I own nothing except for the Guardian, Lady Ariana, and the twins. If I did own Doctor Who, Martha would have gotten more acknowledgment for how much she helped the Doctor heal, instead of all the credit going to Rose.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
The Guardian was nearing her end.
At least, that's what she hoped.
Especially since the Doctor had hidden all of her guns while she slept. Granted, she had nearly shot him for touching her.
The last month of pregnancy was even more hellish than she remembered it being last time. So much for her eidetic memory.
The first seven months of a Gallifreyan pregnancy were easy—illness was rare, there were no mood swings, maybe a tiny bit of back pain that was mostly unnoticeable.
But the entire last month was actually the early stages of labor—and suddenly the mood swings came out full force along with very frequent back pain. The Guardian had spent most of the last two weeks crying from the combination of pain and hormones. Somehow, her back had managed to hurt in the one place where she hadn't built up a high pain tolerance.
And she still had two more weeks to go.
That thought alone made her want to cry again. Or shoot something. If only the Doctor hadn't refused to give her guns back until after her hormones calmed down again.
He had been fortunate that she was in too much pain to hit him for that comment.
'Anytime you're ready, dearies' she commented to the twins through their connection.
The only response was a strong sense of annoyance. Clearly the twins were as eager to be out of their misery as she was. She couldn't even appreciate that Gallifreyan pregnancies carried far smaller than human pregnancies, sparing her the swollen ankles and feeling like a star whale.
She finished drying her hair from the most recent hot bath the TARDIS had provided her with. At least the old time machine was sympathetic to her misery. Not that the Doctor didn't try. But the last time he'd had to deal with a pregnant wife, he had been the insanely young age of 110. It had been a while.
And she really doubted the Gentle had ever tried to shoot him.
The Guardian finished dressing as quickly as her back would let her and made her way to the console room, which was lit up in green from the TARDIS's time rotor. She smiled slightly. Green was a calming color for her.
A particularly bad pain hit her, causing her to grip the edge of the console as hard as she could. She flinched when the Doctor appeared beside her and began gently massaging her lower back.
"Eltanin, please, take us somewhere. I don't care where, just as long as it distracts me." She spoke through clenched teeth. A moment later, the pain lessened back to a dull ache and she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Alright." He moved away from her to set coordinates. "Setting coordinates to random."
The Guardian nodded weakly, pleased when the pain completely subsided. She would have a few hours before the pain got really bad again, and she desperately needed to get out. They hadn't left the Vortex in the last two weeks, and even in a time machine with infinite rooms, claustrophobia could set in.
The TARDIS landed more gently than usual and the Doctor came back over to check the monitor. The Guardian glanced at it also, noting the date and location.
"Seems safe enough," the Doctor commented.
"The day Earth's sun finally expands and destroys the Earth? Safe?"
He nodded, pulling up the schematics of Platform One, where they had landed. "Heat shields. High security. Nothing could go wrong."
The Guardian groaned. "I hope for all our sakes you didn't just jinx this trip."
"Oi!" He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her expanded waist. Together, they made their way out of the TARDIS.
They stepped out into a large, empty room with a window taking up nearly an entire wall. Outside of the window was Earth, looking exactly like it had five billion years ago.
The Doctor glanced at his watch. "Hold on."
Suddenly, the sun flared red and began its expansion.
"So, gravity satellites holding the sun back?" the Guardian guessed, resting her head against the Doctor's shoulder. Two weeks of desperation to distract herself had resulted in her reading a fair amount of the books in the TARDIS library. She had actually learned quite a bit, thanks to her eidetic memory helping her retain the information.
She felt him nod. "By this point, the Earth has been the property of the National Trust. They've kept the sun back, and shifted the continents so it looks like 'Classic Earth'."
"Classic Earth. Meaning, how it looked when mankind first started making their way into space?"
"Yep."
~"Shuttles five and six now docking."~
"What do you say we go and meet the other guests?" The Doctor asked.
The Guardian frowned. "What for? They're all just a bunch of wealthy snobs who are only here for the fun and so they can be seen at the right events."
"You never know," the Doctor replied. "There might be someone interesting here." Using his arm around her waist, the Doctor pulled her away from the window and down a corridor. A few doors needing to be sonicked later and they came to the main observation room.
