Karavan (Between Runs)

Rocket bike? Plus the Doctor? Could this day get any more amazing?

Nalan helped him get the lady situated on the bike, and the bike standing upright, but her attention was focused on the controls of this amazing vehicle. She wanted more than anything to jump on and see just what it was capable of, but that would have to wait. Unless the Doctor already knew how to operate a rocket bike (and she didn't doubt he probably could if he set his razor sharp mind to it), it would be up to her to make it behave like a stretcher... a stretcher that can zoom across the desert at speeds exceeding 150 kilometers per hour!

No... later. Focus now. Surprisingly, the bike's controls were rather familiar to her. It was obviously designed to handle more like an aircraft than a normal motorcycle, so that helped. Still, Nalan couldn't read the labels on the controls, so this might be a bit difficult... She would have to use all of her mechanical know-how to make this work, and to make the Doctor proud.

The nervous buzz in her mind from knowing the Doctor was watching kept her on her toes, but Nalan worked rapidly. "Okay... if! I'm correct, it starts up... like... so!" Nothing happened, completely ruining her dramatic timing. Nalan frowned, almost frantic as she searched the controls, mumbling quietly, "Oh wait..." Then the bike leapt into the air, slowing as it reached a foot off the ground and then stopping at a mere foot and a half altitude, hovering with nothing more than a pocket of trapped air keeping it aloft. "There we go!" She fiddled with the interface some more and then gestured to the doctor to move his steadying hand, letting go of the bike herself. Not only did it not topple over, but it shifted slightly from side to side to keep Ace's unconscious form from sliding off. "Annnddd, the final touch!" One more command, and the bike shifted seamlessly into forward movement, heading in the direction of the Doctor's RV at a brisk pace.

"Tada!" Nalan proclaimed, turning to the Doctor with a beaming smile as she took a big step that turned into a fast walk to catch up with the bike and his patient.

There is a moment of hesitancy when Nalan asks for his hand to refrain from steadying the bike, Kraft blinking quietly - but complying. Driving rocket bikes was -not- his forte. Fixing people who do drive rocket bikes just happened to be where his talents lie. He watches, with curiosity, as the mechanic mumbles her way through getting the bike started, floating, and moving with a surprising amount of skill.

"Well, Nalan, I... must say I'm quite impressed."

That was easy. His initial assessment of the purple haired Karavanli notched up quite a few paces, The Doctor turns to follow alongside the 'rocket bike' as it moved back towards the RV, Ace laid across it. The rest of the trip is done with a certain amount of subdued thought, but the Doctor does take a moment to note the elderly Gobe - and his axe. And his chair's shotgun. Hmm. Must be a Karavan thing.

"I suppose that'll do as an introduction to my life amongst the Karavan?" He asks, rhetorically, before nodding at Nalan to kill the power once they are close enough. And then once more opens the RV's door, locking it open for a moment so as to better shift the patient. Speaking to Nalan even as he begins 'scooping' Ace up.

"The facility will need power. Go ahead and start the Buffalo for me, if you will, while I prep ..." He glances down at the bleeding biker, and frowns. "... Jane Doe." He finishes. . o O (A wallet check may be in order.) O o .

Their relationship had already evolved from having 'conversations' to him being 'impressed' with her. Vuslat would never believe this, and the Dune Rats are going to be enthralled when she tells them. As for Nalan, she was floating somewhere between ecstatic amazement and overwhelmed disbelief. She nearly missed the signal to halt the bike, and its momentum carried it close enough to just bounce against the corner of the RV after she ordered it to stop. Nalan winced heavily, glancing in the Doctor's direction to determine the magnitude of his disgust, before hurrying to see to his request.

She scrambled into the Buffalo without a word, pausing only briefly to appreciate the luxurious interior, and then headed for the RV's cabin. The chairs seemed comfortable and ostentatious compared to the normal understated utility of most Karavan vehicles, and Nalan almost felt unworthy to sit in them. She made sure to brush the sand and grit off of her thoroughly before sitting, and even then she tried not to touch the seat as much as possible. She squinted at the controls for a second, nodded confidently, and then started up the engine and stood back up. "Okay, done!" she called back to the Doctor, not yet joining him. "Now what?"

"Keep an eye out for further raiders. I can't be interrupted once I begin."

