𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐬
𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

from the eyes of
— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 —

Amy bounced to the control panel and leaned against it with a smirk. She eyed the Doctor and me seductively.

I'll admit, she looked rather cute in her outfit—her mini skirt and red sweater.

"Doctor, if the problem is you having issues getting it up—because you're old—then I'm sure the TARDIS will provide—" I started, looking to the Doctor with wide eyes, only for him to cut me off by placing a large hand over my mouth.

He was blushing brightly. "I can assure you that is certainly not the reason... the reason is because it's morally wrong!"

He released me a moment afterward, strutting past Amy and giving her a weary glance while piloting the TARDIS. He looked at her as one would a villain, as though the man was scared Amy would pounce on him and steal his chastity.

Amy and I shared a look—and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, typical bloke—straight to fixing his motor..." She groaned.

I hopped up the TARDIS steps, standing beside her and looking at the Doctor. He looked at both of us annoyed.

"Yeah, that's the thing, Amy—I am not a typical bloke..." He huffed.

"Sounds like something a typical bloke would say..." I sang sarcastically.

He snapped his fingers toward me. "Enough, peanut gallery!"

My nose scrunched and my eyes blazed.

"Fucking, Space Lord..." I muttered lowly, smiling 1000% watts when the Doctor narrowed his eyes at me.

The look he gave made me feel things I would rather ignore. I shifted, rubbing my legs together while purposely looking away with a heavy swallow. I did not notice the hard way that the Doctor was watching me, his gaze momentarily raking my figure before his attention was back to Amy.

"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong? I'm getting mixed signals here!" Amy said with animosity. "At least PJ is open to me!"

The Doctor looked taken aback. "Mixed signals? How?" He demanded firmly, walking the TARDIS controls. "And PJ isn't open you—she's not allowed to be kissing and doing those things!"

"Stop saying that, Doctor! And stop dragging me into this!" I tittered.

"Oh, come on!" Amy shook her head, sauntering up to the Doctor. "You turn up in the middle of the night, don't let me change out of my nightie for ages, and then take me for a nice and long spin in your time machine..." She told him. I quirked a brow, Amy had a point—that did seem like a signal. The Doctor himself could not stop the small smirk that attached itself to his face. "That is just a great big signal: get your coat, love, the Doctor is in." Amy ended suggestively.

He seemed to forget that he was arguing against her for a moment. Instead, he looked proud of himself—nodding his head and shooting his eyebrows upward. No doubt patting himself on the back for his own suaveness. But then reality set in, and he was quickly shaking his head.

"No! No, no, no!" He repeated, shaking his head and flapping his hands. "It's not like that! I'm not like that!" The Doctor said, desperately trying to explain something he seemed to be unable to get out.

"Then what are you like?" Amy asked.

"I don't know," The Doctor shrugged before his eyes lit up and a happy smile spread over his face. "Gandalf..." He decided. "Like a space Gandalf! Or the little green one in Star Wars..." He ended, pretending to swing a lightsaber as he mimicked Master Yoda.

Be still my beating heart.

Did my ears deceive me? Did the Doctor just name-drop one of the greatest characters from one of my favorite series of all time?

My heart skipped another beat. Gandalf.

Did the Doctor just compare himself to Gandalf?

The Gandalf?

I could feel my inner geek rising, swelling with excitement. Was this real life?

Was the Doctor about to go full wizard mode in the TARDIS? Because I would pay good money to see him try. The man already had the cryptic vibes and the over-dramatic flair. He just needed a staff, a hat, and a pipe, and voilà!

Space Gandalf.

My mind was racing. Did he know about the movies? The books?

Of course, he does, why else would he have compared himself to such a character? Don't think stupid thoughts, bitch!

Would he have a movie night with me and binge them all? Could we go to Middle-Earth!?

The words slipped out before I could stop them. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor."

