Professors

The Doctor was the first one out of the TARDIS, squeezing into the train baggage compartment they'd landed in. He kept the door open for Clara and Adelaide, the human emerging first. They'd all dressed to fit the theme, him into a suit, Clara a black flapper dress, and Adelaide a dark green one. The Doctor was fairly certain Adelaide's was what she'd worn as Caroline when they'd met Agatha Christie, but he hadn't wanted to mention it in case she'd forgotten - it had been a time before the Library.

Either way, he thought she looked beautiful. Of course, honestly, he always did.

"Your train awaits, my lady," he said, gesturing around them to Clara.

"Wonderful." Clara clearly wasn't impressed, though neither Time Lord blamed her.

"The baggage car." The Doctor continued through the train. "The real wonderful is through here." He led them into a lounge car, filled with well-dressed people, plush chairs, and a bar at one end. "There were many trains to take the name Orient Express, but only one in space." He gestured at the window.

"Of course it is."

"Almost completely faithful recreation of the original Orient Express," Adelaide explained.

The Doctor nodded. "Except slightly bigger. And in space."

"And the rails are actually hyperspace ribbons."

"But in every other respect, identical. Painstaking attention to detail..." a man with an eyepatch pushed past him. "Most of the time." He glanced at Clara, who was smiling sadly. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"The smile." He moved closer to Adelaide, taking her hand briefly.

"Yeah," Clara nodded, "I'm smiling."

"It's the sad smile. It's a smile but you're sad. It's confusing. It's like two emotions at once. It's like your malfunctioning."

"Sorry?"

"It's like you're lying. You shouldn't lie. Adelaide..."

"Doctor," Adelaide said, "not now."

He nodded. "I just thought this would be a good one to..." he trailed off, looking away.

Though the Time Lords – even Adelaide, who'd never had a companion before – didn't want her to leave, Clara had made her opinion clear. Clara wanted to stop and the Time Lords knew that they had to let her.

"To end it," Clara finished for him. "Yeah. It is. It's a good choice. A good one to end on."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Shall we?" the Doctor took champagne flutes off a nearby tray, handing one to Clara and offering her his arm, knowing that Adelaide wouldn't want that much contact in such a public space. She had her limits and he would respect them.

"Mmm hmm..."

The group wandered further into the car, pausing when a speaker chimed. "Ladies and gentlemen. If you would be good enough to look from the windows on the right of the train, you'll be able to see the soaring majesty of the Magellan black hole."

The entire train turned to look out the window. "Oh, I remember when this was all planets as far as the eye could see," the Doctor mumbled. "All gone now. Gobbled up by that beast." He glanced at Clara. "And there's that smile again. I don't even know how you do that."

"I really thought I hated you, you know?" Clara said, speaking quiet enough that they barely missed it.

"Well, thank God you kept that to yourself," the Doctor scoffed. "Adelaide might have slapped you."

"Everyone's entitled to their opinions."

The Doctor shrugged. "There was this planet, Obsidian. You would have hated it, Adelaide, the planet of perpetual darkness."

"I did," Clara continued, nodding. "I did hate you, both of you. In fact, I hated you for weeks."

"Good, fine. Well, I'm glad that we cleared that up." The Doctor stepped a bit closer to Adelaide. "There was also a planet that was made completely of shrubs..."

"I went to a concert once. Can't remember who it was. But do you know what the singer said?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Frankly, that would be an absolutely astonishing guess if I did know."

"She said, 'hatred is too strong an emotion to waste on someone that you don't like'."

"Were people really confused? Cos I'm confused. Did everybody leave?"

"Manners," Adelaide mumbled.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is...I don't hate you. I could never hate you. But I can't do this anymore. Not the way you do it."

"Can I talk about the planets now?"

Clara sighed, glancing at Adelaide for comradery despite herself. "Yes. Go."

"Thedion Four. Constant acid rain."

Adelaide frowned. "I believe I had a picnic there once. Needed to wear a gas mask. Odd day."

"Who were you having a picnic with?"

"The Corsair."

"You and the Corsair had a picnic together on Thedion Four?"

"That's a lie," a woman said, making them all turn. She looked rather ill.

