7*BEDROOM*7

"Nobody has been in here since you left," Mumma said as she opened the door to the room Charley had once called her own. "We couldn't bring ourselves to clear it out. If you'd prefer, there is a second guest room that we could have made up instead. I'm certain would be less dusty."

"This is fine, Mumma," Charley said with a tight smile. But even as she said the words, she wasn't sure why she was trying to reassure her mother that she wanted to stay in this room. Not that it was an unpleasant room, with its large, overstuffed bed and canopy, the enormous wooden wardrobe, the bay window with the alcove that she had hidden herself in for countless hours with her nose in a book. But it was so full of memories...

"I had Sasha tidy up a bit, so the dust shouldn't be unbearable." Mumma was flustered with the quick clean up, her scrutinizing gaze moving over everything that might not be up to par. "I know she washed the linens and the bed curtains as well, but I'm fairly certain the windows haven't been cleaned."

Charley smiled to herself. If only her mother knew the conditions she had lived in - off and on - for the past ten years of her life. No matter how dusty and dirty this room was, it would never compare to the filth of the Grybon brothels, where she'd sought shelter from prying eyes and threatening glances.

"Mumma, it's fine. We've stayed in much worse, I promise you."

For just a moment, Mumma looked entirely perplexed.

"You've already done so much for us already," the Doctor interrupted, noticing the look on her face. "I think we can handle dirty windows."

"Yes," Charley agreed. "Most certainly."

Mumma looked at her for a moment, then smiled softly, reaching up to cup her face in both hands with a heartfelt sigh. "My little girl. Married and grown up with a daughter of her own."

Startled by the display of sentimentality, Charley didn't know what to say. Her mother had always been so proper, so disapproving - at least on the outside - of everything Charley had stood for. It was strange to see her, face to face, displaying such affection. But just as quickly as the softness had passed into her eyes, it faded. She composed herself with a deep breath, and cast a polite smile to the Doctor.

"I bid you both good night. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call."

"Good night, Mumma," Charley answered with a polite smile.

"Yes, good night."

Charley watched silently, her posture as relaxed as she could manage, as her mother exited the room and softly closed the doors behind her. Then, finally, she allowed herself to heave a sigh, and pushed her hand back through her hair, fidgeting nervously with the ends. Her fingers stayed busy, twisting and pulling, as she looked around the room. It was just one more place she never in a million years thought she'd ever be again.

She took a few steps forward and ran her hand lightly over the nearby desk, absently flipping through the pages of a long-forgotten book. Finally, she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, turning to face the Doctor.

"Well, what do you think?"

He smiled knowingly. "It's a lot more elegant than the room I grew up in." He walked to the window and peered out through the "dirty" glass at the dark sky and all its stars. "A lot more spacious, too."

"Hmm." She cast about again. Spacious though it seemed, she remembered full well how stifled and cramped she'd felt here. Her thoughts wandered through her childhood, around her sisters, and then to dinner.

"I wonder what all that was about with Sissy," she muttered. "I do hope she's alright."

"Seemed like there was a bit of a falling out over her new friends." The Doctor stepped back from the window and glanced at Charley briefly before wandering to the bookshelf. "1935, the rise of Mussolini and Hitler... The Nazi party had sympathizers all over the continent. If I had to guess..."

Charley's eyes grew wide. He let the implication hang heavy in the air as he pulled one of the books down and carefully brushed the dust off of the cover before opening it and flipping through the pages.

"Surely you're not suggesting that Cecelia is a Nazi sympathizer!"

The Doctor shrugged, not willing to argue a point that was mere speculation on his part. Especially when he didn't even know the woman in question.

"She would never do something so... so..." She was at a loss for words. Nothing in her immediate vocabulary seemed to describe just how wrong even the idea of her sister being that type of person was.

"Remember, Charley, it doesn't mean the same thing to her that it might mean to you." He glanced up briefly. "You know how the story ends. But in 1935, the concept of the Holocaust would have been so much paranoia."

"Still..." Charley frowned deeply.

Setting the book back on the shelf, the Doctor crossed to her and slid fluidly behind her, arms encircling her waist. She sighed as she instinctively leaned back into him, absently covering his arms with her own. She tilted her head into his.

