The library, my home away from home. The one place I felt completely safe in, regardless of the possible death I may have faced earlier in the day. Or even worse, the embarrassing run in with the Professor. Maybe I had that a bit backwards. Still, it was the place I came to escape the insanity of…well, everything. It could be overwhelming, the time traveling space ship, the constant threat of death, the liquor cabinet that was filled with forty-two different types of Caribbean rum, and yet only about a dozen were actually from earth.

Actually, some days, that cabinet helped more than it hurt.

Still, I was happy here. It wasn't a room in a spaceship. It was a room with books, and shelves. Standard normal humany crap. It was my place of tranquility. Inner peace. I was feeling perfectly happy about about the fact that I was a semi-insane time traveling adventurer. Nothing could bother me here.

"Are you feeling alright?" His voice startled me so badly that I jumped, something that you really don't want to do at the top of an eight foot ladder.

Really, don't.

My arms flew out and latched to the sturdy bookcase the ladder was leaning against, catching my balance. The book I had been holding didn't fare so great. It took a nosedive for the floor and landed with a heavy thud on it's spine. If books could speak, it probably would have screamed. And then said something obscene. And if it had legs, it probably would have marched back up the ladder and kicked my uncoordinated ass. Don't mess with books.

"Sorry," apparently he had noticed my less than graceful reaction to his arrival. "Donna said she was worried, when you disappeared so quickly."

Certain that I had a firm grip on 'not falling to my death from a ladder' I turned to face the source. The Professor was staring up at me, somehow having breached my domain with me being total unaware. I'd need an alarm bell or something for that. Or maybe just one of those cat collars that jingled.

"So?" He stooped down and plucked the book off the floor, holding it out for me to take. The way he was staring reminded me that he had asked something, and possibly expected an answer. I was still trying to get caught up on what the hell he was doing in my domain. But it seemed rude to just come right out and ask like that.

"What are you doing here?" Nope, pulling the curse out hadn't made it sound any nicer. Oops. I hadn't really tried very hard to sound nice though, possibly due to the fact that my heart was still up in my throat from thinking that I was going to go flying down the ladder. And, he really wasn't supposed to be here. No one was supposed to be here. There was an unwritten rule that this was my place to retreat, as it was by far the most normal thing on the spaceship that was bigger on the inside.

And a centuries old alien who could regenerate after death really damaged the whole 'normal' bit.

The scowl he was giving me reminded me that I was already sort of lowering the bar with my own presence, but that wasn't the point.

"Sorry," I shook my head, trying to sound like I didn't want to hit him with the book. "It's sort of my fortress of solitude. And you surprised the hell out of me."

"I apologize for that, Fitzgerald." Ugh. I hated that. Despite everyone else calling me Fitz, the Professor flat out refused. It was like living with my mother all over again. "Donna mentioned that you seemed bothered when you returned. And you failed to show up for a meal. It also doesn't appear that you've gone back to your quarters…"

I looked down at my rather grubby clothing, the same outfit I had been wearing while we had all been running for our lives. It was covered in crumbled plaster, bits of whatever had been in the 'forbidden pool', and a few scorch marks. The Professor, of course, looked recently showered and groomed, just like he always did. The black slacks and dark navy buttoned down shirt outclassed my jeans and t-shirt ensemble so badly it wasn't even a competition. I swear I was less of a hobo than I looked, it's just that book organizing was dirty work. Books always got dusty, especially old books.

But then, no where else on the TARDIS was dirty. Ever…

Which really meant that the ship was making some kind of artificial dust, to make it seem more normal. Which now had the complete opposite effect. I was starting to think the TARDIS had entirely too much time on her hands.

"What?" He was still watching me, looking for some kind of response if his penetrating gaze was anything to go on.

"I asked if you were alright," he said, even though he didn't roll his eyes, I could hear it in his voice that he desperately wanted to. "You seemed…upset after the incident with the sentries."

'Upset' was probably the polite way of putting it. I may have looked at Donna when she came to greet us and shouted something like 'these two are idiots' or something to that effect. Getting nearly vaporized had put me in a foul mood, but it had been replaced pretty quickly with my humiliating memory of getting very close and very vertical with the Professor. That had permanent trauma written all over it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Totally fine." I plastered a grin on my face, hoping he wouldn't notice that my ears had started to go a bit pinkish. "Thought I'd take it easy. I hear it's less shoot-y in libraries."

