Why the Doctor Never Stays
Title: Why the Doctor Never Stays
Characters/Pairings: Two/Jamie, Two/Zoe
Rating: PG
Beta: vandonovan
A/N: Written for the Second Doctor cliche ficathon for jedi_penguin who asked for "A drunken Companion propositions the Doctor. The Doctor assumes that the pass was entirely due to booze and that s/he needs to be protected from him/herself."
The Doctor watched Jamie from a distance. Upon discovering that the Hagrian airflute was the same thing as a bagpipe, Jamie had taken up with the orchestra. He was quite an accomplished player, the Doctor noticed. He’d have to find the boy some bagpipes of his own. His last incarnation picked some up somewhere, but he had no idea where they were now. Probably buried in a disused wardrobe deep in the TARDIS.
The ballroom was filled to capacity with dancers and general merriment. The Doctor sat on a settee at the end of the room, watching the blur of people move before him. He hated to linger after putting right whatever had gone wrong, but this time Jamie and Zoe had managed to convince him to stay. The reinstated King wanted to throw a party in their honour, and while the Doctor was content with just a job well done, Jamie and Zoe positively begged to stay. They wanted to party, to relax, to celebrate. As he stared into their tired faces, he read the exhaustion and weariness in their eyes. The Doctor relented.
Again, the Doctor’s eyes settled on Jamie hidden among the other members of the orchestra. He was clearly enjoying himself, and a smile crept to the Doctor’s face. It made him happy to see his friends enjoying themselves. Tearing his eyes away from Jamie, the Doctor began to look for Zoe.
The Queen was quite taken with Zoe, and had insisted on dressing her in the kingdom’s finest silks. Eventually the Doctor spotted her. She was dancing with a man the Doctor had never seen before, but he wasn’t worried: every time he saw Zoe she was on the arm of someone different. The Queen was treating this as a coming out ball, and Zoe loved it. Her cheeks were flushed as the handsome man in military formals swept her around the room.
Reassured that Zoe was enjoying herself, the Doctor sat back to listen to the music and watch the crowds. Several people had stopped to talk to him, and he carried on a conversation like the gentleman he was. But, like with any party, they would eventually move on to talk to someone else. The Doctor had pinched a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped it gingerly. It was remarkably sweet and after a moment his body told him that the alcoholic content was lower than most champagnes: virtually non-existent.
Leaning back, the Doctor sipped again and returned to watching the dancing couples. The ladies were enchanting, the men were charming, the music was fabulous and the décor glorious. For a moment, the Doctor honestly couldn’t remember why he never stayed for the inevitable celebrations.
As the evening wore on, people began to gradually filter from the room. The Doctor knew well enough that it was getting very late, or very early, and his friends were going to be exhausted the following day. He’d just have to stay an extra day to allow them to recuperate. Looking around the room, he decided that there were considerably worse places he could be stranded at for a day.
So wrapped up in his thoughts, the Doctor hadn’t seen Zoe approach. “Hello, Doctor,” she said, slipping onto the seat beside him, her eyes slightly glassy.
“Hello, Zoe. Had a good time?”
“Oh, yesh. Yesh.” She frowned and tried the word again. “Yesh.” Finally she smiled and giggled.
The Doctor stared. “What have you been drinking?”
Zoe’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. After a full five seconds, a slur of vowels and consonants came pouring forth. “I just had a few glasses of champagne.” She deliberately closed her mouth, and after a moment, she licked her lips as if remembering the taste of the golden liquid.
The Doctor stood. Reaching out, he took Zoe’s hands and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled, her arms flailing, trying to grab at anything to keep her upright. Her arms found the Doctor’s middle and she fell against him. “Oh, you’re so sweet,” she slurred.
Taking a deep breath, the Doctor could smell the alcohol. The champagne wasn’t that strong, but she must have had at least ten glasses. That, combined with her size and her inexperience with the effects of alcohol, and she was toasted.
Pulling her upright, and trying to maintain some sense of decorum, the Doctor began ushering Zoe from the room. “Come on. You need some sleep.”
“Oh!” Zoe burst out giggling. “You’re taking me to bed?” Her cheeks were flushed, and her smile was not completely innocent.
The Doctor ignored her implication as best he could. “You need some sleep. You’ll feel better once that alcohol has worked out of your system.” He steered her past the orchestra and his eyes met Jamie’s for a second. If he understood the boy’s expression, it was one of amusement. Why couldn’t he put down the airflute and help him with Zoe? Jamie kept playing and turned his eyes away from the Doctor, an obvious smile on his lips.
Directing Zoe out of the ballroom and toward the grand staircase was easier than he anticipated. She was soused enough that she was bordering on unconsciousness. He doubted whether she would be able to climb the stairs, and was about to pick her up to carry her, when she announced, “I’m just as good as Jamie, you know, Doctor! Better in fact, because I’m a girl!”
