'Let's go' was not the best choice of words, as it turned out. After Christmas Day, Rose wanted to stay on Earth for a little while. I understood that. We humans needed some down time after watching our friend burst into flames and then emerge a different person AND THEN stopping an alien invasion.

The Doctor tried not to show how much this worried him, and failed, generally. He spent most of this Earthbound vacation in the TARDIS, and most of that time under the console. It wasn't a lie, we learned, that he needed to repair the TARDIS. After all, she had to fly into a Dalek fleet under heavy fire, then make a pilotless flight, then had her console ripped open. We had put a lot of strain on the old girl. I suspected, although never bothered asking, that the damage was the reason the TARDIS had shied away from my attempts at a stronger mental connection. She was probably in pain.

As it was, the TARDIS couldn't even manifest the back rooms for a while. Christmas night, I slept on the Tyler's surprisingly comfortable couch burritoed in as many blankets as the Tylers were willing to spare. Rose had teased me pretty thoroughly about the fact that I still wanted more. What can I say? I like comfort, fight me.

I slept alright, as it were, but nightmare after nightmare kept waking me up. Not the memory kind of nightmare, just the 'oh, God. I had almost died' kind of nightmare. I hardly survived the exhaustion the next day (Boxing Day, as Rose, and then Jackie, and then Mickey called it).

I also barely endured the day after Boxing Day being mothered by Jackie Tyler.

She was constantly hovering, doting on me. The fact that I didn't sleep well probably didn't help my case that I was 'fine. Really. I'm ok'. Jackie meant well, but it was suffocating and annoying. As nice as sympathy felt usually, I'd had enough of it, thanks very much. Not that I felt I could actually tell her to stop. Mothers were just like that sometimes.

On the day after the day after Christmas, I ate breakfast in the flat, then disappeared out the door while Rose and Jackie were cleaning up.

I used my new key to open the TARDIS doors, and slammed the doors behind me like I was being chased by a giant monster. The Doctor popped up from the grating immediately, eyes wide in panic.

"Katelyn? What happened?" he asked.

"The world's not in danger, sorry," I said sheepishly. Stupid Katelyn. He wasn't Jack. He didn't know how overdramatic I could be. "It's just me suffering." The Doctor calmed down and raised a curious eyebrow.

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Jackie Tyler will be the death of me," I said. My grim tone was probably a little overdone, but if it kept being overdone, maybe the Doctor would realize I was acting.

"With her cooking or something more targeted?" the Doctor asked. I opened my mouth and then snapped it shut again, torn between my natural instinct to defend someone who didn't really deserve that attack, and my desire to keep pretending I was a victim.

"Let's just say, if I have to go back into that flat, I will throw myself out the window," is what I decided to say. I let my tone go even more exaggerated, just in case the Doctor didn't understand that I was joking.

"The flat's on the fourth floor," the Doctor said slowly.

"Bold of you to assume that would stop me," I said. The Doctor laughed. "I just… she keeps trying to-to coddle me," I complained. "I just want to be treated like a normal human being, thank you very much. I've already had time-" I only realized I was about to go on a rant when I noticed how amused the Doctor looked. "Oh, shut up and give me a job so I have an excuse not to go back up there. I don't care if it's useless. Tell me to..." I waved my hands around. "I don't know, rearrange the Library or something."

"You just want Jackie to be mad at me instead of you," the Doctor accused. I almost flinched back and denied. A few days ago, that would have been a real accusation, something he said to get a rise out of me. But today…

Today he said it tentatively, like he was worried I would actually still take it that way. Oh, I see. The Doctor was toeing the line of what our (I hesitate to say) friendship was, trying to see if it was too fragile for teasing. Well, in my mind, banter should never be off the table in a friendship that was meant to last more than a conversation.

"Honestly hadn't crossed my mind," I said with as much innocence as I could muster, which was quite a lot, as it turned out. Because it actually hadn't crossed my mind. "But since you mention it, yeah." The Doctor rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Not that Jackie needs any help coming up with a reason to be mad at you." The Doctor scoffed his agreement, and dove back under the grating.

Before either of us could say anything else, like the Doctor actually giving me a job, the TARDIS flashed me an image of what I assumed was the galley, although it looked a bit different. More properly a 21st century kitchen. One with granite countertops and light colored wood instead of just 21st century appliances wedged in between dark paneling. With the image, the TARDIS sent a push to go there, and something like excitement.

The Doctor's head popped out from the grating again. "The galley?" he asked.

"Apparently," I answered, equally confused. I wracked my brain for any possible reason the TARDIS would be excited to get me into the galley. Unless she could remember something about me that I couldn't at the moment, which I thought pretty unlikely. I mean, I enjoyed cooking as much as the next person, but I didn't really want to just cook for the sake of cooking, you know? Although, it's not like cooking was the only thing one could do in a kitchen.

