A/N: Another big chapter ... sorry it's so long winded...

BUT! This is a fairly light hearted chapter. Quite light hearted in fact. I needed some levity, I really did. So I played about with Trapp's character a bit to not only get a better feel for him, but to lighten Rose up for a little while. I think she needs some cheering up and laughter...

I am taking some serious artistic license with the whole growing of TARDIS things ... I'm really just making that stuff up as I go and creating a whole new ideal that I'm kind've getting a kick out of. Sorry if it doesn't fit your ideas of it ... I like the thought of them having their own independent personalities and cheeky playfulness about them. The Doctor's TARDIS seems to have her moments ... why not all of them, yeah?

Anyway... hope you enjoy. Am hitting the campground this weekend, so no new chapters till Monday.

~~oooOOOooo~~

"This perfect little lady is a juvenile Pundeharhiran," Trapp said with a smile on his face that matched the smile in his voice. "Or as you know it, a TARDIS." His smile brightened and he gave her a look of warmth that held the smallest bit of pride to it. "Yours."

Rose's expression of curiosity fell to one of absolute shock and disbelief. "A T-TARDIS?" she queried with a quiet stammer. Her eyes shifted to the white wooden walls of the small cupboard. "As in a ship capable of flying through time and space?"

His eyes lifted and his cheeks crinkled just slightly as he tipped his head side to side. "Yes. And no." He straightened his expression and turned to face her directly. He didn't move from the doors of the ship, and seemed to not want to take his hand from her exterior.

"She's only a youngster right now," he lectured gently. "Just a baby. She's got a long way to go, and a lot of mechanics to be installed before she'll be capable of travelling throughout the universe."

Rose inhaled deeply; it was a sound of disappointment. "I see."

"They aren't born with the ability to time travel," he continued with a smile. "That's merely the gift that we Time Lords give them as part of our symbiotic relationship with them." His lips pursed at that idea. "Well. If you could call it a gift. Some might argue about the exploitative nature of turning a temporal and sentient species into our own personal travel machines." He chuckled. "And trust me, there have been far more than a few protest marches through the capitol by activists crying out about cruelty to Pundeharhirans."

She smiled wryly. "Really? They do that even on Gallifrey?"

Trapp thumbed at his nose with an expression of annoyance. "Yeah. I've seen my share of nasty protests and had far more eggs than necessary thrown at me for being an enabler of the cruelty."

Rose's face widened to surprise as she imagined Gallifreyan streets being overrun with chanting protestors carrying placards with images of the Police Box TARDIS covered with a giant red no entry sign. She had to wonder if Gallifrey's version of the great unwashed masses that made up the bulk of the activist scenes were as pierced, tattooed, unshaven, dread or multicoloured haired and militant as the ones on Earth.

"They didn't hurt you, though, did they?"

He seemed slightly startled by her question, but shook his head with a smile. "Oh no. Not at all. Nothing more than my pride. For all of their caterwauling, they do understand that I am one of the few who does truly nurture and protect the Pundeharhirans." He ran his hand along the wooden door of the baby TARDIS and lifted his head to look up to her top. "We don't outfit any cradling who doesn't want to be fitted."

"And that happens?"

He nodded and shrugged lightly. "Not too often, but we do experience occasions where the Pundeharhiran rejects any attempt at modification. Some of them want to remain as elders to the younglings, some wish to be mothers. Some of them even form pairing bonds and refuse to leave each other. " He looked back to her with a soft expression on his face. "We have special nurseries for the bonded pairs. There's no way we'll separate them."

"That sounds quite beautiful," Rose admitted wistfully. "Love between machines. It's hard to imagine."

"Nah," he drawled with a wink in his eye. Then he took on a contemplative expression. "Well, not to those of us who work in the nurseries and looming cradles anyway. That isn't to say that it's a frequent occurence, though, Rose. Male Pundeharhirans are very few and far between, and in a lot of cases we make sure that they're separated from the females." He winced with an expression of absolute embarrassed distaste. "Because if you get a particularly randy one near a harem …" He shuddered. "Put it this way: there's a lot of clean up involved.."

Rose had to laugh. There were several images that immediately came to mind; none of which she was willing to share with him. The more visions her mind supplied the more she pealed with laughter.

