This was my first ever attempt at fanfiction written back in 2006. I found it, re-read it and thought it wasn't all that bad; what do you think?
Remember; this was my first attempt! Con-crit is warmly welcomed!
Distraction
It was only after discovering he was staring blindly at the consol for the umpteenth time, hours passing in just a moment that the Doctor truly admitted to himself just how much he missed her.
It had surprised him; he hadn't expected to be so deeply affected. After all, their time was so short; in nine hundred years their time was merely a blink, over in a heartbeat. What he couldn't understand was why she was haunting him so; he'd had to leave people behind before, just as he'd been left.
And yet he found himself lingering over memories of her: the intelligence that lurked behind those eyes; those beautiful eyes that penetrated so deeply it felt as though they brushed his soul. The way with a single touch she touched every aspect of his life, drawing him in and awakening a desire he'd not felt for centuries.
He smiled, feeling a burning pleasure and pride at the memory of the courage she'd shown, in every situation – she'd stood against enemies far beyond her comprehension and yet remained strong in situations where he himself almost faltered.
She was his match in every way … she'd softened him and taught him so much, in such a short amount of time. She'd challenged him, hurt him; done more than he could ever have expected.
And that kiss … he revelled in the memory, drawing breath and closing his eyes – however unexpected, how he wished he could dwell in that moment, that memory of her; his vision suddenly full of eyes, lips; so passionate yet soft and oh so very real.
The way she'd just kept surprising him…
The knowledge that he could never see her again tore through him once more, wrenching his breath away. He grasped the consol even tighter, his knuckles turning white. The pain passed, just as it always did, leaving a little more dead space inside him. His fingers toyed on the consol, edging towards the controls that would allow him to go back … just to see her again … even watch from a distance as she went about her life, oblivious even to his existence …
His companion entered the consol room breaking his concentration. Her voice seemed to echo as she told of the latest trick the TARDIS had played on her and yet, somehow, he couldn't fully comprehend what she was saying. The smile he spread across his face felt like a mask and he hated himself for it.
His companion leant against the consol watching the Doctor as he mundanely flipped a switch or two; her stomach sinking slightly as she saw, once again, that his smile didn't reach his eyes. A small bubble of resentment mixed with jealousy began to form inside her; he was still pining over her? How long was it going to last? And a small, sly voice whispered silkily in her ear that maybe she just wasn't good enough to be his companion; not enough to distract him. That she couldn't give him what he wants, be what he wants; who he wants. The bubble melted into sadness and she dropped her gaze, missing the look in the Doctor's eyes as he looked at her. He felt guilty and annoyed at himself for supposing he could hide his feelings from her and resolved to make it up to her.
'So,' he proclaimed loudly, mentally shaking himself out of his stupor, 'where to?'
Anywhere to regain what we've lost, she thought silently. Out loud, however, she said, 'Y'know, I could really go for chips right now.'
'For you, Rose Tyler,' he replied with a genuine smile, 'anything.' He laughed as she grinned with delight and began describing just how she wanted her chips; salt, vinegar, ketchup – every conceivable condiment was to be added.
Chips, he thought, setting the controls. Excellent. As far from 18th Century France as possible.