Work Text:
Your Doctor was a peculiar man. One second, he’d be flaunting an ego so big it was a wonder he didn’t stumble upon it. The other, if you carelessly happened to let your guard down, his wit would quite literally floor you.
“I told you, Y/N, we’re not going back to Earth again after what they called my fashion!” The Doctor strolled the fourth circle around the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers in a manner that you quite doubted was well thought-out. “Humans and their narrow-minded ideals. I refuse to engage with such… such anachronistic mindset.”
“TV isn’t monochrome anymore.”
The Doctor stopped mid-track.
“I said anachronistic, not monochromatic. How do you even mistake words so disparate?” He shot you a look of disbelief with a hint of resignation.
Raising an eyebrow, you folded your arms on your chest. “That was a joke. I know what the words mean. You’d have noticed if you ever looked past the tip of your own nose,” you added under your breath.
“Excuse me?” Apparently having heard your low voice, the Doctor raised his face, expression offended. “Are you trying to imply that I’m uninterested in the outside world?”
“Not in the outside world, perhaps. The great grand universe – no, that is still worthy of a speck of your attention. But other ‘unimportant’ matters, ‘unimportant’ humans,” you scoffed, “surely, are not.”
“That’s egregious. Fallacious. I can’t believe I just heard you say that.”
“Right. How dare I interrupt the Doctor? You sure love the sound of your own voice, especially while spewing utter nonsense.”
“Well it can’t be helped if the only partner worthy of conversation with me is me?”
With a sigh, you waved your hand and turned around towards the door to the inside of the TARDIS, ready to leave the console room and give the Doctor some of the precious company of himself. However, before you could twist the doorknob, the Doctor’s voice reached your ears.
“Y/N.”
You didn’t turn around. “What is it?”
“Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I am a bit too… uninterested.”
As you stopped in your tracks, a smile crept up your face. The Doctor couldn’t see it since you were facing his back, but you knew – instances that he ever admitted to being wrong were incredibly rare.
So you decided to treasure one when it came by.
“That’s alright,” looking over your shoulder, you showed him your smile. “At the very least, you’ve got broad vocabulary, hm?”
After a second of an astonished silence, the Doctor returned your smile, abashed, or maybe simply relieved. He then proceeded to fiddle with the console, as if the whole situation had never happened.
You continued smiling to yourself. Enriching his vocabulary when it came to apologising would require a lot of work, wouldn’t it?