AN: This didn't turn out to be much of a story, but, whatever. As a quick disclaimer, on the off chance that anyone should misinterpret what I've written, I do NOT advocate that people engage in relationships with maniacs / staying in abusive relationships (as she does through Last of the Time Lords). I just think it's interesting to think about what Lucy's thought process might be. Also, I obviously don't own these characters.
How odd. How very, very peculiar.
That was the first thing Lucy Saxon thought every morning as she woke up.
When she was little, she would wish on stars. She would wish for whatever her heart desired, sometimes toys, sometimes for people not to leave. She usually got what she wished for. As she grew up, she wished for other things, like love. She wished for someone charming and successful, and she got it in Harold Saxon.
In the past few years, her life had changed enormously. She had gotten married in a whirlwind romance. Her husband was growing in popularity in the race to become Prime Minister. She had always been a little bit lucky, but this was extraordinary. He was extraordinary. He had taken her to the end of the universe and back again in time for tea. Every moment was simply incredible. He was wildly romantic; he was charming; he was successful. He promised her everything: wealth, power, admiration. He didn't have a temper. He didn't tell her lies. He never once went back on a promise to her. Who could possibly reject him?
And yet, something about the whole thing was unsettling. She knew him so well, but, as well as she knew him, she knew that the rest of the world knew absolutely nothing. Everything they had been told was a lie. He hadn't graduated with honors from anywhere, because he wasn't from anywhere. He hadn't been a child prodigy, because he wasn't from this planet, from this time. He had done so much, been so many places, but not what the world was aware of.
No matter, Lucy would tell herself. What he's doing is for everyone's benefit. He's helping all of us, isn't he?
Somewhere inside she knew it wasn't true. Somewhere, buried deep within her, she felt like she was going to regret saying yes to his proposal, playing along with the charade, lying to the public. But it was so much easier to do this. Harold made it so much easier.
Each morning, she would wake up, and he would kiss her before going to make some tea for the both of them. Was that the routine of a bad man? But she had seen him kill; she knew exactly what he was capable of.
Not that fear was keeping her there. If she felt threatened, she wouldn't mind all that much if she died. Let her disappear. Let the media know that such a high-profile man hurt his wife. Let them take him down.
No, Lucy stayed because, even with her doubts, she loved Harold. She didn't know why. She was completely irrational. He was sweet, charming, romantic. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man. She guessed that, when she wished upon a star so long ago, she never specified that he couldn't be power hungry. He just had to love her and be good at what he did. Maybe, she would think to herself, she should be more careful what she wished for in the future.
How very odd. How very, very peculiar.