Meg and the paradox

Book 3

The TARDIS continues to act up. The Doctor's suspicions of Meg's true identity are raised as she is drawn into the Keepers of History's deadly conspiracy.

Previously:

Escaping Area 51 alive, the Doctor decides to take Meg on as a companion. Along the way he hopes to find out more about her mysterious and tragic past while keeping her away from the Master.

Those that do no remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

George Santayana

History is a set of lies agreed upon.

Napoleon Bonapart

Chapter 1: Soft Landing in the Morning

"Ok, Old Girl. Nice and easy this time." The Doctor murmured, alone with the TARDIS. Getting to K2 blew all the red breakers and half the blue ones. Energy reserves were lower than they should have for such a tiny hop – they hadn't even moved in time – just a basic dematerialization. But this was a proper trip this time. A new planet. A different time.

"Somewhere peaceful, dear." He instructed. He knew where was aiming for but sometimes getting there was a bit of a negotiation.

"The Gold Sands of Megerra, or somewhere like it." He couldn't resist that destination, their names so close together. Megerra was a planet he'd taken a few companions after a rough trip and a little R and R was needed. Touristy, of course. But reforming Meg would require baby steps.

He fiddled with a hand crank, but hesitated to start the engines up. He double and triple checked his calculations. Meg was still asleep in her room. It'd be easier without her in the control room. The Doctor blamed the rough way the TARDIS was flying lately to her not liking Meg. And that dislike he attributed to her warple the Master pointed out. A phenomenon the Doctor tried to ignore, and advised the TARDIS to do the same. As with Captain Jack, when he became immortal, the TARDIS just needed an adjustment period.

"Well… allonsy."

The TARDIS glided into existence as light as a feather with barely an asthmatic wheeze.

"That a girl." He praised. He had a good feeling about this trip.

Meg glared at the shower. Just like the last time she used it, it was freezing. She didn't much care at the time, because she was covered in blood. She let the water run, but it refused to get any warmer.

"You don't scare me." she told it, stepping inside as far from the spray as she could. She hesitated, then stepped forward. She smothered a scream when the water hit her skin. "Fuuuudge monkeys. I've done polar bear swims that were warmer."

Quickly, she lathered up. "I hate cold showers and I hate you, TARDIS."

The water cut off. Meg let out a yip of surprise as she found herself naked, soapy and in the middle of a corridor.

"I'm sorry…" she said to the empty air. "Put me back?"

The Doctor was half under the grating, tinkering – a hobby and a constant necessity to keep the TARDIS running. He'd replaced the breakers, but in doing so he discovered a nasty snarl of wires leading to the cohesion matrices and one of them was growing a colony of crystalline mold that was wreaking havoc with the port tourn systems. A pop song played in the background. The Doctor's foot bounced to the music. "A hundred thousand light years from my ex… and I'm still running!"

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?" Almost there.

"I've gotta say traveling with you has been a life changing adventure. Wonderful even."

"Hm-hm." Yep, 'life changing'. Ouch. Spark. 'Wonderful'? Yes, I am.

"That said, living with you could use some improvement."

She padded into the room with the consul between them. In his awkward position under the consul, he could only catch a glimpse of her feet.

"Are you barefoot?"

"Yep."

Ordinarily he would have noticed depth of his companion's bad mood in her curt answer… or perhaps not, but just then he got a crystal mold spore in his eye that commanded most of his attention. He wiggled out, rubbing his eyes.

"Okay, but I should warn you I haven' t swept or mopped in… not sure when actually. Several centuries at least."

"Uh-huh." She answered. As she walked past again he caught two scents: a feminine lilac soap and his coat.

"What are you doing with my coat?" he removed his fingers from his eye, a bit surprised to find her wearing his coat. The Doctor slowly added it up. Barefoot, coat, wet hair, bad mood. He blushed when he figured it out.

"By any chance…" he coughed, "er… are you…?" He couldn't quite bring himself to say it: naked.

"Did the TARDIS dematerialize my shower while I was still in it? Yes."

He looked down at the jumble of wires. "My bad."

"Fine, just tell me where the closet is currently residing and you can have your coat back."

He jumped up and checked his computer. "Right. Through there, down the hall, 7th right, third left, past the kitchen, down the stairs, 18th door on the left."

Meg turned, muttering, "Rassilon."

The Doctor tugged on his ear, wondering if he should call out an apology or it that'd just make things worse. Funny thing though, the wires he was untangling and cleaning shouldn't have caused the short circuit in the internal spatio-constance program.