A Lemming by Any Other Name
Rose had never seen the Doctor quiet, still. Truth be told, the fact unsettled her. She crouched down next to him and tried to believe he was merely asleep as she brushed his dark hair out of his face. She knew better. Rose had never seen the Doctor sleep in all the time she had traveled with him, and he would hardly nap in the face danger. Those creatures had gotten what they wanted – complete control of him – the only way they knew how. Rose prayed their drugs would not prove fatal in the end.
Gently, almost absently, she traced his jaw with her fingers. It was then that his deep-chocolate eyes fluttered open. He peered at her muzzily from under heavy lids. Rose gasped in surprise and delight. The Doctor smiled slowly. "Rose," he whispered, his voice gravely with disuse, "I told you always to keep the lemmings in the refrigerator."
Rose stared at him for a moment in puzzled silence. Then she let out a loud, if teary-eyed, laugh. "Next time. Yes, of course, Doctor. I will," she giggled through her tears as she gathered him into her arms.
"What is it, Rose?" the Doctor asked coming around properly now, aware of her tears but not of his own recent brush with death. "What did I say?"
"Just what I wanted to hear," she replied, hugging him tightly, silently thanking every star in the galaxy that her dearest friend was still alive.
