Author's notes: Hey, guys! Long time no see. Got out of the DW mood and starred hyperfixating on the Mandalorian again. Which is cool if you like the Mandalorian, bc I've got two Mandalorian fics started.

One is just a side fic and is less complicated, as far as my stories go. Its called Between Rivers.

The other is more complex and more equitable to this story. Its called Where the Roses Grow.

So you know, go check those out if you like the Mandalorian. I'd love some feedback from people who've read some of my other stuff.

Anyway, here's this update. Its not my best work, but it gets the ball rolling again. ~M

Chapter Warnings: Some self-depreciation

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Chapter Twenty Nine: Misadventures in Purgatory

Part Two

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"You sure you've thought this through?" Mickey bitched for the upteenth time. "You've only met him the once an'—"

A sigh hissed between my teeth, effectively cutting him off. He scoffed. Mickey's yellow car bumped over a pothole as we turned a corner, heading further and further away from London.

"I'm just sayin'," he went on, "the last time I drove someone to meet this bloke, I got kidnapped by a livin' plastic monster and eaten by a trash bin. I think I've got a right to be concerned."

"You didn't have to come," I pointed out, chewing absently at my thumbnail and gazing out at the changing landscape as the spaces between buildings slowly stretched to make room for trees and pastures. "I would've been fine."

Outside of my travels with the Doctor, I had never really been out of London. It was interesting, in a mundane sort of way, the way the close-knit suburbs just seemed to drop away into small towns and rolling pastures. Back home, our urban sprawl sprawled, eating away into rural space like an invasive parasite taking root under the cover of trees and big yards.

"I couldn't just let you go on your own," he grumbled, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"I've investigated stuff on my own before, you know."I folded my arms across my chest. There were more important things to think about.

Christmas was looming, and I was still worrying over what to get Jackie. After following her around while she shopped for the last few months, I had made an exhaustive list of options, but none of it seemed to even begin to make up for the fact that this was going to be her first Christmas without Rose.

"And this time we ain't even goin' to his place!" He burst out. "We gotta go out into the middle of bleedin' nowhere! Couldn't he have just sent you what he found, and then you solve it from the Estate?"

I intoned a sigh. Not that I didn't appreciate Mickey's worry, as Clive's emails hadn't exactly been insightful - limited to mentions of vague disappearances and a place and time to meet. If it had been almost anyone else, I probably would be taking more precautions. But Clive was Clive, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least curious to see what he'd found. On top of that, I was itching to learn about the events of the Auton invasion.

"It's this next left, I think." I sat up a little straighter so as to peer through the overgrown hedges for a glimpse of faded red wood. "Yeah, there at the sign."

The car slowed. We turned down a narrow dirt road that led through fields of tall grass that shivered in the midwinter breeze. The chipped red sign reared into view. In white letters on faded red splinters, it read:

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Historic Ainsley House

And Inn

Est. 1745

Low Rates. Tours. Breakfast Included.

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1745. When the house reared into view, it looked like what you'd expect from an English Estate turned Inn. Once upon a time, it had been a fine stone house with neat trim and healthy gardens, built for a suitably well-off family.

I'd done some research on my phone during the drive, and had learned that it had been built by a merchant named George Ainsley that had done fairly well for himself. It still belonged to the Ainsley family, who had fallen on hard times in the last 120 years or so. To keep from losing their family home, they'd rented out rooms, and thus the Inn was born. Later, they'd taken a deal with some historical society or another to help pay for its upkeep.

If I were a representative of that society, I'd want my money back. The gardens were dismally overgrown. Ivy crawled up the side and bit into the masonry, picking the place apart one grain of sand at a time. Although it could be considered kind of homey, if not charming, it was the kind of place that kids (and more subtly - adults) would think to be haunted. I'd read a little lore on the place, and the combination of ghost stories and whatever Clive had dug up made the possibility very real.

So thank God we were staying here tonight, right?

Mickey parked in the flattened grass beside three other cars. I spotted Clive sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, exactly where he'd said he'd be. Despite having already known that Clive was still alive, my heart couldn't help but leap at seeing him. Despite all the shit I'd gone through, I'd at least managed to do one good thing.

I all but leapt out of the car, ignoring Mickey's protests. By the time I rounded the side of the car and was in Clive's line of sight, I had curtailed my enthusiasm and forced myself to take measured, pensive steps. Outwardly, I was a professional alien investigator, all save for grinning like an idiot.

