Work Text:
Helen was at a complete loss. Two days into a surprise round of “routine vortex mapping” from the Doctor, she was beginning to feel stir-crazy. Being confined to the TARDIS wasn't usually so dull, but Liv and the Doctor had insisted on exploring some of the less familiar hallways, leaving Helen to her regular haunts. She thought she'd never tire of the TARDIS’ library, but books never were a substitute for company, least of all the friends she had now. Thus, she resolved to find the others, trusting the halls to guide her along their path.
It wasn't long into her wandering before she caught a whiff of something; slightly acrid, earthy, and not entirely unfamiliar, albeit not one she could place. Whatever it was, she suspected the Doctor was involved, with Liv likely in tow.
She heard their muffled voices as she rounded a corner, following her ears and nose to an open doorway, shielded by a curtain of beads lit up from within. The Doctor's voice came through clearly; “That's it, now hold your breath once it's in. Holding it makes it more effective.”
Helen parted the curtain, peering into the room beyond. It seemed remarkably mundane; a large, open lounge, complete with a bar. In a lowered section of the floor, however, sat the Doctor and Liv, the latter holding a suspiciously-shaped glass device. Helen approached the two. “There you two are,” she spoke, “I'm alone for nearly 72 hours, and when I finally come looking, you're lounging in a conversation pit, of all things.”
The Doctor turned to greet her. ‘Helen! How lovely. We were just saying you should visit us more often. Right, Liv?” Liv didn't reply. The Doctor's eyes were rimmed with red.
Helen could sense something was off. She looked at the table between the two. A small jar, full of ground herbs, and what seemed to be a cigarette lighter. Suddenly, it all became obvious. “Oh my word, are you two smoking grass?!”
“Heleeeen” Liv said, finally acknowledging her arrival. “Heeeey. I'm so glad you found us, I missed you.”
Helen nearly did a double-take. “Well, hello, Liv. I'm glad I found you both, too.” She elected not to question Liv's newfound friendliness, refocusing on the Doctor. “Doctor, this is completely irresponsible! Doesn't this qualify as impaired driving or something?”
“Liv, please, I'm not driving right now,” the Doctor said, lazily waving his hand, “the TARDIS is anchored in the Vortex, and there's nary a physical nor metaphorical storm on the horizon. We're just as safe as if we'd gone to sleep, anyway.”
Helen closed her eyes, gently massaging her temples. “Oh, you're even more impossible than usual. Liv, how did you let him talk you into this?”
Liv cocked an eyebrow. “Whaddaya mean? We found the Doctor's stash while we were exploring.” She paused, passing the glass pipe back to the Doctor. “I figured it's as good as anything to pass the time.” She smiled in a way totally unlike Liv. “Come on, give it a try. The Doc said this stuff was all over Earth in your era!”
Helen rolled her eyes. She was beginning to regret her little quest, now. “Perhaps it was, but I certainly never tried it.” A small lie, she thought, But it was only that one time with Agnes at university.
“Now, Liv, don't engage in peer pressure,” the Doctor chimed in. “Helen's capable, she can make her own judgements.” He turned to Helen once more. “Helen, I can promise you I'll sober up very quickly in the event of danger. For now, however, I ask that you trust in my experience.”
Helen sighed. “Your experience as a time lord, or as a stoner?”
The Doctor smiled. “See, exactly! I'm glad you understand.”
Despite her instincts, Helen knew it would be right to stay. At the very least, these two needed a chaperone. “Alright, if you say so. But I'm afraid I'll have to respectfully decline to partake.” Thus, she stepped down into the conversation pit, sitting between Liv and the Doctor. “I feel safer with you two than alone, regardless.”
Liv gently touched Helen's hand. “I feel safer when you're around too, Helen.” Her eyes were wide, flecks of gold visible within deep blue.
Helen held her tongue. Poor girl, she thought, she doesn't even know what she's saying.
Helen did her best to babysit the two for the next hour. She never thought she'd see the Doctor eat before, but the drugs awakened in him an appetite Helen didn't expect. She dutifully assisted him when he made a request to visit the pantry, thankfully not a far trek. They returned through the bead curtain, arms filled with junk food, to find Liv lighting up another bowl. “Liv, honestly,” Helen chided, “shouldn't you slow down?”
