"It's so amazing what you do, Doctor. I've never met anyone so brave."

The Doctor shifted on his soft cushioned dining chair. He and Rose had saved the Thalian government from a vicious coup, and the king and queen had insisted on a thank you banquet. That alone wouldn't have been too bad, except they had seated Rose across the table and two chairs down from him, making any conversation with her difficult. That left him open to the fawning attention of the princess.

A princess who was now resting her hand on his arm in a possessive gesture. The Doctor's skin tingled unpleasantly. He didn't want to be claimed by anyone but Rose.

He looked pleadingly at Rose as he reached for his glass, a cleverly disguised move to dislodge the princess' hand. But his companion was engaged in conversation with the middle aged duke sitting beside her, and didn't seem to have overheard the princess' remark.

"Oh, I'm not the only brave one," he protested, for once in his life rebuffing a compliment.

The princess laughed, the tinkling laughter that princesses were supposed to have. The Doctor wondered idly if that was something they taught in princess school.

"Oh, Doctor. And so modest too."

Rose coughed suddenly, and he suspected she was hiding her own laughter. He raised an eyebrow at her, but when one corner of her mouth turned up in the slightest hint of a smirk, he couldn't pretend to be put out. After all, she was right. He was many things, but modest wasn't one of them.

The princess wasn't done, however. "It's so admirable that a man of your stature would be willing to share your travels with someone like Rose."

Any humour the Doctor had found in the situation disappeared. He looked anxiously at Rose, hoping she'd missed that remark as well. But she was staring just over his left shoulder, and he knew she'd heard. She had a smile on her face, and he knew no one else would guess that she was hurt by the princess' words.

The Doctor knew better though. Two painful weeks of working through his mistakes in France had given him greater insight into her mind, including her insecurities.

"I'm afraid you have that backwards, Your Highness," he said smoothly. "I'm the one who is lucky that Rose is willing to travel with me."

The woman hummed in amusement. "Really, now. What could someone like her have to offer?"

The muscle over the Doctor's left eye twitched. "Kindness, for one," he said pointedly. When the princess' smile didn't falter, his patience snapped.

"Rose Tyler is the reason we're sitting here today. It was her intuition that noticed the tension around the city and insisted we investigate. It was her keen eye that spotted the explosives planted on the dam and realised the rebels planned to flood the city."

The Doctor's hands clenched into fists as he relived the terrifying moments when the rebels had threatened to blow the dam with Rose standing on it. If he hadn't been able to jam their remote detonator with the sonic, he would have lost her.

When he pulled himself out the remembered fear, the room was completely still. Everyone had heard his speech, and they were all looking at him with varying levels of surprise.

The Doctor met Rose's wide eyes with a soft smile. He lifted his glass in salute. "To Rose Tyler," he said quietly.

At the head of the table, the king and queen raised their glasses. "To Rose Tyler!" they called out, and the toast was echoed around the banquet hall.

The moonlight shone through the clouds, casting dappled silver light on the paving stones as the Doctor and Rose walked back to the TARDIS. The Doctor stole a glance at Rose as they walked the silent streets. She looked deep in thought, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

Nerves swept over the Doctor—hearts racing, butterflies in the stomach, skin tingling nerves. The princess had goaded him into giving away more than he'd intended, and Rose was going to ask him about it.

And what are you going to say?

The little question, niggling in the back of his mind, surprised him. Rose had asked about his feelings before, and his deflection had been automatic and instinctive. "I have to live on, alone. That's the curse of the Time Lords."

Which was still true, of course. Rose was still human, with the painfully short life that entailed. But today… He pictured it all again. The way the rebel had held Rose tight around the arm and the proud, brave tilt of her head as she refused to be frightened by her own imminent death. He could feel his hearts racing as he'd frantically adjusted the settings on the sonic until he found one that would block the signal on the remote detonator.

And he remembered the way timelines had crystallised around him painfully. He had seen that alternate ending, where he had failed and Rose had died. That Other-Doctor had been just as devastated as he had always known he would be…

If he let himself be with Rose and lost her. All his work, keeping their relationship platonic, and her death had still wrecked him. He scratched at his sideburn. Bit of a paradigm shifter, he pondered. He snuck another glance at Rose, taking in the way the moonlight cast silvery shadows over her face. His hearts pounded in his chest when he considered how easily the day could have ended differently.

