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| Fifth Doctor | |
Tiny Dancer by warinbabylon [Reviews - 6]  | |
“Quite right, Nyssa.”
Familiar rumbled words. His voice had always been baritone, she decided. When she had been apart, she swore he was a bass, but memory, she decided, colored things differently. She had assumed he was taller too.
The tone was familiar to her, however deep or not so deep it was. She had heard it often in the console room of old: it was the tone that he seemed to employ only with his young protégé. It was a tone of a teacher with his favored pupil, or a father with his excelled offspring. Indeed, Tegan thought suddenly, dependant on lighting and situation it could have been the tone of a bookish scholar with his lover.
Either way, it spoke of comfortable conversation, familiarity and affection.
She had no way of knowing how long they had traveled without her. There was a deeper friendship there. And knowing the life they led; she could hardly begrudge them. But it didn’t stop her from feeling left out of the campfire circle as it were.
She had come back aboard the TARDIS- made a conscious decision to go back to this life. She had missed it, despite the complaining she had done when she was with them. She wanted to travel to see the Universe; she had wanted to be with her friends again.
She cared for them both, these dear friends of hers, and was happy with whatever they had found for themselves. But she wanted a celebration of sorts: dancing and gaiety…laughter. She wanted to celebrate that she was back; neither the Doctor nor Nyssa, in their own way, were ones for a party.
But this…this was the party she had been looking for….
These mercenaries and miners were celebrating…being alive, being well and being able to go back to their families and friends. This was what she wanted to be a part of…this was why she wanted to travel…in part.
With a laugh, she was caught up in one of the soldier’s arms and swirled into the middle of the makeshift celebration. Surprisingly, Tegan thought, the man wasn’t half bad and was light on his feet.
Nyssa nodded in response to what the Doctor had said and shifted her weight. She felt the happiness in the air around her. It almost made her giddy; she felt a bubble of laughter push up in her throat.
But Tegan’s laughter erupted instead and sounded like music to her friend’s ears.
“She’s happy,” Nyssa said suddenly.
“Hmm? I suppose,” the Doctor said. His words sounded borderline interested, but to Nyssa there was something in the way he sat…in the way that he surveyed the group. His eyes flickered from one group to another and finally alighted on Tegan. She was dancing and laughing, happy in a way they had never seen her.
Tegan swirled by on the arm of a tall soldier, her head thrown back in laughter. As she came out of one twirl, she was pulled into another embrace and swirled away. Nyssa smiled at her friend and glanced up at the Doctor. The edge wrinkles about the Doctor’s eyes had eased; the darkness in his eyes was a lighter blue. He had a slight smile on his lips. With a matching smile, Nyssa nodded to the group. “She feels what they do…elemental happiness.”
“At just being alive,” the Doctor agreed, his gaze centered in the middle distance.
“It’s unlike Traken dance,” Nyssa replied.
“No, human dance is less structured and more in the moment, more…emotional.” The Doctor’s smile widened and his eyes widened as well. “I say it fits Tegan’s temperament.”
“Have you danced? Danced like that.”
The Doctor nodded quickly. “Not often, Nyssa, and only when there is a reason, a…celebration.”
Nyssa nodded and her curls bounced on her shoulders. She thought for a moment, the act of introspection clearly painted on her delicate features. Then she turned her serious gray-blue eyes to the Doctor and addressed him in a tone that he hadn’t heard recently: “And what more is there to celebrate, Doctor, than being alive?”
**
What more indeed? Logic came from wisdom, but truth came from the mouth of babes. If he didn’t believe that, then Nyssa’s statement clarified the situation. He smiled in resignation and admiration at his young companion; she very much had a point. What was the purpose in celebrating anything if you didn’t first celebrate being alive and well and in good company?
“Very true, Nyssa,” he agreed.
“You love life, don’t you?”
“I do.” The Doctor smiled.
“And you don’t celebrate it?” Nyssa pressed. “You don’t feel the need to?”
The Doctor sighed and turned his gaze to the group once more.
**
“Cripes,” Tegan gasped as she was spun around as the music was switched into a jig of sorts. “You boys have got the lightest feet around, that’s for sure. You’ll wear a girl out.”
She was spun away from one of the tall mercenaries and was caught in another’s arm. The tempo was quick and she immediately laid her hand on the shoulder of the next man that had swept her up into the dance. “We need to have another woman around for you boys; my feet will fall off.”
“Well, at least they aren’t stepped on…”
“Doc.” Tegan frowned up at the man in whose arms she was resting. He nearly laughed at the look of surprise on her face. “Hell’s teeth…what are you doing?”
“Dancing.” He smiled at her and twirled her around as the music increased in tempo. He glanced at the men as they twirled past and stepped quicker. His arms didn’t release her to the next man in line, but continued to dance with Tegan to the fast jig. In a moment, she was laughing again and he found the musical quality of it endearing.
“You never dance.” Tegan reminded him softly. “You haven’t danced, ever…not with us…”
“There’s always a first time, isn’t there, hmm?” He tucked his chin a little to stare at her. “I didn’t think this was cause for complaints.”
“I’m not complaining,” she laughed. “Believe it or not…I’m just confused.”
He tightened his arm as they passed another group of men. Tegan gave a cursory glance at the other males but didn’t pull away. The pace was quick and for several minutes, they didn’t speak. It was a flurry of gaiety; the claps of those around them filled the air with a beat that rivaled that of the music. Soon, the music built to a crescendo and then suddenly died off into silence. Tegan laughed as they stilled, laughed as she hadn’t ever in his presence, laughed as though life were fresh, new and enjoyable. “Rabbits, I never expected you to dance,” she breathed in between giggles.
“I only do it where there is something to celebrate.” He replied quietly. He took a deep breath.
“What have you got to celebrate, Doc?” She laughed and drew away from him. He lifted an eyebrow in response. Where they stood in the underground room had less light than the rest of the place. “Another place where we avoided death?”
“Yes, well…it’s high time we celebrated that, don’t you think?” He smiled widely. Then he sobered a little and tilted his face down a little to look her in the eyes. “And…that the TARDIS is just a bit less quiet now…”
Tegan frowned a little, but soon she was taken upon another man’s arm when the music started again. The Doctor slipped his hands into his pockets and straightened his shoulders. These men were celebrating life and breath and families; he had been celebrating friends and life and breath. Tegan simply danced to dance, to celebrate only to celebrate. That was her way: to burn brightly despite the oxygen or the danger in expending the fuel. She lived to live, something he appreciated and envied. Despite the anger she had for situations, despite the upset and tears and shouting, there was the flip side of the coin in her as well. There was the passion for life, all life, the ability to smile and laugh freely when the spirit moved her and compassion for all those around her that came out when she least wanted it to. She couldn’t have one half of the coin without the other.
He had missed that flame, that duplicity, that…passion. He had told the truth when he had told her the TARDIS had been quiet. He had missed that and it was as much a celebration with these people as it was for him to have Tegan back aboard the TARDIS.
The Doctor watched as Tegan was twirled away from him. She was dancing among the flames, with the flames. He would never have, couldn’t achieve what humans did in their short lives, and live with that much passion. But he could celebrate through her, with her, her ability to simply…feel.
With a sigh, he lowered his head and glanced over at Nyssa, but she too was gone. Up in the arms of a dancer, he found as he looked for her. Learning to feel the flame, he decided. He smiled and shook his head.
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