AN: Hello darlings! Gosh, it's been a while. Terribly sorry about that, but it's really not my fault - medical school is one hell of a time eater! All the free time I've had has gone on eating and sleeping recently, and a big old kick of writers block on top of that really hasn't made things any easier.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 8: Blink
As he strolled down the street, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, the Doctor cast his mind back to the last three and half weeks that they had spent in 1969. Things had certainly got off to a rocky start. Both Romana and Martha were furious with him - he supposed they had every right to be, considering he'd tricked them into being killed by a Weeping Angel. It had taken a whole ten days for either of them to utter a single word to him; and the only reason they'd broken their silence was because he'd managed to break the kettle within two minutes of touching it. He'd only been trying to adapt it a little bit, to make it capable of boiling faster! But it had all gone disastrously wrong, and it had culminated in a three way shouting match that had brought the neighbours around knocking. When the middle aged woman from the flat next door had left, still shaking her head and tutting, they had fallen about laughing, a little of the tension fading. Oh, they had definitely still been pissed off at him, that was for sure. But they were slightly less angry after that little incident.
The cool summer breeze ruffled his already scruffy hair as he ducked into the flower shop where Martha had got her job, grinning at the slightly alarmed look on her face. "Afternoon."
"What are you doing here?" She kept an anxious eye on him whenever he got close to one of the displays she'd spent all morning on. She'd put far too much effort into making them look stylish to let him make a mess. "We told you not to leave the flat."
He shrugged. "I got bored sitting around all day."
"Bored because you broke something again?"
"No… I promise!" She didn't look convinced at all, and he sighed. "Fine, I think one of the tubes burst in the back of the TV."
"Oh, and I wonder who's fault that could be."
He groaned. "God, you sound more like Romana every day. You're spending far too much time together."
"Again, also technically your fault. Seeing as, you know, you're the reason we're stuck here in the first place." Smirking at the kicked puppy look on his face, she leant against the counter. "So why did you come down here?"
"Fancied taking the two of you out to lunch, that's all."
"That's it? There's nothing you're trying to make up for, or distract us from?"
"Obviously there isn't!"
"Well the last time you took us out for lunch, it was because you'd manage to blow up every light bulb in the flat."
"Ah, yeah."
He looked properly sheepish now, and she decided to put him out of his misery. "Look I would, but I offered to switch my lunch break with Celia so she'd get the chance to say goodbye to her little sister. She's getting on the train back to boarding school today, so…"
"Right, yeah, of course. So, that's a no?"
Martha rolled her eyes. "Yes, Doctor. That's a no. Go and have lunch with Romana, and stay out of trouble."
"Oi, I never get in trouble deliberately!" He huffed, folding his arms across his chest. "Alright, I'll see you later then."
"Yep. See you." As he left, the little bell on the door tinkling softly, she grinned. Her cunning plan had worked rather well.
Since leaving 1913 and the difficulties of Farringham Boy's School behind, her main objective had been to get the Doctor and Romana to realise that they were in love with each other. It was blatantly obvious. Even the eyeless monsters that they had encountered a couple of weeks after things went back to normal seemed to have noticed it, always referring to the two of them as being together. They'd laughed it off of course, both saying the same thing - 'Well, obviously. We've been friends for centuries, that's what it is.' It was starting to drive her mad that they hadn't caught on.
Every time she walked into the console room, it took them a good few moments to notice that they had company. They got lost in each other's eyes and thoughts so easily, swapping stories of antics with school friends or discussing places they wanted to see. It wasn't unusual to find them sprawled across the floor, surrounded by bundles of wires and circuitry, deep in debate over how to fix a particular bit of equipment. Frankly, Martha hadn't noticed any difference in the smoothness of the Tardis' flights so far, so she didn't really see the point of interfering with everything. Nevertheless, it seemed to make them happy. And seeing them happy was definitely preferable to the alternative. She felt like she'd seen enough of the Doctor's brooding for a lifetime.
