Thank you, everyone, for reading this fic so far. I really struggled to think of how to end this, and while it might not be the greatest ever, I do hope it's satisfactory. For those of you who are interested, between the suggestions I've received regarding how the Doctor finds out about Rose's magic, and the ideas I've had after all this time thinking about it, I thought it was a shame that I could only choose one. So, I have an extra chapter in the works titled "8 Times the Doctor Could Have Discovered Rose's Secret", most of which take place during, or in the after math of, an actual episode.

Here I'll stand, and here I'll stay.
Let the storm rage on.

[…] The cold never bothered me anyway…
- Frozen, "Let It Go"

The Doctor notices. Of course he does. He notices everything about Rose.

So he is grudgingly impressed at just how long it takes him to realize that Rose has a secret, and even more impressed that he has not yet been able to discover what it is. When (if) she slips, it is never enough for him to solve the mystery (because he cannot say which hints are related, nor what the relation might be), although he suspects it has something to do with the cold.

The first instance is recalled in hindsight. He has been so long alone, that he is out of practice when it comes to considering the needs of a human companion. A Time Lord's average body temperature is a few degrees cooler than that of a human, and so cooler temperatures feel most comfortable to him (although he can, of course, adjust his body temperature as necessary; superior Time Lord physiology, him). It is three days after Rose begins traveling with him that he realizes that he has not readjusted the interior temperature of the TARDIS to accommodate the (his) fragile ape.

He does so immediately, mentally castigating himself for his thoughtlessness (what if this one little thing is just too much on top of everything else; he cannot lose her) and grumbling that she chooses now to refrain from voicing an opinion.

She mock-glowers at the Doctor when he says the last bit out loud, but she cannot keep a straight face for very long and ends up grinning.

"'S fine," she reassures him, shrugging off his almost-apologies. "The cold doesn't bother me. I didn't really notice."

He does not realize just how true this is until later (he thinks he probably imagines her initial, brief look of alarm).

The Doctor notices, eventually, that while she tends to ask for beaches and tropical weather, many of what he judges to be her favorite places are wintry and frozen.

Not that she is ever dissatisfied with where he takes her, and she does enjoy the sun and the heat, as long as they are not trekking through a desert. Part of the reason he loves traveling with her is to see the universe through her eyes. No matter where they end up, she always looks around with wonder, sees beauty where he would see only darkness. She does not generally admit to favorite planets or cities (instead referring to new friends, favorite views, or best foods), but he can see the way she lights up and almost glows with awe. Although she has not said as much, Woman Wept, the Doctor knows, is one of her favorite planets.

He wonders why she tries to hide it. Or, not necessarily hide it (her love of winter places), but downplay it. Deflect.

The cold doesn't bother me.

The Doctor finds himself thinking more on this sentiment after a misadventure on Denmark (the planet). A business mogul's teenage daughter is being held ransom by an assassin who wants revenge for some reason or other. The Doctor doesn't get into the domestics, and the reasons do not appear all that relevant to her rescue. The time limit is almost up, and he and Rose are racing to find out where she is being kept before she dies. The city is cut through by a river with them on the wrong shore, the nearest bridge has been destroyed by a bomb, which they hope means that they are in the right area, and they do not know how many helpers the captor might have.

Also, the Doctor suspects that the daughter is actually tied to one of the piers, which means that they will have to worry about death by hypothermia and exposure anyway, and the tide is coming in.

Did he mention that it is the dead of winter, and ice floes bob upon the water?

Luckily, this part of the river is narrow, and filled with anchored boats.

"Doctor, do you even know which pier? And how are we going to get across in time?" Rose pants as they run hand in hand.

"Oh, I'm full of ideas, me," he says with a manic grin, directing her to a specific dock. The collection of boats bob in the water, most of them close enough to easily leap from one to the next. He sends Rose across first, following right behind her, as he is better equipped to adjust to the uneven and violent rocking her passage creates. They find their rhythm quickly, and his awareness drifts, focuses inward on the plans that flicker through his mind.

It therefore comes as a bit of nasty shock to hear a sudden yelp and splash as his companion slips and misses a relatively far jump. "Rose!" he exclaims, nearly missing the jump himself as he overbalances. His landing is a bit clumsy, but he does not break anything (himself or the boat).

Her head breaks the surface of the water just as he kneels down.

"D-Doctor," she stutters, teeth chattering and looking shocked, nervous, and slightly perplexed. Luckily, she appears not to have hit any of the chunks of ice that float near her. A harsh gust of wind blows through at that moment, and he reaches for her as she shivers. "'S b-bloody freezing."

