So, uni this year is FINISHED! Christ, what an insane semester/year that was. More so than last year in some ways.

If you haven't already, watch the "Night And The Doctor" shorts. Very, very good, some important things touched upon (about bloody time they mentioned the Library again) and lovely character interaction. "Good Night" deserves a special mention. It's a shame I won't be able to replicate it here – that sort of Amy/Doctor interaction relies on the best-friend relationship of S6, which I've obviously ditched by necessity.

Just a word on length. I know that as a general rule, the stop-start way that stories are updated here usually means longer is better, but I want this story to read properly as a whole (which probably doesn't apply to the first five chapters or so, I admit). That means pacing is a genuinely big concern of mine, as is making sure chapters end at sensible points. That's my main two issues w.r.t. chapter length.

CHAPTER 27. A Reckless And Impulsive Girl: 22 March 2011

The moment Rory closed the door and left her life again, Amy put the diary in the pouch at the side of the wheelchair out of her mind. She had already made her mind up that it would remain unopened if she had anything to do with it. She rotated the wheelchair and headed back towards into the time machine. "So you lot done in there? We good to go yet?" She moved through the doorway and into the console room, stopping just past the entrance, her eyes transfixed on a blonde-haired girl lounging nonchalantly on a chair.

"Um." The computerised voice stripped much of the beauty of her second language, but there was no doubting her meaning, or the sharpness of her tone.

"Yes, Pond?" The Doctor queried from beneath the console, still busy at work.

"Explain. Now."

"Ah, yes, um, I didn't just promise to go back today, I promised to pick them up."

"And you were planning to mention this to me... when?" An ominous rumble was building in the psychic field, one of the few things that could quicken the Doctor's double-pulse without fail.

"In about twenty seconds."

"I'm in a generous mood," she told him, despite feeling anything but. "I'll give you three guesses what I'm going to say."

He gulped. "Thank you for fixing the lift?"

"Strike one. Although cheers if you have."

"Wasn't it lovely that we got to-"

"Strike two."

He sighed. "Amy, really, I keep my promises. I told you – I'm not the jealous or the easily distracted type."

"Funny, last I checked your attention span was an average of four seconds."

Even at this awkward juncture, he managed to look affronted. "Seven. At a minimum."

"OK, sorry to butt in," Katherine interjected, "but do you two mind talking in English for the benefit of the rest of us?"

"Shush, Katherine. Not a good moment."

"It's Kate now, by the way. Or Kat."

Amy ignored her. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't knock her out and drag her out of the TARDIS right now."

"One, you can't."

"Wanna bet?"

"Not really. Two, this was only ever a temporary arrangement – at this time, there are two Katherine Broads running around, within a few hundred miles of each other – temporal paradox fuel if there ever was one."

Amy paused at this as she moved onto the lift. "Okay. Fair point. So I'll knock her out and leave her in the middle of Africa or something.

"Amy..."

"Seriously, Doctor. Not having it. Do you seriously think that she can just walk in here and – what the hell was that?"

A deep, reverberating gong-like noise had reverberated around the room. A jolt ran up the Doctor's spine, his eyes widening in horror. Katherine – or Kate, rather – straightened, her brow furrowed.

"Er – what was that noise?"

"It sounds... like something I heard back when I was a kid," Amy mused, her contempt of the blonde briefly forgotten as the memory stirred itself - of engines phasing and a raggedy man rushing back to his police box wearing a horrified expression on his face.

The same man who now was rushing up to the console with the exact same expression, spluttering noises of disbelief.

"Jack! Close the door!" He yelled at the immortal, who instantly executed the order. Another deep gonging reverberation rang through the console room. "Come on, dear, what's the matter with you?" He began pumping a lever, drawing a pained wheezing noise from the time machine in response. "Easy now, it's just boring old Leadworth, nothing to be afraid of."

Evidently the time machine disagreed, because an explosion of sparks cascaded from the console, causing the Doctor to recoil in alarm. An almighty groan wound its way from the central column and the entire room lurched violently sideways, knocking everyone to the ground.

