My Alternatives fic for The Girl in the Fireplace. Just so you all know, this is a Doctor/Reinette story.

The Slow Path

In the course of hours, not even one complete day, he had met, loved and lost one of the most wonderful women throughout history.

It had been brilliant, those few hours between when Reinette had been kissing him for the first time, to when he had thought she would be travelling with him, even if it was just to one lone star in the sky she could see from outside her window.

He had forgotten the feeling of what it felt like to fully love someone like that. The feeling he had for Rose had faded with his regeneration.

For such a short time, just a tiny fraction of time, he had felt that and had been able to let himself feel it and show her. Oh, and he had. He danced with her. In her bedroom, they never quite made it all the way to the ballroom, though he did manage to invent the first ever banana daiquiri. They had drunk from the one glass.

He had never wanted to leave, but he knew that she would have to eventually show up to the ball, even if it was all mussed up and still smelling like him and sex. Well, she had planned to use him to make the King jealous.

It had worked.

Reinette became the King's Mistress.

Oh, how he had burned with jealousy, though knew he couldn't change that little detail.

The problem was he had gone back pretending to be drunk, dancing like a clown and still smelling of her and what they had done. For some odd reason, Mickey had picked up on that first, and, oh, the look that boy had given him had been of complete surprise.

Rose hadn't figured it out until he had sent her to go to talk to Reinette. Something about their talk must have made her senses connect with her brain, because since then she had been acting odd. Well, after that he had jumped through a time window on the back of Arthur, and had thought he would be taking the slow path back to the TARDIS.

And now, now it was over. He had missed Reinette, and had only just been in time to see her body leave Versailles.

He felt like his hearts had been crushed. She had hoped and held on to him going back for her, even after her death, or she never would have left the note.

And even though they had barely met during her lifetime, let alone his, she had loved him just as deeply as he had loved her.

And Rose was now in the console room, frowning at him. Sure, a few hours ago she had been asking if he was alright, but with her you never know if she really means things like that. Maybe it had shown on his face, and she knew he wasn't. He knew Mickey had picked up on it, dragging her away so he could have some time on his own.

He had wanted to go to his room afterwards, shed some of his grief by himself and in privacy, but he had ended up staring for the past few hours at the monitor instead.

"What happened to make you all put out, Doctor? Did she dump you?"

He glared at Rose and felt himself getting angry. "No. She died young."

And for a brief moment, he saw the triumph, the win in her eyes. Before that faded away and she put on her sorry look. The look she gave people like Gwyneth when she thought they were being stupid but she wanted to be polite anyway and tell them they were wrong, even though they weren't. It usually failed with them, did she honestly believe it would work on him?

"Oh. I'm sorry. Still, you barely knew her. Not like you were in love or anything, right?"

He didn't bother even answering that, instead he walked past her, shouldering his way by her, since she was too close to his exit to the corridors of the TARDIS not to touch her in some way.

She reached out, grabbed his arm and hugged his side. "If you want, you can stay with me tonight. I mean, for comfort. Got a big bed..."

He blinked and shook his head. "Thanks but no thanks, Rose. I want to be on my own for a while. Do you mind letting go now?"

It took a few rather long seconds, before her grip lightened and he could step out of her reach. After that, he went to his bedroom, closed the door and got the TARDIS to lock it.

He had planned to cry, but he didn't. He spent the night instead staring at a suddenly formed fireplace that had appeared, compliments of the TARDIS, in his room.

It looked just like Reinette's but this one's fire (and he promised himself it always would) burnt bright.

He always had something to tribute those people he loved.

For Reinette, there would be that fireplace, and the spark between them.

Always.