"I said it once and I'll say it again," the Doctor says automatically, as he hauls her into the boat and tries to figure out a way to get her out of the cold (reduce her chances of hypothermia or frostbite). "Jeopardy-friendly, you are." He hides his worry. She will not suffer from this; he won't let it happen.

A glance at the shore shows him that they are only a handful of boats away, and there are shops that he is sure will help her to dry off and warm up. "If you can make it the rest of the way, I'll get you inside somewhere to recover and then I'll head for the girl."

"Wha – no!" Rose exclaims, looking at him with what has become a familiar, stubborn expression as she wrings out her hair and clothes. "You're not leavin' me out of this."

"Rose, be reasonable. You're in no state to continue, and if you don't get somewhere warm soon you could be seriously ill or injured." Irritation surges, so quick to do so in this harsh, war-torn body. "There's no time for us to be standing around arguing."

The Doctor knows that he cuts an intimidating figure (another thing this body is good at), but Rose does not fear him and does not back down. She never has. Instead, she raises her chin and stares him in the eye, glowering back. "Look, I'm fine. There's no real wind right now, and the running will warm me up. And anyway, you shouldn't go off alone."

Before he can argue, she's stepping away and leaping onto the next boat in the line as she shouts, "We're wasting time arguing!"

The Time Lord growls a little (the surge of affection at her contrary nature is completely inappropriate) and mutters under his breath as he follows, "Stubborn woman." He stops her as soon as they reach land, rummaging through his pockets for a scarf and gloves he has tucked away somewhere. He ties the former around her neck as she pulls on the gloves, and then shrugs out of his leather jacket and helps her into it (tries to ignore his reaction to seeing her in his clothing, in something that so defines him).

Rose settles into it with a happy sigh, surrounded by his scent and lingering body heat.

Against all odds, she appears more or less fine. Had she looked more than slightly chilled he would never allow her to continue the chase. "Let's go," he says.

They find the girl and save the day, of course, but Rose unknowingly draws the Doctor's attention to another quirk during the rescue. The girl is, as he suspected, tied to the pole of a dock, and when they find her she is waist-deep in freezing water, lips blue and shivering uncontrollably. The 'rope', for lack of a better term, resists several of his sonic screwdriver's settings, and then he's busy trying to keep the mercenary and his subordinates from killing them. As neither of them carries a knife or scissors (something Rose plans to remedy), it is up to his companion to untie the girl as quickly as possible.

And it is rather quick. Rose rips her gloves off, and her fingers are nimble and sure as she works to undo the bindings. The Doctor notices, even with most of his attention on the enemy. An ordinary human's fingers should be frozen and numb, clumsy and fumbling in the cold. But Rose does the precise work with ease.

It is such a small thing, and yet… He does not know quite what to make of it.

The next occurrence both frightens and enrages him, and their captors are lucky that Rose is there, to temper him and distract him.

The Doctor has been afraid for Rose before, certainly. He has seen her afraid many times, has even seen her in a panic (although less the longer she travels with him). But he has never seen her react the way she does the first time she wakes up strapped to a cold, metal table in a high-security government lab on Xibalba.

The Xibalban scientists of that period are fascinated by (some would say obsessed with) genetics. With humans almost unheard of in this corner of space, and Time Lords considered extinct, it is hardly surprising that they are kidnapped off the street. Particularly when those streets were in the slums.

The Doctor regrets that he only puts this together after the fact. And that the drugs do not wear off before he is strapped to a table near Rose.

He tests the restraints while waiting for Rose to wake, and curses under his breath when they automatically constrict at his movements. This will be rather difficult, and they've divested him of his jacket, which holds his sonic and other helpful tools. Their possessions are nowhere within the room, but the instruments on nearby trays look rather ominous.

By the time Rose begins to stir, the Doctor has come up with a few workable plans and is feeling bored. Ordinarily he might make a racket to encourage a confrontation with their captors, but not with his companion unconscious and vulnerable.

The change in her breathing as she begins to wake catches his attention before her limbs begin to shift slightly. He can just make out her eyes flying open as the restraints register, and her heartbeat increases as she takes in her predicament (she has not yet angled her head in such a way as to catch a glimpse of him).

And then the panic attack begins.