"Holy shit," I whispered when the memory came to me. "How could I just forget that?"

"Forget what?" the Doctor asked, apparently able to hear my whispering.

"I love to bake," I confessed. "I have, like, seven recipies completely memorized, including the changes I made." I paused, just opening and closing my mouth for a minute, unable to say more. "How could I just forget that."

"Katelyn," the Doctor said cautiously. "Four months ago it took effort for you to remember your own name."

"Yeah," I dismissed. "But that was four months ago. I thought I'd gotten better." Before I had the chance to slip into and then wallow in self pity, the TARDIS shoved the image of the galley in my head again. "OK!" I threw my arms up in the air. "I'm going!" I started walking toward the hall, ignoring the Doctor's chuckles. "Lord in heaven above, your consciousness exist across the entire Vortex, have some patience once in a while!"

...

There was a bunch of bananas at the back of the fridge. They were overripe and browning, which is probably why they were back there. I wouldn't put it past Rose to have hidden them. The bananas were absolutely too ripe to eat, but that would not stop the Doctor. But they were perfect for baking, and banana bread happened to be one of my memorized recipes. It was simple, quick, and I got to stab bananas with a fork.

Would this look like I was trying too hard? I thought to myself as I gathered ingredients. Cause I don't mean to be trying much at all. I took a step back and looked at the ingredients I'd laid out, and decided I didn't really care. I wanted to make banana bread, damn it, and I didn't give a single shit if the Last of the Time Lords thought I was making it for him.

I pushed my sleeves up my arms and went to work.

...

Precisely, 38 minutes and 10 seconds after Katelyn had run into the TARDIS to hide from Jackie, a delightful smell drifted into the console room. Since the Doctor was currently between repair jobs, he ventured down the corridor toward the galley.

Katelyn was pulling a pan that the Doctor was pretty sure was a bread pan out of the oven. Whatever was in the pan smelled really good. Although, fresh baked goods almost always smelled good, he supposed. Oh, maybe this body liked baked goods again? It had been a few bodied since he's had a fondness for sugar stuffed carbs. He should take Rose and Katelyn to the Andorra system. Not first, but eventually. That system was famous for its baked goods, and maybe Katelyn could even get a recipe book while she was there. After all, if she liked to bake-

Woah. This body had a gob even in his own head, apparently.

"What'd you make then?" the Doctor asked, walking across the galley toward Katelyn. She set the pan down and pulled the oven gloves off her hands before she spoke.

"Banana bread." At the mention of his favorite and the best (Really, Rose they're very versatile as berries go) fruit, the Doctor reached for the pan, eager for a piece.

Katelyn's hand slapped his away before he could reach very far.

She looked as shocked as he felt, staring at her hand like it had betrayed her in a life threatening situation. "T-too hot," she said lamely. "The bread, I mean. The pan hasn't cooled yet. You'll burn your hands."

They were silent for a few moments before Katelyn burst into laughter. Her laughing first allowed the Doctor to analyze how ridiculous this situation was, and then he was laughing to.

Precisely, 2 minutes and 4 seconds later, that was where Rose found them. They were still laughing, although now Katelyn seemed to be gasping in breath whenever she could and looked increasingly frustrated that everytime she and the Doctor made eye contact, she burst out laughing again. The Doctor wasn't out of breath, but he was having similar trouble stopping his laughter.

Rose didn't know what they were laughing about, but that was the moment when she knew the tension, for lack of a better word, that had been ever present in the Doctor and Katelyn's friendship was gone again. Hopefully for good this time.

...

Three days, 8 hours, and 13 minutes later, while Jackie was at work, the three remaining members of Team TARDIS, as the Doctor had occasionally heard Katelyn refer to them, were still stuck on Earth. While the TARDIS was technically fixed up enough to fly, she had shocked the Doctor hands when he's so much a thought in the general direction of the dematerialization lever. He was starting to get antsy, started to feel the need to run again, but he couldn't leave. Not with Rose wanting to stay until New Years and the TARDIS refusing to let him take off. So now he was in the Tyler flat hanging out (read: pouting).

Technically, he, Rose, and Katelyn were playing a card game Katelyn had taught them (One he'd never learned before, and was quietly informed by Rose it was a game Katelyn's own grandfather had invented. It had never gotten outside of the family), but there were so many breaks between turns that they had to keep starting over (Which was good for the Doctor's pride, since Katelyn somehow kept winning).

On what had turned into such a break before Katelyn's turn, the Doctor noticed she had been staring out the window for a full minute and 23 seconds, apparently completely forgetting it was her turn next.

