Inspired by Ron Pope's Our Song. I REALLY recommend you listen to it!

Upon a cool grassy hill sat Rose Tyler and the Doctor, watching the night descend upon the small village nestled in the valley below them. What had once been magnificent, almost majestic mountains were now little more than soft, rolling hills. Though numerous centuries of both nature's and the inhabitants' actions had reduced their prominence, the aged hills still provided steadfast security to the communities situated between their hollows.

The reason for their presence on the quaint planet still eluded Rose. No mistaking, it had been a thoroughly enjoyable day. The indigenous race—gentle, elfin-like humanoids—were exceedingly generous, charming yet humble individuals. Their interactions with one another were nothing short of pleasant. Almost everything about them exuded an air of peace and tranquility. That characteristic, in particular, added to Rose's confusion. After all, she was "jeopardy friendly" (the Doctor's stance, not hers), and he was a magnet for trouble. The fact that they'd gone nearly twelve hours without so much as a disruption was staggering.

Now, as they sat on the hilltop, a gentle breeze swaying the blades of iridescent grass surrounding them as they observed the melding bands of purples and reds reach their peak and slowly morph into the black of night, Rose found she could no longer keep her curiosity in check.

Turning to him, she prodded, "Doctor?"

"Hmm?" he replied, turning to meet her, a lazy smile upon his lips.

"Was there some reason you decided to take us here? Not that it hasn't been lovely," she assured him, "it's just you normally have somethin' you want to see, or at the very least, ya ramble on 'bout some fascinating landmark or festival or what not. But we've gone all day without any of that. Y'didn't even pull out your sonic. Should I be worried?"

A grin emerged from the Doctor as Rose finished speaking. "Thought you liked surprises, Rose?"

"'Course I do," she replied, a mirroring grin upon her lips. "I 'specially like when I see what they are."

"Patience, Rose," he smilingly admonished, "Patience."

"Would ya prefer I call you pot or kettle?" Rose quipped, her eyebrow cocked at the irony of him directing her to be patient.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes in mock disapproval before broadly grinning once again, bopping the tip of her nose.

"Cheeky, Miss Tyler. Very cheeky."

She giggled and wrinkled her nose. "So…"

"So…," he drawled, "See the grass?" Brushing his hand over the blades, a shimmering light was emitted.

"I saw that it was strange when we sat down. It was shiny then, but it seems different now. Like it's changin'."

"Right you are, Rose. These blades contain the minutest particles of illumonia. Its molecular structure gives it that iridescent effect. Nothing particularly fascinating about that in an' of itself…"

"Dunno 'bout that," Rose said, twirling the blades of grass next to her. "Not every day ya see glowin' grass."

"Iridescent, Rose…not glowing."

Grinning, she rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she mumbled under her breath.

"Anyway," the Doctor drawled again, "as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, there's nothing particularly fascinating about that. However, Junesa's gravitational makeup alters ever so slightly when their suns set."

There was a pause as Rose waited for him to continue his explanation. When he continued to remain silent, she felt the need to prod.

"Okaaay…which means?"

Grinning like a loon, he flicked his eyebrows upward and scooted just a tad closer to her. "Just watch," he instructed, pointing towards the horizon.

The earlier purples and reds that had streaked the darkening skies had completely dissipated. There was only the tiniest bit of sunlight still present, but it quickly descended, finally heralding the night. For a few brief moments there was complete stillness, only the faint sounds of the village below were carried on the wind. Just as Rose was about to inquire further, a light began to shine not only around them, but also across the vastness. From the blades of grass the opalescent particles of light were pulled. Ever so slowly, they journeyed heavenward, shining as glitter in the night.

With wide eyes, Rose felt her jaw slack as she watched in awe the phenomenon surrounding them. In all of their travels, she had seen numerous, practically countless spectacular events, each one unique and incredible in their own right. But this…this was a sight that Rose was certain would be etched in her memory clear to her final days.

"Oh, my… Doctor… 's beautiful," she sighed, breathless from the witnessed beauty.

So fixated was Rose on the wonder above them, that she was completely ignorant of the Doctor's eyes focusing on her lovingly, longingly. In his eyes, the magnificent display in the night sky could never compare to the awestruck woman sitting beside him. He was completely and utterly captivated by her. And if he was to be entirely honest with himself, even if for one fleeting moment, he had been since the moment he took her hand.

The instant their skin had touched, every nerve surged and his mind ignited with innumerable images and sensations, none of which he'd been able to properly process. Even with his mind's heightened capacity, it was overwhelming. And as the Doctor continued to stare at her, completely captivated, he was overcome with an overwhelming impulse—one he couldn't deny.

Never taking his eyes off of Rose, he stood and extended his hand.

"Dance with me."

That tender request, so unexpected and uncharacteristically forward, was enough to turn Rose's focus to the Doctor. She stared up at him, once again speechless.

"What?" Rose asked, convinced that she had misheard him.

With a surprising show of courage, the Doctor spoke again.

"Dance with me." His voice was rough with emotion, yet his eyes were filled with incredible tenderness.

Rose's heart beat madly within her chest as she put her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. This was quiet possibly the most nervous that Rose had ever felt in her life—odd that, considering all the incredibly nerve-wracking situations she had been through in her life. Of course, the fact that the Doctor had yet to let go of her hand and continued to regard her so intensely, might have had a small factor in the current tango her heart was beating out. However, though her nerves were raging, there was no chance in this universe—or any other for that matter—that Rose was going to let them get the better of her.

Rose fully expected the Doctor to release her hand in order to position himself for their impromptu dance, but he did not. Instead, he expertly moved their hands into place, and all the while their fingers remained closely intertwined. He then took a slow step closer to her, gently placing his hand on the small of her back. Rose swallowed harshly at his incredibly bold and intimate gesture.

