"What in the bloody hell…?"

He took in the reflection before him in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. As far as he knew, this had never happened before.

Close-cropped hair. High, sharp cheekbones. Blue eyes. Big ears and nose.

He hadn't changed at all.

Now he ran his hands over his face in frantic haste, not believing the evidence of his own eyes. He examined those hands, long-fingered, callused, familiar. He felt his arms, his chest, looked down at his long legs and bare feet. All was just as he remembered.

How could this be? He had regenerated. He could feel the proof inside, the energy coursing through him, the eerie instability that was a hallmark of the process. Even as he stared at himself, he saw a faint wisp of gold slip from between his lips and vanish into the air.

He had regenerated – he just hadn't changed.

A tentative voice from behind him brought him back. "Doctor?"

He turned to see Rose and Jack hovering in the doorway. Rose was watching him nervously, eyes huge in her pale face. Jack stood behind her, hand resting casually on her shoulder. The Doctor's eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tightened as he felt a swift flash of anger, hot and irrational, at the sight. He was touching Rose.

"Doctor, what's going on? What can we do to help?" she asked him, taking a hesitant step toward him, as if afraid of spooking him. Jack's hand fell from her shoulder, and he breathed an equally irrational sigh of relief.

"I regenerated," he answered, mind still racing, desperately searching his vast knowledge for a hint, a clue to solving this mystery.

"That really happens?" Jack looked surprised. "It's not a myth? I heard rumors while I was with the Time Agents…"

"Yes, it's real," said the Doctor grimly. "But this isn't normal."

"What do you mean, not normal?"

"Hello, remember me?" Both men's eyes flew to Rose, who was staring at them in frustration, hands on hips. "I hate to interrupt, but either of you care to explain to me what's going on here?"

"I regenerated," the Doctor repeated.

"Yes, I gathered that much," Rose said with more than a hint of sarcasm. "But what does that exactly mean, regenerate?"

The Doctor drew in a deep breath, then said, "It's a Time Lord trick, a way of cheating death. When we - when I am about to die, I can change every cell in my body and survive."

Rose stared at him silently for a long minute. "You… you almost died?" He nodded. "Why?"

"Long story – I'll have to explain later." When I figure out how much I can tell you, he added heavily to himself. "When I regenerate, my appearance and personality change, but not my memories or my feelings. But this time I didn't change at all."

He watched her face as she tried to comprehend what he was saying – despite his anxiety, he smiled inside at the way her nose and forehead scrunched up as she puzzled over this. "You mean, if you did this… regeneration thing… you – would look – like a completely different person?"

"Yes," he answered quietly, just as he had on that first night in the TARDIS when she had asked him if he was an alien.

Suddenly and to his utter surprise, Rose strode up to him and whacked him angrily and painfully on the shoulder. As he winced and pulled away, she said loudly, "You – you alien git! It never occurred to you to warn me about this? How did you think I would take it if all of a sudden you looked like … some stranger? How did you expect me to wrap my mind around that?"

As he looked at her fierce expression, he suddenly remembered quite vividly that she was Jackie Tyler's daughter. "Rose, I didn't expect to be changing for a while." To his embarrassment, he heard a note of pleading in his voice. "I didn't think it would be an issue. My body usually lasts longer than this – it hasn't been that long since my last regener-"

"You've done this before?" she interrupted through gritted teeth, her voice rising in pitch, a definite danger sign. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands clenched at her sides. He took a precautionary step away from her.

"This is my ninth body, my tenth regeneration," he admitted reluctantly, his eyes not meeting hers.

"Tenth!" Her voice was so high, soon only dogs would be able to hear her. "Are you completely daft? How could you – "

"I think this is my cue to leave," Jack cut in quickly. "We'll talk later, Doc. Go easy on him, Rose," he added with a chuckle. "He's only been conscious for less than a half hour."

The Doctor felt a measure of tension leave him once Jack was gone. Exhaustion was rapidly swamping him again, and he lowered himself to sit on the bathroom floor, his back against the wall. "Rose, 'm sorry," he began helplessly. He hated feeling helpless.

All the anger seemed to flow out of Rose in an instant, leaving her looking pale and tired as well. She sank down next to him, leaning against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Doctor," she said softly. "I didn't mean to jump all over you. It's just … it's all been so mad, and now I find out I almost really lost you." Her voice quavered as she said this.

"Wouldn't have lost me," he replied. He took her hand in his; their fingers laced together familiarly, and it was like coming home. "Different body, same man."

"But I don't want you to look different. I like you the way you are!" she protested indignantly. The statement made his hearts ache strangely.

"Come on, Rose, I could've been a pretty boy," he teased her, bumping her shoulder with his. "I know you like those."

"I don't want a pretty – oh, stop trying to take the mickey out of me!" she said with a hint of crossness.

"Sorry," he apologized gently as he saw how much the idea upset her. "Just trying to lighten the moment." Although he would never admit it, he was absurdly pleased that she cared so much for this daft old face. He paused, stroking his thumb over her knuckles absently. "I just don't know what happened to keep me looking the same. I don't understand why I didn't change, and I don't like things I can't understand."

