"Rose, we're gonna be late!" The Doctor called back into the TARDIS. He straightened his cuffs. He wasn't about to tempt fate by wearing a tux tonight but the old girl had supplied him with a sharp new blue suit, which he'd paired with a deep red Oxford and a black tie rather than his habitual blue on blue, as the TARDIS had hinted he should. He suspected it was in order to match whatever Rose was wearing, but a hint was all he'd gotten, though he had to admit it made his suit a bit dressier than usual.
"Time machine!" Rose sang back from within the bowels of the TARDIS. The Doctor shook his head indulgently. She and the TARDIS had been conspiring like schoolgirls for the past several hours, and their impish humour zinged pleasantly along his bond with the ship. It made him think about how it might feel to be receiving Rose's emotions directly rather than secondhand. She'd taken to telepathy like a fish to water, but she hadn't mentioned anything further about bonding.
The Doctor frowned as he peered back into the TARDIS, waiting for Rose to emerge. The ball tonight would have been the perfect setting for a proposal, he suddenly realised, but his plans were no further advanced and he was disappointed in himself. Admittedly he hadn't exactly had much of a chance to purchase a ring - that was what tonight was about, after all. A rest, and a change of scenery. Taking the time to do something fun.
A few times, he'd attempted to slip out while Rose was asleep, but she would inevitably stir and he didn't want to arouse her suspicions. He straightened his tie. Now that they were back to travelling, he would make finding a ring his top priority. Rose deserved better from him.
~oOo~
Rose did a little experimental twirl in front of the mirror, equal parts anticipation and anxiety tightening in her belly. It wasn't that she seriously doubted what the Doctor's reaction would be, but it had been ages since she'd dressed up, and she couldn't quite shake the little voice that told her she shouldn't bother.
It wasn't as large a part as it had once been. If there was anything the telepathy lessons had impressed upon her, it was exactly how intense and enduring the Doctor's feelings for her were. Between that and all she'd seen and done in her travels, her self-esteem had gotten a major boost. Still, it was hard to completely vanquish the little voice in the back of her head (that sounded a bit like her mother) saying that she was a shop girl from the Estates and that was all she would ever be.
After their time spent floating in the Vortex, learning how to control her telepathy, Rose and the Doctor had looked at each other over breakfast one morning and knew that they were both ready to run again. The Doctor had told her that she had a good grasp of the fundamentals and now it was just a matter of practice. They'd set the randomiser, and landed on the planet Rheneia. The Doctor had bounded out of the TARDIS - already expounding the virtues of a rainbow sea and storms made of flower petals - right into the middle of a coup.
They'd quickly ascertained the nature of the conflict and though they both had opinions as to which side they supported, they remained carefully neutral as always, lending aid wherever they could and trying to keep casualties down. Luckily the Rheneians were by and large a sensible people and didn't villify them for this, both sides instead lauding them for their efforts.
The Doctor told her later that Rheneia was a peaceful planet but every few generations or so the same conflict would rear its head again, with most of society wanting nothing to do with it except for a few hotheads. The restored monarchy had gratefully invited them to a ball that night to celebrate, and the two of them had agreed it would be just the sort of break they had actually wanted, doubly welcome after the stress of being in a war zone for the past few days.
She eyed her reflection critically. The TARDIS had provided her with a scarlet gown to wear to the ball, and it was Rose's opinion that the ship had really outdone herself this time. The dress had a high halter neckline, and clung to her upper body as though painted there, hugging all her curves to drape in elegant folds around her legs. The asymmetrical hem, shorter in the front, would still allow her to run, if she had to, though she was quite uncharacteristically wearing heels - the TARDIS had directed her to them, and she trusted the ship to know whether or not running would be required - if push came to shove she could always slip them off.
By far the most striking feature of the dress, however, was that it was completely backless. Rose twisted to look over her shoulder at the line where the silken fabric skimmed her waist and thought the only shame would be that it meant she wouldn't be able to see the expression on the Doctor's face the instant he got the full effect.
