Author's Note: A real time crunch lately has prevented me from responding me to feedback, but it remains much appreciated! This chapter should have been released much earlier as well, but I had to make sure it flowed into the next chapter I was writing. Sorry about its length—there was an epic struggle over how long and "talky" this chapter is but I think the end of the chapter makes up for it. After this installment, more humour and adventure comes up. Thanks for your patience.

Still so young to travel so
Old enough to know you are
Wise enough to carry the scars
Without any blame, there's no one to blame
It's easy to forget what you've learned
Waiting for the thrill to return
Feeling your desire burn
As you're drawn to the flame...Crowded House, "Distant Sun"

Part Time Lord

Scotland was cold. And windy. Rose did not know why she didn't expect that, it being the beginning of summer, and that was one flaw to their evening, though the Inner Hebrides truly was beautiful in the evening light.

"It feels like I need to be standing here with a claymore and in a kilt," said the Doctor.

"I wouldn't mind the kilt," said Rose.

The Doctor flashed her a grin, and that made the whole journey worthwhile. Landing and anchoring the zeppelin had been a bit of a nightmare in this place.

She hugged close to the Doctor for warmth as they sat on a blanket on a cliff overlooking the dramatic coastline of north west Scotland. She hadn't been here before, though she'd always wanted to come, and it seemed a good time to do so. It wasn't, perhaps, the strangest or most impressive landscape the two had seen together, but it was lovely and a good excuse to keep near him.

"I wish you still had your long coat," she said lightly.

He smiled. "Me too. Though we had to let the other me keep some things, I suppose."

"Will you miss it?" It was the question she'd been dying to ask him since the TARDIS had left them in this universe.

"The coat? I can get a new one, you know."

"No, the life you had. Travelling time and space. Going anywhere you wanted. Not staying in any place."

He looked at her, and she saw she had his full attention. "Are you worried about that?" he asked, his brown eyes serious.

"Of course I am. That was, you know, your thing."

"I've learned some things, Rose. That life was never much fun, alone. That's why sooner or later I always took on a companion. Even if they couldn't stay."

"All right... but once you had that company... all that travelling... we never stayed anywhere very long."

"Did you want to?"

"Well, not really... there seemed to be so much out there."

"Do you miss that life? Tell me, Rose."

She thought about it, even though she had mulled over it so many times before. "I missed you more than I missed that life," she said in all honesty. "But travelling seemed part of you, part of the TARDIS, and it was fun."

She looked out towards the sea, where the sun hid behind gold and rose-coloured clouds. "Doctor, I walked through so many universes, went to so many worlds, trying to find you. I travelled... very far. Saw many things. But none of it mean anything. They weren't you. They weren't where you were."

His hands reached for hers. They were warmer than hers, an unusual sensation, and he wrapped them around her fingers protectively. She could get used to the warmth.

"You walked universes for me," he said. "No one's done that for me before."

"Yeah?" It was getting hard to see him in the disappearing light.

"What were you going to do when you found me? Why did you go through all that?"

"Well," said Rose. "We were going to save the universe. The universes, I mean."

The sun had disappeared, and only the glow of dusk still hugged the horizon.

"And then? What, after that?"

"And then, I was planning to ask if you wanted me back with you, to travel with."

"I would have said yes."

She had hoped for that. It was why she had tried to wrap all loose ends here in this universe, never establishing any lasting connections, expecting to leave this universe forever, any day. She had tried to make herself expendable here.

"It wouldn't have been about the travelling though," she said, not wanting him to misunderstand. "I just wanted to be with you. I said forever, didn't I?"

He squeezed her hand. "I remember. But it's not a promise you were expected to keep, Rose."

"I meant to," said Rose. "I was going to find a way." And I may still do that, she added silently. She didn't know why, but his lack of faith in her, as she saw it, stung a little. Though she also had to admit, if she hadn't gone back to the other universe and found him, he might not have gotten shot by the Dalek and been forced to almost-regenerate.

"Did I do wrong, coming back?" she asked. The truth could hurt, but she needed to know. "You got hurt. Maybe if I had just... passed Donna the message and left it at that—"

"Don't," said the Doctor.

She stopped. "Don't what?" She could no longer see him in the darkness. Just a silhouette against the faint stars only starting to appear in the sky.

"Don't think that. Don't say that."

She quieted.

