The Lucky Life Of None (11th DoctorxReader)

Welcome to Chapytarmanya.

The Doctor worked about the console, flipping switches and turning nobs in no discernable order. Looking very practiced at this activity, he quickly typed on a board and flipped a small screen around.

"So you're really a thousand years old?"

"Yes," he drawled politely, certainly too busy for small talk of this nature. "Give or take a few."

"That's insane! You don't look any older than me!" He stopped flipping and typing, taking the opportunity to scoff at you.

"I would totally disagree with you! You're so young and new! We haven't a thing in common, age wise. I'm like... a well aged fine wine from the Kuratnos nebula that's had just over 9 centuries to mature and grow to taste. You're like freshly squeezed apple juice."

"You know, apple juice is delicious."

"I'm well aware."

"How would you know that?" Neither of you spoke after that, but you could feel the heat on your face as you leaned back. He continued to walk around the console as if nothing had happened, but you could see the faint impression of red staining his cheeks. 

"I wouldn't, now would I?" He said in tone that was eerily... complex and a touch flirty...? But when his eyes found yours, the face he made was completely unassuming- jovial, even- as if he'd never even said it. You'd only spent a few days getting to know the Doctor at this point, and his list of expressions and tones of voice continued to expand at an alarming rate. "Anyway," he began, presumably back to business. "Are you ready?" His hand poised on the lever. You only nodded and grabbed ahold of the console by whatever part wasn't readily movable. 

The ride felt incredibly long this time around, but not in a way that made you think anything was awry. You chalked it up to the unprecedented topic that polluted the Tardis air before.

"Alright, my dear." He walked over and tossed a hand through his bouncy hair.  "Are you ready for Chapytarmanya?" You understood the word well enough, but the Doctor was decidedly better rounded in whatever accent belonged to it than you could fathom.

"Choppy what?"

"Chapytarmanya." He beamed.

"You know, saying it again the exact same way isn't considered helpful in the slightest." He examined you with those dense, foggy greens, drawing out each syllable.

"Chapy"

"Chapy"

"Tar"

"Tar"

"Manya."

"Manya."

"Chapytarmanya."

"Chap... The locals won't get offended if I get the name of their planet wrong, right?"

"I would find a very convenient way to never have to say it." He advised, still perfectly patient, but somehow you knew it was false. Whatever was on this planet, he was excited to see it... Or perhaps to show it to you. Then he bounced on his heels and grinned so wide, you thought his face might somehow split in two. "Are you ready now?"

"To be on an alien planet with an alien guy I just met? As much as I can be." You answered truthfully. He must have sensed your minuscule unease because he stepped ever so slightly closer and wrapped his long, warm fingers around yours. The heat and weight of his hand felt strange in your own, just like it had the first time. However, it wasn't at all an unpleasant or unwelcome feeling.

"You'll always have me. Always. And if I'm not able to come for any reason, then this old girl will always be here to get you back home safe and sound. Good?" He looked around the room before peering at you expectantly.