"Right. That was strange," Kate declared, picking herself off the glass floor where she'd been thrown off the chair. "What the hell just happened? We still in Leadworth?"

"Emergency dematerialisation," the Doctor told her, clambering to his feet. "The TARDIS detected something nasty, self-phased and ran away to a random point in time and space."

"That's... that's bad, isn't it?"

"Yes. But we should be fine now."

"Wait... isn't Rory still-"

"Chances are he's fine, the TARDIS only reacts to nasty temporal events, not alien invasions – she loves those. Temporal events like, for example, paradoxes." He studied the blonde carefully. "Did you, by any chance, arrive in Leadworth on the 1st of September?"

She shook her head. "No. Didn't go back to Leadworth once after I left in late '09. Why?"

He frowned, turning to inspect the console. "Hmm. Strange." Why would she pack up and go like that...

"Ahem," an electronic, vaguely Scottish accented voice called out from the lift, which had paused operation halfway between two levels.

"Yes, Pond?" He replied, still distracted by the console.

"If you're quite finished."

He turned to see her sprawled across the lift, immobile, in front of her wheelchair, her head turned upwards and giving him the mother of all death glares. He spluttered a hasty apology and leaped downwards to place her back in the wheelchair, stroking the hair carefully out of her indignant eyes as he did so.

"Sorry, Amy. Should have noticed."

"Don't do it again, dolt."

"I intend not to," he murmured, giving her a brief kiss on the forehead by way of atonement. "Now I have to find out what's going on. Give us a mo."

He clambered back up to the console, inspecting it closely. "OK, so, no major damage, all flight surfaces intact, so we should be OK to go." He typed in a deep-space destination, being aware of the inherent dangers that could await them, the TARDIS having fled to a random point in time and space. He pulled down the flight lever to set the machine sailing into the Time Vortex again.

And watched, stunned, as the lights in the TARDIS flickered and died, plunging the foursome into darkness.

No. Oh no no no. Bad bad bad.

"What the hell just happened?" Kate asked quietly as the Doctor span around the console, randomly flicking levers and twiddling dials. He slammed his palm down on a large button and the TARDIS hummed, the lights flickering back to life.

"So that's it? We OK?" Jack had reached the console. The Doctor's back was turned to him, meaning he couldn't see the horror in the eyes of both the Time Lord and Lady, who were both well aware that his little sequence of commands had simply diverted the power supply to the secondary generators – they were still more or less stuck in a dead time machine.

"Something drained the primary power supply," he informed him grimly, his jaw set. "Not a drop of juice left. I've got rid of the cinema and bowling alley, which gives us enough backup power to the lights and lifts, but we don't have enough juice in the tanks to move the TARDIS one foot, let alone go anywhere in time."

Kate's jaw hit the floor. "Wait, so we're stuck, and we have no clue where?"

"Basically."

The twittering of birdsong filled the crisp forest air, melodic and enticing. The gentle trickling of the stream was the only other noise present, a image of tranquillity and peace all-too-rare in this place. Towering above were several dark, snow-capped peaks beneath a blue-red sky, the earliest rays of sunlight glinting a purple-white hue across their tops. The forest at their feet was one of the few genuinely protected sanctuaries left in this place, for the sudden population explosion had meant that space was starting to run a little thin – soon, people would have to have their land allocations reduced by ten percent to a mere two hectares each, something which was unthinkable just a few years previously. So everyone, rather than spreading upwards as was the norm on almost every known planet, they spread sideways, filling up every nook and cranny of available space.

Unfortunately, that meant intruding on some of the pristine forest created decades before, leaving only a few pockets of peace, untouched by human hands. Luckily, this was one, but only by necessity, the result of the Phi Forest being barred from all access. The stunning tranquillity of the stream-bank in the forest was hence all the more special for there being no one to witness it.

Until, of course, the doors of a police box which had perched itself on the embankment swung open and a man in a bow-tie, hands drawn cautiously to his chest, stepped out.

"Not deep space! That's a stroke of luck. Air is breathable, also a good sign. Actually, not just breathable." He took a deep, invigorating breath of the clean, dewy air. "Ah, that's better. Amazing stuff, clean air, don't often see it. Or breathe it, to be accurate."

