A/N: Hey all! It's just your friendly neighborhood The-Hogwarts-Phone-Box here! So I have this little bunny that hops around in my head, right? With the general idea being that the TARDIS has an infinite amount of rooms, my little bunny believes that, somewhere aboard this lovely TARDIS, there is a room that contains a grassy field and a swing set. Yes, there is an OC of mine present, but don't let that stop you from reading. This is really just an honest oneshot I wrote with my character in mind, and I doubt I'll be writing much more of her in the future. But for now, it's nice to kind of blow off some steam.

So this is about the friendship of the Eleventh Doctor, my personal favorite, and Maria Carter, an OC. This is NOT a romance, though there is a bunch of fluff. In my brain, this takes place after the Ponds but before Miss Oswald comes along.

And please, feel free to leave a review! And a quick note, because I've seen this happen many times before: While I enjoy constructive criticism, I don't enjoy hateful reviews. So please, save your flames for the BBQ. If you don't like what I've written, just don't read it.

I'll stop babbling now. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The-Hogwarts-Phone-Box does not, and never will, own Doctor Who. Doctor Who and the TARDIS are trademarks of the BBC. I only own Maria Carter and the swing set room (Unless it actually does exist already, in which case I would not own it).

There was a day aboard the TARDIS when I found the swing set room.

It was sometime during the night, sometime when I couldn't sleep again. I walked right past it on my way to the kitchen, spun around on my heel, and walked right on back to the door.

I peeked inside again, and found that it was indeed a generic metal swing set in the middle of the room. The room itself was covered in green grass, and the air smelled like autumn. The ceiling was covered in puffy gray clouds, making the perfect weather for swinging around on a swing set.

A giggle escaped my lips as I pushed the door open. "He's got a swing set room," I said aloud. "That is awesome."

The TARDIS hummed in approval at my delight. I glanced out into the corridor and saw nothing, deeming it safe to enter.

My bare foot stepped onto the grass, and it almost felt like I was already back home. I inhaled the aroma of the fall: the leaves dying, settling on the grass; the air, warm with the fading summer, yet intermingling with the sharp scent of winter. An unseen light danced through the clouds, giving it the illusion of almost-twilight.

"It's perfect," I murmured, gently closing the door behind me. "This place is perfect."

I bent down and pulled up a few blades of grass, rolling them between my fingers. The chlorophyll stained the tips of my nails as I released them, a light breeze carrying them away.

I stood and noticed that there were no walls to be found, no boundaries that created the feeling of entrapment. I was almost sad when I reminded myself that it was all merely a projection.

"But for now," I sauntered over to the two-seated swing set, both of which were swaying gently in the light breeze. I sat in the one farther from the door, wrapping my fingers around the silver metal chains that hung from above. "I'll just pretend it's real."

I started swinging high, but not too high. It was a peaceful serenity, and when I closed my eyes, memories of autumn in North Carolina danced behind my eyelids. Back when my mom was still alive and my dad had laugh lines around his eyes. A time when life was so much simpler, when I only had the mind of an innocent child.

And then mom died. And then there was a war. And then dad had to leave. And then I was alone.

And then the Doctor showed up.

"Oi! That's my favorite one!"

I was yanked from my childhood reveries when a voice echoed through my ears. In fact, I was so startled that I forgot I was on a swing. Thus flipping backwards and catching air.

I heard the Doctor yelp and myself gasp. I held my breath, expecting to hit the ground, when my brain kicked in and went, right, you're on a swing.

When I opened my eyes, I was met the upside-down image of the floppy-haired, wide-eyed Doctor. He had his screwdriver out, pointed at me with the green light on the end buzzing, and I myself found his expression so funny, and I was so sleep-deprived, that I laughed so hard I snorted.

"Look at your eyes," I laughed. "You look like a fish! Careful," I warned him. "They might get stuck like that."

He opened and closed his mouth, then hastily stuck his screwdriver back into his pocket. "You're meant to be sleeping," he huffed.

I shrugged, my hair barely brushing the grass below. "Can't resist a lovely swing set." I glanced up at the ceiling-sky. "The TARDIS likes me," I commented.

He nodded slowly. "Yes, it appears so. Saved you from giving yourself a concussion." He eyed the top of the swing set knowingly, and I turned my attention to the spot he was referring to.

