"Oi, Doctor, there's been a stabbing at the fucking Home Office." Clarke said.

Twelve snapped from his daydream (work was too boring). "Wait, what?"

"I just saw it as an alert on my phone-"

Twelve tapped his phone's home button and tapped on the alerts.

Home Office cordoned off by armed police amid reports of a stabbing. Siri read.

"Yeah, I've had it too." Twelve said. "Never a fucking slow news day."

"What's happened?"

"Try and fucking keep up, Jones, there's been a stabbing at the Home Office." Clarke said.

"The Home Secretary?" Jones asked.

"I don't know." Twelve said, tapping twice on the screen.

Home Office cordoned off by armed police amid reports of a stabbing.

"Yes, yes, we know that part." Twelve scrolled down.

Thursday 15 August 2019 14:33

The Home Office building has been cordoned off by armed police amid reports of a stabbing.

"Doctor, stop your phone from repeating the same shit over again." Clark said. "Get it to say something new."

The Independent understands that a victim is thought to have been stabbed or slashed near the government department's headquarters in Marsham Street, Westminster.

The building was cordoned off by armed police on Thursday afternoon, as staff remained inside.

More follows...

"Jesus H Christ." Jones said.

"I wonder what happened." Clarke said.

"Isn't it fucking obvious-someone was either stabbed or slashed at the Home Office. And that someone may or may not be the Home Secretary-Schroedinger's Knife Crime, see." Twelve said.

"Alright everyone!" The Culture Secretary clapped her hands. "There's been a stabbing! Doctor-you are to send a fucking Tweet saying how sorry I am that this has happened, Jones, keep the press away from me and onto the Home Secretary, and Clarke, just reach out to Tucker and his lot, get their reaction to all this. Cal, in my office with me."

As the door slammed shut, frantic phone calls were made.

"Sky News are all over it like a rat up a drainpipe." Clarke said. "According to them, a man suffered life threatening injuries and an ambulance is there." A pause. "Well I don't know if it was a fucking civil servant or not. A civil servant might have been the one to do the fucking stabbing. Well of course I have to swear, it's the only language you fucking know!"

"Put your attention onto the Leader of the Opposition; the man man wants to call No Confidence in the PM so he can be PM for a week!" Jones said. "And the other Parties say yes! Focus on that, not the stabbing!"

"The fucking Met are dealing with it-they've arrested the guy." Clarke said. "Yes, for fucks sake, we just want you to fucking agree that it's bad!"

"Make sure that the Leader of the Opposition wanting to be PM is the top story on BBC News, not the stabbing-"

Twelve stood up from his chair, unfolded his cane and walked out of the room away from the shouting.

It had been a rough news day so far. Prep for a General Election, an MP announced his intent to stand down, another MP crossed the floor, the Leader of the Opposition wants to be PM to stop Brexit, which is barrelling toward them, the detention of an Iranian tanker at Gibraltar and now a stabbing at the Home Office. This was supposed to be Summer Recess, yet more was happening now than before Summer Recess!

It was all too overwhelming. And Twelve didn't like overwhelming.

"There's fucking sheep outside." A passing civil servant said.

"What?" Asked another one.

"Sheep. Actual sheep. Part of a protest or something." The first one said.

"Jesus Christ what is even going on today?" The second one said.

Twelve didn't know either. This day had just taken a turn from bad... to weird.


Eleven was in the City with River. They'd been walking around South Bank and Eleven had got tickets for the London Eye, and they were just trying to kill time until it was their turn.

"Come on, let's go to St. James's Park and feed the birds or something." Eleven suggested. "Maybe we'll see Twelve."

"Why would Twelve be here?" River asked.

"Oh he works around here." Eleven answered. "I don't know exactly where, but-"

"I thought he worked in government and isn't the government in recess?"

"Yes, but he's a civil servant. He's still working."

They stepped onto Westminster Bridge.

"Oh right." River nodded. "You know, I didn't know that. I always thought that once Parliament went into their summer recess, that the MPs would work among their own constituencies or something, but I suppose with Brexit coming up and Jeremy Corbyn's plan to block it..."

"... yes. Well, I suppose backbenchers do go home. The Cabinet and Shadow Cabinet probably don't." Eleven reasoned.

"What happens to their constituencies?" River asked.

"I'm honestly not sure." Eleven said. "I don't know what happens."

