The Redhead Outlander

Boom Town

I couldn't say how many months had passed since the incident. And to say that I had repercussions was completely wrong. I looked physically and mentally healthy, but some gestures and reflexes proved the opposite. First of all, my outfit: I, who previously wore a simple t-shirt with my coat, found myself wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt under the graphic t-shirt I loved so much.

I had let my hair grow down to my neck, like a kind of shield. The locks that usually fell in my face were pulled back and tied, preventing the rest of my hair from going forward. I had lost the habit of putting on makeup, doing a simple line of eyeliner with very little mascara for my eyelashes. No eye powders or lipsticks. I was absolutely simple.

I had lost weight too, although most of it was thanks to the race. Unfortunately, the rest came from a kind of paranoia that I had developed since the incident. I did not trust food that I had not cooked or did not come from the TARDIS. I was developing a problem with food, I was extremely conscious of it and despite the efforts I was trying to combat this paranoia, it remained.

Same for contact, although it took me some time to be able to initiate contact with the Doctor on my own or not to jump when Jack or the Doctor took my hand without warning. On the other hand, I refused any contact with a human or extraterrestrial stranger. Only animals were the exception, it seemed.

I had lost my belly, had refined in my legs and arms. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was trying to compare myself to my mother's memory of her body, and I thought I should have almost the same body size now. My mother ... Only a few pictures on my phone allowed me to remember her face, but now it was impossible for me to remember her voice. Same for my father.

I blinked, preventing any tears from running, taking a tissue to dab the moisture in my eyes.

Sitting in the library with a book by Terry Pratchett on my lap, I reread for the third time the same sentence. I put in a bookmark before closing the book and setting it on the coffee table. I put on my red conversions, lacing my shoes before heading down the hall to join the trio in the console room.

I finally arrived in the room to see Mickey Smith.

"It's Mickey!"

"Hey! Mickey Mouse! How are you?" I exclaimed with joy and humor.

"Don't you go there too!" He complained.

I only gave him a big smirk for an answer.

"Don't listen to them, they're just joking," reassured Rose.

"You look beautiful."

The couple hugged me as I joined Jack's side. The Doctor was up high with a flashing red headlamp around his head.

"Awww, look at that, it's sweet! Why don't I ever get any of that?"

"Because you'll want to sleep with the person you're holding in your arms, Jack."

"Why sleep with you when I can cuddle you?"

"Because I'm the exception. But if you really want it, buy the Doctor a drink first."

"Such a hard work."

"But worth it!" The Doctor smiled extremely satisfied.

I would have teased the Doctor but not this time—remembering what had happened between us. But it seemed that this secret was going to be kept in the shadows. Did he have these moments?

Rose and Mickey chatted a bit, talking about a passport and the Doctor joined the conversation. There was a moment when the silence in the Tardis became uncomfortable until Mickey cut off the tension.