Oh I am good, arent i? another update! Ha! I'm on a roll lately! Enjoy it while it lasts, folks, cuz knowing me I will drift away from you all in a week or so. I'll try really hard not to, though, cuz people hav given me really good criticism (you know who you are!) and I feel inspired. That's enough rambling for one A/N, I think.

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Did I just say that?

Disclaimer: Owning Doctor Who is the one dream of mine that will never come true.

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"Well." Rolling up her sleeves, Faye immediately marched out of the room, a purposeful look on her face. A couple minutes later, she returned with a black, rolled-up leather case, about the length and width of a laptop computer. Fumbling slightly on the triple knot that bound it shut, she opened the holder to reveal a duo of tiny pistols. They were three inches long and pure obsidian colored, with mother-of-pearl adornment on the handles. A matching black leather holster, complete with shimmering glass seed beads, and about twenty shots finished the set.

"And what would those be?" the Doctor asked sternly, glaring at the owner suspiciously.

"They're my pride and joy, that's what. A homicidally insane fellow once forced his way in and tried to kill his wife, who was being hospitalized at the time. I happened to be on the night shift, and the wife was in my duty room. Took him out with my lunch tin." She smiled eerily at the memory. "These dropped out of the inside of his coat as he fell, and the other night nurses thought it fitting that I keep them. We've never told a soul, except 'til now."

"What did you do with the body?" asked Mickey a little too eagerly.

Faye laughed and began loading one of the guns. "Oh, it didn't kill him. Knocked him cold for quite a while, I'm sure, but the blow was far from deadly. We threw him into the rubbish bin out back." An almost bloodthirsty spark was visible in her eye, something they hadn't seen before. Whatever Faye's past, it was obvious that she had a vengeful, violent core.

"My point being, why do you have them out?" The Doctor's face was dangerously shaded, a sign that he hated the sight of the weapons almost as much as he hated what they were capable of.

She glanced up from her work and raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that obvious?"

The Doctor started toward her with an angry expression. "Don't you dare tell me you plan on using them on that creature upstairs, Faye Middleton, don't you dare."

Placing the full-up gun to her left, she picked up the next one and started on that. "Well, of course. What else?"

To her shock, a bony hand slammed down upon the black case, halting her progress. "Oh, no. There are three very good reasons why we will not be taking that course of action. One, that is Rose's body. If all of her is not fully intact by the time we're through with this, I will be very unhappy. Two, our enemy is a child, as I said. Shooting it would be the most inhumane thing we could do. Of course," he added, almost as an after thought, "from what I've seen of humans, most of what they do is inhumane. Very hypocritical species, aren't you?"

Her thin, strong fingers wrapped around his wrist and pried it off, not bothering to look at his furious and bewildered face. Everyone could see that there was something very wrong with Faye, but no one could possibly fathom what it was that was making her act this way. With a snap, she finished loading the pistols and took one in each hand. They looked very cozy there, quite at home tucked into those slender fingers.

"Faye, I am telling you right now to stop. You can't do this."

She smirked and finally turned to face him, her sharp nose mere centimeters from his freckled one. "And I am telling you, Doctor, that I will do what I like. This is about protection, self-defense against alien forces. I will not let myself be killed by a twenty-two year old dropout who is possessed by a child with supernatural powers. Not going to happen. So you," she threatened, emphasizing the word by poking the guns menacingly into his chest, "had better get the hell out of my way." The fiery redhead shoved the Doctor back with the points of the revolvers, causing him to crash head-over-heels into the long table behind.

Mickey and Martha could do nothing but gape in astonishment at this strange new development in Faye's personality. Neither could figure out what had ever come across her mind to make her physically bring out a gun and prepare it for killing. Hadn't she just confessed her nearly-love for the Doctor only a short while ago? Didn't she realize that she was planning to kill his one love?

"Faye, stop!" cried Martha, blocking the exit with her arms. "Whatever you're planning on doing, just stop, okay? Please, Faye!"

