I promise I'm still working on Die and Be Again, I just had another idea (well quite a few and I like writing more than one story at a time), so here is my take on season 3 with Rose. Please give it a shot. I swear, I am not rewriting the season - some stories will have the same basic premise but they will be changed like no one's business and no lines will be the same. It won't be like watching the episode. Enjoy and please tell me if you'd like me to continue!
Rose sniffled lightly, her hiccoughs and heavy tears tapering off as she snuggled firmly into the Doctor's side. The jumpseat squeaked slightly as she burrowed into the crook of his arm and the Doctor tightened his grip, lips grazing the top of Rose's head tenderly.
He knew she didn't regret it, coming back to him across the Void, but she's just lost her mum and a chance to get to know a Pete – separate, of course, from the Pete, but a Pete nonetheless – and her best mate from infanthood – again. There's bound to be a bit of sadness all 'round.
The Doctor wouldn't admit it, but he'd miss Jackie too. Not the slaps, 'course, but her tea and the way she fussed over Rose and maybe those unexpected, affection-filled hugs she sprung on him once in a blue moon. Maybe.
The sniffing tapered off and Rose's breathing deepened and evened out. Snuggling his sleeping companion closer, the Doctor stood and adjusted Rose in his grip before he headed out of the console room, her bedroom just on the other side of the entranceway courtesy of the TARDIS.
He took his time tucking Rose in, moving her malleable body into a comfortable position and brushing stray hairs away from her face tenderly.
Her skin was soft and warm and his fingers lingered, his body slowly sinking to sit on the edge, hip tucked gently into the curve of her back. Hand framing Rose's cheek, the Doctor finally released the breath it seems he'd been holding since Rose's feet went airborne as they opened the breech.
She'd stayed. Well, in all actuality, she'd come back and then stayed. Then she'd held on to that lever and the Doctor knew her strength had come from the look of anguish in his eyes. Rose was never more determined than when it came to making sure he wouldn't get hurt.
No one would ever have done what Rose had done, no matter what they said. No one would have chosen him above their family, their chosen life course; he's always just been a vacation, the excitement that grandkids are told about. But Rose, his dear sweet, pink and yellow human, had chosen him.
The Doctor's hearts broke for love of this girl. And as he finally straightened up with one gentle kiss across Rose's lips, he made a decision. She always chooses him and it was about time that he finally chose her too.
The Doctor's quick, efficient use of the sonic came to a slow halt as his mind ran around and around the obvious and the distressful:
He'd almost lost her. Without taking that final step, without falling over that precipice they'd been standing on for months – well, years, now, really, and he'd almost lost her. And the thought didn't hurt any less than if they'd been together. The Doctor was a bright man, well, a brilliant, genius of man, but when it came to emotions, he was about as knowledgeable as a stump.
"But that's behind us now."
"What's behind us now?"
The Doctor jerked and slammed his forehead into the underside of the console, a crude curse slipping free that the TARDIS did not deign to translate. Rose giggled.
"Blimey, so glad you find my pain amusing, love," the Doctor groused as he clambored out from the maintenance hole.
His body came level with Rose, who's eyebrows shot upward and who's eyes flashed with hope quickly concealed. The Doctor winced; he'd done that; taught her that in the most cruel ways possible. Taking a deep breath to fortify himself (because conviction or not, the Doctor's been running from stuff like this for eons), the Doctor gently gripped Rose's hands in his own and llead her to the jumpseat.
Rose sat, apprehension beginning to shine in her eyes as she watched the Doctor settle on his knees in front of her. Noticing, the Doctor reached for her cheek, hand cupping the side as his thumb caressed the apple.
"No, no, no. Nothing bad, Rose. I promise. I-"
The Doctor stopped to take a deep breath and then finished with, "I wanted to know where you wanted to go for our first proper date. Fantastic as it was, end of the world and chips just doesn't seem right, you know?"
He refused to lower his eyes. Rose deserved this and he needed her to know, with a desperation he'd never felt before, that he meant this. Playtime was over.
Confusion slowly gave way to joy on Rose's face; her eyes widening and starting to shine, her wide mouth displaying that tongue-touched grin he loved so, so much. His own daft grin spread across his face and in seconds, they were hugging.
He felt Rose breathe in deep of his scent and then nuzzle into his neck. Seconds passed for them before she spoke: "This isn't just 'cause I chose y-"
The Doctor jerked back, eyes seeking and holding Rose's own fiercely.
"Never, ever think that, Rose. Ever. I'm asking because... because I..."
The words wouldn't come. He felt them, but they wouldn't come! Biting his lip, the Doctor dropped his head, disappoinment in himself spreading like wildfire.
Soft hands cupped his face and lifted it upward. There, Rose's eyes gazed down fondly, a soft smile crossing her lips.
"You don't have to say it, Doctor. Not now, not yet. It's more'n enough that you want to go on a date, right now."
She leaned in to lay a kiss on the Doctor's forehead, nuzzling into his hair after. "Say it when you're ready and not a moment before."
A grin to rival the shining of the sun spread across the Doctor's face and he exuberantly burst out," You're always magnificent, Rose! Now, where do you want to go? Dinner and dancing on Xyliom, picnic and mokka bear rides on Priffin, good ol' fashioned movie in London?"
He was dancing around the console now, flicking switches and pressing buttons, his old hyperactivity back with a vengeance.
"I want to go golfing on Earth's moon, 21st century."
The Doctor spun in place, smile nearly swallowing the rest of his face as he exclaimed, "Excellent choice, Ms Tyler. Do lets go pick out our space-golfing suits!"
He input the coordinates, then pumped, flipped and pushed and in seconds, they were settling quite roughly onto the surface of the moon.