This story has been rewritten. See chapter 1 for details.

Chapter 5

The next day, Victor hunched over the line of tabletop reactors that had sprung up in his control room, carefully twisting the metal knob of one of the temperature controls. A guttural sound ripped through the air behind him and he jerked the knob too far to the right. He cursed, rubbed his eyes under his glasses, and turned.

Rose lay contorted in his chair, all arms and elbows. Under her head she'd wadded up the long train of the golden gown she'd changed into earlier, her face hidden by a mane of wild blonde curls.

He cocked his head to the side. How on Gallifrey did she manage to fall asleep like that? And how could anyone, much less someone of her small stature, make such an unholy noise?

She let out another snore, deep and ragged like a beast being strangled. He'd be lucky to hear his own thoughts above such racket. Next time she tried to stay up all night to help, the answer would be a resounding no.

He leaned down and twisted the dial back with his forefinger and thumb. And what of this 'darkness' she kept on about? Rose said it originated in her universe. That couldn't be coincidence. What if reaching the source of this destruction offered no solutions? A fixed point dooming everything?

He stared at the white roundels along the dome of his control room. Then he wasn't going down without a fight.

"Oi!"

He jumped at Rose's sudden appearance to his left, her hair still matted to one side of her forehead.

"Mind the reactor on the end." She extricated a smoking tube with a pair of tongs and set it in a holding stand, then smoothed her bangs off to the side. "You alright there, mate?"

The smell of metal doused with smoke flavor stung his nose. "Fine."

Rose leaned in to examine the beaker, the gauzy outer-layer of her strapless gown shimmering as she moved. "The second batch is already falling behind. We need to switch to constant current instead of constant potential."

He nudged his glasses higher on his nose. "But what about interference from redox reactions? I hardly think—"

"Look, I know you're all about efficiency, but we don't have time for that. A week, tops, that's how long we've got. Constant current will cut our time by a third."

"Or," he said, "we could use better technology like I suggested in the beginning. Your grade-school chemistry set is hardly the best way to do it. And look at these wires all over my control room. I can barely walk."

"Well, we don't have time for me to learn your fancy equipment, now do we?" She maneuvered around him and tweaked the dial on the reactor he'd just reset. "We do this phase my way, and you can use the TARDIS for particle fusion next."

"Your way?" He scoffed. "I think you're confused as to whose ship you're on."

"Look, we can quarrel all day or we can save the universe. Which do you prefer?"

He waved to the side. "By all means, go right ahead. I prefer the darkness to your constant blathering anyway. The quicker it comes, the faster I'll be out of my misery."

She opened her mouth but paused, a trace of a smirk on her face. "Do I detect an undercurrent of humor in that insult?"

"Just do your job."

She grinned as she bent to adjust the last of the tabletop reactors. "Knew you weren't as uptight as you pretend to be."

He ignored her as he snatched a beaker off the table and scanned it. "This mess has completely disrupted my plans. At this rate, I'll never get back on schedule. "

"Something else you need to do?"

"If you must know, I was thinking of paying Junnis-Clave a visit."

"Never heard of it."

Not surprising. Even as a guest on his parallel counterpart's TARDIS, she couldn't have possibly visited every planet there ever was. "It's on the edge of the Centaurus Galaxy."

She fell into his chair. "And by 'visit' you mean …"

"Destroy of course."

"Ah." She nodded. "Why's that?"

"Why not?" He raked his laser across another beaker. "They claim they have achieved nirvana through computer-enhanced telepathy, but they haven't ascended on any meaningful level. They're simply inducing a mental high with electric impulses."

She looked at him as if he's just spoken a foreign language. "So?"

"Don't you see? They're impairing their cognitive function and calling it enlightenment. Such arrogance, such ignorance. I'd be doing the universe a favor, honestly."

"Nah," Rose said as she leaned forward onto her elbows. "Why bother? This universe is old hat by now. Get the dimension cannon rebuilt and you can spread your influence throughout a new universe, completely untouched. You could stare down your true equal—two Time Lords, last of their kind, battle to end all battles."

