A/N Wow I am so sorry this took so long guys! I have been incredibly busy though with work AND online creative writing courses that have been taking up all my creative writing energy!

Plus a huge writer's block doesn't help.

I realized I needed to bite the bullet and get this chapter done when I started dreaming it!

Chapter Five

The smooth warm wood was comforting. He pushed the door open and smiled at the sound of the familiar creak. The TARDIS was the most beautiful sight he could imagine. Tears stung his eyes as he leaned down to caress the edge of the console.

He put a hand to his mouth and coughed. Must be coming down with something. He thought. Timelords did not get sick. Well, at least not with human sicknesses. He gave another short cough and he was suddenly aware of the single pulse of his one heart. He tasted iron. Drawing his hand away from his mouth, his face grew hot when he saw the droplets of blood. He began to cough more violently until, with one hand on the console to ease his fall, he fell to his knees. His eyes watered. Long ropes of blood and saliva fell sluggishly onto the grating until they fell through with a steaming sizzle of liquid on the hot mechanisms.

Human. He thought, fully realizing that he was choking. Susceptible to any disease… no immunizations… "Rose?" He choked and tried desperately to draw a breath. The rattle of liquid approaching his lungs with every breath, caused him to claw futilely at his throat with shaking hands. Great globs of his life blood slid horrifically up his throat and past his teeth. He knew he was dying. The hum of the TARDIS was his only comfort as he lay on his side, curling his arms around his legs.

He woke gasping. His naked torso, brow, cheeks, even the hollow of his throat, glistened with a profuse layer of sweat. His pajama pants clung to his legs uncomfortably. His body heaved with his heavy breathing and he automatically put his hands to his throat. His trembling hands frantically felt is face, scalp, and chest, as though convincing himself that he was alive and whole. One hand lingered on his chest, feeling the beat of his single heart. That particular part was not a dream. He swallowed hard at the thought of his unimmunized body, like a newborn baby, completely at mercy to every illness that a human can have. He wondered whether Donna had had immunizations, and whether it had transfered to him.

He looked to his left and found Rose beside him. She lay on her side, her back to him, clothed in an oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts. One leg was twisted away from the sheets, the knee nearly touching her chin. The other leg intruded upon his side of the bed. He legs were pale, not matching her tanned arms.

He sat up slowly, knowing that she was a light sleeper and not wanting to disturb her. Her leg shifted, and she straightened her body and turned toward him. "Doctor? Wuss a' mah'ah?" She slurred, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Nothing," he whispered. She turned away back onto her side with a groan. The place where he had lain was damp. He moved to lie close behind her, fitting his body around her shape. He pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder. She pulled his arm around her and across her breasts to rest in the hollow of her neck.

"In a natural habitat, the creature appears human, and interacts with other humans." Norm's voice shook with repressed emotion. All he wanted to do was stamp this anomaly out of existence before it could reproduce and spill its infected genes into the population.

"Doctor Haxall," He said nervously. "How much longer do you want to observe it? If we wait much longer we'll have to take its mate in as well, should they prove genetically compatible. She's human… it could cause a scandal. It could get ugly if word got out that we took the girl for our studies."

Samuel Haxall nodded slowly, his hands folded in front of his mouth. He sat behind his desk and gazed up at the man in front of him. "We'll watch his home for three more days, then we will take him."

"Sir, it has already mated with the girl, should we risk taking her too?"

"There is no reason to believe that they could reproduce. His DNA is not similar enough to be compatible with a human. We will keep watch on the flat after have taken him. Should she prove to be pregnant, we will be forced to take her. The research is invaluable."

The next morning, and the beginning of their first day in their new, pricey, flat, Rose shouted down the hall. "Doctor?" At the sound of his name, he lowered the newspaper and pocketed his glasses inside the jacket of his brand new pin striped suit. "Have you seen my white jumper?"

He drained the last of his tea and yelled, "It's in the hamper."

"What do you mean it's in the hamper?"

"Its current location is in the hamper."

"But that was a color load!" Rose appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, a towel wrapped around her body, her mouth open, and her eyes wide.

The Doctor frowned and pulled his ear. "I suppose there were a couple colored knickers. Why?"

Rose let out an exasperated sigh and turned to storm in the direction of the laundry room shouting, "You weren't kidding when you said you didn't do domestic!"

He blinked in confusion at her behavior and returned to his paper, only to be obstructed by a view of red knickers and a blotchy pink jumper. "You absolute sod."

He cringed as he examined the ruined clothing. "Don't you like pink?" He flinched, expecting a slap.

"It's my mum who likes pink! You should know that by now." She smacked him in the chest with the clothes.

"I'll buy you a new one, I promise," He called desperately after her as she marched back down the hall in pursuit of a new outfit. "Along with that carousel…"

He folded the newspaper with a sigh and got to his feet, stretching his arms. He felt a short spasm of pain in his back and reasoned that he must have pulled a muscle. Deciding that it was probably extremely normal for humans, he shrugged as he followed Rose's lead to the bedroom.

He stopped outside the bedroom door and leaned up against a tower of cardboard boxes. Through the crack in the door, he saw Rose examining herself in the mirror, wearing a blue skirt and a beige cotton bra. It had been only twelve days since the events at Bad Wolf Bay. Doctor had managed to recreate his sonic screwdriver after a number of nights of shameless dumpster diving for scraps. He had found a flat for the two of them in record time after withdrawing massive amounts of money from an ATM (he promised himself it would be the very last time, and would thereafter earn all of his money).

"Were you watching me?"

The Doctor blinked to see Rose standing at the door, now dressed in a white polyester button up. "Um… yes. Do you mind?" He breathed, his expression one of a deer caught in headlights.

Rose smiled, shook her head, and nudged the door fully open. "I know this isn't my usual, but you did say you'd take me out today." She slipped a brown leather heal onto one foot.

Then it happened. It was as though he had fallen asleep. His eyes slipped out of focus and he swayed where he stood.

"Doctor?" Rose frowned at him as she tightened the strap around her ankle.

He shook his head, blinking rapidly, and grinned reassuringly. "I'm fine." He stooped to hand the other shoe to her, but Rose did not miss when his hand brushed the wall for stabilization. "Blimey, you're nearly as tall as me in those heels." He offered her his arm and Rose took it, a slow smile spreading over her face.

"Last day before Torchwood. We need to enjoy it!" Rose grinned as the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Whatever my past discrepancies with them are, at least they are willing to pay for my degree." They walked hand in hand from the flat and out into the busy street. "My only problem," the Doctor continued, "is deciding which PhD to pursue first. At the moment I have thirty five ideas for the one on astrophysics. I'm not sure a dissertation will be enough room for one of them though."

"Set the trigger to eight, Norm."

Norm frowned at his superior from his place at the computer monitor, he never could get used to taking orders.

"Blood pressure?" Doctor Samuel Haxall barked from his position at the table, clipboard in hand.

"According to the chip, it's far too low, 50 over 35, he should be unconscious."

"And is he?"

"No."

"Good god." He muttered and switched the recorder on. "BP 50 over 35. Specimen X is conscious." He switched the recorder off. "lets see how far it will go, Norm."

A/N Thanks for reading, please review!