babsbabblings1

Memory

2009-01-10T05:41:29Z

Title: Memory
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: ST:TNG
Pairing: Tasha/Data
Summary: Memories sometimes cause problems.
Author's Note: I'm going to be doing a bit more with relationship in short stories so I thought I would put this up. If anyone has seen "The Child" 2x1 and would like to have a short discussion about how I'm going to screw that up...please feel free to drop a note. Thanks! Enjoy

“Lieutenant…open a secure channel with StarFleet. I’ll take it in my Ready Room.”

Tasha nodded and tapped out the instructions and patched through to the Captain’s personal console. As the Captain strode from the bridge, he tapped Data on the shoulder. With a nod, and like clockwork, the Second Officer rose and nodded to the Ops Ensign. She took the Ops/Comm station as Data walked back to the Captain’s chair. Before the Captain had entered the Ready Room, command had changed hands smoothly.

In the month since the ‘incident’, Tasha found she often thought of Data. She was very careful to be only professional with him. Very occasionally, she would analyze what little she knew about that night. Apparently, she had been out walking the corridors of the ship and yet it was only Data she had taken back to her room. Why had she chosen him? She accepted him as a friend, and liked him as an officer as well. However, she liked quite a few others and counted many as her friends.

Her gaze moved to watch the slight sway of his shoulders, and as he turned, her gaze drifted down to his buttocks. The Starfleet uniform was always just…tight…enough on Data to show his lines, but not tight enough to be obscene. His chest and shoulders were defined as were his ass and thighs. He was made very concisely to be very pleasing to the eye…dressed and naked. It wasn’t the first time she had indulged in watching him on the bridge.

“Lieutenant Yar?” Worf intruded on her reverie and she quickly moved her gaze from the Commander to her second in command.

“What is it, Worf?”

His bulk joined her at the Tactical Station. “I read the report that you gave the Captain about Security.”

She nodded and turned to lean against the console. “And you disagree or agree with my assessment?”

“I agree with the assessment,” Worf offered. Although he didn’t smile, the straightening of his spine and the set of his shoulders were what she considered ‘Worfese’ for pride. “And I….appreciate…you recommending me for promotion.”

“Well, Worf…” Tasha said warmly. “It was time you were promoted to full Lieutenant. And, on a ship this large, it is both Riker’s and my assessment that we need a separate Tactical and Security detail. And you are just as knowledgeable as I about both Tactical and Security issues. You would be a shoe in as a Tactical Officer.”

“Shoe in?”

“Perfect for it, Worf,” she clarified. “You and I could be interchangeable for the positions. Besides, you’ve been at this as long as I have.” She checked the sensor sweep again. “Do you have a problem with a dual command in the Security and Tactical divisions? We could do some amazing things with training…”

“Indeed. No.” Worf shifted his weight and let his gaze drift to the scene out the viewport. “I do not have a problem with that.”

“It will have to come up for a view and vote at Starfleet Command,” Tasha reassured. “By this time, next year, we’ll know. The Captain, Commander Riker and Commander Data all agree that it is something that should be instituted on Galaxy and Nebula class starships.” She traced her hand down the console and then held it up. “What with all the dignitary ferrying, diplomatic missions we do and as the Flag Ship of the Line-“

“It makes very good sense,” Data interjected from the floor. He had returned to the Captain’s chair and was perusing the ship’s communications. “We may be asked to involve ourselves in both military and peace missions. A Tactical Officer and a Security Officer would be extremely useful.” He nodded to Worf and then Tasha before returning to his task.

Worf nodded and returned to his position in front of the Engineering panel.

Tasha sighed and perused the sensor sweep again. Her interactions with Data were often on par with the exchange that had just occurred. There were no harsh words or looks exchanged. He, and Geordi LaForge, often still joined Worf, Deanna and her for drinks after missions. Sometimes Commander Riker, to Deanna’s chagrin, would join them. The camaraderie was missing with the Omicron Theta native Lieutenant Commander, however.

The young new ops Ensign turned slightly from the station to look at Data.

“Sir…”

Data immediately reacted. “Yes, Ensign?”

“We are receiving a distress call. A freighter…the Trinity…it is a Sydney class ship…” The youngish man responded. A few more taps on the console and there was more to report. “They were under attack. Their engineering reports severe problems…an overload in their warp engines.”

“How many aboard?” Data asked in a clipped manner. “State the nature of the overload.”

“Four hundred and fifty colonists aboard…slow coolant leak. Sir…the leak is approaching critical levels. Estimate two hours to warp core breach.”

“Change course to intercept,” Data ordered and turned to stride to the Captain’s seat. “Increase speed to warp nine.” He tapped his combadge. “Captain to the bridge.” He pivoted and sat in the chair; his fingers danced across the access screens. “We will intercept in 20 minutes. They are in an ion field…transporters will be useless.”

Tasha drilled her station for information. She calculated the number and speed of the available transports. “It will take approximately 1 hour to transfer the members and sir,” Tasha said quietly.

Data glanced up at her and she continued. “This also puts us dangerously close to Cardassian space.”

He nodded. “I know, Lieutenant.”

**

“Shuttle 5 docking, port side of the Trinity,” Tasha said into the comlink.

“Acknowledged!” Data called back. “Stablizers are beginning to fail, Tasha. Adjust your approach accordingly!”

She bit her lip and concentrated. Within three minutes, she was able to land the shuttle in the bay. Quickly, she unbuckled her flight harness and was down the ramp. Just stepping onto the ship was like taking a bath in stress. Tasha didn’t have to be a Betazoid to feel her own psyche react. Worf had left the Trinity with 20 colonists as Tasha had landed. O’Brien was probably at the Enterprise already.

With a hop and a jog, she ran across the cargo bay to Riker. “How many more groups, sir?”

“Just this one!” He yelled back. “All right, everyone! We are going to take the rest of you in this transport. Please file onboard and find a place to sit. It is going to be a full flight so please, move as far in as you can.”

“How full?!” Tasha asked.

“Exactly at maximum,” Riker replied, “with you, Data and me on board.”

“Nothing like cutting it close.” She smiled at him. “So are we flipping a coin as to the pilot?” As she spoke, the deck began to list to the starboard. She adjusted her stance and grabbed ahold of the command console. It stopped at a twenty percent incline. “Where’s Commander Data?”

“Doing a last survivor sweep,” Riker responded and frowned. “He should be back- Data!” He ordered on the combadge. “Where are you?”

“Approaching cargo bay. I have more survivors, Commander!” Data’s clear, clipped voice sounded over the badge.

Tasha and Riker glanced at each other. “Understood, Data,” he responded and ended the conversation on the badge. “Options?”

“We can put 25 at most in the shuttle including pilot, if there are children…” Tasha supplied. “That’s 5 over the standard complement.” She shook her head. “If he brings back more than 3, we’ll have to send for another shuttle.”

As she spoke, the deck listed more to the starboard. “Not enough time,” Riker growled. “This ship will begin to spin any moment. Stabilizers won’t do a bit of good then. Warp core breach will occur in the next 20 minutes.”

“True!” Data called as he came around the corner into the cargo bay. “Actually, it is 19 minutes, 49 seconds.” In his arms he carried two children, and had two teenagers. “These are the last of the colonists, Commander.”

The deck began to tilt a little more. Data adjusted his stance, helped the two teenagers keep their balance and charged across the floor towards the transport. “We are out of time, I believe, sir. Spin is imminent.”

“And with the full complement, we would be too heavy to maneuver out of here, Data,” Riker called.

“Again, you are correct, sir,” Data stated as he set the children down on the deck outside of the shuttle. He patted the small toddler on the backside to get her moving toward the interior. The other teenager picked the girl up and disappeared inside. “I have found another method of transport: a single seat flyer. Two of us can use that to leave here.”

“Understood,” Riker said. The deck tilted another three degrees. “We’re out of time. Data, you’re cleared on advanced tactical flying, are you not?”

Data nodded. “Yes, sir, I am-“

“Take the shuttle.”

With a frown, Data shook his head. “Sir, I believe that you should take the shuttle. You have higher clearance on larger vehicles. Likewise, it is a Bellesian flyer…”

“And you can translate faster to fly it,” Riker nodded. “Make it so. Tasha, you’re with Data.”

“But sir…” Tasha began, but at a look from Will, she quieted. There were some times to argue with the Commander, and definitely some times not to. The transport would be too close to overweight with Riker…she would only put it over the mark. “Aye, sir.”

“Good luck,” Riker shouted as he turned to jog to the shuttle. “See you on the Enterprise!”

Data nodded in response and turned to Tasha. “This way!” He turned to run out of the cargo bay. “It is in Cargo Bay 2.”

“But that one is full of debris,” she yelled as she ran up the inclined deck towards the corridor.

“Yes. That is why we missed it previously.” He charged up the corridor, leaning heavily into the list.

“How the hell are we going to fly in it?”

“It can fly with our combined weight. We must hurry.”

Tasha didn’t need to be told twice. She struggled after Data, relying on her strength to keep up with the Commander. She thanked her luck that she was in excellent shape. It helped as well that Data was moving and securing pieces of metal ahead of her. She could see the small flyer ahead of them, and as the deck started to list more, she scrabbled after Data.

“Holy…” Tasha cursed as she grabbed the support and clung as the deck began to turn slowly. She realized that the internal stablizers were fried. The flyer was secured, but other things were not. With horror, she realized that the cargo bay was going to become a closed shooting gallery with her and Data as easy targets. “Not good,” she growled. With a surge of strength, she clawed up side scaffolding another three meters. She was only about 10 meters from the ship. Data was ahead of her, almost to the flyer.

“Hang on!” He called. In the next moment, as she slipped her arm through the scaffolding, her feet left the floor and she dangled. Everything that wasn’t nailed down sailed past her and around her to the far wall and then the ceiling. “The cycle of turn is 30 seconds!”

Tasha nodded. “The problem won’t be this turn,” she shouted in return. “It’s the next one when all of the material in here-“

“Yes.” Data said, his feet dangling only a half a meter away from her head. “That is an astute observation.”

The deck continued its slope until she was able to lower her feet to the deck. It immediately began to roll. Data’s hand closed on hers and she was pulled up the sloped deck and braced when it sloped away from them. They were six meters from the flyer as the floor sloped again. Data lunged another meter and Tasha yelled as he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her hard towards him. He pushed her into one of the supports and wrapped his body around hers.

“What?!”

“Hold on!” He warned, as his hands framed her on the support. The back of her thighs were hit with something warm and very solid and his feet connected with the bottom of hers. In one millisecond, she realized what he was doing.

“Data!”

“My body can handle hits from this debris,” he answered in a low voice. “Hold on!” He pushed his legs up into the back of hers; bending her knees until both hers and his legs were nearing the support. Understanding what he wanted, she pulled her legs up and hooked them into metal support. His legs mirrored hers in a split second as the floor completely tilted away from them.

“You aren’t indestructible!” Tasha yelled. He pulled up with his arms and legs and at the press of his body, she did similarly.

“I am more indestructible than you,” he returned. “Excuse me…Tasha…” he said as he pressed his chin into her shoulderl. She drew in a breath and held it as she concentrated on holding still, holding her body up and off of Data. The room spun; she could feel vibrations and the tensing of Data’s muscles as a container hit his back.

“Data!” She yelled.

“I am fine!” He responded as she felt him adjust his stance. “My skeletal structure can withstand much more than this! Bring your head back!”

Tasha leaned her head back against his chest as he pulled up closer. She realized that she was now a sliver of person between a metallic support and Data’s body. Several containers rolled down the wall and then shifted. They missed them. But she watched as the pile in the corner increased. “Data…”

He pulled up hard, his legs and arms tightening. She was pressed hard against the support. “Debris incoming,” Data said quietly.

Tasha closed her eyes as she felt Data’s body vibrate with hits. “Are you all right?!”

There were no sounds or movement from behind her; there was only the steel strength of his body against hers. She bit her lip and waited until the room slid a little bit more and the floor was within reach. Data, obviously, had the same idea. His legs relaxed and released. She followed suit, dangling, bumping into him. He dropped to the ground first, his hands landing her hips as her feet hit the deck a moment later.

“Run!” Data instructed as he pushed passed her towards the transport only five meters away. As the deck sloped down, she slid and stumbled and as it began to slope up, Data ran to the door of the flyer.

Tasha felt her hand grabbed as the floor began to roll again. Data braced in the flyer’s interior and pulled hard on her hand. She rocketed up the meter to stand on the exoskeleton of the ship. There was only one seat. Data glanced at her quickly and then sat down in the seat. “Oh hell…” she breathed.

The turn began to become almost unmanageable as he pulled her down onto the seat, across his lap and tapped the mechanism to close the cockpit. As it slid closed, Data’s fingers danced over the controls and lights began to illuminate on the flight screen to her right. “My apologies, Lieutenant. I could not sit on top of you: my weight would exceed your comfort levels…” The launch restraints descended from the seat. They secured over Data’s shoulders and he clamped his hand on her shoulder and laid his arm across her legs.

She gripped the back of the seat. “Could this get any worse?”

Data’s head tilted as the flyer, cockpit and most of the world turned upside down. “There is insufficient information to respond to that question, Tasha.” He studied the control panel. She watched his gold eyes flicker, his lips slightly curled as he ingested the information. “Ah. Simple translation from Ralian. It is a standard layout. We have full power.”

“Data…” Tasha groaned.

“As soon as the bay approaches a sixty degree incline, I will release the clamps. I should be able to pilot the flyer out by the sixty degree incline on the other roll. I would recommend bracing yourself.” She tried to adjust in the seat as the clamps were removed and pressed against Data’s chest as the flyer released. “Ooof!”

His right arm behind her shoulders adjusted the thrusters as the other one, over her knees, expertly and with minute control, began to pilot the directionals. His left brow arched over his very active eyes. She held onto his shoulder as the flyer rolled slightly to match the roll of the freighter. “Just five…seconds…more…”

The flyer exited the Bay at a ninety degree angle. As Data rolled the flyer back down to its normal flight pattern, he glanced at Tasha. “We will be balanced in a moment. Confer with the Enterprise, intercept in 15 minutes.”

Half laid, half seated on Data’s lap, Tasha decided it was going to be the longest fifteen minutes of her life. She knew there was no other way to be in the flyer with Data and moving about would disturb the weight balance in the vehicle. She knew he had her weight distributed counter to his. But still, knowing that logic, didn’t change the fact that her ass was against Data’s hard thighs. It was the closest, physically, she had been to him in a month. The only thing she could think of was how warm he was.

Warm and gentle and erotic… Warm hands moving down her thighs, tickling her sensitive skin…

She clamped down on the stray memory.

“We are moving at full impulse. We will clear the minimum distance before warp core breach,” he intoned. He moved his hands over the controls. “Your facial expression shows uneasiness, Tasha. We will be fine with the explosion.”

“It’s not that, Data,” she groused. “This isn’t a great position for the Chief of Security, or a Starfleet officer for that matter, to be in. I mean, look at me, draped across your lap!”

“There was no other applicable way for all of us to leave the freighter. This flyer was able to handle a maximum just exceeding our combined weight, Tasha, and the distribution is amiable to steady navigation. The addition of you to the shuttle would have put it over maximum weight to allow proper calculation of trajectory.”

“I know, Data, but still…” She sighed with a bit of anger. “How will this look to the Captain, to Riker?”

“I doubt they will harshly judge you in the matter. Survival far outweighs the possibility of embarrassment.”

“That coming from a man that can’t feel embarrassment,” Tasha interjected. “That’s hardly reassuring. Damn, I should have received my auxiliary combat piloting training before now.”

“Is it not better,” Data pressed, “to be alive to feel the embarrassment than to be dead? In addition, I do not believe this position warrants embarrassment. There is no other possible seating arrangement. Our heights are too properly matched to allow you to sit forward and there is no other place for you in the back that would not elicit injury to your person. This is the only possible arrangement.”

“I hate when you are right,” she grunted.

“I am not often wrong,” Data said with a slight tilt of his head. His mouth opened a little as he processed information. “Does this mean that you often hate me?”

“It’s a saying, Data,” she sighed with exasperation.

“Intriguing.” After a moment, he shifted his leg and she was more comfortably settled between his now spread thighs. “I believe that will be more comfortable and will not allow for lack of circulation.” She had to agree that she felt more comfortable, however, this placed her face a little lower than his and made her feel…uneasy. Other women might have felt protected; she didn’t. She stared at him in the red light of the cockpit interior. With the gold of his skin and eyes, the red ambiance almost made his coloring almost look human.

And he almost looked sad.

He turned his head suddenly to meet her glance, but she looked away quickly.

“I am used to scrutiny,” he said quietly. “I do not mind.”

“I don’t hate you,” she offered instead of following the conversation as it stood.

“I am relieved,” Data stated.

“Simply because of what I said? You actually thought I hated you?” Tasha pressed.

“No,” Data corrected. “However, in conjunction with your avoidance of me other than in group gatherings and at work, I did, wonder…” He drew out the word and Tasha was surprised. She detected…a bit of emotion, she thought. A very little, like a tasting of wine; so little, in fact, that she couldn’t even name what she thought she heard. “…if I had done something to offend you.”

“Why would you think that?”

His gaze met hers and she blinked her eyes closed. “Never mind, no you haven’t…offended…me, Data.”

“Then I must assume that your avoidance of me is from our…interaction…” Data frowned slightly and turned his head with a jerk. Tasha sighed, but his voice sounded again, almost controlling in its gentleness. It made her NOT want to talk over his words…damn it. “This is not a usual reaction to a liaison. Unless, of course…”

“Data, I hadn’t wanted to discuss this again!” She began, her voice raised and clipped.

“Then I will cease,” Data replied quietly.

A simple look at his expression, with its perfect lack of emotion, made her feel guilty beyond if he had offered up a sacrificial emotion at her feet. With a groan, she said: “All right, Data. Yes, people react like that sometimes to sex. Especially after a one night stand.”

“Ah…” Data said with a nod. “One-night stand, a fling: a one time sex interaction between two people who usually have no prior knowledge or attachment to one another. However, we are known to each other. We are friends, are we not?”

“Well, of course we’re friends,” she said exasperatedly. He plowed ahead even as she felt uneasy and she promised that she would set a phaser on kill and shoot the next time she felt bad about not discussing something with Data that was personal.

“Additionally, I was aware through introspection, that when you told me that it never happened, it meant that I was not to talk about the instance. I may have to assume that you think I have told someone about our time. I have not.”

Tasha’s hands had balled in fists. “Damn it, Data! The main reason I’ve been staying away from you is because I felt like I used you! I can’t remember what I did…what we did. For all I know…oh to hell with it.”

Data became silent. His left hand moved quietly and efficiently over the control panel. After a moment, he spoke.

“You did not use me, Tasha. I was a participant that was willing. I am quite capable of saying no to something in which I do not wish to be involved and I do have a sense of self respect and self worth. I agreed to the liaison.” After a moment, he drew a breath. “It was an exceedingly intriguing and…special.”

Tasha looked beyond him, moving her gaze from his eyes to the starfield as he finished speaking. There was a ticking of emotion in her at his last sentence, but she didn’t want to examine it, not right then. Not on his lap, for Gods’ sake! “I don’t want to talk about this, Data.”

“And I will not mention it again,” he reassured. “However, I had to know if I had done something to cause this reaction, or if it was our interaction. Do you wish to cease being friends?”

“God, no. No, I…” Tasha bit out. She gave a sour laugh. “I just need…time. There are other issues that go beyond this, Data. All right?”

“As you wish,” he intoned. “But, you should know: I do not think ill of you. I wish to remain friends. And I have been told that I am a good listener, if you need to talk. ”

Tasha kept her gaze out the viewport and slowly nodded. “I’ll…keep that in mind.”

She lapsed into silence as Data piloted the ship. She could feel his hard thighs beneath hers…hard in both structure and memory.

Strong muscles, yet soft against the interior of her thighs…a strong hand, soft palm against her chin, tilting her head up to meet a kiss. Gentle, easy, loving…warm lips and warm tongue… warm hands turning her to her stomach, leading her to rise on her knees…kisses on the nape of her neck…long fingers massaging, feeling his way…

Tasha turned her gaze completely away from the warped space and found her gaze on Data’s profile.

…his hands kept her in position as he rubbed himself against her and then pistoned into her. Her hands gathered the material under her into fists of pleasure, hearing a small masculine grunt behind her, her name…gentle fingers…warm palms…leading her into a tempo.

Christ, she thought. Had it been that good?

Was she ever going to remember more of it?

She clamped down on that thought as she felt a rush of warmth. This was not the place to think about any of that. She needed to forget about it…and work on being…friends…she didn’t want all this…baggage.

**

Afterthought

2008-12-10T15:05:58Z

Title: Afterthought
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: It's all Paramount, not me.
Summary: What is going on in Tasha's mind the day after The Naked Now.

“I’m sure we all did something that might be considered…less than becoming for a Starfleet officer, but it remains that we were all…infected…with the virus. We ask that you treat this as you would any other strange or interdimensional happening. Counseling will be given to those of you who request such attention.”

The crowd milled a little. This was the first time that the full crew, except for current bridge crew, had been collected in one area As Tasha moved her gaze from one row to the next of her Security personnel, she saw confusion, anger…bewilderment, and maybe just a little self-satisfaction. She didn’t know what to think about her own…interdimensional…happening. She could recall nothing between dropping Geordi off in SickBay and being found in a corridor in a purple silk babydoll some hours later.

Deanna Troi was in her full uniform looking as ‘official’ as Tasha had ever seen her. She also knew, after stopping by Deanna’s cabin the previous night, that this was the busiest that her friend had ever been in StarFleet. It wasn’t something that Deanna enjoyed, this almost overwhelming as this…but she wanted to help. As they had discussed the night previously:

‘One thousand people on this starship, Tasha…and about two thirds did something they either really liked or really enjoyed. And half of those want to forget they did it. The other half want to relive it. That last third can’t remember a bloody thing…’ She smiled at Tasha.

‘I’m one of them,’ Tasha had admitted. ‘The doctor found me in Level 10 corridor in lingerie and I can’t remember anything about how I got there.’

Deanna stepped to her and held her hands. ‘Eventually it will come to you…and I’ll be here for you. But I will tell you that it wouldn’t make you do something that is not in your personality. It simply removed your…inhibitions. You aren’t a bad person, Tasha; you didn’t do something horrible.’

She hoped that was true. But, she thought bitterly, simply doing something while not under control was horrible for her.

Tasha stood at attention in the back of the shuttle bay. Worf manned the other exit. They exchanged a nod. Her second in command had not been affected by the virus at all and had remained on the bridge throughout the entire situation. She was proud of that, however… she didn’t want to think what he thought right now. She shifted a little and watched as Deanna assigned different duty rosters to different counselors. It was amazing to watch how efficient she was.

“I am assigning times to have teams of counselors meet with subdivisions. Your commanding and or bridge officer will coordinate with you. But, please, know that both my team and I are here for you.” Deanna stopped speaking and smiled widely. “Our doors are always open…Now…”

“…Security,” Deanna called out. Tasha held up her hand and walked towards the center. Troi slipped her the PADD with the assignments for her teams. She glanced at it and tapped her combadge. “All security report to the Security Command Center in 30 minutes.”

With a smile at Deanna, she moved back to her post by the door as the other Operations Groups moved out of the shuttle hanger.

Worf approached and gave a nod as he passed her. The evening before, he had escorted her back to her cabin from the corridor on Deck 10. He had barely met her eyes and hadn’t spoken to her since. What did he know about what had happened? She had studied the security tapes, but it had shown nothing. The only thing she had were two slight bruises on her hip bones that she couldn’t explain. And for what she could remember…

Lights turning off in her quarters…one solitary candle illuminating the bed. And a feeling of gentleness and joy…and love…

“Tasha?”

She was startled out of her reverie as a warm hand closed on her elbow. Her gaze moved to the hand, up the arm, to a familiar face. Data was standing next to her, his head cocked to one side in what she had come to know in the last two months as either confusion or concern.

“Hi, Data…” She looked around the cargo bay. “Are your groups coming on for Deanna’s talk?”

“Yes, Tasha,” he responded. “We are scheduled next. How are you?”

“Fine…why?” She asked as she watched the last of her shift leave the room. “I apparently didn’t drink to distraction as other did…” She laughed.

His gold eyes didn’t blink and his hand remained on her elbow. It was a good thing too, or probably would have bolted at the next thing he said: “The hematomas on your hips…do they cause you pain?” He asked. Before he could continue, she grasped his hand and pulled him hard towards the control booth off to the side.

“How the hell did you know about the bruises!?” She nearly shouted as the door slid shut behind them, enclosing them in the small, empty space. Tasha rounded on him; she hadn’t told anyone about the bruises; hadn’t seen Medical about them. She realized that her hand was still gripping his hand hard. She released it and took a deep breath; ran a hand through her hair. “Sorry, Commander…”

“It is understandable. You appear…I think the term is…distressed.” Data stood where she had led him. His hand slowly returned to his side. “And we are on a first name basis, Tasha. If you recall…when we met-“

She nodded and drew a deep breath. Slowly, she sat on the control panel; her hips still hurt. “How did you know about the bruises, Data?”

“Regrettably, I caused them.” His head was slightly inclined to the left side. “You do not remember?”

Tasha found her next breath was harder to draw. She frowned and demanded better control of her body. “No.”

“It is rare that I forget my strength, Tasha. I apologize for the bruises…” He held up his hands, his long fingered artist hands and gave them a slight frown. “There were two minutes when it was not important that I concentrate on the degree of pressure, but rather my tempo. I also found my ability to concentrate on several…”

“Tem..po?” Tasha whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed. His voice was so bass and quiet that she wondered what his thought processes were. “I was dealing with many variables at the time: Pressure on your hips, my weight on your body, the amount of pressure and vibration that Starfleet issue beds can take, how to properly match my tempo to your internal muscle spasms. Likewise, my subroutine for operations was calculating the number of persons who can be on shift at any one time…and then…when the infection invaded my upper positronic brain…everything except what was happening at the time seemed not to matter much…”

“What…didn’t matter?” Tasha was glad she was sitting. Her intuition was lit up like a Christmas tree; she didn’t like where this was going.

“Doctor Crusher and Geordi say that when I was infected with the virus, only subroutines needed were allowed to run. In essence, my primary controls were allowing only certain programs to run and those were ones being used by my sensory pathways. And at that particular time signature, the main sensory input was you…” He took a step closer to her. “Tasha, you look unwell.”

Tasha swallowed and stood. Her steps were slow and deliberate as she neared him. “Data? What…exactly…were we doing?” She wanted it expressly spelled out to her. She needed it to be. She felt a shock of warmth and her stomach sank; she was nervous and…

Dark hair between her fingers…pale lips teased her taut nipple…

His next words mirrored her sudden memories.

“We were…” Data said quietly, his gaze following her, as if he was now worried about her reactions. “…mating.”

**

Deanna could feel Tasha’s distress before she entered Ten Forward. She could almost taste the…uncertainty…in her. It wasn’t often that she delved into her friend’s mind, in fact; she made it a point to stay OUT of her friends’ minds. However, the level of distress from Tasha was such that she wanted to help alleviate it.

The lithe lieutenant came forth at a very clipped pace and eased into the chair across from Deanna.

“Are your hips bothering you?”

“Yes,” Tasha said with a grin. “And before you ask…I’m not going to Sick Bay about it. I’ll just deal with it the old fashioned way.”

“Suffer?”

Tasha gave a laugh. “Yeah, pretty much.” As Guinan moved passed her, she glanced up at her bartender friend. Before she could say anything more, Guinan nodded and moved off towards the bar.

Deanna watched her go with barely contained laughter. “She’s a better counselor at times than I am. I wonder what drink she’ll bring back for you this time.”

“Something Synthehol and yummy as usual,” Tasha said. “She knows I need it.”

“As I felt. You are completely out of sorts, Tasha,” Deanna urged as she sat forward. “What’s happened?”

Tasha sighed. Deanna saw the moves she was used to in her friend: the slight shrug of her shoulders with crossed arms, the movement of her gaze off to her left. It was typical when Tasha was closing herself off to an issue or a situation. She shook her head slowly. “Just talk to me as your friend, Tasha.”

“I...have a reason for the pain in my hips. I’m bruised there and that is directly related,” Tasha began, “…to what I was doing last night.”

“And?”

“And, what?” Tasha said. “It’s a bit…thanks, Guinan…” she said quietly as the bartender set a large glass with lavender liquid in front of her.

“No charge, Tasha,” Guinan said cheerfully. She bent a little forward, her hand on the Lieutenant’s shoulder. “But not talking will cost you, and only you,” she said cryptically and smiled at her before moving off towards the bar.

Tasha gave a nervous laugh which grew into a full giggle as Guinan stepped to her usual spot. She met Deanna’s gaze and shook her head. “Between the two of you, I don’t have a chance not talking about things,” she said and sat forward to put her hands around the glass. “I was in my quarters last night…with Data.”

Deanna could see the shift in Tasha’s attitude as well as feel it. There was a flush of something like…embarrassment, confusion, betrayal of self, but also warmth, but it was laced with… She could almost taste…residual arousal and heat…but she usually only felt those emotions when counseling…lovers. Her eyes widened just a bit. “Oh?” She said non-committedly.

Tasha closed her eyes and then sat back against the chair with her arms crossed again. Then she drew in a deep breath and her eyes opened like a shot. “We had sex.” Ah, Deanna thought, Tasha sensed a challenge.

“Sex.”

Her non committal tone spurred Tasha to spout off more quickly, almost angrily. “I don’t remember any of it…well…bits and pieces…”

“Bits and pieces.”

“Images,” Tasha said loudly and then quieted with a glance around the room.

“The bruises?” Deanna asked.

“He forgot his strength after he was infected. Apparently he gripped my hips a…never mind,” Tasha’s voice was quieter; Troi sensed withdraw from the conversation. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Data told you about it, I gather?” Deanna said quietly, looking at her glass. “Did he tell you the intricacies?”

“I wouldn’t let him.”

“You don’t want to know?”

Tasha’s gaze moved to her glass. “You aren’t-“

“Judgemental? Shocked? No. I’m a counselor and a Betazoid. Sex is in my blood,” Deanna laughed. “It is natural.”

“Not where I’m from,” Tasha offered. Deanna studiously lifted her glass to her lips. “Where I was born, sex was either a power play, a way to control someone, to inflict pain.”

“And Data would have done this,” Deanna said. She set the glass down as slowly as she had picked it up. When Tasha didn’t respond quickly, Troi shook her head. “I’m not asking this as a counselor, but as your friend, Tasha. You think he used sex to get power over you, or to control you? Do you think he actively wanted to inflict pain on you? Do you think that Data would ever use having sex…against you?”

After a moment, Tasha gave a small laugh. “No, and Data wouldn’t harm an ant if he could help it.” She sobered. “But he also wouldn’t have initiated…sex… either. That means I did.”

“Yes, that logic is correct,” Deanna nodded. “You have a very healthy sex drive, Tasha, and a sensuous personality. You obviously found Data attractive and indulged in what is a very primal, very basic need that you avoid often and it seems at high cost.”

Tasha swallowed a mouthful of her drink and sighed. “I shouldn’t have indulged in that…need…this time either. Whether I found him attractive nor not is…well…it’s irrelevant.”

“That’s silly, Tasha. Under those circumstances, finding him physically and psychologically attractive to you is primal and innate. But…you still feel that you gave power to someone else. That you involved someone in your existence beyond yourself, and you think that you compromised yourself.”

“Maybe.”

“That’s how you always feel with sex,” Deanna said.

“I know, I know.” Tasha said harshly, almost slapping her glass against the table, then moments later, she said again, softer: “I know.”

Deanna turned her glass to catch some of the lights in a prism. “Let me ask you another question…off topic, only slightly: How exactly did you deal with Data pertaining to this…encounter?”

“I,” Tasha began and then leaned forward on the table. Deanna could feel the resolution in her friend. “I told Data that it never happened.”

Troi shook her head. “Tasha, he might very well erase it from his memory. Will that mean that it never happened…to you? To him?”

“No,” Tasha agreed. “But that means that he won’t mention it again to me. In a way, I’m glad it was him…if it was anybody…I can trust him.” She downed the rest of her drink. “I appreciate that you are trying to address my emotional state. This isn’t anything that distance and time won’t cure. Can we not mention this again?”

“As you wish,” Deanna stressed. “But let me say…not all men are like the rape gangs and controlling fiends you dealt with in the past. I won’t bring this up again, but I’m here if you ever want to talk about ‘what hasn’t happened…’”

“I know…” Tasha said as she rose and then tapped on the table. “I know, Dee. See you tomorrow?”

“For exercise…”

“Definitely.”

Deanna nodded and watched as Tasha moved off quickly and through the doors of Ten Forward. With a knowing smile, she lowered her gaze back to the glass. Those feelings she had from Tasha, the after-glow of the knowledge wasn’t entirely fear or distance or anything…standoffish. It was more… she couldn’t put her finger on it. As she stared at her glass, she allowed herself a moment to think about what they had discussed.

Then with a sigh, she shook her head. It was her duty as a friend and as a counselor to help Tasha if she needed it, but not to interfere. Guinan walked by the table to gather up Tasha’s glass and nodded. Deanna was still getting to know this strange humanoid, but she loved her. “She’ll learn Deanna. Someday. Hopefully,” was all she offered as she moved back through the bar.

All Deanna could do was nod.

**

Greetings (1/1)

2008-11-22T03:58:25Z

Title: Greetings
Characters: ST:TNG Data, Tasha Yar, Worf, Deanna Troi and Picard
Rating: PG on this one
Disclaimer: Hey, I don't own it. It's Paramount. Blame them :D
Author's Note: Eventually, if this works, Data may or may not have an intimate relationship with Tasha. I want to extrapolate on the characters though. This is my first go at ST:TNG. Be gentle please :D

The turbolift door opened swiftly as all turbolift doors on all standard Starfleet ships were standardized to do. There was something infinitely comforting in that state of order. She craved that structure, that organization; she relied on it. She wasn’t sure why, but, as she drew alongside her new friend in the lift, she was quite sure that Deanna Troi would be able to tell her…and would be able to tell her how she was feeling about the whole thing too. But, as with the turbo lift, in the last month, she had grown to expect and…rely…upon the structure of Deanna Troi.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

Tasha Yar felt her lips curve in a wide smile. “Good morning, Counselor.”

“You are looking well this morning,” Deanna shared as she drew alongside Tasha and turned to face the door. “Excited?”

“You’re asking me what I’m feeling?” Tasha teased. For a moment, she was giddy that Deanna, as a Betazoid, hadn’t delved into her feelings. She had been uneasy to be serving with a Betazoid, but Deanna had proven to be extremely respectful of her and her personal feelings. As Deanna lowered her head with a low giggle, Tasha continued. “Of course I’m excited. The creator of the ‘Picard maneuver’? Jean-Luc Picard is a legend. I look forward to serving under him.”

“He personally requested you,” Deanna shared and smiled at Tasha’s nod. “That has to feel thrilling.”

Tasha tilted her head back and smiled at the ceiling. “It is. Bridge!” She ordered the lift. Turning her head slightly, she met Deanna’s bright chocolate gaze dead on. Her hair was plaited this morning and she wore full uniform. The green uniform indicated her status of part of Psych Operations; the two gold and one black buttons on her upper chest showed her rank as Lieutenant Commander. Although she had only known Deanna for a month, she found the woman easy to talk to and warm. “What about our new Chief of Operations?”

“Lieutenant Commander Data?”

Tasha nodded quickly.

“I know that he has been decorated several times for Gallantry and Valor and has a Medal of Honor with clusters.”

“Quite large honors. You know he is a….”

“Sentient android, yes.”

“I’ve heard all about him. I know his rank isn’t honorary. They don’t simply ‘hand out’ the ranks at StarFleet. But…have you seen him?” Tasha said with a nod.

“No. You are curious, Tasha, very.” Deanna stifled a smile against the back of her hand. “But they will be on the Bridge, Tasha. We won’t have to wait long.”

Tasha drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. She rolled her shoulders and straightened her back as the lift began to slow. Immediately, she drew to attention and tilted her head back. She was honored to have been asked to Picard’s command; she had been told he was impressed with her bravery. And this was her first command position. Lieutenant Worf was under her, taking up position as her immediate second as he had been in their last appointment. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

As the door slid open, both she and Troi stepped off the lift and stopped. Picard stood in the middle of the Bridge with his hands behind his back. He was as Yar remembered: proud, commanding in presence. If one looked passed that, if one COULD look passed that, one would see a young man of 50 or so and of medium build and bald wearing the red uniform of command as though it had been made only for him.

With a ‘whoosh’ the door slid shut behind them, and the Captain turned to them. “Welcome aboard,” she and Troi chorused, quietly, professionally and Picard nodded once, curtly.

“Thank you. I have just finished touring the Bridge. Quite a bit larger…these Galaxy class ships are virtual cities in space. Permission to come on board, officers.” He crossed the floor to them. “Lieutenant Yar and Counselor Troi, I trust you are completely briefed?”

“Completely, sir,” Yar answered, drawing to attention. “Intriguing.”

“Have you familiarized yourself with Security?”

“And tactical, sir.”

“Excellent. And Counselor Troi, does Psych Ops fit your specifications?”

“Yes, sir,” Deanna said with a slight nod.

“Very good.” Before conversation could continue, the side door from Turbolift 3 opened. A slender, athletically built man approximately 6 feet in height entered the Bridge with a clipped, sure step. His dark hair was in the standard Starfleet haircut, and he wore the mustard yellow of an Operations Officer. His skin was almost perfect alabaster hue with no blemish.

“Interesting, sir. They have allowed the interface between Operations Control and the Science panels. I should be able to access both at the same time. I do not know why they have not considered this-“

“Commander Data,” Picard interrupted.

“Yes, sir?” He stopped and tilted his head slightly to the side. “Oh, yes, sir…sorry, sir,” he continued and stepped towards the gathered group. “That was rude of me. Greetings.”

Deanna immediately held out her hand to the approaching officer. “Commander Data, I presume?”

“Correctly presumed,” Data responded. “Counselor Troi, I am pleased to meet you.”

“And this is Lt. Natasha Yar, Security Chief, Data.”

The officer tilted his head slightly and trained his gaze on her. His eyes were light gold in color and were wide. He nodded slightly and held out his hand to her. “Lt. Yar, I have studied your personnel file and look forward to working with you. Captain Picard has highly recommended you and your efficiency to me.”

“Likewise, sir,” Tasha said as his warm hand curled over hers. “I’ve never worked with such a highly decorated officer.”

Data raised his eyebrows and lowered his hand. Picard rubbed his hands together. “We will be underway in 1 standard hour for Denab IV.”

“Yes, sir,” Data supplied. “All operations are online and prepared. As soon as our helm officer comes to the bridge and we have a final report from Engineering, we will be ready to go.”

“Then I advise you to use the time to brief Lt. Yar on the changes in Tactical, Mr. Data.”

“I will endeavor to do so, sir.”

Tasha smiled at Deanna as Data turned and held out his hand to offer Tasha to walk ahead of him. “I have the changes and additions catalogued and prepared. With your permission, sir and if you would, Lt. Yar?”

With a curt nod from Picard, she stepped ahead of Data towards the Ready Room.

“You will find that I have indexed all the changes in numerical, alphabetical and chronological order. You may ask for it in any form you find easiest to access and read. I could not anticipate your learning curve with the information in your personnel file.” He passed her and stepped to the control panel. She watched his long slender hands as they danced across the terminal. He stopped, however, before hitting the start button. “Your facial expression indicates you are uncertain about something. Is there a question you have, Lt. Yar?”

Tasha opened her mouth and decided to broach the subject her mind had locked onto since entering the Bridge. “I have read a great deal about you, sir.”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded with what seemed to her to be a resignation. “Then you know that I am an android with a positronic brain.”

She nodded as she stood next to the chair.

“And you are uneasy about working with an android, or indeed, taking orders from one in high risk situations. My rank is-“

“-not honorary, I know, Mr. Data. Starfleet doesn’t often go about handing out decorations either. I’m just-“

“-curious? Yes.” He nodded.

“I wouldn’t have a problem taking an order from any superior officer, sir, including you. May I, sir?”

“Please be seated,” he said. “I am glad to hear that, Lt. Yar. Often I spend, on average, one month and 4 days, convincing my fellow officers that I am capable of my rank and my ability to command. Was that the source of your unease?”

“No.”

“Ah,” Data said as he sat down in the chair opposite of her. “This is your first command level position.”

“It is.”

“You are apprehensive about it?”

“Excited.”

“Ah…” Data repeated. “Interesting. I had not thought that that particular facial expression was indicative of excitement. I will make note of that for the future, Lt. Yar. Thank you.” He tilted his head slightly and nodded. “We should discuss Tactical. The Enterprise has incorporated many new applications to existing weapons…”

**

An hour later, when Tasha thought that her mind would literally explode from the amount of information that Data had provided her, they rejoined the others on the bridge. Immediately, she saw the Look on the Captain’s face. It was the Look that she had seen on several officer’s faces, the one that was a mixture of anticipation and execution of duty. Data passed her and quickly walked across the floor to the Ops station. “You have received orders, Captain.”

“Emergency orders, yes, Mr. Data.”

Tasha passed Data and walked up to the Tactical station. She immediately found information filtering onto the screen. “There has been an…uprising…on Ardia Five.” Quickly, she tapped on the screen and scanned the information. “Massive uprising…there are several thousands involved on each side.”

“What do we know of Ardia Five, Mr. Data?”

