What? Two updates in one week?

I binge wrote this chapter and was too impatient to wait until Monday. Cool beans.

I actually kind of like this chapter, the first half of it at least. There's a noticeable shift in tone about half way through. You'll know what I mean.

I feel like I need to point out that there are MONTHS separating this chapter and the previous arc. I'm kind of using stepping stones through her time with the Doctor because I need her at a certain point emotionally by the end of the next major arc, which will begin in the next chapter after this one.

Because of this, I had to sort of info dump her emotions and emotional development into one chapter. I'm not thrilled by how it turned out, but I wasn't sure how else to do it in one chapter.

Anywho - enjoy!

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Chapter Twenty Two: Dirt Dauber

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Gravel crunched faintly as I walked along the path. A cool spring breeze, blown in from across the seemingly endless fields on either side of the road caressed my cheeks and tossed loose strands of my hair about as it passed, carrying the scent of wheat and the heavy promise of rain. The song of crickets and birds twittering amongst the grass reached me, adding to the drowsy peace brought by the rolling hills and fading blue sky tinged with evening gold. It was so earthly, that if I closed my eyes and breathed deep, I could imagine that I was back home, sitting on the front porch, waiting for the lightning bugs to come out.

But I wasn't home. I was on Rasp, an alien world known for its notoriously peaceful trading post, uncreatively dubbed 'Centre'. The trading post was at the center of a massive no-fly zone called the Rasp Quarter, enforced by a forcefield dome that towered a mile high and twenty miles in diameter. The rules of the Quarter were fairly simple, if not inconvenient; no one was allowed to live within the dome, technology capable of transportation or discharge was strictly prohibited, there is to be no trading outside of the Centre, no theft, no bartering, and that was about it. Violations are punishable by death. Bit extreme, if you ask me, but effective.

A tiny spec of blue, situated at the very edge of the forcefield, stood out against the greyish smear of the main city, which surrounded the Quarter like the ocean did an island. I found myself walking faster despite my aching muscles and the twinges of pain echoing up from the heel of my left foot at every step.

The Doctor and I had landed on Rasp nearly two weeks earlier. While exploring an abandoned junkyard on a large moon in the Qud system, the Time Lord had found a strange bit of machinery. It was extremely damaged and missing pieces, but the Doctor had been entranced at finding something he wasn't immediately familiar with. He took it upon himself to repair the device, and therefore discover its original function.

Unfortunately, it was missing a vital piece, which apparently could only be found on Rasp. The TARDIS couldn't land within the forcefield, so he'd sent me, alone, across the Quarter to buy an Inter-electrical Frequency Harmonizer.

A few days alone on an alien planet wasn't nearly as daunting as it once would have been. While I walked, I occupied myself by trying to calculate how long I'd been traveling on the TARDIS. It was difficult to tell, but I estimated that it had been somewhere around eleven months since I'd met the Time Lord in a London alleyway during the Auton invasion.

The forcefield wavered as I passed through it. It felt cool on my skin, like I'd passed through a waterless shower, offering slight resistance as it checked me over for weapons or any other illegal substances.

The TARDIS, that wonderful blue box, loomed only a few meters beyond, leaving just enough space between it and the forcefield so as to not trigger any illegal transportation alarms. I rubbed the smooth wood of the door fondly, savoring the vibrations I felt through it as the rest of the ship hummed a greeting from within.

I slipped my key, which I was very proud of having, into the lock and let myself in. The familiar sight of the console room greeted me like an old friend. I sighed deeply and ambled inside, feeling some of the tension I'd been holding throughout the trip melt away.

"I'm back!" I announced to the Time Lord, who was exactly as I'd left him. Exactly, except with a lot more clutter clogging up the console room.

"Here comes trouble," the Doctor greeted good-naturedly. He was seated cross-legged on the floor beside the console, surrounded by a mass of wires, tools, and hunks of metal on all sides, giving the illusion of a funny-looking bird sitting at the center of a junkyard nest. Apparently he'd done as much as he could with the original project and moved on to several others. "Any problems?"

"Nah." I collapsed in the jumpseat, groaning tiredly as the pressure was taken off my aching feet. I frowned thoughtfully at the alien. "Have you moved at all?"

"What would I do that for?" he grunted, going back to his task.

"You're literally sitting in the exact same spot you were when I left."

