Disclaimer: Not mine, but I do love to play with them. I'll put them back when I'm done. Maybe.

A/N: I was lucky. Tooth and Claw is my second favorite season 2 episode (first favorite being TIP/TSP). Of course, I agonized for ages before just sitting down a couple of times at midnight and just writing. I really had a blast though, not least because I got to watch Tooth and Claw over and over again. You know, for…research. Not…that the research really did that much good.

In the one year, three months, twelve days, fourteen hours, five minutes, and three seconds that the Doctor had known Rose Tyler, he had learned at least one thing about her: Rose Tyler liked pretty things. Pretty flowers, pretty dresses, pretty bits of jewelry…pretty boys. The Doctor, who could calculate the number of seconds in a hundred thousand years without a calculator, who knew the name of every star in this galaxy and the next, could not even begin to fathom why this wonderful human who deserved so much more, had stayed with him as long as she had.

Then, he had regenerated, from abrupt bloke with satellites for ears to skinny bloke with fantastic hair. And everything was grand (grand? Really?) because Rose Tyler liked pretty boys. Sure, there had been a few awkward moments, but Rose was nothing if not resilient, and she accepted this new, bouncy him with the same grace with which she had accepted the old, war-damaged him.

Indeed, they had fallen back into their old rhythm with an ease which should have alarmed the Doctor, but instead made him bounce with joy, ready to show her all the beautiful things in the universe as a thank you for staying with him. His choice of their first trip as a newly regenerated Time Lord and his human companion was deliberately set to parallel his first trip in the TARDIS with her. He took her to see the Earth die, and one year, three months, ten days, two hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty-seven seconds later, he took her to see the Earth live on.

Very impressive.

And now he had to top it.

He could take her to Ghaaaaarnymr; it had a gorgeous sunset, offset by the pretty purple flowers that were native to the planet, and Rose Tyler did like pretty things. He could take her to- no, he'd already done Woman Wept, hadn't he?

As he gazed at her grinning face across the console, inspiration struck.

"Rose Tyler, dress for the seventies. Time for a party."

***

Rose really did take much too long to get dressed. Here he was, all ready to impress her with his infinite wisdom and time machine, and she was playing dress up in the wardrobe.

Some things never changed.

The Doctor heard her enter, but he was too busy setting the coordinates and didn't look up until she spoke.

"What do you think of this? Will it do?"

***

Rose didn't know why she'd even bothered; she'd spent ages in the wardrobe, choosing an outfit that would (hopefully) get a rise out of the Doctor, but he'd only spared her a brief glance before pronouncing that she'd be "better off in a bin bag." Rose wasn't sure if that was a compliment, an insult, or just a statement of fact. The Doctor could be so vague sometimes.

The Doctor popped a CD into a player on the TARDIS console. "Hold on, listen to this." Loud music began to play from the speakers.

"Ian Dury and the Blockheads. Number one in 1979," the Doctor announced, beginning to set coordinates.

"You're a punk!" Rose teased, following the Doctor as he circled the console, singing along to 'Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick.' "That's what you are. A big old punk with a bit of rockabilly thrown in."

"D'you wanna go and see him?" the Doctor asked, risking another glance over at his best friend.

"How d'you mean? In concert?" Rose asked, slightly shocked. She still wasn't quite used to this new man who would willingly take her to a party. Her first Doctor had always been more interested in visiting big historical events or far off moons. This Doctor reminded Rose of her old clubbing crowd back on the estate. Except better.

"What else is the TARDIS for? I can take you to the Battle of Trafalgar, first anti-gravity Olympics, Caesar crossing the Rubicon or…Ian Dury at the Top Rank, Sheffield, England, Earth, 21st November, 1979. What do you think?"

Rose grinned. "Sheffield it is!"

The landing was perhaps rougher than they were used to, throwing them both to the grating, laughing. The Doctor helped Rose to her feet and bounced toward the door in one fluid motion.