The Doctor's head snapped toward me so fast I was genuinely surprised it didn't break. His eyes locked onto mine, wide and filled with what could only be described as adoration. For a brief, terrifying moment, I thought he might combust.

Then he smiled. Not just any smile, either. It was that ridiculously heart-melting, twinkly-eyed grin of his that could light up galaxies.

And then, as if this was perfectly normal for him, he replied, his voice low and dramatic: "The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn!"

I lost it. Completely and utterly lost it. My demeanor? Gone. Pride? Vanished. Out the TARDIS.

I squeaked—actually squeaked—and spun in a quick circle.

"Oh my god!" I squealed, throwing my hands in the air.

The Doctor was beaming at me, his smile so wide it looked like it might actually split his face. He looked so... happy. Pure, unfiltered joy radiated off him, and it was contagious.

I couldn't help myself. I took a step closer, grinning like a maniac. "Go back to Shadow!" I commanded, playfully wagging a finger at him.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, both of us caught in this weird, shared moment of delight. And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, we said the next line in perfect sync:

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

Amy's groan was faint in the background, something about us being "actual nutters," but I didn't care. I was too busy launching myself at the Doctor.

He made a noise of surprise, but his reflexes were quick.

"Oh!"

He caught me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist as I held onto him like a koala. He gripped me to him, and I did not mind that one of his arms was under my ass keeping me steady.

"You have more than earned some of my kisses and affection!" I declared, remembering his earlier complaint.

"Finally!" He practically cried from happiness.

I leaned in and peppered his face with quick, playful kisses. His forehead, his cheeks—no spot was spared.

The Doctor hummed, the sound vibrating through me, and hugged me tighter. I could feel the warmth of him, the way he held me like he never wanted to let go.

A moment later—I stopped the onslaught of kisses and attempted to hop down.

"Just a few more seconds, please, don't let go..." He murmured, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it.

I froze, the tone of his voice cutting through my excitement like a knife. It wasn't just affection. It was something deeper, something I wasn't ready to face. But for him, I obliged, letting him hold me for just a bit longer.

Finally, he released me, albeit reluctantly. I slid down, my feet hitting the ground as I looked up at him, trying to shake off the odd feeling bubbling in my chest.

"Movie night later?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light and casual.

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Of course, as is traditional! We will start with the official first movie. The Hobbit—"

"—An Unexpected Journey!" I finished for him, practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh my gosh, we need to visit Middle-Earth soon, puh-lease! That would be so beautiful and so amazing!"

The Doctor gave me a look so soft it made my knees weak. "Anything for you, my dearest," He said, his voice like a caress.

"Wait," I said, frowning as a thought occurred to me. "You said it's traditional. Have we done this before?"

His gaze lingered on me, and for a moment, I saw something in his eyes I couldn't quite place.

Slowly, he nodded. "Yes. Your future self always insisted we watch a movie every few days. We binged the entire Hobbit and Lord of the Rings series on more than one occasion..."

A small smile tugged at my lips. "Well, I guess it's time for me to start that tradition and for you to get back on it!"

The look he gave me then was enough to make my heart stutter. For a second, I thought he might kiss me—but he held back, his hands twitching at his sides.

I turned away before the moment could get any heavier, a grin spreading across my face. "Space Gandalf," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.

I felt his eyes on me. And I realized to my horror that the feeling only made me want to spin around and launch myself into his arms again.

"Well, weirdos, now that is over. How 'bout we go back to the fact that Gandalf here is just another bloke..." Amy piped up.

My demeanor came back instantly as I turned to look at her. I shrugged carelessly. "Yeah, can't deny it..."

The Doctor looked at Amy frowning. "No. I'm the Doctor." He told her simply, confidently.

'Are you a bloke?'

'No, I'm the Doctor.'

That is the equivalent of:

'Is this the Krusty Krab?'

'No, this is Patrick.'

I shook away the thought.

With a smile, Amy only shook her head. "Every room you walk into, you laugh at all the men and show off to all the girls..." She told him.

