"You. Are having dinner. With the Rose Tyler."

The Doctor raked his hand through his hair exasperatedly. "Yes, Donna. Honestly. After all you've seen and all we've done, this is what you have trouble believing?"

Donna seated herself, yarn in hand, in the Doctor's sitting room. "Never thought it possible. Began to think you were from another world or something. And here you are, fallen for a woman you suspect to be a cat burglar." He moved to protest, but she answered before he could get in a word, even as she panted with laughter. "Pardon me, but you have to admit it is HIGHLY unlikely."

"Just a bit unlikely." His mouth quirked involuntarily, as much of an admission as she would get. "Not that I am admitting to forming an attachment to Miss Tyler."

She just smiled, happily knitting along, though the socks she was attempting were nigh-unrecognizable tangles of yarn.

Donna was finishing plaiting her hair as she descended the stairs from her upstairs flat. She was already in her nightgown and dressing gown, ready to turn in for the evening. As she looked down the stairs, she saw the Doctor standing in the foyer, readying himself to leave.

His demeanor was closed off, naturally, but she could see the extra care that had gone into his attire. Everything was atypically cleaned and pressed. The disarray of his hair was a bit neater. The loose sleeve between his fingers was then pulled taught over his wrist as he fastened the cufflink. His tie, however, was still hanging loose around his neck.

She approached him and instinctively began tying a Windsor knot. As her arm brushed his chest while she knotted the fabric, she noted that his heart was rapidly thrumming. Bless- he's nervous! She resisted the urge to make eye contact, not wanting to make him even more uncomfortable.

The tie neatly knotted, she stepped back and gently patted her handiwork. "There." Donna then looked up at the Doctor and smiled softly. "You're going to be fine. I promise she won't eat you alive."

"Of all things, Donna."

She rolled her eyes but didn't allow him to steer her off course. "I know that you don't trust her, but I can tell that you want to. You obviously saw something in her before- try and see if it's not still there, eh?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you trying to match me with every woman who crosses my path? Are you so eager to be rid of me?"

The look she gave him was a little too knowing for his comfort. "I've not tried to push anyone your way, and you know it. Besides," she said with an insufferably smug grin, "not every woman who crosses your path is Rose Tyler. I would not care if you were married and with a full brood- you would still be lost without me here to make sure you didn't burn the place down. Anyone who would have you would have to be half-barmy to put up with you in the first place, so they could not be trusted to keep you in line." She punctuated her statement with a poke to his shoulder. "That is what I am here for."

"Because you're always right," he said, trying to sound sardonic as he pulled on his cloak. He then turned to her, his look softening to fondness. "Goodnight."

"Be kind to her, Doctor," she said as she went to hold the door he exited through. "I want to be able to return to that theatre!"

The Doctor entered the theatre just as the last of the audience had filed out. He held his top hat in his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet as he took in the now empty theatre. A rustling came from his right, and he turned to see Rose approaching him. She was in a black striped dress and matching black cloak. Her hair was wound tightly in braid wrapping around her head with a few stray wisps on either side of her face. A black hat with multiple ribbons forming a large bow to the side topped off the fashionable outfit.

The heavy weight of his gaze caused Rose to shift her position and smile timidly. "Shall we be off then?"

"Of course!" The Doctor awkwardly offered his arm to her, which she took, smiling up at him. He led her outside and into the waiting hansom cab.

They ended up at a small restaurant that catered to those whose employment caused them to keep late hours. Not a few people in here were familiars of the Doctor's due to their unsavory proclivities, but it seemed to be a generally quiet night. At least, he hoped it would stay that way, depending on how his own conversation went.

"Is there something in particular you would like?" she asked as she watched the server near their table. He dismissively waived his hand as if the food choice was inconsequential. She looked at him briefly before ordering a simple dinner for the both of them.

Once the server was out of earshot, the Doctor turned to Rose and asked, "What have you been doing for the past ten years?"

Her chin shifted to the right as her eyes widened the briefest fraction. "You really don't beat about the bush, do you? Well, I supposed that has not changed."

"I thought that was why we were here in the first place."

She sighed. "True enough. Though most men believe that flattery gets them the answers they want quicker."

Those dark eyes settled on her, unwavering. "I am not most men, Miss Tyler."

"No, you're not," she murmured. Clearing her throat, she smoothed the napkin she had set on her lap. "Skipping the pleasantries, then. Very simply, I went home."

"Home?"

"Back to my mother. I had been wandering all over London when we met, trying to earn my keep as best as possible."

"So you said at the time." His back remained rigid, his expression still aloof.

"Well, I was able to earn a little money to take to my mum."

"And I have a notion of how that was."

She set her jaw, eyes firmly fixed upon the tablecloth. "Yes, of that I am well aware."

"Why did you stop, then?"

Rose looked up, eyes flashing. "Where did you go?"

"Pardon?" His eyebrows shot up, breaking his stonily placid expression.

"I came back one day. Looking for you- I was soundly informed by that pompous constable that you were no longer on the case."

Now the Doctor avoided eye contact with her. "I was asked to leave."

"Why? You were far more brilliant than any of the buffoons working on those cases!"

Rose knew that the reason was serious when pandering to his ego did not break the tension. "Why, Doctor?" Her voice mirrored that of the broken girl so many years ago.

He tugged his ear and finally looked at her full on. "I was accused of impropriety."

Her brow furrowed for a moment until understanding dawned. "Oh."

With her understanding clear, he again averted his gaze.

She looked about, as if the walls themselves could explain the reasoning to her. "But- but there were no grounds!"

"Of course there weren't," he said bitterly. "But when someone wants to be rid of you, they will find whatever method works with the most speed."

"No wonder you were angry when we saw each other." Rose whispered. "You must have blamed me for not leaving as you asked me to time and again."

