Welcome to 31 Days of Ficmas. I will be posting something new every day in December.

The Doctor watched as the rays soared overhead. He had Rose's hand clasped firmly in his, and if he moved his thumb, he'd be able to feel her pulse beating in her wrist.

After Krop Tor, he needed the reassurance that she was still here beside him. After the threats of the Beast, he needed a promise that she wouldn't leave him.

He took a deep breath. "How long are you going to stay with me?"

He felt Rose shift, and turned slightly to meet her gaze. The love in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees, but it was her promise that broke down the last of his walls.

"Forever."

The Doctor nodded, then licked his lips. "Then… would you… There's something Time Lords would do with their partners, and I'd like to share it with you, if you agree."

Rose stepped closer to him and took both of his hands. "What is it, Doctor?"

"A telepathic bond. A permanent connection between our minds, tying us together for as long as we're both alive."

The Doctor waited for Rose to decline, or ask for more information. A bond was far more than most humans ever considered, and Rose liked the privacy of her own mind.

"Is that as intimate as it sounds?" Rose asked.

"More than," the Doctor answered honestly. "It's… we would know each other completely, in a way most couples can't even imagine."

She pursed her lips and looked up at him, a little furrow between her brows. "And… and you'd want that, with me?" she asked.

"Oh, Rose." The Doctor brushed his knuckles over her cheekbone, then cupped her face in his hand. "I want it so much I ache," he confessed in a whisper.

Rose turned her head and pressed a kiss to his palm. "Then yes. If you want a bond with me, then I want it with you."

It was still dark when a muffled thud in the corridor woke John Tyler from a sound slumber. He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, unsurprised to find his cheeks were damp. He often woke up crying when he dreamed of Rose.

Tonight though… this dream had been different. Instead of dreaming of white walls and barren beaches, he'd been transported to one of the happiest moments in the Doctor's life. He could still feel the joy in his hearts—heart, he amended—when Rose agreed to share her mind with him.

Despite the early hour, he swung himself out of bed. Experience told him that when he woke up from a dream of Rose, there was no going back to sleep. Instead, he pulled his dressing gown on and shuffled over to his desk.

John sat down and turned the lamp on, then reached into the drawer for the leather journal that held his most precious memories—no, his favourite dreams. He flipped slowly through the pages, filled mostly with images of his Rose.

Then he settled on a blank page and picked up his pen. He could still see the look of absolute joy and wonder on Rose's face as she and the Doctor had formed their bond, while the strange creatures flew overhead. Her wide smile, the shimmer of tears in her eyes, the way she'd gasped his true name after he'd whispered it into her mind…

And then, the feeling of her small hands on his collar, tugging him down as she pushed up on her toes to press her lips to his. John felt his cheeks heat up as he remembered the texture of her jacket beneath his palm when he pulled Rose as close as possible. He'd woken up tonight before the embrace had gone beyond a passionate kiss, but there had been other nights when his dreams had been decidedly more… lustful.

With an effort, he pushed those dreams to the back of his mind, refusing to give in to the temptation to draw Rose lying in his bed with kiss-swollen lips and passion-glazed eyes. It would be hard enough to explain this journal to anyone should they find it. Adding sketches of a naked woman would be beyond the pale.

Instead, he focused on adding as much detail to the scene from tonight's dream as he could, getting lost in that world, where he was a traveler and Rose was his…

A knock on the door pulled him back to reality, and he blinked a few times when he realised grey dawn light was coming in through the curtains. He stood up and reached for his dressing gown, then said, "Come in."

Martha pushed the door open, his breakfast tray in her hands. She paused when she saw him. "Pardon me, Mr. Tyler. You're not dressed yet. I can come back later."

John tied his dressing gown closed. "No, it's all right, it's all right." He shifted papers around on his desk to make room for his breakfast. "Put it down. I was…" He raked a hand through his hair, feeling the need to explain himself. Normally, he would be dressed and ready for classes before she arrived. "Sorry, sorry. Sometimes I have these extraordinary dreams."

