"So, how did this happen, hmm? It's actually perfectly logical. To me, at least.

"To begin with, you must understand that the most powerful being in this universe, and perhaps any and every universe, is none other than the TARDIS. It's very true. To control time is to control all matter and energy, as Rose amply demonstrated when she took in the Time Vortex. That's why the Time Lords imposed such strictures upon ourselves concerning the use of any TARDIS.

"I've been offered ultimate power more than once. The last time was when the Krillitane offered to let me in on finding the Theory of Everything. The time before that was when I took in the Time Vortex. It's entirely possible I could have held onto it for much longer than Rose did, used it with more skill. I am a Time Lord, after all.

"All I wanted, however, was to save the life of the woman I . . .

"I loved her."

"I can't stop thinking about him," Rose confessed to Jane in their session the following day. "It's not like I haven't had instant crushes before, but usually they were on guys my own age or crushes on teachers or what not. I don't just run across a bloke by chance, talk with him for two minutes, and get obsessed, y'know?"

"You said you thought you recognized him when you first saw him," said Jane. "Who did he remind you of, do you think?"

Rose thought about it for a few silent minutes. "This is going to sound really strange, but the truth is, he--he reminded me of the Brown-eyed Man. They don't look a thing alike, but there's something about him that I . . . I don't know how to explain it."

Jane made a thoughtful sound. "Perhaps you feel like this mystery man of yours is a safe outlet for these feelings. How long has it been since you had a date, Rose?"

"Dunno. Couple months, maybe. I haven't dated anyone seriously since Mickey and I broke up. I've been so busy with work and school, I haven't even been thinking about blokes." She looked out the window. "It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"How do you feel about that?"

Rose shrugged. "It doesn't bother me, actually. I'm tryin' to get my head on straight here. Getting involved with someone would be a complication I don't think I need right now."

"It's up to you to decide when you're ready to find a new relationship," Jane said carefully. "I'd encourage you to think about the qualities you value in a man for now. Perhaps this new crush of yours is a sign that your values are changing when it comes to what you look for in men."

"Maybe," agreed Rose. "He's so different from anyone I've ever felt this way about. Sitting there in the café talking to him, it was like I couldn't believe that this man, with all his education and experience, was really interested in anything I had to say--but he was. I'd swear at the end he was thinking of asking for my phone number."

"I'd be surprised if he wasn't," said Jane. "No complicated psychology there. You're a beautiful young woman, Rose, and very accomplished for your age. Men have been interested in women for far less."

"Men have been interested in me for far less," said Rose, rolling her eyes. "Or a few million more, which is even worse. And you know, normally I'd think a guy pushing 40 asking out a girl in her early 20s is a bit on the skeevy side, but him? He's definitely not skeevy. Just didn't give off that vibe."

Jane leaned back a bit, relaxing. "Well, if you want my opinion--which you must, since you asked for it--I'd say your crush on the mystery man is mostly harmless for now. I'd counsel you to not worry about it. Let it teach you about yourself and leave when it will."

"Yes, well, I'm sure it doesn't come as a great shock to hear me say that. I've loved a great many people in my lives, many of whom have accompanied me on my journeys. Was Rose any more special than any of them?

"Yes and no. It's really Rose's position in my life that sets her apart. She was the first person I came to love after the Time War, the first person I opened myself up to. It should be no wonder that I not only came to love her, but fell in love with her. There is a difference there--oh, I'm sure you know that. Just what your mum always told you, I'd wager. Anyway, I rather needed to fall hard for someone during my ninth incarnation, I think, just to get my hearts working again.

"At any rate, that was what spurred my action in saving her when she took in the Time Vortex. It may or may not come as a shock to you that any touch would have done to siphon off the energy. I chose a kiss because, quite simply, it was what I wanted. It was also what she wanted.

"How do I know that? Well, look what it brought about."

Naturally, Rose got asked out for a date the day after her appointment with Jane. And not by John Smith.

