A/N: As you've probably noticed, I'm skipping over certain series 7 adventures with this fic for the sake of time/plot. Sorry to anyone who really enjoys "Cold War", but it won't be making an appearance here.

"Is there an infirmary in this thing?" Rose asked, pretending not to already know the answer as they finally returned to the safety of the TARDIS. She silently asked the sentient ship to bring said room to the fore as she guided the Doctor carefully down the steps and into the console room.

"What? Yes, of course there is," the Doctor muttered distractedly as he clumsily tripped down the stairs at her side. "Of course there's an infirmary. There's also six squash courses, a delightful little room full of antique teapots, and an exact replica of the Louvre in 1892. Why do you ask?"

"Because you've just offered your mind up on a silver platter to a hungry, soul-eating star," Rose reminded him with a long-suffering roll of her eyes. "I think it's safe to say that you might need a quick check-up."

"Nah, don't be ridiculous," the Doctor sighed, finally leaning away from her and tottering unevenly to collapse with a grunt on one of the flights of stairs surrounding the console room. "I'm fine, totally fine."

Rose knew better than to believe him, but she also knew better than to try and argue with him when he was insistent on maintaining his ridiculous Time Lord dignity.

"Fine," she agreed, heaving her own sigh as she bent to sit on the step beside him. "I'll just have to stay here, then, and make sure that you don't pass out or suddenly stop breathing or something."

"And how long are you going to do that for?" the Doctor asked, eying her warily.

"As long as it takes," Rose replied with an easy shrug.

The Doctor rubbed his hand over his forehead and combed his hair back out of his eyes before he asked, "So does that mean that you're staying, then?"

Rose felt her heart leap into her throat as she hesitantly tried to gauge the Doctor's exhausted expression. He wasn't looking at her, but she knew that he was patiently hanging on her every reaction.

"If you'll have me," she finally replied, studying the haggard profile that he cut against the sleek backdrop of his new TARDIS desktop.

"What about your family?" he asked without pause, continuing to train his gaze away from her.

"What?"

"Your family," the Doctor repeated firmly. "You weren't living in that house alone - there were three other rooms filled with personal things. Won't they wonder where you've disappeared to?"

"Those people aren't my family," Rose stated simply.

"Who were they, then?"

And how could she possibly answer that? She hadn't even counted the rooms as he had - she had only seen the one teenage girl for a moment before she had disappeared to her friend's house.

"Don't worry about them," she finally replied, leaning her head against the Doctor's shoulder in silent plea. Please don't leave, she begged. And please don't ask any more questions. "They'll get on without me," she continued out loud, keeping her tone as casual as possible. "They all knew that I wasn't going to be staying for long. I won't be missed."

The Doctor and Rose sat in tense silence for a moment and she could practically feel the anxiety coiled tight within him. She knew that if he were feeling up to it, he would have been pacing around the console room and fiddling with something or other in an attempt to keep his hands busy and put some distance between them.

"Are you ... sure?" he finally asked, his voice smaller and more hesitant than she had heard it yet.

Rose swiveled her head on his shoulder to get a better look at the expression on his face, but he turned away form her and continued flippantly, "I mean, it's just that I haven't traveled with anyone in a while. I would need to make sure that the TARDIS has some guest rooms available.

"You just told me you have an entire nineteenth century French museum in here, Doctor," Rose reminded him teasingly. "I think I'll find somewhere to kip out."

The Doctor huffed a small laugh that Rose felt vibrate through her skin and warm her insides. "Ah, well. I suppose you're right," he finally agreed.

"Just ... how long have you been traveling alone, then?" Rose asked as casually as she could.

"Doesn't matter," he replied dismissively.

"That long, eh?" she surprised.

"Suppose so."

"Tell me about them," Rose suggested lightly.

"Who?"

"The people who travel with you," she elaborated.

The Doctor fell silent then, and Rose knew immediately that she had picked the wrong moment to ask. She wondered if the memories that the sun had consumed were gone forever, or if the Doctor had somehow managed to hold on to them. Did he even remember those who he had been forced to leave behind?

Rose wrapped her hands around the Doctor's arm and squeezed it reassuringly. "Another time, then," she murmured quietly. "If this box really can travel the way you say it can, then we've got a lot of it."

"Indeed," he sighed, finally allowing himself to lean into her in return and resting his head lightly against her own.

Rose wasn't sure how long they stayed there like that, but she knew that it wasn't nearly long enough. No time spent with the Doctor was ever enough. When it came to the two of them, sometimes it felt like even eternity was too short a time.

After that, the two of them fell quickly and easily back into their routine of traveling the stars and saving people. Rose wondered if it came this easily to anyone else, or if it was simply the fact that she and the Doctor worked so well together.

