Five Time It Didn't Need Saying And Once It Did…

Disclaimer: Doctor Who would probably be a lot crazier if I owned it...I do however own a lot of love for TenRose...

A/N: Six little drabbles from Rose's POV and set through Series 2 (although this one is set during Parting of the Ways) in which Rose wants to say those three little words to the Doctor but doesn't quite get around to it. Titles: Graffiti, Hands, Mind, Chips, Fireworks, and Sand.

A/N Take Two: Please remember that all reviews are greatly appreciated so once you've finished reading, have a go at pressing the purdy li'l button at the bottom of the page...Pretty please with an even prettier Time Lord on top?

..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Graffiti

The council estate had always been grubby. It was one of the less well cared for London estates and she'd lived with it for nineteen tedious years. But this is something new, something different. Two words scattered across Space and Time, always leading to this epiphany and a big yellow truck.

A fairytale with an unknown ending. There is no guarantee of anything; no promise that the prince and princess will live happily ever after and won't die at the hands of the Wicked Witch and her army of shadows and nightmares. There are no adults to soothe her and tell her that it is all just a bad dream; this is the real world and the real world has monsters. But then, she supposes that they aren't stereotypical enough to be fairytale; no prince she'd ever read about wore leather, no princess worked as a shop assistant, and the noble steed had never been an unassuming blue box.

Saving the Universe with a tow-truck isn't typical either but maybe those words are the most fairytale thing about them. Engulfed in a golden haze, she has a lot of time to wonder about this; all that is, all that was, all that could be, all that must be, all that must not…but why does it hurt? The knowledge of every atom in existence pooling at the corners of her mind, pulling it apart cell by cell, thought by thought. Burning.

Vision is a haze of light and words and metal; a binary system of golden Vortex and one clear, shining goal. The nightmares become dust, the dust compounds into atoms and the atoms become nothing and all the while, there is one fine silver thread through the cloud of swirling thoughts in her mind; her love for the Doctor, visible to her overwrought mind, the mind of a nineteen-year-old girl in love for the first time, and the raw power and knowledge of a Time Machine that has loved the same man for nine centuries.

But he has trained them both well and the three words that the Bad Wolf really wants to say choke her and she realises that this gesture is enough for now, that it really doesn't need saying, and so only two short glittering sentences can tell him why she has done this, why her mind is burning for him…

"I want you safe. My Doctor."