Show, Ship- Doctor WQho. Ten/Rose
Disclaimer- Peter Carlisle is under lock and key. Mwah ha ha
Summary- When the Doctor sees her the most
A/N- Prompted by True Colours- Cyndy Lauper
It wasn’t the way she stuck her tongue between her teeth in order to entice him.
It wasn’t when she took so long with so much care over her make-up to appear more beautiful.
It wasn’t the huskiness of her voice when he did something she liked.
It wasn’t the feigned amusement at his bad jokes.
It wasn’t the sway to her hips as she walked away, knowing he was watching.
It wasn’t the scent she sprayed on to smell like the ripest strawberries.
It wasn’t the possessiveness in her eyes as a woman spoke just that little too long to him.
It wasn’t the careful way she avoided all measure of domesticity to keep him at ease and keep him from running.
It wasn’t the tight clothes she wore to tempt his baser urges.
It wasn’t the way she kept things to herself because she knew that’s what he expected.
It wasn’t the words that she chose to carefully to tease and taunt him.
It wasn’t the way she held his hand like a caress to soothe him.
It wasn’t when she was dressed in fine clothes and dripping with jewels.
It wasn’t when she flirted and sweet-talked, eyes fluttering and lips pursed.
Those were the colours she displayed.
That’s when he was glad she was there.
It was the tremble in her voice as she spoke to the Sycorax, her heart in her throat.
It was the shake in her hand as she reached for his, feeling pain and uncertainty but willing to give him a try.
It was the grief she held in her gaze when he wasn’t really all right but knew to leave well enough alone.
It was the untamed laughter at the dogs with no noses, oblivious to onlookers.
It was the yawn and stretch as she walked into the console room without make-up, looking sleepy but willing.
It was the unabashed delight in her face at seeing a new world or meeting new people.
It was her willingness to run to his side in or out of danger and to remain there, as long as he needed her.
It was the sadness in her eyes at the emptiness in his.
It was the way she kissed the little alien boy who became the envy of all his friends and didn’t mind the strangeness of his appearance.
It was the tears she cried when the soldier died in her arms, streaked with blood.
It was the serenity on her expression as she tilted her head back to feel the sun on her face.
It was the streaks of dirt across her face as she dug potatoes out of the ground to help the ailing village.
It was falling into bed aching from hard work and being willing to start again the next day, just to build a well or lay bricks, to smash mud or move bodies.
It was then that he saw her true colours.
And that’s when he loved her.