Sure enough, the metal chains had been abruptly pulled up so that it looked as though they were suspended in midair. It looked very peculiar from my angle, and it occurred to me that had she not pulled them up, I'd have probably knocked myself unconscious.

"Thanks," I murmured. The TARDIS hummed as I put my hands back onto the chains and pulled myself up. As I did so, I felt the chains drop and so did my body.

I folded my hands in my lap, a small smile dancing on my lips. "What were you saying?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Before. When you tried to kill me with your radioactive flashlight."

He gaped at my innocent expression, almost as if he were deeply insulted. "I most certainly was not trying to- it's a screwdriver-" He threw his hands up. "Maria!"

I laughed. "No need have a stroke, Doctor."

Even as he pretended to frown, I saw a certain fondness in his eyes.

"I was saying," he continued, eyeing my suppressed grin. "That you're sitting in my favorite one."

I glanced down and up again. "The swing?"

He nodded. My attention turned to the metal chains.

"You have a room with a swing set," I stated matter-of-factly.

He folded his arms. "Yes."

"Feels like autumn."

"As it should all the time."

"Cloudy."

"I've got delicate eyebrows."

"I love it."

At my last statement, the Doctor appeared visibly confused. "My eyebrows?"

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or roll my eyes, so I just settled for shaking my head. "No," A gentle breeze blew through the air, causing wisps of hair to fan around my face. "I love this room, Doctor. The swing set."

This made him smile. He walked over and plopped down in the other swing without complaint, studying me intently those big, sad eyes.

"Tell me why," he urged.

I leaned back and looked up at the clouds. "The universe would be a better place if everyone just had a swing to swing on. Swings are for anyone who has a thought to think about. They're thinking machines. They solve problems." I paused. "I love swings, therefore I love this room, and by extension, the TARDIS as well."

He seemed intrigued by my answer as he stared off into the distant space. He began to sway gently. "So, by extension, wouldn't that mean you love me, too?" He mused.

I was so relieved to not be shocked by this question. If anyone else but the Doctor had asked this, I would have probably started panicking. But this was merely a question that he wished to seek an answer to.

I shrugged. "I suppose, if you want to look at it that way. You're my best friend now. And besides, who couldn't love the Doctor?"

I giggled when he immediately frowned. "Daleks. Cybermen. The Silence. Zygons." He named a few more, ticking them off of his fingers. He kept going on, saying strange names faster and faster until I was pretty sure he'd switched to some other language.

I rolled my eyes. "Rambling!" I said loudly, jerking his swing's chain.

He started, finally pausing before giving me an apologetic glance. I grinned and lightly swung the chain of his swing.

"I think I understand," I said in a gentler tone. I retrieved my hand and began to swing my legs forward and back.

"Right," he said, blinking. "Sorry, I get a bit rambly."

"'Rambly' is not a word."

He smiled to himself. "I could invent that word." He started to swing a bit, lost in his idea. "I'm a great inventor, you know. I could go find the old manuscripts of the first dictionary-"

I interrupted. "A bit full of yourself, aren't you?"

He turned sharply at my voice and his hand shot out. He tapped my nose with his index finger and grinned at my shock. "Ah, ah. I believe it's my turn."

I rolled my eyes again. It was our agreement from when we first met; a question for a question. "Shoot, then."

He crossed his arms and frowned at me. "I rather don't like shooting, Miss Carter."

I lightly pushed his shoulder. "Slang, weirdo. It means, 'go on now and ask your question before the grass grows.'"

He uncrossed his arms. "Oh, if that's all, then…" His eyes began to gather that misty, faraway look when he thought of something particularly intriguing. "We could watch the grass grow, if we wanted. There's this planet with instantaneous super growth of plants when they're dug up or-"

"Doctor."

He broke out of his trance and waved a hand. "Right, right, my turn." He pointed to my beat up, black metal lunchbox with a wrinkled nose. "Why do you carry that thing around?"

I frowned and slowed my swinging. "My lunchbox?" I dropped my hand and plucked it from the ground, hugging it to my chest. "What've you got against my lunchbox?"

He gestured to it with a weird expression I can't explain. "I don't know what's in it. It could be an explosive for all I know, with a wire trickling out of the back and a trigger hidden in those coat pockets of yours."