"I've been busy."

"Seriously? Not even a little?"

"Like I said, busy."

"Not even to eat?"

He shot me an unimpressed look and jerked his head to indicate a variety of metallic food wrappers shoved into a pile a few feet from where he sat. "I've eaten."

"What about sleep?"

"Time Lord."

"Yeah, but you still have to."

"Well, obviously," he scoffed. "I'm not an android."

I frowned doubtfully, feeling a flicker of concern. "You're saying that you haven't slept since I left?"

The Doctor scowled. "Well, we can't all whittle away our lives in a shallow coma. Besides," he turned back to twisting wires together, "the Time Lord average between snoozes is a week. Three days is nothing."

"Three days? I've been gone almost two weeks!"

The Time Lord's head snapped up, blinking in surprise. "Two weeks?" He echoed. "Time flies, doesn't it?" His eyes narrowed skeptically. "What the hell were you doing for two whole weeks? It was only a three day journey... round trip!"

I sighed and sank lower into the worn leather, stretching my sore muscles. "On the way there I helped this woman and her kid take their stuff back home. Then they invited me to stop back by on my way back, and, well… I couldn't exactly say no."

"Sure, you could've," The Doctor scoffed, having buried himself back into whatever it was he was doing.

I shook my head stubbornly. "That's because you haven't tasted their Honeybloc Muffins. Oh, that reminds me…" I dug into my bag and produced a large muffin, wrapped neatly in some kind of alien aluminum foil that kept things fresh for months. "I brought you one back."

I tossed it at him and he caught it deftly with one hand. He set it to the side with the barest glance. "Thanks."

Attempting to ignore how tired I was, I rested my chin on my hands and frowned at my traveling companion. "Did you really not realize that I was a week and a half late?" I accused. "Thank God nothing bad happened. Who knows how long it would take for you to come looking for me."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Oh, quit your moaning. Nothing ever happens in the Rasp Quarter. Did you at least get what I sent you for?"

Muttering about how ironic it was that a Time Lord had so little concept of time, I dug out the object in question. It vaguely held the size and shape of a glass eye, but looked more like a large marble, inky black in color with tiny explosions of gold and ice blue tracing along its surface.

"This, right?" I held it up for him to see.

The Time Lord sprang to his feet and plucked it from my grasp. He studied it skeptically for a moment, then grinned. "Yeah. Perfect. Even if it did take bloody eons to get here."

"It's not like you'd know the difference."

The Doctor ignored me in favor of testing out his new toy. He bounded back over to the nest of wires and metal he'd created for himself and fumbled around rather clumsily for the device that he'd been working on when I first left. It was complete now, Y shaped and looking somewhat like the futuristic version of a divining rod.

He eagerly popped the glass ball into the fork of the device. The whole thing whirred to life, each tip of the rod glowing blue and the ball at the center illuminating dark purple, flecked with gold and blue.

"What is it for, again?" I inquired, watching bemusedly while the Doctor held the now operational machine this way and that, trying to figure out how it might work.

"Dunno," he responded cheerfully.

"Then how do you know it's finished?"

"Nine hundred years of technological experience," he retorted. "I think I can piece together a bit of 30th century junk. Plus, I'm clever."

I gave an exasperated groan and struggled to my feet. "Whatever. My job is done. I'm gonna go shower."

The Doctor wrinkled his nose impishly. "Good. I wasn't gonna say anything, but you smell terrible."

I smacked him playfully on the shoulder as I passed. "You need me for anything else?"

"Yeah. I need you to stop stinking up the TARDIS," he teased offhandedly. I snorted and started down the corridor, only to stop when he called me back. "Wait! Don't you want to see what it does?"

"I want my bed," I snipped, but came back anyway. I crossed my arms and looked up at him expectantly. "How do you know it's not a weapon?"

The Doctor smiled. "Wrong power cells. Ready?"

I nodded and the Doctor flipped a switch on the device's side. It came to life with a metallic whir. The lights lining the sides blinked frantically for half a second before settling into a regular pattern. The glass ball lit up, each colorful vein shining like a distant galaxy as it began to spin.

We both watched with bated breath. A moment passed. Two. Five. Nothing happened.

The Doctor frowned, twisting it around in his hands and shaking it beside his ear like he might be able to hear the problem.

"Is it broken?" I asked, staring at it skeptically.

