The Doctor exhaled deeply as he reached the top of the stairs in their block.

"Tired out?" Rose said with a grin.

"Bit," he puffed. "I need to put you down a sec."

He gently lowered her onto the floor outside their door and proceeded to fumble with the keys.

"You didn't have to carry me all the way from the bus stop, you know," Rose said, sounding amused.

"Your doctor prescribed plenty of rest."

"Do I need to remind you that you're my Doctor?"

"Don't be silly," the Doctor said. The door opened and he lifted Rose in his arms again. "Anyway, till you're fully recovered, you, Rose, are a princess—"

"Ooh!"

"—and I your loyal subject, here to wait on you hand and foot," the Doctor finished, depositing her on the bed.

"I like the sound of that."

"Good. So stop complaining and enjoy it. Is there anything I can get you?"

Rose lay back on the bed, stretching. "A telly wouldn't go amiss. How come we haven't got one yet?"

"Because we didn't have the money, because we didn't think of it, because we just haven't got round to it. One of those." The Doctor pulled off his coat and dropped it on the back of one of the chairs. "I can look into getting one."

"Please do," Rose said.

"Well, in the meantime … can I tempt you with a book, something to drink, something to eat?"

"Some food, and a book, please."

Rose snuggled down under the covers while the Doctor moved about the flat. She felt perfectly all right, really, but she wasn't one to complain when the Doctor was in the mood for spoiling her. "So when do you start work?"

"Once I'm satisfied you're back to normal." She heard him walk over to the bed. "Rose, that's my side."

She knew that. She wasn't about to tell him that she was nuzzling into his pillow purposefully, in order to inhale his Doctor scent. So she feigned tiredness. "You put me here. Not moving."

It didn't have quite the desired effect. The Doctor pulled the covers down and rolled her over onto her side of the bed, before pulling them up again. "Better?"

"Much," she lied grumpily.

"Here." He handed her a book, and a plate with a sandwich on. "Anything else before I go out to secure us a television?"

"Nope, that's it," Rose said. "You may leave my presence, loyal subject."

The Doctor, to her great surprise and pleasure, gently kissed her forehead and did a mock bow. "Then I'll be back soon."

When the Doctor returned, Rose was asleep, the sandwich half-eaten. He rescued the plate, which was in danger of disappearing in the quilt, set up the television, and then began working on the communicator.

Rose woke up late afternoon, when the Doctor was starting to think about dinner.

He had planned to do chicken casserole the previous evening, before they had been invited out to eat. It was probably a bit late to start one now.

"Hi," he said as Rose opened her eyes. "Did you have a nice sleep?"

"Mm. What's for dinner?"

The Doctor chuckled. "Chicken."

"What sort?"

"Improvised," the Doctor said.

"You mean you don't know."

"Well, I was somewhat distracted by my companion going to hospital," he retorted. "Perhaps you missed it."

Rose giggled. "Well, whatever you're doing, please hurry up, I'm famished."

The Doctor shook his head, wondering how she could be so hungry after doing nothing all day. "All right, all right."

He ended up frying the chicken and some vegetables with a few spices thrown in, half an ear on the television programme Rose was watching. Some game show. He'd gone off all game and reality shows since his short stint in Big Brother, but Rose still liked them—why, he wasn't sure. She'd obviously worked out the rules quite quickly, because she kept shouting instructions at the participants.

Humans.

When the Doctor finished cooking, he dished up, gave Rose hers and slipped into the bed beside her. She said nothing, but leaned against him as they both ate. The Doctor looked down at her—she looked nothing if not content to just sit with him. All thoughts of changing the channel disappeared.

All right. For Rose, he'd give this game show thing a go.