Here you go @alix-Winchester! Apologies - I always seem to take the line of dialog a person has requested and give it to the opposite person from who they had in mind. I’m perverse that way. :)
Two Close For Comfort Part 2
Read Part One Here
When you stepped into the console room, the Doctor was there, sitting on the jump seat with one long leg crossed over the other, staring at the wall and jiggling his foot, clearly waiting for you. You dropped the bag at his feet and opened your mouth to offer a pithy remark when he raised his eyes to your face, and the words died in your throat.
“You,” he said quietly, enunciating each word clearly and carefully, “are a liar.”
His eyes were dark and clouded in shadow, his face looked ancient and haggard, and you felt pinned in place beneath the intensity of his regard. It took all of your willpower to fight the urge to take a small step back.
“No I’m not,” you replied weakly.
You could tell from the look on his face that he knew he had the upper hand.
“You,” he repeated, with increased intensity, “are lying. We’re both fully aware of that.”
You stared at him, transfixed, as he stood up and took a step towards you. Was he angry? Was he just weary? You really couldn’t tell. This time you did take a step back, aware of the railing not far behind you cutting off your means of escape.
“What I want to know is, why are you lying?” he continued. “What’s got you so worked up that you’re trying to tick me off enough to take you home?”
“Stop it,” you mumbled. “You’re wrong.”
“You’re not good at this, you know,” he said, in an oddly conversational tone. “I can see right through you. You’re afraid, and you’re lashing out. And I’m not taking you home or anywhere else until we get to the bottom of this.”
There you were, exposed. Seen. You felt like your skin had been peeled off and the slightest breeze could destroy you. You couldn’t help it, every muscle just started shaking as you felt yourself overcome with an emotion you couldn’t name. Loss, pain, confusion. You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly and turned away while you tried to get the ragged gasps of your breath under control.
The next thing you knew you were pressed in a firm hold against the Doctor with your eyes squeezed tight against tears you utterly refused to shed, hearing without understanding his comforting, calming words encouraging you to breathe more slowly, feeling the warmth seep back into your bones a little. When you finally loosened your muscles enough to move, he gently helped you into the jump seat and crouched in front of you, sonic in hand, running it over you and checking it with a frown before pocketing it to focus on you.
“Adrenaline. Panic. Now what’s this all about?” he said gently, grabbing one of your hands.
You took a shuddering breath. “You’re – you’re –”
He squeezed your hand in his. “I’m what?”
“You’re my friend!”
“Yes, we know that. And?”
“And that’s bad. This was supposed to be nothing important. I wasn’t supposed to need you.”
He looked utterly gobsmacked. “Needing people is bad?”
“It is for me,” you said with a sniffle.
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m awful,” you finally admitted. “No one likes me for long.”
He rocked back on his heels and thought about that one for a minute. “Well I like you.”
“You won’t. Not after a while.”
“Well what’s so bad about you?” he asked. “Cos I’ve known some pretty bad folk, and I have to say I don’t see it in you.”
You blew your bangs out of your eyes and decided to give him the full list. “I’m prickly. I fight with people for no reason. I can’t keep a secret. I push people away. My singing voice is terrible. I’m incredibly defensive. I lie easily. My clothes never match. Surprises give me panic attacks. I’m really good at insulting people. Like, really good. I strike first and think about it later.”
“Ah,” he said when you paused for breath, a slight twinkle appearing in his eye. “Those are some pretty serious allegations.”
“Don’t do that!” you shouted.
“Do what?”
“Don’t be all – charming!” You shook a finger at him. “You should be glad I’m leaving. You’d get sick of me anyways and wish I’d gone. Everyone does.” Your voice broke a little. “Everyone leaves me. And I’m starting to want to stay here with you way too much. I want to be here forever.”
You cursed inwardly as the tears you’d been avoiding so strenuously started to leak out of their own accord.