He watches in stunned silence as Rose's breathing increases, until she is almost panting, but he can see that she is not receiving enough oxygen. She jerks violently at her restraints, almost mindless with terror, and seemingly unable to feel the damage she does to her wrists, chest, and ankles. The Doctor can almost hear the scream trapped in her throat, and he shouts her name, mindlessly shouts endearments and reassurances (calmdownI'mhereI'llprotectyouRosepleaseI'mherepreciousgirl). She is too far gone, and cannot hear him, nor does she seem to see her surroundings anymore.

The Doctor himself is straining and thrashing against his own restraints, and they were never meant to hold a panicked, furious Time Lord with no regard for his own well-being in the face of his companion's agony. There may or may not have been an alarm sounding at this point; everything from then on is a blur, even for his mind. But several Xibalban scientists rush to the room, and somehow the Doctor manages to escape (he thinks one of his arms was free at some point, and the restraints are easily released then), and then Rose is in his arms, gradually regaining awareness. The scientists are on the ground (probably not dead, and only because Rose is his first concern, he'll bomb the place later) and their possessions are back with them, his sonic screwdriver unlocking the doors leading to the exit and shorting them out behind them as they run hand in hand.

He does not relax until he has Rose in the medbay, gently prodding her bleeding wrists as she sits on the examination table and avoids his gaze.

"Sorry," she says, staring at the dermal regenerator as he picks it up and holds it just above her injuries.

The Doctor is quiet for a moment, considering his words. "There's no need to be sorry," he says at last. "Nothing that happened was your fault. I'm the designated driver, after all." He moves on to her other hand, once the one he holds is healed.

"It's not your fault either," Rose counters stubbornly, looking him in the eye for the first time since their escape. "You didn't ask for us to be captured and taken for e-experimentation."

Her stutter is telling, but he merely smiles wryly and says, "Might as well have, that part of town on that planet." He gently lifts a foot, bringing the dermal regenerator close.

"It was an honest mistake. 'M not gonna blame you for that."

He finishes in silence, and does not speak again until he stands and prods at her ribs. "I've never seen you like that, Rose," he says, low and intense with remembered fear.

She flushes in embarrassment and ducks her head. Murmurs, "Sorry."

"Said you didn't need to apologize." The Doctor touches her chin, lifting gently so that she is looking at him and not her knees. "Everyone has something that sets them off, even me. But I would like to know what happened."

"'S just…" Rose starts, and then stops. Tries again. "My childhood fear was always finding myself on a dissection table. I had nightmares, sometimes, when I was little. They went away when I grew up, but I guess the irrational (not exactly irrational, not even as a child, but she cannot tell him that) fear never did."

He looks startled and worried and sympathetic. "Do you know why…"

"Could've been a film. Something mum was watching, and I snuck a peak when I was too young for it (could have been, but isn't; not a truth, but not exactly a lie either, and he knows her so well she can only pray he does not realize).

He lets the topic go when she shifts uncomfortably.

She fares a little better, a little more in control the next time they end up on a dissection table. And a little better the next.

But the sheer terror in her expressive eyes nearly kills him anyway.

And the hints do not stop after his regeneration, although it is quite a while before he notices. The Doctor is not sure whether this is a symptom of how easily distracted this body is, or if Rose was more cautious, more guarded after the shock of his regeneration.

It is probably a bit of both.

The incident on Eorsin is particularly telling (because she should be dead, and he thanks every deity he does not believe in that she isn't), but this is one he tries not to question. Partly because he's half afraid the universe will take notice and correct the mistake. Partly because it is so soon after Reinette, and she has only just forgiven him (he will do nothing to jeopardize that forgiveness, especially after the agony of her enforced distance).

When she tells him, at last, about Jimmy Stone, the guilt tears through him anew and he feels like an unmitigated arse.

He is also beyond enraged, the Oncoming Storm simmering beneath his skin. Rose may have told him the bare bones of the story, but he can read between the lines. Perhaps it is a good thing that she did not tell the last him about her first boyfriend. That him would kill the boy, rules be damned. This him still might.

"Right," he says coldly, as he practically clings to her, one hand cradling the back of her head while she leans against his shoulder and fights back tears. "The police still haven't found him?"

She jerks against him, and the Doctor loosens his hold just enough for her to lean back and meet his gaze. "No!" she cries, eyes wild. "Don't, just leave it, he's gone and never came back, and I'm safe traveling with you."

"Rose, no. What he did to you…" he sees that will not sway her and says instead, "he could be doing to others."

She tightens her grip on his coat and presses her face to his chest. "No, don't. I shouldn't have said anything, but please… He's gone. That's enough."

