004. Dance
Rose/Nine
They danced once – other than the first time that is.
She remembered being swathed in a white nightgown with mismatched socks – not quite an angel, nothing ethereal or particularly beautiful with bed matted hair sticking this way and that. Outside the TARDIS storms raged through time and space, and the low howls and moans kept her from sleeping.
Him as well, it seems, for he joined her a moment later – lightly smiling and wonderful.
He surprised her by saying, "Do you ever think of that time?"
"Which time?" Because there are so many to choose from.
He merely held out a hand, "Do you want to dance?"
She's thought about that time many times, but she doesn't say so. His fingers were tangling with hers, and even without music she was close enough to hear the twin rhythm of his hearts. It was enough.
The soft glow in his eyes made her feel beautiful, and she fought the urge to blush. She's been kissed by a total of four men in her life – children she hardly remembers now, and Mickey more times then she can count. And in a funny moment she thinks that if she were a fairytale princess, none of those would have woken her up.
Now, years later, in a whole universe away, she sits on the edge of her bed. Her faith in tales are dashed, and she doesn't know how long she will slumber this time. Waiting . . .
And she can only think how much she'd like to dance again.