Fic: Stages of Suppression
Stages of Suppression
Doctor Who, Gallifrey Audios
Rating: NC-17
(explicit sex, violence)
Characters: Romana/Narvin.
Wordcount: 4,000ish
Summary: Romana doesn't know where Narvin even gets any of these feelings from.
A/N: Written for janeturenne as a tide-over fic for the morepolitics Gallifrey ficathon. Prompt (or what I got out of it) was basically: combative Romana/Narvin with aliens-made-them-realize-they-wanted-to-do-it. Now with added cliche. Betaed by the amazing aralias . Thanks a ton! Problems remaining are definitely mine.
Narvin was uncharacteristically silent. He'd been snidely commenting on everything from the Nekkistani architecture to the exactitude of the bows of their hosts ever since stepping out of their ship and on to Nekkistani soil. Romana had had to tell him to be quiet more than once. Now that she needed him to protest, however, he was being disappointingly diplomatic. It fell to her to play the offended party.
"I must protest, your Excellency," she said, keeping her tone level and moderate. "You understand how inviolate the mind of a Time Lord is."
"We understand your need for privacy,” said the diplomat, carefully. "But it is for your safety that we ask that the pair of you be bonded for your time on Nekkistan."
"You know that there have been threats against you," said another official. Their names were interchangeable to Romana. "Your guard must be aware of your presence at all times, but we can’t have tracking technology in our governmental halls. The bonding procedure is merely a happy compromise."
"Narvin," hissed Romana, "explain to them why this is an awful idea."
"It's actually a very good one," said Narvin. "I'm no happier than you about the infringement, but I'd rather have to share my personal mindspace with you than explain to anyone how I let the President get assassinated."
Romana wanted to groan, but she contented herself with a tiny frown instead. She nodded her consent and allowed the diplomats to convey them to the laboratory.
If only Braxiatel could have gone to these negotiations instead of having to attend a separate set of talks. Narvin would have hardly cared as much about him being murdered.
---
The procedure itself was rather dull. Romana simply had to sit with a metal band around her forehead while a correspondence was established between herself and Narvin. It was when the bands came off that things became interesting.
"You should simply feel each other's alarm," said the technician. "It should tell you when assistance is needed."
"I'm feeling a little more than that," said Romana, doubtfully. A mess of emotions was nudging up against her consciousness, far more emotions than she had ever thought Narvin possessed. Curiosity, annoyance, disapproval of something, or everything. A sudden bright worry, probably about things having gone wrong. The technician fiddled with something in his pocket, and a wave of hyperawareness and paranoia rushed over Romana, leaving her confused and drained.
"Rassilon," muttered Narvin. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then under his eyes, then just scrubbed his entire face with both hands. His next words were muffled a bit by the heels of his hands. "Do you feel like this all the time?"
"Ah," said the technician. "Yes. We were a little worried about that. Time Lords have a higher base rate of psychic sensitivity than we Nekkistani. You will probably experience a heightened range of sensed emotions."
"Wonderful," said Romana. It was fortunate that she was such a subdued individual. Narvin's own roil of emotions was becoming worse, almost unbearable. She glared at him.
"I think I'm getting a headache," he said, faintly.
"Sorry," said the technician, wincing a little in sympathy. "You should adjust soon."
"Pull yourself together, Narvin," said Romana. "For my sake, at least."
"It would really help if you stopped being annoyed with me," said Narvin. "Just for a moment, as impossible as that effort might seem."
"I’m no more annoyed with you than usual," said Romana.
"Then I count myself lucky that you have never had the ability to kill me with your brain before," said Narvin.
Romana was about to make a rejoinder, but then he straightened up, still looking pale, and another bout of pain and unhappiness hit her. Further discussion would probably be counterproductive. Romana closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing instead.
The awareness of Narvin's emotions gradually dialed back to the point where Romana's stomach didn't churn when someone made a sudden movement, and Narvin didn’t flinch whenever anyone said something to her. Dealing with the Nekkistani diplomatic corps was more difficult than usual, now, but not impossible.
"A success, then," said the lead diplomat, making the eyebrow movement that equated a smile. "We can disengage the bond once our business has been conducted."
"Wonderful," said Romana.
"And, as a bonus, your psychic awareness of each other will allow us to conduct negotiations without the presence of the CIA Coordinator."
"Now hold on," said Narvin, annoyed and suspicious. “You can’t actually leave me out of negotiations about temporal security. You know who I am, you just said my title.”
"It will be easier to work without your influence, Narvin," said Romana. A neat bout of table-turning served him right for encouraging this bonding nonsense. “Others might have doubts about your neutrality. I can’t imagine why, but there you have it.”
The ensuing argument was curtailed not only by the observing Nekkistani, but also by the emotions that kept battering against Romana's consciousness. She could tell the same was happening to Narvin.
"I'm not going to stay in our rooms all day," said Narvin, rubbing at his forehead. "Half the reason I'm here is to advise you on policy."
"Which you can do between meetings," said Romana. "You can sit out in the hall during them." She ignored the frustration that that evoked.