She'd been relaxing at a bookstore, trolling the aisles for something light and fun but not too sappy or fluffy, maybe with some sex because it had been so long since she'd Gotten Any that she was starting to forget what the big deal was, when she literally bumped into a very handsome man, knocking his books right out of his hands. He was perhaps in his mid-twenties, blond with hazel eyes, about her father's height, with a nice build.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," Rose gasped.

"It's quite all right," the young man reassured her, stooping down to pick up his books. He stood up, flashing the cover of one at her. "See? No harm done."

"The True Story of the Big Bad Wolf," Rose read. It was a children's picture book.

The man gave her a bashful grin. "For my niece. She's six on Saturday." He looked at the cover. "I always did think the wolf got a bit of a bad rap in all those stories. Can he help being a carnivore?"

"S'pose not," said Rose, grinning. "I might have to have a look at that one myself."

"Great interest in bad wolves?" the young man teased.

"No, little brother I like buying things for," said Rose.

The young man smiled at her and held out a hand. "I'm Aiden."

"Rose." She shook his hand.

They ended up sitting in the bookstore café, chatting. It was all very pleasant, and Aiden was very handsome, but Rose felt odd about it. Almost as if she were cheating on a boyfriend.

Aiden eventually glanced at his watch. "Damn. I'm going to have to go, but I'd love to continue this, Rose," he said. "Do you like Middle-eastern food? There's a new restaurant only about two streets over, and I've been looking for an excuse to go there. Is there any chance I could get you to go with me?"

Rose hesitated. There was really no reason she shouldn't go with him, she realized. He seemed very nice, he was easy to talk to, easy on the eyes, it would get her mother off her back . . .

But he wasn't the man she wanted to go out with.

Of course, she didn't know if she'd ever see Doctor John Smith again, and if she did, if he'd be interested in her or not. She was caught in an agony of indecision that seemed to stretch into minutes of awkward silence.

Fortunately, before she could formulate a reply, something exploded less than two streets away, rattling every window and dish in the café.

"What was that?" Aiden asked.

Rose was already halfway out the door, dodging through crowds of onlookers as she moved toward the site of the explosion. Her phone rang.

It was her father. "Rose, where are you? Are you all right?" he demanded, fear in his voice.

"Just up the street from the explosion. What was that?" she asked, not slowing.

"I don't know. There was a strange energy signature in the area. We sent operatives down to investigate it, but none of them are reporting in. I don't want you down there, Rose."

"You know me better than that," said Rose. "I promise I'll be careful."

"Fine, but if you get hurt, you're explaining it to your mother," said Pete, and she could hear his concern and love through his slight exasperation.

"Fate worse than death. Love you, Dad!" Rose disconnected and continued on her path toward the disaster area.

Smoke and dust billowed toward her, obscuring her vision, and she could hear screams and cries as she drew closer and closer to the site. As the smoke drifted, she got glimpses of the area. The explosion had caused the fronts of buildings on both sides of the street to crumble and collapse, and there was a small crater surrounded by scorch marks in the middle of the street. Her foot hit something soft.

It was a person. A man lay prone in the street, face bloodied and clothing torn. Rose knelt by him, feeling for a pulse. He was still breathing, so she set about performing first aid until emergency services could get there.

A hand closed on her shoulder. She whipped around to see Jake's face.

"What's happened?" she asked.

"It's Cybermen," said Jake.

She gasped. The Cybermen had disappeared over a year ago, to a different dimension, as far as Torchwood could tell. They'd kept alert to any signs of dimensional breaches, but to Rose's knowledge, there hadn't been any.

"We don't know how," Jake said, as if he'd heard her thoughts. "Just some strange energy readings, and then they were just here." He shook his head. "Something's wrong with 'em, though. The explosion was one of them. It suddenly overloaded and . . ." He trailed off, looking around. "This is what happened."

"I just talked to Dad," said Rose, still working on stanching the blood flow from the worst of the unconscious man's wounds. "He said no one's reported back to Torchwood yet."

"No, there's something interfering with our radios, but if you talked to him--which direction did you come from?" asked Jake. Rose was a bit disoriented, but pointed vaguely down the street. Jake nodded. "I've got to find the rest of the team, and then someone'll go to find a clear signal. Be careful, Rose." He disappeared back into the smoke.

