David Tennant Fics~

Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who)

Not a Cat Person - Reader makes herself a new cat friend, and has to convince a certain alien, who really does not like cats, to let her new friend stay aboard the TARDIS with them. Good thing Ten has a soft spot for his companions.

A Name for Kitty (NACP-pt2) - After succeeding in convincing the Doctor to keep the cat, the two must decide on a name for the poor little guy. Too bad Time-Lords and Humans have such different taste in names.

Lured Desire - In a reality where your desires lure you in and give you what you deeply crave, the Doctor must turn away from his own perfect world, and encourge his companion to do the same, as much as it hurts him.

Sad Truths - When reader gets taken and injected with a truth serum in a place the Dctor brought her too, the man must accept that maybe the reader isn’t really who he’d thought she is, and that maybe the two of them aren’t as different as he’d thought.

Ten’s Proposal - Ten’s been sitting on his utter adoration for reader for ages, and he’s finally decided to do something about it. It’s been a long, long time since he’d even thought of proposing to anyone, but he can’t bear having you as just his companion any longer.

Parental Demeaning - Reader’s parents aren’t quite as nice and loving as they should be, but reader, nor her parents really see that. Thankfully the Doctor is really a man of observation, and well, a bit protective of his companion. 

Exhilarating - The Doctor really should learn the appropriate times to be kissing his companion-- and that’s certainly not when there’s a huge beast stood a few feet behind from them. 

Purest Expression - In a world where art and creativity is celebrated, the Doctor and his companion are pressured into taking the stage for a tradition among the planet. What are the two to do when they’re to sing a song that perfectly, and honestly, describes the other from their point of view? Sing the song!

Should Be Me - When a trip to a well known bar in the galaxy takes a flirty turn (a Jack Harkness turn), the Doctor has to finally own up and admit to his feelings about the reader. If only it hadn’t taken Jack’s flirtations with his companion for the Doctor to come clean.

Ten’s First (real) Halloween - Reader has decieded that she and the Doctor are going to do matching Halloween costumes this year. The only problem is the Doctor refuses to play along, since the last Halloween he’d been too (the first Halloween) he hadn’t liked it. Thankfully he’s got a soft spot for her... so, Halloween parties and Trick-or-Treating commense!

Woes of Infetility - The Doctor and the Reader have being trying to have a baby for a little over a year with no luck. Maybe it’s time to accept the fact that... maybe that’s just not withing arms reach?

The Man Who Should be Dead (Male!Reader) - The Doctor stumbles across a very human companion on a planet that is very much not earth. Of course he takes the straggler space explorer along with him, because he’s not going to leave him. When danger strikes, the Doctor has only one question: How on earth did his very human Reader survive that? 

Icy Surprise - The Doctor takes his companion for a nice, calming evening ice skating. Only, instead of an ice rink, or frozen body of water somewhere, he takes her to skate on Saturn’s rings. Icey shinanigans ensue.

A Night With the Stars - When Reader gets distracted looking out at the stars from the TARDIS doors one evening, the Doctor doesn’t want to pull her away. Luckily he’s got a plan so she eats dinner, and doesn’t have to leave the view. 

Moonlight Getaway - After a few days of utter intensity with the Doctor, Reader is exhausted. Luckily, the Doctor decides to surprise his companion with a bit of a getaway from their usual escapades. Lots of laughter and dancing ensue. 

Talk Me Down - When the Doctor makes a rash decision to split up on an unknown plant, (Y/N) panics and finds herself trapped in an anxiety attack. There’s little for the Doctor to do when he finally finds her, well, besides giving her comfort and support and helping her through the attack.

Gestures and Evasion - The Doctor has been trying for years to win over his companion, but no matter how hard he tries, it never seems to work. Why does (Y/N)’s lack of interest and blatant evasion hurt him as much as it does?

Man (and TARDIS)’s Best Friend - Reader has been sneaking dogs in need into the TARDIS without the Doctor knowing. (Y/N) really didn’t mean for it to get out of hand, but well, the TARDIS has been helping out, and clearly has a soft spot of the canines.

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Alec Hardy (Broadchurch)

Alec’s Emergency Contact (Male!Reader) - When hurt on the job, hospital staff call the first number on Alec Hardy’s emergency contact list. Too bad he’d be in the dog house when his boyfriend arrives in Broadchurch to give him a piece of his mind (as well as affection). Ellie Miller is just living for her boss being told off, and she can’t deny she’s not incredibly happy to see someone loving her boss like the man deserves.

Hardy’s Cure for Sadness - Some days you’re just blah. For no reason other than just feeling blah. When a blah spell strikes you at work, it’s Alec Hardy who happens to notice when no one else does. And it’s Alec Hardy who tries to turn your mood around.

A Dinner In (H’sCFS Pt. 2) - As a thank you of sorts after Hardy being so kind, Reader invites the Detective Inspector to her place for a home cooked meal in. Reader can’t help but wish they were something more than friends. A romantic evening ensues.

Awkardly Perfect - Reader is used to being the grump of Broadchurch-- well, that is until Alec Hardy makes his way into town and gives her a run for her money. The two of you hit it off easily, and honestly, you really don’t see why everyone else is so weary of the Detective Inspector. Also, why can’t the townspeople leave the two of you alone?

Happiness is Homemade - Alec and Reader welcome their new baby into the world with lots of sweet words and cuddling. Alec can only remember being this happy one other time, and it was about fifteen years prior, when he welcomed his little girl into the world.

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Zebediah Kilgrave (Jessica Jones)

Not Always a Bad Guy - Kilgrave knows he’s not exactly a good guy. Jessica made that very clear towards (and he supposes throughout) their relationship. So... why has Reader been so nice to him? And what’s up with that iPad she’s always drawing on but won’t ever let him see?

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I probably won’t have the time to update this with each new fic, but I will every few! Just wanted to get a head start on orginizing this so people son’t have to scroll through everything to find the fic they’re looking for!

You relaxed back into the bed when your stomach settled down, and finally uncovered your eyes, staring up at the ceiling with a bleary gaze.  

As you laid there, you tried to piece together the evening. The bits and pieces between arriving and having enough to drink that you could no longer walk a straight line.  

You knew you’d gone out on the town with the Doctor—he'd been excited to show you things. He'd raved enthusiastically about the planet, and you’d listened along as your own excitement grew too. Then, you remember finally stepping out of the TARDIS and being completely astounded by this new planet, with all its colours, music and general liveliness.  

The cute little bar wedged between two buildings; you remember that too. And of course, you remember the cocktail—you'd had two, or three, or... had it been four? You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The Doctor had said it was weaker than earth vodka, and maybe it was, but the after effects were definitely more intense to a human that human vodka was. That said you’d still be down for another drink or two before you left.  

It was well worth the pain of a hangover to taste that drink again. Just the thought of it made your tastebuds tingle.  

You let out a light laugh before rolling back over onto you side, but this time following it up with pulling yourself to a sitting position. The nausea was still there, but hardly noticeable; just a subtle warning to keep your movements slow and steady lest you start gagging.  

Your head was still pounding, but you knew that wasn’t going to go away without pain killers, so you stumbled to your feet to go find the Doctor. He’d have something that could help, and at this point, you didn’t care what planet it came from, so long as it killed the raging headache and... well, didn’t kill you.  

You found the Doctor in the kitchen of all places.  

He was perched at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, as well as a book. He startled when you stepped into the room, breathing a light, “oh, (Y/N),” as a greeting.

You continued into the room, wobbling on your feet for just a second, “good morning,” you greeted in return, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the headache, “you don’t happen to have any pain killers do you?”

The Doctor frowned, “are you unwell?”

“Just a bit of a hangover,” you promised with a wave of your hand, “a little worse than an earth alcohol hangover, but it’s manageable. I’ll be fine, my head just really hurts.”

“Right, of course,” the Doctor nodded, pushing himself up and moving towards the cupboards. He rifled around the cabinets, reading labels of things and putting them back before he finally found what he was looking for, “these aren’t of your earth, but they are basically the same thing as your planet’s Advils. I’m sorry I don’t have anything that’ll help from your earth, I should really invest in some if I’m going to keep soliciting companions from earth.”

“Soliciting?” You snorted a laugh, which made you wince lightly, “really?”

“Well, I do tempt you humans away with the offer of the entirety of the universe, now, don’t I?” You smiled at the Doctor’s cheeky grin as he joined you at your side, setting the pill bottle in front of you to do with as you pleased, whether that was to ignore it, or take a couple, before he carried on to the counter. “No different really, I offer the universe in exchange for companionship, and I’m proud to say very few have ever declined. Now, would you like a tea, or coffee?”

“Jokes on the ones who declined, they’re really missing out,” you huffed out as you picked up the pill bottle, surveying over the list of ingredients. None looked too out of the world, but honestly, you’d do anything at this point to ease the thrum of your headache, so you uncapped the bottle, “surprise me.”

The Doctor turned back to flash you a grin from where he’d busied himself at the counter, “will do, my Dear.”

You shook a few pills into your hand from the bottle, eyeing them as if they were about to change colours or something similarly alien-like, but when none of that happened, you frowned, “how many do I take?”

“Well...” the Doctor turned thoughtfully to lean against the counter, “I’d say to start off with one and see if it does anything for you. There will be small differences from planet to planet, and we wouldn’t want you to overdose. After a half an hour you can try taking another pill if one doesn’t help.”

“Sounds good,” you popped a single pill into your mouth before you could hesitate. As if the Doctor was magic, he slid a mug of you go-to morning beverage towards you, and you washed the pill down with a sip of the perfectly prepared drink.  

You savored the taste of your drink, sighing into the warmth. When you’d had a couple sips, you put the cap back on the pill bottle and slid the bottle to the center of the table. You watched the Doctor move around the small kitchen as he made himself another coffee before joining you at the table.  

The two of you settled into a silence, thankfully. You hunched over the table, your elbows on the surface and your cheeks cupped in your palms, as the Doctor continued reading, but he looked like he was lost in his thoughts instead of actually reading.  

“How long have you been up?” you asked slowly, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking them open again to see the Doctor’s gaze on you. “You’re kinda spacing out.”

“I’ve just... some things on my mind,” the Doctor admits with a tiny curl upwards of his lips. It didn’t really answer the question, but at the same time it did. You didn’t think the Doctor had even gone to sleep. “Has the headache eased at all?”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape noticing suddenly that the headache was in fact almost gone. You hadn’t even realized, “yeah,” you informed with a laugh, “almost gone. I didn’t even notice—space things are so much better than earth things; the drugs and alcohol.”

“That would be a very worrying observation if I didn’t know exactly what you were talking about,” the Doctor snorted a laugh. You laughed along too, even if the statement was completely true—it had only been about ten minutes and the space Advil was already working wonders, where as the earth stuff could take anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes to actually kick in.  

“So,” you drawled after another string of comfortable silence between the two of you, “what’s been on you mind then?”

The Doctor eyed you up and down briefly before sighing, running his fingers through his hair and making his already untamed locks stand up at odder angles, “I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” you parroted under your breath. You’d been thinking about yesterday too. How could you not be? There were still gaps in time where you don’t really remember what happened. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?” The Doctor blinked.

“No, I do,” you leaned back in your chair with a sigh, “well, most of it, I think. But some of it... I don’t know? It’s kind of a blur. I guess the cocktails started hitting me towards the end of the evening, I barely remember coming back.”

“You were a bit out of it,” the Doctor admits sheepishly, “glad I cut you off at three drinks then.”

“I could’ve handled more,” you scoffed, smiling widely in a teasing way.  

The Doctor rolled his eyes, leaning forwards, closer to you as his voice dropped, “I do believe three is probably your limit, Love.”

You let out a bout of bright laughter and the Doctor smiled softly. You loved how easy it was to banter with the man—how the two of you were so comfortable with the other that you could tease back and forth like this.  

As if to prove his point, your head gave a warning thrum of pain that drew a shallow breath from you, “yeah,” you shook the pain off, “you’re probably right about three being my space-cocktail limit.”

The Doctor shook his head fondly at you as he settled back in his chair, “so, anything you’d like to know about yesterday? I did promise I’d tell you anything you’d like to know?”

You thought back to what you remembered about yesterday: the walk from the TARDIS to the bar, the ideal seating at the bar, those amazing rainbow cocktails that tasted like dreams. Drinking and chatting and laughing with the Doctor—splitting a plate of chips that were unbelievably delicious... and then... well, the space English the TARDIS didn’t bother translating for you.  

“What was the bartender saying to you?”

The Doctor drew in a breath as his cheeks dusted the faintest pink, “nothing important, I assure.”

“C’mon,” you pouted, cradling your half drank, significantly cooled drink between your hands as you leaned towards the Doctor this time, “you said you promised to tell me about yesterday, right?”

The man chewed at his lip, subdued, but clearly trying to figure out the best course of action, “alright, well, we... I suppose we were acting a tad bit... involved? And... some assumptions were made about us by the barkeep.”

“Involved how?” you raised a questioning eyebrow. “And... what kind of assumptions?”

“Involved involved,” the Doctor cleared his throat, eyeing your level of understanding before rubbing his forehead and adding, “uhm, romantically involved. Those were, well, the main assumptions made as well.”

You gaped for a second before a thought came back to you suddenly, “he kept calling us lovers.”

“Yes,” the Doctor managed a light, fond smile, “I did try to explain it to him: us, our companionship—but, well, he... he didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t believe you?” You repeated back, surprised.  

“No,” the Doctor laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “he made some pretty solid points in favor of us being romantically involved too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “and what points might those be?”

“Well, we were sitting fairly close--”

“As friends do,” the excuse came easily. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but continued on like you hadn’t spoken.

“--I was hovering close to you, I suppose... A bit at least--”

“You were worried about me,” you interjected with a fond eyeroll at how wrong the bartender had been. Lovers? Come on, no way. You guys were... you were friends. Obviously. Though the thought of the Doctor hovering over you, making sure you were okay warmed your heart.  

“--we leaned into each other’s sides, uhm, multiple times throughout the evening--”

You struggled for an excuse for that one, you did tend to lean into his space, not that the Doctor ever seemed to mind. And he liked to press into your personal space as well—neither of you really cared about proximity, so you managed a one shouldered shrug, “it was just loud in the bar, hard to hear each other.”

“--and, well, he pointed out I was staring at you occasionally; odd for him to have noticed, when I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that one, eyebrows furrowing in confusion that made your breath catch in the weirdest way. He’d been staring at you? Why did that make you feel so happy?

“And then the fact that you returned the stare when I wasn’t looking. Honestly, that barkeep spent more time watching us than he did working last night, I’m sure.” The Doctor let out a playful scoff, genuinely amused that the bartender had put more time into them than his job.  

You however, were suddenly caught up in the information.  

He’d been staring at you when you weren’t looking—fondly, you were sure, if it had caught the bartender’s attention and led him to believe the two of you were in a relationship. Then there was the fact that you were staring at him in return? You’d been caught by someone staring at the Doctor? You knew you did it sometimes, how could you not? He was a good-looking, kind, compassionate man who liked your company. Just being with him made your heart speed up.

“That doesn’t mean we’re a couple,” you forced yourself to say, even if... well, you were questioning it just slightly. You knew, of course, that the two of you weren’t a couple but... “That bartender was just bored and looking too far into us, I’m sure he was doing it to everyone...”

“Of course not, surely we’d know if we were, right?” the Doctor agreed with a light grin. The grin only lingered for a second before it faltered and he chewed at his bottom lip. You were about to question it, but he spoke again before you could, “but, well, I suppose there is the song he had to go off of as well.”