"It's not funny," he whined pathetically. "Do you have any idea just how sticky and smelly and just plain disgusting a Pundeharhiran spore release is?" He slumped backward in a dramatic gesture and moaned. "And there's so much of it." He then flicked his finger in the air as though trying to shake off something filthy. "And if you get it on you, Rose, there is no way you can quickly free yourself of it without destroying whatever dignity you have – and I'm a Time Lord, I have plenty of dignity that I have to keep intact – oh, and don't dare complain about the ick of it all lest those pretentious Drama Queens throw a fit…"

Rose was quite obviously amused. "The images I have in mind right now…"

"Are probably quite accurate," he shot in quickly. "Disgusting mating process I can tell you." He shuddered again and actually rubbed at himself as though trying to rid himself of the stuff. "You know. I'm fairly certain that many aspects of interpretive dance were developed by Hyperloom workers who unwittingly walked face first into a wash of Pundeharhiran spore."

Rose's whole face contorted into an expression of brilliant amusement and she pealed out a sound of laughter so loud and melodical that it took him into glee right along with her. His face lit up with laughter so hearty that he had to lean forward and hold onto his belly to maintain his stand.

It was a good couple of minutes before either of them could calm themselves into a decent composure, and they both calmed themselves down with deep breaths and thick swallows.

She still had some residual giggle in her throat when she tried to speak again, and so her voice was slightly crackled. "So those that don't end up covered in sticky TARDIS sperm?"

"Spore," he corrected with a crinkle of distaste across his face. "Whilst both substances are equally revolting in their own unique ways, male Pundeharhiran release spores, not sperm…"

"Is there really a difference?"

"Quite a big difference, in fact." His face contorted completely in disgust. "But really. Can we please change the topic of conversation? There's quite a long emotional recovery period required after an event like that, and I'm still only a decade past the last one."

Rose had to laugh again. "And you call the TARDIS Drama Queens."

He lifted an indignant brow. "Have you ever seen a Pundeharhiran tantrum, my dear Rose?" He watched her shake her head with a smile. "No, I didn't think so." He pointed a finger of warning at her. "And pray to your deity that you never do."

"If you had the choice," she teased with a cheeky grin. "Between…."

"Oh can we get on with it," Trapp said with a moan. "We have an ailing Pundeharhiran to attend to. Questions of what is the better choice between." He winced and shrugged. " That isn't even a choice. One doesn't choose to partake in any one of those events. They just happen."

"But if you had to choose," she pressed with a bump at his shoulder with hers.

He looked down at her with an arched brow. "I'd regenerate," he answered tonelessly. "Over and over again." He extended his hand toward the baby TARDIS. "Now, if you will. Your little one needs you."

"Me?" She looked toward the silent little cupboard. "Why would the TARDIS need me? I don't know anything about growing a TARDIS."

"Pendralambelle," he corrected gently. "And she seems to feel quite differently about your ability to care and nurture."

"Pendra-what?" she asked incredulously.

"Pendralambelle," he repeated with a smile. He noted the drop in Rose's brow that indicated confusion and continued with a flirtatious arch in his brow. "That's her name."

"Her name?"

He hummed in the affirmative and rocked lightly on his heels as his hands slid inside his pockets. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."

Rose couldn't help but grin at his playfulness. In response her voice fell to a tone of teasing. "Is that really her name?"

"It is."

She tipped her head at him and narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "Like her actual name, not one you just chose to give her?"

His face lengthened with absolute innocence. He could read the accusation in her gaze. "Oh. No. That's actually her name. Her honest-to-goodness-I-vow-that-I-didn't-make-it-up name."

"And how do you know that?" she teased with a chuckle.

"Simple," he answered with a pet at the door and indignance in his voice. "Because she told me. Didn't you, Pendra? May I call you Pendra, Sweetheart?"

"And you speak TARDIS … right?"

"Pundeharhiran," he corrected victoriously. "And yes. I do. As I am the adopted father of over a thousand of them right now it helps to be able to connect with the cheeky little events of time and space that multiply all around me." He looked back over his shoulder to his ship. "Especially when you have a rambunctious and petulant little adolescent on your hands like the one parked behind me." He blinked at it. "Don't you go thinking I haven't heard you complaining in my head, Tedendugalia. I'm not deaf; I'm just not listening to you right now."

