This story has been slow coming... for me, and as a result, for you. I'm still story-mapping, changing my mind about things, which means I need to make adjustments as I go.

More than anything, I am trying not to give you a Deus ex Machina ending! And of course, there's the handling of social issues (autism, sexual assault), character development - not making anyone, including Daniel Edge, seem one-dimensional - and interweaving the *drumroll* SHIPPITY SHIP. I always try to proceed with care, and this is no different. I feel a bit ham-fisted at the moment with writing Doctor Who and I have my reasons...

But I also have plenty of reason to press forward, so on with the show!


When last we saw our heroes, they were talking with Curtis about the nuances of sexual assault and consent, but as a person with non-typical worldview, Curtis is having a hard time with it. Which reminds me, thank you, Sheena, for your valuable input. I've learned a great deal from you in this journey with Curtis!

Thanks, everyone. Enjoy!


FOUR

Martha and the Doctor invited Tim into the TARDIS for dinner, though they had already eaten, just prior to their forced landing in the Malmay parlour. It was a good excuse to sit down and hash things out, so the three of them partook of some frozen pizza, whatever frozen vegetables they found, and when offered some wine, Tim did not hesitate. The TARDIS-dwellers, however, picked at their food, and poured wine for themselves only so that Tim would not feel alone.

Curtis, on the other hand, chose to skip eating and go back to bed. Tim could quite clearly see him suffering under the stress of the situation, especially with not completely understanding the subtleties of why it was, in fact, such a horrible situation. Curtis simply wanted to save the girl's life, and was keen just to draw the picture. But, the fact that Tim felt there was more to it was not lost on him, and so Curtis believed that there was, indeed, more to it, even though his own grasp of the nuances of their dilemma was not fully-formed.

"You've never spoken to him about consent?" Martha asked over pizza, trying her best to sound non-accusatory. "It seems like someone such as Curtis, someone whose perception of the world differs from that of others, would need to be warned."

"I probably should have done," Tim said, miserably. "But he's never shown the slightest interest in anyone of the opposite sex – or the same sex, for that matter – except in an intellectual way. Sex isn't really on his radar, so it's never come up."

"Really? Never? He's never stumbled across internet porn, or talked about fancying Angelina Jolie, or something?" Martha wondered.

Tim shook his head. "The porn thing… I don't know for sure, but Curtis isn't exactly great at keeping secrets, or his feelings to himself. Something like that can be a bit traumatic to see for the first time – I feel like if he'd seen it, I'd know. And he's never mentioned finding anyone attractive, except maybe to admire their skill. And he talks the same way about Neil DeGrasse Tyson as he does about Keira Knightley – both people he admires for being good at what they do."

"That's fair enough," the Doctor commented, rather mumbling to himself as he swirled wine around in the glass, without drinking it.

"Although, when he created a female character, she was hyper-sexualised," Martha reminded Tim. "Busty, scantily-clad, pouty lips, luxurious red hair…"

"True, but I think he was mimicking what other artists have done, more than he was drawing in response to his own desires or whatever," Tim said. "I know it sounds like I'm idealising my brother…"

"Or, infantilising him?" Martha offered.

Tim continued, "Maybe. But don't forget, that character was created to be stronger and wiser than any of her male counterparts or adversaries."

"Men seeing a woman as fierce and strong does not preclude them from also seeing her as a sex object," she said.

Both men broke eye-contact with her at that moment, if only temporarily. Fortunately, she didn't really register it.

She continued. "In fact, sometimes ferocity and strength provide just as much wank-fodder in the modern world as a nice arse."

"Very cynical, Dr. Jones," the Doctor muttered.

"Don't get me wrong," she said to the pair of them. "It's all normal. Women see men the same way. Humans are sexual beings – as are Time Lords, as the case may be – and if we didn't sexualise each other, life on this planet, and a lot of others, would literally just… fizzle out. And being sexually attracted to someone because of the fact that they're a badass is absolutely legitimate… and definitely better than devaluing those characteristics in favour of only the physical."

"Okay. Thank you," the Doctor said, with a smirk.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have used the phrase wank-fodder," she chuckled. "All I'm trying to say is that Tim shouldn't discount Curtis' interest in sex, just because he didn't create his character as a damsel in distress and/or just because he puts Keira Knightley on the same tier as Neil DeGrasse Tyson."

