Benny was laying on the chaise lounge in the corner of her office, lights comfortably dim with the window curtains drawn, her nose in a book with a nice, generous glass of deep red wine and a box of some takeaway noodles. Nothing could distract her from this. She needed it. A break from the paperwork, and the anxiety, and the drama, and the people. Just an old Earth story and some comfort food. Right now, that- along with her thoughts, were her entire world.
It was perfect.
A sound suddenly drew her out of her reverie, a steady knocking at the door.
So much for a break.
She sighed.
But Bernice didn't get up to answer, only shoving the book closer to her face. Just the story, just the story, just the story...
Whoever knocked did so again.
She still stayed anchored down, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the page, drowning out the sound with the words. They kept knocking and knocking with increasing urgency, their rapping on the door stern but delicate, growing harder and louder- but still elegant, never using quite enough force to let it become a proper thump.
Unfortunately... whoever was knocking- didn't have to. The previously locked doorknob squeaked and it opened on its own. And if that was the case, she knew exactly who it was.
And she'd just ignored him asking for her for well over a minute straight.
"Benny- are you quite alright?"
She saw the long, thin shadow of the figure behind her in the entrance to her study, cast from the light of the doorway, and she frowned.
"Brax. Evening."
Most other times, she'd be quite pleased to see him indeed- but not now. It wasn't his fault, of course. She was still grateful for his treatment of her last night, in fact. But moods like this didn't suddenly stop being such a bother just because of who happened to step into the room.
From the outside, it seemed he actually developed stronger boundaries between himself and Bernice- that wasn't true. They'd simply changed, to suit life with a human like her.
He didn't used to bother knocking much at all. Irving had completely free reign of the mansionhouse after all. But he'd always knocked when the door was shut now, even if it wasn't locked.
The inverse had happened for Benny. Oh, she never had really bothered with it when she could just get into his study. And she scarcely did now either. But he clearly didn't mind anymore, while in the past he showed his irritation not infrequently, and she was often surprised that Brax had let her key work on his door to begin with. Well, except when it didn't.
But regardless, he was in her rooms now. And it was a shame.
The isolation had been doing her wonders.
Bernice finally dropped the book and got up from the chaise lounge in her obscured corner of the room, both to announce herself and to voice exactly how grumpy she was about the situation. Despite being so exhausted though, she still didn't want to go and push him away. "I'm here. I'm fine. And I've finished my work. Just really want to be left alone for a bit. Far too much absolute bullshit going on, and I'm tired."
"Bernice- I am sorry for interrupting you," Irving nodded in understanding of her desires, fiddling with his cufflinks. "And I'm quite aware of how tiring it indeed is, even I'm beginning to feel the fatigue despite the extra sleep that being with you happens to provide. Things keep hitting us one after another and it has been a... busy time. Unfortunately, before the term starts I have another thing- and I know you don't often like said sort of thing- a black-tie party as part of a conference to renew our protective treaties. And I'm sure you're aware that when you'd normally get invited as a department head you'd have the opportunity to turn this sort of thing down..."
"But?" She raised an eyebrow, not at all liking where this was going. She did like a good party, and Brax of all people really knew how to throw one- but his wording and tone of voice didn't suggest that it was going to be one of those at all.
She hated summits, and political dinners, and all the politicians and stuffy academics that came with them.
His gestures only confirmed it. Yes, it was going to be a boring one. Brax rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "One of the species in question considers it... impolite for the host not to bring their ahem- 'closest confidant.' If you have one, that is. And as it happens that you are and it's now quite well-known that you are..."
"I have to go?"
Boring wasn't too terrible though. Putting up with it just for a night, she could surely manage.
"Yes. But I'm sure that it won't be a problem at all. I'm sure the Mim and the Draconi-"
"DRACONIANS?!"
Brax nodded, and shrugged, seemingly clueless. "Yes? This summit is also to ease any tensions that may exist between them. We started the tradition after you last left, to keep things peaceful. It's the last still-ongoing project to avert the, ahem- issues in the other timeline, and to maintain the safety of the Collection for both us and for the sake of the students."
Bernice got the concept, but under no circumstances wanted to be involved in those sorts of politics, especially given who she couldn't even stand to be stuck in the same room with. She'd only make a mess of it and Benny knew. "No. I'm not going. Not in a million bloody years. Not with them. Humans, females- you know damn well I don't aim to please those sexist imperialist loons! All the crap-"
"Most of which hasn't happened here-" he added.
Benny grumbled, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "Except for me 'causing' an attempted coup by the Dark Flame cult and getting my head cracked open?"
"Ah. Well- umm ...Yes," he admitted sheepishly.
She rolled her eyes back at him. "Then there's your answer, Brax. I'm sure it's just as offensive me going as me not. In fact, I-"
He interrupted the start of her tirade. " While this is very much not an easy alliance, their control over so much of the galaxy and military power is undeniable. So is that of the Mim, and they're who socially require it. If we want their protection and to keep relations healthy- I'm sorry, Benny. While your distaste for them is more than valid- and I also have my own... you still have to come. It's not up to either of us." Irving put a resigned hand up to his face.
