Everybody Knows

One week later

Vivien stood by the window, watching Tom play catch with Matt below, Tom unaware he was being observed so intently. Her gaze was almost riveted on Tom, studying the sheer mass of him, how tall he was, the broadness of his shoulders. She hadn't seen him for a week now, apart from this rare interlude, Tom as far from her now as he was then. After Margaret's comment comparing him to Cueball, Tom had kept his distance, finally shocked into staying away from Vivien. Common sense dictated to Vivien that she should turn her thoughts away from Tom in turn, but as hard as she tried, she couldn't, and it frightened her.

Exhaling sharply, she forced herself to get a grip, face hardening as she turned away from the window. Tom was nothing to her and he would be nothing to her. The Doctor would do what he did best and save this sorry world, and then they would be gone, escaping into the stars. Tom Mason would be nothing more than a memory, her time here an unpleasant interval soon forgotten.

Gritting her teeth, she picked up a canvas bag and started shoving her meagre belongings inside it, the bits and pieces of clothing that had filtered through the armed guards on the doors, Lourdes surprisingly smuggling them in, as well providing what passed as necessities, a battered hairbrush and a thankfully new toothbrush, along with toothpaste, some hairpins and scrunchies. Things like feminine hygiene items were rationed, sanitary towels and tampons swiftly becoming the stuff of legend, and as for Vivien shaving her legs, she could forget it, not being allowed anything as deadly as a razor in her hands.

She hesitated over the pile of unread books Tom had given her, before stuffing them inside the canvas bag as well, figuring she might as well take them. Anne had given the go-ahead for Vivien to be discharged from the clinic, ruling her fit enough to leave. Vivien had received her schedule that morning, Tom's painfully neat print dictating what duties she had been assigned, a rota largely comprising of laundry and childcare detail, as well as shifts in the medical clinic, which would let her see the Doctor at least.

"Where's your troubadour, honey?" Maggie asked as she strutted through the doors, rifle slung across her back.

"Troubadour?" Vivien said, confused.

"Tom," Maggie translated, collapsing down in a chair. "Haven't seen him around here for a while."

Vivien eyed the other girl suspiciously, albeit caught offguard by Maggie's sudden turnaround in attitude towards Tom, since it was she who had made Tom stay away.

"Spill the beans, honey," Maggie drawled, leaning back in her chair, "why is Mason giving you the cold shoulder, huh? Or is it the other way around? Does his beard not ring your bell?"

"Piss off."

Maggie looked at her before throwing back her head and laughing. "C'mon, why is he walking around like a constipated hen?" she smirked, setting Vivien on edge. "You can tell your Auntie Margaret."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Did you come across too strong and scare him off?" Maggie said, looking hugely amused. "I hate to break it to you but Mason seems a little wet about the ears. He's not exactly cut from the same cloth as Casanova."

Vivien just looked at her, full mouth mutinous. "You scared him off," she said through gritted teeth, her remark making Maggie raise her eyebrows in ironic amusement.

"I didn't."

"Yes, you fucking did!"

Margaret let out a low whistle. "Temper, temper, kid. Y'now, this isn't some chick-lit novel. Your eyes didn't meet his across a crowded room, Vi," she said, leaning forwards, "it was through the bars of a cage."

"Why are you here?" Vivien said stiffly, abruptly changing the subject, tired of playing Maggie's mindgames.

"On the orders of My Little Pony," Maggie said lightly, referencing Weaver's pony-tail. "I'm gonna be your Yoda."

"What?"

"It's about this earning your citizenship shtick," Maggie said, rolling her eyes, "I've to take you under my wing and show you the ropes."

"You?"

"They're killing two birds with one stone, sugar," Maggie said, standing up, "makes it easier for them to keep an eye on us if they lump the outcasts together."

"He's having you watched as well?" Vivien said sharply, setting down her canvas bag.

"If you mean Tom Mason, yeah," Maggie said, tossing her blonde hair back, "remember, I was running with Pope and his partisans before I jumped ship."

"Where is that prick anyways?"

"Cooped up in a closet," Maggie said smartly, "when he should be six feet under, but good things come to those who wait, huh?"

"This is Louise, Tia, Su–Lin..." Maggie proceeded to reel off a list of names Vivien would never remember, her mind starting to whirl with the amount of people surrounding her. Her living quarters consisted of a camp bed shoved into a cramped corner of a classroom, having to share the limited space with Maggie and umpteen other female fighters.

