rude_not_ginger | RP for tastefulfashion

"I read a lot." It was a common reply to that sort of statement. He wondered silently if he really was getting that old. Maybe he just needed some sort of cream or whatever to lessen the non-existent wrinkles.

Her words softened his smile.

"Thank you," he said. And for a man who rarely thanked anyone, he truly meant the words.

Four different incarnations and yet he was still the same man she met so long ago, making her smile and challenging her banters with wit and humor to match.

Her train of thought was interrupted rather abruptly when another couple passing by bumped into her. Now, normally rather graceful on her feet the heels of her shoes did not help to steady the woman. Throwing her off balance entirely her lips formed an 'O' as her eyes widened, stumbling forward right into The Doctor.

Now that was embarrassing!

The Doctor caught her easily and held her up as best he could. More sensible shoes were good to have in this sort of situation.

That did, of course, throw her entirely into his space. Which was embarrassing for him, as he'd become less accustomed to having someone invade his space at all. Especially someone like Romana.

"You all right?" he asked.

Both of her hands were holding onto the sleeves of his tuxedo in order to help steady herself. It was times like these that she wondered why she didn't think twice about the shoes she wore. And of course the reason being was that whatever she chose looked well with the outfit she would wear.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered before adding in a few words of an apology when she realized just how close they were. Their dancing had come to a halt, thankfully the other dancers moving around them as if they were not there. "My apologies."

Edited 2008-02-07 04:02 (UTC)

"Far from your fault."

He smiled a little to show her it was all right. This was...well, it wasn't unpleasant, if a little strange. No, not strange. Strange wasn't the right word. He didn't actually know the right word.

It was not awkward either. It just.. was. Not to mention for once she was unable to think of something clever to say.

Her hands still gripping his arms the smile returned was small. It would not do for the Madame President to appear sheepish but she certainly did still feel the tiniest bit embarrassed.

He thought he should say something. Something witty or possibly clever in order to alleviate some tension that was probably not even there. As it was, he didn't know what to say.

He thought about that old tradition. The one he talked to Astrid about. Funny that he should think about that now.

"Get you onto solid footing, shall we?"

He helped straighten her a bit but when the time came to pull away and dance properly, he couldn't make himself just yet.

Romana nodded her head once. When she was stable once more in those silly shoes of hers, she waited for him to start their dance once more.

When it never came her curiosity got the best of her yet again. She studied his expression to see if she could learn anything, hoping to see even the smallest twitch of his lips that could clue her in.

"Doctor? Is something the matter?"

Edited 2008-02-07 04:31 (UTC)

The matter? A bit. No matter how much he had always tried to convince himself it wasn't so, Romana was always the one who got away. Got away, ran away, then he lost her forever.

And part of him cried out that now was the chance to try for something. Anything. But what good would come of it? He'd just have to give her up to the timeline he already knew was coming.

"No, nothing," he stammered a bit and took her hand again.

Her fingers laced with his, slipping in perfectly in the spaces between. But she did not take a single step forward back into the familiar waltz that filled the air.

All the teasing and the joking and the bantering was set aside. He was lying again, she just knew it. And she remained rooted to the spot as she looked up at him with an unwavering gaze, concern evident in her eyes.

"Please do not make me repeat my question."

Edited 2008-02-07 04:45 (UTC)

"It's just been too long, Romana," he replied. He raised the hand that was not laced with hers to cup the side of her face.

The act was strange and intimate, especially for him. Still, it felt good and it quieted that annoying voice (sounded like his seventh self, the troublemaker) that kept telling him to take some sort of a chance while he had one.

It was a surprising motion as it was to suddenly feel his hand against her skin. What was even more surprisingly was how she reacted, perfectly matching him. The hand that was free came to rest on his arm, a gesture that seemed to fit well, her fingers wrapping around his wrist so close to her cheek.

"I know it has," she admitted. And here they were, Time Lords, dwelling on the length of time. Had she realized that the time that had passed since she had last seen his eighth incarnation was countless time lost of his own timeline... But the idea was not anywhere near coming to realization in her mind.

Moving her from his wrist now to cover his hand, repeating her words in a softer voice, "I know it has."

One last trip. It couldn't be like Martha's "one trip", because Martha's timeline wasn't already complete. Pulling Romana aside here was already dangerous enough. What they had, they had.

He thought about what time he did have with Romana right before the War. Was there anything she said that might've indicated this happened? Was there---

One time. Just once. What would it hurt? He leaned forward, as if to kiss her, then stopped. No. No, timelines. Responsibility. What would Romana say if she knew what he was doing?

He pulled back and took her hand to dance again. It was how they were. Dancing but never really moving forward.

It was a dance they had been dancing for countless centuries. Each time she could remember so vividly: the beginning steps, so new to her, as she learned the pattern through the madness of their travels with his Fourth.

By chance it was that she fell into the familiar motions with his sixth that day she had managed to escape the Dalek imprisonment, the beginning of her Presidency.

And when it came time to repeat the waltz she found herself with his eighth moving from Cambridge to Shada, all in the rush of time moving ever so quickly. But that was how it always was whenever she found herself in his company - time never slowed down for them, not once.