States the Doctor over his shoulder to Nalan, before he quietly opens one of the newly opened boxes and pulls out C-Squared. The gloves are peeled off, revealing perfectly manicured hands; Darn near too perfect. Designed that way, of course. Adding flaws to synthetic skin to make it more realistic costs more. So does micro-hair infusions. With one last smile towards the Karavanli who has proven herself so very helpful, the Doctor pulls the curtain that cuts his mobile medical shop - only partially operational - from the 'bed' area of the RV. Six miniature beds, just enough to lay flat on. And everything pressed clean and tidied away. It wasn't that the Buffalo was brand new so much as it was that Kraft was a clean-freak.

There is the sound of a suction pump that starts up from behind that curtain. And the soft, metallic clanks of 'armatures' being constructed to hold various bags of dripping fluids for to drip into the wound as it was re-opened; Antiseptics.

It's a rather long hour. Half way through is a much more solid metal 'clink', lead hitting a pan.

Not much on the radio today.

And then the suction pump is shut off, and the sound of a basin being washed. Water to be recycled, of course, and sterilized. Can't waste, not in Karavan; Not even a doctor. Finally, the curtain is peeled back, and the hole in Ace is darn near invisible. Thin cording, perfect stitches that won't even leave more than a pale tan line to show where they once were. The Doctor leaves her upon that operating table for now, wiping his forehead with a napkin. A thin paper sheet the only decency alloted, with everything else placed in the small bin beside. Can't operate through armor, and certainly can't risk any weapons going off.

"All in all, an entirely too interesting way to become acquainted..." A pause, as the Doctor checks time on his commlink. And then glances back up, blinks quietly. Nalan was still there!

"Hm. Dinner?"

"Yes."

The word left Nalan's mouth before she even realized what she was saying. Not that she regretted it. "Is- do you have any favorite- oh! You haven't been here long enough to know the local restaurants. Um... I'm sorry, I don't know what food Doctors eat. And- and... I'm sure you're hungry after such an amazing job." She stood shakily, nearly tripping in the process. It hadn't occurred to her, but she hadn't moved since sitting down nearly an hour ago, and her leg had gone quite numb. Giving it time to wake up again, Nalan leaned against a shelf, smiling at the Doctor through a grimace as needles traveled up her skin. "Ah, so... you keep a very clean work space. I do too, at the- at the shop I work at. It's nothing special, really. A chop shop, really. I mean, we probably take more vehicles apart that we put together. I could show it to you later- I mean! Not that... you'd want to see. It's boring, really!"

Nalan, shut up. Her heart beat painfully loud in her ears and she suddenly felt a previously unknown claustrophobia, the walls of the RV pressing in around her like a tomb. "Please, I'm sorry. I just... what were you saying about dinner?"

A knock diverts their attention.
"While I really hate to interrupt this touching scene, I think I must before the two of you wander off." A man, previously unnoticed, stands at the RV's entrance. He is wearing the tan tunic of a warrior, but silks of green and gold peek out from underneath. His posture is obviously military, radiating an aura of potential violence, which contrasts sharply with his clean-shaven, bespectacled expression of congenial good-nature.

Nalan recognizes him immediately. This was none other than Archivist Gursel, second in command of Alti Ok and Rahimah's right hand. Tales of him abound, from his daring escape from a prison camp with Rahimah's father, the late Kurosh-e-Kabir, on his back and his dramatic defeat of The Red Hand of Anatolia in single combat to his brokering a peace between the Seljuk and the Beylik, ending a six-year-long blood feud. Many expected him to take up Kurosh's mantle, but he was immediate and adamant that Rahimah should take that role. If it were not for this move, Alti Ok may have very well fallen to civil war; and while the past two years have not been easy, the tribe still stands among the six great tribes of Karavan.

Gursel smiles at Nalan, whom he recognizes from the pictures, and then turns to Kraft. He speaks, his voice a low rumble. "It is an honor and a pleasure to have another healer among us, Doctor. I am Gursel, the Tribe Archivist, and I welcome you to Alti Ok." He bows deeply. As he stands, he gestures toward Ace. "You do good work, I see. Excellent. I hope Nalan has been helpful to you?"

The Doctor's lips slide upwards for just a moment as this odd Karavanli stammers through what appears to be an apology for apologizing, or believing that Kraft eats food. He then holds up a hand to forestall further comment for a moment, and try to bring things back down to a realm he can grasp.

