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Valentine’s Day was going to be a disaster, and it really was not fair. After months of walking on eggshells and one huge fight that turned into the most passionate night of their lives, the Doctor and Rose were finally, properly together.
They had been looking forward to celebrating all the romantic milestones. Their first proper Valentine’s Day was to be dinner and a night in a luxury hotel. Rose had purchased lacy, barely-there underthings in TARDIS blue. The Doctor was supplying the champagne. He’d also devoted considerable time to creating a playlist and, he’d divulged to Rose with a suggestive waggle of his brows, he’d been mentally rehearsing his moves for both kinds of dancing .
However, the universe, which had never been particularly kind, had a yet another cosmic joke to play on them.
Both of them had awakened on the day before their romantic getaway with slightly scratchy throats which escalated quickly into fevers as the morning wore on. Instead of sharing their customary lunch, they’d met up in the Torchwood infirmary, both testing positive for the flu. They’d left work miserable, shivering, and grouchy.
They were home now, with antiviral medicine and a care package left on their doorstep by Jackie. (“ Sweetheart, I love you both but there ain’t no way I’m coming anywhere near you. Good luck. Call if you get worse ,” she’d texted.)
Just as Rose was ruminating on how awful she felt and how unfair it all was, the Doctor shuffled into the lounge. He collapsed onto the opposite end of the couch with a loud groan.
“I feel like a Cyberman stomped on my head,” he rasped.
“Is that what it feels like?” Rose mused. “I think it’s more like when Jack gave us that hypervodka and Cronian gin cocktail.”
“I remember him doing that… but I didn’t get drunk from it. Superior…”
Rose rolled her eyes, then immediately regretted it when her head ached from the exertion. “...physiology, yeah.” she finished. “How’s that workin’ for you now?”
The Doctor frowned. “I don’t like this. My head hurts. All my joints ache. My ears are stuffy, and my temperature is at least four degrees higher than I’m used to. My throat itches. My face hurts, and I’m just not used to that.”
"Yeah, and you're bleedin' cranky!" His whining was grating on her already frayed nerves. “I’m not all that happy either. You’ll survive.”
The Doctor sighed so sadly that Rose’s heart went out to him. His sad puppy eyes were heartbreaking. It’s not his fault we’re sick, she thought. “I guess you’ve never really had the flu before, have you?”
“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have regenerated from spectrox toxemia before, in my fifth life. That was fairly nasty.” His body spasmed with a brief coughing fit. “Comparing the two, I’d say the flu comes in a close second.”
“So the flu feels like regeneration to you?” Rose asked, her eyebrow arched.
“Oh, no, no. That was worse, obviously. But this… it’s just that a human body feels things differently. And I react to it differently. Seems I’m more prone to complaining about it. Is that normal?”
Rose chuckled. “Yeah, it is.”
The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “Is this that thing Jackie calls man-flu?”
Rose burst out laughing and instantly regretted it as her head pounded and a coughing fit ensued. As she got her coughing under control she shook her head and wheezed, “Don’t make me laugh…”
The Doctor scooted over closer to her, and the look of surprise and concern on his face almost set her off again. “M’okay,” she told him as he patted her back weakly.
“I’m bein’ rude again. How are you feeling?” the Doctor asked, draping his arm around her shoulders.
Rose took stock of her own condition and sighed, “Bloody awful.”
“Wanna cuddle?” he asked.
“Better with two, I suppose,” Rose agreed. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I cancelled our hotel room.” They sat together silently for a bit, drawing comfort from each other.
“Look at it this way…” he pointed out with a small, optimistic smile, “we won’t ever get this particular strain of influenza again. We’re working on building our immunity.”
Rose considered what he said for a moment. “Guess you have a point there.”
“M’so sorry we won’t get our special Valentine’s Day celebration,” he murmured huskily.
She sat up to look him in the eye. “You’ve nothin’ to be sorry about. We can reschedule. It doesn’t have to be Valentine’s Day, you know. We can celebrate being together any time. Never particularly liked the holiday anyway. I found out Jimmy cheated on me on Valentine’s Day. And Mickey hardly ever remembered. I was lookin’ forward to celebratin’ with you, and sure, I’m disappointed. But I’m okay as long as I’m with you.” The Doctor nodded, but Rose saw the sadness in his eyes. “Doctor, I think you’re more disappointed than I am.”
He shrugged. “We never had a Valentine’s Day celebration before. I alway wanted to, you know. There was this planet I kept thinkin’ I could take you to. Amorentia. It’s Valentine’s Day all year long. Looks like a Hallmark card shop exploded.”
Rose giggled at the description.
“I would have loved to have given you a good memory of Valentine’s Day. But… I was a coward. There are so many things I wish I’d said and done differently back then.”
Rose felt tears stinging her eyes. She pulled him into an embrace, murmuring, “You’re sayin’ and doin’ them now , Doctor. Every single day you show me how much you love me. And I love you, so much. Doesn’t matter to me if we can’t celebrate properly today. We’ll do it another day. It’ll be our special day. We could take a trip, maybe!”
“Oooh, I like that idea. A special Doctor and Rose Day.”
“We wouldn’t have to share it with anyone else,” she pointed out. “It would be all ours.”
“Let’s give it a name,” the Doctor suggested, perking up. “Oh... oh ..oh...I have it! Perfect name for it! Plus-One Day. Because you know… you’ve always been the only plus-one I’ve ever needed.”
For the first time that whole miserable day, Rose truly smiled. “You’re a bloomin’ genius.”
The Doctor smirked. “It’s why you keep me around, yeah?”
“Well, that and ‘cos I love ya.” They settled into an embrace again, and Rose took a deep breath. Her nose cleared briefly just at that moment, and while the sensation was a relief, what she smelled made her nose wrinkle. “Erm, Doctor…” She pulled away. “I love cuddlin’ with you, but we’re both a bit…”
“Manky?”
“Yeah.” Reluctantly they separated to their respective ends of the couch. “Sick cuddling s’not quite as fun as I thought…”
“M’ startin’ to get sweaty. Ugh,” the Doctor grumbled. “And I feel like I can’t stay awake.”
His admission made Rose yawn. “Neither can I,” she huffed. They looked at each other then gazed at the staircase that lead up to their loft bedroom. Rose could clearly remember the day they picked that room, because loft bedrooms were cool. Now they just seemed exhausting and unattainable.
“Wanna take a kip in the guest bedroom?” The Doctor suggested.
“Bloomin’ genius, I tell ya,” Rose grinned.
He stood, extending his hand to her. She took it gladly, and he gently pulled her to her feet. They shuffled to the kitchen, took their medicine, and wandered to the (downstairs) guest room to take a nap.
Five hours later, they woke up, feeling slightly better. Over bowls of Jackie’s chicken soup, they talked about Plus-One Day. As they regained their energy, plans for Plus-One Day morphed into Plus-One Week in Barcelona.
And when Plus-One Week finally happened two months later, they had to agree it was one of the best ideas they’d ever had. It became an annual tradition, celebrated without fail each year, even once they were travelling the stars in their new TARDIS.