The Doctor jerked hard enough that some of his tea splashed over the edge of his cup and landed on his saucer and hand. "What?" he sputtered, hastily placing the saucer and cup on the nearby end table.

Lyssa blinked up at him sleepily, wondering what he was on about. "You said I was dying," she reminded him. "Why?"

He was staring at her like she'd lost her mind, which was quite frankly rather rude of him. "When did I say that?" he demanded, looking upset.

"When the TARDIS nearly blew up?" she tried. When there were still no signs of recognition she sighed impatiently. "It was before I'd found any of you guys. I ran into Nine and he said I was dying. Also, apparently if you - well, he - touched me it would kill me faster?" She frowned "But that doesn't really make sense though. I hugged you like twenty minutes later and it didn't kill me." She paused, eyes widening in shocked realization. "Or did it, and this is just my brain trying to realize it? Is this a kindness? A nice memory before I depart from this mortal coil forever?" Her hands lifted up to clutch at her temples as she tried to process her impending doom.

The Doctor, who had been staring at her the whole while, closed his mouth abruptly. He shut his eyes and took a long, deliberate breath before letting it out again slowly, lowering his head to rest on his closed fists. "Fairy-girl," he started plaintively. "Why? Why?"

"Why... what?" she said uncertainly, dropping the drama and shifting so she could look at him easier, less sleepy now that she had something to focus on.

He lifted his head and turned to face her, looking like he was struggling with his words. "Lyssa..." he said, speaking slowly and clearly with an effort. "How did you think I would react to your... question?"

She squinted at him, not understanding the issue. "With an answer? You were the one who told me I was dying, I figured you'd at least know why." If he didn't, she might just file a complaint, or something. Honestly, the nerve of him.

He pursed his lips and nodded once. "Okay," he started slowly. "Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but typically I need at least a little bit of context first. Otherwise, certain questions can... sometimes cause alarm."

She frowned. "But you were the one who said it. Why would you need context?"

He sighed, leaning his face back down onto his hands again. "Give me strength," he pleaded, voice muffled by his hands. He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and sitting back up again. "Lyssa, if I came up to you and asked for help learning why I was dying, being completely serious, what would your reaction be?"

She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "Well... if I could tell that you meant it, I'd obviously be pretty concerned. Why?" He just stared at her, which was also rather rude of him. Hadn't he ever learned not to stare at people? "Why are you star... oh. Ohhh. Yeah, okay, that's fair." She sagged as the dots finally connected. "Whoops."

"Yeah," he affirmed with raised eyebrows. "'Oh.'"

"Sorry," she muttered, not looking him in the eyes. "Probably should've thought that one through a little more."

"I mean, maybe," he snorted, nudging her with his knee.

She peeked up at him with a penitent expression. "Sorry," she offered again sheepishly. "I didn't mean for that to come across quite the way it probably did."

He let out a sigh, then shook his head with a small smile. "Well, at least I never have to be worried about if you're dying or not. You'll just come up and ask me why you're dying," he needled her. "And don't worry about fair play, I'll be sure to come up and ask you why any time I think I may dying."

"Doctor!" she whined, trying not to laugh. "Stop! I get it, I'm sorry!" She rested her head against his knee and tried to frown crossly at him, although her lips were twitching too much for her to appear very intimidating.

"Ah, you're right. This is a very serious situation. I do apologize," he told her with a serious expression. "I would hate to unnecessarily cause you undue anxiety about my wellbeing."

"You were the one who brought it up in the first place," she weakly tried to defend herself. He raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed, hiding her face in the overlarge sleeves of her new coat. "Okay, fine, I'm sorry," she gave in, voice muffled by the fabric. "Next time I'm trying to learn something I won't go to you, I promise."

"What! No, that's not what I -" He sputtered. "Who else would you go to?"

Lyssa shrugged, letting her hands fall to her knees but carefully hiding her smirk. "I dunno. Probably Jack. He's a time traveler too, he's bound to know some things."