---
Establishing a proper enforcement group for temporal incidents was tedious and difficult. It required a prodigious number of simultaneously spinning plates, which was why Romana was speaking with the Nekkistani rather than Braxiatel. Normally this minor sort of negotiation would be exactly the sort of thing he liked best, but instead he was already completely occupied with trying to get the Time Agency to tone themselves down a little and not interfere with the various forms of ongoing diplomacy. It would not be amusing at all if talks broke down because the Time Agency started turning up in people’s pasts (and probably pants as well) and convincing them to vote for giving control of temporal security over to them.
At least everyone could agree on something. No one wanted to let the upstart Human Time Agency run around and change things, even if it meant letting the vilified Gallifreyan CIA take care of things for a little longer. The only problem was convincing the other powers to stay out of the temporal security business, which was proving difficult. Romana had to strike the right balance between playing the experienced elder government and falling into the Gallifreyan stereotype of pompous idiocy.
Still, Romana felt justified in letting her attention wander as innumerable transportation chiefs weighed in on subsection b, or beta, or blue, or however their classification system worked. Narvin was in a slow simmer of annoyance and paranoia, as usual. He was probably so used to the emotions that he didn't even realize he was feeling them. Romana tapped her fingers on the table as she tried to determine what invisible emotions she herself might be experiencing at that very moment.
"Madam President?" asked one of the diplomats. "We're breaking for the evening. We could escort you to a dinner-"
"Thank you," said Romana, stirring herself out of the uncomfortable chair. "But I think I'd prefer to have a private meal."
"Wise," said another diplomat, a gruff older Nekkistani. "Security has been worried about the threats from the globalist fringe."
"Not that there could be any actual danger," said the first diplomat, hastily, and Romana gave them both a nod as she left the conference room.
"Done for the day?" asked Narvin, getting up from his chair in the hall and following her toward their rooms. "You realize that if you had been attacked, I wouldn't have been able to get into the conference room in time."
“Not you as well," said Romana, in exasperation. "The threats are nothing more than threats, but even if they were real I would hardly need to be protected while in the negotiations. Your paranoia is even more irritating when I can feel it haunting me physically rather than only metaphorically."
"I can tell," said Narvin. "But you have to realize that each and every person on this planet is a potential threat. Leela would say the same."
"Leela's every word is not some pearl of wisdom," said Romana. She thought she was being reasonable, but she saw Narvin wince, and his gait stumbled a little. "Oh, now you'll tell me that I have hidden feelings of resentment, or something."
"Far be it from me to tell the Lady President what to think," said Narvin. This time Romana did feel her own amusement and Narvin narrowed his eyes. "Except on matters of security."
"If you don't stop worrying at me," said Romana, "I am going to tell Leela you were harassing me after having usurped her place."
The tenor of Narvin's thoughts shifted immediately from the annoying flavor of concern to a rather more jarring sense of amused condescension.
"Hiding behind your savage, Lady President? I thought you had more weapons than to resort to that."
I’m not as sharp as you believe me to be, thought Romana, and winced when she realized that Narvin could probably read that.
"I'm only getting excessive amounts of self-pity," Narvin informed her. He was wearing his idiotic smirk and projecting a surprised smugness. "I wouldn't have thought someone with so large an ego and so much stubborn self-confidence even had a concept of self-pity."
"There you have it, then," said Romana. She struggled to push her feelings deeper aside, but she wasn't used to the effort. Normally her moods suppressed themselves without much effort on her part. "I, on the other hand, am not surprised at all by the wealth of odious emotions you seem to possess, Narvin."
"You bring them out in me," he said, whatever that was supposed to mean.
She was getting self-pity back now, though. They continued down the halls together, their emotions feeding off each other, changing from surprise at the other's feelings and back into self-reflection again.
---
Romana lost another fight about Narvin's place in the negotiations, but the nice thing about being in charge was that she was able to overrule him anyway. Narvin was still seated outside on the second-to-last day of talks, as Romana attempted to break the deadlock over prosecution of unlicensed time travel.
This was why Romana's first thought when the bomb exploded was that Narvin was going to be unbearably smug.
Instead, the only feeling she got from him while coughing in the resulting smoke was an overwhelming terror and anger and coldness, a stronger combination than any she had sensed since the first day of the bond. Romana pushed it aside and scrambled up from where her chair had toppled over during the blast, stumbling backward until she had a wall at her back. The bomb hadn't had much force, which meant a diversion, which meant-
An energy weapon discharged, the bolt striking where she had been sitting.
Narvin burst in through the doors.
Romana couldn’t call a warning and draw attention to her position. She shook her head instead which Narvin probably couldn't see through the haze. But he ducked down as a second bolt was fired at his head. Romana looked for the shooter, letting Narvin take care of himself. The smoke was clearing a little, and she saw an associate transportation official holding a weapon and aiming at Narvin again.
Romana felt Narvin's disapproval strongly enough as she launched herself at the assassin, but she did it anyway.
---
"So," said Romana, in the medical unit afterward, "I think that went well." She leaned back in her bed and glanced across at Narvin, who was sitting upright in his own bed.
