The Doctor kicked off his Converses and removed his pinstriped suit coat, draping it over an armchair. He leaned against the side of the window and watched the sliver of moonlight that penetrated the room as it flickered across Rose's closed eyes.

At times, she reminded him of his Romana, young and joyful, at times of Sarah Jane with her feisty attitude and endless devotion, but at times she was just Rose, bright and unique and his.

He sighed, looking over the hills of Cardiff to where they had left the Tardis. The full moon still hung high low in the sky beyond the Welsh mountains. He missed his ship, he missed the familiar feel of her floor beneath his feet and the stacks of books in the library. It pained him to be so far away from her for a whole day, to not know if he would ever feel the satisfying lurch of movement in the time vortex again.

Rose stirred in her sleep, her fist clenching at the sheets. The Doctor stepped towards the bed, remembering the first time they had ever had to share. Usually, he didn't sleep, so he would pace the room and think whenever they got trapped somewhere overnight. It is easy to think all night when you know so much, he had told her once. But that particular night he had been wounded and drained of power by a possessing alien spirit that fatigued him, and they had slept side by side.

Now, he had let her have the bed to herself, knowing she was spent after a day of being chased by a werewolf and a train of men interested in her lack of decent attire. She cried out in her sleep, and the Doctor ran to her, shaking her shoulder.

"Rose! Rose, wake up!"

Her eyes flickered and she awoke suddenly, gasping. He brushed her hair back, laying his hand on her forehead. "Are you alright? You were all shaky."

She nodded, catching her breath. "It was just a… bad dream."

The Doctor frowned, sitting down beside her on the bed. "What was it about?"

Rose propped herself up on a pillow, wiping the sweat off of her neck. "It's nothing. Really. Just a stupid nightmare."

He studied her eyes for a moment. "You and I both know that the stuff of nightmares is quite often very real. What did you dream?"

She fingered the hem of the sheet. "I dreamt I was the wolf. It was… dark. And it hurt. And I could feel the moonlight, the bloodlust…" Rose choked on the last word. The Doctor took her hand.

"Now, that is just a dream. Had you said you were being chased by flesh eating aliens with laser guns, I might not be able to say that. But look," he said, pointing at the window. "Moonlight. And you haven't gotten all hairy or toothy, not anymore than usual anyway, so I can say with utter certainty, that it is just a dream." With the last words he leaned forward and looked at her intently, squeezing her hand and then letting it go.

Rose laughed a bit and nodded. The Doctor noticed there were tear tracks around her eyes and he frowned slightly. "Now, Rose, you should get some sleep. No idea what evil we might come up against tomorrow!" He made to stand up, patting her on the head.

"Doctor?"

He stopped, sinking into the bed again. "What is it?"

She bit her lip. "Could you stay here? I don't think I can sleep again, after…"

The Doctor swallowed. "'Course." He wrapped an arm around her and drew her close, letting her head fall on his chest. She clutched a handful of his shirt between her shaking fingers and closed her eyes.

He ran a hand through her hair, gently stroking her soft locks. He wondered how her hair could be so soft after she had been locked in a dungeon for most of the day.

"My mum used to do that," she murmured, "When I was a kid and I couldn't sleep."

"Oh, so now I'm being compared to Jackie?"

The Doctor saw her smile weakly. "It's not so bad," she whispered. "To me anyway."

"Goodnight, Rose Tyler."

"'Night, Doctor."

Her breaths deepened and her grip on his shirt loosened. The Doctor continued to stroke her hair.