"Looks like an ordinary forest," Kate commented as she followed the Time Lord outside along with Jack, who was bemusedly inspecting his vortex manipulator, which had also seemingly decided to absent itself from the realm of the working.

"It does, doesn't it?"

"So we've just ended up somewhere else on Earth?"

"Oh, goodness, no. We're definitely not on Earth, in fact, we're not within ten thousand light years of Earth."

"How d'you know that? Isn't the scanner inactive?" Amy asked from just inside, apprehensive about heading out onto an unknown planet – or, more immediately, onto ground that may or may not be entirely flat.

"Because I've been to every habitable planet, moon, space station and space-truck stop within ten thousand light years of Earth, and this isn't one of them. Doesn't smell right."

"So we've landed on some random planet that we can't get off and you have absolutely no idea where or when it is."

"Basically."

A computerised groan. "You're bloody inspirational, ya know that?"

"Thank you. I try."

"I'm guessing that whatever drained the TARDIS engines is whatever's broken my vortex manipulator," Jack surmised, gingerly prodding the now-useless device.

"Did it really? Interesting. Anyway, I vote we follow this river somewhere, try to find out more about this place."

"Erm – not to be a spoilsport or anything," Jack began, "but we've got no idea how far away it is. Not to mention Amy can't deal with rocky, uneven ground at the moment."

"All very true, which is why Amy's not going with us."

"What?" Amy cut in. "Why not? I can deal with some uneven ground."

"No, Amy. You're in no fit shape to deal with anything, and we have absolutely no idea what's out there."

"Looks peaceful enough," she pointed out.

"Haven't you been around long enough to know 'looking peaceful' means precisely nothing?"

"I don't care. Wherever you go, I go."

"Not this time. We don't discuss these things, Amy – I say, you do."

"Doctor-"

He turned to face her, his piercing blue eyes meeting her wild green. "Amelia, no."

She opened her mouth to protest further, but a twinkle of the half-indoors-half-outdoors light in the Time Lord's eye caught her attention. The merest flicker, but she could see a reflection of lives loved and lost, crumbling in his hands and leaving only despair in its wake. All the pain and the love it had brought...

"Alright. Fine. I'll stay. But who's staying behind, then? I still can't do that much by myself," she pointed out – although feeling was starting to return to her arms again.

The Doctor pondered this for a moment, placing a finger on his lips. After a few seconds he reached his decision with a click of her fingers. "Kathe-Kate, rather. You're up," he told the blonde, pointing at her.

"What?" Both girls exclaimed, Kate's blank shock only matched by the abject horror in Amy's eyes.

"Don't be so alarmed. I'm sure you'll two will get along swimmingly whilst Jack and I are gone."

"Why couldn't Jack stay?" Amy demanded, even more appalled by the arrangement. Kate made a noise indicating her seconding of the question, although for very different reasons – babysitting had not been on her agenda as part of TARDIS life.

"As I said, we don't know what's out there. Jack's got more experience, he'll be able to deal with whatever comes out. You, though, you've hardly been around. Even Amy probably would be cut out for this if she were fit and well, we kind of need to be stealthy-stealthy."

"What are you trying to say, that I'm too noisy?"

"Well... Stroyet. Enra Prime. And that incident with the possessed garbage cans in Manchester. Twice."

"That was your fault!"

"Not the second and third times it wasn't."

Amy narrowed her eyes, pouting slightly. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"I still don't like this plan either," Kate declared. "Doesn't sound like romping around time and space, really."

"Katherine, I'm sorry, but I need you to do this. As a favour for Amy, and for me. She needs someone here to help her and take of her, and I have no idea how long we'll be gone. We could be days. And besides," he smiled gently at her. "You said you wanted a chance to make it up to Amy, and say sorry. Here it is. So can you do this? For us?"

Amy was on the verge of saying that she really didn't need her help, thanks very much, but the Doctor silenced her with a glance, sensing what she was about to say. Amelia, please go along with this. It's important.

