Who's Afraid of Rose Tyler?

6

The Tenth Doctor was in the console room, as if he knew to meet her there, when she materialised in the golden air with Tidrin.

"Rose? What's going on, who's – alright, alright, I've got you," he spoke to Tidrin when his legs buckled again, helping Rose to keep him on his feet. She didn't need the help, but she didn't complain.

"Sit him down," she said. Donna wasn't there. That was something.

They lowered Tidrin into the chair and he tried to regain his composure, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

"This is the Doctor," Rose introduced him to Tidrin, "He can help you."

"What's happened to him?" asked the Doctor, growing more serious as he noticed the non-Silurian organs grafted onto him. "Someone's done this to him? Someone's experimenting on Silurians?"

"He did it to himself," she said, wiping her hands on her jeans. He'd been bleeding a little, from one of his many wounds. His own blood, or the blood he'd stolen from his victims and transfused into his veins? "He's trying to combine humans and Silurians, says it's the future of 'evolution on Earth'. Four homeless people he's murdered since September."

"Is that what you've been doing all week? Investigating?" he asked, taking out the sonic screwdriver.

"This and that. He said I can't take him back to the Silurians because they'll execute him-"

"Silurians have always been a bit eugenics-y," said the Doctor, crouching in front of Tidrin and scanning him slowly with the screwdriver, "Wouldn't take kindly to genetic impurity like this. Cutting out bits of humans and sticking them to himself – it's barbaric."

"I told him that," said Rose.

"Blood poisoning, advanced," said the Doctor, looking at the screwdriver, "You can tell by the discolouration on the skin – redder on humans, purple in lizards. Sometimes a bit blue. Rose, I can't do much for him here, he needs medical treatment."

"I told him that, too. He says he'll keep going with his 'experiments' if anybody fixes him up. Plus, New New York hospital, wouldn't they just refer him back to the Shadow Proclamation?"

"I dunno, we could get him a cover story. Private hospitals want to keep in business, it won't do them any good to go betraying all their patients to the space police. They're paying for special treatment, after all. What's his name?"

"Tidrin, of the Eastern Lands. Listen to me, Tidrin," she spoke softly, "I'm giving you one more chance. We can take you to a hospital that will be able to treat this, but I can't take you there if you're going to keep hurting people. And you haven't got long left to decide."

"It's my mission," he whispered, not able to talk any louder, "My purpose. I never had a purpose at home. They never cared for me. Now, I'll be their saviour."

"No purpose? What did you do?" asked the Doctor.

"I was an assistant, in a mortuary. Preparing my brethren for the next life." Fitting.

The Doctor didn't speak for a while, thinking, until turning back to Rose and asking, "2060s?"

"Yes," she said, guarded.

"Silurians shouldn't be awake in the 2060s, did something happen?"

"These trees, Clara told me," Rose explained, "Back in September. Killer trees, something like that, invaded the whole city and dug these huge tunnels. He said every other Silurian hibernation pod had been damaged too much, they'd all died, except for him."

"Well, the Silurians aren't only hibernating in Brighton. They'll find a new planet one day, Tidrin, I'll help them do it. We can heal you up and take you there, how's that?" the Doctor offered.

"It's not my destiny."

"In that case, I'm sorry, Tidrin. We can take him to the hospital and turn him over to the Shadow Proclamation afterwards, then he'll likely end up in Stormcage."

"How long for?" asked Rose, "Forever? The rest of his life?"

"Probably."

"Right. So, he dies after spending decades in space prison, or he dies here, now," said Rose. "If he wants nature to take its course, I say we let it happen. Make him comfortable."

"After he killed four people?" said the Doctor.

"What's the difference? He can't hurt anyone else either way, and that's what's important. Keep him here, I'll look after him." He had such little time left. "How about Silurian painkillers? Can you get any of those?"

"If that's your decision," the Doctor said, "You're the one who brought him here."

"It is my decision," she said firmly. "Sort out a room, with a door that locks, and I'll take him down. Get him something to eat."

