Doctor Who One Shot - Ten/Romana - "Sometimes It's Nice..." [Adult.]

[justjyve]

"Sometimes It's Nice..."
By - Jyvette

Verse(s): Doctor Who and Dollhouse.

Obligatory Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, I've just borrowed them for my own and the readers convenience. =]

Author's Note(s): Okay, I like Doctor Who. I love Romana. I love Dollhouse. I wrote this. Comment? And, very adult. VERY adult. Enjoy!

Summary: It's strange, isn't it?" ... "I'm used to strange. Strange is my business--wait. No. What are you on about?" ... "At the Louvre. Albeit, in a different time... Though 2009 is hardly a vintage year, once again..."

"It's strange, isn't it?" the blonde haired woman with the panama hat said, turning her head towards the male figure beside her.

"We-ll..." the tall man in brown pinstripe suit said, placing his hands within the pockets of his trench coat, looking at the painting that both were situated in front of. "I'm used to strange. Strange is my business--wait. No. What are you on about?"

"Being here is what I mean, Doctor... At the Louvre. Albeit, in a different time... Though 2009 is hardly a vintage year, once again..."

"Ahhh," he said, now catching up with the mindset. "Returning to the scene of the crime? Though..." He released a sigh, "Could it really be a crime since we... You know... Saved Earth from being wiped out of existence?" He raised an eyebrow at her, curious to her response.

She had pursed her lips to one side in thought, debating the right and wrong of the situation. "I suppose for the greater good... But regardless of what we prevented, this copy of the Mona Lisa still has 'This is a fake' underneath the paint..." She smiled slightly when he simply hummed a response, bringing her blue eyes to the painting again. "She still doesn't have any eyebrows."

A small trace of a smile graced his lips, "No, she doesn't."

"If it were created on computers back on Gallifrey, she would have eyebrows, certainly..."

That made him smile. A small echo of past conversations lightly tickling his ears, making him look at the woman beside him with a sense of longing for the past. "Once again," he said in a soft voice, his hand lifting from one of his pocket and resting it oh so gingerly upon her shoulder as if any harsh touch would cause her form to shatter like the most delicate of glass. "You're not seeing the beauty of true art."

Once again, her head only tilted lightly toward the Doctor's direction, her eyes looking to connect with his. Unfortunately his eyes were to the painting still, though she made no obvious note of it aside from a small and delicate grimace upon her face. "Pray tell... What makes this true art that you keep insisting?"

"Can't you see it?" he asked, the other hand laying upon her shoulder, standing behind her, though never once looking at her.

"Obviously not," she scoffed, ignoring any physical reaction she might have gained from the simple light grip upon her shoulders. "This is your key to show off with your supposed vast intelligence upon anything relating to this favorite planet of yours."

"...I don't show off," he said, pouting slightly. "...do I show off?"

"Constantly. Now don't change the subject... What can't I see that makes this painting true art?"

He was silent for a moment, his grip upon her shoulders tightening ever so slowly. "The love and labour put into it. That's what you're missing, Romana." He paused for a moment, as the name slipped out of his tongue like silk, closing his eyes as he leaned his head enough to take in her scent. Lilies. She smelled of lilies, and always did. "Unlike with computers... It's not mechanical. You don't create art with a push of a button. These artists, like Da Vinci here..." His hand slowly descended down her arm, "With every stroke, they elicited beautiful imagery to share with the world." As if to illustrate his point, his finger stroked the top of her hand. Soft, of course, almost like silk, making him want a better feel. "Every movement they made towards their art... Absolute...ecstasy with the result. Don't you think?"

It took her a moment to think of something to reply with, having been otherwise buzzing by response of his simple touch. "...I suppose," she stated, her tone slightly uneven, closing her eyes as she felt one hand situated at her hip and the feel of his body pressed against her.

"Also," the Doctor continued, though slightly distracted as the hand that sat upon the woman's hip slowly slid to her stomach, rising higher, "Computer drawings... They rarely show you the passion. The desire, the need to showcase the imagery of one's heart." Upon the last word uttered, his hand had cupped at her breast, smirking in silent victory at the sound of a very stifled moan escaped her. None of the human ears had picked it up, unless straining to do so, but luckily for the Time Lord, he heard it clearly, and it delighted him.

She thought him a cruel tease, something new with this tenth incarnation of his. A bit of a kink as well, to have bestow these gifts of touch within the Louvre, buzzing with tourists and other fans of art around them. It took all of her restraint to not fill the air with her sounds of appeasement that the Doctor tried to wrestle out of her. Though it was very hard not to, him being so adept with his hands. As her breathing grew heavy, she supposed such gifts came from the experience gained in his old age. She licked her lips, feeling the other hand scratching against the fabric of her leg, dragging the skirt slightly up. The action only caused her hips to quiver slightly, her core eager for his touch. However, her eyes opened and her hand grasped at his before it would reach his desired destination.

No words were said between the two, the Doctor moving both hands to her hips, his hot breath billowing against the nape of her neck. Which again, caused her mind to become clouded and caused her to release a mixture between a moan and a small laugh. 'Focus, Romanadvoratrelundar,' she thought to herself, yelling at herself within her mindspace. After she thought herself calm, not subjected to his light assaults upon her body, she opened her eyes, lifting her head in an attempt to catch sight of his eyes, she spoke in a whisper. "I'd like you to show me... This passion, desire and... Was it... Strokes that results in true art?"

He felt his arousal hardening, pressing his lower half against her, closing his eyes for a moment. "Long, deep...strokes, yes..." He purposely let hot air cascade over her skin, and he delighted in the feel of her shivering. "I could show you. Then maybe you'll understand."

"That... That sounds good, but I rather it be a private lesson if you don't mind. Unless you rather we properly get banned from the Louvre..."

It was only then did the two found the beauty of compromise.

His assault upon her form was no longer light, comforted by the darkness of the wing of the museum. She could barely remember a sign of some sort, notifying it was closed for renovation which only mattered as it provided a means for the Doctor and herself to, more or less, act like hormone filled adolescents.

...Not that she minded.

The panama hat was thrown to the ground as she looked up at him, her skin flushed and her breathing causing her chest to rise and fall, the school uniform she wore so constricted she wanted nothing more than to rip them from her form. From the look in his dark eyes, of what she could make out, the same thought had crossed the Doctor's mind. However, he gently cupped his hands around her face, seeming so delicate. As if he were staring at a china doll rather than an actual person. She licked her lips in anticipation, his face mere inches away, his lips so close to hers and yet not touching. This only supporting the observation of his tenth incarnation being a cruel tease.

