Perfume

Chapter Five: Escape

By Rhondda Lake

"Well that went well." The Doctor grinned at Rose.

She answered with a glare. Usually she appreciated his sense of humour. But not when the blood flow was cut off from her fingers and they were standing on a large pile of kindling. "Oh yes, being burnt at the stake as demons is much preferable to being drawn and quartered, or boiled in oil."

He shrugged as much as he could, considering the ropes holding him to his own personal post were pretty snug. "Well, yeah, all things considered. Less time to come up with a plan B."

"There's a plan B?" Rose knew the Doctor's sense of planning. There was rarely a plan A.

"Pretty much, yeah. Hope Jack is all clear and coming up with it 'bout now." The Doctor looked out at the crowd slowly gathering in the dark courtyard before them.

Rose shook her head. She'd feel a little better if they had been tied together. Then she could at least hold the Doctor's hand, if she could feel her fingers. But they were each honoured with their own individual stakes, a few feet separating them.

"Didn't anyone warn you that showing a primitive civilization that their monarch is a cyborg clone is not gonna go over well? They don't even know what a cyborg is." Rose looked over the pale green, noseless faces looking back at her with fear and hatred. Angry mob, check. Pitchforks and torches, check. "Do you think the real queen is still alive?"

"Don't know. Whoever set this up might have kept her as a bargaining chip if their little toy failed. But it would be just as easy to kill her. Less fuss."

The Doctor seemed to be standing perfectly still. His eyes locked with Rose's and she felt the reassurance he was trying to send. Silly, really, to be reassured with a look when she was trussed up like a Christmas goose and waiting for someone to start a giant bonfire under her. Too bad there were no S'mores. Was that just two days ago?

Best to keep her mind off all those flaming torches out there. "So any idea who planted the fake queen?"

The courtyard was almost full now, and the guards were pressing the alien throng back more than watching their tied-up prisoners.

"Well the only thing this planet has of value is a pretty potent but rare fungus used to make a highly addictive narcotic in the Pythian system. Worth a fortune on the black market. And seeing as Miss Sparky was pretty consistent with current Pythian technology…" the Doctor's bindings seemed to slacken a bit and he looked over at Rose with one of his manic grins.

She felt a rush of adrenaline. She could see he had managed to work himself loose and was just holding the ropes behind him to keep up the pretence. He probably learned escapism from Houdini himself. There would be no living with him now.

"You mean all this is because of a bunch of drug runners? That just seems so…" she shook her head, her eyes never leaving the Doctor's face.

"Disappointingly mundane? Yeah. But if you haven't noticed yet, many evil plots always lead back to somebody's profit margin. Greed is a universal variant." His eyes broke away from her and looked up to the courtyard wall. Rose gaze moved to where he seemed to be looking. There was a small flashing red light. And since this planet was still using candles and oil type lamps that could only mean...

Suddenly blue smoke erupted somewhere in the centre of the crowd, then to the side, and from someplace way in the back.

"Rose, hold your breath," the Doctor looked back to her just as the crowd noticed the smoke.

Already people were dropping, slumping to the ground. More smoke plumes started and panic barely had a chance to start. The guards were trying to look for the source of the smoke but were being overcome as well.

Rose saw a metal canister fall to her left, smoke spewing from it. The chemical sting made her eyes water and she tried to hold her breath against the gas. The Doctor had stopped pretending to be tied and had moved behind Rose. She could feel him cutting her bonds with something.

There were few people still coughing and moving as Jack came running towards them, a small, clear gas mask covering his nose and mouth. "Someone call for a ride?"

Rose let out a choking laugh and felt the gas tickle her throat. She couldn't hold her breath much longer. Her vision was already narrowing, like she was looking down a tunnel. Jack was climbing up the wood pile and reaching towards her with a gas mask when everything went dark.

The first thing Rose was aware of was that she was lying on her back. Something was pressed over her mouth and nose, and cool air was rushing up her nostrils, drying out her sinuses. A familiar, cool hand was grasping hers. Then she heard the voices.

"I had to make sure they were all out. It wasn't like it was an enclosed space." Jack sounded defensive.

"Humans have died from an overdose of fentanyl. And you tossed a grenade full of it practically at her feet," the Doctor snapped back.

"Yeah well it was kinda hard to get a good aim with all the other gas grenades going off. I could barely make out where you two were. And I brought masks for you."

