First Hope
By Lufia
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. If I did, it'd still be on the air, and I wouldn't have to write fanfics. That being said, enjoy the fic!
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The first time I saw what was to become our salvation, I nearly laughed out loud. I didn't though, because I knew that would hurt his feelings. He was very sensitive about such things.

The object in question was a box, tall and blue. I found out later that the Tellurians called it a "police telephone box," same as the phrase painted in neat white letters over the door. But I couldn't read Tellurian yet. The box was old, cracking. Paint flecked off and peeled at the edges. It looked ready to come crashing down the moment anyone breathed on it.

He presented it to me with an expression of triumph, a smug, self-important look that I had come to love. He had a glint in his eyes that, after years of living with him, I'd come to recognize as the "this-is-the-answer-to-everything-trust-me" look. And I did so want to trust him now, but the site of that rickety box made me skeptical.

"It's...it's very...nice."

"It's not just 'nice,' my dear. It will keep us safe, take us away to a place where we can be free of apprehension. This is the answer to everything. Trust me."

I smiled, thinking how wonderful it would be to be free of apprehension, and patted the growing mound of my belly. When I didn't comment further, his boyish grin dropped.

"Well, don't you even want to know what it is?"

I nodded warily, not feeling up to playing his ego-building game of ask-and-answer.

"This, my dear, is a type-40 TARDIS, the latest model. Well, as of ten years ago, but no matter. It can take us anywhere and anywhen we choose. And you should see the interior; it's enormous! Plenty of room for everyone," he nodded at my growing abdomen, "and then some! You can choose the decor, any period you wish. And we can reconfigure the exterior, if you like..."

"How did you get this?" I asked, interrupting his gushings. "The High Council doesn't hand out type-40 TARDISes like sweets."

He froze and looked at the ground. He wrought his hands as he stumbled to find his voice again.

"You didn't steal it!"

"Of course not! I just...borrowed it. It was sitting in the repair shop, and I was walking the floor, making my rounds, when..."

"When you told them it was to be turned over to you on the order of the High Council?" I finished.

"Well, more or less."

"And you think they're not going to miss it?"

I sank to the ground, my Prydonian robes flowing out around me like lava. I buried my face in my hands and began to weep.

Almost immediately he was at my side, his arms around me, comforting me.

"If we do this," I whispered, "we'll be renegades."

He tilted my head up, so that I was looking into his glittering blue eyes.

"Yes, we will be renegades. I won't deny that. But, we will be safe. Safe from the Time Lord scientists and courts and media. Our child will not be treated like a specimen on display. We will be a family, not a farce."

I gazed at him through tear-brimmed eyes, considering his words.

"Do we chance it?"

My reply was a warm embrace.