He turns around to face the counter again and continues to fuss around their breakfast, not saying anything. Bastard.

"I'd rather stay with you and do what I can and die-" She notices his back jerks at that word and he pauses, but then continues what he's doing. "-rather than go back home, not knowing, just go back home. You know what they did, mum and Mickey, when they heard me come back? They took me out for chips and told me I'm worrying for nothing, way off, no need to worry about something so far into the future."

He stops doing anything now, and just leans on the counter, not facing her.

"That's what you sent me back to, to living with people who don't understand the half of what we've been through, to people who couldn't even offer comfort when I sat there, knowing you were dying!" Her voice is shaking when she's done. She didn't plan to say all that, even if she wanted to yell at him for that.

He turns around, still a distance away. "You would have died there, Rose, don't you get it? I couldn't save you otherwise, I – I couldn't save Jack!"

Oh, God, Jack. She… she suspected that might have happened, but could live in denial until now, until he said it.

Jack, the intergalactic flirt who hit on everything, but knew when to be serious, Jack, who laughed with them and joked and teased and was there for them and died for the Doctor. He's dead.

"Rose?" the Doctor asks, and sits down at the table next to her. She realises she's been silent for at least a minute. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

"He died? He's really dead?" she asks, as if by questioning it, it can be undone, and her voice is still shaky.

His hand is on her shoulder, comforting. "No, Rose, he's not dead. You brought him back to life."

"M- me?" What? What the hell is that supposed to mean? "What the hell happened on the Game Station, Doctor?"

He doesn't answer.

"Doctor," she tries again. "The Daleks didn't run away because you sang a song, did they?"

"No," he says, then sighs.

"What happened? What happened, Doctor? All I remember is my mum and Mickey helping me pull apart the console and a light and a song... and nothing. Woke up in the TARDIS and then you exploded."

"You saved us all," he says in a loud whisper.

"It's driving me crazy," she whispers back.

"The Vortex was in your head, you could do anything. You destroyed all the Daleks, you ended the Time War." Her hand shoots up to her mouth in shock. "You brought Jack back to life."

"Where is he, then?"

"Couldn't wait for him, I was about to regenerate any moment. It was lucky I had time to tell you about... I'm so sorry, Rose, we'll find him. I was always going to go back and find him."

She accepts the promise for now. Knowing Jack is alive ignites new hope in her.

"But don't you see why I sent you back? You would've died, Rose. What if I was already dead when you got here? I couldn't've have saved anyone if I activated the Delta Wave."

He's pleading with her to understand what he did and she knows why he did it, but she's still angry, still hurt that he sent her away like he did. "You didn't send Jack away!"

"That's different!"

"How?" she challenges.

"I'm not – Jack's trained, Jack knew what he was doing, Rose..." He trails off.

She looks down into her lap and ignored a tear running down her cheek. "Yeah, and I'm... what, useless? Stupid, useless Rose, tagging along as always." He doesn't think of her that way, she knows, but she wants to hurt him, she wants him to know how he made her feel.

"Never useless, Rose, not useless or stupid or tagging along. I-" Pause. "I couldn't carry on thinking you might die."

"So instead you just lied to me. Without saying goodbye, sent me away-"

"I said goodbye!"

"Not that stupid hologram!"

He seemingly accepts quietly that the hologram wasn't an adequate goodbye. A few moments of silence pass, and then he asks, "Would you have gone if I'd told you where you were going?"

"No."

"That's why."

Suddenly she looks up at him. He said she was the one with the Time Vortex in her head. She was the one who saved Jack and killed the Daleks and... He's the one who died. How did that happen?

"Doctor, what happened to you? You said you absorbed the energy of the Time Vortex. But I was the one... I was the one who had it. You took it from me?"

"Naturally."

"You died for me," she says with wonder. And that realisation slams into her with such force that she can't believe anyone would do that for her.

"Small sacrifice. I'm still here." He smiles.

"How did you do it?" she asks, incredulous.

He looks straight into her eyes, so close. For a few seconds, he just looks at her. And for those brief moments, she believes he might actually dip his head forward... tilt his head...

***

He draws back and looks away. "There are ways."

He almost told her. He was so close… he came so close to telling her the reason he didn't send Jack away. Not in love with Jack. Barely stopped himself.

She's still silent beside him, and he wants to know what she's thinking. He could never really figure out how these female human brains worked, could he? He can fix a time ship with barely any spare parts, build a sonic screwdriver from scrap, but some systems are beyond even his understanding.

He almost kissed her, too. He's so tempted to show her how he did it, how he took her Time Vortex out of her head. She looks so kissable, face still clean of make-up and smelling faintly of peppermint toothpaste and sweet-scented soap, lips so inviting, a little parted... He wonders if she knows just how adorable her pout is.

He stands up to put more space between them.

"I dreamed last night..."

He looks at her, curious.

"Dreamed about the Daleks."

