Copyright 1998 Mareid Sullivan As always, the characters of the Doctor, Tegan, Nyssa, Adric and the TARDIS don't belong to me. I'm only borrowing them and will return them "unharmed" when I'm done with them. All comments welcomed, begged for, bribed after, and pleaded for! * HEALING * Part I The Night, Young save tonight, fight the break of dawn, for come tomorrow I'll be gone It was Nyssa's boudoir that first began to fill his dreams, the ones he couldn't deny. It was a very nice room, really, as the TARDIS rooms went. He liked it. The Doctor had he always been this way? tended to casually assign quarters like well, like quarters, a handful of loose change tossed their way so that he got ten pennies, Tegan two nickels, and Nyssa a dime. Equal, but different. And it was in Nyssa's boudoir that he crept closer, waiting for the moment when her eyes would turn away from the mirror that would betray his silent presence. He clutched the copper rose in one hand, so tightly that the petals cut his palm. He'd made it for her using the mathematical probabilities learned on Logopolis, where he'd seen her again after thinking for so long so long that he never would. And he had been too shy for so long. Thinking, stupidly, how there would be all the time he needed in the time machine, never realizing how it was that this waited for no one. He'd noticed a long time again how it was that Tegan would often spend the night in Nyssa's quarters. She'd strut boldly, nothing to hide, up to Nyssa's door. A knock would be answered by an indistinguishable murmur, and then inside she went, and bang! went the door in Adric's face. Still, he'd never thought that they did anything more than the usual girly trifling, giggling over boys thousands of years and kilometers away, trying on lipsticks and perhaps each other's clothing. Adric had very little clue about what girls did together, except giggle and be silly. And he'd never thought Nyssa or Tegan did anything but that. Until the night that he heard the moaning. He'd been bolder that night, wanting nothing more than to hear Nyssa's voice when it wasn't lecturing or teasing, and had crept closer until he was huddled against the shut door, his ear pressed to it. They had been quiet he hadn't expected that. Curious, he pushed his ear closer and concentrated. Then, he'd heard it. The rustle of a blouse, or maybe a skirt, being pushed aside, and the almost inaudible whisper of skin caressing skin. Then the moan soft, rich, warm, undulating with lust and need. The soft cries of urging on and on, up above the peak and then again. The rushed breath, the ragged pleading that made Nyssa's gentle voice harsh with wanting. They were making love! There was no mistaking it. Though he'd never heard anything like it before, he'd listened to his own noises when satisfying himself, and knew the sounds of sex, knew the smell of it, knew the heat and the light. He thought he heard her cry, "Tegan! Tegan!" as the skins whispered against one another, and the muffled sighs. His own body stiffened so hard, so fast, that the shock of it made him grunt. He froze, thinking that he'd been heard, but the noises inside continued on, rising in pitch and speed; quickly, he couldn't bear it anymore and his own hand fumbled desperately with the catch on his trousers. In his hand, he throbbed and burned, hard as cordwood and hot as blue fires. He smothered the groans in his throat as he rose to his own climax, once, twice, and even again. Alzarians were never sexually satisfied by only one time, and he had always been glad of it. But now, oh now, nothing would fulfill him, stop the swelling need, until he was buried between the soft velvet flesh of Nyssa's thighs... the thighs that Tegan was... He bit the back of his hand to stop the cry of despair, and rode his own wave as Nyssa did hers. It was hours before her passionate moans stopped, and faded into silence. Spent, soaked with his own wasted seed, Adric barely had the strength to crawl back to his own quarters. But the thought of being found by Tegan, leaving in the morning, her eyebrow lifting with amused scorn the Doctor, startled but silent Nyssa! He found the energy to drag himself back into bed, and wept as his sore member stiffened once again at the thought of her. Relief was agony. Finally, sleep overtook him as nothing else could. He slept for hours, waking only when they landed on the Mara's world. Nyssa, ill or so she said remained to heal herself while they traveled out. They wondered at his harshness to Tegan, but never commented. He