Bernice shook her head.
"It's still a no."
He tried to finish explaining, desperate to convince her. "I'm afraid it's an... obligation that comes with us being a couple, Bernice."
Bernice groaned and rubbed her temples. "Any other obligations?"
Brax produced a relieved chuckle. "Goodness me- aside from public events and meetings like this, no."
She raised an eyebrow, seeming both intrigued and reluctant. "Still not so sure. Will I have to talk to them?"
He waved her off. "No. In fact, it's probably best you interact with them as little as possible. With your... opinions- we don't want a confrontation. And just as you said, being a woman, human, and also accidentally destabilising the ruling class for multiple years by nearly having assassinated their emperor and being involved in the deaths of several nobles still... isn't a good look." He trailed off with a visible wince.
She turned around and glanced back at him over her shoulder. "Thanks for the reminder. It's almost like they didn't decide to trepan me." And that was just what happened in both universes- what only occurred in hers didn't exactly improve anything.
His expression was pleading. "But Benny-" Braxiatel whined.
She shut him down. "You did this last time, I'm not falling for it."
"Please..."
"Nope!"
"But Benny!"
"Oh, come off it!"
"But I want you, need you!"
Bernice froze with a blank expression for a moment, somewhat concerned and a little embarrassed. "...That sounds a lot more sexual in this context, Brax."
"...Right."
She sat down in the nearest chair, glancing up at him as she crossed her arms. "You're still going to need something more to convince me than that, Irving."
Brax smirked. "Well- good thing I do happen to have... something more." He cleared his throat to draw even more attention to his words.
Benny huffed. "Dramatic pause. Okay, interesting."
"It really may tip the scales and persuade you. Honest." His tone and expression were surprisingly genuine, not obviously charming.
And it partly worked. "I don't believe you at all, quite frankly- but alright. What is it?"
He wore a mischievous expression, something excited and proud, practically giddy from what he was talking about. He stepped back into the doorframe, urging her to follow. "Come with me. I think you'll like it."
Curious now, she walked with him. They strolled through the winding corridors back to his office, hand in hand. The same quiet journey as always, until he started humming along to the beat of their footsteps. She revelled in it, the sound of his voice in the form of improvised music worth appreciating.
He opened the door for her, and there didn't seem to be anything there at all. She looked puzzled. "...What is it? Why here?"
But he didn't answer her question quite yet. "I thought that- since this is our first formal outing to the universe as a couple... you should probably have a new dress."
"-Well, I mean. What I have is fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine-" Benny trailed off as she finally got a look at it. Her jaw dropped.
She'd been cut off when part of Brax's study flipped away back to the TARDIS interior, and out popped a mannequin with her exact measurements wearing one of the most beautiful gowns she'd ever laid eyes on. Eyes wide, mouth still agape, Bernice struggled to find the words.
"I- well... I mean-"
"Similar specifications to your constellation gown, ordered custom. So our outfits match. I hope you don't mind the personal touches," he subtly boasted.
The dress was a deep, striking crimson, made of something smooth and shiny, but softer than silk. Like her blue one, it was long and slim with a slit up to one thigh, though slightly more asymmetric other than that, having one wider strap as opposed to two, and a silky drape hanging off of it. Most noticeable, however, and definitely the 'personal touches' he mentioned- were long clusters and lines of hand-stitched ornamental circular Gallifreyan, in bright gold thread that at the right angle of light seemed to just glow. One line going up the slit, all along the sash in back, and the cluster on one side of the torso.
Benny still had trouble commenting on it, so she said the one thing that popped into her head. "...What does it mean? I assume the 'Boss Bitch' tie is the one you're referring to with the matching. Got any other vulgar inside jokes just because you can get away with it?"
"That wasn't the first thing I thought you'd say, I admit." He chuckled, but brushed her off. "Depends on how you look at things. The line here means that little joke on the archaeology merchandise you sometimes buy- 'Don't touch my trowel.' Though the location of that one would certainly raise some eyebrows with my people-" he huffed in amusement as he pointed directly at the mannequin's thigh before continuing to explain. "The others... this group means 'Wise Teacher,' and this one..." He stopped, eyes locking with hers, softening and putting a hand to her cheek. "...means 'My Dearest Love.'"
An innuendo, an accolade, and a cheesy declaration of love. She rolled her eyes but found it genuinely endearing and sweet.
He knew her far too well.
"...Oh." She paused parsing out what to say. "Thank you. It's- amazing." It might've even made up for the trial that this summit would be enduring. Far too tempting. "...Fine. I'll go with you."
He clapped his hands together triumphantly. "Good. I do try my best. Very glad that you approve."
Unfortunately, this felt too... transactional, for Bernice. Even with the love language she was getting used to, given its context as a bribery, it felt like too much. Not that she didn't love it. She'd gladly accept it as a heartfelt gift, yes. And go to a party, maybe appreciate the champagne and the food, and ignore most of the company beyond trying to be polite. But she'd definitely have to talk to him about it. Later. Much later. Swallowing her pride, she gave him a massive and warm hug.
