𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐬
𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐱

from the eyes of
— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 —

In the Doctor's button-up, I lay in my bed clutching the bottle of wine to my chest. It was halfway gone, the cork open as I took large gulps every few minutes.

The lights around me were dim as my eyes focused on the random television show playing in front of me. It was from the planet Atraxia—it was almost like 'Cops', but the Atraxian version. Bigger douchebags the Atraxians were.

Whether River Song was still aboard or not, I was not sure. But I am not a huge fan of goodbyes, so I would rather her just head out without saying anything. We would see each other again, after all.

I reminded myself of that and tried to use it to wipe away the ridiculous sadness I felt about River Song leaving and the slight fear I had about being back with the Doctor.

I took another swig from the bottle, the sharp sweetness of the plum wine burning down my throat, but it didn't do much to quell the storm brewing inside me. The Atraxian show played on, all bluster and bravado, but I wasn't really paying attention. My thoughts were louder than the flashing lights and growling voices on the screen.

Being back with the Doctor—it wasn't something I dreaded, not exactly. In fact, I was quite excited. I truly did miss him.

It was more complicated than that. I liked him. Of course, I liked him. What wasn't there to like? He was brilliant, funny, maddening, and utterly unique. And I cared about him, maybe too much. But caring too much had never worked out well for me in the past, especially when it came to men.

I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, but trusting women had always come easier. Maybe it was because women like River and me understood each other in ways most didn't. River never asked me to be anything other than exactly what I was—a little reckless, a little chaotic, and more than a little broken. With River, there was no expectation to fit into a mold. She embraced the wild parts of me, probably because she had just as much wildness in her.

Hell, she knew I was a half-breed. And sure, it was not the full story, but it was enough to take stress off me. I did not need to pretend to be so human around her.

The Doctor, though... he was different. Not because he didn't accept me, but because I wanted him to. I wanted his approval in a way that felt dangerous. Disappointing River would've stung, sure, but she'd have shrugged it off and probably dragged me into some new adventure to make me forget. The Doctor, though—disappointing him felt like it would cut deeper.

And then there was the matter of his feelings. The way his eyes lingered on me sometimes, the unspoken things in the air between us. I wasn't blind or naive. I knew he was in love with me, in love with a future version of me—even if he didn't want to admit it, even if he tried to bury it under his nervous energy and babbling nonsense. It wasn't just in the way he looked at me; it was in the way he didn't look at me, the way he'd stumble over words when I caught him off guard or the way his smile softened when he thought I wasn't paying attention.

And that terrified me. Not because I didn't care about him, but because I did. Because I knew myself well enough to know that if I let my guard down, if I let him in, I'd fall for him, too. And I couldn't afford that. Falling in love wasn't part of the plan—not now, not ever. I'd built my life on freedom and independence, and love had a way of chaining you to someone else, of making your priorities shift in ways you couldn't control.

That wasn't who I was. That wasn't who I wanted to be. Not again.

I sighed, taking another drink and clutching the bottle tighter. The sadness I felt about River leaving was easier to understand. I'd miss her—her confidence, her mischief, her ability to make the world feel lighter just by being in it. But the anxiety I felt about being back with the Doctor...

That was harder to pin down, harder to admit to.

Because deep down, I knew the truth: I wasn't afraid of him.

I was afraid of myself.

Of what I might feel, of what I might do if I let him get too close. And I didn't know if I had the strength to keep those walls up forever.

"Knock, knock..." River's voice suddenly lilted through the door, followed by the creak of it opening before I could reply.

I looked over from my cocoon of blankets to see her stroll in, all grace and mischief, before settling herself beside me on the bed. The room was dim—only the flash of the holographic television.

"You aren't going to say goodbye, sweetie?" She finally asked me after moments of a stare-off, her voice soft and knowing.

I sighed, hugging the nearly empty bottle of wine tighter to my chest. "I don't like goodbyes—you know this. Besides, it's not like we won't see each other again."

River nodded, but there was a sadness in her expression that made my chest tighten. "Yes, I suppose you're right," She murmured. "But we still won't ever see these versions of each other again."

