Work Text:
When Doctor comes to, they’re swathed up to their nose in plush comfort. Everything is warm and soft and safe—no cold, sterile walls of the facility’s corridors, no migraine-inducing paperwork boring holes into their skull, just the sweet, sweet safety of their bed. They don’t remember asking for hot water bottles the day before, but the pleasant heat against their face and around their middle is welcome nonetheless. They think to open their eyes for a moment, but the allure of more peaceful sleep is simply much too tempting. They could just stay here forever, in this blissful haven free of deadlines and reports and work… Work, that’s right. There was something scheduled for today, wasn’t there?
Doctor’s eyes snap open as harsh reality rams into them with the subtlety of a steam train. Oh, damn it all, they’re late! Why didn’t they hear FORMAT call for them? Why didn’t she get Captain Rebecca to wake them up?! …Where even was the captain, anyway? There’s a firm weight on Doctor’s stomach locking them in place, stopping them from sitting up. They wrench their arms from under it and yank the covers off—well, there’s their answer.
Clad in plain pyjamas with a hood still enshrouding her face is the indomitable HOTFIX captain, sleeping like a log in the Doctor’s bed. They would otherwise find it cute, if a little strange, if it weren’t for her toned arms keeping them chained in this plush prison. Doctor feebly claws at her arms, tries to pry her fingers away to unlock her hands, to absolutely no avail. They squirm and writhe and kick, mustering every last ounce of strength to escape Rebecca’s comforting, smothering embrace.
Then, finally, Rebecca stirs. She sucks in a breath as her hold weakens ever-so-slightly. Doctor takes the first chance they get to break free and they hop to their feet. They cast a sorry glance back at Rebecca, whose arms are posed like she still expects them to be there. Perhaps they could rejoin her once they’re done with work for today? Right. Work. They wrench their eyes away and scramble to reach their clothes drawer. Behind them, they hear the bed creak as Rebecca pushes herself up to a sit, mumbling something indiscernible. Before their guilt compels them to return, they toss the little nightcaps on their fingertips back into the top drawer, freezing in place once they hear—
“Mhh… Doctor…?” Rebecca sleepily moans before breaking into a yawn. Doctor’s heart pangs. Oh, how can they just leave her there without saying goodbye? They turn around to see her scrubbing the sleep from her eyes, and it’s so overwhelmingly cute that Doctor almost forgets to keep panicking.
“Where are you going…?” she rasps, hands dropping onto the flower-patterned quilt. They’re not sure why, but she sounds sad in a way that makes their chest ache. Since when was this genius Mindhacker so weak-willed?
“I-I’m really late, I can’t stay here,” they stammer, heart hammering. They hope she’s not awake enough to hear the quiver in their voice.
“Late?” She asks. “For what?”
“Work!” They cry. “I don’t have time to laze around here!”
Rebecca makes another sleepy sound before drawing in a breath and speaking a little louder; “But, you don’t have to work today, remember?”
Doctor blinks. “I… don’t?”
Rebecca shakes her head, humming an affirmative mm-mm. “Did you forget? Yesterday, FORMAT suggested you take today to rest, since you’ve been awfully tired as of late. I figured I’d join you, while I have the opportunity…”
“Are… Are you sure?” Doctor balks, bewildered. There’s just no way they’re hearing this right.
She nods. “It’s okay, you can go back to sleep.”
Ah, if that isn’t the best thing they’ve heard in their entire life. Well, apart from FORMAT choosing them at the championships ten years ago, but this is certainly second best to that. Abandoning their escape plan, Doctor walks back to the edge of their bed and tentatively crawls back in. Rebecca stays where she is, leaving room for the Doctor to lie down before drawing the covers over them again. Once they’re settled, her hands slide over their shoulders and begin to gently rub them. Up and down, her fingers carefully flex over their skin and ease a tension they didn’t realize was there. Doctor gasps, startled for a moment, before reclining into her touch.
“Doctor? May I massage your shoulders?” She asks, quietly. Doctor nods, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. Rebecca’s slim, weathered hands glide over their skin through their pyjamas as she delicately kneads the tension away. Doctor whines softly as they practically melt into putty in her hands.
“Poor thing… you’re so tense,” she croons, thumbing near their neck. “Being hunched over your desk all day must be so torturous, right? You’re so brave for doing that every day. Our brave, brilliant Doctor…”
As if their face wasn’t already burning up. Doctor smothers themself into their pillow, pink as a peony and squirming with embarrassment. Just what the hell was going on with her today!? …And why weren’t they asking her to stop?
“Here, is this better?” She asks, before pressing a tender spot right between their shoulders. The firmness in their muscles all but crumbles away, like softly crushing wilted flower petals, and it draws out a blissful sigh from them.