He seemed hesitant, really, his eyes drinking in the definitive lines of her face, the defined cheekbones and the ever so desirable lips. His hearts quickened in their pace, causing him to swallow hard, his breathing becoming almost erratic. Eyes reluctantly leaving the lips he wanted to devour, going to her own eyes, rich in their colour, never quite wanting to turn away. "You are beautiful..." She released a small, impatient moan that he ignored, shaking his head. "...and very fitting in a school uniform... Bit tight in some areas..."

Her lips parted to speak, "It's the breasts... They're a bit... Larger...than previous...incarnations."

The Doctor paused, one hand sliding down her neck towards her chest, watching absolutely mesmerised as her chest rose and fell with her increased breathing. His tongue licked across his bottom lip as he took a hold of a breast, squeezing it gently, eliciting a small moan from the other. "You're right," he said, his voice husky, a groan escaping his lips as his tight pants became even tighter, due to the sight of her biting her lip right then. "Bit more of a handful... Not that I mind..." His attention upon her soft mounds continued, groping them through the fabric of the cotton white shirt, causing her to lift her leg, her knee rubbing against his erection through those damn pants of his. He emitted a soft growl, his forehead touching against hers, closing his eyes for a moment as she continued to caress him roughly. "...Hardly...fair..."

She held a triumphant grin across her face, her lips ghosting over his slightly, "You tease me... I tease you... Until we both can't take it any longer and give into each other completely... That's how we work, Doctor. That's how we always work." Her hands tugged at the lapels of his suit, eyes burning into his, "Now shut up and kiss me before I go mad..." A satisfied sigh escaped her as his lips collided with hers, fitting against each other like the most perfect puzzle, his body pressing against her, her back against the wall so firmly. He hardly noticed when she pushed the trench coat off his form and damned it to the floor.

Strawberries, the Doctor thought. She tasted of strawberries on her tongue. She smelled of lilies, tasted of strawberries, and as his hand picked up her skirt, sliding across the skin of her thigh, she felt like silk against his hand, calloused from his wanderings of Time and Space. Still, he delighted in the feel, feeling the heartbeats against her chest quickening the higher his hand travelled, the heat almost burning his hand. He felt her shiver against him, even more so as his hand went to the back of her upper leg, nails scratching down until he met with the back of her knee, lifting her leg to wrap around his waist. Her bottom lip was nestled between his teeth, biting it, nibbling as well as suckling upon it. Her tongue danced across his teeth for a moment, oddly a bit ticklish he found it to be.

The hand that held her leg around him slid up her thigh, sliding hard against her stomach, to the center of her chest, between her breasts, and took a strong grip of the back of her head, tilting to the side so that his mouth could descend upon her neck. She let out a small cry when he made a rather harsher bite than intended, quickly lifting his head, "Shh, shh... Can't make too much noise... Got to be quiet..."

"Maybe you shouldn't bite so hard, then," she said, giving him a slight pout.

He smiled, his nose touching against hers. "You like it, though... Don't you? The biting..." She was silent, but it made him smile all the more, as even though the area was dark, he knew she was blushing. His lips nipped against her chin softly. "I won't do it too hard... I promise..." Though he wasn't all that sure, himself. Sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

She licked her lips and, as she began to feel his kisses, she could only tilt her head to allow him access to her neck, delighting in the feel of his lips and tongue against her skin. Her hearts fluttered as he now delivered gentle bites from her neck to her chest, fingers expertly undoing each button that laid an obstacle for him. "...I do love the school uniform," he said, causing her to open her eyes to look at him, though his lips were still mere inches from her chest, his tongue touching the area right above what the white satin bra covered. Another bite there, she let out a sigh. A suckle, she let out an inaudible moan. "But you know..." he started once again, and she could feel a hand of his reaching into the back, and the sound of a zipper being pulled down, slowly, as if teasing her. The sound itself made her want to moan again. However, the Doctor continued in saying, "What I love more... Is seeing the school uniform being taken off."

Alright, that made her want to moan.

Slowly, the top half of the jumper was pulled down, stopping around her waist, her arms slinking the straps away from her. While his eyes burned into hers, she laid her head back, watching as he gingerly lifted the rest of the cotton white shirt from the rest of the jumper that still adorned the lower half of her body. One by one, his fingers worked their way up, undoing each button, revealing more and more of her skin until the shirt slid down from her form to the floor. The Doctor felt his lower half twitch in anticipation, wanting to drive into her, desperate for release. But he was never one to easily give in to his desires, always going for the long route at times.

Her lips pressed against his, taking him somewhat by surprised but in no way did he pull away but rather delighted in it, reaching behind to unclasp her bra. He noted her hands scratching through the fabric of his clothes, an action that caused him to shiver with excitement. He pondered if this was a new trait of hers, or whether he truly missed out all that time they had first travelled together. He was certainly tempted... He shrugged the suit jacket off, feeling it unbuttoned. How did she manage that? He took no notice of her fingers doing such a thing, though the feel of her nails scratching the bare skin of his stomach was well noted, shuddering at the feeling.

A breathless sigh escaped her, lips parted in the kiss as his hand roughly took a hold of a bare breast, squeezing it tightly within his grasp. That mixture of pleasure and pain, arousing her completely. A fact the Doctor found as the other hand found its way up her leg, rising higher and higher until his fingers grazed against the fabric covering her core. He smirked against her lips, more than happy that his actions to her form provided arousal, as the evidence upon his fingers shown, even through the covered fabric. Still, his fingers rubbed against the bundle of nerves, her breathing notably becoming shallow, wrapping her arms around him tightly while she arched into his hand, soft moans reverberating against his lips.

She gasped suddenly, as the Doctor forcefully turned her around to face the wall, resting her head against the cool surface. She bit her lower lip as she felt his wandering hands caressing her breasts, shivering softly as the skirt rose above her bum and the feel of his fingers dancing slightly over the exposed skin of area. He had leaned closer against her, hand slinking to her front, pushing the pesky undergarment aside. She gasped softly as his finger slide gently inside her entrance, finding herself moving her hips against his hand, wanting a deeper feel. She received a slap across her bottom, a clear indication that she should stay still and let the Doctor handle the fondling of her person. She groaned, frustrated, but... She waited patiently, staying still, swallowing hard as he placed his thumb upon her clit, moving painstakingly slow, mirroring the action as he gently thrust his finger into her entrance.

