A/N The Doctor gives Rose a tour of their room...as only he can.

Chapter 30

Rose followed a few steps behind the Doctor as they left the console room and journeyed down the corridor towards their bedroom. Rose's heart began beating that little bit faster as she imagined times the two of them might have made this trek in the heat of passion, while the Doctor's hearts sped their rhythm remembering all the times they had. Sometimes they wouldn't quite make it all the way into the room before they could go no further, the doorway having to suffice.

The Doctor took in a steadying breath as he felt his body reacting to the fiery memories. They hadn't even made it to the bedroom yet! Just what had become of his control lately? He put all of his superior effort into taming his, as of late, irrepressible bodily response. It was a little unnerving. In the past he had been adept at repressing his desires, having never crossed that line with Rose to know the full extent of what he was fighting against. Once they had given themselves fully to each other, that was the end of ever having to hold back. That was the end of being able to hold back. Never had he been faced with knowing exactly what they were capable of together while not being able to act.

If this distance between them remained for much longer, his death was going to be a slow and painful one.

"Here we are, then," he spoke up, managing to at least sound in control as they slowed to a stop outside a room Rose both was and was not familiar with. It was the room she knew as the Doctor's but one she had never been in; or didn't remember having been in, at least. He opened the door for her and moved aside so she could pass through, wondering if she could hear his breath hitch in his throat as she lightly brushed against him in the process. Catching his breath remained elusive as he watched Rose step in. She was in their room again, and things seemed that one step closer to being as they should be. He couldn't hide the budding smile lighting his face as he watched her.

Rose moved a few feet inside, her roving eyes taking in the surroundings. "S'beautiful," she softly murmured in first reaction. It really was a beautiful room – so warm and inviting. Unlike her room, which almost mirrored her bedroom at her mum's flat with its copious amount of pink dominating the decor, this room looked more like a natural part of the TARDIS. The familiar coral structure carried in to here, twining about the walls and stretching to the lofty ceiling, though in a more slender, winding array, giving the room a soft, organic feel. To her left stood the bed. Her eyes moved from the rich, dark wood of the sizable curved headboard bearing the intricate carvings of Gallifreyan script, to the sumptuous, deep blue duvet draping the bed and nearly touching the floor on each side. Rose tried not to let her eyes linger too noticeably long on that bed, but it wasn't easy, as it drew her first attention.

She peeled her eyes away, scanning the rest of the space. Directly in front of her stood a large wardrobe of the same wood as the bed, its double doors displaying similar spiral etchings, with a smaller bureau beside it. A few feet down from that on the same wall and between two towering coral columns was another door, partially open and leading into the en-suite.

The far right of the room boasted a lofty bookcase, with a large desk and leather armchair arranged catty-cornered to its left.

The Doctor, still feeling rather giddy that she'd chosen to at least see this room, bound over to the wardrobe and opened the double doors, revealing it to her.

"Most of your clothes are in here," he said. "From jeans and jumpers to period gowns. Not quite as large as the wardrobe room, but still, an outfit for any occasion for nearly as far as the eye can see. Don't let the size fool you," his muffled voice echoed back as he stuck his head inside, "it's bigger on the inside!" He pulled back out, still grinning, then swiftly moved to the bureau and opened a few drawers, exhibiting their contents with his typical flair. "And here are your socks and bras and knickers..." He held up a bra in one hand and a pair of lacy knickers in the other. His manic grin slowly faded as he looked at the garments, then at Rose's rapidly-blushing face, then back at the underwear. He coughed. "Yes. Well. Everything else you need, right here. Quite handy, that. All in one place. Neatly organized. And sturdy." He toed the base with a trainer-clad foot. "Quite important to have durability for those extremely seldom but slightly less than superb landings. I always have respect for a well-crafted piece of furniture. Indeed, the bureau is a wonderful invention. Oooh, I'll have to take you to meet its original creator some time. Lovely chap! Bit boring, though. Still, they can't all be charming and charismatic, I suppose. Not everyone can be, well, me!"

The Doctor soon realized his nonsensical chatter was doing absolutely nothing to cover the awkwardness of the moment and was actually making it worse, considering he still held the bra and knickers, and his hands, which never seemed to be able to remain still when his gob ran free, were now waving the items animatedly through the air as he spoke.

Chucking the undergarments back in the drawer a little too late, he turned back to Rose.

"Um, thank you," she replied, and tried to keep her inflection from sounding like a question. Because really, should she thank him for such a thoroughly embarrassing display? At least this time she wasn't the only one blushing as she noticed a definite rosy hue highlighting his pale cheeks and the tips of his ears. He was actually quite adorable when he looked embarrassed, Rose decided.

