RP for renegadeinexile

[thecricketer]

The Doctor had his head beneath the console, a tool kit at his side, and his hands plunged in very delicate wiring.

He didn't need to make this repair, not strictly; the TARDIS ran well enough without it. But it would make reactions just a bit smoother, just a bit swifter - and besides, he felt he owed her some tender caring to anyway.

It certainly wasn't because he needed something to distract him while he waited.

He wasn't impatient, he decided as he pulled a thin silver rod from the ancient box; he'd given her as much time as she needed and he'd meant it. He just...well, he never was good at standing still, really, especially when there were nagging thoughts to run from.

So he worked, and was content, and sometimes he smiled. He already knew what their first real trip should be - he'd promised already, after all.

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[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She blinked at him over the rim of her cup, then set it down, smirking faintly.

"You may find this difficult to believe. In fact, I'm glad you're seated. The shock alone..."

She fixed him with a mock-serious gaze as the debate at the neighbouring table about how that Raja had clearly had it coming.

"There is nothing I wish to argue at the moment."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

His hand rose to cover his lips, eyes widening as he gasped behind his fingers. He stared at her, aghast, as they wrapped again round his drink.

"You're certain you're Ushas? You're not possessed, or anything?" He managed to look perfectly concerned, even distressed.

The sharp glance at the other table was quick enough as to never have happened.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

Her eyes narrowed at him, but good-naturedly. "I'm quite sure, yes," she replied, raising her cup to her lips again.

The animated discussion at the next table broke into full-on shouting. "Natural causes, nothing!" one of the men declared. "There's nothing natural about heart failure at that young an age. Someone killed him. We all know the man had scores of enemies. I wouldn't have put it past the Rani, even. She sure was close enough to him to do it."

The woman in question blanched ever so slightly, setting her cup back on the table in front of herself. "Quite sure," she said. "Nothing's wrong at all."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

He was grinning by then, but it faded as the outburst penetrated his thoughts like a blunt knife. The murmuring - of dissent, of agreement - began to build and he would have looked, if he wasn't concentrating on his companion.

He might have missed it, her reaction, but he'd been expecting one. His brow was furrowed, slightly - curiosity, concern, perfectly masking a certain kind of anger.

"You're certain?" he said quietly.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She tilted her chin up at once, meeting his gaze squarely, her initial insticts bringing a sharp retort to her lips. She meant to protest, to laugh off the argument dismissively, to chide him for putting stock in baseless rumour, for trusting a stranger's utterances over her own presence.

She meant, in short, to lie, cheat, and manipulate her way out of it.

But she bit back the words, and took a deep breath.

He had gone so far out of his way to be fair, to be kind, not to give up on her.

It was only fair that she allow him the opportunity to walk away. It was only fair that she confirm what had been spoken, what they both knew--oh, he knew, she saw it lurking behind his eyes even as he tried to hide it--to be the truth.

She replied, in just as quiet a voice as she rose to her feet, "Perhaps we'd better go somewhere a little more quiet, and discuss that."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

He expected denial. He wanted denial, or righteous indignation, or sharp words on spiteful conjecture, on baseless assumptions, and he wanted it to be sincere.

Except that didn't happen, and though his eyes widened and his frown deepened he nodded, and rose with her.

"Shall we take our drinks?" His tone was deliberately casual, as was his pose, and then his expression; neither of them needed probing stares or thoughtful muttering.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

"I can't--" she said, shaking her head, making a face that conveyed her stomach was tied in knots. "If you want yours, that's fine, I just... can't."

It seemed rather a moot point; she wasn't expecting the upcoming discussion to last very long.

"This way," she murmured, canting her head at the opposite side of the plaza from where they'd entered.

This time, she didn't reach for his hand as she led him away.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

Another slight nod, and he didn't give the glass so much as a glance as he followed her.

He wanted to say something as they walked, something soft and warm and reassuring, but nothing came - nothing that would help.

No, he would just wait, and listen.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She didn't say a word as she guided him through the plaza, and out the other side. She was silent as they left the crowd behind, the din of voices slowly fading in their wake.

It wasn't until they'd stepped just inside a quiet alley, out of the way, that she spoke.

"That rather loud man at the other table... everything he said was true."

She met his gaze, her eyes troubled and wary.

"The Raja--my husband--did die at a very young age. He was assassinated."

A few beats, and then:

"And I did it."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

His hands found each other behind his back when they finally stopped, clenched tight enough to hurt - the emotion he that didn't allow to seep into anything else.

When she spoke, his expression did not change; his mouth was a thin line, and his eyes were hollow. When he did, his voice was quiet, and very little else.

"Tell me why."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

"I was very young," she replied, the matter-of-fact tone of her voice conveying that she meant to relate facts, not offer excuses or explanations.

"I did it partly out of wanting an escape. The marriage was miserable. I wasn't a wife; I was an enemy brought under control through manipulation.

I did it partly out of fear. I knew he was tired of me. I feared he'd do the same to me if I didn't act first, to escape our bond, to seek a replacement.

But mostly... I did it out of anger."

She sighed, and forced herself to stand up straighter, head held high. "He humiliated me. Repeatedly. Publicly. He belittled my interests, my talents, my work. He made no secret of having other women. He wore the fact that he had tamed a mighty Time Lord as a vulgar display of power."