"I do not!" The Doctor argued.

"Uhm, you kind of do," I added, scratching the back of my head as he looked at me.

"You're one to talk," He countered me.

Do I do that? No way!

Besides if the Doctor is Space Gandalf then I'm... Korra. Avatar Korra.

Fuck yeah: I am Avatar Korra! Deal with it!

Amy suddenly added something else. "What about, Rory?" She threw the words at the Doctor, pursing her lips and bouncing on her toes.

The Doctor proceeded to snicker and quite rudely made a motion of a big nose.

A loud laugh escaped me before I could stop myself: Amy and the Doctor turned to look at me. And I had to turn away, biting my fist to quiet my laughter as my shoulders quaked.

I heard Amy gasp and swat the Doctor's shoulder for his rude actions. I only continued to laugh, unsure as to why I found it so funny. Perhaps because it was unexpected. It was an action that was so like and unlike the Doctor at the same time.

"That was actual douchebag behavior..." I finally got out through frantic chortles. "You're so mean for that..." I continued to laugh, shaking my head and trying to stop. "I'm so sorry, it's really not that funny—AHAHA!"

I heard the Doctor laughing again before Amy swatted him.

Finally, I got ahold of myself and turned back to face them. Amy was standing with her arms crossed and a pout on her lips while the Doctor was watching me with a warm smile and twinkle in his eyes.

I leaned back against the railing, biting my lip amusedly.

Happiness from our previous interaction still flowed through my veins.

"You are a bloke..." Amy finally told him. "You just don't know it."

"Now, that is just not true, Pond," The Doctor shook his head.

"You are a bloke," Amy repeated firmly before making another move on him, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him toward her. "And here we are..." She nodded in my direction, still stuck on the threesome idea.

My mouth once again fell agape at the sight of her trying to kiss him.

The Doctor was quick to shut it down, grabbing her wrists and gently pushing her away.

"That is not why you're here..." He firmly told her.

"Then why am I here?" Amy asked right back.

The Doctor gave her an almost sad look—a look mixed with frustration. A look of a lonely man who thought he'd seen it all. Weirdly, it just slightly reminded me of the old man from UP.

Y'know, that sad Pixar movie about the old man and little boy scout and the house with balloons.

"Because..." He finally spoke, looking into her eyes to get his point across. "...Because I can't see it anymore..."

Concern, actual proper concern raced through me. He sounded so sad when he said it, so fed up.

"See what?" Amy asked in confusion as the Doctor moved away from her and sprawled on one of the console chairs.

I remained in my place leaning against the railing, staring at him in concern. He did not meet my gaze, staring off into nothingness. There was a long pause, Amy and I shared a look of confusion and concern for the man who seemed to deflate.

Finally, he looked up, eyes switching between us.

"I am 907, after a while, you just can't see it!" He explained voice tinged with frustration but openly honest.

"See what?" Amy asked, moving slightly closer as she desperately tried to understand what he was telling us.

I understood the Doctor immediately, and his words hit very close to home for me.

"Everything!" The Doctor exclaimed, answering her question. "I look at a star and it's just a big ball of burning gas, and I know how it began and how it ends! And I was probably there both times! After a while everything is just stuff..." He sighed and pursed his lips. "It's all just things... and that's my issue! I make all of time and space my backyard—I make it my life, my every day, and now what do I have? A backyard." His shoulders slumped sadly, and he turned his long tired look from Amy to me. His eyes spoke of so many years, so many years of being tired. "I have a lonesome life of travel, of kicking rocks on various planets in various times. Of frittering around and wasting my time in whatever offhand way I can manage..." He sounded almost bitter, resentful.

Time will do that to you.

Also did he just quote Pink Floyd? I decided not to mention it given the man looked properly upset.

This is more reminiscent of the old man he was underneath it all—the ageless creature who wanders the universe and topples Gods, who rides on the back of danger for fun. I can relate to him, and understand exactly where he is coming from and how he feels.