No necklace was needed with this dress, so the only finishing touches were diamond dangle earrings to replace the hoops she always wore, then she patted the vanity fondly. She'd been helped by the TARDIS every step of the way, deeply aware of their stronger connection through all the lessons she'd completed; it was almost like having a girl's night. The ship chirped encouragement at her, and she nodded in satisfaction at the woman in the mirror. She looked like she belonged at a fancy ball, on the arm of someone like the Doctor. She couldn't wait to show him.
Grabbing a wrap from beside the door that would hide the best part of the dress until the opportune moment, Rose set her shoulders and walked out of the wardrobe room, eager to see her Doctor.
He was, predictably, still grumbling as she came into earshot. "Time machine nothing, Rose, we've landed so we're already part of events. We're the guests of honour at this ball, not sneaking in this time, so we can't just…"
"I suppose Time Lords wouldn't have a concept of being 'fashionably late,' would they?" Rose asked, lightly halting his tirade, and the Doctor turned, wearing an expression like he was about to argue, before catching sight of her and his face went slack, like he'd just been poleaxed by a cricket bat.
Rose caught her breath, too, at the striking figure the Doctor cut, but nervousness still fluttered in her chest the longer he went without a reaction. Still, it was something, to see the Doctor rendered speechless like this, and that was compliment enough for Rose. Seeing a way to gracefully diffuse the situation, she arched a teasing brow.
"What was that you were saying about being late…?" She went to move past the Doctor but his arms shot out, catching her by the shoulders. She turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden movement, and found herself transfixed by the intensity in his eyes that was every bit as powerful as that fleeting moment when her first Doctor had looked at her dressed for Cardiff. That Doctor had looked down, deflected; this one didn't look like he was capable of taking his eyes off her.
"Rose…" Her cheeks heated under his gaze, he looked at her like a birthing star, a fresh galaxy. "You look…" he seemed to struggle for words. "Absolutely stunning," he said at last, and Rose could no longer resist the temptation of his open mouth to suck on his bottom lip, which quickly turned into a heated snog as the Doctor pressed her gently against the door of the TARDIS.
Sure stunned you, Rose thought cheekily, and felt his wholehearted agreement. It was getting easier, though still difficult, to exchange thoughts when they were touching like this, their minds having become more and more attuned to each other through hours of practice. Easing regretfully out of the kiss with a final peck, she ran her fingers carefully through the hair behind his ears, since she hadn't been able to grab it during the kiss for fear of mussing it.
"Thank you, Doctor," she said, and then continued before he could respond. "Now, we really will be late."
They took a quick moment to compose themselves and then the Doctor offered his arm. "Might I have the honour of escorting you to the ball, Dame Rose?"
Rose slipped her arm through his, twining them until they were holding hands. It was an unconventional hold, but it suited them. "It would be my pleasure, Sir Doctor," she teased, touching her tongue to her teeth as she grinned at the memory of Scotland and how far they'd come since.
Twilight was deepening as they made their way across the manicured lawn, whimsically shaped topiaries looming out of the shadows at them. The white gravel path crunching beneath their feet was rendered lilac in the gloam, and the scent of honeysuckle was heavy in the air.
Rose squeezed the Doctor's arm, saying nothing, just drinking in the moment. The Doctor squeezed back, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.
When they arrived at the vestibule, Rose made sure to go ahead of the Doctor. A smartly dressed attendant took her wrap. Behind her, Rose heard the Doctor's breath hitch. She glanced over her shoulder to catch him swallowing visibly, the heat in his eyes like a banked fire, setting her alight.
An instant later, he was beside her, one hand coming to rest automatically in the small of her back like he couldn't help himself (which, Rose thought with a touch of smugness, he probably couldn't).
"Rose Tyler," he murmured in her ear as they joined the queue to enter the ballroom, words nearly a growl, and Rose suppressed a pleasurable shiver. "I hope that your intent when you put this on was to render me incapable of keeping my hands off you for the entire evening."
Rose grinned inwardly and thanked the TARDIS for providing an outfit that would start to make up for all the previous such events they'd attended when she'd wanted nothing more than to hear the Doctor say those words to her.
