Author's Notes: How's it going? This is an edited version of the first third chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Any similarities to any characters or story lines owned by the BBC are probably intentional.
Magenta slipped out of the room while the Bastard was speaking. In took her all of 5 seconds to figure out that this wasn't the Bastard who had left her, he looked too young. But that didn't stop it from hurting.
"Well, that was a waste." Martha muttered after the lesson had ended. They had followed the trail to a high school, where the students had helpfully directed them to the office, where the Doctor had been offered a job, no questions asked. It was strange, to say the least, and even stranger when the Headmaster had eagerly assumed she was at uni, learning how to teach with no encouragement or suggestion from either of them. Strange.
"No, not at all, isn't it fun to share the knowledge of the universe with the youth-" He cut himself off at Martha's look.
"Could you, I dunno, sense her or something?" Martha asked, waiting for him to pack up all his textbooks and teaching aides.
"Well, for a second I thought someone was in the room. It was really weird though, I couldn't sense her, and I'm assuming it's a her, but she was there at the same time. No, no, no. That was a really bad explanation. When my people were all there, it was like when you were with someone, you could see them and feel their presence as well as feel their mind sort of sit next to yous. But with her, it was like she was there, I knew she was there, but I couldn't feel her mind. Maybe we were wrong, maybe the TARDIS picked up someone from before the war, I dunno. But she disappeared, half a minute after I started talking, she disappeared."
"There was a girl, in the back of the class, she was there when we walked in, but not while you were teaching. I think she was the girl in the photo album." Martha offered helpfully.
"You mean the photo album that brought you to tears?" Martha looked embarrassed and blushed. "Don't worry about it, once my companion's boyfriend let her know he'd been cheating on her with, what was her name? Trisha something. Anyway, I ended up being her personal slave for the rest of the week to stop her from salvaging the relationship." Martha looked at him like he was insane. "What? I didn't like the guy, I used to call him Mickey the Idiot. She deserved much better."
"Someone like you, perhaps?" Martha teased.
"Yep." The Doctor replied, cheerfully popping the 'p'.
"Where'd you go?" Brendan asked Magenta, sliding down into the cheap plastic cafeteria chair next to her.
"Never mind that," Lauren interrupted, "Why'd you go?" Magenta stared at them for a moment, deliberating how to modify her history-that-hasn't-yet-happened with the new teacher.
"That man, the new teacher, was a... friend of mine," She paused. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth. "When I was little. I used to call him 'Uncle John', but I hadn't heard from him in a few years and, um, the last memory I have of him isn't a very fond one."
"What? Did he hurt you or something?" Lauren asked, concerned.
"If he hurt you I'll hunt him down and-" Brendan began, cutting himself off when Magenta narrowed her eyes.
"Nah, s'nuffin like that." Magenta looked alarmed at her momentary change in accent. Her usually perfect 'upper class' sort of accent had turned cockney just for a second, producing a 's'nuffin' from her, which was made even more strange by the fact that English wasn't even her first language. "That was weird. Anyway, he threw me out... basically." Before anyone could threaten him more, she got up. "Yeah, I'm gonna go home, but tell anyone who asks to 'wait and see'." She winked. "It makes everything more fun." She walked off, no one bothering her on her way out.
She had just got everything she needed from her locker when she sighed and closed her eyes, unwittingly releasing some pent-up residual energy. Magenta just kept shoving stuff in her bag before leaving, making sure to pass by the office and say 'bye' to the receptionist. When she got home, she lay down on her couch and closed her eyes. She found it hard to believe that less than 24 hours ago, someone had stabbed her, leading to her regeneration and probably to her near-miss with him. She opened her eyes and frowned. She didn't think her photo album had been on the coffee table this morning. She shrugged it off and picked it up, pulling it onto her lap. Magenta flipped to the second section of it, dug her home-made sonic screwdriver out of her bag and used it to unstick the pages from the adhesive keeping them in there. She spread out the written-on pages and photos out but kept the spares in a pile. She wanted to chronological-ise it and add some more pages. Disappearing into the bedroom, she brought a strange device out. It was like a helmet made of metal, basically, with wires attaching to a Polaroid camera. It was something she'd built a few years ago when she'd started her second section to the album, which basically allowed her to focus on a moment in time, picture and remember it in her mind, then press the button on the camera, and it would take the picture of the frame in her mind. Some of the photos she'd had on her for various reasons, but most of them were mind-shots. She sat back down on the couch and as the paper moved, her heightened senses picked up on a scent that shouldn't be there. Hang on, make that two. One of them she recognised as the Doctor's the other was young, feminine. Maybe that other woman who'd been with him? Wait a minute. She thought and practically ran back to bedroom. Her usually meticulously made bed was rumpled, like someone/s had been lying or sitting on it. She dashed back to front door and examined her locks. One had been picked and the other had been sonicked. Damn. The Doctor had been here, the bastard.
The Doctor and Martha had found their way to the staffroom, where all the other teachers had gathered, and a sadistic old crone from the English department was trying to cover up the evidence of any and all bets placed.
