AN: Doctor Who and all recognizable characters are the sole property of BBC. I have simply taken them out to play with them. No copyright infringement intended.

Finding His Reason

by WhisperingWolf

Chapter 3

Aliens of London

The first of the planet's three suns was beginning to descend, leaving the sky in cascading shades of purples and reds. She watched the colors change as she stood in the open square, her distraction noticed by the alien manning the shop behind her The shops were different sizes, ranging from small booths to wide tents that could be partitioned into rooms, each of them fairly packed with people. Turning her attention away from the sky, Rose looked in the direction The Doctor had disappeared to, her mind filled with the memories of falling asleep in his arms and waking up there as well.

It was nothing really, almost too subtle for her to have taken notice of, and if she hadn't spent the night in his embrace, Rose was fairly certain she would have missed it. She was falling for him. Each moment, he became more important to her than the last, and it had nothing to do with the places he had taken her to. They were spectacular yes; this world, and those he had already shown her, but she knew that if his ability to take her traveling through time and space vanished tomorrow, her love for him would not. He made her feel alive. He made her feel beautiful and important and . . .

Rose looked down at the ground for a moment as she steadied herself and gained control over her emotions. He made her feel worth it. After all that she had been through at Jimmy's hands, after all that she had seen and the endless questions and warnings that came from her mother and Mickey, it was The Doctor who made her feel as though she was worth more than what her past told her she was. She closed her eyes as the sound of his voice echoed in her mind, the smooth baritone forming words and gliding over phrases as he read to her. She knew then, the same as she had on the observation deck, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Turning around, Rose looked up and met the crimson gaze of the older woman watching her, the alien's sapphire hair braided and swept up in an artistic manner. She felt her lips bend up in a soft smile as she stepped forward into the three-sided tent-covered booth and looked around at the wares. Her brow furrowed, the edge of her lip catching between her teeth in confusion and wonder as she reached her hand out to touch the neatly folded blanket, never noticing how the alien and her daughter were watching her.

The smooth stitched cloth of the blanket was white, the feel of it reminding her of the brushed lamb's wool blanket she had back home. She felt her attention drawn closer to the blanket, unable to resist lifting it up from the shelf as she caught the trace scent of something delicate and beautiful. She didn't know what they would ask for it, but as soon as she buried her nose in the fabric and breathed in the scent that seemed to be a mix of cloves, sandalwood, and cinnamon, she knew she had to have it. Turning around to ask her question, Rose found a young girl looking at her. She guessed that they were close in age, and from her features, believed her to be the shop keeper's daughter.

"My apologies," the girl said as she nodded to the small sample tray in her hand. "I did not realize you were not a telepath. Would you like to try one?" she asked, and offered out the tray to Rose.

"Thank you." Rose smiled, and lifted the small dark piece from the tray, sniffing it once before taking a small bite.

She hadn't been sure what the piece of food would be, but nearly groaned when the flavor filled her mouth. It had to be the most exquisite chocolate she had ever had, the center filled with some kind of whipped cream that tasted like Macadamia nuts. The girl smiled widely at Rose, listening to her thoughts before reaching for a box that contained more of the treats. Both she and her mother had been monitoring Rose from the moment her thoughts had turned to the man she call The Doctor. The love there was strong, the beauty of her musings drawing them both in like a moth to a flame.

"Oh, these would be perfect for her," Rose said as she lifted two folded cloths from a basket, the feel of them reminding her of microfiber.

"We have an oil that would be very soothing when applied," the girl offered her, glancing back at her mother and nodding with a smile.

Rose frowned as she looked at the items already set aside. "I don't know, I don't actually have any money. What would you ask for all of this?" she asked as she looked at the blanket, the rather large box of chocolates, and the two cloths she had selected.

"We shall add these things," the girl said, once again meeting her mother's smile with one of her own before returning her attention to Rose. "Oh, I'm sorry. It must seem rude to you. My mother doesn't speak aloud. She was never taught to, but she is very happy for you and would like to offer you the full set."

"Set?" Rose shook her head in confusion.