"Don't think so." He scanned it with the sonic. "Seems to be working just fine."

"Maybe that's what it's supposed to do. It could be, like, decoration or something."

The Doctor scowled. "Well, that's a load of rubbish. I know everything's - " He broke off as the device sparked and let out a high-pitched whine. "Hold on - "

The room lurched to the side, sending me sprawling. I snagged onto the railing and fought to get back to my feet, grimacing against the sound of the cloister bell as it tolled out a warning. The Doctor darted from one control to the other, fighting his ship with one hand and keeping a tight grip on the unanimous machine with the other as it continued to spark.

"We've taken off!" The Doctor shouted over the din. "There's a competing matrix tapping into the TARDIS's navigational circuits!" The TARDIS roared mechanically and the strange device sparked angrily in response. "She doesn't like it!"

"Is that thing doing it?" I cried back, wedging myself between the railing and the jumpseat to stay upright as the time-ship continued to buck and tumble.

"Seems like it!"

"Then turn it off!"

"Can't!" The Doctor stumbled over and shoved the rod into my hands. "Hang onto this!"

"I don't want it!" I held it at arm's length. The thing sparked and the glass ball rolled angrily in its socket like the eye of a wild animal. "Doctor!"

The Doctor ignored me and went back to trying to bring the ship back under control, frantically pulling levers and pressing buttons with both hands. It seemed to go on for eons, but suddenly ended with a final thud. I lost my footing again at the jolt, falling on my back and managing to keep the alien device, and my head, from smashing on the floor.

The TARDIS settled with a few discontented grumbles before going into a quiet sulk. The device sparked a few more times above my head. Thankfully, the white hot sparks fizzled into nothing before they could scorch my face.

I sighed and sat up, shooting the Doctor a reproachful glare. He grinned cheekily at me from across the console before bounding over and plucking the rod out of my hands. It had calmed down as well, settling back into its original blinking pattern.

I heaved myself back to my feet, grumbling and rubbing at my backside ruefully. "Where are we? We landed somewhere new, right?"

"Yep!" The Doctor quipped cheerfully, turning the alien device over in his hands, grinning like a lunatic. "This little thing actually managed to commandeer the TARDIS's controls, pick out a location, and steer us there. Blimey! Can you imagine the ingenuity it would take to hack a TARDIS?"

"No," I chastised. "But I don't think that's a good thing!"

"Probably not," the Time Lord admitted.

"Is someone trying to break in?"

"Nah. Just a fluke." He held up the device and waved it around. "This is a sensor. It's programmed to detect something, and if whatever it's meant to find is too far away, on another planet, for example, it can latch onto the nearest intelligent matrix, plug in the coordinates, and steer it there. "

"What is it looking for?"

"Haven't the foggiest," the Doctor said, much more excited than the situation called for.

I sighed and crossed my arms. "Where are we?"

"Dunno. Let's find out, shall we?" He reached out a hand for me to take.

"I want a shower," I protested half-heartedly.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You can shower after." He wiggled his fingers invitingly. "Come on, it won't be as much fun on me own."

With another sigh, I took his hand. He beamed and laced our fingers together before dragging me to the doors.

I was blasted in the face by a gust of cool, wet air and tasted rain on my tongue. The place we had landed was empty. There were no trees, no buildings, no landmarks of any kind. We were surrounded, as far as the eye could see, by rolling plains of mud. Rain clouds boiled threateningly overhead, heavy with the promise of more rain. The ground was covered with thick, dark clay, churned up by a recent storm. Deep puddles of water collected here and there, spreading like small ponds that mirrored the rolling grey sky above.

The Doctor hopped out without hesitation, landing with a gross squelch and sinking in up to his ankles. He tried tugging me along with him, but I hesitated, wrinkling my nose. The Doctor released my hand and wandered out a few steps further, holding the metal divining rod out in front of him.

I looked down at my shoes and sighed. They were already dirty and worn from my trip across Rasp. Trusty tennis shoes with excellent arch support, great for walking. Not for slogging through mud. I briefly considered taking them off and going barefoot, but then I thought about how cold the mud must be and wondered if the soft ground was actually full of sharp rocks or alien diseases or whatever. I grimaced.

"Hold on. I'm going to change my shoes."

