(Disclaimer: I own neither the Doctor, Matt Smith, the TARDIS, or anything Who-related. Sob. I promise I'll put them back where I found them.)
Regeneration
The Doctor ran his hands lovingly over the new console, the levers and buttons and random spinning things. Gently, he flicked the switches necessary and sighed. "Just to the moon and back, my darling. It won't take long," he said, equally happy and sad at that statement. Happy because this time she might say yes, and sad because it was such a short trip for his brand new TARDIS.
He brushed the unfamiliar hair out of his brand new eyes with strange hands. Regeneration always felt odd, even after all this time. A whole new body to get used to. He always found himself to be rather clumsier than usual afterwards, as his brain got used to new limbs, the reach of his arms, the length of his stride. It was like wearing a new suit for the first time; he had to understand the relationship between the pieces, how far he could stretch out his hands before the fabric under his arms tore, how close he could get to doing the splits before he ripped his trousers. Yes, exactly like wearing a new suit.
The constant yet inconsistent changing of his body had also made him see himself very objectively over the many years. He looked in the mirror and thought things like: 'Blimey, that bloke's chin is huge', or 'Why would anyone in their right mind get that haircut?'. He saw what everyone else saw, and had very little delusions about his attractiveness. Apart from, of course, the tiny part of his brain that said 'my outstanding amazingness can shine through any exterior'. He liked that part of his brain.
The engines roared as the TARDIS moved through space and, unbeknownst to the Doctor, time. An absent-minded smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he listened to that sound. The sound that had meant safety for over nine hundred years. The sound that meant freedom and crushing responsibility at the same time, companionship and loneliness, power and vulnerability. That sound was as much a part of him that any of his faces, and maybe more.
There was a soft thud as the TARDIS landed, and the Doctor automatically put out a hand to steady himself, before walking towards that door. Opening it, he poked his head out and smiled contentedly at the surface of the moon, the pure black of space that surrounded it, and the tiny ball of green and blue that was the closest planet to home. The Doctor fiercely loved every living creature, every example of miraculous life, no matter its place in the universe, but that tiny planet that its inhabitants called 'Earth' was his favourite of all.
Speaking of which, he thought, he'd better get back to Amy before she thought he'd abandoned her again. Although, strictly speaking, since he had a time machine, he could stay away for decades and still get back seconds before he'd gone. But he didn't want to. He was lonely. Having company was as natural to Time Lords as regeneration; indeed, the TARDIS itself was built for six pilots. And he hadn't had any for so long. Besides, Amy deserved a little fun after those four psychiatrists. You had to pity them. And there was definitely something odd about her house…
The Doctor gently closed the wooden door and bounced back up to the console. "Thank you, dear," he breathed, and the TARDIS hummed in reply.
(A/N: This one-shot runs along a similar theme to 'Stars', so if you liked this please check that out. Please review; whether you love it or hate it I'd love to know what you think.)