wished they had, it would have given him the excuse to dig his claws into her and destroy kill And now they were here, together, and she knew how he had felt. Knew how he felt still. He fumbled, nervous. The rose seemed stupid now and he put it roughly aside, wiping his dampened hands against his thighs. A boy with no real experience, but more desire than he had words. "Nyssa..." he whispered, terrified. Nyssa wouldn't open her eyes. "You thought that... Tegan, and I... you thought..." He had no reply but the hottest of blushes and a tied tongue. "You listened," she whispered, stricken. "I didn't mean to," he tried to explain. "I was just there, and it just happened!" She shook her head. Dewy tears squeezed from between her eyelids, dotting her crimson cheeks. A hand appeared in Adric's field of vision; to his surprise it was his own, reaching out to gently knuckle one of the drops from her face. Her skin, so smooth under his fingers... "Freckles," he said softly. Her eyes opened at that. "What?" "Freckles." He was unaware of the deep warmth that had crept into his voice; he smiled. "You're covered in them." So porcelain at first glance, close up her skin was an intricate tapestry of the palest, prettiest freckles. He realized how close to her he'd drawn; wondered at how it had happened. She would slap him it wouldn't be Nyssa if she didn't but his arms slipped out of their own accord, and circled around her. Fragile as a deer. She felt like a butterfly in his arms, light and any instant slipping away. Alarmed, he closed the circle of his arms, trapping her within them. She trembled; he sought to still her with the warmth of his embrace. The perfume of her hair flooded his head as he whispered into one small ear: "I never meant..." She shook with fear? indecision? Her arms rose, then fell, then rose to hover in the air. "I've never... with a man... I've never..." Hope filled him. "Nyssa," he said softly. "D'you realize you called me a man? I'm only a boy, Nyssa." There was a long pause, and then she shook her head. "No," she said with sudden force. "You're not only a boy." A longer pause, one that he could almost not bear, and then there was the awe-inspiring, lightest touch, her lips on his cheek. "Adric," she said quietly. "Adric, this is madness." "No." He fought to keep the excitement out of his voice lest he frighten her. "It's the best kind of sanity." Then, his fingers gentle under her chin, turning her face towards his, he put his lips hesitantly, uncertainly on hers. Nyssa froze at the unaccustomed touch. Then perhaps it was his familiar awkwardness perhaps some strange gift of the TARDIS her own uncertain lips pressed against his, and the world flowered inside their minds. Heat, light. Honey and bitter monk's hood. She tasted everything his life had been on his lips. They trembled, the both of them, terrified yet suddenly filled with a maddening need that deprived them of all sense and made only that moment, out of all the moments in time, matter. Neither knew what to do, but somehow they learnt it quickly. It was Adric who took the initiative, tentatively undoing one button at a time until she tore them away herself and bared her small, perfect breasts, in their simple cotton bra, to his eyes. "You," he said slowly, staring. The differences between their bodies fascinated him. He gently turned her around until her back was to him, unable to resist first one kiss, then another and another and another on her soft neck and shoulders, feeling her begin to tremble again differently and knowing it was his touch that caused it. He slid his fingers underneath the hook-and-eye clasp of her bra, and puzzled over it until he figured the mechanics out, sliding it off her arms, and his hands over her breasts, in the same inspired motion. Her gasp rang in his ears as he felt the soft nipples unbelievably soft pucker into tight, rosebud knots underneath his fingers. "Nyssa," he whispered into her ear. "Tell me if I hurt you." She shook her head wordlessly. I don't know what I'm doing, but I want you so much that it's killing me, he thought fervently, and didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until her back arched and she murmured, "Adric... how long...?" "Always!" he said, turning her around to face him. "Since the moment I saw you..." "Tell me," she whispered, nuzzling her face shyly into the crook of his shoulder. He paused, then boldness burst from him. "At the fancy dress ball, when you simply tore me to bits over eating too much, I wanted to fill my mouth with you. I