Chapter 2: Bittersweet Reunion

Tegan Jovanka, now dubbed Tegan McBane, trudged into her living room in her pink bathrobe and slippers. Though she was nearly in her fifties now, she still struck a striking figure in just her robe; her dark hair now in a graying bob cut. Time had been kind to her, giving her no severe aches or pains—just the psychological pain in her heart she felt each day as she passed her wedding picture or the rooms where her two darling children once slept in; left exactly like it was the day they all left. She had faint wrinkles around her eyes that gave her a sad look about her now that she rarely smiled anymore.

She was about to turn on the tele and watch the cheap sappy soap opera that she planned to lose herself in during their special rerun of the entire season, when she heard a brisk knock on her door.

"Wonder who that could be?" she pondered aloud to no one in particular, heaving herself up out of her comfy chair to her door. Filled with curiously, she popped her head out the door.

"Yes? Can I help you?" She asked politely when she found a serious young man so skinny he was all bony knees and elbows with spiky, tousled hair; his hands shoved in the pockets of his long tan trench coat as he stood on her stoop. He didn't look like any of the farmer's sons who lived near her; that much was for sure, but she had to hold in a laugh when she saw that he was dressed in a nice suit with those sneakers that all the kids were wearing.

"Hello Tegan." He greeted cheerfully as he flashed her a dazzling grin that showed a boyish playfulness she missed about him before.

"Do I know you?" She retorted with some of the fire she once had as she suspiciously eyed this gentleman, who she never laid eyes upon in her life, and who, also, apparently felt he was on friendly enough terms to call her by her first name.

Once again he flashed that ridiculous grin at her as he said, practically beaming to see her, "It's me: The Doctor."

"Doc?" She whispered in disbelief, touching his face to see if he was real flesh and blood.

He was.

Tears flowed from her eyes in a mixture of happiness, sadness, and shear exhaustion from another sleepless night. "Oh Doctor!" She cried, turning away in embarrassment to wipe away the uncontrollable tears from her eyes, "I must look simply frightful!" she said indicating her indifferent choice of attire and hair as she stepped back to let him in.

"You look lovely." He murmured sincerely, giving her a smile so much like the Doctor she knew so well as he looked her squarely in the eye. She discovered in those eyes the playful twinkle of the Doctor she was first introduced to before he sacrificed himself to stop the Master's evil plans.

She led him into the immaculate dining room, utterly spotless; much more like the Tegan he remembered. She brewed herself a cup a coffee as she brought out a buffet of biscuits, crumpets, and strudels. "Hungry?" She asked with a ghost of a smile flecking her lips as she took a sip from her strong drink.

"Actually, very." He admitted with a cute little pout of his lips and a wag of his eyebrows as he sat at the sunken bar counter on a twirling seat.

"Well? Watcha waiting for? Dig in! You look like you barely eat enough, you skinny-ninny!" She barked playfully, cuffing him upside the head, "Eat!"

"Yes Ma'am!" He retorted, making a mockery of a salute if there ever was one. Shoving a good deal of a custard tart in his mouth he muttered something unintangible with bits of custard falling out his mouth on her clean counter, resulting in a sharp glance from her that set him right.

Swallowing heavily before repeating his statement, he said, "I parked the TARDIS in the back garden. I walked to the front door to be polite." He added with a little hopeful grin hoping that would win brownie points in her book before giving his chair a good spin; his long coat, the exact one he wore when she first met him, whipping wildly about him.

"Right should you; coming in here, out-of-no-wheres and such!" She puffed with fake indignity, a smile touching her eyes; giving them that fiery blaze that often glanced angrily at him when she…. before she left. Having satisfied her need to be angry, she slumped against the counter contritely

"What brings you here Doc, I'm sure it's not to just reminisce about old times sake."

He looked at her ruefully and sighed, looking at his hands then looked up at her candidly. "No, I'm not." He said quietly, "Actually, I'm here to ask if I can have the Tempus Crystal back that I gave you; the one you turned into a necklace—"

"--Yes, I know the one." She replied rolling her eyes to the heavens, "I may be getting older but I'm not completely mindless." She said with the old bite back in her voice. Years seemed to fly from her, showing the girl she once was; the girl he once knew.

