A/N: Slowly coming over the hump of this nasty little cold... Am able to focus for more than 30 minutes as a time now... haha

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for all of your wonderful comments and support!

~~oooOOOooo~~

There was a level of eerier silence in the console room of the Tenth Doctor's TARDIS. Despite there being four adults, one usually rambunctious child, and a white wolf, not a lot was actually being said as both Tom and the Doctor moved around the console station trying to make sense of the junkyard that was her current console. More than once, a man uttered a low curse in Gallifreyan as they were either zapped, pinched, or received no response at all for their efforts.

To the side, on a jump seat that looked together with silver-grey duct tape, sat Rose and Martha. Both of them adopted similar, but uniquely theirs positioning as they watched the slow dance of the Time Lords. Rose sat in a forward lean, her knees parted in a man-spreading fashion. Her elbows were on her knees and her chest was forward. Martha was in avery similar lean, except that her legs were crossed at the thigh in an almost delicate fashion.

Occasionally, Rose would lift a hand to gnaw at the edge of her thumbnail. Her eyes would lift to watch the movements of her husband as though scrutinizing his every move. There was analysis in her, almost as though she were making comparisons in her mind between he and the man who was now Human.

This really didn't go unnoticed by Martha, who flicked her eyes between the Doctor's failed attempts at working out the ship's controls and his wife who intently watched him. Occasionally her attention would drift toward the Cerulean soldier, and invariably a smile would cross her face. More than once his eyes drifted toward her and she'd be rewarded with a smile from him, but then shed blush and turn away, returning her attentions toward Rose.

"Regeneration?" she asked finally and quietly, almost a whisper, to Rose. "So they change completely?"

Rose kept her thumbnail at her lip and looked toward Martha with a lift in her brow. Her lips pursed in thought. The purse broke with a light kiss in the air. "Yes, and no." the last word extended long through lips ready to purse again. "Physically they change completely. Emotionally, well…" She let out a breath and flicked her eyes to her husband. "He assures me that they don't, but in my experience.."

"Your experience was unique," the Doctor offered from the console. There was frustration in his eyes, but it was clearly not directed toward her. "While, indeed, a Time Lord or Lady will experience physical changes, and changes to their personality, the core of who they are is supposed to remain."

Martha looked up at him. "Which means…?"

Tom entered the conversation at this point. "It means their soul, and the emotion toward everyone or everything that they care for remains intact. Such as my affection for the beautiful woman that saved my life a regeneration ago." He looked toward the Doctor, expecting an expression of agreement, but instead received a stare of annoyance. "I'm not mistaken, am I?"

"You certainly are if you expect me to allow you to continue to make my future companion uncomfortable with your overt displays of affection." He lifted a finger of warning and pointed at him. "So please stop."

Martha waved it off. "Nah," she drawled with a smile and a wave of her hand. "It's okay, Doctor. It might be a bit much, but it's nice to know I'm appreciated."

"Adored," Tom corrected with a light bow.

"Stalked," the Doctor amended with a growl. "Inappropriately harassed. Really, Cerulean, do you mind?" He kept his eyes on the other Time Lord for a long time before softening his gaze to shift his attention back toward Martha. "While I don't appreciate his approach at all, I do have to concur with Tom here regarding a Time Lord's affections remaining with him from incarnation to incarnation."

"But that doesn't mean that a Time Lord or Lady's chosen mate caries on those same affections toward a new incarnation," Tom added. "Which is why imprinting and bonding are so important." He looked to Rose, and then to Martha. "Imprinting allows a Time Person in regeneration to become … likeable … to their chosen one, rather than taking a stabbed guess at it." He finished his amendment with a wide grin.

"So then what happened?" Rose asked the Doctor without beating around the bush or being gentle about it. "I'm going to guess that you and me imprinted and then some when we were …" She waited for someone to pick up on the implication, but received only silence and curious looks. "Well, when we… you know."

