///
There were a few elusive bits of equipment the Doctor still hoped to find. And there was the prospect of Christmas shopping on strange worlds. He knew Sarah Jane would be amazed by the market on Galep, should the TARDIS cooperate and manage the trip as planned.
It was decidedly Galep where they'd arrived. The exact time period he was not sure of, but it was advanced enough that it looked promising for his necessary purchases.
The business district stretched on for miles. It was coarse and unsanitary. Still, it was exciting and bustling, and he was sure Sarah was still the kind of girl who would enjoy it.
...
There were probably a hundred booths, Sarah Jane decided. Many of them held electronics parts and earned at least a look from the Doctor. After an hour, they found that one seller had just what he needed. He 'ooh'd' and 'ah'd' over the components, finally making the sale. He turned, handing the pieces to Sarah Jane to put in her satchel. He was frozen then for a split second that she distinctly registered. "Do not over react. We cannot risk drawing attention to ourselves here," he warned her quietly.
His body had been warning enough. She had registered the change in him before she even heard his words. His arms and chest had gone rigid. His jaw was set hard now, and there was none of the tentative sweetness in his eyes that she had grown used to. She wanted to ease away from him, but she held still.
She had seen this switch flip in the Brigadier. And to a lesser extent in the Doctor's previous regenerations. This Doctor was unknowable right now. And 'Duncan' was obviously gone. It was a frightening prospect to see something in your husband that you had never seen before.
What was it he had said all those months ago? That he had lost the stomach for all those things he had been fashioned for. 'Fashioned for.' As if he pictured himself a wind-up soldier. A device employed by others for things no one would care to do. She worried, but pressed on.
"Can you tell me?" she asked lightly, in case they were overheard.
He looked down then, met her eyes at last, and faked a smile. "Across the square from us," he whispered. "Just take a casual turn about."
She moved cautiously as if just surveying the market. A line of slight, bluish beings was being marshaled through the rows toward the center. "Are those... ?
"Yes. Slaves. They're Pelorians. Someone must be having a slave auction today," he said gravely.
"You seen this here before?"
"Centuries ago. This market place is full of thieves, but this," he ground our tensely, "I did not expect."
A new set of three was being pushed past.
"They're so small," Sarah whispered.
"Because they are quite young," the Doctor informed her.
Sarah flinched at that news.
"The slavers, those burly fellows, are Usurians. They can adopt a humanoid form, but in their natural state they resemble seaweed. The field guide at school referred to them as poisonous fungi. Don't move. Now. Don't stare," he reminded her. He traced a cold finger down her cheek to distract her, and it was so unlike his usual touch, she wished he hadn't.
His other arm was snug around her and she tried to relax a bit. She saw his small smile that seem to reward that effort.
"You can't let them know you disapprove," he said in a voice that was not quite his own.
"Right," she said, "because otherwise they will be looking for something to happen."
She turned more fully to him. Gave him a fake smile for the benefit of everyone who bustled around them. Cautiously, she pulled closer to him. With her lips to his ear then she whispered, "Because something is going to happen, right?"
His grasp was stiff, almost uncomfortable as he pulled her still tighter against him to complete their amorous show. "Of course, something is going to happen." His focus left her then as he obviously considered the situation.
His eyes snapped to as a large, slick-looking thing passed them - gurgling it's disapproval. The creature may have been upset that they were blocking the path. Or perhaps, it was because Sarah's hands were touching an area on the Doctor's chest that alien considered indecent. But the Doctor figured it was because Sarah's pleased noises sounded distinctly like that species' petition for a conjugal visit.
"Honeymoon," the Doctor apologized, doffing his hat.
He receive a very dismayed sounding bray in reply as the thing backed away now.
"She can't help it!" The doctor called after him, as he protectively pulled Sarah's head ridiculously closer to him.
She marveled at the change in him. He had gone from tense and fierce, to calm and ready for action. He had set upon a course of action she knew, or he would not have been able to act that odd, little play.
He took Sarah's hand then and kissed it, as he watched the offended alien skitter away.
"I don't suppose you know anything about explosives?" he queried.
"Beyond what I picked up in weekend jaunts with Alistair? Hand grenades and a little C-4, no," she answered quite seriously.
His eyes grew wider gradually while he considered her. "I had been joking, actually. You have been busy," he said, clucking his tongue with something more like worry than outright dismay. It was that tone that wonders if you know the person you are standing with.
She knew that look on his face. The 'we have just been joined by the ghost of boyfriends past' look. "Sorry," she told him.
"Just remember," he said distractedly. "You are the one who brought him up this time."
With that frightening quickness he was given to, he pulled her in and kissed her. Then they spun on the spot slowly, his eyes open and scanning. Instantly, she knew, she was part of his ruse. And she tried not to resent it or the way their conversations hung half done. He was surveying things, weighing options. Finalizing his plan.
...
