Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I don't even own any Doctor Who merchandise, Whoovian in me for shame. I do own Izzy, however, so no stealing. Pssh, who am I kidding? Who would want her?

EDIT: First of all, you know when you go back over your work and suddenly everything looks all wrong? Well, I have no idea if that ever happens to you, but that definitely hit me, big time. I realize that many of you have issue with this chapter and its unrealistic Mary-Sueishness, and so do I. And so this chapter and Izzy's backstory is rewritten, and I hope it will be more realistic. I'm keeping the good parts.

Secondly, I am so sorry for the delay. I myself know that no one likes a flake, and that's what I've been. The first few weeks I was gone was because my dad grounded me from the internet. And recently I've been busy with studying for my 6 AP tests, my birthday, visiting family, college trips, taking my AP tests, studying for ACT and SAT, taking both ACT and SAT, fostering kittens(not as easy-breezy as it seems—they poop. Everywhere.), coping with the extra homework load my teachers dumped on me, and then, well, whenever I have time to fit it in, sleeping. But summer's coming for me, and I looked on my email and finally saw the lovely reviews and decided I needed to stop slouching and get back into it. I will not abandon this story! Also, I apologize for any and all typos, I'm going on 4 hours of sleep and in my rush to submit this, I'm just gonna let Word do its thing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In a mostly understood, halfway comprehensible, very rapid half-rant in typical Doctor-style, Izzy and Martha had picked up on one main idea: they would be staying. Well, he said, it was more of a detour due to the poor quality of their previous trips. The newest companions did not ask him the actual extent of their stay, for they did not want to know. A detour with this alien could mean weeks, months, years, or even forever. And forever seemed a sure possibility when imagination was left to run free, and their imaginations were running wild.

In light of their near-sleepless adventures, it was brought to their attention that beyond just having a bigger-on-the-inside control room, the TARDIS also contained countless rooms and hallways that could change around whenever the ship wished it. There was even a library and a swimming pool, though the Doctor did not make it clear whether they occupied the same room or not. Still, he instructed, it was useless trying to map out the ship in your head, since the room you thought was the bathroom could get up and move off to a different part of the maze to be replaced by a room full of spiders of the nasty sort. He had scolded the ship for doing that before though, so he assured his passengers it was very unlikely such a thing would happen. After detailing this to them in a rapidly spoken ramble that involved a great many other technical things and extraterrestrial references that zoomed right over their heads and crashed rather nastily into the opposite wall, he accordingly showed them to their rooms, which—he claimed—the TARDIS had adjusted to meet their individual preferences.

Martha enjoyed her room immensely, most likely due to the fact that it looked just like her flat and had plenty of choices for make-up. She closed herself off readily, longing for the solitude and general novelty of her new quarters.

Izzy herself was left awe of her temporary home, suspended in the doorway long past when the Doctor had gone back to his fixing in the control room after pointing her in the right direction. It was much less girly than Martha's, the walls a TARDIS blue with brilliant white trim. In place of a lamp the room was lit with beautifully bright fairy lights, allowing the room a magical splendor. The blue theme carried throughout the entire room, save the various wooden instruments that crowded all available space—a white baby grand piano, an acoustic guitar, a violin, a cello, and, although Izzy had no idea how the TARDIS could now she had been taking lessons for it, a beautiful Celtic harp.

Moving in a dream state, with an ear-splitting grin, she fingered the surface of each instrument before spinning in excitement. Her movement landed her facing the open doorway, revealing a curious looking door across the hallway. Feeling bold in her happiness, she walked out of her quarters and to the waiting doorknob, her skin flushed with the possibilities of what lay beyond.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Doctor lay in his familiar place under the console, his long legs and trainers sticking out. He fiddled and fixes circuits and wires that didn't necessarily need repairing, while is mind could dwell on other things. Like the Face of Boe's dying words. What did he mean? He was the last, he knew that. So why was he not alone?

His mind buzzing with questions, as it always was, he forced himself to focus on the present. His fiddling was getting him nowhere, and there was nothing left to distract him. Filled with a sudden curiosity for the goings-on of his passengers, he extracted himself and ventured down the long hallways of the TARDIS, leisurely stroking the walls as he passed.

His hand caught the doorframe of an open room and he peered in. A dark-haired figure stood at the end of the long room. Ah, the dressing room. Rows of various clothing items lined all available wall space, and it looked as though Izzy had found a few she liked. She faced the mirror at the end of the hall, her eyes glued to her reflection. She missed the Doctor's approach, not noticing him until he made a low whistle at her appearance. She started, the fabric of the dress swishing with the movement.

"Now, that is a dress," the Doctor mused with a small grin, "worn by Audrey Hepburn, I believe." The black material formed a sweetheart bust with a thick halter reaching around her neck. A few inches of the floor-length gown pooled at her feet, which she shuffled to fully face him.

Izzy opened her mouth but closed it again with a sigh. "I'm not even going to ask." She turned back to the mirror again, staring hard at her reflection as if it would provide her answers. "Sometimes, when I stare hard enough, I can see her in the mirror."

"Who, Audrey Hepburn?" The Doctor's expression was one of puzzlement.

"No, stupid, not Audrey Hepburn," she rolled her eyes at him in the mirror. Her features glazed over again, "My mum." Sitting down on a shoe bench to the right of her, she looked up at the man with a wistful expression. "She was a musician, you know," she stated, as if he should know that. "Could play anything she picked up. Beautiful, too. Elizabeth Taylor couldn't hold a candle to that woman," she smiled a little with bright eyes. "Da was a scientist at some big military company—he could never tell me which." The Doctor's mouth twitched up at the loving tone in her voice. "It's so funny—they were total opposites: the passionate artist and the clinical scientist. But they loved each other just the same, maybe even more for it, like they were two pieces of one person."

The Doctor's question was light, polite, but it grounded her all the same, "Where are they now?"

Izzy looked down at her hidden feet for a moment before looking up at him again and shrugging. "I don't see them anymore." Her face was too composed, too controlled.

She stood suddenly and made flapping motions with her hands with a joking frown. "Now, shoo! I can't very well get out of this with you in here. Besides, I'm sure Martha's getting lonely."

The Doctor left with a chuckle, hands in pockets, puzzling a bit over Izzy's sudden disclosure. He shook his head and closed the door behind him.

It was time for a new adventure.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: So yeah, it has changed a bit. Hopefully for the better, but now her backstory fits with my original plans for her. I'll probably ask this again at the end of third season, but is anyone interested in seeing Izzy carry on through Donna, and maybe even fifth season? I've been watching the sixth, and I have no idea how she could fit there. But isn't that the beauty of fanfiction? You get to change the rules.

Kærlighed, Ellie