Rose's breath caught in her chest as she stared at the Doctor in disbelief, feeling that the room had suddenly been blown wide and macroscopic. She'd never felt so miniscule in her whole life.

After a moment her eyes began to burn and she tilted her head backwards in order to stop the tears from spilling forth.

Distantly, Rose felt the Doctor stroking her arm, but instead she focused on a pearl-shaped splatter on the ceiling, the result of the time she and the Doctor attempted to make pancakes on the newly sonic frying pan. ("I've set it to pancakes mode, Rose, it will flip the batter on its own!")

Rose wondered if the stain would still be there after she was gone, or if the TARDIS will have cleaned the ceiling by then.

"Seven months," she breathed, voice barely audible. "All of time and space, and I've got seven months."

The Doctor gripped both her shoulders firmly, pulling her from the trance she'd fallen into.

"Look at me, Rose," he said calmly, and she did, surprised at the focused intensity she found there. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Rose couldn't help but laugh bitterly.

"Doctor, you saw as well as I did - my shoes were still in the closet, my photos hanging on the vanity, hell, even my toothbrush was sitting next to the sink," she said. "Whatever happened - happens - it's clear that I didn't - don't - plan on leaving."

The Doctor stood so abruptly that Rose jumped, arm instinctively flying out to catch his teetering chair before it toppled over. He paced a small stretch of the kitchen, both hands tugging at his hair.

"But I wouldn't just let something-" he started, clearly frustrated, before stopping short. Taking a deep breath, the Doctor stopped pacing and turned back towards Rose. "That's why I've been spending so much time in there - I've been over the room piece by piece, searching for clues, anything that might give me a hint of what happened, of how I can stop it."

Even though it was her fate that hung in the balance, Rose couldn't stand to see the Doctor in so much distress. She walked over to him and took his hand, gently caressing his skin with her thumb.

"Doctor, if that room is in the future that means it already happened" she said sadly.

"You know it doesn't work like that."

"It could be a fixed point in time."

"It's not."

"How do you know?"

The Doctor glowered and stepped away, freeing his hand from hers as he began to pace again.

"I'm the last of the Time Lords - I determine what's a fixed point in time and what isn't," he said angrily, bracing his hands against the kitchen counter and leaning over it, back to his companion. " And you're not, Rose," he said quietly. "You are not."

Seeing the Doctor like that, defeated and hunkered over the countertop, caused Rose's eyes to start burning again. Taking a deep breath, she walked toward him and slowly wrapped her arms around him, encircling his chest.

It took a moment, but soon the Doctor's rigid form softened and he lifted his hands off the table to cover hers. Rose held him tighter, feeling the muscles of his back under her cheek, the flutter of his hearts under her fingertips. After a little while the Doctor turned around and pulled Rose into a tight hug, resting his cheek atop her head.

"I'm sorry for that," he said softly. "I just don't often feel this way - helpless."

"I know," Rose said, voice muffled against his suit. As the Doctor's hands began to rub concentric circles on her back, she nuzzled into his chest.

"Doctor?" she asked after a contented moment.

"Hm?"

"Why do you think your glasses were in there? And your book?"

Rose sensed the Doctor's hesitation by the way she could feel his breath catch beneath her cheek, so she continued.

"Do you think you spend a of lot in time in there? After- after I'm gone?"

The Doctor remained silent, but Rose felt him nod against her hair.

"I hate the thought of that," she said bitterly. "You on this ship alone, mourning in my bedroom even after the TARDIS deemed it unused."

"Don't worry, Rose, it's not going to happen," he said confidently. "I'm going to figure this out and stop whatever it is that would have separated… taken you away."

Rose held the Doctor tighter and shook her head, strangely already feeling resolved to her fate. Even as the Doctor readied himself for a fight with the future, Rose knew that was one area in which she was completely helpless.

But preparing the Doctor for what's to come, for what very well may be a future without her - that was something she could wrap her head around, something she could handle.

Taking a shaking breath, Rose withdrew from the Doctor's embrace and took his hand, leading him out of the kitchen and through the winding halls of the TARDIS.

