The T.A.R.D.I.S. shuddered as the doors slammed behind Rose, her blond hair tossing angrily as she hefted her backpack onto her shoulder. The Doctor glowered at the monitor as he watched her stomp away, and in a fury, he thrust the console levers to send his time machine into the vortex. He continued to watch Rose as she spun around, startled by the grinding whine of the T.A.R.D.I.S. engines, a look of shock and disbelief mingling with the anger on her face. He felt his hearts clench painfully as her image faded, replaced by the swirling chaos of the vortex.

Rassilon! They had argued alright: the Bad Wolf taking on the Oncoming Storm. And now she was gone. Gone for good. She had made her choice and he would give her no second chances … he was that sort of a man.

His ninth self, all tough exterior, dressed in leather, fresh from the Time War: he had been a soft mark, if he was to be honest. He had given her a second chance, asked her one more time when she had at first refused to travel with him. And then, later, when she had interfered with her father's timeline, oh they had had a row then too! He had stormed off, but had later accepted her apology … had even apologized himself. That man would never have left her behind. But this time, she had pushed him too far. This regeneration would give her no second chances … he was that sort of a man.

Seething, he stormed out of the console room, painfully slamming his fist into one of the coral struts as he strode into the hallway toward his bedroom. The hallway never seemed to end, never seemed to get to his bedroom door. The T.A.R.D.I.S. was playing games with him. She always sided with her Bad Wolf. He growled in response to her impertinent hum and, several seconds later, she finally relented, suddenly producing his door directly in front of him. He lurched to an abrupt halt to prevent himself from ploughing into it. Incensed, he threw it open and strode inside.

Gasping, he stopped only a few steps in: instead of the dark, austere tones of his room, his senses were assailed by warm pink and yellow hues and the scents of Rose. A satisfied murmur from the T.A.R.D.I.S. told him that she wasn't finished with her games yet. Glancing around the room, he noted the wardrobe door, flung open, its contents that hadn't fit into Rose's pack strewn over the floor; the vanity's surface cleared of all her knick-knacks; and the picture frame, twisted and glass splintered, lying forlornly on the floor by the dishevelled bed where it had been flung in a rage.

The intensity of his own rage diminished and wearily he moved further into the room, the lingering scent of Rose's anger prickling in his nostrils. He moved toward the bed and couldn't help a small smile twitch at the corners of his mouth as he took in the messily heaped duvets and pillows. Warmer, sweeter scents of Rose erupted from the covers as he sat down on the edge of the bed: smells of contented-sleepy Rose; the fruity fragrance of shampoo from her pillow; and the underlying musk of her arousal.

He allowed the traces of Rose to fill him, calming him for just a moment before he forced his irritation to return. He shoved himself away from the distracting comforts of the bed, and felt his wrath returning in full force when he stubbed his toe on something lost under a duvet that had pooled into a rumpled heap over the floor. Even when she was not here, she found ways to hurt him.

He bent over and picked up the offending object: her journal, no doubt filled with her thoughts about what a coward he was. That's what she had called him, a coward. And then: unfeeling; indifferent; insensitive. And these words combined with such language that he never imagined could cross those beautiful lips. How could she possibly not know what he felt for her when it burned in him so hot? How could she not know when it took all his self-control not to allow his passion for her to overwhelm him? He could never allow himself to endanger her with his lustful urges. No, it was better this way, safer. No second chances … he was that sort of a man.

He tossed the journal dismissively onto the bed. He really didn't want to know what hurtful words she had written ... besides it was private, he shouldn't … He glanced back at it, fallen open among the pillows, its pages enticing him to explore their contents. He returned to his perch on the edge of the bed, and rubbing the back of his neck guiltily, he relented to his curiosity and tentatively picked up the notebook. His eyes drifted over the words, noting how one of her tears had caused the ink to swirl and smudge. And then he began to read:

He asked me today how long I would stay with him, and I told him "Forever". He seemed so happy about that, like it's what he wanted to hear, cause he was grinning that gorgeous, crazy grin of his from ear to ear. And then he took me for chips.

