When the team assembled at the Tardis, Martha had the Doctor and Danny wait at the end of the line while she and Clara waited by the door, so the Doctor wouldn't "run off and do something stupid" without the team. Martha bellowed, "All right, you lot! Repeat after me: 'It's bigger on the inside.'"
Danny joined in the group shout: "It's bigger on the inside!"
"Good," Martha said. "You won't have to say it when you're aboard." She nodded to Clara; Clara opened the door. The team filed in. Danny and the Doctor were the last ones allowed aboard.
Clara closed the door as Martha returned the Doctor's keys and screwdriver to him. Then she spoke into her headset mike: "Guinevere to round table, Merlin and the knights are ready to leave the castle. Over." She paused, then added, "Ma'am?"
Kate's voice came over the speaker: "Please repeat Guinevere: Is Merlin present?"
"Yes, Ma'am, Merlin is with us."
"Very well. Proceed."
"Copy." She smiled. "All right, Doctor. It's your show."
"Ok. So I guess the plan is to try and capture this angel alive. Simplest way is to lure her into the Tardis and drop a force field. For that we'll need bait."
Danny arched his eyebrows. "What sort of bait, Doctor?"
"Not what you're thinkin', P. E."
Martha caught on. "The Tardis. You want to use the Tardis as bait."
"A Tardis can provide an angel with an inexhaustible supply of temporal energy," the Doctor explained, "if you don't mind that their feeding frenzy could rip the galaxy in half. But I have a hunch our girl is a little hungry. So, we make a….less than perfect landing in the cemetery. Door 'springs' open a crack. Perception filter masks our life signs. We'll actually be going back in time, landing at 2 AM local time. She'll want a little snack; won't be able to resist the temporal energy from the time rotor and come in. Then we drop the force field. Easy."
"In theory," Danny said. "No plan of battle-"
"—survived its first contact with the enemy, I know," the Doctor said. "Hopefully, she doesn't know that. Any other questions?" A young soldier raised his hand. "Yes!"
"How do we make a less than perfect landing?" the young man said. "You can't fake a crash any more than you can fake a stumble."
"Ah," the Doctor said. "That's the tricky part. We'll fly to the cemetery and land there in 1888. That should be before our girl first showed up in New York. Then we stay at exactly the same spot and move forward in time at slow speed…"
Danny said, "Oh my God, I'm getting the hang of this. It's going to be like flying into turbulence, right? Like heavy chop?"
The Doctor grinned. "Exactly!"
Danny rolled his eyes. "Worst cargo plane ride of my life was into this massive storm. And the pilot was an officer."
"Hmmm…" the Doctor said. "Well, you should be all right. Your perception of time is too narrow to really be affected by it. It'll just be bumpy. I, on the other hand, as a Time Lord, can be very susceptible to temporal motion sickness."
Danny smiled. "You mean I might get to see you throw up?"
"Possibly."
"Thank you, Doctor. I feel better about it already."
"Thought you might, P. E."
Martha turned to Clara. "And this is the way they are all the time?"
Clara nodded.
"You're more patient than I am, sister."
"You have no idea," Clara lamented.
Martha turned to the Doctor. "So now that we're done hosing the decks with testosterone, boys? Yeah? Doctor? Whenever you're ready."
"All right!" He worked the controls. "Calvary Cemetry, 1888, here we come."
The time rotor wheezed and groaned. Then the deck plates rattled.
"1938," the Doctor said. "'Chop' in the time vortex. And here we are, 1888. Soldier, would you open the door?"
One of the soldiers opened the door on a sunlit green space. They could just make out a skyline in the distance.
"I've beefed up the door force fields and inertial dampers," the doctor said, "so no one should fall out. But hang onto something. But anyone who would like to watch the trip, get a good vantage point."
Danny stuck close to Clara as she came round to a side of the console she could see the door from. "Ready when you are, Doctor."
"Right," the Doctor said. "For reference, we are looking west towards Manhattan. Watch the sky." He worked a lever. "Starting forward."
For a moment, Danny didn't think anything was happening. Then the sun set rapidly over Manhattan. Darkness fell. The Moon set as the sky lit again. Clouds race across the sky as the sun set again, faster than before. Then more days passed, faster and faster.
"Yes, it's like time lapse," the Doctor said, "only it's real. Passing through the 1890s. There's January 1, 1900. Happy New Year!"
The skyline changed as they watched, and more graves sprang up on the landscape.
"Going through the oughts…" the Doctor narrated. "…the teens…1919, 1920, 1921…"
The deck rattled.
"…that was 1929…." He sounded queasy. "Oh, boy…you might get your wish P. E….ugh…."
Lights flickered and the deck rattled. Alarms sounded.
