This was meant to have a plot I hadn't sorted out yet, but I got to the meetup and the porn, so arguably I've written the most important part of the fic. Anyway, this pairing definitely needs to exist, since to the best of my knowledge, it does not – and who are we even as a fandom without All Doctors/All Romanas?
The Doctor doesn't expect to find Romana sipping coffee, no cream, four sugars – he can smell them – at a café on the Île St. Louis, but she's there nevertheless: ash blonde now, sagged cheeks, but eyes still bright and sharp.
"It's about time," she says, taking a final sip. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting? Ten minutes at least."
"You should be dead. The Master –"
"I was a different person. Now …"
They stroll arm-in-arm to the TARDIS. Inside, he presses her against the wall; her kisses trail along his neck, her hands are busy at his waist, and her mind whispers alongside his in a way no one has since the Master. He comes pulsing into her fingers, breathless, overwhelmed, whirling as Romana's mental touch withdraws.
"Welcome back," she says.
"I could say the same about you." The tear that escapes tastes of salt and regret. "Stay," he says.
"Maybe," she replies, and for now, that's enough.