She hadn't thought that catching a serial killer would end with her and her husband sitting at his bedside sharing a meal of fish and chips. Proper fish and chips, from her favourite shop, down on the estate in Southwark. 2002. Donna was helping Captain Jack with something, Rose was told. She wasn't on board.

The Doctor talked to Tidrin about the Silurians, where they would go when they eventually left Earth in search of a warmer, new home planet, free of other intelligent races they'd have to share everything with. Rose got a text from Clara, asking if everything was alright, she was about to leave the church. A million, billion miles away now.

Rose replied simply: Safe, got the killer. On the TARDIS. Talk later.

"Who's that?" asked the Doctor.

"Just Clara."

"We need to talk soon," he said.

"Yeah," Rose agreed, quiet, "I think we do."

She didn't wait long for 'soon'. Tidrin didn't have much fight left in him; probably for the best. Rose suspected that even if she hadn't gotten involved with the investigation, Tidrin would have perished on his own before he could take another victim. He'd have been down in his hovel when the council had come around to fill it in with concrete, with the crimes going unsolved forever. Another Jack the Ripper.

They left him to sleep and went back to the console room. The Tenth Doctor had never been a fan of having living rooms floating around all over the place, the console room was still used for everything.

"D'you remember when we were in Cardiff?" Rose paced around the central column. The Doctor leant on a railing watching her. "You, me, Jack, Mickey. And we ran into that Slitheen, what's her name?"

"Blon," he said, "Blon Fel-Fotch."

"She said, if we took her back to Raxacoricofallapatorious, we'd be signing her death warrant, giving her over to execution. The time vortex intervened, after all that, didn't it?"

"If you want to put it that way," he said. "Did the time vortex intervene this time, as well?"

"…No. He'd have died soon whether I found him or not. But it wouldn't be right not to let those people rest. I was thinking, I'll try to put some money towards organising a memorial for them, the four. It might be nice. Give people a place to go."

"Back in Brighton? In the 2060s?"

"Yeah. It… look, I know you don't like Clara-"

"Don't like Clara? I've never had a problem with her. She's saved my life before now. It's you who never liked her."

"I know, I mean-"

"And suddenly, you're best friends."

"Well… well, maybe we are, a bit. Without Mickey and Martha, who have I got? Mum and dad have been dead for years, so has Tentoo." She stopped walking, facing him from across the console room.

"You've got me."

"Earth is… there's a whole world out there, you know? An entire planet, and how much of it did I see, before I met you? How much life did I really live?" And then, he surprised her, for the first time in a long time. He laughed a little, smiled. "What? What's funny?"

"Nothing. You used to say that about the universe, that's all. A whole wide world up there, why would you want to stay on Earth? That's what you said to Jackie."

"It was different. I want to be there while Mattie grows up, be around for her, see all those moments. She's my goddaughter, and when I'm there, I'm part of her life. I can't be that here, all I think about is what I'm missing out on."

"You've seen everything there is to see, then? The whole universe?" he asked her.

"No, but… I love you. You know that. I can't call time on this now, all of it – even though I was thinking about it, believe me. It's been going round my head all week – dump him, don't dump him." She sighed. "We're connected, forever, backwards and forwards through time. But I want – I need – to live there for a while. To move off the TARDIS. Otherwise, I'm gonna start to hate you."

"Well…" he thought, "I wouldn't want you for an enemy, Rose, that's for sure. There's another Doctor there, though…"

"You're not jealous, are you?" She was surprised. "I'm still not into women, no matter how hard Clara tries to change my mind."

"She's been doing that, then?"

"Only the usual. And if I need a Doctor, you're my Doctor. Always. But I'd like it if you let me pack a bag and leave, once everything's done with Tidrin there."

"Why wait?"

"Excuse me?"

"Let me do that for you, keep an eye on him. Have him cremated when the time comes. We can scatter his ashes sixty-five million years ago."

"I don't know… I should see it through. It's my responsibility."

"I'm only asking you to share it. I did go back and talk to their families. Saw to everything for Conejero, for Ines. You were right. This life, sometimes we get so used to it. It's good to have you on Earth, I think it's a good influence. Real life. If it's what you're choosing, I can't stop you."

"Never thought I'd see the day we went our separate ways."