That made me pause. I frowned, tilting my head to look at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She gave me one of her enigmatic smiles, the kind that always felt equal parts comforting and infuriating. "Time and space," She said simply. "You and me. Me and the Doctor. The Doctor and you... all so complicated, never making much sense. My timestream doesn't flow in the same direction as yours and the Doctor's does. Every time you see me, it'll be from a different time, a different version of us interacting. Still us, just... different. So, in a way, this is goodbye."

Bitch.

Her words hit harder than I wanted them to. I turned my gaze away and took another swig of the wine, trying to push down the growing lump in my throat.

Bullshit.

River reached out gently, prying the bottle from my grip. "Alright, enough of that, sweetie," she said firmly, placing it on the stand next to my bed. "Now, darling, you need to start letting the Doctor in and fully trusting him."

"I do," I grumbled, sinking deeper into the blankets. "What's not to trust and respect about that guy? He's like Space Jesus..."

River tittered a snicker, shaking her head. "Not respect and generic trust. I mean stop being so closed off. Just... allow it to happen."

I looked at her skeptically, the words catching somewhere between my mind and my mouth. But deep down, I knew what she meant. She had a way of seeing through the walls I built around myself.

"Let him see all of you, sweetie," She continued, her voice softer now. "Your strength, your fear, your hope... everything. He'll surprise you, I promise."

I had a feeling she meant to tell him that I was a half-breed. Sure, I could do that, but it'd only add meaningless complications. Especially considering it's not even 50% of the full truth, a truth River Song seemed not to know either.

I swallowed hard, managing only a resolute nod.

River sighed, her smile bittersweet. "There's my girl," she said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my forehead. "Follow me to the river, and I promise, it'll always flow gently for you..."

The fuck does that mean?

The words lingered in the air as she stood, smoothing down her shirt. At the door, she turned back, her eyes sparkling with something I couldn't quite place. "I'll see you again, goodbye, for now, sweetie."

And then she was gone, leaving only the faint scent of her perfume and the ache of her absence behind. I sank into the blankets deeper.

She was no doubt heading to the console room to say a final and probably mysterious farewell to the Doctor, Amy, and Rory before using her working Vortex Manipulator.

My eyes once again moved to the television, desperate for anything to distract me.

Why did existence need to suck so much? Why can't things ever be simple?

Bitch, simple was never in the cards for you. Be real.

My lips; however, quirked as the Atraxian show started a new episode. The music for the intro is fucking 'Bad Boys', exactly like the American reality television show COPS. This is too fucking funny.

Laughter bubbled up and out despite the situation, eyes gleaming as I watched.

Another thirty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I did not need to be a TimeLord genius to know it was the Doctor on the other side.

"PJ?" He called through the door, voice gentle. "PJ, can I come in?"

I could imagine him awkwardly finicking with his hands or bow tie.

"Sure!" I hollered back, and with that, the door opened revealing a familiar bowtie-wearing TimeLord.

I subconsciously played with the button-up I still had not changed out of it. It was slightly embarrassing to be caught red-handed in the attire, but in my defense, I did not think that we were going to be seeing the Doctor today—I did not think I ran the risk of him catching me in his shirt.

In all fairness: River and I were planning on bringing the TARDIS back soon, honest!

We had intended to hit a few more places, a few more stops along the way before our journey ended. Another week at most is what we planned before heading back to Italy in the 1500s—at which point, River would have left and I would be left in the TARDIS waiting for the Doctor to return.

He was never meant to know... okay, that sounds bad. But River said she does it all the time!

The Doctor hesitated for a moment in the doorway, his curious gaze sweeping over the room before landing squarely on me. His bowtie was slightly askew—had he run here? His wide eyes immediately took in the oversized button-up I was wearing, wrapped in a blanket, his shirt hanging loosely around me. I tugged at the hem self-consciously, but his gaze had already shifted to the television.

The flickering light of the Atraxian show illuminated his bemused expression.

He stopped mid-step, a grin breaking across his face as the show's intro once again blasted as another episode started.

"Is that—oh, you're kidding. Atraxian COPS?" He asked, sitting at the foot of the bed and leaning back on him elbows. "I didn't even know they still made this rubbish."

"You mean you've watched this before?" I quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"Watched it?" He laughed. "Lived it. The Atraxi are... well, let's just say they're not exactly my favorite. Bit of a superiority complex, and their idea of justice is, uh, heavy-handed at best." He waved a hand dismissively but kept chuckling at the absurdity of the scene on the screen.

