The Accidental Sighting

As soon as they had taken off, again he had disappeared. Amy pulls back the hood and exchanges looks with Rory. Depression and sadness continue to cling to the air of the interior of the TARDIS.

Even the blue lighting that Amy thought had once been so warm and comforting to her whenever she entered suddenly seemed foreign, cold and distant. The sighting of her, if even by accident, drove him back to his feelings of losing her.

Amy has many thoughts going through her mind as she struggles with the inner conflict of trying to find him in the depths of his TARDIS, or remaining put. Staying out of his business and in a few hours he'd come bounding back into the console room, shouting for them to join him.

Another soulful look from Rory tells Amy that maybe she should give him time. For once, Amy agreed. Surely all would be well again, he would recover from this minor setback. He would be back to his jovial self in no time.

While the thoughts do not stop swirling and assaulting Amy, she nonetheless takes Rory's hand and leads him up the stairs into the corridors.

The sadness emanates off the walls and the eerie stillness doesn't sit well with her. There is no humming, Amy has come to associate that with the TARDIS attempting to offer a listening ear to the Doctor, or trying to comfort him. At this moment in time, Amy decides that it is both.

When Rory opens the door to their shared quarters, Amy is struck at how the warmth of the room and the lives they share has been confined to this solitary room. It has been hours, and still no booming voice telling them to join him…this is more serious.

Rory doesn't believe her when she announces she's going to the kitchen. No, he knows her better. Investigation. That's what she's doing. He's her family, and he's been left alone for long enough.

The winding and twisting corridors are all starting to look similar. The dimly lit corridors offer no reprieve, and so she takes a break at the next junction. Footsteps echo around her and she presses herself against the one wall. The Doctor strides by her from the next corridor, taking no notice that she is there in the opposite one. Amy carefully walks to the end of the wall and watches as the Doctor rounds the next corner. Instead of following him, she goes the opposite way. It doesn't take her long to spot the Doctor's room and beside his door…another that Amy had never seen before. Yet it seems familiar, the door is the same type as the one she has. But there is a beautifully ornate circle carved into it.

Intrigued, Amy treads carefully through this unfamiliar territory and turns the doorknob. Amy covers her mouth at the richly decorated bedroom. It's full of alien trinkets and wares. A pink comforter on the bed…there is no need for identification. This was her room. There is an indent on the comforter; he sat here…only moments ago. Allowing himself to be lost in his memories of her.

Amy turns around and notices the vast collection of pictures. They are pinned in a massive cluster on her wall, next to the dresser. There are a number of pictures framed. Fascinated, Amy ventures closer and notices that one has been flipped down. Gingerly, she picks it up and covers her mouth at the framed picture there.

It's the man in the brown coat, smiling, without a care in the world. Linking arms with him is Rose. She isn't facing the camera; she's kissing his cheek. Amy sets the picture back on the dresser, but sets it up so that it's facing the room. He is so insistent that love hurts him, but it's simply not true. It's the loneliness that hurts. Losing Rose hurts. He's gradually starting to confuse those feelings with love but the reality, love is the only thing in this world that covers up all his pain and makes him feel wonderful again. When two people are meant for each other, no time is too long, no distance is too far, and no one can ever tear them apart. He'll just have to remember all that.

It Will Always Be You

'You know…I think meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you, was far beyond my control.' Rose whispers to him as he gently sank down beside her. She pushed her now damp hair from her face and he placed his hand on her cheek, rubbing it with his thumb.

He's so glad she wasn't scared away when she saw what a mess he'd become, a shell of his former self. Because where else had he felt safe but in her arms? The incident on Mars is now a part of his past, much like she is. But right now…he's forgotten all of that. Content right now in her embrace. He turns to her and smiles.

'You've captured my hearts, Rose. Utterly, completely and unexpectedly.'

Rose smiles, resting her head on his chest and yet her thoughts turn dark. Their time is slowly ebbing away. Bound by time…the victim of it. She can change nothing. A storm is coming.

Cigarettes and Vanilla

Even though the air is heavy with the smell of smoke, he's added to it by blowing another large exhale, somehow, the vanilla scent he's come to associate with her manages to cut through and mingle just as heavily.

