The TARDIS

"Where are we going?" Ace demanded. The Doctor had woken her up with his noisy passage down the corridor past her cluttered bedroom, at the ungodly hour of 6:00 in the morning, ship's time. She'd come even wider awake, although no less happily, a few minutes later when she felt the TARDIS give its usual shake, preparatory to dematerializing. Something was obviously up, and so was Ace a minute later. She threw on her clothes and headed for the console room.

"I finally remembered where I was when I was ready to regenerate for the first time; I'm entering the coordinates in the TARDIS' memory in case I have to take us there," the Doctor replied, head down as he intently matched action to word. "I don't know why I never did it before," he murmured, half to himself. His voice trailed off as he depressed the last set of buttons with a theatrical flourish. "There! That's done."

"Is that where we're going now?" Ace asked, perking up a bit.

"No," came the disappointing reply.

"Then where are we going?" Ace demanded in exasperation. Really, it was too early in the morning for guessing games!

"We're going to visit Susan," he replied, eyes glued to the console. "I'm long overdue," he added, his voice tinged with guilt. "I haven't seen her since that nasty business with the Death Zone." He paused. "Of course it wasn't me who saw her then, it was me. Me No. 5, that is, although Me No. 1 got to spend a bit of time with her, too, but there wasn't exactly time for a nice chat until my first me took her home." His voice had gone from guilty to wistful.

Ace grinned. "Whatever you say, Professor," she said, then clapped a hand over her mouth and shot him a guilty look of her own. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he merely grunted.

Ace didn't let it bother her. She was excited at the prospect of not only a new adventure, but one of very personal significance to the Doctor. They were going to go see the Doctor's granddaughter, maybe even his first self. The old man seemed like quite a character; hard to think of him as actually being younger than the version she was traveling with now!

Not that they'd been idle since leaving that last planet. She and the Doctor had gone through the TARDIS archives with real purpose, trying to find something, anything, that would explain the mysterious lapses in his memory. Barring that, they'd hunted for physical evidence to replace it--pictures of Susan's parents, of Susan herself as an infant, birth records, anything.

They found nothing. Not that his files were kept up particularly well, but the hard copy and computer records from that particular time period were even holier than the Doctor's memory. He'd admitted sheepishly to Ace that he only repaired the continuous monitoring circuitry during his second incarnation, the period of time Ace secretly termed his "Moe" look. Honestly, that hair was too much!

But Moe hair or not, silly recorder music or not, the Doctor's second self had at least realized the importance of continuous monitoring. Not in the loo or the shower or bedrooms, of course--although Ace would dearly have loved to see what some of his companions did in the privacy of their own rooms!--but in the Console Room, in the Conservatory Garden, and in the myriad other public rooms and corridors that made up the TARDIS' maze-like, constantly changing interior.

Eventually the Doctor had been forced to give up. For whatever reason, he hadn't recorded anything during the period of time when Susan had come aboard the TARDIS, and only spottily up to her 10th birthday. Which just happened to be the exact period of time where the Doctor's actual memories began, and not just the general knowledge that he'd had Susan since she was a baby. Something must have happened; maybe there was a reason no one could know Susan was there. Ace looked forward to the unraveling of the mystery as much as she did to meeting the Doctor's granddaughter. It was almost too good to be true.

Paris

Too good to be true was right, Ace thought disgustedly as she stepped out of the TARDIS. It looked like Earth, all right, but certainly not where she'd expected to find herself when the Doctor announced their arrival. "Grotty looking spot you've brought us to this time," she pronounced as she flashed her torch around the green-tiled walls. The TARDIS view screen had shown them only that they'd materialized inside a darkened room instead of in the small park the Doctor had promised, and merely sat there in stubborn silence when he tried to confirm if they'd at least arrived in late 21st century Earth or not. So out they'd come to investigate, and it looked to Ace as if the only confirmation they'd receive would be of the negative kind. "Does Susan work in an infirmary?"

"No," came the not-unexpected response, the Doctor's voice as hushed as her own. "Drat, this isn't the right place at all," he continued in an aggrieved tone. "Not even the right time, unless I'm very much mistaken." He straightened. "Well, let's just see where we are, then."