"Yes," the girl smiled to her. "There is a pillow that goes with that blanket, the oil for the cloths. There is also another box of those," she nodded to Rose's chocolates. "A lighter flavor meant to be eaten when you wake. One light colored one in the morning, and one dark one before bed," she told Rose with a smile. "There is also this." She held out a cloth covered orb to Rose, pulling back the fine layer of fabric to reveal what looked like a crystal ball. "It's a Friksteppen."

"I'm sorry a what?" Rose asked, wondering why the TARDIS hadn't translated the word for her.

"It will tell you when you are ready," the girl told her, a wide smile on her face. "Here, let me put these into a bag for you. Keep the Friksteppen by your bed, when the color changes to match your skin and you see a pink glow in the middle, that means you're ready."

Rose wondered what it all meant, what the orb was supposed to tell her she was ready for, but didn't want to appear daft by asking. She wondered if the word they had called it was a name. It would make sense if it were, the TARDIS had no translation for names. But if it was a description and not a name, did that mean that there wasn't an equivalent in her language for what it was? She turned back to the women, smiling her thanks as the items were packaged for her in a draw string bag and she found herself amused at the sheer size of it.

Her hair, the elder alien spoke to her daughter telepathically. She is going to ask again what payment we would want for the items. Tell her that I want only to braid her hair.

The blessings! The younger girl replied with a wide smile. The feel of her heart, and the depth of her love . . . Oh, mother she will be wonderful.

Yes, the woman nodded. It has been many generations since I have last seen such a well matched pair.

I don't think she knows though, the young girl said as she watched Rose lift a small hand pillow to her face, and breathe in deeply of its scent.

Of course, she knows. Don't be dull, child. She may be from a different planet, but all things work the same. She has made the choice; it is there in her heart. The least we can do is prepare her, she told her daughter before moving up to Rose and holding her hand out for the small pillow.

She had no way of speaking to Rose, the girl's ability not nearly strong enough for true communication. Meeting Rose's gaze when the pillow was placed in her hand, she held it up, and gave Rose a formal nod and quarter bow before placing the small pillow in the top of the bag and closing the drawstring once more. She was glad that her daughter was here with them, the girl helping her to talk with non-telepaths. Brought up in a time when verbal speech was almost unheard of, she had never used her physical voice and had no practice in forming the spoken communication that was needed.

"What can I give you for this?" Rose asked as she looked between the women, and nodded at the bag.

"My mother and I would like to fold your hair," the girl said, and sensed Rose's confusion. "Braid," she offered the word. "We've not seen your color of hair before."

"Oh," Rose smiled, and looked at the bottle-blonde locks hanging over her shoulder. "Alright, braid away," she said with a smile.

The younger girl led her to a chair, offering Rose a small goblet with a dark red liquid inside. She wasn't certain what it was, sniffing delicately at it before bringing the edge of the cup to her lips as each of the alien women picked up a comb. Taking only a small sip, Rose let the drink sit on her tongue as she evaluated it, and finally smiled. It was strange and very smooth, but it tasted quite a bit like peppermint drinking chocolate with just a hint of almond. Closing her eyes as she sipped at the drink, Rose felt herself giving into the pleasure of the women combing her hair as they carefully removed any tangles.

Neither woman spoke to Rose as they focused on her hair, their minds keen on the blessings they were folding into each braid. The combs were dipped into an infusion of herbs and oils before being brought to her hair, the coated teeth drawing through strands of blonde before each fold was made. She felt peaceful, Rose thought as her mind took her back to that morning. The feel of these women attending to her hair reminded her of waking up in The Doctor's arms, his hand stroking down over her hair as though he meant to guide her gently from her land of dreams and into the conscious world. It still amazed her that he could be so spontaneous and energetic while being so patient and calm with her.

"Thank you," the girl said, never telling Rose that they were able to share in her memory, as she and her mother finished with her hair. "The braids will come out on their own after time; we only ask that you leave them in until they fall out naturally."

"Of course," Rose smiled as she looked into the mirror, her hair still lying flat except for the two thin braids on either side and two in the back that lay neatly folded on top of her hair. "The drink was wonderful," Rose said as she turned to them both, and watched as both women seemed to stand taller with pride and delight at her words.

"Come," the younger woman said as she handed Rose her bag, and led her from the tent. "You have a garden on your ship, I could see it in your thoughts."

