It had been five years. One thousand, eight hundred and twenty-six days since Rose and the Doctor-Who-Wasn't-Really-the-Doctor had been stranded, abandoned, on Earth, without a TARDIS, by the Doctor and Donna. She'd hated them at first, hated his clone thing, even hated her mother. Hated this world where she remembered every epic adventure they'd shared and yet was trapped on this boring, familiar planet. Hated the fact that the Doctor had probably already found someone else, and maybe even forgotten her. Of course, his clone reassured her that he couldn't have forgotten, but he wasn't the Doctor. He was just a transparent copy, a faded echo. He couldn't be sure.

Rose had mostly gotten over those feelings. The invasions were exciting, although the time between- they only happened about once every six months- was dull, and it showed on the Doctor's face. His fluffy brown hair somehow managed to become more unkempt, his shirts wrinkled, and his new sonic screwdriver (invasions were also useful- they usually managed to salvage some tech from the ships and even traded with the friendlier aliens, and he'd even managed to get some psychic paper) lost its shine, covered in fingerprints and grime. It was boring, and the Doctor had always thrived on excitement. Rose, too, although she felt the effects less strongly.

Rose turned onto her street. It was dark, and she was struggling to keep her eyes open. It had been a very long day. She was looking forward to seeing the Doctor again, that would surely cheer her up. They'd lived together for four and a half years. For the first three months, she'd lived with her mother, until she got tired of all the nagging. Then she'd lived alone, but she soon discovered that living alone really meant alone. So, she packed up her stuff and moved into his flat. Unlike most people assumed, they weren't together. Rose was very adamant about that- or had been, anyway. Lately, she found herself not minding nearly as much. In fact-

"Rose," she scolded herself, clearing her head of those thoughts. She parked in front of her building, shutting the car door a little harder than necessary. She unlocked the front door and took a look at the couch where he slept (it wasn't her idea, he'd insisted, so she took the bed). The blankets were messed up a bit, but he wasn't there. She put her hand on the cushion- cold. So he hadn't been here in a while. Rose sighed. These days, he was either out or sitting on his couch, flicking through the channels with nothing better to do. She really had been getting worried. Rose made a note to take him to a psychiatrist, just to make sure he wasn't depressed. It was at times like these when she realized just how hard being trapped on earth had been for the Doctor, especially after a few months ago. He'd traded some pretty valuable resources for a vortex manipulator, and gone to another planet. He'd told Rose that she could come with him next time, that he just had to make sure it was actually safe, and then disappeared for four weeks, and showed up on the front step and told her that it was broken beyond repair.

It was good that he was getting out, though. Rose supposed he'd finally found a partner and stopped pining after her. And that's a good thing, she told herself, but she couldn't help her heart drop a little at the thought. He'd always made it very clear to her that he loved her, even after she told him that she couldn't be with him. He's not the Doctor.

She woke up the next morning and noticed his absence immediately. He was usually up before her, and that man really did not know how to keep quiet. Her heart sped up slightly with worry, but she busied herself with making breakfast and tried not to think about him.

He was home when she pulled up to their flat that afternoon. "Hey," he said, glancing up at her briefly, then going back to scrawling notes in Gallifreyan.

She looked over his shoulder. "What's that?"

He smirked at her. "Can't you read?"

He'd tried on multiple occasions to teach her to read the ancient writing of the Time Lords, but she couldn't for the life of her grasp the meaning of the interlocking circles and lines. Rose rolled her eyes. "No."

"It's just a shopping list," he said vaguely, waving his arm.

"Shopping? You?"

"Hey! I help sometimes!" he protested.

"Okay," she chuckled. "Whatever you say." She turned to go to her room when a thought struck her. "Hey, where were you last night?"

The Doctor turned to look at her properly. "Um. Just... errands."

"If you've got, like, a secret girlfriend, you can tell me, you know."

"No! No. It's not... like that."

She raised an eyebrow. "Boyfriend?"

"No," he sighed. "It's just- here, how about this. Wait just a week, and I'll tell you. I promise. As a birthday present."