"Thought you'd have had enough of this room for today," the Doctor joked half-heartedly as Rose pushed open the door to the Storage Room. She squeezed his hand as they stepped inside, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood.

"Well, Doctor, I've got an idea that I think should suit us both just fine," she replied, smiling up at him as they walked past door after door, hoping her smile seemed less forced than it felt.

When they reached the white door with the hand-painted flower, Rose hesitated a moment. The Doctor, sensing her reluctance, stepped forward and turned the handle, pushing the door open. Rather than step inside, he waited next to Rose for another minute until she was ready to cross the threshold, which she eventually did with baited breath.

Once inside, Rose's eyes scanned the room twice before she frowned and let out the breath she had been holding.

"Nothing's changed," she said flatly, glancing around once more. "I thought maybe, now that I knew about it, something would be different. Or that it might not be here at all."

When the Doctor didn't reply, Rose looked up at him to find his brow knit, eyes darting around the room. Dropping her hand, he pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and adjusted the settings before stalking off to scan different areas of the space.

"Doctor?" Rose asked, more confused than ever. "What is it?"

"Something has changed," he said, continuing his work. "It's small, almost weightless, but I can feel it. There issomething that wasn't here before."

"Something bad?" Rose gulped, hoping they hadn't done something stupid, like cut down her mere seven months. The Doctor turned the sonic off.

"Nah," he said, turning back to her with a smile. "The mass is so tiny it's practically insignificant. Just curious, that."

The Doctor placed the sonic back in his pocket and strode back to where Rose was standing near the doorway.

"So," he started, sounding like his cheery old self. "What's this idea then, Lewis?"

Rose brightened, trying to shove the building feeling of dread to the back of her consciousness. Gathering her thoughts, she shut the door so they wouldn't have a view of the creepy Storage Room corridor and sat down on the bed.

"Well," she began, clasping her hands together, "you want to look for clues in here to try to figure out what might have happened - or what might be going to happen - whatever. And I am sick and tired of being bored out of my mind, left to wander the TARDIS alone," the Doctor smiled at that, and Rose returned it inch for inch. "So, I thought I'd hang out with you in here too."

Rose noticed the Doctor's eyebrows were raised high on his forehead as if he was waiting for her to continue. She mimicked her expression, tongue poking out from the corner of her smile.

"That's it?" he asked. "That's your whole plan? Oh come on, I see those wheels in your head spinning - out with it."

Rose bit her lip and pulled one of the bed's decorative pillows into her lap, gaze falling to a frayed string she began pulling.

"Um, well I also thought," she started, then hesitated. "I mean, just in case it is a fixed point in time, in case we can't change anything. I don't want you to walk down the dark Storage Room hallway and into this room and only have sad thoughts, you know?"

Rose glanced up at the Doctor tentatively to find him smiling sadly down at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she rushed to continued first.

"I know you're gonna say you're not gonna let that happen, but it would make me feel better to be prepared for the worst. And hope for the best. Or however that saying goes," she said, placing the pillow back on the duvet and holding his gaze. "I think we should create some happy memories in here for you to have, just in case. What's it called.. positive association?"

The Doctor smiled again and ran his hand over the back of his neck. Rose knew it went against his nature, to concede that there might be a fraction of a chance that he would not succeed, that he would lose her; to actually prepare for that time.

Rose bit her lip as she waited for his response, suddenly aware of how desperately she was clinging to this idea. She noted that her plan was a textbook example of how a person reacts when feeling powerless - the need to control any little aspect of their life that they can.

"Alright," the Doctor said, jostling Rose from her thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Sure, don't see why not," he replied, squeezing his neck one last time before rolling his head from one side to the other. "Like you said, I'll be holed up in here anyway. Might as well have some fun while we're at it."

He grinned and Rose smiled back, finally feeling calm for the first time since she saw his sticky fingerprints on the Storage Room door.

"So, what do you want to do?" he asked.

"Hm," Rose said, realizing she hadn't thought that far ahead yet. "We could watch a film?"

"Do you watch films in here?" the Doctor asked, sounding a little hurt. "We usually watch films together in the media room."

