The Fourth Doctor

Touched Romana's reddened, peeling cheek delicately, blinking back tears with only the greatest difficulty. A whole year had passed since he'd last seen her, following his arbitrary arrest in Blackpool; the Judoon wanted him for a number of offences, all of which he was guilty of. As he was being led away, Romana said that she'd wait in Blackpool, with the Tardis, where she ought to have been safe.

Things never go to plan.

Somehow - and the Doctor knew not how, for he hadn't been able to speak to her - she'd ended up on a medical starliner, powered by a nuclear reactor which was far, far beyond it's prime.

He made it back to Blackpool eventually, for a bribe goes a long way with the Judoon, and he'd expected to find Romana where he'd left her - hopelessly bored, probably quite angry, but essentially safe and well. Instead he'd discovered a note in the console room, giving him the co-ordinates for this ship.

A nightmare spectacle had unfolded here. Two days prior to his arrival, that poor, overworked reactor in the very bowels of the vessel finally decided that enough was enough, and cracked it's casing with a sudden surge of power. Tyrell, the nuclear engineer, had worked through the night to repair the damage and minimize the radiation leakage, all to good effect.

He'd had a helper, too - the only other person on board who was qualified to help, and who, through sheer horrible accident, had found herself shut into the sonic chamber when a frightful shot of radiation flooded it.

"Is she suffering?" he asked Tyrell, taking a steadying breath to calm his nerves.

"Now? Nah. Not at all. But your something of a scientist, I understand, so you know what's coming for her, right?"

"I do." the Doctor purred miserably. "How high was her dose?"

"Oh, mate, it was well over a thousand rem. There ain't a hope for her...she might last another week or two, but whatever time she's got left is gonna be horrific for her. We shouldn't put her through that. Shouldn't do it."

"You'd have us end things for her now?"

"Yes, mate. Kindest thing, isn't it? Now listen...I've got a vaporizer in me quarters, and at full power, it's an instant death. Or else, I got me a good old fashioned ballistic weapon, if you'd rather have a body to bury. She'd never feel a bullet between the eyes, but it'll make a lot more mess than the vaporizer. It's your call."

The Doctor shook his head. "Neither. I'll take her home with me."

"Buddy..." Tyrell said sadly, "a thousand rem! She ain't never recovering from this. Lethal dose is less than half o' that."

"I know, I know!" the Doctor snapped, his deep voice bouncing off the walls of the sterile beige hospital wing in the beset starliner. "She will die. But not for long."

"Eh?"

"We aren't like you," the Doctor told Tyrell, "we're from the planet Gallifrey, and nobody from Gallifrey ever really dies. Her current body is finished, but a new one waits in the wings. On the point of death, she'll change into it, born again."

Tyrell made neither hide nor hair of this remark, and his bewilderment was plastered comically to his kindly round face. "Well..." he said reluctantly. "It's just as you like, mate. If you want to take her, I'll not stop you. Though I say again, it would be so much kinder to just let her go."

"Thank you." the Doctor nodded gravely. "But trust me on this. May I take her now?"

"Sure thing, pal. I'll help you with her. Where's your ship?"

"East wing."

"Right."

They wheeled Romana's hospital bed in silence along the gloomy grey corridors of the insipid spaceship, in silence for most of the way. The Doctor would have been happy to let than silence roll on, allowing him refuge in his own thoughts, but sadly Tyrell wasn't a man to stay quiet for long.

"So I never asked," he blurted out, as they waited for a lift up to the east wing. "You and her...you a couple?"

"No," the Doctor said at once, "no, simply good friends. We travel together. I mean...were were intimate once. Just once, mind you. But it would never have worked out."

Romana rose again, about a week after he and Tyrell wheeled her into the Tardis. She was gifted with a remarkably rare talent too, the power to decide upon and alter the appearance of her next body, in the hours immediately following regeneration. With this new Romana, who was less aloof than her predecessor, and altogether better disposed towards him, they became a lot more than friends...

The Ninth Doctor

"So," Znya said quietly, "once she recovered, did she ever tell you why she was on that starliner, when she'd promised to wait in Blackpool?"