Rose chuckled into her curled fingers.

Trapp leaned down to talk quietly against her ear. "He is the king of the drama queens, that one. Always wanting attention. So let's make him happy, shall we?" He then leaned back up and thumbed over his shoulder. "Teden back there is an 89B-Mark II Prototype capsule. Only one of his kind. His drive and guidance systems are based on the original Acalian design put together by Lord Verostephocalen, but we had to eliminate most of the original temporally disastrous design protocols. We relocated the placement of his time vector generator to a less conspicuous area of the command room, and the telepathic circuits that give his pilot a stable reality quotient when he's messing about with…. "

"Trapp?"

The tone of voice she used to call his name suggested to the Time Lord that it wasn't the first time she'd tried to get his attention. He stopped talking with a sharp inhale and looked toward Rose with a curious expression. "Sorry. Yes?"

"You're speaking Gallifreyan," she admitted with a light chuckle.

His expression fell into one of apology. "Oh dear. Have the translation circuits failed?" He turned quickly. "Not that you can understand me, now, but please accept my sincerest apologies. Give me a moment to go look into that…"

"No," she said with a peel of laughter. "I mean. That kind've tech speak is over my head. It sounds like a completely different language to me. Believe me, Trapp. You're translating fine."

He blew out a breath of relief. "Well. That's good to hear." He shot a look toward his machine. "He can be a bit of a prankster when he's not getting his way. Despite all my efforts to stabilise his systems, his sentience does outwit the protocols from time to time – usually at the most inopportune times."

"I bet you wouldn't have him any other way, though," she offered softly in a voice filled with admiration for man and machine.

He grinned and shook his head. "Absolutely not, Rose. Absolutely not. The best partnerships are formed between peoples who have an equal say in the relationship." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and let out a long breath. "If only I could convince half of the Time Lords who fly inside the capsules of that – we'd have far less machines sitting in my dry docks with work orders on them."

"Keeps you busy, then."

"You have no idea," he replied breathily. He then petted the doorway of the young TARDIS and offered Rose his other hand. "Now, that all said. I'm here for a reason. Let's you and me work on easing the distress of this beautiful young lady that called me here for help."

Rose quickly moved toward him with such swift movements that she appeared to glide across the dusty concrete floor. Her hands held at her chin and her shoulders were raised hopefully as she took a position close enough to Trapp that their shoulders touched. With a look of question toward the Time Lord, Rose sought permission to reach out and touch the cupboard in front of her.

"Go ahead," he advised her gently. He gestured toward the TARDIS with a small shift of his chin. "She needs you more than she does me right now."

She pulled one hand out from under her chin and tentatively reached out to touch the wooden door. She hesitated and let her fingers hover just shy of the wood. "Do you know what's wrong with her?"

"I do," he replied quickly. He swallowed and seemed to speak around a lump in his throat when he continued. "Easy fix, really. She's looking for a symbiotic link to her pilot." He gently took hold of Rose's wrist and guided her movements to press her palm against the wood. His voice was tender, gentle, and full of warmth. "She's reaching out, Rose, but she's being rejected. It's putting her in distress."

Rose closed her eyes and smiled as she felt the gentle hum of the TARDIS under her hand. "Oh, Sweetheart," she cooed with the same gentleness shown by Trapp. "I'm so sorry. You're looking for John, aren't you?" She lightly stroked the door. "You've been reaching out to him and he's been ignoring you. He thought you'd died. He came in and you were black and all shrivelled up. He gave up. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She pressed her forehead against the door and let out a shaking breath. "He'll be home soon, and I'll tell him about you. I'll tell him and you can find your link with him."

No.

The word was whispered softly against her ear and made Rose open her eyes and turn her head to look up at Trapp, who remained standing tall like a sentinel at her side. "What was that, Trapp?"

He inhaled sharply as though caught off guard and gave himself a light shake. "Sorry, Rose?"

"You said no. In my ear," she answered him cautiously. "Just now."

He shook his head. "No. I didn't." His face crinkled along one side with a half smile that curled only one side of his lips. "You were connecting with her. It would be very rude of me to interrupt something as intimate as that."