"Made love," the Doctor finally offered. "Yes, Indeed. Physical mating is a few steps beyond imprinting. Marriage to my people if you will."

"Then what happened?" she asked again. "I mean with him." She pointed to the doorway in a gesture toward the Time Lord in the school beyond their doors.

"I don't know," he answered without looking at her.

Tom looked to the Doctor and then back to Rose. He was perplexed by the question, there was no doubt about that with the expression on his face. "Am I permitted to ask for clarification on this what happened situation?"

"No you may not," the Doctor answered firmly. "It's really quite irrelevant to anyone beyond Rose and myself."

"Coming from a chapter that are specialists in Bonding rites and telepathic imprinting…"

"Doesn't mean that you have full authority to interfere in the love life of myself or any future incarnations," the Doctor snapped in reply.

Tom nodded. His reply was slowly and softly spoken. "And yet you feel that you can take authority over my affections toward another. Not hypocritical in the slightest."

Rose appeared at Tom's side. She pulled her hair from her face with a swipe of her finger. "So how come the Doctor, when he changed, seemed to lose all interest in picking up where the former him left off when he exploded in regeneration fire?"

A frown creased his brow. "He shouldn't have," he suggested. "I'd imagine he would have been a little more eager after the fire to reaffirm your bond." He tilted his head. "He wasn't?"

"Rose," the Doctor butt in gently. "With all my respect to you, can I please ask that you don't discuss the relationship between you and I and any future incarnation of me with the Cerulean?" He looked back at the console. "We have much more important matters to attend to right now."

She thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans and shrugged into a slouch. "Okay, sorry," she breathed out in a very I just got chided manner. "So what are we doing then?"

"Not much," Tom admitted as he finally gave up on a lever and gave it an annoyed flick. "At least not with this junkyard mess."

The Doctor, despite struggling In much the same way as the young Lord, gave him an affronted glare. "Do be mindful of just who pilots this capsule." He swept his hands over the console. "Obviously I am perfectly adept at piloting this beautiful ship in the state that she's in." He looked at Rose, and then at Martha. "Am I not?"

Both women's eyes widened and their mouth's snapped shut. They shared an identical expression as they quickly and tightly shook their heads at each other.

"Well, ladies?" the Doctor pressed. "Have I not taken the two of you across the universe, all time and space, piloting this magnificent ship in the state that she's in right now?"

Rose slinked around Tom and moved toward her husband. With a smile she wrapped her arms round his arm. "I love you, Doctor. With all of my heart."

He looked down at her with an expression of understanding. "Still having navigational issues?"

"Little bit."

Beside her, Tom gave a grin. He clapped his hands together with almost a cheer. "Oh! I've heard of this!"

Martha appeared at his side. "Heard of what?"

He gestured toward the Doctor and Rose with both hands. "This thing that Humans do with their mates. The whole I love you thing when they want to appease rather than admit something isn't all as it should be."

The Doctor flashed him a glare.

Tom continued with an excited look toward Martha. "The Lord Doctor is seeking your confirmation that he is a very adequate navigational pilot of a Capsule, despite the thrown-together construction of the console. Rose doesn't want him upset that he's incorrect in that summation, and so instead she tries to appease him by telling him that she loves him in the hope that either the subject will change or that his pride in being assured that he is indeed loved by his mate will…"

"Stop!" the Doctor demanded hotly. His heat lowered to a petulant simmer. "We are not here for analysis nor a nature channel documentary."

Tom's eyes widened and how brows lifted curiously. 'I'm sorry, what?"

"Never mind," he breathed back as a sigh. "How about you head back to your capsule and fins some parts and supply that we can give to this ship to help my future in bringing her back to where she needs to be," He then levered a judgmental glare at him. "And while you're at it, please ask your capsule to provide you with appropriate clothing for the location and timeline she's landed you in."

