"The past is never where you think you left it."
― Katherine Anne Porter
Chapter 7: Stage Seven, Sir Puns-a-lot
Susan felt the impact coming more than saw it. Everything moved faster than she could keep track of, until it was over and she hit the ground with a thud.
"Note to self: change time travel agencies," Susan groaned out and rolled onto her back, her stomach still rolling and vision spinning from being zapped by the Weeping Angel.
Susan simply stared at the darkening sky for a moment, wondering what she would see once she stood up. The sun was just setting and there were some fluffy white clouds on the sky. There was no twin moons or different colored suns, either. Nothing to suggest she was anywhere else than on earth. The damned Angel had probably sent her back in time. But how far, she didn't know.
Susan sighed and rubbed her aching forehead. At least it hadn't snapped her neck.
Susan slowly rose up to a sitting position, and saw that she was sitting on a field. Few hundred meters away she could see a dirt road, leading to a small city. From afar, it didn't look that much different from English cities of the 21st century, if it hadn't been for the lack of pavement and cars.
But as it was, the lack of cars or even old fashioned automobiles cued her in. This was much further back than she had anticipated. She might not even be in the 20th century.
Huffing out a curse, she got up, dusted off the dirt from her long black coat, and headed towards the city. Her fears were soon confirmed as she found a newspaper and glanced at the date. September 21st, 1891.
If she remembered correctly, Martha and the Doctor had been undercover in England in November, 1913. They had been hiding from the Family, and it was the only date in the early 20th century that Susan could remember. Sure, the Doctor had been in Cardiff with Charles Dickens somewhere in the 19th century, but that didn't really help her as she couldn't remember the date. That meant that Susan would be stuck here, unless she came across a miracle.
Susan didn't have much time to be worried, because as she turned the corner, there it was. At a street corner. People passed by it as if wasn't even there, and Susan had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn't just hallucinating from all the stress and adrenaline.
The TARDIS, in all her glory, glowing in the twilight.
Susan approached it slowly, her heart hammering at her chest. To her surprise, the doors slid open before she could even touch the blue wooden panels. She lowered her hand, and stepped inside, her mind cloudy as if in a dream.
It's bigger on the inside, a voice whispered in her head. She dutifully ignored it in order to stare around her, wide eyed, until her attention was drawn towards the centre of the room. There was a dark haired man in a tweed jacket and a bow tie glaring the console and muttering about insubordination.
She stared at the 11th Doctor in amazement. It was really him. It was all real. She was inside the bloody TARDIS.
"Oh. My. God," she breathed out and the Doctor turned suddenly, almost falling over.
"What?" He exclaimed, and looked at her, squinting his eyes like she was something suspicious. "Susan, what are you doing here?"
"You're real!" Susan said, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I'm actually inside the TARDIS. Oh my god, this is actually happening!"
"Oh?" The Doctor said, tilting his head. "Wait! How are you here...?" He said, circling her. "When are you here?"
Susan took a deep breath to calm herself, trying to get over the fact that she was talking to the Doctor. "Got zapped by an angel," she said and shrugged, giving him her best smile despite her situation. "I'm kinda lost in the wrong century."
The expression on the Doctor's face cleared. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "That explains it." He started pressing buttons and pulling levers around the console, all the while nodding to himself. "You always were sketchy on the details..."
"Details of what?" Susan said, peering into the screen over the Doctor's shoulder. "Are you taking me home?"
The Doctor stopped. "Unfortunately that isn't possible," he explained, his shoulders drooping. "I've gone through the numbers a million times but it's just not doable. I'm sorry."
"Eh," Susan said, shrugging. "Don't worry about it. I actually meant if you could give me a lift back to 2008."
The Doctor gave her a strange look. "Right."
Susan stared at him for a moment, then as the implications of his words set in, she raised an eyebrow. "Wait, do you know me?"
"It's complicated," he said, pulling a lever to start the flight. The TARDIS rumbled beneath their feet. "Wibbly wobbly-"
"-Timey wimey," Susan continued, giving him a rueful grin. "Okay."
Once again, the Doctor leveled her with a strange look. "That's it? No more questions?"
Susan crossed her arms. "What, were you going to say, 'Spoilers'?"
The Doctor looked away and huffed.
"You were, weren't you?" Susan grinned.
"You never let me have any fun," the Doctor groaned. "And you're right at the start, too! Not fair..."
Susan frowned at him, then shook her head. "Alright," she said, and changed he pose into a comical one, acting like she couldn't believe what was happening. raising her hands to her chest in distress. "What, do you mean you know me? How is this possible? If only there were a simple explanation for this... like time travel!"
The Doctor grinned at her. "Spoilers," he said and winked.
Susan laughed.
The Doctor explained that they had simply met each other out of order this time.
"Bit like River Song, actually," he clarified.
"Eh, really?" Susan breathed out, and then scrunched up her nose at the comparison. "I'm not nearly as impressive, though."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow at the deprecating comment, but let it go and didn't elaborate. "I always thought the way you appeared was a bit suspicious," he said, pulling a lever. "But this explains it."