"It should have happened a long time ago. It should have happened when I sent you away from Satellite Five." Her heart sank. It always came back to what she'd done to save him that day.

"There it is, then. The Bad Wolf, the time vortex."

"I don't mean it like that."

"You never think how I feel. D'you know," she got a little angry, "Sometimes, I look at you, and it breaks my heart, it really does." She felt tears rising. "Because you're always looking right through me, like I'm only there deep down, buried, and you don't see I'm there anymore – but I am. I'm here, I'm right here – it's-" She put a hand to her face.

"Rose, I really didn't - here, come over here, I promise, I always see you," he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her. For once, she didn't shrug him off.

"You were never that into us getting married, anyway," she sniffed.

"I did it for you." She didn't know what to say. She thought it was wrong, him getting married for her, not for himself, not because he wanted to. Him and his wedding day jitters, his stress, his disinterest.

"If I need you, I'll call," she said, letting go of him.

"I know."

"You'll manage everything with Tidrin?"

"Yes. I promise."

"Let me pack a bag, and… I'll see you."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No. I'll do it on my own. Just stay with him."

"I will."

"Don't send Donna to try and talk me round."

"I won't. I won't let her if she wants to."

"Good. She's been different, ever since Shaun had his aneurysm."

"Things like that tend to change people."

"I know. I don't blame her, just… she can be a lot these days. The Doctor-Donna." She approached the door deeper into the TARDIS, back to her bedroom. "I'll see you in a bit, about these ashes. It won't be long for him now. He probably won't wake up again."

"Probably not," said the Doctor. "Goodbye, Rose. For now."

She took a deep breath, "I love you."

He put on a broad smile, one of his fake ones, and managed to tell her as chipper as could be, "And I love you, too."

Saturday

It was still raining in Brighton. Garland Avenue, late at night, the blue camper in the driveway. Rose had her old backpack, the same one she'd taken with her when she'd left the estate properly, to go travelling. But she couldn't bring herself to go in just yet. All the lights were off and she didn't know the time. She sat down on the low wall in front of the house, listening to the rain, letting it wash over her.

She didn't notice the front door open behind her. She didn't know anybody was there until Clara, in her pyjamas with a coat over the top, sat down on the wall next to her. She had an umbrella which she left floating telekinetically between them.

"Mattie's right, you know," said Rose, "You never use telekinesis for anything useful."

"Keeping my hair dry, that's useful, isn't it?" said Clara. "Weather's nice."

"Yeah, it's great." Clara took a pack of cigarettes out of her coat pocket and lit one. It took a few goes on the lighter, which didn't spark easily. Rose didn't bother telling her to quit this time. "How did you know I was out there?"

"I was going for a piss, saw you through the landing window," said Clara, cigarette hanging from her mouth.

"I'd hate to interrupt you pissing."

"Oh, you didn't. I pissed, washed my hands, put on my coat, and came out here." She blew a cloud of smoke, the cigarette glowing orange.

"What time is it?"

"Not long after midnight. The Doctor's asleep."

"Midnight on Saturday?"

"Mm, the twenty-first. Happy birthday."

"You remembered my birthday?"

"Of course. Got you a card and a present, they're inside," she said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Oh, and a cake – just from the supermarket. Chocolate. She offered to bake one, but… somehow, I got the feeling you wouldn't want her to."

"…Thanks. That's nice of you."

"To get someone a birthday cake?"

"I haven't had a birthday cake for decades."

"Well, now you do. The big seven-nine, right? Can't wait till we both turn eighty next year. We'll have to have a big one."

"You and me, on a big one, without Martha there to reign us in? We'll be lucky we don't die."

"You're excited though, aren't you?" said Clara, nudging her, smoking more. Rose didn't answer.

"What did you tell them when I left?" she asked.

"Said you'd got some bad news and had to run. Left it vague. You caught him, then?" Rose nodded. "Was he a Silurian?"

"Yeah. Reckons he's trying to create Earth's next big species, a human-Silurian hybrid. He's been transplanting organs and transfusing blood into himself, that's what he was killing them for."

