Meeting Him Again

Hello

I had Harriet back. I had no complaints. We were sleeping in the same bed again; we even cooked together. Harriet was a Time Lord of extreme passion and always carried that through. Harold had the garden and Harriet had the kitchen. She'd come swooping in and reorganised the whole thing, saying that the new layout was "optimal" and the previous organisational modes were "older than my gran, who's nice and comfy in her wooden onesie - okay, so there's some Irish in this one".

The best part was the analogies.

"You see, babe," she'd said once, arms wrapped around my waist as we slow danced to the soft music pulsing through the speakers she'd insisted upon, "when a Time Lord regenerates, their partner is in the position I would imagine one is in when they are forced to chose between their mother's and father's soups. You love them both, but for different reasons, and you don't want to have to pick one or the other for fear of insulting someone."

"I like all of your soups," I murmmered into her neck.

Harriet chuckled. "You're exhausted; get some sleep."

I groaned, not wanting to leave her side, but aware that she was right. It had been a long day, and I was getting kind of old. She swept me up into her arms, carrying me up the stairs with one arm under my knees and the other supporting my shoulders, allowing my head to fall on her collarbone. Or - around that kind of area. I was too high on sleep to be sure, not matter how much her presence cut through the haze. So disoriented was I that I didn't recall telling Harriet that I didn't want her to leave. Perhaps I never did. Nevertheless, she lay me gently under the covers of our bed and climbed in next to me.

I grabbed a handful of her shirt and curled into her as she lay on her side facing me.

"Never leave me," I spluttered through my tardy state.

I was out cold before Harriet could form a reply.

"We should renew our vows."

The statement came flying at my hindered mind like a rock from a slingshot and ploughed down any chances of a reasonable response like a cannonball to a wall. It wasn't like I resented the idea, it just wasn't a notion that I'd expected to be affronted with on a Thursday morning over a bowl of Corn Flakes (once a solar rotation my wife and myself did an "Earth Day". That Doctor character had come back into the news again recently and we were trying to understand his liking of that one planet. He'd been pretty successful in his life, so he must be doing something right - worth a shot). I swallowed and dropped the small bowl on a stick - spoons, that's the bitch - back into the bowl.

"You look positively terrified of the idea," Harriet said teasingly, leaning across the table with her elbows on the wood. She was slowly becoming more confident in herself and the loose shirt she wore as pajamas fell off one shoulder, exposing toned muscle and collarbone. It was beginning to torture me slightly, in complete honesty; that seemed reasonable, however, as she was married to me.

"We haven't... Kissed yet." I frowned, tearing my eyes away from the exposed flesh of the specimen of beauty sat leaning into me.

"What, you want a good snog?"

I shifted in my chair slightly, smiling timidly. It was like being a teenager all over again. "Not necessarily. I suppose my immediate reaction was a couple skipped steps, is all."

"A couple skipped steps? We were talking about plain kissing a minute ago, but the word couple suggests you have... Other... Things in mind." Harriet waggled her eyebrows suggestively at me.

I threw a teatowel at her, which landed exactly on her head.

"Oi!" she managed to squeeze out between her laughing. "Could've used that for, like, the dishes or something."

"Hm."

"We're married, I think I'm allowed to check you out once in a while. I haven't seen you with these eyes much. Haven't felt your skin on this version of mine enough yet."

"That's all very sweet and slightly creepy - if you wanna skin me and hug the hollowed out suit, you can, but I think the High Council would want a word - but what's it's got to do with renewed vows?"

Harriet shrugged and folded the teatowel into a neat square before laying it next to her bowl. "I figure this me is traditional. Or something."

"Celibacy before marriage isn't exactly a Time Lord thing. Traditional to whom?"

"Earth Day. Traditional to humans. Hey, do you wanna hop in the TARDIS and watch a bunch of Medieval peasants get disowned by the church for being unmarried and infected with syphilis?"

"Surprisingly not, no. Thank you for the offer. Maybe some other time."

"Your loss," Harriet replied, shrugging. The smile that spread from one side of her face to the other and brightened her eyes suddenly fell off. I took her hand in mine across the table, thrown off.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked quietly.

"I'm cool," Harriet responded quickly. "I say 'cool' now." That smile cracked across her face again. "Should a book something for our vows?"

"Sure."