Okay, I've change my mind about when this story takes place as there is a certain character that has been hopping in my brain, shouting "Pick me! Oh, pick me!". The story is now COMPLETELY AU and takes place just after The Last of the Time Lords (or after Voyage of the Damned, if the Doctor is alone at the end of that episode - don't know yet and won't know until - oh, the horrors of living in the US, having to wait so long to watch it! - probably mid-July).

Oh, and by the way, PLEASE REVIEW! Please, oh please, oh please!

Thanks:D

Chapter 4

"Hello! Grace? You about?" the Doctor called out as he walked into the house, tucking the keys to his Harley Davidson motorcycle into his overcoat pocket as he dropped his briefcase just inside the door. Looking down, he noticed the small pile of mail on the floor. Picking up the mail, he flipped through it quickly and, finding nothing for himself, put the small pile on the table next to the door.

"Grace?" he called out one more time, doubtful that there would be an answer. Grace wasn't the kind not to speak up, even if it were just to say that she wasn't talking. That particular scenario happened just the last week after the Doctor had left the kitchen in a state of disarray, the result of an enthusiastic search for a can of tomato paste. He'd needed the paste to help one of the sick components of the TARDIS get better. Grace hadn't been very sympathetic.

"You could have at least cleaned it up," she had berated him.

"I… got busy," was his lame-sounding answer, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

Grace had given him a glare and refused to speak to him for several hours afterwards. The Doctor was pretty sure that the popcorn and movie were probably what had broken the cardiologist's silence.

"No one about," the Doctor commented to himself as he moved through the living room, taking off his overcoat and draping it over the back of the couch. He glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle. "Six thirty. Must be a very long shift today." He knew Grace's work schedule better than he knew he own and his was much more predictable than Grace's.

He'd gotten a job as a physics teacher, using the alias of John Smith, at the local high school, having found the two days he'd been a teacher at Defry Vale to be most satisfactory even when he wasn't investigating the goings on there. As such, he was normally home daily at around six o'clock or so, which gave him plenty of time to get something to eat and to work on the TARDIS until he had to be at the school the next day. He didn't require as much sleep as his human friend but he usually found himself sleeping far too late during the weekends after grading papers – the only thing he found extremely annoying about being a teacher, other than the gossiping that took place in the teacher's lounge.

Looking around one more time, just to be sure that Grace was not home after all, he carefully removed his jacket. "Well, then, how about dinner?" he told himself, carefully laying the jacket with the overcoat. He loosened his tie as he walked into the kitchen, a grin on his face as he remembered the look on Grace's face when she forbade him from ever going into the kitchen again. He knew she didn't really mean it and had promised, instead, to clean up his messes in the future. She had accepted the concession grudgingly.

He rolled up his sleeves as he headed towards the refrigerator. The grin spread on his face as he started to load his arms with a variety of food: eggs, leftover steak and chicken, a squash, a zucchini, a stalk of celery and a carrot for starters. When his arms were too full for him to grab any more items, he went over to the counter and carefully deposited the load before returning to the refrigerator to retrieve milk, ham, a cucumber and jalapenos.

Turning on the radio tucked just under the kitchen cabinets, he grimaced slightly at the chatter of the deejays before quickly changing the channel to a classic Rock and Roll station. His grin widened as he heard the familiar strings of the Beatles coming from the small primitive device. "Brilliant!" he announced just before he started to pull more ingredients and a skillet from the cabinets, singing with Paul McCartney and John Lennon as they told about how much they loved someone eight days a week.

He looked at what he had gathered on the counter, nodded, and then pulled the Cuisinart from under the cabinets so that he could have access. Then, putting the appropriate blade in, he started to quickly prepare the vegetables and meat before putting them into the electronic chopping machine. As the Cuisinart did its job, the Doctor put the skillet on the stove, turning the burner on, before lathering the surface of the skillet with butter. Then, with the skill of a person who had done it literally thousands of times, he began cracking open the eggs, tossing the shells expertly over his shoulder and into the sink behind him.

He'd just cracked open the third or fourth egg when he heard Grace's voice filtering through the living room and into the kitchen. "In here!" he greeted without stopping his actions.

