A/N: Well, here's a sort of cute chapter for you all! (: And happy belated birthday, Aria (is it Aria?)! I hope you had a fantastic day! c:

The Doctor isn't in the living room anymore when she gets out of the shower, so she assumes he's done as he's told and gone to bed. She drags the hairbrush that was on the counter through her hair until it's knot-free. Then, using the tooth brush that must be the Doctor's, she brushes her teeth, hoping that he won't mind. She'd never really been a germ freak, so it doesn't bother her. When she's done and completely clean, she feels amazing and refreshed. She also smells faintly of coconut, which is rather delightful. Sighing, she runs a hand through her hair and then wraps a towel around herself, picking up her clothing. She tiptoes down the hall and throws open her door. The cold air inside wraps around her and she shivers, walking inside. The water from her hair drips onto the carpet, creating a wet area beneath her feet.

Her eyes drift to the bed and she blinks in surprise. On the covers of her bed are clothing that all look to be her size. Tilting her head, she steps towards it. She drops the towel and reaches for the clothes. There is a pair of light blue jeans and a gray t-shirt with double straps. There's also a simple pair of white underwear and a white bra. She breathes a sigh of relief and begins to put on the bra and underwear.

Briefly, she wonders how the Doctor had gotten them. It would be natural to her to think that he had stolen them, but the clothes all look a little worn. Someone else had to have worn them before. Who? She frowns, deciding to ask about it in the morning. Gently, she rests the shirt and jeans onto the dresser and climbs into the bed, her eyes fluttering shut. For a few moments, Rose just shuffles uncomfortably under the covers, trying to find a position in the bed that didn't feel weird.

She eventually turns onto her side, facing the wall. This makes her feel vulnerable, however, so she turns back, staring straight up at the ceiling. She lies there, just staring at the ceiling for a frustratingly long time. She's tired, but she doesn't seem able to fall asleep. Her eyes are heavy, but even when she closes them, her brain remains active, hundreds of thoughts flipping through her head. Hundreds of questions, none of which she has the answer to.

At some point, she realizes that she's not going to fall asleep. Angry and frustrated, she tosses the covers off of her body and slips out of the bed. She must have been lying there for several hours, at least, for her hair is dry, for the most part, spare the back which is simply damp. Her eyes drift around the room, and then settle on the dresser. Curiously, she starts forward and pulls open the top drawer. Inside it is nearly stacked full of clothing, along with several other items. They're all women's clothing, and all of them look about her size. She's suddenly struck with a terrible thought. If all of this was here, someone had to lived here, with the Doctor, before her. But... what had happened to her? Had she left or... had she died?

She had thought that she trusted the Doctor again, at least a little, but this aroused questions. Her stomach was already beginning to twist into knots. Nervously, she begins to sort through the clothing until she has found a sleep shirt and plaid night pants. She quickly pulls them on and then starts towards the door, throwing it open. Immediately, she crosses the hallway towards the Doctor's room and then stops, her eyebrows furrowed.

What if it was another touchy subject for him? There was a lot of things she still didn't know about him. Maybe this woman, whoever she had been, had been someone close to him, and he had lost her. Still... she has the right to know, doesn't she? If she was living with the Doctor - who was accused of murder - she does have the right to be suspicious.

Making up her mind, she knocks on the door. When there's no reply, she nervously opens up the door. The light is off, the only thing providing her her vision being the moonlight flooding through the open window and casting the room in a pale, silver glow. Her eyes scan the room and then settle on the box near the closet. The Doctor has yet to pick it up. The papers and files and blanket are still strewn around on the floor. He must have just walked into his room and collapsed on his bed, not bothering with the objects. Shaking her head, she makes her way towards the bed, where the Doctor is asleep, the covers pulled up to his chin. He's on his side, facing her.

"Doctor?" She says, probably a bit too loudly. He stirs and frowns softly, making a small noise in his sleep. His hair, which looks silver in the moonlight, droops in front of his eyes as if it's wet. "Doctor?" She says again, softer this time. Slowly, his eyes open, and he drowsily looks up at her, frowning.

"Yeah?" He mumbles, sounding confused as to why she had came in and woken him up. Pursing her lips, Rose winces, beginning to have second thoughts. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. She doesn't want to upset him any more than she already has today.