The two of them had been a lot more touchy with each other since the sun incident in particular. She'd noticed that whenever they had to run, it was always Romana's hand that he went for first. Even on the rare days where there was no imminent danger to them, the two would walk around with their fingers grazing against each other, claiming it was so any getaway would be smoother. It was one of the worst excuses she'd ever heard, and yet they seemed to believe it entirely. The Doctor was constantly touching Romana, too; a hand on her back or arm for the tiniest of reasons, gentle fingers tucking errant ginger hairs behind her ears, hands brushing together as they manned the console. To a total stranger, the attraction they felt towards each other would have been crystal clear. And yet somehow, neither of them ever acknowledged it.
So now she was doing her best to push them together as much as possible, doing everything short of smacking their heads together and telling them to get a grip on reality. And skipping out on lunch was one of them: she'd lied to his face. Celia had asked to swap her lunch break, but she'd wanted the later slot, so Martha would've been perfectly available to go with them when he'd asked. But her idea was that the more time the two of them spent alone together, the more likely they were to put two and two together. At least, she certainly hoped so. Tiptoeing around like a third wheel for a nonexistent couple was starting to get exhausting.
Enjoying the atmosphere of the university, the Doctor took his time wandering the halls, trying to remember the directions to the classroom where Romana was based. Having spent the first two hundred years or so of his life in school - which was slightly more than the average Time Lord, but that was because he and a number of his friends had been made to repeat a year on more than one occasion - academic settings felt very comfortable to him. That was why he spent a lot of his free time in the Tardis library, which was modelled in a similar style to those at the Academy. Just with less fire-breathing librarians, of course. They'd always guarded the sections reserved for those partaking in 'further studies' once they'd completed the standard Gallifreyan Academic Program. Naturally, these were the sections that had proved most interesting to the young mischief makers, which is why such harsh security measures had been put in place.
Like Martha, Romana had fallen into a job within a couple of days of them arriving in 1969, having scouted out the university and eyed it up as a good option. Not only did they pay well - allowing the group to rent out a flat that was very up to date for the time period - it also allowed her to exercise her intellect properly. Something she really did miss doing, sometimes. Once a teacher's pet, always a teacher's pet, the Doctor had jokingly said when she'd come home with the news that she'd be starting as a physics tutor on Monday. In response to that she'd stuck her tongue out and thrown a tea bag at his head.
The door to her classroom was slightly ajar, and it was clear that she was still conducting a lecture as he arrived. His hearts fell - had he missed her lunch break entirely? Oh it would be such a shame if he had, he'd spotted this little cafe while out exploring the other day that reminded him of the one he'd taken her to in Paris. With less gun-toting French assassins, of course. While they did liven things up a bit, it was much nicer being able to enjoy the menu without the threat of a bullet in the back.
"... The recent discovery of neutron stars by Jocelyn Bell Burnell in 1967 has really sparked interest in gravitationally collapsed compact objects as a possible astrophysical reality. While theories of objects with an inescapable gravitational field have been proposed since the early twentieth century by scientists like Laplace and Schwarzschild, the existence of such an object has yet to be confirmed. For the work due next week, I want you to discuss potential methods of detecting a black hole. Critically appraised, please - if you can't justify your answers, they aren't worth the effort it'll take me to read them."
There was a light smattering of laughter mixed with the sound of shuffling paper; clearly, the session had come to an end. As her pupils streamed out of the classroom - most of them boys, he noticed, which sent a pang of some unidentifiable emotion through his chest - he weaved his way through them, stopping at the edge of her desk. She didn't notice him for a few moments, organising the contents of the drawer before casting a glance back.
"I'll be with you in just a moment."
"Oh, I'll wait."
She beamed at the sound of his voice, stopping her work and leaning against her chair. "Hello, trouble! What are you doing out here?" Her face dropped suddenly. "Don't tell me you've come to apologise for breaking something again."
