And so we reach the end of The Sort-of-Doctor! Thanks to all those who enjoyed this story (including those of you who read but didn't review – I'd still love to hear your thoughts!). I thoroughly loved this story, and think it leaves itself open to a sequel… Or five. Who knows? x

Linear living was really no fun. None at all. He leaned against the hood of Rose's car, huddled as deeply into his new coat as he could get – this new human physiology didn't deal well at all with the cold. He could feel the tip of his nose going numb and knew that if she kept him waiting much longer it might well fall off. If the TARDIS had been ready she could just have stayed in her pyjamas and foregone the makeup, but - alas – it was that very baby ship they were taking this exceedingly slow, tedious route to visit. Tilting his head back, the Doctor inhaled the crisp icy air and trained his eyes on the grey morning sky. Entire worlds lay up there, ripe for discovery, and he itched to begin his adventures. Even better, now that he could have Rose with him forever – or whatever their forever would be. Taking the slow path was not for him, but he bore it because he had to, and just being in any kind of proximity to Rose made it more endurable. She, with all her hating him and being angry at him, was now his complete reason for living. He half suspected she still harboured some aversion to him, albeit subconsciously, but hoped that eventually she would settle to loving him entirely and without reserve. So much had changed in the few months since they had arrived, but their relationship was far from perfect… However, he acknowledged not a little conceitedly, the previous night had been a step in the right direction.

Eventually, the woman in question exited the mansion, swathed in a pink puffer jacket than made her look like a vast candyfloss. She was grinning that dazzling grin, evidently elated at the sight of the long, slender figure enveloped by the familiar suit and coat. Jackie peered out of the living room window after her, her eyes narrowing dangerously; she knew when she was being lied to. The Doctor pondered the possibility of just admitting that they were going to give it a go – it seemed nonsensical to fib when she so obviously knew the truth. It was when Tony scampered up to the window next to her and began waving furiously, his hair still spiked at the front, that the Doctor realised it was he who needed to be protected. If anything should go amiss between himself and Rose, it was the little boy who could potentially suffer most.

Once they were settled in the car and cruising towards town, Rose turned down the radio and cleared her throat. She was feeling more than a little self-conscious after her brazen display the night before – human as he was, he was still the Doctor, for crying out loud! It was all her fantasies come alive, and it was taking a while to sink in that they were finally becoming reality. Her next words came out more confidently than she expected.

"I can't believe you gave me a love bite!" she shrieked, briefly turning her head to eye him with irritation. The Doctor held up his hands in a show of surrender.

"Well, according to you I've got an oral fixation, so of course I'm going to use my mouth at every opportunity. I dunno, though. I quite like them," he smirked, watching her face intently for a reaction. She pouted, keeping her eyes on the road.

"I suppose those scratch marks on your back are a bit lethal."

"And the tooth marks on my shoulder."

"And the fingertip shaped bruises on my waist."

"What?! Oh Rose, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be daft, you plum. It's fine."

"Do they hurt?"

"In a good way. A reminder."

They fell silent then, both engrossed in recollections of the events of Christmas Eve. The atmosphere became thick and electric, and Rose knew that their relationship was destined to become one of frequent erotic occurrences – already she understood just how impossible it would be to keep her hands off him. Seeming to sense her thoughts, the Doctor laughed darkly.

"We'd better take out medical insurance – we're a danger to ourselves." He paused before continuing proudly, "Also, I've been thinking!"

"Have you? Clever boy!"

"Shush, Tyler. I'm being brilliant. Care to listen?"

"Care to share?"

The Doctor whined childishly, infuriated by her gibes. Laughing, Rose reached her left hand across and ruffled his hair affectionately, never removing her eyes from the road. Taking this as his cue to continue, the Doctor sat a little straighter and began to voice yet more of his brilliant thoughts.

"I realised something while I was waiting for y-"

"While you were doing your hair, you mean."

"Rose!"

"Sorry, go on."

"Thank you. While I was waiting for you. There will always be a part of the other me with you," he stated simply, twining his spidery fingers together contemplatively in his lap. "What I mean to say is… This hand." He held up the hand in question, his right one, and rotated his wrist as though submitting it for inspection. "It was his before it was mine. I grew from it. I've got his memories, his mind, his feelings – which, I grant you, I can actually act on – and his hand."

