Rose had been giving the Doctor the cold shoulder - of that, he was sure. Unfortunately, he had absolutely no idea why. It had been weeks since they'd run into Sarah Jane, and Mickey was gone, so it wasn't more irritation from him coming aboard. He couldn't make heads or tails of it. Right now, she was sitting on the jump seat, nursing a cup of tea and avoiding him actively. She wouldn't answer him with anything more than a 'yeah' or a 'hm', and getting her to look at him was probably completely out, so he hadn't even tried.

Their last few adventures together had been tense, too, like Rose was holding some kind of grudge against him - probably for something he'd done. She had been acting like running around with him was a job, rather than something she enjoyed. Only thing was, he couldn't think of anything he'd done to annoy her in the last few weeks. So far, she'd only been acting like this for a few days, but a few days was enough for him to see that she could keep it up. If she could keep it up for four days straight, she could keep it up for four weeks straight, too.

"Alright, what is it?" the Doctor finally spoke up, exhaling heavily as he looked across the console to her, from the other side of it. "What did I do?" he crossed his arms over his chest.

Rose's eyes flicked up to him from her cup of tea, and then back down into her cup. He knew that look - he'd seen it on her mother, in fact. It was the 'you should already know' look. Either that, or she just didn't deign to answer him. She took another sip of her tea, ignoring him.

"Rose," the Doctor beckoned firmly. "I'm sensing a note of hostility from you right now. Is that just me?" he tilted his head, willing her to deny it.

"God, why do you even keep me around?" Rose grumbled out over the lip of her cup. "If I'm so hostile?"

The Doctor's brows furrowed over his dark eyes. "What?" he asked, pulling a bit of a face. What did she mean, 'keep her around'? She wasn't a pet, not a belonging - she wasn't something to be tossed out when it didn't suit him. Not that he would, even if she was a little edgy lately.

Rose just sighed and shook her head. "Never mind," she lowered her cup into her lap and fixed her eyes on the light of the console.

"No," the Doctor set his jaw a little bit, quite annoyed by now with her display of coldness. She was his friend - his best friend. More than that. And she hadn't held his hand in what felt like forever. "You've obviously got something to say, why don't you come out and say it?" he challenged, his voice somewhere between concerned and goading.

Rose looked at him again, this time glaring. And then she looked back at her tea. "Iloveyou," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry?" the Doctor blanched, sure he'd heard wrong.

"I, love, you," Rose looked up again, annunciating her words slowly, her brows down hard over her warm brown eyes and her lips set into a thin line of vexation. At the surprised look that crossed his face, she snorted a breath, leant forward and put her tea on the small table beside the jump seat. "Don't look like that. You already knew."

She was right. He had. She had looked into the time vortex, not knowing what would happen to her, to save his life from the Dalek army. Yes, he'd known she loved him. But he hadn't expected her ever to say it - because now they were both in a rather awkward situation. She probably knew he wouldn't - couldn't - say it back, but she probably knew, too. She had to know, right? But the Doctor didn't quite understand. How could she be angry with him because she loved him?

The Doctor tilted his head back and nodded slowly. "Alright. But I'm confused," he admitted with a perplexed expression on his face. "Is that … my fault?" he tried, hoping to decipher the problem swiftly, so that they could back out of this conversation quickly, before they got any closer to uncharted territory.

Rose drew a long breath, and if at all possible, her expression became more irate. "I love, you," she strained, as if that final word was the operative one - as if there was a hidden meaning to that single word. And maybe part of her just wanted to say it to him as many times as she could, but that wasn't all. "God, don't you get it?" she got up, a hand coming up and pulling her hair back roughly. "I love you. I've loved you since the leather jacket and the big ears, since you took my hand while planet earth got swallowed by the sun."

The Doctor's ears - his new ones - began to turn red at the shocking display of honesty, but he was still confused. He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, looking for the problem here. There was something he was missing here - he was sure of it. "And … that's a problem?" he asked, slowly, and his eyes began to widen.

Was she saying she'd had enough? Of dancing around him? Of loving him, and pretending she didn't? Was she saying she wanted to leave?