He shook his head, moving to lean against the wall opposite her. "You know, Martha asked me practically the same question. All I wanted to do was take you both to lunch, if I could. I… I haven't missed your break, have I?"
"You're in luck, I'm off for the next hour." She smiled fondly again, scuffing her shoe against the floor. He couldn't help but stare at her, amazed by how well she was blending into the time period. While he'd decided to stick with his usual pinstriped suits, she and Martha had decided to really make the most of it, given that they didn't know just how long they'd be there for. And she really did look fantastic, in every outfit she'd curated. Today she was wearing a soft, baby blue tunic dress with white leggings and shiny white leather gogo boots. The paleness of the colours complimented the fiery nature of her hair wonderfully, he thought. And her freckles seemed more prominent than ever. "So, where were you thinking of going?"
"Come with me and find out."
The smile on her face when they'd arrived at the cafe had been bright enough to rival the light from Gallifrey's twin suns, the Doctor thought. Clearly her mind had gone to the same place that his had, remembering a time when they'd run through the streets of Paris hand in hand, chasing infamous paintings and malicious aliens. Just another average trip, really. Same shit, different time zone. As they waited for their food to be brought over, having decided to indulge their sweet cravings and get the biggest slices of cake possible, the Doctor cradled Romana's right hand in both of his, tutting at the markings on the skin.
"How have you managed to get this much ink on yourself?"
She shrugged, ignoring the warmth in her chest as his fingertips brushed over her skin. "Some of the students leave their essays right until the last minute, so the papers aren't quite dry by the time they get to me. Why so many of them use fountain pens I'll never understand, ballpoint pens are so much more convenient."
"They are a bit cooler, though. Proper ink pens. Makes everything feel a bit fancier when you're doing school work."
She snorted. "Says the man who never handed in a single assignment in on time back at the academy."
"Hey, I did! Yeah, some of them were late, but it wasn't all of them."
"Ah Doctor, you can't lie to me. I saw all your school records before being shipped off to join you by the guardians."
His jaw dropped. "How the hell were you allowed to see them? They're locked in the archives!"
"Well, 'allowed' might not be the right word to use…" She trailed off with a smirk as the waitress came over with their plates, watching his expressions as he put two and two together. As she spooned the first mouthful of chocolate cake into her mouth, she couldn't help but grin. He looked completely and utterly flabbergasted by her admission.
"But, you- you were always so well behaved, so perfect! You, breaking into the archives to peek at people's records? You?"
"Oh come on, I had to entertain myself somehow. You can't take all the credit for corrupting me, unfortunately."
As the two of them fell about laughing, kicking each other playfully under the table, the young waitresses at the counter watched longingly. The blonde nudged her black-haired friend. "I'd kill to have someone look at me like that."
"Like you're the only person in the whole world?"
"Yeah. Instead all I get is Johnny from the factory staring at me like I'm a piece of meat."
"Someday we'll both find a decent man instead."
"Yeah. Someday."
Walking home with Romana after she was finished with classes for the day, Martha had been very disappointed that there wasn't much gossip to come from the lunch date. Her redheaded friend had spent the entirety of the walk back to the flat talking about just how good the cafe's cake had been, and telling her all about the adventure in Paris. While she loved hearing tales of their previous mischief making, she was far more interested in finding out whether or not her meddling was having any effect.
"So, what gossip did I miss?"
"Gossip? Oh, nothing much. We spent most of the time talking about Paris, really. It's nothing you haven't heard before."
"Oh come on." She groaned. "You can't have told me everything!"
"Believe me, I have!" Romana grinned, nudging her arm. "I've told you the whole story, start to finish and back to front. The only new revelation to come up was the fact I took an illegal peek at the Doctor's school records before I got sent to meet him."
"You what?" Martha stopped dead, jaw on the floor. "My friend Kate did something like that once, stalked through a guy's Facebook page to learn everything about him before they went on a date!"
"Oh this wasn't anything like that." She shook her head as she dug in her pockets for the key to the flat. "I just wanted to try and figure out what I was getting myself into with the Doctor. Not that it's ever possible to prepare for his madness!"
