Realm of the Muse, Prompt 1.65: "Run" by Snow Patrol
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done
Light up, Light up..
"So, erm. Catherine. Before you go…"
The Doctor shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, with his hands clasped behind his back, sort of a wavering-but-hopeful look on his face. His long brown coat swayed back and forth behind him as he moved.
"Yes, love?"
One hand snaked up and began tousling the hair on the back of his head, agitating it terribly, making it stick nearly straight up. "Yeah. So. Erm. Before you go. I, erm." He sighed, and started bouncing gently on the balls of his feet. "Right. So. We both know I'm not exactly the most romantic bloke around, right?"
Catherine blinked, a bit confused. "You do all right," she protested, smiling, and taking a step closer to him, resting her hand on his chest. "I've no complaints."
"Yeah, but… you know. Like romantic gestures and things. Gifts." The hand that had been rubbing his hair took to flailing gently in front of his chest, between them; the other one remained behind his back. "I tried. I want you to know I tried."
"You… tried?"
"Yes. Yes, yesyesyes, I tried. Really hard. Gave it my all. I'm just… shopping. Useless, that's me, at shopping."
Catherine favoured him with a bemused grin. "I'd never have guessed."
"No! No, really. Really really useless. Like… jewellery stores. Too many shiny things. I lost hours, I did. And, erm, clothes? Well, not, like, clothes clothes, more like things to wear in the bedroom? I just couldn't… focus." Another flurry of hair-disarranging, and the Doctor was openly rocking back and forth now. "And a vacuum cleaner, well, that's right out. And after that, well, I was fresh out of ideas, so… I made you something. Hold out your hand?"
Catherine did as the Doctor asked. He broke into a bright grin, and dropped a cylindrical metal object into her outstretched hand, rolling back and forth like a storm-tossed ship as he waited for her reaction. It took her a few moments to realise what it was, and her voice caught just slightly in her throat when she spoke.
"It's a sonic screwdriver."
"Yes, yes it is!" His grin got even wider and even more brilliant, though there was a bit of an edge to it. "Just like mine. Well, except it's nicer than mine. See, there's a comfort grip on the handle, try it. Good? Good. I didn't actually make that part, I had to order it in, but I assembled the rest. It's smaller. Did you notice it's smaller? It's smaller. That's on purpose. I made it three-quarter size. You know. Just like you."
Catherine laughed softly, hefting it. "It's… it's perfect."
He sucked in a breath, and kept talking, as urgently as he had been, still in constant motion. "Right, so-this is the best part, right here, this is where I really outdid myself, if I do say so myself, and I do-it retracts. See? Press this side of the grip, and it'll retract. I'll show you."
He leaned in, and it took him a couple of tries to get it to retract, because his hand was shaking. And in that moment, Catherine realised why he was talking so much, bouncing so much, why there had been such a huge wind-up to him handing the screwdriver over.
He was nervous. He was very likely terrified she wouldn't like it, or it wasn't enough.
"And of course, it un-retracts, like so. Has all the settings mine does, and a few more, things I only wish mine could do. I'll have to add them one of these days. And of course if there's anything missing or anything you don't like I can change it at once."
"It doesn't need to be changed, Doctor." She closed her hand around the screwdriver, and bit down on her lower lip, her eyes welling up a bit.
"Are you sure?" His eyes met hers, and his face paled a bit. "No, see… it does, it really does, see, you're crying, I've done it wrong. It's all right. Just let me have it back, I'll change it, won't take long at all…"
She reached out, and caught his hand mid-flail, clasping it in her own. "It doesn't. I promise you. It's perfect. I love it. I love you."
He blinked at her. "Really? Perfect? Promise?"
"Yes. I promise."
And finally, finally, he stopped bouncing, stopped flailing, and stopped talking. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and smiled a relieved, tremulous little smile. "I made that just for you, you know. My own two hands and everything…"
"I know," she breathed, throwing her arms around him and holding on tight. "I know…"
Catherine Endicott
Doctor Who
773 words
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done
Light up, Light up..