"Penny for 'em?" he asked. Katelyn startled and turned around, like she'd been in her own world. What with them playing a game so closely tied to her family, the Doctor was worried she might have been.

"I…" She shrugged. "Just trying to wrap my head around time travel, is all."

On her side of the table, Rose laughed. "Oh, is that all?" Katelyn smiled.

"I mean, generally, I get it," Katelyn said. She started fiddling with the cards in her hands. She did that, the Doctor had noticed now that he was paying attention. When she was having trouble articulating her thoughts, she played with whatever was closest to her hands. "It's just, sometimes there are weird things. Anachronisms. Like, it's been…" She scrunched her face, thinking. "...four days since I turned 19. My birthday is in May." She gestured out the window. "It's December."

"I wasn't even on Earth for my birthday," Rose dismissed. It took her two shuffles of her own hand for Katelyn's words to sink in. "Hold on. When was your birthday?"

"When we were at Willow Brook," Katelyn said. She finally fanned her cards back out in her hands, ready to pick the game back up. "I didn't realize until you a-" Her voice cut off.

The Doctor looked away guiltily, although tried to keep his expression neutral. Katelyn and Jack had been much closer with each other than either of them had been with himself or with Rose. She'd lost her best friend on the Game Station, and he hadn't even considered how that would affect her. A few months ago, Katelyn had lost everything and everyone she'd ever known and now she'd lost Jack too. Because of him. Because she'd found his TARDIS.

"I didn't realize until after you were asleep," Katelyn finished with far less enthusiasm than she started with.

No one really knew how to respond to the reminder that Team TARDIS was permanently down one member. The Doctor considered telling the women why he'd left Jack behind in the year 200,100. They clearly both already knew he wasn't dead. He'd said that much already. And if he told the truth, Rose might be mad at him, but only for a bit. They might make him go back to say goodbye, but he was sure they'd understand. Brilliant, the both of them.

Before the Doctor had a chance to maybe tell them, Katelyn sniffed (an excellent way to seem like she wasn't about to cry) and looked up from her cards again. "How did that story end anyway?" Katelyn asked.

"What story?" Rose asked. Katelyn smiled, but it only mostly made it to her eyes.

"I couldn't sleep, so the Doctor was telling me about one of his adventures." Katelyn smile grew every so slightly as she spoke. The last of the sadness started to fade from her eyes. The Doctor felt a bit like he'd been exposed as soft, but really, who was here to see it? Rose? As if she didn't already know. "But I fell asleep before he finished." She turned back to him, setting her cards down again. Clearly, she was expecting a long end to the story.

"Oh, I defeated him," the Doctor said simply. "Problem solved."

Of course, he didn't want to and never would admit that he didn't really remember what had happened. It had been a long time since he'd had curls and worn a long scarf and a hat and traveled with Sarah Jane Smith. Several centuries, at least. His memories were all a bit vague, that far back.

Katelyn did not look happy with that. "Oh, you - you don't say?" she sputtered, indignant that he'd given such a dismissive answer. "Ho- Wha- You should write that shit down." Rose was starting to giggle, so he couldn't really be that mad. "'I defeated him'. Fucking New York Times bestseller ending, right there. Truly, you are a master of storytelling, Doctor." Honestly, he was having a hard time trying not to smile himself. It was a good thing to see Katelyn expressing an emotion that wasn't loss. "I mean, 'I defeated him'. Pretty sure that's the ending of at least three of my favorite novels."

"Are you done?" the Doctor asked, finally falling in his attempts to hide a smile.

"Not remotely," Katelyn said, swinging her arms open. "I can probably go for…" She checked his - Well, hers now - watch. "Oh, about another ten minutes or so."

The Doctor didn't doubt that she'd have enough material to go on for, oh, another minute at most, but she never got a chance, because that was when Jackie got home from work. Since it was nearly sunset, that also meant it was time for the humans to get dinner ready (the Doctor had not yet to learn this new body conformed to a human eating schedule), which meant Katelyn and Rose disappeared into the kitchen to do 'damage control' as literally only the Doctor called it.

He should go, he thought. He'd have been gone already had it been a few days ago, and he hadn't regenerated yet. Leave the domestics to the humans, and all that. He should really dash back down to the TARDIS and pretend he was making himself useful with the repairs he'd already told Rose and Katelyn he'd finished.

If he were being honest with himself, however, he really wanted to stay in this tiny flat in the Powell Estates and share a homemade dinner with his friends (And one of his friend's mothers, but there really wasn't anything he could do about that).

