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Author's Note: I blame part of this fic on my enjoyment of padawanpooh's wonderful 'Facets' story. So, I tip my hat to her. Thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta nnwest.

What Is Love?
by Gillian Taylor

Chapter One

What use are emotions if you will not save the woman you love?

The TARDIS' hum was muted, the lights dimmed for the sake of the human inhabitant who slumbered within her walls. It was night on the timeship, yet the Doctor's mind would not rest. He sat on the floor, leaning against one of the pillars in the console room. His arms encircled his knees as he stared into the distance, playing the Dalek's words in his mind over and over again.

Save.

He wanted to protect her, keep her safe, keep her alive. The Time Lord had begun to recognise that there was little that he would not do for Rose Tyler if only to see her smile or to see her laugh. He would willingly, unhestitatingly, unerringly give his life for her. He would give his lives for her. He would have done that for any of his companions. Any one of them.

Woman.

There had been many women that had travelled with him over the years. Eventually they had all left him to seek out lives of their own, to marry, or to explore the universe. He had grieved their departure, yet why did his hearts pound in fear at the thought of Rose leaving him? Of Rose on the arm of another man, wearing his ring?

Love.

Once, long ago, he had convinced himself that giving in to emotions was a mistake. It was a petty human failing to fall in love, to make love, to bind oneself to one person always. His love, he had resolutely decided, was for the universe. Then why did his mind race with thoughts of her? Why did his breath catch every time she walked into a room? Why did he pine for her? If it was not love, what could it be? Was the Dalek right? Could he be in love with Rose Tyler?

What use are emotions if you will not save the woman you love?

What label could he give this feeling but love? He longed to talk to someone, anyone, about the turbulent emotions that collided in his mind yet he could not tell Rose. His expression grew determined as he stood, climbed the ramp to the console and deftly set the coordinates. While Rose slept, he would find his answers.

With a grinding moan, the TARDIS took flight.

The light filtered through the drawn blinds in long beams, etching patterns of shadows and light on the mahogany desk. Late afternoon was always his favorite time of day, not because it the only time that the sun entered his office but because of what it held. Late afternoon was full of promise; full of something that he could not quantify or explain. It promised release to the weary, time for rest and relaxation before the morning began the cycle anew.

The Brigadier pushed away from the desk with a drained sigh. Though he had formally retired from active duty some time ago, he still found himself called into service when something untoward happened in the world. He stood and approached the window, lifting the shades to look out on Doris' gardens. The view normally soothed him, but he felt something fundamental had changed in the universe. He did not start when he heard the cleared throat behind him, instead smiling as he turned. "Hello, Doctor."

The tall leather clad man looked startled when he named him, as if he were not expecting to be recognised. "You know it's me?"

"Of course I know it's you." Alistair held out his hand, shaking the Time Lord's hand warmly. "It doesn't matter how many times you change your skin, the eyes give you away. Well, that and the blue police box parked by my rhododendrons."

The Doctor grinned. "There is that. It's good to see you again, Brigadier. Though, do me a favour and don't tell me that I was by. Time gets a little finicky if I end up with foreknowledge of what's to come."

"Quite right. Can I offer you some tea? I'm sure Doris has some on the stove if...Oh, have I introduced you to Doris?" He recalled that he had yet to introduce him to his wife.

"Actually you have, just not yet. It'd be best if I don't meet her now, though if you understand. And no tea for me, thanks."

"Hmmm...good point." He knew better than to try and wrap his mind around the peculiarities of time travel. It tended to give him a headache. The Brigadier gestured towards one of the chairs, sitting back in his desk chair with a soft squeak. "What can I do for you, Doctor?"

He dropped his eyes for a moment, as if now that he was there he had no idea how to begin. The Doctor sighed softly as he began, "I was wondering if I could ask you a question."

"Of course." The response was immediate and heart felt. There was something bothering his old friend—something that he suspected was quite important.

"What's love?"

The former UNIT commander rocked back in his chair, his full attention now trained on the Time Lord. For the Doctor to ask that question...what could it mean? "I'm not quite sure I follow. Love in the general sense, or the romantic one?"