"Might've been," she said, smiling innocently up at him, watching his expression shift into something predatory that she licked her lips to see.
"Good," was all he said, eyes wide and dark, and then they'd arrived in the ballroom.
Rose caught her breath, surveying the scene. Everything sparkled, tastefully accented with filigree and hundreds of candles ensconced just so to achieve the maximum effect. Guests mingled in colourful profusion across the gleaming parquet floor, framed by long trestle tables adorned with ribbons and groaning under a heaping weight of delicacies. Massive gilt mirrors made the large space appear even larger, and the far wall consisted entirely of floor to ceiling windows. No ballroom would be complete without a massive chandelier and this one was an ornate vision in shimmering gold and silver, seeming to refract all the light in the room even as it produced more, so bright it nearly hurt to look at for long.
Rose felt like they'd stepped into a fairy tale. She'd attended many such events with the Doctor and wasn't easily impressed, but it wasn't every day she got to set foot somewhere that looked like it was taken directly from her fantasies.
She looked up at the Doctor and found him looking back at her, savouring her reaction. Only then did it register that he hadn't made an immediate beeline for the buffet. His restraint was obviously for her benefit, and it made her feel warm inside, at the tangible evidence that he was making a conscious effort to do as he'd promised and making this evening about them.
"Rose," he said in a low tone, as he guided her over to the dais to greet the queens whose regime they'd helped save, hand still firmly placed on her lower back, "it was never about the nibbles."
Rose wondered if he'd read her mind - given the nature of the latent telepathic awareness that was constantly buzzing between them these days, it wasn't uncommon for either or both of them to have flashes - but the Doctor shook his head.
"You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to attending one of these with you now that I don't feel I have to play pretend any more," he said, and the light in his dark eyes held such promise. Rose nearly melted against him right then and there, but she cast her mind back and realised that they hadn't gone to any fancy parties since consummating their relationship. She grinned up at the Doctor, but he smirked back at her.
"The most beautiful woman in the universe on my arm, and I'm finally able to take advantage," he said, so quietly Rose felt the words more than she heard them. She was robbed of the chance to respond as they arrived at the dais and greeted their majesties. Rose let the Doctor do the talking, as usual, still preoccupied with his words and the way they gave her goosepimples.
A brief squeeze of her hand was all the warning she got before she noticed both of the queens' attention was now focussed on her. Snapping back to the conversation, her mood shifted abruptly from thrilling happiness to stark horror as she realised her name had been mentioned. They were waiting for her to say something.
They asked if you might be willing to say a few words, the Doctor gently prompted her, and not for the first time, Rose blessed telepathy for allowing them to have nearly instantaneous conversations. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously - why hadn't she thought of this before? Rheneian society was heavily matriarchal (the reason for the conflict in the first place) and would rate her words far more highly than the Doctor's.
It was the classic nightmare come to life, called upon to do public speaking with no preparation, but it was worse because this was so naturally the Doctor's territory. Rose was fine with that - she was aware her talents lay elsewhere. She felt a rush of calm that wasn't hers and knew the Doctor had to be sharing his emotions. She took a deep breath.
"I'd be honoured, your majesties." Her voice shook a little, but she hoped it wasn't too noticeable. She turned to address the room, marvelling that the space she once thought so large suddenly seemed crowded with people. The Doctor kept his firm grip on her hand, and she set her shoulders. She'd spoken for planet Earth against a hostile alien race with the Doctor in a coma. She could do this.
"The Doctor and I would like to thank you all for your generous hospitality," she said first, trying to think of suitable words. "We're honoured by your welcome." Keep it simple, Tyler. "But we only helped where we could. The real heroes are all of you. The Rheneian people. You worked together to restore peace to your home and proved yourselves to be brave, resourceful, and merciful. We hope you will never need our kind of help again."
The experience of a matriarchal society was certainly refreshing, but she refused to let it blind her to how it wasn't actually any better. She wanted to say something about how maybe greater equality would prevent such conflict but knew it wasn't her place to interfere, limiting herself to a subtle reference to how this sort of thing kept happening.
