Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Notes: Set directly after the Eleventh Doctor episode 'The Crimson Horror.'

THE INCOMING STORM

The very air seemed to stir and howl as her monster left. Ada cocked her head, attempting to discern the source of the storm. No rain was falling, yet a storm had taken the Doctor away. It seemed apt, for he was so very like rolls of thunder and clatters of lightning, causing change and chaos in his wake. Her monster, the storm.

"Miss Ada," A clear commanding voice called to her. The Doctor's friend, Vastra. "We have transport. Where would you like to go?"

Such a question. Ada had always followed her mother's lead, fumbling a hand along a wall, a cane against the floor, anything to discern the path that lay ahead. But now...what was a suitable direction? She had no orders, no tasks, no mother. Ada twitched, something twinging inside of her at the thought. She had told the Doctor that there was plenty for her to do, a bright young girl, but she was not sure where to first place her feet.

There was a gentle presence at her side and Vastra's maid, Jenny, spoke. "If you'd like, there's plenty of room for visiting us in London. A change of air maybe?"

London. Ada had heard so much about it, the buildings and the people. What was Yorkshire now but her former cage? A place filled with ghosts? A fresh place to begin...the idea lifted her heart and made her breathing seem deeper and easier. She nodded.

"If you are sure it would be no trouble?"

"No trouble at all," Vastra reassured, a voice without lies. "Show Ada the way, Jenny."

There was a soft pressure at Ada's elbow – an offer to guide. Ada hesitated, guidance could so easily be control, she had learned that most painfully. But Jenny didn't presume, she waited, warm and patient, until Ada took a faltering step forward. Then Jenny simply indicated which direction they should be walking in, she didn't increase their pace or seem impatient or frustrated. She did fill the silence though.

"Madame likes for me to keep a look-out, to see what's really going on, because then we can work out where we're needed," she confided, matching her footsteps to Ada's. "I bet you do that too. People forget about us, you know, the ones who don't matter; they forget that we can hear them. Leads to all sorts of fun."

Ada's brow creased. She had never thought of her position in that way. She'd always thought of her blindness as a punishment, an example and warning to others. She herself had always been hollow, a vessel for her mother to fill for great purpose. But what purpose was there for her now? A new horizon; she might not see its colours but she could feel its warmth on her skin and hear the birdsong it inspired. The Doctor solved mysteries, and so did his friends. Could Ada do so too?

"There's a step here, Miss, just raise your foot."

Thanks to Jenny's instructions, Ada was able to quite easily lift herself into the carriage. Jenny had not attempted to manhandle her, nor had she sighed with impatience or pushed and shoved. She had simply offered advice and had waited just in case. Now she was sat opposite Ada, Ada could hear the whisper of fabric and the murmurs as Vastra and her maid became comfortable. They were familiar and friendly with each other; there was a love and warmth to their interactions that caused something to ache in Ada's bones. No one had ever spoken to her in such a manner.

There was a shout from the front of the carriage and the journey began.

Vastra and Jenny were talkative company, they revealed that the Doctor had saved both their lives and had shown them just what they could achieve by viewing the world from a different perspective.

"This time does not entirely appreciate us," Vastra noted without further explanation. "But we can do a great deal here and we are happy. There is little more we can ask for."

Ada could hear the layers that were purposefully unrevealed, the long-practiced gaps in the stories, the secrets that they clasped close. She felt a sharp splinter of pain at being surrounded by yet more lies, but she understood. They did not know her and whilst they were united through their association with the Doctor, it was not enough to cause a spilling of long-held confidences. After all, he was her monster and only Ada knew why. It was something that she cradled close and chose to keep silent.

Ada could hear something different in the way that Vastra moved, the way that her skirts and sleeves dragged on her skin, the way that words sounded past her lips. They were all things that Ada had never encountered before and they were not spoken of. Perhaps Vastra too had suffered some unkindness to her body that caused others to stare and whisper, that would explain the heavy veil that Ada had heard her arrange about her face when they were stood outside. Ada understood why Vastra and Jenny did not speak of it and so she did not either. It was an unfortunate kinship.

For all their gaps and silence, she liked Vastra and Jenny very much; she liked their plain manner and encompassing kindness. They did not seek to command her every move, or ignore her. They seemed to view her as simply another person to be treated accordingly. It was how the Doctor had treated her. It was refreshing and made Ada feel a little firmer.

The driver was muttering something very strange. He seemed to possess a violent temper and little of what he said made sense. Perhaps he was addled, born with a deficiency of the mind, someone else that the world did not look kindly on.

Ada leaned towards the window, basking in the coolness of the fresh air and the warmth of the sun and fell into a sleep that was fraught with strange images – fire and furnace, her mother's voice, and something crawling beneath her feet until she beat it with her cane. Only in sleep was she surrounded by colour, but they were never pleasant dreams.

The air was thick with smoke in London and the driver – Strax – became louder as he opened a door and told Ada that he would be watching her closely and that she should prepare to be obliterated, before offering to take her coat and bonnet. Jenny made an exasperated noise and directed Ada into a house that felt dark and cool and welcoming.

"Strax likes to fight but you've nothing to fear from him, what with you being a friend of the Doctor."

Her words were more reassuring than they ought to be and Ada's words were hesitant in reply. "Where does he come from?"

"Well…" Jenny drew the single word out. "The police believe he's Turkish."

That wasn't an answer and Ada said so. Jenny sounded like she was smiling as she helped Ada get comfortable in what could have been a drawing room.

