Red

It was New York in the late 1980s. This December had been a bit warmer than the previous ones. Instead of heavy jackets and scarves, people wore light sweaters and even sandals. The Doctor shook his head as he stood across the street from a boutique his companion had run into about 30 minutes before. He'd surprised her with what he thought was going to be New York in the winter, but that was hardly the case. There were taxi cabs lined up along the street, a bustle of people in the early afternoon.

He was impatient. It was in his nature. That's what he kept telling himself as he paced back in forth in front of a shoe store window. Rubbish store – they didn't even have any of his favorite sneakers. The Doctor looked down at his black-Converse-covered feet and smiled. It was the one thing that remained from what he always wore. He'd traded in his pinstripes and a heavy coat in favor of a sleek tux. He hardly liked to dress up, but he was taking Rose to a matinee of a one-man show of A Christmas Carol (he was surprised that such a story could be a one-man show, and he thought that the leading-one-man himself seemed quite familiar, still, he shrugged it off) and then a late dinner after – he wanted to look his best.

The Doctor coughed suddenly, choking on nothing but air. He had no intentions of thinking as to why he wanted to look his best.

Either way, Rose thought it was highly unfair (though, where Rose got this from, he would never understand) that he would have something so posh to wear and that she had to settle for whatever she could find. He knew that she adored the wardrobe on the Tardis and understood that it had to do more with being in New York where everything seemed posh. In the end, he couldn't resist the pout that surfaced as she looked at his suit.

He had to admit, the tux fit him rather nicely – except that the bowtie was bothering him. He missed his tie.

Doing a rather excellent imitation of the Tyler pout, he had failed to hear the Tyler in question's calls to him.

On the third, "Doctor!" he finally stopped his pacing and looked across the street. Instantly, the noises of the city melted into their backdrop and all he could see was her. Rose was dressed in the most exquisite red dress. It was clingy in all the right places and hugged her curves the way he had never seen before.

Not that he'd been looking.

Her hair was loose and wavy – it's natural state. It was flying this way and that around her and yet it didn't seem to bother her. Her make up was light as far as he could see. She looked like an angel – and instead of finding the thought cheesy, he realized that it was the best description possible.

The only thing that made it from seeming completely true was the dark red gloss that clung to her lips – that made her appear all too…

Stop it.

Oh, right.

He shook his head (as if that would make the thoughts go away) and was ready to call out to her to stop walking so he could help her along. However, before he could do that, he saw her smile at the oncoming cars and one by one they all seemed to be stopping for her. Oh, but why wouldn't they? he thought. Gracefully, she weaved her way through the halted taxi cabs until she was safely on the other side with him.

The Doctor couldn't keep his eyes off of her and her curves – he tried, he really did but it appeared futile. She looked stunning.

The staring may have been a bit too intense as he noticed the crimson filling her cheeks. He smiled tenderly at her.

"You look…." What could he say? Gorgeous? Beautiful? Nothing seemed right enough and yet it all fit.

Rose chuckled nervously, pulling her dresses' short train off the street, "Thanks."

He held out his arm to her, "Shall we, Dame Rose?"

She laughed, more heartily this time, and took his arm, "Of course, Sir Doctor."

They walked down the sidewalk in comfortable silence when Rose said, "Thanks for the early Christmas present – always wanted to see New York in the winter."

The Doctor laughed, "Rose, this is in no way New York in the winter," Rose looked at him, her eyebrow raised, he backpedaled, "I mean, of course it's New York in the winter…technically…but it should be snowing and you should be bundled up instead of nearly…" half-naked, he almost finished.

Rose's eyes widened but she didn't comment on it. Thankfully.

"Well, I still always wanted to see New York – so thank you," she smiled at him with glee and he felt his hearts swell.

He grinned at her and tugged at his bowtie, the one uncomfortable detail of the day.

Rose stopped and pulled his hands from his collar, "Stop doing that, you're gonna ruin it." She proceeded to fix his bowtie, her hands dangerously close to his neck and leaving him with nothing to do except look down at her.

It was so domestic, her fixing his collar like that. It frightened him, just how much he liked it.

Suddenly, a passerby bumped rudely into Rose, causing her to fall towards him. He held on to steady her and wound up with his hands on her lower back – which is how he noticed just how low the back of the dress actually dipped. He swallowed hard.

