To Be Human Again
Summary - The Doctor's musings, set directly post-The Enemy Within, otherwise known as the 1996 TV Movie. A short story written who-knows-when that I found on my hard drive.
"Oh no, not again."
A plaintive gaze flickered up from the pages of the book in the young man's hands, focusing on the old record player which seemed simply refuse to work properly. The same few notes of the music kept repeating themselves, skipping over and over, just as they had when he had been in his Seventh life. Now his short, graying hair and bright brown eyes had literally been given a new luster, replaced through regeneration with the dark, reddish brown curls and blue eyes of this...somewhat victorian man he was now.
It was almost hard to believe that only 48 hours before, he had been on his way home to Gallifrey, the ashes of his old enemy and once-friend, the Master, locked safely away in a funary box in the clock room. That skipping record had been the start of the trouble that night. Uncrossing his feet from the footstool they were propped on, the Doctor rose from the worn old armchair. The well-read novel thumped to the surface of the teatable at its side as he crossed the short distance to the record player; the words 'The Time Machine, by H.G. Wells' shone out from the faded red cover in the warm, low light illuminating the small sitting area.
Replacing the needle from its faulty track on the copy of Puccini's 'Madame Butterfly,' the Doctor turned about, gazing whistfully around the sheer massiveness of the room in which he stood. The low hum of the TARDIS time rotor whirred comfortingly in his ears as he leaned against the control console of his old timeship.
"Glad you're feeling better ol' girl," He murmered softly, patting the carved wood surface of the console gently. "The Master really ran us both for a spell there. Though it was clever of him, using my eyes..." He trailed away with a sigh, curiously tilting his head. "Human eyes...I really wonder how that happened..." He lifted his fingers to his face with a small smile adorning his lips.
Half-human on his mother's side. He knew that little remark he'd made to the scientist at the atomic clock gala had only been an attempt to shrug him off; time had been pressing, after all. But even if the truth behind it was nonexistant, it had turned out to be rather ironic. This regeneration had quite a few genetic similarities to the humans he'd grown so fond of over the centuries, it was no small surprize that, somehow, his eyes had developed the same structure as their own.
Then there had been that kiss. A moment of delight as his memories had flooded back, and he had let Grace share that estatic joy. He could still taste her on his lips, almost like soft cinnamon. While he was somewhat ashamed, loosing his cool like that, he didn't have any qualms about it. Perhaps he had been around them for a tad too long.
He smiled again, a soft chuckle escaping with that gentle Liverpool accent as he turned about, setting the TARDIS into a stable hover, and returned to his chair, settling back with a murr of appreciation, and picking up 'The Time Machine' once more.
Oh to be human again, if only for a moment more.