#evitcrnity

“hey !” peter started, perhaps a little too enthusiastically as he approached the man seemingly standing alone. the young male was wonkily wearing a white ‘F.E.A.S.T’ tee over the top of a long-sleeved shirt as if he’d only just pulled it on last minute while holding a clipboard with several leaflets attached pressed against his chest, an awkward smile planted on his lips. “are you interested in talking about our charity today? i promise it wont be a waste of time. we have lots of options for hands on volunteering as well as several donation schemes. or if you’re busy i can give you the number of our HQ and a nifty leaflet that can get me to stop talking? choice is all yours.”

A Nostalgic Memory Memory was a touchy sort of thing. For a being like the Doctor, who had untold centuries of memories hidden beneath the veneer, peeking through the cracks of the perfect exterior that had been sculpted for him, they tended to come as a fractured, somewhat incomprehensible mess. Too many faces, places, times, to make sense of it when he was incomplete.  He was in the TARDIS when it happened, using the controls to attempt to delve deeper into her memory banks for any sort of information. Silence save for the hum of living coral and machinery filled the air around him as he swiped through the data on the screen, finding nothing that immediately triggered any thoughts - but suddenly, there was a crackle, not unlike the sound of turning the dial on a vintage radio. The strains of Glenn Miller began to play through the TARDIS speakers - and wasn’t that funny? He’d not been looking for music before. His breath stilled as he stared at the audio output, as if he’d been stricken. He knew this song... Warm hands in his own, a flash of blonde hair and a Union Jack shirt. Lovely eyes - Rose! - and a pleased, cheeky looking smile on her face as she laughed a bit. Feet moving to the music - “I’ve just remembered, Rose. I can dance.” It was a voice that wasn’t his own - oh, but it was his own! The leather jacket he wore, the jumper - all his own, a face that was different but his own. Two people dancing to old Earth music - a third person cut in, and for a moment, he thought the handsome fellow was about to take Rose to dance, but no - this man - Jack, that was his name! - was ever open to dance with anyone. Jack took his hand and danced, a brilliant smile on a fine face - and Rose laughed a bit more - three companions, dancing in the TARDIS, to the music she had chosen. The Doctor jerked a little, breathing out in surprise. Rose Tyler. Jack Harkness. The face he wore before this one. England, the Second World War. The world doesn’t end because the Doctor dances. Just this once, Rose - everybody lives!