Noites dos sonhos

Disclaimer: It's all BBC and not mine at all. Comprende?

Author's notes: Title is Portuguese. Originally, this story started out as a take on Loups Garoux with Tegan still traveling with the Doctor, but it took on a life of its own. Currently, I'm only using a couple of the characters from the story, and the location. Beyond that, it's branching out. Takes place sometime after Resurrection of the Daleks with Tegan still aboard. Definitely AU. Definitely R.

Enjoy.

**

He watched her from the door of the cloisters. His effervescent, fiery, loud companion had been alarmingly quiet since their run-in with the Daleks often taking to sitting and staring at the walls of the cloisters for long periods. She sat on the bench at the far side under the ivy trellis, trailing her fingers through the greenery, staring at it as though she hadn't seen it previously. A part of him felt, and felt quite acutely, that she would and should have left in that warehouse. She was exceptionally unforgiving of his actions, but he had told her she was needed. Not by whom, or even what for, but he had told her she was needed and she had preceded him back into the TARDIS to stand, quietly with her eyes downcast, at the side of the console.

He wondered if he had forced her, through the blackmail of friendship, to remain where she wasn't comfortable. He hoped not, but here she remained and apparently, not happily.

He softly called her name and saw her shift.

With a sigh and a lowered head, he stepped through the low hanging ivy to join her. "I'll need to garden in here soon. How are you, Tegan? Turlough and I have missed you these last few days."

"You know me, I'm indestructible," she answered back quietly, not glancing in his direction. "I've just felt like being alone."

He nodded and waved his hand towards the other side of the bench. "Are you up to company now?"

"Suit yourself," she muttered quietly. He turned, sweeping the tails of his coat back and sat next to her, staring out at the ivy much like she was doing.

With a sigh, the Doctor lowered his head to stare at his hands. "Are you all right, really? You're quiet, Tegan, scarily so."

Tegan smiled tightly and turned to glance at him momentarily and then back out at the cloisters. "I'm not angry at you, you know. I justdon't agree with what you did, what you 'had' to do, Doctor. I don't. I still don't."

"I didn't kill him," the Doctor muttered, a level of anger appearing in his voice. "But you have to understand about Davros, Tegan. His deaththe Daleks are" he sighed. "I didn't kill him, Tegan and I can't apologize for wanting to kill him. And as for the rest of the Daleks" he shrugged minutely, holding his hands so the palms were up. "There should be another way, Tegan, to deal with them. But they have no conscience to appeal to."

She contemplated him. "I know that. As bad as the bloody Cybermen, they are. But Hell's Teeth, DocI just can't agree with it."

"How would you want me to handle it?" he asked, the question tinged with anger and disbelief.

"I don't know," she said, her voice rising. Then with a sigh, she patted her legs. "I don't know. But it makes the cure seem as worse as the disease and I don't know if that's good or not. I don't know how to handle them. I'm human. I don't deal with the ogre under the bridge like you Time Lords do. All I'm saying is that I'm trying to link what I know of you with what I saw and heard there, Doc. It wasn't youit was like" she bit her lip and looked away, back to the ivy.

He nodded, quiet. "I suppose you have a right to your emotions and thoughts," he replied.

"Thanks a lot," she whispered in return.

"Do you want me to take you to Earth, Tegan? I did rather ask youI feel as though maybe you wanted to"

"Yes and no, Doc. I don't know," she answered honestly. "Just because I don't agree doesn't mean a hill of beans in the Universe, Doc. But I have to have some time towhat's the word for itwhat I know of you and what I saw thereand find what I believe now."

He lifted an eyebrow and nodded. "Would you like me to tell you that we've landed?" he joked quietly. "Or would you rather me wait?"

Tegan rolled her eyes and glanced at her friend. "Oh, please. Wait."

"Yes, well," he gave her a smile. "We are still friends, aren't we, Tegan?"

Her nod was short. "Of course. Where have we landed?"

"Twenty second century, Earth, Rio De Janeiro. Just in time for Carnival."

Her eyes widened and a small smile warmed her lips. "Carnival? You are trying for points, Doc."

"Yes, wellyou did rather look in need of a holiday and I needed down time and you like to dance. Turlough is actually looking forward to it."

Tegan smiled widely and for the first time in several days, he had a feeling the happiness she was showing was heartfelt. His smile widened and he tilted his head toward her as if to say something, but he didn't. He stared at her face as she turned it away from him, still smiling, towards the greenery. Her brown eyes were wide and large, full of life, her white teeth peeked out from between her lips, her cheeks colored slightly in her happiness, but then he saw the moment that sadness crept back into her countenance. Her face dimmed as the inner spark died as he watched.