Not that the Doctor knows, but I am 393, after all. Not quite as old as him, but old enough and with the promise of many more millions of years ahead of me. Still incredibly young in the vast majority of it all.

The truth of the matter is that once you have access to everything: it is hard to become excited. And while there is always something new, it is not quite the same as finding new possibilities when you understand just how possible anything and everything is.

Nevertheless, I could not relate to the Doctor because I can still see it. And maybe that has to do with the fact that I am a multiversal traveler who unlike the Doctor, is not yet edging toward 1000 years old.

But the fire—the spark, the motherfucking spice of life races through me faster than anything.

As Eminem once said: I am moving at the speed of life and I can't slow down.

Not for anything.

For me, the vast multiverse wasn't just my backyard—it was a sprawling, endless playground, one I never wanted to leave, one that nobody could leave. All interconnected by the thinnest of golden lines.

I'd seen countless stars, danced through cosmic storms, stood in the glow of supernovas, backflipped through various histories, meandered through universes where the laws of physics are fucking paint, and laughed in the face of impossible odds. And still, it amazed me. Every single time.

How could it not?

Life and death, the beauty of creation and the inevitability of destruction—it was all woven into the very fabric of existence. Each moment, fleeting and precious, carried its own unique spark. I'd seen lives begin, flourish, and fade. I'd seen the end of worlds and the birth of galaxies. Universes right at the start of a big bang and right at their end; sometimes ending naturally, the big freeze. Other times, they ended forcefully—purposefully and pre-maturely.

Murdered universes as I called them.

And through it all, the spark never dimmed for me.

If anything, it burned brighter.

Because the truth was, I loved the chaos and the calm, the wonder and the heartbreak. Life wasn't just something to endure—it was something to devour. To savor. And it is always a fight. Even death had its beauty. It reminded us to hold on a little tighter, to laugh a little louder, to love a little fiercer.

That's why I cannot stop moving. Why I refuse to stand still.

The multiverse is a symphony, each note more breathtaking than the last, and I want to hear every single one. I want to dance through every crescendo, linger in every pause, and let its music fill me until I can't take anymore.

Even now, the possibilities raced through my mind, each one more dazzling than the last. My chest felt like it might burst, the energy of it all too much to contain. I could feel my lips curving into a wide grin, my eyes shining with the thrill of it.

I could see it. I wanted it.

And then, the Doctor snapped his fingers. He snapped me out of my daydream.

"Oh—oh!" He exclaimed, leaping to his feet so suddenly that Amy and I both startled. His eyes were locked on mine, brimming with excitement. "And just look at that look in your eye. The dream! That fire, that stardust, that life, and all that excitement in those gorgeous eyes of yours! That is why you both are here, because of that!"

His words hit me like a lightning strike. My lips parted in surprise, my cheeks warming under his intense gaze. He was looking at me like I was the answer to the question he hadn't even known he was asking.

I pursed my lips, desperately trying to fight the blush that threatened to rise, but it was no use. The Doctor smirked, shooting his eyebrows upward in that maddeningly suggestive way of his.

He knew what his little praise did to me.

Amy, meanwhile, was completely lost. "What?" She asked, tilting her head. "Are you flirting right now? It's PJ's eyes—that's why we're here? Her eyes are just blue!"

The Doctor groaned, throwing his head back dramatically before spinning toward her. "No! While your eyes are lovely, dearest, and certainly the most brilliant blue I've ever seen..." He trailed off, glancing at me with a grin that made me quirk an unimpressed brow.

He didn't miss a beat. "It's not just about those ocean eyes—it's what they see! She sees it! And so do you, Amelia Pond! All of you, my companions—my beautiful, brilliant humans—you see it! So beautifully, with so much hope and wonder!"

He paused, gesturing wildly as if trying to gather his thoughts, his words tumbling out in a rush. "And when you see—when you really see—well, how can I not see it too?"

