Categories > TV > Doctor Who > Ghosts and Secrets

Dress

by AngelDeLaMusique 0 reviews

10th Doctor. It's just a little bit more I wrote.. They aren't really "chapters", but they're related...

Category: Doctor Who - Rating: G - Genres: Drama,Romance - Warnings: [!] [?] - Published: 2007-09-29 - Updated: 2008-01-10 - 394 words

0Unrated
Disclaimer: I don’t own the Doctor! (though I would enjoy that), Doctor Who does not belong to me. They belong to the BBC. This is for fun purposes only and is not meant to make me any money. So relax, enjoy.
10th Doctor- Martha

The Doctor ran his hands up and down the smooth material. It was soft, like how fabric gets from years of being worn; and all the times he’d sat there, gazing lovingly at each crease, at the little hole on the shoulder. He smiled sadly at the dress. It was like a summer dress, made of a cottony cloth, a soft fawn color. He was sad to admit to himself he hadn’t looked at the dress in a long time. But then she had appeared to him, translucent and glowing, like a ghost... Like an Angel. That seemed like so long ago, and she hadn’t yet made another appearance. Maybe he had imagined her appearing to begin with. Maybe she just didn’t like this new regeneration… He went through every possibility whenever he punished himself in the TARDIS’s costume shop. Yesterday it had been Martha’s fault, that she had liked Rose better.
“Doctor?” It was Martha, “Doctor, are you back here?” She peeked into the costume room and he quickly shoved the dress back onto the over-stuffed racks. He stood up, grinning at her amazement. She peered up, admiring the height of it, then straight to be awed at the length.
“Wow,” She said, “This is.. wow.”
The Doctor chuckled, “This isn’t half as bad as when-” He stopped dead, smile and laughter dead in his throat. He was about to mention her, how she had kept something from every place she went to. A dress, a broach, a necklace, a shoe.. Well, she only took one shoe once.
“When what?” Martha asked tentatively. She guessed this was going to be one of those things he swept under the rug, tried to hide from her as if it was important, or maybe it was too personal.
He opened his mouth, as if to say something, as if he was going to explain and Martha’s eyes lit up, straightening up a bit. But then he closed his mouth and shook his head, and she went back to her slight-slouch.
“Where to next?”
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