"Good, then if it isn't much trouble: I'd like to have it back please." He countered, with a confident cock of his head as he gave her that infectious grin of his.

A shadow crossed her brow as she smiled sadly back at him, crossing her arms out of habit "I don't have it." A stab of alarm erupted inside him but he kept his calm as he asked her where it was. "I gave it to my daughter to remember me by…" She said turning away as she felt another wave of tears come against her will; spilling from her eyes like tiny waterfalls. In a spilt second the Doctor was up-and-out of his seat and at her side, hugging her as the whole story poured out.

She didn't marry the captain like she planned when she left. He didn't really like the idea of being tied to just one woman for the rest of his life, so he broke it off

She went into the nearest pub in London in hopes of getting her mind off the betrayal when she heard a local boy band playing loudly. The lead singer was hot with his long dark hair tied back into a ponytail, a pair of aviator glasses and a pair of tight jeans showing off the tight muscles underneath. There was something cool about him, different than the other wannabe rocker boys.

She moved close to the stage to get a better look at the group and especially the hottie singer. Much to her surprise, he seemed interested in her as well as she sat near the stage. In-between sets, he sidled up to her with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a sexy smile like something out of one of those American Western films. When he said hello it sent instant chills through her at his sexy southern American accent. There's no other word to describe him, just 'sexy'.

They started talking—it was instant attraction. Before long she had heard his life story in a nutshell in a-half-hour's-time: from a prominent southern family known for their engineering genius and such, so they sent him off to Oxford to study with the best of the business even though he wanted nothing to do with 'that life' as he called it and wanted to just perform. He was graduating in two months with his full degree and set to go back unless he finds 'a good reason to stay' he stated meaningfully to her.

She was holding up pretty well under the circumstances; getting her heart ripped out and looking for some sympathy and then finding this delicious specimen of masculinity practically dropped onto her lap wanting something more than just to share a crumpet with her. She knew she was in trouble when he whipped off those sunglasses and took her hand as he looked her in the eye unflinching. He had these piercing green eyes that made her feel like he could look right into her heart and feel her pain and longing or at least read her thoughts about him.

With a smile he pulled her onto the dance floor, by chance being a great slow dance that could really get you in the mood for love. He held her so gently, like he was afraid of breaking her if he held her too tight. She couldn't help but feel the heat bubbling up inside her at being so close to him.

She was noticing little things about him that made him even more perfect: his eyes were only for her, so tender and understanding; he was ditching playing with his band mates to dance with her; and the most dangerous of all: he had really sensual lips that she was aching to kiss.

She knew then that she was in love. Really in love. From there it just snowballed. They got married shortly after his graduation, a simple gathering of friends and family. The more she found out about him, the deeper she fell.

She knew this love was forever when she told him the news that he had to cancel his tour with his band because she was pregnant with his kid and he fell to his knees and cried; not bitter tears, but tears of joy. He sang to the heavens that he was going to be a dad and didn't care what he had to give up for them to become a real family. It was so cute how he started writing a lullaby for any occasion; trying them out on the growing baby in her belly and waiting for one kick for yes, two for no.

Nine months to the day from their wedding day, little Jaime was born, named after her father when she wailed like a rock star at the doctors until her daddy held her and sang her, softly, her special lullaby. She became the center of both their lives, their love strengthening as they teamed up to raise her the best they could. Her grandparents doted on her heavily; sending the best of anything that looked totally cute from his parents and helping out where they could from hers.

She was the most beautiful baby ever; taking the best of her parents and none of their bad attributes almost as if she absorbed their good looks and added them together to make something breathtaking. She had her mother's color hair but her father's thickness. She had his lips and her cute nose. She may not have gotten her father's stunning eyes but she had his ability to pierce into your soul with a single look.

She wasn't just beautiful; she was amazingly talented as well. She mastered the piano at the age of four and was writing songs along side her daddy; picking up instruments like they were books and mastering them in as little as an hour's play.

Then came little Jesse, mummy's joy. He was so helpful, practically clinging to her leg as soon as he could walk. Where Jaime was avidly independent; he couldn't stand to leave his mother's side. Even being total opposites and now having to share her family's love, Jaime was a good older sister, even helping him strike-out on his own; soon he was a normal raging three year old tearing around the house with his big sis.

