By the time the Doctor had settled on the perfect location and argued her away from her blanket so they could lie back on it instead of in the grass, Charley's resolve had grown. Along with her frustration, she noted to herself.
How was it that the Doctor seemed to know exactly how to twist her heart, to draw her in to the point where she thought for sure she'd drown, only to turn her on her head within moments? Surely he wouldn't just toy with her emotions like that. He was strange, yes, but so kind and sweet...
On the other hand, he was alien. Truly. Did he feel, could he feel, like humans did? Or was there something in his Time Lord mind that didn't quite work that way? Did Time Lords even have the capacity for those... types of emotions?
Charley watched as the Doctor settled himself on the blanket. He seemed so at ease, so peaceful now, despite his earlier partial breakdown. His hair fanned out around his head, a chestnut nimbus of curls, and Charley wanted so deeply to run her fingers through them, to play with the tendrils gently, to be that close to him.
Uncertainty, however, forced her into sitting upright next to him, her knees tucked up by her chest, arms folded around them.
She studied him quietly as he began to extoll his knowledge about the stars twinkling above, oblivious to her increasing emotional distress.
"I just don't understand you, Doctor." Charley said, bluntly, interrupting his seemingly unending diatribe.
He visibly startled at her words. "What... what is it you don't understand? I'd be more than happy to start with the basics of astronomy, if that's what's troubling you..."
Charley laughed bitterly. "You have absolutely no idea, do you?" Taking in his thoroughly confused expression, she took her answer. "Not one teensy clue. I can see that."
Flustered, the Doctor raised himself to a sitting position. His eyes reflected a flurry of emotions, too quick for Charley to sort through, before settling on overwhelming concern. "Charley, what's the matter?"
"Where do I start?" She began helplessly. The dam of emotions she'd held at bay broke, and everything came pouring out at once. "Should I begin with my questions you seem bent on ignoring? Or with your behaviour? Or with these games you seem intent on playing with me? I can't quite decide if you are truly so obtuse, or if you know full well what you're doing, Doctor."
Charley stared hard at her own hands, gripped quite tightly around her knees now, as though trying to hold herself together. "One moment you're holding onto me like I'm going to disappear if you let go, and the next you're bounding off like a child who's grown tired of his toy, moving on to something else."
She could feel hot tears pricking at her eyes, and she swiped at them angrily. Charley stole a glance toward the Doctor, and her frustration and hopelessness only grew with his bewildered expression. "I just..." A heavy, heart-weary sigh escaped her lips. "I just want to know where I stand now. In a universe that thinks me dead." She paused. "And I want to know where I stand with you."
"Where you...?" Breathed the Doctor, softly. "Charley, I..."
She rested her forehead on her knees, listening to him flounder for words. Charley braced herself for the worst. It would be the only explanation for his erratic behaviour, surely. She could hear it all now, as ready as she could be to hear him say that this was over, their adventures were at an end, for who would want to travel along with a silly human girl so driven by these trivial kinds of emotions?
There was a long and unexpected pause instead. The only sound was the shuffling as the Doctor drew nearer. Charley refused to lift her head, her stubborness and heartache dizzying.
His tone was soft and hurt when he finally spoke. "Charley, do you really believe I think so little of you?"
Her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Charley held her breath.
The Doctor continued, near enough he barely had to speak above a whisper. "Charley... I can't answer your questions because I do not have the answers. You are here with me, you chose life. That is what I know. That's what matters to me right now. That's what's most important." He emphasized his words carefully, adding weight to some that made chills run over her skin.
Sensing there was more of what the Doctor wanted to say, Charley remained silent.
"As for the rest of... this," the Doctor resumed briefly, letting out a small huff of air in exasperation, "Charley... I'm quite terrified, if we're being completely honest."
It was Charley's turn to be confused. "Terrified? Of what?" She ventured carefully, lifting her head to peer cautiously at him. Her blue eyes locked with his sad, grey-blue ones, and their intensity caught her off guard.
"Of what you are capable of doing to me." He replied.
"Doctor..." Charley began, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Was this real? Surely, she must be dreaming. The Doctor was never like this. At least, Charley had never seen him like this before, aside from in her deepest dreams. The dreams that left her twisting and restless and sensitive in her bed, alone. She licked her lips nervously, wondering if she was misreading the Doctor's intent.