“There you go,” Rebecca purrs. “Just relax…” Her silken whisper drifts over Doctor’s ear and makes them shiver. They turn around and snuggle closer to her to get warm again. Her flesh is soft and plump and gives under their nose as they press their face to her bosom. They half-expect her to question what they’re doing, or even lightly push them away, but she never does. Is this really okay…? They feel her quiet laughter gently rumble in her chest as she brings her arms around them to keep rubbing their back. Underneath their sleep-clothes, warmth blooms on Doctor’s skin where Rebecca’s hands touch, and they feel themself further going limp in her arms.
“It’s about time our genius Mindhacker got the lavishing they deserve,” she says. “Don’t worry, Doctor. I’ll take care of you today.”
Doctor hums softly, considering her words. It’s a little bit strange to hear their friend revere them this much. Rebecca was more or less on equal footing with the Doctor, knocking some sense into them now and then with her gentle encouragement or teasing. She praised them at times, sure, but it wasn’t with the same loving pride as FORMAT or the starry-eyed worship from outside observers. Rebecca’s compliments felt special; sometimes they came in the form of jokes, other times just simple observations. On some days, they’d linger in the Doctor’s mind a little bit longer and make them feel just a little bit weak in the knees. It’s surprising to hear this much praise from her all at once, but they are most certainly not going to complain either.
“You’re a very hard worker, Doctor,” Rebecca continues. “Honestly, I think you work too much… so, I’m happy when the two of us can relax like this. It’s nice, just having you here. Having you… close to me…” She trails off shyly, mumbling the last few words. Doctor hums in acknowledgment.
A whole day, with just the two of them, free to do as they’d like... They think of what the both of them could do with their time off. Apart from sleeping in, they try to think of something else they might want. Maybe they can actually go on that walk by the mountain ridge later? But, that sounds like a lot of effort, and they’re not willing to break out of Rebecca’s soothing embrace again. Surely, there’s something else close by that they want. Something they crave... Doctor pulls themself back slightly. Rebecca’s breath is warm and light against their face, and they’ve never been quite so close to her before. Doctor mulls it over for a long, long moment, until they find the courage to try.
Doctor opens their eyes to look at their dear friend. Her guarded eye casts a soft, pale glow underneath her hood, like a pocket-sized moon in a clear night sky. Slowly, carefully, their gloved fingers reach into the dark expanse of shadow and find Rebecca’s mouth. They can’t feel the texture of her lips through the fabric, but a light, fluttery feeling courses through them nonetheless. They touch her with the precision of a gardener reflexing a rose’s petals, and they feel as if they’re holding something similarly delicate. Doctor gently presses their fingertip on her bottom lip and, ever-so-slightly, begin to pry it open. It takes her a moment to comment on it.
“Huhu.. Doctor, you know we shouldn’t… We’re already pushing our luck.” Rebecca laughs wryly, giggles feathering over Doctor’s fingertips. Despite her words, she doesn’t sound all that afraid of tarnishing their professional relationship. Doctor’s heartbeat thrums and they swallow to help their dry throat. They press lightly on her lip again. Rebecca falls quiet as her own nervousness settles in, like she’s only just become aware of what they’re silently asking.
“Are… Are you sure…?” She asks, timidly. Oh, Rebecca. Kind and considerate Rebecca, always putting her Doctor first. They could never do something significant enough to repay her. But, at the very least, they could try…
Doctor nods, splays their palm over her cheek and, carefully, brings their mouth to hers. Their first kiss is short, gone as soon as it comes, and their lips make a quiet sound as they both pull away. Rebecca isn’t especially soft—if anything, her lips feel a little chapped, but Doctor doesn’t mind one bit. The buzz of emotion they feel having just touched them once is exhilarating. Doctor marvels at their friend for another moment, processing what they’d just done. A jolt of ecstasy surges through them as Rebecca is the one to lean in next. Doctor closes their eyes again.
Again and again, their mouths touch, then quickly part. Doctor moves one hand to the back of Rebecca’s head and pulls her closer. Rebecca breathes deeply and Doctor swallows her sighs. Their mouths slowly move against each other, exploring one another, opening more with each languid touch. Doctor’s hands trail down her face to her shoulders to her chest and clutch at the fabric of her hood. Rebecca makes a small, weak noise as Doctor’s tongue briefly brushes against her bottom lip.
“D-Doctor…” Rebecca stammers once she has a moment to breathe. Her warm hands splay across the small of Doctor’s back and send shivers down their spine. Doctor hooks their leg over her hip and tugs her back in by the hem of her hood. Her strong arms wrap tight around their thin body and they fail to suppress a whimper of their own. They lean in and kiss her again.
