A/N To clarify, Oxford University has several colleges that offer different courses of study. When applying, students can make an open application or apply to one of the colleges in particular.

The Green Velvet

The first time Rose Tyler met the Doctor, it was a quiet evening in January, two months before Rose's eighteenth birthday.

Rose had been walking home from work when she had taken a detour through one of the nearby parks. It was the perfect time of the evening, really, since it was too late for the little kiddies to be still out playing but the delinquents wouldn't be around until a few hours later when their parents and/or guardians had gone to bed.

She decided a break was warranted and sat on one of the empty swings, swinging back and forth listlessly. The unopened thick envelope in her coat pocket felt like it weighed a ton and despite having received it a day ago, she still had not found the courage to open it.

The encounter with Lia had occurred over a year ago, and Rose's life had changed irrevocably since. A series of choices that had apparently led to her sitting alone in an empty park on a freezing cold evening.

Well, that was a bit unfair. It wasn't like Rose was alone in a metaphorical sense.

She had her mum who, while not completely on board with the university idea, had stopped actively discouraging her from it for the past few months. Rose hadn't had the chance to bring up their fight from last summer and it had been so long since then, that Rose had just chosen to let it go.

Apart from her mum, she also had Mickey although things were awkward on that front since New Years' Eve when he'd kissed her at midnight. Rose hadn't quite returned the kiss, and Mickey had been avoiding her since. She would need to sit him down and tell him she wasn't mad about the kiss, just caught off-guard. But she knew he'd want to make a proper go of things and Rose wasn't sure if she had the time or the inclination to get into a relationship at this time.

She also had River, who had returned from her expedition last summer after five days, and proceeded to thoroughly chew out Jack for putting Rose in danger, despite Rose telling her that it wasn't Jack's fault. Jack, to his credit, had borne the admonishment without protest. Rose had only seen Jack on a couple of other occasions after that, usually because River was needed elsewhere. Rose knew she had them both in her corner, so she was far from alone.

But that evening, she was feeling a bit too wrapped up in her own thoughts to be optimistic. The letter from Oxford had come at the right time for when they sent out conditional offers, but Rose wasn't certain it wasn't just a flat-out rejection. She had submitted her two written pieces in November, having selected them with River's guidance. Azalea had advised her to make an open application to Oxford instead of limiting herself to one of the colleges right from the onset. By some miracle (though both River and Jack were unsurprised), Rose had been invited to attend an interview by Hertford College.

The interview had been last month, and Rose had no idea how she had actually fared. Hertford College only offered 4 places for the Archaeology and Anthropology program every year and there had been at least three times as many people who had been interviewed that Rose knew of. Despite having borrowed a suit from River for the occasion, Rose had felt incredibly out of place both before and during the interview.

Despite her nervousness though, Rose had absolutely fallen in love with Oxford. The entire campus exuded a charm and warmth that she was unable to articulate, and Hertford College itself was incredibly beautiful. Rose knew she would be extremely lucky if she got to study at Hertford. The questions they had asked during the interview weren't too difficult and all those hours of watching River work had certainly paid off. Rose didn't want to be too confident, but she thought that the interviewers had been impressed that she already had an archaeologist who was mentoring her.

A slight sound made her jump and glance off to the side. She noticed a movement in the shadows and stood up quickly. A few seconds later, a man stumbled out of the shadows, appearing to be quite alone. Rose glanced at him in concern as he steadied himself against the monkey bars.

"You alright, mate?" she called out.

She saw his head turn in her direction and she could tell he appeared to have long curly hair, but she couldn't make out his clothing or features. He started to move toward her but stumbled against the monkey bars again.

"Too much to drink?" she asked, sympathetically.

"I don't think so," he said, and Rose's eyebrows shot up at the posh voice.

He slowly walked toward Rose and her eyebrows climbed higher. The man was dressed in old-fashioned Edwardian clothing - grey trousers, white wing-collared shirt, silver waistcoat complete with a pocket watch, and a green velvet coat. He had long curly chestnut hair and a rather handsome face. She couldn't see his eyes clearly but thought they may be blue.

Rose stood rooted to the spot, as the man stumbled over and then sat down on the other swing.

"Are you coming home from a party or something?" asked Rose, puzzled by his clothing and overall appearance.

He shook his head and there was a look of confusion and slight distress on his face. Against her better judgment, Rose sat back down on the swing, facing him. He looked toward her with a slightly lost look in his eyes (and yes, they were blue).

