Sorry for the slow progress, folks. I'm struggling with this one a bit!

When last we saw Curtis, he had announced that he was ready to let the Doctor possibly mess with his brain chemistry, for the sake of Stephanie Havilland. And now, Stephanie Havilland is sitting in the Malmays' parlour!

So what's up? Hope you enjoy!


NINE

The Doctor and Martha both shook hands with Stephanie Havilland, who had turned up at the Malmays' flat, and was now standing, smiling, in front of the tartan sofa.

Tim had snuck out of the room, and returned with two chairs from the kitchen for the Doctor and Martha. They accepted them, and sat across the coffee table from Stephanie. He disappeared again, momentarily and returned with two mugs of tea, one for himself and one for Stephanie.

"Can I get you two some tea, as well?" he asked.

The Doctor and Martha declined, far too fascinated with this turn of events.

"Erm… Tim… Stephanie… wh… why… how… where do I start?" the Doctor said.

"Stephanie knocked on my door about five minutes ago," Tim said, "And when I opened it, I almost passed out."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Stephanie said, with a smile. "You haven't told me why."

Tim was not wearing his forest green and orange jacket at the moment. Rather, it was draped over a the arm of the sofa. He dug into the pocket and produced something, handing it to Stephanie.

"Wh…" she said, moving slightly away from him on the sofa. "Why do you have this?"

It was clearly the photo of herself that Daniel Edge had given Tim.

Come to that, Stephanie looked exactly like she did in her photo. Stick-straight, reddish hair grown just past her shoulders, big green eyes, a wide smile with even white teeth – almost a flawless girl-next-door. She was wearing jeans, the same Converse trainers as the Doctor (only in black and white), and a white tee-shirt with a cartoon rabbit on it, with a caption that said, "Boys lie, and kind of stink." Her keys were on the coffee table. There was a fob with a little frame that said "BFFs" on it, and a photograph of her, with another girl, presumably her best friend.

She gave off a "sweet" vibe, to be sure, but she also had a little something extra. Her eyes sparkled. Her face was expressive and nuanced. Something about the way she sat on the sofa with her knees together and her elbows resting on them, and her hands clasped beneath her chin, suggested a kind of grace. She had a je ne sais quoi, and the Doctor, who had called her merely "pretty" when he'd seen her picture, now understood the appeal, and how she'd got under Daniel Edge's skin.

The Doctor thought it strange to see her there, of course, but also quite a windfall of luck. This was the very woman they were all trying to protect. Knowing first-hand that she was safe, and with them, could significantly open up their options for dealing with Edge.

But before Tim revealed to her why her photo was in his jacket, the Doctor thought it would be more prudent for her to reveal why she was there.

"Hang on a tic," the Doctor interrupted. "Forgive me, er, Stephanie, but what brings you here tonight, dear?"

She looked at Tim, who said, "It's all right. You can tell them. I mean, if you're here to see me, then you might as well talk to them, too."

Stephanie, wide-eyed, somewhat nervous, but with a voice that sang, said, "Well, I had heard through the grape vine that there was a bloke in Leeds who could take care of problems for you. I assumed that meant, you know, if the price was right, and that it would be illegal. But learned on the internet that it's not about the price, it's about the level of need, and the basic… well, innocuousness of the request. They say he turns down people who ask for gobs of money, and that sort of thing."

"That's about the size of it," Tim agreed.

"Wait… the internet?" the Doctor asked.

"Curtis is viral," Martha muttered. "Damn it, we should've known this would happen. Why didn't we know this would happen?"

"Okay, yeah, one thing at a time," the Doctor said. "And with what sort of problem would you be seeking help?"

She sighed. "Do you know who Daniel Edge is?"

There was almost a collective groan in the room from Tim, the Doctor, and Martha.

"Yes, we do," Tim said.

"Let me guess," Martha said. "He's pursuing you aggressively and won't back the hell off."

"Yes! How'd you know?"

"Is he starting to scare you?" she asked.

"He is!" Stephanie answered. "At first it was just flirtation, so I didn't mind it. But then he asked me out… I didn't want to get involved with him, and that family, so I said no. I thought that would be that."