"Granted," said Tim.

"And therefore, we shouldn't discount Curtis' ability to understand what's going on here, or to understand sexual politics in the future, as his life unfolds," Martha said. She suddenly realised she sounded a bit preachy, so she added, "Not that it's my place to tell you how to relate to your brother."

"I hear you. I'm just going on what I've seen, what I feel in my gut to be true of my brother, whom I've known all my life, and whom I've cared for basically full-time since I was seventeen years old."

"Touché," Martha said. "Your gut-level intuition is not to be scoffed-at, Tim."

Tim sighed. "Thanks. You know, to be honest, you say what you will about his female warrior, but I've personally never really seen concrete evidence that he views men and women as different in any way… except maybe biologically. Which actually doesn't say much about anything, does it? Except that he's maybe a lot cleverer than most people. But do you remember when I said to you that if Curtis were more of an averages sort of bloke, he'd probably really fancy you?"

"Yeah," Martha said, sheepishly. Now it was her turn to break eye-contact. This had been a revelation that had come just before Tim confessed to rather fancying her himself, not a topic she particularly cared to revisit.

"Well, actually, I think he does fancy you, in his way. In fact, Doctor, I think that is a pretty big factor in why he basically ignores everything you say," Tim sighed. "He sees your relationship with Martha as something he'd quite like to have – the travel, the problem-solving, the being-clever-together bit. He probably doesn't realise it, but I would guess that it's more to do with that than him thinking you're a fake. Which he really doesn't. Not deep down."

"It's all right, I've never taken it personally," the Doctor said, waving away Tim's concern. Then he frowned, and complated for a moment. He muttered, "Although... perhaps I should."

"So when I said that, Martha, I suppose I meant that, he's interested in you, without a doubt. But it's not the sort of interest that you'd expect a twenty-five-year-old man to have in… you. I think it might be something akin to romantic – whatever that might mean in Curtis' mind – but not sexual. Like, maybe, marrying you has crossed his mind, but having sex with you has not."

Martha sighed. "I have absolutely no idea what to do with that." And briefly, she thought of how sad it was that she didn't know how to respond to the idea of someone who is romantically, but not sexually, interested in her. Did that make her an unfortunate victim of some sort of demeaning social construct, or was it more evidence of how atypical Curtis' interaction with the world really was?

Perhaps a bit of both. Perhaps neither. The thoughts were unconscious anyhow, and the conversation took precedence.

"It just means, sexual dynamics aren't on his radar," Tim explained. "At least, I've been operating more or less under the assumption that it's not on his radar. Until today, that is. This conversation has made me think a bit harder."

"Well, I suppose if you've just been waiting for the right moment to mention consent," the Doctor said. "You've finally found it."


And, they discussed further details of the Daniel Edge problem they faced.

"He's given us three days to deliver," Tim said, finishing his third slice of pizza.

"So, he wants the picture done by Thursday?" Martha asked.

"Yes."

"Well, at least that gives us a time-frame to work with," the Doctor said. "I always do better with a deadline."

"Sorry, but why didn't he just demand it now?" Martha wondered.

"We told him we had several drawings all backed-up in a queue, and that it takes half a day to produce a fully-coloured piece, especially with human figures in it," Tim answered. "He argued that we could ignore everyone we had in line because he could give us so much money, but I said a man's got to honour a business arrangement, and he went for that."

"Weird," the Doctor commented. "He understands honouring a deal, but not why it's wrong to use irresistible astrophysical forces to compel someone to shag him."

Tim said, "It's not about understanding right from wrong, because he probably thinks he's too rich to be beholden to right and wrong."

The Doctor nodded, and added, "I suppose you're right. And it's not about understanding the similarities between business ethics and interpersonal ethics, because he doesn't care about interpersonal ethics at all. It's about what he, personally, deems important."

"Right," Martha chimed in. "Business, especially business with other men? Important. The preservation of a woman's personal autonomy? Not so much."

"Well, I'm going to dare to say, thank God he's got scruples for something, because without it, we'd be in deep shit," Tim muttered.