"1979! Hell of a year!" Rose followed the Doctor outside, listening excitedly as he listed the assets of 1979. But when she stepped out of the TARDIS and into a windswept moor, she found herself at the tip of a gun, pointed at her by a soldier on horseback. Not something she would expect to find in 1979.

"1879. Same difference."

The man who appeared to be the Captain spoke in a Scottish accent. "You will explain your presence. And the nakedness of this girl."

The Doctor affected a Scottish accent of his own. "Are we in Scotland?" He sounded delighted.

"How can you be ignorant of that?"

Still in a Scottish accent, the Doctor said, "Oh, I'm- I'm dazed and confused. I've been chasing this wee naked child over hill and over dale." He indicated Rose. "Isn't that right, ya…timorous beastie?"

Rose, startled at all the soldiers' attention now on her, quickly affected the best Scottish accent she could muster on short notice. "Och, aye! I've been…oot and aboot!"

The Doctor frowned. Quietly, he said, "No, don't do that."

"Hoots mon!" Rose whispered to him indignantly.

"No, really don't. Really." Rose grinned bashfully, not in the least bit embarrassed.

The Captain seemed to grow bored of their banter. "Will you identify yourself, sir?"

"I'm Doctor James McCrimmon." Rose was shocked that he didn't use his usual alias, John Smith. But, she supposed, that didn't sound very Scottish, did it? "From the township of Balamory," the Doctor added. "I have my credentials, if I may?" He reached hesitantly for his psychic paper, flashing it around to the group of soldiers.

The soft voice of a woman spoke from a carriage that Rose had only just noticed. Clearly, this woman was of some importance, considering the amount of soldiers guarding her. "Let them approach."

"I don't think that wise, Ma'am," the Captain called over his shoulder.

"Let them approach."

The Doctor gestured toward the carriage, and the Captain had no choice but to allow the Doctor and Rose to pass. "You may approach the carriage. And show all due deference."

The door of the carriage opened to reveal a dignified woman with grey hair, wearing a black dress. The look in the Doctor's eyes changed to wonder. "Rose, might I introduce her Majesty Queen Victoria?"

***

Why couldn't he ever encounter a historical figure without something bad happening? Today should've been such a fun day. Sure, he hadn't made it to the concert he'd promised Rose, but, judging from her expression when she was presented to Queen Victoria, she hadn't minded. They'd even had a bit of fun, putting on a bet (which Rose couldn't possibly win), and then the wolf-worshipping monks had had to go and spoil the fun, setting a bloody werewolf free in the castle.

So many good men had died today. The Doctor turned away from the window to Rose, sleeping on the bed, her back to him. She had removed her boots and her tights, so she was just in her dungaree skirt and pink top. Lady Isobel had been besot with grief when she had been told her husband had died, and it was one of the maids (Flora, the Doctor thought she was called) who had found the remaining guests rooms for the remainder of the night. Due to the many rooms that were ravaged from the beast, the Doctor and Rose had been forced to share a room, although, to be honest, the Doctor didn't need much sleep, and he would have found his way to Rose's room anyway tonight after such a dangerous adventure.

Rose shifted on the bed, flopping onto her back, sighing deeply. Okay, so maybe she wasn't as asleep as the Doctor had assumed. She turned her head to the side, just able to make out the Doctor's silhouette against the backdrop of the night sky. "Doctor?" she whispered, her voice groggy.

"Can't sleep?" the Doctor whispered sympathetically.

"Not really, no," Rose said, rubbing her eyes with one hand. The Doctor swiftly approached the bed, toeing off his trainers and sitting down. Rose automatically made room for him on the tiny space as the Doctor lay down beside her.

"Been a hell of a day," the Doctor said, thinking over the night. Rose had almost been eaten at least twice, and she had kept going. At times like this, the Doctor agreed with Jackie's presumption that his life was never safe. At least, on the estate, Rose wasn't in danger of being eaten by a werewolf of all things.

