The sounds of the bustling marketplace were all-encompassing; shouts of traders trying to pull in buyers, the buyers haggling over prices, the squeals of children running around between the adults. The Doctor beamed as he took in a deep breath of the smell-packed air. The Time Lord could smell food being cooked, the fruits being sold just to his right, and the overwhelming smell of people, of life. Not the most pleasant of smells, he granted, but one to be treasured nonetheless. He plucked an apple from a stall and tossed the vendor a few coins that could probably pay for the bright fruit five times over.
He needed this, a chance to breathe freely and relax, to remind himself that the universe was not just endless conflict. Here he could get away from what had happened to Rose.
The Doctor continued to stroll through the sun-drenched food market and munched the apple as he went. As he looked around him, he couldn't help thinking that, no matter where or when he travelled, people were essentially the same.
As he neared another fruit and vegetable stall, he saw someone arguing good-naturedly with the stall's owner about the price of a basket of large tomatoes. This would not normally be anything to think about but, strangely, despite the TARDIS's translation circuits that had almost fully erased the accents he heard, this man's speech was very strongly Spanish and, more importantly, the last time the Doctor had seen this man had been (in this planet's linear timescale) three full centuries before he had set the TARDIS down in the little Spanish town.
Of course, it could be attributed to a genetic throwback or yet another joke of the universe, but the way this man held himself, the way he smiled and laughed were too similar to be coincidental. The merchant was paid and the oblivious object of the Doctor's scrutiny was making his way towards him.
"Antonio?"
"Si," he replied, turning to face the time traveller. "Why do you want to know, senor?" The TARDIS should have translated. He should not have been hearing Spanish.
"I last saw you three hundred years ago. A human should not look like not even a day has passed. Who or what are you?"
"Who are you? How do you say you know me?"
"It was a long time ago. I was a different man then. Perhaps you remember me; I am the Doctor." He looked at the usually cheerful man's sceptical face. "If not me, then maybe those giant lion-headed vultures we fought in the catacombs? No?"
The Spanish man looked at him warily and his body language closed off and became defensive. "I am sorry senor; I do not know what you are talking about. I must return home now." The longer Romano was left alone, the more likely it was that he would return to massive property damage. Or that the child would become bored and come looking for him which would probably end in one of his tackle hug/attacks.
"Spaaiiiiiiin, you jerk!"
Speak of the devil.
A tiny pink and white cannonball collided with Spain's chest, knocking the air out of him in one gust. The basket he was holding went flying, only to be caught smoothly by the eavesdropping Time Lord with not a single tomato dropped.
"Spain?"
"Not here," he wheezed before picking his charge up off his midriff and sitting up. "Roma, what have I told you about leaving the house without me?"
"But I checked, and the French bastard wasn't anywhere near!" he pouted, "And I was bored and hungry!"
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
They returned to Spain's house, the Doctor tagging along behind. Romano snatched from the basket a tomato almost as big as his head, and chewed on it while glaring at the man who had taken Spain's attention away from its rightful recipient. Between bites, he muttered insults at him, creating a background hum that managed to offset somewhat the awkward silence between the two adults. After the three had reached Spain's house, Romano was reminded that he 'had cleaning to do' to get the younger nation out of the way.
"So," the Doctor asked, "What are you? You haven't changed in three hundred years."
"You say you are the Doctor, and know about what happened that day, something I have shared with no-one, but your face is not his. I am not the only one who has things to explain." His energy had the same feel as the man with a different face had given off. He had gone searching for the odd feeling he had sensed and had encountered a strange man in strange clothes fighting strange beasts in the catacombs below one of his cities.
"I asked first!" he had fallen into one of his childish moods, something his current incarnation seemed particularly prone to. Spain agreed to explain himself first, but only if the visitor told his secret in return.
"I am the physical representation of the country of Spain. The child is Italy Romano, the South of the country. His brother, Italy Veneziano, is currently at Austria's house. He really has livened up the place since he arrived!" Spain smiled and then explained that no-one knew how the representations formed, but there was one for each physical country. "Now, tell me your story."
He kept the details as vague and fuzzy as he could while he explained about his own life, his habits of travelling in time and interfering while he saved as many lives as was possible and a vague mention of regeneration and the results.
"So you… can travel in time?"
"Anywhere, anywhen. If you like, I can prove it to you! Fancy going for a spin?"
Their conversation was interrupted by a loud crash from above.
"Romano!" Spain leapt up from his seat and ran without slowing to the smaller country's aid. "Romano," he panted, chest burning, "Are you alright?"
The scene was one of disastrous mess. It was like something out of a comedy sketch: somehow Romano had knocked over a bookshelf and, as the concerned adult country stood in the doorway, panting from the exertion, a small white-covered head popped up and started cursing with a fluency and vigour that no child of his apparent age should possess.
"I don't know how, but it was your fault!" he glared at Spain, but he was just too cute to be taken seriously and no harm had been done.
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
The Doctor enjoyed drinks and snacks with Spain while Romano, fully recovered from the experience, devoured some tomatoes. He shared some of the more amusing stories of his travels and Spain expressed his disbelief of the TARDIS's internal dimensions.
From what the Doctor could remember, he hadn't parked her too far away from there. He stood up and offered to prove it. (Well, after his indignant, hard-done-by Time Lord act had finished, he did)
The evening had lost much of the day's earlier heat and the lack of clouds promised a stunningly clear night sky. The small group had not been walking through the dusty streets for long before they came upon the little niche where the Doctor had parked his impossible blue box. He took the small key out of his pocket and fitted it carefully into the lock. He turned it, then held the door open in a grand gesture and waited for the response. He was not disappointed.
"¡Cáspita!" He backed out of the door and took a brief tour around the outside. "It really is bigger on the inside!"
"Want to come with me on a trip? I could have you back five minutes ago!"
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
Spain had had to refuse; he had many responsibilities and, in his stories, his control over the machine had not always been strong. He could not stay away from his country for long without some bad effects on his health, and who knew what time travel could do to a country?
They parted and Spain watched as the box slowly faded in and out of his reality, committing the groaning wheeze of the engines to memory. If he heard that sound again, he would be running to aid the strange man.
For now, though, he went home, carrying the small figure of a sleeping Romano. He looked up to the stars and hoped that somewhere, somewhen, the Time Lord would find someone to take the loneliness out of those ancient eyes.
