She was sitting crossed leg on the TARDIS floor, playing with her hair mindlessly, her eyes converging on some wires dangerously wretched on the wall she faced. The Doctor was wandering around as regular, jumping occasionally at the thought of another brilliant idea of his.

"Alright, so if I can fix the ionic transformer and the replicator of particles we might be able to...ah yes!" exclaimed he, poking his cheek with the sonic screwdriver.

He then began to pace around the control board pushing a button here and there. Not that the Doctor was tedious to watch, but she was so physically drained she couldn't help herself out of gawking at the metal structure in front of her, neglecting everything the Doctor was saying, not like he was talking to her anyhow.

They had just arrived from a planet called "Forejashetica" located in the nebula "Kirhna" of the south-east of the galaxy "Malw". She knew because the Doctor had made her repeat the names restlessly until she got them right. He somehow had found pleasure in how ridiculous she sounded, mocking her accent.

She had been travelling with him for a good year now, roaming the universe with the last of the Time Lords. Specifically, they met each other the day of the Brexit vote. She was travelling in England, ready to go back to where she was from, when she had seen this peculiar man, racing around the train station flashing a weird instrument on the machines distributing tickets. He then went to her to ask for a chewing gum. Puzzled, she had bequeathed him her whole pack, provoking an excessive cry of satisfaction from the man.

"Hopefully, it will make them go "pop", cheers," had he said, before retreating frantically in a Starbucks.

A few seconds later, she had overheard screams emanating from the coffee shop and an inhuman shriek. Horrified, she reminisced running towards the place the noise came from only to discover chewing gum coating absolutely everything: floor, ceiling, walls, furniture. The only spot it had spared was where the man she had offered her last chewing gum pack stood.

"What the hell," she had stated, staring, incredulous, at the boyish grin forming on his slender face.

Then the pink gluey texture had commenced quivering and he had seized her hand, yelling:

"Run!"

They decamped to safety (if safety there was), escaping this nightmarish creature, later disintegrating it with the entire content of the scanty flask of Whiskey she had purchased in Edinburgh.

"Alcohol IS nasty kids, toxicity so high it slaughters the Hugu right away, imagine your brain cells," he had proclaimed, content, while making a sort of parade around the ash residue of the monster.

She was so stunned; she had pinched herself twice to make sure she was not sleeping. He'd came to her and demanded if she was alright, yet she cannot recall what she had reported to the Doctor, even though he proudly reminds her:

"You're crazy, that's crazy, whatever the hell is that: I'm in."

Ever since they've saved the Earth a couple of dozen times and other planets at least a good thirty. Yet, she still wasn't used to it. She wasn't a sporty person, truthfully she absolutely abhorred the idea of "sweating for fun", but with the Doctor it was different. Well, she was still not a sportive person, but at least she had a reason to run from time to time.

They had just come back from this excursion on Forejashetica and hell did they run. The TARDIS was captured by some stupid yellow space primates and they had to climb a mountain to take it back. The Doctor was thrilled because it indicated that they had accepted them and if they desired to go back they wouldn't attack them with their lengthy toe's nails like they had tried when they first landed. In her case, she was just wholly and undoubtedly drained.

Soon enough, she was resting her head on one of the TARDIS's rigid columns, her eyelids falling frequently to meet each other. Her hand had dropped from her hair and her breathing was deep.

"N. have you seen the hydrogen stocking box, think the TARDIS deserves a snack for being such a good girl," asked the Doctor, caressing the control panel.

Earning no answers, he spun around to see the drowsy girl, barely fighting to stay awake.

"Oh," emitted he, with a warm smile.

Walking to her, he suddenly felt bad for being so demanding. He had dragged her all around Forejashetica for the last week and thinking of it, she hadn't had a good night sleep even before they arrived there. Groaning at his stupidity, he kneeled to be at her height.

"'Think it's time for you to go to sleep, N.," he muttered in an easy tone, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Mmmm," she murmured, her eyes closed.

He couldn't let her sleep on the floor, her flimsy human body would presumably pain her for the next days. Sighing, he captured the girl in his arms and carried her to her quarters, carefully wrapping her exhausted body in fluffy blankets. After cocooning her, he leisurely retreated, watching her sleep with the same amazement he's always had for human's needs.

Oh humans, they are so small in the universe yet so wonderfully unique and interesting.


When she woke up in her bed, she was utterly confused. She didn't know how long she had slept for but the clouds in her mind had somehow vanished and it felt right to be able to think again. Having rested in her dirty clothes, she immediately went to take a shower, taking the opportunity to express her reborn self, she began to sing powerfully assuming the walls of the TARDIS were thoroughly thick and she needn't worrying about the Doctor catching her in the act.

Having finished cleaning herself, she retired and dried her hair, making sure not to look at her reflection in the mirror, then headed to the TARDIS's wardrobe, a towel around her.

The place was gigantic and oddly appeared similar to a thrift shop. It wasn't dusty or cheap but there was something reassuring in the old atmosphere. She particularly enjoyed the 1900's Earth women wear section even though she didn't have the opportunity to wear any of the wonderful apparels yet.

Dressed in a long black skirt and a dull grey camisole, she headed to the control room. The Doctor was surprisingly not there; neither on the floor under. The TARDIS hummed something and she laughed.

"He forgot... a banana in the kitchen, why am I not even surprised."

The TARDIS beeped lightly at a high frequency. Laughter. After a couple a second, the noises became more conventional. It was speaking. She had determined how to understand the TARDIS a couple months ago and remarkably they'd became friends. Their favourite activity was to mock the Doctor.

"He what? Oh my Lord," she chuckled aloud.

The TARDIS lit up a screen, showing her pictures of the Doctor, dressed head-to-toe in a yellow tuxedo with the fruit resembling his outfit in his pocket. She had to admit that even if it appeared ludicrous, he was still handsome, his signature smirk glowing on his face.

N. only got a couple of seconds to admire the pictures until everything shut down. The floor began to shake energetically, knocking her off her balance, her body hitting instantly the cold and firm ground. Her head met the floor first and her vision blurred. The earthquake...well "spacequake" maintained its violence and the wires she was staring at earlier cut loose, throwing sparks of electricity all around. Certain parts of the control board flew precariously around, breaking themselves on the strong columns. It was chaos.

Then black.


An eerie scent in the air and a warm touch woke her up. Blinking, she recognized in the dark a panicked Doctor by her side. His lips were moving but all he was pronouncing was nonsense. The atmosphere was heavy, her head tortured her and her vision hadn't lost its milky constitution.

Gradually, she completely regained consciousness. She sat with soreness in the debris ornating the room, wholly aware of the odd circumstances, subsequently catching clearly what the Doctor was saying.

"Lumi ano qusa kerano quil haw," he was repeating, alarmed, breathless.

The realization stunned her, but she wouldn't consider it.

"What? What are you saying, Doctor," she questioned, dread crushing her guts.

"Lumi ano qusa kerano quil haw, ju," he renewed, his face contracted in confusion, a bead of sweat gliding on his bruised forehead.

Either, she bumped her head quite firmly or he wasn't conversing in her language anymore. She breathed with difficulty, trying to maintain collected.

Nevertheless, the subsequent few minutes proved her imagination hadn't tricked her. She couldn't comprehend a single term he was saying.

All was too clear now: The TARDIS's translating telepathic field had succumbed to the catastrophe.