Unsettled did not cover how she felt; not this sensation as if every red blood cell had turned spiky. She headed away from the Spire with no destination in mind. An hour later, she was lost in some residential area. Gallifrey's dust was of the mental kind. The environmental systems of the Citadel kept everything tidy. The doors could have concealed empty apartments or she could be in the midst of a populous neighborhood. Professor Omicron had rejected this warren life.
Her feet were tired by the time she found her way back to her apartment. She hurt all over, with untraceable, phantom pain. It wasn't her imagination. The stolid guard at the entrance to the Presidential Suite gave her a keen and searching look that wondered if she were an incident to report. She closed the door of her private apartment with a sense of relief. There were cures for this misery. The usual prescription was chocolate or a hot bath. Gallifrey was sadly deficient in chocolate. She should get the Doctor to introduce it. Didn't chocolate ape the chemical rush of love? It had been a long time since she'd seen a issue of Cosmopolitan.
Chocolate would be perfect for Gallifrey. They could have their love substitute without ever having to touch another person.
"It was just a kiss, woman!"
Why did she always have to make things more difficult? Tegan plopped down in the bath and felt the water swirl around her. It was soft, with something mixed into it that cleansed her without any effort. Today she noticed a new scent. It was pleasant, barely noticeable, and after a while she realized that the jangling of her nerves had ceased. It was some kind of aromatherapy. No wonder Gallifreyans thought they didn't need other people when they had technology like this.
They were completely wrong, but she could understand where they'd got the idea.
Poor Keludar, left there alone. She wondered if he had any idea how to handle sexual frustration. Would he have any idea what was going on with his body? Probably he had some technique for calming his hormones. The hot bath worked pretty well for her.
Tegan crawled out of the bath, submitted to the post-bath routine, and went straight to bed. It had been that kind of day.
- o - O - o -
Hands touching her. A voice whispering things she couldn't quite hear. The weight of a body, no, yes–she tried to hold on, but the contact was never quite enough. She slipped her fingers into Keludar's blond hair, drew the Doctor down for a kiss. She tasted Kel's mouth more vividly than anything else so far and her other senses began to wake up. There he was, a solid weight promising the kind of touch she craved. He smiled at her, blue-eyed, dark-haired; he chuckled through bearded lips. The first sound she heard clearly was the Master's velvety chuckle.
She screamed herself awake.
Tegan found herself sitting upright in bed, her heart hammering and her body fever hot. The cool air of the room felt like a splash of ice water on her sweat glazed skin.
Someone was talking. Someone was there in the room.
"Madame? Are you unwell?"
Light came into the bedroom from the open door. Someone was standing there and a few blinks showed her the silhouette of one of the Guards. The white cloak was unmistakable.
"What? I'm not... I mean, I'm fine."
It was just then that she realized she was sitting there naked, with the sheet around her hips. She gasped and snatched at the sheet, which tangled with her legs, turned slippery and evaded her sleep-clumsy fingers.
There was someone else at the door. "Get out. I'll handle this," said the Doctor's voice. The guard murmured something inaudible and left. The Doctor closed the door. Tegan noticed, when she finally had the sheet wrapped around her torso, that he had his back to her. God forbid the Doctor should see something he'd rather not see.
She wanted him to go away, but he wouldn't without an explanation of some kind. She knew him that well.
"You can turn around. It's safe." Tegan winced at the nasty tone of her voice.
The bed was huge. The Doctor came and sat on the end of it, and was well out of reach. "What happened?"
"It was only a nightmare. Sorry about the ruckus." Tegan pulled her knees up and felt the remnants of arousal sticky between her thighs.
"Do you want to talk about it?" There was barely enough light for her to make out where his face was. She couldn't read his expression at all, but his voice was kind and patient.
His patience scraped Tegan's nerves, but she was not crazy enough to yell at him for acting like a friend. "No," she said, and cursed mentally. She should have told him she didn't remember. That would have been safer.
