The shower did make Hermione feel better – especially when she thought about the handsome alien whom she could hear showering right on the other side of the wall. However, those pleasant thoughts were interrupted when Hermione realized with dismay that even though the slimy goo was gone from the surface of her hair, it was still layered throughout it underneath. Therefore, she had to tediously separate her thick locks into sections, and then wash each divided part thoroughly, in order to remove all of it.

Even through her annoyance, however, Hermione still had to laugh out loud when the TARDIS touched her thoughts and implied that this sort of thing happened all of the time around the Doctor – so she had better get used to it!

After her shower, she continued to think about having adventures with the alien and his ship when she noticed that her muscles were a little sore, and would probably be even more so on the next day. However, despite that, she felt better, physically, than she had in a long time. The exercise, the adrenaline, - and yes - the company, had all combined to give her a bit of a physical buzz that she had not felt in a while – and she liked it! However, she knew that she needed to build up her endurance again, so that she would not tire as easily as she had during the run from the town to the field.

What I need is a gym and a pool, she thought almost absentmindedly as she dressed and pulled her hair back. Some daily sparring…and a run followed by a swim…would tone my muscles nicely, I think. Apparently, the TARDIS agreed with the idea because she started to hum with enthusiasm and flashed Hermione a picture.

"You actually have one?" the witch asked excitedly. "That's fantastic! Can you show me where? Right now?"

...

The Doctor waited in the library for Hermione for quite a while before he started to get worried. He even sent a mental inquiry out to his ship, but he received only a vague answer in return – as if her main consciousness was occupied elsewhere. Therefore, his curiosity finally prevailed and he set out to find out just what his girls were up to.

He went by Hermione's room first, but she was not there. Consequently, he followed the TARDIS's stream of consciousness until he found himself in a corridor down which he had not been in a very long time. In fact, he realized that he had never been there in his current body. As he marveled at that thought, he was startled by a sudden blasting sound that was followed by a loud shout. That shook him out of his reflective reverie and he hurried to the nearest door. When he yanked it open anxiously, he was surprised to find himself in a gym – complete with a running track, a pool, and Hermione.

The witch was off to one side, which had obviously been set up as a sparring area, where she faced down several dummies. She had apparently animated them in order to practice her magical fighting skills because she was completely engaged with throwing spells at them and dodging or shielding against the spells that they sent at her in return. Since Hermione seemed completely unaware of his presence, the Doctor simply propped himself up against the wall to wait her out. He watched, quite impressed by her technique and skill, as she put one after the other of the dummies out of commission. She shouted and laughed every time one went down, and the Doctor honestly would have thought that she was enjoying herself, if it had not been for the tears streaming down her face at the same time.

He did not interfere, though. He simply waited until she was finished. When she finally blasted the last dummy into a smoldering pile and fell into a sobbing heap onto the floor herself, he went and gathered her up into his arms and just held her. As badly as he wanted to, he knew that there was nothing that he could do to help her. For a while, everything was going to remind her of her loss. Only time and distance could help with that. Even then, it would only dull the ache. After all, he knew this well from his own painful experience. He also knew that all he could do until then was to show her that she was not alone and that someone…cared…about her.

"What do you need, dear girl?" he asked gently after she had cried herself out in his arms. At the sound of his voice, Hermione pulled back slightly from him and looked up with eyes that were still wet with tears. However, a small smile also touched her lips as she looked at the kind, understanding alien who held her.

"I'm British," she reminded him. "Therefore, I need tea."

"Then tea you shall have!" he exclaimed as he grinned down at her and hugged her. He was so very happy that she was able to retain her cheekiness - even through her pain. He knew very well that sometimes retreating into humor was the only thing that you could do. Consequently, he helped her up off of the floor and then continued to hold her hand as they walked the circuitous route back to the library.

...

Once they had reached their destination, Hermione thanked the TARDIS profusely when she noticed that the tea tray was already waiting for them. They took the same seats they had occupied before, but they did not speak again until Hermione was on her second cup while the Doctor still nursed his first and waited patiently for the little witch to decide if she wanted to talk about it…or not.

