AN: I know I should be working on my challenge series, but while I was working on the next in the list, I got this in my head, and I couldn't get it out, so enjoy. There will be 55 total things, but maybe not chapters.
I OWN NOTHING. NOT DOCTOR WHO, NOT ANYTHING. NO SONGS NEITHER!
She loves her job (even if he doesn't):
He understood why she was an archaeologist. Knew it was his fault, and that she had gotten hooked.
But he didn't have to like it.
To him, archaeology was just a bunch of made up stories. Just because something was found somewhere, didn't mean it belonged there. More than likel it fell out of his pocket. Or that of a time agent/traveler. Or the odd Time Lord.
She at least knew that, and therefor was able to distinguish between artifacts and accidents. Much better than her peers. And she taught her team that as well. And her students. And was making headway with her peers.
She was always calling him up on the psychic, and when he turned up frantically trying to figure out what was wrong, why she'd said emergency, she'd just chuckle, kiss his cheek, and tell him that she needed to get to a dig. Or needed an escort to an exhibit opening. Or she didn't feel like using the manipulator to get to class. He'd roll his eyes fondly, kiss her quickly, or tap her on the nose, and do her bidding.
And then there were the times when he'd show up to a dig, hoping to surprise her, and she'd be working, completely absorbed in whatever she was doing, slightly sunburned, and ignoring the people who tried to get her to stop. As a Time Lord, she had a superior biology and didn't need all the breaks that they took. However, they'd beg him to get her to take a break, and he would.
She made sure she never missed a single class, and her students adored her.
She was the best, and most dedicated archaeologist out there. He knew it. She knew it. Her colleagues and students knew it. Her family knew it. Everyone knew it. She was the best because she loved what she did.
He gat the privilege of seeing her light up when she found something buried or lost long ago. To see the way her eyes shone with happiness when he gave her artifacts, or books, or took her to see a long lost civilization. So of course he never complained about being used as a taxi service, or spending countless hours squatting beside her in the dirt, or the endless parades of museums and exhibit openings. He happily snuck into her classes to watch her teach and helped her carefully break into ancient temples and research papers.
He may hate archaeology with a passion, but he loved his archaeologist.
AN: Hope you don't hate it. I love you all! And as always: Talk to me, critique me, ask me questions, I shall always reply, when I can. -RebelUp. -your friendly neighborhood renegade.