Data tilted his head to the side. “Ardia Five is a post warp culture that approximates mid 21st century, post Third World War culture on Earth. They have been in a type of civil war for the past twenty years Federation Standard Time. Recent visits to the colony have reported that the status of its government is near defunct.”

Tasha sighed and nodded. “I had heard that it was similar to where my childhood was spent.”

Data’s eyes moved to her. “Turkana Four.”

“Yes.”

The lift doors opened and allowed in two junior officers to take up the helm and the communications position. Worf joined Tasha at the Tactical position. “Very well. Set in a heading for Ardia Five, helm. Warp 8. Engage.”

**

“Yar, Worf, Data, ready room.”

As before, in her last post, she waited until the stand-by crew of junior officers entered the deck. She logged out with her personal code and waited until her replacement had entered his. Then, quickly, nearly rigid with restraint, she walked down the ramp with Worf following her. They followed in rank and file behind Data.

“An emergency procedure, with a skeleton crew?” Tasha asked as they entered the room proper.

“Poor odds are never a determinant for a Klingon,” Worf commented. Tasha was warmed by the familiar growl in her second in command’s voice. She straightened her back and waited for what she knew was coming. Worf didn’t disappoint. “…sir.”

“Starfleet regulations, 65.789 in particular, state that a skeleton crew on a starship can be used in an emergency situation, particularly rescues, with a planetside issue if space involvement is not warranted. Additionally-“

“Thank you, Data,” Picard offered. He waved his hands towards the seats around the table. “It remains that we are the closest starship and even our skeleton crew is more numerous than most starships have in total. Our orders are to observe, and rescue innocent bystanders. Ardia Five is a Federation Newcomer and we are to help, but not to interfere with their internal politics. Starfleet is sending negotiators and intermediaries; we are to answer the calls for assistance that are not from the military.”

“They say the fighting is contained to the Northern Hemisphere.”

“Yes and we will be transporting there.”

“We don’t have a physician yet.”

“A medical ship will meet us in orbit.”

Data nodded. “We will need to have transport coordinates for the ship’s medical bays in case we need to help beam injured to them.”

Picard smiled a quick, fast smile and nodded once. “Make it so, Mr. Data. We will be expected to only fire if fired upon, am I understood?”

“Understood.” Tasha said with a firm nod.

“Then go and prepare.”

**

As it had been on all the other ships, the ‘Away Team’ assembled in the Transporter room. She adjusted her phaser, tricoder and utility belt that held first aid and survival equipment as she entered the room. Worf had told her he would gather additional firearms, so she expected no one in the room. However, as she turned the corner, she saw a tall, athletic silhouette adjusting his belt. She let her gaze move from his head, down his neck, to the broad shoulders, and down his flank. He was amazingly fit. Her eyes ran over his legs: muscular thighs, long legs. He appeared as a man without an ounce of fat, all muscle.

Lt. Commander Data was a lean, attractive figure, she admitted. And then let the thought go. Quickly. She rested her hand on her phaser as she entered the room. His unblinking gaze looked to her, taking in her stance. His facial expression seemed to not change, but she saw a slight change to the turn of his mouth. She wondered what that meant.

“Lt. Yar?”

“Ready, Commander.”

He nodded as he spied Worf walking around the corner. “I am ranking, but you are Security Chief, Lt. Yar.”

She agreed with a nod. “I understand.” And she did understand, and had savored this moment. This was where she could do well; this is where she could excel. No one knew the job of keeping a team safe as well as she did; Picard knew that; she knew that. She knew, simply from what the Commander had just said, that he knew that as well. THAT was the whole REASON she was Security Chief.

“Let’s go.”

She stood on the transport pad and arranged her pack. As Data took up position on her left and Worf behind her, she heard the Lt. Commander’s sonorous voice. “Bridge, Away Team ready to energize.” He shifted a little. “Energize!”

**

As she solidified on the planet’s surface, she pulled her phaser from her belt and turned around. At the same time, the Commander pulled his tricoder and turned in the opposite direction.

“Life signs and phaser fire…500 meters in this direction,” Data said quickly.

“All phasers set on stun,” Tasha instructed. “Commander, where exactly are we?”

Data adjusted his phaser with a nod and returned to the tricoder. “We are in the Northern Hemisphere near Andria Prime, their capital city. The assistance calls are from this general area.”

“What do we know about the factions fighting?”

Data began to walk towards the life signs as he spoke. “One is referred to as the Federal forces, the other is a Rebellion group called the Adria Freedom Force. The issue appears to be over the right of succession within the government; it is not over human rights. Most of the populace is reported not to have taken allegiance with either side.”

“It is not a warrior’s way to fight with non warriors,” Worf grumbled. “Nor is it to involve non-warriors in a fight.”

“Let’s get these people out of here, then,” Tasha stated. She could hear laser fire and began to jog. “Quickly.”

The run was a short one and ended quite abruptly. A laser cannon blast exploded just in front of her, throwing dirt and rock up and aside. She immediately began to dodge. She rolled to the right and behind the corner of the building. Data and Worf went left and behind rubble on the other side of the alley. “Worf! Don’t return fire! Triangulate!”

Worf had already activated his tricoder as had Data. She pulled out hers as well and edged to the other side of the building. Her tricoder grid recorded the next two shots. After a moment, she edged back to the others. “Data?!” She yelled over the next blast and immediately bit her tongue. Familiarity had not been offered yet.

“The location is near the distress call in this area!” He responded. “The factions appear to be engaged…”

“The end of the fight, possibly!” Worf yelled.

“Or the very beginning!” Data corrected.

“Let’s get the bystanders out!” Tasha shouted over the next volley of laser bolts.

**

The team acted like clockwork. It had been early in the terrestrial day when they had begun the rescue mission. Hourly reports to the Enterprise by Data had elicited the information that the negotiators were working on a cease fire. But, as Tasha pointed out to her fellow officers, cease fires took awhile to trickle through the ranks.

“Agreed,” Data issued. He switched off the communicator. “A continuation of the current mission is warranted until the fighting does cease.” He slowly strode down the alley, following another lifesign reading and assistance beacon.

“Over here,” Worf called. There was a slight hitch, ever so slight hitch, to his voice that Tasha reacted to immediately. She had worked with the young Klingon for two years; she had grown to know that when something caused a reaction in him, it was momentous enough to investigate. In the past time, she had known that, if nothing else, the Klingon wanted to be known as a warrior…and Klingon warriors never asked for help nor indicated weakness. She saw him: his large form braced against a corner building and he appeared…withdrawn. His shoulders were hunched a little, his eyelids heavy over his dark eyes.

That worried her. “Worf?”

As she approached, she saw that Data had arrived at the juncture before her. He looked around the corner, but before he could do or say anything, she joined him.

She could see the group of men around the woman and the girl-child. And suddenly….

She was twelve and hiding from the rape gangs…the old woman was growing ill, there wasn’t enough food…she couldn’t run…it was cold…and then…they found her… she remembered the pain, the anger, the helplessness…the…helplessness.

Is this what it looked like?

Cold knobby legs held wide around a waist, the man was huge, the woman small…she felt blinding anger as she heard a simple, plaintive cry: “No!”

Tasha sprinted into the area. All she could see, hear was her past in the screams of the woman and the girl-child. Her phaser was out and pointed at the group within a second. The men, eleven in all, turned from watching the rape and charged her. Her past rocketed at her: the dark alley was her ‘home’ from childhood; the men were all men that had run at her. Once she might have feared them, but now: now, she could DO something. It felt clinically cold, the way she quickly lifted the phaser and fired: cold, hard, clinical fury. Her first shot immobilized the nearest man. But two grabbed her before another shot could be fired.

Near her, she heard Worf growl as he leapt into the foray. There was no sound from the Commander, but she saw the man nearest her leave the ground as if grabbed. She threw the one holding her over her shoulder. She spied Worf holding two men by the scruffs of their necks. Data, however, was not holding men. He was…tossing…them. One handed. Although he had not used his phaser, he was still incapacitating any that attempted to…

She yelled as another man attempted to grab her, and, with a shout, threw him over her shoulder. A sound punch to his solar plex, immobilized him without injuring him. Worf stunned his two last targets and Data glanced around as he held the last man nearly horizontal over his head.

“Lieutenant?” He asked, not the least bit out of breath.

“Situation under control,” she panted.

Data turned his gaze up to the man he held. He lifted an eyebrow and then lowered the man to the ground.

“What the ‘ell is this thing? ‘e ain’t no human!”

With a sigh, Data set the man down. “I’m an android, sir.”

“Bloody ‘ell!” The man yelled and turned to hit Data. The Commander ducked, although Tasha was quite sure that he would have broken his hand had he made contact. Data righted as the man was unbalanced from the thrown punch and clamped his hand down on the assailant’s shoulder. Tasha watched as the man’s face crumpled in a confused look: slightly crossed eyes and a weakening of his knees. Within a second, he soundlessly fell to the ground.

Tasha turned quickly and ran across the small alleyway to the girl and woman. She kept the woman down with a gentle hand. Data followed, his tricoder already out and primed to human. He knelt on the other side of the woman. “It’s okay,” Tasha whispered to the woman and to the girl. “We’re here to help.”

Data lifted an eyebrow and looked at her over their patients. Then, he returned his gaze to the woman. Tasha smiled gently. “What is your name? I’m Tasha.”

“Tia.” The girl said. She petted the woman’s shoulder. “Jine.”

“They are undernourished,” Data informed quietly. “Some muscle deterioration, slight dehydration. And…Jine has some internal trauma reminiscent of rape,” he confirmed.

Tasha swallowed and nodded slightly. Then she smiled slightly at the woman. “If you wish it, we can evacuate you from here.”

Jine nodded. There were tears in her eyes. Tasha smiled sadly and patted her shoulder. As she stood, Data tapped his comlink. “Two to beam to the Hope,” he instructed. He tapped buttons on the tricoder. “Specifications being sent.”

“Aye, Commander.”

The girl and woman disappeared slowly in transporter shimmer. Tasha took a deep breath, but stopped when she saw Worf frowning. “Worf?”

Data stopped their conversation with a glance around them. “Lieutenants, I do not believe this is the best place to have this conversation. Although I do not anticipate that it would be troublesome to re-subdue them, but…” He tucked his tricoder away. “We should not have engaged them in such an intense manner.”

Tasha drew in a deep breath and stood at attention. Data continued before she could say anything. “However, given the impending possibility for sustained injury to a victim of a crime, I believe we can say that we acted appropriately. I will have to make a report to the Captain.” Tasha closed her mouth and stared at him as he looked around at the men in various stages of consciousness around them. “We will have to ask them if they choose to evacuate as well.”

Worf growled. “They will be evacuated to the brig.”

Data agreed, his facial expression one of mild (very mild) interest. Tasha joined him in the center of the men. As the Commander passed her, Worf stepped to her side. “Lieutenant Yar,” he began, his voice low.

“Oh, I know, Worf,” she answered, equally quietly. “Don’t remind me, okay? I know. We’ve discussed this previously.”

“You could order me not to…”

“I could, but I know you. You would follow the order…to a point…and then we’d have this conversation again.”

Data joined them, his left eyebrow cocked over his eye in what Tasha thought was an outstanding approximation of thoughtful concentration. “Lieutenant Yar, would you like to do, as they say, ‘the honors’? Our assailants are awaking. They should be given the option to evacuate and, that if they take the option, their destination will be our brig.”

Tasha smiled widely at the Commander and his lips quirked at their right corner. “I would take great pleasure in that, thank you, Commander.”

**

After several hours, they stopped for food. They found a small hovel that seemed to be, as Data informed: “Of sufficient distance from the fighting to afford a safe place to stop for just a few minutes”.

She sat down quickly and caught the food packet that Data tossed her. Worf glanced at the food and growled, retreating to the entrance of the hovel. The Commanders pale gold eyes, just visible in the failing daylight, followed the Klingon’s movement. “Is there something wrong with the food stores?”

“No, Commander, that’s just Worf. He’ll say that he doesn’t enjoy Earth food. He often does that on away missions.”

“Ah…” Data stopped and nodded once as if deciding something. “I understand. It has something to do with Klingon-“

“It has everything to do with Worf,” Tasha said quickly. She looked down at the container and sighed. “I can’t say I blame him…food rations aren’t the best. And, Commander…please…call me Tasha…it’s quicker than Lieutenant Yar if we’re under attack.”

Data gave a slight tilted smile. “Then, please return the favor, Lieu-“ He frowned. “Tasha. Call me Data.”

Tasha nodded. “Thank you.”

She bent to bite into her ration, but stopped before she could fill her mouth. Data was looking at her intently. Tasha had never been under scrutiny while eating previously and there was a pang of not so welcome self-awareness that made her lower the food from her mouth. “Tasha?”

“What, Data?”

“You mentioned that you were born on Turkana Four. I have learned that that colony was what is known as failed colony.” He blinked several times. “There was a complete disintegration of government, I believe.”

“That’s an understatement.” Tasha grumbled.

“I, too, was from a failed colony.” Data shared. He looked at his rations and shut his pack. “You did not react when I called your name just prior to our sustained contact with the men. It was our orders not to provoke or to do engage in aggressive tactics and to take civilians off planet.”

It was a quick statement, said with a level of innocence, and the raised hackles at the pointed remark were lessened. Her gaze flew to his and she swallowed hard on the food in her mouth. Data continued as she struggled to get in a breath. “I understand that you were quite involved in the situation and I have noted that humans, although they do hear all that is presented, do not process it all. It seems that the process is interrupted in direct proportion to how involved the person is in the situation at the time.”

“True,” Tasha answered. The hackles were still there, with it anger, and she ground out: “They needed our help! We couldn’t not help!” She stopped and noticed that Data had tilted his head to the side. “StarFleet saved me from my childhood where things like that always happened: Rapes and pain and being scared. I have to help people when I see things like that happening!”

Data’s gaze moved back and forth, as if scanning the middle distance for the answer to the Universe, and then he stilled. “Ah.”

“Ah? Ah, what?”

“You were, as they say, ‘reliving your past’.”

Tasha swallowed hard. It was apparent that Data had just stumbled upon something he hadn’t considered prior to right that moment. He centered his gaze on her and, although she was still angry, she found her answer to be somewhat calmer. “Yes. Yes, I was. Quite vividly.”

Data nodded. Tasha felt that couldn’t be left alone. Almost accusingly, she asked: “Don’t you ever relive your memories?”

“Reliving something implies an emotional component. Humans relive the ‘heat of the moment’, I believe. I have no emotions and therefore cannot…relive the emotions inherently involved in a situation, a day, a moment. I can replay any instance at any point in my existance.” Data shared. “However, I cannot relive what made that moment so poignant.” He blinked several times. “Therefore, I cannot become as engrossed in a memory as you, or any other human would.”

Tasha shook her head with a sigh. “That’s a damn good thing to have. You’d never be…” She searched for a word.

“Vulnerable?” Data offered, with a slight nod and an arch of his eyebrows. She reluctantly agreed with his wording.

“Vulnerable to being crippled by emotion when you can least allow it,” Tasha continued, leaning forward to look intently at him. “You wouldn’t be open to that weakness. Do you know how…great this would be…in a fight? In a stressful situation?”

“You view engaging in memories which have intense emotion tied to them…a liability?” Data gave a small ‘consent’ to the conversation is all she could say: his mouth curved gently on the left side.

“It is when you point out orders….Commander!” Tasha pressed, suddenly angry again. She suddenly was wary.

“In answer to your first point…Lieutenant…” he said hesitantly. “I would gladly give up my ability to be free from vulnerability to feel. And, in relation to your second point…StarFleet regulation 175 mark 345 paragraph 5 states that excessive force may be used during an evacuation of a proto-Federation planet so long as the Prime Directive is not compromised. It is my command opinion that you have not…violated…this regulation. Most of the assailants were incapacitated by brute force, not technology…”

“However, Lieutenant, we will refrain from further...interactions...of that sort on this mission. And we will make the proper report to the Captain. My ascertainment to the Captain will be as I stated to you. There will be no deviation. What he says, however..."

“For saving a woman from harm?!”

Data’s head tilted the other way. “I agree that there was excessive danger to an innocent bystander and my report will contain that information.”

“I did what I felt was right as Security Chief.”

“It is your primary purpose to ensure the safety of the Captain, senior officers, the Away Team, if you are stationed on it, and to preserve life when applicable and when your primary purpose is not compromised. My purpose,” he intoned and Tasha found she was calmed a little by his gentle, deep voice. “My purpose is to ensure that the team upholds all StarFleet regulations secondarily and the Prime Directive…primarily. It is my suggestion, Lieutenant, that we interact more to ensure that both purposes are upheld.” His eyes blinked. “It would ensure a more efficient interaction and team. As a Commander, I would strongly advise it. You should consult me, or Commander Riker as you would Captain Picard before major decisions.”

“Are you questioning my ability as Security Chief?” Tasha asked. She looked down at the food which was now in crumbs from her grip. She put down the rest of her rations.

“No, I am not. I simply state a fact.” Data said with a gentle lilt. “What you did ensured the safety of the masses without any major violation. However-“

Tasha smiled suddenly and looked to the sky. “I should think, and confer, before I act.”

Data nodded firmly. “Yes.”

Tasha swallowed her argument and took a deep breath. Data bent to pick up her dropped food and she realized, in the course of the discussion, she had stopped eating. He looked interestingly at the food. “We will have to continue with the mission. We are to be relieved at 1800 standard.” He stood slowly and extended his hand to her. “Tasha?”

She wiped her hand on her trouser leg and let him pull her to stand. She studied his face and saw the calm, easy visage that she had grown to associate with him in the short time she knew him. “Damn…” she said quietly.

“Pardon?” He pressed as they exited the hovel and into the evening air that was still ripe with the smell of burnt material and ozone from the laser bursts. The fighting seemed to have moved off from their location and the sounds of fire were less frequent.

She smiled and looked at him sideways. “Hell of a way to make an impression with a command officer.”

Data stopped and his eyes flicked one way then another. “Ah. I believe you have made a more than adequate impression, Tasha. I find you efficient and dedicated to your job.”

Tasha smiled suddenly, an impish humor bubbling to the surface. “Efficient and dedicated, I like that.”

**

The return to the Enterprise was done at 1800 hours to be replaced with the second team. As they materialized on the pad, Tasha drew a deep breath and supressed the need to smile. They had evacuated 250 people and had succeeded in supporting the cease fire. She looked over at Worf with a wolfish sudden grin. “Worf?”

Worf sighed and rolled his eyes in the manner that Tasha found endearing. She nodded once and Worf sighed again, his gaze diverting to the corridor. At that, she said: “Come on, Worf…it’s our thing.”

Data had continued off of the pad to Miles O’Brien. The transporter chief smiled at his approach. “Mr. Data! Welcome back aboard.”

“Thank you,” Data responded quickly. “Has the Captain-“

“He wishes you all to debrief with him, on the bridge,” the Lieutenant responded.

“Thank you again.” Data turned and glanced at Tasha and Worf. “Lieutenants?”

Tasha nodded and joined her two other officers are they marched down the hall. She fell into step between the two taller officers and marveled at how fast and clipped their normal stride was. As they entered the turbo-lift, she readdressed Worf with a vengeance. “Worf…”

After a moment, the Klingon shifted and nodded. “Very well,” he grumbled.

“Only one drink, Worf,” Tasha laughed. “You make it sound like a chore.”

“Drink?” Data asked quickly. “Do you require refreshment?”

“Alcohol,” Worf grumbled. He shot a glance at Tasha who studiously stared frontwards. “Lieutenant Yar and I have…engaged…in a ritualistic form of superstition…”

“Intriguing. Superstition involving alcohol?” Data asked.

“Every time we have a successful mission and our shifts allow it, Worf and I grab a drink. It’s good luck for us.” Tasha said with a measure of happiness. “So far, on our last two assignments, it’s served us well. So, Worf…” she continued looking up at the tall Klingon. “We’ll be off duty after our check-in.”

“Very well,” the Klingon growled.

Tasha glanced over at Data and turned her head slightly, to train her gaze on him. After a second, she tapped Worf on his arm. “Should we ask him?”

“Do androids drink?” Worf kicked out without thought. Then…”No offense, sir.”

“I am not offended.” Data responded with the same easy calm tone he had used throughout all of his interactions with them all day. “And yes, androids can drink any variety of beverages.”

“Then come out with us, Commander,” Tasha said. “And I’ll see if Deanna can join us as well.”

“I will be off duty after our report,” Data replied. “Thank you.”

“So that means you’ll join us?” Tasha pressed.

Data gave a crisp nod and Worf hummed under his breath as the lift slowed. “This will prove…” Worf said under his breath. He seemed to taste the next word before he uttered it: “Interesting.”

**

Ten Forward was a large room in the front of the saucer section of the ship, on the Tenth deck. It afforded an excellent, almost dreamy visage of the starfield. Tasha smiled at Guinan and gathered up the glasses from the main bar. The room was mostly empty as there were few crew members on the Enterprise. They wouldn’t have a full complement of crew until Dentab IV. There were plenty of tables to choose from and Tasha found one in the very front of the room under the large window.

“Commander Data is joining us?” Deanna asked.

“He is coming with Worf,” Tasha said quickly.

Deanna nodded as she glanced over the room. “I sense anticipation and excitement from him.”

Tasha was surprised at that. She leaned forward on the table, almost excited. “Data has emotions?”

Deanna laughed. Her nearly black eyes were sparkling with mirth. “No, at least he doesn’t have them like you and I do. Nothing I can ‘sense’. However, when we left the bridge at the end of shift, he was speaking rather quickly and said how intrigued he was with the idea of ‘socializing in this manner’ at least three times.”

“Ah,” Tasha laughed.
The door swished opened to reveal the large bulk of Worf and the slighter, slim form of Data. Tasha could see the tension in Worf’s shoulders and knew, through the instinct of working with the Klingon for the past two years, that he was…perturbed…by the Commander, but was restraining from saying anything.

Deanna smiled widely when Data approached the table with a lengthy stride. “Good evening, Counselor Troi, Lieu- Tasha.”

Both women smiled. Data bowed his head slightly. “I believe it is customary for the male to gather the liquid refreshments, once particular decisions are made as to menu selections. Is there a specific drink you would like?”

Deanna smiled her ‘I’m the Ship’s Counselor and I could win you over in my sleep’ grin and nodded slightly. “I would like a Grenab Mixer, Mr. Data.”

Data nodded. When his gold eyes trained on Tasha, he opened his mouth to repeat his request. Instead of answering him, she rose. “I’ll go with you, Data.” He nodded once and turned to walk away, although Tasha could tell from the slight tilt of his head he was confused. She patted Worf on the arm as she passed him. “At ease, Lieutenant,” she joked.

She strolled behind the Commander to the bar. When she joined him, he was ordering Deanna’s drink. Tasha ordered the Klingon brandy that she and Worf would be drinking. As the orders were delivered to them, she asked: “So, Mr. Data, what’s your poison?”

“Poison?”

“Drink. What would you like to drink, Data?”

“I do not know,” Data answered with typical honesty. “I have never sampled alcoholic beverages.”

Tasha looked at him thoughtfully and then asked Guinan: “What kind of man does Commander Data look like to you, Guinan?”

Guinan’s midnight eyes appraised the Lieutenant Commander. The android’s response made Tasha smother a smile. He, for all the world, looked mildly affronted and yet intrigued. After a moment, the wise bartender smiled gently and held up a finger. “I have something I think he might like to try. I’ll be right back.”

Tasha’s eyebrow crept up into her hairline as she saw Guinan reaching for the Whiskey. She poured a shot and a half and gave it to Data with a smile. “Enjoy.”

“I thank you,” Data said, with only a millisecond of hesitation. His attention was clearly on the liquid. He was quiet as he followed Tasha back to the table. His silence continued as he took his seat at the table. Tasha poured from the bottle for her and Worf as Deanna took up her glass. Worf held up his glass and called out in Klingon. Data frowned and held his glass up to clink it with the others. Worf tilted back his head and downed his shot. Tasha followed suit and Deanna sipped her mixed drink.

Data’s gaze flicked from one to another of his fellow officers. Tasha smiled into her glass as she watched him finally return his stare back to the liquid in his glass. He slowly inhaled. “I smell the aged wood, and prolonged distillation techniques.”

“You are supposed to drink it, sir,” Worf grumbled as he reached to pour Tasha and him another glass. “Not analyze it.”

“And does one…” Data watched Worf throw back another shot with raised eyebrows. He frowned. “Does one drink this whiskey as you drink yours, or as Counselor Troi does?”

Worf poured himself another shot. Tasha lowered her glass from her lips. “You down a shot in one swallow, Data.” He tilted his head to the side with a thoughtful frown. Tasha nodded to drive her point home. The shot disappeared between his pale lips. After a moment, he pouted a slight frown.

“Interesting.”

“Did you like it?” Deanna asked.

“I find it containing mixtures of tastes that are not unpleasant, but it has no nutritional value. In fact, I find the alcohol strength would cause a humanoid male to become intoxicated after four drinks of equal volume.”

“Or less,” Deanna replied. She sat back, holding her drink.

Data’s face lessened in his thoughtful scowl to an easy neutral glance. “And this is a celebration of a successful mission. I am intrigued. I did not realize that this was an accepted human response to completion of duty.”

“Data…” Tasha began, her voice slightly raised. She shook her head slowly, met Deanna’s glance for a moment. You’ve never gone out drinking with friends?” Tasha asked as she began to sip her second drink. Worf downed his fourth.

His mouth opened, hesitated, and then shut slowly. “No.”

Deanna looked at Tasha over the edge of her glass.

**

Worf had left Ten Forward and Deanna left as well. On her way out, she met Tasha at the bar. The Security Chief was getting coffee. Data had finally ordered a second whiskey; he apparently wanted to analyze the taste more. “Regardless of feelings,” Deanna commented quietly as she stood at Tasha’s shoulder. “There was more to his comment about drinking with friends, Tasha. You were going to stay to finish your coffee, and he apparently isn’t going anywhere quickly. You should talk to him.”

Tasha grasped the coffee mug in her hand and reveled in the warm feeling. “Deanna…you are the empath.”

“And you are the only one to whom he has extended the right to call him by his name,” Deanna responded smartly.

“That was recip-“

“How is irrelevant in the scheme of things, Tasha; the matter remains that he has extended an olive branch of trust in that he DID do it.” Deanna looked back at Data, who sat in silhouette against the stars. He was staring down into the glass as though it held a mystery to him.

Tasha frowned as Deanna patted her arm one more time and left through the door. Then, with a sigh, she returned to the table.

“This is very interesting, Tasha,” he said in his easy calm voice. “The taste of this second glass is slightly different than the first. I have been able to categorize 14 distinctly different chemical compounds.”

She nearly laughed as she sat down in the chair opposite him. “It’s the ambiance of the drink, Data.”

“I would like to analyze this compound at Science 1,” Data said, with almost a sense of wonder. “But I do not think a beverage of this sort is allowable on the bridge. However, I might be able to reconfigure the tricoder-“ He took another sip of the drink.

“Or you could just come out with us after missions, Data,” Tasha pressed. “There will be a lot of other drinks to try and analyze.” Not the type of person to beat around the bush, and obviously curious, Tasha took a sip of her coffee and set the mug down. “I’m actually surprised that you never went out drinking in the Academy. I had heard that your class was a bit rowdy.”

Data frowned and then gave a sort of self-depreciating shrug. “I did not socialize much with others in my class.”

“I didn’t either, you know. I know Worf certainly didn’t.” Tasha said.

Confused, the officer frowned. “You did not interact with your classmates?”

“No, not really,” Tasha said quietly. “I really didn’t fit in. I was 18, but only about 3 years human if you know what I mean. I really had to work hard to get into the Academy, but it was all I ever wanted.”

Data’s eyes flicked to the side. “You had an exemplary Academy record. High grades in most subjects, accelerated physical program which granted you high honors in Security Tactics and Tactical navigation and weapons. Additionally, you were junior officer Security Officer on your last assignment. Decorated with the Silver Cross prior to graduation for outstanding bravery in the face of high odds, you were only the second person to ever receive that honor at your age.” He stopped. And with a mildly confused visage, asked: “You had to work hard to get into the Academy?”

“Well, of course, Data!” She said, only mildly raising her voice. “I came from Turkana Four at fifteen. I could barely speak Standard in sentence form. Sure, I could fight. But I didn’t have any…ability…to interact with anyone.”

Data set his glass down and nodded. “I see. You and I had similar problems with interaction. I had only attained Sentience two years prior to entering the Academy. I had to apply twice. Although I was able to pass all of the entrance exams with perfect scores, I was…at first…unable to convince the entrance board of my sentience. On the second attempt, I was voted in by one vote.” He took a deep breath. “It was iterated that it would only take another vote to remove me from the Academy. I thought it in my best interest to remain vigilant. Most of my time was spent improving my usefulness.”

“If that was the case, why did you go into the Academy? Into Starfleet?”

“It was the only place I could execute to my full potential.” Data shared. “And Starfleet had…rescued…me.”

“The same with me,” Tasha said with emotion. She leaned forward on the table and held her hands wide. “Starfleet rescued me from that hell I grew up in. I wanted to be in it.” She seemed almost overcome with emotion and then settled down. “I needed to be in it.”

Data seemed intrigued by her emotional outburst. “Your reason to join StarFleet was emotional in nature.”

Tasha nodded firmly. “I knew it was the only place I could be.”

“Mine was logical, but elicited the same outcome.” He gave a thoughtful pout.

“Worf will tell you he ended up in StarFleet because it was the only place he could be a warrior. Deanna is here because she…” Tasha smiled. “She HELPS people. And she can do that here. And to honor her father. We’re all here for our own reasons. For me, for Worf, StarFleet is our family. For Deanna, it’s the memory of her father.” She laughed and sat back in the chair. “We support each other.”

“As a good command team should be,” Data commented.

“You’ll come out for drinks again, Data?”

“The interaction intrigues me,” he admitted. “I will attend when asked, Tasha. Thank you for inviting me, Lieutenant.”

“Any time, Commander,” she responded. She reached for her mug to finish the last of her now lukewarm coffee as Data grabbed his whiskey. As she downed hers, he threw back his like a pro. She stood and extended her hand to him. He grasped it and she was amazed at how warm he was. The firm shake was as she expected. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander Data. I look forward to serving with you.”

For a moment, she almost expected a smile. There was a quirking at the left side of his lips that was indicative of a grin but it wavered and died before it could fully bloom. Still, his facial expression was easy and showed gentleness. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Lieutenant Tasha Yar. I expect we will serve well together.”

They turned together to leave Ten Forward, their steps in tandem.

Zephyr: Rated R/ Tegan/Five

2008-01-11T19:03:02Z

This is a continuation of Drops. This time, it's the Doc in the bath.

Rating: R
Disclaimer: All BBC, no me. How sad is that?

The late summer breeze blew across the pane and into the room. The curtains swept across the wood and then danced in the rushing wind. Although it was fairly late in the day, the breeze was warm and reminded of lazy days and childhood evenings spent looking for the Fae. She could almost taste her grandmother’s lemonade on her tongue, the memory of sour pursing her lips as she stood in the room.

“You look…relaxed.”

Nyssa’s lilting voice broke her reverie. Tegan turned from the window and smiled at her friend. The girl’s costume matched her personality perfectly, she thought. Nyssa’s chestnut curly locks bounced as the girl crossed the floor to stare out at the patio. Tegan counted forty-five party-goers, all in costumes.

“I am,” Tegan happily said with a nod. “I am, Nys. I wouldn’t think so, but I am. This is room is very like my bedroom at my grand’s house in England…albeit a bit bigger,” she laughed. “And, well…no one’s shooting at us, are they? And both Adric and the Doc are acting…well…happy. I love parties, too, that helps.”

Nyssa turned from the window and smiled as the breeze blew her curls about her face. “You know this time well, Tegan?”

“Not at all; well, not very well, that is,” Tegan replied with a smile. She sighed and fluffed her skirt a little. “My grandfather and grandmama used to tell me about the roaring twenties and having a hoot during it all. But they never told me how to act at the gentry’s house. That’s eternal.”

“Gentry?” Nyssa asked as she turned towards the door.

Tegan heartily laughed. “The Cranleigh’s,” she explained. “They’re considered gentry. Like a royal court, I suppose. That’s the closest I can describe.” They slipped out the door together and it closed. Together they moved down the hallway, light on their feet. Tegan felt lighter hearted. Downstairs, the music sounded a merry dance and she found her steps drilling out a rhythm as she descended the stairs.

She was the happiest she had been in the past three months. Although she had finally admitted that she wanted to travel on the TARDIS, to see all that the Universe had to offer, she hadn’t been…carefree. After all, it was hard to be easy when some alien was shooting, torturing or generally trying to cause massive problems with them. But lately there had been some fun stops and this particular one was fun and easy. Imagine! She was going to a summer gala with a landed family in England during the roaring twenties!

“The ‘gentry’ as you put it, Tegan, isn’t very hard to act around really. Just defer to someone of higher rank in the room and smile and have a great time.” Nyssa’s voice was very know-it-all and Tegan realized that it came from knowledge. Her friend smiled widely over her shoulder and confirmed Tegan’s thought in the next sentence. “I had to deal with it quite often in my father’s house.”

“Well, my girl,” Tegan laughed. “If I have a problem, I’ll give you a glance.”

“You’ll do fine,” Nyssa shared and embraced her on the landing. “Just remember to wear your mask…”

“Rabbits!”

“What?!” Nyssa stopped on the steps below her and glanced back at her. “What is it, Tegan?”

“I’ve forgotten my bloody mask!” Tegan laughed. “I’ll go back and get it. See you out on the veranda.” She turned on her heel and ran back up the steps. Her skirt brushed the back of her knees, tickling in it’s gentle caress. She could hear Nys making her way down and out through the foyer as she entered the bedroom corridor.

“Was it the third or fourth door,” she whispered. With a shrug, she opened up the third door and entered.

It was immediately obvious that it wasn’t her given bedroom. On the bed was a harlequin costume, and next to it, a properly folded jumper and trousers. Over one of the chairs, a very familiar fawn coat was neatly laid. And, on the floor near the bed, a pair of white trainers sat as if waiting for their owner. Finally, there was a white button shirt with red question marks hung on the door hook.

She didn’t leave. From in the adjoining room, she heard a strong baritone voice singing. The song was strange, definitely an oldie, and she didn’t know the words. Obviously, however, the Doctor knew it quite well.

She drew close to the door of the bathroom and glanced inside. Her Auntie V had always told her:

“You’re too curious for your own good, Tegan-girl.” Curious, yes, she agreed, but in her defense, she hadn’t ever heard the Doctor sing and he sounded happy. That, in and of itself, was more than enough impetus to investigate. After all, that bloody Time Lord was never happy, was he?

The song grew louder as she stepped to the cracked door. The melody was chirpy; the words were quick and had a hidden wit to them. Something about a man courting a woman…some of the words had double meaning. It was an...interesting song.

In the mirror, she saw the Doctor. He was facing away from the mirror and was bent over the tub. There was a plaintive squeak of metal turning and the water began to lustfully fill the basin. She couldn’t see the tub, just the Doctor, and she found she didn’t want to look elsewhere….

He was completely and wonderfully naked. His skin wasn’t entirely white; it was more bronze than anything else and his body was more athletically muscular than slim. His blond hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck as it gently curved to his shoulders. His broad shoulders tensed as he bent forward; the arms were long and toned and ended in hands with long, athletic fingers that moved out of her vision. She could hear the hands move through the water. As he tested the water under the spigot, she gazed at his back and hips as he straightened and then sighed.

Impishly, she smiled as she gazed at his buttocks and thighs. Her eyebrows quirked in interest as his muscles flexed and pulled under his firm skin. He was magnificently athletic, she determined; not too muscular, not too thin. He was just right for his body form. Bloody shame, she suddenly and grouchily thought. All that wonderfully toned and seemingly strong body… and no one to watch it. He wasn’t interested in anything associated with sex or humans. She decided that, with the thought in mind, she could admire and keep a…

He turned.

…distance… oh my, Tegan thought as she bit her lip. His thighs were more muscular in front than from behind. Slim ankles, shaped calves and chiseled knees transitioned well to his toned, slightly bulging thighs. His hips were narrow and his waist was slim.

She need never guess that he was male, either, she thought wryly. Between his legs, a nicely thick soft shaft lay down the contours of one thigh. She closed her eyes as an embarrassing thrill went through her and sighed as quietly as she could. Then she blinked her eyes open in curiosity to see that his cock was accompanied by properly proportioned balls. She forced her gaze back to his waist. She watched the gentle roll of his hips as he walked from one side of the bathroom to another. His chest, she thought, wasn’t overly muscular, but fit his body build perfectly and was practically hairless, except for the thin line of hair that traveled from his navel downward.

All in all, he was beautiful to watch. She wondered what he did find attractive; if humans weren’t his cuppa. He was so like a human; he was very like an athletic, finely toned, 30 year old male and she appreciated that. She drew in a long breath and held it as he came closer to the door to retrieve his towel, to finish preparing for his bath. She could hear the pad of his feet on the tile and siddled back from the door. He was alien.

“Tegan.”

She jumped at the Doctor’s voice. She turned from the door to run for the corridor. The bathroom door opened fully before she could escape. The Doctor stood in the bathroom doorway a towel wrapped about his waist. Tegan’s hand couldn’t twist the door handle quick enough. “Tegan, what are you doing?”

“I...this isn’t my room…” she began. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him in the bedroom behind her. His eyebrow was quirked over his right eye. She gave up trying to twist the stubborn old door handle and turned to face him.

“Obviously,” he drew dryly. He tucked the towel tighter at his waist. “The clothes on the bed weren’t your first clue?”

“You were singing.”

“You…” he drew quietly. His voice was quiet, but she knew the undertone – he was quite angry, “ … were spying.”

“Hell’s teeth!”

“Spying, Tegan,” he concluded. His arms crossed over his chest.

Two could play that game, she viciously thought. In anger, Tegan took two steps towards him. “Like you aren’t guilty of curiosity, I suppose?”

“I won’t argue that my scientific interest is piqued by our situations,” he responded. “But it remains that I would like to bathe… alone. “

“Scientific…” she said.

The Doctor rolled his eyes slightly and came across the room with measured steps. Tegan adjusted her stance. There was something about the way that he was walking that was primitive. Maybe it was his skin, maybe it was the fact that his muscles rippled, tensed and moved as he walked, but she felt that she wasn’t looking at a Time Lord. He seemed more…and… less.

He wasn’t human and that thought gave her temper its needed nudge.

“Scientific curiosity, of course,” she nearly spat.

“What?” He looked confused: his eyes widened slightly and he slightly shook his head. Tegan exploited his lapse and turned to retreat across the room. He didn’t need to follow; his voice slowed her. “Tegan, what are you talking about?”

She turned and glanced back at him: half hiding behind the now open door, using the distance between them to look at his whole body again. The white towel hugged his hips, dipping low in the front. At this distance, she could see the thin line of hair from his navel that disappeared behind the towel where the knot pressed against his abdomen. Her gaze moved down to his bare feet and back up to the knot and finally to his broad shoulders. “Even we companions are scientific experiments, aren’t we?”

“Tegan-“

She turned and walked out the door quickly, letting it close instead of slam. In the corridor, she took a deep breath and patted the air with her hands.

“I was right,” she said with a nod. “Could be starkers around him and it would be viewed as a sociology or… biology…experiment.” It certainly would be easier to handle if he didn’t look just like a human man, a tall, well built, well endowed human man. She felt the prickling of heat in her belly and knew that she was going to think about his body that night. For a moment, she wondered what his chest would feel like as he held her…or what it would feel like to have his hardening cock pressing against her hip-

She pressed her fingers to the front of her brow. She had stopped in front of her and Nyssa’s bedroom and realized she needed her mask. “Biology experiment… and he’s a friend…”

Tegan found she was repeating those words in her mind as she grabbed her costume piece and retreated down the steps in search of her friend. Anything to keep her from thinking of the mental image of the Doctor naked… reclining in a tub…

Drops (Rated R): Pairing (Tegan/Five)

2008-01-06T02:27:29Z

“Adric?”

The boy stood in muck near the edge of the pool. He had warned him not to venture into the water, no matter how inviting, cool and still it looked. But, no matter how many times nor how earnest the Doctor had been in his warnings, there he was. And he wasn’t paying attention now. Adric’s brown eyes were transfixed in front of him. In fact he was so mesmerized that he wasn’t aware that the murky water seeped into his shoes.

He was so still. The boy usually fidgeted; yet here he stood, almost not breathing. The reeds rippled over the still pool; his hair ruffled, but he didn’t blink. For a moment, the Doctor thought that he was rooted by wildlife: was he being stalked? Hunted?

“Adric,” he hissed again. This time, the boy turned his head to face him. His mouth was slack, his lips open and his eyes wide in…interest. Yes, interest, the Doctor thought, and possibly shock, but not fear. He relaxed slightly. “Adric, I thought I told you-“

“Shhh,” Adric urged. The Doctor huffed and whisked his hat off his head. Of all the insolent things! He opened his mouth again to reprimand Adric for his poor manners and lack of proper respect when he heard humming. He had left Nyssa sleeping on the bank, just barely a quarter of a mile away. He searched for his other two errant companions and it was obvious that Adric wasn’t humming. The only other possibility was –

“Tegan,” the Doctor grunted. Adric swallowed and nodded. Then his gaze swung back around to the front of him. The Doctor stepped up next to the lad to order him back to the camp when he saw exactly what had Adric so staid.

