halfamoon | Fic: Mona Lisa Smile (Dr. Who, Romana)

Title: Mona Lisa Smile
Author: Sarah T.
Website: alien corn
Rating: PG
Notes: After the picspam I posted today, I just had to. (~450 words)
Summary: Sweets for the sweet.

"Wow," Duggan says, in his slightly nasal, earnest voice. "I still can't believe it! Seven Mona Lisas!"

They're standing on the Pont de la Tournelle. The Doctor is off buying sweets ("macarons for all!" he'd cried. "Finest biscuits in this arm of the galaxy!"). In the distance, she can see the spire of the cathedral rising before the two square towers. Religious structure, designation monotheistic category five, she thinks, then: Notre Dame. "Don't forget saving the world," she says.

That had been a close call. Her hearts are still fluttering from it. She pretends to be as unflappable as the Doctor--she has to, if only out of self-defense--but adventure still makes her secretly giddy. She has her hands stuffed in her schoolgirl's jacket pockets, swinging them back and forth. She feels as if she might have to laugh, or sing.

"Oh, that," he waves his hand. "Could've happened to anyone."

"And aliens and time travel," she goes on. It's remarkable how little impression their trip seems to have made on him. How little it all seems to have made on him. He's going back to America in a few days; sees no need to linger in Paris. Not so long ago, she would have thought him stupid.

Well, the stupid human had retrieved her ridiculous mistake, even if he doesn't entirely appreciate what he'd done. There's a great deal to be said for knowing what you're good at and sticking to it.

"I don't mind aliens when they're as pretty as you," he blurts, and then turns bright red.

Direct, but sweet. Her lovers at the Academy sometimes had a tendency to get lost in their own refinements, and the Doctor's mind is so circuitous it will be a wonder if he ever arrives at her. She studies Duggan's big square jaw, his averted blue eyes, his shock of blond hair. She steps in and touches his face, turning it back to her. He stares, and she rises on tiptoe to kiss him. His mouth is warm and minty.

"Wow," he says when she's done.

Her pulses are spiking. The wind blows a strand of hair across her mouth, and she brushes it away. "Like the Mona Lisas?" she laughs.

"Oh, better," he murmurs, and pulls her close with his big capable hands to kiss her again.

She hopes the Doctor will take his time with the macarons.