oOo
Tegan heard the determined knock on her bedroom door, and knew who it was instantly, without needing to ask. Lavinia had already made it quite clear that she was staying out of it from this point on, and Tegan had no doubts that Sarah Jane and Harry, whom she'd heard drive up and then leave, had also been firmly steered away.
No, there was no question as to who was knocking, more impatiently this time, at her door. The only question was whether she would answer, or just wait for him to go away.
"Tegan, are you going to come out, or shall I take the chance you're decent and simply barge in?" the Doctor's voice rang out, and Tegan knew that he wasn't going to allow her the option of ignoring him a little longer. He was determined to have it all out, whether she was ready or not.
Tegan closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again as she took a deep breath and opened the door. The painful truth of the matter was that she might never feel ready for this.
Or for him.
He was standing, hands in pockets, gazing down at his feet. When he raised his eyes to meet hers, she had to physically restrain herself from closing the door on him. Those eyes; damn him, why did he have to have such beautiful eyes? "Lanie's sleeping." It was the truth, but also an evasion; it wasn't even close to what she really wanted to say to him.
The Doctor craned his head to look over her shoulder, taking in the antique cradle standing next to the bed. He couldn't see the baby, just the blankets and a floppy stuffed animal-a bear, perhaps, or a rabbit-draped over one side. "We don't want to wake her," he said reluctantly, his eyes glued to the domestic scene before him. "So I suppose..."
"I suppose we'd best go downstairs," Tegan finished for him. That caught his attention; he returned his gaze to her, surprise on every feature. Surprise that she hadn't seized the opportunity to run away again. It was what she wanted to do, but she refused to give in to her fears. Not any more. She turned back into the room briefly, switching on the monitor, a small device that appeared a bit advanced for the mid-1980s and which he suspected of being a baby gift from someone with UNIT connections. How else to explain the fact that it had video capabilities?
"The other end's in the kitchen," she said, brushing past him quickly and heading down the stairs, interrupting his distracted thoughts. He hesitated, then stepped softly into the bedroom, peering quietly down at his sleeping daughter. She shifted slightly, as if feeling the weight of his gaze, and he backed out as quietly as he'd entered. Of course, if she'd managed to sleep through him shouting and pounding on the door not once but twice, then obviously she could sleep through anything. He felt an absurd surge of pride at the thought, as if a knack for sleeping heavily was some sort of accomplishment, but refused to tamp it down. If he wanted to feel pride for his daughter, he damn well would.
It was in that mood that he followed Tegan, closing the door behind him.
The Doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably as they each took a chair on opposite sides of the small kitchen table, eyeing each other warily the whole time. "Well. Here we are." For someone so determined to talk, he found himself at a sudden loss for words.
Tegan nodded. "Yes, here we are." They fell silent once again, avoiding each other's gaze until the Doctor forced himself to look at her.
She didn't look any different than when she'd left him. Oh, the clothes were a bit more conservative, but her hair was essentially the same length, her figure perhaps a bit more rounded, especially in the obvious places, but she'd certainly lost any baby weight she'd gained, at least as far as he could tell. He supposed he didn't look any different, either, although he certainly felt different.
She sat there, hunched forward, eyes glancing sideways toward the monitor tucked discreetly between two earthenware pitchers on Lavinia's massive mahogany sideboard. As if hoping her daughter would begin to cry and give her an excuse to leave. Sensing the Doctor's scrutiny, or perhaps coming to the decision on her own, she straightened, thrust her chin out, and turned to look at him, full on, her eyes full of challenge. "You wanted to talk. All right then, what do you want me to say?"
"This isn't about what I want or don't want you to say, Tegan," the Doctor replied quietly. "It's about what you want to tell me." She just looked at him, and he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in exasperation. "Very well then, answer me this: Was the real reason you left because of the baby? Because quite frankly if it was, I think you were being unfair."
"Unfair to who, you?" Tegan shot back. Her hands, which had been restlessly fidgeting, went very still. "Maybe it was," she agreed. "But you didn't try to stop me." Hurt and anger warred for dominance in her voice, in her expression, in her very posture, and the Doctor had no idea which would win out. Especially when he was feeling the same potent mixture of emotions.
"I was afraid to," he admitted. Tegan snorted disbelievingly. "No, I was," he protested. "I was afraid you wouldn't listen. I never really believed you, you know, saying it wasn't fun anymore." His gaze slipped toward the monitor she had just been focused on, and he forced himself to return his attention fully to the woman sitting at the opposite end of the worn oak table. "Not really. I thought there had to be more to it than that. I just assumed that you needed to make a clean break of it, to get away from-well, from me."
