Eleven walked into the flat and was confronted by Ten.

"You were gone all night." Ten said.

"Yeah, I was with River." Eleven said.

"What, all night?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you were just asking her to marry you."

"I did." Eleven put his keys in the bowl and went to sit on the sofa.

"And?" Ten asked. "How did it go?"

"She said yes." Eleven said. "We're engaged now."

"Er. Congratulations." Ten thought he'd feel happy at this news. He didn't. He didn't feel unhappy either though. He wasn't sure what he felt.

"I just think it's time to be moving on with my life." Eleven said.

"You're moving out, aren't you?" Ten asked.

"No?" Eleven said. "No, not yet anyway. We're not married!"

"But you're going to get married."

"River hasn't even started her masters yet. And she wants to get her PhD in archaeology before we get married, so that's a few years yet." Eleven explained. "I think Four and Sarah Jane will get married first."

"Or Twelve and Missy." Ten suggested.

"I don't think Three will allow it." Eleven said.

"What did happen between him and Delgado anyway?" Ten asked.

"I don't know." Eleven said with a shrug. "But we could always ask Two."


"Doctor." The Culture Secretary said said. "I want you to see to my opposite-"

"I can't get involved in Party political matter." Twelve said, typing Braille in on his computer. "I should remind you now that I don't work for any Party. I'm a civil servant."

"It's not Party matter." She said. "It's a civil service matter."

Twelve stopped typing. "Okay. I'm listening.

"Good. Good. So what's happening is that the Shadow Culture Secretary, his social media manager and one of his Party's press advisors are coming over here for a visit. I'll be dealing with all things political, as will my advisors."

"Sounds right." Twelve said.

"But-and this is a but-I need you to make them feel welcome. You know, make teas, coffees and all that-"

"I'm an intern in communications, not tea making." Twelve argued.

"Yes, but you are an intern." She pointed out.

"So you're getting me to make tea... because I'm an intern?" Twelve asked. "Instead of managing communications, I'm making tea?"

"Yes, and they'll be here soon. So uh, get making that tea."


Twelve sighed as he stirred the coffee he was making. This is not what he had in mind when he'd signed up for the summer internship.

"We meet again." An unfamiliar voice said.

"Ah yes. It's good to see you." The Culture Secretary said.

"Don't lie." Mr Watson said. "We both know how we really feel."

"And uh... when he said he was bringing a 'press advisor' along, I didn't realise that it would be you."

"Yeah, yeah, get on with the fucking pleasantries and get down to fucking business." A Scottish man said.

"Ah. Um..."

"You don't have to say anything. We all know we're here doing work for the Opposition." The unfamiliar man said.

"I'd like for you to not swear, at least in my office-"

"Your office? That's fucking rich right there. How long do you fucking think that this is going to be your fucking office? Because I can tell you this right fucking now, there's going to be a general election and the whole fucking country's planning on it. See this yeah? Don't get too used to it." The Scottish man said.

"You always did have a way with words." She said.

"Yeah well I try my fucking best, darling."

"Doctor, where's that coffee I asked for?" She asked.

Twelve sighed, picked up his cane, which was resting against the table, and the cup of coffee and made his way over to the Culture Secretary and the Opposition delegation.

"You're hiring blind children to make your coffee now? That's a new low, even for your Party." The Scottish man said.

"Yes, well, he's not my assistant, he's an intern." The Culture Secretary snatched the coffee from Twelve. "He's on that summer program for disabled civil service interns."

"Oh really? That makes it so much better, yes indeed!" The Scottish man said sarcastically.

"No need for the sarcasm, Tucker." She said.

"Can we all just not verbally eviscerate each other?" The unfamiliar man asked. "This visit will go much smoother then."

"Right. Come into my office. We can discuss Brexit in there."

Twelve counted three sets of footsteps walking into the office. The problem with that is that there were four people.

"Hey, Blind Kid." It was the Scottish man, Tucker. He'd lagged behind.

"I have a name. It's Dougan but everyone calls me Twelve."

"Oh finally. Someone else who can speak properly." Mr Tucker said.

"Speak for yourself, sweary man." Twelve said.

"Malcolm Tucker. Director of communications and strategy for the Opposition."

"I've heard about you. You were hit by a car the day after my birthday."

"Why's your nickname Twelve?" Mr Tucker asked.

"I'm the twelfth born." Twelve said.

"You're the twelfth... how many brothers and sisters have you got?"

"More than I'd like." Twelve said.

"Yes. Well, you don't have to take it from her, you know. Making the teas and coffees." Mr Tucker said. "You could, I don't know, take it to your superior."

"She is my superior." Twelve said.

"She is not. The head of Government Communications is your boss. And the head of civil service is your boss's boss."

"Tucker!" The other man called out.

"Think about that, yeah?" Mr Tucker said before walking into the office himself.


Ten and Eleven had made a phonecall to their older brother Two on speakerphone on Eleven's phone (which had more credit than Ten's).

"I get the feeling that this isn't a social call." Two said.

"Yeah, it isn't." Ten said.

