Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who
Deep Breath – Part Three
Somewhere in London, in an alleyway, a very bedraggled Doctor was rifling through trash, looking for something very important…a pair of shoes. "I really don't think you're going to find any in this mess" Romana commented, feeling immensely foolish and annoyed with herself. Had the Doctor's regeneration affected her as well through their bond? It seemed so, because she was acting almost as irrationally and impulsively as he was. She'd taken her shoes off and jumped into the Thames after him, and now…now she had no shoes.
She still had socks, which were now waterlogged, and she was currently in the process of trying to wring them out. The streets of Victorian London were really not the sort of place one wanted to walk around near barefoot, and she hadn't had a chance to dry off or warm up…neither had the Doctor. It was rather sweet, really; when she'd offered him her jacket, after wringing it out as much as she could, he'd refused and told her to keep it, and now here he was trying to find her some shoes to wear.
Noises at the end of the alley made her look up, seeing an intoxicated tramp stumble into it. The man looked at her and the Doctor in abject confusion, glancing down at the beer bottle in his hand before dropping it in his inebriated state. "Did you have to drop that?" Romana asked in exasperation, seeing the glass shatter, "I have no shoes". Her voice alerted the Doctor to the fact that they were no longer alone, and he rounded on the tramp. "Do you have shoes?"
"What?" the tramp asked in bewilderment. "Do. You. Have. Shoes?" the Doctor asked again, speaking slowly and exaggeratedly as if talking to a deaf person, or an idiot. "He wants you to give me your shoes" Romana explained, figuring it would be easier to just say it and get it over with. "I'm Romana, by the way, this is my husband, the Doctor, and your name is?"
"Uh, Barney, ma'am" he replied, in control of his faculties enough to realise he ought to be civil to a woman. "Barney, shoes, now" the Doctor said snappily, "she's wet and she needs shoes. I need something too, something warm. Clothes, I need clothes, and a long scarf. No, no, move on from that, it looked stupid" he rambled, leaving Barney completely bewildered. "Have you seen this face?" the Doctor asked him suddenly. Barney shook his head. "Are you sure?" the Doctor pressed.
"Sir, I have never seen that face" Barney said nervously, thinking the man was mad. The Doctor turned to Romana and asked her the same question. "No, but I'm guessing that you have" she surmised. After all, the Doctor didn't like unimportant questions, so if he was asking about his face, it meant that his face was important somehow. The Doctor turned away and started pacing. "It's funny, because I'm sure that I have. You know, I never know where the faces come from. They just pop up. Zap. Faces like this one".
He spotted a cracked, discarded mirror and picked it up, wiping some grime off of it before standing next to Barney and holding it up. "Look it at, look, look, look; it's covered in lines, but I didn't do the frowning. Who frowned me this face?" he wondered. Romana smiled in mild amusement. "You sound like Clara" she told the Doctor, "she was wondering the same thing earlier".
The Doctor nodded absently, still studying his reflection. "Do you ever look in the mirror and think I've seen that face before?" he asked Barney, who blinked and hesitantly replied, "…Yes".
"Really, when?"
"…Well, every time I look in the mirror".
"Oh, yes, yes, yes. Fair enough. Good point. My face is fresh on, though".
"Err…" Barney started to edge away from the Doctor, who ignored him and turned to Romana. "Why this one?" he asked her, gesturing to his features, "Why did I choose this face? It's like I'm trying to tell myself something. Like I'm trying to make a point. But what is so important that I can't just tell myself what I'm thinking?"
"Well, either your subconscious is trying to communicate something your conscious mind isn't properly aware of yet, or, and I think this is the more likely scenario, you're imagining that you've seen this face before and worrying over nothing".
"Do you like it?"
"Your face? I don't think what you look like matters, dear".
"I don't like it. Well, it's all right up until the eyebrows. Then it just goes haywire" the Doctor complained, looking in the mirror again, "Look at the eyebrows. These are attack eyebrows. You could take bottle tops off with these" he said, striding over to Barney, who still hadn't managed to leave the alley. Partly because he didn't like the idea of leaving the woman with her mad husband…then again, for all he knew she was mad as well. He nodded quickly, saying "They are mighty eyebrows indeed, sir", hoping the madman might just go away.
"They're cross. They're crosser than the rest of my face. They're independently cross. They probably want to cede from the rest of my face and set up their own independent state of eyebrows. That's Scot. I am Scottish. I've gone Scottish?" the Doctor asked Romana, who was smiling. She did find his ramblings endearing. "Perhaps a little bit of Amy rubbed off on you" she suggested. The Doctor looked rather pleased. "Oh no, that's good. Oh…It's good I'm Scottish. I'm Scottish. I am Scottish. I can complain about things, I can really complain about things. Now, give me your coat" he ordered Barney.
