He didn't need a big Time Lord brain to know what was coming.
He thought he'd prepared himself-physically, mentally-for what he knew was inevitable; in retrospect, however, he realized how woefully unprepared he was, especially when it was headed for him, full throttle.
Jackie Tyler and the Oncoming Slap.
He glanced over at Rose, who was obviously better prepared than he was-the hem of her long dress already thrown over her arm, hand outstretched waiting for his, big bright smile-and he had to grin. Slipping his hand in hers he raised one eyebrow, giving Rose her cue.
"Run?" she asked with a giggle.
"Yep."
And they tore off, the sound of laughter and a ranting Jackie Tyler following them on the breeze.
Six weeks since Norway and that brilliant snog Rose had laid on him, and things had gone decidedly pear-shaped. They talked (but not about anything important, like Time Lords and growing a TARDIS or space travel or what they felt) and went to work and did normal, everyday things that people living on the slow path did. They pretended things were fine, that they were fine, and that their life was not just one big tinderbox ready to go up in flames at the slightest provocation.
One Saturday morning Rose awoke to find the Doctor in his polka-dotted pajama pants, various appliances and electrical gadgets in various states of disrepair around him, and the match was lit, the explosion fierce.
Six weeks of hurt and anger and frustration came out; cruel, harsh words intended to cause as much damage as possible. The bloodletting was painful and not entirely metaphorical (Rose had surprisingly good aim, and really he should have seen it coming) and it wasn't until he'd shoved his feet into his trainers and made for the door that things truly came to a head: she'd placed a hand on his arm and when he turned to look at her, he saw fear beneath the anger and rage and something inside of him snapped.
Without a second thought he'd shoved her up against the nearest wall and fucked her, long and hard and loud. It was angry and possessive and painful-scratches intended to bleed, bites intended to hurt-and when they were both sweaty and sated and not so angry, the Doctor laid her gently on the bed and tenderly kissed the bruises he had made with his fingers and his teeth while they both cried for what they had lost.
They didn't leave their flat until Monday morning, tired and sore but better, together, fingers entwined as they walked to the Tube station.
He'd gone out looking for a ring that afternoon.
After a month of searching and finding nothing that matched what he wanted, the Doctor was ready to give up. It was completely by accident that he found what he had been looking for in, of all places, the Torchwood archives.
The stone was rough, unpolished and uncut, but the moment he touched it he felt the memories flooding back: climbing Mount Cadon as a child, his pockets heavy with the weight of these stones that were the same color as the sky. Without hesitation, he stuck it in his pocket, a plan forming in his mind.
After some careful inquiries and a small (well, medium) bribe, he'd found a Torchwood employee who agreed to cut and polish the stone for him. It took another two weeks for him to get it back, but the wait was worth it; it gleamed bright orange and red like the fiery sunrise over the forests of Gallifrey, and for the briefest of moments he felt a pang of homesickness, of longing to be able to take Rose there.
A jeweler Pete had suggested (of course he'd told Pete and Jackie he was going to ask Rose to marry him, he knew Jackie would slap him back to the parallel universe if he didn't) helped him choose a setting and was infinitely patient with the Doctor and his ramblings and his insistence on the complicated, circular engraving he wanted on the band. It was tedious and complicated and time-consuming, but when it was finished it was stunning and unique. As he looked at the ring, he felt that forever-this slow, human, finite forever, with Rose-would never be long enough for him.
The Doctor stood on the patio of Pete Tyler's house, hands in his pockets, watching the sunset. He was so intent on watching the stars come out that he didn't hear the door behind him open, and was genuinely surprised to feel Rose's arm around his waist, her head on his shoulder.
"You alright?" she asked, looking up at him with a small smile.
"Oh you know me, just out her pondering," he replied.
"Pondering what?"
"The usual…will your mother's cooking give me food poisoning, is it too late for me to fake an illness and go home-which I just might, depending on whether or not we're having the banoffee pie I was promised last time."
