A/N: Just a short one to explore some of the Doctor's thoughts. :)

Chapter 2: The Syntax of Signs

Their impromptu language lesson lasted all of a quarter hour before the Doctor realized just how selfish he was being. Not only had Rose stayed up all night, but they had just come off two of the most stressful days he could remember experiencing in many many years. The Game Station's machinations followed by a Dalek attack and the bone-deep exhaustion that came with facing certain death. He stopped searching through the library's stack and turned to stare at Rose. She had curled up in her favorite chair, the one by the fire that was technically big enough for two. She'd become the Bad Wolf less than 36 hours ago. He swallowed. She'd ripped open the TARDIS and stared into a death more certain than even the Daleks and she'd done it for him.

And, oh Rassilon, he'd rewarded her by dying in front of her and then sleeping through most of the invasion of her planet. To say nothing of their current issues with communication.

She'd skipped Christmas dinner with her mum because of him. She acted like it wasn't a big deal, but thinking back he remembered he saw how tightly she'd hugged Jackie while he waited a few feet away. He'd been so busy worrying about what was happening to his brain that he hadn't even noticed at the time. Great. Another reason for Jackie to hit him.

Even as he watched, Rose's eyes fluttered shut. Her head started to tilt towards her chest before she started violently and sat back up. His hearts hurt.

He really was rude.

"Rose," he said and then winced when it didn't come out right. She looked at him and said something. One word that tilted up at the end, a question of some sort. He shrugged a little helplessly and she laughed. Then, she patted the narrow space beside her on the chair.

The first time he realized the chair was big enough for two was also the first day he realized he was in deep trouble. Jack had been traveling with them for a few weeks and the humans were tactile in a way that both fascinated him and elicited scorn from the little voice in the back of his head that he thought of as the Time Lord (capital letters required). Jack ruffled Rose's hair when he passed her and dodged as she slapped out at him. Rose wrapped her arms around Jack's stomach from behind and buried her face in the back of her jacket. They sat in one chair, her legs over his and his arms around her and their cheeks brushing as they whispered. His previous incarnation had not understood the anger that roiled through him when he saw them together. Now, with Rose burned into his hearts as the first being he saw, he understood and he hated it.

He had no right to be jealous of Jack and Rose, especially now that Jack was- well, now that Jack was what he was.

Rose sat up a little higher. She was flushed and he realized she was embarrassed. She was probably missing her friend and afraid of what was happening and she asked him to sit with her and here he was just staring at her. Without another moment's hesitation, he crossed the space between the shelves and the chair in three huge strides. New legs, they were about an inch longer than his last ones. It left him feeling ever so slightly off kilter when each step took him ever-so-slightly further than before. Rose looked up at him with wide eyes, clearly startled by his rapid movement.

"May I?" he asked, pointing at the space beside her. She bit her lip. Good job, Doctor, he thought, you ruined it. Here she was, reaching out and- Oh, he'd missed her saying something. She was looking at him patiently. So, he sat. He really hoped that was what he was supposed to do, because this was going to be so awkward if she'd just rescinded the offer.

Rose wriggled a little and he prepared to bolt, sure he'd messed up in some way. But, she was just shifting so her feet were jammed under the plush arm of the chair. The position meant her back rested against his arm, squishing it in uncomfortably. He pulled it out from under her and immediately realized his mistake. With her leaning back against him like she was he had no where to put his arm. The back of the chair was too high and the only other option was to lay it across her torso. Awkwardly, he allowed it to hover in the air, trying to decide what to do.

Rose snorted. She reached up and grabbed the arm, pulling it down so it was wrapped around her rib cage. He froze.

This was, this was a lot. He'd been jealous of Rose and Jack's casual intimacy. Beyond any feelings he might be harboring, it had been years (so so many years) since he had anyone he was close enough to be that way around. For someone with tactile telepathy it was a sustained form of slow torture. No one felt quite real when you couldn't touch them. He made up for it by taking their hands to run and clapping people on the back and standing just a little too close when he could get away with it.

But, this, this was so different than that.

Rose's back was pressed against his ribs, he could feel her single heart beating. It was slowing even as the breaths that he could feel under his arm deepened. She twisted her head so her face was pressed against the inside of his bicep and he realized what was happening.

She was falling asleep.

Holding him. She'd asked him to come over and then she wrapped him up and now she was- he brushed his mind across the very outer edges of hers- solidly, deeply asleep.

He wasn't sure whether he should be pleased that she was so comfortable with his new body or annoyed that she'd somehow tricked him into being trapped here for however long her exhausted human body planned to sleep.

He settled on feeling wildly, irrepressibly fond.

Besides, he thought, it wasn't as if she'd left him with nothing to do. She was here and he could pass hours mapping the planes of her face, tracing the tiny constellations between the nearly invisible freckles that dotted her cheeks. He leaned his head onto the back of the chair and kicked his legs up onto a conveniently placed footstool. Might as well get comfortable.

Less than an Earth-hour later, the TARDIS slowly turned off the fireplace, lowering the lights in the library so as not to disturb the two sleeping figures curled up in the plush armchair.