Grace stepped into the kitchen just in time to see a shell flying through the air, landing in the sink. "What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

The Doctor frowned slightly at the surprise in her voice. "I'm making dinner," he answered before he started beating the eggs, adding some milk and spices as he did so.

Grace hesitated, her mouth open just slightly. "I… I thought we agreed you'd stay out of the kitchen."

He rolled his eyes slightly. "No. We agreed that I'd clean up my messes from now on. And I am. See? Shells are in the sink and not on the floor." He pointed to the evidence behind him.

Again, Grace hesitated, still obviously trying to figure out everything that was happening. "I didn't know you could cook," she admitted.

The Doctor looked utterly hurt by her words. "Nine hundred years old and you don't think that I can cook?" he questioned.

"Twelve hundred," Grace corrected with a point of her finger.

"Oh, that's a lie!" he protested, clearly offended now.

"You're telling me the TARDIS databanks are lying?" Grace teased.

He sighed with defeat. "My fault for giving you access to them to get a diagnosis of the dematerialization circuit."

"You got that right." She smiled at the look on his face before moving to look over his shoulder. "So… what's for dinner?"

"Tangalonian omelets," he replied. "Well… as close to Tangalonian omelets as we can get on Earth." He frowned slightly. "You don't quite have the right ingredients on this planet to make them properly." Seeing the questioning on Grace's face, he clarified, "No lingilo and not the right kind of eggs."

"Lingilo?"

The Doctor nodded his head from side to side. "It's kind of like a squash-like jalapeno only equally sweet, sour, spicy and salty. I thought I had some on the TARDIS but no such luck, I'm afraid."

She grinned at his explanation, still looking over his shoulder. "Anything I can do to help?"

He turned his head. "You can stop looking over my shoulder and let me finish making it." Seeing the slightly offended look on her face, he corrected his mistake quickly. "Pick out a wine and set the table," he instructed, showing her in his eyes that he didn't mean to be rude to her.

"What kind?" she asked as she went to the wine cooler. "Red or white?"

"Whichever you want. It goes with literally anything," the Doctor told her as he poured the whipped eggs over the well-chopped ingredients and stirred the mixture thoroughly. Then, he carefully scooped it into the skillet and let it sizzle while he started to put everything he had already used either in the sink or back in the cabinets. Grace's comment of "Oh, that smells wonderful!" brought a smile to his face as he shut off the radio and checked how his culinary masterpiece was doing. With a skilled flick of his wrist, he flipped the whole of the contents in the skillet and then let it cook while Grace finished setting the table for two.

Placing the finished meal on a plate, he cut it into six pieces and then carried it to the table, placing it in the center.

"I forgot to say no utensils," he commented as the two of them sat down.

"No utensils?" Grace questioned with a raised eyebrow.

The Doctor shook his head. "No one eats with utensils on Tangalonia."

Grace smiled mischievously. "Not even soup."

"They don't have soup on Tangalonia," he told her with a straight face. He gave a shrug. "They don't have wine either." He reached over and served the omelet, putting a piece on Grace's plate first. "I have to warn you… it's a bit spicy."

"This said to a woman who adds Tabasco sauce to almost everything," she commented with a grin.

The Doctor smiled at her comment. "Well, we'll see." He lifted his piece from the top and took a bite, showing his human friend the proper way to eat Tangalonian food.

Grace followed his actions, taking a bite. For a moment, the Doctor wasn't sure how Grace was reacting to the unique cuisine. Then, her eyes widened slightly and she started to nod as she swallowed.

"Well… that's… different," she told him. Seeing the uncertainty in the Doctor's eyes, she gave him a smile. "I like it."

"Really?" he asked, obviously wanting her to enjoy the dinner. "I mean, if you want something else…"

"No!" Grace protested quickly. "I really like it." She waved her hand in front of her mouth. "It's just…"

"… a bit spicy," the Doctor finished her sentence. "I did warn you."

Grace nodded. A moment later, her eyes widened with surprise. She grabbed the wine glass in front of her and gulped down a couple of sips of white wine, instantly regretting her actions. She watched as the Doctor quickly got up from the table, coming back with a glass of iced water.

