It was a perfectly ordinary little coffee shop. Disgustingly ordinary, even. But Amy and Rory had wanted a day in London, so here they were. Or rather, here he was, as Amy had abducted Rory for secret shopping schemes. All in all, he was better off in the coffee shop.
He stared out the window to the busy streets around him. London wasn't his favorite place these days. Too many memories, too many too recent. Give it another hundred years, and 21st century London would once again be harmless. But for now, he was sure that if he went two streets down and turned left, he would find the alley where Donna would park her car. And just a few streets down from that, Rose Tyler was probably yelling at her mum. Perhaps the hospital they'd passed on the way here was where Martha Jones was doing her residencies. The temptation to go find them, to just peek in on the lives that they'd had before him, was overwhelming. It was probably why he was clutching his teacup so hard. It was also probably why the girl standing next to his table had to clear her throat twice before he looked up.
"Excuse me sir, can I have this chair? I mean, you're not waiting for no one or nothing?"
His mouth opened, closed, opened again. Here he was, trying so hard not to go track her down, and Rose Tyler had come to him. He looked just as she had on New Year's Eve, when he had finally truly said goodbye. Her hair was a little bit longer, maybe, but she was wearing that denim skirt she loved so much, only now it looked new.
"Er, yes, yes, of course. I mean, no I'm not. Waiting for anyone. And I love your skirt, by the way. You should wear it. I mean, keep wearing it. I mean…" He could've swallowed his own tongue.
She looked at him oddly. "Right, then. I like your… bowtie. I guess. Bowties are… cool." She took the chair and backed away. "Um, bye, then."
Some Wibbly-Wobbliness Earlier…
"I like the suit! The suit… .suits me," he insisted as he ran around the TARDIS console, doing his best to land smoothly.
"All I'm saying," Rose sounded a little out of breath, probably from trying to hang on to the railing, "Is that maybe that tie isn't such a great idea!"
He glanced down at his tie, all twelve lime green inches. "What for? What else would I wear?"
"I don't know! Anything! Wear a bowtie, for all I care, just not that!"
He paused. Then the TARDIS made a funny noise and he started running again. "I have very mixed feelings about bowties. And is really the moment to be discussing this?" he shouted as the TARDIS lurched alarmingly to one side.
"I thought you said it was fine?"
"It is fine! I… just… a bowtie? Really?"
"Well, no, not really. I've never met a man that looks good in a bowtie. Except this guy in a coffee shop, once, but that was an exception. Just anything but that particular tie."
"Hm." He was an exception. Maybe a bowtie was a good idea after all. But not if it meant giving up this tie. He filed the possibility away for a later time.
A/N: Ahem. If you liked this story... and would like to read more about our favorite Doctor... you should leave me a review. 'Cause that's how I know that I'm not just shouting into the proverbial empty ether. That's all. :)