"I'm sorry?" Clara said.

"That's a lie, what you said. Thedion Four was destroyed thousands of years ago, so you couldn't have been there."

One of the guards hurried over. "Miss Pitt, are you sure you wouldn't rather rest in your room?"

"They're liars." Miss Pitt pointed at both of them.

"Perhaps you'd allow Mr. Carlyle here to escort you back." He gestured to another guard who'd stepped up.

"It'll be all right, miss. Just come with me." He escorted Miss Pitt away, offering her his arm.

The first guard, dressed slightly more decadently than the other, turned to the trio with a sigh. "Sorry about that. I suppose it's understandable in the circumstances. I don't believe we've been introduced. Captain Quell." He held out a hand.

"I'm Clara," Clara said, shaking his hand. "This is Adelaide and the Doctor."

"Ah," Quell nodded, "another one."

"Sorry? Another what?"

"Well, we've got doctors and professors coming out of our ears on this trip. So, what are you a doctor of?"

The Doctor glanced at Adelaide. "Now, there's a question that's never asked often enough. Let's say...intestinal parasites."

Quell frowned at him. "I'm beginning to think Miss Pitt was right about you." He started to walk off.

"What's wrong with her?" Clara called after him. "Did something happen?"

Quell's frown deepened. "You mean you really don't know?"

|C-S|

The group, after coming up with any excuse they could, managed to get into a smaller corridor in order to discuss the issue. The Doctor had also gotten them sleeping compartments, which had required the Time Lords to pose as husband and wife in order to get a larger one for them to share. They weren't planning on doing much sleeping, but it would be better for them to talk in a larger compartment than a smaller one.

"There's a body and there's a mummy," Clara said. "I mean, can you not just get on a train? Did a wizard put a curse on you two about mini-breaks?"

"It might be nothing," the Doctor shrugged. "Old ladies die all the time. It's practically their job description."

Clara crossed her arms. "And the monster?"

"Which was seen by no one except her," Adelaide said, "which leads to the likely conclusion it wasn't there. A dying brain, lack of oxygen, hallucinations."

The Doctor nodded. "Anyway, people do just die sometimes. She was over a hundred years old."

"Says the two thousand-year-olds."

"Clara, you actually sound as if you want this to be a thing. Do you?"

"No," Clara spoke quickly, "no, look, fine. You know, if you two think that there is nothing to worry about, then that is fine by me."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Ah, yes, I'm sure."

The Doctor held up his champagne flute. "To our last hurrah."

"Our last, yeah." But Clara didn't raise her flute. "I mean, it's not like I'm never going to see you again."

He frowned. "Isn't it?"

"Is it?"

"We thought that's what you wanted."

"No, what I mean...you're going to come round for dinner or something, aren't you? Do you...do you do that? Do you come round to people's houses for dinner?"

Adelaide had to look at the Doctor for that answer. She knew how he'd treated previous companions, but he was still the one with experiences in that sort of thing. She'd never had someone where doing that was an option.

"Of course," the Doctor nodded. "Why wouldn't we do that?"

Clara shrugged. "I don't know. I thought you might find it boring."

It was his turn to look at Adelaide. "Is it boring?"

"No," Clara said quickly, before Adelaide could shrug. She clinked their flutes. "To the last hurrah."

"The last hurrah."

|C-S|

The Time Lords sat side by side, Adelaide leaning against his shoulder. As expected, neither was remotely tired, so there was no point to even bother lying down. They were only silent for a minute before the Doctor started talking. "It's nothing. Nothing. Definitely. Sure. Ninety-nine percent sure."

Adelaide raised her eyebrows. "Really? Ninety-nine percent? Quite high."

He shrugged. "Okay, okay. Seventy-five."

"Lowering it twenty-four percent?"

"What would you make the number?"

"Zero."

The Doctor pulled away slightly to look at her better. "Zero?"

"I have a theory."

"A theory?"

"Have you ever heard of the Foretold?"

The Doctor grinned. "Investigation?"

Adelaide stood, pulling the Doctor up. He managed to steal a kiss before pulling on his jacket, grinning. "Investigation."