I missed the Doctor's response as I hared off towards the wardrobe. Kicking off my sneakers at the door, I stripped off my socks and walked barefoot through the rows of randomized clothing.

Finding anything specific in the wardrobe was a huge pain. Sure, dressing for a specific year wasn't too bad, as the TARDIS computer could work out a complete outfit without trouble. But single items seemed to prove too difficult. I would ask for a scarf, and receive a hat. A request for a pair of gloves would be met with a single, lonesome shoe. I didn't even want to think about what happened the last time I asked the computer for a pair of socks. Sometimes the TARDIS would try to help, but she seemed to get confused whenever the wardrobe was involved. It was like she knew you were looking for something, but had to guess what it was and just threw random stuff at you in hopes that something would be the thing you wanted.

The best thing to do was find whatever it was on your own.

Less than five minutes later, I tripped back out of the TARDIS in a pair of brown knee-high rain boots. This time I didn't hesitate to plunge straight into the mud. The sopping earth sucked greedily up to my calves, making each step a battle. I was out of breath by the time I reached the Doctor, who had wandered a short distance in my absence.

"Doesn't make sense," he complained when I made it to his side. He was still frowning at the rod as it continued to blink.

"What doesn't?"

"It's a sensor, right? Tracking something." He walked a few steps forward, the blinking slowed. He spun back to face me, the rod started blinking faster. He took a few steps closer, and the blinking slowed again. "But what? There's nothin' here. Everytime it picks up a signal, the direction changes." He frowned at the rod moodily and gave it a frustrated shake. "Faulty."

I thought for a moment, and then shook my head. "Maybe not."

"Eh?"

"Could be underground." I jumped up and down on the spot, sinking deeper into the mud when I landed. "Could be moving."

"Subsurface tunnels?" A brilliant smile split his features. He retrieved his sonic from the lining of his leather jacket and began to scan the mud. "Buffy, that's - "

Before he could finish the sentence, a brown ball of fur the size of a watermelon erupted from the mud. I caught a glimpse of orange, insect-like eyes and long, beaver teeth as the creature launched itself at the Doctor's hand. In the blink of an eye, it snagged the screwdriver between its teeth, fell back to the ground, and vanished back into the mud, which parted for the alien like water. As suddenly as it appeared, it was gone. The mud surged back into place, covering the creature's escape route like it never existed.

The Doctor swore loudly and hopped about, shaking the hand that the screwdriver had been in.

"Did it bite you?" I asked worriedly, struggling over to examine his hand. I took his hand and brushed off some of the mud off of his fingers, checking for damage. His thumb and index finger both had red welts where teeth had scraped harshly against them, but thankfully hadn't broken the skin.

"It's fine," he grumbled, glaring at the mud surrounding us like he expected another of the creatures to come out of nowhere to bite him again. "It took my screwdriver!"

I massaged the angry marks on his fingers soothingly. "What was it?"

"Dunno," he grouched, kicking at the ground and sending up a spray of mud. "Must've homed in on the vibrations from the sonic. Maybe that's how it finds food. Did you get a good look at it?"

I released his fingers and nodded. "Sort of like a beaver, but it had eyes like some kind of bug."

"Where they orange?" He nodded sagely. "Dirt dauber."

The name tickled at a memory. "I thought a dirt dauber was a wasp. You know, the ones that make the mud nests on the side of your house?"

"Right. Because the humans named something, the name can't be used for anything else," he snarked. "It's a sort of rodent. They live underground in family groups like prairie dogs and feed on worms 'nd grubs that live in the mud."

"And that's what the machine thing tracks?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Just a hunting tool." The Doctor held up the rod and waved it around. "Dirt daubers are extremely valuable. A fur coat from a dirt dauber is four times as valuable as mink. Not to mention that they're a delicacy on several planets in the Veradai System. That's where we must be." He glanced up at the sky. "One of the moons of the largest planet, at a guess. Kerai's moons are all this bloody wet."

"So you're saying that a hunting tool was smart enough to hack the TARDIS?"

He shrugged. "There's a lot of money in the fur trade. Need breeds ingenuity. There was a recession around the 30th century, so a lot of people were desperate to make a few bucks. Bit sick, if you ask me. What kind of person wears something made of someone else's skin?"

I agreed, but raised an eyebrow. "Isn't your jacket leather?"