The Doctor rummaged in his pockets until he found a clean handkerchief, which he passed to you. He waited a few moments for you to calm down, then he settled down next to you on the jump seat and leaned forward, hands on his knees.
“Y/N,” he said gently, “there’s no such thing as forever. There are some pretty long stretches of time, stretches you couldn’t possibly imagine, but everything has a beginning, and everything has an end. I can’t promise you that you can stay here forever. You’ll change, I’ll change, you might eventually fall in love or find a cause you can’t abandon or decide you want to go home for a better reason than your fear. One of us might get hurt or injured in ways we can’t repair easily.”
“This is your comforting routine?” you said wryly. “Because it needs some work.”
“But my point is, why go looking for problems before they occur?” he said, ignoring your attempt at humor. “I see more in you than those things. For each of those things you listed, there’s an opposite quality, or five, or ten. You’ve got a good heart and a snarky sense of humor and you’re quick on your feet and you think carefully about things. You notice everyone’s pain. You can tell what people are feeling. And what’s more, you’re my friend. I care about you.”
You huffed doubtfully.
“I do,” he said firmly. “And I want you to stay. If, you know, it’s not too boring.”
You scuffed your feet on the floor, feeling ashamed. “It’s not boring. I don’t know why I said that.”
He smiled at you. “I know. Honestly, of all the lies you could have come up with about wanting to leave, that has to be about the worst one I’ve ever heard.”
You cracked a grin in spite of yourself. “I know. I’m sorry.”
He gave you a genuine smile back, and for once you just took it in stride, without fear. “Let’s just give this a try, ok? I’m not such a great package deal either if you look at the full list of pros and cons. But we work well together and I care about you. I’d like you to stay.”
“I’d like that too,” you admitted.
“Oh, and Y/N?” he added.
“Yes?”
“Everyone gets scared,” he said. “Even me. Just try to talk to me about it instead of coming out swinging, okay?”
“I’ll try,” you said, knowing inside that this was probably going to be one of the harder challenges you’d taken on. Letting someone matter enough to stick around. You knew you’d probably do this to him again; it’s hard to fight the habits of a lifetime. But you also knew that the Doctor was onto you now, that he had your number, and that he was eventually going to want to know more about all of this, find out where this came from. Perhaps, just perhaps, here was someone who would help you fight back your demons.
Hello! Could I get the Doctors reaction for finding out the reader is pregnant? With 10 and whoever else you want to do, thank you!
Hi Freestarlight - sorry for the delay on this, I was off on vacation and just returned. Here’s your preference!
Comparing Doctors: Finding out you’re pregnant
Wasn’t sure if the scenario you’re asking for is that you’repregnant with the Doctor’s baby or if he finds out that you’re pregnant withsomeone else’s baby. I could see a lot of ways to go with this one!
The ninth doctor is completely oblivious, partlybecause it never occurs to him that anything so happy and positive could happento him, the destroyer of worlds. He likely wouldn’t even believe you when youfirst told him, or he would deliberately misunderstand and react with tightlycontrolled jealousy and bitterness thinking that you were telling him that oneof your “pretty boys” got you pregnant. Once you finished yelling at him forbeing such a tosser and got him to understand that you were actually pregnantwith his child he would be embarrassed and delighted and work out with you howall the domestics were going to be handled.
The tenth doctor would know before you did, andwould alternate at blinding speeds between complete terror and utter delight. Hewould stare at you in shock when you told him, refuse to believe it at first,but then the most brilliant grin would spread across his face. You’d have a hard time keeping upwith his dizzying mood changes, and you’d slowly realize that the idea of ababy and the vulnerability it represents is terrifying to him. He’d doeverything in his power to protect you and keep you safe, and would likely beentirely overprotective of you in ways that would drive you bonkers.