The enormous room was empty aside from a few display cases. The Guardian slipped away from the Doctor to look at the objects. They were mostly boring, rocks and fossils and things, except for one.
A bright red fez.
The Guardian frowned and read the small plaque beside it.
Believed to have belonged to the ancient organization, UNIT.
She groaned and glanced at her husband, who was looking at some of the other display cases. There was only one reason that UNIT would have a fez.
At some point in the future, her husband regenerated into a lunatic. In a fez. She made a quick mental note to make sure that every fez in the wardrobe were burned.
"Who the hell are you?" The Guardian turned to see a man—at least she assumed it was a man—with very blue skin and golden eyes with slit-shaped pupils like a cat's. He wore a baggy suit-like outfit.
"Oh, that's nice. Thanks." The Doctor said sarcastically, hurrying over to reach the Guardian before the man did.
"We are guests," the Guardian said. She guessed that the man was a steward or something. "My husband has our invitation."
'Psychic paper. Left pocket.' She added in the Doctor's mind.
He grinned at her and showed the steward the psychic paper. "There, you see? It's fine. The Doctor and the Guardian." He slipped his arm around the Guardian's waist. "I'm the Doctor, and this is the wife, the Guardian. Is that all right?"
The steward looked slightly shocked. "Well, obviously. Apologies, et cetera. If you're on board, we'd better start. Enjoy."
The Doctor grinned tensely and nodded as the steward moved over to a lectern. The Guardian took the psychic paper from him and tucked it back in his pocket, missing her own leather jacket. Rather than empty the pockets, the Doctor had just hidden the entire coat. At least she had only worn the jacket for the look, rather like he did his.
Though she did plan to steal his jacket sometime, just for revenge.
The steward spoke. "We have in attendance the Doctor and the Guardian. Thank you. All staff to their positions." He clapped twice and a couple dozen shorter, blue-skinned people appeared, all of them wearing black outfits and helmets. They chattered and made their way to their positions in a manner that reminded the Guardian of the time the Doctor had convinced her to go to the premiere of The Wizard of Oz in 1939.
His taste in films had gone on her 'Not To Be Trusted' list, along with his taste in food.
"And now, might I introduce the next honored guest? Representing the Forest of Cheem, we have trees. Namely, Jabe, Lute, and Coffa."
The doors opened and three tree-like humanoids, two males and a female, walked in. The Guardian noted that the males looked more like bodyguards, especially as they walked a couple of steps behind the female tree, dressing in black attire that resembled armor.
The steward said something about exchanging gifts, making the Guardian stiffen. No matter what people claimed, an exchanging of gifts was the easiest way to sneak in a bomb, poison, or some other form of weapon.
An alien on a transport pod entered. The Moxx of Balhoon. He was followed by a group of six bipeds in black robes that hid every feature. The Adherents of the Repeated Meme. The Guardian watched them as they made their way into the room. Something was definitely wrong with them. They didn't move naturally, so they were mostly likely robots. And what was a meme anyway? She had heard the term used on Earth, but she had never bothered to learn what it meant.
The Doctor nudged her gently as the trio of trees approached.
"The gift of peace," the female, Jabe, spoke. "I bring you a cutting of my grandfather."
The Guardian accepted the small potted tree, glancing over it to ensure there was nothing obviously dangerous. It could have been in the soil, but she figured the trees might get offended if she started digging through the soil right in front of them.
"Thank you. Yes, gifts." The Doctor patted his pockets with his free hand, the other still around her waist. Apparently finding nothing, he replied, "Er, I give you in return..air from my lungs."
The Guardian rolled her eyes as he leaned forward just enough to exhale in the direction of Jabe.
The tree looked surprised and flustered. "How intimate."
"There's more where that came from," the Doctor replied.
The Guardian stiffened at the Doctor's unintentional flirting and glanced away, stinging her eyes. She really hated these late-pregnancy hormones. They stole away her logic, which told her that the Doctor meant nothing by it, and left her a weak puddle of easily hurt feelings.
Trying to distract herself, the Guardian focused on the latest guest to enter.
"All the way from the Silver Devastation, the sponsor of the main event. Please welcome… the Face of Boe, and his goddaughter, Lady Ariana."