Rose could not think of a way to reply, so confused was she as to why he was telling her this. When she asked as much, the man sighed deeply and remained silent for several moments, his eyes closed against the glaring light outside.

"Because, Rose Tyler, I understand. You will always love him, and that's okay, because it's still his hand you're holding. It's alright to remember that."

She took a moment to formulate a response, breathing deeply through her nose.

"Can't I love you both? I mean, of course I miss him. He didn't wiggle, for a start. He didn't break out into a Cockney accent every so often. He kept me at a safe distance. But you… It was always you I was headed for, I know that now. I still love him because he's you, and I love you because you're him. His hand is your hand. You're the same person… sort of. Mostly. Almost entirely. All the important bits, anyway. Yeah, the same person."

The Doctor stared out of the windscreen, processing her sentence several times before forming a quiet reply.

"What did you say?"

Rose chuckled. "Those human ears aren't all they're cracked up to be, eh?"

"My senses are still sharper than the sharpest tack, thank you. I just want you to repeat what you said a moment ago."

"That you and him are essentially the same person, give or take a heart and wiggle?"

"Meeeeeh, a little bit before that."

"It was always you?"

"After."

"Oh… That I love you?"

"Oh yes, that bit. Say it again?"

"I love you."

After a meaningful pause, the tear choked Doctor responded, "Quite right too." Rose laughed throatily, tears of nameless origin prickling behind her eyes; she had to pull over into the hard shoulder as they threatened to fall and obscure her vision. Were they tears of joy or sadness? When he finally said the words out loud, not as an unfinished thought or a whisper on a stormy beach, she decided quite definitively that the tears were ones of joy.

"Rose Tyler, I love you too."

How stupid they both felt, allowing tears to fall over a few words, but after finally sleeping together and then vocally affirming their feelings all in the space of twelve hours, even a half Time Lord can feel overwhelmed. As Rose leaned across the gear stick to kiss him, the Doctor sniffed deeply and muttered something about his Prefrontal Cortex being susceptible to Donna's overly active emotions. Giving a broken chuckle at his feeble attempts to be manly, Rose latched her arms around his neck and pulled him close, ignoring the discomfort of the position, and set a gentle, adoring kiss on his lips.

"I know you said it before, but to actually hear you say it to me... And to be able to respond…" he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in his delight. His voice, she noted, turned to a soft, almost falsetto sound when he was a happy kind of emotional, as opposed to the gruff murmur that appeared when he was inconsolably sad. The unadulterated elation that adorned his face was heart-breaking to behold – how long had it been since he could express love for someone? Leaning his forehead against hers, the Doctor continued to speak.

"Just after we got here, I was ready to give up… To take the coward's way out - leave you and strike out alone. I thought you could never want me. And can you imagine, being angry at myself? I was going mad, and I was so so angry, and so guilty for what I'd done to the Daleks, for what I'd done to Gallifrey… And you hated me, you really did, and I hated myself even more. But then…. You. Oh-ho-ho! You, Rose Tyler, gave me a chance. You brought me back to myself and helped me out of the blackness and now I have hope again! I haven't felt hope for so long. I owe you everything."

He stopped, a single honest to God tear sliding down his faintly freckled cheek. Rose's heart broke for him as she reached out to cradle his face in her hands, bumping his nose in her haste to kiss him again.

"You don't owe me anything," she whispered, brushing the pad of her thumb along his high cheekbone. The Doctor said nothing, fire blazing behind his ancient eyes. Slowly, his eyelids fell closed and his hands covered Rose's own, guiding them slightly higher so her fingers rested on his temples. He removed his hands and exhaled for a long second, the sweet, not-quite-earthly smell of his breath lingering pleasantly in her nose. Rose closed her own eyes and was startled to find herself inside his mind – his brilliant, brilliant mind.