Martha smiled uncertainly at the man who was, and yet was not, the Doctor. "What about, sir?" she asked as she set his tray down on his desk, then moved to open the curtains.

"I dream I'm this adventurer," Mr. Tyler explained. "This daredevil—a madman. The Doctor, I'm called."

Martha's hands shook as she opened the curtains on the other side of the room. "That's very creative, sir," she said, then went back to the desk to pour his tea.

Mr. Tyler hummed noncommittally, and Martha wracked her brain, looking for something to say that would rid him of the notion that he was actually a time travelling alien.

An journal on the desk distracted her. It was open to a portrait of a young woman, about Martha's age. "I didn't know you drew, sir," she said before she paused to consider if that was an appropriate thing for a maid in 1913 to say to her employer.

Mr. Tyler sighed, and a rock settled in Martha's stomach. Suddenly she knew what he was going to say, and she didn't want to hear it. The one good thing about spending three months in the past with a Doctor who didn't know who he was was that she wouldn't have to hear Rose's name every other day.

"That's Rose," he said, resting his fingers gently on the sketch. "Rose Tyler."

Martha's eyes widened; she'd never thought to wonder how he'd landed on Tyler as his human last name.

"She's there, in my dreams." He cleared his throat. "She's… well… the Doctor is an alien, but I suppose in human terms, you'd say Rose is his wife."

It was a good thing Martha had finished pouring the tea before John Tyler dropped that bombshell, or she would have dropped the pot.

oOoOo

Rose bent over when she came through the Void, trying to catch her breath after all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Even after ten trips with the dimension cannon, she still hadn't gotten used to the way it felt to be propelled from one universe to another.

But this time, as the lightheaded feeling passed, she felt another uncomfortable sensation dissipate along with it. The dull throbbing she'd felt between her temples from the moment the walls between the worlds had closed was gone.

The Doctor was close by.

Rose spun wildly, throwing out a telepathic greeting as she moved. Doctor! Oh, God. Where are you?

He didn't reply, and she realised almost immediately that he didn't even feel like he'd realised she was close by. In fact, he felt… distant, or off somehow. Almost like he was unconscious.

Rose put her hands to her temples and focused on the bond, trying to get a bearing. She started walking, adjusting her direction a few times as she got a better sense of where he was. Whatever was wrong with him, they could figure it out together, now that she was here.

A fine mist started after she had walked about a quarter of a mile, and it wasn't long before her jeans were soaked through and her hair was sticking to the side of her face. Rose sighed and wished in futility for a warm shower and dry clothes before being reunited with the Doctor.

Warmth radiated out from beneath her leather jacket, and her steps slowed. She reached inside her coat and pulled out the chain that carried her TARDIS key—the key that was now glowing.

Of course. If the Doctor was here, the TARDIS would be, too. A faint song hummed at the edge of her mind, coming from a slightly different direction than she sensed the Doctor was in. The idea of going home for that hot shower was tempting, but after a moment, Rose shook her head and took another step towards the Doctor. He wouldn't care if she looked like a drowned rat, and they'd waited for this reunion long enough.

She'd only gone a few more steps when the TARDIS' song swelled in her mind, and she knew the ship wanted her to come home first. Rose bit her lip, then changed direction. Maybe the ship's persistence was related to the slightly off feeling of the Doctor's presence over the bond.

The song led her to a small shed on the edge of a woody glen. Rose pushed the door open carefully, wishing she had her Torchwood-issued sidearm with her. Entering an unknown situation without backup or a weapon went against every bit of training she'd gotten in the last three years.

But outside of the tall, blue box standing in the middle of the shed, the building was empty. Rose's fingers shook as she pulled her key out for a second time, this time sliding it into the lock.

She blinked a few times when she stepped into the dark console room. But when she walked over to the console and reached for the light switch, the ship's hum changed from welcoming to warning.

Rose pulled her hand back. Does this have something to do with why the Doctor feels wrong in my head?

The hum pulsed slightly.

All right. Do you have enough power to heat water for my shower?

The light to the corridor brightened, and Rose walked the familiar path to the bedroom she and the Doctor had shared. She paused at the door, bracing herself for the memories that lay on the other side.

