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And then I looked up at the sky and saw the sun

And the way that gravity pulls on everyone... on everyone.

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"You're cold," the Doctor said at length, his thumb brushing back and forth across her cheek.

Rose blinked up at him, her logical thought having packed up and left her the moment his hand had reached for her cheek.

"...What?"

He smiled gently and lowered his hand from her face. "Your cheek," he explained, his voice tinted with worry. "It's freezing. We should get you back to the TARDIS."

"Right old mother hen, you are," she laughed, bashing her shoulder against his affectionately and tightening her grip on his hand.

"Well excuse me for not wanting you to die of hypothermia. Can you imagine the look on your Mum's face if I told her you'd died of a bleeding cold? Never mind all the aliens we face on a daily basis."

"Just a bit longer?" Rose pleaded, looking up to him with large, round eyes. He hesitated, his indecision evident. Then her fingers began to tickle the back of his hand and the decision was made. Hats off to her; she knew how to get her way.

"We've eaten chips, raced down to the beach, had a water fight and had a walk. 'S'not really much else to do, is there?"

Rose's face lit up and she grinned, stealing her hand away from his. He was reluctant and almost didn't let her go – he didn't want to let her go. But she had something up her sleeve, and he wanted to find out what it was.

"What are you thinking?" he grinned with an amused frown.

Her eyes shone up at him daringly. "Race."

"What?"

"You said we 'raced' down the beach. We didn't race. We just ran."

"Oh, I see," he replied with a smile, the realisation dawning on him. "You want to race. Why, Rose, I never knew you were the type who enjoyed losing."

"Oi!" she laughed, hitting him across the shoulder with the back of her hand. "It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings!"

"That'd be interesting – I've never heard your mother sing."

Rose's face darkened with mock anger, but her humour was not far behind.

"All right then, cheeky chops; here's the deal. We race from here to that clump of seaweed over there. If I win, you have to come with me on a visit to Mum and stay the night over."

"Oh, no," the Doctor disagreed instantly, shaking his head. "I told you, I don't do domestic. And I'm not going anywhere near your mother. My cheek likes to remain unslapped, thank you very much."

Rose giggled and reached for his arm. "Hang on. You haven't heard what happens if you win. And seeing as you're so confident that I'll lose, what've you got to... well, lose?"

The Doctor frowned at for a moment, folding his arms.

"All right then, what do I get?"

"I'll clean up after you for a whole week without any complaints."

The Doctor burst out laughing, torn between amused and unamused.

"Nope! Definitely – no – deal. TARDIS cleans herself, and I don't make that much mess anyway."

Rose snorted with disagreement, but he ignored it.

"Tell you what," he said carefully, stepping towards her, his arms still crossed. "If you win, I'll do that damn thing with your mother. Tea included. I'm not stayin' over, though – a few hours with her is enough for any man, Time Lord or no. But," he added hastily, seeing that Rose was about to protest in defence, "if I win, you have to make a huge poster that says, 'Rose eats too many chips' and stick it on the side of the TARDIS. The outside. For all eyes to see, wherever and whenever we land."

She hesitated for a moment, and the Doctor enjoyed his moment of victory. There was no way she would go for that, especially since they both knew he was the better runner.

Rose sighed. "I'll do it. On one condition."

"You can't add to it!" the Doctor exclaimed, mortified. Her accepting his challenge had not been a part of his plan. "No adding to the stakes; that's not fair."

"All I wanna do is choose when we land back in London. So there's no confusion."

He raised an eyebrow and unfolded his arms, already getting tensed and ready to run. He got the impression that Rose would not be beyond cheating, ever so slightly. Which was fine: he would do the same.

"Oh? When's that, then?" he asked suspiciously. Knowing Rose, she'd choose some sort of awful holiday. Oh God, he thought with a shudder – please, not Mother's Day. That would just be the icing on the cake, wouldn't it?

"My birthday. My twentieth, April 17th."

He cocked his head and smiled to her gently, a sudden warmth flowing through him. For some reason, the sentiment touched him.