"Oi!" Rose poked him in the side. "Her cooking isn't that bad. And yes, there's pie."
"Brilliant, love pie. Pie with bananas, don't know who the genius who came up with that was, but it's brilliant, utterly fantastic. Deserves an award, that does."
The Doctor could feel her shoulders shaking with laughter. "Well, come in and eat then, no pie if you don't eat your dinner."
She started to head for the door but he stopped her, tugging her back to his side. "I was pondering something else, too, not just the pie although really, I could think about bananas and pie for a good long while."
"I thought we were done talking about pie."
"Oh, yes, right." He tugged on his ear. "I was pondering…no, that's not the right word, wondering? No. Contemplating? Better…" he pursed his lips, searching for the right word.
"Yeah?"
"How long are you going to stay with me?" the Doctor asked, his voice suddenly quiet.
With a smile and an eyeroll, Rose answered. "You daft alien, I told you. Forever, yeah?"
With a trembling hand, he held the box out to her.
"What's this?"
"This is me, offering you my forever…if you want."
Rose snapped open the little velvet box, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "You prat."
The Doctor tugged on his ear again. "That doesn't really answer my question, although maybe it does and I just don't-"
Putting her finger on his lips, she shushed him. "Of course I want, was there ever a question?" He opened his mouth to speak, and she shushed him again, this time with her mouth. Instinctively, his arms went around her as they kissed, and he didn't think he'd ever get over the thrill he felt every time they touched.
With a sigh, Rose pulled back and handed him the box, holding her left hand out for him to slip the ring onto. It fit perfectly, and she held out her hand to admire it.
"'S gorgeous."
"It reminded me of…Gallifrey."
Rose took his hand and kissed him again. "I love you."
"Quite right, too."
"Git." Rose smiled. "Come on, let's go tell my mum." The Doctor looked aggrieved, and she laughed. "Better get used to it, she's going to be your mother in law."
"Oh that's just rubbi-" he stops short, seeing the look on Rose's face. "Wonderful! Fantastic! Brilliant, even! Molto bene!"
Jackie was intent on having a lavish, over the top wedding for her little girl, and no amount of persuading from anyone could convince her otherwise. It was driving them all crazy, but nobody wanted to incur Jackie's wrath so they let her continue on, complaining only when she is well out of earshot.
In the end it was Donna's idea (and yes, the Doctor had sought out this universe's Donna Noble, hiring her as his assistant, and she was just as brilliant as the other Donna) to elope under the guise of a family holiday. "Tell her you want to take a nice family holiday somewhere, and just up and do it while you're there," she'd said one day over chips in the Torchwood cafeteria. "Don't even tell her you're doing it, just one morning after toast and tea, oh surprise! There's a minister! Why not have him marry us while he's here?"
The Doctor had jumped up from the table and kissed her. "Donna Noble, you're brilliant!"
"Oi! Enough of that, Spaceman!" she'd replied, wiping her face.
They ran the plan by Pete, who was more than happy to help, but only under the condition that Jackie not ever find out he knew about the elopement. He had his secretary book a posh hotel in the Tuscan countryside and surprised Jackie with it on their anniversary. It proved enough of a distraction that Rose and the Doctor (well, mostly Donna) managed to plan everything without Jackie having the slightest idea of what was going on behind her back.
The morning of their last full day in Italy, the hotel manager suggested to Jackie that the family eat their breakfast outside in the garden-it was a lovely morning, a wonderful way to end their holiday. Jackie agreed, and turned from setting Tony up with his juice and an orange to see the Doctor standing there in his brown pinstriped suit pants and a button down.
"Bit overdressed for breakfast," she said, giving him a quizzical look.
With a smile, he shrugged. "Maybe."
Pete joined them a moment later, tucking into his tea with gusto. After several minutes, Jackie turned to the Doctor. "Where's Rose?"
"Said something about a long bath."
