realityshifted | (no subject)

[The Doctor is in a relatively good mood, and it may have something to do with the fact that he's got one of his companions with him. This companion is a fluffy black cat named Mortimer, who is currently lapping up a saucer of milk. The Doctor shakes his head as he watches him.]

Dunno how you can stand the stuff. All the species in all the universe and it has to come out of a cow.

Suppose it's a good thing we restocked the kitchen, though. 'Course, it's gonna have to be restocked every couple of weeks now that we've got so many mouths to feed. [He doesn't sound overly frustrated by this, however. Quite the opposite, in fact.] Remember when it was just you and me? Blimey, seems like forever ago... [he trails off, brooding for a moment. Then he turns his attention to Mortimer again, since the cat is demanding it by plopping down onto Nine's lap.]

Speaking of new companions, d'you think we ought to get another cat? Seems like you could use a feline friend, and maybe one who's mum won't try to claw me to death. No more domestics for me, thanks!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

But it's easier to say that, isn't it? If you tell me to run, then you can't feel guilty, but if I die, you feel justified. Is that mercy or cowardice? I've never been able to tell.

[shakes his head] I wouldn't feel justified, Diva. If you died, I'd feel guilty anyway.

I wouldn't. I've already died here. It's absolutely nothing. There's not even anything to come back to, so it doesn't matter.

It's not nothing. I know, I've been there myself.

...And matters to me. Might not be your biggest fan at the mo', Diva, but I've still got a bit of hope for you. Which means you've got my protection, for what it's worth.

{She calms down a bit, but she's still ice cold}

I don't need protection from anyone. I only need--{She breaks off, sighing}

I won't be running away.

[gently] What d'you need?

{Puts a hand on her hip}

What do you think I need? I need my life back.

What's stopping you?

Everyone I've cared about...They're dead. Or gone. Or they've abandoned me. It doesn't really matter why they're gone, but they're gone.

[wryly] Think we've got a fair bit in common. But you can't stop trying, Diva. 900 years, and I'm still at it. Hoping someone might stick around.

I don't want to keep trying, though. I...want my Chevalier back, more than anything. At least they stayed by my side.

Sam promised that he would stay with me. I shouldn't have given up Amshel for him. Amshel was right.

Is there any way of getting your Chevalier back?

They're dead. Of course not.

'Course they are. Diva...I know you're a bit fed up with trying, but maybe if you branch out a bit, you won't have to depend on one single person, like Sam or Amshel. You're close to a few people on the Plane anyway, yeah?