“Oh, I was a string bean then, too, you weren’t wrong,” he replied as he continued to brush his fingertips over the simple little paper frog in his hands, even if he was agreeing with her teasing nickname for the previous incarnation of himself that she knew best. “Honestly, bit surprised you don’t call me that, too. Or a skinny streak of nothing, I think I remember you saying, once or twice. I’m just about as thin, I think, if not thinner this time ‘round… Unless there was a different reason you called him that?” he wondered, finally raising his head to look toward where her voice had come from, brows furrowing curiously.
His hands were still focused on the frog, however. He doubted he’d tire of running his fingers over it any time soon.
His brows furrowed more as she explained, a small confused frown on his lips. “Frogs are considered wise? I’d have… I’d have thought more of owls, I think, or turtles, considering how long a turtle can live f–” he stopped, mid-word, blinking at her. “Is that why you consider me wise? Because of how long I’ve lived?” he asked, a bit more surprised than confused now.
He smiled at the idea of Donna with her little folded paper zoo, trying to cheer up her co-workers all the while, but he couldn’t help the chuckle that left him when she mentioned her hypothetical-alien boss hiding under a desk at the sight of him. “Oh, I’d certainly have left him that way, or worse, had he tried anything with you,” he admitted honestly, his hearts aching at the very idea of Donna, especially a pre-current Donna, with all her low-self esteem and very little experience with anything otherworldly—though he didn’t doubt she’d have fought, even then. Donna had always had a fire in her, always—having to deal with an alien such as that.
“Nope. Haven’t done a thing to the fidget cubes. Humans can make wonderful things all on their own, no alien changes required. Like you and this little frog. I think it’s wonderful, this frog, just a bit of paper and careful fingers…” he told her, before humming thoughtfully. “I feel like you’d like the crunchier slimes, in any case. Not the more… Watery ones, if you ever tried to mess with slime, but I won’t go about making you mess about with slime,” he couldn’t help but add, thinking she’d enjoy the feel of the little foam bits in her hands and the noise.
“I like when people record themselves reading books, but it’s more them… Recording the page-turning and all that. That’s nice. Then there’s some where they’ve got a machine, and it crushes things–all sorts of things. Some of them make very pleasant sounds. Though, I’ve also watched a few where they try to crush things and everything goes sideways–things explode, sometimes there’s fire… It’s all so interesting, those ones,” he started, “But then other times I’ll listen to rainfall. Not storms, just… Soft rain. Especially ones where it’s off tin roofs and things like that, those are very calming…”
He blinked when she mentioned the TARDIS, head tilting upward to look at the ceiling curiously. “Did she? I’m glad that helps, and that you were able to finds tones that work just right for you,” he told her, tilting his head back down after he’d sent waves of gratitude toward the Old Girl. “She’s done that for me once or twice, with the ambient tones… It doesn’t work as often as she’d like, but… She knows how little I sleep, and even more how little I get restful sleep, so she tries,” he said quietly, directing his attention back to the frog.
He couldn’t help but beam at the idea of Donna leaving him with more little frogs, in all different colors, since frogs weren’t just green. “I can’t wait,” he told her, still beaming, before he moved one hand from the frog and felt around his belt loop for the little clip that held the holder for the fidget cube to unclip it and tug it out of his pocket. It was, in fact, the one that was meant to be a starry sky, and he brought it up, carefully setting it, belt-clip, rubber holder, and all, in front of where she sat. “You’re free to mess about with that one for the moment, if you’d like, until you find one of my other ones you think you’d like more, color-wise. If none of them seem as nice, though, you can keep that one and I’ll get another sometime,” he offered genuinely, his smile gentler now but his expression no less brightened.
For the first time in a long time, she really eyed him up. Sat right back and narrowed her eyes to take him in. She wondered if he could tell she was doing it. Probably. That man never missed a damn thing. He was right. He was a bit of nothing. She wondered if he had some kind of alien metabolism that she couldn’t wrap her head around. “I think it’s because of your face,” she admitted moments later, settling properly into her seat. She tilted her head just so, tracing the lines of his jaw until it disappeared into his hair. “This face of yours demands so much attention... I can’t seem to keep my eyes off it.” She realized that was a hell of an admission but she was prepared to say it. “I guess I never noticed that you’re a bit of a twig elsewhere.” She snorted a laugh, hoping he would realize that just like old times, she was teasing him in the only way she knew how.
She watched him, practically seeing the way his mind worked as he came to his conclusions. “I mean your age is an obvious answer. But I didn’t really know just how old was old when we first met. But you were wise then and you are wise now. Sure, sometimes you miss a thing or two when it comes to human interaction but that is hardly your fault. We are a messy lot, always evolving and taking on ridiculous rituals. I would love to know who invented the high five. Such a strange way to celebrate something...” She raised her hands and slapped them together, making a face while she did so.
She had missed this so much, just sitting quietly in the TARDIS and talking about anything. Tonight was more focused, a discussion on what might help given her shift back into understanding that the world was so much more than her tiny neighborhood in Chiswick. She wondered if he had a point, if she should try a few of his suggestions. She was sure that whatever she asked for in the end, he would do his best to get it for her. She was hoping that now it was more about being her friend than doing it out of any residual feelings of guilt. She didn’t want him to let it drag at him forever. He didn’t deserve that; she had been angry at first but it had faded and rightfully so.
“A bedtime story for a Time Lord. Just what it is that you listen to? The classics --- not just from Earth but every other planet out there?” She would have to break into his stash and see. She rather liked the idea of being read to as she drifted off. “Rain is lovely, waves on a beach too. Sometimes just the sound of a crackling fire. Makes me think of Christmastime as a child, curled up on my father’s knee. But for now, I am grateful to the TARDIS for knowing what I needed when I needed it and giving it to me without me even having to ask.” She meant it. She knew that she and the ship hadn’t always seen eye to eye but she liked to think that the TARDIS going out of her way to make Donna feel safe meant something.
She watched as he set the cube in front of her, waiting a beat or two before reaching out to take it. She smiled as her fingers curled around it. “I will definitely give it a whirl. I appreciate you letting me have it. I feel with time things will settle more in this head of mine and then...well, I will be able to relax. As as possible when you’re Donna Noble. I don’t think mellow will ever be a word that is used to describe me.”
