Dorothy is a fairy tale.
As a fairy tale, she believes in two things with absolute certainty: Magic and happy endings.
She links her pinkie with his as they lie in the dewy grass on Scarbora 8.
"Am I ever going to convince you to believe in magic, Doctor?"
"Am I ever going to convince you to believe in science, Dorothy?"
Sometimes he believes in magic.
He doesn't talk about it often, because usually he's arguing science versus magic with his companion and it's much more interesting to see her face get all red and her shoulders square off when she argues with him than it is to admit he occasionally thinks she's right.
How can he not believe in magic once in a while?
Oh, he can rattle off the scientific reasons for the light of a passing shooting star hovering over them as they sit on a hill and stare at the sky. He can explain the adrenaline shooting through their veins at the surprise lightshow and the hormones and physical attraction that make it feel like this particular moment is special to just them. In that way, he knows that series of events and the way they feel is far from magical.
But sometimes, it just feels that way.
"Am I ever going to convince you to believe in happy endings, Doctor?"
A more serious reply. "No."
He's seen too much, he's fallen in love too much, he knows too much to think that there's an ending that'll ever be perfect and happy like a fairy tale might want. He can feel her sad expression without looking over to her. She wants to make him happy, she wants to make him believe in the things he doesn't want to believe in anymore.
And sometimes, like moments like this? He thinks she just might.
That would be enough to convince him that magic is real, if nothing else in the universe could.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 322
Based on rp with galeforcehero