[ She timed that in well because he was just about to drink his own. Now he just sort of chokes instead - without the coughing, at least - because wow, woman.
[ He hates thinking of telling her that. It makes him feel so incredibly guilty, that he's lived so long and yet his previous self barely got a chance, even if he was so tired when it happened, it... He thinks about it sometimes, and it hurts somehow.
He's not fully sure why.
The answer is cautious, careful, as if he really shouldn't give it. ]
[She has no small imagination or inkling that it would hurt. He'd paled over even thinking about his days gone with Sarah Jane, and she most certainly had enough of an ego to think missing her would be even a little bit painful.
But still, she nods, lips pressed in to be chewed in thought. So it's ... been a long time. Well, maybe two hundred years isn't that long for him, in the scheme of things. But it's still a long time.]
So I guess-- [No. She doesn't even want to say it. She didn't stay with him much longer. If at all. And whether saying it will just confirm it or not, it still stings. There's no changing that.]
[ The furrow to his forehead is so clearly regretful and so very sorry, but even if she had stayed with him, he would have watched her age and die and. That thought is even more painful than what actually happened. It's not strange to him that it is, either.
Everything considering, he likes to think her fate was lucky. At least compared to plenty others. Donna. Adric.
[She's quiet for a few minutes after he speaks, sipping her tea and watching him. Studying, would be the more accurate term. This is the first time she's seen this version in person. It's one thing to watch over a video-bracelet, and another to actually be in person with them.]
Don't just be sayin' that for my benefit. [She means it half jokingly. ... And half not.]
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And it wasn't his fault, gosh! ]
Yeah, a day. Here, that is. I'm eleven hundred now.
[ Or 1150... Or 1200... Possibly. ]
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Eleven hundred? [Excuse her, she's just putting her tea down very neat and proper. Like a lady. Because really?]
That's. [Hm.] I think... this age gap's gettin' a bit out of hand.
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Meaningfully, with fake sternness: ]
It was already out of hand, Rose.
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And I s'pose that's why you kept me around. [Fake sternness right back at you, buddy.]
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[ He reaches across the table to lightly shove her shoulder because really. What are you implying. ]
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Really though. Eleven hundred? You've been busy. [Aaaannnd pause.] How long's it been since y'last saw me? Back home- I mean.
[Nope. Suddenly her cuppa is very, very fascinating.]
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He's not fully sure why.
The answer is cautious, careful, as if he really shouldn't give it. ]
I saw you last when I was still nine hundred.
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But still, she nods, lips pressed in to be chewed in thought. So it's ... been a long time. Well, maybe two hundred years isn't that long for him, in the scheme of things. But it's still a long time.]
So I guess-- [No. She doesn't even want to say it. She didn't stay with him much longer. If at all. And whether saying it will just confirm it or not, it still stings. There's no changing that.]
S'been a while.
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[ The furrow to his forehead is so clearly regretful and so very sorry, but even if she had stayed with him, he would have watched her age and die and. That thought is even more painful than what actually happened. It's not strange to him that it is, either.
Everything considering, he likes to think her fate was lucky. At least compared to plenty others. Donna. Adric.
He offers her a smile. ]
So it's good to have you here.
[ And awful. ]
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Don't just be sayin' that for my benefit. [She means it half jokingly. ... And half not.]
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I'm not.
It... means I remember things, but it is.
[ She knows what he feels about remembering. It's rather inevitable around these parts, apparently. ]