"You thought I was running away from you?" Her voice was cautious, but still edged with the familiar belligerence that had always been one of her best weapons of distraction.
He nodded. "Weren't you?" Her silence spoke volumes, and he gave a helpless shrug. He wanted to hear her side of things, and so far he was doing all the talking. So much for planning ahead... "You were. So I let you. I thought it was what you wanted, and I accepted what you told me as truth because it was easier than trying to get at the real reasons. Or at least, what I thought were the real reasons. I was afraid to press you, because there were things I thought you might say that I didn't want to hear." He smiled briefly, painfully. "I was frightened." The smile faded. "As frightened as I imagine you were, even if it was for a different reason. And that's a terribly difficult thing for me to admit."
"I was terrified." Tegan felt her foot begin to tap nervously against the wooden floorboards; it took an effort of will to stop the movement. "I couldn't even begin to figure out how I felt about it, let alone how you would feel. I mean, come on; how many pregnant women go gadding about the universe in a time machine? So I left before you could make me."
"Surely you didn't think I'd...turn you out?" The Doctor's voice was skeptical. "This is hardly a Victorian melodrama," he added with a touch of sarcasm as remembered pain blended with current pain. He was a father, and she hadn't even let him know. Anger was beginning to get the upper hand, and he fought to control his temper. Her inability to do so was something he'd chided her for more than once in the past.
"You did once before," Tegan snapped back, then bit her lip in annoyance. She'd promised herself that she'd keep her head. Letting her emotions get the better of her had done nothing but get her into trouble all her life. "Well you did," she insisted, glaring at the frown of protest she saw creasing his forehead. "You left me at Heathrow." To hell with holding things in. If now wasn't the time to air dirty linen, it never would be.
"You can hardly call that being turned out," the Doctor protested. He was unable to keep the irritation out of his voice, in spite of his intentions to keep his calm. "You kept telling me you wanted to go home, so when the TARDIS actually managed to land at Heathrow, I took you at your word. I sent you home."
Tegan's glare intensified. "I didn't really mean it." And you should have known, her tone implied.
"And how, exactly, was I supposed to know?" the Doctor asked with exaggerated patience. He was definitely not used to this kind of... foolishness.
Tegan's glare turned withering. "You're the Time Lord, the one with all the experience in the ways of the bloody universe, didn't you ever take the time to try and figure out women?"
"Gallifreyan women tend to be more logical and a helluva lot less emotional." The Doctor was glaring right back at her. He stood abruptly, no longer able to keep his seat. A part of him was watching in astonishment, amazed that he could muster this much outrage over something so commonplace as a domestic dispute. "They don't play emotional games, and they damn well say what they mean! If a Gallifreyan woman were in the same situation, she would have told me immediately so we could work things out together!"
He was yelling. He was actually yelling at her. She, too came to her feet, shoving her chair back and slamming her hands on the table. If she'd paled, or trembled, or even cried, he would have been able to rein in his temper. But she was Tegan, and if she'd been avoiding this conversation before, she certainly wasn't backing down now. "If you weren't so damned distant and patronizing, then maybe I would have been able to tell you about it! It isn't as if we planned it, as if we planned anything at all!" she blazed. "You never even told me if I meant anything to you!"
There it was, out in the open at last. "Not once, not even when we were sleeping together," she continued in a quieter voice. "For all I knew, I was just a warm body, a convenience. Hell, that could have been what you were thinking I felt. Because. We. Never. Talked." She sat, suddenly, as if drained by her outburst, her response to his outburst, and he slowly copied her, returning not to his own seat but to the one closest to her. The physical distance was saying something, something he didn't want it to.
He reached out and took her hand in his. He felt her start to pull away, then suddenly she gripped his fingers as if her life depended on it. "No, we didn't," he agreed softly. He'd asked, and she'd answered. In spades. And if he felt a part of himself wincing with something that felt suspiciously like shame at her words, well, then, he would just have to live with that feeling. If Tegan was laying blame, she was laying it fairly, on both their shoulders. He might not have been playing games, not intentionally, but he hadn't been completely open with her, either.