“…Doctor?” She calls, strangely clear with how her mouth is pressed against theirs. Slowly, they pull back to allow her to speak. They try in vain to ignore how dizzy it makes them to feel her heaving chest rise and fall against their own. They meet her eyes as they remember how to breathe. Then, they’re struck by a surge of doubt. Is this too much? Did they read her signals wrong? As if the two of them were caught in a BUG manifestation, time itself seems to pause. Anxiously, Doctor begins to pry themself off of Rebecca before gasping as she pulls them back in
“Doctor,” she says, in a low voice. Doctor feels their skin prickle as a chill rushes through them, bracing for whatever she might say. All of their earlier confidence wilts away and they feel vulnerable in her grasp. Their eyes slip closed as she cranes her neck to whisper right into their ear.
“It’s time to get up.”
Yes, that’s right, it’s time to…
“What?” they gawk. Rebecca says nothing, continuing to hold them as though they’ve fallen back asleep. Did they hear that right? Surely not. Their dear Rebecca would never be that cruel, never give them false hope, even for a joke.
“But, that’s not what you said earlier!” they protest, but find that no words come out. Maybe it is just a joke? Maybe she finds it funny to see them panic, knowing she can reassure them that everything is actually fine. Well, alright—if pathetic is what she wants, pathetic is what she’ll get. Doctor desperately clings onto her and shoves their face under her neck, nuzzling her collarbone as they sadly shake their head. She’s so warm, so soft and nice. They don’t want this to end. Is she laughing? They think they feel her laughing. Probably. Hopefully. They hold her even tighter, begging her not to go.
“Doctor…” they hear their name again, and their eyes flutter open…
Ding-dong , goes the overhead speaker. Doctor’s brow furrows as they’re met by the sight of their pillow again, minus Rebecca. Despite their covers swallowing them up to their ears, the bed feels just a little colder when they’re all alone. Except they’re not alone, because— ding-dong —someone’s right here, asking for them.
“Doctor, please respond,” FORMAT urges. Ding-dong, ding-dong, the speaker chimes again. The high-pitched tone stings their ears and makes their head buzz. With a drawn-out groan, Doctor rolls onto their back, weakly knuckling their eyes.
“Doctor? Are you awake?” FORMAT tries again. Doctor musters the strength to give a vocal response before the incessant ringing starts again.
“Y-yes, FORMAT…” they croak, voice laden with sleep. One of their hands flops to the side while the other falls limp over their forehead. They pry their eyes open just enough to see the hypnotic swirling of FORMAT’s sensors on the ceiling.
“Oh, there you are!” she cheers. “Good morning, my dear Doctor. You must have been tired, you slept in for quite a while!”
“G’morning, FORMAT…” They greet her in kind, slurring the words slightly and hoping she doesn’t notice. It’s far from a good morning, as far as they’re concerned, because they’ve just been presented with what an actual good morning could be.
“My, you sound so sleepy,” the computer coos. “Were you up late writing reports again? I’m so happy you care so much about your work. That’s our hard-working genius Mindhacker!”
While usually they’d be aglow with such praise, most of it slides over Doctor’s head while they desperately try to recall the vivid feeling of Rebecca’s warmth before it fades away forever.
“You can get lots of sleep once you’re done with work today,” FORMAT chimes in again, cutting through their concentration. “Does that sound nice?”
“Yes, FORMAT,” Doctor responds diligently, hold back a defeated sigh as they give up trying to collect the last scraps of memory from their dream.
“Very good. Now, go change your clothes and head on down to the Debug Room once you’re ready. It’s another beautiful day for hacking.”
FORMAT finishes her order, and it’s quiet once more. Once they’re absolutely sure that FORMAT won’t hear it, Doctor folds their arms over their eyes and sighs as agonizingly loud as possible.
Their head is still spinning from whatever force compelled them to imagine the HOTFIX captain’s mouth against their own. Even just the idea of it makes them burn up again and they curl into a ball to hide their face in their knees. Apart from that, the weight of reality is crushing—alas, no silken words to comfort them, no sweet reassurance that, just for once, they don’t have to do anything for a day. But, their work is their pride and joy. Surely, impressing FORMAT with another perfect hack will cheer them up…
Doctor rolls over and, for moment, hopes to see Rebecca there. She’s not. They don’t know why they hoped that, because now all they want is to forget about it entirely by the time they see her again. Just what kind of dream was that, anyway? Doctor desperately pulls from any possible information bank in their brain for why the hell they were thinking of such a thing. Better yet, why does their chest still ache after realizing it was all fake? Oh, well. Dreams are all illogical, anyway.
And what a dream that was.