"Did we lose it?" Donna asked. She and the Doctor were hiding behind a large tree, panting. Well, she was panting. The stupid Martian didn't even look winded, just her luck. Other than the sound of their breathing and the rustling of leaves, the forest they were in was eerily quiet.
The Doctor peeked out, looking for any sign of the large wolf thing that they'd barely gotten away from. Trust the Doctor to want to stare at something in wonder while it was trying to maul them both. If she hadn't pushed him away, that beast would have taken off his head. As it was, she still had no clue how they'd gotten away.
"Seems clear," the Doctor said, straightening. He winced. Donna's eyes narrowed. It was hard to tell in the gloom (fat lot of good the full moon was), but his suit seemed to be darker at the shoulder.
"Did that thing take a bite out of you? Is that blood? Oh my god, you're not going to bleed to death, are you?"
"What?" the Doctor turned and winced again. He seemed to notice his shoulder for the first time. His eyes widened, but he spoke before Donna could start yelling at him. Not that he didn't deserve to be yelled at if he needed medical attention and hadn't said anything. Especially since they were in the middle of a forest.
"No, I'm not going to bleed to death. It's already closing."
Right, that was good. Then why did he still have that look of faint panic on his face?
"You're not gonna get rabies, are you?"
"Um...not as such."
His attention didn't seem to be completely with her. It wasn't a new occurrence, as such, but that usually happened because something shiner was distracting him, not because he seemed to be on the verge of freaking out.
"Doctor, are you alright?"
He drew in a breath, attention still disconcertingly fixed on his shoulder.
"Spit it out."
"Well, a lupine wavelength haemavariform really, but -"
She cut him off.
"I heard you the first time! Are you trying to tell me we were running away from a werewolf?!"
"Yes," he still wasn't looking at her and was starting to breathe harshly. Donna was beginning to get worried and not just because there was a crazed werewolf still somewhere in the forest. She didn't need the Doctor getting all Spaceman on her when he...could...be...injured. It clicked.
"Doctor," she reached out for his arm. He jerked away and finally looked at her. His eyes were glittering strangely in the moonlight that filtered through the leaves.
"Donna," his voice sounded strange. Almost like he was growling. "Run."
Let's go for a nice stroll in this heavily forested area, Donna. The moonflowers here only bloom once every century, Donna. Oh, and did I forget to mention that this place is infested with werewolves, Donna? No, of course it'll be fine if I get myself infected, Donna.God, she was gonna kill that Spaceman when she got her hands on him. That was if he didn't kill her first.
In the distance, something was screaming in agony (something that she was adamantly refusing to acknowledge that sounded like the Doctor). It abruptly cut off. Growling took its place.
This wasn't right. She was supposed to be running away from dangerous aliens with the Doctor, not running away from him. Well bugger if she was going to be slow enough that he'd eat her. Then he'd probably enter a brood fest of the ages whenever he got back into his right mind. If he ever did. Well, whatever passed for right mind with the Doctor.
She ignored the something crashing in the undergrowth behind her, sounding ever closer much too quickly.
And as much as it would please her in a morbid way that he'd be upset about having killed her, she did not need him to mope about it for the next few centuries. There'd be no living with him after that, she knew. Not that she would be the one doing the living. Not that she intended to die either.
It was at that point that Donna realized she was becoming a bit panicked. It wasn't the smartest thing to be doing when being chased by an overgrown wolf, but she found she couldn't really stop when she remembered that she had no idea which way she needed to run to get to the TARDIS. Some field or other, wasn't it?
She screamed when something barreled into her and sent her sprawling. She got the impression of dark fur and gleaming eyes before she groped around the floor for a stick, a rock, something to stop the Doctor and get away. She froze when something nudged her shoulder.
There was a distinct lack of bloody death happening. Hot breath washed over her face from where she was lying on the floor. Dog breath, a corner of her mind whispered while she gathered the courage to open her eyes.