“The song?” You questioned before it all flooded back—well, most of it, at least, “we were on a stage. We... we sang together. Was that a karaoke bar or something?”

“We were,” the Doctor ducked his head in a nod, “we... did. And it, well, it was kind of like your earth karaoke bar. Do you remember anything about it?”

You tried to remember, you know the Doctor explained it last night after he’d gotten the information from the barkeeper, but you still don’t really know. And you’re sure there were bits and pieces that he didn’t tell you last night as well. So, you shook your head.

“Right,” the man nodded, settling his elbows on the tabletop as he held his chin up, “well, the concept of the song ritual we were roped into performing is that you sing whatever song best corresponds to what you think about your peer. I’m not exactly sure how it works to be honest, the expression through song is just strong.”

“So, whatever I felt about you would be... conveyed through a song?”

“Yes.” The Doctor gives a light nod.

“And whatever you felt about me would... would also be?”

“Indeed,” his head tilts as he surveys you, trying to piece together where you were going with this string of questions.  

“But... we sang a duet, didn’t we?” You furrowed your eyebrows, running a finger along the rim of your mug. You faintly remembered chiming in with the Doctor’s song, instantly knowing the new lines to his song despite not knowing his lines, or the actual song. “Does that happen? What... what does it mean?”

“Well,” the Doctor cleared his throat, looking nervous. “It does happen, it’s just, well, it’s rare? I suppose. The barkeeper, just before we left, told me that the last time he saw a duet happen during the expression through song ceremony was when he was a child.”

“Wow, okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You had a feeling you knew what it meant, and the thought made your cheeks heat up, but you asked anyways, “what does a duet mean?”

“Well, generally speaking...” the Doctor shot you a small, crooked smile, “it means that we feel exactly the same way about each other. Exactly the same to the point that our expression would be through the same song, at the same time.”

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but repeat, “that’s... wow. So it really is unusual then? Why did it happen to us? Was it a fluke?”

“No, don’t think so,” the Doctor shakes his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as his fingers tap against the table, “something like that would be hard to fake, so I doubt it was a fluke. We chose the song—deep in our subconscious when thinking of the other... I mean... I didn’t know the lyrics beforehand, did you?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers fiddling with your empty mug, “I don’t even think I remember the lyrics now. They were just... in my head when they needed to be. I didn’t even know your lines of the song. It’s weird that we were the people that got the duet—random visitors.”

“It was the same for me,” the Doctor sends you a small smile, “I think few people view their... companion the same way their companion views them. It seems highly unlikely that any two people can feel the exact same way...”

You’re not sure why, but there’s something different about the way the Doctor says companion this time around. Maybe he holds a different fondness than you’re used to, or perhaps some other reason, but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in the word.  

“But we did,” you whisper, looking up momentarily and catching the Doctor’s eyes before dropping your gaze back to your cup.

“But we did,” the Doctor repeats, just slightly louder than you. Like he too can’t wrap his brain around it. There’s a pause before the Doctor’s clearing his throat, forcing a crooked smile onto his lips. “Well, I promised you we head to the shops for some alcohol and other treats, didn’t I?”

The Doctor stands, moving swiftly towards the door without looking back.

“I meant it, you know?” You speak before you even realize you’re speaking. You don’t see the Doctor stop, since you’re facing the other direction, but you hear his steps come to a halt, feet planting in spot.  

He doesn’t say anything for a second, which prompts you on, “I do need you.”

He still doesn’t say anything, or move, so you stand and gather both your mug and his own, walking in the opposite direction from him towards the sink. You set the mugs in but don’t touch the faucet, instead mumbling a soft, “I want you.”

You’re not even sure if he’d still there anymore, or if he’d taken you moving as his cue to escape. You don’t turn to look, afraid to not find him there, so instead you whisper what little of your lyrics from yesterday that you remember, “come on back to me.”

Another moment of silence drags in before you hear the Doctor moving. His steps are quick, and you think he’s leaving out the door when suddenly hands are on your waist and he’s swiftly turning you around and gently pushing you against the edge of the counter beside the sink.  

You manage to muffle your surprise as his lips press against yours, soft but urgently all the same.  

You melt into his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands leave your waist, one wrapping around your middle, as the other rises to cup at your jaw. It spurs you on too, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him just slightest bit close, to which he blindly follows your lead.  

You don’t pull away until the need to breath outweighs how good it feels to be kissing him.

You both gasp for breath, but neither of you pull away, lips still touching the faintest bit, “I didn’t think you even remembered the lyrics... how... intimate the duet was...” It’s the first thing the Doctor’s said since trying to flee the room.

You slowly open your eyes, catching his eyes waiting to make contact and a smile pulls at your lips. You pull away a bit, pushing your forehead against his, “I didn’t really remember the lyrics until just now, but I never forgot the feeling of singing them to you, and hearing you singing them back to me.”

The arm around your waist tightens around you, “I didn’t know you felt the same way,” the Doctor whispers. “I didn’t want to... make you uncomfortable, or chase you away. And then you woke up this morning, and didn’t remember anything with the hangover, so I... was going to let it go.”

You’re sure you make a noise of protest, maybe even disappointment, but you only assume because the Doctor lets out a chuckle before stealing another kiss that you’re more than happy to give.  

When he goes to pull back, you snake your hand up to hold him in place, mumbling softly against his lips the last of your lyrics, a message he’d sure to understand, “I love you sundown.”

The Doctor freezes against you pulling back just enough to look into your eyes before a smile creeps onto his face. You smile at his smile, watching him fondly as his head tilts in that adorable way, affection bright in his eyes, “and I, you, my Love.”

You melt at the words leaning into him and pressing your head against his chest, fitted perfectly under his chin like a puzzle piece. Your arms wrap around him, and his move to hold you against himself just as you had done to him seconds earlier.  

You stay like that for a while—you're not sure how long. You feel protected tucked against the Doctor, and it’s a feeling you’re never going to forget.  

“How’s your head?” he asks softly above you, the voice after so long of nothing by his steady heart beats startles you. The Doctor presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

“Better,” you decide, nuzzling closer to him, “why?”

“Well, I did promise we’d check out the shops, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I almost forgot about that,” you laugh, finally pulling away. The Doctor unwraps his hand begrudgingly, frowning as he does so. You let out a laugh, slipping your hand into his. “I wanna see the shops before we leave this evening. We’ve gotta get some of that vodka.”

“I see more hangovers in your near future,” the Doctor snorts as he leads you along by the hand.  

“Oh, and, we should definitely pick up a gift for the bartender from last night,” you add, ignoring the Doctor’s teasing jab at your weak human alcohol tolerance.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, without his instance that we sing, and his instance that we were a couple, none of this,” you gesture down to your interlocked hands as the two of you step out of the TARDIS and onto the busy, colourful streets, “would’ve happened.”

The Doctor’s quiet for a second as the two of you fall into step. “There’s nothing in the universe that can ever thank him enough for what he’s done,” the man softly admits, giving your hand an adoring squeeze that drives his words home.  

Your cheeks heat up as you tuck yourself in his side. He moves easily to accommodate you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders instead. You move your hand to squeeze around his waist, grinning as you respond cheekily, “I don’t know, Doctor, the space vodka is pretty good...”  

The man sputters at your response, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow, “I was being all cute and you’re comparing the gift of our newfound relationship to vodka?” the man questions, genuinely dumbfounded.  

You give a one shouldered shrug at his side, giggling at his reaction. It wasn’t long until the man was letting out a fond sigh, thumb stroking against your collarbone, “what am I going to do with you?”  

The tease in his words has you smiling. There really is nothing in the universe that seems equivalent to the gift the bartender bestowed to you, but... yeah, a bottle of space vodka was a nice start.  

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Hello again! Hopefully you liked this continuation. Not sure if it kept to the prompt exactly, I got a bit carried away writing it, but nonetheless, I hope it was good! Feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for, as always!

He spoke little of Gallifrey. Of his life, and what it was like there before the war. You knew very little of Time-Lords in general, and what you did know was more from observing one than actually learning from the Doctor. He was secretive about his home, and his people. A sad, nostalgic tilt to his head whenever his past was mentioned.  

You couldn’t help but be curious.  

That first spark of curiosity stemmed from helping the Doctor search for something in one of the backrooms in the TARDIS. The room was dark, a flickering light above your heads that didn’t quite provide the light you needed—but it would do.  

The Doctor had his head buried in a box, haphazardly tossing things behind him as he searched. You still weren’t entirely sure what it was the two of you were looking for—something not of earth, that was for sure, so you were more or less just observing.  

You looked cautiously through boxes, searching for the vague description of the item the two of you were on the hunt for.  

Coming up blank in your current box, you stood, stretched your back and carried onto the next; but before you could drop to a kneel beside a new, unopened tote box, something else caught your attention.  

A bassinet.  

It was old and worn. At one-point, bold colourings of blue and yellow, or perhaps even grey and yellow, but the colour had long since faded away, the paint flaking off in spots. It was tucked away, nestled behind other boxes.  

You chanced a glance back at the Doctor, who was still head deep in a box on the other side of the room, before stepping towards the cot. You crouched beside it, drawing your fingers over the odd markings on the side of the cot before carefully pushing the stack of boxes blocking it in to the side.  

With the whole thing in view now, you couldn’t help but smile at the little cot. It was like nothing you’d seen on earth, or any other planet you’d seen thus far.  

You settled your hand on the edge of it, and it rocked faintly under the light pressure. The mobile on hanging down was probably your favorite part; stars and spheres that looked to be made out of metal that you assumed resembled planets or something along the lines.  

You weren’t really sure why the Doctor had such a thing. There was a lot you didn’t know about him.  

You let your fingers trail over the markings again, trying to see anything other than circles.  

“Aha,” the Doctor’s voice dragged you from your thoughts, “I’ve found it.”

You turned slightly to look, still crouched beside the cot.  

The Doctor hadn’t looked up yet, instead polishing the item in his hands with the edge of his coat as he spoke, “pesky little thing, always in the last place you look--” the man’s attention finally raised to you, where his words faded off as he caught sight of the bassinet to your side.  

You tilted your head, watching him closely before looking back at the bassinet, and then back at the Doctor once again. He was frozen in place, eyebrows furrowed as if see something he never thought he’d see again.  

You cleared your throat gently, “I found this while I was looking,” you explain, “sorry.”

“No,” the Doctor frowned, taking a few steps towards you, before settling to stand at your side, observing the cot over his nose, “no need to be sorry, (Y/N).”

He’s quiet for a moment, just studying the cot. His eyes travel the length of it, lingering on the mobile before his eyes fall to your hand still flattened over the symbols on the side. He smiles the faintest bit.

“It’s beautiful,” you manage to breath out, curious about it now that you know the Doctor’s not upset, and isn’t angry you were kinda snooping around. “Whose was it?”

“Mine,” the Doctor lets out a light laugh, hand falling onto the hood of the bassinet, thumb stroking a line, “it was one of the few things I managed to save before... Couldn’t let it go, I suppose.”

His voice is uncharacteristically soft as he speaks. You don’t see the Doctor overcome with nostalgia often, but it’s always a sight to see. He doesn’t look quite as sad as he studies the cot, but there’s the lingering glaze to his eyes.  

You watch the Doctor for just a moment before letting your eyes settle back on the cot. You trail your fingers over the symbols softly before looking up at the Doctor, only to see him looking down at you fondly, “what does this mean?”

“It’s my name,” he explains softly, crouching beside you now after tucking whatever it was the two of you were searching for into his pocket. “My first one, I mean. Not... not the Doctor, that’s my chosen name.” His own fingers flutter over the circles, the smile on his face a little sadder now.  

His fingers brush over yours, overlapping on the engravings before he’s laughing lightly. He withdraws his hand from the cot, fingers curling around your own briefly before he’s pulling back from you as well. “I haven’t seen this in ages; forgot it was here to be honest.”

He stands back to his height casually, brushing off the wrinkles in his clothing from kneeling before he grins, the softness from moments ago masked behind his usual charming smile. “Anyways, enough about this old thing, we’ve got work to do—universes to save and all that.”

His hand is held out for you to grab, and you hesitate for just a second before slipping your hand into his and being whisked away on another adventure.

----

For days you find yourself distracted by the cot hidden away in one of the back rooms of the TARDIS. Possibly one of the last remaining things from the planet Gallifrey—from the Doctor’s world.  

And his name--

His real, parent given name engraved on the side in Gallifreyan.  

It looked beautiful engraved delicately across the side of the bassinet. You couldn’t read it—but you could appreciate the beauty. You wish you could read it. 

You spend some time in the library in the TARDIS. It's big—the Doctor has been travelling for years and years, hundreds of years. He’s collected from here, and there, books from all over.  

You can’t read a lot of them; most are in other languages, a few even in the circle-y kinda writing you now know is Gallifreyan. You’re still curious though. You want to know. The cot only raised more questions, that desire to learn only burning brighter now that there’s something to figure out.  

The cot proof enough that he did have a given name somewhere that her buried away after losing his home. After losing everyone who would know that name.  

You could tell he still thought fondly of it, just by how he’d looked at the cot, had trailed his fingers over the engraving with the fondest, featherlike touch.  

You weren’t sure how you’d stumbled upon the book. Where the book had come from. It wasn’t easy to understand in the slightest and you spent many hours staring down at it. It was almost a... well, a decryption code of sorts.  

The thing was, it decrypted through other languages. Languages you did not know. Languages you hadn’t even known existed.  

It took a while to locate all the books you’d need. You didn’t know the Doctor would have all these books; that he’d taken the time to learn the languages even when the TARDIS would just translate everything for him easily. The thought made you smile, he cared so much.  

There were six additional books you’d need to decipher the Gallifreyan text. None of which you understood in the slightest. You had your work cut out for you.  

You spend days hunched over books. Learning language after language, scribbling down alphabets that looked almost like yours, but were so vastly different. You suddenly had an appreciation for the ones who’d dedicated so much time to decrypting the Egyptian hieroglyphics.  

It was the most intense code breaker game you’d ever played.  

Finally, after weeks of trying, you had a key of Gallifreyan alphabet to your own English alphabet.  

You were giddy about it. Weeks worth of work, and you could finally decipher the Gallifreyan written on the side of the cot. You’d finally know the Doctor’s true name.  

But you hesitated.  

You stood before the room that housed the baby cot for days. Wanting to push the door open and finally get the answer you were seeking, but you couldn’t find it in you to do so. It felt like you were intruding. Like this was something you weren’t supposed to know.  

“Is your name a secret?” you’d asked slowly as you watched the Doctor fly the TARDIS. It was late—you'd spent the past twenty minutes glaring at the door to the storage room. After that, you hadn’t been able to sleep, so you found yourself seeking the Doctor out.  

The Doctor turned to you, raising a confused eyebrow.

“Your real name,” you added to ease the confusion. “The one on your cot, is it a secret?”

He’d thoughtful for a second, turning to lean against the console. He looks up in thought, arms crossing across his chest, “no,” he decides softly, “’suppose not.”

It’s your turn to be quiet.  

“Why don’t you tell people it?”

He lets out a sigh, but it’s not annoyed, instead, it’s almost sad, “I dunno, (Y/N). It was a long time ago. It’s been ages since I went by it. My name died along with my planet... with my people, and my native tongue.” He’s quiet again, voice soft when he adds, “but it’s alright, I like going by the Doctor, it suits me, don’t’ya think?”