"I knew you didn't really turn me out, that it was my own fault," she continued after a painful silence. "In a way, I did want to go, because I was scared then, too. Scared of how I felt, scared of how you felt, or of how you didn't feel...Too scared to admit it to anyone, even myself." Her voice turned cold. "And then the Master played that nasty trick on us with his fake Adric. He opened a lot of wounds with that little stunt, brought up a lot of pain I thought I'd got over. I was so angry and hurt, I took it out on you, started screaming about going home again. So that's where you sent me; I suppose you thought it was for the best." She stopped once again, an unreadable expression on her face. "I tried to get back to my normal life, forget the TARDIS, make a go of being an air hostess. What a laugh that was." A touch of bitterness entered her voice. "I got the sack; they said my mind clearly wasn't on my work."
Just when the Doctor began to wonder if she'd finished, she started speaking again. "Then my cousin Cohn got mixed up in that nastiness with Omega, and suddenly you were back in my life again. So I just invited myself back to the TARDIS." Another long pause. "This time, I was determined to do it right, not get mixed up with you again-not as anything but a friend. I still didn't know how I felt about you, or you about me. So I told myself I just wanted to see Nyssa again, explore a little more of the universe. And I missed the excitement," she confessed. "It gets in your blood, y'know?"
The Doctor nodded. He understood that feeling quite well. Quite well, indeed.
Tegan continued: "So I kept you at arm's length, didn't hardly let you near enough to even be a friend, let alone for anything more. I guess I had myself convinced it was just comfort to you, that all you'd needed was a shoulder to cry on after Adric died, and that we'd both gotten carried away. And it seemed to me you were thinking the same sort of thing, since you'd been so willing to let me go in the first place." She shrugged. "But it wasn't working, at least not for me. I didn't want to just stay friends. And I then I began to wonder if you were feeling the same way."
"I won't deny it," the Doctor interjected, stroking her hand absently. The anger he'd been feeling had dwindled to something more manageable, something he was better able to control. The fact that they'd both made mistakes, and that Tegan was so willing to admit it, helped a great deal. But although their initial spate of bickering was past them, he knew there was bound to be more before they'd wangled things out between them. "Tegan, I've always cared about you a great deal. I'm sorry I didn't make that clear to you sooner, else all this might have been avoided."
Tegan nodded, accepting the truth of his words. "But you didn't," she said simply. "And neither did I. I never told you how I felt. So there we were, walking on eggs around each other." She smiled unexpectedly, a wry, bittersweet smile. "Poor Nyssa! It must have been awful for her don't you think? The tension was so thick-! She ended up on pins and needles too, and I don't think she ever really knew what was going on. At least, she never let on to me if she did. I let her think I was being cool because I felt guilty about leaving and then just inviting myself back."
"It was why she left." There was regret in the Doctor's voice. "Nyssa was another casualty of our lack of communication. If Turlough had been less self-centered, he might have abandoned us as well."
"Did he? Leave?" Tegan glanced around involuntarily, as if Turlough might pop up from behind the refrigerator.
"Yes, he went home," the Doctor assured her. "Then I picked up another stray, only when I received Lavinia's call, I dropped her back home, very much against her will." Peri had been quite vociferous in her demands to stay with him, but he'd been adamant. Where the same tactic would have worked if it were Tegan making the demands, Peri didn't even come close to getting under his skin the way the woman sitting next to him always had. Still did, obviously.
"Unless there were something in it for him, Turlough wouldn't notice the end of bloody universe," Tegan muttered. Before the Doctor could spring to the boy's defense, however, she relented. "I'm glad he made it home, that he's safe."
"We should both be glad he didn't notice what we were getting up to," was the Doctor's dry comment. He was grateful for that, Turlough's lack of comprehension as to the rather complicated nature of the Doctor's relationship with Tegan. The boy wasn't above a spot of blackmail, not if the Doctor read him correctly, and Tegan would have quite happily destroyed him if he tried any such thing with either of them.
Tegan almost smiled. "It was different, after I got back, after the Mara. The nightmares..." The sketch of a smile faded as she shook her head. "I never woke Nyssa with them, no screaming aloud or thrashing about, but they were just about the worst thing that had ever happened to me. They made me more reckless, I suppose, than I might have been otherwise."
"Maybe, but that doesn't explain my part. I never turned you away," he reminded her. "And not just because I thought you were seeking comfort. Oh, I told myself it was because you needed me, but there was more to it than that. And perhaps if I'd told you that," he added bitterly, "I wouldn't be meeting my daughter when she was, what? Nearly five months old?"
He felt Tegan's hand jerk beneath his before she relaxed once again in his hold. Not entirely, but she wasn't pulling away, and he felt absurdly reassured by that. "Nearly," she whispered. Her lips were trembling, and he reached up with one thumb to gently wipe away the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. "It's just as much my fault. When I realized I was pregnant, when I finally admitted it wasn't just nerves or something simple like that, what did I do? I ran away, without talking to you. Without telling you why."