Rubbing the cigarette out in the marble ashtray he digs into the front pocket of the soldier's shirt and takes out another one. He taps it lightly on the mahogany desk and places it in his mouth. Before he reaches for the gold lighter, still lying on the desk, he turns his attention to the young lady sitting on the plush leather loveseat. Engrossed in a book that he'd only recommended to her days ago. And yet she's completed half of it. The softness of the lights cast her face in subtle shadows, making her features difficult to make out.

A soft smile breaks out on his face. He strokes his greying beard in thought as he contemplates their habit that they seemed to have formed. The rest of his family would get themselves ready for bed, while he would remain awake for a few more hours. Usually he would catch Rose wandering the halls, a book clutched to her chest as she looked for a comfortable spot to wind down from the day.

That's all it took, a single invite and their habit; their routine had been cemented. At the end of the night, together they would walk into his study and a peaceful silence would descend.

Rose looked up and smiled at him, and he returns her gesture.

He picks up and turns the lighter in his hand, and lights up, bring the open flame to his cigarette. He inhales deeply and exhales slowly, the cloud of smoke momentarily shrouding his features before dispersing into the open room.

Flicking the ash into the ashtray, the wafting scent of vanilla surrounds him and he looks back to Rose, who is standing at the mouth of the door.

'Night, Nicholas…'

'Goodnight Rose.'

The vanilla aroma lingers for some time after she's gone.

The Coffee Incident

How is it possible that she's late? Oh her third day?! Jenny knocked on her door three times apparently. And it hadn't roused her. What's wrong with her? Apparently the lack of sleep since their arrival has apparently decided to catch up with her. What a week it's been already.

Rose rushes to the kitchens, hiking the maid's dress higher to ensure she doesn't trip; it hasn't been hemmed for her height yet. She spots Jenny prepping two trays and feels relief emanate off of her.

'Rose, you're late!' Jenny scolds when she rushes in to the kitchens. Jenny forcibly hands Rose a sliver tray that's laden with various dishes. 'You're keeping him waiting, if you don't hurry, you'll make him late!'

'I know, I'm sorry!' Rose places the silverware on the tray and turns around to head out the door.

'We're on kitchen duty today!' Jenny calls after her and Rose turns her head around, nodding quickly.

Climbing the stairs has become difficult, if she isn't careful, she'll catch the hem of her dress and trip. She very nearly does and she manages to catch herself, rattles the china and holds her breath, exhaling slowly. That was close, Rose looks over the banister and watches the staff run about.

She's cleared the stairs and walks down the halls into the teachers' quarters and comes face to face with the door at the end of the hall. Immediately her stomach tightens into a knot and she begins to feel sick and nervous. Apprehension and uneasiness take a strong grip and she slowly paces herself until she's standing just outside the oak doors.

It's been nearly a five days; still the adjustment is not going well. He's so different now…Rose balances the tray on her hip and softly knocks. It's been hard for her to knock before entering…she's usually tempted to just walk right in. After all, he never stopped her before all this.

There's nothing but silence from the other side, and even though he hasn't granted her permission, Rose slowly opens the door, shutting it behind her. It's quiet in the room, curtains are drawn, but a crack of light peeks through and Rose scans the room quickly.

Finally she spots him, asleep at his desk. Grinning slightly, she sets the tray down on a side table and strides towards the curtains. Rose yanks them open and sunlight streams through.

'Rise and shine, Mr. Smith!' Rose calls and he shoots up from the desk. He turns to Rose, blinking the surprise and sleep from his eyes.

'Rose! I…um…sorry! I must have fallen asleep…' He watches as she glides across the floor towards the silver tray she had left on an end table. She picks up a cup and smiles as she walks towards him.

'I have the cure for that, a nice hot cup of coffee!' As she approaches him, the worst happens. She trips on her dress hem and watches in horror as she lands on her knees and the coffee is dumped all over him. He jumps up and staggers back. Rose is on her feet and rushing to get towels.

Rose leans against the door to his room and stares at the hall. Her face is beet red, she's taking deep breaths and she holds in her hands a few towels that will need to be laundered. She's shaking from embarrassment. She doesn't think she's uttered that many apologies in her entire life, her eyes brimmed with tears.

