Everything had been fine, just fine, reflected Morrigan as she glanced around her plainly furnished room. That is, until a little while ago. It was not until the doctor had knocked at her door, bade her a good night, then disappeared into his own room that she realized how unnerving the TARDIS could be.
Officially, it was her second night in the TARDIS, not her first. However, she'd been so exhausted last night that the 1812 Overture at full volume wouldn't have inspired her to lift an eyelid. Tonight was a different matter altogether. Tonight, she was startlingly awake, and aware of all the strange noises emanating from outside (and possibly even inside, for all she knew) her room. To make matters worse, it was dark.
She understood that the TARDIS, in order to help its passengers in their diurnal schedules, had both day and night, depending on the lighting (or lack thereof). But that didn't make Morrigan feel any better about the situation (not that she was afraid of the dark, she told herself; she just happened to forget to turn the lights off every night). She tried to calm herself as she gripped the covers of her spartan single bed. "It's all in my imagination," she whispered to herself desperately. She squinted hopelessly into the darkness, trying to make out the simple dresser and unornamented desk that occupied the other parts of the room. Suddenly, what sounded like a scream rang out from down the corridor, followed by more screams fading into the distance. If that's my imagination, it has one hell of a sound system, she decided as she leapt out of bed.
Creeping slowly and silently to her bedroom door, she opened it a crack and cautiously stared up and down the corridor. She couldn't see anything out of place, but that didn't mean that there wasn't ... she darted diagonally across the hallway, quickly finding herself in front of the Doctor's door. Pushing back her loose shoulder-length copper-red curls, she shoved all other thoughts from her mind and timidly knocked.
At first there was no reply. "He's probably wandering around and making all that noise," she mumbled in a small voice that managed to sound hopeful and annoyed at the same time. She steeled herself, adjusted her plaid flannel shorts, and tugged on the front of her T-shirt. Then she knocked again, this time slightly harder. She heard a voice come from within, and though it was very muffled, she recognized it as the Doctor's.
Slowly opening the bedroom door, she stopped in amazement at the room's grandeur. The hardwood floor of the console room was echoed here, and the finely crafted dresser, wardrobe, and tables all gleamed in rich wood tones (in a more cynical corner of her mind she noted that it reminded her of Tyrell's master bedroom in Bladerunner). but it was the bed that dominated the room. It was magnificent, a huge four-poster Prato with luxurious deep blue velvet drapes surrounding the interior. "Doctor?", she called softly, suddenly feeling very foolish.
Morrigan barely heard him answer and she could not make out what he said. She had almost convinced herself that the noises were all in her mind when she heard a series of bumps and thumps, followed by more of that eerie screaming. Any remaining courage swiftly deserted her, and she dove through the bed curtains, landing on the bed and nearly on top of the Doctor.
Her presence did not go unnoticed by him. The Doctor, who had been comfortably curled up and sound asleep a moment ago, was now sitting bolt-upright, his sky-blue eyes wide with shock. "Wha?" he managed, the tried again. "Morrigan? What's wrong? What's going on?"
"There's something out there, down the corridors, somewhere in the TARDIS. I keep hearing strange noises, thumping and screaming." She moved further from the door, almost up onto the pillows.
"And you'd like me to see what it is?" the Doctor replied somewhat sarcastically.
Morrigan suddenly felt very guilty. "Only if it's not too much bother ..."
She seriously considered returning to her room and forgetting about the whole thing, but the thought of crossing the dark corridor again made her shiver.
The Doctor noticed her unease, and his attitude immediately softened. He replied, "Of course it's no bother, especially of it will make you feel better." He smoothed the wrinkles from his white linen nightshirt, and searched in vain for his nightcap. Pushing his hand back through his tousled brown hair, he considered her. "Tell you what ... I'll go check and you can climb under the covers and keep warm until I get back. Does that sound all right?"