For some reason, the thought of a trigger in my coat pocket made a laugh burst from my lips. The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as I erupted into fits of giggles.

"An explosive!" I giggled furiously. "Oh, God, that's good. I've never heard that one before. Doctor," I unlatched lid and showed him the inside. "It's my art kit!"

He leaned over and looked at the contents. Scraps of paper, pencil shavings, countless pencils, and a fat sketchbook sat in the bottom. I laughed at the Doctor's puzzled expression as he observed the non-explosives. And was that perhaps a hint of disappointment in his eyes?

"That's all?" He reached his hand in, brushing the surface of my sketchbook.

"Oi!" I yanked my lunchbox out of his reach. He hastily removed his hand before I slammed the lid shut. "Those are private. My eyes only."

He frowned. "Aren't best friends supposed to share?"

I shook my finger. "Oh no, it's my turn."

He huffed, sitting back and crossing his arms. I set my box on the floor and copied his motion.

After a few seconds of silence, I popped out with my question. "Where are you from, really?"

"Gallifrey."

When he said nothing else, I raised my eyebrows and motioned for him to continue. He sighed and shifted his weight, rocking the swing slightly.

"A long time ago, there was a planet called Gallifrey." When he turned to look at me, I saw his true age in his eyes, and the loneliness with it. "My home planet. Time Lords, my race." He smiled fondly as memories reeled through his head. "It's where I grew up, where this lovely Type-40 TARDIS was built."

I felt puzzlement decorate my features. "You say that like it's no longer there."

His smile dropped and he sighed. I felt a sense of dread gather in my stomach. "That's because it isn't. Now, I believe it's my turn."

I could only nod numbly. What the hell? What did he mean his planet was gone?

He motioned to my lunchbox. "You never really answered my question. Why do you carry that around?"

I shrugged, a small smile dancing at my lips. "In case a memory comes up."

He raised his eyebrows. I continued. "It's my mom's fault, really. When I was younger, my parents and I spent one summer out in a small rental place on the beach." I smiled in fondness of the memory. "When we came home, I was crying. My mom asked me why, and I told her it was because I was scared of forgetting. So she suggested that I draw my memories."

"Ah," The Doctor nodded. "I see. You draw so you won't forget." He leaned back in his swing and swung his legs a bit. "So why run away with a madman and his box?"

"My turn."

He shrugged. "Rule change."

I frowned. "That's cheating."

"My spaceship, my rules."

"I'd like to file a complaint, then."

He barely glanced up from messing with his screwdriver. "Your complaint has been overruled. Besides," His sonic zapped the sky, and the clouds parted so that the stars could be seen. His gaze turned to hold mine. "I get to ask a bonus question since you never really answered the other one in the first place. This way we're even."

I pouted. "You do know fairness doesn't really exist."

He crossed his arms. "My spaceship, Miss Carter."

I sighed and crossed my ankles. "I didn't run away with you, I just… left for a while."

"Yes, but why?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "Well, I mean, my dad's gone off to somewhere else so he can fight in some war, I was alone…"

His face remained unchanging. "And your mum?"

At that exact moment, everything stopped. There was a pounding in my ears, my hands became clammy, and my stomach was rolling.

Mom was a forbidden subject. Dad and I never talked about her, not since she disappeared. I hadn't talked to anyone about her. No one had even mentioned her until now.

Even though I was sure he saw my change in emotion, he didn't mention it. He just sat there and waited patiently for my answer.

I bit my lip, clenching and unclenching my fists. "She's gone," I finally muttered.

The Doctor's face fell; his entire posture changed. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, facing me with those sad brown eyes. "Maria…"

"Dad and I don't talk about it." I shrugged. "I've never really talked with anyone about it."

I felt something take hold of my hand. I glanced over and found that his hand was on mine. Not leaving my gaze, he gently pried my hand off of the chain and clutched onto it.

He squeezed it gently. "Miss Maria Carter, if it's one thing you're bound to know by now, it's that I'm a very good listener." He held my gaze, and I knew what he said was true.

I looked down at my shoes. "It's not important."

He let a small laugh escape his lips. "A thousand years of space travel, and I've never known anything not to be important." He squeezed my hand again. "It's important to me because it's important to you, and you're important to me."

I gave a watery smile, and he nodded encouragingly.