"I just... I can't sleep," she grumbles. That's not a lie, of course. She really can't sleep. But that isn't what she had come in here for. The Doctor blinks and then yawns, propping himself up onto his side with his elbow. His eyes are dull and tired and he reaches up, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he rakes a hand through his hair. Rose shifts from foot to foot, folding her arms behind her back and lowering her gaze to the floor. Suddenly, he begins to shift in his bed, scooting over. Rose's eyes flicker back up in surprise, watching uncertainly as he holds out a hand.

"'Come 'ere," he mumbles, still sleepy. Rose stares at him, her jaw hung open a little. For a moment, she isn't sure that he understands what he's doing. At first, she doesn't believe that he thinks she would trust him enough to crawl in his bed. And then, he arches an eyebrow expectantly at her, and before she even knows what she's doing, she finds herself scampering forwards, getting into his bed.

Her heart is hammering, and she feels uncomfortable and stiff, but she lays down onto her side, shifting so that the covers are on top of her. Then, the Doctor reaches for the blanket, pulling it up over the both of them, and Rose feels her heart begin to stir and she relaxes. Sucking in a breath, she shuffles towards him, trying to force herself to be brave. The Doctor smiles softly and something flashes in his eyes. He reaches over for her, pulling her up against him. Automatically, her eyes flutter shut.

Surprisingly, she feels safe, wrapped up in his arms. She isn't scared or nervous. She knows that the Doctor isn't going to hurt her, despite everything that she has learned about him in the past hours. She relaxes against him, her arms trapped between them. Her eyes open briefly, shock rifling through her as the Doctor presses his lips to her forehead. "Good night, Rose," he mumbles, tucking her head underneath his chin. Rose smiles and closes her eyes again, snuggling up against him, feeling warm and content.

"Good night, Doctor."

He's gone when Rose wakes up. The room is now flooded with early morning light. Rose reaches over towards the Doctor's side of the bed, but it's cold. He's been up for a while. Sleepily, she rises to her feet and stumbles across the room. She kicks something and glances down in confusion. Resting at her feet is a small, metal, tube-like object. It's silver, and the top is a blue bulb-like thing. She reaches down, picking it up and looking it over. There's a button on the side and, curiously, she presses it. A whirring sound fills the room and the bulb at the top lights up. Shrugging, she places it into the pocket of her sleep pants and then slips into the hallway, looking it up and down.

Briefly, she flashes back to when she had done the same thing several hours earlier, that time holding a newspaper that could've completely ruined her relationship with the Doctor. And yet, judging by how she had slept in his bed last night, it clearly hadn't. Why? she wonders suddenly, frowning. Why hadn't it destroyed their relationship to the extent that she would have expected?

Not that she would have wanted it to, of course, but she doesn't quite understand... Rose shivers and shrugs it off. She doesn't need to worry about it. They were okay for the most part, and that's what mattered. Her eyes flicker to the bathroom door as she suddenly realizes that there's running tap water. Light floods out from underneath the door, and she thinks she can hear a faint humming coming from the room.

She starts towards it as the sound of water stops. She raises her hand to knock, but never gets to. The door swings open, and Rose takes a step back in surprise. The Doctor stands in the doorway, looking just as shocked. One of his hands is buried in his hair, in the process of ruffling it. The other is by his side. His... bare... side... her gaze travels down his body. He's wet, clearly having just gotten out of the shower. He isn't amazingly well-muscled, but his stomach isn't completely flat despite his skinniness, either. The only thing he's wearing is a fluffy white towel that's wrapped around his waist, which is rather quite loose. It looks as if it could fall off any minute. The thought makes her cheeks flush red and she jerks her head back up to his face. His own cheeks are tinted pink, but his eyes are sparkling in a little bit of amusement. He clears his throat and pulls at his earlobe.

"Hi," he says, pursing his lips. Rose nods stupidly for a second, and then snaps back into reality.

"Yes! Hi, hello... good morning," she stumbles over her words, embarrassed. The Doctor chuckles, dropping his arm back to his side.

"Didn't expect you to be up so early," he mumbles, leaning awkwardly against the doorway. Rose shrugs, raking a hand through her hair. A few strands come off and she shakes them onto the floor.

"Guess I wasn't really that tired..."

"No, guess not." Then, he grins widely at her. "You fell asleep though! That's good! Molto bene." After that, he adds, "you needed sleep, I think. Just as much as I did."

Rose nods in agreement. "Yeah, probably. We both just..." she pauses, searching for the right words. "Needed to cool off. Relax?" She shrugs, feeling as if she's just spewing out random words and phrases, now. Which, she probably is. She wouldn't be surprised if she were. The Doctor has usually managed to bring out her jumpy, awkward side quite easily since they met.