He sighed, giving his hands an angry glance as if blaming them for his inability to make his companion happy. Then he rose, calmly pulled out his hat, placed it on his head and then graciously offered his arm to her. "If you would allow it, Miss Tegan"

With a frown, a raised eyebrow, but with a slightly lighter attitude, she reached up, rose and joined him as he walked out of the cloisters and toward the console room.

**

**

It was the music that cheered her, she thought as she stepped from her room onto the small veranda. She felt the hot breeze waft over her and breathed in the aroma of the party brewing below. She could hear the salsa and mamba music blaring; could see the feathers, beads and bright colored costumes as far as she could see; could almost taste the spiced food the aroma of which wrapped her in a wicked embrace. Tegan leaned on the iron railing and tried to inhale the party she felt growing around her.

It was almost sad that Turlough had turned down the foray into the crowd and the night to join them at the inn the Doctor had chosen, she thought. But she wanted, yearned, to just have fun and fought like a drowning woman against the riptide of depression.

"Tegan?"

Turning, she saw that the Doctor had retreated to the verandah outside his room as well. He rested in a low chair, smiling inwardly at the growing anticipation he felt in the air around him. His smile vanished as she completed her turn toward him. The sun was setting behind him; his face was in shadow to her; she couldn't tell if he was looking at her or past her. But something in his voice made her uneasy suddenly and overly warm.

"What, by Gallifrey, are you wearing?"

In an effort to be friendly, she glanced down and smiled. "What, this old thing? I bought it an hour ago. It's a mambo dress; colorful isn't it? I thought it best to fit in with the natives," she finished, glancing back up at him. She didn't know what the commotion was from him about the dress. True, it was revealing, but then again everything in Rio at that moment was. There was a bikini top of sorts and a long slit skirt on the bottom; it showed a lot of skin, but she felt decent.

"Mambo?" the Doctor responded with a small chuckle. "You dance the mambo?"

"Of course," she nearly barked out, walking towards the railing that separated their verandahs. "Else why would I have bought this dress, Doc? I did learn a few things in life, you know."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. I just didn't know that mambo dancing was a requirement for air stewardessing," he joked. "That color is rather bright."

"And you'll just go in your trousers and shirt, won't you?"

"That was the plan, Tegan."

"What of fitting in, Doc? You could at least get a new hat."

He tilted his head back and she could tell he was looking up at the rim of his hat. "What's wrong with my hat? It is rather my favorite."

"It's old and getting ratty, Doc," she sighed. "And"

He rose and strode over railing. "You're attempting to get my ire up, Tegan."

"Right in one," she muttered with a smile.

As he neared the railing, she saw his eyes again, freed from the shadows. They were dark blue and half hidden by the rim of his hat. He glanced down at her feet and hummed lowly. "It won't work. I'm in too good a mood this evening, Tegan."

"Ah," she said, mock mournfully. "And here I had so hoped for familiarity. You and Carnival; oho, strike that. You and any fun aren't to be used in the same sentence so freely, Doc. It'll upset the balance in the Universe."

"Hmm," he replied, pulling down his hat and worrying it between his fingers and palms. "I do know how to have fun, Tegan. And I do know how to dance the mamba and samba."

"Ah, but no tango," she pointed out. "The question is," she began, holding out her hand to him. As he took it, she climbed over the railing to join him on his. "The question is not whether you know how, Doc, but whether you will dance them."

"No tango, Tegan," he reassured. "And I gather you don't know how to dance it either. The point of Carnival is fun; it is also for dancing. I can and will dance either or both of the dances this evening."

"If only to win the point."

He gave her a glare and frowned. "Would you like to remain on the verandah all night or would you rather join the festivities below?"

Tegan turned and glanced over the railing to the street below. The music was increasing in tempo and decibel and drew her to hold onto the metal. "Yes."

She said it simply and quietly. When she didn't hear a comment from him and he didn't join her at the railing, she looked at him. He was leaning against the railing behind her, staring at her. "Doc?" She hoped he wasn't going to ask her again why she remained on the TARDIS. She wanted to forget about the warehouse; she wanted to forget that she had lost faith in him; she wanted to forget Daleks and Time Machines and reasons and tortures and evil. She just wanted to have fun and try to remember why she had become such close friends with him in the first place. Maybe, she thought, if I act the same, situations will occur the same.

"I suppose that was a yes for joining the festivities below."

She nodded and he turned, holding out his hand to her. "Then let's go, Tegan. So much to do, so little time in life."

**

"Can we get to the front do you think or is it as bloody unlikely as the TARDIS landing at Heathrow?" she asked loudly.

The Doctor frowned, stopped and pulled her to stand in front of him. His hands fell to her shoulder and her waist to keep her near him and still moving forward. "Have a little faith, Miss Tegan. I'll get us to where you can see and dance to your heart's content."

