CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Intimate Friendship

Amy's feet hurt. She wasn't sure how that was supposed to work. They weren't really her feet; she was asleep in the Tardis right now. This was just her mind here. But her mind's feet were killing her, and everything around her looked exactly the way it had an hour, a day, a week ago. It was hard to tell how much time passed here, but she was sure she'd been walking forever.

"What are we even looking for?" she demanded, irritated. "We've been walking down this hall forever. Are we getting any closer?"

"Yes," Charley answered confidently. "These places are unfamiliar."

"And that's a good thing? Or does it just mean we're lost?"

"We're not lost."

Amy frowned, but remained quiet for a minute, letting her mind wander back over what she had seen so far. They had been in and out of a few rooms, but there was one in particular that was still at the front of her mind: The one that had brought them closest to what they were looking for.

"Why was the Doctor covered in blood?"

Charley's eyes saddened as the shadow passed over her face. But she looked away, not answering.

"Was that even the Doctor?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? Because it didn't feel like him."

"I saw him change. I was there..."

"What do you mean you were there?" Amy eyed her warily. "I thought you didn't remember."

"I didn't. But I'm beginning to."

"How? I mean, you're not even real. Well, you know what I mean. You're just a filing program in the Doctor's mind. How can you have memories of your own?"

"I was real, once. He modeled this hypostasis after a woman who was very real."

"Who?" Amy's eyes never left her, staring at her as if she might suddenly transform into something else before her eyes. "Who are you? I mean... who were you? Really."

"You mean you haven't figured that out yet?"

Amy frowned. "No."

Charley studied her for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Come on, then. I'll show you."

*X*X*X*

"I thought you were sleeping."

Charley ran a hand through her dark, dyed hair and rubbed her bleary eyes as she paused at the entrance to the living room. "I was sleeping," she answered. "I had a nightmare."

The Doctor was lying on the sofa, relaxed with his feet up on the arm. It didn't matter that it was three o'clock in the morning. He never seemed to sleep. And in spite of that restlessness that consumed him more often than not, he seemed to be quite content to spend these nights in her living room, sitting quietly in the dark, with or without a cup of tea and a book.

He didn't get up as she came closer. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I'm fine," she assured him, sitting down on the chair across from him.

He reached out a hand toward her, palm up. "Come here."

For several long seconds, she hesitated. Then, finally, she stood and took a slow step forward. He smiled knowingly as her fingers brushed his - that coy and smug smile that made it seem as if at that particular moment, he had the whole universe under his control. It was in his eyes, too, as he pulled her gently by the hand. He drew her down until finally, he locked their fingers together, pressed her hand to the back of the sofa, and leaned up, bringing his lips to hers. Her breath caught as he kissed her, slow and closed and gentle, then finally pulled back to smile up at her. His tone was even more teasing than usual - he always seemed to carry a bit of that smug tone - as he squeezed her hand gently and raised his other hand to her waist. "Closer."

She laughed tensely. "If I get any closer, I'll have to sit on top of you."

"Yes, that's rather the idea."

For just a moment, she wasn't sure how to respond. Then, hesitantly, she braced herself on the back of the sofa and perched on the edge. But he pulled on her hand, slowly but firmly, until she finally lost her balance and fell onto his chest with a laugh. "Doctor!"

"Lie with me," he smiled back at her.

"There's no room!"

"There's plenty. Lie on top of me."

"On top of you!"

"Yes."

She raised a brow, he mirrored her look, and for a moment the two of them just stared at each other before finally, slowly, she leaned down, bracing her weight on the sofa as much as she could. He noticed quickly. "Let your weight rest on me."

"I don't want to crush you."

He laughed heartily at that. "You're hardly going to crush me, Charley. Now, will you please just relax?"

She rolled her eyes. "Relax, he tells me."

"Yes, and I meant it, too."

Nose to nose, smile to smile, she felt his hand close around the wrist that was supporting her weight, and he pulled her hand gently out from under her, guiding it. "Lay your head on my chest," he instructed. "And put your hand..." The hand around her wrist guided it inside of the top few open buttons on his shirt until her fingers rested lightly against his chest. "There. See?"

She relaxed slowly, letting her weight gradually settle over top of him. As she relaxed, he slowly moved his hands from hers and embraced her loosely, fingers stroking softly at the small of her back. Without thinking, her fingers slowly fell into the same easy rhythm. She could hear his heartbeat under her ear, and pressed her palm flat to feel it on the other side.

"That's strange."

"What is?"

She giggled softly. "Your heartbeats. Just out of sync."

His fingertips tapped her spine in the rhythm of four she could hear and feel.

"You said you have two hearts. I mean, I know you do. But it's strange to feel them both beating at the same time."

"It's strange to feel your one," he answered softly, fingers slowly stroking again. "I don't know how you humans do it."

"We humans," she repeated quietly. She couldn't quite contain her smile. "There you go again with your Time Lord superiority complex."

"Well, I can't help it."

"Oh, can't you?"

"Hardwired into my genetic makeup, I'm afraid."

"And with a race named 'Time Lords', who would've guessed?"

He hugged her a bit tighter and she smiled as she nuzzled against him, slowly allowing her fingers to explore over his chest. As she did, she could feel his fingers moving gradually up along her spine, then back down, smoothing over her back. He breathed deep, his chest rising and falling beneath her, and she closed her eyes.