Morrigan nodded, then climbed under the covers as the Doctor exited the bed. He seemed slightly uncomfortable, and she asked what was wrong. "The floor's cold," he admitted sheepishly. "Still, once I get moving ..."
"Doctor?"
He stopped heading for the door and turned to face her. "Yes, Morrigan?"
"Thank you."
"You're welcome," he assured her and started for the door again. Once more she called his name, and once more he turned to face her.
"It's awfully dark out there ... Please be careful," she cautioned worriedly.
He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it abruptly. He paused for a moment, then said, "I will. I promise." Giving her a gentle lopsided smile, he stepped out into the hallway and strode from her view.
Morrigan began to burrow deeper into the covers, but froze when her elbow hit something small and soft. Taking a deep breath, she threw back the covers, gasped aloud, then started laughing. It was a bear, a teddy bear! And a rather grumpy looking bear at that. Still, from his presence in the bed and general threadbare condition Morrigan assumed that he was well-loved. She had never had a teddy bear, but her mother had once given her a brown velveteen rabbit from which she had been practically inseparable: That is, until that terrible New Year's Eve when she was ten, when she had awakened screaming in the middle of the night in the dark house. For some unknown reason she had climbed out of bed clutching Bunny (she had been a quite literal child) and had wandered out of the house into the Maine woods. By the time they had found her the next morning, curled around a white birch and suffering from exposure and dehydration, Bunny was long lost; funny how that had seemed to hurt more than the news that her mother had been killed that night in a drunk driving accident.
Well, perhaps even all-knowing (know-it-all, more like it) Time Lords needed comfort and security. Tentatively Morrigan reached for the bear, then curled up with it in her arms, safely ensconced in the covers she pulled about herself.
The Doctor in the meantime had been wandering the TARDIS listening intently. After a while he had also heard thumping, bumping, and screaming. Only it wasn't quite screaming. It was more like ... screeching. He had an uncomfortable suspicion, which was confirmed once he reached the cloister room, the source of the sounds.
Throwing open the doors, he was greeted by the noisemakers, who made diving runs towards him. "Jasper, Stewart, I'm sorry. I know, I forgot to leave the other door open, and you're hungry." He caught one bat, soothed, petted, and released him, then did the same with the other. Then he opened the doors that led into the grove and garden area, and calmly watched them speed away. He listened carefully, but could hear little else besides the comforting hum of the TARDIS.
He made his way back to his room, gently knocked on the doors, and slowly pushed it open. "It was only Jasper and ..." he began, but stopped when he noticed Morrigan was sound asleep, her eyelids covering her expressive emerald eyes.
He didn't have the hearts to wake her, and he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable, so he grabbed a pillow and a blanket and made a bed on the floor. Spotting his nightcap on the nightstand, he grabbed it, shook it out, then put it on. Climbing in between the folded blanket he wrapped it around himself and pulled the pillow closer to his head and shoulders. After a long, uncomfortable while, he finally dropped off to sleep. He woke again a few moments later, but only to roll onto his other side and move forward under the frame of the bed, where it was slightly warmer. The he drifted back to sleep.
Morrigan was awakened some time later by strange sounds. Her earlier terror was multiplied by the fact that there was now no doubt that the sounds were in the room, while the Doctor was not. At least, not as far as she could see. "Doctor?" she squeaked hoarsely. She tried again, her voice a louder whisper this time. The noises seemed to get louder, closer, and she screamed in panic.
"DOCTOR!"
Her terror got an immediate response. The Doctor sat bolt-upright, or at least tried to. However, the bedframe was in the way, and suffered an unfortunate collision with his head. "Ow!" he exclaimed as he tried to sit up again. This time, he managed. "Morrigan! Wha? Ow! What's wrong? What's going on?"
"I woke up and I heard noises in here and you weren't here and I panicked and screamed for you and -- why are you down there?" Her fear submerged as her curiosity reared its terrifying head.
"Well, I came back, and you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you, and I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, so I ...".
"You decided to sleep on the cold, hard floor. Why didn't you sleep in your own bed? There's plenty of room."
