You hated The Doctor… hated him! Well, at least, that’s what you tried to tell me yourself. Your time with the Time Lord had definitely been an interesting one filled with multiple emotional rollercoasters. At the end of your last trip with him, you’d made this hatred clear after he’d put you on the spot and caused unnecessary stress. Now, you were regretting it. You hadn’t meant it, not really… it was an anger response though The Doctor wasn’t the best at recognising that.

He’d insisted on taking you out in the TARDIS again - ‘One Last Hurrah’ of sorts. In reality, he just didn’t want to let go yet… he wanted to hang on to every last second he could have with you: you were special. Most people were special, but you were special in a way not many ever could be. You’d accepted him through his regeneration and that meant more to him than he ever actually planned on admitting.

The TARDIS doors opened and he guided you out with a smirk, which soon faded. “Huh…” he murmured, looking around a moment before humming, “Ah! Sorry; baggage cart. Through here! Your train awaits, m’lady.” He opened another door and waited for you to follow through as the smirk reappeared on his lips.

As you made your way into the bustling train cart, filled with drinking socialites and old-fashioned music, the choice of clothing he had suggested for you suddenly made sense. A woman in a beautiful golden flapper dress and long black hair sang to the cart of dancing lovers and cumulating strangers. The Orient Express. Well, a space version… The Orient Express spaceship?

The Doctor stepped through beside you, allowing the door to close. “A perfect replication of the original Orient Express! Except slightly bigger… and in space.” He was quiet a moment before adding, “Oh, and the rails are actually hyperspace ribbons. But in every other aspect identical! Painstaking attention to detail.”

There was a moment of quiet that settled between the two of you, simply taking in the atmosphere. You were trying to get your mind to focus on the present rather than the guilt that settled from your previous words but that was proving… difficult. Even if the present was near perfection.

He hummed and cleared his throat, nodding. “You’re doing it again,” He said, soon adding, “That smile...”

“Yeah, so what? I’m smiling!” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed softly and a scoff escaping your lips. Oh, trust him! Truly! Only The Doctor could possibly make smiling sound like a bad thing.

“No, it’s-“ he began, not too sure how to explain his words before shrugging. “That’s the sad smile. You’re smiling but you’re sad. It’s confusing: like two emotions at once. It’s like you’re malfunctioning!” In reality, your smile appeared how he felt.

He watched you silently for an extended while before looking away again. He admired the train cart once more and leaned against the closest standing table. He sighed, “I just felt this would be a good one to… end it.” Though he didn’t seem too sure. He was uncertain, questioning his own choice which was something The Doctor only rarely did.