When she and her current Doctor had a disagreement, she usually wished for her first Doctor back. He would not have behaved like a daft git, she would tell herself in those moments. He would have been charming and solicitous and perfect. In her head, they were two vastly different personalities. And they were different. The very silence of the Doctor who she was following at the moment drove that home. The new, new Doctor could never have stayed silent so long.

But she had forgotten how much about them was similar. They even walked the same way, no matter where they were, as if they owned whatever planet and time period they happened to be on and in. The same man, she thought. The same man as the one she'd woken up next to that morning, catching him in one of his strange, infrequent, adorable catnaps. And yet, at the same time, she missed him so bloody much.

They reached a gate, and Rose realized they'd come to the end of the garden. The Doctor paused and nudged the gate open, glancing around it. The coast apparently clear, he slipped through, evidently just expecting she would follow. The arrogance never changed either, she thought as she squeezed through the gap in the gate.

He had already begun walking, and she had to hurry to catch up to him, and then he stopped so abruptly that she nearly ran into him.

He turned to face her, frowning thoughtfully.

"What?" She whispered it so quietly, she barely heard it herself.

"Your ruddy hair." His voice was a low growl. "We've got to cover it. A blonde in Troy sticks out like a sore thumb. Even a bottle blonde."

She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him.

Then, he startled her by reaching out very quickly, firmly grasping a length of the gauzy garment she was wearing, and tearing a good chunk of it off. She gasped in startled surprise.

"Shh," he said, and then, without warning, he settled the length of cloth on the top of her head and, a hand holding either end of it, slid his hands under her hair, against her neck.

Rose's eyes widened, as he took a step closer to her, concentrating on his task. He was close now. Close enough so she could smell him, that achingly familiar smell. He was knotting the two lengths of cloth together, his fingertips brushing against the back of her neck. Her eyelids fluttered closed, as an intoxicating warmth flowed through her.

Rose had expected complications when she had fallen in love with an alien. First and foremost had been the concern that they might not be physically compatible, which had turned out not to be a problem. Unless you considered mind-blowing sex to be a problem, which Rose did not. But one of the complications she had not anticipated had been the possibility that she could be reacting to the touch of the man she was shagging and yet feel like she was cheating on the man she was shagging.

She dragged her eyes open. The Doctor was watching her curiously, his blue eyes catching all of the dim moonlight and lasering it back at her. He probably thought she was thick. Here she was, a seasoned traveller of space and time. About time she acted like it.

"Right," she said, keeping her voice low. "Let's go." And she walked firmly away from him, setting the course.

He caught up to her, and, after a moment of silence, suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled her around a corner. She was momentarily flummoxed, staring down at their joined hands. It felt exactly the same, and yet totally different. And so damn familiar.

Then she heard the footsteps. Of course he had heard them before she did. Advanced sense of hearing and all of that. Three soldiers, moving very quickly. Practically running. Out of breath.

"...something to do with that strange-looking man who climbed over the wall," one was saying.

"You mean the one in the long cloak? With the strange footwear?" asked the other.

"Yes, he…" They had rounded a corner. Rose couldn't hear any more of the conversation. But she knew exactly who they were talking about.

"Come on," murmured the Doctor, pulling her forward, their hands still entwined.

"We need to go over the wall," she said.

He looked at her like she'd gone mad. "We need to what?"

"We need to climb over the wall."

"Climb over the wall?" The Doctor looked up at the wall towering over him. "What sort of bloody, foolish, attention-seeking git would climb over the wall of Troy?"

Rose bit back her laugh. "You did."

She had never seen the Doctor look so astonished." i I /i did?"

"The bloke with the long coat and the strange footwear that climbed over the wall? That's you."

"Long coat?" The Doctor looked down at his leather jacket.

"You don't wear that coat anymore. You wear this coat that goes down to your ankles." Rose gestured vaguely at his ankles.