"Good to see you again, Clive," I said, grasping the hand he offered me warmly. "How you been?"

"You too, an' good." He was exactly as I remembered him; tall and rotund with a kind face and dark curls. "For the most part."

Mickey scuffled up to loom behind me, doing his best to look tough. I suppressed a smirk.

"This is Mickey. He's a friend of mine. Mickey, Clive."

Clive, friendly as ever, stuck out his hand for Mickey to shake. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes when Mickey made a show of considering before actually taking it. His brow furrowed a little, but Clive didn't otherwise comment on Mickey's attempt at hostility.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Well, I'm here. Now, are you gonna tell me what this is about?"

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"Are there really aliens in Area 51?"

"Depends on your perspective."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I frowned and crossed my arms, leaning back into the jump seat.

We'd only just gotten back from a trip to the apple orchards of Applaach, a small world completely covered in apple trees that was responsible for all the apples sold on that side of the galaxy.

It hadn't been nearly as boring as it had sounded, though I would've been entertained by almost anything. After eighteen years of living in the same little town on Earth, literally any change in scenery was welcome, especially if it included a peaceful afternoon strolling underneath an open sky and enjoying the fresh autumn breeze.

The Doctor rolled his shoulders nonchalantly as he fiddled with the TARDIS controls, setting the machine into motion. "Everything's a matter of perspective."

"If you don't know, just say you don't know."

"I didn't say that!" The Time Lord retorted, somewhat offended. "I just happen to be one of the leading experts in the history of Earth-Extraterrestrial Interrelationships, thank you very much."

"So you DO know."

The Doctor opened his mouth, paused for a moment to think, then closed it again. I grinned as he scoffed and moodily straightened his leather jacket. "What are you asking me for, anyway?"

"Why am I asking the 'leading expert in the history of Earth-Extraterrestrial Interrelationships'?"

"Well, I can't know everything, can I?"

I shrugged and came up beside him to rest my elbows on the console. He continued pressing buttons, sulking. I bumped him playfully with my hip and he responded by elbowing me lightly in the side.

"You could always just look it up for yourself," the Doctor pointed out, mood improved.

"Easier to ask." I rested my chin on his arm, gazing up at him imploringly.

"'Easier to ask'," he mocked. "How do you expect to learn anythin' if you wait for other people to tell ya'?"

I pinched his side in rebuke. "Mean. The stuff I do know, I learned on my own. You remember how awful the American 21st century education system is, right?"

"Fair. So what do you know?"

I shrugged. "Whatever an average intelligence human can get her hands on and… you know…. comprehend."

"Give yourself some credit. You're above average intelligence." He paused, then added, "For a human."

"Thanks," I scoffed.

"Intelligence isn't in knowing the facts," the Time Lord pointed out. "It's in the ability to synthesize what you know and find a solution."

"Some of my teachers used to say stuff like that", I complained, unconvinced, "right before they gave us some stupid assignment that didn't help at all."

A sly grin spread across his face, but was quickly wiped away by what the Doctor probably imagined was the expression of an all-knowing professor - which was amusing, considering that his angular features, leather jacket, and close-cropped hair screamed anything but.

"Alright then, Miss Reid. Your assignment today is both unnecessary and slightly ridiculous, but given your experience, should be fairly simple."

I groaned, struggling to mask a smile while the Time Lord yanked at a lever with a flourish, causing the TARDIS to buck sideways and change directions.

I snagged onto the console. "Where are we going?"

"Exactly!"

He wouldn't say anything else about it for the duration of the trip. He was grinning, though, and extremely pleased with himself - which hopefully meant it wouldn't be too bad.

~0~0~0~

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Clive's research was thorough. The room he occupied was covered with printed articles, missing person flyers, police reports, etc. There were stacks on the bed, the bedside tables, the counter.

I settled down on one of the chairs at the table and let him give it to me piece by piece, at which point I would skim while he summarized for me.

Disappearances - a lot of them, each separated by approximately 5 to 10 years - going back almost 200 years. There was an overlying theme of the person staying at the Ainsley House for a day or two, checking out, and never being heard from again. In recent decades, the individual's car and personal effects would show up a town or two over, but from there all leads went cold.

I shuffled absently through the bios that Clive had already pieced together. Although they'd all disappeared without a trace, the police usually settled on one conclusion.

