**I expect you'll expect what you'd normally expect from fics with this title and theme. Still, I hope you enjoy this little fluffy-snog-with-small-angst ride. And a (belated) Happy Christmas and Happy New Year to you all! (Oh, and I'm not from New York, so if I screw up someone's home city, well, greetings from the west coast.)**

Even after all of his 900 years spent flying through time and space, exploring every planet and time period he came across to his hearts' content, the Doctor still had no logical explanation why women took so long to get ready.

"Rooose, come on!" He called over his shoulder, towards the TARDIS corridor and his companion's bedroom, where he knew Rose was getting ready for the day's excursion. "We'll be late!"

"We're in a time ship!" She shouted back to him.

The Time Lord rolled his eyes and leaned back against the console, facing the corridor where his pink and yellow human would (hopefully) appear. "Exactly. And time ships can only land in any location, especially a fixed point, a limited number of times." A spot on the back of his neck began to itch and he bent his head to scratch it.

"To prevent paradoxes, yeah?" He heard her ask as her toes finally appeared in his line of sight.

"Yep!" The Doctor looked up and any words he might have said next left him in an astonished wave. "Rose…um, that shirt…"

"You like it?" Her tongue-touched smile was in its usual place as she stretched her shirt to give it the full effect. The Union Jack printed across the front was like a heavenly brand to his unaccustomed eyelids.

"Like it? I…" Was it appropriate to be honest and say that he loved that shirt as much now as he did the first time she wore it? Was that allowed? It was difficult to form words when a simple top made her…curves that much more desirable. He swallowed. "It's…very fitting."

"You think?" Rose glanced down at herself, but although she blushed it appeared to the Doctor that she really didn't know the half of what she did to him.

Before he could even think of a right way to phrase what he'd felt in his hearts since the beginning, Rose jumped beside him and switched gears. "So, where're we going, then?"

Now that was something he knew how to respond to. "Right!" He clapped his hands together and grinned. "New Year's Eve, 1999. This is the dawning of a new era, Rose Tyler, and you'll be there to see it!"

Rose returned his smile, but she couldn't contain a small eye roll. "Doctor, I've seen that New Year's. That was only, what, six years ago?"

"Well, you're right about that. Watched it on telly with your mum, right?" He barely gave her enough time to nod. "Ah, but a telly's rubbish! Not when you can see the real thing."

She shrugged and trailed her hand along the console's edge. She had to admit that it would be fun to see a (somewhat recent) momentous event like that from a different angle. And there were certainly plenty of fun things to do at midnight on New Year's Eve, feverish count downs and fireworks aside. Bars had a 24-hour "happy hour" tonight, and if she played her cards right, she could be witness to a very drunk Time Lord.

"Alright, we'll do that," she said. "And where will we be on New Year's Eve, in the final minutes of the year 1999?"

Was that question supposed to sound sexy? Or did it just sound that way because he couldn't get his eyes off her hand, which was stroking the TARDIS console with a reverence that made him jealous? The Doctor met her eyes and inclined his head towards her. "Anywhere you like. Though, with your t-shirt I think we should just stick to Britain."

"Way to limit my choices, Doctor."

"You're the one wearing the Union Jack!"

Rose rolled her eyes. She always enjoyed their playful bantering, even if it never went farther than light flirting (unfortunately). "Well, to tell you the truth, I've always wondered what it'd be like in New York."

"New York?" He frowned slightly in consideration, and tossed his head back and forth as if weighing the options. "Nothing wrong with the Big Apple, I suppose. But don't you think that's a bit…well, boring? We could see the change of a millennium on Raxacoricofalabitorious, or the dawn of a new age on Jurgon 6. Even be present at the prime minister's New Year's Eve party for the year 2999 in space-age London." His lips curled up. "Oh, now, there's a party. Have you ever seen the dance called the Neanderthal? It's usually done alongside a DJ playing electric jazz."

