Because it's been a year since we lost Mary.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

Holding Hands

Sometimes when holding Romana's hand, the Doctor would become caught up in how pleasant it felt. The way her cool, slender fingers slid between his, fitting perfectly. The way their palms brushed together as they ran.

Sometimes he would hold her hand just because he felt like it. Sometimes she would notice that there was no apparent reason and he would have to make something up.

"There are Vashta Nerada here. Run!"

All in all, it was a rather happy coincidence that Romana liked it when the Doctor held her hand.


Cuddling Somewhere

The Doctor entered the library to find Romana curled up on an armchair, completely absorbed in a book. Her eyes roved across the page and she bit her bottom lip in concentration. He gazed at her fondly for a few moments, then moved towards her. He perched on the arm of the chair and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Good book?" he asked.

"Very," she replied without looking up.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

She sighed and stood up out of his way. He slid down on to the chair and she sat back down on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she lent back against him. They continued in silence, her reading and him watching.


Watching a Movie

"Titanic?" Romana said incredulously. "You think watching Titanic will help me understand human culture?"

"Yes," the Doctor responded. "And I won't take no for an answer."

So it was that, in the evening, Romana found herself plonked in front of a television with strains of Celine Dion issuing forth. She was not impressed.

"This is terribly inaccurate," she muttered.

"Hush."

She sat there sulkily, determined not to get sucked in.

At the end of the film, as the image of Jack and Rose faded from the screen, Romana sat up. "Doctor?"

"Yes," he said, glancing sideways at her.

"I think my feels are broken," she whispered from behind a cushion.