Kate sighed. "Alright. Fine. I'll go make tea or something." She turned with a huff and headed back towards the TARDIS interior. "Oh, and Amy, I hope you like spag-bol, because that's what I'm making for dinner," she called out behind her back, her sharp, clear tones echoing through the corridors.

The Doctor shook his head, chuckling, as he headed back inside to grab the materials they needed for their expedition. Minutes later, he returned with two large backpacks filled with food, spare clothing, two sleeping bags and a dimensionally-transcendental tent that he'd received for his 413th (or had it been his 314th?) birthday. "So you OK? Won't try and rip up the TARDIS while I'm gone?" He asked as he heaved one large pack into Jack's arms.

"I can't make any guarantees," Amy grumbled. "I still don't like this idea at all,"

"I know. But you should try. Besides," he curled his lip and leaned in front of her a whisper, moving back inside. "You might find she's more like you than you thought."

There was no mistaking the surge of horror that shot through Amy's eyes. "Gee, thanks. Excuse me while I go vomit."

The Time Lord let out a great booming laugh as he threw the oversized bag onto his back, ruffling her vivid crimson hair. "Don't worry about us while we're gone. We can take care of ourselves. And if you need to contact me – or vice versa – you know how."

"Fine." She bit her bottom lip, nestling between her teeth, before ordering the wheelchair to roll forward, straight into the Time Lord's knees. He collapsed with a yelp – right into her lap, just as she'd planned. Before he could react further, she had leaned forward and planted the deepest, most passionate kiss she could on his mouth. His initial shock passing, he placed his palm on the back of her head, pulling her in to deepen the kiss still further. It was messy and frankly not very good owing to Amy's lack of fine muscular control but that was completely beside the point.

It took almost a minute, and a very loud hiccough from the smirking Jack Harkness before they finally broke apart.

"Now go," Amy told him via the computerised voice, her eyes misty as she took in the sharp contours of his familiar face as if it was the last time she'd see them. "Go do whatever it is you do."

"That's the plan, Pond." He pressed his lips briefly to her forehead before turning on his heel, his tweed coat leaving a cool draft in his wake. He flashed one more lopsided grin at the girl who owned both his hearts before closing the doors before her.

"So if you need someone else to snog, I'm always willing and able," Jack remarked as they set off down the embankment, following the flow of the stream, still with an infuriating smirk painted onto his face.

"Oh, shut it."

Amy sat, immobile, eyes fixed on where the Doctor's face had once been. Gazing at the piece of wood separating her from the outside world – from him. He'd barely been gone five minutes and already she could feel a dreadful, sickening emptiness creep through her once again. Barely five minutes and she was missing him more than she could ever have imagined.

Is this your way of reminding me I'm in love with him? She asked the world at large.

Instantly, she berated herself for being so down – that wasn't her style at all. She was Amy Pond, funny, happy, cheerful, relentlessly optimistic.

But it was becoming harder to remain optimistic when the universe seemed to be endlessly plotting against her. Taking her parents from her in still mysterious circumstances when she was just a small child. Giving her the promise of all of time and space at age seven, before snatching it away for twelve – or, more accurately, fourteen – years. Then being denied anything approaching a normal life, or even a normal death, for all eternity, and enforcing a break-up with the man she'd once hoped to marry. And worst of all, those two weeks one April, almost seven years ago now...

Yeah, but look what I've got in return. All of time and space, all of the perks that come with being a Time Lady – and him. Most of all, him. He makes it all worthwhile.

Or, at least, he would, when he returned. When he returned. Not if. Because of course he'd return. He was the Doctor.

All she had to do was wait. Again. Becoming very sick of waiting...

She twitched her head as if trying to shake it before turning the wheelchair in a half circle and heading within. The shadow of a scowl found its way to her lips when she remembered that she wasn't actually alone, and that she'd be spending probably several days being babysat by the last person she'd ever pick to perform that duty.

Brilliant.

"You know, we should really do this more often. You, me, forest hike," Jack commented.

"Don't go scheming now, Captain Harkness."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied airily as they rounded another embankment, using hands and legs to pull themselves up a stony rock-face. "So where do you think we are?" Having felt that he'd teased the Time Lord enough, he decided to go into business mode – anything that could drain a vortex manipulator was worthy of his full attention.