"I just barely discovered that," Rose said with a bemused smile. It was strange to be around telepaths, but she didn't feel threatened, or upset by them. She had grown used to the TARDIS being with her in the back of her mind, she supposed. "The oil, can I . . . "

"Use it on her?" the girl asked, her teasing grin and nod of her head referring to Rose's ship. "Yes. It is made for living skin, a person's, or a living ship's, like yours is. I wasn't prepared to hear her voice; it is quite an amazing place you live."

"You can hear her?" Rose asked, her eyes wide with wonder. "What does she sound like?"

"Happy," the woman told her with a smile. "She sounds happy. Most sentient ships that have come to this world simply sound old, or tired. She's the first I've heard that sounds so peaceful."

"The others don't?" Rose asked with a frown.

"Most sentient ships are treated as smart tools to be used and commanded," the girl told her as she led her into another tent filled from top to bottom with plants and cuttings. "They are not treated as truly living, but yours is. You and your Doctor treat her as a friend, a companion. From what I have seen and heard from her, she would fight and give her last breath to protect you both. Other sentient vessels have no such desires."

"She can feel?" Rose asked as she reached for the connection she had with the TARDIS, wanting to feel her as more than just a nudge.

"Very much so. Sentient ships," the girl told her, "they do not simply think, or respond. They are alive. They feel, they mourn, they rejoice and live just as any other creature does. Most think of them as being less, simply because their voice cannot always be heard by everyone."

Rose stopped walking as she looked at a small plant that was set in the edge of the cloth window, a high shelf holding it up to the sunlight. The way it was bent over, the dark green stalk curving downward to the soil it stood in, made Rose think it looked sad. Each world had something new, each place and person she met different than the last. These plants could be like Jade, living creatures that would grow into someone she could someday talk with. She didn't give any consideration to the thought that the plant could be dangerous, and lifted her hand to touch one dark green leaf.

She wasn't certain at first if the plant was responding to her, or simply too far gone to help when it leaned into her touch. Her lips parted in wonder, her chocolate eyes watching as the plant changed color, the dark and sickly green turning to something brighter and warmer. The large bulb at the top of the plant moved on its own, and Rose laughed as it seemed to rub against her fingers like a cat seeking attention.

"Hello," she greeted the plant with amusement and wonder. "Well, aren't you beautiful," she said as the bulb opened, the flower blossoming before her eyes.

The petals were soft and beautiful, the flower bending and rubbing against her skin. It was strange, Rose thought, strange and beautiful just like The Doctor. The blossom was full and large, the petals and form of the flower looking to be a perfect combination of a peony and a spider mum. Jumping when a hand clapped down on her shoulder, she looked back at the man staring at her before returning her attention to the flower that had once more folded in on itself, the brilliance of its color lost as it bent in sorrow. She turned back to the man only to find him staring at her still, the look in his eyes both confused and in some manner annoyed.

"Most of the older generation on this planet never learned to speak out loud. It's only been within the past two hundred years that we've had visitors from other planets, but most have all been telepathic," the young woman explained to Rose, and met the shop keeper's gaze when he turned his attention on her. "The drink I gave you in our shop is made from a plant here, it's a tea made from the fruit and leaves of the plant. As it ages, the roots will come up out of the ground, and they can be used for making the tea as well."

Rose nodded to her before turning her gaze back on the man who still had a grip on her shoulder. "Have I upset you?" she asked as she tried to understand his expression.

He met her gaze before turning his eyes to the plant she had been touching in the window. He nodded to the flower, looking back at the girl behind him and nodding when she told Rose to touch the flower. Frowning in a bit of confusion, Rose turned and lifted her hand, smiling as the flower responded immediately to her touch. The color changed back to the warm emerald, the bulb at the top opening into a wide blossom, and she laughed softly at the way the petals tickled against her skin.

"That flower hasn't opened, or responded to anyone in almost five years," the young woman told Rose, translating for the telepathic shop keeper. "He wants to know if you would be willing to take the flower with you."

"Oh," Rose nodded, and she looked back at the flower, the petals still rubbing against her fingers.

"Of all places, I find you makin' friendly with a flower shop."