"Oh, you'd be surprised." The corner of his mouth curled up ever so slightly.

"Do you harbor some secret vendetta against books?" Yet another reason to keep him out of my library.

"No, actually. I rather like books. But I am recalling a particularly violent trip through one of the Four Quadrant Libraries. Seems the Silurians are rather attached to their ancient tomes. It was just unfortunate it was one that I was stealing at the time." Of all the memories he'd managed to keep, one of them was a violent robbery in which he was the villain. What a shocker. Apparently time lords weren't big on chess, or fishing, or any other boring pastime.

"I'm sure that was a hoot," I rolled my eyes, having less restraint. I slowly turned back toward my books. "So…are you remembering things?" I made sure I looked intently focused on the book in my hand, not at all like I cared about the answer. Or like I were prodding. If I looked at him now, he's see right through my casual demeanor, all the way to my blatant lies. And then after that, he'd probably read my mind, to find out what exactly I had been lying about.

It was sad that there was no doubt in my mind that he was capable of those things. He had told me that that wasn't really how it worked, but he was probably lying. He was always lying. And if he had those abilities before, who was to say he didn't still have them?

That wasn't something I could just dismiss. That was something I'd have to wonder about, and fear, and grow increasingly paranoid about. That was the sort of thing I was good at. The logical part of my brain, that is to say, the very very small part, told me that I was being silly. The Doctor would have warned me about something like that. He wouldn't just let us travel alongside the Professor if he was seriously dangerous. Or he would at the very least give us a warning.

'Hey, maybe the Professor will go nuts, worm his way into your head, and kill us all. But maybe not! Hah'

That seemed like the exact kind of warning he would give. Then again, I was recalling some of our previous adventures. Everything we did was dangerous. I had yet to hear any kind of warning, or small disclaimer.

So much for feeling reassured.

"Not really," I was pulled back into the present and somewhat relieved to hear the Professor wasn't remembering things. The last thing I needed to drop onto my conspiracy paranoid platter of insanity, was the knowledge that the Professor remembered all of the skeevy things we had been up to. "Sometimes I catch bits and pieces. Dreams mostly. I try to sketch what I can."

"Oh yeah, forgot you were the 'artist'" I said with a smirk, risking a quick glance back, but his frown caught me by surprise.

"How did you know that?" His eyes had narrowed and he looked increasingly suspicious. Always testy, why was he always testy? That was a stupid question. Like asking why rain was wet. Some people just had sticks up their…well. Some people were just more of a 'challenge' than others. The Professor happened to be one of them.

"Because I've seen your drawings, dummy. You know, when we were…" I realized my mistake just a second after it would have been useful to me. My mouth kind of hung open. You idiot, he was suspicious because for all he knew, you hadn't seen his drawings. So now it sounded like I was a stalker. Peachy. "Well, before you were…" There had to be a way to backpedal out of this tactfully. "You."

Nope. That wasn't the way to do it. Not at all.

He did look less suspicious, so that was a positive. He also looked a bit like a very rigid tree. An angry rigid tree.

"Er. Well, I mean, not- It was just before. You drew something for me. Before." It wasn't really proper grammar, or even a complete thought, but it was more tactful that what I was thinking. 'Before you died' seemed like a step in the wrong direction, so I was reasonably pleased. "I'm sorry," I sighed. "Sometimes I forget that you're not-" Him? Was I really just going to say that? Out loud? I had been doing so well! Why hadn't I just stopped? It was a little weird to hear myself say it, how could I forget? He was a total stranger. A tall, dark, jaggedy cheekboned man who had replaced my shorter, fairer psychopath. And yet, here I was, admitting that I was forgetting there was supposed to be a difference.

What was distracting was the fact that he didn't seem to be angrier at my total inability to be polite. In fact, he look really really bewildered.

"I made you a gift?" He wasn't just confused looking now, it was like, a mountain of confusion, mixed with a heavy face slap of surprise. Which probably matched my expression, since I had no idea what he was talking about for a good handful of heartbeats.

