Chapter Six:

The Day After

Andie took a moment to relive the past couple of days. There were moments when time seemed too slow and too miserable, not moving almost. Then, there were those moments when the Doctor wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting her cry against him, and time passed too quickly. She hadn't had time to really listen to the Doctor in the moments while making the funeral just right and laying the plot. Sylvia lay, forever, in between her daughter and her husband. They would forever be her protectors as her father lay beside Donna and the lot of the Nobles and Wilf Mott supported the ground as Sylvia now did.

The Doctor watched from a distance when he felt like he needed to stay away and let her mourn. It hurt him, but he had to sit back. He hadn't stayed to watch Donna's funeral and so, as Mrs. Noble was put to rest, he was remembering the year ago (For him, a year ago) he had seen her and watched her die. It still burned his soul.

She wasn't the only person to die in his arms and very soon, she had given him someone to keep him safe. He hadn't forgotten Andie; he had simply kept her safe and secret. What would he have told Amy, anyway? "I have a sort of child. Not really a child. Not mine… A friend's child. A-a… a sort of godchild, so to speak." It would have led into a bigger discussion, and he wasn't prepared for that. Anyway, Amy had his full attention. She was the centre of the universe for a moment or two.

Andie finally rose from her bed. It took effort, but she kept it up. She had to get up. She had to live.

"I want to show you something, Andie." His voice was very soft, something he had been mindful to being the entire time. He was standing in the hallway, his bow tie not yet tied and his jacket on lazily and shirt a couple of unbuttoned buttons at the top. His hair was a bit of mess and dropped onto the top of his forehead, he thought that for sure, even in his clothes, he probably looked a bit raggedy. He let out a quiet breath, finally letting his eyes rise to hers and reached out his arms. "Can I show you my TARDIS, now?"

It wasn't a rash, quick decision. Andie heard the deep sentiment and the openness of how special the moment he was letting the moments become. She wasn't dressed yet, and so she took his hand and pulled him into a hug.

"No, you silly fool. We're gonna have a proper breakfast. Then I'm gonna get dressed and then you can show me your TARDIS." She mumbled against his chest. She pulled away after he patted her back and she quickly fixed his bow tie. "This has to be the worst fashion statement I've ever seen from anyone. And trust me; I've seen a lot of Jack mess-ups." Andie was grinning as she said it.

The Doctor didn't like that Andie was so into domestication, but humored her and was ready when she popped out of her bedroom. He had quickly fixed his shirt and pulled his jacket closed. He didn't even let her protest and dragged her, much like she had done to him, towards the TARDIS.

He had moved to the backyard of Andie's little home. The Doctor was already taking out his key, and didn't really notice when Andie entwined their fingers for a tighter grip. She was looking around, but before she could get a chance to look at her Earth sky, she was met with gold. Lights, a console, steps, even the windows were lined with the color. It was beautiful. She knew it wasn't earth gold, it probably wasn't even properly gold in the same sense, but the scheme of color seized as she turned around. Then she ran up the stairs to look around. The console with so many things, monitors, buttons, levers. She was grinning, that grin like the Doctor's former incarnation. Full of fun, hope, and just pure excitement.

He followed her, pulling those levers and pressing those buttons. He even pressed the boring blue stabilizers for her first ride. "Now, anywhere in all of space and time - anything that could ever happen or ever will. Where do you want to start?" He turned around to face her, eyes alight with happy that he could see reflected in eyes that reminded him, even in their green as Grenifi grass color, of the Doctor he was before. A wonderful, happy reflection he had missed seeing in the mirror.

He didn't dwell, though, because she interrupted any sort of sulking.

"Grenifi. Jack told me about how you mentioned it to me when you were cooking." She shrugged, eyes not showing any sign of letting up. Oh, those were Donna-eyes. Completely Donna Noble. Donna Noble all the way, with the stubborn hint of Ten.

Okay, now he had a bit of time. Now, with his bit of time, he paused, hands catching a button. "Andie, can I ask you something?"

She nodded, leaning against the console as well, not seeming to notice any sort of change in his tone than as was normal. She didn't realize that normal was the careful, not pushing things Doctor. Andie didn't realize what the real normal was.