Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

For: Ella, Summer and Mad.

"Who is she?"

And for a moment he forgets to breathe, and (a flash of blonde hair) his hearts skip a beat and how would she know about her? His teeth clench together and he smiles, always smiling, because a smile shows he's happy (and such a human thing, isn't it?) and happy means no questions, right?

"Who?" he asks, the question catching in his throat, a desperate plea for time because he can't talk about her, not yet (not ever) and Amy's just a little too much like Donna and she's just a little too curious and a little too brilliant for her own good and she's every bit as persistent as he is and.

She studies him and he can almost see the wheels turning in her head and he prays, hopes, begs for her to just drop it, but she's Amy and she's persistent and she won't drop it until she knows and if he starts talking about her, he knows he won't be able to stop and he can't. He can't talk about her because it hurts, it hurts so bad, and hasn't he had enough hurt to last a lifetime?

He deserves the pain and the hurt and he deserves being alone and he deserves not being with her and.

"I found pictures, Doctor," she says and she's careful, and he wonders why because she's Amy and she's reckless and wild and she's not careful, not really, and he turns away because he can't take seeing her concerned and she reminds him so much of Martha now, so caring and so kind and he needs to get over her. Over them all. New regeneration, new companions, new everything and he's loved and lost and he's moved on, not really, but somehow, these three, they're still haunting him, even now and he needs to let go but he can't; not them of all people and.

And what?

"No one," he says, airily, looking everywhere but her and he's so good at lying; so good that it's a second nature to him. "Just a friend." And just a friend becomes a manta in his mind. Rose Tyler was just a friend. Just a friend, just a friend, just a f-

Forever. That's not going to happen.

He may be able to fool others, the humans and other aliens alike, but he could never fool himself. Not really.

Rose Tyler wasn't just a friend.

But it doesn't matter because she's with his double and he should be happy for her, for them, but he can't be, not really, because.

Because what?

Because he loves her.

"Doctor?" He's jerked out of his thoughts by her soft hand on his and her eyes are searching his and he wonders if this regeneration is as easily to read as the other one was and he hopes not because he knows what she would be seeing if so and her expression is a mixture of worry and concern and he's not worth it, no, no, he's not worth any of it and silly human, wasting her concern on someone who doesn't deserve it.

"Just a friend," he repeats and he pulls always, and starts playing around the console halfheartedly, just needing something to do with his hands and she's staring at him in a way that reminds him too much of his previous self, and he just needs to forget.

Amy stares at him, and he knows she doesn't believe him and then he smiles easily, oh, so easily and pulls away and he's laughing like mad, (and maybe he really is. Mad, you know.) and asking her where she wants to go next, and he's always been good at avoiding painful subjects, no matter what the regeneration and she gives him a dubious look and he winks at her, and smiles, always smiling, always smiling, and it's a game, for him, the last of the Time Lords, always pushing, always seeing how far he can put walls around his hearts, always, always going, always moving, always smiling, always simply mad.

And later that night, when another world has been saved, he'll look at those old pictures of her and him, (nine, ten), and stare at those big eyes and that innocent smile of hers and he'll repeat those three words he never got to say so long ago.

Rose Tyler...

...I love you.