Rose turned at the sound of The Doctor's voice, her brow lifting in a teasing arch as she looked back at the flower. He rolled his blue eyes affectionately as he stepped closer and looked at the flower she was touching. It didn't take him long to understand the situation and with a sentient flower responding so openly and happily to Rose, he saw no point in saying no. The flower itself was harmless enough, and he told her that its name translated roughly to companion flower.

"Just so long as you don't go domesticating the place," he told Rose, and watched as she laughed, her wide smile drawing a grin from him. "Did you buy enough things then?"

"Look who's talking," she shot back, nodding to the bag in his hand.

"Oi! This stuff's all necessary," he argued with her, his expression one of humor. "It's for the TARDIS."

"Mmhmm," she teased him, and laughed before turning her attention back to the alien woman and the shop keeper. "Sorry, yes. I'll take this one, too."

"Too?" The Doctor asked. "What else are you getting here?"

"TARDIS has a garden, you know," she told him, meeting his grin with a smile.

"So it does," he nodded. "What're you putting in it?"

"Tea!" Rose told him with a wide smile. "The most delicious chocolate tea."

"Chocolate tea?" he asked her with a discerning frown. "What do you mean 'chocolate tea'?"

"Exactly what I said," she told him with a shake of her head, her expression making it clear she thought he was a bit thick for having asked. "Certainly you've had chocolate tea before, Doctor?"

"Would you like to try some?" the alien woman asked him as she handed him a small cup for sampling.

He took the cup from her with a grin, bringing it to his lips and sniffing at it first. There was something strange and familiar about the scent, something hidden that he could only barely remember. Tipping the cup, he drank the small portion down, his tongue identifying the tea and its uses immediately. His eyes widened for a slight moment before he handed the small porcelain cup back and looked at Rose. He tried to distract her, doing his best to usher her from the shop, but she deflected him.

"Stop it. Now you're just being rude," she told him, and shook her head. "I don't know what's gotten into him," she told the aliens by way of apology, and watched the girl smile.

"It's the tea," the girl told him with a smile. "It has a stronger affect on the males. Here, to buy this plant," she handed Rose the large bowl holding three fledgling plants, heavy with a fruit that reminded her of vanilla beans, "he asks that you take this flower with you. It is what is best for it."

"Thank you," Rose said, smiling at the girl before offering a smile to the man. "You can hold that one," she told The Doctor as she handed him the plant used for making the tea.

He didn't say anything as he led her back to the TARDIS, his mind focused on trying to distract her from ever cultivating the plant he held into the tea she had been given earlier. He wasn't certain exactly what had been said between Rose and the aliens before he had arrived, or how they had gotten the impression that she would need the tea, but he didn't think he could let her have it. There was no harm in the drink, he reminded himself, it wouldn't make her ill, or anything. But how would he possibly be able to handle her if she drank it on a regular occasion?

The alien woman smiled softly as she watched the strange couple walk back through the marketplace. The girl, she knew, thought of the ship they traveled in as more than just a vessel. She thought of the TARDIS with an almost familial relation, something like that of a friend, or perhaps something more. The man with her thought of the ship in much the same way, and she smiled as she felt the TARDIS' joy for having her travelers return. All of the things the girl had now would prepare her for the future, and she wondered how long it would be before Rose was ready. The love was there now, how long until her body was ready for something her heart already wanted?

"What is with you?" Rose asked The Doctor as they stepped onto the TARDIS, his frown ever present as he looked down at the plant he carried. "It's just tea."

"It's more than just tea, Rose," he told her as he led her back through the hall and to the garden.

"Will it hurt me?" Rose asked as she felt a nudge in the back of her mind, and set her bag down only to watch it disappear. "Did the TARDIS do that?" she asked The Doctor, and watched him nod.

"Moved it to your room for you," he told her. "She does that all the time with the stuff I bring back." He grew silent as he looked at Rose, her expression making it clear that she was still waiting for an answer. "It won't hurt you. Just . . . just don't drink more than one cup every other day, alright?" he told her, and watched her take in a deep breath as she stared at him.

"Fair enough," Rose acquiesced, and watched as he set the plant under the artificial sun. "Think this one will be ok in my room?" she asked him, looking down at the companion flower she held.

"Don't see why it wouldn't be," he told her, and watched her walk out of the garden.