A disembodied humanoid head, the size of an adult human, suspended in a glass case barely made it through the doorway. The aptly named Face of Boe was followed, then joined, by a pretty young ginger. Her long brown leather vest and knee-length, multi-layered ruffled shirt didn't fit with the rest of the guests. In fact, it vaguely looked Victorian and yet futuristic, in a style the Doctor had once called "Steampunk".
The Guardian jumped as saliva hit her cheek.
"Thank you very much." She heard the slight chuckle in the Doctor's voice, which nearly started her tears all over again. She was really ready to be done with this pregnancy.
The Adherents of the Repeated Meme approached. Even closer, the Guardian still couldn't see anything under their robes. Her suspicions about them being robots were confirmed when one held out a metal ball, revealing a robotic arm with large metal talons.
As soon as they were past, the Guardian shifted to slip the tree cutting into the Doctor's pocket and dig the sonic screwdriver out.
'What are you doing?'
She just winked at him and gave the ball a short pulse from the sonic, just enough to fry whatever mechanics were inside it. With a grin, she tossed to the Doctor. He caught it with his free hand.
"A gift of peace in all good faith." She repeated the words of the black-robed Adherents.
'You know I don't like gift exchanges, Eltanin, especially when I can't even see the faces of the givers.'
The Doctor nodded in understanding just as the Steward spoke again.
"And last but not least—our very special guest. Ladies and gentlemen and trees and multiforms, consider the Earth below. In memory of this dying world, we call forth… the Last Human. The Lady Cassandra O'Brien Dot Delta Seventeen."
A flesh-colored trampoline with eyes and lipstick was wheeled in, two men in white surgical uniforms following in its wake. The Guardian frowned at how the uniforms covered them completely, just like the Adherents' robes.
"Oh, now, don't stare." The trampoline spoke. "I know, I know—it's shocking, isn't it?"
Beside the Guardian, the Doctor was failing at hiding his laughter. She elbowed him in the ribs, now annoyed.
"Shocking is one word for it." The Guardian heard a Scottish accent mutter. She glanced over to see that Lady Ariana nearby. The ginger also looked less than impressed by the "last human".
"Look how thin I am," the trampoline was saying. "Thin and dainty. I don't look a day over two thousand. Moisturize me. Moisturize me."
One of the attendants sprayed her down with some sort of hydrating liquid.
'If that's what two thousand years old looked like,' the Guardian muttered to the Doctor. 'Then you look pretty good. I think.'
'Don't I just?' A moment passed, then: 'Oi!'
The Guardian smirked a little, pleased at having gotten a little tease about his real age in. She let him tell everyone that he was nine hundred years old, because she realized why he did it. She let him tell everyone that she was 586 years old because she didn't want everyone thinking she was nearly twice his age.
But that didn't mean that she wasn't going to tease him about how old he really was every now and then.
She shifted her attention back to the trampoline with delusions of humanity.
"Truly, I am the Last Human."
The Guardian rolled her eyes. She heard Lady Ariana muttering some more under her breath.
"My father was a Texan; my mother was from the Arctic Desert. They were born on the Earth and were the last to be buried in its soil. I have come to honor them and say goodbye." The trampoline began sniffling—or at least she would have been sniffling if she had enough of a nose to do so. One of her attendants pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "Oh, no tears, no tears. I'm sorry."
The Guardian leaned against the Doctor. 'Please spare me from the trampoline's theatrics.'
The Doctor grinned down at her. 'What? You're not impressed by the 'last human'?'
'When I said I wanted a distraction, I didn't mean an overly dramatic piece of skin with eyes and a mouth. And how the hell is she even able to speak? She doesn't have any vocal cords.'
He shrugged. The Guardian rolled her eyes again and looked at the large egg what one of the staff showed everyone.
She frowned suspiciously. An egg really survived intact for billions of years? And they were handling it so carelessly?
"Legend says it had a wingspan of fifty feet and blew fire from its nostrils. Or was that my third husband?" Lady Trampoline laughed at her own joke. "Oh, no. Oh, don't laugh! I'll get laughter lines."