"Doctor…" Rose said in a warning tone. "No diversion tactics." Though a part of her really wondered what this Doctor's new moves would look like.

When the Doctor still seemed hesitant, she laid it on thick. "Oh, come on, Doctor, what's wrong with New York? I doubt it's as bad as people say it is."

"No, Rose, New York's great. Brilliant, in fact. It's just…" Oh, how could he phrase this? Rose, I can't let you go to New York, because then you'll find some handsome American who can give you everything you desire and we all know what happened when Jack Harkness showed up, or even better, New York is much too crowded for the things I'm planning to do with you. Oh, yeah, that last one was a real deal-breaker. Jackie Tyler could probably sense those kinds of thoughts running rampant in his magnificent Time Lord brain and was getting her palms ready.

Then she gave him those big hazel-brown eyes and that gorgeous smile, and he knew he was done for. "Oh…fine." He pointed his finger at her. "But I bet you're going to wish you were in space-age London!"

Rose grinned as the Doctor jumped around the console in his usual dance. "How about ten quid, seeing as how you still haven't paid me back for werewolf-infested Scotland?"

He completed his circuit and laid his hand on the final lever. "Done," he pronounced, and he pulled it down.

One bumpy ride later, and Rose stepped out of the TARDIS into a New York City alleyway, the Union Jack splayed across her chest as if daring someone to call her out on it. The Doctor followed her out, a small smile playing across his face. They stopped short as they realized that they'd landed right in front of a dirty old man. Homeless, if his patched and sagging clothes were anything to go by.

"Hello!" The Doctor said. Always the greeter, him, if only to help put people more at ease.

But the man just shook his head quickly and sprinted deeper into the alleyway, glancing behind him every other step.

"Will he be alright?" Rose asked quickly.

"Oh, he'll be fine," the Doctor answered. Then he turned and help up his arm. "Shall we, Dame Rose?"

Rose had lost count of the number of times they'd used that inside joke, especially when it was just the two of them, but she grinned at the reference anyway. "We shall, Sir Doctor."

Not two steps later, she muttered, "And remember about my ten quid. It'll soon be twenty, you know."

"Someone's confident," he whispered in her ear, drawing a small shiver from her. It also didn't escape the Doctor's notice that Rose had chosen to wear that pair of jeans he liked so much, the ones that clung to her like a second skin. It took a tremendous amount of Time Lord willpower not to demonstrate his true affections for those jeans, and the pink-and-yellow human in them, on the surrounding walls here and now.

But then they stepped onto the main street, and all of the Doctor's dirty fantasies were briefly forgotten. Times Square, even the outer reaches of it, had too many things to stimulate the senses. Enormous billboards flashed advertisements above their heads, while shop windows had their own array of neon lights and signs showcasing exotic beers and specialty items. Streamers were hung across streets, alleyways, and apartment windows. Somewhere above them, a speaker was blasting out American pop tunes. And where there weren't lights or sounds or colors, the Doctor and Rose saw people. They covered the streets like a writhing blanket, and crowded against each other in one yelling and shouting mass.

Rose was in awe. "We're…we're in New York!" She shouted, her hands flying to her mouth. And then, just for good measure, she swallowed the Doctor in a tight hug. "We're here, in America, and there's so many people…and it smells, Doctor! It smells terrible!"

The Doctor's grin was so wide it looked like it might sprout wings. "New York, New York. The Big Apple, front gate to the Land of Opportunity, one of the most important stock exchanges in the world, and, may I say, home of the longest-running and best production of 'The Lion King'. Outside of London, of course." He glanced down at her. "But what's with all this extra excitement? Sure, this may be New York, but it's just like every other city."

She swatted him on the arm. "Oi! You and your vast knowledge of Earth cities." Her face turned thoughtful. "When I was a kid, I used to dream of being a singer. Mum didn't always like that dream, but we promised each other that we'd slip off on a vacation to New York as soon as we could. Never happened, obviously, but still. It would've been fun." She smiled. "If mum could see me now! Wait till I tell her, she'll be so jealous!"

