(no subject)
With her head on his chest, his twin heartbeat was an organic conga drum, beating out a bossa nova with every breath. Her own breathing had grown heavy, listening to him say the things she had hoped he might someday say. She breathed a sigh of contentment.
For a moment, save for their breathing, there was perfect silence between them.
The Doctor gently pulled away from her, lifted her chin with his fingers to look into her eyes.
"Y'know, not that I'm not enjoying being your personal pillow, but the question still stands."
She smiled. "Why you?"
He smiled back. "Why me."
Rose gave him a coy grin, "Why not?"
"So, you're saying I'm the universe's consolation prize?"
This drew a short laugh from her.
"Well, see, right there - because you make me laugh."
"So I'm your personal court jester," he grinned.
"Oi - I let you ramble on, now it's my turn."
He stood, with one of his "Aren't-I-clever?" grins and gave her a hand gesture, as to indicate "The floor is yours, Rose Tyler."
"Where to begin..." Rose thought. She took a deep breath and began.
"So, we met that night, back in the basement of Henrik's and you took me by the hand and said 'Run...!' And I did. And, just like you said when you first changed into, well, you, we never stopped running."
The Doctor slowly nodded, remembering their past trials and tribulations, all that they had seen, experienced, been through together.
"I was with Mickey then and, don't get me wrong, we had plenty of good times together, but... Mickey, well..."
Rose paused, endeavoring to speak favorably of a beloved friend who simply had the misfortune of not being the one.
The Doctor, his hands in his coat pockets, watched Rose struggling to find the right words, the right sentiment, not wanting to needlessly bash another man just because he wasn't her man. It was a quality of Rose that he cherished highly - she cared. All too often in his travels, he had overheard jilted lovers disparage their former significant others with the justification that "They were never good to begin with". Small wonder that, in his ninth form, he had christened them 'stupid apes' with their all or nothing conclusions and utter inability to really think about the world around them.
The soft sound of Rose's voice snapped him out of his reflections.
"...I loved Mickey. Still do. Always will... But Mickey... When he and I were.... he and I... We, well..."
The Doctor knew what she was hinting at: "Let's just say, he wasn't the one...?"
Rose nodded.
"A'right... but why me? I mean, other than the car - chicks dig the car, right?"
This drew a laugh. "Nine centuries of gallivanting through space and time and the last of the Time Lords is reduced to quoting Batman movies?"
He smiled. "Touché, Rose Tyler."
"Well, fair play to you, I do happen to dig 'the car'. But there's more to it than that."
He focused intently on her, curious to hear what she would say, how she would say it.
"You showed me a world I couldn't possibly begin to imagine. Got us in all sorts of jams. Put me in numerous end of the world situations..."
He reached out, took her hand in his, gave it a gentle squeeze.
"...And then you changed... and when you first changed into you... I mean.... I wasn't sure how much you had changed... If you would still care about me.... And, straightaway, you showed me that while your outside was different, you were still you. And you..."
Her heart was racing, he sensed.
"...What I mean is... I mean, you're an alien - no two ways about it... And yet you're probably the most human person I've ever known... You're endlessly compassionate, warm, considerate... But you're not to be crossed - I mean, your aim with a satsuma is testament to that."
He thought back to the Sycorax invasion briefly and of Jackie's odd friend. He also began to ponder the wild unpredictability of the regeneration process. "Isn't it funny," he mused, "how, sometimes I wind up more in touch with my Gallifreyan roots and the world sees me as eccentric, odd or strange and other times, I wind up more in touch with humanity." At this last thought, he briefly recalled his fifth and eighth forms - in those two particular incarnations, he had often been told by his then-companions how sweet, caring and compassionate he was, how human he seemed.
She pulled in close to him, snapping his attention back to her immediately.
"You have all of time and space at beck and call... and all you want is to share it with me... All I am is Rose Marion Tyler, the former shop assistant from Henrik's .... And..."
She was choking up, trying to say the words she felt in her heart.
"...And that's all I want you to be: Rose Marion Tyler," he softly finished for her.
They stood against the TARDIS, the stars shining brighter than ever. She rested her head on his shoulder.
"Doctor...?"
"Yes...?"
She sniffled. "Happy Valentine's Day. I love you."
Wiping tears from his own eyes, he replied.