"Really, Morrigan, I didn't want to make you feel ..."
"Uncomfortable. I know." She was starting to get annoyed. There was being polite, and there was being a martyr. And if there was anything she couldn't take, it was someone being a martyr. "Listen, I'll just head back to my room and ...".
"There is really no need for you to do that ..."
"All right, then. We could probably fit a football team between us comfortably; so why don't you sleep on one side, and I'll sleep on the other."
"But I ..."
"Doctor, get in this bed IMMEDIATELY!", Morrigan shouted, her patience at an end. She realized how it sounded, but she'd kill him before she'd let him suffer all night on her account. "If you're really worried about your honor, or mine, I'll put these between us." She told him as she created a vertical line of demarcation with some of the numerous pillows. "I don't have a rope and a sheet, so I can't really do that. And don't even think of requesting a toy trumpet 'to blow down the walls of Jericho.'"
The Doctor, just climbing into his side of the bed, paused and stared blankly at her. "What?"
Morrigan regarded him. "Don't tell me you've never seen It Happened One Night."
"What happened? Which night?"
Morrigan snorted in derision. "One of these days I am going to sit you down and just make you watch old movies. You'd like this one," she said with a smile. "It stars Clark Gable."
"Oh?"
"And Claudette Colbert."
"Ohh"
Morrigan could hear a definite difference in his second reply, but she wasn't sure how to interpret it. Perhaps he wasn't as clueless as he let on. "Now, that's much more comfy than the floor, isn't it?" She tried to look severe, but couldn't help from giggling. "That's a nightcap, isn't it?"
"Yes, I believe it is. You know," the Doctor reflected thoughtfully, "I have never quite understood the association between this," indicating the nightcap, "and a mixed drink."
"Well, I think it's because -- Oh, never mind!" Morrigan could feel her face getting very warm as the Doctor stared at her, his head tilted slightly in curiosity and bemusement. "That's it!" She grabbed a pillow and swung it, solidly connecting with his shoulder. A few more well-placed thumps, and she'd managed to knock him off balance before he could defend himself. He was, in fact, so off balance that he unceremoniously fell out of the bed. Luckily he landed on the part of his body with the most padding (although that wasn't much, either). Rubbing both his head and his posterior, he grinned ruefully, "You win ... truce?"
"Okay, truce -- now get back in the bed, silly," she said with a smirk.
He opened his mouth to say something, then wisely closed it. Slipping into the bed, he began to curl up on his side, preparing to go to sleep. Suddenly, there was a tapping on his shoulder. "Mmm -- yes, Morrigan?"
"Aren't you forgetting something?" When he turned and stared at her in puzzlement she told him to sit up. Any number of ideas ran through his head, but not one was correct. She motioned him forward, put his nightcap on his head, and smiled in satisfaction. "There. It suits you," she said, trying not to laugh. "Very Victorian, very Dickensian."
"Is there something wrong with that?"
"No," she replied, succumbing to the giggling fit that overcame her. She laughed even harder when she noticed he was searching for something, and she realized what it was. "What are you looking for?"
"Nothing," he grumbled, plainly annoyed.
"It couldn't be THIS, could it?" Morrigan practically crowed, holding the bear as far from her as she could.
"It could be, and it is. Thank you," he replied, stretching a long arm towards her and quickly retrieving the teddy bear. Wrapping both arms around it, he curled up on his side and closed his eyes.
"You're no fun," she complained, nudging him gently. His only reply was to mumble a bit and pull the covers closer. Soon, he was deeply asleep. Morrigan checked to make sure he was still breathing (she was still trying to get used to that), then tried to go to sleep herself.
She tossed and turned a bit, and managed to sleep for a little while. Later she woke to find the Doctor facing her. He was still quite asleep, and his grip on the teddy bear was tenuous at best. After sliding a pillow towards him, she carefully eased the bear from under his hand. There was a moment of panic when he reached out, but ended up clutching the pillow instead. Satisfied, Morrigan curled up with the bear, and fell peacefully asleep.