There were assorted murmurs of approval that quickly broke into swelling applause, and Rose's cheeks burned, embarrassed. She hadn't said anything all that special, and was certain they were just humouring her, so it was a surprise when she felt a tidal wave of pride, and looked at the Doctor to find him staring at her with such open admiration that it made her slightly uncomfortable. She looked away quickly, unable to bear his gaze, but squeezed his hand in gratitude.
"Well said!" Her Left Royal Majesty swept down from her throne, deep indigo gown a-flutter. "Well said, indeed, Powell Rose!" She looked out upon the ballroom with her multi faceted, orb-like eyes. "With such a meet beginning, I declare the festivities officially open!" Looking back at Rose and the Doctor (or Rose assumed that's what she was doing, she could never actually tell what the eyes were looking at) she inclined her head.
"Doctor, Powell Rose, will you further honour us by leading the dance?"
Rose glanced involuntarily at the Doctor. She didn't actually expect him to refuse, but there was always a chance. The corner of his mouth turned up, and that was all the encouragement she needed to nod at the queen.
"Your Majesty, it would be our pleasure."
The queen clapped her hands twice, and the musicians in the corner started playing the native version of a waltz, lent a somewhat darker undertone by the Rheneian instruments, which sounded to Rose's ears like a cross between a zither and a cello. Rose, knowing what was expected of her, led the way to the floor, the Doctor trailing in her wake.
"You can let me lead, if you want," the Doctor whispered to her. "Rheneian dance is intended to flatter the woman."
Rose was happy to let the Doctor take charge for a little while after her unexpected speech, so she nodded gratefully. He shifted his grip on her, placing one gentle, long-fingered hand on her waist in a gesture that would have been chaste, were it not for the expanse of skin Rose was currently displaying. She shivered slightly - his touch was cool and the night was warm.
"Ready, Rose Tyler?" the Doctor asked. He looked at her like she was the only other being in creation, and her heart stuttered the way it always did.
"Show me your moves, Doctor," she teased, and he smirked as they began to dance.
Of course, Rose was quite familiar with his moves by now, both in and out of bed, and she smiled softly at the memory of multiple dance lessons with the Doctor - dancing at social functions was a common enough occurrence in their lives after all. Rose had enjoyed the lessons, taking to it quickly thanks to her gymnastics training, but they had still been fraught with peril as they were both at pains to disguise how the close proximity to the other was affecting them. And now here they were.
"What are you thinking about?" the Doctor inquired, close enough to her ear to make her hair stand on end. He spun her out and away, and when she was back in the circle of his arms she rested her head on his shoulder briefly before replying.
"Of how much I love you." She felt a burst of satisfaction when she heard his breath catch at her words and he pulled her involuntarily closer.
Rose heard murmurs rising in their wake as they passed; they must have cut quite a striking figure together. But her attention was all for the Doctor, as he led them around the floor as effortlessly as breathing and Rose honestly never thought she would have this even as she savoured the moment. Between the Doctor's heartsbeat and the drum accompaniment time felt suspended, weightless, and they were floating.
"I can't tell you how liberating it is not to have to pretend any more," the Doctor confessed, and Rose squeezed his hand, stifling a giggle.
"Can I tell you a secret, Doctor?" She took advantage of their temporary closeness to lean up and whisper in his ear. "You were never very good at pretending." The Doctor smiled ruefully, conceding her point.
"Well, I appreciate you letting me get away with it," he drawled, before spinning her again.
The dance drew to a close, and after a brief applause, couples eagerly swarmed the floor. The Doctor and Rose bowed out to rest for a bit, and retreated to the dais, where they were seated near Their Majesties, both of whom clapped politely as they approached.
"Magnificent," Her Right Royal Majesty proclaimed.
"Truly, we are graced by your presence among us," Her Left Royal Majesty chimed in.
"But tell me, Powell Rose." Her Right Royal Majesty leaned in conspiratorially. "What on Rheneia does a gorgeous woman such as yourself see in a man?" She sounded vaguely horrified. "Certainly his shape is pleasant enough, for a male, but wouldn't a woman serve you better?"