Tom pursed his lips to a pucker. He gave the Doctor a firm nod. "Right. Of course." He walked to the door. "And my capsule is male, by the way. Do be more mindful about that going forward." He softened his gaze and his posture and looked toward Martha. "Would you like to accompany me, Beautiful?"

"No she would not," the Doctor answered sharply.

"I'd love to," Martha corrected quickly.

"I'd really prefer that you didn't," the Doctor said softly.

She put her hand on his arm. "I'm a big girl," she said with humour. "And quite capable of holding my own against sneaky Cerulean hands." She opened her mouth when he opened his to stop his protest. "I'll be fine, Doctor. Have some trust in me."

He gave her a nod. "Don't be long."

He watched with guarded eyes as the pair of them walked out of the TARDIS. Once gone, he then quickly turned back to the console. His tone of voice was suspicious and slightly out of sorts when he spoke to his wide without looking at her.

"Now that we are alone," he began. "Might I ask a question?"

"Sure," she replied with an eager chirp in her tone. "And then I'll ask you one…"

He still didn't look at her. "What do you want to know?"

"You first," she offered, not sensing for a moment anything was amiss, despite his now quiet tone.

He toggled a switch and kept his eyes on the monitor as it scrolled through a few screens of ship data. "A couple of days ago," he said after a swallow. "In your timeline. I felt something discomforting through the bond. Our bond."

Her mind hummed a sound of realisation that drew a slight wince. "Yeah. Jack suggested that you might have."

His voice was soft. "Who was it?"

"John," Rose answered with the same soft voice as he was using. "He was convinced that I was someone special to him and .." she breathed out. "And he kissed me."

The Doctor shook his head. "I wouldn't have felt it if it was him," he said with a slowly angering pout of his lip. "And neither would you."

She tilted her head at him. "So what're you accusing me of, then, Doctor?"

He didn't answer, just gave her a tired look of hurt.

She shook her head at him, defiance rising within her. "I'm not playing about," she clarified. "If that's what you're thinking." She took a long deep breath. "John kissed me at the campsite the other night. That's it. Planted one on me and the next thing I know I'm on the floor in pain feelin' like I wanted to die." She lifted her finger at him. "And that would've been a nice warning, you know. Might've been polite of you to let me know that I can't even get a kiss from a friend without bein' in pain."

"A kiss from a friend," he breathed out slowly. "Jack?"

"Oh," she laughed out darkly. "Don't you even go there. Jack was my best friend when we were travellin' together. Like a brother to me. Yes, he gives me a kiss when he sees me. Hell, he even kissed you back when you wore leather …" She narrowed her eyes. "And trusted me."

"Well what am I supposed to think?" he demanded. "You take off and disappear for two weeks…"

"It's been three days," she corrected sharply. "Don't be so overdramatic."

"Your friend Jack," he snapped with a seethe on that word, "is not nearly adept at Capsule communications as he thinks he is. The signal he sent reached Gallifrey a little more than two weeks after you'd left. So, yes, it's been two weeks for me." He huffed. "Two weeks of panic wondering where my family were, and then getting a telepathic warning that my wife is engaged in romantics with another man."

"That other man that you're panicking about is the Human version of you!" Her lip curled. "And don't you ever refer to Jack in the way you just did. Believe me, in your future he becomes someone very special to the both of us."

"Just how special?"

Her jaw gaped at the question. "How dare you."

"Do you understand what a soul-bond is, Rose?" He growled.

"Well obviously not," she chipped back. "Considerin' you didn't bother to properly explain it to me before you formed that bond."

"It ensures that two bonded mates will always be able to find each other, that they will always remain true to each other, and no matter where they end up along their mate's timeline or incarnation, they will always know and love each other." He moved close to her. "which means, if John, or any one of me chose to kiss you, there would be no pain of infidelity, because your soul would know him."

