Imminence

Rose sat up in bed with a huff. There was no way she was going to sleep tonight; she'd been tossing and turning for nearly two hours, the Beast's words ringing in her ears, the sight of Toby – no, Satan-possessed Toby – flying out of the spaceship after she'd shot the window.

She ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to block out the image. She'd practically shot someone; she'd certainly intended his death by releasing his seatbelt. It made her feel sick, but she knew it had been the right thing – the only thing – to do. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she decided to go and find the Doctor. She needed a hug after the day they'd had, and she suspected that after the traumatic experience of nearly losing the TARDIS, he needed one too.

Rose checked his room, the library, and the kitchen on her way to the console room, just in case. But he was where she'd thought he'd be, sitting in the open doorway of the TARDIS, legs hanging out, staring at the stars.

Absent-mindedly tightening the tie of her dressing gown, Rose crossed the console room, knowing from the way his head tilted slightly that he'd heard her. She settled down next to him and bumped her shoulder against his. "Hey," she murmured.

"Hey." His voice was soft when he replied, and he bumped her shoulder right back. He turned his head to look at her. "Can't sleep?"

She shook her head. He gave her a sad smile and wrapped his arm around her, pressing her against his side. "Me neither," he admitted.

"Can't believe what we nearly lost," she whispered, staring at the beautiful nebula in front of them.

"Hmm?"

"The TARDIS. Space." She sighed. "How could you live a normal life after seeing all this?"

The Doctor hid his smile in the top of her head. When he spoke next, his words were slightly muffled by her hair. "I would be a bit rubbish at it, I think."

"Mmm."

"Oi, you're not supposed to agree!" he laughed.

"Well, you would be," she reasoned, tilting her head back to look at him. He raised his eyebrows and she amended, "After a bit of practice, I'm sure you'd have been fine. But let's face it…same four walls day after day?" She paused, widening her eyes dramatically, before asserting in a sing-song tone, "You'd be so bored."

"I'd still have you to amuse me, though, eh?" he teased.

She turned back to face space. "Course."

His smile faded a little. "Rose?"

She placed her hand on his thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Of course you would."

The Doctor was silent for a few moments, then cleared his throat. "Um, Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"What we were saying, before, on the Sanctuary Base."

Rose felt her cheeks heating up, and was glad he couldn't see. "Oh, hey, don't, um, don't worry about that."

"No, but…"

"Let's just forget about that, yeah? I mean, it's fine, now, we've got the TARDIS back, we don't need to really analyse what would have happened if we hadn't."

She felt the Doctor give a small nod of acknowledgement, his chin brushing her temple. She swallowed thickly.

"Also," he said, after a short period of silence, "I want to reiterate that you needn't worry about what the Beast said. It was wrong. Obviously."

"It was a prophecy," she said quietly.

"No," insisted the Doctor. "No, it wasn't. You are not going to die. I won't let you."

"Will someday."

"Stop it."

"Okay."

They went back to silence for a few minutes. "What's this one called?" Rose asked, gesturing at the nebula.

"The Boomerang Nebula."

"Looks like a bow-tie to me," she snorted.

"It's also known as that, yes."

"It's cool."

"It is," he agreed, with a chuckle.

"Not my favourite, though. I like the Helix one."

"Yes."

"What's your favourite?"

"My favourite nebula?"

"Mmhmm."

He bent his head, and she felt him nudge his nose against her temple. "The Rosette Nebula, of course."

"Sweet-talker," she giggled.

"Weelll. It is beautiful."

"My bum's going numb," she murmured thoughtfully.

He laughed, dropping his arm from her shoulders. "Do you want to leave? Get some sleep?"

"No, just need to move position," Rose smiled. She shifted, then, leaning against the other side of the doorframe and bringing one leg up, so that she was turned to face his side. It meant that she had to relinquish his hold, his touch, but she wanted to talk to him properly, and check his expressions.