Rose blinked. She almost never remembered her birthday until the day of, when her mother randomly burst into her house with a present and a cake. For another thing, the Doctor almost never got her birthday presents. "Fine. A week. And don't think I won't pester the hell out of you if you're not on schedule."

His eyes laughed. Rose loved it when they did that, it made him look more real. "For some reason, I have no trouble believing that."

It was a long week. A good one, but a long one. The Doctor was more animated than he had been in years, more like he used to be, but he was also gone almost all the time now. It almost felt like Rose was living alone again. She was patient, though.

Finally, the day before her birthday came. He wasn't home. He hadn't been home last night, either. She frowned. It wasn't like him to stay out two nights in a row. She wasn't terribly worried- he could fend for himself, after all- but she missed him. He was her best friend in so many ways, even if he was just a copy. She couldn't deny, though, that he'd become his own person through the years. More empathetic, kinder, less tactless. He still had the same memories of them before being stuck on this planet, of course, but he also had the memories of their time together. He'd become softer, less rough around the edges. Unfortunately, he was still just as sarcastic. All of that did make it easy to forget where he came from, though.

"Don't worry," She said aloud to herself. She shook her head again and went to bed.

Rose woke again in a cold sweat, breathing quickly. She got up, drank a glass of water, and tried to go back to sleep. It wouldn't come. She got another glass of water, but, walking back to bed, she found her feet wouldn't obey her. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the couch, the blankets all rumpled up as usual. She sat down and brought the corner of a blanket to her face. It was plain fleece, but it was drenched in his scent.

Stop being creepy, Rose. You are not dependent on him. But she couldn't bring herself to get up and back to her bed. She breathed in the blanket, and her heart rate slowed. She lay down on the cushions, and let her eyes shut.

"Rise and shine!" There was a loud bang as the Doctor kicked open her door.

"God, what-"

"We have a lot of errands to run. It's a new day! No, wait. It's your birthday!" he shouted, then wheeled around on his heel and strode out the door.

Rose rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. Her bed. She blushed as she remembered falling asleep on his couch. Then, she blushed as she realized what waking up in her own bed meant.

She got ready and leaned against the doorframe. "As I recall, you had something to tell me."

"Ah, but has it been 168 hours yet?" He tapped his wrist, which was conspicuously devoid of a watch.

Rose rolled her eyes.

"Do thou bite thy thumb at me, sir?" he growled in mock offense.

She sighed. "No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you sir; but I do bite my thumb, sir."

"Then we have no quarrel." He sonicked the door lock open and disappeared.

Rose started after him. "I'm pretty sure that's not how it goes!" she shouted, catching up with him.

"Ah, old Willy won't mind. A bit of a flirt, though."

She laughed, and he grinned at her. She went a bit pink, and not because of the cold.

It was probably the best day of her life (or so she told herself), aside from maybe the first day she'd met the Doctor. It was dark now, though, and Rose was starting to recognize the roads they were driving on.

"Are we... going to my mum's house?" she asked, frowning.

"Oh, yes. Where else?" He said, glancing at her. Then, he did a double take. "Are you crying?"

Rose sucked in a breath and touched her face. Her hand came away wet.

Suddenly, she felt like she was going to throw up. So many bad feelings came flooding into her at once- sadness, anger, longing. "I... I..." she said weakly.

He pulled over and put a hand on her cheek, looking into her eyes. "Hey. What's the matter?"

Tears overflowed. She buried her head in his coat. "I-it's just that, you t-took me to all of these places," She gave a shaky breath, "the museums, the planetarium, even the restaurant," she said, thinking of the starry ceilings and the Doctor pointing out the wild inaccuracies in the constellations while they ate, "an-and we can never go back! It's all g-gone."

"No, no, it's not gone. It's never gone. Hey, look at me." He added.

She did, her tear-stained face glowing in the car's lights.

"We never, ever have to step one foot in those places again. We just have to visit your mom's house for a second. Then we never have to even look at them anymore."

Rose looked at the floor sheepishly, the drops falling to the carpet. "I'm s-sorry. Thanks."