"But I heard it," she blustered out breathily. She pointed to the side of her head. "You said No in my ear when I told her we would wait for John."

He pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "In your left ear, right?"

She nodded frantically. "Yes. That's right." She pointed to it. "Right here."

"I'm standing on your right, Rose." It was obvious he was trying hard not to sound condescending when he said that, but it was impossible to execute a reminder like that without doing so, so he shrugged and apologetic rise of his shoulders. "I can't throw my voice like that. Sorry."

Her face fell and her fingers shifted a little against the wood. "Then who?"

He slid his hands into his trouser pockets and slapped lightly against his thighs. "I'd wager that it was Pendralambelle who was talking to you." He removed one hand from his pocket to scratch at the back of his head and then tug at the top his ear. "If and when a Pundeharhiran vocalises – which isn't often, mind – it's generally heard in the left ear." He tapped at his. "To be perfectly honest with you, I'm not quite sure why that is. I think it has something to do with the specific telepathic receptors required for the symbiotic link with…"

Rose snatched her hand away from the wooden exterior of the TARDIS and backed off at least a full stride away from it. "Hold on, What?"

His eyes shot wide, but only for a moment before they crinkled in pain. "Rose. Go back to her, please?"

"Are you tellin' me she was in my head, Trapp?"

He raised his hand to press the base of his palm against his eye. He nodded shortly with a wince on his face. "Yeah. She was. And now she's in mine. Wailing. Rose, please go back to her. She's crying inside my mind and it hurts."

Rose held both hands up in front of her and stepped backward even further away from them both. "No," she panted out vehemently. "No more. I don't want anyone in my head. Not again. Not anymore."

Trapp's face was set in a wince down along the right side of his face. He was in a side lean of discomfort when reached out a hand to Rose in a request for her to come back. "Rose. It's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of. You'll barely know she's there."

Rose slapped at his hand when his fingers brushed her arm. "I said no," she growled heatedly. "I don't consent."

The expression on his face was a mix of pain and confusion. "Rose…"

"Are you gonna force it too?" she charged out hotly. She lifted her hands to her temples and pressed her fingers tightly against them. "Are you going to ignore the stupid little ape and force your way into my head regardless of me sayin' no?"

Trapp's expression shifted to utter annoyance. He straightened himself to full height that – Rose noted with a hard swallow – could rival the stature of the Doctor, and loomed high over her.

"One," he began darkly. "Never call yourself a stupid little ape. It's a foul insult and is not what you are – it's certainly not what I see when I look at you, anyway." He sniffed with a crinkle in his lip. "Two. Accusing a Time Lord of the intent to assault and force himself into your mind represents the single most heinous act that any Gallifreyan can commit." He stepped closer to her and kept his glare dark. "It's something so expressly forbidden on my planet – and across more than a thousand other solar systems – that it isn't even a consideration even by those who have truly evil intentions."

Rose swallowed thickly and inhaled a panicked breath as he took another looming step toward her. Fury, it seemed, was not a trait held only by the Doctor. It seemed that any of his people were capable of the Oncoming Storm behaviour.

"That said," he growled when he finally stood quite close to chest to chest with her. His glare softened to concern. His voice softened as well. "Three. The infliction inside your fearful accusation tells me that you have suffered a mental intrusion assault before.."

Rose gulped, but she didn't readily give anything away.

He stared into her eyes for a long moment. Searching. She could tell that he was searching for something.

Finally, he blinked long lashes over his intense blue eyes and lowered his head. "And quite recently if the slightly glazed and reddened surface of your eyes are any indication."

"It's probably the effect of the pain medication I took earlier that you're seeing," she tried with a weak smile.

His voice was quiet. "Pain for what?"

"Migraine," she answered quickly. She rolled her shoulder in a slightly nonchalant gesture. "Woke up with one this morning. I took a couple of pills that my husband left for me." Her brows tightened. "Not quite sure what they were, if I'm to be honest with you. But they seemed to do the trick, I guess. I've still got a little ache, but the bulk of it's gone."

He nodded slowly. "I see." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"How about we focus on little Pendra, yeah?"

"It appears," he began in a whisper. He inhaled and lifted his head again to give her a weak smile. "That the little one isn't the only one who needs help."