"My job is to guard you," said Narvin. He was rubbing at a constellation of minor energy burns on his arm, projecting that combination of annoyance and worry again. "Heal fast, or when Leela sees you she'll start up about cutting out my heart again."
Romana fingered her own wounds, a patchwork of scrapes and bruises from where she had awkwardly fended off the assassin before Narvin had shoved him away from her. There wasn't anything serious, but Leela probably would be displeased.
"Neither of us are really cut out for this job, are we?" said Romana.
"Speak for yourself," snapped Narvin. "Protecting Gallifrey and her President is my job, thank you. I will admit that Braxiatel would be less a target than yourself, more able to negotiate, whatever his failings as a person."
"How dare you," said Romana, sitting up. "Braxiatel is a perfectly adequate person, as am I a diplomat. I think you forget with whom you're speaking, Coordinator Narvin."
Narvin winced. Romana suspected she was projecting anger again, but she hardly felt different from normal. She didn't bother to make the now-familiar effort to calm down.
"I never could forget who I was speaking to," said Narvin, finally. "My apologies. I overstepped in my annoyance."
"An apology? That's a first," said Romana. There was no contrition coming from Narvin, but perhaps she could overlook that in favor of the words.
"You're a little more persuasive when I can actually feel how much you want to gut me," said Narvin. He leant forward, a hand to his stomach. It was half mockery, but it was true that the projected emotions could be very…visceral.
"My own emotions pale in comparison to yours, Narvin," said Romana. "You're so negative all the time that I can only imagine what a positive emotion would be like."
"I'm negative," said Narvin. He was completely straight-faced, but Romana could tell he was embarrassed. Perhaps if she got a bit closer she could tease the emotion out of his expression.
"What's wrong?” she asked. "Oh- you didn't think I meant- what, sex?"
Narvin lost his composure and actually sputtered. "I did not think sex, and, let me tell you, no respectable Time Lord or Lady would immediately jump to that conclusion. No doubt the influence of Leela or the Doctor-"
"It wasn't my first thought either," Romana assured Narvin, which only made him annoyed. "But now that I have thought of it- well, it would be interesting."
"You wouldn't be the first woman to say that," said Narvin, faux-conspiratorial, and Romana laughed.
"Not now, perhaps," she said. "But something to consider."
"The way you talk about these things," said Narvin. The sense of wonder with which he said that was either very aggravating or a little flattering, or both.
"I'm practical."
Romana suddenly realized how close they'd become during the discussion, each on the edge of their respective beds. And, of course, because she'd noticed it, so did Narvin. They both glanced down, then away, and Romana could feel Narvin's uncertainty. But neither of them moved away.
It was ridiculous. She'd never consider this if it weren't for the bond that had been forced on them. Circumstances.
But life was made up of circumstances. Romana bit her lip and started to say something to Narvin when the door opened and the clinician walked in.
Relief and disappointment welled, and Romana couldn't disentangle which was whose.
---
The last day of negotiations was relatively easy. Nothing made a diplomatic corps more pliable than surviving an assassination attempt by one of their own. Romana gained more concessions than she had previously thought possible. The timeline might be safe from well-intentioned meddling for a little while longer.
Narvin, meanwhile, got concessions of his own, including a chair inside the chamber in order to watch the proceedings. Romana supposed he had earned the right. She still ignored his advice.
When she brought up the sex thing again in their rooms, it seemed only a fitting way to celebrate a good day.
"It's our last night on the planet," said Romana. "Opportunities will soon be lost..." She left off, hoping Narvin would fill in the blank. He just stared at her, however, narrowed eyes and a twist in his mouth, so Romana was forced to carry on. "Oh, come on, Narvin. Don't you want to know what it feels like? Having sex like this?"
"You want to experiment," said Narvin, slowly.
"Yes. Exactly," said Romana, imperiously. The complex of emotions coming from Narvin was far too complicated to understand, and Romana was glad of it. She didn't want to know exactly how much disgust or pity her proposal was being met with.
"Is that what you think of me?" said Narvin. "Something to be taken advantage of, a one-night stand?" The words would have sounded sarcastic if Romana hadn't been able to feel the actual emotion behind them.
"You don't have to make this complicated," she said, reasonably, but Narvin recoiled as if she'd slapped him.
"And you don't have to emote at me like that," said Narvin.
"I'm not doing anything," said Romana, and they had drawn very close together again. There was a wanting feeling that she thought wasn't hers but she wasn't quite sure.
“You don’t even know,” said Narvin. His voice was rough, a little choked.
“Narvin, stop making cryptic comments and give me a decipherable response,” said Romana, tilting her chin up. Narvin’s eyes fell from her face to her neck, and the wanting feeling increased. Which was some sort of answer, anyway.
Narvin leant forward and pressed his mouth to the line of Romana's jaw, following it back to where her pulse was beating at the join with her throat. Romana made a noise, and then began struggling between trying to tug off his robes and trying to push his head away.
"I thought you didn't want this," she said, finally succeeding in getting his robes open.
