The TARDIS hummed softly around them, seemingly content with the way things were. The Doctor was a little surprised by it; he wasn’t sure why, but perhaps he had expected her to be jealous of Rose, or at least disapproving. She wasn’t though. He sighed contently, reaching down to stroke his hand through Rose’s flaxen hair. She was asleep, or at least pretending to be, curled up comfortably on his bare chest.

He had traveled the universe in this TARDIS, spent over nine hundred years exploring the whole of existence, and yet he always came back to the humans. He’d even become one, at least partially, during his eight regeneration, and that was saying something. He’d learned a lot about life during that time, but the most important thing he’d discovered was the power of love over hate, peace over war.

He’d killed before, destroyed entire civilizations, including his own, but he’d never loved. Not truly. And, why not? Love was complicated, often unnecessarily so for what it was worth, but when the alternative is death and more pain, well, it seemed like the wiser choice. He’d experienced everything before, and yet not love, and that seemed such a shame; such a waste.

Shifting, the Doctor pulled Rose closer to him, planting a kiss on her brow. He could change that, had changed it, in fact. Rose was just another stupid human, and yet, she was just the right amount of freshness and life that he so desperately needed.

She stirred at his kiss, her eyes fluttering open to look up at him. Realizing where she was, with the events of the night before returning to her, she blushed scarlet. The Doctor’s steadfast smile settled her. “My mum is gonna kill us,” she teased, stretching out.

The Doctor propped himself up on the pillows a bit. “Well, I’d suggest now as being not a good time to ring her up and give her the details.”

Rose laughed, her voice still thick from sleep. “Phone’s in the other room, anyhow.” She stretched languorously. “Mm, what time is it?”

“Any time you’d like,” the Doctor cheerfully replied.

“You’re good,” she said, sitting up a bit.

“I know,” he agreed, just as brightly.

“You need a telly in here,” she said.

“What now?”

Rose gestured to the foot of the bed, where there was space for a bureau but was empty. “A telly, you know. Always like watching a bit of news, after a good shag. Like to see what’s going on in the world while I’m getting mine.”

The Doctor had to laugh. It was such a typical Rose reply, and it was casual. There was no awkwardness, no questions, or awe. She was still just Rose. “I’ll look into having one installed then, for next time.”

That perked her up. She shifted, turning toward him, to put a hand on his chest. “Next time? There’s gonna be a next time?”

The Doctor just smiled at her, warm and welcomingly. “Do you want there to be?”

She nodded rather emphatically. “Yes. I do.”

The Doctor just broke into an even broader smile and said, “Fantastic.” His apparently glee sent Rose into a fit of giggles, and, for once it seemed to the Doctor like all was right in the universe.