SUNNY AFTERNOON This story takes place between the BBC novels Option Lock and Longest Day. "In the words of David Cassidy - when he was still with the Partridge Family... I think I love you." Hugh Grant - Four Weddings and a Funeral Love. It's a funny thing, really. I've never really been in love. OK, I've had the usual teenage crushes, but nothing serious. Not even a steady boyfriend. Never really wanted one, I suppose. How do you know when you're in love? How did Mum know that she loved Dad? I never asked her. Maybe I should've done. I wish I could ask her now. I could phone her. That's a weird thought. There's a phone box down the road - it's 1998. I could call. What would I say? It's ridiculous. I couldn't do it. But I could really use someone to talk to right now. A big sister. A best mate. Someone... well, someone human. I've come back down to Earth with a bump. We've been staying at this big old house of the Doctor's, in Kent. I suppose we've been here for about a week, having a holiday, bumming around. Nothing big and green and scaly has reared up out of the bushes yet, but we'll see. Time will tell. And since trouble has a habit of following the Doctor - and me too, by default - around, I'm fully expecting something to happen. The Doctor. Now, there's something I wish I could talk to Mum about. I have no idea half the time whether he even knows that I'm a woman at all. I sometimes wonder whether all humans look alike to him, like animals do to us. Does he notice what I look like? Does he find women attractive? Does he find anyone attractive? Does he find me attractive? The wet-Tshirt incident at Abbots Soilfor produced no reaction whatsoever. Mind you, what exactly would I have done if he had noticed? It's not as if I've got much experience at that sort of thing. A quick snog behind the Chemistry Block with Danny Watson doesn't really count, does it? But I've never met anyone like the Doctor. He's totally oblivious to the fact that he's gorgeous. Any woman (and some men) with decent eyesight automatically starts drooling the minute he walks into a room, but he never notices. Are Time Lords biologically programmed to be above sexual attraction? That would explain a few things. He's sitting beside me now. I have to stop looking at him, but I can't help it. It's a hot day today: he found a couple of deckchairs in the garage, set them up on the back lawn. He's fallen asleep - the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, and he's got no shoes. Cute. The sun's not affecting him at all - he's as pale as ever. I don't think he can get tanned, not like me. I've had to plaster on the factor 25 all afternoon. I could sit here all day, just watching him sleep. I can't keep my eyes off him. He's beautiful. He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I want to touch him. Not hug him, not hold his hand because I'm scared. I want him to touch me. I want it so badly sometimes it hurts. I want him. I always wondered what would happen, that first time. Mum tried to talk to me about it, but she was too embarrassed. So I went out and bought a book, found it all out for myself. I must have been about eleven. I wondered what it would be like, who it would be with. God, I want it to be with him. I want him to kiss me, properly. I've never been kissed, not really. Being kissed by him... I can imagine how good it would feel, his lips against mine, his fingers running through my hair... I could make a move, I suppose, catch him when he wasn't expecting it, see what would happen. Now would be a good time. He's vulnerable, at my mercy. I could reach over so easily, stroke his hair, bend down and put my lips to his... But I don't. There's something that stops me. A little voice in my head that says "no". It wouldn't be right. He's a thousand years older than me. He looks after me, teaching me things, rescuing me from big green monsters (and I do the same for him). He's not like other guys. I couldn't do that to him. If I did pluck up the courage to kiss him, what would I do if he didn't want it? How would I cope? It's better not to know. That way neither of us needs to get embarrassed. That way nothing's spoilt, nothing's changed. I don't want to leave him. I know that now. I want to stay beside him all the time, know that I'm special to him, that he wants me with him. I just want him there. It doesn't matter what happens, as long as he's with me. Is this how falling in love feels? How would I know? I know that if he gets hurt it cuts me somewhere deep inside. I hate to see him suffer. He goes through so much for me - I wish there was something I could do to repay him. But that's what he does, it's part of who he is. If anything happened to him, I don't know that I'd do. What would be the point of carrying on? A universe without the Doctor... something I don't want to think about. Love... something else I don't really want to think about. If I am in love with him... what the Hell will that mean? He's waking up. God, I wish I could... no. Stop that. Well done. He smiles at me, blinking in the sunlight. That wonderful, gorgeous smile, the one I'm sure he reserves just for me. I've never seen him smile at anyone else in quite that way. "Time for tea?" he asks. I hold his gaze for a moment: big blue eyes, so deep I could drown in them. Does he know what I'm thinking? Has he any idea how I feel about him? I don't think I'll ever know. Those eyes aren't giving anything away. "Yeah," I say, "time for tea." And it is. Love, huh? Exactly what is love, anyway? FIN | ||||
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