"Really, I'm fine," Rose assured him quickly. Very quickly. Far too fast for the statement to be believed.

"Is it your husband?" At the shocked lift in her brow, he gestured toward her hand. "You're wearing a weddingband typical in the customs of the people of Sol III."

"It's fine. Really," she managed with a smile and a nervous shake of her head. "Nothing wrong with me and Vale. We're fine. Truly. Truly fine." She used both hands to point toward the baby TARDIS. "Now little Pendra on the other hand. She needs you."

He merely hummed a sound of noncommittal.

"Trapp," she called softly as she stepped a half stride closer to him and pressed her hand against his chest. She blinked her eyes slowly at the feel of the double-thump of two hearts beneath her fingertips and let out a breath at the comfort that sensation seemed to give her. "Please believe me."

He brought his hand up to lay it against her hand to push it flush with the breast of his Green tunic. "I can help you," he vowed softly. "I can take you from here. I can have him arrested. I can make sure that he'll never go into your head like that again."

She wriggled her hand underneath his and was surprised when the pressure of his touch increased to hold it in place. With a breath she lifted her head to look into his face. Up this close, she could see the way that his dark brows and lashes perfectly framed his crystal blue eyes to give him the most haunting beauty even in the most intense of glares.

"How could you be so eager to help me out of anything," she queried softly, "when you know absolutely nothing about me? For all you know I could be the single most evil person in the entire multiverse."

That made him open his mouth to let out a breathy laugh. He tapped at her hand and then let her go. "You have a baby Pundeharhiran who is out of her home element, yet is absolutely thriving. She also explicitly trusts you and has chosen you as her symbiotic bond mate." He winked and stepped back from her. "I'd say that makes you pretty alright in my book."

"Maybe she just likes me because she has no one else."

The look that crossed his face was almost indescribable. It was a mesh of shock, horror, disbelief, anger and genuine worry. "What has happened to you to make you believe anything like that about yourself?" His head tipped to one side and he regarded her with a soft expression of consideration. "What, Rose?"

She gestured toward the baby TARDIS. "Stop with the digressing you're doing, Trapp, and fix Pendra, will you?"

"To some degree I think I am," he murmured quietly.

"You said she's looking for a bond, yeah?" Talking business was a great way to change her focus off the more depressing matters. She took hold of that option and strolled up to Pendra with determination. She looked back at the green-suited Time Lord with brows of impatience high on her forehead. "Well? Come on Mr. Specialist in the Pundeharhirans. Let's see what will make this little one stop crying in your mind."

He let out a breath and nodded. "The more obvious solution not being an option," he gravelled hoarsely to himself as he shifted to stand at Rose's side.

Rose either didn't hear him, or she ignored the comment completely. "So she needs a bond mate?" She turned her head to look at Trapp looming at her side. "Any chance you can get her back to Gallifrey and find her a worthy Lord or Lady of time to bond with her?"

With almost indistinguishable movements, he shook his head. "She's cradled herself here for the moment," he began on a lecture. "Which means moving her might do her far more harm than good. Of course I say might, when I really should clarify that it could likely kill her to move her at this stage. It's not a guaranteed death, mind. It's possible that we could transport her safely back to Gallifrey and cradle her in one of the Dry-Dock cradles and she'd be perfectly fine."

"So is that a yes or a no?"

"She has to want to leave, though," he finished with a slide of his eyes toward Rose. "If she doesn't, then moving her will be impossible."

"And I suppose this is where you tell me that she doesn't want to leave, right?"

The very edge of his lip turned up into a smile. "You're a natural Punderharhiran mother, you know that?"

"Shut up."

"I'm a Time Lord, and that's impossible," he stated cheekily.

"Don't I know it," she breathed with mock suffering in both her voice and posture. She quickly straightened. "I know nothing about building or growing a TARDIS, nor do I have any clue about building their internal circuitry and mechanics."

He them rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. He hummed a moment in thought, and then let out a breath and even a smile. "If you're okay with me adding her to the registry back on Gallifrey, then I can assign myself as her official engineer and mechanic. It'll give me clearance to drop by here and there to make sure she's doing well. It'll also make the Lord Council happy to know that a wild Pundeharhiran is being adequately monitored."