You nod distractedly, playing with your fingers. “Do you miss it?”

He looks surprised. Shocked by the question.  

It wasn’t that the Doctor decided against his name—it was almost that it was stolen from him. Taken away like his home, his family and his planet. “Sometimes,” he gave a subtle nod, arms dropping to his sides as he stares across from him at the wall, “perhaps not the name in general, but... well, people knowing it? That went away with Gallifrey. It’s a hard language to learn and comprehend when you’re not a native. It too died with the war. The Doctor’s just easier anyways.”

You give another nod, this one not quite as distracted.  

The Doctor studies you briefly before he clears his throat, “what’s all this talk of my name anyways?”

His voice is light again, and just like that, the switch has flipped from the soft Doctor, to the Doctor with his walls in place and a grin on his face.

“No reason,” you send him a smile, “curious is all.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you, like he doesn’t quite believe you, but shrugs it off nonetheless. He turns back to the console with one last lingering look over his shoulder.

“I’m going to bed,” you tell him with a yawn.

“Sure,” he smiles fondly, his reply mirroring the fond smile, “goodnight then. Sleep well, (Y/N).”

“Night,” you reply with your own smile, leaving the console room feeling like a weight was lifted off your chest.

It’s the following morning, very early, that you make your way to the storage room, the papers of converted alphabets in your arms. Like every other time, you hesitate outside the door before finally pushing the door open, the Doctor’s words from last night giving you that final push.  

You spend a while sitting cross legged on the floor beside the cot. It hadn’t been moved from the last time you were there, which meant the Doctor hadn’t tried to hide it away again, or push it back to where he had been buried behind boxes. You smiled at the cot; it was just as adorable as before.  

Your fingertips ghost over the Gallifreyan symbols you process through multiple different conversion lists. It takes ages, but there’s also something so gratifying about getting this far. About being able to do what you are—taking something in Gallifreyan and converting it to something you understand in your language.  

Finally, after a couple hours of slowly deciphering the Gallifreyan symbols, as well as translating each and every one through the lists of conversions, you’re left with English letters.  

English words.  

A name.

You have the Doctor’s name—maybe not in Gallifreyan, but in English. And that’s as good as you’ll be able to get, because being able to directly read or, speak Gallifreyan is virtually impossible.

You stared down at the name you’d written out, the corner of your lips curling up into the slightest of smiles. It suited him.

----

You sat on the fact you knew the Doctor’s Gallifreyan name for a few more days. 

You weren’t sure how to bring it up. How to tell him that you knew it. There was still that lingering thought that he might be upset that you knew it. That you’d gone behind his back and learned it.  

You repeated his words back to yourself, that his name wasn’t a secret, just forgotten. You didn’t think he’d be angry or upset that you’d figured it out, but you were still a bit nervous.  

You were in the console room with the Doctor again when you finally worked up the courage to come clean.

The two of you were sitting in the doorway, just orbiting space. He’d been sitting there when you’d come to find him, so you’d just settled beside him. The Doctor had done nothing more than lull his head in your direction before shooting you a light smile and settling his hand on top of yours softly.  

You stared out at the stars, watching them flicker with faraway flames.  

“Lovely, isn’t it?” the Doctor’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. He’s not looking at you, instead out at the stars as well. You nod, scooching closer to let your head fall against his arm. “I’ve been a bit nostalgic lately,” he informs softly, “this is about as close to Gallifrey as we can get. Neighboring galaxy, since Gallifrey and its galaxy was wiped out of existence.”

You’re silent at his side, but the Doctor doesn’t seem to mind, “seeing that cot again, it made me miss home, I suppose.”

You’re a bit surprised that the Doctor led you into this—gave you an opening.  

It seemed perfect too—as close to Gallifrey as you could get to call him by his Gallifreyan name.  

“It’s beautiful,” you hum out softly, biting your lip before continuing, “Theta Sigma.”

The silence is surprising loud. Ringing uncomfortable to your years because this is territory you’d never dreamed of trekking before. It wasn’t often you managed to catch the Doctor off guard, but you certainly had this time.  

Beside you, the Doctor whips to look at you, but for a moment, you refuse to meet his gaze. You can see the shock bleeding into his features in your peripherals. His eyes are wide, mouth agape as he stares at you.  

“Where... where did you hear that?” the Doctor finally asks after a few minutes of dragging silence. You’d not said anything to allow him to process it—it had probably been hundreds of years since anyone had called him by his given name.  

“I-I didn’t hear it anywhere,” you tell him after two nervous, involuntary swallows to wet your throat, “I, uh, I learned it.”

“You learned it?” he repeated, like he couldn’t understand it. “Where?”

“From your cot,” you explain softly. “It’s your name—your real name, isn’t it?”

“How?” the word comes out almost frantic, his eyes still wide with surprise, but he doesn’t sound angry or upset like you’d feared. It’s genuine shock. “The text on my cot is in Gallifreyan, and unless you’re actually a Time-Lord and you haven’t told me, there’s no way you could read it.”

“I didn’t read it, well, uh, not really, I guess?” you blink, hiding a small frown behind your shoulder as you looked towards the Doctor, “I translated it.”

“You whot?” he furrows his brows in confusion, “how on earth did you do that?”

You shuffle anxiously where you’re sitting before you shift in order to pull the translation keys you’d made from your back pocket. You had a suspicion he might’ve needed some proof of what you’d done.  

You slap the papers against your palm nervously before finally passing them over.  

The Doctor takes them with an unsure look before he unfolds them and skims through your work. It’s all there. Every translation you’d done to come up with your final results of Theta Sigma. Each alphabet you’d deciphered from another. Each letter translated over and over through multiple alphabets.  

His eyes were still stuck on the papers, so you cleared your throat a third time and spoke to fill the silence, “I found a book in Gallifreyan in the library, and it had, well, another language in it. So, I uh, I found the language that was in that book and so on, until I stumbled upon a book with English too.”

“You converted my name through each of these languages?” his surprise shines brightly, as well as an emotion you can’t quite place.  

You nod hesitantly, “from there I just... well, I kept translating. I built alphabet keys to understand the words and after a while I had the Gallifreyan key. I... I don’t understand it, if that’s what you’re concerned about. It took hours even with the keys to decrypt your name, but I was curious...”

You suck in a breath, shifting away from the Doctor slightly, “-I’m sorry...”

When you look at him again, here’s a tiny smile on his lips. He stared down at the papers in his hand, flicking through them as he reads. Finally looking into your work. He’s reading through it now, understanding, “you did all this?”

“Yeah,” you nod softly, “I just thought... well, no one knows your name, but you said it’s not a secret. People just don’t... know it? So... I thought maybe you’d like someone to know it. To hear it again... I can forget I know it if... if that’s what you want,” you offer carefully.  

You know you won’t be able to forget it, it’s an important part of the Doctor after all—who he was before he was the Doctor. But you don’t have to mention it again if the Doctor doesn’t want you too.  

“How long did all this take?” his voice is misty like he can’t believe what he’d reading. His eyes snap towards you, and away from the papers as he waits for an answer.

You furrow your own eyebrows as you glance towards him again with a one shouldered shrug, “a few weeks, give or take. After I found the English book it was a lot easier. Playing matching with alien languages is super hard.”

The Doctor lets out a surprised laugh, still cradling the papers in his hands. “I’d bet,” he agrees with a lopsided smile. Then he’s quiet again, staring thoughtfully at the papers, “I just... I can’t believe you learned it. No one’s ever... taken the time, I suppose. Many know Doctor isn’t my given name, but... no one was interested in finding out my real name. My name’s just always been lost with Gallifrey.”

“No one?” you questioned softly, a frown tugging at your lips.

“Well,” he huffed, glancing towards you with a crooked smile, “they’d ask, occasionally, but I never gave it. No point really, not when The Doctor works just as well and is easier to use. Besides, it’s been, well, centennials since I went by Theta Sigma. So, yeah, no one.” His grin widens, “well, no one except you.”

When you catch the Doctor’s eyes, they’re wide with fondness, shining brightly as he studies you.

“I was just curious,” you tell him with another light shrug, “I think Theta Sigma suits you, Doctor.”

“Does it?” He replies, tone teasing. “You now, my dear, you’re completely one of a kind.”

You let out a laugh, slipping back towards the Doctor. You let yourself settle against his side again, cheek pressing against his arm. His hand settled on your knee, and you dropped your hand on top of his, patting the top of his hand.  

“Guess we’re both one of a kind, aren’t we, Theta Sigma?”

<><><><>

Hello again! I hope you liked this, and it was what you were looking for :D But, if not, feel free to prompt me again! 

Just a few weeks ago. You were on earth, which, for it being your home planet, you didn’t tend to spend much time around anymore. You and the Doctor hadn’t exactly split up, but he’d left you to your own devices while he went off doing whatever it was he was doing on earth. The man had an agenda, and earth was the only place you didn’t mind being by yourself on.  

It was later in the evening, street lights illuminating the darkness around you as you strolled. It was nice to just be back on earth for a while, where you knew the terrain, and the people. Where things weren’t completely surprising, or shocking.

You’d been so caught up in your own head as you wondered around, you’d barely noticed the creature cowering on the sidewalk that you tripped over. The creature whimpered, and winced down, and it instantly broke your heart.  

You’d always been an animal person, sympathizing with those neglected, or abandoned, or abused. You couldn’t imagine ever intentionally hurting, or leaving a pet alone, so this was hard to see.  

The dog, you realized, stared at you fearfully. Cowering down like you were going to hit it. It was an older dog, dirty and scruffy, some kind of shih-tzu mutt if you were to guess. Its fur was matted, clearly left to on his own for a while at this point.  

You didn’t even want to think about what this dog had been through, just from his attitude towards humans, as well as it’s neglected state. He’d obviously been abandoned—maybe grown too old and lost that cute ‘puppy’ image that some people craved. The thought disgusted you.

The poor little guy was skin and bones, shivering where he was tucked in on himself despite his coat of matted fur that was probably too warm for even the late-night chill.  

You knew you couldn’t leave him. Not in good conscious. He obviously needed someone—he needed a person to care for him, and do the right thing for him, which is... well, it’s how you found yourself sneaking into the TARDIS with the poor little dog swaddled in your sweater.  

The Doctor wasn’t much of an animal person. He’d never outright said it, but you’d never really seen him interacting with creatures. Not like how a human would love and care for a stray dog, or cat. He never seemed the type.  

You weren’t sure how he was going to react to the dog.  

You moved swiftly through the TARDIS, your little companion wiggling in your grip as you snuck through the TARDIS halls. You weren’t even sure if the Doctor was in, or out.

“(Y/N)?” His voice called from behind you. The bundle in your arms froze, as did you as you debated your options. You were a ways away from your bedroom—the safety of it where you could clean up the little dog and think of a better plan than to be caught in the hallway with a stowaway in the Doctor’s space and time machine.

The Doctor’s steps were approaching, following behind you. He was so close. You turned to look behind you, afraid he’d catch up and you’d have to explain the dog so soon. You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking about making a break for it as you turned forwards again--

And there before you, was a doorway. Which didn’t make sense, because you’d been in the hallway, at least twenty steps away from your bedroom door, if not more. You knew for a fact there wasn’t any doorways for a while, because this corridor often felt endless. You looked around in confusion, frowning to yourself as you let your hand settle on the doorknob.  

“(Y/N)?” The Doctor called again, confused, and so much closer than before. You barely had a second thought as you pulled the door open, tumbling in as your feet moved before your brain could process the action.  

The door shut behind you, which you had absolutely no part in as you tried to finally catch your footings, arms securing around the bundled dog. It was only when you looked up to see where you ended up that you realized you were in you room.  

It didn’t make a lick of sense, but you were quick to settle the dog into your closet as you heard steps approaching, managing to jump onto the bed and pretend to be reading a book that was on your bedside table just as the door opened.

The Doctor furrowed his brows at you, gaze looking from the book in your hands, up to your face in confusion, “I could’ve sworn I just saw you returning to the TARDIS,” the Doctor commented, voice almost distasteful as he eyed you.

“Nope,” you forced out, hoping you didn’t sound as much like you were hiding something as you did to your own ears, “been here a while, Doctor.”

The man casted his eyes around the room again, looking for anything out of the ordinary, before he settled on you again, clearly coming up short.  

“Uh huh, well, we’ll be leaving shortly if you’re good to go?” he blinked, leaning just the slightest bit against the doorframe, and giving the room another thoughtful onceover.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered out, cursing your anxious nerves internally before flashing the man a grin to hide you panic.

“Alright, well,” The Doctor frowned as he moved to pull the door shut behind him. He paused before it shut, standing for a second before he spoke again, “I was unaware humans could read upside down.”

The door clicked shut, and it was only then you let out a breath, eyes snapping down to the book you were indeed holding upside down. You groaned to yourself as you righted the book before dropping it back on the bedside table annoyed at that tiny detail that could’ve ruined it all.  

You pushed yourself off the bed, moving swiftly to the closet where you pulled the door open and smiled down at the nervous little dog. He was still mostly wrapped in your sweater, but his head and shoulder were exposed.  

“C’mon,” you offered your arms, “let’s get you clean up, huh?”

The dog only hesitated for a second before moving close enough for you to pick up. You cradled him in your arms, pressing your cheek against his head as you stared up at the ceiling for a second.  

You weren’t entirely sure what had happened just then, but you know one thing. You definitely hadn’t done it alone.  

“Thank you,” you smiled up to the ceiling, knowing exactly who’d helped you protect the little dog.

----

You’d given the little dog the name Teddy. He’d been a nervous wreck when you’d been snipping away at his matted fur with the scissors in your bathroom, but he’d warmed up to you a lot while you bathed him warm water with a sweet-smelling dog shampoo that was, confusingly enough, hidden away in the bathroom cabinet.

The name had only really come to be when bedtime rolled around, and you found yourself with a cuddly, snuggly little dog tucked in your arms. It was like snuggling with a teddy bear, and you couldn’t imagine naming him anything else as you stroked his ears as he slept.  

You really had just meant to leave it at Teddy, and see how long you could get away with hiding him away in your room. You snuck him food from the kitchen, set down a bowl of water in the bathroom, as well as a bowl of kibble that you had absolutely no idea where it had come from. You suspected the TARDIS helping you out where she could, and the thought made you smile.  

It was almost a game at this point, and it was a funny thought that it appeared to be you and the TARDIS against the Doctor. Finally, the odds seemed a bit more well-rounded.

Hunny and Saidy had come into your life unexpectedly.  

You knew the two German Shepherd Rottweiler mixes well. You’d gotten the call from your friend, the one who owned the two, that she could no longer keep them. She was being evicted, and it was quite hard to find a flat that would allow someone to have two medium-big sized dogs.

You knew you really shouldn’t take them—but you knew the girls, and they loved you, and the thought of them being rehomed, or given to the pound or something else just because no one wanted to take them made a weight settle in your stomach. The thought of them being separated tore at your heart.  

You weren’t sure where you were going to keep them, as you walked into the TARDIS holding both a pink and purple lead as you led them into the time and space machine. The girls were quiet, silent besides their paws tapping on the floor, as well as their panting as you led them along.  

You bit your bottom lip as you opened your door, stepping in quickly as you ushered them in, before closing the door and leaning your back against it. When you looked up, your jaw dropped.  

