Bernice had gotten up well-rested that morning. Extraordinarily so, given that the resting itself was tiring. The hours of the night she imagined Brax gazing up at her cheekily with his face gladly locked between her thighs had just felt so wonderfully realistic. On both ends.

Stealing Irving's shower not long after he left it, she was grateful to find that the TARDIS had left an extra set of towels, a bathrobe, and pretty much exactly her particular choice of soaps. The old girl really was quite openly accommodating for a sudden new part-time resident. Not something she took for granted.

Unlike him, she wasn't somehow instantly squeaky clean, dry and dressed up minutes after going in. Brax hadn't even needed a look in the mirror to know that his neck was already spotted with small purple bruises, and like her had taken to applying genetic binding ointment accordingly so they'd be healed by the time he had to start the day. Benny suspected the rest of his time getting ready would be spent perfectly combing his already naturally tidy hair, which he was now doing in front of the reflection from his vanity.

Bernice frowned.

She never knew how he felt about mirrors. There was the hall, of course- and no one so focused on aesthetics as him could avoid them. And what was any self-respecting Braxiatel without at least a little narcissism? ...But then there were the days- more frequent now that they shared the intimate hours- that she caught him, just barely, trying to avoid his own reflection. Glancing away from it where he could, glaring at it- and whenever he had to face himself head-on, a sliver of fear glinting back from the eyes in the glass.

He never let the uneasiness show, except in his eyes.

Those damn grey-blue eyes.

Pensive and charming, beautiful and hypnotising, cold and calculating, mournful and vengeful, deep and ancient. Striking. Yet, oh, so compassionate, just under the surface. There was still so much under those eyes that Benny didn't know, and likely never would- it was another of those reminders he wasn't human, few and far between that they were.

Bernice had an idea of why it was, why he feared the reflection. Of many possible whys. But she couldn't help him- not much, at least. He had his own monsters to face. And she'd gotten as far as she could in saving Brax from himself, from his mistakes, from what was inside him. The rest was entirely his battle.

Today she watched Braxiatel's reflection intently as she towelled herself off, trying to catch a glimpse of whether that was bothering him this morning, unlike last night where it clearly didn't, doing so much 'dancing' in the hall.

It didn't seem to be, but sometimes it was as small as an abnormal twitch, impossible to notice if you weren't looking closely for the signs. Or he could've caught on to her staring and was just putting on a brave face- and if anyone was good at putting on brave faces, it was Brax. Also, she couldn't quite tell if he was watching back and peeping at her. Which, given that she was standing naked in his bedroom would be something reasonable enough to expect.

Benny sighed and got her clothes from the drawer of them that she'd stashed here. Irving had hung the gown up alongside her second-best black jacket on one end of his wardrobe. The rest of it was occupied entirely by various suits. Three-piece, two-piece, summer, casual blazers, the silk one sometimes worn as pyjamas- black, grey, blue, tan, pinstripe- it was all there. She ran her hand over the fabric of one and huffed. It seemed ridiculous, but seeing them off of him felt almost as intimate as seeing him out of them.

For the most part, morning had been completely silent. Until she finally broke it while in the process of fastening her bra. She muttered to herself, then eventually got a word to him in, letting it awkwardly stumble past her lips.

"I'm gonna be going out- to do uh-...something. I dunno what, actually. Probably work? Shop for something? Maybe check on Peter- umm, well... anything to try and avoid looking at the news."

Brax nodded. "That's most likely a wise idea..." he commented grimly, his comb weaving through the salty streaks of hair in his mostly dark pepper before he finally set it down on the vanity with it perfectly straight, parted regally.

If The Notes had a good time with the pair of them in the Rabbit, every major tabloid for galaxies over would want to put their 'debut' somewhere. Probably even sensationalize what was for the most part a fairly unexciting few hours. At least with that dress, the optics could have a chance at being favourable.

Unless they decided it was too expensive and she was taking advantage of the oh-so-generous Mr Braxiatel.

Or that she was arm candy- though that was a more unlikely one. The media consensus generally smeared her as being too ugly and unpleasant compared to Jason with his porn career and high charisma. Even with the contention of Brax appearing to be an older man no matter how you sliced it, he was quite the silver fox.