Vivien smiled and nodded, waving her hand at random intervals at randoms, wishing they would all just disappear and leave her alone. The women were friendly enough, but there was an undercurrent of unease in the air, everyone except Maggie apprehensive of Vivien and what she was. She had saved their lives almost at the expense of her own, but the near sacrifice would never allow her to earn acceptance amongst them. With war raging between humanity and extra-terrestrials, there was no place for those like Vivien, caught between two species.

"Alright, enough with the mingling," Maggie said abruptly, getting tired of playing hostess, "go forth and multiply without us." She grabbed Vivien by the arm and steered her over to where they slept, their camp beds standing side by side, Vivien's distinguished by a faded old red throw and crocheted cushions meant to serve as a pillow.

Vivien set down her canvas bag, making the camp bed dip threateningly. "I'm not braiding your hair or having pillow-fights," she said, turning to Maggie, "and no BFFs sleepovers either" -

- "Sure sugar," Maggie said scathingly, sitting down on the edge of her camp bed, "we'll have knife-fights at dawn instead if you like."

"I... I didn't mean it like that," Vivien said uneasily, sensing she'd hurt Maggie in some strange undefinable way, "I just... I appreciate what you did for me, what you're doing" -

- "I'm just obeying orders, sweetheart," Maggie said, recovering herself, "to show you what the score is and watch your back, that's all. It doesn't mean we have to be friends, friend."

"Wait, what do you mean you're watching my back?" Vivien said, doing a double-take. "Are you my bodyguard now?"

Maggie just looked at her. "You're an alien human hybrid, little Vi," she said mockingly, "swanning around the heartland of an alien resistance movement. Do the math, kid."

Vivien studied Maggie for a moment, taking in the silver handguns on her hips, the hunting knife strapped to her thigh, the rifle slung across her back, big trouble wrapped up in a beautiful blonde package. "I think I fried my brain more than I originally thought," she said tiredly, fighting the urge to facepalm herself, "but yes, you're right, and yes, I am a fool, the biggest fucking fool ever. Feel free to slap me with a rubber fish."

"Okay, I suspected you were nuts but now I know for sure," Maggie said, looking amused against her will, "but I'll overlook this little oversight – this time. Just remember who you are and who they are and we'll be good. Plus any trouble, you come straight to me, ya hear?"

Vivien nodded, hearing her loud and clear. "Is... is the Kevin Costner thing Tom's idea?" she said, trying and failing to feign nonchalance.

"Partly," Maggie said flippantly, standing up, "and partly My Little Pony as well. But I was way ahead of them."

"Well... um, thanks?"

"I'm not going to tear Tom-Tom apart if he so much as speaks to you," Maggie said tiredly, making Vivien raise an eyebrow, still startled at Maggie's swift change of heart towards Tom, "but any bullshit and he'll have me to answer to. He's in a position of power and I've seen what men with that kind of power are capable of. They think everyone and everything is there for their taking."

"But Tom's not like that," Vivien reiterated through gritted teeth, realising too late Maggie hadn't revised her opinion of Tom at all, only rearranging the goalposts, "I get why you have that mindset, but he isn't Pope" -

- "God, he's got you brainwashed, hasn't he?" Maggie said bitterly, shaking her head. "You only got a taste of what I went through, and I'll be damned if I let that happen to anyone again."

Vivien sat cross-legged on the camp bed, trying and failing to read one of Tom's books, nervously flicking through the pages, only to return to the beginning where he'd scrawled his name in slanting script across the rain-spotted paper.

"What's that you're reading?" Maggie asked, glancing up from where she was playing poker with some of the other women fighters, contraband scattered across Maggie's camp bed, Maggie so far holding the biggest haul.

"A Tale of Two Cities," Vivien said with some disgust, holding it up.

"Didn't have you pegged as the bookish type, kid," Maggie said, brow furrowing as she examined her cards.

"It's Tom's," Vivien said, flicking through the pages again, "he gave me it."

"Oh, it's Tom, is it?" one of the women taunted, Ciara or something Vivien half remembered, not really caring. "You in there, darlin'?"

"Back off," Maggie warned, "not unless you want to lose your hair extensions."

"C'mon, I'm only sayin' what we're all thinkin'," Ciara said, glancing around at everyone, "we all want a shot at Mason, and lil Vi's the closest to gettin' the golden goose."

"Speak for yourself," Maggie said coolly, glancing at Vivien, silently telling her to shut her trap, "I prefer to pay my own bills."

"And some prefer not to," Ciara said, concealing her hand, "there's other ways to earn our keep around here than totin' a rifle."

"I'd rather earn my way on my back," Tia said bluntly, "it'd be a hell lotta easier on my bunions if I did."

"Are we seriously having this conversation?" Maggie said in disbelief. "Or am I just imagining it and we're really playing croquet on lil Lord Fauntleroy's lawn?"

