I woke to the smell of bacon, which caused my stomach to growl. But no matter how good it smelled, it put me on edge. Was he cooking?

I threw on a robe, since I barely slept in anything the night before, and then went into the kitchen.

Sure enough, the Doctor was standing with his back to me, gaze intent on the frying pan.

"Mornin'," I greeted warily. "Whatcha makin'?"

He jumped a bit, and I had to stifle a laugh.

"Good morning! I, uh, thought some bacon and eggs would be a good way to start off the day."

I raised my had to my mouth, absently biting my thumb nail.

"Have ya ever even cooked before?"

"Of course!" He scoffed, turning away from me. "Well…he has at least."

I felt a pang in my chest. Even he was confused about all this. Here I was feeling sorry for myself when he was somebody else entirely. He had someone else's memories, feelings…

"Do ya want some help?" I offered, still maintaining my distance.

"No, no. I'm fine. Thanks."

Unsure what to say next, I wandered out of the room. He's need some new clothes, that's for sure, and a couple other necessary items. We'd have to tend to that immediately.

"Rose!"

I rushed into the kitchen when he called, fearful that he'd set something on fire or broken a plate or two.

"Bacon and eggs, over-easy, and some toast!"

The table was set, and admittedly, it looked lovely. He had gone out of his way to make a good first impression (if you could consider it that).

"Wow," I smiled. "Looks great."

I took my seat across from him, very aware of how closely he was watching me.

I raised my fork, but before I took a bite, I looked up at him and asked, "How was your sleep last night?"

"Great, great. Yours?"

I hesitated. Should I tell him about the constant nightmares I'd had? I would have told the Doctor in an instant but…

"Yeah. Fine." I bluffed.

I bowed my head and began to eat, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see him doing the same. Then he raised his eyebrows, cleared his throat, and pointed his fork at me accusingly. "Remember the Sycorax? You tried to talk your way out of that one, too. You're a rubbish liar, Rose Tyler."

I sighed. Maybe he was more like him than I thought.

"I have bad dreams. Every night. That you—" I stopped to correct myself. "That he's in danger. And I can't do a flippin' thing about it." A lump formed in my throat. I tried not to dwell on the dreams for this reason. "'Scuse me. I'm jus' gonna get ready. I'm—I'm not feelin' too well. Thanks for breakfast."

The look of confusion on his face made me feel a little bit bad, but I didn't want him to see me like this.

….

By mid-afternoon I found myself lounging on the couch in front of the telly. I wasn't even watching—just staring at the screen.

"Mind if I join you?"

I was brought back to reality by the sound of his voice.

"Oh, no. Go ahead. I dunno what I'm watchin'."

"I'm not so sure I trust telly anymore." He mused.

I knew what he was referring to, and I just wanted to ignore it, but to be polite, I responded. "Yeah, but you fixed that all up, didn't ya?"

"What is this? Ugh!" He cringed. "This," he pointed a finger at the screen, "is the biggest pile of rubbish I've ever seen."

"It's Star Wars," I told him, cracking an amused grin.

We watched for a bit longer, all the while picking the sci-fi film apart.

During a commercial (which I muted), we turned to each other simultaneously.

"Rose—"

"Hey—I"

We both stopped and laughed nervously.

"You can go firs'." I said, but he shook his head.

"No, no. You go."

"I was wonderin' if you wanted to go shoppin' later. You'll need some clothes."

"Ah. Right, right. Yes, we should do that…"

"And what were you gonna say?"

"Oh, well…it's not important."

"Go on!" I smirked, bumping his arm with his shoulder. He had a faint blush on his freckled cheeks.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to go out tonight. A date. Fish and chips. But now that we're going shopping…"

"We have time for both." I whispered, taken aback but finding his hesitancy endearing.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Come on! You're like him. You have to have inherited his smugness. Stop pretending to be humble. You knew I'd say yes."

"Well…" He put his hand on the back of his neck and raised his eyebrows. "I've still got it, haven't I?"