"Jack?" he repeated incredulously. "Jack Harkness? Why would you go to Jack? He doesn't even have a proper time machine! All he's got is a vortex manipulator!"

"I've got one too," Lyssa reminded him. "It's around here somewhere. I haven't seen it for a while though... Probably not since I got it. I wonder where the TARDIS put it," she trailed off, thinking of the various places to hide the small device in her room. She shook herself. "Anyways, we got distracted. Why'd you say that I was dying?"

The Doctor took a moment longer to catch up, mouthing Jack's name to himself in distaste. "But why Jack? Even River would be better! Jack is a good friend, but hardly qualified to teach about the intricacies of time and space! He just doesn't have the experience. Not like -"

"Doctor," Lyssa interrupted his minor rant, pressing into his knee warningly.

He shut his mouth and looked at her expectantly.

"Why did you say I was dying?" she reminded him.

"Right." He straightened a little as his brain shifted tracks, fingers suddenly twisting together uncomfortably. "I... think I remember that, but not fully. It's been three hundred years and an erased timeline. Can you tell me what happened from your point of view?"

Lyssa nodded, sobering as she recalled the memories of what had happened. Pulling herself up next to him on the couch, she went over how he'd looked and what he'd said - and how he'd refused to touch her, claiming that it would kill her faster. She paused at the end, hesitating over what she was about to say before continuing when he looked at her expectantly. "I think... Were you - was he... just after the Time War?" she ventured cautiously. "He looked like when I jumped to Nine just after that."

The Doctor sighed, looking down at his hands. "So it was real," he muttered, eyes distant and unseeing. "I'd always... wondered, in the back of my mind. If maybe it wasn't just..."

"Just what?" Lyssa asked gently when he didn't continue, although she had a sinking feeling that she could hazard a guess based on what Nine had said before he'd realized she was actually there. "The TARDIS's voice interface?"

He scoffed. "Nothing that kind." He sighed, twisting something back and forth on one of his fingers that she couldn't see. "Fairy-girl, you have to understand... Back then, I wasn't in a good headspace. At all. Fresh from the Time War, fresh from the loss of my entire people... of millions of people, my people, screaming out in fear as they were wiped from existence. I was in psychic shock after they were ripped out of my head." He let out a shaky breath, not looking up at her. "And not only that, you were... I believed you were dead. Blamed myself for your death."

Lyssa's heart clenched in her chest, aching in a way that made her want to cry, even as something glistened at the end of his eyelashes before he blinked it away. She pressed into his side, trying to offer him some paltry comfort through her silent presence.

He still didn't look at her, but his tense form relaxed the slightest bit. He took a deep breath before continuing on. "There... there were times when I thought I saw you. Blaming me for your death, or... asking for me to help you. Asking why I didn't help you. You... It... never stayed long. And always vanished when I tried to touch you."

"Oh, Doctor," Lyssa mourned, wanting to hug him but unsure if he would welcome the touch at the moment. Not knowing what else to do, but wanting him to know it was an option, she laid her open hand on her leg, palm up in invitation. After a moment's hesitation, he took it, loosely intertwining his fingers with hers. When she failed to dissipate at the touch, his grip tightened, bordering on desperate as she returned the gesture.

"You didn't always blame me though," he admitted after a moment of silence. "Sometimes, when I was stronger, the TARDIS could manipulate my dreams and make them kinder. Not often though, I wasn't mentally strong enough for that," he sighed. "So when you showed up, acting like yourself, but I couldn't sense the TARDIS... I thought maybe it was a good dream on my own, for once. I was still afraid to touch you, but I thought... maybe, just this once, it was a good dream."

"And then you went to help me, and when you came back, I'd vanished," Lyssa finished for him. "I'm sorry."

He gave a brief shake of his head. "If you'd stayed there you really would have died when the TARDIS couldn't maintain the hallway anymore. Once it was gone you'd have been killed by whatever was making that area dangerous, whether it was radiation, or broken parts, or something else. You leaving saved your life."

