Good news everyone! I finished another chapter! Granted, this one is shorter than the others, but who the fuck cares?! I'm just so happy I finished this part. I mean, that's two chapters in one month! When was the last time I did that, huh? Never? Probably so!

Anyway, enough of my rambling. I hope you enjoy the chapter and I really hope there aren't any errors like there were last time. By the way, big thanks to everyone who told me about those and to everyone who reviewed! I love seeing reviews! If I could live off of them, I totally would!

Flora: Sorry, I still couldn't see the picture (which I really wanna see!) and it's pissing me off as much as it is you. I mean, come on! First piece of fan art I've ever received and I can't even see it?! FML

"Fuck," I hissed, groaning in pain when I shifted from my spot face down on the floor. My head was pounding and something in the back on my mind was telling me it was from sudden, unprepared teleportation. I finally managed to shove myself up into a sitting position to have an unneeded look around the room. My memory of my last few moments on the TARDIS were slightly blurred. The last thing I clearly remembered was The Doctor, Jack and I returning from Japan . . . in the feudal era . . . shit.

"Shit, shit, shit-shit-shit-shit-shit," I snarled under my breath, fisting my hands in my hair and tugging it hard enough to rip several dozen strands out. I bent forward to rest my forehead on my knees, continuing my muttered curses.

I wasn't ready for this. I hadn't prepared . . . mentally, physically . . . especially not emotionally. Did I really have the guts to look into the heart of the TARDIS? What if something went wrong? And how was I supposed to deal with losing my Doctor? My first Doctor? The one I fell for and had traveled with for over a year?

Oh God. What if something about our relationship changed when he regenerated? What if he didn't have the same feelings anymore? Isn't that how it went? New New Doctor, new new thoughts and feelings. Right?

This was definitely a bad time for all of this to come crashing down on me. I still had to survive the game and I had absolutely no clue how I was supposed to do that. I mean, it wasn't like these things hadn't occurred to me before now. The closer and closer we got to the end of Nine, my doubts kept getting worse but I just kept denying it. I didn't want to think about losing what I had, and now that I was here I didn't have a plan and . . .

"Excuse me, miss?"

I looked up, fingers still twisted in my hair, into the face of an older gentleman.

He gave me a sympathetic look. "It's all right . . . it's the transmat. Does your head in."

I just stared at him.

"So, uh . . ." he muttered awkwardly, "what's your name?"

"Dahlia," I said darkly. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to leave. I'm not supposed to be here and I have to find my friends."

He shook his head. "Just remember. Do what the Android says. Don't provoke it. The Android's word is law."

Scowling, I shot back, "No, it is not! I'm not playing this stupid game. I will not be held hostage for someone else's entertainment. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm leaving to go find my friends." Climbing up off the floor, I started toward the door, but halfway there, a female voice stopped me.

"Positions, everyone! Thank you!"

The man grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the woman. "Come on. Hurry up!"

"What? No!" I barked, attempting to yank my arm away. I only succeeded in sending myself off balance, teetering on just my heels before the man yanked me back into a non-falling position.

"Steady now . . ." he mumbled to me.

"That's enough chat!" the loud woman called out again. "Positions! Final call!"

When I finally managed to get a look at the woman, I saw that she was standing next to the deactivated vaporizing robot from the episode. The robot was up a raised platform in front of a half circle of six podiums; four of the podiums had people standing behind them already.

"Good luck!" the woman said, addressing all the contestants.

The man, you know, the one who still had a fucking death grip on my arm, beamed in anticipation, turning his stupid sunshine face towards me.

I took extreme glee in watching his expression falter in the face of my sour expression. "I'm not supposed to be here." He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off, "Yes, I know that there's a podium with my name on it. I'm telling you that I don't give a flying fuck."

Finally, he scowled. "And I'm telling you, I don't care. Now, come on!" He physically drug me up to the podiums, shoving me into place behind the one with my name on its front.

I reared around to cuss him out/kick his ass with a podium but the woman shouted, "Android activated!"

