Beth's POV:

Getting to the roof wasn't as harrowing of an experience as I expected, what we had to do next was probably at this point the scariest thing I'd ever done. You see, I don't normally jump off buildings. Edmund of course did it like he was taking a slight jump off the curb on to the street, when he turned around to look at me I thought I could see him smirking, but it was a long ways away.

"Come on, I'll catch you if you slip," he said as quiet as he could with the distance between us.

I knew I'd written that I wouldn't fall less than a year ago, but actually doing it, that was a whole other story especially when I thought of how many times we would have to do it. I needed to trust him or the whole fantasy I had created at a time that felt like ages ago would shatter. Before I had time to think about it I thrust myself off the roof, locking my mouth shut as not to scream.

The feeling on impact was nothing like I expected, either, the breath knocked out of me as my hands rested on his chest. He's going to have a bruise, I decided because of the terror he put me through (though, in actuality, I put myself through it.) I rolled of him and he looked like he didn't want to let me go, which was a nice idea, but then again, he could just have been in pain, which was just fine with me, too. We climbed to the peak of the gable and slid to the gutter, both of us getting our hands scratched up in the process. This continued for the next five or so roofs until we came to the correct one and I hoped the plan I devised would actually work in reality, not just fiction.

We would have looked more than a mite strange to any passersby, him with one hand clutching the gutter and both feet braced against the wall and me with my feet braced against the gutter, holding on to his wrist (situated between my feet) with both hands. His other, free hand searched for a way to open the window. He looked up at me, pleading.

"The right breast pocket of your jacket," I said, rolling my eyes. He pulled out the object I knew to be a sonic screwdriver, but I recalled that he would not know in the least how to use it so I continued to speak, "Point it at the window, envision it opening and press the button." He obeyed and the whirring I had come to know and love was followed by the sound of a lifting latched. I smiled imperiously, knowing he was glad to have me with him. I knew he noticed my smirk and helped me through the window with a carelessness I had grown to love over the time I had written his character. He probably didn't realize just how well I knew him, his desires, his family tree, his likes, his dislikes, his fears... He took my hand and pulled me forward, squinting to see in the darkness since we had wisely let the curtains fall shut behind us.

"Edmund?" I whispered, enjoying the sensation of his hand around mine.

"Yes?"

"Do you trust me?" He needed to because to get the TARDIS back, we needed to get caught.

"Yes." The word sent shivers down my spine. I let my hand travel up his arm to his shoulder which gave me a pretty good idea where his mouth was, but I would have to pull him down to my level.

The air around us electrified as soon as our lips met. For a second I guess he was so shocked he didn't respond, but my patience was rewarded as he started to react, pulling me closer and lifting me off the ground to his height. Again, all the feelings were more intense since they truly existed in reality, not just my fictions.

Edmund seemed to be everywhere, filling my senses as we kissed. I felt one of his hands wind into my hair while the other kept hold of my waist. "Beth, what are we doing?" he asked against my lips.

"Just trust me," I whispered, doing my best to use his shoulders to support my weight (a great deal less than it had been before in my universe I might add) instead of his one arm, though I'm sure he was quite capable of holding me up for the needed amount of time. I'd been kissed before, a boy from my old junior high had been awarded the honor of that first. Chris had been, I suppose, a good kisser for his age (which was, truth be told, twelve), but he didn't hold a candle to Edmund. I was thinking about what it might feel like to be French kissed when the light flicked on.

"Well, well," a condescending female voice said, "What have we here?" Edmund pulled away from me faster than should be humanly possible and dropped me unceremoniously back on my feet before my slow human brain could register the end of the sensation. The woman had short blonde hair that reminded me of a politician (very Hilary Clinton) and though her eyes were a hazel color they were cold. In her hands she held a box I knew was a scanner, but I'll be damned if I knew how it worked. Her eyes widened and lit up, fixing on Edmund. "Amazing," she breathed, tainted wonder lighting her face.

A man came up behind her and took in the situation, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. He looked at me as one would look at a child, "Miss, I think it might be best if I show you out."