They left the sleeper cart together and paused outside Clara's door, but they didn't speak before they continued on. Clara hadn't wanted to be interrupted, and they would respect that.

The Doctor did manage to kiss Adelaide again before they entered engineering. Quell, before they'd left him earlier, had mentioned casually that some of Mrs. Pitt's belongings had been brought there. The chair was easy to spot, despite being covered in plastic wrapping. The Doctor removed it, scanning the chair with the sonic.

"Beautiful bit of kit, isn't it?" a man said, making them both jump. He was still standing in the shadows, holding something that looked suspiciously like a weapon, though they were fairly certain it was the engineer. "The Excelsior Life Extender. It's like driving around in a portable hospital."

"Yes, well," the Doctor shrugged, "it didn't do Mrs. Pitt much good, did it?"

"Got me there, sir. Certainly got me there. Maybe it malfunctioned."

Adelaide raised her eyebrows. "The records show that the machine did everything it could to keep her alive."

The engineer nodded. "Yeah. And almost drained the battery doing it."

"What do you know?" the Doctor asked.

"Well, I know that when I find two people fiddling with a chair that someone died in, it's best to play my cards close to my chest."

"Really? Well, I know that when I find a man loitering near a chair that someone died in, I do just the same."

The man smirked. "Perkins. Chief Engineer."

"The Doctor. Nosey Parker." He pointed at her. "Adelaide. Chief Theory-maker."

Perkins laughed. "Pleased to meet you both." He shook both of their hands. "Course, there's a rumor that someone or something else might be responsible."

|C-S|

Once they'd reached the lounge, the Time Lords walked up to a man reading a book. Adelaide hadn't wanted to interrupt him, but the Doctor had insisted that, since Perkins had told them to talk to this man, they should. "What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?" the Doctor asked Moorhouse.

"I'm terribly sorry, I don't believe we've met," he said, frowning at them.

"You know, the Foretold. Mythical mummy. Legend has it that if you see it, you're a dead man."

Moorhouse nodded. "Yes, I know what it is. You see, I happen to be..."

"Emil Moorhouse, professor of alien mythology," the Doctor finished for him. "I'm the Doctor, this is Adelaide. Pleased to meet you." He shook the man's hand.

Adelaide took a seat opposite Moorhouse, the Doctor leaning against her seat beside her. "Most interesting thing about the Foretold?"

"Er...well...it would have to be the time limit given before it kills you. I can't think of another myth where it's so specific. How does it go? Er...'the number of evil twice over. They that bear the Foretold's stare have sixty-six seconds to live'."

The Doctor shook his head. "No, no, no. Nice try. Very atmospheric. But that's not it. Try again."

"A cynical man might say that you were trying to pump me for information."

Adelaide lifted an eyebrow. She may have been a biologist, but the Doctor was such a fan of myths and stories that it seemed she'd absorbed some knowledge after spending such a long time with him. She'd recognized the technical details of the Foretold myth, but the Doctor knew the specifics. "The myth of the Foretold first appeared over five thousand years ago," the Doctor said. "In some stories, there is a riddle or secret word that is supposed to make it stop. Some characters try to bargain with it, offer riches, confess sons. All to no avail." As he spoke, he pulled out a silver cigarette case and offered Moorhouse a jelly baby, something that made Adelaide's eyebrow lift more.

"Well," Moorhouse laughed, "you certainly know a little mythology."

The Doctor shrugged. "I know a lot. One of the only subjects I know more about than Adelaide." He put an arm around her shoulders. "Always found them interesting. Because, from time to time, it turns out to be true."

Moorhouse smiled. "But that's the great appeal, isn't it? Earth legends are such dry, dusty affairs, and always fiction. But up here, in the stars, anything's possible. That's why I chose this field, to be honest. Hoping one day I might meet a real monster."

"Isn't that everyone's dream?" the Doctor said. "But you still haven't answered her riddle. What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?"

Moorhouse sat back. "Well, you can't run from it, that's for sure. There are accounts of people trying, but it never works. No matter how far you run, it's always right there behind you."

"Nope. Even colder."

"Alright, I give up, you tell me."

"Mrs. Pitt, the old woman who died," Adelaide said.

"She died of old age. Nothing supernatural."

"No, that's the answer."