The Doctor looked horrified. "Don't tell me any more. You've already told me too much."

"Right. So. Over the wall, then." Rose stepped forward, grasped handholds.

"Rose."

"What?" Rose grunted as she pulled herself up to the next handholds, searching for footholds.

"We could just use the sally port."

She looked down at him. He was standing next to quite a sizeable door in the wall. "Oh. You're right. We could." She grinned and jumped lightly down from off the wall.

The Doctor reached into his jacket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver, aimed it at the lock for the door, and eased it open. They found themselves in a stifling tunnel, no light or sound permeating the stone walls from the outside; it would have been claustrophobic with anyone other than the Doctor. Using his sonic screwdriver as a torch, the Doctor led them through the darkness, following its twists and turns until they reached another heavy door. After pausing and listening intently for what felt like several minutes, the Doctor adjusted the settings on the screwdriver and pointed the device at the door. He turned to her.

"Ready?"

She nodded. They slipped outside, and he closed the door behind him, giving it another blast from the sonic screwdriver. Then he looked up at the top of the wall and frowned. "No archers in addition to no guards. That's weird."

"Why? Maybe they don't stand guard at night," she suggested.

He shrugged and looked at her. "Why would I put the walls of the city of Troy between the two of us?"

"Off a guess? You were being chased. The soldiers weren't too happy to find you with me."

"Good thing I've regenerated then." He began walking away from the wall, at a casual pace.

"I didn't say you regenerated," she said, hastily, as she jogged to catch up with him.

"You didn't have to. I never wear a coat down to my ankles. And I didn't get executed during dinner, so they clearly didn't find me with Helen of Troy. And that's a good thing. And i that's /i the Greek army." He waved his hand.

Rose looked. . There were torches burning intermittently, in the middle of a sea of humanity that stretched an impossibly long distance. She halted, drinking it in. The Greek army. Of the Trojan War. He had stopped beside her, also looking. "Travelling with you," she breathed, staring at the troops. "It never gets old."

He was silent for a moment, then slid his hand into hers. And it didn't feel shocking. It felt exactly right. "It i is /i impressive." He began walking toward the troops, hand in hers. "I've never been on this side of the wall before."

"Really?"

"You sound surprised." He glanced back at her.

"Considering how much you love Odysseus, I can't believe you spent all your time in Troy."

"So you think I love Odysseus, do you?"

"Oh, it's worse than that," she complained. "You've got this little man-crush on Odysseus."

He stopped walking abruptly. "I've got a i what? /i "

"Oh, don't worry. It's cute. But you do."

He looked displeased, as he started walking again. "And what makes you think I feel this way about Odysseus?"

"You're constantly trying to read 'The Odyssey' to me. When we could be doing other things," she grumbled.

"Other things like what?"

Rose blushed before she could help it. She actually suspected the Doctor pulled "The Odyssey" out whenever he wanted to be seduced, because it was consistently what ended up happening.

"I think I should stop talking," she said, at the same time he said, "I think you should stop talking."

They walked in silence for a little while, getting closer and closer to the Greek encampments, until Rose drew to a stop. Because they were still holding hands, he stopped walking, too, and looked at her expectantly.

She licked her lips. She wondered what he would do if she just snogged the life out of him, just once, for old times' sake. She decided against that course of action. "Sooooo…" she began.

"So?" he said.

"We should probably…I mean, I'll…find you, and then…timelines…and such…"

"Are you trying to get rid of me, Rose Tyler?"

"No," she said, honestly, looking up into his eyes. "I'm not." She was suddenly afraid she was going to cry, which was stupid. She still had him, she reminded herself. He was somewhere in this crowd of Greek soldiers. Probably he'd found Odysseus and was bouncing around him like an overenthusiastic fanboy. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat.

"How are you going to find me in all of this?"

Rose glanced at the chaotic mass of human beings and smiled. "Oh, I'll just…look for the commotion. You're sure to be in the middle of it."

