The first word that reserved a special place for Rose onboard the TARDIS and within the hearts of Whovians was... "Run!" (well, that was anticlimactic). The Ninth Doctor was a haggard, emotionally-tattered soldier who believed that he had committed genocide of his own race, and yet, an unbearable punishment still awaited him - continuing to live on despite the invisible stigmas that tore at his conscience, drowning his forced composure. These fresh wounds oozed with guilt and festered with an inescapable sense of despair. Yet it only took one simple word (no, not the one Amy Pond was referring to!) and, suddenly, the Doctor's vitality and zeal adventure was regenerated anew (pun definitely intended). Then the Tenth Doctor, a hopeless ladykiller, easily laid claim to Rose's heart, diluting their complex relationship so that it became nothing more than the superficial romances of penny dreadfuls. Alright, maybe that was a bit harsh, because Ten and Rose's charisma did have a spark, but it combusted into something laughably maudlin that eventually went down in flames. All of the strife and emotional tribulations the Ninth Doctor and Rose surmounted together were tossed aside in favour of a Romeo and Juliet stereotype, except instead of a stubborn family feud, they were separated by the stubborn laws of the universe, destroyed by the ever-contemptible mandates of physics... (not that anybody is complaining, of course!).