"Only when you're working on the TARDIS or right before I go to sleep," Rose said hurriedly. "And I'm sure to only watch girly movies that I know you wouldn't like."

"Oh, right," he replied, winking. "Don't much feel like a film right now, though."

"Yeah, me either," Rose said, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers as she thought.

She watched for a moment as the Doctor seemed transfixed by the motion, focused on her hand, before dropping his eyes to the floor and shuffling his feet. Smiling, Rose rolled her eyes. Daft Time Lord.

"I could trim your hair," she teased, trying to brighten the mood. "Mum taught me how ages ago, I can set up the vanity chair in the bathroom and-"

"Rose Tyler, you are not touching my hair!" he exclaimed, hands flying up to protect his tresses as if she were about to lunge at him with a comb and clippers. "I've just finally figured out how to style it, I won't have you mucking it up."

Rose threw a pillow at the Doctor, which he dodged easily, allowing the frilly thing to continue sailing toward the vanity where it knocked a tube of lipstick to the floor.

"Oh shit," Rose gasped, mouthing falling open. "I forgot to ask - will anything we do in here mess up timelines going forward?"

"Yes," the Doctor replied solemnly. "I'm afraid all of space and time is collapsing in on itself as we speak because Rose Tyler knocked a tube of lipstick off her vanity."

The next pillow hit him square on the shoulder.

"I deserved that," the Doctor laughed, rubbing his hand over his neck.

"Is your neck alright?" Rose asked suddenly.

"Sorry?"

"It's just, you've been rubbing it all day," she explained. "Does it hurt or something?"

The Doctor dropped his hand and looked sheepish.

"Well earlier I was checking for clues under the sink in the bathroom," he said quickly as Rose crinkled her nose. "You'd be amazed what you can discover under someone's sink, Rose, I couldn't just let that stone go unturned! Anyway, I had to twist my neck, a bit, to fit it between the pipes and all the bottles you have under there - how can one person possibly need so many bottles?"

Rose laughed and rolled her eyes, choosing a large pillow from her bed and tossing it down to the floor beneath her perch on the bed.

"Come here."

The Doctor looked confused and didn't move.

"Come on, sit yourself down here," she said, pointing to the pillow. "I'll give you a neck rub - I'm famous for them!"

The Doctor hesitated for a moment before moving toward her, eyebrow quirked.

"Don't have any scissors hidden up my sleeves, promise," Rose laughed, holding up her hands. "Take your jacket off too so I can get your shoulders, if you like."

Rose watched gleefully as the Doctor removed his jacket - an action she didn't get to see as often as she'd like - and placed it neatly on the bed before turning and arranging himself on the pillow at her feet, sitting crossed-legged.

"Famous in what circles?" the Doctor asked as Rose parted her knees to make room for his broad shoulders, tugging gently on them so he knew to lean back against the bed frame.

"Hm?" she said distractedly, unable to resist rubbing her hands along his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric of his crisp white shirt.

"Your neck rubs, you said you were famous for them," he replied, enunciating each word playfully since she didn't seem to understand the first time. "Famous in what circles?

"Oh," Rose said, placing her fingers on either side of his neck and running her thumbs lightly against his skin. "Mum used to get neck aches all the time since she spent most of her days on her feet, so I'd give her massages after work sometimes. And there was Jimmy, and then Mickey - sometimes I think they liked my neck rubs more than-"

"Alright, I get the picture," the Doctor interjected, and Rose swore she could see the skin at the base of his neck turn a bit pink. "Why don't you put your money where your mouth is."

"Yes, sir," Rose giggled, pursing her lips to prevent any more delighted laughter from spilling forth. This was the first time she could remember that she had implicit permission to touch the Doctor, to run her hands over his skin away from his watchful eyes.

They held hands all the time and hugged a lot, sure, and the hugs did seem to be growing longer and longer, but Rose never had time to do anything more than run her palms over his back a few times before they broke away.

But now she had all of his neck and shoulders to work with and no time limits. Better yet - the goal of her touching him was to ease his muscles, to make him feel good. Rose couldn't help the flush that was slowly creeping along her cheeks as she realized how intimate this neck rub could be. She was glad, not for the first time, that he couldn't see her face in his position.