"Well then your whole bond thing is wrong," she challenged with a sniff and a tear in her eye. "Because he kissed me on the rocks, and I fell in pain. You don't believe me, ask Jack. He witnessed the whole thing." She stepped in against his chest, rolling up onto her toes to bring herself up high enough to glare into his eyes with hurt and offence. "You remember him, yeah? He was wearing a red, sequined mini-dress and stiletto shoes with sparkles on them. Red wig. More makeup on his face than I even own back on Gallifrey." She wiped at her eye with the back of her hand and stepped away from him. "Totally my type, apparently."

"Rose," he ventured apologetically.

"And you know what, when you ask him, do it on your own," she growled as she stalked toward the doors of the TARDIS. "I need to take a walk."

"No, Rose," he cautioned in a choked voice. "You can't go out there, it's not safe."

She let out a laugh but didn't turn around. "Yeah, and if I stay in here, then you'll be the one that's unsafe."

"Rose, don't go," he pleaded quietly as he met her at the door and took her hand.

She snatched her hand from his. "Don't touch me," she snarled, missing the metalling twang of something snall hitting the grating at her feet.. "Just leave me alone."

Rose pulled hard on the door and stepped out into the heat outside. She blew out a breath as a reaction to the heat, but continued on and out of the shed that held three Gallifreyan travel capsules.

The Doctor watched her go, his hand still held upward as though holding her hand, with a forlorn expression of regret on his face. He considered going after her to immediately sort out the problem so that she wasn't running away from him mad – particularly when there was another man willing to comfort her – but with their son napping deep inside the TARDIS, he couldn't.

"Papa?"

Speak of the Time Tot.

He turned with a smile to his son and stooped. He held open his arms to his sleepy little boy. "You're awake?"

He nodded, rubbing at his eye with his little fist. He yawned with a wide mouth. "Where'd mama go?"

He picked up his child and held him on his hip. He kissed at his temple and sighed as he inhaled a deep breath of his son's sleepy scent. "She went for a walk," he whispered softly. "She wont be long." He held his child and walked them toward the TARDIS kitchen. "Let's go make you something to eat."

On the grated floor behind him lay a bangle of Gold its clasp open.

~~oooOOOooo~~

John Smith leaned his hands on the top of the lecture table at the front of his classroom. Class ended fifteen minutes ago – a rambunctious group of Grade 10 students – and now he had a pile of test papers to read, grade, and then hopefully not fear for the state of humanity when he handed out the standard handful of F grades. He didn't get it. Physics really wasn't all that difficult a concept to grasp. At least not Grade ten curriculum, anyway. And considering these kids were all growing up in a town built for mining, and many would likely end up with apprenticeships at the mine, he expected a little more from them.

Well. Expecting any real focus from a bunch of fifteen year olds who were much more interested in talking about Jack Horn and his dress was a moot endeavour.

He let his eyes scan over the first page of one of the tests. This one from a student who tried her very best to get a handle on it all, but really couldn't seem to get it. He could already see several incorrect answers on the sheet.

"Hi John."

His eyes lifted and he instinctively smiled at the friendly greeting, although he wasn't really up for visitors right now. "Hi Joan."

She moved across the floor with a slink in her step. She stepped up to his side and pressed herself against his arm. "What'cha doing?"

"Getting ready to have my fears confirmed that the future of humanity is doomed," he answered with a sigh. "None of these kids have any enthusiasm for the curriculum at all."

She laughed with understanding and agreement. "You're preaching to the choir, John. Try teaching this lot about Shakespeare." She shook her head. "No interest at all."

"Too many hormones affecting their brain function," he huffed.

She hummed in song and slid her hands around his back toward his arse. "Talking of hormones," she purred.

His breath caught in surprise, but he didn't push her away. Instead he curled around her to walk her backward up against the side of the table. He dropped his hands to hook underneath her thighs and lifted her up onto the desk, bringing her chest to his face and her knees around his arms.

She hummed happily. "It looks like teacher might be swimming with the same hormones as his class."