The silence that lingered was calm and relaxing - intimate, in a way, with his hands slowly moving over her. He avoided any particularly intimate places, nothing overtly sexual. But there was something so warm and soothing about his touch, it melted her. She breathed deep as she let her mind wander, fingers tracing lightly over his collarbone, over his shoulder. There was no particular direction to her thoughts, just quiet relaxation.

"Do you know something?"

His voice was soft and gentle, barely a break in the silence that had settled all around them. She didn't bother to exert any effort in her response. "Hmm?"

His hand moved to her head, the other continuing its slow stroking over her back as he slowly drew her hair aside, baring her neck to the cool air. His gentle touch followed, gently waking the sensitive nerves, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You really are beautiful."

She couldn't have kept the smile off her lips if she tried. "And you really are a romantic at heart."

"Mmm." It wasn't a disagreement. He tipped his head down, closer to her ear as he continued in a whisper. "Every inch of soft skin, every hidden, secret place..." He traced up her spine lightly, and her back arched almost involuntarily at the tickling sensation. "Every peak and valley."

She sighed softly. Definitely a romantic at heart. She wouldn't have guessed it - not at first. A penchant for danger and a bit of a restless streak, he hadn't struck her as the type. But the more she knew him, the more she recognized it. It was the way he saw the world - in vivid color and fluid poetry. He was a bit posh and plenty sophisticated when the situation called for it, but left to his own devices, he might have found himself most comfortable with the starving artists. Behind closed doors, there was a side of him that few people ever saw. And she loved him.

"Do you know something else?"

"Hmm?"

He turned his head until his lips were just brushing her ear as he whispered, "This is just about as close as my people come to making love."

"Seriously?"

"That's hard for you to believe?"

"Well, it's just so... simple."

He laughed softly. "Well, to be fair, there is a bit more to it. But not in the way you're thinking. Physical contact isn't the focus."

She paused for a moment, then looked up at him. "What is, then?"

He watched her calmly, eyes wandering over her face, fingers following as he traced her jaw, the ridge of her cheekbone, down to her lips. "Would you like to see?"

"Is that an invitation?"

"Yes."

She smiled as she nuzzled gently against his hand, then leaned own, brushing his lips with her own. He returned the kiss, sliding his hand back into her hair. "Relax," he whispered into her mouth.

"Oh, I'm very relaxed."

He smiled. "Relax your mind. As if you were trying to go to sleep."

"To sleep?" She laughed. "That's hardly -"

"Just trust me."

She took a deep breath, eyes closed, and focused on the darkness, well aware of the soft kisses he was leaving on her mouth and chin and jaw, and the hand he'd gently placed over her eyes. She giggled softly as he reached a particularly sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

"I'm not exactly going to be able to go to sleep when you're doing things like that."

"Like what?"

She giggled again, and squirmed as his tongue probed the sensitive spot. "Like that!"

"I haven't been doing anything to you for several minutes."

Startled, her eyes flew open instinctively and the illusion was gone. He was lying passively beneath her, arms under his head, smile on his face. Confused, she blinked a few times. "How did you do that? Is it like... mind control?"

"Hardly." He reached up and brushed her hair back from her face. "I merely opened the pathway between your mind and mine. Your brain tries to make sense of foreign sensation - the places I'm accessing - and relates it to something you've experienced."

She stared, dumbfounded.

"If you were Gallifreyan, your mind would've met me halfway and the experience would be mutually inclusive."

"I see." She paused for a moment to consider his words. "Is it something I can learn to do?"

"To some extent."

"I should like to try."

"It'll take time."

"Convenient. That seems to be the one thing we have a lot of."

He smiled, smoothing his hand over her shoulder and down her back, leaning up to kiss her again, slow and gentle. As she slowly withdrew, she took a moment to search him before she spoke softly, with a smile of her own. "I don't suppose you know how we make love on my home planet?"

He laughed outright at that. "Yes, Charley, as a matter of fact I know quite well."

"Oh?" Curious, she raised a brow. "How well?"

"Would you like to see?"

There was a smile on his lips, but his eyes were glinting in a way that somehow, out of nowhere, made her womb clench. She had to swallow hard before she was able to answer him, surprised by the squeak in her own voice. No matter how many times they did this, it was always so exciting.

"Is that an invitation?"

His smile grew. The look in his eyes darkened, almost predatory as he slid a hand back into her hair, tightened his grip just enough to make her gasp in surprise, and pulled her down into a much deeper kiss.

*X*X*X*

It took a trip into the Doctor's memories of a former lover to make Amy realize that she wasn't really as voyeuristic as she'd once been. Or maybe it was just because it was the Doctor, and that made it feel an awful lot like watching her brother. Either way, she was relieved when the scene faded to black before it got too involved, and left her standing in the hallway with Charley. For a moment, Charley didn't even seem to realize she'd returned. She was checking doors, listening through them, pausing, then walking to the next one. Amy studied her curiously for a moment before coming closer.

"So you were a... girlfriend?"

"Hmm?" Charley glanced at her.

"That memory," Amy said, gesturing over her shoulder in the general direction she'd come. "You and the Doctor. You were his girlfriend once."

"I was a bit more than that," Charley corrected, her tone as modest as she could make it. She was still walking slowly, checking each of the doors.

"His wife, then?" Amy was probably supposed to be surprised by that, but she wasn't. After all, it wouldn't be the only time in the Doctor's ridiculously long life that he got married. Although the thought of him marrying an ordinary human took a bit of imagination.

"Yes, Amy. Among other things."

"Other things?"

Finally, Charley turned her attention to Amy and gave her a pleasant smile. "I was also the mother of his children."

Amy's eyes widened.