"So, about this resistance thing. What do you think they mean?" Clara's brown eyes seemed to burn holes into the side of the Doctor's head. He turned away, embarrassed. "Oh, come on, I can tell that you know what's going on. It can't be that bad." The Doctor looked uncomfortable.
"Well, it kind of, in a way, sort of is that bad, and I don't want to worry you."
"Come on, Doctor! Nothing could worry me as much as seeing you worried." She studied him, then her face fell. "Which you are. So, okay, I'm worried now. But you might as well tell me, right? I'm already worried."
"Fine. But don't blame me when you become chronically depressed." With a look from Clara, he sighed.
"Okay. The Resistance is a group of all my enemies that wish to see me dead and gone. They include the Nazdac Kurudu, the Cybermen, the Daleks, the Great Intelligence, the Weeping Angels, the Silence, and the Sontarans. I'm afraid they'll do anything to stop me." There was a moment of shocked silence, and all Clara could manage was a weak reply.
"Oh."
The two sat in the sitting room of Vastra and Jenny, cups of cold tea in their hands. The Doctor, if possible, looked even more uncomfortable than he did before. At last the door burst open and Strax entered, followed by Jenny and Vastra.
"Good luck, Doctor. And Clara. We wish you the best. And if you need anything, just call. We'll make sure the last of the Kurudu are out of the city."
"Thank you as always, good friends. We'll be off now."
In the TARDIS once more, Clara spoke. "Doctor, what did she mean? Where are we going?"
"What? Where are we... oh! We need to drop by an old friend's place for some help. It'll be a quick trip, promise. You can even stay in the TARDIS if you want."
"No, I want to come with you. It can hardly be safe out there by yourself, with a dozen different alien races after you. Hold on a second, I need to use the loo." She took a step backwards, and suddenly the whole ship lurched. Clara fell to the floor, crying out.
"Sorry about that. Sexy... she always has trouble landing here." Clara got up and grinned.
"There it is again. It's not just me, you do call her sexy. Again proving the point that this is a snog box!"
"Just...you...just shut up and come on!"
"I still need to go to the bathroom, you know."
"It'll have to wait." Suddenly his tone became gentler. "Hello," he said softly, not to Clara but to a small girl standing outside the TARDIS.
Clara stopped in her tracks. The girl seemed familiar somehow, but she was certain she had seen her somewhere before.
Her hair was short and brown; she was very small and very pale. It was then that both of them noticed that something was wrong. The child couldn't have been more than three years old, but she was cold and dirty and all alone. No one would leave their child alone outside unless something was wrong.
"Hi," replied the little girl in a tone barely audible.
"Hello," said Clara, squatting down so she was at eye level with the girl. "My name's Clara, and he's the doctor. You must be very cold out here by yourself." The girl nodded and stepped forward.
"Yes, it is vewy cold and wonewy out hew. And at night it's scawy."
"How would you like it," said Clara, with a glance at the Doctor. "If you came and stayed with us for a while?"
"I would wike dat a wot." The girl shyly walked forward until she was right at the doctor's feet. "You have a funny chin, Mr. Doctor man."
"I do not have a funny chin! And my name is the Doctor, not Mr. Doctor Man" he huffed indignantly. He took off his jacket wrapped her up in it. Clara picked her up.
"I like her," said Clara, laughing. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"No."
"Ooo, Clara. I forgot to tell you before. My friend, the one we're going to see, well, she kind of tried to behead me once. But he's a really great guy."
"Hang on...how does that work? You just said she, then he. Is it a boy or a girl?"
"Both! Or neither. I'm not really sure. It's a happy medium."
"Oh no."
"We're in New York City, 20th century, don't know exactly when."
The Doctor suddenly stopped. "Only, I don't quite remember where the medium lives. Let me ask this nice couple." He ran up to two people walking down the street. "Excuse me, but can you tell me where the Medium lives?" The woman looked up in surprise.
"Doctor?" For it was none other than Amy Pond and her husband Rory.