"In a forest, obviously."

"Apart from that."

"Dunno. All I know is that there's something big and nasty that's not meant to be here, which is why the TARDIS's drained and why your manipulator doesn't work."

"Such as?"

"No idea. But big enough to play havoc with a TARDIS. Anything able to do that is big, scary big."

"And presumably protected," Jack pointed out, military instinct coming to the fore.

"Probably."

"So if we don't make it out?"

"Amy knows how to fly the TARDIS. So long as we can at least disable the effect, they'll escape," he told the former Time Agent matter-of-factly. "But I'd rather not let it come to that."

"Sounds like a plan."

They continued on beside the stream, meeting no one along the way. They heard nothing but the same twittering of birds, the same gentle tinkling of the water rushing over the pebble stones, saw only the same green-gold foliage of the forest trees, saw... the same rocky embankment?

He shuddered to a halt, dragged out of his own little world, noticing for the first time just how similar this portion of the stream looked to one they'd passed ten minutes before. Which had looked similar to one they'd passed ten minutes before that. Not similar, in fact.

Identical.

"Doctor," he called out behind the Time Lord, intuition of edge as a result from the repetition of setting, "is it just me, or have we been here before?"

"We have, haven't we?" The Doctor withdrew his sonic from his tweed jacket, twirling on the spot as he scanned his general surroundings. He cocked his wrist to read the surroundings. "Ah. That would explain it."

"Explain what?"

"This forest. It's artificial. These aren't even trees, I'm betting, they're oxygen machines." He leaped over to the nearest willow, running his sonic over it.

"Um – are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Good ideas are overrated," he replied, continuing to weave complex patterns in the air around the 'tree'. Eventually, a hissing of steam jets escaped from the midsection of the tree, and a section of bark swung open to reveal a soft blue light coming from within. Whatever it was, it was blatantly artificial. "Can you help me get this panel off?"

Together, they lifted the several-square-foot of bark-covered metal off the tree and onto the ground. Inside were several clear tubes, illuminated by that same aquamarine light they'd first witnessed upon its opening. There was a marking on the central column – a circle and a vertical line. The line started above the circle, running straight through its centre and extending past the bottom.

"Interesting," the Doctor murmured, running one tube along his fingers. He looked deeper into the tree, craning his neck within.

"'Earthsphere'," Jack read aloud, inspecting another tube in his hands, not noticing the creases forming on the Doctor's brow as the Time Lord scanned the interior with his sonic. "What the hell is that?"

Before he could pursue his question further, however, the unmistakable blaring of alarms filled the air, replacing the birdsong. The Doctor pulled his head out of the tree in a flash, turning to move away from it – only to find an invisible wall blocking his path. A gold-red glow surrounded both men – as sure a sign of a force field as either had ever seen.

The Doctor groaned. "So much for stealthy-stealthy."

To Amy's delight, the return of feeling in both her arms and shoulders was no illusion, and they were at last beginning to respond to her commands again. Her face, too, was beginning to behave normally – she could smile, laugh, frown, pout as per usual again.

However, the nerve endings were dull and her muscles highly atrophied from extended lack of usage, so whilst she she had full range of motion and could properly move her arms – very, very, very slowly – she didn't have anything like the strength to actually do anything useful yet. Just trying to lift her sonic five inches above the armrest had been right at her limits. On past experience, however, she had expected this, and at the moment she was just bursting with joy that she was regaining this basic skill. She could feel strength returning with every flex, so she was confident that the issue would be solved in short order.

Just walking and talking left, then. And the talking was beginning to come on nicely as well, as she was finding out now in the library, practising reading some basic English and Gallifreyean literature out loud. It was a slow, painstaking process, managing barely a sentence a minute as she struggled to roll her tongue over anything multi-syllable. It took her several attempts to get through 'incredible', the second syllable giving her immense difficulty. She was, however, persistent, so she got it out. Eventually.