wanted to take that silly bit of a dress off and have you in front of everyone." She gasped, shocked, yet he felt the thrill run through her. "I know you never thought of it before" he started. "No!" she cut him off. Then, more shyly, "No." "Nyssa..." Self-control fled, and he pressed her to him, so that she could feel him hard and rigid against herself. "Nyssa, please..." "Yes," she whispered. "It's madness. It's madness. I want you so..." I want you. It rang in his ears, drove him almost over the edge just to hear it. With a ragged inhalation, he reined himself back. Not yet. "Please..." she begged. "Yes..." he whispered, thrilling them both with the fear and the need in his voice. Instinct guided him; he put his face to her breast and kissed, at first gently then with greater urgency, until he found his mouth filled with perfumed satin that tickled against his tongue. Her small hands wrapped around him and pressed him closer, closer, until it was hard to take the savage gasps of air that he needed. He let his hand wander lower, needing to adjust the binding clothing, and found her own hand on his hip; it was so easy, so natural to guide her fingers over, through the concealed gap in his trousers. Soft as satin, her fingers, on him, tentatively surrounding him, surprised at the drop of moisture yet running her thumb over it in wonder that made him insane. He was a boy, he knew nothing, but when her other hand guided him to her heated center there was no need for outside knowledge. Shy, wondering, marveling at the way they were both constructed, he dipped within her with the touch of a feather. The moans that had imprinted themselves into his memory came now at his need, at his bidding, and the dream that he seemed to be in was the best of his life. Nyssa shook her head, hair tumbling back over her half-naked shoulders, eyes dreamy with desire that came almost unbidden. "Can this be you and I?" she asked. "If you want it to be," he mumbled against her breast, teasing it with the tip of his tongue to see what she'd do and thrilling at the reaction that was her answer. Hands everywhere, peeling off clothing, toying and unwrapping and unlacing until they stood before each other in nude wonder, gazing and staring as if they'd never get enough. She was older he realized it now or was it just the way she was made? His body, still so boyish, ached with an adult's need under her wondering eyes; hers sang under the learning touch he gave to her. The bed was soft beneath them, although how they got there, they never quite knew. Their kisses tasted of wine and sweat. Adric trembled, instinct roaring in his ears in a blind attempt to understand what to do next. One muscle at a time, a kiss for each effort, he moved until he was atop her, braced on his elbows yet with the tugging of her arms pulling him down. He laughed in amazed delight. "Can this be you and I?" he repeated her. "If you want it to be," came the soft reply. Bold: "Don't make me wait any longer, now, now..." And it was easy as putting on a glove, the instinctual slow thrusting within her waiting center the moment of resistance, the soft tearing and her cry of pain the warm rush of blood the shaking as he forced himself to slow, not to finish it all at once. Her hips moved beneath his, a rhythm learned at another teacher's hands, but one that he fell into sync with as with a harmony. Thrusting, tongues parrying as they kissed, frantic hands suddenly fierce with passion, legs tangling together in a lover's knot, the groans and cries unheedingly loud... the moment when his head seemed to explode, and hers as well, riding a tidal wave to the very top and over, filled with each other. They did not realize that the door to Nyssa's quarters stood slightly ajar. They did not hear the footsteps approaching slowing stopping then suddenly beginning to run away, fading into the distance. All they heard was each other. All they knew was the blending. All they knew was the new beginning. They did not know that for Tegan, it seemed like the end. ------------------------------------- From: Bardesse@aol.com Copyright 1998 Mareid Sullivan As always, the characters of the Doctor, Tegan, Nyssa, Adric and the TARDIS don't belong to me. I'm only borrowing them and will return them "unharmed" when I'm done with them. All comments welcomed, begged for, bribed after, and pleaded for! * HEALING* Part II  The Beginning -- every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end-- Tegan clung to the edge of the console, biting her lip until blood ran down her