Revolutions are easy.

This is Leela's opinion, delivered when they land on some planet whose rulers think it is amusing to bring back feudalism.

Rodan disagrees: revolutions are not easy, but they are at least predictable.

It takes effort for Rodan to extend her senses to include Leela, but at this point it's habit. It isn't precisely the same as being with another Gallifreyan, but it is far better than being alone, and it is an automatic response to the two of them being separated. So Rodan touches her mind to Leela's the moment they step off the TARDIS, and from that point onwards, they are in constant contact.

Rodan goes to play nicely with the overlords, K-9 trailing after her. Leela goes to stir up resistance.

Throughout the long dinners, punctuated by what the overlords call entertainment, and Rodan refers to as torture, Rodan keeps her sanity by communicating with Leela. Leela, for her part, has dinners with the peasants and the enslaved. Rodan almost wishes she could be there, if for no other reason than to watch Leela rejoice in being in her element, surrounded by people who care more for function than form.

The nights are the worst. They are so used to spending hours curled around each other, Leela sleeping, Rodan watching her before dozing off herself, that it is jarring to try to sleep apart. Rodan tosses and turns in the plush four–poster, and finally shoves the blankets into a roll and curls around it. Leela doesn't sleep at all, not really – the peasants are given small houses and smaller beds, and sleep in piles for warmth. Instead, she sits outside a revolutionary's cottage and sends images to Rodan, only sleeping for a few hours just before dawn, still propped upright by the wattle-and-daub wall. K-9, for his part, grumbles in the corner and makes snarky comments about Rodan's lack of sleep.

When it is time, Leela knows the paths to get the revolutionaries into the manor, and Rodan unlocks the door. Her hosts trust her, though they shouldn't have – earlier that night, Rodan slipped knockout pills into the food, and then didn't eat. The revolutionaries want to kill the overlords – Leela refuses, and has the backing to do so. Instead, Rodan introduces the concept of war crimes and impartial juries, while Leela shows them how to turn an army into a government.

It isn't perfect, but it never is.

One of the revolutionaries slits an overlord's throat before they can stop her. Leela, to all appearances, comes within a heartbeat of killing her before Rodan stops the knife and reaffirms the idea of impartial juries. The revolutionary will be tried just as the overlords are, although her punishment will likely be lesser.

They don't say for the trials. The revolution is spreading planetwide, but because they started it, because their ideals are at the core, the violence is lesser than it could be, than it would be under someone else's hand.

Some days Rodan's conscience troubles her: they are interfering, playing at gods, changing the shape of history, pretending that they know more than the natives. Those days Leela holds her, and tells her what she doesn't want to hear. They are playing at gods, but they are doing it with the best of intentions, and their revolutions, surely, change history for the better. Rodan doubts, but her doubts run up against Leela's unshakable faith, ships smashed to fragments on rocks formed from the absolute certainty that life is all.

And then they leave, and today they are sad, because there were unnecessary deaths, but they are touching, always touching, fingers wound around each other, walking so close together their legs brush and not bothering to change that because touching is what centres them, keeps them whole and together, keeps them from forgetting why they came and why they are leaving.

They always leave.

They never come back again.

In that way, Leela thinks, they are like the Doctor.


They meet him, occasionally, always in the strangest of circumstances.

At first, it is Leela's Doctor, wild brown hair, long legs, too many teeth, a scarf. He is pleased to see them, particularly together, but takes care to never let them meet his companion. Rodan explains, after the first such encounter, that his current travelling partner is a Time Lady, with ideas about who should and should not have access to a TARDIS. Leela doesn't complain, after that.

Later, it is a different Doctor, wearing beige, with floppy hair and more companions than he seems to know what to do with. He comes to their wedding, after first apologizing for missing it. Rodan mocks him for messing up the timelines so badly. Leela is just pleased that he came.

Then it is a Doctor who seems to be taking full advantage of the exceptions in the sumptuary laws for renegades. His clothing makes Rodan's eyes hurt. Leela is unsure that she approves either, but this Doctor uses too many long words for her to argue.