Two sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"We want to know about what happened between Three and Delgado Masters." Eleven said.

There was a near silence from the other end of the call. The only way they could tell that Two hadn't hung up was because they could hear him breathing.

"Two?" Eleven asked.

"They were best friends." Two said. "Almost inseparable. You have to understand that what happened happened before you two were even born."

"What did happen?" Ten asked. "Two, do you know?"

"I know." Two confirmed.

"Can you tell us?" Eleven asked.

"I... I can't." Two said. "I promised Three I wouldn't."

"You two don't like each other anyway." Eleven said.

"That doesn't mean that promises made to my brothers aren't important." Two said.

"What if we promised not to tell anyone?" Ten said.

"He didn't do anything bad, right? Nobody murdered anyone?" Eleven asked.

More silence.

"Oh my god, who murdered someone?" Ten asked.

"Nobody." Two said, unconvincingly. "There was no murder. Look, I can't tell you what happened. But I can tell you someone who can. Her name is Rani. Rani Ushas. Find her and you'll find the answers."

"What kind of name is that?" Eleven asked.

"A foreign one." Ten said grabbing a nearby notepad. "Two, what was that name again?"

"Rani Ushas." Two repeated. "R-A-N-I U-S-H-A-S." He spelled.

Ten scribbled the name down and closed the notebook.

"She used to be friends with Three and Delgado, before she moved away. She also knew One, me, Four, Five and Six."

"Got it." Ten said. "Thank you for your non-help, Two."

"Well, that's not true." Eleven argued. "We have a lead now, which is more than we had before."

"And if Three asks, I didn't tell you anything. This phone call never happened."

The line went dead.

Eleven picked his phone from the table and pressed the lock button on the top.

"What now?" Ten asked.

"We find this Rani woman." Eleven said.


Twelve finished work that day and sat down in St James's Park. He didn't want to go back home, work had been too horrendous for him to want to get on the Tube. Among people. So he stayed where he was, watching (kind of) the people passing by in a blur.

That was until someone sat down next to him.

"Long day at work, Darling?"

"Hey, Missy." Twelve greeted. "For a second, I thought you were someone who was going to pray for my eyesight to return."

"People actually do that?" Missy asked.

"You'd be surprised." Twelve said. "How many times have you been mistaken for my carer?"

"Yeah, but... you'd expect praying for sight to come back to be a thing that happens in America. They're all god botherers and bible thumpers over there." Missy said.

"Well not all of them, Missy." Twelve said. "But most of them."

"So how bad was work?" Missy asked.

"Stressful." Twelve said. "So fucking stressful. Now I know why politicians have mouths like sailors. Or rather why sailors have mouths like politicians."

"That bad?"

"How was your work?"

"Well, it's obviously not as hard being a waitress as it is being a politician." Missy said. "But I've got to get to my second job as a barmaid in," she paused to consult her watch, "an hour and a half."

"Don't you want to do something more ambitious than waitressing and barmaid-ing?" Twelve asked.

"Oh yes." Missy said. "But waitressing and barmaid-ing pays the rent. And besides, when I graduate, I'll be able to get a better job. Pizza Hut and the pub are only temporary. We're still on for tomorrow, aren't we, Darling?"

"Yeah." Twelve nodded. "We are." He stood up and unfolded his cane.

"That's good." Missy said. She squeezed his hand and stood on tip toes to kiss him.

"I hate when you kiss me unannounced like that, Missy." Twelve said. "You know I-"

"Can't see it coming." Missy finished. "It's almost like that's your favourite joke."

"Well I don't mind." Twelve said. "But since you have an hour and a half, we could do something if you want."

"I'd love to..." Missy said.

"There's a 'but', isn't there?" Twelve asked.

"My bar job's back in Lewisham." Missy explained. "So I have to go back home on the Tube now."

"Then... I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." Twelve said.

"We could... walk down to the Tube station together." Missy suggested.

Twelve nodded. "Then let's do that. Westminster?"

"Sure. Westminster." Missy agreed.


A/N: So River said yes. And Eleven was gone all night. What were they doing? Well... what couples do at night. That's what they were doing. Netflix and Chill, right?

Of course River's studying archaeology. What else would she be studying?

The first hint that Twelve isn't treated well by his /

There is a summer internship for civil servants who are BAME (Black and Ethnic Minority) or disabled. Twelve got his place, obviously, for being blind and autistic.

Twelve and Malcolm have finally met. Their worlds are in orbit. And they're about to collide right into each other, spraying crap all over the place.

Yeah Malcolm's right, Twelve's boss isn't anyone in any Party. It's the head of Communications and then the head of the Civil Service.

Two!

There wasn't a murder. Probably. Do you want to find out? Watch this space.

So Ten and Eleven are now on a hunt for The Rani to find out what happened all those years ago between Three and Delgado Masters. Will they find her? Will they find out what happened? Was there really a murder? Watch this space.

Missy works at Pizza Hut and has a bar job? What madness is this? She obviously has bigger plans, right? Well to that I'd say 'well of course, it's Missy!' What are those plans? Well... they're Missy plans. But suffice to say they involve taking something over...