"Yeah," Rose agreed, staring at the Doctor with unseeing eyes. The Doctor could only imagine where her thoughts were resting. On Captain Reynolds, being devoured before her eyes. On Sir Robert, on his dying screams as he gave his life for them. The Doctor touched her cheek to bring her back to the present, back to him. Rose met his gaze and gave him a weak smile. With a smile of his own, the Doctor wrapped his arm around Rose's shoulders, dragging her to him and letting her rest her head on his chest, listening to the comforting thud of his double heartbeat.

Rose was silent for so long that he thought she had fallen asleep, so he was startled when she spoke at last. "Doctor, can I ask you something?"

The Doctor's hand moved to her wavy hair, absently playing with the blonde strands. "Anything," he said quietly.

"Something the wolf said, when I was trapped with it in the cellar…" the Doctor's arm automatically tightened around her, not liking the reminder of how close he had come to losing her so early in the evening. "I got a lot of what it said, about the Empire of the Wolf and all that, but it said to me…" Rose's voice faltered as she struggled for words.

"Go on," the Doctor encouraged.

"It said that there was…'something of the wolf' about me," the Doctor's hand stilled in her hair, and Rose's next words caused him to tense up immediately, "And then it said I burnt like the sun." She felt the tension in the Doctor and lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest. "You know what it meant." It wasn't a question. When the Doctor didn't answer, eyes darting anywhere but at Rose, Rose continued, "I keep on trying to work it out. The closest thing I can think of is back when you sent me home. I was in the TARDIS, and then…there was this light." Rose's voice went quiet, wistful, as she recalled the beautiful light of Time (although she didn't know that was what she was remembering). When the Doctor still didn't answer, Rose said quietly, "Doctor? What happened…on the Game Station? I know you sent me home. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in the TARDIS and you're regenerating."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "I sent you home, Rose. And you, you completely brilliant human, you came back. Do you remember how?" Rose shook her head, blushing under his suddenly intense gaze and unexpected compliment. "Think back," the Doctor urged, "what's the last thing you remember?"

"I remember…" Rose began hesitantly. The day was such a blur; it hurt her head to remember. "I was sitting with Mickey. He was telling me to give up…and then…" She looked to the Doctor in shock, meeting his eyes. "Bad Wolf," she whispered. The Doctor smiled sadly. Rose continued. "We got the TARDIS open, and I looked into what you said was the heart of the TARDIS, and then there's just…light. Light and singing."

"I underestimated you," the Doctor admitted. "I thought the TARDIS would be safe, untouched. I never predicted you would be so amazingly brave and selfless. You saved me."

Rose stared at him, her eyes full. "But you still died," she whispered. "If I saved you, why did you regenerate?"

The Doctor stared intently into her eyes. "I had to save you," he said seriously.

Rose shook her head. "I don't…"

'I absorbed all the energy in the Time Vortex, and no one's meant to do that.'

"Oh, my god," she whispered as the realization hit her with the force of a giant anvil. "I killed you," she choked out.

"No, no. Rose, look at me." The Doctor touched her chin, gently forcing her to meet his gaze once more. "Rose, I can regenerate, and I knew that. But you can't. That Dalek in Van Statten's museum was right. I can't choose between the universe and you. As far as I'm concerned, everything that happened that night on the Game Station turned out for the best. You and I both survived. You saved me, and I saved you."

The tears were all but gone from Rose's eyes, and she smiled at him weakly. He returned the smile with his own broad grin. "There's just one more thing," Rose said.

"And what might that be?"

"You said you absorbed all the energy in the Time Vortex. How?"

The Doctor hesitated, his hand rising to cup her cheek. "Like this," he whispered, before bending face down and gently pressing his lips to Rose's in a chaste kiss.

"Oh," Rose gasped. The Doctor made to pull away, but Rose wound one of her arms around his neck (rather awkwardly, given their position), and brought his lips back down to hers. Her tongue brushed his lips and he opened his mouth to her. They chased away the minutes with a leisurely kiss, exploring each other's mouths, memorizing the taste, the feel, of the other. Somehow, Rose found herself on her back, with the Doctor over her. One of his hands tangled in her hair, and the other was gliding up her thigh, making it past the denim of her skirt. Rose let out a moan as he found a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. She dragged her hands through his hair, and he groaned.