"So you really think we're going to see Twelve?"

"I don't know. I mean I know he works in Westminster and in the government, not the banks, and he's a Civil Servant." Eleven said.

"So that's a 'maybe', then." River said.

"Everything's a maybe, River." Eleven said. "Will the sun rise tomorrow? Maybe. Will the President cause a nuclear war with Iran? Maybe. Will the Prime Minister cause a no-deal Brexit-"

"Definitely." River said.

"Maybe." Eleven corrected. "We don't know what's going to happen, really. Nothing's certain one way or the other. Except the things that are."

"And those things are...?"

"The things that have already happened." Eleven said.

River gave a small shrug. Eleven was right. Of course he was right.

"But then, even those things aren't certain either." Eleven said. "History's written by the winners. But we did go walking on South Bank. And that is a certainty."

"I must say I find your way of thinking very confusing." River said.

"It's all about thinking fourth dimensionally."

"Ah." River smiles. "Back to the Future."

"I love that film." Eleven admitted.

"And another fucking thing," an angry Scot shouted on the other side of the road, "you give your fucking condolences to whatever fucking civil servant was killed or whatever."

"Is it me, or does he look familiar?" River asked, discreetly pointing at the man.

The angry Scottish man was tall and had short, grey hair and very angry looking eyebrows. His right cheek was scabby and his right arm was in a sling and immobilised at his side. He was clearly shouting down his phone at someone, though nobody seemed fazed. It was almost as though they were used to it.

"Kinda looks like a sighted Twelve." Eleven said. "Only Twelve's hair is wilder and curlier and white and this guy's is clearly straight and short. And he's a lot older and wrinklier and Twelve's not wrinkled at all-"

"I thought it was Malcolm Tucker. You know, that politician guy?" River asked.

"Shit, it is too, isn't it?" Eleven said.

"You know, I think you're right. He does look a bit like Twelve." River said.


Thirteen was sitting alone in Green Park. Sometimes it was fun to feed pigeons stale Malted Milk biscuits.

"Need any help, love?" Yet another person asked her.

Thirteen sighed. "No."

That's what she hated about being out alone. That and the rampant sexualisation. And people trying to grab her wheelchair, but being pissed off then they realised there wasn't any handles. And the people who did it anyway.

She waited until the person had walked away before throwing more crumbs out for the pigeons.

"What are you doing?" She heard someone ask.

Thirteen looked up and opened her mouth, ready to defend herself, when she realised she knew this particular person. It was Kate Lethbridge-Stewart wearing running gear.

"Oh. Uh, feeding the pigeons." Thirteen answered. "My brothers left a pack of Malted Milks get stale so now they're pigeon food. I didn't know you ran in Green Park."

"I usually run in Hyde Park." Kate answered. "But Dad's got something on there today. Some kind of drill with your older brother."

"Do you know what UNIT does?" Thirteen asked.

"I'm not at liberty to say anything about what I may or may not know about UNIT." Kate replied. She took her iPhone from its pouch on her arm and frowned.

"What?" Thirteen asked.

"There's been a stabbing at the Home Office." Kate said. "I think it's a civil servant."

"Who stabbed someone?"

"Who was stabbed."

"Oh my god, is it Twelve?" Thirteen asked. "I need to know if it's Twelve-phone your father, he'll know."

"Does Twelve work at the Home Office?" Kate asked.

"I don't know, he won't say where he works." Thirteen said.

Kate bit her lip and unlocked her phone. She scrolled through her contacts until she got to the one she wanted and called them.

"Benton? No, not 'Katie', it's just Kate. I need you to do me a favour. There's been a stabbing at the Home Office and I need you to tell me who was stabbed." Kate explained. "Yes it's important. You know your friend Three? Well, it might be his little brother and my friend, Twelve." She sighed loudly. "Then please tell me what you know."

Thirteen leaned forward in her wheelchair, trying to hear the phone.

"Really?" Kate said in surprise. "You don't know? You don't know or you won't tell me? Yes, there's a difference, Benton. Look, my father... yes I know I don't want preferential treatment. But please just tell me if Twelve's alright." She said, almost desperately. "Er... I don't know his first name, but his last name's Doctor. Yes I know Twelve Doctor is a stupid name, but it's not his real name, is it?"

"What's going on?" Thirteen asked. "Kate." She tapped Kate's arm. "Kate."