"Indeed," the Doctor agreed.


The Doctor and Martha stayed in Leeds, but they did move their vehicle out of the Malmays' flat. The brothers were pressed for space as it was, without an infinitely large blue box taking up more of it. They decided to station the TARDIS in a public park down the street.

The following day was a Tuesday, and over morning coffee and toaster pastries, the Doctor sighed, and confessed that he had no fabulous ideas concerning what to do about the Daniel Edge dilemma.

"As Tim said, it's mostly a human issue," he reminded Martha. "So perhaps it should be on you to have the brilliant insight."

"On me?" she practically shrieked. "On me?"

"Relax, I'm joking," he said, taking a long pull off his mug. "But only marginally. Honestly, interpersonal stuff might be your department. I'm just saying."

"Okay, okay," she conceded, now herself taking a long sip of coffee, realising he might not be wrong. "I suppose we could kidnap that girl he wants…"

"Stephanie Havilland."

"…and remove her from the planet until this all blows over."

"That had occurred to me," he admitted.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah.

"We can't do that."

"I know that much, at least," he told her, with a smirk. "But all joking aside, really, the only thing I can think to do at the moment is go into the library and do some research on the Ifasma Galaxy…"

"The reality-manipulating galaxy?"

"Yep, with which Curtis has a synced-up frequency link at the neurotransmitter level, causing his incredibly odd blessing-slash-curse of an ability," the Doctor finished. "I'm wondering if maybe we could be lucky enough to stumble across something that will show us how to manipulate Curtis' power."

"Manipulate it to do what?"

"Well, that's just it, I don't know. Ideally, make the Edge family step away and leave him alone forever. But I have no idea how that would look."

"It's safe to say that knowing the truth about this would scare the pants off them. Maybe we could kidnap them, instead of Stephanie, and show them what's up, and hope they run for the hills afterwards."

"You're not serious."

"Not really. But it bears thinking about. You and I could easily terrify them," Martha said, with a bit of relish.

"Mm, you're not wrong about that."

"And they've got it coming."

"Again… not wrong."

"Maybe Curtis could just draw them stepping away and leaving him alone forever," she suggested.

"Well, that's pretty risky," the Doctor said. "Considering how his drawings need maintenance. But it's not completely out of the question. Another thing to file away, yeah? Maybe there's a way to boost his power, to make it stick better."

And so, the two of them for lack of any better ideas, retired to the library, and immersed themselves in the handful of volumes they could find, which contained information on the Ifasma Galaxy.

After a couple of hours of reading a tiny-printed, TARDIS-translated volume on the history of the Dewdrop Wilds, the corner of the universe where the Ifasma was situated, Martha jotted down a couple of pieces of info that she found interesting (as she had been doing all along), and leaned back in her chair to stretch. She dug her knuckles into her very weary eyes, and groaned.

"I can't believe you're not just buzzing with excitement, Dr. Jones," the Doctor said, never lifting his eyes from the text he was working on.

"Oh, I am," she said flatly. "We all have different ways of expressing intellectual ecstasy."

He smirked. "I do enjoy these little forays into deadpan sarcasm."

"Me too. And I'm not being sarcastic about that."

"If you need a breather, take one. Go get some coffee. Go for a walk… whatever you need."

"Thanks," she said.

For a few moments, she just sat with her head back, and intermittently with her eyes closed, and stared at the ceiling.

She thought about Tim, and Curtis, and what their lives must be like. Someone like her, or even the Doctor, or someone who works in a group home, or even parents, these were all people who, in some form or another, chose to make other people's problems their own. But Tim had had caretaking foisted upon him by being born after an autistic brother. He loved Curtis, and definitely had his best interests at heart, but what might Tim have liked to do with his life and time, had this not been the case?

"Poor Tim," she mused, not even fully realising it would come out of her mouth out loud.

"Poor Tim?" the Doctor echoed, still perusing the text.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Shouldn't he be allowed to have a life of his own? A life other than caring for Curtis?"

"I suppose, yeah," the Doctor said. "We all play the cards we're dealt."

"Shouldn't he get to go to the pub and just, you know, talk to people? Shouldn't he have a girlfriend?"