Oh yeah, he and Amy had told me about the whole incident with an Atraxi prisoner hiding in Amy's house and then the Atraxi coming after it and threatening to burn the entire planet in the process. Fun times.

I laughed along, shaking my head. "Yeah, well, they make great reality TV. Look at this guy—swore up and down he didn't steal that hover-scooter, and then the cops literally find it parked outside his home... holy shit—now they're threatening to blow his entire home up? Yeah, the Atraxi do seem to overreact."

The Doctor snorted. "Sounds about right for the Atraxi, at least it's not an entire planet this time. Brilliant. Nothing like intergalactic stupidity to bring people together."

A comfortable silence fell between us as we watched the show, the sound of Atraxian squabbles and our occasional snorts filling the room. It was strange how easy it felt, sitting here with him like this. Like no time had passed.

Oddly domestic, in a way. Given the two people in question are a mad TimeLord who can rarely sit still and a multiversal traveler with immense cosmic abilities.

Finally, he broke the quiet, exhaling heavily. "One month," He said, almost to himself. "An entire month for you."

I glanced at him. "Yep. What about for you?"

He pulled out his watch, looking at it as if it would give him the answer he already knew. "About... eighteen hours? Give or take."

I stared at him. "And you never came back to check on me?"

It was not that I expected him to—it was just 18 hours is a hot second for him to not even glance and make sure his TARDIS is still in its rightful place.

He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't think I needed to. In fact, I was expecting you to come find us when more than three hours passed and we all hadn't come back,"

Guilt raced through my system once again.

"I didn't..." I struggled for the right words, my voice faltering. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or ditch you or whatever it is—"

"PJ," he interrupted gently, "it's fine."

"No, Doctor." I shook my head, leaning forward. "We only intended to be gone for an extra day or two... and then time just kind of got away from us."

He smiled, the kind of smile that held more amusement than irritation. "Ah, happens to us all in the old girl, I suppose. But truly it's fine, a month is nothing to an old TimeLord such as myself,"

Another pause. I slowly nodded, glad he didn't seem too upset by it.

"Is River gone?" I asked softly.

He nodded, but he seemed relieved that she was gone if anything.

"Yeah. Told me some more puzzling words about our future and then left. Strange woman. And then Amy showed Rory to their room and..." His nose scrunched in disgust. "...Well, they're doing gross things before bed."

I laughed—genuinely laughed—and realized just how much I'd missed him. More than I wanted to admit.

"Gross things?"

"It's gross when they do it..."

"But not when you do it?"

"TimeLords don't do it like humans..."

"So what?" I quirked a brow. "You're like a doll down there? No parts?"

The Doctor floundered, face turning scarlet. "Wha—PJ!" He yelped embarrassed. "Of course, I have parts... TimeLords are just not as..." He trailed off, stumbling over his words to find the appropriate phrase.

"Promiscuous? Horny?" I bluntly guessed, snickering as he hastily nodded his head, still flustered.

I'd grown used to River's flirtations this past month, myself unable to fluster her but her able to fluster me—ME!

I thought I was practically unbreakable, but River Song really knows how to use her words.

But now it made seeing the Doctor so flustered more than pleasing.

"Well, I suppose that you could put it that way... yes..." He desperately moved from touching his bowtie to pulling at the collar of his shirt.

Is it hot in here? I hadn't noticed.

"Ah..." I clicked my tongue amused. "So you weren't really getting any on Gallifrey... or anywhere else in the universe for that matter?" I giggled.

The Doctor lightly slapped my foot from where he sat, shaking his head and trying to fight the smile coming across his face. His cheeks and neck were still pink.

"Oi, I am 907 missy..." He clicked his tongue. "I have certainly been around... or as you put it, I definitely get it...."

"—Pussy or dick?" I cut him off vulgarly.

"PJ!" He once again gasped, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head. But, after many moments, he finally spoke, his words far too posh given what I'd just asked him. "Not that it matters... nor is it any of your business... plus we've already discussed this... but you might say... both?"

I smirked. "Both or all of it, Space Lord? It's a big universe out there, there's definitely more than two options..."

