Ties Between Freedom and Love

✦29✦

Chapter Twenty-Nine
Talking Or Dancing

*---*---*---*---*---*

Minutes passed, maybe even an hour, and Rose had fallen asleep in the corner of the storage room while Emma reclined in the wheelchair and wheeled herself back and forth as she watched the Doctor work his sonic screwdriver on the window bars.

"What're you doing?"

"Trying to set up a resonation pattern in the concrete," he replied. "Loosen the bars."

Emma smiled, "You don't think he's coming back, do you?"

"Wouldn't bet my life."

She wheeled herself forward slightly, "Why don't you trust him?"

"Why do you?" he countered.

"Thinks he saved my life," Emma shrugged. "Going by guy standards that's up there with flossing," she commented then sighed. She hesitated for a second, "I trust him because he's like you. Except with dating and dancing," she teased a smile on her face.

He looked back at her, rolling his eyes.

"What?"

"You just assume, I'm. . ." he went still.

"What?" she pressed on, grinning.

"You just assume I don't dance."

"What?" Emma asked, wheeling herself back and forth as she stared at him. "Are you telling me, you do dance?"

"Nine hundred years old, me," the Doctor reminded her. "I've been around a bit. I think you can assume at some point I've danced."

"You?" she laughed.

"Problem?"

"Doesn't the universe implode or something if you dance?" she joked.

"Well, I've got the moves but I wouldn't want to boast," he sighed, and she stood up pushing the wheelchair out of the way and turning up the radio. She walked back up to him and held her hand out.

"You've got the moves?" she asked, grinning. "Show me your moves."

He looked back at her and then quickly returned his eyes to the window, "Em, I'm trying to resonate concrete."

"Jack will be back," she reassured. "He'll get us out, come on. The world doesn't end because the Doctor dances."

He clicked his screwdriver off and stuffed it back in his pocket as he jumped down in front of her. He took her hands with a concerned look on his face. "Barrage balloon?" he asked.

"What?"

"You were hanging from a barrage balloon," he said, checking her hands for even the smallest of injuries.

"Oh, yeah," she laughed. "About two minutes after you left me. Thousands of feet above London, in the middle of a German air raid, Union Jack all over my chest. Remind me never to borrow Rose's clothes again."

"I've traveled with a lot of people," the Doctor said, looking at her. "But you're setting new records for jeopardy friendly."

He carried on checking her hands and she raised an eyebrow, "Is this you dancing. I've got notes," she teased.

"Hanging from a rope thousands of feet above London," he ran his fingers over the palm of her hand making her shiver and swallow hard. "Not a cut, not a bruise," he smiled, "you healed."

"Actually, no," Emma shook her head. "Captain Jack had to fix me up. His light beam that caught me was made of the same stuff as Angel blades, it temporarily dampened my powers."