Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.
Spoilers: Through Season Three.

Meeting adjourned, Rose's team filed back into their shared office and fired up their equipment. The Doctor circled the room, looking over shoulders and acting as uncooperative as possible. Rose knew from experience how hard he must be concentrating to remain uninvolved. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes and already his hands were twitching. Not that she was watching him. At least not so often that he would notice. The tension between them was becoming more palpable with every passing minute. Rose couldn't help feeling relieved when she looked up to find that the Doctor had forgone his own advice and wandered off.

The moment their visitor disappeared, Tish spun her chair to face Rose. "So, this Doctor bloke. That his code name? I mean, he's from another agency isn't he? Some high up at UNIT or what?"

Rose had no intention of elaborating on her relationship with the Doctor just yet. Or at all, if she could avoid it. If he left again, she wanted as few people capable of reminding her as possible. "Sort of," she finally murmured, hoping she sounded suitably disinterested.

"Sort of?" Tish leaned forward. "Who is he really?"

"Yeah. Why do we have to be so secretive around him?" Alex asked from across the room.

"Rose used to travel with him," Jake explained. "Simple as that."

"He's the mysterious man you traveled with? How'd you keep your hands off him?" Tish teased.

"We weren't like that. Not really. Most of the time, anyway." It had been years and still Rose couldn't mention that one night without blushing. "Is the trace working yet?"

Not wanting to admit how slow things were progressing, everyone silently turned back to their computers. Mickey coughed and said gently, "Why don't you rest a bit, Rose. We'll wake you when there's news."

Usually when the Doctor was this preoccupied he would wander his ship until he happened upon something that needed tinkering. In this regeneration, he also had a fondness for perusing the library. With a brain as massive as his, it happened a lot. This office left him with far fewer options for distraction. He started by peering over the shoulders of Rose's team and, with considerable effort, abstained from improving their computer network. Then he began pacing. The room wasn't very large and he immediately tired of his circular route. Daring one last glance at Rose, he slipped out of the room and ambled down the hallway beyond.

It had been a long time since his thoughts were in such turmoil. He had assumed that they would simply pick up where they had left off. The Doctor and Rose. Adventures all across the universe and plenty of chips. It was obvious from the events of the past nine hours thirty-two minutes and eleven seconds that that was not going to happen. Of course, he had calculated the probability of them easily continuing their old routine. The results were negative and he had tried to forget them altogether.

He also couldn't determine what he had done in the brief time since his arrival to make Rose so upset. For a moment, he wondered if he should have come at all. He shook his head, quickly brushing that notion aside. Sometimes he thought too much, all things considered.

Of course, Rose was probably well on her way in experiencing the one adventure he could never have. All of time and space couldn't compete with that. He couldn't compete with that. Even if she still...no, she couldn't possibly. He had never deserved such devotion and she certainly wasn't expressing those feelings now.

Tea! That's what they needed. One good cuppa and things would be better.

As luck would have it, he discovered a kitchen of sorts. Strewn across the counter were mismatched utensils, a variety of breakfast confections and a wide assortment of coffee selections. There was a small stove in one corner that appeared as though it had never been used. Take away appeared to be the sustenance of choice.

Scrounging through several cabinets, the Doctor assembled the accoutrements for making tea. It had been his favorite of their rituals. Well, second favorite after hugging. Third, after kissing. Although they hadn't really done that long enough for it to be considered a ritual. As the water warmed in the kettle, he leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. He tried to still his thoughts which were rampaging in a billion different directions all at once. Most of his current pondering was far more critical of Rose than she had ever deserved.

The shrill whistle from the kettle caused him to start and bang the top of his head on a low hanging cabinet. The rattling noise of the impact alerted him to the location of a pair of mismatched mugs. He set them on the counter and carefully portioned the water. When the tea had finished brewing, he paused, wondering if she took her tea the same. He shook his head. Of course she did.

He found Rose slumbering on a sofa in the lounge that abutted the main office. Someone, Mickey he suspected, had draped a thick woolen blanket over her. As much as he wanted to talk, he knew that humans required a substantial amount of rest and, based on his observations, Rose hadn't been getting enough for quite awhile. He placed the mugs on a side table and crouched in front of her. With a soft smile, he reached out and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. That was when it happened. He didn't mean to, really he didn't, but his fingers grazed her temple for a second and that was all it took.

Blue humanoids looking over him.
A little girl with wide brown eyes immersed in light.
Dawn overtaking a sky filled with stars.

The Doctor let go immediately, his face falling into an expression of shock. He had completely forgotten that their partial bond allowed for such transfers. And no matter how inadvertent the action had been, he felt a surge of guilt over what he had seen. He sincerely hoped Rose's nightmare did not correlate with what had occured earlier that evening. Because if it did he had questions. Lots of them. And it was essential that they be answered without delay. Starting with an explanation of what really happened.

Still trapped in her nightmare, Rose sobbed quietly and the Doctor returned his focus to her. Tentatively, he placed two fingers just above her ear. This time he shielded himself from her dream and projected soothing thoughts. Rose relaxed with a sigh. Certain she would now have a peaceful rest, the Doctor stood and walked resolutely back to the team's workspace.

Jackie had been pregnant, hadn't she? More Tylers on the way. And it had appeared as though the child resembled Rose to a certain degree. But how could this child possibly be connected to these Guardians, as they called themselves? It was possible it had simply been a nightmare. The psychological stress of the evening asserting itself in an imagined scenario. Completely normal, that. Still, better to check.

"Mickey! How's the search? Any leads, discoveries, epiphanies?"

Mickey sighed and turned to face the Doctor. "Not really. Slow going, y'know."

The Doctor leaned forward to get a better look at the readouts on the monitor and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "May I?"

"Sure. Can't hurt."

The buzz of the sonic screwdriver filled the room as the Doctor scanned it across the screen and typed something on the keyboard. He could tell that Mickey was exhausted and the fatigue was affecting his mental capacity. The Doctor didn't want to take advantage, honestly, but he was getting a tad desperate. "So...how's Jackie coping?"

"With what?"

"Raising another daughter. Pete's around this time, but still. Bound to be a handful if she's anything like Rose." The Doctor spoke quickly, hoping to brush over the unexpectedness of his inquiry. "Didn't see her at the party. Past her bed time, I'd imagine."

Mickey yawned. "Jackie? Have another kid? Dunno if they tried really, but--"

The Doctor promptly switched off his screwdriver and looked up to find Mickey wide awake and desperately trying to hide his panic.

"I mean, 'course they do. Daughter. Cute. Smart. Bundle of energy. Uh--"

Fixing Mickey with an acute stare, the Doctor crossed his arms and leaned back against the desk. "All right, Mickey. What exactly is going on?"

"I dunno what you mean."

"Mickey Smith, you are considerably braver than I ever give you credit for and you're reasonably brilliant when it comes to computers. You are, however, a terrible liar. I've met cactuses that can lie better than you. And all they have to work with is a lot of green and some very sharp needles."

"You should ask Rose," Mickey said quietly.

"I did ask Rose."

"Then I dunno why you're askin' me."

"She won't tell me," the Doctor explained with obvious indignation.

"Must have reasons." Mickey turned away and gestured toward the monitor. "Whatever you did worked. We gotta location. Someone will hafta wake Rose and tell her."

"Nah. Let her rest for a bit still. No reason to hurry, right?" The Doctor said briskly, putting away his screwdriver. "Where is it?"

"On their ship. In orbit." Mickey scratched his head. "Bit of a problem. Last capable space ship we had...well, there was this incident with interstellar frogs and we haven't got another one."