She bit back a yelp when she finally did.
The largest wolf she had ever seen was standing over her. Lord, but he was massive. Definitely larger than any horse she'd seen was the first thing her panicking mind provided. Dark, gleaming fur (hard to tell the actual colour in this light) almost covered the wolf's rippling muscles. Its eyes were odd. Not the Doctor's warm brown, or a wolf's yellow, but a blue so pale they seemed silver. She shivered, remembering the same eyes on the one that had attacked them in the first place.
She had no doubt this was the Doctor and not the other one. That one had been a large, slavering mass just waiting to rip them to shreds. This one was calm and collected and -
And wagging his tail. The Doctor had a tail now. Of course. Because her life couldn't possibly get any weirder.
When the Doctor saw her eyes open, he gave a happy sounding whine. With what she could only describe as a grin, he nudged her face and then proceeded to slobber all over her.
Now sitting up, all Donna could do was stare at the Doctor. He seemed to be paying her little mind, just sniffing around in the undergrowth, or sharply looking around whenever he picked up some noise she couldn't even hear. He was also licking everything in sight. Donna just thanked heaven for small favours that he hadn't proceeded to mark his territory all over the place. All in all, he was acting like an overgrown puppy only just discovering the world for the first time.
"This. Is. Bonkers."
She still needed to get her head around this. Her best mate had just turned into a werewolf.
The Doctor turned to her when she spoke, ears perked up and tail wagging. Well, at least he didn't seem very upset. Though whether he remembered anything apart from her was anybody's guess.
"I don't care how effective your puppy eyes are now, I'm not toilet training you."
From the non-reaction to that, not very much. Still, he bounded to her and nudged her face again. A small thrill of fear filled her. It was the Doctor, yes, he'd already shown he wouldn't hurt her, yes, but he was still in the form of an enormous wolf that made a primal part of her brain wibble.
"Don't you go slobbering all over me again," she told him sternly. He nudged her again and Donna suppressed a smile at the odd, cold sensation of his nose on her neck.
"You big softie," she muttered at him. Then, slowly, she reached up and touched him. His fur was soft and thick and amazingly warm. Donna smiled when he let out a pleased rumble and positioned his head so her hand was right behind his ears. She obliged and scratched.
A furious thumping behind him sounded and a cloud of dirt and leaves rose up. Donna buried her face in his fur and tried to suppress her laughter. She also tried to ignore the slightly hysterical quality of it.
What in the world was she going to do? She had no idea where the TARDIS was, there was at least one other murderous werewolf out there and even if she did know how to get to safety, what guarantee was there that the Doctor would be back to normal once they got there? Or once the sun rose up. She was a little fuzzy on the mythology behind this (and from previous experience with the Doctor, who knew if that mythology even applied here?)
She pushed away from the Doctor and wiped at her eyes. The Doctor was watching her intently, some odd quality of him still present in them, despite the strange colour.
"Right, no use lazing about here. You wouldn't happen to know the way back to the TARDIS?"
His head quirked to the left.
"Oh, what's the use? I'm asking an overgrown mutt."
He whined and nudged her again. Home.
"Did you just?"
The Doctor looked at her expectantly. Donna got to her feet, brushing the leaves off of her clothes. Thanks to the Doctor, her shirt was now completely ruined. He was going to be making that up to her, fur or no fur.
When she finished and looked at the Doctor again, she drew in another breath. Standing up, it was even clearer just how massive he was now. Even on all fours, he was taller than her. He wasn't as bulky as she'd thought though; the thick fur on his nape and down his back just gave an impression of bulk.
"Right, Wolfboy. Think you could manage to get us to the TARDIS? Preferably before we get eaten by that other one?"
Those pale eyes were fixed on her. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could see a bit of amusement in their depths. Donna shivered. The Doctor was suddenly next to her, blocking the hint of a breeze that had managed to wound its way through the trees. She leaned into him, reveling in the warmth of his fur.