"Although, now that I think about it, she did always seem to have quite the different outlook on the world. I had just assumed it was the follies of youth at the time."

"Well, if that is the way she chose, perhaps she'll change her mind."

"Perhaps..."

He nudged her hair out of the way before setting a light, closed kiss on her neck, just above the high collar of her dress. Moving his hands to her waist, he tipped his head to pull the lobe of her ear gently between his teeth.

"But we Pollard women are stubborn, you know that better than most. Once we get an idea in our head, we tend to stick to it, even if it is completely assinine."

"Hmm."

Charley hugged herself a bit as she continued contemplating the possibility of her sister being a Nazi. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Belatedly, she realized the Doctor was still talking, and she hadn't a clue what it was he'd said.

"Hmm? I'm sorry, Doctor. I was in my own little world there. Did you say something?"

He chuckled softly, and moved his hands closer together at her back, running his thumbs slowly up either side of her spine, and either side of the row of buttons. "I said..." He nudged at the soft pressure point behind her ear, toying with the buttons at her neckline until he flicked the top few open. "I think it's time to get you out of these clothes."

"Oh." She frowned. "Yes, I suppose so. I'd forgotten just how cumbersome they are."

"I haven't."

"Hmm."

Absently, she reached behind her to start undoing buttons, surprised to find a few were already undone. She didn't give it much thought. Twisting her arm like a skilled contortionist, she continued with the line of buttons, taking a few steps away as her mind wandered further down the path of where her sister might be and why.

"I wonder where she is, then," she muttered to herself. "I do hope she's not in Berlin. She'll get herself killed!"

She shrugged the dress off of her shoulders to reveal the princess petticoat underneath. Then, stepping out of the dress as it fell, she began working on the ties of the first of several skirts. She was vaguely aware of the Doctor's eyes on her as she removed one, let it fall, and started on the other. Sighing to herself, she wondered just what had possessed her to wear so much clothing! Once, a very long time ago, she had considered this normal.

She stopped, surprised to find herself in front of the window. Frowning, she looked about her and the trail of skirts she'd left. She really shouldn't leave them lying about in a rumpled mess. Then she looked down and found she was down to her silk chemise and last petticoat. Normally, she would still have tap pants underneath that, but she remembered vividly where those were...

Suddenly noticing that the Doctor had gone silent, she turned to see him leaning on the desk, fully dressed and watching her with casual amusement. She raised a brow. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

Suddenly very aware of how little she was wearing, she hugged herself as she turned toward him. She nodded toward her clothing. "Were you watching me the whole time I was doing... that?"

He smiled knowingly. "You didn't seem to mind."

"I didn't know!"

"Well, I wasn't exactly trying to hide it."

His smile grew as he pushed away from the desk and walked closer to her, trailing a hand from her elbow up to her shoulder as he slid behind her again, planting soft kisses on her jaw line once again. It was easier without the dress in the way. She hugged herself tighter.

"Doctor, what are you doing?"

"Kissing you," he whispered back. His hands had been at his sides, but they gravitated now to her waist.

"Here? Now?" She shifted anxiously. "My parents are just down the hall!"

"What difference does that make?"

"Quite a lot of difference, thank you!"

His warm kisses traveled up to her ear again, and he nuzzled her, breathing in deeply.

She sighed. "Doctor, they'll hear us."

"Well, you'll just have to make certain that they don't," he answered, not at all deterred.

She bit her lip, searching for a protest but finding nothing that she thought he might actually heed. He slid his hands forward, down along the crease of her thigh on either side, and she could feel his smile against her neck as he continued in a low whisper. "We've been playing this game all day long. They've never been far away."

"No," she agreed. "But at least there's some distance between the dining room and the study."

"And the closet?"

"Yes, the closet was also a fair distance from the dining room."

"And yet anyone could've walked through that hallway. You knew that."

"Doctor, this is different."

"Why?"

She hesitated. "Because it was my bedroom as a little girl!"