He pursed his lips to absently suck at the air like he was issuing little kisses to it. "I'll need to get some information on her origins, of course, and just what techniques were used in growing her to this point so that I don't make any detrimental errors in her block transfer mathematical equations when connecting her to the eye of Harmony." He twisted his head to look at Rose. All softness and playfulness was now absent – here was a Time Lord getting down to business.

"Was she seeded or grown from a cutting?"

Rose's eyes widened. "Oh, she was given to us by the Doctor – a chunk off his TARDIS I assume."

Trapp's eyes widened, as did his mouth. He pointed toward the little cupboard. "Pendra is a cutting from the Doctor's Type 40?"

"I take it that's good?"

"Oh," he practically purred as his attention went back to the TARDIS. "Getting a cutting from his Capsule is like one of those unattainable bucket list dreams of a dying person. Except we're taking about living people. Time Lords. Hyperloom technicians specifically." He looked back to Rose. "You must've been more than just an acquaintance of the Doctor if you were given a piece of her." He smiled and spoke almost reverently. "His capsule must've really loved you."

Rose swallowed hard. "We got along okay, I suppose."

His brows pinched for a moment, but he seemed to shake it off quickly enough. "Right. So she's a cutting off the Type 40. I can go through the registry and see if we have any information of that particular looming and see if it can't give me any information on how best to work with little Pendra here to make her as strong as she can possibly be." He licked at his lip. "Probably wouldn't hurt to reach out to the Lord Doctor and see if he has some insight, or if he might bring in his old girl …"

"Best not," Rose breathed quickly.

"Pardon me?"

"Let's leave the Doctor out of this, yeah?" She didn't take her eyes off the TARDIS and so didn't look at Trapp when she spoke. "No sense in bothering him. It's a bit out of his scope of interest and all."

He was aghast. "What? A Time Lord not being interested in his faithful ship? You jest, Rose Tyler. Surely you jest."

Rose tipped her head toward the table behind them. "You can take all of that if you like. Those were the plans and designs that John had drawn up before we thought she'd up and died on us. I'm sure it has everything that you'll need to know without you ever having to contact the Doctor."

"But if I need to know specifics…"

"Don't," Rose shot harshly. "I don't want him showin' up here. D'you understand." She pointed again at the papers. "Everything you need to know is there. All of it. Everything that the Doctor could've possibly known about his TARDIS and how to grow a new one is all there. All of it. If it's not in there, then the Doctor doesn't know."

"You sound so sure of that," he said quietly.

"I am."

Trap walked over to the work bench and slowly swiped up the papers to straighten them up and pile them together. He seemed just the slightest bit put out as he tucked the pile underneath his arm and walked back toward her. "I'll go through this information over the next couple of days, get a few things sorted out on Gallifrey and come back with a few things I think you'll need to continue to sustain her over the next little while until we can move her into the next phase of her development."

"Does?" She swallowed uncomfortable. "Does that mean you're leaving?"

He smiled widely at that, and at the disappointment she conveyed in her tone. "You sound like you want me to stay."

Rose blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. She shook her head and gestured toward Pendra. "She. She needs you, yeah? You said she's distressed, but you haven't really done anything to make her better."

"True," he breathed through pursed lips. "I can bridge a temporary link between she and I for the moment until we find her a new pilot…" He winced suddenly and lifted a hand to clutch a fistful of hair beside his left temple. "Or not," he managed in a strangled tone. "Got it, Pendralabelle. Point given with piercing accuracy there, thank you." He looked toward Rose though only one eye. "She's kind've set on you being her symbiotic link mate."

Her face fell. "Oh."

"She's willing to wait."

"I see."

She shook himself free of what must've been quite a telepathic rant, and straightened himself up. "I do encourage you to think it over, Rose. Really I do."

She shook her head and winced with the thought. "I can't, Trapp. Not not. Not right now."

"She won't ever hurt you," he assured her gently. " I promise you that. You don't have to fear a connection with a Pundeharhiran. If anything, she'll protect your mind – ease your pains." He smiled. "You know that no Time Lord who has his or her own Capsule ever suffers from headaches." He winked. "Worth considering?"

Rose showed no amusement at all. She stared at the little cupboard with focused eyes. "If she's in my head, he'll see her. He'll find her." She swallowed. "I don't know if I can let that happen."

