Come Tomorrow
by Camilla Sandman

Author's Note: For Saz, who requested a bit of smut, a bit of angst, and a reference to something from the Fifth Doctor episode "Castrovalva". As asked, so delivered.

II

It isn't even a life and death situation, and he's still shagging her.

He always assumed if he would give in, it would be at least life and death and despair and the knowledge it was now or never and there would be no tomorrow for all the complicated after. And even then he might to busy trying to make sure tomorrow happened to give in. But this, this was never how he'd imagined it. No life and death. Not even danger, unless her smile was it.

Just a smile, and a touch, and a kiss, and another and another and suddenly, clothes were being fumbled off and skin was being bared and he was sinking into her and her teeth were sinking into his shoulder and the TARDIS shuddered in flight.

Also a way to break in his new body, he thinks distantly.

She pants slightly as she clings to him, and he can feel her youth in her skin and her slightly awkward attempts to angle herself better. He doesn't help her, merely watches her face until she gets it right and her cheeks blaze. He lifts a hand to share the warmth, and she focuses at his face for a moment, looking slightly surprised.

"Hey," he says, his voice doesn't sound his own, ragged and deep and loving. Perhaps she's claimed it, as she claimed his changes, and claimed his wounds before that. Wounds then, scars now. Less hurt, the same memories.

"Hey," she breathes back, curling her fingers in his hair. He's aware his hair is a frightful mess from Rose-handling already, and his skin bears the marks of her nails. He's a little rough in this incarnation, and she's matching him. Matching him and egging him and he tries to think of time force effects on gravity thrust and knitting in zero gravity and reversing the polarity of the neutron flow and and and and oh Rassilon...

He exhales as she breathes deeply in, and she steadies him as he shudders and her eyes are shining at him with everything she's feeling even as he feels his own mind return to its senses.

Oh, bollocks.

It isn't even a life and death situation, and he's still shagged her.

"Doctor?" she whispers, slight hurt in the confusion of her voice, and he silences her with his own lips. He doesn't want to hurt her, and right now it's the only way he can think of not to, even if it's only postponing the inevitable.

He wonders if she can taste the lie in his kiss too.

There is a tomorrow, and it's starting now.

II

Rose sleeps and the TARDIS hums and he walks, listening to his footsteps and his brain argue with itself.

Humans die. Yes, but Rose is alive now.
Rose trusts him. Rose is not a child, though.
Rose is in his care. Hey, sex can be care.
Sex can be bloody emotionally confusing as well. But confusing is the permanent state of the Universe.
Change is also the permanent state of the Universe, and he's going to change again. Rose can change too, he doesn't have monopoly on that.
Rose doesn't understand. Neither does he.

Neither does he, he thinks, and walks on through open doors. The hum of the TARDIS fades and there is only silence. Absentmindedly, he leans against the air and feels it hold him. Silence, that's the problem. He's always sought to fill it with companions. And Rose, Rose was a roar in the deafening quiet after Gallifrey and he needed her, needed her too much and kept her too close and not as close as he wished at the same time.

The silence is bearable now, and he's not sure if he needs her because he needs her, or if he simply remembers needing her too well. The first, and his heart will be broken when she leaves. They always leave, even if it's through death. The second, and he'll break her heart.

He grins slightly at himself. Shag a human, be a mess for days later. Certain things never change, eh Tegan?

Certain things do, mainly him.

Rose does seem to like his current incarnation, though he knows it was a different him she first fell in love with. He remembers it. He was never blind, even if he sometimes chooses to act or be oblivious. Problem is slipping up. Problem is seeing how damn kissable Rose looks and the gleam of desire in her eyes. She wants. He wants to give her what she wants.

Humans want so many silly things. Love, lust and life. Time kills all, and Time Lords live on.

Though in the great scheme of things, even his lifespan is that of a firefly. It just seems long in the burn. Or perhaps it is a butterfly, every now and then returning to the cocoon for a new shape. New colours and new teeth, fluttering through the darkness of space.

He lets out a breath and draws his tongue across his teeth, remembering Rose doing the same. He should definitely not have shagged her, but perhaps it was inevitable that he would. He does feel more inclined to make silly mistakes this time around. Butterfly boy, pressing all the damn big red buttons out there.

He clearly shouldn't have labelled Rose 'do not shag under any circumstances' quite so strongly, he considers, and puts his feet back on the ground. Comfy air to rest on in this room, actually. He'll have to remember that. What was this room again? Oh, yes. Zero room.

"I found the zero room!" he declares the moment he opens the door and looks into Rose's frantic face. She glares at him, and he goes for oblivious. "Blimey, that would've been even better than tea for my regeneration."

"I've been looking for you for hours!" she throws at him, anger almost masking the fear. "Been pounding at this door for half that time. Are you deaf!"

"Soundproof room," he explains, knocking his fist against the door. "You ever feel like singing, this is the place to go."

"And what the hell did you go here for?"

"To think."

"About what?" she pushes mercilessly. "What an idiot Rose will feel like, walking up and finding me not there? How worried she will be, not being able to find me anywhere? How much of a wanker I will be acting like one?"

"Rose..."

"Fuck you!"

"I thought I already did," he says before he can stop himself, and his brain screams at him. Yep, definitely the incarnation for silly mistakes.

She slaps him the moment he moves in to kiss her, and he can still feel his cheek burn as she bites down on his lower lip. Her body is tense as he runs his hands down to rest on her hips and he knows, knows all too well it will fix nothing and she'll always carry a little bit of hurt from this. From him.

"You scared me," she whispers, pushing a hand against his chest, not quite a caress and not quite a punishment.

"Sorry," he whispers back. You scared me too, he doesn't say. There is fear in time even for a Time Lord, because certain things he cannot go back and change. Today always chases tomorrow, and butterflies always die.

She pulls back slightly, anger still apparent, but a hint of coming forgiveness in her eyes as well. His Rose, forgiving and caring and beloved and human, and he thinks maybe he does need her still.

"I thought you'd left me," she says, taking his hand possessively.

He can tell her the truth, and hurt her. But as ever, he wants that hurt to be in the future. The future is still ahead. The future is not now.

"No, Rose," he says, and beams at her, locking away the fear and the knowledge of what is to come from her. "I'll never leave you."

Sometimes there's a fine line between deception and protection, he thinks. He's not sure which this is, or even who he's lying to.

There is a tomorrow and he hopes it never comes.

FIN