The Doctor was under no illusions as to why Rose had just run away from him. Despite the reverent tone of their wedding the night before, and the sweet kiss that morning, she expected him to perform his usual emotional back pedalling—and after two years and eleven weddings, he knew he had only himself to blame for that.

He needed to do something that would prove he wanted to move their relationship forward, but planning grand romantic gestures wasn't exactly something he had a lot of experience with. He paced the console room, tugging at his hair as he wracked his brain for the perfect thing.

"Think!" he commanded himself. "Think, think, think, think!" He smacked the side of his head when nothing came to mind, trying to get his brain to work.

The TARDIS laughed at him, and the Doctor rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, that's helpful," he told her. "Don't suggest anything, just laugh at my pain. This is all your doing, you know—don't think I haven't figured out why you suddenly needed me to replace that part and suggested we go to Rhaetia." She laughed again, then faded away.

His stomach growled, and he reached into his coat pocket for a banana. Instead, his fingers brushed against cool metal, and he pulled out the laurium bracelet from Fasway.

He stared at the bracelet for a moment, an idea growing in the back of his mind. Rose knew he'd kept all the tokens they'd exchanged at their weddings, but did she understand why? He hurried to his room for the supplies he needed, and got to work.

It took no time at all to create his surprise, a fact which highlighted how ridiculous he'd been to wait so long. Once it was ready, he picked up the stack of cards and went to Rose's room.

The Doctor listened carefully at the door, making sure she was still in the shower before he turned the knob as silently as possible. It didn't escape his notice that her shower was going longer than it usually did, and the realisation that she was avoiding him heightened his guilt.

Hopefully, if everything goes right, this will be over soon, he reminded himself. He crept over to her vanity and left the first part of his surprise where she couldn't miss it, then exited her room before he could get caught.

Setting up everything else took another fifteen minutes, and when it was done, the Doctor went to the library to wait.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Rose stayed under the hot shower for as long as she could, but when her fingers pruned up, she sighed and turned the water off. No sense in putting off the inevitable, she thought as she dried off and wrapped a fluffy bathrobe around herself.

She pushed open the door to her bedroom and pulled her favourite jeans and t-shirt on over her best set of matching bra and knickers. If she was going to be rejected—again—she'd at least feel good about how she looked.

After getting dressed, Rose loosened the damp towel holding her hair up and sat at her vanity. She was reaching for her mascara when she saw it—the bonding bracelet from their first wedding. Propped up behind it was a card that said, I took your hand and said just one word—run.

Rose's fingers shook a little as she stared first at the bracelet, then at the card. What are you up to, Doctor? Whatever he was doing, so far this didn't feel like a rejection, and suddenly, she was in a hurry to find out. She only put on the bare minimum of makeup, then put the bracelet on her left wrist, picked up the card, and left the room.

Another surprise was waiting for her in the hall. Her necklace from Jablarth hung on a convenient hook (the TARDIS hummed smugly at that thought), and taped beside it was another card.

I told you how alone I am, and you slipped your hand into mine and said, "There's me."

Rose undid the clasp on the necklace and put it on. That's two out of ten. Where are the rest? She glanced at the card again and found a small note at the bottom: Galley.

On her way to the galley, Rose put the two cards in her back pocket. If this continued the way it seemed like it was going, she would need her hands free. The next card was on the kitchen table, next to the delicate chain belt that had been wrapped about both their waists during their wedding on Swides.

Even surrounded by ghosts and almost certain we were going to die, I was still so glad I'd met you.

Rose touched the card to her lips when she remembered the honest smile he'd given her when he'd said those words. Knowing what she knew now, she realised that week between meeting her and being trapped in a cellar in Cardiff was probably the happiest he'd been in several years.

The card directed her to the console room, and the sash from their fourth wedding was draped over the dematerialisation lever. Nervous excitement bubbled up in her, and Rose jogged down the ramp and snatched the card up.

When I realised saving the world might mean losing you, and I didn't know if I could do it.

