Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I don't even have any celery in my refrigerator. Send money to the BBC.

Author's Note: This is AU continuing from 'Valentine's Day After'. The Doctor takes Tegan to her grandfather Andrew Verney in the village of Little Hodcombe when she wishes to leave after the events of 'Resurrection of the Daleks'. She had taken a head wound in that episode and the Doctor stays a while to make sure that she's suffered no serious injury. There is a decision to be made…

Chapter 1: Uphill

Tegan had had a nap in the afternoon, but she was still tired. Despite that and even though it was late, she didn't want to go to bed. She lingered by the fire, toasting her bare feet, while the Doctor sat in her grandfather's armchair. He had played chess with Andrew Verney then absorbed himself with a Dickens novel.

The Doctor reached the end of the book. He closed it and looked down at Tegan sitting on the floor. "Don't you think you should go to bed, Tegan?"

"It won't be the same without you waking me up every two hours, Doctor."

"Very amusing," said the Doctor, meaning the opposite. "Humans need regular sleep periods. Is there something on your mind?"

Tegan stared into the fire. Was it fair to have a sense of deja vu about something you knew you'd said before? "I'm not coming with you." She'd been putting off saying it. It was good to know that she and the Doctor had reached a place where they could be friends quietly sitting together. Companions, indeed.

"Ah." The Doctor found himself without anything suitable to say. Tegan's decision was not exactly a surprise.

"I've got to find a way to live with the memories. Maybe dashing off to the next thing works for you, but I felt like I was going under." She wondered how much sense that made, but she wasn't good with words and she didn't want to hurt him. Tegan drew her feet back and stood up. The firelight cast inconstant shadows on the Doctor's face, and his fringe added more obscurity to his expression. "I will miss you and Turlough—well, maybe not Turlough so much." She took one step nearer to him, but no more. Nyssa had kissed him on the cheek in her farewell, but those two had had a close and harmonious relationship: at least avuncular if not outright paternal on the Doctor's side. "If you're gone in the morning, I'll understand, Doctor. I know you hate saying good-bye."

The Doctor also hated being anticipated. "I'll have to find Turlough first. He left at noon and I don't think he's back yet." Turlough had made a friend on their last visit to Little Hodcombe. It would be vulgar to speculate, but he was fairly sure it was the local boy David that Turlough was interested in, not his pretty sister. Turlough certainly deserved a break as much as Tegan did.

"Goodnight, Doctor." Tegan headed up to her room. The Doctor watched her go and it would have taken a keen observer to make out any particular expression on his face.

"Tegan, girl, what on Earth are you looking for?"

If Tegan Jovanka had to be caught with her head under a bed and her bum sticking up in the air, she was glad it was by her grandfather.

Of course, she bumped her head against a slat. "Ow! It's not what I'm looking, it's what I've found," she grumbled, "Don't you ever dust under here? Hmph. You do not." She crawled backwards, dragging out a pair of hiking boots that were gray with dust. "It's like a dust bunny warren under there."

Andrew Verney went right past the evidence of his limited housekeeping. "Was it worth bumping your head again? Are you all right?"

"It was just a little bump. I've got a hard head," she looked up at him and added, "It runs in the family."

"Just the same, you'd better have that Doctor look at it."

"The Doctor," Tegan corrected.

"Any doctor would do. What do you think you're doing with those?"

"These are hiking boots. I'm going for a walk before I go stir crazy. Look out the window: it's a beautiful morning! Hardly any snow left."

"Two days ago you were an invalid, now you want to go jaunting around the countryside?" Verney asked incredulously.

"Looks like."

"You're too old to be locked in and you'd only go out the window anyway. There never was any getting you to mind," her grandfather complained, his accent broadening. "But if you don't tell your Doctor what you're up to, I will. He's up the hill again."

"Thought I'd ask him along. He likes long walks." Tegan's grandfather hmphed and left her dusting off the hiking boots. She put them on. Like the old jeans she was wearing, they were only a little tight. Time travel had not put any extra meat on her bones but she wasn't going to write to a style magazine and recommend mortal peril as a diet. Cybermen set a steady pace but for an intense workout nothing beats a Dalek. Christ, that's sick humor, Tegan. "Sounds like something Turlough might say if he weren't skin and bones to start with," she muttered. And now you're talking to yourself. OUT. Tegan went.