"You wanted a decipherable response," said Narvin, running his hands up her own robe, tickling her hips and her ribs. "You’re extremely hard to resist, especially when you're obviously falling over backwards to have me."
"I couldn’t care less about you," said Romana, which was perhaps not the right thing to say to a man you were trying to have sex with. But it put a gleam in Narvin's eye and a hard edge to his emotions, and it changed the feathery tender touches into a rough tearing of fabric that Romana liked altogether better.
They snapped and pushed at each other, the anger and the arousal coursing through each others’ brains. It was like and unlike contact - the basic visceral connection was there, but none of the finesses. It was all reactive, just like purely physical sex, but with the instant gratification of knowing exactly what felt good for the other party. There was no need for discussion or negotiation, and it was by mutual agreement that Narvin landed on his knees on the floor of Romana’s bedroom, his hands gripping tight to Romana's knees, rucking the skirt of her robe up as she tipped back on to her bed.
Romana tugged on Narvin's hair, pulling him closer between her thighs, and felt the pain blossom with a steady thrumming pleasure behind it.
"You like this, don't you?" she asked. "Shrewd, angry Narvin gets off on being ordered about."
"No," mumbled Narvin. "And allow me to point out that there is no way you could tell the difference between an arousal at hair-pulling and an arousal at getting to do this," and he began to use his mouth on her.
It felt good, no doubt about that, but Romana had the odd feeling that Narvin was stealing the pleasure away from her. The feeling of his tongue inside her and his fingers easing in alongside was evoking a reaction in her that reverberated into Narvin, and Romana only got a dim echo back. She tolerated it for a moment, while she tried to work out what to do. Then she tugged on Narvin's hair again, partly for the bright spark of pain/pleasure that came with the movement, but mostly to get his attention.
"Is there something else I can do?" asked Narvin, solicitous in his confusion.
"Stop being selfish and just get on the bed," said Romana. "Normally I'd appreciate you being on your knees for your President, but it's not going to work out like this."
Getting in the right position wasn’t as easy this time. Narvin required some pushing before he was on his side, head-to-toe with Romana.
“This would be easier if you would just tell me what you wanted,” he said.
“I want you to not waste time with talking,” said Romana. “Where were we?”
Narvin started to say something else, as if to actually answer what had clearly been a rhetorical question, and Romana shut him up by closing her mouth around the head of his cock.
This time things were altogether better. Romana's physical pleasure from Narvin's mouth was enhanced by the emotional pleasure from Narvin's physical pleasure from her mouth and on and on. The doubled arousal built instead of fading, and Romana found herself climaxing, which set off Narvin, which nearly set her off again. Then Narvin twisted his fingers, and it did set her off again. They lay like that, for a moment, sliding away from each other's bodies.
"Well," said Narvin. He didn't feel like anything. Romana suspected that the intensity of orgasm might have temporarily burnt out those receptors in her brain.
"How soon can you go again?" she said, and Narvin's expression more than made up for the lack of psychic insight.
---
The next morning, Romana felt drained and hung-over. The two of them went quietly to the laboratory as their ship was made ready for departure.
Romana caught Narvin's eyes as the bands were fitted around their heads, and felt one last final emotion that definitely wasn't hers, completely foreign and unidentifiable. Then the technician disconnected the bond with a snap that resounded in Romana's brain.
The trip back to Gallifrey was silent in every respect.
---
Romana spent the next few weeks trying to ignore Narvin's presence. This was difficult because she was still getting regular security briefings, but she found that if she didn't actually look at him, she could pretend that he wasn't actually there.
Braxiatel and Leela noticed the tension when they returned, of course. Leela asked if she was well, and Braxiatel asked if there had been a problem with the mission. Romana told them nothing. If she didn't talk about it, it wouldn't matter.
Except that it did.
"Lady President, I need you to look at me." Narvin waved a hand in front of Romana's face, leaning over her desk in order to do so. His voice was as wry and unfeeling as ever.
"I'm looking at you, Coordinator," said Romana, glancing at him. He looked as if he needed more rest, though Romana admitted she didn't have much ground for reproach in this matter. "And?"
"We can't go on like this," said Narvin. "We can agree forget about the... incident if you like, but we can't just ignore it."
"I fail to see the difference," said Romana.
"It's the agreeing part," said Narvin.
Now that Romana was actually looking at him, she could see that his eyes sometimes contained all the emotions that he kept out of his voice. It was remarkable how expressive eyes could be.
"You don't want to ignore it, do you?" She kept looking at Narvin, now that she had decided to do it.
"No." He stared right back, actually leaning even further over the desk.
"It wouldn't be the same," said Romana.
"Actual communication might have to be involved," said Narvin, dryly. "Which, we've established, you would like to avoid."
Romana started to suggest that they could be in contact, but she stopped herself. Of course neither of them particularly wanted the other in their head. That was the point. One of the points, anyway.
The silence stretched on, and Narvin nodded.
"I understand," he said, and turned to leave.
"I think it's worth a try," said Romana.
They only stared at each other for about five minutes more before lunging at each other over the desk.
