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What a strange trio you are: the Doctor, Jamie and Y/N.
The Doctor is like a favourite uncle; a ‘trusted adult’ you never encountered before. He’s gentle, shabby, silly, almost childish at times, but his antics act merely as a cover for sharp intellect and sheer brilliance. How many times has he amazed you with the ease he had outwitting the bad guys? How many times has he smiled sheepishly while jumping and running around, only to turn dead serious and undefiable when danger arose? Whenever you look into his icy blue eyes, you feel complete trust, but also a kind of shy respect because he’s so close, and yet so distant.
Jamie is often the one who acts before thinking. He might seem reckless and not very clever, but Jamie’s strength is his willpower and honesty. If something’s on his mind, he’ll say it; he won’t budge before anything and anyone, no matter how bad the situation may seem. Has it gotten the three of you into trouble? Multiple times. Would you have it any other way? Never.
And you. You are somewhat of a ground control in the TARDIS. Whenever the Doctor is too enthusiastic, you’re there; whenever Jamie is about to mess up, you’re there. But it’s a two way (or rather, three way) thing, really. The support you have in the Doctor, the way Jamie makes you laugh if you feel down, it’s the best thing in the universe, you dare say.
“Doctor?” you call out, entering the TARDIS console room, only to see the man in question kneeling by a large wooden chest. You walk up to him. “Looking for something? Shall I help?”
“Thank you my dear, I’m just skimming through the old stuff.” He pats your head, then returns to rummaging through the chest.
Curiously, you reach out inside to pick up a funny looking hat; without giving it much thought, you put it on the Doctor’s head. He looks like he wants to reprimand you, but only smiles instead. You giggle.
As he continues his task, suddenly something catches your attention.
“What’s that?” poking out from behind his shoulder, you point out at a book—a notebook of some sort.
The Doctor picks it up; the letters on the cover say 500 YEAR DIARY.
“Oh dear, so it was here,” the Doctor chuckles.
“Is it… your diary?”
“Yes, quite so. Though I haven’t updated it in a while.”
“Is it really 500 years old?” You don’t dare to ask him to let you read the contents, but he doesn’t seem to mind you stealing glances as he skims through the pages in a nonchalant manner.
“If we convert it to human years, yes. Old, isn’t it?” A smile graces the Doctor’s face; he reaches out to ruffle your hair. “You must think I’m ancient.”
“You know what I think?” When he raises an eyebrow, you flash him a grin. “That you’re the best, Doctor.”
You’re sometimes amused with how religiously Jamie wears his kilt.
“Have you ever tried to wear trousers?” you ask, forcing a chuckle back in your throat. “I bet you’d look dashing.”
“Aye, of course I have,” Jamie crosses his arms like he’s offended. “But kilts are so much better, y’know.”
“How so?”
“Because they’re Scottish, of course!”
No way you’d actually know what he’s talking about, but you just nod as if to say ‘whatever’. And then that godawful laugh escapes you like a Dalek on the loose, before you can contain it; before you can even acknowledge it.
“What’s so funny, hm?” Jamie now looks at you like he’s about to make you suffer for the blasphemy you just committed. His face is so hysterical that you simply stop caring and drop to the floor, laughing like a madman. “Oi, Y/N! I’ll make you know what you get for laughin’ at me!”
Having heard the ruckus, the Doctor enters. “What happened?” Then he notices you rolling on the floor laughing, quite literally. “Oh my word.”
“She’s gone crazy, Doctor.” Jamie rubs his temple.
After a tiring, full of running-away-from-the-weirdoes-from-space day, the three of you decide to have a nice evening in, to rest and recharge. Jamie wants to drink hot cocoa, while you’d love to watch a film together. The Doctor agrees to everything; he’s quite worn out himself.
Shooing you and Jamie out to the rooms, the Time Lord remains in the console room to lock the TARDIS up and make sure she doesn’t go anywhere dangerous. What soon strikes him as weird, though, is the silence enveloping his time machine. There’s no sound from the rooms, not a single voice, not a giggle. What on Earth might have happened?
When anxiety reaches an unbearable level, the Doctor stops fiddling with the controls and rushes inside, to the TV room.
“Jamie, Y/N? Are you okay—”
He stops at the doorstep.
You and Jamie are fast asleep on the floor, limbs entangled, almost like you’re snuggling; foreheads touch together as both of your heads rest on the pillow.
The Doctor shakes his head in disbelief, but not without a soft smile. Before leaving, he covers both of you with a blanket.
“What are you reading?” When The Doctor enters the library, you almost fall over. “Hey, easy there, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken your books without permission.” You feel bad about it because most of the books look very old and important, too important for someone like you.
But the Doctor doesn’t look angry. Instead, he sits next to you, his shoulder touching yours, and allows half of the book you’re holding to rest on his lap.
“It must be a difficult read. I bet you could use some help, hm?” He winks.
“…Is it okay?”
“Well, if you want to expand your knowledge, I won’t stop you. But this book in particular comes from my own planet, so you might be disappointed.”
Now you’re half anxious, half excited. “Why would I? If it’s related to you, Doctor, I’m going to love it.”
He smiles, but it isn’t a happy smile. It’s more like he’s trying to apologise, though you have no idea why; he’s never done anything wrong, and certainly not to you. At the same time, you’re sure there are things that you simply shouldn’t know. You’re certain.
Gently taking the Doctor’s hand, you close the book.
“I changed my mind.”
“Oh?” His eyes light up with curiosity.
“I want to know all about you, Doctor. But if you don’t tell me yourself, then there’s no point, I think.”
Once the meaning of your words reaches him, the Doctor smiles; he puts the book back on the shelf, but reaches for another one instead.
“Thank you, Y/N. I hope you’re still in the mood for a good read, hm?”
“You’re not goin’ to leave us, are you?”
Jamie’s tone is so serious that your heart stops for a second. He looks into your eyes with peculiar anticipation, it’s clear he’s containing himself from grabbing you by the shoulders. You know this look all too well. You’ve seen it in the mirror; it’s the look of someone who’s afraid of loss, who’s experienced loss before.
You embrace him as hard as you can.
“Of course I’m not. There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Jamie.”
He hesitantly returns the embrace. You wouldn’t mind him crying on your shoulder, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just holds you for a long time like he’s afraid of letting go.
But it’s okay. At least he has the courage to do just that.
You’re not usually the one to run and jump around.
This time, however, it’s different.
“Doctor, Jamie! Come on, it feels so nice here!”
“Where are we, Doctor?” Jamie asks, not taking his eyes off you as you rush out of the TARDIS.
“I’m not sure, probably Earth. Somewhere in the 20th century, maybe?” The Doctor looks at the readings on the console.
“Well then, let’s go after her! You never know what she’s goin’ to get herself into.”
“Look who’s talking, Jamie.”
“Eh, what’s that supposed to—”
“Come on, you two!” Suddenly, your figure appears at the doors, startling both of your companions (particularly Jamie, who clings to the Doctor). “Do you want to miss out?”
They exchange glances. Finally, as if to stop you from boring holes with your gaze, the Doctor offers you his right shoulder, and Jamie his left one. You grin before accepting them.
What’s out there? What does the future—or the past, or the present—have in stock for the three of you?
There’s no telling; however, with the best two people by your side, you know you couldn’t wish for anything more.