Tegan stood in a small annex pool to the main pond where a waterfall fed the pool. She was half submerged under the gentle waterfall and was completely naked. As they watched, she tilted her head back and the water washed over her face and hair. He heard her humming softly, barely audible over the breeze. The Doctor frowned. Of all the silly things for the girl to do, taking a shower near a pool with Rassilon knew what living in it was towards the top of the list in danger.

She put her hands up in the falling water and then swept the sparkling droplets over her short auburn locks. The movement made her back arch slightly and her buttocks tighten. One shapely thigh slid in front of the other one. He had to admit that she was a prime example of feminine magnificence. From where they stood, the Doctor could see a hint of her full breasts, her slim waist, and the slight flare of her hips that curved gently to the roundness of her buttocks. Her thighs and calves were sleek. All of her skin glistened with fallen drops and the brightness of a near full moon; she was all silver and diamonds if one squinted, he supposed.

He came back to his mind and sternly tapped Adric on the shoulder. “Adric, you shouldn’t be here,” he whispered. “It isn’t safe.”

“I followed Tegan when she wandered off,” Adric defended. “She-“

“Yes…she’s being foolish,” the Doctor hissed. “Go back to the camp.”

“But-“

“Go back to the camp,” the Doctor reiterated his voice just a little harder. “And stay there with Nyssa.”

“But what about Tegan?”

“I’ll round her up, and I would prefer to only have to do so with one companion instead of two,” the Doctor intoned. “After all, I can only be in one place at one time…well at the moment, anyway.” He sighed. “Besides, in the short time we’ve known Tegan, do you think she’ll be happy to find the both of us… spying… on her? Hmm? No, no, she won’t be happy at all. I would rather have one of us received of her ire than both of us, wouldn’t you? Go on…”

Adric frowned and turned from the edge of the pond. The sour look on his face spoke volumes. The Doctor kept his expression schooled until Adric left the high reeds and continued down the shoreline towards the camp. He was a growing boy nearing manhood. The Doctor didn’t know what his prior experience with sexual situations had been, nor did he want to ask at the moment. He could understand the attention the boy was paying to a naked woman, but that naked woman was one of his companions. One companion that wouldn’t be happy to find Adric watching.

He glanced towards Tegan again to see her shaking her hair from free of water. Even from here, he could see the delighted smile on her lips and knew she enjoyed the shower. Still, she had disobeyed him.

The Doctor glanced along the shoreline and saw the probable path she had taken to get to her hidden pool. He pushed the reeds aside and trekked towards her. At his last glance before the path turned towards the trees, he saw her back arched again, her head back. He stopped for a moment, acknowledged the erotic image she presented and then turned into the woods. He fought the urge to clear his throat.

**

The path came out just to the left side of where Tegan stood. The waterfall splashed rather than roared and Tegan still stood under the cascade. He came through the trees and exited near the rocks. He felt the cool mist where he stood. Tegan was finishing her shower. She had her head back to let the water course off her head and face.

He crossed his arms over his chest and considered her. Her front was more gloriously feminine than her back. Her neck was long and slim, her breasts large for her size, yet high and firm. They were tipped with rose-colored nipples hardened from the cold water. Her hips flared as he had seen from behind, but now they, and her sleek thighs, framed her womanhood in perfect biologic symmetry. She was perfection. He felt something solid in his throat and swallowed hard to dislodge it. He hadn’t seen a woman’s body in a lifetime and hers was…quite…lovely. Quite…bewitching in fact…and housed an outrageously strong spirit and a foolish mind.

Foolish: she had done exactly what he had told her not to. That thought sobered his mind a great deal and made his lips close. Funny, he hadn’t known they were open. He strangely felt itchy in his skin, as if his blood was heating in his veins. He hadn’t had that feeling in a century: arousal.

“Tegan.”

He said her name just loudly enough to be heard over the falling water. She reacted immediately. Her head righted and her gaze immediately turned to his direction. Unexpectedly, she didn’t cover herself, but switched into a defensive pose. Her legs moved to balance weight; her dominant hand went back: she was going to fight the threat. He smiled; that certainly was a different reaction. “Tegan, it’s me.”

The girl relaxed slightly and turned from him. “You scared me! What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Coming and finding the companion who disregarded my warnings,” he rumbled He gingerly stepped closer to the small pool, only just keeping his balance, and up on one of the few dry rocks at the edge. “I told you to stay at the camp. You don’t know what could be in the water, Tegan…eels, carnivorous animals, microbes! You could be bathing in your own death, you know.”

“That’s not very likely, is it?” Tegan said, growled really, over her shoulder. “You already said the water was safe to drink; why wouldn’t it be safe to bathe in it?”

“That’s rather not the point,” he lectured. His gaze watched the water course off her back and over the curve of her buttocks. “That’s not the point at all! I don’t tell you to stay where I tell you to stay because I like to hear my own voice. I tell you those things to keep you safe!”

“Safe?!” Tegan turned slightly sideways and took two steps behind a rock so that most of her body was shielded from his view. “We stumble out the door of that crate of yours into the End of all Ends every day and you’re worried that we aren’t safe?!”

He closed his eyes and slipped his hands into his pockets. This girl was infuriating! And he wasn’t going to rise to her bait.

“Time to get out of the water, Tegan,” he warned. “We don’t even know if there are inhabitants of this planet: you may be giving them all a show.”

“If I’m not worried about you seeing me,” Tegan shot back as she began to climb out of the water. “Why would I worry about them, eh?”

“You’re not worried about me seeing you?” That comment caused the Doctor to take aback slightly. His eyes snapped open and he frowned.

“No.”

“You like being an exhibitionist,” he concluded. Oh, the psychological implications that possibility gave! He watched as she nimbly climbed up to ground level over the submerged rocks. As she rose, he had a full glimpse of her young body presented in full silver moonlight. Her breasts jiggled as she pulled herself out and her buttocks tightened pleasantly. Her nipples were still impossibly tight and erect. It was a pleasant and purely sexual vision.

“No, I don’t,” She pouted.

The Doctor was confused. He moved his eyes from her to look at the rocks. “Why-“

“Well, you’re not human, are you?” Tegan helpfully responded. She shook her head to dislodge water from her hair. “You probably look at me like a biology experiment or some other god-awful thing that would get my ire up.” Her voice was hard, and brooked no-nonsense. She yanked at the blanket she had put over a tree branch. “It’s not like you would even notice that I was in my starkers, even if I danced like an imp naked as the day I was born under your Time Lord nose.” She snorted a laugh as she wrapped in the blanket. When that was done, she turned to face him. “And I pretty much think that any other ‘inhabitants’ would think the same way, right?”

The Doctor’s gaze centered on her hair, drifted down to her eyes then to the drape of the blanket across her shoulders and breasts. “That they don’t find human’s anything more than a ‘biology experiment’? Possibly. I can’t speak for all non-humans.”

Tegan pursed her lips as if to say: I thought so. The Doctor rolled his eyes slightly.

“We need to get back to the camp, Tegan. And away from the water.”

She turned her back on him and began to walk through the reeds. She bent to gather her clothes and shoes.

“Knowing any of these other worlds won’t help me at all,” Tegan said. “Just get me back to Heathrow where I belong.”

“I’m trying. But it would help me if you’d simply stay where you’re put.”

“Like a bloody bag of potatoes,” she spat. She pulled the blanket closer and began to walk over the landscape. He found his gaze drawn to her ankles and calves. She muttered something else as she walked away from him, but he couldn’t quite hear it.

He slid his hands into his pockets and he followed her desperately trying to ignore the tightness in his throat and the flash of heat near his groin area at the thought of her in that waterfall. Where on Earth did the girl get the idea that only humans found the humanoid body attractive? He was feeling arousal; he certainly appreciated a female humanoid body. After all, he was a male capable of the sexual act, if not reproduction.

She was just a few yards ahead of him, stopped. The blanket was caught on a branch. In her typical fashion, she was trying to pull the material from the low jaggered branches almost viciously. The wool wrap was falling low on her shoulder, exposing the creamy skin to view. “Oh…rabbits,” she said quietly as she continued to twist to and fro to loosen the hold that nature had on her cover.

“Cover up, Tegan,” he offered gruffly. He bent and pulled the blanket from the branches and gentlemanly lifted the fallen edge to her shoulder. His fingers brushed her skin and she blinked at him. For a blessed moment, she looked rooted to the spot, her gaze on him with his hand just millimeters from her skin. Then she turned and started off across the terrain again, her pace as furious as her temper. He smiled ruefully and followed.

Brave New World Continuation: Part 3

2007-06-24T23:16:35Z

Turlough’s arms had never seemed so strong or inviting. Tegan could face life, but not her dreams of death. His thumbs cleared away her tears as she came awake next to him. In the dark dim of a night unfamiliar to them both, he looked dangerously young and deceptively strong. There was no need to tell him what she had dreamed; death was all the same. The image of children playing as a bomb destroyed their world was hard to handle; the image of the Doctor’s broken body lying somewhere superimposed on the image of dead children was more than she could take.

He cooed softly, his hand stroking her forehead and hair. She held his hand as her tears subsided. She was glad they slept next to each other.

“We’ll leave in two days,” he reassured. “The Doctor will find us if he is alive. And it’ll do you good to get away from this city.”

But she wondered if the dreams would ever change.

**

“What-“

Tegan sat up quickly on the pallet. The blanket fell to her lap as Turlough blinked his eyes open. The darkness about them was complete.

“Tegan…”

“Shhh.” She bit out. She had been in a beginning throe of a nightmare; she wanted to make sure what she was hearing wasn’t in her head. Turlough exasperatedly sighed. His arm, which had been raised to touch her, flopped to the pallet between them. After a few seconds, the noise that had awakened Tegan resounded: a puff of animal breath, a light snort and the steady scratch of paw on the ground. She inhaled as Turlough levered up on his elbows quickly. “Cripes…” she breathed. She became a flurry of activity to rush to the window.

In the dim of the mid spring moon, she saw a large animal at their door. Two others stood in the street nearby. “A bloody quoll…”

Turlough was instantly awake. The door began to shake a little as the animal dug at the portal. With a snap of his fingers, he urged Tegan to throw him a bow. She frowned and grabbed a chair nearby. It was a quick thought; the action done more out of instinct than plan and she shoved the chair under the door handle. The door continued to shake and opened slightly to show a dark nose, snorting and puffing.

She twisted to grab the bow. “Here.” She threw the willowed bow to his waiting hand. Without a thought, she leaned into the table and pushed against it hard. The large metal furniture slid to lodge against the door. It slammed shut. Tegan could feel the pull of her muscles and grimaced.

The snorting and digging continued for another couple of minutes and then abruptly stopped. “That… was … “ Tegan struggled to get a full breath. She tossed a quiver of arrows to Turlough and grabbed her own bow. It fit in her palm as if second nature. She fit a quiver of arrows to her back quickly.

“Easy, Tegan…” Turlough stressed. “Easy…deep breaths…they are outside. Not in here.”

She nodded and took deep breaths, but a shuffling of noise from the rear of the building had her launching towards the rear door before she could draw two breaths together. “The door is open back there.”

“Tegan!”

She saw Turlough lean forward and grimace as his muscles pulled in his leg. “Stay there.”

“Tegan don’t –“

She bolted out the door and down the hallway. A knife from the kitchen table was in her right hand, the bow in her left.

Heart pounding, her breaths rushing past her lips, she ran down the hall and stopped just shy of the door to the back room. “Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing,” she panted.

“Tegan!” Turlough’s voice was harsh. “Tegan, get back here!”

“He’ll never do well if that animal gets in there,” she panted and swallowed hard. She turned the corner and saw that the back door was closed, but only just barely. Tegan also saw there was nothing to brace the door with. “Bloody hell…” she hissed. She gripped the bow and mounted an arrow. The Doctor had said it wouldn’t do well, but Turlough had shown her that it would… at short distances. That was all there was in that room: close quarters and short distances.

The door opened a crack. Tegan sent an arrow through the crack and heard the satisfying sound of an animal howling. The scratching at the door increased. “Oh no…” she commented. “I’m not going to crash on a planet only to be eaten.” She loaded another arrow. After five more arrows, the scratching wasn’t as loud. In fact, she heard the animals growling at each other. Squinting, she could see that several were ripping into one animal which she had apparently killed.

Wincing at the snarls, she chanced coming closer to the door. She would have to shut it firmly while they were distracted. She turned to run back to the hallway and a large table that was in the foyer when a hand closed over her wrist. Blindly, and knowing she would have heard Turlough, she struck out with the knife. It was knocked from her hand deftly. Her fists were used next; she struck out with both of them. Her heart was beating like a fucked clock, fast and hard. Animals…now a human…surrounded by viciousness, she wasn’t going to buckle. No way.

“Tegan!”

A voice from the past that sounded as cool as the grip wrapped about her wrist. She drew a deep breath and went weak at the same time. The Doctor took her weight and folded her in an embrace.

“Well, that certainly was a different welcome home.”

**

“She’s been like that for several weeks.” He had risen early and hobbled outside to join the Doctor. He sensed that his friend wasn’t going to talk immediately about his prolonged absence. With a bend, he stretched out his thigh muscle and continued to walk across the ground. The Doctor hummed and turned slightly to greet him.

“I’m glad to see you are getting round a bit better, Turlough,” the Doctor said by way of greeting. He turned back to face the finishing sunrise. “No better, then, is she?”

“No…” It was released as a sigh when Turlough rested against the low half wall near the end of the road. “No, no better. She’s getting more sleep, grant you, but the nightmares are just as if not more intense. During the day, she seems almost as if she’s on automatic. She gets done everything she needs to. I can tell when she’s seen or done something off kilter for her, but she doesn’t cry. She doesn’t react. It’s so utterly un-Tegan.”

“And at night?”

“She reaches out to me. She cries, she screams, yells, argues with maker knows who…certainly not me. Oh, I hear it all, but it’s all occurring in her mind. She goes about her emotional outburst and then almost craves to be held.”

“Suppression…” the Doctor offered quietly.

“You knew she would react that way.”

The Doctor nodded. “I might have done some mild encouragement with that. I didn’t think she would react so strongly, though. But…”

When the Doctor finally turned to look back at Turlough, it was clear he was confused. Turlough smiled tightly. “She’s been relying on me. At night she lays in my arms, curled against me, her face buried in my chest. But she relies just as much on protecting me, on keeping me going. Giving her me as a job, Doctor…”

“Ah, yes,” the Doctor said with a puffed breath. “Delaying her mental breakdown as it were. She’s duty driven for the most part so I gave her a duty until the situation was more stabilized.”

“Smart.”

“Survival,” the Doctor sighed. “When you’re alive there’s hope. Being on this planet is better than most and you and I have more history with warfare and the ravages therefrom so we are in a better situation overall. But for Tegan, it’s like seeing her own planet gone. And the crash…she’s never gone through space crash training. You have.”

“True. And survival training. Tegan has survival instincts.”

“Quite.”

The Doctor sighed. Turlough couldn’t quite get used to the beard on his chin. It made him look completely different. Without glancing at him, the Doctor nodded. “My nanites are a bit off. Facial hair grew, but I’ve been able to keep it short. Besides, I’ve been immersed in other things.”

“Don’t tell me now,” Turlough said. “Wait for Tegan; she’ll want to know what you’ve been doing before she kills you.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Yes, I was gone a bit long.” He tilted his head back. “I’ll be glad to get that reaction from her, actually. I have good news for her; she’ll forgive me.” The laughter died and the serious look returned in his eyes. “We shall have to work on what she needs emotionally; it might be some time before we leave here.”

“Before or if?” Turlough pressed.

“One of us will be leaving fairly soon,” the Doctor reassured. “The other two will be here for some time, but I believe, if our cards are played correctly and luck is on our side, it won’t be nearly forever.”

“Thank God.”

Her voice was smoky and tight with lack of sleep, but Tegan had made her entrance. Turlough smiled at the Doctor’s reaction to the tone of her voice. He started and turned quickly to glance at her. Tegan’s hair was longer than on the TARDIS, but Turlough thought that the style (or lack thereof) complemented her elfin eyes well. Her body had slimmed and toned more and she looked extremely petite. He knew from experience that she was stronger than she had been, however. She stood in the door, clad in an oversized button shirt and a pair of short shorts: her nocturnal dress code of late.

Turlough spied a spark in Tegan’s gaze, a look driven by strong emotion. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Good morning to you too, Tegan,” the Doctor said, a little boy smile on his lips. “I have been procuring our future transportation from this planet.”

In general, since I'm taking down the personal fic site

2007-05-20T21:26:43Z

If someone wants to rip into these stories and beta them or tell me what needs to be improved, I'd love it. It's not necessary though. Enjoy.

Since my personal webspace is coming down...

2007-05-20T21:25:35Z

This is a continuation of the one last one: Working title: Brave New World.

“It’s all right.”

A pair of long arms wrapped around her. The tone of voice was quiet and familiar; she couldn’t place the owner. She didn’t care; the voice reminded her of safety. She saw Turlough lying at her feet in her mind’s eye and began to shake. His eyes were open, but he seemed not to see. His breathing was shallow. The tourniquet tightened on his leg despite her hands being slippery with blood. She elevated it in her own lap and finished ripping the trousers to his waist. He was naked then, but she saw nothing; it only drove home the fact of how very pale he was.

As she fully emerged from the nightmare, her hands gathered the material of a shirt in her hands. “He was dying…”

“He’s alive…” Her shaking increased and the arms drew her tightly into a chest. She turned her head sideways and took several deep breaths as the arms grew hands and the hands held her shoulders. “He’s next to us; he’s alive and breathing.”

“I couldn’t…and the Doctor…”

“I’m fine…”

Tegan tilted her head back from his chest and looked up into his face. His right arm held her loosely, but his left arm held her tightly. The Doctor’s young visage looked down at her in the gloom; his eyes dark and serious. “I’m fine, Tegan…you took care of me.”

“Blood everywhere…”

“You stopped us both from dying.” His voice rumbled out of him. She was held tightly against the chest as he moved to sit. “We’re all okay. You’re fine.”

“The nightmares won’t stop, Doctor.” She whispered. “Why?”

He didn’t answer and his embrace released a little. His face was very gentle as he leaned forward and moved her to recline against the wall. His arm remained about her shoulders, holding her gently…like a child. “You’re trying to heal your mind. It was hard on you. You were exhausted and emotional…”

“I thought you were both going to die…” She took a deep breath and steadied her breathing. “You were both going to leave me.”

“I’m a Time Lord,” he responded. “I would have regenerated; I wouldn’t have left you.” He released her and moved a bit away. His finger traced down her cheek. “Brave heart, Tegan…go back to sleep…”

The interior of the sheltered ruin was warmer than outside, despite the warmer temperatures of late. It must be the wind, she thought, as she stepped nimbly inside their home. Her hands were full of clover and a small furry animal her arrow had taken down. Turlough was slowly wobbling around the interior, back and forth between the table and the fire.

“The tracks were in front of the root cellar again today.”

Her voice was matter of fact, but she felt a little unsure of the situation. Turlough was in the process of drinking water, but she didn’t wait for his comment. She walked to the table and put down her wares. “And the garden next door is coming along nicely.”

“I found your prints today,” he said quietly. She waited and fought the urge to help him to the table as he hobbled back. Tegan couldn’t help but watch the painful way he moved. His hips moved with a slight off center roll. He slowly leaned into the table and pulled the book on the surface towards him. She didn’t move to help him, but felt her heart rate quicken as he eased to the chair.

“Hmm?”

Turlough tapped against the page as Tegan laid the animal on the table. “I’ll skin it in a moment,” he said with a slight glance. “Look at this.”

“I can skin-“She began, but he shook his head quickly.

“You killed it; I skin them,” he said. “Look at this picture, Tegan…we can cook in a minute.”

“Not like there’s a lot of food anyway…” Tegan commented as she wiped her hands and joined him at the table. “I’ll have to go looking for berries tomorrow; might do you a bit of good…”

“No need to give me that look, Tegan; I’ll go,” Turlough shot back. She frowned at his attitude, but warmed a bit. Every day that he gave her a bad attitude made her feel like old times. He pointed to the page and her eyes quickly gave it a glance over in the dying afternoon light.

“Is that the print?” Turlough asked quietly as he turned the wheel of the tricycle. It in turn powered the billow…the fire flared.

“Yeah…” Tegan squinted at the page. “Yeah, that looks like it. Wow…it looks like a quoll.”

“And what was a quoll?” Turlough flipped to the next page. On the glossy paper, the picture of a four legged animal with a smaller animal in its mouth. “Obviously if it’s the same, it would be a carnivore.”

“Yeah, a bit of a vicious one, but they’re small. They’re Australian…well…if we were on Earth they would be Australian. Here I think they’re just displaced…” Tegan took the one of the knives and began to trim the clover. “And here I was worried…”

“Hmm…and how large are they?”

She stopped and held out her hands. “’Bout so big; they aren’t much of a problem.” Turlough nodded as he picked up another large knife to skin and gut the animal.

“And how big was the print?”

“Oh Lord…if I knew this was going to be a test, I wouldn’t have mentioned it in the first place,” she groused. The pot was put on the fire and she turned to wound the wheel. The fire flared.

“How large?” Turlough pressed the issue. She could hear the skin being cut and pulled from the animal carcass. She had heard it as a child when her father would skin animals after hunting and she had heard it often in the last three months; but she was very sure she was never going to get used to it. The thought of her father caused a momentary flash of intense heartache. When she had been on the TARDIS seeing him again was always just a matter of going home and she could choose the time and place. But now…she might never see him again.

The pain was acute. She shook her head and swallowed to dislodge the emotion, but succeeded only a little. It was enough.

With a shrug, Tegan held out her hand. “Cripes, I don’t know…big as my hand…” Her gaze fell to the book and then back to her fingers held wide in front of her. Then, slowly, she sank into the chair. “Oh…hell…”

“As I was thinking,” Turlough pressed. Although he looked older after his injuries, the youthful infuriating school boy attitude still came across uninterrupted. “Proportionally…that little…quoll…as you called it, would be…”

“As big as a bloody wild cat.. just what we need.” She looked at the encyclopedia thing and then frowned. The water nearby began to boil. “Can we figure out if it is a carnivore for sure?”

“Well, I’m not exactly an expert at their language,” he commented dryly.

“No need to get snotty,” she shot back and rose to look in the pot. She tossed in the clover and stood by to fish it out.

“Well…” he said as he began to slice the meat. “We do know that the prints are found near where we put the skins, bones and the like.”

She sighed heavily. “Right. So…we work under that assumption.” With a quick flick of her wrist, the strainer pulled the clover from the pot.

“They are near the trash pile,” Turlough said as he began to put the meat in the pot. His slow rolling gait was rhythmic and Tegan again fought the urge to help him. “It’s stored some distance away.”

“It’s early spring; the young are being born,” she said quietly and knowingly. “It’ll only be time before they start hunting for more food.”

Turlough nodded. “I thought so as well. You’ll have to bring the bows in. The gunpowder is useless.”

“The Doctor said the arrows wouldn’t work…”

“They will,” Turlough said as he put the last of the meat into the pot. “Not at a distance, though. We’ll have to get much closer.”

“Closer to something that will probably kill us,” Tegan voiced disbelievingly. “Wonderful. I want a knife at that distance. And I would have never thought you would know about bows and arrows.”

“Because I’m Trion and Earthlings are a bit more…”

“Primitive?”

“A bit closer to using their hands for warfare I was going to say. It’s all relative-“

“That’s big of you.”

Turlough pivoted slowly and approached her with that slow hobbling gait. He frowned down at her, a quizzical look in his light blue eyes. “Tegan, I don’t care what we are: if I’m not human and you are…it doesn’t much matter now.”

“Spot on,” she agreed, her teeth grit.

“Then why press the issue?” His hands gently rubbed her shoulders. She wondered what he had seen in her stance. She knew she was filthy and she had to find some new clothes soon. But surely she didn’t look like a waif quite yet. He often touched her when she seemed a bit out of sorts so she assumed she looked a bit unhinged. “Hmm?” He pressed as he rubbed her shoulders a bit harder.

“It just reminded me of the…Doc…” she said simply. His hands stopped rubbing her shoulders and squeezed them. She shook her head before he could respond. “I know; it’s been seven weeks, almost eight. And I don’t need you to say anything about it; I’m a realist. Every day that goes by means he’s probably not coming back. Bloody Time Lord.” That pain had been there about his father, grew a bit more intense and lodged in her chest.

Turlough slowly released her shoulders. “We should leave for the antenna soon.”

“We need food and water…” Tegan began. “Or at least we need to get together more of those purification pills…”

“Bleach…” Turlough replied. He turned and took the pot off of the fire. The meat was white and ready to eat. “By next week, Tegan, we should leave…he’ll find us there if he’s alive.”

She clamped down on the wave of sorrow and panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She patted the air with her hands. “I’ll try and get two animals per day…”

“We’ve got the salt…we can preserve for a short time.” He agreed quietly. “But make sure you bring the bows inside at night…”
**

Tegan hadn’t been inside the house previously; she had avoided it because of the tricycle in the front yard. Tricycle spoke of children and children’s toys and children’s clothes; there was something about adult things in a world like this. But children’s things in a dead world… she rubbed her arms. Even in the spring late afternoon sunshine, she felt chilled.

“Would they have felt pain?”

“It would have been almost immediate,” the Doctor said quietly. She watched his body stance, his right arm completely wrapped from wrist to shoulder limply resting in the sling. He turned; she saw his face in shadow until he followed her gaze to the swing set slowly moving in the breeze. “They would have felt nothing.”

He continued to look at her and she took a deep breath. “Tegan, they would have felt nothing.” He turned completely and painfully walked to her. She kept her gaze past his shoulder, kept it trained on the swing set. His left hand lifted, hung in the air for a moment, the palm turned toward her and then slowly lowered to his side. “Tegan…I promise…the children wouldn’t have felt anything…”

“Well, I’m not getting those clothes any quicker hanging about here all day, am I?” She asked harshly. She blinked her eyes, opened them wide and steadfastly began to walk towards the house. “After all, it’ll get dark soon; I have to get those clothes.”

The door opened under her hand. The Doctor had broken the locks on most of the houses in the area before he had left. The inside of the kitchen looked as though the family was going to return home. She knew better than to open the refrigerator in the corner. Dishes were in the sink; cutlery on the table; a pitcher on the table. Over the back of one of the chairs, a coat hung. A children’s textbook with a pencil and yellowed paper laid out on a desk near the table. She couldn’t help but read it as she walked past. It looked like a child had been practicing their writing.

“Oh…cripes…”

Quickly, she walked through the kitchen and into the main room. More toys were piled in the corner, a small pair of shoes by the hallway.

“Clothes…” she said quietly as she walked through the room. The stair yawned ahead of her in the dimming light and she quickly climbed to the second story. “Clothes.” She continued her mantra; Tegan bypassed the doors along the corridor. At the end, she opened the door on what she determined was the master bedroom. “Clothes…”

The bed wasn’t made, the windows had been shut, but the moisture had built up. The smell of mildew was overwhelming in the room. She covered her mouth and frowned. The closet opened and the clothes looked somewhat salvageable; washing others had resulted in useable items. She reached in to grab whatever she could find. Tegan filled her arms with pants and shirts and a few dresses. As she grabbed the last couple of items, she spied the back of the door. A small christening dress with the silk mildly discolored hung on the back of the door.

She felt her breath catch in her chest, the crushing pressure making it impossible to get oxygen. She began to pant and she turned to run from the darkening room. The sunset made the ghost of a happy day seem almost ghastly to her.

Well, I'm going to give this one a try...

2007-05-10T17:50:00Z

Slowly. There are two stories that are very different from what I write. I'll put one up now. The other is going to go through a major rewrite. I apologize in advance for strange ideas, but please keep in mind that I am working to improve the quality of my writing.

Hope you like..

The world was calm; her feet were firmly on the metallic floor and gravity existed.
Space was defined only as being…out there, separate. It wasn’t something to be interacted or experienced, just witnessed. Noise was at a minimum, discussions occurred.

The world changed; gravity diminished. Shouts and screams, pleads and promises. Her feet floated off the ground. Space was something through which they were being hurtled. No longer witnessed, it became their challenge.

Through the view screen, Tegan Jovanka watched the larger spaceship become smaller, watched the distance between where they were and where it was widen. Turlough’s hand closed on hers, a momentary grounding. Her heartbeat quickened, air was there; would it disappear? The Doctor grabbed her other hand and she was pulled to a seat; gravity returned…seatbelt, surface.

Streaks of debris and dust bounced against the view port; the larger spaceship was speeding away. Tegan’s breathing became quicker, harsher; her mind disembodied; the lump in her throat nearly suffocated her.

“No. Oh no.”

Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the seat. Her heartbeat was all she heard, louder and louder, faster and faster.

Then strangely she saw two planets: one grey rock, the other green and blue and brown. Immediately one was home, the other a wasteland.

“Pull on the controls!”

The Doctor’s voice was hard, insistent; she felt like there wasn’t enough air. Turlough pulled himself into a chair and strapped in as the Doctor mirrored his actions. Tension made their bodies hard; both of their arms shook from the force, from pulling on the controls. The rock remained dead in front of the ship; their course didn’t waver. “Little atmosphere, but…” the Doctor shouted.

“Slingshot!” Turlough cried. For a moment more, Tegan watched the grey rock ball remain dead in their sights, but then it turned, but then the view port moved, the nose of the craft moved. The colorful planet came into full view and their speed had increased.

Nearer and nearer, the planet’s surface clarified. Mountains and streams, flat, dirt, ice and clouds. Desperation was shouted in body language of the males in front of her.

“Get in the back with Tegan.” The order was given, spoken harshly.

“But-“Turlough’s voice was louder, more high in pitch.

“Now! No arguments!”

Turlough looked at him for a moment more and then rose, half in shock, half in reaction. “I’m a pilot.”

“Then you know it’s safer in the back – go!”

She felt her seatbelt released and Turlough pulled her by the hand as he moved past her. Steam and red were everywhere on the view port.

“Hurry!”

Tegan was pulled to the back of the pod and strapped into the only support board. Turlough faced her, covered her body with his and attempted to tie himself to the board and her.

“Doctor!” Tegan could see his body against the red, all that red. She could see him clearly past Turlough’s shoulders. Turlough’s breathing was hard and fast, near her brow.

“Hold onto the board, Tegan,” he instructed.

“Doctor!” She reached out to him, past Turlough, past the board handles. The Doctor was blonde and dark, a brooding figure against the burning, the flames on the view port. “What about you!?”

He glanced over his shoulder, a small sad smile on his face; the glance was slow and long and sad and… She could see the resignation, the pain, the understanding and the sorrow. “Brave heart, Tegan.” Words said quietly, yet it was like a shot.

“No!” She knew that look; she knew those words. “No!” She tried to reach for the supports. “No; let me go! Doctor! Come with us!”

“I’ve gotten you both into this.” Tegan could hear the power in the tone of voice, a power that wasn’t to be questioned. It was in symphony with the roar around them. “I’m truly sorry; forgive me.”

Clouds now against the view port, heavy bloodshot fireclouds parting to reveal a green planet dangerously close.

“DOCTOR!”

“Wake up, Tegan.”

Tegan heard the words as she rocketed upright out of a dead sleep. She was immediately enveloped in Turlough’s arms. The shaking followed and she drew a shaky breath as his embrace lightly held her. “No…oh no…”

“It’s all right, Tegan,” he reassured. His voice was deadened in the rock and cement that surrounded them.

She felt the familiar cool of his shirt against her cheek. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe and her chest felt like it was going to explode. Then, as his hands slowly rubbed her shoulders, air became present for her to breathe again. “Hell’s teeth…” she complained in a whisper. The curse made his chest rumble with laughter. “It was bad enough living through it once. What bloody part of my mind wants to relive it over and over all the time?”

“The Doctor went for medication.”

“I’ve told him I don’t want those damned meds,” she responded.

“The Doctor has returned with said damned meds.” In the mostly dark the ruin afforded them, the Doctor looked taller. His voice was steady and calm, as per usual. Tegan frowned and shook her head forcefully. As the small fire in the corner of the room flared just a little, she could see the pinched expressions on their faces, the pain in Turlough’s stance, and the ragged look of the Doctor’s clothes. There was the hunger tightness of skin; the perpetual tiredness of just living was etched into their bodies. It made her take a deep breath; the nightmare became real, but she fought against that reality.

“It was just a nightmare. It’s easier than being awake any day,” Tegan groused. “But I’m not taking those meds. I know you can become dependent on stuff like that. No way. I’m not becoming an addict on a dead planet; that’s all I need.”

The Doctor opened his mouth and then began to laugh. By the time he knelt in front of her, his face looked younger and less stressed. “These are the equivalent of baby aspirin on Earth,” he said with a chuckle. “They aren’t habit forming.”

“They aren’t?” Tegan sighed.

“That’s why you’ve been fighting them?” Turlough continued to chuckle as he painfully moved away from her and all but collapsed back against the wall. He shimmied for a moment, moving his left side slowly and then relaxed. “I know many people who would welcome addiction in a situation like this. Why be completely conscious…”

It was at that moment that Tegan decided she wanted to kill them, again. That had to be the third time that week.

“They’re quite safe,” the Doctor agreed. His smile had faltered a little as she began to struggle out of the cocoon of the Doctor’s tattered coat and a blanket. Turlough reached out to stop her, but she was on her feet. He couldn’t reach her then.

She stumbled out the door into the chilly predawn air. Turlough’s call didn’t stop her. The scenery outside the door stopped her dead in her tracks; it always did.

It could have been suburban Brisbane. Or rather: suburban Brisbane after a war.
Hulking half there, half gone shells of homes…roofs and chimneys…trees and something like bikes in driveways. There were car-like vehicles, mailboxes, sidewalks and streets. Even street signs remained. The only thing that was truly missing was the people. In one driveway, there was a tricycle on its back. In another driveway, there was a swing… She always had a hard time looking at them, but made herself stare; if only to etch it into her mind. Tegan Jovanka had always been a realist; this was reality, now. She would force the lonely, the scarred scenery into her mind to make it solid; it was the only way she knew how to handle it.

The Doctor called the planet Andromeda Two. He had explained to her that it was like Earth, very like Earth. The populace had been humanoid, but lived longer than humans. He knew the planet well.

“It had been on course to become a galactic force to be reckoned with, but before they could sprout their space legs; they annihilated themselves. A genetic bomb along with conventional warfare. No, Tegan…don’t worry, it’s quite safe. The genetic bug died out after the population died. There were no survivors.”

“And,” she had asked. “…when did this all occur?”

He had found the answer by looking at nature-plant intrusion. “About a hundred years ago by this planet. Sociologists and archeologists will be here in about two hundred years, or was it two hundred and fifty years…good Rassilon, I should have brought my diary.”

The absence of any other life except plants and small animals always brought Tegan up dead. She leaned against the wall by the door and let the now familiar shaking begin. So Earth-like…so devastated. If she listened hard enough, she swore she heard children playing.

“Tegan.” The Doctor appeared near her; he looked in the opposite direction and then turned to see her. She could see the easing of the muscles in his shoulders. He sighed heavily.

“I haven’t gone far,” she stated. “But it would serve you right…make a joke out of-“

“You have to admit we need humor, Tegan,” he stated with a long exhale and a nod.

“You weren’t bloody good at it in the best of times,” she said.

The Doctor’s quiet breathing remained even; she hadn’t succeeded in a reaction from him. “Take the meds while I am gone, please?”

She tilted her head back to look skyward.

“That’s what these dreams are about,” he specified. “Reliving our crash here; they’re increased in frequency since we’ve made the decision to survey the area.”

“I still say we all ought to go- not. Just. You.” Tegan groused. She had a headache; it was right between the eyes. The Doctor mirrored her stance, his hands flat against the cement of the wall, and his arse resting firmly on his palms.

He shook his head before he spoke. “No, no, Tegan. Turlough is improving; he will improve; he will and is recovering from his injuries. But bouncing him across rugged terrain now might reverse that situation.” He laid his hand ever so lightly on her shoulder.

“I’m not worried about him or me, you know—I’m worried about you.”

The Doctor bit his lip and levered away from the crumbling wall. Sunrise was peeking over the horizon; not that it would make the scenery any less…troublesome to her. “Come on…” he urged. “I have to get the maps together.”

“Do you need to leave today?” She asked the question as she started to follow him. The path was a well-known one now, but the rubble made it slow going. At the end of the small street, she and he turned right. The almost whole chemist shop stood on the next corner; it was across the street from a large brick building. Almost daily, it seemed the pile of bricks in front of it increased. As she slowly climbed over the pile, he responded.

“I should have left earlier. Weather may be an issue.”

She humphed as he reached to lift her down from the last of the bricks. Tegan tried to tell him no, wincing as he stretched his arm muscles, but he did it anyway. “Are you still planning on being gone three weeks?”

“Tegan.” Ah, she thought, there was the old exasperation; it warmed her to hear it and she made a mental tally note in her favor. It reminded her of days gone by -- a lifetime, a month ago. “If the maps are correct, the coast is less than 100 miles away. Then there is locating the science center north of here. I think three weeks is pushing it a bit.”

She sighed heavily as they started on their way again. As they passed the cistern that she and the Doctor had improvised, she commented: “It’s the last of the snow, I think; it’s getting warmer. I’ll have to put what snow I can find today in the cistern.”

He nodded as he strolled on down the lane; it might have been Piccadilly with all the attention he was giving their surroundings. “There’s additional small game and berries in the root cellar,” he offered in response. He stopped and wearily looked at her. “Are you proficient with the bow yet?”

“I’m not going to starve,” she said. “Something else will have to kill me, but not lack of food.”

His smile was faint, but heartfelt. “So…”

“We’ll be fine,” she stressed. Truly, in her mind, it wasn’t the arrows or the bows or anything; it was them separating.

“The arrows aren’t…well…if you run across a thick skinned or very large animal, Tegan…”

“I know and that’s the last of our worries.”

“Hmm,” he sighed as they came to one of the few buildings left completely standing. Some of the façade had disappeared, the face of the guardian gargoyles still stared at her from the top of the piles of rubble.

The gas was still good, she thought numbly as they trotted up the steps; the cars still went. The planets were free from trouble; household gardens were all around, now back to their roots. Clothes stored indoors were remarkably well preserved. The landscape except for some bomb damage and natural degradation, was untouched and animals still roamed. All in all, it could have been much worse. But to her, being surrounded by ghosts of civilization was worse than anything. And being separated from the TARDIS was even worse.

“Not too far off of the shipping lanes by light speed, but about six months by sub-light propulsion.”

“Which is all that they would have had,” Turlough had offered one night by the fire.

The Doctor was standing at the large oak table just inside the large foyer of the library. She stared at his left shoulder as she drew near.

Consciousness, blessed thing, had come rushing at her like a train. She blinked her eyes open, only to see Turlough lying in a growing pool of blood at her feet. The front of the pod, ship, whatever, was gone…completely gone. Through her tears, she realized she was relatively, miraculously untouched. It was a bit of time to staunch Turlough’s bleeding. She couldn’t tell the extent of his injuries, but his left leg seemed useless. A tourniquet was applied as quickly as she could and his color grew no paler. He moaned; he was alive. She stumbled through the wreckage, disoriented, out of sorts, crying. She remembered calling for the Doctor, pleading that he was alive. Then she saw something through the wreckage: skin. A bare shoulder. His right arm was pinned by instrumentation, orange blood was everywhere, but he was conscious, moaning in pain.

She touched that shoulder, her fingers feeling the rough sewing job she had done of the skin and the clothes.

“It’s healed,” he reassured. She withdrew her hand as if burned. He still shied away from touch in his own way. “Now, I’m leaving the map with less of the topographic nuances with you and Turlough. If I’m not back in six weeks time, I want you and him to travel inland.”

“To that…antenna thing.”

“That’s right.” He puffed a breath and subconsciously rubbed his shoulder. “It’s a bit of a hike through deciduous rain forest, but that plateau would be our best second chance.”

“You really think there’s a rocket on that launch pad? At that science center?”

He nodded as he looked at the map once more before he started to roll it. “Turlough’s bandages should be changed every third day unless dirty. If he spikes a fever, use the willow bark extract.”

She reluctantly took the rolled map. The Doctor tapped her on the top of her head with his copy. “Have him walk on that leg every day.”

“I know.” The response was hotly said.

“The first row contains books on edible plants. Lots of pictures. You ought to be able to match them with plants self-propagating around here.”

“We’ve discussed that,” she said with bite. “Really – if – “

“I trust you implicitly, Tegan,” he said gently. At her look, he shook his head forcefully. “Take care of him. I’ll be fine. You can’t take care of us both…”

“It’s suicide to do what you’re doing.”

“No, it isn’t.” He turned to her fully. “It’s common sense. I’m the perfect one to go. If something happens to me physically, I rest for a day or two and am right as rain-“

“You’re not a tool.”

He stared at her for a moment and drew a deep breath. His youthful face was slightly lined now and a shock of white hair was tucked about his temples. Blue eyes once sky blue were now dark and troubled. It had been a month of nursing Turlough back to health; a month of recovery for him; a month of her wondering if they were both going to die and leave her alone; and a month of working sunrise to night just to find basics: food, water, shelter, and clothing. All this, she thought, in a shell of technology that was useless.

“I am responsible for this, Tegan. It was me that argued with Colonel Tirn; it was me that got us put on that pod and ejected. He didn’t care if we lived or died.” There was a warning in his voice. “No matter how loudly you yell; it won’t change my thoughts in the matter.”

She closed her eyes in exasperation. “And if you never come back?”

“Go to that antenna, get it working. I have faith that Turlough can manage that. And wait. We can’t do that right away; our best bet of escape or power is near a water source and that science center is near the ocean.”

“And if nothing works?” Her voice was tighter; she could feel anger bubbling through.