"You're welcome." He leaned over and pressed his lips between her eyes. She closed them. He only did this on special occasions, and for once, she didn't jump away.

They stayed there for a few seconds. "Are you ready to go inside?" the Doctor murmured against her forehead.

Rose opened the glove compartment, grabbed a napkin, and wiped her face. She gave a little nod and then opened the passenger door. "Let's go."

They rang the bell together. Jackie opened the door a few moments later. "Goodness, it's late. I expected you sooner," she said, a towel in her hands. "Well, I suppose you should come in then. Oh, and Doctor, does this mean you'll stop coming 'round every night? Because I was getting rather tired of having you barge in all the time."

"Here? You've been coming here? To my mum's house?" said Rose incredulously. "Why?"

"You'll see. Well, actually, speaking of seeing, don't."

Rose dutifully shut her eyes.

The Doctor grabbed her hand and lead her into her old room. "Wait there," he said, walking about five feet and then stopping. "Okay. Open your eyes."

She did. And then she almost fainted. Standing in front of her, about three meters tall, was a familiar blue box, the Doctor casually leaning against it.

"So... do you like it?"

She tried to speak, but no sound came out. She tried again, and made a small noise that sounded a bit like a dying hedgehog. She cleared her throat, and the next time she spoke, she actually formed words. "Does... does it... work?"

He laughed. "No, I just robbed twentieth century London of its telephone box. Yes, it works. Almost exactly like the original, although a bit bumpier sometimes."

"Is it..."

"Bigger on the inside?" he cut her off. "Yes. Here, have a tour."

For the first time in five years, Rose Tyler stepped into a TARDIS.

She could tell it was almost an exact replica, although the console looked much less complicated, with maybe three-quarters of the buttons to the original.

"But how did you get... a console?" She asked in disbelief.

"Right. So, did you know that there's an entire planet full of broken TARDIS parts? Well, asteroid technically, but whatever."

"But how-"

"Vortex manipulator, remember?"

Rose stepped out of the box, knowing full well that this was exactly what people who had never seen the TARDIS did. The Doctor followed her.

"Happy birthday."

Rose wheeled around, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him, her eyes closing. However, to her dismay, he pulled away so quickly you'd thought he'd been shocked.

Rose's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry- I mean- I thought- I guess I just- oh God, I'm so-" she stammered, not looking at him. "I didn't mean- if you're not-" she said, meeting his open-mouthed gaze. And the Doctor, for the first time in his living memory, was speechless. Not only that, but he was blushing. He never did that. Ever. But even he couldn't deny that his face was beet-red, his thoughts racing, but going nowhere at all. Still, Rose rambled on.

"I guess I just got caught up- oh, God, I can't even-"

And he kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist, his head tilting to the left a bit.

She melted into him, forgetting everything she was supposed to have said or apologized for. She forgot everything in her life up until that point, and she especially forgot that she was in her mother's house.

Coincidentally, said mother had just walked in the room to say happy birthday. And then she walked out of the room, smiling a bit to herself.

"I guess nine hundred years of life paid off," she quipped.

He kissed her more deeply, making her forget to be sarcastic.

"You have no idea, Rose, how long..." he murmured.

"Well, I'm here now."

"Yeah," he said listlessly, and they didn't speak again.

Five minutes later, they walked into the kitchen hand in hand.

Jackie was still washing dishes, but glanced over her shoulder when she heard them coming in. She snorted. "Finally."

Rose hit her arm. "Mum!"

This time when he blushed, she got to look at him properly. It may have been the most adorable thing she'd ever seen. He still couldn't speak.

"Come on, you moron. You're going to take me somewhere in the morning, I don't care where. But you," she pointed an accusing finger at him. "You need sleep. And no, you're not taking the couch."

They never came home much after that. The Doctor had built a new bedroom for them in the TARDIS- with two beds, although Rose declared the second one a "guest" bed. They traveled, got new, better parts, almost died several times (when that happened, they had to take breaks from space. Rose lost count of the number of time she reminded him that he couldn't regenerate), but it was a good life. It was a good life.