A/N: Oh my gosh. I'm sorry! School happened, and then my hands began to misbehave just as I was getting into the groove of violin lessons. I couldn't even type my final projects, never mind fanfiction. However, I've got some epicality to make up for it. For three weeks in a row, beginning now, there will be Monday updates, no matter if it takes me setting up my crappy microphone and using voice recognition to get it to you. I promise!
Disclaimer: I only own Ashe.
"Third lever, Ashe-red button, not green! One, two, three and we're there!"
I smile. It's a few days after the shopping trip, and my hands have healed fully, I'm spending my day-the equivalent of December 16-with the Doctor as he teaches me how to fly the TARDIS. My nightmares were awful last night, and I don't have the energy to speak. But luckily for me, he doesn't mind. To avoid wrecking my sense of time, I've arranged to stay with him until Earth has reached Christmas day.
My hands play with a length of twine as we walk into the kitchen for a snack. "Banana pudding sound good, Ashe?" I nod, taking it from him gratefully.
Thank you, I sign. The Doctor nods.
"I've got some repairs to make for a few hours. There's wrapping paper around here somewhere. Why don't you see if the TARDIS will help you find it?" he asks I smile, gulping down the remainder of my pudding before running off.
But when I enter my room to find twelve rolls of paper and four colors of ribbon on my bed, I ignore them. Instead, I grab the pencils and paper kept on my desk and run one hundred and twenty-two paces down the hall to the cozy room.
Since the first time I used it, the TARDIS has added a few more things. My sack still hangs in the center of the room, but the corner nearest the entrance has a small jungle gym, and a tiny trampoline and pillows take up the remaining space. I come here most days to relax while the Doctor fixes up the TARDIS. I'm pretty sure he just changes which system the library is sorted by, but I don't complain. I need my time alone.
Today, I climb inside my sack with paper and pencils. My picture is nearly complete, with only a small portion remaining to shade. I grab the clipboard I left in here last time I came and begin working. I've perfected my technique, and it should only take me twenty minutes.
Ten minutes through, I cough.
Then again.
No.
Let me finish, I beg myself.
And my brain listens.
The moment I finish, I drop the clipboard and pencils and succumb to a horrible coughing fit. I went with the Doctor to bring Martha more medicine two days ago, and I must have caught it then.
Once I'm done coughing, I bring my clipboard back to my room. The picture is placed in the frame, and I start wrapping the gifts. I don't tell the Doctor about my continuous coughs; he would just worry about me.
But after an hour of wrapping, the Doctor comes looking for me. I'm in the middle of a coughing fit at the time, so he doesn't knock on my door.
"Why didn't you come and find me, Ashe?" he mutters, holding me still as the cough subsides. "I could have given you something to stop it."
You would have worried, I sign, pulling away and sitting down on my bed. Besides, I'm fine.
"No you aren't." He offers his hand, and too tired to fight him, I accept it.
We walk to the medbay, taking a couple of breaks as I cough. When I don't give him permission to carry me, he only sighs and continues onward.
I don't let him sonic me, curling up on the bed in retaliation. I refuse the medicine he offers me, and I kick him when he tries to sit down.
Finally, he is fed up with my fussing. "Ashe, there are some things you should never do on the TARDIS. Number one: don't cross me, because she will always side with me." He takes a step back as the air begins to smell sickly sweet.
No, I think, but I'm already asleep.
When I wake up, I see the pale walls of the Zero Room. The Doctor is just outside, and I see him signing to me rapidly.
Start again, I spell. What?
Sorry. It's going to be a while before I can understand you, Ashe. Your DNA is different from all other humans I've met.
I can only stare as he walks away. How could I possibly have known that there were extra puzzle pieces in the box? Of course, it is genetic-I've known that for two years. But that was still a fairly recent discovery for humans. I spent some time researching it last year for school.
But for now, the Doctor doesn't know me perfectly.
And that is just the way I like it.
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