A quiet whimper pushed through her lips, her hands upon the wall, sliding up and down. "You're... You're horribly cruel..." She attempted to rock her hips against his hand again, but only received another slap across her bum, prompting her to released a mix between a moan and frustrated sigh. "Stop teasing me!" she said in a hushed whisper, pausing as she compressed what could have been a shriek. "I don't have to beg for you to fuck me, do you? Doctor, please..." Her lips parted, a soundless cry only slightly heard as he took the opportunity to curl a finger, enough to make her cry right then and there.

"....bend over," said the Doctor's voice, his fingers sliding out of her and suckling within his mouth. In one swift movement, he had brought down the rest of that damn uniform that still clung to her form, revealing all of her that was to behold, all that he was just itching to touch and explore. She was trembling, though slightly, trembling nonetheless. The knowledge of that brought a pain because of the now unbearable fabric that constricted him. As he watched her bend over, her hands laying flat against the wall, he undid his trousers, letting them fall around his ankles as his hand stroked himself, a small groan escaping his lips. Quiet, he had said. They would have had to be quiet during this... But when he had finally pulled down and revealed her core to be bare, he wasn't sure if that were quite possible.

Slowly, he eased himself inside her, and how she burned around him. A quavering sigh escaped him as he buried himself fully inside, watching with slight pride as he saw her fingers curling, clutching onto the small etchings of the wall. He gripped along her waist, leaning forward for his lips to idly kiss the skin of her back. He began to thrust himself in and out of her core, slowly, at times almost painfully slow. He heard the smallest of cries smuggle their way out of her lips, while he seemed to survive by the heaviest of breathing.

His eyes closed, for the moment enjoying the feel of her walls squeezing around him, at times wondering if it were due to a bodily reaction, or her manipulation of a bodily reaction. Either way, he enjoyed it, the pleasure in it slowly overwhelming him. His pace started to quicken, his teeth clenching together as he breathed deeply. How was it that she wrapped around him in such a perfect way? So tightly... So moist with every thrust he delivered onto her.

The one hand that rested upon her hip sliding up, taking a hold of her breast, squeezing it as the other hand traveled to the front of her cunt, finger tracing over the clit so lightly that he felt her shudder once again. How he throbbed because of that.

Quiet... She had to be quiet. That was what she kept screaming inside her mind, her head tilted down. Her eyes closed tightly, and the one sound that was loudest to her ears were the sound of her sharp and shallow breaths, trying so hard not to make the groans or cries she would have enjoyed making. There were so many things she wanted to utter. His title, for one, wanting to scream it over and over as he sent wave after wave of pleasure to course through her. His pace quickened, the steady nature seeming to be thrown out the window as each thrust was quicker than the last, the sound of skin against skin just that bit more present.

She mentally cursed at him for making his movements more concentrated, more likely to cause her to explode, to cry. Yet she loved every single moment. Needless to say the contradiction was rather annoying to her at the moment. The lightest hint of a cry finally emerged from her lips when he had especially drove himself deeper into her. The reaction was to cover her mouth with a hand immediately, trying to smother the sounds of ecstasy that were screaming at her, begging her to make their existence known.

This did not deter the Doctor, however. If anything, it encouraged him, his mind now reduced to a lust filled fog. His fingers flickering over her clit, giving hard, concentrated thrusts, he opens his eyes, dark to the point of being black, he saw a sight so beautiful he shuddered.

Being so close to the edge, she had been reduced to bite upon flesh of her wrists, the side of her head laid against the wall, her eyes shut tight as her breath exhaled sharply from clenched teeth around the bit of skin, something that resembled a growl lightly sneaking past her lips, as well as through her nostrils. He throbbed inside of her, and if he were not such a stubborn as he was, it was most likely he would have reached his end right then and there.

But as the Doctor was many things, most definitely, the majority being very stubborn.

His eyes, so darken with lust looked upon her face as he was reduced to pounding into her core like an animal gone into heat. His bottom lip protruded slightly from the upper lip, a reaction surely he was not aware of, nor cared. But what he did care, was that even in the darkened room, he could see the bite marks forming upon the delicate wrist of his... Of his companion.

Was that a soft groan he emitted?

Her hand escaped the grasp of her teeth, fingers touching against the velvet feel of her neck, her lips gasping, quivering slightly. He knew that she wouldn’t last long, the need for her their coupling to be heard too great for her at this point. In truth, it was becoming quite difficult for him as well...

In a swift movement he had pulled out of her, turning her to face him and pressing her back hard against the wall. His lips clamped onto hers, a shaky breath, harsh against her, yet so deep with its longing. His hands clasped around her face gently, tenderly and she gently wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging onto him as if her life depended on it. Their lips felt raw against each other, as if being bitten harshly for a long period of time. The taste of her tongue within his mouth made his loins stir once again for her, both feeling as if they were sharing one breath between them.

It was almost to his disappointment when he spoke against her lips, having that light contact that at the moment seemed to taunt him. “...I want to make you come,” he said simply, though his tone uneven, raspy with that nice hint of desperation.

She had paused for a moment, opening her eyes to look at him before she swallowed in a vain attempt to moist what had become a dry throat. When the primal urges that were screaming at her quieted down, she smiled, her hands sliding down his chest, nails dragging down slightly. “That’s...” she started, her voice soft, cracking slightly. She bit her lip lightly, her hands taking a hold of his waist, “I’d be very... Very...furious if you didn’t...”

“Not just once. Many times. Many more times... Until I just can’t.” He licked his bottom lip, looking into her. “Until we just can’t...”

She smiled, a closed smile that showed she was very amused at this point. “What’s stopping you?”

His eyes strayed to her lips, lifting a hand, his finger tracing the outline of her bottom lip gently. “...if I make you come... You’re likely to blow your top. So would I... We have to be quiet...”

Understanding had claimed her eyes, only to be replaced with a twinkle of mischief. “Oh...” she had said, tilting her head down, his finger swallowed up by her lips as she suckled upon it slowly, leaving it with a soft kiss. Something that caused the stirring with him to practically vibrate with want. “Then... You’ll have to shut me up. Won’t you, Doctor?”