Lastly, they could get exposed for nepotism. Which was half-true. She had all the skills for her job, an education, plenty of experience, a large body of published work, just general tenure- far beyond what most would require... but she'd also had the position of Head of Archaeology handed to her on a silver platter several times and the second-best suite in the mansionhouse all kept warm for her whenever she wanted them. Also more recently, a higher paycheck and fancy hotel rooms whenever there was a dig near enough a city since they'd gotten together.

Goddess.

After thinking about it, Benny put a hand to her face and shook her head. No. "Bollocks. Nevermind, not Peter- he's undoubtedly seen that already and is going to lecture me on how bloody embarrassing I'm being and that we're still setting ourselves up to fail. Maybe something other than first thing in the morning."

Straightening his tie, Brax made eye contact through the glass, suggesting something for her to do, a reminder before she could forget. "This week is the last chance you have to go off-world for anything longer than a day or two outside of work, with the start of term. You may wish to stretch your legs a bit before you're forced to sit down again."

She pulled her shirt on over her head and straightened it out. Yes, she decided. Irving was definitely looking. He seemed almost disappointed when Benny did it. She actually preferred it to him being afraid to look. In fact, that was flattery in her book, at least if it wasn't an act from someone naturally perverse. "Not a terrible idea either. Casual trip would be nice, but you got any 'missions' for me? Less strictly academic ones, I mean."

"A potential adventure, you mean? Perhaps I can scrape something up," Brax offered, somewhat reluctantly. He partially hired Roda on as a means to have Bernice stick closer to archaeology and do safer things. However, needs must. He couldn't break her restless nature, and adventure was her name.

Benny nodded, stretching after she'd pulled her jeans on and moaning slightly at the muscles' satisfying flex. "You're right though. I do... need fresh air. The grounds are wonderful, don't get me wrong, but restrictive. And nothing quite beats a new planet."

"Then ask and you shall receive. Come meet me again in an hour," he requested, passing by with a kiss on the cheek.

And, after a relaxing morning walk and a breakfast, she did just that, slipping through the doorway back to his rooms and immediately lazing at her favourite chair by Braxiatel's desk.

He looked up at her from his reading glasses, showing her a screen he'd already had waiting on hand. Sliding it over, he allowed her to swipe around and inspect his idea.

"I've analysed the properties of various Gallifreyan items in the archives of similar material to the Seal of Time and may have found a way to track it. Though we'll actually have to try to be sure my method works. There's a reading on a planet not terribly far from here- and signs of time anomalies in its vicinity. Named Vulcana Beta-6.E2f-Gamma. Or labelled that- I don't think it has an official colloquial name."

She huffed and leaned back in the chair, satisfied with his findings so far, and grateful for the concise explanation. "Bloody mouthful, but that certainly sounds like it. The translations Roda left on the more important notes in that textbook don't exactly suggest the area around a shard of it would be calm. Serious temporal leakage. Could be deadly."

He nodded. "Could also be insanity-inducing. Or trigger total erasures. And we both know quite how unpleasant that can be. We need to get ahold of it as soon as possible and put it safe under lock and key."

"Yes. I understand. Is there a tracker for on a more local level?"

"Given the correct parameters, this should do." He took a scanner of some kind out of his desk. Gallifreyan in origin, it was quite the large and clunky thing- probably a couple of pounds, and looked very old-school, to say the least. "Don't let the size fool you. This is an artron signature tracker. Usually, they're a feature of TARDISes, but I snagged this off the CIA."

Benny was tempted to make a snide remark about never letting size fool her, but held her tongue about that part. "I almost didn't recognize it as Time Lord. It also looks more like a primitive... well- it looks rather like a laser thermometer..." she muttered.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "The resemblance isn't lost on me..."

She sat up and clapped her hands against her thighs. "Guess I'm going then. Anything else I should know?"

Braxiatel rattled off the basic rundown of the planet. "Earth-like gravity, for the most part, slightly heavier. 1.2 EN. Oxygen-rich atmosphere. Humid, warm. And, well- there is a risk. The government over there isn't known to be particularly nice. Be careful, Benny," he warned.

She rolled her eyes. She'd end up in some sort of trouble. That was just her luck. "You know me- but I'll try, Brax. For you, this time. Just don't worry. But I'll call if anything's up, like I promised?"

He sighed in relief before gaining a more formal air. "Thank you. Get ready, and I'll see you out at the docking bay?"

Benny took the device- even heavier than she thought, and carried it with her out of the room. Scratch a couple of pounds, it was more like six. How this would be practical as a small, portable device, she had no idea. For all she knew, Braxiatel could've gotten ahold of it with nobody noticing because it was just flat-out too obsolete to bother.