Ace had sighed in resignation when the Doctor appropriated her torch and suggested she fetch another one, trotted off to do just that, and found that he'd already started exploring before she got back. Typical, and just as typical was her now rock-solid belief that they'd not arrived in the right time or place. Again. But if the TARDIS brought them here, there must be a reason, so Ace was willing to sit on her impatience. For the moment... "So where are we then? Hullo!" She interrupted herself as she found a table with a stack of books and a couple of small notebooks scattered across its surface. "Have a look at this, Doctor, I think we're in France!" She held up one of the books and shined her torch on it.

"'Franton's Handbook of Modern Anatomy,'" the Doctor translated. "You're right, Ace. Spot on! France in the late 20th, if I'm not mistaken. Here," he said suddenly, "shine your torch on that door."

Ace did as requested, then made a face in the darkness as she read the words written there. "Morgue! Ew, what a creepy place to be at night!"

"Not exactly cheerful," the Doctor agreed. "But the location doesn't interest me so much as the question of why the TARDIS brought us here? Are you trying to tell me something, old girl?" The Doctor patted the edge of the silent blue box distractedly, then headed for the table once again. "Maybe there's something in these notes I need to take a look at."

Ace refrained from asking why they didn't just put on a light as she leaned on the table next to the Doctor. She resigned herself to more waiting as he shuffled through the notes, muttering to himself, felt her eyes and mind glazing over before she realized something had changed. She turned her head sharply, tensing as she realized that the Doctor had stopped speaking, that he wasn't moving and barely seemed to be breathing as he stared at the clipboard he held clenched in one hand. They remained that way for another moment, frozen; just as Ace was about to ask what was wrong, the Doctor moved, slamming the clipboard back down on the table and turning without a word to the interior door that led, Ace presumed, to where the actual bodies were kept.

He ignored her whispered inquiries as to what was wrong, just kept moving until he reached the door, opened it and sped through as if pursued. Ace gave up her questions, just followed him through that dark opening and into the coolness of the other room.

The Doctor startled an exclamation of surprise out of Ace by snapping on the light, momentarily blinding her. When her vision returned to normal, she saw him examining a row of drawers along the far wall, hurrying from one to the other as if looking for one in particular. Which, Ace realized with a jolt, was just what he was doing. She crossed the room, intending to offer her assistance.

When she arrived at his side, however, it was obvious her help wasn't needed. The Doctor had stopped in front of one particular drawer, his hand hesitating on the handle before unlocking it and pulling it open, the expression on his face half-fearful, half-determined.

Ace stepped back as the drawer slid noiselessly open, the covered body she'd braced herself to see lying anonymously on the cold metal slab. Truly anonymous; Ace's rudimentary French told her that the body was labeled "Unknown Female." But not, apparently, unknown to the Doctor, or at least Ace presumed that something in the lab report on this "Unknown Female" made the Time Lord think he knew who she might be.

Before she could ask, the Doctor had removed the sheet from the corpse's face, his entire body taut, as if he hoped he wasn't going to see what he clearly expected to see. "What is it?" Ace demanded. She looked over the unfamiliar body, not as bothered by it as she'd thought she would be. Somehow, the actual sight of a dead body, in all its prosaic reality, was less creepy than just the idea of being in a morgue at night. Besides, it wasn't exactly the first one she'd ever seen. "Is it someone you know?"

The Doctor nodded grimly. "Oh yes, I know her," he answered, his voice rough with some tangle of emotions Ace was hard-put to identify. She studied the woman's face more closely, giving the Doctor time to get himself under control. She wasn't sure how long it would take, since she'd never really seen him out of control, but she was willing to wait.

