For your reading convenience, a quick recap:
The Doctor stopped suddenly two flights down, causing Zoe to crash into his back. He turned and grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. "Time's up," he said. With his hands still locked onto her shoulders, he gazed intently into her hazel green eyes. "Zoe, I know we just met, and you seem to know me. But, do you trust me?"
"With my life," she said without hesitation, sounding a bit breathless from all the running.
His vivid blue eyes widened in surprise and what might have been wonder. Another roar ripped through the air above them, and the Doctor's expression snapped back to business. "Good, because I'm about to do this." He pulled her roughly against his solid chest and wrapped his arms securely around her before turning and leaping off the fire escape. He shifted his weight mid-air, so his body would be underneath her, as they hurtled toward the dark pavement below together.
Now without further ado, read and enjoy!
Did he just? In a state of disbelief, she tilted her head back with some difficulty to look up at the store's roof, moving further and further away. Yes, yes, he did. The rapid descent of their fall pushed air through her dark brunette hair, so it rippled out in waves.
She could make out the shrinking silhouette of the giant Auton monster leaning over the building's ledge, staring at them with its huge, creepy gaping holes for eyes. The roof lights gleaming through them like cat eyes shining in the dark.
In the same moment the monster opened its mouth to roar at them, the building exploded beside them, swallowing up the monster and building in a bright fiery blast. Debris and hot air blew down on them. The force of the explosion propelling them to the side and speeding up their descent, as golden flames licked up the sides of what was left of Nickie's.
She buried her face in the Doctor's chest, partly to shield her gaze from the blazing light, but mostly unable to bear looking around, as they fell to their probable deaths. They were going to die, and it would be her fault, all because she was a Zoe and not a Rose. Her presence had altered tonight's events until they were unrecognizable from the show.
Seeming to sense the tension in her thin frame, the Doctor tightened his hold on her and cradled the back of her head, as he lowered his mouth to her ear. "Trust me," he said simply, loud enough to be heard over the wind.
She lifted her head up to say she did trust him and then thought better of it when she saw the rapidly approaching ground. She nodded into his chest instead, hoping that the Doctor had an actual plan. She sensed him shift their weight again, so they were hurtling towards the earth in a nosedive. Despite her desire to trust him, she felt herself instinctively brace for impact in his arms and clenched her eyes shut, and so was shocked when they fell headfirst into a pool of deep water.
Zoe's breath hitched in surprise at the unexpected sensation of submerging in water, something she immediately regretted, as water filled her lungs, choking her. She felt the Doctor's legs kick against hers, propelling their bodies up through the water until their heads emerged. He took in a deep breath of air while Zoe coughed and spluttered in between ragged breaths. Chlorine water burned her nostrils, and her throat and lungs felt raw.
While Zoe struggled to breathe, the Doctor swam them to the edge of the swimming pool with one arm. Grabbing hold of the ladder, he used it to steady himself, so he could push Zoe up onto the pool deck. Not needing any encouragement, she pulled herself up the rest of the way and crawled forward, eager to put some distance between herself and the swimming pool, before flipping onto her back. A noisy squelch sounded when her waterlogged clothes met the dry white tile.
Her eyes widened when she spotted black smoke trailing into the room through what could only be the TARDIS doors, looking out of place on the arching white ceiling. She watched in amazement, as the fire continued to blaze and consume Rose's workplace beyond the doors until the TARDIS closed them, and the blue doors faded into a vague outline before disappearing completely.
She heard the TARDIS wheeze and knew the ship was relocating to somewhere safer than downtown London.
There was another loud wet plop, as the Doctor laid down next to her. She turned her head and saw that he was watching her carefully. He had discarded his leather jacket and was donning a plain black t-shirt. It was soaked through, and she tried not to notice how it clung to his defined chest like a second skin.
"Welcome to the TARDIS," he grinned at her. "Most people walk in through the front door, not fall through it. Of course, you're also the first person to see the swimming pool before the console room."
"How?" she croaked.