Amy still looked confused, but I got it.

Because for the Doctor, it wasn't about the stars or the planets or the wonders of the universe—not anymore, at least. For the Doctor, for the lonely old man, it was about seeing it all through our eyes. About rediscovering that spark of joy, that sense of amazement; the very thing he thought he'd lost.

And in that moment, I knew I'd do everything in my power to keep that spark alive. For as long as I had in my time aboard his ship of dreams. For the first time ever, I truly did hope that my search in finding the last two Arbiters would go on for a long while.

The Doctor was standing face-to-face with Amy, only a few inches separating them. She was staring at him with wide and wavering brown eyes. He looked back at her with something akin to ancient admiration.

I remained a few feet away and leaned back against the railing.

"And that's the only reason you took me with you?" Amy finally asked him gently, licking her lips.

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably, breaking his stare with her and looking toward his feet.

"There are worst reasons..." He finally breathed, looking back up to her sheepishly.

Amy scoffed a snort, shouldering past him. "I was certainly hoping so..." She said sassily causing a grin to pull at my lips.

"So why am I here then?" I finally pitched causing the Doctor to look at me.

He floundered for a moment, stuttering over his words. I chose to take pity on him, speaking before he could come up with some bullshit answer.

"Oh, never mind, I got it now..." I nodded, sending a very obnoxious wink his way.

The Doctor; however, did not take that. Instead, he seemed to appear in front of me within seconds, leaning his face so close that our noses nearly touched.

"And what is that, deary?" He asked. "Why do you think you're here?" He breathed.

I grinned at him, bringing a hand up and patting his chest. "For fun, of course!"

Something sparkled in the Doctor's eyes, and I was surprised when he leaned forward resting his head against my own. A second later, he placed a long kiss on my head—something that made me jolt in surprise, but I did not pull away.

"Of course..." He finally agreed as he removed his gross space lips from my head, the man taking a step away. "As you put it, all for funsies, dearest!"

"Wait!" Amy cut in, whirling to face us. "So how many people have traveled with you then? You've mentioned a few in passing, but if you're 907... you've gotten around then?" She gasped, pointing to the Doctor accusingly.

He swallowed heavily before laughing nervously and waving her off.

"Oi, sure, but they were all just friends! Loads of friends!" He awkwardly tried to explain, his voice weak as he leaned against the console. "Y'know: chums, pals, mates, buddies..." He trailed off before his nose scrunched. "Actually, not mates—forget mates..." He blinked with an emotion of disgust, as though remembering something appalling.

There was no way he was telling the truth. He hasn't had any romances in the entire time he's been traveling the stars? It's an absurd thought.

"And out of all those friends—just out of curiosity—how many would you say were girls?" Amy asked, also not believing his claim.

"Ohhh..." He trailed nervously, looking between both of us. He looked especially nervous when I quirked a curious brow. "Some of them I suppose..." He said before scampering to the other side of the console as to cut eye contact with us and beginning to fiddle with the controls. "...Just a little over half... maybe..."

"Young?" Amy interrogated.

"Everyone is young compared to me..." The Doctor shot back quickly.

That was a lie. In the grand scheme, he was actually rather young. Especially when it comes to beings—from other universes, mostly—that are celebrating millions of years of life. For whatever reason, this universe did not have a whole lot of beings that lived in the millions.

The Face of Boe, someone I had not yet had a chance to encounter, was one of them.

"Some?" Amy continued.

"It's hard to tell, it's a gray area..." The Doctor claimed.

"Under half? Over half?" Amy continued to push.

The Doctor thoughtfully rubbed his chin, appearing to be in deep thought. He finally pursed his lips and shrugged. "Probably... maybe... a little over half-ish..."

"Uh-huh..." I clicked my tongue in disbelief.

The Doctor rolled his eyes at me. "Oi, you be quiet, peanut gallery. Technically this version of you has been traveling with me for less time than Amy!"