"Generally speaking.." He begins, ".. even doctors, such as myself, can process the food of mortals." A quiet laugh, not at all mocking, before he continues. "Please, don't fret. I'm certain to grow accustomed to the local cuisine; I must, if I am to make my life here in Karavan. I'd rather do it in the midst of pleasant company, if you'd be so kind. I'm afraid our other friend.." A glance back to the sedated and neatly repaired Ace. ".. Will be an absolute bore, what with unconsciousness."

And then the knock at the door draws his attention towards the door, the monocle whirring and tinting as it flips through the spectra - automatically, almost. While the importance of the color of this dune warrior escapes Kraft for the moment, the obvious bearing with which the man carries himself assigns him a higher status. Following suit to the bow, the Doctor returns his own, a far more formal smile on his lips.

"A pleasure, Archivist Gursel. I am Doctor Michael Theus, of.. no tribe in particular. I appreciate you comming so far out of your way to welcome me." He glances out the Buffalo's front windows, making certain that there isn't an encirling line of such warriors come to 'welcome' him and his expensive equipment. And then his attention is back to Gursel again. Before glancing aside to Nalan. Further tribal customs, to see how helpful a random Karavanli can be to the medical profession?

"Exceedingly so. I can truly state that I would not have gotten Miss Jane Doe's equipment - and her person - back to my RV with such ease, had it not been for Nalan's assistance." Which was absolutely true in every sense of the word, though perhaps not as Gursel intended.

Gursel furrows his brow slightly upon hearing "Natal", but he lets it go without comment. "Wonderful! I am glad to see you are settling in." His posture changes. The lines of his face harden, and his eyes grow carefully blank. Earlier he spoke as Gursel. Now he is the Archivist. "In truth, I am here because I had heard that you are skilled in war as you are in healing. You see, our next stop is Zhanaarka, a small farming community whose mayor has sent word that he needs assistance. The Yassa, however, forbids the tribe from interfering with local matters. However, if a group of private individuals, yourself and anyone you would like to bring with you for instance, were to go and offer him your assistance, that is no concern of ours. You may keep any reward he offers you as well as any incidental rewards you accrue while on the job." He smiles. "You are a newcomer, Doctor. This is a good opportunity. Zhanaarka's mayor is an old friend to Rahimah. Do this well, and you will find many doors opening for you."

Nalan almost felt guilty, as though she were witnessing an exchange of matters of Karavan security, as though she were privy to a top secret conversation. She briefly considered excusing herself, but the RV's cramped quarters meant doing so would attract far more attention to herself than she felt comfortable dealing with. And so she stood stone still, her eyes respectfully lowered as the men spoke. It seemed odd to her that such a powerful man would come to a newcomer to Karavan with such a request, but then again she was unfamiliar with how Doctor's were normally received by the tribes. Perhaps this was a normal event, a standard gesture between men of authority. Either way, it made Nalan uncomfortable just standing there, trying not to shift her weight from foot to foot. A part of her regretted that she would have to return to her normal life when the Doctor left on his special job. But at least she could take solace in the fact that his vehicle might need some repairs when he returned.

The change from 'welcoming member' to 'Mister Johnson' was subtle, but profound. Kraft's own features become one of polite interest as he listens to the carefully explained exploit, and nods his head once. "As a newcomer to the Karavan, and as of yet tribeless, I appreciate your 'warning' of a troubled settlement." He announces, formally. "However, I must disregard your warning; My conscience drives me to seek out such individuals and communities, and see what can be done to ease their burden. None the less, your concern for my safety and the Yassa is commendable."

This 'formal' disregard freeing the Archivist from any rule-bound interference - or responsibility. A thank you, of sorts. The Doctor then glances aside to Nalan, standing with head bowed, and then to the Jane Doe stretched upon his place of practice. And he moues for a moment.

"Archivist, were I to take members of the Karavan along with me.. volunteers, so to speak, on an outsider's quest... would they also be bound by the Yassa, or would the Karavan be free of responsibility for their actions as well? I do believe, if the problem is severe enough, that one may not be enough. As it is, I am familiar with only a few faces amongst the Karavanli, and those few faces I have quite grown accustomed too." Even as he speaks, the Doctor's eyes are tracking back to Nalan - monocle whirring as it adjusts to the new subject.

