Prologue: Once upon a storm

I started pacing up and down the TARDIS. I just couldn't stand still. I couldn't stop thinking about him. He'd forced me to come back here. I'd protested. He'd insisted. Several times, until he threatened me that if I didn't go back, the next stop would be the Powell Estate. For the very last time. And he'd never come back for me. So I went. I left him. He made me swear that I wouldn't go out for him. So I just paced around instead.

We'd landed, well crash landed, on this alien planet a few million years into my future. The colony on this planet, we didn't exactly get off onto the right foot. For a start we landed on their leader. Secondly our visit seemed to spark off some kind of civil war, over who should be the next leader. The Doctor's comment that they should elect the next leader didn't go down too well either. We eventually joined forces with a 'Rebel Alliance' who were fighting against another four or so parties, each fighting for someone they thought should be the next leader. It took them about four hours to realise that I wasn't a time lady... another few hours to realise that I had no part in this war... and several more to figure that I was the one who started it, and that I should be executed. This was the first thing that the other four parties agreed on, so they all grouped together against our party, all intent on killing me.

When he realised this, he didn't care about everyone else, he just wanted to get me away from the war. Behind my back they organised a way to get me away from it. Stupidly I blundered in, and let them take me away, not without a fight. And, I blushed, a kiss. A kiss from the Doctor.

So now I was left here all alone. All alone to bite my nails. All alone to worry about him. All alone to pace up and down his time ship. Hoping, praying that he was going to be all right. Crossing my fingers willing myself to believe that he would walk through those doors, with a huge grin on his face - his "I sorted it all out," look or his "look at me - aren't I great," look. I watched the second hand tick on my watch, ticking so slowly I thought that time itself had stopped.

o...O...o

After several tense nerve racking hours, the TARDIS doors swung open. And the Doctor entered. I felt my heart skip a beat, then stop all together as he pushed the door shut. There was no other word for it, he looked awful. His hair was plastered wet to his head, stubble had started to build up, his skin looked pale and drawn and there were large black bags under his eyes. His brown trench coat had several large gashes in it, his tie was slung loosely around his neck, his shirt was ripped in several places, and his trousers hadn't fared much better. Mud had been splattered all over him, up his trousers over his face across his shirt, which mingled with his blood. There were several cuts on his face, that were bleeding slightly and it looked as though he would have many painful bruises tomorrow. I felt my heart bleed for him.

For a second his shape was illuminated by the bolt of lightening outside, before he rushed towards me. Bringing me into his warm embrace. Even though he looked awful, he seemed fine. Which puzzled me for a while, before realising that in this light he just looked wet, and muddy. And the blood? Well, his was blue. Not red, or green for that matter.

I held on to him for what felt like eternity before we broke apart, then looking into each others' eyes we kissed, closing my eyes I let myself forget every thing. Lost in his kiss. He picked me up, then carried me into his bed room.

o...O...o

I stirred, moving around on his bed, and begun to wonder why I'd woken up. Then I realised. He was boiling hot. Burning up inside. I ran off to get a thermometer, getting back and placing it in his mouth, I discovered he had a temperature of 42˚C. Dangerously hot. His eyes popped open, all wide eyed and dizzy looking. He had a fever. I knew one thing. I had to cool him down. I had too. Running into the bath room I grabbed a towel and soaked it in the luke warm water from the tap (I'd remembered never to use too cold water as it actually stops the body losing heat- dunno why... just does), rushing back to him, I started to dab his body all over squeezing the water all over him in a desperate attempt to cool him down. When the towel started to get too hot I took it back into the bath room and cooled it down again. After what felt like the ninetieth trip to the bath room I took his temperature again, 40.5˚C. He'd cooled down. Breathing a sigh of relief, I grabbed the towel again and continued to sponge him down. After what seemed like ages his temperature had dropped back down to 39.2˚C and was continuing to fall. Leaving him on the bed I went off to get him a glass of water, before he got dehydrated.

Walking back into his room I checked his forehead, he still felt a little hot and passed him the glass. Helping him up so he could drink it with out choking.

"You'd better get some sleep," I told him, he nodded, passed me the glass then snuggled down and drifted off to sleep. Pulling up a chair, I sat down. This was going to be a long night. Then it hit me. Before his fever.

I'd slept with him.