Only they could find trouble in the city dubbed one of the friendliest in the world. The Doctor, much to his utter delight, had discovered Glasgow had such a thing as a 'Science Centre', and had decided a fun day trip would be to take the subway (known here somewhat strangely as the clockwork orange) to the building shaped like a quartered watermelon and spend the afternoon traipsing around the seemingly endless exhibits.
Rose had huffed and dragged her feet: much as she now enjoyed science and technology, she had rather hoped for a more romantic cruise down the Seine followed by gourmet cuisine for the Doctor's invented birthday. Although he had started out by genuinely admiring the majority of their displays, the Doctor had eventually found something that rattled his cage immensely… And he had not been shy about voicing his annoyance. It seemed that aggressive Glaswegian security guards did not take kindly to thin, bespectacled men telling all of their visitors (including a class of thirty primary school children) that no, humans could not fly earlier in the chain of evolution and nor would they bloody well ever do so, and what idiotic scientist had concocted such a ridiculous and misleading piece of propaganda? However, it was when he had leapt over the rope separating the display from the crowd and started ripping it down with his bare hands that the situation had gotten really ugly.
And then, of course, they were running.
Always bloody running! It was funny, though, tearing along the broad corridor while the rotund guards chased after them, brandishing truncheons and yelling for them to stop. As if they were going to listen to that request? It was just like old times as they flew out of the doors and streaked off to the bridge across the river, their hands clasped tightly together and their footfalls entirely in sync.
At the other side they stopped and collapsed onto a grassy bank, their chests heaving with exertion. They laughed out loud now; Rose collapsing heavily into the Doctor's waiting arms.
"I literally cannot take you anywhere!" she panted with her signature grin, slapping him gently on the shoulder. He chuckled quietly.
"As if you'd have me any other way!"
"Maybe a bit more tactful, that'd be nice sometimes."
"You know me, Rose Tyler. Rude. Rude and not ginger."
A thought struck him then, and he pulled away slightly so she could see the magnificent shining grin on his face.
"What're you looking so happy about?"
"I've got enough Donna in me to be classed as an honorary ginger, don't you think? Finally! Thank you, earth girl! Doubly rude and almost ginger. Good enough for me!" he laughed, his accent slipping from Glasgow into Cockney for a moment. Rose frowned.
"I'll say you're doubly rude, anyway! But don't use that accent, I'm the feral child from old London town, remember? You stick to your sexy Scottish lilt and we'll all be happy."
The Doctor's grin following her words was, appropriately, wolfish.
"You think the accent's sexy, then?" he smirked, tilting his chin downwards and cocking an eyebrow at her. Even after all this time, Rose blushed to the colour of her name under his heated gaze.
"Well… Yeah. When you used it the first time it took quite a lot to keep my hands off you. Fuelled my fantasies for ages, it did. Think that was the first time you didn't wear a tie, too. First time I'd noticed, anyway. I could see so much of your neck – you were practically naked, s'far as I was concerned."
She groaned quietly in the back of her throat, letting her head loll backwards and her eyes drift closed. The Doctor listened in amusement as she continued, apparently to herself.
"Then when we went to London 2012 and you had that top on again but unbuttoned even further and uh my God I was dying to jump you! I nearly died when you were eatin' that marmalade with your fingers. Then you had those glasses on again… Surprised I managed to wait 'til we were back on the TARDIS before doing something about it. It was so frustrating, living with you: I think I went through more packets of batteries in a month than I usually did in six. Your own hand gets bloody boring after a while, even if I did imagine it was yours."
The heat beginning to coil in his stomach and lower was extremely inappropriate for the very public setting, and the Doctor thought hurriedly of the stupidity of string theory and the interdependence of finite particles to calm himself down. Rose let her eyes flutter open, biting her lip.
"Sorry. Got a bit carried away," she managed, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, wishing they were somewhere more private and didn't have to show restraint.
"It's alright," he squeaked, his voice high pitched and tense with repressed arousal. "I like hearing… Well, what I mean to say is…"
Rose laughed and shook her head, planting a frustratingly chaste kiss on his lips.
"It's not a problem now, though. Got you to shag whenever I want!" she grinned, ignoring the way his brows raised at her profanity. He spluttered, raising his voice in indignation.
"You make me sound like some sort of… I dunno, some sort of sex slave!"
A passing cyclist caught wind of his words and swerved, barely avoiding a painful collision with a tree. He carried on with a backwards glare at the couple sprawled on the grass. They ignored his mishap, too absorbed in their conversation to notice.
"Well, who says you're not?" Rose grinned, tracing the long column of his neck with her fingernail.
"I should hope that I mean a bit more to you than that! We're meant to be forever, remember?" His mood once again changed, sliding from mock offence into pensiveness – the wrinkle on his forehead deepened with his frown. Rose knew this look – something was brewing in that mind of his, but she was too content in the moment to distract him.
It was several minutes before he spoke again, and in that time they had moved positions to be more comfortable. His back leaned comfortably against a tree (the one the cyclist had almost felled, incidentally) and Rose settled back between his legs, her head resting in the curve where his neck met his shoulder. The chill air made her nestle ever deeper into his embrace, enjoying the peaceful thud of his heart against her spine.
"We could do it, you know," the Doctor mused, his voice low and rich. "If you wanted. Whatever forever we have. It's obviously not forever forever, but… Our forever."
Rose turned her face awkwardly to try and see him. "What are you on about? We're going to spend forever together. Our forever, as you put it. We already agreed to that; there's no question."
Against her cheek his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily, his next words slow and weighted.
"On a more… official basis, let's say."
