Disclaimer: Doctor Who isn't mine. If it was things would be quite different. The BBC owns all and I bow before them.

Written for my friend AmeliaPonders! Happy Birthday! :)


The Doctor couldn't help the cry (but a manly cry, thank you very much!) he gave as the pillow exploded and goose feathers rained on him. He watched as Rose jumped back to escape them herself, giggling as she did so.

The pillow fights had started a year ago. His very first night in Pete's World, Rose had stripped the bed and went about making it with a set of clean linens. He had hovered in the doorway, unsure of what to do. He wanted to be next to her, of course, after so long apart, but he'd never had to do tasks like this. Not on the TARDIS. She'd taken care of stuff like that. He'd had more important things to do after all.

Rose had looked up when she felt him staring, gave him a tongue touched smile, and then she'd hit him. Not hard, and with a pillow but still! He glanced around, and finally decided retaliation was in order. Soon they were in a full fledged pillow fight, until they collapsed on the made bed in fits of laughter. It had become a weekly tradition ever since.

Now, after a year of fights, the poor pillow had burst at the seams and he was it's tragic victim. But it wasn't so bad. Rose, the love of his many lives, was nearby, wearing his shirt that was too big and a sleeve had slid down as they fought. Her hair was unbound and messy, falling in her face, but the sight still took his breath away. Being human was worth it, to experience moments like these.

"Oops," Rose exclaimed, not sounding the least bit contrite, as the last feather hit the floor.

"Well, now it's war." The Doctor smirked, picked up another pillow, and the fight continued.