He had no idea how to tell her about the tea, and let his head fall back as he stared at the artificial sky inside the TARDIS. No, the drink wouldn't harm her, and it couldn't poison her by having too much. In fact, that particular tea was meant to be had at least twice a day, if not more. The problem was, he thought as he released a heavy sigh, that tea was meant to be had by both a man and a woman together. It would increase the woman's fertility and increase the man's libido and sperm count. He had no idea how he would be able to be around Rose if she drank that tea on a regular basis. It would make her scent more attractive than it already was to him.

Rubbing his hand over his face as he stepped out of the gardens, he found Rose standing in the hall waiting for him, her lips turned up in a smile. Her delight was infectious, his worries forgotten as he smiled in return and led her toward the console room. Talking with her as he told her what controls to move and how to move them, he laughed with delight as the TARDIS' engines began to sound and the ship took flight.

"A visit home," he told her, and watched her laugh.

He smiled as he watched her wave her hand, warning him not to disappear. There wasn't a possibility that he could disappear on her now in the way that she implied, not even if he wanted to. It would be safer for her if he simply left her here, he thought as he watched her run through the alley they'd landed in and over to the Estates. He couldn't do it though; he thought as he crossed his arms and looked down. He couldn't leave without her, not unless she told him to go. She was too much a part of him now, too much a part of his ship. He had reclaimed the jumper she'd worn at the marketplace, his clothing now smelling like her, and knew that there was no going back.

A Time Lord's sense of smell and taste was so much more sensitive than a human's. They could use their senses to track someone else, identify a substance, or even diagnose an illness if they wanted to, but that morning before she'd woken; his senses had been tied up in the jumper that had reappeared in his room. She'd gone to sleep that night in her room and, after setting the TARDIS to return them to her world, he had stepped into his bedroom to see the jumper lying at the foot of his bed. It was still warm from her body heat and the smell of her was drenched in the fabric. The worst part had been the way their scents had mixed though, his scent and hers becoming something new and so perfectly matched that it was almost a perfume.

He looked around as he leaned against the TARDIS, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face as he breathed in the air. The alley certainly didn't smell clean, but that was fine he thought as he looked down and thought himself mad for his growing feelings. She was human, he told himself as he stepped away from the TARDIS and walked a few paces to kick the crumpled bottle in the middle of the brick square. He looked up when the flash of black and white caught his attention, finding a paper flyer attached to a utility pole a few feet in front of him. Something about the shadows and lines looked familiar, his enhanced vision stilling him for only a fraction of a second before both of his hearts began to race.

The Doctor stepped over to the pole quickly, his hand moving out immediately to fold the flyer back as he studied it. It was Rose's face plastered on the weather beaten paper, large red letters across the top asking if anyone had seen her. He studied the page with wide eyes as he read the date on it and realized what had happened. The TARDIS hadn't taken them back to her home with only twelve hours having passed. It had been twelve months instead. He turned on his heel as he ran from the pole, desperate to get to Rose before something happened, and make certain that she was alright. She'd never forgive him for this.

She knew what her mother was thinking. Even if she spoke Mickey's name, and blamed him instead, Rose knew who and what she was truly thinking of. She felt the tears prick her eyes as she stood with her mother in the kitchen, the door closed to give them at least the feel of privacy. Twelve months, Rose thought as her lips folded in between her teeth and trembled with her effort to fight away the tears. She knew what her mother had believed, and that was what frightened her the most, Rose thought. What if her mother really did think that The Doctor was another Jimmy Stone?

The Doctor wouldn't hurt her, she knew that with the same certainty that she knew she had never truly loved Mickey in a romantic way. He was familiar and comfortable, he was safe, but she had never actually been in love with him. She sniffled as she looked up and brushed away a tear. He wasn't a bad man; Rose promised her mother as she met her gaze and brushed Jackie's hair back over one shoulder. The Doctor kept her safe, he protected her. It was just a glitch, a tiny little glitch, where twelve hours had been translated into twelve months.

