The Departure of the 11thTwelve minutes until tomorrowMore Like This
And I’m still thinking of you
Time and space is faced with sorrow
When this room’s not filled with two
Rose the valiant
Martha the walker
Donna the most important
Fly with me, sail the sea
Just don’t leave me be
Amy the waiter, Rory the last
Clara the impossible
And River my wife
I’ve loved you all with both my hearts
But time has once again come
To take us apart
Guardian Who (Not So Alone: Part 3)More Like This
Not So Alone: Part 3
Jack blinked a couple of times, his brow furrowed. He kept his staff aimed right at the man’s chest.
“‘The Doctor?’” he repeated warily.
“That’s me. Hello!” the man said, waving his hand in greeting. His toothy smile hadn’t faded in the least.
The man turned his gaze skyward, raising his eyebrows and turning the corners of his thin lips down into a half-pout, saying to nobody but himself, “Oh, not too often I get that one. It’s usually ‘Doctor who?’” He redirected his attention to Jack. “No, no. That’s it. Just ‘The Doctor.’”
Jack raised an eyebrow. Was this guy serious?
Him, with his headful of brown hair fluffed up in the middle and mildly spiked, falling slightly into his forehead, reminding Jack of some sort of cockatoo. And those sideburns! Him, with the thick eyebrows, thin upper lip, slightly pudgie