"Yeah!" the Doctor insisted, "yeah, she did! She said...um...well, she said..."

"You don't remember." Znya said simply. A statement not a question.

"It were hundreds o' years ago!" the Doctor exclaimed, his voice high pitched and quavering. "Blimey, I can't remember every little thing that"-

-"Well, I can tell you why she was on the starliner. Shortly after your arrest, she fell pregnant. With me. She gave birth to me three months before the accident."

"And sent you to live in Tudor England?" Rose snorted. "Why would she do that?"

Znya chuckled. "Miss. Tyler, if you had a baby girl, would you take her travelling with this man?"

Rose thought it over. "No." she admitted sheepishly. "But...Tudor England? Not the safest spot, is it?"

"But why did she leave you at all?" Jack butted in, accepting a small glass of wine from Cartwright. "Why would she do that?"

"Because she was a coward."

Everyone recoiled in horror, as the Doctor slammed a heavy fist on the tabletop. He could feel the anger, the fear and confusion, radiating from him in hot waves, which were sensed by everyone in the room. It was said that there was no more frightful a spectacle than an angry Time Lord, and right now he was well beyond anger.

"You don't talk about her like tha'!" he bellowed.

"But it's true." Znya shrugged. "She was a coward, and knew that you were a coward too, and decided that I'd be better off - far better off - growing up far away from the pair of you. She never did tell you why she was on the starliner, and you being you, never even thought to ask! She didn't want you to know, and she transmatted me away without a second thought. I grew up right here, in this castle, raised by the lord and lady of Callow's Reach. They're both gone now, alas. That makes me the lady of Callow's Reach.

The Doctor finally looked her in the eye, and felt his lower lip trembling. "But you can't be...you can't be mine!"

"Well," Jack muttered, "there's a surefire way to find out for sure, right?"

"You sure you know what your doing?" Rose asked uncertainly, as Jack fiddled fervently with the controls of the Tardis.

"Oh, yeah," he said unconvincingly. "Your in the presence of a fully qualified time agent, don't forget!"

"Former time agent." the Doctor barked, looking deeply uncomfortable as he fitted a lethal looking wire helmet to his head. Beside him, Znya was fitting one to her own head.

"Watch your tongue, handsome, or else I might press the wrong button by accident."

"Flamin' heck..." the Doctor muttered under his breath, "how did I get talked into this?"

"Relax." Rose said, ignoring the hammer of her own heart as Jack frowned in confusion, hitting the same button repeatedly. From somewhere deep within the engines came an angry groan, and a flurry of sparks from the ancient controls.

"Ooh, you bitch!" Jack exclaimed, glaring at the central column. "I might not be the Doctor, but you can damn well behave for me!"

The Doctor shared a horrified glance with Rose, as Jack spent a few more moments bashing at the console, before chuckling.

"Swell! We're in business, folks. Now, whatever you do, don't take the helmets off 'til it's over."

"Is this likely to hurt?" Znya frowned nervously, her face screwed up.

Jack shrugged. "Yeah!" he laughed. "Very much!" He pulled the master lever.

The Doctor gritted his teeth as a thousand volts of ion power surged through the helmet and into his body, setting his every nerve aflame, his every muscle trembling, and each of his bones rattling in their sockets.

"Hang in there," he heard Jack cry from far away, "just a few seconds, and we'll be done."

It took longer than a few seconds. A lot longer, in fact. Closer to a full minute. The Doctor's whole body was sore and aching, his hearts smashing in his chest and his eyesight blurry. Despite his ills, he yanked the helmet off as soon as the process was over, and staggered to his feet.

"Well?" he demanded of Jack, collapsing onto the console which groaned beneath his weight. "Yes? Yes?"

Jack's mouth was opening and closing like that of a goldfish. He gave a nonplussed shrug, and looked up from the monitor. "She's yours! With a hundred percent certainty. It's a perfect match. Hey, man...congratulations! Your a dad."

The Doctor ignored him, and looked down as Znya, who was climbing to her own feet painfully, a vindicated smile tugging at her lips.