Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who

I love the relationship between the Ninth Doctor and Rose and hope this captures it a little. Just a few one shots basically.

Ah, Rose Tyler. Doctor Nine leaned back into the blue paneling of the Tardis. He crossed his arms casually and grinned to himself his blue eyes holding a hint of sparkled amusement. She was something…he had traveled all over the universe, all over time and he was becoming more convinced each adventure that he would never again meet someone quite like her. There was a refreshing dash of ordinary that kept a sensible head on her shoulders (for the most part) but underneath the youthful, naïve exterior was a clever mind with an insatiable appetite for the extraordinary. He sometimes wondered what she would be like as a Time lord, and then in another second she would spout some odd but revealing observation that could only come from the scope of a much too-endearing human. Sometimes the longer one spent living and traveling through time the farther one's perspective could wander away from the ordinary, and in turn, miss out. The doctor laughed a little to himself as he saw Rose jogging to him from her apartment complex with her traveling pack bouncing up and down with her. Upon reaching the Tardis he paused for a moment to look down into her golden brown eyes shining with excitement. As their eyes met she broke out into a grin and a familiar warmth filled him as he once again was reminded he'd made a fantastic decision in picking her.

Ridiculous humans! Was the Doctor and Rose's relationship really so strange that people were baffled when they couldn't be called a couple but were certainly more than just friends? The Doctor's progress on rewiring parts of the Tardis was slowing down the more he thought of this. Of course they were not lovers; she was a human, and a nineteen year old one to boot. He was a nine hundred year old Time lord that did not trifle with petty love affairs. He couldn't risk wasting a perfectly good companionship on the fickle and volatile ebb and flow of emotions that no species in any time or place had ever learned to temper. He reasoned that there could be no way of humans classifying this type of relationship because he was the last Time lord in existence and thus the only who had a relationship of any kind with a human. The argument was ridiculous he thought chuckling to himself, made sense in a sort of way depending on how one looked at it. Though, when asked by an alien once what type of relationship he had with Rose he opened to speak but stopped when he realized he himself did not know what it should be called. Shorthand she was his "plus one, time-adventurer companion and very best sort of friend" but sometimes those words delayed on his tongue, it wasn't an apt description for all that Rose Tyler really was to him. To himself he knew exactly what relationship they had: Rose was his confidant, sometimes his perspective when he was losing himself in the pain of his past. He was certain her bright, sincere smiles alone could fuel the Tardis. She was the kind of human he would always be intrigued by; without the knowledge and life span of a time lord she was still willing to go to great lengths of self-sacrifice despite her almost non-existent time line. She wasn't blissfully ignorant of the danger that could meet her at every corner, she knew quite well the risks…had experienced them a time too many for the doctor's comfort, though he was loathe to admit it. Thinking too much about it inevitably led to the thought involving him leaving Rose behind in her own time, where she could live a safe and ordinary life. He sighed to himself; it would be such a waste for her. He jerked his hand back from the wirework abruptly after a spark from the Tardis stung him …

"alright then, I would miss her, you happy now?"

he said giving the ship a quick bang of his fist, he was sure it was his imagination but the electrical hum of the Tardis sounded pleased.

"Are you reading minds now?"

From another part of the Tardis the Doctor heard Rose yelling

"Oi doctor! What are you going on about again? If you keep talking to yourself like this I ought to take you to a mental institution, before you drive me completely mental!"

He grinned and continued with his work and imaginary conversation with his ship

"Yeah, yeah…laugh it up will you, won't be anything more than a piece of junk without a doctor to steer you about."

He sat on a bench in the present time of a very ordinary and blustery day in the London of Rose's time. The gray wall of cloud above him was as somber as his thoughts. He sat hunched over and examined his hands absent-mindedly as he waited for Rose, these hands that would always seek to hold hers long after she was gone. She had asked to return for her mother's birthday and how could he deny her? She had enthusiastically and faithfully followed him everywhere through space and time; sure, she had gone willingly but she had also given him company he would spend years pining for when she was no longer with him. He thought more about the time spent with her, he hoped more than anything else that he could offer as much to her as she had given to him, very few individuals would throw themselves as whole-heartedly into saving the world when it could cost them their own future. He wished to show her every dazzling nebula history had known and forests of planets so exotic she never would have dreamed they could exist…she liked dancing…how about amongst the stars? The way Rose talked one would think she had won the lottery but in reality, in the greater scheme of things it was him who had won.

Would Mickey really, really, be the man for Rose? It was preposterous! A boy who cared more about the next football match than the next big violation of an intergalactic space treaty. He felt the paternal disdain of a disapproving father and yet a hint of jealousy started sneaking in. He watched the screen from the inside of the Tardis as she walked away with Mickey away from the plaza, hand in hand. Of course, she could have a boyfriend, it was her life and she could do as she pleased…yet he had to admit, it pleased him most when her hand was linked to his. He was accustomed to Rose's brief interludes with her boys, as long as it kept her happy and they stayed out of trouble who was the Doctor to complain? Oh, and as long as they didn't take Rose away from him…unless she chose to walk away. He continued looking at the screen long after they had disappeared from its field of vision, drumming his hands on the panel in busy thought. He needed a planet…somewhere with a holiday type of feel to it. The Doctor would show Rose he wasn't all work and worry. Sighing to himself he turned away from the screen. She would be back, and if absolutely necessary Mickey could come, but only with the understanding that the Doctor would have the lion's share of hand holding.