The Doctor nearly dropped her. Not only was he taken aback by the revelation that she knew of his relationship with Jamie, but her very loud and public announcement caused several people to stop and stare. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. The ball had been thrown in their honour, and now Zoe was managing to make fools out of all of them. Tucking his arm very tightly around her waist, he began helping her up the stairs. “Zoe,” he hissed in her ear, “I think we should discuss this elsewhere.” His tone was serious.
Unfortunately, Zoe was too drunk to notice the Doctor’s apprehension. “I mean I get that you love him, but he’s a boy! Don’t you find girls attractive, too?”
Again, the Doctor sighed. “Yes, Zoe, I do, but can this wait, please?”
In reply, Zoe collapsed against the Doctor, her mouth mumbling something resembling words, but what could have been an impression of a swarm of bees.
Having finally managed to get Zoe to the top of the stairs, the Doctor began guiding her down the corridor. Zoe’s inability to put one foot in front of the other was causing problems, but eventually, he managed to get her to her room. Getting the door open was easy, as was getting her into the room. However, getting her to her bed wasn’t.
Once the door was closed, Zoe flung her arms around the Doctor’s neck and began planting very sloppy kisses on his mouth, cheeks and wherever else they happened to land.
Pulling her arms away from him, the Doctor held them in his own and stared seriously into her face. He doubted that she would actually remember this in the morning. The sudden desire to spend the night with her welled up within him, but he fought it down. No, if Zoe really wanted him, she would have said so while she was sober. Besides, he knew that she would want to remember it. Added to that, Jamie was expected in his own bed that night. “Zoe, listen to me. You’re ill. You need to sleep. We’ll be staying all day tomorrow to let you rest, and once you’re sober, then we can discuss it. Until then, you need to sleep.”
Zoe stared blankly at the Doctor before blinking slowly and nodding. With that, she collapsed against the Doctor, unconscious.
With a relieved sigh, the Doctor scooped her into his arms and carried her to her bed. He carefully set her down and pulled the blanket over her. He’d call a maid to come in and remove her dress; he wasn’t willing to go quite that far. Not yet.
? ? ?
He felt the blankets being pulled aside, and the familiar form of Jamie being pressed up against him. “Have a good time?” he asked, not turning to face him.
“Aye,” Jamie said, sliding an arm around the Doctor. “Did you get Zoe to bed all right?”
With that, the Doctor turned to face him. “Did you know she’d been drinking?”
“Oh, aye. I could see a lot up there with the rest of the musicians.”
“And you didn’t think to stop her?”
“Why?”
“Drinking to excess--”
Jamie stopped the impending tirade with a gentle kiss. “She was having fun.”
The Doctor relented. He returned Jamie’s affection before saying, “We may have some problems with her tomorrow.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for one thing, she knows about us.”
“Aye. What else?”
“You knew?”
Jamie nodded. “I told her.”
“You what?!”
“She asked!”
The Doctor sat up in the bed and stared down at Jamie’s form next to him. “She kissed me,” he said softly.
Jamie’s patient expression slowly changed to an amused one, then he began to giggle. “So, what do we do about it?”
“I don’t know.” The Doctor settled back down under the blankets with Jamie. “Any suggestions?”
Jamie did have a suggestion or two, but they had nothing to do with Zoe.
? ? ?
When Zoe’s brain struggled toward alertness the following afternoon, she had the distinct impression of doing something very silly the night before. The maid drew her a bath and left her clothes on the edge of the bed. When she finally left the room an hour later, she had cleaned herself up and eaten, but still could not remember what had happened.
The Doctor greeted her, but looked distinctly embarrassed, and Jamie had a rather boyish grin on his face. Obviously the two had spent the night together.
With sudden clarity, Zoe remembered what she had said. What she had done. She stared at both her friends, trying not to let her shame show on her face. Fortunately, the King and Queen wanting to say their goodbyes rescued her. Finally, the trio made their way to the TARDIS, the Doctor uncertain, Jamie amused and Zoe embarrassed.
Once they were alone in the console room, Zoe decided it was time to broach the subject. Even though she was too embarrassed, she managed to apologize profusely to the Doctor for not only losing control and drinking too much, but also for her lack of discretion.
The Doctor patted her shoulder and smiled kindly. “Don’t worry about it, Zoe. I’m sure it was just a one time thing.”
She nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, I won’t do it again. I would never put you in that kind of position.” Zoe couldn’t help but notice the almost crestfallen look on the Doctor’s face.
The Doctor nodded. “Oh. Well, all right, then.”
Zoe smiled.
? ? ?
That night, the Doctor felt the blankets being pulled aside and he turned over to welcome Jamie into his bed. When his nose caught the distinctly feminine scent of Zoe, he smiled and pulled her towards him.