Amy smiled at that and looked down at the console. It was obvious she did not want to be rude, but it was also apparent that the Doctor's words pumped her up a bit. Especially considering he'd all but told her she was traveling with him because he was bored.

I looked at the ceiling and shook my head.

"Were they hot?" Amy continued to poke and prod.

The Doctor looked back at her and frantically shook his head.

"No. No, no, no—none of them really..." He nervously pondered, scratching at his face. "Probably not... well, maybe one or two..." He added, eyes staring off into space as though thinking of some of his previous companions. A few, no doubt. "But! I never really notice!" He clapped his hands, snapping himself out of his daydreaming.

Daydreaming about your previous hot companions... you naughty boy.

"Well! This big ole' machine must have some kind of visual records..." She said suggestively, tone dropping and a catty smirk being sent the Doctor's way.

The Doctor shook his head. "Nope, not going there, Pond. And they are voice-locked!" He wagged a finger at her.

Amy scoffed. "So I would just need to say something like..." She trailed off thoughtfully. "...Show me all visual records of previous TARDIS inhabitants?"

I allowed my gaze to flick between the two as though watching a tennis match.

The Doctor chuckled, and looked down while speaking cockily. "No, no, no! Voice-locked, that means I would need to say show me all records of previous TARDIS inhabitants..." He snickered as though Amy was daft.

In reality, he was the daft one. A genius, a TimeLord genius, but daft nevertheless. And weak in the sense that his habit of over-explaining and rambling got him stuck in situations like this.

Amy bounced up to him, stroking his arm and smiling.

"Oh, thank you..." She flicked his forehead and he scrunched his face in pain.

"OW—Oh! Wait, no!" He panicked, realizing the TARDIS was pulling in all records. "No, no, no!" He groaned, looking around at the vessel we were in.

I smirked as Amy leaned next to me, both of us up against the railing as the TARDIS flickered a holographic screen just beyond the railing to life and immediately started to pull in dozens of different women.

Holy fuck: this guy really does get around.

Almost all of these women were young, fully human, and rather pretty. Most seemed doe-eyed and innocent.

Yikes.

One might think the Doctor was Hugh Hefner and ran a Playboy Mansion of his own.

"Ugh, thanks, dear!" He complained loudly to the TARDIS before begrudgingly joining me and Amy, shoving his way between us.

There were only a few men in the mix—like such a small number of men that I could count them on one hand.

"Jesus fuck..." I was gaping at the screen, wide-eyed as all the women passed through with their portraits and various video clips playing.

"Ooh, Gandalf..." Amy gasped playfully, looking at him as though he'd done something bad.

The Doctor groaned and slapped both our wrists before turning away. Surprisingly, he did not say anything about my foul use of language. He was probably too embarrassed both at having been caught red-handed and being outsmarted by a human.

"Wow, look at the ass on her..." I pointed out one of the women, a pretty blonde girl.

The Doctor immediately turned to the screen wide-eyed. Something sad passed through his gaze at the sight of the blonde, something that went away the second he made eye contact with me.

His ears turned a furious shade of red. "Yes, well..." He said with a small chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "...It was quite—uhm—quite nice... not that I noticed!" He coughed, looking away at the snicker I released.

"Is that a leather bikini?" Amy suddenly gasped as the picture switched to yet another woman, another previous companion of the Doctor.

She was, in my opinion, the hottest woman who had popped up on this screen thus far. Short but big and wavy brown hair encapsulated her head. It was done up in the kind of wave that the 70s' stood for.

Her eyes, a twinkling blue were wide on her pretty face. Her body was skinny but muscular, that of a warrior's. And her clothing was rather revealing, all leather and entirely short.

She was fucking hot.

While she looked human, I had the strongest inkling she was not. At least not entirely.

"God..." I whistled, looking at the Doctor in a new light. "You have been busy... you're not Gandalf, you're like the Hugh Hefner of space and time..." I laughed.