"Rose, please, I won't. I'll leave it alone. I won't like it, but I will. I'm sorry. I'm grateful that you would share such a painful and personal thing with me, really. I just – I want to fix it. I'm the Doctor, it's what I do, and it kills me to leave it, but please don't think you have to hide things from me."

He waits with bated breath, and sighs when she only nods, still pressed against his body. So he clings to her and hopes that it helps her even just the tiniest bit. The Doctor knows that she is not telling him everything. That there is more she will not say, and not just regarding what that sorry excuse for a human inflicted upon her. Maybe someday she will tell him.

And there are other, smaller things.

They are trapped by a war, once. The fighting shifts, and the TARDIS is in the middle of a warzone while he and Rose are stuck in a military jail on suspicions of espionage. All things considered, it is not too bad as far as jails go. They are given food regularly, and for the most part are left alone and relatively safe from the battlefields. They have never been away from the TARDIS so long before (it has been over a week since they landed, and the Doctor is growing almost unbearably impatient), but even if they were to escape, it is unlikely they would make it to the TARDIS alive until the warzone shifts again.

The day before they finally make a run for it, the Doctor suddenly frowns as he looks down at Rose, and reaches out to twist a lock of hair around his fingers (her heart skips a beat and then begins to race). "Did you change your hair dye customization the last time we stopped by the 32nd century? Or maybe you got a faulty batch."

He trails off. In the past he hardly ever notices changes in his companions' hair styles, but Rose… Something more draws his attention.

"What do you mean?" she asks, his question causing her heart to race for entirely different reasons (when they first landed, she had a few days left before needing to take the next hair dye pill, and so had not thought to bring it along, a decisions she regrets).

"Looks like your roots have become a very pale blonde – possibly white," he says, squinting. "Tri-color hair. Little strange for your time, yeah? Or maybe not. Styles blur a bit between eras, you know, and really, it all depends on geography, and age, and species, too."

"Right," Rose says. "Yeah, guess it was a faulty batch. I'll try again when we get back to the TARDIS."

There is the faintest, almost undetectable tremble in her voice. He knows her so well, and his hearing is very sensitive, especially as compared to humans.

So he files it away in the back of his mind, with the rest of his Rose-facts that do not yet make sense.

These are the pieces of the puzzle the Doctor has collected when he almost loses Rose to the Void. And when he sees what regrets will make of him in another timeline, feels an echo of their crippling pain that even still brings him to his knees in agony, the puzzle does not matter (has almost never factored into his actions, and certainly does not now).

He kisses her even suspecting that she keeps secrets from him. He knows he keeps some from her, knows that she knows, too.

He doesn't care (neither does she).

He kisses her deeply, desperately, and catalogues her taste. There is a hint of tea and marmalade that she ate recently. But beyond that is something unique, clear and soft and refreshing, with almost sharp undertones. It brings to his mind the depths of winter in remote countries, and the brilliant, midnight sun of frozen tundra. And beyond even that is pure Rose, her essence and soul.

He will never get enough of her.

But the real world encroaches, and the desperation lessens. Rose stands, still cradling her wrist, and turns to approach the white wall. The Doctor stands back, understanding as she leans her forehead against it and cries for the mother and best friend she will never see again.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly when at last she turns to him and follows him to the TARDIS. "The walls are closed. I can't send you through." He isn't sure that he will ever be able to send Rose away again. Not anymore. Even if she asks him to.

"Stop it," Rose snaps, startling him. "I told you, I made my decision. Yeah, I'll miss my mum, and I'll mourn. She's my mum. I'll always miss and love her. But I love you too, and I wanted to stay with you. I chose to stay with you. Stop making decisions for me and sending me away without my consent!" She winces as both the stress and her movements send pain throbbing through her already injured head.

"Rose," he says a little helplessly, and picks up the pace to get them to the TARDIS' medbay faster.

"We'll talk about this later," she sighs, leaning on the Time Lord a little more.

And they do. They talk, and argue, and kiss, and make up. He promises not to send her away without her consent again, and she points out that she doesn't really have anywhere else to go (and tries not to cry as the realization hits her, because the TARDIS has almost always felt like home to her, but she grew up in the flat on the Powell Estate).

The Doctor works tirelessly to find a way to say goodbye to Jackie, to give them closure, and at last works out a way to send a message.

He burns up a sun so that Rose can see her mother one last time.

"Have you told himself, then?" her mum asks her, nodding meaningfully at the Doctor as they stand on the gray, windy beach. "About…" She makes a motion that Rose suspects is meant to represent her magic.

