A/N: This is a thoroughly silly series of ficlets/drabbles inspired by my toddler's favorite book. Many thanks to Sandra Boynton for hours of entertainment and plot bunnies. Spoilers for seasons 1-6. Everything else belongs to the BBC-I'm just taking their characters out for a short spin.
I want to be your personal penguin. I want to walk right by your side. I want to be your personal penguin; I want to travel with you far and wide.
Rose has never been anywhere.
Oh sure, she took a tour to Paris in high school like everyone else, but it didn't really count as going to a place when all you saw were the same tired tourist attractions that every other schoolgirl saw. She's never seen Shanghai, never seen Rome, never seen Rio, and has definitely never seen the stars. Until now.
And in this moment, looking down at the Earth about to be incinerated by a supernova, she understands just how small those big places actually were, and how big "anywhere" actually is now that she can see it all. He reaches out to hold her hand, seeming to understand without asking just how overwhelming this type of exhilaration can be. She grips his to the point of discomfort if only to assure herself that it's all real. That she will never again be able to say that she's never seen anything worth writing home about.
Because this? This is worth the price of postage.
Martha never harbored dreams of going to the moon.
Oh, sure, she watched the film clips in school, and even remembers (dimly) the day the Challenger shuttle exploded, but she never begged to be astronaut for Halloween. She never drew pictures of herself exploring strange new worlds. Never even watched a single episode of Star Trek, no matter how often her brother had it on the telly.
Martha's explorations have all taken place within the confines of the human body. Rather, "confine" is a word others would use, but to her, it is a universe in and of itself.
How she longs to explore the unmapped regions of the mind, burns to discover the secrets of cancer and AIDS. Aches to see the rivers of the bloodstream from the perspective of a platelet. So why then is she here, in an improbable blue box, with a man who is promising to show her the reaches of space and time? She honestly has no idea, and yet at this moment she cannot imagine doing anything else.
Every morning, Donna packs her bags. Her mother mocks her, and her grandfather moans about going with her, but Donna ignores them both. She is going to find the Doctor again, and by God she is going with him. No force on Earth can stop her. But he'd better have a good storage system, or at least some large closets, because there is no way Donna Noble is going to find herself on an alien world without at least three wardrobe options complete with accessories.
Naturally, this does no leave much room for groceries in the boot, which is why she takes her mother's car when she goes to the market.
Idly, she daydreams about the places they'll visit. Warm places, she resolves in the dead of winter. Sandy alien beaches where blue cabana boys will spread oil on her shoulders.
Anywhere but here.
Appearances to the contrary, Amelia Pond has a plan. She will see the universe, then pop right back home just in time to marry Rory Williams in a small, moderately budgeted ceremony. Then they will settle down to a quiet life together, and she will never again dream of traveling the stars with the Raggedy Doctor.
And then...she doesn't want to go back.
Rory is great, kind, loved-in a way-but not in the least exciting. And if there's one thing Amelia Pond has learned since she left Leadworth the night before her wedding, it's that she wants excitement in her life. So she doesn't mention the whole getting-married-in-the-morning thing. She tries to forget the white dress hanging in her closet. Tries to live in the here-and-now while steadfastly ignoring the increasingly obvious fact that what she's actually doing is starting to look less and less like exploring the universe and more and more like running away from it.