"No such luck," Martha said.

"Not even close!" Stephanie cried, exasperated. "He does not take no for an answer! He asked and asked and asked, kept upping the ante – he'd take me to the Ritz, he'd take me up in the helicopter, he'd take me to fancy parties and meet famous people, he'd take me to Saint-Tropez... but all of that sounds terrifying to me. I'm a simple person, simple tastes, and I want to be with other simple people. I mean, none of that is me!"

"You don't have to justify yourself to us," the Doctor said.

She continued anyway. "I don't want to be with someone who's in the spotlight, who has scary connections and owns bloody casinos and whatnot. And I certainly don't need to be anywhere alone with someone who so blatantly doesn't hear the word no!"

"Everything else aside, there's that," Martha said, with some finality.

"And to be with anyone like that in the long-term would be so exhausting," Stephanie added, illustrating this by sitting back on the sofa with a big exhale.

"What finally brought you here? I mean, what made you think that Edge was a problem that only Curtis Malmay could solve?" the Doctor wondered.

"The last time I saw Daniel, he 'casually' told me that he knew where I lived, and knew my flatmate's name, and knew her class schedule."

"What a prince," Martha commented.

"He tried to pretend it was just a casual conversation, but he's such a prat, and so transparent. Not in so many words, he basically said he knew people in the records office at the university, and implied that he could have my enrollment wiped away, my transcript, all of my records and hard work. And my flatmate's." She sighed, and sat forward again.

"He hasn't threatened you physically yet?" the Doctor asked.

"Not yet, but I reckon it's just a matter of time," Stephanie shrugged. "He's aggressive and powerful and used to getting what he wants."

"Indeed," the Doctor agreed.

"All my friends seemed to think that going to the police with a complaint about the Edge family wouldn't do any bloody good, and I think that's probably true. So I started asking around, and someone directed me to this website called Carrie's List, where there are entries for different companies and whatnot, that provide a variety of services. They told me to dig deep, so I tried to do that. I was looking into private investigators, and in the comments section for one of them, someone had written something like, 'forget this guy, there's a bloke in Leeds who can do stuff for you, lickety split, even more quickly and efficiently.' I scrolled down… some people thought he was full of it, others said they knew about the bloke in Leeds, as well. I got in touch with one of them… and here I am. I knew I was taking a chance coming here, but I reasoned that whatever could happen to me here, meeting with strange men at a council estate, couldn't be any worse than what Daniel might eventually do to me."

"And what were you hoping that the Bloke in Leeds would do?" the Doctor wondered. "His name is Curtis, by the way."

"I have no idea," she said. "I don't even know… what he does. But so many people swear by his abilities – even a few people at the university said they'd heard about him…"

"That's so odd, because it's not like we've helped that many people…" Tim said.

"People exaggerate," Martha muttered. "The internet is a lovely place, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and it's going to get worse before it gets better," the Doctor said absently, but with authority.

"How did you meet Daniel Edge?" asked Martha.

"At a finance seminar in London," Stephanie answered. "There were guest speakers in the conference rooms and on the main floor, booths where you could sign up for camps and smaller, more specific seminars and hiring programmes and whatnot. My professor was a speaker, and another student and I went to assist. The Edge family had several booths. I told him I was a student at Middlesex, and he tracked me down there, and has several times been waiting for me outside my classes when I've finished."

"That's creepy," Martha commented.

"You know," Stephanie said, cocking her head to one said. "He knows where I go to uni – it helped him find me so he could stalk me. But in all this time, he's never asked what I study, or what I was doing at that conference. He just keeps trying to get me to go out with him. Or sleep with him. Probably like a trophy or something."

"Well, you don't have to be anyone's trophy," Martha assured her. "We're going to take care of this."

"You are?" Stephanie asked.

"Yes," the Doctor answered.

"Who are you?"

"Well… Curtis solves problems his way," the Doctor said. "But his way causes more problems. Martha and I solve those problems, and we're currently working on a way to solve his problem, and your problem, without causing further problems."