Then she turned the knob and stepped inside. The Doctor's familiar scent hit her first, pulling her back to the nine months this room had been theirs, before she was trapped in Pete's World. Two ties were tossed haphazardly over her vanity, and she smiled, remembering the way he tended to drop his ties wherever they fell.

Looking around, she could tell at a glance that the room hadn't been used much since she'd been gone. Her makeup and jewellery was still strewn out on the vanity, just like she'd left it. The book she'd been reading was on her nightstand underneath a battered copy of The Little Prince. Judging by the depression in the pillow, the Doctor had slept on her side of the bed after losing her.

Rose blinked back tears as she stripped out of her wet clothes and climbed into the shower. She'd known the Doctor would take their separation hard, but it hurt to see evidence of how much he was struggling.

But I'm home now, she reminded herself as she combed her favourite conditioner through her hair. I'm home, and I'll find him, and everything will be okay.

That belief was challenged when she stepped out of the shower and found an Edwardian dress hanging on the bathroom door. Rose stared at the garment, a subtle hint from the TARDIS about what she was about to step into, and wondered what on Earth the Doctor had gotten himself into this time.

oOoOo

Martha's numbness as she rode her bike down the lane had little to do with the early November chill.

The Doctor was married?

It was tempting to tell herself that John Tyler's dreams weren't real, that he was only imagining what he'd wished had been his life with Rose Tyler. But Martha was through with lying to herself about the Doctor's feelings. Whether he and Rose had actually been married, it was obvious he still loved her.

"He couldn't have said something, though?" Martha muttered as her path branched off towards the tiny shed the TARDIS was parked in. "Not one little mention that he'd been married?"

Her conscience pricked at her, reminding her that he had told her he and Rose had been together, and he'd been very clear that she, Martha, would not be replacing Rose in his affections.

When she reached the ship five minutes later, Martha shook her head, trying to get rid of the self-pity clouding her thoughts. There was no point thinking about the Doctor and his love life right now anyway. Despite appearance, John Tyler was not the Doctor, and the Doctor wouldn't be back for another two months.

The TARDIS door creaked open, and Martha sighed when she stepped into the ship. Even with only the emergency power on, the ship still felt more familiar than anything she'd encountered in 1913. She ran her fingers over one of the coral struts, remembering the way the Doctor would stroke and caress the ship as he walked by.

Then she lifted her chin and turned back to the centre console. She'd come here for a reason, and it wasn't to get lost in her own memories. The Doctor's apparent memory recovery worried her, and she wanted to watch the video again to see if he'd covered that possibility.

But as she moved to turn the monitor on, a sound caught her ear and she froze. Footsteps. There was someone else in the TARDIS.

Martha looked around wildly for a weapon and lunged for the mallet the Doctor kept hanging from the console. She remembered green laser beams going over her head as she and the Doctor had run into the TARDIS, and she swallowed hard. A mallet wouldn't do her any good if the Family had found her.

She adjusted her hold on the mallet as a woman appeared at the end of the corridor. The stranger paused and stared at her, and Martha tilted her head, trying to pin down why she looked so familiar.

It only took her a moment—she'd just seen that face a few hours ago, sketched by the Doctor's hand. "You!" she gasped.

Rose's forehead wrinkled. "I don't think we've met." She pulled her hands out of the pockets of the navy blue coat she wore. "I'm—"

"You're Rose Tyler," Martha spat out. Maybe if she'd had more time to process the Doctor's marriage before meeting the wife who'd abandoned him, she could have been pleasant… but she hadn't had more time. "We've never met, but I've heard all about you."

Rose nodded and took another step, then pointed at the mallet. "D'you mind putting that thing down?" She shook her head. "I've told him over and over that she doesn't like being hit, but I see he still hasn't listened."

Martha started to obey, but then she remembered what the Doctor had told her about the Family. They could take over a body, living inside it.

She narrowed her eyes and hefted the weapon again. "How do I know you're really you?"

To her surprise, every light and whistle in the console room went off, just for a few seconds. Martha blinked against the sudden change in lighting, then blinked again when they were back in the half dark.

