Date: 2007-05-26 04:59 am (UTC)
Reinette was slightly lost to the embrace that was distraction as much as skill. She was a woman accustomed to always knowing exactly where she stood, so any lost direction was always to be marked.

Yet with the Doctor came this sense of -- almost. She had almost brushed up against something else besides skin. He had almost returned home. He had almost ---

Well, he might have died today, she knew.

It was exhilerating and terrifying, yet also amazingly beautiful.

For all his complexities, it occured to her then that the Doctor was the art she encouraged it others. Not the artist, the work of art itself. Every adventure and person met, all his travels writted in his eyes, and in the taste of his mouth.

Her own mouth explored deeper, with new understanding.
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The Doctor

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