But what does that mean, "Forever"? My forever? His forever? I wish. I'm going to get old, wither, just like he said, and he'll just find someone prettier, younger, smarter. Cassandra was right, I'm a chav. I don't even have my A-levels. I'm a stupid shop-girl. Even if he cares about me now (I think he does a bit, anyway, we are mates) it'll never last. He'll get bored with me and want to move on. He gave up on me fast enough for Reinette, and who can blame him, really. What am I compared to Madame de Pompadour?

I just wish I knew how he really feels. Sometimes, I swear he's going to kiss me, and then he's gone. Maybe I'm just dreaming it. Me just hoping … me being stupid. Yeah, stupid, old Rose. What could he possibly see in me? To him, we're just mates. I'm one in a long line of companions. I'm just lucky he's too nice to chuck me off the Tardis and leave me, cause this life he's given me means so much. It's made me a better person. I know he probably doesn't think I'm good enough for him, at least not in that way. But, it doesn't matter. I will love that daft alien forever, and that will have to be enough.

He fell back among the sheets, tears streaming down his cheeks, clutching the journal to his hearts. His anger for Rose had dissolved, replaced with a fury at himself for being so inattentive to her insecurities. He had known she doubted her self-worth, just not to this extent. (He obviously wasn't the only one who could hide their true feelings.) And, just to be hurtful, in revenge for her calling him a "coward", he had resorted to calling her a "stupid ape" once again, not ever stopping to think of how seriously she would take the meaning of those words, how they would feed the doubt in her precious human heart. Then she had left. And he had practically escorted her out, so consumed with his own rage, that he had convinced himself that this was for the best, that she didn't deserve a second chance. But it was actually him: HE didn't deserve the second chance ... he was that sort of a man.

And, she didn't just deserve a second chance. She deserved apologies and explanations and to be loved … no worshipped, by a better man than him. But he was the man she wanted, and he would do whatever it took to make sure that she knew he loved her back, believed in her so very much, his beautiful, brilliant, human girl. There was no time to waste! Stuffing Rose's journal into his bigger-on-the-inside suit pocket, he bounded into the hallway, to find that the T.A.R.D.I.S. had conveniently relocated the console room just a few steps away. He released a soft snort of amusement at her self-satisfied purr, and he thanked her contritely for her interference.

He nervously peered into his monitor as he began to land the T.A.R.D.I.S. exactly where he had abandoned Rose, just outside the Powell Estate, but 22.4 seconds later in her timeline. He caught sight of her receding figure, and tears welled in his eyes again: she no longer looked angry, just defeated and miserable. But, she whipped around as the T.A.R.D.I.S. materialized, and he saw the immediate change in her demeanor, switching back to one of fiercely determined fury. She had lots of fire left in her yet. It would not be easy to convince her to come home. She spun away again, hastening her pace, as he flung the T.A.R.D.I.S. doors open and rushed out, urgently calling her name, pleading with her to stop. She hesitated slightly, only to resume at an even more rapid gait.

"Rose, please, stop this! Please hear me out!" he caught up to her, tugging at her sleeve. "We need to talk this out, Rose."

She stopped abruptly. "Let go of me!" she snarled, jerking her arm so that his hand dropped away. "Nothin' to talk about. You've made your feelings clear, yeah." With that, she twisted back around, but he grabbed her arm, holding her in place. "Lemme go," she railed against his vice-like grip, "NOW!"

As her eyes met his, he felt the full heat of her fury, the Bad Wolf rising to the surface in full force, and for the first time in his life he felt truly small and powerless, and oh, how good it felt, how proud he was. "Oh, Rose, you brilliant, precious girl: You are beautiful, amazing!" he beamed, much the same way he would address a newly-discovered alien monster. "I do not deserve you!"

"Too right! Now. Let. Me. Go!"

