Rose shook underneath the blanket, sending a tremor across the mattress. And despite the sweat that caused her night shirt to cling to her skin, she was awakened by the shivering sensation throughout her body.

She eased into a sitting position carefully, not wanting to wake the sleeping man beside her. He'd had a long day, and he needed his sleep. So had she, for that matter, but after that dream…well, it would take some time to feel prepared to close her eyes again.

It had been an odd dream. It wasn't frightening or anything of concern. It just felt important. And yet, there didn't seem to be anything important to it! Rose quivered again and then wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to suppress the involuntary movement. There'd been a man…a rather strange man. She tried hard to recall what he had looked like, and though she remembered him well enough, some features were still blurred.

She sighed and went to swing her legs off of the bed, but the man beside her moved, and she froze. She turned her head around, tousled blonde hair whipping her face as a result of the jerky motion. His eyes were open.

Dammit.

"It's alrigh', Doctor. Go back to sleep."

The man didn't listen, and instead sat up on the mattress and scooted forward to be next to Rose.

"Did you have a nightmare?" He asked, placing a hand on her neck and gentle caressing her slick skin.

"Nah. Jus' a funny dream, I guess. Stuck with me."

"Want to talk about it?" The Doctor (or rather, the Doctor who was the product of metacrisis) was watching her intently, but she didn't meet his gaze.

"I s'pose. There was a man. I felt like I knew him…But I don't. Yet…there was something so familiar about him." Rose huffed in frustration. "It was like I was actually there. I felt my heart pound when I saw him…"

"Was he handsome?" The Doctor asked, and Rose snorted.

"Doctor…"

"Was he handsome?" He prompted a second time, and Rose could tell he was fighting back a smile.

"Yeah, you could say so. Unconventionally, I suppose. A bit boyish. The exact details are a bit fuzzy, to be hones'…But the one thing I remember was that he was wearing this ridiculous hat! It was like one that those cowboys wear, ya know? Can you even imagine? Crazy." She laughed breathily.

"Weeelll…I did wear a tie on my head that one time…"

And Rose did remember this specific event. She stiffened. It was not a day that she remembered too fondly.

"Right." She responded coolly. "Funny."

The Doctor appraised her expression and his mouth formed into a small 'o'.

"Anyways!" Rose pronounced. She just wanted to stop thinking about all the 'dancing' and 'banana daiquiris' that had passed between the Doctor and Madam de Pompadour. "You can just go back to bed, Doctor. I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure, Rose?"

"It was just a dream."

"Alright. Goodnight, Rose."

"Good morning, actually." Rose pointed at the digital clock on their bedside table. The green numbers read 4:47 AM of April 22, 2011. She smiled at the Doctor, who was squinting at the numbers. "Ya still have a few hours of sleep left. Enjoy havin' the bed all to yourself." She pressed her lips to the bridge of his nose and then slid to the floor.

"Where are you going?" He asked, still in a daze. He was trying to blink away the green light that clouded his vision, even though he had looked away a few seconds ago.

Rose rolled her eyes with a smirk. "You have to ask?"

"Ah, right. Have fun out there."

Rose nodded and shuffled out of the room, delicately closing the door behind her.

She hesitated in front of the sliding door, but after a couple deep breaths, she gripped the handle and shifted the glass door.

The air outside was brisk but refreshing. Rose took a seat in her papasan chair, curling her legs up under her. The balcony was her favorite place to come to think or unwind. Occasionally the Doctor shared this little spot with her, but usually it was just her and the night sky. Before Donna, before Davros, before the metacrisis…before things got even more complicated, this was where Rose had come each night just hoping to see the TARDIS flying in the sky. It had been a mad dream, but it had kept her going.

Rose smiled at the fading stars. She was lucky. It had taken her a while to think so, but the years spent with her Doctor convinced her this was the only practical way for her to be with him…even if she did often wonder how he was getting on.

Often. Rose internally chuckled. More like every second of every day.

The streets below were quiet, save for the rare car driving by. There was a rustling across the street—probably the neighbor's calico cat playing around in the bushes.

Rose leaned forward suddenly, having seen a figure move out from the shadows of her apartment building. No one ever left this early…

"Curious…" Rose murmured, shifting her legs from under herself and standing at the balcony's railing. "No way…"

It was him. The man from her dream—daft hat and all! She shook her head and blinked a few times, but when she refocused her vision, he was still there. He was wearing a smart coat and nice pants, but she could make out no more than that, since he was facing away from her.

"Hey! Hey, sir!"

She was calling out loud enough that he should have heard, but he didn't acknowledge her. Her heart sunk and she sighed. She must be going mad. Just as she was turning around to go back inside, he glanced back at her. Then, with a tip of his silly Stetson and a sad expression, he looked away once more. Rose watched his retreating figure, watched him flip a small key in his hand. It didn't click until she saw him duck into an alleyway and heard the distinctive 'vworp vworp' sound that could only belong to the TARDIS.

She desperately wanted to run out to him, but she knew it would only break her heart once more. Something about the look on his face…like the way he was saying goodbye meant so much more…

Rose walked passed her chair and to the sliding glass door. She was going to stay outside a bit longer, but decided against it. Instead, she returned to the bedroom and lay back down next to the Doctor. Her Doctor.

She curled an arm around his torso and sighed into his shoulder. In the end, he was hers, and she was his. He never had to say goodbye, not like the Doctor she'd just seen on the streets. And though it hurt to know he had dashed off again, it was lessened by the love she felt for the man sleeping next to her.