Moorhouse frowned. "Her death?"

"No. The fact that you were here to witness it." The Doctor glanced behind them, hearing a commotion. "Excuse us, Professor," Adelaide said, standing to follow the Doctor over to Quell, who was addressing a few crew.

"I think we need to talk," the Doctor told him, both Time Lords having heard the very basics that a chef had died.

"This matter does not concern the passengers."

"We're not passengers." He handed the man the psychic paper. "We're your worst nightmare."

Quell's eyes widened. "Mystery shoppers? Oh, great."

The Doctor frowned, glancing at the paper. "Really? That's your worst?" He shrugged. "Okay, we're mystery shoppers. We could do with an extra pillow and I'm very disappointed with your breakfast bar...and all of the dying."

|C-S|

Quell poured two drinks, giving one to the Doctor. Despite the Time Lord showing a slight proclivity for alcohol in this regeneration, especially when compared to the last one, Adelaide had never felt the same inkling. He eyed them as the Doctor drank his quickly. "This is not exactly within your job description."

"Come on, Captain," the Doctor scoffed. "Where would we all be if we all followed our job descriptions, hmm? Good question. Glad you asked. In your case, you'd be doing something instead of climbing inside a bottle."

"I have followed the procedure for accidental death to the letter!"

The Doctor laughed. "Yes, I'm sure you have. And I'm sure you do just enough of your job to avoid complaints."

Quell frowned. "You don't know anything about me."

"Wounded in battle, honorable discharge," Adelaide said, making Quell look at her in shock. "Just a guess."

The Doctor smirked, picking up Adelaide's observations. "I think you've had the fight knocked out of you. You expected this to be a cushy desk job where you could put your head down until retirement. Well, I'm sorry. As of today, that dream is over."

"There is no evidence of any attack or other parties..."

"Yes, let's just sit around and wait for the evidence while the bodies pile up. Or here's a crazy thought...we could do something to stop it." The Doctor glanced at Adelaide. "Why are we even talking to you?" He held the door to Quell's office open for her, though Adelaide hadn't even exited before she stopped so that she didn't run into Perkins, who was waiting for them.

"Er...passenger manifest," Perkins was holding up a collection of papers, "plan of the train and a list of stops for the past six months."

"Quick work, Perkins," the Doctor said. "Maybe too quick."

"Yes, sir. I'm obviously the mummy. Or perhaps I was already looking into this."

|C-S|

Locked in a room with a sarcophagus and a woman whose grandmother just died was not how Clara had planned to spend her evening, but here she was. Clara knew that Adelaide didn't have her cell phone, as the woman hadn't thought it necessary to bring it to what they'd intended to be a dinner - and it was rude to have your phone at the table - so she had no way to contact them until they contacted her first. So now she, and Maisie, were just waiting, sitting on one of the boxes in the room.

"This Doctor and Adelaide," Maisie started. "They're your what, exactly?"

"They're not my anything."

"Oh, you mean you're just friends."

Clara nodded. "Yeah, of course we're just friends." But then she frowned. "Oh. Well, not even friends, not anymore."

"Well, that clearly isn't true."

She sighed. "It's true. It is. It's very true."

Maisie lifted her eyebrows. "You do all seem to be here together."

"Seriously? We're stuck in this carriage, probably all night, and all we can talk about is a couple?"

"A couple?"

Clara winced. "Not a couple, not really...it's difficult to say with them. But, look, we...we all knocked about together, we traveled and now we're stopping. This is a...I don't know, goodbye to the good times?"

"Were the good times all like this?"

Clara laughed. Sometimes, Adelaide seemed annoyed at how often the Doctor managed to get into difficult situations, but Clara knew that Adelaide enjoyed them. The Time Lady just wouldn't admit it, which just led the Doctor to attempt to get them into more traps to try and force her to admit it. "Yeah. Now that you mention it."

|C-S|

Adelaide stood behind the Doctor as they watched the security footage of Mrs. Pitt's death. Moorhouse had joined them, standing behind the Time Lords with Perkins. They watched as the woman sat there before suddenly becoming panicked, screaming and pointing at something that wasn't there, before she died as, promptly, sixty-six seconds passed.

