A/N: Here's my attempt at a Doctor Who oneshot. I love Rose with 10 but couldn't resist her meeting 11.

Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC.


Rose had never been one for sleep, especially after losing someone close. Someone who she thought would never leave her side. The Doctor. Not just her real Doctor, but her human Doctor. The one who was supposed to grow old with her and live out the rest of his human life as she would. Now that he was gone, Rose could feel herself giving up. Here in the parallel world she felt trapped, once again, while the real Doctor was still out there on his adventures.

After a week of grieving, Rose was determined to return and continue her position at Torchwood; resolving to think of something, anything, to find her way back to the Doctor as she had before. The human Doctor, despite his limited time here, already had Torchwood up and running in full swing - better than it had ever been before. The amount of knowledge and aptitude he was able to offer was vast and valuable. But now that he was gone, Torchwood had to make due without him.

Rose had to make due without him.

As these thoughts surged into Rose's mind, she sat awake in her bed, staring off into the darkness. The sound of wind gusting up against her window brought her back to reality then. What time was it now, anyway? She glanced over at her clock's dim glow. 1:05 am.

Rose let out a sigh. Another sleepless night, it seemed. Perhaps she should run into work early to get a start on things and make up for lost time. Although, what was the point when any contact with a parallel world was next to impossible without the Doctor's help? And without the Dalek's attack, the small gaps between their worlds had been sealed completely off. All of their past work was worthless for that reason.

Yet, Rose knew the Doctor would never give up. That's what kept her going.

Rose dressed and set a kettle on the stove. A good 'ol cuppa never took the pain away, but it soothed her. With her warm cup in hand, Rose sat on the couch and pulled a blanket over herself as she flipped on the telly, taking sips from her mint tea. She didn't pay attention to what was on, but supposed the background noise would be enough to drown out all the memories that were threatening to overwhelm her.

But the telly didn't succeed.

The pain that she had grown accustomed to was slowly making its way back, and she ached with every vivid detail that twirled around her mind.

How did this make any sense? She had lost him, found him, and now lost him again. Perhaps this was the universe's way of pointing out that it just wasn't meant to be - her and the Doctor. Traveling or living a life together. She had spent all that time trying to find him, only to have to say goodbye once more.

Rose's knuckles by now had turned white as her grip on the cup's handle began to falter. She set the cup down on the coffee table and relaxed back on the couch, settling that she should get an hour of sleep. Or at least try. She closed her eyes and soon drifted off.

A noise, an all too familiar noise, had awoken Rose. Her heart began to thud hard in her chest. She quickly stood to seek out the source of the noise. As she was leaving the living area, the sound from the telly caught her attention and caused her to freeze in the doorway leading to the kitchen. The tiny light of hope and certainty was all blown out upon hearing the distinct noises that came from the late night show. She glanced back at the flickering screen and, of course, it was an old 70's sci-fi.

That's it, Rose decided, she was losing her mind.

Unquestionably it wouldn't be him. That was made evident to her already, if not twice.

With an already loose grip on her emotions, Rose was thrown over the edge once more. She slid down on the door frame until she was sitting firmly on the ground. She rested her face in her hands, trying to retain her composure. But she couldn't. The tears began to sting her eyes and the piercing pain emitting from her gut returned. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them close to her chest as she buried her face in them.

It had only been minutes that Rose was on the floor when she heard a soft knock on her front door.

She briefly rubbed her swollen eyes and cheeks with the ends of her long-sleeved shirt and stood up. What time was it? And who was here to see her? Her mind instantly pictured Pete or Mickey. They both had worked beside her in Torchwood, and this wouldn't be the first early morning wake-up call from either. Now that Mickey was gone, it could be Jake. Perhaps even her mum, who had been stopping by without notice every other day it seemed to check in on her – but never this early, Rose thought. Rose threw a quick glance over her shoulder at the stove's clock. 3:00 am.

Rose refused to acknowledge another possibility of who could be out there. Yet, the image of opening the door to the Doctor in pinstripes was all she could picture. He would be out there, wearing his long, brown trench coat with his hands in his pockets, smiling that wide crooked grin of his at her while making some clever comment about the cold whether. Her heart began aching at the likelihood.

Rose went to flip the foyer light and front porch lights on, only to be reminded when no lights came on that they had simultaneously burnt out the other day. She peered through the peek hole, but the darkness of the night made it ambiguous as to who was standing there. She unbolted the latches and turned the handle, opening the door a quarter of the way to look out. The chilly winter air swirled in around her, causing her to clutch her elbows for warmth.