He broke the silence a long moment later.

"I've botched this, Rose. Badly. Wait," he said as she started to protest. "Me, time lord. Bad at this. Botched it. I told you this gob wasn't good at saying things that actually need saying. Rose..." He tightened his hands around hers, and pulled her to him. She resisted at first, for no reason she could explain, but he didn't give up, and moved closer to envelope her in a crushing hug, burying his face in her hair. She held him and laid her head against his. It helped a little against the cold.

He spoke again, raising his head a little so his lips were beside her ear. "This. Being here, with you. Some days..." She felt a shudder run through his body, but then he continued. "Some days, I just wanted to break the walls down to get you back."

Tears spilled down Rose face before she could deny them. "I didn't know," she said.

"I couldn't tell you. I didn't tell you. And even when I could have...I really botched it, royally. You can confirm."

"Yeah," Rose laughed bitterly, "I can."

"I'm glad you came back for me. You were brilliant. And it's...it's my fault that that question was even necessary for you to ask."

He tightened his arms around her. It was making it hard for her to breathe but she didn't care. It was a pleasurable pain, one that she would not have given up for the world. He was here with her, and had given her an answer she needed to hear.

"I don't want to make any more mistakes," said the Doctor.

A small laugh managed to escape her. "Fine time to decide that," she said, "now that you're part human. You're going to err. It comes with the package."

"Then I'm just going to hold out as long as possible," he said with conviction.

"You are?"

"Yep."

"How are you going to do that?" she asked, smiling.

"Well... first, I'm going to bundle you up out of this cold and get us back into that airship we left around here..."

That sounded really good. "Then?"

"Then we look for some place to have dinner."

"And then?"

"Then we could look for some place to stay the night, if you'd like that."

"Some place warm," she said.

"Some place warm," he repeated. "Is that a good plan for now?"

"I think so." She didn't know what they would do tomorrow, but tomorrow could take care of itself.

"Good." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips. In the near-darkness, the kiss lingered and seemed to carry an unspoken promise. She wondered.

They got up, picked up the blanket after them, and returned to the zeppelin.

They found a pub in a small village, not too far away, and anchored the zeppelin in a field near it. The staff at the pub seemed used to drop-in visitors from out of town. Rose and the Doctor also learned that the farmhouse next door had been converted into an inn. At the pub, Rose barely managed to discourage the Doctor from attempting the haggis, but he did try a local scotch whiskey, and stopped when he said it made him feel strange. That was the point, she had assured him. He had shaken his head. "I need my wits about me" he'd replied, then said nothing else. They walked over to the inn after dinner.

"I don't suppose you still have your psychic paper," Rose said as they were alone outside, between the buildings.

"Have we run out of money? Do we need to pass as inspectors?"

"It isn't the money," said Rose. "It's me."

"You?"

"My father's a bit of a celebrity in this universe. It makes things tricky sometimes. Tabloids."

"Oh," he said. "Aurgh," as the realization hit him.

They reached the door to the inn. It was lit on the outside only by a single antique gas lamp fitted with an light bulb.

"Here we go," said Rose as she pushed the door open. They entered a small room that was dimly lit. There was a counter behind which was a small doorway leading to a small room where a television set was playing. Rose dinged the bell on the counter. It wasn't long before a distracted old man emerged to make a carbon impression of Rose's credit card and pass them a key.

"Upstairs, second door on your left. Please check out before 11am unless you're staying another night." He returned quickly to his television program.

"Right, thank you." Rose took the Doctor's hand and led him up the stairs.

"That didn't seem so bad," whispered the Doctor as they ascended the creaky wooden steps. The building seemed over a hundred years old.

"Let's hope," said Rose simply. "I'd give it a day or so."

"We'll have to behave then, I suppose?" the Doctor asked with a grin. "No more drunken parties, and flashing people from inside limousines?"

"How will we live?" said Rose with mock despair. She took a left after the stairs and walked down the hallway, pulling him along. "Here we are." She struggled with the key in the antique lock for a little while before opening the door and turning on the light. It revealed a small room with a peeling laminate double bed and pea-green wallpaper with swirling geometric shapes that must have come from the 60s. There were even macramé hangings on the wall. An antique television set graced a small table made of woven cane and rattan. The former would have been more at home in an antique store; the latter, in a different latitude and decade. "Oh my god," said Rose, before she burst into giggles.

