He had to admit that there was a part of him, just a teeny, tiny, itty, bitty part of him that wondered, mused, pondered, sometimes -- not all the time no, just sometimes, if maybe Rose still missed him. The other him. Leather jacket him.
It wasn't something that he consciously chose to think about -- Rose missing leather jacket him. It was just something that crept up on him sometimes. Mostly on Tuesdays. Sometimes on Fridays but oddly enough never on Saturdays... very odd.
When they were out having mad adventures he didn't have time to wonder, muse, or ponder, he was far too busy running from big scary aliens who mostly wanted to do something unpleasant to him. Or Rose. Or Both of them.
But other times, quieter times, like when Rose was sleeping for instance... which Humans did rather a lot of, those times were ponder-full. Brimming over with ponder as it happens.
So he'd throw himself into 'fixing' the TARDIS. Or at least he'd throw himself into trying to find something of the TARDIS that actually needed fixing. Most of the time he was just... just trying not to think about Rose and leather jacket him.
Sometimes, more than ten, but less than twenty-ish, he'd put on the jacket and walk back and forth infront of the mirror. He didn't know why.
Once, he'd attempted a Northern accent. Unfortunately he'd gone too far North and ended up sounding Scottish. The worst part had been that he'd been unable to shake it off and had to hide in the wardrobe room when Rose had woken up and come looking for him. He really, really, hadn't wanted to explain to Rose why he was wearing his old leather jacket and sounding like Sean Connery. Some things were better left un-said.
Then there had been the time when Rose had asked him what he thought of her new dress, and idiot that he was, he'd gotten as far as saying; fan... when he realised that he couldn't possibly say THAT word. So he'd quickly changed it to 'fan...dabbydozi'. Which hadn't gone down too well. So he'd mentally filed it away next to 'correctomundo', in a box marked 'words I will NEVER use again'.
So what if she did miss him? That was okay wasn't it? He was him. Him was he. They were both.
So why, if that was the case -- which it was, no shadow of a doubt, it was the case... why then was he jealous?
Green with greeny green greeness. Jealous.
Well that was just great. Just amazing, just fan... he rolled his eyes. Fandabbydozi.
Giving a heavy sigh he took off his leather jacket, pulled on his brown pinstripe, picked up his sonic screwdriver and went to try and find something to fix.
Sometimes that was all that helped.
THE END