The shotgun Nalan carried seemed formidable enough, and two guns were better than one - not to mention four eyes. If that weren't enough, there was still the matter of his Jane Doe. By all occurances, he simply couldn't dump her in the sand and take off; Not without determining a suitable payment for services rendered, of course. Which meant having someone who knew how to manuever that... rocket bike. Until the owner stopped being unconscious.

Gursel nods. "Who you take with you is your prerogative, Doctor. As long as the warriors of Alti Ok do not draw arms, the tribe cannot be said to have acted. We are not accountable for the acts of free citizens." He relaxes, once again the friendly man who first approached. "On a personal note, please take good care of our mechanic. We are all very fond of her." With that, he gives Kraft and Nalan a friendly nod and a warm smile. "I must be off. I hope to see you again when I am less occupied and the lady is less unconscious. I am sure we will have a great deal to talk about." A bow. He turns to leave.

Daring for a mere second, Nalan snuck a glance at the Doctor. She immediately looked away after realizing his gaze was upon her, but the damage had been done, and she felt her cheeks flushing. She managed an awkward bow for Archivist Gursel, but her calm disposition was shattered.

"Did... When you said..." She looked confused, uncertain of herself. "I'm sorry, would you like my- could I- I'd be happy to help if you need any- any..." The idea of the Doctor needing her assistance was so ludicrous on its face that she felt ridiculous just offering it. "I mean not that... that I... or- or you..." She let out a sigh, too exasperated and overwhelmed to even finish her thoughts.

The Doctor bows once again to the Archivist, and allows the man to leave in peace. He then takes in a deep breath, and closes his eyes as he tries to wrap his head around Karavan life. So very, very different than the underwood dealings of America; Here, he actually -felt- like he was helping someone, rather than allowing his mechanical evolution take its natural course.

. o O (Immodesty, my next comminique to you should be quite entertaining!) O o .

And then those eyes open again, watching Nalan with a quiet interest as she stumbles through another apology for an apology. It was, in its own fashion, cute. Kraft never had anyone treat him such a way before; A unique experience. At last, he holds up a hand to forestall further stammers, and then speaks in his own smooth baritone.

"In point of fact, Nalan, I would love and welcome your assitance. But first, I never did get a chance to look over your arms." An eyebrows goes up, as a thought strikes the doctor. "You.. did come to me, originally, to see about maintenance for your cybernetics, yes? A simple enough matter, and one I am delighted to attend too. I suppose I should invite the Gobe up as well.." A glance towards the open door, where Father Val had been left in the sand.

"No need to alienate a member of the community, I suppose. Afterwards, we've a few chores to run, before the Karavan sets out." The Doctor moves to lift up Ace, now, and move her off of the operating table and onto one of the micro-beds - rails up to keep her from falling off. Paper dress crinkling against his synthetic forearms, being as thats the current hospital fashion statement. "Namely, something to strap that.. err.. rocket bike too. I imagine our Jane Doe would not wish it left behind, and I cannot see myself leaving her behind in such a condition."

. o O (Without pay.) O o .

"As a mechanic, Nalan, and more versed in such things than I... what would you suggest?" Comes the Doctor's question, now that the medical table is clear - and he's gesturing for Nalan to join him!

Through the haze of unconsciousness, Ace could feel her body being lifted. Was she floating away? She forced her mind to review her last moments. She remembered arriving at the Karavan. She recalled somebody patching her up, and some little boy fondling her bike. Her bike!

Ace shoot up in her bed. "I didn't say you could touch that!" She instinctively reached for her revolvers, to blow the pest away. Instead she felt the thin paper dress that she had been placed into. "What in the blue hell?" She stood, leaning against the bed for support, as she inspected her garb. A sharp click of her tongue showed her distaste for the garment. "Tacky."

With a quick flick of her hand she ripped the flimsy paper off. She stood in all her glory and ran her hand over her stomach, searching for the bullet wound. She was impressed by the lack of scarring. Without even looking up, she addressed the man who she assumed was her physician. "You do good work. Now unless you want to be operating on yourself, you best hand me my clothes." She finally looked up, one hand on her hips and the other outstretched to accept her clothes.