And it wasn't much of a plan. It was the same one she swore she and the Doctor had tried too often before. A bit of distraction. A bit of stealth. A bit of magic from the sonic screw driver. And then invariably, she knew, there would be that call to 'run!' There was a noticeable change, however. She was staring at her palm where the sonic screw driver lay, still amazed he had placed it there.
"They are going to be watching me, not you. I'll be the distraction this time." She looked into his eyes. The old dandy would have winked then and squeezed her arms reassuringly. The Fourth Him would have grinned like an imbecile and raked the back of his hand across his mouth. "You set the prisoners free," she heard this one say. This one. Her husband. Someone she felt she didn't always know. She had to remind herself that those other Time Lords were still in there.
She gulped in reply, but nodded. "And we meet back at the TARDIS," she managed. "This is the worst honeymoon I've ever had."
He looked derailed suddenly. His eyes turned all sad and thoughtful then. She poked him in the ribs with one hand while the other pocketed the screwdriver. "Gotcha," she told him with a smile. "I love you," she reminded them both.
His smile was answer enough.
He dug distractedly in his pockets as they slowly meandered towards the platform in the market center.
She felt her lungs tighten a bit in anticipation once they were separated. And then it all went to hell as it always invariably did. There was the unmistakable sound of beings swearing in aggravation at her husband. The rush of impatient footsteps. The clamor of people hitting the ground. She had to smile at that last one, hoping (and suspecting) that Venusian Karate was one of those things that had carried through in this iteration of this Time Lord. As she grabbed the first young slave from the back of the line and pulled him behind a booth, she tried to envision what Venusian Karate looked like when it involved a red handled brolly.
She freed all 6 Pelorians in less than a minute with only one minor scuffle from a Usurian. All the Pelorians hurried off running without a word of warning from her. She had to trust the Doctor would meet her as planned at the TARDIS, so she took off in the direction of the blue box.
She was the first one to clear the ornamental hedge that stood 50 yards in front of the TARDIS. Well, not clear exactly. The satchel she was still carrying caught on what was likely a representation of a bird's beak, and she tumbled across with an oath. She looked up and saw the Doctor following, tripping spectacularly.
"You are supposed to be the coordinated one," she reminded him with a groan as she rubbed at her tail bone.
"Yes. I was. And you never used to swear."
She huffed a few breaths, "I got old and foul mouthed apparently."
"One more thing to blame on the Brigadier?" he mused as he peeked over the hedge to make sure no one was following them.
She finished dusting herself off and lined herself up with the TARDIS like a track runner, ready to sprint. With a glance over her shoulder, she told him, "I take full responsibility for the foul language. He never cared for it, either." She waited two full beats and then reminded the Doctor. "And you are the one who brought him up this time."
The twitching smile on his face told her he was adding all of this insight to the play in his brain entitled, 'Sarah Jane and Alistair: The Break up.' "Still," he said, nonchalantly. "Language like that? No pudding for you tonight." He spared the time to wink at her.
She laughed a bit and considered him. He was back and knowable again. And remarkably cool considering a group of slavers was no doubt looking for them. "You've lost your hat," she chided.
"Nay! The fact that it is missing is purposeful." He looked around in every direction and saw none of the angered Usurians. No sign of the disturbance that had gripped their corner of the market a brief time before. With swift, jerky movements he was on his feet pulling her along towards the TARDIS. "Coast is clear," he said. "But let's move along quickly, eh?"
"The hat?" she reminded him.
"Precision disc that hat. I shall miss it. And the umbrella. Bent beyond recognition that one."
"What do you mean about a precision disc?"
"Those hats are perfectly weighed. I can fling them for meters."
"Ah ha!" she said, joyously. "I bet you chucked it someplace down an alley to throw them off."
"Exactly! But they should have exhausted that little dead end by now..... so...."
"I know," she said, quickening her pace. "Run!!"
And with perfectly matched strides, they churned up the remaining meters to the ship's door.
///
Three Pelorian fellows were hiding behind the TARDIS. Sarah Jane's nerves were raw enough that she screamed when she saw them. Realizing it was the slight blue creatures who were being held captive, and not the Usurian slavers, she clamped a hand over her mouth and looked sheepish.
"Well, get in," the Doctor said to everyone with impatience. The three creatures, two large and one small, walked in with a flushed Sarah Jane trailing.
The Doctor closed the door quickly and headed to the console, talking hurriedly as he went. "There were 6 of you. Where are the others?"
"Ran off. Looking for transport," the tallest answered.
The small one was squealing and pointing at Sarah Jane, but like most children, he found himself in the place of being ignored.
"Why can't I understand him?" Sarah Jane said as she eased closer to the small blue fellow.
"Because," the Doctor said. "He isn't talking. He is crying."
"Is he hurt?"
"He wanted to come here. With you. He said you were hurt," the large Pelorian said.