She sighed, fully aware of that but still feeling guilt sitting heavily in her stomach. "I know. I just... I wish I could have been there for you. Actually been there for you."

He did look at her that time, face softening as he slid his hand out of her grasp to wrap his arm around her shoulders and tuck her into his side. She went willingly, smiling when his other hand went back to clasp hers on their laps as they gazed into the cracking fire.

"You were there for me," he told her softly, the arm around her tightening just a little. "Just a few days later this stubborn girl showed up out of nowhere. She refused to leave me, even at my worst, and did what I could never have done for myself."

"What's that?" Lyssa asked after a moment, hesitant to break the silence but unable to help herself - she'd been wondering ever since she'd left Nine that time how he'd done, if she'd actually been helpful to him in any way.

A small smile finally touched his face for the first time since she'd started the conversation. "You gave me hope, and a reason to go on," he told her. "And I can't ever thank you enough for being there for me."

She blinked, face heating up at how genuine she could feel he was being. "Oh. Well. You'd do the same for me, you have done the same for me," she tried to brush it off, never very good with heartfelt compliments. "You're my best friend, you're my - well, you're my Doctor," she summed up awkwardly, sure that her entire body was now bright red. "Of course I wouldn't leave you."

He gave her a crooked smile that sent butterflies fluttering about in her stomach and bounced to a standing position, pulling her to her feet beside him, keeping her hand firmly in his. "Fairy-girl," he told her solemnly, "I've just had an idea. Several ideas, in fact."

She smiled up at him indulgently, happy to see him happy after his moment of vulnerability. "And what are they?"

He leaned forward and kissed her on the tip of her nose, fast enough that he'd returned to his normal position by the time she realized what he'd done. "For starters, I'm getting you a coat that looks much nicer than that one," he told her, gently tugging her out of the library and back towards the console room.

She blinked, startled. "What's wrong with this one?" she asked, curling her free arm around her stomach - and the patchwork coat - defensively. "It has pockets! And it smells nice!"

His face was a struggle between pleasure and distaste before he finally crinkled his nose. "I can get you one that has pockets. A different one."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Doctor, I hardly think you get to judge on questionable fashion choices. Why does it even bother you?"

He muttered something under his breath too quiet for her to understand, picking up the pace before pulling them to a stop as they entered the console room. He told her to wait there, then vanished to the area underneath the console, footsteps clattering down the stairs while she waited in bemusement. He told her to close her eyes before he reappeared, and she reluctantly did so, sure he was up to something.

Sure enough, moments later she felt the coat gently being tugged off her, and she resisted, starting to open her eyes before he stopped her. She felt him lean close to her ear and pause, for just a moment. "Do you trust me?" he asked in a low voice, and she could hear the grin in his voice as goosebumps erupted on her skin at his closeness.

"Obviously," she tried to cover it up with bravado. "Is today a day for stupid questions, or something?"

He chuckled, but gave no other answer, simply tugging on her coat again until she reluctantly let him have it, shivering as the cold air brushed against her bare arms once more. A warm, heavy fabric replaced it, and she instinctively curled into it, easily shrugging her arms into the sleeves as the Doctor held it up for her. This coat was also too big for her, and she opened her eyes as the Doctor adjusted the fabric so that it fell evenly across her shoulders, the rainbow coat tossed carelessly over his own arm.

She glanced down at herself to inspect her new look, then stopped short when she realized what she was wearing, cheeks once again stained with a blush. "Doctor..."

"Yes?" he smiled at her innocently, far too pleased with himself.

"Why am I wearing your old coat?" she asked, the tweed sleeves falling down to her wrists as she raised her arms in demonstration.

"You needed a coat, didn't you?" he raised his eyebrows. "And I won't be using that one anymore, so, why not? It's recycling! Plus, it smells like me," he smirked.