I sighed. "When I was twelve, my mom went on a trip to Europe for work. She told me she'd be back in a few weeks." I bit my lip, a bitter taste rising in my throat. "I waited. A few weeks turned into a few months, and then a few months turned into a few years. My dad never told me much about the investigation because he didn't want to talk about her. After she was declared missing, he basically… gave up hope. Tuned himself out. Drowned himself in work. I may as well have grown up without him."

I drew in a shaky breath. The Doctor wrapped both of his hands around mine and remained quiet.

I continued. "Sometimes, I like to think that maybe she's not gone forever. Maybe she's just lost, wandering around. Maybe her letters got lost in the mail because the postage was wrong."

I suddenly noticed how blurry everything had become, and reached up a hand to touch my face. My fingertips came back into focus, stained with salty tears.

I coughed out a small laugh. "Sorry," I gave a watery smile and reached up to rub away the tears. "Crying about all this is just silly."

I was a bit disappointed when he didn't say anything. I felt his hands leave mine, and my heart sank. You said you'd listen. I thought miserably as I rubbed my eyes. You said you would listen.

But then I felt his hands gently cradle my face, his fingers brushing against my temple. I finally opened my eyes and found his eyes staring right back at me, a mere few inches away.

He smiled gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Oh Maria," he whispered, his smile growing. "My Maria. Tears are wonderful things. Wonderful, wonderful, amazing things. So humany." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

I smiled as he tucked my dark hair behind my ears. He held my gaze locked in his as he asked another question, that cheater.

"Miss Carter, are you lonely?"

I shook my head. "My turn," I muttered.

He eyed me with all the seriousness in the world. "It's a very important question, Maria, and the answer is very important to me."

"So is mine, and it's my turn."

After a short staring contest, he sighed. "Shoot, then."

I laughed lightly and reached out to straighten his bowtie. I paused and observed the Doctor's face; his centuries-old eyes, his gentle expression, the hard determination.

"Doctor,"

He raised his eyebrows.

"Why me?"

He tilted his head. "You're special. You're my Maria." He answered simply.

I held his gaze. "But why did you ask me to travel with you?"

He shrugged and glanced away. "Been talking to myself a lot lately. Started to give myself earaches."

I pulled at his bowtie to get his attention back.

"You're lonely." It was a statement, not a question.

His eyes were downcast, and he almost looked defeated. "Yes, I would suppose so."

"I'm lonely, too," I blurted.

He looked up when I said that. He saw the small smile I was wearing, and when he started to smile as well, everything suddenly seemed hopeful again.

"We could be lonely together," he suggested, a grin forming on his face. I grinned and nodded, and then was quickly pulled into a hug by the Time Lord.

Traveling with this man wasn't just an intriguing experiment anymore. This man didn't deserve to be lonely. I don't know how he managed to travel on his own for so long, but it wasn't going to happen anymore.

He was lonely and looking for a friend. I was lonely and looking for a friend. And now, we can be not so lonely anymore. Now, we both have a friend.

He kissed my forehead and took my hands, pulling us both to our feet.

"I think it's time to pop the kettle on," he said, offering his arm to me.

I scooped up my lunchbox and looped my arm through his. "Why, thank you. And after that, where to, do you think?"

He gestured grandly to the star-filled sky with his free arm. "We're time-travelling best friends! We can go anywhere and any when, anytime and any day. I'm sure we'll think up something."

I grinned as we reached the doorway. "I'm sure we will."

"A new memory for the lunchbox," he said, walking out into the corridor. "A new adventure. Also, Miss Carter,"

I paused, and he pointed once more to my lunchbox. "Why a lunchbox?"

I rolled my eyes over-exaggeratedly. "Come on, Doctor, not everyone has bigger-on-the-inside coat pockets."

He nodded in understanding. "No, I suppose not."

"Can I have one?"

"What?"

"A coat with bigger pockets."

"Absolutely not."

"Please?"

"… We'll discuss it."

His weakening expression as he gave into my pleads was why I alternated between laughing out loud and fits of giggles as we left the room with the swings.

A/N: Ending's a bit corny… ah well. Anyway, please feel free to review! Also, this is really the only plot bunny I've been able to come up with lately… anyone got a request? I've got a list of things I like to write about on my profile. Please feel free to check it out and leave me a message! Summer is finally here and I'm so bored.