It was almost nine o'clock in the morning and still cold even though the sky was a rare clear blue. The sun shone down brightly on the Doctor's blond hair. As her grandfather had said, he was standing on the crest of a hill up past the TARDIS. There was a nice view of Little Hodcombe but why was it holding his interest? Unless he was thinking about something else. From a spot near the TARDIS, Tegan took a moment to watch him. His clothes were entirely of this planet, but they were not of this time. Everything visible about the Doctor was human and yet he looked unearthly. Maybe it was the halo of sunshine, but Tegan found herself thinking that he looked like an angel. Except for the wind ruffling his hair and making his coat tails flap like disguised wings, he was perfectly still. Not of this world; just stepped through a doorway in space and time; trailing glory, hands tucked in his trouser pockets.

Tegan giggled and then quickly covered her mouth, ducking behind the TARDIS. She didn't want to disturb him. She was afraid of what might come out of her mouth if they spoke. Her mind didn't feel like it was completely in her (still sore) head and her tongue might let anything slip. What couldn't she say to him, now that he was about to leave? Nothing she could say would make any difference. Her mood abruptly slid down away from the giddy end of the scale. Why wasn't he gone? Turlough must not be back.

She knew these woods. Picking out a path that would keep her out of sight of the hilltop, she moved from the cover of the TARDIS. Away from the cottage, away from the village, away from the Doctor: away, gone, but not fled. She wanted to believe that sun and wind could between them make her feel again that the world was a good place to live in.

What was that sound? A voice… the Doctor drew himself back into the present. It could only be more pleasant than his contemplation of the immediate past, full of death, destruction, and futility. Someone had giggled? Yes; and only one person had that exact husky voice. He'd known her for so long, he thought he could recognize Tegan in the dark from her voice alone if all she did was draw a deep breath.

Little Hodcombe spread itself before the Doctor's gaze, now that he actually looked at it. He preferred it at night, in the snow under the stars. In the daytime, he couldn't help but remember how the Malus had hidden itself in this deceptively idyllic spot. Sol was very bright today; the glare was giving the Doctor a bit of a headache. His biofeedback techniques weren't managing it very well. He rubbed his head. Turlough had left a note telling the Doctor he was staying with David's family and would check back to see if the Doctor was ready to go. No mention about Turlough being ready to go—fell on his feet like a cat, Turlough did.

Something was missing. The Doctor looked downhill; he had expected Tegan to join him, having heard her voice. Instead, he saw Andrew Verney standing outside his front door, frowning off to the left. Having had quite enough introspection, the Doctor left his hilltop and went down to speak to Tegan's grandfather. "Is something wrong?"

"That … stubborn wench of a grandchild. Gone running off into the woods. Didn't she ask you to go with her?"

"No, she didn't speak to me."

"And bumped her head again—oh, it was likely nothing, but after all the trouble you had sitting up with her, she should have said something."

"I'll go after her. I'm sure it's quite safe ordinarily, but extraordinary things do happen." The Doctor looked at the prints in the mud. She'd stood by the TARDIS—she'd ducked behind it to avoid his sight. And laughed at him on top of it. He felt like having a few words with Miss Tegan Jovanka.

The Time Lord strode off. If he heard Andrew Verney's mutter of "especially around you" he took no visible notice.

She was going at a good clip despite the occasional slipperiness of the ground wet from snowmelt. The air smelt crisp and fresh and Tegan felt like a fog was lifting from her spirit with every intake of breath. Or maybe it was the sun, gaily shining down upon her as though nothing evil could possibly happen in such a bright, beautiful world as this. Which was a lie, a lie by the clock, a lie by everything Tegan had known lately. Was there really some part of her that still believed that this was the real world and that the other was the illusion? Was there something left in her that was innocent and naïve? Tegan stumbled over a stone and barely kept from tripping. A hand grabbed her elbow and kept her upright. She never did handle surprise gracefully—she leapt like a startled deer. Somewhere in the jerky motion she turned and slipped and ended up with her back against a tree staring at the Doctor like he was a mugger. "Hell's teeth!" There was going to be more to the shout, but she was breathless.

How did they manage to do this to each other after all this time? They were friends—the kind of friends who rowed then made up with good will, only to find themselves fighting again. She could bring him up short like no one he could think of since his Academy days. Even when she was wrong, which, to be just, was not always the case. There were moments like these, when despite his best intentions, the Doctor found himself at point non plus with regard to Tegan Jovanka. "Sorry, Tegan, I didn't mean to startle you but I didn't want you to fall."

Here was her cue: time to rant and tell him she didn't need looking after or following; nor to be minded like a child by the high and mighty Time Lord. All Tegan had to do was stoke up a steam head of anger and let it blast. The usual routine.

As she stared at him, he began to look worried instead of apologetic and Tegan threw away the script. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Er, sorry for what exactly, Tegan?" The Doctor stumbled over the words. Probably he'd been expecting a rant.

