Two titanic personalities: the Doctor and the Queen need to spar. I hope you enjoy these little talks.

Challenge

I'd been upgraded from sharing the servants' quarters to a fully-fledged guest room.

Since I got to be alone, that night, I sonicked my way through Hatfield House and snuck out to the livery where Katt, Rolor and Cecon were being held. The house was only guarded in the immediate vicinity of the Queen - exits, staircases, corners near her chamber. The rest was not, and around the livery itself, I could see no one for miles. When I saw the conditions, I could see why. Sure, they kept horses here, in large wooden stalls like normal folk. But the giant stone walls and floors were a dead giveaway that the livery wasn't just a makeshift prison. It was built with the intent of doubling as a prisoner's hold.

It was early in the evening, only nine or so, but plenty dark in the woods.

Rolor, to his credit, had made friends with the horses. This made me like him slightly better. He actually seemed in his element among the creatures, while the other two alternately kept clear of them, or seemed afraid.

As I'd imagined, the men thought I'd come to break them out. I explained, though, about my jaunt into Shakespeare's time with Martha, and why I couldn't just unchain them and run off. They looked at me like I had nine heads.

"So let me get this straight," Cecon said, standing with his legs apart, trying to put it all into perspective. "You want to piss off the Queen?"

"I don't want to," I said. "But my travels tell me that I'm going to. I have to."

"Well, what would make her more angry than breaking her prisoners out?" Katt asked, enthusiastically.

"I can't, Fekom Katt, I'm sorry. It's just that I don't have a clue yet what's going on, and until I do, I have to play the game her way. At the moment, we have nowhere to go because my ship is damaged, and to have the three of you wandering about here and now is so not a good idea. You lot are liable to get killed."

"We'll be careful!" Rolor protested, finally pulling himself away from a white mare whose nose he'd been stroking.

"I don't know if there's any measure of careful that you could possibly be. Do you men know why she's keeping you locked up?"

They looked at each other blankly, then back at me.

I sighed. "She thinks you're here to overthrow her. And it's my fault, because I gave you information that I shouldn't have, but I didn't know that we were going to run into the Queen."

I explained the politics of being Catholic, and having ties to Henry Fitzroy and William the Conqueror. They all groaned in turn, and sat down on various crates and buckets to brood.

"You're supposedly our friend, Doctor," Rolor protested. He was losing points again. "Why doesn't she think you're one of us? Why aren't you locked up in here?"

"Frankly, because she likes me."

"Oh, fantastic," Cecon said, throwing up his hands.

"But I promise," I said emphatically. "As soon as I have a solid plan that won't get us all executed, I'll come back for you. You rescued me, now trust that I will do the same for you."

Fekom Katt shook my hand, palm-to-wrist. "Good faith, Doctor. We'll trust you."

The other two grunted inarticulately, as though they had a choice.

After I left them, I went and communed with my TARDIS, whose pink interior lights had come on dimly. This was good; it meant progress. I apologised to her for getting angry before, I lay down on the metal floor near the console with my hand on the cold metal beneath the controls, and against my will, I fell asleep.

When I snuck out of the TARDIS three hours later, it was with a good feeling that our communing had helped her heal. That's the magic of the Time Lord-TARDIS relationship. We're kindred. Without one another we are lost, and together, we're stronger. It had been ages since I'd simply calmed down and communicated with her alone. I think the kip rejuvenated us both. Good – all the better for us to make a quick departure.

But it also meant that whatever was going to happen with the Queen would happen in short order. I reasoned, the quicker it went, the more brutal it would likely be.

It was around midnight, and the royal household was long-since in for the night. In London, they might still be out and about, but not at Hatfield. Barring any birthdays, this was not a place where the Queen came to party.

I'd just slept for a few hours, and I don't need as much sleep as a human anyhow, so I decided to wander the grounds a bit, while the world was at rest. No harm getting the lay of the land, especially if I was a semi-prisoner here. I'd probably have to break my friends out of the livery someday soon, so yeah, I wanted to know where the hell I was going.

I was passing by an outward alcoved portion of the house, when I heard "Psst."

I looked about, not immediately able to discern where the sound had come from. I heard it again, followed by a voice saying, "Look up!"

I did. The Queen was standing in the window with one arm extended out to open the blurry latticed glass. I reckoned she'd shooed off her ladies-in-waiting tonight, since she was wearing only a corset and the ruffly under-slip which cradled her bosom. Had her ladies been there, they would have dressed her in a white tunic of a night shirt and unwound her hair. As she appeared now, it was still tied in several elaborate knots at the back of her head.

"But soft," I said. "What light through yonder window breaks?"

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," I told her. "Just wait a couple decades and it'll make more sense. Good evening, Your Majesty."

"Elizabeth," she corrected. "Please."

I just smiled, and nodded in concession. Then I asked, "What are you doing awake at this hour? Does not the Queen of this great land need her beauty rest?"

"Oh, indeed," she said. "But alas, I am unable to settle for the night, as something is plaguing me. Would you come up, dear Doctor?"