Your room was double the size it had been before. Three food bowls, and three dog beds—one small, and two big enough for Hunny and Saidy to sprawl out on. It warmed your heart to see, the effort the TARDIS was going through to make room for the dogs was honestly adorable.  

There’d been that inkling of worry that you wouldn’t have enough room to house these dogs and that you’d need to start rehoming them.  

You grinned up at the ceiling, “you go, TARDIS,” you laughed out as you kneeled to scratch at both Hunny and Saidy, then, to the dogs, you continued, “welcome home, girls.”

Teddy wagged his tail happily from the bed, hopping down to greet the new dogs, and you were overjoyed to see them all getting along.  

----

Gizmo was not a dog. Well, he wasn’t an earth dog, at least. You and the Doctor had been on a planet in a universe you hadn’t even known existed when the two of you stumbled upon a pack of little creatures.  

They were babies, you could see.  

You’d never seen anything quite like them. They were tiny—like teacup chihuahuas, fluffy like them too. They were a bit bigger than palm sized, and you were sure they didn’t weigh much more than half a pound, if that. They almost... well, they kind of resembled dragons too. It was like an earth dog and a dragon procreated.  

Their colours were vibrant, an orange one with purple markings, a green one with red patches. One tri-coloured one, which was two different shades of blue with patches of white.  

They were rainbow chihuahua-dragon hybrids.

The babies flocked around you and the Doctor, attempting to crawl up your shins. They made little sounds of excitement, not quite a bark, but close enough, and you instantly fell in love with them.  

“Awh!” You swooned, kneeling down so the small creatures could finally make their way up you. You’d learned early on to only be afraid of things if the Doctor appeared to be afraid of it—or if it was threatening you with weaponry, or violence. The Doctor never really seemed afraid of that. “What are they?”

“Tricos,” the Doctor huffed, crouching down so he was lower, but not quite at an angle for the little creatures to crawl on him. “They’re easily domesticated creatures, but are more-so viewed as nuisances by the locals.”

You frowned, looking down at all the little faces. They didn’t act much different than puppies on earth would. “Why do the locals not like them? They’re like little dragon-dogs—look at how cute!” You grabbed the blue and white one under the arms and hoisted him up for the Doctor to see his face.

“Well,” the Doctor clicked his tongue, crinkling his nose at the little Trico, “They’re scavengers. Like earth raccoons and rodents. Besides, they don’t quite have the intelligence for violence, so they’re pretty low on the food chain. Some locals have domesticated them, but lots don’t want to put in the effort.”

“Well,” you stuck your bottom lip out in a pout, “I like them.”

“I know,” the Doctor’s smile was small, his hand reaching out to stoke one of the Trico’s backs, before he was standing up again, “well, c’mon then. We can stay here all day. There’s things to be done.”

You pouted, taking the Trico’s off your lap one by one, petting them before settling them on the ground before you were standing as well, ducting yourself off. You looked back at them, frowning as you waved before you followed after the Doctor.  

It was only when you were tucked away in your room that evening, surrounded by Teddy, Saidy and Hunny that you noticed the sweater you’d shrugged off and tossed onto your bed shift as if something was in it. You froze, watching the sweater move, as the dogs around you growled—Teddy being the only one confident enough to draw closer.  

Your heart stopped for just a second as Teddy sniffed the sweater, only to cry out in surprise as the little blue and white Trico’s head peeked out from under the folds of the sweater, tiny tail wagging against the weight of the sweater.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you laughed away the fear, sliding off the bed to kneel beside the sweater. The Trico’s nose pushed into your cheek, before it gave you a lick like earth dogs did when they liked someone. “Have you been hanging on all day?” You asked, knowing the creature wouldn’t respond now that his attention was locked onto Teddy, who was reversing cautiously towards the girls.  

“It’s alright,” you hushed the dogs, offering your palm to the Trico; the little creature didn’t hesitate for a second before pulling himself up, tail whipping back and forth happily as he did so—and you could see a bit of the lack of intelligent the Doctor had mention, but it just warmed your heart. “It’s okay.”

The dogs took the evening to get used to the little Trico who you named Gizmo. You’s fallen asleep boxed in by German Rotties, with Teddy tucked against your side, and the tiny little Trico snuggled up on your chest.  

That following morning, you found a book on Trico knowledge and care instructions on your bedside table and whispered a hushed thank you to the TARDIS as you propped it open and read about the newest addition to your dog pack.  

----

After the Trico, you weren’t entirely sure how you’d managed to find Chloe, Bella and Cohen. They were a package deal, Chloe, an older Pitbull, who’d trailed behind you, hesitant but trusting all the same as if you gave off some kind of calming pheromone that attracted dogs in need. She walked slow with Bella and Cohen following behind her like ducklings.  

Bella was a French bulldog, and you weren’t entirely sure why someone would abandon such an expensive dog so young, but you’d taken her in easily. Cohen was the smallest of the three, a chihuahua mix that pressed in tight against the Pitbull.  

They were all strays down on earth, and you’d just happened to stumble upon them while the Doctor was chasing some alien criminal around for the safety of earth. You almost felt bad sneaking away to lead the trio of dogs into the TARDIS where she welcomed them with open arms, and three additional dog bowls, and a huge cushion that the three of them could curl up on.

“I knew you were up to something,” You spun quickly, mouth dropped in a hurried attempt to get something out as the Doctor stood with his arms crossed in the doorway, scowl on his face.  

Before you could say anything, your bedroom door slammed shut, much to your own surprise, and the Doctor’s as well, who you could hear jumping back in shock.

“TARDIS,” you gasped, attention shooting up to the ceiling.  

“(Y/N),” The Doctor’s voice travelled through the door, as the knob turned but wouldn’t open. “What in the world?”

You almost would’ve laughed if you weren’t busy ushering all the dogs into your adjoining bathroom and closing them in. You tried to make yourself look natural, standing awkwardly in front of your bathroom door, and it was only then that your bedroom door finally open, the Doctor stumbling in like it had pushed open as he’d been leaning on it.

“What,” he gasped out as he tried to regain his footings, “is going on here?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked out.  

You’d known that at some point you wouldn’t be able to hide the dogs anymore. You knew the Doctor was clever, and you were actually a bit surprised it had taken him this long to figure you out. But that didn’t mean you weren’t afraid that it was happening now—you'd been holding on the idea that it would happen eventually.

The Doctor stepped more into the room so he couldn’t be locked out again, where he eyed everything in your room, his gaze settled on the dog beds and food bowls. His gaze raised from the beds and dishes to your face, where his features were unreadable.  

He was a smart man, so he obviously knew what he was looking at when he asked: “what’s all this?”

You couldn’t seem to come up with a logical explanation besides the truth. But you still stuttered over your words.

“What’s in the bathroom?” the Doctor asked calmly, stepping closer to you, as you stepped back, blocking the bathroom door more urgently.

“W-what bathroom?” You asked dumbly, but to your surprise, the Doctor’s eyebrows shot up as he angled his head to look around you. You turned to look back at the door, stumbling away as you blinked at the now vacant bathroom entry. You gaped, glancing towards the ceiling before focusing back on where the bathroom should be.  

The TARDIS never ceased to amaze you.

The Doctor’s face was pressed into a look of uncertainty as he stared at where the bathroom door should be. It was the most shocked you’d seen the Doctor in all the time you’d known him. His gaze fluttered in your direction, where his eyes narrowed on your shoulder, “that’s a Trico on your shoulder.”

It wasn’t a question. You hand flew up, where it indeed settled on the tiny little creature. You groaned aloud as Gizmo made a similar noise. You should’ve known he was going to cling to your clothes as you tried to get them all into the bathroom—that was how he found himself a home here.  

“I knew I heard barking,” the Doctor’s eyes blinked rapidly like he was trying to understand, “and it certainly wasn’t him—” the Doctor’s gaze settled on the Trico, “what else do you have in here?”

You let out a long sigh, moving towards where the bathroom door should be. “The jig is up,” you called loudly, and almost immediately; the bathroom door was back. You ignored the mystified look on the Doctor’s face as you pulled the door open and the dogs all trotted out, barely batting an eye at the Doctor’s shock.  

“You’ve brought dogs into my TARDIS,” the Doctor had a distant look in his eyes, “my TARDIS helped you hide these dogs from me. How did you turn my TARDIS against me?”

“I didn’t turn her against you,” you huffed, voice bordering on annoyed, “she just has a soft spot for dogs, I guess.”

You instantly felt bad, swallowing before you mended your words, “it really did start with just one, and then... well, how can you say no to them? Look at their little faces. And... I think the TARDIS really likes them too, because she’s been helping me out.”

“You stole a Trico--”

“Hey!” You frowned, “technically, the Trico stole himself. I didn’t know he was clinging to my sweater when we returned, he was just there. Look... I’m sorry.”

The dogs had all mad their way up to the bed, laying and watching the exchange. The little Trico though, refused to move from your shoulder. “They all just needed a place to be, like... like I did too when you found me. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” the Doctor’s voice was low, “frankly, I’m just a bit confused about why the TARDIS is so keen on these pets.”

“She’s a dog person—err, uhm, a dog time and space machine?”

The Doctor let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I suppose she is. She’s always had a soft spot for misfits.”

The Doctor doesn’t look unhappy, or upset. He looks thoughtful as his gaze sweeps over the dogs, lingering on both you and the Trico before he’d looking back to the earth dogs, “quite the collection.”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “so, uh, can we... can we keep them?”

“How long have they been here?”

“Teddy- the uh, the little white one- has been here about a month. Since that earth visit.”

“A month,” the Doctor’s face scrunched up, almost in disbelief, “I don’t see why not then. I doubt I have to tell you they’re your responsibility, which I’m sure isn’t a problem considering they already have been for an upwards of a month, right?”

“The TARDIS has been helping too,” you remind, smile slowly crawling onto your face.  

“I’m only allowing this because the TARDIS is so keen,” the Doctor informs, but you can see through his words. He always has a hard time saying no to you, the TARDIS just sealed the deal for him. “You’re lucky I love you,” his gaze casts upwards and his smile appears a little crooked, “the both of you.”  

<><><><>

Trico is the name of the Last Guardian, who wasn’t quite the inspiration behind the hybrid alien dogs, but I was picturing them looking a bit like Trico as I was writing. Body wise, at least, and I’m awful at naming things, and thought Trico would be a cool species name :). I thought an alien dog would be fun, since they travel space lol

The newborn stretches just the slightest bit, mouth opening into the cutest little yawn Alec’s seen in upwards of fifteen years. He stares down, unable to wipe the grin off his face as he watches the newborn move against the restraint of the swaddle he was tucked in.  

He carefully slips his hands under the newborn, lifting him cautiously before cradling him against his chest as he moves to the armchair he’d spent the past few evenings sleeping in after (Y/N) had been admitted towards the end of her pregnancy. He reclines back with the swaddled infant, just looking at his small face and rounded cheeks.  

His son makes little noises, and then his eyes are slivering open, unfocused and wide. He can’t see yet, Alec knows, but that doesn’t stop him from grinning at the child like he was a treasure to be found. One hand brushes along the infant’s cheek before settling to card through the soft tufts of hair on the baby’s head.

The baby had his mother’s eyes. Beautiful and bright, and Alec is immensely happy his son got one of (Y/N)’s prettiest features in his opinion. The baby’s hair, tufts of his own reddish-brown locks—a full head of hair that the nurses had smiled over when he was born.  

The baby’s nose definitely belonged to (Y/N), but most of his other little features Hardy remembers his little Daisy coming out with too. The side-by-side newborn comparison would be adorable—they could almost be twins, Alec’s sure.  

He hadn’t seen a more perfectly newborn since he’d held Daisy like this when she’d first come into the world. His heart hadn’t been this prideful, and happy since that very moment.  

He was holding his son this time around. His baby boy. He’d secretly always wanted a son too. The perfect combo—a daughter and a son—but then Sandbrook had happened and the divorce shortly after that. He’d never really thought he’d find another person he’d love enough to even consider having a child with.

Until he found (Y/N). He’d known from the moment he laid eyes on her that she was the one. She sparked feelings in him he hadn’t felt since he’d first started dating his ex-wife.  

Alec smiles fondly down at the newborn who stirs just the slightest bit, limbs giving the faintest struggle against the swaddle he’s wrapped in before he relaxes and settled back into sleep. He’s so cute Alec doesn’t know what to do with it.  

“You look adorable holding him,” (Y/N)’s voice mumbled from the bed, and it was only then that Hardy realized she was awake. Bleary eyes looking at him and their son, smile small but so incredibly real it made Alec grin in return.  

“The adorable is all this guy,” Alec replies, slowly sitting up straight and standing slowly to join you on the bed. “I assure you, that’s all his mother bleeding through in his features.”

“I don’t believe that,” your eyes lit up as they fell on the child in Alec’s arms, a fondness at seeing the man you love cradle your newborn son in his arms filling your chest, “he looks a lot like his daddy.”

Alec couldn’t argue with that. Pride blooms in his chest as he stares fondly at the baby in his arms, standing idly by your beside from a moment before leaning down cautiously.  

He carefully passed the newborn down into your arms, before perching on the edge of the bed to watch over the both of you. His arm eased around your shoulders, and you didn’t resist leaning into his side, cradling the baby to your own chest as you stared down at him. Alec couldn’t seem to drag his attention away either.  

This was the family you’d always wanted too. You’d always dreamed of having a baby with a perfect man. Alec was far from perfect, but he was the closest you’d come, and couldn’t have been happier than you were in this moment.  

“I didn’t know I could love anything as much as I love him,” you admitted quietly, tearing your eyes away from the baby to look up at Alec.

Alec gives a hum of agreement, just enjoying sitting with you and the newborn baby. It was the first time the three of you had sat together, since you’d been exhausted after delivering the baby and could hardly stay awake. The newborn had been whisked away to be cleaned up and have a checkup—being measured and weighed for the birth certificate.  

He’d only been brought back minutes prior to you waking up.  

Alec had stayed by your side, only stepping away to make phone calls—to Daisy, and Ellie and, well, that was about it—and to check in on little baby Hardy. You’d wanted to be the one to tell your friends and family, and doing so had slipped your mind, but you knew you’d get around to it soon, after the daze for your son’s birth finally settled.  

You didn’t really want to be overwhelmed by friends and family so soon after your son’s birth, but you’d get into contact with them because you knew they were itching to meet the baby.  

You’d managed to sleep after the baby had been born, but not much longer than a couple hours. You’d been awoken by the nurse who’d returned the newborn in the bassinet to your hospital room, leaving quietly as to not disturb your sleep after spending the night in labor.  

You weren’t exactly a light sleeper, nor a heavy sleeper, but you were certainly a light sleeper now that there was a small being depending on you. It was odd, how easily the wheels of the bassinet on the tiled flooring had woken you up, but you were glad considering you’d seen Alec being so soft with his newborn son.

You only wish you could’ve been around to see his first time being a daddy back when Daisy had been born. You couldn’t imagine him being anything but a doting father. Things had been a bit rocky for a while, when Alec had left Daisy with her mother when he’d first moved to Broadchurch, but you could tell he loved his daughter more than anything.  

And it was no different than how he was staring down at the baby boy in your arms.  

Alec reached over to stroke the baby’s cheek again, gazing down fondly, almost as if to prove your thoughts. His smile was light, but it stretched ear to ear, prideful and joyful as he gazed down at the child.  

“How does it feel to be a daddy again?”

“Amazing,” Alec breathed out, gaze finally pulling away from the baby to settle on you, “I... missed this. I missed her being so young; holdable. Teenagers aren’t quite as cuddly. He’s perfect, don’t you think?”

