This is ridiculous, Janeway thought, as she put another pin in her hair, hiding here, when my crew is somewhere out there, without me, because of me. She resented this unfortunate turn of events, but even so, in only the few hours she had known this Doctor, she knew that he was not lying to her. If he could find a way to get her back to Voyager, to her and her crew home, he would. Although she didn't know how, she seemed to sense the tremendous burden he carried in his eyes. She shuttered to think about the sadness he had seen, in his 902 years, about the deaths he had watched, over and over again, and yet, the wonder the universe still had to offer.
Kept safe by the dwindling cloaking resources of the TARDIS, they had sat for an hour in the kitchen of the great ship.
"Explain again," Janeway requested.
"Okay, so, yes, we are currently being hunted by a amorphous alien species that feeds on the live force of others. I, having a very long life force, am their prime target…"
"Doctor, I know that," Janeway brushed, taking a sip of her coffee, "I mean explain about this watch."
"Right the watch, actually it only looks like a fob watch, it actually is a device which stores the conscious enough to go completely undetected for as long as need be!"
"But what do I have to do with it?" Janeway asked. The Doctor sipped his tea.
"Oh, that's fantastic tea," he mused, "but anyway, it appears when you materialized on my ship, which I am still a little bit fuzzy on the details considering how you could have been showered with such levels of Huon particles and can still stand…"
Janeway thought of the Caretaker and the last few moments onboard the massive array. It might have had something to do with that.
"No matter," the Doctor continued, "when you materialized on my ship, it appears we, the TARDIS and I, and you, your ship, were passing parallel to each other, temporally and dimensionally speaking that is. What the fob watch will do is mask your Huon particle signature and my Time Lord signature for a period of time until these creatures can no longer afford the energy resources to search for us, and shrivel up and die! It's quite brilliant actually, I'm pleased the TARDIS suggested it."
Janeway furrowed her brow, "but how long will we be, hidden, if you will, by this clock?"
The Doctor looked away, "I don't know. This mechanism is not commonly used. It derived from the TARDIS, and the old girl is already on the fritz because of the sonic net the Family of Blood threw on her, she only just escaped!"
"Is that what that was? A net? It felt like a collision of some sorts."
"It was in a way…" the Doctor scrunched his nose again.
"And you are sure there is no way to reason with these beings? That killing them is the only way to preserve as much life as possible?"
The Doctor lifted his eyebrow in surprise. She could see first humor in his deep brown eyes that gave way to a terrible sadness.
"Yes," he said, "forty-three thousands unique worlds with countless cultures and vibrant communities have made that same mistake."
Janeway was silent for a moment. Her Starfleet training did not allow her to blindly accept assisted murder, but from all of her intuition, this man did not seem wrong. Once before she trusted absolute protocol over her gut feeling, and she vowed she would never make the same mistake. Janeway took a deep breath, and decided to trust this man.
"Never mind, let's return to the fob watch," Janeway directed, "why is this mechanism not used frequently?"
The Doctor was very quiet. He looked from his tea, to her clear blue eyes, her brow furrowed at him. She had let down her hair. It smelled like simple soap, but without any of the flowery scents Rose used to insist upon using. He liked it this way.
"Because," he said after a minute, "because it has a terrible cost."
"What's the cost?" she asked.
"Yourself," he broke eye contact. He felt a small blush rise in his cheeks. He concentrated on maintaining his composure.
"What do you mean, Doctor?"
He stood, taking his and her empty cup to the large sink basin. He put the dished into the water and leaned against the counter, his arms spread and his head hanging.
"Doctor?" She asked, not standing, but wanting to go and see if the strange man was all right.
The Doctor turned, leaned his back against the counter, and crossed his arms.
"I'm a Time Lord. I keep things in place, not only physically but temporally as well. You see, the universe, or multiverse, or however the hell you understand it, it is not a neat system, it gets clogged up with things like…" he took a breath, "with things like cross dimensional rifts and paradoxes."