Braxiatel sighed, muscles relaxing and his stiff, perfect posture shifting to something casual and gentle. Still slightly embarrassed about this sort of thing somehow, he glanced away, turning red. "...May I have a-?"
But she'd already gathered what he was after, and their lips met before he even finished his sentence. A bit sudden at first, it was still only a second before Irving fell right into it. Warm, soft, and sweet turned to passionate and steamy. A little messy by the end, when it broke they were both out of breath and their hair was matted and mussed.
Brax sighed, in a sort of dizzy stupor. "You seem in a better mood."
"Well, it's not like I mind them." Her eyes flitted to his lips. There was still a spark of something special when it was with him, not just because of his species- one Bernice hoped would never see gone.
He huffed and stroked her cheek. "Quite pleasant, yes."
Her smile fell. "But please, Irving. I need a rest from people."
He understood. With the work, and the feelings, and the problems, and the creature, he was having trouble keeping up himself even though he wasn't supposed to be needing much rest at all. Of course, a human- she needed more care than that. Benny needed more care than that.
"Joseph can cover the remainder of your meetings and paperwork for a few days. Is that long enough to settle back down again?"
She simply nodded, getting her breath back after only managing to cough out a couple of sentences.
"Have you been sleeping better lately, at least? Aside from last night, you slept like a log and clung to me so hard I couldn't move..." he muttered.
"Sorry about that-" She finished gathering her breath again for a second longer, signalling him to wait for an answer, and then spoke. "Sometimes. When you come over, definitely."
He briefly pressed his forehead to hers. "Then I'll pay you a visit tonight. And whenever I can for however many more you may need."
She sighed again, and fell into his chest for an embrace, listening to his hearts beat, slowing down from the height of the kiss, but still a reassuringly steady, rapid thumping, faster than any human's would ever be. "Thanks, Brax."
After a while, Bernice stared up into his eyes and smirked. "You're going to break the rule on that dress, aren't you? 'Touch my trowel' and start digging, as it were?"
He flushed.
"...Do you want me to?"
"...We'll see."
"Ah... then perhaps."
Her eyes drifted back to the gown. "Anyway- can I try it on?"
His huffed fondly. "Of course- if nothing else we need to be sure that the measurements are exactly right. It's meant to precisely compliment your body type, and still look good in motion. If it's incorrect-"
She huffed back. "Then it won't be perfect. And you'd be embarrassed."
An exact bullseye. "Err... yes. Not by you though- by the designer. And my failure to get things accurate."
"Designer, yes... Who did design it?" Bernice furrowed her brow. The style was familiar. Too familiar.
Braxiatel shrugged one shoulder casually. "Well, I sketched the first draft, but aside from my revisions, Ximon Bentley did most of the rest."
Her eyes widened. He was the most famous and generally considered most talented designer for humanoid clothing of the modern era. "Ximon Bentley?! The Ximon Bentley? But just on name alone his cue must be light-years long and the pri- for me? You're mad. "
Braxiatel chuckled. "I am told that from time to time. Mostly by you."
Bernice was still dumbfounded. No, no- what did she do to deserve this? "Well, really this time. I can't wear this. I'm not a supermodel. And I'm not... you. You're posh and even though you only ever wear suits in public... ahem- and even in bed sometimes - you can somehow pull off anything."
"That's not the point. It's not for you to 'pull off.' It's for you. And you alone. A unique, beautiful piece of art to be worn by a yet infinitely more beautiful one. You don't deserve any less." He took both of her hands in his own and squeezed them gently.
Benny scoffed. There was surely some excuse for why this was too much-
"What if I stain it?"
"Self-cleaning nano-fibers."
"What if I tear it?"
"Incredibly elastic, and the cut is also for practical reasons so you'll be able to run and take stairs."
"Burn it?"
"Heat-resistant and plasma-shielded."
She raised an eyebrow. That was it then. Of course 'plasma-shielded' would be the thing to tip it over the edge, and it caused her to laugh at herself.
"Blimey. You really thought of everything."
He laughed with her. "It wouldn't really be your dress if it wasn't up for an adventure. I believe quite a few of them in the past have learned that the hard way."
That couldn't be more true. The blue one had lasted a while, but only after some significant mending and alterations so it wouldn't keep getting ripped when she attempted to do much of anything interesting. Others, she hardly remembered because they only ended up seeing the light of day a few times.
Bernice rolled her eyes and sighed in defeat.
"...Fine. Yes, I surrender. You win. It's perfect."
"That's yet to be judged- I did agree that you should try it on."
She'd almost forgotten. "Ah. Heh, right."
"Go on then- you can go in my bedroom and get a feel for it." He pointed towards the door.
It was so seamless in its craftsmanship that it took her a while to find exactly where it was supposed to be undone, but finally she found it. It came off the mannequin easily with a good peel- an interesting choice, strong, flexible magnets were the way it closed in the back, with a hook up top so it didn't come open randomly. At least it wasn't tuned to her emotions. She'd seen that go very wrong before.
Taking it with her, she did just as he said and slipped into his bedroom.
Would it really work on her?
Only one way to find out.