Hey guys, new story! I haven't been around in a while, so I sincerely hope you guys like it... I'm thinking of adding a smut chapter after this, just for kicks, but I'm not sure. Let me know if or if not you'd like one!

I don't own Doctor Who.

PLEASE REVIEW! I live off of them :)

Rose Tyler did not have opportunities like this often. In fact, she couldn't recall the last time she'd gone walking aimlessly through the TARDIS. She'd looked for the library once, wanting to learn more about the mysterious Time Lord she was travelling with, but had been whisked away by the very entity she was trying to research before she found it.

This time, Rose had no goal.

It was comforting to walk through the TARDIS… to have the ship laid out before her; an endless expanse of curious rooms and lost spaces. As the blonde passed a door of beautiful stained glass whereupon multiple thick, leather-bound tomes were kept along with various candles and silks, Rose found herself wondering if the Doctor knew what was in half of these rooms.

He probably did. He probably wanted to forget.

Turning a corner, the young woman paused as she saw a room whose door was wide open. When she'd started walking, Rose had promised herself that she'd do her absolute best to respect the Doctor's privacy. After all, she was his guest… Though that hadn't stopped her from peeking into several of the rooms she'd come across. She had to hand it to the Time Lord; he never got rid of anything.

Stepping towards the open room warily, Rose poked her head inside, eyes immediately widening upon seeing the contents of the large space.

It was the biggest wardrobe she'd ever seen.

A large spiral staircase curled both up and downwards, leading to multiple floors bursting with different articles of clothing. There was clothing from every year, every era, every point in time. Rose 'oohed' over the multiple period gowns he'd collected, smirking at the male equivalents he also had in his arsenal. She'd pay to see the Doctor dressed in tights.

Ever curious, the blonde made her way up the staircase, passing floors filled with racks upon racks of strange items: hats, scarves, feather boas of various colours, jackets, trousers, shoes … pants. She'd spent more time than strictly necessary looking at his selection of underwear with raised brows; it wasn't that she couldn't imagine the Doctor in leopard print undies… she just wasn't entirely sure she wanted to.

Then came the final floor. The young woman proceeded with caution as she had done with the others, though this level felt special somehow. There weren't as many racks here. Running her fingers along a row of clothing, Rose stopped towards near the beginning of the first rack. There had been the same black suits and oddly coloured ones that had been present on past floors, but this striped scarf… it was enormous. She'd have to wrap it loosely around her neck at least twice, and even then it might risk touching the floor. There was a hat on the shelf above it as well, and she'd passed a recorder before that. Continuing to walk, Rose spied a crème and red suit, a patchwork jacket and a multi-coloured umbrella, as well as one with a question mark as a handle. Pausing, the blonde also noticed a sweater-vest with the same question marks adorning it. She smiled to herself as she ran her hands over the soft fabric, shaking her head in amusement: "Doctor Who?"

She passed a gorgeous black jacket, another shirt, vest and cravat, a beautiful pocket watch, a leather jacket-

Rose's hand froze on the material of the latter, fingers digging into the garment as her breath hitched. This was his. I mean, everything in this room was his, but he used to wear the jacket all the time, before. It was his. Swallowing thickly, the blonde continued on shakily, finding his shirts and jeans and shoes close by. Turning slowly, Rose Tyler looked back at the rack of clothing, a lump in her throat. These were his. Not the things that he'd wear every once in a while, or when the occasion demanded, but his. These were the clothes that he'd wear whenever he had a choice.

The Doctor's usual brown and blue suits were not on this rack. Rose turned, spotting them on an apparatus close to a door on the far side of the room. His shirts and ties were there as well, as were a myriad of Converse.

Which meant that the items on this rack belonged to his other faces.

Rose bit her lip, sorely tempted to slip on his leather jacket and breathe the material in. She forced herself to walk on, however, knowing that dwelling on the past wouldn't bring him back. He was a new man, now. He wore different clothes, different shoes, had a different smile. That was all right. This new man was different and wonderful in ways his other facet had not been.