"So," The Headmaster, Mr Gregson, began cheerfully, "how'd it go?"
"It was fine." The Doctor replied vaguely while Martha said nothing. The other teachers looked shocked.
"No troubles at all?" Mr Gregson seemed almost disappointed while a few of the others looked pleased.
"No." The Doctor replied suspiciously. "Should there have been?"
"No," Mr Gregson looked depressed. "None at all." He turned away, digging out his wallet and handing 10 quid to a sadistic English crone. The Doctor still looked suspicious, but left with Martha after not feeling anyone anyway. Now back in the hallway, the Doctor was discretely trying to get some sort of trace. All of a sudden, the pitch of the humming screwdriver changed, signifying that more of the 'residual cellular energy' had been released. Unfortunately for them and fortunately for Magenta, as they were sprinting "inconspicuously" to get to her locker, she had already got her stuff and was walking down the stairwell which was crowded with students. So by the time Martha and the Doctor had gotten there, Magenta was gone and her trail had been corrupted by the milling students in the stairwell.
Martha and the Doctor were sitting in the cafeteria, chatting idly when the doors slammed open and students and teachers alike jumped in surprise. The figure in the doorway was obscured by the angle at which Martha was sitting, but by the expression on the Doctor's face, she was willing to bet it was the rogue Gallifreyan. The students were silent and most of the teachers scurried away. As soon as they were gone, the room was still. The silence was punctuated by the click-clacking of high heels. As the clicking got closer, the students moved away but stayed in the room. The atmosphere was so tense that Martha felt as though she had forgotten how to breathe. The girl was in full sight now, she was recognizably the girl from the photo album, in both sections. She sat down at their table and the room seemed to gasp. The girl lent forward and rested an elbow on the table, supporting her chin with her hand. All of a sudden, she grinned manically and awkwardly hugged the Doctor across the table.
"Johnny!" She exclaimed loudly. "How's it going?" Martha didn't know how to react, but as the other occupants of the cafeteria lent forward, she got the impression she should expect something. "You know," She continued, "you didn't need to break into my flat to get a look at my bedroom." The Doctor was astounded, both by her display and implications.
"Um, who are you?"
"John, really. I know you're old, but I didn't think you'd be having senior moments just yet." The Doctor didn't know how to react. All of a sudden, the resounding slap of flesh hitting flesh resounded around in the silence. The Doctor was holding his cheek.
"Oi! What was the for?"
"That was for moving on so fast from Rose. You remember her, right? Oh yeah, and" She slapped him again. "That was for picking up Donna." She slapped him again. "That was for picking up Martha, no offense." She slapped him one more time. "That was in Jackie's honour for trapping her." She paused and looked around the room. "Gosh, these people really have no lives, do they? Oh well, so I'm gonna drop by... what's it called again? That strip club you frequent? Boys Gone Wild? Anyway, I'll be there later if you'd like to talk about our situation." She casually drummed on her stomach. "See you later." She pranced off to sit at another table and very calmly started a conversation with the people sitting there. The very few teachers who hadn't retreated to the staffroom hurried out, quickly followed by a confused Doctor and an angry Martha. The students started giggling and laughing, a few of them applauded. The people Magenta had sat with had no idea why she was sitting with them or why she looked so stormy, but one timid girl asked "You're not pregnant are you?" (A/N That line break isn't meant to be there but I can't get rid of it.)
Magenta looked at her and replied, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Yeah, actually I am. I've never had sex with him yet somehow, somehow, I'm gonna have his baby. So yes, absolutely." She left, still angry and out for some Timelord blood.
As soon as they were out of the cafeteria, Martha exploded with angry questions, her jealousy overwhelming sense.
"Who is she? Who the hell was Donna? And Jackie? And your 'situation'? What's that? Boys Gone Wild? What the hell was she talking about?"
"I DON'T KNOW!" He screamed at her. "I just," He said quieter, and paused, "I just don't know." He looked really sad. "I finally found another one and it's clear she doesn't want anything to do with me." The doors they had just come out of clicked open, and Martha realised how public they were. She looked at whoever had just joined them and was greeted by the strange girl who may or may not be Gallifreyan. All three were silent while the girl and the Doctor eyed each other off. Finally, she sighed.
"I'm..." She opened and closed her mouth, trying to find put together what she wanted to say. "I suppose I'm kinda sorry. You shouldn't be here, not for another 17 or 18 years. I'm guessing the TARDIS picked up on my regeneration?" The Doctor nodded mutely, like a petulant child refusing to speak to his mother in protest. "That shouldn't have happened, you won't even know me for at least another 3 years." When neither the Doctor nor Martha said anything, she apologised again. "I really am sorry but you and I don't get on very well, Theta." The Doctor's eyes bored into hers.
"How'd you know my old nickname?" He asked suspiciously.
"I know a lot, Doctor, I just did that to get a reaction." She grinned cheekily.
"You look familiar." The Doctor remarked.
"Yeah, well, aparently I look like my mother when I smile." She shook hands with the Doctor, then with Martha. "I'm Magenta."