Uh oh, this sounded like it could get ugly. Rose opened her eyes to see the sterile white ceiling of the infirmary.

"It burns the eyes too," her voice sounded muffled by the breathing mask she had on.

Both men looked at her in surprise and relief. She tried to sit up but the room decided to sway dangerously. Nope, wasn't the room.

"Give it a bit. The oxygen will flush the last of it out of your lungs," the Doctor's eyes crinkled at the corners, softening as he looked down at her.

"So that was plan B, eh? Not too bad. And no one got hurt, right?" She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Nope, but there'll be some nasty headaches when they start waking up." Jack looked rather proud of his successful rescue.

The Doctor shot Jack a dark look that would have withered lesser men.

What was wrong with him? The plot to surreptitiously take over the Hamaricjian monarchy was exposed, they got away, and no one died. The Doctor should have been giddy.

Rose managed to sit up on the second try. "Jack, give us a minute, will you?"

Jack glanced from Rose to the Doctor and back before nodding and backing out the door.

"You alright?" She tugged at their joined hands to make the Doctor focus on her.

"Fantastic." He offered her a grin that didn't quite go to his eyes. He released her hand and grabbed a spray of some sort and misted her wrists where the skin was chaffed red from the rough rope.

"Jack did good. Why were you all over him then?" Rose tried to meet his eyes, but he was avoiding looking at her.

She pulled the oxygen mask off and touched his arm, feeling the cool leather under her palm.

"Just worried was all. Not like I wanted to train up a new companion when I just got you all broken in," he finally met her eyes and smirked a bit.

"Take more than a bit of gas to get rid of me. You should know that by now." Rose pushed a lock of hair out of her face. It felt kind of nice that he was that worried, but it wasn't fair to take it out on poor Jack.

"Rose, I…" The Doctor caught himself and just looked at her, as if he were committing every line of her face to memory.

She felt flushed under such intense scrutiny, and her stomach fluttered as she caught a glimpse of something deep and even possessive in the Doctor's blue eyes.

"You… what?" She shook her head slightly, urging him to continue.

"Nothing. Just want you staying right here till the dizziness fades. Can't have you escape being burnt at the stake only to fall and break your neck at home, right?" Whatever was in his eyes was pushed down. He offered her defensive humour instead.

"Doctor's orders? Okay, I get it." She lat back down. "You need to work on that bedside manner, though."

"My bedside manner's perfect, I'll have you know. Don't want people getting all comfy in here, wanting to spend more time hanging about." He hopped up on the medical bed beside her and nudged her lightly with his shoulder.

"Which explains the boring white walls and smell of disinfectant. And why does it smell of disinfectant?" She frowned as she looked at him, a line appearing between her brows.

"Maybe cause you expected it to. Plus not a very pleasant smell. Goes with the bedside manner."

Rose felt his hand slide along her own then. Larger, rougher fingers twined with hers. His cool palm pressed to her warm one. He pulled and brought their joined hands up to his mouth, not quite brushing his lips against the knuckles of her hand, but she would feel his warm, moist breath brush across her skin.

"Unlike you. You smell really good. All warm and inviting."

Rose wished her heart wouldn't falter like that, and the butterflies wouldn't beat furious wings in her stomach. Because she knew he didn't mean anything by it. He had no idea how he sometimes affected her. He might play at flirting a bit, but he always backed off and let her know by his manner that friendship was all it was, and would ever be. She could content herself with that, really should could. Because he was the closest and best friend she ever had. Wanting anything more was futile, and frustrating, and bound to make her miserable. So when she got all flustered and tingly by some innocent thing he did, some touch given, or look that made her melt inside, she had to come up with her own defence mechanism.

"Ha. I knew you liked the perfume." She teased him back.

"It's better than disinfectant, anyway." He let go her hand and jumped back down from the seat. He looked flushed, and he wasn't looking at her again. Something was up. "I'm going to go make sure the proper authorities get a message about the Pythian drug cartel's latest move. They can track down the so called genius behind this plot, and with any luck, turn up the real queen. If she's even alive. You stay there until you are certain you're heads all clear."

"Right. Gotcha. Stay right here until I feel better or die of boredom."

He left without another word.

That little line reappeared between Rose's eyebrows as she contemplated the door.