The tramp pulled his thick coat around him tighter and refused, "No". Madman or not, he wasn't just going to give his coat away!
"I am cold".
"I'm cold!"
"I'm cold and she needs shoes. Give me your coat and give her your shoes. Give her your shoes!" he shouted, making Barney flinch, before he stopped advancing on the poor man and turned back to the trash. "No, wait. Shut up, shut up. Shut up. I missed something. It was here, it was here. It was. What was it I saw? What did I see?" he wondered, rifling a bit before pulling out a newspaper. "This is what I saw. Spontaneous combustion" he remembered, showing it to Romana.
A small article detailed the death of one Margaret Roberts, on Friday outside her house, due to spontaneous combustion. "The poor woman" Romana said pityingly. "I don't know what's going on here" the Doctor remarked, "but I probably blame the English".
/
Madam Vastra stood in front of a wood backed panel, arranged on an easel, whilst Jenny held a rather uncomfortable looking pose in her corset and a shawl. The Corsair had returned after receiving a telepathic message from Romana, explaining that she and the Doctor had met a nice (if smelly) man who was helping them get warm, and that she would take care of everything. Right now, all of them except Clara and Emily (who were playing with a chessboard in another room) were discussing the cases.
"I haven't come across 'spontaneous combustion' in centuries" the Corsair commented. Jenny winced a bit, starting to ache, and asked, "Is that like love at first sight?"
"Hmm, a little" Vastra replied, "It is the theory that human beings can, with little or no inducement, simply explode".
"You don't need to flirt with me. We're already married".
"You also have guests" Flavia reminded them, before adding "And besides, spontaneous combustion is nonsense from a scientific standpoint".
Vastra continued to work at her easel and explained, "There have been nine reported incidents of people apparently exploding in the last month".
"And you think whoever burnt the dinosaur burnt them as well" the Corsair figured, sipping at some sherry – it wasn't as good as some nice cold beer. "Nine people, plus the dinosaur, perished in the same spectacular fashion. It seems too great a coincidence for one to ignore" Madam Vastra turned her board around to show newspaper cuttings and a map of London, with lines linking them up. Jenny's eyes narrowed. "I thought you were painting me" she protested.
"I was working".
"Well, why am I posing then?"
"Well, you brighten the room tremendously. Chin up a little" Vastra prompted. Jenny sighed and went back to posing. "I don't understand why I'm doing this".
"Art? Now, why destroy the victims so completely? It's difficult, it draws attention. What advantage is to be gained?"
"Perhaps they meant for it to be a distraction" Flavia suggested. Vastra nodded thoughtfully, and then said "Or perhaps a form of concealment".
"Concealment?" Jenny repeated doubtfully. Her wife admitted "It's a fanciful theory, but it fits the facts. By destroying the body so completely, you conceal what is missing from it" she explained. Jenny glanced at the Corsair and Flavia, who shrugged. "Missing from the body?" she asked, just before Clara and Emily ran into the room. "Look! Mum and dad sent us a message" Emily beamed, as Clara held up a newspaper.
They all gathered around, and she pointed at an advert in the personal column: 'Impossible Girl & E.F.S – Lunch on the Other Side?'
"The other side of what?" Jenny wondered. Clara shrugged and explained, "That's what we were trying to figure out. There's nothing in the rest of the newspaper, no more clues; Emily even did that speed reading thing" she said as the Corsair took the newspaper from her and checked the date on the front page. "There's no way of knowing if it's from the Doctor and Romana" Vastra reasoned. Clara shook her head. "No, it says 'Impossible Girl', that's what he calls me sometimes" she insisted. Emily nodded and added, "Yeah, and E.F.S are my initials – Emily Freya Smith".
"Madam Vastra has a point though" the Corsair remarked, showing them the date, "this is today's newspaper, so how did they get it printed the night before it was going to be sold? Why not just contact Flavia or me telepathically and tell us where they wanted to meet? No, this feels like a trap to me" he insisted. Then Emily took the newspaper back and rifled through it back to the advertisement page. "If it is a trap, it might have been set by whoever burnt the poor dinosaur" she reasoned, "They might lure my mum and dad there as well, and then my dad could kick their butts. I think we should go".
"But Emily, we don't even know what it means, 'on the other side'" Clara reminded her. "The other side of London? It's a bit vague for a trap, isn't it" Jenny said thoughtfully. "The other side of regeneration, perhaps, once he's recovered?" Vastra suggested. The Corsair shook his head and said "He ought to have more or less recovered by now".