“Perfect,” you echo, leaning forward to press a kiss on the child’s head. “Speaking of Daisy, will she be coming to meet her new baby brother?”

“Yes,” Alex smiled with a fond laugh, arm reaching around your shoulders and fingers settling on the newborn’s swaddled feet, “she’s incredibly excited. I told her to finish up her classes for the day, but she’ll be catching a bus to Broadchurch this afternoon. I’ll be picking her up from the bus stop around six.”

“I’m glad,” you smiled. You’d been with Alec long enough that Daisy was practically your child too at this point. She spent weekends, most holidays and all long weekends down with the two of you, and had expressed on different occasions that she preferred to be with you and her father than with her mother.

You were sure her new baby brother would only add to the preference.

You loved the teenager, and she loved you as well. She’d been ecstatic when you and Alec had announced the pregnancy to her.  

Wrapping around the both of you and hugging you tightly. She even been spending her allowance from her mother on baby items she thought were cute and came down for a week to help the two of you build the nursery.

It was adorable how excited she was to have a sibling. Alec had been nervous that Daisy would’ve been upset, so seeing her so excited had definitely thrown him for a loop—especially as the young girl wrapped you in a hug as her father stood gaping.

“Millhur’s just waiting for the call to come meet him, won’t let up on it. Never seen her so excited.”

“Maybe in a few hours,” you let out a light laugh, eyes falling back to the now sleeping newborn, “Daisy should meet her baby brother first, but then I don’t mind Ellie coming around. Maybe she’ll have some words of advice for me, she went through this not that long ago.”

“Millhur’s always got advice,” Alec agreed fondly. His eyes settled on his son, “she says she’s got some of the boy’s old clothes for us if we’d like them. I know we’ve already got a full closet for him and all that stuff from the baby shower, but he definitely won’t stay this small for long.”

“Can’t hurt,” you shrug, trailing your fingers through the baby’s soft tufts of hair, “babies do grow like weeds.”

“Tell me about it,” Hardy jokes, “it feels like Daisy was this small just yesterday. Now she’s a teenager, and is interested in boys and... God, I don’t even want to know. I don’t think my heart could take it.”

You let out a light laugh, eyes still stuck on the baby.  

He didn’t have a name yet—it was a big decision. You and Alec had different name ideas, and could barely agree on anything past Alec for his middle name, even though Alec hated his first name. You liked it, and it was a nice little idea for him to have his dad’s name somewhere in his name.

His first name however, you were hoping would come to you after meeting the baby. You and Alec had bounced ideas around, Daisy even offering a couple on her last few visits. You’d even scoured the internet and baby books for name ideas, but none seemed right for you son.  

You stroked your fingers over the baby’s cheek, smiling down at him as Alec watched over your shoulder. “What do you think about Emmett?” you asked him softly.

The question was both to the baby, and to Alec, who’s face scrunched up thoughtfully.  

“Emmett...” He tested it, frowning, “Emmett... Emmett.”

You resisted the urge to laugh as the baby curled in closer to you, making a little grunting noise that melted your heart. Alec was still frowning hard when you glanced up at him, his face pulled back in disdain as he thought about the name, clearly trying to bring himself around to the idea of it.  

“Noh,” Alec shook his head, “Noh, I don’t like it.”

You did laugh at that. It was the same why he spoke about his own name, which was always a bit funny too you. “I don’t know, he seems to like it,” you teased.  

Alec furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at the newborn, who grunted once again, shifting in the swaddle almost as if he could feel eyes on him. The man deflated, hand coming down to stroke the baby’s rosy cheek, “you think?”

You shrugged, pulling your arms up so the baby was cradled closer to your neck as you leaned back into Alec, “I think he’ll like whatever we decide, don’t you?”

The man bit his bottom lip, gaze softening, “maybe Emmett wouldn’t be the worst?”

“So not off the table?” You teased with a laugh.  

“Well...” Alec cleared his throat, “maybe under the table on the floor?”

“I can live with that,” you snorted a laugh, leaning into Alec’s side, snuggling in even tighter. “I love you.”

Alec leaned over to press a kiss to the top of your head, “I love you too.”

His gaze dropped to the newborn, “and I love you too, little one.”

“Little Emmett,” you joked, wanting nothing more than to annoy Alec a little. You could tell he was already softening about the name suggestion despite his initial dislike.

“Don’t push it,” Alec laughed, settling his cheek on top of your head. “We’ll discuss it.”

<><><><>

Hopefully you liked this! Thanks once again for the request, and thanks for taking the time to read! As always, if it’s not what you were looking for, feel free to prompt again! 

If he’s honest, he’s never really had this kind of problem before. He’s had many companions, and more often than not, those companions tend to want more from him than he’s willing to allow himself to give. Rose, and Martha—Jack, even—they were all looking for more from him, and being what he is, and what he does, it’s not that simple to reciprocate feelings.  

They’ll all age and eventually die, whereas he’ll just move on to his next bout of regeneration with a broken heart he’ll have to try his hardest to keep under wraps.  

The Doctor knows that maybe (Y/N) showing such little interest in him is almost a good thing. Less heartbreak down the road when (Y/N) decides not to accompany him any longer, or, worse, when old age takes (Y/N) away like every other human before her. It’s inevitable, and he really should have a stronger hold on human life compared to TimeLord life, but the loss always knocks him down for a while.

It should be a good thing, but he just can’t seem to bring himself around to believing that it’s a good thing. Not when every time (Y/N) brushes off a gesture he’s thought over, and put time and effort into, it fills his hearts with an unfamiliar pain he hasn’t felt since losing his family and Gallifrey alike.  

It had taken him a while to notice he was even trying to win (Y/N) in a sort of courtship way. And it had taken even longer to realize he’d been doing it for about as long as he’d known (Y/N). It hadn’t seemed like it at the time, but looking back now, he can see how all the little comments and gestures were more than just friendly.  

But she’d been brushing his attempts off since early in their travels. Shooting him a smile, but turning away when anything too even the slightest romantic turn. Avoiding his eyes when he stared fondly, or laughing it off when a compliment slipped past his lips.

He really didn’t understand it.  

He could see the Gallifreyan romantic gestures confusing (Y/N), but the few earth gestures he’d picked up barely stirred anymore of a reaction than the Gallifreyan ones. He didn’t know where he was going wrong—how it was all being perceived the way it was. The wrong way. He wasn’t getting the reactions he wanted and... well, it hurt.  

Both his pride, and his hearts.  

It had started small with flowers—or, a flower. They were on a foreign planet, but he knew giving small gifts like a flower was one of the human gestures. So, he’d searched around while his companion was busy exploring, and located the loveliest flower he could find. It was mixtures of blues and purples; native to the planet but incredibly rare considering they only bloomed twice a year, for no longer that three days at a time.  

The flower had a sweet smell; one similar to those of sweets from earth. For a while, before he’d remembered Earth didn’t have this specific species of flower, nor were they advanced enough in space travel to find one, he’d assumed they’d used the attractive scent of the flower as a marketing technique to sell their sweets.  

The sugary smell Earth sweets had would always come second to the scent of this specific flower.  

The exchange had been short, and less than pleasurable if the Doctor’s honest. He’d found (Y/N) sitting on the ground, just taking the calming atmosphere of the planet. His heart stuttered in his chest before he finally took those last few steps towards her, where he settled at her side and cleared his throat to gain her attention.  

He’d held the flower out, rambling out facts as (Y/N) took the flower into her hands. She gave it a sniff, and fiddled with the stem and petals for a second before smiling down at it. She stared down at it, before looking back at him with an appreciative smile. He’d thought he’d won her over, but instead, she settled the flower on the ground beside her.  

His hearts had cracked as his companion’s hand fell away from the flower, leaving it on the ground as she returned her attention to the world around her. He’d swallowed thickly before sitting himself beside her, not bothering to mention the fact his gesture had gone unnoticed.

It was the same ordeal when he’d ordered (Y/N) a space delicacy from one of his favorite planets, where his companion had taken the treat into her hands and tasted it without a second thought. Smiling down at the treat, before shooting him light smile as she licked her lips.

He didn’t know why he’d been expecting—hoping for—anything more than the usual ‘Thank you’ he always received when he did something out of the ordinary for his companion, but the mumbled words had filled his with a sense of sadness.  

It was silly.  

But he kept trying.

The gestures just kept coming. It was barely a forethought anymore. An unconscious effort to try and win over his companion—seeking this relationship (Y/N) quite obviously didn’t want. It was a sad downward spiral, but he really couldn’t imagine not trying to woo her. He’d been at it for so long, not trying sounded foreign.

He tried just about anything he could to get any sort of reaction. Any hint that his companion knew what he was trying to do. Any acknowledgment that she understood that he was trying. He’d prefer blatant rejection to this... whatever this evasive attitude (Y/N) was expressing.  

Dinner in the stars.

Unique gifts from distant planets.

Various treats and snacks from wherever they happened to be.

He even tried to learn more about human things on earth. How humans went about stuff like this, and how it all differed from his Gallifreyan roots. Human courting was quite the oddity.  

He didn’t talk to many humans who weren’t his companions, or people he’d saved in some way or another, but the man who ran one of the shops had taken some time to educate him, but the Doctor had come out of that conversation more confused than he’d gone in.  

But on the bright side, (Y/N) had enjoyed the bag of sweets he’d awkwardly bought to stand at the register and chat with the friendly shopkeeper.  

He was still at a loss. Nothing seemed to be working. Nothing wooed his companion. He didn’t understand—couldn't see how not one single thing he’d tried had gotten (Y/N)’s attention.

But he still had one more thing up his sleeve.  

“Where are we going?” (Y/N) asked cautiously from the seat in the console room. The Doctor was doing his usual laps around the TARDIS console to what should be six TimeLord’s jobs simultaneously. He’d gotten good at it over the years, but there was still, occasionally, some rough kickbacks when he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

“It’s a surprise,” the man shot his companion a grin, pulling a lever. At this point, (Y/N) should be used to the surprises. He never got the kinds of reactions he was looking for, but he was still hoping that... maybe sometime he would. That something he planned would be the special one that could win his companion over.

(Y/N) didn’t reply, but continued to watch the Doctor how around the TARDIS like a madman.  

They weren’t far from the next greatest surprise the man had planned. They’d been travelling a little under an hour, and (Y/N) had only joined him in the console room ten-ish minutes prior, but he’d still refused to tell her where they were heading.  

(Y/N) was still quiet when the Doctor stabilized his space and time machine, checking everything twice before finally tugging his companion up by the hand and leading her towards the doors.  

He threw the doors open, grinning widely as he gazed around. Just as promised.  

It was a phenomenon really. A collection of heart shaped carbon monoxide ice chunks. No one was quite sure how they’d been formed, or whether someone had carved the hearts and left them to float in this tiny orbital pull in the middle of nowhere.  

It was a sight few saw—the Doctor had only heard of this place from chatter on a nearby planet, but he had to admit it was just as beautiful as he’d imagined. The ice glistened as the light casted from the TARDIS hit it, making them twinkle just as brightly as the stars in the background.

It was about as romantic as you could get.  

“Woah,” (Y/N) gaped at his side, and the Doctor turned to look, smile slowly lighting up his face as he watched his companion’s eyes travel from heart to heart. “What... what is this?”

“It’s carbon monoxide ice,” the Doctor informed softly, the smile on his face widening as his hearts thrummed in his chest. His companion had an astonished look on her face, eyes wide with childlike curiosity. “Like that of Mars in your solar system. No one’s really sure how they take shape but... well, they’re quite the sight.”

“It’s beautiful,” (Y/N) breathed out, almost like her breath was taken away by the sight.  

The Doctor had been told by many, had seen for himself as beauty takes away people’s breath. He’d been there too, once or twice with his current companion.  

He barely even caught his words as they left his mouth—his heart speaking before his brain had a chance to filter his words, “Like you.”

That was his moment of error, the Doctor noticed.

He frowned to himself as his companion slowly pulled themself away, shying away from his side and retreating back into the TARDIS with one last lingering glance at the ice. The Doctor’s hearts froze within his chest, as he watched uncertainly—unsure just how he’d managed to mess this one up as well.  

“It’s late,” (Y/N) muttered softly before leaving the Doctor alone in the TARDIS doorway, the man’s gaze locked on one lone heart with a barely noticeable crack down the center. It wouldn’t be long before the orbit around them pulled the frail pieces apart, severing the heart into two.  

The TimeLord forced a breath, squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment as he resided completely with the cracked heart.

He didn’t understand.  

The clumps of frozen carbon monoxide made his hearts hurt the longer he stared, so he was quick to follow on his companion’s footsteps, spinning on his heels and shuffling back inside, making sure to shut the doors behind him.

He wanted to flee this place, this failed attempt, but he couldn’t bring himself around to flying the TARDIS at the moment. He didn’t have the energy too. Like expected, (Y/N) had disappeared into the TARDIS, so the Doctor plopped heavily down on the seat.  

Maybe it was time to accept the fact that his companion did not reciprocate his feelings. That he was barking up the wrong tree. He’d thought that they were... but maybe he was wrong.  

The Doctor stared up at the TARDIS ceiling, his space and time machine giving a little hum as if she could feel his worries and mood. His hand patted the back of his seat halfheartedly as a promise that he was okay.  

It had never been this hard with any other companion. There was just something so special about (Y/N). Something he wanted to get closer too, even though he knew he’d end up hurt in the end. Something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get now.  

Maybe it was time to settle this once and for all. His gestures were overlooked, or, maybe even ignored. As much as it hurt to admit, (Y/N) didn’t seem very enthused with anything he’d done. Maybe it was the human not understanding what he was trying to do—but humans tended to like words.

--

The Doctor from (Y/N) in her room, perched on the edge of her bed. (Y/N)’s attention raised when the Doctor announced his arrival with a sturdy knock on the slivered-open door. The knock pushed the door in enough for the Doctor to poke his head in.  

“Do you, uh, have a moment?” He asked cautiously, almost ready for the rejection he’d been living with for the better part of travelling with (Y/N). He’d grown used to it, but it still tugged at his heart strings. She’d never deny him conversation, but he could still see and feel her pulling away from him.  

“Of course,” (Y/N) sat up a little more, giving the Doctor her full attention. “What’s the matter?”

He hadn’t thought this far ahead, the Doctor realizes as he shifts from foot to foot in (Y/N)’s doorway, mind vacant of any thoughts. (Y/N) tilted her head at the Doctor’s odd silence, studying him from her spot, “Doctor...? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” the man cleared his throat. Then did so a second time before continuing, “I wanted to, uhm, know what you thought about the, uh,” he gestured broadly behind him, hoping his companion could piece his question together.

“The ice hearts?”

It was a good thing his companion was so clever.

“Yes, the hearts.” The Doctor nods, fingers tapping awkwardly against his side. “Did you... did you like them?”

“They were beautiful,” (Y/N) repeated once again, fidgeting with her own fingers, “it was a bit unexpected, but... yeah, I did. Thanks for showing me them.”

The man gave a nod, but didn’t voice anything. If he thought his voice would’ve come out naturally instead of the anxious waver he was sure would be there, he definitely would’ve replied with a soft ‘My pleasure,’ because it really was his pleasure to introduce (Y/N) to the beauty of the galaxy.  

There was an unsettling moment of silence where neither really knew what to say.  