"Yes." There was a hint of the emotion in his eyes, an inkling of the love he was asking about.

"You know what love is, Doctor. Every time you help save this planet, every time you defeat evil, you do that out of love. It is your strongest gift, your great capacity, your love of the universe. It is the desire to protect and to cherish others. You embody love in that aspect."

That was not it. That was not what he was searching for, for that did not even begin to equate with how he felt about Rose. The Doctor's attention was drawn back to the Brigadier as he continued speaking.

"When it comes to romantic love, I can only draw on my experiences with Doris. When you meet the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, there's nothing quite like it. For a moment, you can feel the spin of the Earth, you know that you're tumbling through space secured to this planet only by the thinest of threads that begins and ends with her. It's when you live for her and her happiness. Love is when you know that you had lived a half life without her. That's what love is, at least to me, though I'm no expert by any means."

The Time Lord shook his head. "You are an expert, Brigadier. A soldier with the soul of a poet."

"Did I answer your question?"

"In part. I need to get going. Planets to save and all that." He stood with a creak of leather, holding out his hand for the UNIT officer to take. "I'll be seeing you, Alistair."

The Brigadier took the hand and held it firmly, seeking and catching his eyes. "Doctor, if you love her you have to tell her."

"I never said..." he protested.

"You don't have to. When someone knows you as well as I do, there's little you can hide from me."

The Doctor offered him a shadow of a smile and quietly withdrew, all without confirming or denying his guess.

When the familiar wheezing groan echoed through the gardens, the Brigadier watched the TARDIS disappear into the vortex. Whoever she was, he knew that she had to be quite special to capture the hearts of his old friend. "Tell her," he repeated his words from earlier, sending the thought on temporal winds. However, he knew that there was little chance that he would ever find if the Time Lord had followed his advice.

Chapter Two

The flats were simple affairs, perfect starter homes for just married couples. The Doctor juggled the flowers and a box of candies as he knocked on the door to the Chesterton residence. "Ian, get that would you?" a familiar voice filtered through the wooden barrier which swung open to reveal a slightly older Ian from what he had remembered.

"Ian, good to see you. Congratulations on the nuptials," he handed the startled man the flowers and candies and brushed past him.

Ian sputtered and turned. "Wait a minute! Who do you think you are?"

"Ian? Who is it?" Barbara asked as she walked into the room. She stopped and stared at the leather clad man, her eyes widening as she took in the overly large ears and his stance. For a moment, the man's features flickered in her mind to be replaced with a white haired man and a warm smile. "Doctor?" she questioned incredulously, blinking away the image. "No, it can't be."

The Doctor grinned. "Hello, Barbara. Knew you'd get it before Ian over there."

Ian Chesterton's knees felt as if they were about to give out on him as he stumbled to one of the chairs. "Doctor?! How, why, how..."

The Time Lord brushed off his questions. "I don't have much time, but I wanted to ask you a question. You, specifically, Barbara."

She started, her eyes widening as she registered his words. "You came here to ask me a question?"

"Yup." He searched her eyes for a moment before continuing. "What's love?"

It was Barbara's turn to search for a chair before her knees gave out. "It just...is. I think Shakespeare said it best: 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds. Admit impediments: love is not love. Which alters when it alteration finds.'"

"And is that how you felt when you met Ian?"

"That," she admitted, smiling at her husband, "Came later. First there was friendship—love was a natural result."

He frowned. First the Brigadier, and now Barbara seemed to confirm his emotions. Could it be? Could he be in love? Shaking off his thoughts, the Doctor turned. "Thanks, Barbara, Ian. I'll see you around."

"Oh no you don't. You don't get to walk in here, ask a question like that, and then swan off like nothing happened. What's this about Doctor?" Ian stood, blocking the door.

The Time Lord seemed exasperated. "I thought that was obvious. I wanted to ask Barbara a question. She answered it. Now I'm off. Planets to save, megalomaniacs to stop, the usual."