Mickey voiced what my mind was already chewing on. "What if they just wanted to disappear?" He thumped the old newspaper he'd been reading. "Like this bloke, he'd racked up some serious debt. An' this one had just lost his job. And another: just divorced and his wife got it all."

I nibbled at my thumb thoughtfully. "Mm. Maybe, but I don't think so. It's too regular, and it's happened too many times."

"So I was right?" Clive pressed. He was sitting on the edge of the musty old bed that would look more at home in a museum than an inn. When he leaned forward, the springs beneath him wailed. "There is somethin' here. I was right to contact you?"

I shuffled the papers in my hands. "It's definitely weird, I'll give you that."

"But that doesn't make it alien, does it?" Mickey put in. "It couldn't just be like, some kind of under the table business deal? Pay someone off an' they help you disappear?"

"For over two hundred years?" Clive scoffed defensively. He was clearly used to having people laugh at his ideas, and despite the potential danger, I hoped this would be a genuine alien mystery, just so he would at least feel a little validated.

Mickey shrugged. "Family business?"

"I won't rule it out," I conceded, "but it's worth looking into, at least."

Mickey shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. He was jumpy as hell, but covering for it with crankiness. He'd only met aliens himself once, and it wasn't a pleasant experience. Since then, he'd grilled me for other stories about my encounters, and those sounded a lot like horror stories. Now, faced with the prospect of living one of those stories wasn't nice at all.

"So what now, then?" He groused.

"You go downstairs and get us rooms," I said brightly.

The rest of the blood drained out of Mickey's already pale face. "What for?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "Well, I mean, we could stay here with Clive, but there's only one bed, and I don't think I'm in the mood to deal with that trope today. It would be a tight fit, wouldn't it?"

Clive chuckled and Mickey's face turned red.

Mickey pressed on. "I mean, we're staying here? The place where people have been going missing?"

I frowned. "Yeah? Wasn't that always the idea?"

"Yeah… but…" He scuffled his shoe. "But then shouldn't we be stayin' together?"

He didn't want to wander around the house by himself. Understandable.

"The other rooms are right beside this one," I reassured him. "And I don't think any of us will be a target now. Remember the others? They were traveling alone. We've got a group to hold any kidnappers accountable."

He opened his mouth to protest.

I cut him off with a sigh. "No one's going to try anything during the day, anyway. You're fine to go down to the lobby."

He closed his mouth, looking a bit sheepish. Grumbling to himself, Mickey left the room, presumably to do as I'd asked.

Finally alone, Clive and I had the chance to talk. It was a conversation long overdue. I should've checked on him before, should've made sure he'd survived. But to be honest, my mind had been in the gutter for so long that I had forgotten him entirely. If he knew this, he didn't seem to mind.

We were silent for a few moments. I knew he had questions. I waited for them, surprised to find myself dreading them.

I didn't want to talk about the Doctor. The only person I'd mentioned him to was Mickey, but that had been through the lense of Rose; who he was to her, was he dangerous to her, when he would bring her home, etc.

This conversation wouldn't have that padding.

"At first, I didn't know what to think," Clive started slowly. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "But I figured there was no harm in staying at home, not going out at night. When my wife wanted to go shopping, I talked her into stayin' at home. She thought I was being paranoid, but then came the attacks."

"The Autons. I'm glad you're all okay," I said earnestly. "Really."

"I tried to contact you again," he went on, "but heard nothin' back. Honest, I just thought I'd count myself lucky and let you just stay a mystery. But then I noticed the pattern of disappearances. I knew the police wouldn't believe me, and I didn't know who else to tell."

"You did the right thing." I gestured to the papers with a wave of my hand. "And this is all really good. I do think there's something fishy here. No one else would've noticed, but you did."

"So I was right, weren't I?" He pressed. "You know things. About the Doctor. About aliens."

"Yeah."

His eyes were wide and pleading. "Who is he, then? You can tell me. I swear I won't spread it around. It's just- I've got to know."

"He's an alien," I said, clamping down hard on my own emotions, fighting not to feel. My voice was empty. Cold. "A Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. He travels around the universe in a little blue box that's bigger on the inside and can travel pretty much anywhere in time and space. He's about 900 years old now, and can change his face instead of dying when he's hurt."

I said it all in a rush, ripping off the bandaid and pretending not to notice the sting. Just hearing myself talk about him like that reminded me how wonderful it all was - how wonderful he was - and I suddenly remembered that I had been ejected from that life.

