Rose stands with one hand on each of her children's shoulders. She knows it isn't the end; they'd explained it to her, both the children and the Doctor had. And she'd gleaned enough over her years as a time traveler to understand what they were talking about. It wasn't the end. Her children weren't going to their deaths, but they would change. Things wouldn't remain the same.

It was like regeneration and yet not. It was strange that she'd never prepared herself for something like this. The children were half-Time Lord after all, and regeneration was in their blood.

The truth was that she'd never expected to live long enough to go through something like this, even if this was extraordinary circumstances. She was still human, after all. Oh, she'd live longer than most because of her connection to the Time Vortex (she still can't believe what he'd risked to save her, but she knows in her heart she'd do the same). But still…she hadn't been ready for this.

Things are happening around her now, in slow motion, it seems. The children step away from her, little Gwyneth looking back and smiling. Jamie saying not to worry, it won't hurt them. It was their destiny.

She doesn't believe in destiny.

But then the Doctor meets her eyes and he's crying, and she knows then that she does believe in destiny. It's always been there, guiding her to him. She reaches up and touches his face, his tears moistening her fingertips.

Their children are becoming light and something more, something she can't name but she can feel it. There's a song in her head, being sung in their voices, and the beauty of it nearly rips apart her soul. The Doctor's arms are around her, and she leans close to him for one last kiss before the universe ends.

But it's not an end, they tell her. It's a beginning.

……………………………………………………………………………

"We won't remember this," he tells her, his hands cupping her face, rough and calloused against her cheeks. "All of this, all of what we've seen today will be erased from our memories."

"It doesn't make it any less true," Rose says, reaching up a hand of her own to caress his cheek.

They look at each other, and Rose feels what she always does when he looks at her like that; she feels more than herself, like she's no longer an ordinary human but part of something greater. She feels like her life had been spent in the dark, and now that he's come in and turned on the lights, there's no way she could ever turn them off again.

She feels time move through her, and she knows that whatever the Doctors were planning to save the universe, it was working. Things shift and slow, and she feels an urge to act before its too late.

If they'll never remember this, then there's nothing to lose.

She kisses him. Not a friendly kiss on the cheek, not a simple show of the affection that they both know is beneath the surface of every conversation. Rose gives everything she has to this one kiss, every ounce of herself. Her love, her anger, her passion, her grief…everything that has ever touched her or become part of her she gives to him.

And in that one brief, stolen moment in time, he gives her the same.

…………………………………………………………………………………

He pulls the trigger again.

Not because it's not his family, and not because he doesn't care. It's because he does care, and he wants to save them the pain. He takes the pain for himself because he knows he's survived it once. He can survive it again.

The Eye of Harmony bursts to life, its tendrils reaching across every aspect of space-time, every second exploding into white light, waiting to be molded. He finds himself falling under the strain of witnessing it; seeing what no one was meant to see.

It's not such a bad way to die, he thinks.

But he wakes again, in darkness this time, the only thing before his vision a white speck of light. It grows a bit, and he stands. He's not aware of his body, but he thinks it's still there.

Was this it? Death? Not much to it, if it was. Didn't one of Earth's many faiths mention something about a thousand naked virgins or something? At least that would've been interesting. Though, his luck…it'd end up being a thousand naked Raxicoricofallipatorian virgins.

"You're not dead," a voice says, at once both familiar and unfamiliar. It seems to come from everywhere and nowhere. It exists without actually being voiced.

Bit creepy, that.

The white light grows and he finds himself standing in the TARDIS, only part of it illuminated. By the controls stand the figure of a boy, who's smiling at him.

Jamie.

"Hello," he says.

"Hello," the Doctor replies, not quite sure what else to say. "Did it work?"

Jamie smiles. "Yes."

"But, you're not…"

"Not what?"

"Well, a geometric piece of temporal crystal, for starters."

Jamie laughs. "The Key is more than that."

He considers this, then nods. "So what now?"

