I stepped out of the TARDIS uneasily on my painful foot. It took me a moment to work out where we were.
"Henrik's basement?" I turned to face the Doctor who was just coming out of the TARDIS.
"Yes!" He grinned widely, that stupid toothy grin.
"You've brought me back to the place I used to work?"
"Yes!"
I frowned. What was he thinking? I'd asked him once before what sort of date he was… now I knew. A bloody cheap one.
"And we're here because…?" I looked around suddenly. "We're not here, are we? I mean, the other us, they're not…"
"No, it's a different day," he replied coolly. "Before it all got a bit weird."
I snorted. "A bit?" I sighed and looked around. "So you bring me to the place you blew up before you blew it up. In a cocktail dress. And new shoes. Call me stupid if you like but… why?" Maybe he'd finally gone crazy. Maybe I was trapped in a basement with a crazy Time Lord. That would be… different.
Then he held his hand out to me, and it all came flooding back. He'd done that before. Well, not him but… yes, him. Down here, all that time ago, he'd taken my hand and told me to run. And we'd never stopped. Not even in our dreams. We'd run from so much: slitheens and Darleks and werewolves. And him. I'd been running from him for so long now, scared to get too attached, scared to let myself love him the way I always had before. Except in your dreams…
"Come on," he said softly, still holding his hand out. "Come with me."
I placed my hand in his and followed him. He walked down the corridor, towards that spot where we'd first met. He pushed through the door. And we were hit with the smell of…
"Chips?" I dropped his hand in surprise.
"Hot chips." He helped himself to a couple. "Hot plates, you humans are really onto something with them. Want one?" He offered the bag to me.
I took one. "Thanks… I think. But…"
"Hold on. Just one thing left." He held a finger up and hurried away through the piles of boxes.
"What are you doing?" I asked, unable to keep myself from smiling.
"Hold on!" There was a click and then the sound of music. An unmistakable bass line. Synthesisers.
"Sometimes I feel I've got to… runaway, I've got to…getaway…"
He came back round the boxes dancing the way only he could. He offered me his hand with a flourish.
"Care to dance?"
"To this?" I wrinkled my nose.
"Classical music from humanity's greatest composers," he replied, taking my hand and pulling me into him. "Isn't it?" He looked down at me, eyebrows raised.
With his arms around me, and feeling every breath he took, I couldn't do anything but say the truth. "That's what I heard," I said softly.
"Me too." He paused. "I'm the same man, you know, Rose. I'm…"
"I know." And I did. He was the Doctor. He always would be.
"I'm sorry." He meant it.
"You don't have to be."
For a few moments we danced to the beat.
"Doctor?"
"Yes?"
"These dreams. I think I know what's causing them."
I felt him stiffen ever so slightly. "Really?" He sounded suddenly afraid. Of what? Me? That I'd figured it out? I didn't know. I just knew I didn't want him scared.
"Yeah. I think… I think I'm eating too much cheese."
A smile teased at the corners of his mouth as I met his eyes. "Yes. That's exactly what I thought too."