"You had a nightmare?" he asks, concerned. "You said you slept well-"

"Yeah, it wasn't a bad dream. It was – I don't know, it was strange," she says, looking at him for a moment and turning to look at the table again. "And you said I destroyed them... I remember a golden light and Daleks, I remember not being afraid. I thought it was just a dream but it's not, is it, Doctor?" She looks up at him again.

He doesn't say anything right away.

"Is it?" she asks again.

Oh, he was afraid of that happening. He didn't know if her memories were gone for good or not, and, well, now he knows.

Oh, blimey. What else does she remember about that day? Not the kiss, please, no. She's not supposed to know he did that. He's not supposed to have done it.

He grimaces a little. "I was afraid of that."

"Afraid of what?" she asks, pressing now.

He starts pacing. "You weren't supposed to dream, you weren't supposed to remember... there's a reason why you weren't meant to remember."

She shakes her head.

"Funny thing, the Time Vortex. I told you before, even I don't know how powerful it is or what it can do. And I didn't think you'd forget, but I was glad you did."

He sees fury being written on her face now and realises how that must have sounded. "What the hell are you saying?"

He rakes a nervous hand through his hair and looks at her apologetically. "Sorry, Rose, I didn't mean it the way it sounded-"

"Then what the hell did you mean?" she almost yells, standing up. "How can it be good in any way? Didn't you see what forgetting did to Jack?"

He wills her to calm down. "Rose..."

But she doesn't appear to be paying attention to him now, ploughing on. "Do you think it's easy, do you think it's been easy? That I don't spend all my time wondering what the fuck made you die, why the fuck Jack's not here, why the fuck we can't go back for him, why-"

He catches her by the shoulders and crushes his lips to hers, hard and suddenly, cutting her off. She pushes at his chest and he lets her go, but then she looks at him, surprise and question written on her face as much as her anger, and she catches the front of his jacket and tugs him close to kiss him again. Furiously.

And as a thousand thoughts run through his mind, about how he's not supposed to be kissing her – oh, but she feels so good – how she wasn't supposed to kiss him back, just shut up a second – oh, but Rose, he's so glad she did – he presses her into the wall of the kitchen and catches her by the waist, not accidentally making her shirt ride up. He beckons himself to concentrate...

Then she tears her mouth away from his and looks at him, shocked again, her lips swollen and still parted. "I remember..."

He forces himself to let her go, and leaves her leaning against the wall to make order in her new memories. "Yeah, I thought you would."

"You what?"

Of course he knew she would. If she could dream about it, he knew all he had to do was reach deep enough into her mind. He's trying not to regret it.

With a kiss he took her memory and with a kiss he gave it back, he realises.

"You did it?" she asks, confused.

"Should I not have?"

She shakes her head, disbelieving. "I wiped out the Daleks… I brought Jack back to life just so we could leave him on that empty satellite – and you – you kissed me, just like I dreamed – I remember." Then she steps forward and pushes at his chest. "You fucker!"

What?

"You stupid wanker, you kiss me to save my life and you kiss me to make me remember how you did it, does everything have to go through the mouth for you?" she yells, punching him in the chest. "Can you kiss me just once and ever mean it?"

Then, to his horror, he notices she's sobbing and he collects the armful of a struggling Rose against his chest. "I meant it," he says in her ear to make sure she hears him through her mumbles and cries.

"I'm sorry," she sobs against his shoulder. "I saved the universe, saved Jack, couldn't save you... My Doctor..."

He rubs her back and cradles the back of her head, trying to soothe. Her regret tugs at his heartstrings, his Rose, so upset. Stop crying, he conveys silently.

Eventually her sobs subside into tiny hiccups and her breathing evens. "I'm sorry," she whispers again.

"Don't be sorry, Rose. You did keep me safe."

He feels her shaking her head.

"That's why I didn't want you to remember. Don't you remember what it felt like to know everything? See everything?"

"Hurts," she says.

"Yeah."

"Hurts more not to know," she protests. "So 's good."

He just tightens his arms around her.

***

She can see Jack gasp and open his eyes as the Doctor begs her to let go of the power in her head. She sees the Daleks turn to golden powder and fall to dust as he commands her not to play with life and death.

And she sees him stand up, bring her closer, and touch her lips...

Sees the resolution in his eyes as he realises what sacrifice he's going to make.

She's not sure for a second if she ever wanted to see that particular sight, but the man holding her reminds her that everything's okay, that the war is over and they're alive.

She closes her eyes and hugs him inside his brown jacket. She loves him so much, and yet part of her tells her she should hate him.

Hate him for sending her away without asking, for kissing her without asking – twice – for dying without asking. Playing God with her mind, not wanting her to remember the events of what otherwise would probably be the most memorable day of her life so far.

"Okay?" he asks quietly, hesitantly.

"Yeah," she answers, and steps away after smelling his neck just one more time. "How's that breakfast?" Though she knows breakfast is probably the last thing on his mind right now. Just like hers.

He turns at the counter. "Well, getting cold now. I'll warm it up."

Like either of them will be able to stomach anything right now. "Don't bother, not hungry. Unless you are," she adds, and takes a seat at the table again.