"It was only a normal sort of nightmare? You've impetus enough for those, I'm sorry to say."
He had that right. Tegan imagined saying, "I dreamt I was shagging you or Keludar, and then I realized it was the Master." She'd rather die. "How did the guard hear me scream? I thought these apartments were soundproof."
Even in the dark, she thought she could make out that pained look he got when she put him off instead of answering his questions. "The environmental systems noticed your distress and summoned assistance."
"What, are nightmares illegal on Gallifrey?"
"The systems here are not used to dealing with anyone but a Time Lord. You know I rarely sleep."
Tegan's subconscious handed a note to her conscious which said, snidely, 'he's fully dressed in the middle of the night, you know.' "Yes, I know," she said to the Doctor. She knew she sounded like a grumpy, ungrateful bitch, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.
"Has anything happened to upset you? I thought you enjoyed your visit with the Shobogans."
"It doesn't have anything to do with that!" God, she sounded like a teenager. She was not going to talk to the Doctor like she was a sulky child and he the forebearing parent. "Sorry. I guess I'm still shaken up."
"That's quite all right. I know we've not had much time together. Perhaps you'd like to talk awhile, until you're ready to go back to sleep?"
He was determined to look after her. She'd better submit with a good grace. She was supposed to be an adult, after all; it was time she acted it.
"Yes, but I don't want to talk in bed," oh, no, why'd I put it that way? "And I'm, well…" A laugh turned up in her voice. "Doctor, please hand me my dressing gown and turn your back?"
The Doctor got off the bed in a hurry. He found the robe right away, handed it to her, then retreated and turned away. His eyes obviously had enough light to see by. She could only see him because he was wearing white.
Tegan let the sheet drop. She knew the Doctor wouldn't turn around, but she watched his back anyway. He'd never turn around. Even though Gallifreyan males could definitely be interested in sex and aroused by a woman's touch, the Doctor had more control of himself than to peep at her like a teenaged boy. Her heart was still beating fast. Tegan stood up, unable to resist the impulse that moved her. Naked, she took a step forward and began leisurely pulling the dressing gown on over her arms. The Doctor's shoulders twitched. Without closing her gown, Tegan put her hand on the Doctor's back.
"Thanks for coming to my rescue, Doc. That poor guard had no idea."
"It was nothing, Tegan. I'm glad you're all right. You are, aren't you?" Tegan enjoyed feeling the rumble of his voice through her hand. It took a moment for the dubious tone to register, and she snatched her hand back quickly and did up her garment. The movement of cloth on skin yielded a puff of her own body odor: human sweat, Gallifreyan bath scent, and just a hint of female sexual arousal. Far too late, she remembered that the Doctor claimed to have a keen sense of smell.
Tegan circled around the Doctor. "Decent, now. God, I need a drink."
"Er, yes, under these circumstances, I agree. Shall I?"
"Yes, please. I want a minute to splash my face." Tegan took a couple of minutes, actually, quickly wiping down her body before returning to find that the Doctor had provided drinks. She took the offered cup. "Let's go out."
"Out?" The Doctor looked at her dressing gown and bare feet.
"Outside, out," Tegan grinned at him and led the way to the garden. The snow was thicker than ever, but a path had already been thawed and warmed for her. She guessed that it had been done starting from the moment she'd moved towards the door. Her breath hung in the air like a magician's string of silk handkerchiefs, yet her bare feet were toasty warm.
"It likes you," the Doctor said over her shoulder.
"What likes me?" Tegan sipped experimentally at her drink. It was strong stuff. This must be what it took to get a Time Lord drunk.
"The environmental system. It's not unlike the systems on the TARDIS. It has an element of awareness. It knows when it is used or unused; it knows that you appreciate it. It wants to be used. That is its fundamental purpose. So it responds to you promptly and tries to anticipate your needs, in the scope of its function." The Doctor stepped up beside her.