It was only when Rose began to remove his suit jacket that the Doctor called at stop to their activities. "St- stop," he moaned as Rose gently nibbled on his earlobe.

"Why?" Rose whispered, voice thick with desire. "You can't tell me you don't want to." She smirked and cupped him through his trousers.

"Rose," the Doctor gasped, trying for stern and just sounding aroused, "Queen Victoria is in this castle. Imagine the consequences…"

"Since when do you think about consequences?" Rose asked.

"Since I'd really like to not be interrupted."

Rose giggled, and it was the most wonderful sound in the universe. "I suppose you're right," she sighed, releasing him.

"I'm always right," the Doctor said, flopping on his back and once more guiding Rose's head to his chest, trying to make his increasingly obvious arousal go away. I'm a Time Lord, I'm above such things. He repeated over and over in his head.

It didn't work, but that could've been Rose's presence, so very much on top of him. He knew that, if it came to a choice, he'd take the painful erection any day.

***

At dawn, the survivors of last night gathered to watch as the two mysterious strangers got knighted for their brave deeds of the night before.

"I dub thee Sir Doctor of TARDIS," Queen Victoria announced, tapping the Doctor on each shoulder once with a sword before turning to Rose.

"I dub thee Dame Rose of the Powell Estate." Rose and the Doctor grinned at each other in excited disbelief. They stood when Queen Victoria told them to.

"Many thanks, Ma'am," the Doctor said.

"Thanks, their never gonna believe this back home," Rose said in a hushed tone. Not that she'd ever be able to tell anybody except for Mum and Mickey.

"Your Majesty, you said last night about receiving no message from the great beyond. I think your husband cut that diamond to save your life," the Doctor said. "He's protecting you even now, from beyond the grave."

Queen Victoria did not look gratified, as one might expect her to. In fact, she didn't look very- "Then you may think on this, also: that I am not amused," –amused at all.

The Doctor groaned, and Rose grinned jubilantly. "Yes!"

"Not remotely amused," Queen Victoria continued. The Doctor and Rose schooled their faces into serious expressions. Rose's lips twitched. "And henceforth, I banish you."

***

Their howls died away as the TARDIS dematerialized back into the Vortex. Rose leaned against the console, grinning. "So, go on then. Pay up."

The Doctor's delighted grin died away at once, morphing into a rather uncomfortable look. He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, Rose, the thing is-" Rose raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Well, you did bet that you could get her to say 'We are not amused' not 'I am not amused,' so, technically, you should pay up," he finished triumphantly.

Rose scoffed disbelievingly. "Since when do you need money, anyway?" she asked, not willing to give in.

He answered her with another question. "Since when do you need money?"

"Well," Rose faltered, "for clothes and things, I suppose."

The Doctor moved so close to her that Rose could count every individual freckle on his face. "How about…we forget about the bet for now?"

"Why would we do that?" Rose meant to sound stern, but her voice was a lot more breathless.

"Well, for starters, Queen Victoria's not going to come barging into the console room, is she?"

"You're right, she's not," Rose whispered, winding her fingers in the Doctor's hair, bringing his lips down to hers in a smoldering kiss.

The Doctor wrapped his arms around Rose, dragging her in tighter, pulling her flush against him, fitting her into the contours of his body as they kissed passionately. The Doctor pressed Rose against the console, snogging her breathless, before pulling away. "Bedroom," he gasped. His hands traveled downwards, gripping Rose's thighs. She propelled herself upward, wrapping her legs around his slender waist. The first room the Doctor came to was, unsurprisingly, a bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, climbing over to her, covering her with his body.

Lips hovering centimeters from hers, he whispered, "I bet…I could have all your clothes off you and on the floor in less than three minutes."

"How much?" Rose groaned, distracted slightly by what he was doing with his hands, already easing down her tights, causing her to squirm as his fingers brushed her knickers.

The Doctor pulled away, giving her his cheekiest grin, the bastard. "Oh, say, ten quid?"

"Done."

This was one bet Rose didn't mind losing.