Trapp stepped in close to her, dipping his head to look with curious concern into the side profile of her face, where he could see that she was grinding at her jaw. "Are you in danger, Rose?"

"Not as such," she answered quietly without taking her eyes off the TARDIS. "He'll never hurt me. At least not like that."

"But he'll rape your mind," Trapp seethed quietly.

She remained silent, simply looking toward the cupboard with unblinking eyes and an open mouth. After a very long moment her mouth snapped shut and she shook herself free of her thoughts. She turned toward Trapp and held out her hand to him as her face broke out into the single most brilliant grin that he'd ever seen in his two incarnations.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you," she sang to him. "And I'm looking forward to seeing you and Teden again."

His brow lifted high and he curled a lip as he tipped his head toward his own capsule. "Really? You want him to come back with me?"

"Well," she said with a shrug of her shoulder up close to her ear. "He and Pendra seem to get on well enough?" She heard Trapp hum in question and pointed toward the two small cupboards. "Well in the time that you and I've been talking they've moved closer to each other. So if she likes him, then…"

"Oh," trap growled with a wag of his finger toward his TARDIS. "I don't think so. Nuh-uh." He strode quickly toward his own machine with a shake in his head. "She's a baby, Teden. A precious little youngling that needs some support and nurturing, not unwanted advances from a prowling adolescent."

Rose found herself in laughter at the stern admonishing that Trapp was handing out to his machine. The image of a grown man reading the riot act to an aluminum work cabinet that was just sitting quietly on the basement floor was absolutely priceless in her mind…

..And dammit. She just wanted to laugh. It felt so damn good to laugh again.

"So glad you find this so amusing, Rose Tyler," Trapp called from the door of his machine. "With this delightful little turn of events in play, I think it's time for me to take my leave. I'll come back in a day or so with a few things to help out, and to give her an official registration tag." He lowered his head and lifted his brows to urge her to speak up to his next question. "And you. You'll be okay, yeah?"

"I will," she answered him with a soft smile. "I promise you."

"Well, then," he chuckled. "If you promise, then who am I to disbelieve you?"

"Safe flight, Trapp," she called. "And thank you."

He grinned widely at her. "You're welcome." His expression fell to slight puzzlement. "Though I'm not entirely sure what for."

"For helping Pendra," she began with a look toward the small cupboard. "And for the laughter." She shifted her head in its entirety to make sure she looked at him directly. "I haven't laughed like that in a long time. Such a very long time."

"Well that could be taken either as an incredible compliment; or as a swipe for being as ludicrous as a Jester." He winked. "But I'll take the former on that, because the universe not hearing your magnificent laughter … that's an absolute travesty."

"Oh shut up," she called with humour. "See you later."

"You sure will, Rose Tyler. Sleep well, eat well, shower well, and whatever else you do then do that well, too." He shook his head at himself and disappeared behind the doors of his TARDIS. "I really need to research and find myself a life, I really do."

The door closed loudly behind him, and it was only a few seconds before the whining push and pull of the Rotor engines roared to life to take Rose's new friend back across dimensional walls and back to mother Gallifrey. She remained rooted to the spot and simply stared at the vacant space in the basement that the TARDIS called Teden had occupied moments earlier. Part of her will the friendly young Lord to return immediately, but she knew he probably wouldn't materialize again for days or even weeks .. if at all .. but she seriously hoped for his return. She'd missed it. Friends. Conversation. Fun.

…even family.

She missed it all. She really did. She'd forgotten how it felt to laugh and feel honest humour, to meet a perfect stranger and find the connection that just might make them friends.

It had been so long.

Rose turned her head to look at the white cupboard that was her baby TARDIS. She smiled apologetically as she walked toward her with her hands held out in front of her to lightly touch at the wood when she approached. She paused and stroked at the flaking paint and rough wooden surface, and then stepped in close to press both her hands and her forehead into the white painted door.

"I'm so sorry, Pendra," she cooed gently. "We'll work on a connection. We will. I just can't. Not right now." She slid her forehead down along the door as she slowly dropped to her knees. Tears leaked from the very edge of the eye as she felt her silent loneliness engulf her once more. "Is that okay? Please? A little later on? Mummy's just got a really bad headache right now."