Author Note: This story is the result of a game of Fic Tennis with my Whovian bestie, flower gettin lady. So what is Fic Tennis, you ask? Well, it is a simple but fun story-telling challenge that starts with one person "serving" the other a picture. The next person writes the beginning of a story inspired by the picture and sends it back to the other person, who then adds a few more paragraphs and sends them back again, and it goes back and forth until the two of you have completed a story. It's quite fun, you should try it!

Now. If you're interested, I served the picture for this story, so the first section is written by flower gettin' lady and the second by me, and back and forth and so on and so forth. I separated each piece with a horizontal rule. Also, you can find the link to the photo we used on my profile.

So without further ado, I, A Pirate By Any Other Name and flower gettin' lady present for your reading pleasure:

Time to Adjust

Ever since their arrival in Pete's world, the Doctor had been a bit edgy.

Normally she would expect that. Rose remembered that long taxi ride, all the way to the airport (because her dad was busy taking care of Tony and couldn't come get them) where they both sat and there was an infinite amount of space between them. She'd dropped his hand not moments after the TARDIS was gone. It was too much, thinking about her Doctor out there, forever and always alone. Well, maybe not always alone, but he'd never be with her again.

There was also the snogging in the kitchen of the zeppelin Pete sent for them, but that was another thing entirely.

He settled into her life so perfectly; he slept only a bedroom away from hers, in the Tyler mansion, he went to Torchwood with her every day, he cooked her breakfast and hugged her and held her hand and was brilliant. She realized that she needed him desperately, and that there was nothing she could do for her other Doctor, alone in a different universe. She had her Doctor, and it was as good as it would get.

That's why she was so concerned, wandering the different levels of Torchwood. She hadn't seen him for hours—usually he followed her around with a lost puppy expression on his face, and when he wasn't with her there was always a wake of chaos that she could follow to track him down. He liked to spend time in Social Relations, but when she checked Abby assured her that he hadn't shown up all day. There was no word from the main offices, no explosions from Weapons, and no loud complaints from the conference rooms.

Something was definitely amiss.

Unbeknownst to anyone, the Doctor had crept up to one of the lesser-used lobbies on one of the upper levels. He hummed an old Gallifreyian lullaby to himself as he made himself a cup of tea, his nimble fingers moving quickly across the counter. His mind buzzed with countless memories he knew were both his and not his. It was times like these he needed to slip away and just think.

He wandered over to the large window that took up most of one wall of the room and looked out over Cardiff. Except that it wasn't Cardiff. Well, it was, but it was the other Cardiff. A parallel Cardiff. Just like he was the other Doctor, a parallel Doctor in the other universe, a parallel universe. But this universe had Rose. He had Rose. Didn't that make him the lucky one?

He sighed. Rose was worried about him.

She hadn't said it, not in so many words, but the Doctor could tell she was. He could feel it in her desperate kiss on Pete's zepplin, in the way she held on to him tightly when they hugged, and when she squeezed his hand just a little bit harder when they held hands, as if to keep him grounded and to tell him he was not going anywhere. He sighed again and ran his free hand through his hair. Of course he wasn't going anywhere. This Doctor didn't have a TARDIS. He was trapped. Earth-bound. Doomed to live out the rest of his mortal days in Cardiff. But he had Rose and a chance to live a life he never thought possible. And wasn't that just brilliant?

Abruptly he turned away from the window and walked quickly back in the room. His tea sloshed over the sides of his cup and burned his fingers, but he barely noticed. He felt restless and cagey and he needed to think. He wanted nothing more than to be at home with Rose, curled up on his big blue bed, in the room they had designed to look like the inside of the TARDIS. He would hold her and she would melt into him, giving him that soft, sleepy smile he loved so much. Then they would reminisce about their travels and he would tell her about his early days of adventure. Rose would hold his hand lightly in her lap, gently playing with his fingers and absentmindedly tracing patterns on his palm. It would be perfect.

But Rose was working now. She didn't have time to run away and hide in his room all day. It was a funny notion to the Doctor: running out of time. Funny that he had lived over nine hundred years knowing that all things someday die, experiencing it over and over but somehow still surviving. And now he really would die. Probably not soon, but still he would die. The knowledge was driving him crazy like it never had before.