Once, they meet an earlier one accidentally, with white hair and ruffled shirts. He is upset at them, though he pretends not to be, and once Rodan figures out that he is trapped on Earth, she is much more sympathetic. He glowers at Rodan and smiles at Leela, and they stop an invasion together, along with his assistants, and finally he asks Rodan to lock the memories away, because he cannot know this yet. They can both see it hurts him, because also locked away in his head is the knowledge of how to fly a TARDIS, knowledge that he gave to Rodan and she cannot return. They avoid those decades on Earth after that.

The next one they see is short, with a hat that he likes to wave about, and an umbrella that he waves even more than the hat. He and Rodan edge around each other, but it takes Leela a moment to figure out why: he is too Time Lord for Rodan's comfort, too certain in his accuracy for her to believe him. Leela likes him because he smiles and does not talk down to her, but she hates him, just a little, for that.

And finally, he has long brown hair and clothing that Rodan eyes quietly, soft speech and a habit of jumping from topic to topic. They both like this version, and he likes them. It is the first time they have seen him when he is lonely. He mentions a human girl, who did not wish to come, and otherwise is silent about his past.

Mostly they run, however, when he is there, they run and run and run, and talk and laugh and fight and save worlds and nothing has changed. It all feels slightly off, for both of them, because they are not used to three, but they are helping on a larger scale than ever when he is there, and that, at least, is something.

Their adventures with the Doctor are odder than anything else, and they would not give them up for the world.


Rodan's first regeneration is a surprise.

This planet has guards, and these guards have guns. These are normal, but things go wrong.

Leela is in the lead, on the dash back to their TARDIS. Rodan is two steps behind.

Behind her, Leela hears a scream and a thud, and she turns, breaths harsh. Rodan is on the ground, blood pouring from her side. The guard looks shocked and the others are yelling at him.

It does not matter.

She grabs Rodan, trying not to hurt her more than necessary. Fortunately, she is strong, and Rodan is light, and she can carry Rodan to the TARDIS doors. They swing open on their own. She leaves Rodan on her side, on the floor, leaves K-9 watching over her, and leaves the TARDIS.

A quarter hour later, she is back, blood not her own on her skins and knife. Rodan is still alive, gasping on the floor, hands clenched tightly on the wound. "Leela," she says, words barely more than a whine.

"Rodan." Leela's knees hit the floor and her knife falls from her hands. "You are hurt." The words shatter across her mind. She does not understand it. Rodan does not get hurt, not once, not ever. And now her blood is pooling on the floor and her guts oozing onto her hands, and Leela does not know what to do.

Rodan smiles but it looks more like a grimace. "I am." Her face is white but her hands are red, covered in blood and other things Leela does not want to think about. "I think I will regenerate," she says very quietly.

"No," Leela tells her, hands on her shoulders. The rest of the world has vanished and the only thing that matters is Rodan, here inside their TARDIS, bleeding. "No, no, no, no you will not, I will not let you!"

Her wife laughs, wincing. "Large calibre bullets, Leela. All sorts of damage inside." Her words are short and jerky, bitten out when she can get past the pain. "Don't touch –" The sentence is cut short.

Leela frowns, and then Rodan's mind is in hers, and both of them are screaming. The pain is like nothing else she has ever known, and the shock is almost worse. Leela scrambles backwards, releasing her. "How can I help?" she asks, frightened more than she ever has been.

"Box," Rodan gasps. "The message box." She curls in on herself, blood spurting, and cries out shortly. "I need a Time Lord." She is snivelling, tears coming from her eyes, and Leela would rather be anywhere but here and now.

But now she has a mission. She touches Rodan gently, through her skins, and then moves to where they put the box. They keep it under the console, in a small container. When she takes it out it feels faintly warm. "Now what?"

Rodan shakes, turning onto her back and panting. "Bring – it – no. No. I taught – you. I taught you. Concentrate. Top – open. Think. I – need a Time Lord. ATime Lord. Specific."

Leela nods. Sitting down, she puts the box in front of her and thinks. Rodan is not a great teacher, and she is not a great student, but she has learned something. After a moment, the top of the box opens. She looks at Rodan, who makes a painful smile. Taking a deep breath, Leela concentrates.

