Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, that would make me Russell T. Davies (I think…), which would make me a man, which wouldn't follow logic because I'm a girl…

A/N: Drabbledrabbledrabble. Times 6? Post Doomsday. Inspired by Mr. Mickey's comment in "The Christmas Invasion" about Rose's incessant obsession with the Doctor's brilliance and yellow balloons. Ta-ra!

Balloon

There were so many things that reminded him of her.

Some were obvious. The only picture he had of her stashed away where he could stumble across it only if he were looking for it. The things left behind in her room, lonely and forgotten, except when he managed to venture inside.

Then there were the less obvious things. A barrette wedged between a gap in the console that she'd thought she lost on some alien planet. A heel tossed waywardly in an empty hallway that was hardly ever used, one she probably took off after one of their tiresome adventures on her way to bed.

Then there were thing so not obvious that only he got. A Union Jack. A lonely, choppy beach. This certain bran of lip gloss she'd been partial to. A yellow balloon

As he walked solemnly across the empty square, hands buried in his coat pockets, he stopped at the sight of the lost yellow balloon. He followed it with dark eyes as it bounced obliviously over the fountain, letting the wind lead it on its way.

No destination. But on it would go traveling. Until it popped. His lips quirked humorlessly at the connection he'd made in his mind between the balloon and himself.

It was too dreary a day to have such sad thoughts, so he sat at the edge of the fountain, watching the balloon as it floated out of sight and thought back to happier days.

A bright garden full of yellow balloons. Some had been huge, giving the illusion that if you took hold, it might carry you away. But he hadn't wanted to leave. Because she'd been there. And she drew his attention to the tinier ones, growing off green stalks among flowers.

The expression on her face left him in awe. The way she in took the scene around her with a childlike fascination. His eyes were glued to her face, so when she looked suddenly at him, he only became more entranced.

Something like self consciousness crept into her gaze. "What?" She asked, uncharacteristically unsure of herself.

A smile grew slowly on his lips. Without taking his eyes from hers, he shook his head, dumbfounded. "Everything you've seen," he murmured, then gestured around him, "And this still amazes you."

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked to her shoes when she realized he hadn't been gawking at her in distaste but in wonder. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then slipped her hands into her sweater's pockets. "Yeah," she agreed. "'s just… Doesn' matter how many times we do this. You manage to blow me away every single one."

His eyes sparkled now as his grin widened. "Me?" He asked in disbelief. "Blow you away? Nah." He stood and approached her, hand held out for hers. "That's your specialty."

She took his hand automatically, her blush fading. "Says the Time Lord to the human."

As they turned and strode down the path towards a patch that promised red bananas, he squeezed her hand. "Ohhhh," he dragged the syllable."But you're not just any human. One of a kind."

Pleased, she gazed at his smiling face, and placed her left hand over their joined hands. "The both of us." She concurred.

The Doctor let out a long breath of air, more than it seemed he could hold. He blinked, breaking his contact with the retreating balloon. Standing, he tucked his hands into his coat pockets and turned away from the memory. As he strode away from the square, the yellow balloon continued down its mysterious path until it fell out of sight.