Suddenly the Doctor heard the sound of footsteps and conversation outside the door. He froze. He didn't want to be found, not yet. Rose still had a whole half a day of work left and he wanted to be alone, to think. He glanced around the room, his warm brown eyes falling on a coat cupboard in the corner. Perfect. Holding his cup of tea to his chest as if it were the most important thing in the world, he carefully pulled open the cupboard door and stepped inside. It was a tight fit, since no one but the Time Lords had discovered the science of "bigger on the inside," but it was cozy. He leaned back into the wall of the cupboard and bent his knees, his cup of tea sitting lighting on his stomach. He pulled the door shut and let the darkness surround him, and then he let his mind drift away among the stars.

After a quick trip to Pete's office and checking in with Mickey and Jake, Rose headed up even further. There were some disused rooms up on the higher floors, and a few being redone to make space for new training facilities. She tried to ignore the tingling creeping up her spine as she passed the plastic sheeting, so similar to what she'd seen in the other Torchwood, blanketing the Cyberman's hiding spot. Of course, there weren't any Cybermen in this world; Torchwood had seen to that.

Was the Doctor growing discontent with this world? Rose was afraid that too much time planet-bound was going to drive him crazy. She'd told herself over and over that she had to understand if he decided he wanted to go traveling a few months, if he left her in the dust to pick up the pieces of her broken heart. It was only a matter of time, really, before the cabin fever got to him and he would have to leave.

Her heart thrummed wildly, the panicky feeling she'd constantly tried to fight taking over. No, he wouldn't leave without her, would he? Of course he wouldn't... but it was odd that she hadn't seen him. The only other time she'd ever lost him had been at the supermarket (and that was only because he'd been entranced by the hair care store next to the supermarket and slipped away to go browse the hair gels and waxes). There had to be a plausible reason for him to be gone. He was happy. They were happy, in their TARDIS-themed bedroom with the radiator that even sounded a little TARDIS-y, the ones that was bound to break and didn't work that well, but Rose refused to let Pete replace it. They were happy.

She broke into a run on the twentieth floor, feet hammering on the stairs as loudly as the blood pounding in her ears. There were only the lobbies at the top few floors left, and a lot of storage space. He had to be up there somewhere. Images of him being kidnapped by aliens, by the Hoix and Weevils that lived in the sewers like rats, plagued her. It was terrifying to think that at any moment she could lose this Doctor. That had always been possible, with the Time Lord one, but at least she knew that the worst would be him changing his face. Her death never scared her, but the very idea that one day the Doctor would die made her feel sick.

The first few rooms were empty -save one couple that were more interested in each other than her-but she skidded to a stop at a shut door. Maybe he was just experimenting up here in peace, where the weapons experts wouldn't yell at him for fiddling with alien tech. She tried to door, and found it unlocked.

"Doctor?" she called, her voice trembling despite herself. She was only a few steps in when she realized there was no way he could be in here, just a row of cabinets, and an empty couch. Biting back tears, she dropped onto it and muffled a sob.

At the sound of his name, the Doctor straightened up, instantly alert. It was Rose, and her voice was trembling. Swallowing hard, he waited for her to call for him again. Instead, he heard a disappointed sigh, shuffling feet, and the soft whump of someone sitting down on the couch. His brow furrowed. He heard her muffled sob, and his single heart clenched painfully in his chest.

Should he go out to her? Did she want him there? Rose tried to hide her worry. What if she wanted to hide her tears too? The muffled sob turned into a second and third sob, and the Doctor heard another soft whump as Rose apparently threw herself down on the couch. He shifted uncomfortably. Was he the reason for her tears?

He stared down into his half-empty tea cup, bits of light shining in from the crack between the cupboard's doors reflected in its muddy brown water. He stared at it intensely, as though it might give him the answers he sought. Wasn't tea supposed to fix everything? Rose's muffled sobs increased and the Doctor stared morosely into the cup. His mind was completely blank. He wasn't good with tears. Crying women and girls were uncharted territory unlike any other. Give him a Sontaran or Cyberman or even a Dalek any day.

He shifted again, a feeling of guilt welling up inside him. He hadn't been hiding long, or at least he didn't think he had been. So why was Rose crying? Maybe she missed the Doctor. The real Doctor. Maybe he just wasn't good enough. He wiggled his nose, sniffing a little. Great, was he going to start crying too? Was this how humans worked? He didn't remember crying often as the other Doctor.

Pressure started to build up in his nose and he felt a tickling sensation. The Doctor blinked. He wasn't going to cry. He was going to—ACHOO!

Of course he wasn't anywhere. No one was there to see her cry, so she let hot tears spill down her face as she let out a desperate wail and lay down on the couch. He was gone. He left.