He dropped his nose in between her breasts and breathed out a sharp breath through his nose. His inhale drew in the scent of her perfume – Yves St Laurant Opium – and he pressed a kiss to her breastbone. "I don't know," he admitted.

"you don't know what?" she asked him with a tightening of the wrap of her legs around his arms.

"I don't know," he repeated as he ran the tip of his nose along the along the edge of one of her breasts. His nose hit the edge of her bra and he found himself pulling backward from her. "I wish I did."

She curled her hadns around the back of his head, holding him close as he tried to back away. "Can I help you work it out?"

He lifted a hand to trace his fingertip along the line of her bra, It paused, and then circled the fading bruise of a love bite. "I didn't give you this," he remarked on a whisper.

"No," she agreed with him. "But you can if you want."

His eyes were locked on the bruise, all black and purple fading to yellow. His nose scrunched upward with distaste, but he made no effort to back away from her. "I really don't like to share," he said flatly.

"Are you looking for exclusivity, then?" she asked with a wriggle in her seat.

He shrugged. 'I really don't know what I'm looking for."

She let out a huff and dropped her hands from his head. "Jesus, John," she huffed out impatiently. Se ran her hands down along her body as though in presentation of herself. "Either you want this or you don't. You don't get to give me a hard time If I'm getting some attention from someone else if you're not willing to give me what it is I need."

His eyes flicked up. "So what is it you need then, Joan? Sex, or companionship?"

"What about both?" she answered, her arms folding to cross her chest. "You've been fun to play and fool around with, but damn you, I want more."

"What is it you want from me, exactly?"

She tilted her head at him. "I would think that's obvious, don't you?" She tightened the hold of her thighs around his chest in an attempt to pull him closer. She leaned her head down to his and whispered out a husky voice. "I'm offering myself to you, John, why aren't you taking me?"

Maybe because when I think of us like this I'm thinking of someone else, his mind supplied indignantly. "I don't know," he answered instead. "I really don't."

"Aren't you interested?" she asked with a curl in her lip. "Am I not good enough for you?"

"I don't know," he repeated again, this time with a frustrated grit in his teeth. He took a long stride back from her, long enough that his back hit up against the blackboard. "Of course you're good enough," he snarled. He ran his hand up and down in the air in front of her. "Look at you, Joan. You're a stunning woman. You've got a thrilling mind and a body…" He blew out an impressed breath through pursed lips. "Well, you've got a body that can drive a man insane…"

"Then what's your problem?" she asked with a blink in her eyes.

"I don't know," he seethed out again. "How many times do I have to say it?"

"It's her, isn't it?" she ventured finally, a curl in her lip that displayed her disgust in who this her was. She caught the flick of his eyes toward her, and the anger they held within. "Rose," she clarified.

"What about her?"

"You think you're in love with her, don't you?" She waved her hand at him before he could stammer through a denial. "No sense in denying it. Since she arrived, you've shut down from me almost completely." She pushed herself off the table and stood in front of him, her arms across her chest. "The last time I had your dick in my hand…"

"Is there any need to be so crass?" he snapped angrily with a glare down his nose at her. "I get it, you're offended, but there's no need to speak like that."

"As I was saying," she breathed out. "The last time you and I had any form of intimacy – and I'm being generous when I call it that, mind you – it wasn't my name you grit out through your teeth. It was hers." Her eyes hardened. "And when you said it." He eyes widened and then fell into a wince of remembrance. "It was the most passionate and desperate kiss I've ever had if I'm being honest with you." She let out a sigh. "Might've actually let you go though with what you intended on doing, but despite what all of you think about my looseness, I do have some standards. Knocking back a hard screw because you've gotten hard over another woman is one of them."

"I'm sorry," he said softly with honest apology.

"No," she disagreed with a soft shake of her head. "You're not. And you really shouldn't be, I guess. Love's love, and denial's denial." She lifted her eyes to him, the fold of her arms lessening in tightness. "It's not like you and I were anything more than occasional stress relievers."

His eyes flashed and then closed with regret.