Doctor Who, Gallifrey Audios
Rating: NC-17
(explicit sex, violence)
Characters: Romana/Narvin.
Wordcount: 4,000ish
Summary: Romana doesn't know where Narvin even gets any of these feelings from.
A/N: Written for janeturenne as a tide-over fic for the morepolitics Gallifrey ficathon. Prompt (or what I got out of it) was basically: combative Romana/Narvin with aliens-made-them-realize-they-wanted-to-do-it. Now with added cliche. Betaed by the amazing aralias . Thanks a ton! Problems remaining are definitely mine.
Narvin was uncharacteristically silent. He'd been snidely commenting on everything from the Nekkistani architecture to the exactitude of the bows of their hosts ever since stepping out of their ship and on to Nekkistani soil. Romana had had to tell him to be quiet more than once. Now that she needed him to protest, however, he was being disappointingly diplomatic. It fell to her to play the offended party.
"I must protest, your Excellency," she said, keeping her tone level and moderate. "You understand how inviolate the mind of a Time Lord is."
"We understand your need for privacy,” said the diplomat, carefully. "But it is for your safety that we ask that the pair of you be bonded for your time on Nekkistan."
"You know that there have been threats against you," said another official. Their names were interchangeable to Romana. "Your guard must be aware of your presence at all times, but we can’t have tracking technology in our governmental halls. The bonding procedure is merely a happy compromise."
"Narvin," hissed Romana, "explain to them why this is an awful idea."
"It's actually a very good one," said Narvin. "I'm no happier than you about the infringement, but I'd rather have to share my personal mindspace with you than explain to anyone how I let the President get assassinated."
Romana wanted to groan, but she contented herself with a tiny frown instead. She nodded her consent and allowed the diplomats to convey them to the laboratory.
If only Braxiatel could have gone to these negotiations instead of having to attend a separate set of talks. Narvin would have hardly cared as much about him being murdered.
---
The procedure itself was rather dull. Romana simply had to sit with a metal band around her forehead while a correspondence was established between herself and Narvin. It was when the bands came off that things became interesting.
"You should simply feel each other's alarm," said the technician. "It should tell you when assistance is needed."
"I'm feeling a little more than that," said Romana, doubtfully. A mess of emotions was nudging up against her consciousness, far more emotions than she had ever thought Narvin possessed. Curiosity, annoyance, disapproval of something, or everything. A sudden bright worry, probably about things having gone wrong. The technician fiddled with something in his pocket, and a wave of hyperawareness and paranoia rushed over Romana, leaving her confused and drained.
"Rassilon," muttered Narvin. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then under his eyes, then just scrubbed his entire face with both hands. His next words were muffled a bit by the heels of his hands. "Do you feel like this all the time?"
"Ah," said the technician. "Yes. We were a little worried about that. Time Lords have a higher base rate of psychic sensitivity than we Nekkistani. You will probably experience a heightened range of sensed emotions."
"Wonderful," said Romana. It was fortunate that she was such a subdued individual. Narvin's own roil of emotions was becoming worse, almost unbearable. She glared at him.
"I think I'm getting a headache," he said, faintly.
"Sorry," said the technician, wincing a little in sympathy. "You should adjust soon."
"Pull yourself together, Narvin," said Romana. "For my sake, at least."
"It would really help if you stopped being annoyed with me," said Narvin. "Just for a moment, as impossible as that effort might seem."
"I’m no more annoyed with you than usual," said Romana.
"Then I count myself lucky that you have never had the ability to kill me with your brain before," said Narvin.
Romana was about to make a rejoinder, but then he straightened up, still looking pale, and another bout of pain and unhappiness hit her. Further discussion would probably be counterproductive. Romana closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing instead.
The awareness of Narvin's emotions gradually dialed back to the point where Romana's stomach didn't churn when someone made a sudden movement, and Narvin didn’t flinch whenever anyone said something to her. Dealing with the Nekkistani diplomatic corps was more difficult than usual, now, but not impossible.
"A success, then," said the lead diplomat, making the eyebrow movement that equated a smile. "We can disengage the bond once our business has been conducted."
"Wonderful," said Romana.
"And, as a bonus, your psychic awareness of each other will allow us to conduct negotiations without the presence of the CIA Coordinator."
"Now hold on," said Narvin, annoyed and suspicious. “You can’t actually leave me out of negotiations about temporal security. You know who I am, you just said my title.”
"It will be easier to work without your influence, Narvin," said Romana. A neat bout of table-turning served him right for encouraging this bonding nonsense. “Others might have doubts about your neutrality. I can’t imagine why, but there you have it.”
The ensuing argument was curtailed not only by the observing Nekkistani, but also by the emotions that kept battering against Romana's consciousness. She could tell the same was happening to Narvin.
"I'm not going to stay in our rooms all day," said Narvin, rubbing at his forehead. "Half the reason I'm here is to advise you on policy."
"Which you can do between meetings," said Romana. "You can sit out in the hall during them." She ignored the frustration that that evoked.