He didn’t need another word, he couldn’t as his lips claimed hers, her body lifted slightly and pressed hard against the wall as her leg was wrapped around him. A groan was muffled between them as he drove into her, his hands gripping at her waist to steady her against him. He didn’t start slow, he didn’t work towards it as he did before. He no longer had the patience for it, as no doubt, no longer did she.

Smothered groans, muddled words, muffled screams were shared by both as he pounded into her, lips refusing to part for even a single spare breath. He did not pause while thrusting into her, not for one minute, not for one spare second. It was almost to the point where he didn’t want to exist in a moment of time were stopping the movements that brought the both of them that ultimate feeling of pleasure was an option. Both of his hands pinned hers above her head, one sliding down her side, taking a hold of her breast, massaging it with his hand.

He could feel it coming, of course, as did she. Slowly, that white-heat slowly overcoming the both of them, swallowing them both whole. But that... That only encouraged the Doctor to go faster, and faster, the muffled screams they would make mirroring each other, at the same time. Every second, every tick of a clock, together... Together. Faster and faster, to a speed that not even the Doctor recognized at the moment.

“Ungh...!” yelled a female voice.

Everything within the TARDIS was still, the only noise from the Time Capsule being the hum of the machine herself... And the screams of the two forcing their bodies to interlock in a most intimate fashion, nothing gentle about it. Nothing refined like those of their race held so dear to their hearts. Their mouths, open, releasing scream after scream down the other’s throat, their lips touching and yet not...

Her fingers grasped through his hair, almost to the point of ripping the strands from their very roots. She hardly cared, as she was sure he hardly did. His fingers just held onto dear life of the bed sheets they laid upon, as if he would be lost forever if he didn’t. Though, if he were given the chance to be lost within her folds, he wasn’t quite sure he would mind.

They laid naked upon the bed, a single sheet of white cotton giving the illusion of covering the two of them. Her eyes were closed tightly, her mouth agape as every strangled scream left her so primally she wouldn’t recognise such a sound if she were in the steady headspace to recall a scream ever pushed passed her lips. How he was pounding into her so fiercely, and how easily her slick walls let him bury himself inside her, to the deepest reaches.

He felt his body shake when he distinctly felt her walls squeezing around his length just that bit more, sending him almost completely over the edge. The Doctor couldn’t help but smile at that, quite amused by the few delightful twists and turns she unleashed upon him from time to time. Her hands had left the now ridiculous mess of his hair, sliding down the middle of his back as far as she could reach, her fingernails scratching lightly against his skin. The action only prompting his fingers to let go of the bed sheets, and instead his hands cupped around her face, lips caressing hers as his pace quickened, that primal need calling for it.

Her head tilted up, her chest rising with every deep breath and descending with every desperate cry she released due to his brutal and concentrated pounding into her. His eyes were opened to the sight, and he was quite sure it served as encouragement to send her as far over the edge as he could. There was no need to wait long, however, as the sensation that coursed through his veins, or so it seemed to him, caused him to shut his eyes closed as well, hands gripping upon her waist as every thrust brought a groan to fly through his lips.

There were only a few more thrusts until he felt himself empty into her, only slightly catching the finishing scream she uttered. After reaching his end, he found himself slowly adding a few more, his pace quickly slowing to a halt as he felt his body lay on top of her, feeling his limbs temporarily becoming rubber. Both of their bodies were slick with sweat, his lips coming in contact with the skin upon her neck, nibbling upon her gently, tasting the flavour of the salty skin, savouring it, committing it to memory. As his lips met hers, he savoured that as well.

Her fingers came to caress his cheek, feeling his tongue against hers. It was when she felt him start to pull out of her, that she broke the kiss, shaking her head. “No, don’t...” Her eyes looked into his with a rather pleased smile, “...I don’t want you outside of me just yet...”

His nose touched lightly against hers as he laughed. A soft, fragile laugh, highly amused by her words, and slightly aroused. “You said that... At least four times now...”

She chuckled softly, her lips touching his in a soft caress. “...that’s because four times before, I felt you stiffen inside me...”

“Entirely your fault, Romana...”

“I can’t help it... Is it wrong that I love the feel of you buried inside me so much?” She paused for a moment, as his body had stilled and his eyes bored away into hers and... “Oh...” she started, lifting her hips towards his, stifling a slight moan, “You’re hard again...”

He swallowed, “Mm... How can I not be when you say things like that?” His body was weak, and he desperately needed some rest... But there was something inside him that begged at him to thrust inside her, groaning as he did so. He nibbled upon her bottom lip, his movements slow, delighting in the moans she emitted, clearly still sensitive but not caring one bit, as he didn’t care. He would be like this, with her, all night if he had to, not wanting to take any break in between until there wasn’t an ounce of energy between the two to go on. Only then would they stop and rest, and he truly wouldn’t want it any other way.

It was when both breaths quickened, both hearts skipping beats, pounding so fiercely against the other’s chest that the words slipped out, among the moans and groans and feverish nonsense. Three words that seemed so foreign to the Doctor, that he hardly could believe he had actually uttered them. When he had climaxed, his seed and essence spilling out and filling her to the very brim, his eyes closed as his forehead laid against hers, they came out.

“I love you.”

There was silence that followed, the sound of the gentle hum of the TARDIS, and heavy breathing from the Time Lords were the only thing present, before he felt her fingers caress his sides which caused him to shiver, and finally, her words came, her smile ever present. Something he knew was there, even if his eyes remained closed.

“...I love you, too.”

The Doctor stood in front of the console, alone for the moment, staring at the mass controls as if doing so would give him a sort clue on how differently he should feel. The TARDIS, the comforting hum it gave... It would calm him, it would whisper into his ears of the thousands of places he could travel to, the different time periods he could visit to bring about the manic grin on his face. Usually... But not this time. All he could do was let his eyes drink in of the all too familiar sight in front of him, and just waited.

“So,” said the female who had graced him upon his bed the few times he would sleep. “Where should we go, then?”

And that was what he waited for.

He took in a deep breath, and the neutral face he had adorned the duration he was in his staring contest with his most favoured ship, was gone and replaced with a smile. A smile very few knew was forced. In other circumstances, he was sure she would know, she could tell. But... She would believe in the smile, for in her mind, there was no reason for her to doubt it. “Well...” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets while leaning back against the console, “You choose. Anywhere in the world, the whole universe in front of you. Every time, any time. Your choice.”