"I love you, Rose. Happy Valentine's Day."
Under the glow of the moon and stars, they kissed.
For a moment, save for their breathing, there was perfect silence between them.
The Doctor gently pulled away from her, lifted her chin with his fingers to look into her eyes.
"Y'know, not that I'm not enjoying being your personal pillow, but the question still stands."
She smiled. "Why you?"
He smiled back. "Why me."
Rose gave him a coy grin, "Why not?"
"So, you're saying I'm the universe's consolation prize?"
This drew a short laugh from her.
"Well, see, right there - because you make me laugh."
"So I'm your personal court jester," he grinned.
"Oi - I let you ramble on, now it's my turn."
He stood, with one of his "Aren't-I-clever?" grins and gave her a hand gesture, as to indicate "The floor is yours, Rose Tyler."
"Where to begin..." Rose thought. She took a deep breath and began.
"So, we met that night, back in the basement of Henrik's and you took me by the hand and said 'Run...!' And I did. And, just like you said when you first changed into, well, you, we never stopped running."
The Doctor slowly nodded, remembering their past trials and tribulations, all that they had seen, experienced, been through together.
"I was with Mickey then and, don't get me wrong, we had plenty of good times together, but... Mickey, well..."
Rose paused, endeavoring to speak favorably of a beloved friend who simply had the misfortune of not being the one.
The Doctor, his hands in his coat pockets, watched Rose struggling to find the right words, the right sentiment, not wanting to needlessly bash another man just because he wasn't her man. It was a quality of Rose that he cherished highly - she cared. All too often in his travels, he had overheard jilted lovers disparage their former significant others with the justification that "They were never good to begin with". Small wonder that, in his ninth form, he had christened them 'stupid apes' with their all or nothing conclusions and utter inability to really think about the world around them.
The soft sound of Rose's voice snapped him out of his reflections.
"...I loved Mickey. Still do. Always will... But Mickey... When he and I were.... he and I... We, well..."
The Doctor knew what she was hinting at: "Let's just say, he wasn't the one...?"
Rose nodded.
"A'right... but why me? I mean, other than the car - chicks dig the car, right?"
This drew a laugh. "Nine centuries of gallivanting through space and time and the last of the Time Lords is reduced to quoting Batman movies?"
He smiled. "Touché, Rose Tyler."
"Well, fair play to you, I do happen to dig 'the car'. But there's more to it than that."
He focused intently on her, curious to hear what she would say, how she would say it.
"You showed me a world I couldn't possibly begin to imagine. Got us in all sorts of jams. Put me in numerous end of the world situations..."
He reached out, took her hand in his, gave it a gentle squeeze.
"...And then you changed... and when you first changed into you... I mean.... I wasn't sure how much you had changed... If you would still care about me.... And, straightaway, you showed me that while your outside was different, you were still you. And you..."
Her heart was racing, he sensed.
"...What I mean is... I mean, you're an alien - no two ways about it... And yet you're probably the most human person I've ever known... You're endlessly compassionate, warm, considerate... But you're not to be crossed - I mean, your aim with a satsuma is testament to that."
He thought back to the Sycorax invasion briefly and of Jackie's odd friend. He also began to ponder the wild unpredictability of the regeneration process. "Isn't it funny," he mused, "how, sometimes I wind up more in touch with my Gallifreyan roots and the world sees me as eccentric, odd or strange and other times, I wind up more in touch with humanity." At this last thought, he briefly recalled his fifth and eighth forms - in those two particular incarnations, he had often been told by his then-companions how sweet, caring and compassionate he was, how human he seemed.
She pulled in close to him, snapping his attention back to her immediately.
"You have all of time and space at beck and call... and all you want is to share it with me... All I am is Rose Marion Tyler, the former shop assistant from Henrik's .... And..."
She was choking up, trying to say the words she felt in her heart.
"...And that's all I want you to be: Rose Marion Tyler," he softly finished for her.
They stood against the TARDIS, the stars shining brighter than ever. She rested her head on his shoulder.
"Doctor...?"
"Yes...?"
She sniffled. "Happy Valentine's Day. I love you."
Wiping tears from his own eyes, he replied.
"I love you, Rose. Happy Valentine's Day."
Under the glow of the moon and stars, they kissed.