"Why would -" She stopped, memories of her stating just why she'd liked the ugly coat flooding to the forefront of her mind. "Oh, no," she groaned, placing her head in her hands. Her hands that were covered by the coat sleeves - which did indeed, smell like the Doctor, only... more like the current him, much to her embarrassment. "Why do I do this to myself?"

He chuckled, the sound not doing anything to help her current state.

"And you!" she raised her head to frown at him. "The old coat was fine! Why'd you want me to get rid of it?"

"Eh," he waved a hand in the air dismissively. "I haven't worn that one for a few centuries. And I was a different man then. I didn't - know you, not like I do now." He nodded at the jacket now wrapped around her with a satisfied air. "That one actually smells like me. And it looks better on you."

She squinted her eyes at him. "Are you... jealous? Of yourself?" And then, as she followed that thought to its logical conclusion, ignoring his sputtered denials, she blanched. "Wait. That was your coat?"

He blinked at her, distracted from his affected air of nonchalance. "You didn't know?" She just stared at him, wide-eyed, and he raised his eyebrows, a gleam entering his eyes. "Interesting. Well, then, since you didn't know... yes, that was my coat. It belonged to my sixth self quite some time ago. I forget how long exactly, but it's been several centuries at the least. Do you know, I almost forgot I had the thing." He glanced at the garment tossed haphazardly over his arm with an expression of distaste. "Which was probably for the best. Honestly, why did I ever decide that was a good idea? It goes right up there with the celery," he muttered.

"Celery?" Lyssa frowned, before deciding that that could wait for another day - with her luck, who knew what she would learn. "Never mind. I still can't believe that the TARDIS led me to that coat." She sent a glare at the ceiling, her gaze growing harder when the ship only sent her an innocent hum. "Oh, don't give me that. You totally did it on purpose!"

"Yes, well, at least it was my coat and not somebody like Jack's," the Doctor adjusted his bowtie smugly, sending her a wink when she glanced his way.

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands with yet another blush. "This is it, this is how I die," she decided. "Only twenty-one years of age. Too young, but alas, fate has spoken."

"Twenty-one?" the Doctor squinted at her. "Are you sure?"

"Should I not be?" she squinted back at him. "Was I just supposed to skip that year and go straight to twenty-two?"

"Twenty-two." His gaze grew reminiscent. "What a year that was." He sent her a wicked grin. "And will be."

"Why?" she peered at him suspiciously. "What happens?"

He became very absorbed in the colorful fabric on his arms. "Well, I should probably take this back to the wardrobe," he said loudly, as if he hadn't heard her. "I'll just leave you here - unless you want me to take that coat as well?" He nodded at her new garment teasingly.

She clutched at the fabric protectively before consciously thinking about it, blushing when she realized what she was doing, but not taking her hands away. "No, it's mine now. Back off. You already took one coat, and I need all the pockets I can get," she informed him, blushing harder and looking away when his gaze brightened with delight. "It's like you said, it's just recycling," she muttered, crossing her arms. "It was going to waste down below, and I needed a new jacket anyways. I'll catch less attention in this one."

"Whatever you say, fairy-girl," he told her, voice soft and eyes knowing.

That night she found the coat of six million colors hanging in her closet, though whether the Doctor had placed it there or the TARDIS, both refused to tell.

xXx

When she left her room the next morning - decidedly not wearing either of her new coats - the hallways had changed to the burnt gold of Nine and Ten. Curious to see where - and when - she was at now, she quickly grabbed breakfast and then headed for the console room, munching on the last of her toast. She was delighted to see Ten and Donna there, bickering with each other like usual. Their heads were bent close together over the console, examining something on the monitor.

"I'm telling you, they're gonna be fine, spaceman," Donna told the Doctor, crossing her arms and bumping shoulders with him reassuringly. "They're definitely going to be getting into trouble, but ten to one they're going to be getting out of it just fine too. And if they can't, then they'll call you. Granted, you'll probably bring more trouble with you, but things'll work out in the end."