"Christ…"

"He's sleeping, on the TARDIS. My TARDIS. Left him with the Doctor. But I can see his future, all the futures, the traces left behind by the pieces of them that are still alive… he won't wake up. That's it."

"Could you have saved him?"

"Maybe. He said he'd keep going, though. But he would have died tonight whether I got involved or not. We had fish and chips."

"Fish and chips? With a serial killer?" said Clara, "Strange evening."

"I feel bad for him. I don't think he did want to do it – he was mad. He lost them all, all the others in hibernation, and he was so convinced that this was right, that it would end well… the things people can make themselves believe…"

"He can't hurt anyone else, that's the main thing. What do you think the messages meant, though?" Clara asked, "Bad Wolf, in the cemetery, at the church. If he was going to die anyway, without you, what do they mean?"

"That there's somewhere I should be."

"Where's that?"

"Here."

"Is this the bit where you tell me you're in love with me, and have been all this time? You've packed your bags and come to the south coast to take a chance on a poor girl from Blackpool with a twinkle in her eye?" She breathed out another cloud of smoke.

"You wish. I could never be with someone who smokes like you do – you're a bloody chimney out here." Clara laughed. "No. I need to be here, with Mattie. On Earth. Ordinary life, I think. For a bit, at least."

"You'll need somewhere to live," said Clara, "You gonna get a flat, or something?"

"A flat?" Rose stared at her. She smiled.

"Kidding. The spare room's yours, for as long as you need it."

"Right, yeah, it's just – I packed most of my clothes. And other important stuff. So… as long as I need it might be a while."

"That's fine."

"You don't have to talk to her about it? Her ex rocking up and asking for a room?"

"You've been rocking up and asking for a room for months, Rose. And we've already talked about it, at length. She was moaning at first, but she's used to you being around now. And it's good for Mattie, more stability for her. Plus, she likes it when you make fun of me."

"You're just very easy to make fun of. You mean it, though? The spare room?"

"Course. You're always welcome. We can even redecorate if you like? Repaint, put in some more shelves, pictures, that sort of thing. It's a bit empty in there at the moment."

"I don't want to take over your house."

"You're not. And she needs more projects, things to do," said Clara, "She's been badgering me about redecorating our bedroom, and I really can't be bothered, so this might keep her occupied for a while."

"Can't think about that now. I just left, left my husband."

"For good?"

"For good? What, like he left me in that parallel universe? Twice? No. I couldn't do that. That probably means I'm weak."

"Or strong?" Clara suggested, "It's brave to accept the possibility that you might change your mind one day. Instead of stubbornly doubling down."

"We'll just have to see what happens. The future's a big place. And he promised he'll handle everything for the Silurian – get him cremated, then I'll go with him to scatter the ashes."

"What was his name?" asked Clara.

"Tidrin, of the Eastern Lands."

"All that godhood, all that power, all that distance you think you feel from humanity – and you're that kind to a serial killer."

"You think I'm a god, too?"

"A god, sure. Not the God, in a monotheist sense. You're more of a Greek god, aren't you? Fallible, involved with mortals, empathetic. But still all-powerful and… ominous."

"Ominous?"

"You can be extremely ominous when the mood takes you."

"You know something?" said Rose, over the rain, which was getting worse. "My mum once said to me, when she was still living on the estate, that in fifty years' time, I'd be unrecognisable. Right to my face she said that, that I wouldn't be Rose Tyler anymore, wouldn't even be human, after staying with the Doctor for so long. I wonder if she's right."

"I wouldn't want to speak ill of Jackie," said Clara, "But she wasn't. You're still the same arsehole you were when we met."

Rose laughed, "Thanks."

"I don't think it's the time vortex that changed you, anyway. From what I can gather from listening to you and the Doctor talk all this time. Always sounded to me like he ditched you in that parallel universe, and that was what made you a bit… spookier."

"Could be. I'd have to ask her about it, see what she thinks. If you don't mind, I mean."

"Ask her whatever you like, it's not my business," said Clara, "My fag's nearly done. Do you fancy going in? Out of this rain?"

"I don't know. I like the rain." Clara laughed a little. "What?"

