He held her to his chest, and while he longed to kiss her, he knew this wasn't the time. His memories had resurfaced suddenly, while he was doing nothing more than holding her hand.

The Doctor had pleaded with her to wake up, to slap him around for even being able to forget her, but she had still laid still. Her fever had raged, and a few times, he was certain she was going to slip through his hands like some many before had –in one way or another. And then, she started to get better. Slowly, and it seemed to drag on, so much so he was about to go mad with the waiting.

But she was here now, smiling up at him, and he smiled right back at her.

"Doctor," she said her voice still hoarse. "Do you…remember?"

"I couldn't forget my Donna for long," he said, reaching his hand up to stroke her cheek.

She blinked; probably certain that she hadn't hear him right. She grabbed his arm, using it to pull herself up, and he carefully held onto her, despite the fact she seemed steady.

"I need a shower," she said, after a moment. "And some tea."

"I can help," the Doctor said, and then felt heat fill his cheeks. "I mean, with the show- no! Tea, I mean with the tea. I can make that, and perhaps a bath would be better, because you're likely to be a bit weak due to the lack of use in your muscles and the healing process, and I wouldn't want you to fall, because I care very much about you and-"

She reached up, pinching his lips shut. He huffed air out his nose, but nodded.

"I'll take a bath," she said. "You make tea, and then we clearly have to talk."

He grunted out a response, and she let his lips go.

"Would you like some help there?" he asked, looking anywhere but at her.

"I can manage," she said, slowly climbing to her feet.

She shuffled from the room, and though he refrained from helping her, he still followed behind her. Ready, and waiting, should she need him.

When she was safely in the bathroom, he patted the wall and asked the TARDIS to alert him if she was in need of assistance, and hurried off to the kitchen.

He put the kettle on, looking down at his stripped pajamas with a sigh. He felt naked, vulnerable and he hated it.

He had time to dress, he was certain. She would take a while, as she always did, probably doubly so, because she was likely to get worn out from the simplest of task.

He ran his fingers over the bottom of his shirt, and looked at himself. It would be so easy to hide. A suit, a tie, and he could guard his hearts again. It was safer, for both of them. He'd be doing her a favor, really, but acting like this was all a misunderstanding. That he didn't realize he'd been flirting for some time, that he wasn't slowly letting down his guard and letting her in.

It would be safer, better, but he didn't want that. He didn't want to miss the could be, for the ache that was sure to follow. He didn't want to miss the now, drowning in the future. Not anymore, not again.

Forever was a scary word, it brought him to his knees more than once. How long would he have without her? How badly would it hurt, to be swallowed up in the absence of her fire?

He knew it would be agony, but for the first time, in so very long, he decided it would be worth it. If she could possibly feel the same about him, he'd gladly burn right there with her, as long as they might have together.

DW

She dragged herself through a bath, thankful the Doctor had suggested it. She would have preferred the shower, always had, but she was too tired to do much more than wash as it was. Still, she could have been finished long before no, but she wasn't sure she was ready to face the Doctor.

She was confused. It wasn't as if she'd never been confused by the man before, he often went on long rants, using words she was fairly sure half of which were made up…but this was different. There were boundaries, and while she was certain they both had danced with them before, this was something new.

She didn't know what to make of it, of him, right at this moment. She had thought he was going to kiss her, when she woke –not that she would have if she had been him, not after she'd been so ill- but the hug had been nice and familiar. But there was something more there, something in the way he had said her name, and she knew they needed to talk.

They needed to see if boundaries had shifted, and if they had, then they needed to decide what they were now. She wanted it nice and tidy in her mind had been glad when he had established the no romance, because at least it was something.

Now, she needed the comfort of it, again, whatever it might be now.

She heard the knock, on her bedroom door. She glanced at the bathroom door, but though she heard him enter her bedroom, he came no farther. She knew he wouldn't, but she couldn't explain away the way her heart was racing.

Some part of her, wished he would come in. That he'd walk over and…well, she didn't know. But something romantic or passionate and she snorted at the idea. This was the Doctor.

Even if he somehow wanted more, she didn't envision him pushing her against the door and kissing her, or him buying her flowers, or heaven forbid he use three little words that she was certain would make him faint with the effort.

The Doctor was a lot of things, but she wasn't sure that list included romantic or passionate.

She climbed out of the bathtub, drying and wrapping the robe tightly around her. She didn't bother with clothes, hadn't brought any in her with her. She made sure it was completely closed and secure, before heading out of the room.

The smell of toast and tea hit her nose, and she was thankful that it didn't make her stomach roll. He was standing there, fumbling with his hands, and on the bed was a tray. There was tea, and toast, and honey, and she smiled at him.

He looked so awkward, so unsure. And she had brushed her teeth now. She slowly moved closer to him, and he didn't move when she reached her hand up to his face, the skin clean shaven as she had come to know.

He took in a slow breath, and she waited for the moment to crumble under her hand, but she was surprised when he lowered his lips to hers.