As the Doctor's tall figure retreated hastily down the labyrinthine hallways of his time capsule in search of Stor, Leela led Andred back to the TARDIS medical bay (thank goodness she could remember where it was - he certainly couldn't) to try and patch up his wounded shoulder. He was exceedingly grateful as, now that the excitement of the confrontation had passed, the laceration was becoming quite distractingly painful.
Thankfully the wound was largely superficial. Andred injected himself in the bicep with an anesthetic and identified a bottle of antiseptic rinse from an array of bottles Leela didn't know how to read while she found a packet of sterile gauze and a suture kit, then sat and watched her work with gentle, assured fingers as she cleaned the torn flesh and put two simple stitches in the skin to aid the healing process. This was clearly not the first combat wound she'd treated. What must life be like on her savage home world?
Feeling the sterile silence of the medical bay weigh heavily on him, he searched for something to say.
"I must offer my compliments to you, Leela," he began awkwardly as she tied off the thread and snipped it close to his skin. "Your skills and experience were quite apparent, when you felled that Sontaran solider so easily."
Leela smiled, surprised. Her eyes sparkled, an enchanting color like a blue star on the verge of supernova.
"I would have thought you would not approve," she confessed, in her low, musical voice. "The Doctor hates it when I use my knife. He calls me a violent savage."
That might be the first thing anyone had ever told him of The Doctor that made him sound anything remotely like a typical Time Lord.
"Well, I think you're very brave," he said honestly. "We may not have escaped without your knife, so maybe the Doctor should rethink his position."
Her grateful smile was open and earnest, and his words made her blush. He found himself unaccountably pleased by her unguarded reactions. She was so vibrant, so spontaneous, so alive... so unlike all of his own people.
"However did a woman like you end up in this antiquated capsule," he wondered aloud, "careening around the vortex with an errant Time Lord? You hardly seem the type to assist with scientific explorations."
She looked away, her smile faltering slightly.
"It is true that I do not always... understand... the Doctor's words. I often feel that he might prefer another, more intelligent assistant."
"I don't mean to offend," Andred apologized hastily, "and I'm not saying you aren't intelligent, Leela. It's just that your type of learning is clearly nothing like ours; it's been thousands of years since our people hunted and gathered their own food. It just seems highly unlikely that the Doctor would have been interested in traveling with someone from such an incredibly primitive culture."
Leela smirked cheekily.
"I did not give him much of a choice. When my people cast me out, I had nothing left on my own world. I had no desire to live out my days in exile. And I was eager to see the wonders beyond the stars. So... I simply ran inside the TARDIS and I hid until the Doctor took me away."
Andred shook his head and laughed aloud at her confession, incredulous that anyone could make such an impulsive, hasty choice about a matter that would change their life forever.
She laughed as well, apparently realizing how absurd her story must sound to him. Her laugh was a lovely sound, like music, and as free and open as she was.
"And how is it?" he asked, eager to hear her reply. "How do you find the traveling?"
"It has been wonderful and strange..." she told him, standing to put away the medical supplies.
"But?"
"But I do sometimes miss the comforts of my old planet. The hunt. The sun and the stars up in the night sky, and knowing what the world will look like, when the sun comes up."
She came and sat down again beside him, but her fair eyes were far, far away.
"I miss having a true home."
At the loss in her voice Andred found himself disturbed. He wanted to help somehow, to comfort her. But he didn't know what to do or say. There was no way for him to help her recover all that she had lost. He felt powerless and frustrated as he racked his brain for a way to ease her pain.
Leela looked at him, studying the distress in his face.
"You are kind, Andred," she whispered, with a wistful smile. "And you do not look at me as though I am a stupid beast. Thank you."
She placed her palm on his knee as she spoke, and his eyes flashed downwards to stare at it. Warmer than his own skin, he could feel its heat through the insulated fabric of his trousers. Somehow, its mere presence seemed to take his breath away, and his entire breadth of focus suddenly shrank down to that one small, over-warm point of contact on his thigh. What was wrong with him?
He felt his heart rates speed up and looked up to meet her eyes, confused at his own reaction to her nearness.
Then, without warning, Leela leaned forward and pressed her mouth softly to his. Andred went completely still with shock.
He knew from his studies that the gesture of touching mouths was one used to express varying degrees of affection among many cultures less civilized than Gallifrey. He'd always thought the idea was strange, and that it would be unpleasant to have one's personal space so invaded. He would never have expected to enjoy the sensation.
She sat back and looked at him expectantly. But he didn't know what to say. What was the custom? What had she even meant by this action? His face felt warm and feverish.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, and was embarrassed to hear that his voice sounded hoarse.
Leela smiled.
"Because I desired it," she replied simply. "Does it trouble you?"
"No, no!" he replied hastily. "I just… we don't… I've never…" his words were failing him.
"Never?" she asked with a smile, obviously amused.
"Never," he confessed, blushing. "It… isn't done here, typically."
She made an incredulous sound in the back of her throat, staring at him with parted lips.
"How lonely you all must be," she mused sadly.
Lonely? Why?
Andred forced down a surge of defensiveness that such a primitive would speak of the Time Lords with such pity. She was not, after all, trying to insult him. Besides, he was intrigued.
He had heard that other life forms craved physical contact with their own kind. It was clear that Leela's people numbered among them, but it had never occurred to him that such contact might benefit him as well. His highly analytical mind was certainly curious to find out, though. Especially if it meant he could remain close to her for a time.
He reached out a hand to brush her face, softly, and felt the heat of her human skin beneath his fingers.
"May I try that again?" he whispered softly, asking permission.
Her smile broadened.
"Yes," she breathed, and as she gazed up into his eyes he saw them darken as the inky pupils overtook the soft blue irises. "I think I would like that very, very much."
And he did.
At some point much later Andred pulled away and was shocked to realize he had no idea how much time had passed in the med bay. For a Time Lord, this was unthinkable, yet as he gazed down at Leela, her blue eyes glittering and her warm, human cheeks flushed with blood, he couldn't even bring himself to care.
Suddenly he understood why such touches were avoided among all time lords. Now that he had her, he didn't know if he could ever let her go.
I've lost my mind, he thought, remarkably unconcerned by the prospect. This is utter madness.
"Stay with me," he breathed into her hair as he pulled her body close against his with his uninjured arm.
"What?" she asked, startled.
"I mean," he took a deep breath to compose himself, "you could stay here, if you like - if you're tired of traveling. I know you could be happy here - even hunt outside the citadel with the other savag- with the others, if you like. And I know that you could bring so much new wisdom to my guard; you might help me train my recruits. Breathe some life into this stagnant place. And you wouldn't be lonely. Rodan has told me she would enjoy being your friend."
She looked at him in silence for a moment.
"And you?" came the shy question as she gazed him with hope and uncertainty in a way that caused his hearts to flutter.
He swallowed hard, and nodded his head, feeling for some reason as though he was falling off of a great precipice.
"I would be honored to call you friend, Leela. And I find I am very, very reluctant to watch you leave."
She looked at him for a long, quiet moment.
"Then I will stay," she agreed softly. "I find I am very reluctant to leave you."
If this is madness, he thought as he broke into joyful laughter, pulling Leela into his arms, I would gladly remain a madman for the rest of my lives.