She watched as his gaze dropped to follow the darting path of her tongue, lingering a moment on her soft lips, before flickering back up to meet her eyes again. Heat rushed through to her core, and Charley's heart raced. Was it... could it be that the Doctor felt the same way as she? That perhaps this attraction wasn't as one sided as it had appeared?
Before Charley could speak again, she was silenced by the delicate pressure of the Doctor's lips against hers. She was blindsided by the unexpected kiss, it was so tender and chaste. Charley sighed against his mouth as he pulled away briefly, before a rush of boldness flooded her and she leaned forward to recapture his mouth.
The slight groan that purred in the back of the Doctor's throat spurred her on. Without breaking the kiss, Charley shifted her position until she was leaning him back slightly, kneeling over him. She felt the hand not supporting his weight grasp at the nape of her neck as the Doctor gently began to pull her down beside him on the blanket.
It was Charley's turn to moan gently as the Doctor's hand cupped her face, his tongue gently teasing at her lips until she opened the kiss. The tangled dance of their mouths increased in fervour as they explored every texture available, familiarizing themselves with the taste of each other.
She was surprised at the blazing intensity of the kiss, and how quickly it had become something much more. His hands were everywhere – ghosting along her arms and back, tangling in her mess of short blonde hair, tracing the curve of her collarbone – touches so delicate, as though she were glass and would shatter if he gripped her too fiercely.
Charley, for her part, reciprocated with enthusiasm. She feared hesitating even for a moment, lest it break the spell that had befallen them. She wanted to memorize it all, from the feel of the satin-backed waistcoat he wore as her hand slipped over it, to the crispness of the linen wingtip he wore underneath it as she gripped it, pulling him over her. The faint taste of tea in his kiss. The thundering rhythm of his hearts pounding in his chest as they pressed together. How he gasped sharply when Charley managed to pry the edge of his shirt from his trousers and ran her fingers along the smooth skin of his back, the Doctor arching into her touch.
She needed to memorize it all, in case tomorrow this all turned out to be a dream, or some shared illusion never to be repeated. Charley would keep the memory of these moments locked tightly away, revisiting them when she was alone in the darkness of her room.
The Doctor pulled back sharply as Charley began to liberate the remainder of his shirttails. She could've cursed him, then and there, for they way he looked. Had he any idea of how beautiful he was? The sharp angles of his cheekbones were flushed with colour, eyes glittering and deep in the shadows of the night. The Doctor's kiss-swollen mouth hung open slightly, the smooth curve of his lower lip begging to be nipped and pulled into her own mouth. His body a poem entwined with hers, lean and sleek, but bearing a tantalizing power hidden just below the surface.
"Charley," her name fell from his lips, reverently but with an edge of warning. The Doctor ran a long fingered hand along her arm until he could pull it from him, and wound it tightly in his own. "Are you..." He faltered. "That is, is this... I know women from your time were usually..." The Doctor stumbled and stuttered, for once his silver tongue failing him, words jumbling and jangling in his throat before they could be spoken.
Now Charley flushed, grasping the meaning of his strangled sentences. The heat that had been pooling so deliciously in her centre blazed outward in embarrassment. Had he expected her to be shy, to be fearful? Charley knew other girls from her school days had been mostly quiet about the subject, hushed whispers and rumours and tittering gossip in the ladies' rooms.
She had never been 'that girl', though. Certainly, she could play the docile when necessary, like before her mother, but it was never true in her heart. She was strong, and she knew it. After these months of traveling with the Doctor, Charley had only become more aware of the bravery and inner strength she carried.
The first night aboard the TARDIS, staring at the blinding glory of the universe spread out before her, Charley had promised herself that she wouldn't waste a moment of this adventure. That she wouldn't hold back or deny herself the gift of this journey. She would become the Edwardian Adventuress she'd always dreamed.
And if that meant she had to occasionally take a Time Lord by the lapels, tell him to shut up, and kiss him so hard that any doubts were burned from his thoughts, then so be it.
His ensuing moan as Charley move from kissing him firmly on the mouth, to nipping along the line of his firm jaw, was more than enough to convince her that she had made the right decision.
The Doctor nuzzled against her shoulder, one hand moving aside the neckline of her nightdress to better access the sweep of skin from shoulder to earlobe. Charley gasped and whimpered as the Doctor placed increasingly fiery kisses along her neck, teeth grazing her skin as he traveled downward. As he latched onto the dip of her collarbone, she wondered briefly if he'd leave a mark, and knowing in this moment, she could care less.