---
Establishing a proper enforcement group for temporal incidents was tedious and difficult. It required a prodigious number of simultaneously spinning plates, which was why Romana was speaking with the Nekkistani rather than Braxiatel. Normally this minor sort of negotiation would be exactly the sort of thing he liked best, but instead he was already completely occupied with trying to get the Time Agency to tone themselves down a little and not interfere with the various forms of ongoing diplomacy. It would not be amusing at all if talks broke down because the Time Agency started turning up in people’s pasts (and probably pants as well) and convincing them to vote for giving control of temporal security over to them.
At least everyone could agree on something. No one wanted to let the upstart Human Time Agency run around and change things, even if it meant letting the vilified Gallifreyan CIA take care of things for a little longer. The only problem was convincing the other powers to stay out of the temporal security business, which was proving difficult. Romana had to strike the right balance between playing the experienced elder government and falling into the Gallifreyan stereotype of pompous idiocy.
Still, Romana felt justified in letting her attention wander as innumerable transportation chiefs weighed in on subsection b, or beta, or blue, or however their classification system worked. Narvin was in a slow simmer of annoyance and paranoia, as usual. He was probably so used to the emotions that he didn't even realize he was feeling them. Romana tapped her fingers on the table as she tried to determine what invisible emotions she herself might be experiencing at that very moment.
"Madam President?" asked one of the diplomats. "We're breaking for the evening. We could escort you to a dinner-"
"Thank you," said Romana, stirring herself out of the uncomfortable chair. "But I think I'd prefer to have a private meal."
"Wise," said another diplomat, a gruff older Nekkistani. "Security has been worried about the threats from the globalist fringe."
"Not that there could be any actual danger," said the first diplomat, hastily, and Romana gave them both a nod as she left the conference room.
"Done for the day?" asked Narvin, getting up from his chair in the hall and following her toward their rooms. "You realize that if you had been attacked, I wouldn't have been able to get into the conference room in time."
“Not you as well," said Romana, in exasperation. "The threats are nothing more than threats, but even if they were real I would hardly need to be protected while in the negotiations. Your paranoia is even more irritating when I can feel it haunting me physically rather than only metaphorically."
"I can tell," said Narvin. "But you have to realize that each and every person on this planet is a potential threat. Leela would say the same."
"Leela's every word is not some pearl of wisdom," said Romana. She thought she was being reasonable, but she saw Narvin wince, and his gait stumbled a little. "Oh, now you'll tell me that I have hidden feelings of resentment, or something."
"Far be it from me to tell the Lady President what to think," said Narvin. This time Romana did feel her own amusement and Narvin narrowed his eyes. "Except on matters of security."
"If you don't stop worrying at me," said Romana, "I am going to tell Leela you were harassing me after having usurped her place."
The tenor of Narvin's thoughts shifted immediately from the annoying flavor of concern to a rather more jarring sense of amused condescension.
"Hiding behind your savage, Lady President? I thought you had more weapons than to resort to that."
I’m not as sharp as you believe me to be, thought Romana, and winced when she realized that Narvin could probably read that.
"I'm only getting excessive amounts of self-pity," Narvin informed her. He was wearing his idiotic smirk and projecting a surprised smugness. "I wouldn't have thought someone with so large an ego and so much stubborn self-confidence even had a concept of self-pity."
"There you have it, then," said Romana. She struggled to push her feelings deeper aside, but she wasn't used to the effort. Normally her moods suppressed themselves without much effort on her part. "I, on the other hand, am not surprised at all by the wealth of odious emotions you seem to possess, Narvin."
"You bring them out in me," he said, whatever that was supposed to mean.
She was getting self-pity back now, though. They continued down the halls together, their emotions feeding off each other, changing from surprise at the other's feelings and back into self-reflection again.
---
Romana lost another fight about Narvin's place in the negotiations, but the nice thing about being in charge was that she was able to overrule him anyway. Narvin was still seated outside on the second-to-last day of talks, as Romana attempted to break the deadlock over prosecution of unlicensed time travel.
This was why Romana's first thought when the bomb exploded was that Narvin was going to be unbearably smug.
Instead, the only feeling she got from him while coughing in the resulting smoke was an overwhelming terror and anger and coldness, a stronger combination than any she had sensed since the first day of the bond. Romana pushed it aside and scrambled up from where her chair had toppled over during the blast, stumbling backward until she had a wall at her back. The bomb hadn't had much force, which meant a diversion, which meant-
An energy weapon discharged, the bolt striking where she had been sitting.
Narvin burst in through the doors.
Romana couldn’t call a warning and draw attention to her position. She shook her head instead which Narvin probably couldn't see through the haze. But he ducked down as a second bolt was fired at his head. Romana looked for the shooter, letting Narvin take care of himself. The smoke was clearing a little, and she saw an associate transportation official holding a weapon and aiming at Narvin again.
Romana felt Narvin's disapproval strongly enough as she launched herself at the assassin, but she did it anyway.
---
"So," said Romana, in the medical unit afterward, "I think that went well." She leaned back in her bed and glanced across at Narvin, who was sitting upright in his own bed.
