"I'm going to hurt that man, Doctor."
"Good morning to you too, Kathryn," the Doctor said as he looked at his sonic screwdriver to read the scans of the lawn. "What brought this on?"
"Dixon hits his daughter. I'm going to kill him."
The Doctor looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Are you sure?"
"She just told me, Doctor, and I could see it in her face. She's terrified of him."
The Doctor's gaze was sympathetic, but firm. "Kathryn, it's not encouraged at this time period, but not exactly forbidden. Father's don't hold a lot of feeling for their daughters, not usually."
"That's not an excuse."
"I'm not defending him."
"I'm still going to hurt him."
"Violence won't help her Kathryn. You'll just have to prove to one or both of them that it shouldn't happen." He closed his sonic. "So, ready to follow a shrieking woman?"
"As long as we're back in time for the party this afternoon."
"So, Wise Old Man," Kathryn said as she followed the Doctor. "Do you happen to know what's going on around here?"
"No."
"That's it?"
The Doctor looked back at her over his shoulder. "What more were you looking for?"
Kathryn shrugged. "I was expecting you to have three different hypotheses for what's going on, that's all."
"Kathryn, all that's happened is someone showed up on the front lawn and started screaming."
"That wasn't just a scream, Doctor," Kathryn corrected. "She was mourning for someone." Kathryn clicked her teeth together, thinking. "You know, that sounds weirdly familiar…"
"What does?"
"White haired lady mourning the dead in Scotland. I think I read something about it somewhere somewhen."
"You're extremely helpful," the Doctor said dryly.
"You aren't doing much better, Doc."
"Don't call me Doc." The Doctor kept looking at his sonic, following whatever signal he had found.
"What about Medic?"
"No."
"MT?"
"No."
"Nurse."
"Kathryn, my name is the Doctor. I chose it, and I'm perfectly happy with it."
"You chose your name?"
The Doctor glanced at her. "You chose yours."
"Yeah, because the name I used to be called wasn't really mine. Why'd you pick yours?"
"It's a Time Lord thing." The Doctor shrugged. "I think we're close."
"To where?"
The Doctor gave Kathryn a look. "The screaming woman teleported out. Very swift, very clean, almost no energy trace. She's either very wealthy and very smart, or working for someone else who is."
The Doctor stepped into a small clearing. There was nothing in it save a large pile of dust, about a meter wide and a foot high at its center. It looked like someone had dumped a large bag of chalk in the middle of the forest for no reason. Kathryn stared at it, eyes round.
"Is it…her?"
The Doctor didn't answer. He crouched down next to the dirt and, much to Kathryn's disgust, picked up a large handful and inhaled. Then as if to compound her horror, he tasted part of it.
"Nope." He spat off to the side. "Not her. But it's not chalk. At least, not regular chalk."
"You knew that before eating it, right?"
The Doctor glanced at her. "Anyway." He stood up, sifting the chalk with his thumb. "It's a lot like chalk, but something's…off with it."
Still not fully convinced it wasn't what was left of the screaming woman, Kathryn peered at the chalk. She frowned and took a pinch of it, smelling it.
"It doesn't have a smell. How can chalk not smell like chalk?"
"I'm not sure." The Doctor sifted it a little more, then paused. "Kathryn, do you see that?"
"See…Oh." She rubbed her fingers together. The chalk didn't come off. "It can't be chalk. It's not even proper dust. It's more like…a coating." Kathryn clapped her hands together. "Nope. No cloud, still there." She looked back up to the Doctor. "You wouldn't happen to have some kind of cologne or body spray hidden in a pocket, would you?"
"Why would I carry that around?"
"How should I know what Time Lord's stick in their pockets? Hang on, I think I might have a canister of Mace in my bag."
"Mace?"
Before the Doctor could protest, Kathryn had pulled a can of Mace out of her messenger bag and sprayed the Doctor's hand with it. She put the can away as though nothing had happened. "Smell it again."
The Doctor hesitantly did so. "Nothing. You're certain that was pepper spray?"
"I could always aim it at your face next time."
"I'm good, thanks. So, it's not chalk; it's air freshener. Binds atomically to whatever it finds and doesn't release a single molecule of it into the air. Amazing."
"Why would a banshee need heavy duty odor killer?"
The Doctor looked up at her, letting the dust run through his fingers. "Say that again."
"Why would a banshee need…" Kathryn's eyes widened. "No. No. I don't believe it."
"It fits."
"It's a legend Doctor. It's impossible."
"So are clones and trees made of energy."
"We aren't talking about the year 5001 on Planet Zroink. This is 18th century Scotland."
"And where do the stories about a banshee come from?"
"Scotland, hundreds of years ago."
"Not that long."
Kathryn gave him a look. "Not when you're nine hundred plus years." She sobered. "What if it is a banshee, Doctor?"
"Then hope it never saw you staring at her."
"Doctor, Elizabeth saw her, and she saw Elizabeth."
His eyebrows went up. "You didn't mention that before."
"It didn't seem important. But I think she was the second one. Elizabeth told me that the banshee—if it was one—looked up at her after it started screaming."
"So three people have seen the woman who mourns the dead before they are. Pleasant."
Kathryn looked back down at the pile of chalk. "Do you think that stuff has anything to do with it?"
"Not exactly sure how."
"Doctor, if the banshee is real, could the dullahan be as well?"
The Doctor sighed. "I wouldn't rule it out, but I really hope not." He looked down at her curious. "How do you know so much about Celtic myth?"
"I can also quote you the entire family trees of the Egyptian, Norse, and Greek mythologies. It's interesting."
He gave her a sideways look. "Right. Why were you outside last night?"
"I was looking for the banshee," Kathryn answered.
"No, you were outside before that. There's no way you could have been outside before I was without me seeing you ahead of time. So either you knew about her, or you were outside for another reason."
Kathryn blinked calmly. "I was thinking."
"About…"
Kathryn stared at him, then smiled in a cynical kind of realization. "You still don't think I'm really human in my memories, do you? You haven't been convinced I actually have emotional ties to anyone."
The Doctor looked back down at her. "Jahra usually don't. They're fancy video cameras."
"And I come with my own battery supply," Kathryn snipped back, referring to her energy absorption. "According to what you've told me, I'm not your usual Jahra. Open your mind, be accepting of new things! The vortex is a big place; you can't possibly know everything yet."
"You did it again."
Kathryn frowned. "Did what?"
"Used a term that you've never heard before. The first time it was about the Grixzen. How do you know what the vortex is? I know I haven't said anything about it."
Kathryn blinked, looking a little uneasy. "That's…disconcerting. Think it has something to do with the door in the back of my head that Karya mentioned two days back?" Kathryn stared off to the side. "Has it really only been two days? Feels like a lot longer."
The Doctor smiled. "Time travel does that to you. As to your question, it might. It could be the information programed into you when you were made trying to come through, or it could be whoever you were before. I'd have to take a closer look to really tell you."
"And if you try to step into my head I'll hurt you."
"Which is why I haven't, because honestly the curiosity is going to drive me mad."
Kathryn smiled smugly. "Good. You need to not know, Brainiac. So, does the transporter signal end here?"
The Doctor checked his sonic. "Yeah. Can't look any further than this."
"So really, all we can do is head back to the house and wait for her to show up and fulfill her own prophecy of death."
"Pretty much."
"Good. I don't want to miss the May Day celebration. I've heard they're phenomenal."
*Constructive criticism welcome, praise happily accepted, flames not wanted*