Disclaimer: I don't own DW (if I did, Rose would never have left, and River would never have existed.)

Posted 14-10-2023

Chapter One

Finally Found

The Doctor was bored. Liz had recently left him to return to Cambridge after the mess with the Waro, and the Brigadier had yet to organize a new assistant for him.

Being without distractions and in exile was a terrible fate. It made him think, and thinking left him feeling trapped, and helpless. And that was even worse for him.

He could never stop himself from thinking of That Day. The Day When Rose Died.

He'd been helpless then too. Helpless to save her, from torture or from death, and helpless to do anything other than bind their minds together in an eternal spousal bond, so that she died wrapped in his love for her.

The bond bound them together throughout their lives, so even her death and rebirth, and his regenerations wouldn't dim their love. He literally could not be attracted to anybody else of any species, be they female, male or undetermined. Rose's reincarnation, too, would be unable to be attracted to anyone else, and the Doctor was selfishly glad of that. It would be hard enough, convincing her to believe he wasn't a raving maniac or a stalker or whatever, without her being in love with someone else.

The only thing worse than the possibility of never finding Rose was the possibility of finding her and being rejected, for any reason.

Unfortunately, the bond had been broken with her death, and would only repair itself when he touched her mind again. Until then, he had to live with a constant ache in his head as well as his hearts, as his mind instinctively and regularly reached out mentally, searching for his bondmate. There were Time Lords who'd gone mad from the pain and sorrow of a broken bond, a large part of why they had fallen into disuse, but the Doctor could never regret his decision to ask her to bond with him as they waited in the cell block for her execution. The two hours, fourteen minutes and fifty-six seconds he'd spent feeling her love and devotion was worth the centuries of pain.

And it helped, just a bit, to know that she hadn't been scared when she had been executed. She'd faced it with the same steely, brave determination and defiance that had drawn his attention to her in the first place.

He glanced at her portrait hanging on the wall of his lab in UNIT headquarters in Whitehall, a reminder of her on one of their best days together, painted by the finest Quixxerian artist in the 83rd century, a time and planet renowned for their superb artistic talents and their use of telepathy to create a replica of a specific memory on canvas.

"Come, Rose," he snapped impatiently, ushering her from the House of Lungbarrow in as haughty a manner as he could manage for the sake of anybody watching. It wouldn't do to make anyone suspicious of them. She followed with her head lowered in what he clearly recognized as faked submission but would fool most Time Lords, arrogant as they were, and carrying a small box in her hands. He made sure to keep his strides short, so that the chain he was forced by law to lead her by when out of the House didn't tug and hurt her. As soon as they were out of view, he paused to carefully remove the golden chain he so loathed as a symbol of his love's captivity.

If he could, he would have removed the blasted collar too, but he knew too well that doing so would alert Quences, and risk Rose's life.

He would never do that. Ever.

She waited quietly for him to undo the lead and put it in his dimensionally transcendental pocket along with the box containing the picnic supplies that he planned for them to share, then held out her hand expectantly. He clasped it and smiled widely at her as she gazed smiled back, her amber eyes sparkling with love that she shamelessly sent at him through their skin contact.

"So, where're ya takin' me today then, Theta?" She asked eagerly, her slaves' accent strong and musical to his ears.

"It's a surprise," he replied. "But first..." He leaned down and kissed her. She moaned and kissed back passionately, sending her feelings of love, adoration and arousal to him. He too was aroused, but had enough control over his body to keep himself from reacting beyond kissing her breathless. When he felt her beginning to have difficulty breathing, he pulled back. She panted and shuddered, and he smirked proudly at his ability to utterly ruin her usually carefully maintained composure, a feat not even Badger beating her bloody accomplished. His smirk faltered at the memory and guilt welled up within him.

It wasn't just guilt that he hadn't stopped it, but guilt that he'd not only allowed but approved of it until only this year. If Rose hadn't shown him the truth of his people, he'd still be a cruel brute, and he'd never recover from the shame he felt over that, nor did he deserve to. All those people he'd allowed, even ordered, to be abused. Their faces, including Rose's, haunted his nightmares.