They stare at each other for a minute or two, both just as awkward and embarrassed as the other. Then, suddenly, the Doctor snaps into motion, causing Rose to jump. He looks guilty when she does.

"I'd better go get dressed," he says quickly. "I've got to work today, and I got up late."

Rose nods, but doesn't move. He smiles a little and stares at her expectantly, pursing his lips to hold back a bigger grin, and, probably, a tease. Rose blinks, and then steps back to give him room to leave. "Right, sorry," she laughs, flushing again, and the Doctor shakes his head, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes.

"It's fine," he says. Rose nods and then backs up until her back is pressed up against the wall. She crosses her arms over her chest, dropping her eyes to the floor. The Doctor stands there for a few more seconds before he begins down the hall. Curiously, she peeks up under her eyelashes, smirking a little at the display he has unintentionally given her of his backside muscles. Then, she snorts at herself, and spins on her heels, scampering towards the kitchen to make something up for them to eat.

Disappointingly, he's fully dressed when he comes back out. Once again, he's got on the clothing that he had been wearing the day they met. She wonders in the back of her mind if he ever washes them (surely, he must, because they don't smell). His hair is dry and gelled up, too. He still looks a bit tired, and Rose notices that he's suddenly being careful not to make quick or jerky movements around her. Once they're settled down, each with a bowl of cereal, Rose starts to speak.

"You don't have to be so... you don't have to act like I'm a fragile doll, Doctor..."

He glances up at her in surprise, his spoon hovering in front of his mouth. Slowly, he lowers the spoon back into the bowl and begins to stir it, his brow furrowed. "No, I... I know."

Rose sniffs, swallowing the spoonful of cereal she had shoved into her mouth. "Then why are you?"

"I don't know. I don't want to scare you, I suppose," he mumbles, brushing back his hair. Rose blinks at him in surprise and then snorts.

"You're not going to," she promises, and he looks up at her, taking in a breath. He doesn't reply, and instead resumes eating, now avoiding meeting her gaze. Rose frowns and then, at that moment, she remembers the real reason she had come into his room the night before. She still hasn't asked who the clothing had belonged to.

"Hey, Doctor?" She asks quietly, uncertainly.

He looks up at her, cocking his head. She sucks on her lower lip, biting down on it. "Those clothes on my bed... the clothes I'm wearing now... whose are they?"

His eyes suddenly flash with something that Rose can't read and he stiffens. "I don't know. Just the person who lived here before me, I suppose," he says quickly and then stands up. Rose arches an eyebrow and rolls her eyes.

"Why would they leave their stuff here?" She questions, annoyed. The Doctor shuffles stiffly towards the sink, where he plops down his bowl and turns the tap on, beginning to clean it.

"They died in some accident, I think," he grumbles, avoiding looking at her. Rose glares at him and stands up with her own empty bowl, walking towards the sink as well. At first, she plans to act cross with him, but those plans diminish as she sees his face. It's red. Not from anger or annoyance, but with pain - emotional pain. Rose blinks, relaxing and feeling sympathy beginning to crawl up her spine.

"All right," she sighs, placing her own plate in the sink. "I'm not gonna force ya to tell me." The color drains from his face and he sags, looking at the sink.

"It's just something I'd rather not talk about. It's not... bad, for you," he says.

Rose purses her lips and nods, brushing her hair back. "Okay..." she says softly, watching him. His eyes finally flicker to her face and he smiles sadly, looking thankful. He takes a deep breath and stands up straight, nodding.

"I'm gonna head off, okay? I'll be back around six, probably."

"Yeah, all right."

He starts towards the door, and Rose follows. She has no intention of going with him, seeing as she's beginning to notice an aching in her legs from all the walking the night before, but for some reason, she wants to see him to the door. She stops once they're there, and Rose grabs onto his hand before he leaves. "Wait!"

He pauses and looks at her curiously. "Promise me one thing..." He nods for her to continue. "Promise me you'll stay safe, yeah?"

He grins. "Yeah, 'course." Rose smiles, and then, before she can change her mind, she takes a step towards him and stands on her tippy-toes, pressing a light kiss to his cheek and resting her hand on the opposite. He's grinning even wider when she pulls back, letting her arm fall back to her side. He tugs the door open, glancing at her again. He purses his lips, looking as if he's going to say something more, but decides against it. He hops out the door, closing it behind him, and Rose's heart is on fire, which feels both wonderful and bewildering at the same time.