The eleventh doctor would react with childlikedelight, and immediately insist on taking you shopping at the galaxy’s bestbaby bazaar for all kinds of essentials you hadn’t even thought of yet. You’d almost get the sense that he saw thebaby as more of a new playmate than as a child, at times, but you’d also catchhim at odd moments planning for the future with a certain gravity and purposethat would show you he was preparing to be a father.
The twelfth doctor would be moved almost totears, and would respond tenderly and quietly. He’d immediately get you to medbay for a checkup, load you up with vitamins, and start reading all sorts ofbooks with you about how to raise a human-Time Lord hybrid. You’d catch him playingthings on his guitar that sound suspiciously like lullabies from time to time.You might find him collecting things like tiny little sunglasses for what heprobably hopes is a son.
Scenario: you reveal that you grew up in a hot climate and have heard of but never really seen snow. How does each Doctor react?
Please send asks! I’d love to know what you want to imagine. :)
_______
“What kind of rubbish place did you grow up in?” the Ninth Doctor would say, indignant on your behalf, and then immediately bundle you off to Antarctica, followed by the snow planet of Ursa Minor, followed by the sledding fields of Gremulus 5 – all very lovely except for the fact that he forgot to provide you with a coat. The TARDIS would fix his oversight as soon as she realized you were in literal danger of freezing. You’d stick your mittened hand in your warm pockets and enjoy the sights.
When he found out you’d never seen snow, the Tenth Doctor would act nonchalant about it but immediately begin planning the biggest surprise. He’d arrange to take you somewhere like New York or Scotland, just before a snow flurry was about to begin, then watch your face light up as big, fluffy flakes began to fall from the sky. He’d hand you a thick scarf to wrap around your neck and help you make snow angels once the ground cover was thick enough. His smile, if possible, would be even bigger than yours.
The Eleventh Doctor would not only immediately take you to see snow, he’d fill the freezer in the TARDIS kitchen with snowballs, so you could have a snowball fight whenever you wanted. He’d be less pleased about the brilliance of this idea when you decided to sneak them on a tray into the swimming pool room and pelt him with snowballs while he was in his swim trunks. They all melted, but it was totally worth it.
The Twelfth Doctor would set out to delight you with snow. But not regular snow – he’d take you to a world where the snow was pink, then one where it was scented like flowers, then one where the snow fell up from the ground towards the tree tops. You’d have to beg him to take you to see plain, ordinary Earth snow. He’d have completely forgotten it.
Hello I love your writing! Could I get a 10 x reader imagine with the prompts “Do you know how much I’ve been thinking about you? What it’d be like to marry you?” and "You're lucky you're so cute."? Thank you so much!! 🖤
Here you go @freestarlight!
–
DW Prompt: Thinking About You
It was a near miss. You’d been visiting a world run by treespirits – some kind and benevolent, some rather unruly and wild – when you found yourself separated from the Doctor by arogue group of them. They spoke a language the TARDIS didn’t seem to translatewell, and you couldn’t tell quite what was going on. Although they didn’t seemto mean you any serious harm, you quickly found yourself bound, encapsulated insome kind of unbreakable material, and roughly planted in the ground up to yourneck with the dirt carefully and firmly patted down around you.
“I’m not a plant,” you called plaintively to theirretreating backs, but they didn’t even seem to register your voice. You weren’ta tree spirit, so to them, obviously, you were a plant to be planted, tendedto, and (oh god, really?) possibly watered later.
You hoped not, on the watering. In the meantime, you satback and waited for the Doctor to arrive.
To his credit, it only took him two hours to find you.
It took about another two hours for you to forgive him forthe fact that his first response was to laugh when he found you neck-deep inthe ground.
“All right, all right,” he said good-naturedly, pulling somekind of foldable shovel thing out of some obscure pocket in his coat. He tookan experimental go at the ground and found it hard and rather firmly packed. “Let’sget you out of there. Of all the predicaments to get yourself into…”
You pulled a face. “I didn’t get myself into it, those treethings did!”
