Meeting Him Again

Love Is A Promise

The town centre of Gallifrey had seen a collapse, so Harriet and I had popped out in the TARDIS to 21st century Cardiff. Most people around the area and time were chill with us being two women about to get married, but you can never be certain who's gonna be a prick.

Harriet seemed to have forgotten that she wasn't a burly black dude anymore and didn't have the intimidating aura her last face did.

"Hey, my love, racism doesn't work in our favour so much now," I said as I stood leaning  against the controls  in the TARDIS before taking off. She opened her mouth to interrupt me, so raised a hand to cut her off. "Now we have to work against misogyny and homophobia. All I'm saying is that a skinny white woman holding another skinny white woman's hand isn't as intimidating to bigots as the body builder look you had before, so don't go getting into any fights."

"What if someone's being... I dunno, predatory towards you? I can lift you easy enough, so it's not like this body is weak."

I remembered the other night, where I'd fallen asleep suddenly and in her arms. Harriet had relayed the information that I was clinging to her, and she seemed to not have any objections. She found that getting to know me through different hands and eyes was her pleasure - but, eyes widening as she realised she sounded kind of creepy saying that, assured me she wasn't feeling me up in my sleep.

I turned away from her again and pulled down the lever. The engines whined. "You don't know yourself all too well yet. Don't get hurt. You've got a wedding to attend." A slight gasp escaped my lips as she slid her arms around my waist from behind. I hadn't heard her approach.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she crooned, planting a kiss on my neck. Heat flared to my cheeks from the contact.

"We're landing," I managed to force out.

"Meet me back here at 6pm local time. I don't wanna see whatever you're wearing." She threw a scarf around her neck. "It's bad luck."

Harriet stood in the doorway, her figure highlighted by the winter sun falling through the doors. She stood like a beacon, the very image of beauty, and for one euphoric moment I felt my hearts quicken in my chest - it almost felt as if they'd launched a campaign to burst through my chest. She threw a wink over her shoulder and stepped out into the street.

Too late, I stumbled towards the door, leaning out of it by one hand wrapped around the inside of the door. I cast about the street, stepping on to the cobbles, looking for any sign of Harriet. I managed to spot her, hands pushed deep in the pockets of her denim jacket and her black hair falling in a continuous waterfall down between her shoulder blades, walking through the people crowding the boulevard between shops. I turned on the ball of my foot and locked the TARDIS door - which had turned into a closed-down street food truck - behind me. When I turned back around to face the street, Harriet was gone.

I stared directly into the eyes of my reflection, barely taking up any space in the floor to ceiling mirror, and she looked just about as tired as I felt. Funny that.

This tuxedo fitted me well, unlike the multiple others that were scattered as neatly across the floor of the changing room as I could manage. I'd forgotten how fanciful shopping was.

The staff were all being extremely helpful, but I couldn't shift the feeling that this was somewhere I didn't belong. I told myself that that sensation was only because I was an alien on a planet that hadn't managed to accept all of its own species yet, nevermind others, and that I should stop worrying about my damn wedding. It wasn't like it was an actual wedding wedding, after all. Simply two women who had been in a monogamous relationship for around six hundred years renewing the promises they'd made to each other a lifetime ago.

For the both of us, it was a literal lifetime. I was on face number five, but I'd met Harold on face four. We'd been together for a rough century before getting married, which many had thought was a bit quick back home. Fifty years after we'd married, four had given out and I became the woman I am today.

I must have met Harold when he was only freshly on six, because it's been a good five hundred years married now and she'd only just become seven. I'm sure the whole "renewing vows" thing would've crossed Harold's mind when I regenerated, but he figured that fifty years wasn't long enough for me to not remember what the experience was like through the eyes of my last face.

We were both different now. Older. If there was ever a time for a new beginning, it was now. I still loved her, though.

That much was evident from the smile that had creeped across my face as I let my thoughts roam.

I dumped the clothes over the register, thrumming my fingers on the wood.

"What's the occasion?" the cashier asked, folding and bagging the components in turn.

I glanced down for a second, letting myself smile. "I'm renewing my vows with my wife."

"Oh, congratulations! That's three hundred and fifty four pounds, dear. How long have the two of you been together?"

I laughed, slotting my card into the machine thing and completing the weird human transaction thing. "Six..." I let myself trail off.

"Six years?"

"Centuries. Thank you."