She'd lost him.
The Doctor.
The tall, gangly idiot had left her in the Tardis, mumbling on about sprockets or spriggets and thingamabobs, and now here she is. Alone. That dotty man. She's not known him for very long, and the Tardis is still just a mysterious expanse filled with rooms and halls. It drives her wild with curiosity. So she does what anyone does when curious.
She explores.
It's fun, this exploring.
There's the excitement of seeing something new without the terror of near death experiences. Not that she doesn't appreciate those moments, it keeps her on her toes. Still, she feels as though she's seeing a new side of the Doctor every time she finds a new room.
There's a room filled shells. All sorts of shells, some sort of recognizable to her, some completely strange and foreign. One thing that surprises her is the stamp of a lipstick smooch, staining the base of a shell. It's actually on a few shells, scattered here and there. She wonders if the kissed shells are gifts from the Doctor's secret girlfriend. The thought makes her giggle.
Another room now, a library. It's beautiful. Tall shelves that almost seem to hold the ceiling, spanning across all the walls of the room, and the shelves are filled to the brim with books. Loads and loads of books. A little plaque is nailed to the shelf nearest to her. It reads, "Library #3" and she marvels at it. Not only does the Tardis have random and interesting rooms, it has at least three different libraries. She's more than impressed. There's a comfy looking couch, a merry fireplace warming the coffee table in front of it. She doesn't even question the fire crackling in the hearth, the Tardis has surprised her enough to not be startled by an already lit fireplace. She sits down on the couch, there are a few books on the coffee table in front of her.
She picks up a book. The history of some planet whose name she can't pronounce.
Another book. The biography of a man in the year 6072.
Next book. The burial site of an Uthren pharaoh.
She doesn't understand any of the books' subjects, but that's not what catches her attention. What catches her attention are the notes in the books. Red pen ink underlines certain passages and lines of each book, and questions are written on the sides of the pages.
"Sweetie," it reads on the first book. "Is that really it? Something doesn't add up. Things aren't quite lining together the way they should."
And underneath the red, there's a reply in blue.
"Sorry," writes the blue. "That was me. A brawl near a memory wipe scanner. I really did tell those guards I was in a hurry. Apparently missing a date wasn't the topmost terrifying thing they'd ever experienced."
And again in the red.
"Clearly, Sweetie, they've never dated me."
She feels as though she's eavesdropping in a way, so she closes the book and moves on. She leaves the library and walks down the hall. She's so focused on looking for new doors, she doesn't notice where she's walking and trips. Scowling and rubbing her now bruised knee, she glares at the things that had tripped her.
A pair of red heels. Foxy heels. Definitely feminine shoes, maybe the Doctor really does have a secret girlfriend.
She gets up and walks further down the hall, this time watching where she's going. A room catches her eye, and the room is dark when she enters. She turns on the light.
Not much to see, a couple couches and a few bean bags scattered across the floor. She almost turns around and leaves.
Then she notices a square hole in the wall, and some kind of fancy, foreign projector resting in it. She turns it on, hoping there's something in the player already. She really doesn't even know if she's turning it on.
It flickers on, already in mid play. She dims the lights, settles into the nearest bean bag, and watches.
A woman is smiling, looking at the person who's filming her. Blond curls frame her face, mint eyes blink once as she laughs. Her curved nose wrinkles, sun kissed cheeks pinken.
"Sweetie," she scolds. "You shouldn't tease when filming. You might record something indecent."
"I hope to." A smug voice says.
It's her Doctor's voice, she realizes. He sounds different in the video, though the same, but lighter somehow.
"Well, let's not disappoint then." The woman says, reaching her hand forward to bring the filming Doctor close to her.
She kisses him.
The Doctor films it.
Strawberry colored lips touch the Doctor's paler ones, tanned hands reach around his neck and play with his floppy hair. She hums as she pulls back, her eyes bright and happy.
"How was that for scandalous?" She asks. The Doctor pretends to contemplate the question, a finger tapping his pronounced chin, before winking at her, his free hand wrapping around her waist.
"Pretty good, but I think it could be better." He says. She raises a delicate eyebrow, her hands still playing with his hair.
"And how would you suggest we make it better?"
"Well, for starters, we could do it some more."
"Why Doctor, how forward of you. How shocking." She says coyly.
"I think you can bear the shock." He teases, his hand moving from her waist to bop her on the nose.
"I suppose I'll have to." She sighs, though a smile pulls the corners of her lips up. The Doctor kisses her again. She kisses him back.
"Stop recording." She says suddenly, remembering she's on camera.
"But I've just started," he protests. "And we've got some exciting places to see, and things to tour. And tourists film things!" She snorts.
"Where did you hear that?"
"From a reliable source."
"You mean you?"
"Maybe...but I'm sure that's what tourists do! And I've done it more that you have." He pouts childishly. She shakes her head in exasperation.
"I can't take you anywhere."
"Technically, I'm the one who's taking you places." Her eyes narrow as she glares at him, then she laughs.
"You're impossible."
"You mean impossibly handsome?" She laughs again, kissing him once.
"I hate you sometimes."
"No, you don't. After all, you married me."
"That I did."
The lights turn on.
The Doctor is breathing heavily, his fingers clutching the switch.
"Turn it off." He says hoarsely. She does.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I just- was curious and-"
"Just leave it."
"I didn't mean-"
"Leave it." He says, words biting and harsh. Her mouth snaps shut, he rubs his face with one hand.
"Sorry." He apologizes.
"S'okay. I'm sorry. Are- are you okay?"
"Of course." He says, instantly brightening and then rambling on about an island he's going to show her.
It feels false, and as he leads her back to the console room, she notices he keeps looking back in the direction of the movie room.
It's later that night, and she's almost asleep when a sound wakes her. After a moment of listening, she finds it's the Tardis making the noise. She doesn't know what it means, but it sounds sad, almost as if the Tardis is grieving.
She pads through the dimly lit halls, following a different sound that's barely a whisper. It leads to the movie room. The door is closed, but she can hear a movie playing. It's the woman's voice that she hears. Someone, she assumes it's the Doctor, rewinds one segment and replays it over and over again.
"Hello Sweetie."
"Hello Sweetie."
"Hello Sweetie."
Then it stops. A voice, she'd says it's the Doctor's but it's so overladen with sorrow, whispers,
"Hi honey, I'm home."
Quiet.
A sob.
Quiet again.
Rewind.
"Hello Sweetie."
"I miss you."
Rewind.
"Hello Sweetie."
"Come back to me."
Rewind.
"Hello Sweetie."
Silence.
She walks back to her room, shaken. He'd smiled during the day, laughed even. Seemed normal. Happy.
She guesses that's his defense.
But oh, when he'd thought he was alone. Torturing himself in his misery. So quiet. So different than in the day, when he never stops talking. Maybe, just maybe, it's so he never notices she neveranswers him.
Even so, it's unnerving, his silence.
Not expected.
He'd always seemed like a hero, a knight in shining armor, a god.
What a lonely god.
And in his loneliness, never more had he seemed so human.