He crossed his arms. "What makes you think I won't cross over just to end him and keep you for myself?"

"Why naturally you'd try." She flipped her hair off her bare shoulder. "I mean I am rather marvelous? Who wouldn't battle across the cosmos for the best lab assistant in all of creation?"

The corner of his mouth hooked upward against his will. "And you have the audacity to scold me for my ego. Who has the big head now?"

"Hey, you said it yourself. You only take the best." Her pink tongue peeked out from between her teeth.

He couldn't stop the chuckle that billowed up and out of his chest. He scooted onto the edge of the table. "Tell me about this alternate me. What makes him so special?"

Rose traced the patterns on the back of her bracelet. "Ah, well it's all about the screwdriver, you see. He uses sonic." She gazed up at him from under those dark lashes of hers, smothered in mascara. "Sonic screwdrivers are so impressive."

Such blatant innuendo. He was on his feet before he think. "And laser screwdrivers aren't, is that what I'm getting here?"

"You said it, not me."

He put on his most charming smile and strutted toward her. "I'll have you know my screwdriver could out-power a sonic device a million fold."

Rose glanced at her nails. "But see, it's not about the raw power. It's about skill, about using your wit rather than your brawn."

"Oh, is that right?" he said an octave lower. An electric hum crackled the air as he neared. He had half a mind to accept her overt challenge and let the reactors fry. What were a few secrets worth anyway? And wouldn't it be worth the cost to uncover a few more of hers?

The reactor at the end let out a shrilly ding. Rose slid off the chair and brushed past him. "Better get back to work. These won't sort themselves, after all."

Was that it? Wind him up with wanton flirting and then flip back to business as usual? What went on in that impossible brain of hers?

Ah, but humor wasn't just good fun for her, was it? It was deflection; it was defense. Just what was she protecting?

Maybe she encouraged him to channel his energies into trans-universal conquest so he would be too engrossed to do anyone harm, but what did she hope to accomplish once he'd succeeded in crossing over? Because if she thought he was beyond ending her lover, she was mistaken. He had no intention of letting that Doctor live past his usefulness. "Tell me Rose, what do you really think I'm going to do once the plasma is synthesized?"

She shifted on her bare feet as if considering for a moment. "I think you're gonna do the right thing and let me save the universe."

Such wasted sentiments. "You're projecting your Doctor's qualities onto me. Maybe that's what he'd do, but the truth is, I'm not him. I'm nothing like him."

"I don't think that's true."

"What makes you say that?"

"I saw in your head. You're just lonely. I don't think you really want to do all those bad things."

As if reducing actions into classifications like 'good' or 'bad' held any measurable scientific significance. "In case you haven't noticed all the servants around, I'm hardly alone."

"Yeah, but that's not the same. You force people to interact with you 'cause you haven't got a friend in the universe. Well, except me."

"You … you consider me a friend? Your captor?"

She blew out a breath and shrugged. "Yeah. You're not a bad bloke when you're not off in one of your moods trying to prove a point. You're actually kinda fun to hang around."

Surely she had some ulterior motive. No one wanted to be around him just for the sake of it. But then she grinned that grin of hers, so wide and free and he had his answer, insane though it was. Warmth spread across his palms and flushed at his ears, as though his biological functions had short-circuited.

She wiggled the empty tube back in place inside the reactor, then pulled off her gloves. A streak of red ran down the underside of her forearm.

He grabbed her wrist. "What's this?"

She blinked, then tugged herself free. "I just went for a couple of rounds at the sparring arena this morning, sheesh."

No wonder she took so long to get ready. "With all the wonders on my ship, why there? Don't you have any idea how dangerous it is?"

"All that glitter and glass, it's just not me. Sometimes a girl just wants to wear pants and vent her frustrations out. Look, I just been sparring, no real matches or anything. Plus, I think they're all scared to hurt me with them thinking I'm some sort of mistress to you. They all seem to be under the impression that you're sweet on me."

What? How could his servants think him compromised? He gave one simple tour. Unless … Was their exchange on the balcony the night before less private than he realized? "Rose, I forbid you to spar."

"What? Why?"

"I don't have to have a reason." He tucked his arms into one another. "My word is law."

"Someone's in one of his moods. Let me guess, you haven't eaten all day, have you?"

He thought back. "Well, no, but—"

"Right. I think I know what the problem is." She pulled him toward the double doors. "Come on. In my experience, there's only one thing that can help a cranky Time Lord."

The sounds of chatter and chinking glass quieted as they entered the dining hall. Even the live music decrescendoed. Everyone at the tables hunched over their food, eyes down—all except for Sikah seated in the back. A crease extended down the length of his servant's forehead, then he stood and left the room.

"Blimey," Rose said. "It's like a different place when you're here, innit?"

Victor suddenly felt aware of the warmth of her arm looped around his. Perhaps escorting her wasn't the best strategy, not with rumors about. Who could have started such rumors anyway? Could it have been the shadewalker himself watching in the shadows last night? And why didn't anyone bring him breakfast? Did they think that Rose and he …

A petite server bowed and led them to his designated table. A low chandelier scattered splinters of light along the dinnerware. As he sat, he spotted a familiar red tassel behind a glass case on the wall. Good, the broadsword from Starfall had found a home.

The server struggled to open a wine bottle, her ruddy skin whitening at the knuckles. With a loud pop, she twisted off the cork. She poured for them both, the color returning to her bony cheeks, then bowed again and left.

Rose tapped her nails against her crystal flute. "Don't you ever get tired of having everyone be afraid of you?"

He sipped his drink. "Not at all."

"Hmph." She stared just over his shoulder. "What's with all the weapons?"

"Like I said, if it's the best, I have it."

"But they don't do anything up there. All they do is sit."

He readjusted himself in his seat. "Yes, well some things are meant to be enjoyed from afar."

Rose gave him that you-mad-time-lord look again. "Why not just let people keep their things if you don't even use them?"

A commotion at the entrance stopped the music. Ayaliah stumbled into the chamber, Chan Coi 'Thet behind her. Sikah hurried past them both.

"My Lord," Sikah said in a hushed tone, "you ordered me to alert you at the first sign of rumor or doubt. Princesss Ayaliah has spread gossip that you cannot be Victor, that you have deceived us all, and that you and the girl are working in collusion to take his place."

What madness was this? He glared at Ayaliah's form stretched in front of him, her palms flat against the marble tile. "Explain yourself!"

Her pale blue arms shook under her weight. "I did no such thing, my Lord," she said to the floor. "I only stated what I saw."

Something told him he'd found his servant in the shadows. "Which was?"

"The girl, my Lord, she spoke with such boldness in the atrium, and yet you did not scold her. Then I saw you together on the balcony—"

Heat flared across his scalp, spreading to the tips of his ears. "You dare spy on your Master?"

"I—I was tasked with caring for the girl. I meant no disrespect, my Lord. I did not wish to disturb you."

"What did you tell the others?" he shouted.

She flinched. "Only that it was curious you changed a day before the girl arrived, a girl whom with you shared a passionate kiss and kept in your control room all night. And that Victor is not your true name. I didn't make the conclusions that Sikah has claimed, I swear. I only told them what I saw. Others made their own conclusions."

He looked out at the room. Servants watched the scene, but dared not look him in the eye. "And now they take me for an imposter." His chair scraped against the floor as he stood. Several people jumped. "If I weren't the same man, how would I know that I stole you from the arms of your guard? That you didn't shed one tear when I killed your fiance, your king-to-be, but that you begged me not to harm your secret lover?" He thrust a finger toward the crowd. "Tell them whether or not this is true."

She trembled, nodded, and buried her face in her hands. "It is."

He broadened his stance and spoke to the room. "I am the same man, now and forever. I am the Time Lord Victorious!" He glanced down at the figure cowered on the floor. "And you, princess, have voided our arrangement."

Ayaliah either shook her head or trembled. "No, no I beg of you. He had no part in this. Please!"

"Let's see how the Sideus System fares against the destroyer of worlds."

The woman grabbed at his feet, but Chan Coi 'Thet yanked her back by her long braid, a sneer on his maw. She sobbed. "K-kill me instead! P-please, let my people b-be."

"You are hereby sentenced to the colosseum. Sikah, prepare the fleet."

Ayaliah wailed as 'Thet dragged her across the floor, too emotional to even stand. Pathetic.

"Stop," Rose said.

Gasps multiplied around the hall. 'Thet halted. Ayaliah whimpered into the floor.

He unleashed a glare that could have unraveled empires. "Don't," he said to Rose. With one word, he offered her more mercy than he'd ever granted before, and those watching knew it.

Rose frowned. She stood and the hem of her golden gown spilled to the floor. "You don't have to do this."

"Oh, but I do. And if you value your life, you won't interfere. You'll be granted no further abeyance." He felt the weight of his laser against his chest, a heaviness not there before.

Rose took two steps forward, that steady gaze of hers somehow pushing and pulling in equal measure."You don't have to make an example of her. We all know what you're capable of."

His hand twitched, but refused to act. "And what of bowing to the request of my consort? How would that look for my authority?"

"Consort?" Her brow wrinkled. "Is that what you think of me?"

From the corners of his vision, he could see that his servants had regained their ability to stare at him; they waited for his reply as surely as Rose—waited to see if the rumors were true. "Yes, nothing more." Even as the words formed, something in the back of his mind hissed 'liar'.

No, they hadn't slept together, but the damage was done. Image was everything. A consort he could have. A lover, no.

He strutted forward and reached for his screwdriver, chin in the air. "But if Ayaliah seeks death and you wish to grant her request"—a beam shattered the glass case and he pulled the Terileptilian sword from the mount on the wall—"then you be her harbinger of relief. Kill her yourself and I will spare her world. Show us just how merciful you are." He extended the handle. "Weren't you just complaining my weapons weren't getting enough use?"

Rose took the sword from his grasp and wielded it, threads of deep red dangling at her wrist. She considered for a moment, then her mouth stretched into a grin more cunning than sweet. "I have a better idea. A proposal, Time Lord."

He narrowed his eyes. "You have nothing to offer me that isn't already mine."

"Is that so?" Rose sauntered to the side, her golden train dragging behind her like trailing vortex energy. "Well, if I mean nothing to you, then you should have no problem if I wager my life on behalf of Ayaliah's in the colosseum. By your own laws, it's the only place a life may be traded for another." She raised the weapon to the throat of the proud Chula warrior who stood over the prone woman. "Put me in the ring with this one tonight."

Chan Coi 'Thet gritted his jagged teeth and let out a low growl, but Rose stood unfazed.

"If I best him," Rose said, "then Ayaliah is granted full pardon and sent home. Her world is spared, no gotchas. If I lose …" She shrugged and hoisted the sword over her shoulder. "Well then, you'll be rid of that pesky consort who dared challenge your authority and you'll get a marvelous show. Two for one. I've heard how much you enjoy blood."

"If you recall," he said with a sidelong glare, "you are forbidden from engaging in such activities."

"Actually, you said I couldn't spar. You said nothing about challenging."

He clapped his teeth shut. "You're no match for him. You'd be slaughtered."

"My problem." She rested the tip of the sword against the floor, hands perched atop the handle.

Idiot girl. If he denied her this fight, he would be forced to make an example of her and vaporize her right then and there. If he allowed her the match, she stood no chance. Either way, Rose was dead.

His stomach coiled in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. "Fine!" he shouted as he stormed from the hall. "And when you get butchered, be it on your own head."