Rose knocked eagerly on the door of the TARDIS; it was so rare that it was closed to her, but she didn't care.

"Oh, TARDIS, old girl, I've missed you so much!" She knew she sounded like the Doctor, but she didn't care. She was old beyond her years, he was older than he looked—or maybe he looked old now! That thought made her crinkle her nose a little, but she pushed it aside quickly, continuing to knock. He was in there, waiting for her.

When finally the door opened, before her stood a youngish man with short, light brown hair and somewhat vacant eyes.

She leapt forward happily, throwing her arms about him. "Doctor!" she cried; he responded by awkwardly shrugging her off.

"Um…no, actually, name's Rory," he said shakily. "Doctor's down the hall—you a friend of his?"

Rose blinked away embarrassment and beamed at him. "Yeah," she said. "Something like that. I'm just all jumpy, you know, 'cause…" She trailed off as she looked over the man's shoulder and saw the TARDIS interior. "Wait—what happened to her?"

Rory followed her gaze in confusion. "Who—you mean the TARDIS? It's always been…"

"No, she used to be…there were coral-like pillars, here, and here," Rose insisted, stepping past Rory into the TARDIS. "And leopard-print portholes all along the walls. He's made her steampunk…?"

Rory shrugged. "Never really thought about it. I'm guessing, though, it was always—"

"Bigger on the inside," Rose nodded.

"Rory!" They turned to see an irritated-looking ginger woman come their direction from about the console. Her hands cradled an engorged stomach, and her eyes lit up when she saw Rose. "Hey! A blondie! See that, Rory, we got a brunette, a ginger, and a blonde now! How about that?"

"Rose Tyler," Rose said, extending a hand. The woman accepted it happily.

"Amy Pond."

"Williams," Rory interjected; Amy rolled her eyes.

"You heard the Doctor, Rory. It's Pond! You're Rory Pond now, that's how it works!" She returned her gaze to Rose. "Are you with the bride or groom—no! Don't tell me, with the groom. You must be one of loverboy's old gal-pals."

"I'm—what?" Rose asked; she suddenly got the sense that there was something very key she was missing, and had been missing since she'd arrived.

"The wedding!" Amy exclaimed, throwing her hands out before swallowing and placing one on her stomach again. "You know! The Doctor's invited everybody—everybody within this time period and the general vicinity—to be there."

"I'll go get them," Rory said quickly, turning and bolting down a hallway before a door opened in front of him.

It closed slowly behind the dark, vague silhouette of a man whose crescent-moon eyes shone in the light of the TARDIS console.

"I thought I heard a voice," the man said slowly; it was a strange voice, but Rose had no doubt to whom it belonged. "The voice of a ghost. And—there she is, but she can't be real, can she?"

"Doctor," Rose breathed throatily. She couldn't speak properly now that he was only meters from her grasp, and she finally darted across the room, leaping into a willing, tight embrace. She breathed into his soft, cotton pajama top, breathing him in and curling her fingers into the fabric so that no force could wrench them apart. She didn't care, not for a moment, that he was a different man, because he was the Doctor. He would always be the Doctor.

It had to be minutes before they released one another, but it felt like moments. The Doctor sighed into her hair, pushing her away gently before poking a finger into her face.

"You should not be here," he said slowly. Rose rolled her eyes, pushing the finger away.

"You should stop changing your face," she countered with a lopsided grin. "It's…disconcerting."

"I like this one," he replied with a little smile. "I'm a bit…Sherlock Holmes." Amy snorted behind them, but the Doctor chose to ignore her.

"You look about four years old," Rose smirked. "You sure you're quite old enough to pilot this ship?"

"Young Sherlock Holmes, then," the Doctor replied. "I'm flexible."

They looked at one another for several moments afterwards, unable to stop smiling. Rose slowly reached for the hems of the Doctor's sleeves to pull him into a bit more light, and it was as though the TARDIS became that much brighter for her. She traced the lines of his face in her eyes; reached up to push a hand through his hair—then finally pushed herself onto her toes to plant a kiss. Before their lips met, he turned his head to the side, and she caught his cheek.

"Well, happy day!" the Doctor exclaimed, clapping her on the shoulder as he turned to the others. "The gang's all here—" he turned to Rose. "Martha and Mickey showed up just the day before yesterday, Jack's been here four days, and Sarah Jane's been here all week helping—well, sort of—really, put her and Sylvia in a room and watch the battles begin. It's actually good fun." He laughed lightly, and Rose furrowed her brow.

"What are you talking about?" she asked slowly.

"The wedding!" he exclaimed. "Me, Donna. Saturday! Isn't it just marvelous?" Suddenly, Rose's heart fell through the floor.