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Chapter 7The Doctor rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair, ignoring the exhaustion that seemed to be slowly seeping into his bones. The school year was nearly done but it meant another week of intensive paper and test grading for him. It didn't help in the least that Mrs. Lambert, the chemistry teacher at the school he was teaching at, had a family emergency and resigned from her position. With only two months left in the school year, it was decided that the remaining science teachers – meaning him and Mr. Pope – would take up her classes as well as their own.
"Happy-slappy hoodies with ASBOs and ringtones," the Doctor complained mostly to himself as he stood up and stretched. What he wouldn't do for a decent cup of Zaphodian tea. The leaves themselves took years to cultivate and, thus, the tea was highly valued and extremely expensive. But, it was also well known for its amazing healing properties. Nothing rejuvenated the mind and body quite like the rare delicacy of that tea.
"Think I still have some in the kitchen," he muttered to himself, turning his head towards the TARDIS, which sat on the other side of the main room of the guest cottage he called home. Wiping his face to help his blood to circulate where it was most needed, namely his brain, he went into the TARDIS and down her halls into the kitchen. It took several minutes for him to find the much sought after herbal remedy before he returned to the living room of the guest cottage.
While he was away, the ringing of a phone hidden in his overcoat filled the room before suddenly going silent.
"There we are," he told himself as he walked through the house and into its kitchen. "Just what the Doctor ordered." He smiled to himself as he prepared the tea and then, as it brewed, returned to the work at hand. Twenty more papers to grade and then he would be finished for the evening. There was still the matter of working some more on the TARDIS. He still couldn't believe how the time seemed to drag. Two years, one month, fifteen days. That's how long it had been since the TARDIS had crash-landed on Grace Holloway's front lawn. And the beginning of his third year trapped on Earth was proving to be just as uneventful as the last two years.
The Doctor had become engrossed in grading the latest paper, a particularly interesting theorem from his star pupil, and hadn't heard the door to the guest cottage open. Nor did he notice Grace going into the kitchen and finishing preparing the tea he had started brewing. What he did notice was the mug suddenly blocking his vision. He looked up with surprise.
"Sorry," Grace told him, waiting for him to accept the mug. "I said hi but you were a little preoccupied. Didn't want you to burn your tea."
"Thank you," the Doctor murmured, taking the mug from her hand. He sipped at the hot brew and exhaled with contentment. "Exactly what I needed," he commented, gaining a smile from his dear friend and landlady.
"Smells good," she told him, pulling up a chair and sitting beside him. "Not sure I've ever smelled anything like it."
"Zaphodian tea," the Doctor told her. "Very rare, very expensive, and guaranteed to work miracles." He took another sip. "Like getting a shot of adrenaline but without the negative side effects." He gave her a look. "Well, for most creatures in the universe. Wouldn't suggest you having any. Could be dangerous. The last human I saw drink this stuff went a little… hyperactive."
Grace laughed slightly. "Sometimes I swear you're just making all this stuff up just to keep me out of your kitchen."
The Doctor smiled at her. "Go ahead then. Try some. But don't say I didn't warn you. I'd hate to have to strap you down in the TARDIS' medbay."
"I think I'll believe you this time," she countered before looking at the pile on the desk before them. "Final papers?"
The Doctor nodded. "It's amazing how some of these children don't understand the basics of chemistry while others show so much intelligence that it makes me wonder what they are doing in my beginner's class when they should be in two or three class grades above their peers." He sighed slightly. "The mysteries of the human mind. Now if the really talented ones would stop using their creativity for practical jokes…"
Grace chuckled. "As I recall, you told me that you were a bit of a practical joker when you were at the Academy."
"I was bored!"
"Well, maybe they are bored too."
The Doctor shrugged slightly at her words. "Well, regardless, I still have twenty papers to grade this weekend and I'd rather get them done tonight, especially if we are going to the opera tomorrow night."
"Oh, we are most definitely going," she told him firmly. "Do you know how long it has been since I saw a good opera?"
"One year, two months, four days," the Doctor supplied, giving her a smile. "And it was with that fellow Bruce." He raised an eyebrow. "What is it with you and men whose names start with the letter B? Bruce, Brian, Benjamin…"
Grace rolled her eyes. "Don't go lecturing me about who I date, Doctor. You're my tenant, not my father."