"No!" Rose answered quickly, her own eyes wide - perhaps she'd read his mind - and then screwed up her face and grunted, as if trying to find the words. "Yes," she recanted, then groaned under her breath. "Blimey, don't you see?" she gestured at him with the hand that wasn't threaded in her hair. "Before … before you changed, I was your plus one. We were 'inseparable'. You and me. Big ears and all, I loved you. Every last daft, northern bloody bit of you, I loved." Her voice tapered off slightly at the end, and he caught the telltale sound of a lump in her throat.

The Doctor swallowed and drew a breath, pulling his mouth to one side. "And now? Are we any different? You're still my plus-one. We're still inseparable. Rose Tyler, my Fortuna," he gave a weak smile, and he could help the nervous laugh that came out, as his face began to crumple a little. "Are you saying you don't like me as much? Skinny, and brown eyes and the pinstriped suit?" he asked, not meaning to sound insecure, but doing so nonetheless.

Rose stared at him for a beat. "No. That's not what I'm trying to say," she answered, untangling her hand from her hair and then smoothing it back with a sigh. "What I mean, is that …" she bit her lower lip, "Before, people used to have a jab at me hanging around a bloke who looked a bit older, who spoke with an accent and said 'fantastic' a lot. And now …" her voice cracked, and she drew her shoulders up, "People look at you like that - the way people used to look at me back then."

The Doctor blinked at her, uncomprehending.

"It's that 'what's he doing with her' look. And I'm sat here thinking, what are you doing with me? I mean, look at you!" she threw a hand in his direction, and the Doctor could see that she was on the verge of tears, "You're gorgeous now. I thought you were good looking before, I always did, but now you get noticed and I'm … I'm just … me." She squeaked the last word, and then sniffed, willing herself not to cry.

The Doctor frowned at her with wide eyes, his lips parted. "Rose," he breathed chidingly, not really sure what to say to comfort her.

Rose sniffled again, and reached up to wipe an escaping tear before it could leave a tear track on her cheek. "And now there's this whole other element, whenever we go somewhere. I'm standing around worrying, whenever we land, that there's going to be a clever, beautiful woman getting saved by the dashing, mysterious Doctor - and I'm either the jealous biddy or the kid who holds the coats while she gets to have a romance with the man I love," she broke off and gave a tiny, traitorous half-sob, dropping her hand from her cheek to her mouth and biting on a knuckle between reddening lips.

The Doctor's eyes remained fixed on Rose's form, his arms uncrossing from over his chest and his hands tucking awkwardly into his trouser pockets. He shifted on his feet, guilt washing over him.

"So I'm sorry," Rose choked out, removing her knuckle from between her teeth and wiping under her nose, "I'm sorry I've been a bit unenthusiastic lately - but if you need to know why, there you have it," she said simply, sniffing again and turning away from him. She swung low, picked up her cup of tea and glanced over her shoulder again.

"Rose, wait," the Doctor breathed out, taking a few steps toward her. "Just … just wait."

Rose gave him a harsh look for a moment, then her features softened. She wiped under her eyes again.

He smiled fondly, though his brows tilted apologetically, "Rose, you're beautiful," he told her earnestly, stopping in front of her and placing his hands gently on her upper arms. His thumbs brushed soothingly on the soft fabric of her overgrown, homey, knit jumper.

"For a human," Rose answered shortly, brow furrowed again.

The Doctor paused for a moment, trying to place what she was talking about. And then his mouth dropped open in recollection. "I didn't mean it that way," he said firmly, his grip on her arms tightening slightly, as if trying to set that down as fact. "I didn't mean that I find you less attractive because of your humanity. Rose, I love humans. You're my favorite people in the whole wide universe, you know that, don't you?"

Rose's eyes searched his, her head tilted up to meet his gaze thanks to the height difference. "And me?" she asked clearly, swallowing away the lump in her throat, but her eyes still wet. "What about me? Do you …" she paused, blinked, as if she couldn't believe what she'd been about to ask.

"I do," the Doctor said quickly, setting his features adamantly.

Rose's eyes widened at him. She looked like she was waiting for him to take it back, but he didn't.

