Chapter Seven: Homecoming

The kitchen was more or less the same as it was… or as it will be. The only significant difference was that the wall that had been… would be… burgundy was currently a dusty blue.

"Sandwiches and chips. How's that sound?"

It sounded pretty good to me. The Doctor made the fries and tea while I worked on the sandwiches, turkey and cheese for me, peanut butter and banana for him ("Banana's are good, Monet!"). We split the fries and sat to eat in the same spots we sat in when the older Doctor made me tea. I chewed on my sandwich and listened to the Doctor have a mostly one sided conversation with himself about aliens made of fats and how it was against the Shadow Proclamation ("Space police") while I occasionally chipped in to ask a question, which he happily answered in length. The Doctor seemed thrilled to have someone to talk to, like he was trying to get in a word count while there was someone there to listen. I wondered if he was lonely. The future Doctor had had Amy and Rory, but this one had shown up alone. Even though I didn't know him all that well yet, I could tell that he was attention starved. I felt a pang of concern and pity. He didn't deserve to be alone.

Suddenly the Doctor stood and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Alright then, nighty-night. Sleep well. The TARDIS should wake you when we need to get going. She's rather good with time, for some reason". He grinned and walked out, leaving me slightly confused.

My first thought was that he had remembered something that he needed to do, but I couldn't help but wonder if he had sensed my train of thought, my sudden concern for his solitude. I shook the feeling off. Probably not, he was just a bit restless. My next concern was where I was supposed to sleep. I assumed I had a bedroom somewhere, but I hadn't found it yet. I put up my plate and felt a tug at my mind. It was the TARDIS again. She knew where it was and was more than happy to show me.

So I wandered the halls with no real destination in mind, letting the TARDIS guide me with urges to go a certain way and turn down certain corridors. Then I found it, a wooden door with my name neatly printed in a loopy gold font on the dark wood. I smiled, mentally thanked her, and pushed my way in.

My room was very, well, me. The walls were lilac, lined with white moulding. There was a dark blue couch facing a television, a short coffee table in between. Just beyond that was the doorway to a decent sized bathroom with periwinkle walls. The main room extended to a small table with three chairs and a small kitchen, which made sense because the main, giant kitchen was only a short walk away. But mine had a coffee maker and an arrangement of snacks. The bed was behind a sliding door behind the couch, making it a separate room from the rest of the apartment. It looked fairly lived in, as indicated by the Star Wars mug sitting on the coffee table, half filled with the remnants of some tea a future me must've made but forgotten about, and the odd water bottle and clothing article that hadn't been put away.

I spent a few moments cleaning up after my future self before examining the closet. There was a large assortment of clothes inside. I picked out a pair of pajamas that I had never seen before. Well, they were mine, or will be mine. I aimed for the bathroom to take a shower. There were obvious signs of me in there too. The soap I liked and the shampoo I used were waiting, as was a toothbrush that looked a lot like the one I had back at home.

Half an hour later, I curled up in bed and went to sleep, noting that the clock beside the bed had both a setting for 'Time Slept' and "Orient Local Time'.