"Not really. Do you believe me?"

She looks up. "That you're not hungry?"

"That I meant it."

"I dunno," she manages to get out, and averts her eyes.

Did he really? She knows he cares about her, but there'd been so many opportunities for him that he didn't take. Not when he hugged her and clung to her after the Dalek was no longer a threat. Not when he held her face in his palm and hugged her fiercely when she apologised for nearly destroying the world. Not when they were alone again, after depositing Adam back at home. Not when he held her close in that hospital in 1941, while they waited for Jack. Not even when they rescued her from becoming the Daleks' prey when she was transported to their mother-ship.

And not when they woke up together, and not when she asked him earlier how he'd saved her. She was so sure for a moment that he was going to do it.

There were other hugs and personal moments they shared here and there, too, but he never closed the distance between them and she doesn't remember when exactly it started, but she'd come close to making the move several times.

"You don't believe me?" He touches her shoulder – she didn't even notice him get so close – and she recognises hurt in his voice.

Yet she would have believed him if he hadn't changed. Even despite his reassurances last night, it's not the same anymore.

She could hear love in that Northern accent, see it in those blue eyes, feel it seep into her skin from inside that battered old black jacket when he enfolded her in his arms.

She can't quite allow herself to read him the same way now. Feels a little bit like betrayal, even, although she feels guilty for feeling that way because she knows... she thought she knew... it's still the Doctor.

She looks up at him to see his face. So different, yet she thinks she's seen that expression there before. She examines him... different hair, nose, mouth, ears – she's going to miss teasing him about them – different complexion, chin, forehead, eyebrows, eye colour...

The same eyes.

It's a surprise when she finally sees it, but it shouldn't be.

She watches him descend so he's eye level with her. And a breath escapes her mouth when he lifts his hand and strokes her cheek with his thumb. Then he gets closer, and this is it, he's going to kiss her…

Finally he touches her lips in a torturously light caress, and she leans in to kiss him back properly. He becomes more demanding as they rise to get closer, her arms around his neck and his one hand on her face and the other her back.

Finally, somehow, she's pressed up against the wall again, and he breaks the kiss gently. She takes a moment before opening her eyes and when she does, he's looking straight into them and she thinks... she might believe him now.

"See, meant every word. No motive this time."

She smiles in delight, the first genuine smile since the Game Station was brought up – was it only twenty minutes earlier? Surely more? – and he grins back. "Okay, I believe ya," she says before tugging him down again.

There's her answer.

***

A long time later, Rose notices there's a wall-clock in the bedroom in the TARDIS – fancy that.

It shows 2:03 am. Is that early or late?

Again, she contemplates the concept of a night in this machine. Before she met the Doctor, when she lived a normal life back in London, if she went to sleep at 2:00 am that meant she only had five or six hours left to sleep.

But the Doctor is not an alarm clock or a job she has to go to. She wakes when she's rested and it doesn't matter what time it is, because in a heartbeat they're in any time-zone in the galaxy that they feel like going to.

The clock ticks and behind her the Doctor's hearts beat, and the TARDIS hums in that quiet, always-there way, soothing.

Jack is in another bedroom, asleep. They went back for him today, after finally having breakfast, and it was so good to see him again, alive. Where had he been? She knows he must have been through more than he let on at first. How long has it been for him since they parted? How long did he spend wondering about them just as they wondered about him?

Should've called my mobile, stupid. Tell them to get the hell back to that empty, battle-ridden piece of metal in space and that they're not getting rid of him that easy. The Doctor insisted on not going back to the Game Station, said they had to let time play its course, but they found him easily enough.

Time is such a funny word anyway. It's all happening all around her, everything happens now. Does that mean there are ten Doctors and a hundred TARDISes running around the universe?

Funny idea. Funny if he ever forgets and lands them somewhere near another TARDIS. A whole parking lot of police call boxes. A reunion.

She grins but she doesn't like the idea of a reunion, hopes it won't happen that way. The other companions, they have their place, but it's just them now.

She and the Doctor, and Jack.

Jack can stay, she decided long ago – here is another one of those relative terms that her human brain, so used to linear time, can't stop using. Jack always fit in with them. And, not jealous in the least, he made it clear that their romance won't be a reason for uncomfortable air on board. In fact - she smiles just as she did then - his exact words were "It's about time."

Funny how he knew all along.

She glances at the clock again. 2:17. It beckons her to relax against her lover's chest, to sink into his embrace and let slumber float over her.

Her human mind is so used to linear time that she can't stop thinking, planning, living in concepts of years, days and nights, hours.

The Doctor's not asleep, she knows without looking at him. She knows the way he breathes and the way he holds her when he sleeps, the way he doesn't play with her hair when he sleeps. They've been silent for a long time together, but it's a companionable, *loving* silence, the kind of silence they revel in and not run from.

She yawns. Maybe there's a reason that her mind thinks in days and nights.

The Doctor kisses her neck tenderly and she smiles, turning to face him.

Maybe there's another one, too.

-fin-