"I'm just saying that you don't seem to have the best of luck when it comes to men whose first initial is the first consonant of the English alphabet," he pointed out.
"Well, that was a year ago," she countered. "Besides, it wouldn't have worked out with him. He sneaked out in the middle of it to go check on the baseball game."
The Doctor turned to her. "Well, I can assure you that I will not be leaving the opera for any reason other than the most dire emergency. Besides, I love Puccini. He brought us together." His grin was almost infectious.
Grace shook her head slightly. "Not exactly the best way to meet someone, I'd say. I mean I did kill you after all." She returned his grin. Since the Doctor had come back in her life that fateful day two years before, the incident in the hospital in San Francisco had turned into a private joke between them. The Doctor just continued to grin before turning to work on the papers in front of him.
Grace sat beside him in silence for a long moment, thinking about the man in front of her. There was so little that she knew about him. The Doctor really didn't talk much about himself, only when the circumstances brought about the conversation. He'd only brought up the Time War when Grace had suggested that he might be able to get help in repairing the TARDIS by contacting his own people. Literally the only time he had volunteered information about himself was last year when he showed her the Cloister Room. She still was trying to understand his motivations concerning that. And he had mentioned someone named Rose every once in a while, almost with a kind of reverence. The way he had said the name, Grace knew that whoever this Rose was, she was someone extraordinarily special to him. She could even dare conclude that he had been in love with her. What happened to her, she still didn't know.
What she did know was that she wanted to learn everything about the Doctor, more than his almost obsessive love of bananas and other miscellaneous foodstuff. And there was only one way that she knew of to get the information she wanted. Whether he would give her that information was another issue.
"Doctor," she started, gaining his attention. Seeing his raised eyebrows, she continued. "You never told me your name."
The Doctor frowned at her slightly. "I'm the Doctor," he said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
Grace sighed slightly, shaking her head. "Yes. I know. But surely you have a name. I mean a real name, not a title. I mean, your parents didn't name you Doctor after you were born, did they?"
He turned his head towards the papers in front of him, trying to ignore Grace's question. He should have known the issue would have risen, especially with Grace. For some reason, the answer of 'because I said so' just never worked on her.
"No, they didn't," he admitted. "I had a different name when I was a child."
"What was it?" she asked gently.
He frowned at her. "Does it really matter? I've been going by the Doctor for the past eleven hundred years. I see no reason to bring up a name I haven't gone by for a millennium." He looked into her eyes and saw the curiosity embedded there. Shaking his head, he returned his focus to the papers. "My name's the Doctor. That's all you need to know."
"Is that what you told Rose when she asked you?" Grace questioned.
"She didn't press the issue," he replied. He frowned slightly, clearly involved in grading the papers. "It's been good enough for every person I've ever traveled with."
"Well, it's not good enough for me," she countered with a huff. "I don't see what the big deal is. I mean, when I was a little girl everyone called me Dee. Doesn't bother me."
The Doctor rolled his eyes. It was clear that he wasn't going to be able to finish grading the papers until after this conversation was over. "The name I was born with doesn't bother me, Grace. It just isn't my name anymore."
"Why not?"
"Why isn't your name Dee any more?" he pointed out to her.
"It is Dee," she told him plainly. "Grace Dee Holloway. I just decided not to go by my middle name, as was tradition. What about you? Why the Doctor?"
The Doctor sighed loudly, leaning back in his chair. "It's just the name I chose. Why do you have to press the issue?"
"Why do you have to try to bury it?"
"I'm not burying it," he growled under his breath.
"Certainly sounds like you are to me."
Closing his eyes, the Doctor rubbed his face before giving Grace an annoyed look. "You just aren't going to give up on this, are you?" Seeing her raised eyebrows, indicating that she was waiting for an answer she would accept, he shook his head. "We all have secrets, Grace. And I would appreciate if you would allow me to have mine. I have my reasons for hiding my birth name from the universe."
"What reasons?" Grace questioned, her voice softening when she saw the look in his eyes. It was plain that the reasons were close to his hearts. She watched as he turned his head and gave her a hard glare, telling her that she had pushed too far on the issue, silencing her immediately on it. "I'm sorry," she told him softly. "I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes."
