Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

Always

He watches her.

He watches the slight lift of her lips whenever he tells her about his dreams of time travel.

He watches the slight crease between her dark eyebrows whenever someone insults her, just because of the colour of her skin.

He watches her small, dark hands flurry as she works on her assigned task.

He watches her and thinks her beautiful.

Though it might have had something to do with the fact that she was in his dreams. Not most of them, mind, just a few. (Well, in the mysterious, impossible dreams that is. In other dreams however…)

For in his dreams she wasn't constricted to wearing her standard maid uniform. No, she wore clothes that would have been viewed as scandalous in the working class society of 1913, even though she showed as little of that luscious dark skin of hers as she did in reality.

Yet, even so, he had seen her feminine curves; the curve of her slender waist before it gave way to equally slender hips.

He watches her.

Always.

And if - by chance - she catches his gaze with her dark, mystifying eyes, he averts his own eyes.

Always.