The Doctor's sleep became troubled, and he soon woke to find his teddy bear missing. He searched everywhere, convinced it had slipped beneath the covers or dropped out of the bed. Finally, he spotted an ear peeking out -- from beneath Morrigan! She was sleeping with three quarters of her face and body towards the mattress, and the bear was securely pinned beneath her chest.
Now the Time Lord faced a dilemma. Did he want the bear back badly enough to reach where a gentleman really shouldn't be reaching? Rolling on his side away from Morrigan he tried desperately to go back to sleep. Giving it up as hopeless, he began to fidget, then climbed out of the bed and began to pace. Realizing he'd probably wake her up with all of the noise he was making, he slipped back into bed and tried to sit still.
Here I am, he thought, back at square one. He made a few half-hearted attempts, usually snatching his hand away at the last moment, afraid of embarrassing both himself and Morrigan. Then he decided to make one last try. Steeling himself, he stretched his arm towards the bear and gently latched onto its ear. Delicately pulling with an even tension, he eased the bear painfully slowly out from under her, until only its feet remained trapped. Realizing it would take two hands, he grabbed one of the bear's paws with the other hand and pulled gently but firmly. Finally the bear came free, but not before one of his hands brushed against Morrigan.
The Doctor froze in sheer panic, waiting for her to wake up. But Morrigan only murmured softly, sighed, and rolled onto her side, facing him. He could feel his face growing extremely warm as he realized exactly where his hand had been, so he turned away from her as the bear slid free. Wrapping himself and the bear in his arms in his covers, he laid down facing away from her. After a while, he managed to fall asleep, only to wake later and discover that Morrigan had reclaimed the bear.
And so it went all night, with the bear in either Morrigan's or the Doctor's temporary possession. Near "morning" they seemed to have reached a compromise: The teddy bear was on the pillow barrier, with the Doctor's hand across its stomach, and Morrigan's hand across its head and neck.
Morrigan woke first, and considered taking the bear. However, she just didn't have the heart to, especially after all the Doctor had done for her last night. She set the teddy bear inside his outflung arm near his face. After a moment he curled his arms about the bear, a slight, serene smile on his face. She made sure he was properly covered up, then headed towards the bedroom door. However, her attention was arrested by another door, one she hadn't really seen last night.
Opening the previously unnoticed door, she was once again astonished by the splendor before her. The door opened onto an adjoining bathroom, with the emphasis on bath. There were toilet facilities, a sink, and a shower off to the side, but the bathtub dominated the room.
The tub was nearly as large as the bed, and had fluted pillars at the corners. The interior was relatively lozenge-shaped, the exterior rectangular, and was made of amber-tinged marble with rich malachite veinings. Morrigan stepped over to it and ran her hands along the pillars and the sides. A wistful sigh escaped her lips, then a slight smile crossed them.
Carefully tiptoeing over to the door, she peered back into the bedroom. Good, she thought smugly. He's still sound asleep. She crept silently from the bathroom. She returned a moment later from her room with two huge towels in one hand, and her burgundy robe and shampoo in the other.
Checking on the Doctor once again and finding him still sound asleep, she shut the bathroom door behind her with only a slight 'click'. She gently set her things down next to the tub and started the water, checking the temperature. Satisfied that it was reasonably comfortable (she liked that boiled lobster feeling), she turned her attention towards one of the cupboards built into the wall.
Opening the cupboard, she found all types of towels and washcloths. Opening the next door over, she discovered shampoos, conditioners, skin lotions, and various medications (most of them were unused). In the small cupboard next to it, she found what she was looking for.