"You see the bits that other people skim over. That's important." She paused, tugging off a bonnet. "Strax is from a world very different to ours and very far away. It's a place full of war and he didn't know different until he came here."

Jenny left to make some tea and Ada peeled off her lace gloves, letting the atmosphere of the house settle around her. It was comfortable and she felt at ease, despite the secrets. She felt as though she could talk without reproach and turn her face to the sun without being told to cover up. She listened to the horses and people that passed by outside – the house was on a busy street and someone was calling out that they were selling hot pastries. She could hear the whistle of a kettle and Jenny murmuring softly to Vastra and then what improbably sounded like a kiss. Ada pressed bare fingers to her own cheek, where her monster had gifted her a priceless unthinkable memory. Something else for her to hold close and secret.

There was that noise again, of Vastra's clothing moving on what didn't sound like skin, it sounded smoother somehow, like water on pebbles. Ada was still attempting to puzzle out the noise when Vastra herself sat down nearby, removing her veil.

"You are safe here, Ada," she uttered, quiet and clear. "And when you take your leave, should you ever feel unsafe again, you must call on us."

It was an extremely kind offer and Ada smiled, her milky eyes seeking where she knew Vastra to be. "Thank you, but I don't wish to be a burden."

"You are no such thing," Vastra replied, as Jenny walked back into the room, china tinkling loudly as she set down a tray. "You have time now to choose a new path and as we have no pressing cases, we are happy to help in any way we can."

"Cases?"

As Jenny poured tea and offered warm cakes spread thick with butter, Vastra explained the startling fact that she was a detective, and that she was often sought by Scotland Yard to help solve their most puzzling cases. Together with Jenny and Strax, she helped almost anyone who asked for assistance. Jenny sat down next to Vastra and Ada was sure that she heard fingers touching and that there was a barely-present pause that felt somehow significant.

The smell of tea was a luxury, Ada could remember all too clearly her mother scolding her for drinking more than one cup from the pot. Wasteful, she had sneered, wasteful when others more deserving could be drinking such nectar. Ada's hand curled around the delicate china that Jenny had placed close by on a table, she could have this now, and more than one spoonful of sugar.

Her mother would never scold her again.

"Ada?" Vastra sounded slightly worried and Ada gave a start, almost spilling her tea.

"I'm sorry..."

"No, it's been a long day for all of us. Once you are ready, Jenny will show you upstairs to a room. If you'd be more comfortable elsewhere, a hotel can be arranged."

A hotel did not sound comfortable. Ada had stayed in such places before, her mother dismissively telling staff to ignore her daughter and run everything through her. People had loudly whispered and Ada had longed to explore her surroundings but hadn't dared. Vastra's strange but welcoming house, where she was treated so matter-of-factly, so encouragingly, was more comfort than she had ever known before.

"Here would more than adequate, if you can spare the room."

"Of course," Jenny reassured her, oddly jumping in before her mistress did. "You just give a shout when you're ready, right? I'll be up for a while yet, this place needs seeing to after our absence."

"And I have a great deal of correspondence to read," Vastra sighed but did not sound as though she loathed the task. "Good night, Ada. Should you need anything during the night, knock on the wall beside your bed."

Vastra stood up and Ada's fingers, reaching out to both settle her tea cup and gather up her cane, accidentally encountered a smooth warm hand, almost like a polished floor, or like rows of smooth pebbles. Ada had only ventured onto sandy shorelines when her mother was recruiting amongst pleasure seekers. She had gathered handfuls of debris, hiding them in her skirts – pebbles, shells, strange finger pleasures that she had tipped into a glass jar in her quarters, kept secret from her mother. It had been something for her to treasure privately, to run her fingers through as she dreamed of what else could be out there, beyond the horizon her mother firmly believed to be her daughter's limits. It had been all that was entirely hers, until a supposed corpse had held tight to her and then she had had a monster of her very own too.

Vastra did not say a word as Ada ran wondering digits across her unusual hand, before stopping in horror and quickly folding her fingers into her lap, apologies immediately spilling from her lips. Her behaviour was both rude and improper – if anyone had done the same to Ada and her marked face, she would have been mortified. But Vastra, incredibly, did not sound angry.

"I call this time and place home, but my journey began many eons ago."

Mr Sweet, the creature her mother had collaborated with, was Ada's first thought. But Vastra was no enemy with something rotting at her core, the affection that she showered Jenny with through even the simplest gesture proved that. Yet Ada could feel something so strange under her hands – a smoothness like...scales! Ada had found a snakeskin once; it had gone into her secret jar. Vastra's scaled digits ended in sharp claws. It explained her heavy veils in public.

Ada bowed her head for a moment. She knew what it was to have the world stare and whisper, for Vastra such things must surely be even worse. What sort of life could she lead? Wouldn't people scream, wouldn't they demand that she be locked away? Only that was not Vastra's life. Her life included beloved companions and work that she enjoyed. It was like a dream, something that Ada had never thought possible.

Vastra's hand moved, gliding against Ada's, the gesture gentle and comforting. The scales were warm. Ada held her breath and attempted to memorise the texture, the connection of the moment.

"You see," Vastra said simply, quiet and firm.

Then she left, giving Ada space to call for Jenny's help in retiring for the night, or to stay where she was, enjoying the cool air and the tangibility of freedom as she'd never known it before. Ada remained there for only an hour or so more, her thoughts brewing and cresting, before she hesitantly called for Jenny. She slept peacefully that night – no dreams.