"I didn't want to disturb you, on the hilltop. You looked…" preoccupied, remote, alien, "Like you didn't want to be disturbed," she finished lamely.

"I think I would have welcomed it, to be honest."

"You meant it, didn't you, when you said you liked long walks?" She started walking again, her pace slow with invitation. The Doctor followed her.

"I do like long walks, but when did I say that?" He also found it pleasant to walk and talk with a friend. It's a pity Tegan and I haven't done this before.

"That time with the rats and the Telireptils, remember, the ones with the fancy android," she reminded him. "Adric piloted the TARDIS to us. You said you would have preferred the long walk back to the TARDIS. You were being sarcastic so I wasn't sure if you meant that part."

The Doctor chuckled. "I'm afraid my temper was foul after losing the sonic screwdriver. One day I really must build another one. And they were Terileptils, Tegan."

"Why haven't you made another already, if you were so fond of it?"

"It would take a great deal of effort to build from scratch. There's a place I could go to get the components but it would take a lot of planning and other things keep coming up."

"And--?"

"And what?" the Doctor inquired rather haughtily.

Tegan looked at him sidelong. "That's not the only reason you haven't remade it."

The Doctor paused his steps. Tegan's flashes of insight were rare and always a surprise to him. Sometimes he wondered if she just kept quiet about them, even though she was usually outspoken. Tegan kept walking at a steady pace and he let her go a pace or two ahead of him before continuing. "I missed it too much. I don't like to be dependent on gadgets. I'd rather depend on my wits. Keeps me sharp."

She flashed a grin over her shoulder at him. "What do you call the TARDIS? Isn't that a gadget?"

"I can't very well travel through the vortex without her," he answered dryly.

"I was only teasing. Yeah, the screwdriver was a toy. The TARDIS is…"

He kept silent, waiting, then frowned when he realized she wasn't going to finish the sentence. It seemed to be that kind of day for her. "Is what?"

Tegan ducked under a tree branch without breaking stride. The Doctor found it easier to go around, and lost more ground to her.

Is what? Tegan wondered. She hated it when the words failed to come. She felt stupid, and if she got angry it was more at the brain that sat like a lump of inert lard in her skull than at anyone around her. But the anger was not coming today. It was lagging at her heel, unable to catch up to her tongue and make her spit out sarcastic rejoinders. She turned and waited for the Doctor to come up to her, noting his slightly annoyed expression.

"Is. Like, like a person. Or an animal. Not a pet, or livestock." Tegan felt like she was dragging the words out of her mind like a fisherman drawing a water heavy net full of wriggling fish from the sea. "A shepherd dog or a guard dog. Something that works and deserves respect and not to be just thrown away or lost." She waved a hand in frustration. The fish were getting away and slipping back into the sea and leaving her covered with scales and fishguts. "Sort of," she concluded inconclusively and hot-faced. Tegan abruptly turned her back on the Doctor and edged into forward motion. She didn't want to walk rudely away from him, only not to have to look at his patient expression as he untangled meaning from her speech. I Stupid, stupid, air hostess. Serve tea and say thank you. Haven't you learnt anything from all that time spent with geniuses/I She kicked viciously at a stone.

"The TARDIS isn't easily classified. But you are right, it does have a degree of autonomy and deserves respect," he said at her shoulder. "Where are we going, again?"

"I never said. What makes you think we're going anywhere?"

"You're headed in a specific direction, but not following a path. When you veer away from your heading because of obstacles, you return to the original course."

Tegan stared at him open-mouthed. He raised a polite eyebrow at her and she snapped her jaws shut. She hadn't planned on going somewhere. Oh. There. "A place I liked as a kid." She hesitated over the next words, looking into timeless blue eyes. They were perfectly human by appearance, but sometimes she thought she could feel the weight of centuries in his gaze. "When I visited here as a kid I used to go running all over these hills and pretend…" Tegan trailed off. It was an area where she often felt uncomfortable with the Doctor. She hated saying anything that reminded him that her childhood was only about a decade past. Ten years was the blink of an eye to a Time Lord.

Ah, he wasn't to know what she'd pretended. The Doctor rubbed a hand over his head and dismissed his irritation. Dreams are private, Doctor. She had said that to him once. For all that she was notoriously outspoken, there had always been something reserved about Tegan. The Doctor had gotten to know her ways and could usually anticipate her (and occasionally tease her, though Tegan was so easily baited that it was hardly sport) but there were some aspects of her personality he had never understood, especially her anger. What fueled that temper of hers? If he didn't find out today, he'd probably never find out. Now that Tegan was safe, it was time to leave. But he did, indeed, like long walks.