Rodan dying. Needs help. A Time Lord. Please.

The box closes again. "Now what?" Leela says, shivering.

"Door." The rest of the sounds from Rodan's mouth are neither human nor Gallifreyan. They sound like nothing Leela has heard before or wants to hear again.

Her legs are shaking. She stumbles to the doors and manages to wrench one open. The box is dropped into the Void. Leela lets the door slam shut before running back to Rodan. "Will they be here in time?"

Rodan cannot speak, just shakes her head. One of her hands clenches onto Leela's skins. The other is still pressed to her side.

Time passes. She is unsure how much. When someone knocks on the door, Rodan is reduced to quiet breaths. Leela jerks, and pulls Rodan's hand free.

The man on the other side of the door is tall, well-groomed, and wearing a human-type suit. His eyes flick from Rodan to Leela and back again, resting on her wife's bloody form. "Ah, of course. That explains the somewhat garbled nature of the message."

Leela has no time for his words. The longer this takes, the closer Rodan comes to something she cannot bring herself to name. "Help her!" she shouts, as if saying the words louder will make him more likely to listen.

The man strides past her and kneels by Rodan, avoiding the puddle of blood that surrounds her. He does not touch her but simply looks. Leela wants to scream at him to hurry, barely holding herself together. Rodan asked for a Time Lord, and she must have had a reason. Surely.

"Hmm," he says, after an age. "Your first time, I take it."

Rodan does not respond but manages to open her eyes and glare at him. It is a reaction that would make Leela smile, under other circumstances.

"I'll take that as a yes." He leans over Rodan and touches two fingers to her head. Their eyes meet. "Of course, you understand the delicate situation here? What you are asking me to do goes far beyond petty illegalities. It is quite a large request to make of someone you've not so much as met before."

Leela snarls at him for wasting time.

Rodan shoves herself over on one side, knocking his hand away. Light sparkles from her hands. "Transduction barrier. I know the codes."

"An acceptable trade." He returns his fingers to her forehead. "Contact. You may begin whenever you're ready."

Rodan cries out wordlessly and the TARDIS groans around them. The man frowns, fingertips pressed to Rodan's skull. "I am here to help. Go ahead and start it."

For one horrible moment, Rodan does not move. Then she jerks once and falls completely limp, not even breathing. Slowly, her face twists and changes. If she did not know of regeneration, Leela would be terrified. As it is, she is nervous. How much of Rodan will be left, at the end? More worryingly, it stops midway, her face human and yet not, leaving Leela without words.

The man's frown deepens. "Focus on what you want, the rest will flow from there."

Rodan makes a quiet noise, one almost-arm reaching for Leela.

"Of course," the man says, a smile flicking at his lips. "A trifle impractical, I should think. Not just what you want, then. Your future appearance. The timelines must be stabilized."

Rodan makes another noise, louder, and then tenses. Her face flows, oddly, changing and then solidifying and then changing again. When it is done, Rodan has not moved, yet she seems taller, darker, older almost, in a way that makes no sense to Leela's mind.

"Good," the man tells her, sounding approving. "Can you stand?"

Rodan doesn't appear to be able to open her eyes. She moans again.

"I suppose not. If you keep your arms in –" He picks her up carefully, avoiding skin contact.

Leela snarls again. "What are you doing?"

"Helping," he says mildly. It makes her bristle, the way he treats her like a child. But he is here to help Rodan, not her, and Leela swallows her protests. "Where is your medical bay?"

"Tell me what you are doing first," Leela tells him, wishing her knife was back in its sheath. As it is, the blade is too far away if the Time Lord is dangerous.

His grey eyes stare at her. Most everything about him is grey, except for his hair, but not a boring grey. It is more like the grey of a knife. "We have very limited time, I'm afraid. Based on your entryway, I'd say this is a Type 51. Second corridor, then, and third door on the left." He turns and strides off.

"Why did you ask?" Leela bursts out. Stopping only to scoop up her knife, she runs after him. "If you knew –"

He pauses only briefly, glancing at her as he turns a corner. "You could very well have rearranged your TARDIS. I thought it best to check." The door to the med bay swings open in front of him and he finds a bed quickly.