The problem was, she couldn't tell her mother that. She couldn't tell her that they had been traveling in a time machine, or that she had gone to the end of the earth and seen aliens. Her mother wouldn't believe it, and would more than likely try to have her committed. The tears gathered in her eyes as her mother touched her cheek and asked her what could possibly be so bad that she couldn't talk about it. She had asked her that same question months after she had tried to get Rose into therapy to help her heal from Jimmy. But her time with The Doctor hadn't been bad, a bit frightening at times, but never bad.

What could she possibly say to her to make her understand? Rose shook her head, sniffling again as she told her that she needed some time to herself. She didn't wait for Jackie to answer before she slipped passed her, and out the door. Rose never noticed that The Doctor had slipped out after her, following her up the stairs and to the roof of the Estate. He had seen the tears in her eyes when she had walked out of the flat, but had respected her earlier request not to listen in. He couldn't anyway even if he had wanted to, given the commotion of the room. The policeman had finally left, but only just moments before Rose had walked out of the kitchen.

He watched her climb onto the higher platform of the roof, the part where a few of the old style television antennas and a few clothes lines were, and waited for her to say something, but she remained quiet instead. He only worried when she grew quiet. Rose wasn't a quiet person; even after only a few days spent traveling with her he already knew that. The toe of his shoe caught a loose pebble, the sound of it clattering away breaking the cover of his silent steps, and he watched her look up at him. She met his gaze, her eyes beginning to sparkle with humor before she laughed quietly and shook her head.

"Twelve months," she said, her words an invitation and he stepped closer.

"I'd have fixed it before we landed if I'd noticed," he told her as he leaned against the wall to the left side of her.

Pulling her legs up from where they were dangling over the edge, she hugged her knees to her chest as she crossed her ankles, the position casual and relaxed. Turning her eyes up to the sky, she studied the clouds above them and felt the peacefulness his presence brought her drive away the anxiety and turmoil of the past few hours. Closing her eyes as she took in a deep breath, she couldn't help the silent wish she had to spend her forever traveling with The Doctor. He made her feel important. He made her feel real and needed and . . . and whole.

"I can't tell her," she said after a moment, looking off to her right and shaking her head as she thought aloud. "I can't even begin. She's never going to forgive me. And I missed a year," she turned her attention back on The Doctor. "Was it good?"

"Middling," he deflected as she rested her elbows on the tops of her knees and relaxed further.

"You're so useless," she teased him.

"Well if it's this much trouble are you going to stay here then?" he asked her, squinting his eyes against the sunlight and hoping she would say no.

"I don't know," Rose said as she looked at him, and studied the red undertones she could see in his dark hair, the sun lighting them before hiding behind the clouds. "I can't do that to her again though."

"Well, she's not coming with us," he said, and listened to Rose laugh.

"No joke," she told him, still laughing as she tried to imagine Jackie Tyler traveling in the TARDIS and met his smile.

"I don't do families," he told her seriously, and watched her smile widen.

"She slapped you," Rose said with a wide smile as she looked at him.

"Nine hundred years of time and space and I've never been slapped by someone's mother," he said sounding truly offended.

"Your face," Rose teased him.

"It hurt!" he told her, and rubbed his cheek.

"So gay!" she told him, her smile widening as she tipped her head back and he watched as her hair danced in the breeze. "When you say nine hundred years?" she asked the question without finishing it.

"That's my age," he told her seriously, and waited for her reaction.

"You're nine hundred years old?" Rose asked him wondering how he could look so young.

"Yeah," he nodded, and watched her turn away from him, returning his attention to the city in front of them.

"My mum was right," Rose nodded, and he glanced back at her. "That is one hell of an age gap," she said hopping off her perch, and walked to the edge of the roof they were standing on. "Every conversation with you just goes mental. There's no one else I can talk to. I've seen all the stuff up there. The size of it and I can't say a word. Aliens and space ships and things. And I'm the only one on planet earth who knows they exist."

Rose fell silent at the sound screaming from behind them, a kind of buzzing horn that reminded her of sixteen wheelers on the road. She had finally lost it, she thought as she ducked and watched the spaceship fly overhead, black smoke billowing out from the engines in back. It looked like it was crashing and she had no doubt that it would. She and The Doctor turned at the same time, watching the ship fly through the city in a manner that seemed more like a well choreographed fall. They heard the banging as it crashed through Big Ben, and Rose shook her head as she finally stood from the crouch she had been in.