"Emergency protocol," he said with a slight shrug. "If I'm falling to my death, the TARDIS is programmed to switch to auto-pilot, appear under me with her doors open, and catch me. She manipulated the layout of the ship, so we would fall into the swimming pool. Better chance of survival that way. Of course," he added as an afterthought, "the protocol is only triggered when falling from a certain height, if the TARDIS has enough time to manifest, as well as a lot of other factors..." He trailed off, noticing her confusion. "That's T.A.R.D.I.S., as in Time and Relative Dimension in Space. You're in my spaceship. It travels through time and space."
"I know," she said without thinking.
"And how could you know that?" he asked. The suspicion was back in his blue eyes, but there was also an equal amount of intrigue. The same piqued interest she noticed when he met her back in the store. "Are you from my future?"
"I suppose I could be," she said uncertainly, "but not in the way you think. That's up to you. If you want me, around that is." She cleared her throat, realizing she was rambling and turned her head away from the Doctor's searching gaze to hide a slight blush. She returned his gaze after a moment. There was something she needed to know before she answered his other question. "How did you know it would work? That the TARDIS would make it in time, I mean?"
"I didn't," he admitted.
Zoe closed her eyes, exhaustion from the day's events catching up with her. "Rule number one: the Doctor always lies," she quoted aloud from the show.
With her eyes closed, she didn't see how the Doctor looked startled at her. By the time she opened her eyes, his expression had cleared, and he was climbing to his feet. He extended his hand out towards her, and she took it reluctantly, allowing him to pull her up onto her feet.
Her muscles protested the sudden movement, screaming with aches and pains in places she didn't know could become sore. The adrenaline rush from the chase was wearing off, leaving her feeling jittery and exhausted. Her poor toes twinged with pain from running in shoes too small for her, and she made quick work of removing the now water-logged shoes. Unsurprisingly, her toes were red and looking bruised. At this point, all she wanted was a hot shower, to change into dry clothes, and crawl into her bed back home. Not the just-bought-mattress back in her apartment, but the bed she grew up sleeping in. A pang went through her at the thought she may never get to go home. May never see Madison or August again. Or, learn the truth about what happened the night August called. Did he die like she thinks he did? What if he was alive, waiting for her back in their world, and didn't know where she was? It hurt to think she may never know.
Oblivious to Zoe's thoughts, the Doctor picked up his sopping leather jacket, threw it over his shoulder, and called to her. "C'mon. Let's talk more in the console room," he said, walking toward a dark blue wooden door that opened on its own upon his approach. "It's time you explain how you know so much about me, my ship, and everything else." He spun around and proceeded to walk backwards through the doorway, so he could point an accusing finger at her. "And no more dodging the question. Don't think I haven't noticed. Pretty observant, me."
She sighed and swept back her wet chocolate locks that had been plastered to the side of her face and neck, then followed him through the door. She was unsurprised when they exited the pool room directly into the TARDIS' console room, figuring the ship must have rerouted the layout of the rooms to save them time. Her eyes swept over the shiny copper walls and coral before dragging her gaze to the controls. Emerald light pulsed from the console, illuminating the room with its green sheen.
The Doctor flew straight to the console, pulling a monitor down and turning it on with a flick of a switch. Circular Gallifreyan symbols flew across the screen faster than her eyes could follow. "Start talking, Peyton," he ordered without even looking at her. His attention focused on the screen as if it held all the answers to the universe. For all she knew, it did.
"I don't know where to start," she said honestly, tugging at the bottom of her shirt nervously. She wished he'd let her change her clothes first. It was cold and uncomfortable, standing around in wet clothes and with bare feet. She must look like a drowned mouse to him. She glanced down at herself and froze, feeling suddenly grateful for the Nickie's work-apron forced on her by Jackie. It was covering the front of what was now a mostly see-through white t-shirt.
"How about the beginning," the Doctor suggested, without looking up. "That's usually how most stories start."