The Doctor was the only one laughing. Most of the other guests looked shocked, while Lady Ariana's annoyance mirrored the Guardian's.
Trampoline finally seemed to realize her own faux pas. "Mercy!" She muttered, then cleared her throat… wherever that was. "And here, another rarity."
A couple of the staff wheeled in a… jukebox? The Guardian shook her head. The things that survived time.
"According to the archives, this was called an iPod. It store classical music from humanity's greatest composers. Play on!"
A button was pressed, a record selected, and 'Tainted Love' began playing. The Doctor grinned, and suddenly the Guardian found herself being pulled over to a clear area of the room. The Doctor spun her around so she was facing him.
'Don't you are…' She threatened, realizing what he wanted to do.
'Come on, Amadahy. Dance with me?' He smiled softly.
She shook her head, not quite able to believe that she was giving in so easily. 'Fine.'
With a grin, the Doctor led her in a dance that matched the song's rhythm and also his dancing skills—such as they were. The Guardian actually found herself enjoying their impromptu dance, so she laughed rather loudly when the Doctor tripped over air. He chuckled in response.
When the music finished, they sort of collapsed against a column, the Doctor leaning against it, the Guardian leaning against him, her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her so his hands were on her stomach, and he rested his cheek against her head. The Guardian smiled and placed her hands on top of his. They stood in silence and watched the other guests exchange gifts.
~"Earth Death in twenty-five minutes."~
Lady Ariana walked over, smiling softly. "A gift of peace from the Face of Boe." She held out two small silver pendants.
The Guardian accepted them, noting that they were shaped like crescent moons, and were inlaid with purple and blue.
"There's a tradition among my people," Lady Ariana explained. "They believe if you hang one of these above a child's cradle, the child will venture far and wide, yet they will always return to their family."
The Guardian blinked. How did she…?
"How did you know?" The Doctor asked for her.
Lady Ariana smiled. "I guessed. I suppose you remind me of my parents. When my mother was pregnant with my sister, my father always held her like that. Only the height difference was a lot more drastic than with you two." She laughed, then suddenly turned to look at the Face of Boe. "I need to go. My godfather needs me."
The Guardian and the Doctor both nodded and she hurried off.
"Interesting young woman." The Doctor mused. "Did she seem familiar at all to you?"
The Guardian nodded slowly. "Just a little."
~"Would the owner of the blue box in private gallery 15 please report to the steward's office immediately?"~
The Guardian looked away from the ginger. "I suppose that's us." She straightened, pulling herself out of the Doctor's arms. She looked back to see him frowning. "We need to go make sure they don't do something strange with the TARDIS."
As it turned out, the staff wanted to move the TARDIS. The Doctor gave his permission and promptly dragged the Guardian back out of the steward's office. On their way back to the observation gallery, they passed a group of the small staff wheeling the TARDIS away.
"I don't want to see any scratches," the Guardian called to them. "Make sure to park it properly."
One of the staff walked over and handed her a ticket, mumbling in its language. On one side of the ticket was a bunch of numbers; the other side read, Have a nice day.
The Guardian frowned a little, glancing up as she heard a metallic skittering. There was nothing.
Still frowning, she allowed the Doctor to pull her along back to the main room.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
They had just reached the observation gallery when suddenly the entire Platform shook. There were a couple of screams, but everyone remained on their feet. Even so, the Doctor's arm around the Guardian's waist tightened.
"That's not supposed to happen." He muttered.
"I should have known," the Guardian groaned. He looked at her quizzically. "Nothing is ever a simple thing with you. I really should have figured that one out when I realized I was pregnant with twins."
He just grinned and kissed her.
They heard the steward's falsely calm voice over the announcement system. ~"Honored guests may be reassured that gravity pockets may cause slight turbulence. Thanking you."~
The Guardian pulled the Doctor over to a computer monitor. "That didn't feel like a gravity pocket, don't you think?" She touched the screen, looking for the mainframe.
"Definitely didn't feel like a gravity pocket. Any thoughts, Jabe?"
The Guardian stiffened and looked behind her. The female tree had joined them. Great. Just what she needed right now.
The Doctor continued, "Listen to the engines. They've pitched up about 30 Hertz."
"Thirty-three," the Guardian corrected.
