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

"Well...I don't know if I remember all the steps to do it properly. Dancing, that is."

"Right," Rose said with obvious skepticism.

"Nothing for it, really." He released an exaggerated sigh. "You'll just have to teach me."

Just as he suspected, Rose could hardly argue with such a proposition. She brought his head down, tangling her hands in his hair, kissing him firmly. He parted his lips and they twisted and twined together. He was overwhelmed by the stimuli pouring in through his sensory receptors. He didn't notice her hands had moved, until her fingertips pressed against his skin just there. He gasped and grabbed her shoulders to steady himself as her presence solidified in his mind. Burning gold and so very close to eternal.

He had few barriers when it came to Rose, fewer still since they had become intimate. A mere handful against his darkest thoughts with which no one else should be burdened. But she didn't know that. Couldn't know that. She was human. In any situation it should have been necessary for him to provide the connection.

When he finally opened his eyes again, she was giving him a coy smile.

"Told you I practiced."

"That you did," he whispered, still more than a little bewildered by what his amazing Rose had accomplished. He could feel her now, so much clearer than before, and he realized that this time it might not fade away. There could be a true bond between them. "We could..."

"Yeah," she said, serious now.

"Brilliant," he said, voice rough as he leaned in to kiss her. This time their tongues met with slow deliberation, every stroke infused with meaning. When they finally pulled apart, he skimmed kisses along the edge of her jaw, the soft pressure of lips on sensitive skin causing her head to tilt back. Appreciative of this new angle, the Doctor moved to leisurely sample the curve of her neck. Abruptly he paused, saying crisply, "Shirt. Off."

"In a hurry, Doctor?" Rose asked, taking a shaky breath.

"You were injured, remember?" he said, stepping away and opening a drawer.

"Oh." She had in fact completely forgotten. "That pain killer you gave me was somethin' else." She turned her back to him and lifted her shirt over her head.

"Yep. Won't last much longer, though."

She heard the drawer snick shut and then his hands steadied hers against the bandage. "Here. Let me." He carefully shifted the gauze away from her skin and switched on the dermal regenerator, running it slowly across her back. Rose winced as skin knit back together and he squeezed her shoulder. "Sorry. Just another minute."

She caught a glimpse of his sleeve near her shoulder. "I didn't ask. Before. What's with the blue?"

"Thought I'd try something new. Don't you like it?"

"It's...different."

He chuckled. "Yes, it is that." He set the dermal regenerator on the table. "There. All done. Finito." He stroked his fingertips across her now unbroken skin and she shivered in response. "All right?"

"Yeah." She turned to face him. "More'n all right."

"Good. No itching," he admonished.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Rose insisted, running a finger down the length of his tie. "Got other things to do."

"Right." His voice strayed to an unusually high register and he cleared his throat. "I believe, Rose Tyler, that we left off..." He laid a kiss upon her cheek. "...just about..." Another along her jaw, pressing two fingers against her chin to tilt her head back. "...here." His tongue slid down her neck and Rose found that all of her thoughts ended up in a hazy jumble after that.

She barely heard the ringing emanating from her jeans. "I have to..." she started, but then he dipped beneath the edge of her bra and "Oh..." If only he would keep still for a second, she could focus. But he appeared more than determined to prevent any further interruptions. "Mum," she finally said.

Instantly, the Doctor stopped his focused perusal of her shoulder. "Wha--?"

Rose shushed him and pushed against his chest to give herself a little space, retrieving her mobile from the back pocket of her jeans at the same time. "Hi, Mum. Yes, she's fine. I'm fine."

The Doctor allowed his hands to fall away from Rose's waist. If there was one person in all of time and space who had as big a gob as him, it was Jacqueline Suzette Tyler. It appeared that once again things would not be advancing as rapidly as he had hoped.

"What do you mean, 'unconscious'? I wasn't..."

The Doctor mussed his hair while putting on the appearance of studying the blank monitor. Rose narrowed her eyes.

"Yeah. Dropped Mickey off. Still at Torchwood. Hope's asleep. I don't wanna wake her." She raised a hand to smooth her hair. "Mum!" Before Jackie could add further details to her assumptions, Rose interrupted, "We'll be back first thing in the mornin'." Then she ended the call. "Unconscious?"

"Nah. Exhaustion, more like it. All that stress. Running. Telepathic beings in your head. Broken glass. Me being rude. See? Lots of reasons. You were just all tuckered out." He rocked back on his heels. "Or maybe Jackie needs to see an optometrist. And have her hearing checked. I told her you were having a kip. Didn't believe me. Then again, when does she ever?"

While he rambled, Rose picked her shirt up and slipped it back on. When her head emerged from beneath the fabric, she noticed that the Doctor looked incredibly put out. She held out her hand and he hesitated briefly before taking it. "I just wanna check on Hope," she explained.

He nodded and let her lead them into the hallway. Rose opened the door just enough to see the bed where their daughter still slumbered. Confirming that the occupant was still dozing, she softly shut the door.

"She never sleeps this long. Always wakes up and refuses to go back to bed."

"I'm afraid that goes with being time sensitive." The Doctor rested his chin on Rose's shoulder, hands capturing her waist. "The TARDIS will ward off nightmares until she's old enough to face them."