"N-no, I... w- oh, okay?" Nalan instinctively rubbed her right cyberarm with the left, producing a smooth scraping sound. It hadn't been her intention to be examined today, and especially not her cyberlimbs; Nalan knew how to take care of those. But perhaps the Doctor had noticed something wrong her, something that stood out to his trained eye that a simple tinkerer like her never could have spotted. She began moving to the table, slowly, almost as though gliding through a dream.

But like most dreams, the moment came to an abrupt end. As soon as the Doctor's patient sat up, Nalan jumped back, both hands reaching for the slings around her shoulders, just one strong tug away from yanking them into ready position. The irony of almost shooting the lady just after she recovered from having a bullet removed from her was lost on Nalan as she mentally shut down her wired reflexes, returning her reaction speed to that of a normal human.

"Hey, don't you speak to him that way!" Nalan's voice surprised her, almost like someone else was speaking and she was merely listening. "He saved your life and you owe him, so show a little respect!" Her posture was all angles as she glared at the woman, not at all off-put by her nudity or the height difference.

"Hmm?"

The Doctor's brief moment of peace - a little basic cybernetic maintenance, easy as cutting cake - was interrupted when his formally sedated patient sat up with an exclamation. And then took off her clothes. The Doctor rests his chin upon his fist for a moment, turning his gaze towards Ace. And meeting only her eyes. He's been a doctor for a long, looong time. "I would suggest you refrain from doing so, at least for now. I've woven your torn abdomen muscles back together, and the stitching should dissolve within a day or so, once the knitted flesh has settled. But heavy exertion may cause further bleeding." He then smiles at Nalan, and chuckles.

"It's alright. Due respect can come after she's ... err.. dressed." Kraft reaches behind him, pulling out the bin with clothes in it. The bin is then held out, with all of Ace's belongings there-in. "I suppose, however, now would be a time to talk about my fee. Before you get your weapons back."

Ace could do nothing but laugh in the little girls face. Even naked, Ace had no fear. She figured either the man was the girls father, friend, or lover. Either way, she knew exactly what to do to get under her skin.

She walked slowly towards the man. She made sure to sway her hips with every deliberate stride. When she reached him, she placed one under the bin containing her clothes, and the other she wrapped around the back of his neck. She leaned in close and spoke in a deep sultry manner. "You are right. I do owe you my life don't I. Now what could little ol' me offer up as payment to a young strapping gentleman such as yourself?" A dark smile spread across her lips, as she reached into the bin. She hovered inches away from his face. "You know..." Her revolver pressed against his jugular. "You got to see me naked. I think we'll call it even." With a pat on the shoulder she spun around and began to walk back towards her new bed.

Nalan's blood boiled, but time around her gelatinized, everything slowing to half as fast. She felt every spike of anger twice as long, watched every mocking moment for double the length. This was the Doctor's business, not hers. The strap of dried leather creaked in protest as metal fingers clamped down, begging to yank the attached weight of the shotgun into her waiting metal palm. The Doctor knew how to take care of himself, he didn't need her help.

"Just say the word," she muttered to the Doctor under her breath, not caring if the audacious woman heard. "And I'll refund her treatment."

On second thought, it didn't hurt to let him know that she was there if he needed her.

It was a testament to Kraft's will that his eyes never once lowered to sashaing hips or bared flesh; Either more machine than man, or unwilling to give the satisfaction. That quiet, cold little smile remains on his face when Ace leans in close - just in time to feel the muzzle press against his throat. Ah, there's the flutter of anticipation, monocle flipping itself into thermal and tinting pink. Metal fingers wrapped in synthetic flesh curl and tighten; Should've hidden her gun somewhere else.

. o O (Sloppy of me.) O o .

And then she's gone, walking back to the micro-bed as the Doctor unconsciously rubs at his throat. The quiet smile having disappeared into the cool, calm facade of any medical professional dealing with a maniac. "Personally, I prefer nuyen to other payments, save in extremely unusual circumstances." A pause as he stands up, neatly folding the medical table away and pulling his gloves off. "As pleasant as your brief tenure as my Jane Doe has been, I believe it may be time for you to exit my vehicle. I have a lot to sort before the Karavan starts towards our next stopping point." Now moving towards the back, where the boxes of medical supplies lay unopen - so that he may begin sorting them.

"Nalan was nice enough to keep your ride outside. Hopefully, everything is still intact; I can only account for it up to the moment you went under my hands." He then glances back to Nalan, and shakes his head once, but calmly. No fire fights in the brand new RV, please!

