A companion for my fic 'Sharp' although it can work as a stand alone. I seem to be on a roll at the moment so if anyone has any prompts they'd like me to have a go at please let me have them!
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Cold, hard logic.
He always means to regard his companions with cold, hard logic, in keeping with the decorum expected of a Time Lord. At first it had been easy to do so; the teachers he had travelled with had seemed so primitive, so… beneath him that it had been simple to keep his distance. But over time they had proved their worth, and he had surprised himself with how much he cared when they finally left him.
And now…
Well now, two regenerations later, he cannot really deceive himself any longer of the feelings he has towards these humans. There is nothing cold in his respect for the Brigadier, however begrudgingly it is bestowed; nothing hard about the comradeship he enjoys with a select few of the men, nothing logical about his paternal affection for the females he works with, nor indeed their affection for him either, he thinks. He misses them, his Liz and his Jo, though they were never really his to begin with.
And this latest addition, this journalist who brazenly stowed away in his TARDIS, who refused to make him coffee, who squares up to him as though they are equals; there is certainly nothing cold or hard or logical about the way he feels about her. As they race into the TARDIS, their enemies in hot pursuit, they regard each other across the console. He takes in her flushed cheeks, the fast rise and fall of her chest and her eyes, alive with life and adventure; For the first time, the Doctor admits to himself, he'd rather like to keep this one.
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I hope it works - let me know!