"….thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, hang on lads and lasses, this is it…"
The lights went out and it sounded and felt as if the Tardis was racing over large rocks at 100 miles an hour. Danny began to wonder if the Tardis would hold together. Then the 'turbulence' began to subside and the lights began to flicker less.
"…passing 1940," the Doctor groaned. "Oh, boy. Coming up on the 1970s." He paused. "Anyone who doesn't want to can look away now."
The twin towers of the World Trade Center sprang up.
"Oh, God…" Danny groaned. "Can we stop? Do something?"
"Can't," the Doctor said. "Sorry. Same reason I can't go back and get the Williams. You can close the door if you want and open it when we're close to landing."
"No. Just let me know."
"September 11, 2001, in five, four, three, two, one…"
The twin towers vanished in a flash of flame and smoke.
"Was there a point to that, Doctor?" Danny choked.
"We all need a reminder of what the stakes are, including me," the Doctor said. "Right, entering 2010. We land in 2014, the lights go out and we all hide. It's going to be tight. Target date in five, four, three, two, one!"
The Tardis stopped with a thud, and the view outside the door was of a clear, Moonless night. The lights went out. The team scattered to the catwalk and below the console. "And no one look at the door," the Doctor said as he huddled with Danny, Martha, and Clara below the console. "We want our girl to think there's no one at home."
They waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Nothing happened.
Martha checked her watch. "It's been ten minutes. What's keeping this thing? She taking the tube or something?"
"I don't know," the Doctor said. "Everyone stay put. I'm going to take a quick reading."
The Doctor padded away. Then Martha heard the door shut. Clara and Martha just realized what was happening when the lights came on and the time rotor groaned.
Martha sprang up and ran at the door, Clara hot on her heels. "No!" Martha shouted. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. That idiot is going to get himself killed!"
8
8
The Doctor padded up the steps. True to form, Martha's troops did as they had been told and didn't interfere. He slipped out the door into the night. Then he turned, aimed his screwdriver at the Tardis, and sent the signal. The doors shut and locked and she dematerialized. He swept the area with the screwdriver and studied the readings. Then he pocketed it.
The Doctor pulled a flashlight out of a pocket and made his way to Amy and Rory's grave. The headstone was still lying on the ground, the whole row cordoned off by police tape.
"'Rule Britannia,'" the Doctor quoted, "'Britannia rule the waves. Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.' That's what their navy sings. But do they really 'rule the waves'? Can they tell the ocean what to do? Sure, by necessity they became a naval power and that lead them to being a world leader for centuries. And even now they have an impressive navy. But if the queen went to the edge of the deck of an aircraft carrier and ordered the ocean to let her walk on it, what do you think would happen if she jumped in? Britons don't rule the waves anymore than Gallifreyans are really lords of time. We can travel in it better than anyone else. But we're not 'lords' of it. And time is infinitely more dangerous than a water ocean." He turned around. "Don't you agree?"
The angel was standing behind him, smiling nervously with her hands folded in front of her.
"The boys were a mistake," he said. "It was an impulsive act that got my attention. So now you think it's time to face the music. Well, you're right. This has been a while in coming. I've given the matter a lot of thought.
"At first, I was angry at you. I'd never been so enraged. I'd known Amy her whole life; she was like family. I was at her wedding. Then when I married her daughter, River, she and Rory became family. And you took them away! I wanted to kill you. I wanted to slaughter ever last weeping angel in the Universe. To hell with my antiquated morals! But as soon as I thought that, I knew Amy would not approve. She would try to talk me out of it. So I didn't do it.
"Then I was angry with myself. I'd made a stupid mistake, letting my guard down at the wrong moment. Then I blamed myself for involving them in the first place, for taking anyone aboard as a companion. I saw myself as doing it out of vanity – to impress people of lesser species with my scientific knowledge. And Amy Pond, the girl who waited, she adored me. How could I pass that up? All so I looked good while I once again saved humans who had butted in where they had no business going. So I turned my back. For two hundred year I went from place to place, wandering space and time, keeping to myself, not caring what happened, finally settling in Victorian London. And there I would stay and to hell with the human race.
"And then Clara…an incarnation of her…came along and shook me out of it. And as time went on, I realized I couldn't change myself or what I believe. I couldn't ignore the fact that I'm afraid of the dark and that I hate being alone. And that if I'm going to involve others in this insanely dangerous life of mine, there are going to be consequences for them and for me. So I realized I couldn't be angry at myself anymore. I have to forgive myself. It's not easy. But I try every day.
"And that brings us back to you. I just scanned for your energy signature. Your levels are what you would expect for a weeping angel who survived a time paradox and who's fed only once in the past 76 years. You felt some…obligation to them. That's why you lost your cool with those boys. And that's why you've been starving yourself for a human lifetime."