Rose runs for the stairs that will take her to the kitchens. She doesn't hear the door to his room open as he stares at the vacant halls, wondering where she could have gotten.

OTMA

The sound of girlish giggling and shuffling draws Rose from her thoughts. She turns behind her to stare at the door. A slip of paper is forcibly shoved underneath the door. Intrigued Rose rises from the chair and bends down to the floor. There is folded piece of paper and Rose opens it.

The script is sprawling and yet delicate, and thin. It brings a smile to Rose's face as she reads the letter. They are so funny, these girls. It seems the more she reads, the she realises that each of the girls has contributed to this letter. There is Olga and Tatiana's neat and tidied handwriting as is flowers out onto the page. Maria is next, as always, her writing is a bit thicker and her portion brings tears to Rose's eyes. She has to cover her mouth as Anastasia's portion is read next. There is no organisation in Anastasia's writing. Her thoughts are chaotic but sincere. And they even get a few laughs from Rose as well.

Once the letter has been thoroughly read, for the third time, Rose stands from the chair and over to the little drawer located on the vanity. She opens it and before she sets it in, she reads the very last line. With that encouragement, maybe she'd be okay here on her own.

With love to you, Rose,

OTMA

Tin Trucks

'Alexey, what are you sulking for?'

The young boy slowly raises his head and sighs, resting his cheek on his hand. Spread around him is small tin trucks, there are many small nicks in the tin, and some of the axels are slightly warped indicating they are well worn and loved. His room looks rather drab. Rose goes towards his window and opens the curtains more.

That does nothing to cheer him up and so she gathers her skirt and lowers herself down to the ground, across from him.

'No one will play with me.' Alexey replies, defeated. He reaches down and places his index finger on one of the truck's roofs, pushing it back and forth in a depressed manner.

He's been cooped up in his room for several days with another bout of haemophilia. Thankfully, it hadn't lasted long and Dr. Botkin was able to get it under control. But Rose can clearly see the boredom etched in his features now that he's able to move around. All he wants to do is be a kid, and it's cruelly denied of him most of the time, any potential fun is marred by his hovering mother's interference.

'Well, why don't we make up stories for them?' Rose suggests and she smiles.

'Yeah! Okay!' Alexey agree and immediately gets onto his stomach, shuffling until he finds himself comfortable enough.

The sun has begun to slowly descend and they've been playing for hours. Delight is written all over Alexey's face and he roars with laughter. Dr. Botkin, drawn by the sound of laughter, carefully approaches the Tsarevich's room. His warm smile at the scene will be forever imprinted into his mind. He rushes back to his quarters and digs through his desk draws until he finds the object he's been looking for.

He positions himself in the hallway at an angle; he aims his Heag camera and waits for magic to happen. He doesn't have to wait long as Alexey erupts with laughter and has a wide smile on his face. Rose is pointing to one of his trucks as she curls her legs closer.

A bright flash and a moment has been captured in time.

That Black Dress

That slinky black dress…it clings to her curves…so well. He just stares dumbly at her as she glides across the floor towards him. He can feel time slow as she approaches him, his hands still gripping the tie ends. He takes note of the way her hips sway as she continues towards him, the low front, which he should stop looking at because it's rude. The way her curled hair looks like spun gold illuminated like sunlight. Where are these thoughts coming from? Is this because of the dress she's wearing? It's causing him to be unable to form coherent thoughts. Who knew that dress was concealing itself in the Wardrobe Room? And that she found it for this party Martha invited them to.

He drops his hands, which feel like lead weights, to his sides as she carefully takes the tie ends in her hands and he holds his breath. She smells wonderful, like vanilla. Her hands move in a fluid motion as she works her magic. Rose smiles warmly and straightens it for him.

Maybe he needs to think of another place they can go together so he can see that dress on her again. It compliments her so well and the image of her in that dress will be forever burned in his memory.

The Slip of Paper

'Are they asleep?' There is a quiet humming and he looks over his shoulder. The halls are silent and he can't hear any footsteps echoing around him. The TARDIS only confirmed his suspicions. 'I can't get her out of my head. I need to see her again. Does that make me selfish?' He smiles slightly as the TARDIS disagrees with the last half of his statement.