"At least there's some use for you," she muttered and wrapped her arms around his neck. He huffed a breath, puffing her hair away.
Donna startled a bit, but didn't pull away. It was the same strange feeling as before. Not quite telepathy, not like on the Oodsphere, but something deeper, more visceral. Primal. But still familiar. She could just about imagine the Doctor babbling away about deeper telepathic connections or whatever this qualified as.
"Telepathic wolf. Because that's not weird at all."
Still, it seemed to be the only way she was able to communicate with him. She wasn't sure whether that was because he couldn't speak, or if his now-wolf mindset prevented him from it.
"Come on, Spaceman," she pulled away, "Let's get to someplace with a bit more civilization, yeah?"
He nudged her again, with what Donna now realized was affection. He lowered himself to the ground, looking at her expectantly.
"If you think I'm gonna ride you, Spacewolf -"
He whined. His eyes were huge and pleading. God, if his puppy eyes had been effective before...
"I'm not...Oh, why bother."
Gingerly, she climbed up onto his back. He waited until she had a firm grip on his fur before gently getting up.
"If you mess up my hair, Sunshine, you'll be going to a trip to the vet."
With a snort that sounded far too amused for a wolf to be able to make, the Doctor trotted off.
This ain't so bad, Donna thought to herself. Then the Doctor sped up. Donna found herself hanging onto the Doctor for all she was worth. She'd ridden a horse once. This was nothing like riding a horse.
The trees whipped past them as the Doctor ran. Donna could feel his exhilaration as his heart pumped, as his paws thudded against the forest floor and as his muscles worked to move them. Everything around her seemed sharp and crisp, not blurring her surroundings as he ran as much as she'd thought. Hunt, free, fun.
She laughed, sharing in his simple delight.
After far too short a time, the Doctor slowed down. This definitely wasn't where they had left the TARDIS, but the area did seem familiar. Then she noticed a rough circle of trees and vegetation that looked like a wild animal had been at them. In the center was a pile of dark rags. Oh.
For all that the Doctor was docile now, it was obviously a good thing he had told her to run. The area was almost completely destroyed. One tree was leaning against it's neighbour, part of it broken off, bark hanging ripped and thick sap running down the ruined trunk. The surrounding trees all had deep claw marks and so did the ground around them. She remembered the screaming she'd heard and shuddered.
A whine drew her from her observation. The Doctor was looking at her expectantly again. She slid off his back, smiling at the way he immediately nudged his head under her hand. After petting him for a while (and wasn't that just wizard), she felt surprisingly calmer.
The Doctor moved away and stood next to the ragged remains of his clothes, pawing at them and looking at her again.
Donna rolled her eyes.
"Those things are ruined, Wolfboy, you're gonna need a new suit."
He huffed and then began carefully shuffling through them. A glint of silver caught her eye. His screwdriver.
"Well, if that's what you wanted, you could have just said so!"
The Doctor leveled her with a look that would have screamed exasperation if he'd been in his usual form.
Donna approached the ragged pile and pulled the screwdriver out. Amazingly, it was intact. She rifled through one of his remaining pockets and got out the psychic paper as well. The Doctor gave a short, happy bark. She smiled when she saw his tail wagging. Something in the branches caught her attention.
"Trust you to think of your precious coat while transforming into the Wolfman," she muttered and took his long coat off of the branch. She was promptly smothered by an excited pile of fur.
"Oi! Get off, you overgrown furball!"
The Doctor didn't listen to her, instead taking turns sniffing excitedly at the coat and licking her face.
"Oi!" she flicked him on the nose. He drew back, startled. Donna laughed at his expression. "Serves you right for drooling all over me, Wolfbo-"
Donna trailed off when she noticed the Doctor had completely stilled. He was staring intently at a point over her left shoulder. His hackles were raising. She'd never had a dog, but she could guess enough about their behaviour that whatever had made him act like that couldn't be good.