She kept telling herself over and over that, rationally, he wouldn't just up and leave. Maybe he stole Pete's keys to the zeppelin and went to see Big Ben or maybe went for a trip to Belgium for the chocolate and waffles. Maybe he was just wandering and she hadn't run into him yet.

Pent-up tears welled in her eyes anyway. She was under far too much stress, constantly worrying about the Doctor and trying to defend the Earth at the same time. She wasn't sure who she could talk to about it-the Doctor was out of the question since he had enough to deal with, and her mum and Pete were so busy with little Tony.

She was resolving to just stay curled up on the couch for the rest of her work day when there was a quiet little noise from somewhere in the room. She stilled for a moment, trying and failing to muffle her sobs.

"ACHOOOOO!"

"Who's that?!" She leaped from the couch, horrified at the idea that one of her coworkers had heard her crying. She had to keep a good face in front of them.

It was coming from the cabinet. She edged forward, opening it and jumping back into a defensive stance. Instead of an enemy or coworker, she was face to face with the Doctor. He was cradling a cup of tea to his chest and looking up at her sheepishly. "I was taking a tea break...?"

"Doctor?" Rose sputtered in shock. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. Looking sheepish, the Doctor pulled his lean frame out of the cupboard. Not sure what to do with his now cold cup of tea, he shrugged and carefully set it back in the cupboard. He might want to come back later. "Doctor!" Rose finally managed to say, his name coming out in a sort of strangled gasp.

"I…" The Doctor's sentence was cut off by Rose launching herself at him and enveloping him in a tight hug.

"Oh you silly, silly man," she breathed. "I thought you left me. I thought…" She hugged him tighter.

The Doctor's brow furrowed and he frowned. "Left you?" he questioned.

Suddenly Rose released him and stepped back, arms folded over her chest. Her relived smile twisted into a frown. "Yes, left," she said angrily. "I had no idea where you were, neither did anyone else! You've been restless, Doctor, I know it, and it's just…any minute I expect you to up and run away!" Her arms dropped from her chest and she turned away to brush away those damned tears that were welling up again.

The Doctor stood there, flexing his fingers idly. He was shocked to the core. Rose thought he would leave her?

Rose sighed and her voice wobbled a bit, but no tears fell. "You're a traveler; you've always been a traveler. I know these past few months have been a difficult change for you." She laughed bitterly. "You told me once you don't do domestic. I guess I'd hoped you'd be different this time around." She fell silent and stared out the window.

The Doctor was speechless. He didn't know what to say. He had no idea Rose was this worried about him. He knew she was worried, sure, but she thought he was restless and tired of her? That he would one day just up and leave? He couldn't believe it.

"No, that's not true," Rose said suddenly, breaking through his thoughts. The Doctor panicked for a moment. Had he said that out loud? But Rose's next sentence dispelled those thoughts. "I don't want you to change." She turned around to face him. "That restless energy, that insatiable curiosity of yours that forever urges you onwards is what makes you the Doctor. And I wouldn't change that for the world." The Doctor must have made a face because Rose gave him a half smile and added, "This world or the other."

The Doctor tugged on his ear lobe. "I would never leave you Rose," he said finally.

Rose smiled. "I know you wouldn't. It just…I worry sometimes. I want you to be happy."

I am happy," the Doctor said. Rose shook her head sadly.

"This place is giving you cabin fever and you know it. You miss her."

The Doctor's head snapped up. "Her?"

"The TARDIS. Don't try and play coy with me, Doctor. I know you too well for that." Rose crossed her arms again. The Doctor chuckled.

"That you do, Rose Tyler. That you do."

"So, are you going to...?" She let the words trail off. "Maybe you could take a little time off work—well, destroying the weapons department—and go somewhere. Just to get the feel of traveling back."

"That's not why I came up here," he told her. Rose's obvious fear and repressed tears were making him more nervous by the minute. Yes, he'd just told her he wouldn't leave, but obviously she was having a hard time believing it. "It just got a bit... human down there. I just wanted to think."

"In a cupboard?"

"Wellll..." he looked rather guilty. "I heard talking, didn't want to be found."

"Oh." She averted her eyes, trying to ignore the piercing pain in her chest. "I'll leave you to enjoy your tea, then. Just glad to know that you're okay."

Rose turned before he could see her cry again. It was bad enough, he'd been in that cabinet while she completely broke down. He had far too much to deal with; he didn't need her to take care of as well. She could still remembered the first few nights when he'd cried out in his sleep, dreaming of Gallifrey and the TARDIS and the Time War. After a week of it she'd finally decided to stay with him at night. It'd seemed to help.

"Rose, you don't have to leave." He sounded so lonely, so pleading.