Jackie narrowed her eyes at him, but said nothing.
After ten more minutes of awkward silence, the Doctor excused himself. Jackie turned to Pete. "Something is going on."
"What?" Pete looked baffled. "He's always like this."
"I mean something is up. Those two have something up their sleeves," she said, cutting her eyes at the garden doors, watching. "They'd better not be swannin' off without saying a proper goodbye." Jackie's eagle eyes noticed a commotion at the garden doors, and the Doctor reappeared, talking to a rather official looking man.
Pete's phone buzzed, and he stood, looking at the screen. "Torchwood. I'll take this inside."
If Jackie's suspicions hadn't already been raised, Pete's abrupt departure would have done it. She eyed her son, who was completely oblivious to his surroundings, being engrossed in his handheld video game. "Tony love, did Rose say anything to you?"
"'Bout what?"
"Anything?"
"Nope." The youngster looked up briefly, only to spot his sister and father. "Mum? Look!"
Jackie turned to where Tony was looking and gasped, partially out of shock, but mostly out of awe at how lovely her daughter looked.
Rose was radiant in a simple cream-colored lace dress, her hair flowing about her shoulders in waves. She held a small bouquet of orange and red roses, tied with a red-orange ribbon that complimented the red-orange sash of her dress. Jackie could only gape, speechless, as Pete walked her over to the Doctor.
"Did you know about this?" she turned on Pete when he sat back down.
Instead of answering, he took her hand. "Jacks, I love you, now sit down and let Rose get married in peace."
"Mum," Rose interjected. "We didn't want a fancy London wedding. This is what we wanted, and I know it's not what you wanted for me but…I didn't want throngs of people and business associates and photographers. I wanted it to be just us, our family, on the most important day of my life." She smiled at her mother, who was struggling not to cry. "I love you, Mum, and I know you're disappointed but this is just what I wanted. Please, Mum, please be happy for me."
Jackie sniffled, smiling through her tears. "Go on, then. But we'll be having words once this ceremony is over!"
They were running through a rolling field of wheat, holding hands, laughing, Jackie's not-so-idle threat ringing in their ears. Out of breath, the Doctor fell into the golden grass, pulling Rose down on top of him.
"We can't avoid her forever, you know," Rose huffed, settling beside him, head on his shoulder.
"Oh, I can try," he panted in response.
Rose examined her engagement ring closely. "You gonna tell me what it says now? You said you'd tell me once we were married…" she gave him an expectant look.
"It says, 'I traveled through time and space and all I got was a lousy Time Lord Metacrisis.'"
"Does not!" she replied with a laugh. "I know that's my name, but what's the rest?"
The Doctor propped himself up on his elbows to look at her. "How did you know that?" he asked, his face a mixture of wonder and joy.
She blushed under his scrutiny. "I...one time I asked the TARDIS what my name would look like in…your language. She showed me. I tried to write it but…I was rubbish at it."
"No, Rose," the Doctor managed to choke out, his eyes shining, "you're brilliant."
"So what's it say, then?"
The Doctor slid the ring off of her finger and looked at it. "Well this is your name, but you knew that," he said, turning the ring. "This one…this is my name, my Gallifreyan name."
"Ah, the big secret revealed." Rose grinned, her tongue peeking out from between her teeth. "You gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?"
With a chuckle, he leaned over and whispered it in her ear. After several attempts, she managed to say it without stumbling. "That's quite a mouthful."
"Weeelll," he replied, "it is a bit long. Pretentious lot, the Time Lords."
"No offense, but I think I'll stick to calling you Doctor." Rose took the ring from him and put it back on. "Bit much to be screaming out in bed."
The Doctor laughed and lay back down, grasping Rose's hand and entwining their fingers. "In that particular circumstance, I think the names of any of the major deities in this universe will do just fine."
"Prat." She rolled over so that her head lay on his chest, listening to his singular heartbeat. "But I do love you."
He squeezed her hand. "Quite right, too."