"Now everything is set right again. Gwyn and I have reconstructed the other universes. Now it's your turn."

The Doctor scratches his head. "I won't remember any of this, will I?"

Jamie grins. "No, I think you will. I think you need to. Your universe is your problem, after all. Not mine."

The Doctor pauses. "Oh?"

Jamie shrugs. "I always liked Hugh Grant movies."

The remaining light grows brighter, engulfing Jamie within it before the Doctor can respond. Everything is blindingly bright, and then it's dark again.

As he sleeps, the Doctor doesn't see the two small figures of children bend down and kiss his forehead, then disappear.

………………………………………………………………………………………

It was an ordinary day for Rose Tyler. The alarm rang, she struggled out of bed, stumbling into the bathroom. She fell asleep with her head against the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. Her mum woke her up, and she had to go and change her shirt because she'd dribbled toothpaste all down it.

Brilliant. She'd wanted to wear the powder blue top, not the stupid gray one.

Work went like usual. She folded a stack of shirts, then ten minutes later folded it again because someone couldn't find the right size and had strewn the pile all over. She helped a woman in the dressing room find the courage to try on a swimming costume, then found herself patting the woman on the back as she cried and telling her that her thighs really didn't look all that bad. Maybe she should try a costume with shorts?

Rose made a few calls on her mobile at lunch, and ended up having chips with Shareen. That was the worst part about breaking up with Mickey; no one to have lunch with. He might not have been the best boyfriend, and he may have cared more about football than about her, but he had always been around. She couldn't fault him that.

When lunch with Shareen was done, she'd struggled through four more hours of shop life, then had been overjoyed at the chance to escape for the evening.

But, of course, it could never be easy, could it?

The stupid lottery money. And now she had to go and find Wilson. God, that basement creeped her out sometimes. All those dummies.

Rose wandered about, calling for Wilson, confused when his office was locked. She turned around, thinking she'd seen movement from the corner of her eye, but it was just a dummy.

A dummy that was moving.

Rose did a double take and stared. The shop window dummy was definitely moving, its plastic limbs creaking as it staggered forward. This was stupid, it had to be some sort of joke. "Who are you? What are you doing?" she said, trying to sound indignant and not scared. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Other dummies started moving, closing in around her. Rose stumbled against a wall and said with rising panic, "Alright, you can stop now. It's not funny anymore. Wilson? Wilson!"

She gasped as the dummies moved closer. Her brain was in overdrive, trying to figure out what was going on, but she couldn't really think coherently. One of the dummies raised its arm as though ready to strike her, and while her brain rebelled against the thought of being attacked by shop window dummies, she flinched and ducked.

But then someone moved in front of her, swinging a metal pipe, and the dummies were knocked backwards. Rose stared in disbelief as a tall, handsome man dressed in some sort of Victorian costume turned round and dropped the pipe. He smiled, and it lit up his pleasant face, his blue eyes sparkling.

She gaped at him as he stepped forward and took her hand in his, helping her to her feet. Glancing back over his shoulder, she saw the dummies start to move again, and she pointed at them, still incapable of speech. He looked at them, then looked back at her and grinned.

"Ah," he said, his voice smooth and cultured. "Well, then," he continued, his long fingers closing around hers, "shall we run?"

And with that, her life changed forever.

…………………………………………………………………………………

The TARDIS shuddered, and Rose was tipped out of bed. Groping along the wall, she pulled herself to her feet and blinked the sleep out of her eyes. The TARDIS shuddered again, but she held on.

The hell?

"Doctor?" she yelled, but there was no response.

She poked her head out of her bedroom door way. "Doctor?" she called again, and this time a reply came, but all she made out above the sounds of thunking and thudding was to hurry her ass up.

"What?" she yelled back.

"Emergency!" she heard him reply.

Great. Rose ducked back into her room and pulled on a pair of jeans and the first t-shirt that came to hand, not even bothering to look at it. She raked her hair up into a haphazard ponytail, tucked her feet into some shoes and sprinted for the control room.