“I do not accept that possibility,” the Doctor replied harshly. He gathered up his map. “Regardless, something will work out – brave heart. It won’t be easy for any of us, but we will survive.”

Tegan put down her map and stepped forward. Her embrace was quick, almost sneakingly quick. As before, when he hadn’t initiated the physical touch, he started: physically jumped. Within a heartbeat, he relaxed and he returned the embrace with an avuncular one of his own. “Take care of yourself; I wish you wouldn’t go. We should stick together.”

“Then we are at odds,” he said with a chuckle. His arms tightened and then released. She could feel the mental push, the urge, for her to take a step back; again a familiar feeling. She had needed touch since the crash; needed the reassurance of them living, breathing. Turlough was fine with returning and initiating the touches; the Doctor avoided them. Still, he gave her a half smile and then let it crumple as tears spilled down her cheeks. He reached out and caught one on the tip of his forefinger.

“Oh Tegan…I need my coordinator. Turlough needs you. Don’t cry, please?” He said quietly. “It makes this…very hard indeed.”

An explanation, not a chastisement. He stepped back and stared at his finger- wet with her tears as she sniffed hard. His thumb rubbed the wetness into his skin with much attention and then he turned, gathered up the maps and slowly walked across the floor. The morning light was now above the ruins outside; for just a moment, he looked unbearably old, yet so young. “Come on,” he called back and held out his hand to her.

She pulled the map from the table and joined him.

Fic: Friends (G)...Just fluff

2007-04-19T10:13:05Z

“You’re very pom.”

“Hmm…”

“Really. Why on Earth would a Time Light… Time…God…” Tegan screwed up her mouth. “Bloody hell, that doesn’t sound right…”

“Time Lord,” the Doctor clarified. “...though I doubt you’ll remember it in the morning. You’re very drunk.”

“I wouldn’t have been…” she groused. “… if you would have joined me, you know. But why are you so pom?”

They were walking away from the bar. On her way into the building, she thought it reminded her of Casablanca, but with willow trees instead of palm trees. The Doctor had said something about not comparing other planets to Earth; she had retorted that it was all she had with which to compare anything. After all, she was a bloody airline stewardess, not an intergalactic traveler. Those overgrown frogs in Elizabethan London had been the last straw.

She squinted up at him. His face looked stern and that drove home the personification of a stern British gentleman all the more. The lights from the bar illuminated him from behind; mean and moody was the overall look it gave him. Tegan Jovanka suddenly decided that she didn’t need to know why he was a Pom; she needed to go home. She needed to sleep too.

“I like humans; I like England,” he defended. His arm was about her waist, his hand on her back. His other hand held her elbow. “That’s why I choose to wear what I do.” His hand tightened as they climbed a slight hill. “And as for my accent; well, you hear what is the most recognizable to you. You see British gentleman; you hear British gentleman.”

“So if I bloody well wanted to hear a Bushman, you’d be it?” She sniffed. “Pom and prudish, you are. Quite frankly, you wouldn’t know fun if it hit you in the face. All you ever take us to is the end of the Universe. Danger, running and god knows what shooting at us: that’s your idea of a night out on the town. You couldn’t even drink properly,” she complained. “That place had more beers than patrons.”

The Doctor slowed down and she was slowed in pace as well. “Yes, Tegan…I think that’s enough.”

“You wanted to know why I wanted to leave,” she said tersely. She stopped and turned to him. He was turned to her and lowered his hands to his sides. “That’s one of the main reasons. It’s all drama! It’s all…bloody drama! There’s no fun, no spontaneous fun!”

A ghost of a smile came to his lips. “Fun might be dangerous to a Time Lord, Tegan. Spontaneous fun might cause a regeneration.”

“Oh ha ha,” she spat. “Honestly. I went with you to that place because you said it would be fun. You sat in the bloody corner!”

“I observed.”

“You always observe. That’s all you know how to do!”

Tegan turned from him and began to walk away, along the side of the lake and towards the TARDIS. “Observe and stumble into trouble. Well, I need fun. Take me to Heathrow!”

“Is that really the main reason?” He called. Tegan twisted back to see the Doctor taking off his frock coat.

“Yes!”

“That I don’t know how to have spontaneous fun?!”

“Among other things, yes!” Tegan twisted back around. “Bloody Time Lord. I don’t – whoop!”

Tegan was caught up in a pair of arms, her back against one shoulder and her legs over another arm. It was confusing for a mere second. Then she recognized the question marks on the collar. “Doctor!”

His steps were quick and well paced. “You do swim, yes?”

“Yes. What’s that got to do with anything!? Put me down!”

“I would advise you to stop talking and take a deep breath.”

She looked down at the dark, calm waters of the lake right below her and then back at him. “You wouldn’t.”

His smile was wide and a little bit evil. Then he deliberately stepped off the small dock into the water.

**

When he broke surface, Tegan bobbed in the water next to him. He was glad that the water hadn’t been too cold for human comfort. He had barely taken a breath when he was hit with a small wall of water. “Bloody idiot! We’re fully clothed!”

“Yes, well…we can swim again properly attired,” he said with a wide smile. “Some where warmer, I think.”

She splashed water at him again.

“Well, you did need to sober up, Tegan. And you did challenge me. I don’t like to lose challenges.”

“But you haven’t won it…” she stressed as she treaded water. “Is this fun?”

“If we want it to be. It certainly was spontaneous,” he replied haughtily. Tegan went to splash him again and he began to swim in her direction. It wasn’t far and Tegan didn’t like the impish look in his eyes. She began to backstroke away from him, but he was a more powerful swimmer.

“You brute!” She shouted as he grabbed her legs and pulled her back toward him. “Let me go!”

“Brute is it? I thought I was a Pom,” he laughed. When he was able to grab her arm, she was pulled in by that. She splashed him as he began to swim backwards towards the shore. The look on his face made her laugh.

He took his time pulling the both of them to shore as they stopped often to engage in splashing matches. By the time they rounded a small island with a grove of trees, they were laughing almost constantly. There was an area under the grove with a submerged bench. It was huge and both of them took up residence on each end. They were both weak from laughter.

“My clothes are ruined.”

“So are mine,” the Doctor agreed. “The TARDIS can dry and fix them.”

Tegan laughed helplessly. “Why did you DO that?”

“Why not?”

She leaned her head back and stared at the stars through the leaf canopy overhead. A sense of calm pervaded her; relaxation was born after a fit of laughter and stars in a summer sky reminded her of happy times in childhood.

“It was fun, spontaneous and we both needed it. We could be friends, Tegan. It certainly would take less energy from the both of us.”

“I need to get home. I have a job.”

“A job that would show you the Universe? And have you swimming in a lake fully clothed with a Time Lord?”

Tegan laughed at the utter idiocy of the question. “No.”

His voice was a little louder. She turned her gaze to look at him as he moved closer. “I would like to be friends, you know,” she admitted. “I don’t dislike you. I just don’t think you can fly that crate and then there is the danger...”

He chuckled. “That ‘crate’ seems to not want to return you to Heathrow. But could you see all of this…” He threw his arms wide as if to encompass everything and the Universe. “…if you were at Heathrow? I’ll return you. We will make it someday, Tegan. I did promise. But…as I said a few days ago…it’s not everyone that can walk about in their own history.”

“Or future.” She said quietly.

“Or someone else’s history or future,” he supplied. Then he smiled at her. “Out there, Tegan…we travel out there where few others travel. Let’s be friends.”

It was the boyish smile, the fact that it WAS too much energy to yell about her job all the time, and that she did love this sort of travel that made her agree, she decided. Or it was the alcohol speaking, but it was saying something sensical. “Friends,” she agreed. “If you do something fun like this occasionally.”

“That I can promise. Have I mentioned there is a TARDIS swimming pool?”

Tegan laughed.

Ah....Paradise Lost

2007-01-10T01:53:12Z

It's up through chapter 4 or 5, I think and I have up through 11 written.

The rate I'm going, my dears, I'd better post a link to the story on Teaspoon. I got busy and had time to do that...lj was a bit of a stretch there.

Here's the link:

Woohoo...she remembered people! how about a banana or...erm...something

Paradise Lost Part 2

2006-12-15T23:10:27Z

Warnings posted in the first part:

“Good morning. Sleep well, did you?”

The Doctor practically bounded into the console room, a whirlwind of energy. The tails of his cream colored coat brushed against the closing door; his sneakers squeaked as he walked. His hair ruffled at his brow, falling dangerously into his eyes as he practically jogged to the console.

Tegan watched the movement skeptically. With her arms crossed over her chest and her hip balanced against the console’s metal rim, she hoped she looked suitably stern. The TARDIS had stopped and the Doctor still looked like he expected them to be in flight. And…he was hiding something…he wasn’t meeting her eyes. “As well as expected. Where are we?”

“Hmm?” The Doctor glanced down at the console and flipped a few switches. “We’re headed for Frontios, Tegan.”

“Hmm…” she replied. Turning slightly she indicated the central column. “And it should be moving for us to be doing that…yeah?”

“Ah…” the Doctor said as he leaned on the console. “Yes, quite.”

Tegan reached over to flick the viewscreen knob with a decisive twist of her wrist. The metal slid back to show a peaceful visage of a very familiar setting. Tegan’s gaze followed the lines then as she had earlier. An airy, sunlit lobby of what appeared to be a large hotel was revealed. She could see that the Doctor had leaned back from the console, his hands in his pockets. She knew his gaze was on the movement in the lobby, but hers was solely on the large crest in the floor.

She knew the moment he saw the crest. “Hmm.”

“Why are we on Paradise Prime…again?” She asked harshly.

The Doctor closed the viewscreen and slowly looked to Tegan. “I have no clue.”

“Don’t you?”

“Now, Tegan…”

She turned to completely face him and leaned on the console. “We’re on Paradise Prime, Doc. Did you set the coordinates for here?”

He frowned slightly and appeared taken aback. His hand tapped restlessly on the top of the console. “Heavens no.”

“But…” Tegan stepped around the console to approach him. He drew himself up to his full height as she approached. “There’s something else…”

“Tegan…”

She stopped next to him and stared up into his face. “But what?”

He rung his hands slightly and frowned. “Yes…well…there was a slight change in my habits last night. I had a dream.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“The dream was of here…of what went on last time….we were here…what we did…here.” The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck.

“Cripes, a sex dream?” Tegan had to lean back into the console; she felt a little unsteady.

“Memories of…” the Doctor swallowed and waved his hand in a rolling motion in the air and nodded. “Well…memories not fantasies, Tegan. Time Lord dreams usually are of problems or situations and in some cases, actual memories of the past…”

“It wasn’t about the dancing, I bet,” Tegan said quietly.

“No…it wasn’t.”

She sighed and shook her head slightly. The Doctor frowned and hummed and quickly reached out to twist a few knobs on the console. “Yes well…I think it’s time we move on…”

Her hand landed on his as she leaned across the metallic surface. He stilled, stared at his hand and then slowly raised his gaze to hers. “So you’re saying that you thought about here and had enough of an…emotional…”

“Psychological and physiological…” the Doctor said gruffly. “Not emotional.”

“….response that the TARDIS redirected us here to help you with it.”

“Rather putting a point on it, Tegan, but yes.”

She bit her lip and kept her hand on his. Her brown eyes appeared softer. “Maybe…”

“Tegan,” he interrupted. “You were quite right when you expressed the opinion that it would be better shorter-“

“And you said the opposite,’ Tegan argued. “You had wanted to stay, remember?”

“Staying and…making the decision to return are two different things,” he warned.

“The first one is easier, that’s all,” she responded tightly. “I was a mouth on legs…”

“You want to…” he began before he lowered his gaze and looked at the console.

“Let’s see Grady and Carol…we are in the right time for that, right?” Tegan offered. She took a deep breath and frowned. “Cripes, look…do you…”

He bit his lower lip and twisted from the console to grab his hat from the coat rack. “Let’s see what’s become of the place, shall we?”

**

The air was different this time. Last time there had been an air of excitement, or exotica when she had entered this place; this time it seemed less… exhilarating. Granted, she thought, the inevitable running and intrigue that always came with walking out of the TARDIS hadn’t begun yet, but the ambiance of the place felt less uncomfortable. Or maybe, she thought ruefully, it was just her feeling more at home.

Tegan stopped and breathed deeply. Her hands pushed up the sleeves of her sweater; she thought the blood red weave complemented the black of her trousers well. She was doubly pleased now and smiled. The plaster and marble of the ornate lobby was flushed with sunlight making the already brilliant white area appear ephemeral.

Her clothes were a shock of color in the lobby; she liked that idea; a shock for the Gallifreyans about in the building. Her smile had to be smug, she thought, at the image of several Gallifreyans collapsing in massive hearts failure.

The Doctor closed the door. “The Main Light…”

“Sir?”

Tegan twisted to stare at the woman that was approaching them across the lobby. Her heels clicked on the floor counting out a fast tempo as the girl walked. “Sir!”

“Hmm?” The Doctor whisked his hat off his head and bowed his head a little in greeting. “Yes, hello.”

“Sir, you simply cannot park your Time Capsule in the lobby. It isn’t done.”

“He does quite a lot that isn’t done and even more that’s downright illegal,” Tegan interjected. The Doctor sighed and tucked his chin, spearing her with a glance. Then he turned to the woman again.

“Yes, well…” the Doctor patted the side of the TARDIS and smiled. “We’ll only be here a short time. The moving of it would be a bit tricky…an old bit of technology…spanner in the works and whatnot.”

“Sir…”

“It shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” The Doctor breathed with a wide smile. “We shan’t be long.”

Tegan shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. She was ten feet from the TARDIS when the girl ran after her. “Excuse me, ma’am…I need your employer number…”

“I don’t have an employer number,” Tegan said through grit teeth. “Cripes, I’d forgotten this bit.”

The Doctor appeared at her arm and placed his hand lightly at Tegan’s back. “Tegan here is a free spirit, entity….ah…”

“Dorinda.”

“Yes, Dorinda. Tegan is a companion, not a hire, thank you.” With a wide smile, he nodded to the main desk where there were several people staring at them. “But we would like a suite of rooms for the night and a talk with your concierge if at all possible. “

The woman screwed up her face and appeared ready intiate an argument. It was something about working in a posh place that made the staff seem almost has haughty (if not more) than the patrons. Tegan opened her mouth to shout back and demand better treatment when the Doctor rolled his eyes heavenward and motioned to the DNA scanner attached to the woman’s belt.

“May I?”

He picked it up and stuck his thumb in the object. Almost immediately he winced and then gave a quick smile. Seconds later, the results flashed across the screen.

Dorinda’s mouth widened in a comical parody of an ‘O’ and she quickly began to punch codes into the communications device on one side of the clipboard. The Doctor rested back on the heels of his feet. Tegan crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him as the woman in front of them was a flurry of activity. “Proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Quite, if you must ask,” he responded good-naturedly.

Within a short couple of minutes, Dorinda stopped her agitated movements and smiled widely at them. “Lord President Theta Sigma, welcome…we were not expecting you…”

“It’s quite all right, Dorinda,” he soothed. Tegan was yet again amazed by how smooth he could be. “We weren’t quite expecting to be here ourselves. Pray tell me: what is the date?”

“Gallifreyan or – “

“Prime standard, please. We, Tegan and I, were going to see a couple of old friends…”

“It’s 701934.56,” she said quickly. The Doctor took a long deep breath and lowered his head. Tegan knew from his actions that they were either exceptionally too early or too late for Grady and Carol.

“Which way are we?”

“Hmm? Late, I’m afraid. Grady would have been dead for nearly a hundred years,” he said quietly, almost reverently. Dorinda studiously ignored the conversation and turned to a suited man hurrying across the gigantic hotel lobby.

“I’m sorry,” she offered.

“Never worry, Tegan,” he said just as quietly, but with a small smile on his lips. “I’m sure one of me will see him again. One of the problems with time travel…one often…the people you visit are often not born yet or dead. You humans have such short life spans, you know.”

“That’s it, blame it on Human again,” she scoffed. She softened the blow with a sigh. “It must be hard. I have a hard enough time not pestering you about seeing Nyssa again…I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”

“You miss seeing some people more than others…” he admitted. “But you always savor the time you spend with them so much more when you realize that it is…fleeting.”

“Sir!” The suited man came forward with a quick, clipped step. “I understand you are on your way out. Let us call you transport-“

“That won’t be necessary,” the Doctor sighed. “It seems I’ve missed my time mark.”

The concierge nodded sagely. “We have had that happen from time to time. I’ve been told that you require a suite of rooms. May I assure you that we have the best suite of rooms which we hold in reserve for distinguished guests such as yourself…”

“Well…” the Doctor began. He looked to Tegan and she knew he was considering leaving immediately. “Tegan?”

“We have one of the finest chefs from Gallifrey here on loan from the top resort on Gallifrey Beta. I understand that his work is simply to die for…or regenerate for…” The concierge laughed at his own joke. “And we do have musical entertainment…a soloist from Gallifrey Gamma…”

“Hmm…quite a taste from the Home Worlds, I take it,” the Doctor said with a slight smile. “Gallifrey without Gallifrey.”

“We pride ourselves on making our guests feel at home,” the concierge said quietly.

The Doctor kept his gaze locked with Tegan’s. “Oh, go on,” she urged with a sigh. “If you wanted to be gone, we’d have already left. We can work it out later. That chef sounds wonderful.”

“Are you sure-“

“They aren’t shooting at us yet, that has to be a good sign. And I could do with a spot of pampering.”

“Very well,” the Doctor confirmed to the concierge. “Book a suite please…opened ended on the length of stay?” At the man’s nod, he continued. “And my companion here, is that: a companion, a friend and if a level of treatment needs to be assigned to her, then classify her as a wendirna, please. She is not hired; I arrived with her and will be leaving with her.”

The woman’s eyes widened at the word. Tegan reached out and grabbed the Doctor’s arm; if he was going to classify her, she wanted to know what the bloody hell he was classifying her as. He simply patted her hand, however.

The concierge bowed slightly to both the Doctor and Tegan. “I see. I will see that that order is carried out, Lord President. Shall I have Dorinda show you to your suite?”

The Doctor nodded slightly and smiled. “Thank you for your attention to our comfort. And yes, that would be acceptable…” Tegan felt his hand at her back and she stepped smartly in front of him.

“What was that all about?”

“Tell you later…”

“Doc…”

“Dinner, Tegan?”

“I AM hungry,” she said with a slight sigh. “But, heaven forbid, no private rooms and no…lingerie, pretty as you please, shows. And for pity sake, none of that Gallifreyan dancing.”

“That is exactly why I told them that you are to be treated differently,” he confided. “Rassilon forbid we both have to go through that again.”

**

Just having some fiction fun

2006-12-01T15:55:59Z

This is a continuation of Trouble in Paradise. It will be rated anywhere between G and NC-17 depending on chapter, so I'm slapping a warning on the whole thing. The idea behind this was three fold. One: I love mad mad mad mad world. Two: I have fun with that relationship. Three: I love the idea and exploring acculturation.

Not that the explanation was needed or for any other purpose than I like to hear myself type: Here it is:

Disclaimer: It's all BBC.

Curves of a body seen under tight green shiny fabric. A flair of a hip…such long legs….lace up to….firm breasts, round….the material accentuating her movements…her sway…every minute small breath….

…naked stride…naked prone…her skin like cream…sound too…gasps…nerves…pleadings…prayers…constant movement satiating nothing…so hot….smooth…taking pleasure with minute pain…

Green dress….black negligee…skin…her lips on his chest…his lips on her stomach…the way she arched into him…her hips between his palms….

“Doctor…please…”

Her arching in the moonlight.

The Doctor sat up in bed, his respirations fast. His arms tensed to hold him upright on the bed and his muscles were tight. He puffed a few breaths and then frowned slowly. “That was unexpected…” he said quietly.

He narrowed his eyes. Time Lord dreams were like the rebooting of a computer; often they were based in reality, in memory. Who was the woman…

Tegan. Paradise Prime.

The Doctor took a deep breath: Paradise Prime indeed. He lay back on the bed and pulled up the sheet. Paradise Prime. Well, that certainly explained the shock of arousal he felt from the dream. He sighed: and it certainly dictated more time spent cooling the beginning of an erection.

He put his arms behind his head and frowned. His respirations were higher than normal; there was increased blood flow to his reproductive organs; his hearts were beating faster. Sexual arousal was indeed occurring.

“Simply will have to go away, won’t it?” He asked testily. With a sigh, he shifted and closed his eyes. “Yes, it will simply have to go away.”

**

The TARDIS was set on course for the future, a planet distant to both Gallifrey and Earth. It moved through four axes on a tangential curve towards destinations set down by 4 coordinates. Often it would adhere to what it was programmed to do…

…and other times, it would adjust to suit a purpose…its or others.

…but this time…it felt a level of distress and changed its programmed course to help alleviate the distress.

The coordinate panel changed slightly: destination: Paradise Prime.

Gathered (PG)

2006-10-20T00:13:28Z

Disclaimer: It's all Big Finish and BBC...heck...if I owned them...
Rating: PG for language.
Title: Gathered
Summary: The Doctor attempts to say good-bye at the end of "The Gathering"
Warning: Spoilers for The Gathering

“Reconsider, please?”

He was leaning against that box of his; his hands apparently comfortably situated in his pockets if one overlooked the tension in his arms and clenched fists in his pockets. Intense interest under the guise of nonchalance. It was the same as it had always been with him, but there was more to him…now. Something different. She could almost taste it. She wondered if that was part of the tumor: tasting differences and seeing flavors. His eyes were turned down, towards his feet…her feet, towards the gravel on the ground. Towards her landlord’s sorry excuse for a lawn, wasn’t his entire fault, though. After all, it was Queensland at the end of winter.

A breeze stirred his hair; her eyes followed the ruffling of his brown/blond hair. It was browner now; that wasn’t her imagination. The tumor might be affecting a great deal, but Tegan Jovanka knew her Doctor’s blond hair. He was getting older, she thought suddenly. But, she realized, his eyes were still the exact shade of the TARDIS’ blue paint.

Reconsider indeed.

“Doctor-“

“Please Tegan; reconsider. I might know someone who can help you; I can help you.”

“I don’t want alien technology in my head,” she said strongly, her voice as steady as she could manage. “You’re a friend, yeah, but you are…alien.”

“If it’s alien, it doesn’t belong in your head,” he argued. “It needs to be removed.”

“No.”

“Tegan.”

“No!” She shouted. She saw Mrs. Mullen for the next lawn glancing over the hedge. Didn’t bother her; the old woman needed something in her daily life. “No,” she said again, quieter. “No, Doc. I don’t want to try to change this; I want to enjoy, I want to be happy.”

“And you’ll be happy with him, with Michael, with this life?”

She gave a small laugh and held her hands wide. “What other life do I have? This is the one I chose.”

“You can unclose it, if you aren’t happy.” he stressed. “Tegan, you can live whatever life you choose.”

“And you think I’ll be happy being chased by aliens, saving worlds? You think I’ll be happy risking death everyday? I’m happy waking up everyday.”

“You’re alone.” He muttered. “No family. And Michael…will he give you the support you need?”

Tegan tensed her chin and jaw and narrowed her eyes. “Mike is sweet. But I wouldn’t rely on him to get me through this, I don’t want to rely on anyone- I loved him.”

“Past tense.” Tegan watched something flicker in the Doctor’s eyes. Something that she could only define as strength, but knew that that word fell short of what she saw there.

“I wouldn’t rely on anyone to get me through this. Who would know what I was going through? I couldn’t ask that of anyone. Not Mike, not my mother…”

“You can’t be alone!” He shouted. He bit his lip and his arms became even tenser. “You don’t know what it’s like to die alone. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

“You don’t-” She stopped. Crickey, she had forgotten…regeneration. Death and rebirth. He had gone through it many times before. If there were anyone on Earth that would know what she was going through, it would be him. Like a bloody Catch 22 situation, her life was. “Cripes.”

His gaze had centered on her. “Yes…it’s hard, Tegan.”

She swallowed.

“If you choose not to have it treated, Tegan, I understand. But don’t be alone. Come with me. Be with someone who cares about you, about what happens to you.”

“And dragging me across the Universe…”

“I could stay here.”

“Not in a million years.” Tegan frowned and glanced off towards the flat, the building. She laughed suddenly; the sound of it was flat and bitter to her ears. “You’d die first. And besides, you’d treat me like a victim.”

“I never treated you like a victim,” he nearly roared. “I wouldn’t want to and even if I did, you’d shout it out of me. What are you thinking, Tegan?” He quieted a little and settled back into his lean against the TARDIS.

“Mike does care about me.” Tegan said, her voice low.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. But this isn’t a conversation that I feel comfortable discussing with you, thank you very much.” She rubbed her arms and glanced at the door of the flat.

The Doctor shifted his weight. “I could take you to see everything you wanted, Tegan. I could give you a full life.”

Her gaze traveled back to him. “I’m happy here.”

“Are you?” He asked, his voice hoarse. When she paused for a deep breath, he pressed. “You love the Greeks, Tegan and Egypt. You’ve always wanted to go to Rome. I could take you to see it. I could take you to see it all. The Eye of Orion in its heyday. A place where the skies sing.”

“Doctor.”

“Tegan…” he sighed. “Please. I don’t want to leave you.”

“You’re not. I’m leaving you…again…”

The Doctor sighed and lowered his gaze. The wind ruffled his hair again, like a sigh from nature. She bit her lip; this was harder than she anticipated. He hadn’t argued with her when she had left previously, why now? “It’s guilt isn’t it?” She asked.

The Doctor puffed a breath and rolled his shoulders. “Maybe, Tegan, a little, but only a bloody little.” His gaze finally found hers again. “It’s more wanting you in one piece, healthy and happy and wanting you to travel with me again.”

“That’s a bit honest for you.”

“Quite,” he agreed.

“What about Peri and..what’s her name?”

“Erimem,” he supplied. “And they would accept you, Tegan…very well.”

She shook her head. “No…no…I have a life here, Doc.” She patted his arm. “Get in your box, get going, you. And think of me someday.” His muscles tensed under her hand but she ignored it. “Come here…” she said with a large measure of affection. He looked like she had killed his pet. She pressed her lips against the corner of his lips in a chaste, feather light kiss. With a smile, she reached up to brush her non-existent lipstick from his skin.

His eyes were so close to her that all she could see was the dark blue. They blinked, obscured by baby golden lashes for a moment and then opened again. Tegan felt his hands as they lightly rested on her hips. “I won’t forget you,” he muttered before taking a long inhale. She smiled in response and patted his shoulders.

The pain started at the back of her head and lanced like a hot poker through her head to her eyes. It was like a blinding light encased in pain. She gasped and raised her fingers to press against her temple.
Her grunt was met by a more powerful hold of the Doctor on her hips. “Tegan?”

Her knees buckled as the pain grew in intensity. Her knees never hit the ground, but the pain was too intense to know exactly what was happening. The light was too damn bright and the birds too damn loud. She could taste the pain…

**

The Doctor bent with Tegan. Her knees buckled and he instantly moved his hands to catch her about her waist and keep her from hitting the ground. “Tegan?”

Her eyes blinked and centered on his for a few seconds before her eyes rolled back in her head. His grip changed and he scooped his friend up in his arms. He couldn’t manage the door to the TARDIS with her in his arms; she was bound to have medication in the house. “A seizure,” he whispered. He bounced her higher in his arms as he made for her back door. The wooden portal gave under his shoulder; it hadn’t been properly closed when she had come out.

Above stair, he could hear movement. Michael, he thought. He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulder to settle Tegan’s head more firmly on his shoulder. “Michael!”

His shout brought the man to the head of the stairs. The Doctor was already half up the stairs, turned sidewise and climbing. “My God…what’s…”

“No time…” the Doctor responded. “Check her medications…the bathroom, counter….hurry. There should be an anti-convulsive.”

Michael gaped at the Doctor as he climbed. The Doctor rolled his eyes with a huff. “Now would be advisable.”

The Doctor turned a corner and entered a coolly colored bedroom: green with white curtains. The king bed in the middle of the room under two louver windows open to catch the morning breeze. He bent and put Tegan down gently on the mussed sheets. His olfactory senses detected the leftover smell of human sex and he sighed. “Michael!”

The young man ran around the corner and thrust containers that he had found towards the Doctor. They clattered on the bed. “Is she-“

“She’ll be all right. It’s a seizure,” the Doctor reassured. He looked at the containers of meds and frowned. “None of these is an anti-convulsive,” he muttered. “Well, then…” He sat down on the side of the bed, moving the containers out of the way with a hasty hand. Tegan’s eyes were closed, and her hand lay on her chest. The Time Lord shrugged out of his coat and laid it over his friend with a deliberate movement and covered her from the late winter morning.

“Hmm.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Michael’s voice was slightly shrill; the Doctor ignored him. He changed his stance on the bed and felt about Tegan’s neck, opened her eyes with careful fingers.

“No anti-convulsive…oh Tegan,” he sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Michael demanded again.

The Doctor glanced at him in anger. “No anti-convulsive, Mr. Tanaka. And Tegan is having an epileptic seizure.”

“You mean a fit?”

“A tonic-clonic seizure is more like it,” the Doctor clarified. “And she has no anti-convulsive.” He frowned and then shook his head with a sigh. “Think, man! If she is having a seizure, has no medication for them and has been in care- it means it’s a new and more serious symptom…”

“She’s getting worse?”

“Yes.” The Doctor leaned forward and cushioned her head.

“And this fit-“

“Seizure.”

“Yeah, how long will it last?”

“That depends on some factors,” the Doctor frowned. He sat back on the bed. “Did she get much sleep last night?”

Michael took a step towards the Doctor. The Time Lord blandly stared at him, although he could feel the threat in the way the man was walking, the way he was standing. What was it about humans that made them feel that any discussion of their sexual actions was a personal attack? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did she get eight hours, four hours, none?”

Michael released a long breath. “I don’t know…maybe four hours. We were a bit busy.”

“Yes.” The Doctor drew out the word and frowned. What was it about human sexual discussions that made him feel uneasy? “Well…given her activity last night, the tumor and her sleep amount or lack thereof…she’ll probably sleep for a few hours.”

“And?” Michael looked, to the Doctor’s well-tuned eyes, to be beside himself.

“Yes, well….there’s very little to do but let her sleep and wake up on her own.”

**

Tegan slowly blinked her eyes open. It was recognizable, her room, but it was dim. Funny that, she remembered saying goodbye to the Doctor; it had been morning. Ah, she thought, as she inhaled: rain, that’s why it’s dark. She could smell the raindrops, felt the calming influence of the drops. The cover was a bit sodden though. She stretched and frowned; she hadn’t remembered going back to bed.

“Tegan?”

A hoarse familiar voice that she had thought she had said good-bye to: the Doctor. She braced her arms and tried to sit up. “Doctor?” She asked and winced. Hs cool hand slid under her neck as he appeared at her side of the bed.

“Yes,” he replied in his low voice and eased her into a sitting position. “Welcome back. Nice of you to join us.” He gently handed her a glass of water. “Sip slowly and tell me how you feel.”

“What the hell are you still doing here?” She responded instead. She sipped from the lukewarm glass. “I thought we said goodbye.”

“I found it hard to leave when an old friend crumples in my arms and undergoes an epileptic seizure.” He responded hoarsely. The bed shifted and the room lightened a bit. He had opened the curtains. In he dim light, she saw him settle back on the bed and gaze at her face. “Enough avoidance; how do you feel?”

“A seizure?” She forced out, still not answering his question. “That’s never happened before.”

“No, no…I’d guessed it hadn’t. Headache?”

“No.”

“Nausea?”

“No. Where’s Michael?” She asked, slightly subdued.

“Watching telly. Pains in the neck?”

“No.”

“Hmmm.” The Doctor smiled slightly. “Good.”

Tegan rested back against the pillow and what she realized it was his coat as well. “What does it mean when…that happens?”

“Disruption of brains’ normal functioning. Influx of – “

“I mean,” she said, fighting against her anger. “…with the tumor.”

“A guess?” He asked as he puffed a breath. He shifted uncomfortably. “It might be growing.”

Tegan closed her eyes. Cath had mentioned that seizures would more then likely occur as the tumor grew. The next station would be paralysis, severe personality changes, and vision impairment. Her hands tightened on the bed covers; she took a deep breath. The feeling of cornered panic rose in her gut. The last person she wanted to see her have a panic attack was the Doctor.

“I’d like to be alone,” she tried to say calmly.

“I don’t care.” His voice was low, confrontational.

Anger presented and offered itself as a block to the panic: an emotional sacrificial lamb. She felt her hands tighten into fists. “Too fucking bad. Leave.”

“You hadn’t anticipated it occurring so soon, did you?” The Doctor ignored her outburst and plea. “Hmm? The worsening of symptoms.” She didn’t answer; she apparently didn’t need to. His gaze watched her intently. After a second, he nodded. “I thought so.”

She blinked. “Look, I’ve had a year to come to terms with this.”

“And that means that you are perfectly prepared,” he stressed. She could tell a change in his tone now than earlier that day; he wasn’t coddling her. It was a tone he had always used with a mad man to corner him with logic. She wondered if she had a hope. He leaned forward on the bed, his hands relaxed in a fold on his lap. Her gaze fell to them and then she saw one rise to raise her chin to meet his gaze. “You don’t want alien technology to fix it. Understandable, Tegan, but what if I were to take you to Earth’s future and get you human help?”

She began to shake her head and he tucked his chin a little to continue to meet her gaze. Outside, the rain tempo increased and grew louder and louder.

“You’re scared, Tegan and rightly so. Michael’s beside himself and I’m-” He stopped and glanced down for a breath.

“What happens if I die out there?” Tegan rasped out. “What happens if you can’t get to the future and I die?”

The Doctor’s gaze came back up to hers. She continued. “Doctor, you can’t find your way out of a paper bag half the time and the other half of the time you’re confused as to whether you are actually in a paper bag-“

“If I can’t get you help quickly, I’ll bring you back.” He said lowly.

“But what if I die?” She stressed. “In the TARDIS with you.”

He took a long breath. “I won’t let that happen,” he said slowly and deliberately. Then he smiled suddenly. “And if we get you help and you are healed, you can proclaim it a miracle.”

She exploded in a laugh and his smile widened and became lopsided in response. Her laughter died away equally as quickly and left a vacuum of silence that the rain tried to fill. “Miracle indeed,” she joked.

“Support someone’s faith, I always say,” he agreed.

Life is life is life. I’ve lived a full life; I’ve fought for life of others of myself. Why aren’t I fighting this more? I want to fight, don’t I? Why don’t I want to? This isn’t alien…its human…Not a promise of help, but a possibility. I’m not leaving behind anyone…except Michael and the Doctor…

“Michael…” she breathed.

The Doctor nodded. “He cares a great deal for you. He wants to help you; the decision has to be yours, however. You, if you do it, have to do it for you-“

“Then why are you pushing this so hard?”

“To give you the choice…and…” He patted his thighs with agitated hands. “Because I’m a feeling individual as well as a thinking one,” he stated.

“How can he come along,” Tegan whispered. “I want my life to be normal here…not a discussion of what the travels were.”

“You’re afraid for him.”

“Yes.”

The Doctor nodded. “I won’t force you either way.” His hand cupped her chin again. “But please fight this, Tegan…with the tools that are given you. If you won’t take him, then…”

“I need time to think,” she said. “And I’m bloody tired.” She pleaded with her eyes and he nodded solemnly.

**

As kitchens went, it was not out of the ordinary. Small but useful, the room was just large enough for all the utilities and a little table with two chairs against the wall. With the Doctor comfortably seated in one of the metallic chairs, and Michael walking around the kitchen, there was barely any room for anything else.

Michael knew his way around Tegan’s kitchen. The Doctor sipped his tea and crossed his legs as he watched the man bustle around the counter space. “How long did Tegan travel with you?”

The Doctor lowered the mug from his lips and raised his eyebrows. “Too long, I suppose.” Michael turned and leaned against the counter and speared the reclined Time Lord with a stare. The Doctor looked a little chagrinned and lowered the mug to the table. “Ah, a direct answer. Let me ask you, Mr. Tanaka: how long have you known our Miss Jovanka?”

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. “Five years.”

The Doctor nodded and leaned forward on the table. His hand looped loosely over the mug. “In Terran terms…classic time…” he added when he saw the look of disbelief on the man’s face. “She traveled with me about three years. In absolute time…it would approximate 10 years.”

The man blew out a long breath. “A long time.”

“A very long time,” the Doctor replied with a nod and a sigh. “She became…” He stopped and glanced up at the man again before he settled back in his chair and crossed his legs again. “Yes, well, it was a very long time.”

“Were you lovers?”

The Doctor’s eyes opened wide and he tensed. “No.”

“No.” Tegan echoed from the door. Michael uncrossed his arms and glanced at door. Tegan, tussled and looking tired, stood in the door with her arms at her side. She glanced between Michael and the Doctor before staring at her boyfriend. “No, Michael, we weren’t and aren’t.”

“Yes,” the Doctor agreed with Tegan. Her eyes centered on the Doctor and he shifted in his chair; he felt distinctly uncomfortable.

“But you were close.” Michael stated.

“You sound disappointed,” the Doctor joked quietly. He lowered his eyes to the cup and heard Tegan laugh in response to his comment.

“We were close, are close…” Tegan said when the giggle died away. “Very close, but lovers…no.”

Michael nodded slowly and his gaze centered on the Time Lord. “I see.” The Doctor shifted again and offered a small, tightlipped smile to the man.

“I hope you do, Michael, because it’s the truth,” Tegan continued. She entered the room and headed for the open chair. The Doctor sat up straight and drew his legs under the chair as she sat. Tegan, as he always remembered, didn’t beat around the proverbial bush. She nodded to Michael and continued. “And you’ll have to have faith in him.”

“What?”

The Doctor felt a smile tugging at his lips and a feeling of relief flooded his mind. His muscles eased in their tension before he interjected: “You’ve decided?”

“Decided what?” Michael’s eyes darted from Tegan to the Doctor and back to his girlfriend.

Tegan’s lips softened into a wide smile that showed her white teeth. “I’m going to fight this tumor.”

“But I thought that doctor friend of yours, Cath…I thought she couldn’t…and I thought that you didn’t want him to help you?” Michael had hooked a thumb of his shoulder towards the Doctor. For his part, the Doctor remained almost motionless, his finger slowly tracing the handle of the mug. He could practically feel the tension palpitating off of the man.

“I didn’t..don’t…want him to heal me. If he did, it would be no different than what probably caused it and damn if I want an alien in my head again…no offense, Doc.” Tegan sighed. “But he can take me to the future of Earth for treatment.”

Michael’s gaze shot to the Doctor. The Time Lord shifted his gaze up to the man’s. “And you can definitely get her healed?”

“I don’t anticipate that finding her help will be too hard,” the Doctor said honestly. “And if we go enough into the future, a cure should…will…be found.”

She nodded to the Doctor and he saw the familiar strength he had despaired of seeing again. He warmed with relief. “Take me then. You’re right,” she said with a laugh. “I do want to fight this with everything I can. I want to live and be with those that I care about a lot longer than a year. Yeah, don’t look at me like that…I am telling you that you are right. Yes, I feel fine before you ask.”

The Doctor smiled with a silent laugh. “How soon do you want to go, Tegan?”

“Wait…” Michael interrupted. “You aren’t going with him alone, are you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“But-” Michael straightened up away from the counter and gripped the edge of it so hard that his knuckles whitened. “You said before he had a hard time getting you back.”

“I won’t this time.” The Doctor defended. His hand left the mug completely.

“I’ll be fine, Mike.” Tegan argued.

“I want to come with you,” Michael stressed. “In case you need me.”

“I need you to stay,” Tegan said as she leaned forward on the table. “Please. I need something to come back to that’s normal…I need that more than you holding my hand while this goes on…”

“But what if he does something-” Michael nearly yelled.

“If I WHAT?” The Doctor said incredulously. His temper was piqued and he was agitated. He lifted a hand to brush at his bottom lip. “I would never do anything to harm Tegan.”

“Just being with you harms her, you bloody bastard!” Michael shouted.

“Michael!” Tegan shouted back.

Silence fell over the kitchen for a space as the three occupants breathed. The Doctor felt on familiar ground: Tegan arguing and shouting. “You may be right,” he said solemnly. “I can’t argue that there is a definite impact on Tegan from traveling with me. But I’m offering to rectify that blight. It’s her decision.”

“Very big of you,” Michael muttered. “Tegan…I want you well…but…”

“Then let me go…” Tegan stated quietly. “I’ll come back. I promise. Or I’ll kill him.”

The Doctor nodded firmly. “Don’t doubt that she will do that,” he reassured.

Michael lowered his head. “You always have to be in bloody control, Tegan…”

“It’s my life…I have a right to want to be in control,” Tegan said. She lowered her chin to try and meet his eyes. “I know I can always be so I will try to be in control of what I can. Besides, Mike…who would run the business while I’m gone?”

Michael didn’t answer and Tegan’s gaze met the Doctor’s. “I’ll pack a small satchel and come out to the TARDIS in a little bit, Doc. Can you…” She flickered her gaze to Michael. The Doctor sighed; this was not a conversation he needed to be a part of and had known that before she had alluded to it. He cleared his throat and rose from the chair. The basin looked to be the best place for his errant mug and he settled it into its porcelain embrace.

“Yes, well…I’d best go…” he muttered and sidled out of the room. As he stepped into the den, he glanced back to see Tegan in Michael’s embrace and the man looked extremely upset. Yes, this was not a place he needed to be. He’d wait for Tegan in the garden or TARDIS.