She didn't turn, just slowed a little. "No, s'fine, I have to go work anyway."

"Don't." A hand-a warm one, so human compared to the alien Timelord she'd once known-slipped into her and forced her to face him. The Doctor took in her expression, the dampness that coated her cheeks. "They can manage without you for a few hours."

She found herself being led to the couch, where the Doctor pulled her onto his lap. She sighed, head dropping heavily on his chest. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" A hand ghosted along her back, making soothing circular motions.

She gulped, choking down a sob. "You shouldn't have to deal with this, there's so much wrong already, I-"

"You shouldn't have to be alone."

She was stunned, blinking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "I'm not alone. I have you."

"No, not like that," he said. "You don't have to act like nothing touches you, all the time. I've dealt with the memories of Gallifrey and the Time War for decades—well, it feels like I have—and I still can. Being human, being here with you makes it easier. You don't have to coddle me and worry about me so much. Yeah, I miss the TARDIS, the adventures, time and space and aliens. But... stuck here with you, that's not so bad. In fact, Rose Tyler, it's brilliant."

She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing so tightly that he made a little alarmed noise and she remembered that Torchwood training had made her a lot stronger than she used to be. She loosened her hold marginally, pulling back her head to look at him. "I love you."

"I love you too." His lips ghosted gently across her face for a moment, leaving little butterfly kisses on her cheeks. "So, what do you say to ditching work?"

"I say allons-y," she giggled. "Where we off to?"

He gently slid her onto the couch, going across the room for his tea. "I think right here is fantastic, don't you? Cozy room, soft couch, and a great view of Cardiff."

He motioned for her to move over, sitting next to her and then pulling her sideways so her head rested against his chest and she was almost lying down on top of him. Eyes closed, she heard a slurping noise above her and grinned. "It is nice here."

An arm slid behind her back, lifting her up. Rose opened her eyes as the Doctor gently placed the cup of tea in her hands. It smelled like chamomile—he had probably nicked it from Linda. "Free radicals and tannins," he told her.

"Just what I need." She sipped it, bathing in the comfort, the feel of the Doctor holding her.

He dipped his head down, burying his nose in her hair, luxuriating in her sweet smell and the content smile on her face. "So, want to hear a story? I've got a good one, about the fifteenth century and banana daiquiris."

She handed the tea back to him, eyelids fluttered shut as her body melted into his. "That would be perfect."

Just as Rose had relaxed against the warm body of the Doctor, a shrill, piercing siren cut through the air. "Alert: Code Red. All personnel report to their stations immediately. Alert: Code Red. All personnel..."

Rose leapt from the Doctor's arms, sending her tea flying to the floor where it shattered into a thousand pieces and splashed tea everywhere. She barely noticed. Her face contorted into a worried frown, one the Doctor recognized easily by now. She but her lip and looked down at him. "I'm really sorry, Doctor. Guess that story will have to wait."

He shrugged and lifted himself easily from the couch. Rose looked at him questioningly and he quirked an eyebrow. "What? You didn't think I was going to sit back and let you have all the fun now, did you? Come on! This is a Code Red!"

Rose beamed at him and held out her hand. The Doctor took it and squeezed it tight. "Well then," said Rose with a grin. "Let's go save the world...again!"

"Allons-y!" cried the Doctor, and together he and Rose dashed out of the room and down the hallway.

They tore down the stairs, both just barely keeping from twisting their ankles in haste. Rose wished that they hadn't gone up so far; twenty flights were a little excessive to run down, especially if whatever was wrong involved more running. But, of course, they'd had a lot of practice.

Rose slowed when she reached the first floor. The Doctor had been lagging a bit, which was odd, especially since he was usually so keen to drag her headlong into trouble. Well, the alien Doctor. This one hadn't actually ever gone on any missions before; she wondered if he was afraid now that he was mortal.

"Commander Tyler!"

"Yes, Officer Rhys?" Rose turned to face Nathan, one of the younger officers at Torchwood. "What's the situation?"

"Sontarans?" the Doctor volunteered a bit breathlessly. "Haven't seen any around here yet, which is odd. I knew they were planning something!"

"Sontarans?" Nathan shook his head. "No, sir, just Weevils. They've tunneled into the basement of an old warehouse, startled a few locals."

Rose nodded. "Locals" probably meant the various homeless people that lived around Torchwood. She hated how they were always the first to be alien bait, unprotected in the alleys. "Right, dispatch a team. We'll be there shortly."

Nathan saluted as he walked off, and Rose pulled the Doctor in the direction of the weapons room. "C'mon, let's go!"