His hand came up to rub at the back of his head. "I know, I just - I worry. After how everything started..." he trailed off.

Donna's voice softened. "It's okay to be worried, you know. Just don't hover. They can take care of themselves."

"Frankly, I'd be more worried about your ability to take care of yourself," Lyssa interjected teasingly, deciding to announce herself as she strolled up to them.

They both jumped, spinning around to face her. The Doctor looked delighted, then his eyes landed on her necklace and he winced, eyes widening as he spun back around and slammed a button on the side of the monitor. The screen went black, but not before she'd caught a glimpse of two figures posing for the camera, though neither of them looked familiar.

"Sorry," he apologized, turning back to her. "Spoilers." Then he grinned, catching her up in a hug. "It's good to see you again. Where are you at?" he asked, setting her down again and looking her over. "It's a little hard to place you."

She grinned. "Just came from the future. Before that..." she paused to think. "Oh yeah! Nine in London, with the Empty Child and the gas mask zombies. The last time I saw you..." she grinned mischievously. "It was actually with you and Donna," she nodded at the redhead. "Your future self got turned into a toddler along with one of your companions, and you had to help us figure it out. Have you done that yet?"

He blinked mutely at her. "I'm sorry, what?" he managed after a moment.

"Don't worry, you were a really cute toddler," she assured him with an innocent air. She winced. "Don't tell him I said that, he'll get a big head." She paused as he sputtered, a thought occurring to her. "Actually, even if you had done it yet, would you even remember? I thought if you interacted with another version of you the younger one would end up forgetting to maintain the timelines." She glanced at Donna, but the older women just stared back at her blankly. "Well, I guess that answers the question of whether or not you'd know," she frowned. "Okay, I got nothing. Where are you guys at?"

Donna just shook her head. "I swear, meeting you each time you appear out of nowhere, it's an adventure all on its own. It's good to see you, though, Lyssa," she smiled, giving Lyssa a quick hug before releasing her. She eyed the still-sputtering Doctor. "Given the state of Dumbo over here, I dunno if I can say where we were just at, I think it might be a spoiler, or whatever it is you like to call it to irritate the other. We were just about to land when you showed up. It's supposed to be safe for humans this time, but who knows where we'll actually end up."

"Well then, don't let me stop you," Lyssa grinned, grabbing hold of the console and bracing herself.

"Oi, my driving's not that bad," the Doctor grumbled, taking his place at the console and sending them off.

"It really is, spaceman," Donna informed him bluntly, making a show of holding on tight as the ship began to shake and wheeze. "I think my bruises have bruises after that last trip."

"That's not my fault!" he protested indignantly.

"Your ship, your fault," Donna said succinctly, Lyssa nodded in agreement.

He sent her a betrayed look and promptly lost it when the ship lurched hard enough to send them all flying. "What's going on with you, old girl?" he frowned, crawling back to the console and pulling himself back to his feet with some difficulty as the lurching continued. "It's like you've got indigestion," he grunted, struggling to straighten them out. The ship finally landed with a thump that sent Lyssa flying once more. "You all right, fairy-girl?" he called, placing a concerned hand on the time rotor. "I don't know what's up with her, today, but something's going on."

"I'm fine," Lyssa huffed, shoving her hair out of her face and accepting Donna's hand to pull her to her feet. "Thanks."

The redhead nodded, straightening her deep pink tunic and adjusting the large belt resting over it. "So where're we at, Doctor?"

He sent them both a grin, bounding over to the door. "Dunno, I set it to random. Let's find out!" He pulled open the doors and led the way into what looked like the gardens of a large stone manor. "Smell that air," he proclaimed. "Grass and lemonade... and a little bit of mint. A hint of mint, must be the 1920s," he said knowledgably.

"You can tell what year it is just by smelling?" Donna asked disbelievingly as they walked toward the house.