"Sixty-six seconds," the Doctor mumbled. "It fits the myth. Did you see the lights flicker?"

Moorhouse nodded. "Mmm."

"Yeah, the lights went in the kitchen as well just before the chef saw it," Perkins said, bringing up the other attack. It progressed in the same way as the first.

"In all of the accounts, conventional weapons have no effect on the Foretold. It's immortal, unstoppable, unkillable."

Perkins frowned at Moorhouse. "Can we get a new expert?"

|C-S|

Maisie shook her head as Clara finished talking. "Oh, he was wrong."

"Yes. Yes. Yes, he was. And so was she."

"And...and high-handed and...and thoughtless and...and...and arrogant beyond belief."

Clara nodded. "Exactly."

"And you got on a train with him."

"I was saying goodbye. You can't end it on a slammed door. Adelaide wouldn't like that." Though, as Clara said it, she felt a twinge. She knew what Adelaide had done to her people. She knew that Adelaide was perfectly capable of slamming a door and never looking back.

That had always confused her about Adelaide. Clara could read the Doctor, she could understand him, in a way. But Adelaide...Adelaide was different.

She liked Adelaide, of course she did, and she knew that Adelaide liked her. Sometimes, she liked the fact that she was likely the first human Adelaide had ever actually gotten close to. But then she'd remember why that was and she'd wonder if she'd ever really be able to grasp the Time Lady.

Maisie shook her head. "Yes, you can. Anyone can do it. People do it all the time. Except, of course, when they can't." She sighed. "Life would be so much simpler if you liked the right people. People you're supposed to like. But then, I guess there'd be no fairy tales."

Clara said nothing.

The Doctor was a fairy tale hero, swooping down to save the day. But the more she thought about it...that had never been Adelaide's choice.

Clara had only ever traveled with the Time Lords together, but she couldn't honestly remember a time when Adelaide had headed a decision to save someone or stop something bad. She'd even made it clear multiple times that she disliked interfering...until the Doctor was in danger.

Then, it seemed as though Adelaide would stop time itself to save him.

|C-S|

The Time Lords were still working, both of their human assistants asleep around them, when the train dinged and the blinds rose, signaling the arrival of the morning on the train. Adelaide had made the Doctor promise not to contact Clara at least until then. She leaned back, taking the nearby intercom phone and, after sonicing it, disconnected it from the cord in order to call their companion.

It was odd, to know that Clara wanted to leave. Even though Amy and Rory had, technically, been Adelaide's first companion, they'd always felt more like the Doctor's. When she'd met them, she'd still been hanging on as a guest, still asserting her place in the Doctor's travels. She knew that the humans saw them both as their alien traveling companions, but Adelaide had never been able to extend the same favor to them.

Perhaps it was based in Amy's initial attempt to kiss the Doctor on her wedding day and then continually harboring an interest in the alien.

Adelaide tried to pretend she wasn't so prone to jealousy.

But Clara had been found when the Time Lords were secure as a pair, when Adelaide traveling in the TARDIS wasn't a question. Sure, Adelaide had recently regenerated, but they'd settled, in a way. There'd been no chance that Adelaide would walk out of the TARDIS, not after everything they'd been through.

And she and Clara had worked well together. Clara hadn't been opposed to being seen as her assistant, which was something she'd never dream of calling Amy.

Now, Clara wanted to leave. Adelaide knew she had to let the human make her own choices, but Adelaide was also fairly certain that this entire situation had to do with a Mr. Pink.

After all, Clara herself didn't seem all that ready to leave the Time Lords. It was like she had to keep correcting herself, reminding herself that she really did want to leave.

Adelaide wasn't a fan of someone making a choice for someone else.

Especially someone who presumed as much as Danny Pink.

The Doctor looked up once Adelaide had connected to Clara. "Hello, Clara? We've learned of another Mummy murder..."

"Adelaide, I'm in trouble."

She sat up, meeting the Doctor's eyes. "What's happened?"

"I'm trapped!"

"Where are you?" The Doctor leaped up, dashing out of the room with Adelaide only a few steps behind.

The Time Lord followed the signal using his sonic through the train, banging on the door of a storage room. "Clara! Is that you?"