chin. Her knuckles turned white with the power of her grip. "You'll want this." A quiet voice. Warm, familiar. The Doctor. She turned her head the slightest fraction, unable to look him in the eyes. She caught sight of the white hankie he held out. No questions that it would be agony to answer. No accusations. Just silent comfort, and a handkerchief. It was so like him that the tears burned her eyes. And yet she couldn'twouldn'tlet go of the console to take it from him; it was her lifeline, it kept her upright. There was a moment of hesitation, and then the Doctor's sure, strong hand was near her face, the hankie dabbing gently at the drops of blood. She knew that he knew, that he must have passed by Nyssa's room and heard the cries that neither bothered to conceal, male and female passion expressed in loud groans and soft moans, the rustling of bedsprings, the climax... He didn't have to say it. They knew. They both knew. And suddenly the tears sprang from Tegan's eyes, hot and angry. "She was mine!" she cried, choking the words out. "Mine." How many times had he known this to happen inside his TARDIS? Furtive gropings, passionate lovemaking. Surely the police box had seen it all, surely he had heard it all. But how many times had there been betrayal like this? "There's a broken heart for every circle made in the Vortex," she heard him say, voice low and warm, not trying to soothe and thus soothing her. "Many, many times, Tegan. More than I could count." "Tell me," she choked out. "Tell me." He paused, then nodded, sensing what it meant to her. "Susan, who cried at my knee when she realized that Ian and Barbara were lovers and that she'd never have Ian for her own. She left with David, not so long after that. I never knew if she made the right choice." He swallowed, a rough sound. "Victoria, the first time she caught Jamie with Zoe up against the console. This console." Tegan laughed, strangled yet audible. "The Scot?" "Oh, aye," the Doctor mimicked the accent. "Suppose she found out what they really wear beneath the kilt." He chuckled. "In detail. They'd been lovers for a while. Jamie'd gotten the idea when he accidentally caught Ben and Polly. It goes in cycles, rather. One affects the others." "And the others?" He sighed, rubbing his hand against his temple. "Not so much, as the years went on. Sometimes I'd have only the one companion with me, and sometimes I traveled alone, you know." Tegan struggled with the words, but she had to know. "And you?" she choked. "Me?" The Doctor looked startled. Was thatit couldn't bea blush? "Ah, yes, well, me." "You're dithering, Doctor," she said softly, relaxing her grip on the console ever so slightly. It felt good to tease him. "Ah. Yes, I suppose I am, rather." He coughed. "Me. Well. Yes. You really want to know?" "I do." The force of her voice convinced them both. The Doctor lowered his voice, unconsciously coming a bit closer so that she could hear. "Liz. She was the first since... well, since Gallifrey, really. That's not the way of my people, you know. It was a surprise to me, watching Ian and Barbaranot watching, you understand," he amended hastily. "Just" Tegan laughed. "Yes," she agreed. He continued, hemming and hawing a bit in his embarassment. "Yes, well, I'd always been too old before then. Perhaps. Felt a bit too fatherly, really. Not that I felt differently with Liz, at first. The spirit might have been willing, yes, but the body was rather older. Didn't know what it was capable of yet." "She showed you, eh?" He smelt spicy. Why hadn't she ever noticed that before? He laughed unexpectedly. "That she did, Tegan. And then, when she left so suddenly, I knew why Susan had cried. Knew it because I felt it, you see?" Tegan's throat tightened again. "Then, there was Jo, and not until before our last adventure did I ever touch her. It was my job to protect her, you see. She touched me first. It does seem like that's always the way. But for a while there, I thought that even though my hair was white and my limbs growing weak that I could stand tall and fight the monsters again. Yes." He shook his head. "Then she left for a very pretty face and a prettier dream, and I let her go. Had to, really." He went on in a rush. "After that, not until Romana. I was a bit of a rake then, don't mind telling you. Sarah Jane would've slapped both of me quite silly, but Romana was more than eager from the start. Many's the time we spun around and around the Vortex and stayed lost inside each other." Tegan squirmed slightly. Did he know how his voice deepened, roughened