Rose's eyes widen, and she can only shake her head, wondering why her mum would even bring up the secret right in front of the Time Lord.

"Tell him, sweetheart," Jackie says firmly. "Now that I'm here, there isn't anyone there who knows, and I think you need that, Rose. You need one person who knows, one person to talk to and just not worry with, and I think we both know that it's that one or no one."

Rose glances at the Doctor out of the corner of her eye, and he watches her quietly. It's confirmed now. He knows that she does have a secret.

"And you," Jackie says fiercely, rounding on him and taking some satisfaction in his almost frightened expression. "You take care of my little girl, now. Or I'll give you such a slap, Void or no."

"I believe you, Jackie," he says with a faint smile that is quickly replaced by solemnity. "And I will take care of her. You have my word."

There is time for one last 'I love you,' and then the connection between worlds breaks.

Rose crumples, the Doctor catching her as she cries for the family she will never see again, and the little brother or sister she will never meet.

For weeks afterward, the Doctor watches her expectantly, hopefully. She knows that he waits for her to tell him her secret. To do as her mother said, as she sometimes wants, and confide in him.

But she cannot. The words stick and do not come. A lifetime of fear and habit, and never once has she told anyone about her magic. She wants to, and cannot bring herself to, cannot even articulate to herself what, exactly, stops her. She trusts him, her mother trusts him, even told her to tell him, and still, when she opens her mouth to begin she stops herself or changes the subject, and the Doctor's attentive expression softens in sympathy edged with sorrow.

A compromise of sorts emerges without discussion. Rose may not be able to tell him, but she will not lie to him, and she will not prevent him from attempting to discover the answer himself. Even the TARDIS encourages Rose's confession in her own way (roughly every other landing is on an ice planet or in the dead of winter).

Ironic, then, when her secret comes to light on a tropical planet.

Rose steps out into bright sunlight, palm trees, and sandy beaches. The Doctor warns her away from the extremely poisonous (though beautifully clear blue) water, the main reason this planet has not been colonized or developed. They meander along the beach, well away from the ocean, and end up crossing a natural land bridge to a distant, relatively small section of land with its own extremely miniature tropical rainforest.

Rose loses track of time as they wander, examining brightly colored plants, and even a few small animals. She thinks it might have been a couple of hours later that they stumbled upon a pack of vicious predators that resembled hyenas the size of large horses. The trees are so tightly packed that it gives them a bit of an advantage as they sprint away from the creatures, although the creatures are emaciated enough (and desperate enough) that they don't manage much of a lead.

The Doctor leads them unerringly to the land bridge they crossed earlier, only for the couple to skid to a halt at the unbroken expanse of water. Cursing under his breath, the Doctor spins around, flicking quickly through the settings of his sonic screwdriver and pushing the silver button just in time. A high-pitched noise emanates from his sonic, almost too high for Rose to hear, and stops the pack of alien-hyenas in their tracks. They whine and hiss, cringing away, seemingly unable to creep closer than a couple of meters, but unwilling to leave.

"Doctor?" Rose says, clutching his hand. They're backed up against the water and stuck on an island.

"Tide came in while we were exploring," he says absently, mind racing for a solution.

"How long until it goes back out?"

He hums, clearly unwilling to reply, and finally mumbles, "Six hours. Roughly."

Rose winces. "Don't suppose you've got an inflatable raft in your pockets," she says.

"No, I do not. Rose Tyler, why do I not have an inflatable raft in my pocket? The trouble you get into, you'd think I would."

"Oi." Rose smacks him lightly on the arm. "I get into trouble. Ha! Look who's talking." She looks around for a solution (aside from the obvious, and that is only as a last resort). "We've got a whole forest over there. Couldn't you make a raft or something?"

"I could," the Doctor says slowly. "But it might be quicker just to wait until low tide, and anyway, there's these creatures to watch out for. They're starving, and too desperate to be run off with my sonic."

"And will your sonic be able to hold them off the whole time?"

"Ah. No. Probably not." He winces. Already, the leader is testing boundaries, struggling to get closer despite the pain. Hunger is a powerful motivator.

"Any ideas?"

"I'm working on it." The Doctor tries to sound reassuring, and does, but Rose knows him too well to be fooled.

"Just how poisonous is the water?" she wonders helplessly.

"Submerging yourself will kill you instantly," he replies sharply. "Even my Time Lord physiology won't last longer than a minute or two, and I can't swim that distance in such a short time, even if I were willing to risk leaving you here alone.