At that point, however, Hermione finally felt well enough to converse. She turned her attention away from her tea mug to look at the Doctor who still watched her with concern. "This is good tea," she mentioned casually to set him at ease and let him know that she was all right now. "Lucky for us that you had those weird alien pockets of yours to store everything in – or else it would have all been destroyed by the slime."

The Doctor just nodded, relieved that she felt better, before he grinned and addressed the silly terminology in her statement. "They aren't just weird alien pockets, you know. They're also transdimensional," he explained enthusiastically since he loved to show off his toys. "In fact, they are bigger on the inside – just like the TARDIS." She nodded in understanding as his words tickled at something in the back of her memory. However, try as she might, she could not quite remember what it was at the moment. Therefore, she changed the subject and hoped that it would come to her later.

"Why didn't you tell me that you had a gym?" she asked him instead and the curiosity was evident in her voice.

It was immediately clear that the Doctor had not expected that question, however, and his smile fell from his face as he looked at her blankly for a moment. "I had forgotten all about it," he finally said, honestly. "I haven't explored the ship in a long time and, therefore, I don't really know what rooms we still have. I know that the Old Girl took most of the nonessential spaces off-line during the war, so that she wouldn't have to maintain them and could focus all of her energy on what really needed to be done. I just assumed that she had deleted them permanently." He looked off in the distance then and his eyes were glazed and unfocused as he continued to speak. "I've been alone ever since then and found that I only needed the basics – plus the library, of course – in order to live comfortably. Therefore, I never went in search of any of the old recreational places."

Hermione's breath hitched sharply at the mention of his war. It was only the second time that he had vaguely referred to it and she wondered if he would say more. After a moment, though, it became obvious that he was not going to and she really did not blame him. However, one thing stood out in his statement…I've been alone ever since then… and her heart went out to him. The poor man…no wonder he had been so understanding and gentle with her this entire time. He understood what she was going through because he had been through it himself! However, he had done it alone – with only the TARDIS for support! Well, that was about to change!

She reached out and took his hand. "Maybe we could explore her together."

This brought him out of his daze. "I'd like that," he said with a fond little smile at the thoughtful woman next to him. After he thought about it for a minute, he replied with more enthusiasm. "In fact, let's do it tomorrow!" He squeezed her hand with affection. "Right now, however, you need some food and then some sleep – Doctor's orders!"

Hermione could not help but to smile at his silly little joke and he could not stop his own in response. Then, hand in hand they walked to the galley and made a simple meal together. While they ate, they made some light conversation and discussed the various species that they had met during their Barcelona trip. The only ones that the Doctor had never encountered before were the Vandelvorms, but he was well acquainted with all of the others. In fact, he was able to provide additional information about each of them. Hermione listened to his stories intently and asked many questions. After all, she had always been fascinated with the diversity of sentient life in the magical world…and she found that aliens were even more interesting.

She also marveled at the sheer amount of knowledge that he held and she started to wonder for the first time about exactly how old the Doctor actually was. He had certainly accumulated more knowledge than she would have thought possible in one lifetime. However, she knew that she also had to remember that he was an alien. Maybe his species is exceptionally long-lived or maybe they have vast instinctual knowledge with which they are born, she thought. Hermione's intellectual mind desperately wanted to know everything about him (and perhaps there was some interest on a personal level, as well, even if she was not quite ready to admit it, yet). However, his alone comment from earlier prevented her from asking. He obviously was not ready to tell her about his people or planet, yet. Therefore…as a friend…she would not cause him additional pain by forcing him to do so – not until he was ready – if he ever was.

...

Even though the Doctor did not know the full extent of how thoughtful her behavior at dinner had been, he returned the favor later that night when she showed up at his bedroom door several hours after she had first gone to bed. She wore a pair of rumpled pajamas and her hair was very tousled, so he quickly realized that she had been tossing and turning the entire time. He did not say a word, however. He just scooted over and lifted up the edge of the blanket as a silent invitation. Without a word herself, she climbed into the bed, kissed his cheek in thanks, and then snuggled up against him with her back to his front. He draped his arm over her and they both sighed with the comfort that such simple contact brought to them.

Then the two broken ones, who had just started to realize that they felt a lot less broken when they were together, both fell asleep within minutes.