This Doctor found he didn't mind domestics anymore. If he were honest, his last body's chagrin for things like human attachment, and family dinners, and visiting his companion's friends and family (because he'd only ever sent Rose to visit hers) was mostly just a remnant of the Time War. He hadn't really cared for the rules of his people before the war, had frequently flaunted how little he cared for laws of non-involvement and the like. But then he was the Last, and suddenly it mattered. He'd never stop helping people. He never could, even if he tried. But he could pretend he was as high and mighty as he was supposed to be.

But for what? Who was he trying to impress? His obsession with avoiding knowledge of his own future had caused him to abandon one of his companions. He'd left Katelyn Laurin alone, without help, without a goodbye, just to get her away from him.

His need to be a good Time Lord had caused him to be terrible to Rose too, although on much rarer occasions. Yelling at her for not understanding the implications of saving her father, even though he hadn't properly explained them. Always pushing her away when she tried to understand him, or when he'd gone further than was 'allowed'. For a human, honestly.

No. The Time Lords were gone. There was no one to tell him what he was doing was wrong. He could do whatever he wanted now.

So the Doctor didn't move. He stayed sitting on the floor where he was. He cleaned up the deck of cards (Good thing they'd never finished that last round. Somehow, Katelyn had a winning hand again), and waited.

The look of surprised delight on Rose Tyler's face when she came back in to set the table was well worth any punishment the High Council could have come up with anyway.

...

Dinner was nice, as far as dinners went. It wasn't anything fancy, but then, what could really live up to all the exotic places the three of us not confined to London had eaten. It didn't need to be fancy, like Willow Brook wasn't fancy.

It was unusual that the Doctor had stayed. Well, it was unusual for Nine. Maybe Ten just did domestics.

Well, apparently, not all domestics, since as soon as Jackie had stacked up the plates and handed them to me, the Doctor was trying to sneak out the front door.

"Now, don't give me any of that," Jackie said before the Doctor could even get a word out of his open mouth or a hand on the door handle. "You ate with us, you're gonna help with clean up." I giggled, although hid it behind my hand as the Oncoming Storm, the Last of the Time Lords, the Destroyer of Worlds, the Bringer of Darkness, the Beast of Trenzalore, the Imp of the Pandorica, the Predator of the Daleks, the Shadow of the Valeyard (even if he hadn't earned some of those epithets yet) followed me wordlessly into the Tyler's kitchen. He was, apparently, unwilling to argue with the force of nature that was Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Tyler, Mother.

Jackie's dishwasher had broken the day before, and I'd volunteered to be on dish washing duty until she could get a plumber to come out and fix it. (The Doctor had offered to fix it himself, and gotten a firm, long winded, and rather rude no from Jackie. Although, after his shenanigans with her toaster, I really couldn't blame her.)

I went to work like I'd been doing the whole time, only really acknowledging the Doctor next to me when I passed him the dish towel and a washed plate to dry with said dish towel. It was life as usual, so I didn't even realize I was humming until the Doctor asked me what song I was humming.

"Oh, um…" I passed him another plate to dry and checked the little window into the kitchen. Jackie and Rose had already finished clearing the table and were now arguing about what to watch on the TV. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been humming that same song for four days," the Doctor said.

"It's been stuck in my head," I mumbled. "And I don't even know all the words, which is the worst."

"Couldn't you just… listen to it?" the Doctor asked, reasonably.

"No," I said quietly. I was sure the Tylers weren't listening, but I still didn't want to risk it. "The song doesn't exist in this universe."

"Oh," the Doctor said, equally quietly. "Out of curiosity, what was it called?" I snapped my eyes back to the plates to avoid looking at the Doctor, pretending there was a stubborn spot on the bowl I was cleaning.

"'Song for Ten'," I answered. "Bit of a theme song for you, I guess. It's annoyingly catchy and playing on loop in my brain."

The Doctor's face twitched like he was fighting down a smile. "What was it about?" he asked, cheeky. Well fine then. Two could play at that game.

"Oh," I said casually. "It's a love song for Rose." The Doctor sighed, but he probably knew there was no point in denying to me. He'd asked me about it before, after all. "It's really sappy now that I think about it. Calls her your guiding star and-" I snapped my mouth shut immediately when I saw the Doctor's face. He wasn't blushing, exactly, but he looked well on his way and very unhappy with that reality.

Shit. I had to keep reminding myself how fragile this… friendship? I guess friendship was the right word. But whatever you wanted to call my relationship with the Doctor, it was undeniably fragile. Casually referencing the fact that I knew some of his inner thoughts like they were my own? Teasing him with the very thing that had kept up from being friends in the first place? Dangling his love for Rose over his head? A decision of pure, unfiltered stupidity, not to mention cruel.

"Sorry," I whispered. Suddenly the dishes were very interesting again. "It's… I'm just not sure where to stop. And I mean that, honestly." I took a deep breath to steel myself and meet the Doctor's eyes again. "You have to tell me when I go too far. I'll stop," I promised.