He scoffed and tugged at it. "Synthetic. All clothes on the TARDIS are synthetic. Better than the fake stuff on Earth, innit? Just like the real thing, 'cept no one had to die for it. Now, what about my sonic?"

The wind picked up, causing me to shiver. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my thin jacket. "I don't know. I guess the dirt dauber had some shelves to put up. It's his now."

The Time Lord pouted. "But I like my sonic."

I softened at how sad he looked. A nine hundred year old puppy. There were only a few things that the Doctor allowed himself to get attached to, and the screwdriver was one of them. Even if he made himself a new one, he would mope about the loss of the old one for days. I hated it when he was sad.

I groaned internally, knowing I would probably regret my next statement. "Well, if you have any ideas, I'm game."

The Doctor immediately brightened. "Perfect! Have you got your sonic?"

I nodded and dug it out of the small bag strapped to my leg. I held it out to him, careful not to push the button by mistake. The Doctor smiled but didn't take it.

"When I say so, keep it switched on, but keep it in your pocket so you don't lose it."

I grimaced, seeing where this was going. "This is stupid. It's not going to work."

The Doctor took a few steps back and crouched down into a ready position. He grinned at me mischievously. "Come on, it's not like Buffy Reid to back down from a challenge."

"Have you met me?" I retorted, but shoved the sonic securely into my pocket with my finger on the button. "Fine. Ready?"

The Doctor nodded and I pressed the button of the sonic pen, thinking hard about what I wanted to happen.

The surface of the mud practically exploded as several dozen muddy bowling balls erupted from their tunnels below and all charged for me. I gave a squeal of surprise when one of them took a flying leap in my direction. It landed solidly on my chest, knocking the wind out of my lungs and making me topple over backwards. The mud squished all the way up my back, coating everything from my feet to my hair like I'd fallen in brown paint.

"Eughh!" I squawked as water soaked through my clothes to the skin and chilled me to the bone. "Get off!"

The dirt dauber sniffed at my face, evidently confused. I saw my own reflection mirrored several hundred times in its segmented orange eyes before it seemed to realize I was technically a predator. With a frightened click of its massive front teeth, it whipped around and darted back into the safety of the mud.

A hand snagged me and lifted me back to my feet. The Doctor steadied me, glancing around at the dirt daubers as they scrambled around us, diving in and out of the mud as they tried to find the source of the agitating sound.

"Do you see it?" The Doctor asked hurriedly. "How do we know which one?"

A flash of silver caught my eye. "There!"

We both dove after it. Skidding, tripping, and falling as we chased the alien creature. It was much faster than us and had the advantage of looking exactly like the rest of its friends. It would run along the surface of the mud for a few yards, prompting one or both of us to sprint after it, then dive back into the depths.

"There he is!"

"Damn it! Where has he gone now?"

"Wait, what's this?"

"Ow! My foot!"

"Whoops!"

Within minutes, we were covered head to toe in thick, sticky clay. It matted in my hair and clogged up my boots. I gave a cry of frustration when my left leg sank all the way up to my thigh.

"Help! I'm stuck!"

The Doctor paused in his chase and lumbered over, gripping under my armpits and lifting me bodily out of the mud I was trapped in. Unfortunately, my boot was sucked off and left behind, mud encasing it and hiding it forever.

"My shoe!" I complained.

"You can get another boot. There he is again!"

The dirt dauber we were chasing popped up a few yards away. The Doctor went headlong for it. The Time Lord dove on top of the furry alien, catching it securely in his arms like an American football before it could touch the ground. He wrestled with it, one arm locked under the creature's head and the other around its chubby middle, trying not to get bitten or scratched as it struggled.

"Buff! Get it!"

I scrambled over and, without thinking, prized the alien rodent's jaws apart and snatched the sonic screwdriver out of its mouth. The Doctor immediately released the small thief and we both watched as it dove back into the mud and vanished.

I reached back into my pocket and switched off my sonic pen. As soon as the high pitched whirring stopped, the rest of the dirt daubers melted, one by one, back into the ground. Within ten seconds, the Doctor and I were alone again. We sat side by side, equally breathless and soaked.

The Time Lord looked over at me and I stared back. He was completely covered in mud, like someone had picked him up with a pair of tongs and dipped him in lumpy chocolate. His face, his jacket, everything. The only parts of him that weren't mud were his icy blue eyes, which contrasted starkly with the color of the earthy sludge. I knew I couldn't be much better off; I could feel the freezing substance drying on my cheeks.