"You really think I'm abandoning you in the middle of the Greek army? I don't think so. It seems to me you're a bit jeopardy-friendly."

She grinned. "That's not the last time you're going to tell me that."

"Fantastic," he said.

She did that thing she knew he loved in both of his incarnations, sticking the tip of her tongue between her teeth as she smiled. "You love it," she told him.

The Doctor stood at the front of the Greek lines, specs on, and stared at the enemy: the wall of Troy. He didn't really need the glasses to see the wall, but they helped him think. And he needed to think. Because he needed to get to Rose. If Rose was still there when Helen showed up…and if anyone did anything to Rose…Well, if anyone did anything to Rose he'd have to tear down Troy brick-by-brick, and that would be total hell on the timeline, so it would be best to avoid that.

The Doctor took off his glasses and swept his coat back so he could bury his hands in the pockets of his trousers as began strolling toward the wall. He didn't have a clear plan at the moment, but if he could just get closer, maybe he could—

His eyes swept along the top of the wall. No archers. He would have expected archers. The walls weren't as well-defended as they could have been, as evidenced by the knot of Greek soldiers who had found him immediately after he'd launched himself over the wall. But he would have expected the front gate to have archers defending it.

He kept walking, and the thought occurred to him. Why couldn't he go right over the wall again? What was stopping him? There were no archers. He'd have to be very, very, very, very unlucky to climb over the wall and right into a Trojan patrol on the other side. And, anyway, he'd be careful about it.

He picked up his pace, walking more quickly now that he had a plan. He didn't look behind him. Surely no one would notice him. He'd made it this far.

As he passed the halfway point between Troy and the Greek army, his feet faltered a bit. There was a strange noise coming from the city. Not loud, just a low buzz. Like a hum of many quiet conversations.

The Doctor began walking more slowly. He gradually drew to a halt. He stood for a second, staring at the massive front gate of Troy, which was only a short distance ahead of him. Something, he thought, did not feel right.

And, at that moment, the gate was very suddenly thrown open and the entire Trojan army came pouring out with a dull roar.

The Doctor had time for one very eloquent curse before he turned to run.

The Doctor, with no effort at all, got them to Odysseus. He flashed the psychic paper and asked where Odysseus was, and just like that, a foot soldier was leading them.

"Why Odysseus?" she asked.

"Because apparently my latest incarnation has some sort of distressing crush on him."

She smiled. "Oh, like you can talk. You drove Dickens mad."

"Dickens?" he exclaimed in delight, eyes sparkling and face split into the grin she had loved. "Do I get to meet—No. Don't answer that. You shouldn't have said anything at all." He put on a stern face, the effect ruined by the excited brightness of his eyes.

"I know. I'm sorry. It slipped out. It's—"

The foot soldier stopped before a tent, distracting Rose from her apology. He disappeared inside, then re-emerged with a large, fairly handsome man. Or maybe he wasn't handsome at all, Rose considered. Maybe it was all the force of his quite considerable charisma.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Odysseus," said the Doctor, confidently. "This is Rose Tyler. And, if I'm not mistaken, you've got someone who's looking for her. So I'll just be—" He was clearly trying to slip away before running into his future self.

But Odysseus was frowning at Rose darkly. "Rose Tyler? The Syntagmatarcha was looking for Rose Tyler, wasn't he, Achilles?"

Another man had emerged from the tent. He also frowned at Rose. "I believe that was the title he gave, yes."

"Syntagmatarcha?" said the Doctor standing next to her, in disbelief.

"Why?" asked Rose.

The Doctor ignored her. "Well, where is the Syntagmatarcha? If you could see that Rose is safely delivered to him—"

"I haven't seen him," admitted Achilles. "Not for at least an hour. Not since we said we wouldn't launch an expedition to go into Troy to get Rose Tyler."

"No, he went for a walk, I think," agreed Odysseus.