"That is an underestimation, Dr. Holloway," the Doctor told her, his glare still firmly in place. Seeing the genuine contrition on her face, however, his own eyes softened. "Apology accepted." He attempted to return to grading the papers but found that he couldn't properly focus on them. Sighing he leaned back. "I think I need a break from this." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the fob watch Grace had given him, opening it to look at the time. "It's not even seven o'clock. So, how about dinner? Steak and chips? Mandarin? If the TARDIS were working properly we could go to Lenev Three. Best pseudo-Chinese food in the universe."
Grace stood, chuckling slightly at his words. Funny how the Doctor could change the mood of the whole room just with a couple of words and a smile. "Chinese sounds good to me. I'll just make the order."
The Doctor watched as Grace went back to the main house before he put away the papers he had been grading. The rest would just have to wait until tomorrow morning, though that meant a very busy day for him with the opera being that night. At least it was the weekend. So what if he had to stay up one of those nights finishing the grading and preparations for Monday's classes. It wouldn't be the first time he had done it.
Standing, he made his way to the main house and, going into the living room, slumped into the couch with comfortable ease. Delivery was always served and eaten in the main house, mostly out of convenience. The Doctor smiled slightly as he heard Grace finish the order, asking for extra hot sauce to go with it. He then, a couple of minutes later, felt her slump onto the couch beside him, handing him a bottle. He looked at it with slight questioning before opening the cold tea and taking a drink.
"I left that Zaphodian tea sitting on my desk," he commented. "It's cold now. It can be heated up later. Won't taste the same, though." He looked at the bottled tea in his hand and shrugged slightly before continuing to drink it. "Not the best in the world," he commented.
"Well, I like it," Grace countered with a grin. It had almost become a tradition in the Holloway house for the Doctor to make some kind of comment about how bottled tea wasn't the best in the world before accepting it and drinking it amicably. Grace knew he actually liked the stuff.
The two fell into an amicable silence as they enjoyed their beverage, waiting for their dinner to arrive at the door. It didn't take long, however, for the silence to be broken, this time with the Doctor's voice.
"It's self-preservation."
Grace frowned slightly, looking at him with questioning.
"Hiding my name. It's self-preservation," the Doctor clarified. "There was a tradition on Gallifrey to name the second child after their mother's father. I was the second child born to my parents. I had no problem going by my given name. I was even a little proud of how unusual it was. And then Councilor Morbius came to power. He was absolutely convinced of the genetic superiority of the Gallifreyan race and of the Time Lords. He also advocated the Time Lords using their great power to conquer the universe rather than watch over it. The High Council rejected his ideas so he went and created an army of his own. There were a few Time Lords who shared his beliefs and followed him. There were a few civilians as well. The rest of his army, though, consisted of mercenaries who wanted the secrets of time travel and immortality." He paused, a haunted look in his eyes as he thought about that time.
"Chaos reigned on Gallifrey for a short time as Morbius' followers took to the streets and hunted down anyone who wasn't a pure-blood Gallifreyan. Not that there were very many cross-breeds or non-Gallifreyans." He paused, deep sadness etched on his face. "They murdered my mother in her home; my father had died about twenty years before – an accident. My brother fled into the Wastelands to avoid the slaughter that the seemed to move like a tidal wave throughout Gallifrey.
"My son brought Susan to me, begged us to get out of the city as quickly as possible. We slipped into the shipyards, borrowed a TARDIS, and ran. He joined the ranks of Time Lords fighting against Morbius. The High Council finally defeated Morbius and his treacherous army, executing every last one of them whom they could find. There were still a few out there, which meant to protect my granddaughter and myself I had to keep my heritage buried so that Morbius' followers would never find us. I returned home very briefly after Morbius was executed and took my mother's garden into my custody. But by then, I'd already broken a few Laws of Time and the High Council was cracking down hard on offenders, determined not to have another Morbius in their midst. So I ran again and didn't stop running, even after the Time Lords lifted my exile."