It threw me out. He threw me out.

What the hell am I doing? I internally screamed. I don't belong here!

Who was I to solve mysteries? That was the Doctor's job! I wasn't the Doctor, I was the assistant. And not even a good assistant. He'd gotten rid of me, hadn't he? I hadn't been cut out for it, and he'd fired me before someone got hurt.

If someone died here, it would be on me. It would be my incompetence that killed them. They would die because the reject thought she could play Time Lord.

Ignorant to my sudden downward spiral, Clive took a minute to digest the flood of information I'd given him.

"It's true," he chuckled wetly to himself. "The man with more than one face. He's real."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry from upwelling panic. My voice cracked, but it was barely noticeable, "Yeah. He's real."

A slow, almost manic grin spread across his features. "Autons, you said. And aliens. How do you know all this? How do you fit into it all?"

"Sometimes the Doctor takes people with him." I wasn't able to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I focused determinedly on my hands. My nails were jagged and rough from where I'd been biting them. "Friends. Companions. People to share adventures with. I'm… I used to be one of them."

This time, Clive didn't miss the emotion barely concealed in my words. He frowned, lines scrunching between his eyebrows.

"Used to?"

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Princess Meriweth was sitting on a bench in the main hall with a blanket draped around her shoulders. A royal medic was dabbing carefully at her neck, covering the affected area with a special kind of gauze that sealed the wound nearly as well as stitches. She looked up as the Doctor and I passed and motioned the medic away.

"Madame Reid?" I stopped to face her while the Doctor ambled a few steps further down the hall, pausing at a framed oil painting to pretend he was noticing the finer details.

"How're you feeling?" I asked, eyeing the place on her neck. Almost having your throat slit by a moody Zygon pretending to be your sister wasn't something you got over quickly. "Shouldn't you be on your way to a hospital?"

"I'm alright." A shy smile graced her lips. "Though I wouldn't be if it weren't for you."

"Ah, well," I responded, awkwardly brushing a strand of hair from my face. Usually it was the Doctor who got the 'thank you for saving my life' talks. The only thing I could think to do was try and copy what he usually did. "You're alright now. That's what matters."

Her smile widened, though there was a touch of sadness to it. "So I guess that means you're leaving, Duchess of The Western Reach."

"Uh, yeah… about that-"

She cut me off. "Don't suppose I'll be seeing you again?"

"Probably not, no." I pushed my hands into my coat pockets and smiled fondly at her, unprepared for what she did next.

Her lips collided with mine roughly, her fingers tangling in my hair and tongue slipping past my lips, kissing me thoroughly. Caught completely off guard, I stood there stiffly, not really responding until the last few seconds. I dimly heard the Doctor give an exasperated huff, but chose to ignore him.

The Princess pulled away, leaving my lips tingling. She smiled shyly. "Be safe, yeah?"

"Uh- yeah. Er… I'll do my best…" With that I smiled nervously and, still in a daze, stumbled over to where the Doctor was waiting.

The Doctor gave me a look that said 'not bad' as I caught up with him, wiggling his eyebrows in amusement.

"Shut up," I grumbled, fidgeting with the hem of my evening gown.

"Enjoying yourself?" The Doctor quipped, looking smug as we continued out of the castle and into the gardens, heading in the direction of the TARDIS.

"Give me a break." Heat radiated from me and I knew I was as red as a tomato. "I think it's the dress."

He rolled his eyes. "Just about every time we land, you've got some poor ape larkin' about trying to get your attention."

I realized that this was him messing with me, but I couldn't help but bite. "What? Who?"

"Well," he mused, "the first I noticed was that girl from China, what's her name. Pei-Pei."

I blushed, remembering her dark expressive eyes and lovely pink lips.

"Then there was bloody Ching-Shih, of all people. Or did you think she brought you on as her assistant for your skills as a pirate?"

My blush deepened and I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly as I recalled certain, private hours in Ching-Shih's cabin during the deepest parts of the night.

The Doctor glanced around, caught sight of my expression, and gave an exasperated sigh before continuing his list. "And then there was that nurse on Aronish, the Dame of Pinera Eleven and her brother, the stable hand in France. And remember-"

"Okay, Okay"! I cried, slapping my hands over my ears. "I get it!"

