Disclaimer: Me no owney. Doctor Who and its character, themes and ideas belong solely to the Beeb. Unfortunately.
A/N: This is my third story to be posted here (yay me!) and reviews would be like a drinking fountain to someone stranded in the desert.
This is just a short little story that popped into my head while I was supposed to be doing my First World War history project :)
"If you look close enough, you can see it. There."
"There? There what? What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"Just look."
"Doctor, this is boring! Can't we do something interesting? What about that planet you were telling me about yesterday, the one with the city made completely out of gold?"
"Amy, this is important. This could be my last chance to see one of these before it dies out."
"Your last chance? Don't you mean our last chance?"
The Doctor glanced over at her, then back up at the skies, shielding his eyes with his hand. "I used to see these all the time, back when I was a boy. They don't really do much; they just sort of . . . fly."
She laughed. "And what's so unusual about a flying bird?"
"It's not a bird," he corrected testily. "It's an insect. It's called a Flutterwing. And this is the last living one."
She squinted against the harsh light. "Looks a bit big to be an insect."
The Doctor shrugged. "Probably about three by twenty, twenty-five metres."
Amy looked alarmed at the size of the flying insect.
"Don't worry," he smiled. "They never actually land."
"Never?"
He shook his head. "Never," he promised, slipping his hand into hers. "Now come on, we've got golden cities to see."