"Oh, no," groaned Rose. "I'm gonna kill him. He's probably gone back into—"

There was a sudden dull roar of noise, causing Rose to jump, startled. Odysseus and Achilles were both wide-eyed for a moment, and then leaped into action, pushing roughly past Rose and the Doctor. They were suddenly in the middle of a sea of chaos, as soldiers went rushing around, shouting orders, grabbing helmets and armour and tack for horses. The Doctor tugged on Rose's hand to pull her close to him, as the army clamoured to life around them.

"What is it?" Rose asked.

"The Trojan army," he answered, grimly. "And I've got an idea they're looking for you. There. Get up on that," he said, as someone jostled into them. He nudged Rose.

Rose looked, saw a trunk not far from them, and clambered on top of it. The Doctor followed her.

Rose peered through the moonlight toward the awe-inspiring sight of the Trojan army pouring out of its city, in full attack mode. A great snake of an army. Chasing one single figure, running in a flat-out dash. With a long coat flapping in the air behind him. Rose blinked, watching the remarkable sight of her current Doctor outrunning the Trojan army, while her previous Doctor stood next to her. She turned to tell him.

He looked down at her, sighing in resignation. "That's me, running in front of the army, isn't it?"

She laughed. She couldn't help it. And she turned back to watch the spectacle. The fleeing Doctor was beating the army easily. She was not all that concerned that he wouldn't be able to make it behind Greek lines. She was concerned that she might not be able to find him once he did so. But, to her relief, the well-trained Greeks had already marched into a formation, and, as she watched, surged up to meet the Trojans. The Doctor ducked between the lines and past them, as they raced past him, and, in a moment, he was standing in the clear, turning to watch the battle that was now raging only a short distance away from him.

And she didn't think. It was odd, because she had spent all evening thinking how much she missed her old Doctor, and now that her new Doctor was so near, she could think of nothing but how much she had missed i him /i . She leaped off the trunk, shouting for him, and he somehow heard her above the commotion, because he turned in her direction. He looked thunderstruck to find her dashing toward him, but he also did exactly what she expected him to, which was to open his arms. She launched herself into the waiting embrace, and he closed his arms around her and swung her in an exuberant circle. She laughed, delighted, into the wonderfully familiar curve of his neck. Different smell. New, new Doctor smell. And it was nice, she thought. Just as nice as the old Doctor smell. She was doomed to always be missing one of them, she thought.

"I missed you," she told him, the din of battle growing softer as the fighting moved away from them.

"How the i hell /i did you find me?" he asked her, pulling back a bit to look down at her, astounded.

She giggled. "I figured you had to be in the middle of the battle."

He glanced over at said battle. "Yes, well…"

"I may have caused this particular battle."

"Doesn't surprise me in the least," he replied, and then he surprised her by kissing her. The Doctor was big on hand-holding and hugs but not fond of public snogging at all. Which was why she knew he had to have been more worried than he would ever admit, if he was giving her a breathless, intense snog like this right where anyone could see.

He came up for air. "Are you alright?" he gasped at her. "Truly?"

"I'm fine."

"If anyone laid a finger on you—"

"I'm fine."

He brushed his lips over hers again, and then went to bury his face in her neck. At least, she assumed he was about to do that, but instead he froze. And she knew instantly what he was looking at. She turned her head awkwardly. There was the old Doctor, a short distance away, watching them with his arms folded and looking not half gobsmacked.

"Oh," said the Doctor whose mouth was closest to her ear. He closed his eyes. "I should have known." He opened his eyes then, looking back at his previous self. "I've had the strangest feeling all day. It's kind of like…what you would call déjà vu. I kept thinking that I'd brought you here before. But I knew I hadn't. Crossed timeline. Of i course /i . How did I not recognize that immediately?" He sighed. "It's been a while, I suppose."

She looked between both Doctors. "Are you going to go talk to him?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"He's going to yell at me for, well, i us /i ." The Doctor looked displeased.

