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It was their 200th trip together and while the Doctor didn’t want to say anything and make a big deal out of it, she was still aiming for somewhere special. She fiddled with the controls on the console, tweaking this dial and flipping that lever, as she waited for the tell-tale sound of Rose’s footsteps in the corridor to reach her ears and tell her that it was time to start their flight.
Finally, she heard the slap of Rose’s sandals against the floor and turned to greet her, smile on her face as she leaned back against the console.
“Bout time you were ready,” the Doctor teased, quickly running her eyes over companion, trying to resist the urge to linger over the way the neckline of her pink top plunged a little lower than normal and the way her dark jeans clung to her legs.
Rose giggled and returned the quick, assessing gaze, flicking her eyes up and down the Doctor before flashing the tongue-touched grin that always seemed to make the Doctor’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “Perfection takes time.”
The Doctor snorted.
“Look at you though,” Rose continued. “All dressed up with a new shirt!”
“Even brushed my hair,” the Doctor quipped.
“Impressive,” Rose drawled, reaching out to tug on one of the brown locks that was normally pulled back in a practical ponytail. “So, where we going today? All you’ve told me is that trainers weren’t necessary.”
“Ever heard of a surprise, Rose Tyler?”
“Could have done, don’t remember,” she said, hopping up on the jumpseat.
“Cheeky.”
“You love it.”
The Doctor just smiled and turned back to the console, not having a good response to that other than a yes that was far too serious for their conversation.
She could feel Rose’s questioning gaze burning between her shoulder blades so with all the flair she could muster, the Doctor pulled the materialization lever and twirled back to Rose. “You ready?”
“Always.”
Her bright smile pulled a matching one from the Doctor and, as soon as the TARDIS came to a halt, jolting them both, the Doctor grabbed Rose’s hand and tugged her towards the doors.
The Doctor threw the doors open, ignoring the chiding she got from her ship for being so cavalier about it, and gestured with her free hand to the vast hall in front of them.
“Welcome to the Grand Gallery of Belartoj,” she announced. “Belartoj is a planet completely devoted to the arts and this gallery is it’s crown jewel. It has works of art from all over this galaxy and two neighboring ones and spanning thousands and thousands of years.”
She looked over at Rose and saw her looking wide eyed at all the framed pieces hanging on the walls, waiting to be discovered and knew she had picked the right destination today.
(Rose didn’t talk about art much but the Doctor had stumbled across her sketchbooks in the library numerous times, had seen her hard at work a handful of time, bottom lip caught in her teeth as she carefully smudged a line or shaded something. She seen Rose stop and admire art on many trips but she never asked to stop at a museum or gallery even as she gave them longing looks.)
(The Doctor didn’t know why she shoved her passion down but she was determined to let Rose know that if she was interested in it, so was the Doctor.)
“There’s no one else here,” Rose said finally, voice whisper quiet.
“It’s a few hours after close. I thought it’d be nice to have the place to ourselves.”
When Rose looked up at the Doctor, her smile was blinding. “Thank you. This is brilliant.”
Rose squeezed her hand and the Doctor felt her hearts trip over themselves. It was a sensation she’d grown familiar with since meeting Rose.
She pondered it as they started wandering through the halls of the gallery, hands still entwined. The Doctor’s thumb traced patterns against Rose’s skin as she told stories about some of the artwork and the artists who’d created them.
Half of her mind was on her relationship with her companion though. The Doctor had given up pretending she hadn’t fallen in love with the blonde months back but there was still the question of what to do about it. Rose was her best friend. She was brilliant and beautiful and had just bloomed in this mad life of theirs.
The Doctor didn’t want to lose her.
But she also really, really wanted to kiss her and had no idea if that would be welcomed.
Rose had had a boyfriend when they met and there was no concrete evidence that she was interested in entertaining a relationship with someone of the female persuasion.
(Except the Doctor swore that Rose flirted with her, swore that she found Rose flirting with other women at parties and market stalls sometimes.)
(She knew for a fact that other women flirted with Rose.)
She was still thinking when Rose came to a stop in front of a piece from the 34th century. It was a bright mass of colors and circles, a pristine, prime example of the Boratyia style that had emerged in the piece’s quadrant of origin.
“Like this one?” The Doctor asked, watching as Rose shifted her weight from foot to foot, tilting her head to consider the framed holo-canvas.
“Yeah,” she answered slowly, not taking her eyes off the artwork. “Don’t know what it is but I really like it.”
The Doctor couldn’t take her eyes off of Rose, decided to throw caution to the winds. She could always play it off as a joke if things went pear-shaped. “Well it does match you a bit,” she said, “all pink and yellow in places. Plus you’re both masterpieces.”
Rose turned her head to face the Doctor, cheeks heating a bit. “Doctor?”
The Doctor’s smile went a little wicked around the edges and she tugged Rose slightly closer. “And now you’re even matching the reds.”
“You called me a masterpiece!”
“Meant it,” the Doctor said softly, squeezing Rose’s hand.
Rose bit down on her bottom lip, eyes flitting down to the Doctor’s mouth before flying back up to meet her gaze.
The Doctor’s heart soared and she shuffled a few inches closer. “Can I?” she asked, nerves and hope stealing her breath away as she untangled their hands and raised her hand to Rose’s cheek.
Rose nodded, smile breaking over her face. “Yes.”
The Doctor slide her hand into Rose’s hair and gently leaned in to press her lips to hers for the first of what she hoped was enough kisses to outnumber the stars.