Stephanie blinked hard. "I'm sorry… what?"

"Look," Tim interceded. "Let's just get all the cards out onto the table. Stephanie, Daniel Edge came to us on Monday afternoon, hoping Curtis could solve the problem of… you."

"The problem of me?" she asked, shocked. "What does that mean? That I wouldn't just say yes?"

"Yep," he confirmed. "He wanted Curtis to try and force you."

"What?" she said, getting to her feet quickly.

"Which I had to forbid," Tim said, putting up his hands defensively. "Because… well, obviously, it wouldn't be right, and my brother, bless him, doesn't fully understand why. But Edge gave us a wad of money and a deadline…"

"And that's when they called us," the Doctor told her. "To figure out how to get free of being beholden to and/or pissing off the Edge family, without becoming accessories to rape."

"Oh," Stephanie said, sitting down on the sofa. "And have you worked out a way?"

"Maybe, but it's going to cause…"

"…problems," Stephanie finished. "Got it."

"More than just problems," Tim said. "It might destroy my brother."

"Now, that's a bit of an overstatement, Tim," said the Doctor. "Besides, Tim, that's what Martha and I came to do – pick up Curtis and take him, erm… to where we take people."

"Yeah," Martha said. "We spoke to him about an hour and a half ago, and he said he's willing to risk the solution we told you about. For Stephanie's sake."

"Wait, what does that mean?" Stephanie said.

For the moment, her question went ignored.

"What the hell do you mean, he's willing to risk it?" Tim asked, hands on hips, agitated again. "And how could you have talked to him?"

"He said he stormed out because you were being a prat," the Doctor said. "Then phoned us."

"Okay, I kind of was," Tim conceded.

"We met up with him at that chip shop around the corner, and he said he felt cursed, and he wanted to do whatever it took to be rid of his ability," Martha explained. "And specifically this consequence of his ability."

"Wait, wait," the Doctor said holding out both hands. "He hasn't come home yet?"

"No," Tim said.

The Doctor looked at Martha. "He left the chip shop at half ten. Said he was going to come home to break the news to Tim."

"Yeah, he did," she agreed.

"So where is he?" Tim wondered, even more concerned now.

"Well, now, that's the question isn't it?" the Doctor asked, irritated.

"Hang on," Tim said, and he disappeared down the hall. He came back twenty seconds later and said, "The drawing is gone."

"What drawing?" the Doctor wondered.

"The one he started of…" Tim said, gesturing toward Stephanie. "The one with no faces."

Martha's eyes got very large, and she stood up. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Tim confirmed. "My brother is a creature of habit. He keeps his sketchbooks in his second drawer, and the drawings in the sketchbooks. The sketchbook he used is there, but the drawing isn't in it!"

"Why would he have taken it with him?" Martha wondered.

"God only knows!"

"Wait, what is so special about the drawing?" Stephanie asked, confused, now standing up, as well.

The three of them just looked at her for a few moments, while they all contemplated how to explain.

The Doctor gave a great sigh, and reckoned that since they were now in the territory of the truly weird, it was on him to explain. He joined them all, standing.

"Okay, Stephanie," he said. "This is going to be hard for you to believe, but I'm going to need you to keep an open mind, okay?"

She frowned. "Erm… okay…" she said, very slowly, clearly not trusting him.

"Do you believe in… okay, let's say, phenomena outside of what humans consider to be the norm?"

She put her hands on her hips. "What the hell are you on about?"

"Just answer the question."

"Well," she said, putting her hands down. "I suppose… not really. Do you mean like ghosts and magic?"

"More like aliens."

"Oh, that… that's different. I mean, we've got evidence now, haven't we?"

"We have," the Doctor conceded. "Okay, so then keep in mind that what I'm about to tell you is alien, and not paranormal."

"Okay," she said, again sounding rather mistrustful.

"And that there's a scientific explanation for all of it."

"Okay."

"Curtis can manipulate reality with his drawings."

Stephanie was silent, as her eyes flitted from one face to another, for several moments. Then she put out one index finger in a show of toughness, and said, "Look, I didn't come here to be mocked."