"I do - so much," he lifted one hand from her upper arm and brushed her hair back gently. "Rose, you are … everything to me," he told her, but he wasn't smiling. Instead, he looked sad, like he was admiring a sandcastle that he knew would soon be washed away by the tide - like she was an ice sculpture that would melt away at any moment. "And you are beautiful. Stunning," he managed to quirk up one corner of his mouth.

Rose drew a shaky breath, wanting to smile, but knowing that things couldn't change between them. "So what did you mean? When you said that?" she asked quietly.

The Doctor exhaled slowly. "I wasn't … really talking to you. I was reminding myself. You're human, Rose. Your lifespan, compared to mine, is like that of a mayfly. Fleeting. Over before it's really even begun. By the time you're old enough to be wise, your bodies are too frail to be active," he swallowed, speaking aloud the fact he found most tragic. He paused with his hand at the side of Rose's face, her eyes boring up into his. "And later on, the human race will find ways to prolong life, to preserve the consciousness - medicine will advance, etcetera. But they lose something. And I can't really say what it is."

Tears escaped Rose's eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she listened to him.

The Doctor lowered his thumb to wipe at the tear track on her cheek, his voice broken and defeated. "You're wonderful, Rose. You've saved me so many times. You make me better," he smiled weakly at her. "My Rose Tyler - my plus one, my Fortuna, my precious pink and yellow girl. My new reason to go on."

Rose slowly closed her eyes, biting her lower lip and trying desperately not to cry.

The Doctor swallowed. "I'm sorry," he murmured despondently. "I'm sorry I've made you feel less than beautiful. It isn't that I don't want you - never, never think that."

Rose gulped down a shuddery inhale and nodded.

The Doctor drew back slightly, taking his hands from the temptation she was. "When I regenerated," he began quickly, sniffing and trying his best to affect some flippancy, "All I could think about was you. Worrying whether you would stay, worrying whether I'd absorbed all the vortex energy. You changed me. The sun rose and set on you," the Doctor gave a warm laugh, turning to the console and running his fingers along the controls. "And in my veins, there was this burning, swirling tornado of energy taken from your body. I felt your sorrow, your single-minded will to save me from the Daleks. Your love," he paused to look at her.

Rose was standing still, eyes fixed on him, unable to move - not even to wipe at her wet cheeks.

"All I wanted was for you to stay with me. Anything else was extra," he admitted, keeping his tone casual to offset the depth of emotion in his words. "And so I changed into a man custom made for you," he clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pouting thoughtfully as he circled the console.

Rose managed a smile and looked down into her cup again, her cheeks burning. "I do like your new body. I can believe that," she admitted.

The Doctor looked up at her and gave a brief grin. Then he chuckled. "'Pimp My Time Lord'," he joked, waggling his eyebrows comically as he extricated himself from the console and ambled over to the jump seat, gesturing for her to take a seat.

Rose snorted a laugh and sank back down into the seat, putting her cup down and quickly wiping her face. "S'funny, you know. 'Cause when you changed, I swore I'd seen your new face somewhere before. I don't know where or when, can't remember. Think it was back in my clubbing days - I was probably a bit drunk. But I know you were there."

The Doctor fixed his eyes on her and frowned a little bit as he sat down beside her. "Yeah?" he asked slowly.

Rose's expression turned sad. "I think you were there to say goodbye." She looked sideways to see his hand coming at her. She nearly flinched, but then paused at the gently touch of his hand on the edge of her jaw, tilting her face toward him. His fingertips ghosted across her skin, pausing on the end of her chin.

And then he leant in and pressed his lips against hers - chaste and brief. Rose pressed back, but just as soon as their lips met, they parted again.

The Doctor leant back, keeping his fingers on her jaw, still whispering along it. "I hate goodbyes," he said simply, before slowly withdrawing his hand. Then he reached across her and nabbed her cup of tea to take a long sip from it, as if nothing had happened.

Rose watched him curiously, as he grinned and finished her tea. Things couldn't change between them; she knew that. And she didn't know if the Doctor would stop entertaining the fancies of beautiful, clever women with longer lifespans or better upbringings, but she knew he loved her.

And it was enough.

A few months later, the Doctor burnt up a sun to say goodbye to his precious pink and yellow girl, but the word never got past his lips.