Disclaimer: Again, I don't own anything. Why would anyone think I own DW? And really, if I owned Doctor Who, would I be writing fan fic? Wouldn't I be writing shippy episodes where the Doctor and Rose are together and in love for-ev-ar?

A/N: Um. No, not really. Last one before the end, folks.

When Rose Tyler woke up the next morning, she could feel the heaviness of Jack's arm across her belly, could feel the flutter of his breath on her cheek. Turning her head, she studied his face while he slept, the sweep of long, dark lashes across his high cheekbones, the shadow of stubble across his jaw. She sighed and climbed from the bed.

Probably hadn't been the smartest thing she'd ever done, but there it was. She picked up Jack's tee from where it was lying on the floor and shrugged into it before padding into the kitchen to make tea.

As she flicked the kettle on, she thought back to the night before. She knew that she would've lived if it had never happened, but did she regret it?

It didn't mean anything, she told herself, assured herself. Just two friends finding comfort, that's all it was.

If she kept telling herself that, it was true, right?

She was staring out the window, a steaming mug of tea cupped in her hands, warming her cheeks as she watched the occasional passer-by, the occasional leaf or snowflake flutter by.

She couldn't help but feel like she'd cheated on the Doctor.

Which was ridiculous, because they'd never so much as kissed, let alone shared any moments of undying love or commitment. She loved him, with all her heart, and had done since the first time he'd looked at her with that look in his eyes.

That sharp, haunted look that said maybe I can't save you, but I'm so glad you're with me when we die. She couldn't even count the number of times they'd shared it.

She heard a shuffling behind her and turned to see Jack coming to a rest in the door. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and leaned his shoulder against the door jamb, watching her. She cleared her throat and gestured to her mug.

"Cup of tea?"

"It wasn't a mistake, Rose." She blushed, averting her gaze.

"I know, Jack." She moved past him into the kitchen and set about making up a cup of tea for him. "I know that."

"I won't apologize."

"I don't want you to. What's with you this morning, anyway?" She asked with false cheerfulness. "Am I that bad?"

"You? No, you're wonderful." He snagged an apple out of the bowl on the counter and rinsed it off before taking a healthy bite. "Were you ever intimate with the Doctor?"

"Jack!" She let out a forced laugh and shoved his cup at him, not meeting his gaze.

"I'm just curious. Besides, at this point, I sort of have a right to know." Rose was silent for a moment as she scrubbed at a non-existent spot on the counter. He put his mug down and, holding the apple in his teeth, took the dishcloth from her and set it in the sink. Grabbing onto the apple again, he took another bite before speaking around it. "I don't mean to be rude, I really don't."

"I know you don't. No, we weren't. I don't even think he ever thought of me that way—"

"Oh, he did." Rose rolled her eyes.

"What, you two share secrets as you painted your nails?"

"No, he likes his nails bare…boring, if you ask me. I'm serious, Rose, he did. I just think he didn't know how to say it."

"And how d'you know that?"

"The way he acted. Even after he got used to me being around, if I was too close to you or we laughed too much without including him in on the joke, he got testy."

"Testy. He's always testy." It was Jack's turn to roll his eyes.

"You just were seeing it from too close. I got to see the bigger picture. Both of you are stupid, should've acted on it." Rose shoved at his shoulder and refilled her mug before heading back into the other room to sit on the couch.

"It was different with us. We—"

"Had a great relationship, if you ask me. I'm jealous of it."

"No reason to be jealous now." She set her mug down on the coffee table and played with the hem of the tee where it fell across her thigh.

"Every reason to be jealous, Rose." She looked up at met his gaze. "Every reason."

Tell her, his mind screamed.

But he wouldn't. Instead, he turned the conversation to the left.

"So, are we still on for your mom's tomorrow?" Her face brightened a little and Jack felt himself relax, just the slightest.

"Really, d'you mean it? You want to come?"

"Of course I want to come. After all I've heard about Jackie Tyler?" Rose frowned and he quickly thought over what he'd said. What did I do wrong? But then it cleared, albeit her cheerfulness was a bit more forced than he'd like.

"You shouldn't believe everything he told you. She's not as bad as all that. He just didn't—"

"Do domestic." He finished for her. "Right, I remember."

"I would like to know, mister, what your intentions are with my daughter." Jackie aimed for his chest, he was sure, but ended up poking somewhere near his throat. He swallowed painfully and raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Don't get all hoity-uppity with me. Just like that damn Doctor." Rose appeared beside them and she gave Jack a strained smile as she hooked her arm around her mum's waist. "There you are, Rosie. I was just telling him, all blokes are the same."

"Yes, they are, Mum." Rose was unable to keep the laugh from her voice but Jackie didn't notice. "Why don't we go get us a stiff black coffee?" She threw an apologetic glance towards Jack as she led Jackie away and he mouthed back to her that it was okay.

Everyone knew you didn't put Jackie Tyler in a room with free liquor and expect great results.

"Really, though. Why are you here?" A voice at his elbow asked and he turned to face Mickey. "Why did you come back and not him, I mean?"

"There was a…battle," Jack said slowly. "The Doctor sent Rose home."

"Right, I knew that part."

"And I…survived. I don't think he did."

"The Doctor died?" A look of awe crossed the younger man's face and Jack could understand it. Who would think that someone like the Doctor would be killed in something as mundane as a battle?

"I think so. I couldn't find him, on any account, when I woke up."

And then a thought struck him. A thought that started a buzzing in his brain.

What if the Doctor wasn't there because he'd never been there?

He thought back to his calculations and his tests and everything the Doctor had taught him in the few months they'd been together.

Time was cyclical. Constantly changing, constantly reforming as everyone with time changed and reformed.

Maybe when he'd woken up, he hadn't actually been at the Game Station in 200,100. He'd been on a station, certainly. But it would explain why there had been more bodies than people he remembered fighting with.

And it would explain why he hadn't been able to find the Doctor's body.

Because he hadn't ever actually been there.

He glanced up at Rose sharply and she turned and looked at him, waving distractedly before turning back to the uncle she was speaking to.

Maybe somehow, things had gotten mixed up. And he'd come back to Rose, but he came back to her before the timelines had shifted.

Which meant there was only one thing he could do. One thing he had to do. Or he didn't know what sort of paradox it would create.

Paradoxes were the Doctor's forte, not his.

He was going to have to royally fuck with the timeline. He just hoped the Doctor would forgive him for it, someday. And understand.

R&R, please, if you have the time... final chapter next!