"What? No!" I blurted out a little quickly. Possibly sounding more horrified than I had intended. "They were just parts. You were looking for parts at Torchwood. You had to sketch them out so I knew what to look for." It all came out in a rush, a panicked rush, but he seemed to understand the gist of it.

"Parts?" I was glad to see the bewilderment was gone, but not so excited to be rehashing the past. Since I had mentioned that I didn't really want to. Yet, here I was, doing it anyway. He really was a crafty tricky bastard.

"Yeah," I paused to take a breath. "You were making a vortex…thing." Most of the details had gone a little fuzzy. That wasn't my fault, these were advanced super alien technologies, I couldn't be expected to remember every little thing. Besides, he had caught me totally off guard. At least I remembered some of it, unlike other people I knew.

Too soon?

Probably.

"Anyway, you drew the parts you needed. I mentioned you were pretty good. You said you used to like to draw." There, that wasn't so bad. A perfectly harmless trip down memory lane. What had I been so worried about?

"I see," he said, nodding. "And were we successful?"

"What?" More questions, that had been what I was worried about. Him asking questions. Because they inevitably led to answers. And sooner or later, it would probably be an awkward one.

"Did we rebuild the vortex thing." He raised his eyebrow and it was obvious that smug little bastard knew exactly the word I needed. It was just more important to mock my limited vocabulary. Of course, when it came to rude names to call him, I had a whole god damn thesaurus. Maybe my priorities were a little skewed, but I preferred it that way.

"Sort of," I huffed, turning back to my books. "Before you could really get it to work, the Doctor showed up. There was some confusion on our plan to deal with that," I shot him an annoyed glance before returning to the shelf. I didn't care if he didn't remember, that was still his fault. "So I had a bit of a…scuffle with the Doctor." It just now occurred to me how hard I had actually hit him. Probably time to get around to apologizing for that.

"You attacked the Doctor?" It was impossible to tell if he were more shocked by the idea, or amused.

"Yeah, well, you told me he was a bad guy."

"Is he?" His voice had a dark edge to it. Someone had serious trust issues.

"No, you idiot. You lied to me." Ah yes, the name calling did feel good. I should really make a habit of that.

"Ah," he said, as though that were the obvious answer. It was nice to know I wasn't going to have to remind him he was generally a lying scumbag. One more thing off my 'to-do' list. Yippee. "How did we come to travel with the Doctor?"

I sighed, the progress on my shelving hadn't actually 'progressed' since he had arrived. Actually, it had taken a few steps back, since I had sort of thrown a few books onto the shelf to make it look like I was important and had things I could be doing. The book in my hand now had been there for the past five minutes, I was still no closer to deciding if it went with the biographies or the fictional non-fiction life accounts.

It was complicated.

"Well, I beaned the Doctor in the head, you worked on the vortex manipulator." Point for me, remembering the word. Small victory is still a victory. "But Jack got back into the room before you were finished. Shot me. You tried to escape with your crappy manipulator, but failed miserably. I think. I was pretty out of it, and when I came to, we were on the TARDIS." I thought that pretty much covered everything, but the Professor didn't look happy about it. Actually, he was in angry tree mode again.

"Jack? Jack Harkness? He shot you?"

"Relax, it was just a dart," it hadn't really felt like a dart at the time, maybe closer to a giant fist sized saw-blade. "A big tranquilizer dart. But it's fine now." I shrugged, he didn't seem to be relaxing. "Really. Stop making that face, it happened forever ago, and you don't even remember it." Maybe it wasn't exactly forever, but still, it was a ways back. "I'm fine, the Doctor's fine. Jack apologized, a lot." Though I had probably made us even when I had kicked him hard enough to bruise several of his ribs. Was that another apology I forgot? Oops.

"I'm not making a face."

"Yes. You are. It's your murdery face. It was scary then, and it's scary now."

"Do I scare you?" His dark look was broken up by the slight upward curl of his lips.

"Only all of the time." I snorted. That wiped some of the smirk off his face.

"Then why did you come with me?" And that was the exact kind of awkward questioning I had feared. Having to admit that maybe when he wandered into my workplace, wearing that totally unfamiliar face, I kind of hoped he might remember. I also didn't want to admit that maybe I didn't care as much as I did before. "The first time, when I approached you. Why did you agree to come along?"

