The Doctor realized that she wasn't with him, but he kept narrating nonetheless. She wasn't used to the running, and his excitement had worn her out. He could tell, too, that she'd withdrawn from him, even since they arrived here. Since she'd gone native and he'd accused her of trying to destroy the world that she was, in reality, trying to save in her own little human way. He sighed. He would never admit it out loud, but even his Time Lord mental faculties could never quite figure out humans. Particularly female humans. He'd spent so much time around them, maybe too much time, and still they managed to surprise, delight, and infuriate him in a way no other type of being could. Miranda was just another in that long line.

He felt the whisper of the TARDIS on the edge of his mind, she was trying to say something but not to him. He patted the wall in the hallway as he walked slowly back toward the control room. "She's only human, sexy. She's not quite the type to pick up on your communiques." He felt another ripple, like a chuckle or a song, and he smiled. By all things good in the universe, he did love his ship.

Miranda was asleep in one of the captain's chairs, but he made no effort to be quiet as he sprinted up the metal steps, each one ringing dully in the huge space. She didn't move, and he ignored her as he set about punching control buttons, asking his TARDIS for a few favors and a little bit of chemistry. He felt another brief caress of the mind, a sign of affection from his ship, perhaps, or sympathy. He acknowledged it, then brushed it aside. He had a lot of work to do before the compound would work on her. The supply he generally carried was tailored to Time Lord physiology. He could only imagine what using that on her would do. So he was rearranging the bio-adaptable material to the human genome. He could do it, but he needed to focus.

He worked for hours - 3 hours, 47 minutes, and 22 seconds, by Earth time. He liked Earth time. It was a little unwieldy - he would never understand why they didn't break it down into a base 10 system, or their brilliant little adaptation of leap years, but he liked it. He could feel it tick by in his head now, and had grown so used to it that he measured all time by that, if he felt like measuring time. There wasn't often need to.

At 3 hours, 47 minutes, and 23 seconds, she finally stirred. He set down his science project - it would win any science fair on Earth, or a hundred other planets that were still in their toddler stages of science. He could feel her moving, though her steps were oddly silent. She was stealthy, he would give her that. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the scent of her on the air. It was intoxicating, as it always was. The taste for immediacy and whatever lay just beyond the accessible, was so distinctly human. It was why he loved Earth so much. Why he loved humans. At the moment, he just wasn't sure about her.

She didn't ask him about what he was doing. She stepped around him, not even acknowledging he was there, admiring the ship. He hated being ignored when he was feeling impressive, but the way she was looking, awe-struck, at each piece of equipment, it was almost as good. He didn't hold it against her. After all, with his daft old face with nose and ears too big for the head they were on, the TARDIS was a much more attractive piece of eye candy. He let her look, catching her out of the corner of his eye and smiling to himself. She walked behind him, still those silent footsteps, and he lost track of her for a moment while he pretended to be focused on his work. When she didn't reappear, he went back to work, though his mind was on where she could possibly wander off to.

"Hey. Want some tea?" She was standing a few feet from him, watching him work, a steaming cup of tea in each hand.

He wondered how long she'd been there, but grinned. "That would be fantastic, thanks." He took it from her. He loved tea just about as much as he loved bananas. He noticed she took hers black too, and filed that away in his memory. "This stuff's practically ready, if you wanna get that scar off your head." She sipped her tea silently, watching him. It made him nervous. "Then there's plenty of time for a tour 'round the TARDIS if you'd like."

"That would be nice," she confirmed quietly. He didn't know what he'd done to lose her, but it was clear that he was, indeed, losing her. He resolved to do what he could to prevent it. He held a hand out to her, pretending not to notice the hesitation in her arm when she finally took it.

"You must have found the kitchen," he began, walking slowly down the steps as each of them sipped their tea. He felt his fingers buzz with the warmth of her, and he unconsciously looped his fingers through hers. "And I've been terrible and not even showed you where you could lay down. Captain's chair's not exactly comfortable."

"It wasn't bad, actually. Hardly a crick in my neck." Her eyes were casting about, lighting on each thing for only a moment before moving on. "I'm just not used to your level of energy. Next time maybe you should choose a marathon runner." She said it flatly, and though he thought she was joking, he wasn't sure.

"Nah, you're just fine. No marathon's needed. I just get carried away, forget that two hearts and a respiratory bypass system are such an advantage when running."

"Superior Time Lord physiology." A small smile played on her lips.

"Quite right." He stopped by a door and had to let go of her hand to open it. "This room's the closest to the control room, if you'd like it. It's not much now, but we can work on that."

