He wasn't overly fond of mirrors. In fact, there was only one in the whole of the TARDIS and that was a full-length silvered glass he'd gotten while visiting Victorian England. It wasn't something he sought out. Sometimes he forgot it was there at all. But every now and again he couldn't resist a peek at himself. He wasn't a slave to vanity so much as curiousity. Not surprisingly, he only seemed to stumble across the mirror after he'd undergone another regeneration. Physically, he always managed to change so completely he hardly seemed the same being at all. But there was something in the eyes that never changed. Whether they became blue or green or brown, they were windows to a keen mind and a sharp intelligence, compassion and the wisdom born of centuries. In a way, the Doctor's eyes were mirrors themselves; reflections of the amazing and terrible things they'd seen througout the cosmos.