"You're in love." Barbara spoke the words in wonder.

Vaguely the Doctor wondered when his emotions had become an open book. "I never..."

"No, you don't have to say anything, Doctor. Go on. Ian, get out of his way," she instructed her husband, ignoring the glare he shot her way.

"Thank you," he whispered, turning the knob.

Before he left, Barbara asked, "Doctor, how's Susan?"

A flicker of pain danced in his gaze, swirling with the other emotions that ran rampant through his mind. "She's dead." Without waiting to answer their inevitable questions, the Doctor slipped out the door.

The man stood in shadows, his expression hidden from her questing eyes. Normally, a figure such as this, especially given her experiences with the Doctor, would have caused her to brandish her knife in unspoken threat. However, she somehow knew that she had nothing to fear from the dark man. Leela moved away from the TARDIS, the Doctor was still safe inside. She would address the issue of this stranger and determine if he was a threat.

"Hello, Leela," he spoke once she reached him.

Her expression was confused as she looked long into his eyes, a shock of recognition rumbling through her. "Doctor?" That was impossible. The curly haired man was still inside the box. How could he be in two places at once?

"Got it in one. Just don't tell me that I'm around. Might upset the locals."

She cocked her head at his words, confusion evident on her face. "I do not understand you, Doctor."

"I'm complicated, me."

Leela sighed. "Why are you here?"

"To talk to you. I have a question, but I have to be quick. I'm not supposed to be here." The Time Lord's expression was furtive as he looked beyond her at the still closed doors to the TARDIS.

"Then ask."

"What's love?"

She peered at him curiously, seeking and finding the emotion in his stance. "You already know."

"No, I don't." He shook his head in denial.

"You do. It is in your eyes. You do not need to ask me this question." The Sevateem woman could not fathom why he insisted that he did not know the meaning of the word 'love' when it was obviously written on his soul.

"Leela..."

"If you do not know this, then you are a fool. The Doctor I know is not a fool." Leela placed her hands on her hips, glaring up at the tall man as she spoke.

"The Doctor you know is young," the Time Lord objected.

"He knows to be true to himself, and his emotions. Do you?"

He rocked back on his heels, stung by the truth in her words. "I don't know anymore."

"Find out, Doctor. Then you will know what love is." Leela said gently. With those words, she turned and walked away from the future aspect of the man she knew. In her heart, she knew that his questions were through. He had much to think about, and that was best done alone. However, once she reached the TARDIS doors, she could not help but turn back to where he had stood. The man was gone.

Chapter Three

The harsh Australian sunlight bleached the world around him, but the Doctor did not bother to squint as he climbed the steps to the small suburban house. Roses of almost every imaginable shade bloomed around the home, and he smiled faintly as he realised that even here thoughts of her were with him though she slumbered on in the TARDIS.

He paused on the threshhold of her door, poised to knock. The Doctor recalled the circumstances that had led to her departure and slowly dropped his hand. Suppressing a woeful sigh, the Time Lord left without knocking on Tegan Jovanka's door.

-------------

"Doctor?" Peri's voice was tinged with fear and a hint of panic as she searched for her travelling companion. One minute, his multi-coloured coat had been just before her. The next, she was alone in the labyrinth. What if he never found her again? What if she was going to be stuck here forever? What if she was going to die here?

"Doctor?!" She was starting to panic. Of course, it didn't help that the Doctor's ball of string had run out long ago. The chalk was a great idea, but he only had a stub that broke every time he tried to mark the walls. She had no way of finding him. Peri began to lengthen her stride, glancing from side to side as she passed openings. One would think that bright yellow would be impossible to hide among stark grey, but somehow the Doctor managed it. Her panic started to turn to anger. She was going to murder him for leaving her, even if he might regenerate. Maybe next time he wouldn't try to kill her, or leave her alone in a laby...She screamed as a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Peri!" a strange voice hissed, "It's me. Quiet!"

She turned to find herself facing a dark haired man wearing a leather jacket. Whoever 'me' was, she certainly didn't know him. Though, she cast an appreciative eye over him, she wouldn't mind getting to know him. "Um, who are you?" Sometimes she rather hated how her voice tended to crack when she was angry or scared.

