200 words: Ace and her bat.
Anonymous asked you:
The weight felt good in her hand. No matter how much she respected the Doctor and his way of doing things she always felt better armed. Stronger and more certain for something in hand that could do some serious damage, something more than just her.
She loved the Doctor, not like how Hex teased her (with shades of hurt and jealousy behind his eyes) but not like a parent ether. The Doctor was something else altogether and that she couldn’t put her finger on what it was they shared never bothered her or made it seem less important.
But the Doctor was the Doctor and Ace was Ace and no mater how much she admired him or how much, deep down, she wanted his approval she knew he wasn’t always right. He could get by on tricks, grins and whimsy but people, real people, sometimes they needed more. Sometimes they needed baseball bats because they only had one life to throw away on their principles.
But she would never tell him. And if it made her feel like she was lying some days, like she was holding back from someone she loved. Well then that made them just about even.