Fight or Flight ( Doctor Who Fanfiction )

King University

Note: I'm so sorry this took a thousand years. I had some trouble writing this one, but I think it turned out all right in the end. I hope you enjoy :)

"Mars? Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" I dropped a hot beverage in front of him. "Morning."

The Doctor smiled amicably and pulled his crossed ankles off the corner of his desk, leaning forward and folding his hands on a stack of papers. "Good morning, Mars."

I shook my iced coffee at him, and the plastic cup sent little droplets of condensation flying. "It might be, once I drink this."

He raised his eyebrows at me and eyed his own to-go cup with skepticism. He couldn't see what was inside, nor did the barista write what it was on the cup.

"Tea?" He asked, hopefully.

"Coffee."

"I don't like coffee."

"I know you don't. That's why I got you a decaffeinated vanilla latte with whipped cream. Kids' temp. It's an abomination, try it."

He pricked up at the challenge (and the promise of sugar), and took a hesitant sip. Eyes lighting up, he exclaimed, "Oh, wow!"

I lifted my chin proudly.

The Doctor looked over a couple of papers on his desk, glancing at me as I dropped my laptop bag in the nearest chair, right at the front of his lecture hall.

"What did you get?"

I took an idle sip. "Iced red eye."

He blinked, seeming to realize he was too ill-informed to continue the polite small talk.

"Black cold brew, with espresso," I elaborated.

He wrinkled his nose and opened his mouth, no doubt ready with an insult waited on his tongue.

"Yeah," I laughed, cutting him off, "That right there is why I didn't get you one. Drink your fancy milk."

He squinted at me and took a sip of his latte. The affection in his eyes was clear enough.

I paced the perimeter of the lecture hall as I did before each lecture, turning on the projector in the back and bathing the screen behind him in a stark white light.

We were a couple of weeks into this, and settled into a comfortable routine. While investigating the sketchy goings-on of a biology research professor at King University, Jane Jones, we fell into playing the roles of an adjunct philosophy professor and his jaded PhD student acting as his TA. We ran lectures instead of a professor who conveniently won the lottery fifteen days ago, and carried out investigative work under the cover of night.

At first, the Doctor reminded me constantly that I could leave at any time. He seemed worried time spent at the university my grandparents' money built would trigger me. But after some time, he let it be.

Now that the Doctor had officially dropped the subject of Anesse Crane, we got along fine. We didn't speak about my mother, either - my mother, who hadn't contacted me in weeks. I could only assume he'd relayed my message to her.

Commuting to the TARDIS around a block away from campus to strategize or sleep began to feel strangely normal. The Doctor held my hand when we walked together the way he normally did, fidgeting with my fingers when he was bored - habits that were frankly odd given our assigned characters - and didn't withhold any of his usual sweetness from me. Besides leaving his side of the mattress cold, he didn't act like there was anything wrong. I knew what it felt like to have his cold shoulder, and this wasn't it.