A Reminiscing Curator

A/N I don't own anything you recognize. Sorry for all those hoping for a new chapter of A New Time to Make Peace. I plan on getting out a new chapter this Thursday whether my muse wants to cooperate or not even if I have to glue myself to my chair to get it done. Anyway this is in honor of Tom Baker's 80th birthday. Happy Birthday to him. He is not my favorite doctor but was an excellent one none the less and like any classic who fan I practically squealed in delight when I heard his voice in the 50th anniversary special. Anyway I hope you enjoy:)

I didn't know when I awoke this morning that I would see a familiar face. No. I did not. Oh I knew it was coming sure but the date, I never was fond of keeping track of those.

So when I walked into the gallery and saw him staring at one of my favorites be they statue or painting or whatever in all of the museum I was surprised. Did the days really go so fast?

Then the question was whether to approach him or not to approach him. This wasn't really a question at all in fact for it had already happened or maybe it hadn't. Did it matter?

Not really for I made myself known. Oh I realized he would recognize me. How could he not when he had spent so many years hearing that voice when he opened his own mouth so long ago or maybe he would in the future or it was maybe even both.

Once again, it didn't matter anyway. We both knew we knew the other, though I knew more than he. And then the emotions that ran across his face as I explained a painting that was intriguing to us both. The hope when I told him the title and the excitement.

I could only tell him so much of course. I couldn't change the past or maybe it was the future. Either way I couldn't tell him much more. And oh what a future, or past, it was.

He had quite the task ahead and it wouldn't even be as he was then. No. His song was ending, even if he didn't know it. Though the road to Gallifrey and to home had just begun.

I walked away. I had to before I did something that I would regret later or maybe I wouldn't. No matter, it was time to let him go.

I will never forget the time when I was more than I am, more than just a humble curator. As he said, I never forget a face. Despite all the time that has passed or will pass, I could never forget the hardships that lie in my past and in his future.

I wonder sometimes if timelords don't have photographic memories. I guess we'd have to in order to remember just a little of our long lives. Though maybe not considering I still can't remember how long I've lived for or for that matter what day it is.

It doesn't matter. I'm retired. So, enough reminiscing. Where did I put my jelly babies?