He copied her manoeuvre, so that they were sitting either side of the doorway, heads tilted against the wood, watching each other. She was wearing pyjama shorts, so her bare leg was pressed partially against his pinstripe-suited one; she only realised she had been staring at the place their bent legs touched when she glanced up to see him arching an eyebrow at her. She swiftly ignored the questioning look, and ploughed ahead with her own query.

"Ida mentioned that you'd said my name."

His eyes widened. "Ah. Yes, I did."

"Before you fell. Or jumped; whichever."

"Yeah." He reached up to tug on one ear.

Rose bit her lip, but said nothing further. She was evidently waiting for him to elaborate.

"Oh, right," he realised, "Well, the thing was, I was going to tell her to give you message. Just in case."

Rose nodded. "Right."

He swallowed and held her gaze intently. "But then I realised that you knew, anyway, and it would – it would be wrong, somehow, to have Ida…say it. To you. Out loud."

"Or, kind of poignant," Rose suggested, her heart beating hard against her ribs.

"I don't think you would've really wanted to hear that if I'd died," he disagreed softly.

"Are you joking?"

"Well, it's hardly romantic if I'm not around to see your reaction. Not around to…hear it back."

Rose shivered, fairly confident now, under the intensity of his gaze and the fervency of his words, that she did indeed know what he had wanted to say. She was also fairly confident that he wouldn't actually directly speak the words to her, not tonight; maybe not at all.

"Are you cold?" he murmured.

"No."

"Okay."

"So." Her mind was racing right along with her heart. Even if he wasn't going to say it - which was okay, because she wasn't going to say it either – maybe he would tell her in another way. Her eyes scanned over his tense muscles, his burning eyes, the way his hands were curled into fists of restraint. She smiled. She recognised this. She could deal with this, even if they had sworn, after last time, that it wouldn't happen again.

"Mmm."

"Near death experience of the day done and dusted," she said slowly. "Reunion happened. Saved the day, said our goodbyes, end-of-adventure tea in the kitchen."

"Good summary of events," he whispered.

She nodded distractedly, her eyes on his lips now. "At any point during all of that, did you think…want…"

She couldn't finish her sentence, but he answered anyway, a bit breathless. "Yes."

"Which bit?"

"All."

"Okay," she breathed out roughly.

"To be fair, I was also thinking about doing it before the near-death experience, too," he confessed quietly.

"Adrenaline increases the urgency, though," she pointed out. "That's what you said, last time."

That statement sent a tingle down his spine. He licked his lips absently. "Yeah, and that's why we agreed not to let it happen again."

"We've been very good about it, too," she said carefully, testing the waters. Her eyes flickered down his body for a quick moment, before meeting his gaze again. "I mean, it's only because of the extreme circumstances of today that we're even having this…" She floundered for the right phrase.

"Perfectly rational conversation," he finished for her.

"Exactly."

"Yeah."

"Not like it's just been any other day."

"I agree."

"Not like all the rules have to be applied all the time."

"Especially not after such a…difficult experience."

"Exactly," Rose said again.

"I mean really," he continued, his eyes dancing with something a lot like mischief. "Rules are meant to be…crept around, sometimes. If the circumstances call for it."

"Because there's always cause for a…hmm, what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Um…" He paused, thinking. "Loophole?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "A loophole."

"And meeting the Devil is a pretty good loophole. In fact, turning it into a loophole is possibly the only good thing to come out of the situation."

"And we must always, always look for the positives, especially after…dark times."

"A spark of hope, and light," he murmured, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile. "That's you all over." He watched her fiddle nervously with the tie of her dressing gown. He leant forwards slightly, so that he could reach it, grip the soft fabric in his hand, and tug her over to him. She moved willingly.

On her knees, lips hovering just a few inches away from his, she whispered, "Twice is okay. Twice is good. We can justify this happening twice."

"Yeah. We don't have to even acknowledge that this is a this until time number three."

"Not that we'll get to time number three."

"Because once is an accident, twice is an oversight, and three times is…?"

"Inexcusable," she concluded.

"Best make time number two worth it, then," he grinned.

"God, yeah," she grinned back, and he helped her punctuate her reply by closing the space between their mouths.