Characters/Pairings: Two/Jamie, Two/Zoe
Rating: PG
Beta: vandonovan
A/N: Written for the Second Doctor cliche ficathon for jedi_penguin who asked for "A drunken Companion propositions the Doctor. The Doctor assumes that the pass was entirely due to booze and that s/he needs to be protected from him/herself."
The Doctor watched Jamie from a distance. Upon discovering that the Hagrian airflute was the same thing as a bagpipe, Jamie had taken up with the orchestra. He was quite an accomplished player, the Doctor noticed. He’d have to find the boy some bagpipes of his own. His last incarnation picked some up somewhere, but he had no idea where they were now. Probably buried in a disused wardrobe deep in the TARDIS.
The ballroom was filled to capacity with dancers and general merriment. The Doctor sat on a settee at the end of the room, watching the blur of people move before him. He hated to linger after putting right whatever had gone wrong, but this time Jamie and Zoe had managed to convince him to stay. The reinstated King wanted to throw a party in their honour, and while the Doctor was content with just a job well done, Jamie and Zoe positively begged to stay. They wanted to party, to relax, to celebrate. As he stared into their tired faces, he read the exhaustion and weariness in their eyes. The Doctor relented.
Again, the Doctor’s eyes settled on Jamie hidden among the other members of the orchestra. He was clearly enjoying himself, and a smile crept to the Doctor’s face. It made him happy to see his friends enjoying themselves. Tearing his eyes away from Jamie, the Doctor began to look for Zoe.
The Queen was quite taken with Zoe, and had insisted on dressing her in the kingdom’s finest silks. Eventually the Doctor spotted her. She was dancing with a man the Doctor had never seen before, but he wasn’t worried: every time he saw Zoe she was on the arm of someone different. The Queen was treating this as a coming out ball, and Zoe loved it. Her cheeks were flushed as the handsome man in military formals swept her around the room.
Reassured that Zoe was enjoying herself, the Doctor sat back to listen to the music and watch the crowds. Several people had stopped to talk to him, and he carried on a conversation like the gentleman he was. But, like with any party, they would eventually move on to talk to someone else. The Doctor had pinched a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped it gingerly. It was remarkably sweet and after a moment his body told him that the alcoholic content was lower than most champagnes: virtually non-existent.
Leaning back, the Doctor sipped again and returned to watching the dancing couples. The ladies were enchanting, the men were charming, the music was fabulous and the décor glorious. For a moment, the Doctor honestly couldn’t remember why he never stayed for the inevitable celebrations.
As the evening wore on, people began to gradually filter from the room. The Doctor knew well enough that it was getting very late, or very early, and his friends were going to be exhausted the following day. He’d just have to stay an extra day to allow them to recuperate. Looking around the room, he decided that there were considerably worse places he could be stranded at for a day.
So wrapped up in his thoughts, the Doctor hadn’t seen Zoe approach. “Hello, Doctor,” she said, slipping onto the seat beside him, her eyes slightly glassy.
“Hello, Zoe. Had a good time?”
“Oh, yesh. Yesh.” She frowned and tried the word again. “Yesh.” Finally she smiled and giggled.
The Doctor stared. “What have you been drinking?”
Zoe’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. After a full five seconds, a slur of vowels and consonants came pouring forth. “I just had a few glasses of champagne.” She deliberately closed her mouth, and after a moment, she licked her lips as if remembering the taste of the golden liquid.
The Doctor stood. Reaching out, he took Zoe’s hands and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled, her arms flailing, trying to grab at anything to keep her upright. Her arms found the Doctor’s middle and she fell against him. “Oh, you’re so sweet,” she slurred.
Taking a deep breath, the Doctor could smell the alcohol. The champagne wasn’t that strong, but she must have had at least ten glasses. That, combined with her size and her inexperience with the effects of alcohol, and she was toasted.
Pulling her upright, and trying to maintain some sense of decorum, the Doctor began ushering Zoe from the room. “Come on. You need some sleep.”
“Oh!” Zoe burst out giggling. “You’re taking me to bed?” Her cheeks were flushed, and her smile was not completely innocent.
The Doctor ignored her implication as best he could. “You need some sleep. You’ll feel better once that alcohol has worked out of your system.” He steered her past the orchestra and his eyes met Jamie’s for a second. If he understood the boy’s expression, it was one of amusement. Why couldn’t he put down the airflute and help him with Zoe? Jamie kept playing and turned his eyes away from the Doctor, an obvious smile on his lips.
Directing Zoe out of the ballroom and toward the grand staircase was easier than he anticipated. She was soused enough that she was bordering on unconsciousness. He doubted whether she would be able to climb the stairs, and was about to pick her up to carry her, when she announced, “I’m just as good as Jamie, you know, Doctor! Better in fact, because I’m a girl!”