The Doctor's eyes were searching, like he was staring into my very soul. I held his gaze, so he could see the promise that I really did mean.

Friendship with Rose Tyler and Jack Harkness had been easy. They didn't hold back from me, and I didn't hold back from them. But they were human, like me, so we had some base to work on. They knew when to call me out, or when to let me stew and realize I'd done something wrong on my own time. I knew when to tell them to stop, when to leave them alone. I hadn't had to work on earning their friendship, and I hadn't had to work to maintain it.

Friendship with the Doctor was not going to be easy. It would take work, from both of us. I'd have to reign myself in from banter and jokes, more than I was today, but less than I had before. We'd need to talk about so many things. We'd need to work, and it couldn't all come from my side.

"I will," the Doctor promised. I nodded, and that was the end of the conversation. We went back to washing the dishes, and I made a conscious effort to hum a different song.

...

The day after our conversation in the kitchen, the Doctor found me on the roof on Jackie's building, curled in on myself, crying as silently as I could. I had no idea what had possessed him to come looking for me on a roof at 2 AM, but there he was.

The Doctor sat down next to me, blocking the wind that had been trying to freeze my tears to my face. I didn't acknowledge him, just kept pretending I was stargazing. My vision was a bit too blurry for that, and I'd left my glasses on my bedside table.

"I can tell when you're crying," he offered, unprompted. He paused for me to answer, but my throat was still too tight to really get any words out, so I said nothing. "The TARDIS doesn't let me get where I want to go. I'm aiming for the music room to see if this body has any particular proclivity for an instrument, and all I can find is the console room," he explained. I huffed out the closest thing to laughter I could make.

"Doesn't explain how you knew I was on the roof," I said. The stars were looking a little less wet, but they remained too far away for me to see without my glasses.

"It would seem," the Doctor said on an exhale, like he was unsure he should tell me what he was about to. "This body is a bit more telepathic than my last one. And you have a very unique mental signature."

"So you can find me wherever I am?" I asked. As a fellow touch telepath, I knew the 'touch' part of the name was a bit of a misnomer. You had to touch to read, but you could browse from any distance, as long as it wasn't the other side of the world, or something else too far away from you.

"Within reason," the Doctor answered. "I don't really know what my limits are yet."

"Bigger than mine, probably," I offered. I was enjoying the fact that the Doctor hadn't called me out on my crying yet. "Time Lord superiority and all that."

"What happened?" he asked softly. Ah. Not letting the conversation drift anymore than. Fine. I guess I was ready to talk. It wasn't that I didn't want the guilt off my chest, but I didn't want the Doctor to know I felt guilty. He'd try to get me to stop, try to take my guilt for his own. I didn't want that. He didn't deserve it.

But it's not like I could talk about this with Rose Tyler. She didn't, couldn't know I knew the future. Not yet.

"I just… Jackie's stopped watching me like a hawk 'cause I've been sleeping on the TARDIS again and…" The breath I took shuddered it's way into my lungs before shaking its way back out. It barely helped steady me. "I had another nightmare, and I couldn't get back to sleep, so I came up here to remember," I explained, brushing may hands across my face. "To mourn. The people who died on the Game Station."

"Katelyn-" the Doctor started, warning. Amazing how after only paying attention for these last few days, he could read me like a book. Well, I guess I had been expecting he'd fight back against the guilt anyway. It's not like I was doing my best to hide it right now.

"Their deaths are on my hands," I insisted. "I deserve to know, and they deserve to be remembered."

"No part of that was your fault," the Doctor said firmly. It was nice that he was being kind to me now, but I really didn't want to hear it at that precise moment.

"Even the people in my game?" I asked. I'd been looping their names over and over in my head. Quentin Matthews. Aringod Rockefeller. Quentin Matthews. Aringod Rockefeller. Quentin Matthews. Aringod Rockefeller.

The Doctor didn't really have anything to say to that, so I kept going.

"And beyond them." I took another shaky breath, and it helped only as much as it had helped the first time. "Tell me, Doctor, was any part of that a fixed point in Time?"

"No, but-"

"So I knew all of that would happen and could have changed any part of it and didn't." I didn't snap at the Doctor. This was an explanation. I had to make him understand. "That makes it my fault."

"Katelyn-"

"You're not gonna convince me otherwise, Doctor," I snapped this time. "So don't bother trying." The air was heavy with silence for a few moments after that. I let go of my legs, forcing my posture to relax. "Sorry. I shouldn't have - I'm not mad at you."