Liv inhaled steadily for a moment, not replying. She moved deliberately, finishing with a smooth exhale, the cloud billowing and dissipating in front of her. “Helen, it's no different than drinking.”
The Doctor sat down, depositing his snacks in a heap. “ Yuck ,” he spat, “not true! It's much better than alcohol; and I've got a very discerning palate.”
Liv rolled her eyes, passing the pipe to the waiting Doctor. “Alright, sure. But it's also not much different from caffeine, in terms of your health.” Liv turned to Helen. “Trust me. Med-tech, remember?” she said, pointing a thumb at herself.
Helen sat, dropping the food she had onto the pile. “I…don't have the knowledge to dispute that.” She looked at the jar, examining the leaves held within. Such a strange way to relax, though. She tried again to forget just how relaxing it had been, that one summer night years ago. “I'm still surprised you'd want to use it, yourself.”
Liv scoffed lightly. “Eh, I've seen it used on Kaldor. Caught my sister smoking in her bedroom when we were 16.” She looked wistful. “I let her slide. All she had to do was fold my laundry that week.” A cheeky smirk came to her face.
Helen felt herself blush. “Yes, well,” she blurted, “children can make mistakes.” She felt defensive, for some reason.
The Doctor exhaled. “Helen, are you feeling warm? I can turn on the fan, if you like.” He fumbled in his pockets, first the pants he was wearing, then the vest he'd discarded on the floor. Eventually, he managed to find his sonic. “I think the remote function should still…” he muttered; then, with a switch and a sonic whir, the ceiling fan began spinning.
Helen tried to act like her issue had been solved. “Yes, thank you, Doctor.” She shifted in her seat, her movements belying her claim of comfort. “I'm sure that was it.”
Liv narrowed her eyes. “Y'know…” she spoke, “It's a little dry just sitting around here talking, eh? What if we made things more exciting.” She leaned in, conspiratorially; “How about truth or dare?”
The Doctor swallowed a mouthful of crisps. “Excellent idea, Liv! Helen, how about it?” He smiled again, eyes almost as big as Liv’s; that, if nothing else, was familiar.
“How about, er…” Helen wracked her mind. She wanted to placate the two, but worried the game was too open-ended. “...‘Shag, Marry, Kill’, I think it was called?” That one would be easier to fabricate an answer for.
Liv smirked. “Alright, Helen; your choices are…” she trailed off, squinting slightly as she weighed her options. “Julie Andrews, Professor Song, or my sister, Tula?”
“Dare!” Helen blurted. “I changed my mind, I choose dare.”
The Doctor looked up from sorting his candy, befuddled. “Professor Song? She had a certain allure, but a tad overbearing.” He blinked, refocusing on Helen. “Wait, you chose dare? Oh! I've got one.” He fished around in the pile for a moment, before eventually checking his pockets and finding his quarry. “Now, I understand if you're not particularly interested in damaging your lungs, but I remembered to grab these.” He set a sealed bag of jelly candies on the table; the label displayed some alien terms, but its meaning was clear. “If you want to try, one will probably be enough for your first time.”
“Ooh, yeah, that's it!” Liv chimed in. “Come on, don't be scared to live a little. Where's the Helen I know?”
There it was. Helen could never say no to that. Not when she saw those big blue eyes pleading at her. “Oh, damn it all.” She swiped the bag from the table, tearing it open and grabbing two of the candies. “There, see?” She popped them into her mouth, strawberry and blackcurrant mixing in a swirl of flavor. “Now you can never say I'm not one to let loose.” She sat back on the cushions, feeling smug.
Liv gave a whoop in celebration. The Doctor took the package back from Helen's hands. “Well done, Helen! Very adventurous, too. You're going to be feeling very relaxed in a little while.” He took a couple for himself, passing the bag to Liv. “It'll be a couple hours before it clears your system, so your only responsibility is to sit tight and enjoy yourself.”
