The reunion went as well as could be expected when the Doctor stormed into the TARDIS to find his trans-temporal stalker crying all over the center console. He had felt her mental presence reaching for the TARDIS the second she had let her mental guards down, had dropped his drink (he frowned at that, potentially poisoned or not, it had been really good), pulled on his trousers and coat and raced towards the unoccupied TARDIS, convinced that she had pulled something underhanded to get to his precious time and space ship. How had she even gotten in? Upon alighting the ramp, he had stormed forward, eyebrows flashing as she had pressed herself into the rough buttons and levers. She seemed torn between being terrified of the lurking figure now towering over her and wanting to laugh from the sheer joy that seeing his "Oncoming Storm" face brought, because that if nothing else is what really solidified that the Doctor was here in front of her. Golden eyes met a piercing blue that reminded her of her first Doctor.

"Who are you?"

And there it was, the first question, the oldest question in the universe, hidden in plain sight. Instead of speaking, she simply turned around and picked up the quill like pen that the TARDIS had prepared for her upon a mental request. Finding a smooth spot on the shiny and oddly matching console, she drew first one circle, then another, both filled with indentations and lines and interlocking circles. Her pen strokes were smooth across the thick stationary, confident and obviously well practiced. The Doctor moved forward, looking over the smooth, cocoa colored shoulder clad in the strap of a pale yellow sundress, and promptly froze, eyes wide and mouth gaping at what lay before him. Two words he never though he would read again, written in a dead language spoken by no one but himself. Not a name, but a title.

Bad Wolf

But that was impossible. His attention fixated on the now fidgeting brunette, and his weathered hands forced her head up so their eyes could meet, ignoring her "Oi!" of protest. What he saw made his hearts stutter, her eyes were not merely oddly colored. They were much too old for her apparent youth, and seemed to glow with an inner light that was more commonly seen in… temporal… energy.

"Rose?" It was softly spoken, even in his slightly harsh accent, equal parts unbelieving and hopeful. She nodded, and he spoke her name again, this time louder and borderline manic. His hands roved over her hair, her face, her shoulders, taking comfort in their solidity, as his subconscious catalogued the differences in appearance. "But that's…"

She cut him off with a glare that was so familiar on this stranger's face. "If you say impossible, I'll slap you so hard you'll regenerate."

And with that he broke his rules and pulled her in for crushing hug, if only so she couldn't see his tears.

"Besides," he heard her voice crack, "the only impossible thing in our lives would be you paying me that ten quid you still owe me."

They ended up in the library, which had been rearranged by the TARDIS to match the early days of their traveling together. They talked about the dimension manipulator, she told him about her work, he told her about Mickey and Martha, Donna's wedding, Clara and Danny, the Ponds, and finally about River Song. They talked about marriage, she laughed that he couldn't even do that normally, he was proud that she had name her daughters after three brilliant women. They shared a moment of comfortable silence after telling each other about the people they had loved, reminiscing. The hours stretched on and were filled with laughter as they exchange story after story about the mishaps and adventures they had throughout their time apart, and while neither of them grew tired, tea and biscuits and other food and drink items appeared at random and kept them going.

Finally a lull in the talking occurred and they just sat there, cataloging the differences in one another over a cup of tea. It could have been awkward, it should have been awkward, but it wasn't. There was probably no one else in the multiverse that understood either the Doctor or Rose Tyler better than those two relaxing over tea in the TARDIS library.

It was the next evening on Hoch Strand 12^, and the fading sunshine found our Time Lord and Lady talking over chips and Banana Daiquiris about how odd of experience it had been for Rose to become fully comfortable with all the abilities of a Time Lady. It was only as they were finishing the last dredges if their favorite beverage that the noticed that the beach had all but emptied, and a nervous energy fell upon the pair like the now cool air around them. Some fidgeting and finally "And what about you? What are you going to do next?"