One hand moved down, pressing through the skirt at the apex of her thighs. "Well, close your eyes and you can pretend that it's the Tardis. Better yet..." Very suddenly, his wandering hands withdrew, and an instant later, the silk fabric of his tie slid across her forehead, then down over her eyes. Her breath caught as she suddenly became tremendously more aware of the sound and warmth of his breath in her ear. "I'll close them for you."

She swallowed hard, and raised her hands to tentatively feel the fabric across her eyes. "I...I don't think a blindfold is necessary," she stammered. "It is plenty dark in here."

"Of course it's not necessary, Charley. That's what makes it fun."

"Well, yes." She laughed tightly, nervously. His hands were roaming again, to her shoulders where he massaged firmly for a moment, as if willing her to relax. "I'm just concerned about being able to see where I'm going, is all. I'd really rather not bump into anything."

"I won't let you bump into anything. Besides..." He moved his hands to her waist and untied the last of her skirts, letting it fall in a heap at her feet. She sucked in a breath as cool air hit bare skin, making her muscles tighten. "I don't want you to walk anywhere."

She laughed quietly, relaxing under his touch as he smoothed his hands over her hips, then trailed his fingertips feather lightly up her arms, all the way to her shoulders. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I quite like you right here."

He pulled the straps of her undershirt down, exposing her breasts to the cool air and to his eyes. But he didn't take it off. He left the straps at her elbows as he neatly folded her arms across her stomach beneath his own embrace. Kissing her jaw, he pressed in until her head tipped to the side, then hummed his approval as he reached up and brushed her hair back, away from her face and the blindfold that so neatly covered her eyes.

"And I want you to stay just like this," he whispered softly.

Startled by the suggestion, she clenched her arms a bit tighter. "What? Why?"

He set one last kiss on the side of her neck before he withdrew the warmth of his body from behind her. "Because I want to look at you."

"I... Why?"

She stood still, waiting for him to answer, head tilted, arms folded, confused, and more than a little bit chilly. She frowned and turned her head slightly in the direction where she thought he was. "Doctor?"

Her ears strained, trying to hear him: his breath, the rustle of his coat, a creak of a floorboard from him taking a step. Nothing. It was as if he'd disappeared.

"Doctor, where are you?"

As she tried to turn, firm hands grasped her shoulders, holding her in place, and she gasped in startled surprise at how close he was. "Oh!"

"Shh..."

As his hands left her once more, she hugged herself slightly, ever more aware of where they were and her state of undress. But now, she was also intrigued. What was he up to?

"Stay still, Charley," he whispered. She heard his breath as he kissed below her ear, then stepped away. "Stay very, very still."

Then there was nothing.

Left standing in the center of a chilled room, naked from the waist down, chest bare, and with very little around her midsection, she did well for the first few minutes. She was incredibly aware of her nakedness, of his eyes on her in the silence. What was he doing? Surely he wasn't simply looking at her. There had to be a reason for this. Where was he? How long did he want her to stay like this?

It felt like she'd been standing there for hours before, finally, the combination of the cold, her nakedness, and simply not knowing where he was in relation to her made it impossible for her to stand so still. Senses heightened by her lack of sight, she felt every brush of cool air along the floor, smelled the dust and the flowers and the clean bed sheets, heard the wind rustling the trees outside. But there was no indication that the Doctor was even in the room until, suddenly, he spoke.

"You look cold."

She raised a brow, tilting her head to orient on his voice. "Well, someone has left me rather naked in the middle of a drafty room."

He chuckled softly, and she heard a few soft steps from somewhere near the bed. The rustle of fabric, a tiny scrape of the wooden desk chair on the wood floor. Finally, she caught the scent of him as he approached, and felt the warmth of his body as he stepped up behind her again, embracing her tightly with both arms and pulling her naked back to his warmth. He'd removed his jacket, and she could feel his body heat through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Is that better?" he whispered.

She sighed and leaned into him. "Much." She turned her head toward him, pouting slightly. "Though my legs have gotten quite tired from standing here."

"Hmm." He turned her carefully toward him and hugged her tight again, rubbing his hands over her back as he kissed her lips. "Hold on to me."

He waited just a moment for her to comply before he bent down, swept an arm behind her knees, and lifted her. "Oh!" She tightened her grip on him. "Doctor, put me down; we're going to fall!"

