The small furry alien was painting fantastic, intricate patterns on my inner forearm, chirping with delight as he did so. His tiny paintbrush felt cold and tickly on my skin as it made tiny strokes of black paint. I smiled down at him, enjoying his work, glad I'd let the Doctor talk me into getting what he called a "gobflower ink charm."
We were in the center of an underground market at the bottom of the city, surrounded by all the odd new sights and smells and sounds of a bustling alien world... and I was getting the Gy equivalent of a henna tattoo painted onto my arm. For some reason I felt strangely... at home. The busy market place reminded me a lot of fairs and farmers' markets back home on earth, though here there were a lot of very odd-looking aliens and the wares were infinitely more interesting.
The Doctor stood beside me, his head nearly bent over where the furry alien was painting me, his long hair flopped in his face.
"Fascinating..." he breathed, admiring the tiny, delicate brushstrokes that were coming together to form a truly beautiful flower.
"So..." I asked the artist, "what is the purpose of this tattoo? It's so pretty!"
The alien quirked his head to one side at the unfamiliar word, "tattoo," but seemed to get the gist, "Eet ees... charm... beaut-ee-fool flower for beaut-ee-fool alien lady." He gestured to me, and I stifled a laugh.
"I'm no princess, sir, but thanks," I couldn't help but smile, and the Doctor caught my eye. His expression made me giggle again, and then I forced my face into a very serious expression as the artist looked up, apparently finished with his creation on my arm.
"Eet ees done," he said, and I raised my arm to inspect it properly. The alien had painted the tiniest details into the flower, and I felt a bit awed by his talent.
"Th-thanks," I said, still holding my arm up to let the ink dry, "How much?"
"Let me," the Doctor interjected pulling out some purple and silver coins from his pants pocket and presenting them to the furry alien. The artist grinned, revealing smooth, white teeth, and took the money.
"You pay well," he said, "so you will have best charm." He looked at me as if he was proud of me or something, and I felt a bit confused.
"I'm sorry, best charm?"
"Yees. You and the tall man are kind, so you are blessed," the alien replied, gesturing towards the Doctor and I.
"O-okay, thanks," I replied, getting up from my low stool and smiling politely at the furry creature, "that's a nice thing to say."
The alien didn't respond, only smiled wider, and made an odd gesture over my outstretched arm. A warm, fuzzy, humming sound resonated in his chest, and then he lowered his hand and turned from us. Apparently we were being dismissed.
I smiled and shrugged at the Doctor, who looked pleased, and we left the little painting booth, I still admiring my arm art and he looking around the market excitedly. I was still letting my arm dry as we approached another stall, this one was filled with beautiful, glowing lamps, and the stall-keeper greeted us warmly. She was tall and thin like the Wombolans, but pink instead of blue. I vaguely wondered if she actually was one of that species and whether their females were just that color.
"Ahhh!" she exclaimed, noticing the painted flower on my arm, "that is a... very... expensive... charm!" Ah... she is a Wombulan... "You are... very lucky! I... envy you..." She smiled kindly down at the Doctor and I.
"Why, thank you!" the Doctor chirped, but I was starting to get a weird feeling about what I'd had painted on my arm. It was drawing a lot of attention. "How much for that blue lamp, please?" the Doctor continued, "I'm very fond of lamps, especially blue ones, well, any color really, but especially blue ones..."
As he kept talking, I began to feel a weird warmth growing inside me, like I had a slight fever. I tried to ignore it as the Doctor and the Wombulan lady haggled over price, but soon it intensified to the point that I felt a bit light-headed.
"Doctor..." I murmured in spite of myself, "Doctor, I don't feel very normal..."
He stopped talking at once, turning towards me in concern.
"What is it?" he asked, feeling my forehead at once like I was a sick child, "where does it hurt?" His large blue eyes grew larger with worry.
I tried to wave him off, feeling a bit embarrassed. My heart rates were starting to speed up.
"No, no, it doesn't hurt," I said, gently removing his hand from my forehead, "I think I have a fever or something... It feels... really weird..."
"You're getting a bit... flushed..." the Doctor said, touching my left cheek with interest.
"It is... the charm!" the Wombulan lady interjected, and the Doctor and I froze, turning towards her very slowly.
"HUH?" We both sounded very intelligent and informed. Not.
"The... charm... the gobflower ink... charm... a charm of... love and... happiness... Didn't you pay... for it?"
I stared at her with a mixture of horror and rising hilarity which felt oddly unattached to me.
"So, wait, he... What?" the Doctor said, pointing to the furry alien's art stall behind us and then to me and then back again. He looked very flustered. "Excuse us..." He took hold of my hand, pulling me back across the road to where the alien artist was still in his shop.
I started giggling, I'm not even sure why, and blurted out, "Ooh Doctor you're strong!" He stopped dead in the middle of the busy street, a look of horror on his face like I'd just admitted to a murder. Then he wheeled around, dragging me into the alien's stall, then pointed wildly at the painting on my arm and said very sternly, "What have you done? What is this?"
The poor alien look genuinely confused and embarrassed, "Eet ees a love charm, you paid for eet... That is what the gobflower ees known for, eets... exciting properties." I stifled another giggle, feeling oddly at peace with what the alien was saying, even as the Doctor looked more and more unnerved.
"So she... she's being affected by it?" he nearly shouted, waving his arms frantically.