It was the Doctor who broke it, staring at his shoes as he finally allowed the words he’d been stewing over out, “do you... not like me, (Y/N)?”

“What?” the surprise was prominent. The word rang out for a second before the Doctor lifted his gaze to settled on (Y/N)’s shocked, tense frame. Her muscles were stiff, body sitting up straighter and more alert than she had been when he’d first asked to talk. “I like you plenty,” (Y/N) assured quickly, “what gave you the idea I didn’t?”

There was a list, really. He could count things off on his fingers, but he wasn't here to be petty. The man bit his lip, leaning against the doorframe to support his weight. He honestly just wanted to know why (Y/N) was so evasive every time he so much as tried to woo her.  

“You... well, uh, you never seem to care,” he made sure to word it carefully, “I... I’m not sure if you even notice, or ignore it, or what. I just, I need you to be honest with me. Why haven’t you... reciprocated any feelings?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Doctor,” (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and one ankle crossed over the other as she leaned forwards in interest.

“Since I met you,” the Doctor swallowed, “I’ve been... I don’t know how to say it but, trying to court you, I suppose? That’s not really something humans do, but it is something TimeLords do. It’s just that... every attempt I’ve made... every try I’ve made to do something cute, or romantic, you brush it off. You’re evasive, and... I’d just like to know if that’s because you don’t reciprocate my feelings. If you don’t feel the same, we can just put this all behind us.”

“It’s not like that,” (Y/N)’s voice was quiet, a near whisper, “please don’t think it’s because I don’t like you. I do, Doctor. I just... I wasn’t sure.”

“Weren’t sure?” The man furrowed his eyebrows, “sure about what?”

“I didn’t want to risk our friendship. I noticed everything, the flower you gave me, the sweets. All the dinners, and the... the dates. Today with the ice hearts even. I didn’t know how to admit I liked you when there was a chance you didn’t like me back the same way. I don’t know what I’d do if I ruined this.”

“But the gestures and dates?” the Doctor frowned, finally stepping into (Y/N)’s room and sitting on the edge of her bed beside her. He’d thought he was being obvious.

“Very obvious,” his companion let out a little laugh, “and I should’ve known, but I was scared. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. This adventure is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I didn’t want to compromise that by admitting my feelings.”

He could understand that, a bit. “So... you do like me too?”

“Of course,” (Y/N)’s smile was soft, “a lot, Doctor. I just... didn’t know how to reciprocate it without there being a possibility that everything could fall through, and we’d ruin our relationship in the process. I know you were offering it, but I was nervous. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” the Doctor chastised quietly. He paused for a second before speaking again, “I’m having a hard time believing this is real,” he admitted with a tilt of his head, “you really acknowledged it all? I... never noticed.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) smiled softly, “and I have proof it wasn’t all in vain, Doctor.” (Y/N) stood up from her spot on the bed, and moved towards her book shelf. It housed a few books, and some trinkets she’d found on their travels and liked. She continued speaking as she searched through the books, “I really enjoyed everything you put together for me since I met you. I wasn’t sure you were really doing it all to be romantic at first but... the hearts today really summed that up for me.”

The man watched as she tugged on one of the book’s spines, pulling it from the shelve and holding it in her hands for a second before she waving to retake her seat. She started flipping through the pages, so the Doctor leaned over her shoulder to watch.  

“Here,” she stopped on a page towards the middle of the book. The Doctor refrained from gaping as his companion carefully pulled that singular flower he’d given her all that time ago from the book. The room was instantly filled with that sweet, alluring scent and his hand shook as he took the pressed flower into his fingers by the delicate stem.

“I thought you left this,” he admitted softly, studying the vibrant colours that had stayed even after being pressed into the book. He hadn’t noticed her bringing the flower back. Had really thought she’d left it on that planet and ignored the gesture entirely.  

“I couldn’t,” his companion sighed, “it was selfish, even if I didn’t want to ruin what we had, I wanted to keep it to remember the moment. To remember you, even if we did at some point part ways.”

“You’re brilliant,” the Doctor breathed out, finally passing the flower back like it was as precious as a crown jewel or something. “So incredibly brilliant, (Y/N).”

(Y/N)’s cheeks flushed and she ducked her head away from his gaze, but it was different than the usual brushing away of his gestures. Something was different now.  

They hadn’t cleared it all up, that was for sure. He still had questions, and she still had doubts. They didn’t quite understand each other yet, but it hadn’t all been in vain like he’d thought. She’d seen it all. Acknowledged it, even if not to him. His hearts swelled as he smiled lightly.

There was still a lot they needed to discuss, but for right now, the Doctor just wanted to spend a bit of time with his companion—without all the hassle of their rightful doubts and insecurities.

“Do you think we could... spend a little while longer looking out at the frozen carbon monoxide outside before we leave? It really is quite pretty, and... maybe we can talk about this more later?”

“I’d... love that, Doctor.”

“Good. Uh, great,” he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. His companion giggled at him, but he didn’t mind in the slightest, “allons-y, (Y/N).”

<><><><>

Once again, sorry this took so long! I’m hoping to keep this momentum going and keep getting out the requests in waiting! I hope you all liked this fic, it was a bunch of fun to write! I thoroughly enjoyed creating the frozen carbon monoxide hearts, so I hope you all liked that as well!

You returned the favor, setting teas on his desktop whenever he was out and about, waiting for him when he returned from the chill of the late morning—you always got one for Ellie as well, and she always gave you a wide grin as she put on a show of sipping it.  

Most of the time Hardy would duck his head when he noticed it, but a few times he’d smiled at you. You weren’t always around when he’d return, even if you tried to be. Sometimes he snuck in while you were swamped with work.  

You weren’t quite sure where the two of you stood.  

He’d said some really sweet things to you, and you’d almost gotten the feeling that they two of you were on an almost date, but you weren’t sure. Hardy was a peculiar lad. You knew he liked you, but you weren’t sure if he like liked you...  

God, you sounded like a middle schooler with a crush thinking things like that.  

But the things he’d said had made your heart flutter in such a warm way—it was hard to forget. The thought of him made you smile, and you couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach when you'd come into work to find you fellow secretaries giving you that knowing look before you were could catch on the paper beverage cup with your name scrawled across the side if the cup.

You still hadn’t gotten the chance to really thank him for what he’d done. It would’ve been easy enough to just walk out the door, but he’d gone the extra mile to invite you along. It was nice to know that at least one of your co-workers kept you in mind and noticed when you weren’t quite right.  

You weren’t sure how to thank him for it, if you were honest.  

It had been one of your fellow receptionists who’d proposed inviting him for a meal back at your place. That had been accompanied by a raised eyebrow and a similar knowing glance.

The thought of inviting the man who was technically a boss of yours over to your home had seemed foreign at first, but you’d quickly warmed up to the idea. You liked to cook, and you’d been told by friends and family you were pretty good at cooking.  

Now you just needed to figure out how and when to invite him. Despite the two of you working together, and leaving each other little offerings of beverages, you’d never seen him not completely focused on Danny Latimer’s case.  

And whenever you happened to see him on his way in, or out, you were usually completely busy with phone calls, paperwork and townsfolk being annoyed that they actually had to wait to speak to an officer.  

He’d still shoot you a tiny smile, and sometimes a wave of his hand that was more or less just a flick of his hand, when he happened to catch your eyes across the room. It was the little things like that that made you heart skip a beat.

Hardy was alone in his office when you finally worked up the gall to ask him to your place for dinner. The door was open ajar, and when Ellie had seen you hesitating by the doorway, she’d shot you a grin and gestured you in from her desk.  

You took a breath and pushed the door open, tapping your fingers on the door as a warning as you entered. He didn’t look up from his computer even as the door squeaked. “I told you to run through those cases before coming back, Millhur. You’d can’t possibly have finished already- and if so, go again.”

“Not Ellie,” you bit the inside of your cheek, shuffling where you were standing.

Hardy’s attention shot up from the computer and he stumbled to stand up, “oh, ah, oh, sorry ‘bout that... What can I do for you, (Y/N)?”

He moved around his desk to lean against the other side, arms looking for something to do before he settled for crossing them across his chest. You hid a smile, stepping closer into the room, but still keep your distance.  

“I uh, I never did thank you for... y’know, that night...”

“Oh,” Hardy blew out a breath, head ducking in an understanding nod. His hair fell over his eyes as his head turned downwards, “you don’t have to thank me, really, I’m glad I could help. And... I had a good time to, you were good company after a long day.”

You hoped your cheeks didn’t flush as brightly as they felt like they did at the tenderness in his voice, “I uh, well, I wanted to invite you over for dinner as a- a thank you? You were so kind when no one else even noticed and... I’d like to return the favor?”

“Dinner?” Hardy raised an eyebrow, looking unsure. His arms uncrossed, but instead his palms settled on the desk as he leaned back thoughtfully. He was contemplating it, and you had half a mind to wave him off, and offer an easy out.  

“You don’t have too-”

“No,” Hardy said easily before wincing back like he hadn’t meant to be quite so abrupt, “uhm, I mean, I’d like to come have dinner with you... if you’re sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I’m sure,” you promise with a surprised smile. It’s small, but happy. Hardy returns a smaller one, body relaxing just slightly where he’s leaning against his desk. “Are you free tonight? Or, uh, when are you free?”

“No, I’m free tonight,” he nods, smiling at how flustered you are. It’s weird, you decided, but not a bad weird. Just... strange. He isn’t much better, just as antsy as you, but you’re hanging onto the hope that inviting him over will result in the same light conversation and easy atmosphere as it had when the two of you had grabbed dinner at the Trader’s Hotel.

It had been a lovely evening, and when the two of you had let yourselves let your guards down, you’d had a good time together. Hopefully tonight would play out the same.

“Perfect,” you give a light laugh, playing with your fingers in front of you, “does six work for you? I uh, I get off at five today.”

“How about six-thirty?” Hardy offers awkwardly, looking apologetic, “Millhur and I’ll be going to check out a lead on the Danny Latimer case, and I don’t expect us to be back before six at the latest. Wouldn’t want to be late...”

“Six-thirty works,” you chirp, flashing him a grin. “That’s perfect...” you rattle off your address for him, before stepping back towards the doorway, “so, uh, see you tonight then?”

“See you tonight,” he nods, finally stepped away from his stiff lean against the desk.  

You slip out the door as Hardy returns to his desk. He gives you a small wave as you pull the door shut behind you. You let out a nervous breath.  

When you turn around, you’re met with a grinning Ellie Miller, “so... how’d it go?”

----

You’d waved Alec and Ellie out when they’d left on the lead that Hardy had mentioned. Ellie gave you a thumbs up, and Alec’s eyes shifted from you to Ellie, where his attention dulled to annoyance. She didn’t seem phased by it, and you didn’t doubt that he wasn’t always so stiff around her.

You wondered what made you so different to literally everyone else in the building that Hardy barely gave the time of day too as you typed out some documents to be sent up to the officers.  

You returned home by five fifteen, in a rush to get started on food. You didn’t know a lot about Hardy, and you certainly didn’t know what he liked. You remember Ellie mentioning something about him barely ever accepting food from her, and that he tended to not accept anything greasy,

You settled on remaking what he’d ordered that night at the Trader’s Hotel. He hadn’t eaten much of it, but he’d ordered it, so he had to have liked it.  

You found a bottle of wine you’d stashed away that had been a gift from someone at some point, but you couldn’t quite remember who’d given it to you. It would be good for tonight though, and compliment the meal. You hoped.

When the meal was cooking, and your place had been tidied up for company, you disappeared upstairs to change into something a bit nicer.  

A knock on your door came at exactly six-thirty. You smile to yourself at Alec being so punctual. It fit his character; you decide.  

You rushed to the door, smoothing your clothes down before pulling the door open and flashing a smile at your guest. For a second, he looks like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. He brushed himself out of his shock, letting a small smile curl on his lips at the sight of you.

He ducks his eyes away from you as he shifts from foot to foot. There’s a bottle of wine in one of his hands and a small bouquet of tulips in the other. He looks uncertainly between his hands before his eyes raised to your face, “hello.”

“You’ve brought flowers?” You blinked, shaking your head and smiling to yourself at the small act that had your heart beating out of your chest, “they’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, uh,” Alec swallowed nervously, “I wanted to bring chocolates as well, but Millhur told me it was weird. I don’t... y’know,” he gestured the hand holding the wine bottle between the two of you, “much. Should’ve brought more?”

“No,” you told him, “this is sweet, thank you.” He hands you the flowers and you take them into your hands and hold them against your chest, “please come in.”

He follows you through the threshold, toeing his shoes off as he goes. He follows you into the kitchen, setting the wine beside the one you’d found earlier, while you work on finding a vase for the flowers. They’re beautiful and easily make you heart skip a beat.  

“This smells delicious,” Hardy’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. It’s an honest comment, and means a lot coming from Hardy—even if it is just pleasantries.  

“Oh, thank you,” you let out a light laugh, moving to set the flowers on the table as a center piece. “I wasn’t sure what to make, so I went with what you ordered because I know you like it. Ellie mentioned you didn’t much like greasy foods, so... I hope this is okay?”

“Yes, of course,” Hardy nods, standing off to the side of the counter before he pauses, “you asked Millhur about me?”

“Uhm,” you let out a nervous laugh as you rubbed the back of your neck, “yeah... I just wanted to make sure I made something you’d like as well and... she spends the most time with you, so I thought I’d see what she suggested?”

The look on Alec’s face is an emotion you can’t quite place; or maybe it’s a mix of a few. You don’t know him well enough to decipher what emotions are crossing his features. His eyes are following you uncertainly, like he doesn’t really believe you’re real. He’s leaning against the counter with his hands intertwined together in front of him.  

“Should be done now, are you ready to eat?” Alec shakes himself from his stupor as you move towards the meal you prepared. You grab the pot of your dinner off the stove top and direct Alec to grab the salad bowl from the fridge. You grab two wine glasses, as well as the bottle Hardy brought and take those to the table where Hardy is seating himself.

You take the other seat.  

You both serve yourselves the food.

The first few minutes are quiet while you eat, and then Alec offers a soft, “this is really good, (Y/N),” and from there conversations sparks.  

It’s light and easy, like you’d hoped. That same atmosphere from the bar, but in the safety of your home which made it even better. You spend some time getting to know each other, talking softly between bites of food and sips of wine.  

“A daughter?” you ask, taking a bite of food. He’d been talking about a few of his favorite cases from his time working at Sandbrook, and had mentioned his Ex, and daughter.  

Conversations had taken a more intimate turn this time around than when the two of you were at the hotel. Maybe It's because Becca’s not eavesdropping from across the room, but Hardy seems more at ease. It didn’t feel odd to ask, and you were genuinely curious about him and his life.

“Yes,” he nods, lifting his glass to his lips, a smile on his lips at the thought of his child, “Daisy. She, ah, she lives with her mother in Sandbrook still. I... I don’t get to see her often. I don’t have a lot of free time—especially not with the Danny Latimer case active. She’s, ah, she’s fifteen.”

“Daisy sounds lovely.” You smile as you take a sip of your own wine. You’d both steadily made your way through a glass each, and Hardy had topped you both your glasses up. “We're lucky to have people like you and Ellie who are putting so much time and effort into finding the person who did that to him... It can’t be easy to leave her, and I know Ellie misses her boys during the long days and late nights.”

Hardy gave a little nod, attention on his plate. He’d eaten a lot more of his food than he had at the hotel. You’re happy he likes it, from what you’ve heard from Ellie he’s very picky. The wine he’d brought it very good too, and accompanies the meal better than the one you had on hand would’ve.