"The Doctor. Hello!" He grinned at her, grinned at her, and acted like she was expected to automatically accept him.

She felt the pit of her stomach drop to the floor at the introduction. He didn't. He couldn't. When had he gotten a better fashion sense? "Oh no. Not again."

"Not...oh, no Peri. I'm not the seventh me. I'm a later—and better looking—version; the other me is still running around in this labyrinth looking for you. So we don't have much time."

Peri shook her head. "I don't understand, Doctor. Why are you here?"

"Just to ask you a question." His expression reminded her of a guilty child caught with his hand in the sweets jar.

"Oh-kay," she drew out the word, looking at him expectantly.

"What's love?"

Both of her eyebrows shot upwards at the words. "What's love?" she repeated, fighting the temptation to start laughing. Only the Doctor, any version of him, would scare the daylights out of her just to ask a question like that. Peri shook her head. "Love is...well...it just is. I don't know what it's like, really. One of my friends said that it's like being in a patch of sunlight on a cloudy day. The sunlight follows you around, where ever you go. Even if it's cloudy, or raining, or snowing. I love you," Backtrack, girl! Backtrack! "Er, well, I love you as a friend. The Doctor that I know, but not to say that I don't or wouldn't care about you. But that's not romantic love."

The Time Lord's brow furrowed as he considered what she said. He could not deny that it was an apt analogy, especially when he considered how he felt now. Though she was safely in the TARDIS, he missed her but knowing that she was there filled him with warmth. All of the companions he had talked to had essentially repeated what he had already known. Leela's words came back to him as he looked at Peri. "How do you know you're in love?"

"You just...do," she shrugged helplessly. "I really can't answer that."

He sighed. "Alright. Thank you, Peri." The Doctor turned and made as if he were about to walk away, but Peri's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Doctor, just tell her. Okay? She'd want to know."

"Tell her what?" He looked at her like a deer caught in headlights.

"You already know. But, before you get out of here...mind showing me the way out?" Peri asked hopefully.

"Take the next turn, follow it for about twenty metres and you'll run into me."

"How do you know?" she asked suspiciously.

"I remember." With a faint smile and a tap on his temple, the leather clad Doctor turned and walked in the opposite direction.

The American watched him leave. At least she could say that he got a better fashion sense the older he got. Her Doctor must be a fluke. Keeping that thought in mind, Peri headed down the corridor.

Chapter Four

Hyde Park was awash with the hues of fall. Burnt orange, red, gold, and muted green combined in a dizzying display of colour that was only emphasized by the bright October sun above. Charlotte Pollard strolled through the park admiring the trees, pausing to look at a vibrant tree and restraining herself against the urge to leap into the piles of windswept leaves on the path. It was a beautiful day, and not for the first time, Charley found herself wondering what the Doctor was doing at that moment. Was he running for his life? Was he composing a sonnet? Was he learning the violin with Stradivarius? Or crossing the Delaware River with Washington? Or on an alien world, watching the stars twinkle above him?

She sighed as she walked, using her vivid imagination to conjure an image of the curly haired, warm smiled man that she had once travelled with. There were many times, though she enjoyed her job at the museum, that she missed adventuring with the Doctor. Life seemed far more ordinary without him. The sound of a cleared throat behind her caused her to startle, skidding on the scattered leaves. A helpful hand grasped her elbow, keeping her steady until she regained her balance.

"Oh, thank you," she told the good Samaritan, smiling brightly at him. Her smile faltered as she looked at him. The leather jacket did not quite fit with Edwardian England, something that she suspected others would not notice. His smile was wide, carrying a hint of manic glee, and his eyes...She knew those eyes. They brimmed with kindness, compassion, and humour.

"Hi, Charley," the Time Lord greeted her, a warm grin crossing his face.

"Doctor?" she asked incredulously, before her eyes widened in recognition. "Doctor! It is you! It is you!" Charley squealed, launching herself into his arms to give him a massive hug.

