Worth A Thousand Words

Chapter One

'You're mucking this up on purpose, aren't you?'

Rose Tyler was doing that thing again where the corners of her lips pulled up into a grin and the tip of her tongue poked out between her teeth. It was an odd look, beguiling and the faintest bit unseemly, because most humans didn't really smile like that.

The expression was almost canine, more suited to a coyote or a wolf, but somehow it fit her face all the same. Coupled with the warm note in her voice that suggested teasing instead of accusation, it made scowling at her from across the console a bit of a chore. The Doctor's own facial muscles were already rebelliously trying to mirror the grin.

Not intending to give in so easily, though, he crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her in warning.

Apparently he needed to work on his threatening body language because if possible, Rose's distinctive grin only grew wider.

'You'd think having a time machine would mean it'd be impossible for you to be late for anything,' she went on innocently, even as her eyes gleamed.

'And if time were a linear progression of cause and effect, maybe you'd be right in thinking that,' he sniffed. 'But as I'd rather not get into a discussion of temporal physics with you right now – '

'Oh, so now we're blaming temporal physics for your bad driving?'

'Oi! It's got nothing to do with me,' he protested. 'The TARDIS doesn't like landing too close to herself. It's dangerous. Besides, I dunno what you're getting upset about, it's only a day after you left.'

The "it's better than last time" went unspoken.

'Yeah, except I told Mum I'd be back in ten seconds,' Rose pointed out. 'And hold on – if the TARDIS doesn't like landing close to itself, how'd you manage it when you came back for me the first time?'

'Simple – the TARDIS made an exception because we both knew you'd regret your first answer.'

'So what you're saying is the TARDIS wears the trousers in your relationship?'

'Eleven dimensional entities don't wear trousers.'

'Well, trousers or not, I'm glad she came back for me then.'

They beamed at each other for a moment, and the Doctor knew that like him, Rose was reflecting of the night they thwarted an Auton invasion together.

It hadn't been their first meeting – there had been a few false starts and brief encounters beforehand – but that night changed both their lives. He may have sworn off companions following the devastation of the Time War, but there was an earnestness in Rose that had given him pause.

For centuries, it had been his job to help others at his own expense and he had gotten used to them expecting it. It never bothered him before – in fact, he had revelled in it. It was the life he chose for himself after all.

But after the Time War that all changed.

Rose was the first person he had met in a long time who didn't seem to expect him to bleed for her or the universe. If anything, she seemed more concerned with helping him than the other way around.

Not that their friendship was seamless. There had been a few ups and downs in their six day acquaintance, which had nothing to do with several near-death experiences so much as their respective idiosyncrasies.

He despaired of how maddeningly short-sighted and human she could sometimes be, projecting her insecurities and domestic expectations at him even when she tried to hide it. In contrast, and in spite of her implicit offer of friendship, Rose refused to be overwhelmed by the superiority of his species as some of his previous companions had been. It didn't matter to her that he was a Time Lord and had forgotten more about the universe than she would ever learn. If she had a problem with something he did, she made her opinion known.