Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, which is to say I don't, the episode I'm trying to restructure here would have gone a bit like this…

A/N: Takes place during Human Nature. AU obviously. Well, to me at least…you'll see why soon.

So Human

He was conscious that he was dreaming, but everything felt so real, so vivid that he wondered if maybe his dreams hadn't come to life. He was in that same strange, mechanical blue box, the one that could fly. But he wasn't alone. His hand enveloped another's. He followed the ring clad hand to an arm, past a couple shiny bangles up to slender shoulders covered in bright yellow to a graceful bare neck and up to the only face more familiar than his own.

Her beautiful smile grew as he gazed into her dark honey eyes. He felt his body react in a way he wasn't familiar with. But the desire was quenched quickly by the need to have her closer. Not to satisfy that desire but to silence the fear that set his heart pounding.

It was as if…if he let her go, he might never see her again. His arm fit naturally around her waist. She let him pull her closer, nestled into his chest trustingly. They held each other, and the relief of having her closer was akin to that first breath you take when you break the surface of the water, having been below but a second too long.

She prayed the door wouldn't make a sound as she closed it behind her unbearably slow. Her heart pounded in her throat as she paused, leaning against the door, listening for evidence she'd been discovered. Nothing. She let a deep breath out. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, moonlit room, she could just begin to make out a sleeping form on the bed across the room. Light, uninterrupted snores reached her ears, familiar as the sound of her own breath whooshing through her ears.

She started forward slowly until she reached the edge of the bed. Softly as she could, she sat on the edge, freezing until his hitched breathing returned to normal. The moon light caught his face at the perfect angle. She could see every peaceful, familiar inch of it. Her hand was shaking as she moved it forward until it was hovering just above the dark brown fringe that lay above his forehead. Her fingers floated down until they rested against his skin, and she had to bite her lip to hold back a huge sigh of relief.

She caressed his face gently, willing him to both wake up and remain sleeping at the same time. She received her wish, at least partially, when he groaned and tilted his head into her touch. Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes. His eyelids fluttered open, and he gazed blearily up at her. It took a moment for him to focus on her face.

"Hullo," she murmured, the only word she was able to manage before her throat closed.

He opened his mouth to speak, then paused, then, "It can't be."

She smiled again. "I know." Her fingers twisted lovingly in his hair.

"This is a dream." But it was more of a question than a stated fact.

She tilted her head, tongue between her teeth in the usual manner. "Do you dream of me then?" A tear rolled slowly past her nose.

"All the time," he whispered.

His answer caught her by surprise, eliciting a gasp, widened eyes. Her frozen fingers soon started their caress across his face again. "Me too," she murmured.

"But," his hand found hers, covered it, stopping its dance across his face. "But you are a dream," he argued. Their fingers laced, and his eyes darkened. "I don't want to wake up."

She chuckled softly, cupping his face with her free hand, her fingers lingering over his lips. "Too late for that."

He frowned as his thumb rolled across the back of her hand. "What d'you mean?"

Her turn to frown. "Well, you're already awake. Honest, it's really me." Her voice was tender.

His thumb froze on her skin. "This…isn't a…dream?" He asked slowly.

She was grinning again. "If it is, then it's the best I've ever 'ad."

He paused, then sat up quickly, his hands scrambling to find his glasses.

She sat back in confusion. "What? Doctor, what is it?"

He finally managed to light the candle next to his bed. His eyes widened when her face remained real where it was instead of fading with his dreams as it usually did. He asked the only question that could make sense now. "Who are you?"

A/N: I know, first time cliffhanger and all, but that gives me the opportunity to turn this into a full fledged fic, which I've been wanting to do for awhile. I'm going to assume you realized the "he" was John Smith (technically) and the "she" was Rose. If I was presumptuous to assume so, I'd recommend you go get some sleep and come back later to re-read. Otherwise, feel quite free to review!