Rose smiled a little, hoping to put him at ease. "Do you want me to call someone for you?" she asked.

"That would be kind," he said. "But I'm afraid I don't know who to call."

"What do you mean?" asked Rose, concerned.

He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled rather sheepishly. "I am not quite sure who I am," he said.

Rose blinked at him. "You've lost your memory?" she asked.

"Appears so," he nodded.

"What's the last thing you remember?" asked Rose. She vaguely wondered if she should be more suspicious of his story but there was such honesty in his words and demeanour that she didn't believe he was trying to pull one over on her.

"Waking up," he said, and Rose managed not to roll her eyes because she knew it would be insensitive.

"Were you drugged, do you think?" asked Rose, peering at his face. She couldn't smell alcohol on his breath and his eyes appeared fine, but she was no expert.

He shook his head, curly hair moving gently with the motion. Rose watched the curls with slight envy, knowing her hair would never be able to do that.

"Have you got your wallet? Maybe check if you have some ID," suggested Rose.

"Oh, good idea..." he said, and then paused to look at her.

"Rose," she said, realising he was waiting for her name. "Rose Tyler."

"Nice to meet you, Rose Tyler," he smiled, and Rose felt her breath catch as the gesture lit up his already-handsome face.

He rifled through his pockets and Rose glanced away, wondering what was wrong with her. The poor man had lost his memories and she was sure he was in no mood to be ogled at.

"Aha!" she heard and turned to look at him.

Instead of a wallet, he was holding up a yo-yo. "I thought I had lost this," he said, grinning brightly. "I am quite good at tricks. Look, I'll show you." Rose just watched as he tried and failed spectacularly, and was left holding a tangled mess of string and red plastic in mere seconds. "Oh," he said, looking very disappointed. "Perhaps not, then."

Rose tried not to laugh, she really did, but the slight pout on his face made a chuckle slip out, and he looked up when he heard it. She thought he'd be offended and opened her mouth to apologise, but he grinned at her and stuffed the yo-yo back into his coat.

"My absolute failure to perform anything resembling a trick aside, I do not appear to have any identification on me," he said.

"Right," said Rose, noticing there was a hint of Scouse when he spoke. "Maybe you were mugged," she suggested. "Are you injured?"

He frowned a little, seemingly considering her words. "My head does hurt a bit," he said, touching a spot at the back of his skull.

"May I?" asked Rose, and he nodded. Smiling reassuringly, Rose leaned forward and ran her fingers along the spot he had pointed out, making him hiss lightly. "There's a lump here," she said, pulling away. "No blood though, but you may have a concussion." She looked at him in concern. "I think you should go to a hospital."

"No, no hospitals," he said, sounding very firm on that. "I hate those places."

"You have a head injury," said Rose, trying to be patient. "And you have amnesia. Trust me, we need to go to a…" Her words were cut off as he let out a cry of pain and clutched his head in his hands. "Are you alright?"

"I need to…" he muttered, stumbling to his feet but still clutching his head. "I need to find it."

He started to walk away and Rose shot off after him, grabbing his arm to stop him in his path.

"Oi, hang on," she said, noting how much strength he had despite his lean frame. He wasn't that much taller than her but she had to use almost all her strength to hold him in place. "Just stop for a moment, will you?"

"I have to…"

"Yeah, you have to find something, I got that part," said Rose. "But the only thing you'll find in your state is a concussion."

He stopped groaning in pain but there was still a deep grimace on his face as he slowly opened his eyes. "I can't remember what I need to find," he said, looking so very confused and lost that Rose felt her heart squeeze in her chest.

"Look, let's sit back down," said Rose, encouragingly. "We'll try and jog your memory, alright?" In all honesty, she just wanted to get him to a hospital but knew he would not go quietly.

Thankfully, the man let her lead him toward a park bench and the two sat down next to each other.

"I have to call you something, so let's stick with the classics and go with John Smith," said Rose.

'John' looked slightly amused, even as she could see the lingering traces of pain in his features. "I have the feeling this isn't the first time I have used that name," he said.

"You lose your memory often?" asked Rose, amused as well.

"I don't know, I can't remember," he said, and they both chuckled. "What about you, Rose? Do you make a habit of helping out amnesiac strangers who stumble out of the dark?"