"I'm fine," she told the little fellow. "Really. Landed on my.... well, never mind. But I'm fine." She turned her attention to the Doctor again. "Where are we taking them?"
"Their home planet. I need time data," and he motioned to the tall alien to join him at the console.
The small one's squealing got louder now that he felt fully ignored. He moved closer to Sarah Jane and while she tried to comfort him, he bent over and began tugging on her pant leg.
And they heard his first clear words then. "Tentacles. Usurian's."
The Doctor froze for a second before clamoring to Sarah Jane's side. He crouched down and pulled up the pant leg himself to expose a red welt.
"Sarah Jane?" he said quietly in a voice that worried her.
"The slaver at the end of the line saw me. He was angry. He started to change from humanoid to that seaweed stuff. Like you said they could. I cranked the sonic screwdriver to see if that would bug him. It did, but not enough. I smacked him with the bag I was carrying, and I ran off. With this fellow near by," she said indicating the young alien.
"But the Usurian got you in the ankle before you made off."
"Poisonous fungi," Sarah said, ominously echoing the Doctor's earlier description.
"This is all my fault," he said quietly. He stood up and without warning, lifted Sarah Jane into his arms.
"We're going to the infirmary?"
"Smart girl. Now lie still," he told her as he trod through the door and down the corridor. Sarah Jane peeked round the Doctor's shoulder and was not surprised that the young Pelorian was following them.
///
"It doesn't even hurt," she insisted from her spot on the infirmary's exam table.
"Oh, not yet," the Doctor said, as he busied himself with a box full of supplies. "There is an initial anesthetic property to the tentacle's venom. Like with a mosquito's bite."
"Speaking of mosquitoes...." she trailed off as she sat up to scratch at her leg.
"It's starting to itch," he finished for her.
Her husband grabbed her foot and pulled it away so she couldn't reach it. Then he produced a knife and without warning, slit her pants up to her waist.
The little fellow and Sarah Jane both squealed in alarm.
"Duncan. Um, darling?" she tried. "I liked those pants."
"I'm more fond of you. I need to get this treated before it spreads." His hands were moving the whole time he was talking, searching up her leg. He grabbed the knife again and slit the other side of her pants. He checked that leg quickly, and then with jerky motions he had the remnants of her pants off her.
"I'm naked," she complained as she adjusted her underwear. "And we have company," she said indicating their young friend.
"He feels responsible for you. I figured it would be rude to ask him to leave."
"Right," she said sounding resigned and tired. "Let the the whole universe look at your wife in her knickers." She closed her eyes for a moment and let herself go limp against the exam table. A hand brushed at her hair and something warm nuzzled at her collar bone. Something too warm to be her husband.
'Robbie,' she decided his name was, with a sigh. And she gave him a pat to the back of his head. Well, if young Robbie was crooning reassuring sounding noises into her neck, at least he wasn't looking at her underwear, she reasoned.
Her eyes snapped open then when the cold antiseptic wash hit her. She was starting to be a bit concerned. There was no more banter from her husband. He was all business. Opening tubes of cream. Pulling long rolls of bandages out from a drawer with those fast, talented fingers of his.
He found a bottle of pills then and with a happy "A Ha!" opened it and handed it to 'Robbie.'
"Two. She gets two." The Doctor opened his mouth and pointed in. "Nasty tasting things. Make sure she swallows them." And he gave Sarah Jane a wink that made her feel a bit better.
Robbie was taking his duty quite seriously, she could see. He sat her up and poked the pills deep into her mouth one at a time. She gagged, and he shook his head at her, admonishing her to not dare cough them back up.
"I'm going to be alright?" she asked once she had recovered from the vile tasting pills.
"Of course."
"You got so quiet. I got worried."
"It's different," he said in a hushed voice as he leaned over her ankle and rubbed the creams in.
"Because we are married?" she asked gently.
"And because it's my fault. You wanted to stay put.... Alistair told me I would muck this up. Told me I shouldn't..."
In his anger he tore at the bandage rather violently.
"Dunc..."
"Sleep, Sarah Jane," he said too roughly. In a more conciliatory tone he told her, "Those pills and all these toxins in your body should be making you very tired."
"Not till you..." and she made a grab that connected with his lapel.
And he understood. And he congratulated himself on at least that much, that he knew what his wife needed from him then.
He kissed her and lingered there, his forehead pressed lightly against hers.
"You know?" she insisted.
"Yes," he rather grumbled.
"Say it," she said, as her eyes closed sleepily.
"You love me. You don't blame me."
"Right. And?" she teased with a drugged looking grin.
"And?" he asked, confused.
"You are a great kisser," she slurred. With a sloppy pull to his jacket she urged him to kiss her once more.
"We have company. Remember?" he told her once he had finished kissing her again. "Remember how you hate kissing me in your underwear in front of the whole universe?"
"Oh, yeah," she smiled and fell asleep.
///