Rose was deeply uncomfortable speaking about the Doctor as if he wasn't present, but knew she had to play along to avoid giving offence. There was no way for her to verbalise everything the Doctor meant to her, and even if there were, she wouldn't present it to this audience, who couldn't understand it anyway.
"Erm. He's got really great hair. And a nice… throat," she said at last, seeking features that would distinguish him from a female. Beside her, the Doctor turned his squawk of outrage into a cough. "I like his ship, too," she hurried on, as the queens nodded knowingly.
The Doctor just smiled politely, as though this knowledge wasn't new to him and he appreciated the compliments. But Rose caught a flicker of his deeper unease through their joined hands and it was that glimpse that made her decide to go through with her ulterior purpose for the evening right then and there, instead of waiting for some undefined point by which she would have gathered her courage.
"I'd happily go into much greater detail later on," she said, squeezing the Doctor's hand in preparation to rise, "but would your majesties pray excuse us for a moment?" The Doctor looked at her in surprise but thankfully remained silent.
"Very well, Powell Rose," Her Left Royal Majesty proclaimed with a lazy wave of her hand, "but see that you don't take too long, you shall miss the hanabari."
"We wouldn't dream of missing the fireworks," Rose assured them, having pulled the Doctor to his feet as soon as they'd been granted permission. "Excuse us." She swept a curtsey, the Doctor bowing at her side after a hardly noticeable hesitation, and led the way off the dais, reaching for the Doctor's hand again as soon as they were safely ensconced in the crowd.
What's all this about, Rose? The Doctor asked, his voice in her head revealing the bewilderment he wouldn't allow to show on his face. Rose held off answering until they'd slipped through one of the sets of glass doors into the garden.
She maneouvered them to an isolated spot beyond the hedges where they'd have a good view of the sky - because one way or another, she doubted they were heading back to the party tonight.
"Rose?" the Doctor prompted again, out loud this time, and Rose tried to sort through the order in which she wanted to answer the Doctor's question.
She looked around - it was a beautiful spot. The bench was nestled in a tall hedge, surrounded on three sides. A trellis stretched across the opening, twined through with vines and native flowers. A bright moon shone down on them from a sky brushed with feathery clouds, lending a subtle silver glint to every outline and casting its dusky lavender veil over all. A fountain splashed somewhere out of sight.
The Doctor's concern was growing the longer the silence stretched, so Rose turned back to him, taking both his hands.
"Doctor, you know I love you for more than just… your hair, or the TARDIS?"
His brows knitted together in a frown.
"Of course I do Rose, why would you think otherwise?"
"Because I don't think you truly understand," Rose admitted quietly. "Because even though we've spent so much time in each other's heads, there's still a part of you that doesn't believe me when I tell you how much I love you. How beautiful you are. How I'm always going to stay with you." The Doctor opened his mouth as if to speak, but Rose squeezed his hands and he shut it again. His eyes as he watched her were wide and doleful, his face as open and vulnerable as she'd ever seen it.
"An' I get it, Doctor. I understand why when I say those things, it makes you pull back. I've seen it, in your head. I know. If we hadn't discovered what we did about Bad Wolf, I might even have agreed with you. The last thing I want is for you to be hurt." She freed one hand to cup his cheek, keeping her other hand firmly linked with his. An unnameable emotion mounted in his eyes as he kept them fixed on her face, and Rose couldn't have looked away even if she wanted to.
"But that also means I won't let you stay hurting when you don't have to be. Doctor, you're so alone, in your head." The Doctor made a low sound and she stroked the hair behind his ear to quiet him.
"You don't have to be alone anymore. I know you said you didn't want me to be with you just because of what I saw in your head, and I'm not. You are the man who saved my life. Who showed me the stars. Who proved to me that I was worth so much more than I'd been taught to believe. When I became Bad Wolf to save you, I didn't come back because trouble was just the bits in between, or because there was a plasma storm brewing in the Horsehead Nebula, or to a Doctor who danced."