Then she heard it; great crashing and snapping and breaking sounds were coming from behind her. She turned to look, but yelped when the Doctor pushed her down to the ground and herded her against a large tree.
"Watch it!" she snapped at him, but he wasn't paying her any mind. He was standing over her, completely stiff and still, tail down, hackles raised, staring at the direction the other beast would be appearing from. A low growl was rumbling in his chest.
With a thunderous crash, the other werewolf, the one who had started this whole mess, burst into the small clearing. Donna only got the impression of slavering jaws, wicked claws and blazing silver eyes before the two wolves crashed together in a fury of ripping, biting and snapping.
Knowing there was nothing she could do that wouldn't leave her dead or a werewolf herself, Donna pressed herself against the tree. Her eyes were fixed on the two blurs. She winced at every growl and snarl. The fight was savage. They were ripping each other apart.
There was a strangled yelp and a sickening crunch. Donna flinched, but kept her eyes on the scene. Bloodied and injured, but still standing, the Doctor was crouched over the other werewolf's crumpled form, jaws firmly clenched around the other's throat. With a final growl and snap, the Doctor broke the other werewolf's neck and let go.
Donna felt bile rising in the back of her throat. He'd protected her, she knew, but it didn't alleviate the sheer brutality of the way he'd done it. Donna felt nothing but relief at the other werewolf's death, but she knew the Doctor would be troubled by it if he were in his right mind.
A wet nose touched her cheek. Donna had to stop herself from gagging at the smell of fresh blood on his breath. Still, she reached up and ran a hand through his fur, mindful of his wounds. He was trembling.
"Oh, Spaceman," she whispered, "Let's get back to the TARDIS, yeah?"
The moment she'd closed the doors to the TARDIS, he began changing back. Donna was glad she hadn't seen it the first time around, because it looked agonizing. The sounds of his bones snapping and cracking back into place weren't the worst of it either; the pitiful whines and half growls that turned into his voice were.
She managed to catch the Doctor before he hit his head on the floor of the TARDIS. He was shaking and sweating, trying to curl up as close to her as he could. He looked barely conscious lying with his head in her lap, clutching her shirt in a deathly tight grip. He groaned, curling in on himself even more.
Her heart twisted at the tremble in his voice. She'd never seen him like this. Not even during that horrible moment in Pompeii.
"I'm here, Doctor. What's-" wrong? Well, that was pretty obvious, "What do you need?"
"M-medbay. The virus, it's still-" he shuddered in her arms, twisting, "still trying to rewrite my DNA. Need to stop it, slow it down. Before," another cry, "Before -"
Before he became a mindless beast like the other one, Donna somehow knew. She didn't know what had stopped him from seeing her as prey in the forest, but it certainly hadn't been the werewolf part. Not with the way he'd so viciously torn into the other one.
"Alright, Spaceman. Up you get," she stood, helping him to his feet as well. He stumbled, but she managed to right them before they both toppled to the floor. Painfully slowly, they made their way to the TARDIS' medbay.
Donna sighed in relief when she saw the TARDIS had moved it to the first door by the console room instead of the usual loo that door lead to. She helped the Doctor onto one of the exam beds. He was shivering and jerking all over, completely covered in sweat. He wasn't supposed to be sweating.
"What do I do, Doctor?"
Getting him to the medbay was all very well and good, but she wasn't a doctor. And even if she had been, she likely wouldn't have known what to do with the futuristic equipment either.
"T-TARDIS," the Doctor stuttered, fumbling at a display next to the bed. Donna touched it and it lit up, a flow of symbols scrolling down.
"Oi, English please!" she scowled at it. The flow stuttered and shifted into words she could understand.
The Doctor had barked out a laugh at her indignant comment to his ship, but it had turned into a groan. One of his hands was gripping her shirt again.