Teaching herself to speak also provided a distraction from the immense boredom creeping through her. But creep it did, and she eventually found herself drifting off into her own little world, staring blankly into the still waters of the pool whilst she daydreamed of the Doctor, and the alien world he was in the middle of exploring. An hour or two of this later, however, a different emotion had washed through her – a sudden, crippling fear, that an unexpected ill had befallen her lover.

He's in trouble. I just know it.

Her intuition, always her most powerful driver, screamed at her to get out and try and assist him. Unfortunately, her state left her less than capable of doing so.

Damn this bloody wheelchair. Can't go anywhere with it...

Although...

Now that I think about it, I've never actually tried going anywhere, have I? Thing looks pretty souped-up, should be able to handle some grass and rocks.

An idea, born from the reckless, impulsive centre within her, grew in her mind.

Why not? It looked harmless enough based on what I saw, and besides, I can handle myself.

Can you? A tiny, much more rational voice asked from within her. Remember what you promised the Doctor? Weren't you supposed to be waiting for him?

Unexpectedly, she found her resolve hardening, a cold, thick crust forming around it. Without his direct presence, the care in his sky-blue eyes there to nullify it, there was no chance of stopping her. I'm a big girl. I don't need anyone to protect me. He needs help. I'm doing this for him, she affirmed.

Although I will need someone to carry food.

She smothered the dissenting voice and turned to roll her way out of the library.

Katherine Olivia Broad was in a bad mood.

A seriously, seriously bad mood. Muttering-to-herself bad. Don't-get-on-my-wrong-side-or-I'll-flatten-your-nose bad. Too-distracted-to-notice-smoke-pouring-out-of-a-pot bad.

Which, unfortunately, was exactly what had happened as she drifted off, angrily chuntering about being trapped inside a bloody phone box when a whole different world – and a very enticing world at that – lay just beyond. But no, she had to stay here and goddamn babysit a twenty-two year old alien. So it was little surprise that she didn't notice the burning sauce until a pungent, acrid stench began to fill the air.

She leaped over to turn off the heat – but it was too late. There was no way anyone could eat this stuff. Cursing so viciously that it would make even the most foul-mouthed street urchin blush, she stomped to the pantry and hauled out the ingredients she'd need to make the sauce again, slamming pots onto the kitchen bench with an almighty clang.

The last thing she needed was some Scottish-accented snark.

"Nice work on the sauce, Broad," she heard an electronic voice call from behind her. "Always wondered what eating out of a fireplace would taste like."

Oh, for...

"Language, Broad," Amy rebuked from the wheelchair once Kate had shouted her little piece, a smirk planted across the Time Lady's face and her eyes sparkling. "Now put that stuff away, you won't need it."

A millimetre's raise of an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Got an idea."

This time, both eyebrows shot into her thick blonde fringe. "And you're telling me this, why?"

"Need you on board. Out of necessity only, I assure you."

She crossed her arms, both suspicious – since when did Amy Pond ask her to join her with anything – and curious. "Alright. Shoot." Whatever she had in mind was definitely bound to be interesting.

It was.

"You sure that's a good idea?" She asked when Amy had finished, her eyebrows still buried deep in her hairline.

"Explain to me why it isn't."

Kate couldn't, as Amy had expected. But...

"The Doctor won't like this one bit."

"What he doesn't know can't hurt him."

"Wow, what a wonderful girlfriend you are."

"You're well aware that I'm not an ordinary girl." Kate was – she'd often told her as such many years back, although in far less kind a manner. Amy always had a sharp response at hand, though. "Nor human, for that matter. So you in or not?"

It was tempting, very, very tempting. Amy was pushing all the right buttons, prodding her restless hunger for what TARDIS life truly offered. But yet, yet...

"I don't know, Amy... the Doctor doesn't think this is a good idea. In fact he told you not to."

"What's got into you, Broad?" Amy demanded sharply. "You wanted to explore all of time and space, that's why you're here. That's all we're doing – exploring. So what's the problem? You chickening out?"

Just as they both knew it would, the goad shattered Kate's final layers of reluctance. "Fine. So what's the plan?"