"Nothing, just, that's what I always missed the most about Earth, too. The rain. The thing everybody leaves this country to get away from. Come inside, though," Clara stubbed the cigarette butt out on the damp wall next to her, "I'll do you a hot chocolate, and you can have your present?"

"I'll be right in, I'll just call Benji and explain what happened. I'll only be a minute."

"Okay, then. I'll get started on those drinks. You can keep hold of the umbrella." Clara gave it to her, smiled, and went off inside, diverting the rain overhead to keep herself dry.

Rose held the umbrella and got out her phone. She didn't know if Benji would be asleep, and she didn't much care. She called him and waited, and he answered quickly.

"This better be good," he said immediately, "They've got me staking out your graveyard again."

"Hello to you, too," she said, a bit annoyed, "It's not my graveyard."

"Yeah, well, Presley's been telling the whole station that we had a solid suspect I released because she's pretty, so I'm not exactly the most popular person here. This is a punishment."

"Aren't you beyond punishments like that when you reach DS?"

"Oh, they've been trying to demote me for years… anyway, what is it? Did you get anything from that blood?" he asked.

"I did, yeah," she said, having to raise her voice over the rain. It was still picking up, and she thought it might start hailing soon. "No need for you to stay in that graveyard, I imagine. I've got your serial killer on end-of-life care."

"What do you mean?" He did not sound happy.

"I found him. He's an alien, you were right," she said. Silurians weren't aliens, but she didn't think it would matter to Benji that they'd been on Earth first. "He was, um… trying to combine his species and humans. Using himself as a test subject, with those organs."

"Test subjects how?"

"Live transplants, into himself. Anyway, he's got blood poisoning now. He won't last the night."

"I need to take him in."

"Yeah, right. No. You'll cause a galactic incident. And he'll be dead before you can formally charge him, let alone trying to find a lawyer to defend a reptile-man from the dawn of time," said Rose.

"Right, great. So, he goes uncaught?"

"Only officially. Nobody else will die. Isn't that more important than boosting your arrest numbers?

"It-"

"Does it look good on your record, catching a serial killer who managed to murder four people before you could pull your finger out and do your job?" she said.

"Excuse me? I've been working around the clock-"

"Really? Have you?" she challenged, "You should've been investigating the church, not the graveyard – Downs Anglican Church, right around the corner from wherever you're pissing about now."

"We looked into the church, and-"

"And what? He was there. That's where I found him. Just took some thermal glasses to spot that he was a reptile – but you could've worked that out for yourself if you'd talked to them properly and seen the shite mask he had on. Not only was he finding his victims there, but he was showing up every week for free food. He was there today, and you're wasting time in that graveyard again – what is it? Dead rich people are more important to the filth than living homeless ones?"

"I investigated the church myself, I talked to them, and I didn't find-"

"You don't get excuses. Four people have died. At least three of those deaths were preventable. Maybe more preventable if the council spent more time trying to house people instead of paying people like you to sit on your arse all night," Rose went on, the universe beginning to shake around her, "They were all in flux. They all could have lived. You asked me earlier if I'm human – you should be trying to find out if you're human."

"Mrs Tyler," he'd done with calling her 'Rose' now, "I appreciate that you're frustrated, but the police are here to help people."

"Yeah, right. You didn't help any of them. Lucas Seward, fine, he was the first one, and you can't see the future. But the others? Mina? Ronnie? Ade? You didn't do a thing. And he was right there, all that time. Take a look in the mirror, why don't you, Detective Sergeant." He didn't say anything. "Don't ask for our help if you're not prepared for one of us to do your job for you." He started to talk, say something else, but she hung up. She'd done her part.

Rose turned off her phone. Stood. Picked up her backpack, full of everything important in her life and weighing, to her, nothing at all. She picked up Clara's umbrella and went into the house.

Clara was in the kitchen. Rose kicked off her shoes in the hall and shoved them underneath the overflowing shoe rack, where she already had a space; homely. She traipsed all the way upstairs, towelled her hair, soaked from the rain, with a clean towel from the chest of drawers in the spare room. The only piece of furniture in there, along with the bed. Everything felt a little different, a little funny, when she went back downstairs having changed into pyjamas – one of the many sets she'd brought over in the last six months.