The Doctor bristled at my words, seemingly not liking them as he appeared embarrassed.

"It is not like that..." He finally said before turning back to the console. "Right, anyway, that is it, enough of this. RORY! We are going to find Rory and bring him here!"

Amy waved at him, not looking away from the pictures flashing through the screen. It had moved away from the girl in the leather bikini and was now showing a cute darker-complexioned woman in a red leather jacket.

"He's at his stag night, leave him be..." She said, not really paying attention.

I looked back toward the Doctor, trying to pay attention to what he was doing. What buttons and levers he tugged on.

"Well then," The Doctor smirked and pushed a red double-headed lever. "Let's make it a great one...!" He laughed as the TARDIS shuddered, the Doctor having piloted us into the time vortex. "Now, Amy, where is Rory's stag night being hosted—?" The Doctor asked, only to be cut off by Amy squealing.

"PJ, it's you!" She gasped.

My eyes widened and I snapped my head back around to face the screen that I'd started losing interest in.

As I stared at the screen, my breath caught in my throat.

It was me.

But not entirely. Not yet.

The woman staring back at me was undeniably myself, yet subtly different. My light brown hair, usually wavy and loose, was shorter, chopped just past my shoulders, and a striking jet black. It framed my face in a way that made my features—sharp cheekbones, strong jawline—appear more defined. My eyes, the same piercing blue, seemed to hold something deeper than they did now. A knowing, an experience I didn't yet possess.

But what the fuck could it be? As someone who was destined to be alive for the long round, experiences came rather slowly for me. I should not have such a look in my eye for her being only a few years—if that—down the line.

Interesting.

At least I still looked hot.

Of course, I look physically the same. My face never changes—never ages—and I heal from nearly everything.

I was wearing the same patchy flight jacket, cargo pants, and space boots. The goggles that adorned my head looked perfectly fashionable. The woman—future me—was grinning into the camera, a smile that held everything mischievous in the world.

It bordered wicked.

He came up from behind me, moving to lean against the railing. One arm held onto the railing, the other resting on his hip.

The Doctor stood beside me, his eyes glued to the screen. His face was unreadable for a moment, his expression frozen as though the universe itself had paused. And then, slowly, emotion seeped in. A dopey and soft grin curled his lips.

Adoration.

Love.

Devotion.

It radiated off him, filling the room and making it hard to breathe. He wasn't just looking at the picture; he was looking at her. The me that hadn't come into existence yet. The me that he'd known, traveled with, and apparently, loved.

That's what it was in his eye. The unfamiliar and unspoken emotion that shined in it so often.

My chest tightened, and my mind spun.

I can't do this. I cannot allow him to feel that way about me—or for me to possibly feel it back. At some point down the line. It hurt because of the pinprick of adoration that I already felt toward him.

I was here for a reason, a mission, a purpose bigger than myself, and this... this could ruin everything.

The Doctor said something, his voice soft and reverent, but I couldn't make it out over the rush of blood in my ears. Amy, standing a little further away, looked at him curiously, but I couldn't meet her gaze.

It was too much.

I gasped audibly, turning away from the screen as though it burned me. Before anyone could stop me, I bolted down the corridor, my heart hammering in my chest.

I didn't know where I was going. My legs carried me automatically toward my bedroom, a sanctuary, one where I could finally breathe again. Think clearly.

"PJ!" The Doctor called, his voice laced with concern. His footsteps followed close behind, and before I could reach the door, his hand wrapped gently around my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

"PJ," He said again, softer this time. "Look at me, please..." He whispered, and I did as he asked.

His eyes—so pretty—searched mine and I could not keep the contact for more than a few seconds.

I closed my own eyes tightly, trying to gather my scattered thoughts and quell the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. My mind was a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and something else I didn't want to name.