Almost a century and a half late and Rose recognized the words immediately. "Well, back to traveling. Same old life.

"On your own?" (Uncertainly covered carefully by careless questioning and avoiding eye contact.)

"Well, unless you want me to come along?" (Hope hidden by indifference.)

"Well yes." (Forced surprise at the question.)

"Do you though?" (Layered with meaning.)

"Yes." (No hesitation, simply honesty.)

"I just thought, because I changed." (Because I'm not your pink and yellow human anymore)

"I just thought, because I changed you might not want me anymore." (Because I'm an old, cranky man again)

"Oh, of course I'd love to come along!" (Matched with a wide smile)

"Well then Rose Tyler, all of Time and Space, where would you like to begin?"

Years later…

Rose Tyler glared at the glowing form of her husband, arms crossed as she sat back on the jump seat, far enough back not to catch the residual energy and prompt a regeneration of her own. She was pouting and she knew it, but he was a git. She had liked the silver fox look, and if he hadn't jumped in front of that errant blast, had just pulled her out of the way, he wouldn't be regenerating. She knew that he was more uncomfortable than she had been at the perceived age difference; the questioning and sometimes judgmental glances, barely concealed invitations that she could do better from strangers, the occasional father/grandfather comment. So really, it was no surprise that he had literally jumped at the chance to change his appearance to someone "better suited" to Rose, he had done it before.

Over 200 years of traveling together and 166 years of marriage and he was still making decisions for her.

They had taken it slow, three decades passing before they had even kissed. (Acts of necessity aside.) But once they had crossed that line, the walls between them had tumbled down fast enough to leave their world spinning. They had had their bonding ceremony in the heart of the Rose Nebula, presided over by one Captain Jack Harkness. Rose had persuaded the TARDIS into finding their immortal best friend one "morning" while the Doctor had showered, and after a frankly riotous reunion including mistaken identity, the Doctor in a nothing but a towel and several innuendos later, it was decided (grudgingly on the part of the Doctor, who was enjoying having Rose Tyler in all her glory to himself) that Jack would travel with them for a bit. And so he did, and they went on causing trouble across the universe, just like old times. He had decided not to stay in the TARDIS after the bonding ceremony, but they made a point to meet up every so often.

Ultimately the golden light died down enough so Rose could her first look at the Doctor's newest incarnation and she promptly burst out laughing so hard, her respiratory bypass had to kick in.

"What?!" She heard the Doctor ask her, alarmed by her response, followed by an enlightened "oohhhh."

Rose composed herself enough to look up at the tall, dark skinned woman that stood where an old, Scottish man stood only moments before, and slid off the jump seat. She sauntered up to the stunned newly formed Time Lady, a wolfish smile gracing her features as she smoothed the lapels of the oversized coats.

The Doctor flashed a dazzling and sheepish smile down at her ladylove, "it was bound to happen eventually?" Questioning at the end, gauging Rose's reaction.

Rose simply pulled her down by the lapels and snogged her good and thorough, before they broke away resting foreheads against one other's. With a smile on her lips, Rose let the now familiar Gallifreyen name slip through her lips, followed by "well I guess it's good that I'm already pregnant, or we would have had to wait a few centuries before we got might have gotten the opportunity again."

A shared thought passed through their bond at the tickle of the forming third mind brushing against their awareness, because does I Love You really need saying?

Finished! This chapter was being especially uncooperative and kept trying to go 10 different directions. I also kind of hate dialog and avoid it if you hadn't noticed. But I love where it ended up, and considering that this entire story was written as I went and not planned in advance, I'm very happy and surprised by my ending. I've went back and edited the other chapters, so hopefully they're nice and polished now and I'm also sketching some artwork to go along with the story. Thanks for reading everyone!

Thank you everyone who reviewed/ will review and special shout out to MirrorFlower and DarkWind who reviewed every chapter and really made me want to keep writing this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, any of the lines that come from DW, or characters, but this was written by my overactive imagination.