The two of them giggled as they got into the flat, and the subject of their conversation looked up from his book.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, Doctor. Nothing at all." She ruffled his hair as she walked past, grinning at the way his face scrunched up.
Looking between them, Martha sighed. How was it possible for two of the most brilliant people she'd ever met to be so completely clueless?
They spent that evening as they had done pretty much every night since they'd arrived. After eating dinner, they bundled onto the couch to read, play games, or just talk. The television was on in the background, but none of them were really paying any attention to it. There were only four channels, and it was very rare for something interesting to be on. Martha had heard talk of a show about a time travelling alien that she thought would be a bit of a laugh - even if the funniest part was watching her best friends tear apart the terrible science being used in the script - but she hadn't managed to catch the name. It was a shame really, she'd kill for a good cheesy soap opera. They always reminded her of watching TV with her mum as a young kid.
But this time, as they sat arguing over the answer to a crossword clue, they were interrupted by a soft dinging noise. The Doctor shot to his feet, very nearly tripping over the coffee table as he ran to the hook where his jacket was hanging. He rooted through the pockets for a few moments before grinning, retrieving the ropey timey wimey detector he'd constructed. It was dinging constantly - and they all knew what that meant. Their newest friend had arrived.
It didn't take long for them to find Billy - Martha spotted him huddled against the wall in a narrow alleyway, trembling and looking like he wanted to throw up. Tucking the timey wimey detector back in one of his pockets, the Doctor led the way, crouching by the set of railings opposite the bewildered man.
"Welcome."
"Where am I?"
"1969. Not bad, as it goes. You've got the moon landing to look forward to."
Martha smiled fondly. "Oh, the moon landing's brilliant. We went four times, back when we had transport." The end of that sentence had definitely taken on a sharper tone, and he winced.
"Working on it."
Having got stuck on the first thing she'd said, Billy frowned. "How did I get here?"
The Doctor shrugged. "The same way we did. The touch of an angel. Same one, probably, since you ended up in the same year."
When he tried to push himself off the ground, Romana put her hands on his shoulders and kept him on the floor, speaking softly.
"No, no. It's all okay, I promise. Don't get up. Time travel without a capsule, it can be pretty nasty. Catch your breath. Don't go swimming for half an hour, at least. Just take your time."
He shook his head. "I don't… I can't…"
The Doctor cut in, feeling the need to ramble. "Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels. The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess, no fuss, they just zap you into the past and let you live to death. The rest of your life used up and blown away in the blink of an eye. You die in the past, and in the present they consume the energy of all the days you might have had. All your stolen moments. They're creatures of the abstract. They live off potential energy."
"What in God's name are you talking about?"
Martha sighed. "Trust me. Just nod when he stops for breath."
He continued, ignoring the little dig. "Tracked you down with this. This is my timey-wimey detector. It goes ding when there's stuff. Also, it can boil an egg at thirty paces, whether you want it to or not, actually, so I've learned to stay away from hens. It's not pretty when they blow."
Romana rolled her eyes. "Well, I did offer to fix that for you. But no, someone wanted to be Mr Independent and do it all by himself, even though it's far less efficient when you try and do things on your own."
Still completely baffled, Billy grabbed her by the hand, desperate for one of them to explain everything. "I don't understand. Where am I?"
"1969, like we said. It's a lot to take in, I know, but it'll all make sense soon enough. And you'll have plenty of time to understand."
Now looking sympathetic, the Doctor sighed - his hand on Romana's back to steady her.
"Normally, I'd offer you a lift home, but somebody nicked my motor. So I need you to take a message to Sally Sparrow. And I'm sorry, Billy. I am very, very sorry. It's going to take you a while."
