Notes: Drabble-a-Day 2011. Day 328. Prompt from tw100. Challenge #220-The Categories of Life. Unbeta'd. Comments and concrit welcome.
Summary: Some categories aren't so quaint.
A fixed point in time.
That’s what he’d said to Angelo so long ago. It was a joke then, a throw-a-way line he used to describe something he still didn’t understand. Now it was a verdict from the only judge who mattered.
He went back to Cardiff with the one label he’d never be able to shake stuck in his head, spoken in the Doctor’s voice. Gwen wouldn’t think so. She’d have her own names for him. “Hero,” no doubt. “Lover,” if he was lucky. “Bastard,” inevitably. Those were categories he could live with.
Gwen would never call him “wrong.”