WARNING: M-rated. Sure I don't have to tell you that M means Mature hehe. Still, you're all mature, sensible people yourselves (well, some of you are) and I'm sure you won't find this too bad. It contains sex, but it's not all that explicit. Not bad at all, really. I'm making it out to be worse that it is. Still, better safe than sorry, eh? Don't want to offend anyone in this day and age, might get an ASBO…

Part 3 of 3. Thanks to everyone who's read this. It's dedicated to everyone who has reviewed and/or has taken issue with the supreme nasty unfairness that is Doomsday. Hope you enjoy.

A/N: Woo last chapter! Hope it's good and all that jazz. Please review! Jenni xx

He lowers his head towards her again, determined to take away the pain from both of them before this night is over. Or, at the very least, make them both forget it for a little while so they can feel normal again, feel alive.

'Tell me to stop,' he says, his lips hovering centimetres away from hers.

He shifts to lie over her, one hand cupping her cheek gently. He can see the emotions warring in her eyes as she considers his words. Lust and want, hesitation and slight doubt all flicker over her face before she gives him a small smile and he sees in her what he is currently feeling himself: need. The need to give in to desire and temptation for a while, the need to feel at one with someone who knows the way you're feeling, the need to let go and fall.

'Don't stop,' she says, although the words are barely audible.

She keeps her hands on his chest, pressed firmly over his hearts as though she is checking he is still with her. Her breath catches in her throat as he brings his face close so that his nose touches against hers, his breath warm over her mouth and chin. She unconsciously strains upwards to be closer to him, the last few shards of doubt about what she is certain is going to happen disappearing as he closes in around her. The slight nervous feeling remains in her stomach.

'Just forget it all,' he whispers, referring to all the horrific events that have happened today. He kisses her softly, sparks of life flying through him as soon as he touches his lips to hers and he wonders why they haven't been doing this all along. Pulling back slightly, he speaks again. 'Focus on me, angel,' he says. 'Let it all go.'

He is amazed by how much a simple kiss can repair the damage that has been done to him. He feels as though wounds are closing, the darkness is fleeing and windows of opportunities and light are opening up inside him, all his senses flooded with the brightness that is his Rose. He becomes more confident that everything will be okay, that he will be able to fix her as his mouth moves over hers in that timeless dance that he is sure will never get old.

One of her legs slides between his as her hands move around to run over his back, her touch making him tremble above her. She presses down lightly between his shoulder blades, the covers slipping downwards to make him shiver in the cool of the air. He presses closer to her for warmth, his chest brushing against hers lightly. He starts to shake as he locks his gaze with hers, suddenly overcome with emotion for the woman in his arms.

'Rose,' he says, her name like a benediction to him. His hands run over her skin in reverence before he leans down for another kiss.

He fights with the intensity of his emotions, determined to take this slowly and make it last. He is all too aware that once this is over they will have to deal with their nightmarish situation once more. He touches her lips with his tongue, slowly learning the taste of her, her texture and the way she moves beneath him.

She tastes like most others he has kissed; that slightly off-water taste, like the aftertaste of tea or rainwater on a warm summer day. But the feel of her is different; she fits with him better than anyone ever has before, her lips moving to meet his halfway and her tongue sliding along his as he uses one hand to open her mouth so that he can explore her better.

He learns the lines of her mouth, the ridges of her teeth and the strangely soft roughness of her tongue, all thoughts of death and loss gone from his head as he lets himself fall for her again and again, holding her against him like she is something precious. He lets his hand wander to her breast, touching her gently with his eyes on her face so he can learn her reactions. He smiles into their kiss as her hands flex against his back, pulling him against her and trapping his hand in between them. He moves to suck on the pulse in her neck, loving the fact that it begins to throb faster when his lips connect with her skin.

Rose moves her hands down to run over the Doctor's hips, tracing the bone and soft flesh with her fingers, intent on exploring him as he is her. She wants to cry at the things he is doing to her, his feather-light touches and delicate caresses breaking her wide open and leaving her vulnerable and exposed in his arms. And yet it feels amazing, his every touch amplified one million times by the intensity of the situation and the ebb and flow of the emotion between them. She is more than willing for this to go on forever, her pain a distant memory at the back of her mind now that they are sharing in it together, revelling in it and squashing it down. She gasps as he slides his hand down between her legs, touching her carefully to test if she is ready for him.

