Thank You, God, for everything.
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. I give you ze last chappie.
"THERE you are, Camille, thank you, James," the Doctor said pleasantly, clapping his hands together.
"Yes, THANK you, James," Camille said, and she wrenched his hand off of her and she stepped into the circle of clear space the Doctor was in. Everyone watched with fixated faces as she said, "You've got me, Doctor. And I suppose you'll want to forgive me, Doctor? Give me another chance to . . . change my ways."
The Doctor quirked a nonexistent eyebrow. "How would you know that I go about doing that?"
Camille stopped walking around the circle then. Her eyes were filled with pure venom as she looked at the Doctor, a still coldness to her face now. "Because that is what you did to my country. My planet. You caused destruction, deaths, and then you came to our leaders and offered them a second chance when that is what we should have been giving you. And if it were up to me, there would be no second chance, Doctor. I watched you speak to the leaders in the Inner Courts, one of the audience, loathing you. You were too chipper, too sure of yourself. You knew they'd listen to your lies, your convincing arguments. But your words can only get you so far, Doctor. Actions have to come along at some point or another."
"I get actions. Actions, not guns," the Doctor said. He shook his head, saying, "Though, I wonder how controlling people like zombies is really taking action."
"It's more than you've done, Doctor," Camille said. She looked about and saw that many of the paps had come in, and there was pictures being taken around them now. It was a bit scary, but Camille straightened, saying, "You don't know how to defeat me."
"I defeated your kind before, Camille, and I can do it again," the Doctor said, looking irritated at himself. He banged his screwdriver across his palm, looking away from Camille for a moment, trying to divulge into his mind, which was whirling with the thoughts and feelings and smells and touches and memories of a thousand worlds, of over a thousand years, full of love and darkness and brightness and depression and lingering fingerprints and facts about places he should remember but can't.
"Doctor?" he heard Amy say. He looked up slightly to see her next to Rory, still holding onto him like she wasn't about to have him get away from her, looking slightly alarmed at how plain lost he looked.
"Yes, Doctor?" Camille said, looking far more disgusted at him now that he was hesitating, frantic, not sure what to do. "How are you going to pull yourself out of this one?" She let out a barking laugh. "You destroyed and then humiliated a great number of my people. And you let it burn. Let it all burn. So, what are you going to do now?" And she stretched out her arms and she looked like she might be getting ready for regeneration, but no. Her skin peeled back from her body, her clothes tearing, her hair falling out. But it wasn't expected dark flesh and blood spurting from beneath the peeling skin and ripping clothes, but dark brown, like dark chocolate, skin that appeared, splotched, like the skin had been covered with dark burns that healed over others. Her eyes slid to being pure black, like someone possessed, and her cracked lips opened to reveal a brilliant white smile. Her smooth fingernails spread as her hands, webbed together like a frog's foot, spread out, her arms stretched as her whole body took its real form. Her bodice and legs and arms were covered in brown scales. She looked to the Doctor and said, no, yelled, "And what can you do now, Doctor? I've been trying to get you away all this time, but now I want you to come and realize what pain and loss you've made me endure."
"All the pain and loss you've received has been toward your pride," the Doctor finally said in a quiet, serious voice. He straightened, looked at Camille directly in the eyes. "You're the only one who's suffered. The other received a reality check that what they were doing was wrong. I was only trying to help."
"You don't help, Doctor," Camille hissed. "You only ruin, and destroy, and kill. So don't lie to us."
The Doctor looked at her with a look that could not be described. There was a thousand things running through his mind, torment and pain, but he had his mask on, and his voice was barely shaking as he said, "Rory? Have you still got your crisps on you?"
Over his shoulder he heard, "Pardon?"
"Your crisps. Chips. Potato thingies," the Doctor said. Camille looked a little perturbed, but the Doctor kept his eyes on her, not willing them to stay on anything but her. "People were once poisoned by potatoes, Camille. Bet you didn't know that."