"All right," he agreed kindly, his voice soft. "We'll go back for your birthday. Can't deprive you of that, I s'pose. Not while I'm carting you 'round the universe."

"Okay!" she grinned. "Go!"

"What? Hey, that's not fair!" the Doctor complained after her as she began to run. He followed soon afterwards, his bare feet padding on the sand beneath him.

"All's fair in love and war, Doctor," Rose called back cheerfully, her hair flapping out behind her.

War, was it? He'd give her war, he thought with a grin, putting on a burst of speed. He gained on her in no time, her arms swinging out just in front of him. Pushing himself that little bit further, he sped a little past her and cackled with delight. Oh, this would be a fine day. 'Rose Tyler eats too many chips' – what sort of paper? Pink? Orange? Luminous green? Perhaps he'd just settle with plain old black and white, that always went down well...

His thoughts were interrupted when Rose swore, very loudly and very forcibly. It was just as well they were the only ones on the beach; language like that would get them expelled from the premises. He turned in time to see her stumble to the ground, clutching her foot. A deep red crimson leaked from in between her toes and began seeping into the sand, staining it that terrifying colour.

The Doctor was at her side in a moment, taking her foot in his hands to examine it. Rose bit back a shriek of pain as the blood poured like a river. He looked up to her worriedly and put a calming hand on her knee. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes red with stinging tears.

With a small nod and a smile, he delved into the depths of his jacket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver. Fumbling with its settings, he quickly changed it to replace human skin tissue then hovered it above the cut on Rose's foot, frowning at it impatiently as it buzzed into action. The wound was healed in no time, the blood stopped and the cut vanished.

"Not even so much as a scar," the Doctor said brightly, feigning cheerfulness. Rose blinked, looking from him to the screwdriver. The pain had completely evaporated and now the tears in her eyes had no reason to be there.

"Didn't know that thing could heal skin."

"One of the many, many settings," he replied, helping her to her feet and brushing idly at the sand on her legs. Realising what he was doing, however, he coughed and straightened up, putting a hand comfortingly on her arm. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Just a piece of glass, I think."

She cast a look over her shoulder, where the offending shard stuck out of the ground like the blade of a knife. She shuddered to see that it was covered with her blood. The Doctor stalked over to it and plucked it from the ground, staring at it as though he could melt it with just his eyes. In his head, he was cursing some of the more colourful words of the Gallifreyan language; if he ever found the idiot who'd left this here, he would hunt them down and make sure they died a slow and painful death.

"Stupid apes!" the Doctor cursed angrily. "They'll go through their entire existence leaving litter behind them and thinking it's okay. Too lazy to pick up after themselves, think it's all right just to leave things behind for anyone to deal with. Figure any old person will just come along and clean up after them. All the while, laying death traps for unsuspecting visitors. I mean, honestly," he lifted the bottle to his nose and sniffed. "Who drinks Country Manor on the beach, for pity's sake?"

"Doctor," Rose laughed, smiling at him affectionately. "I'm all right, yeah? It's just a bi' of glass."

He met her eye defiantly, worry still surging through him. "And what if I hadn't been here? You'd have bled to bloody death and no one would be there to help you."

"If you hadn't've been here, I wouldn't have been running, would I?" she pointed out.

The Doctor's face fell as guilt began to write itself across his features. Rose instantly recognised that she had said the wrong thing and stepped forwards, taking his hand. His fingers curled around hers as he watched her.

"It's not your fault," she said reassuringly. "It's not anyone's fault. I just didn't look where I was going. Tha's all. And it's all right now, so what's the problem?"

The problem was that at any moment, something like that could happen and he wouldn't be able to fix it. Something small and innocent would happen to her and then she would be torn away from him, leaving just a memory. All the people on this stupid, stupid planet, and it was she he cared most about. But that was probably because she wasn't part of this world any more. He had taken her away from that and, in the meantime, she had become something else. Something new. Someone that relied on him to be there to protect her. When had that happened? When had she stopped being just somebody else, another part of 'everyone'? He wasn't sure. But, thinking about it now, he wouldn't have changed it for the world. There was just too much to hold on to.