Disclaimer: They're not mine. But I do own them on DVD, that's the closest I've got though.

Pairings: Rose/Ten II

A/N- this came to me while I was listening to 'Mine' by Taylor Swift. It is my first ever fic, and I'm not really sure if it makes much sense or not and therefore, I'm not exactly happy with it but here goes nothing…

Her Doctor

Rose was lying beside The Doctor in their bed, in the house that they had bought almost a year ago. The Doctor was asleep, something he seemed to do a lot of now that he was half human, and he seemed to enjoy it a lot more too, Rose thought as a small smile spread across The Doctor's face. So much had changed since he had saved her when she was just a normal nineteen-year-old girl, who only dreamt of seeing the stars, and he was the leather jacket wearing, grouchy alien with big ears (and nose), blue eyes, a northern accent and the loss of his race still a fresh pain, Rose mused to herself. He wasn't The Doctor she fell in love with a lifetime time ago, when she was just a teenager working in a shop. He was so much more than that now.

He was her best friend in this universe. The only one who understood how she felt and knew how to comfort her when she woke up in a cold sweat with tears running down her face, the one she turned to when she started to think too much about Mickey and the one thing in the whole universe that she felt she could truly call hers. Not something Pete's money had got them, not something Torchwood had given them, he was something she didn't ask for but was forever glad she had. He was her Doctor.

When she had to dress up for one of her Moms parties, he was the one that would convince her that she looked beautiful, the one who would make the party bearable just by being there, and, if she was feeling very lucky, dance with her. Every time she would ask, he would say 'fine. But just one. I mean it Rose Tyler, one dance!' and some how she would manage to turn one into two and two into three. But he would always let her.

Next to her The Doctor started to stir, pulling her out of her thoughts and then he let out a huff, as if he wasn't happy to be awake, which he probably wasn't Rose thought. He opened one eye and looked at her. "Isn't it my job to do all the thinking?" He asked with is voice a bit muffled by the pillow that he seemed strangely attached to, and Rose couldn't help but smile.

No. He wasn't the Doctor anymore, he was her Doctor. And she loved him for it.

So? Good? Bad? Ugly? Review and let me know what you think.