"Oh," I breathed a sigh of relief. That answer was loads easier. "I wouldn't really say I agreed. But at the time, I was being chased by very alien aliens who scared me a bit more than you. They were blue, and full of electricity, and…stretchy." I shuddered, remembering how completely unnatural that had been. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." That, and I was too full of crazy to consider my options. Not that I'd really had any.

"The Joulex-" He stopped and stared blankly into space. And stayed that way until the silence started to get uncomfortable.

"Er…Professor?"I took a couple steps down on the ladder. The last thing I needed was for him to go totally bananas here in my sanctuary. Wasn't I supposed to be the one who blacked out? I kind of preferred it that way, only because I had no idea what I was supposed to do if I was in charge. Play solitaire until he wakes up? That seemed like the wrong answer.

"It's fine," he blinked several times, finally focusing his pale blue eyes back on me. "I thought maybe…" He shook his head. "It's nothing. Sorry."

I made a valiant effort not to look at him like he was crazy. After all, if either one of us was crazy, it was probably me. Or definitely. Yeah, it would have definitely been me.

"So after the Doctor-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," so far I had dodged a bullet, it didn't mean I'd be that lucky forever. Actually, if my memory serves, I'm incredibly unlucky. "Remember when I mentioned how I didn't want to talk about it?"

"Yes…"

"I still don't." It was better to stop him now, because it was only a matter of time before he asked a question that would leave me red faced and sputtering. And then it wouldn't really be that hard for him to figure out what I was so sputtery and embarrassed about.

"Is there any particular reason you refuse to discuss what happened?" His tone verged on irritable. Good, he could have a nice little pouty fit. There was no way it could be any worse than the conversation I envisioned in my nightmares.

"Yes." I said in a clipped tone.

"Would you care to explai-"

"Nope." I smiled cheerfully at him over my shoulder and that shut him up. Maybe now I could actually get some work done. The silence stretched on so long that I actually thought he had stormed off. Maybe I felt a little bad about that, possibly because I had been rude. But hey, these books weren't going to organize themselves.

"Why are you doing that?" His voice wasn't hostile any more, just curious. I was happy to say I didn't jump, or even drop a book. Which was really too bad, because now he was close enough under the ladder that I could have hit him with it. He nodded toward the shelves, hinting that he was asking about the books. So he was off the history topic. That was something.

Or, it was a trick. I'd have to be vigilant.

"It was all screwed up. This whole section was grouped by color. And not even in any kind of pattern. Do you know how insane that is?" And if I was asking that question, it was bound to be a bad sign. This whole wall was killing my inner librarian. A shelf of red, then green. Then purples and yellows mixed together. Who does that? "They at least need to be in the right topic. And alphabetized by author." Just so long as I could find an author. Something I was having some trouble with. Occasionally. Not being able to read the words was a challenge. Not being able to recognize the lettering as any known language was even more of one.

"Yes, I see that. I was more asking why you were physically doing it. The ship is more than capable of changing it to however you'd like. I doubt very much that the Doctor went to the effort of doing this all himself, though it certainly seems to be his style."

Well…probably because it hadn't really occurred to me. Which was stupid. Obviously a ship that could move furniture from room to room, keep my closet completely organized, and hold an infinite variety of graham crackers in it's cupboards could probably rearrange a few books. At least it might if had thought to ask.

Then again, it hadn't occurred to me because that wouldn't have been very normal at all. And would have pretty much destroyed the only reason I liked being in here.

"Cause I like to," I shrugged, pressing my hand against the rows of books. "I think she likes it too. Likes the books being handled. Feels kind of like hanging out with an old friend." Who I also had neglected to visit in the ole holodeck. But to be fair, that place was constantly in my nightmares. My sanity wasn't quite ready for me to go in there in the waking world.

And then I heard what I had actually said, and felt like an idiot. "Sorry. That sounded really stupid." I blinked, realizing he was still watching me.

"No," he pulled a face, like he was trying to be nice. Nice? That was a new trick. "Well. Perhaps a bit. But it does make a strange sort of sense." Ugh, at this point I'd almost rather he would just laugh at me. "I suppose that's fitting though. Seeing how you're so strange."