“At least they got you right side up,” he said.
“If they hadn’t, I’d be dead, you realize,” you pointed outhelpfully, which did take some of the humor out of his eyes. “Two hours I’dhave been waiting here upside down in a hole with no air.”
He squatted down and pointed at you quite seriously. “Don’teven joke about that, Y/N. Not ever.”
You managed to look apologetic despite the fact that youwere pretty sure there was a worm doing something to your leg. Luckily the Doctor didn’t make a further issue of it. Heset to work and pretty quickly had you free.
The Doctor reached a hand down to help youscramble out, then leaned from side to side to stretch out his back. “You’re lucky you’re so cute,” he said with mock severityand a sparkle in his eye. “I wouldn’t be doing this kind of manual labor forjust anyone, you know.”
You leaned over to plant a kiss on his nose. “I know, Iknow. Thank you for unplanting me.”
He looped his arm around your waist and pulled you in closerfor one more long, lingering kiss, then leaned his forehead against yours. “We’dbest get back to the ship,” he said quietly. “No idea when the gardening crewwill be back to see how you’re doing, but we can’t risk both of us beingcaught.”
***
Your walk to the TARDIS was uneventful, and the Doctorquickly set coordinates to take you off into the vortex. Once the ship wassafely hidden away, he all but dragged you to med bay for a thorough check up,just to make sure nothing was wrong.
You sat on the exam table swinging your legs while youwatched him work. Temperature, vitals, eye color, skin check – at some pointyou lost count of the tests he was doing. He mumbled to himself and you knewfrom past experiences not to interrupt him. You’d realized long ago that thiswas less about you and more about him reassuring himself that you weren’t hurt.
“Well?” you asked when he finally seemed to reach a stoppingpoint.
He smiled at you brightly. “Y/N, you are possessed of aclean bill of health. No aftereffects of your afternoon in the ground.”
You giggled and pulled him in by his lapels. “Well that’s arelief,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck, “because I couldn’t dothis when I was planted.”
When he came up for air after your best attempt to snog himsenseless, he had a much more serious look on his face then you’d planned.
“What’s with the frown?” you asked. “You don’t usually frownwhen I kiss you.”
“Oh no,” he assured you, “has nothing to do with the kiss.The kissing was lovely. Perfect even. I was just thinking about when I wastrying to find you. Had no idea where you were, really, and neither did anyoneelse, didn’t know if you were hurt or wounded or worse.” He paused and ran ahand through his hair. “I really, really hate that.”
You rubbed a hand down his back appreciatively. “I know. Notso fond of it myself either.”
“I just kept thinking about you, what might be happening toyou, what if you were hurt.” He paused and huffed out a breath. “Not that that’sunusual. I think about you literally all the time. It’s like there’s a portionof my brain that’s strictly devoted to Y/N contemplation at least 90% of thetime. No, more like 97%.”
You grinned. “That seems like a good use of a tiny portionof your ginormous, time lord brain to me.”
He grinned back, but in a strangely serious way. “I’m notkidding. Do you know how much I’ve been thinking about you? It defies allreason. I think about your hair and how good it smells when I’m negotiating acease fire. I think about kissing you in the middle of TARDIS repairs. I thinkabout where I want to take you next when we’re getting shot at. I think aboutwhat it would be like to be married to you –“
He stopped abruptly.
You nearly held your breath, not sure how to respond. “Youdo?” you finally asked quietly.
He looked away from you, almost bashful. “Pretty much constantly.”
You wrapped your fingers around his, feeling oddly shy yourself.“I think that’s lovely,” you said. “And I think about it too. Maybe anadventure we’ll have together one day.”
He smiled and leaned over to kiss you once more, soft andsweet. “You always know the perfect thing to say to me.”
Hey, because I loved the last one you made for me and the last one you posted, would you possibly do another preference for me? In which the Doctor sees you drunk for the first time and how he deals with it? Thanks in advance, you are really awesome.