Helen let her neck relax, her head rolling back as her gaze moved to the ceiling. She hoped she wasn't in over her head. “Alright, then…Doctor.”
He blinked. “Me? Yes?”
“Yes, you!” she laughed, “Truth or Dare? I did mine, you're on deck.”
Realization dawned on him. “Oh, yes! Truth, then. But-” he held up a hand, “-no privileged information about the future, as usual. Just the personal stuff.”
Helen rolled her eyes. “Fine. I've got one that's been bothering me.” She turned toward him. “Do you have any children?”
The Doctor grinned sheepishly. “Well, that's a bit complicated, but I'll try to explain…”
Helen smacked her lips. It wasn't an isolated incident, either; it seemed to be part of a pattern. The strangest thing she observed, however, was that she felt entirely unmotivated to do anything about it. She lay on the cushions, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun. She was absolutely certain that she'd become intoxicated, but couldn't remember quite when it started. She was equally certain that this was not the same as being drunk. It was softer, gentler, though no less overwhelming; like the tide, slowly taking her away.
The Doctor and Liv had pulled out some old LPs, digging through to find the “classics”, by the Doctor's reckoning. He'd said something about helping Helen “fill in the gaps”, something she didn't think would be very easy at the moment. “Oh, this one is perfect,” the Doctor declared, “1967, only a few years after you left!” Gently, he set the vinyl on the turntable, hopping back to his seat as it began.
The sound was tinny, just like the family phonograph in Helen's childhood home. The song was gentle, the soft ringing of xylophone keys and gravelly vocals surrounding her thoughts like a blanket. She propped herself up. “Whose turn is it?” she asked. After a second, she asked, “And are we still playing?”
Liv gave Helen a pat on the shoulder. “We stopped awhile ago. Just sit and enjoy the music, you don't need to worry.” She had rolled a joint sometime during their search through the records. With it resting between her lips, she flicked the lighter, pulling deep. She didn't move her hand from Helen, keeping her close with one arm around her shoulder.
Helen giggled, without thinking. She felt immense comfort from Liv's presence, in spite of her earlier concerns. Those had washed away, along with other worries, in the tide of her mind, relegated to some irrelevant place outside the current moment. Liv's words of reassurance kept her there, let her be captivated by the once-simple surroundings. “I'm starting to understand why you two were having so much fun,” she admitted, breathlessly. “It's been quite a while since I've felt like this.”
“Oh, that's terrific, Helen!” The Doctor hopped into the pit, landing on a pile of cushions. “This is just what I was hoping for, you see, relaxation, a real bonding experience! You know, this is just like the time Romana and I spent a weekend in Scythia as a guest of the Enaree-”
Liv broke the Doctor's verbal stride by placing the joint between his extended fingers. “Careful with the rambling, Doc. You'll give the poor girl the spins.”
The Doctor took a long drag, exhaling through his nose. “Right you are, Liv, ever the good shepherd.” He looked at Helen, his gaze somehow hard for her to hold. “She was hoping you'd stumble by, Helen. I definitely agreed it would be a worthwhile experience, so it's lovely how things all worked out.”
Liv blushed, nicking the joint while the Doctor wasn't looking. “Yeah, well, we could all stand to relax a little. If every destination of ours is going to try and kill us, we can make up for it here, in the TARDIS.”
Liv's words rang true to Helen's mind, which was still doing its best to put all of her thoughts in order. “Thank you so much for this,” she slurred, “you've made this very…nice, Liv.” Without the slightest pretense, Helen shuffled her way onto her side, sprawling herself across the cushions, and laying her head down onto Liv's lap.
She was sure Liv wouldn't mind, of course; she could have sworn the two of them had been close like this before. Perhaps not in their regular day-to-day, but in quiet moments of rest like this…
No, wait, Helen managed, that's not right. I thought about doing this, but…oh dear, oh dear. She wondered if she should move, if she'd somehow breached propriety, or if Liv had even noticed. Do the rules of physical affection change when you're high?
As if to answer all of Helen's unspoken questions, Liv reached down and stroked Helen's hair with her free hand. “That's a good girl,” she purred, “just take it easy.”
