As the sun rose, the rest of the world began to stir. Birds began to chirp outside, a small dog yapped away in someone’s yard. Willow on the other hand was fast asleep, although it didn’t last very long. All of the bustle aroused her from her slumber.
She snuggled farther under the warm sheets as the sun seeped through the apartment’s window. Willow squeezed her eyes shut as if it would block the incoming rays from interrupting her sleep.
At that moment, Willow concluded that nothing was better than sleeping in like this. Of course, not being stuck in the 80's with an unconscious Doctor while escaping some Time Lord hunters would be nice too. At this point, it all had become the new norm for her and she enjoyed it. Typically. However, sleeping in like a normal person was a relief for her. It was a nice break from running down corridors and avoiding different monsters’ jaws, all of which exhausted her and made her extremely sore.
A pair of hands slowly started massaging her shoulders and Willow sighed with relief. She hummed happily and made a mental note to get a massage way more often.
Wait.
Hands? Massage?
"Good morning," an all too familiar voice said.
Willow's eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, but she clumsily flipped herself off of the bed. After crashing down on the ground, she immediately shot back up and faced the voice.
"Doctor, what the hell?!"
The Doctor, who looked surprisingly human in a white T-shirt and boxers, sat on the edge of the bed where Willow had fallen. He smiled casually as if this was funny.
“Why’re you looking at me like that?” she cried.
“Like how I always do? You're so weird sometimes." He shook his head. "And why're you still calling me Doctor? I thought we were finished with that last night," he winked and moved closer to her.
Willow quickly sprinted to the other side of the room with a look of confusion written on her face.
"Oh hell no!" She shouted with her arms out in front of her. "Doctor, what the heck is going on?"
The Doctor studied her for a moment before grinning again. "Is this some kind of roleplay thing or are you seriously not okay?"
“Roleplay?!” She squeaked in a tight voice while shuddering.
Her breath quickened as she realized that the Doctor was completely oblivious to his behavior. It must have had to do with ‘becoming human,’ according to his words.
“Look, I'm sorry if something's going on with you. It was just last night was-"
"Ain't nothin' happened last night, boy!" Willow pressed her temples before grabbing her sweatshirt and pulling it over her head, covering her revealing tank top. “How long have you been in here?”
The Doctor shrugged and looked up, as if the answer was on the ceiling. “Around one,” he scratched his head. “I fell asleep on the couch, I think.”
“Fell asleep,” Willow repeated, raising her chin. “So you don’t remember a thing, do you?”
“Well,” he hinted before cocking his head to the side and curving his lips into a smug grin.
Willow’s hand twitched with the urge to slap him after understanding his implication. She swallowed hard and turned on her heel, desperate to get out of whatever the hell was happening here.
"I'll just go make breakfast, okay?"
The Doctor rubbed his eyes. "Sure, yeah babe," he replied without any thought.
Halfway through the door, Willow sucked in a breath. Babe?! She whirled around and raised her finger angrily. Her mouth searched for words, but nothing came out. Her face, however, turned a bright crimson. With a growl, Willow quickly stomped out of the room.
Willow grabbed three eggs from the carton that she had bought yesterday with a look of disdain.
In all honesty, Willow couldn't cook. Her declaration to prepare a meal was just a way to get out of whatever had just gone down in that bedroom. Uneasily, Willow cracked the first egg and let the yolk fall to the center of the pan. It sizzled right as soon as it touched the surface, including the small remnants of egg shell that found its way into the skillet due to Willow's lack of skill. She cracked the others before bursting the yolks to make scrambled eggs.
"This isn't hard," Willow tried to convince herself as she scraped the pan with her plastic spatula.
She grabbed another skillet and reached in the fridge for the bacon she’d also bought. Behind her, she could hear the footsteps of someone in the room. "Hey," she said with her back still facing the Doctor.
"Hi," he replied.
He sat down at the kitchen island with his head in his hands and his eyes on Willow.