The couple of weeks between Billy arriving and acquiring all of the equipment they needed to film the video for Sally Sparrow were infuriatingly slow. The three of them knew from Sally's notes of her experiences that there hadn't been that much time between Billy disappearing - and then reappearing hours before death - and the incident in Wester Drumlins that had sent the Tardis back to them. So they were all a little anxious that things were taking a bit too long. Obviously, in Sally's notes, she'd only been able to write about what she had experienced, so the last of the diary entries detailed the incident in full, up until she and Larry had escaped the house. That meant that they didn't actually know whether the Tardis was going to make it back to them or not - and of course, that was without taking into account the fact that time could be rewritten. So it was something that all of them tried their best to avoid thinking about.
When they finally had everything they needed, they got set up opposite the bare wall in the little living room and studied the transcripts they'd been given. Thankfully, there was a typed version as well as the original handwritten one - Larry's questionable shorthand baffled Martha, and Romana had started trying to read it as Old High Gallifreyan before realising that that wasn't remotely possible.
It took a couple of attempts to film the whole thing properly, with the right pauses in the right places, but soon enough they had a version that they were pretty happy with. There'd been a few moments where the camera had wobbled precariously as one of the girls interjected, but overall they were relatively confident that it had turned out as it needed to. Martha ran the tapes round to Billy's flat, along with the list of DVDs that he would have to interfere with - when they eventually existed, that is. When she came home again, the Doctor and Romana were sat at opposite ends of the sofa, legs in each others laps, competing to be the first person to finish reading a particularly thick book. She shook her head fondly - those two idiots were so in love, and they had absolutely no idea - and retreated to her own room for a nap.
All three of them just hoped that they'd got it right enough to have the necessary effect in the future.
Huddled together on the floor of the derelict dining room of Wester Drumlins, Larry slid a DVD into the portable player. "Okay, this is the one with the clearest sound. Slightly better picture quality on this one, but I don't know…"
Sally shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Just press play."
"Okay. There he is."
And he appeared on the screen, slightly washed out from the sepia tone of the old recording, glasses perched on his nose.
"The Doctor."
"Who's the Doctor?"
"He's the Doctor."
On screen, he gave a little wave. "Yup. That's me."
She flinched. "Okay, that was scary."
"No, it sounds like he's replying, but he always says that."
"Yes, I do."
"And that."
"Yup. And this."
She looked astounded. "He can hear us. Oh, my God, you can really hear us?"
Larry laughed it off. "Of course he can't hear us. Look, I've got a transcript. See? Everything he says. Yup, that's me. Yes, I do. Yup, and this. Next it's-"
A pretty redhead appeared around the side of the screen, a slightly irritated expression on her face. She spoke in exact synchrony with Larry.
"Are you going to read out the whole thing?"
He had the decency to look a little abashed. "Sorry."
Sally ignored him for the time being. "Who are you?"
Nudging the ginger woman in the shoulder, the Doctor gestured in the direction of the camera.
"Romana, budge. You're blocking the screen. Anyway, I'm a time traveller. Or I was. I'm stuck in 1969."
The image wobbled a little as the camera changed hands, and another woman appeared on the screen. She was black, absolutely stunning, and looked relatively peeved. "We're stuck. All of space and time, he promised me. Now I've got a job in a shop. I've got to support him! And poor Romana has to cope with boys staring at her like she's a piece of meat all day long. He's useless, honestly."
There was laughter from behind the camera as the Doctor frowned. "Martha. Not the time."
"Sorry."
Still amused by the argument, Sally nodded. "I've seen this bit before."
The Doctor looked pensieve. "Quite possibly."
"1969, that's where you're talking from?"
"Afraid so."
"But you're replying to me. You can't know exactly what I'm going to say, forty years before I say it."
"Well. Thirty eight."
Sitting cross legged with his notepad braced across his knees, Larry was writing at a furious pace. "I'm getting this down. I'm writing in your bits."
Sally felt like her brain had been put through the blender. "How? How is this possible? Tell me."
"Not so fast! I don't want to miss anything!"
On screen, the Doctor tapped his fingers against his chin. "People don't understand time. It's not what you think it is."
Sally frowned. "Then what is it?"