This was the time when he felt every muscle tightened within this incarnation’s slim body, his hearts beating just that bit quicker. Wanting a change, needing a change. Sometimes the Doctor was referred to as a little boy having fun. But at this moment, he wanted nothing more than that. He wanted to play. He wanted to pretended. He craved for the make believe.

Her eyes looked at the controls, those that were familiar to her as well. When she had first stepped into the Time Capsule, all those years ago, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. It was a rather old model, after all... But like anything Romanadvoratrelundar was handled, she sought out the book or manual that would help her understand the machine, and found herself quite confident. No... Maybe even more than just quite confident.

The move of her fingers gave the machine the coordinates that came immediately to her mind, without needing a second thought. The TARDIS reacted warmly, she thought. She smiled, quite satisfied and she looked to the Doctor, and for some reason seemed to have failed to see the pain in his eyes. But he smiled... Surely she had nothing to worry about, then?

“... Earth? We’ve just been...” he said, suddenly feeling how foreign those words felt coming out of his mouth. Didn’t he love Earth?

“Yes.. I thought you’d approve, seeing how much you love Earth, after all.”

“...Right. Right, I do...” He did, and though he did, he felt himself frantic to change his mind. “What about Faahl 3? Lovely waterfalls, the locals are nice. Unlike Faahl 2 where it’s dry as a desert and the locals try to eat you--”

“...It is in America... I thought you’d like a foreign continent than Great Britain,” she said, her head tilted and looking upon him as if he were a stranger. “And not San Francisco. So you don’t have to worry about stepping out of the TARDIS doors and being shot into a new regeneration.”

His jaw tightened, though the forced smile was there. “Right... That doesn’t happen yet.”

“...He’ll knock four times?”

His eyes sharply turned to her, arching a brow. “...How did you...?”

She smiled sheepishly, laying a gentle hand upon his arm, rubbing up and down, slightly. “...I heard you in your sleep. The dreaming...”

“Or nightmares, more like...”

She was concerned, though she tried her best not to be, and most importantly, tried not to show it. “You’re the Doctor,” she said softly, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. “How many other times has the Doctor faced death and always come out with a smile?”

The Doctor felt himself lean against the warm hand, a small smile forming slowly over her words, or rather, because of her words. He turned his head, lips kissing her palm gently. “I’ll try very hard to believe that with the greatest of confidence. Thank you.” He took a hold of her hands, holding them as his eyes looked into hers. “You were always best, you know.”

“That’s a lie,” she said with a smile.

“Let’s pretend it’s not.” His lips went to caress hers lightly, his forehead leaning against her forehead, his nose barely touching her own.

A grand and pleased smile graced her face, tilting her head up to kiss upon his jaw lightly. She licked her lips, opening her mouth to speak before a small, happy laugh escaped her. “We should probably go to the destination set, you know. Another adventure.”

By that time, his arms wrapped around her, embracing her while closing his eyes. “What if we didn’t? What if I kept you in here, with me, and never step out? We could do that. Easily.”

Romana’s face was one of confusion, backing away from his embrace enough to look up at him. Her eyes looked over his face, trying to read what was going through his mind. Though that was a goal very few could achieve, and she had only come close to doing so, and yet not quite. Shaking her head with a smile, she asked, “What are you afraid of?”

“....being alone.”

Her smile widened just a bit more, the back of her hand caressing his cheek, “And pray tell... Why do you think you’ll be alone?”

“...I always am.”

Her caress ceased in their motion for a moment, “Not anymore. Can’t you see that?” she ended with a rather desperate laugh. As if to make him see how silly he was being, but there was no smile on his face.

His eyes looked down, lifting his hand to take a hold of hers, pulling it away from his face. There was a slight pout to her face, he saw, and she looked upon him with such pleading eyes... It was cute, he thought. He closed his eyes to banish the image, bringing her hand to kiss upon gently, his lips lingering momentarily. “I see everything. I know everything. I can never be a creature of ignorance... That’s the problem.” He opened his eyes to look at her, “Do you know how much I want to just...” He shook his head, “The one moment I want to be in the dark.... To just not know...”

Romana’s head tilted, eyes searching for a small semblance of understanding, but ultimately coming up empty. “I don’t understand... Honestly. Where else am I to go? We’re the last of our kind... The last children of Gallifrey... This TARDIS, you... This is home. You’re home...” She smiled, cupping his face once again. “I don’t know what you think is waiting for us out those doors... Or what you believe will happen to somehow tear away what we have... But it won’t be of my own doing.” Her lips touched against his, caressing his. “...You told me you love me. And I, you... Do you think you’re going to get rid of me now? Because if so... You’re sorely mistaken. I’m here to stay... I’m going to stay with you. Is that not enough?”

The words were comforting to him, and he wanted to believe in them. He wanted to cling upon them, declare them as true. But he knew... He just knew. He gave her a gentle smile, his hand rising up to caress and cup her cheek. His thumb grazed her bottom lip, his nose touching her own softly before closing his eyes. “It wasn’t... It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you know. It was simple... I didn’t see it happening, and I see everything. Well... Most things, anyway. But you... I never saw it coming.”

He opened his eyes to look into her own, “You know what it was? That unexpected thing that I didn’t see coming?” He didn’t let her answer, however, as he moved his hand to the back of her head, fingers clutching upon the back of her head as his lips came upon hers, greedy and hungry. When he parted from her, she licked her lips.

“...that,” she said simply.

“Yeah... That. I didn’t see that coming. I don’t know if I wanted it, but...” He released a sigh, shaking his head as if to wipe something away. A thought, most like.

A fantasy.

“Romana... Are you ready for your treatment?”

“Did I fall asleep?” The Doctor heard outside the doors, within the underground establishment. He never could bring himself to witness the mind wipe, coming close only once, the first time. He had watched, as the girl, the active or...doll as they called them, sat upon the chair, and every memory of the time he spent with her, calling her Romana, believing she truly was her... Everything was just wiped away. There was pain, he knew from the small cries of pain. It was almost as if he were witnessing Romanadvoratrelundar die right in front of his eyes.

After that, he simply stood outside the door during her ‘treatment.’

The doors opened, and the young woman who he had spent the past twenty four hours with walked out, pajama-clad, and as her eyes, looking in such a peaceful state, looking the same, and yet so entirely different. When her eyes took in the sight of him, she tilted her head slightly, a serene smile in place. “Hello.”