"You should be," the Doctor said. "I should have listened to you, or wasted less time getting out of my game, but..." I opened my mouth to tell him 'let it go' in a few more words, but didn't get the chance. "Daleks," he hissed, like the word was poison on his tongue. "I couldn't leave you, I couldn't leave anyone with Daleks."

"I know, I knew that. I…" Did I dare tell him I knew protecting Rose was probably suicide? But surely, he must know already, right? No real harm confirming what he already knew. "I wasn't expecting to be alive for you to find me," I admitted. "I was sure I'd be shot on sight, and I'd made my peace with that. Cause then you'd have no one to go get, and the Delta Wave could be… refined or whatever."

The Doctor took a deep breath. I could almost picture the pained expression I didn't dare turn to see on his face. "But they didn't shoot you," he prompted.

"No," I breathed, still not quite sure, despite the fact that I was currently breathing, that I could believe it. "They said I wasn't a human shield, emphasis on human, and called me the 'Time Lord Reborn'." I made air quotes around the title. "Whatever the hell that means."

"You really don't know?" the Doctor asked. I finally looked away from the stars and at him. He looked… dare I say hopeful? Oh, it wasn't fair of the universe, any universe, to string him along like this. To make him think he wasn't the last of his people.

"I really don't," I said. I wished I could give him a clearer answer. To definitively tell him those Dalek's were just insane, that I was sure they were wrong, but I couldn't. Or even to tell him yes, I'd secretly been a Time Lord this whole time, just so he wouldn't be alone anymore. "This is a mystery for me too."

The heavy silence came back, because for once in his life, the Tenth Doctor was doing his thinking in his head. It made me suddenly very nervous.

"It's not just that it makes no sense," I started again. Ah, deflection. One of my favorite defense mechanisms. The very one I'd been clinging to at the beginning of this conversation. "But it's a bit of a shit title, 'Time Lord Reborn'."

"What makes you say that?" the Doctor said, sounding much more insulted than he looked. Ah, so he was leaning into the deflection. Good. It was too early for this conversation, both in the day and in our lives.

"Well it's true of any Time Lord that's not on their first body, isn't it?" I reasoned. The Doctor hummed, thinking for a moment.

"Well, yes, I suppose, but wouldn't that imply that in this case, 'Reborn' doesn't refer to regeneration in the first place?" he countered. I blinked a few times.

"Huh, hadn't thought about it like that," I admitted. Somehow, somewhere in the depths of my mind, I had an extremely vague, far away memory of an episode I had liked. The harder I tried to grab at the memory, the more it slipped away. Oh, well. Couldn't have been that important if I couldn't think of it now.

"Either way, I can't figure out how any title involving the words 'Time' and 'Lord' together, in that order, could possibly apply to me," I dismissed. "I mean Time Lords didn't exist in my universe. Gallifrey didn't exist." I gestured widely. "The Kasterborous constellation didn't even exist, for God's sake."

"How do you know?" the Doctor countered, far more calmly than I would have, or had, expected. But that infernal spark of hope was still there in his eyes.

"I-" I stopped. I was dead certain they didn't, but it's not like I actually had any proof. "I guess I don't. I was a history major, not an astrophysics major." I paused, as an old memory made itself known to me again. "Huh, it was my mom's first Doctorate though." The Doctor looked distinctly impressed with that.

"She had more than one?" the Doctor asked. "Isn't that unusual for humans in the 21st century?"

"Oh, my mother was not a common woman," I answered. "She had a Bachelor's in general mathematics, minor in Astronomy, Doctorates in astrophysics and communications. Then, when she was done with that, she went and got herself a Masters in Early Childhood Education, and taught fifth graders."

"Fifth graders are…?"

I laughed. "Sorry, guess I forgot you were an alien for a second. Fifth graders are around 9 or 10 years old."

The Doctor blew out a whistle. "I think I would have liked your mum."

And the grief was back full force. The Doctor must have been able to sense it, because his face immediately shifted to regret and guilt.

No. I was done with the circular conversation.

"I'll make you a deal," I offered. "Completely unrelated to that conversation about my mom," I added at his confused look. "Or this 'Time Lord Reborn' business."

"I'm listening."

"If I'm not allowed to blame myself for what happened on the Game Station, then I won't." I locked eyes with that Doctor again. "On one condition: you're not allowed to blame yourself either." The Doctor sucked in a breath, not quite a gasp, but definitely a noise of surprise.

"Katelyn-" he protested.

"Eoup." I held up my hand and snapped my fingers shut. "Not one word. That's my final offer."

"Time Lords have-"

"If you say anything even resembling 'a duty to Time', I'm gonna throw you off this roof," I deadpanned. "Doctor one of us knew exactly how each and every person on that station was going to be killed. One of us went onto that station knowing there would be Daleks. One of us-"

"Didn't know she was going to be called 'Time Lord Reborn'," the Doctor countered before I was even done with that sentence. "You're not infallible, Katelyn. You don't know everything."

