The thing that surprises Grace most after New Year is how quickly normality reasserts itself. The way her life flows and heals around the mad few days when she knew the Doctor. She slips into a new job and a new lover comes along to take Brian’s place. She doesn’t tell him about the things she saw at the turn of the century. She doesn’t tell anyone. Never on purpose, there just never seems to be a way to start the conversation. Time heals its own wounds she supposes and tries not to think about how sad that thought makes her feel.
She doesn’t miss the man with two hearts as much as time passes. The sharp ache softens to a dull ache to a soft nostalgic smile. Yet, there is something missing in her life, something she found in those crazy few days that she thinks she’s lost again. She can’t share them with anyone. No one else remembers or understands. So she smiles enigmatically and carries on.
She never expected to see Chang Lee again, though she has in odd moments wondered about him. A postcard appears out of nowhere in her mail, from the other side of the world, then another. ‘Spending my gold dust’ reads the message on one, another from Ireland reads ‘Still looking for Gallifrey’. They’re never signed but she keeps them carefully in the drawer of her bedside cabinet, a reminder that she hadn’t dreamed that time. That someone else remembers and needs to reach out and share that. It’s comforting, this little reminder that she’s not entirely alone with her memories.
It’s by accident they find each other again, having almost literally walked into each other in a heavy shower, they’ve taken refuge in a bar almost before they’ve realised what they're doing without bothering to discuss it. Wordless understanding. He’s older than she’d remembered, but time’s passed for her too. He’s calmer and steadier whereas she feels adrift once more. They talk long into the night, drinking cheap beer in a quiet bar in Chinatown that’s seen decidedly better days. They talk of her patients and his travels for hours, before closing time dislodges them from their seats back out into the streets. He plays the gentleman walking her home, and on the way, their tongues loosened by beer and familiar circumstances they talk of that time that no one else really remembers. They lie in the grass of the park that she still lives beside, and count the stars. Even though she knew there would be a meteor shower tonight, it still brings tears to her eyes. He looks at her with that steady gaze of his for a long moment before he kisses her. She doesn’t ask him in, he would doubtless make an excuse and leave if she did. So they make love right there in the grass, the rising dew dampening their clothes and skin, oddly free and protected in the open dark. Both knowing that when the sun comes up they’ll go their separate ways once again so treasuring this moment all the more.
Another moment in time that no one else will understand, but this one is theirs alone, and unlike the last it is very much of this earth.
Grace Holloway/Chang Lee
She doesn’t miss the man with two hearts as much as time passes. The sharp ache softens to a dull ache to a soft nostalgic smile. Yet, there is something missing in her life, something she found in those crazy few days that she thinks she’s lost again. She can’t share them with anyone. No one else remembers or understands. So she smiles enigmatically and carries on.
She never expected to see Chang Lee again, though she has in odd moments wondered about him. A postcard appears out of nowhere in her mail, from the other side of the world, then another. ‘Spending my gold dust’ reads the message on one, another from Ireland reads ‘Still looking for Gallifrey’. They’re never signed but she keeps them carefully in the drawer of her bedside cabinet, a reminder that she hadn’t dreamed that time. That someone else remembers and needs to reach out and share that. It’s comforting, this little reminder that she’s not entirely alone with her memories.
It’s by accident they find each other again, having almost literally walked into each other in a heavy shower, they’ve taken refuge in a bar almost before they’ve realised what they're doing without bothering to discuss it. Wordless understanding. He’s older than she’d remembered, but time’s passed for her too. He’s calmer and steadier whereas she feels adrift once more. They talk long into the night, drinking cheap beer in a quiet bar in Chinatown that’s seen decidedly better days. They talk of her patients and his travels for hours, before closing time dislodges them from their seats back out into the streets. He plays the gentleman walking her home, and on the way, their tongues loosened by beer and familiar circumstances they talk of that time that no one else really remembers. They lie in the grass of the park that she still lives beside, and count the stars. Even though she knew there would be a meteor shower tonight, it still brings tears to her eyes. He looks at her with that steady gaze of his for a long moment before he kisses her. She doesn’t ask him in, he would doubtless make an excuse and leave if she did. So they make love right there in the grass, the rising dew dampening their clothes and skin, oddly free and protected in the open dark. Both knowing that when the sun comes up they’ll go their separate ways once again so treasuring this moment all the more.
Another moment in time that no one else will understand, but this one is theirs alone, and unlike the last it is very much of this earth.
Eight/Master(Roberts), Eight/Grace, Grace/Donna