'Okay?' he breathes, his free hand brushing her hair from her face and his lips brushing against hers, reluctant to move even a hair's breadth away from her.

She nods and gasps again, feeling him move against her as he moves his hand away to rest at her waist. 'Yes,' she whispers, kissing him once more.

They cling to one another as he slowly presses inside her, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his skin as he grapples with the remainder of his self-control.

'It's okay,' she tells him, knowing in this moment that everything will turn out to be okay, feeling good that she can muster the strength to reassure him in the situation. She whispers into his ear: 'Let it all go.'

And he does, pushing into her as far as he can before holding himself still and pulling his face back so he can read her expression. Something shatters in his chest as he sees the trust in her eyes alongside the tears inevitably produced by such a powerful and emotional act. He doesn't think he has ever felt anything quite this incredible or intense despite his nine-hundred years worth of experiences. 'Rose,' he says, unsure that he would be able to say anything else even if he wanted to. As it is, her name is the only word he wants to speak.

He begins to move within her slowly, not surprised when the tears start to fall from them both. It was always going to be this way, he realises; no matter how they came together, they would never have been able to avoid the crushing intensity of their union. It represents so much, this act, not least trust and care and devotion and love. Love, the one he is the most afraid of but the one that means the most. And there is no escaping it now.

He shifts to kiss her again, the slight change in angle causing him to hit her deeper, making her tremble against him and her tears becoming audible sobs in the hush of the room. It is hard and soft, fast and slow all at once and he hears his cries join with hers as he feels himself losing to the whirlwind of emotion and need coursing through him. It's sweet and bitter, beautiful and harsh, amazing ecstasy and complete agony and anguish all at once.

Neither of them last long, breaking apart at the same time with cries to God and other deities, breathing each other's names out as they come down from their shared high to lie together, faces wet from crying and sweat soaking them both. They shiver simultaneously as the cool air breaks through their contented haze, and he reaches to pull the blankets up around them once more.

Her hands grip his arms as he rolls to cradle her against his chest, his lips pressed into her hair as the trembles subside gradually. They are silent for a long while, unmoving, and he waits until he feels her grow heavy with sleep against him before shifting her slightly in his arms and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. His own eyelids are becoming heavy now, and he allows them to close. His body relaxes into sleep around her, the atmosphere around them both considerably lighter than it was when they had begun.

Two days later, they sit at the kitchen table together sharing yet another cup of tea. He has come to realise how much he cherishes these moments with her, these small acts that bring him more pleasure than he ever would have thought possible. It's even better now he gets to hold her in his arms whilst they drink, he muses.

He lets the scalding liquid burn his throat as he swallows, still needing the slight pain it brings to remind him of all that has been lost and everything that has hurt them. He cannot afford to be too happy, or else it will hurt all the more when it all finally comes to an end. He places his cup on the table so he can run his hand over her arm as she sits leaning against him, one hand clutched around her own burning hot mug as it rests on the table.

She has been quiet over the last couple of days, and he knows that she is working everything out in her head, coming to terms with what has happened and the way everything will have to alter now the universe has changed so much. She has cried for her mother, for Mickey and her father, alternating between pulling him close and pushing him away whilst she battled with the emotions inside her. She has apologised every time she has let a tear fall, and he has told her not to apologise every time the word "sorry" has left her mouth. 'You always say it,' she had said to him in retaliation when she had needed to feel guilty and hadn't been able to take his insisting that none of it is her fault.

She shifts against him now, leaning her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. She feels better than she did, starting to accept the choice she made and the consequences of her actions. She just wishes that it didn't have to hurt so much, but she knows she never would have been able to cope in the other universe- never would have been able to cope without him. She knows she would have come through it eventually and lived a good life- for him, all for him- but it would never have been the same. At least here, in the universe she knows and thinks of as her own, there will always be the chance of him coming back even if he does one day decide to leave her behind.

'Doctor,' she says, suddenly feeling selfish for spending the last few days worried about her own emotions without stopping to see if he is okay.

'Rose,' he replies, brushing his lips against her hair before taking another sip of tea.

