She doesn't do it often. Of course not. How could she when the bright, shining orbs of The Doctor were always implanted on her, all too eager to take her everywhere and anywhere in no time at all?

But that's not to say she's never done it before. How could she not? It had occurred, and struck her thoughts quite a few times. Especially while she was still struggling to come to grips with The Doctors new face. But she'd never really had the guts to do it. Part of her feared what would happen if The Doctor found out, what he would think of her, of her faith in him- although a majority of herself simply feared that she would break down upon seeing it.

But Rose Tyler wasn't weak, and it had become instinct to swallow her fears ever since she met the wondrous Time Lord. So she had resolved to do it for him. Because the blonde missed him, and she just needed the comfort and serenity his voice supplied. And although the simulation was only that- a simulation, a pale resemblance of the safety he used cast over, still pooled through her body, coursing through her veins.

All she had to do was wait. Wait until he'd left to pick up a few TARDIS parts, or just simply leave the blue box; It was only then she dared to approach the console with intentions in mind. She would stand silently, remaining very still and rigid in front of the extravagant field of buttons and levers. She wasn't sure how she'd known what button to press that first time. Some part of her suspected that the TARDIS was aiding her in some way, helping her. Guiding her to the button she had thought about countless times. The very same button a single finger hovered over for a few moments before Rose finally dared to press down.

The golden-haired girl was never prepared for the overall sudden attack his northern voice had on her senses—no matter how many time she'd pressed it. His voice was oh so very low, and commanding, hints of over a life time of loneliness and a compassion he'd built up in the darkest of times draping through his tone; and that was enough to leave the valiant child frozen in place, her heart pounding ruthlessly in her chest and her breath catching in her throat as he echoed throughout the control room, and her entirety. "This is Emergency Programme One. Rose, now listen, this is important. If thi-"

Each word beat down on her heart like a struck of brutal thunder, cracking past the wall she'd put up stop the flood gates from opening and all the grief from spilling out. "And I bet you're fussing and moaning now, typical. But hold on, and just listen a bit more. The TARDIS can never return for m-" She'd said she would keep it together for him. That she'd stay strong for him. Promised herself. But the pink and yellow girl couldn't help it. The familiar burn had erupted at her tear ducts, and that lump had begun to rise in the back of her throat.

"And if you wanna remember me, then you can do one thing. That's all, one thing." Yes, she wanted to remember him. She was so desperately afraid of forgetting him. Forgetting what he'd shown her, and what she'd found because of him. She was terribly frightened that her depiction of her first Doctor would mold into her current one. They were different. Two different men. Both The Doctor. But two completely different men, and she wouldn't ever forget that.

There were so many different things she wanted to say to him. Needed to say. She wanted to apologize for stripping him of his life, for tearing him away from her, for being the reason they were separated, for being so irrevocably stupid and careless. She was the reason he was gone; and she was never ready to say goodbye. She'd never wanted to let him go. "Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose. Have a fantastic life."

The first few times after regeneration The Doctor would walk into the TARDIS to see a violently sobbing Rose, her shoulders quivering as she used the console for support to hold herself up, the projection of his old self still flickering- and what else could he do but walk over to her and envelope her in his warm arms? Arms he knew she didn't want. The wrong man, he'd thought. She didn't want him to hold her. And other times Rose was left to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart by herself, trudging back to her room before he got back – something she preferred to do. He shouldn't have to witness that. He didn't deserve to be treated that way.

However her little trips to emergency programme one had become less frequent after the laughter, and the grins of the 'stuff of legend' began to ensue. After they'd finally settled down. And no. It wasn't because she was forgetting him, as she'd feared. Wasn't because she'd decided she liked her new, new Doctor better.

It was because she realized that she didn't need some daft recording to remember him. Her first Doctor was forever imprinted on her heart, and she wasn't about to forget him- ever. Rose came to her own conclusion that she was lucky enough to get to witness what her first Doctor had turned into. Got to see the evolution that from that man to this truth was, her new, new Doctor became apart of her just as much as her former one, and part of him served as a reminder of the compassion her Doctor had within him.

Tears ran, and souls broke on that treacherous day on Bad Wolf Bay. Rose had broken down. Snapped. It wasn't just because he'd disappeared. Cut off right before she could hear the words she'd been yearning for. But he'd left her with no reminders. No reminders of her new, new Doctor. No reminders of her first Doctor. No emergency programme one. No TARDIS. No hand to hold. No heart to share. No life to share with. Nothing.

But it was before she managed to cross the unfathomable void to reunite with The Doctor once again, that she realized she was wrong. She didn't need any physical reminders. Why would she? How could've she been so daft? Everything The Doctor had ever shown her, every part of him had embedded itself within her heart, and as long as she kept living, she would be able to remember him.

She was left on the treacherous beach again. Before she would've said- unlike the last time, this time left with a reminder. But the Meta-Crisis Doctor wasn't there to serve as a reminder of the two men she had lost. He was there to share the memories she had. After all they were the only two on this parallel word whose hearts thudded to the same tune of the universe.

While attempting not to laugh (and failing miserably) Rose Tyler watched as her Doctor attempted to place the star right on the very top of the Christmas tree, stubbornly refusing her help, or the aid of a chair- and while she sat there, a bouncing smile quivered up at her lips, a faint northern accent drifted into her mind- "And if you wanna remember me, then you can do one thing. That's all, one thing. Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose. Have a fantastic life." There were no tears this time. A slight slither of shock perhaps. But no sadness. She missed him everyday. Both of them – but she'd never forget them, nor everything they'd ever done for her.

Grinning radiantly now, the pink and yellow girl suddenly bounds over to join The Doctor who seems to be rather distressed with the fact that the star he had spent at least half an hour putting up, seemed to be awfully crooked - however he's not quite as focused for much longer, because Rose has hoisted herself up onto the tips of her toes to snog him senseless, arms throwing around his neck, in which point he eagerly begins to reciprocate

All signs of distress melting away, the pair pulled away for air and wildly shining eyes, and dazed grins tugged up at their lips. Instead of asking what brought that on, the part-Time Lord gestured to the star with one of his free hands, and asked- "What do you think?" answering with a breathless kind of laugh that only spurred on The Doctors grin, Rose barely tosses the star a single glance before murmuring. "Fantastic."