He'd taken to rereading the same books over and over again. Those same trusty fiction works he had always loved by authors he had always loved. Some Conan Doyle, some Dickens, some Eliot, some Tolstoy. Maybe even some Christie thrown in there on a good day. And the occasional old notebook of legends he still had from the days of Gallifrey if he was feeling particularly nostalgic. Something easy. Something that had an ending he already knew. Because Rassilon knows, he didn't need any more endings.

He sat by the phone most of the time, though he didn't know why. Probably because he hadn't bothered to go exploring the TARDIS since she'd changed. Probably because he was trying to pretend she hadn't changed at all, that nothing had changed, at all. Because nothing had, nothing had, nope, not a thing.

Sometimes the phone would ring, though those days were becoming more and more rare, if one could say they had ever been frequent. But when it did, it was always her and it was always because someone had come and answered the final one word test with something interesting enough she thought he might be engaged. Or something stupid enough she thought it might humor him. One of the two. But the conversations always ended the same way. 'Goodbye.' 'But Doctor-' And he would have to suppress the urge to tell her not to call him that anymore, so he would hang up instead. And Strax would give him grief about it the next day, but he had learned long ago not to pay much mind to a talking potato.

At some point during his millionth reading of A Tale of Two Cities, the phone rang. He rolled his eyes and pulled off his glasses (not hers, they were no longer hers, they were his, his glasses) and picked up the phone, licking his lips. He didn't have to say anything. She always started talking first.

"Strax says he hasn't seen you in a while."

"Well hello to you, too, Madam Vastra."

"You're the one who always likes to skip the small talk." He could almost hear the smirk in her voice.

"I believe congratulations are in order," he said. Turn the conversation towards her.

"Thank you, Doctor. And thank you from Jenny, too." A slight pause. "Though we had hoped to see you at the ceremony."

"Ceremony?"

"As much of a ceremony as one can have with only one friend in attendance."

"I'm sure Strax was friend enough."

"Speaking of..."

"Yes," he admitted with a slight nod of the head. "I suppose it has been a few days since we saw one another. What can I say, I'm a very busy man."

"That's a lie and you know it as well as I do. All you do is read."

"I do more than read!"

"Oh really?" He could hear the creak of a chair as though she was leaning back.

"Yes. I'll have you know that I've created several new settings for the sonic."

"Oh? Does it work on wood now?"

He paused. "Still working on that one."

"Of course."

"Is that all you've called for?" he asked, tone sharper than he intended, though he did not care to correct it. "Because I am hanging up now."

"This is the longest you've been up there without dropping in."

"Hanging up now..."

"Doctor!"

It was the edge to her voice, the sharpness and clarity that he had not heard since their first meeting that made his hand pause halfway between his ear and the base. "What?" he asked, almost hesitantly.

Thankfully, her tone was calmer when she continued speaking. "You know Strax. If one of us doesn't keep an eye on him, he'll be throwing grenades faster than-"

"-oh, cut the act. This isn't about Strax. It's about me and you thinking that a few parties and a wedding ceremony will somehow fix things."

"Well it certainly won't hurt! And at least you are acknowledging something needs fixing. I don't know about Time Lords, but that is what Silurians call progress."

"Back to the hanging up now."

"Doctor, we are your fr-"

"-Don't," he said coolly. "Just... don't."

There was silence on the other end of the line and at first, he thought she might have hung up. Until her voice came again, softer than he

could ever remember hearing it. "I am sorry, Doctor... but regardless of whether or nor you consider or call us friends, you are friend to us."

There was another pause that he did not bother to fill. "I merely wish to make sure that you know that."

A small smile graced his lips, one that he knew should not be there, one that no longer belonged there and hadn't for a good one while. She was insane, Madam Vastra. Obnoxiously stubborn, too. All three of them were. But, even he had to admit, she had the best of intentions.

He didn't realize how long he had been silent until her voice filled the line again. "Doctor? Is our connection alright?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah... we're alright."

"Good... I mean it, Doctor."

"I know you do."

He knew she was smiling. "Will we see you soon?"

"Honestly?"

"Honest would be nice."

"Probably not."

"Not even for a good reason?"

He hesitated, straightening up in his seat slightly. "One word as to why I should? Just one."

"Reception."

He hesitated. "When? In one word, of course."

That same smug tone, as though she knew he was winning him over. "Now."

He would only be out for less than an hour. No bow tie. No tweed jacket. He wouldn't drink, though she would assure him the drinks were not alcoholic. He'd say very little, hardly smile at all, lean against the bookshelf almost the entire time while Strax rambled about guns and armor and the happy couple grinned, foolishly in love.

But he wouldn't be expected to be engaged. He wouldn't be expected to entertain them with reminiscing of what the night reminded him wouldn't be expected to be the savior of nations.

A thousand year old Time Lord. He could take baby steps.