"Complicated."
"Tell me."
"Very complicated."
"I'm clever and I'm listening. And don't patronise me because people have died, and I'm not happy. Tell me."
He looked a little taken aback, and Romana slid onto the screen again. Once she'd nudged him over enough that she could fit in frame properly, she started speaking. "You're right, Sally. You're angry, and you've got every right to be. But this really is a complex topic. I'll try and explain it as best I can, but I can't promise it'll make much sense. People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like…" She trailed off for a second, visibly struggling to find the right words to explain her thought process.
The Doctor cut in. "A big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey stuff."
She felt her lips quirk up. "Yeah, I've seen this bit before. You said that sentence got away from her."
"It got away from her, yeah."
"Next thing you're going to say is, well I can hear you."
"Well, I can hear you."
"This isn't possible."
Larry grinned, flourishing his pen. "No. It's brilliant!"
"Well, not hear you, exactly, but we know everything you're going to say."
"Always gives me the shivers, that bit."
Sally couldn't help but stare at the screen, bemused. "How can you know what I'm going to say?"
"Look to your left."
His hand still flying across the page, Larry shrugged. "What does he mean by look to your left? I've written tons about that on the forums. I think it's a political statement."
Sally, however, had come to a far simpler conclusion. "He means you. What are you doing?"
"I'm writing in your bits. That way I've got a complete transcript of the whole conversation. Wait until this hits the net. This will explode the egg forums."
Romana nodded towards the camera. "We've got a copy of the finished transcript. It's on the autocue. The lovely Martha is holding it in place."
"How can you have a copy of the finished transcript? It's still being written." She just couldn't seem to work out how the hell any of this could be possible.
"I told you. We're time travellers. We got it in the future."
"Okay, let me get my head round this. You're reading aloud from a transcript of a conversation you're still having."
"Yeah. Like he said. Wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey. God, I hate it when you explain things better than I do."
He grinned. "That triple first from the Academy hasn't done you much good, has it?"
"No, but at least I've got a little more common sense than you do."
As the two of them bickered briefly, Sally turned to her friend with a raised eyebrow.
"Never mind all that. You can do shorthand?"
"So?"
Snapping back to attention, the Doctor continued. "What matters is, we can communicate. We have got big problems now. They have taken the blue box, haven't they? The angels have the phone box."
Larry clicked his fingers, grinning. "The angels have the phone box. That's my favourite, I've got it on a t-shirt."
Sally frowned. "What do you mean, angels? You mean those statue things?"
"Creatures from another world."
"But they're just statues."
"Only when you see them."
"What does that mean?"
He slipped into a more lecturing tone as Romana got up, heading back behind the camera. "The lonely assassins, they used to be called. No one quite knows where they came from, but they're as old as the universe, or very nearly, and they have survived this long because they have the most perfect defence system ever evolved. They are quantum-locked. They don't exist when they're being observed. The moment they are seen by any other living creature, they freeze into rock. No choice. It's a fact of their biology. In the sight of any living thing, they literally turn to stone. And you can't kill a stone. Of course, a stone can't kill you either. But then you turn your head away, then you blink, and oh yes it can."
Very aware of the company in the garden, she nudged Larry's arm. "Don't take your eyes off that."
"That's why they cover their eyes. They're not weeping. They can't risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest curse. They can never be seen. The loneliest creatures in the universe. And I'm sorry. I am very, very sorry. It's up to you now."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"The blue box, it's my time machine. There is a world of time energy in there they could feast on forever, but the damage they could do could switch off the sun. You have got to send it back to me."
"How? How?"
He paused for a second, frowning slightly at a point just above the camera. "And that's it, I'm afraid. There's no more from you on the transcript, that's the last I've got. I don't know what stopped you talking, but I can guess. They're coming. The angels are coming for you. But listen, your life could depend on this. Don't blink. Don't even blink. Blink and you're dead. They are fast. Faster than you can believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink. Good luck."