"Like I would know some horrible Earth history fact," Camille said. "I don't care much for your precious Earth, Doctor."
The Doctor ignored her comments. "Bet you also didn't know that it's a poison to your race." He turned and thrust out his hand, and Rory tossed him a bag of chips from the machine from which he had fumbled to let loose of a pack since the Doctor had brought it up. The Doctor turned and tore the pack open, saying, "Game's over, Camille. Surrender."
"Don't even try bewitching me, Doctor," Camille hissed.
"Then I won't. Just hold still," and the Doctor threw the open pack at her, standing back as the chips flew out and smacked against her scaly body; instead of falling to the floor, they stayed attached to her skin, dissolving and burning dark holes into her, and Camille looked angrily at the Doctor as the pain consumed her; then a burning scream rattled from her throat. Her arms flapped around, like she didn't know what to do with them, but then they sank to her knees and clasped her kneecaps as she fell to the ground, her head bent, not willing to look up at the Time Lord standing over her, his face set so that any emotion could be fit to describe it.
Her limbs folded into a mess, like a giant fountain of chocolate crumbling into a soupy mess. It was a bit gruesome as the crowd stepped back so that her innards wouldn't touch them as they spread.
The Doctor looked a little white. "Oh, didn't remember that that was supposed to happen. It was supposed to stop her. In a way, I suppose, that was a way," he said, quite startled. He straightened, though, tightened his bow tie, and he turned to see that Amy was flinging herself at him, crushing him in a hug.
She pulled away from him after a moment and choked slightly, trying to regain herself once more. The Doctor smiled and said, "Sentimental, aren't we, Pond?"
"Good thing I don't just sit and eat fish fingers and custard, aye, Doctor?" Rory said, stepping forward as the paps around them came out of their frozen reverie and flooded toward James, whose security rushed to get to, and several guards went around the Doctor and the Ponds.
"Think this is supposed to prove a point, Rory?" the Doctor wondered.
Rory smiled and raised an eyebrow, making the Doctor let out a resigned sigh and say, "I suppose so."
"Don't worry," Rory said, patting the Doctor on the shoulder. "I'll try your fish someday, when the scarring memories are gone."
"Ah, Rory!" Amy said, letting out a laugh that sounded awfully relieved.
The Doctor could only smile.
"By the way, Rory, did you finish your script?"
James Peering looked as annoyed as could be. He was holding his face in his hands as the Doctor took to the seat next to his director's chair, fidgeting and looking very happy as he settled into his chair, crossing his legs and clasping his hands together.
"This chair is quite comfy, you know," the Doctor said, pointing to it. "Though, wouldn't it be neat to have 'The Doctor' on it?" He spanned his hands out and looked to James, who looked like he was ready to throw up his hands and leave the studio for the day. But they had lost time with Camille and her acting about (the janitor had come out and was almost finished mopping her up), and time was money, and so this scene had to be finished today.
Of course, James was ready to throw away the script that Rory had done, but he had decided to use it since they needed some good footage today.
He sighed and brought his megaphone out and told everyone to finish up and get ready, for in ten, nine, eight - Amy and Rory looked alert in their kitchen and living room spaces, and Amy put her sunglasses on - seven, six, five, four - Amy set to be ready to chop up an onion - three, two, one.
"Action," called James, his voice sounding a bit too hopeful for what he had.
Amy sighed and began chopping up the onion, looking as if she was hiccuping as she vigorously pounded at the onion. She was muttering under her breath, darting her manicured pinky past her eye to stop a tear from rolling down, as she cursed the name of the Alien.
Rory, in his Roman suit of armor now, turned in his seat, looked quizzically at Amy, the Diva, and said, "Diva, you okay?"
"Oh, definitely. Sure. Of course I am," Amy said, sighing.
Rory said, "I'm not sure that the definition of okay is the same for either of us."
