A/N: Well, things should start getting interesting very soon...

Doctor Who and the Threads of Time

Part four: St Albans Space Bazaar, Wild Space/Alliance Fringe, Late 'October', 2518.

Romana had not expected to see another of her kind here. Well, not totally true. She had expected to see the Doctor here. If nothing else the Doctor was more 'her kind' than anything else. To say she loved him would be an understatement. She'd literally remade herself for him, once she realized that he was not going to ever bridge the gap that existed between them in her first form. She'd thought she had the lives to spare, after all. He was three ahead of her.

Somehow he managed to remain ahead of her, no matter how many alters she spun off in her attempt to get more done at the same time. It was not legal, but it was her right as president in such extreme conditions such as this, to use her lives for the good of Gallifrey. She didn't have the choice but to live more than one life at a time. Although she would bet that the Doctor would accuse her of having a bad case of multiple personality even though she more viewed it as living her life rather more non-linearly than most. Besides by the time this life caught up with the next one it would be too late to do this. By using K-9 and Leela as communication sources and keeping an open bridge with her TARDIS she'd found ways to communicate with her other selves, deliberately crossing lifetimes with them. The Matrix had shown her how to do it.

She wasn't sure if the current Doctor on Gallifrey knew what she was doing, although she was pretty sure he suspected, particularly after she'd regenerated again for no reason other than a personality change. He'd been Lord President, after all. He knew what secrets the Matrix held. She'd claimed that the spell with Rassilon's Visions triggered it, although it was only a partial truth. The Matrix suggested the option and provided a way to created the 'watcher' which was a bit more substantial than a normal Watcher and allowed her to slip away in order to do this work in a body that knew and understood the Doctor better than perhaps any other Time Lord.

She believed the truth of it because this was the body he accepted. This was the one he instructed and lived with. This was the one he traveled with and explored the mysteries of behavior with. This was the one that became his Tyro, his student, his follower, his confident, and his lover. She knew about his bonded, even though he never spoke of them. Even though she never was allowed to sink that deep into his mind. She knew in the end, about his Verity, his TARDIS that was more than just a ship, and how they had crossed the bounds between species in the most intimate of ways. She knew that he offered her more than all the knowledge at the Academy. A truth that could not be denied. Everything he'd taught her, both good and bad, both legal and not, she accepted because he was the one showing her these impossible things. He'd taught her the flow of the universe, the dance of the stars, the pattern of history that she'd not seen before. He'd helped her live. He'd pulled her out of the dusty unchanging weight of what was 'proper' and set her free. And then the summons had come for her to go home. She realized that she didn't want to leave. Not like that. But they parted anyhow, and she'd learned lessons of her own, ones he hadn't meant for her to learn yet. E-space changed her. The War changed her. The Doctor changed her.

She preferred to deal with his various lives in this form, shuffling her duties to allow her to zip from one incarnation to another of his with ease. Her other lives were carefully kept away from him, doing other duties for the war effort that the Doctor need not know about. So she had come here, expecting to see the Doctor, but never in her wildest dreams had she allowed for this... This person, the one below her, staring up at her, she had not even looked to see if there were signs of him before deciding to come here. His presence completely blew her away. It was like having a singularity open up right in front of her eyes and hovering there in space. It was like seeing the Untempered Schism appear out of nowhere. He clearly had somehow broken his reflect link to the rest of them, and yet she was more concerned that she did not have a clue as to who he was. For Time Lords and Ladies were told that they always would know each other, no matter what happened, which face they wore, any time and any place. Considering she had not been aware of him until someone else moved into his personal space that she'd been keeping an eye on was, in short, alarming.

She couldn't feel him. It was almost as if he wasn't there, but she knew he was. Even as she felt the pull of his power, so much greater than anything else she was aware of, she still couldn't feel him in her mind. She couldn't locate that link that should have joined them instinctively. But he was a Time Lord. Two hearts, correct chemical signature for their shared species, jam packed with artron energy that indicated a very long breadth of time travel... She had no doubt that he was the same species as herself. But the fact remained that he did not trigger a synaptic response that would indicate he was one. Most odd. Most dangerous. What did his presence here mean?

She couldn't read his biodata. Well it sort of figured that she couldn't with his current state. There was no doubt that he'd formed some sort of major attachments with lesser beings, turning his back on their kind. And he'd done so brazenly. Why? How had he been able to break so many of the laws of time and remain sane? Not to mention free. Could it be that his ability made those Time Lords watching the Web overlook him? Or was it the fact that he hid here, in the beginnings of the later Human era that had so many other Time aware beings present that the watching Time Lords tended to avoid it? It was sinister all the same, to see such overt evidence of his disregard for custom. Like a slap across the face, really. Like he was shouting out his defiance. Not only was he hidden in mind, but she had no way of picking out from his body as to who he was related to, which family he came from, how old he was or how many regenerations he'd used. As far as she knew he was completely timeless. And that was bothersome.