“Hello. How are you?” he said with a soft smile, a polar opposite of what he felt at the moment.

“I’m doing very well. I had my treatment, I enjoyed it.”

Other times, he would smile and say that was a good thing and say his goodbyes... Other times he would walk away. But the Doctor at that moment decided this was just not that time. “Did you? Did you really?”

She blinked, “I don’t understand.”

“Did you really enjoy it?”

She turned away, as if to ponder the question carefully. “...Yes,” she said, smiling once again. “Yes, I always enjoy my treatments.”

“No,” the Doctor pushed forward, “I don’t mean... What I meant was...” He looked at the blank state of the woman, hoping for some semblance of recognition, just one... His jaw clenched, deciding to pull back, realising just what he was doing. He exhaled slowly through his nostrils, a clenched fist thrust into his pocket. He was looking for her. For Romana, hoping she was there, even though he knew full well that this woman was not her. All he had was an imprint, an imprint that was wiped from the woman’s mind. Talk about chasing after a ghost...

A forced smile was given, and his back straightened, looking into the child-like blue orbs. “So. What is it about the treatments that you enjoy... Davora, isn’t it?” He knew full well that was her handle in this place.

But she still smiled, as if happy to answer. “They help me be my best.”

“And that’s important.”

“Yes,” she said, a soft laugh escaping her, “I always try to be my best.”

“Right...” he said with a touch of defeat in his voice, turning his body slightly away. “You all do. I should--”

“Are you your best?” she asked suddenly. “It’s important.”

He arched a brow, but nevertheless let out an amused smile. “Right... Yeah, I’m sure you all think it’s important to be your best and all, but--”

“No,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “You. You have to be your best.”

Again, he arched his brow, but the amused smile did not come. “What do you--”

“You’ll need to be your best. For the times ahead.” Her eyes looked down, a sad look upon her face as she added, “Or else...”

“Or else?” he repeated, his face gone pale, her words striking fear in him. He took a step forward, “What do you know? How do you know? Tell me!” He exhaled softly, looking into her eyes, desperate for an answer. “What do you know?” He shook his head, “No... I keep forgetting... I can’t forget, I can’t... You... You’re a blank slate. Here for...whatever reason, I don’t know. They probably put you up to this. Desperate way for me to keep quiet about this place... Because that’s all you are to them, you’re not a person, a human being to them... You’re just a tool for their own... You’re just a doll. An active. Some sort of fantasy waiting to be experienced by anyone wanting to get their greedy hands on you and I’m no--”

“Shh,” she cooed softly, raising a hand to cup his cheek. She tilted her head, eyes staring into his. “You have sad eyes. They’re saddest when you come, but less sad when you leave.” She smiled, “I like it when your eyes aren’t so sad...”

At that, the Doctor smiled softly, the fear that gripped at him loosened their hold, and all he could see and hear... was her. “You look like her...” He closed his eyes, chastising himself. “Well--no. No, you don’t,” he quickly corrected himself, opening his eyes. “Well, you do... But you don’t...” He sighed, “What I’m getting at is...” He paused for a moment, the words jumbled before he sorted them out in a manner that wouldn’t make him sound like a rambling idiot. “What I mean is... You don’t look like her. You don’t look like her at all, but... That first time... The first time I came here, and you walked in... When I saw you, I... I couldn’t help but think of her.” Romana.

“Is that good?”

“....I don’t know. Do you think it’s good?”

Davora then let her hand down, her head turning to look around, drinking in her surroundings. When her eyes met with the Doctor’s once more, her lips pursed slightly, and she shook her head, “This is a bad place.”

“...Yes, it is,” he said, slightly curious and slightly taken aback.

“Bad things will happen here... Beyond their control...”

“...Yes, it will. I wanted to stop it head on, but... If I didn’t, it wouldn’t stop their destruction. Just delayed it. But how do you--”

“Just... Be your best...” She then smiled, as if the past conversation never took place. “I think I shall go swimming, now.”

“...what?” He paused, and after a look around, it seemed he quickly remembered where he was, “Oh! Right... Right... If you wish and all that....” He paused for a moment, and spoke again as she was just out of his sight. “Davora,” he said, turning around to face her as she did the same to him. “I, uh... I won’t...be coming back again. So... This is goodbye.”

She paused for a moment, a sad expression crossing her features as if she was drinking that in. But then, she smiled, tilting her head back slightly. “If that means you won’t be sad anymore... Then I’m happy.”

The Doctor smiled at that, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He took a deep breath, “Well... Sometimes....” He exhaled softly, “Sometimes it’s nice... To pretend.” He watched as she descended down the stairs, and he watched still, as she walked past the throngs of others like her, blank slates--dolls. His hands, rough by sifting through sands of time, gripped along the railing, his eyes looking upon the grand potential of all the minions of this place wasted. The spark in humans that he loved to see whenever he came upon this planet, gone.

. . . And he allowed it.

It was an appalling truth, but not one he could turn away from or deny. He was ready to close this place down, every single one. Then she came in and... Everything changed. He grimaced slightly, walking away from his position, hands in his pockets and headed toward the destination of his one loyal ship, the TARDIS. There was no need to think of this place ever again, he assured himself. He needed to blow steam, perhaps a trip through the randomizer would do the trick.

Or Mars...

He could go to Mars... A random year, probably some time in the future...

What’s the worst that could happen on Mars?

“Wait... What?” said the self declared male genius, incredulously to his slightly-slightly older, and oh so very british female boss. “You mean... No more once a year visits from Mister ‘You-All-Are-Morally-Wrong-And-Made-Of-Fail-But-I’m-Mister-Hypocrite-Of-Awesome-With-My-Awesome-Trench-Coat’?” He paused for a moment, as if to comprehend what he had just been told. “Awwwww!” he said, sounding like a disappointed child, with a touch of sarcasm. “I’m going to miss his constant put downs and frowny face. I mean... Boyd is usually the disapproving one around here, but the Doctor really perfected the act of constant disapproval.”

With a roll of her eyes, Adelle DeWitt let out a sigh, “Well I’m sorry to give you such bad news, but that’s what he told me. He’s relinquished her and gave her back to our care. I’m quite sure our clients will be thrilled upon her return...”