The Doctor reaches the console room and instinctively looks over his shoulder. He doesn't want to be caught doing this, least of all by Amy. He doesn't want to have to explain himself nor his actions to her. Truthfully he just wants to do this on his own, for his own selfish reasons. He'd give anything, everything, just to see her smile. Her beautiful eyes, her warm nature, her love of him. He could go on and on, but the TARDIS has indicated that she's landed.

He takes a deep breath and after a peek over his shoulder, he opens the TARDIS door and is greeted with warm sunlight. Tobolsk in the spring is nice. Warm air, it's rather calming. There is a fragrant smell of flowers in the air and he smiles slightly.

He's landed the TARDIS a few feet away from the Governor's Mansion on Mira Street, and he shields his eyes from the sunlight as he attempts to study the house. Constructed in the classicism style, two stories and a fenced in yard. Now, if he remembered correctly from her stories, she'd be walking around, he quickly checks his watch, now.

He quickens his pace as he approaches the main gate and looks around before strolling right in. Odd, there's no guards, ah that's because they're patrolling the grounds. A quick flash of the Psychic Paper and they allow him to wander the grounds. An undercover Cheka guard from Moscow? Where does he come up with these lies? A slight grin crosses his features as he attempts to look for her. Another check of his watch, she should be here. And that's when he hears her familiar laugh, not wanting to be caught, he quickly dashes behind a beautiful Rowan tree.

He spots her as she strolls down the interlocking brick path with another recognisable figure, the Doctor can't help but smile warmly at who she's with. He has her arm linked tightly with his own.

'And how did you find it?' Nicholas inquires.

'Overwhelming.' Rose replies. The Doctor wonders what they could possibly be talking about.

'In what way?'

'There are so many themes going on, but they all emerge so naturally.'

'It is a long read, but well worth it. A true novel, as he was often quoted as saying.' Nicholas agrees and Rose turns her attention to the warm sunlight. A bird chirping draws her attention to the flowering Rowan tree; something is concealing itself there. She hopes it's not one of the guards spying on them again.

'No one may build their happiness on another's pain.' Rose recalls and he nods.

'Excellent observation. What do you think of the connections being drawn from Tolstoy's real life and the ones in the book?'

'I confess I don't know much about Leon Tolstoy.' Rose admitted and as Nicholas pondered that she looks back to the Rowan tree. It abruptly hits her and she turns back to Nicholas, a sad smile graces her features. He can never stay away for long.

Nicholas sits with her on a bench and together they resume talking about Anna Karenina. He eyes her suspiciously as he hands her a scrap piece of paper and a pen. She scribbles something down and merely explains it's a thought she had. A connection, a new theme that she wants to go back and confirm in the book. Since he hasn't witnessed what she's written, Nicholas nods.

There they go…back into that house…it'd be so long since he'd be able to find her. How, in his past, he craves her. How desperate he's becoming the longer they're separated. And now she's gone from his sight…that man in the brown coat is running out of time to be with her.

'Excuse me, sir?' He jumps slightly as a uniformed guard taps him lightly on the shoulder.

'Yes?' The Doctor gets out; rather surprised he didn't hear him approaching.

'This is for you.' The guard holds out his hand, something is clutched in it. The Doctor takes it off of him and watches the guard walks away, before he can even ask what this is.

He unfurls the paper and reads the three simply words, scrawled in a hurry, on a yellowing piece of paper. He swallows a lump in his throat and heads to the TARDIS. He pauses at the door and turns towards the house before stealing another look at the scrap piece of paper and her words to him.

Hello, my love.

She always knew. Somehow, she just did.

Hello!

So in order to break away from the series a bit again I attempted my hand at a few vignettes and drabbles. I've never done this before and I know some of the stories go over the word limit. A few stories are from my other story, Maybe She Knew. Many of them are from this series.

I hope I made them clear enough in terms of what's going on, I wasn't sure if they were supposed to have titles, but I gave them titles anyway. If you guys like it, I'll try doing this again before I wrap this series up. Many of the ideas I was going to use, I couldn't because I wanted to keep them for the very end.

Anyway I hope you all like this little break and I'll start on the next chapter soon.