She fidgeted for a moment, then sighed before sitting down on one of the seats attached to coral near the controls. "Well, I suppose it started yesterday. I'd worked a twelve-hour shift, finishing up this huge writing project for this mortgage company. The deadline got pushed up because management wanted to enforce new state regulations that didn't go into effect for another month." She rolled her eyes at that shred of stupidity. "So I was forced to work late into the night to deliver it on time. I'm a writer, by the way."
"Wait," the Doctor interjected, finally pulling his attention away from the monitor to look at her. "I thought you worked in a shop. Are you telling me you have two jobs?"
"Actually, I'm unemployed now," she said wryly. "But, I was, hopefully still am, a professional writer if I can ever make it back home, and I only worked at Nickie's today, so I could meet you. Now if you'd let me continue the story, it will begin to make sense to you."
The Doctor rolled his hands out in an exaggerated gesture that seemed to say, The stage is all yours.
"By the time, I got home. All I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch my favorite show." She hesitated and tried to gather the courage to tell him the show starred his life, but her courage failed her at the moment. She stared at her clasped hands and licked her dry lips. "It was a Friday night, my day had been hell, so I thought I deserved it. I stayed up most of the night watching it." She hesitated, not ready to talk about August and his call.
"Yesterday was a Tuesday, not a Friday," he informed her.
"It was a Friday for me," she countered.
"But, it couldn't have been. Unless you're a time traveler, that is. Do you have a time vortex manipulator hidden on you?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course not."
"But, you know what it is," he said, sounding triumphant.
"Obviously."
"You're a time agent then. Of course you are," he bit out harshly, not giving her a chance to defend herself. He sounded almost disappointed. "It would explain your knowledge of the Nestene Consciousness, living plastic, and even me." Agitated, he paced back and forth across the room in a few swift steps until he whipped around to face her, crossing his arms in the process. "But, that wouldn't explain how you knew my plan to blow up the relay device." He regarded her suspiciously. "Have you been following me?"
She leaned back in her seat, mirrored his folded arms, and raised a single eyebrow. "Even if I was a time agent and had a time vortex manipulator, which I don't," she began, her tone sardonic, "how would I be able to track a ship that can travel through time and space?" She emphasized the last three words, hoping to get her point across.
"Fair point," he allowed after a moment of consideration.
"Hang on. When did you dry yourself?" she demanded, noticing the dry state of his hair and clothes for the first time. He was back to wearing his signature leather jacket as if it never took a dip in the swimming pool.
The Doctor shrugged. "Ten minutes ago?"
"And you didn't think I'd appreciate being dry, too?" she asked, gesturing to her wet attire with an annoyed huff. His eyes skimmed over her in seemingly deliberate, slow sweep. If she didn't know he was alien and had a penchant for blondes, she would have thought he was checking her out. All the same, she had to fight down the blush that threatened to appear on her face. Again.
"You didn't ask," he finally said.
"I shouldn't have to ask. It's called being considerate." She shook her head, remembering who she was talking to. The Doctor was the definition of rude. "Never mind. Could you please just sonic me dry?"
He almost seemed to hesitate before simply nodding and waving his sonic screwdriver over her. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, as hot air fanned over her, drying her hair and clothes in an instant. Though she wished she'd thought to ask for a brush first, as she worked her fingers through her tangled hair. After a minute or two, she gave up combing out the knots without a proper hairbrush, and pulled her hair back up into a messy ponytail, using the hair tie on her wrist.
She was so focused on her task, she didn't see the Doctor sweep the sonic screwdriver discretely over her a second time. He glanced back at the monitor and sucked in an alarmed breath.
"What is it?" she asked, dropping her hands from her haphazard ponytail and looking up at him concerned. She glanced at the screen. "Does it have to do with the monster back on the roof?"
"That wasn't a monster," he said with a slightly forced grin, stepping in front of the monitor and blocking her view. Zoe frowned at this less than subtle movement. She couldn't read Gallifreyan, so what was he trying to hide from her? "That was an Auton, a very huge, ugly Auton at that," he continued, "though I've never seen anything like it before. The Nestenes are a hive mind race, extremely intelligent and ruthless when they want something. The Nestene Consciousness animates the plastic and controls the living plastic by transmitting orders, but to manipulate the plastic like that, to create a giant Auton from other Automatons, that was new. Never seen that before. Gives a new meaning to recycling, really."
