Author: Anna

Title: Lines

Pairing: 12th Doctor/Time Lady/Lord!Reader

Prompt: After convincing you to return to the TARDIS with him, the Doctor is concerned you won't love him anymore because of his age, or worse, you won't find him attractive anymore – you set to prove him wrong.

Notes: To the anon who pointed out that there was something wrong with the layout of my fic: Thank you! I don't know why but whenever I try to transfer my fics from AO3 onto here the coding gets in the way, and when I first upload it onto Doc Manager it always looks okay so thank you so much for pointing it out! I hope you enjoy!

Lines

How he had managed to convince you to return to the TARDIS was beyond you, but Madame Vastra had discreetly informed you that if anything did go wrong, you always had a home here. Grateful, you simply smiled and said that you hoped that you wouldn't be moving in any time soon. She gave you a rare smile as she agreed before sending you on your way.

Leaving Clara in Glasgow as you rushed off to get coffee, you noticed that the Doctor was acting different, stranger. Almost anxious. He also tried to distract you from this by taking the scenic route to where he claimed the best coffee shop was in the galaxy. By scenic route, you mean small adventures where, yes, you almost died, but that's the addiction that is travelling with the Doctor.

Finally, when you had a quiet moment, you moved out to the control room to find the Doctor quietly strumming at his guitar. "I didn't know you played." You offer as a greeting.

"Neither did I." He smiles back. You look at him, the eyebrows were definitely compensating for the lack of eyebrows the Doctor had during the latter half of his previous regeneration. The hair seemed to be getting better with each regeneration since Ears, and the accent was new and different, which kind of excited you at the same time as tore at your heart as each time, you remembered Amelia Pond, the Girl Who Waited. And the eyes, wise and striking, they captivated you every time you saw them. And his face.

You would admit that it had been a long time since you had been around an older version of the Doctor, but you didn't mind. You still thought him handsome.

"Couldn't sleep?" His voice breaks you from your thoughts.

"No, still burning off the adrenaline I think." You go to start fiddling with the controls, his eyes following you closely. "What about you?"

"I don't need sleep."

"We need exactly the same amount of sleep, you just choose to run yourself ragged." He barely hums a retort. "Doctor, are you okay?" He looks over at you, confused. "You are acting really strangely."

"Regeneration sickness." He shrugs it off.

"No, you've passed that and you know it." You raise an eyebrow at his deflection.

"Then it's just this face then." He starts to avoid looking at your face in a very non-discreet way.

"Doctor." You state firmly. "I have known you for long enough to know when you are anxious, you give off the same energy. What's wrong?" Silence rings between you. "All I ask is for you to be honest. Otherwise I'm gone, we agreed to that." You pause, waiting for an answer before standing up. "I'll leave you to it then." You stand and go to return to your bedroom before he speaks up.

"I don't like hugs." You turn at him confused. "I'm not sure I even like holding hands. I'm new, I'm not sure yet."

"I know you don't like hugs, that's why I haven't hugged you yet?" Your statement comes out as a question.

"I want to hug you." He seems to struggle for words.

"Then hug me." You can't seem to see why he was struggling.

"I can't. It'll hurt more when you leave." Your brows knit together as you pull your lips in in confusion.

"Are you planning on leaving me somewhere again? Or kicking me out? Or lying to me, or hurting me?" He shakes his head as the guitar is put down. "Then why would I leave?"

"Look at me!" The anger in his voice seems to rupture out of nowhere, and his eyes seemed to be fuelled with fear and fury mashed together to form an extreme clash of emotions.

"I am looking at you." You offer quietly. "You say look at me as if you are a monster when I just see a man."

"An old man." He argues back. "Why would you want to stay with me? I'm old and grouchy. That ruler from whatever thought I was your grandfather! How could you stay with someone, how could you even consider loving someone that everyone thinks is your grandfather?" You move up to hold his hand as he continues to rage, gripping tightly as he tries to pull away.

"I have been with you from the beginning," you finally interrupt, "and I plan to be there at the end. I don't care what other people think, I love you for you."

"You won't even wear your wedding ring." He points out as if that is proof that he disgusts you.

"I don't wear it because you left me stranded in Victorian London for five years. That's a long time to stay stranded in one place." You gently grab his other hand and start pulling at it to make him face you. "Doctor. No matter what you look like, you are still my Doctor."

"I'm old." He all but whines.

"I'm old too, the only difference is that I wear it better." He grunts and raises an attack-eyebrow as he so proudly calls them. "Doctor, you could be with someone who changes faces with every regeneration. You are stuck with me, at least for the time being. Would you leave me for that?" He looks at you offended.

"Of course not!"

"Then why would I leave you because you have a few more lines on your face? Why would I leave you because after your last faces being so young you are now a bit more mature? Well, at least look it." He lets out a quiet laugh. "I love you for you, I'm not leaving you for something so small. I have loved every single one of you, young and old, and that's not going to change any time soon. You already had to fight to convince me to come back. Why are you worried now?" He opens his mouth to argue, so you pull him down and force him into a kiss; which, after a second of shock, he returns happily. "Proof enough?"

"I might need reminding in a hour or so." You smack his arm lightly.

"Cheeky." You kiss him again softly. "Five years, eleven months, three days and six hours."

"Hmm?"

"Since I last kissed you, not including the last one." He pulls you into a hug. "Thought you hated hugs."

"Thought I told you I wouldn't mind if it was with you." He retorts, holding on tighter as if he was scared you'd fade away into nothingness.

"We should probably go get coffee and go back to Clara."

"In a minute." He pulls back. "I haven't seen you in five years, six months and twelve days. We have a time machine, and all of time and space to reconnect." He suddenly yawns.

"Mm. We have a time machine, and a giant bed that needs to be used before we can even consider all of time and space." He sends you a smirk. "To sleep! Rassilon help me if this face is a pervert."

"All of my faces are perverts, they were just better at hiding it." You roll your eyes as he kisses you again, a little bit harder than before, as if he needed confirmation that you were still here. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. Now, I need a new name for you. Lines or Scottish?"

"Don't you even think about it."