She laughed with relief and glee as they re-entered the TARDIS, reaching up to brush off a few fallen ashes from the Doctor's short hair. "Oh my god, Doctor. Krakatoa. I mean. The whole thing just... wow. I didn't know that it was an alien ship."

"A nuclear alien ship," he corrected, smirking back at her as the TARDIS doors closed. They'd been as close as safety would allow - probably closer, if Miranda knew the Doctor. "Bigger than anything the human race develops until well into the 24th Century. Good thing, too, because they didn't build containment facilities for blasts that big til they got to Mars."

"Yeah? And when was that?"

"First colony is there by the end of the 22nd Century, but there wasn't a full-time base cooperating with the Martians until about 2386. And then they started work on the power plant. First interplanetary effort by planet Earth. Well done, you lot. Made lots of other species sit up and take notice that you weren't quite the stupid apes they'd noticed a couple centuries before. Twenty-first century was a big one for aliens on Earth, though most people tried not to notice."

"Like they don't notice the big blue police box parked in the middle of everything?"

"Precisely." He was slightly manic as he set the coordinates, the TARDIS spinning violently at takeoff. She clutched the back of his jacket, bracing her other arm on the railing. They were still spinning, and he slipped from her grasp as he moved around the console, trying to do the job of six Time Lords. She was going to be sick. Worse. She was going to black out. Something possessed her to make a leap for the console, to do something - anything - that would make them stop spinning. She touched a small glass ball, and her fingers moved just so on it. They slid upward, like the old golf arcade game, then sideways. It was exact, and she heard the hum of a lullaby in the back of her mind. The spinning stopped.

"What'd you do?"

She shrugged, her hand still resting lightly on the small glass piece, but even she was looking down at it, startled. It had been dumb luck, she knew, that out of all the instruments on the panel, she had stumbled into that one. But it was more her exact manipulation of the instrument that was shocking. Perhaps all the watching she'd done as the Doctor piloted them across time and space had paid off.

"I dunno," she finally responded. Her hand snapped back from the controls, hurrying across the grate. "You know, I think I'll make a cup of tea. You know, need something like that after watching Krakatoa. And hearing it! Don't think my ears will ever be the same. Loudest noise in recorded history, they say, right? And we just came from there." She made it out of the console room before she noted how high and tense her voice sounded even to her ears. Even when they were apparently trapped forever in the transformation labs on Hermethica, she hadn't been so nervous. But on Hermethica, the Doctor had been there to explain things to her, or at least to lend her some confidence. Now, the feeling of the melody in the back of her head left her feeling out of sorts.

The Doctor came in later, as she sipped her tea. He looked calm, but years of practice at reading him told her otherwise. He was curious, nearly burning up with the desire to know what was going on. She had to give him credit for his restraint. She gave him a thin smile and held her hand out to him. He took it and pulled her to her feet slowly. He was gentle with her now, a side even she didn't often get to see. Her Doctor, at least this incarnation of him, was a passionate man, full of life as he struggled against the entire world. His anger was passionate, his sense of adventure was unparalleled, and even his loving was intense.

So it was this gentleness that broke her. She felt the tear rolling down her cheek before she knew she was crying. She felt stupid; she didn't even know why she was crying. She had escaped death for the millionth time since meeting the Doctor, and conveniently bumped the TARDIS back on course.

But it wasn't really a convenient accident. She'd heard it in her head. Heard him in her head, the practiced movements of his hands translating imperfectly into her desperation to stop the ship spinning out of control. It had been months now since this started - months since her hands and face and mind had been scarred by the destruction of the only working TARDIS she'd ever seen aside from their own. And now she was beginning to understand, and it scared her.

"You can still feel it, can't you? That space in your mind where the vortex ripped through." He ran his fingers through her hair as he let her cry against his jumper. "It'll pass. Humans aren't meant for that - no one is, not even me. But you're holding up. You're a tough one. You've been absolutely fantastic about all of it. Don't let it get to you now. I'm here, too, if you need me."