'Are you all right?' She rests her hand on his thigh and squeezes gently, unable to help the brief smile that flashes over her face when he splutters slightly at her touch.

He relaxes back into her and nods, his cheek grazing her hair. 'Of course I am,' he says. 'I'm always all right. Why wouldn't I be?'

'You had to make hard choices too… that day,' she says, her voice small. She can never know the enormity of his responsibilities as the last remaining Time Lord, the sacrifices he has to make in order to ensure the stability and relatively smooth running of the universe.

'No more than any other day,' he tells her, glad she cannot see the look in his eyes. He doesn't want her to know that choosing between her and the Earth is one of the hardest decisions he has ever had to make, although he suspects that on some level she must already know. 'You get used to it after a while,' he says matter-of-factly, before frowning and dropping his head to her shoulder, burying his face in her neck. 'Although I hope you never have to,' he whispers. 'I don't want you to have to know what that's like, making hundreds of choices that could affect billions of lives. I don't want you to understand that.' He pauses and kisses the place where her shoulder meets her throat, smiling at the way her breath hitches at his light touch. He sobers up again. 'I hate that you've already had to make the choices you have.'

She strokes his hair, kisses his head where it lies against her, wanting to sooth him as though he is a child rather than a nine-hundred year old Time Lord who has spent most of his life alone. 'It was all my decision, Doctor,' she tells him for what must be the hundredth time in two days. 'It's not your fault.'

He sighs. 'I know that,' he says. 'I just wish I could do something more, something to make it easier…' He straightens up, a big smile on his face before jumping up and grabbing her hand to tug her to stand beside him. 'Maybe I can do something!'

He keeps his grip on her hand as he tows her from the kitchen and drags her through the TARDIS into the control room. He lets her go and runs to the console, leaving her watching him bemusedly as he frantically presses buttons, his life and energy suddenly springing back into action. He turns to her. 'Rose!' he exclaims, hopping like an excited child. 'There are still a few final cracks left between the universes. I have to heal them but… Maybe I could keep one of them open long enough for you to say goodbye.'

'You mean I could see my mum?' She moves to stand next to him, looking up into his face.

'Yes,' he tells her. 'Well, no, not really… Well, sort of. You could see her, but you wouldn't be able to be there, if you get what I mean.'

She nods. 'I get you. Like a projection-type thing.'

'Exactly!' He grins wildly for a moment before the expression drops off his face and he frowns, hands coming up to grip her shoulders, bending down slightly so his eyes are level with hers. 'Would you want to do that, Rose? Would you want to see her to say goodbye? Or would it be too much… too final?'

She doesn't even have to hesitate to think about it. 'I want to do it.'

He nods and lets her go. 'Okay, then. Give me a few hours to sort it out. But you have to know; there's no way to get her back. And there's no way to get you there. I'm sorry.'

She feels the tears welling up inside her again, knowing that this is the last thing he can do for her before this existence becomes permanent, before her life is packed once and for all inside a blue box that's bigger on the inside than it is on the out. 'I know. I knew that when I chose to stay here, remember?'

'Good.' He says the word in an inconsequential manner, but they both know it means more than that, that he had to test to make sure she understands what is about to happen, that she comprehends the permanence of a goodbye. Especially this goodbye.

He turns to work on the console, pressing buttons and entering coordinates, pulling levers and hitting things when they don't work first time. She turns to walk away, but his voice stops her before she has gone three steps. It reminds her of the other day, the day that everything changed. 'Rose?' he calls.

She stops. 'Yes?'

'Why didn't you stay with your mother?'

She shakes slightly, a tear slipping down her cheek when she thinks of what she has lost and all that she has gained, and she can't decide which hurts more. 'Because I wanted to stay with you,' she tells him honestly.

He sucks in a loud breath and is quiet for a long time. She waits for him, unmoving, trying to stop herself from trembling. When he finally speaks, his voice is disbelieving, incredulous, and deeper than it normally is. 'Why?' he asks, as though it is an absurd thing.

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, shakes her head to clear her tears and opens her eyes again. 'Because I love you.'

Time stands still for seconds, minutes, hours, an eternity. In that gap she can feel the TARDIS hurtling through space, sense the energy of a billion alien suns and hear the roar of life throughout the cosmos. Nothing happens, and yet everything changes.