Kate ripped the phone away from her ear. "Shush!" She said, bringing the phone back. "Yeah, no not you-I'm with someone. Dougan? That's an unfortunate name-no, that's an alliterative name. Jesus what a name."

"I could have told you his name." Thirteen said.

"Yeah. Media? Digital, Media, Culture and Sport? He's with the DCMS? So not the Home Office? Alright thanks, Benton. I owe you one." Kate took her phone from her ear again and this time, hung up.

"What's going on? Is Twelve okay?" Thirteen asked.

"Twelve's fine." Kate said. "He works for the Culture Secretary, not the Home Secretary. Different offices. Different part of Westminster. He's fine."

Thirteen let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god."

"You worry about him, don't you?" Kate said.

"No more than I worry about my other brothers." Thirteen said.

"I can't imagine what it would be like having to worry about so many siblings." Kate said.

"I don't know any different." Thirteen said. "One was three years old when Two and Three were born. So he was an only child. I was born when there were already thirteen of them. First girl too."

"I honestly can't imagine." Kate said.

"Don't you have brothers and sisters you worry about?" Thirteen asked.

"No, no I'm an only child." Kate replied.

"I wonder what that's like." Thirteen mused.

"What's it like being one of... however many siblings you have?" Kate asked.

"Busy. Crowded. Annoying. You never get any personal space, even on the toilet. But there's always someone on your side. And there's less chores because they're shared out with all of us. And we're always celebrating something. The Secret Santa's brilliant."

"What about the hand-me-downs?"

"Oh I didn't have any." Thirteen said. "First girl, so everything I got was brand new."

"Huh." Kate said.

"Okay, brand new to my family from the charity shop."

"Ah." Kate nodded. "I... I wouldn't know what any of that's like. Anyway, I'm glad Twelve's okay."

"You can stay and feed the pigeons with me, if you want." Thirteen said.

"I'm still on my run." Kate said.

"I'll come with you." Thirteen unlocked the brakes on her wheelchair.

Kate furrowed her brow. "What's... something's happened, hasn't it?"

"I just don't want to be alone." Thirteen said.

A young woman and her boyfriend, maybe her husband, passed by Thirteen and Kate. They were in Green Park where many people passed by. It wasn't particularly noteworthy, except they approached Thirteen and Kate.

"Oh I think it's so wonderful that people like you are out and about, just enjoying the sunshine." The young woman put her hand on Thirteen's shoulder.

The boyfriend (husband?) cringed slightly and so did Thirteen. Kate watched on in a state of sort of muted horror.

"Well done for getting out." She patted Thirteen on the head and turned to Kate. "Are you the carer?"

"No, I'm not now don't patronise my friend." Kate snapped.

"I told you to leave it." The boyfriend (definitely husband, the wedding rings gave it away). "She's not brave for living her life."

Thirteen nodded at the man. "Thanks."

The man grabbed his wife's hand. "Come on. Let's go." He said.

"Let go of me!" The wife said. "How dare you demand-"

"I wasn't demanding anything!"

Thirteen looked at the arguing couple before turning her chair and wheeling herself away.

Kate jogged after her. "What the hell was that?"

"That, Kate, is what I put up with every day." Thirteen said. "Though usually it's a lot worse. That was pretty mild, to be fair."

"Mild?" Kate asked. "That was not mild, that woman patted your head and called me your carer."

"At least she addressed me." Thirteen shrugged. "Usually when I'm with someone, I don't get addressed at all."

"God. I'm so sorry." Kate said.

"Just forget about it." Thirteen said.

"Alright." Kate nodded. She couldn't help but wonder though, if that's why Thirteen didn't want to be alone.

"So how's, uh, things?" Thirteen asked.


Eleven and River had made it on the London Eye and were very slowly making their way to the top.

"It's really nice up here, Eleven." River said as she casually leaned forward on the grab rail.

"It is, isn't it?" Eleven pulled nervously at his bow tie.

"Something wrong, Sweetie?" River asked.

"Nothing." Eleven said. "Look, you can see the Palace of Westminster over there." He pointed out of the pod window towards the Palace of Westminster.

"It's a shame Big Ben is under refurbishment." River said. "The view would probably be better."

"Actually, it's the tower under refurbishment." Eleven said.

"Huh?"

"Big Ben is the bell, not the tower. The tower is Elizabeth Tower."