"Yes, it's my part-time job, actually," joked Rose, before shrugging. "Look, I can't just...leave you here when you clearly need help. My conscience won't let me."

He smiled gently, as if she had said something brilliant. Rose ignored the flutter in her stomach and focused on the matter at hand. "And besides, I'm avoiding my own problems at the moment, so I might as well help with yours," she added, before he could get the wrong idea that she was a saint or something.

"What problems are you avoiding?" he asked.

Rose stared at him but then shrugged and pulled out the envelope from her coat.

"Hertford College," he said, looking at the emblem. "Oxford?"

"How'd you know that?" asked Rose. "Thought you didn't remember anything."

"I'm not sure," he frowned.

Rose gave him a searching look before shrugging. "Anyway, I interviewed with them last month for a place in autumn. The letter should be their response."

"But you haven't opened it yet," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she admitted and stuck it back into her coat. "It's stupid, I know," she added. "It's not like the response will change based on whether I open it or not. But enough about me. Let's see what we can do to help you."

"I'm not sure what we can do, Rose," he said. "My memories feel fleeting and they vanish before I can focus on them."

"Okay then," said Rose, at a loss as well. "What's something you can focus on at the moment? You said you had to find something?"

He nodded. "A scarf," he said. "I had to find a scarf." He looked at Rose and shook his head. "That is woefully unhelpful, isn't it?"

"Maybe it was yours," said Rose. "I mean, the evening is cold enough for it. Did you lose your scarf?" She felt slightly stupid as she said it.

He chuckled. "I don't think so," he said. "But I used to have a scarf. An absurd one." He rubbed his temple like warding off a headache. "And a recorder, and a cane, and a rainbow coat, and a celery, and a car and a brolly."

"All at the same time?" asked Rose, but John didn't look like he heard her.

"Where am I, exactly?" he asked, looking around at their surroundings.

"East Powell Park," said Rose. When he just looked at her blankly, she smiled a little. "South London."

"And what year is it?" he asked.

"2004," said Rose. "8th of January."

"It's Elvis' birthday," he said.

"And David Bowie's," nodded Rose, and then blinked at him. "How did you remember that?"

"I don't know," he said.

Rose pursed her lips. "It seems like you remember things, just not about yourself," she said, thoughtfully. "Are there any places in London that you remember?"

"Plenty, but the usual ones," he shrugged. "Buckingham Palace. The London Eye. Trafalgar Square…"

"Right, I get the picture," Rose interrupted before he could continue. "Look, I could call my boss. She's...she's a PI. She might be able to help."

John gave her a measuring look but before he could answer, they heard a shuffle in the shadows. Rose didn't pay much attention to it, but John's back went ramrod straight as he stared in that direction.

"What is it?" asked Rose, but he shushed her. She peered into the darkness but could not see anything for a brief moment, until a shadowy figure came into view.

"We have to go," he said, grabbing Rose's wrist and pulling her to her feet.

"What?" asked Rose, but he pulled her along as he started jogging in the direction opposite to where the figure was.

"John! Where are we going?" she asked, as he pulled her out of the park.

He didn't answer and just glanced around at the street they had emerged out on. "It's crowded enough," he said. "Let's try and blend in."

Rose wordlessly let him sweep her along into the crowd, his hand still clasped firmly around her wrist. "Are we being followed?" she asked, wondering if she should have left well enough alone if he had people chasing him.

John cast a discreet eye behind them before shaking his head. "I'm not sure," he said, and his pace slowed a little as they came out onto an even more crowded street.

Rose glanced around quickly and then shrugged off John's grip on her wrist before grabbing his hand. "Come on," she said, pulling him toward the bus stop where a bus was just pulling up. The two of them hopped onto the bus, without even checking where it was headed, and then collapsed into a seat side-by-side.

"There was a man back there," said John, by way of explanation. "He was holding a weapon."

"A weapon?" asked Rose, alarmed. "What, like a gun?"

"No, it was a discombobulator," he said. "Designed to target the hippocampus."

Rose stared at him, knowing she had never heard of anything like that before. "What's the hippocampus do?" asked Rose, only vaguely remembering that it was a part of the brain.

"It stores episodic memory which we can then access to remember certain things," he said.

"So, you're saying you were attacked with this discombobulator thingy which is why you've lost your memories?" asked Rose.

"That is what must have happened," he said. "Because you're right. The only things I cannot remember are specific things about myself. I can walk and talk just fine, and I can remember other things, but I don't have any memories of my own."