Grace was silent for a long moment as she thought about what the Doctor had told her. She felt horrible for pressing him for answers but, at the same time, was glad to know a little more about the man she called her best friend, the man she knew she loved. She slowly took a breath and looked up at his face, seeing the glaze that covered his eyes whenever he dealt with sad memories.
"What happened to your brother, your son… your granddaughter?" she asked gently, not wanting to hurt him any further than she obviously had but also wanting to know the rest of the story.
The Doctor took a deep breath and exhaled. "I don't know exactly what happened to Susan. She was still just a civilian when we left Gallifrey, hadn't gone through the Endowment Ceremony that would have made her a Time Lord. I left her in the 22nd century to marry. The others… my brother and son… died in the Time War. For all I know, Susan could have died in the Time War as well." He closed his eyes and slumped further into the couch. "I could have killed her myself when I destroyed Gallifrey." He sniffed slightly, burying the memories quickly, not wanting to dwell on the painful past. "Point is… I'm the Doctor. That's the only name I will go by other than some human alias."
"Like Mr. John Smith of London," Grace stated with a slight smile.
"Just so," the Doctor agreed. Even as he spoke, the doorbell rang. He glancing over his shoulder as he stood up, he commented on how fast the delivery was before going to answer the door. An exchange of food for money later and the Doctor carried the dinner into the kitchen before ripping open the bag and pulling out container after container.
"Hungry?" Grace commented with a laugh as the Doctor ladled two or three scoops of each entrée on his plate and started eating before he was even seated at the kitchen table.
"Grading papers starves a man," he commented. He continued to eat, waiting for Grace to make herself a plate and sit before speaking any further. "I'm seriously thinking of quitting teaching after the end of the semester." Seeing Grace's surprised look, he raised his eyebrows. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Grace told him before tilting her head slightly and admitting the truth. "I just thought you were happy teaching. You seemed happy, anyway."
"I like teaching," the Doctor agreed. "I don't like grading papers and tests and having to follow the rules that the school administration says I have to follow, telling me what I can or cannot teach." He took a mouthful of lo mien and spoke with his mouth full. "What do they know about physics and chemistry?"
"I'm sure that you could run circles around them with what you know. And we aren't eating Tangalonian food so don't talk with your mouth full."
He rolled his eyes slightly at her words. "It's not like we're in public. I could always tutor for extra money," he continued the conversation without a missed beat. "The whole concept of earning money is still so odd to me. You humans are so… materialistic."
"Oh, and you aren't?" Grace teased. "Don't forget. I've seen your DVD collection." Seeing the Doctor shrug his concession, she smiled slightly. "Speaking of which… dinner and a movie?"
The suggestion was accepted readily and, after dinner was finished, the dishes were washed, and the leftovers were put away, the two of them found themselves sitting in the TARDIS' theater, watching a gangster movie from the 1940s.
Grace didn't notice her eyes growing heavy. Nor did she notice how she had moved slowly closer to the Doctor, eventually rested her head on his shoulder as she drifted asleep.
The Doctor, for his part, didn't really notice how his arm gently moved around Grace's shoulder until he heard the soft sigh coming from her lips as she slept. He looked down at her with slight surprise, noticing their positions. For a split second, a flicker of panic filled him as he wondered what to do. He couldn't just wake her and cause her that kind of embarrassment. Neither could he just let her be for the same reason. He doubted it would go over well for her to discover that she had fallen asleep in his arms.
Fortunately, he remembered that she was a deep sleeper and that it would be quite easy to just take her back to her bedroom. Carefully extricating himself from her weight, he lifted her from the couch and slowly carried her out of the TARDIS, out of the guest cottage and into the main house. The stairs up to her bedroom weren't an obstacle for him and he soon was gently lowering her sleeping form onto her bed. He delicately removed her shoes before pulling a cover over her. Then, without even thinking about his actions, he leaned down and kissed Grace gently on her forehead. "Sweet dreams," he whispered softly to her before slowly leaving her bedroom.
Only when he was out in the hallway and the door was closed did he fully realize what he had done and the implications of his actions. They were right, every single one of them from Mr. Pope at the school to Grace's father to even the TARDIS.
The Doctor, the Last of the Time Lords, the Last President of Gallifrey, the Oncoming Storm, the Defender of the Universe… was in love with Dr. Grace Holloway.