The Doctor grinned at her as the TARDIS decking bucked beneath her feet and she fell against a railing. "You alright?" he called, tugging on his black leather jacket and helping her to her feet.

"Fantastic," she said. "What's the emergency?"

He grinned. "It's mauve!"

………………………………………………………………………………

The smell of ozone woke him.

The Doctor groaned and rolled over, pushing himself off the grating of the TARDIS control room. There was a sharp pain in his head, and as he reached up gingerly he felt blood. He looked at the consol and saw a spot of blood on the edge. He must've fallen and smacked his head on it.

There was much sparking and hissing from the controls, and from some circuits below the grating as well. He reached across the panel and flicked a switch, and some of the sparking stopped. He was about to switch off the power and make repairs, but he noticed he was in flight.

To where?

He glanced at the screen. London, England, January the 18th, 2007.

Ah. Memory started to stir in his mind. Alternate versions of himself, different Roses, even children…creating an Eye of Harmony, saving the universe. But why did he remember it? The timelines were supposed to reset.

He vaguely remembered hearing something…someone's voice telling him that his universe was his problem.

Heh. Cheeky little twerp. Good to know his son turned out just like him.

Son. That was still a strange concept. He'd never considered having children. Susan had been as close to it as he'd ever gotten.

He found himself smiling, but the consol sparked again and reclaimed his attention. He really didn't want a repeat of the Christmas crash landing. Shrugging out of his suit jacket and tie, he tossed them aside and rolled up his sleeves. Bending down he uncovered a panel at he bottom of the TARDIS control consol and began pulling wires.

The Doctor wasn't entirely sure he remembered how to do this, but he'd probably figure it out.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

Rose listened to the message again, for about the tenth time that morning. By now she knew the words of the message by heart, and she just listened to make sure…to make sure it was really his voice.

She passed the phone to her mum and let her listen to it, pacing around the kitchen and biting her thumbnail. Her mum's eyebrows lifted to her hairline, and her mouth hung open as she listened to it. When it was done, she set the phone down and stared at Rose.

"What do I do, Mum?" she whispered.

She was silent for a long moment, then looked at Rose. "What do you want to do, sweetheart?"

"I want to go back with him," she said, not even hesitating. "But should I?"

"No," her mum said, shaking her head. "There are a thousand reasons why you shouldn't."

"I know," Rose wailed miserably, thumping back into the kitchen chair and holding her head between her hands.

She felt her mum's hand close over hers and she looked up. "But," she said, "if everyone went around worrying about what they shouldn't do, then they wouldn't do anything at all, would they?"

Rose stared at her, blinking away tears.

Her mum took her face between her hands. "I love you, Rose," she said, "and I want you here at home, where you're safe. But that's because I'm your mother. And as hard," she swallowed, her voice raising in pitch as she tried not to cry, "as hard as it is for me to let you go, sweetheart, I have to."

Rose sniffed and stood, wrapping her arms around her mother.

"You're happy with him," Jackie said to her, stroking her hair. "You act different now, like you really know who you are. You're right, he has shown you a better life. He brings out something in you even I never saw."

Rose pulled away from her, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Her mum clicked her tongue at her and took a tissue from the box on the table, handing it to her. "And I'll tell you what else," Jackie added. "Pete and I had some horrible rows when he was still alive."

"I know," Rose smiled.

Her mum gave her a half-smile. "But even though we'd tear each other apart sometimes, I never loved him any less. And if I could start it all over again, even knowing…even knowing I would lose him, I'd still do it. Because those moments when it was good, it was worth all the pain."

Rose was about to say something, but a familiar scraping sound caught her attention. She looked at her mum, her eyes wide with an unspoken question.

"Go to him, sweetheart," she said.

………………………………………………………………………………..

Rose ran across the pavement, her breath catching painfully in her lungs, her heart pounding. She reached the TARDIS door before she realized that she'd kept the key. He hadn't taken it back. And that morning, she'd automatically slipped it into her jeans pocket like she always did.