She took a gasping chuckle. "Oh you stupid, brilliant man. You are always so close to getting it, and then you just miss." She chuckled again self-consciously, wiping the tears off her cheeks and his lapel. "I always need you. I'm just... not used to needing."

"I know the feeling." He suddenly grinned, that manic expression that spread from ear to ear and fit him so perfectly. "Tell you what. I've got two things to show you. One inside and one outside. Which first?"

"Inside?"

"Inside the TARDIS. A place you've not been before."

"There are still places I haven't been?" She followed him as he led her by the hand out of the kitchen.

"Oh, Miranda, there are still loads of places you haven't been. But we'll get to that later. First things first."

"What is it?"

"A planet. One I haven't taken you to yet. Quiet, calm, boring. But an excellent place for a nice quiet sort of adventure."

"Almost sounds domestic," she teased.

"Don't you start with me," he warned playfully, moving to stand behind her next to the console. "But since you seem to have a knack for flying the TARDIS, and I'm all but certain she likes you, let's give it a go, shall we?" He felt her tense, and rubbed his calloused thumbs over her shoulders soothingly. "I'll stay right here, you know. Not going anywhere. Well, except wherever you steer the TARDIS too. But I'll put in the coordinates first." He reached up over her, and his sure hands typed on the keyboard that contained letters she didn't quite understand. "There you go. Now ease the wibbly lever back, that's the one. Ok, now wait for it..." his hands moved up to her biceps, then her shoulders, and she found herself mildly distracted. Now was not the time for that, and she found herself instead searching for what she was supposed to be doing. She found it in the lingering touch of the Doctor's mind on hers, along with that persistent song in the back of her head. Her hands moved over the instruments she could reach as the Doctor whispered directions in her ear, then stepped away from her to finish a few minor tweaks. "There you are. Might even be a proper pilot someday, as long as you've got me handy to help out."

"Where'd we come to?"

"The planet's called Woman Wept. Completely frozen in time. Some say it's because of the Time War. Others say it's because of a cataclysm involving a former double sun. Either way... it's all frozen, but not cold. The waves, the beaches... completely still and solid. There's only one continent on the whole thing, looks like a crying woman from above. But like I promised, quiet, but still plenty of space for an adventure." He gestured toward the door.

She took a step toward it, but instead threw herself back at the Doctor, kissing him for all she was worth. He was startled at first, but pulled her into him, growling low when she pulled away after a few too-short moments. "You're absolutely brilliant, you know that?" She was beaming now, a complete change from just before. "Absolutely brilliant. Anywhere you want to go after this."

"Well, we could see the stone festival of Hoshyl..." His voice was still low, his hands on her lower back playing with the hem of her shirt.

"Done." She grinned. "After we do some exploring here." She broke away from him and dashed toward the door, flinging it open and barely taking the time to ensure they weren't parked on the edge of cliff before running out. They were instead parked on the top of a large, cresting wave, permanently held there by whatever had caused this planet to stop cold. "Oh, my..." She reached her hand back for the Doctor's, twining her fingers in his own as she leaned back into him, surveying the frozen seascape from where they were.

She let him start to pull her back into him again before she started out of the TARDIS at a full run, knocking him off balance slightly as she stepped away, sticking her tongue out at him as she ran. "Slow poke!" She was enjoying running. It had only been a few days since her muscles and skin had knit themselves properly together, and she felt faster, stronger, and better able to keep up with the Doctor than ever before. She wanted to test that - to push herself. Her mind was still stretched thin in some places, but she was getting back to normal. Or maybe she was growing into it.

She knew he wasn't slow, though, knew he was faster than her, and she sat down fast and slid down the frozen wave into the trough. There was not much soft about this planet, and she put her feet down hard to slow herself before the bottom, then looked back up to the top of the hill. Strangely, the Doctor was standing there, considering her. "You coming?"

He didn't answer, but walked away. She shrugged, having apparently mistaken their game, but continued along the bottom of the wave, looking through the deep emeralds and impossible blues of the frozen waters.

