Ten years of New Who! I know this anniversary deserves more than a little chapter in Pictures of Us but these days I hardly find the time to write. Still, I wanted to create my own little tribute to a show and a pairing that has so quickly become one of my absolute favourites.

Happy Birthday to Nine and Rose! May they live on in our tales.

Starlight Serenade

Inspired by: Satellite by Nickelback

Time Frame: undisclosed, compliant with my Bright are the Stars universe

All around them is a song - sweet and voiceless like the night, vibrant like the promise of a coming morning.

Up above a pale moon shines brightly, silver light surrounding her as if in play with the sun that burns so deep within her eyes and never before has he seen anything quite so beautiful.

She giggles - his favourite sound - as he spins her, careful not to bring her arm up her back.
The blond of her hair has given way to an ashen hue but still he can see stars sparkle in the colour.

Her skin has acquired wrinkles when she smiles - some deepening, others but a trace and he loves them all.
He knows that when he peeks into the mirror his own has countless lines edged into it: lingering echoes of sorrow, loss and, for the first time in his wartorn life, so many more of unadulterated joy.

His human body is aging, along with hers, but when he looks at her he only ever sees the wonder that is her existence: A golden timeline flaring, a future he was once denied to recognize. All those years ago when he found her in a store on Earth, on a day that should not have been of significance at all.

He can see it now though. There, in the window and the glass, is their reflection – his deity and the greying man, dancing to the music of the universe, and he is happy.

In a dark blue sky shooting stars complete the melody and have her stop for just a moment.

She has seen so much in her life, grand things and small, has learned of things which cannot be described in any language but there she is marveling at these fading jewels like she could reach out for them and dance among their number.

"Do you reckon, Doctor," suddenly she whispers, startles him, "they are far from home? Like us?"

She doesn't sound wistful, a soft smile on her lips and he finds himself answering.

"Probably, yes." In all honesty he doesn't know but chances are good that they are. It's the fate of the restless after all. "That a bad thing?"

Her chest ceases moving then, her gaze now shifting to lie on him. "As long as they're together?" She seems to consider this, a frown appearing on her forehead before she shakes her head and beams, decided. "No."

"Better with two then?" It's a hum; his voice is light with the hidden question while inside his heart beats a strangely excited rhythm.

Without any warning she twirls around, tugs gently on both his hands that still are wrapped so tightly around her fingers; sets him into motion again.
"You bet it is."

Her clear laughter washes over him and he is aware his own is joining hers even if he cannot hear it.

There are sounds and scents and pictures, but in this fraction of a second his world consists entirely of her: A rose in bloom, touched by time and yet as radiant as the never-ending dawn.

She moves to the music, carefree and content, beckons him to follow in her wake, his Goddess, and that's when he knows that for all the dark he has encountered he has been rewarded with the greatest gift of all.

He has mourned; broke and fought and burned but he wouldn't trade it in. Not when he is here, with her on a night so ordinary and fantastic, embracing a tomorrow no Time Lord before him has ever had the chance to live.

A future shaped by two hearts born by two souls, the Wolf and her Lord, singing to the tune that time and space create. For them. Until the stars burn out.