Janeway sighed, "I hate time travel-"
"You don't know the half of it," the Doctor responded, "most of the time it's fine, things get sorted out, timey becomes wimey and back again, but sometimes, sometimes these events, these problems if you will, threaten a fixed point."
"What's a fixed point?" Janeway asked, her head clenching into a familiar headache at the thought of philosophical implications of traveling through time.
"A fixed point, or event, it's something that has to happen. Pompeii, the fall of Rome, Shakespeare, these are things that have to happen, otherwise…" he was silent again, "otherwise the universe rips apart and everything and everyone in it," he took a breath, "dies."
Janeway was silent. The Doctor continued, "it is the job of a Time Lord to preserve these fixed events, if I forget that, and live a life under the fob watch, it will be fine for a while, but eventually… " He could not finish his thought. Janeway jumped in.
"But, surely there are other who can make sure the system continues to run smoothly while you hide? There are other Time Lords?"
It was as if every mechanical noise in the room was put on mute. Janeway could hear the beat of her own heart in her ears, and could almost make out two separate beats as well. It must have been the reverberation off the metallic walls, she dismissed.
"I'm the last," was all he said.
Janeway wanted to say she was sorry. But she was not sure her empathy would be able to be translated as well as she would like. Instead, she stood, pulled at her uniform, and crossed the room to where the Doctor still leaned against the counter.
"In that case," she said extending her right hand to his, "tell me what I have to do."
Just keep me out of trouble for a while. When the danger is gone, then the TARDIS will no longer be able to suppress my Time Lord nature, and I will open the watch on my own. Just keep the watch safe. We will have to wait it out. Janeway had been a nanny once when she was 12. She had watched her next-door neighbor's dog while he was on a trip one weekend. If she could manage a beagle with an anxiety disorder, keeping this clearly brilliant man safe for a period of time should be no problem. She looked at herself in the mirror.
Although she was not a vain woman, she though she seemed to pull off the wardrobe rather well. Her tailored camel colored pants fit well through her long legs, and cuffed just before tall and warn leather boots. The pants allowed her enough room to walk and run, without worrying about damaging the fabric. Her white linen blouse was airy and comfortable on her shoulders. It had pockets on the breasts, and was fitted along her waste, and tucked into the high pants. A broad leather belt offered her just enough care along her stomach to make her feel supported. Finger waves framed her face, and extended to just above her neckline. She was also a practical woman, she recognized the sooner she was able to help the Doctor, the sooner she would be able to find a way to return to Voyager and help her crew. She new they were in good hand, but she was still concerned for their ultimate goal, she would make sure they got home, she had sworn to make sure.
There was a knock at the door. Janeway turned to the entryway to the spare bedroom the Doctor had allowed her to use to change.
"I was just going to warn you…" he trailed as he saw her. The words left his mouth, and he was vaguely conscious of some strands of mumbles from his lips. He felt something stir deep within him, something that not even his love for Rose had elicited.
"Doctor," she asked, stepping towards him, "Is everything alright?"
"Fantastic," was all he could manage. She raised her eyebrows. The effect returned his conscious to the matter at hand, "I mean, no, I… I was going over the, ah, the TARDIS' parameters, and, well, I really don't know much beyond what clothes we were given and just the hope that the old girl was able to construct a suitable disguise. But, well, I still don't know how long we will need to use it."
Janeway frowned, "well, Doctor, how long do these beings survive? Without your energy, that is?"
"You see," he sighed, "it's actually rather fascinating, it's quite impossible to tell unless you know the precise age of these beings and how long they have been in open space. I have heard of some lasting no more that a few months, but others, well other's have lasted longer."
He looked away. She took the opportunity to admire his wardrobe. Light chaps covered his long legs, and he wore a loose fitting vest with a jacket covering his gangly arms. His necktie was tucked into the vest, and slightly askew. His hair was brushed as neatly to the side as he could, but a few strands stood out. Wiry frames masked his dark eyes.
"Do you trust your ship's capabilities, Doctor?" Janeway asked, clearing her throat to focus her mind on the matter at hand.
"With my life," He answered.
"Well," Janeway shrugged, "It seems I have no choice but to do the same."