She shrieked when she felt hands on her waist, his hands catching her defensive strike easily, and kissing her again. She laughed. "You scared the hell out of me! How'd you get down here?"

He nodded behind him absently, where the TARDIS was now situated. "Turned off the parking break. Silent as can be now."

"Well that's a trick! We should do that more often."

"I can think of a few things we should do more often."

"Explore amazing planets of frozen seas?" She ran her hand down his chest, then turned to walk away from him again. He held her hand against him.

"Explore, yes." He whispered against her hair. "You were in my mind again, when we were flying, weren't you? I was trying to show you things, and you could see into me, and that makes me want things. Makes me distracted." He kissed her fingertip, and she bit her lip. Was it this much an aphrodisiac for the Doctor to see into her head? Although after years together, it shouldn't surprise her what got him into this mood. It shouldn't, but it did.

"Let me see what you promised outside the TARDIS. Then you can show me the inside."

"'S bigger on the inside," he whispered seductively.

She laughed. "Oh, really? You're using that on me? Works on all the girls."

He paused, smiling at her happiness, the considered. "Actually, yeah, usually does."

She punched him lightly. "Oi! Watch it or I'll start talking about all the other boys I've been with."

"That'd be a short conversation, you're such a young thing."

"You are just on a roll today. From hero to zero in no time flat."

"Zero?" He tried to catch her hand in his, but she dodged just out of the way. "Come on, Miranda..."

"For the record, I may be a young thing, but I wasn't a prude."

"No, but you didn't have much time, relatively speaking..."

"What, and you make a stop at a brothel on every planet you visit?" She was teasing, but her expression changed when his turned smug. "Oh god."

"Don't have to, if you know what I mean."

"Mhm. Mr. Seduction, you are."

"I believe it was you who called me Casanova."

"It's a turn of phrase!"

"Casanova didn't think so. He was quite proud of himself. Til I showed him up of course."

"Of COURSE you've met Casanova. And of course you were better than him, all superior Time Lord physiology and double hearts and respiratory bypass systems."

"What? It's a definite advantage, among other things." She eyed him skeptically. "Oh come on, it's not like you haven't benefited from all of it."

"Benefited? Sure. Whatever. Best I've ever had. Don't expect you to say the same." She huffed, trying to gather herself. She was precariously close to crying, and that was not at all how this was supposed to go.

"Well, like I said, the odds aren't exactly in your favor."

She cracked open, and the tears burst through with a raucous guffaw. "No, they're not." Images flashed through her head of a blonde girl with eyes full of adoration, a woman with a knowing smile and curly hair, and strangely, Queen Elizabeth. She filed those away. Those were not from his mind, those images full of gold flecks. She was seeing things she shouldn't again. She tried not to let him see that anything was scaring her. She let out a long sigh instead, shaking her head sadly at the Doctor. She backed away a few feet while he processed what was happening, then felt a surge of energy in her body as she took off running. She was in trainers, a t-shirt, and light jeans, and easily pulled away from the Doctor in his heavy boots and leather jacket. She'd never done that before. It was exhilarating. It was vindicating.

She ran and ran and ran, following the curves of the waves, little eddies in the water that made paths between them, small hills of water, until she was well and truly lost. She didn't even know where she'd come from. When she stumbled upon the shore, she stopped. She sat on the sand, but it didn't shift with her weight. She was crying, her tears and her breath were the only things moving. It was strange, to be alone on a silent planet. She hadn't been alone in a long time. She was always on some new planet, or with the Doctor, or even the TARDIS. She had come to count the TARDIS' presence as not being alone, since it was obviously more than a machine. It even sang to her, after all.

She began to hum that song without realizing, the haunting one she heard in her mind now and again. The one she'd heard the first day, and the day of the explosion, and today when she learned to fly. Only now it echoed longer. She took deep breaths, bringing herself under control. She felt warm, uncomfortably so, and her head hurt. It wasn't a surprise - the Doctor had said there might be some aftereffects of her exposure to the Time Vortex. She was only human after all.