You bet! Here you go:
Comparing Doctors: Drinky Dranky
Scenario: the Doctorfinds you at a pub with your mates having had a bit too much to drink. Howwould they react to finding you drunk?
The ninth doctor would be watchful from afar, but not be in the least hesitant to call an end to the fun when he feels you’ve had enough. He’d be half amused and half annoyed by your behavior while he walked you backto the TARDIS – you’d reveal yourself to be kind of a giddy drunk, full of laughter and really, really bad jokes, and you’d trip over nothing and hold onto him for support. He’d slide an arm around you and keep you steady, while mentally building a list of all the most embarrassing things you were saying to remind you of later. Fair is fair, after all.
The tenth doctor would insert himself right into the midst of your gathering and try to take part in the fun as a means of keeping tabs on you. He’d plop right down on the couch with you and your mates, put an arm around each of you, grin brilliantly, and say, “Right then, what’re we doing? Playing quarters? Ohhhhhh yes, I’m the best at quarters. You don’t know quarters until you’ve played with a Judoon.” Soon everyone would belooking askance at you and your strangely over-enthusiastic friend and the party would break up naturally. He’d take you home and feed you lots and lots of water and put you to sleep on the couch where he could keep an eye on you. Whenyou accuse him of purposely driving everyone you were drinking with away, he’d just look innocent.
The eleventh doctor would, quite honestly, disapprove. He’d cluck his tongue, hand you a big, huge glass of water, and then make you take a pill that instantly metabolizes all the alcohol in your system. He’d lecture you a bit, in his best schoolmarm voice, about how drinking too much can be dangerous and you need to be more careful and aware of your surroundings.Besides, he’d say, it’s much more fun to dance when you’re sober – and he’d drag you out onto the dance floor for a version of his crazy giraffe dance that left you wishing you were intoxicated again so you wouldn’t notice everyone staring.
The twelfth doctor would put you to bed, check on you at least twice, then make you a huge and noisy pan of eggs in the morning (your head!) and feed you a disgusting concoction he called a hangover cure (your stomach!) that made you feel awful but then cured you completely. You would come to suspect, later, that he probably had a simple pill somewhere that would have done the job of curing your hangover but that the grossness of his cure was a deliberate and subtle form of getting back at you. He’d offer no reproaches, and you’d notice the adventures he chose for that day were a little more low key than normal.
Apologies - I’ve lost track of the actual message this request came in, but this is for the anon reader who asked for a take on getting lost in a crowd when exploring a market with the Tenth Doctor. Enjoy!
___
It had not been the best of days. You’d begun it trying to help with peace negotiations between two rival tribes on a small desert world on the outer rim of the Medusa Cascade. The Doctor was well known to them and sure he’d be able to help, but somehow, something went wrong - some breach of protocol he hadn’t anticipated, and the two of you were unceremoniously ejected from the proceedings with an utter lack of dignity and a few curses that left the Doctor feeling obviously bruised.
Left at loose ends, you ended up strolling through the capital city’s rather extensive marketplace at what seemed to be the height of rush hour. There were people on foot everywhere, thousands of them, and hundreds of vendors selling their wares. You and the Doctor strolled slowly, sticking to the edges of the crowds to avoid getting swept along. You could tell he was thinking over what had just happened, analyzing what had gone wrong. You were trying to give him some space, occasionally distract him a little with light conversation. He smiled back absently to each of your forays but the smile never really reached his eyes.
In the end you fell silent and just tried to enjoy the sights around you. A pile of brightly colored, intricately woven fabric on a nearby table caught your eye.
“Doctor, hang on, I want to look at this,” you said. You heard a noncommittal grunt in response and went off to investigate. The fabric was light and sheer, sparkling with color and small flecks of gold and silver, and more beautiful than anything you’d ever seen. The vendor helped you arrange one around your neck and hair in the manner of locals, and you tried several colors, admiring the results in a mirror.