I shot him a dark look, but he was smiling. A joke. He had made another joke. Right? I guess the smirk on his face could just mean he was laughing at me. It was always hard to tell.

"Yes, well. Strangeness suits me."

"It certainly does seem to." That garnered another suspicious look from me, but it didn't really sound like he was being rude. It might have sounded like a compliment. I mean, a sort of backhanded, completely unintentional, and mildly insulting, veiled compliment. But still. Even that was weird. How do I react to that? Am I supposed to laugh? Or yell? Or maybe try and drop this book on his head?

The last one was the most tempting, but probably not for the right reasons.

"I bet that charm of yours makes you a real hit with the ladies."

Wait.

What?

Why? What did I just say?

I can't be sure, but that sounded like I was trying to flirt. Are you flirting? Are you flirting with the Professor who isn't the Professor? God dammit! That was not one of the options I gave you. Why couldn't I just listen when my gut told me to hit him in the head with a book? Why do I never screen the things I say before they come out of my mouth? Is it because I hate myself? Or maybe I actually enjoy feeling like an idiot all the time.

"Only the strange ones." There was that look again. The one that reminded me very specifically of the last time lord I had flirted with. Who…was technically the same one I was flirting with now.

No.

The one I was not flirting with.

And he was most definitely not flirting back.

"Hah," I said weakly, because I literally had no idea what else to say, especially not with those icy eyes of his melting my brain into a nervous puddle. "You wish." There, that was casual. Not weird at all.

The ground bounced beneath my feet and the lights flicked off. I clutched at the ladder, feeling much less comfortable at this height than I had thirty seconds earlier. I opened my mouth to scream, but the jolt had already subsided.

"Um. What happened?" My voice sounded squeaky in the dark. Well, it probably sounded the same, regardless of the lights. It was me feeling vulnerable and uncertain in the sudden darkness six feet in the air.

"I'm not entirely sure," his voice sounded distant, like he had turned away. "Perhaps you should get down, in any case."

"I…I can't." I was completely frozen in place. My fingers were gripping the wood so hard I was certain they were going to fuse to the ladder. "It's too dark." There was no up or down, just blackness. Nothing like a good healthy reminder that I was out in the middle of space. Where humans weren't meant to survive. It was freaking me right out.

"Yes, well. It's a ladder. I imagine it works much in the same way." His condescending tone had the intended effect, I felt like my limbs could move again. Ever so slowly, I pried my fingers off the bar. My driving motivation was to slap him, hard. I took one step down, and when the world didn't explode, I breathed a sigh of relief. I could do this. I took another, and released my other hand. Feeling silly that I had been so petrified before.

That was my mistake right there. The lights flickered back on, dimmer than before, but that wasn't what concerned me. It was the violent shaking of the floor, up and down, and side to side. This time I didn't have as sturdy a grip, and the shaking didn't stop so much as continue to try and throw my from my perch.

When time slowed down, as I was falling to certain death. I spent it trying to get in all that last minute swearing. That and grabbing uselessly at the air as I tipped backwards, headfirst toward the ground. This was always how it was going to end for me. Some incredibly stupid and moronic fashion. I couldn't go out skydiving, or saving puppies from a burning building. It had to be falling off a damn ladder.

But then someone was ruining my grossly pathetic dive of death. Someone bony, with freaky fast reflexes. The ground finally stopped shaking, and what looked like emergency lights glowed yellow high in the recesses of the ceiling. Unfortunately it gave me just enough light to recognize the Professor as the one who was looming over me, keeping me from smashing my head against the floor.

"Are you alright?" There had to be some way to get out of this with at least a shred of my dignity left. But from where I was laying, hammocked between his arms and where my foot was still tangled in the ladder, I really couldn't see it.

I considered lying about being hurt, but I knew he'd catch me instantly. You know what would be vastly more embarrassing than falling like an idiot? Getting caught trying to lie about it.

Not by a whole lot though.

"I'm okay." I mumbled, still struggling to unhook my foot. Awkward as ass. I was never going to live long enough to forget this. Ever.

"Here, let me-" He hooked his arm under my legs, just as the ship started to shake again. He stumbled sideways, taking me with him and crashing into the bookshelves. I ducked my head down as several books came flying from above, battering against my shoulder, probably as pay back for dropping one of their kin. It continued for a good half minute before finally subsiding and the ship itself made a low groaning noise. Not a good noise.