He grinned, returning the gesture. "It's good to see you."

"But why do you look like that? How can you look like that?" She fingered the leather jacket.

"My people have a little trick that sort of cheats death. I'm from the future, Charley."

"Oh," she said softly. Though she knew it to be true, and that nothing lasts forever, part of her imagined that the man she knew was still out there, somewhere, having adventures. Resolutely, she pulled away to look at him quizzically, burying the pang of sorrow at the Doctor's 'death.' "You're here...so does that mean the Vegans are invading? Or...oh I know! Someone's mucking up time so you're here to fix it."

"Not quite." The Doctor offered her his arm, and she took it. Together, the two walked down the path.

After a long silence, Charley peered up at him. "So, what are you doing here if it isn't to save the world?"

"I wanted to ask you a question."

"And that is?"

He uttered words that she had never imagined she would hear from him. At least, not in this context. "What's love?"

Her steps faltered at the question, and she remained silent as she considered what to say. For him to ask...could it be? "Oh Doctor...you've done it, haven't you?" She spoke more to herself than to him, holding up her hand to forestall any comment. "Love is...when the other person means more to you than life itself. When you want to be with them forever, no matter what. When you look in your soul and realise that that other person is the best part of you. When you're willing to follow him, even into danger, because you cannot imagine life without you." Her eyes widened as she realised her mistake. She had gone from generalities to describing herself in her words. Charley's feelings for the Doctor had barely faded though she had not seen him for years. Love was like that, and she suspected that she would carry a torch for him for the rest of her life.

The Time Lord started when he heard the 'you,' knowing now how she must have felt. He could read the emotion in her eyes, and she could see that he felt guilty. "I'm sorry that I hurt you."

She shrugged. "That happens when two people live together for as long as we did. Besides, I know why you couldn't love me like I had wanted."

"Oh?"

Charley smiled, even though inside she felt as if her heart were breaking. "I wasn't the one you were waiting for. It was her."

'Dear Diary, today my life went straight to hell when the Professor decided to screw with it...again,' she played the words out in her mind as she composed her fictional diary entry. Ace regarded the glass of beer in her hands mournfully. Beer, especially good beer courtesy of Germany's finest, tended to make her melancholy and today was no exception to the rule. Just that morning, everything was perfect. She had joked with the Professor, found a problem that only they could fix, and got to blow something up. That was normal, at least for her.

Now, with her world crashing down around her she felt as if she had not a friend in the world. Then again, she supposed that that could be true since her best friend had proved just what a harsh manipulator he could be. With a heartfelt sigh she tilted the glass back and downed the amber liquid. Today was definitely not her day.

"I believe," an unfamiliar voice said from beside her, "That this is the part where I ask—what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"No," Ace corrected, signalling for another drink. "This is the part where I tell you, whoever you are, to sod off."

Her unknown companion sighed. "I know I didn't say it enough, but I'm sorry, Ace. Sorry for everything that I put you through."

She turned toward him, startled. "Who are...?" She took in the black leather jacket and stared deeply into the strangely familiar blue eyes. She knew him. But, it couldn't be. It was impossible. He was in the TARDIS, mucking about while she drowned her sorrows in a drink. "Professor?"

The Doctor smiled, though the expression did not quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Hi, Ace."

The beer did not arrive fast enough for her, and she took a careful sip as she tried to organise her thoughts. "Aren't you violating dozens of rules right now? Just being here, 'round my Professor?"

"One or two." He shrugged. "But I know that I won't meet myself, so that won't be a problem. You just can't tell me that I'm here."

She just shook her head. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you, actually. Something that I know I didn't do enough when you were with me. Or, to at least explain why I did some of the things that I did," the Doctor replied, turning to face her.

"You decided that today was the perfect day to travel in time to see me and say 'so sorry for everything I put you through?'" Ace snorted. "Unbelievable. No, wait, when it comes to you, it is. Still mucking about with my life, I see."

"It isn't like that," he protested. This conversation was turning towards paths that he had not intended. He wanted to ask about love, not to try and fix the rift that his seventh self had created between them.