"So, erm. Catherine. Before you go…"
The Doctor shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, with his hands clasped behind his back, sort of a wavering-but-hopeful look on his face. His long brown coat swayed back and forth behind him as he moved.
"Yes, love?"
One hand snaked up and began tousling the hair on the back of his head, agitating it terribly, making it stick nearly straight up. "Yeah. So. Erm. Before you go. I, erm." He sighed, and started bouncing gently on the balls of his feet. "Right. So. We both know I'm not exactly the most romantic bloke around, right?"
Catherine blinked, a bit confused. "You do all right," she protested, smiling, and taking a step closer to him, resting her hand on his chest. "I've no complaints."
"Yeah, but… you know. Like romantic gestures and things. Gifts." The hand that had been rubbing his hair took to flailing gently in front of his chest, between them; the other one remained behind his back. "I tried. I want you to know I tried."
"You… tried?"
"Yes. Yes, yesyesyes, I tried. Really hard. Gave it my all. I'm just… shopping. Useless, that's me, at shopping."
Catherine favoured him with a bemused grin. "I'd never have guessed."
"No! No, really. Really really useless. Like… jewellery stores. Too many shiny things. I lost hours, I did. And, erm, clothes? Well, not, like, clothes clothes, more like things to wear in the bedroom? I just couldn't… focus." Another flurry of hair-disarranging, and the Doctor was openly rocking back and forth now. "And a vacuum cleaner, well, that's right out. And after that, well, I was fresh out of ideas, so… I made you something. Hold out your hand?"
Catherine did as the Doctor asked. He broke into a bright grin, and dropped a cylindrical metal object into her outstretched hand, rolling back and forth like a storm-tossed ship as he waited for her reaction. It took her a few moments to realise what it was, and her voice caught just slightly in her throat when she spoke.
"It's a sonic screwdriver."
"Yes, yes it is!" His grin got even wider and even more brilliant, though there was a bit of an edge to it. "Just like mine. Well, except it's nicer than mine. See, there's a comfort grip on the handle, try it. Good? Good. I didn't actually make that part, I had to order it in, but I assembled the rest. It's smaller. Did you notice it's smaller? It's smaller. That's on purpose. I made it three-quarter size. You know. Just like you."
Catherine laughed softly, hefting it. "It's… it's perfect."
He sucked in a breath, and kept talking, as urgently as he had been, still in constant motion. "Right, so-this is the best part, right here, this is where I really outdid myself, if I do say so myself, and I do-it retracts. See? Press this side of the grip, and it'll retract. I'll show you."
He leaned in, and it took him a couple of tries to get it to retract, because his hand was shaking. And in that moment, Catherine realised why he was talking so much, bouncing so much, why there had been such a huge wind-up to him handing the screwdriver over.
He was nervous. He was very likely terrified she wouldn't like it, or it wasn't enough.
"And of course, it un-retracts, like so. Has all the settings mine does, and a few more, things I only wish mine could do. I'll have to add them one of these days. And of course if there's anything missing or anything you don't like I can change it at once."
"It doesn't need to be changed, Doctor." She closed her hand around the screwdriver, and bit down on her lower lip, her eyes welling up a bit.
"Are you sure?" His eyes met hers, and his face paled a bit. "No, see… it does, it really does, see, you're crying, I've done it wrong. It's all right. Just let me have it back, I'll change it, won't take long at all…"
She reached out, and caught his hand mid-flail, clasping it in her own. "It doesn't. I promise you. It's perfect. I love it. I love you."
He blinked at her. "Really? Perfect? Promise?"
"Yes. I promise."
And finally, finally, he stopped bouncing, stopped flailing, and stopped talking. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and smiled a relieved, tremulous little smile. "I made that just for you, you know. My own two hands and everything…"
"I know," she breathed, throwing her arms around him and holding on tight. "I know…"
Catherine Endicott
Doctor Who
773 words