The Doctor looked duly chagrined. "No, no. Well, perhaps. I may have. Unconsciously. Which is very hard for someone of my advanced intelligence to achieve, but I- oh, blast." He raked a hand through his hair. "It was not your fault, truly. I should not have told Inspector Adams' superior that he had the insight of an ape reading the natural laws of physics."

Rose's mouth quirked into a small smile, which he hesitantly returned.

Their food set in front of them, they tucked into it, both allowing a tentatively amicable silence to settle within the shop. After finishing, he stood to his feet. "I just realized that we are actually just a ways away from a paper stand that I frequent. As the weather has not turned, would you mind taking a walk?"

She nodded and wrapped her cloak around her shoulders as they exited the restaurant, thankfully unnoticed by some of the less amiable patrons. The cool night air was refreshing rather than biting. This borough of London was quiet as most of its inhabitants had already turned in for the night.

The two kept a good distance between themselves as they walked. The tension that had been strung taut between them hadn't unraveled with the loss of anger- if anything, it had wound even tighter, but with a new, unfamiliar thread.

Rose used the time to sneak glimpses of the Doctor in profile. The Doctor was walking with his hands clasped behind his back, as she pulled at a fray on her small purse. She studied the nose with a slight hook, the mess of his fringe, the sharp angles of his bone structure. He caught her scrutiny, and she quickly turned away, a pink flush creeping into her cheeks. In doing so, she missed the smile that briefly graced his face.

They reached Wilfred's stand, only to find that it had closed for the night. The Doctor looked at Rose with a confused expression. "He usually closes very late. Doesn't want anyone to miss getting his or her papers."

She pulled out her small watch. "Oh! Well, it is after midnight." A shadow crosses her face, which he barely noted before it was gone. "Shall we find another hansom cab to get home? Or are you not through with your interrogation?" She gave him a small grin to let him know it was in jest.

"Actually, I am not. The theatre is not far, we could walk if you are not too tired?"

"I am made of much heartier stuff than that, Doctor. You might as well begin your questioning."

"What else did you do? I mean, how did you become an actress?"

She took in a deep breath, which she let out, the chilly night air crystalizing briefly before vanishing. "Well, I went home to mum, as I told you. Then I- I took your advice." She paused as her mind went back to their last conversation before they disappeared from each others' lives. "What you have is a gift. Few in this world find their passion, let alone actually use it. Go, be fantastic."

The Doctor waited with uncharacteristic patience as her eyes glazed with reminiscing. After a quick blink, and an odd flush of her cheeks, she continued, "I tried to go back to school, but they would not let a girl of my age reenroll, well, not without the proper funding. So I taught myself a little from what few books I could get ahold of. I took tests and was even able to sit in several classes at Oxford." He watched as her gaze grew steadier, her eyes fervent. "A little physics, a little astronomy. I loved it. The study of the universe- I felt so insignificant and yet significant in the face of such vastness and complexity." She looked off, her voice faraway. "There is no other field of study quite like it."

As she turned back to him, she immediately bashfully turned again from his resulting infectious smile. "But that's absolutely brilliant! I knew that you were capable! Why did you not continue?"

Her face darkened. "I did not get along with one of the professors." She turned and shrugged, the conciliatory gesture quite out-of-place with her. "Suffice it to say, one small girl from a poor borough of London does not hold much ground against an Oxford fellow."

Before he realized it, he was standing closer her, hands clenched into fists. "Did he force himself on you, Miss Tyler?"

She shook her head, her hand briefly settling on his arm in a soothing gesture. "No, no. He did not. We just had…a disagreement of viewpoints about my academic career. Little to be done about it, now." Her voice became wistful. "But then I became a part of this American acting troupe, and the rest, as they say, is history."

With this, he looked up and realized that they had reached the front of the theatre. He turned and looked down at her. This woman, whatever she may be, should never curl in on herself in this manner.

He gently chucked a knuckle under her chin, bringing her gaze to his. "I can hear the regret in your voice." Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, she blinked hastily as she looked away. "You could always go to another university."

"I've committed to this lot." She gestured towards the theatre, before turning back to him with a small smile. "I do enjoy this aspect of my work."

He nodded, conceding. "Which you do proficiently well. But there is a light about you when you talk of your studies. That curiosity is a gift. Don't waste your brilliance on anything less than what you are meant for."

She stuck her hand out, which the he took, perplexed. "I have waited for you to return. It is so good to see you again, Doctor." Her tongue-in-teeth smile waned, and now sobered, she searched his face. She was standing on the first step to the theatre, so they were almost the same height. Her eyes dropped to his mouth as she murmured, "My Doctor." Her free hand cupped his cheek as her thumb trailed along the line of his cheekbone.

The Doctor licked his lips unconsciously as they stared at each other in an impasse. As her hand began to slip from his face, her thumb caught on his bottom lip, causing her eyes to widen in fear that she had gone too far. Before she had a chance to apologize, his own hand darted forward, tangling into the curls at the base of her head, drawing her lips within a hairsbreadth of his own.

Their breath mingled, the moment burdened heavily with the continued inaction. His dark eyes darted back and forth between looking at hers, clearly undecided about this turn of events.

The apprehension there decided it for Rose. She closed the distance, softly pressing her lips to his. After a few moments of gentle pressure on her part, his grip in her hair eased, and he returned it. With his fingers now merely curling around the line of her neck, he rerouted the fervency into his kiss, his head angling for a better fit.

As his other arm finally looped to draw her closer, Rose broke the kiss and stepped back from him. He barely noticed the tear tracking down her cheek before she turned and quickly ran up the steps and into the theater without a backward glance.

The Doctor stood for a moment gaping at the closed door before he stepped into the fog towards his abode.