infinite

       as  the  sounds  of  a  woman’s  conversation  with  herself  reaches  mj’s  ears ,  her  brow  involuntarily  arches.  her  head  pokes  out  from  behind  the  bookcase  she’s  been  browsing.  she  moves  carefully ,  so  not  to  be  heard.  though  the  strange  scene  laid  out  before  her  does  little  to  quench  her  curiosity.  the  woman  thinks  she’s  alone  —-  that  much  is  obvious.  it’s  not  all  that  surprising  ;  michelle  always  had  a  knack  for  being  invisible ,  even  within  relatively  plain  sight.  for  a  moment ,  she  considers  staying  hidden.  but  the  temptation  proves  to  be  far  more  enticing.  ❝  uh  …  ❞  the  teenager  hums ,  slender  fingertips  sliding  the  dusty  book  back  into  its  rightful  place  on  the  shelf.  her  eyes  shift  between  the  tardis  and  the  woman  trying  to  converse  with  it.  ❝  show  you  what ,  exactly ?  ❞  

The blonde’s eyes immediately went up to look at the girl, taking in a breath afterwards. “Oh. You know.” she scratched the back of her head, hoping she didn’t seem to awkward. Seriously, Doctor. Not good manners to talk to yourself in public. “You know when you see somethin’, and ya know it’s important to you? But you can’t figure out when it came into your life, but you feel it deep inside you? Just sitting there? That’s what I’m looking for.” she explained, as best she could in human terms. It was hard to even begin to comprehend the bond she had with her ship. The Doctor stepped forward, pressing the door open just a little bit more, and high pitched whine coming from the hinges. “Want to see if we can find it?”

she couldn’t quite help her curiosity. the figure in front of her looked so oddly suspicious, walking around as if looking for something — or someone — that was slightly out of his grasp. it seemed like the right thing to do, though stupid in retrospect, to follow him walk after him and figure out what it was that he was so intent on finding. 

it hadn’t even occurred to her that this man might be able to… sense…her ?

❝ oh, uh… n-no, it’s not like that… sir. heh…, ❞ internally, she slapped herself for succumbing to her most insecure habit — the incessant stutter made a surprise reappearance more and more often ever since she started getting back these memories. here, in reality, she hadn’t stuttered since she was a little kid, but now ? it was as good as a defense mechanism against nervousness.  ❝ i was only wondering if you need help finding something ? you seem a little lost. ❞ she offered him a smile, hoping that he would be so kind and look past her terrible lying skills.

The Angel paused, looking at the girl for a moment as she tried to explain herself. He sighed, realizing she was panicking just a bit. Taking a step forward, he held a gentle hand up. “There now. I didn’t mean to upset you so, dear.” he explained, ever the soft and loving angel. “I appreciate your offer of help, that is so very kind of you. I was looking for something, but...” he untucked the book from his jacket. The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. 

Crowley stopped in his tracks as the man turned to face him. He quickly cleared his throat, his hand on the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, you might be able to help me. I run a flower shop just across the way and I have some rather unruly flowers that weren’t growing properly, so I cut them. A good lesson for the flowers in the shop to grow better. I’ve got no use for them, so I wondered if you wanted them.” He asked, holding out a bundle of blue and white flowers.

The demon glanced up at the restaurant before looking back at the other, adjusting the dark sunglasses that sat on the bridge of his nose. “I’m not much for manners and all, but the name’s Crowley. Anthony J Crowley. And unfortunately, trouble is my middle name. So whaddaya say, you want some flowers?” 

When Aziraphale saw the slender man’s form under the darkness of the night-- he knew exactly who had been trying to approach him. His voice was so familiar, and as he stared at the flowers being presented to him, he was speechless. Obviously, Crowley had had his memories returned to him...It hurt a bit, seeing the demon not even recognize him. Still, he needed to keep his composure. “Thank you. I apologize for earlier.” he stepped forward, gently taking the flowers from Crowley’s hands. “My name is Aziraphale.” he added, clearing his throat afterwards. “So you own a flower shop, do you?” How very you, my dear the Angel thought to himself. It was a very fitting role for him in this so-called paradise.

Ronan watched the interaction with careful eyes. He knew the exact second he walked into the scene that he wasn’t supposed to be there. There seemed to be a story between the blonde woman and the blue box and Ronan was merely an intrusion. That was fine; Ronan had long since become accustomed to being the unwanted. Hell, it was something he all but guaranteed with the attitude he put out and he wasn’t too stupid to see past that. The thing was, he didn’t care. This intimate moment was probably supposed to be kept secret, but Ronan’s careful eyes watched the door of the blue box open on it’s own and he knew then that he wouldn’t leave. A voice somewhere told him that this was special, this was worth investigating. “Nice trick,” he spoke if only to announce his presence, voice low despite his intention. 