"What?" said the Doctor.

A thought struck Rose that made her laugh even harder at the situation. She flopped onto the bed (the pattern on the bedspread was a garish meeting of pastel flowers and Jackson Pollock), conscious of the Doctor closing the door and then regarding her in bewilderment.

"Rose?"

She tried to stop giggling, failed, tried again. "I think... I was going to say..." she giggled one more time. "I think we've travelled back in time." She waved her hand at the room's décor.

An answering giggle slipped out of the Doctor before he recovered, considerably more quickly than Rose did. "Funny," he said. He sat down on the bed beside her as she tried to bury the last giggle. "I guess it's going to be like this from now on? Visiting old inns and Renaissance fairs and the Epcot Center..."

"Oh god, no," said Rose in horror, clutching at his hands.

The Doctor grinned. He leaned back on the bed till he was level with her, and their faces just inches apart.

"This place warm enough for you, then?" he asked.

She had almost forgotten all about that. Dinner and being indoors had gone a long way in making the Scottish night-time more tolerable. "Yes," she said.

"I'm prepared to do more to keep you warm, if you want."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Is that a come-on, Doctor?"

"I'll only say if you tell me it's working."

Rose chuckled and touched the Doctor's cheek with her hand. His skin was slightly rough now with five-o'clock shadow—something new to her, and quite possibly part and parcel of his new human-ness. "This might take me a little while to get used to," Rose admitted.

"What?"

"You flirting," said Rose. All the time she'd known him from before, he'd always run from intimacy. These words from his mouth were new and a little strange to her. And earlier that afternoon, things had certainly progressed much faster to a certain stage than she'd dared to expect, although she had been nursing that desire for him for years...she couldn't be expected to behave herself after all that time apart.

"I'm really very old, you know," the Doctor said.

"And yet, in another way, you're, what, a day old?"

"Is this all too strange for you then?" There was a bit of worry in his voice.

"This is you, Doctor," she said. "Strange. You wouldn't be you if you weren't." That was true.

He sat up. Rose had to crane her head a little to keep her eyes on him. His face was sober, all flirting gone. "Is that fine with you?"

Rose frowned and leaned up on her elbow to be closer to him. "It's always been, Doctor."

"I thought about something I could give to you."

That was a bit of a surprise, and seemed to come out of nowhere. He had her full attention now, and she sat up to face him.

"Although," the Doctor said uncertainly, "It's a time lord thing. I don't even know if it's something I can do any more."

"What is it?"

His brown eyes were fixed on hers. "I could show you a memory. A memory of mine, I mean."

"If it's something you want to do," Rose said carefully.

"I do," he said. "Since I don't seem to be very good at saying the important things..."

The Doctor took her hands in his and placed them on his heart. Rose's fingers touched his chest, felt the hardness of his ribs and the thump of the heart beneath them. The Doctor then placed his fingers on her temples. "I don't know if this will work," he said softly. "If it does, then you have to trust me."

"Okay," she said. He seemed a little taken aback by how quickly she said it, but she didn't care. His face took on a look of concentration, and Rose felt a new awareness suddenly pervading her mind, as if a new sense or a new door was opening in it. Her consciousness moved toward it, and she heard his voice in her head even though his lips never moved.

It's working. Do you trust me? he asked again.

"I do," said Rose.

Then come with me.

Through the open door, she stepped into his mind.

"Some days, I just wanted to break the walls down to get you back..."

He almost wanted to whoop in relief as he realised he could touch her mind with his own. There were definitely advantages to being a time lord, some he suspected he would no longer miss (like not growing old) and some, like this one, that could be useful. He wondered for a short moment, though, if it could be counted as cheating.

Cheating? asked Rose, in his head.

This is a time lord trick, he thought at her. Not human.

He gave her time to get used to the mental connection between them, watched silently as she distinguished between her own consciousness and his, in this space that occupied no space at all. It gave him a bit of pride that her confusion was minimal.

This does remind me of the time Cassandra was in my head. Except I guess I'm in your head now.

Yes, something like that. But not completely the same. You're still connected to your own body. Can you feel it?

Rose paused before she answered. Yes.

Good. Keeping his fingers on Rose's temples, the Doctor touched his palms to the sides of her face. The physical sensations still being received by her body would help orientate her. At any time this gets bad for you, you can break this link off and go back.

