The lighting in the TARDIS console room was subdued, attuned, as ever, to the mood of its sole occupant. The green-hued light pulsed softly and rhythmically like the pulse of some enormous creature, illuminating the grim features of the Doctor. He sat splay-legged on the floor, back propped against one of the ornate, organic pillars, staring into nothing. Brooding, Rose would have called it. But he'd earned it.

Lately the feeling that he was running out of time seemed to be dogging him relentlessly. And he wasn't ready for this life to end. Not by a long shot. He figured around another sixty or so years would be enough. If only he could somehow slow down the passage of those years, to give himself time to imprint the feeling of her hand in his into his hearts. Perhaps then he'd never have to feel alone again for the rest of his existence.

But that wasn't going to happen. And she was part of the reason why. His own little wolf. From the first moment he'd taken her hand in the basement of that department store he'd known exactly what she was. By the the time they'd prevented the Nestene consciousness from taking over Earth he'd realized that she was so much more dangerous than that. Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf wrapped up in one innocent, exuberant, compassionate girl

Taking her along with him was a huge risk - to both of them. If he'd left her on Earth she might never know of the taint she carried, just passed it along to future generations while living a normal, happy, safe life. But he wasn't that strong. Not any more. She made him feel alive again. A mirthless grin split his face. Ironic, really. She could be the death of him, but he really didn't care.

An oft-quoted acquaintance of his from ancient China had once told him "keep your friends close and your enemies closer." But Rose wasn't the enemy, was she? Just an unwitting pawn in a game she didn't even know she was playing. The wolf was baying at the door and he honestly didn't know if he could beat it this time. He wasn't the game player some of his previous incarnations had been. Didn't have the hearts for it any more. Preferred to to leap into the action, fix what he could fix, and avoid the messy aftermath.

For a time he'd thought Utah might be the endgame. A long Dalek falling through a time hole and ending up on Earth just seemed a little ... contrived really. The less-than-subtle machinations of his old foe, impatient to play the game again, sensing his weakness perhaps. The consequences of the Time War just kept rippling ever outward.

When he'd seen Rose's blistered palm and heard her guilt-soaked explanation of how the Dalek had manipulated her into releasing it he'd felt his hearts twist, blood turning to ice in his veins. That compassion would be her undoing, just as his love for her would be his.

He scowled at his hands, upturned in his lap. Love? Absurd notion. Stupid little ape idea. There was no room in his hearts for it, outside of an expansive love for the universe in general and all its infinite wonders. He drew his knees up to his chest and leaned against them, burying his face in his hands. But it was true. He did love her. Despite himself, in spite of what she was. A groan of despair died on lips as he heard footsteps moving toward the the console room.

"Doctor?"

He said nothing, hoping to be left alone for a while longer yet.

"Doctor?" the voice called again.

"What d'ya want, Adam?"

The boy shuffled closer, clearly still overawed by the time machine. "I, um, couldn't sleep. Thought I'd see if Rose was still awake. Only," he stared at his feet, embarrassed, "I can't seem to find her room. I keep going in circles, somehow."

That almost brought a smile to his face. The old girl liked Rose, too. Obviously didn't want this smarmy git trying it on while she was exhausted and vulnerable.

"The kitchen's on the way back to your room. Make yourself some hot milk if can't sleep." He worked hard to keep his tone neutral. As much as he resented this boy's presence on his ship, resented Rose's interest in him, he'd allowed him on board for the same reason he'd asked Mickey the Idiot to come along. They were a buffer between himself and Rose. Without them, with her full attention focused solely on him he felt paralysed, like a deer caught in headlights.

Adam turned and trudged away. "Oh, and Adam?" the Doctor called nonchalantly.

"Yeah?"

"Rose's had a rough day. Leave her be for bit, yeah?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

'Dopey twat', he thought. 'Genius my arse.' But he was useful. 'I need more time.' Time to figure out what his old adversary was plotting. And how to keep Rose from getting caught in the crossfire.