Old habits die hard.

Grinning, she pulled out the key with shaking fingers and slipped it into the lock.

……………………………………………………………………………..

The Doctor stood, hands to his head. He'd hit it again on the consol as he'd landed. He wondered if he should invest in that padding foam they used to baby-proof human houses. Considering that he was now bleeding again from a fresh cut on his forehead, it didn't seem too absurd an idea.

He looked down, noting that a bit of blood had dripped onto his shirt, and he had TARDIS grease smeared all over him. He probably looked frightening. He should go and clean up before he went after Rose.

Yes, he should definitely clean up. And what did human men do? Didn't they go get flowers or something? If he bought roses for Rose, wouldn't that be a bit…cheesy? And what if she was allergic?

He was debating on whether or not to go get flowers when the TARDIS door opened. Turning, his breath caught as he saw Rose. She stood at the bottom of the ramp, the door closing back on its hinges behind her.

They stared at each other for what seemed like ages, then finally Rose took a step forward. "Doctor?" she said gingerly, her eyes wide.

"Rose," he whispered. Key. He'd forgotten she still had a key.

He grinned, and she ran to him, throwing her arms around him. It hurt a bit; he must've bruised a rib or two somehow earlier, but it was the most welcome pain he'd ever felt. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to him with equal force. "I missed you," he sighed into her hair.

"I missed you, too," she said, sniffing and pulling away from him. "Oh, you're bleeding!"

He looked at her a bit sheepishly. "I, er…I hit my head on the consol."

She stared at him. "You idiot! Come here," she sighed, pulling him out of the control room and into the infirmary.

The Doctor sat patiently and let her tend to his injuries, enjoying the feel of her hands on his face and the sound of her voice as she rattled on while she worked. When she was done, she stood in front of him and demanded to be told what happened.

He laughed. "Rose, I don't even know where to begin. You're not going to believe a word of it."

"Doctor," she snorted, "I travel with you. With all the things I've seen you think there's something out there I won't believe?"

He paused, tilting his head at her. "So you're still traveling with me, then?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" she smirked.

"What changed your mind?"

She frowned at him. "You did. That message you left me."

Message? Oh. Now he remembered. "Ah," he breathed. "You…you heard that?"

"Yeah, I did," she said. "Was I not supposed to?"

"No, I mean, yes," he said hastily, "you were meant to hear it. I just didn't actually think I'd manage to get it through to you. I mean, I did, but then I thought it would be erased when the universe reset since I wasn't sure at what point the time line would actually reset at, and…I'm not making any sense am I?"

Rose grinned and laughed, "No, not at all."

He grinned back. "Sorry."

She bit her lip and looked up at him as he stood. "Did you mean it?"

"What?" he blinked.

"The message."

He stepped close to her and touched her face. "Every word, Rose. I meant every word."

Her eyes scanned his face and seemed to see something that satisfied her. Standing on tip-toe, she leaned into him, and very gently kissed him on the mouth. She pulled away, looking up at him again, this time with an unspoken invitation hanging in the air.

He closed the gap between them, placing his hands at her waist and pulling her against him. Running one hand up the length of her spine, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her, his lips tugging at hers with volumes of unspoken passion. She opened her mouth slightly, and their breath mingled as his tongue danced over hers. As he pulled away, she held onto his bottom lip with her teeth, and the feel of them against the sensitive skin of his mouth made a small moan escape from the back of his throat.

Wordlessly, he lifted her onto the medical cot and kissed her mouth again, briefly this time as his lips trailed further along her skin. Her hands gripped his shoulders and her legs parted and wrapped around his hips. He let one hand trail up her thigh while the other ran through her hair.

She let out a low growl when he pressed a hot kiss to the pulse of her neck, sounding almost like a purr. He smiled and his lips found their way back to hers for a long, deep, hot kiss that left both of them panting. "Rose," he whispered hoarsely.

