Work Text:
Coda
By Perpetual Motion
They get Jack settled within the TARDIS, and then Rose begs off to go to bed. She's not tired, to be honest, but she needs a little time away from it all, from the control room and the Doctor and Jack and dancing and from the way the Doctor hasn't stopped grinning all night. Every time she looked at him, there was that grin. Wide and slightly manic, eyes bright, and he hadn't stopped dancing. First with Rose, then with Jack, and then by himself for a bit while Jack taught Rose how to waltz. And then with Rose for the last three songs before Jack said he was tired from nearly-exploding and Rose and the Doctor had helped him find a room. And then Rose had begged off, and the Doctor had insisted on seeing her to her door, holding her hand the whole way, his grin still in place.
So she's on her bed now, shirt halfway over her head, the Doctor's grin in her mind, and when she pulls her shirt clear over her head, the Doctor's in the doorway, arms crossed, mouth relaxed into the exact opposite of his previous grin. A relaxed, soft smile that said contentment and simple pleasure and that life was good. Rose doesn't bother to cover herself. She's still in her bra, and she's never been one to be self-conscious.
"Need something, Doctor?" And her grin is a slightly skewed version of his. Just as soft, but with a touch of amusement laced in at the sight of him.
"Everyone lived, Rose." He takes two steps into the room, kneels in front of her, clasps his hand to her knee. "Everyone. Even Jack."
"Even the Nanogenes," she says as she touches his hand.
"Even them."
And then he leans forward and kisses Rose as softly as her first kiss, a just barely-there touch of his lips and a slight waft of his breath, and she feels like she's been kissed more thoroughly than she's ever been kissed in her whole life. She blinks at him from a space of two inches and interlaces their fingers on her knee. He pulls her upwards, lifts their joined hands, and slides his other hand to the small of her back. They dance together in soft, miniature steps, never leaving Rose's room, never leaving the bubble they've made of the Doctor's happiness and Rose's contentment, and the feeling that, for once, everyone lived.
end