Chapter Seven: The President
She spread her body across the floor of her TARDIS and just laid there. The phone on the console rang but she left it, knowing who it was. If she even made contact with him he'd be in danger. She didn't know why she had agreed to help them... Maybe because they were offering her her freedom... No. he was worth more than her freedom. Maybe she just wanted to see him. After all, she loved him, ever since they were kids.
The console beeped but she ignored it, not wanting to see what it was. A tear creeped down her cheek but she quickly wiped it away. 'No more crying,' She told herself. Someone cleared their throat behind her and she jumped up.
"President... What are you doing here?" She asked.
"Hello, Artist." He replied, not answering her question. Technically, he wasn't there at all, he was just a hologram.
"May I help you?"
"How's the Doctor?" He asked.
She hesitated. "He's... fine." She replied. "He's very well, actually."
"And how would you know this?"
"Excuse me, sir?" She said.
"How would you know how he is doing if you've left him?" He said calmly.
The Artist became scared. "I'm sorry, sir, I just couldn't do it." She told him.
"Why not?" He asked her, still standing directly in front of her with his hands clasped in front of him.
"Because I... Love him." She replied.
Now he was angry. "You had a job to do and you cannot just quit!" He yelled. "The Doctor is the enemy, Artist!"
"Maybe he isn't!" She yelled back. "Maybe you should take a closer look! He's doing good things, President."
"He is the only thing keeping the rest of us locked in this tiny corner of the universe." He said, not yelling anymore.
"Maybe that's a good thing!" She replied, enraged.
He gasped slightly. "You shall go back to the Doctor." He ordered. "You shall not leave until you get him here."
"Or what?" She asked.
"Or your sentence will be lengthened and I will not grant you your freedom."
"Saving him... is bigger than my freedom." She replied.
The President glared at her for a minute. "If that is what you believe, than let it be so." He gestured to a person who she could not see and then he disappeared.
She was confused. He hadn't told her to come straight back there. He hadn't redirected her TARDIS. He hadn't done anything but gesture out of sight. She stood there for a minute, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did.
She walked over the the console and leaned against it. 'He'll do something and it won't be good.' She thought. 'He's trying to scare. And it's working.' A tear slipped from her eye and she quickly wiped it away. 'No more crying.' She told herself.
She flipped a switch on the TARDIS, directing it back to Earth, and immediately everything went out. It was pitch black inside the TARDIS and dead quiet. The President had killed her TARDIS...
The Artist screamed, outraged. What was she supposed to do now? Nothing worked! She was stuck. "President, wait!" She exclaimed. "You can't just leave me here!"
"Yes I can." His voice replied. "And that's exactly what I'm going to do."
"But..." She started, but broke off not know what to say. "Dad you can't do this!"
a/n: Yes? No? Did I make a good choice in continuing? I know it's short but I'm just trying this out. COMMENT
