He has a secret, a secret he will never tell anyone, rather pointless, as no one would really understand. Rose laughs at his penchant for always having a banana in his pocket. Loves to laugh about it when they talk about how he swapped one for Jack's blaster back in London. He laughs along with her never telling her why. He had even once quipped back one day when he was in a rare spirit where he could appreciate the irony that it was because he was a lover not a fighter. That had got a laugh out of Rose and Jack both. He’s ashamed at times to even think about why he keeps one with him; thankful at those times no one knows his secret. The first time he smelt bananas he couldn't believe that two things in the universe could smell so close to each other. The cosmic joke that would make a simple fruit remind him of home in such a graphic way had been a private amusement to him for years. He remembers with bittersweet sadness the times he used to laugh about the coincidence with Romana. It was a joke very few could share most people didn’t have the points of reference. Oh the laughs they would have over it as he teased her with them; the humor was gone now. The humans never understood the inside joke they couldn’t smell it, they never would, because their noses just weren’t sensitive enough to understand chemical subtleties of what made bananas singularly unique of all the plant life on their planet.

Since the war it has hurt so bad smelling them and knowing he would never again be able to smell the original scent, never again, the original sources died with his planet. Oh He would chuckle right along with Jack as he made crude sex jokes about banana’s never letting him see how each laugh cut at his hearts and made him want to cry. No, they would never know, they could never understand. In fact he didn’t think he took take their pity if they ever did find out. So he is careful to keep his secret, his and Verity’s. She is the only one now who knows what they mean to him, she has always kept his important secrets, and he loves her for that discretion. So many times he has swore he would never get near another one because the scent memory is too intense, far too painful. But still he can’t help himself from getting a bunch, or two, when he was feeling particularly masochistic. Can’t seem to break the habit of wanting one near, because it reminds him of something special, something from a home he will never again see. So it has become a joke, something they all laughed about, better that then they should ever guess. He will never let them know that his laughter is at the cruelty of fate and the whimsy of biology.

No, it will forever more be his secret. For those times when it all becomes too tough to deal with, when the loneliness closes in on him he can loose himself in that scent and find a small bit of temporary pleasure as he remembers the times he has been surrounded in the original. No, he would never tell them that a banana to him smelled exactly like an aroused Time Lady, of home and of being loved.