She continuously glanced at him as she worked until she couldn't take it anymore. She put her hands on her hips with her spatula still in hand.
"What?"
The Doctor snapped out of his trance and shrugged. "It's just that after all this time, you've never made breakfast for me before."
Willow paused. "And that would be for… how long?"
The Doctor sighed as he tried not to laugh at her confusion. "Willow, we've been dating for two years."
Willow's mouth shaped into a big 'o' as she pivoted around and walked back to the stove.
"I thought the TARDIS programmed your life at random, Doctor," she muttered down to the eggs. "I swear if I'm ever stuck in another alien marriage situation again-"
"Did you say something?"
"Nope!"
Willow quickly started playing with the bacon in the skillet in an attempt of normality, which quickly backfired.
"Willow?"
"Yes Doc- I mean…" she looked over her shoulder for a que.
"John, Willow. It's John Smith."
"Yes, John?"
She heard the chair scrape backwards as the Doctor, er, John, stood up. The padded sound of footsteps was right behind her before she realized what he was doing.
“I love you,” he murmured.
Willow felt his arms wrap around her hips as he rested his chin on her shoulder. She frowned at his hands and lightly tapped his wrists. As if he could read her mind, his hands moved upwards to her stomach.
In opposition to his thoughts, they weren't there, and never would get there. She let him stay there for a second before spooning some eggs and bacon on a plate for him.
He hummed a thanks and put the plate on the table while waiting for Willow to serve herself. She grabbed a portion and stood at the island, still not comfortable with sitting next to this… stranger.
"I'm going to that job interview later this afternoon," John said while picking his rubbery eggs with a fork.
"Uh, that's nice," Willow brushed off her hands and grabbed a fork from the drawer. "Where's it again?"
"The hospital down the street," John said before painstakingly swallowing a piece of burnt bacon.
"How ironic," Willow chided, then immediately regretted it.
John looked at her with those big brown eyes that she adored, though they were a bit dimmer than usual, like there weren't the bits of the universe that had been seen underneath them. "How?"
Willow cleared her throat. "It's not… I was just saying… never mind Doc- I mean John."
"You must've hit your head pretty hard when you fell out of bed," he got up and quickly went to scrape the bits of egg off his plate before turning on the sink faucet.
"Maybe," she said, looking down at the disaster of a breakfast that she had made.
"I was thinking about taking a walk this morning, if you wanted to join," John said over the sound of flowing water and clinking dishes.
Willow looked up at him but soon flushed a bright red when she finally realized he was only wearing his T-shirt and boxers from before.
"S-sure, that sounds nice," she quickly replied before heading to the bathroom, not wanting him to see her embarrassment.
Willow quickly closed the door behind her and put her hands on the lip of the sink. She raised her head and stared at her hazel eyes in the mirror. Her golden brown skin was still a bit rosy from her… discovery. She splashed water on her face as if it would refresh her whole entire morning.
"The Doctor told me that he would be like this," she whispered to herself. "I just have to play along and hope he turns back…"
When she entered the kitchen again, she discovered that John was no longer there.
Willow dashed to the bedroom to fling on some leggings and a T-shirt for their walk. On her way in, she froze.
John stood at what Willow supposed was 'his side' of the bed. There was nothing wrong with this, except for the fact that he was shirtless, therefore, almost completely naked.
"Oh god," Willow groaned, covering her eyes with her hands. In a terrible attempt to blindly maneuver around the bed, she felt her fingers unconsciously fall so she could avoid poking her hip on the edge of the bed. She looked up a bit too far however, because in her view was John's back, open and bare. She must have looked for way too long, because John glanced at her and flung his shirt over his shoulder like a gym towel. "You look like you've never seen me without a shirt, Will," he commented before placing the shirt in a laundry basket.
"I-uh, it's just-" Willow stuttered as she scanned him up and down. He was thin as anything else, but also lean in the most attractive way possible. Willow squinted at his figure, before raising her eyebrows approvingly and walking through the doorway.