"And let you turn yet another free-willed person into a lab rat? No dice, sunshine." To say he was surprised is a slight understatement, he looked utterly shocked.

"Looks like we'll have to wipe her memory," the woman said, stepping closer.

"Meghan," I began, enjoying her look of astonishment at her name, "Do you really think it's that simple?" My tone was playful and slightly patronizing, the exact thing to provoke Meghan Stark into taking us to the same place the TARDIS was. I smiled as I felt my plan fall into place.

Miss Stark advanced again and Edmund pushed me behind him. "Don't you dare," he growled, a fire lighting behind his chocolate brown eyes. It couldn't be that he cared for me so soon, it was more likely his instinct to protect the innocent, another indicator of his heritage and upbringing.

"I'd like to see you stop me, Timelord." Meghan obviously didn't have any idea where this Timelord had been through the course of his life and he took the challenge with a dangerous smile. He was part human, and a teenager, making him more volatile than the average man of his kind.

Meghan lunged forward and with little more than a flick of his wrist, Edmund sent her sprawling on the floor next to a table of what looked like surgical implements. Their existence caused an unwanted image of Edmund on the large, sterile table that dominated the space, his chest cut open as they explored how the two hearts worked and what would happen if one was taken away. Of course they would do it without the proper dose of anesthetic, the two hearts would get rid of it twice as fast, meaning he would still have some sense of them probing around inside of his chest cavity. The images made me shudder as they always did when pictures of such pain and horrid suffering entered my mind unbidden.

I grabbed hold of his left forearm. "Remember why we're here," I whispered.

"Might I inquire as to what you've done with the TARDIS?" he asked as if he had not just knocked some woman unconscious. Before the scientist could reply a voice floated up from the lower levels, a voice that could strike fear into the hardest of hearts. "Delete."

"Oh, joy," I said dully, "My first battle will be with a cyberman that's been out of commission since the sixties, fighting along side a Timelord who barely knows his own mind and a bunch of vigilante scientists who want to kill us." I was really scared to death since I knew exactly what would happen if we lost this fight.

"Come again?" Edmund twisted toward me, confusion evident in his eyes.

"Cyberman, it'll come to you, I promise," I replied, wondering if this was a promise I could keep.

"How does he not know?" the agent asked, bewildered.

"It's a long story," I told him truthfully, "Suffice it to say he's new at this." I grabbed Edmund's hand and pulled him past the stunned man into the hall.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, jerking his appendage from my grasp. I tried to keep myself from viewing the action as rejection, I had not done something that could be refused.

"Do you want your transportation back or not?" I asked shortly, wishing I was armed, then I ran back into the room from which we had come, stanching up varying sizes of scalpels. It was cliché and a little silly to expect myself to be able to stab someone with them or expect them to help with Cybermen, but it was just to make myself secure. Edmund had already reached the stairs so I ran to catch up with him, stowing my pseudo-knives in my pockets.

"Beth, just in case I don't know, you know how to deal with these creatures, don't you?" The tone with which the question was asked caught me off guard, it was the voice that belonged to the twelve-year-old who didn't know what to say to his siblings when he was finally found, the voice of the thirteen-year-old that felt undervalued by his family, the fourteen-year-old unsure of how to answer his geography teacher, the voice of the sixteen-year-old who didn't know how to commence with destroying some alien life.

"Well, I've got part of a plan," I dodged. I knew from his face he didn't completely believe me, but I truly did. It was the start of a plan, anyway.

A/N: Sorry about the long wait in case anyone was waiting for this, but I had stuff I needed to do for school, severe cases of Writer's Block and a terrible case of Oh-My-Gosh-My-Story-Sucks-And-I-Should-Stop-Trying-To-Write-itis. Also, I had to read The Fault In Our Stars by John Green because I preordered a copy and then there was a Tour de Nerdfighting event, I had original stories I was trying to write and more school stuff. So, I'm sorry to say that these long gaps are to be expected and I apologize for, in my opinion, the awful quality of this chapter, I attempted to edit and I hope my kissing bit wasn't the worst, but for the record, it was written without experience. -Cecelia