All Is Fair |:| A Doctor Who Fanfiction |:|

All Is Fair |:| A Doctor Who Fanfiction Part III |:|

/:/ Third installment to my Doctor Who fanfic! Please rate and enjoy! ♥ /:/

The Doctor was down at the TARDIS's dash, making some necessary repairs, while Serenity was sleeping upstairs. He was alone with his thoughts, and nuts and bolts and other pieces of hardware he wasn't very familiar with. He was knelt on the floor, assessing the work that needed to be done.

He let his mind wander as he worked—he knew there was more that Serenity hadn't told him, but who was he to judge? He hardly ever told anyone anything about any part of his life. He wasn't about to open up to someone else, but there was something about her that made him want to. Perhaps the fact that they shared tragedy in common, and also perhaps because she wasn't like the others: she never pried, she knew of what she spoke, it was as if he'd almost met his match—almost.

He smirked to himself; he found his curiosity about her and her past rising as he thought of all this. But, he went back to his work, burying himself under the grated floor, fussing with wires and other pieces of machinery.

He stopped.

What was that noise?

He jumped up from his position and back with his feet on the floor. He listened closer. It was coming from Serenity's room. He made his way over, as he got closer, it got clearer: the poor dear was having a nightmare—she was gasping and crying, muttering cried for help.

He knocked on her door: no answer. He proceeded to open it, finding her writhing on the bed. He walked over, shaking her awake. “Serenity,” he whispered. “Serenity!”

She gasped awake, in a cold sweat. She looked at the Doctor, and gasped again.

“It's alright, you're alright. You were having a nightmare, so I woke you up,” he explained.

She nodded, faintly. “Th—Thank you...” she whispered, breathlessly. She sat up, putting her head in her hands, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“I know what that feels like,” he started. “And I know I've wished someone was here to wake me up,” he nudged. “So I figured I'd take the chance of getting slapped,” he grinned.

She looked up at him, lightly laughing. “Thank you...” she proceeded to wipe away the remaining sweat and tears. “I'm sorry...I didn't mean to be trouble,” she shook her head.

“No! You're not trouble!” He shook his head, sitting on the edge of her bed. “Not at all...”

She looked back up and smiled. “Do you often have nightmares?” she asked.

“I used to, all the time,” he admitted. “Though, they've reduced a bit; but I still have them...”

She nodded. “Same...” She looked him over—he was still fully dressed in his suit. “You're still up?”

He looked down at what he was wearing. “Oh, yes...I had to make some repairs on the TARDIS,” he smiled. “Time Lords don't need much sleep, you know. We don't have much of an internal clock.”

Serenity laughed. “I guess not. Mind if I join you downstairs?”

“Of course not! Come on, then!” he said, taking her hand.

He walked her downstairs, and picked up his work again.

“Do you mind if I get myself a cup of tea?” she asked.

“Go right ahead. The kitchen's down the hallway, second right, first door on your left, through the hallway to the right and then through the second door on the right.”

She smiled. “Thank you. Would you like some?”

He looked back up. “I would, yes.”

She nodded and headed in the direction he pointed her, coming back a few minutes later with two cups of tea. She walked over to the Doctor, who was underneath the floor boards again. She tapped his head with her foot, getting his attention.

He looked up. “Oh! Right.” He hoisted himself back on top of the floorboard, taking the cup of tea from her hand.

Serenity sat next to him, sipping her tea. “So, how are the repairs coming along?”

He nodded his head back and forth. “It'll take time,” he smiled, taking a sip of tea. He stopped—surprised—and looked down at the cup, then took another sip, then looked back at the cup.

“Are you alright?” Serenity asked.

“Yes...I haven't had tea this good since I was on Gallifrey,” he continued drinking it, curiously.

“I take that as a compliment?” she smiled, sipping hers as well. “I love my tea this way,” she added.

He swallowed, nodding. “The only way!” he laughed, somewhat nervously. He looked back down at the cup, and paused before taking another drink. “There's a lot you're not telling me.”

“Bold words from someone like yourself,” Serenity shot back.

He shrugged. “I suppose, but I feel like it's something I should know.”

“I bet a lot of your companions say that to you, as well.” She looked over at the Doctor, who was now staring at her sternly. “I hold to the belief that we are all entitled to some secrets—most of the time because one: they're too painful to speak of, or two: because of fear. Both fear based; just one is fear of internal pain, the other, external: people ridiculing, not understand, making your pain even worse—even when they mean well. For many years I've hid many secrets, even from people I've trusted with my life—such as yourself. But internal things are not as simple to deal with as a corrupt time-vortex,” she nudged with a half smile. “Surely you know this better than anyone,” she looked back at her teacup, taking her final drink. She looked back at the Doctor, who seemed to be looking at something nonexistent—pondering. “I think I'll get more sleep,” she said, getting back up. “May I take your cup?” She offered, extending her hand.

He was woken out of his thoughts, and looked up at her. “Oh, no, thank you. I'm not quite finished.”

“Alright then. Good night, Doctor. Thank you for waking me up, and for the cup of tea,” she said.

“Yes, of course,” he was still lost in thought.

Serenity walked off, and back to the room where she was staying. Her secrets were darker than she wanted to admit—her mission in the TARDIS wasn't over yet, and it wouldn't be for quite a while...