**

His embrace was as she remembered. That coupled with the gently, cloud filtered sunlight that poured in through the window made her feel warm and comfortable and warm. This had to be what love was all about, she thought suddenly. It felt like a warm drawn blanket to curl up in a rainy day. She had had one, she remembered, in her childhood home. Her place where she had imagined herself as a traveler while reading books: her window seat. And Michael was the fluffy blanket. “I’ll be back and well.”

Michael’s chin lowered to her shoulder. “I want a promise from you, Tegan.”

She nodded into his shoulder. “I’ll promise what I can, if I can…” she replied honestly. “I do love you, you know, Michael.”

“Then marry me.”

Tegan moved her head back from his body and met his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I love you,” he said simply.

Tegan took a deep breath and met his eyes. “All right…” she whispered. “Yes. When I come back, I’ll marry you.” She felt out of body, light headed and in need of support. That caused her to straighten her back; it wasn’t the time or place to feel that way. She smiled widely and patted her lover’s shoulders. “I promise.”

Destined: Gilded Sword

2006-10-08T23:18:10Z

“Anywhere but my home.”

The Doctor frowned. “Could you be a bit more specific, Turlough?” He leaned on the console and flicked several switches. The central column was rising and falling uninterrupted; there were no problems with the internal systems or the real world interface. The White Guardian had been true to his word; the Doctor was thankful: as he had told Turlough, Guardians weren’t to be trusted. But in this, in the return of the TARDIS after the soiree with the Eternals, his wishes had been granted.

“How specific do you need me to be?”

With a sigh and a tired lift of his head, the Doctor speared the young man with a weary pointed stare. “Is there a particular reason I shouldn’t be near Trion? I should know whether to be in the area…or time…at the very least, Turlough.”

Turlough pulled at his necktie viciously until it lay in two straight pieces of silk against his youthful chest. When that wasn’t good enough, he pulled it from his neck completely and slapped it down on the console.

“Interesting.”

“It’s complicated.”

The Doctor glanced at the tie and then met Turlough’s eyes. “Yes, I had gathered that. The tie was a slight indication. It was innocent, you know.”

Turlough huffed and then took a deep breath. The gaze that met the Doctor’s was steely blue and couldn’t quite hold the Time Lord’s gaze for long. On the Doctor’s part, he bit his lip and stood tall from the console. His fingers tapped out a lost rhythm on the metallic surface of the instrument panel. After a minute, he leaned on the surface and redistributed his weight and shifted his hips and feet. “You don’t want to go home, do you?”

Turlough frowned in a way that made his lips become a thin white line. He picked up his tie and slung it across his neck. He began to rethread the tie through his collar. He leveled a hesitant glance at the Doctor.

“Hmmm,” the Doctor grunted. “Time for a conversation, Turlough.”

The boy appeared ill at ease; he didn’t wear it well. His weight redistributed as his feet shuffled uneasily until, suddenly, the Doctor could tell, he realized that he was acting in a revealing manner. He seemed to suddenly calm and put his hands on the console to mirror the Doctor’s stance.

“Do you want to go home, Turlough?”

After staring at the Time Lord for several minutes, Turlough shook his head decisively. “No. Not immediately.”

“That was the whole plan with the Guardian, wasn’t it? I offered you the same outcome that the Guardian did without the annoying ties he was offering. His plan was to get you…” The Doctor leaned forward on the console and shifted his feet. “He get you off of Earth and return you home and-“

“Get me off of Earth.” Turlough’s blue eyes sparkled clear ice and sky as he slid his hands in his pockets. “I never expected a clear return to Trion.”

“Hmm.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do believe you. It shows that you have the intellectual power of a Trion.” The Doctor stretched his legs and sighed. “Dealing with Guardians is all about strategy.”

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow and slid his hand into his pocket as he stood to his full height again. Turlough kept his gaze averted until he finished fiddling with his tie. “Do you want me removed?” The boy said the words low and tiredly, as if he expected the answer already.

“No.”

Turlough slid his hands into his pockets and mirrored the Doctor’s stance almost perfectly. “Do you trust me?”

“Completely, no. Am I willing to? Yes.”

With a deep sigh that moved his shoulders and chest, the boy closed his eyes. “Do you think I’ll harm Tegan?”

“She’s one part that is keeping me from trusting you completely.” The Doctor shifted his weight and tapped a couple of switches. “I realize there is no logical reason for you to harm her now, but I will let it be known: I won’t allow her to be harmed.”

Turlough lifted an eyebrow and then followed the movement with opening his eyes. “Since we’re being brutally honest…”

“You want to see something of the Universe….since this is a time machine…” The Doctor nodded and typed out a series of orders on the console. “Very well…” He patted his hand on the metallic surface and began to walk towards the interior door.

Turlough turned, apparently confused, to watch the Doctor’s progress. “Just like that? Just like that, you’ll give me sanctuary and let me travel with you?”

The Doctor stopped with his hand on the door and bestowed a wide boyish smile at his new companion. “Hmm, yes? But whether this turns out to be a good adventure, if we turn out to be cordial or not…is entirely up to you.” Then he pulled open the door and disappeared into the interior corridor.

**

She had ended up in the Garden room. After the archaic far advanced representation of the tall ship spaceships, she found she had needed something. The bedroom had only showed her the same: a vision of a planet over old-fashioned furnishings. The cloister room was a crumbling mass of stonework with the low constant hum of the TARDIS engines all around. So after several minutes, she pushed open the door to the Garden Room and found what she hadn’t been sure she wanted.

The Garden room was quiet except for a strange bird call from overhead; there was no hum of engines. Once away from the door, it looked like any conservatory on Earth. Terran and beautiful Gallifreyan flowers bloomed and supplied heavenly aroma to the air around her as she moved with no rhyme or rhythm through the leaves and vines. Her fingers brushed the life and grounded her.

“Tegan.”

Thete’s voice was low and easy, a rumbled collection of syllables. The voice was familiar, but the tone of it was…different…

She turned and moved leaves away from her face. The Doctor stood ten yards away. Amidst the greenery, he looked…at home. His hair was dark in the shade; his hands were familiarly in his pockets. His coat was gone; his shirt cuffs were unbuttoned and folded over his sweater and pushed to his elbows. His cricket pants had seen better days.

“Tegan?”

“I needed this,” she said simply. “Rabbits, I couldn’t take any more mingling of technology and my own history. I needed something that was…that hadn’t…changed.”

“Hmm,” he replied in quiet measured tones.

“Are we taking Turlough home?”

“Not immediately, no,” the Doctor’s voice continued in the same tone that she couldn’t quite recognize.

“Why on Earth are you letting him stay? He’s admitted to wanting to harm you.”

“He has,” the Doctor agreed as he stopped in front of her and moved the greenery between them so that their sight of each other was unimpeded. “But he won’t, Tegan. That’s over.”

“You trust him?” Tegan asked incredulously. “Hell’s teeth, Thete…”

“I don’t trust him; at least, not entirely.” He tilted his head down to gaze at her. “His threat is minimized, Tegan. We’ll be okay.” He sighed. “Remember London, Tegan? With Sarah and Smith?”

She nodded. “What’s that got to do with him staying?”

“The books…”

Tegan frowned. “Lord, you’ve looked him up?”

The Doctor slowly nodded. “I have.”

“And?”

“Hmm…” Thete shook his head slowly. “Like asking Jehovah for the hour of your death.”

“Get off it…” she said with a rumble. “You’re far from a God and you brought it up.”

“True,” he responded. “He travels, Tegan…its all that can explain the circumstance of his life. Don’t ask what it is or what it becomes.”

With a feeling of righteous anger she hadn’t had in at least a day, she narrowed her eyes. “So you have the knowledge, but…”

He sighed and shook his head. “Tegan…do you want the knowledge…do you want to know what happens…who lives, who dies? Do you want that knowledge?”

“Why should you have to shoulder it all?”

“Because…” he said quietly, forcibly. “I’m a Time Lord. Because if I do this…if I travel like this…I have to know. I have to know who lives and who dies, Tegan.”

“But you said that it didn’t matter…” she swallowed hard on the word. “Cripes, that it wasn’t all that important in most of the situations we find ourselves in…CIA or not.”

She lowered her gaze. And he sighed. “No…it isn’t. But in this case it is…”

“So he travels with us.” She closed her eyes and then stared at him.

“Yes, as far as I can tell.”

“It’s not safe.”

“Tegan…”

“I don’t trust him…at all…” She ground out. “I can’t forgive him for the prick in the spacesuit or for what he attempted to do to you…”

“I haven’t either.” Tegan could see him swallow hard; his eyes darkened. She lowered her gaze to look at her hand. One of the leaves from the gardenia bush was resting against the back of her hand. It was ticklish and soft. The Doctor’s hand came up under hers and his palm pressed against hers. His cool fingers wrapped around wrist and thumb.

“How do you feel after your emotion projection?” He asked suddenly. His other hand tilted back her chin so he could see her eyes. “Tegan?”

“Like I had pushed out all there was to me.” She growled out the words, “but it was the only thing I could do to unbalance them, wasn’t it? Did it work as well as I thought it did? How the hell did I do that?”

“You are a human empath with the ability to push your emotions. I’ve known that for a while…” He tilted her head to the side and squinted. “Have you had headaches or…”

“None. It’s only been a few hours, Thete.”

“Hmm,” he sighed.

“Will I always be able to do that?” She asked as his eyes continued to search hers.

“Yes and probably increase in the ability.”

She smiled widely and he gave a little smile in return. “Once on Earth it won’t matter, braveheart, most humans cannot sense other people’s emotions.”

“Rabbits.”

He lowered his hand from her chin and inclined his head towards hers. “Tegan, there’s something else about which we need to talk…”

She raised her gaze to his and her stomach clenched; she knew exactly to what he was referring and she didn’t really want to talk about it. “ It was Mariner that read your mind. Cripes, you didn’t…you don’t…even know what it is….what it means…he said so…”

“But it’s a gilded sword,” the Doctor whispered. “And it can’t be resheathed. If you didn’t believe that I don’t know what it means, you wouldn’t have hidden in here away from me.”

She blinked and tried to take a step back. “Cripes, that’s-“

“Exactly what is happening,” he interrupted and his other hand slid out of his pocket to slip behind her elbow.

She shook her head.

“Tegan...” His hand slid higher on her arm, like a cool restraint and pulled her closer to him. He didn’t say any more; there was no need. She took a long breath, but at the end of it, his hand was gently against her cheek, his other arm slid gently around her waist. The gentle pull of his arms brought her against his chest easily.

When she opened her mouth, he sighed and leaned his face down towards hers. His nose nuzzled hers and then, in an infinitely slow and deliberately sweet manner, he chastely pressed a light kiss against her lips. She took a shaky breath against his lips and then returned the kiss, but with a measure of need.

Her lips enclosed his lower one and she lightly sucked on the cool skin. Then they drew apart, mere centimeters, but it was enough to talk.

His hands buried in her hair and held her face still, lovingly still. “I felt the pain too, Tegan. That pain that you projected out on the Eternals. I felt it all. There’s so much of it in you. And I felt…elation…after that…happiness and…”

Her long hard exhale brought a tear to her eyes. She lifted her hand and wiped the tear from her cheek in a slightly angered move. His palms cupped her cheeks. “You’ve known what Mariner told you, Tegan. You’ve known that for some time. Don’t run from me because an Eternal has put a definition to the feeling.”

“Thete.” Tegan could tell he was slightly angry. “I don’t want to…”

“Hmm?”

“You said it was what your father ran from…” Tegan took a step back, putting distance in between them that would only take the Doctor reaching across the space to take away again. She didn’t know why she did it; she only knew that this scared her. It scared her more than the men in her past; it scared her more than caring for him. For this man, this Time Lord, to care for her in that way, to admit that he had deep affection…love…for her (even if it were only her giving the definition), it meant that the feeling was pure, that it was…hers.

Hers. She knew: he might use information; he might use action to manipulate, but never this. It made him too vulnerable. It made him too open to her, too open to another. No, that wasn’t an option; it wasn’t manipulative. No, if it had been, she wouldn’t be as unbalanced. No, it was because it meant that he loved her, purely, wholly, without question. It wouldn’t have been for what she did, what she wore, or what she could do for him. He loved her for her, because of her.

“He ran.” The Doctor said with a nod as his hand reached out to her. “I won’t. Nothing has changed; nothing will change. Tegan…”

She took a deep breath. “Hell’s teeth. I don’t want you to scare me. We’ve been through that already.” She turned away from him and walked through the leaves towards the small wall fountain. The splash of the droplets on her skin was cool and gentled her agitation. The sound was soothing as well. “Hell, Thete…”

The Doctor had stopped five feet behind her. She could hear the thud of his hands against his thigh as they fell to his side. “You don’t want to hear…” he said quietly, harshly. “Tegan…”

She turned quickly as he stepped to her. “I don’t know how to handle it, thank you very much.”

“And you think I do? Rassilon, what experience do you think I’m drawing on here, hmm?” His voice was hoarse; his eyebrows arched over his eyes. “Tegan, I’ve never felt this way; I don’t know what words to give it… You think I’m an expert?”

“No,” she said quietly with a slight shake of her head. “No. I know you aren’t. Hell, you’re less likely than I am…”

“Quite right.”

He took the four steps to her and took her hands. She was surprised when he laid her hands flat against his chest. She took a step back in response and found her back against the cool tile. He continued forward until his body was against hers. He tilted her head back with a gentle finger under her chin. His blue eyes were so deep, so wonderfully honest, and she saw and felt no threat in them. “Yes, well…since we’re both in a study of the situation…” he said with a slight humorous lilt to his voice. “I think we should admit that neither one of us knows anything about it and admit that we have to learn…together.”

She laughed suddenly. “The blind leading the blind; sounds like us.”

He smiled indulgently in response. His hands cupped her neck and cheeks and he tilted his head slightly to the side; it was endearing. “Why are we fighting about this?”

“Because…” Tegan took a deep breath. She pouted a frown and blinked up at him. At the angle of his face, the light caused shadows in his normally clear blue eyes. “Oh, Christ…I don’t know…” She shook her head slightly. “Because we’re us?”

“Astute.” He rumbled quietly.

“And nothing has to change?”

He shook his head slightly and lifted one eyebrow. “Do you think that because an Eternal muttered something that you already knew…something should change?” He pursed his lips. “Hmm? You knew all those things. The only thing that did change was that Mariner called it by a name familiar to you. Nothing has to change between us. I would prefer if it wouldn’t. Having those words said is more than enough change for me, Tegan.”

She smiled widely in response. And he suddenly chuckled. “It feels…relieving…I suppose that’s a good word…to have the definition given. I didn’t realize that there was any…” He frowned. “That there was any pressure there. But now that it’s gone…it must have just been there for some time.”

“How long was it there?” Tegan asked teasingly, coyly. “The pressure.”

His gaze grew intense. “It feels like forever.”

**

Have a fic for whochick

2006-09-25T00:54:46Z

It's here:

Tiny Dancer

Enlighten(end)

2006-09-20T17:18:59Z

“Are you sure this will work?”

The Doctor looked over the top of his glasses at Turlough. “Oh, yes. I do excel in making things go awry. Ask my professors at the Academy.” He returned his gaze to the wiring. “You see the red wire and the green wire? This is really quite simple. Those are not to be crossed.”

“And you’ve crossed them?” Turlough nodded.

“Exactly, but they will not come into contact until an electric pulse is sent through this black wire.” He tapped it. “At that point, a short will burn through the wire and allow the red and green wires to come into contact with one another. As Tegan would put it…at that time, zap.”

“That will destroy this ship and the weapon.”

“Yes.”

“What about the crew on board? What about the winner of this race? We may stop Wrack, but at the exact price that she was exacting on the rest of the fleet? Does that make us any better?”

“This will only explode if they use it on another,” the Doctor explained. “But yes, we do have to stop them from winning…any of them. This race…this is all the Black Guardian’s doing. No winner can be allowed.”

“And what….how do you plan to accomplish that?”

The Doctor took off his glasses and rose to face Turlough. The boy wasn’t sure he liked the grin on the Time Lord’s lips. “Do you fancy yourself a good chess player, Turlough?”

“Rassilonian, Typrion or Terran?”

“Yes.”

“Splendid!” The Doctor clapped his hands together. “Then you know the move that is to be made when the Queen’s bishop and rook have the King in check, don’t you?”

Turlough winced and rubbed his head. “Dead man’s dance?”

“I always rather liked the waltz myself,” the Doctor confided as he put his glasses in his breast pocket.

Turlough shook his head and rubbed his lips. “It might work.”

“It will work,” the Doctor confided as he strode for the door, clapping and clasping Turlough’s shoulder as he walked by. “And the most excellent thing is: the enemy might know what you are attempting, but the waltz places every move into checkmate.”

“We just have to believe-“

“That they are currently in the scenario,” the Doctor agreed. “And I do, Turlough. So…shall we join the party?”

**

Tegan turned from the door and Mariner and stumbled back across the room towards the interior door. She had to get out of this room; she had to get to the launch. She could think out there. What Mariner had said had shattered her mind and direction; she had to get somewhere she could think. She hoisted the hem of her dress and began to jog to the entrance. Eternals stepped back; Mariner followed her with all the intensity of a man who was drowning and she was the lifejacket.

“Leave me…” she said quietly, with some heat but with dignity.

The door opened outward.

“Was it something I said, Tegan?”

The Doctor’s voice was calm and cool like water in a lake…like the familiar thing. The hands that closed on her shoulders were equally familiar but viewed with clarity of sight that was new. It felt different; it felt strange; it felt right. The part of her that wanted to run suddenly wanted her to stop and simply think about what had changed in her Universe. The reality of it was that nothing had changed, but that it felt different. “Tegan?”

She blinked up at him and lifted an eyebrow, glanced at the boy behind him. “Have you heard his confession yet?” She asked sarcastically. It was all she could think to say.

“Hmmm,” the Doctor said with a frown. “Situations have changed, Tegan.”

As he took her hand and faced the room full of Eternals, she whispered quietly: “I’ll say.”

The Doctor stopped at the buffet table and perused the vegetables, in particular the celery, and picked a crispy stalk. She watched as he replaced his celery as another gentleman would replace a flower in his buttonhole. “Thete?” She whispered.

He glanced down at her for a moment and then stared over at Mariner. Turlough appeared at her other shoulder. Something had changed; she felt less in jeopardy with the young Trion than previously.

“Yes, well…we should be tottling along back to the Shadow,” he said steadily. “Turlough, Tegan, thank our hosts, but we need to be getting Mariner back to his post.”

“So soon?”

Wrack’s voice was heavy with accent and dripping with interest. It made Tegan’s skin crawl and she shivered. The Doctor’s hand squeezed hers and she relaxed slightly. She was very thankful of his tall form; it felt like he was a tide break in a sea.

“Did anyone try and enter her mind?” The Doctor pressed Mariner. The proper British officer straightened his back in what to Tegan seemed an exaggerated manner. His hand had lessened its grip in hers and slid to cup and hold her shoulder. “Did they succeed?”

“They tried and failed.” Mariner’s back was ramrod straight. “I gave my word.”

“So soon?” The Doctor said quietly as he addressed Wrack. “I’m assured that your hospitality has been the pinnacle of excellence, but-“

Wrack waved her hand. “I quite understand returning to post. Will you need a launch called? I can see that you don’t. But you’ll be escorted to the landing area and I’ll have a package for Striker.”

Tegan was brought against the Doctor’s flank and his arm wrapped about her waist. With a short nod, the Doctor glanced at Mariner. Tegan was feeling weaker with both Eternals in close proximity. By the time they had turned to walk from the room, the Doctor was mostly supporting her.

**

His hands were on her hips and then around her waist, but she could barely tell where her feet were until she was set apart once they were upon the launch. She stumbled to the front of the launch as the rest came aboard and milled about. At the last minute, she realized that Turlough was not among them.

“Where-“

“He’s staying behind, Tegan.” The Doctor said as he strolled from the door to look out the starboard side towards the larger ship. “In order to have the Dead Man’s Dance, we have to have a gauntlet.”

“A glove?”

“Gauntlet,” the Doctor stressed, “a pressure between two sides to make the enemy take a predetermined course of the defenders choice. Turlough is our home man; we’re the offensive arm.” He smiled. “Chess, my dear.”

“You’re going to trust him?”

“Yes,” the Doctor said with raised eyebrows. “I rather do. It’ll work.”

Tegan frowned and eyed up Mariner. She wasn’t frightened of him, but now that the Doctor was back, she wanted to be near him. But there was something different about Thete. He didn’t look any different, rather, he looked the same, but she was seeing him through a different filter.

She must have been staring for quite a long time because the Doctor turned his attention to her. With a slow gait, he walked around the center console and joined her. “We should sit, Tegan; the launch will leave in a second.”

“Wrack has hidden something with us,” Tegan said quietly. “I know she has.”

“Something about the size of my thumb I would guess,” Thete sighed. “Undoubtedly, she would send Striker an object of death, yes.”

“Rabbits and we’re just taking it back with us then?”

“To the ship and then we’ll toss it over.”

She frowned and squinted at him. “That’s a bit chancy, isn’t it? She could blow it up before you get it away. Why take the chance?”

“To put her into a no win situation where she’ll have to run our gauntlet. Trust me, Tegan.” The Doctor put his arm over her shoulders as the launch pulled away from the larger ship.

“Hmmm,” she breathed. She could feel his breath on her neck, cool and steady. His hand curled in her shoulder and held her steadily against his flank, her shoulder and back against his chest. A sole finger brushed back a curl that rested against the nape of her neck.

“Tegan?”

She glanced over her shoulder at his earnest face, blue eyes shining with gold flecks and ivory icicles. He searched her eyes for a moment and then sighed, tucking his chin. “What did Mariner say, hmm?”

Tegan had never been one to back down from a situation or from a confrontation, but this was like diving into a pool without knowing if there was water in the thing. “You’re quiet; that is never a good sign, Tegan.”

She swallowed and then resolutely met his eyes. “He told me that…”

“Yes? What?” The Doctor‘s hand gently cupped her shoulder.

The seriousness and the calm she had surprised her. She wasn’t afraid that he would run; no, it wasn’t that sort of situation. It was the fear that once she broached the topic, it would let the elephant be acknowledged and seen. “He said that you can’t name what’s in your mind.”

“Did he?” The Doctor stretched his legs. The nonchalance that he exhibited made her frown. “And that surprises you how? You often tell me I don’t know my own mind most of the time.”

“He said that I’m the first thing you think of when you wake and the last thing you think of before you sleep; that you would-“

“Give my life for you,” he said in a breath. “Yes.”

“The way he said it, Thete…” she watched the stars passing in the far background. “The way it sounded…”

He took a deep breath and it seemed to go on forever. His hand on her shoulder became warm and gentle as the grip intensified. She didn’t turn towards him but relaxed against his chest. “That I love you,” he replied solemnly.

There wasn’t more to say. The words seemed to weigh in heavier than the syllables used to say them. The arm about her shoulders pulled her closer and the thumb slowly traced the skin under the clothes.

“We’ll have to hit the ground running, Tegan, if this plan is to work,” he said hoarsely. “As soon as the launch docks, we’ll have to take the satchel and throw it overboard.”

Tegan nodded. It was the first time she had felt unable to find words in a long time. It was an intuitive feeling; she knew he couldn’t find them either.

“This will be over soon,” the Doctor whispered. “I don’t anticipate any problems.” He shifted his legs.

“And then?”

The Doctor sighed and held her tight.

**

“Get that skirt so you can run,” Thete advised. “Over your shoulder might be the best.”

Tegan picked up the hem of her dress and hoisted one of the ends over her shoulder. It exposed her legs, but made it so she could run unimpeded. His exasperated sigh was the first inkling she had that he noticed she had done what he had said. With practiced steps, she joined him next to the door. Mariner, thankfully and noticeable absent until this time, flanked her at her other side.

“Where do you have to dispose of the package? What exactly are you disposing of in the package?” Mariner held out the wrapped parcel like it contained the plague. “You say that the object should be…”

“About so big,” the Doctor held up his forefinger and thumb. “And a gift that won’t be looked at as something to hand back, something expensive and more than likely beautiful. Like a clasp or a jewel…”

“Jewel…” Tegan whispered. “Kill with beauty.”

The Doctor grimaced. “That’s hardly up to Victoria’s standard, Tegan,” he chastised. He glanced down at her legs and then he reached over to take the package from Mariner. His blue eyes were wide and flecked more with gold than usual.

“I wasn’t going to wear the bloomers,” she explained. “Rabbits, you’re lucky I’m wearing-“

“Yes, that’s enough,” the Doctor rumbled. “I wasn’t expecting garters.”

“Consider it a treat,” she joked. She bent and unlaced the boots and stepped out of them as the launch slowed next to the Shadow. The Doctor took her hand firmly in his; his cool palm pressed hard against hers, connecting on an elemental level.

“Hmm.”

Mariner frowned. “You find her humor to be both exasperating and entertaining. Interesting.” Tegan tensed her muscles and prepared to run. Mariner, she guessed, could sense the urgency that they were feeling. “Where and when would you like this package destroyed?”

“I don’t know, but it won’t be long. She’ll move quickly. It’ll force Wrack’s hand to use the machine to cause the self-destruct to begin. And she knows that.”

“How will you get her to definitely use the weapon?” Mariner asked and then frowned. “You want the Shadow.”

“I’ll need the Shadow, to command her at least,” the Doctor warned. “To flush her out. There’s no other reason for her to absolutely move against me, against us. She has to be brought to the edge…”

Mariner straightened his back as the launch stopped. “Striker will never agree.”

“Then I shall have to convince him,” the Doctor huffed. He stepped to the plank and pulled Tegan along with a steady hand. They ran in tandem across the causeway to the main ship.

“What will Turlough do?”

“He’s our ace!” The Doctor yelled as they ran across the deck.

**

Turlough stood in front of the weapon, surveying the open weapon screen and the bank of controls. He knew and actively tried to broadcast the fact that the wires were live.

“There’s no need, Vislor,” Wrack said quietly, menacingly. “I know that you and that Time Lord think you can outsmart us.”

“It’s impossible, isn’t it?” Turlough expressed sarcastically. “How can we outsmart you when you run on our thought processes? Logically, it would mean that we would have to outsmart ourselves.” He crossed his arms over his chest with a grunt. “That’s not possible, is it, Eternal?”

Wrack widely smiled. Her white teeth were a shock against her deep red lipstick. She looked like a pirate; she looked as though looting and pillaging was as easy as breathing. Murder was something to pass the time with her, Turlough thought. Ruthlessness was something he knew well; he knew military tactics better.

“You’ve sided with the Time Lord.” It wasn’t a question. “You’ve signed your own death, Trion. Think. He has left, gone back to that other ship in an effort to bring me to use the weapon on this ship that is wired to self-destruct. He left you behind and you wish to-“

“The Doctor has done nothing that hasn’t already been done to me. This time it was my choice.” Turlough straightened his back. “But I truly can’t sit back and watch great tactics go to waste.”

“You wanted your home-“

“Not at the loss of myself or personal safety.” Turlough spat. “Or to be used against those I care about.”

“And you care about the Time Lord.”

“I didn’t say that.” Turlough walked around the ancient wood table to approach the machine. He stopped as his eyes scanned the screen. “They have made it to the ship. Aren’t you going to detonate for Striker’s demise? There is the possibility that the Doctor might have wired it wrong. Or that it might take more than once to trip the self-destruct.”

Wrack laughed. “Or, stupid Trion, I might just heave to and have the ship beat the others to the prize. It is within reach now.”

Turlough smiled. “Quite possibly, yes.” His smile widened; his hand had closed over the collection of jewels in their velvet. “But determining all that: that’s a mystery that you’ll have to find out about in my mind, isn’t it?” He thought hard on the issues as he lowered his hand to slip it in his pocket.

Then, without a sound, he turned and ran for the corridor.

**

The Doctor sped across the deck with Tegan’s hand firmly in his. Her skirt ruffled in the breeze of their passing. The stars seemed not to move, she noticed.

“Hurry,” he urged.

“Striker will not let the ship be taken,” Mariner yelled. Tegan glanced over her shoulder to see a look of profound confusion on the Eternal’s face. She wondered if she was projecting that. “He won’t!”

“It isn’t his decision,” the Doctor shouted in return. “The Guardians didn’t make Time Lords the custodians of keeping Eternals out of the time-space continuum because we were unable to do it.”

Tegan’s gaze fell to the satchel held in the Doctor’s free hand. “Cripes, maybe it isn’t the best idea to hold onto that-“She chided.

“It is!” The Doctor yelled.

**

Turlough sped through the corridors. He really didn’t stay ahead of the crew on the ship; how could he after all? They knew his every step before he had completely formulated the direction. He stumbled out onto the deck and fell to his knees. The jewels in his pocket clanged. What was he doing?

Confusing them while he confused himself, apparently. The objects were on his person; the Doctor had the objects in a separate entity. His eyes scanned the deck. The rest of the objects of concentration he had. Wrack couldn’t use the weapon on anyone but he and the Doctor at that point.

What did he need to do? What would be the best course of action? He wished his father was there; he wished the brilliant strategist was next to him, guiding his way. He gained his feet unsteadily as the sound of running footsteps sounded below him on the deck. As he rocked backwards, swayed by his thoughts as much as the movement of the ship, he saw something he hadn’t thought would be an issue and suddenly saw an out.

“Great bloody Christ,” he breathed.

The great sleek body of the Shadow pulled ahead of the pirate ship on which he stood.

**

The Doctor let out a low chuckle as he reached the stairs. “Wrack has now entered the dead man’s corridor!” With that last syllable, he wrapped his arm around Tegan’s waist, skirt and all and took her down the first flight of stairs without her feet landing on the ground.

**

Turlough fell into the body of the launch as he slapped the control board to the on position. Turning on his knees, he hit the unlock switch for the docking mechanism at the same time he engaged the engines. The launch rocked to the side as the engines came online quicker than the dock unlocked.

“Starboard,” he muttered. “Starboard thrusters.” He gripped the control panel and closed the door as the directionals came online. He didn’t need the computer plot of the flight plan. He leaned into the stick and hit the engines at the same time. The launch lurched and went into a tumble, fueled by only one pair of thrusters. The zero spiral came out as the launch went down and under Wrack’s ship.

He fired the port thrusters and broke the launch out of freefall and brought it back up as he sat down hard in the pilot’s chair. “I don’t suppose this thing flies like a fighter, but it has to have some sort of power to it. Now, she’ll have two targets…”

**

The Doctor slid to a stop as he rounded the first immediate turn. The view window showed the starboard side of the Shadow. The next turn would bring them to the wheelhouse. Tegan continued his momentum and he twisted, pulling her hard against his flank. He saw the small launch moving away from the bulk of the pirate ship.

“Rassilon…I had expected something…but not Turlough putting himself under the crosshairs!” The Doctor frowned. “Variables are changing!”

“How can you be sure it’s him?” Tegan asked as he pulled her along the corridor. Mariner followed, quick to take the turn where the Doctor and Tegan had been unbalanced.

“Because I trust it to be him,” the Doctor answered. “But the fool is putting himself into more danger than necessary. We must move quickly. This is going to call for drastic measures.” The Doctor stopped as they neared the door. He cupped her shoulders in his hands, the satchel pressing against her bones. “Tegan…”

His eyes were bright; the gaze bore into hers. “Tegan…”

She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. “Listen. I need you to project your emotions. I need you to project all that is in your mind, all that is in your heart…all your emotions.”

“But…” she croaked. “The Eternals…”

“Push all those emotions out; they can’t get in when you flood it in one direction.” He urged. His hands rose to brush against her cheeks. “Please, Tegan. I have to get control of this ship. It’ll confuse them…you have the power.”

She saw his earnestness and felt the need.

Anger. Burning bright at her center; lashing out at the Universe. They could take everything from her; they had made Thete go against that which he had sworn to uphold. She let the anger burn like a raging forest fire in her mind.

She couldn’t feel her feet. The walls seemed to be moving.

Anger at the men in her life; anger at what they had done to her; fury at the wasted months on dirty ratty mattresses. Anger at her parents; anger the woman who had taken her father from her family; anger at being not wanted, by anyone, by any member of her family except her little brother. Anger at having her little brother taken from her.

A spark of happiness, anger bleeding into the brilliant light of something equally deep and equally strong and equally at her core. Happiness at seeing her father that September morning, gathering her in Sydney. The swell in her heart as she was gathered in a warm embrace. Dissolving into pain as he packed her off to England.

The door to the wheelhouse flew open and the Doctor was bringing her in, slow motion, like a movie in half speed.

Man after man, pain after pain, always someone there to take what they wanted, to leave her a husk of what she could be. Never love, always need; scaring her, scarring her.

The Eternals had their eyes closed. She could barely see them for the tears.

The Doctor let go of her hand, let go of her waist. He was dancing through the room; dancing through the wheelhouse, moving amongst the Eternals like a pixie amongst the flowers.

Then him. He loved her whether he could name it as such or not. The days and nights of arguing; the days and nights of passion; the days and nights of running through the Universe trying to find him, trying to find herself.

Fear of him, fear of the love; fear of what it meant. Not fascination, not infatuation, just calm steady love for what she was, for only what she was. The deep seated feeling of oneness when he appeared in the morning, the want to never have anything happen to him.

Even Mariner was stayed. They couldn’t move. She thought she saw a tear on the cheek of the Captian.

A shattering of glass. Thete had broken the main window with a loose piece of instrumentation. He had done it on the bank closest to directionals. He stood back and with a smooth move that made his shoulders and body flow like a carefully controlled river. He bowled the satchel with nary a breath and it sailed through the window. At the same time, he leaned into instrument panel and hit a button.

She was sucked toward the window as the air about her hissed and moved. The Eternals shimmered and she thought that they were disappearing like a rock thrown into a pond makes a reflection disappear. The Doctor reached out, his arm like a steel band, and stopped her slow slide towards the window. She was drawn into his chest as he anchored her between the instruments and the remaining window.

**

The launch went into a long roll and looped around as Turlough brought it back up on keel. He frowned with a sigh. “At least it can do defensive actions…” he said with an eye roll. “I don’t have any idea why I’m trying that; there’s going to be no laser fire.”

He saw the Shadow list to one side and with a grimace; he realized that the list was typical to that caused by a breach of a ships outer shield.

“He’s jettisoned the jewel,” Turlough whispered. He glanced at the velvet wrapped package on the ground near his seat. That left the packet he held as the only possible target.

The listing of the Shadow slowed it. Wrack’s ship was gaining on it.

**

“Hold on!”

Tegan could barely breathe; there was little air around them. What air was there, whistled past her to go out the breach. The Doctor was holding her firmly with one arm and had her wedged with his leg into the directional console. She could see a jewel in space; a great large crystal hanging in the heavens.

“Is it over when we reach it?” She rasped.

He worriedly glanced at her. “No! Hold your breath, Tegan!”

“But we’ll win…”

**

Turlough glanced back at Wrack’s ship as he sped towards the crystal. There was a spark in the aft of the ship, a spark that seemed to roll among the windows, like the completion of a circuit.

Then like a wave, the explosion began in the back of the pirate ship and rolled like an incoming tide towards the front.

“Maker…” Turlough breathed and gave a worried glance at the packet by his feet. “She used it…”

He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, his hands flexing on the control stick. When he opened them, after his chest expanded and the familiar feeling of exhilaration based relief relaxed his muscles, he saw the wave rolling towards him.

“Bloody hell…”

**

The Doctor jammed the controls to the starboard, which brought the ship into a fast bank to the port side. He didn’t aim for the docking area on the crystal. Tegan was limply resting against his chest, her coloring was wan. His eyes narrowed as he located the docking bay: a small outcrop on the side of the massive crystal. The last of the air in the wheelhouse was rushing past his head. He had to land the ship quickly. Tegan and the other crew members needed air. The Eternals had warped out of the room, possibly from the ship. The exterior integrity of their vessel had been compromised; two had been sucked out into space: Striker and Mariner.

It had been the last thing Tegan had seen before she passed out.

He continued to bring the ship into a hard bank, ignoring the warning screech of the proximity meter. He pressed his hips against Tegan to keep her wedged as he used both hands to dance across the directionals. The Shadow continued to bank, and then slowed with the retro thrusters. He brought the ship to a stop with the docking bay mere feet from the breached hull.

Without a thought, he brought his fists down on the directional control and felt a momentary rush of satisfaction as the bank disintegrated into circuitry and glass.

“Hold on, brave heart,” he whispered and backed up. He pulled her to lie over his shoulder, took three large steps back and then, with the rushing air at his back, he leapt across space to the landing bay.

**

“That’s it: breathe.”

Turlough limped into the main opening in the crystal. He glanced around at the walls: clear as polished glass and sparking as water in the sun. And as far as he could see there was nothing forming a seal over the atmosphere within. It was, as far as he could see, open to space. His gaze searched the crystal for a moment and then he followed the Doctor’s voice.

“Deep breath, Tegan.”

With measured steps, Turlough rounded the corner. Next to an alcove, propped against the wall, was Tegan. The Doctor knelt in front of her, one hand on her chest, the other holding her shoulder back. “She have a rough time of it?”

“About as badly as your flying, Turlough,” the Doctor said quietly without removing his gaze from Tegan. “Rather a bit of a chance wasn’t it?”

“It did the job.” Turlough stopped and stared down at Tegan. “She’s a bit pale.”

“She had…breathing problems,” the Doctor began and then smiled as Tegan took a deep breath.

“Had no air,” Tegan rasped. “And a couple of…bruised…ribs…”

“I wanted you to live; I wasn’t worried about being gentle.” The Doctor brushed her hair back from her face and then slipped his hands under her arms. He gently pulled her to her feet and she leaned into his chest. When she stopped tottering, he glanced at Turlough. “Now that you’re here, I believe we should greet your employer and gather our prize.”

Turlough sighed heavily and pulled his hands from his pocket to straighten his tie. Tegan’s coloring was coming back; she wasn’t as pale as she had been, but she looked peaked. Ironic that he was worried about her physical state when just hours before he had been trying to kill her. Was easier this way, less stress to be on the side of the Doctor.

“Next time, Turlough, opt for something less…” the Doctor said as he began to walk, his arm around Tegan’s waist. “…dramatic.”

“With Wrack and the Eternal’s flair for the drama, what else could I have done, but given them their…dramatic action? It got their attention.”

“Is it what you were taught on Trion?” The Doctor sniffed. Tegan’s gait was slow and he took hold of her hand to help her along the corridor. “What year are you from, Turlough?”

“After I left and before I return?” Turlough shot back. When the Doctor frowned, he shrugged. “No, I don’t particularly want to tell you. Not right now.”

“Yes, well…” the Doctor stopped in front of a bank of crystals and pressed one down. “That does cause a bit of a problem for getting you home. I did promise to help you.”

“It’s a time machine,” Turlough said urgently. “It doesn’t matter if I tell you now or in two weeks, two months or two standard years; you’ll get me home at whatever time we choose.”

Tegan winced and glanced up at the Doctor. “You want to return him straight away, don’t you? Please say you do.”

“Hmmm, well…it’s something to discuss, once this situation is taken care of. Turlough, before we enter this room, I need to know a few things. You were in league with the Black Guardian and Gallifrey, yes?”

Turlough nodded and leaned against the wall. “Before you ask, I believe the name of the Time Lord was Alpha. He was-“

Tegan grimaced. “A member of Thete’s family and house, yes. Cripes, whatever did you do to him, Thete, that he hates you that much?”

“Breathe, apparently,” the Doctor rumbled. “That answers a great deal of things, Turlough, thank you. Were there any more promises that you gave the Guardian for yourself?”

Turlough shook his head. “No. The understanding that was I was to help cause a regeneration in you if outright killing was not an issue and then interfere with the initiation of the regeneration…”

“Effective.”

“And that if I didn’t carry out that mission, I would pay with my life…” Turlough chuckled. “It wasn’t said in so many words, but I do read between the lines, thanks.”

“Hmmm,” the Doctor’s arm held Tegan tightly against his side. He glanced down at her upturned face and then glanced ahead. “After you, Turlough…we’ll get you out of this.”

“I believe you.”

**

The Black Guardian looked like a throwback to Monty Python to Tegan’s eyes. She still rested against the Doctor’s chest for the most part, and her gaze was a bit unsteady, but she was sure she saw the being with a cocktail glass in his hand. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was wearing a panama hat.

“Quite sporty,” she whispered drunkenly.

The Doctor shook his head. “Even the devil wears tailored clothes, Tegan.”

“At least evil looks good,” she returned with a sigh. His arm curled into her body more and she was hauled upright.

“Your Yentria, I presume, Theta?” The Black Guardian rested against the hard wood and crossed his legs at the ankle. The linen trousers he wore fell in ironed lines, easy from the knees to the floor. She thought she saw shined shoes as well. The shirt was biased cut high count cotton she assumed. Very, very nice. The Guardian’s eyes, steel blue, appraised her above the rim of his cocktail glass. “Rather…Terran, isn’t she?”

“Very Terran…pure, in fact,” the Doctor said with a quick smile. He rocked back on the heels of his feet to look at the man in the chair.

The Guardian lifted an eyebrow. “Must be the…inherent sensuality of the human woman, Thete; a Gallifreyan woman would have served you better.”

“You mean: not put me at a loss or give an Achilles Heel,” the Doctor sighed. “Tegan strengthens me in a variety of ways, Guardian. I wouldn’t underestimate her.”

Tegan opened her mouth, but the Doctor squeezed her hip to keep her quiet. As she fought against the want to talk, another being began to appear at her right hand. She found that she couldn’t look anywhere but at the solidification of being.