Why would I want to? she asked.

He didn't answer. He reached for a memory.

"Some days, I just wanted to break the walls down to get you back..."

He opened another door for her, in his mind. This one to the memory of a moment—the moment the walls between universes had been closed after the Battle of Canary Wharf, the moment of the wonderful/terrible realization that Rose was in the next universe (saved from the Void at the last moment by Pete Tyler), and there was no way to get her back without destroying the both of them. Even after all that time, his consciousness now winced at the memory—the horrifying emptiness and loss of realising she was gone. It felt like the Void had entered his hearts.

I felt the same way, Rose said.

Let me show you another time. He opened another door. This one was to his memory of one of the worst days in her life, the first goodbye at Bad Wolf Bay. Rose recoiled.

I do not wish to visit this again, she said.

He understood. It was one of the worst days of my life too.

They did not stay. The Doctor opened yet another door.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" said Donna, as they stood outside the TARDIS on a deserted street on the stolen earth.

This time Rose was silent as she watched herself and the memory from the Doctor's eyes, the moment of their last reunion. The disbelief and flaring of hope, relief and love in the Doctor's hearts. All the world had gone away except for her, the sight of her, glowing like the sun, the only source of light on a planet whose skies had gone dark. The exhilaration of being in the same universe with her again, closing the distance between them, barely aware he was running, until she had slowed down and her eyes had shifted to the Dalek behind him.

That was one of my happiest moments, he shared with her, until the last bit where I got shot, of course. I never thought I'd see you again. I don't regret that, any of it.

He caught his breath after another thought struck him like a bolt from the blue. With it, a wave of realisation and self-hatred hit the Doctor. He drew his hands back, breaking physical and mental contact with Rose. He'd been such a fool. The walls...

"I separated us," he said, the words falling from numb lips.

What was it some sage from Earth had said? An old wise man from India had put into words what several philosophers from several worlds had long believed: Our thoughts create reality. The implications of that for the Doctor, of all people, were enormous. And he couldn't bear it if Rose knew just how stupid he was, and how long it'd taken for him to realise...

"What?" said Rose.

"No...n-nothing," he said.

"What?" Rose asked again.

The walls that had kept them apart. He'd set them up. He'd put them there. Even the Daleks had seen, when he was in the body with the blue eyes and the dumb ears, the body in which he'd first met Rose—even the Daleks on the GameStation had seen that he'd loved her then. But he'd been too damn busy denying it, running away, or sending her away, putting up walls, mental walls, walls of space, walls of time, walls between universes. They had begun in his mind, the same mind the TARDIS had always been linked to, and the TARDIS re-created the universe around them whenever they travelled. The Doctor and the TARDIS had always been linked, always... even as he'd loved Rose more and more, he'd run farther and further away, going so far as to almost trap himself with another woman in 18th Century France. He shouldn't have been surprised that after that, the TARDIS had dumped them in the other universe, and planted the seeds for trapping Rose there later, keeping them apart. The walls between them had been placed first by his mind. Then the universes and the TARDIS had taken his cue.

"Doctor? Doctor," Rose was holding his shoulders, peering at his face with concern.

"I'm so sorry," he told her.

"What?" she said, yet again.

"Everything I've done," he said. "Everything that's happened. It was me." Davros had been right. He'd destroyed so much... created weapons and walls, managed to hurt even those he had not wanted to hurt. And for the first time, he was glad he no longer had the TARDIS. And who knew what the other him was now wrecking in the other universe with it...

"I don't understand," said Rose.

He looked at her with a plea in his eyes. "I don't want you to," he said.

But this was no longer the girl he knew. This Rose was older, stronger, even more wilful now than before. She has so much strength, he found himself thinking as she took his face in her hands and gazed into his eyes. He couldn't tear himself away from the look in hers—there was love, acceptance, and command in there all at once. Universes were contained within. Why should he have been surprised? She'd taken the whole Vortex in there, once, and survived.

"Do you trust me?" she asked him, in the same words and tone of voice he'd used just a short while ago. Donna Noble had told him, after her brush with the parallel world, that Rose had seemed a lot like him. He hadn't understood at the time, but was beginning to, now.

"I do," he said.

"Then tell me. Or show me. It will be fine."

"No. Okay," he said helplessly.

"You said something about the walls?"