When I was finally certain that the walls weren't going to come crashing down around me, I raised my head. Mostly because I had been using the Professor's shoulder as my shield. And also, I may have latched onto him with my arms in my panic.

I wonder if he-

Yeah. Crap. If I was interpreting that bizarre look he was giving me correctly, he had definitely noticed.

Someday, I'm going to find out just what I did in a past life to deserve this epic level of mortification.

"I'll set you down," He said because he thought I needed a warning. My face was starting to boil like a kettle and I was desperately trying to look anywhere but directly at him, despite the fact that I could feel his eyes boring into me like icy little laser beams. What was worse, was that he had made no move to put me down. He was going to, wasn't he? Because he really needed to. Ideally before I opened my mouth and said something awkward and stupid.

That put it at maybe another six seconds. Possibly only four with the way he was still staring at me.

"Oi!" Donna called out in the dim light. "You alright in there Fitz?" Gods it's bloody dark in here." She swore, as what sounded like her knee, crashed into a table while making her way into the library. He didn't exactly drop me, but it was pretty damn close. And somehow, faster than I could see him move, he was kneeling over the books, casually stacking them. As though we weren't even in the same room.

"Yeah, we're okay." I called out just as I saw her shadowy figure round the corner, limping slightly now.

"We? Who's we? Been talking to yourself again?" She snorted but stopped short as the Professor stood up, a healthy distance away. "Ooh. We." She said very pointedly, trying her best not to look smug. Which is to say, she didn't try very hard at all. I walked over to her while the Professor stacked up the books on a nearby table.

"Don't we me." I muttered, putting my hands on my hips. "You're the one who sent him in here." I thought Donna had moved past the whole 'match-maker' business, but clearly we needed to have another talk.

"I certainly did not, I know better than to fuss with you when you're in a tiff-"

"What has the Doctor done with the ship?" The Professor asked testily, interrupting my planned argument with Donna. Of course she had sent the Professor after me, that was her M.O. after all. Why would he lie about that?

Because he's a liar.

Well, that was something to obsess about later…

Donna raised her eyebrow and looked at me sharply. "Well, he's fried the primary generators. Thought it'd be interesting to see if he could replicate those stupid fusion rector-cores you found in those bloody robots. I told him it would fry the system, but you know the Doctor." She shook her head.

"Indeed. But why haven't you started the secondary system?"

Oh how I hated it when they went to spacey wacey talk.

"Apparently, he lost them in a game of Kulu with the high priestess of Rakash." She held up her hand pointedly. "And before you ask, I've no idea what he was thinking. Long story short, we're in need of a lift. Since the life support is running low, we're moving it all to the main control room. So, if either of you want to keep breathing, you should head that way. And," she looked at my clothing with a frown. "I'd get a jumper or two, or you're gonna freeze." Then with one more suspicious glance at the Professor, she turned and walked away, muttering about the need for extra flashlights.

Her brief glorious interruption had vanished, and she had left me behind. In the pool of awkwardness. I wanted to run after her, but that would have looked a little desperate. And I probably would have fallen into the pool on my way out.

"Never a dull moment." I sighed, kneeling down to stack up the rest of the books on the floor. It was silly, but my inner OCD couldn't just leave books scattered. Even if the room was about to be a lot less survivable.

"Yes, I had noticed." He helped carry the books over to the table and then I had nothing to do with my hands. Stupidly, I looked up at him, which was always a mistake. It didn't matter if there was air in the room or not, there was no way I could breathe under that kind of curious scrutiny. "Are you sure you're okay?"

If he asked me that ever again I was going to scream. "Yeah," I swallowed hard and made a show of dusting off my jeans. "Thanks for that, the whole 'saving me' bit." I should probably be more appreciative that we were just cleaning up books from the floor instead of fragments of my skull.

"Don't mention it," he gave a small smile. "I believe someone said that I still owe you a few."

"Yeah, well. I've always been a big fan of breathing, so we should…probably head out." Awkward girl is painfully awkward. But that's alright, because it was a segway, and that's all I needed to turn around and head for the door.