In reference to this post.
11. “Stop manhandling me. I can get there on my own.”
It all happened so fast.
One minute, John Smith had been patiently scouring the internet for signs of danger–signs he would never have thought to look for if not for Zepheera, the four and a half inch tall woman who had turned his life on its head. The next, his apartment door exploded and heavily shrouded figures burst in.
John flew to the nearest window with a fire escape, narrowly dodging capture, and ran like he never had before. He didn’t stop until he’d put three blocks between himself and the building, collapsing against the wall of an alleyway, breathing heavily from the exertion and adrenaline.
A squirming against the right side of his chest elicited a surprised gasp from John. He knew exactly what, or rather who was struggling in the breast pocket of his shirt, but he barely remembered putting her there. He didn’t even think about it; the second he realized there was danger, his hand had been there to scoop up the borrower and ferry her to the pocket. Like some hidden instinct.
As he reached in delicately and lifted out her rumpled figure, he received a scathing glare from Zepheera’s intense, deep violet eyes. Before all the trouble, she had set strict ground rules for personal boundaries between her and John, detailing exactly how dangerous the human hand could be to someone like her, and how unpleasant it was to be grabbed by one.
He withered a little under her scrutiny.
“Sorry,” he muttered, sliding his back down the brick wall until he sat on the ground, letting the tiny woman off by his feet.
She nodded in acknowledgement of his apology once she was on solid ground, straightening her clothes and hair before regarding him again. “Did you get the watch?”
John heaved a disappointed sigh, running a hand down his face. The fob watch. Two days ago, it had been nothing more than an old relic he kept lying around, but now it seemed that the entire goddamn universe was after it. After him. And he’d gone and left it with the bad guys.
“Damn it, John…” Zepheera grumbled, massaging her pounding temples. “We can’t leave it. There’s every possibility they’ll find out where we hid it.”
John nodded, having finally caught his breath. “Alright, let’s go.” Without thinking he reached for her again, stopping only when she jumped out of the way.
“Stop manhandling me!” she scolded, and he drew his hand back like she’d burned it with her words. “I can get there on my own.”
John’s eyes widened. “What?”
“They could still be there! If they get a hold of that watch, that’s bad, but if they have the watch and you, that is the nightmare scenario. They want the Doctor, John, and that is the one thing we /cannot/ allow them to have.” Letting out a resigned breath, she looked up at him with a slightly softened expression. “You need to run. Go, find somewhere safe to hide. I’ve added a number to your mobile that’ll link you to the TARDIS, call it once you’re secure. I’ll find the watch. Alright?”
The human’s mouth was dry. He hated the idea of leaving Zepheera on her own with those things. She was so small and could be hurt so easily. Then again, he had no doubt she could use her size to her advantage.
“Alright.”
Borrowed Time and Space 