The Always More (Doctor Who Fanfiction)

Chapter Ten

"I get the feeling this excites you," I fold my arms. "Surely this kind of thing doesn't make you happy?"

"Why shouldn't it?" He asks suddenly, looking at me with a gaze that could melt granite. I shrink away a little with surprise. I bite my tongue before I say something I'll regret, and follow him through the door he opens. We slide through too many doors and tiptoe through too many hallways for me to possibly count off for you.

We finally reach a room that The Doctor seems satisfied with, but not before I've grown cold and tired from the walk. The room is well lit but that's all it has going for it. It's damp, and cold, and smells like preservatives.

The Doctor locks the door we came in through.

"So, what now?"

"Watch that scanner there," he tells me, going to a separate computer monitor. "Tell me if you see any Mentals."

"Okay." I lean over the monitor. My eyes study the screen like crazy.

"So what do you like to do?" He asks. I look over my shoulder at him, but he apparently doesn't grace people by looking at them when he speaks. I turn back to watch for Mentals.

"Why did you ask me that now?"

"I work well when I'm multitasking. So, what do you like to do?"

"Well, I'm in debate," I start, but the rest of the thought falls off my tongue before I can speak.

"You enjoy it?" He prods.

"I do." Well, that got us absolutely no where, I think. I hear The Doctor pull apart some wires. "I volunteer with the daycare down the road," I say carefully. "I work with kids who have disabilities. Mostly dyslexia, and autism. I love working with kids."

"You have kids in your family?"

"My family is the reason I love kids. And also, sometimes the reason I get so sick of them."

He chuckles. I wonder if I've been too blunt again.

"I like having conversations, and learning things, you know? I guess that's why I take debate." I fold my hands behind my back.

"It's hard to believe you're your age with how you speak," he says off-handedly. "I'd want to say you're nearly seventeen."

"Oh," I laugh, "I assure you I'm not. Mom says I managed not to be the baby of the family, even though I'm the youngest." I scratch the back of my neck, laughing as I add, "She means, of course, the family who only lives in our house, because we have three younger cousins who live across the street."

"Oh, there one is!" I gasp. The Doctor is by my side in a moment, and we are both looking at the Seffmarine, standing in the hall outside our door. "Overcooked clams."

The Doctor is back at his computer console. He pauses. I look at him guilty, knowing the question that's coming for me. "Overcooked clams?"

I giggle his confusion, "Mom makes me find regular words to take the place of bad ones so I don't curse."

He goes back to his work with a shrug.

"Oh look, another friend has joined us," I say, looking at the screen. "Ooh, another one. I'll bet you ten bucks that his name was Bill."