"The giant Auton might have been what put the relay device on the roof in the first place," she suggested, deciding to focus on the issue at hand. If the Doctor didn't want her to know something, it was probably for a good reason. She just hoped whatever he was hiding didn't get her killed.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. Whether it was the fact she understood everything he said or her suggestion, she wasn't sure. "Might have been," he agreed, seeming to study her for a moment, then his eyes narrowed, looking severely annoyed. "Now look at what you've done! You got me talking about living plastic when we were talking about you. I don't see how you spending your night watching telle like any stupid ape has to do with how you know so much or what you were doing at Nickie's if you don't actually work there."
Zoe bristled at the implied insult. "Actually, I'm pretty sure they are connected, Doctor," she replied, trying to keep her voice light and failing. The Time Lord's blue eyes widened slightly at her icy tone.
She turned her head away, forcing herself to take a deep breath in an effort to calm down. When that didn't seem to curb her irritation, she gave up, clicking her tongue in annoyance. "Look, I don't understand it any more than you do," she said, returning her gaze to the Doctor, "but this morning I woke up, and," she paused, taking another deep breath before pushing forward, "and it wasn't just a TV show anymore. It was real. You were real, are real."
The Doctor's face scrunched up in confusion at the same time his eyes widened incredulously. "What?"
"You're the main character of my favorite show. It's called Doctor Who," she rushed on, feeling relief that the truth was finally out in the open, though it was quickly overwhelmed by anxiety, as she took in the Doctor's disbelieving expression. Would he think she was crazy? "It's a series that follows your life and adventures. It's how I knew about the Nestene Consciousness and living plastic. It's the first episode of the series after it was rebooted. I don't know how it happened, but I think I woke up in an alternate universe where, where you're real." Her voice faltered on the last few words, as the Doctor stared down at her, his mouth a straight line and blue eyes unreadable.
An uncomfortable silence fell in the TARDIS. Those kinds of silences were a little too common lately. She bit her lip and tried not to fidget under his piercing gaze. She got the feeling he was dissecting every word she'd said and reading her body language to determine if she was telling the truth or not.
When the silence became too much, she cleared her throat. "Well?"
"That's impossible," he said. "I believe you think you're telling the truth, but I'm telling you it's impossible. The odds of you waking up in an alternate dimension for no apparent reason, where something you watched on the telle is reality, are so infinitesimally small. The odds are literally 1 in a Marsene Prime." At her blank look, he explained with a resigned sigh, "Marsene Prime is considered the biggest known number."
"But, I can prove it," she said quickly. "I know about paradoxes, weeping angels, and that there's apple grass on a planet called New Earth. How do you explain I know that?"
He waved off her words. "This just goes back to my first theory. You could be a time agent from the future who's visited New Earth, met weeping angels on some misguided venture, and probably caused a couple paradoxes yourself."
Zoe dug her fingernails into her hands, feeling desperate for him to believe her. Listing off facts clearly wasn't enough for him, so she'd have to get a little closer to home. "Then how do I know you're a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey and that you have two hearts?" The Doctor visibly stiffened, looking like she struck him. The guilt seeping into her gut made her feel like hitting him would have been kinder, but she couldn't stop now. She needed him to believe her. "How do I know you're the last of your race? Your nickname in college was Theta. Your best friend was the Master. You ran after looking into the Untempered Schism when you were eight, and -"
The Doctor's hand covered her mouth, effectively stopping her talking. "Stop," he breathed, sounding like he was in pain. "Just stop." When she nodded against his hand, he released her, but turned around, so his back was facing her. His posture was stiff and ramrod straight.
"I'm sorry," she said, twisting her hands, and she really was. The guilt was eating her up inside. She knew this version of him was fresh from the Time War, but she couldn't think of an alternative solution. "Do you," she hesitated, "do you believe me now?"
