SENSE PERCEPTION
Paring: Fifth Doctor/Tegan Jovanka
Synopsis: Do clothes, and a clean scent, make the man or woman? Tegan is about to find out.
Author's Note: I don't own any of the publicly recognizable characters. They are the property of the BBC. I am making no profit off of this story. It is just for fun and enjoyment, and no infringement is intended.
Tegan Jovanka put on the non-descript brown clothes the Volenines had given her earlier that afternoon. She sighed, wishing they used a different color other than brown. It was okay, but brown as a rule seemed more Nyssa's color than Tegan's. Nyssa, who was on the research planet Terminus, was a very scientific sort of girl; whereas Tegan was full of fire and vinegar, and didn't really care about academic pursuits. Red was much more to her liking, or a deep, rich purple, but the Volenines considered such colors garish and ugly. She had fussed about that with the Doctor earlier that day….
"Tegan, it is an honor to wear the brown hues of this planet," he had said. "It shows that you are accepted;that you are one of their family"Tegan's nose wrinkled as she took in the Doctor's beige cricketing outfit, and Turlough's brown suit. They both were, to put it bluntly, the belles of the ball, but with her geometric swirls and red skirt she had decided to wear, she had almost gotten all three of them arrested and paying hefty fines. The Doctor had managed to talk the Volenines out of both, but his eyes showed his disapproval with his female companion.
At least, she reasoned, she could wear this disgusting outfit for ONE play. It was their last night on the planet, and she could make do wearing her newfound worker bee clothes. She looked longingly at the perfumes she had brought with her, but these aliens also frowned on being "overly smelly" as the Doctor had called it. She thought back to that conversation…
"I don't see how wearin' a little fragrance is going to get me in trouble," she had protested.
"The Volenines have a very intense sense of smell, as do I," the Doctor had said after he'd talked to her about her style of dress.
"So, now you're sayin' you don't like the way I smell?" Tegan asked hotly.
"It can be a little overpowering to my olfactory sense, Tegan," the Doctor answered.
"So except for the way I dress, and smell, I'm okay?" Tegan practically shouted.
The Doctor looked at Tegan's curly ringlets and sighed, saying, "About your hair…"
XXXX
Later that night, Tegan sat next to the Doctor on one side, and Turlough sat on the other. The usually mouthy Australian woman was strangely quiet. By all appearances, she seemed to be enjoying the play, but Tegan was annoyed at having to not dress the way she liked. She had used her style as a sort of shield in a way, proclaiming who she was as a person. The fact that the aliens and the Doctor, and even to a lesser extent Turlough had managed to usurp that was a little unnerving.
"You're unusually quiet tonight," the Doctor whispered thoughtfully as they waited for the second act to begin.
"I just want to absorb the story in the play, all right?" Tegan responded in what she hoped was a neutral voice. The Doctor wasn't having any of that.
"No, you're angry, or agitated about something," the Doctor mused. For clarification, he added, "Your heart rate is higher than normal, and I can see sweat on your forehead, and it is not too hot in here."
"Let it go, all right, Doc?" Tegan whispered back fiercely.
The Doctor frowned, wondering that if he lived to be ten thousand, would he ever understand the majority of his human female companions. On her other side, Turlough seemed oblivious to the conversation. He laughed at a supposed joke the Volenine actors said.
The Doctor placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on Tegan's shoulder, muttering, "Brave heart, Tegan. Soon, we will be back in the TARDIS; I have the part I was searching for, and you can tell me what's on your mind." The Time Lord found that as he touched Tegan's shoulder, he wanted to touch a little lower. The material she wore was so enticing to him, so….He bit his lower lip, removing his hand. Choosing instead to glance at Tegan, who had by this time recovered from being too upset, he saw her short haircut and smelled her clean scent. His hearts beat in rhythm with her now steady one as he realized her presence was affecting him in a way he never thought he'd succumb to.
XXXXXX
As the play ended and the patrons of the theater filed out, it was the Gallifreyan Time Lord who was strangely quiet. Turlough was chatting on incessantly about the theatre's architecture, its cuisine, the actors, and the costumes (which were, of course, ordinary-looking.) He went to his room as soon as the trio entered the TARDIS, leaving Tegan and the Doctor alone in the console room.
Once again, the Doctor saw Tegan's brown jumpsuit and her face which was devoid of makeup. He struggled to get his now rapidly beating hearts under control and asked in what he hoped was his doctor-examining-a-patient voice, "so, Tegan, what's on your mind?"
"Nothing, Doc," Tegan replied sullenly.
The Doctor said nothing for a moment, waiting patiently for her to continue. When she didn't, he prompted, "Is it the fact that you had to change your style for an alien civilization?"
When Tegan didn't answer, the Doctor nodded in understanding. "'Clothes make the man,' or so they say. You felt uncomfortable at having to conform to a mode of dress that was not your own," he guessed. Tegan's look told him he'd hit one out of the park.
"When we visit these planets, you and Turlough look pretty much the same," Tegan complained. "You never have to change, but I had to…an' even though it was to avoid bein' arrested, or fined, it just was…"
"You were out of your comfort zone," the Doctor finished for her. "I understand. I suppose that is why I dress the way I do. Time Lord Clothes never really appealed to me. If we were back on Gallifrey, and someone expected me to dress the way I should as a Time Lord, I would have rebelled too, no matter how vacuous or vain it would have sounded." Tegan's eyes showed how grateful she was that the Doctor did understand. She started to leave when the Doctor's words stopped her. "I don't suppose you wondered how I felt about your new look, eh?" He asked.
Tegan turned back, staring at him. He looked at her as though she were a sweet treat he wanted to devour.
"Doc?" Tegan asked, peering at him suspiciously, "you've got a strange look in your eyes…"
"Do I?" the Doctor asked, smiling a lopsided smile. He came closer to the former stewardess until they were no more than an inch apart. He reached out, touching—no, fondling her jumpsuit. He breathed in her sweat, and beneath that, her clean scent. His fingers roamed through her short hair, stroking its silky, soft texture.
Tegan shook with anticipation. She ran her fingers through his blond hair. It was a slightly different texture, but it was interesting, just the same, as was his unique scent. Tegan wondered if he smelled this way all of the time, or when he was sexually stimulated, as he appeared to be. Glancing downward, she noted that the size of his "interest" had definitely grown larger. Always one to take the initiative, Tegan's lips claimed his in a sizzling kiss.
The Doctor's eyes flew open, the shock evident on his face, but he recovered as something more primitive took hold. He returned her kiss, sizzle for sizzle, passion for passion, as he told her, "this whole combination you've got going stirs me unlike any other thing you've worn…any other way you've smelled…." He licked her ear, then kissed her neck, right where her pulse was beating rapidly. He grabbed her hand suddenly, pulling her to his bedroom, where they both finished what they had started. As they lay in each other's arms, Tegan decided with a smile that brown was definitely her new favorite color, and that non perfumed, clean smelling soap was definitely a scent she could get used to.
The next morning, Vislor Turlough entered the dining room to find his two companions grinning from ear-to-ear as they ate their breakfast.
THE END
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