Immediately, I froze in place and turned to the android, fear roiling in my gut as my heart sped up.

The android sprang up, revealing its female-designed face. "Welcome to The Weakest Link!" it said.

I couldn't decide whether to scream or not.

The show's theme music played on.

It was commercial break and I was freaking the fuck out. The podium was creaking under my grip and I swore I could see cracks in its surface. Koschei's watch was a throbbing like an ache at my thigh; he wasn't happy. Normally he didn't have any problem with these types of shows. Right now his rage seemed to be placed with the fact that I was the one in danger, and if I wasn't worried about dying at the moment I would be touched by his sentiment.

"17. . . 16 . . . 15 . . . thank you people," the woman, or floor manager, as I recalled, said. "Transmitting in 12 . . . 11 . . . 10 . . ."

Koschei, what're we going to do? Should I just follow along the story? Rose survived because she had no knowledge of future pop culture, I frantically tried to reason with myself, but when you're in the middle of a life or death game of The Weakest Link and have no actual way of winning, your mind tends to freak out just a bit.

Just leave everything to me, love, he muttered to me. I can give you answers to the questions, but we'll have to keep the correct answers to a minimum since we actually need to survive long enough for your Doctor to get here.

Outside of my head, I started to argue about why I wasn't supposed to be here, but the man from earlier cut me off. "I swear to God, if you start screaming about how you're not supposed to be here, I will make it my mission to get you voted off."

My jaw snapped shut with a clack. Koschei's raging increased, but it was now directed at the man, not just the game in general.

"3, and cue!" the floor manager shouted.

"Let's play The Weakest Link!" the android said. The sound effects played and the lights zoomed in on one guy. "Start the clock. Agorax—the name of which basic food stuff is an anagram of the word beard?"

"Bread," came a shaky voice to my right.

"Correct. Fitch—in the Pan Traffic Calendar, which month comes after Hoob?"

"Is it . . . Clavadoe?"

"No, Pandoff. Dahlia, in maths, what is 258 minus 158?"

"One hundred," I answered automatically, palms sweaty even with such an easy question.

"Correct. Rodrick—"

The man cut the android off, saying, "Bank."

"Which letter of the alphabet appears in the word 'dangle' but not in the word 'gland'?"

Staying silent for a moment, Rodrick finally answered with, "E."

"Correct. Colleen—in social security, what D is the name of the payment given to Martian Drones?"

"Default."

"Correct. Broff—the Great Cobalt Pyramid is built on the remains of which famous Old Earth Institute?"

Biting my lip to keep myself silent because that was one of the few answers that I actually knew, I threw Broff a worried glance, hoping to impossibly send him the correct answer telepathically.

Broff stumbled over his answer, "T-Touchdown . . ?"

"No—Torchwood." Then the 'Anne' Droid started again, turning back to the first person. "Agorax—in language, all five examples of which type of letter appear in the word 'facetious'?"

"Vowels."

"Correct. Fitch—in biology, which blood cells contain iron—red or white?"

"Um . . . white?" he said uncertainly.

I winced at that. I mean, really?

"No, red. Dahlia—in the holovid series 'Jupiter Rising', the Grexnik is married to whom?"

I froze. Shit. "Mother of fuck," I mumbled under my breath.

"No, the correct answer is Lord Drayvole."

What the fuck? That wasn't my fucking answer, you stupid pile of sheet metal! I snarled in my head.

"Rodrick—in maths, what is nine squared?"

"So, Dahlia, what do you actually do?" the Anne Droid asked me conversationally, like we all weren't in a giant game of Be Right or Die.

Giving the camera my best sneer, I snarked, "I travel around through time and space in a blue box and kick ass with my hot alien boyfriend. You know, the usual stuff a young woman does at my age."

"Another way of saying 'unemployed'."

"No, it's a way of saying 'I'll turn you into scrap if you don't shut the fuck up'."

The robot was silent for a moment before asking, "Why Rodrick?"