All of the thoughts he'd had of her swam fluidly through their connected consciousness; all of the times he'd loved her and all of the times she'd been his saviour. His childhood, Gallifrey, all of his previous faces… A few details – such as his family, and his name - were still hidden behind doors, only to be revealed when (and if) they committed to one another in marriage. Much to her own surprise, Rose took this gentle dismissal in the loving, caring fashion it was intended, and perused his mind and memories allowed her with deference. This was enough for now. Finally they reached the moment they had been abandoned on Bad Wolf Bay: the complete and utter loathing he felt for himself at that moment was unbearable to witness, and Rose pulled her hands away, too afraid to watch further. The Doctor's eyes started open, his brow knitting.

"For future reference, just jolting out like that kind of hurts," he laughed roughly, frowning deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry. I just couldn't bear to –"

"I know. All I had left to show you was what you saw last night, anyway. I need to learn to stop just barging in on you like that – it's difficult to remember you're not used to telepathy."

"I can get used to it. I like it – I like feeling so close to you."

Silence reigned once again as several more chaste kisses were exchanged, both parties involved slowly coming down from the emotional peak they'd been teetering on for the past while. His mood once again turning on a dime, the Doctor twisted in his seat to face forward.

"Right, Rose Tyler, drive on. We're supposed to be visiting the TARDIS!"

Jackie and Pete stood huddled together in the cold grounds, watching Tony taking his remote controlled car for a spin – outside, so he couldn't break anything. She leaned heavily against her husband, snuggling into him as protection against the freezing day. As the youngster played, Jackie's thoughts turned to her older child. She voiced her concerns to Pete.

"They're keeping things from us, Pete. There's no reason for them to lie," she sighed petulantly.

"They're adults, Jack. They're being sensible and keeping it to themselves so no-one else gets hurt."

"Yeah, but-"

"Jackie!" Pete turned to face his wife and took her firmly by the shoulders, a longsuffering smile etched on his lined face. "We know what's going on – as if it wasn't obvious this morning. Point is, though, we can't push 'em. It's their relationship, and we need to let them work it out there way, okay?"

"Alright… I bleedin' hate it when you talk sense," the woman groaned, focusing once again on the five year old before them. Sometimes, being a parent was a right pain in the arse, it was.

The TARDIS really had grown. In just a day she'd almost doubled in size, and the swelteringly warm room was now bursting with shimmering golden light. This growth spurt was unprecedented, and the Doctor was beyond surprised when a familiar lilting hum penetrated his consciousness before he'd even exited the lift. When they'd entered CP6, however… Her presence was like coming home – he had missed this ship, his best friend, terribly. Contemplating a life with Rose by his side, travelling in the TARDIS, the Doctor realised he could actually be happy. What a thought!

Next to him, Rose's brow creased slightly. She massaged the spot between her eyebrows with the tip of her middle finger, nose wrinkling in apparent confusion.

"Doctor?" she murmured, reaching out and lightly taking hold of his arm. "Doctor, there's something in my head. It's like… a buzzing, or something."

"It's just the TARDIS, don't worry. She won't hurt you," he replied, not fully grasping the implication of his words. Rose let out a panicked breath.

"The TARDIS? But, how? I haven't looked at her, just like I promised! We could communicate a bit before, but how can she be in my head? Why am I not dead?"

The Doctor paused in his inspection of the developing coral, mouth slightly open as he considered her words. His glasses slid a little down his nose, but he didn't bother to push them back up again. Looking questioningly at the TARDIS, he listened intently to the ship's Gallifreyan reply.

"Because of the new status of our relationship, she has a small window into your mind. In the old world, you only communicated superficially – in the human way – or to translate languages. When we fully – or, well, if we fully commit to each other – that is to say human marriage, Gallifreyan bonding… You will be able to converse telepathically with her, and even fly her, once I've taught you how. At the moment, though, you're just present in each other."

"…Oh."

"Of course, if you don't want her to be present you can close the doors I was telling you about, she'll get the hint," he added quickly, realising that constant, unbroken telepathic communication wasn't for everyone. The TARDIS thrummed sadly, presuming Rose was opposed to her company. The woman in question gasped in horror, realising the implication of her short reply.

"What? No! Of course I want her. I'm just surprised, that's all. I thought having her in my head would – y'know – fry my brain. Wouldn't be the first time."