from the pleasant tenor to a lover's bass? The smell grew stronger, spicier, like cloves and honey and coffee. Startled, she realized that this was the scent of an aroused Time Lord. Did he know it? "And then, there was Adric. And then Nyssa, and then you. And I had to let Romana go," he finished quietly. Tegan shook her head silently, forgetting his scent in a wash of painful memories. Nyssa's remembered smell overwhelmed her senses and blocked out the rest. She felt a warm hand cover hers. "Brave heart, Tegan," he whispered. "It passes." She shook her head. "How?" "Time," said the Time Lord. "It's a slow and bitter cure, but it does work in the end." Tegan laughed, a dark and angry sound. "I'm not a virgin, Doctor. Does that surprise you to know? Even before Nyssa I was never a virgin." She sensed his feelings of awkward startle. "It does," she said. "Not as such, Tegan. Do you know, I wasn't sure about you and Nyssa, I wasn't. Heard a few things, but any fool knows about the many causes for it. Did see how Adric longed for her, though, and I suppose I knew this night would come." He hesitated. "Though I was surprised to learn that you were" She snorted. "A lesbian? Hardly. She was the first woman, and I s'pose it was because there was no one but her and Adric and I wasn't about to take that boy into my bed." The Doctor laughed unexpectedly. "That I did know." "It was..." she hunted in vain for words. "It was..." His hands covered hers again. "Like nothing else, eh? As if you were the only two under the millions of stars." She nodded, and the movement suddenly released the valve within her that had been holding back the storm of grief. "It hurts" Awkward for a moment, he gently hugged her to him. "Brave heart," he murmured as he patted her back. "Brave heart." The sudden onrush of need took her by surprise; from the catch in his breathing she thought perhaps he'd felt it too. The spicy smell teased her nostrils. There was a moment of such awkwardness that it sparked anger in her. She thumped him weakly with her fist. "Shut up! Shut up, Doctor, don't say that again..." "Hit me if you like, Tegan," he said, surprising her. "Throw all your strength in it. Beat the anger out on this old Time Lord if it'll help." "Ha!" she snorted. "You'd never" "Hit me!" he ordered, grabbing her fists in his hands. "Tegan!" She struggled against him in vainhe was stronger than he lookedand he fought her with all his strength; she only realized when it was too late that he was working the anger and fight out of her, making her weak and able to accept her grief. That he was arousing her, deliberately, and leaving the final choice up to her. "Damn you!" she spat at last. "Do you mean that?" he came back instantly, eyes dark and burning into hers. There was no moment of decision. "No!" she snapped, fixing his dilated eyes with her own. There was no moment of decision. His mouth came down on hers, hard and punishing, sucking away the anger. There was no moment of decision. The crushing pressure suddenly became a kiss, a kiss that she shared in with all of the passion in her. Tongues thrust and caressed, moans swallowed in each other's throats. The Doctor's spicy scent rose in a sharp cloud. Her head spun with the intoxicating power of it, that and the sense of disbelief that this was actually happening. "Tegan, be sure," he said thickly. "Be sure!" "I am sure. Doctor" He whispered his name, his true name, into her ear, and she cried it softly aloud as he did hers. Hands that could manipulate a sonic screwdriver with the finest of delicacy became wonderfully rough and brutal as he tore at her blouse, forcing his fingers beneath the tight lace bits of her brassiere. Buttons fell away from their moorings as he drove his face against her breasts, tongue teasing and sucking and biting She felt the sudden, massive hardness rising up against her. The realization that he needed this as much as she did, to blunt the pain of his own memories Equally brutal, she jerked off the silly cricketer's coat and sweater, only vaguely feeling his hands help hers in removing the shirt. His chest was lean, surprisingly muscle, covered in a fine coat of curling blond hairs over two puckered nipples. How human he seemed! Only his taste was different as she drank his sweet, spicy sweat and drew patterns on his skin with her tongue. He groaned, a sound of maddened frustration, and forced her down. They fumbled for a moment and then the cold floor was under her heated back, his heavy weight crushing her from above. Her skirt was shoved