The gun was at her face in a matter of nanoseconds, and Martha felt herself freezing up at the sight of the gun barrel laughing at her cruelly. The outstretched hands slowly lifted so they were above her head meekly. Mickey made a move to protect her, but the Doctor, who had recovered from his tumble, held onto the sleeve of his leather jacket firmly. "It wouldn't help," he murmured, and Mickey's body relaxed slightly in helplessness.

"You know what?" asked Faye, staring at her target with eyes that could freeze lava. "No. I won't stop. You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. Just because you're some alien chump and his pesky little gang doesn't give you authority over me, now does it? I will go up there and I will blow her pretty blonde head off, because I know what will happen if I don't."

"What will happen, Faye?" asked the Doctor solemnly.

She turned to face the speaker, but did not lower the weapon. For the first time since her mood swing, pain was etched into the lines of her face. "We'll die," she whispered, her bottom lip quivering. "We'll all die. I know, Doctor. Mercy is worthless. It doesn't mean a damn thing. You say you have mercy? Maybe you do." She laughed unnaturally to nobody in particular. "Will that save you, Doctor? Will your pity and your compassion save you in the end?"

"No," he said sincerely. "No, it won't."

Another uncanny giggle escaped her throat. "That just proves my point! So tell me, O Almighty Saint, what is the point? If your mercy will not save you, why do you give it?"

"It's not about saving yourself. It's about saving someone else." He smiled genuinely, and suddenly his friends felt warm inside from his radiance. "Because it's rescuing that other person that gives you a reason for living."

"You're wrong. It's not like that at all." She fought to keep the tears from spilling, but one drop betrayed her and ran swiftly down her face.

"No, Faye - " he began, but stopped suddenly. His body froze like an ice sculpture, and Martha & Mickey stared in alarm. He remained still for a few seconds; then a vein in his forehead twitched, and a rasping cough rose from his throat. A few seconds later, a violent scarlet liquid inched its way over his bottom lip, quivering there for a moment, then falling delicately onto the floor between his feet.

"Doctor?" gasped Martha in terror. "What - ?"

The roughest, most agonizing screams she had ever heard bounced madly between the walls of the lounge. His whole face contorted as he collapsed like a stone to the floor, clutching his chest in torture.

"Doctor!" screamed Martha. Desperately, she tried to get to him, but the point of the gun inched closer to her nose, and she immediately halted. "What's wrong? What's wrong with him???" She knew, yet she voiced the question aloud anyway.

His clenched fists snapped open, revealing for all to see the gashes carved into his palms, flaming red and throbbing. All gazed in horror as swarms of tiny black dots bubbled up from beneath the skin, sealing the cuts with tar-like scabs.

"It's the Fever," whispered Mickey in revulsion. "The Fever has Taken the Doctor."

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Woah long chappy!!! Who-ray!!! It's a crap ending/cliffy, I know. I planed to end it sooner, but I wanted to get the Fever bit in there so it turned out being longer than I expected. Mickey line is the latest thins in crap, I know, so don't flame me please, I am perfectly aware of my incompetence. Weird, when I want to do a cliffy, I fail miserably, but when I DON'T, I end up doing so and everyone gets all mad at me. I'm sorry…. (depressed)

I took your advice sincerely to heart, Peyton Halliwell. Did you notice? I did A LOT more describing and A LOT less dialogue. What did you think, y'all? (no I am not from the south, God no) Was it good? I haven't decided whether I'll explain what the FRICK is goin' on with Faye, so help me out a bit. Would you like to know, or would it make the story too complicated/not fit it anywhere? (I am addressing everyone here, not just Peyton) If you want it in, give me a little help on where/how to say it, please. This element was not planned (just like the rest of the story, I'm not like JKR and had it all in my head before I started, it was all pretty spontaneous), so I'm at a bit of a loss.

Thanks so much to all my readers (especially my REVIEWers, hem hem) and especially to –FaCeTeD-DiAmOnD-, because she pwns life. If you like Harry Potter, go read her stuff, especially Rosy Hues. It is like sooooooo good! It is Dramione, btw, but even if you don't like that pairing, you can always pretend Draco is Ron or Hermione is…. Pansy. Or something.

R&R. Or else. Or else I shall (really) sic Superman on you.

Superman: RAWRS!!!