"So what are we supposed to do, guess where they want to meet?" Clara asked frustratedly. The Corsair had a good point; they could be walking into a trap, but Emily was right about the Doctor and Romana possibly being lured there as well. "I bet you could work it out, Clara" Emily told her with a supportive smile. Feeling a bit more confident, Clara thought hard. "Your dad isn't complicated, no offence, he really doesn't have the attention span. And Romana would probably stop him from doing something too contrived, so keeping it dead simple…"
She held the newspaper page up to the light, and saw writing on the other side. Of course she realised, flipping the page over and finding another advert, for 'Mancini's Family Restaurant, the Best Diner in London', and an address. "So obvious a human worked it out before us" the Corsair sighed, before adding "No offence, Clara. Okay, I still think this is some kind of trap, but if they only mentioned you and Emily in the advert then they might 'advance their plans' if Flavia and I are there as well. Strax and I will take you there, Flavia, you stay with Madam Vastra and Jenny, act as backup" he instructed.
"Who put you in charge?" Jenny asked a bit indignantly, but the Corsair was already striding off to find Strax. "I guess we're going out for dinner then" Clara said to Emily, who smoothed her skirts out and smiled in eager anticipation.
/
Clara, Emily and the Corsair walked up to the restaurant, peering into see people through the window. "I'll keep watch out here; Emily, call me if there's any trouble" he instructed, tapping his temple. She nodded, and stepped inside with Clara. She then took the human's hand and led her through the tables to a small alcove, where Romana and the Doctor were waiting at a table. "I brought your shoes" she told her mother, taking the boots out of a small handbag she'd borrowed from Jenny.
"Oh, thank you so much, darling" Romana said gratefully, swapping the rather uncomfortably loose shoes she was wearing for her own pair. "Move over, you" she nudged the Doctor, making him shift so Clara and Emily could sit down beside them. "Where did you get that coat?" Clara asked the Doctor, who was wearing an overcoat. "I bought it from a shop. I bought Romana and I some shoes as well" he replied. Clara looked suspicious. "You don't have any money" she protested.
"It was a pawn shop" Romana interjected, "the coat and shoes belonged to the owner and his wife; he swapped his watch for them" she explained, much to Clara's dismay. "No, that watch was beautiful" she sighed. The Doctor nodded. "It was my favourite" he admitted wistfully. Romana turned to Clara and revealed, "Just be glad I convinced him not to swap his watch for a coat from a tramp. I did offer to swap something of mine but he wouldn't let me".
"Yes, because those were your things, not theirs".
"And it was your watch, not theirs".
"Hush. I'd give up everything I own for you" the Doctor told her, his eyes boring into hers, the sheer honesty and conviction in his voice nearly taking her breath away. Clara smiled a little, watching them, they were still obviously in love…then she remembered what had brought her and Emily there, and frowned. Emily noticed and asked, "Clara, what's wrong?"
The Doctor looked over and asked, "Yes, what's the matter? You look cross".
"I'm not cross".
"Are you cross with me?"
"If I was cross then yes, it would be with you".
"And if I hadn't changed my face, would you be cross?"
"I would be cross if I wasn't cross".
"Why?"
"Why? An ordinary person wants to meet someone that they know very well for lunch. What do they do?"
"Well, they probably get in touch and suggest lunch".
"Mmm hmm. Okay, so what sort of person would put a cryptic note in, in a newspaper advert?" Clara asked indignantly. Romana's brow furrowed a little at that, but the Doctor just said "Well, I wouldn't like to say".
"Oh, go on, do say".
"Well, I would say that that person would be an egomaniac, needy, game-player sort of person".
"Ah, thank you. Well, at least that hasn't changed".
"And I don't suppose it ever will".
"No, I don't suppose it will either; but you know, it's you I'm surprised at. I thought you'd stop him from doing something as…as chess-mastery as putting a cryptic note in the newspaper adverts" Clara told Romana. She and the Doctor glanced at one another, one in confusion, and the other in worry. "I thought you put that advert in there" the Doctor replied. Clara shook her head. "No. No, no. I didn't place the ad. You placed the ad" she insisted, and the Doctor frowned. "No, I didn't".
Clara had brought the newspaper page with her and laid it out on the table. "Yes, you placed the ad, I figured it out. Impossible Girl, see? Lunch" she practically stabbed the advert with her finger. The Doctor shook his head and pointed, "No, look, the Impossible -That is a message from the Impossible Girl".
"For the Impossible Girl" Clara maintained, looking up at the Doctor as he did likewise, both of them coming to the same conclusion.
"Ooh…"
"Oh…"
"Well, if neither of us placed that ad, who placed that ad?" the Doctor wondered, but then his words from earlier caught up to Clara. "Hang on. Egomaniac, needy, game-player?" she asked indignantly. Emily interjected to say "The Corsair thought it might be a trap", but Clara was too miffed by the Doctor's apparent slight against her to really think about that. "That was me?" she asked again.