The Ice Warrior on the Soviet submarine had certainly been a surprise, though. There had been Ice Warriors in Rose's parallel world, but they had gone extinct centuries ago, so she had never run into one like this before. The ancient Martian artifacts still cropped up in the Torchwood archives every now and then, though - and whenever they did, her husband would always tell her stories of the Warriors that he had fought and conquered in the past.

And hunting for ghosts in 1974 was terrifying, but exhilarating all the same. Rose had taken a liking to Professor Palmer and Emma Grayling almost immediately. They were kind, brave people who were easily intrigued by mystery, and they reminded her of all that was good and right about humanity.

"So, what's ... an empathic psychic?" Rose asked curiously as she sat down with Emma while the Doctor busily rifled through Professor Palmer's findings.

"Sometimes I ... sense feelings, the way a telepath can sense thoughts," Emma replied slowly. "Sometimes, though - not always."

"The most compassionate people you'll ever meet, empathics," the Doctor interrupted, coming to stand near the two women so that he could show off his knowledge on the subject. "And the loneliest. I mean, exposing themselves to all those hidden feelings - all that guilt, pain, and sorrow, and ..."

"Well, you certainly seem to know a lot about it," Rose interrupted. She cut him off for Emma's sake, but she wasn't about to miss the opportunity to tease him a bit. Besides, she figured that being married to a touch telepath for almost seventy years gave her a bit of knowledge on the subject.

"Yes, Doctor," Emma agreed quietly. "I believe that ... perhaps you can see as I do."

"Well, no ... not exactly," he replied, nervously straightening his bowtie. "All Time Lords are touch telepaths, but it ... works a bit different from the way you do it."

"But you still have the gift," Emma insisted as she leveled her gaze on him. "And yet you see far less than you think you do. I think you have bottled that part of yourself away - somewhere deep inside where no one will be able to find it, not even you. You're ... saving it for something. Or ... maybe someone."

Rose was about to step in and change the subject when Professor Palmer took the liberties from her. He led the Doctor to his drawing board where he had all of his notes and pictures on the Caliburn ghost laid out and the Doctor eagerly took the opportunity to leave the subject.

"So, what do you say?" he asked Rose a short time later, after they had been completely debriefed on the history of the house and the lore of the ghost. "Ready to go ghost hunting?" He kept his voice low and his head ducked close to hers as he spoke, making Rose feel as though it were just the two of them in this giant, haunted house.

"I'm not afraid, if that's what you're asking," Rose replied sardonically.

"No?" the Doctor asked, eyeing the dark shadows in the hallway outside with a look of trepidation. "Not even a little bit?"

"I've seen ghosts before, you know," she reminded him knowingly.

"Really?" he asked, his green eyes widening comically as he bent even closer towards her. "When? Where? Were they nice?"

Rose giggled despite herself and pushed playfully against his arm that wasn't holding a flaming candelabra. "Come on, the giant dalek/cyberman invasion from seven years ago?" she stated simply. "Seriously, who could have missed that?"

She pointedly didn't mention the Gelth in Cardiff, knowing that that particular adventure would be too big of a hint into her true identity. Still, the memory of Canary Wharf wasn't exactly a pleasant one for either of them, and Rose felt her smile falter as the Doctor simply nodded and looked down at his boots in response.

"Right, of course," he muttered quietly. "Who could forget that?"

"This one seems different, though," Rose suggested helpfully, hoping to steer the topic of conversation to lighter waters. "Definitely not a cyberman. So ... what, then?"

The Doctor's smile returned as he pushed the candelabra into Rose's hand and then swept his arm out grandly towards the dark hallway beyond. "Well ... let's find out," he whispered gleefully.

Later on when Rose finally got Emma alone again, she couldn't help but attempt to dig a little deeper into the empath's mind. It wasn't every day that she met someone who could read people the way that the Doctor could, and she found herself eager to explore a second perspective.

"So ... you and Professor Palmer," Rose murmured suggestively as she handed the other woman a fresh, warm mug of tea. "Have you ever ... you know?"

"No," Emma huffed dismissively, staring down into her tea to hide her expression.

"Why not?" Rose demanded insistently. "You do know how he feels about you, don't you? You, of all people?"

"I don't know," Emma sighed wearily. "People like me ... sometimes we get our signals mixed up. We think people are feeling the way we want them to feel. You know, when they're ... special to us. When really there's nothing there."

"Oh, this is there," Rose assured her knowingly.

"How do you know?" Emma asked, gazing up at Rose with unrestrained hope in her eyes.

"Because it's obvious!" Rose insisted, grabbing her own tea and coming to sit across from the other woman. "It sticks out like a ... big chin."