"I made them," he whispered. When she looked at him in incomprehension, he touched her temple and re-established the mind-link. He showed her his realisation, his previous connection with the TARDIS, and how too often the TARDIS had brought them to places unexpected, so many of them trying to tear them apart. His fault, all his. Mea culpa. I'm so sorry.

There was no response from her.

"I caused it, Rose," he said, worried about her silence. "Our time apart. I made that happen. And so many other things."

"No," she said. No. You can't have caused all of it.

But I did.

One side of Rose's mouth picked up in a smile. "Are you telling me the universe revolves around you?"

"It just may, you know."

Doctor. She was managing to keep up with him, this conversation both inside and external. To the Doctor's disbelief, forgiveness flowed from her mind to his. She kissed his lips, then looked at him calmly. "If the universe, if all the universes do revolve around you, then us finding each other again was all your doing as well," she said. "And I can't let you take all the credit." There was mock irritation in her voice that found its edge in the truth of her words.

The Doctor gazed at her, dumbfounded. His hubris was appropriately chastised by her logic.

"We're here now," she continued. "That's all that matters. That's all. I travelled so far to find you." And I just don't want to be apart again, not so long as you still want me with you. She lowered her hands from his face as he continued to look at her, astonished.

"Are we all right?" she asked. "You're quiet."

"I'm the lucky one..." He still had his fingers on her temple. Gently, lightly, he ran his index finger down her cheek. She caught his hand in hers as he reached her chin.

"You said the words," she said slowly. "The other you... he didn't."

He looked into her eyes. The sadness within took his breath away. He did not know if he could ever hope to heal that hurt. Yet it amazed him how calm she was, how she carried that burden without breaking.

"He made his choice. You made your choice," she continued, stating the facts. "And then I made mine."

Yes, she could still astonish him. He didn't need the TARDIS. All he needed, and wanted, was her.

"Words from the wise," he whispered.

"It comes from growing older, I think," said Rose. "And that's why I have a lot of hope for us." She was smiling at him.

"Rose." Trembling, he cradled her face and touched his lips to hers. Rose, he called her name. His one, single heart felt so full. He didn't need a second. Stay here with me, he asked her.

I'm here. Her mouth was exploring his even as their minds touched again, sealed by their physical contact. It was just as well. Her tongue was occupied gently stroking and playing against his. Slowly he moved his hands down her body to pull her body against him. Through the mind link, he let her feel his desire, slowly building under the surface, waiting for her assent before he would act upon it. He felt her complete acquiescence that came without hesitation.

I trust you, she said.

Fire flared inside him. He had no idea what he'd done to earn that trust from her—there had been some adventures they'd had where they barely survived. He'd broken her heart, but her love never waned—he could feel it even now, and it amazed him. He kissed her fiercely, wanting no barriers, no walls between them. The feeling scared him, but fazed her not at all. Reading his mind, her fingers were already busy freeing them from their clothing. Cold air met his skin as she removed his jacket, tie and shirt. He helped her remove her jacket, and was impatient even as they had to stop kissing for a short while so she could lift her stretchy cotton tunic over her head and remove her bra. Her hair fell around her. He buried his hands in the golden strands as he pulled her to him hungrily. Rose. He captured her mouth with his again even though he was breathless. Rose.

My Doctor, she whispered. There was no mistaking the two words she just said, my Doctor, and he thought his heart would burst. Growling, he buried his face in her hair, against her neck. He bit his lip against the tears that threatened to come. Through the mind link, she saw what those words meant to him. As she prepared to say them again, he bit her, firmly but not painfully, on the shoulder. Use those words carefully, Rose... if you say them again right now, I don't know what I'll do. Through the mind link, she saw a man she knew and yet didn't know struggling with desperation, relief and passion all at the same time. She saw a man afraid of losing all control, and became silent for the moment.

Lifting his head from her shoulder, the Doctor gazed at her wordlessly. With his forehead pressed to hers, he lowered her down against the pillows on the bed. He ran his hand down her body to her waist, to where her slacks covered her belly just under her navel. The pants unhooked and unzipped easily (thankfully), and with her help, he soon had them and her knickers stripped away from her smooth legs, and she kicked her shoes away obligingly as well. His shoes, pants and briefs joined her clothing on the floor before too long. Her body glowed like pale gold in the room's dim light. Lying down beside her, he ached to possess her, but kissed her slowly, starting from the top of her head, next planting a kiss on her lips, then her collar bone, and her breasts. As he reached her hips, he could not resist licking and nibbling her hip bone. Her hands were around his neck and shoulders; they tightened in his hair as he slipped lower down her body. He ran one hand lightly down her thigh (her skin like silk) before reversing its movement. Gently he coaxed her legs apart. The scent of her sex and her arousal, and the wetness between her legs that greeted his fingers only made him more hard. But he was still determined to explore.