Romana shushed her, and asked Emily, "Where is the Corsair, and Flavia for that matter? Did you two come here alone?" Emily shook her head and pointed towards the door. "He's standing guard outside. He told me to call him if there was trouble…should I?" she wondered. Romana opened her mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by Clara. "No, sorry, hold on a second. You were talking about me?" she hissed at the Doctor, whose eyebrows got just a little crosser.
"Clara, what is happening right now in this restaurant to the four of us is more important than your egomania".
"Nothing is more important than my egomania".
"Right, you actually said that".
"Can we stay on topic, please?" Romana asked a little testily. She hated time-wasting. "It's a vanity trap" the Doctor deduced, "You're so busy congratulating yourself on solving the puzzle, you don't notice that you're sticking your head in a noose. Sorry, dear" he apologised before plucking a hair from her head. She winced and warned him, "That better have been a grey one", but more in a joking manner.
"What are you doing?" Clara asked curiously, keeping her voice low, the gravity of the situation just starting to hit her. "I'm trying to measure the air disturbance in this room" he explained, concentrating on the hair. "It's barely moving" Emily noticed, squinting at the light coloured strand of keratin. The Doctor held the hair below the table edge and let it fall slowly downwards. "There is something extremely wrong with everybody else in this room" he said gravely.
So we should get the Corsair?
We might need him on the outside.
"So what's wrong with them?" asked Clara. The Doctor told her, "Look at them", but when she turned to do that he quickly added, "Don't look!"
"You just said to look at them!"
"Look without looking" he instructed. So Clara eyed the patrons out of the corner of her eye, but she still couldn't see anything amiss. "They look fine to me. They're just eating".
"Are they?"
Clara looked again, and this time, she noticed how the knives and forks were being raised and lowered from plate to mouth repetitively, mechanically, without transferring any food. She swallowed. "Okay, no. No, they're not eating".
"Something else they're not doing…breathing" the Doctor whispered as they all huddled together. "What are we gonna do?" asked Emily. She felt guilty; it had been her idea to come here, step right into a potential trap…yes, it had been because she wanted to see her parents, but she still felt bad. "Not eat, for one thing" Romana murmured in reply. "Hmm. Slightly lost my appetite" Clara admitted, before asking "How long before they notice that we're different?"
"Not long".
"Anything we can do?"
"How long can you hold your breath?"
"We could just casually stroll out of here, like we've changed our minds" suggested Clara. The Doctor nodded slowly. "Happens all the time" he reasoned, and she smiled. "Ha, course it does". They stood up –and so did all the other 'diners', with a clatter of clockwork. The four of them glanced at one another, and took a step forward, only for all the diners to turn towards them. Corsair, stay outside. Don't come in. We might be needing back up soon Romana told the Time Lord outside as they slowly, reluctantly sat back down.
A few moments later he replied, I'll go back to get Madam Vastra and Jenny – good luck. Luck was something they definitely needed, because Romana couldn't see a way out of this. She felt so foolish for letting the Doctor bring her into the restaurant, and not insisting on waiting outside. They could have avoidedall this. It's not your fault, Romana. You weren't to know the Doctor told her firmly.
"What are they?" whispered Clara. The Doctor whispered back, "I don't know. But don't worry, because that's not the question. The question is, what is this restaurant?"
"Okay, what is this restaurant?"
"I don't know".
A waiter appeared at their table, looking at them with an expressionless gaze. "Err, no sausages? Do you?" the Doctor asked, holding up a menu, "And there's no pictures either. Do you have a children's menu? For Emily, I mean" he added. Emily frowned a bit. "I'm not a child though" she protested. The Doctor ignored her. "Liver" the waiter said, monotone.
"I don't like liver".
"Spleen, brain stem, eyes".
"Mmm. Is there a lot of demand for those?" asked Clara, grimacing. The Doctor moved his arm as if stretching, but it was really to try and get in front of Romana and Emily. "I don't think that's what's on the menu. I think we are the menu".
"Lungs, skin".
"Excuse me". The Doctor reached up and pulled off the waiter's face, revealing a metal mesh and a flame behind it. "Okay, robot in a mask" Clara nodded. The Doctor looked at the 'mask' and declared, "It's a face".
"Yeah, it's very convincing".
"No, he means it's an actual face" Romana explained, and Clara flinched. "Yes" the robot said suddenly.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, we have a children's menu" it announced, seeming to look at Emily, who gulped. Then mechanical arms suddenly emerged from the back of their shared seat and clasped the four of them tightly around the arms and waist. The bench began to descend into the floor. "You've got to admire their efficiency" the Doctor commented even as he struggled. "Is it okay if we don't?" Clara huffed as she too wriggled in her bonds.