"Because he's a twat," I said sourly.

Rodrick glared at me, but my vote didn't matter anyway. Almost all the others had voted for Fitch. The Anne Droid slowly turned to her.

"Let me try again, it was the lights and everything—I couldn't think—" Fitch begged breathlessly.

But androids have no mercy. "With three answers wrong, Broff was the weakest link in that round, but—it's votes that count."

"I'm sorry. Oh, please . . . oh God, help me!" Fitch pleaded.

I held back the tears that burned my eyes, but I continued to watch. Rodrick looked away and Broff sobbed as quietly as he could into the board he was holding up.

"Fitch—you are the weakest link. Goodbye!" The android then opened its mouth, firing the weapon that was inside. I watched as Fitch was disintegrated, leaving only smoke behind the podium where she had been standing.

"And we've gone to the adverts. Back in three minutes!" the floor manager shouted.

"This is barbaric," I seethed, gripping the sides of my podium tightly.

Rodrick snorted, "She was the weakest link—she gets disintegrated. Blasted into atoms."

I sneered at him. "She was the weakest link . . . do you hear yourself? This is an entire fucking game station were people who are voted off are murdered on live television! For other people's entertainment! As civilizations advance, they're supposed to grow out of these cruel entertainments, but oh no! Not with the human race! We just love to come full circle with everything!" I was shouting by now and had the attention of nearly everyone on the entire floor. I was about to go for another round when Broff suddenly seemed to burst.

"I'm not playing! I-I can't do this . . ." He whimpered as his tears finally overflowed and left wet trails down his cheeks. Survival instinct seemed to kick in as the Anne Droid turned to face him; Broff leaped from the stage and sprinted to the door. "I'm not—please, somebody let me—"

I was so stupid! Why hadn't I thought of it before?

I fumbled and grappled at my pockets, desperately searching them but only came up with Koschei's watch. Where is it? Where is it? It should be here! I had it in Feudal Japan for Christ's sake! No . . . oh no . . . . My sonic was in the TARDIS. I had been holding it when we had all been snatched up; most likely, I had dropped it when I was teleported.

"You are the weakest link." The Anne Droid took aim once more and fired, disintegrating Broff. "Goodbye."

My hand dug deeply into my pocket to tightly clasp the pulsing watch for some semblance of comfort. Whatever Rodrick said, I ignored it. There really was no way out for me. No cheat codes or extra dialogue, I had to play along and pray my lines were right because if they weren't, I was dead and so was this universe.

One by one, the other contests were disintegrated. The only thing the Anne Droid said to them was, "You are the weakest link. Goodbye!" Rodrick and I were the only ones left. I think his dislike for me had leveled up to him wanting me to be disintegrated. That was all right though, not like I hadn't given him enough reason to. I had been voting for him for every round, always with the same phrase, "Because he's a twat."

"Going to break! Two minutes on the clock! Just a reminder—we've got solar flare activity up in ten!" the floor manager called out.

My gaze swept across the floor, glaring at each individual worker.

"What? Not going to ask me why I haven't been voting for you?" Rodrick asked conceitedly while wiping Colleen's name from his whiteboard. His slimy gaze left trails on my body as he watched me for a reaction.

I didn't look at him. "I already know why," I retorted indifferently. "You want to keep me here until the last round so that it'll be easy for you to win the prize money." I turned to him. "Why do you think I've been voting for you every time the opportunity arises?" Shrugging and looking away from him, I continued, "I have bigger things to worry about than your greed."

Unwinding my muscles from their tense positions, I tried not to think about Agorax's recent despairing scream as he was disintegrated. And then there were two . . . I thought bitterly, scrutinizing the Anne Droid.

"That leaves Dahlia and Rodrick—you're going head-to-head . . . let's play 'The Weakest Link'."

Rodrick and I did not exchange any last parting phrases. Not like I wanted to talk to the sick bastard anyway.

This time the commercial break was skipped over completely; the Anne Droid went straight to asking us both questions.

