Hand in the Dark [RP for aces_are_rare]

[timewill_tell]

It was nearing dusk as the Doctor and and Ace walked away from the small village, home to the Trelek people. It was a small planet, harboring only that small village, and a diverse variety of flora and fauna, but as planets went, it was one of the more unremarkable ones the Doctor had encountered. In fact, he was certain he'd never even been there

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[aces_are_rare]

Water. Of all the naff things to fight about that had to be on the top of the list, especially when the solution was so simple. Funny, how ending a war had evolved into lessons on well digging and irrigation. Still, they had ended the war, and before anyone had been killed too. The Trelekans threw a hell of a party, which had been fun after that annoying bit with the speech and the crown of leaves

[aces_are_rare]

"I was... I was thinking the same thing," Ace admitted as she held the damp cloth to his forehead. Even as she worried she couldn't help feeling a small shiver of excitement. It hadn't been a one off, that kiss, that night. Even as she had been trying to find the words to ask him for a romantic - even in her own thoughts she stumbled over the word - night, a date (oh, that was even harder to say) he had been wanting it too.

"When you feel better," because he would feel better, he would. "We'll have an evening, just the two of us. Maybe a picnic in the gallery, surrounded by all those picture's you've collected; something there must suit this Neruda bloke's poems, yeah? We'll have tea, and those scones you like, and we'll

[timewill_tell]

It touched him deeply, her recitation of poetry. He closed his eyes while she read, faint, pleasant images filling his mind. For some reason, the image of them dancing together flew through him, and he chided himself for such a fanciful thought; Ace wouldn't...dance with him, would she? Beautiful music was playing...a soft, slow jazz song, and her head was tucked against his shoulder...

His eyes opened quickly when the poem was through, and he smiled up at her.

"That was lovely. Your voice is a warm blanket on my hearts," he noted. He was capable of being quite romantic, and there was simply no other way to describe the effect her voice had on him, especially now. "I'm sorry I've taken ill, Ace, that you should...have to see me this way...take care of me. I'm feeling very tired...just now...why don't you go to your room and rest? I'll be fine...for a few hours..."

He stroked her hand as he said the words.

[aces_are_rare]

"Don't be stupid, Professor." Ace closed the book, returning it to the table. Not the happiest of poems, but it suited him and he seemed to rest a little easier when she read. "Were you sorry you had to take care of me on the beach last week, or that week after Colony 34? Did you resent having to spend time with me after I was shot? It didn't seem like it, so why would you expect any different from me? It's what we do

[timewill_tell]

She made quite a few very good points, as she often did. Whenever she'd been hurt, or otherwise disabled in some way, he was more than happy to look after her. Ace was so often independent that by allowing to look after her, it made him feel good, that she would trust him to let him see her vulnerable

[aces_are_rare]

The chair next to the bed was large and overstuffed with a high back and a pair of matching pillows. When Ace was sure he was asleep she moved carefully off the bed and onto the chair, not wanting to risk interrupting his sleep at all. He needed to sleep, to turn off his mind and give his body the chance to fight off the toxin

[timewill_tell]

He was dreaming again, but it was unpleasant; his mind was pulling at the edges of all his worst memories and fears, bringing them to the forefront so they could be lived, made to seem real. It started easily enough, the dream; they were dancing again.

Standing on a cobblestone balcony, overlooking an ocean, their arms were threaded loosely around each other's waist, their hands linked. Ace's hair seemed soft as her head rested on his shoulder, just near his cheek. He nuzzled there, inhaling her scent, enjoying the feel of her in his arms

[aces_are_rare]

Ace's sleep, light and troubled, ended abruptly with the flashing lights, moaning, and the certainty that something was wrong. She almost fell out of the chair in an effort to stand up and get the the bed. "Professor

[timewill_tell]

He was closer to wakefulness now, but hardly lucid; the fever was corrupting his thoughts, distorting reality. When the Doctor's eyes opened, slowly, he noticed that the lights were slightly brighter than they had been. And there was another change...someone was holding him. Who...Ace. Ace. The dreams. Were they dreams? He couldn't remember. Everything felt real, nothing felt real. He wanted to turn, to see her, but couldn't summon the strength. Was she even there? Of course she was, those were her arms

[aces_are_rare]

Ace listened to the strange collection of words, trying to figure out if they meant anything or if they were just random fragments pulled from his fevered mind. A dream, she decided, though the last muttering about a berry didn't quite fit in with the rest. Dancing, and jazz music, and... "You're picturing me in a dress?"

