∞ ∞ ∞

He was, of all possible places, seated at the kitchen table, a half-empty paper bag of Basset’s Jellybabies in front of him. He had a green one held lightly between his forefinger and thumb, and was holding it up to the light. ‘Fascinating…’

‘What’s fascinating?’

‘Hmm?’ He turned his head, blue eyes flashing at her in vague amusement, and then returned to the sweet. ‘Have you ever wondered what the insides are like? Chemically speaking.’

Sarah shook her head with a laugh. ‘Why should I?’

‘I don’t know — curiosity maybe. They’re indescribable, really,’ mused the Doctor, biting off the head and chewing thoughtfully. ‘And why is the green one always crying?’

‘Perhaps he’s lonely,’ she suggested, taking the seat opposite.

‘Yes…’ From focusing somewhere inside his extensive thoughts, his gaze snapped to hers.

A moment might have passed — it was hard to tell in the TARDIS.

Sarah broke her stare to reach for the bag. She peered at the contents. ‘Aww, you’ve had all the yellow ones.’

He grinned, the warm one that was too large for his cheeks. ‘Sorry.’ He examined the headless Jellybaby once more, and finished it off with a slight shrug.

He watched as Sarah fished out another green one and examined it. ‘Poor little thing.’

‘Oh I think he can manage on his own. All he needs to be happy is company.’

Their gazes met again, and Sarah had a fleeting glimpse of an understanding that was beyond her mental grasp.

The Doctor simply smiled.

∞ ∞ ∞