"Oh yeah!" the Doctor nodded smugly.

"Time Lord senses," Lyssa grinned. "They never mentioned that one in the brochure."

Donna raised her eyebrows. "Or maybe that big vintage car coming up the drive gave it away," she offered, nodding her head towards the old-fashioned car turning onto the gravel driveway.

The Doctor shrugged, tugging on one earlobe. "I mean, that's, that's just visual confirmation of what I already knew. Helpful for people like you, who don't have Time Lord senses like me, I'm sure. Bit useless for me, though."

"Oh, yeah. Totally," Lyssa nodded agreeably, hiding her smile.

"Now, now, ladies, no need to be jealous," the Doctor scolded them, tugging them both behind a large bush to spy on the small group of people assembled on the lawn in fancy 1920's clothes. Servants - and presumably a butler - scurried about between the guests.

Donna eyed him. "Jealous of what? Your big nose? Ain't nothing enviable about that, spaceman, my nose can smell just fine."

"Oi!"

Lyssa rolled her eyes and tuned them out, preferring to spy on the group of people instead of listening to them bicker. A balding man with a mustache stepped out of the car and was greeted by the butler and another servant. Shortly thereafter what looked like a priest rode up on a bicycle, amiably greeting the other newcomer.

"Never mind Planet Zog, or wherever you were going to take us. A party in the 1920s, that's more like it!" Donna finally said excitedly.

"Problem is, we haven't been invited," the Doctor said regretfully. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the psychic paper with two fingers and a grin. "Oh, I forgot, yes we have!"

Donna grabbed Lyssa's hand and pulled her backwards. "Well, come on then. We can't just crash a party without the proper clothes! You might as well wait here," she addressed the Doctor. "You never change out of that suit anyway."

"Don't take too long," he reminded them, settling comfortably against the outside of the TARDIS. "The party won't last forever."

"We'll take precisely as long as we need to, thank you very much," Donna informed him. "Come on, Lyssa. Some of us actually have standards to meet."

"The Doctor has standards," Lyssa protested with a grin as Donna pulled her into the TARDIS. "They're... just very low."

"I heard that!"

xXx

"The Doctor's going to complain we took too long," Lyssa muttered a short time later, leading the way through the hallways back to the console room.

"Yeah, well, he can go stuff it," Donna remarked complacently, the long tasseled necklace she was now wearing flapping about over her beaded brown dress. "It takes time to look this fabulous."

"For me, maybe. You come by it naturally," Lyssa pointed out, tucking a loose curl back behind her ear. With the help of Donna, she'd managed to style her hair into something resembling a shoulder-length bob held back by a simple green headband. She'd also changed into a green and gold black-fringed dress, the fringe at the bottom brushing against her knees as she walked.

"Nah, I don't make that much of a picture," Donna brushed her off far too easily, but her cheeks flushed a light pink.

"'Course you do!" Lyssa refuted her as they turned down a new hallway. "The only..." The floor shook beneath her feet and she frowned, staggering slightly to the side and catching herself on the wall. The hum in her head of the TARDIS turned to a sharp pain and feeling of wrong, and she winced, putting a free hand to her head.

"What was that?" Donna demanded, her own hand on the wall for support as the ship reluctantly stabilized. "We've already landed - haven't we?" she asked uncertainly. "Did the Doctor move us without telling? He better not have," she added threateningly.

"We shouldn't have gone anywhere," Lyssa muttered, rubbing her temples as the feeling of wrong increased. "The Doctor isn't in the TARDIS, and he didn't notice any alien tech around that could do this."

Donna abruptly stiffened beside her. "Lyssa," she hissed. "Look!"

Lyssa followed her gaze and blinked.

There in front of her was the Ranger, one arm wrapped tightly around his side - a side covered in rough purple bandages stained with something that looked frighteningly like blood. And beside him...

Beside him was her.