"Dahlia, in geography, the Grand Central Ravine is named after which Ancient Britain City?"

"York?" I had decided to not even try now. Koschei had been giving me correct answers the entire game (that I had decided to ignore), but now his voice was weak and I could tell just how much energy he was using to keep the connection up and continue to help me.

"No, the correct answer is Sheffield. Rodrick, in literature, the author of Lucky was Jackie who?"

"Stewart?"

"No, the correct answer is Collins. Dahlia, the oldest inhabitant of the Isop Galaxy is the Face of what?"

Not even trying to cover how smug I was, I smiled and answered, "The Face of Boe."

There was a moment of silence. Rodrick took it as a time to gape like a floundering fish.

"That is the correct answer. Rodrick, in history, who was the President of the Red Velvets?"

"Hoshbin Frane."

"That is the correct answer. Dahlia, in food, the dish Gaffabeque originated on which planet?"

"The planet of Who Gives a Fuck?"

"Nope, the correct answer is Lucifer. Rodrick, which measurement of length is said to have been defined by the Emperor Jate as the distance from his nose to his fingertip?"

"Would that be a goffle?"

"No. The correct answer is a paab. Dahlia, in fashion, Stella Pok Baint is famous for what?"

"Men's lingerie?"

"No. The correct answer is hats. Rodrick, in physics, who discovered the Fifteen-Dash-Ten Barric Fields?"

"San . . . Hazeldine."

"No, the correct answer is San Chen. Dahlia, in history, which Icelandic city hosted Murder Spree Twenty?"

I took a deep breath. This was it. The last question before I was 'disintegrated'. A part of me hoped The Doctor would be early. Another part wished I could tell him that I was going to be alright . . .

"Due to my religious beliefs, I request a pencil and paper to write down the answer to this question!" I barked, overcome with a rather ridiculous idea.

"On what grounds?" the Anne Droid demanded.

I furiously thought up a lie. "Speaking the names of Icelandic cities is a sin in my religion and I'd rather not be damned for eternity just because of some stupid game show that I did not wish to be on voluntarily."

The Anne Droid paused to sort through its lines of code and check if I could have this one liberty.

"Request granted."

Hell fuckin' yes! I screamed internally. Some random helper rushed up to hand me the paper and pencil. The timer was ticking down closer and closer to zero so my writing was scrawled more so than usual, but I finished with three seconds to spare. Grinning up at the cameras, I cheerfully stated, "My answer is-I'm dead anyway, so fuck you'."

"No, the correct answer is Pola Ventura."

My pulse sped up and my breathing got heavy. This was it. A ringing started in my ears, blocking out all other sound, even Rodrick's joyous shouts. The fact that I lost didn't faze me; I still had my grin in place. In fact, it was probably looking a bit manic by now. I clenched the paper in my hand, crumpling it.

"DAHLIA!"

The ringing stopped. "Doctor . . ." I whispered, grinning up at him. He was in the doorway, but was now running towards me. "My Doctor . . ."

"Dahlia," the Anne Droid said, "you leave this life with nothing—"

"Stop this game!" Jack hollered.

The Doctor bellowed, "I order you to stop this game!"

The floor manager shoot her head. "We're live on air!"

"Doctor!" I finally managed to scream.

He dashing towards me, face full of desperation and fear. I could see the pleading in his eyes, even from where I stood at my podium. With the paper in hand, I ran towards him, too.

"You are the weakest link."

Not yet, not before I give him this . . . I knew I wouldn't make it if I tried to hand it to him, so I threw it. The ball of paper sailed through the air and, in a panic to catch it, The Doctor fumbled and nearly collapsed in the middle of the game floor.

"Read it!" I shrieked, tears stinging my eyes as I dissolved into sobs. "And don't you dare give up, you stupid—"

I didn't get the finish. The disintegration beam made sure of that.

The Dalek was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes.

