Pete ranted and raved about the move out, but it went smoothly in the end—he had the place checked out, the neighbourhood, and even haggled the price down, putting the first six months rent down for them. He spoiled Rose further by paying for internet and cable. She drew the line at offering to go shopping with her. That was something she needed, and wanted, to do on her own.

"I'm home!" she called. "Doctor?"

"In here!" His voice echoed through their empty quota of space.

"I've got some food for the next few days, but we sorta need everything else, you know?"

Turning as she entered the room, he grinned at her, sitting in the middle of a pile of metal scraps in the giant empty room. "'ello!"

Rose made a face. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, well, we rather are on Earth, aren't we… Oh well—Upgrades!" His face was lit up like a child's with a new toy. He held up an object resembling a pen. "It's the sonic screwdriver 2.0! It has more settings—remember the setting for concrete? Well now it does concrete (of any thickness), asphalt, plastic, brick, steel, glass, linoleum—"

"Linoleum?" Rose interrupted skeptically. "What for? Why would you need to use the sonic screwdriver on linoleum?"

He grinned in response. "Who knows! But it might come in handy some day, and linoleum is such a good word—linoleum! Linoleum, linoleum…"

Rose rolled her eyes, but couldn't help grinning. "A'right, a'right. What else?"

"Of course you can see its sleek new design, and! It's quieter!" He flicked it on, and the trademark scree-ing of the sonic device was indeed greatly muted.

"That's great! Where'd you get all this stuff to make it though? I didn't think you'd be able to find what you needed on Earth to make a new one… It looks right snazzy though," she said, leaning against his shoulder as she knelt next to him.

"Oh… Bits of this and that," he said breezily. "But it'll be great! I've also increased the variety of platforms in can access so it includes a greater array of uses!"

"Doctor…" Rose began, her voice light with amusement. "Have you been filching stuff from the Torchwood archives! No! You have, haven't you! Go on, you have!" She laughed as he had the sense to turn away, slightly abashed.

"Well, I wouldn't say filched—it's more like screening. Yes. I've been screening what's been catalogued, because really, not everything is safe for the humans to handle. I mean, there are some things they shouldn't—not handle, but some things that aren't good—right—proper—safe—proper? That aren't proper for them to handle—well, they aren't ready to handle them yet."

Rose laughed again, eliciting a grin from the man next to her. "Relax. I'm not going to tattle."

"Oh good." He adopted a stern demeanour. "Because otherwise I'd have to take the strictest of action… Now what was it you wanted to say?"

"Hm?"

"When you came in. You'd been about to say something."

"Ooh! Yeah." She stood. "Come on, you. We need to buy furniture. Dad insisted on giving me some spending money since I wouldn't let him go shopping with me. And since he's paid for most everything else, I've still got plenty in the bank for whatever else we need. Come on. Let's go."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. When else?"

The Doctor blinked. "Right,… well… Um. Okay."

Hoisting her purse back up onto her shoulder, Rose gave him a look. "Well, if you don't want to go, I'll pick everything out myself."

"No! No. I mean, no. No, that's fine. I just… Alright!" He pulled his limbs together, standing. "Allons-y!"

Shopping for furniture, it turned out, was a whole different type of experience that required an intense level of attention and observation, compare, contrast, and memory, as well as a few other facets the Doctor hadn't been aware of before this.

"Ugh…" He groaned softly as they entered the fourth store. "This is a whole new level of domesticity. Me! Shopping for furniture…!"

"Look, if you're not interested, then I'll do it myself!" Rose exclaimed, whirling to face him with a glare. "And you'll be happy with whatever I get, yeah?" She stalked off towards the shop girl who greeted her, all smiles.

"No… No, I'm not… Rose…" He sighed tiredly and followed after her, giving the girl a smile and his hand. "Hi… I'm with her. John Smith."

"Hello, Mr. Smith!" The woman gave him an overly large smile the Doctor was sure was meant to be appealing. Instead, it just showed too many teeth and too much gums. He winced. "So you're looking for furniture…? Let's start with beds, yes? Please follow me…"

Rose gave her head a toss, sending him another less-than-pleased eye-brow raise before turning on her heel and following the shop girl.

For the Doctor, who hadn't always experienced time linearly, the monotony of domestic life was almost smothering. He ran frequently now, partly for his pride—both to be able to keep up with Rose when they ran together, and also to keep his waist trim—but also to work off the extra energy he had. Staying in one place was making him stir-crazy. His mind conforming to deal with the simpler tasks of everyday life as opposed to solving the universe's problems left him with extra energy that running helped compensate for, making him physically weary enough to have a decent night's sleep. And the idea of a mortgage still gave him theoretical nightmares. Luckily, they hadn't graduated to that; renting out the flat worked well enough for their needs.

Other needs, however…

As soon as their furniture arrived, Rose and the Doctor agreed, though somewhat hesitantly on her part, to share the king-sized bed they'd purchased.

The first night, neither slept well, going to work that morning with bleary eyes, dark circles underneath. Rose had fallen asleep some-what fitfully, nervous to have the man she loved finally lying next to her in her bed, even if they were fully clothed. The Doctor meanwhile, was very much awake, aware of the slightest move the blonde made on the other side of the bed. Sharing a bed was a new and different experience, one, judging by the first night's lack of success, he wasn't sure he wanted to repeat. He decided, however, to give it another try, knowing Rose was just as uneasy about this as he was.

