CHAPTER I: AND
And.
The Doctor had never paid attention to that tiny word until he realised his name had changed. No longer was he "The Doctor", but "The Doctor and Rose Tyler." This was the power of "and", bridging two worlds. Long ago, he would have thought that being a Time Lord was enough, with all the danger and loneliness it brought. The idea of him finding someone worthy of "and"?
Impossible- until now.
Life had changed in the police box. On waking, he would smell coffee, and hear clunking from his dying kettle. Rose Tyler wouldn't hear of its replacement, though she railed against its habit of fainting and having a seizure every morning. The other day, he discovered a pot of Claire's fluorescent pink nail varnish on top of the central humidifier. After that, Rose took to sitting on any counter she could find, even if her swinging legs blocked vital TARDIS machines.
He never complained. Instead, they had developed inside jokes, methods of staying sane as they spun through time and space. If they crashed several centuries into the future, no problem: they could always hop back into the TARDIS. If not... Well, at that point they would burst out laughing. Then came the jokes about eating aliens or getting eaten, calling the police if they got mugged on another planet, quitting their job and settling down with a mortgage.
Sometimes the jokes drifted too close to home, leading to awkward glances and intimate silences.
Of course, he had to send her home from time to time. At that point, he would lean against the TARDIS door wondering how on earth humans coped with one heart. If you watched someone walk away with no idea of when they would return, you needed at least two. Eventually, he would slink back inside, chilled to the bone. It had nothing to do with winter; the TARDIS whispered everything he dared not say.
In time, however, he heard a knock. With his face breaking into a wild smile, he rushed to the door, flung it open. Rose! Hello, Doctor. Always the same nondescript greeting, the same undefinable affecting shining in her eyes. She seemed to say that this senseless orbit through history and the future was infinitely preferably to a Friday night fish and chips. Or so he believed. Whatever the reason, whether rain or shine, Rose Tyler always returned.
At the end of the matter, he was no longer "The Doctor", but "The Doctor and Rose Tyler."
And Rose Tyler.