And the image froze.
Panic flooded her veins. "No! Don't! You can't!"
Larry reached over to press a few of the buttons. "I'll rewind him."
"What good would that do?" And then she realised something. "You're not looking at the statue."
"Neither are you."
Slowly, the pair of them turned to look upwards - the angel from the garden was looming over them.
"Keep looking at it. Keep looking at it."
He shuddered at the look on it's face. "There's just one, right, there's just this one. We're okay if we just keep staring at this one statue. Everything's going to be fine."
She shook her head, getting to her feet and scanning the hallway behind them. "There are three more."
"Three?"
"They were upstairs before, but I think I heard them moving."
That wasn't exactly a reassuring thing to hear. "Moving where? Three of them? Moving where?"
"I'm going to look around. I'm going to check. You keep looking at this one. Don't blink. Remember what he said. Don't even blink."
"Who blinks? I'm too scared to blink."
"Okay, we're going to the door. The front door."
She tried to guide him backwards towards the doorway, but quickly realised that it was going to be almost impossible. "Okay. We can't both get to the front door without taking our eyes off that thing, so you stay here."
"What?"
"I'll be just round the corner. You stay here." She vanished around the corner to check the doors, groaning as she realised what had happened while they'd been watching the video.
"They've locked it. They've locked us in!"
"Why?"
"I've got something they want."
"What?"
"The key. I took it last time I was here. They followed me to get it back. I led them to the blue box. Now they've got that."
"Well, give them the key."
"I'm going to check the back door. You wait here."
His heart leapt into his throat at the thought of her going any further away from him.
"Give them the key! Give them what they want! Sally, no. What if they come behind me?"
"Hang on!"
"Oh, God. Oh, God."
"It's locked!"
Deciding that he needed to know exactly where she was, he looked over his shoulder - just for a fraction of a second. He couldn't see her, and when he turned back the angel was mere inches away from him. The scowl on its face was hellish.
"Sally! Sally!"
"It won't open!"
"Sally, please, I can't do this! Sally, hurry up! Where are you?" He started backing away, unable to stay in that room for another minute.
"Larry? They've blocked off the back door, but there's a cellar. There might be a way out. A delivery hatch or something."
"Coming! I can't stay here."
They made it down to the cellar with relative ease, stopping for a second at the sight of the trio of angels watching the blue box. Trying to sound a lot more confident than she really felt, Sally started walking again.
"Okay, boys, I know how this works. You can't move so long as I can see you. Whole world in the box, the Doctor says. Hope he's not lying, because I don't see how else we're getting out."
There was a slight grating noise from behind them, and she glanced over her shoulder - trusting that Larry was keeping an eye on the others. "Oh, and there's your one."
He frowned. "Why's it pointing at the light?"
As they reached the Tardis, the singular bulb illuminating the space started to flicker. And understanding washed over her in an icy wave.
"Oh, my God, it's turning out the lights."
"Quickly!"
"I can't find the lock!"
"Sally, hurry up! Get it open! They're getting closer. Sally, come on!"
"It won't turn!"
"Sally, come on!"
They finally broke into the ship, barely registering the wonders held within the deceptive wooden casing as they closed the door behind them. Something flickered on one of the upper gantries, and the Doctor appeared translucently.
"This is security protocol seven one two. This time capsule has detected the presence of an authorised control disc, valid one journey."
Scrabbling for the DVD case in his pocket, Larry managed to extricate the disc - it was glowing a bright golden colour.
"Please insert the disc and prepare for departure."
Sally pointed towards the nearest section of the console. "Looks like a DVD player. There's a slot."
The ship started to pitch back and forth - clearly, the angels outside were losing their patience.
"They're trying to get in!"
"Well, hurry up then!"
He struggled for a moment before slotting the disc into the right place. Once it was fully inserted, the time rotor began to move.
"What's happening?"
As he reached her, grabbing her hand, Sally realised that the interior of the ship was becoming translucent as well. The ship was leaving without them.
