Work Text:
Destined 3: Among the Leaves
by warinbabylon
He came to her in the cloisters. She had expected he would. She had avoided him for several days, not even venturing to the console room or the dining area when others were about. In fact in the last two days the only person that she had seen was Nyssa. And that was because she shared a room with the young Trakenite.
Nyssa had proven herself to be a friend in the making. But the young air hostess was wary of forming a deep friendship when she knew that she might be leaving the next moment. Still, she conversed with the girl often. When Nyssa had recovered from her faint in their room, she had demanded that Tegan tell her what was the matter. Although Tegan had stuck out her chin, had been defiant and distant in her manner, she had finally broken down and said that the Doctor had scared her.
Not that he had kissed her…
…silly.
Nyssa's response had been to let the Time Lord's anger dissipate and then to approach him.
But although the young girl was as smart as she was beautiful, she was naïve. Tegan was not. Well, she thought with a grimace as she leaned back into the cool leaves in an effort to hide, she had thought she was not naïve. And the Doctor appearing in the cloisters proved her right. There he was, standing in the center of the large room. His hands were in their customary place, deep in his pockets, and his head was inclined, but she knew that he sought her.
It was no different then any other situation involving a man that she had experienced. Well, not really, she thought ruefully. But he was male and that had to account for something, she thought. She didn't know what a Gallifreyan was, but when Nyssa told her there was a library about, she had tried to find out what she wanted to know. But until she did find the information, she had to just understand that he was male, and apparently in his prime.
Rabbits, she sighed as the Doctor's white sneakered feet approached her, I could be happy on a plane right now. I could be happily handing out drinks to half-drunk passengers and making dates with the pilots and times with her friends. She could be seeing the world and all the beauty if had to offer. Not stuck in this hole in space called the TARDIS with a boy, a very nice, almost friendly girl and a man that both scared her and awed her. And whereas opening the doors of the TARDIS on strange and interesting planets and in crazy times appealed to her and her sense of adventure, the fact that it was not her choice to begin with did color the whole experience in a sour bunch of colors.
His shoes squeaked as he drew to a stop just outside of the gazebo that she had chosen to rest in. He turned and faced the avenue made by the perfect lines of cloisters on either side of the walkway. The canopy of leaves was high overhead. She watched as he drew in a deep breath and wondered if he did it for courage or because there was the aura of perpetual spring in the air.
Tegan sighed.
"You have been quiet these last few days," the Doctor commented, still looking away from her. "It makes the TARDIS rather a different place."
"I'm not always a mouth on legs, you know," she said equally quietly, but with some bite. "I can be a quiet person."
"It was not an insult, Tegan. The TARDIS truly does feel like a different place."
His voice was mild, but Tegan could tell he was struggling to keep his temper down. "Fair enough," she answered, not knowing what else to say.
The Doctor turned at last to face her, his blue eyes hooded and his expression controlled and masked. "I need to talk to you about a few things. Would it be acceptable if I join you?"
She hesitated and he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "I promise to be a perfect gentleman, Tegan."
"Fine."
He climbed the stairs, almost sideways and approached. When he reached the seat across from her, he folded his tall form into the seat. With a frown, he immediately leaned forward, his arms braced on his spread knees. "You have been avoiding me."
"Your genius I.Q. lead you to that conclusion?" she asked, in self-defense.
"Look, Tegan. I want a truce here to talk to you…to explain."
"To explain what? That you kidnap women and bring them on board a space ship that blows their mind and then take advantage of them? Oh…but only after you change your body to do so?" she asked, feeling somewhat bold. She immediately bit her lip as his head came up and his eyes narrowed. Now you've done it, Tegan, old girl, she groused to herself. Placate the lions, not incite the natives…steady on.
"Partially," he grumbled.
"How…"
He shook his head and waved his hand in the air. "Quiet, Tegan and listen for once. This is not easy to explain in a manner that you will appreciate and understand, but I am going to tell you as best I can."
She opened her mouth, but stopped when she saw a level of pain lurking in his eyes. She frowned, a twisted affair, and leaned further back into the stone and leaves. She nodded and settled her hands on her lap. Maybe he could explain himself after all. "I don't know why I am wanting to hear this, but okay."
He nodded, satisfied and lowered his head. As he began to talk, his hands and legs appeared to be unable to be stilled. He seemed to move all over.
"I'm a Time Lord, a Gallifreyan. I know you don't know what that is. I would be surprised if you did. Needless to say, I'm alien to you, in more ways than culture and physiology. I'm sure I can find you a couple of books in the library to help explain the differences…"
"Nyssa said there was a library."
"Yes, Nyssa would have already have found the library," he smiled but then sobered as he looked at her. "I'm in my fifth incarnation, Tegan. Time Lords can regenerate 12 times, netting 13 lives, you see."
The Doctor jumped up and paced out of the gazebo and then paced back in, ducking under the leaves. He faced her and then continued. "And Gallifreyan's are a sterile race. We reproduce by weaving."
"Weaving?"
"Genetic looms, very similar to your clothes looms. Strands of DNA, nonsense genes are woven together with great care. Its intricate and a highly advanced topic, Tegan. But as it stands…"
"You can't have children."
"Exactly. No Gallifreyan can."
"Same thing with my uncle," she said quietly. "Go on."