The Doctor slid his left hand into his pocket. “And eliciting Gallifrey in the fight, Guardian…”

“The issue was conceived on Gallifrey, Doctor,” the Black Guardian replied with a sigh. “It was an interesting proposition…”

“Ah…yes…” the Doctor bit his lip. “I suppose that it would be.”

“It is good to see you again, Doctor.”

Tegan blinked. Sometime in the last five seconds, a man had completely appeared in the chair facing the Black Guardian across the table. He was in an outfit that was a negative image of that which the Black Guardian wore. There was a silk tie of the purest white, however and she found that was an excellent addition to the outfit.

The Doctor smiled. “And you.”

“Friend of yours?” Tegan whispered. The Doctor leaned towards her and shook his head minutely.

“Not a friend per se,” the Doctor explained. “Ex-employer, ally. He keeps order…”

“And the other one causes chaos?” Tegan asked, agreed with a nod.

“We can’t have one without the other,” the White Guardian explained as he relaxed back into the chair and cupped his mint julep in both hands. “He and I are halves of a proverbial coin, my dear; so long as he exists, so will I and vice versa. For there is no need to correct chaos if the chaos does not exist.”

Tegan sighed. “So you are…forces of nature? You exist forever?”

“Until we are no longer needed,” the White Guardian said cryptically a small smile on his lips.

She frowned and shook her head. “That-“

“Eventually,” the Doctor replied, low, for her ears only and took her hand. “Eventually, one of them will win. At that point, the Universe will collapse and the next Expanse will begin. And don’t ask about that now, Tegan.”

“Yes, and we can complete our transaction here,” the Black Guardian replied. He set down his gin and tonic firmly on the table. “No offense, my darling Yentria. I’m sure that your Tatrian will answer your questions later. Appease her curiosity, Theta…” he said as an aside. “It will confuse her even more. Now…”

The Doctor humphed and rubbed his thumb into her hand. “Do get on with it.”

Turlough joined Tegan at her left and slid his hands into his pockets. The Doctor glanced over Tegan’s head and she intuited his nod rather than saw it. The Black Guardian set a very large crystal down on the mahogany table. The reds and browns in the wood reflected in the quartz surface. She loved the way that the facets caught and spread every nuance of color, making refractions of refractions until it seemed like it was a mass of brilliant color on the table top.

“Bloody hell…” she whispered in awe. “It’s a diamond.”

“You could buy the galaxy with a diamond that size,” Turlough said knowledgeably.

“Aptly put,” the Black Guardian said.

The White Guardian nodded in agreement. “And the winner shall take the prize. He who brought the winning ship into port shall take his prize.”

The Doctor smiled. “I was the pilot of the winning ship.” He moved toward the table and stepped in front of both Tegan and Turlough. “But I don’t believe that I have any need for a gift, thank you.”

Turlough shifted uneasily next to Tegan and his eyes were wide in his face. The Doctor glanced at Turlough and then turned his gaze towards Tegan. She lifted her chin and gaze to meet his. “You assisted me, Tegan…”

“Then she shall be able to take a portion of the prize,” the White Guardian stated. Before he could complete the sentence, she shook her head.

“Not bloody likely,” Tegan stated firmly.

The White Guardian smiled, but then he turned his attention to Turlough. “And you assisted in another manner, Turlough?”

The Doctor turned and looked to the boy. He rocked back on his heels and bit his lip and then gave a firm nod. “He did and in quite a daring manner.”

Turlough lifted an eyebrow and glanced at the table. The Black Guardian smiled and sat back and crossed his hands over his lap. “Would you say that this boy was an intricate part of the plan?”

“Absolutely.”

Turlough frowned at the turn of the conversation and moved closer to the table.

“Then the Doctor is at your mercy.” The Black Guardian smiled widely. “And I will give you the portion in exchange for completion of our contract. Forfeit the Doctor’s life and you will receive your diamond.” When he completed his talk, he sat back with a sigh.

He stared down at the diamond and then lifted his gaze to the Black Guardian. Finally, after several minutes, he looked to the Doctor. The Time Lord simply stood impassively in front of Tegan. She laid her hand on his back but there was no movement as he stood like a statue.

Turlough finally and quickly pushed the diamond towards the Black Guardian. “No. Take it.”

The jewel slid off the table with that violent shove and fell on the Black Guardian’s lap. To Tegan horror, the man erupted into a massive flame. “Horrible!” She gasped. The Doctor turned and put his arm around her shoulders and held her to his chest as the Black Guardian was consumed slowly. “Look at your communication device, Turlough,” the Doctor advised quietly. “You’ll find your contract is at an end.”

The blackened crystal, now a lump of ash, was dumped on the table unceremoniously.

“How?” She whispered.

“Enlightenment is Turlough’s, yours and mine,” the Doctor advised, his voice as kind as his touch. “It wasn’t the jewel; it was the choice.”

**

Enlighten(part6)

2006-09-20T17:09:16Z

“Where is he?” the Doctor urged as Mariner sipped his drink. The Eternal glanced over the edge of his glass with a gleam in his eye. With a sigh, the Doctor nodded. “I can’t very well stay here with Tegan and get Turlough and you and I both know that. The question is: who is in more danger?”

Mariner tilted his head to the side and then slowly shut his eyes. The Doctor watched his face for a sign of interest or life and was slightly disconcerted to find that there was none. “Wrack will attempt to enter Tegan’s mind. She is intrigued.”

The Doctor nodded slowly and then put down his glass on the table. “And Turlough?”

“He is scared and frightened,” Mariner said quickly and pursed his lips as if tasting a fine wine. “He is regretting his actions towards you and Tegan, at least at some level. He only wants to go home…to his family.”

The Doctor winced slightly. “He’s younger than I assumed. Do you have a clear picture of him?”

Mariner’s eyes opened quickly. “He’s attempting to- he’s found the weapon that Wrack uses.” The Doctor watched as Mariner’s mouth opened in surprise. “And he’s trying to destroy it.” He reached out and grabbed the Doctor’s wrist. “It is the gift of a Guardian. He will never be able to-“

“Fool.” The Doctor bit out and just refrained from hitting the table in a show of anger. “The young fool in league with the Devil himself.”

“You decide who is in more danger,” Mariner said quietly as he opened his eyes. “Time Lord.”

“My arrogance sounds better in my own voice,” the Doctor sniffed. He glanced down at his hand and then bit his lip. “Eternals are only the playthings of the Guardians; the Guardians are nothing to be trifled with. I should have guessed. I was an imbecile.” He winced and stared at Mariner. “Turlough is in more trouble than Tegan without a doubt. And will exert trouble for Tegan if I don’t assist and disentangle him from this web he has created.”

“You’ll leave her here?”

The Doctor frowned and tapped on the table. And made a fist. “Mariner. Can I trust you to keep Tegan safe?”

Mariner blinked. “You are-“

The Doctor grasped Mariner by the lapel. “Look at me, Mariner.”

The Eternal turned under the physical onslaught and faced the Time Lord. The Doctor tucked his chin and narrowed his eyes. The Eternal stared at him for a moment and then drew a deep breath. The Doctor looked like he was in pain and physically winced as he maintained the stare with Mariner. There was a long space; it seemed that neither moved, neither breathed. Until Mariner whispered as if in awe: “I see.”

“Do you understand?” The Doctor asked strongly.

“Yes.” It was a simple word, said simply.

“Then watch her as I would. Keep them out of her mind, Mariner. I beseech you.”

Mariner drew back and nodded very slowly. “Turlough is down as far as one can go on the ship, down and to the bow.”

**

Tegan watched as the Doctor stumbled to run out the door. She felt as though he was leaving her adrift on the sea. With a swallow, she tried to force the yell of exasperation back. Wrack’s smile widened as she watched the reaction in Tegan’s face. Suddenly, Tegan felt like she was drowning, she felt like she was going down for the fourth time. There was no life vest; she felt utterly alone.

And she was utterly alone in a sea of people that wanted to eat her mind.

She turned to leave, to follow the Doctor when a cool hand pressed against her back. “There you are, Tegan.”

She heard the intonation of the Doctor in the words and presentation, but it was Mariner’s voice. It sparked a shot of memory in her mind; that she was to look for the Doctor in Mariner, but to not act without thinking. And he wanted her to be in a special place with her mind.

Without thinking, Tegan reached out to take Mariner’s hand. “You wanted to show me the wheelhouse, Captain Wrack?”

Wrack looked over her shoulder at Mariner and frowned. “I hadn’t anticipated additional guests. It will be a bit crowded, I’m afraid.”

Tegan smiled widely. “Then I suppose we shall have to do it another time.”

**

Was it reversing the direction of the neutron flow? Turlough bit his lip and tapped his fingers against the metal screen around the control panel. Or was it tapping the electron shielding to send the extra energy into a flux pattern? He should have paid more attention in atomic engineering class, but he had always been the pilot not the engineer. His sister was the engineer, but he couldn’t get in touch with her, if he tried.

And for that reason, he didn’t have a clue why Wrack had left him where and when he could actually allow him into the machine. She would have to have underestimated him; that wasn’t very possible, however, her estimation of him must have come from his own estimation of himself. Unless the use of the weapon would be deadly for him.

And the Guardian had set him up for this scenario.

He leaned in to rest his brow against the metal with a sigh. The chess board had become at least four dimensions now. Gallifrey and the Guardians, beings that could read his mind and a Time Lord that could have been an ally was well on his way to being an enemy.

He had to destroy this weapon. It was being used indiscriminately and a good weapon was always meant to be used for a purpose. And if it were part of the Guardian’s plan it had to be destroyed-

But how in the name of Trion’s army was he to re-route something of this magnitude.

“Slowly.”

Turlough jumped. He hadn’t heard the Doctor approach. Yet the man leaned against the wall just ten feet from him with his arms crossed over his chest in what appeared to be a languid manner. He stared at Turlough for a long moment before his gaze traveled to the control panel and then finally to the open viewport of the room. Turlough watched his blue eyes survey the situation.

“You do what you are doing very slowly and deliberately. Espionage is best like that.”

The Doctor stepped back from the control panel and swaggered to the middle of the observation room with his hands in his pockets. In the middle, he pivoted and tilted his head back. Then with an artistic hand, he pointed to the ceiling. “Titanium beams or something very similar,” he stated. “And boron glass.” His fingers traced the line in the air. “Used for concentrating a laser beam of some considerable size.”

“Not a laser,” Turlough said quietly. He tapped the control panel. “Thought.”

The Doctor gave a single chuckle. “Thought? From an Eternal? My dear young Trion-“

“When issued from-“

“From a greater power, hmm? Say one of the Guardians?” The Doctor said quietly. “Yes, that would give it the extra umph, wouldn’t it, Turlough? As would additional help from Gallifrey.” The Doctor lowered his gaze to stare at Turlough. “Concentrated power from a Guardian towards another place with a focus, I would assume. Something the size of my thumb from the looks of this main window.”

Turlough slowly nodded. “You guessed it.”

“Inferred and listened to a sympathetic Eternal,” the Doctor nodded. He waited a breath. Turlough felt like an insect on microscope. Then he stepped close to Turlough and tilted his head toward the youth. “What are your intentions, hmm? I suppose it was my death in exchange for something. Going home, I would think. And if my death couldn’t be brought about immediately, you would either kill or conveniently misplace Tegan for sufficient amount of time. Until my biology did your nasty work for you? Guardians are dangerous, Turlough. Both of them.”

“You, a Time Lord tell me you wouldn’t have done anything to get away from exile-“
“Oh, I’ve been in your position-“

“The hell-“

“I was exiled on Earth for the equivalent of four earth years, Turlough,” the Doctor continued, talking over Turlough. “And I did many things, but I never gave away my soul.”

Turlough rounded on the Doctor and crossed the space in a fit of anger he hadn’t felt in ages, in years, since he had left Trion. “Sanctimonious Time Lord! Judging the universe-“

The Doctor didn’t move; he simply lifted an eyebrow and passively awaited Turlough’s next explosion. That spurred Turlough on more. He felt his face grow hot; felt the rush of adrenaline through his veins. Logic told him not to go against the Doctor physically; he would definitely lose. He leaned toward the Doctor. “You’ve never been torn from your family. You’ve never been shunned and set aside, sent to eek your existence on a backwards world. Don’t presume to tell me what you would or wouldn’t do based on my circumstances. Mathematics might predict many things, but not the psyche under stress-“

The Doctor laid his hands on Turlough’s shoulders. “No. It can’t. And I’ll tell you someday about situations and decisions. But let me give you another variable to consider, Turlough, in this muddied existence you’ve created for yourself. I am offering you a way home, to return to your planet with the backing of a Time Lord and an ex-President of the High Council without anything on your behalf other than trust. You don’t have to sell your soul to me.”

Turlough squinted his eyes.

“The Black Guardian will want your complete existence. You are a political exile; all exiles from Trion are. He wants you to kill me so that I am removed from being a pawn used against him. Why does he fear me? Because I have worked for and allied with his polar opposite, boy. Think! I have helped the White Guardian to defeat his plans in the past. But the White Guardian has never asked for my soul. Whether I’m involved or not, the two forces will continue their cosmic war. Whether you’ve involved or not, it will continue. The only decision you have to make is whether to allow yourself to be used.

He will take your existence and will send you back to Trion. And will order you to create havoc on Trion. He will do it, Turlough. You will be used against your planet, your government-“

“Not my government.”

“And your family.” The Doctor concluded with his voice rumbling. “They will be included. I can return you with no cost exacted on your soul. But you. Must. Choose. I will not allow Tegan to be hurt.”

“That said by you…who have left her among Eternals so that they can feast on her mind.” Turlough spat.

“I’ve taken care of that.” The Doctor said lowly.

Turlough frowned. “And how do I know that won’t use me as well?”

“All I can offer is my word.”

Turlough heard his father in the words; saw his father in the blue eyes of the Time Lord. He saw his father arguing for his ability to be resocialized in the regime. He saw his mother arguing for his strength and commitment to family. He saw his brother and sister given to care of the state. He saw the tears in his mother’s eyes as they loaded him into the transport to Earth.

Then the memories faded to let him see the face of the Time Lord clearly. And he realized that either way he could be considered a dead man. But at least this way he was under no obligation and would die a free man in a true sense of the word.

“It concentrates thought process and the psychic energy of the Guardian onto a jewel. Something that would fit into jewelry,” Turlough said lowly. “Then it expends the inherent psychic potential energy into kinetic energy and an explosion.”

The Doctor nodded slowly and reached into his pocket for his glasses. “Interesting. Gallifrey had played around with this in our last war.”

“What was that…close to a million years ago?” Turlough said out of the side of his mouth.

“Something like that. Sarcasm suits you.” The Doctor knelt at the control board. Slowly he ran his fingers over the instrumentation. “We’ll have to do some rewiring.”

“The Eternals can read our minds.” Turlough joined him, kneeling in front of the control panel. “They’ll know that we are going to do whatever it is we’re doing.”

“Quite right.” The Doctor frowned and then pulled on a panel. It popped off into his hands. “Turlough, I’m going to rig this thing for self-destruction.”

**

Mariner kept his hand at Tegan’s back everywhere they went. She imagined it was the Doctor’s. She barely recognized images and movement around her; she was walking in a dream. The tall oak had stood outside her bed; the one that had served as her playhouse for years when she was very small; in her mind, she sat in the wide branches. Lace patchwork sunlight patterns and the smell of Australia in the summer surrounded her.

She wanted to climb higher in the tree and see over into the neighbor’s yard; she wanted to go to bed with Thete.

“Love.”

Tegan started out of her reverie at the sound of Mariner’s melodious voice. “What?”

“It is what you feel….the name you give it.”

She glanced up at the Eternal behind her. “I beg your pardon.”

“What you feel for the Time Lord…you call it love. Passion…affection…” Mariner said. His mouth was agape in that way he had when intensely interested in something; she found it annoying.

“Yes, maybe.” She said, her voice just under edge. “It’s none of your goddamn business.”

The Eternals next to her lowered their glasses in interest. Mariner turned her away from the group and led her to the observation window a little distance away. Mariner grabbed another glass of champagne as they walked past the serving area. Tegan waved it away, but Mariner still held it out to her.

“He feels powerfully, Tegan.”

She pushed his hand and the wine away.

“But it is just as powerful, just as encompassing. It affects his mind, his soul.”

She turned to walk away. She wanted her tree and the sunlight.

“He has no words for it. You are the first thing on his mind when he wakes and the last thing he thinks of before he sleeps. What is it? Is it the same? Everything he does, you are always on his mind. Your near death experience nearly undid him. He would give his life for you and yet he cannot name what he feels.”

Tegan reached out for the door, but her vision was blurry and her hand missed the handle.

Mariner pursed his lips as if tasting a fine meal. “You have become everything to him. There is fear there, intense affection…fear of you, of situations…hidden behind his emotional wall…”

Mariner stopped walking, his shoes squeaking on the floor. “Tegan…please…explain this fear…why does he fear what he cannot name?”

Tegan weakly leaned into the door. This thing…this being…was saying things that were coming from the Doctor’s mind. He feared her? He felt….love? The handle wouldn’t turn; she couldn’t open the door. The tree was fading away into her mind, the sunlight dimming; she felt panic, a want to run, to….away…to him. To the Doctor. All she could see was his ice blue warm eyes.

“The damn bastard,” she whispered. “He loves me.”

Enlighten(part5)

2006-09-20T17:07:34Z

“Rabbits, this is impossible.”

Her arm was aching where she reached over her shoulder to try and button the dress, but no amount of stretching was bringing her any closer to achieving that goal. “Cripes, I don’t believe this. If they were creating this image out of mind, why didn’t they foresee this problem?”

She tried one more time, looking, to her self-critical eyes, like a pretzel trying to untwist itself. Then with an outraged sigh, she lowered her hands, massaging the tightened muscles in her arms. “What the hell am I supposed to do about this?”

Tegan eyed the door with an amount of exasperation. But two more minutes of trying to rectify the sleeves on her shoulders dispelled any embarrassment about asking for help.

“Thete?”

Ten seconds passed before the door creaked open to reveal the confused yet impatient face of her alien lover. His gaze swept the floor before it encountered her feet. Then, slowly, it traveled up her legs to her torso and then to her face. The smile he gave was slow and wide. “Tegan? We do rather have some place to be.”

“And I can’t bloody get into this dress, thanks very much. Can you help?” She nearly cried in exasperation.

“You look clothed.”

“But not buttoned. Hell’s bells, why did they put the buttons where a woman couldn’t reach them?”

“Because a woman wearing a dress like that would have a lady’s maid to help her,” he explained as he stepped into the room. The door closed and he stepped closer to her. “Do hurry, Tegan. The launch will be here in a moment.”

“Wonderful. Button me then?”

He sighed and stepped behind her. “Hmm.” She felt his cool fingers brushing against the naked skin of the small of her back as he began to draw the material together. “Well, this dress certainly was created out of your mind, Tegan; it fits your body structure perfectly. That had to be something out of your own physical rectification of your body image. If you didn’t want problems with a dress like this-“

“When you mention Victorian or Edwardian and frock…this is what I think about, okay?” She groused as she smoothed down the lines of the dress. “I didn’t have the luxury of knowing that what we read isn’t quite what happened.”

“No, like history, fashion is only that which is the most advertised of the time.”

She nearly growled. But the anger wilted a bit as she felt the silk hugging her body. It felt heavenly. “This was what I always wanted my wedding dress to be,” she admitted very quietly. “I haven’t thought of that in years. They’re rooting around in my memories.”

“Hmmm,” he said again. His fingers had slowed at the mention of wedding dress, but continued to button up her back efficiently. Soon she was completely buttoned. When she turned to face him, he smiled gently. “Very pretty, Tegan. I compliment you on your dress taste.”

“I would have rather not have it suddenly appear on the bed, however.” She smoothed the skirt and eyed him warily. “Why did you offer Mariner-“

“The chance to see inside my head?” The Doctor laid his hand against her back and walked at her side to the door. “Yes, well, Tegan…it was either that or have them glance inside your head. I realize how uneasy that makes you feel. It was one expendable thing that we had with which to bribe them. Although, I do believe that it means Mariner will be accompanying us.”

She stepped out the door and arranged the skirt. “Wonderful. And you do think it’s worth it? That it’s Wrack that’s causing the destruction?”

“Yes.” He said it quietly, with a deep voice, hoarse. She lifted her gaze from the edge of her skirt to look at his face. In the muted light of the corridor, against the warm tones of the wood, he looked golden and wonderful. His hair was brown in the light; his eyes were the deepest blue she had ever seen; his lips were pale rose and slightly agape. His gaze was on her. She watched his gaze traveling up and down her body. She knew that her chest was half uncovered; the material was tightened at her waist. It showed her curves.

“Thete?”

He shook his head once and then stepped forward to pick up her hand. The kiss he pressed to her fingers was gentle and cool. “You will make a beautiful bride, Tegan.” He said warmly. “Striking.”

She couldn’t breathe for a moment; she could feel his voice in her gut; it made her curl her toes. When she could take a breath, she took a series of rapid ones. “Thete…”

He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and turned to walk down the corridor. The silk of her dress swished against the floorboards as they walked the dim interior of the ship. His fingers curled over hers. “You trust me, Tegan.”

She frowned and nodded slowly. “Of course.”

He stopped short of the main staircase and took both of her hands in his. “Mariner may say things that are from my mind, but if he asks you to do things, think about them, don’t act on them immediately.”

Tegan gave a half smile. “I don’t act on what you say immediately most times.”

His sigh was exasperated. “I realize that.” He bent a little to look in her eyes. “But please, use your head.”

She leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. “I will.”

The heaved sigh made his shoulders rise and set quickly. Then he pressed a kiss to her brow and then turned back to climb the stairs. Tegan’s hand was tucked in his arm again.

**

The launch was much as one might have been in Edwardian times. It was a whitewashed wooden small skiff that was moored to the side of the larger ship. She slowly climbed down the rope ladder, infinitely glad when the Doctor’s hands closed protectively on her hips. But it was only when her feet touched the bottom of the small boat that she sighed in relief.

More otherworldly feelings infused her as the launch moved away from the side of the Shadow. She saw the smooth wooden sides of the boat move past them, the sailors rowing with rhythm and strength, until they moved out into the sea of space. It was then that she had to sit down.

Against the rings of Saturn with the approaching outer moons, the ship appeared to be superimposed, not real. “Dear God…”

“Hmmm. But beautiful.” Mariner’s voice sounded warm and familiar and Tegan’s hand tightened on the Doctor’s. “Isn’t it, Tegan?”

“Please,” the Doctor said with his voice hard. He rubbed the ridge of his nose with a tired hand. “Mariner?”

“She finds it unsettling?” Mariner asked in an inquisitive voice. His gaze traveled from the Doctor to Tegan and he smiled. Liveliness that she hadn’t observed before made Mariner look almost young; his eyes were dangerously bright. Tegan lifted her chin and settled her gaze defiantly on the Eternal. The man shifted and the smile broadened. His hand came to rest on her cheek. “I see that she does.”

“You are welcome to read my mind, Mariner, but not to torture Tegan with it.”

“This is torture?”

“Hell no,” she whispered.

“But she would rather not hear my thoughts from your mouth,” the Doctor warned unhappily. He cleared his throat and nodded towards the tall wooden ship that reminded Tegan of a pirate ship. “Now tell me, what are we to expect from this captain? Hmm? Is he a mean sort of chap?”

“Her,” Mariner corrected. “Wrack is female, at least in this race.”

The Doctor leaned forward. “Does she torture?”

“She wouldn’t need to,” Mariner warned. He brushed his fingers tenderly down Tegan’s cheek before the Doctor intercepted his wrist and lowered their combined hands from Tegan. “No,” Mariner continued. “She allows free exploration of minds of her crew, unlike the Shadow.”

“You don’t freely explore minds?” Tegan argued hotly. “The hell you don’t.”

“We don’t. We do so when there is danger,” Mariner clarified. His eyes alighted on hers. “Or when we think we are under attack or when we need to assume shape or transportation. We never allow it freely. Wrack has and will cause mental breakdowns in her crew and visitors. Eventually, this causes the ships or groups to fall apart. One cannot hold everything together if you are feasting on the minds of those around you.”

“Just great,” Tegan heatedly stated. She glanced at the Doctor. “Is it too late to go back-“

Mariner’s fingers lightly stroked her cheek. “I can offer up protection as can Thete. You will be kept from her torture.”

The Doctor’s hand intercepted Mariner’s hand again. “Don’t touch her.”

Mariner looked confused. “But I see so clearly in your mind that you want to. You remember how soft and warm her skin feels; you remember how pliant her lips are…how…inviting…”

“Yes, well…” the Doctor stressed as it was obvious that his superior strength was winning. The combined hands of the Time Lord and Eternal lowered and Tegan swallowed. “That is private, Mariner.”

“But so…this is life!” Mariner exclaimed. Tegan watched as the tall ship neared and tried desperately to ignore the nearly euphoric sound of Mariner’s excitement. She certainly could not watch his face and remain feeling stable. There was a look of a sailor seeing St. Elmo’s Fire in his gaze and she wanted to avoid that uneasy, unsettling situation. “To see her through your mind’s eye-“

“Then you know to what extent I would not like to have her unsettled by having my personal thoughts and feelings thrust upon her.” The Doctor’s hand squeezed Mariner’s until the Eternal’s hand dropped back into his lap. “And to what extent I want her protected.”

Mariner’s mouth was agape as the Doctor’s gaze heated and warred with the Eternal’s. Tegan swallowed hard and encircled his arm with her hands. “I’ll stay with you,” she offered strongly.

“And when he cannot be with you,” Mariner said quietly.

The Doctor patted her hand as the tall ship filled the entire vision field. “He will take care of you in the face of Wrack, Tegan. You can trust him for that. Or else he won’t see any more of my mind.”

With a sigh, she shook her head and edged closer to the Doctor as sailors around them shouted for lines to be thrown to lash them to the ship.

**

Turlough watched the approaching launch with trepidation. He could see the Doctor’s fair head as it drew closer. With a frown, he rubbed his chest. The feeling of the vacuum on his body still chilled him. But it had been his last, best chance to get off that ship. He had left his crystal lying on his bed in his berth.

“And you think that will free you.” The voice was throaty, deep. “You will never be free of him.”

Turlough glanced over his shoulder. The woman stood ten feet behind him. She was wrapped in what a few people would call provocatively in leather and lace. She was in a long dress of blue with a black leather corset and black leather boots. Her raven hair hung in long curls over her shoulders and down to her ample bosom. “Is that from my own head or from your experience?”

The woman sashayed to him and smiled widely. Her fingers brushed down his cheek to his neck. “You are so very interesting, my dear,” she said seductively. “It is no wonder that our Guardian chose you. Devious and yet…to a level compassionate…you want to see your family again, don’t you, darling?”

“That’s a rhetorical question,” Turlough spouted back as he turned back to the window and leaned forward. “You see my mind.”

“Murky at best, love,” Wrack said with a laugh. “Do you still stand by your story that you have come to me to side with the winner?”

“I want to live,” Turlough said simply. He narrowed his eyes as he spotted Tegan, clad in contemporary dress, seated in the interior.

“Ah, and you know-“

“That amount of power could only be generated from something not contemporary to these ships. And if they are built only from exterior influence, then something must have allowed for you to have that weapon on board.”

Wrack smiled and held out her hand to him. Reluctantly, he turned from the window and offered his arm to her. He eyed the surrounding sailors with distaste. Their swords were, as he had noticed since he had come on board, were unsheathed and lying at ready at their hips. They glinted in the low light of the ready room. He reached up to loosen his necktie.

“Shall we go see our gifted weapon, Turlough?” Wrack asked sweetly. “And see if our jewels have found a new home?”

Turlough gave a weak smile and walked along the sailor lined corridor. “You do have your reception, Capitan.”

“What better time to give fireworks, my dear pet?”

Turlough gave a small smile. “An affair to remember,” he said quietly. “Very well.”

Through the dim candlelit corridors of the ship, they walked with little rhythm. Wrack’s hand on his arm was misleading in that the pressure was angled to keep him from straying. Down two stairwells and into the bowels of the ship, he accompanied the Eternal. It was the second time he had walked that route. “On which ship will you concentrate fire?” Turlough asked calmly.

“Any and all that have accepted my gifts,” Wrack smiled, her heavily made-up lips smiling wide over her white teeth. “A kiss of death isn’t personally particular, Turlough. I do believe that Davey is one of the few ships that can beat me to the end of this race and to the prize.”

“Enlightenment.” Turlough said decisively.

“The power to make all dreams come true.” Turlough suppressed a shiver at the tone Wrack used. It hovered somewhere between erotic and menacing. He didn’t know whether to allow the erection he felt sprouting or to cover his tail and run.

At the final door, she dropped his arm and reached out to punch in a code. He wondered quickly as to why she wasn’t hiding the code, but realized that she was allowing him to see for one of two reasons. One, she would change it in the future or viewed him as no threat or two: would kill him later.

They stepped through the red lined door and into a room that appeared, for all intents of purpose, open to space. He walked out on what he knew to be an extended shield often used on military vehicles to channel energy from fire as well as to redirect electrostatic shocks from interstellar clouds. What he wasn’t prepared for was the use in this room. He had never been in any ship that simply allowed him to walk on the shield. But here it was commonplace, it seemed.

Wrack walked, her hips swaying her silken skirts across the open space. Turlough leaned back against the giving but still there shield with his arms crossed. The woman smiled at him and raised her well manicured hands to hold her brow.

Muttering like the droning of a thousand bees filled the air, swirling images like in a dream seemed to flood Turlough’s mind. He closed his eyes to avoid the main onslaught of the almost drug induced images. He listened to her voice, heard it become superimposed with the Guardians and then finally culminating in a shout.

He blinked his eyes open as Davies ship, a beautiful multi-mast monster, exploded before his eyes. Brilliant, like a sunburst, it seared his eyes and heralded the death of a ship, like a star.

**

Tegan gripped the Doctor’s arm as the ship rocked with the disturbance. With a grimace, he gripped her hand and ran for the main reception room. It lay at the back of the ship, with large windows that showed, if it had been on the sea, the retreating visage of the voyage taken. This time, it showed a brilliant starburst and explosion of a ship.

“Oh my God!”

“Rassilon, not again.”

Tegan and the Doctor stumbled back, falling in with the other observers as they watched the sparks and fire lap against another ship. She had to blink to keep it from searing her retinas and the Doctor turned her a little toward his chest.

“Was it-“

“It wasn’t the Shadow,” the Doctor said as he nodded slowly. “It was the buccaneer…” He whispered. “Captain Davey’s ship.”

“That had to crew about 200.”

The Doctor loosened his hold to lean her back from his chest and he brushed his thumbs down her cheeks to wipe the tears that were falling. “Hush, Tegan. Don’t cry.” He glanced around and Tegan did the same as she sniffed. “These Eternals will have a may day celebration with your mind and your emotions.”

She blinked at him and he caressed her cheek warmly. “Concentrate, think of a peaceful place, a special place when you were a child…did you have one? Ah, yes…” he breathed. “Think of it, your special place. Imagine yourself there. Separate your emotions from yourself, you can deal with them later…”

Tegan found she could look nowhere but at the Doctor’s intense blue gaze. “You can deal with them later,” he repeated.

She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Later.”

The Eternal’s milled around, sipping their drinks as they watched the fire and sparks dissipate. Tegan fought to put a smile on her face. The Doctor took two glasses of champagne as the server passed and handed one to her. “Sip this. It’ll help if they do try to get in your mind.”

Mariner appeared at Tegan’s right side. “It is a mild narcotic,” he confirmed. “It won’t cause damage to her; it’ll calm her mind if anything.”

The Doctor took a sip and nodded approvingly. “Definitely a stronger vintage than on your ship, Mariner.”

“She is a more powerful vintage mind eater,” Mariner shared a ghost of a smile with the Doctor.

The Doctor put his glass down on the table and licked his lips for a moment. “Mariner…”

“You have finally come to one of my soirées, I see,” Wrack said quietly. Tegan was startled into movement by the presence of a taller, darker woman at her elbow. She was immediately shocked by the vibrant blue silk and leather she wore. And her heavy makeup. “And who is this vibrant creature you’ve brought to me, Mariner?”

“This vibrant creature’s Tegan Jovanka,” Tegan said with a menacing tone. The Doctor smothered a smile as he pressed his hand against his companion’s back.

“Ah, vibrant and strong; such a wonderful gift, Mariner.”

Tegan started as she felt Mariner’s hand against her back as well. “She’s a member of the Shadow’s crew, Wrack. I wouldn’t cross Striker.”

“And if I promise to leave her mind her own…” Wrack smiled. “May I borrow her? There are many here that would love to meet her.”

The Doctor glanced at Mariner. The Eternal returned the glance with a knowledgeable one of his own that almost made his blue eyes seem alive. “I believe,” the Doctor said, “that Tegan would gladly meet the other guests. Wouldn’t you, Tegan?”

She turned, angry at his presumption. But he leaned forward to press a whisper light kiss to her lips. “You’ll be fine, Tegan, I promise.”

Tegan narrowed her eyes for a moment, but was hit with an image of the Doctor sitting at a table holding her hand. His rose lips whispered: trust me. And she saw the same sentiment mirrored in his eyes. And then the image faded to leave her looking at her lover in the golden candlelight of the reception room.

Wrack smiled and held out her hand to Tegan and she stepped away from her lover and into the group of people. “Tegan!” The Doctor called and smiled as she turned to look back at him. “Remember what I told you.”

She nodded and stepped away into the crowd. She knew why he was separating from her. She just hoped it worked out for him.

Enlighten(part4)

2006-09-20T17:05:33Z

Tegan stumbled into the wheelhouse holding the Doctor’s hand and saw Saturn in absolutely beautiful presentation in the viewscreen. She had imagined that space was black and white, but since traveling with the Doctor, she had learned that it was hues and shades and all the colors of the rainbow. Saturn wasn’t the black and white image she had heard about with telescopes, it was blue and green and yellow and purple. The rings were like floating icicles catching a sun’s ray.

She stood close in the door and stared at the view. It was absolutely beautiful and absolutely absurd in the window of an Edwardian sailing ship.

Of course she was wrong about the Universe; how could she have known? How would anyone believe her if she told them?

“Where’s Turlough?” She asked the Doctor. His hand tightened on hers. She frowned at his lack of forthrightness, and her eyes were drawn to Mariner. He stared at her slightly agape. Uncomfortable, she jutted out her chin in an effort to boost her own confidence.

“Not here,” the Doctor finally rumbled.

“That’s obvious.”

She felt the Doctor tightened his back and shoulders. Mariner’s gaze was growing more personal as she stood under its scrutiny.

“Where – “

“Is the Trion?”

The Doctor frowned slightly at the interruption, his palm pressed flat against hers.

“None of you are prisoners; you may go where you choose.” Striker said without removing his gaze from the heavens.

“Could have fooled me,” Tegan groused. Her gaze was drawn to the stars as well. There, against that backdrop, was every period of Earth maritime history represented. There were Phoenicians, Greeks, Egyptians, privateers, British and Indian and Chinese. Golden and wood, gleaming like stars, each of the ships was a shining creation.

Nearest them was a Greek ship, reminding Tegan of Helen of Troy. Her slight smile was fast and gone. The viewscreen flashed brightly as they passed between the outer rings of Saturn. So bright, she closed her eyes, but then slowly blinked them open.

“Oh no!”

Debris surrounded them. And the beautiful Greek boat was gone. “What happened?!” She demanded.

Her lover was staring open-mouthed at the scene. His gaze seemed to jump from vantage point to vantage point. Searching, but not finding what he sought.

“Gravity.” Striker announced decidedly.

“Oh I doubt that,” the Doctor said quietly, but infinitely superior in its tone. “Not nearly enough at this distance. And not the rings either. No, something else.”

“Sabotage?” Mariner said the word dreamingly.

“Quite possibly.”

Tegan winced. “Bomb?”

“Nothing internal. These ships are an extension-“

“Created out of the minds of the people who crew this ship.”

“Ephemerals,” the Doctor said in a tone of voice that matched his body temperature. “Human and otherwise. Creatures with a spark of life that only serves as a light for you. Without them, you have nothing! No warmth, no light, no life! And in light of that, sir, you should watch your tone.”

Tegan had edged closer and attempted to bring the topic back on track. “If not internal….”

“External, exerted on them by another.”

“Wonderful,” Tegan breathed. “Just great.”

The Doctor grimaced.

“What about the crew-“ Tegan swallowed hard and stared at the image. There were what seemed embers bouncing around them, drawn to them. With a groan she thought of all the people on board. “What about the crew?”

Mariner drew close and the Doctor stepped forward to meet the threat. Tegan stifled the sob of horror in her throat; she wasn’t going to let the bastards see her upset.

“Transferred…” Mariner said with a slight smile. “Transferred back home.”

Tegan’s lips split in a large smile. It was a painful grin, pulling at the corners of her mouth and crinkled her eyes. She felt like crying. The crew had been saved, transferred; these creatures weren’t entirely heartless. Mariner’s lips mirrored hers. “You saved them,” she said quietly. Something made her stop and slowly shake her head. Mariner’s eyes were dead. Then with a sob, she said: “No, the things like you. They were saved. The crew was killed.”

“Where is Turlough?” The Doctor asked tightly. “In this circumstance, I have a right to know.”

**

Turlough covered his eyes as the world exploded out the window from him. Gaping, he stared as the Greek ship dissolved into a shower of sparks and burning embers. Around him, in the hall, in the grog line, he could hear the gasps of the crew as the enormity of what had happened penetrated his mind. He leaned forward slightly; he hadn’t seen explosions like that since space flight training. Fire acted like water in space. It would lap and swell, coming up against structures. And there wasn’t a clear way to control or fight something with a mind of it’s own like fire in space.

As the sparks cleared, he saw a ship beyond, dark against the brilliant ice rings. It was listing close to where the Greek ship had been and drew through the wake effortlessly. He frowned. It seemed almost careless, heartless.

“She understands my power…”

Turlough shivered and rolled his shoulders in response. He didn’t turn around, however. Something was different in the Black Guardian’s voice; it sounded like it came from a different man.

“She?”

“The Capitan of that ship, Turlough. Her name is Wrack.”

He nodded and looked down at his hands. “An ally. I hadn’t realized I would have that luxury.”

“She will kill you for me.”

Turlough chanced a glance at the man and saw a changed appearance. The face was lined; the eyes were dark and deep…and held pure hatred. “Kill me?”

“You disgust me. You wish to side with the Time Lord, the Doctor. After everything I’ve done for you…”

It took a great deal of energy to keep from loudly snorting in response to the words, but Turlough swallowed the sound. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

“She will do the job you have been unable or unwilling to do. You’ve made a terrible mistake, my boy. An enemy of both myself and Gallifrey now.”

Turlough took a deep breath. “I haven’t failed yet.”

“You will spend the rest of eternity on this ship, boy,” the Black Guardian said and Turlough saw his eyes glow a hideous red. “Or you will go to her; it matters not. You will spend eternity in hell one way or another.”

“I haven’t-“
“I say you have,” Black Guardian whispered.

**
Tegan gasped as the Doctor’s hand closed on her shoulder and relaxed as her back was brought in against his chest. His voice continued to be issued, but she felt his deep rumble through his chest. “Where is Turlough? Hmm?”

Mariner’s gaze moved from the Doctor to Tegan. The brown eyes seemed endless and deep and lifeless. His lips were white and thin, bloodless. There was little interest before his gaze alighted on her; she saw the look change, a spark of interest, like the look of a man interested in a woman that just walked in a door. A softening of the chocolate to a warm caramel. He took a deep breath. “Your Trion is on deck.”

“Deck?” Tegan whispered.

The Doctor took a deep breath; Tegan felt the Doctor’s hand take hers; his other hand enveloped her elbow. She was led to the door, but all she could see was Mariner’s endless gaze. He pulled her to the door and led her through with a gentle hand at her hip. In the corridor, his arm encircled her. “Concentrate on me, Tegan. Forget Mariner.”

She could hear the sailor’s footfalls behind them, heavy. He was following her like a moth to flame; she couldn’t get away from him no matter she did. The Doctor’s voice was deeper. “Forget Mariner, Tegan. Concentrate.”

Tegan concentrated on breathing; she couldn’t concentrate on anything else. The Doctor’s pace was fast, tripping fast and she tumbled up the stairs as he began to take them two at a time. “Why are we…”

“I have a bad feeling about all of this,” he shouted. Tegan felt her feet leave the ground as he slipped his arm around her waist and virtually carried her up the remaining steps.

“Eternals?” She gasped.

“And more,” the Doctor shouted. She heard the sound of a door rebounding against wood over her head. The Doctor’s frame filled the portal above her and then she felt the cold of space on her face. There was a slight breeze against her skin that reminded her of sailing on the lake and ocean as a small child. The only thing missing was the sound of gulls and the swish of water against weathered boards. She stumbled out into the starlit evening with a rush of breath. It was extreme opposites; black scenery around the creaking wood of a ship.

She expected no air, no breath, vacuum, but she was breathing easily. The Doctor was moving across the deck quickly, his steps sounding like shots on the wood underfoot. His hand dropped from her back and he was suddenly five feet in front of her running for the railing. She saw Turlough there. He looked different. He looked lost, young against the black of space. He looked washed out, pale and very childlike. She wondered suddenly about how young he really was.

And then she realized how he was standing. His dark suit jacket hung on his frame; his tie was undone; his hands braced him on the railing. In fact, he looked too tense on the railing, like someone preparing for something.

At the sound of the echo of the door opening, he turned his head towards them. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Help me, you said.” He gave a partial laugh. “I don’t think there can be any help for me.”

