| *sigh* This isn't quite as good as I wanted it to be, but here it is.. I was Dared by Andie Stabler to write a story wherein Turlough gets Romantic advice from the Doctor... ;) |
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, I'm just borrowing them for the time being. I've put them back gently, I think. No money is made from this, etc, etc.. Note: Eighth Doctor. I think. *sigh* I've never written him before...
by Ana Lyssie Cotton"I just--I just don't know what to do," Turlough hunched forward in his chair, looking miserable. He clutched the mug as if it were the last chance he'd have to hold anything. "Do you think you could help me? Please? You seem to be terribly good at this."
They were drinking tea, he and the Doctor. Around them, the Tardis gardens beckoned, lush flowers, fluffy overhead clouds and warm spring breezes that played with their hair.
"Well, why don't you start from the beginning?" The Doctor asked as he sipped his tea, watching the young Trion struggle with his thoughts.
Turlough looked again at this new Doctor with his long reddish-brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. He was rather attractive, too. He sighed. "It began when I ran into her--literally--in a corridor. I knocked everything out of her arms and she cursed me out."
"My, that's... Continue, please."
"Next, we ended up being asigned to the same floor. I saw her quite often then, couldn't get her to ever do more than ignore me." He winced, "She'd turn up her nose and sniff."
The Doctor waited, silent as Turlough leaned back and sipped his tea. A bird twittered in the middle distance.
"Then came that night." Turlough closed his eyes, his lips twisting into a grimace. "A rather large crew of us were trawling the spaceport, looking for felons and stragglers. We all went to the one bar. A fight broke out." His eyes opened and they looked bleak. "Five of my coworkers--some of them my friends--died that night. When the lot of us got back.. We.. About five of us--including her--sat around and drank bottle after bottle of wine. It was good stuff, after awhile, it dulled the edges a bit."
Silence regined for the next while--except for the sounds of the birds. Chirps and twitters and rustles and calls.
"In bed together." The Doctor guessed.
"Well... yeah.." Turlough nodded, then blushed. "Although it wasn't um.. never mind."
Humour flashed in the Doctor's eyes for a moment then was gone. "So, the problem is..?"
"She won't talk to me. Won't look at me. Ignores me completely. I thought we shared something splecial that night!" His voice was very young and childish sounding. For an instant a thought crossed the Doctor's mind, then he shook his head and it went away.
"And you feel about her, what. Love? Lust? Jealousy?"
"Love. I love her, dammit. I have since I first ran into her," Turlough shifted, suddenly looking eager. "I want her to love me. I want to marry her!"
"Marry her." He nodded and sipped a bit. "And you've come to me for advice?"
"Yes." Turlough looked at him hopefully.
The Doctor sighed, "Have you tried talking to her, writing her notes, giving her gifts--that sort of thing?"
Turlough brightened, "Gifts? What kind?"
"Chocolate? Flowers--roses, not red though!" He paused then continued thoughtfully, "Jewelry is sometimes a good idea."
"OK, I'll remember those. More?"
"Always treat her with respect, ask her opinions. Listen to her." The Doctor shrugged, "Those are about it. If you really love her, you already should have instinctively known some of this."
"I do--I did. I think," Turlough stopped and blinked. "Listen to her opinions. Yeah, I think I can do that. What about telling her how sexy she is?"
"It depends on how you phrase it, and on whether she's dressed like Lady Godiva or Mother Theresa."
"Oh. OK. What else?"
"Try asking her to dinner--no strings attatched--one night. Cook it yourself."
"I can't cook! Besides, that's what replicators are for," Turlough was beginning to gain all the confidence that had been lacking over the last few minutes. "Why shouldn't she want to love me?"
"Why not indeed," the Doctor muttered under his breath. Still, something akin to fear had shone in Turlough's eyes, so maybe there was hope for the lad after all.
"Anyway," Turlough stood up. "I really should be going, need to get back to what I was doing and work on, on.."
The Doctor stood as well and smiled, "Good luck."
Nodding, Turlough turned to head out through the garden, then stopped. "Thank you."
© 1999 Ana Lyssie Cotton