The Doctor tipped back his head and laughed. It was a rare laugh, happy and carefree, as if all of the problems in the universe and within his mind simply didn't exist. I smiled as I watched him, grateful that these moments still existed. God knew he needed them every now and then.

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~0~0~0~

It had been a long day. A long few days. Some adventures were easy and fun, others were hard and fun, and then there are those that test you. Break you. Wear you down until there isn't much left.

I was bone tired by the time we made it back to the TARDIS. I slogged in from the swamps of an alien planet and made a beeline for the shower. I barely managed to throw on some pajamas before collapsing into bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.

Considering how exhausted I was, it was strange that I woke up again in the deepest part of the night. I blinked blearily up at the holographic stars and watched as they winked at me through scant mist, giving the illusion of a cool, mid-autumn sky. The rest of the room was dark and silent. Nothing out of the ordinary and definitely nothing to have drawn me out of what had been a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

I was startled out of the doze I had slipped back into by a low whine. The sound curled out of the darkness, frightened and needy; somewhere between an upset child and a dog that wanted in after being left outside in the cold.

I wiggled up into a sitting position and looked over to see the Doctor laying on top of the covers beside me. The fact that he was in my bed wasn't unusual. In fact, I was starting to expect it. Usually he would sit and read or find something quiet to do while I slept. The fact he was actually sleeping himself was a rarity. I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen him sleep, or even if I ever had at all.

Another whine bubbled up from his throat. He was frowning, his face twitching in response to whatever dream he was trapped in. The Doctor grunted and his fingers wiggled against his chest while his frown deepened into an almost painful grimace.

"Doctor." I reached out to take his fidgeting hand. "Doctor, wake up."

The instant I touched him, the Time Lord sprang to his feet, scaring the hell out of us both. He stared wildly around the room in search of the threat before turning to squint at me tiredly. I clamped a hand over my heart as if that would stop it from racing.

"Whasit?" Slurred the Doctor, still not entirely awake. He stood there stiffly, like he was unsure whether to fight or run as he desperately tried to see straight. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I placated. "I think you were having a nightmare."

The Doctor blinked at me a few times, pondering the statement. Then his shoulders sagged as he realized the truth in my words.

"Oh." His voice was small and confused, like he wasn't sure what had happened, but felt like he should probably be embarrassed. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and stared around the room some more.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No, no," he mumbled, scrubbing his eyes with a clumsy hand. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you. I'll… uh… I'll just be going."

"Hold it," I ordered, stopping him from heading to the door. I lifted up the blankets beside me and held them open invitingly. "C'mere. You're just as beat as I am."

He stared at me doubtfully for a few moments, but ultimately complied. The Doctor slipped under the covers facing me, immediately snuggling down with a content sigh that tickled my chin. I didn't hesitate to wrap my arms around his shoulders, hoping to ward off any other bad dreams that might come his way.

After that night, he started sleeping in my bed more often. At least once a week, he would show up at my door and politely ask if it was alright if he stayed in my room for the night.

I always said yes, and he would curl up beside me like he belonged there. Nothing else happened, not that I expected it to. I loved the intimacy that came with it, even if it wasn't romantic or sexual. It was a nice, familial closeness that I lost when I was dumped into this foreign universe.

When Geordie was little, he would wake me up in the middle of the night. With bleary eyes and the well-loved stuffed turtle he inherited from me clutched in his fist, he would ask if he could stay in my bed. Just for tonight. All three of us went through a stage where we had chronic bad dreams.

When we were together, we had fewer nightmares.

~0~0~0~

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When the Doctor finally giggled himself out, he went back to where he had left the dirt dauber rod. It was sticking upright in the mud like a metal letter Y. I sat down, no longer caring about the mud, and tugged off my other boot. The thick mud squished unpleasantly between my toes, but was easy to ignore. Tucking the single boot under my arm, I sloshed back to the Doctor's side.

He grinned and immediately launched into a spiel about the dirt daubers and various techniques used to hunt them. I watched him as he rambled, cataloging each expression that crossed his face. He was in his element; on an alien world, filthy, and explaining something fascinating to a human friend.