"Do you have any control over how you'll look?" she asked after a minute of silence.

"Not much. Suppose I could try to influence it a bit, but I've never done it before. Never had a reason to," he shrugged.

Another brooding silence, then Rose asked hesitantly, "Doctor, why did you almost die? What happened on the Gamestation? Why can't I remember?"

The Doctor sighed tiredly. So much had happened and he still only remembered and understood so little. He needed time to sort it all out and figure out what was safe to tell her. "Rose, could we talk about this later? 'M still knackered. Usually I would put myself into a healing coma after regeneration, but I've been unconscious for so long – and you kept the tea near, which was perfect, by the way – that I think I'm ok. Just need a nap – and a shower." He grimaced. "Shower first, I think. Need to get out of these clothes before they walk away on their own."

"In case you were wonderin'," said Rose with a teasing grin, "Jack changed your clothes. I would've, but I wanted to preserve your Time Lord modesty."

"Now I'm worried!" he said with mock alarm. "Where were you? In case I needed your protection?"

"Oh, I was there," she answered breezily, her smile widening. She bumped against his shoulder playfully. "In the corner - takin' pictures."

"Cheeky minx!" he exclaimed with a flash of his own manic grin. He rose to his feet and, taking her outstretched hands, pulled her up. She overbalanced slightly, bumping into him, and he grasped her by the shoulders to steady her. She peered up into his face searchingly.

"Sure you're strong enough to stand in the shower?" she asked concernedly.

"Volunteerin' to help me?" he rejoined, eyebrows raised wickedly.

"Now who's cheeky?" She flashed her tongue-touched smile at him, and one of his hearts definitely skipped a beat or two. "Just don't want you crackin' your head on the tile – or maybe crackin' the tile with your head."

"Oi!"

"I'll check on you later, ok?"

"Don't worry, Rose, I'll be fine," he said reassuringly. He remembered something he had wanted to ask. "By the way, where's my jacket?"

Rose's expression became instantly nervous and she cast her eyes away from his. "I'm sorry, Doctor," she said remorsefully. "It got torn pretty bad while we were dragging you to the med bay."

"What? Not my jacket – I love that jacket!" He knew they had been trying to help him, but… his jacket? It was seriously amazing, that jacket, and he had just fixed the pockets so they could hold even more…

Rose looked back up at him, and her eyes were sparkling. "Just kidding, just kidding!" she said swiftly, throwing up her hands in pretend defense. "It's hangin' in your closet good as new. And your sonic's in the pocket, too," she added.

Before he could think of a comeback, she went up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. He caught himself before he put his fingers up, like a lovesick schoolboy, to the burning spot where her lips touched him. His emotions felt wildly imbalanced, his responses to them strong and unpredictable. "See you soon."

He rolled his eyes but said nothing about her joke. "Go get some sleep – you're dead on your feet."

She slowly, reluctantly turned away and walked toward the door. The Doctor followed her with his gaze, loathe to let her leave but knowing he needed time alone to sort out how his world had gone so inexplicably pear-shaped. She paused in the doorway, however, and, after a moment, spun around and launched herself back into his arms. He staggered slightly, still unsteady on his feet, but caught her automatically and pulled her close to him, chests and hips and thighs pressing together. Her head fit under his chin perfectly, and he rested his cheek on the bright gold of her hair with a sigh. He could smell traces of her shampoo and the lavender lotion she had used and something else, something wonderfully and uniquely Rose. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, holding to him tightly, and he could feel her hot human hands through his shirt and the quick beat of her heart against him. She took a deep breath and let it out in a long, shuddering sigh, and he felt like he could stand here in this bathroom forever, as long as she stayed in his arms.

"I'm so glad you're back," she whispered simply.

He pulled back from her slightly and framed her face in his hands. A single tear had slipped past her lashes; he wiped it away with his thumb. "Me, too," he answered softly and pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. Her skin was silk under his fingers and lips, and everything inside begged him to hold onto her so he could just keep breathing her in, his beautiful, brilliant girl. But he forced himself to step away from her warmth.

"Go on, now. Get some sleep," he repeated, turning her around and nudging her toward the door.

She looked back at him again as she reached the doorway. "I have to call Mum before I fall asleep and let her know you're ok."

"Nah, don't ruin her day," he said with a wry grin.

"Don't be so surprised -she's been right worried about you," she said, shaking an admonishing finger at him.

"The universe must be coming to an end – Jackie Tyler is concerned about me!"

Rose laughed, a low, throaty sound that made his nerves hum. "Sweet dreams, Doctor."

"You, too, Rose."

For a long time the Doctor stood under the hard, hot spray of the shower, trying to understand the strange reality in which he now found himself. Regeneration. The impossible, terrifying newness of Jack. And Rose… Rose, who he instinctively suspected was the key to the mysteries. Rose, whose presence and touch now made his blood seem to sing in his veins.