Donna immediately abandoned the display and went to his side. He was staring up at her, wide-eyed. His eyes kept changing, going from that lovely warm brown to that pale silver-blue.
"It'll be alright," she said, part of her not really believing it. She smoothed back his sweat soaked hair.
His lips twitched into a smile that turned into a grimace.
"You better," he paused, gasping, "You better restrain me."
Her first instinct was to protest. The look in his eyes stopped her. Whatever she was going to need to do, it wasn't obviously going to be pretty. She wondered if the restraints would be for her safety, or his.
She got down to business.
Donna barely remembered what went on in the next few hours. It was a whirlwind of pressing buttons, running scans and even going to get that hand the Doctor had lying around in the console room and taking samples; moments of checking on the Doctor, trying to calm him as he strained against the restraints, screaming. Finally, finally, the flow of words on the display stopped, with one last instruction to inject him with whatever she'd been percolating under the TARDIS' guidance.
"Right," she breathed and injected him. The Doctor's head snapped back, a howl of agony pouring out of his throat. Then he began to fit.
Donna watched in horror. She ached to do something, stop it in some way, but she hadn't the first clue what or how. There was just one word on the display - wait.
So she waited. Had she made a mistake? There'd been so much to do, with such an underlying urgency. She wasn't sure if she'd missed a step. What if she'd poisoned him? What if what she'd given him would kill him?
The fit stopped and the Doctor lay there, deathly still but for his ragged breathing. None of the monitors were bleeping at her, so Donna assumed he was alright. Well, for a given definition of alright. A bit of rational thought returned now that his horrible twitching and twisting had stopped. The TARDIS would have stopped her if she'd done something wrong. All she could do was trust in the Doctor and his machine.
A blinking on the display drew her attention. Dislocated left shoulder and broken right arm, it read.
Donna felt a bit sick. The restraints hadn't done him much good in that regard when the fitting had started. Thankfully, from the scan, it looked like a clean break, not even out of alignment. The arm was already healing (ridiculously rapidly, she thought, even for him); she just needed to pop his shoulder back in. The display spewed out more instructions.
She swallowed and then followed them. In the end, the Doctor's unconsciousness made the process easier. It still didn't stop her from feeling a bit ill at the dull pop when his shoulder clicked into place. The Doctor didn't react at all, not even a grimace.
Shakily, she straightened.
"Right, Spaceman. You owe me big time for this."
She only noticed how much her hands were trembling when she went to brush his hair back from his face. She took a step back and the back of her knee bumped into something that hadn't been there a moment ago. Donna was about to turn around screeching when she saw the innocent looking armchair.
It looked ridiculously out of place in the medbay, but Donna recognized it. It was one of the many mismatched chairs from the library. Stifling a laugh that threatened to turn hysterical, she sat down.
It was as comfortable as she remembered. And big enough to curl up on. More tired than she'd ever felt, Donna settled into the chair, her eyes on the Doctor's still form. She'd just rest for a while. Just until he woke up. Wouldn't do to leave the dunce alone after everything that had happened today.
Slowly, her eyes closed and she drifted off.
Someone was groaning. Donna awoke, blinking blearily. When she saw the Doctor lying there on the exam table, she rose from the armchair and went to his side. He was waking up.
"How are you feeling, Time Boy?"
The Doctor let out a small, pained chuckle.
"Like I've been run over by a grevlax."
"A what?" she asked even as a smile broke out on her face. He was alive and already spouting nonsense. He was going to be alright.
"Twice as large and ten times as heavy as a truck," the Doctor said quietly. He still hadn't opened his eyes.
"You going to wake up properly, Doctor?"
She swept his hair from his face, noticing that he seemed a little warmer than usual. Still not human temp though. His hair seemed darker too. A lot like the fur he'd sprouted last night.
He blinked and immediately closed his eyes again, his face scrunching in a grimace.
"Too bright," he complained, turning his head to the side.