Her gaze was unwavering.

"His was the first life I took. It would not be the last. I fear it set me down a very wrong path. That was near to seven centuries ago, and a lot has happened and changed in that time. But I cannot expect you to merely accept my word for it."

She tossed her head slightly, and tucked her hair behind one ear. "I can only humbly request your indulgence in taking me back to where we met, so I might retrieve my TARDIS. But should you be unwilling to do so, well..."

She smiled a small, sharply sad smile. "... at least I'm home again."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

His gaze never wavered as she spoke. A number of emotions warred within it, and he made no attempt to disguise them; they ranged from understanding to revulsion, never holding one for long, straying back and forth.

The rest of him was utterly still, and remained so for a long moment after she finished, as he studied her.

Then, quite suddenly, he relaxed, because the woman he was looking at was still the one he knew, and he cared too much, and nothing was futile this time.

He remembered one of the first rules he'd ever made, and why he made it.

So he stepped forward, and took her hand.

"I should have told you," he said softly, "that when someone steps aboard my TARDIS, it's the present, not the past, that matters."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

Her gaze had fallen at the sight of revulsion in his eyes; she turned her face slightly to look past him, focusing on the opposite wall as she waited to hear if she'd regain her ship or be left here on the planet where she'd committed her first grave transgression.

Fitting, that.

So she wasn't paying attention, and she nearly jumped when his hand found hers. She stared down at it, then her gaze snapped up to meet his, her eyes wide with bewilderment. His voice was soft, gentle, and it took several moments for the words to sink in.

"I don't... but... Doctor... I don't understand..."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

They never did. He couldn't help the faint, distant smile as he took her other hand as well, squeezing gently. He'd expected this to be awkward, but now...now it was almost simple. Almost easy.

"Do you expect to commit homicide any time soon?" He raised his eyebrows, and before she could answer, went on.

"It doesn't matter to me who you were, Ushas, it matters who you are."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She stared at him, completely at a loss. She expected a fight. She expected to be turned away, shunned, left behind.

The last thing she expected was this. Compassion. Acceptance.

She felt a bit overwhelmed, and she fought to hide it, glancing away. For once, she failed rather miserably at it, biting her lip, drawing in a breath, and clutching his hands.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

The Doctor glanced down automatically - it was always easier to look away, to keep a distance - but a moment later he put a stop to it, because it wasn't the time for that anymore.

"Ushas," he said softly.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She breathed in a bit sharply at the sound of her name, her gaze rising slowly, almost warily, until her eyes met his again.

"...yes?"

She had to fight to keep her chin up, to keep from turning away. There was something nearly uncomfortable in this, in not immediately stepping back and throwing up a wall as she always had.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

He swallowed, and it was an effort to keep going, to keep his eyes on hers, knowing his revealed so much, too much.

"I don't abandon my friends," he said quietly. Then, softer still, "It's enough to regret. To stop."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

"I do," she breathed, forcing herself to stand still, just as afraid now to look away as she was to hold his gaze. "I don't know why it is you find me so worthy of your understanding, I..."

She faltered for just a moment, swallowing past a lump in her throat. "I'm grateful for it."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"There's no need. As I said, you're my friend, and..."

He lowered his head, slightly, though he still met her eyes, and in his own, for the first time since he closed the distance between them, there was hesitance. Uncertainty.

"We've all done things we aren't proud of," he said softly.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

Her chin raised, and she drew in a breath, words immediately coming to her lips. She wanted to know what he'd done, and why.

But a moment's reflection stilled those urges, and instead she squeezed both his hands, shaking her head slightly, her eyes concerned as they noted the uncertainty in his.

"And we can all forgive, yes?"

Her thumbs drew small circles on the backs of his hands.

"If you can remain my friend despite the things I've done... I can do the same for you, Doctor."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

The Doctor swallowed, a soft, grateful smile turned the corners of his lips - but it faded a moment after, and he shook his head.

"You've told me of one murder you've committed, when you didn't need to." His voice was barely audible.

"It's only fair that I do the same."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She studied his face for a few silent moments, her brow creasing. Then she sighed, and nodded, giving his hands another squeeze.

"If you find it necessary, Doctor... then yes. By all means."

One side of her mouth twitched briefly, as if trying for a resigned smile. "I promise you," she went on, her voice as quiet as his had been, "that I'll listen. And not judge."

Her thumbs resumed their circular paths on the backs of his hands, their pads rubbing lightly over skin and bone as she met his gaze receptively.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

A slight nod, and then his brow furrowed. It was clear that he was considering - he didn't like that he needed to. He didn't like that there were deaths to choose from.

He knew, of course, what he would choose. He knew the hardest, the coldest, the clearest case.

His voice was even, almost matter of fact. His hands tightened in hers.

"I burned Koschei to death."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened in surprise.

Of all the things he could have said, she had to admit, that was about the last thing she would have expected to hear. The third part of their little knot at the Academy, dying such a violent death... at the Doctor's hands?

Clearly there had to be a reason.

"Tell me what happened," she implored softly, holding his hands firmly in hers, refusing to look away.