"My mum used to read me from Winnie-the-Pooh," she volunteered suddenly, deliberately not looking at him. "And this was my Hundred Acre Wood. And other places." Narnia. The Forest Sauvage. Mirkwood. It occurred to Tegan that the only man she'd ever met who would understand this was the alien walking beside her. I'll decide later if that's a good or a bad thing. "I called it my Thinking Place."

"How could I not like that? Lead on, then!" The Doctor smiled at her and wisely forebore to comment on any resemblance between Tegan and Eeyore.

They were headed uphill again. It didn't seem as if anyone had been this way in a while, the wood was rather overgrown with scrubby bushes. Tegan's small stature proved to be an advantage as she ducked under branches and bypassed brambles. The Doctor's coattail got caught by a thorny runner and Tegan turned back to help him.

"You're quite nimble without high heels, Tegan. I don't believe I've ever seen you wear any other footgear."

"I knew it would be muddy. Look at your shoes. I hope the TARDIS can cope with that."

Muddy shoes didn't fret the Doctor. "Why did you wear them so often? And in quite unsuitable conditions, too."

Tegan stood back and let him cope with the thorns by himself. He was almost free anyway. "I could tell you it's because it was always an emergency and I didn't have time to go find sensible shoes. But the thing is, I'm short."

The Doctor said leadingly, "You're not especially tall, no, but is that really important? Height is relative. You're taller than an ant and shorter than an elephant—"

"And two inches under the height requirement to be an air hostess. I had a family connection with pull, and once I was in they didn't go measuring me again. But all that time I wore high heels even when I wasn't in uniform. Literally, something to live up to. And I guess I got to feeling… that I needed them to measure up. So I'd run for my life in spike heeled shoes and then have the nerve to complain about sore feet. I told you long ago—mouth on legs, me." Tegan grinned at the Doctor then starting walking again.

The Doctor followed. Beside his amusement was the realization that Tegan was talking so freely now because they would soon be parted. As much as Tegan irritated him sometimes, he was fond of her. Even in the beginning, when she'd been desperate to get back home, she'd shown great bravery. Many of the reckless things she'd done had been because she was trying to save someone's life—often his. Tegan never seemed to trust him to look after himself. And of course, here he was, not trusting her to look after herself; following her through woods she'd known as a child. She must be well: she was full of energy, keeping ahead of him although his strides were longer and he really couldn't understand how she could do it in such tight trousers—a mystery better left unfathomed. The Doctor extended his stride when the undergrowth cleared and made room enough for him to walk next to Tegan.

At the top of the hill was a bit of stony ledge. It was exposed to sun and wind and therefore dry, when most of the surrounding earth was damp and mucky. Tegan stopped at the edge of the stony area and scraped at her hiking boots with a stick to get most of the mud off before climbing up onto the ledge. The Doctor followed her example. "Now, young lady, you can let me check your head. Your grandfather said you bumped it."

"It was nothing, honestly. I feel fine," Tegan protested, but was docile enough when the Doctor ran his fingers through her hair then checked her pupils.

"No soreness?" He didn't see anything to worry about, if she felt well.

"It's a bit tender where the cut is, but it feels better than yesterday. Better than yours, by the way you keep rubbing your head."

"The glare is bothering me a little." His tone was a trifle pettish. It was annoying that his usual techniques for controlling pain weren't working. He should be able to banish a simple headache at will.

"If you'd let me—no, that won't work."

Was the blasted woman incapable of finishing a sentence today? "What won't work?"

Tegan was looking around at the ledge they stood on. She crouched and felt the stone. "Not too cold. It gets sun here nearly all day. I could rub your temples, if you would-- I mean I can't-- oh, just lie down and put your head in my lap." Tegan sat down with a thump and glared up at him.

There was room, and the ledge was reasonably flat and clean. Tegan was looking at him as if expecting him to refuse, but her suggestion was quite practical. The warmth of her fingers would stimulate circulation and help ease the constriction of muscles and blood vessels. Besides, he'd done it for her. "Turnabout is fair play, I take it." Tegan's scowl lifted as he lowered himself close by.

The Doctor stretched out on the rock, his upper body raised on his elbows. Tegan scooted a little closer. After a bit of maneuvering, the Doctor's head came to rest on her thigh. She gently smoothed his hair back from his forehead and started to stroke very soft circles at his temples. His eyes closed. "That does feel soothing. Thank you, Tegan."

"You're welcome."

A few minutes later, Tegan realized that the Doctor had fallen asleep. She thought it wasn't merely the glare that caused his headache. His face should be relaxed, but he looked faintly troubled—or maybe it was just the odd angle. She'd never looked at the tall Time Lord from this perspective before. Tegan kept her fingers moving in circles and let her mind wander similarly.

tbc