"No guns," he said firmly.

"Stun guns," she amended. "Or one of those ones you tried to modify so it was safe."

"Welllllll, I would go in there with you, but due to certain circumstances and an accident in which I had no part—"

"You got banned?"

"I got banned," he admitted, like a five-year-old sheepishly handing over a report card covered in all C's and D's.

She sighed. "All right, I'll be back. And no, you don't have to have a gun."

He waited patiently, flipping his homemade sonic screwdriver back and forth. He's managed to sneak bits of alien technology from the labs—useless stuff, things they didn't need—and after nearly a month finished it. It doesn't by any means have the range of his old one, but it's handy and it unlocks most doors.

"Here we are, then." Rose appeared with a stun gun, waving to the woman inside the weapons room. "You ready?"

"Always." He gave her that grin, the one that was just a bit maniacal, and they charged out the doors of Torchwood like an entire army was following them (but of course there could be, the Doctor reasoned, if anyone found out about the modifications he made to the coffee machine in the break room).

It was only a short run away from Torchwood to get to the warehouse, but the Doctor was lagging again. Rose finally let go of his hand to dash ahead into the warehouse at the sound of screams.

Luckily the team she'd ordered for had already dispatched of most of the Weevils except two. She and the Doctor managed to scare off the last two. She was slowing her pace—they'd run out of the warehouse, herding refugees and homeless people with them—when she heard him gasping behind her. "Doctor?"

He waved a careless hand at her. "It's nothing!" he wheezed, trying to act nonchalant and failing. "I'm fine!" Rose frowned when she noticed he was breathing quite heavily. The old Doctor never seemed so much as winded after their frantic sprints. She slowed completely down and returned to the Doctor's side.

"It doesn't sound like nothing," she sat, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, we'll rest a bit."

"No!" the Doctor said a bit petulantly. He had a frustrated and slightly sulky look on his face, reminding Rose of a stubborn five year old. He was still breathing heavily, and realization dawned on Rose. He was out of breath. The Doctor was out of breath from running, and he didn't know how to deal with it. She smiled a bit.

"Ah, blast these human lungs!" he cried out, finally doubling over. Rose carefully arranged her features to hide any hint of a smile, and gently pulled the Doctor back into a standing position.

"Here, stand up and put your arms over your head. It will open your lungs more," she coached.

"How do you humans make it without a respiratory bypass system?" the Doctor said in a suspiciously whiny tone.

"Well, we just have to get in shape and train our bodies to be able to run long distances like these," she said. The Doctor stared at her, one eyebrow raised, and suddenly his eyes widened comically and his hands ran through his wild hair.

"This is how you felt when I dragged you along, wasn't it?" he cried. Rose opened her mouth to answer, but the Doctor suddenly dropped his hands and threw his arms around her, enveloping her in a huge hug that was only slightly spoiled by the Doctor's ragged breath. "Oh Rose Tyler, you are brilliant," he said beaming at her. Rose grinned, seeing an apologetic and admiring look in his warm eyes, one that clearly said I'm sorry I dragged you along those times when you were breathless, will you please forgive me?

"And so are you, Doctor," she said. Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Even if you can't manage yet without a respiratory bypass system." The Doctor made a face and Rose laughed. He pulled out of her embrace.

"Wellll, I can learn, can't I?" he said with a shrug. He pulled on his ear lobe and looked up at the sky, lost in thought.

"You certainly can," Rose said, sliding her hand in his. "And I know just the place to start!"

"Oh?" the Doctor asked, his curiosity piqued.

"How do you feel about mountains, Doctor?" Rose said, her eyes alight with excitement.

"I've seen a fair few in my time," he said casually. Rose grinned.

"I've got a friend who has this little villa in the Italian countryside, lots of winding paths, beautiful wilderness, friendly locals―why don't we run away, spend some time together―and we'll get you in shape."

The Doctor looked giddy. "Right now? What about those Weevils?"

Rose shrugged. "Torchwood can handle them. Besides, I'd say I'm due for a vacation and you for an adventure. We'll run home, grab a few things, and just go. We can tell them when we get there. What do you say, Doctor?"

He gave Rose's hand a squeeze and grinned that grin that was just a bit maniacal. Involuntarily, Rose's heart skipped a beat and her breathing sped up. "What are we waiting for, Rose Tyler? Allons-y!"

Author Note 2: So did you like it? Tell us in a review! And then go read some of flower gettin lady's other Doctor Who fics, because they are fantastic! Brilliant, even.