"How rude," she commented, but just as soon as the angry crease appeared on her forehead, it disappeared. Her concentration was back on fixing his bowtie.

"I might as well take it off, I can't stand it," he commented, hands still on her back.

Rose didn't seem to mind as she looked up at him – hands still on his chest.

"Yeah, but bowties are cool," her tongue pressed against teeth in the smile that heated his hearts.

Grinning back, teeth glistening, he nodded and whispered, "Yeah, I guess they are."

Wrong

Rose walked nervously around the barren landscape. There were dead plants everywhere around her and the air was crisp. Each time she inhaled, it bruised her lungs. She couldn't understand why, but the planet felt wrong. She hadn't seen the Doctor in about an hour and he never took that long in getting back to her.

She heard a bird or some kind of animal off in the distance, the noise surprising her. It had seemed that they were the only two on the planet. If there were birds, there could be other things lurking in the dark. Rose shivered in her coat, her worry for the Doctor increased exponentially.

Nice way to spend a Christmas Eve, she thought sadly. He had promised her that they would go and have a proper Christmas with her mum and Mickey at the Estate. She knew he didn't like it there, that it was all too domestic for him, but he had promised.

He wouldn't even have to stay, he could just…, Rose found that she couldn't finish the thought. She wanted him with her…all the time.

That's what made this so much harder.

Honestly, she would have run off by then – wandered off being her jeopardy-friendly self, but she didn't want to move without him this time.

Her hand itched to be in his.

When had it began? she thought. She couldn't capture the moment in which her hand seemed created to fit in his.

Rose could see the Tardis off in the distance on a hill. For a second, she considered going back and keeping warm, but how could she when he was out there somewhere?

She felt tears sting her eyes suddenly at the thought of something horrible happening to him. Idly, she thought of his Christmas gift hidden under her bed. It was an exquisite leather-bound copy of poetry by John Keats. She'd heard him mention it once in passing and took note of it for whenever they stopped at home or in some other time and place where she could find a copy of it.

Of course, she figured that he'd probably already have a copy, but it was the only gift that seemed to fit. Maybe he'd read some to her – she had never been keen about poetry.

She continued walking about, in circles it seemed, focused entirely on his imminent return.

Somewhere near her, a branch broke and she turned toward the sound. A deep breath escaped her as she saw her Doctor, big ears and all, walking toward her.

Scratch that, he was running. Running rather quickly.

Uh oh.

"Rose!" he shouted, "Run!"

He didn't need to tell her twice. Immediately, Rose turned and ran to where the Tardis stood. The air beat inside of her lungs as her legs carried her as fast as they could. She dared not look behind her, the sound of the Doctor's heavy boots her only consolation. He caught up to her and held out his hand. Grabbing it like it was her lifeline (which it was), they ran even faster toward their destination.

This running was different. It wasn't full of fun and smiles. Only determination.

It felt like forever, but must have only been minutes when they reached the Tardis. He unlocked it quickly, grabbed and pushed her inside before barging in himself. The Doctor ran to the console, pushed and pulled and thumped, sending them into the vortex.

Rose stood frozen against a coral beam, air rushing through her lungs and throat until it left her only to be gasped back in again. She stared at him and his somewhat shaken form.

He looked up at her suddenly, his eyes showing some emotion that she only remembered seeing once long ago.

Without a word, she walked steadily across the grating to him. The Doctor stood eerily still, watching her every movement.

She couldn't describe what she exactly needed or wanted. Rose just wanted to…look at him. Wanted to know that he was there…really there. She reached out, her hand on his jacket.

Then the tears boiled over. They had built up waiting for him, her eagerness to see him being the only thing that kept her together. And without her realizing it, she was grasping at him, pulling him into a much needed embrace. She didn't know what had been after them, didn't really think she wanted to know. Rose only understood that she had wanted him at her side on that planet where things just felt…wrong. And that, for a moment, she thought she had lost him.

The Doctor hugged her tightly, cradling the back of her head. She could feel him smile, his cheek grazing hers.

"Talk about a merry Christmas," his voice lacked its usual strength.

"Oh, shut it," she demanded as she hugged him tighter.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading :D