A/N: Wow, you guys! Over ten thousand views in just sixteen chapters? Color me amazed. You're awesome, all of you.

Magic Door

John stepped out of the TARDIS and looked around in amazement. "It's a spaceship. Brilliant! We haven't been on a spaceship in forever."

The Wolf joined him outside. "Actually, this is the first real spaceship you've been on," she corrected. "All the others were space stations. Stationary."

"Even better." John wandered around the room, which seemed to be the hub of the ship. "It looks kind of abandoned," he mused. "Anyone here?"

"Nah, nothing here. Well, nothing dangerous," the Wolf amended. "Well, not that dangerous." She paused.

"Better check?" John prompted.

"You know what, I'll just have a quick scan, in – case there's anything dangerous," the Wolf finished, ignoring John resolutely.

While the Wolf messed with the ship controls, John went over to a viewing screen. "So, what's the date?" he asked. "How far ahead are we?"

"About three thousand years into your future, give or take," the Wolf replied. She flipped up one last switch, which turned on the lights, and revealed a star system through part of the ceiling. "Fifty-first century. Diagmar Cluster. You're a long way from home, Johnny. Two and a half galaxies."

"Is that nearer or further from Earth than New Earth?"

"Well, New Earth won't be discovered for another five billion years," the Wolf reminded him. "That one's quite a bit further away. Five galaxies. Or is it six? No, seven. Nine galaxies."

John snorted out a laugh, grinning. "Got it." The Wolf went back over to the controls, examining some ruined ones.

"Oh, dear, had some cowboys in here. There's a ton of repair work going on." John went over to see what she was doing. "Look at that," she continued, pointing out a graph that seemed to be registering as off the scale. "All the warp engines are going full capacity. There's enough power running through this ship to punch a hole in the universe. But we're not moving. So where's all that power going?" she asked rhetorically, puzzled.

John shrugged. "Where'd all the crew go?" he asked instead.

The Wolf nodded thoughtfully. "Good question, Johnny boy. There aren't any life signs registering on board."

"Well, we're in deep space. They didn't just nip out for a bathroom break," John said.

"No, they do have facilities for that activity this far in the future," the Wolf drawled, smiling wryly. "And I checked them." She sniffed the air suddenly. "Can you smell that?"

John put his nose in the air. "Yeah, someone's cooking."

"Odd." The Wolf tapped the console screen a few times to open the door behind them. It slid shut after they passed with a quiet hiss.

The far wall of the new room was paneled, and an ornate fireplace set in the wall contained a blazing fire. A ticking clock completed the look of the mantlepiece. "Well, there's something you don't see on your everyday average spaceship." She tapped the wood of the mantle. "Eighteenth century. French. Nice mantle," she complimented. "Not a hologram, not even a reproduction. This actually is an eighteenth century French fireplace." She knelt down to peer through it. "Double sided. There's another room through here."

While the Wolf was inspecting the fire, John wandered over to a porthole along the same wall. "That's impossible," he informed her. "This is the outer hull of the ship. The fireplace is going to nowhere."

"Hello," the Wolf said gently.

John turned around, confused, only to find the Wolf still staring through the fireplace. He went over and knelt down next to her, and was startled when he saw a young blonde girl, no older than eight or so, in a night gown, staring back at them.

"Hello," the girl greeted hesitantly.

"What's your name?" the Wolf asked.

"Reinette."

The Wolf nodded. "Reinette. That's a lovely name. Can you tell me where you are, Reinette?"

"In my bedroom."

"And where's your bedroom? Where do you live, Reinette?"

Reinette's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Paris, of course."

"Paris, right!" the Wolf said as if it had been obvious.

"Hi, Reinette," John waved at the girl.

Reinette waved back nervously. "Monsieur, Madame, what are you doing in my fireplace?" she finally asked.

"Oh, just a routine fire check," John improvised.

"Can you tell us what year it is?" the Wolf added.

"Of course I can," Reinette said indignantly. "It's seventeen hundred and twenty-seven."

"Right, lovely year. August is rubbish though," the Wolf warned. "Stay indoors. Okay, that's all for now." She stood up, leaving John on the floor.

"Thanks for your help," John said kindly. "Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire. Night night."

"Good night Monsieur," Reinette farewell-ed. He stood too and moved away from the fireplace.

"If this is fifty-first century, how did we just talk to the eighteenth?" he asked the Wolf.

"If you'd recall, I also said that this ship was generating enough power to punch a hole in the universe. I think we just found the hole," the Wolf muttered. "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink."

John blinked. "What's that?" he asked blankly.

The Wolf paused and wrinkled her nose, making a face. "No idea. Just made it up," she admitted. "Didn't want to say magic door."

John rolled his eyes, going over and kneeling to inspect the grate more closely. "And on the other side of your so-called magic door was France in seventeen twenty-seven."

The Wolf rejoined him, taking a look at the upper mantel. "Yep, she was speaking French. Right period French, too. Gotcha!"

"Wolf?" John asked as she pulled a switch hidden inside the mantlepiece, causing them both to rotate as the fireplace spun, dropping them off in a well decorated bedroom. Reinette was sleeping peacefully in her bed, but woke with a start when John lost his balance and fell the foot to the ground from his crouched position.

"Sh, sh, it's okay," the Wolf reassured the girl. "Don't scream, it's just us. It's the fireplace people. Look," she pointed at the fireplace. "We were talking just a moment ago. We were in your fireplace." She lit a candle with her screwdriver to bring some light to the room.

"Madame, that was weeks ago. That was months," Reinette told her, puzzled.

The Wolf tilted her head and faced the fireplace again. "Has it? Must be a loose connection," she pondered. "You should get a man in about that."

John noticed something and got to his feet to take a look at the clock sitting on the mantle. "Wolf?" he drew her attention to it.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" Reinette asked, but the two adults didn't answer, both staring at the broken clock.

"Okay, that's scary," the Wolf breathed.

"You're scared of a broken clock?" Reinette sounded unimpressed.

The Wolf motioned for John to join Reinette on the bed and he obeyed, going to sit next to her. "Just a bit scared, yeah," he said. "Just a little tiny bit."

"Because you see," the Wolf picked up the explanation, "if this clock's broken, and it's the only clock in the room, then what's that?" With silence pervading the room, the loud tick tock of a clock could be easily heard. "Because, that's not a clock. You can tell by the resonance. Too big. Six feet, I'd say. The size of a man."

"What is it?" Reinette asked, now a little frightened as well.

John drew her into his side, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders, following along with the Wolf's plan. "Well, let's think," he encouraged. "If you were a thing that ticked and you were hiding in someone's bedroom, first thing you do – break the clock."

"No one notices the sound of one clock ticking, but two?" the Wolf agreed. "You might start to wonder if you're really alone." She carefully walked toward the bed, motioning for John to stay put. "Stay on the bed," she told the girl. "Right in the middle. Don't put your hands or feet over the edge." The Wolf knelt beside the bed and peered under it, sonic screwdriver at the ready.

Suddenly, something lashed out, knocking the screwdriver flying from her hand. She stood quickly, to find a robotic figure standing on the other side of the bed, a grotesque smiling mask over its face. The Wolf shot John a warning glance. "Reinette," she whispered, "Don't look around." John held the girl still. "You stay exactly where you are. Hold still, let me look." She gently held the girl's head between her hands and looked into her eyes.

After a moment, she glared up at the robot. John almost flinched at the fury in her eyes. "You've been scanning her brain. What, you've crossed two galaxies and thousands of years just to scan a child's brain?" she asked angrily. "What could there be in a little girl's mind worth blowing a hole in the universe? Worth risking her?"

Reinette shook her head. "I don't understand. It wants me?" She turned to stare at the robot. "You want me?"

"Not yet. You are incomplete," the robot told her.

"Incomplete? What's that mean, incomplete?" The droid ignored the Wolf's questions. "If you can answer her, you can answer me. What do you mean, incomplete?"

The android silently walked around the bed and deployed a spinning blade from its hand. A whirring filled the room, but not the comforting noise of the sonic screwdriver. The Wolf backed away towards the fireplace as John leapt from the bed. Reinette grabbed onto his hand, holding him back. "Please, Monsieur, be careful," she begged.

John smiled down at her. "It's just a nightmare, Reinette," he told her. "Don't worry about it. Everyone has nightmares." The Wolf dodged as the robot slashed at her. "Careful, Wolf!" he called.

"Wouldn't have thought of that, thanks," the Wolf growled, eerily reminiscent of the Sycorax encounter. "More to the point, though. Even monsters from under the bed have nightmares. Don't you, monster?" she asked the droid.

The robot struck at her again, but when the Wolf dodged, its blade dug into the mantle and stuck. It jerked to no avail, unable to free itself, but it just kept on tugging.

"What do monsters have nightmares about?" Reinette asked, still kneeling on the bed.

John grinned at the girl as the Wolf pulled on the lever that would take them back to the spaceship. "Her!" he answered cheerfully as they rotated away, leaving behind a very puzzled little girl.

As soon as the fireplace stopped, the Wolf ran across the room. The robot pulled free just as the Wolf reached the opposite wall and began going after John. "Uh, Wolf?" he called for her. "Little help?"

The Wolf seized an impressive looking pressurized tube from a rack and quickly fired its contents over the android just as it backed John into a corner. A white substance sprayed out, and the droid immediately froze up, its motions grinding to a halt. "Excellent," John complimented, breathing a sigh of relief. "Ice gun."

"Fire extinguisher," the Wolf corrected as she inspected the now unmoving robot.

John looked too, but from a healthy distance. "So that thing is from here?" he asked.

"Yup. Took a field trip to France," the Wolf confirmed.

"Explains the fancy dress." John indicated the brocaded clothes the robot was wearing.

The Wolf nodded. "Yeah, must be some kind of basic camouflage protocol. Nice needlework, shame about the face." She removed the android's frontal portion and revealed numerous wheels and gears like clockwork inside the head. "Oh, you are beautiful," she breathed, staring at the workmanship in awe. She focused back on the robot as a whole. "No, really, you are. You're gorgeous! Look at that. Space age clockwork."

"Very steampunk," John agreed.

"I love it," the Wolf declared. "I've got chills. Listen," she told the droid, "seriously, I mean this from the heart, and, by the way, count those, it would be a crime – it would be an act of vandalism – to disassemble you." She held up her sonic. "But you threatened a child, so that won't stop me."

The android suddenly clicked and beamed away.

"Short range teleport. Can't have got far," the Wolf exclaimed urgently, running back to the mantle, John following. "Could still be on board."

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"Back in a sec."

John shook his head. "Uh uh, not without me you're not." He jumped on as well.

The Wolf rolled her eyes. "Oh, very well, if you must," she groaned, pulling the lever to send them both back to France. "Reinette?" she called softly. "Just checking you're okay."

"Wolf, the room's different," John pointed out.

The Wolf glanced around, running her fingers along a harp set up by a wall. "Huh. Well –"

"Ahem," a young woman interrupted politely, giving them a look of amusement.

"Oh, hello," John said uncomfortably.

"We were just, erm, looking for Reinette. This is still her room, isn't it?" the Wolf asked. "We've been away, not sure how long."

"Reinette!" a woman's voice summoned from outside. "We're ready to go."

Reinette turned. "Go to the carriage, Mother," she commanded. "I will join you there." She shifted her gaze back to John and the Wolf. "It is customary, I think, to have imaginary friends only during one's childhood. You two are to be congratulated on your persistence."

"Reinette! Well. Goodness, how you've grown," the Wolf stuttered.

"And you do not appear to have aged a single day." A hint of a smile peeked at the corners of her mouth as she eyed John up and down discreetly. "That is tremendously impolite of both of you."

"Right, yes, sorry," John broke in, backing away toward the fireplace as the Wolf did the same. "Listen, lovely to catch up, but better be off, eh?" he nudged the Wolf.

"Yes," she agreed. "Don't want your mother finding you up here with a strange man and woman, do we?"

"Strange? How could you be strangers to me?" Reinette wondered. "I've known you since I was seven years old."

She backed John up against the mantlepiece, with the Wolf off to the side. "Yeah, I suppose you have," the Wolf admitted. "We came the quick route."

Reinette placed a hand against John's chest, causing the Wolf to frown. "You seem to be flesh and blood, at any rate, but this is absurd," she murmured. "Reason tells me you cannot be real."

"Oh, you never want to listen to reason. Just ask her," John said uncomfortably, nodding at the Wolf and his eyes fixed on the hand on his chest.

A servant called for Reinette again. "A moment!" she said over her shoulder, voice raised. "So many questions, so little time." Without warning, she pushed John up against the mantle and pressed her lips to his in a firm kiss.

John froze, astonished by the turn of events, but Reinette's lips were insistent on his, drawing him to her.

"Oi!" the Wolf cried, grabbing John's shoulder and pulling him toward her and away from Reinette just as a servant entered the room, again calling for Reinette.

"Mademoiselle Poisson!"

Reinette ran out, leaving the servant to stare at the two strangers, confused by their presence. John and the Wolf stared after her in shock. "Poisson?" the Wolf stuttered. "Reinette Poisson? No way. Reinette Poisson. Later Madame Etoiles? Later still mistress of Louis the Fifteenth, uncrowned Queen of France?"

"Who the hell are you?" the manservant yelled, outraged.

"I'm the Wolf," she announced.

"I was just snogged by Madame de Pompadour?" John asked in a mutter as the Wolf pulled the lever to take them back to the fifty-first century.

The Wolf marched toward a doorway that John hadn't seen before, a thunderous look on her face. "You really needed to kiss her, John?" she asked incredulously.

John stopped following her, surprised. "Wait a minute. I didn't kiss her, she attacked me!" he protested. "I didn't have much choice in the matter."

The Wolf scoffed. "Do you know the kind of danger you could have put history in? Reinette Poisson, Madame de Pompadour, is supposed to become King Louis' mistress. How can she do that if she's pining after you?"

"I didn't ask her to!" John yelled back, frustrated. The Wolf huffed angrily and stalked through the doors, John going after her, still speaking. "I didn't instigate anything, I was just tagging along after you, as always. What's your problem with it anyway? It's not any of your business if – eye," he halted, staring at a camera near the ceiling.

"If you what?" the Wolf snapped, whirling to face him.

"No, not I. Eye," John jabbed a finger at the camera. "That's an eye in there. Like a real eye."

The Wolf's face morphed from aggravated to puzzled as she walked back to take a look at what John had noticed. Sure enough, an eyeball stared back at them, blinking periodically. "Human," she muttered. At her words, the camera quickly retracted back into the ship's bulkhead. The Wolf cocked her head, eyes narrowed, and went over to a small hatch in the wall, clicking it open.

John heard a quiet thump-thump emanating from the wall, and poked his head around the Wolf to see what the source of the noise was. He froze. "Why – is there a heart wired into the ship?" he asked slowly.

The Wolf hesitated. "That's a human heart. You remember what we said the flight deck smelled of?" she inquired.

"Someone cooking," John said, a sinking feeling growing in his stomach.

"Apparently that was literal," the Wolf agreed darkly.

A/N: You didn't think I'd cut out all the angst, did you? Those two need a good argument once in a while.