InsaneJournal

The aftershocks of the day's quake had come and gone, and the Doctor could say with reasonable certainty that the shuddering of the earth within the glass dome had reached it's rightful end. He'd spent the day running and carrying things and jumping and crawling and climbing. Yet, there he was, walking down the road with his hands shoved deep into his suit coat pockets, his trench coat currently in the depths of the museum. He knew he would need to go back for it. There was no way he would leave it in there. For right now, he knew it was safe, draped somewhere in the crumbling structure next to a no-doubt damaged half finished sonic modulator.

The Doctor's mind, however, was quiet. He was letting himself feel the pull of this planet around it's world as it hurled through time and space like an unstoppable mass. The Doctor knew what it took to stop a planet. He knew what it would take to rip this place form it's orbit and fling it into the far reaches of space outside any hope of time holding any meaning. Yet, all he could think of was the quiet of the dirt as his trainers moved along at a steady pace.

Rounding a bend he spied Gambit at a distance, his hair quite red despite the low light, his jacket a tell-tale feature as well. Without a word the Doctor watched, his steps leading him ever nearer. Gambit, it appeared, was staring at the Post Office.

The road started to crunch like gravel under his steps, no doubt alerting Gambit to his presence. It wasn't like the Doctor was trying to be stealthy anyway - he just didn't want to interrupt Gambit's train of thought, is all.

"Waiting for a letter?" He asked quietly, coming to a halt not far from him.