Liv passed the joint again. “Say, Doctor,” she asked, “could you get us some more crisps? The Venusian Jalapeño flavor really hit the spot.”
The Doctor gave Liv a wry smile. “Very well, I'll leave you two to it for now.” He stood, placing the joint between his lips and strolling out, the beaded doorway tinkling behind him. “I'll be back before you can say ‘tetrahydrocannabinol’.”
As the Doctor left, Helen rolled over, repositioning her gaze to stare up at Liv. Looking up from below, the ceiling lights shone around her head, giving her, in Helen's estimation, a positively angelic character.
“I'm really glad you gave this a chance, Helen.” Liv smiled down at her, blue eyes wide and twinkling once again. “I was happy to hang out with the Doctor, but I always prefer having you around.”
Helen felt her stomach flip. “Always?” she asked, daring to take Liv at her word.
“Of course,” Liv giggled, “are you kidding? You're the best.”
Helen didn't know what made her do it, then. Something about the moment; the music echoing in the open room, the soft feeling in her head, or the light scattering through Liv's hair. Perhaps she was simply struck by the unmitigated certainty that it was the right thing to do. She pulled Liv down by the collar, and kissed her.
Liv leaned into her, surprised but eager to reply in kind. She didn't let up on caressing Helen while they kissed, stroking her hair, cupping her cheek. “Y'know,” she breathed, pulling back for a second. “You didn't have to get me high to do this, Helen.”
Helen couldn't help it, she laughed. “Oh, that's rich! You've only dreamed of having me like this, I'll bet.” Pure projection, of course, but she was beginning to suspect the two of them had a shared goal, of sorts.
Liv's running fingers found purchase at the nape of Helen's neck, scratching gently at her roots. Helen gasped, a wave of satisfaction jolting through her spine. “Ooh, I felt that one,” Liv taunted. “I never dreamed you'd like getting your hair played with this much.”
“Yes, god ,” Helen gasped, pleadingly. If she had any shame, it was dripping out her ears and onto the floor. It occurred to her that Liv might use this information against her in the future. Somehow, though, she didn't mind.
Suddenly, Liv stopped, their gazes meeting as she refocused. “Hey, er, if you don't…is this what you want? Maybe I shouldn't, while you're like this-”
Helen interrupted, kissing her again. “This is what I need . Save what I want for another time.”
The two gradually entangled their forms together on the couch, folding inward as they grew ever closer. When the Doctor eventually returned, he found them lazily petting each other, their passion given way back to comfort and ease.
“So, Helen,” he asked as he flopped his way onto the cushions, “would you say you've enjoyed this little experience?”
Helen breathed deep, relaxation pouring over her. She recalled the Doctor's words from earlier; she had, indeed, managed to sit tight, and was regaining some amount of clarity. “I'd say so,” she sighed, “though you'll forgive me for reminding you that this is a luxury we don't always have time to indulge in.”
“There's the old Helen,” Liv said, “glad to have you back.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You'll forgive me for reminding you that we have a time machine. We could do this for a week straight and still make it home for breakfast.”
Helen's stomach growled. “Ooh, I could go for breakfast right now…”
A bag of crisps landed in her lap, courtesy of the Doctor. “Well, that's the closest you're getting, unless you want to find that old diner the TARDIS made for me, once.”
“A diner? Like, fully staffed and all?” Liv weighed the possibility, however ridiculous it sounded. “It's not a bender if you're not stumbling down the road for a hot meal afterward.”
Helen sat up. “If you two are going, I'd better chaperone.”
“Based on the state of you two,” the Doctor interjected, “I think I'm the chaperone, here.”
Liv threw a pillow, which the Doctor nimbly dodged. The three got to their feet, half-walking, half-tripping their way out into the TARDIS’ halls. The Doctor lead the way, while Helen trailed behind Liv, their hands still clasped. She spared a glance back as the curtain parted for her; knowing the TARDIS, they might not see the room again for a while. Then again, she thought, turning back to Liv, the old girl always seems to send me exactly where I need to go.