above her hips and then gone, and somehow his trousers had disappeared and there was nothing but skin on skin on skin on skin She knew how to please a man, and it was no harder to please a hardened Time Lord, her hand tightening around him with brutal force. The harsh, shuddering groan she evoked tuned her electrified nerves to a breaking point. He knew how to please a womaneven a human womansomeone had taught him well. Those same fingers burrowed within her, rough-tipped and forceful, slick soon with her juices as he flicked the nub with one nail until she screamed. There were no more preliminaries, nothing between either and the culimnation both wanteddesperately neededwere far too gone to forgo now. He dragged, shoved her, until her belly pressed into the cold floor and her tight bum was raised for him. Her thighs were shoved apart, and from behind his swollen self was driven into her with the force of a battering ram. Tegan howled loudly, hoping they heard her from where they were curled into each other's arms; his bellow was muffled against her throat but loud enough to blast the ears of those who had left him before. When he came, it was sudden and with all the strength of her earlier tears, flooding her with seeds and a final thrust that sent her over the edge, riding the wave into darkness. Was her sense of time skewed, or was it really that the seed poured for what seemed like forever, built up for the years of celibacy into a powerful jet that hit her like acid? She clutched at his sheened back, leaving scratches and furrows, just as his hands dug deep bruises into her breasts. The ghosts of a dozen shocked companions and others, highly amused, floated around them for one second and then it was over. Tegan came back to herself slowly, his crushing weight a comfort as he exhaled short, sharp, hot breaths against her throat. They had not said a single word, only screamed their outrage and anger as they battered each other in this strange comfort. Her body was slick with sweat and sexual juices, smeared somehow everywhere, hers and his together. Her hands gentled, uncurling painfully from where they had locked on his back. He raised himself slightly on his elbows and a bit of the weight was relieved. She could feel him, not yet soft but not bursting with the need for relief, against her inner thigh, tingling gently. The room was full of the sweet spicy smell, and the musky odor of sex. When he spoke, it startled her; she'd forgotten the use of words. "There won't be a child," he said roughly. "There couldn't be." Tegan shook her head, unable to speak. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, deeply yet tenderly. He returned the kiss, yet rose even further on his elbows, away from her. Her eyes focused on his, deeply embarrassed, and saw the red deepening in his cheeks. "Tegan," he began. "I'm sorry" "I'm not," she said, low in her throat. She licked at the sweat on his crimsoned face, reveling in the taste. "I want more, Doctor. More!" His fingers toyed with her sweat-soaked hair, shy now that the first burst of need had passed. "You're sure" he said softly. "Very," she said, her accent deepening. "I want more." She did not say, I want you, far less I love you, and he understood. She, too, would leave him someday, and he would let her go. Perhaps more than once. And there would be others. For both of them. But for now there was the TARDIS floor, their mixed sweat, and the need that was already causing him to grow hard again. Hate-love, love-hate, anger and passion. They needed each other. This strange coupling. It was good. It was for now. It was enough. For now. Healing. Still innocent, still a child and yet a man, Adric grew used to the feeling of Nyssa's hair tickling his chin as she snuggled in his naked arms and drowsed. Healing. Only half-asleep, Nyssa felt the unaccustomed warmth of breath on her neck, and a callused palm cupping her breast. Healing. Tegan gripped the Doctor's hand in hers, laughing as they crept nude from the console room deeper into the TARDIS, seeking out the blood-heating waters of the pool or the sun-warmed grass of the butterfly hill. Healing. The Doctor, shocked and delighted at his own audacity, no longer embarrassed and no longer yearning without fulfillment. It had been too long. Tegan... he had never thought Tegan. Tegan. He tasted her yet. He would take his time, next timehe would teach her the secrets Time had taught to him. Healing. The TARDIS spun on through time and space, and the universe was silent. Healing. Healing. Healing...