And yet in so many ways he was the same.

The same selflessness, kindness, and angst. The same war waging on inside of him, day after day… The same pain. Rose walked towards the far wall, noticing a plethora of red garments on the hangers there. She touched one, the soft material like velvet beneath her fingertips. Faltering for only a moment, the young woman slid one garment off the hanger, too curious for her own good.

These clothes felt special. Even more special than the others.

Quickly, she slid the robe on. Walking over to a mirror as she did, the fabric dragged on the floor behind her. Rose froze when she saw herself: a human mass of red and gold. Despite the fact that she was practically drowning in the surplus of material, the young woman adored the piece. She looked at herself from different angles at least half a dozen times, letting her mind run away with fantasies she'd otherwise never dare bring to her conscious state.

A creak from behind brought Rose out of her reverie and the blonde whirled around, eyes wide as they met the Doctor's. "I- I was just- Sorry," she stammered, "Sorry."

"You know, those are official robes."

"I- Sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Official male robes, to be more precise. Back when I was slightly… broader."

She was silent as he stepped near a rack and took out a hanger upon which hung more articles in gold and deep red. This ensemble seemed smaller and thinner, and had no robe: just a long top, trousers and a belt. Rose froze. "I- " She had no words. Clothing from Gallifrey? Traditional clothing from Gallifrey? This was huge. This was… monumental.

This was vulnerability.

Of his part, the Doctor wasn't quite sure what had made him so open to her wearing the skeletons in his closet. But when he'd seen her looking at herself, swimming in the robe like a child playing dress up, he couldn't resist the temptation to see her in something that fit, if only to delude himself further.

Because the Doctor had many secrets. Some were big, some were small… Some meant absolutely nothing at all. One of the things he kept to himself was the reason he constantly chose human companions. In all honesty, sometimes the species was ridiculous: wonderful, but absolutely bonkers. And though he loved their curiosity and passion overall stupidity, he, at some point, admitted to himself that though valid, these qualities were not why he craved their companionship.

It was the aesthetic. The human being's physical appearance was identical to that of a Time Lord. And sometimes, when he was feeling particularly lonely or homesick, he'd look at his companion and delude himself, if only for a moment, that he wasn't truly alone.

The Time Lord gave Rose the garments and smiled at her brilliantly as she looked at him, slightly concerned. A nod was all she got in response, and the blonde walked behind a clothing rack to change.

She walked out precisely three minutes later, thought to the alien, those minutes lasted an hour. He was nervous. More nervous than he probably had the right to be, but nervous nonetheless.

What if they didn't fit her?

What if she hated them?

Rose's heart was pounding. The clothes fit, that wasn't the problem… She just hoped she looked good. The young woman bounded in out from behind the rack, doing a slight turn for him as she smiled hesitantly. The Doctor's eyes widened and Rose bit her lip.

That could either be very good, or very bad.

"You look beautiful," He murmured, eyes glued to her. He forgot himself for only a moment before smirking. "…For a human pretending to be a Time Lord, of course."

Very good, then.

The blonde's cheeks flushed pink as she grinned, sidling up to him and smoothing the lapels of his suit. "Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself… I mean, for a Time Lord pretending to be a human."

"Right." The Doctor gave a half smile, looking down at his shoes for only moment before fixing his eyes on her again. Rose frowned. "Hey, what's wrong?" But the Time Lord merely looked at her, clad in red and gold. She could have been one of his people, dressed like that. She spoke: "I can take them off-"

He shook his head, hands stuffed into his pockets as he inhaled deeply. "No. I- I want you to wear them." He nudged her playfully. "Go on."

She stepped away from him hesitantly, slow to step in front of the mirror not only due to her own insecurities, but for his sake as well. For theirs. This was as terrifying as it was exciting.