Rose was patting the wall. "Thanks, girl," she murmured, before looking at Martha. "Best character witness there is," she said. "If you can't believe a sentient, telepathic ship, who can you believe?"

Martha grunted and tossed the mallet down on the grating, then crossed her arms over her chest. She watched through narrowed eyes as Rose walked down the ramp to join her by the console.

"So you know who I am, but you still haven't told me who you are," Rose pointed out.

"Martha Jones." Rose started to hold her hand out to shake, but Martha stepped back from it. Rose's loss had devastated the Doctor, and Martha wouldn't let her pretend otherwise. "I've got to ask, what the hell are you doing here?"

Rose's smile disappeared. "I live here."

Martha heard the hint of warning in the other woman's voice, but she ignored it. "You did live here," she corrected, "until you left the Doctor. I've spent the last nine months trying to put those pieces back together again. Do you even care how much losing you hurt him? He tried to get a Dalek to shoot him. Twice!" Rose's face paled, and Martha felt a spark of vindictive pleasure at scoring a hit.

Then the muscle in Rose's jaw flexed, and Martha felt the balance of power shift. "I didn't leave the Doctor," Rose hissed. "We were separated, and I got trapped in a parallel universe without any way to get home." Fire glinted in her eyes as she strode forward and leaned down over the railing. "I didn't leave the Doctor, Martha. I never would."

Martha took a step back at the vehemence in her voice. She'd never been able to figure out why the Doctor was so hung up on someone who'd left him. Suddenly, she had the feeling that there was a piece of the puzzle she'd been missing.

"But he said you were with your family, and happy," she protested.

Rose pressed her lips into a thin line, and for the first time, Martha thought she saw a hint of tears in her eyes. "I was with my family, yeah. Mum, stepdad, and recently a baby brother. But that doesn't mean I was happy."

For a moment, Rose was lost in memories of three years spent away from her home and her husband. Three years of waking up alone, of wondering if she'd ever see him again, of living with a constant headache left by the broken bond.

She pinched the bridge of her nose to hold the tears back, then looked at the other woman. "I've spent the last three years trying to get home."

"I'm sorry," the other woman mumbled.

Rose nodded, accepting the apology without question. If the Doctor had given her the impression that she'd left willingly, her anger made sense.

She walked down the ramp and held her hand out. "Let's try this again. I'm Rose Tyler, formerly of the Powell Estate. I'm married to the Doctor."

Martha flinched from the introduction, and suddenly her irritation with Rose's sudden appearance made more sense. But she quickly hid her hurt and shook Rose's hand, a smile on her face.

"Martha Jones. I'm a medical student, currently travelling with the Doctor."

Rose smiled at the Doctor's companion. "Speaking of the Doctor, where is he?"

Martha sighed and leaned against the console. "That's a bit complicated." She rubbed at her temple.

Rose raised an eyebrow. "What the hell do you mean, it's complicated? He's here somewhere, I know he is." She tapped the side of her head. "I can feel him."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "Interesting that would still work as a human," she muttered to herself.

Rose didn't really feel like correcting the assumption that she was human, so she let it slide. "Just tell me where my husband is."

Before Martha could answer, the TARDIS monitor turned on, playing security footage back. Rose gasped when she watched the Doctor and Martha come flying into the TARDIS with green laser beams narrowly missing them.

She scooted closer to the monitor as the tape continued to play. This was the closest she'd been to him in three years.

After the attempt to outrun the aliens failed, the Doctor held up a watch. "Take this watch, because my life depends on it. This watch, Martha. The watch is me."

The screen went dark, and Rose spun around to look at Martha. "What did he mean, that watch is him?"

Martha sighed and flopped down onto the jump seat, and that was when Rose realised she was dressed in an old-fashioned maid costume.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," she exclaimed. "I thought the dinner lady routine got old after a while, but he's got you working as his maid?"

A faint smile crossed Martha's face. "Well, he didn't exactly arrange for things himself," she said. "Here, sit down and I'll explain it all to you."