Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, it belongs to the BBC.
Author's Note: This is the seventh fic in my one-word prompt series. Also, this one was more like a two-word prompt fic. The first word was "Reference," and the second was "Hurricane."
"Hurricane, a storm of the most intense severity, or, anything suggesting a violent storm."
"Where have you been?"
"Reference section."
"Thought you'd give the dictionary a whirl, yeah?"
"I dunno, it just hit me all of a sudden."
"What did?"
"There are so many words I don't know, there's so much I don't know, and it's always gonna be that way, isn't it?"
He scooted out from beneath the TARDIS console to find Rose parked on the jump seat looking miserable.
"What's that supposed to mean? You're brilliant, Rose, absolutely sodding brilliant!"
"Not compared to you, though, and not compared to a lot of people we meet."
"Not everything is books and cleverness, Rose, even Hermione knew that."
"Then why does it matter so much? Why do people look down on me, why do they think I'm not good enough to fly through time and space with you?"
She looked so small, curling in on herself, trying to disappear into the jump seat. He'd had no idea, well, he'd had some idea after Adam, but this was a whole new level of insecurity that she was showing him. He was absolutely baffled as to its point of origin.
"Who's said anything like that? Who's been filling your head with that nonsense? Everyone we meet loves you, Rose!"
"You have, Doctor, you and almost everyone else we meet. Sure, I'm not some French courtesan, but I've helped save the universe a time or two. I know I'm not like Sarah Jane, out there livin' this fantastic life, but I've lost my dad, not once, but three times, and I'm still standin'! So why do you sometimes look at me like I'm still some stupid ape that blundered in, and you just happened to take pity on me and rescue me from my mud-ball of a planet?"
Her stare was accusing and he felt like the lowest form of life under it. He could tell that this had been building for a while and he would have given anything to be able to rewrite time, to introduce her to Sarah Jane properly, to tell Reinette just what she meant to him, and to let Pete Tyler of that other world know that he was missing out on the best thing that could ever happen to him.
The Doctor knew that he couldn't do anything of the sort, so he was paralyzed by his regret and her sadness. The feelings overwhelmed him to the point where he almost let her walk out of the console room without disabusing her of this notion.
"Rose, you're not stupid! You're the best person I know! I don't want you for your intellect, (although I think yours is a fine thing!), I want your humanity, your infinite capacity for compassion and forgiveness. I want your hand in mine as we run to and from danger and when we stroll through a park. You don't need your A-Levels to save the universe. After all, you didn't need them to save me."
He walked to her and twined their fingers together, "You've pledged yourself to me in so many different ways, and you don't even know it. Allow me to return the favor, Rose Tyler."
Tears were flowing freely down her face, but she nodded and gripped his hand tightly.
"I'm yours, Rose Tyler, in this life and all my others, and you need never feel inferior because you are so superior in so many ways. Perfect in your imperfections, and I would have you no other way. So, would you have this stupid alien in his beat-up time ship?"
She flung her arms around his neck and he picked her up and swung her around joyfully. "It's the Doctor in the TARDIS with Rose Tyler forever if I can swing it!"
"No arguments from me!"