Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.
Spoilers: Through Girl in the Fireplace.

Rose woke from blissful dreams to find herself alone, tangled in the burgundy sheets of the unfamiliar bed. If the Doctor were any other bloke she would be upset, but he rarely slept and it was no surprise he'd risen before her. She stretched and rubbed at her eyes, still irritated from all the tears shed in the wake of that broken mirror. They'd avoided the requisite seven years of bad luck if the night before was anything to go by. She looked up as the door opened and revealed the Doctor, carrying a tray with pancakes and mugs. Fully dressed, he looked alert if a little nervous and Rose wondered how long he'd been awake.

In fact, the Doctor had checked the communication circuits eight times, burning his hand twice, ransacked the library for telepathy books which his ship refused to provide and discovered they were out of jam which meant his plan to make toast was in limbo until they landed. He reluctantly determined they would have to make do with pancakes instead. The TARDIS approved of the new plan, supplying several bottles of syrup to the cause.

"How is it that we have enough syrup for a moderately sized army but no jam?" the Doctor grumbled.

Rose, it turned out, was equally in favor of the pancakes and her enthusiasm offset his lingering aggravation. He returned to the kitchen with the empty plates to find Mickey happily munching on a piece of toast. With jam. Strawberry, to be precise. Before Mickey could comment on the numerous plates and their probable connection to Rose, the Doctor had turned on his heel and exited the kitchen. Rose found him an hour later standing in front of a piece of machinery and sucking on several fingers.

"Let me see."

"M'fine," the Doctor mumbled, but he acquiesced to the firm tug on his wrist.

"Ouch. She really got you." She turned his hand over, examining the injured area.

"It sort of...accumulated."

"Thought you said she was pleased now."

"She is. With that."

"Ah." Rose sighed. "I talked to Mickey."

"Oh?"

"Told 'im you made me pancakes to make up for leavin'."

"That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I know. But..."

She hesitated and he felt an unusual surge of panic in his gut. "You don't regret that we...um...do you?"

"No! No." She shook her head firmly and reached for his other hand. "Just, Mickey...oh, I don't know what to tell 'im. I've always said we weren't like that. He's not gonna believe me."

"I can certainly think of a way to convince him." He pulled her closer, ignoring the stinging pain in his hand, and lowered his voice. "Several, in fact."

She grinned, tongue peeking between her teeth. "Bet you can."

"Can what?" asked Mickey.

The Doctor jumped, separating himself from Rose. "Can...eat six bananas faster than a Slytheen." He clapped his hands together and then winced as his injured hand throbbed in response. "So...Mickey. Shall we see what you get on your second try?"

"Yeah, I guess." Mickey folded his arms across his chest. "Though beatin' a spaceship is gonna be tough."

"'Course it is. Whole wide universe. What could possibly beat a 51st century spaceship?"

Mickey frowned. "Hang on. You makin' fun of--?"

"Console room! Pronto!" the Doctor declared, briskly leading the way.

Rose called after him, "Doctor, your hand, maybe you should..."

"Nah, I'll be fine," he insisted. "Fast healer, me."

When they reached the console room, the Doctor immediately engaged in a flurry of activity around the central column. Rose and Mickey separated to find bits to hold on to, but the ship settled with only a slight shudder.

"That was a lot smoother than usual," Rose commented, letting go of the coral strut she'd grabbed.

"Really?" the Doctor asked, sounding entirely unsurprised.

"Yeah." Rose nodded.

"Lucky maneuver, right?" Mickey asked.

"Luck has nothing to do with it." The Doctor met Rose's gaze for a moment and then looked away to engage the hand-brake. "Bellaria," he announced. "Third moon of Alleroth." Grabbing his coat from the jump-seat, he shrugged it on as he pushed open the TARDIS door.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Rose exclaimed, eyes sparkling as they swept across the verdant hills and valleys.

Mickey folded his arms and scowled at the landscape. "Yeah, beautiful. I'll give you that. But not impressive. I mean...we could be on Earth."

"But we're not. Thought we could use a break of sorts." Immensely pleased with Rose's reaction, the Doctor rocked back on his heels before letting himself take in the view as well. "And it's a great place for...hang on...that's a village."

Nestled in one of the nearby valleys was a small collection of buildings with a single steeple towering over them. The Doctor squinted, cataloguing the layout of the town and noticing that everything was constructed from the same grey stone with roofs of terra cotta tile. Not materials obtainable in this or several bordering galaxies. It was quaint, picturesque and entirely wrong.

"Yeah, pretty ordinary looking if you ask me," Mickey observed. "Bit medieval, though."

"What's wrong?" Rose asked, noticing the Doctor's furrowed brow.

"Bellaria is uninhabited."

"You get the date wrong?"

"No...no, I don't think so."

"Trouble?"

"Well...the possibility of it at least." He started to reach for Rose's hand and then remembered his additional passenger. Oh, what had possessed him to let Mickey Smith tag along. Irritated, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat and trudged down the hill, practically growling, "C'mon."