"I need you to carry food, sleeping bags and stuff, enough for a few days. This wheelchair isn't big enough to carry all that much; besides, it probably won't be able to move if I overload it."

"Alright. Where can I find all this stuff?"

Amy's alien brain had already raced ahead, and she'd telepathically organised the necessary materials whilst making her way from the library to the kitchen. "I told the TARDIS to chuck it all in one room. Take a left, then third door on your right. Meet me in the console room once you've got it all."

Twenty minutes later, Kate had collected a week's worth of food, a suspiciously alien-looking tent and two sleeping bags. She had absolutely no idea how this would fit into one large camping backpack and one small rucksack, but it did – she suspected some bigger-on-the-inside trickery at play. Evidently there was also some other kind of technological mystery at work, because what should have been about thirty kilograms' worth of weight turned out to be about three.

She marched into the console room, finding Amy waiting in the wheelchair by the door. She was holding a cylindrical, metallic implement loosely in one hand, a blood-red crystal affixed to its end.

"What's that thing?"

"Sonic screwdriver."

"Right. Like your sonic phone?"

"Sort of."

"What does that thing even do, anyway?"

"It sonics stuff."

"Gee, thanks for the detailed explanation."

"You gonna be like this all day, Broad?"

"Don't see why not."

Amy groaned, which inevitably drew a smirk. "Hey, this was your idea in the first place."

"Don't remind me," Amy grumbled, as Kate tied the smaller rucksack around the back of the wheelchair. "So you've got everything? Food, tent, sleeping bag-?"

"Clothing, toothbrush, make-up, the works. Oh, and this." She pulled out a polished, obsidian black metal object. It's cylindrical barrel marked it unmistakably as one of Jack's electron blasters.

Amy's eyes widened slightly upon seeing the weapon. "Where the hell did you find that?" The Doctor had categorically banned Jack from bringing weapons aboard the TARDIS.

"Men, they think they're so good at hiding stuff, but really. Probably because they're no good at finding anything."

"Very true. You sure you can use it?"

"Aim and shoot, right? Can't be too hard." Katherine replied casually as she holstered the firearm (having also pinched one of Jack's spare weapon belts).

Amy, unlike the Doctor, had no moral objection to guns at all, having long since dealt with her misgivings about her actions aboard that spaceship last October. But if Broad's going to bring one along, she has to be sure she knows what she's doing. "You know what... what I meant," she said, using her own mouth, her own voice, slowly, slurred.

Kate's eyes widened to saucers. "You can talk again?"

"A lit.. a little," Amy told her, taking two attempts to get the word out. "So...?"

Kate hesitated, only just now considering the potential consequences of the gun's usage. "If I have to, I will."

Amy searched the blonde's face carefully. Now that she thought about it, the Doctor had a point – she could see a hell of a lot of herself in Broad's hazel eyes. That was how she knew she could convince her by saying the right things, pressing the right buttons. Katherine had always been a reckless and impulsive girl – just like her. At times the similarity was deeply disconcerting, but right now it counted as a good thing – she knew how the human girl would react to certain situations. Or, at least, she suspected. "You abso... solutely sure?"

"Again – if I have to, I will. Why, what about you?" Kate added, curiosity overriding her good sense.

"If you're asking if I've ever pulled the trigger on someone," Amy answered using the electronic speaker once again, her tone as icy and imposing as Antarctic icebergs, "The answer is yes, I have. At point blank range."

Kate could have sworn that her body temperature had halved at that point, so deep was the chill that ran down her spine. "Right. I won't ask about the details."

"Good plan. So we ready?"

"Yep. Let's roll."

Amy turned to face the police box doors. With a click, they opened of their own accord, revealing the pristine forest awaiting them. One after the other, the two girls from Leadworth moved outside into the sweet forest air of the unknown world.

To paraphase Moffat: Bad girls in the TARDIS. Or not in the TARDIS, to be precise.

If you're wondering about Kate's middle name, there's no deeper meaning behind it – I chose it because I felt it runs off the tongue (as does Amelia Jessica Pond) – lovely vowel/consonant and syllable flow.

The shortening of her name has been planned from the moment I first envisaged the character - her original name was actually Kate.