She glanced up at him. His cool hands contradicted the flush at his cheeks, but he looked the same as always. "And you?" she called.

His lips cracked in a wide grin. "I'll offer myself up as a partner, if you would like."

Tegan was stopped from making a comment as they pressed into the throng around them. She couldn't see anything but people and costumes. He led her by gentle pressure against either side of her body until they broke through and found a small island of clear near the edge of the street. The parade was moving, slow and the music was loud. As they stopped, she completed their conversation. "Be careful, Doc, I just might take you up on it and then where would you be? Let's hope for your sake there're some men around here looking for a partner."

He cocked an eyebrow, taunted into a small temper by her teasing. Then with a grin, but a growing flush on his cheeks that betrayed his embarrassment, he held out his arm and took her hand. "I'll warm you up for them, then, shall I?"

"A gentleman to the last," she bit out, but then smiled, warmed by his effort. He eased her into his arms, in almost perfect mamba form as the first of the floats passed them.

"I do try," he responded, good-naturedly.

"Of course," she allowed. "I wouldn't-"

The sound suddenly drifted away to nothing, leaving gaping silence in her head.

**

"Dancing? He wants to do more than dance, child."

Tegan blinked her eyes. The Doctor had turned her away from him and was leading her in more steps with his hands on her hips. The silence still thundered around her. She could see the dancers, musicians and singers milling around them. The world was a rainbow of color, bright red, blue, green, pink and purple. The world moved in silence; she was lost; everything closed in around her.

Except one pair of eyes; one man, a lone man standing on the pavement directly across from her. His eyes bore into her. She felt cold, barren, and adrift.

"He is trying to give you back happiness, isn't he, little one?"

She gaped at the man. He drew his head back, his gaze growing more intense. "You don't know me; get out of my head; what's happening?"

The man smiled. She could see his grin from where she danced with the Doctor. "You've traveled with him long enough to not panic at the thought that someone is in your head. Isn't that sad, my dear? What is happening? Don't you know?"

"Stop it. It's my mind; I want it back," she bit out desperately.

"And you are his and he wanted you back," the voice returned. Images assaulted her mind in quick succession.

The warehouse. The cold, the pain, the absolute desperation of seeing the Doctor become a man she no longer knew. Running, feeling the pavement jar her steps through her shoes. Calling out that she would miss him. And then the scuffling of feet, the anguished call to her. The running and feeling a hand close on her arm. The twisting. The seeing that it was the Doctor that held her. That was keeping her from running. 'Please, Tegan, not like this. Stay. You're needed. Turlough and I, we need you. Don't leave me in fear and anger, please.' His hand tightening, feeling the pull of his hand to bring her into the nook of one of his arms. 'You're distraught, Tegan. Please.'

She rocked on her feet, feeling the Doctor's hand ease her to turn back toward him, but she continued her steps as she was. His hands tightened on her hips in response.

"And you stayed with him, didn't you, child? Because you could see that he did, truly, need you. It's more than need, though. As a woman, you should know that. Feel that. He wants you to stay."

"Get out of my mind" she growled, clenching her teeth. "Stop rooting around in there. Leave me be. Get off."

"Not curious are you? To know that a Time Lord wants for something?"

"How did you –"

"Know he was a Time Lord? The same way I know that he wants more than dancing with you, my dear. I can feel it. See it, and almost taste it. You're one that likes to have things laid out for you, Tegan. I think I should show you"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother-"

Moonlight, water, rain and mud. Warmth. The only warmth around. A pair of arms. A tight whispered voice. Naked in someone's arms. He's naked as well, or mostly naked, her hands helping him divest of his trousers. Breath mingling, arms tangled, legs wrapped about each other. The night shrouding them, embracing them, enfolding them. His voice in her ear, gentle, warma whispera loving word.

"That's never happened," she moaned, shaking. She could feel the emotions rolling over her like an erotic wave. It crested and she gasped.

"It's what could happen, if you let it. My child, don't you know, don't you feel it? It's what is buried under his Time Lord training, his high and mighty, and lofty, untouchable birth. It's what he wants: You."

Tegan shook her head and felt the Doctor gently pull on her hip to make her turn. She did, slowly, keeping eye contact with the man. "Nono more," she gasped. "It's too much"

The man lifted an eyebrow and began to step back into the crowd. "It soon won't be, my dear child. Turn to your Time Lord, face him, and see your friend. Dance. I'll see you again soon. There's so much to show you, to lead you, to make the Doctor see. This world will change."

She turned, breaking contact and suddenly the sound pounded into her, nearly knocking her off her feet. Tegan reached out to lay her hands on the Doctor's shoulders, but found the ground rushing up to meet her as she crumpled from the pure strength of the returned sound.