Rose had done some downright stupid things in her life time, but opening the door of her old refrigerator whose contents had been sitting there for at least two years had to be the stupidest to date.

"Ew, oh—God!" She exclaimed, scrunching her nose up and slamming the refrigerator door. Her hands flew up to her nose. "Yuck, yuck, yuck!" Sinking down to the floor, she continued to whimper and hold her nose as if it had been severely wounded.

The Doctor poked his head through the kitchen doorway. "How's breakfast going?"

Rose shot him a dirty look, and then pointed at the offending refrigerator accusingly. "That—that thin' is evil!"

He smirked, shoulders shaking. "Not very domestic, are we? Not three minutes in the kitchen and you're already accusing the appliances as self-aware evil beings. Tut-tut, Rose."

She glared at him, "Oh, and you're one to talk, Mister A-Proper-House-With-Doors-And-Carpets!" Her quote from that time ago made not only the Doctor, but inadvertently her as well, her tongue poking out between her teeth.

The Doctor broke the moment, asking, "So, would you like me to dispose of the 'evil' in the 'fridge?"

Rose's eyes widened in genuine horror. "No, ya can't!" Leaping to her feet, arms outstretched in warning, "It might…eat you."

He raised an eyebrow. Mockingly, "What? Has the cheese decided to avenge all his long-lost brothers—by turning the tables?" Rose made no reply, a somber expression gracing her features. "It can't be that bad," said the Doctor, though a bit uncertainly. Moving towards the appliance, he grabbed the handle and pulled it open. As soon as the door was open it was closed, and the Doctor spun around to look at Rose.

"Who wants chips?" He grinned her favorite manic grin.

0000

Rose grimaced as she attempted to pat down her rather balloon-like pink top. It had been from her high school years, and she had been a lot…heavier back then. She was a twig compared to her figure back then, and she looked absolutely ridiculous in these old clothes. The Doctor, poor him, was wearing another of the infamous Howard's jim-jams, but he still appeared more dignified than her. Really, she would kill to find out his secret of looking so damn handsome all the time.

Declaring her top a helpless cause, Rose went back to eating the fries she had bought her and the Doctor with some pocket money she had found on her dresser. "Mmm," Rose gurgled appreciatively, swallowing, "This is much better than alive monster cheese-stuffs in the 'fridge. Do you know how long it's been since I've had good chips? The stuff on the other world is rubbish, lemme tell you!"

She looked up to share a smile with him, but he had a pained look on his face. Comprehension dawned, and Rose interrupted him before he could apologize. "No, Doctor, it wasn't tha' bad. Don't go blamin' yourself."

"But—" he protested guiltily, his eyes wide and distracted.

Rose leaned over the table, poking his nose with her pinky—the only finger that had yet to be contaminated by grease. "Don't," she said sternly, and then smiled.

He smiled too, but it was weak. Rose exhaled quietly. Obviously, he was in one of those 'I'm an evil monster' moods and he was going to act all guilty for at least another hour. This wasn't going to be fun at all—she just was glad she had her Doctor back.

"Rose, I can't begin—"

"Then don't," she told him simply, before popping another chip into her mouth.

"But I need to tell you," he said seriously, his eyes never leaving hers, "How sorry I am—"

"Then just say, 'I'm sorry, Rose,' and be done wi' it. I don't want to dawdle on this whole 'I'm a tortured, horrible Time Lord' act of yours," she told him decisively.

"I'm sorry, Rose."

"Apology accepted, Doctor," a smile with her tongue poking out. His returning smile was stronger this time. "So, what d'you think?"

"About what?"

"The obvious, silly," she rolled her eyes, "Wha' d'you think about our reunion—how it can be possible and stuff like that."

He then explained the conclusions he had made earlier.

"A power over the Vortex greater than yours?" Rose's exclamation held all the surprise the Doctor felt when he first thought of the possibility.

"Yes, whoever has done this must have the ability to manipulate the Vortex in a way than any Time Lord has done—think of it! They must be truly powerful creatures. I hope I get to meet them…" He trailed off in reverie. Rose smiled again—she couldn't seem to stop lately.

The Doctor sighed, and looked up back at her. "There is only one thing—well, two—that I regret about this situation."

"And that would be?"

He huffed, pouting, "I don't have my sonic screwdriver, nor the parts to make one!" Rolling his eyes in exasperation, "and the TARDIS, while I can still vaguely feel her in the back of my head, I can tell that she's not very close."

Rose placed her hand over his, and he encircled it with his hand in welcome. "I'm sorry." He sighed. Biting the inside of her cheek, she offered, "D'you want to go find her?"

Another smiled spread across his face. He had missed this—Martha had never really known what to say, never really completely understood him like Rose had. Of course he wanted to find the TARDIS. And that was how Rose ended up in a mess of a room that had once been her mum's kitchen.

"So, let's jus' get this clear—you took parts from the dishwasher, the oven, and the microwave and made…what?" Rose asked, eyeing the skinny form of the Doctor that sat on the tile, who was presently tinkering with something that looked an awful lot like the temperature knob on her oven and another part that she had seen him take out of the back of the microwave.

"A scanner for alien tech." He told her absently. "And making, not made. I still need something to reverse the polarity."

"Finally!" Rose exclaimed, startling him, "Some Spock!"

The Doctor sniffed at her and went back to his tinkering. "Well, my usually system would not work in this situation. I can't just go around and look for a blue box. Not with this level, well, lack of telepathy between the TARDIS and me. This," he flicked the end of the device in his hand, "will search the area around us for extraterrestrial technology with a radius of, er…twelve feet?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Nice. Any way to boost that distance up a bit?"

"That's what I'm working on." Frustrated, he dealt the device a rather heavy blow. Nothing seemed to change.

"I don't think that does anything, Doctor," commented Rose from her seat on the kitchen countertop.

"It's the soda machine principle," the Doctor said absently as he bopped it again, "It you hit it hard enough something will rattle about and make it work."

"Is that your super-scientific theory, then?"

"Well I bet it's better than any theory you could come up with. That was rude, wasn't it?" He flashed her a smile.

"A bit," she said, and bit her lip to restrain another smile. She was always smiling since the Doctor appeared in her bedroom. Rose was only too aware of the effect the Doctor had on her happiness but really—was she always raving, smiling lunatic whenever he was around?

Apparently, for the thought had provoked yet another smile to tease her lips.

Right then, a huge puff of golden smokes erupted from the device in the Doctor's hands. Burrowing her face in her elbow, Rose coughed and waited until the smoke dissipated.

"Awh!!" The Doctor practically screamed, and the foreign words which came out his mouth following—Gallifreyan, probably—he said likes expletives. Again, they probably were.

"What happened?" Rose hopped off the counter and crouched beside him.

"It…exploded," was the Doctor's explanation.

"Oh, I got tha'," said Rose with a chuckle. Looking up, she then placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him. "Doctor. How is that possible?"

The Doctor's gazed drifted upward.

POLICE PUBLIC-CALL BOX glowed familiarly at the top of a big, blue box.

"What?"

A/N: See that green button below this sentence a bit that says 'Review'? Click on it. See what it does. :D