My eyebrows raised. Was I seriously being invited into the royal inner sanctum?

"Don't seem so surprised," she advised me. "My guards are well aware that I have been expecting you. But walk with a soft step so as not to rouse the household, and with them, their suspicions. Having a gentleman caller at midnight is not befitting of an unmarried Queen."

I saluted her casually and pursed my lips, walking toward the nearest entrance to Hatfield House. To my surprise, the thug at the door let me right in, even nodding a greeting at me, though grudgingly. This made me decidedly uncomfortable. Leave it to me to feel chagrined over being let in to a house. But somehow, officially sanctioned cloistering of me was what was coming to mind. It meant that Elizabeth had something up her sleeve, and had informed her staff. I shivered a bit as I crossed the threshold into a part of the house I hadn't yet seen.

I began to pad up the stairs, thinking it was fortuitous that I'd long ago chosen to wear these ever-so-chic trainers with this body, instead of the Frankenstein-like combat boots some of my other incarnations had fancied. I was light on my feet as I went up. I realised about halfway to the top step that I had no idea where to go after that. Yeah, turn right, but once that was done, which room was it?

Again, to my surprise, the thug at the top of the stairs motioned with a jerk of his head for me to follow him. He led me to a great ornate wooden door with a brass knocker and a depiction of the Book of Revelations carved into what looked to me like oak. I thought it somehow fitting that I was about to walk into the bedchamber of a half-naked, and mightily clever, Queen, and the end of the world was staring me in the face.

The thug used the knocker to make our presence known, and then he walked away and re-manned his place at the top of the stairs.

"Enter," the voice said from inside. I obeyed. As I crossed into the yellow-lit, heavily brocaded, incredibly warm bedroom, she said, "Lock it again, if you please."

"So, Elizabeth," I sighed. "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, so much, Doctor. Not the least of which this constant mask that you wear."

"Oh, I'm the problem?"

"Don't misunderstand me, sir. It's not that I don't enjoy viewing the visage that said mask provides," she said, walking toward me. "But there is a barrier between us, and I feel that nothing should come between us."

"Really?" I asked sceptically.

"So once again I shall ask for your honesty, Doctor. It has come to my attention that you visited your three friends in the livery earlier this evening. Is that true, or did my guards bear me false witness?"

"It's true," I said.

"What was your intention?"

"Just to... I don't know, touch base, see how they're doing."

"Did you attempt to free them?"

"No," I said truthfully. "They asked me to, but I declined. I am not ready to leave here quite so hastily."

"Indeed, Doctor," Elizabeth whispered, getting much, much closer to me. She reached out and touched my tie, and played with the soft fabric between her thumb and middle finger just a bit. "Indeed, I do not want you to leave so hastily either. Especially in that it would not happen that way, and you would be captured immediately and added to the livery prisoners' roster."

"Is that so?"

"Oh yes," she said, her eyes wide, her mouth delighted. Something about this expression unnerved me. It was the beginning of a realisation for me.

"I see," I said, not moving my lips.

"So I must ask you: did you plan on returning to the livery to pay your friends a call?"

"Probably."

"In that case, in light of the projected menace that your comrades pose to me, and the inherent danger in your proximity both to me and to them, I must warn you," she lectured. "That if I should catch you in so clandestine an endeavour again, I shall be obliged to impede you."

It was a threat.

And it made my skin crawl.

If I should catch you again, I shall be obliged to impede you.

Translated for modern audiences: If you don't back off, then I'll have to stop you.

Now where had I heard that before?

Suddenly, it all made sense. I was drawn inexplicably to this woman. I had tried to explore my feelings about it – why was she so magnetic? She hadn't had a reputation in history for being particularly charismatic or beautiful, but to me, she was an orchid in a field of daisies. It wasn't a Reinette thing – they had a great big zero in common, as far as personality. I hadn't thought it was sexual, and I was right, it was more visceral than that. She didn't remind me of Rose or Martha or Donna or Astrid or River or anyone else in that realm.

But the way she looked down her nose amusedly at me when I was being impertinent, the way she'd said oh yes with that maniacal delight, the way she'd said she'd stop me if I went too far. And the physical description I'd catalogued before: sharp, almost efficient features, very striking. Piercing eyes that crinkled at the sides when she smiled. She had a straight nose, slight but supple lips, and controversial hair.

Sound like anyone you know?

Dear God, she reminded me of myself. Oh, I had some serious issues to work through before I could die. I knew I had an ego problem, but this? And in that moment, I knew I'd be canoodling with the Queen before too long, and it wasn't just her demanour that said it – it was my own infernal internal musings.

Whoa.

No wonder she'd wind up wanting my head on a stake.

"Point taken," I said, in response to her promise to keep me from seeing my friends. I was also a little miffed at myself because I'd been pretty sure that no one had seen me.

"And on to other things, then," she said. "I don't remain friends for long with individuals who will not reveal their true monikers." She had her head tilted slightly back, and her demeanour suggested relaxed concentration. She wasn't going to bend, and she wasn't joking around.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I cannot tell you that."