Right. There is no helping it, and Rose doesn't put up much of a fight. A large part of her wants him to discover this last, secret part of herself.

"This planet is uninhabited, right?" Rose asks, shifting so that she moves a little closer to the water. "No recording devices or anything?"

"No, nothing like that," the Doctor answers, clearly wondering what she is doing.

"And the water. Aside from being poisonous, is it much different than on Earth? Like, does it freeze or boil at very different temperatures?" she murmurs casually as she sends a thread of ice to the shore, testing.

The pack leader snarls, inching closer with ears clamped tight to its skull as it crouches.

"No, it's very similar." The Doctor is clearly confused by this line of questioning. "Rose, what – "

"Trust me?"

"Yes." The answer is immediate and overwhelming.

Rose blinks back tears and exhales a shaky breath. What she is doing is right. Not just to save their lives, but to show him that she trusts him with everything, as he is willing to trust her now, in the face of the unknown.

"Then stay behind me," she grasps his hand, echoing their first meeting, "and run!"

She leads and he follows, trusting even as they sprint toward the ocean. His hand tightens around hers, but he does not slow her. And the moment that her foot would splash into the water, it transforms into ice.

"What?" the Doctor exclaims, even as the pack of predators lets loose a growling cry and lunges at them.

The ice spreads around her with every footstep, and the tropical weather provides a sort of mental check, making it relatively simple to limit the growth of her ice to a wide trail. She has no desire to accidentally bring a freezing winter to the tropics, after all (who knows what that would do to the ecosystem).

"Wh-what?"

A glance over her shoulder, past the Doctor, shows that only two of the creatures are desperate enough to follow, and they certainly have no experience running on ice, giving the two travelers quite a head start. When they reach the mainland, Rose releases the Doctor's hand (he is still stunned, and can do little more than gape and stutter as his mind races, making connections and cross-referencing with his knowledge and past experience) and raises both arms to dissolve the path of ice. She slows the thaw when it reaches the creatures, giving them time to scramble back to their island.

Then, in safety and silence, she turns to the Doctor.

He grasps her hand, moves toward the TARDIS, and Rose feels relief that he has not turned away, that he has not closed himself to her.

The walk to their home is done in silence, and he sends them into the Vortex before turning to her, reading her insecurities and fears in her expression. "I think this is something you have to explain to me," he says, cupping her cheek. "I've heard of similar abilities and technology, but nothing that fits what you just did. And that's not all you can do, is it (and, unspoken, 'why are you so desperate to hide this, even from me')?"

"You're not…I dunno, angry? You don't think I've been replaced or something?"

"Weelll," he begins. "I guess part of me is a little angry (but she's so afraid, and only recently has he realized just how much fear drives the keeping of this secret of hers), but most of me is fascinated. And not," he adds when he sees the trepidation and remembers her words on Eorsin, "in an experimental, guinea pig sort of way." He kisses her softly, reassuringly. "Rose, I've always known you were amazing, but do you realize how rare it is for me to see something completely new like this? And of course I know that you're you. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm just that impressive before you believe me? I know you so well, everything about you physically – and most other things – that not even possession, cloning, or disguise will fool me. Especially with this body's sense of taste. It's very sensitive and discerning this time around."

"Is that your excuse for always licking things?" Rose wonders with bemusement.

"You don't seem to mind all that much," he says suggestively, grinning as she blushes.

She looks at him, really and truly examining him before she tells him her story (her family's story). She sees the light of adventure in his eyes, thrilling and fascinated and wanting to know everything she is willing to tell. Even more than that, she sees the love he holds for her.

She's promised him forever (recalls the suspicions of her changed DNA and wonders if the TARDIS will confirm her thoughts now that the Doctor knows her secret), promised her love, her heart, and her life to him, as he had in his actions to her. Rose cannot think, now, why she found it so nearly impossible to give him this, to show him and tell him of her magic.

"It'll probably be more comfortable to do this in the library," she says, and they set out hand in hand, with a brief detour to her room for her family book.

Whatever it might have seemed like (and whatever she might have told herself after Jimmy), Rose has always loved her ice magic, shrouded as it was in a haze of fear. She descends from fairytales and magic (calls herself Bad Wolf), and she wonders what the Doctor's genius and scientific logic will make of it (he so often uses the word 'impossible', yet calls them the 'stuff of legend').

But she is secure, now, in his love for her (and hers for him). She isn't quite so afraid anymore.

And that, Rose supposes, is a sort of freedom.