He spun around to face her. His expression hardened and mouth back to a straight line. "No. I don't. There are a thousand reasons more likely than you knowing my personal history from watching a television show. Telepathy, precognition, and time sensitivity for starters," he began rattling a list of psychic abilities off his fingers, "even the TARDIS telling you all of that telepathically would be more likely than you being from an alternate dimension where I'm just a fictional character."
The Doctor took a deep breath, and his expression shifted to one of compassion. "The mind is brilliant. Capable of so much. Always looking for patterns and answers where there are none. Only about 90% of the brain is used by the average human, even among other sentient races, and you must have tapped into the other 10%. Genuine psychic abilities are rare and even harder to explain."
She was shaking her head at this point in his speech, already sensing what he was getting at, but he ignored her. "You didn't know how to explain it to yourself," he said, "so you concocted this impossible story to explain how you know so much, more than should be possible."
Zoe swallowed hard, tears skimming her lower lashes. She desperately pushed back the urge to cry. He didn't believe her, but at least he didn't seem to think she was crazy, just an irrational human being trying to explain the unknown away. "I know where the Nestene Consciousness is located," she tried to reason with him. "I know what adventures wait for you after you defeat it, and you think I'm just…"
"Seeing into the past and future," he finished for her. "Yeah."
"No, I'm not," she denied with a firm shake of her head. "I am from a different universe, and August -," she stopped and changed track. "I have to get back to my family. You're my only hope of getting home."
He shook his head slowly. His gaze full of sympathy, and maybe even a little empathy. "No, I'm sorry, but even if what you're saying is true, crossing between dimensions is impossible. Once the Time Lords -"
She cut him off, not wanting to hear what she already knew, that only the Time Lords could control the multiverse, and with them gone, travel between universes was supposed to be impossible. "I know you think it's impossible, but crossing universes is in your future. You'll -"
Before she could finish her sentence, he covered her mouth with his hand again. "Whatever you were going to say, don't," he said seriously. "It's not safe to know too much about your own future. The fabric of time could unravel if I do or say something I wouldn't have in the original timeline. Regardless of how you know what you know, you're going to need to learn what is safe to share and what isn't."
She sighed when his hand dropped away, realizing it was pointless arguing with him. No matter what she said, he didn't believe her, and part of her sensed he didn't want to believe her. She couldn't really blame him though; no one wants to learn they're just a fictional character in another world.
Seeming to sense Zoe had given up trying to convince him, the Doctor took her hand in his, surprising her. "Come on," he said, leading her into a hallway. "You're dead on your feet. Pretty sure you've been running on adrenaline and using sheer will power alone to stand here and argue with me." As if on cue, Zoe stifled an unexpected yawn, causing the Doctor to grin at her. "You can sleep in the TARDIS tonight." Then he added in stern voice, "But, just for tonight."
"But, what about the Nestene Consciousness? What if it attacks during the night?" she asked, barely registering what he said or where he was taking her. Now that she had no pressing agenda to attend to like running from Autons or persuading the Doctor she was from an alternate universe, it seemed all of the stress from today and lack of sleep the night before was catching up to her. Her eyelids drooped sleepily, and she had to fight to keep them open.
"It won't," he said confidently. "We interfered with its plan. Right now, it's probably falling back on plan B, but that'll take time. We'll deal with it in the morning after you've gotten a good night's rest."
Zoe barely registered that he was including her in his plans for tomorrow, but didn't have the energy or time to comment on it, as they stopped in front a white wooden door with her name, Zoe, painted across it in bright green. "The TARDIS must like you," he murmured, his brow furrowing together at the unexpected sight. "She's already prepared a room for you."
Her eyes widened slightly at that, finding herself more awake at this revelation. "Really?" She looked at the TARDIS ceiling and touched the wall with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.
Brief surprise that she'd addressed the TARDIS directly flickered across the Doctor's face, even as the TARDIS emitted a light pleased sounding hum.
"Well, go on then," the Doctor said with a small smile, "open the door."