Then she hears his footsteps behind her, feels his hands touch her waist and his lips ghost over her hair. He turns her to face him. She looks up at him, terrified that she has destroyed the delicate existence that they share, that everything has just shattered. He surprises her.

He smiles softly, touches her face and her hair, runs one hand lightly down her back and chuckles when she shivers. He holds her body tenderly against his and rests his forehead on hers so that she can feel his warm breath on her face, drying any tears she may have been thinking of crying. 'That's good,' he says finally, then laughs quietly. 'And quite right, too.'

She smiles back at him, still unsure as she hesitantly slips her arms around his waist.

He nods at her action, moving to press himself more firmly against her and in that moment she can feel the result of what her words have done to him. 'Rose,' he says, stroking her hair away from her face as his breath hitches in his throat, tension coursing through him as he prepares to say words he probably hasn't uttered out loud in centuries. He kisses her, taking the time to collect himself. His head is spinning from her declaration, uncertain why she should love someone like him, who has been the cause for so much death and destruction in this universe. But, he decides, enough self-deprecating philosophising for today. This situation is a kind of perfection he doesn't get to experience very often, and he wants to make the most of it. 'Oh angel, I love you,' he says, surprising even himself with the force behind his words. 'I love you so much.'

He kisses her again before she has time to respond, catching her lips with his and moving his mouth over hers slowly. Suddenly, he is unsure of what to do next, of how to end the moment. He wonders if perhaps they should save the cross-universe message-delivering until later and he should take her to his bed and worship her in one hundred different ways to prove the truth behind his words, or whether it would say more to her if he did the chivalrous and noble thing- the right thing- and helped her to say goodbye to her mother. Slowly, reluctantly, he pulls away from her mouth but keeps his body pressed to hers as he speaks. 'I believe…' Oh, that's croaky. He clears his throat. 'I believe we have a goodbye to make?'

His eyes search hers, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret on her face. He finds none, and it belatedly occurs to him that perhaps if he'd told her he loves her sooner, she would have felt better about the whole messed-up situation than she has for the past couple of days.

She nods. 'Yeah. That would be good. I'll go and make some more tea.'

He smiles, kissing her temple as he allows her to slip from his grasp. 'Okay.'

She stops on her way out of the room. 'Thank you, Doctor,' she says.

He frowns. 'For what?'

She shrugs. 'For this, for helping. Everything. Anything.'

'Well, you're more than welcome.'

She smiles at him, a happy smile that reaches her eyes for the first time in days. He mimics the gesture as she turns and walks to the edge of the room, intent on going to make that cup of tea.

'Rose?' He calls her back to him just as she disappears from sight. There is a slight pause before she shuffles back into view. She says nothing, just standing and looking at him from across the room. 'I… ah…' he stutters, before sighing and shaking his head. Looking up, he fixes her in place with his gaze, his face deadly serious. 'I meant every word,' he tells her sincerely.

'I know.' She nods, and he can see the same reflected in her eyes.

'Everything will be all right,' he tells her softly, nodding towards the console, knowing that she will know what he means.

'I know,' she tells him again, smiling and closing her eyes momentarily before slowly turning and exiting the control room.

He hears her footsteps disappearing off down the corridor and turns back to the task in hand. He busies himself with sealing off cracks in the universe whilst trying to find a suitable place to take the TARDIS so they can keep a link open long enough for Rose to say goodbye to her mother. His brave, strong Rose. He loves her more than he can tell her for coming through and accepting the downside of her decision to stay with him. He doesn't let himself think about the loss that will one day surely come; the day that he will lose her, too. He curses himself for telling her that this is permanent, when really he knows it is anything but. But then, he thinks, she must know that as well. They are both changed, altered, more jaded and cynical. He can't quite decide whether it's a good thing or a bad one, before deciding that he doesn't particularly care. Because she believes in him when no one else does, she gives him a reason to fight and to live despite all that he has put her through, all the things that have been done to her because of him.

And because she loves him, and for now, that is enough to make him feel reborn.

A/N: Woo, it's finished! Sorry about the crummy ending… I had issues with it LOL. It just kept growing and growing and… Well, you can probably tell it's not my finest plot resolution. Ahh well… Please leave a last review! Merry Christmas, Jenni xx