It wasn’t until you turned around to show the Doctor what you’d found that you realized he was nowhere in sight. The market around you was a literal crush of bodies, tall, skinny, short, fat, pink, brown, even an oddly gorgeous lavender shade of skin - but no sign of that ruffled hair or pin stripe suit or trainers. No glasses, no frown, no nothing.
You were, apparently, on your own.
You didn’t take it too seriously at first. Figuring he’d come back to find you, you purchased the length of sky blue linen you liked best and wrapped it around you like a shawl, enjoying looking just a little bit more like one of the locals. You browsed a few more tables. You waited. No results.
Well, you thought, I guess I better go looking for him.
It didn’t take long for you to realize that the market was even larger than you had thought. You wandered in roughly the direction you thought he’d been heading when you last saw him for a good half hour without ever finding a break in the stalls. It was made even more confusing by the seemingly random organization of everything. If there was a pattern to the stalls’ placement, you couldn’t see it - linens and exotic crystals and strange foods you couldn’t label were side by side with huge piles of pungent spices, local fashions, machine parts. The locals clearly understood how to navigate but you were soon thoroughly, completely turned around.
It was a relief when you suddenly found a fountain in a small clearing - something different, a landmark of sorts. Exhausted, hot, thirsty, and suddenly feeling very alone, you sat down on the edge of the fountain in the pounding sunlight to wait.
***
You estimated about an hour had passed when you finally saw him entering the square from the opposite side. His face looked pinched and worried until he saw you - and then his expression morphed through a quick combination of relief, happiness, and utter crossness as he stalked over to your side.
“Y/N, I have been looking for you for two hours!” he said, not raising his voice but still managing to sound like a disapproving school teacher.
“So’ve I!” you said indignantly, deciding that the best defense in this situation was probably cheek. “You’ve really got to stop wandering off like this, Doctor. I mean honestly, we’ve talked about this how many times?”
He gawped at you. “Me? Me wandering off? Have you lost your mind?”
You couldn’t help but grin at him - he just looked so gobsmacked.
“Oh,” he said, frowning at you as he realized you were pulling his leg. “Very amusing, Y/N. Very, very amusing. I see you woke up funny today.”
“I wake up funny most days,” you said pleasantly.
He sat down next to you with a grunt. “Don’t I just know it.”
“Sorry,” you conceded. “But in all fairness, you basically left me behind. I told you I was stopping to look at something. You made a noise like you heard me. And then you just disappeared.”
“I did?” He looked a little embarrassed and covered for it by cleaning his spectacles on his shirt. “Don’t remember that happening. Of course it’s far from my best day, all things considered. Got tossed out of the legislature on one of my favorite worlds. Blew the negotiation. Apparently abandoned you in a crowd of thousands.” He held his glasses up and peered through them, checking for dust. “Not really my finest work.”
You considered him for a moment, deeply surprised. The Doctor wasn’t usually one to admit to any weakness, but his shoulders were drooping and you could tell he was really worn down by today. You leaned over and rested your head against his shoulder for a moment, trying to radiate your support. He seemed to welcome the touch.
“You know what you need?” you asked.
“Oh please, tell…”
“Ice cream. You need ice cream,” you announced. “I’m pretty sure I saw the equivalent of ice cream about 14 or 15 turns back. In one of these directions. That way?” You stood up and faced one direction and then turned a quarter turn to face another. “Or was it that way? Doctor, all of these pathways look exactly the same.”
He cracked a small but genuine smile at you. “Good thing, then,” he said, “that you happen to have an excellent navigator with a completely superior - no, with a legendary olfactory system. If there’s ice cream within a kilometer radius, I can smell it.”
He hopped to his feet with some of his more usual enthusiasm showing signs of return and held out a hand to you.
“Follow the schnoz?” you asked playfully, taking his hand.