Rose was amused. "So?"

"So?!" he echoed. "Look at me! I'm all…dour and disapproving and dull and…other things that begin with 'd.'"

"Doctor-ish?" she teased.

He sighed. "And I bloody loved to give i lectures /i in that incarnation."

Rose had to laugh at that.

He looked at her finally, offended. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

He reluctantly extricated his arms from around her. "Stay here," he said. "Don't wander off." He emphasized the command with a slight jab of his index finger.

Oh, yes, she thought watching him. He was far more similar from incarnation to incarnation than he seemed to think.

"So," said one Doctor to the other.

"So," the other replied.

There was a moment of silence.

"Nice coat."

One Doctor brightened and glanced behind at the flow of his coattails. "Isn't it, though?" he agreed, pleased.

"Would it kill you to cut your hair once in a while?"

Now the Doctor looked hurt. "But it's i supposed /i to look like this." He paused. "Rose likes it."

"I'm sure she does." There was a pause. "You're travelling with a woman who's just been mistaken for the most beautiful woman in the world."

The Doctor glanced over his shoulder at Rose. "Welllllll." He tugged at his earlobe. "We have good taste."

There was another pause. "You're i shagging /i a woman who's just been mistaken for the most beautiful woman in the world."

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck and grinned bashfully. "Welllllll, we have good taste."

The Doctor shook his head a bit and regarded Rose, looking lovely in the moonlight as she watched the two of them. "I find it hard to believe that you really are…"

"With her?"

"Older than me."

"Ah." A moment of silence. "A gift from your future. Because I rather like the future you've got in store right now and I'd like to keep it that way." The Doctor turned away from Rose, back toward his previous self. "Ask her again. Tell her it travels in time."

There was another very long moment. They regarded each other across the gulf of their impossible shared future.

"Is your TARDIS in Troy?"

"Yes."

"So's ours." Another pause. He really hated conversing with himself. "Shall we get back into Troy?"

"I recommend using a sally port while the army's otherwise occupied."

"Excellent idea," he beamed.

The two Doctors were silent. She walked between the two of them as they skirted the slowly-waning battle and did not hold the hand of either, because she didn't want to upset the other. And holding hands with both seemed like a ridiculous thing to do, for some reason. The previous Doctor reached his sonic screwdriver first and did the honours of opening the door and lighting the way for them through the sally port; her current doctor fussed and made sure her hair was completely covered before they re-emerged into the fortress. They came to the current Doctor's TARDIS first, and they stood for a moment outside, a bit awkwardly, before Rose gave in to the impulse and gave her old Doctor a fierce hug. One last embrace, she thought, as she buried her face for a moment in his shoulder. A gift from her past. He seemed as if he didn't know what to do, then hugged her back.

She stepped away and grinned at him. "See you soon," she said. Then she turned to her current Doctor. "You, too." The tip of her tongue made its taunting appearance through her teeth, and then she ducked into her TARDIS.

He looked back at his prior self and remembered exactly what it felt like, without Rose and without Gallifrey and so deadeningly alone. He usually tried as hard as he could not to remember, because the memories, when they came, were always so painfully vivid. "It gets better," he promised.

"Does it?" Blue eyes met brown, solemn.

The Doctor sucked in a breath. "No," he admitted. He exhaled slowly. "But it gets bearable. And I don't think we can ask for more." He reached behind for his TARDIS door, opened it, stepped in. And remembered.

Remembered his astonishment at seeing Rose at dinner. Remembered how, even then and despite still smarting from her rejection in London, he was uncomfortably attracted to her. Remembered being surprised to see her climbing out a window in the darkness. Remembered the flicker of joy mingled with sorrow he saw on her face in the moonlit garden. Remembered the feel of holding her hand as they escaped through the city. Remembered his shock at seeing his future incarnation kiss her so freely and passionately. And he remembered his fear that he would screw up the future he saw once Rose was returned to his current incarnation.