Rose picked up his emotions, of course, no matter how tight his shields were (and they were never tight around her), and sighed. "Theta, 's not your fault. You were raised to think an' behave a certain way. You've changed, and ye're sorry for wha' ya did and thought. That's what's important, 'kay?"

She couldn't convince him fully, but he determinedly stamped down on the guilt and changed the subject, not wanting to ruin the day he had planned.

"Come on," he urged. "I want to show you something."

"I'd go anywhere with you, Theta," she murmured in response, her eyes full of love for him. He was sure that his looked the same, for how could he possibly hide it, no matter how hard he tried? "You know tha'."

They made their way to the valley at the base of Mount Lung, one of his favourite places on Gallifrey, where he had spent so much of his time as a child.

"Oh, Theta, 's beautiful," Rose gasped, and he felt his beam widen to know that his love shared his feelings towards this beautiful place.

They had a picnic, and danced in their bare feet, laughing and whispering secrets and acting like two young people in love, ignoring the class differences, the society and Family that would be hellbent on keeping them apart if they knew the truth, everything.

And then, as the twin suns began to set, Rose began to pull off her clothes.

"Rose, are, are you sure?" He whispered, hardly daring to believe she would ever be willing to give herself to him after how he'd treated her in those early days, when she was just a slave to him and he was a bitter, cruel and undeserving man. Not that he wasn't still undeserving after everything, but he didn't consider himself bitter or cruel anymore. Never again. "You don't have to-"

"I want to," she replied, now bare of everything except the collar. She crawled over to him and pressed her lips against his. "I want you, Theta. Wha' 'appened before 's gone and done. I don' care anymore. On Elorth, when people who love one another do 'the dance of life' with each other, we call it 'making love'. That's what I want, Theta. Make love to me. Please."

How could he ever again deny her anything she asked for? The answer? He couldn't.

He pulled her naked form to him and kissed her desperately, pouring all his love and gratitude to the Guardians for giving her to him into the action.

It was the first time they 'made love', but certainly not the last.

The Doctor blinked and the memory faded away, leaving 'a lump in his throat' as the humans said. Guardians of the Universe, how he adored her. How he missed her.

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

It was only a few days later that everything changed.

He discovered the Nestene Consciousness were once again attacking Earth, and again, they had based themselves out of London, England. Really, that country was just one great magnet for invasions. He'd done the calculations and discovered that 86.53233% of invasions were of Earth in various time periods, and 76.982% were centred on the United Kingdom. While the Brigadier and his men searched the plastic factories, the Doctor tracked the signal controlling the mannequins down to a shop, and after a scan that showed the whole place was infested, he decided the only solution was to blow it up. It was after closing, so he assumed that the place was empty of humans, but he decided to do a scan to check for any non-Auton life signs before blowing the store up, just to be sure no employees had stayed late for whatever reason.

He'd never be able to face himself, let alone Rose, if he were to hurt, or worse, kill, another innocent being. It was fortunate that he did, because there was indeed a life sign, coming from what he judged was the basement area. He quickly made his way down. First he found a body of an elderly man in an electrician's uniform with a hole from an Auton energy bolt in his chest, but there was no time for feelings of guilt at not managing to save the poor man. He could hear a young woman's voice, high with panic, shouting something from the next hall over, and rushed to save her, his scarf flying behind him.

She was cowering against the wall when he spotted her, surrounded by mannequins that were reaching out for her. Her golden blonde hair shielded her face from him, so he couldn't see her face, but something about her tugged at his senses, whispering that he had known her once. Still, the important thing was saving her life, so he grabbed her hand and told her to "Run for your life!"

He pulled her behind him as he ran for the lift and it was only once they were safely inside that he was able to turn to her and see if she was alright. She was remarkably composed given the circumstances, talking aloud as she tried to figure out what the Autons had been without acknowledging them as being living plastic.

But none of that really truly registered to his mind once he took in her face. The blonde hair, the same shade of gold as the Time Vortex. The eyes, like pools of honey with flecks of gold in them. The wide mouth that perfectly fit her features and he could easily picture wearing a tongue-touched smile, a smile he knew was reserved just for him.

"Rose," he whispered, voice choked with happiness, shock and relief.

It had taken the better part of six centuries, but finally, he had found her again.