She'd known about his helpers though. The power woven around them marking them as his Bonded, his Tyro, his Companions, was unmistakable. Both TARDIS and Lord had hands in their shaping, and she hadn't seen such a thing before. It was as though they formed a 'mini-web' a substitute set or reflect links, heavily controlled and blocked by the TTC. Somehow they'd found a balance, a delicate point of time and space that kept the entire risky thing from unraveling. It would be impossible to mimic, but likely the one thing that kept them all sane was their careful balance of opposite forces. Earth to air, fire to water, aether to void... the ultimate double-triad, expounded into a prime of some unknown number. And she could tell that there was some generic bleed-through occurring with them, as though they were absorbing things they shouldn't be, or perhaps the TARDIS was over zealous in it's adaptations with them. Or they had been given the retro-DNA serum...

Whatever had been done, she couldn't read them either, not enough to peg down their pasts at least. Not even the youngest one. She could see them, though. The red headed man she spotted first was loosely connected, but had been present during some outpouring or another of power. The boy with the brilliant smile was hard to even look at, with the fractures of time around him. And coming up on her was three females. Two of them were very powerfully and deeply connected with both each other and the Time Lord on the lower level. The third was more distantly tied, but she could sense that the young woman had accepted a transfusion of blood or healing energy at some point over the last couple of years, likely within the last fifteen months or so. Her body released similar pheromones as a Time Lady might, although with a stronger human overtone.

All of them seemed to work in concert. It's only after she'd been caught that she realized they had distracted her and directed her attention to what the Time Lord wanted her to see. There was clear evidence that they could communicate with each other on a level that didn't even tip off her awareness. Such an intense ability required extremely deep bonds. The sort of bonds that were definitely not legal for Time Lords to be forging with lesser species. And he showed absolutely no fear at being seen. If anything it almost was as though she were the one in the wrong.

Most astonishing though was the fact that he was very clearly heavy with child. This wouldn't have been as much of a surprise if said individual had been female. However, this was very definitely a Time Lord, not a Lady she was seeing. His clothing selection was most unusual, consisting of a regional costume that was little more than a over-sized woolen blanket, pleated across the back and fashioned with a belt over a loose tunic that flowed over his swollen form. The front of the upper part of the plaid was looped diagonally over his upper body, serving to somewhat hide the sheer shocking size of his girth, compared to his rather lean limbs and hands. He looked like he had a beach ball stuffed under his tunic, actually. And she knew better.

His intense stormy blue eyes pinned her down like an insect in a preserving tray. She felt as though this male, powerful beyond anything she'd ever sensed before, could flay her open just with his gaze. And then the ruddy-amber haired boy moved more in front of him blocking her view just a bit, and she could realized the Temporal signature around him was her own, although that was shifting, cracking, as the past tried to mutate around them and failed because of the raw ability pouring off the mysterious and rogue Time Lord in the center of the tempest. She suddenly had a very, very odd feeling. She knew she shouldn't be here. This should not be happening.

She went to flee, her right hand landing on her left wrist, only to find that the Time Ring was no longer there. Instead was a grip of strong but oddly warmed fingers, the single pulse of which might make her think of a human although the scent was anything but. Romana gazed into the eyes of the dangerous young lady, more than a girl definitely, holding onto her arm, the device she'd snagged off it in her other hand, "Lei-yu says you are to come with us." The grip on her wrist felt strong enough to snap bone. This individual had been trained as a warrior or an assassin and knew full well how to take her down. Whether this was because the mysterious 'Lei-yu' was telling her at the moment how to drop a full Time Lady/Lord to their knees or if it were something she knew instinctively, Romana had no clue. The two humans with her effectively blocked any escape she might have had without causing overly massive attention to focus on them. Since she knew she shouldn't be here, she wanted to avoid that at all costs. "I will not hesitate to carry you," the dark headed, slim woman informed her. Having little choice, the better part of valor here was to go willingly with these three other women down the stairs.

"I'm just here to meet someone," she tried as they moved to the way down to the lower level. "I'm not a threat to this 'Lei-yu', whoever he is. You can let go of my arm now." Instead of that being effective the human with artificially lightened hair took her other hand while the dark haired one shifted her grip from her wrist to her fingers, tightly holding her in such a way to crush her hand if she resisted. The surge of energy that jolted between the two, with her in the middle made Romana swivel her head to stare first at one set of brown eyes then at the other.

