| Date: 13 January 2008
Characters: The Tenth Doctor, Professor Yana Location: hotel room Link to IJ: thread #35004 |
 He certainly didn't need a lot of sleep - not by human standards, anyway - but he couldn't go forever without, either. Eventually, he got tired. Eventually, he needed to go the hell to bed.When eventually rolled around, he was left with a choice. He could go back to the TARDIS, which had infinite space, and damn near as much possibility for people who could have a key and come waltzing in, or he could have a hotel room with less physical space and chance of having unexpected (and possibly unhappy) company. He was worn the hell out, from talking to past and future and alternatives to the people he'd loved and lost and killed and hated and fought with and, apparently, fucked or been fucked by and oh, what did it matter? He just wanted somewhere to curl up, go to sleep, and be left in peace. Which did not explain how he ended up passing by a lot of completely empty rooms to go to Professor Yana's. Maybe he was more self-destructive than he thought, but he didn't really want to be alone and of all the people here, Professor Yana was who he felt safest with. So, he let himself into his room. He crawled into his bed and curled up facing the door. He fell asleep waiting for the old man to get back. |
 The Professor stepped in the door and reached automatically for the light switch...and then stopped before turning the lights on. Well. He hadn't been expecting to find the Doctor curled up in his bed.He'd come back to his room for that book that he was finally going to take back to the library. The lamplight was enough to see by, and he walked over to the nightstand to get his book, not sure if he should wake the Doctor up or let him sleep. |
| When he heard the Professor moving across the room, he rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Oh, finally make it back did you?" He sounded like a naggy wife. |
| "By all means, make yourself at home." He was trying for sarcasm, but the look in his eyes was more like amusement. |
| "Can I really?" He asked, eyes light with sleepy humor. "Do believe I will." He grabbed the Professor by the waist coat, scooted backwards in the bed and pulled him down. |
| He was taken by surprise, but got his hands down to catch himself, one on the Doctor's shoulder and one on the bed beside him. He started to turn on his side, to roll off of the Doctor, but he grinned and looked down at him instead. "You might want to rethink this," he said. |
| He lifted his eyebrows. "I only want to rethink it if you think you're going to lie there all night." He was going to fall backwards off the bed if he wasn't careful, is what he was going to do. He poked the Professor in the ribs, anyway. "You're not exactly light, Professor." |
| The Professor, still amused, moved over and turned onto his side facing the Doctor, his head propped on his hand. "Should have thought of that before." |
| "I didn't think you were going to topple like a tree!" He wiggled himself back onto the bed and rolled back over onto his side. "Where were you, anyway?" |
| The Professor waved vaguely. "Oh, just wandering." |
| "Wandering where?" |
| "Have you seen the shop that has all the gadgets in it? Intricate little clockwork...things. Animals and solar systems and such. I was down there for...probably quite a while." |
| "I haven't, but I'm going to." He glanced out the window. "Tomorrow. Or the day after. Solar systems? Any you recognized?" |
| "Not really. There were a couple with two suns, and one with three. Clever little things." |
| "Never seen a solar system with more than one - well, never seen a solar system with one sun that works, have you?" |
| "I've seen solar systems with more than one thing that used to be a sun, does that count? But no, the stars had all given up the ghost long before I was born." |
| "You really are a man out of time. If I could find a way to go back in my time-line, it would be worth it just to show you what's really out there." |
| "I'd love to see it." He got still and quiet, then, and he was looking down at the bedspread rather than at the Doctor when he said, "To see it as myself, I mean." |
| "As yourself?" he asked, very carefully. Well , for him. "What'd you mean?" |
| He looked up, met the Doctor's eyes. "I met a man the other day who was calling himself Harold Saxon." |
| "He's not you. You aren't him. It's. More complicated than that." |
| "Explain it to me, then." |
| "Don't know if I can," he admitted, looking very slightly pained. "You're you. Oh, some part of him wanted to be you, but. " He paused and then went on, sounding as though he was talking to himself. "A man is the sum of his memories, a Time Lord even more so." His eyes focused, back on the Professor, and his voice went back to normal. "Your memories are your own. He might have them, in some small part, but you've none of his. You are not him." |
| "But I was him. I will be him again. He wants to take over planets, Doctor. Is there any way to stop him? To stop me--" He broke off, made a noise almost like a growl. "Oh, this is a ridiculous conversation. I've never wanted to take over anything in my life." That didn't change the fact that he was serious about stopping him. |
| "He doesn't take over anything, doesn't even change anything. Just a lot of bluff and bluster and desperation with no where to go. Bit like being stuck at the end of the universe, really. You're not him. You can't be him because you don't remember being him, and he can't be you, because he's too broken to be." |