It was only a few steps to the bed. Once there, he set her back on her feet before sitting down and pulling her onto his lap. She shook her head in disbelief. "I'm far too big for that, Doctor."

"That's your opinion. You're almost a foot shorter than I am."

"And probably just as heavy."

"And twice as self-conscious."

Her face flushed. "Not that self conscious," she said defensively. "You did just have me stand naked in the middle of a room while you ogled me for god-knows-how-long. I just don't want you to get hurt."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, his hand came to rest on her thigh, smoothing slowly up and then back down to her knee. It was a soothing touch rather than a sensual one. "Tell me something, Charley."

"Hmm?"

"Today, in the study... You weren't self conscious then..."

She smiled at the memory, and shifted a bit. "I think I was too excited to be self-conscious."

He hesitated for a long moment, his hand still stroking along the top of her leg. Finally, she heard him draw in a breath. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she answered softly, simply.

"If I had, would you have told me to stop?"

"You didn't."

His hand stopped stroking, coming to rest by her knee as he tipped his head toward her and kissed the lower edge of her blindfold. "I've never done anything like that before," he whispered.

"Me neither."

He was quiet again, his breath warm on her lips as he lingered just a few centimeters away. "Sometimes I think," he finally whispered, hesitating on his words, "that I'm becoming more and more like you with every day that we're together."

She laughed. "Like me? You're usually the one who instigates these... experiments."

"Exactly. That's what I mean."

"How is that like me?"

"Not you, specifically." He tipped his head, nuzzling her gently. "Being so aroused by something so... not-Gallifreyan... It's very..."

"Human?" she offered when he didn't finish.

He paused again. "I was going to say frightening."

Startled, she frowned. "Why frightening?"

"Because it's madness." He drew her earlobe between his teeth, pulling gently before he continued in a soft, breathy whisper. "Everything I felt in that moment... That I would do anything, anything at all, to give you pleasure..."

She was quiet for a moment, brow still furrowed. Hesitantly, she reached up a hand to stroke his hair. As he pulled back from her ear, she touched his lips lightly, tracing their outline with her thumb. "Did you enjoy it?" she whispered.

He kissed her fingers gently, then nuzzled against her hand. "I'm afraid to say yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to think of where that madness leads." He covered her hand with his. "And I don't want to think that I enjoyed hurting you."

Shifting to ensure her balance, she reached up with her free hand to pull the blindfold off of her eyes. Her gaze immediately locked on his, and she read the worry there even more clearly than it was written in his tone. With a soft, almost mothering sigh, she shook her head and dropped her forehead against his.

"You didn't hurt me," she said again, staring him straight in the eye.

"I know. I believe you."

"Then what's wrong with enjoying it?"

He hesitated a long moment, then sighed, moving a hand into her hair and stroking it back gently. Finally, he lowered his eyes and spoke in a quiet whisper, barely audible. "I had a friend once. A long time ago. He was Gallifreyan. And he was mad. He liked pain, humiliation - he liked to cause it. The things he would do to women - the things they wanted him to do... It was never about sex; that would've disgusted him. It was certainly never about love. It was just... wrong. And I swore I would never be like that."

She stared at him in confusion, brow furrowed as she shook her head. "If that's what you were thinking, why did you do it?"

"It wasn't what I was thinking," he answered quickly. "That's why it scares me, Charley."

"If it wasn't what you were thinking then, what changed? Because it was nothing like that between the two of us."

He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out, and he closed it again, lowering his head and shaking it slightly. With a soft smile, she set her hands on either side of his face and tipped it up again, staring into his eyes for a moment before she leaned in and kissed him. He hesitated at first, but slowly, he responded, relaxing into her gentle stroking through his hair and the softness of her lips on his.

As she finally, slowly pulled away, she lingered close, tasting his breath and the warmth of his closeness. "Don't bring that man into our bedroom," she pleaded softly. "What you did to me - what you do to me - is beautiful. And you know it."

He smiled tightly. "It also goes against everything in my nature as a Time Lord."

"Then maybe you are becoming more and more human by the day." She smiled back, and traced his lips again. "And maybe that's not a bad thing."