Rose's knees are curled up to her pink-clad chest, her arms wrapped tight around them. Her back is pressed firmly against the trunk of a tree, her chin resting on her legs, and the fluttering, light green leaves and the sweet-smelling blue blossoms all around her forming a most lovely sort of a cage. Rose's mind isn't quite as pleasant of a place to be just then, as she consideres recent events.
Meanwhile, the object of her musings lies nearby, in the meadow, the green grass a soft bed for a skinny frame, gentle breezes playing through long brown hair, and sunshine caressing his pale and freckled skin.
Pale and freckled skin. Long brown hair. Tall, skinny. All these adjectives are new to her when describing her - for lack of a better word - friend; previously, she would have said he had close-cropped hair, blue eyes and broad shoulders, and the leather jacket would, of course, have been mentioned. But suddenly, everything has changed.
A long time passes, and although the light is dimming, the beauty of the setting is undiminished. Stars begin to shine overhead and several moons, tinted a pleasing shade of light blue, reveal themselves in an inky sky. Finally, when all this has come to pass, Rose stands and makes her way out to the Doctor. He doesn't awknowledge this until she's standing above him, when he turns his head and smiles widely up at her. This smile is so unfamiliar, so disconcerting, that Rose cannot bear to look. Instead she settles her gaze upon the heavens, seeking recognizable constellations, as she folds her legs to sit, then lay, next to the Doctor.
"It's brilliant, isn't it?" she murmurs eventually, now turning her eyes towards him. He doesn't respond for some time, and when he does, it's with a question of his own.
"It's different now, wouldn't you say?" His deep brown eyes search hers, a crease in his brow betraying his worry.
"No!" Rose pauses after her exclaimation before adding, "Well, a bit. You're just so different now." She intented to go about this rationally, if even at all, but suddenly her emotions betray her and her watery eyes threaten tears.
"I'm not, really, though," the Doctor whispers, his eyes locked firmly on hers, which don't quite meet his. "I mean ... I still have all the same memories, the same feelings,"
"I know that, but I don't - I miss you, but you're right here. I miss you so much!" The Doctor is silent for a minute as Rose abruptly sits upright, putting her head in her hands. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her close before beginning to whisper in her ear.
He's careful to use a Northern accent as he recounts past adventures; Cassandra, 1869, Harriet Jones, Jack, the Game Station ... Eventually, Rose grows weary, and her eyelids flutter shut. The Doctor's warm, reassuring voice murmurs on, now telling tales of times long gone, of people and places he briefly knew. When stars wheel in the sky, and now he's no longer sure if he's speaking for her or for him. He talks about the burnt orange skies of his home, of how the TARDIS stole him, of planets filled with flowers, of dogs with no noses. And when his voice stops, he carries her down the shadow-filled path, the song of time beating in his pulse and winding its way into her heart.
She wakes up in her own bed to the smell of burnt waffles, and though she's can't recall much of which the Doctor spoke of, she feels alright again and she doesn't long for big ears and blue eyes. She hangs the leather jacket, which she'd been hoarding in her bedroom, in the Wardrobe. Then she dresses to go to New New New New New York with the New New New Doctor.
Post "Christmas Invasion"