Rose decided she'd done as much as she could for the man she'd been working on and moved away, looking for other survivors. She found two bodies and what she thought was part of a Cyberman before she found a woman who was stirring and moaning. "Here, lie still," said Rose, kneeling by her. It looked like the woman had a badly-broken leg, at the very least, with bone sticking straight through her trousers.

"Fancy meeting you here," said a familiar voice, and suddenly, Doctor John Smith was at her side, looking over the woman.

Rose's heart leaped. "Am I glad to see you!" she said. "I know basic first aid, but that's all. She needs more."

"I was eating lunch when it happened--whatever it was," he said. "Since I was so rudely interrupted, I thought I'd lend a hand."

That he did, very effectively. Rose assisted him as he took care of the woman as much as was possible until emergency crews could get through. She didn't notice that as she was comforting the pain-stricken woman, John Smith's eyes were watching her with something like wonder.

After she'd done all she could for the woman, Rose got up and continued her search for survivors. She found a few more with minor wounds and offered what help she could.

"Rose!" It was Jake's voice, sounding panicked.

Rose raced to him and gave an involuntary shriek as she saw the reason Jake had called her over: Mickey. Her ex-boyfriend-cum-best mate was lying prone, eyes closed, halfway buried in debris. Jake was clearing the rubble from on top of him, and Rose dropped to her knees, frantically seeking signs of life.

"He's breathing," she said, as much for her own benefit as Jake's. "He's a mess, though." A thought struck her, and she sat up, searching the area. "Doctor!" she called. "John!"

In a few moments, John Smith's tall form emerged from the haze. His light blue shirt was streaked with dirt and blood, the evidence of his efforts with the wounded. He knelt by Mickey and examined him quickly.

"His pulse is strong," said John after a moment. "He's likely got some broken ribs, though, and possibly some head injuries. There's not much I can do for him here, but--"

Mickey coughed and moved a little. "Mickey? You in there?" Rose asked, trying to keep panic out of her voice.

"Did we win?" Mickey grunted, and coughed again.

Jake grinned. "He's in there."

" 'S up for debate," said Rose in answer to Mickey's question. "You've looked better."

"Can you move your legs?" John asked.

Mickey opened his eyes, one of which was slightly crossed, and moved one foot. He grimaced in pain. "Think I broke something."

"I think you broke several somethings," said John.

"Who's he?" Mickey asked Rose.

"Doctor John Smith," said Rose.

"Nice last name." Mickey peered at John as if he were having trouble focusing.

Rose looked up at John. "John, meet Mickey Smith, one of my best mates."

"Nice last name," said John with one of his bright grins. "Maybe we're related."

"Never heard that one before," said Mickey.

"Never said it before," said John. "What hurts?"

"What doesn't?"

Before things could get really sarcastic, another explosion--fortunately, much smaller than the first--happened nearby. Jake forced Rose down and protected her and Mickey as debris rained down.

"Better check that out," said Jake when the debris shower stopped. He gave Mickey's shoulder a pat. "Take care, mate." He ran off in the direction of the explosion.

"Now, stop that," said John, drawing Rose's attention back from Jake and the other explosion.

Mickey was attempting to sit up. Judging by the look on his face, it didn't feel too good. John's hands gently pushed him back down.

"There's no telling what kinds of internal injuries you might have," said John.

"Do what the doctor says," Rose scolded him.

Suddenly, Mickey's eyes went wide. At the same moment, Rose heard something rattling and scraping behind her. "Rose!" Mickey shouted.

She whipped around to see a Cyberman pushing debris off of itself as it stood up not twenty feet away. Without thinking, she grabbed Mickey's sidearm and emptied the clip of armor-piercing rounds into the Cyberman. It staggered and, as several more shots rang out from outside Rose's field of vision--Jake's, she thought--fell. She lowered her weapon.

And realized John was staring at her, eyes wide. He recovered quickly. "Is that what they teach you at Vitex Industries?" he asked.