Gripping his hand firmly she allowed herself to be caught up in the music's embrace. There was something wrong but she could not understand what it was. Trusting his, watching him. If just this once time would slow its pace for them. Slow and peaceful as the notes filling the air.

"Doctor, I..." She what? She wanted him to allow her to stay?

In the very depths of both of her hearts, the tiny part of selfish desires begged to stay here, wanting for more than one trip. It was impossible to go back to the past. And Gallifrey was her responsibility. Despite the fragile structure that was unraveling itself before her eyes she was still determined to bring about the change that was needed. And wishing like this would do nothing to save their home. It was disgusting and childish of her to think of such a thing.

He knew that look. It was a look so many companions had given him right before they asked to travel with him or he cut them off with the question 'Do you want to come with me?' because he knew they wanted to. She wanted to stay for a while. Neither of them wanted to be alone.

And if she asked, he'd never be able to say no.

Before she could, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her mouth. More than a little nervous and very little more than completely chaste. Enough to keep her from asking.

The words were gone. The desire to ask such a foolish request was silenced by his lips pressing against her own, an answer that came before the question.

One of her hands had now taken to resting against his cheek this time. Pressing a second kiss now to match his first she spoke not a word, only holding his hand with her other still.

She kissed back. And again. The realization was almost enough to stun him into nonmovement. That, of course, would've really been a disaster on a dance floor and while kissing Romanadvortralundar.

The hand at her hip pulled her a little closer. Not much. Not terribly. Just a little. Like the difference between a torohammer projection and a sereseta projection. Slight, but significant.

He also deepened the kiss very slightly, parting his mouth. How long had he wondered what it would be like to kiss Romana? A long time. A very long time. And now he was kissing her. That was also stunning! And fantastic. And lots of other adjectives why was his brain still going a million lightyears a second? It made concentrating exceptionally difficult and if he was going to have the chance to snog Romana, even just once, he wanted to be able to concentrate fully on the act.

To concentrate in a crowded room such as this would certainly be a task, to say the least, but it mattered so little to this woman now. Her hand just barely brushed against his neck when moving to his shoulder. The very tips of her fingers were pressing against the fabric of his tuxedo as her own lips parted against his.

Kissing the man who was once her mentor was nothing she could have imagined. But then again her mind did little to imagine much these days save for the peace she could find after a meeting with the council or dealing with the stressing matters of home. It only encouraged her to close the distance between them just a bit more.

Both of her hearts were pounding rapidly in her chest. The smallest sound of content could just barely be heard from her.

Edited 2008-02-07 06:25 (UTC)

What was that? Was that a sound? What did that sound mean? It had to have meant something! There was some small panic bubbling up until he realized the noise sounded more content than anything else. Content was good! Content meant he was doing something right! He liked not making a horrific error!

And kissing her was pleasant. Wonderful, his mind corrected him.

He had so much he wanted to tell her. Tell her about...just everything. But there was never any time. Always against him, he used to say.

He pulled back just a hair and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Romana, I..." But how to say anything?

Something inside clicked back into place again. The kissing had certainly thrown her for a loop, an enjoyable one at that. And standing with the Doctor like this the thought that this was all just a figment or a even dream had crossed her mind.

But to see him struggle with words as she had before, how his eyes expressed just how much he wished to tell her whatever it was that ran through his mind, she was suddenly afraid. And that was not something she would have ever admitted to.

So taking a page from his book Romana stole away whatever it was he was going to say with another kiss.

She kissed him this time, and he was grateful for it. It was hard to say emotions, easier to show them. Not much easier, but certainly easier. He kissed her firmly in return, less chaste and more confident. She wanted to kiss him, and that meant he could do so with much less fear.

Part of him nagged like a gnat, reminding him that this was their last kiss. She had to leave after this.

He silenced the voice in his head. He refused to let a kiss like this feel like goodbye just yet.

Finally, when the time came to be she pulled back just far enough that her lip just barely brushed against his when she spoke softly. But her hands did move from their places behind his shoulders.

"We... we should go back soon." She hated to speak those words. The idea of going back to those meetings and delegations with the other races was enough to give her a headache right then and there. But even with the means to return as if no time had past, one could not stretch time too far in such a way.

With a much shorter, more chaste kiss to his lips, she did add, "But we can stay just a little longer, if you still want to."

And she hoped he did.

"Stay," he said, before he could stop himself. Just a little while before he sent her back to a world that he would destroy. Just a little while longer.

Romana had always been the one that got away. He wouldn't...he couldn't just let her back. Not yet.

"Haven't nearly finished even one dance," he said. "Too long since we have, remember?"

A soft smile graced her lips as a small laugh could be heard. Not at him, no; It was more of one of relief.

"You do have a point there," she answered with a touch of humor in her tone. Dipping her head down in something like a bow, holding out her hand to him once more, all the woman did was smile again.

There was something about her. It wasn't just that she was like him, one of his own kind. It was more. There wasn't an adjective out there he could think to define it except Romana which wasn't really an adjective and therefore couldn't be used to describe her. But, in his mind, that was the thing about her that made her different.

He took her hand and smiled widely in return. They danced. Something in the universe felt very right in that moment.

RP for tastefulfashion

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