Doctor Who Someone to Watch Over You

Don't have much to say about this one, kinda came out of nowhere! Hope you enjoy :) As always, all mistakes are mine. (and apologies for the cheesy title, it was the only thing that would come to mind)

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John Smith had no idea who she was. All he knew was that she showed up every time things were especially rough and shortly after she appeared, things would slowly start improving.

The first time he saw the blonde stranger was at the age of sixteen. He'd just been shipped off to his aunt and uncle's after losing his parents in a house fire. No one knew what to say to him, knew how to get him to rejoin the world in some way. John had been staring out his window, refusing to think of it as _his_ window because that would mean accepting that his home was gone, when he caught sight of a blonde woman in jeans and a pink hoodie looking straight at him from down on the street. Her brown eyes locked with his blue ones and John almost jolted from the shock. She grinned at him and then turned and walked away.

A few days later, John finally met someone in this new town who didn't try to tiptoe around the elephant in the room and just offered him the friendship he desperately needed.

Four years later, John was immersed in his studies to become a doctor. This semester was rougher than any of the ones previous and he was withdrawing in on himself. As the work piled up the thoughts of _not good enough_ and _why do you even bother, no one cares if you succeed_, and _you don't deserve to succeed_ grew louder and louder in his head.

John pulled his new leather jacket closer to his body, trying to use it as armor against his own thoughts. He was heading across campus to the library to pull yet another all-nighter in an attempt to prove those little voices wrong when he saw her again.

This time she was wearing a red jacket and black trousers and was just as gorgeous as she'd been four years ago. She smiled at him again, eyes warm, and then turned to walk away. John tried to call out, wanted to run after her and find out who she was but he was so shocked that he couldn't move.

A week after this second sighting, a professor pulled him aside to compliment him on the work he'd done that semester and offered to help introduce him to some people who worked in the fields he was interested in so he'd have connections later on.

After that, he saw her more often. She was there after a bad breakup. She was there after the first time he lost a patient in surgery. She was there _every_ time he lost a patient in any context. She was there after a really long week and again when his uncle passed away.

She'd been on the edges of his life for twenty years and he had no idea who she was. It killed John that he didn't even know her name when it was the sight of her and the smile she always had for him that kept him going so many times.

It was a beautiful day in late April when that changed.

John was walking home from the pub where he'd been celebrating a recent promotion with a couple of friends, his now-battered leather jacket on as a ward against the slightly chilly night air. He was crossing the street when a flash of blonde hair in the nearby park caught his eye. He turned to look, expecting to find yet another blonde stranger instead of _his_ blonde stranger. He'd been searching for years and years and never had he ever seen her at any time except when she chose to appear to him.

His breath caught when he realized that the woman on the park bench was his stranger. She had her elbows on her knees and her face buried in her hands but he knew it was her. He'd recognize her anywhere at this point.

John spared a thought to worry about if something bad was going to happen since he usually only saw her when things were not going well but the thought was a fleeting one. She was here and maybe, just maybe, he would have a chance to talk to her this time.

Quietly, he approached her, trying to figure out what he was going to say to her.

He didn't have to figure it out because the moment he reached her, she looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and broke the silence that had stretched between them for twenty years. "Hello, John. It's lovely to finally meet you."

Her smile was fragile and trembling, a far cry from the normal grin she had for him. Maybe this time it was his turn to help her.

"Likewise," he said, still unable to quite believe that he was really talking to her. "Are you okay?"

"'S just been a long day. Thought that maybe seeing you smile after your promotion might make it better," she looked down and shrugged. "I didn't mean to actually talk to you, I'm pretty sure it's against the rules."

"Rules can sod off, I've wanted to talk to you for years." John sat down on the bench next to her. "Besides you've been there every time something's gone wrong for me, so why don't you let me be here for you now?"

"That's not how it's supposed to work. I'm not supposed to need help." She sounded like she was about to start crying.

"Everyone needs help sometimes," he soothes, tapping into the bedside manner.

People never expected him to be gentle, not with his penchant for wearing his leather jacket inside the hospital and the forbidding expression he often had on his face, but his patients knew him to be kind and the students who worked under him knew him to be patient as long as they were trying their best.

John reached over to where her hands were clenched around each other in her lap and laid his calloused hand on top. "Can we start with your name? You have me at a bit of a disadvantage."

The blonde next to him, whipped her head up to find John directing a wry smile at her. He squeezed her hands, still trying to calm her.

"Rose. My name's Rose."

"That's a pretty name," he commented. "Rose." He savored the single syllable, rolling it over his tongue. It fit her, he decided. All the names he'd tried to assign to her over the years had never seemed right but this one was perfect.

"What brought you here tonight, Rose?" There were so many questions John wanted to ask but he needed to make sure she was alright before he could satisfy his curiosity.

She tensed. "I probably shouldn't tell you."

He could tell she was close to giving in, could sense that she wanted to talk about whatever was troubling her so he squeezed her hands again. "Remember what I said about rules, Rose?"

A broken exhalation escaped her with violent force. John was unsure if it was supposed to be a laugh or a sob and he suspected that it was a bit of both.

"They can sod off," she repeated. "It's not like they could punish me any more than they already have. It's just…I've played by the rules for so long that it's hard to throw them away now."

She looked up at him, brown eyes searching for something in his blue ones. He had no idea what she was looking for but he dropped any shields he might have had up and let her see his sincerity and fascination and adoration.

"Okay, I'll tell you but can we go somewhere else? It's getting a bit cold out." Her words were punctuated by a shiver and John realized that the white dress she was wearing was not doing anything to ward off the slight chill.

He shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders after they stood up. She murmured a thank you but John couldn't say anything in reply. The sight of her wrapped in his jacket was hitting him harder than he had anticipated. He'd always found her to be gorgeous but before this moment she was also extremely unattainable. Now that she was here and he knew her name and was about to find out her story, he could feel the attraction that had been banked for years and years flare to life inside of him.

"John?"

Right, he'd probably been staring at her silently for much longer than what could be considered normal.

"C'mon, my flat's right around the corner. We can talk there."

She reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers, letting him lead her to his flat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After he got her settled on his couch with a mug of tea warming her hands, John watched her carefully from his armchair. He figured she would start talking when she was ready, but for now he was going to use this opportunity to memorize her. There was every chance that she would go back to watching his life unfold from a distance after tonight and he never wanted to forget the way she chewed at the sides of her fingernails or nervously tucked strands of hair behind her ear.

He watched her take a sip of her tea and then lower the mug back to her lap. Without meeting his eyes, she started to talk. "I essentially lost my job today. And not even just that, I lost my job and my home and everything I know in one blow. They took away everything that I am and I just don't know what to do now." She glanced up and he could see the tears that were coursing down her face now. "It's my fault, I was never good enough. I never thought they'd just chuck me out though."

John couldn't stay across the room. In a flash he was beside her on the couch and pulled her into his side. "Sounds like it was more than just a long day," he said softly, trying not to let her sense the anger that was boiling in his veins. How dare these people just throw her out on the streets and tell her that she was worthless. If he knew who they were he'd be sorely tempted to go and teach them a lesson about how to treat a lady.

"Just a bit more," she choked out.

"Who are they, Rose? Why would they just throw you out like that?"

She stiffened and pulled back from him. "I didn't like some of the decisions that were being made and I spoke out against some powerful people. Forgot my place and they made me pay for it." She was back to staring at her remaining tea as if it held the secrets of the universe.

"That's the why, although it's still a rubbish reason to punish someone. You should always be allowed to speak your mind." He was reassured by the slight smile she sent him.

"Can we move onto the who? Who are they, Rose? Who are you?" The questions just spilled out as he talked with uncharacteristic speed. They'd been building in John's mind since he realized that she was a steady presence in his life and he was helpless to stop himself from asking them.

He saw the fear and uncertainty in her eyes as tension filled every line of her body. "Don't tell me you can't tell me because of the _rules_. They have no control over you now."

"It's not that. I just…I don't know how you'll react." She paused and ran her eyes over his face, apparently memorizing him like he'd done to her earlier. "You look at me like I'm a miracle and a puzzle and I don't want you to think I'm crazy."

He started to talk but Rose cut him off. "And you will think I'm crazy, I know you will. You're a very logical man, John, and there's no reason for you to believe me. You don't even know me!"

"Rose, I've known you my whole life practically. Just because I haven't had a chance to talk to you before tonight doesn't negate that. And I'm ready to believe just about anything at this point. You've been at the edges of my life for twenty years and you haven't aged a day since the day I saw you outside my window when I was sixteen. You're always there when things are bad like you just know somehow. By all accounts, none of this makes sense so I'm willing to believe any explanation you have." John took a deep breath. He was talking more in one evening with his blonde stranger than he normally did in the course of a few days. He was notoriously succinct when at the hospital but with her he had twenty years worth of conversation stored up.

She shook her head, tears threatening again.

"Telling you, believe anything, me." John reached for her hand once more. Everything just felt more secure with that connection tying them together.

"'M an angel, John. Specifically your guardian angel. Or rather, I _was_ your guardian angel before today. That's why I was always there when things were bad, how I knew when you needed me. That's why I still look the same age."

John knew he was staring, mouth gaping like a fish, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Rose moved to disentangle their hands. "I knew telling you would be a bad idea. There's a reason they have rules against interacting with your wards. They already thought I was too involved in your life anyways, thought I was too interested in human life." She looked at him, insecurities evident just beneath the surface of her demeanor and John gripped her hands tighter, not letting her pull away. "You were my first ward and I couldn't even finish guarding you."

"You're an angel."

"Yeah."

"An actual angel."

"That's what I said."

"Do you have wings or is that a myth?" The question was out of his mouth before he realized it might be insensitive, scientific curiosity taking precedence over common sense.

Rose's face closed off, pain written on her features. "I do, but they damaged them when they banished me." She shut her eyes against the gathering tears, "Can't use them anymore."

"Can I see or is that something mortals aren't allowed?"

"If it'll help you believe me, I can show you."

"Please?"

Rose screwed up her face, obviously concentrating hard. Within seconds there were feathered wings spread out behind her. They were a pale gold, interspersed with feathers that were the same color as her namesake.

They were gorgeous. She was gorgeous.

His heart ached when he noticed that her wings were twisted, unusable like she said. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain that had to have accompanied that injury and the anger he'd tamped down earlier roared through him again.

"That's…that's fantastic," he managed, letting her hear his wonder.

Rose looked at him warily, not quite sure she believed him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." John shook his head incredulously, "I didn't know angels existed, never even considered it a possibility."

She reached out with her free hand and brushed the back of her fingers over his face, wings still fluttering behind her. "That's because you're a man of science, not one of faith. I knew you never really believed but I was determined to keep you safe anyways."

"I believe in you, Rose. Always have."

Her smile lit up all the crevices of his heart and he pulled her forward to wrap his arms around her, careful not to jostle her wings. He'd have to ask if they still hurt and see if his qualifications as a human doctor would be any use to her.

For right now though, they were both content to just be with one another, to be in the safety of the other's embrace. Questions of the future, of their future, could wait for tomorrow.


End file.

Doctor Who, Friendship, Romance