"It's the only way to the top, sweetcheeks," Cherry said, lighting up a cigarette. "Ride or die."

"There's nothing at the top, sugar-lump," Maggie said dangerously, "only more stairs to climb. Warming Mason's bed isn't gonna turn your life into Lifestyles of The Rich and Famous."

"Yeah, but it would make life easier," Su-Lin said, studying her cards, "you'd have more to eat for starters. You'd have more of everything full stop."

"The only fly in the ointment is his brats," Ciara said coldly, "but hey, a girl can't have everythin', can she?"

"Well, I'm gunning for Weaver," Tia said smartly, "I'm going all the way to the top, stairs or otherwise."

"Good luck with that one," Ciara snorted. "The only way you'll get his attention is if you turn yourself into a bottle of whiskey."

"Well, Mason's mine," Su-Lin said airily, "beard and all. The rest of you bitches will just have to wait your turn."

"And so will you," Cherry smirked, tipping her ash into Maggie's mug, "Fern and Latisha are takin' bets on Heather bein' the next Mrs. Mason now Anne's out of the runnin' thanks to lil Vi here."

"And what are the odds on me?" Vivien said quietly, setting the book down, folding her hands in her lap instead.

The women looked at each other, an awkward silence descending, something in the atmosphere shifting, Vivien suddenly seeming more alien than ever, her blue-black hair cutting too strong a contrast to her bone-white face, her words underpinned by an unearthly cadence that was obviously not human.

"Not good," Ciara said bluntly, speaking up, "Mason's got to think with his head, not his balls. You're better lookin' than Heather but she ain't gonna cost him his position. She ain't got your hips though, too skinny. That might have swung thin's in your favour if Mason wanted to set up a nursery" -

"He's already got his heir and spares," Cherry said scornfully, "what he's lookin' for is a stepmother for the brats he's already got. Heather will have her hands full but she's born for it, ain't she? Fresh off the farm she is, no stranger to hard work. Plus she worships the ground Mason walks on, so maybe that'll make up for the fact she's got a face like the back end of a bus" –

- "That might drive him Annewards again though," Su-Ling theorized, "she was the one we all thought was gonna hook him in the end. She's got beauty, brains and a bra size to make the rest of us weep" -

- "Well, she's welcome to the weddin' rin'," Ciara said tersely, "I only want Mason's worldly wealth, nothin' else."

"So says you," Su-Ling said with a dirty laugh, "I want it all, baby. Have you seen the shoulders on that man? And his hands? Imagine what he could so with those hands" –

"C'mon," Maggie snapped, sick of the subject, "Mason wouldn't lay one finger on you. He's got a fucking conscience complex" -

- "Talk of the devil," Tia breathed, everybody glancing up, only to see Tom in the doorway of the classroom, Matt balanced on his hip, Heather standing next to Tom, turning the full battery of her gap-toothed smile on him, staring up into his face with unfettered adoration.

"Fuck," Ciara hissed, Maggie thinking fast and throwing Vivien's faded red throw over the growing pile of contraband, hiding it from sight.

"Be cool, ladies," Maggie said under her breath, "don't want the big boss coming over and blowing this lil operation out of the water." She glanced at Vivien, noting the way her lower lip was trembling, making Maggie's heart twist in her chest. Vivien might have been around, but she was young and raw next to Maggie and the others, as naïve as a newborn baby.

"God, is he blind?" Tia whispered, shaking her head. "Why would you chase Heather the Heifer when you could have Vivien the Vixen here?" She cast Vivien an approving glance, the first almost friendly look any of the women had given her, making Vivien strangely feel better all of a sudden.

"With a rack like yours, honey, you could aim higher than Mason," Cherry said, studying Vivien with a critical eye, "mebbe even Colonel Porter. Plus you're young, that's always an advantage."

"Also you're English," Su-Lin said, tossing her black hair back, "men like that kind of thing, the accent and shit."

"You shouldn't let bein' sum half-assed hybrid ruin your chances," Ciara said coolly, "we've all gotta work with what we got. You're forbidden fruit and that's in your favour" -

"Leave the kid alone," Maggie snapped, face suddenly feral, "she ain't your property to pimp out."

Ciara stared at Maggie for a moment, her lips curling downwards, only to think better of the fight and back down instead. Silence reigned, the women watching Tom and Heather, Maggie watching Vivien dig her nails into Tom's book, marking her territory.

Everybody knows that I'm a trouble baby
One of these come from the white trash side
I'm everything you want but it's hard to decide
Cause everybody wants true love on the side…