The Doctor groaned. "All of it, PJ. I am a 907-year-old TimeLord who can regenerate into either gender—though I'll admit I'm typically a male—and I do like being a man, but the point is that I'm a TimeLord with few preferences... no fixed personality, no fixed appearance... no fixed parts... and no fixed direction... so YES..." He finally breathed out through his rambling, "...I have done it all... but I don't do it that much because there are better and much more important things in life and I'm done with this conversation!" He said the last part quickly, and I lay watching the poor dude in an amused manner.

His shoulders slumped as he was finished and I nodded slowly, trying to fight off the smile.

His ears were turning red and he refused to look me in the eye.

Fine, I'll show some mercy on him.

"Alright then," I said, leaning back on the pillows and dropping the subject. "Can I tell you a secret?"

He tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "And what might that be?"

His voice sounded nervous, it was obvious that he wondered whether or not I was planning on telling him a not-so-innocent secret. If I was going to continue this conversation that danced the line of space balls.

But no... something far more genuine and innocent was taking over my thoughts. A realization that made me want to look down shyly and twiddle my thumbs.

Because sitting here—with him—it hit me that missed him a lot more than I'd been letting on. Then I even realized.

He wasn't so scary, after all.

He was just The Doctor. Big ole' goofy and cute Eleven. My funny Space Lord friend.

I spoke kindly, words a soft whisper. "I may have sorta, kinda, to the teeniest degree... missed you."

His entire face lit up, the joy practically radiating off him. In one fluid motion, he kicked off his shoes and slid up onto the bed, lying down next to me. We ended up facing each other on our sides, nose-to-nose, our eyes locking.

There was a hazel shade to his greens that was endearing. His breath smelled of tea leading me to believe he'd just had a cuppa.

"Yeah, well," he said, grinning, "I may have missed you too. There were these fish aliens in Venice that we had to defeat, but at first, we were positive they were vampires—"

"Yeah, well," I cut in, "River made me help her defeat Dracula. And he was actually a vampire."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "You're lying. Vampires aren't real! 907 years, I'd know by now!"

Childish in many ways for 907 years alive. It isn't a bad thing, just an observation about him.

It was hard not to notice that he seemed comfortable around me. Like even more comfortable than he was around Amy in many ways. He wasn't afraid to let his guard down around me—not afraid to show his inner teddy bear.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, he was as close to a vampire as one can get. Some alien race turned him into one, but he wasn't a fish—just a vampire. Apparently, vampires were made by aliens."

He stared at me in mock disbelief before breaking into a laugh. "You're completely mad."

"Yeah," I said, smirking. "Takes one to know one."

Maybe it's because we're both insane? Nah.

We lay there talking for hours, catching up on what had gone down.

The Doctor explained how he had to sacrifice the species of Saturnyne in order to ensure the safety of the humans. Because the stupid fish people were hunting young women and transforming them (there was a 50/50 chance a person would die in the process), and then they planned to sink the city of Venice.

I could see it clear as day. The Doctor did what he had to—because if he allowed the species to live on Earth, allowed them to take Venice—the fish of Saturnyne only would have continued to sink various cities around the planet until there was nothing left but water and humanity was but a dream.

And the Doctor loved humanity far too much to ever let that happen.

I did not need to be a genius to realize that the Doctor loved humans so much because they reminded him of the TimeLords.

Early TimeLords, at least. Before the TimeLords became what they were through immense exposure to the Time Vortex.

I had smiled at him sadly while he told me—able to sense his inner grief about what he had done.

My hand, an innocent enough gesture, came up and stroked through his hair comfortingly. His eyes had closed and he leaned into my touch.

His hair was soft. Fluffy.

And for just a moment I considered leaning just a few inches in and kissing him. Kissing him in the dimness of my room, in my bed with the glow of the holographic television in the background.

I just wanted to try to it. To taste the tea on his lips and the stars on his tongue.

Just once—I swear, it would mean nothing.

But no, such a thing is foolish.

So no, I made no such move; I only continued to stroke his hair... allowing him to bask in the comfort of it before telling him what River and I had been up to the last month.

I purposely left out the part of the story where I started a slave uprising and incited humanity to tear apart the Ylivad. The Doctor believes the alien race that created "Dracula" left soon after powering him up. He didn't realize the full extent of it.