"Nirvana!" Morrigan breathed as her eyes took in the cornucopia before her. First and foremost was a large opened (and nearly empty) box of Mr. Bubble. Behind that was a multitude of brushes, loofahs, bottles of foaming bath soaps, and an assortment of bar soaps. Curious, she pulled out two bottles, one light blue and one brilliant green. She started reading the ingredients. "Calgon's got nothing on these," she murmured as she opened the bottles and sampled their scents. She replaced the blue one in favor of the green bottle which smelled faintly of vanilla and something she couldn't identify but figured was a musk.
She poured the liquid into the rapidly-filling tub, then went back to the door, peering out one last time. He was still sound asleep, thank goodness. She gently shut the door, pinned her hair up, and quickly stripped off her shorts and shirt. After dipping her toe in the water she swiftly slipped into the ever-growing mound of bubbles. Her eyes closed in pleasure as the hot silky water caressed and embraced her gently. "Give me a stereo and a good book, and there'd be no way you could pry me out of here," she mused, all of her muscles now completely relaxed.
Meanwhile, the Doctor began to stir. Waking by degrees, he savored the occasion. This, he decided, was a great improvement over being jolted awake by a distress call or the Cloister Bell. Finally, he stretched and climbed out of bed. Eyes still nearly-closed, he shuffled towards the bathroom to begin his morning ablutions.
Morrigan hear the door click a split-second before it opened with the Doctor standing in the doorway. She yelled as he started forward, doing her best to hide under the bubbles.
Morrigan's shout brought back memories of the night before, as well as the realization of what had just happened, and what nearly had happened. The Doctor's eyes were wide with panic, his face blood-red with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to -- I mean -- never mind!" He blurted this out as he covered his eyes with one hand, trying to back out of the room. Bumping into the doorway, he turned, dropped his hand so he could see, and exited not only the bathroom, but also the bedroom.
Finding himself out in the corridor he noted, with some concern, that he'd need to find a bathroom soon. He ran across to Morrigan's room and into her bathroom (after all, fair is fair). After a few moments he returned to the hallway, looking physically relieved, but somewhat disconcerted.
Knocking on his bedroom door (he had slammed it shut behind him in his panicked flight) he crossed his fingers and called softly, "Morrigan?" After a moment the door opened slowly. Morrigan simply stared at him, and he could only hold her gaze a moment before concentrating fixedly on his toes. He absently noted that she wore a towel around her head and the same burgundy robe she had loaned him on their first adventure. The enticing vanilla scent that seemed to emanate from her did not help his concentration (those curves and shapes, outlined by bubbles--best not to think about it).
"I am so very sorry, Morrigan. I just ... forgot, I guess ... I would never intentionally ..." He could feel his face getting very warm again.
"I know you wouldn't, Doctor. I could tell by the look on your face. You were blushing even more than you are now. It's all right ... ." She opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come in. "It is your room, after all." She decided it might be safer to just change the subject. "By the way, what was all that noise last night?"
He smiled somewhat abashed and explained, "I forgot to feed Jasper and Stewart last night."
"Who are Jasper and Stewart? Your cats? Dogs? Pet Goldfish?"
The Doctor looked even more abashed at this point. "They're bats -- you don't mind bats, do you?"
"No, I mind owners who forget to feed their pets. You'll have to introduce me to them. Maybe they won't go hungry if one of us remembers them, right?" She relented at his abashed look. "Geez, you are just too easy to guilt trip, aren't you? Uneasy conscience?"
"I don't think so. Are you doing better today?"
"Hmm? Oh yes, I'm just fine. It's just a new place, I guess," she explained, trying to look cool about everything that had happened. She still was not looking forward to tonight, bats or no bats. The slight bit of lighting afforded by the candles and (she had to admit) the Doctor's presence had allowed her to sleep better than she had in quite some time. No nightmares, nothing. "It's going to be tough going back to that little camp bed after all of this luxury," she said ruefully as she sat on the bed, stroking the blue velvet bedcover that matched the hanging curtains.
The Doctor, whose thoughts had been following somewhat along the same lines (at least he hadn't sleepwalked again), said absently "You don't have to, you know. It's somewhat comforting to have someone nearby as you sleep, you know," he added shyly, hoping he hadn't said or done anything improper.