One thing was certain; she'd never seen this woman before. Or had she? Certain features seemed familiar, but it was a distant familiarity, as if she were recalling a memory of an old photograph. That was it! Ace almost snapped her fingers as it came to her. In the TARDIS database, the files on the Doctor's old companions. This was Romana. The Time Lady Romana something-or-other Ace hadn't bothered to memorize. She smiled to herself with satisfaction, but the smile gradually turned into a puzzled frown. Hadn't the Time Lady regenerated? Yes, she'd been a china-doll blonde when she left the Doctor to stay in E-Space, but the face of the statuesque brunette seemed identical to her first self, even in death. What was she doing here, on Earth? And in this form?

"Fair questions, both of them," the Doctor murmured. Ace turned in surprise, then bit her lip and lowered her eyes sheepishly as she realized she'd voiced her irritated puzzlement out loud. "Questions I intend to discover the answers to," the Doctor continued grimly. "Come on." He stared down at the once-familiar face, reaching out tenderly to brush a strand of brown hair away from her cold cheek. Ace thought she heard him whisper "Au revoir" before he re-closed and locked the drawer. He stared down for another moment, his face expressionless, then turned abruptly and headed for the TARDIS, Ace hurrying to keep up.

She'd barely reached the interior when the Doctor reappeared, holding something in his hand. It was a slender, metal container with what looked like a nozzle at one end. "I can't just leave her here, for them to turn into a science project. By the time UNIT gets her away from them, it'll be too late." He hefted the container defensively, as if expecting Ace to argue with him. But she just nodded, and saw him relax, just a little, before he headed back into the morgue. This time, Ace stayed in the TARDIS. This was definitely something he needed to do in private.

oOo

"I'm certain that she deliberately regenerated into that form as a message to me." The Doctor paced rapidly around the Console room, as he'd done since returning to the TARDIS. He hadn't spoken immediately, just started moving around the room as if it were painful to stand still. Ace just watched him, waiting for whatever information he felt like sharing next. "It was her first self; she was so young," he mused, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Much younger than I, as she was so fond of reminding me." The smile disappeared. "She only regenerated the one time during our stay together, and that was more to tweak me than anything else. Especially the form she chose."

"But who killed her?" Ace asked, wishing they didn't have to do this; the pain was so clear in her traveling companion's voice that she ached in sympathy. "And why?"

"You've touched on the heart of the matter," the Doctor replied thoughtfully. "Who and why, indeed."

Ace was struck by another question. "How did you know it was her? What did that notebook say?"

The Time Lord was silent for a long time, long enough for Ace to begin to regret her impulsive question, but he finally answered. "It was the combined notes of the police report and the tentative coroner's findings."

"What did they say?" Ace repeated, unenlightened.

"They described some curious medical anomalies, of course. That the murder scene had only one body, but there was evidence–hair, blood, the usual bits and pieces of untidiness murder entails–indicating at least nine other possible victims. But no evidence of the killer, who was quite careful to leave no fingerprints or identifying traces of his own, unless some of the blood belonged to him. Or rather, her, as all the evidence came from women." His voice was controlled, somewhat remote, as if he were discussing theory instead of fact, which Ace knew meant he was deeply affected by what they were talking about. Five years together was long enough for her to recognize the signs, so she tried to hurry the conversation to its conclusion.

"So the murderer knew she was a Time Lord," she blurted as the Doctor fell silent once again. "And killed all her regenerations–" She stopped at the look of pain, mortified at her own tactlessness. "Sorry."

The Doctor merely nodded, but Ace could have kicked herself. "So what do we do now?" she asked instead.

"Now? Now we go to England," the Doctor replied. Ace stared at him, not certain she'd heard him correctly. He turned to look at her, a slight smile passing fleetingly across his features. "Yes, I said England," the Doctor assured her. He walked back to stand in front of the console, fingers moving rapidly to punch in the new coordinates. "The Parisian police--yes, we're in Paris, sorry I haven't time to show you the sights–will just have to deal with an unexplained fire that destroyed a body and all notes associated with it. I'm sure the computer virus I introduced will erase all information about the case without causing too much damage to other systems." He didn't sound as if he particularly cared if it did or not. "I think it's time some old friends of mine were brought in on this."

"UNIT," Ace said, as comprehension dawned. The Doctor nodded confirmation, then pressed the final button.

They were on their way.