She needed to see if he he was awake, and how lucid. Did the berries mean anything? Was he asking for berries or berry flavoured tea or did it mean nothing at all? Rather than try to move him she scouted around him to the other side. His eyes were open, but still clouded.

"Is there something you need? Something I can get for you?" She rested the palm of her hand against his warm cheek.

[timewill_tell]

Ace was in front of him now, his mind registered. She seemed to fill his thoughts, and here she was. Had he summoned her, somehow, simply by thinking so fervently of her? No, that wasn't right, was it? She had been here all along, she'd been holding him. He frowned a bit. Why couldn't he remember anything? What was she asking him? Why would he need anything

[aces_are_rare]

"No one's hurt me, they haven't even tried." Not recently, at least, but she didn't add that part.

"I'm safe and whole, and we're both in the TARDIS where nothing can get to us." Nothing but the toxin ravaging through his system.

"I'm not leaving you, not ever." She placed her other hand on his cheek, framing his face, and leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. "I'm staying here until you're better. We've a date planned, remember? Poetry and music. And Muffins, apparently. Let me be your memory for now, Professor. You just rest."

[timewill_tell]

Though her words became muddled to him quickly, filtered through the chaos of his fevered mind, they soothed him, reassuring him. She hadn't been hurt, she hadn't left, wouldn't leave. And they had a date. A date? He smiled tiredly, remembering a small part of that discussion from much earlier.

He needed to rest, and she would be there. The Doctor leaned slightly forward, pressing his forehead to hers and trying to breathe evenly. He was starting to have trouble breathing...that hadn't happened before. His breaths were raspier, uneven, but he tried to regulate his breathing. He couldn't even ponder this new development longer, his eyelids slid closed of their own volition. Ace's cool breath felt wonderful on his skin, and he was already dreaming of her again.

[aces_are_rare]

He was wrapped around her, his arm on her waist, his forehead touching hers, even one toes of one foot covering her ankle. He was the one who was sick but it felt as if he was trying to protect her. Or maybe he thought she would leave of her own volition, forgetting, or not believing, that she wanted to stay with him forever. Her forever, which wasn't long enough but it was all she had to give him.

"I'm staying right here," she whispered against his skin. Maybe if she said it often enough it would seep into his subconscious. "I'm not going anywhere."

Ace frowned when she noticed that the Professor's breathing was off. He never breathed heavily, not even when they were running, thanks to his 'superior' respiratory system (she always rolled her eyes when he used the words superior and himself in the same sentence). He was breathing had now, ragged, and she didn't like it. She moved one hand down to his chest, feeling the rattling there. Another symptom, another thing out of her control. "Breath, Professor. Just breath."

[timewill_tell]

He was too deeply asleep to hear her now, but almost unconsciously tried to respond to her voice, his lungs struggling to compensate for the disruption in his normal breathing mechanism. Unbeknownst to Ace, the TARDIS was working fervently to find another way to treat the toxin; in her databanks, all known treatments seemed to indicate that only the symptoms could be treated, until the toxin itself ran through one's system. However, the TARDIS was also fairly certain a Time Lord had never been infected with this before, and his own symptoms seemed to be more severe than all other known cases, his condition deteriorating more rapidly. Which meant...the treatment, likely, had to account for this difference. The TARDIS bemoaned the fact that she was unable to physically comfort anyone, but she did her best to convey her support for Ace by humming a bit more loudly, trying to indicate to the young woman that she was worried, too

[aces_are_rare]

In bare minutes his breathing had worsened, from dry rasping to wet and noisy. He was fighting for each breath and Ace couldn't just lay there and do nothing. Frantically she tried to think of something she could do, any way to help. With one hand she worked all the pillows on the bed into a pile; sitting up, she hoped, might ease his breathing