She raised her other hand to cradle his head between them, not yet venturing near his temples. Already, the temptation was there to slip into his mind, to let her feelings do the talking for her. But it was important to her that she say this without the aid of telepathy.
"I came back to a ravaged space station filled with the dead, to a Doctor who had been about to destroy all life on Earth. I have seen your darkness, Doctor. It doesn't scare me. Not as much as the thought of you having to bear it alone."
The Doctor sat frozen between her hands, hardly breathing. Rose hadn't intended to talk for quite so long but a combination of nerves, the romantic setting, and how long she'd been waiting to say these words had removed her usual inhibitions. It was time.
"I made my choice a long time ago, that I was never going to leave you. Now that we know I won't have to, I'm not gonna hold back any more. Doctor…" Rose ran the words through her head one last time. She didn't know if this was the proper way to ask and it was too late now. She just hoped she wouldn't screw it up. She took a deep breath, and spoke the words that the TARDIS had been helping her with.
The Doctor's eyes shot wide. Rose bit the inside of her cheek, praying that she'd pronounced everything correctly, that the Doctor wouldn't be upset.
"Rose…" His voice was oddly breathless, carrying no weight in the air. He had to swallow several times before he could speak, Rose waiting with bated breath for his response, her heart hammering in her chest. "Say that again. Just one more time."
For one heartstopping moment, Rose was afraid that she'd said it wrong, that he hadn't understood her. But then she saw the way he was looking at her, like a man who'd resigned himself to never eating again suddenly being presented with a feast, and she understood. She smiled, no longer apprehensive, and repeated the words exactly. A ritual phrase spoken in the Doctor's native tongue. Will you bond with me?
The Doctor's eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a shuddering breath. Rose waited. There were tears in his eyes when he opened them again but a fierce joy shone from his face. Before Rose could do anything, he'd pulled her into his arms and was kissing her desperately, pulling away just as she'd managed to think about reciprocating.
"Yes."
Rose blinked, registering slowly that she'd asked a question, that the Doctor had answered. Tears started in her own eyes and the Doctor nodded in response to her expression, a single tear tracing down one cheek.
"Yes, Rose Tyler," he said, the words low and hoarse. "I would be honoured to bond with you."
He raised his fingers to her temples, waiting for her to do the same, and Rose felt a thrill that this was really happening, that they were doing this, right here and now. Both sets of hands were trembling as they made the connection and slipped easily into each other's minds.
The Doctor was upon her immediately, a bright blazon through her mind, as he held her closer than he ever had before. Is this okay, Rose? he asked.
More than, Rose assured him, basking in the unbridled light of his presence.
Rose, you fantastic… You brilliant woman. How did you…? There was no small amount of awe in the Doctor's tone and Rose shifted a bit uncomfortably.
It was the TARDIS, she explained. I asked her to help me. I don't think she'd mess about with something like this. I just hope I got it right?
The Doctor had projected them into a replica of the place where they were sitting; he picked her up and spun her around, his mental signature almost giddy. Exactly right, Rose Tyler, he said, setting her down and sobering slightly, though the excitement was replaced by a profound joy that stopped just barely short of swallowing her. Ask me one more time. Please.
Rose could sense the true meaning behind the request; not only had the Doctor never thought he would hear his language again on the lips of another living soul, he had never once entertained the idea that such a question would ever be directed at him. She obliged, repeating the words with the weight of her new understanding and receiving in return a deeper comprehension of the words she spoke: tenses inexpressible in human terms, a cultural context that didn't exist in English, lost in the mists of time.
Then, the Doctor answered, and though the words were in Gallifreyan, she could parse the unfamiliar words through their connection (and even if that weren't the case, his acceptance in the most unreserved degree was thunderous across all telepathic frequencies): I welcome you as my bondmate.
Bondmate. Rose tested the word, both in English and the Gallifreyan the Doctor had used, and felt the shiver go through the Doctor's mind. She looked up at him, unwilling to be distracted.
So, Doctor. How do we do this?
First, we need to completely take down our telepathic barriers. Good thing we're on a psi-null planet like Rheneia, the Doctor said. Rose knew there was nothing lucky about it - the TARDIS had known what she was doing. I know we've both already keyed each other in as safe but the bond is the ultimate bypass - because, essentially, our minds will become one.