"It'll be like having my own wife, you here making tea and hot chocolates all the time," said Rose when she returned. She nearly slipped on the kitchen lino.

"Oh, sorry, spilt some water," said Clara.

"I should get some slippers," said Rose.

She was joking, but Clara said, "We're off to the supermarket tomorrow, they'll have some there."

"…Like I said. It's like having a wife."

"There are worst things to have," Clara shrugged, setting down two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream, cocoa powder, and marshmallows. "No water, all milk. Perfect." Also on the table was a birthday present and a card set neatly on top. "How was Benji?"

"Moody. Staking out that graveyard again. I told him he could pack it in, but he's not happy about me stealing an arrest."

"I'm sure he'll get over it."

"Strange, though, isn't it?" said Rose after sipping her hot chocolate. Delicious, as always – Clara had always been good at drinks. "Of all the people from the TARDIS back then, that you and I should end up living together, willingly."

"There's a fine line between love and hate," said Clara. "You always said you hated me, and yet, you did concoct a farcical scheme to get me to shag whatshisname for the first time."

"I suppose we did," said Rose, though she didn't remember it too well, "Don't know why you needed anybody's help to shag him, though. What were you up to all the time together before that?"

"You forget that it was only about a week after everything kicked off. And, you know, you met him. He doesn't come across as being very interested in sex. Even your one doesn't."

"And then he went and regenerated into some sort of neurotic sexpot."

"Enough about my neurotic, sexpot wife," said Clara, "Open your present."

"Alright, go on, then," said Rose, picking up the card. She ripped it open and pulled out a very plain card, large black text on a white background. Rose read it aloud: "Happy birthday, you're a cunt." She shot Clara a glare. "You're hilarious."

"What's wrong with it?" Clara feigned innocence.

Rose shook her head and opened the card, then read from the inside: "To Rose, you're the biggest cunt I know, love Clara." There was a slew of hugs and kisses scribbled at the bottom: XOXOXO. "Couldn't get the Doctor to sign it?"

"She doesn't do cards. And she didn't think it was very funny."

Rose sighed and put the card in front of her, propped open.

"I'm really the biggest cunt you know?"

"Of course," said Clara, serious.

"…Thank you," said Rose, genuinely moved by it all.

"At least, you are until Amy Pond appears in our lives again."

"Don't jinx anything," Rose warned her. That was the last thing she wanted. She picked up the present itself next. It was large, but light and squishy. Unwrapping it, she found a fluffy, pastel pink dressing gown.

"Tired of you nicking my dressing gown all the time," said Clara.

"…That's really nice, actually."

"Well, it's not every day you turn seventy-nine," said Clara.

"I don't think I've ever got you a present."

"Course you have. You gave us that bazoolium there, as a housewarming gift, remember?" Clara pointed it out, sitting on the windowsill above the kitchen sink, partially hidden by some of the Doctor's plants. "That was the day we moved in. I'll show you something, though – but you might hate it, just to warn you."

"I'll take the risk."

Clara went off into the living room to rifle through the cabinet underneath the lobster tank, where she soon found what she was looking for: one of her many, many photo albums. But Rose had never seen this one before, and it looked ancient.

"You remember when the Doctor got me that Polaroid camera? These are the pictures," said Clara, flipping it open. "And some from my phone, that I developed."

"Bloody hell…" Rose stared. Photos she never knew existed, snapped in candid moments during their time living together, all those years ago. "God… the things we did. Look, that's when we were on those buses, in the desert – that was dreadful. Oh, and there when we all got tried for witchcraft and they tried to burn you at the stake."

"And that one, see?" Clara pointed it out. It was them, just the two of them, soaking wet in front of a bright blue swimming pool. "Because we fell in, didn't we?"

"This is when we were at Dean Martin's house. I remember. Well, I don't remember, I was plastered, but, you know."

"And we got on after that."

"Mm…" Many of the other pictures were little, square snapshots of Clara and Eleven. "All that universe, all of time and space, and what have you got pictures of? Him brushing his teeth. You two in bed together. Him sleeping with a fez on his face."

