"I think he'll be really pleased to see you," Rhiannon unlocked the blue wooden Tardis and allowed her four companions to pass through into the console room beyond.

Rose Tyler, her mother Jackie, her father Pete and Mickey Smith removed their coats, shook the snow from them and slung them over the entry stair's railings. It was the dead of winter in Other-Dimensional London and the day was bitterly cold and drearily overcast.

"So this fever 'e has," began Jackie with concern, "S'not contagious issit? I don' want to give anything to the baby when we go back home."

"No, it's actually caused by a poison, so it won't spread to any of you," Rhiannon answered as she unwrapped her scarf.

"The Doctor was poisoned?" Mickey asked disbelievingly and Rhiannon nodded. Rose did not seem too terribly astonished by the news.
"It's always something with him," Martha Jones commented from near the Tardis controls, saying aloud what Rose was already thinking. Jack Harkness stood from his seat on the floor and, along with Martha, greeted the newcomers. They all seemed glad to see each other, though Martha and Rose's salutations to one another were a little reserved.

Soon Rhiannon was leading the group through the Tardis' many hallways until she finally stopped before a closed door where she knocked and then entered.

"I've brought some people to see you," she declared brightly as she stepped into the room. The Doctor's bedroom was a bit smaller than the control room and was rather squarish in shape. It housed many bookshelves filled with volumes and knickknacks, a few tables, several scattered comfy-looking chairs and a large bed in which the Doctor currently lay reading a book. He put the book down on one the small tables next to his bed and grinned around at everyone.

"Oh this is just brilliant!" he smiled, pleasantly surprised.

"I thought this might cheer you up a bit," Rhiannon beamed and gestured towards seats for everyone. Rose and Martha perched themselves on the empty side of the Doctor's bed and everyone else took chairs nearby.

"It's really good to see you," the Doctor said and when Jackie snorted doubtfully the Doctor looked directly at her and his smile grew, "Yes, all of you."

"You're doing all right then, Doctor?" Rose asked and the Doctor nodded. Martha moved closer to him and felt his forehead then his pulse in a doctorish fashion. Rose glared in Martha's direction.

"Pass your exams yet?" the Doctor inquired as Martha made him open his mouth and say "Ahhh". Satisfied that he did not need any immediate medical attention, Martha sat back and nodded. "Some of them, yeah. I've done fairly well."

"Good!" The Doctor smiled encouragingly at Martha and turned to ask Pete how his business was going. After a few minutes of small talk Jackie commented on the cold and everyone agreed that it was more than a little chilly in the room.

"I'll turn up the heat," Rhiannon offered, "And would anyone like some tea?" There were nods of affirmation and so she made her way first to the broiler to heat the Tardis and then to the kitchen. The Tardis was practically glacial but the cold apparently assuaged the Doctor's fever and keeping the temperature in the Tardis low was much easier than trying to haul the Doctor into an icy bath. It had been hard enough heaving the Doctor's half-lifeless body to his room a week before when the fever first struck him.

Rhiannon reentered the bedroom with a china tea service and seven mismatched cups. She served tea for all of the guests and then poured a steaming cup for herself which she sat on a table as the Doctor stared at her imploringly.

"Where's mine?" he finally asked and in response Rhiannon pulled a small corked phial from her pocket.
"Oh no," the Doctor groaned and winced, eyeing the phial as though it would kill him. It was filled with a vile greenish liquid and its smell made everyone's noses wrinkle when she unstopped it.

"Yes," Rhiannon said resolutely and advanced on him. "You will drink this."

"I will not!" the Doctor argued. "It's disgusting!"

"It saved your life!" Rhiannon retorted and handed him the phial. "You've got to keep taking it until you're totally well and we're certain the poison is completely gone!"

"Aww but couldn't you have made it taste a bit better? Maybe some flavoring?" the Doctor whined as he stared reluctantly at the medicine she handed to him.

"I risked a lot to make you that stuff! It took so much time and effort! And I run to and fro for you day and night! The least you could do in return is take your medicine without complaining every time!" Rhiannon admonished him and the Doctor swallowed the potion, feeling slightly guilty at making a fuss but glowering nonetheless.

"Yech!" the Doctor pulled a disgusted face and passed the phial back to her. Rhiannon looked pleased and exited the room without another word. When she returned a few minutes later she held a large glass filled with a frosty smooth yellow drink that looked far more appetizing than the medicine had.

"Banana shake!" the Doctor said delightedly, his eyes lighting up as she handed it to him.