“Yeah...” Topher Brink let out, already distracted by the computer screen. But as his attention went back to topic at hand, he turned sharply to his employer, “Whoa. Wait-wait-wait!” He closed his eyes in concentration, his face distorting to rather intense thinking. “No, no... But... Hold on... Doesn’t that mean...?” His eyes opened once again, and he pointed to the door, “Wasn’t the whole... Give him access to an Active, client, handler and all that jazz so that... You know... He’ll leave us alone? Now that he’s not doing that anymore... Should we be... Worried?”

“No,” she said strongly, “And believe me, that was the first question I asked...”

“And...? What? He’s just... Letting it go? That doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense.”

Adelle gave an exasperated sigh, “Topher, I think it would do a world of good, for all of us, to simply not try to find the logic behind the Doctor’s actions. It would also be best if we just forget that he was here.”

He laughed, “Umm... Sure. Forget about some Alien Robin Hood swooping down and...” He trailed off, making a slightly awkward turn, picking up a certain hard drive wedge, for a moment staring at the label, the name scribbled with his own handwriting. After a moment, he turned to look at Adelle, and asked, “You think.... That we should have told him?”

“No,” she said, her answer immediate. “It wasn’t what she wanted.”

“Yeah, I know, but...”

She could see the moral dilemma, though it was slightly worrying that it was Topher Brink himself to point it out. “Our aim here, Topher, is to give the client what they want. He wanted to remember. She wanted to forget. We did just that. There’s simply no reason to think more of this.” That was what she would tell herself, and she knew that was something that he would have to tell himself now. “Now, if you will excuse me... I trust that we’re done here?”

“...Yeah. It’s crystal over here.”

“Good,” she said, though not entirely convinced. But it hardly mattered as she walked past him, heels clicking against the hard floor. As she closed the door behind her, she had caught sight of the man in question, the Doctor, hanging around, still. It was strange, though she had very much wanted to reach her office and pretend that his visits within the Dollhouse were non-existent... She found herself descending down the stairs slowly, drawing ever closer toward the Time Lord.

Time Lord. It was like something out of a science fiction show that perhaps Adelle had seen when she was but a young child back in Great Britain.

“You’re still here,” she said as she came upon him, no accusation in her obvious statement, but rather... An observation.

When he had turned to look at her, like the many times he had looked at her before, there was a tired look to his eyes. Almost as if he were annoyed to see her, or disgusted. Something to which she paid no mind, and was quite used to with her position. “...Just on my way.”

“For good,” she added for him.

“....Yes.” He very quickly added, in a rather annoyed way, “Sorry--do you want me to run off into the sunset at top speed?”

She let out a small, and yet entirely forced smile, one she would often dish out when a client had proved to be rather... Unsavory. “You mistake my intent, Doctor. I’m merely curious at this rather abrupt withdrawal of our services. Did she disappoint you in any way?”

“No,” he answered sharply, at this point facing away from the other. “And before you ask--again... I meant what I said. I’m not going to do anything against you lot.”

“But you see, that’s what I don’t understand. And I often don’t trust what I don’t understand...” She paused for a moment, crossing her arms, “Four years ago, you came here with the intent to close us down for our morally wrong practices...”

“Oh, a recap, great fun,” he said sarcastically.

Without skipping a beat, not paying mind to his interjections, she continued, “And then she walked in. Davora, and... You were quite captivated. Everything changed at that point and... You became our client.”

His body stiffened slightly, clearing his throat a bit. “Your point?”

“As I said, I’m merely curious... What was it about her that captivated you? The need to imprint her with this... Romana, was it?”

Gone was the annoyed expression, and instead his facial expression softened at the sound of her name. “I really don’t see the point in rehashing this. It’s over, done with.”

“And you remember, that day, your terms were to not interfere with the organization, with the private engagements with Davora. Exclusively, might I add... And you were her handler as well as her client.” She paused for a moment, before adding, “And I agreed to it, knowing what you were capable of doing. Torchwood One was enough evidence of that.”

“Hitting a personal note with you, since that was once your place of work,” he said, looking to her. “See? I can add to your sentences, too. Must have been hard. Once being in charge of this great, underground organization... We-ell.... I say great, but...” He paused for a moment, a smug grin suddenly on his face. “It’s the same here, except without all the prestige of Torchwood... Yvonne must have done a number on you. Knocking you down and taking your position as head of Torchwood One... Until you had no choice but to run off to America. Then of course, you ended up here.”

“Yes... The majority of our services pleasing our clients. You know that plenty.”

“I know. I’m a hypocrite. It’s true... But it doesn’t mean I have to like you, or agree to your.... Place of business.”

“Hm,” she said softly, “So it isn’t...that she disappointed you in some way... Is it possible she exceeded your expectations?” Her brows raised, competitive in manner, “Perhaps... She was too good in your fantasy... Reminded you too much of your friend. Is that it?”

“You know, I’d love to stay and chat more, Adelle, but I actually wouldn’t want to continue any of the sort, so! I’ll just be on my way and forget this conversation ever happened.”

“You hate this place so much, Doctor... And you were well on your way to dismantle it all, to its very core... But now that you relinquished your one piece of bribery... You say you won’t make one move against us. Now I find that interesting. I find that utterly fascinating. Why?”

He took a deep breath, his hands in his pockets as he looked at her, steadily on. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve realised... Quite late that... It doesn’t matter. Four years ago... Yes, I wanted all this to end... But in my way. The way that I thought would soften the fall.” He nodded to their surroundings, “But now I know... This place will crumble and fall. With or without my help. I just liked my way, better. But as I said.... It doesn’t matter. It’s really not my place to interfere... I know that, now.”

“You think we’re going to fail?”

“No. I know you will.”

“And you won’t help us, I suppose.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Quite the hero.”

He scoffed at that, “Hero. I’ve been called that many times... And every time, it’s wrong. I’m not a hero, I don’t go around looking for people to save. They find me. I see something broken, and I try to fix it. Sometimes I can, and there are times I can’t. I’ve seen so many things... I’ve ended so many things... But there are things I can’t. Some circumstances that all I can do is watch, and just feel shame. This right here is one of those circumstances.”

Her body stiffened, eyes burning at his form, “Then at least tell me how. How will it come to it?”

“You.”

She rolled her eyes dismissively, “Honestly, I find this we are our own demise to be very--”

“No. You’re the reason. You bring the demise. Everything, you.” He leaned forward, face mere inches from hers, eyes burning, “And that is all I’m going to say about it.”

