A/N: I miss Nine. And Rose should have, too.
Run!
She couldn't get over this new Doctor … this new, wiry, energetic boy of a man who was manically running around the place, flicking switches and talking at a thousand miles an hour. Sure, he was good looking, that was the first thing that had struck her – but Rose was sceptical. How could his voice change as well? Not just the accent – even though it was a shock to hear his Northern, craggy tones elevated to an almost middle class, southern drawl – but the way his mannerisms and turns of phrase had altered altogether. He was so … dry. And she didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.
She looked at him, hard.
"Rose, I promise, it's me."
His eyes pierced her thoughts - brown eyes, not blue. Not anymore.
"Remember what I said to you, the day we first met?
Rose thought, hard. Of course she could remember. Run. They hadn't stopped running since.
Here I am, swannin' off. I came first in Jiggery Pokery. You look beautiful! For a human. I love a happy medium! I don't know about Hitler, but you scare the living daylights out of me! Raxacoricofallapatorius. Dogs with no noses! You were fantastic, absolutely fantastic.
Well, until now they hadn't.
"Run!"
But then again …
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Indiana13: This is an awesome story!
I love it. Please write more Doctor Who stories.