"You all right?" he asked with concern.

"Fine," she rasped back before gulping down the water. Breathing for a moment, she looked into the Doctor's eyes before laughing at the situation, getting him to join in the laughter.

"Has a bit of an after-bite, doesn't it?" she commented, gaining a chuckle from her friend.

"Just a little," he agreed, putting his forefinger and thumb close together to illustrate his comment.

"And that's a Tangalonian omelet," she said, taking the omelet in hand, prepared now that she knew what to expect.

"More of a pseudo-Tangalonian omelet," he told her, also resuming eating. With his mouth full, he continued. "The lingilo would make the after-taste different each time. Sometimes sweet, sometimes sour…"

"…sometimes spicy, sometimes salty," Grace concluded. "Is it rude to speak with your mouth full on Tangalonia?" she asked.

The Doctor swallowed his bite. "Actually, it's considered rude not to speak with your mouth full at the dinner table on Tangalonia. Very talkative race, the Tangalonians. Everything they do in their lives surrounds speech. They even sleep with a broadcast running in their bedrooms. Known as the noisiest planet in the universe. They're so noisy, they're noisier than the Earth."

Grace chuckled. "Well, I hope you're only planning on a Tangalonian dinner. I'm not sure I could handle a Tangalonian evening if the planet's as noisy as you say." She paused, thinking about his words. "Wait. Are you saying that we're noisy?"

"Only in a good way," he assured her, taking another bite.

Grace let the conversation drop, not wanting to get into another Time Lord versus Human discussion with the Doctor.

The rest of the meal was enjoyed in relative silence with an occasional word here and there. Once dinner was over, however, the Doctor grabbed his companion's hand and pulled her with him.

"Come on," he entreated her gently, not letting her go upstairs.

"Where are we going?" Grace asked with a raised eyebrow.

"To the TARDIS," he answered, gaining an exasperated look. "What is it?" he asked, concerned about that look.

"Doctor, the only thing I'm interested in right now is a hot bath and a good night's sleep. I don't think I have the energy to even try to keep up with you bouncing around, repairing the TARDIS."

The Doctor looked at her gently. "No repairing tonight. I promise. Taking the night off."

Grace looked at him as if he'd just told her the moon was made of marmalade. "You are taking the night off? You? Mister 'I can't wait to get off this ruddy rock'?" she said with obvious disbelief.

"I don't recall ever saying any such thing. Besides, there isn't much that I can do at the moment other than make sure the grafts are still holding," he protested. "I want to show you something."

"What is it?"

The Doctor didn't answer right away, just looking into her eyes. "Please. It means a lot to me." Without waiting for a reply, he started to pull her with him again, this time not receiving any protests, verbal or physical.

They walked through the house and to the guest cottage the Doctor currently called his home. There, standing against one corner, was the TARDIS, still waiting to be completely healed of all her wounds. The Doctor pulled Grace into the police box, through her myriad of corridors, to a double door that was locked against Grace's brief attempt to open it.

"I don't go in there very often," the Doctor told softly as he leaned against the wall just opposite the door. "Too many memories." He took a breath and exhaled, focusing his thoughts on why he had brought Grace to this particular door. "It looks different from the last time you were in there. I'd gotten into a redecorating mood after New Year's Eve." He didn't need to specify which year. He knew that she would know. "Got all nostalgic. Made the whole TARDIS look…" He hesitated, obviously uncomfortable with the memory. "…look like home," he finished. He noted the look of sympathy on Grace's face and pushed from the wall, instantly covering his feelings about the subject. "After the…" He swallowed tightly before rephrasing his sentence. "After I regenerated into my ninth life, I redecorated again. The TARDIS needed repair and I needed a change. So…" He gestured to his surroundings, to the organic-looking walls around them. He then nodded to the door. "But that… I didn't change." He paused, swallowing down the memories that came unbidden to him. "I… I couldn't change it." He rubbed his nose briefly with a sniff, again hiding his feelings. "Which is why I don't go in there often. I've only gone in there once since…" He hesitated again with yet another sniff. "…since the war." He gave a weak smile. "Rose wanted to know what it looked like."

