“I want a warm, sunny beach. With lots of gorgeous male humanoids and those fruity little drinks with umbrellas.” Donna crossed her arms.
“I never understand those. I mean, what’s the point of those umbrellas? Don’t they just stick up your nose? Of course, there’s more than one planet where nudity is the norm and all the fashion they worry about is what can be fitted into their equivalent of noses-”
The TARDIS landed. The Doctor looked down at the monitor and fell silent.
“Well? Where are we then?” Donna asked impatiently, when the expected babble along the lines of “Oh, unpronounceable alien name! Such nice people and I’m sure the Emperor’s forgotten all about our little misunderstanding by now!” failed to sound.
The Doctor hardly registered her words. His world seemed to have shrunk to the display of Gallifreyan on the screen.
Kent, England, Earth, 2180 local era.
Suddenly, he wished for the scanner. Just to see what was out there. It might be green fields, little farms. Susan might be standing outside. David might be living just a few miles away, working the land, coming home to a family. A wife who was not Susan.
With a convulsive gesture, he pulled a lever. The TARDIS engines started.
It seemed to him almost as if she was crying.
To know that Susan lived would be beyond joy. But he couldn’t risk crushing that fragile hope.
Better this uncertainty.
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