Lost In Time: A Doctor Who Fanfiction

Chapter 108 -Watch Out

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my friend, who has successfully graduated college with honors and put up with my antics through it all, including occasionally helping with my story. Thank you lots! 

"I'm telling you, I'm gravely injured. It was a terrible fall, I was lucky to have survived at all, really," John insisted, glancing up at Lyssa with wide, innocent eyes that she didn't believe for a second. "I should be excused for the rest of the day, light work only. I better stay here with you and Martha to rest. That way someone will be there to assist me if I need aid."

Martha snorted from her position curled up in a nearby chair. "Maybe if you'd been watching where you were going instead of gazing besottedly at a certain someone..." she muttered into her book, not looking at either of them.

Lyssa pressed her lips together, pretending she hadn't heard a word Martha had said. "You fell down two steps, not a flight of stairs," she told John with some amusement. "And you did hit your head, that I'll grant, but anyone with a head as hard as yours could likely charge a metal wall headfirst and be fine," she said dryly, though her hand was gentle as she carded through his hair to examine the minuscule cut he'd given himself. "I daresay you'll survive just fine," she announced, moving to pull away. "You're not even bleeding anymore."

His hand flew up to catch hers as it left his hair, curling around hers. "Now that's just rude," he complained with a pout. "Such cruelty to an invalid - and one who you swore to marry, at that. I'm hurt, Lyssa, I really am."

She bit back a smile. "If I behave with such cruelty, then perhaps I should withdraw from treating you - as a matter of kindness, of course," she explained, making a show of withdrawing her hand from his and stepping back out of reach of his grasp, ignoring his protests. "I'm sure Martha would be more than happy to take care of you - she does have more skill in this area than me, after all. Right, Martha?" she called to the older girl.

Martha rolled her eyes, though she didn't look up from her book. "Oh, absolutely. In fact, my stellar skills of healing tell me all the way over here that our dear Mr. Smith is going to be just fine." She finally glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Though if you want me to go all the way over there just to tell you that, I can. I may also charge more for the effort though."

"Done," Lyssa promised. "Twice what you're making now."

"Perfect," Martha agreed promptly with a nod. "I'll have my people meet with your people to finalize the details."

"Love, Martha's not making anything by being here," John interrupted, furrowing his brow in puzzlement. "She's here as a favor to us. She turned down our offers of payment, remember?"

Lyssa turned back to the man with a sheepish smile. "Right. Yes. That was... an inside joke." She paused. "Anyway, I think you're fine. More than ready to go back to work this morning."

He sighed forlornly. "I was afraid you'd say that. My class has essays due today, which means I have to look over them all." He winced. "Let's just say I don't see writing being a career for most of them in the future. Their talents lie in... other directions."

Lyssa shrugged. "They're young, yet. Give them time. I know I wasn't very good at writing early on. I hated it. Wanted nothing to do with it. It took an excellent teacher who took their time with me to get me to want to put in my own effort and do better."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not already an excellent teacher who's instilling a love for writing in my class?"

She blinked at him wide-eyed. "I didn't say anything like that. You must be hearing things. Perhaps you got a concussion after all."