Rose felt pleasure zip through her as she considered always being connected with the Doctor, but it was as nothing to the rapture emanating from the Doctor's side. Once they'd both opened their minds, the Doctor hesitated for the briefest moment, and Rose knew, even without telepathy, that his desire to give her one last chance to back out was warring with how much he needed the bond - and how much he believed in what she'd told him. Filled with affection for the daft man she was about to bond with, Rose gave him the gentlest of telepathic nudges and repeated the sentence he'd used earlier. I welcome you as my bondmate.
With their barriers lowered, she could feel the wave of urgency as it overtook the Doctor at her words: his need to be with her forever, his wonder that he should be receiving what he wanted most in the universe.
Oh yes, Rose, the Doctor said, even his telepathic voice faint under the weight of his emotions. Normally both parties would offer affirmations, but you've already done yours, and I… The press of emotion nearly choked out his words. Rose waited as he steadied himself.
Rose Tyler, he said again, you are the true light in my life. I held myself back for so long because I was afraid of losing that light… all I could see when I looked at you is how little time we had left. Now, to learn that we really do have forever… He shook his head. I can only imagine a future with you.
This time it was Rose's turn to be overwhelmed, but with a soft kiss, the Doctor reminded her that they still had something to finish. Buoyed by his love, her eagerness made it easy to focus.
Just follow my lead, Rose, the Doctor instructed, like this was just another lesson, only far, far more significant. He gradually began to wrap himself around her telepathic centre, strand by strand, and Rose made shift to do the same. Their connection made it easy to move in tandem, and soon they were coiled around each other in an intricate pattern.
Rose understood: they were making themselves a part of the other's mental core, like grafting a tree. Her awareness of the Doctor had deepened with every strand, but she didn't really feel any different, and she knew they weren't finished yet.
Exactly, Rose. The Doctor's voice was somehow clearer than before, as though she'd spent her whole life listening to mono and had suddenly discovered stereo. Now I want you to press into the core itself. There might be a bit of resistance, but don't worry - you'll know when to stop.
Rose did as she was told, sinking down into the ball of incandescent light. It was so beautiful that she almost didn't notice the tiny shift, like the snick of a key in a lock, before suddenly she was completely enveloped in the bubble of the Doctor's consciousness. At the same time, she could feel her own mind expand to contain the Doctor. All the centuries of life, the joy and the pain, all the voices she'd heard when she'd ventured too far that first time - all of that was now a part of her. And it didn't feel overwhelming, as she'd expected; she merely felt full, the way she would after a decent meal when she hadn't eaten for a while. It felt right.
That's exactly how it should feel, my Rose. And I'm a part of you. The awe and gratitude in his voice couldn't be mistaken for anything else. Rose waited, adjusting, watching as their joint telepathic shields were raised, twice as strong as either would have been separately, even added together. She felt completely safe, and strong, as she drifted in the warmth of the Doctor's love, floating gradually back down to earth.
In the real world, they lowered their hands from each other's temples, but like an afterimage, Rose could still feel herself ensconced within the golden centre of the Doctor's mind.
She looked at the Doctor as her mental landscape continued to shift and change, feeling just as awed. Encompassing the consciousness of a Time Lord was not something you did every day, and she was absolutely blown away by how his love for her permeated every fibre that made up the whole.
For a moment, Rose had a vision of a series of faces overlaying the Doctor's, stretching back into the past; by turns boyish and venerable, eccentric and stern, foppish and regal. Yet no matter how different they appeared in each face, the eyes proved that they belonged, absolutely, to the same man. Each were likewise contained within the Doctor's current face, even that of an impish youngster, whose sharp eyes twinkled out at her from behind the Doctor's. There was a second set of faces, even more nebulous, that Rose couldn't make out in any detail except for the eyes, that she thought might be future regenerations. She sucked in a breath, and knew that every face belonged to her.
My Doctor, she thought, the words drawn from her before she realised she'd spoken, her love deepening with each face she saw until she could hardly recognise the feeling as what she'd called love before.