“Don’t do anything rash,” the Doctor said, suddenly slow and quiet. He held up his hands in front of him like he was fending off the evils of the universe.

Turlough glanced out at the stars. “There’s only one chance for me; you understand tactics and you know last chances are probabilities.”

“Turlough…”

The boy tensed and then sprung. The Doctor shot ahead, running as fast as he appeared to be able. Tegan ran behind him, knowing instinctively what was occurring. She forgot the Eternals, she forgot the ship and she saw herself as a six year old on her uncle’s boat. She felt the water mist on her face as her cousin had fallen overboard. She had felt the rush of panic and fear at seeing the boy flounder in the water. She had cried then, and she felt the grip in her gut that was associated with weeping. In slow motion she watched Turlough climb up on the railing and then jump into the open space.

The only thing that was different from what had happened to her as a child was that Turlough wore a glass helmet.

The Doctor reached the railing and leaned out to try and catch Turlough’s hand. Tegan got there a moment later. “Man overboard!” She screamed. “Man overboard! Get a line!”

With a groan, she watched as the Doctor missed Turlough’s hand and the boy drifted off further. “Heave to!” The Doctor yelled harshly. Twisting he turned towards the massing sailors. “Heave to! Bring the ship about! Man overboard!”

Tegan gaped, hearing the running feet and shouting men’s voices. She watched as Turlough drifted further and further from the ship, and became more like a star in the night. She saw her cousin adrift in the sea and her uncle throwing a line to him. She had cried while the men had pulled in Colin and hugged him when he was brought on board.

And she didn’t realize that she was crying until the Doctor’s hand grasped her shoulder and brought her in to his chest. “Tegan? Tegan? It’s all right. Get a line!” He yelled.

Two sailors approached the side and began to get the line rigged. “Get him,” Tegan pleaded with her voice barely above a whisper. The Doctor was shouting into the wind to get the sailors moving quicker, moving away from her. She gasped and stared at the retreating figure of Turlough. She felt a wave of elemental emotion wash over her as the Doctor turned to give a quick stare back at her and over her shoulder. She felt a pair of cool hands envelope her shoulders and the presence of a person behind her.

“They will do what they can.”

Tegan inhaled; it was Mariner. She leaned forward, pained in panic and memories, as well as avoiding the cold touch. She wanted nothing to do with him.

“Don’t, Tegan. Don’t fight. Stay with him.”

The intonation and wording, even the breath, sounded like the Doctor, but it was said in Mariner’s voice. “I won’t harm you; such emotion, such elemental feeling…” Mariner breathed.

She trained her gaze to watch Turlough. More words were said, but they all reminded her of the Doctor; Mariner wasn’t dragging her away. The Doctor ran past her to the telescope and bent over to examine the situation “That other ship…she’s heaving to!”

The other sailors leaned over the railing as the Doctor kept up a narrative on the situation as he watched. “They are throwing a net, a line. They are pulling him aboard!”

Sailors threw up a cheer as the situation seemed to resolve. Tegan began to laugh as freely as she had cried, her shoulders shaking in relief. The Doctor glanced up from the telescope to glance at her. His smile was wide; she could tell he was relieved and thankful; even in the muted starlit landscape, his blue eyes were bright. “He’s all right. He appears to be moving and breathing.”

Tegan laughed and nodded, covering her mouth at the very public display of happiness that she was exhibiting. The hands on her shoulder and elbow faded to the back of her consciousness and she concentrated only on what she sensed from the Doctor. “Thete…” she breathed. “Thank God.”

“Thank whomever you like,” he agreed, but then the show of emotion doused in his face and he straightened to his full height. His smile dimmed and he stepped away from the telescope. In two steps he was at her side and had his hands on her shoulders. There was a lessening in the pressure at her shoulders; Mariner had released her. She stepped forward into the one armed embrace that the Doctor offered to her. “Thank you, Mariner.”

Now able to face the Eternal, Tegan looked at the being that had held her. His face was a little flushed; his eyes bright; his mouth slightly agape. To her addled mind, he looked as though he had been given a taste of heaven and was slowly watching it being taken away from him.

“I never knew.” Mariner’s gaze trained on the Doctor and then traveled down to meet hers. “I never knew emotion could be so…powerful…so gripping. So…hot.”

Tegan frowned and the Doctor nodded slowly. “Tegan is a human empath, a weak one, but she broadcasts her emotions more easily than she intuits others feelings. You taste that which is raw, that which makes a human a human and what makes Tegan, Tegan, Mariner. Those were her thoughts, her emotions-“

“Which she would rather not have out like a bloody wine tasting, thank you very much,” Tegan growled. She leaned closer to the Doctor. As he shifted his gaze down at her face, the ship tilted slightly, and his arm hardened to hold her against his chest and to steady them.

She put her hand out to touch the side of the wheelhouse, feeling the rough wood against her skin as the ship listed on its side more. They were turning. Staring out at the scene, she saw something like a moon nearing. “Titan,” the Doctor said quietly. They balanced on their feet as other ships, including the one that had picked up Turlough, turned and circled the moon. Like a cosmic horse race, the ships jockeyed for position as they passed the planetoid below them.

“Turlough?” She finally asked.

“Taken on the ship and seemed alive and well,” he replied in answer. He glanced behind them to the stairwell. “We have to get on that ship and get him back.”

“Did you hear what he said?” Tegan pressed. “Did you hear what Turlough said? Last chances…help?”
“I think that means he was seriously considering my proposal. I think my throwing a spanner in his works has caused major problems with his employer,” the Doctor whispered. “He was taking his last chance.”

“I don’t much like him, but I don’t like the sound of that, Thete.”

“Hmm.”

The Doctor released her waist and grabbed her hand. She barely kept up with his pace as he strode for the door. Mariner, appearing like he was coming out of a dream, followed.

“Why did Mariner act that way…” Tegan asked as they began down the steps.

The Doctor’s hand squeezed hers and he pulled her down so that she was walking just in front of him down the stairs. “You were having a memory of another time and crying. I gather you watched someone fall over the side of a boat or a someone that had drown…”

“My cousin Colin.”

“I’m sorry….did he?”

“Die? No, but he was five and I was six when it happened. All I saw was Colin going down a third time when I saw Turlough out in space. I was…I”

“It’s understandable,” the Doctor whispered. “I felt your emotions; you practically bowled Mariner over with them. You are broadcasting your emotions better, stronger. Your empathy is growing.” He frowned. “I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing, however, Tegan.”

She shrugged, her shoulder against his chest. “Not like I can help it.”

“We’ll work on it, Tegan.” The Doctor reached ahead of them to open the door. “Soon.”

As they stepped inside from the deck, out of the stairwell, Mariner drew even with them. “It was like tasting…life.” The Eternal said simply. “Vibrant and wonderful.” The Doctor moved Tegan closer to him and frowned.

“I’m not a piece of fruit!” Tegan nearly screamed. “You think you can bloody well-“

“Tegan.” The Doctor’s voice was gentle and strong at the same time. “Hush.” He turned and eyed Mariner as he led Tegan, by their joined hands, to stand behind him. “Mariner, Tegan is very human and as such projects her emotions well. We can discuss this later. I must get on that ship to get Turlough.”

Mariner slowly trained his gaze on Tegan. “Wrack pilots that ship; she is ruthless. I wouldn’t even plan on Turlough living for long. The Trion will die at her hands.”

“That’s awful callous,” Tegan hissed. “We’ve got to do something. We’ve got to get over there.”

Mariner gave a small smile as he held out his hand in a very gracious manner. The Doctor bowed slightly and placed his hand at Tegan’s back to lead her into the wheelhouse. With a sigh, she allowed the touch and the lead. She felt almost sad, let down from the adrenaline rush. The creaking wood and smell of salt kissed tar covered oak made her feel at home, eased. The deep breath she took was echoed by the Doctor.

“There is a reception on board her ship. There always is during our…times.” Striker said quietly. To Tegan, it looked like the man hadn’t moved from his position since they had run for the deck. “We have never attended the party. It is not…”

“…proper?” The Doctor offered. He gave Tegan a partial smile. “Sounds like it isn’t quite cricket.”

Striker continued to scan the heavens with the binoculars. And the Doctor stepped forward and even with Striker at the head of the wheelhouse. He nodded slowly. “Allowing us to attend her reception would allow us to get back Turlough with little or no trouble to you.”

“It has little or nothing to do with us…the life of this Trion.”

“Someone has sabotaged another ship in this race. Logic has dictated that the possibility of the saboteur is part of the ship pack here; it wouldn’t be internal, but rather external, yes? There is a possibility that the saboteur could be on Wrack’s ship.”

“By that logic, Time Lord, the saboteur could be on any ship.”

“Then it would be in our best interest to investigate any of the other ships. Unless you can reach into their minds, Striker; it would be one of the few things we can do to insure our safety.”

Striker seemed unmoved and continued to stare at the heavens. “We will simply transfer if that does occur.”

Tegan inhaled. “Heartless! What of the crew? What of the people on this ship who aren’t….like you?!”

The Doctor held up his hand and patted the air; it was his warning to her to stem her anger. “But to allow that to happen is hardly in the spirit of the game, don’t you think? Allow Tegan and I to go to Wrack’s ship: we can collect Turlough and investigate the ship.”

Striker looked through the binoculars for three minutes before he answered. “How you choose to end your life is none of my concern. We may need your navigational assistance again; I cannot allow you to go without an assurance of your return.”

“Then let me offer something of value to offset that worry.”

Tegan stared at the Doctor’s back and watched as he straightened his back, and tightened his stance in response. Striker weighed the option and then turned towards the Time Lord. “Which would be?”

Mariner’s eyes brightened slightly and Tegan shifted uneasily. Then, as if in a trance, Mariner spoke. The words and tone were very like the Doctor’s, although the voice was Mariner’s.

“I offer my mind. You can see my thoughts; you will know my direction. I will not allow Tegan to remain behind, as I think you are assuming I might. She will remain with me, but my mind is open for you to view, to see my course of action, to know my thoughts. I will allow navigation if I can insure Turlough’s and Tegan’s safety.”

Striker turned completely to stare at Mariner as the junior Eternal slowly nodded. In his own voice he said: “It is his thoughts; I can see his mind.”

With a low grunt, Tegan shook her head. “No.”

The Doctor gave a short, quick, wan smile and turned to Tegan. “I believe that they will be unable to pass on seeing a Time Lord’s mind.” He reached out his hand to her. She stepped forward to take his cool hand in hers.

Striker slowly smiled and nodded. “Very well.”

The Doctor squeezed Tegan’s hand and turned from the viewscreen and the officers. “Shall we prepare, Tegan? We have a reception to attend.”

Enlighten(part3)

2006-09-20T16:59:57Z

“What have you done?” Tegan demanded. The door to the room where they had been placed had shut decisively only moments before. Even prior to the door shutting, he had begun to pace, passing Tegan as he made straight laps about the room. “Thete, what was he talking about: breaking an essential law of the Universe?”

He slowed as he approached a window. His eyebrows arched over his eyes and he rubbed his lips for a moment. Then his fist lightly pounded the sill next to the glass. “Exactly what he said, Tegan.”

“What essential law?” Tegan approached him.

“Never to aid or abet Eternals.” He smiled wryly. “It ranks up there with never drive one’s TARDIS into a supernova.”

She joined him at the glass and stared out of it. Around them were the moons of Jupiter and they were in the rings of the planet. It was a beautiful vantage point and framed by the dark wood and smoky glass of an Edwardian ship, it gained a nostalgic aura. “Why?”
“They are like a virus, Tegan,” he said quietly. After a long, deep sigh, he nodded. “And like a virus, they spread and kill as simply a byproduct to their existence. A virus simply lives to live. Eternals exist to exist. I don’t think they understand death; they don’t understand their own nor do they understand the end of lives around them. They’re painfully straightforward.”

He looked down at her. “They have minds, but exist partially in a collective conscience…except it’s everyone else’s conscience and not just their own species. They take our thoughts, our minds and read them like a child’s book. They aren’t evil, they aren’t good…but they will try to live wherever, whenever they find themselves. And most of the time it is in direct contradiction to life around them. I suppose the best description would be that of….a child in a china shop knocking over plates to get at the candy. The broken plates are incidental.”

“So we’re the plates?”

“Everyone in this Universe is the plates and saucers to the Eternals, Tegan. And I’m the poor bloke that’s left open the door to the shop.” He shifted and rubbed at his lips again. “It’s why we were to never allow movement of Eternals in this Universe; simply their existence will throw everything into havoc.”

“Wonderful,” she breathed and rubbed her arms. “Just wonderful.” She glanced back at him. “Then why-“

“Because they would have allowed the death of everyone on this ship, including you and Turlough, just to gratify their selfish need of interest. Completely disheartening.”

“You didn’t have to…”

He sighed and reached out to lay his hand on her shoulder and then brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “Didn’t I?

She blinked and shuffled to the only place to sit in the room. It was a bed, raised on a dais in the center of the room which faced the side of the ship with the large window overlooking the cosmic view. For a moment she contemplated him and then shook her head. “And the first immutable law of the cosmos for Time Lords is never to get involved, isn’t it?”

He smiled tightly. “Quite. I’ve broken both, I’m afraid.”

Tegan sighed. “So what do we do? If you’ve given them passage…how do we stop them from moving about in the Universe?”

The Doctor leaned against the wall and looked out the window again. “I don’t entirely know, Tegan. But we shall try what we can.”

She looked down at her feet and then up at him as he walked across the room to her. “They can see everything in our minds?”

“That is what I’ve heard about them, yes,” he said quietly. He puffed a breath. “Nothing is hidden from them.”

“Meaning?”

“Well,” he glanced at the door and then nodded. “We’ll be given the run of the ship. They can determine where we’re going before we even know. We’ll have to do things without any planning. And I think…”

“What?”

He gazed at her for a moment and opened and closed his mouth, working towards saying something. But when he talked, it seemed as though he was saying something he hadn’t planned on saying. “Stay with me at all times, Tegan. No questions, no wandering off. I don’t trust Turlough; I don’t trust the Eternals.”

**

“HE doesn’t trust me.”

Turlough said the words to the crystal in his hand but lowered his hand when the Black Guardian appeared. “He doesn’t trust me in the least. He is keeping that woman and he sequestered away from me for most of the time. I believe he is deliberately putting her into harms way in an effort to keep me from having access to her.”

“Fool.”

Turlough winced at the words said. He lowered his hand but the crystal felt like it weighed a ton. And it cut his palm. In a flash, he wryly thought of blood pacts between friends close enough for brothers…oaths he himself had taken at one time.

“He has guessed you.”

“He may do,” Turlough whispered. Then with a shake of his head, he raised his gaze to the Guardian. “But he is in a corner.”

“You know of the Eternals,” the Black Guardian said as he smiled. His hand turned his glass of liquor away from his face and gazed at it. “Good, my boy,” he continued without waiting for an agreement or disagreement. “I had hoped you had some knowledge of the Universe.”

“I know of them,” Turlough stressed. He closed his hand more firmly on the crystal. “The myths-“

“Myths? Now you disappoint me.”

“Myths with truth. That they are beings with immense power. That if they enter the continuum, the Universe will be overwhelmed. And that the Time Lords were charged as the gatekeeper.”

“A charge that the Doctor has obviously disobeyed,” the Guardian said, the smile evident in his voice.

Turlough shrugged. “He is in check, rapidly approaching checkmate. He has only one option. And that option places Tegan firmly in my care. I hold his outcome in the palm of my hand.”

“Then,” the Guardian said quietly with menace. “Then find this end…quickly.”

**

“You are our guest.”

Tegan sighed at the comment. How many times in the past had they been called ‘guests’ only to be treated to being shot at and tortured. “Like a fly in a bloody spider’s web,” she mumbled. The Doctor’s hand in hers tightened but a small smile fleetingly graced his lips.

“An allusion,” Mariner said quietly with a nod. “Interesting.” He led them along the darkened hallway towards what appeared to be a well candle-lit room that was large. “But we will not eat you.”

“Thank goodness for that,” the Doctor whispered. With practiced nonchalance, he slid his hand into his pocket. A practiced curt nod indicated the gathering room ahead. “Serving a meal perchance?”

“The Capitan has requested you at his table.”

“Ah…we’ll be delighted to join you! Won’t we, Tegan?” She barely had a chance to nod in response before the Doctor turned his attention back to Mariner. To her practiced ears, the words had been said with all the false cheeriness he could muster. “I assume that you have invited my other char-“

“The Trion, Turlough,” Mariner said with his face as a mask. His eyes were straight ahead; his chin neither set nor lax. “You consider him a charge? A Trion?”

“I consider him young.”

Mariner stopped at the door, his hand on the wood. He made contact with the Doctor’s gaze and then looked at Tegan. “Young, but with a mind like a Gallifreyan.”

“Trion is A3.”

Tegan started, her mind remembering a conversation from long ago. “Gallifrey is A7,” she whispered.

The Doctor appeared not to worry about the situation. “He is almost too young. We shall be diligent in our watchfulness, but we have nothing to fear.”

Mariner’s expression did not change. “There is always something you Ephemerals fear.”

Tegan shivered. Mariner’s eyes were so clear they appeared glass over water. “He is not to be underestimated.”

The Doctor searched the beings gaze for a moment and gave a curt nod.

**

Tegan found her hands tightly wrapped around the back of the chair as she entered the room. Even here, the smell of brine soaked wood and tar was strong. She had an excellent feeling to open the window, but the blackness outside deterred her.

The table was set as if for a formal dinner complete with china and crystal. Under the candlelight the articles sparkled, twinkled like the stars. The vibrant color of the wine and food served to ground the astral quality it all had.

The Doctor stood next to her and with a whispered: ‘May I?’, he helped to seat her. Mariner took the seat next to her and the Doctor tightly smiled in response. The Capitan sat after Tegan and before anyone else could take the seat, the Doctor sat down hard on the chair to her left. She felt relatively safe except for Mariner’s presence and the sudden addition of another person sliding into the seat across the table from her.

“This ship is truly amazing,” Turlough said clearly as he pulled his chair up under the table. The polite smile on his face troubled her. “The technology, no…the sheer ability to be able to manipulate matter….”

“Not unlike block computation,” the Doctor offered as he sipped his wine.

“Ah,” Striker said as he lifted his own glass to his lips. “Time Lords attempt at transforming matter through the power of labor.”

The Doctor smiled tightly, but Tegan could see his temper rising. “Yes, quite…but we can’t all have your talent.”

Seemingly appeased, Striker sat back in his chair and smiled. Before they could take two bites, a whistle sounded and Mariner and Striker rose and exited the room.

“Call to arms,” Tegan offered to a surprise Turlough. “And enemy or friendly ship has been sighted…or something…” she said as she realized that maritime law and tradition had very little to do with the stars outside. “They will return soon.”

“All this technology,” Turlough responded in kind. “And they adhere to something as innocuous and arcane as a Terran shipping ritual?”

“It’s not the tools you use to play the game, Turlough; it’s how well you do. And in this instance,” the Doctor said as he swirled his wine glass. “Where the rules are all they have binding them to this plane of existence…well…it’s in their best interest to adhere. Else why choose this particular place…this particular form?”

Turlough frowned then nodded. “Self-limitation.”

“Of sorts, of the exercise of free will…” the Doctor took a sip of wine and frowned. “It really depends on your outlook: pessimistic or optimistic. This wine contains a slight hallucinogenic compound.”

Tegan put down the glass with a grimace without taking a sip.

The Doctor continued while taking another sip. “What have you learned, Turlough?”

“That the ship uses some sort of ion drive combined with solar winds for direction.”

The Doctor nodded. “And the crew?”

“Appear as normal humans,” Turlough offered.

Tegan nearly choked. “Without having a fright from space around them? I think not.”

Footsteps were heard in the corridor as the Doctor tapped on the glass. “This must be in the grog as well. Stay close you two, I’ll have to work on how to end this.”

**

By the end of the male, Tegan felt disembodied. Her head swam slightly, her body felt loose and not properly connected. The food had been very good, but she now felt ill. She rose from her chair, only to sway slightly and to lose a little balance. Mariner watched her with interest with eyes as deep as night and as endless as space. She felt searched; she felt violated; she felt much worse.

A cool hand on her arm shocked her back into her own head. She opened her eyes, not realizing that she had closed them.

“Tegan?”

“I feel….” She searched for a word. “Seasick.”

She said it concisely, but it didn’t quite seem to fit the feeling.

The hand moved. It was around her waist.

“Allow me…” Mariner’s voice said quietly. “I will escort the lady to your cabin…”

“That won’t be necessary,” the Doctor responded. The arm tightened. “We quite know the way. Turlough, would you like to come with us?” But he didn’t wait for an answer as he steered Tegan out of the well-lit room and into the corridor.

**

“Symptoms?”

Even Turlough reacted to the strong tones in the Doctor’s voice. His steps faltered a little as they began up the staircase towards the guest rooms in the next level. Tegan’s steps were unsure and the Doctor gathered Tegan up in one move and held her as he went up the steps. For once, the girl didn’t argue and remained quiet in his arms. “Tegan, symptoms.”

“My stomach…”

“Like before? Like previously?”

“No no…” she sighed. He shouldered a door open and stepped quickly inside. Turlough kept the door from rebounding by putting his hand against the hard wood. By the time he put his weight against the door to stand in the jamb, the Doctor had his knee on the bed while laying Tegan on the mattress. She shook her head. “Cripes, we haven’t…Thete…we didn’t…”

“Yes, my nanities shouldn’t be affecting you.” He agreed. He settled her head on the pillow and frowned. His coat tails were moved aside as he sat down, his arms resting on his knees. He leaned forward, humming under his breath. Careful fingers opened her eyes wide as he glanced at her face. “Hmmm…some papillary response.”

She frowned. “What’s that when it’s at home?”

Turlough shut the door. “IT means that there is some sort of chemical….”

“Or cerebral physiological reaction that is affecting your eyes ability to take in light. It might possibly be a reaction to mental…” The Doctor glanced around the room quickly and then rose before he finished his sentence to stalk towards the chest of drawers in the corner.

“Mental…what?”

“Hmm? Mental attack, I suppose,” the Doctor replied quietly.

“Why did you think it was your nanites?” Turlough asked innocently as he looked at his nails.

Tegan’s face flushed red in anger, but it was the Doctor that responded, turning quickly to stare at the boy. “Let’s not play naïve, Turlough; it doesn’t suit you. You very well know how my nanites have played havoc with Tegan’s physiology. And why. It’s part of your purpose here.”

The Doctor reached to take the decanter of rum before he slowly crossed to stand in front of Turlough. “What do you mean?” Turlough’s voice was measured, tight and seemed a bit overdone to Tegan’s ears.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath, turning to Tegan. “I have a theory, Tegan. The rum might actually alleviate the symptoms of mental intrusion.”

“And…” he continued, staring at Turlough. “No, completely removing her from here is not an option at the moment.” His eyes narrowed. “What I mean, Turlough, is that you well know that Tegan is my Yentria. You know what a Yentria is. And you well know what prolonged separation from Tegan will do to me.”

Turlough stood impassively as the Doctor rose to approach him. “You’ve been sent to throw a spanner in the works, to interrupt my purpose and or missions. Have I got it right so far, hmm? And for a purpose of your own, I would expect. You are giving payment in kind. Removal from Earth? Probably. Return to Trion? Very probably.

“Involvement in Gallifreyan politics is inadvisable; to meddle with the forces you have is disastrous, young Trion. Be advised: where one extreme exists so does the other. One defines the other. It is best to side with neither.”

Turlough’s face remained impassive. The Doctor apparently wasn’t looking for a response and quickly turned back to Tegan. She was seated in the bed now, looking angry and shocked. “But trust this, young Turlough: I will not allow Tegan to be harmed. Not by you, not by the forces that side with you. You have my word upon that.” He poured Tegan a glass of rum and held it to her. “Cheers, Tegan. We mightn’t be able to stop them from intruding on your mind, but we can nullify the effects.”

As Tegan sipped the rum, she gazed at the Doctor’s eyes. They were ice blue and the gaze was steely. A part of her cringed. This was the gaze of a Time Lord set upon intimidation; this was a gaze of a male encountering a threat.

“Thete,” she said as she lowered the cup. He held up a hand to forestall any utterance.

“Choose, Turlough: move your piece. Up until now I have strove to protect you. Now: all bets are off. My piece will be moved to nullify the powers at work with you….here…”

Turlough narrowed his eyes. “Here?”

“Coincidences never happen. Contrivances do. But I will move to nullify the threats personal.” His gaze met Tegan’s. “And galactic. And I will not mind the eggs in the basket.”

Turlough stared at the back of the Doctor’s head. Then slowly, bloody methodically to Tegan’s gaze, he turned and opened the door.

“I can help you,” the Doctor added quietly. “With no strings attached. Now. Or indeed later. You need only ask. Remember that, Turlough, when you make your decision.”

The door shut quietly and left a feeling of emptiness in the room.

“Was that-“

“Very necessary.” The Doctor sighed. “It puts us on very equal ground. Both defensive and offensive. “ He smiled. “And he knows I know you were his target. At least as a personal attack.” He brushed his fingers down her cheek. She was startled by the tenderness. “It’ll make it that much more a challenge.”

“What is more of a challenge?”

“Either influencing you to leave me or to physically separate you from me for long enough to cause a regeneration, that is the challenge. He knows he won’t be able to do it now; we’ve covered that angle.”

“Thete, he’s not the type to give up on something that easily.”

“Very true,” the Doctor nodded. “So now we’re forcing the issue. Nice to corral him into a neat corner, eh?”

“Which corner would that be?” Tegan asked testily. “Please tell me it isn’t one on a cliff-face.”

“He’ll have to do something directly to me. Which I do doubt he’ll do…too tricky to manage. So I rather think he’ll push the issue with his ‘employers’.”

“Which-“

“-is rather what I’ll hope he’ll do.” He smiled at Tegan and chuckled at her expression. “I would rather like to meet him or her.”

She sighed and shook her head. With a shift, she stood a little wobbly on her feet. The Doctor’s hands fell automatically to her hips to hold her steady as she uneasily gained her footing. “”Where are we going? And what exactly are we going to do when we meet this…employer.”

“We are going to the wheelhouse,” he said cheerily as he patted her hips. “And when we meet Turlough’s employer, I would recommend saying hello.”
**

Turlough edged into the crew cabin and was both happy and saddened that there were no wayward Edwardian sailors hanging about in the shadows. He pressed back against the wall and took a deep breath. The crystal was a heavy weight in his pocket and an even heavier one on his mind.

The Doctor knew he was onto a vulnerable variable. That wasn’t surprising. Turlough smiled ruefully and tapped his closed fist against the wall. Time Lords were the subject of study. He had slept through half the classes; had been enraptured by the others. His father had urged him and his sister to listen intently. And when he had gotten older and into tactical training, he had listened very intently.

Time Lords had once been the power behind the Great Consolidation of the Second Expanse. They had peppered the Universe with bow ships and armies that rivaled God’s. They had outfoxed, out-thought and outfought everyone and every society able to launch any sort of force into interstellar space. Through sheer thought, will and force, they had brought a Universe to its knees and put it in order. Then came the second era of the Second Expanse; places like Sol 3 and Alpha Centuri started their long climb. Trion was an older planet. They sat back, under the leadership of Gallifrey, and watched evolution occur.

And then, suddenly, Gallifreyans became Time Lords. Time travel. But this only made their tactics take on a fourth dimension. But Trions were nothing if not avid learners.

And Turlough had always loved a challenge.

He tapped his hand three times quickly. But he wanted to see his family again, wanted to return to Trion, wanted to be part of the rebellion force again. Guardians were elemental and eternal. But he was no fool; elements didn’t remain on your side for long. But Time Lords were ephemeral; they could be worked upon and allied….not befriended…never befriended. There was the possibility of transient trust.

So challenge a Time Lord or ally with a Time Lord and learn from him.

Turlough leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.

Enlightened (part2)

2006-09-20T16:56:07Z

Please let me know if you have any suggestions on changes before this hits my website or Teaspoon...I'm all for changes. Flames are kindly used for smore-making.

“Hell’s teeth!”

The Doctor reflexively stepped in front of Tegan. In the next moment, all she could see was his cream coat covered shoulders.

“You are stowaways,” rumbled a low voice. The words were a warning; the tone was a threat.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Turlough asked sarcastically.

“Cripes, you have terrible timing,” she said over her shoulder. A glance back toward the boy showed that his face was guarded, not scared.

The Doctor gave Turlough a sharp look. “Yes, well, granted we aren’t…ticketed passengers on the trip, but I can assure you that we are not stowaways.”

The lead ‘officer’ (Tegan figured that was who he was, after all, he was in front and had the nicest uniform), met the Doctor’s stare and then glanced down at her. The gaze was deep, penetrating, almost paralyzing. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, simply that they were infinitely deep…like space.

As the gaze fell on her, the Doctor’s hand tightened on hers and he seemed to shield her more with his body.

The officer’s eyes returned to the Time Lord and a smile bloomed on his face. It seemed alien, dangerous, but Tegan could sense it was meant to be deceptively friendly.

“Ah, you must be the one we were told would be arriving. A Time Lord…”

Tegan nearly choked.

“The Doctor, I believe,” the officer continued.

Tegan could hear the surprise in Turlough, in the shifting of his body, in the sigh that escaped his lips.

“I am he,” the Doctor rumbled.

“This way, sir?” The officer turned his back and began to lead the way. The Doctor, however, hung back, his hand firmly encasing Tegan’s.

“And you are?” Tegan could hear the warning tone in the Doctor’s voice; she knew him, to others, she supposed he sounded friendly.

“I am Mr. Mariner…first mate on this ship…which I believe you know as the Shadow. The Captain is Striker.”

The Doctor nodded politely, but Tegan yanked on his arm as they started down the hall. “Who are these people, Thete?”

“I don’t know,” he said precisely.

“Well, they certainly know you.”

The Doctor’s hand turned in hers to press his palm against hers and entwined their fingers. “Interesting, isn’t it? Stay close.”

As they approached a T in the corridor, Mariner turned back to them. “I’m afraid Miss Tegan cannot accompany us.”

The Doctor drew up short. “She is my companion, she can-“

“We are venturing in the crew quarters; there are no other women. Miss Tegan-“

“How do you know my name?”

“Miss Tegan should stay here until such a time that we have a place for her…”

The Doctor’s hand tightened on hers as she opened her mouth. “She will remain with me.”

Turlough’s tight voice entered the discussion with a quiet tired draw that Tegan both recognized and despised. It grated on her nerves almost as much as the creaking floorboards did. “Doctor, I think she-“

“Yes, Turlough,” the Doctor’s voice overrode the boy’s in both tone and force. “I quite understand, but if you don’t mind, Tegan shall remain with me.”

“Too right,” Tegan breathed. There was something spooky about this place; something about it seemed older than a ship. Something…weird. And it made her head ache.

The Doctor nodded. Mariner stared at Tegan and then waved for them to follow him. Tegan barely kept up with the Doctor’s long strides. She jogged a little, stumbling after him. At a door, Mariner stopped and waved his hand toward the portal. “You may wait here,” he said simply. “I cannot allow you further without the Captain’s permission.”

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow and reached for the door handle. Tegan tugged on his sleeve as plaintive low masculine voices could be heard beyond in the room. “Do you recognize the uniform?” She whispered.

“Edwardian British,” the Doctor said quietly. “Stay close.”

**
The door opened into a little room, most of the wall space was taken by bunks and a large square table occupied the center of the room. The wood was dark and the window small; therefore, there was little or not light to illuminate those inside.

As far as Tegan could count, there were ten men. And all ten were staring at them.

“Oi,” one of the men stood. “The girl has to leave, it ain’t decent!”

The Doctor stepped into the room, pulling Tegan in as well.

“Hey!”

“Gentlemen,” the Doctor said quietly. “I’m a new crew member and my wife here has come along. We’re only here until they can provide adequate lodging for her.”

The one man that had jumped up grunted as he regained his seat. “Bad luck- girl beneath decks.”

“Quite,” the Doctor agreed. He saw the door behind them closing and he frowned. Turlough looked none too happy.

Tegan lifted her chin and returned the glare as the men stared at her. The Doctor, however, moved in front of her and, without preamble, hefted her to the top bunk. In the next moment, he took off his coat and laid it across her legs.

The men didn’t attempt conversation; they simply stared.

“Stay put, Tegan,” the Doctor said quietly as he moved to stand in front of her.

Tegan glanced at the Doctor and then to Turlough who edge up alongside the Time Lord. “Will they harm us or her?”

The Doctor gave him a sideways glance and shook his head. “They wouldn’t, but having a woman in front of them is like offering a glass of water to a man dying of thirst.”

“Then why did you bring her in here?”

Tegan grimaced. “Because I’m safer with him than anywhere else.”

“Do you understand how untrue that is?” Turlough asked quickly. The look on Turlough’s face was both bland curiosity and strong disbelief.

The Doctor turned his gaze on the boy. Tegan couldn’t quite see his face, but could interpret the sheer feeling of weight around them. “I don’t recall asking for your input.”

Turlough looked down at his hands and shrugged. “This place…it seems oppressive….”

The Doctor continued gazing at him and then nodded.

“I’ll keep an eye on ‘er.”

The Time Lord twisted to look at the man that approached him. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’d keep an eye on ‘er. These boy aren’t been ta land in several months. What the officers got for her here is beyond me. We’ve gotta storm and she’s a blowing up fast.”

The Doctor smiled at the man. “Well they do say that lower in a ship is better than higher in a storm.”

“Aye, they’re getting ready for a rough one.” Ominously, the ship swayed from side to side with his words.

“When it gets worse, lad….we may need you on deck. You and the boy. Able-handed, are ya?”

The Doctor nodded. “If I leave Tegan?...”

“We’ll take care of her, isn’t that right, boys?”

“I don’t like the sound of that…” Tegan muttered. The Doctor turned and looked at her, leaning into the bed. “Shouldn’t we go back to the TARDIS?”

“No, there’s something going on here…and the TARDIS is a bit grounded. Until we realize why it was brought here.” He bent a little and looked in her eyes. “If I leave, if Turlough and I have to go…remain here with the young lads. They won’t dare lay a hand on you.”

The shaking grew worse over the next hour. And then the sailors were called to the rigging. The Doctor handed Tegan his coat, hat and sweater, disappearing out the door with a whispered: “Braveheart.”

**

After five hours, Tegan had given up being awake. She lay on the top bunk, curled into the wall, facing out into the room. The ship swayed harshly from side to side. With some clarity of thought, she had tied herself to the bed with the Doctor’s coat. True to what the Doctor had said no one had hurt her, or even approached her.

“Wake up, Tegan…” the words were said urgently. She blinked her eyes open to see the Doctor by the side of the bunk. The storm raced outside, she could hear it in the howling wind, in the rain slapping against the glass..

“What’s wrong?”

His face, illuminated in the weak candlelight, held a great deal of concern. The pain in his eyes was clear to see. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” he voiced and reached for her. His hands worked feverishly to untie the coat’s arms from around her. When the coat loosened, he gathered her and the coat up in one move. “We have to get to the TARDIS.” Only when they got to the corridor, did he release her legs.

“What’s happening?” She demanded. “Cripes, are we sinking?”

“Worse,” the Doctor grumbled as he reached for her hand. “We’re being kidnapped.”

**

They ran down the corridor: she being pulled by his hand. The only sound other than the howling wind was the sound of their footfalls on the hollow wood underfoot.

“Where’s Turlough?”

The Doctor didn’t respond, rounding a corner at full throttle. So when he stopped, Tegan whipped around him and hesitated over open space. “Thete!” She screamed.

He was lightning quick; his arms pulled her back, one rounding her shoulders, the other around her waist. His backward momentum propelled them both into the wall. As they slid down the surface to the floor, Tegan could see the endless nothing stretching out at her feet.

“The hold,” she barked. “The hold was that way….the TARDIS…”

The Doctor had his head back against the wall and he swallowed hard. His arms tightened their hold on her as he answered: “Gone.”

“Gone?” She asked in shock. “What do you mean: gone? Where’s it gotten to?”

The Doctor sighed and steadied her as he rose. When she gained her footing, she followed the direction of his gaze to the three uniformed beings in the corridor in front of them.

“You have been requested to be in the race.”

Such a dead tone amongst the dark wood sent shivers down her spine.

“That’s interesting,” the Doctor replied. He edged Tegan a little behind him. Tegan frowned at the action- although he was protective of her, this was a bit above and beyond the normal. “Very interesting. Tegan, do you remember an invitation being in the post?”

The officers didn’t move. “A Time Lord is always requested.”

“Used, you mean.” The Doctor stood to his full height. “I decline.”

“And have these mortals-“ the officers stepped forward as if one being. The tallest one…Mariner…looked down at Tegan. “And have these mortals harmed?”

“Cripes,” Tegan began. “I refuse to be – “

“Our transportation through the cosmos will require the navigator skills of a Time Lord. You need only deliver us to the starting line.”

The Doctor lifted his chin. “Never.”

Mariner’s eyes widened and didn’t move from Tegan. “So you’d rather watch your…” he seemed to taste the word before he used it. “Your Yentria…die with the rest of these mortals. She has not the capacity for chronochanges in her body enough to survive an improperly navigated trip.”

The Doctor’s arm tightened around her.

“And regardless, Theta, we will go.”

The Doctor’s back straightened impossibly.

“What is he talking about?” She asked quietly. “It’s not for a party is it?”

“We travel through…this set of dimensions every few millennia, Tegan Jovanka,” the man with the most decorations on his uniform said. “And the vessels we choose can only move within the dimensions. This leaves us at a disadvantage. We sometimes, with occasion, find that our forms and vessels cannot travel as we are accustomed. We find that gravity/ space-time wells interfere with our methods of transport and then…” the man seemed to think for a moment. “They cease to be.”

The Doctor sighed and looked wearily at Tegan. “Yes, well…two objects can’t occupy the same space at the same time.”

“But we,” Mariner interrupted,” can occupy all of space and all of time.”

“And what do you want the Doctor to do?” She asked incredulously. “That’s a scientific face. You want him to break that law? It isn’t like jaywalking, you know, where a cop grabs you and you bugger off-“

“Tegan,” the Doctor warned as he touched her arm.

“We want him to simply help us navigate this course…”

“Course?” The Doctor seemed to be instantly engaged. “What course? Where are you going? Your kind only ventures into the continuum when-“

“Boredom has overtaken us in the wastes,” Mariner said tonelessly.

Tegan frowned. “The Wastes? Is that near Sydney?” She asked sarcastically.

The Doctor gave a half-smile at her response. Mariner’s face slowly dissolved into a smile as if he was trying it on for size.

“We are engaged in a game,” the Captain explained. “A race.”

“And the prize?” The Doctor’s voice was sharp.

“Enlightenment.”

A slow sigh harkened the arrival of the Doc’s eyebrow quirking over his eye. “Enlightenement.”

“The ability to know- and do- all things.”

Tegan opened her mouth, but Mariner turned his attention to her and then to the Doctor. “You are willing to see your love killed as we transverse an unsteady temporal course?”

“Let her go on the TARDIS; let both Turlough and Tegan go on the TARDIS,” the Doctor said quickly. A little too quickly for Tegan, she could feel the tension thrumming through his body.

Mariner shook his head. “The boy has already agreed to help us.”

“He’s but a child.”

“But a Trion nonetheless. Your TARDIS will be returned to you when our course is safely plotted.”

The Doctor lowered his head wearily. “Then I have one request-“

“You wish to have Tegan under you gaze at all times. You fear the Trion and his allies.”

“Fear is a bit strong – “

“You fear for Tegan. Very well, she will be allowed into the officers’ area.”

**

She fought the urge to yank on the Doctor’s hand to hold him back as they walked down the corridor in company with the other officers. There was something in him, a kind of reaction lurking just below the surface that was strange, that was not him…she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. But it was similar to the reaction her father had had when he came to find her in Sydney. But she had always thought that facial expression was one of…

…it wasn’t possible that Thete was fearful of the situation. He hadn’t reacted this way with killer viruses, Cybermen of anything of the like. Why would he have fear with beings dressed up in Edwardian uniforms.

But the facial expression grew stormy as he turned his eyes to her.

“Where are we going?” She asked suddenly.

“The bridge would be my guess,” he offered and reached for her hand. “Keep on your toes, Tegan.”

“But is it wrong to help-“

“If they can win this…game…” he said with a slight toss of his head. “They’ll be set loose on all of Time and Space. And that’s something that I can’t allow to happen.”

She opened her mouth, but he lifted their combined hands to press his finger against her lips. “We’ll discuss it later. Just know that nothing like that has ever happened in history and can’t be allowed to happen.”

In front of them, with a creak that set her nerves on edge, one of the portals opened inward. She and the Doctor were bundled into the room with a stumble and a sigh.

“What on Earth is that?” Tegan gasped. Out of the windows she saw an amazingly vibrant planet, its gentle curve close enough that it seemed to fill up the heavens. It was white, yellow and angry red.

“Europa,” the Doctor explained under his breath.

“It is here that our race begins, Doctor,” Mariner explained patiently.

“In the Solar System?” Tegan asked with an edge to her voice. “A race in our solar system?”

“Our?” Mariner pressed.

“Mine then,” Tegan owned with an almost shout. “You need the Doctor to navigate the Solar System?”

The Doctor frowned. “Planets move, Tegan, asteroids move…the rings on the planets and the moons revolve…they change positions quickly…” He rolled his hand. “Well…relatively….quickly. And they need me to help them navigate it…”

“So you’re going to do it?”