Warmth spread through my chest as I watched him, tingling from my fingertips to my toes and chasing away the cold that lingered from the freezing mud. The rest of the miserable alien planet faded away until all I could see was him, talking with his hands and grinning at the most mundane factoids because every tiny detail was just so fascinating and wonderful. I was struck by how beautiful he was. Every part of him, from his big ears to his sharp nose, high cheekbones, toothy smile, and stormy blue eyes radiated light. Radiated him. He oozed with life, both at his best moments and his worst; the physical embodiment of time, of everything in the universe worth seeing, of every secret worth knowing.

And it was beautiful.

This wasn't a new feeling. I'd been feeling it for months, but it had gotten stronger in recent weeks. The first time I noticed it was in the console room. It had been a quiet day. I was sitting on the jumpseat, drinking tea that he had made for me. I was wearing a loose t-shirt and fuzzy socks, absently reading a book from the 28th century. The Doctor was sitting on the floor nearby, talking at me while he tinkered. The TARDIS hummed like rain drizzling on a roof. Everything was peaceful and right.

The feeling had bubbled up in me much like it had now, somehow both surprising and completely expected. I welcomed it, but wished it wasn't there. It was both a blessing and a curse.

I wasn't stupid. I knew what the feeling was - what it meant - but refused to give it a name. Once I identified it, admitted to it, it would be too late. It was a feeling that I knew could never be requited, and I wasn't going to burn myself out with false hope. Doctor was supposed to feel it for other people. Never for me.

It couldn't be me.

The knowledge of what was to come - the people that were going to be - burned in my mind. But my foreknowledge couldn't stop me from feeling, just as it couldn't stop me from appreciating how the Doctor shined.

"We'll hang onto this," the Doctor explained, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil as we slogged back to the console room. "We can't stop them from hunting the dirt daubers, but we can keep 'em from using this ever again."

I made a joke about hunting and he laughed before we went our separate ways to get cleaned up. While I scrubbed the mud off of my skin in the shower, I evaluated the situation.

The time for Rose to join us was drawing near. I could feel it hanging over my head, pressing down more and more with each passing day. Realistically, I knew that there wasn't an actual time limit. The TARDIS and time travel ensured that. The Doctor and I existed between two moments in time - the dreams a child had between falling asleep and waking up again. Every adventure we'd had thus far happened those few seconds when the Doctor left Rose and rematerialized to tell her that his little blue box was, in fact, a time machine. I could have a lifetime between those two moments. But at the same time, I knew I shouldn't.

The more time with him I had - the moments I stole away and I kept to myself - the harder it was going to be to face reality. The feelings I had for him vamped up the urgency. The sooner Rose was on board to usurp the Doctor's attention, the better; the easier it would be for me to move on.

After I was scrubbed clean, I found that I was too restless to sleep. I wandered the TARDIS for a bit, eventually making my way to the kitchen. I browsed the food and drink selection idly, musing between decaf coffee and tea.

I needed to remind him of Rose. He seemed to have forgotten, or at least didn't see a reason to go back for the blonde. She had turned down his offer, hadn't she? What point was there in asking again?

I leaned against the counter and swallowed down some of my bitterness with the cup of decaffeinated coffee, sweetened heavily with hazelnut creamer.

Why should she get a second chance?

Forget my special feelings for the Time Lord, I already knew they were pointless. What else could I lose when she came? He was my best friend, my only friend. The closest thing I had to family. Bringing Rose along would mean having to share his attention, his companionship.

I was selfish. I didn't want to share.

But was it really selfishness when you were being asked to share the only thing you had?

I was startled out of my thoughts by arms wrapping around my middle. They tugged me backwards, pulling me securely against a hard surface that I knew to be the Doctor's chest. He hugged me warmly from behind. I felt the weight of his head on the top of my skull as he rested his chin there.

"You're unhappy," the Doctor observed, soft voice rumbling in his chest. It was a statement, and hidden within it was the question, Why?

I sighed heavily, some of the tension leaving me as I leaned back into his touch. I folded my hands over his, caressing the bumps and lines of his fingers and wrists, debating on what I should say.

I wanted to tell him everything. How I felt; about him and Rose. How I was scared of losing him and being alone. How much I missed my family and how I was jealous of a person neither of us had seen in nearly a year. How even thinking about the episodes made me feel like I wasn't real. I was a story, a dream, and everything else was reality.