Rose traced her finger over the words. That had been a moment. Some people might have relished the power they had over someone so important, but Rose had only felt very humbled. That was the day she learned that sometimes, the Doctor needed help making the hard decisions, and he took people with him who were strong enough to do it.

She put the card in her pocket and went to the next destination, the garden. The artificial sun was shining when she pushed open the door, and Rose breathed deep of the rich, earthy scented air. Then she looked around, wondering where in the garden. She thought for a moment, then smiled and took the path to her left.

A small wooden table stood in front of the bed of arkytior. The Doctor had told her this was the Gallifreyan variety of rose, and what better place to find a symbol of their relationship than someplace that represented them both?

A white card lay on the table under a gold arm band. Rose shoved the band up over the elbow of her right arm, then picked the card up.

When you reminded me that the world doesn't end if the Doctor dances.

She laughed at the memory of being trapped in a hospital in World War II London with a Doctor who was finally admitting—obliquely of course—that he was sexually attracted to her. That wasn't something she'd soon forget.

Down the hall in the media room, she found the matching pins with the chain that connected them sitting on the television stand, and the card propped up against the TV.

When you created yourself to save me.

A shiver ran down Rose's spine. Memories of the Game Station had trickled slowly into her dreams, and finally, after Rome but before Sarah Jane, she'd made him tell her the truth. The revelation that she had, for a brief moment, been a goddess of Time shook her, but the fact that she'd used that power for the single purpose of saving her Doctor felt natural and right.

Rose raised an eyebrow when she read where she was supposed to go next. The Doctor rarely welcomed company into his work room… but maybe the point of this stop was to show her that he wanted to let her into parts of his life he'd previously kept from her. The anklet from Smoldurlia was on his work table, and she sat down to put it on before picking up the card.

When you agreed to come with me a second time.

Warmth rushed through Rose at that memory. She'd been so afraid this new Doctor wouldn't want her anymore, and even though she'd only known him for a few hours, she'd already known she wanted to stay with him. He'd been so nervous and earnest when he'd asked her if she wanted to come with him, and the smile he'd given her when she said yes was probably the moment she'd fallen in love with this him.

Chlorine hit her nose when Rose walked into the pool room. A gold coronet with a floral motif rested on a lounge chair, along with the familiar white card. She debated the coronet for a moment, but in a flash of whimsy, decided to put it on, letting it rest lightly on her head. It might not go with the faded jeans and a t-shirt, but it was fun to wear.

When we laid down on the applegrass and I was finally sure you knew I was still me.

Rose smiled and kissed the card, then hurried to the wardrobe room. There were only two wedding tokens left, and she was anxious to finish the scavenger hunt and get to the Doctor.

A stack of bangles sat on a bureau just inside the door. Rose ignored them—she was already wearing too much jewellery—and went straight for the card.

When I spent months in Renaissance Italy, sculpting your statue from memory.

Rose blushed when she remembered the teasing way he'd told her the statue was sculpted by someone who knew her pretty well, and the tenderness in his voice when he'd said, "I was inspired." He'd kissed her on that same trip, and it was one of the moments she'd clung to when she wondered if he loved her or not.

The card instructed her to go to the library, and Rose practically ran down the stairs and through the halls. The Doctor's collar was hanging from the handle, and she bit back a giggle when she saw it. She pulled the card off the door impatiently.

When I trapped myself in Eighteenth century France, and I thought it would be decades before I saw you again.

Rose swallowed back the lump in her throat. He'd come to her the next day and apologised for leaving without giving any clue as to how (or if) he would return. Then he'd explained his plan to wait until another version of himself landed within travelling distance, and hitch a ride back to her. It had take a few go arounds for her to both understand and believe him, but this card did one better. This meant he'd been as distraught at the thought of years without her as she had been at the thought of years without him. Somehow, that soothed the tiny bit of hurt that remained.

She looked at the card again. Open the door, it said, so she did.

o0o0o0o0o0o

When the Doctor heard Rose's footsteps outside the library door, he quickly positioned himself in front of the fireplace, with his hands in his pockets. He waited impatiently for her to read the last card, and tried not to wonder if she understood what he was saying, or if it would make a difference.