"That's not the full truth," the two women said in unison. The Time Lady heard TARDIS song flitting against her mind, completely foreign, as it was filtered through the brains of these two clearly more-than-human females. They were on the stairs now, and she lacked the option to pull away without creating a huge scene. Fear surged through her. Nothing like this was possible as far as she knew, she'd never encountered anything similar before. The third female with these two had a natural low level psychic ability too, but nothing nearly as strong as what she was getting from the pair holding her hands. Who is the Time Lord commanding these young women?

River maintained her grip, glad that she'd not been forced to lash out at the individual Jon wanted corralled and brought before him. She knew that normally he'd have handled this alone. His current state rather prevented such risky behaviors however. She didn't mind helping here. As they reached him she handed off the thick bracelet-like metal/coral cuff that she knew was a time travel device to him. Only on taking it from her did he look away from the Time Lady it belonged to. His pale fingers caressed the surface for a moment, before it disappeared into the folds of his clothes. The woman jerked a bit in her and Rose's grip pulling the more human of them slightly off balance. The glare that passed between Time Lord and Time Lady would peel paint, although both seemed immune to the power of it. Finally the tan garbed woman said, "Give that back."

The older, wiser, and far more powerful Doctor had but one word for his one time assistant, "No." He of course knew exactly who this was and the point of the when it was for her, too. She'd desperately swapped regenerations trying to win a War that had only one possible outcome. He knew this now. He needed to inform her somehow that her current plans were greatly flawed. Preventing certain things from happening would depend on how well she listened now. Romana too could fall into the category of making different choices. He needn't be so alone in the aftermath of the War. Clearly their 'ultimate' weapon was flawed in some major ways. It had to be for her to even accidentally cross paths with him. Jacob remained near his side, touching him. While not necessary to protect the boy, it served to settle his own nerves.

"Look, I don't know who you are, or why I can't read you... But you must give me the Time Ring back," the blond double-hearted woman insisted.

He smirked at her, "Actually, I don't." He could get rid of the parasite, now. It would willingly flow into this offered way out of him, weakened as it was. But he'd rather kill it, and finding individuals that this particular Time Lady would willingly allow into her mind would be damn near impossible.

She sputtered in rage, "How dare you! Do you have any idea who I am?"

"I'd know you any where and any when, my Lady President Romanadvoratrelundar. I'm fairly sure your mucking about in time here is possible because of some interesting jiggery-pokery with your regenerations. Using Mother like you are is bound to cause problems." She shied back from him as he leaned forward, "And don't try playing innocent. I know what you are capable of. I've seen the evidence of it in ways you can not begin to imagine. Shorting out the minds of mo cèile won't work. We're protected by the Menti Celesti, the power of the Pythia and the Sisterhood, the Guardians, or what's left of them, so don't even try." He wasn't sure why he'd told her such things, but he knew that the shifting past had made it true, the mark of the Dragon on his arm that linked him to Ka Faraq Gatri of legend had been morphed from a simple biotag into a representation of which allies still vested power in him. It carried the linking of the Flame from Karn, the last hopes of the Calabai-Yau, of which the weapon had forced into an infinite point like a dimensional black hole that he somehow kept from swallowing all of reality. It was his will that kept the shimmering line between magic and science from rending the universe into shards of fractured time without any hope of ordered change. And if it weren't for the parasite he'd be tempted to wipe her from the face of it.

And yet... her manipulations had placed him here, and he somehow managed to keep the power in check and retain his sense of right and wrong, most times, no matter how angered he became. Was his urge just? No. Her actions had not been evil. If anything, here was a chance to alter the course of the War, to tell him what was going on and come to some other method of ending it. Or at least save some of his people that hadn't needed to die. With as many Daleks, Skaro allies, and mutants that had survived surely that was an option here.

Romana's cheeks flushed a deep cinnamon in her emotional state, "I'll have to demand that you prove that claim, sir!" He was, perhaps not a big brawny man, but certainly a tall imposing one. Unlike others of their kind this Lord was just oozing power. She knew enough to realize that he was the sort of man that could wipe this entire station from existence in the blink of an eye. He could but somehow she knew he wouldn't. He was not a renegade that caused damage to the timelines just for the hell of it. He was also just as likely to slap her as he was to actually show her anything.

Instead, however, he ignored her, "I've got a contact to make, and I'm already late. You're not going anyplace without the Time Ring, and I happen to know it's not on any sort of timer or self recall. So," he turned away. "Thank you, Saritha, Rose, Kaylee. I think it's under control now and I know you have shopping you wanted to take care of. Jacob, can you give Kaylee the spices please? I really want you to stay with me."