"It's dimmed, Spaceman," Donna said, a bit worried. His eyes were still that pale blue. Maybe whatever she'd given him needed more time to fully work? It had been a cure...hadn't it?
She was still running her hand through his hair and he leaned into it, a small smile twitching on his lips.
"Too late for a cure," he mumbled sleepily, "Just enough to kill the virus though."
He yawned and gave a little whine since Donna had stopped her movement. She resumed the petting, eyeing him suspiciously. Had he just read her mind? She was resolutely not thinking about the consequences of what he'd said.
"Sorry," his voice was getting quieter. He was obviously heading into lala land, "Barriers are a bit wobbly. Tha's nice," he slurred and leaned into her hand again.
Donna sighed and let it go. For now. But so help him if he did that when he was wide awake.
"Go back to sleep, Spaceman."
With a contented little sigh, he did. Donna stayed by his side for another few minutes before she began moving.
First, she undid the restraints. Then she found a blanket and finally covered him. She'd been so worried last night, she hadn't even registered he'd been completely naked this whole time. At least it was warm in the medbay. It wasn't like the TARDIS would have let her Time Lord get cold.
She smirked when the Doctor snuggled into the blanket and turned onto his side. With the way his hair was a complete mess and his features were slack in what was for once a peaceful sleep, he looked like a little kid.
She caught herself yawning as well. Lord, but she was still knackered. Only now, she was also aware that she was completely filthy, both from the forest and from her frantic efforts to help the Doctor. She made a face and decided to take a nice long shower. And a bite to eat, she amended when her stomach rumbled. The Doctor would be fine on his own for a while.
With a last look at the Doctor, she left the medbay.
It wasn't until she'd woken up from another bout of exhausted sleep that she let herself think about what the Doctor had said. She hadn't actually cured him? What had she done then? Was he going to be a werewolf now? Just like that?
God, too many questions swirling around her head. She kicked the covers off of her bed and got up, determined to get some answers after breakfast. Hopefully the Doctor would be awake by then and if not, he damn well would be after she was done with him.
Frustration and worry made her usual morning routine much more fraught than it had ever been. Though it wasn't until she completely crushed an egg in her grip while making breakfast that she realized she needed to calm down a bit. She sighed and cleaned the sticky mess. She cracked another egg in the pan, this time making sure there wouldn't be any egg shell.
The Doctor's far too cheerful voice startled her and she almost sent the whole pan flying.
"Don't do that, Spaceman!"
She slapped him lightly on his arm, remembering at the last moment that it had been broken only a few hours ago. He just grinned.
"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. Donna rolled her eyes and turned back to the stove, more to avoid those unfamiliar eyes than because of the fact that he was dressed in nothing but that blanket she'd covered him with.
"And put some clothes on."
"After I eat something," he said, moving to the fridge, babbling all the while, "You'd be amazed how much energy such a full body transformation takes. I feel like I could eat a whole Branta boar and those boars are enormous - " his voice became muffled and incomprehensible. He closed the fridge and kept on talking, despite the banana stuffed in his mouth. He was holding another one and the entire package of bacon she'd stashed in there a few days ago.
"Just stop it!" she snapped, whirling around to look at him. He froze mid-sentence, watching her warily. He looked completely ridiculous, wrapped in nothing but a blanket, holding the food he'd taken out, half a banana still sticking out of his mouth. Any other day, she would have laughed at him, but the dark hair and pale eyes made her painfully aware that this wasn't business as usual. She became aware that her chest was heaving.
The Doctor swallowed and set the other food down.
"Donna," he began gently, as though trying to calm a wild animal. That made a part of her want to burst out in hysterical giggles, but it also riled her.
"I'm not afraid of you, for Christ's sake!"
And she wasn't. Not of him. If he hadn't hurt her when he'd been a pile of fur and fangs, she doubted he ever would.
The Doctor looked a little startled at her outburst.