The Doctor frowned as he gazed out the window. Tegan could see the planet surface nearing: she could see the icy craters…at first blurry and then with increasing clarity as they neared. “I – “

Mariner gave a small smile. “We will continue as we are, Doctor, even until we are in the planet’s gravity field.”

Her hands found the old, cold wooden table in front of her. “But that would…destroy…its madness!”

“We will simply transfer…” Mariner offered. “We wouldn’t be harmed.”

“But the men would…” Tegan’s eyes darted around the dark, gloomy interior of the ship, but when she spoke, it was clear that she meant the occupants, the ship and whatever else was onboard. “They would be harmed, wouldn’t they?”

“The rules of matter don’t restrict us,” Striker said quietly. “They do affect this ship and its occupants…”

“He means yes,” the Doctor clarified. “It’s against all of the rules to which you are confined,” he nearly shouted. Tegan could see that his arms were loose, but in his pockets, his hands were in fists. “Time and space cannot hold you and you are forbidden to interfere in time and space. It is the…balance you-“

“We only venture into this continuum when boredom overtakes us.”

“Thete…” Tegan breathed. The curve of the planet was growing flat against the star filled sky.

He glared at the Eternals and pushed Tegan gently to the side. “Hold on…”

“To what?” She asked tightly.

“Something solid,” he responded as he slipped into the chair. Viciously he grabbed a laurel type apparatus…”I can’t let all the humans on ship be harmed…”

To Tegan the look of anger and disgust on the Doctor’s face as unparalleled in as long as she had known him. As he settled the metal crown on his head, he glanced at her. “Now, Tegan…” Then with a voice hard with anger, he addressed the Eternals. “Tactical and directionals.” Nothing else was said as the Doctor pulled a screen out of the side of the computer console.

“Is it too late?” Tegan asked.

His face twisted in pain and concentration. His eyes focused on the middle distance of the clear screen in front of him and the metal cap settled low on his brow. Suddenly, as the ship began to shake, his fingers flew over the computer keyboard in front of him. Tegan grabbed a hold of the side of the console and held on as the ship began to heavily list to one side. As the floor approached a 45 degree angle, she turned away from the Doctor and put all of her strength into holding on. She didn’t know what was happening, but Europa filled the entire view from the ship. With a shout, she closed her eyes. The ship was so close that she could see the icy tips of the crevices and craters of the planet’s surface below.

“Cripes!”

The Doctor’s cool hands grabbed her arms and pulled her from the console. She and he nearly fell into a chair and he secured them with a belt in one movement. The ship continued its tilt, listing so far to the side that Tegan just knew they were going to capsize. The Doctor’s arm and the lap belt kept her stationary and then slowly…

The ship slowly righted and Tegan saw the slight blurriness of a planet curve move away from them.

“Thete?”

He sighed and slowly blinked his eyes open to look at the planet below. The ship moved steadily without hindrance.

“We have cleared the gravity field of the planet.” Tegan recognized the voice of Mariner and glared at the being.

“No thanks to you. You would have let us crash…and you forced the Doctor to do something-“

The Doctor’s hand tightened on her hip and he slowly disentangled the belt about them as she quieted. “Yes, Tegan. They do know.”

“But what have they—“

“He has broken one of the essential laws of the Universe,” Striker said quietly with a small smile. “And the race is afoot.”

Mishaps: Family Part 1

2006-05-01T14:07:55Z

Mishaps is an interlude series to fit into another series: the Nowhere Series. Just to give you a heads up with it so that you can decide whether or not to read it:

1. The Nowhere Series is a set of stories where, over the course of 4 years, the Doc comes back to visit Tegan a number of times. She is a young widow with a child and a toddler. On one of his trips, Tegan is involved in an automobile accident. The Doctor stays to help her recover and in the process, becomes a father figure to her two children. He makes what Tegan thinks is a rash decision and stays with her, taking a job at UNIT and attempting...(the word is attempting) to go native and be a father figure to the children.

The Nowhere Series is up on Whofic. This is just a story to fit into a wide time frame that I left.

In this one: the Doctor meets Tegan's extended family, brothers, sister, nieces and nephews...gets hazed by the brothers...but he finds that his thoughts are extending more towards expanding his own nuclear family.

Rating: Overall R, in this one PG, AU, comedy, and some drama.

“Soup is on.”

The words were called through the small apartment with a voice that sounded, to the Doctor’s own ears, unaccustomed to speaking such domestic words. The Doctor lifted the spoon to his mouth and sipped the bean soup and gave an appreciative nod. “I am improving…” he said quietly. And then, louder, as he continued to stir the liquid: “Amy, Micheal…supper is ready!”

There was no response; indeed there was no sound from the main sitting room of the apartment. The Doctor frowned, turned off the stove top and moved the soup pot to the back, cool burner.

He stuck his head around the doorway to look into the sitting room. There was no sign of his errant charges. The late April afternoon sunlight illuminated the room giving it a warm, cozy ambiance. He sighed and shook his head. “The only door out of the apartment, I could see. They have to be here somewhere.”

**

“That was me, Mikey.”

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Amy’s distinctive, eight year old voice floating out from the bedroom he shared with Tegan. The relief quickly gave way to curiosity, however, and he quietly opened the bedroom door. Amy’s raven curls were visible over the edge of the white bedspread; Michael’s dark blond hair was only visible in wisps; they were seated against the foot of the bed.

“What are you tykes doing?” He asked. Two startled pairs of eyes contemplated him over the bedspread. The Doctor slid his hands into his pockets and lowered his chin in what he hoped was a slightly stern stance. Stern as he was, he was infinitely glad that the evidence of his and Tegan’s nocturnal ‘communions’ were not visible.

“Did you know my Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

Amy levered what appeared to be a heavy padded book off her lap and proudly placed it on the bedspread. The Doctor saw a picture of a couple and sighed. “What did you ask, Amy?”

“Did you know my Daddy,” Amy repeated, honestly, earnestly, her little hand pointing at the picture. To see more properly, the Doctor lay down on the bed and leaned on his crossed arms. From his shirt pocket, he produced a pair of half moon reading glasses and placed them on his nose.

“No, I didn’t know your father,” the Doctor said quietly and properly looked at the photo album. The young couple clearly became a much younger Tegan and a tall, handsome, brawny man with dark blond hair. Tegan lay on a bed, her arms full of a tiny pink blanket and baby. Her dark auburn hair was in mussed curls and looked vibrant against the whites of the bed linens. She looked tired, worn, but excessively happy.

The man sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on the bundle in Tegan’s arms.

Tom had been a very attractive man, the Doctor thought. The Doctor swallowed and nodded. “Handsome bloke, I’d say, Amy.”

“That’s me,” she stated plainly. “That’s me that Momma’s holding. Was I really that small?”

“All babies are tiny comparatively,” the Doctor stated again. He was curious; he wanted to reach out and turn the pages to see more of what the book held. But first thing was first. “Amy, Micheal, supper is on. You’ll need to tidy up…”

“Was I a baby too?” Michael asked. He clamored up on the bed and sat next to the Doctor as he began to stand. The Time Lord smiled; he remembered Michael as a nine month old child who had wet his feet on diaper changing. True, that was young, but not quite the baby to which they were referring.

“Yes,” the Doctor responded. “Just a few years ago.”

“You saw me then?” Michael pressed.

“Not immediately…” The Doctor blew out a breath and hoped he would not get asked exactly how babies were made. He glanced at the books and then rubbed Michael’s head. “Bring them out into the sitting room. Your Momma and Grandmama will be back here in a few minutes.”

“Why was Momma so fat?” Michael asked as Amy gathered up the books to leave the room.

“Because she had you in her stomach,” Amy answered in a haughty way. She stood and nodded to the Doctor. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, of sorts.” The Doctor drew out the word and rose completely from the bed; it wasn’t the time to discuss the difference between the stomach and uterus in female anatomy. The stomach, he decided, was in the right place; that was all that was necessary to the conversation. He felt his cheeks warm.

“Why was I in her stomach?” Michael asked. “Did she eat me?” His wide light brown eyes made his face look even more angelic; the look of shocked innocence he exhibited was pure.

“Eat you?” The Doctor’s eyebrows rose; eat indeed. “Heavens no, Mike.” He laid his hand at the boy’s back to urge him out the door.

“Then why was I in her stomach?” Michael stopped and glanced up at the Doctor. It was clear the boy had no intention of leaving the room if his question was not answered. The Doctor drew a deep breath and nodded slowly.

He stopped and thought quickly. Mike wanted an answer, but the Doctor wanted to only say what was necessary. “Because your Momma was pregnant with you,” the Time Lord responded with a smile. He began to walk again. Amy had preceded him out into the corridor and he hoped to get Mike onto a different topic of conversation as quickly as possible. “When your Momma expects a baby, she gets pregnant like that.”

“Is she going to expect one now?” Michael continued his questioning. “She likes babies.”

The Doctor sighed. “No, I don’t think so…” He shut the bedroom door; he hoped he was closing the door on the conversation as well. “Now, you two, we need to discuss the rules about entering your Momma and my bedroom. That room was strictly off limits unless either your Momma or I say you can go in, or unless there is an emergency. Both your mother and I have discussed this with the both of you.”

“But that was where the baby albums were,” Amy complained/explained. “I couldn’t get them if I didn’t go in.”

“Ask,” the Doctor pressed. “I would have let you in to get them. But that room is a special place for her and me…”

“Like a clubhouse?” Michael asked. “Like a club?”

“Of sorts,” the Doctor said quietly.

“Like one where no girls are allowed?” Michael continued.

“Momma’s a girl,” Amy laughed.

“No, she’s not,” Michael glanced at his sister.

“I have to agree with Michael,” the Doctor said with a slightly chagrined look; he cleared his throat. “She’s a woman, not a girl. But she is female.”

Amy frowned but retreated to the sofa instead of responding to the Doctor. As she put down the books, the Doctor nodded to the kitchen. “Supper is ready; tidy up.”

Amy wasn’t through, however. She turned from the sofa and confronted the Time Lord. “Daddy made you and me, Mikey. That’s why you were in Momma’s stomach. Daddy put you there.”

The Doctor had been walking toward the kitchen and stopped as Amy spoke. This was certainly a question he didn’t want to discuss, at least not with the children. He didn’t turn to face the children and lowered his head. Michael ran over to the Doctor and glanced up at him. The Time Lord forced a small smile to his face. “Did you put me in Momma? How?”

“No I didn’t,” the Doctor answered quickly. He twisted to glance at Amy. “Amy…do you know how your Daddy…well…put…Mike and you in your….” He took a deep breath and swallowed.

“Momma said that when a mommy and daddy love each other very much and they can put a baby in Momma’s stomach.” Amy sniffed and smiled. “Daddy must have asked Momma and she said okay.”

“Have you asked Momma?” Michael asked rapid fire. “You love Momma…are you going to give her a baby in her stomach?”

The Doctor drew a deep breath and smiled at Amy. “Thank you, Amy, that was a very astute response. We can discuss this later…when your Momma is around.”

Michael stopped the Doctor as the Time Lord tried, yet again, to leave the room. He tugged on his trousers. “Does Momma want another baby?”

“I don’t know, Mike,” the Doctor answered honestly. “Come along, supper is ready. It’s your favorite soup.”

The boy smiled widely and ran for the kitchen as Amy went into the WC to wash up. As the boy and Bear disappeared around the corner, the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh Tegan…” he whispered, agitated. “I definitely wasn’t prepared for that.”

**

“Cocoa?”

Tegan glanced up at the Doctor in confusion. He stood next to the couch with two mugs of cocoa in his hands. He wasn’t looking at Tegan, however; he was looking at Samantha Jovanka. When the other woman nodded, he smiled and handed a mug to Tegan’s mother and Tegan. “Sweets for the sweet,” he said graciously.

When he walked away to get his mug, Tegan continued her conversation with her mother. “What time is the christening?”

“It’ll be Saturday at 2 pm, dear. But you are coming up on Friday morning, aren’t you?”

“That was the plan,” Tegan responded. She took a sip of her cocoa and put down the mug and padded into the bathroom to the accompaniment of splashes from the bathtub. The Doctor reappeared and sat down on the other end of the couch.

“We had planned on being there by mid day, Sam,” the Doctor said quietly.

“You took off from work?” Tegan called from the bathroom. “Michael, it’s time to get out.”

“Yes, I did,” the Doctor called back. “It’s been taken care of.” He smiled at Sam. “I’m not used to asking for vacation time.”

“I was under that impression,” the woman laughed. Tegan reentered the room, her clothes splashed, but otherwise not wet.

“I’m glad they can take their own baths these days,” she responded. “Are you sure that you don’t want to stay tonight, Mom?”

“No,” Sam sipped her cocoa and put down the mug. “Justin will be in with Anna and the children tomorrow morning. David is already there with Cindy and the children.”

“Sounds like a full house,” the Doctor commented into the surface of his drink. His eyebrows quirked as he contemplated the edge of the liquid and he glanced at Tegan as she sat down on the sofa. She looked like she had spent a Spring day outside: just a bit of pinkness to the tip of her nose and a few more freckles on her cheeks.

“You don’t know the half of it, my lad,” she said lowly, under her breath.

“Besides, I don’t want to have you leave your and Doctor’s bedroom…” Her mother smiled around the rim of the mug.

“I wouldn’t have you sleep on the sleeper sofa, Mom,” Tegan said haughtily.

“But there’s blessed little privacy out here,” her mother said impishly.

The Doctor cleared his throat. “Yes, that is a draw back to a small flat…”

Tegan laughed and glanced sideways at him. He wondered what she was seeing because her gaze softened, and her irises became a warm cocoa in color. Sam laughed heartily into her cup and shook her head. “Tegan, dear, you do need a larger flat. I don’t think the Doctor and you can share a bed in the living room. And if the family grows…”

Again the Doctor cleared his throat. “Yes…well…a larger flat has been discussed.” The last word, he supposed, drifted off and he shifted on the sofa. “Yes…more cocoa, Sam?” Without a further glance at Tegan, he rose and exited into the kitchen. Tegan’s soft laugh under her breath let him know that she knew of his embarrassment, but by the time he had returned to the room, the conversation had changed.

**

Tegan padded into the bedroom later that evening and folded a shirt as she entered. She laid it down on the packed suitcase.

“Tegan, tomorrow is Thursday,” the Doctor explained quietly. She stood back and looked at the open satchel and rubbed her lips. In the golden light of the bedroom and in her pajamas, she looked young. She also appeared to be deep in thought. From the Doctor’s point of view, there were many things that could change in a day and to pack more than that ahead of time was a waste of energy. He shook his head and turned his attention back to the picture album he held in his lap.

“I’m going to have to pack the munchkins tomorrow,” she said plaintively. He decided he liked the pajamas. She looked relaxed…she looked her…in them…unadulterated Tegan without pretense. And he liked that they were the cotton pants and shirt ensemble; the lingerie…the teddy…she wore to bed at times made him feel strange. It wasn’t a bad feeling; it was more that the lingerie made him think about the curves of her body. And then her body would near him, allow him to touch her and would willingly and wholeheartedly accept his arousal evident in his own body and, he supposed, his actions. The nights she wore the lingerie his blood pressure would rise.

He wasn’t used to that feeling. He liked it, but wasn’t fully used to releasing the arousal or want through the channels she offered. But he was more than willing to explore it.

She glanced over at him. Her gaze must have followed his.

“Rabbits, is that Amy’s baby album? Cripes, where did you find that?”

“I didn’t,” he commented as he adjusted his half-moon glasses on his nose. “I didn’t if we are going for proper coinage of term, Tegan. Amy and Mike did. I appropriated with them after they went to bed tonight.”

“They were in the bedroom?” Her voice had taken on that slight tone he was now able to interpret. It was the ‘I’m going to have a firm talk with them’ tone. “They were specifically told not to be in here without us letting them in and, I’m guessing that wasn’t the situation.” Her mouth set in a line.

“I handled it,” he reassured. “I already had a talk with them when I found them in here at the time.” He glanced up at her and smiled.

She raised an eyebrow and came to join him on the bed. He wondered when he had actually started to wear pajama pants to bed; he couldn’t quite recall, but he felt comfortable in them.

“Oh Lord, I look a sight in that picture.” He hadn’t turned from the first page. There was a picture of Tegan in bed, holding Amy in her arms. The picture cut off Tom and only showed his arm. It was a close-up of a tired, happy looking woman holding her first born.

“When was that taken?” He asked his voice slightly hoarse for some reason.

“About an hour after she was born,” Tegan responded as she settled back against the headboard. “I look like I had been hit by a lorry.”

“You look…” he swallowed and squinted at the album. He knew his mouth worked silently for a moment. “Worn.”

“You try and push an 8 pound little human out of your body and tell me how you’d feel…” she stated. Her legs crossed and she sat forward to look at the picture again.

“You look very happy, Tegan,” he answered truthfully.

“I was ecstatic,” she agreed.

He nodded and flipped the page. On the next thickly packed page, Tegan was seen with a large group of women and her mother. She looked rather pregnant.

“That,” Tegan said quietly. “Was about three weeks before she was born…”

“At the…baby…”

“Shower. That’s what they call it,” she explained.

“You looked radiant,” he offered.

“I was ready for her to be born,” she laughed. “More than ready. I looked like I had swallowed a balloon.”

The Doctor smiled and tilted the book slightly to look at the picture. It showed a much younger Tegan surrounded in pink and green baby clothes and wrapping paper. Her hand rested protectively on her belly and her smile was wide. “Yes, but Tegan that’s what happens when a woman is pregnant. It’s inevitable.”

He felt her hot body next to his and felt relaxed by the heat. With a hum, he flipped the page and grinned. Tegan was reclined in the bed and her arms full of Amy bundled in a blanket. It was the scene from before, only a large image. This time, Tom was visible. His hand was protectively situation on Amy and his other arm was behind Tegan’s head on the pillow. “Tom looks...looked…slightly unhappy….and very protective….a protective male with the nesting female…” He shifted at her sigh; it sounded neither agitated nor happy.

Tegan smiled and ran her finger around the edge of the picture. “Tom knew I wanted to just be with Amy…and everyone wanted pictures or to gush.” She smiled and tilted her head a little to the side. “He wanted what I wanted. I wanted to bond; I wanted to feed her; I wanted to hold her. I wanted her…so…”

“How long after you’d…” he swallowed. “How long after we had traveled was her birth?” The Doctor drew in a breath and turned the page. The next several pictures were Tegan and Tom bringing Amy home. The world looked cold; Tegan was in a sweater and Tom in a jacket. But he had never seen her so happy, nor had he seen her smile so widely.

“About three years…a little less than three years,” Tegan responded. “I wanted her so badly I couldn’t believe it. I wanted her from the time she was conceived, but even more after she was born.”

The next several pages were Amy’s various birthday parties, get-togethers…there was one of Amy learning to walk, another of her swimming.

And then on the next page was a scene he found heartwarmingly familiar. Although he hadn’t known that she was taking his picture at the time, Tegan had captured him with Amy in the sands of the beach from four years previous. His hat was settled on the back of his head, tilted away from his face, his shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows; his pants rolled to his knees. His finger was tracing down Amy’s face; tears were still fresh on the girl’s cheeks; the sun captured the prisms in their surfaces well.

“I…after you….” Tegan settled again into the pillow next to him and sighed. “Rabbits, after you were back here…with regularity…and Amy wanted the picture in there….and…” She glanced at him. “Do you want me to remove it?”

“No.” He voiced the word a bit more forcefully than he meant and softened it with a smile in her direction. “No, Tegan…leave it.”

She grinned and drug out Mike’s baby book. On the first page, Tom held Amy and a pregnant Tegan stood next to him. It was summer by the look of the foliage.

”It was August,” she offered. “I was six months pregnant and we had just found out that Mike was a boy.” She laughed under her breath and leaned forward to look at the picture closer. “Tom loved his little girl, but he was happy to hear that Mike was a boy. He wanted a son.”

The Doctor glanced at Tegan. Her face was down turned; her freckles were golden in lamplight. Her eyes were a deep chocolate and refracted a great deal of light.

“He died two weeks later.”

The words were clipped and said quickly. She turned her head and smiled sadly at him. He swallowed hard; admittedly, he found it hard to see her upset, more so now than in the past. Quickly and with a slight sniff, she turned the page. The next page was Tegan, alone, in a hospital bed holding a blue blanket.

“Who was with you?” He asked with his gaze intent on her face. His sight moved to follow her as she leaned back. The picture showed her alone.

“Mom,” she said quietly.

“You look happy.”

“I love my children. I wanted Mike as much as I wanted Amy.”

He nodded and his finger traced the edge of the picture. “I know that tilt of your chin. You had it when you were facing Cybermen, Tegan.”

She smiled slowly. “Yeah, I wanted him…for me…for Tom….for…”

The Doctor sighed happily. “And he is, Tegan, he is. He’s healthy and happy.”

Tegan nodded with a sniff, but there were no tears, he noted. The next page was filled with pictures of Mike and the Doctor. There was the Doctor with Mike as he tried to walk: the sun glinted off both their heads and the Doctor had an intense smile on his lips. The next was the Doctor on a bike with Mike waving happily behind him. Another was Mike on the Doctor’s shoulders looking down at him; the Doctor smiled up at the tot on his shoulders.

“Do you mind?”

“Hmm? Oh.” The Doctor felt a weird feeling in his stomach, a tightening in his throat. He took off his glasses and shook his head firmly. “No. No, I don’t. Please…keep them…”

Tegan leaned over the book and closed it quietly. The kiss to his lips was soft, gentle and tasted of cream and sweet, he concluded. Her warm hand against his neck was calming; lightly branding him. “There’s a lot more where that came from, my lad,” she responded.

He put the books on the bedside table. “Why…” he began as he set his glasses onto of the books. “Do I have a feeling that you’ll be having a camera there this weekend?”

“To prove that you actually spent time with a family,” she laughed. “I’ll need the pictorial evidence if I ever see Nyssa again…or Sarah Jane.”

He rolled his eyes slightly, but turned off the light. Tegan’s light giggles warmed the darkness of the room.

Luminarium (Part Next)

2006-04-22T18:13:40Z

Dripping water. She could hear dripping water; her hand came away wet when she reached out to steady herself on the wall next to the staircase. These things she expected, after all they were either below sea level or just above it. But the low hum of machinery was not something she expected. She patted the air next to her to get Amisi to press back into the wall. The girl didn’t have a clue and Peri had to reach out to show her how to edge back into the stone support.

“Metal steps.”

Amisi’s hand was clammy in hers and Peri could feel the fear in her touch. “Is that what it is called?”

Peri’s next footstep caused a metallic echo to sound. She rolled her eyes. “Yup, metal…sounds like steel.” She smiled back at the girl. “We aren’t in Kansas any more…This is definitely not Ancient Egypt, Greece, Macedonia or Roman…” The impish part of her that often enjoyed the Doctor’s dry humor just barely avoided jumping up and down to get the full metallic ring.

“And there’s machinery down here. Something is rotten in Denmark.”

“Denmark?”

“Nothing. Come on,” Peri urged and crept further down the circular stairs. Even careful foot placement caused a ringing as she crept down the stairs. “I want to know what’s down here.”

“Osiris? Set?”

“More like a mad scientist by the sound of it.” Peri crept the rest of the way down the stairs. The door at the bottom appeared old, but upon closer inspection was only made of older materials. It was a solid slab of stone, possibly inches, probably a foot thick. She couldn’t tell; it was shut tightly enough. It also appeared massively heavy. Still, Peri knew appearances could be deceiving. When she placed her meager weight against the portal, it swung suddenly inward…

…and she fell into darkness…

…to land on her knees on a hard packed dirt floor.

“Damn it,” she hissed as she quickly bounded to her feet. “That’ll leave a bruise.”

She pivoted, startled, as Amisi grabbed her shoulders. She could almost smell the jasmine on the girl’s hair. Peri reached for the girl, instinctively searching for her hand. The fear was palpable in the shaking of it when Peri grabbed it.

“Peri?”

She glanced over her shoulder to nod to the girl. The wide blue eyes that met hers were shocked and there was no further words issued from the perfect rosebud mouth. Peri followed Amisi’s gaze into the room and found that she stared as well.

“Greetings.”

It spoke, Peri thought, surprised that she was surprised. There was no mouth though, and she wondered from where the voice was coming. It was a large, somewhat globulous, illuminated…mass; a floating sphere with a prism effect unlike anything she had ever seen. It was beautiful.

“Osiris!” Amisi bit out and Peri heard her shoulders hit the wall as the girl leaned back into it.

“Far from it,” replied the voice.

The voice appeared to be everywhere and nowhere…

“You’re in my head,” Peri complained quickly, suddenly. She raised her hands up to ward off the being. “Telepathy!” Amisi’s hand went slack on her shoulder as the girl slid down the wall, apparently in a startled faint. The light pulsed brighter and then dimmed as it approached. Peri took a step back instinctively.

“And you,” the voice whispered, “are not from this time, if you know telepathy.”

“What are you?” Peri countered. “Where are you from? You aren’t from Earth…I’d know that much.” She felt her back straighten and her hands form fists almost subconsciously. Preparing for battle, she felt the liquid steel of power enter her body; she felt the cold feeling of disembodiment as her body reacted instinctively. It was a feeling she had felt, had known for over a year now. It was comforting.
“I am not from Earth. Neither are my family,” the voice explained, seeming deigning to give the information. “We are lost…”

Peri’s hand came up slowly to block out the light; it was painful. “Lost?”

“You travel? You travel outside of this sphere and its inhabitants…”

She shook her head.

“I see that you do.” The light pulsed and grew in size as well as intensity.

“Get out of my head,” Peri growled as she quickly crouched to check on Amisi. The girl’s breathing was even and deep and she hadn’t appeared to have hit her head. Her eyes were only averted from the alien for a moment; the next thing she knew she was almost surrounded in the light.

“Help us!” The voice demanded. “We grow tired of endless calls for help; there is no structure here; we must leave! It spreads; we must escape…”

She crawled back on her hands and legs so quickly that she lost her balance and was in a corner in seconds. There was nowhere to go; no weapons to be had. Amisi lay prone on the ground…she couldn’t leave her.

“Leave us…” she breathed as she rocked forward to go to her new friend, only to find the painful pinprick of sensation as her skin came in contact with the alien. The sensation caused her to draw back quickly. A warning, she thought. “Leave us alone!”

The light drew nearer until it filled her entire vision field; only the solidity of the wall behind her kept her from sliding into oblivion as the light encompassed her, until she felt like she ceased to exist. Even the dripping water faded into silence as she slipped into unconsciousness.

**

Underwater, she was underwater and being held down…her legs couldn’t move, her arms frantically reached, swam through the water…it was like dark film with thousands of tiny diamonds…the sun filtering…the sun was getting further way. Drug down into darkness, away from the light. Would Turlough reach for her? Would he pull her to the surface again?

Leaden, the feeling of dejection, of losing something, of her life bleeding from her lungs…she shut her eyes and let the warmth of unconsciousness eek through her…

She awoke with start on a warm table. Metal should be cold, she thought; the warmth was strange. “Where am I?”

A small light approached. It bobbed like a hummingbird looking for its meal. “Hell, I feel like I drank way too much,” she muttered. Her hand came up to touch at her brow. That, too, surprised her; she had assumed she’d be tied or restrained.

The light came to the side of the bed and pulsed. It was smaller than the others had been, but it was still half her size. Remembering the painful sensation from when she last touched it, Peri kept her hands at her sides. Squinting, she tried to see if there was any pattern in the flashing, the pulsing or if there was something like a face in the light.

“The Gods,” Amisi whispered and Peri turned her head on the slab to look at her new friend. She lay on a similar table about five or six feet away, she guessed.

“Keep calm,” Peri urged. She blinked up at the moving ball of light as it moved to Amisi’s bed. “And don’t taunt her!” She warned the light. “Frightening her will do nothing for you!”

The light stopped and Peri felt warm. With a grimace, she looked over her shoulder to see another large light approaching. She moved her leg and heard the metallic echo; it was loud and seemed to go on forever. It was a large place…with a lot of metal…

“Who are you?” She asked and tried to keep her voice even and calm. “Where are we?”

“Underneath Alexandria…”

Peri nodded. The voice had sounded again in her mind; she wanted the larger blob of light to know she had heard him…it. With a deep breath, she sat up. “Was there a particular reason that you-“

“It was your weak body that made you go unconscious, human.”

Peri grimaced. “Who are you?” She asked again as she swung her legs over the side of the table.

She was assaulted with such a powerful image of the Doctor, like a physical memory. Her fingers found and massaged her brow under the weight of the image. Gasping, she ground out: “Yes, that’s him.” She didn’t know what the alien was asking her, but it seemed to answer the question. The image faded.

It was replaced with an image of Tegan. She was smiling in the angle of the vision, her hair short as it had been when Peri had first met her. The image switched to the first situation when she had seen the Doctor and Tegan…standing on the balcony in Lazorate…the sun near setting…the Doctor’s hand barely on Tegan’s back…her hand had reached for his…the lessening of the Doctor’s tension as he had let his hand be taken…

The pain was nearly unbearable. “That’s my friends,” she explained quickly, rocking forward to hold her head. “Please…it hurts.”

There was a flash of an image of Gallifrey and then the pressure left her head. “Thanks for nothing,” she gasped as she opened her eyes. Her sight returned slowly, fading from brilliancy to normal dimness. “Why…”

“He is Gallifreyan. I recognize the planet.”

“No, he’s human-“Peri grimaced and cradled her head immediately in pain. She bent over so far that her head was between her knees.

“Do not lie, human, I know your mind.”

She took a deep breath and tried to keep the stabbing pain at bay. “I’m not doing anything to you. There’s no need to hurt me. And the name is Peri, thanks, not human.”

“Why does he have affection for a human?”

“He has affection for a lot of us. It’s called friendship,” she said, her voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “Tegan and he are closer…”

“They mate.”

“Yes, not too put too fine a point on it. They’re lovers.”

“And he has a TARDIS. All Time Lords do when off world. You showed me it yourself-“

The light pulsed a different color, but she could say what color it was. “He could remove us from this structure-less existence; could take us back to the stars.”

“He could help you; he helps people, aliens…beings like you…”

There was silence; no tickling in her head that seemed to come before the booming voice. The light drew nearer to her as if it were looking into her soul. “I am Rhian; he will not help me.”

Peri swallowed and shook her head slowly. “You don’t know that…I don’t know that. I don’t know what Rhian is. But the Doc does help people.”

The light seemed to bob as if it were laughing. “You have your doubts, don’t you, human? You wonder if he can even help himself. A good question. No, he will not help a Rhian…” After a second, the space of a breath, the second smaller light joined the larger one. They pulsed in unison and then backed away from her.

She felt like she could move and immediately jumped down to the floor. The distance gave her a false sense of freedom. With a sigh, she moved around the bed to approach Amisi. The girl was breathing shallowly on the bed, her gaze riveted to the pulsing lights. “It’s okay,” Peri reassured. She clasped the girl’s hand as the lights in the place came on a little. As she crouched next to the low metal bench upon which Amisi lay, she could see that the ceiling was very close to her height, but that the room stretched out immensely in both directions. The lights backed out of the room, the wall sliding back and then closing in front of them.

“It’s okay,” Peri reiterated, but with a hard swallow, she wondered. They were prisoners.

Destined: Enlightenment

2005-12-10T17:37:16Z

Destined: Enlightenment
Rating: PG-13 possibly R
Summary: In every life, every relationship there comes a time to make a choice, a decision on direction. Most are made in a simple step, a thought, a decision and most are made in passing: you don't know it has occurred until the moment is long past. It's a moment of Enlightenment, a moment of 'coming of age'. But the Doctor was never one to let a moment slip by, and always did do things with a certain flair.

Notes: Well, if you haven't read the other stories in the series, you'll be a bit lost. Here's the link to the page. Mind you, it's a bit out there, a bit probably not really people's cuppa, but it's my hobby these days. Lots of sex and relationship and mucking about.

Destined

The bed shifted.

Tegan blinked her eyes open and stared at the ceiling. The image displayed was that of the Eye of Orion. Actually it was the view of the triple moons of the planet at moonrise from the surface of the planet; so real that she wanted to reach out and touch it. She had loved that planet; the peace there was palatable, touchable.

With a sigh, she turned her head on the pillow to see the Doctor. He was relaxed, propped on pillows, his naked chest golden in the low light. His legs were under the sheet, crossed at the ankle as he was apt to do when he was reading or relaxing.

He was reading a book, a rather large book. And his gaze from behind his half moon glasses seemed to fly over the page.

Sensing her movement, he blinked over at her. “Did I wake you, Tegan?”

“Yes, but not unpleasantly,” she explained. She glanced down at the book. “What is it?”

“Hmm?”

“The book, Thete,” she said patiently. “The least you can do if you’re reading in our bed is to tell me what it is you’re reading.”

He smiled at her and then took a long slow breath. “A book on Gallifreyan theses pertaining to the existence of ‘All-encompassing evil’ and their portrayal in our collective history.”

Tegan grimaced. “Forget I asked.” She looked at the thickness of the volume. “Rather a lot of reading.”

“Rather a lot of interesting reading,” he corrected with a wide smile. “But I do apologize for waking you. I was simply…”

“Lazy about getting up?”

He opened his mouth and frowned a bit before he simply gave a short nod. “Yes, I suppose that’s accurate.”

She watched him as he returned to studying the book he held. His eyes were intense; they seemed to devour the words on the page. The only sound in the room was the harsh sound of paper on paper and paper on skin. With a sigh, she supported herself on her hands and moved up the bed until she could move the book from his grasp.

He raised an eyebrow, but remained prone as his arms feel to the mattress. “Tegan?” he rumbled.

“I’m awake now,” she said mischievously.

“That I can see…”

She slowly rubbed his chest with her breasts as she shimmied up his body. She took off his glasses and gave his lips a teasing, warm kiss.

When she pulled away, her own eyes shut to savour the touch, and blinked her eyes open, she saw him smiling in the lazy manner she loved. As she leaned in to nibble at his neck, his hands gently cupped and enfolded her shoulders. “Tegan…” he breathed.

Playfully, she pouted. “No?”

With a puffed chuckle, he relaxed his touch. “You make it sound like I’ve taken candy from you.”

“Maybe you have,” she sighed. “You don’t want-“

“Oh,” he breathed. “Believe me, I do,” he smiled as he brushed his thumb down her cheek. “But unfortunately we have….there are no….well at least not in this room…”

“We’re out of condoms?” She asked playfully.

“Quite,” he admitted.

“Tsk.”

“Well, Tegan…you were asleep…”

“And you forgot.”

“There’s no need to accuse. Let’s just say my mind was on other matters. Matters, my dear…” he tapped her nose. “That wholly involved your safety and not the ravishing of your body.”

Tegan lifted an eyebrow. “In those terms- ravishing…”

“Enjoying?” He offered with a smile.

She took his hand and pressed a kiss to its end, on his fingers. “Just…ravish me.”

“Tegan…” he closed his eyes as she suckled his middle finger. “I would prefer not to torture myself…and…not…”

“Follow through?” She asked innocently. “It’s okay…Thete…” she urged. “I won’t torture you…just let go…”

He looked confused for a moment. “But…”

She continued to suckle his finger until the light of understanding dawned on his face. “Are you sure?” he rumbled tenderly.

“Cripes, yes!”

He answered her by rolling her onto her back and kissing her deeply.

**

The Doctor had disappeared into the console room minutes before and she slipped into the room scant seconds before his admonished time schedule of: “No more than 5 minutes.”

He hummed and glanced at her as the door shut.

“Where is he?” She asked in a stage whisper.

“Running an errand for me,” the Doctor said simply.

“I don’t like that tone,” she said plainly. “What’s wrong?”

The Doctor rubbed his brow, but forced a smile to his lips. “We’re stopped.”

“Where?” Tegan asked simply, lounging against the console. After a second of silence, she reached out to touch his arm. “Cripes! You don’t know, and you probably don’t know how we turned up here either. That’s it, isn’t it?”

His sigh indicated she was correct.

“Time Lords?”

“We’ve-“

“Well, THE Time Lord, then,” Tegan bit out. “The one you think is partially behind this all.”

He opened his mouth, closed it and deliberately walked around the console to put his hands on her shoulders. When the uneasy look didn’t leave her face, he pressed a quick kiss to her brow. “Yes, Tegan.”

She gave a heavy sigh as his eyes widened a little. “Do you have any clue where we are?”

“We only know that the air is breathable.”

Tegan stiffened as Turlough’s quiet voice sounded behind her. The Doctor met her eyes for a split second and then gave a wide smile to his face. “Ah, Turlough…I was just filling Tegan in on the current situation.”

“Yes,” Turlough stated as he drew next to Tegan. “Very strange. For some reason, the lack of direction seems not to upset the Doctor.”

Tegan grimaced. She knew the smile was painful if not forced, but she hoped Turlough wouldn’t know the difference. After all, the boy was so fake, she was assured that even his skin wasn’t real. “You’ll get to know the Doc,” she reassured. “Confusion is par for the course.”

“Hmph.”

Despite feeling uneasy about the situation, she smiled at his reaction. But after he said his peace, he met her gaze and smiled.

Turlough sighed. “That’s all well and good, but do we have any idea at all where we are or what we have done?”

The Doctor straightened his back and his hands fell silently to his sides. “That’s half the fun, Turlough…getting in and mucking about, making a mess of things…”

Turlough sighed. “But less than advisable for safety.”

Tegan opened her mouth, but the Doctor’s hands enfolded her elbows. “Yes, well…I never was entirely known for safety, Turlough. Still, I can say that I don’t lose companions often.” The tone was light, but Tegan knew he was taking the situation seriously.

The Doctor took a breath and his hand minutely squeezed his arm. “Shall we?”

“Wouldn’t it be safer to leave Tegan in here?” Turlough asked innocently as he pulled on his suit jacket.

“Bloody chauvinist…” Tegan muttered.

The Doctor took a deep breath. So help me, Tegan thought as the moment of silence continued. If he says yes… “No, Turlough. In this instance, I would prefer to keep Tegan with me.”

As the Doctor bent over the console again, Turlough lifted an eyebrow. “Quite frankly, I think you are putting her into more danger…”

Tegan inhaled as the Doctor stood tall. She imagined a long pole fed down the back of his collar, keeping him ridged. It wasn’t his ridged form, nor the almost painful way he held his muscles tight that worried her. Rather it was the steely gray that invaded the Doctor’s normally ice blue eyes that made her wince.

Admittedly, her ire was up about the situation, but didn’t get to say a word as Turlough sealed his fate.

“You do have a habit of putting your companions into life-threatening situations, don’t you?”

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed as Tegan reached forward to touch his arm. Whether from her touch or because he naturally relaxed or realized what Turlough was doing, he sighed and released his tension.

“Shall we explore?” He asked jauntily and reached for his Panama hat. He extended his arm behind Tegan in an obvious effort to herd her towards the door.

Tegan slipped out in front of him, hearing his sigh as he stepped out behind her.

“That boy-“

“Obviously has researched things and wants to make me…emotional…”

Tegan grimaced as the Doctor’s hand securely grabbed hers. “It didn’t work.”

“You’re right…” he commented. “And it won’t.”

Turlough stepped out and closed the door as Tegan sniffed the air.

To her, it was instantly obvious where they were: old wooden floor boards, ropes with pitch, the creak and the yaw of the floor all shouted boat or ship to her. From memories of her childhood sailing with her grandfather, she recognized the feel of the ship almost as readily as she would have her own face in the mirror.

“It’s rather rough seas,” she commented.

“You sound positively depressed,” the Doctor commented.

“Well, I was hoping for the beach,” she groused. When he sighed, she tugged on his arm. “Just mucking about…but this is a ship.”

“Undoubtedly,” he responded.

Turlough picked up a piece of rope; his lips curled in disgust as the tar got on his hands. “Arcane method of travel.”

“You think so?” The Doctor asked.

Tegan looked back at Turlough with a surprised look. Although they knew him to be an alien and not a human, he often was not blatant about it all. But here he was making a statement about it…

“Well,” the boy began, backpedaling. “I understand that most space faring races apply the general principles from nautical travel-“

“Exactly,” the Doctor rumbled. “More classical than arcane.” He laid his hand flat against Tegan’s back.

She climbed the creaky stairs ahead of the Doctor, he hand sticky from the tar. When she reached the top, he gently pressed her to the side and eased past her to the open the door at the top.

“Does he always do this?” Turlough asked.

“Do what? Prove you wrong?” Tegan retorted, not entirely innocently.

“Take you out of the TARDIS and headlong into danger.” Turlough’s voice was clipped. “It’s as though he has not care if you live or die…”

Tegan gaped at the boy, but in the darkness she worried that the full brunt of it was lost.

“He has more caring for life in the little finger than you could ever hope to have,” she hissed. She couldn’t say any more as the Doctor’s artistic hand reached back to help her from the hold. Almost gallantly and very protective, his arm wound about her waist. “Turlough…”

“What is it, Doctor?”

“Come up slowly with your hands raised.”

Tegan stared at the beings that stood in the hallway, the corridor. They stood taller than the Doctor, but were of equal build. Their faces were clean shaven and youthful looking. They wore dark uniforms with gold insignia on the shoulders and sleeve. There were four of them each holding very lethal looking firearms.

“Cripes, Thete…” Tegan breathed.

“Edwardian,” he said decisively and rocked forward to hold out his hand in greeting and take his hat off his head. “Definitely while England still ruled the seas.”

A gun came up to train on his chest and the Doctor lowered his hand. Subconsciously, he stepped in front of Tegan. “Ah, well, stowaways were never kindly accepted.”