A/N: Set the night they stay over at Torchwood House in Tooth and Claw (i.e. after werewolf defeated, before they get knighted)
At the End of the Day
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she breathes out roughly. "Yeah. All over now, eh?"
He confirms this with a sure nod. "Yes. All over." He eyes her carefully, assessing her form to check for any injuries.
She catches him looking and he hastily flickers his gaze elsewhere. Elsewhere, which just so happens to be the rather imposing bed situated in the middle of the room. He stares at it for a while, and Rose brings him out of his contemplation with a request.
"You're going to stay in here with me, yeah?" she asks quietly, moving over to the bed and sitting down tentatively.
He arches an eyebrow. "Weeelll, strictly speaking, it would be very improper in such a repressive period of British history to do such a thing. But then again, we did just save the Queen from being bitten by a werewolf, so I think she can forgive us a little impropriety." He sits down beside her with a bounce, waggling his eyebrows.
Rose smiles, and lies down. The Doctor instantly shifts, turning onto his side and propping up his chin with his hand to look at her with a soft smile on his face.
"What?" she asks after a while, self-consciously tucking her hair behind her ear. The Doctor opens his mouth, looking like he's about to say something for a moment, but then stops himself. "Doctor?" she prompts.
He coughs, a little nervous. "I was just thinking," he replies, shrugging a shoulder.
"Well, yeah. But what about?"
He meets her gaze steadily. "You."
She tries not to flush under his watchful eyes. "Me?" she inquires nonchalantly.
He nods, his smile growing. "Today...I know it was dangerous. I'm sorry you had to see what you saw, with the werewolf and...well. Anyway. What I wanted to say was, thank you."
"What for?" she asks, distractedly taking his free hand and playing with his fingers where she lets his palm rest flat against her stomach.
If he notices her unconscious movement he doesn't show it, just leaves his hand where she's brought it. "For finding the fun in it all. The thrill of the adventure. You get that as much as I do; not many people would be able to stand it, but you – you thrive on that adrenaline, that danger. You always have, since day one. Similarly, we – you and me – we enjoy the quiet days just as much. I was just pondering how nice that is. That we both love the exciting, mysterious adventures; but likewise, are both perfectly content to sit on a bench in a park or by the seaside eating chips or something. I think that's why we - " he cuts himself off sharply.
Rose, whose smile has been growing exponentially at his words, now furrows her brow, waiting for him to continue. When he doesn't, she asks, "You think that's why we what?"
"Well," he says, clearing his throat. "Get on so well, I suppose."
She grins. "Well, obviously." He averts his eyes, seemingly embarrassed. She urges him to explain himself, "What's going on? Why are you acting weird?"
"I'm not!" he insists defensively. "Just saying, that's all." There's a pause before he mumbles, "I'm glad we found each other."
Rose raises an eyebrow. "Yeah. Me too," she replies bemusedly, unsure why he appears to have gotten all sentimental on her all of a sudden. "Listen, are you sure you're alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" he answers, turning his hand over to link his fingers with hers, unable to ignore her absent fiddling any longer. And he honestly means it; he's on an adventure with his best friend and, well, though he'd never tell her this, from the way his emotional confessions have played out thus far, she really does make him incredibly, immutably happy. True, lives had been lost tonight, but all in all it had been a pretty giddy evening; and, weeelll. The feel of her hand in his always results with him in a good mood. Perhaps too good, often.
"Dunno," she says suspiciously, "You're just being very...open, I suppose. It's odd."
"Am I not normally open with you?"
"Well, sometimes. But not often of your own accord."
"I'll work on that, someday soon," he promises, a twinkle in his eye, and she giggles.
"Nice to hear," she replies. She lets out a delighted squeak of surprise when he tugs her closer, and curls into him expertly.
"You'd better get some sleep," he murmurs into her hair, wrapping his arms around her as she snuggles into his side.
"Nah, not tired," she mumbles, before yawning widely and loudly to accidently juxtapose her statement.
The Doctor chuckles warmly and she presses her ear against his chest more firmly to feel the vibrations of his gentle laughter run through her comfortingly. "I think you are," he whispers, his breath tickling her forehead.
She loops her arm around his waist to give him a half-hug in her tiredness. "Night, then."
"Goodnight, Rose Tyler," he replies, breathing out her name like it's something to be awed. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to the way he says her name. She doesn't think she'll ever want to.