The past two weeks had been the longest that Rose had ever faced. She had resumed her work back at the bookshop. After everything she had seen and experienced, Powell had seemed to lose what little luster it had to begin with. She was, however, slowly but surely putting her life back together. The nightly crying jags had waned, and she was again able to put on a happy face for customers and coworkers. Heartbroken as she was, she knew she had to keep going on with her life. She couldn't keep tossing between loving and hating him. She knew she had to "carry on."

Rose had closed up shop late that evening and was returning to her mum's house. Funny how she no longer considered it home. Where was home? Her mind conjured vast moors, the seemingly unending sheets of rain, a Scottish terrier curled at her feet, a overstuffed chair in front of a fire, a hand taking hers…no. Rose Tyler, you are NOT going down that road tonight. You are just going to have to remake your home here.

The normally bustling streets of Powell were complete empty, like a ghost town. Like her life now. The only noises she could hear were the muffled noises coming from inside the darkened houses lining the street. A sharp wind blew past, carrying bits of paper and leaves. Rose wrapped her arms tighter around her torso and picked up her pace. The blackout curfew only allowed her half an hour to get home, and this evening Rose had wandered a little slower than usual.

As she rounded the corner to her street, she saw a man at the opposite end walking towards her. The man was in a brown trench coat with the collar pulled up against the cold, a fedora hanging low and covering most of his face. He was wearing…trainers. When he saw her there he stopped. It can't be…

It was. He broke out into a full run towards her, and Rose found herself running towards him despite how angry she was at him. He was grinning from ear-to-ear, and she couldn't help but reciprocate.

They had almost reached each other when a shrill whistle broke the night's stillness. "Hey, you two!" An air raid warden emerged from a side street. "What in the blazes do you think you're doing? We've got a war on!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort. Rose hastily spoke up before the Doctor put his foot in it and landed them with a fine or even in jail. "I'm so sorry, sir. I was late home from work, see, and he was meeting me. My home's just right here, and we'll be out of your way."

"See that you get there now." The warden's gaze went to each of them before he motioned them on.

Rose pulled the Doctor's arm to keep him from interjecting and took him into the house.

They entered the doorway, and the Doctor turned to her. "Well, they certainly don't pick wardens for their brains, now do they?"

Rose locked the door and removed her coat, not turning to meet the stare she could feel boring into the back of her head.

"Rose, please look at me." She glanced up at him then neatly slipped past him to walk from the foyer into her sitting room. "Rose, wait." She kept walking into the kitchen where she grabbed a kettle and began filling it with water. The Doctor cautiously came into the kitchen, still in his hat and coat. "Please hear me out."

She whirled around and stuck a finger in his chest. "No. I already heard what you have to say, or moreover, what you don't have to say. I just let you in here because I didn't want to feel guilty for making you stay outside knowing that you'd get yourself thrown into custody."

She turned back to her stove and lit the gas burner, putting the kettle over the flame. Rose then walked past the Doctor back to the sitting room where she began to build a fire. "Rose, I know I deserve all of that and far worse." Rose snorted. "You have every right to be livid with me."

She could hear him begin to pace behind her. "I was just so…afraid. Here you come into my house, all pink and yellow, forcing your way into every part of my life. I didn't want you there."

Rose finally looked up at him. He had taken his hat off and dropped it into the chair. His hair was an odd combination of hat head and tufts that were standing on end from him absentmindedly raking through it.

He sat down in a chair with his eyes to the ground. "The last thing I wanted was to let you in. All I have ever done is lose those I let in." His hands fisted in his hair. "When Susan caught scarlet fever and died, I was on a train in Istanbul. Romana was already dying when I got home. I wasn't there. I was a healer," he hatefully spat out the word, "and there my family was dying. I had a major abnormality, and I had absolutely no idea! He jerked his head up and looked her straight in the eye. "You want to know why I have everyone call me 'The Doctor?' Because the man I used to be died with them. The title was everything I failed to be." He hung his head.

Rose came to kneel in front of him.

He looked up at her, completely broken. "Then I met you. You're intelligent, lovely, kind, and even fun- and you shockingly saw through all of my pretenses." She gave him a small smile. "You reminded me of the man I was. You made me better." He lifted his hand and slowly trailed his fingertips down her cheek. "But then all I could see was the day when I would fail you. The day when you would be the one lying on that bed, gasping for air, and there wouldn't be a thing I could do."

Rose took his face into her hands, wiping the tears that had started to fall down. "It's not your fault. There wasn't a thing you could have done differently. It was their time. Just as it will be when mine comes- but we have no idea when it could be." She pressed her forehead to his. "I could lose you tomorrow. That won't make me run away," she whispered.

"My precious girl," he murmured. "You're so different from Romana. I want you to know that you aren't some sort of replacement to me. I'll always miss her." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "But I have been mental the past couple of weeks without you. The Brig and Sarah Jane can attest- they practically threw me out of my own home!" Rose laughed despite the tears filling her eyes.

"Doctor-" Rose began.

"Cian."

Rose's eyes widened. "What?"

"That's my name, Rose. Cian Aeric McCrimmon. My parents apparently wanted to make sure that the world knew I was from the north."

"Cian," Rose repeated, liking the way it lilted.

His answering grin spread across his face. He then knelt down so he and Rose were now face to face. "You were right."

She looked at him enquiringly.

"It does need saying. I can't go on another day without you running around my house, invading my space, cutting me down to size." Tears started rolling down Rose's cheeks and he framed her face with his hands, brushing them away. "Rose Tyler, I love you. I wish that those words-"

Rose cut him off by grasping his lapels and rising up to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, eliminating the space between them. They came up for air, only to have Cian immediately reclaim her lips.

When they broke apart, Cian grinned down at her. "You do realize that was a proposal?"

"What?"

"I told you I wanted you with me from now on. Wouldn't want everybody to think I'm a dishonorable man taking advantage of you, now would we?"

Rose put a finger to her chin. "Well- you are kind of old…"

"What?" he whinged. "I'm merely 34."

"Utterly decrepit." Rose mock-sighed.

"But you still love me," he sing-songed.

Rose's face sobered. "Yes."

His eyes searched hers. "Was that a yes, you love me, or a yes, you'll marry me?"

Rose grinned at him, tongue caught between her teeth. "Both."

Cian jumped to his feet, pulling her up with him. He then picked her up round the waist and spun her around in a circle, laughing. When he set her down on her feet again, he snogged her for all he was worth. As they deepened the kiss, Rose twined her fingers into his admittedly great hair. Her mind became fuzzy until reality came knocking.

"Rose?" a voice called from the hallway.

They quickly broke apart. "Mickey." Rose said.

Cian saw a boy of about nine walk up to the entryway. Rose smiled at him sheepishly. "The neighbors didn't like the thought of me being here all alone so they sent Mickey to stay with me every few days." She turned back to Mickey. "Mickey, this is my friend, the Doc- Dr. McCrimmon."

"Oh, Rickey, hello!" he said, shaking the boy's hand.

"It's Mickey," the boy mumbled. "I'm sorry Rose, I fell asleep. Is dinner ready?"

"No, no I'm sorry. I'll get that ready right now, all right?"

"Okay. Is he staying?"

Rose looked to Cian, who shrugged. "I didn't get a room at the hotel." He tugged at his ear. "I kind of was in a hurry to get here."

Rose's answering smile was devious. "Well, I hear Mickey kicks. Good luck with that."

**Cian (KEE-uhn) Celtic meaning "ancient." Aeric, derivative of Erik, Old Norse meaning "forever" and/or "alone."