"You don't deserve it, you're being so difficult," Rhiannon remarked, though the corners of her mouth were quirked in a smile and the Doctor smirked up at her in turn.

"Is there anything else anyone wants?" Rhiannon asked, turning to the others as she played at being the consummate hostess. She did not really expect anyone to answer but, of course, the Doctor did.

"Ice cream cake," he announced decisively and sipped his shake, "I'd like ice cream cake and oh…uhm… peanut butter! Yes, I fancy ice cream cake and peanut butter!"

Rhiannon stared at him for a moment in disbelief at his bizarre request.
"We haven't any ice cream cake and you finished off the peanut butter yesterday…" she explained incredulously, her smile having vanished.

"Well that's what I want!" The Doctor replied mulishly, his tone of voice bordering on petulance. In only a few seconds he had gone from placated to demanding. He had been doing that since he regained consciousness. Rhiannon tried to remain calm but this latest order, on top of all the other things she had done for the Doctor lately, was quite irksome.

"Honestly! Ice cream cake and peanut butter! You'd think you were a pregnant woman and not just a bloke with a fever!" Rhiannon said in exasperation as she stood. "Suppose I'll be going to a shop then." As she reached the doorway she glanced back at the Doctor once more, hoping he would change his mind- she did not particularly feel like another jaunt through London's currently icy roads- but the Doctor only nodded determinedly. With an audible sigh and many mutterings under her breath, she left the room.

"You're milking this, aren't you Doctor?" Martha grinned in amusement.

"Well of course I am," the Doctor smiled in return, "It's not every day that I get a chance to be waited on hand and foot!"

As those in the room laughed with the Doctor, Rhiannon stuck her head back through the door and scowled at the Doctor. "What kind of ice cream cake?" she questioned, annoyed.

"Oooh, uh, chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream in the middle topped with cream icing and those little round festive sprinkle things."

Rhiannon gaped at him. "Okay, that's strangely specific." She was already turning to leave.

"And smooth peanut butter, not crunchy!" he called after her. "And I'd like another shake!" Faint grumbling from down the hall confirmed that she had heard him. The Doctor jovially returned his attention to his visitors.

It was nearly an hour later that a very cold and irate Rhiannon returned; a plate with a slice of cake and fork in one hand, a fresh banana shake in the other and, in the crook of one arm, a jar of peanut butter and a spoon. She put the shake on the bedside table, sat the plate on his lap and unscrewed the jar of peanut butter, sticking the spoon in it before handing it to him.

"When you're well, you're taking me to Paris for the biggest shopping spree of my life," she told him as she picked up the empty shake glass to return it to the kitchen. "We'll be drowning in shoes!" she hollered as she entered the hallway. The Doctor's only reply was to smile blithely after her.

Rhiannon came back into the room just as Pete finished telling an anecdote that had everyone laughing. She smiled in bemusement and took a seat in a corner, away from the Doctor's bed and his circle of guests. Jack began a story of his own and Rhiannon found herself falling into a reverie as she mused over the Doctor's current situation and the events that caused and preceded it.

It had all begun as a rather routine adventure. The Doctor received a distress signal and he and Rhiannon disembarked on a lush rainforest planet to find out who needed their help. Not entirely surprisingly the distress call was a ploy to lure the Doctor to the planet, where an alien with a vendetta against him awaited the Doctor's arrival. The Doctor and Rhiannon were imprisoned, taunted, faced with a villain and of course there were the usual dangers necessary on any adventure. In his typical fashion, with witticisms and cleverness, the Doctor was able to get himself and Rhiannon out of the perilous situation and vanquish the villain- but not without sustaining a rather small wound from what they later realized was a poisoned dagger blade. It was this poison that caused the fever and, unless he could get the poison out of his system, the fever would consume the Doctor.

Though the resentful alien creature was technically defeated, it was confident that the poison would be the final instrument of its vengeance. What the creature had not accounted for in its plans was a very determined Timelady that could fly the Tardis. After dragging the half-conscious Doctor to his room she maneuvered him onto the bed and removed his overcoat and trainers. It took a few more moments to wrestle off his suit jacket and tie before she could unbutton his shirt and press her ear to his chest. His hearts were beating rather slowly, but at least they were beating.

