The TARDIS felt like smacking her head against the wall that had held the portal that almost took Rose away. That is, if she had a head to smack.

The Runaway Bride had come on board and her story sorted, and red-purple-silver-Martha had hopped on with her thief and pink-yellow-gold-Rose because the latter thought she had deserved a trip in the blue box (the TARDIS preened under that; Rose knew that this box was special). It had been weeks since the TARDIS had doomed Doomsday… at least, the original version.

And her thief still hadn't talked to Rose. Well, he had, but not in the way the TARDIS had told him to.

Honestly, when he regenerated into tweed-bowtie-chin it was going to be because of her, not some stupid radiation booth. Well, maybe she would push him in there… but that was beside the point. Putting aside the various regenerative plots (that she hid from her thief, mind you she didn't want to ruin the surprise of the plans), she nudged the Doctor's mind while he was working on her console.

What, Old Girl? You know these-

No they don't, you're making it worse. Red to blue, yellow to orange, green to black. It's like you're trying to follow that old Earth rhyme. Ask your strays what I mean. And you still haven't walked with pink-yellow-gold-Rose.

Oi! I've talked to her!

You know what I mean, Time Lord. Agitation and some sort of fondness had slipped into her mental voice.

… I know. But what can I do, Old Girl? She's human and I'm… not.

The TARDIS lifted a mental eyebrow. We aren't the same species either, in case you've forgotten. And we were around long before the Time Lords. You lot just harnessed our power.

I remember, Old Gal. Not like you ever let me forget it. But it's different with Rose!

The TARDIS sighed. I know. But leave enough sentences unfinished, and it will bite you back eventually.

An image of Bad Wolf Bay appeared in his mind, images of holograms and the him that wasn't him dressed in his blue suit and memories drowned in regret and sorrow and self-hatred and another hologram and an unfamiliar voice that wasn't all that unfamiliar shouting "Guilt!"

The Doctor sighed, repairs forgotten as he fully concentrated on his ship. I know.

The TARDIS became gentler. Just tell her, thief. You are going to be devastated either way. But this way might hurt less.

Might?

You know as well as I that time is not permanent, not even fixed points, though if you try to break one I will be the cause of your next regeneration. Tell her, thief, or I will do it for you.

You know she can't handle you being in her head like you're in mine.

You forget, thief, that I don't need telepathy to write. I translate those languages you speak, which means that I know how to type in pink-yellow-gold-Rose's language.

You wouldn't.

I'll admit to that. Don't push me Time Lord. As most beings say, you don't know of someone's character until you place them in boiling water. Don't reach my boiling point, and talk with her.

And the TARDIS severed the conversation, giving a few harmless sparks to the Doctor in warning.

"Alright, alright! Geeze, I'm off!" And with that, the Doctor walked to Rose, asking Martha (who was in the Med Bay) what Earth saying had to do with the colors red, yellow, and black.

A/N: I've tried my hand at romance and I realize I suck at it. So I'm just going to leave that hanging and let you guys come up with the conversation or read another fanfic or something, because I don't want to ruin it.

Also, the TARDIS is the best character on the show and no one can tell me otherwise.

Also, the rhyme the TARDIS is referring to is "red touch black, friendly jack, red touch yellow, killer fellow", which has to do with poisonous snakes, or so my brother taught me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Thank goodness, I'm pretty sure I'd ruin it because I have a hard time of letting go companions, much less the Doctor when he regenerates.