The two of you continue to chat while you enjoy your meals.  Hardy told you a bit more about some of his favorite cases, and the odd arrests he’d made back before he was a Detective Inspector. You, in turn, told him a bit about yourself, and your friends and family. Your receptionist job wasn’t very exciting, but you had good stories to share from other aspects of your life.  

The two of you finished up dinner, but continued talking over the wine when the food was gone.  

Hardy was actually pretty good company. Maybe it had been the fact that Becca was watching the two of you the last time you’d shared a meal, but here and now, he seemed to be letting himself relax just the slightest.  

“It really was quite good,” he told you with a smile as he set his cutlery on his finished plate. Your heart thrummed pridefully at the fact he’d finished his meal, unlike at the hotel where he’d eaten very little. “Thank you for this, it’s been lovely.”

“It’s no problem,” you told him, turning your head to hide your cheeks heating up. You stood gracefully, grabbing your own plate, before reaching over to grab Alec’s as well. “I’ll just get the dishes.”

He pulled his plate back before you could take it, following your lead and standing as well. “Let me help.”

You opened your mouth to promise it was fine, and that you didn’t need any help. He was a guest after all, and this was a thank you of sorts for being so kind to you—letting him wash the dishes with you didn’t really scream ‘Thank you!’ or express your gratitude for him being so much different than everyone else working at that building.

“I insist,” he watched you with a light smile, “please? You cooked for me, so I should at the very least help you tidy up?”

You couldn’t say no to that.

Hardy was good at washing dishes. You dried between tidying everything up, putting things away as you dried them. Conversation was still light and fun, and it didn’t even really feel like you were doing chores with Alec.  

While he was distracted with the pot you’d cooked the meal in, you couldn’t help but take him all in. Stood at your sink with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His suit jacket had been abandoned on the back of his chair. He was so focused on the dishes he didn’t even notice your attention straying to him, fond smile on your lips.  

You’d never really imagined a domestic Alec Hardy, but now that you were seeing it, you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to forget it. He was just so much different from DI Hardy. Still the same personality, awkwardness and quirks, but he was more relaxed. He smiled more, and didn’t seem quite so uptight—which you assumed just came with the position of DI.  

“(Y/N)?” he called, and you forced your attention back. He was holding out a wet wine glass, with one eyebrow raised curiously. He smiled as you took the glass with a sheepish grin, turning back to the sink and picking up one of the few remaining dishes.  

Together you tided up the kitchen like it hadn’t even been used that day. It was nice to not have to worry about doing it later, or even the following morning before you headed to work.  

“It’s already nine?” Alec’s voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned to look at where he was glancing at the time on your microwave. You really hadn’t thought it was so late.  

“Time really flies,” you mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in surprise.

“Indeed,” Alec gave a light laugh, “I guess I should be on my way then.”

You thought about inviting him to stay later, but then you remember your early morning tomorrow, and you assume Alec will be getting in around the same time as you. You need some sleep if you plan on functioning tomorrow.  

“Did you need a ride home?” you ask as you follow him to the dining room to retrieve his jacket. He shakes his head with a light smile as he slips the coat on.

“You’ve already done enough tonight. Dinner was lovely, and I couldn’t ask you to drive me back to the hotel. I don’t mind the walk, it’s not too far anyways.”

You fight down the rejection in his words, smiling anyways. “Alright.”

You lead Alec to the door, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him step out into the chill of the night. You don’t really want him to go. 

You wonder where the two of you stand, even after this dinner. Will things just go back to the way they’d been before like after he took you out to dinner? Did this mean something? You’d hoped this could’ve... maybe led to more, but he doesn’t seem keen on it. “Goodnight, Alec.”

The man turns back to you with a little smile before stepping back through the threshold of the house, cupping the side of you jaw with his hand as he pressed his lips against yours. You’re stunned for a second, but then you’re kissing back, smiling into it.  

He pulls back first, leaving you breathless. His hand lingers for a moment, before he’s letting his touch fall away and he’s slipping his hand into his pocket, “goodnight.”

You watched with lidded eyes in an almost stunned silence as Alec disappears into the night. You watch his retreating back as you lift your fingers to touch against your tingling lips, smiling softly as you replay the kiss in your mind.

When he’s gone from sight, you shut your door, lock it and then lean against it with a happy sigh.  

You don’t have to wonder where you stand with Alec Hardy anymore; he’s made that completely obvious.

<><><><>

Thank you so much for taking the time to read! I hope this was suffice? It was fun to write, so thank you for the prompt!

Then any other adventure. 

You couldn’t for the life of you remember which planet the Doctor had been raving about when he’d landed the TARDIS. You’d followed along like you always did, excited for the adventure, but with that small inkling of doubt in the back of your mind.  

He’d taken your hand with a wide smile and led you along. He talked your ear off, telling you of the planet’s history, the inhabitants. His personal favorites about the planet. You liked listening to him, listening to him ramble and gesture enthusiastically about what interested him.  

And then you were running.  

You were starting to think that there wasn’t a place in the universe where the Doctor wasn’t at least one person’s target. Where he hadn’t accidentally wronged someone.  

He’d dragged you along by your hand before you’d come to a fork in the road. He’d looked both directions calculatingly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before chancing a glance back at you. Then, his eyes seemed to go through you and to whomever happened to be chasing you, which seemed to make some sort of decision for him if the way his eyes hardened was anything to go off.  

His hand broke away from yours, and then he was giving you the slightest push towards one side of the fork with flustered order of “Go!” falling from his lips as he turned hurriedly and shot down the other road.

Your feet moved on autopilot as you sprinted down the path he’d directed you towards, instantly missing the warmth and comfort of the Doctor’s hand in your own. You weren’t sure how long you continued down the road. How long you ran—how far you got.  

You were sure no one was chasing you. You couldn’t hear any other sounds besides your own feet pounding along the gravel, and you heart thrumming in your chest in both exertion and anxiety.  

They wanted the Doctor, not you. Whatever it was the man had done to wrong these people, it had been long before you’d started travelling with him. Long before you’d even met the man.  

That still didn’t stop the clawing worry in your stomach. Was the Doctor okay? Would he come find you? Would he find you?  

What if he wasn’t okay? What if you’d be stranded here forever? Not only did you not think you’d ever be able to make it back to the TARDIS, but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to get her to fly even if you did somehow make it back.  

You weren’t a Timelord. The TARDIS wouldn’t fly for you, even if you tried.

You’d be stranded here.

Somewhere deep in the back of your mind a tiny voice was whispering to trust the Doctor. He hadn’t gotten the two of you into any serious danger yet. He took care of you, and you’d never been injured beyond bruises and scrapes. He always came for you. Always found you and swept you back into the TARDIS and far away from the threat.  

He’d always taken care of you--

But the larger, louder calling in your head shouted your fears. He wouldn’t find you. He was dead. They’d captured him. You were alone. Alone on a planet you didn’t even know the name of. You’d never see the Doctor again. You’d never see your friends and family, or planet again.

You were stranded.

Your movements slowed, and before you could fight to keep yourself up, your knees buckled under you. You fell to the dirty road below; your knees and hands scraping on the gravel.  

You were stuck here. On this strange planet. Without the Doctor.  

Alone.

You crawled to the side of the road, hiding yourself the best you could manage in a bush of some sort. It dug uncomfortably into your body, but you couldn’t be bothered. What did it matter?

A gaspy cry fell from you lips as you coiled in on yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as you buried your face in the fabric of your pants. It was a sinking feeling of loneliness—fear of the unknown environment.

You could barely force in any air. It felt like you were dying. This was it. You were going to die of lack of oxygen—which was weird considering the Doctor had told you this planet had the same atmosphere as earth. There was plenty of oxygen, but you couldn’t manage to suck any in.  

You struggled for each gasp of air you got.

Your head was an uncomfortable mix of lightheadedness and pounding headache, and you were sure you were crying. Tears slipping down your cheeks as your thoughts consumed you. The bigger, louder voice washing over the tiny pleading one like a title wave.  

How were you going to make it out of this? How would you survive this strange alien planet without the Doctor by your side? Your fingers subconsciously dug into your forearms where they were wrapped around your legs, holding your knees snug against you.  

“(Y/N)!” You heard, but it sounded far away. Far away and drown out. Why did it feel like you were underwater? You struggled to suck in another breath as a foreign touch settled on your hand, curling to just slightly grip around yours, “you need to take a breath, c’mon, deep in...”

You tried to steady your thoughts, taking a stuttery intake of air like the voice suggested, and it was quick to cool your lungs down. That suffocating feeling eased the slightest amount. The soft voice talking you through this was steadying you—anchoring you back, “good, good, my dear, now out? You’re doing perfect.”

It took a second before you let yourself blow out the air in your lungs, “perfect,” the voice told you, soft and comforting, “very good, another one? Nice and slow, alright? Breath with me, in and out.”

You sucked in another breath, waited for the hand around yours to tighten just the slightest before blowing that breath out too. Now that you could breathe through the mist of anxiety, you were desperate to pull in more air. You weren’t sure how long you’d been lost—unsure how long you’d gone without a decent breath.  

“Good,” the voice whispered lowly as a second hand settled on your forearm, thumb rubbing softly along your arm, “you’re doing brilliantly, (Y/N). Come back to me now, alright?”

You weren’t sure where you’d gone, but you’d try for the voice.  

You forced your eyes open, unsure when you’d really shut them. You couldn’t remember squeezing them shut, but it was almost a relief when you let your face relax. You continued with the deep breaths, replaying the words that had been spoken to you in your head—in and out.

Before you, dropped in a panicked kneel, was the Doctor. He looked out of breath, and frantic. Worried eyes searching your face for... you weren’t sure what he was looking so intently for. The worry didn’t look quite right on the usually so confident and narcissistic man.  

It was definitely the Doctor though.

“Doctor?” you wheezed out, uncoiling just enough to settle a hand on his chest to test if he was real or not. You hand flattened against him, and then one of his hands was pulling away from you to settle over top of your hand.

“I’m here,” he promised, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’m here now. You’re alright.”

You let yourself fall forwards into him with the confirmation that it was him. That the Doctor was real before you. Alive. Here. You weren’t stranded. You weren’t alone anymore. A rush of that suffocating separation anxiety flowed out with your next heaving breath.  

You buried your face in his suit jacket as his arms wrapped tightly around you, “keep breathing, love, alright? Deep breaths for me.”

It was easier to suck in the breaths with the Doctor in close proximity. Even if it really should be harder to get any air through his clothes. You managed to wrap your arms around him too, holding him close.  

The two of you were at an awkward angle, the Doctor still on his knees in front of you, and you in an awkward mess of desperate limbs. Neither of you seemed to mind the odd position much. The longer you sat, the stiffer you got, but it was the furthest thing from your mind.  

“You’re doing so good,” the Doctor whispered into your hair, “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

“You’re okay,” you whimpered out against his jacket.

“I am,” the Doctor agreed tenderly, “it was a misunderstanding. I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re both okay, alright? Deep breaths.”

You just curled yourself in closer to him, afraid that you’d lose him if you let go. Your thoughts still ran rampant in your head, anxious and panicked, but the longer you forced in breaths, and sat in the Doctor’s arms with his hands trailing along your back and petting down your hair, the more everything eased away.  

The Doctor didn’t say much else as you slowly calmed down in his arms. With your breaths finally starting to even out, he didn’t keep reminding you. But whenever you slowed, or swallowed a shallow intake, he’d calmly remind you again.  

You didn’t know how long the two of you sat there on the ground, on some planet you didn’t even remember the name of. The Doctor made no move to get up, to move, and to speak until you’d calmed. Until you were okay, and breath steadily.  

“I’m sorry.” The Doctor told you once more, his chin settled on the top of your head as he held you close.  

“What for?” You finally asked when it no longer felt like you were fighting for every breath. His heart beats below your ear calmed you down, focused your attention. Reminded you he was here. That even if your head was telling you that you were alone, that you definitely weren’t.  

“We shouldn’t have split up,” the Doctor told you, “I should’ve kept you with me, but I needed you to be safe, and I knew they were after me, and not you, so I sent you away.”

“I thought you were gone,” you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing another breath just because you could, “I thought you were gone, and I didn’t know where I was. I... I thought I’d be stuck here forever. I was alone.”

“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. We should’ve stayed together. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). It was stupid, I know you’re different from other companions, and I still thrusted you into something that made you uncomfortable. I just needed you to be okay.”

“I’m okay,” you breathed out, but you weren’t sure if that was his sake, or a reminder for yourself. You’d never had a panic attack quite as heavy. Never one that broke you down like this one had.  

“You’re okay,” the Doctor repeated, tightening his hold. You didn’t know if he really believed your words—his tone was pretty neutral. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you. I’ll always come for you okay?”

“Okay,” you swallowed, letting your forehead settle against his chest.

“Think you’re okay to stand? You weren’t hurt, were you?”

“No,” you shook you head, pulling away enough to look up at the Doctor, “I’m okay... you were right, no one came after me. I... I just, I tripped, I think.”

You pulled your hands away to look down at them, frowning at the scratches from the gravel. The Doctor took your hands into his own, leaning away just enough to look down at your palms. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” you told him with a small laugh that didn’t sound quite right. Not as okay as you’d hoped it would’ve. You ignored the kicked-puppy look the Doctor shot in your direction as you pushed yourself up, using the Doctor’s shoulder as support before offering a hand to help him up too.  

It wasn’t his fault—he'd been protecting you. You’d always been a bit clingy anyways. The separation anxiety wasn’t new either—you'd just... never expected it could get so much worse on a planet that wasn’t your own. Being alone on a planet that you didn’t know; one not even in your own galaxy had hit you harder than ever.  

The Doctor took your offered hand, accepting the help up, but he didn’t look convinced by your words.

The need to not let go was clearly just as evident in him as it was in you. You went to pull you hand back after he was standing, but he didn’t let up his grip. You didn’t mind though, just squeezing his hand in return.

He pulled you closer by your hand, only letting go when you were close enough to wrap his arms around. This hug was a lot more comfortable, standing instead of whatever odd sitting thing you’d been doing before. You could push closer, and he held you tighter.  

You tucked in against his body much easier.

You melted into the embrace, letting him hold you. You weren’t sure if it was for your sake at this point, or his own, but you didn’t question it. Whether for him, or for you, it was a tenderness you needed right now. Comfort and protection from the Doctor.

“You scared me,” the Doctor whispered against your head.  

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you murmured.

He pulled back enough to cup your face in his hands, thumbs trailing under your eyes with a feathery touch, wiping away the tear tracks with a frown, “I didn’t think my plan through, and it put you at risk, even if it wasn’t my intention. The need to make sure you were safe was stronger than the logic that you don’t know this planet. That I was pushing you into the unknown.”

“I know you were trying to protect me, I just...”

“Not the right way,” the Doctor decided. You felt him gave a light shake of his head, “it’s not protecting you if it manifests like this, (Y/N). It was the wrong choice because you panicked, because of me. I won’t do that again, I assure you.”

“No more splitting up?” You tilted your head at him. It made you feel very clingy, and you were sure your voice sounded more relieved than you would’ve liked, but the Doctor just gave you a tiny smile, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.  

“No,” he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, “no more splitting up—especially not on planets you don’t know. I can’t promise we’ll never get separated again, but I can promise I’ll always keep you safe, and I’ll always find you again.”

