A/N: not really a long chapter but I think this is a good place to leave
off for now.
He pushed all of the light sheets off himself and realized for the first time he was wearing no cloths. He quickly covered himself with the sheets and walked to what looked like a crudely made dresser. He opened one of its three drawers and saw that there were shirts clearly meant for a woman. He assumed that the other drawers would hold such articles of clothing as these shirts so he did not bother to open them.
There must be some sort of clothing he could wear, and were had she put his cloths. He didn't like this clearly this was some kind of joke on his part and he didn't like it. He was going to have to have a severe talk with this woman when she got back. He waited. She didn't walk into the door. Well, this was not going to happen.
He sat on the bed huffily what was he going to do. He didn't know how to survive out here. This girl was obviously his only link to survival, and as he hated to admit it his only link to fresh cloths. This really was a thin sheet, and although he had it tightly wrapped around him you could still see the outline of his body. Then he thought, oh my, you could see the outline of his body, which meant that the girl could to when she was changing his dressings, and Rassilon burn in the Nether regions he didn't even have the sheet on him. Damn it all to the Nether regions.
He heard the squawking of something outside and quickly doubled up the sheet and wrapped it around his torso, at least that, he mused, she couldn't see. She walked into the cabin with a small parrot on her forearm, gently feeding it a kind of date. He glared at her.
"What's that look for." She asked him monotonically
" You have left me in here without any cloths." He continued to glare at her. He pointed toward the drawers. "Those are all women's cloths, what sort of joke is that."
She let out a long huff of air, and just looked at him. " Did you even look in those bottom two drawers? All of my cloths only fit in those first two, the bottom drawer is what's left of my father's cloths."
He gave short and indecisive puft of air. " You mean to tell me that all of your cloths fit in those small drawers. Poppycock, you have to have more than that. And what your fathers cloths doing in this room anyway, isn't this your hut, wouldn't he have a separate one." He stopped, but only because she was staring at him. " Why are you staring like that?" There was something in her eye, and he moved forward to see it closer; it was a tear. He had only seen a couple of people cry and they had all been in hysterics but this was different. She had such a calm on her face. He moved forward to wipe it off her eye but it streaked down her cheek and landed on her shirt. "Did I cause it?" He had the greatest mathematical mind in this ten thousand year period, but no sense of emotion; well if you didn't count hate.
She didn't answer by words but she bowed her head, although no more tears fell. He had caused it but what had he said. They were simple words of criticism, no harm in it. She lifted her head back up and moved toward the dresser, she knelt down and opened the last drawer and pulled out the cargo pants like her shorts, same material and style, and a shirt that might once have been a dress shirt, but just a little dingier.
Now his curiosity had peeked, he needed to know what was it that had made her react the way she did to his words. Could it be that other over reactive emotions were stirred as well when he spoke to people. Hmm, perhaps; this might actually be worth looking into. Right now though hw would concentrate on her; which led to another question what was her name.
" Here are some cloths." He looked down at them skeptically. "I am not sure that they will fit for certain but you look the right size for them." He held the pants to his hips. "Yes, they just might." He backed off not used to people touching him. "My aren't we just a bit jumpy?"
"I am not used to people touching me! Is that a problem!"
"Your not that only one you know." She stared at him. "That's no excuse to be jumpy. I think there's something there that just doesn't let you want to be touched." His face flinched.
"What's it any business of yours?" He spat those words out fast and without a lot of meaning.
"Fine if it's to mean no never mind to me then I will leave. Your shirts are in that drawer too." She walked deliberately out the door.
No! He didn't want her to leave, he wanted to talk to her; but how would he get her back in the room without losing that bit of authority he had gained. He felt something in his ribs erupt and he stumbled to the dresser grabbed the cloth covering it and fell to the floor with a loud crash.
A/N: so how did you like. I hope you did like it. Well review and tell.
He pushed all of the light sheets off himself and realized for the first time he was wearing no cloths. He quickly covered himself with the sheets and walked to what looked like a crudely made dresser. He opened one of its three drawers and saw that there were shirts clearly meant for a woman. He assumed that the other drawers would hold such articles of clothing as these shirts so he did not bother to open them.
There must be some sort of clothing he could wear, and were had she put his cloths. He didn't like this clearly this was some kind of joke on his part and he didn't like it. He was going to have to have a severe talk with this woman when she got back. He waited. She didn't walk into the door. Well, this was not going to happen.
He sat on the bed huffily what was he going to do. He didn't know how to survive out here. This girl was obviously his only link to survival, and as he hated to admit it his only link to fresh cloths. This really was a thin sheet, and although he had it tightly wrapped around him you could still see the outline of his body. Then he thought, oh my, you could see the outline of his body, which meant that the girl could to when she was changing his dressings, and Rassilon burn in the Nether regions he didn't even have the sheet on him. Damn it all to the Nether regions.
He heard the squawking of something outside and quickly doubled up the sheet and wrapped it around his torso, at least that, he mused, she couldn't see. She walked into the cabin with a small parrot on her forearm, gently feeding it a kind of date. He glared at her.
"What's that look for." She asked him monotonically
" You have left me in here without any cloths." He continued to glare at her. He pointed toward the drawers. "Those are all women's cloths, what sort of joke is that."
She let out a long huff of air, and just looked at him. " Did you even look in those bottom two drawers? All of my cloths only fit in those first two, the bottom drawer is what's left of my father's cloths."
He gave short and indecisive puft of air. " You mean to tell me that all of your cloths fit in those small drawers. Poppycock, you have to have more than that. And what your fathers cloths doing in this room anyway, isn't this your hut, wouldn't he have a separate one." He stopped, but only because she was staring at him. " Why are you staring like that?" There was something in her eye, and he moved forward to see it closer; it was a tear. He had only seen a couple of people cry and they had all been in hysterics but this was different. She had such a calm on her face. He moved forward to wipe it off her eye but it streaked down her cheek and landed on her shirt. "Did I cause it?" He had the greatest mathematical mind in this ten thousand year period, but no sense of emotion; well if you didn't count hate.
She didn't answer by words but she bowed her head, although no more tears fell. He had caused it but what had he said. They were simple words of criticism, no harm in it. She lifted her head back up and moved toward the dresser, she knelt down and opened the last drawer and pulled out the cargo pants like her shorts, same material and style, and a shirt that might once have been a dress shirt, but just a little dingier.
Now his curiosity had peeked, he needed to know what was it that had made her react the way she did to his words. Could it be that other over reactive emotions were stirred as well when he spoke to people. Hmm, perhaps; this might actually be worth looking into. Right now though hw would concentrate on her; which led to another question what was her name.
" Here are some cloths." He looked down at them skeptically. "I am not sure that they will fit for certain but you look the right size for them." He held the pants to his hips. "Yes, they just might." He backed off not used to people touching him. "My aren't we just a bit jumpy?"
"I am not used to people touching me! Is that a problem!"
"Your not that only one you know." She stared at him. "That's no excuse to be jumpy. I think there's something there that just doesn't let you want to be touched." His face flinched.
"What's it any business of yours?" He spat those words out fast and without a lot of meaning.
"Fine if it's to mean no never mind to me then I will leave. Your shirts are in that drawer too." She walked deliberately out the door.
No! He didn't want her to leave, he wanted to talk to her; but how would he get her back in the room without losing that bit of authority he had gained. He felt something in his ribs erupt and he stumbled to the dresser grabbed the cloth covering it and fell to the floor with a loud crash.
A/N: so how did you like. I hope you did like it. Well review and tell.