"Haven't you ever slept with any of your other companions?" Morrigan blurted out before she quite figured out what she was saying.
The Doctor, however, chose to take her literally. "Yes, when we'd been knocked out, or gassed, or the time Sarah and I were trapped in that cave during a snowstorm. If we hadn't curled up together and conserved our energy, we'd have died long before they found us."
But never here, in your bed?" she asked gently. When he shook his head, a devilish gleam illuminated her eyes. "So, I'm the first?" she teased lightly.
His total bewilderment, coupled with a mumbled "I suppose so," caused her to cease her teasing immediately.
"So you don't mind if I sleep in your bed?" God, that sounded absolutely scandalous. However, from what little she knew of him, his offer was simply a naively innocent one, made to calm her fears, not increase them.
"If I minded, I wouldn't have offered," he replied honestly. This she knew to be true. The Doctor might be relatively laid-back, but he had very definite opinions, and was not afraid to voice them (although it was usually in a relatively polite manner). "And the offer stands."
Morrigan thanked him again for his previous night's patience and understanding, then stepped into the bathroom. When she stepped out holding her shampoo bottle, he asked, in a puzzled voice, "What are you doing?"
"Putting this back in my room. I've probably presumed too much already. It's just that ... well, I had to try out a tub like that just once ..."
"Like what?"
"That, Doctor, is a Tub of the Gods," she answered, remembering her luxurious soak. "People would sell their first-born child for it. How'd you get it?"
"When I reconfigured the TARDIS I thought it might be nice to soak in the bathtub without my knees sticking out of the water, and the old girl came up with this."
"Oh well, easy come, easy go. Guess I'd better get my bathroom in order," she told him as she stepped towards the door.
An embarrassed throat-clearing stopped her progress. Did she have a hole in her robe or something? "Umm, Morrigan?"
"Yes?"
"I'm afraid your bathroom is not in the best of shape. The basic necessities work, but the shower growls when you use the sink faucet. I don't even want to tell you what happens if you try to use the bath or shower. Let's just say that it's not advisable." The Doctor looked at her somewhat philosophically, remarking, "Guess that's another thing to put on the list."
"What list?"
"The list of things to fix around here." He smiled at her gently. "Well, until I get that fixed, you can use my tub, or the bathroom down the other hall. If you decide to use this one, I promise to knock, all right?"
Morrigan laughed a bit and nodded, putting her shampoo back in the bathroom. She'd almost swear he was more embarrassed about walking in on her than she'd been. "So what's on the agenda for today?"
"Agenda?"
She might have known ... if he had any kind of plan for anything, it was to make it up as he went along. "Yes, Doctor. What are we going to do? Is there somewhere we're going?"
"Probably, but not until after I've bathed, straightened things up a bit, and dressed. Then we can go anywhere and anywhen you'd like." He liked impressing companions with that bit of news.
"Seriously?"
"Yes Morrigan. Seriously. The TARDIS travels in time and ..."
Morrigan dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. "No, not that ... You're really going to clean up after yourself?"
The Doctor looked perplexed. "Of course. Why shouldn't I?" He tilted his head to the one side, quizzical yet attentive.
"I've just never heard of it happening before. I thought it was just some sort of genetic defect that most men suffered, sort of like color-blindness." The sly smirk on her lips let him know she wasn't completely serious.
"Perhaps I'm the exception to the rule," he teased back, that slightly lopsided smile creasing his face. "Now, I suggest you get dressed while I take my bath, and then we'll see about breakfast. We'll need to eat before we go exploring, you know."
With this he closed the lockless bathroom door behind him, and a moment or two later, running water was clearly audible.
Even more audible, a moment later, was a long, shuddering sigh of relief and utter relaxation. Morrigan smiled fondly at the bathroom door before she headed back towards her room. "Doctor, I get the feeling you're the exception to a lot of rules."