Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

A/N: You may have seen this fic somewhere else; this is a slightly edited version. Thanks to a reviewer on the Teaspoon, who mentioned the stone grading system.

Romana regarded a dozen smooth stones set in a straight line in the middle of a vast lawn that wasn't very well-kept. She, the Doctor, the TARDIS and the row of stones were the only things taller than the grass, in every direction. "What do you think the purpose of these stones was?"

The Doctor had turned his face to the brilliant sun and seemed rather dazed by the warmth. He hadn't more than glanced at the stones. "A fence? The foundation of a house? Advertisement? Could be anything."

"They're a metre apart. That's too widely spaced for –"

"Did you know," the Doctor cut her off, seemingly unaware that she had even spoken, "On one of the planets in the Krkv yst system, there are stones as soft as pillows. The people there use them solely for that purpose, in fact. They go out into quarries and pick them, like… windfalls."

"Really? Stones?"

"Yes, they're definitely stones."

"How curious. I don't believe you."

The Doctor spun round and looked at her, wide-eyed. "We can construct a model of their molecular structure later."

"Why not now?"

"Why not later?"

Romana shrugged. "All right then, later."

"We should go to Krkv yst. Though there's not much to see, except for the stones. No fun at all, actually. Let's go to China in the 15th century instead, I could use another vase." He started to turn around again.


He froze, mid-turn, looked back at her.

"Stones as soft as pillows?"

He grinned. "Even softer." Then he promptly walked over to the nearest stone, lay down spread-eagled on the grass, and rested his head on it.

"Soft?" she asked.

"Well, this is a stone of the usual hard sort. Quite nice, nevertheless." He squinted up at the brilliant sun. "Very nice, actually. Have a lie-down, Romana." The Doctor reached out and patted the stone closest to his left. "The sky is very blue, and everything smells so much more down here. The grass, the dew…"

Romana looked at the stone, which, though smooth-surfaced, still was a stone. "Let's compromise," she said. She gathered her flowing skirts and sank to the ground at an angle from the Doctor.

He watched her lazily. "What are you doing?"

She looked over her shoulder, decided she was not properly placed and shifted to the side.


"I'm compromising." She lay down on her back; and just as she had calculated, her head settled squarely on the Doctor's abdomen.

"Ah," he said.

Romana blanketed herself in the ends of the Doctor's scarf. She could feel the tiny waistcoat buttons against her scalp when she moved, and she could feel every breath he took, and hear every beat of his hearts.

A moment passed, then the Doctor twined his fingers into her hair.

The sky was brilliantly blue above them, spotted with nothing but a pair of soaring birds. The grass was quite damp, but that was of no significance to Romana, because everything smelled so much more this close. The grass, the dew…

"This is quite cosy," said the Doctor. "We should compromise more often."

"Yes, let's."