The Time Lord's Apprentice

The Crimson Horror

"No," Peyton says firmly, folding her arms.

"Peyton!" The Doctor gesticulates. "It's a great idea!"

"Uh, no. No, it's not," Peyton says, folding her arms and leaning back against the bank of Tardis controls by the railing. "I'm not doing it."

"Can you just listen to me?" The Doctor sighs, walking around the console to her. "She picks a place, I drop you both there and you two can finally get to know eachother."

"And what if something happens?" Peyton reasons with an eye roll. "I don't want to be responsible for her life."

"So we'll put you on Earth!" The Doctor twirls back around the console. "A safe year, there's plenty of those."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Oh, I'll stay here! I'll throw the Tardis up into orbit and then you give me a call when you're best friends and I'll come back down and get you."

Peyton glares at him across the flight deck. "Why are trying so hard to get me to like her?"

"Why aren't you trying at all?!" He fires back, slamming his hands down on the console.

Peyton doesn't say anything, looking away with a huff. She knows she doesn't have a concrete answer, or at least not one that doesn't sound slightly childish.

"It would mean a lot to me for you to get along," the Doctor says softly, his voice thick with regret for shouting at her. "She really wants you both to get along as much as I do. And I think you're only pushing her away cause you're scared to leave yourself open to lose anyone else."

Peyton freezes, not expecting him to say anything like that. The two have a history of being indirect with one another, especially regarding such sensitive matters as this. She looks up at him and realises how tired he looks. Those hazel eyes are dark and heavy, the weight of many years and so much more loss than Peyton could fathom. Her arms drop from her chest and she tries to form something to say, an arguement or anything else.

The Doctor takes a long breath. "I think it would really help you to let your fear go, and just, try."

"Okay," Peyton concedes with a fragile voice. "I'll try to be less defensive around her. I can't promise you I'm going to be her best friend."

"Thank you," he walks around toward Peyton again. "I know it's hard, but you have to let yourself be vulnerable with her, for yourself."

Peyton bites her lip, uncomfortable at the Doctor's words. Deep down she knows he's right, because when isn't he? But the wounds in her soul still ache and burn. No matter what he says is going to fix that. Maybe she's just stubborn, maybe she's just argumentative, but Peyton sighs before looking up to the Doctor. "Okay."

Without warning, the Doctor's long arms wrap around her shoulders and hold her close. Reluctantly, she brings her own arms up to the Doctor's back and steadies herself. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to have other friends than just you."

The Doctor pulls away with a concerned frown.

"No, it was a joke," Peyton reassures him with a soft chuckle. "I have work friends, but they're not you, you know?" She punches him lightly in the bicep.

"Good," he smiles. "And it will do you good to have a boring, relaxing break, you know. Keep your stress low."

"What's wrong with my stress level? I'm not stressed," Peyton frowns at him.

"I, er, uh..." the Doctor splutters, evidently he had not meant to add that last part. "You just seem a little... tense. Lately."

Peyton's mind rolls back to the Russian submarine, her chat with the empath, and one rather intense game of chess with Benjamin Franklin.