His first sight of Rose took his breath away. The snug jeans and soft cotton t-shirt hugged her curves perfectly, but it was her accessories that commanded his attention. From the gold coronet resting atop blonde hair that framed her face in gentle waves to the anklet he could see beneath the cuff of her jeans, she was she was decked out head to toe in emblems of their relationship.

She held a stack of white cards in her right hand, and his collar in her left. "I don't think this would suit me," she teased, laughing when he flushed. She tossed it down onto the coffee table and held up the cards. "What are these, Doctor?"

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Didn't you read them?"

Rose sighed. "Of course I did. How else would I have found all of this?"

Her shoulders drooped a little, and he knew that if he wanted to convince her, he would need to be completely transparent. He swallowed hard and nodded at the cards.

"Those are all the times… well some of the times… the most notable times…" Rose's left eyebrow had risen high enough to give his own a run for its money. The Doctor shook his head. "Sit with me?" he asked, pointing at the sofa.

They sat down side by side, each turned slightly so they could face each other, and he took a deep breath. She looked at him expectantly and he felt a twinge of resentment that he had to do all the work, but he immediately reprimanded himself. Rose had been far more open about her feelings and what she wanted; it was his turn.

She looked at him now, wearing multiple indicators of their relationship and holding a list of some of the most important moments between them. Despite those two things, which should have been reassurance aplenty, she bit down on her lower lip and her brows drew together.

The Doctor pushed a strand of hair back over her ear. "I know I've been an idiot and a coward, Rose, but I'm finally ready to quit pretending."

Rose tugged at the hem of her shirt. "Even though you'll lose me one day?" she asked without looking at him.

He winced. "I won't tell you the thought doesn't hurt," he said, "but I will say it hurts less than the thought of never being with you."

She looked up at him, her head cocked. "And you won't change your mind?" she asked. "Because once we… if we're together, it has to be forever. I can stay your friend if you aren't ready for that, but I can't go back and forth."

That vulnerability, and the awareness that he had put it there, finally gave the Doctor the courage to say the words. "I won't change my mind, Rose. The ten moments on those cards are all moments when I realised I was falling in love with you, or that I loved you… and I'm not running from that anymore."

Rose gasped and grabbed his hand. "I have loved you for so long, but I thought…"

The Doctor sighed. "I know. I thought it would be better if we stayed as just friends." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

She nodded slowly. "What changed your mind?"

A fluttery sensation grew in the Doctor's chest. "I couldn't pretend last night. I think you could tell, couldn't you?"

"I thought maybe, but then today, I wasn't sure."

"That ceremony was too much like the ones on Gallifrey for me to give my pledge without a true commitment behind it. And the look in your eyes…" She smiled softly, all her doubts vanquished. "That's the one."

Rose's smile turned mischievous, the tip of her tongue peeking out of her mouth. "I have to admit, I wondered what was going on in your head when the magistrate told me you had all of our wedding tokens tucked away in your pockets."

He shrugged. "I couldn't just hide them away somewhere. I might not have been able to tell you that I wanted to be married to you, but those bracelets and necklaces and everything else reminded me that we were married, whether we ever did anything about it or not."

"You're daft," she chided him. "You didn't need a reminder to carry around in your pocket—I was always right here."

Rose was always right there, loving him, wanting to make those fake weddings real… and she was still there. She'd said that if they moved their relationship forward, it needed to be forever, and suddenly, the Doctor wanted to give her that promise in the way that was most meaningful to both their cultures.

"Marry me, Rose?" he blurted out, almost before he was conscious of the thought.

Tears filled her eyes. "Have done eleven times now."

The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out the red satin ribbon from their hand-fasting. "Just once more, when we both know we mean it."

Rose's hand shook when she reached for the other end of the ribbon. "How will we bind our hands when we both only have one free?"