Confining his traitorous hands to his pockets, the Doctor walked back over to her, wondering if she was now regretting even coming in here. He had wanted to make her feel comfortable here. After Rose's absence from the TARDIS, his desire was strong to have her back in this room, sleeping again in his bed, even if he wasn't sharing it with her yet.

He swallowed down disappointment, prepared that she would decide against sleeping in here. He cast a brief glance over at the bed before settling his eyes back on her. "So...you think you could be comfortable in here?" he asked tentatively. "You don't have to stay in here...if you'd rather just take some of your things and go to your old room."

Rose chewed her lip as she turned her head and swept her gaze once more around the room, finally settling on the enticing, welcoming bed, not hiding that it had her attention despite what it signified between them. Maybe it should feel awkward to think of sleeping in here, but she found it didn't. Then again, maybe it was right for her to feel that way. The truth was, Rose didn't know what she should feel; she only knew that she wanted to stay. Being here just felt right. Soothing. Much like the Doctor's presence with her.

Rose released her bottom lip from between her teeth. "I...I think I'd like to stay." She felt equal parts relieved and nervous at the declaration.

The Doctor, however, felt 100% relief. It showed instantly in his eyes as a little of the weight lifted. "Good. Good, that's...I'm glad you feel comfortable here. That's what I want, Rose. In all of this. I want you to be comfortable with it."

Rose smiled almost shyly, her eyes falling to study the tops of her shoes before lifting to meet his once more. The Doctor's hand came up to tug at his ear as he cleared his throat. "Well, I'll just...be out here." He turned a little, twisting at the waist and pointing back out the door.

Rose once again felt her emotions in conflict. She wasn't sure if she was ready to share a bed with him yet, even just for sleeping, but she also didn't want to run him out of his own room. "You don't have to go," she said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. "I mean, this is your room, and–"

"It's your room, too," he gently broke in. The Doctor could sense her hesitation, despite her offer. The last thing he wanted to do was push her into an uncomfortable situation – more uncomfortable than what she was already feeling in all this. She'd had plenty of that for one day. The Doctor continued. "Besides, don't need much sleep, me. You do, though; and you really need to get some rest. And I need to go back to the infirmary and finish analyzing those scans. There are still a few more things I'd like to examine with them."

Rose gave him a genuine, grateful smile, hoping he knew just how much everything he had done, and was continuing to do for her really meant. Not only was he dedicating so much attention to her health and well-being, but he was being so gentle with her, so patient. None of this could be easy for him, either. Though her mind was still a whirlwind trying to process this life that was now hers, her thoughts were beginning to clear enough to see just why she loved him, leather or pinstripes. "Thank you. For...well, everything."

The Doctor smiled softly, sighing her name inwardly. Didn't she know he would conquer the world for her? Anything he might have done up till now held no comparison to things he was willing to do for her. He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and moved it towards her, ghosting the tips of his fingers down her cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of her lips, following the path with his eyes as her lids fluttered and her breath caught, before gathering enough resolve to withdraw his hand and step back.

He turned and moved towards the door, but then stopped in the doorway and turned back to her. "I won't be far, Rose. If you need me for anything, or just don't want to be alone, call out for me and I'll come sleep with you."

Rose muffled a surprised squeak in her throat but couldn't hide the widening of her eyes.

The Doctor's eyebrows shot up as he realized how that sounded. "To sleep, that is. I didn't mean anything more. That's not to say I don't want more. You have no idea how much I want more, and...oh, that came out wrong...or...right. But what I meant was, even when we weren't, well...," he gestured vaguely between them, "you know...doing more, you still often wanted me to just stay with you while you slept. Which is what I meant."

Rose nodded quickly. "I...I think I'll be fine. But if I do need– Well...thank you."

Deciding he'd already said and done quite enough for one evening, the Doctor finally turned and left the room, giving her some space to begin adjusting.

Rose turned away from the door and took a few steps around, familiarizing herself a little more with the room. She moved towards the desk situated on the right side of the room across from the bed. Rose came closer, running her fingers over the smooth, dark wood. On it was stacked several large books, Gallifreyan symbols etched into the deep red cover of the one on top. Below it was one in English. Rose read the spine and saw it was a book on pregnancy. She smiled softly. His every thought was on her and the baby. She could picture him spending long nights here pouring over his reading these past weeks in between the times he would come visit her at her mum's flat.

Scattered about the desk were notes the Doctor had scrawled in that familiar, circular script. She glanced closer at one of the notes, tracing a finger over the beautiful, mysterious symbols. Would their baby learn this language? A feeling of immense responsibility settled upon her. This child was the offspring of the last of the Doctor's kind. Though mingled with human genetics, this was essentially the continuation of a race all but extinct, while at the same time something completely new. Dwelling on that fact only added to the vastness of it all in her mind.