"I swear, it's the truth," the Doctor assured her. "Curtis is autistic. There's a neurotransmitter in his brain that does not fire at the typical level, which causes some of the symptoms of his autism, but it also happens to put his mind in synch with a galaxy across the universe, where the inhabitants can manipulate reality."

"That's insane," Stephanie said, meekly. Tears were coming to her eyes. The Doctor didn't know if this was because she was feeling overwhelmed by the information, or because she was sorely regretting coming here, and was, in fact, terrified of the people surrounding her.

"It sounds like it, I know," the Doctor conceded, careful to be gentle. "But it's true."

"It is," Martha added. "Because of it, he can channel the power of that galaxy, combined with his extraordinary artistic talent, and cause things to… manifest. Daniel Edge wanted Curtis to draw a picture of him, of Edge, having sex with you."

Tears fell now. "What?" Stephanie asked, her face crumpling and creasing.

"He was specific that it needed to be consensual sex," Tim said. "Because he didn't want to be accused of rape. But how could it ever be consensual?"

"It couldn't," she squeaked.

"And that's why we're all standing here talking about it, instead of enjoying the money Edge paid us," Tim said, with finality.

"So, all he'd have to do is basically draw a pornographic sketch of me and Daniel, and the two of you could be financially secure for life?" she asked.

"That's right," Tim said.

"But you're forbidding him to do the drawing?"

"That's right," he repeated.

"Because of me? A stranger?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my God," Stephanie whimpered. "What happens if he doesn't do the drawing? What has Daniel threatened to do?"

There was silence.

"Do you really want to know?" the Doctor asked her, gently.

"Yes!"

The other three looked at each other with resigned dread.

"He's threatened either to kill you, maim Curtis' hands, or both," the Doctor told her.

Stephanie sat back down on the sofa. She buried her face in her hands and cried.

Martha crossed to the sofa, and sat down beside her, knowing that both men would be afraid to. "I know… it's a lot," she said, and she put her hand on Stephanie's back. To her surprise, the young woman leaned into her, so Martha put her arm around her, and let her weep.

The Doctor and Tim sat back down in kitchen chairs, and waited.

Within a couple of minutes, Stephanie had calmed, and she wiped her eyes. "You guys aren't fucking with me are you?" she asked. It wasn't actually a question, but rather, a realisation.

"No, we're not," the Doctor said.

"And Curtis was supposed to come home when? An hour ago?" she asked.

"Oh shit!" Tim said, jumping up to his feet again. "Yes! Where the hell is he?"

The Doctor sighed. "Tim, I think we have to accept the possibility that Edge intercepted him."

"Goddamn it!" Tim shouted. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

It occurred to Martha and the Doctor separately that Curtis' absence should have been much more conspicuous than it was, and the panic should have surged long before now. But this conversation with Stephanie needed to happen. If nothing else, her presence was understandably distracting. But also, probably helpful, in the end.

"When was the deadline?" Stephanie asked.

The Doctor said, "Today. Thursday, that is… it's just after midnight now."

"You were right," Tim hissed. "You said he might come after us just after midnight because the arsehole doesn't play fair."

"Yeah, well, this isn't my first rodeo," the Doctor muttered. "The important thing now is that Daniel Edge probably has Curtis, and the drawing he started."

"Oh!" Stephanie piped up. "He started the drawing! Of me and Daniel, and there's no face… that's what you were talking about before!"

"Yes," Martha told her. "He said he did it because he didn't know what else to do. Sorry."

"So, you can tell what's going on in the drawing, but not who anyone is?" Stephanie confirmed.

"That's right," the Doctor said. "But Edge could probably force him to finish it."

"Then we'd better find them," Stephanie said.

"How?" asked Tim.

"Drive around?"

"And then what? Yell out the window?"

"No," the Doctor said. "Go to posh hotels. Go to casinos. Go to places where a guy like Edge might frequent. It's a start, anyway."

"Okay," said Tim, swallowing hard, clearly trying not to cry. "Let's do it. We'll find Curtis."

"Do you mind driving?" the Doctor asked Stephanie.


Uh-oh!

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