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The room was almost empty, save for an easel, a sheet of paper which had been carefully clipped on, and a few drop clothes scattered on the TARDIS floor. The strains of guitar music filled the air; Don McLean's 'Vincent' appropriately enough. Robyn sang to herself softly as she stared at the paper. She couldn't understand it, why the music, this song in particular, had compelled her so. She'd met the artist, walked by his side, hugged him. There wasn't the sense of distance that you felt when you spoke of someone you'd never met, and could never meet, because they'd left the land of the living long before your own existence.

And she couldn't figure out why she wanted to draw, or to paint, but she'd given in to the impulse, and asked the TARDIS for somewhere she could do such things without making too much of a mess. She loved, and respected, the time ship too much to let anything touch her that couldn't be easily fixed. And, to her astonishment, the TARDIS had complied.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked behind her.

Robyn turned, looked up, and then smiled at the newcomer. "Hi, Dad," she said.

The Doctor smiled back at her, leaning against the doorframe. He looked around the room. "Haven't seen this place in a while," he mused. "The TARDIS must've kept it somewhere at the back until she thought someone might want it."

"I wanted it. I wanted to draw, and to paint," Robyn replied. She shook her head. "Don't know why... it just felt right."

"Now, that," said the Doctor, sauntering into the room, "is probably Vincent's influence. You've been inspired."

"Why?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Who knows," he replied. "Except you. Think about it."

And she did. She thought long and hard about why she wanted to paint... and found she couldn't. She couldn't think of a single reason... she couldn't think of a single reason to draw, or to paint, that is. But she could see how the TARDIS may have engineered having this room brought out of storage. "I don't want to paint..." she murmured. "I mean, I did, but now..."

The Doctor looked at his daughter in confusion. "What do you want, then?"

"To talk to you."

"Ah." The Doctor rocked back and forth on his heels. "Well, that's something else. Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

She nodded. "I think the TARDIS gave me this room so we could talk. In private."

The Doctor scratched his chin. She had a point there. The TARDIS could've told Robyn about this room while she slept, but kept that same information from Amy, so that the two of them could speak freely, and without any awkwardness regarding Rory. "And I promised I'd tell you everything."

"Twice, and I didn't even have to ask you to promise the second time."

"So I did." He sat on the floor, and beckoned to Robyn, motioning for her to sit in his lap. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

The Doctor laughed. "Okay, so what do you want to know first?"

"Tell me about Gallifrey, Dad."

"All right."

The End

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