Dull, grey light seeped through the curtains, and Rose wondered if the storm had passed. She listened for a few moments but heard only the soft sound of breathing behind her. The Doctor's body was curled around hers, his arm draped over her side. She rolled over so that she could see his face.

His expression was relaxed in sleep. She had never seen him look quite like this… But then she had never seen Him before yesterday. She slipped her hand inside his robe to rest her palm over his heart. The beat was steady and strong, and for this man, this slumbering human, it felt right.

His eyes opened slowly, and he gave her a languid smile. "Morning."

She smiled in return. "Mornin'."

"I slept," he said, eyes opening wider in mild surprise. He glanced at the clock, then added, "For seven hours. Do you think I'll do that every night?" Now his expression was slightly aghast.

"Dunno. But it's all right if you do. It's part of bein' human."

"Maybe I'll only need three-and-a-half hours," he mused, "since I'm only half."

"Maybe. We'll just have to wait an' see."

The phone rang, and Rose answered it to be reminded by Jackie that the helicopter would arrive in forty minutes. Rose got out of bed, wincing a bit as she put her sore knee into motion. The clothes had dried overnight, so she dressed in the bathroom then brought the Doctor's things out to him.

He was flipping rapidly through the channels on the television, his eyes moving quickly over each image.

"She'll leave him for his step-grandfather, who's only five years older than she is," the Doctor said as he spent all of three seconds on a serial. "No, no, it's the Byzantine empire, not the Ming Dynasty! Come on, everyone knows that!" he nearly shouted when a game show came onto the screen. The next channel showed the weather, and he commented, "Forty percent chance of rain? More like forty-six point eight. Can't they get these things right? With that dew point and the convection from the high pressure system, not to mention the Madden-Julian oscillation—wait, suppose they don't have that here, at least not by that name."

"Come on," Rose urged with a shake of her head, "get dressed. I could really use a coffee before we leave."

He tore his gaze away from the screen. "Oh, you're all ready to go."

"Just about. I'm gonna go see Mum. Meet you downstairs?"

"Yep." His eyes moved back to the screen.

"Doctor," she said rather firmly, "turn that off."

He gave her a slightly abashed look. "Oh. Right."

She was tempted to take the remote from him, but she decided against it. She did, however, wait until he switched off the T.V. before going downstairs.

He'd been in helicopters before, of course. Well, he had distinct memories of such rides, he conceded. But this seemed different. It was slightly more thrilling, and he paid close attention to all of the gauges, dials, and readings. It reminded him just a bit of the ship he'd taken while on Midnight. He shuddered at the recollection.

The pilot seemed slightly annoyed by his barrage of comments, questions, and offers to upgrade the equipment. The Doctor didn't quite understand why; he thought he was being friendly and helpful. He did love technology, even though this planet's gadgets were fairly primitive. Still, he could always find ways to improve upon them. Maybe he'd seek out a job in the tech sector. Might be fun, tinkering away with equipment, building a better mousetrap, as it were.

"All right?" Rose yelled, reaching forward to rest her hand over his arm.

"Oh yeah, fine!" he called back.

"You're havin' fun, aren't you?"

"Little bit, yeah."

"Wait'll you see the stuff we get at Torchwood. You'll love it!"

"Alien tech and all that," he finished.

She nodded and gave his arm a squeeze before leaning back to continue her talk with Jackie.

The Doctor looked out the window at the passing countryside. They were crossing the English Channel now; they'd be back in London, at Pete's estate, soon. And then his new life would begin. He took a few moments to consider the magnitude of this.

He would be with Rose; that was the most important thing. She had a flat and a good job, and she'd get him on at Torchwood, find something for him to do. He did like technology and science. Then again, maybe he should work as a professor, teaching and doing research. Surely this version of England had an Oxford or Cambridge or Newcastle. There was the small matter of his official qualifications, but he could figure out some way to deal with that. After all, even if he didn't have his psychic paper anymore, he was still brilliant.

He did enjoy teaching. Setting aside all the nasty business with The Family and the Krillitanes, he'd found instructing the students at Farringham and Deffry Vale surprisingly rewarding.

He pulled his thoughts back to the pilot, who was telling him about a new navigation system that would be available in a few months. The Doctor smiled; it was new for this world but archaic to him. Still, he listened politely, amused by the pilot's enthusiasm.

They landed behind the estate. Pete and a small boy ran out to greet them. Hugs and handshakes were offered while the child hid behind Jackie's leg.

"What's this then?" she asked him, taking his hand and gently urging him toward the Doctor. "You don't have to be afraid of 'im, Tony. This is the Doctor. Rose's told you all about him."

The Doctor crouched down and extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Tony," he said affably.

The boy reached for the proffered hand rather reticently, clearly still wary of the stranger. The tiny hand barely covered the Doctor's palm. After a brief, gentle squeeze, the Doctor ruffled Tony's hair.

