The Waltz
Darillium, near the Andromeda Galaxy 5347 Day 1879
He takes my hand in his and walks me around the console, it's an empty room, just the two of us dancing slowly around the levers and switches. The light dimmed slightly as the TARDIS responds to our waltz, we're one in the same I should've recognised her voice. I relax in the Doctor's gaze, his strong grip holding me up, otherwise I'm sure I would've fallen. His eyes are old, and deep, his hands, warn and a little wrinkly, I don't mind, I'd decided. I like his hands, they're war-torn, his previous ones had been too young, not like him, too soft, like a little boy. I'm not exactly young myself, but at least now we look like we fit, like we belong. To other people at least. We always knew we belonged, it's a feeling. It's just now he doesn't insist on carrying around the body of a twelve-year-old.
His long fingers wrap around my waist, twirling me around like a ballerina. There is new music floating through the control room, it swirls around us, probably the TARDIS herself complimenting our dance. I smile, then smile, my sly, girlish giggle that had him falling in love with me all over again. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" He acts like he's fine, he shrugs, raises one bushy eyebrow and looks away from me. He looks down, towards the floor, past my feet, and his. I know he's nervous, I can sense it.
It's odd to me now, that we spend so much time together, in the past it had been brief affiliations and adventures. We've never settled down before, not that I'm complaining, now I have him to myself. I finally have the time to notice all the other of his funny quirks, his little obsessions and pastimes; the way he walks and the way he smiles with his eyes had always been things I'd known about him. But now I know that he never sleeps enough and likes the covers thick, that he eats cereal for breakfast and likes to wear his bow tie sometimes for the old days, in fact I'm now convinced a few of his little quirks are just for me.
"Nothing, I'm fine." His eyes lie. His bright eyes, brimming with life, lied to me. I bore into him, a deep stare, letting my eyes push for the answer. I lift his chin lightly and stroke my hand down his cold cheek, his lined face. His skin is so thin nowadays, but my touch is gentle, fine, well placed. He feels my comfort, my longing to comfort. He's holding me in his arms, where he feels the most safe. He sighs, a deep sort of sigh, but a sigh of pleasure. I'm confused, I'd thought he was nervous, but he looks contented now, even excited perhaps.
"Darling, what is it?" He hesitates, waiting for me to finish. "And don't lie to me this time." He shakes his head knowingly. The he smiles, his smile that can break me into a million solid pieces.
"I just think you're a fantastic dancer, and woman. And I asked you to marry me again, but you've already agreed to that once so I won't push it." He says to me, looking down, I kiss him because I can and he sighs in relief that he hasn't upset me.