The Doctor barked out a laugh, poking me playfully in the ribs. I squirmed and batted his hand away, unable to stop myself from joining in his good humor.

"But not guys? Do I just attract lesbians?"

"Blokes too," he conceded, slipping his TARDIS key into the lock, "The Prince of Aronish asked me if you were available, but I told him to bugger off."

"What? Why?"

He sniffed. "Don't give me that look. I was doin' you a favor. Do you remember how bloody awful his teeth were? Imagine snoggin' that."

I snorted at the memory of the snaggle-toothed Prince. "Fair enough."

"There were other blokes too," he continued matter-of-factly as he began fiddling with buttons and levers,"but most of 'em find you intimidating."

"Intimidating how?"

"Dunno. Short woman with a knife on her 24/7? Bloody terrifying."

I laughed "Do you think I'm scary, Doctor?"

The Doctor glanced over at me. I didn't know why, but the intense look in his eyes made me shiver. I wanted him to look at me like that forever.

He nodded solemnly. "Absolutely."

~0~0~0~

o

"Yeah," I said curtly. "Used to."

Responses to Comments:

Great i dea: Thank you! Yeah, she's gonna get into trouble all on her own. Hope you like her adventures!

TheGuestAlikai: I'm glad it was realistic. I've had some trouble with anxiety and depression too, so I tried to channel those feeling into her. These next few chapters are going to really work on her being more confident working on her own steam. And there's a couple of surprises in store, so we're gonna have a lot of fun with that. Thank you for commenting, reading all those nice things really brightened my day.

sophiewhettingsteel: I'm glad you like Mickey and Jackie! They're gong to have interesting relationships with Buffy. Thanks for reading!

C. S. Stars: Yeah, she really just needs a hug. Or a lot of hugs.

YumiKnowsBest: Hi, new reader! I'm so happy you love the story, I'm writing it as fast as I can! Thanks for reading and commenting!

Guest: Her depression is a big issue, and something that's going to take her a while to overcome. It goes deeper than the Doctor, so it'll take more than him to fix it. And yah, I'll be messing with timelines. I prefer coming up with my own stuff, bc writing straight canon is boring. I'm sad that she misses Boe too, and that was something that ALMOST made me deviate from my current plans, but oh well. Thanks for reading!

Guest: There's a big issue with sexism in the production of DW, so flimsy female characters isn't at all surprising (fuck Moffat). And don't worry about infidelity when they finally get together, it's something that I also hate. Thanks for reading!

Spoonsinthesink: I almost just went and streamlined it and jumped straight to Aliens of London, but from a writing perspective this is more interesting. And I also love the cover story. It's a very Buffy kind of excuse - just so absurd yet reasonable that you cant argue with it. Jackie and Buffy are going to have an interesting long term relationship, so I hope you like where I'm going to take that. She's got a long time before she is the future version that wrote to her, so don't worry too much about that just yet. And yikes! I remember AP. I took a bunch of AP classes in high school and know the pain of the summer hw all too well. Good luck with that! Try not to procrastinate!

Breaduardo: I'm excited that you're excited! I have a REALLY long term plan for this story. It's never going to end.

bored411: She's on the road to getting better, but she's definitely going to be different when the Doctor gets back. Thanks for commenting!

Numquam the Raven: lol punching him seems to be the consensus. Don't worry, there are going to be consequences that he has to face!

Sam2357: Yeah, there's going to be some problems surrounding Rose when they get back. I like Mickey, so I didn't want his problems to be completely overlooked. Hope you like where this goes!

Isabelnecessaryonabicycle: Thanks again for the fanart! I love it and have it saved to my phone.

Eviline: You're damn right about the heartache with Jackie later. But Buffy figures that Jackie won't believe her about aliens and she can't give her a watered down version because then that would screw up their friendship right when the both need it most. And lol yeah Geronimo is no ordinary mouse. I'm just going to leave it as 'mouse from the future'/TARDIS interference to explain his lifespan. I just really like Geronimo.

Kj: Sorry for the wait! Thanks for reading/reviewing!

LittleMeep: Don't worry, that future renamed version of her is a very long ways in the future. She'll be going by Buffy for a long time to come!

AsToldByNi: Thank you!

cruelzy: I too love angst. All of my stories ever get super angsty every now and then. Just a sucker for hurt/comfort, really. Thank you so much for your kind words. You make me blush. Thank you!

ritzmix: Thanks!