Yes, Rose, the Doctor replied, pulling her as close to him mentally as she did physically. Yours.
Their lips pressed together without any conscious intention; it was a natural effect of how close their bodies and souls were entwined. The kiss started out reverently, as they grew accustomed to the interplay of emotions, but with the added telepathic element, it heated quickly.
The first time the Doctor had kissed her, they'd been out in public at a 1950s street party; the real kiss had been when they'd gotten back to the TARDIS and snogged against the console. Even without any telepathy at all, the kiss had been unlike anything Rose had ever experienced, the Doctor's scent, his taste, his cool lips, combining in some indescribable way, and Rose had been sure she'd never feel anything like it again.
Now, as the Doctor's lips worshipped hers, Rose thought she'd have to revisit her earlier assessment. She felt like a glass full of light, pouring into the Doctor; emptied, she could accept his intensity in return. She could feel it all: the turn of the planet, the exact speed of the ground moving beneath their feet, the motion of the stars and the ceaseless, ever-changing melody of Time itself.
There were fireworks streaking gloriously across the sky, but the bursts of vibrant stars were as nothing compared to the explosions of emotion between them.
I love you, Rose Tyler, the Doctor breathed fervently, his bliss and adoration an incandescent presence in their new bond. My bondmate, my beloved, my hearts. Forever. Rose could feel the weight of the words through time as the Doctor finally laid claim to them.
She gathered herself to respond but the Doctor stopped her with a thought. My Rose, I know you want to say it back. But before you do, I want to hear you say it this way. Just once. You already know my true name, the one I chose. It's the only one that matters, except this time. I want to tell you my name - my real name.
Rose couldn't help the way her heart quivered at the thought of being entrusted with the Doctor's biggest secret. She nodded, once. Please.
The Doctor steeled himself, and then he spoke a string of syllables. They imprinted themselves on her mind as he whispered them in her ear, and she could feel the ripple they made through time, the power in them resounding in her chest like one of the fireworks, even as she wept unabashedly at their beauty.
The Doctor kissed away her tears, and Rose smiled up at him. Speaking the words was effortless - it was like part of her had been waiting her whole life to repeat his name back to him, this once, and never again. "I love you."
He trembled, and then pulled her closer against him, placing hungry kisses across every inch of skin he could reach. When he captured her lips in a searing kiss, Rose let the words ring out telepathically instead. I love you, my Doctor.
The bond pulsed insistently in her head, and it was perfectly natural for her to reach for it, sending her pleasure back to him. The Doctor groaned as he let her surface for air, his eyes dark with desire.
Did the bonding ceremony happen to include... a wedding night? Rose asked, again choosing the ease of telepathic communication over trying to get her breath back.
If possible, his eyes darkened even further. It does now.
He reached for her hand. Rose was already slinging off her heels. The Doctor beamed down at her, and she discovered facets in his smile she'd never seen before.
"Run!" he said, and they did, dashing ecstatically across the manicured palace grounds, their giggles drowned out by the fireworks. They approached the TARDIS just as dawn was breaking over the shorter Rheneian night, and the ship hummed impatiently as they approached, missing her new couple.
Rose whooped as the Doctor swept her into a bridal carry and both the TARDIS doors burst open. Once they were inside, he pressed her against them, sending provocative images over the bond even as he lightly caressed her face.
"No fair," Rose moaned, barely able to think past the haze of passion, both hers and the Doctor's, and the Doctor chuckled.
"Indeed not," the Doctor replied, his lips now skimming the line of her throat to her shoulders. "You know, as fetching as this dress is on you, my love, I think it would look far nicer on -" he laved the hollow of her collarbone with his tongue and she shivered, arching into him - "that strut, over there." He indicated with a jerk of his head before resuming his attentions on the other side.
"Same for that suit," Rose sighed, already tugging at his tie. They wasted no more time in confirming their suspicions.
And so it was, that hardly a week after they'd almost lost each other, the Doctor and Rose began the first day of their forever the way they meant to go on - with not an inch of space left between them.