"Do you know how many people in this realm are permitted to call me Elizabeth?"

"No, I don't."

"Just one. You. Any others who held that privilege are deceased. And yet you refuse me the courtesy of allowing me to do the same for you. Why, Doctor?"

I didn't answer. I looked back at her the way she was looking at me. Unbendable and serious. I didn't care who she was. The cosmos didn't care who she was. She would call me Doctor like just about everyone else in the universe. People I had loved and respected beyond words would never know my name, and that's just the way it was.

For a long time, it seemed we were at an impasse. She wanted to know, and I wasn't going to tell her. She was determined to find out, but I could not bend even if I'd wanted to. Kindred spirits, I now realised. Two insufferable personalities cut from the same incredibly stubborn, vain cloth.

"Why do you challenge me?" she asked at last.

"Because..." I took a deep breath, held it for a split second, then sighed. "You seem to like it."

"Cheeky," she smirked. "Did I use that term correctly?"

"Perfectly," I told her, also smirking.

She sighed as well, and made her way back toward the window where I'd first seen her. She did have graceful movements and I wasn't complaining about the outfit. I was seeing Queen Elizabeth in her underwear. If I had "guys," they'd never believe it!

"The fact is, Doctor," she told me. "I'm surrounded constantly by people who cater to my every whim. Yes, Your Majesty. No, Your Majesty. I agree with you completely, ma'am, what an astute observation! It's dreadfully boring! I overcame so much adversity to be where I am; my mother..." she stopped and looked at me with fright in her eyes. Then she changed her tack. "I overcame adversity. I'm accustomed to adversity. I thrive upon it. Yes, I have the Catholics trying to overthrow me, and the traditionalists as well, but I have no-one to talk to. The guards and my ladies-in-waiting... well. They might as well be furniture for all the comfort and interest they provide."

Lonely and balks at talking of her family. This was getting uncanny.

"All right, then," I reasoned aloud. "Then you don't really want me to tell you my name. You just want to badger me until it stops being fun."

"Well, perhaps," she admitted, smiling coyly. "But I'd like to know. It would show an understanding, a kinship."

Something in her eyes really was lonely, and seemed to be begging me to make this concession. She was no longer the Queen throwing her weight around. She was a woman asking a man to open up. And more than usual, I couldn't do it.

"I'm sorry."

She was deflated. Her shoulders sank, and she turned back to the window. "So be it, Doctor." She turned toward me again, very suddenly, and her Queenliness flashed once more in her eyes. "If I cannot appeal to your sense of kinship, then I will appeal to your manhood."

She advanced on me, and I instinctively pressed my back against a gigantic wardrobe behind me. Before I knew what was happening, her hand was between my legs, gripping me tightly. Though, notice I didn't say it was unpleasant.

"I still can't tell you my name," I gulped, hardening in her hand.

"Oh, have it your way," she mewled coquettishly, now stroking me through my trousers, showing her power over me. "But I will have you know that I do not like being toyed with. I do not like being proved or exposed. You have committed a grievous sin, Doctor, by laying open my tricks. I am a woman in a man's world, and the tools I use are my own. How dare you try to impugn my diplomacy." She was squeezing tighter now, and my pinstripes were growing more and more misshapen. The anger in her eyes was giving me a thrill, and I wondered if that's what had appealed so much to Maggie; the anger in me, the hatred. I could see it reflected now in the sharp face of Elizabeth.

"But is it untrue? Are you not planning forever to use your unmarried status as a chess piece in the game of foreign relations... Elizabeth?"

She narrowed her eyes and the tips of her slightly elfin ears turned bright pink. Suddenly, her lips were pressed against mine, and my head became very well-acquainted with a sharp edge in the carving of the oaken wardrobe. I wondered which morbid Biblical scene was currently digging into my skull.

Her tongue curled uncharacteristically shyly into my mouth, and I sucked at it, alternatingly giving her mine to play with as well. The words, I'm snogging Queen Elizabeth I popped into my head, and I longed to say them out loud. This was a much bigger coup than that Frenchwoman, what was her name again? Elizabeth was nowhere near as beautiful, but she was a lot more famous, and famously unattainable. By now, I'd fully realised my potential to be a complete arse, to take advantage of my surroundings, and to enjoy this weird attractiveness of mine while it lasted. Who cared if she was the Queen? I was the Doctor, damn it! And it would make a mighty good story later, even if it meant she'd someday come after me with bows and arrows and orders of dismemberment.

"Of course it's untrue," she panted, pulling away from me. She took my hands and started pulling me toward the bed. She backed up to it and sat down. "I'm to marry soon."

"Well then, someone ought to let Spanish Philip in on the secret."

"I'll let him know, certainly," she said, smiling up at me. "But I won't marry him."

With that, she spread her legs and smiled. She gestured for me to kneel, and I obeyed. She pulled the skirt of her slip up above her knees, showing me her freckled, white English thighs.

"Be gentle with me," she whispered. "I am a virgin, you know."