Lucy liked her new outfit. It was a blue dress that fell below her knees and wasn't too tight or embarassing. It flattered her figure and when she turned around to look at herself in the mirror, a horrible mess didn't look back. For once ( Read more... )

"Do you miss him ( Read more... )

Males and females have never seemed to fully understand each other. It will probably continue this way, but I think that's part of the magic of it all. -Scott BairstowThe Doctor ( Read more... )

Following this ficlet.

Her hair was still piled rather precariously on her head, the red dress still hanging awkwardly on her thin frame. She knew what she was doing when she started at the beginning. She knew what Harry---what the Master was offering her. And she took it ( Read more... )

What makes you so special?

He wants me.

You can see it, right? Right there, in the way he looks at me. I'm his companion, I'm his wife. He's the Prime Minister of Great Britian. He's the Master of all things.

Being attached to that makes me special. I'm special. I'm importantHe won't go to the end of the universe without me. He won't ( Read more... )

Isabella's. An excellent tapas restaurant not far from where Lucy had been living. She put on her black dress with the beige trim, pulled up her hair and splashed on a little makeup. For all that she wanted to impress this fellow, she was still a married woman ( Read more... )

She had dreams, once.

Dreams of traveling the world, seeing new places, letting foreign sands from oceans a hundred thousand miles away peek through her toes. She used to dream of lying on an Italian beach, letting the warm breeze whisk her hair up and away. The sun was everywhere in her dreams. It was…

(  It didn't matter what it was, it wasn't going to happen, now. )

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Doctor Shaw tells me that this sort of thing is "good" for me, writing down my feelings and such.

I think it is juvenile.

I will do it because I must.