Prompt 11/15 - Loved her Enough (to Pretend Otherwise)
Prompt 11/15 - Loved her Enough (to Pretend Otherwise)
Title: Planetary Handkerchief
Rating: G
Spoilers: The Runaway Bride
Characters: Donna, the Doctor.
Set: During the episode.
--
I’ve never really known how to deal with a woman in tears. Don’t suppose any man really does, not even Captain Jack, but more often than not, the one’s that I think will want a hug slap me for touching them, and the ones that I think want the personal space cling onto my coat lapels and never let go. Not quite sure which type Donna is, yet, but she’s already reddened my cheeks enough for one day, thank you. I decide to try the third option, the one that gets me the least amount of wet shirts and hurt feelings.
I try to distract her.
And what a way to distract a person, by showing them the formation of a planet! It’s big, it’s epic, it’s monumental on a … well, on a planetary scale, that’s what. So, for something that big, it really should be on a big epic screen, and it really is too bad that the ceiling won’t do the big screen transparent thing it did for my seventh and eighth selves. That would have been pretty, but the old girl refuses to now that she’s remodelled. The doors it is, then!
She’s so tired and worn out, but there is that spark of life in her that wants to see things, wants to know just as much as I do, and it is the only thing that is keeping her going after the soul-crushing day she’s had so far. So far as that goes, it’s the only thing that’s been keeping me going for the last few hours.
Rassilon, has it only been hours since -
But she comes over, tired and defeated, but she comes, and to see her face! That’s why I travel, that’s why I wander the cosmos, and run and laugh and meddle, and do all the crazy things I do, just to feel that wonder, see that awe, feel that lo-no.
I can’t.
I won’t.
I can’t … tear my eyes away from her.
It’s so hard, she could be so brilliant, and even the Tardis is happy with her on board, even with the Huon particles dancing through her blood making the old girl sick to her couplings. She could be so much… no.
I can’t.
Because that star is still burning my soul, because it still runs ragged over my nerves, because she could be oh so brilliant, and that…no.
But maybe, maybe, mind you, she will come with me, if I’m really lucky and the universe decides to play nicely for a change. When all this is done, maybe she’ll come and we’ll run across the stars, and I can forget for a second (well, maybe half a second) why that room with the purple shirt is locked now.
Title: Planetary Handkerchief
Rating: G
Spoilers: The Runaway Bride
Characters: Donna, the Doctor.
Set: During the episode.
--
I’ve never really known how to deal with a woman in tears. Don’t suppose any man really does, not even Captain Jack, but more often than not, the one’s that I think will want a hug slap me for touching them, and the ones that I think want the personal space cling onto my coat lapels and never let go. Not quite sure which type Donna is, yet, but she’s already reddened my cheeks enough for one day, thank you. I decide to try the third option, the one that gets me the least amount of wet shirts and hurt feelings.
I try to distract her.
And what a way to distract a person, by showing them the formation of a planet! It’s big, it’s epic, it’s monumental on a … well, on a planetary scale, that’s what. So, for something that big, it really should be on a big epic screen, and it really is too bad that the ceiling won’t do the big screen transparent thing it did for my seventh and eighth selves. That would have been pretty, but the old girl refuses to now that she’s remodelled. The doors it is, then!
She’s so tired and worn out, but there is that spark of life in her that wants to see things, wants to know just as much as I do, and it is the only thing that is keeping her going after the soul-crushing day she’s had so far. So far as that goes, it’s the only thing that’s been keeping me going for the last few hours.
Rassilon, has it only been hours since -
But she comes over, tired and defeated, but she comes, and to see her face! That’s why I travel, that’s why I wander the cosmos, and run and laugh and meddle, and do all the crazy things I do, just to feel that wonder, see that awe, feel that lo-no.
I can’t.
I won’t.
I can’t … tear my eyes away from her.
It’s so hard, she could be so brilliant, and even the Tardis is happy with her on board, even with the Huon particles dancing through her blood making the old girl sick to her couplings. She could be so much… no.
I can’t.
Because that star is still burning my soul, because it still runs ragged over my nerves, because she could be oh so brilliant, and that…no.
But maybe, maybe, mind you, she will come with me, if I’m really lucky and the universe decides to play nicely for a change. When all this is done, maybe she’ll come and we’ll run across the stars, and I can forget for a second (well, maybe half a second) why that room with the purple shirt is locked now.