The little boy smiled at the gesture, his shyness fading quickly in the face of the broad, sincere grin offered him.

Pete led them into the expansive house. Tony held his mother's hand, but he glanced back at the Doctor frequently, clearly enamored of his new friend.

"You're good with kids," Rose said as they walked arm in arm.

"Am I? I'd never really thought about it before."

"You were great with Chloe Webber," she reminded him.

That was an interesting piece of information. He remembered the stroking the girl's temple as she lay shuddering, struggling with the Isolus. He'd offered her some small comfort, hadn't he? He wasn't quite sure what to do with that memory, but he felt that it should mean something. However, Pete was asking him about the Daleks, so he left the topic to ponder at another time.

A massive breakfast had been laid out for the travelers. They ate and talked. As they were finishing, Rose spoke to Pete.

"The Doctor's gonna work with me at Torchwood. Can you get the paperwork together?"

Pete nodded. "Sure."

The Doctor swallowed his orange juice quickly. "Won't I need some sort of qualifications?"

"I'll take care of it," Pete responded.

"What'll my job be?"

"Scientific advisor, special investigator… we'll think of something," Pete said.

Rose smiled. "Thanks." She stood up and placed her hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "You ready to go home now?"

"Just one more piece of bacon?"

She rolled her eyes. "One. But you're gonna have to start takin' it easy on those. Only one heart now, remember?"

He put down the slice of bacon. "Right."

She nodded approvingly then kissed her mother, stepfather, and little brother good bye.

A driver took them into the city. Rose's townhouse was elegant but not ostentatious. It had a large living room and spacious kitchen, separate dining room that looked as though it have never been used, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms, one of which served as a home office.

"So," Rose said after she'd finished the tour, "s'pose we'll need to get you some clothes. You can't go around wearin' that suit day in an' day out."

"Worked for me before."

"Yeah, but I don't have a sonic refresher here. That'll have to go to the cleaners. Besides, you might not wanna wear a suit all the time."

He looked down at his attire, running his hands over his lapels. "I could probably use a new shirt," he conceded, removing his jacket.

"I'm gonna change," she said. "Been wearin' this way too long."

She walked off to her bedroom. He noticed that she was still limping a bit. It only took a bit of rummaging through her kitchen, guest bath, and hallway linen cabinet to find her first aid kit. It was surprisingly well stocked, but he supposed that working for Torchwood would tend to make one extra jeopardy friendly. Still, he hated to think of Rose being hurt in any way. At least now if she were, he'd be here to take care of her.

She'd closed her door half-way. He tapped lightly on the thick, polished wood. "May I come in?"

"You need something?"

He poked his head around the door. Rose was just pulling a pale blue jumper over her head. Her legs were bare; she wore lightly patterned, pastel pink panties. She turned around.

"Just wanted to change your bandage," he said, pointing at her knee.

"Oh. All right."

She sat down on the edge of the bed, and he knelt on the floor before her. He removed the bandage then dabbed antiseptic over the wound. The edges were reddening, so he was glad that he'd thought to have another look at it.

"We might need to start you on a course of antibiotics," he told her, "just as a precaution. I'll keep an eye on this and see how it looks this evening."

He was bent over her knee, attention fixed upon the wound, but he still felt her hand move through his hair. He looked up at her.

She smiled.

"What?" he asked.

"You. You look… I dunno. Content."

"I am."

"An' why's that?"

"I'm here with you, and I know you're safe."

A feeling washed over him, and again he recalled Chloe Webber and the momentary warmth that had filled him as he'd provided her with those few moments of comfort amid the internal storm she was fighting. He taped a clean bandage over her knee then sat beside Rose on the bed.

"Rose," he began, unsure of how to speak the words that would surely disappoint her.

"Hmm?"

"Would you mind…" He paused, changing his tack. Sometimes it was best to just spit out what needed to be said. "I don't think I want to work for Torchwood."

She appeared a bit surprised. "Why not?"

"It's not that I don't want to work with you; I'd love that. But I think I have a pretty good idea of what Torchwood's about. And after what we've just been through, after all the destruction and death, I don't think I can be involved in that any more, at least not right now."

She took his hand. Her eyes were bright and sharp. "An' what is it that you want to do?"

"To help, to put things back together instead of destroying them, to make things right… To heal the wounds." He glanced down at her knee again.

"You mean literally?"

He nodded. "I think so."

She smiled. "Well, that'll solve the problem of your name."

"Might need to come up with a last name, though. I should probably be Doctor Somebody or Other."

"I'm sure we can think of something."

"Thing is, I haven't got qualifications that I can prove."

"Pete'll take care of it."

"You sure? Even if I'm not working for Torchwood?"

"It won't be a problem. I think he'll be glad to know you're doin' something good."

"And you don't mind? We'll see each other at night, and on the weekends if you aren't working."

She leaned forward to deliver a soft kiss to his lips before enveloping him in a hug. "I think it's brilliant. My Doctor."

He was. At last, he was.

The End