She walked to the middle of the room and turned around slowly. There was a bed and a small dresser. Not much else. It occurred to her that she didn't have much else. "This will do wonderfully." It also occurred to her he'd probably drop her off somewhere soon, so she wouldn't need to get more used to the place than to a hotel. "Thanks."

"Did you want to, um, lie down for a bit? I can just…" He made for the exit.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get a bandage of some sort for all this." She made a vague gesture toward her face. "But then I'd like to see a bit more of the TARDIS." She forced it out of her, but she didn't know if she'd ever get another chance. "Please."

He finished his tea and set it down on the dresser. "Of course. You should know your way around. I tend to get distracted." He grinned again, and she felt a reflection of it on her face. She offered her hand tentatively to him. He took it and led her to the medical bay. It wasn't fancy at first glance, but she was sure that every cabinet held a material or an instrument that any surgeon on Earth would kill for. He put on a glove and dipped his thumb in the small container of goop he'd brought along, then smoothed it over her forehead. It burned, and she flinched, but the coolness of his breath made her shiver. He pretended not to notice. After a moment, the burning stopped, and he wiped her forehead clean with a cloth. "There you are. There's a mirror just there if you want to clean the blood off your face."

He handed her a clean cloth and turned away from her out of courtesy. She stood quietly and wiped the cloth over her face, removing the grime from her nap on the grass, little bits of blackness she assumed were from the explosion, and the blood that had no obvious source now. There wasn't even a scar where a few minutes before had been a rather impressively bleeding cut. She gave her face one last wipe with the clean side of the cloth before tossing it in the hazardous materials bin. She figured her blood was probably hazardous. Feeling mostly cleaned up, she walked up to the Doctor, sliding her hand into his.

They walked in silence for a while, the Doctor suppressing his need to narrate, letting her soak in the ship. The TARDIS was really a grand piece of machinery, and so much more than that. She asked questions now and again, and he nearly tripped over himself to answer them. Mostly, there was silence between the two, but even that spoke volumes. It was a terse silence at first, and the crackling energy the Doctor seemed to feel where there hands met was startling in its intensity.

It mellowed though, into a companionable quiet. He found himself watching her, catching her eye occasionally when she was watching him. They were both nervous. He hadn't been this nervous around a companion before. Then again, he had always been able to take them home. But as they walked through the winding hallways of the TARDIS, the silence was almost friendly.

He had stopped to fix a door that wasn't quite shutting right, his sonic screwdriver in hand. She was leaning against the door frame across the hallway, watching him. He liked the opportunity to show off. She was content enough too. He didn't seem as eager to throw her out of his ship now, though she wasn't sure how that had come about. She'd lingered with her own thoughts during the walk, and imagined that he'd done the same.

As he worked, she began to hum. It was the song from her dream, and she was surprised that she remembered it at all. It began under her breath, quiet and almost a part of the buzz of the TARDIS. Even he, with his well-attuned senses, didn't pick it up at first. That was how it snuck up on him, like a memory that he'd half-forgotten in all of his incarnations. The notes were familiar to him, just as they had been to her, but he had memories - so many memories - associated with the music.

The song flowed out of her easily, and as he worked, she grew louder. She admired him working. He knew what he was doing, and treated the ship gently, as though he could hurt her in some way. Miranda imagined that he could. The ship was more than a ship, after all. More than that, she admired him. His lanky build was torqued to fit into the small space, and she could see the focused look on his features. She decided she rather liked his ears and nose being a bit too big for the rest of his face. She remembered how she used to think of him, when he was fictional and she only knew little bits about him. How she imagined someone admiring just those bits of him. Now, in the present, she blushed. He wasn't fictional.

The Doctor turned when he was nearly done, a look of realization breaking across his face. "How do you know that song?"

She stopped humming, considering the question. "Dunno. I guess I must have heard it before. I was just dreaming about it when I was napping."

He seemed to see her differently for a moment, as though she was not there before. "You dreamt it? When you were asleep in the TARDIS?"

"Well, yeah. But I must have heard it some other time."

"You didn't." He said it with such force of will that she knew it was true, but neither of them offered an alternative explanation. After a weighty silence, he asked a question she didn't want to consider.

"Did you dream anything else?"

"There were some other things, but they were foggy. I really only remember the song."

"I see." She was telling a half-truth, and that was obvious to both of them.

"How do you know the song, Doctor?" She pushed off the wall, and for a moment her balance was tilted forward. He put an arm out to steady her, and she rocked back onto her heels, holding his elbow lightly.

"It's a song for children, when they get scared at night. Back home."

"Gallifrey."

He stared at her. "Yeah. How did you know that?"

