Work Text:
Two People Talking...
"Stop sulking."
"I'm not sulking," he sulked. "My ears hurt from when you were screaming in them. This is stupid."
"I'm sure everything will be just tickety-boo. If we just explain -"
"Explain what?"
"That we can't, of course," she said brightly, bright curls bouncing. "It's just super-simple, isn't it?"
"Well, I probably could," he huffed, "but I won't. And they say we have to, or we can't leave."
"That's just silly. As I said, we'll just explain that nice people don't do that sort of thing."
"People do too do that sort of thing. Just ask the Doctor -"
"You can't talk to the Doctor about that!" she squealed. He clapped his hands over his ears, glaring miserably at her - then grabbed at his blanket as she squealed even louder, shutting her eyes tightly.
She's already explained to their captors - at the top of her voice, which put him in mind of a stuck alien piggly - that she wanted her polka-dotted pantsuit back. Their captors, who called themselves Ultras, had said clothes were not necessary for the demonstration. She'd demanded - in a voice that topped the former and sounded like a stuck piggly with toothache - to know what the task was. The Ultras had said something about a Bonding Ceremony.
She'd stopped. And thought. And screamed loud enough to bring down the Ultra's entire building.
He'd fainted. And now couldn't decide whether the embarrassment of fainting was worse than the horrifying idea of doing that with... well, her.
She was still babbling. "Even your Doctor -"
"Doctors. I had two of them, you only had one." And he didn't say it, but thought very loudly, and not much of a Doctor at that.
"Even your Doctors," she corrected with aggravating niceness, "would be absolutely appalled, of course. The Doctor is a gentleman -"
"All seven or eight of him."
"And anyway, you're too young for that sort of thing."
"I'm not!" He was outraged.
"You are." She was chirpily certain. "Have you ever done... it?"
"Have you?"
"That's not a nice question."
"You're just too old to..." He saw her mouth open to argue - probably at appalling length, she was even worse than Tegan! - and backtracked. "Too old for me, I mean." He then thought of doing it with Tegan, and would rather faint again.
"The Doctor will rescue us," she said, clutching her own blanket to her chest.
He hoped so, he really really hoped so. He'd rather do it with Tegan - he had a vague idea (from his brother's and the older boys' sniggering accounts) that there was screaming involved, and his ears were still ringing from her earlier shrieks she'd found that her clothes had vanished.
Where was a TARDIS when he needed it?
the end