“That’s right!” he said, pulling you back into the crowd. “Allons-y!”
Scenario: you’ve just come through an adventure with the Doctor in which you took some risks in a fight and ended up cut, bruised, and with a broken arm.
The ninth doctor would have laser-like focus as he cared for you, cleaning your wounds gently and checking your fluids and just generally acting intensely competent. Then he’d proceed to deconstruct for you everything that you could, no should have done differently and all the ways in which humans are breakable and fragile, and tell you not to take chances like this. He’d be firm but not harsh, and something in the openness of his gaze would make you realize how much you mean to him and how hard it would be for him to lose you. You’d feel cared for and safe.
The tenth doctor would be grim faced and, depending on whether he thought you’d been careless, rather furious as he tends to your wounds. His movements would be tightly controlled and he’d keep his eyes on your wounds rather than on your face. He would try to lecture you about safety and end up shouting a bit. You’d try to hold your ground but end up apologizing and feeling small. He’d put you to bed and insist on sitting with you to monitor things. The last thing you’d see before you feel asleep would be his silhouette, stark and lonely, in the chair by your bed and think to yourself that he looked frightened.
The eleventh doctor would be gentle with you, tending to your wounds, cleaning you up ,and patching you back together and all the while berating you, tenderly, about how you need to be more careful. When he finished, he’d boop you on the nose with one finger and ask you to please not do this again. He’d probably give you a lollipop and the next day he would have a new nickname for you that reflected your misadventure.
The twelfth doctor would be very precise in his care for you and would smile at you unconvincingly, trying to shield his emotions from you. He’d insist that you stay in the med bay where he could monitor you even though you knew you would be fine back in your room.
hello. could you do "first things they noticed about you (physically + personality)". by the way I absolutely love your writing. thank you xx
Hi Chris - thank you so much! I’m glad you’re enjoying my little playthings. :)
Here’s your request!
Comparing Doctors: What They Notice About You
The ninth doctor notices your eyes, particularly whether they meet his directly and whether there’s a spark of spirit in them. He notices your posture second, how you hold yourself. Do you appear open, warm,welcoming, defensive, shy, reflective, embarrassed? His senses are finely tuned from too much experience with war and he sizes you up – gods help him, he knows he does and he simply can’t not do it – sizes you up as if you were an enemy who might attempt his life at any moment. After a millisecond of examining you from this perspective, though, he senses that you are warm and curious and open minded and… just like that… you’re accepted. Cautiously accepted, but accepted.
The tenth doctor is drawn to your smile, most of all. He can’t help himself, he begins cataloging the variety of them right away. The shy, nervous smile you get when he invites you into the TARDIS for the first time, not sure what to expect. The great big, delighted smile you get when you first see the console room. The mouth-open, wonder-filled, laughing smile you get when he first floats the ship in space and opens the doors so you can see a nebula. He stores them up to pore over later. He considers what they mean.
The eleventh doctor finds himself noticing your hands. Maybe because his are so expressive – they flap around in the breeze and punctuate each and every syllable, exuberant when he is, sharp and snappish when he’s not. Perhaps this is what draws him to examine yours when he meets you. You may think the eyes are the windows to the soul, but it’s really the hands and fingers. When someone lies, their hands invariably give them away, expressing the discomfort their heart or intellect or soul is ignoring. When someone is warm and affectionate and genuine, their hands are open. Yours, he notes, are extraordinary – still and gentle, but worn and rough in a way that he likes, that indicates you make or create or paint or write. Is that ink? He likes that.
The twelfth doctor notices your intelligence. He doesn’t care if you’re book smart, but he cares if you’re clever. He notices what questions you ask when you first meet, how quickly you adjust to new and utterly strange experiences, how you react to danger, how you assess risk. He likes you immediately for your wit and for the cleverness he senses– something you’ve possibly hidden a bit from others, but that you will feel free to share with the Doctor as you come to know him more.