"But although we are a sterile race, Tegan, we still are forced to deal with residual drives, residual needs that are the basis of life. Looming is exterior to our existence. It is not budding, or cloning or anything more than a terribly intricate scientific process. It is quite the interesting thing. Rassilon at once deemed looming the savior of the Gallifreyan race as well as a detriment to our very strong essence of self. I have no choice in the matter of children; they are preordained from my house loom. My cousins and I are from the same cut of cloth, so to speak. Who we are, what we are, is preordained from the very beginning of a needle to the cloth, there is no mixing of genes, no guesses as to who has who's eyes or hair.
Therefore, in order to help us keep a sense of self about interactions, Rassilon had it inserted into our biodata that drives would emerge in two regenerations: the fifth and the ninth. At that point, we have the choice of a person with whom to interact. Although there is no hope of children, we are still granted the ability to act as though it were."
"But if there is no chance of children," Tegan sat forward, her mind intrigued by what he was saying. "It stands that interaction of that type is illogical."
"Ah, but most humanoid lifeforms in the universe reproduce by sexual means, Tegan, it is a basic tenet of life. And in most societies, it is the basis of art. I will grant you the point that it is illogical; the highest ranks of my society, for countless years, have argued that it should be taken from us. But as it hasn't, and as inefficient and illogical as it might seem, it still exists."
"So you are saying that you now have a sex drive?"
"Yes, rather."
"Well that isn't anything strange, Doctor, all men have that in their prime."
"It is for a Time Lord," he almost yelled, restraining at the last moment. He paced away and stopped a few feet outside the gazebo and faced away from her again. She leaned forward to hear the words. "It is not something that I am accustomed to, but it is my fifth
incarnation."
"So this is one of your times."
The Doctor spun around and faced her. "Ah yes."
Tegan contemplated him as he stood, his blond hair brushed by the gently blowing leaves above his head. She shook her head slowly. "You don't like it."
"Of course I don't, Tegan. It's bothersome and trying."
She nodded. "I thought as much from the likes of you."
"I'm not through."
"I suppose you are going to tell me why you said you wished it could be anybody but me."
"And you suppose correctly, Tegan. Time Lords do not choose the target of their drives in those two incarnations. Usually regenerations occur in a controlled setting and the male has had time to get to know their target ahead of time. Sometimes not, but it is always a fellow Gallifreyan. In times of crisis, such as what we went through a few weeks ago, an alien has been known to be the target. It's a long drawn out series of hormonal pathways and biochemical mechanisms, but to put it simply: when a Time Lord or Gallifreyan finishes into those vulnerable incarnations they imprint on a female. It is similar to your ducks on Earth. And if that target of imprint is an alien…then it is an alien…"
"An alien?"
"You."
"I see."
"Do you?"
"Not really, but I suppose it is the best explanation that I will get." Tegan sat forward, ending the rapid fire exchange between the two of them. She watched as he tiredly climbed the steps and sat down across from her again. With a weary look on his face, he lifted a hand and rubbed at the back of his neck. His eyes were infinitely troubled when he raised his head to glance at her. "And you wish it could be another one of your species."
This conversation, she thought, frowning, was so strange. Her discussions with men about sex had not been a very long or drawn out and certainly did not involve any imprinting or weaving or hormonal pathways or biochemical mechanisms. Usually the conversations would revolve around astrological signs, or whose roommates were away from whose flats.
His nod was quick, almost clipped. "It would…ah…make the situation easier to handle."
"And control."
"Admittedly, yes."
"Wonderful. Great. A micro-manager Time Lord."
He gave her a quick smile that was gone before it fully materialized on his lips. "Others have called me that."
Tegan had had enough. She sat forward so quickly that the Doctor reacted by steeling his spine with narrowed eyes. "Are you sure that I am the target?"
"Positive. Our…kiss…is proof."
She held up a hand, not wanting a dissertation on kissing from him. "Are you sure it is not another? Possibly Nyssa?"
He rolled his eyes heavenward and took a deep breath. "No. Although Nyssa's planet has similar ebbs and flows of hormones and similar understandings of mating. On Traken, triggers and targets don't exist, but they do influence and, in some instances, induce sexuality and attraction between two mates. And her intelligence and lack of emotionality would allow for ease-"
"Emotionality," she scoffed.
"Humans are creatures of emotion, Tegan. I am not. Nyssa is not. Adric is not, to a rather narrow extent. Whereas those of my race would see what is occurring as a stage of life to be endured; humans see sex as an extension of affection and attraction."
"Too right we do," she said, standing quickly. "So…let me get this perfectly straight, Doctor. I am a target of a hormone overdose from you because you are a going through Time Lord puberty. And quite frankly, you wish it wasn't me. Do I have that right?"
The Doctor opened his mouth, but opted to just nod to avoid argument.
Tegan stared at him, throwing back her head and glancing down her nose. "And I'll say one thing to you, Doctor whoever you are, Time Lord or not…I want to go home. Take me back to Heathrow."
"I will," he agreed.
"That is all I need to know," she said. "Don't come near me, Doctor."
"I would never force you to do anything, Tegan. Its not in my nature."
"Manipulation is…I've seen it. Stay away from me."
He leaned forward on his knees and lowered his head. Then with a sigh that shook his chest and lifted his shoulders, he agreed. They stared at each of a couple of moments before Tegan turned, straightened her uniform and strode down the path. She didn't look back as she left through the door.
Damn that man, she growled under her breath. With a grunt, she went in search of Nyssa to find this library. As much as she hated book work, she supposed she needed to know what she was up against in the next however long it took the degenerate traveler to get her home.
Oh for a plane and a vodka screwdriver, she thought with a frown.
end