Before he could say anything, she abruptly pulled her hand free of his and rose to her feet, moving to stand near the sink. Staring out the window. "I was afraid of other things besides you, you know, besides my feelings. Things like Daleks and Cybermen. Real, physical dangers. What kind of a place is a TARDIS to raise a child?"
"I did it once," he pointed out, rising to join her in front of the window. The TARDIS was smack in the middle of Lavinia's small yard, and it was that to which Tegan's gaze had been drawn. "Susan grew up just fine. Although," he was forced to admit, "I did tend to steer clear of trouble spots until she was old enough to handle them."
"Yes, well, I wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the time," Tegan reminded him. His hand had found hers again, and she clasped it gently. "I didn't really mean 'fun' when I left; what I should have said was 'safe'. I kept thinking about Adric, and how that could happen to anyone, how it could have been me. I had some nasty, selfish reasons for leaving, Doctor, I admit it. But I was thinking about Lanie, too, driving myself half-mad worrying about everything that could happen. I had to get away; I felt like I needed a safe place to think, to figure things out."
"I wanted to come after you," the Doctor said. "I almost did. But I stopped myself. You sounded as if you meant it, and I felt compelled to honor what I thought you wanted."
"I came back." She could feel the surprise in his gaze and smiled. "I actually changed my mind about two seconds after I left, but it was too late. You were gone."
"And now?" The question was quietly asked.
Tegan took a moment to collect her thoughts before answering. "Now I've had plenty of time to think," she said slowly. "In the end, I still believe leaving was the right thing to do for myself. Maybe not the right thing for you, or for us," she added her voice low and passionate now with remembered pain, "but the right thing for me. It's kept me sane, staying here; at least I know Lanie and I are safe. Well, safer," she corrected herself. "Not that anyplace is really safe these days, but South Croydon is a little closer to safe than the TARDIS. Since I've been here," she added, "I've been trying to get used to the idea that I'd never see you again. But here you are." She stopped abruptly, unsure of what to say next.
"Yes, here I am," the Doctor agreed. Her explanation, confused and convoluted though it was, made perfect sense to him. Or at least, as much sense as anything in his life. "Now what are we going to do?" He locked his gaze with hers. "Do you want me to stay away? Or stay here?"
"Hell's teeth, Doctor, I don't know what I want!" Tegan exclaimed, slapping her hand down on the edge of the sink. She stared at him with an expression that was equal parts frustration, exasperation and amusement. "Didn't I just get done saying that?"
"Yes, I suppose you did," the Doctor replied. Before he could say anything else, Tegan turned to face him, tilting her head back just a little so she could look directly into his eyes. He gazed up at her questioningly.
"Do you love me?" The unexpectedness of the question jolted him, but he realized he should have seen it coming. She'd all but admitted that was how she felt about him; fair was fair.
The Doctor was quiet for a long time, long enough for Tegan to break her gaze and walk back over to the table, waiting in silence to see how-and if-he would answer her question.
The Time Lord fidgeted uncomfortably as he considered that question. "I don't know," he finally replied. "I'm not trying to avoid an answer, Tegan; that's the simple truth. I honestly don't know. It's not the sort of emotion that comes easily to a Time Lord. We spend a great deal of our energy trying to remain dispassionate, so when someone comes along who can rattle that equilibrium, it takes us by surprise, disorients us. Me," he corrected himself. "I can only speak for myself."
"So you've never been in love?" Tegan looked as if she were talking to the table, head lowered and arms crossed. He moved again, this time to stand directly behind her, gently laying his hands on her shoulders. They were as tense as they looked.
"No," he replied. "Never. I've never allowed myself to become that attached to anyone, beyond the bounds of friendship and camaraderie. Until I met you," he added quietly. "And I am rather attached to you. I've missed you, busied myself in this and that to cover up how much I missed you. I even missed the way you always argue with me." He felt her shoulders shake with silent laughter at that admission, and felt some of his own tension ease. "I'm sorry I can't answer your question any better than that."
"Well, then I guess we'll just have to see what the future holds," Tegan replied. "I do love you, you know. In case you were wondering. I've felt it before, but never like this. And that frightened me more than anything else. Because I never believed you could possibly love me back."
She twisted her head round to face him, and the sight of her so vulnerable, so open, stole the breath from his lungs, nearly stopped his hearts as he realized what this conversation had cost her. Without thinking, without analyzing, he leaned down and kissed her, cupping her face in his hands, feeling her body turn to face him, feeling her lips soft and warm beneath his.