Zoe returned the smile easily and went to turn the door handle. It swung open at the lightest touch, revealing a replica of her bedroom — not from her apartment, but her childhood bedroom. Everything looked the same, down to the sky blue walls, mahogany dresser, bookcase, and princess canopy bed.
"It's my room from back home," she said, her voice thick with emotion. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, and she wiped them away, feeling embarrassed. She blamed the sleep deprivation. "Everything's here, but it's even better than I left it." At the Doctor's silent questioning glance, she said, "She added pictures of my family."
Several framed pictures of Zoe and August covered the walls and the top of her old dresser. Some of the pictures she recognized from August's scrapbook. Like the snapshot of a seven-year-old Zoe making cookies and getting flour all over herself and August by proxy. His expression was priceless - his gentle blue eyes both exasperated and extremely fond all at once. She couldn't help, but chuckle looking at it, even as she felt a terrible sadness grip her.
"That's my father, August" she said, pointing the picture out to the Doctor. The Time Lord grinned at the picture, his eyes sweeping over the photos. "He's really my uncle, but he took me in when my mom died and raised me."
The Doctor frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
"Yeah," she said, releasing a shaky breath. She really, really did not want to reveal she thinks her father might be dead now, too. So, she rushed forward to grab an old Halloween picture she recognized from August's scrapbook. "This is me and my best friend Mads when we were kids. I'm the fireman, because of course it had to be something real, but if it had to be real, it had to be cool," she said, not noticing the way the Doctor frowned at her odd wording. "And Mads was a little diva queen even back then. See she's dressed up as Cleopatra and throwing sass at the camera." She rolled her eyes, laughing at a kid Madison striking a pose fit for a teen model.
The Doctor chuckled with her, but she couldn't tell if he just humoring her or if he sincerely found it funny. Before she could ask, he pointed over her shoulder. "Who's that?"
She turned to see what he was looking at and felt her jaw drop. An oval portrait of her mother framed in ornate silver was sitting on her bedside table.
"That's my mother," she said in quiet disbelief. She thought the TARDIS was using her memory to create the room, so how could the TARDIS duplicate a picture she'd never seen? "I'd forgotten what she looked like. I didn't have any pictures of her growing up. It seemed like the harder I tried to remember her, the fuzzier her face became in my head."
"May I?" he asked, gesturing at the picture, and she could only nod.
He walked over and picked up the picture. Looking back and forth between her and the picture. "She's very beautiful. You look just like her."
"Thank you," she murmured, tugging on her sleeve in embarrassment. August had told her on more than one occasion she looked like her mother, but it was a very different thing to hear it from the Doctor. Also, he just indirectly told her she was beautiful, and she didn't know quite what to do with that. In the end, she shoved it to the back of her mind for later - or never.
"You're welcome," he said with a grin. Then his eyes fell on a paperback laying on the pillow. "Oh, what's this?" he asked, scooping it up before she could stop him. It all happened so fast, there was nothing she could have done to prevent it. Within seconds, his easy grin turned into a shit-eating-one, and her face turned beet-red. "Oh-ho, what have we here? Savage Sins," he read the title aloud. He flipped it to read the back. "A romance story involving a dominant werewolf and a human witch. My, my, don't we have interesting tastes in literature." He opened the cover to the first page, and she knew he intended to speed-read it. She jumped forward, snatching the book out of his hands.
"Nope, no. Just no." There was no way she was going to let him read erotica in her bedroom and especially not with her in the room.
"Oh come on. Even I appreciate a bit of romance," the Doctor said.
She shook her head firmly. "Get your own copy."
He pouted playfully. "So mean."
She couldn't help but laugh at him. Keeping one eye on him the whole time, as if he might leap at her to seize the book, she tucked her guilty-pleasure into the second dresser drawer underneath her old pajamas. This action only seemed to amuse him, his lips quirking up in a smile.
She frowned at him suspiciously until her hazel eyes lit up. "Oh, wait. If this room is practically identical to the one I grew up in, then it should have…" She trailed off, hurrying to stand in front of the bedroom door. She walked three footsteps forward and two steps right, stopping over a floorboard. She stomped her foot down twice and did a happy dance when the sound came back hollow. She dropped to her knees and pried the long floorboard loose, lifting it to reveal her secret library stash.