The TARDIS relaxed and the Doctor laughed, standing upright and walking around to where Rose stood, staring at the wall.

"Your brain would only be fried for two reasons – one, if you looked right into her heart, which you're not doing, so well done! That's one possible problem averted. Secondly, if you saw all the possibilities of time and space first hand. You can see them in my mind, because I…dilute them for you, if you will. But if you go all Bad Wolf on me again and literally absorb it into your own brain… Then we'd have an issue."

Three months sooner than expected, the Doctor entered CP6 of Torchwood to find a fully-fledged TARDIS console room, half contained within a glowing golden bubble. How sorry he was Rose hadn't been able to escape her assignment (ridding Middlesex of some pesky Carnafenuvian rats – how had they even got here?!) to come and see this wondrous sight. He murmured words of affection in Gallifreyan, savouring the melodic resonances and guttural reverberations. Stepping inside the bubble, he slowly ran his right hand over the console; the familiar buttons and levers just crying out to be operated. Much as he wanted to, however, he had made a solemn pact with Rose than their first trip in this TARDIS would be together.

Still, he could tinker a little, couldn't he? Twirling a dial and focusing on the display screen, he was guided by the TARDIS through the various guises available to them on her newly repaired chameleon circuit. A Starbucks coffee stand? No chance. A public loo? Rassilon, no! A blue police box? Grinning, the Doctor pressed down on the big red confirm button, and the familiar desktop theme completed around him, doors forming a few feet away with small rectangular windows at the top. A small compartment just beneath his right hand slid open, and he glanced down at it, doing a double take when the object contained within registered.

"The fabrication dispenser! It's good as new! And – oh – you sexy old thing, you! My sonic!"

The slim contraption fit into his palm as easily as it had before, the cool metal sending a shiver down his spine and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end – he felt like the Doctor, completely, for the firs time in a awfully long time. He ached to get flying, but knew that Rose would skin him alive if he even took the tiniest trip – say, to the 1960s, just to make sure Janis Joplin didn't throw out her old brown coat. It was more than his life was worth to even try at the moment – that could wait. For now, he settled down on the jump seat and kicked his trainer clad feet onto the console.

When Rose entered Torchwood a few hours later, the sight in CP6 took her breath away. There it was – her old friend, standing there in cobalt resplendence, humming quietly. Clapping her hands together in glee, the blonde rushed forward and tenderly stroked the wood of the door, hurrying inside as quickly as she could. The console room was exactly as she remembered, right down to the man reclining a short distance away. His nose was, as was usual for him, buried in a book, but she knew fine well he was watching her.

"Where would you like to start?" he asked quietly; this was his favourite game. Putting on her best surprised face, Rose played along.

"It's… um… it's bigger on the inside than on the outside."

He stood up slowly, casting the book aside and taking meandering steps towards her, hands deep in his pockets. "Yes."

"It's alien."

"Yes."

"And… you're alien?"

The Doctor stopped in front of her and extended his hand to her. She took it gladly, winding her small fingers through his long ones. He raised an eyebrow, considering the question a little more thoroughly than the first time she'd asked a long while ago. Deciding to draw out the game a little longer, he turned quickly and tugged her roughly towards the console.

"So, Rose Tyler, where do you want to go first? One hundred years into the future? Ten thousand into the past?"

He kissed her lazily then to prevent her answering, sliding his tongue fluidly into her mouth. As was her custom she went weak at the knees and buckled against him; he had to throw his free arm around her waist to hold her up. When they separated, his smile was cocky, eyebrows raised self-assuredly.

"Anywhere," she replied sultrily, smoothing her palms down his lapels. "But first, we were having a conversation! I know the ship is alien, but I want to know if you are too."

Relinquishing his grip of everything but her left hand, the Doctor began turning dials and pulling levers without even having to look – this was still second nature to him. He hummed low in his throat, the same look of contemplation crossing his face once again. He repeated her question back to her.

"You want to know if I'm an alien…"

A pause, as he threw down the final lever to send them spiralling off into the vortex.

"Well? Are you?"

"Oh yes! Well, actually, no. Weeeell… Sort of."