How did I get here?

It had been a busy trying day, and that is saying something when you consider this life of his.

Blowing up Downing Street? He couldn't help but grin every time he thought of it.

It was all very exciting.

And all that excitement tends tire out stupid little apes, so when he and Rose stepped back into the comforting warmth of the TARDIS after a rather teary goodbye from Jackie, they slipped from the surface of the world to fall through the time vortex for an indeterminable time until the urge to save the world overcame them.

Rose was tired as he expected, but what he hadn't expected was for her to be a stubborn ape and nigh on refuse to get to bed and instead insisting on waiting up to watch some movie she caught and advert for while back on Earth; around about 4 minutes before the Police showed up and Jackie slapped him.

None the less he obliged as it had been a very trying day.

He looked up the movie in his archives and hit play. He tossed his jacket over the back of the sofa before settling deep in its depths with Rose close at his side.

Barely 20 minutes had passed when he felt Roses head drop onto his shoulder.

He could feel her heart rate and breathing slow as 2 minutes later she gave into sleep.

He gave up watching the sappy movie, instead choosing to watch the slow rhythmic breaths that sustained the life of the human at his side.

He watched her for an hour or so and all the while thinking what he would have done in that cabinet room had Harriet Jones been absent.

"I could save the world but lose you."

He'd never done that before.

Considered the life of one against 5 billion; sure it was prompted by his promise to Jackie to keep her safe but he couldn't help but wonder if there was something else.

Was she more important than 5 billion people?

No.

At least that should have been the answer, but within him he could feel the beginnings of an uneasy battle.

And as the rages of an internal war began he fell into a dreamless though fitful sleep.

How did I get here? the Doctor thought as he awoke.

He found himself lying prone on the couch with a not entirely unwelcome weight pressed against him and wedged between him and the back of the sofa.

Rose.

But far more surprising was how his arm had ended up wrapped around her with his hand resting rather intimately on her hip.

He also noted he hand had found its way over his hearts and her fingers clutched desperately to the material of his jumper.

He sighed slightly, neither dejected nor contented, just a sigh.

If this wasn't domestic he didn't know what was; aside from perhaps the extremely clichéd dishwashing bubble fight/snog fest.

He cringed inwardly at the fact that the very idea of that scenario did not make him cringe.

What the hell was going on?

He wasn't supposed to do domestic at all let alone contemplate it with a 19 year old human from the 21 century.

He sighed another non committal sigh and let his mind go blank.

This left ample room for his current position to be both consciously and sub-consciously analysed.

He could feel her warm weight pressed against him.

He could smell faint traces of shampoo and perfume through her natural musky scent that filled his nostrils.

He could hear her soft breaths and match them with the quiet rhythm of her heart.

And all of it felt like a soothing balm for his troubled soul which only served to trouble his mind further.

He held his breath slightly as he felt Rose shift momentarily bringing her leg to cover his own and mumble incoherently before slipping back into the comforting warmth of the world of dreams.

He waited until her breathing became even once again and let out the breath he'd be holding, watching her face to make sure she was still asleep.

Quite out of the blue he wondered if she would feel embarrassed waking up in this position, and then he wondered why he himself wasn't embarrassed with Rose lying practically on to of him.

He sighed slightly once again, his brows knitted together in thought.

He decided that he was going soft in his old age. Though it seemed he had a particularly soft spot for the girl in his arms.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it (and much later he decide it would take half the wonder out of it if he did) but she was special.

She was important.

And to him, she was more important that 5 billion people.

So that was it, he had his answer.

And it scared the hell out of him.

But despite the answer he trusted Rose never to let him be faced with that choice again. She had always put everyone else before herself, completely ignorant of her own importance.

Especially, her importance to him.

He sighed once again, both contented and troubled.

He could never tell her.

It just wouldn't be right and despite a curiosity as to how she felt about him he could never put her in that position.

But he could show her.

He could show her the beginning and the ending of stars.

He could show her the great civilisations and achievements of the universe.

He could show her the greatness of the human race and their influence on the universe.

He could show her wonders she'd not yet dreamed of.

He could show her he loved her.

With that thought he held her tightly to him, his hand covering her over his hearts and drifted from reality and into the world of dreams.