The young ladies holding Romana released her, and the third one took the pulled trolley from the boy who looked downcast. She smiled at him, "Hey don't look so sad, Jacob. I'll split the take with you."

"It ain't the money, Kaylee. 'Sides I beat your record last time," he let off a laugh, "Good luck with that, baby-cheeks."

"Hah, that was beginner's luck!" she marched the stash away and begin trying to sell the bundles.

The Time Lady turned as the two women seemed to shift from dangerous hardened fighters into nothing more than teens being cut loose to play in a shopping mall. It's almost like they forget she's a possible threat because this unknown Time Lord tells them so. She swallowed and then turned back to look at him, "And what am I supposed to do?"

"How am I supposed to tell you that?" the pale skinned man asked in reply.

She frowned, "I can only imagine that you'd know."

His shoulder shrugged, "Might. But there are rules to follow. Main one is: Don't reveal the future." With that he, the older human she'd all but ignored, and the boy all set off across the square to the next lift down.

"You can't do this!" she hollered at his back.

"Doin' it. Don't think you can stop me."

Frustrated now, Romana glanced up at where she knew the Doctor's TARDIS sat then off toward the Time Lord she had no choice but to follow because he had her one way out of here. How had everything gone so pear-shaped? For a heavily pregnant man he seemed to move gracefully enough, with considerable speed. She wondered how long gestation was for him. Loomings took the rough equivalent of 19.5 standard humans months. Leela's gestation had been lessened and the child born with low birthweight. Human bodies just didn't cope well with the needed extra development time for a Gallifreyan brain, not even psychic humans. It sure looked like to her that he was between 18.75 and 19.25 months, which meant he should be having his child any time. What in Rassilon's name was he doing up and about? And why did she suddenly care? Where where his bonded? She was certain that the older male with him was not his spouse. The two young women he referred to as 'mo cèile' could not be the father of his child so there had to be at least one other. The sisterhood insisted that the Old Ways had their bondings in groups, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen... prime numbers. She blinked and found he was paused at the lift, waiting for it to open, turned back to look at her with his intense gaze. 'I'm here to meet the Doctor,' she suddenly found herself saying to him.

His mental voice replied, 'I know. Are you coming with me, or not, Fred?'

She cleared the space then, moving to his side, "Doctor?" but she knew already. He'd lived through use of the final weapon, just as she'd planned. Her ideas were valid. He would live. He was the correct one to place there. "What has happened -"

"Set the wheels in motion, and now they're turnin', Romana. You owe me," he pushed her into the lift, and followed her in. "You know I can't tell you the future. I can't say what you do, or how it ends. I'm not even sure if it has ended. Time's shifting like quicksand around us, but it doesn't change the fact that you owe me for all the shit you put me through."

"I have no idea -"

He cut her off with a glance. He wasn't even thinking of her next incarnation which caused him so much grief. No, he was specifically focused on what was happening here, and now. They rode down through the station in silence for a bit before he said, "You know, I don't usually say this, but I wish I'd told you go fuck yourself when you showed up to send me off to Chimera to 'talk' to Destari. I'd tried to forget what happened there. But finding myself face to face with the end results and the fact that I'd made completely different choices this time, I can't really ignore it now. What happens to Jacob here, Romana. How do you make it better?"

"I'm hoping you, the younger you I'm here to meet, tells me that."

"You know... I'm going to tell you now, Chur ni-duh," he somehow managed to keep his hands off her even though he wanted to slam her hard into the metal wall. Hard enough to dent it and cave in her skull. He was so pissed off that he was seeing blood. "Leave them alone unless they ask you for help, dong ma? Your little stunt might just kill Jamie. At least before I knew he was put back into his own time and was alive. Now – I don't know if he lives or not. Are you pleased with yourself?" He glared at her. Romana took a half step back, blinking. Did he just say what she thought he'd said?

Jacob tugged on his sleeve, "Da?"

"Let me handle this Jacob," he warned the boy.

But his son had been dealing with his mood swings ever since Rich had been whisked away and knew exactly what to say, "You being angry might set you into labor, Màthair. You have to calm down." This seemed to have an instant effect, making the pale man not only pull the boy into a hug but to calm considerably. It did not pass the Doctor's attention that Jacob was using Gàidhlig rather all of the sudden. He made a face at the Time Lady over his son's head.