“I know,” you swallowed, nuzzling up against him and pulling him back into a tight hug. “I trust you.”

“I’m glad,” you could hear the playful smile in the Doctor’s voice, “now, what do you say we head back to the TARDIS and get off this planet. We can clean your hands up too.”

“Sounds good,” you returned the small smile. You wiped your hands against your pants halfheartedly.  

The Doctor wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side easily. You curled in close, pressing the side of your face against his side. His thumb swept along your shoulder, arm keeping to tight and sheltered against him.  

Protective, but comforting all the same.Comforting to the both of you.

<><><><>

Heyy! Thanks for taking the time to read this! I hoped you liked it! As always, if it wasn’t what you were looking for, feel free to prompt me again!

It wasn’t usually as bad as it had been the past couple days-- you’d just run into some problems on the planet, and were unfortunately unable to leave as quickly as you would’ve liked. You and the Doctor had been stranded, in near constant danger for the better part of two days before you’d managed to escape to the TARDIS and make a quick getaway.  

You weren’t even sure you’d done anything wrong, but perhaps the Doctor had at some point or another and it was just his past catching up with him. And you’d just kinda been roped along for the journey.  

It still ran you ragged. The past couple days. You wanted to flop into your bed, and never get up. To hibernate for at least a week before you were ready to join the world of the living again.  

You knew you couldn’t though, even though the Doctor would probably let you and not say anything about it, because he was just so soft with you. The thought of it just didn’t sit right with you though, no matter how good the offer looked. It would be a waste. Not everyone got what you got—to see space, and time, and travel with the last Timelord in existence. It really was worth a bit of exhaustion in the end.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t be tired right now though. Because you were. You’d slept all night, and into the day after returning to the TARDIS and getting off that planet, but you were still so tired. It was more mental than physical at this point.  

You just needed some down time where you weren’t in danger, which you were thankfully getting as you sat safe and sound in the TARDIS kitchen, and you hoped it would last for at least a while longer. Hopefully.

“(Y/N)?” the Doctor’s voice called, almost sing-songy.

You shifted around on your chair, lifting your gaze to peek your eyes out over your forearm to look at the Doctor. He was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and one ankle kicked up over the other. His head was tilted, blinking at you as a smile curled onto his lips.  

“Yes?” you breathed out, letting your chin drop down on your forearm, keeping your gaze on the Doctor. He gave you a grin, finally stepping into the room and sitting on the chair opposite to you.

“We’re here,” he told you.

“Here?” You raised an eyebrow in question, since you hadn’t thought the Doctor had any destination in mind, just that he’d been in a hurry to get you off the previous planet. He hadn’t said anything about it when you’d left him in the console room to retire to your bedroom yesterday evening, and he hadn’t mentioned it when you’d seen him when you woke up either. “And... where exactly is here?”

“Corona,” the Doctor told you, smile wide. “It’s a beautiful planet with friendly inhabitants. It's always very fun to visit, and I thought you might like a break from our usual travels.”

You hesitated for a second, still feeling so tired, and really not up for more running around and fearing for your life today. That usually was the Doctor’s definition of fun.  

Today was supposed to be a day of downtime.

“None of that, don’t give me that look,” the Doctor snorted a laugh as his eyes lit up happily, “no danger whatsoever. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think you’d be completely safe after the last few... perilous days.”

You lifted your eyebrow once more, finally sitting up from your slouch on the table, “promise?”

“Of course,” he gave an honest nod, “I promise.”

You gave it one last thought before finally ducking your head in a nod. You really did trust the Doctor. It was hard not to trust him. He was just very trustworthy.  

“Great!” The Doctor grinned, “I promise you’ll have fun; don’t you worry. Now, why don’t you go get dressed, and I’ll wait for you in the console room, yeah?”

“Dressed in what?” You rose slowly from your seat, rubbing your tired eyes. He hadn’t said much about the planet, like what kind of clothes you should wear. Should you dress for hot weather, or cold weather?

“Something nice,” the Doctor shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eye, “but comfortable.”

You tilted you head, finally noticing what the man was wearing. It wasn’t his usual suit and jacket. The clothes he wore every day, his signature look.  

He was wearing a tuxedo classy and pristine—down to a perfectly tied bowtie. You’d seen him dressed up in this attire only once before, when he’d led you into some kind of gala back when you’d first started travelling with him.

“You’re in a tux,” you stuttered out in surprise, mouth agape, “...just how fancy should I be dressed for this planet?”

“Depends on the night,” the Doctor gave a cheeky grin, “you’ll look perfect in whatever you decide though.” He stood up, turning away from the table and walking towards the door, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

And then he was gone, turned down the hall and disappearing out of sight.  

You shook yourself from your stupor, finally managing to trail down the halls to your bedroom. You picked out an outfit—it was nowhere near as fancy as the Doctor’s clothes, but you liked it, and it suited you well. Just enough class to be considered fancy, but also comfortable to wear.  

The Doctor was waiting in the console room, as promised. He was perched over the TARDIS console, looking over the screen before he was pushing some buttons. His attention perked up to you when he finally noticed you stood in the doorway.  

“You look lovely,” he grinned, giving you a quick once over where he ducked his gaze off you when he realized what he’d been doing. He was quick to stand to his full height, clearing his throat as he adjusted his jacket cuffs. “Ready then?”

“You’re not going to tell me anything else about this planet?”

“No,” he laughed, “but I’ll show you?”

You gave a huffy laugh of your own before giving him a halfhearted one shoulder shrug, “I guess I’m ready then.”

“Lovely!” He chirped, striding towards the doors, and waiting briefly for you to follow. You didn’t bother hesitating anymore, now you were more curious than anything else. What did the Doctor have planned?

It was beautiful outside the doors. Something almost out of a fairytale.  

Stone walkways and street lights that lit up the darkening sky as the sun started to set above you. There wasn’t much street life, a couple families, children running around and being children—couples dressed in classy-casual outfits. Flowing dresses and skirts, and fancy slacks and dress-shirts as far as the eye could see.

Everyone obviously on their way somewhere, as they all trailed up the stone path, laughing and talking-- in generally good moods.

It looked almost like earth, and the human race, but with subtle differences. Just enough to remind you that you weren’t on earth. It was easy to forget you weren’t though—especially since they were speaking English.

“Ah, perfect,” the Doctor hummed to himself beside you, looking pleased as his eyes travelled over the sight outside the TARDIS doors.

“What’s... happening?”

The Doctor finished his gazing around quickly, before dropping his attention to you and a smile lifted onto his lips, “I knew my timing was right, this is a traditional festival. It’s yearly, I believe, but there’s always one gathering or another to attend around here. I’ve never seen any other planet quite as big on their celebrations as this one.”

“A festival?” you tilted your head in interest, “so... nothing dangerous?”

“One would hope not,” the man gave a light laugh, offering his hand to you, “I’ve never run into any problems here before.”

And that was enough answer for you, as you finally allowed some of the tension to ease off your shoulders. The Doctor attracted danger like a moth to a light source, so if he’d not come across anything dangerous here then you could relax a little.  

You managed a small smile as you settled your hand in his. The Doctor was quick to tighten his hand around yours, before he was leading you up the walkway with the rest of the townsfolk. The chatter exchanged was light, and friendly. The towns people invited you and the Doctor into conversation easily, and the children ran amongst the adults, weaving between them playfully.  

The atmosphere was refreshing—especially after the past few days of fear and struggling. And, as much as you hated to admit it, it was even better than being on your earth.  

The towns people were gathered in the town square, it looked like the entirety of the population was gathered for whatever they happened to be celebrating. There was singing, and dancing. Children playing around and couples swaying to the live music.  

“What do you think?” the Doctor leaned close to your ear so you could hear him over the full-swing of the festival taking place, “like it?”

“I do,” you gave him a shy nod, looking around at everything happening before settling your gaze back on the Doctor. “It’s like being home. Almost.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he gave you a smile, and it was almost too loud to hear him, “I hope this makes up for the past few days, they were definitely a fluke.”

“No, they weren’t,” you gave a bright laugh, “if anything, this planet is the fluke, Doctor.”

The Doctor gave a surprised laugh, before he was giving you an almost guilty look at the completely true accusation, “yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“I love travelling with you, even though we almost die sometimes,” you told him fondly, batting your eyelashes at him, the action accompanying your words. The Doctor’s hand squeezed around yours for a second before he let his grip return to barely hanging on.  

“I’ll always protect you,” the man scoffed, though his eyes trailed over you fondly, “you’re safe with me, (Y/N).”

“I know,” you bowed you head, hiding your flushing cheeks casually.  

“Anyways,” the Doctor cleared his throat, thumb fluttering across you knuckles softly, “how about we check out the food? They’ve got amazing baked goods, if I remember correctly?”

“Let’s do it,” you gave an excited nod, grinning brightly at the Doctor, who returned it.  

“Allons-y!”

The food was pretty good. It wasn’t earth food by any means, and even if this place looked almost like earth, the food certainly didn’t. You still tried some of it, and enjoyed some of the pastries and desserts (which were amazing, like the Doctor had promised).

When the two of you were finished eating, the Doctor led you around to see everything happening.  

There were games occupying the kids in attendance, and the two of you had even been dragged along to join in one of the games by a cute little boy who you just couldn’t say no too.  

And it was fun. Playing around with the kids, and watching the Doctor let himself relax and enjoy their little games too. He seemed just as relaxed as you felt, even though he usually had an air of levelheadedness whenever you were around him, you knew it was just an act sometimes.  

Even though he was a nine-hundred-and-something year old Timelord, you knew he still got overwhelmed by some things, even if he attempted to hide it behind a mask of confidence.  

So, it was nice to see him so completely okay. A small, real smile as a little girl tugged him by his hand to the center of the game, bright eyes as a toddler tugged on the edge of his tuxedo jacket to get his attention.  

The two of you made your way to the live music next, watching the band play.  

There were instruments like the ones on earth, like a set of similar drums, and a guitar that looked pretty close to the ones on earth, but some instruments you didn’t know too. Everything blended together perfectly though, sounding beautiful and smooth.  

It was lively, and the surrounding crowd was enthused and dancing, enjoying their evening.

You weren’t exactly sure how you’d gotten dragged into a mixer dance. Or when one had even started?

You weren’t against it, instead laughing and following suit with the man who’d gently tugged you into the growing dance, away from the Doctor. You feared briefly that you’d be separated from the Doctor, but you didn't have to worry for long though, as you watched a woman tug the Doctor in just as the man had to you, pulling him along into the dance with her.  

You let out a laugh as you were twirled around, trying your best to follow the man’s footing as he danced with you. You glanced at the Docter every so often, watching him play the part just as you were. The man twirled you, and led you along following the rest of those dancing along with you.  

Before you knew it, you were twirled into someone else’s arms, another happy face who was returning your grin. The woman leading you along this time laughed, interlocking your fingers together with hers as you both twirled yourselves under your interlocked arms, laughing brightly together.  

It continued for a while, partners swapping around, following what you assumed was precise steps correlating to the music; dancing with men and women alike, before you were finally spun into a familiar chest. You didn’t even have to look up to know it was the Doctor, his arms wrapping around you, firm but careful, and the familiar scent of the TARDIS enveloped you.  

“Having fun?” the Doctor asked with a teasing grin. His cheeks were dusted red, as you were sure yours were from the dancing, and the laughing too.  

“So much,” you told him brightly, nuzzling your nose against him before following along in the dance as best as you could. You’d done it enough now, through the course of swapping partners, to know the gist of it, but still, neither you nor the Doctor actually knew all the steps. So, you missed a couple steps, and ran into each other awkwardly once or twice, but it was all laughs.  

Others around you joined in on the laughing—not at you, but with you—like everyone knew the two of you had no idea what you were doing. Like they knew you weren’t from around here- and maybe they did?

The music to the song you were dancing too faded off, and everyone gave the band a round of applause before laughter broke out once more. It was just so light, and refreshing. Generally happy. Just what you needed after the past few days.  

What you didn’t know you needed, but really did.  

You didn’t feel as drained anymore, not when your hand was still locked in the Doctors as the two of you joined the crowd in cheers for your own dancing. Prideful at being a part of the dance, and keeping those watching entertained.

The band didn’t stay quiet for long, and before you knew it the guitar look alike and what almost sounded like a keyboard was playing a slow song.  

You watched as couples joined together, swaying to the slow song. Some people watched, smiling along, happy on the sidelines, while others found themselves a partner to take onto the makeshift dance floor.

It was getting dark now—you'd arrived later in the evening, but you were sure it was at least midnight at this point. Most of the kids had left at some point, and it was mostly adults here now.  

The moon was casting gentle rays down on you, and you stared in awe at the starry sky above.  

It was beautiful. Possibly even prettier than earth’s view. Maybe.  

It was clear above you, not a cloud in sight, making the twinkling stars even nicer.  

“Care to dance?” You turned to look up at the Doctor, looking up from his lips to his honest eyes. He was still holding your hand, but his other hand lifted from his side, reaching out in front of him as an offering.

You couldn’t help but let your other hand fall into his, as a familiar blush lit up your cheeks. You weren’t going to say no to the Doctor, especially not when he had such a fond look in his eyes. Not that you’d ever pass on the offer even if his eyes weren’t twinkling adorningly in the moonlight.  

“I’d love too.”

He pulled you close, following suit with everyone else lost in their dancing. It was fairly generic slow dance; the mixer had been the planet’s own version on something similar you had on earth, but it was hard to change up a slow dance. It was all proximity, really.  

You let your arms settle around his neck, as his hands fell to your waist.  

You swayed together to the music. Getting lost in the notes being played, and each other all the same. There really was nothing better than being curled in the Doctor’s arms. It didn’t happen often—not like this, at least.  

It was usually little, subtle touches from the man-- a hand on your shoulder to ground you, or him grasping at your own hand as he steered you out of danger on some unknown planet.  

You let your cheek settle against his chest, smiling as your eyes slipped shut.  

He didn’t stop swaying the two of you, instead keeping you going as you let him take full control. His thumbs brushed smooth lines up and down the curve of your sides.

“This is nice,” you whispered, just loud enough for him, and no one else, to hear. You felt him nod against you, where his chin had been resting on the top of your head.  

“It is,” his voice was soft, “I’m glad you had fun.”

“Thank you,” you looked up at him with tired, hooded eyes.  

You didn’t need to add anything more, because you knew he understood. You knew he knew what you were thanking him for—for taking you away to somewhere peaceful like this, where the two of you could just be, undisturbed.

He returned your smile, giving you a shallow nod as a reply instead of answering. He didn’t have to reply, not when his eyes said it all. This was just as much a get away from him, as it was for you.

You let your ear fall back against his chest, and his grip around your waist pulled you just a little bit closer to him before he carried on with the smooth sways of your bodies.  

You’d never really thought you could enjoy dancing in the moonlight as much as you were. It had always seemed so out of reach-- something you only saw in movies, or on TV. A romantic action that connected people, which always seemed... unrealistic.  

So far away.

But you understood it now.  

You were sure nothing would ever give you the same fuzzy butterfly feeling igniting in your chest as you looked up at him, catching him staring down at you. As your eyes connect and a soft, fond smile curls onto the Doctor’s lips.  

You’d never forget this. Dancing in the moonlight with one of the most important people in your life.  

<><><><>

Hopefully you enjoyed! I wasn’t sure how to go about the dancing, but like I said before the fic, it’s probably heavily influenced by Tangled, so credit to Disney for that!