When they broke apart, Tegan was flushed and confused. "Does this mean you're going to stay?" she whispered. "Or is this good-bye?"
"It is not good-bye." In spite of all the uncertainties they still faced, that was one thing he was quite sure of. He refused to relinquish his gentle hold on her face, and the table behind her prevented her from moving away even if she'd wanted to. "I came here to be reunited with old friends, no emergencies and no other obligations standing in my way. Now that I've found you and Lanie, I've no intention of doing anything other than getting to know you better. Both of you."
Tegan beamed and flung her arms around his neck for a hug which he enthusiastically returned. "Splendid!" She pulled back, but only to reach for his hand and drag him toward the front parlor. "There's so much we need to ask you, Harry and I, questions about Lanie we were afraid we'd never have the answers to."
The Doctor tugged her to a stop. "Questions I may not have the answers to, either," he warned her. "Remember, Lanie's a hybrid. What I know about Gallifreyan physiology may not entirely apply."
"I know, Harry said the same thing," Tegan replied airily. "But we've got the TARDIS now, so even if there are differences, at least you can scan her or something, make sure everything's really OK." She bit her lip, and the Doctor narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "We haven't gone to UNIT," she confessed. "I didn't want Lanie to become a lab rat for the scientists there. I was afraid they'd take her away from me, so we've only had access to ordinary medical equipment."
"We'll take her on the TARDIS for a full look-over whenever you want," the Doctor assured her.
Tegan's smile was dazzling. "Super." She glanced around. "Lanie's sleeping, the house is empty, and I believe there's a bottle of wine or two about. Shall we work on getting reacquainted?" Her smile turned wicked, and she pulled him down for a kiss that left him even more breathless than the one they'd just shared.
"Tegan, are you sure this is what you want?" he murmured as she pressed her body against his. His hands moved of their own accord to circle her waist. "This is what got us into trouble the last time..."
"There's a box of condoms in Sarah Jane's room," Tegan mumbled against his lips, her hands busily tugging on his jacket. Trying to remove it. "I've gone on the pill as well and I promise not to run away this time." She stopped what she was doing, pulling back to look him squarely in the eyes. "I mean it. I won't if you won't." There it was, the challenging young woman he was used to. And yet, she wasn't the same, not exactly, and he liked what he saw. And not just because she was in the process of removing her own clothing as well as his own.
"No one leaves," he agreed, allowing his jacket to drop to the floor. He nuzzled her gently, nibbling the side of her neck while she went to work on his jumper.
His last coherent thought was one of admiration for the confident woman Tegan had become. She had somehow found time, in the past year, between giving birth and learning how to be a mother, to grow up a little more herself. In spite of the fact that she'd tried hiding and avoiding the issue at first, in spite of the fact that he could still see the defiant, petulant and somewhat reckless child she had been only a few short months ago, he found himself impressed with the more responsible and mature woman in his arms. Motherhood, he decided, most certainly agreed with Tegan Jovanka.
And it certainly hadn't slowed her down any. She kissed him again, velvety lips against his, the tip of her tongue darting out as if to taste him, her hands sliding down his chest and fumbling with his belt...With a groan, he swept her up into his arms and headed for the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. "Where did you say those condoms were?"
Tegan's delighted laughter echoed through the house, but Lanie slept on. She gave her parents exactly three uninterrupted hours before reminding them of her presence.
It was the best gift they could have received.
Epilogue
The White Guardian frowned. The message had somehow got through, which it most emphatically was not supposed to do. And the Time Lord was now on Earth, where he didn't belong. Not now, anyway. He was throwing things off schedule; the repercussions could be felt across the cosmos.
The White Guardian came to the reluctant conclusion that he would have to do something about this. Someone was interfering with the way things were supposed to go, and he would have to intercede as well, something he hated to do. Meddling directly with the ephemeral beings it was his duty to watch over and guide went against the grain, to borrow an Earth expression, but it was definitely called for in this situation. Much as he preferred to work through intermediaries, he was once again faced with a situation that required immediate action on his own part.
With a mental sigh of resignation, the White Guardian prepared to speak to the Doctor.
Who wasn't going to like the conversation one bit.
The End
(For Now)
A/N: Oh, did I forget to mention this was the first of at least two stories? (Chuckles evilly) I promise to post the second part soon, after I finish another sequel (to my story "End of the Circle"). Patience, and all will be revealed! Thanks for sticking with me, and remember to post your reviews if you are so inclined!