"Yes," Clara called from inside. "Yes, hello. Can you hear us?"

The Doctor tried to sonic the door open, but he leaped back when the computer shocked him. "Ow! Computer, can you open the door, please?"

"Call me Gus. I'm afraid this door can only be opened by executive order."

"Oh, forget it." The Doctor tried again, but the sonic stopped with a beep. "Oh, now the stupid sonic..." he moved aside for Adelaide to try her's, but it stopped in the same manner.

"What?"

"Sonics aren't working," Adelaide called.

"What? What do you mean, they're not working? Why?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know. Some sort of a suppression field, I would guess. And it has to be a guess because, as I say, the stupid sonics aren't working." He frowned at the door. "What are you even doing in there?"

"Well, I was looking for you two, Mr. and Ms. Nothing-To-Worry-About."

"What, were we supposed to wake you up? Drag you out of bed because we had a hunch? Adelaide's made it quite clear that it's rude, especially since we thought you didn't want to do this anymore."

Clara sighed. "Look, look, please, can we just not do this now? I think we might not be alone in here." She lowered her voice. "There's a sarcophagus."

The Doctor frowned. "Is it in there?"

"I think we might just be about to find out. Turns out the sonics are working. Just not on the door we need."

Adelaide glanced up when the lights flickered. "It's coming."

"There's..." Clara paused. "It's okay, it's okay. It's...er...it's full of bubble wrap."

"But the lights..."

"Doctor, Adelaide, move away from the door," Quell called from behind them, making them both turn to find he'd brought two weaponized guards with him.

"Our friend's inside."

"Then they're in trouble, too. I spoke to Head Office. There is no mystery shopper. You're not even on the passenger list."

Adelaide sighed. This was a reason she didn't tend to break into things. TARDISes did have the ability to arrange their pilot's presence on something as simple as a passenger list, but the Doctor didn't seem to know how to use that feature.

Granted, Adelaide hadn't actually done it herself.

She'd never been the sort to frequent parties or trains without an actual invitation.

"Clara, we're going to have to call you back."

"Come on," Quell ordered.

The guards handcuffed the Time Lords. "You know," the Doctor said, "we're going to have to mark you down for this."

"You're not mystery shoppers." Quell started to lead the way down the corridor. "For all I know, you're the ones behind the killings."

"Oh, come on, Captain," the Doctor scoffed. "How many people have to die before you stop looking the other way?"

There were gunshots, which sent Quell off in that direction, bringing the Time Lords and guards with him. One of the guards was shooting at something only he could see in the lounge car, ordering people to keep away.

"What do you think you're doing, man?" Quell said, trying to get closer, but he could reach the guard.

"Please, please! Stop! No!" His head fell back and the guard collapsed, clearly dead.

"Get up, man," Quell ordered. "That's an order!" Another passenger hurried over to take the guard's pulse, but he shook his head. Moorhouse handed Quell the guard's gun, but the man passed it off before turning to the Time Lords. "It turns out it's three. The amount of people that had to die before I stopped looking the other way."

The guards released the Time Lords. "Thank you."

"Same as the others?" Perkins asked, appearing at the Doctor's shoulder as other guards carried the dead man away.

The Doctor glanced at Adelaide before stepping forward to address the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, could I have a moment of your time, please?" He did have to admit, being polite did get people to listen to you. He could see why Adelaide always tried to make him do it. "There's a monster on this train that can only be seen by those about to die. If you do see it, you will have exactly sixty-six seconds left in which to live. But that isn't even the strangest thing. Do you know what is? You. The passengers. Experts in alien biology, mythology, physics. If I was putting together a team to analyze this thing, I'd probably just pick Adelaide because she's an expert in everything, but if she wasn't available I'd pick you. And we" he gestured between himself and Adelaide "think somebody has. Someone of immense power and influence has orchestrated this whole trip. Someone who I have no doubt is listening to us right now." He looked up. "So, are you going to step out from behind the curtain and give us our orders?"

The room was silent. "The engines," Perkins said. "They've stopped."

A/N: This episode is certainly an interesting one for the pair of them. The Doctor still seems to be acting particularly Adelaide-esque...