"My job is to guard you," said Narvin. He was rubbing at a constellation of minor energy burns on his arm, projecting that combination of annoyance and worry again. "Heal fast, or when Leela sees you she'll start up about cutting out my heart again."
Romana fingered her own wounds, a patchwork of scrapes and bruises from where she had awkwardly fended off the assassin before Narvin had shoved him away from her. There wasn't anything serious, but Leela probably would be displeased.
"Neither of us are really cut out for this job, are we?" said Romana.
"Speak for yourself," snapped Narvin. "Protecting Gallifrey and her President is my job, thank you. I will admit that Braxiatel would be less a target than yourself, more able to negotiate, whatever his failings as a person."
"How dare you," said Romana, sitting up. "Braxiatel is a perfectly adequate person, as am I a diplomat. I think you forget with whom you're speaking, Coordinator Narvin."
Narvin winced. Romana suspected she was projecting anger again, but she hardly felt different from normal. She didn't bother to make the now-familiar effort to calm down.
"I never could forget who I was speaking to," said Narvin, finally. "My apologies. I overstepped in my annoyance."
"An apology? That's a first," said Romana. There was no contrition coming from Narvin, but perhaps she could overlook that in favor of the words.
"You're a little more persuasive when I can actually feel how much you want to gut me," said Narvin. He leant forward, a hand to his stomach. It was half mockery, but it was true that the projected emotions could be very…visceral.
"My own emotions pale in comparison to yours, Narvin," said Romana. "You're so negative all the time that I can only imagine what a positive emotion would be like."
"I'm negative," said Narvin. He was completely straight-faced, but Romana could tell he was embarrassed. Perhaps if she got a bit closer she could tease the emotion out of his expression.
"What's wrong?” she asked. "Oh- you didn't think I meant- what, sex?"
Narvin lost his composure and actually sputtered. "I did not think sex, and, let me tell you, no respectable Time Lord or Lady would immediately jump to that conclusion. No doubt the influence of Leela or the Doctor-"
"It wasn't my first thought either," Romana assured Narvin, which only made him annoyed. "But now that I have thought of it- well, it would be interesting."
"You wouldn't be the first woman to say that," said Narvin, faux-conspiratorial, and Romana laughed.
"Not now, perhaps," she said. "But something to consider."
"The way you talk about these things," said Narvin. The sense of wonder with which he said that was either very aggravating or a little flattering, or both.
"I'm practical."
Romana suddenly realized how close they'd become during the discussion, each on the edge of their respective beds. And, of course, because she'd noticed it, so did Narvin. They both glanced down, then away, and Romana could feel Narvin's uncertainty. But neither of them moved away.
It was ridiculous. She'd never consider this if it weren't for the bond that had been forced on them. Circumstances.
But life was made up of circumstances. Romana bit her lip and started to say something to Narvin when the door opened and the clinician walked in.
Relief and disappointment welled, and Romana couldn't disentangle which was whose.
---
The last day of negotiations was relatively easy. Nothing made a diplomatic corps more pliable than surviving an assassination attempt by one of their own. Romana gained more concessions than she had previously thought possible. The timeline might be safe from well-intentioned meddling for a little while longer.
Narvin, meanwhile, got concessions of his own, including a chair inside the chamber in order to watch the proceedings. Romana supposed he had earned the right. She still ignored his advice.
When she brought up the sex thing again in their rooms, it seemed only a fitting way to celebrate a good day.
"It's our last night on the planet," said Romana. "Opportunities will soon be lost..." She left off, hoping Narvin would fill in the blank. He just stared at her, however, narrowed eyes and a twist in his mouth, so Romana was forced to carry on. "Oh, come on, Narvin. Don't you want to know what it feels like? Having sex like this?"
"You want to experiment," said Narvin, slowly.
"Yes. Exactly," said Romana, imperiously. The complex of emotions coming from Narvin was far too complicated to understand, and Romana was glad of it. She didn't want to know exactly how much disgust or pity her proposal was being met with.
"Is that what you think of me?" said Narvin. "Something to be taken advantage of, a one-night stand?" The words would have sounded sarcastic if Romana hadn't been able to feel the actual emotion behind them.
"You don't have to make this complicated," she said, reasonably, but Narvin recoiled as if she'd slapped him.
"And you don't have to emote at me like that," said Narvin.
"I'm not doing anything," said Romana, and they had drawn very close together again. There was a wanting feeling that she thought wasn't hers but she wasn't quite sure.
“You don’t even know,” said Narvin. His voice was rough, a little choked.
“Narvin, stop making cryptic comments and give me a decipherable response,” said Romana, tilting her chin up. Narvin’s eyes fell from her face to her neck, and the wanting feeling increased. Which was some sort of answer, anyway.
Narvin leant forward and pressed his mouth to the line of Romana's jaw, following it back to where her pulse was beating at the join with her throat. Romana made a noise, and then began struggling between trying to tug off his robes and trying to push his head away.
"I thought you didn't want this," she said, finally succeeding in getting his robes open.
