Saving the Doctor

Chapter 23

I turn around to see a handsome man who looks to be about 27 watching me closely. His skin tone is an amazing shade of tan and his eyes are a deep, gentle, yet piercing brown that seems to have some green sprinkled in. His facial features say that he's possibly of Oriental descent, but at the same time, you can't tell if you should trust it or not. He's at least an inch or two taller than I am, and his hair is the darkest black I've ever seen. He's solidly built and is wearing a suit much like the ones hanging just behind me.

Okay, I take it back. He's not just handsome.

He is drop-dead gorgeous.

If you can describe a guy that way.

Which I think you can.

He smiles at me and I realize that I'm staring. I turn a bright shade of red and drop my eyes to the floor, mentally kicking myself for looking like an idiot as I try to get rid of the obvious blush I have on my face.

I can still feel his eyes on me as he speaks up again. "I'm glad you came back. I was so disappointed that I didn't get to meet you before you left, and I was worried when we couldn't find you that you had gotten lost."

Oh my god, even his voice. It's not as beautiful as the voices of the Cobbleen, but it comes pretty close. And what kind of accent is that? It's not British or American. It's not even Scottish, but whatever it is, it's spellbinding.

I can't think of anything to say, but thankfully the Doctor can. "We just came to return the dress."

He pulls it out of his jacket pocket, making me wonder when he put it there. He didn't seem to care one bit about it before. Though, I don't remember what happened to it after I had been rendered immobile by the Cobbleen's strange weapon.

He continues, "It really doesn't suit her and I don't approve of her wearing something so revealing."

Do what, now?

The man turns his gaze towards the Doctor and studies him momentarily. "Really? I thought it suited her quite well. Who are you to decide what this beautiful young woman can and cannot wear?"

Yeah. Just who does he think he is? I mean. Not that I want to wear the dress, it's just that he's acting like he's in charge of my life or something.

Wait.

Did he just call me beautiful?

The Doc glares at him. "I'm her father."

Oh.

Okay, then. I suppose we would need a cover, but I wish he'd tell me these things first.

The man smiles at him. "My apologies. Very well, then. I shall take your concern into consideration. You may return the dress if you wish, but perhaps the young lady would like a different dress?"

He turns his attention back to me and walks over, the Doc handing him the dress. His gaze stays on me, though, as he reaches to the side, towards a different dress. He pulls it away from the rest of the dresses hanging there and presents it to me, coming to stand almost right in front of me.

"What do you think of this one, dearest?"

'Dearest'?

What the heck is going on here?

Wait.

He asked me something. What was it?
The dress. He asked me about the dress he's got in his hands. What do I do? What am I supposed to say? Why isn't my brain working?

Say something, you idiot!

"Uh..."

Great. Now I not only look like an idiot, I also sound like an idiot.