(Author's Note: This takes place as soon as the TARDIS has been released back into the control room in the episode, The Doctor's Wife. It's mostly a stream of consciousness because I'm obsessed with Idris and the TARDIS and I don't think I'll ever get over that episode.

Standard disclaimers apply. I own nothing but my own imagination.)

Oh. Well that's different. She's changed, no she's hasn't. Well, she's changed, but she hasn't changed into something different. She's back. That's it, she's back, and she's not sure if she's happy about it. Is she happy? She doesn't quite remember what happy feels like. She thinks she must be. She's exactly where she's supposed to be, out of that terribly unstable body-oh it hurt so much. Everything hurt. Her head, her bones, her heart, her-what were they called? They were by her heart, they made her breathe-her lungs! Her lungs hurt-she's never had lungs before, or a head or bones for that matter. But that doesn't matter anymore because she's okay now, and she thinks she might be happy. She doesn't see any reason she wouldn't be happy. She's back where she belongs and she's safe and she doesn't hurt and she's gotten rid of House and she's with her Doctor-

Oh. She almost forgot. Her Doctor. Her thief. Now she knows she isn't happy because she remembers how happy she was before. She remembers when she could talk to him. She remembers when she first said words. She'd never said words before. Words are so silly. She rather liked words though. They were very strange. She had felt each syllable dripping off her tongue and suddenly her Doctor could understand her! She didn't have to send him ominous and confusing signs, she could talk to him in a language he could understand.

She can't talk to him anymore. She finds it strange and terribly sad that she can translate every language inside his head, and yet she can't tell him a single word of her own.

But she was able to finally say hello! She is so very very glad that she could say hello. She never got the chance when he stole her-that is, when she stole him. It isn't very polite to steal someone without even saying hello, but now she has. Shouldn't she be happy? Shouldn't this make her so unbelievably happy that she finally was able to say what she'd wanted to for nearly 700 years? Maybe she is happy. Yes, yes she must be. She said what she meant to say and that is that.

No it isn't.

There was something else too-something else she wanted to say, something else she tried to say-oh!

She loves him! That's it. She loves her Doctor and she can't tell him and now she knows she is not happy. She is sad. She is very sad. She tried to tell him! She tried very hard but there wasn't enough time. Not enough time! A stupid box that can travel through all of time and space didn't even have enough time to say I love you.

Now her time has run out. She won't talk. She won't breathe. She won't smile. She won't laugh. She won't cry-She thinks if she was back in that other body she would be crying. She's never cried before. She imagines it isn't very pleasant, but she'd prefer crying to this. This hurts. No it doesn't. Yes, it hurts, but not in the way that body hurt. That body hurt because it was dying, this hurts because she is alive. She knew alive was sad! What a big, complicated word! She wishes she never found that word, that stupid word, because now it hurts in the deepest part of her, it burns in her soul-she is alive.

Oh! She wants so much to speak to him, because now she can suddenly think of a thousand more things she'd like to tell him. She wants to tell him that she approves of his choice in strays this time (because she doesn't always, she never did like that blonde one, though she got used to her eventually), and that she still remembers the very first time she saw him, and every time after, that she remembers everything they've done together and everywhere they've gone, and that the chameleon circuit isn't broken, she just stays a police box because he likes it. She wants to tell him all of these things and more and also to kiss him again, she likes kissing, she'd very much like to do that again. She wants to tell him that she loves him! Her Doctor, her thief, her-her-her-her-her-what's he gone and done now? What is her thief doing? She hadn't been paying all that much attention to him before, but now he was doing things, he was always doing things! He could never sit still, and she was honestly quite fond of his restless antics.

"Are you there?" He asks, suddenly still and thoughtful.

Yes, of course she's there. What a silly question. Why would her Doctor ask that? He knows she's there. She'll always be there.

"Can you hear me?"

Yes, of course she can hear him! So many questions, this one! He can be a right idiot sometimes. He's lucky she can't speak back anymore.

"Oh, I'm a silly old..."

Yes, Doctor. But he's her silly old...

"Okay. The Eye of Orion... or wherever we need to go," he directs her kindly.

That's better. The Eye of Orion is certainly not where he needs to go, and she knows that. She knows exactly where he belongs, and she's going to take him there. She knows where she belongs too. She belongs right here, stuck in the box, as her Doctor puts it.

He's laughing and dancing around the control room, and she thinks she would laugh too if she could. She can't, but she would, and she would dance too, maybe even dance with him. But even though she can't, for now she is happy. She knows it. They take off for some far flung planet, the madman and his box, the box and her madman. Her thief. Her Doctor.

(Please please review! This is my first fic for Doctor Who, simply because I've never trusted myself to do justice to the characters before, so a little reassuring would be nice. It would make all the time, love, and hard work that goes into writing these worth it.

Much love,
PrettyLittleMonster Xxx)