Emma let out another small huff of laughter as she shook her head at Rose in quiet disbelief. "What about you and the Doctor?" she asked curiously.

Rose opened her mouth to respond but hesitated for a moment, eyeing Emma's strange expression of intense concern. "Oh, I don't know. Why do you ask?" she finally replied.

"You shouldn't trust him," Emma warned her gently. "There's a sliver of ice in his heart."

Rose was startled into silence as she simply stared at Emma for a moment, her heart suddenly beating just a bit faster.

"But ... I already know that you won't listen," Emma continued, sighing and shaking her head once more.

"Oh? Why's that, then?" Rose asked curiously.

"Because you have a flame of fire in yours," the empath replied, her eyes meeting Rose's and seeming to look straight through her. "There's a light that burns at the heart of you. An eternal flame that will never die. I don't know, maybe you're right - maybe that will be enough to help him. But I fear for both of you if you're wrong."

And Rose had absolutely no idea how to respond to that, but she was saved from her conundrum when the Doctor himself suddenly came bustling in and announced that they would be taking a quick trip.

The Doctor reached the TARDIS ahead of Rose since he chose to run through the rain rather than wait for her to open her umbrella, and Rose rolled her eyes as he rudely let the doors slam in her face. She knew that there were times when he could be very considerate and chivalrous, but when his mind was racing twelve steps ahead of him, the Doctor tended to get a bit lost in the moment.

"So, where are we going?" she asked lightly as she opened the doors herself and followed him in.

"Nowhere, we're staying right here," he replied distractedly as he slid around the console and hastily set their destination. "Right here, on this exact spot, if I can work out how to do it."

"So ... when are we going?" Rose elaborated as she stepped up to join him at the console.

Her teasing smile seemed to catch his attention and he began to chuckle in amusement as he easily mirrored her expression. "Oh, that is good," he murmured appraisingly. "That is top notch."

He moved to stand closer to her and Rose turned on habit to meet him, but he suddenly froze and narrowed his eyes back on the door that she had just come through.

"Hold on, wait a second, how did you do that?" he asked, pointing over her shoulder in the direction of the TARDIS doors.

"Do what?" Rose asked, glancing back quickly to see if there was something that she had missed.

"You opened the doors," the Doctor stated suspiciously.

"Yeah? So?"

"The TARDIS doors - my TARDIS doors," the Doctor continued, leaning closer and leveling that suspicious look on her that Rose was really starting to dread. "You don't have a key, how did you do that?"

"I just ... opened them," Rose muttered truthfully, shrugging her shoulders.

"Hmm," the Doctor hummed consideringly, looking down his nose at her. "Seems the TARDIS has taken a liking to you, then. That's ... new."

"What, afraid you're not teacher's favorite anymore?" Rose teased him with a knowing smile.

The Doctor rolled his eyes at her with an annoyed expression, but she heard the answering chuckle that he tried to keep under his breath as he turned away from her and returned to preparing them for departure.

"So?" Rose prompted him. "You didn't answer the question. When are we going?"

"We're going always," the Doctor replied cryptically, flashing her an excited smile as he pulled the dematerialization lever.

He then proceeded to take them through the entire life cycle of the Earth - from birth to death. Rose tried not to let it get to her - she really did, but the whirlwind trip was a stark reminder of the power that the Doctor held and how cruel the passing of time could really be.

"Alright?" the Doctor asked warily as they finally landed back in 1974. Rose had fallen silent ever since he had returned and changed out of his orange environment suit and back into his bowtie and coat. he had been watching her cautiously out of the corner of his eye the entire time.

"I just saw the entire lifespan of the earth in five minutes," Rose reminded him quietly.

"Yes," he agreed.

"It just ... reminded me of something."

"And what's that?" he asked curiously.

"That everything ends." Rose stared dejectedly down at the console controls as she said it, but after a moment of silence the Doctor moved to her side and her gaze was pulled up on instinct to meet his.

"Not everything," he muttered quietly, his voice a mere whisper, as though it were a secret. "Not love. Not always."

Rose stared up into the Doctor's deep green gaze in silent wonder as she struggled with what to say next. There was something just behind his eyes that hinted at recognition, but she couldn't tell if it was real or just wishful thinking on her part.

"Oh, Doctor," she sighed, flashing him a rueful smile as she continued to steadily meet his gaze. "What must we look like to you? I suppose everyone must seem like a ghost to someone who can travel the entirety of the universe in the blink of an eye."

"No, you're not ghosts," he replied evenly.

"No?" she asked, quietly prompting him for more.

"No," the Doctor answered simply. "You, Clara Oswald, are the only mystery worth solving."

The false name cut through Rose's heart just as it always did, but in the time it took for her to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat, the Doctor was already out the doors and running back through the rain towards the old, haunted house.