Grace had listened without interruption, knowing from the look on the Doctor's face that what was on the other side of the door was intensely personal and perhaps even painful for him. He didn't talk much about the war with her. She knew it was a long and bloody war that had affected more than just the Time Lords and the Daleks, whom she had discovered from the Doctor were the same creatures who had filled the skies while the metal men – Cybermen – attacked from the ground. She also knew the Last Great Time War had left the Doctor alone in the universe. The Last Time Lord. The Doctor had told her how his home planet of Gallifrey had been destroyed, taking all of the Time Lords with it. All but him.

It took a few moments for what the Doctor had said to make sense to her. Turning towards the locked door, she wondered why he would bring her here when what was behind the door obviously brought so much sadness to her dear friend.

"What's on the other side?" she asked. The moment the words left her lips, she knew the answer wasn't going to be what she expected. Each room in the TARDIS had its own name, just like a house is full of specially named rooms. She was expecting the name of this room. The answer she got was…

"Gallifrey."

Without another word, the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and unlocked the door. He gave Grace a sad smile before pushing the doors open.

It looked almost like it could have come right off of a page of a book. There didn't seem to be a ceiling or even walls. The view seemed to go on forever. The deep red grass and the bright twin suns, which gave the sky an amazing burnt orange color, beckoned her to follow them to the edge. On the right were amazingly intricate purple rock formations, as if the place had been etched into the side of a mountain. Just below and to the far left, standing majestically in view, was a large glass-enclosed city, its tall spires reaching up as if it could touch the heavens themselves.

Close up was just as majestically beautiful. The garden flourished with red, purple, blue and silver plants which graced the perimeter. A cobblestone walkway started at the door, went into the garden and stopped at a large circular rock formation in the middle of the large garden. The rest was covered with the same deep red grass that could be seen all through the valley below. The garden itself seemed to come to an abrupt end at the far side, a short rock wall and two ornate pillars the only things to prevent someone from falling thousands of feet.

Grace dared to take a few steps into the room, stunned by the beauty before her. She could have sworn that she could feel a gentle breeze on her face, a sweet scent tickling her nose.

"This is Gallifrey?" she questioned, unsure of whether or not she was hallucinating what she was seeing.

"In a way," the Doctor told her softly, following her into the room slowly. "The plants are real, as are the pillars and the rock wall. The rest is an illusion to make the room look this way. The room itself only goes to the rock wall."

A gentle smile formed on Grace's lips. "It's beautiful," she commented.

"Yeah," the Doctor said quietly. Feeling Grace's eyes on him, he tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. "This was my mother's garden. On Gallifrey," he started. "She spent hours keeping her plants. My brother and I used to play out here all the time. And then he left for the Academy and I never saw him again, even after I left for the Academy myself. Well, not until Mother died. He didn't want the house; I didn't want to stay. But neither did we want this garden to die so…" He finally looked at his surroundings. "It's an exact replica of her garden with one exception." He nodded to the rock formation in the center of the room.

Grace followed his motion and finally really looked at the large circular formation, finding it oddly familiar. Moving closer, she could see the four holes where there should have been four tall staffs on each corner of the formation. In the center was a large ornate metallic dome which looked as if it could be opened.

"Wait…" she started, pointing to the dome. "Isn't that the Eye of Destruction?"

For the first time since he had asked her to go into the TARDIS with him that night, the Doctor grinned and chuckled. "Harmony. The Eye of Harmony. You never did quite get that."

"Right," Grace replied, slightly embarrassed by the mistake. "But that would mean that this is the Cloister Room. Am I right?" Seeing the Doctor nod, she shook her head slightly. "You really did redecorate," she commented, remembering how it had looked more like a gothic cathedral the last time she had been in there. "What happened to the staffs?"

"They burned with the Eye," the Doctor told her quickly, not looking at her. "The garden nearly burned with the Eye too but the TARDIS saved it."

Grace frowned at his words, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

He pointed to the ceiling. "Sprinkler system."

Grace shook her head. "No, I mean with the Eye burning. What does that mean? I thought the Eye powered the TARDIS."

