AN: Hey there! Strangely enough, I'm posting a story in the "Until the end of time"-verse (you know, my first multichapter story...).
Yup, I decided to write some snippets for life after my story! This is just the first, expect others in the near future ;)
You might want to read my other story, because even though this could quite work as a standalone thing, it makes more sense. Only if you want though!
Oh, obviously tell me what you think! I really appreciate opinions :)

I use this as a chance to celebrate the return of the lovely Houses and Humans, my faithful beta-reader. We missed you!


Even though now they shared a bed (and a room, and a bathroom, although luckily it wasn't the only one and they had separate wardrobes,) the Doctor kept his routine of sleeping only a couple days a week. He had been sleeping in three or four days a week instead of one or two, but it wasn't strange for Rose to wake up to an empty bed at least once every couple of weeks. She usually got up at around nine (probably some kind of habit she got from Torchwood) and called him to eat breakfast with her, so what was keeping her in bed for so long today? It was almost lunch time and they hadn't had a particularly tiring day yesterday and she seemed fine when he left the bed after she had fallen asleep (and he'd observed her for a while, yeah...).
He put the sonic screwdriver in his pocket and started toward their room. He stopped a second in front of the door, stroking the engraving the TARDIS had made for them lightly: it was one of a wolf under a stormy sky, with their names written in Gallifreyan under the engraving on a blue door with roses all over the edges. He was still really bewildered at the TARDIS' fantastic gracefulness.

Breaking out of his reverie, he slowly opened the door, trying not to make any noise. He entered the room and took in the sight of Rose curled up in a tight ball, her back to him and her hair falling to the side of the bed. He walked closer and saw that his companion (wait, that sounded wrong... he'd have to find something new to call her) was hugging his pillow to her chest, using it like a teddy bear. Quietly he sat down next to her, leaning over her and stroking some strands of hair out of her face. Immediately Rose's eyes opened and she looked up at him, forcing herself to keep her face clear of any sign of distress. "Hey..." she croaked out.

"Hey," he answered softly, stroking her cheek slowly. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Nothing," she said with the most innocent face she could manage.

"Then why are you still in bed? It's past eleven..."

"Just tired, I guess..." but at the stern look he gave her she relented. "I'm not feeling too well," she sighed, "nothing to worry about, though," she rushed out. The Doctor frowned.

"What do you feel? Headache? Stomachache? Feverish?" he asked, feeling her forehead with the back of his hand.

"Doctor, I promise you it's not some virus or anything. I already know what I have and it's completely normal, it'll pass soon," she tried in her best convincing voice, which obviously wasn't convincing enough.

"Rose, I'm just worried about you... Can't you tell me what's up? Maybe there's something I can do..." he asked, a little hurt for this display of lack of trust.

Rose sighed, looking pensive for a moment, then blushed and opened her mouth to speak. "It's just... it's that time of the month," she spluttered out, embarrassed, looking flushed over her pained face. The Doctor scrunched up his face in confusion: what did that mean? Was there something he didn't know? What could she possibly be referring to? At the look of his face, Rose giggled. He was the most clever man in the universe, but he really was clueless sometimes. Usually for the most obvious things. Sighing again, she added: "Doctor, my period..." praying that he'd understand. He surprisingly looked still confused, but then everything fell into place in his mind and his eyes brightened at the realization.

"Oh... I'm sorry," he said, luckily not looking terrified as Rose imagined he would be. Mickey had been horrified the first time she had had bad cramps because of her period and he'd disappeared until she was better. Good old Mickey. "But how come I never noticed before? I mean, I should have if it was this bad every time..."

Oh, he was quite bright sometimes, then. "It wasn't this bad before... before we were separated. I went to a doctor in the parallel world and she told me the stress could cause premenstrual period cramps. She ordered me some painkillers but they do nothing. So I just have to bear this and wait until it passes," she explained, leaving out the first time she had her period in the parallel world and spent two days throwing up. He definitely didn't need to know about that.

"But if this is caused by stress, it shouldn't be this bad now, right?" he asked. To Rose he sounded like a child questioning everything he saw.

«He's just worried for you», the TARDIS hummed in her mind. Rose thought about that and could really see that he just loved her and wanted her to feel better.

"It's not really bad now, it was worse in the other world..." she finally whispered. The Doctor was speechless, feeling himself how much pain she was in at the moment and imagining how hard it should have been. So he did the only thing that came to his mind: he laid down next to her and hugged her from behind, nuzzling his nose in her hair and leaving a light kiss on her neck. Rose sighed contentedly through her pain and closed her eyes, now completely surrounded by the Doctor.

After a while, the Doctor whispered in Rose's ear, "What do you say I go and make you some tea?" Rose just nodded and let out a disappointed noise when the Doctor's warmth left her with a kiss on her hair. She woke up to the sound of something clattering. She blinked a couple of times: she must have fallen asleep because now there was a TV in front of her, a hot water bottle on her bedside table and a guilty looking Doctor with a mug in his hand. "Sorry...didn't mean to wake you," he whispered.

"'S okay," she mumbled back. "Can you give me my tea? It seems inviting now," she asked.

"Of course!" he beamed, handing her the cuppa. While she took the first sip, he rattled on. "I also brought a TV, if you want to watch something or... I don't know. And a hot water bottle! I know from somewhere that it should help the pain. Oh, and also... this!" he said, producing a big teddy bear from his pocket. It was the one they had saw on some carnival before the separation: he was light brown (the same color of the Doctor's trenchcoat), his eyes were hazel, he was really soft and he was a bit larger than normal teddy bears; he was also holding a rose, although she remembered it being red and now it was yellow and pink. Rose looked up at the alien, moved and surprised. "I bought it that day at the fair. You seemed to like it and I was planning on giving it to you for some special occasion... guess now it's the right time," he explained sheepishly.

Rose took the teddy bear with trembling hands, holding it to her chest: now it had an additional bonus, it smelled like him. It really was perfect. She drank the rest of her tea and handed back the mug to the Doctor, feeling the warmth of the beverage seeping through her and all the way down to her stomach, leaving a pleasant feeling. She settled back on the pillow, feeling slightly better, and hugged her stuffed bear contentedly.

"Do you want to watch some TV? Or can I pass you the hot water bottle? Or..." the Doctor let out hurriedly.

"Doctor," she interrupted him. He looked at her questioningly. "I'm okay, just come 'ere," she said, patting the space on his side of the bed. The Doctor complied obediently, chucking his trainers at the feet of the bed and laying down next to his partner (ugh, this one didn't sound right either.) She immediately snuggled into him, pillowing her head on his chest and entwining a hand with one of his. He passed one arm under her neck and stroked her hair slowly, tenderly. They both sighed at the perfect peace they felt and relaxed.

"Feel better?" He asked, leaning down to kiss her hair softly.

"Yeah," was the last thing that came out of her mouth as a whisper before she succumbed once again to sleep, lulled by her Doctor's samba and feeling safe in his smell.

"Goodnight, my precious angel," he whispered, happy for having finally found the right name for the love of his life, for his forever.