"You managed to derive that from this conversation? That's all you've got?" Amy said, and she turned back to her cutting, and then let out a cry as the plastic knife gave her a 'cut' and a little bubble of fake blood popped on her finger, making her look like she had cut herself. "Oh, damn it!" she said, wrapping her hand in a towel.
"Hey, are you okay?" Rory said, getting off the couch.
Amy sniffed and pushed her sunglasses down, giving Rory a look that said, "Really?"
Time passed for a laugh, then Rory said, "Though, honestly, what is up with you?"
"Alien is a really big jerk and I don't like men at the moment," Amy said.
That made Rory take a step back, saying, "Oh, I didn't know."
Amy rolled her eyes. "No, not you, you goofball." Rory took his step back as studio laughter filled the air, and then he said, "I'm sorry what happened between you and him."
"Yeah. Well, there's not much you can do about it," Amy said, shrugging as she looked at her hand wrapped in a towel.
"I can tend to that, though," Rory said. He gently placed a hand on her arm and said, "Let me look at that."
Amy looked at him, her sunglasses set on him as he looked at the cut hidden by the towel.
"Doesn't look too bad," he said, looking back to Amy, whose face was within inches of his.
The Doctor in his seat sighed and whispered so that only James could hear, "They're going to kiss now, aren't they? They always do that." And so when the tension was met with the Diva and the Roman kissing, the Doctor threw up his hands and said, "See? I knew it." But he was smiling to himself. Rory always loved kissing Amy. Of course he was going to write a part with that included.
The scene ended, and Amy and Rory broke apart and turned to James and the Doctor, who was smiling softly and smacking his hands together so they were very loud.
"How was that?" Rory wondered.
James blinked and stood up. "You expect me to spend MY time and the producers' MILLIONS of dollars on that? You kissed her because she cut her finger cutting an onion. That's pathetic, this is pathetic."
Amy raised an eyebrow. "So you didn't like it?"
"I liked it," the Doctor volunteered.
"Yes, and I liked it too," Amy said, turning to Rory with a mischievous smile, making him chuckle.
"That's not going to work. You all are fired," James said, pointing to the three.
This made Amy and Rory tear their eyes off each other and plant them on James. "Excuse me?" Amy said. "Fired? Us?"
"Yes. I can't have this entire series based on this. You had your little scene, it's all resolved, I'll get a new Diva and Geek and Roman," James said quickly, his voice rising a little.
"Wait, what'd I do?" the Doctor said, standing up next to James.
James rolled his eyes. "Fish fingers and custard."
The Doctor sighed and shrugged. He supposed he had a point.
"Well, if that's how things are going, see ya," and Rory saluted James and with one arm around Amy, who was smirking despite herself, walked forward, catching the Doctor under his other arm.
At the exit, the Doctor said, "Are you sure you're okay, Rory?"
Rory shrugged. "My first time as a television show writer and it sucks. I've got plenty of other places to go to and do stuff there, right?"
"That's downright optimistic of you, Rory," Amy said, smiling as they passed through the gates and were immediately surrounded by a wall of people who were taking pictures of them, only allowing them a little circle of walking space.
"That's because I actually have a chance of doing something cool somewhere else," Rory said in reply as they came to the TARDIS.
"You're right about that, Pond," the Doctor said, and he unlocked the TARDIS and held the door for the couple and as they walked through, he gave a nod to the paps and disappeared into his darling Time Machine.
He hurried to the console and after giving the buttons a quick appraisal with his eyes, he looked to the Ponds, who were both leaning against the railing that was around the console.
"Where to now, Doctor?" Rory said as he began to take off the heavy pieces of armor. Amy took this as a cue and discarded her big funky sunglasses.
"I was thinking; let's go back to the 1950s," the Doctor said. He cracked a smile. "I'd like to see Hollywood then."
"You're just saying that because you accidentally married a famous actress from that time and you want to see her," Amy said, raising an eyebrow, holding in a laugh.
The Doctor started the TARDIS, and taking his hand off the console, he looked back to the Ponds and said, "So . . . no objections?"
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