"Remind me when we get back to the TARDIS and I'll take you to see New York back in the old days, when Elvis was just starting gain some popularity. Or maybe you'd rather see this street in the 1930s?" Now it was time for the Doctor to turn thoughtful. "I'm in San Francisco right now, battling the Master. Not this me, of course. My eighth regeneration."

"Who's the Master?"

He frowned and shook his head. "An old enemy, and an older friend." Then his face cleared and he turned to her with another grin, as if forcing his path from making an appearance and ruining the moment. "But that's enough chat, don't you think? It's 11:57 right now and we want be in Times Square for the main event."

Rose nodded and grinned, silently agreeing with him that this "Master" character could wait for another time. Together they raced in between the crowds of people heading in the same direction they were.

She barely had time to appreciate the vast size of Times Square, or the blinding advertisement boards, or the rock band blaring out a poorly-done Beatles cover, or even the insane amount of people packet into a single space, before the Doctor pulled her by her hand again and they were back in the mob. Most ignored them as they sped past, but there were a few who gave the Doctor the evil eye when he nearly knocked them over in his haste. How they must look: he the dashing young man, her the blond-haired woman gripping his hand, and both grinning like they were on a first date. Two older ladies took one look at the Doctor and gave Rose hearty winks.

They finally skidded to a stop just as the countdown started on its last minute. Quick as anything the Doctor found a small ledge and pulled Rose up behind him, giving them that extra bit of height needed to see above the heads of the New Yorkers. Rose wondered if this had been the Doctor's plan all along. They had a remarkably good view of the countdown and the crystal ball.

Not that she was complaining. Rose glanced at the Doctor and found that he was as gleeful as she was. They met eyes and squeezed their clasped hands tighter, and then counted down in time with everyone in Times Square, and the rest of the east coast of the United States.

"19…18…17…16…15…"

Rose felt the Doctor's arm slip over her shoulders.

"12…11…10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

A trumpet sounded the moment the crystal ball touched down, and the Square lit up with a raucous cheer. Confetti and streamers fell freely from the buildings above them. And even though the song, "New York, New York", was blaring from the loud speakers placed on all sides of Times Square, it was almost drowned out by the noise of the crowds as they laughed and hugged and celebrated. Rose couldn't tell if the darkness far above her head was the night sky or an ill-placed roof.

She turned to the Doctor to see how he was enjoying himself, seeing as how domestics were never really his thing, but then she realized that he was spinning her. Rose didn't even have a chance to think properly before the Doctor's lips met hers.

Maybe it was a mistake, and he hadn't meant for it to go this far. Or maybe he only did that on a whim and didn't mean anything by it. But no matter the reason, Rose was determined to see this kiss through, especially if it might be her last with him. The moment her mouth relaxed against his, the Doctor's arms wound around her waist and tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. Rose's tongue flicked against his lips, and suddenly his essence exploded on her tongue. She was being literally swept away with his passion, her only anchor being her hands, one clutching the back of his shirt and the other blazing a trail up the back of his neck. Happy New Year, indeed, Rose mused, before another swipe of the Doctor's skillful tongue made her thoughts fly out the window.

Rose was fully intending on making that kiss last a lifetime, and it seemed like the Doctor had the same idea, but the universe had other plans. Just as his fingers grazed the top of her jeans, something suddenly crashed into them. Rose's eyes flew open and she stumbled backwards, saved from falling off the small ledge by the Doctor's embrace. Around them people had backed up slightly with alarm on their faces, but a few were still eyeing them with interest. Their kiss had clearly attracted some attention.

Then the Doctor noticed something over her shoulder. "Oi! You there! Stop!" He cried, and once again they were running through the crowds. Except this time, there was one distinct difference: now they were chasing someone, or something.