And it got easier. A week later they made love. Wild, passionate, and almost real, Rose felt her heart swell with love for the man on top of her. As she breathed his name in release, she felt that this could possibly work.

"Rose…" He began as she drove home from work that Friday.

"Yeah? What is it? What's wrong?" She glanced his way a moment before returning her eyes to the road.

"Wrong…? Oh no, no, no; nothing's wrong. I was just thinking…" He ran his hand through his hair casually. "How about we go out to dinner tonight? Some place nice."

"Yeah…?" She glanced at him again, her lips curving up into a pleased smile. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

"Oh. Good! Good, good! So when we get back to the apartment, put on something nice and fancy (oh, the TARDIS's wardrobe would be so handy just about now) and then we shall leave, depart, go out, vacate our habitual abode," he said excitedly snapping the 't' and drawing out 'abode' longer than the normal human which, Rose reminded herself, he really wasn't.

She grinned, infected by his enthusiasm, his charming side making her giddy. "Where are we going?" She couldn't help another quick glance, her heart melting just a bit more at his wide grin.

"That! Is for me to know," he waggled his eye-brows at her, the grin turning mischievous "and for you to find out when we get there!"

"Oh come on. Really?"

"Yup!" He leaned back in his seat, popping the 'p' and folded his arms smugly across his chest.

"Well you're lucky I'm driving…"

"Oh really?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Otherwise, I'd be torturing the info out of you," she threatened good naturedly.

"Baah…" He drawled. "The reservation is for seven, so you should have plenty of time to shower, do your face, and all of that female stuff."

"And you, Doctor, need to shave."

"What? Really?" He pulled down the visor, inspecting his jawline in the mirror. "You don't like the bit of scruffy I've got? I think in another two days it'll be quite impressive—though I can't be sure in this reincarnation; I've never before been much for facial hair—"

"Then get rid of it," Rose said flatly, her dislike clear.

"It could quite possibly be charming. What d'you think?"

"Shave it, or I will," she threatened.

He blinked at her and then quickly announced his agreement on her opinion.

The Doctor was ready in significantly less time than Rose, so he settled himself on their new couch, propping his feet up on their new coffee table and picked up one of Rose's magazines to pass the time.

"Doctor?" Rose called. She walked into the hall. "Doctor, which shoes do you think match better?"

He turned, looking over the back of the couch to see. He flashed his blinding grin at her. Her heart fluttered. "They both look nice."

She rolled her eyes to cover the fact that he made her flustered. "That's not helpf—"

"But I like the strappy ones," he finished, looking up at her eyes.

She blushed. "Thanks." Rose turned and vanished back into their room, kicking the pumps she wasn't going to wear back into the closet. Her heart fluttered again as she thought about the way he'd smiled at her. Rose nibbled on her lip at the thought of their date. It'd surprised her, but she was excited about it now. They hadn't done anything together in a while. Well, Rose admitted to herself reluctantly, she hadn't exactly been attentive. She should treat him better. Tossing her hair, she flashed a smile at herself in the mirror and then exited the bedroom to find the Doctor waiting for her with an offered elbow.

"Shall we, Rose Tyler?"

Rose looked down to hide the smile on her lips, but she knew he knew it was there. "Yes. Let's."

Dinner with Rose, the Doctor discovered happened to be the best thing he'd decided to do thusfar. She laughed at his jokes and flashed those heart (only the one)-stopping smiles. He leaned forward across the intimate table for two, mindful of the candles. "So. What d'you think?"

She leaned forward as well. "Of what?"

"This..." the Doctor waved a hand at their surroundings. "Good choice?"

"Mm..." She gave him a scrutinizing look. He only wanted to hear her say it. She could indulge his ego this once. So she smiled. "Yes. I love it. It's very quaint and charming."

"Good." He took her hands. "What would you like for dessert? They have excellent banana splits, I've heard!"

Rose laughed. "I don't even like bananas all that much."

"What?" He looked horrified. "Rose Tyler! You take that back!"

"And if I don't?" She arched an eyebrow, the tip of her tongue poking between her teeth as she grinned.

The Doctor sat back with his own raised brow and folded his arms. "There might just have to be punishment!"

"Empty threats, Doctor. As usual."

"Well, my timorous beastie, perhaps this time, I'll carry through." He waggled his eyebrows, pulling out the Scottish brogue.

She forced a laugh, running a hand through her hair. "I'll be right back," Rose said suddenly, the hurt in her heart rising up like wild flames. "Got to use the loo." She flashed him a smile she thought was natural and then rushed off, asking a nearby waitress for directions.

Slamming the door shut, she leaned against it, willing herself not to cry. He'd notice. She knew he'd notice if she cried. Rose gasped for air, clenching her fists against the door. How did it get this bad. It was getting better. Honestly. Things were getting better, she was getting used to him, but then he'd say things like that and all of a sudden the pain would rush back. Nails digging into her palms, the physical pain felt better. She could deal with that. She didn't know how to deal with the man who was the Doctor and yet still a man. He was the constant conundrum—a word he'd enjoy.

Pinching her cheeks, she stood, patting under her eyes and checking her reflection in the mirror. She looked fine. Rose put on a smile and found it acceptable before going back to the man who was a doppelganger for the man she loved with every bit of her.