"Neither are you and neither do you," I shot back. I didn't raise my voice though. This wasn't meant to be an argument, so I wasn't going to make it one. "If I'm not allowed to blame myself, than neither are you," I insisted. The Doctor was silent, eyes searching my face for something other then the relentless determination I was giving him. He must not have found it, because he sighed and dragged a hand down his face.

"Fine," the Doctor conceded.

I think we both knew, in all reality, that we would still both blame ourselves for what happened on the Game Station. But it would only be done in the privacy of our own thoughts, and that wasn't the point anyway. The point was the principle of the thing. The point was that we were looking out for each other, and here was the proof. This was each of us trying to protect the other, like friends did.

It occured to me, suddenly, I could have said the same thing to him four months ago, could have better explained myself right after WWII or right before instead of letting him run. Then, he would have understood that I knew what I was doing. He - we - could have beat that fear early and come up with a plan, together, to stop the Daleks. To save the people on the Game Station. To save Jack Harkness.

I exhaled a long winded, pained noise. "What this time?" the Doctor asked.

"It's just… four months of us avoiding each other to the point of fear and hate, and if we had just sat down and had this one conversation it could have always been like this." I turned to him and gave him a tiny smile that wasn't as forced as I had been expecting. "We could have always been friends." The smile snapped away. "A-assuming that's what we are now," I rushed to say.

The Doctor offered me his own small smile in return. "I'd like to be," he said gently. My smile was bigger this time, and entirely genuine, which was a definite bonus.

"Good," I declared. "I'd like to be too."

"Good," the Doctor parroted. I yawned suddenly. "Now, back to the TARDIS with you. It's late, you're tired, and I'm not carrying you again." I chuckled and stood up. The wind picked up slightly without a Time Lord blocking it, and I shivered. It really was cold up here. I had to stop trying to prove my dominance over London's winter by not wearing a coat.

Quite abruptly after having that thought, I found myself wearing a coat. It was much too long, and the sleeves hung nearly half a foot off the ends of my arms, but it was warm and really helped cut the wind.

"I'm gonna drag it," I yawned.

"It's just to the TARDIS," the Doctor dismissed. He looked so much smaller in just his suit, so much less 'Lonely God', so much more human. "I'm pretty sure the coat will survive."

...

New Year's Eve crept up on all of us except the Doctor. He was so clearly ready to get out and off into the stars again. Jackie was not ready for her daughter to leave. So not ready, in fact, that she had forgotten to worry about me for several hours. I was liberating.

Rose and I were ready to hit the road (hit the Vortex?) again, but we were equally ready to spend this one last day on Earth getting tipsy and celebrating the start of a new year. We collectively elected not to mention to anyone that it was really halfway through May for both of us. After all, what was a calendar to a time traveler other than a way to tell where you'd landed?

Jackie invited a few friends over to count down to the New Year. That, of course, meant the Doctor and I seriously considering hiding in the TARDIS, and both being forced to stay by the power of Rose Tyler asking nicely, because the Doctor can never say no to her and I live in constant fear of disappointing my friends.

This did not stop us from both hiding in Jackie's kitchen for most of the night however. The Doctor had learned, from stealing my wine glass, that this him didn't mind the taste of alcohol. "New Year, new skill," I'd declared, and started raiding Jackie's cabinets for the ingredients to some of the mixed drinks Jack had made for Rose and I before.

"It's like Jack couldn't have fun without engaging in at least one human vice at a time," the Doctor said. I didn't say anything back. The Doctor didn't mention Jack again.

About five hours before midnight, Rose finally came in and tried to drag us out. Well, that's what she said she was trying to do, but she seemed perfectly content to hang out in the kitchen with us.

"Won't you get too drunk?" she asked as I passed the Doctor a Rum and Coke.

"Nah," I dismissed. "I'm only having a sip, and he metabolizes it too quick to get drunk."

"Unless there's ginger," the Doctor provided, making a face that told me he did not like Rum and Coke. I held up the bottle I'd been about to pour.

"Is there ginger in spiced rum?" I asked, trying to read the tiny font on the back. This must not have been Earth rum, because they were definitely not english letters on the label.

"Usually," Rose said. I poured the rum anyway, and turned to offer the drink to Rose. She, however, was already holding the Doctor's rejected Rum and Coke. I jumped up to sit on the counter and picked the spiced rum drink up.

"This one's all mine then," I announced, taking a sip. I felt the buzz immediately, which was weird. Maybe I'd had more to drink than I'd thought.

