Chapter Three

The evidence of our confusion, life has left its mark;
The more we fear, the more we lie, the more we hide.

The room was surprisingly comfortable, considering. It had a plush bed, a soft, leather sofa and a neatly appointed bathroom. The only real problem with it was that she couldn't get out.
Sarah paced up and down the red carpet, thoughts racing through her head too quickly. It was no wonder the Doctor had left this place. These people, with their cold, complacent attitude made her shiver...and the way some of them seemed to look at her, as if dissecting her with their eyes...it made Sarah feel like some obscure specimen destined for the vivisection table.
That man in the hall - Goth - he had been the worst. Quite frankly, he gave Sarah the creeps.
Just then, the door to her 'cell' opened, and Spandrell walked in, escorting the Doctor.
Sarah cried out and ran to him, embracing him fiercely. Spandrell's parting words were barely heard over her euphoria at seeing the Doctor again.
"Remember, Doctor, you only have two hours."
The door shut again and Sarah stepped back so she could look him over.
"Are you all right, Doctor?" She asked, noticing straightaway that he had been stripped of those silly orange robes and was now dressed on a pair of plain red trousers, dark boots and a blowsy white shirt. //He really looks...quite dishy dressed like that...// Sarah thought, and then felt colour climb up her face as she realised just what she was thinking.
"I'm perfectly all right, Sarah." The Doctor was reassuring her. She looked up at him.
"So what do we do now?"
The Doctor slumped down onto the sofa, putting his put up onto the coffee table.
"Well, my trial is in two hours, I'll just have to convince them that I've been framed."
"That might not be easy..." She began, but he gently took one of her hands.
"Shhh..." He said, gently tugging her to sit next to him. He leaned in close and whispered, "I have a plan..."
Sarah laughed delightedly, "Now how did I know you would have?"
He grinned his lunatic smile at her before taking hold of her shoulders so she rested comfortably against his chest. Sarah tilted her head back to look at him, reflecting on how...vulnerable he seemed without his thick coat and scarf: as though he had been stripped of his armour. But it was more than that. She could see the tiredness in his eyes, a weariness she only saw when he was physically injured in some way. She passed no comment on it, knowing that no matter what his fellow Time Lords had put him through, he would have to carry on anyway - he would insist on it.
But, she could get him to rest for a little while.
Sarah nuzzled a little closer to him, affecting a yawn and letting her eyelids droop a little. It didn't take much acting, as she was quite tired.
"Tired, Sarah?" The Doctor asked, "Maybe you should sleep."
"Mmm hmm..." She agreed sleepily. The Doctor smiled and picked her up easily, carrying her to the soft bed. But when he set her down and turned to go back to the sofa, Sarah opened her eyes and grabbed his arm.
"Don't go." She said softly. He looked at her for a long moment before settling himself down beside her. Sarah closed her eyes and listened to his breathing until she heard it deepen to the point where she knew he was asleep.
She allowed herself a smile at having achieved even a small victory over Time Lord stubbornness today - it gave her hope for the future.

Sarah was staying as close as she could to him as they walked through the ancient corridors to the council rooms that were being used as a courtroom. She would look up at him occasionally, seeking reassurance from him, her eyes wide with fear. It didn't take much to draw his confident bravado around him, to smile at her and, hopefully, project some of that confidence on to her.
In reality, he wasn't all that certain of the outcome. The Doctor knew why Goth was rushing through this sham of a trial. It had been a long-standing custom for a newly elected President to pardon political prisoners.
It was still sometimes hard for him to believe that his people even kept political prisoners. It felt...harsh, barbaric...even draconian that they should do so. But there were many unpleasant realities implicit in the world of the Time Lords. He had been away for so long that he had almost forgotten how truly unpleasant this place could be to someone who didn't fit into a convenient mould. Well, it was true what the humans said: Absence did make the heart grow fonder.
Still, he had to wonder what Sarah must think of him after seeing and experiencing the indignities she had been put through since arriving here.
"Thank goodness you're nothing like this lot." Sarah whispered to him then, and the Doctor couldn't suppress a brilliant smile.
At least she understood.

The trial dragged on and on. Witness after witness doddered into the 'courtroom' to offer their version of what they had seen. They were almost all old men, their voices as dry as dust and their testimonies cold and clinical.
The Doctor slumped in his chair, scribbling amusing caricatures of the Time Lords as they stood up to testify - quite frequently Sarah had needed to suppress a fit if the giggles at his outrageous little drawings. Only occasionally did he stand up to cross-examine a witness. It was, Sarah reflected, almost as if he were waiting for something.
As it turned out, he was.
The trial was evidently drawing to a close as the tall, haughty Time Lord called Goth stood up.
"Do you have any closing statements to make, Doctor?" Goth asked quite formally.
Sarah smiled to herself, knowing Goth had probably just made a big mistake. The Doctor grinned irrepressibly.
"As a matter of fact, I have." He smiled, "Article 17."
There was a chorus of gasps from all around the room. Sarah looked around, trying to grasp the significance of that particular statement, but the Doctor's next remark made everything clear.
"I offer myself as a candidate for the Presidency."
Sarah blinked in disbelief - this was the Doctor's plan?
"This is outrageous!" Goth snapped.
"Article 17 is a guarantee of liberty and says that no candidate for office will in any way be debarred or restrained from presenting his claim."
"I am aware of what it says Doctor!" Goth yelled.
"The Doctor does have that legal right, Chancellor." Spandrell reminded Goth.
Goth's eyes blazed furiously.
"You have forty-eight hours until the election, Doctor - this court will be adjourned until then."
With that, Goth swept angrily from the room, most of the other Time Lords following discretely.
"Doctor, what was all that in aid of?" Sarah asked in confusion, "What did all that accomplish?"
"It bought me a little more time, Sarah. Forty-eight hours is better than two."
Sarah peered up at him, "So, what do we do now?"
The Doctor nodded towards Spandrell.
"We try and convince the Castellan that I didn't murder the President."
"And then?"
"Hmm? Well, then we go back to the TARDIS." He replied distractedly.
"Good, for a moment there I thought you might have developed a taste for white Presidential robes." Sarah teased.
"Me? Never!"

End of Chapter Three