The other Lyssa looked shocked to see them both. She had blood staining her hands and her hair was a mess, but otherwise she looked unharmed. "What? I don't - I don't understand," she stammered, edging closer to the Ranger with wide eyes.

"Lyssa?" Donna exclaimed, switching her gaze between Lyssa and her double in shock. "Lyssa, there's two of you! Why is there two of you?" She turned her attention to the Ranger and looked even more dumbfounded. "And who's he? What happened?"

The Ranger tugged on the other Lyssa's arm. When she looked up at him, his face was even more strained, although he sounded worried rather than pained. "We need to go. This isn't good."

Lyssa's own eyes widened as she examined him more closely. The way her other self looked, the Ranger's wound... it couldn't be!

...Could it?

"But what's going on?" Donna demanded. "Why are there two of you?" She swung on Lyssa. "Did spaceman have something to do with this? Because there is such a thing as -"

"I think I remember this," Lyssa murmured, still staring at the Ranger and her past self - the one from the alternate timeline, for where else could this be from? Goosebumps rose on her arms as she remembered fleeing from the creatures chasing them, and the terror that the Ranger wouldn't survive. His certainty that he would die.

She waited until they were both looking at her, then spoke in a low, earnest voice, the words coming to her easily. "You two have to move. The creatures are coming. Go down the other hallway, turn right, then right again. Hide in the first door on your left. Once you get out, keep going straight. You don't have much time, this is your only chance. Go!" she urged them.

The Ranger didn't stop to argue, physically pulling Lyssa down another hallway at an almost running pace, grunting with each step but refusing to slow. Within seconds, their footsteps disappeared, Lyssa's headache along with them as the TARDIS's hum returned to normal.

Donna swung on her the moment they were out of sight. "Lyssa, what just happened? They were bleeding! What's going on?"

Lyssa let out a slow breath as the adrenaline started to fade. "That would be my past self in an alternate timeline. I figured I'd run into myself eventually, but I didn't think it would be that soon."

"Lyssa, that's not an answer. You're as bad as the Doctor!" Donna complained.

Lyssa grinned. "I think I just closed a paradox, that's all. Or a time loop... possibly both," she mused. "We can keep going now. I think that's why the TARDIS was so finicky when we landed," she thought aloud as Donna reluctantly followed her forward. "She was being tugged in two separate places at once. No wonder she was cranky. I'd be upset too."

"You know what, you and the Doctor deserve each other," Donna muttered. "Does anything you say make sense?"

"There'll probably be food at the party?" Lyssa offered sheepishly.

"And drinks," Donna realized. "Tell you what, after a couple, I might even be able to keep up with you two."

"Good luck with that," Lyssa laughed. "I still don't understand half of it."

They were almost to the console room when Donna spoke up again. "Are you sure the Doctor didn't have something to do with that? I mean, two Lyssa's..."

"Donna!"


A/N: The nose kiss in this chapter is specifically for LadySimp, who requested a kiss lower than my usual forehead kiss. Now, I could have had him kiss her on the hand, but I know that's not what they meant, so I decided to follow the spirit rather than the letter, because I'm a nice author like that.

On a totally unrelated side note, my usual outline for writing my chapters is: What's the best way to frustrate my readers while also giving them exactly what they asked for? (Like I said, completely unrelated)

The Doctor is totally not jealous of Lyssa wearing his past self's coat. That is a totally ridiculous and preposterous idea. His coat merely works better, that's all.

Given that this is Chapter 99, I feel like I should do something special for Chapter 100... *laughs evilly* I look forward to seeing your reactions.

Also, some of you guessed why Nine thought that Lyssa was dying back in Chapter 92, so kudos to you for that! :)

I still can't guarantee when the next chapter will be up, but I hope to see you all soon!

Special thanks to everyone who's favorited and followed, and shout-out to everyone who's commented! This story is now at over 280,000 views, and that is just fantastic. Thank you all so much! Your support is amazing!

Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :)

General Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, just Lyssa.