He complied, not daring to evoke her anger any further. As she started to stride off again, he trotted around in front of her, hands in his suit pockets, bouncing on his toes. "You are so right, Rose: I have been insensitive. But it's not because I'm unfeeling or indifferent. Oh, my Rose, it is so much the op-"

"Doctor, just leave me alone," she cut him off wearily, clearly not wanting to encourage him in his discourse.

He noticed the sparkle of tears in her eyes, and she ducked her head toward the ground, in an attempt to hide the small, un-wolfish weakness. He bent over, hands behind his back, and twisted his head around so that he was looking up into her face. "Rose, I'm so sorry. I had no right to say that to you … that horrible thing that I said. I promised myself I would never say it again, and I was so frustrated that it, well, slipped out, actually. You know me, rude and not ginger, and always running my gob. And well … you ARE an ape, that's a genetic reality that you have to live with (not much you can do about that,) but you could never be stupid, Rose. Never." He looked into her sad brown eyes, still from his contorted position below her bowed head.

"You're absolutely daft," she shook her head, a hint of a smile lightening her eyes and teasing her lips. "Stand up properly, and jus' listen to what I have to say."

"Rose -"

"Just. Listen. You said it, because to you it's true –"

"No, Rose, no –"

"Doctor, you see everyone this way, compared to you with that big Time Lord brain –"

"Well, I am quite brilliant" he preened.

She pressed on, ignoring him, "What it amounts to is that no matter what I do, I'll always be insignificant to you. I'm just your latest in a long line. You'll discard me like all the rest when you get bored with me or find someone more interesting. You've already proved that with Reinette –"

"Reinette and I, well, I never –"

"Don't matter. Just me being thick, yeah, thinking I was something special to you. But I get it now, I'm not. I'm just, just …"

He felt his hearts lurch painfully at her words. "You are Rose Tyler, the Defender of the Universe, the Bad Wolf, and my Precious Girl," he countered. He paused and then continued when she didn't interject: "And you were absolutely right with what you said earlier, on the T.A.R.D.I.S.: I am a coward …"

"I had no right –"

"You had every right. I can face down Daleks, Sontarans, Cybermen, even werewolves, but when it comes to the things that really matter, when it comes to you, Rose Tyler, I choose to run from my own feelings. I'm a coward, Rose," he tugged self-consciously on his ear.

She rolled her eyes in response, and attempted to move around him, but he neatly blocked her way. "Please, Rose, I'm no good at this. Over nine-hundred years and I've never really had much practice at this sort of thing, and you deserve so much more than I could ever give you."

Rose groaned miserably, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "Doctor," she sighed, "you gave me the stars and, well, all of time. You showed me how to live my life well. You gave me the chance to know what it's like to really love someone so much that you would give your life for them. And I would, for you, over and over again if it was possible. And I can't ever repay that."

He felt his own tears rise in his eyes and reached out to cup her cheek gently, desperate to wipe away the glistening drop that stained her face. "Rose, don't you –"

She jerked away from his outstretched hand. "Hear me out," she silenced him again. "Doctor I know that, no matter what you've done for me, I know … I know …" she sobbed, "that you'll never be able to return my feelings properly. I can't go through that, yeah. I can't keep travelling with you and watch you kiss other women, and share their thoughts, when you've never done anything like that with me. And that's okay," she ran her hand nervously through her hair, not quite meeting his gaze, "'cause if you don't feel that for me, well … but I do feel that for you … and I need to get on with my life."

Her tears were flowing steadily, now: eyes puffy and cheeks stained and mascara running. And when she gracelessly wiped her nose on her sleeve, the Doctor felt that his hearts would overflow with love for her. He found himself staring at her, in unblinking silence for at least 12.7 seconds before he could process all that she had said and all that he was feeling. She began to walk away, and he stopped her again. "Rose," he spoke with quiet authority, "it is your turn to hear me out, now. I know I'm rubbish at this "talking-about-my-feelings", but the thing is, I need to do it. And you deserve to hear it, just so you'll know. Please, Rose. Give me that." She nodded, eyes downcast.