First things first - Rose dove her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck to gently push his head forward, giving her more room to work. She couldn't help but run her fingers a little higher, scratching against his scalp and reveling in the feeling of his soft hair shifting around her touch, before returning her hands to his neck.

Slowly, she began to knead along the center of his neck with her thumbs, pressing gently on the tight muscles lining his spine. Rose smiled as the Doctor let out a soft hum of appreciation.

"Your neck must be aching Doctor, the muscles are so tight," Rose said, to distract herself from the noise he made more than anything. "This is from more than just twisting your neck under the sink - I wonder if you clench your jaw when you sleep."

"Maybe," he mumbled, seemingly focused on the relief he felt from Rose's hands. She wondered if his eyes were opened or closed, if there was a smile on his lips. Perhaps not being able to see his face wasn't a good thing, after all.

Once the muscles on his neck felt less strained, Rose dragged her fingers down to the tops of his shoulders, halting when they reached the Doctor's starched collar.

"Um, Doctor," she started, but he was already loosening his tie and undoing the top couple buttons on his shirt, widening his collar so Rose could access his skin directly. She sucked in a breath before moving her fingers downward.

Trying not to think about what he must look like from the front - with his tie hanging loose around his neck and the collar of his shirt open, perhaps revealing the top of his chest - Rose began to move her fingers along the join of his neck and shoulders. The muscles here were even tighter and she had to lean into him with a good deal of pressure to begin breaking up the knots.

The Doctor groaned.

Rose couldn't help a small sigh escaping from her lips at the sound, knowing that her movements had elicited that reaction. His neck fell forward until his chin was resting against his chest, so Rose had even more skin to work with. She dug her thumbs into his muscles, moving outward along his shoulders until she reached the barrier of his shirt, then heading back toward his neck.

Once the knots had been broken up, Rose's hands fell into a familiar motion, kneading and rubbing the Doctor's shoulders. Unfortunately, with the difficult part out of the way, her mind began to wander.

She wanted him. Of course she did - she always had. But this neck rub, as innocently as it had started as a friendly gesture between mates, was igniting a fire Rose worked hard to keep at bay. Even their most tender hugs didn't involve much skin-on-skin contact, and now suddenly Rose was running her hands all over him and neither of them seemingly had any intent on her stopping.

It would be so easy to continue, to work her hands down his strong arms, to run them over his shoulders toward his chest, feeling his pectoral muscles beneath her fingertips. She could hop off the bed and settle on his lap, soothing his neck this time with her lips, feeling his hands on her back as the slid under her t-shirt and-

The Doctor groaned again.

Right. Rose decided she had to hit the emergency eject button before her imagination really ran away from her and she did something that might risk their friendship. She had a feeling he was interested in her, what with the long hugs and the little stolen glances she'd catch every once in a while, but she wasn't sure there was any intent behind that interest.

And if she only had a few months left with the Doctor, well, she didn't want her foolhardy boldness to make their remaining time together uncomfortable.

To lighten the mood before she ended the massage, Rose delivered a few swift karate-chopping strokes to the Doctor's shoulders with the sides of her hands until he laughed, voice rumbling in his chest under her assault.

"There!" she said, smoothing his shirt in one last lingering touch before crossing her arms to make sure her hands behaved. "You should be sorted for a while, now, I reckon."

The Doctor buttoned the top of his shirt and straightened his tie before standing, picking up the pillow he had been sitting on and tossing it back onto the bed.

"I feel like a new man," he said, beaming at her. "In a much more pleasant way than I usually do."

"New, new Doctor," Rose laughed, looking up at him shyly, crossing her legs her legs at the ankle now that the Doctor had stood up.

"You look a bit tense yourself, Rose," he said, eyeing her as she sat stiffly on the bed. "You know, in some parts of the universe I'm quite well known for my back massages too…"

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he trailed off, looking at her hesitantly. Rose couldn't help the smile blooming across her face.

"Oh yeah?" she asked. "'l'll be the judge of that."