The Doctor nearly dropped her. Not only was he taken aback by the revelation that she knew of his relationship with Jamie, but her very loud and public announcement caused several people to stop and stare. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. The ball had been thrown in their honour, and now Zoe was managing to make fools out of all of them. Tucking his arm very tightly around her waist, he began helping her up the stairs. “Zoe,” he hissed in her ear, “I think we should discuss this elsewhere.” His tone was serious.
Unfortunately, Zoe was too drunk to notice the Doctor’s apprehension. “I mean I get that you love him, but he’s a boy! Don’t you find girls attractive, too?”
Again, the Doctor sighed. “Yes, Zoe, I do, but can this wait, please?”
In reply, Zoe collapsed against the Doctor, her mouth mumbling something resembling words, but what could have been an impression of a swarm of bees.
Having finally managed to get Zoe to the top of the stairs, the Doctor began guiding her down the corridor. Zoe’s inability to put one foot in front of the other was causing problems, but eventually, he managed to get her to her room. Getting the door open was easy, as was getting her into the room. However, getting her to her bed wasn’t.
Once the door was closed, Zoe flung her arms around the Doctor’s neck and began planting very sloppy kisses on his mouth, cheeks and wherever else they happened to land.
Pulling her arms away from him, the Doctor held them in his own and stared seriously into her face. He doubted that she would actually remember this in the morning. The sudden desire to spend the night with her welled up within him, but he fought it down. No, if Zoe really wanted him, she would have said so while she was sober. Besides, he knew that she would want to remember it. Added to that, Jamie was expected in his own bed that night. “Zoe, listen to me. You’re ill. You need to sleep. We’ll be staying all day tomorrow to let you rest, and once you’re sober, then we can discuss it. Until then, you need to sleep.”
Zoe stared blankly at the Doctor before blinking slowly and nodding. With that, she collapsed against the Doctor, unconscious.
With a relieved sigh, the Doctor scooped her into his arms and carried her to her bed. He carefully set her down and pulled the blanket over her. He’d call a maid to come in and remove her dress; he wasn’t willing to go quite that far. Not yet.
? ? ?
He felt the blankets being pulled aside, and the familiar form of Jamie being pressed up against him. “Have a good time?” he asked, not turning to face him.
“Aye,” Jamie said, sliding an arm around the Doctor. “Did you get Zoe to bed all right?”
With that, the Doctor turned to face him. “Did you know she’d been drinking?”
“Oh, aye. I could see a lot up there with the rest of the musicians.”
“And you didn’t think to stop her?”
“Why?”
“Drinking to excess--”
Jamie stopped the impending tirade with a gentle kiss. “She was having fun.”
The Doctor relented. He returned Jamie’s affection before saying, “We may have some problems with her tomorrow.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for one thing, she knows about us.”
“Aye. What else?”
“You knew?”
Jamie nodded. “I told her.”
“You what?!”
“She asked!”
The Doctor sat up in the bed and stared down at Jamie’s form next to him. “She kissed me,” he said softly.
Jamie’s patient expression slowly changed to an amused one, then he began to giggle. “So, what do we do about it?”
“I don’t know.” The Doctor settled back down under the blankets with Jamie. “Any suggestions?”
Jamie did have a suggestion or two, but they had nothing to do with Zoe.
? ? ?
When Zoe’s brain struggled toward alertness the following afternoon, she had the distinct impression of doing something very silly the night before. The maid drew her a bath and left her clothes on the edge of the bed. When she finally left the room an hour later, she had cleaned herself up and eaten, but still could not remember what had happened.
The Doctor greeted her, but looked distinctly embarrassed, and Jamie had a rather boyish grin on his face. Obviously the two had spent the night together.
With sudden clarity, Zoe remembered what she had said. What she had done. She stared at both her friends, trying not to let her shame show on her face. Fortunately, the King and Queen wanting to say their goodbyes rescued her. Finally, the trio made their way to the TARDIS, the Doctor uncertain, Jamie amused and Zoe embarrassed.
Once they were alone in the console room, Zoe decided it was time to broach the subject. Even though she was too embarrassed, she managed to apologize profusely to the Doctor for not only losing control and drinking too much, but also for her lack of discretion.
The Doctor patted her shoulder and smiled kindly. “Don’t worry about it, Zoe. I’m sure it was just a one time thing.”
She nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, I won’t do it again. I would never put you in that kind of position.” Zoe couldn’t help but notice the almost crestfallen look on the Doctor’s face.
The Doctor nodded. “Oh. Well, all right, then.”
Zoe smiled.
? ? ?
That night, the Doctor felt the blankets being pulled aside and he turned over to welcome Jamie into his bed. When his nose caught the distinctly feminine scent of Zoe, he smiled and pulled her towards him.