| "Bluff and bluster and desperation sounds about right," he admitted. "It's just..." He rubbed his eyes. "I don't know what it is. Confusing. It feels like free fall. Like what I thought was the floor is the ceiling, or the wall. Even if it doesn't change anything, it feels like it does." |
| He reached out and put his hand on the Professor's wrist. "Do you remember your life?" |
| "Of course." |
| "What's the very first thing you remember? Earliest memory - just spit it out." |
| "Waking up in my parents' house--my adopted parents--and not knowing where I was." Or who, but that made him a little sick to think about now. "My father telling me it was going to be all right, not to worry about it, we'd figure it out. Trying to calm me down because my head was killing me." |
| "You figured it out now. Your head's not killing you. You're not at the end of the universe. I promise you, everything's going to work out just fine, and the floor's still the floor." |
| "Gravity still works, that's good to know." He was trying for flippant and not quite making it. He took a couple of deep breaths. "My head's not killing me because of you. Which I appreciate immensely, by the way." |
| He rubbed his thumb over the inside of the Professor's wrist, awkwardly. "My pleasure. You're fine Professor. You've got a whole life, and it's not not real. I just didn't let him kill you." |
| "Not not real is an interesting way of putting it," he said, raising an eyebrow as if at a student who'd written a sloppy essay. He was getting his footing again, and teasing the Doctor was practically instinctive. He wasn't thinking about didn't let him kill you. There weren't many things he wasn't curious about, but that statement he had no desire to know more about at all. |
| "It's a lazy way of putting it, but if it makes you make that face I'll consider it a good one." He grinned, a little. |
| That got the Doctor the eyebrow again, but this time there was enough amusement in his eyes to spoil the effect. "Did you come here for any particular reason, or is my bed just more comfortable than yours?" |
| He scratched a hand through his hair, making it even wilder than it had been. "Let me ask you a question, Professor. How do you feel about sex?" |
| The Professor blinked. Whatever he'd expected the Doctor to say, that wasn't it. "...In general, or in particular?" he asked, after a moment. |
| He managed, somehow not to smirk. It was a near thing, though. "In general." |
| "From what I can recall," he said dryly, "I'm generally in favor." If someone who is not his very young, idealistic assistant manages to get past his general obliviousness, anyway. |
| "In favor in what particular way?" he asked, squinting a little. "Just what do you recall?" |
| He grinned and shook his head. "Where are you going with this?" |
| "I'm hoping like hell you're not going to try to get into my pants." |
| That surprised a laugh out of him. "Your pants are perfectly safe from me." |
| "Then yeah, I'm comfortable in your bed." |
| "Well, that's good, since you seem to be in it. Been having a problem with that lately? People trying to get into your pants?" He was trying not to laugh. But not trying that hard. |
| He smacked the Professor lightly in the arm. "There's a lot of Jack around." |
| "Oh, that explains it. Wait a minute. Are you hiding from Jack in my room? How old are you again?" |
| "Not old enough to not be hiding from Jack in your room," he said, unapologetic in the extreme. |
| He laughed. "Sounds about right. Well, that's fine, you can hide in my room if you want to." |
| "That's good, because I already was." |
| "Really? I hadn't noticed." |
| "Are you going to sleep any time soon, or are you going to take out your sexual frustration on me?" |
| "Oh, yes, because I'm the one who keeps bringing up sex in this conversation." He rolled his eyes, but his tone was amused. |
| "I want to know what you're remembering!" Had nothing to do with sex, actually, and everything to do with his utter inability to let anything go. Ever. |
| "Didn't you say something about sleeping? Go back to sleep, there's an idea." |
| "I can't go back to sleep now!" |
| "Well, I can." |
| He sighed. "Oh, fine." |
| "Good." He yawned. He hadn't actually thought he was sleepy until right about now. He'd just been arguing because it was entertaining. And seemed very natural. |
| He lifted his eyebrows, and shifted around in the bed. "Darn it, what are you remembering!" |
| "Not telling." |
| "Why not?" |
| "Because I don't want to. I want to go to sleep." He didn't care if he sounded four years old. |
| "You think I'm going to let you sleep until you tell me?" |
| "Hmm, listen, is that Jack I hear out there in the hallway? I'm sure he'd be happy to tell you all kinds of stories." |
| He sighed heavily. "Fine. You win. For now." He grinned. |
| He grinned back, because he couldn't not, and because it was a win, even if it was temporary. "I'll take what I can get. And what I'm planning on taking now is a nap." |
| "That's fine, I'm going back to sleep, too. Turn the light off." |
| "I think I can manage that." He turned the light off and then settled back down where he had been, on his side facing the Doctor. |
| He curled up, back to the Professor, and pulled a pillow under his head. |