He reached for her cheek again, and this time she allowed him to touch her, stroke away her tears with the pad of his thumb. "I'm an idiot, Rose. I've been denying my feelings for you. I've been supressing them in true Time Lord fashion. Call it a cultural difference, but it's just the way I was brought up: arranged marriages; children bred on Looms. So sterile, controlled. And mixing with lesser species, well that was considered … well …"

"What, Doctor?" the hard edge had returned to her voice. "Do you consider it so repulsive to have feelings for a human? 'Cause it seems like you had no problem expressing them for Reinette. Or maybe it's just me: not born high enough, a shop girl."

He let out a loud growl, tugging at his hair in frustration. "Rose Tyler! You are twisting my words. I never said I approved of what the Time Lords thought. I'm often ashamed of how they lived, but it is still a part of who I am. But they're gone … now it's just me, last of the Time Lords. I don't have to answer to anyone: I can make my own rules … always did really, but then I always was a bit of a reb-"

"Doctor," Rose deftly stopped what was sure to be a rambling oration about something or other that would quickly gravitate off-topic. "So Doctor, you make your own rules, do ya? And what do they look like? How do my lot, us lowly humans, fit your rules?" She wiped her tears away, and with a deep breath, found the courage to look him in the eye again.

"Well … now that's more complicated, Rose …" he tugged at his ear again, and he couldn't meet her gaze. When she raised her eyebrows at him in a gesture of impatience he forged ahead, "I have lots of different rules, Rose: that's me, rules for everything." He heard her frustrated sigh, "And, you're right, you brilliant girl, I have rules for humans. And then I have rules … for you."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean? What, you can snog complete strangers, but I'm not good enough, is that it? Oh, I just can't do this anymore!" she moved around him so suddenly he hardly had time to react, even with his superior Time Lord senses.

"You were right, Rose," he blurted out, "when you thought that sometimes I was going to kiss you …"

She stopped abruptly in her tracks, "I was? … you were? … Wait, how did you know that I thought you were going to kiss me? Have you been reading my mind without my permission?" her face, flushed and crinkled into a frown, and her hands flew to her hips in indignation.

The Doctor drew his hand down his face, rolling his eyes at himself for his blunder. She would never be able to forgive him now. "No, Rose, I have never entered your thoughts … one of my rules, you see. That's private, that is. I would never do that without your consent, Rose. But what I did do was almost as bad … well, not quite as bad, I suppose. No, actually, it was very bad …" He sheepishly reached into his pocket and withdrew her diary. Oh, she would give him no second chances, now … he was that sort of a man … undeserving of her love.

"Wait! That's my diary! I was lookin' all over for that earlier, and all this time you've been readin' it!"

"No, no, no, no, Rose, no! Just this once, now, when I was in your room, and just this one little bit. Oh, Rose, I'm sorry, I jus-"

"You were in my room?" her eyes flashed with fury, "Goin' through my private things?" She advanced on him, shoving him in the chest, and causing him to stumble backwards.

"No, no, weeeelll, yes … no!" he couldn't keep the panic from his voice, "The T.A.R.D.I.S. brought me there. I was so angry, my emotions were so out of control, she must have thought it would calm me to be there. She knows me too well … probably planted the journal, too, so I would find it …"

"So that's your excuse …?"

"Yes, no, no! … Rose, I was wrong to read it, I know, but I'm so glad I did." Her eyes narrowed as he spoke and she began to advance on him again, her hand raised to deliver the legendary Tyler Slap. "Wait! Rose! Please!"

She hesitated, and lowered her hand. "Go on," she huffed.