"Oh, that's not fair."

Realization came to him with the cold fingers of fear gripping his twin hearts in vice-like claws. The moment he understood that it was a trap, the moment he realized that he and all of the other so-called alien experts had been lured to Ten Downing Street so that the invading aliens could do away with them, he felt as though he'd been frozen inside. His fury came piggy-backed on the fear, his rage boiling beneath the surface, but hidden beneath layers of wit and arrogance. Rose was in danger, and if he was trapped in this room, he wouldn't be able to get to her. Not without a fight, he reasoned and steeled himself against the desire to run from the room without first ensuring of anyone else's safety.

He knew Rose was a fighter, knew that she would be ok until he could make it to her. She had to be, he thought, and if there was one thing he believed in, it was Rose Tyler. He turned around as he faced those standing in the front, the councilman and military officer who had been doing nothing but farting and making snide comments when he spoke. They were the aliens. They were the ones who wanted the experts dead, and The Doctor knew without a doubt that he would stop at nothing to get to Rose. They didn't know the kind of beast they had awakened in separating him from his companion. Putting Rose Tyler in danger, he thought, that was as foolhardy as one could get.

There was a reason that other alien races knew of him, knew of "The Doctor" and the legend of "The Oncoming Storm" as the Daleks called him. He wasn't one to be trifled with, and he certainly wasn't one to be underestimated. He could feel the individual twitching of his muscles, the hormones and chemicals running through his blood as his body prepared for the fight that his mind had already calculated. If a stretched out piece of skin and all her trickery and betrayal hadn't been able to stop him from protecting Rose, what made these strangers think that they'd be any more successful?

Never mess with a Time Lord's lady, he thought without ever realizing the significance of it.

The moment that the one alien dressed as the military man had revealed itself, The Doctor had known that he wouldn't rest until each one of them had been stopped. They weren't simply disguised as humans, no. They had killed humans and taken their skins to wear as disguises like costumes on Halloween. He hated the loss of life, hated the loss of innocents more, and ground his teeth together as the one still dressed as a councilman held up a remote in his hand. The pain of the electricity was unbearable. The light and energy wrapping around him interfering with the natural rhythm of his hearts and making his skin feel as though it were burning.

It took all of his control not to scream and yell as some of the humans around him were doing. If this was what was happening to Rose, he thought as he fought against the pain and fear, than there wasn't a damned thing on this planet that could stand between him and those hurting her. There would be hell to pay, he swore quietly. No matter how much he delighted in seeing history as it happened and no matter how much excitement he may have felt for the mystery of the spaceship, these aliens had put Rose in danger and that was crossing a line. Not just a line, his mind screamed at him, the line – the only one there was.

She backed away quickly from the body that fell out of the closet and crumpled to the floor at her feet. It had been one thing to see the dead bodies at Mr. Sneed's mortuary, but this man hadn't died naturally, nor was he being laid to rest. He had been stuffed in a closet and left to stay there as aliens invaded the Parliament. She looked up with wide eyes when the man who had come into the meeting room told her and Harriet Jones that the dead man was the Prime Minister. If the aliens had killed the Prime Minister then who else had been killed?

The short stout woman walked into the office, her arrogance and cheerfulness frightening. Rose didn't know what to think, didn't even know what to do as she watched the woman reach up and pull a zipper across her forehead. A zipper? She stood frozen, watching as the alien emerged from the suit of human flesh and felt her stomach turn. From what she had seen, and all that Harriet had told her, this was more than just a costume the alien was wearing. The skin and clothing had one belonged to an actual living human. She couldn't imagine killing someone and wearing their skins like that.

She had to keep her wits about her until The Doctor made it back to them, and she knew he would. He had to, she told herself. The Doctor was the only one who could possibly save them, save the planet, and she wouldn't let him down. She was becoming used to the danger, used to running and fighting, and somehow what had started as fear turned into excitement instead. This was just another adventure, she told herself, fisting her hands as she gained control over her emotions, and began to think of ways to escape. This was her life now, and it was a damned good life to have. It wasn't just about her anymore; it was about him, about being with him and fighting alongside him and making a difference.

I'll make you proud of me, Doctor, she thought as she stared at the alien and waited for the attack.