He might understand better than I thought, now that I know he himself allowed a species to go extinct for the sake of humanity.

But some things are better left unsaid. Often secrets kept it less complicated.

His nose scrunched in disapproval at some stories I told: like the multitude of bar fights River and I began, the street racing in Tokyo, and the Sabrina Carpenter concert—but he was more envious because he'd wanted to go.

I assured him we could go to another one, preferably her Halloween-themed concert. Or better yet, perhaps we could do Michael Jackson.

The Doctor was more than on-board with that, and then he suggested about a dozen other human artists he'd like to take me to in concert.

But then as we spoke, and I told him how wonderful River Song was—he got a thoughtful expression. He did not know her well yet, but he would, and there was no doubt he'd eventually treasure her.

He was especially jealous when I told him of our various jaunts through the nicest resorts in the galaxy and our trips to shining beaches. However, not to my shock, he also had many critiques and other suggestions as to where we should've gone.

By the end of my retelling of the daring tales of the last month, I was left blushing when the Doctor told me I now seemed softer. A bit more gentle with fewer walls—and perhaps I was, maybe that is River Song's specialty. That woman was able to hammer through walls like they were doors.

He chuckled at the expression on my face, and I only rolled my eyes.

Nevertheless, he was kicked out of my room to go put on his 'jammies'—as he called them—and I set up the first Hobbit movie. He came back minutes later in his funny blue pajamas wearing that old-school hat with a big bowl of hot popcorn in his hands.

The Doctor hopped onto the bed with an exaggerated bounce, making the mattress wobble beneath us. He held the bowl of popcorn high like a trophy, grinning as he flopped down beside me on his stomach. His silly blue pajamas clashed wonderfully with the absurd nightcap perched atop his head, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Comfy?" I teased, nudging him with my elbow as he shoved the popcorn bowl between us.

"Absolutely. There's no better way to experience Middle-earth than with snacks, in my jammies, and..." He gestured grandly at me. "—Your delightful company."

I snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Doctor."

"Ah, but it's not flattery; it's a fact," He said, winking before grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing it into his mouth.

The room dimmed further as the movie began to play. The familiar notes of the Shire theme filled the air, and the sweeping imagery of green hills and hobbit holes rolled across the screen. Bilbo's monologue came next.

"Oh, I truly do love opening credits! So dramatic!" The Doctor exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "I remember this era of filmmaking. So much creativity! Look at those costumes—absolutely dreadful, aren't they? But the special effects are not bad for the time. Did you know the director originally wanted to use actual—?"

I groaned, already seeing where this was going. "Doctor..."

"And did you know that Peter Jackson made some questionable creative choices when adapting this? Like splitting one book into three films—three! Pure nonsense. I mean, one film, maybe two, but three? And don't even get me started on—"

"Doctor."

"—The absurd addition of Tauriel. I'm not saying she's a bad character, but she wasn't in the book, and Legolas—"

How can one not find this idiot absolutely adorable?

"Doctor!"

He blinked owlishly at me, mid-ramble, as I raised a hand and firmly placed it over his mouth. His eyes widened comically, and I smirked.

"Be quiet, Space Lord Eleven," I said, my tone warm and teasing.

The Doctor's eyes sparkled as he dramatically licked the palm of my hand. I yelped, yanking it away. "Ugh! Nasty!"

"Not nasty, dearest," He retorted, his grin unabashed.

I glared at him half-heartedly, wiping my hand on his sleeve. "You're annoying."

"Back at you," He said, his voice smug but softened with affection as he draped an arm around my shoulders.

I let out a mock exasperated sigh but didn't shrug him off. Instead, I leaned into the warmth of his side as we both settled in at the foot of the bed on our stomachs. The movie continued to play, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows across the room.

For a moment, it was just us: two companions sharing popcorn and watching a story about dwarves, dragons, and hobbits.

Was I technically his intern? I guess—but it was more of a running joke than anything else. Truth be told, I was a companion.

As the movie unfolded, I glanced at the Doctor many times. His gaze was fixed on the screen, his face aglow with childlike wonder. It was in these small moments, where his defenses were down and his brilliant mind wasn't racing a mile a minute, that I saw the heart of who he truly was clear as day.

A really really good man.