River wandered over to the other side of the pod after noticing another person leaving that spot. "Look, it's Charing Cross."

"I wonder which one of those government buildings Twelve works in." Eleven said, pointing slightly to the left.

"It's the BT tower-wow, you can see everything from up here." River said. She was focussing on the view from outside the pod.

Eleven awkwardly cleared his throat and pulled out a little box from his inside jacket pocket. He became acutely aware of the other people in the pod starting to stare at him as he got down on one knee. "River." He said, stopping to rub his wet palm on his trousers.

River turned around to see Eleven on one knee and holding the little box. Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth as Eleven opened the box to reveal a dainty silver ring with a small emerald mounted in the middle, surrounded by smaller diamonds.

"River Song. Melody Pond. Will you, er... will you marry me?"


A/N: Yes, there really was a stabbing at the Home Office that day. Some guy went bananas, took out a knife from his bag and slashed an elderly civil servant while he was holding a ferret. It was all very weird.

The alerts Twelve had on his phone were actual alerts I received on my phone.

And that bit from The Independent that Twelve had Siri read out was an actual article from The Independent.

Schroedinger's Knife Crime is a quote by me to my friends when we had those alerts. We didn't know if it was Priti Patel been stabbed (after the Jo Cox assassination, nothing can be ruled out), so I said 'Schroedinger's Knife Crime' in the fic.

Alex McGuinness is the real life reporter for the Sky News website who said 'a man suffered life threatening injuries and an ambulance is on the scene' in his report.

Another thing that's true; Jeremy Corbyn wrote to all the leaders of the opposition parties asking them to work with him and call No Confidence in Boris Johnson and install him as caretaker prime minister to stop a no deal Brexit. This alliance of the Labour, SNP, LibDems, Plaid and Green Parties (as well as some Independents, formerly Tories). it was known as The Rebel Alliance, like something out of Star Wars.

An MP named Sara Wollaston really did defect to the Liberal Democrats that day.

An Iranian oil tanker really was detained in Gibraltar that day.

A Labour MP really did announce his intent to step down that day too! And he was my MP!

And, get this right, that day farmers genuinely marched down Whitehall with their sheep to protest a no deal Brexit because farmers are heavily subsidised by the EU. A lot of things went on that day, as you can see.

Yes, MPs go home and work within their constituencies during summer recess. I'm assuming they're doing so now, through the prorogation. The cabinet still go back and forth as needed. I'm not sure about junior ministers though.

Eleven's right, everything's a maybe. The sun will come out tomorrow, well, maybe, Annie. Maybe. Nothing's ever certain. Although nuclear war with Iran's looking... well, the chances of not going to war with Iran aren't looking good. But it's still a maybe.

Malcolm Tucker's world is slowly colliding into Twelve's and Twelve's world is slowly colliding into Malcolm Tucker's. And it's not going to be pretty for either of them when their worlds do collide.

If you don't know what Malted Milks are, they're hard to explain. Just google them. They taste excellent. My favourite biscuit by far. I'd never let them go stale.

Kate! I had hoped to introduce her sooner, but I couldn't find the right time.

Hyde Park and Green Park are right by each other. So is St James's Park. I love all the London Parks. Except Battersea. I've never been there, so I can't comment. St James's is my favourite though. I have a real soft spot for St James's.

Yes, Kate's on the phone to John Benton.

I'm an only child, I'm afraid. But my aunt and uncle have a huge family and I was always over there. Everyone shared bedrooms-boy or girl, nowhere was ever tidy, everyone had hand me downs (myself included!), and milk bottles didn't last a day. But it was nice because I always had someone to play with and older cousins on my side.

The interaction between Thirteen, Kate and the married couple is based on something I witnessed with my wheelchair using friend (who I'm going to admit, is a boy).

The Palace of Westminster is where the Elizabeth Tower and the Houses Of Parliament are located.

Big Ben is not the tower, Big Ben is the bell! There were four other bells in the tower. The tower is called the Elizabeth Tower. That's what's under all the scaffolding at the moment.

Charing Cross is the train station in Westminster.

The BT Tower is the radio tower in the middle of London.

All of that is visible from the London Eye. I've been up there and was scared witless every second as I don't like heights. But if you've never seen it, google pictures and have a look at what you can see from in there.

The ring. The ring described is an actual ring that you can get from H Samuel.

So will River say yes? Or no?