"You wanted a decipherable response," said Narvin, running his hands up her own robe, tickling her hips and her ribs. "You’re extremely hard to resist, especially when you're obviously falling over backwards to have me."
"I couldn’t care less about you," said Romana, which was perhaps not the right thing to say to a man you were trying to have sex with. But it put a gleam in Narvin's eye and a hard edge to his emotions, and it changed the feathery tender touches into a rough tearing of fabric that Romana liked altogether better.
They snapped and pushed at each other, the anger and the arousal coursing through each others’ brains. It was like and unlike contact - the basic visceral connection was there, but none of the finesses. It was all reactive, just like purely physical sex, but with the instant gratification of knowing exactly what felt good for the other party. There was no need for discussion or negotiation, and it was by mutual agreement that Narvin landed on his knees on the floor of Romana’s bedroom, his hands gripping tight to Romana's knees, rucking the skirt of her robe up as she tipped back on to her bed.
Romana tugged on Narvin's hair, pulling him closer between her thighs, and felt the pain blossom with a steady thrumming pleasure behind it.
"You like this, don't you?" she asked. "Shrewd, angry Narvin gets off on being ordered about."
"No," mumbled Narvin. "And allow me to point out that there is no way you could tell the difference between an arousal at hair-pulling and an arousal at getting to do this," and he began to use his mouth on her.
It felt good, no doubt about that, but Romana had the odd feeling that Narvin was stealing the pleasure away from her. The feeling of his tongue inside her and his fingers easing in alongside was evoking a reaction in her that reverberated into Narvin, and Romana only got a dim echo back. She tolerated it for a moment, while she tried to work out what to do. Then she tugged on Narvin's hair again, partly for the bright spark of pain/pleasure that came with the movement, but mostly to get his attention.
"Is there something else I can do?" asked Narvin, solicitous in his confusion.
"Stop being selfish and just get on the bed," said Romana. "Normally I'd appreciate you being on your knees for your President, but it's not going to work out like this."
Getting in the right position wasn’t as easy this time. Narvin required some pushing before he was on his side, head-to-toe with Romana.
“This would be easier if you would just tell me what you wanted,” he said.
“I want you to not waste time with talking,” said Romana. “Where were we?”
Narvin started to say something else, as if to actually answer what had clearly been a rhetorical question, and Romana shut him up by closing her mouth around the head of his cock.
This time things were altogether better. Romana's physical pleasure from Narvin's mouth was enhanced by the emotional pleasure from Narvin's physical pleasure from her mouth and on and on. The doubled arousal built instead of fading, and Romana found herself climaxing, which set off Narvin, which nearly set her off again. Then Narvin twisted his fingers, and it did set her off again. They lay like that, for a moment, sliding away from each other's bodies.
"Well," said Narvin. He didn't feel like anything. Romana suspected that the intensity of orgasm might have temporarily burnt out those receptors in her brain.
"How soon can you go again?" she said, and Narvin's expression more than made up for the lack of psychic insight.
---
The next morning, Romana felt drained and hung-over. The two of them went quietly to the laboratory as their ship was made ready for departure.
Romana caught Narvin's eyes as the bands were fitted around their heads, and felt one last final emotion that definitely wasn't hers, completely foreign and unidentifiable. Then the technician disconnected the bond with a snap that resounded in Romana's brain.
The trip back to Gallifrey was silent in every respect.
---
Romana spent the next few weeks trying to ignore Narvin's presence. This was difficult because she was still getting regular security briefings, but she found that if she didn't actually look at him, she could pretend that he wasn't actually there.
Braxiatel and Leela noticed the tension when they returned, of course. Leela asked if she was well, and Braxiatel asked if there had been a problem with the mission. Romana told them nothing. If she didn't talk about it, it wouldn't matter.
Except that it did.
"Lady President, I need you to look at me." Narvin waved a hand in front of Romana's face, leaning over her desk in order to do so. His voice was as wry and unfeeling as ever.
"I'm looking at you, Coordinator," said Romana, glancing at him. He looked as if he needed more rest, though Romana admitted she didn't have much ground for reproach in this matter. "And?"
"We can't go on like this," said Narvin. "We can agree forget about the... incident if you like, but we can't just ignore it."
"I fail to see the difference," said Romana.
"It's the agreeing part," said Narvin.
Now that Romana was actually looking at him, she could see that his eyes sometimes contained all the emotions that he kept out of his voice. It was remarkable how expressive eyes could be.
"You don't want to ignore it, do you?" She kept looking at Narvin, now that she had decided to do it.
"No." He stared right back, actually leaning even further over the desk.
"It wouldn't be the same," said Romana.
"Actual communication might have to be involved," said Narvin, dryly. "Which, we've established, you would like to avoid."
Romana started to suggest that they could be in contact, but she stopped herself. Of course neither of them particularly wanted the other in their head. That was the point. One of the points, anyway.
The silence stretched on, and Narvin nodded.
"I understand," he said, and turned to leave.
"I think it's worth a try," said Romana.
They only stared at each other for about five minutes more before lunging at each other over the desk.