Though to Rose he appeared unaffected, that was not even remotely close to being the case. No, the Doctor was indeed affected; very much so. His hearts beat madly, his pulse bounded in his ears, and his skin felt afire with her touch. That long ingrained sense of emotional avoidance was still present, but at that moment it was an echo compared to its usual blaring. He was not going to allow anything to take that moment away, not even his own neuroses.

The Doctor hadn't been needlessly dramatic when he'd spoken of an approaching storm. Every sense he possessed alerted him to its certainty. But, as with all storms, their landfall could never be pinpointed to a precise moment. And there were some things that were beyond even his superior knowledge and gadgetry. And with that unknown hurtling towards them, the Doctor decided that for one moment, no matter how small or fleeting, he was going to do something for himself. Just this once, he was going to be selfish.

Rose didn't know the reason behind the Doctor's newfound forwardness, but it was most welcome. Almost from the moment he had taken her hand, Rose had been drawn to him, each passing hour strange and wonderful. When she ran across the threshold of that magnificent blue box, she knew that her life would never be the same. But it wasn't until Downing Street, when they stood staring at each other over a boardroom table, that Rose saw the true depth of that sentiment. It was then that she realized that the Doctor held more than just her fascination—he held her heart.

Even though she'd dreamed of a quiet moment such as this, Rose still found her nerves fluttering wildly as they started to gently sway. After a few minutes, she stepped closer, bravely laying her head against the Doctor's chest.

"Shame there's no music," Rose spoke softly as they moved to and fro.

Bending his head so his lips hovered just above her ear, he whispered, "I think I know a song you'll like."

Before Rose could question, a soft and sweet melody began to fill her ear. It was foreign to her, but beautiful nonetheless. She closed her eyes as the Doctor continued to hum, his breath occasionally ghosting the shell of her ear. Overcome with sudden emotion, Rose closed her eyes tighter as a solitary tear trailed her cheek.

"Never, ever" she had said. Rose had vowed to stay with her Doctor forever, and she was going to do everything in her power to ensure she would do just that. But despite that determination, Rose couldn't deny the niggling fear trying to worm its way into her being. She knew it wanted to take root, to weaken her, but there was no way she was going to empower it. So for that moment in time, with the magnificence of the night surrounding them, Rose was going to do nothing but revel in the feel of being in the tender embrace of the man she loved.

A gentle breeze passed through the terrain, catching the melody and wrapping it around the entwined couple. Rose shivered, whether it was from the coolness of the air or the Doctor's touch was unclear, but his reaction to her silenced all wondering. He released her hand and, though Rose thought it impossible, took another step closer. He brought his idle hand to her back, gently moving it up and down as if to warm her. She responded by resting her now free hand to his shoulder.

In that moment, in that place, the Time Lord found that his inherent connection to time and the universe was suspended. All that he felt was an unparalleled sense of contentment as he cradled the love of his lives to his chest. He could feel the warmth of her steady breaths through the barrier of his shirt and his own eyes closed at their caress.

In his nine hundred and some odd years, the Doctor had seen countless wonders of the universe, all unique in their own right. But as he held his pink and yellow human, the Doctor came to the irrefutable conclusion that this moment with her was by far the most awe inspiring, the most breathtaking. He was mesmerized by her–and not just her beauty. No, Rose was more than just a beautiful face. From their first encounter, he'd been struck by her cleverness; but as their relationship grew, the Doctor became captivated by her passion. Her loyalty. Her incredible compassion for others, the likes of which he'd never witnessed. Rose was able to find the smallest flicker of light in the deepest darkness-not only in the universe, but in him.

Their movements began to wind down until they were merely standing in the open field, still wrapped in each other. Countless heartbeats passed before the Doctor's embrace loosened and he pulled back, stopping when he was able to look upon her face. Words failed them both as their eyes met. There was so much that both wanted to say, so much that needed to be said; however, neither was able to do so. The war that both of them had inwardly been fighting, raged on, drowning out the voices of their hearts.

Feeling his courage beginning to fail him, the Doctor brought his hands upward, and gently cradled her face. Searching Rose's eyes for one more fleeting moment, he leaned forward and tenderly kissed her forehead. The feel of the Doctor's lips against her skin sent an intense wave of emotion crashing down upon her. Rose closed her eyes, praying that she wouldn't cave under its onslaught. Suddenly feeling the absence of his lips, Rose hesitantly fluttered her eyes open and found the Doctor ardently regarding her once more.

The Doctor was entirely aware of what his behavior was conveying. In truth, both of their actions left no room for interpretation. Only one conclusion could be drawn. Never before had the desire to profess himself been so powerful. However, fear of the approaching storm stilled his declaration. But as he continued to hold Rose's loving gaze, the Doctor knew that he couldn't let the night end without saying something.

Still cradling her face in his hands, the Doctor leant forward and rested his forehead against hers.

"Thank you," he whispered, hoping against all hope that Rose knew what those words truly meant.

Lifting her hands, Rose gently grasped his wrists, stroking her thumbs against them in a slow, deliberate fashion. To an untrained eye, her gesture might have seemed innocent enough, merely some tender token of affection. However, when it came to Rose and the Doctor, this was far from tender innocence. No, this was her assurance that she had heard him—truly heard him.

"You're welcome," Rose replied, her voice quiet but sure. "You're always welcome."

Even though neither had voiced those three meaningful words, what had been said was nearly just as intimately profound.

Slowly, the Doctor stepped back and allowed his hands to retreat back to their rightful place—one in his pocket, and the other entwined with Rose's hand. As they began the trek back to the TARDIS, the events of that night replayed over in their mind. The night had been perfection, a perfection that would forever be embedded into their memory. And in the secret innermost place of their hearts, both fervently hoped that it wouldn't be their last.