He took a half step closer to her and went on: "This has to be the hardest thing I have ever done. Every fiber in me is screaming not to do it, but it is the right thing to do. So I will say this: I don't blame you. I forgive you. I don't want you to die. I…I can work out a way for you to safely feed off the Tardis' temporal energy. And if you would like to travel with me, you would be more than welcome. It's…it's what Amy would want."
The flashlight went out. Then he felt the angel throw her arms around him. Her body shook and he heard soft squealing in his ear as she hugged him.
"I…I don't think I'm the hugging sort," the Doctor said. "But I suppose under the circumstances I can make an exception." He folded his arms around her and felt himself smile. "I hope you're happy as you seem to be; I should be embarrassed if this is all a trap."
"Nnn mmm." She rocked him in her arms. Then she began humming softly.
"All right," he said. "Tricky part is getting the Tardis back and returning us to UNIT."
"Mmmmm."
"That sounded like 'I've got this.' What are you going to-"
He blinked as his surroundings suddenly became light. He was indoors, in a room. He was facing shelves filled with bottles of chemicals above a lab table, his arms still wrapped around the empty space the angel had been in.
"…do?"
"What the devil…" a familiar voice said behind him. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"
The Doctor spun and recognized the speaker at once: Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, only much younger in his military uniform. Sergeant Benton stood next to him. They were standing next to the Tardis. He recognized the lab he had had as UNIT scientific advisor; this had to be around the time of his third and fourth incarnations.
The Doctor grinned. "Brigadier! So good to see you again. And Sergeant Benton! How are you?"
"Who…?" the Brigadier prompted.
"It's me—the Doctor."
The Brigdier's eyes widened. "You mean you changed again and got away from Leftennant Sullivan not two minutes after—No, wait, let me guess: You are a future version of the Doctor who has come back in time and you need our assistance on something."
"Absolutely right! My dear Brigadier, you've got it! The essentials anyway. Your mind is opening to new possibilities. I never knew. I'm proud of you."
"Actually, Doctor, I was saving myself an argument. So, what is it this time? You need your other self's help with another universe-threatening menace?"
"No," the Doctor said. "I don't need him. In fact, I don't want you to breathe a word of this to anyone – not Sarah, not Harry, not me – nobody. I'm in the middle of something, and I need the Tardis. I need to get to Victoria Station."
Benton grinned. "You don't need the Tardis for that, Doc! I can give you a lift."
"In 2014," the Doctor added.
"Oh," Benton said.
"Yes," the Doctor said. "Assuming I-" he dug small card out of one pocket and put it back. "Yes, I can."
"Doctor," the Brigadier said, "am I to understand you need to take the Tardis to 2014 so you can ride the tube?"
"Yes," the Doctor replied. "I can preset the return trip and wipe the nav logs so my other self will never know she was gone. But I need one of you to press the button to bring her back."
"All right," the Brigadier said, "I'll do it…after you tell us who she was. Is. Will be. You get the idea."
"She?" the Doctor said. "What 'she'? There's no 'she.'"
"Doctor, please," the Brigadier said. "I may be only human, but I am not an idiot. You were most definitely embracing someone before you arrived here. We're all men, here, Doctor, so I don't think it would hurt the space time continuum if you gave us some details."
"There's nothing to tell, Brigadier! Cross my hearts and hope to turn into a jawa the next time I regenerate."
"Have it your way. Come along, Mr. Benton." The two men began to stroll out of the lab.
"She was an alien!" the Doctor said.
The Brigadier and Benton spun on their heels to cross back to the Doctor. Both men smiled slightly. The Brigadier said, "Go on."
"Very dangerous alien," the doctor said. "A species we've yet to encounter. Not for some time."
"I see," the Brigadier said. "And where did you…" He cleared his throat. "…'encounter' this dangerous alien?"
"In a cemetery, Brigadier. In New York City. In the middle of the night."
"I see. And was anyone else there, Doctor? Companions, UNIT personnel, that sort of thing?"
"Uh…no. We were all alone."
"In a cemetery," the Brigadier said. "In New York. In the middle of the night. All alone. With a dangerous female alien."
"Yes," the Doctor said. "That's all I can tell you. But it's not what you think. Honest."
"Very well then," the Brigadier said. "Show me what button to push and we'll see you get back to your 'encounter.'"
"Rasilon's rod…"
8
8
From Benton's perspective, the Tardis rumbled, faded, and then became solid again. The Brigadier stepped out, shut the door behind him, and made sure it was locked.
Benton said, "So he's back in the future?"
"Yes," the Brigadier answered. "Apparently he wanted to get back to UNIT and he couldn't take the Tardis all the way."
"What do you make of that, sir? What do you think the ol' Doc's into? Or will get into?"
"No idea, Mr. Benton, and you and I must never discuss the situation again *ever,* starting right now. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. That said, mark my words, someday, I'll find out what that was all about. And if not me, then another Lethbridge-Stewart will. Count on it."