The Doctor walked downstairs, figuring it was about early morning in space. Despite it not having morning or night in space, they generally kept up Earth's 24-hour timetable. It was about 8 in the morning, and Rose wasn't up quite yet. The Doctor walked to the console, running his hand over the familiar surface and feeling the TARDIS purr to life even more under his touch. All of the knobs and nodules contributed to the old and timeless machine that was his ship. Over the years, the Doctor had tried to get her to speak, to talk. Just a syllable or a word, even in Gallifreyan, would satisfy his need to be ever closer to the spaceship that had taken over his love life. Then there was Rose. The girl who had swirled into his life as he stole her like the TARDIS stole him some 800 years ago. Rose was awake now, walking downstairs wrapped in a blanket still in her silk jammies. The Doctor turned around, giving her a tight hug. They smiled simultaneously.
"Mornin'," she muttered quietly against his shoulder.
"Morning." They separated a little bit, Rose smiling devilishly. It was the smile that always made his hearts beat a little quicker, thrumming happily against inhuman ribcage. She leaned up, kissing him softly. It surprised him for a second, but he decided it wasn't unpleasant and so he kissed her back, molding their lips together for a perfect fit. She pulled away slightly, smiling.
"Let's go get breakfast."
"Yeah," he replied, clearing his throat. "Sounds good." She took his hand, leading him away from the purring TARDIS console. The beautiful, perfect piece of living machinery might be his wife, but maybe having a Mistress wouldn't be so terribly bad.