  The Doctor turned in the direction of the voice, startled out of her confusion. Standing off to  the side was a human, at least that was her educated guess, and he seemed interested in the TARDIS. She smiled just softly, still not able to fully process her situation. “She’s pretty good at tricks.” The Doctor replied, her hands moving into her pockets. She remembered loving this. Most humans would walk past a police box, think it was an odd place for one to exist, but be on their way afterwards. But those special few-- they always saw the potential. The strange and questionable. It took a special type of person. “I’m The Doctor.” she called, “You can come over and take a look. Promise I won’t bite.”

5. three things in their fridge?

A very good question for this angelic being. I would say an abundance of cakes, along with whipped cream for his nightly cocoa, as well as some heavy cream for his tea.

25. do they have allergies?

5. three things in their fridge?

Most likely indistinguishable test samples from various planets. But she does have some custard creams in the cupboard.  

14. greatest fear(s)?

Not knowing the outcome. The inability to protect those around her. Things she has to live with. The Doctor’s fears have come to reality many times, and it will happen many times again. It’s her punishment given to her by the universe. 

29. do they enjoy coffee or tea? hot or iced?

1. go to karaoke song?

Pretty Woman by Roy Orbison 

22. do they want children?

          𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚙𝚊𝚠𝚗   𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙   𝚠𝚊𝚜   𝚊   𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎   𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑   𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎   𝚘𝚗   𝚒𝚝𝚜   𝚘𝚠𝚗   –   the  recent  resurgence  of  dreams   &   memories  only  making  it  more   outlandish   .  as  he’s  stood  by  a  display  ,  clutching  a  burgundy  knit  jumper  ,  he  can’t  help  but  stare  at  the  woman  with  the  blue  telephone  box  .   &   perhaps  he’s  meant  to  take  the  hint  ,  to  leave  her  to  the  moment   .  .  .   he  doesn’t  consider  this  .     ❝     wicked   –     ❞     ron  says  ,  intruding  a  bit  on  the  moment  .     ❝     all  i  got  was  a  jumper   .  .  .   &   a  bloody   stick   .     ❞     he  reckons  everyone’s  adapted  to  the  dreams  in  their  own  ways   –   perhaps  things  click  ,  or  perhaps  they  feel  like  foreign  territory  .  the  latter’s  the  case  ,  for  ron  .  he’s  hasn’t   .  .  .   connected  ,  with  his  dreams  .  at  least  not  yet  .  it’s  just  that  it  all  feels  a  little  ridiculous  ,  and  how  exactly   is   he  meant  to  make  sense  out  of  absurdity  ?

The  Doctor  turned  to  the  human,  which  she  now  realized  she  most  definitely  was  an  alien  rather  than  one  of  them,  and  tried  not  to  act  too  startled.  “ Ah,  well. ” she  shoved  her  hands  in  her  pockets.  “ Not  gonna  lie,  this  is  a  bit  overwhelmin’  and  all.  Not  that  I  can’t  handle  it.  I’m  pretty  calm  when  I  need  t’be. ”  she  smiled  at  him,  before  looking  back  in  her  ship.  “ Maybe  I  should  head  inside.  Figure  out  what  mess  I  got  myself  into  this  time. ”  she  turned  and  looked  at  him.  “ Wanna  see? ”

Tony had been having very odd dreams for the past few weeks now.  Dreams of a life that in no way resembled his own.  By now, he’s just kind of accepted that they’re memories of a life he once had and the items that now sit before him had done a good job of confirming his suspicions.  Iron Man.  The Avengers.  Losing the kid, Peter.  Pepper.  Morgan.  Dying, to keep everyone safe.  For a second, it’s like Tony can’t breathe, staring at the case that’s laid on the counter.  The case that holds one of his suits and he doesn’t need to open it to know that.  “Shit.”

Aziraphale felt the distress of the human. It was so very obvious, and as he walked into the building, where he had been only a few days before, he knew what had happened. Perhaps it was not just him...He remembered being in that position. Remembering all he had lost. London. Crowley. The Angel inhaled, taking a step forward and gently placing a hand on the other’s arm, wishing he had his miracles to sooth the pain. “I understand.” he spoke softly.

As he came close to a local restaurant that he frequently visited, he felt a presence behind him. Stopping, the Angel tucked the book away in his jacket, clearing his throat. “I would appreciate it if you would not sneak up on me in such a way. It’s useless regardless. I can sense you.” he turned, looking at the person he had addressed. “May I help you?” he asked, “I certainly do not wish for any trouble.”