Breathing in deeply, Rose moved on. She walked a little further and peered into the spacious en-suite. The warm tones of the floor and walls, a type of smooth stone, were the same color as the TARDIS coral. Beside the glass-encased shower was a sizable, deep round tub. Rose felt her body temperature momentarily rise as she thought of it accommodating two.

Completing her circuit through the room, Rose then made her way to the bureau the Doctor had so helpfully shown her and opened a few drawers, looking for some pajamas to put on and settling on a pale pink cotton nightshirt that came about mid-thigh. Curiously inspecting the other drawers, Rose found the third one from the top to have a few garments intended to be worn to bed, but most definitely not for sleeping. She felt a rush of heat to her face as she lifted what was little more than a scrap of sheer black lace. Her pulse quickened as the Doctor's earlier words echoed back, low and smooth:

"Our relationship is quite...physical."

Well, at least he had stopped short of pulling this little number out and waving it around the room like a flag. Rose tucked it back in the drawer and went about getting undressed, changing into the nightshirt.

Rose was starting to wish she'd found something to wear in heavy flannel as she rubbed her hands up and down her chilly arms. She couldn't wait to snuggle up under the warm covers. She paused at the edge of the bed before climbing in. It was then the thought fully struck her. She was getting in the Doctor's bed. It was now hers, too. A feeling of intense longing found its way into her heart and settled heavily there. She desperately wanted to remember this life; a life she never could have imagined would be hers.

She peeled back the deep blue duvet and slipped beneath, drawing the covers up just below her chin as her tired body sank into the plush mattress. As her eyes drifted shut, she hoped the dreams that would fill her sleep would be of the memories that were still clouded, hidden somewhere within the deep recesses of her mind.

-:-:-:-

After finishing his exhaustive analysis of the numerous scans and tests he'd run on Rose, the Doctor went back to their room and slipped quietly in to check on her. The soft glow from the corridor fell across the room through the open door. The Doctor could see the sleeping form of Rose, lying on her side in the bed. He silently pulled out the sonic and switched it on, checking her temperature. It had only dropped 0.9°C and was holding steady, but still, the human temperature was maintained within such narrow margins and anything between just a 1-2°C drop would mean the beginnings of hypothermia. He came fully into the room and padded softly to the low chest at the foot of the bed, taking out an extra blanket. He then moved to the side of the bed and gently spread the blanket over Rose, giving her a little extra warmth.

He lingered over her, gazing down at his Rose, so deep in sleep. She was no doubt exhausted after such a day. He couldn't stop himself from placing a whisper-soft touch to her cheek with tips of his fingers, fighting the instinctual urge to move to her temple, slipping into her dreams, connecting his mind with hers again. Beneath his fingers he could almost feel her life force – the blood coursing steadily through her body, from her lungs, to her heart, through the systemic circuit of her body and back to her heart again – so vibrant, thriving and very, very fragile. It was in quiet, reflective moments like this when a feeling of panic would begin to rise within him. What would he ever do without her?

Rose was the reason he was sane. She had taken the broken, battered soldier he had been – a man who took her to watch her own planet burn on their first trip, showing her the harsh reality that everything ended, while she in turn showed him that life endured and gave him a reason to continue on – and she had changed him. Little by little she had broken through the walls he had built around his fragmented hearts, using the most powerful yet gentle force in existence: love. She had dissolved his defenses, seen the things within him he didn't even want to see himself, yet she didn't run from it. She healed his brokenness and taught him it was safe to love again. The risk was great, but the reward was greater. What they now shared, however long it lasted, would be with him always.

The Doctor wanted to do for Rose what she had done for him. He wanted to show her it was safe to love. He needed her desperately – body, mind and soul. The loss of their mental connection felt like the loss of a limb. He had almost forgotten the depth of the haunting emptiness that had taken residence in his mind before Rose had filled that place within him with her consuming love. He wanted, needed their bond fully re-established. And though her mind had now recovered enough for that joining and he was now aware to put certain barriers in place around the baby's link so that what happened before would not happen again, it was now a matter of Rose being ready to accept it. His body ached for her. He longed to take her in his arms and show her his love – not to fulfill the most primitive of desires, but the most superlative. Yet this wasn't about his needs. His focus was on Rose.

An idea began to take shape in the Doctor's mind and he then knew exactly what he wanted to do for her. Lowering to brush his lips across the crown of her head, he then eased back and smiled down at her softly. Tomorrow was going to be a very good day.