Who: Turlough and Veronica
When: Evening
Where: The Pool
What: Avoiding sleep
Turlough sat quietly, staring into the pool. He was still in his uniform, but his trousers were rolled up and his feet were dangling in the water. His shoes were beside him, his socks rolled up inside. Despite his contemplative humour, he was facing the doors, so someone with a devious mind couldn't just come up and shove him in the pool.
He'd get over it, being a strong swimmer, but it was aggravation he didn't need. Not with Donna here. Goodness knows he'd not been squeaky clean of late, but that was no excuse for Donna to treat him like he was some kind of deviant, especially seeing as she'd have no knowledge of any of his past misdeeds.
That was just exasperating his problems, though. He'd been finding it nearly impossible to sleep these days, dreams of the Black Guardian and a Time War. Even though he'd never experienced the thing, he'd been through enough that his experience was perfectly capable of filling in the gaps.
Kicking his feet absently in the water was oddly soothing.