"Yeah…" said Clara, smiling fondly as she looked over the pictures, too. "I've still got that fez, it's in the wardrobe upstairs."

"Just like you still have his screwdriver."

"I can take or leave time and space. But the Doctor… she's my whole world, not the TARDIS."

"And you're the only person those two things come separately for."

"Could be."

"Can I keep this?"

"Excuse me?"

"Not keep it keep it, just for a bit, to look over."

"Yeah. But be careful, I don't have copies of any of these."

"Of course I'll be careful. I'll see if there are any good ones of Mickey and Martha from back then, show them to Mattie."

"Sure."

"It's a shame we didn't take advantage of it all more," said Rose, "Everybody was always in such a bad mood in those days…"

"You were always in a bad mood. Probably because you cheated on Tentoo for weeks, then chucked him out into space."

"Yeah… maybe it was always me."

"Doesn't matter, though," said Clara, "We're here now."

"I suppose we are. And I get to be a permanent third wheel."

"Well, if you ever want me to set you up with Cameron or Jez from work-"

"Eurgh, don't start. Creepy bastards."

Clara laughed a little, "Anyway… do you want some cake?"

"No, better not. I should really go to sleep."

"You'll have to have it before she gets to it and forgets it's somebody else's birthday cake," said Clara.

"Will she? Forget?"

"…No, probably not. But she will nag me about it. She'd eat this whole planet if it was covered in enough sugar."

"Starting with your fanny, I bet."

"Oh, absolutely."

"Bed, though," Rose cleared her throat. She'd finished her drink, getting through it quickly. "No point in staying up late to talk to you, is there? Not if I'm gonna be here every day."

"If you ever do need to talk, though," said Clara, taking the empty, tall glasses to rinse in the sink, "You know I'm always about. Even if it's the middle of the night – even if I'm at work."

"Work – now that's something. I'll have to get a job, pay you rent."

"Rent? No. Definitely not, I won't hear of it. Nor will the Doctor."

"You can't let me live here with you for nothing."

"Why can't we?"

"Because I'm using all your stuff – food, water, electric."

"Well, if you do get a job – which, there's no rush for – then, sure, you can contribute to those things. But not rent. We can pay our own mortgage, we don't need to leech money out of you to do that."

"I need a CV to get a job. How do I get them to overturn that I died in 2006, do you reckon?" asked Rose, following Clara out of the kitchen. She brought her new dressing gown and birthday card with her, plus the old photo album.

"I really don't know – we can give you a fake identity, that's what we did."

"No, what's the point? I'm me. I don't want to hide."

"We can talk about all this later," said Clara, lowering her voice as they approached the stairs in the hallway, "There's no rush. Just take some time for yourself."

"But what am I gonna do all day?"

"I don't know. You've got the weekend, at least," Clara lingered with her on the first-floor landing, whispering; the Doctor asleep in one room, Matilda presumably asleep – but also just as likely to be staying up late in secret – in the loft. "You can come to the shop with us tomorrow. I always think, things make a bit more sense in a shop."

"That's just you."

"We'll see. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday, though."

"Yeah."

"I'll see you in the morning, then? Unless you fancy a quick shag? Door's always open."

"I'm not gonna shag you."

"Then I'll see you in the morning," Clara smiled, "Goodnight, Rose."

"Yeah. Night."

She didn't know how it had all happened when she thought about it. She left everything on top of the chest of drawers, returning to the bare, extra bedroom, the one they'd deemed too small to put Mattie in, opting to give her the loft conversion instead. Now it was Rose's; nearly fifty-two years after she'd met Clara Oswald on the TARDIS, and Clara's spare room was Rose's.

And it was strange. Clara was still the most irritating, self-important, borderline narcissistic person she'd ever spent prolonged time with, but the prospect of living with her indefinitely now filled Rose with relief.

The universe could be strange sometimes, and the people in it even stranger.

AN: And that is it for Retrograde: Season One. The status quo of the Clara/Doctor/Mattie/Rose quartet family dynamic has been reached, and new character arcs will begin in the next one. Also, keep an eye on 5 Time Lords, 13 Companions for a surprise this summer (10 years!).