"Of course! Eet will only last for a short time, so use eet well!" the alien said hurriedly, gesturing to me. This seemed like enough information to me, so I turned and began to walk out of the stall. I could hear the Doctor splutter behind me, but for some reason I didn't care. The heat inside me was very calming, somehow, even though my hearts were racing and my chest was heaving up and down. I actually managed to walk about twenty feet before the Doctor caught up to me, and he took me by the shoulders, turning me to face him. The feeling of his fingers on me made me shudder, and I felt my face grow more flushed. Then I giggled. "Doctor, not in public, you naughty man!"
"Hero..." the Doctor spoke softly, but even in this odd state I could sense his concern, "maybe we should go back to the hotel for a bit, wait until this stuff wears off... I'm so, so sorry I talked you into it!"
"But it's so pretty!" I protested, feeling tremors race through my whole body as he took hold of my hands. I was momentarily fascinated by his left earlobe, and I stared at it intently.
"Come on," he said, beginning to pull me along, and I laughed out loud as his hair flopped comically about.
"Are you always this commanding?" I inquired, between giggles, "Ooh doctor, you're so sexy when your pulling me around... You should do it more!" I felt absolutely no embarrassment as I let my mouth say these things, and the Doctor merely gave me a rather pitying look and continued to lead me back through the crowds of aliens towards our hotel.
"I think we should head to the forest planet after this, Pern... It'll be calming and... make you less crazy..."
"Crazy?" I said, and I realized that I was having more difficulty speaking clearly for some reason, but it didn't bother me, "Crazzzy?" I slurred again, just as the Doctor pulled me into the hotel's main entrance and hurried me off to the elevator, "I'm not the crazy one, Doctor, you are! Floating around in a box... finding random people to snog, being bloody beautiful all the time..." I had lapsed into a weird British accent, slang words and all. We were in the elevator now, and the Doctor tried to shush me as politely as possible. After some consideration, he decided that placing a finger against my lips would do the trick. I did indeed stop talking, staring back at him as he continued to rest his fingertip against my mouth. The heat in my body nearly overwhelmed me, and my knees gave out. With a sigh, the Doctor caught me, picking me up in his arms just as the elevator door slid open to reveal the door of our room.
I was beginning to feel a bit sleepy, and I yawned.
"Mmmmm... Doctor... Do you always carry girls around? Hey..." I was struck with a sudden thought, "Do you like peanut butter? Cuz I could do with come damn good sexy peanut butter right now..." The Doctor chuckled, shaking his head at me, carrying me into the room. The sun was still shining outside, but I stifled another huge yawn. "Peanut butter is good..." I could feel myself becoming more and more relaxed, like I was becoming boneless, "it's sexy good with honey, why do I keep saying that word? Sexy..." The Doctor laid me down on my bed, arranging the pillows around me.
"Sleep it off, Hero," he murmured, gently stroking my hair off my forehead, "You poor silly thing, everything happens to you, doesn't it?" He smiled kindly, continuing to stroke my hair. I was having trouble keeping my eyes open, but I still had so much to tell him.
"Peanut butter... butter and honey..." I mumbled, blinking slowly. I liked how his hand felt on my forehead, it was soothing, and it didn't effect me as strongly as it would have a few minutes before, "Wanna... wanna be my honey? Doctorrrrr?" I murmured, then let my eyes close properly.
The Doctor bent closer over me, I could sense his nearness. "Sleep, Hero," he murmured softly, and I felt him press a gentle kiss to my forehead. I sighed, snuggling deeper into my pillows. "I'll be whatever you need me to be," the Doctor whispered, and then I slipped off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
"Damn... my head..." I sat up slowly, a bit surprised to find myself in bed even though I vaguely remembered being set into it. My head was throbbing painfully and I felt a bit groggy. "What... Doctor?"
"Apparently," said the Doctor's voice on the other side of the room, "the paint on your arm was taken from a very potent plant, which has similar properties to Benzodiazepine in terms of its ability to relax the individual who is affected and to... relax the mental faculties as well."
I opened my eyes, staring at him. "You mean to tell me... that... the stupid flower on my arm was like a... a date rape drug? What the hell!" I got up from my bed carefully, feeling completely stupid that I'd let something like that be applied to my body. A smart part of my brain was telling me that it was what I'd paid for, that the alien artist was only doing what we'd asked, but I still felt angry. I rounded on the Doctor. "You talked me into this! I... I..." My mind was suddenly flooded with crystal-clear memories of the things I'd done while under the flower's influence... What I'd said... "Oh god..."
Staring in horror at the Doctor, I quickly added, "I said some... pretty stupid things..."
"You were not in your right mind, Hero," the Doctor said soothingly, patting my arm, "I've had the same thing happen to me. Well, strictly speaking it wasn't the same thing, well, sort of, but there was this Antonilian wine..."
"Please..." I muttered, rubbing my head, "please just forget everything I said..."
"Alright," he replied, smiling faintly, "but you know... sometimes it takes a little intervention to get the truth to come out." He winked at me, then walked towards the door of the hotel room. "Dinner's in an hour, just so you know, I'll leave you to yourself..."
I continued to gape at his retreating back as what he'd said sunk in. Then I remembered his gentle kiss on my forehead just as I was falling asleep, his words, "I'll be whatever you need me to be" … I could feel myself blush.
Get a grip, Hero, nothing's happened.
I walked to the bathroom, taking off my clothes and stepping into the large shower. I sighed as the hot water hit me and began to sooth my headache somewhat. Somehow I couldn't deny that the Doctor was hinting around at something, and I felt myself smile in spite of my aching head as I replayed his little smile and wink before he'd left the room.
Why am I such a hopeless romantic?
Why indeed ;)
