The clock had just struck three in the morning when Rose finally shut off her computer and gathered her things to head home. The light in her Torchwood office was the last one to be turned off for the night, and it would be the first one turned on in the morning. The maintenance crews were always complaining about how frequently they had to replace the light bulbs in her office because she never let them rest. She pulled on her jacket, grabbed her purse and hit the light switch.

This had become her habit over the past year. She would work into the early hours of the morning, head home to sleep for a few hours, take a shower, put on fresh clothes, grab some coffee and get back to work before her mother could corner her and force her to take better care of herself. Pete would send her looks throughout the day, but otherwise he said nothing of her routine, though she was sure he got more than an earful from Jackie each night when he came home without Rose.

She had changed so much since her tragic arrival in the parallel universe. Her hair was dark, her eyes dull, she'd lost weight and it seemed like the muscles in her face had forgotten how to smile. She'd even switched from tea to coffee, finding that the latter could keep her going longer. She knew this wasn't how the Doctor wanted her to live, but every time that thought crossed her mind, an angry voice in the back of her head would snap at her, reminding her that he wasn't there and couldn't see her, that he'd probably moved on and forgotten all about her. She'd respond by going to the store, grabbing a box of hair dye, and trying to not forget to eat.

The halls were quiet. Pete had gotten Rose a job at Torchwood when she was ready, and as she had the most experience with aliens she was made deputy director of the organization. That just meant she had a big office and got to be the one to talk with the aliens that made contact with the planet.

Rose's footsteps echoed as she walked through the dark halls, and she was tempted to just turn around and crash on the couch in her office; sometimes she slept there more than she did at home. She didn't feel like sleeping right now anyway, so she gave in to the temptation and made her way back. She turned the lights back on and sat at her desk, a file open before her and a pen in her hand. Soon she was so engrossed in the report she was reading that she didn't hear the footsteps making their way toward her office. She didn't notice the creak of wood as a figure leaned against the doorpost. And if she had, she would have just assumed it was Mickey, coming to see if she'd left at all and force her to eat something.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, her eyes closing and her hand pressing to her rapidly-beating heart.

"Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth." She squeezed her eyes shut tighter and bit her lip even as it trembled. It wasn't him. It couldn't be; he'd said so himself. It was impossible. This was just another figment of her imagination.

There were more footsteps, and the familiar swishing sound his coat made as he walked. She kept her eyes shut and mentally repeated over and over again it's not him. It's not him. Her desk creaked as he sat on the edge of it.

"Rose, open your eyes." She shook her head and bit down harder on her lip, trying to stop it from trembling so much. Maybe she was more tired than she thought. Maybe she was asleep and dreaming, or she was awake and hallucinating. Either way, she just knew he wasn't real. Until his hands touched her face.

Tears began to push their way through her eyelashes as she felt his gentle touch. His hands cupped either side of her face as his thumbs rubbed over her eyebrows, then wiped the tears from her cheeks. She sobbed even as he stroked her hair and she barely noticed as her hand snapped the plastic pen it held in two.

She felt him lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. Then she felt his hot breath on her neck before his whisper tickled her ear. "I suppose, though now's not my last chance to say it, Rose Tyler, I love you." An anguished sob escaped her throat as he finished the sentence he had started so long ago. She'd half expected him to disappear again, but he was still there, holding her, those precious three words lingering on the air and in her heart.

She finally opened her eyes, knowing that if he wasn't there when she did so she would surely curl up on the floor and die. But when she opened her large brown eyes she almost jumped in surprise, as if she still didn't believe he'd be there. But he was. Only a few inches from her face was the Doctor's, in all his familiar glory. He looked a bit older than when she'd last seen him, on that cursed beach in Norway. His eyes told her he'd aged quite a bit, whether from actual time or not, she didn't know.

The Doctor smiled when she finally looked up at him. Mascara was smeared down her cheeks, her eyes were puffy and red and she looked like she hadn't slept in years, but he swore that had never, in all of his nine hundred or so years, seen anything as beautiful as the smile she gave him. Without warning Rose threw her arms around his neck, her sobs of relief muffled by his coat. The Doctor buried his face in her hair, which he noticed with delight smelled the same as it always had. He tightened his grip on her, holding on for dear life.

"It's me, I swear. I'm here. I'm real." Either to reassure her or simply because he couldn't wait any longer, the Doctor touched his lips to hers, and in one short kiss did his best to tell her all he'd been through to get to her. Rose pulled back reluctantly. "How long have we got?" He glanced at his watch.

"Five minutes until the gap closes and I've got to go back through." Fear flooded her face before determination took over. "I'm going with you." He smiled and pulled her close again. "I wouldn't have it any other way. You need to hurry though. I'm sorry, you won't be able to say goodbye in person." She regretfully withdrew from his arms.

" 'S okay. A note will do." She found a new pen and a piece of paper and scratched out a quick note to Mickey. She knew he'd understand. Rose turned from the desk to see the Doctor standing by her with his hand held out in an open invitation. A huge smile lit up Rose's face as she placed her hand in his, it's rightful place. Without another thought, she walked right out of the office, turning off the light for the last time.

---

The next morning Mickey walked into Rose's office and almost died from shock. The light was off and she wasn't there. He flipped the switch and walked over to her desk, where a piece of paper lay next to a puddle of ink. On the note, below his name, were three short words that told a detailed story, explaining everything. He dropped into her chair and looked at it again, shaking his head and laughing. Oh, how was he going to explain this one to Jackie…

Mickey-

HE CAME BACK

Oh, this is just something that popped into my head while I was reading a different Doctor Who fic, and I just HAD to write it. This is only my second Doctor who fic, and my first postdoomsday/reunion one, but I hope you liked it!