"I know, Donna, bu- "
"Just stop," she interrupted him, feeling drained all of a sudden, "I don't know if this is business as usual for you, Spaceman, but I can't - You were screaming, but I had to keep running but it turned out you were still you only furry and you ripped its throat out. Then you changed again, only it was even worse and I had no idea what I was doing and you just kept screaming and now - and now it's all just alright?!"
She was shaking again by the end of her outburst. The Doctor was looking at her with concern, but also warmth.
"I'm fi-" he stopped when he saw her expression. So help him if he said he was fine, "I'll be fine, Donna."
"Still got to work out a few things mentally. Instinctual responses to sort through, that sort of thing."
"So you're still a..." she couldn't really bring herself to say it. Even in her head, it sounded bonkers.
"Werewolf? Can't be helped."
He shrugged, but Donna could see he wasn't quite as calm about it as he appeared to be. He also didn't seem as worse for wear as he could have been though. Donna knew that if this had happened to her, she would have been freaking out. Hell, she was freaking out.
"That was one of the most aggressive viruses I've ever seen, Donna. Though a different variation from the last time. It was ripping me apart from the inside out. Even an infusion of my unchanged DNA only just managed to kill it."
"Right," Donna took a deep, calming breath, "So what's this mean?"
He only looked at her, puzzled and slightly apprehensive. Like he had during that ATMOS incident when he'd thought she was going to leave him. She sighed.
"For you, dumbo."
"Oh. Oh!" he visibly brightened.
"I have no clue yet! Like I said, have a whole other set of instincts to explore, senses to bring to heel, that sort of thing."
"You're not gonna turn into that...thing, are you?"
He looked at her a bit blankly.
"Ah, werewolf now, course I am. Not sure if I can control the transformation or not yet and blimey, wouldn't that be awkward, transforming every time the moon's full -"
"I didn't mean turning into a slightly fuzzier version of you," Donna said quietly, "I meant that rabid thing that started this whole mess."
"Oh," he looked relieved. Then scratched his head, face scrunched in thought, "Um, no. Shouldn't think so. Without the virus as a driving force, I can't think of anything that would even stop me from controlling myself while in that form."
Donna leaned against the counter, trying not to let relief overwhelm her. This was still the bloody weirdest thing that had happened to her, but as long as he didn't turn into a crazed fur ball, she figured she could live with it. Couldn't be much worse than living with the regular him, could it?
"Though God help you if I catch you chewing on my shoes, wolf or no," she waved the wooden spoon she'd been cooking with at him threateningly.
"Ha!" he hooted and grabbed her in a hug, lifting her off her feet. She shrieked something between a laugh and a curse (he was still only wearing the sheet for goodness' sake!), but hugged him back anyway.
"Put me down, you daft Martian!"
"Why?" she could feel him grinning into her hair as well as a spark of his relief and amusement skittering across her mind. Something he obviously still had a bit of trouble reigning in.
"Because if you don't, I'll shove those burnt eggs down your throat instead of the bin."
"Oh right, food," he said, putting her down. He snagged the banana he'd been half-way through, devouring it in a few bites. Then he started in on the bacon, not even bothering to fry it or even cut it into more manageable pieces. She watched him, a bit disgusted.
"Any chance of you making another omelet?" he asked after he'd wolfed down the meat, hungrily eyeing the now-ruined eggs.
"I will if you put some bloody clothes on. Get!" she shooed him out of the kitchen, but not before he snagged an enormous spiny fruit from some planet or other from the counter. Great, she rolled her eyes, he'd eat them out of house and home if he continued like this for much longer.
"And some banana bread?" his head peeked out from the door, eyes sparkling madly with good humor. She threw a towel at him.
He ducked back into the hallway and she could hear his laughter fading into the distance.
"Stupid Martian," she grumbled, but turned back to start making another omelet.
It was going to take ages for her to house train him again.