She could have been from Gallifrey, looking like that. It was so easy to pretend with her on a normal day… But dressed as one of his people? It was instinct. She looked perfect in gold and red; the shirt and trouser set fit surprisingly well.

Watching her was bittersweet.

The Doctor walked towards his companion, resting his chin on her shoulder .He couldn't help himself, the loneliness too much to bear. He was weak. Rose stared at her reflection, entranced. "You look Time Lord," He said softly, a hand resting on her hip.

Time Lord.

She, Rose Tyler, looked Time Lord. And not just in the same kind of basic appearance way… in every physical way. Looking at her alien through the mirror, the blonde placed her hand on top of his. "Thank you."

"No, thank you."

"Any time," she replied, "these clothes are beautiful."

He shrugged against her. "Didn't exactly have the best fashion sense, Time Lords. We excelled in other areas."

"Well, I love it."

Well, I love you in it. Those words were at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them, the letters tasting bitter as they slid down his throat. "It suits you," he said instead.

Rose beamed, turning to face him. He didn't move back, causing their bodies to be extremely close. "It's funny," she murmured fondly, "we're both wearing the wrong clothes and yet we look exactly the same."

He smiled bitterly, knowing that though the words were innocent, they meant so much more. If they were the same, there was nothing stopping them from truly being equal partners, from being together as they both wanted. If they were different, well… "We're not the same, Rose."

"Doctor-"

"We're not. You know that."

She turned, his hands moving to rest by his sides as she looked up at him, concerned. Gently, the blonde placed his hands on her waist and shook her head slightly. "I know," she said softly, "I do… But do you? For every difference, there are five similarities."

"Five?"

"You know what I mean," she replied. "We're not as different as you think."

He sighed. "Rose-"

But the blonde wasn't having it. Taking one of his hands, she placed it above her heart, looking at him intensely. "This," she murmured, her own hands going to cover each of his hearts, "is the only real difference I see."

The Doctor looked at her, incredibly close to losing every iota of control he had left. It was too much: the words, the touching, the clothes… everything. If she didn't stop, he wasn't sure what he'd do, but it most definitely wouldn't be in compliance with his rules. "There are so many things," he replied softly, forehead leaning on hers as he tried to find the right words. "You can't even being to understand…" It was hard. Every instinct he had was telling him to throw all caution to the wind and show her just how similar they really were.

Because if he was honest, Rose was right: In every way that mattered, they were the same.

"Then tell me," she replied, fingers tracing his cheeks, "teach me."

"…I can't."

She gave him a sad smile. "Seems to me you're too human for your own good."

He grinned weakly in return… If only his Rose knew how right she was. "I'm sorry-"

Her hands cupped his face as she frowned, effectively silencing him. "Me too." Her heart pounded as she leaned up ever so slightly to give his mouth a light kiss, trying more than anything to convey feelings she could not fathom putting into words.

That was when the dam broke.

It wasn't the action of kissing him: the Doctor had been snogged a thousand times before by several dozen different people… It was what she'd said beforehand. Like she was sorry for all his past suffering, and all the inevitable pain to come. Like even though she knew she could never even begin to understand his burden, she would try to be everything he needed.

Rose spoke as if there was some hope of moving on after every atrocity he'd committed… As if there was redemption and love and happiness after all that.

The young woman pulled away, cheeks red as she looked up at him in a bashful manner, the alien looking down for only a second before pressing his mouth to hers again, all rules be damned. Her fingers ran through his hair while his arms wrapped around her waist.

They were an interesting sight to behold: the Time Lord and the Human, both flesh and bone, both so similar and yet so different in areas that made no difference and all the difference in the world. However, to look upon them; tangled and joined together in an embrace of gold and brown, identifying the Time Lord was difficult.

Was it the being in the Gallifreyan clothes, whose bravery and intuition was nothing short of inspiring? Or was it the being dressed in Earth garb, whose actions demonstrated nothing more human?

At the end of the day, the answer didn't really matter. Because at the end of the day, the two entities were exactly the same in every way that mattered.