Leela hovers as he lays Rodan on the bed. "What is wrong with her?"

He ignores her again, picking up a syringe. Making a face, he jabs it into his own arm.

"What are you doing?" Leela demands, stepping closer to him.

Filling the syringe with his own blood, he spares her a glance. "A small amount of my blood will keep her alive until I can connect her with her TARDIS."

"Our TARDIS," Leela corrects. She does not understand why their TARDIS is helping the man anyway, but as annoying as he is, she wants him there. Rodan is more important.

The man smiles very slightly. With one hand, he shoves Rodan's sleeve up, still not touching her, and puts the syringe in the crook of her elbow with the other. "I have particles in my blood that keep me alive. This is not a permanent solution, you understand – just a temporary one," he tells her, and presses down on the syringe.

Leela watches him carefully.

Pulling the syringe out, he sets it back on the table. Rodan takes a long breath. "Good," the man says, watching her closely. "Regenerations only work because a Gallifreyan can heal themselves. Doing so, however, causes a chain of paradoxes. Unless something is inserted to stabilize those paradoxes, they will simply die again." He pauses.

Leela moves to the other side of the bed, and puts her hand on Rodan's shoulder. "You inserted this – thing?"

"Not as yet," the man says, crossing the room to a shelf of cabinets. Opening one, he begins to shuffle through it. "Time Lords have a, well, essentially a miniature paradox machine inserted into every cell in their bodies upon graduation from the Academy. For the lower castes –"

"Rodan is not lesser!" Leela shouts, hands clenching.

The man raises both eyebrows. "It's the common terminology. For the lesser castes, the situation is somewhat different. Ah." He holds up a small computer. "They must remain within range of the Eye of Harmony, or –" the computer is waggled slightly – "be connected with a TARDIS. Which is what I am attempting to do."

Leela huffs, and watches him.

The computer gets waved over Rodan's body and then the man pokes at the screen. This is apparently something that takes a while. Rodan does not move.

Finally the man sets the computer on Rodan's chest and moves off again. This time he returns with two syringes, both filled with a sparkling golden fluid. "Come here, please."

Leela approaches him slowly. "Why?"

"Take this. Inject it into her right heart at the same time that I inject this one into her left heart. Do you understand?" The man hands her one syringe.

She takes it, eyes fixed on him.

He sighs. "Trust me. This fluid is calibrated with Rodan. Once we get it into her hearts, I can connect her to an IV drip, and replace her current blood with fluid produced by your TARDIS. Ready?" He swipes one hand down Rodan's chest, and the smart-fabric parts.

After a moment, Leela nods.

"Now!"

They move together, his eyes watching her. She hesitates to insert the syringe but it is for Rodan. There is a dot of blood and then she shoves, the fluid leaving the syringe. Rodan gasps and shudders. Her back rises off the bed.

The man twists and grabs tubing from a rack. He inserts the needle on one end into Rodan's arm.

"That is – the fluid? That she needs?" Leela asks slowly.

"Yes."

Rodan cries out and nearly tears the tubing from her arm, thrashing on the bed.

The man moves, pinning her by her shoulders. "Easy, Technician. Believe it or not, I am trying to save you."

Leela makes it back to the bed, breath hissing loudly. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," the man says shortly, lips tight. "This is normal." He releases one of Rodan's shoulders and moves that hand up to her forehead. "Time to wake up, Rodan."

Rodan's eyes snap open. "Time Lord," she says, sounding frightened. Her hands scrabble at his.

He releases her and steps back. "Not the normal greeting, but it will do. A rough regeneration, Rodan."

"Isn't the first one always?" Rodan snaps, shoving herself upright.

"Usually," the man says, smiling, "I know of a few that have gone well though."

Rodan looks at him and frowns. "You want payment, I guess."

"The codes would be nice, yes."

"One more thing, Lord," Rodan says, her voice tight.

The man raises one eyebrow. "Still for the codes?"

Rodan nods. "Yes. Leela. My wife." Her eyes flicker from the man to Leela.

"What?" Leela says, looking between the two.