As she stood there with the door partially opened, she still could not recognize who stood before her, lingering in the shadows. The only source of illumination came from the streetlamps below where Rose could see the soft snow falling to the ground; each flake catching the light with an exquisite glisten. Rose brought her dissented focus back on the individual, who she could now clearly establish was a bloke. He was standing tall and lean with hands fidgeting anxiously at his sides. Although she could not pinpoint the precise details of his face, she could visibly deduce that he was regarding her very intensely. Much more so than she was of him.

"It's you." The man suddenly spoke, his voice low.

Taken back from his words, Rose cleared her throat. "Can I help you?" She asked, wearily. In a slow motion, she began to move behind the door for fortification. Must be some lost drunk, Rose thought.

As her eyes adjusted, Rose could make out a few more of his features. His dark hair that fell to his eyes was one, along with the outline of his face and the clothes he wore: a dark coat, dark pants, a light shirt, and...was that a bowtie? Rose nearly chuckled. But, still, she had never met this man before.

"Do I know you?" She asked impatiently after he didn't answer.

"Well, yes." The man's voice broke, then sounded somewhat poignant. "You once did, at least."

Rose narrowed her eyes at the man. The whole situation was daft and Rose wanted nothing more than to return to the couch and crawl up in her blankets to be consumed by the agony that was already eating away at her. Not to be speaking with some poor bloke on her front porch at three in the morning. Perhaps she should call Pete or even a cab for the poor fellow.

"I'm sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else. It's late, you better go - " Rose muttered, her voice becoming hoarse. She began closing the door when her eyes caught sight of something far off in the distance behind the man on the other side of the street. Something that was hidden, yet in plain sight. She had only seen it now because of the new angle.

Rose's eyes widened with shock as she held her stance, staring ahead at the blue box - that wonderful blue box. She blinked hard and, sure enough, it was still there when she opened her eyes. Rose's voice had caught in her throat. She wasn't sure what to do or say at that moment. How could any of this be real?

"I could never confuse you with another, Rose Tyler." The man's voice was low, her name rolling off his tongue with familiar ease, yet in a different voice, erasing away any doubt or disbelief Rose was feeling. It felt as though the tight clamp around her heart had finally vanished, allowing her to breathe again.

She brought her stunned eyes back at the man. Without needing any further words, Rose opened the door and rushed to him, her bare feet now covered in snow. Although he didn't have the same face, she knew it was him. The Doctor. Her real Doctor. She threw her arms over his shoulders and clutched onto him as if her life depended on it. The man, too, returned her embrace and wrapped an arm around her back and the other around her head, bringing her closer to him.

Not finding the words to say, Rose spoke the first thought on her mind. "You've gone and changed again." She nuzzled her face into the area where his neck and shoulder met, not wanting to let go if this was truly all a dream.

The Doctor shrugged while stroking his restless fingers through her hair. "Occupational hazard, I suppose. Although, not so bad if I do say so myself," he said approvingly.

"But you're...still you?" Rose couldn't help but tease, although the sadness in her voice was not overlooked, either. Not sad that he changed, no, but the type of forlorn reasoning she'd never see him again. Yet here he was, holding her closely, standing on her front porch as the snow fell peacefully around them.

"I'm still me."

"How are you here?" Rose whispered.

"I'm not entirely sure, didn't even expect it to work. An accident, really." His cool breath trickled upon her ear. His voice was that of desperation and longing, nearly mirroring her own.

However he was here, she decided that she did not care any longer.

The Doctor continued. "I heard, or more accurately..." He briefly paused, seeming to recall a dreadful memory. "...felt something not too long ago. And I had to confirm it to be sure. Before I knew it, or could even comprehend a theory as to how, I found myself outside your door, Rose Tyler." Rose could feel his grip around her tighten then. "Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry."

"'S alright," Rose quickly said, holding back sobs that were threatening to take over at the mere implication of her human Doctor.

They stood there for minutes, both refusing to let the other go. But the Doctor drew away to look her straight in the eyes - ancient eyes beholding into hers. "I don't have much time," he spoke, his hands had moved up to her face. His thumb gently brushed along her cheek, wiping away the tears she could no longer hold back. He couldn't leave her. Not again. "Whatever has so kindly allowed me to come here won't last much longer. I can feel the TARDIS begin to - "

Before Rose could process her reply, or before the Doctor could finish, the words had already slipped out past her lips in a soft, but eager plea.

"Take me with you."

Rose watched the many emotions crossing the Doctor's face from her simple request. His face was only inches away from hers. And, finally, the corners of his lips curved up into a manic grin as he now rested his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"Rose Tyler, I thought you'd never ask."


A/N: Please let me know what you think :)