Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. (But if I ever become even half the writer Steven Moffat is, I shall be quite content.)
Him and Her
He walks slowly around the console, his footsteps ringing off the glass platform, echoing through the vast chromium control room and down the deserted corridors beyond.
Another friend has left him. When in pain, a human will often say he feels as though his heart will break. But this man...he has two. He endures twice the grief, twice the "heartbreak." His companions always go eventually, even those who promise they never will. It's one of the many curses of being the last Timelord in existence, he supposes. He outlives everyone he cares about...save for one being.
He runs one hand reverently over the controls as he circles the massive hexagonal console and comes to a stop before a large lever. He leans forward, looks affectionately up at the glowing blue center and murmurs, as if to a person, "Hello there, Old Girl."
To anyone else, the console appears to be a chaotic mix of useless devices, but to him, it's the most beautiful, beloved thing the universe. It's more spectacular than the most brilliant sunset, more fantastic than any discovery, more important and special than any person he has met, or memory he has made.
Straightening, he claps his hands together. "So! Where do you want to go this time?"
A delighted grin lights up his face as the console comes to life, glowing brighter as tiny lights begin to blink, the lever slams down, and the date counter spins into motion. Despite the untraversable dimensional barrier between them, they're very much together, and she's very much alive.
He will continue to find companions and show them the universe, even though he knows they will inevitably leave him, and some will cause him nearly more pain than his two hearts can bear. But he will bear it, because when those two doors close after a good friend's departure, no matter what has happened or will happen, it will always be Him and Her: the Ancient Man and his precious Blue Box.