Susan tilted her head. "Appeared where?"
The Doctor glanced at her over his shoulder, grinning. "Farringham, 1913."
Susan blinked. "Are you serious?" she demanded, crossing her arms. "You're just going to drop me off, there?"
"Yup," the Doctor said. "I've already done it in my own timeline, I'm just personally experiencing it now."
Susan looked at him, unconvinced. "Time can be changed."
"Not this one," the Doctor said softly. "And I don't particularly want to, either."
She groaned, rubbing her forehead. "What am I supposed to do there?"
The Doctor smiled. "You'll figure it out," he said, turning back to the console. "You always do."
"Can I at least change before you drop me off?" she said, leveling him with a glare. "I don't want to stand out too much."
The Doctor didn't even look at her, just waved his hand towards one of the corridors. "First door on the right."
Susan sighed, and took the stairs up to the doorway and stepped into the corridor. It was weird, knowing the whole place was at least partially sentient and existed on another dimensional plane from the outside. She opened the first door and it revealed itself to be a bathroom.
She glanced in the mirror and washed the dirt off her face, before changing into something a bit more appropriate.
As she returned to the console room, the Doctor gave her outfit a glance and raised an eyebrow. "Clever," he said.
"Thanks," she muttered dryly and gave him a look. "You know, I'm gonna be a pain in your arse for this. You could have dropped me back in 2008."
The Doctor gave her a wide grin. "Where would the fun in that be?"
The Doctor dropped her off on November 8th, two days before the Family would start arrive and start killing people. Susan waltzed into the school in her three piece suit and a long jacket, a hat on her head that was hiding her hair, all topped with a fake moustache on her face. She was hoping the disguise was enough to pass her off as a man for at least a little while.
She showed her badge to the first person she saw, who promptly fetched Matron Redfern.
"May I ask what this is about, sir?" The matron said, handing the badge back to her.
"I am afraid I cannot disclose any details, ma'm," Susan said, in the lowest voice she could muster, in the most English accent she could manage. "Official Scotland Yard business, you see. I am here to speak to Dr. John Smith."
"Is it really that urgent? He's in the middle of a lecture," the matron said, frowning at Susan.
Susan shrugged. "Then I shall wait," she said, "but he has a personal servant, has he not?" She took a tiny notebook out of her jacket pocket and turned the page. "Martha Jones?"
"What does Miss Jones have to do with this?" the matron asked, her frown deepening. "Surely she has not done anything worthy of the Yard's attention."
Susan shook her head. "I am simply asking because there is a Ms Martha Jones is on record. According to our information she has been in Dr. Smith's family's service for years. As the matter concerns the family, I shall need to speak to her, as well."
The matron kept frowning, but nodded. "I'll show you to the library, one of the servants will bring you some refreshments while you wait," she said and headed towards the stairs. "This way, please."
The library was a beautiful room, although it looked like it's purpose was to serve as a sitting room more than an actual library. As the matron closed the door, Susan took her time browsing the titles on the bookshelves. It seemed to have mostly literary classics and some outdated scientific texts. Well, outdated to her.
'We could take most of these theories apart in a few minutes,' the voice inside her head said.
Oh, now you're talking? Susan thought back, frowning. You haven't bothered on comment on anything in months, not even when I dimension travelled! The most I got out of you was back in the TARDIS, when you made that joke. Where the hell were you?
'Oh you know, around', the voice snarked. 'Because this head is sooo interesting. What do you think? I was asleep.'
You're such an arse, Susan thought, sighing.
'And you're a crazy person who hears voices', the voice remarked back.
"The matron said you wished to speak to me, sir," Martha Jones said as she stepped through the door. She was clearly trying to keep her head and gaze down in a respectful manner, but her curiosity got better of her.
"Ah," Susan said, her eyes widening at the sight of one of her favourite companions. "You must be Miss Jones. Please take a seat."
"What is this about, sir?" Martha said, sitting down.
"I am here to talk to Dr. Smith about some matters concerning his family," Susan said, flashing her psychic paper at her. Martha's face slackened in surprise. "Do you know how long it will take until his lecture ends?"
"It will be another forty-five minutes at least," Martha said, frowning. "But why did you need to speak to me as well?"
Susan gave her a look, then glanced at the door, listening for any footsteps. There were none. She turned back to Martha, and took off her hat. "Because," she said, pulling off the ponytail and revealing her long hair. "I'm not actually with the Scotland Yard."
"What the hell...?" Martha said.
Susan ripped off the moustache and spoke in her normal voice. "Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope," she said and grinned. "I need your help, Martha Jones."
Martha stared at her, eyes wide and her mouth open.
Susan heard footsteps, so she quickly donned the moustache and the hat, bunching up her hair up so that the hat would cover it. Seconds later a servant girl knocked on the door and came in with a tray of tea and biscuits.
"Ah," Susan said in her police officer voice. "Excellent, the tea is here." She took a cup and raised it to eye level, winking at Martha. "Keep calm and drink tea."