She whipped out the first book lying on top. In this case, Inkheart. "Yes!"
"Oooh, what's this?"
She looked up to see the Doctor leaning over with interest to peer into her hide-a-hole. "My books," she said happily.
"Your books," he said dryly. "May I ask why you hid them in the floor? They're not even banned books. Why not just put them on a bookcase instead? Like that one." He pointed at the matching mahogany bookcase by her bed. It was filled with books…just all classics and slice-of-life fiction. Nothing to get excited over, really.
"Oh! Well, I wasn't allowed to read books like this," she said, pulling out her copy of the Sorcerer's Stone.
The Doctor's eyebrows lifted in horror. "Really? Why not?"
Zoe shrugged. "I don't know. I just wasn't allowed entertainment that wasn't 'grounded in reality.'"
"That sounds like a seriously deprived childhood."
She shook her head and shrugged. "Nah. Mads took care of me, but even she got weird about what I read, too, later on." She bent over to tuck the books into the floorboard, stifling a huge yawn as she did so. Due to this, she completely missed the Doctor's thoughtful frown.
"Well, I should let you get to sleep," he said after taking in her exhaustion. "We'll head out first thing in the morning."
"Okay," she said brightly. Being in her childhood bedroom — even a duplication of it — had helped ease some of her sorrow. She felt closer to her homeworld and to August. Now if only she could walk out of this room and find August's study down the hall with him inside, lounging at his desk with a steaming cup of earl grey tea and his nose buried in a thick volume.
Thoughts of her missing father hurt, so she turned to look at her mother's picture. She'd died so long ago. She hardly remembered her. She wondered if her mom was alive whether she'd be worried about her. She's technically a missing person in her homeworld now. Like poor Rose is missing in hers, only no one knows. If Rose's mom had accepted the truth, she would be so worried.
At the thought of Jackie, she slapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, no. Jackie!" she cried, suddenly feeling wide awake at remembering Rose's mother. How could she have forgotten Jackie Tyler? "I have to go and see her, make sure she knows I'm okay. She still thinks," she trailed off, biting her lip. She still thinks I'm her daughter, she finished silently. The news of Nickie's exploding would be all over the news by now. Jackie must be worried sick, thinking her daughter is missing or maybe even dead, and here she was comfortable and safe on the TARDIS.
"Jackie who?" the Doctor asked.
"She's," Rose's mom, "the woman I'm staying with."
"Well, she can wait until after you've slept." At her disbelieving stare, he huffed. "Time machine, remember. It'll be as if you came home right after the fire."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You do realize I know your driving record, right? Past and future. You don't exactly have a history of going when and where you want to."
"Oi! I am an excellent driver."
"Uh huh. Well, I have it on good authority that you failed your driving test and stole the TARDIS."
His eyes widened in brief surprise, then he muttered, "Guess I'll have to get used to that: you knowing everything about me."
Zoe turned her head away, looking uncomfortable. "Not everything. Just some things, and it's not because I'm psychic."
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Right. Cause you're from an alternate universe and learned it from the telle," he mocked. When she glared and replied with an indignant, "Basically, yeah," he just rolled his eyes again. "Go to bed, Zoe Peyton. Tonight can wait until tomorrow."
Author's Note
I wrote this chapter in a somewhat manic pace. It was fun and seemed to flow out easily until I reached the bit about Zoe needing to stay the night on the Tardis. I hope it's believable. Please review and let me know what you think about Zoe and the Doctor's antics.
For those who have reviewed, thank you so much. Your feedback means a lot to me. I'm glad you're liking the story so far, and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.
As for this chapter's question, let's do a have-you-ever.
Have you ever drank hot chocolate in the summer?
I have. I am a hot chocolate addict. Seriously. Hot chocolate is as good on a hot day (indoors with air conditioning) as a snow day in the winter. Just me? Oh, well.