"Thought it was because she didn't need sleep. Like you."

"Ah. She'll need less sleep as she gets older."

Recollecting the dark circles she had noticed when he arrived, Rose turned in his embrace to face him. "How long has it been since you've gotten a proper night in?"

"Rose, I barely need an hour every..."

"How long?"

"Not...very."

"Doctor..."

"All right, a while. It's been a while. Can't remember how long exactly, but I haven't keeled over yet, so it can't possibly have been very very long, eh? "

"Sleep," she said, taking his hand and pulling him down the hallway.

"What?"

"Come on."

"But--?"

"You'll need it. Trust me." She bumped his shoulder with hers as they reached the door to his room. "'Sides, I'll keep you company."

It was a subdued lullaby that coaxed Hope awake. For a moment she was disorientated, hugging her koala closer as she peered over the edge of the duvet at the unfamiliar room. And then she remembered her escape with the man who knew her mum and his ship that felt so familiar. At the edge of her mind she could sense it. And him.

There was a fluffy robe draped along the end of the bed and a pair of slippers next to the night table. Slipping into the robe, Hope cautiously opened the door and surveyed the hallway. She shuffled across the metal floor until she found a partially open door. It led to a rather normal looking kitchen for a spaceship, with plenty of cabinets and the customary appliances. The Doctor was seated at the counter, brooding over a mug of tea and a large battered volume. He had changed to a brown suit and it made him look considerably more at ease. Spotting her in the doorway, he looked up and smiled.

"Good morning." He removed his glasses and rested them on top of the book. "Your mum's not up yet."

"She's never up this early," Hope said, rubbing the last bit of sleep out of her eyes. "Neither is Herbert," she added, establishing the whereabouts of her stuffed companion.

"Well, we'll let them sleep in. Something to eat?" He slid his chair back and stood, running a hand through his hair. "I'm brilliant at pancakes. Well, when I say brilliant, I mean good. Actually, maybe decent is more appropriate. Your mum never complained. Asked for seconds even."

"I like mine with blueberries," Hope said, coming to stand beside him.

He opened the fridge and was surprised to find it better stocked than it had been for a long time. "The TARDIS must have read your mind."

"Can she do that?"

"No. Just emotions really." He cocked his head for a moment, considering. "Oh...well, maybe for you. If you want her to." He placed the blueberries on the counter and returned to the fridge for eggs, milk and butter. "I only let her know certain things. Sometimes she can be a little bit nosy."

"She's the gold presence in my head."

"Yep."

"Mum's almost the same color." Hope tilted her head, giving him a careful appraisal. "You're burgundy."

"Something to drink?" He crouched down to peer into a lower cabinet. "I think I have Venusian hot chocolate somewhere."

"Never felt anyone else before."

"Right. You wouldn't really. Unless you had some sort of bond with them." His entire arm disappeared inside the cabinet as he continued rummaging. "Or...they broke through whatever barriers you had."

"Is that why...?" she asked, taking a step back towards the door.

"No!" The Doctor raised his head so fast that it hit the counter. Rubbing the impacted area, he spluttered, "No. I would...I would never...I...that is...you..." At a rare loss for words, he set the tin of cocoa on the floor and turned toward her. He reached out and paused, hands wavering just short of her head. "May I?"

Hope nodded and the Doctor moved forward slowly, mindful of what a shock this type of connection might be for her young mind. He reached beyond the periphery of his thoughts and drifted through the edge of hers. The connection surged between them and what it meant was undeniable. He was conscious of the tiny flicker of doubt in her mind and he hastened to reassure her.

Yes. It's true.

She inhaled sharply and he let go. There was a moment of silence as the revelation sunk in. The Doctor waited patiently, a crease of worry spreading across his brow. Hope did not leave him in limbo for long. She stepped forward and embraced him, burying her head in his shoulder.

Speaking softly, the Doctor cradled her against his chest, "Oh, my precious girl." He placed a kiss against her hair and looked down at her with an enormous grin. "Now, this has definitely become a situation that requires pancakes."

Hope's smile mirrored his as they separated and he rose to his feet.

"Knew you were important," Hope remarked, climbing onto a chair beside the counter. "Mum's got a picture of you in her sock drawer. Doesn't know I found it. You don't hide things there unless there's a very good reason."

"She didn't tell you anything?" he asked, measuring the ingredients into a chipped ceramic bowl.

"She said she'd tell me all about it when I was older. When it was safe."

He stopped stirring. "Safe? Safe from what?"

"Dunno," she said with a shrug. Then her expression shifted to one of awe. "You have a space ship."

"Yes." He smiled and returned to finishing the batter.

"An alien space ship," she continued, as though verbalizing the thought would help make it more commonplace.

"Yes. That's...Oh." The Doctor blanched as he realized the conclusion his daughter was no doubt reaching. "Right. You're um..." He took a deep breath and let the words spill out in a jumble as he exhaled. "...not really exactly entirely human."

To his astonishment, Hope didn't seem surprised or in any way upset by the news. "That's probably it then," she stated.

"What?"

"They don't like aliens where Mum works." She said, shifting in the chair. "They say they're all dangerous. Mum doesn't agree with them. Obviously." Noticing the Doctor was now at a complete standstill, she asked, "Shall I make the chocolate?"