Chapter 3 -- Beer And Conversation

They weren't hard to find again. He had sworn he would watch her, and he would. They were living in London. Tommy Ronson and daughter.

She was getting off of school the next time her saw her, walking along in her little uniform. The other girls walked in clusters. She walked alone, he noticed, in her own little world, her face serious, but her eyes dreaming. The small gold cross still glittered around her throat.

He saw the instant little Kyra's eyes landed on him. Her face lit, and she bolted up the street. "Doctor!"

"Little Kyra!"

She dropped her books and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "You came back!"

"'Course I did. Said I'd check up, didn't I?"

She smiled up at him. "Yeah." She bent to retrieve her books.

"Oooh, Kyra's got a boyfriend!" one boy hollered from across the street.

Kyra gave him a sly look. "What's wrong, Brandon? Jealous 'cause he's better-lookin' than yours?"

"Kyra Roarke!"

"Little twit," she said. "He's a complete prat, he is."

"Well, I'd say you handled that admirably well." He tucked his hands into his pockets and walked with her. "And what will you tell those obnoxious little cretins tomorrow, when they tease you about your new boyfriend?"

"That if they can't tell the difference between boyfriend and godfather than they need their bloody eyes checked."

"Godfather, am I?"

"Gotta say somethin', don't I?" she asked dryly. "They won't believe my pal from outer space, now will they?"

"Outer space? Where do you hear these things?"

She drew a book out of her bag. "I have access to the Watcher's Council libraries, seein' as I'm a Potential. They wanted to do my schoolin', but they weren't locking me up in some Council strongroom, thank you. But they let me read. I've been readin' about you. Taken me about a year. Quite a bit on you in there. Busy man." She flipped the book open. "Says in here that you've called yourself a Time Lord. You travel in a big blue box. Doesn't sound to human to me."

"Well, I could be a very advanced human."

"Ain't never heard of a Time Lord before. 'Til I started readin' about you."

"Well, we're rare."

"You've also said you're the last of your kind. Lyin', were you? 'Course, you ain't got a reputation for tellin' the whole truth, either."

"Oh, I tell the truth. I just don't tell the whole truth. Leaving out bits and pieces isn't lying, it's ...protecting their best interests."

"And they would be the lie-ees?"

"That is not a word!"

"All right, they would be the lied-tos?"

"It's not lying."

"Whatever."

"Cheeky little thing."

"Tommy says it's one of my best qualities," she said dryly. "He's technically my Watcher now. It's confirmed -- I really am a Potential. That's why they killed my family."

"I wouldn't doubt it. Been doin' some research, I have. Runs in your family."

"Yeah. There were two Slayers in my Da's family -- unmarried sisters, both died in their early twenties. That's what I have to look forward to when I'm called -- short violent life, early, brutal death. If I'm called."

"How old are you now?"

"Twelve."

"Well, if you're twelve, you're very...adult," he replied. "Don't know many twelve year olds with a disposition like yours. And I've known a few."

"Tommy had my IQ tested," she said. "Watcher's Council insisted on it."

"Ah, the curse of the smart. You're fifty by the time you're thirty."

"Well, I feel about twenty-five now, at least," she said. "Listenin' to all these gigglin' little twits in my class, all talking about boys and makeup and what sex really is -- and the funny thing is, they haven't a clue! Twelve, and don't know what sex is. Half of 'em still think storks bring babies."

"Like I said, curse of the smart."

She shook her head. "I like bein' smart. I like learnin'. There's so much out there to learn."

"Oh, you're right about that," he agreed. "More than you'll ever know."

"Did you know that the Sumerians were the first to brew beer? Seriously. Beer is one of the oldest remaining things in modern society. The one thing we hang on to, and it's fizzy fermented grain."

"Hmm. They weren't the very first. They were the first ones to get it right."

"Well, yes, that's what I meant."

"Oh, OK."

She nodded.

"History's got it all wrong. Sumerians weren't the first ones, you know. The first to have a society. A true culture. It was actually the American Indians. They were here longer. Certainly didn't come from India. Wasn't even populated yet."

"Really? Of course, the Indians didn't leave quite the mark on the land other races did. They worshipped it, said it gave them life. Quite right, they were. Makes you sort of ashamed, to see what the world is now."

"Oh, but they were the first to war over land," he said. "The first to say, 'Get off, this tree here is mine!' Although all civilized life has had a sense of ownership. Whether they put it into their own history or not."

"See, that's the problem with history. The winners have their version, and the losers have theirs, and usually the truth is somewhere in the middle, but you can never tell the truth, 'cause it's not approved." She even added sarcastic quote marks. "Seems silly, to me, but..." She shrugged. "I don't write the history books and I don't rule the world."

"Well, you do, to a point. You rule your own world. The space in your own world. Everything that happens there is up to you. You're old enough to shape it and make it into whatever you want!"

"I s'pose," she said. "Mostly what I want to do is learn. I'm top of my class, you know. Highest marks."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"That's part of the reason they tease me," she added, jerking her head backwards. "They think I think I'm better. I'm not, I'm just smart. To them, it's like another midway carnival freak. Like...the bearded lady or the Siamese twins. And if you tell me it's just jealousy, I'll smack you."

"Well, it is. They can see that you're going to have a brighter future than they probably will. Although that right is still there, they just have to apply, which they're not inclined to."

"'Cause they're bloody lazy."

"Yes. Humans sure have gotten that right. Never used to be."

"I'll believe you. My Da was a hard worker, never sick a day. And then there's this fat old lady down the hall from me and Tommy, always complainin' that she works so hard and never gets anything for it. Works six hours a day runnin' a register in a market, then comes home and sits on her butt and complains that her house is dirty."

"Well, in all fairness, it may be all that she's capable of doin', physically. Living by her means. And just upset that those are her means. Probably never had anybody to encourage her."

"Seems right capable of chasing me with a broom if I'm sittin' out front readin', tellin' me all kids are lazy these days, and ungrateful, and yap yap yap."

"Well, generally, she's right. Kids these days are rather lazy."

"Well, she should pick on somebody without trainin' in hand-to-hand combat. One of these days, I'm gonna take that broom and crack it over her head."

"Now! What have I always told you -- violence never solves anything. Questions are better."

"You've never told me that!"

"I haven't?" he asked. "Sure I have! I think. Maybe."

"Trust me, mate. Good memory. You have never said that. You've only met me the once!"

"Hmm. Well, then. We'll have to remedy that. You'd better run off home. I've got prior engagments."

"Runnin' off home." She gave him a quick hug. "Come see me again, Doctor."

"You can count on it."

TBC