Ace relaxed in the bed, as she began to dress. The place was nice enough, though it had it's pests. Her eyes fell on Nalan as that thought passed through her head. She needed a place to crash though, and the bed was comfortable enough. The on hand medical staff wasn't left out of consideration of course. "It's a nice place ya got here doc. I think I will like it here."

Her eyes fell on the girl. "Thanks for looking after my bike, Nathan. So good to see humble little folk who look after others." She beamed a warm, completely fake, smile. It took her little time to redress, a skill that always came in handy. She began to make her way to the door, so that she could check on her bike. She paused as she reached the exit, and turned to face the doctor. "And it's not Jane Doe. It's Ace."

Instead of walking outside, she just poked her head out and took a good look around.

"Yes, we do take care of each other, 'Ice.' That's how you survive out here. Maybe you could learn a thing or two. Might keep you from getting shot again," Nalan paused, reconsidering that warning. "On second thought, go get shot again. And good luck finding someone to patch you up next time, considering how you've treated the Doctor. Word spreads fast around here, and no one's going to even look at you knowing you stiff medical experts." She kept her tone casual, smiling politely, but took a grim satisfaction from taunting the woman. And for Nalan it was even better due to the fact that every word of it was true.

Ace snickered. "Honey. Trust me I will have no issue finding somebody who will want to fix up this body." She looked Nalan over. "I could see how a young boy like yourself couldn't understand.." She leaned against the door frame of the RV, her head hung and face obscured by the rim of her hat.

"So doc. What's the balance work out to." She had never planned to not pay her medical bills of course, but Nalan didn't have to know it. She wondered if one of the six beds in the RV belonged to the little brat.

"Hmm?"

The Doctor glances up from his work, and back towards the two women still in his RV. His gaze goes first to Nalan, and then to Ace; His attention had been on sorting by alphabetical order and then by color code, where it came to the 'medications' he was stocking. Some, perfectly legal. Others, terribly not. But he had a 'license' for them all, didn't he?

After a moment's consideration, and re-winding the conversation that had been occuring behind him, he came up with a simple tally. "One hundred nuyen. It wasn't a terribly interesting wound, I'm afraid. Didn't penetrate the abdomen muscle sheathe, but certainly caused some tearing. That'll cover the cose of fuel to power the pumps and the dissolving thread." . o O (Immodesty will get a definitive laugh out of this.) O o .

He then straightens up, and begins walking back towards the two ladies - only to pause, and pull the curtain closed for the moment. Privacy. And the rustling of clothes, as he continues. "If one recalls the previous conversation correctly, one might surmise that you intend to stay with us for a little while." Begins the Doctor, emphasizing the 'us'. Whether he means Nalan in that, or whether he's just refering to himself in the royal plural is anyone's guess.

"I'm afraid I must warn you that Nalan and I will not be maintaining a low profile amongst the Karavan. As I've come to understand it, the town in which the Karavan will next break travel is in dire need of assistance. And entirely too generous in reward. Conscience dictates that I, as an outsider who's affairs will not reflect upon the Yassa, give my assistance."

More rustling clothes, before the Doctor opens the curtain once again. Dressed quite properly in his suited jacket, the jumpsuit neatly folded in a bin. Which is now being closed. The Doctor carries the shotgun that -was- slung over his back to a wall, and mounts it in a safety case.

"If this doesn't present a problem, I'm certain an arrangement can be made in terms of reimbursement, Ace." A glance between the two again. "So long as I don't have to concern myself with new upholstery in the form of bullet holes." Another pause. "I never did ask. Nalan, are you accounted for, in regards to sleeping arrangements?"

The victory rang hollow for Nalan. Yes, the Doctor was getting paid, but she knew he had lowered the price for the troublesome patient, and that wasn't fair. But it was his call, and it displayed a generosity to his soul that only made Nalan admire him more, if that were possible.

And besides, she was still thrilled by the obvious inclusion. Now they were an 'us,' the perfect situation... if it weren't for this interloper. "No, of course not," she assured the Doctor, shaking her head adamantly. "No bullet holes. And... I do have a bed in the common area, but, I- I mean... if we're going to be working... t-together... it might be easier if- I mean I can move in here, I don't have much stuff at all!" The thought of being near the Doctor overrode her revulsion at being near Ace for any considerable length of time.