Rose nodded and they were both quiet for a few moments. Rose realised the bus had been moving for some time now, and would have put quite a distance between John's attacker and them by now. "Come on," she said, standing up. "Let's get down here."

The two of them disembarked at the next stop and Rose glanced around, trying to work out where they were.

"This looks familiar," said John, frowning deeply as he looked around.

"Does it?" asked Rose, as he started walking down one of the streets. She jogged after him to keep up, because he seemed to be walking at a much faster pace than before. "Slow down, will you?" she called after him but then he just stopped dead in his path. "What's wrong?" asked Rose, as she finally caught up.

"Coal Hill Secondary School," he said, and Rose followed his gaze to see a school at the end of the road.

"We're in Shoreditch," said Rose, reading the school's signboard. "Not a great part to be in after dark, though," she added, the silent streets unnerving her a bit.

John didn't respond and turned down a side street and continued his fast pace. Rose rolled her eyes but ran after him, vaguely noticing the street was called Totter's Lane.

"Here," he said, stopping in front of number 76.

"I.M. Foreman Scrap Merchant?" asked Rose, confused. "It's a junkyard." John was checking the doors and Rose was surprised when they swung open, unlocked. "Oi," she hissed, as he made his way inside. "You're trespassing." There was no response and Rose rolled her eyes. "I mean it!" she said, keeping her voice low. "I'm not getting arrested."

When there was still no response, Rose glanced around quickly before slipping inside the junkyard as well. She had full intention of going in there just to get John out before he got them both arrested, but she heard murmured voices further inside the junkyard. Immediately, Rose slowed her pace and took to the shadows, creeping forward slowly.

The junkyard was full of odds and ends which meant it was easy enough for Rose to remain hidden as she made her way along. She finally saw John but he had his hands raised and a man dressed equally as bizarrely as John was standing in front of him, pointing an odd silver baton at him.

The stranger had a shaved bald head with intricate black tattoos on his skull, pale skin, and he was wearing an olive green jumpsuit, black combat boots, with bizarre instruments and devices strapped to his belt. Rose didn't recognise most of the devices, with the exception of a compass which she had seen once before at Mr Robbins' house. She remembered that Jack had explained it was from the Jaggit Brocade.

Rose surmised the man was definitely not from Earth if he had that and all those other things in his possession.

The man was speaking but all Rose could hear were growls and grunts. To her even greater surprise however, John was responding in the same language. Rose observed the two for a moment, and realised that while John looked and sounded confused, the other man was noticeably furious.

Rose looked at the device in the man's hand and remembered what John had told her about the discombobulator. Based on how the conversation (if it could be called that) was going, it was likely the man was about to attack John again. Rose carefully crept along in the shadows, moving until she was behind the other man. She met John's gaze who didn't let on that he had seen her.

Grabbing a nearby cricket bat, Rose raised it and tiptoed behind the man. He must have sensed her coming because he turned around but Rose raised the bat and brought it crashing down on his hand that was holding the discombobulator.

He yelled out and dropped the weapon and Rose immediately kicked it away into the shadows.

"Run, John!" she said, throwing the bat down. John ignored her and ran straight over to the man and ripped out one of the devices strapped to his belt. The man screamed in anger but John threw the small glass ball onto the ground and it shattered before filling the entire space with a bright white light.

Rose had to close her eyes and she felt someone grab her hand. Before she could freak out, she heard John's voice in her ear. "Run!"

Without missing a beat, Rose followed John as he pulled her along behind her. She squinted her eyes as she tried to let them adjust, and it took a few seconds for her vision to return to normal. John came to a stop, just as Rose realised he had led them further into the junkyard as opposed to out of it.

"What are we doing?" asked Rose, her voice high with fear and stress. "We should be running away."

"No, let's go in here instead," said John, nodding toward a blue Police box that Rose hadn't noticed right away.

"A box?" asked Rose. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I've just got it back, as a matter of fact," he said, and drew out a key from his coat which he used to unlock the box. He turned around and smiled at Rose. "Come on."

Rose could hear the other man's footsteps growing closer, so she followed him into the box and slammed the doors shut behind her. Resting her back against the doors, Rose felt her jaw drop.

The inside of the box was a cavernous Gothic sitting room with a strange console in the centre of the room, surrounded by tall metal columns. The console had various buttons, switches, levers and gears on it as well as a main cylindrical rotor of sorts.