And yet, he still didn't know how he would answer the question she was obviously pondering.

They were almost back to the TARDIS when Rose finally spoke. "Thanks for doing that."

The Doctor blinked a few times. Well, that wasn't what I was expecting her to say. What was Rose thanking him for? For saving her from the rebels? "For what?" he asked, pretty sure that wasn't what she meant.

"For defending me to her royal bitchiness," Rose said. They reached the TARDIS, and she put her hand on the door before looking up at the Doctor, her lips twisted into a wry smile. "I know I'm not a princess with the happily ever after and all that, but at least I can save the world."

The slightly wistful note in her voice made the Doctor's choice simple—very, very simple. Rose deserved all the happiness he could give, and more.

He leaned against the TARDIS door and looked down at her. "Why can't you have a happily ever after?"

To his surprise, her chin trembled a little before she swallowed hard and looked away from him. "I just can't," she mumbled.

The Doctor stared at Rose's profile, trying to figure out exactly what had just gone wrong. He was pretty sure—almost positive—that Rose loved him. So why would she turn away from his offer of a happily ever after?

He ran over his words again. Why can't you have a happily ever after?

Ah. He hadn't exactly offered, had he? And Rose wasn't privy to all the thoughts he'd been thinking today. She probably thought he was being clueless at best, and cruel at worst.

Those butterflies came back in full force. If he really wanted to change their relationship, he was going to have to make a direct declaration. Not really my style, he thought, tugging on his ear. I'm much more of an oblique statement kind of man.

The Doctor pressed his tongue to his teeth. What if… He reached out with his time senses, following their own timelines. If he let them dance around the subject tonight, would another chance come?

Rose with her face stolen, and a first kiss born out of the exhilaration of another day saved. Holding each other and supporting each other beneath the impossible power of a black hole. Red rocks and a promise of forever.

He started to ease away from their timelines, satisfied that no matter what happened today, his future with Rose was inevitable. The TARDIS' hum changed pitch, and he kept his time senses open for another moment.

White walls. Loneliness. A windswept beach and a tear-streaked face. And the Doctor, back to the same old life—the last of the Time Lords, traveling without a hand to hold.

The Doctor gasped and wrenched himself back to the present. Rose was still looking away from him, her shoulders slumped in a dejected line. Only a few seconds had passed since he had debated leaving this conversation for the future.

But that was not the future he wanted. "Rose." She sighed and looked back at him, and he reached for her, resting his hands on her shoulders with his thumbs brushing her jawline. "What if I said you could have your happily ever after?"

A little furrow appeared in between her eyebrows as she stared up at him. The Doctor held his breath, hoping she could see his meaning in his eyes.

After a moment, Rose reached up and placed her hands on his wrists. "Are you sure, Doctor? I don't want…" She paused and licked her lips. "We both know you'll lose me someday, and I don't want you to regret this."

"Rose Tyler." He tried to put everything he was feeling in those three syllables, and when her eyes widened, he thought maybe he'd succeeded. "No regrets," he promised her.

Rose shifted closer to him, her right hand sliding up his arm until it rested on the back of his neck. The Doctor's eyes fluttered closed when she started playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, and Rose giggled breathlessly.

The Doctor opened his eyes and squinted down at her. "What are you laughing about?"

She shrugged, and her cheeks turned a little pink. "Just can't believe this is happening. We always seemed… so close, and still so far."

"Oh, this is really happening," the Doctor assured her. He leaned down and bumped his nose against hers. "Welcome to our happily ever after, Rose." He tilted his head and brushed his lips against hers.

With one touch, timelines shifted around them. That lonely beach disappeared, replaced by year upon year of love and adventure.

Rose sighed and turned her head to catch his bottom lip between hers. The Doctor let his awareness of their future drift into the back of his mind and pulled her closer. He didn't need to see the timelines to know that whatever was going to happen, it was going to be…

Fantastic.