AN: My first Doctor Who fic. Post Doomsday. Just waiting to see what the reviews are like. I don't know whether to carry it on or not. You decide that. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own anything.
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Rose.
How could he forget her? She was utterly fantastic in every way, shape and form.
And that day he burnt up a sun just to say good bye. That day she spoke those words that melted his hearts and made him tearful. He would never forget that.
He remembered the first time they met. The Living Plastic were going to attack, to kill her. He saw her, just a glimpse as her rushed by and had his own attack. An attack of conscience. He couldn't just leave her there, her face full of fear. So he made the decision and grasped her hand.
"Run!"And she did.
That was that. Apart from a few questions and a bit of persuasion, she ran through the TARDIS doors and left her life in his. It was the beginning to a fantastic friendship.
Two years had passed since they said they're goodbye.
And now, well, now he couldn't even visit her, see her or even grasp her hand in times of trouble. He mourned his loss and did the same old thing, he travelled, alone, in his TARDIS. The last Time Lord.
He thought as he wondered around the control panel of the TARDIS, letting his hand stroke the many knobs, levers and buttons that he had gotten used to. She was on course, whirring quietly as time and space flew by outside.
All those planets, all the stars. They were nothing without having someone with him. No one to tell the history, no one to surprise with the culture, the architecture or the aliens. It was lonely. He was lonely. And only admitted it to himself. It was his biggest secret.
There was one person though, who knew this secret. A woman, back in the eighteenth century. It was only be accident that she found out.
Suddenly, the TARDIS shook. She was going off course. Drawn away from thought, The Doctor frantically pushed buttons and drew levers. But he couldn't stop it. He reached for his mallet that he had used many times before and bashed the control deck. It didn't help. She was hurtling through time and space and there was nothing he could do to control it.
"Where are we going?" He asked hurriedly, looking up at the tall column where the time vortex was moving, whilst hanging on with all his might to the handrail.
Then, it was calm. She had landed. But when and where, The Doctor didn't know. He anxiously glanced at the TARDIS doors.
"Where are we?" he asked himself, unsure whether to go and investigate like he and Rose did.
He walked slowly around the control panel, never taking his eyes off the doors. Wondering what is out there. He ran his hand through his brown hair. The temptation was killing him. The temptation to go and see where they had landed. The TARDIS came here, by herself, no co-ordinates, no telepathy and not by accident. She meant for him to find out, to see, to visit. He walked down the ramp and opened the door a little. Just to have a peek.
He was in a building. A grandly decorated room, with panels and sculpted wood. Like a state home, or a palace. He stepped out, his Converse on the tiled floor, and closed the door behind him.
It was then he heard footsteps, coming towards the room. They got louder as they got closer, but they sounded delicate, light, a pair of small feet. He turned as a lady entered the room. He recognised her instantly.
"Doctor?"
"Reinette?"