Rhiannon flew the Tardis to a desolate icy planet and opened vents so that the freezing air would cool the ship. The chill appeared to ease the Doctor's fever some though it left Rhiannon shivering. Over the next few hours she researched the Doctor's symptoms and finally came upon a recipe for an antidote that might just do the trick. She had no idea what sort of poison had been used but she narrowed it down enough so it seemed that this particular remedy would be likely to cleanse the Doctor. The greatest problem came in gathering the rather rare and widespread ingredients, but Rhiannon was up to the challenge. She spent the equivalent of two days collecting what she needed, checking on the Doctor frequently and finding that his condition seemed to be worsening.

He was wracked with chills, sometimes shivering from the cold and other times sweating from the burning of his fever. He tossed and turned, feverish and insensible, murmuring and crying out. Sometimes she recognized the names he mumbled and sometimes she did not. He mentioned Susan, Adric, Sarah Jane. He called for Romana, for Ian, for Ace. She thought she heard him muttering about the Master. He named many others. He said Jack's name once, Martha's a few times, but most often he wanted Rose.

His obviously desperate need for Rose made Rhiannon feel a little jealous and rather forlorn. Rose was not here however and Rhiannon was and at the moment she was all the Doctor had. That fact consoled her somewhat.

The Doctor's heart rates were more sluggish each time she looked in on him. Though she worked fervently Rhiannon began to despair that she would not finish the antidote in time the save the Doctor. When she finally completed the restorative only one of the Doctor's hearts was faintly beating and she felt that had she taken any more time he would certainly be dead. She had to force feed the antidote to him- his distaste for it was strong even in a comatose state. The potion did not begin to work immediately and Rhiannon was gnawed with the doubt that perhaps she had not concocted the correct cure. Her hope was restored in time as the Doctor's fever began to wane and his restlessness diminished.

From the point that she administered the first dose of medicine she hardly left his side. After piling blankets over him she crawled beneath them and lay down next to the Doctor, exhausted from her endeavors and her worry. She placed her hand on his forehead to check his fever and then stroked his warm unshaven cheek with her cool slender fingers. Leaning on her head on his shoulder she began to speak in comforting tones meant to reassure herself more than the Doctor; she suspected that in his current frame of mind he probably did not comprehend a word she said.

"You'll be fine," she murmured and brushed a few strands of his hair from his sweating forehead. "You'll get better and we'll go back to the way things were. The way things ought to be." She sighed and propped herself up on an elbow, staring down at his still face. Slowly, cautiously, she leaned forward and gently brushed her lips against his. Her lips moved to his ear and she breathed, in little more than a whisper, "I love you, Doctor." He did not stir. Settling her head on a pillow she yawned, closed her eyes and slept.

During the hours that they slept the Doctor recovered enough that, when Rhiannon awoke, it was to find him staring at her with a serene smile on his face.

"Hullo…" she said softly.

"Hello," the Doctor replied amiably and his smile widened.
"How are you feeling?" she asked him sitting up and shivering as the frozen air touched her now warmed skin.

"Loads better. Thanks." The Doctor's eyes at that moment expressed his appreciation far more than his words had.

"I'll get you some tea," she said as she begrudgingly wriggled out from under the blankets to step onto the frigid metal floor. The Doctor watched her go in silence.

The clatter of a fork on china brought Rhiannon back to the present and she looked round as the Doctor rested his empty plate on the table. He caught Rhiannon's gaze with his own and smiled warmly at her until she gave a grudging little smile in return. He knew he was being slightly unreasonable but also knew that her bad humor was caused more by the weather than by him.

She had behaved brilliantly in bringing him to wintry places and by cooking up the antidote. Rhiannon's consideration and patience with the Doctor during his convalescence was more than he would have expected or asked of anyone. He would never let on that he had, in fact, heard her hushed profession of love for him. It would be easier for both of them if he did not reciprocate. Still, it did not mean that he didn't care for her at all. The Doctor truly was grateful for everything she had done for him and he tried to convey this through his smile and a little wink before he turned back to listen to Rose and Martha speaking.

There were times when Rhiannon wondered if perhaps the Doctor had actually heard her whispered confession. Times when he smiled at her like he had just now, or when he touched her hand or gently pushed a curl of hair out of her face. She wished with desperation that their feelings for one another were mutual, that someday he would repeat the three words to her that she had whispered to him. Wished that he would look deep into her eyes and say,

"Rhia, I…" the Doctor actually was speaking to her now and she glanced over at him, her thoughts still on her feelings, her face hopeful as he continued, "-want another banana shake."

Rhiannon's face fell and she gave an inward sigh. Well, she told herself as she took up his latest empty glass and left the room, that's the Doctor for you.