John was standing at the console and pressing buttons, murmuring to himself. Rose jumped a little as the rotor sprung to life and an odd wheezing sound filled the room. John turned to her and smiled a little.

"Alright, Rose," he said. "Where should I start?"

"Are we still in the box?" she blurted out.

"Yes," he answered.

"Dimensional relativity?" she asked, remembering Jack showing her the prison cell which was bigger on the inside than the outside.

"Correct," he said, looking very impressed.

Rose blinked a few times and then slid down to sit on the floor, her back still resting against the closed doors. "You're an alien?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, as he kept the distance between them which was a good thing because Rose was still feeling decidedly jumpy. "I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord from a planet called Gallifrey, and this is my ship. She's called the TARDIS."

Rose stared at him with wide eyes. "You're the Doctor?" she asked.

He looked surprised. "You've heard of me?" he asked.

"Sort of, yeah," said Rose. "A friend of mine...you're her white whale." She was still a bit too shocked to engage her brain to mouth filter.

The Doctor crossed his arms and frowned. "And what does your friend do?" he asked.

"She's an archaeologist," said Rose. When he scoffed, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

"They never get anything right," he said, shaking his head.

Rose got to her feet and crossed her arms irritably. "And you know, do you?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, like there was no doubt. "I'm a time traveller. I point and laugh at archaeologists."

Rose's eyes went wide and she ignored the insult to archaeologists as she made her way toward the Doctor. "This ship of yours travels in time?" she asked.

"It does," he said, looking very smug about it. "It's in the name, really. T-A-R-D-I-S. Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

"Why does it look like a Police box on the outside?" she asked.

"The chameleon circuit is broken," he said. "And I quite like it as it is now." He chuckled before surveying her thoughtfully. "You are taking this surprisingly well, Rose."

"You're not the first alien I have met," she said. "Or the first time traveller," she added, tilting her chin up stubbornly.

His eyebrows shot up. "Strange, you do not appear to be lying," he said. "You're too young to be recruited by UNIT, at least."

"What's UNIT?" asked Rose, confused.

"That answers that," he said. There was a beeping noise from the console and he turned away to check one of the screens. "Aha! Found you."

"Found who?" asked Rose, since the language on the screen was a whole lot of interlocking circles, hexagons and lines.

"Troiton," said the Doctor. "The man who attacked me back there."

"Is he from the Jaggit Brocade?" asked Rose.

The Doctor frowned. "No, why would you think that?" he asked.

"The compass on his belt," she said, feeling a bit stupid.

His expression cleared and he gave her a slightly impressed look. "Well-observed," he said. "Troiton is a scavenger," he explained. "A scavenger with access to time travel, which is why he has that compass. Did you recognise any of the other devices he had?" When Rose shook her head, his smile widened. "It's all mismatched technology from all over time and space that he has scavenged in his travels."

"What does he want?" asked Rose. "Why did he attack you?"

"He attempted to steal the TARDIS from me," said the Doctor, looking highly irritated about it. "He attacked me with that discombobulator, which would have knocked most people out immediately. Except, I'm a Time Lord so I had some time before the effects hit me, which is why I landed on Earth. Near that park where I met you, as a matter of fact."

"But then how did your ship end up in Shoreditch?" asked Rose.

The Doctor was pressing some of the buttons on the console and didn't answer immediately. "Troiton had locked onto the TARDIS and I knew it would only be a matter of time before he followed me to Earth," he said. "So as soon as I landed, I sent the TARDIS away to a safe location, but the discombobulator's effect kicked in and knocked me out. When I woke up, I couldn't remember a thing." He smiled at Rose, and she ignored that it still made her stomach flutter to see him smile like that. "The rest you know."

Rose nodded and glanced away as there was a thud and the rotor came to a stop. "Have we...landed?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, rummaging through his coat pockets before pulling out a silver pen of sorts with a circle at the end and a red bullet-shaped crystal at the centre of the circle. He pointed the device at the screen and nodded in satisfaction before turning to Rose. "Sonic screwdriver," he explained, before putting it back in his coat.

"What did you do?" asked Rose.

The Doctor smiled at her mischievously. "Remember that little glass ball that I shattered back there?" he asked. At Rose's nod, his grin grew wider. "Troiton was using that to cloak himself. I just sent his location to one of the planets where he is wanted. He should be getting arrested…" he said, and checked his pocket watch. "Right about now."