"Isn't it?" Her expression was bitter as she drank more of the beer.

The Time Lord's eyes reflected genuine sorrow at the thought, his hand reaching tentatively toward her. "If I could take back some of the things that I did, I would...and gladly. I never meant to hurt you."

"Maybe not, but you did." Ace sighed, shaking off her depression. "I shouldn't take it out on you. You're not the one I'm mad at, at least not this aspect of you...not yet. I just hate being manipulated."

"I know. I wish there was something I could do..."

"You can't fix the past, Professor," she smiled grimly. "You taught me that."

"I know, but that doesn't make it hurt any less." The Doctor shook his head. "There was a lot going on that I couldn't tell you, not then. It doesn't excuse my actions, but in some ways it can explain them. I was being hunted, Ace. I just wanted to protect you, it never occurred to me that in so doing I'd drive you away." That seemed to be a characteristic of his that transcended regenerations; he only wanted to protect, but in the end the people he cared for were hurt.

The brown haired woman sighed, her expression softening. "I don't need protecting, you should've known that. But, I know how your mind works. You're never going to change your stripes. I know that I treated you badly, too."

He waved off her apology. "Given what happened, I deserved it."

Ace offered him a weak smile, finally taking in his appearance. "So, someone finally taught you how to dress. Love the leather."

"Oi! I happened to like that brolly." The Doctor grinned. "But that paisley scarf was a bit much, wasn't it?"

She barked out a laugh. "Yes, it was."

The two sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before he asked hesitantly, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Doesn't mean you'll like the answer."

"No, but I trust your opinion." The Time Lord took a deep breath before continuing, "What is love?"

For a long moment she didn't answer, instead motioning for another drink. She suspected that she'd need it after this discussion was over. Her own emotions were turbulent from discovering why her Doctor had been manipulating her and from meeting this new version of him. "Love as in...love? Man, woman, romance? Or what?"

"Yes."

Ace looked at him, flabbergasted. "Never thought I'd have to have the birds and the bees discussion with you." She wasn't certain if it was her imagination, but she thought his face had turned faintly red.

"No, not that. The emotion."

"The emotion love," she repeated. "Ask the simple questions why don't you? Love is...well, love. There're no words to describe what it's like. I know how I felt with Jan." A shadow of sorrow passed over her face. "I was overwhelmed with thoughts of him, of enjoying his company, of...lust." She hesitated over the last word. Somehow, speaking of lust around the Doctor was a bit like talking with a parent about an equally uncomfortable subject.

He looked faintly discomfited as he considered her words. Surely there was more to it than just that. Surely... "That it?"

Understanding dawned. She looked at him with an amazed expression on her face. "You've finally done it, haven't you? I didn't know you had it in you, Professor."

"Ace?" he asked, not quite certain what she meant.

"You've fallen in love. There's no other reason why you'd ask that question. What do you want from me? Absolution? Forgiveness? Permission?"

"I don't know."

She rolled her eyes at the response. Typical of him. "How 'bout a good kick in the shin? If you're in love, you'd better tell her. And no more of your games."

"It's not a game, not to me," the Doctor replied, not bothering to deny her conclusion. She, and his other companions, were right. He must be in love.

"Then stop being a git and tell her already. Knowing you, you're probably agonising over it and trying to keep her in the dark. 'Protecting' her. Don't, 'kay?" Ace's eyes narrowed as she spoke.

"But..."

"No buts. Just do it already. Got it?" She punctuated her words be poking her finger into his shoulder.

"Yeah." The Time Lord sighed, brightening a little as he continued. "Ace?"

"Hmmm?"

"I didn't say it enough...but thank you. For everything." He reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

Ace grinned. "All part of the service, Professor. Just don't expect me to start replying to any 'Dear Ace' letters. I don't do advice columns."