Rose was on him immediately, startling him, bringing him back to the present, her face in his throat. He returned the embrace for a moment, wishing that he didn't feel that she wanted to be clinging to someone else. "You've had an emotional day," he sighed, finally. "I'm sorry."

"I missed you." She lifted her head to look at him. "I missed you terribly. Do you believe me?"

"Of course I believe you, Rose."

"I was so happy to see him, but I was just as happy to see you, and anyway, you're the same person."

"I know I'm the same person. You don't need to explain regeneration to me." He thought he sounded cross, so he softened it with a grin. "Where do you want to go next?" He stepped around her, began pushing buttons and levers on the console.

"No, I mean it," said Rose, in frustration, following him. "I miss him. I'll probably always miss him. But I had my time with him, and every moment of it was lovely. Now this is my time with you. Equally lovely." She took his hand and kissed his knuckle. She had his attention, she knew, because he'd stopped randomly flipping levers and was looking at her. "Someday, when you regenerate again, I'll miss i you /i . But then I'll have my time with the next you. And that'll be equally lovely, too." There was something in his eyes, deep in them. She thought that he didn't dare to hope that every Doctor was the same to her, every incarnation equally adored. She ruffled his hair and leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes. "Do you believe me?" she whispered.

He breathed her in, so close and so perfect, and thought how, in the moment before he had spotted his previous self, he would never in a million years have ever doubted how Rose felt about him. He closed his eyes and leaned into her and brought his hand up to stroke her cheek. "I do," he whispered back.

She felt him relax against her, felt the tension leave him, and she smiled in relief.

"I met Odysseus," he said, after a moment.

"I know. So did I."

"That's right. You did. Dammit. I really wanted to take you to meet Odysseus."

"You did." She said, reasonably.

"No. i He /i did. i I /i wanted to."

"Maybe after Odysseus gets home to Penelope, we can go meet up with him again and have a laugh about all this."

"How do you know about Penelope? We never get nearly that far in 'The Odyssey.'"

"I have my ways," she said, airily.

There was a moment of silence. "You've been reading 'The Odyssey' behind my back."

"Maybe. Did you embarrass yourself fawning over Odysseus?"

"Of course not!"

She giggled, then straightened and took his hand. "Send us into the Vortex, and then come read 'The Odyssey' to me."

He pressed a few buttons. "You mean that euphemistically, right?"

She graced him with that teasing smile again, and he smiled back and did something that surprised her. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, with a tender affection that once again reminded her that more was similar between her two Doctors than was different. "Where was it, in your timeline?" she asked. "I couldn't figure it out."

"Let's just say that right now, I'm sending the TARDIS back to a certain spot in South London so I can add that it also travels in time."

It took a while for their TARDIS to de-materialize. He didn't really want to speculate as to why, but he stood and watched until it had vanished entirely, even the vworp-vworp fading on the wind. Then he turned and trudged over to his TARDIS. It looked exactly as he had left it, which seemed unbelievable to him, considering how drastically different his life suddenly felt.

He stood at the console and regarded his scribbled Gallifreyan on the Post-It notes. He ran his hands over the controls, shifting them slowly and purposely. He stood for a moment, scanning the read-outs on the screen.

He needed to block his memories of meeting Rose—he'd seen too much for it to be safe. But for just a few moments, he wanted to savour them—to know there was hope in the bleakness that was his life. He grabbed the pad of yellow sticky notes and a Biro, and scribbled a quick note to himself: i Tell her it travels in time. It's worth it. /i He'd block the memory as soon as he pulled the last lever to go back to London, to ask Rose to come with him and give him that future he'd just seen.

Then he looked up at the centre column. "This once," he said, out loud. "Give me just this once. Bang on time. Perfect. Please." He took a deep breath. "I need this one."

He reached out and flipped up the last lever, and his TARDIS hummed into action.