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1
A long weekend was coming up, and the Doctor decided to treat Rose to a trip to Edinburgh. For once he wanted to go away for pleasure only instead of having to plan around some official event.
Rose was delighted, even more so when he told her they‘d be taking the Caledonian Sleeper.
They travelled 1st class; still, the compartment was tiny, the berth barely long enough to accommodate him. The metronomic beat of the wheels didn‘t lull them to sleep, so they only dozed in each other‘s arms.
They woke to sunshine and breakfast delivered to their compartment.
2
Their bags safely locked away at the hotel, Rose and the Doctor went for a walk along the Royal Mile. It was a crisp, clear morning, and they had the place to themselves.
“’s beautiful.”
“If you ignore the souvenir shops,” he said. They admired the grey stone facades of the buildings, the spire of St Giles (which was made of flying buttresses), the view down closes and wynds. Seagulls cried overhead, and a busker played the bagpipes.
“Thank you,” Rose said, turning in his embrace to kiss him.
“You look sleepy,” he said.
“Tuck me in?”
He nodded, smiling.
3
They made love on the edge of waking and dreaming. It was intense because they were both exhausted, and Rose swallowed his screams.
After their nap Rose asked, “Can we go to the Elephant House?” How the Doctor had managed to take a shower in the low-ceilinged bathroom she didn’t dare imagine.
“The birthplace of Harry Potter.”
“Not in this universe, it isn’t. But they have great caramel shortbread.”
The café had a homey atmosphere with its mismatched tables and chairs.
“It is inspiring, though, isn’t it?” The Doctor sipped his tea.
“More stories for Tony?”
“That, and pillow talk.”
4
“It’s like a castle!” the Doctor enthused as they wandered the National Museum of Scotland.
“Only warm and well-lit.” Rose squeezed his hand. While she loved the gallery about the early settlements, the Doctor was more fascinated by the displays about communication, and the discovery zones for children.
“The translation’s wrong,” he commented on an example of Ogham script. “It’s not just somebody’s name.”
His eyes became bright when they found the Public Police Call Post; you couldn’t step inside, and the colour wasn’t quite right.
Rose hugged him, and, oblivious to the people milling about, kissed him deeply. “I love you.”