Instead I said, "Just tired."

The Doctor hummed in acknowledgement, blatantly not buying it. He stroked my forearm with his thumb and squeezed me tighter for a few moments before letting go.

He didn't leave though. Instead he leaned down, resting his elbows on the counter so that he was at my eye level.

Sometimes I forget how hilariously shorter I am than him.

"Why don't you sleep, then?" He suggested with a kind smile that didn't quite match his searching eyes. "You just got back from a long trip."

"Why don't you?" I shot back, finding comfort in the familiarity of the banter.

He rolled his shoulders, shrugging mildly. "Dunno. Maybe I'm just waitin' for you to settle down so I can join you."

I tried not to think of the other implications that could be attached to that statement, especially those that I knew he didn't mean. That sort of thinking was absolutely not helpful.

"Couldn't settle down," I explained, taking another drink from my mug.

"Any particular reason?"

"Not really."

The Doctor quirked his eyebrows.

"Seriously."

The disbelieving expression remained fixed.

I rolled my eyes and hopped up to sit on the counter. The Doctor shifted over once I was in place, coming to stand in front of me with a hand on either side of my legs.

I pretended to think for a second, intentionally making the issue seem less bothersome than it was.

"I've been thinking," I began nonchalantly, pretending that my heart wasn't pounding out of my chest. Hopefully he couldn't hear it. "About, you know, this universe and mine. The episodes, specifically."

"What about them?" The Doctor inquired, brow furrowed.

"They aren't happening," I pointed out. "We never set them off."

"So?"

"They have to happen eventually," I pointed out. "I think they need to happen."

The Doctor pondered this for a moment, but nodded. "Alright. So why haven't they started up yet?"

"Because of Rose."

"Rose?" The Time Lord frowned. "You mean the girl from London? The blonde from the Autons, where I first met you?"

"Yeah, that's her." I felt a little guilty at how relieving it was that he was so disinterested in her.

"What's so important about her?"

"She's supposed to be your companion," I explained. "You're supposed to go back for her, and that triggers the episodes."

"Why do we need her as a companion?"

"Doctor, you need your companions. You need humans."

"But I've already got a human." When he said it, he said it so warmly, like it was a simple fact that he was especially fond of. He had a human, and it was me.

That simple statement sent warmth flooding through my veins. I had been his travelling companion for nearly a year, but I'd never really seen myself as a companion companion. Maybe it was because I still felt like I was outside this universe, stuck on the fact that I wasn't really meant to be here, but I always thought of myself as one of those temporary companions. The ones that hung out for an episode or two before leaving or dying.

It was really nice to know that he didn't see me that way.

I smiled and he smiled back. He was used to me. I was his friend. Our adventures weren't just there to fill in the time between two real moments. They were real, too. Real moments shared by two friends as they explored the universe together.

I slid off the counter and looped him into a hug. He returned it, holding me tightly against him like I would fade away if he lost his grip. I rested my ear on his chest and listened to the double beat of his twin hearts.

This is real, I thought. I'm real.

~0~0~0~

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Next Chapter: Planet Nine

Responses to Comments:

bored411 ; C. S. Stars ; Alikai : As always, thanks so much for reading and commenting! You guys definitely speed up my writing process and make me more excited to share this story with you :)

Cinnybun: My goal is make it as realistic as possible. I agree, it's kind of cringy when Rose is just blindly jealous. I have a plan for it, and I THINK it works out okay, but please let me know if Rose or Buffy ends up coming off as too OOC. Thanks for reviewing!

sophiewhettingsteel : Lol I didn't even think about that! It made me laugh:) Thanks for pointing it out :)

savethemadscientist: There's one chapter similar to this one after this, then there will be an arc called The Nightmare Paradigm, which I'm estimating to be between 3 and 4 chapters, but I don't know because I haven't written it yet. I have some momentum built up on this fic because I'm FINALLY getting to the exciting parts, so I'm hoping my updates won't be too far apart, but I'm not known for my regularity. I do need to go back to Monet's Pond, don't I? I have trouble writing that one because, unlike this fic, I don't have a specific short term plan for it. I sort of hit a wall with it and haven't gone back to it yet. I'll definitely start trying to plot for it again, so maybe I'll get around to updating it and my other ongoing fic, An Enigma of Broken Wings pretty soon :)