She looked at him and there was so much emotion in her eyes it made his throat tight. He kissed her again, never wanting to stop. If this was his present, he wanted to live in it forever; he wanted to burn it into his brain and never forget the way this felt.

Her fingers found their way into his hair, and he was never more grateful to not be bald. The feel of it sent shivers down his spine, and his hand on her thigh tightened. They parted for breath again, and he rested his head in the crook of her neck, breathing in the smell of her.

She'd always been partial to lavender-scented soap. It filled his nostrils, along with the more subtle, indefinably feminine, and utterly human scent of her skin. Her hand moved from his shoulder to trail along his neck, coming to rest at the bare skin where his collar was open.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to look in her eyes and let the unspoken question hang between them. He saw in her eyes that she understood, and when the hand on his chest moved slightly lower and her fingers undid the topmost button of his shirt, he knew it was her answer.

He took her hand and silently led her out of the infirmary. They only made it to the hallway before the brush of her hips against his sent fire racing through him and he had to kiss her again. They stumbled through the corridor, entangled in each other, the Doctor feeling along the wall for the first bedroom he came across.

His fingers found a door, which was lucky because Rose had succeeded in freeing him of his shirt, and he was working the clasp on her jeans with his other hand. They fell inside the room, and he dimly noticed from the sparse furnishings that his was his rarely-used room, not hers. He was glad. Hers would be empty.

Rose pushed him back onto the bed with more force than he expected, and she tore off her t-shirt before she straddled him, her hips grinding against his. He laughed, and flipped her over onto his back, trailing kisses down her chest as his nimble fingers worked the ridiculously complicated clasp of the human bra. Once undone, he flung the silky black thing aside and closed his mouth over one pink nipple while cupping the other with his hand.

She gasped and arched her back into him, fingers digging into his scalp as he moved his tongue lower on her body, taking in every taste of her skin.

With one well-placed tug and a kick of her legs, she was free of both her jeans and panties, but before he could explore, she'd pushed him over and was working the fastenings of his trousers. He helped her, and once he was free of them, she smirked at the realization that he hadn't been wearing any underwear.

But he captured her mouth with his again before she could comment, and soon her body was stretched out over his, both of them just enjoying the feel of skin against skin. Hand moved up and down, leaving invisible trails that radiated heat throughout their bodies.

Rose pulled away from him just enough to reposition herself, and she moved her hips down in one thrust, bringing him inside her. His hands went automatically to her waist as she moved against him, and he lifted his hips in response, thrusting deeper.

She moaned and he rolled her over onto her back, and her breath came in hot rasps against his neck. She dug her fingers into his back and he whispered her name against her throat as she bent her head back. His thrusts came harder as she lifted her hips to meet them, gripping onto both him and the mattress for support.

She gasped and he could feel her body tense. Her arms came up around his neck and he lifted her into his next thrust. Rose cried out, her whole body caught up in ecstasy, and in the next moment he'd joined her, her name escaping his lips as he gave himself over to release.

It took them a long time to catch their breath, and Rose rested her head on his chest, her hair tickling his skin. He smiled, his lips brushing the top of her head. They lay in silence for a while, neither of them sleeping, just resting, occasionally letting an idle hand wander over bare skin.

She lifted her head and looked at him, and he touched her face, smiling. She smiled back. "I guess this is a whole new beginning, isn't it?"

His lip twitched. "New new beginning?"

Rose snorted and smacked him gently. Then she sobered and bit her lip. "I really did miss you," she said. "I thought I'd never see you again. That hurt worse than any argument we could ever have."

He rolled onto his side so he could look at her easier. "I know," he said softly. "I'd already started to come back for you, and then…well, it's a long story, but a lot of things happened. And throughout everything, all I could think was how much I needed you with me."

"Must've been one hell of a bad day," she said, curling up against him and sighing.

He draped his arm over her and settled against her, his eyelids drifting lower. "Oh, Rose," he sighed, "you have no idea."

…………………………………………………………………………..

END