She ran a hand though her hair. "I'll admit it would have been nice to actually get you in bed at least once. I reckon you might've been a wild one once you finally let go and succumbed to it."

"Unlikely," he admitted. "Control is the only thing that holds me together. Losing that would be my undoing."

"Then you should let yourself become undone." She held up her hand when she saw that he was going to retort. "And I'm not saying with me. Not anymore." She shrugged. "You don't like to share, and I won't let you pretend that I'm someone else."

"No," he agreed. "You're right." He exhaled and closed his eyes, levering his head backward to rest against the blackboard. "I wish I knew why I am so captivated by her. I've only just met her."

"Another life, perhaps," Joan offered with a shrug and a soft tone. She turned to stand beside him against the board. "Another time. Ancient souls in love and locked together searching for each other."

He snorted a laugh through his nose. "Whimsical nonsense," he purred in reply with a turn of his head to face her. "Even for an English teacher…"

"I should take offence to that remark, as I certainly resemble it." She sighed and dropped her hands to grip on the small ledge underneath the blackboard that held several broken sticks of chalk and a blackboard eraser. "But I dunno what else to tell you."

"She's married," he breathed out with disappointment. "To a Doctor."

"Hard to compete against that," she admitted. "Best advice I can offer you is to go out, get a screw, and forget about her." She looked down with a laugh. "And no, I'm not offering. I can only take so much rejection in a day." She pushed herself from the wall. "But it's a good suggestion nonetheless."

"Nah," he drawled. "Not really my thing."

"Yeah, I know." She thrust her hands into the pockets of her short jean skirt and shrugged. "First hand in fact." She stopped when she caught sight of Steve and Mary standing at the doorway. "Oh hey," she said by way of greeting. "Didn't see you two there."

Steve nodded slowly, his eyes a shade of curious darkness. "Did we interrupt something?"

Joan lifted her head and gave it a shake. "Nah. Just me and John breaking up."

"You'd have to actually be together to actually break up," Mary offered in a wistful tone. Her smile was one of a darkness that matched Steve's eyes. "Why'd you two decide to call it quits before you even got started?"

"That's none of your business," John snapped.

Joan wasn't quite as guarded. "He's in love with someone else," she said with a sigh.

Steve tilted his head curiously. "And who is that?" He lifted his head and sniffed at the air, his attention heading out the doorway and onto the ground below. "Hello…"

Joan didn't notice his inattention. "John's got a hardon for Rose – Jack and Martha's friend."

"Does he now?" Steve asked with a grin as he slid his eyes back to Joan, and then to John. "Interesting that she's only recently arrived."

"Love at first sight, apparently."

His inhale was through his nose and he purred as though smelling a fine meal. "Perhaps we should arrange to have the two of them locked together in a dark room for a long while." He blinked slowly. "See what comes out … what comes of it."

Mary agreed. "Can be arranged, John Smith. If you want."

"Kidnapping isn't my game," he said with a shake in his head.

"No," Steve breathed out. He caught sight of Rose walking an upset stalk across the grounds and flicked a look toward Mary. "But I'm not incredibly opposed to it, myself."

John's brow tightened. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"Nothing," he answered with a shrug. "But if you will excuse me, John and Joan. Mary and I have something we need to deal with."

John shrugged. "Yeah. Sure. See you tomorrow."

Mary gave him a smile. "Maybe we'll see you a little later tonight instead. Wouldn't mind catching up for a drink later."

He shrugged. "Whatever. I'll be home."

Mary took Steve's hand and led him outside the class. They stood on the balcony a moment, watching Rose walk across the grass with her wolf following protectively beside her. Both on=f them drew in a deep inhale, purring at the scent of Time that poured out of her.

"If his beloved is in peril," Steve began.

"Then the Time Lord will emerge,' Mary finished. She turned to him. "Let's inform Mother and father that we've identified both Time Lord and Mate."

"We'll take them tonight…"