"I love it out here. It's so peaceful. I know there's a force screen around it keeping out the worst of the weather, but someone realized that snow is worth having." The burn of the drink made her feel light-headed in a pleasant way. It had been a kiss, no calamity; a nightmare, no violation. The sky was lit with false dawn. Sunrise would come early here, so high up.
The Doctor took her hand. Out here in the cold, his grip felt comparatively warm. "If you would like, Tegan, it shall be your private garden for the duration of your stay. I will tell the system that you have the authority to deny others entrance, save under emergency conditions."
Her throat tightened, she had to choke out the words. "Thank you, Doctor. Yes, I would like that."
"Consider it your Otherstide present." She looked at him, he smiled, squeezed her hand, and released it. "It's a Gallifreyan winter festival. It's surprisingly analogous to Christmas. People sometimes give gifts, and attend family dinners."
"Is there going to be a family dinner? You've never mentioned having family." Tegan stared at him. She loved the idea of owning the garden, however temporary, but she was more interested in the Doctor's past. For a man who spoke about himself as much as did the Doctor, he never actually said much.
"I have relatives. We do not get on. At any rate, as President of the High Council, I will have to host a function for the occasion. It's a matter of tradition and expectation. It's like an unofficial obligation." The Doctor smiled wryly.
"Sounds like family to me. Could I help with your party? I may not be political, but I'm social." Tegan put on her best company smile. Maybe an air hostess wasn't a rocket scientist, but she'd been trained to meet and greet.
"If you would be my companion for the evening, I would appreciate it. For one thing, it would signal that I am refusing to do business." The Doctor's smile warmed, and Tegan tried to remember the last time she'd seen him look simply happy. "I think it would do them good to pass a night in frivolity."
"The Shobogans know how to party. They have actual food and drink. They have music and dancing." Tegan sighed. She bet the Shobogans would throw a great Otherstide party.
"You mean they have fun? Good thing they were outlawed, it might spread." The Doctor might have meant it to be a joke, but there was unmistakable bitterness in his voice.
Tegan elbowed him. "When fun is outlawed, only outlaws have fun."
He laughed out loud, loud enough to shake snow off a nearby tree branch. "I could make myself notorious. The Lord President, hosting a dance. Oh, the scandal."
"Are you sure the shock wouldn't kill some of the older ones?"
"Regenerate them, not kill. Some of the older-looking ones are still on their early regenerations. You've a point. I'll have to invite some people under a century old, if only for the sake of you and Turlough. He spent a lot of time with the Academy students while you were gone. I'm sure he'll have a few names," the Doctor mused.
About to suggest Keludar, Tegan found herself hesitating to speak. Maybe she'd check with Turlough, later. She didn't want to think about Keludar right now. She suddenly noticed the Doctor watching her closely. "Invite young people who'll dance? Aren't you going to dance? You do know how, don't you? I mean, you didn't find a murder at Cranleigh Hall to get out of dancing."
"Certainly I know how to dance. I'll show you, on the night–after all, if you're attending as my special guest, it would be incredibly rude to fail to dance with you."
"You'll have to dance with me twice. You owe me one for the one you missed at Cranleigh Hall."
"I'll remember," the Doctor promised. "Now, shouldn't you go back to bed?" The first sunlight gilded his hair.
Tegan shook her head. "I want to watch the sun come up in my garden." She turned to face the light with one hand lifted to shield her eyes. The sun made the orange sky glow like flame and blazed on the snow. In a secret corner of her heart, Tegan let herself believe that all this glory was for her. The Doctor had not moved. Tegan put out a hand to him, and he took it. "Thank you, Doctor."
"You're welcome, Tegan. Now, back to bed." He put his hand on her back and firmly escorted her inside. Tegan realized that she'd let herself get quite cold, and gladly dived under the covers without removing her dressing gown. Sleep claimed her almost immediately. If there were more dreams, she did not recall them later.
tbc