As if on cue, there was a chirp from the console and the Doctor shot her a smug smile.

"You think you're so impressive," said Rose, amused despite herself.

"I am so impressive," he said, and grinned as he walked past Rose and opened the doors of the TARDIS. Rose followed behind him cautiously and was surprised to see they were back in the park where she had first met him. The park was still empty, and Rose looked at the Doctor in confusion.

"Is he out there?" she asked. "Troiton, I mean?"

"Just watch," he said.

Rose blinked in confusion, but a moment later, the air in front of them shimmered and two people dressed in full armour appeared seemingly out of thin air. Rose couldn't see anything about what they looked like, except they appeared to be humanoid. They clicked their heels and bowed to the Doctor before one of them drew out a remote control from their armour and pressed a button.

To Rose's surprise, Troiton appeared out of thin air again. When he saw the two armour-clad figures, his face went pale.

"No," he said, and Rose was too caught up in the scene to realise she had understood what he was saying. "No! You can't take me."

"Troiton Belleur," said one of the armour-clad figures, the voice sounding mechanic. "You are charged under provisions 18.09, 20.03 and 25.12 of the Glassheart Collective's Criminal Code. You will now be brought before the Supreme Leader."

Troiton noticed the Doctor and glared fiercely at him and Rose, as the armour-clad figures placed a hand on each of his shoulders before all three of them vanished. Rose realised her mouth had fallen open and she closed it hastily.

"It's safe for us to go out there now," said the Doctor, and Rose nodded as she walked out, still a bit too overwhelmed at what she had seen. The Doctor closed the doors and leaned against the side of the TARDIS, letting her gather her thoughts.

"I understood him," she said. "I couldn't...before."

"It's the TARDIS," he said. "Translates any and all languages."

"Is this…" asked Rose, and then cleared her throat before meeting the Doctor's gaze. "Is this what you do?" she asked. "Hunt down criminals all over time and space?"

"No," he chuckled. "But if I happen to run into a criminal, I like to hand them over to the proper authorities." He smiled at Rose. "Mostly I just like to travel and see if adventure will find me."

Rose felt a surge of envy and longing when he said it, and it must have shown on her face because the Doctor's smile grew wider.

"You could come with me," he said, nodding toward the TARDIS. "If you wanted." Rose's eyes went wide and he chuckled. "You saved my life back there in that junkyard and helped me when you had no reason to, right here in this park. The very least I could do is thank you for doing that."

It was tempting, so tempting. A slightly cold breeze blew by as the Doctor waited for her answer and Rose shivered and drew her coat tighter around herself. As she did, she felt the thick envelope against her side, and Rose felt like she had been doused with cold water.

"I can't," she said, her voice full of regret. She pulled out the envelope and shrugged sheepishly.

The Doctor's face had initially fallen but he smiled ruefully when he saw the envelope. "Are you going to open it?" he asked.

"I should, shouldn't I?" she asked, chuckling as well.

The Doctor gave her an encouraging grin and Rose carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the letter and started to read silently.

Dear Miss Tyler,

I am pleased, on behalf of Hertford College, to offer you a place for admission in October 2004 to read Archaeology and Anthropology, a 3-year course. This offer is conditional upon your obtaining the following grades in your forthcoming examinations:

A., A., A.

Could I please ask you to let me know as soon as possible, preferably within the next 21 days if you intend to…

Rose stopped reading and looked up at the Doctor, who had already unlocked the TARDIS and was smiling.

"Congratulations, Rose," he said, and stepped inside the TARDIS.

Rose just beamed brightly, not caring how he'd deduced she'd received an offer of acceptance from Oxford. "Thank you, Doctor," she said. "Will I ever see you again?" she asked, before he could close the doors.

He paused and looked at her contemplatively. "I hope so," he said, and his sincere tone made Rose's cheeks turn pink.

"Just so you know," she said, pointing toward him warningly as she fought off her embarrassment. "I may be an archaeologist by the time we meet again."

He threw his head back and laughed loudly. "I look forward to it," he said. "Thank you, Rose Tyler," he added with a soft smile. "It was very nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Doctor," said Rose, honestly. "I hope we see each other again."

With matching bright grins, the Doctor and Rose parted ways as the Doctor vanished with the TARDIS and Rose returned home.

It would be some time before they would see each other again, but they were already looking forward to their next meeting.