"He should, yeah," the Doctor mused. "Though I think the person he currently has in mind for that role is… uninterested."

"Yeah," she sighed.

"Isn't she?" he asked, looking up at her with his eyes only – no other body part moved.

"Yes. Would you let this go, please?"

"Sorry," he muttered, diving back in.

"You're being paranoid."

"I'm not good at reading people," he said, barely audibly. "And I don't want to lose you."

She hadn't heard the last bit, and remained silent for another few moments, while her mind continued to explore the lot of Tim.

"But… has he ever had a girlfriend? I mean, do you get the feeling that maybe he hasn't spoken to Curtis about sex because…"

"He doesn't know much?"

"Yeah."

"It did cross my mind," the Doctor confessed, absently.

"That's so sad," she said. "What if this isn't what he wants? What if he has big dreams, and he just… can't?"

"Well, Martha, I don't know what to tell you. I suppose when you've shackled yourself to a huge responsibility, when you take on an epic caregiving drama and are trying to keep all the balls in the air so that no-one crashes into anything, no matter how much you want to, it would be hard to disengage your mind and heart enough to fall in love."

"Yeah," she repeated, now studying him, wondering if he realised how revealing a statement that was.

He looked up from his book, and leaned back in his chair, much as Martha did, and stared off at a point behind her someplace. "Or, if you did fall in love, you might be reluctant to pursue it because it would be difficult to maintain. You'd be busy all the time, weighed down by this thing you've imposed upon yourself – or that circumstances have imposed upon you – and someone would wind up getting hurt."

She stared at him a little longer, and could practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

"But wouldn't it be worth it to give it a go?" she asked, tentatively.

He finally seemed to realise that what he was saying was extremely transparently personal, and he suddenly shifted his eyes to hers. She softened her gaze, and smiled at him somewhat sadly. "I would think it would be, yes," he whispered.

"Me too," she whispered back.


And that was Tuesday.

Library. Research. Finding out stuff about the Ifasma Galaxy, for better or for worse.

Martha gave up first, and volunteered to arrange dinner for the pair of them. Once she was able to drag the Doctor out of the library by the arm, and into the kitchen for some soup and rice and fruit salad, they were able to finally look each other in the eyes, and talk properly.

"Well, the bad news is," he said, rubbing his eyes again. "There are several frequencies on which the Ifasma galaxy oscillates at the macro- and micro-level. Which means that Curtis probably isn't the only one who has this ability."

"Oh, no," Martha groaned, stopping with her spoon halfway to her mouth. "That's not good."

"Well, the best we can hope for is that he's the only one on this planet," he sighed, taking a sip of his soup. She followed suit.

"Okay, well, if you're interested in what I found out, I wrote some things down," she said, producing a pad of paper from the chair beside her, and pushing it across the table at him. "But I have no idea what to look for. What's significant, and what's not?"

The Doctor passed his eyes over her notes, and said, "The Ifasma Galaxy is orbited by a high-grade magnetic body?"

"Er, yeah," she said. "It's called the Axiothe Field."

"Hunh," the Doctor said, thinking aloud. "It must… I dunno, hold together like a black hole only, like, not as strong. Does that make any cosmic sense?"

"You're asking me?"

"Maybe this can be exploited somehow," he said. "Can you find the spot in the text where you found this info?"

"I can try," she replied.

"It moves around the outskirts of the entire galaxy?"

"I guess so," she told him. "Sounds… not entirely wrong. But bear in mind, I'm not qualified to comment on these things. Damn it, Jim, I'm a doctor, not an astrophysicist."

He chuckled. "I hear you, Bones. But you're the cleverest human being I know, so…"

"Also, I was reading the TARDIS-translated version. It's better than Google Translate, but sometimes it's super-obvious that it's English filtered through some other language. Some of it seemed awfully muddled to me, even not accounting for the fact that I'm not even a little bit expert in the subject matter."

"All the same," he said. "You got this far. If we can find that chapter again, we might be able to do something amazing with it."

"You're always able to do something amazing."


Thank you for reading, folks. I adore reviews, as you know. I'm also needy, which you also know! So, drop me a line, let me know what you're thinking. And thank you for reading!