Chapter Five

He watched her turn in her sleep with hooded eyes. The faint light from the hallway, partially blocked by his body, cast shadows across her room. Rose's expression was angelic and he felt his hearts lurch at the sight. She was beautiful, even in sleep, even when the cares of the world were forgotten for a time in dreams. The words of his friends, his companions, played over in his mind. The Brigadier had described word for word how he had felt when he had first met her. He could feel the spin of the world beneath his feet despite being within the TARDIS. His anchor slumbered on, unaware of his thoughts.

Barbara had used Shakespeare to describe love, but he felt that even the Bard could not describe just what Rose meant to him. Leela, her eyes fierce, had told him to be true to himself and to his emotions. Peri had spoken of warmth, a warmth that followed him as long as he knew she was safe. Charley, dear Charley, had told him that he had been waiting for Rose all of his lives. And Ace, in her usual succinct way, had called him a git. His companions, the Time Lord decided, were sometimes far smarter than he could ever hope to be.

The Doctor moved across the room to her bedside. He kneeled beside her, reaching out a tentative hand to tenderly brush back a strand of golden hair. He now had a name for what he felt for her, a word that he longed to shout with every beat of his hearts. Love. He loved her. He was in love with her. He absently rested his palm against her cheek while his thumb traced gentle circles against her skin.

"Doctor?" Rose's voice was muffled against the pillow. Her eyes were clouded with sleep and confusion as she looked at him.

"Rose," he began, but words failed him as she shifted to look at him, her pyjama top sliding enough to reveal tantalizing hints of skin.

"You okay?" she asked, suddenly awake. There was something in his eyes, something that she did not recall seeing before.

"I'm great," he grinned, his thumb still tracing patterns on her cheek.

The familiar manic expression eased some of her concern, but he had never touched her in quite that way before. Her brow furrowed as she fought the urge to lean into his hand.

Seeing the confusion etched in her features, the Doctor found the words to speak. "I love you."

"Doctor?" she asked incredulously, not daring to believe him.

"Rose, if I'm wrong," he murmured the words, leaning closer. "Tell me." He gently brushed his lips against hers, lingering just long enough to allow their breath to intermingle. The kiss was tender, expressing in action all of the words that he could not say. Even Shakespeare would be hard pressed to describe just how she felt against him, and the small sigh she made as she began to respond.

The Doctor's hearts pounded as he memorized her lips, her feel, her taste, her scent, and every sound that she emitted. When they separated, it was only enough to allow them to catch their breaths, each staring deeply into the the other's eyes.

"You're not wrong," Rose told him, running her hand up and down his arm. "You're definitely not wrong. C'mere." She pulled him onto the bed, sliding over so he had enough space to lie down next to her. "I love you too, Doctor."

She had not noticed him move until his mouth closed over hers. The Time Lord kissed her endlessly, long drugging kisses that shook Rose to the core of her being. His hands snaked downwards, encircling her waist, holding her against him, his mouth moving away from her lips to trail across her cheek, over her eyes and nose, covering every inch of her face and neck in his kisses. She sighed against him, burying her face against his chest as he held her to him, kissing her forehead, whispering in Gallifreyan words that somehow made sense to her. Words of love.

He paused, staring down at her with darkened eyes. "Are you sure?"

Rose smiled, drawing him back to her lips with demanding hands. "Of course I'm sure. Don't be daft."

"Fantastic," he grinned, capturing her mouth again. Somehow during their fervent kisses, they managed to shed their clothes. Their hands and limbs tangled as each tried to show through actions just how they felt. The spin of the world faltered beneath them before exploding into sensation. This, the Doctor knew, was love.

It was later, after words had long ago failed them both, that Rose picked her head up from his torso. Her hand lay splayed across his bare chest, her thumb etching mindless drawings against his skin. "Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"Not that I'm complaining," her thumb hit a ticklish spot and his skin rippled as he fought the urge to chuckle. "But what brought this on?"

"A question," he replied in all due seriousness, his hand playing with her hair as he spoke.

"Which was?"

"What's love?" The Doctor pressed a kiss against her brow. "And you know what the answer was?"

Rose slowly shook her head, mesmerised by the rumble of his voice against her palm.

"It was you."