I scrambled backwards into a wall when it started towards me. Its plunger was inches away from me when it stopped. I waited for it to say something, anything, mostly likely 'Exterminate!', but still nothing.

Another Dalek appeared behind the first. A small group of the bastards was following him like he was a fucking mother duck.

"Alert! Alert! We are detected!" it screeched.

"It is The Doctor! He has located us!" the Dalek holding me in place replied. "Open communications channel!"

I slid my hand into my pocket and clutched at the watch; it warmed my frozen, clammy hand in response.

The second Dalek swiveled its eyestalk to face me. "The female will stand!"

"Bitch, I'll sit if I fuckin' want to!" I snapped, glaring up at it like a bratty child.

"You will stand or be exterminated!" it retaliated.

Huffing, I stood, holding my chin high and scowling at any Dalek that dared to point its eyestalk at me. A screen-like projection materialized mid-air. The Doctor, Jack, two women, and a man were its main components.

"I will talk to The Doctor first!" the original Dalek screamed.

The Doctor snorted, "Oh, will you? That's nice. Hello!" He waved mockingly, the fake grin he had put in place slowly retreating from his face.

I could tell as soon as he dismissed the Daleks as an immediate threat, because as soon as he did, his eyes slid over to watch me instead of the Dalek. That made me smile.

"The Dalek stratagem nears completion. The fleet is almost ready. You will not intervene."

Rolling my eyes until they nearly popped out of my head, I muttered, "Oh please, The Doctor's basic life motto is I do what I want. Like you idoits could tell him what to do."

"Oh, really? Why's that then?" The Doctor questioned, unfortunately not hearing my radical comeback.

"We have your associate. You will obey or she will be exterminated."

The Doctor looked to me and I could tell he was asking for permission to be the strong male hero that he knew I didn't need. And like the wonderful girlfriend that I am, I nodded my consent.

"No," The Doctor said simply. Jack, the two women, and the man all snapped up straight to gape at him.

Sounding more surprised than other Dalek I had heard before, the first one demanded, "Explain yourself!"

The Doctor shrugged. "I said 'no'."

"What is the meaning of this negative?!"

"No means no, buttercup," I teased, not being able to resist the temptation.

"But she will be destroyed!" the Dalek screeched, hitting a frequency I didn't know it could and nearly destroying my eardrums.

The Doctor slammed his hands down onto the control panel in front of him, leaning in close to the camera. "No! 'Cos this is what I'm gonna do—I'm gonna rescue her! Even though I know she doesn't need rescuing."

I smiled crookedly at that. Oh yes, it was good to be queen.

The Doctor smirked back. "I'm gonna save Dahlia Tombew from the middle of the Dalek Fleet, and then I'm gonna save the Earth, and then just to finish off, I'm gonna wipe every last stinking Dalek outta the sky!"

The Dalek shouted its objections, "But you have no weapons! No defenses! No plan!"

The Doctor grinned. "Yeah. And doesn't that scare you to death?" He focused his attention solely on me again. I met his gaze, standing leisurely amongst a platoon of Daleks without a care in the world.

"Dahlia?"

"Yes, Theta?"

"I'm coming to get you." He paused for a slightly second. His hand was hovering over the button that I knew would disconnect the signal.

I beamed up at him. "You always do."

The Doctor smiled and disconnected.

The Daleks seemed to explode.

"The Doctor is initiating hostile action!" "The stratagem must advance! Begin the invasion of Earth!" "The Doctor will be exterminated!" Everything Dalek on the ship started spinning. Round and round they went, chanting "Exterminate", each time growing louder and louder until all I heard was static.

I just stood there amongst them, not moving a muscle. Why should I worry? My Doctor was coming for me.

Did everyone enjoy the chapter? What? You don't like cliffhangers? Well too bad! You'll have to wait 'til next time! Lol Sorry, I should really go to sleep now before I accidentally piss off some of my readers and they stop reading my story . . . .

So, please review! I love hearing what you guys got to say and I love answering questions! So don't be afraid to ask!