As a matter of fact, Torchwood did like to make certain its members were trained in self-defense and marksmanship as well as basic first aid, but Rose didn't feel like explaining that at the moment. "How about we talk about it later?" she suggested.

There was a crash and a scream from somewhere nearby. "Excellent idea," said John.

Emergency services had started filtering in, and Rose allowed John to direct them in to carry off Mickey. She went off on her own to find more people in need of first aid. She was grateful to note that the live victims actually outnumbered the dead by at least two to one, but there were a lot of them. The street had been full of lunchtime crowds, and though they'd obviously tried to flee upon sight of the Cybermen, it had happened so quickly that most hadn't gotten a chance to get out of range before the explosion. Rose offered aid and comfort where she could--a man bleeding profusely from a gaping shrapnel wound in his side, a woman half-buried under rubble, a child crying and crawling out from under her mother's body--and kept an eye out for more Cybermen. She spotted more Torchwood operatives either gathering information or protecting and aiding the victims and emergency workers.

The sun had almost left the sky before Rose finally decided there wasn't anything else left that she could do. She was cold, exhausted, covered in dirt and blood, her whole body aching from the physical labor and her heart aching from the sight of all the injured and dead. As emergency services carried off the woman she'd been helping, Rose stood and stretched her tired muscles and looked around.

In the deepening twilight, Rose saw John Smith directing another emergency crew away, carrying a man on a stretcher. She stopped and watched him, admiring the simple grace with which he moved, his calm and commanding presence, his obvious compassion for the wounded and grieved. If she had to pick someone on whom to fixate, she thought, he was not an unworthy target.

His eyes caught hers, and without making a conscious decision to do so, Rose was moving toward him. Everything else faded away to background noise as she drew nearer, and it didn't even occur to her that she might be unwelcome as she walked right into his arms. And he held her tight, so tight she could barely breathe, her heart felt like it would burst, and she wanted nothing more than to never move from this spot and this man.

"Rose." His voice was hoarse in her ear, tight with the same longing she felt. She pressed even closer, burying herself in his arms and chest, feeling like she was soaking him up through every pore, and he was filling the emptiness that had haunted her for almost a year.

She murmured his name, shifting so she could look him in the face, and he was kissing her. It was unlike any kiss of her life--tender, loving, full of wonder. She kissed him back, threading her arms up around his neck. This moment, this man, was all she knew. It felt sacred.

It was only when he finally lifted his head and brushed a hand across her cheek that she realized she was crying and he was trembling. He lowered his head to press his forehead against hers.

"Feels like I waited my entire life for this," Rose whispered.

"I know," he whispered back, and kissed her between the eyes. "I don't even know who you are, Rose Tyler. How did this happen?"

"Dunno." She snuggled in close to him again, laying her cheek against his chest. He was just the right height, she decided. "Can't make myself care, either. Whatever this is between us, it's good. Better than anything I've felt in forever, it feels like."

He kissed the top of her head, running a hand into her hair as he held her. "I know exactly how you feel." For a long moment, they just stood like that, peaceful in the midst of destruction. Then John shifted, pulling back to look at Rose again. "I have to go to the hospital. My work's not done yet. But Rose, I'd like to--to call you when I'm free."

He looked so nervous that she almost laughed, but instead gave him a reassuring smile. "Of course you can. Been wishin' you got my phone number back at the coffee shop."

"Phone. That's helpful." He gave an unsteady laugh, letting her go enough to pull a slim phone from his pocket. "What's your number?"

Rose also laughed, pulling out her own phone. "I got one of those, too. You give me your number so you can't chicken out of calling me."

"I never chicken out of calling women," said John archly. "Anyone who tells you differently probably knows me entirely too well."

"Well, I won't let you get away with that."

They exchanged numbers, and as John slipped his phone back into his pocket, Rose moved in close again and was rewarded with another kiss. "I'll call you tomorrow," John murmured against her lips. "I promise."

"Good." She pressed another quick kiss against his mouth, and then he pulled reluctantly away to follow the emergency crews.

And in the chilly London evening, Rose felt warmer than she had in a long, long time.