She swallowed softly, her face made of stone as she watched him march off, trench coat trailing behind him. Her exterior showed no visible evidence of the affect his last words had upon her, but internally, she had the very strong desire for a taste of vodka, possibly the contents of a bottle. Though as she raised a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, she had noticed it shook ever slightly.

In her line of vision, she saw her, Davora done with her objective of swimming, hair wet and a pure white towel wrapped around her form. She, too, watched as the Doctor almost glided away from their lives. But it was upon looking at her, that Adelle only knew that to be true for some, but not all of them.

“So this is the infamous Dollhouse, is it? Fancy...” a blonde haired woman asked, her blue eyes surveying her surroundings. “I suppose... Yes, I dare say the name suits it. It’s quite nice when that happens...”

“Honoured to meet a fan, then,” Adelle had asked.

“A fan I am not... Whether it looks ‘pretty’ or not doesn’t negate the fact that this whole establishment is... Horrible? Evil? Immoral? Just plain wrong--I’m not quite sure which word to choose to describe it... What of you?”

Adelle had smiled, raising a glass of brandy, “I’m quite fond of immoral, myself. Brings about such images of angry priests in my mind.”

“So,” she started, crossing her arms in front of her, her boot-clad feet walking towards the open door, overlooking it all. “The Rossom Coporation... They call this philanthropy at its best? Nice spin on things.”

“We take those that have no where to go and supply them a place to call home. I don’t see how that’s wrong.”

“You mean you round up desperate souls and use their vulnerability to... Sell... Their souls? How charitable...”

“They are compensated after their contract ends. Well compensated, might I add.”

“Because money makes it okay to get vulnerable men and women and wipe their memories, make them into shells--no, empty dolls. That is until you imprint them with fabricated memories, make them believe they have the skills and the personalities that your disgustingly wealthy clients desire, lust for... Whatever their greedy hearts desire... Leaving them with no memory of who they were, the person they are... For... How long?”

“Five years.”

“Yes... For five years they simply... Forget. Forget every single thing and for those five years, simply either be nothing... Or someone else entirely.”

After a long sip of her glass, she nodded, “That is the general idea...” Looking to her, she added, “Are you going to try and stop us?”

The woman stepped away from the door, and as she reached Adelle, she plucked the glass from the other’s hand and finished the remainder of the brandy one gulp. After licking her lips, she shook her head. “No,” she said, placing the empty glass down. “...I’m going to volunteer.”

Adelle drew in a deep breath, tearing herself away from the sight and climbed up the stairs, that bottle of vodka never sounded more appealing than right at that moment.

Topher Brink still had the hard drive wedge in his hands, and had been staring at it for quite a while. It had seemed that the awkwardness of the situation was leaving, disappearing in that blue box, but... Somehow it felt like the beginning of something different, but just as awkward as before. He picked up a disc that he often kept hidden away in one of his storage compartments, not having seen it since the first time it was used. Four years ago.

“Mister... Brink, is it?” she had asked.

“Um... Yeah? For like, the tenth time today...”

“I realise,” she said, ignoring most of his last comment, “That this could be rather difficult. No doubt your machines are a bit...below par with those of my biology.”

“Right, the two hearts thing... It’s weird, with a little dash of intriguing. Well--no, actually, your brain’s the problem. It’s...nothing we saw before. Well,” he said with a little laugh, “I mean... We’re used to dealing with... You know. Humans...”

“I’ve realised that, which is why I want you to use this before the wipe,” she said, handing him a disc. “It’s a program I’ve devised... My kind would use a device called the Chameleon Arch. With it, my kind could change their chemical biology to whatever other species they wanted. Such as human. Normally my original biology would be stored in, say, a pocket watch, but...” She released a sigh, “This is rather the crudest form of that... Those hard drive wedges shall suffice...”

“Ha! So we’re turning Miss Pinocchio into a real live....girl-woman person?”

“....More like into a hairless ape...” After a moment, she added, “No offense.”

“So sincere.” He inserted the disc, watching the monitor closely as the program booted up, and an almost delightful glee overcame him. “This is amazing. I mean, give me the brain and I’m a maestro. I mean... I’m pretty good.”

“Your ego seems to think you’re more than great.”

“...well, if you insist--”

“I wasn’t. But in your oh so modest ramble, you were trying to illustrate the point that you couldn’t imagine being able to change the biology of a person... I believe you will. In time.”

“You think?”

“It wasn’t a compliment... But yes. Evolution does tend to push one forward.” She sat in the chair, ready for the transformation to begin, one of Topher Brink’s assistants hooking her up to the machine.

“Whoa,” he said suddenly, turning his gaze from the monitor to her in quick succession, “Um... This... This is changing.... Everything. I mean, not just the heart...s. Plural. And not just the brain, but... This...is going to hurt.”

“Oh yes... There are going to be screams. A lot of them.”

There were times, even now, when he gave her treatment, he could still hear the screams that filled the air of this office. He was used to them screaming, the actives, when their mind was wiped. Especially if they were new to the process. But that had been something altogether different.

He turned abruptly, going to the wall compartment that all original imprints were placed, seeking the one empty slot that he had to fill.

[ROMANADVORATRELUNDAR - ORIGINAL] the label read.

Davora watched as the blue box slowly disappeared from sight, the man with sad eyes disappearing with it. Her hands clutched at the towel wrapped around her form. The swim had been relaxing, but something had made her cut the swimming session short, and had made it just in time to see him leave.

Forever.

Her eyes not left until all traces of the blue box were gone, a feeling of sadness coming over her. But just as it did, an image, blurry, came at her. Of two people she had never seen, of a man she had never seen, and yet... It made her think of the man with sad eyes. Curly hair. Long colourful scarf. In a place she had not seen with her eyes.

“Nice, isn’t it?”

“Yes, marvellous.”

“Marvellous. Absolutely.”

“Absolutely marvellous.”

“Well I think it’s marvellous.”

“So do I. But it’s not quite as you described it.”

“Really? How did I describe it?”

“Well, you said it was ‘nice.’”

“It’s the only place in the Universe where one can relax entirely.”

“Hmm... That bouquet!”

“What Paris has, -it has an ethos... A life... It has...”

“A bouquet?”

“A spirit all of its own. Like a wine, it has...”

Davora smiled to herself, no longer having the feeling of sadness. Her eyes looked to the area in which the man with sad eyes disappeared, and in a happy tone, said out loud, “A bouquet.”

The End.