He murmured, his tone full of guilt. "Oh, I am so so sorry. It was too much, wasn't it? Seeing your future so suddenly like that?" His voice cracked slightly. "I should've known the TARDIS would pull in your record. I should've stopped it—"

"No," I cut him off, my voice hoarse. I forced my eyes open, looking anywhere but at him. "No, it's fine. You're right. Seeing my future was just... a lot. I just need a few minutes." My voice trembled, betraying the lie. "Please."

The Doctor hesitated, his brow furrowed with worry. Then, without warning, he pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me tightly. His chin rested atop my head as his hand gently stroked my hair.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered again, his voice barely audible.

I had the feeling he was apologizing for something else, but I did not want to know what.

The warmth of his embrace was both a comfort and a curse. I felt myself relax against him despite my better judgment, my racing thoughts slowing under his gentle touch. But it didn't erase the fear. If anything, it made it worse.

Because deep down, I knew that his affection—his love—could undo everything I was trying to accomplish. And the terrifying part was, I wasn't sure I wanted to stop it.

The love of the TimeLord was not for the weak.

I let myself melt into the Doctor's embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his twin hearts against my cheek. For a moment, I let the comfort wash over me, allowing myself the smallest indulgence of leaning closer and holding on tighter. His arms around me felt safe, grounding me in a way I hadn't realized I needed.

The ungrounded girl. The POLARIS JADE tied to nothing.

But I couldn't stay like this.

Slowly, I pulled away, forcing myself to step back. His hands lingered on my arms, his eyes searching mine with concern.

"Just a few minutes," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "I'll be back out in a few minutes."

The Doctor frowned, not satisfied with my answer. "PJ, you really shouldn't—"

"I just need a minute, Doctor," I interrupted, shaking my head. "I need to process this... seeing my future self, it's... weird. It's messing with my head, that's all."

It was a lie. I'd seen worse than my future self. But I had not seen worse than a fucking TimeLord, the fucking Oncoming Storm down bad for me.

But he didn't know that. He thought I was a human—a weak little human who was affected by such engagement with my future.

He hesitated, clearly torn. "Well, that makes sense, I suppose," He finally said, beginning to ramble in that way of his. "I mean, you're not really supposed to interact with your future or past self, in any form. It's all very wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey. Of course, it would affect you dramatically, probably triggering all sorts of temporal dissonance, which by the way—"

"Doctor," I cut him off, raising a brow at him.

He cleared his throat sheepishly. "Right. I'll stop rambling now." He tilted his head, his expression softening. "Are you absolutely sure you don't want me to go in there with you? I could... keep you company."

I rolled my eyes, already starting to feel more like myself. "I wouldn't leave Amy alone for too long if I were you. She might find more fun things in the TARDIS control panel. Now, go find Rory," I said, giving him a playful shove back toward the console room. "Or else it might be you that ends up married to Miss Amelia."

He looked at me skeptically but allowed himself to be moved. "Five minutes?" He asked, still reluctant to leave.

"Five minutes," I confirmed with a small smile.

He nodded, then leaned down to kiss the top of my head—something so tender it sent a pang through my chest—and scampered off with his cheeks turning a deep red.

As soon as he was out of sight, my smile dropped, and I turned toward my room. The moment I stepped inside and closed the door, the weight of everything came crashing down. I leaned against the door, my chest tight with worry.

Seeing my future self, knowing the Doctor's potential feelings for me—past, present, or future—was overwhelming in ways I couldn't explain.

Maybe I was wrong? Maybe I'd misinterpreted the look.

But no... I had been ignoring the signs for long enough. It was right in front of my eyes—anyone emotionally intelligent would pick up on such a thing.

Should I ask him? No.

Because I already knew that he might just confirm it, and if he confirms it then it becomes all the more real.

My purpose here was bigger than me, bigger than him, and yet...

The way he'd looked at me, the way he'd held me...

I let out a shaky breath and bristled, running my hands through my hair. I couldn't afford to get held back. Not by him. Not by this.

But even as I told myself that, the lingering warmth of his embrace remained, stubborn and comforting.