"Oh, right. The same way I knew who you were. It's hearsay, I suppose, the way I came by all that. A TV show that I only watched now and again. But some things stick." He didn't respond. "Did someone sing it to you?"

He nodded, his fingers sliding loosely down her arm to her hand. His fingertips traced lines on her palm subconsciously, then settled into the spaces between hers. "My mother sang it to me when I was small. I sang it to my children, once upon a time, too."

She squeezed his hand. "They must have loved that." It had never occurred to her that he'd had children.

She wondered if she should ask him about them. The way he spoke, though, contained so much pain that she was hesitant. Maybe another time, if they trusted one another. She wasn't sure she trusted him. But she didn't like the idea of him hurting.

"I think they did..." He grinned so suddenly that it caught her off guard. "The voice was never quite as nice as yours though. Wanna see the swimming pool?" He tugged at her arm and they started down the hall again, the repair of the door forgotten. She wondered if he'd even finished it. They walked past a garden full of moonflowers - "depending on the time in London, it's either morning glories, 5 o'clocks, or moonflowers," he said - and a room that looked distinctly like a library. She'd have to check on that later.

She felt the humidity rise as they got closer and breathed it in. It was like summer on the beach of Lake Michigan, and she missed it already. She'd only been here, on this ship, with him, a day. Maybe only a few hours. But the realization of her decision's permanence reasserted itself every once in a while. "Here it is! Purest water in existence, right off the planet Ectin. Keep it heated off the TARDIS' circuitry coils. Makes it real nice after a cold planet. There should be a swimming costume in the wardrobe for you."

She smiled brightly at him. "So Doctor, are you a trunks or speedo kind of guy?" She was teasing, but to her surprise, he only stammered a bit and blushed.

"I'll have a to find a pair of swimming shorts somewhere." She laughed and he looked at her defensively. "What? Wasn't like I had anybody around to save from the sight!"

"You're telling me you went skinny dipping?" She was still laughing.

"On my own ship? Of course!" He was looking anywhere but her.

She nudged his shoulder with her own. "Wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable. Maybe I should just adapt to TARDIS tradition, hm?" The blush crept all the way up his ears and she remembered her thoughts from earlier. Now it was her turn to blush. She let go of his hand and turned away from him so he wouldn't see. Give it a minute for the heat to act on her, blame the flush in her skin on that, blame the words on the hangover from whatever she'd breathed in near the factory. She could practically feel his mouth opening and closing as he fished for something to say. Her own mind was racing, attempting to find a reason why she'd said it. Was she flirting with him? What possessed her?

She was on the opposite end of the pool from him, and could feel the warmth of the water as it rose. Space was cold, but at least the pool and the gardens were warm. She'd have to remember that. She thought about taking off her shoes and dangling her feet in, but she didn't feel like dirtying the purest water on the planet with her grime until after she took a shower. "I might take a dip later, after I get a chance to check the wardrobe for a swimsuit." She offered him a friendly smile, nothing more, and he seemed to take it. "But if you could show me where I can clean up? I think this dress might be ruined, though." She frowned down at herself.

"Doubt it. The TARDIS laundry is just amazing. And we can take it to the tailors on Geizhakaro! Now that's a planet, Miranda, that you just have to see to believe – fashion capital of the 4th Great and Bounteous Human Empire! The designs they do there! Well, some aren't exactly comfortable, but still gorgeous. We can get your dress mended there. And any other dresses you might like."

"And swim trunks?" She laughed and scrunched up her nose.

"Those too, I suppose." He blushed again, but met her eye this time, giving her a wink. She felt her heart skip a beat and then do double time. She pulled her hand away in case he could feel it.

"So… the shower?" She quirked an eyebrow in question and he returned very suddenly from his mental trip to Geizhakaro – or wherever else his mind had wandered off to.

"Right! Shower. It's just this way, near your room and all. It's not an en suite or anything – only hospitality ships really have those, but it's comfy and all yours, really."

"You've got your own?"

"Oh, yes! Wouldn't do to have to be trying to share a shower would it?"

She smirked. "No, not at all." He was digging himself such a big hole. They had stopped by a door marked with something that looked like the symbol for the safety shower in her high school chemistry class. "There towels inside?"

"Yep!" He stood there, hands in his pockets, grinning madly. She wrapped her arms around his torso, and after a long minute, he returned the gesture.

"Thanks, Doctor."

"Best thank you I've ever gotten for pointing out the shower," he said cheekily.

"Best location for a shower ever." She pulled away from the hug slowly, glad to see he was still smiling. "I'll be done in a jiffy. Don't do anything crazy without me."

"I'd never!" He faked offense.

She only laughed as she closed the door behind her.