A silence had never been louder. Rose stared at the river before them, her mind whirring in an attempt to compute what she was certain lurked beneath those words. She heard the Doctor lick his lips and felt his pulse quicken, the touch of his hands on hers enough to telepathically convey the feeling of apprehension that had flared within him. This hadn't been premeditated, after all. He, just as she had, assumed that their forever was non-negotiable and that they would continue on as they were until the end of their days. It seemed, however, that his gob had other plans and had uttered a sort of proposal without the permission of his brain.
As a pair they had such a history of skating over the details of their relationship that might prove uncomfortable, and so both teetered on the point of a knife as they took in the meaning of his words. She was worried he would change the subject or bolt, either metaphorically or literally. He was worried she'd be spooked and rebuff him, seeing as she'd always been so independent and free-spirited. Neither of them had ever professed to be the marrying kind, and yet…
Rose bit back a smile, not turning to face him. "I suppose we could, yeah," was all she said, sliding her fingers through the gaps of his and squeezing his hand. His breath caught.
"What?"
"I said I suppose we could. Make it official, like."
"What?"
"Mum would like it."
"Wh-?"
She stopped his third repetition by turning in his arms and pressing her lips to his, her kiss blistering. When she pulled away, he grinned impishly, teasing her.
"What?"
"I just accepted your proposal. You're supposed to give me a ring or something, I think. Pretty sure that's how it goes."
"To be fair, I didn't really mean to propose. It just sort of slipped out."
She tilted her head, passing her tongue over her teeth dangerously. "Is that you saying you don't wanna marry me after all?" To her delight, the Doctor looked stricken.
"Of course not! Rose Tyler, I would love to marry you. Didn't know that until now, but why on earth not? I'm human now, so might as well observe the customs. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they-"
She kissed him again, just to shut him up.
They ended up eating chips in a wonderfully greasy café back in the town centre, not bothering to hide their glee as many umbrella-less people outside got caught in a torrential downpour of rain. He continued to talk in the Scottish accent just to please her, even though it grated on his nerves after a while. When he asked her what galaxy she wanted an engagement ring from, he was most surprised with her reply.
"We'll get one while we're here," she replied simply, her hand darting to the plate to capture the last tiny crispy chip they both coveted.
"But I could get you literally anything. Star diamonds from Kalamazoo – they glitter like the constellations, really rare, they are. A stone of ethereal beauty – real name, by the way – from Linux Six. Anything."
"And I want a normal, human engagement ring from a normal, human shop. You can choose it, if you want. I just want to get it here, because then I'll always have a part of the place that made you let your gob run on and propose in the first place."
"Very romantic, Rose."
"Yeah, it is."
The Doctor eventually settled on a ring – white gold with a crystal clear diamond circled by small sapphires. Rose beamed at him when he pointed it out, trying not to let the giddiness she felt show on her face.
"It looks like a star in the sky," she said quietly, clutching her hands to her chest. She'd never been one for fuss and frills and jewels, and since the beginning of her relationship with the Doctor had never envisioned herself marrying. This one exception, however, was one she would be glad to make... Even if the ring did have to stay in the TARDIS most of the time while they ran around alien worlds. He looked down at her and smiled tenderly, surprised that they had settled into the idea so abruptly. Not six months ago this eventuality would have seemed downright impossible. Now, it seemed downright brilliant.
They returned to the TARDIS hand in hand, swathed in new tartan scarves. They had to chase a gang of youths away before they started battering down the door, hollering for the person inside to open up so they could have a cup of coffee. They promised each other they'd return to this city at some point in the future.
They sat side by side on the jumpseat, watching the time rotor as was their custom. Rose's face had fallen when he'd said rings weren't a normal Gallifreyan custom – marriages were normally just a piece of paper, most often arranged for convenience and social or political advancement.
"You mean you didn't love your wife? Back on Gallifrey, I mean?" she questioned shyly – his distant past was still something they didn't discuss. The Doctor shrugged, fiddling absently with a button on his new suit jacket.
"Don't get me wrong, I liked her. She was funny – as Time Lords go, at least. She was from a different house and seemed pretty pleased with the match… What you've got to understand about Gallifrey, though, is that not every Gallifreyan was a Time Lord, and to some that made a big difference." He sighed and leaned back, kicking his long legs up onto the console and crossing his arms before continuing. "The subject of reproduction was a real point of contention for many – the few rebels who married for love were the ones who still reproduced naturally. Sexually, I mean. The rest of the planet did so through looming – most parents chose for their children to be loomed into babies, but a few chose simply to loom fully grown adults. Don't know why, myself. Anyway! I wanted to reproduce naturally: it seemed to me that it would be better, somehow. But she was disgusted with the idea – we were both Time Lords, and Time Lords didn't do that, they loomed because they were above such carnality. It was about keeping the species thriving, not familial love or the desire to be a parent."
The Doctor was quiet for several moments, apparently lost in his memories. Rose didn't interrupt, too astonished that he was actually opening up enough to disclose these facts to her in the first place. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he took a deep breath before filling the room once more with his voice.
"I'd always wanted to be a dad. Not a father like mine who would happily see his child whisked off to the Academy when they were eight – if they were considered good enough, anyway. No, I wouldn't have let them take them, if the war hadn't happened and they'd… They'd managed to reach eight. But she won, so we loomed. Two of them. Four and six when the war…"
"I'm sorry," Rose murmured, struggling to swallow the tears that welled in her eyes just hearing his haunted tone. His head turned and he smiled softly down at her, the pain far less evident in his eyes than it had been when they met.
"Don't be. The point in I'm here now, and I have you. I love you, and I want to marry you. Properly."