The Doctor's hearts pounded at her implicit acceptance. He pulled her to her feet, and when they were standing, he rotated his wrist so the ribbon wrapped around his hand once. Rose mimicked the action, and soon their hands were clasped with the ribbon woven between them.

He hesitated for a moment, thinking about the traditional Gallifreyan wedding. There was one more thing…

"What is it, Doctor?"

"I have one more question, Rose. You can say no if you want—it isn't a requirement." She rubbed her thumb over his, and he calmed down a little. "You know I'm telepathic, right?" Rose nodded. "Well, telepaths often form a mental bond when they marry. I wouldn't be able to read your mind, but we would know what the other was feeling, and… maybe… depending on your potential… communicate telepathically."

"You'd be in my head?"

"Only if you want!" he said quickly. "Like I said, I don't need it, I just…"

Rose put her hand over his mouth. "I love the idea," she said. "You'd always be with me."

He stared into her shining eyes. He honestly hadn't expected her to agree, but some hidden compulsion had driven him to ask anyway. "Yeah?" he whispered breathlessly.

"Yeah." She squeezed his hand. "Now, weren't we in the middle of something?"

The Doctor's time senses whirled with the rapid changes happening to his own timeline, and he had to blink a few times to see the present clearly. Rose smiled up at him, and his chest swelled when he realised he had put that radiant happiness in her eyes.

He shut out his awareness of the future and focused on the hear and now. "Rose Tyler, do you consent to take me as your husband, to bind your timeline to mine until one shall run out?"

Rose blinked back tears. "I consent. And do you, Doctor, consent to be my husband, to… bind your timeline to mine until one shall run out?"

"I consent," he replied, his voice cracking. Then he let go of her hand and freed himself from the ribbon. "I need both hands for the next bit," he told her, and she nodded.

The Doctor raised his hands, then looked Rose in the eye once more. "You're sure? Because this is permanent."

"Please, Doctor. I want everything you're willing to give."

He drew in a breath, then rested his fingers in the soft hair above her temples. "You'll feel me at the edge of your mind," he said. "Imagine yourself inviting me in—"

His sentence ended abruptly when he almost fell into the warm gold of Rose's mind. The beauty and intimacy of it made his hands shake, and she rubbed soothing circles over the backs of them with her fingers.

Now, he told her telepathically, I'm going to tell you my name—my real name. That will bind us together. He leaned forward and whispered the almost forgotten syllables in her ear, and they both sucked in a breath as their new bond found a place in each of their minds.

Rose looked at him with a shy smile. "Is this the part where I say, 'You may now kiss the bride?'"

The Doctor laughed. "I think that's an excellent idea." He caressed her face, loving the way she leaned into his touch. Then he pulled her close with a hand on her waist and slowly leaned toward her. Rose tilted her head back, and he brushed his nose against hers before finally kissing her softly. Her lips parted on a sigh, and he sucked the bottom one into his mouth, running his tongue over it, then nipping lightly.

A frisson of excitement passed over their fledgling bond, and the Doctor released her lip and adjusted the angle so he could kiss her more deeply. This time, his tongue begged entrance to her mouth, which she willingly gave. The hand that had been clutching at the lapel of his jacket relaxed and moved up over his shoulder to the nape of his neck.

The Doctor groaned when her hand sank into his hair. He suddenly wanted to feel her hands everywhere, to undress her slowly, tasting her skin as he went, to give in to the desire he'd denied for two years and make love to Rose Tyler… to his wife.

But not here, he told himself. He gentled the kiss and then pulled back, resting his forehead against Rose's, just enjoying the intimacy of breathing in the same air as she was.

She tipped her head back to catch his lips again, and frowned up at him when he took a step back instead. "What's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing." He swept her up in his arms, delighting in her shriek of laughter. "I was just thinking, we might have gotten married at home—"

"This time," Rose interjected as he walked out of the library.

"This time," he agreed. "I can't really carry you across the threshold, but I can still carry you to our room." He loved the way "our room" sounded, and judging by the way Rose shivered in his arms when he said it, she did as well. "I think that after twelve weddings, it's finally time we had a wedding night."