He was retreating, and he knew it. Ambling, really, but everything he did seemed a bit like ambling, it was these legs. He was very fond of these legs. Right, retreat. Rather like running. He didn't do that often from pretty blonde girls. Well. . . alright, there was some precedence there, but that didn't count.
He bounded the length of the medical centre, gathering supplies without looking at her. "Ah. I said that, didn't I?"
"Yep." She popped her Ps! Oh, that was just amusing. It was like looking in a mirror. A slightly outdated mirror. No wait, that didn't work. Like looking at old photographs, and wondering what you'd been on about when you thought something was fashionable. Sticks of celery and question mark umbrellas and that blasted scarf that had to weigh forty pounds, but outdated mannerisms instead. At least she didn't sound like his first form. He didn't think he could handle someone that moody around, a sad commentary since that was him. "You did say that."
"I say a lot of things. Particularly when in extreme situations. Particularly in that form. I was rude." Spinning on his heel, antiseptic in hand, he paused, taking in her folded arms and planted feet he froze and resumed the 'is it going to bite' expression. "Rather militant posture, isn't it?"
"No, it's a rather female pose. Amy was doing it, as well. It traditionally, from what I've observed, is the look of someone waiting expectantly." She grinned again-and no, it was very distinctly her own grin not something she'd picked up, he remembered that from the moment of 'Hello, Dad' and loading a gun-and took a seat on the edge of a gurney, relaxing her pose.
Waving a hand and dumping his supplies into a tray as he resumed motion again, the Doctor made a face. "It's the outfit, then, makes everything look militaristic. On Amy that posture just makes her look cross. Of course, a lot of things make Amy look cross. I think Amy makes Amy look cross." Holding up a finger to his lips and looking at his daughter conspiratorially, the Doctor spun full circle and laid his ear against the closed door, shifting to center himself on something unseen, before banging his fist sharply against the door with a resounding hollow thunk, raising his voice to be heard over the sudden protestation from the hall.
"Eavesdropping, Pond!" Turning again, he included her in his cleverness. "Hah. She's fun. Easy mark, but fun. Known her for ages, since she was a little girl. Well, a year. Well, both. Sort of. Long story. Mostly harmless, though, don't let her scare you off. Knew she wouldn't be able to resist trying to figure out what we were talking about, though. What were we talking about? Right. Your nose."
Before she could protest that they'd ever been discussing anything else, he unceremoniously popped a lollipop into her mouth, hooked a rolling stool over with his foot, and settled onto it as if it were an lounge chair as he began dabbing at her nose. "Oh, don't glare. Lollis are completely traditional in healthcare, I've seen it. I know what we were talking about, but I assumed it would be more polite than telling you to shut up, and I'm attempting to build myself up as politer than when last we met. The long and short of it, so I never have to say it again, is that yes sometimes I am a hypocrite, and you knew that already and pointed it out on Messaline. You've probably gotten a lot of interesting accounts as to my character, if you've been reading up on me, and I'm going to ask you to do something for me. Can you do something for me?"
Shifting the lollipop from one side of her mouth to the other, Jenny raised an eyebrow, and simply nodded in response, slowly and solemnly enough to match his sudden shift in tone, and he dropped the sonic screwdriver from its slow passes over her nose to look her in the eyes.
"Trust me. Just. . . trust me." It was a big request, he knew, and he was giving nothing in return. "We're going to have years to discuss these things. Possibly lifetimes, but I can't promise that because I haven't tested it. But I need you to trust me and forget whatever it is you've read for now."
Taking the lolli by the stick, Jenny leaned back, taking her face away from his dabbed medicines and ministrations and fixing a level stare on him, serious and measuring, a look of threat assessment and scrutinizing character study. It would have been disconcerting, were he not used to being the one giving that sort of look. As it was, he had centuries more practice at it. And she was gesturing with candy, which would have undermined it anyway. Rookie mistake, she wasn't to the level of experience where she could do ridiculous things without looking ridiculous. "Before I answer that. . . you said something else, there, on Messaline. You said a lot of things on Messaline, but one that's stuck out given everything I've read."
"Apart from the bit about being an echo?"
Her expression didn't shift, not a smile or a break in the stare. "Yes, apart from that bit. Everything you said, everything you did, you taught me that I could make choices of my own. That I was a person, truly capable of independent thought, and that I didn't have to kill simply because I was born knowing how to. You didn't just give the genetic material to produce me, you gave me direction. To strive to be more, to be what I should be. I got out there, helping people and travelling and running, and I read up about you." She didn't seem to need to draw breath to build up steam. He knew where this was going, now, though. Should have seen it immediately. "I went through old Earth history texts on Starship UK. I dug into the archives of Biblios and Kar-Charatt. Went to see the carvings on Crafe Tec Heydra, the museums of Paradost. . ."
". . . And then I remember you, putting yourself in General Cobb's face and telling him to look up genocide in the dictionary."
Yes. He knew where this went. Head bowed, he ran the flat of his palm down his face, closing his eyes. "And that he'd see my picture with a caption that read 'over my dead body.' Jenny, it's . . ."
Shaking her head, ponytail bobbing with the motion, Jenny tossed the lollipop towards the bin and leaned forward again, elbows braced on her knees and voice steady as she interrupted. "No. It's my turn now, father, I let you speak first. I'm not asking you to explain everything to me. And I'm not saying that I won't trust you, or come with you. I knew you for a day and you changed me. From what Donna said, it's what you do for people. You make them want to change. While I was travelling, I decided that you were right about what you said there, no matter what I found out. So I'll trust you, yes. But don't ask me to forget."
Sliding off of the gurney without giving him time to answer, Jenny laid a finger along the side of her nose experimentally, and nodded in satisfaction. "Much better already. You're right. Superior genetics, and good medicine that stuff. Could have used that a time or two back. Can I nick something for my hands? Rusty metal everywhere. Not sure what I cut myself on. You were going to show me to my room, right? I reek of petrol, how did I miss that? Oh! Do the rooms on the TARDIS have baths? Real, proper baths? Never really spent long on any one planet, always travelling, and baths are a waste of water in a ship. Lots of showers, though. Recycled water or that nasty powder that stings every time. Never had a bath before, think I'd like it."
Stopping at the door, Jenny turned again and grinned. There was no malice, or condemnation, and it wasn't put on. She'd simply moved on from bulldozing him conversationally, something that never ever happened except when it did, to the same joy she'd shown when he first told her she could stay.
He didn't understand women.
They still needed to have a chat. Several, in fact. He also likely needed to lay out some sort of ground rules-not that he'd ever had a travelling companion who stuck to them. But for the time being, the uncomfortable conversation was diffused, and he was never one to miss out on an opportunity to escape uncomfortable conversation, even if it was only a delay. Gathering supplies, he sent out a thought to the TARDIS, and watched her head cock to the side as he did, a look of faint confusion crossing her features.
"Two rights down the hall, then the third door on the left will be yours then -the TARDIS will show you to the wardrobe once you're done, and you're welcome to whatever you find there. Tea in the kitchen when you're ready."
"How'll I find the kitchen, then?" She seemed excited by the prospect of exploring on her own, so he was almost sad to give it away.
"Oh, something tells me it won't be hard for you."
She could probably just listen for Amy. Her voice did carry a bit. . .