She was not looking at him however, being focused on the lad instead of the father. The boy reminded her so much of Jamie and the little dark-haired version of the man standing there holding him that it was almost painful. She watched them for a moment, but by the time her eyes drifted up the expression on the Doctor's face was hidden in the boy's hair. She took a shaky breath. Had she been doing the right thing? She no longer knew. What was it that the Doctor mean about Mother? She knew the matrix insisted that she address it as such on occasion. She also knew that there was likely a price for it's help because it had too much at stake to just allow things to happen or to help them along without any other motivation. Her TARDIS warned her about trusting too much, particularly where the ancient Matrix core was concerned. Now the Doctor, a future, post War Doctor, was telling her the same thing. She shivered.

Her house had major problems with instability, personality instability. Heartshaven Cousins formed from Dvora after Morbus tainted the older name, but the flaws within remained. She wondered now if she too had fallen prey to the curse, if her past/future she willfully lived along side one another was in fact the product of her approaching madness. At least having formed this regeneration specifically for the Doctor allowed her one life to see how it should be lived before the ultimate end. "If I told you I was sorry would it help?" she finally asked softly.

The lift door opened, "If I asked you to stop, would you?"

She kept up with him this time as he walked out into the corridor, "No."

"Then you're not sorry, Romana," he wagged a finger at her. "You see the pain but think the eventual win is worth it." he paused to check the door numbers on a small card then set off again, "You lose yourself because all you can see is the overall picture and forget that the tokens on the playing board are people. Thousands of lives with every move, and you never once stop to think about them until it's too late." Then he paused a second before adding, "besides you aren't sure if the plan you follow is your's or Mother's, and therein lies the problem. The Matrix doesn't care if we win or lose, just as long as it survives. And as long as you are listening to it your plans will never be your own."

She made a face, "And you didn't listen to her when you were Lord President?"

"Bloody well fought her every corrupted whisper."

"I don't understand. How can you say you trust me when you clearly don't."

"Is this Mother or Romana I'm speaking to?" he inquired.

"What in Rassilon's name are you talking about?"

He cast her a sideways look, "Can't tell you."

"You can't or you won't, Doctor?" She wanted to slap him. Then she cringed. She couldn't hit him. He was pregnant, for Rassilon's Sake. Suddenly she wanted to make him sit down and stop marching all over the place. Like he'd sit still? The Doctor? Hah, not likely.

He turned and glanced at her, "Can't, won't... same difference. There are Rules, Romana."

Odd, he never followed them before. He was always content to allow others to pick up the pieces behind him, either the CIA or various human groups. She supposed now that he was being more of a sticker on them because he would have to clean up after himself instead. She stopped, "If you lived then we won, right?" She grasped at something, anything, that might justify her treatment of him, "You're here, and you've seen the end. We win?"

He went still, "No." There was a long uncomfortable pause in which she did not dare to breathe or blink. "No one won," it's only after that he glanced back at her, daring to meet her eyes again, that she saw the raw power and burn from the final use of the reflect link when all others willed themselves to his domination. The power had not faded. Having it had not lessened the pain of using it. It had not made him less vengeful, although he'd not been able to fully end the War. Rassilon's calculations had not been perfect. Then again, if even one of the thousand resisted slightly then the results were not going to be as effective as if all of them laid their lives out for him. She knew that something must have gone wrong. Was it another renegade? One of her old advisers changing his mind at the last moment? The Doctor himself refusing the power in total, allowing in that micro-instant, for choice that allowed the enemy to flee if they had mind to? "Telling you changes nothing, because you'll do what you know you must do, and you're not sorry, Romana. If you were you'd find that impossible way to fix it all."

He was a God. He had all of Time, all that was, all the had ever been or could be, at his fingertips. He could see it, feel it, coursing through him with every beat of his hearts. And it burned. Every thought could be reality, every breath could be life or death. Her ability was a mere echo of his. How was it that he avoided being consumed? How was it that he managed to not force events around him into stopping and becoming crystallized forever? She saw now empires burning, both sides horribly burnt by raw plasma, the shattered state of Time as he knew it now, the hanging gloom of the upper dimensions threatening to fold all of the universe back into a single point, the strain of knowing he'd lost it all and the enemy somehow managed to survive with enough power to keep on fighting.

She heard sobs and slowly became aware that they were hers. By the time the flames cleared he had entered the room beyond. He may or may not have cared that she was distraught by what he'd shown her. Romana no longer had the connection to him, to this him, that she once had. The faint ripples of his emptiness washed over her like blackness in the wake of a solar flare. She couldn't stay here. It was more than she could cope with. The Time Lady turned and rushed away, back to where the younger Doctor was. She'd foolishly thought her actions saved him... but how could she call him living with as much pain as he existed in with every passing breath? How could she ameliorate it? How could she prove she was truly sorry? Where would she find that impossible reparation, and how much of reality would it cost to create it?