Prologue

At first, affectionate gestures were absent. The kiss on that beach in Norway had been the furthest extent of any signs of something romantic between them; nowadays, it was mostly lovesick glances and shy smiles. It didn't help that Rose had to get used to this sudden surprise. She felt uneasy and unsure around him sometimes, uncomfortable when his hand brushed against hers or when his voice became soft and gentle.

However strange she felt around him, she would remember that his hair was ruffled the same way it was when they would be running during one of their adventures, and how his eyes were still full of the same intense passion they always were. He was still strong, good-natured in some moments and steely-face during others. In moments of solitude as she thought about the Doctor she lost and the Doctor she gained, she felt empty and sad but jubilant and energized all at the same time. She would give an almost apologetic smile into the air. Who knew a time-traveling alien could both fulfill and ruin her life?

No matter how she felt with the Doctor living in her house now, there was always a tang of childlike happiness inside. She had suffered so many nights with a broken heart, feeling as if she wouldn't have the strength to make it through the next day. All those times she had waited for a blue box to show up had finally come true, but it still took some getting used to. Seeing him already dressed and wide awake in early mornings was something she hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. Hearing his laugh ringing in her ears was something she had almost forgotten, as well as the way his face broke into smiles. She often forgot her Doctor was there with her now, that she wasn't alone anymore. Nights when she wished for him became better in the mornings when she came out to see him tinkering with something or reading things on the Internet.

It made her feel better seeing him, hearing him, feeling him. She would reach over to run her fingers through her hair and make sure he was really there. He would just send her a reassuring glance that he wouldn't disappear like last time. Rose sometimes would hug his shoulders tightly, burying her head into his shoulder and whispering into the fabric of his shirt, sending her thanks to whatever deity or force had brought him back to her. Occasionally the Doctor would manage to wiggle out his arm and wrap it awkwardly around her. She didn't let go until he murmured something in a soft voice that she never quite understood; something that sounded like her name.

Weeks passed without any advances made. There was always a sort of tension between them when they were alone, bodies close and voices low, but nothing much was ever done about it. February was settling in when the Doctor approached her.

"What's your favorite type of flower?" he asked as she was watching the news.

She looked up at him, her eyebrow cocked. "Why are you asking?"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out without me asking. Now, what type of flower do you like?"

"Anything but roses." Rose scrunched up her nose. "That's all I ever got. People thought it was cute 'cause we shared the same name."

"You just hate them because of the name?"

She gave a small nod. "Basically."

"'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,'" the Doctor said. He grinned. "You won't ever give them another chance?"

"They're pretty flowers, I just hate getting them."

He tilted his head, his lively brown eyes fixed on hers. "All right, then." He left the room, Rose watching him with a confused look.

Valentine's Day was coming up. It had something to do with that, she concluded, but still wondered what he was going to do. Knowing the Doctor, it was going to be something definitely unexpected.