The Doctor plunked down beside Rose, reaching for her hand. She slid her fingers through his, and they exchanged mutual smiles of relief.
"Close one?" she asked simply.
He nodded regretfully.
She rubbed at her chest with a small frown. "Did my heart stop?"
He hadn't planned to tell her that, to permit her to know how very close he'd come to losing her. But now, beneath her earnestly questioning gaze, he couldn't withhold the truth.
"Yes," he replied. "But only for a minute or so."
"Oh." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Well then."
He watched the gingerly movement of her hand against her sternum. "Sore?"
She nodded. "A little. An' these marks sting." Her fingertips explored the small burns.
He stood, pulling her up with him. "Not for long."
She followed him to the infirmary willingly and removed her coat. She sat without complaining as he gently rubbed cooling regenerative gel over the tiny wounds peppering her chest, stomach, and back. He spared a few moments to take her foot in his hands and smooth a bit of gel over the mark on her ankle, too.
He did not ask her if it was all right to complete a scan of her heart and lungs; this time he was taking no chances. But she seemed to understand and did not question him.
"Everything looks fine," he told her when he'd finished the evaluation. He wondered if she heard the relief in his voice.
She smiled. "'M not surprised. You always manage to put things to rights." She slid to the floor and pulled on her shirt and jeans. "All right, your turn," she said, pointing at the couch.
He blinked in surprise. "What?"
"C'mon, Doctor, up." She patted the padded surface.
"Rose, I'm fine—"
"You've got burns too, don't you?"
"They're not bad; they'll heal."
She crossed her arms in quiet resolution, reminding him of her mother for a brief second. "They hurt."
He knew he couldn't deny the stinging, and her expression told him that she would brook no refusals. With a slightly put-upon sigh he settled himself on the couch. Rose's nimble fingers worked at the buttons on his shirt and soon had his chest and stomach exposed. She gave the entire area one long, appraising gaze, finally frowning prettily at the wounds. His had already begun to heal, but her untrained eye could not discern that.
Delicately Rose applied the gel to each small injury. Her fingers were warm and her touch soft. When she'd finished she moved around to the other side of the couch and tugged his shirt down over his shoulders and arms so that she could view his back.
"Is this from when you blew up the rock?" she asked, brushing her fingertips over the bruise above his hipbone.
"Yes," he replied.
"All right. What've you got for that?"
"The gel works on bruises, too."
Again her fingers moved over his skin, easing the slight sting and dull ache as she rubbed in the gel. When she'd finished, she stood back for a moment to survey her work then gestured toward his shirt to indicate that he could don it again.
He began buttoning the shirt. "Finished with me, are you?" he asked, not entirely failing to suppress his amused grin.
"Think so, unless there's anything else." Her eyes roamed over his body.
"No Rose, you sorted it all."
He hopped off the couch and pulled her into a hug, holding her securely for a long time. Eventually his chin came to rest on her crown, and he found one of his hands rubbing at the small of her back. He remembered that she had a bruise there and regretted that he hadn't yet healed it.
"I really am sorry, Rose," he said softly. "I put you through the wringer."
"Wasn't that bad," she began, her voice slightly muffled against the cotton of his shirt.
"It was," he retorted gently.
"Uh uh," she replied, lifting her head to look him in the eye. "We were together the whole time, so it really wasn't that bad."
He smiled and lifted his hands to cup her cheeks. "Humans," he said affectionately. "You never cease to amaze me."
"You mean in a good way, right? 'Cause I know that sometimes—a lot of times—we do stuff that shocks an' disappoints you an' leaves you thinkin' we're no better than apes."
"Not you, Rose," he said, pressing a kiss over the top of her head. "Never you."
She leaned against him, enjoying his gentle embrace as his arms looped loosely around her back again.
"So, what now?" she finally asked.
"What would you like?"
"Mmm," she considered for a few moments. "Tea."
He grinned. "That's all?"
"For now. I think I need a good cuppa before we face any more life-sucking seaweed."
"Oh, I have no intention of facing that again."
Rose smiled wistfully. He never meant to barrel straight into trouble, but more often than not, that was precisely what he did. And she charged right into the fray with him. But that was part of the package; it was what made her life with the Doctor exciting.
She slid her hand into his and prepared to face their next adventure.
The End
