A/N: You'll probably need to read my other drabble, 'Twenty Questions' to get the most out of this. There were a couple of requests to wonder if I was going to continue, so I thought I'd add a second one. I may make it into a series. Should probably clear up that this is Nine, by the way. It doesn't really matter yet, because for the time you could see them as either, and I really didn't have either in mind when I began. Anyway, let's not make this note longer than the drabble itself, shall we? xD


Twenty Meanings


Rose blinked at him, the comb paused in her hand. He was still sitting there, looking up at her, his face entirely sincere. He didn't appear to be joking.

"I... uh..." she stuttered.

Love. The word came in so many forms, covered so many aspects. It could mean anything. What did he mean? Love her as a friend? Love her as an estranged sister? Love her like an annoying puppy? What did he mean?

The Doctor grinned broadly, before turning and settling himself between her knees again.

"Come on, come on," he chided with affection. "My hair won't comb itself."