"Oh, my God, it's leaving us behind. Doctor, no! You can't!"
The angels were visible now, through a very thin veil of golden panelling and brown coral. Each wore an expression of sheer hunger, arms outstretched.
"Doctor!"
And then the ship was entirely gone. Sally and Larry clung to each other, trembling with sheer terror at the thought of what was about to happen to her. Realising that there was no longer a barrier between them at all, she cried out. "Look at them! Quick, look at them!"
The two of them stumbled upright, trying to keep eyes on each of the statues. And then, Larry realised something. None of them had even twitched since the ship had vanished. Looking at how they were standing, it all started to make sense.
"I don't think we need to. He tricked them, The Doctor tricked them. They're looking at each other. They're never going to move again."
Normally, being woken up by the Doctor at half past three in the morning would have Martha throwing objects at his head until he left her alone to sleep - but this time, she shot out of bed immediately. She knew what the grin on his face meant. Romana had already gathered the few belongings they wanted to keep from the flat into a bag and was waiting by the door, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
The Doctor's timey-wimey detector was going off.
The Tardis was in 1969.
It took them almost half an hour to get to where she'd landed, given that it was too early for the buses to be running and none of them knew the phone number for a taxi company that would run at this hour. But they almost didn't mind; the night was relatively warm for the time of year, and the breeze woke them all up just a little more. Even though they all desperately wanted to run they kept to a brisk walk, not wanting to exert themselves too much - hopefully, that meant they'd also manage to read the signs from the detector properly and head in the right direction. In fact they only got lost once, and that was quickly rectified by climbing over someone's garden fence.
When they did finally reach the police box, tucked neatly at the end of an alleyway not too far from the university, the three of them were delighted. Martha actually hugged the Tardis before turning back to hug her friends, squeezing them both as tightly as possible. "Oh, I don't think I've ever been so happy to see this old thing in my life!"
"She sounds like she's happy to see us too!" Romana grinned, running a hand over the ancient wooden façade. And indeed the Tardis did - listening closely, a soft humming was audible. But as the Doctor moved to join her, key in hand, the sound changed to a grating whine. He frowned, taken aback.
"I wasn't expecting that. Is everything alright old girl?" He tried to unlock the door, pulling his hand away when the Tardis electrified the key. "Woah! What's all this?"
Martha shrugged. "Maybe it's like a leftover thing after being around the angels for so long."
Romana, however, knew exactly what the problem was - and she couldn't help but giggle. "Oh, she's really not happy with you. I think she's offended that you left her to the angels."
He looked wounded. "But it's not like we had a choice! Once we'd been handed the information, we knew it was going to happen. If we'd tried to rewrite things, who knows what could have happened?"
"Well, you knew what was going to happen. It's not like you told us anything. And I'd be willing to bet money that you didn't exactly tell the Tardis either, did you?" The sheepish look on his face told them everything they needed to know. "No wonder she's pissed at you. Let me try."
And Romana managed to unlock the door without any troubles, ushering Martha inside with a wide grin on her face. "Told you so."
The Doctor rolled his eyes as he followed her inside, before yelping with shock as the doors pinched him as they closed. "Oi! Look, I'm sorry about what happened. But it needed to, you know? We couldn't risk interfering with time!"
The groans from the console made one thing very clear: the Tardis was giving him the cold shoulder. Patting him fondly on the back, Romana took position at the controls. "Leave her to me for the next few trips, okay? It's probably for the best. She'll forgive you in her own time."
He flopped down onto one of the jump seats with a pout, huffing, and the girls snorted. Seeing the ship give him the exact same treatment that he had received from them was pure gold.
Watching from the other side of the room, Martha couldn't help but wonder just how long the ship would hold a grudge against him. If hers and Romana's responses were anything to go on, it could be a whole week before she relaxed a little. Maybe even longer - who knows what the Tardis was thinking?
Either way, it would be hilarious to watch this play out.
See you later, and happy reading!
Much love,
Az xxx
