So, there is this dog you see that won't leave me alone. It's dark here and late and I want to sleep and update my writing portfolio but Doctor Who is raging inside me and that dog won't go away. So i'm up. Writing this. I have a theme with it. Promptly destroy what you treasure most, then conquer love.
Oh, I only own my words. Some old dead British guys own everything else.
"It's nice out." He smiled.
He had been leaning over the railing and watching the stars. She nodded. She looked upset. He frowned.
"Yeah, it's beautiful. I always liked the moon." He nodded. Her eyes were skyward.
"I was there once. It wasn't what I thought it would be. Too cold." He shivered and rubbed his hands together. She smiled for a moment before it melted away. Her arms weren't so tightly crossed.
"I imagine the earthlight is beautiful this time of the year." She walked just a step closer. Perhaps she knew. He licked his lips and grabbed the railing, suddenly feeling like he would lose it.
"Oh, it is. But it's not really the same unless you have someone to dance with."
"I'm sure."
He straightened up and looked right at her. He could do this. She noticed his attention on her and stepped back.
"Do you want to?"
"Do I want to?
"Dance in the earthlight."
"What?"
"Oh." He turned away.
Maratha narrowed her eyes. He was irritated at her.
"You can't dance on the moon."
"Martha Jones, what tragic event has occurred within the last day to render that ignorant thesis?"
"There's no gravity on the moon! You'd just float."
"Gravity!" He threw his hands in the air, outraged.
"Yes. That."
"Easily solved." He waved his hand dismissively.
"How."
He scoffed. He could not beleive she was even arguing or asking.
"I know things. I've got skills and gadgets, and, and," he couldn't think of a proper word to describe his arsenal.
"Okay then." She stepped forward. She was game. He smiled and jumped up.
"Yeah?"
"Let's dance on the moon." Martha shook her head, as if in disbelief at her own words and actions.
"They're rules though." She sighed. His happiness threatened to die. He listened, and his hearts grew a little cold.
"Rose." She frowned.
"Rose." He repeated unsure.
"Rose is not invited to our date."
"Done! Just the Doctor and Martha. I'm 11." He held out his hand and she accepted.
"I'm 24."
Their arms linked and they walked back inside.
"How did you know it was me?"
"Your eyes."
"Yeah?"
"They're so . . sad."
He had a double take. He looked at himself in a mirror as he passed by, scrutinizing his face.
"Okay, now I'm going to do something and I don't want you to take any offense to it."
He pushed her hard into a crowd of people and ran while they were distracted. Martha searched the room, but could not find him. She felt her heart grow a little bitter.
"There you are you!" Martha turned. Her Doctor. So much for a dance. Martha put on her best face and walked over to her alien.
"I needed some air. The ego and genius is suffocating.
The lights went out. Something locked fingers with hers and she felt herself being pulled towards the unknown.
"Run."
"To the moon?"
"To the moon!"
He stopped. She stopped and knocked into him because of his sudden stopping.
"I have rules."
"You can't have rules if I have rules."
"Overruled."
"Really?"
"I get jealous of myself." He shrugged. It really was a burden and annoyance. The petty arguments and friendships he's lost.
"I don't know how to respond to that." Martha was starting to really question the company she kept.
"You're in love with that version of me and he's not invited to our dates."
"If you keep your Rose away."
"Deal?"
He held out his other hand, she took and they shook.
"This is going to be a beautiful friendship."