Rose took a moment to look around the kitchen. I was never one to clean up after myself when I might still need things, so the contents of all the drinks I'd tried to make were scattered across the available counterspace.

"Mum didn't have all of this, did she?" Rose asked. I shook my head.

"Nicked most of it from the TARDIS," I admitted. The Doctor gave me a weird look. "What? It was your idea."

"You said 'nicked'," the Doctor informed me. He was smiling this cheeky grin that meant I just had to respond with more than the 'yes, and?' that I would have.

"I most certainly did not," I said, hiding my smile behind my drink.

"No, you did," Rose argued. "We both heard you."

"So what if I did?" I argued back primly. The Doctor snorted a laugh. "I've been living in London for a week now. I'll kick it as soon as we're off again."

"Hmm," Rose hummed. "I'm gonna hold you to that."

"Consider yourself at strike one," the Doctor agreed. I rolled my eyes, because that was what was expected of me, and we went back to talking about whatever passed into our heads.

...

"Rose, I think your friend lost something," Bev said, pulling a very drunk and very confused Katelyn behind her. The young woman had disappeared from the kitchen somewhere into her fourth glass of the spice rum mixed drink. Now, Katelyn had been dragged back to the kitchen and was tapping her chest absently.

"Where'd the other one go?" Katelyn was muttering.

"The other…?" Rose said, thinking. Rose and Jack had known about the locket Katelyn wore, but Rose didn't know what was in it. She'd always been a bit afraid to ask, knowing how Katelyn was about her past. Another thing for Rose to add to her ever growing list of similarities between the Doctor and Katelyn Laurin. "Did you lose your key?" Rose asked.

"My...? No," Katelyn said as firmly as someone so drunk they were leaning on a wall could. "No, I got my key." Katelyn patted her chest again, and Rose could see the impression of both the key and her locket through her shirt. Katelyn's face scrunched in confusion. "Oh, guess they're both there. Thanks, Rosie. You're a wonderful friend and a delight to be around." Then, Katelyn smiled and disappeared again to go be drunk in another room.

"Now what was that all about?" Bev asked. Rose opened her mouth to simply joke that Katelyn had a low tolerance, when something occurred to her.

The only 'other' Rose Tyler could think of in the chest area was the Doctor's second heart. But… Surely, Katelyn couldn't… Katelyn had always been adamant that she was human, and so was the Doctor. On one hand, she was the same kind of telepathic he was (Rose knew because it was hard to forget his reaction to realizing Katelyn had been captured by the Sernox). But on the other hand, the Doctor had always said he'd know if there were any more of his people in the universe. But those Daleks, they had called Katelyn a Time Lord. They'd said she'd named herself to them. Katelyn said they'd been lying. But those Dalek's had also known the Doctor on sight. Was that just because it was him, or did they know all Time Lords on sight?

Rose's head was starting to spin from all the circular thinking. And possibly a bit from the fancy French wine that had been among what Katelyn nicked from the TARDIS. Rose had been enjoying it all night. She put her glass down on the kitchen counter, just as people in the other room started counting down. Rose went to join them, pushing the 'Time Lord Reborn' business to the back of her mind.

Plenty of time to talk about it when they were all completely sober again.

...

At 5:59 AM, London time, New Years day, 2007, I sat myself in front of the muted TV (I didn't want to wake up the sleeping Tylers) in Jackie Tyler's living room, and watched the New Year's ball drop in Times Square.

It was something my family did, had done, every year, something I'd always taken so much for granted it had never even occurred to me to miss it. I was lucky sober, 5:00pm yesterday evening Katelyn Laurin had remembered to set an alarm, or I actually would have missed it.

Jackie's friends had gone home shortly after we'd rung in the New Year, and those of us that stayed had passed out shortly after. I hadn't made it down to the TARDIS, instead spending one more night on Jackie's couch.

Now, I sat on the floor, watching the celebrations on the TV. I watched complete strangers make out, because they needed their New Year's kiss, for good luck. I watched the same announcers I'd watched my whole life predict what might be coming in the new year. I watched, and I remembered myself, six years old, insisting I could stay up a little longer despite my heavy eyelids and noodle-like appendages.

I smiled at the memory, and went to brush the tears from my cheek on instinct. There weren't any. That made me so happy that I ended up crying anyway. A bit counter productive, if you ask me.

I only cried for a few seconds before pulling myself together. I washed the remains of the tears off my face and brushed the taste of last night's drinking out of my mouth before making my way into Jackie's kitchen. If I was going to be awake this early, it was only fair I make breakfast.

We'd be leaving today, and then it was the rest of Series 2. I'd learn from my mistakes on the Game Station, and on Christmas. Maybe, if I prepared more than ten minutes in advance, I could do some good.

I started planning.