Ever since they were young, mum would recant her tales with the Doctor to her children: often leaving them waiting breathlessly for the next part of the story the following night. As they grew up, the Doctor became their "constant companion", taking them on fantastic adventures of their own or perhaps a reenactment of some of the better stories mum told.

They had hundreds of simple children's drawings and pictures of their adventures; Tegan showed the Doctor, most of them still plastered to their bedroom walls. One year Jaime made her brother a Stuffed Doctor, complete with a mop of blonde hair and dressed in a cricket uniform she made for him of his favorite team— even making a little stick of celery to stick to his suit.

James didn't approve of how 'obsessed' they were becoming of mere 'bedtime tales told just to get them to go to sleep'. That's where their perfect marriage started to have its cracks. Soon fights were started when she insisted they were true stories.

"He refused to listen to me or look at the necklace I made from the crystal you gave me. He simply wouldn't look me in the eyes anymore whenever 'the Doctor' came into conversation." She sobbed as she clutched one of her daughter's dolls to her chest as if it could fill the void in her heart as they sat on the floor in the children's room.

The kids were unaffected by the fighting, left to imagine what they would as long as it didn't get too out-of-hand. Jaime usually played the Doctor because she was the eldest, but occasionally, she let him control the game. It was one of those times when 'The Accident' happened that cost her son's life and her marriage.

James, mad with grief, blamed her and her 'delusions of adventure' for Jesse's death. Clutching six year old Jaime to him, to the point of it getting suffocating, he declared that he was leaving for America the next day and he was taking Jaime with him because it was too dangerous to leave her with an insane mother.

He left with Jaime to go to a hotel for the night, coming back alone to pack his and her bags. When he went to the bathroom, Tegan snuck over to her daughter's pack and slipped her necklace and diary of her exploits into her teddy bear that was her and mummy's secret hiding spot from daddy. On the last page of her diary, she wrote that she wanted her the necklace to remember her by and the diary to remind her to follow her heart and that daddy must never ever see them or the magic linking them together would break, she added with a poetic flourish.

She hadn't heard from him since he called to let her know they were settled in at their apartment in New York City.

The Doctor could tell that she had been dying to tell the tale to someone, at least someone who would believe her and maybe understand. She looked both relieved and so drained when she was finished. She had told him everything about Jaime; showed him every moment of her life, recanted every story, showing every video and picture she had of her and her little brother. He felt as if he was there at every step—like a doting uncle or something.

It was time now for him to leave; armed with more information about a person, he never even met before, than he ever thought possible. It was time for him to find her; not only to get the crystal, but also to reunite an aching mother with her beloved daughter and maybe even proving himself real to the hateful James McBane if he had to.

"How old would she be now? A teenager?" the Doctor asked gently one evening as he thumbed through Jaime's baby book, stopping on the page displaying the clump of hair saved from her first haircut as Tegan took deep draughts from her coffee cup.

"No," she coughed nonchalantly, "She'd be twenty-two years, seven months, and twenty-two days today." Noticing his sympathetic look, she said, "A mother keeps track of these things."

There was a pause of acknowledgement between them that it was time for them to part. He got up to leave, taking a bag of her gingersnaps she made that morning for the trip. He made it to the door when he heard her scramble to her feet as she ran to him with a desperate look.

"I don't expect miracles, Doc" she said sheepishly, "I know she's a woman now, not needing a mother anymore but…" she let her sentence trail, no need for words.

He leaned against the doorframe with a lazy smile "It is my understanding that no matter what age you are, you always need your mother." He said confidently, "besides, doing miracles is what I do best— you should know that" he added with a cocky smirk before disappearing into the night, slipping a clipping of Jaime's baby hair into his jacket pocket.

The Doctor entered his utterly familiar TARDIS, taking out the baby hair carefully; praying that Tegan will understand when she found a clump of her precious daughter's hair gone as he placed it in a special scanner. It collected the data he needed to pinpoint a location on her, via DNA, right down to the very building she'd be in at that very moment. "God I love technology." He mused happily as he, in-unison, pulled the necessary level to take him there and took a healthy bite from one of her gingersnaps.