Bernice had prepared a satchel of supplies along with the tracker by the time she reached the docking bay. Irving was somehow already waiting for her, a tall recognizable figure even from the far-off entrance. He always had a way of getting to places in periods so brief it made no sense, even if his TARDIS wasn't involved.

She ran up to where he was waiting by one of the single-seater hyperdrive pods and hugged him, which he responded to with an arm around her and a kiss on the forehead.

"Enjoy your trip, Benny- don't get hurt," he said as they split.

"I will, Brax."

Right before she closed the pod, Bernice hesitated and stepped back out. Seemingly spur of the moment, she did something unusual- taking Braxiatel's hand and rolling up his cuff slightly to plant a kiss on the inside of his left wrist.

Why, she didn't know. But it felt like she had to.

Irving looked at his wrist, somewhat startled. It was like she did know. Lately, there had been an itching, the phantom of something there that didn't exist. But now, instead of pain remembered in a scar from another world, here it was love remembered in strawberry chapstick. Like stitches on a wound. He wasn't sure what to say to that, so instead, Brax pulled her into another quick kiss before breaking it up.

"I love you, Benny."

"Love you too, Brax. I'll see you soon."

Bernice smiled warmly as she got back into the pod. The door sealed itself shut and Braxiatel stepped back to the docking bay as it took off, engines roaring. It seemed only an instant before he blinked and it was gone, disappeared into the ether when the hyperdrive went off.

Irving's fingers idly tapped rhythmically on the mahogany of his desk while he read this week's finances report, tediously dull as ever, as a shot up his nerves left his hand painfully tingling.

'Good morning, Braxiatel.'

Ah.

He felt the tingling, a tugging to get his hand to do what the spirit wanted- but it didn't move an inch. He lifted his left arm with intent and practice in response, the movements controlled and graceful. And almost as quickly as it came, the tingling faded.

Braxiatel grinned at its aura of confusion.

"I see you wanted some power over me today. But I'm afraid my hand already belongs to another woman, in a manner of speaking."

That lipstick mark. Still there, him not quite feeling the need to wash it off earlier- it maintained his control. Of course, the effect was all in his head, a placebo, completely useless to any real illness. Which meant it was exactly what he needed.

'Benny is your weakness, stop lying. You can't lie to me. You can't lie to yourself.'

"Oh, that's where you're wrong. Benny is my weakness, yes- but she's also my strength. And I believe lying to myself is something I'm particularly good at." If any of his interactions with himself were anything to go by, at least.

'Ha- is that what you really think?'

"Yes. I very much do."

'She cannot be your strength. Not when you'd sacrifice yourself for her. Not when you'd die in her arms.'

He seemed fairly disinterested, returning to his work and speaking to her at the same time, adjusting the half-moon spectacles that he didn't actually need accordingly. "I have always done anything I could to keep Benny alive. You just didn't notice. You're so ignorant. But what I would do for her, she has already done for me. Getting closer was a possible outcome this whole time- albeit unlikely."

'Yes... Getting closer. Do you have a fun time leaving the reflexive equations behind to bring all your conscious thought into someone else's mind? Isn't it... cramped?'

"Of course, you would be the one to ask," he sneered.

'You were a high-class Time Lord, and it's not exactly spacious in here anymore. How many functions do you need to shut off in order even to fit while connected to a human?' it mused.

He straightened his cufflinks and rolled his eyes in annoyance. "It's quite obviously not spacious because you're confined, creature." He paused, a smirk playing across his lips. "To fit enough in Bernice, pardon the double entendre, certainly not the functions necessary for strong emotion or detailed sensory input, if you must know. Much of my intellect may be left behind with you as your jailer, but something simple and not horrifically nightmarish once in a while is quite the relief."

He heard it laughing at him.

'You have been getting up to naughty things indeed.'

He swallowed and rested his chin on folded hands, looking tired as he peered into the warped reflection of the gilded office lamp. "Well... As few times that we can have a sadistic voyeur watching, the better."

The creature was clearly amused.

'You wound me, Braxiatel. Could we perhaps play another game?'

He knew just the thing, and huffed. "How about a little rematch in chess, hmm?"

'I wouldn't have it any other way...'

Irving Braxiatel chuckled as he reached for the drawer with the board. Oh, this was going to be fun for once.

"Just know that I'm the one moving the pieces this time."