Only human. How many times would she be reminded of that? That she wasn't a Time Lord, or the Face of Boe, or a sky fish, or a TARDIS. She was a regular old human, not even from this dimension. Nothing. And she was getting old. She didn't count birthdays, because she was never sure of the date, but she would be decently into her forties. She didn't look it - she didn't look much older than the day she stepped aboard the TARDIS, which was all well and good, since the Doctor didn't like to see change inside his TARDIS unless he was the cause of it.

She laughed bitterly at the thought that if she were still on Earth, still among normal human beings, she would be a miracle girl, still looking 27 years old after her 42nd birthday. Because it had been that long. She had been with the Doctor for longer than her marriage had lasted back home. Although that wasn't really a surprise, since it had lasted only a few years. Her ex-husband had told her she was frumpy and boring when he'd broken it off, and the he was looking for excitement she just couldn't give. His beautiful free-spirited girlfriend he'd robbed from the cradle could. Another round of laughter cut through her. Ah well, she wasn't boring. She'd worked for the Department of Justice in the field for a few years before her father died, before she'd retreated away from the rest of the world, and before the TARDIS materialized on her doorstep. Now, she'd been part of saving more worlds than she could keep track of, seen more events than she had cared to, and met more people than she could have possibly done any other way. She lived in a ship that traveled through time and space. Hardly boring.

But still she felt it. She felt that nagging voice in the back of her mind that it wasn't enough. Maybe now she would be far from boring at home, but this was the Doctor she was talking about, the last of the Time Lords, the savior and destroyer of worlds, the man who had shown up Casanova and Einstein and Neil Armstrong. He was so far from boring. Boring's opposite. Wherever he went, boredom couldn't even exist. It felt like that. Except for her.

She was the domestic, boring part of his life. That was obvious. And he often said he hated domestic, so she kept up the running and the adventures and the exploring. And they thrilled her. But she was getting old. Her human self wanted to settle down. Wanted all the domestic things she couldn't have with the Doctor. And the Doctor was reminiscing about all the things he used to be able to have before her. And she felt his desire to have those things again.

Nothing around her moved. Not sand, not wind, not water, not even time. She didn't know how long she sat there, alone, turning things over in her head. She could have sat there for a thousand years and not known it. But she felt the tugging on her mind, the gentle brush of a concerned, and angry, friend. The TARDIS had found her, and it was warning her to play nice with her thief, sister or no. Miranda grunted to herself and stood up, moving to brush the sand from her pants only to realize there was none. She felt coldness around her in this time locked place, and as she stood a bolt of pain split through her. bright and hot and golden in her mind's eye. She snapped her eyes shut and clutched at her head, trying to stop it from rocking through her quite so violently.

She heard the TARDIS' materialization alarm - it's parking brake, or so the Doctor had said - and knew the Doctor would arrive soon. So she stood and waited.

"Miranda! I've been looking for you. TARDIS couldn't pick you up on the first scan. Because of the way time seems to move here, it was like the whole planet was vibrating as soon as we arrived. I had to recalibrate the scanners. But you've moved miles! You're practically a marathon runner now."

She looked down at her legs, but didn't turn back to him. She was breathing in timelessness, willing it to become part of her. It was cold and calm and filled her head with something other than searing pain and her own thoughts. "Told you that your next one should be, didn't I? Nanogenes apparently grant wishes." She smiled weakly as the pain started to dissipate into her arms and fingers and legs and toes.

He stood awkwardly behind her, arms crossed and a frown on his face. "You alright?"

"Will be." She took a long, deep breath and tried to settle herself back into place before turning around. She turned around and walked back to the TARDIS, leaning on the doorframe and looking back at him. "Come on then."

He should have apologized, and so should she, but they were past that for now. Something else was nagging at her, and he could see it. He tucked his arm loosely around her waist and walked inside with her, laying a kiss on her temple.

She sighed and turned into him, meeting his lips with hers. It wasn't perfect, and maybe it wouldn't last, but it was hers. And she was going to steal some time for herself.