He sighed in relief. If Rose's slaps were anything like her mother's (and, he surmised, they were probably worse with the Bad Wolf influence,) he would have likely found himself regenerating if she hadn't backed down. "Where was I? Oh, yes, rules. Rules, Rose, please listen. The rules for you, they're different: to protect you from me, and if I'm being honest, to protect me, too. You have no idea what you do to me, Rose Tyler! From the very first time we met, you gave me reason to hope that I wouldn't need to be alone anymore. You were never just a companion. Rose, you filled the space inside me that I thought would be empty forever. And my feelings just grew with time, became harder to suppress, especially with this regeneration. I was made just for you, Rose. I was thinking only of you when I changed, but I didn't realize how hard it would be for me to overcome those emotions in this body. And I knew that it would just bring pain for both of us in the end. I am a danger to you, my precious human girl, and I only ever want to see you safe. I find it so hard to control my emotions, my passions with you. I could hurt you if I let things get out of control. I could never forgive myself for that."

"My Doctor," Rose sighed, raising her hand to his chest again, this time in a loving gesture, "I know that you would never hurt me. I trust you with my life. You need to give me the benefit of the doubt, yeah. I am strong enough to take whatever you are able to give. I am the Bad Wolf, after all." She gave him a weak, cheeky smile.

He placed his own hand over hers and felt an impassioned electricity flare between them. He glimpsed it flashing in her eyes, watched as she drew it into herself, allowing it to fill her. Oh, she was strong, and he knew it. Her safety was just another excuse, he realized. "I am selfish, Rose. I didn't want to watch you wither away before me, and I thought if I could keep my distance that that would make it better, less painful in the end. Reinette, bringing Mickey on board: they were just my ways of putting more barriers between us, and sorting out what I was really feeling about you. I didn't let myself see how much I was hurting you … not until I read your diary. And what I discovered, today when you left, was that losing you was going to hurt just as much whether I allowed this relationship to develop or not. I think I would go insane, Rose, if I lost you, you've become a part of me that I don't think I can live without."

He met Rose's open gaze with an insecure little smile. "I really do run my gob, don't I?"

"But this progress, yeah? Sayin' somethin' real for a change." she smiled. "I know how hard that must've been for you, and I appreciate it. Guess I should start doin' the same." She stood on her tiptoes and gently kissed him just to the side of his mouth.

His eyes fluttered closed and he gasped at the brief touch of her soft lips against him. "You deserve so much more than me, Rose. I'm so old and have seen and done so many horrific things. If I let you into my mind you would run from me … you would regret … us. You would want so much more than I could ever give."

"How about you let me decide that for myself? Please, let me in." She peered up at him shyly through her lashes, "I … I want us to try to be together, properly, you know, not just mates … if that's what you want, too."

In response, he pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. He gazed down at her upturned face. She continued, "And when we're ready, do you think we could share our thoughts, join our minds? Do you think I could really do it?" She grinned, tongue poking out cheekily between her teeth, "I'd finally get to find out what's in that superior, bigger-on-the-inside Time Lord brain of yours!"

Despite her teasing tone, upon hearing those words, he felt doubt and dread suddenly claw at his hearts. Rose's brow furrowed in concern, and she gently threaded her fingers through the hair around his temples. It was almost as though she was already reaching into his thoughts: "Oh Doctor, don't worry. What I see there won't change what I feel for you," she spoke with quiet confidence. "I know I will just love you all the more, 'cause I know your past is what made you the mad alien you are today: the man I want to spend forever with."

"Ro -Rose" he stammered. Her eyes blazed with her love and her faith in him. He was so moved by the strength and conviction of the emotions he saw there that he found himself uncharacteristically at a loss for words. As his silence persisted, he saw the anxiety he had witnessed earlier cloud her features once again. Her eyes closed sadly as she misinterpreted his lack of words for rejection, and her voice was hollow when she spoke: "That is, if you'll still have me … I'm sorry I stormed off earlier. I'm sorry for all that stuff I said," she declared weakly, her shoulders sagging. "Will you give me a second chance?"

"Rose Tyler," he smiled widely, "I will give you second chances forever … I'm that sort of a man." He took her pack from her back, and held out his hand to her, fingers wiggling invitingly. With a grin brightening her face again, she entwined her hand in his, and they turned back to the T.A.R.D.I.S. "Rose Tyler, let's go home."