The Doctor took a deep breath. "It did. Not anymore." Seeing the confusion that was still on her face, he sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to be happy until he explained himself. "The Eye of Harmony was on Gallifrey."

"But you said this was the Eye," Grace pointed out.

"It was," the Doctor confirmed, gaining a roll of her eyes in response. "It's… complicated." He noted the way Grace folded her arms, waiting and sighed again as he found a seat on the corner of the Eye that once housed a staff. "The Eye of Harmony was a time-spatial anomaly that lay in the heart of Gallifrey. It was also in every TARDIS throughout the universe. It powered the entire Time Lord civilization." He glanced at Grace to see if she actually understood what it was he was telling her.

"So… the Eye of Harmony was in multiple places and in only one place at the same time," Grace concluded. Seeing the glint in the Doctor's eyes, she knew that she had hit the proverbial nail on its head. "That's… amazing!" Her smile faded as she realized the implications of the concept. "So, when Gallifrey was destroyed, so was the Eye."

The Doctor nodded after a moment, his eyes pained from the memory.

Grace didn't say anything, seeing the look in the Doctor's eyes. Going to him, she sat beside him, putting her arm gently around him before laying her head on his shoulder, thinking about the man she was trying to comfort. She didn't know why he took her to the Cloister Room when it was so obviously painful for him. Why would anyone, human or alien, deliberately expose such a personal and painful part of their lives?

"Why did you show me this?" she asked gently. She felt the Doctor tense under her touch upon hearing the question. Slowly pulling away from him, she looked at him with concern as he stood and took several steps away from her.

The Doctor just stood, his back to the woman he now considered a close friend, thinking about the question she'd asked. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind as he tried to find an answer.

Occasionally, not that often recently, the Doctor would silence his mind and communicate telepathically with his ship. People who didn't understand the relationship of Time Lord and TARDIS might say that he was mad to even suggest that he could actually hold a conversation with a machine. But they didn't know that the TARDIS wasn't just a machine; it was as much a part of a Time Lord as were two hearts and a respiratory bypass system.

Leave it to Grace to ask, the Doctor thought with a mental sigh. How can I even answer that question when I don't know the reason myself? I'm not even sure why I showed Rose.

Don't be stupid, Doctor, the TARDIS whispered back to him. The Doctor had always heard the TARDIS as having a feminine voice, even though the timeship really didn't have a gender. You know why you showed Rose. You loved her and she asked you to show her.

But that doesn't explain voluntarily showing Grace my mother's garden, especially when I know it will only hurt me.

Certainly it does. This room is very personal to you on so many levels. Maybe you want to let her in, just like you wanted to let Rose in. You could have told Rose 'no' when she asked. But you didn't. Face the facts, my old friend. You are falling in love with Grace Holloway.

The Doctor mentally denied the TARDIS' supposition, instantly breaking off the telepathic communication. Even as he refocused on the here and now, he felt Grace's eyes on his back. He had to say something to her, he knew. He couldn't just let the question hang in the air. It wouldn't be fair to her. But neither could he accept the TARDIS' supposition. He wasn't falling in love with Grace. It just wasn't even an option. In ten years time, he and the TARDIS would be flying through the time vortex to the next great adventure. He didn't have the time or the inclination for anything as mundane as falling in love with a primitive ape.

"I just thought that…" he started. "Well… you know about the Time War and you already know about my mother being human… which isn't something I just tell anyone, even though I seemed to tell everyone everything in my eighth life. I just thought you might like to… see Mother's garden." Even to him, the explanation sounded extremely lame.

Oh, that's really convincing, Doctor.

Shut it, the Doctor warned his ship as he turned to see Grace coming towards him.

"Well, it's a lovely garden," she told him, gently smiling as she took his hand. "Thank you for sharing it with me." Seeing the Doctor nod slightly at her gratitude, which was the most he would do if it were personal to him, she pulled him towards the door. "You know what? I'm in the mood for ice cream. You got any in that disaster zone you call a kitchen?"

"Oi!" the Doctor feigned protest, the sadness that he had felt temporarily banished as he followed her out the door. He couldn't help but grin at Grace's laughter as the two of them made their way towards banana splits.