The man frowns at Rodan. "Your alien. As illegal as the rest of this is – I at leastattempt to remain within the laws, Technician."

Rodan raises her chin. "And here you are."

"Fair," the man says, smiling. "The codes to the transduction barrier for your life, and that of your alien's. And then we will be even."

Rodan gives him a tight smile. "Yes."

The man pulls back, looking smug. "Leela, come here."

"Why?" Leela demands.

The man's eyes meet hers, and he almost looks sad. "How long will you live, Leela? Fifty years? Seventy? A hundred, with the technology of this ship? If Rodan takes care, this body could last her five times that. And she has another eleven to go."

"I will not leave her," Leela says stubbornly, though the truth tears at her. She knows she will die centuries before Rodan does, that is a fact she has accepted.

Rodan sighs. "Leela – we know. He is trying to help. Odd as it might seem."

The man's mouth twists into something that might be a smile. "I have technology that can halt your aging cycles."

"Why?" Leela asks, hand clenching on her knife. "I am not good with money but if you take payment for one favour, why take the same payment for two favours?"

"Leela –" Rodan says.

"Out of the goodness of my hearts," the man interrupts dryly.

Leela snorts, eyes fixed on him.

He smirks. "Out of the knowledge, then, of your value to the timelines." He crosses the room and pulls out another syringe. "Immortality, of a sort. At my fingertips."

"With Rodan," Leela says, meeting his eyes.

The man raises an eyebrow. "Yes."

Leela reaches her hand out. "I will do it."

He hesitates. "I would not recommend getting beyond fifty thousand miles from your TARDIS, however."

"Fine," Leela says.

He still is not moving. His eyes sweep her, calculating, and then he sighs. "Goodness of my hearts indeed," he says quietly, in a way that makes Leela think she was not supposed to hear it.

"Getting soft in your old age," Rodan says, smirking.

Leela takes the syringe. "What do I do with this?"

"Into a vein," Rodan tells her quietly.

Leela grits her teeth, and inserts the needle-point into her arm. The fluid prickles as it flows into her veins, and for a second the world whites out. When she can see again, the man is carefully returning the computer to a cabinet.

"The codes, please," the man says, turning back to Rodan.

Leela's legs wobble and she has to grab onto another bed.

Looking exhausted, Rodan raises a hand. "In here," she says, waving at her head.

"Clever," he says calmly. "I am shielding."

"Good." Rodan reaches out with one hand and grabs onto his. Their eyes lock for a long moment before the man drops her hand. "Happy?" Rodan asks.

The man closes his eyes. "Yes. That is all of it?"

"In and out, with and without followers, there should even be the Presidential codes in there. All of it." She looks faintly sick.

The man nods, smiling. "Good. Give my brother my wishes." With that, he spins and leaves the medical bay.

Rodan sighs, and collapses back on the bed. "Omega willing, we'll never see him again."

Leela frowns, moving Rodan's legs slightly so she can fit too. "Why?"

"There are very few Time Lords who it would have been worse to call," Rodan says. "We got very lucky in that he was in a good mood, and that I had something he wanted. Next time we may not come off so well."

Leela grumbles quietly. "I did what you said –"

Rodan shakes her head. "I wasn't blaming you. Like I said, we got lucky. He had the knowledge and ability to help, and for some reason was willing to."

"Oh," Leela says. "Will he –"

"No. That's not his style." Rodan reaches out and grabs Leela's hand.

Leela makes an annoyed noise. "Who is his brother?"

Rodan looks at her, surprised. "That's right – you never did like the gossip. That was Irving Braxiatel. The Doctor's brother."

"Oh," Leela says, blinking. "The Doctor has a sibling?"

Rodan laughs. "Of a sort."

Leela wrinkles her nose. "Looms again."

Rodan laughs again. It sounds different from before, but similar. "Yes. Leela –"

"Stupid Time Lady," Leela says, curling up next to her. "Of course I still love you."

Rodan moves slightly and puts her arm around Leela. "That's good. I –"

"I know."


A/N: Brax is somewhere in between The Empire of Glass and the beginning of Gallifrey. Rodan's face-cast is Tehmina Sunny.