He heard her draw a deep, shaky breath as he moved his fingers toward her clit. It was slippery with her arousal, and as he brushed his thumb against it, a jolt of pleasure ran through them both. Ah, the mind link. Things may get interesting, he thought at her. And then he was amused as he got the impression that it was Rose now who could not form coherent thought. How interesting? came her belated reply. In answer, he licked at her centre and was rewarded with a small moan. Using both her physical and mental responses as a guide, he licked and sucked at her, tasting sweetness and muskiness. At her wordless coaxing he slipped two fingers into her as well. Her hot flesh gripped his fingers, and he noted that some walls inside her seemed more sensitive. Concentrating on those with his fingers pressed against them, he worked his tongue more furiously over her clit. It wasn't long before a cry escaped her at the same time her whole body seemed to tighten around his fingers. This time a wave of pleasure crashed over them, and stole the Doctor's breath away. Recovering, then probing through the mind link, he would have been alarmed to find Rose's consciousness missing, except she was right here with him, panting, and he got the funny mental and physical impression that her body was currently a puddle of happiness.

Lifting himself from between her legs, he moved to lie beside her on the bed again, his head on the pillow beside her. Carefully, he cradled her in his arms, his erection pressing gently against her hip as he gave her time to recover. Through their mental connection, he could tell when she could form thoughts again. Well, more or less. It wasn't long before Rose was rolling onto her side to face him and plant wet, grateful kisses on his neck. "You..." she mumbled against his skin. "What about you?" She ran her hands over him, then wrapped around his cock and stroked him. The Doctor closed his eyes at the sensation. He opened them again when he felt Rose wrapping one leg around him and rubbing the the tip of him against her there.

"You... Inside me. Now," she breathed. Doctor. My Doctor.

The Doctor growled as he grabbed Rose and pinned her back against the bed with his body. She moved with him, not fighting at all as he positioned himself at her entrance. Her legs lifted to wrap around him—he did not know if she was reading his mind or if they were already in synch. The push to be inside her was exquisite—she was wet, but tight after her climax, and accepted his entry slowly but surely. Low moans escaped both their throats as they were joined. The Doctor rested his elbows at the side of her head and panted against her ear. "I told you to use those words carefully," he said.

Oh I did. And I am.

He groaned and started moving inside her. Her body was warm and giving and deliciously clingy around his. Her hands were on his waist, pulling him to her whenever he pushed. He gritted his teeth against the pleasure, disbelief even now at how her body fit his like a glove, and every move he made had an answering move from her to take him deeper. Every stroke of his sent a shiver through them both. She turned her lips to his ear... but he was no longer aware if the words she said were out loud or through their connection, my love, my Doctor... and when he answered the words that spilled from him were in her language and in Gallifreyan. Through the mind link, she understood them all. His muscles seemed no longer under his control; every sense of his was consumed with sensation and his climb toward release. Harder and faster he pushed inside her, his limbs and hips moving of their own volition. She moaned and gasped, but all he could feel through their mind link was bliss heightened by the pain of their separation before. Never again, he promised her, he wanted to be joined to her like this forever, and she clung to him just as desperately as their bodies moved together, as inexorably and powerfully as the tide. The pleasure built inside of him until he knew he could no longer hold back his release. And as he approached the edge, he pulled her mind into his—he came, and shared with her the pain/pleasure of dissolving into nothingness and ecstasy, senses too full to analyse it all, completely overwhelmed until they were dissolved and empty and he could no longer tell where he ended and she began.

Before they fell asleep, their bodies burdened with pleasant tiredness, he whispered goodnight to her as he felt her mind slipping into dreams of faraway worlds. She whispered back a name she'd picked up from his mind while they were joined, startling an incredulous laugh from him before he fell into dream as well.

Good night, 'Mr Pencil'.

It was her mother's new nickname for him from that morning.