The Doctor grinned at her. "That dodgy or what?"
Jabe shrugged. "It's the sound of metal. It doesn't make any sense to me."
"Where's the engine room?" The Doctor asked.
"I don't know. But the maintenance duct is just behind our guest suite. I could show you and your..."
"Wife," the Guardian supplied with a forced smile. "Show us." She took the Doctor's hand and pulled him out of the room, Jabe following.
~"Earth Death in fifteen minutes."~
GD~GD~GD~GD~
The Guardian heard a metallic skittering again as they stepped inside the maintenance duct, which was really more of a corridor. She breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't going to have to crawl through shafts. Her back was beginning to ache again, and she knew that she couldn't have crawled at this point.
"So who's in charge of Platform One?" The Doctor asked Jabe. "Is there a captain or what?"
"There's just the steward and the staff. All the rest is controlled by the metal mind."
"You mean the computer," the Guardian replied. "But who controls that?"
"The Corporation. They move Platform One from one artistic event to another." Jabe responded.
"Artistic—"
"But there's no one from the Corporation on board." The Doctor interrupted the Guardian.
'I know, Amadahy, I know.'
'Seriously, though? They think the burning of a several billion year-old planet is an "artistic event"?'
"They're not needed," Jabe spoke, not realizing that they were talking to each other. "This facility is purely automatic. It's the height of the Alpha class. Nothing can go wrong." Jabe finished confidently.
The Guardian snorted. She'd heard that before.
"Unsinkable?" The Doctor asked.
"If you like. The nautical metaphor is appropriate."
"You're telling me!" The Doctor replied. "We were on board another ship once. They said that was unsinkable. We ended up clinging to an iceberg."
The Guardian snorted again. "I nearly got hypothermia, which I thought my training had made impossible, so thanks for that." She stopped and looked behind her to glare weakly at the Doctor.
He grimaced. 'Sorry?'
'I still can't believe that I let you talk me into that! It's a good thing the TARDIS likes me enough to save us from that iceberg.'
Now he grinned. 'But you have to admit that warming up afterwards was very enjoyable.'
She rolled her eyes and shifted her attention to the very confused-looking tree. "So, Jabe, what you're saying is that if we get into trouble, there's no one qualified to help us out on board?"
"I'm afraid not." She replied.
"Fantastic!" The Doctor took the lead.
"I don't understand," Jabe said to the Guardian. "In what way is that fantastic?"
The Guardian shook her head. "The worse it gets, the more he loves it."
"Oi!" The Doctor shouted from ahead of them.
The Guardian rolled her eyes and the two female aliens followed him.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
"So, Jabe, what are you doing here?" The Guardian asked. Ever since the tree had learned the Guardian was the Doctor's wife, she had backed off with her flirting and focused more on the Guardian. Now the Guardian was starting to like the tree.
"Respect for the Earth."
"Oh, come on!" The Doctor scoffed. "Everyone on this platform is worth zillions."
"Well, perhaps it's a case of having to be seen at the right occasions."
The Guardian nodded, understanding. The various Lord Presidents she had served had been in a similar situation, although they rarely left the planet.
"In case your share prices drop?" The Doctor replied doubtfully. "I know you lot. You've got massive forests everywhere—roots everywhere! And there's always money in land."
"All the same, we respect the Earth as family," Jabe said, smiling. "So many species evolved from that planet. Mankind is only one. I'm another. My ancestors were transplanted from the planet down below, and I'm a direct descendant of the tropical rainforest."
The Doctor shrugged, conceding her point. The Guardian noticed a door panel, and she pulled the sonic screwdriver out of the Doctor's pocket to begin working on it.
"And what about your ancestry?" Jabe continued slowly. "Perhaps you both could tell a story or two."
The Guardian stiffened, then muttered a curse as the panel read "access denied".
"Perhaps a man only enjoys trouble when there's nothing else left, and his mate joins him because they only have each other."
The Doctor stepped slightly closer to the Guardian and laid his hand on her belly. She bit her lip, the hormones making her eyes sting.
"I scanned you earlier—while you were dancing. The metal machine had trouble identifying your species. It refused to admit your existence. And even when it named you, I wouldn't believe it. But it was right. I know where you're from!"
The Guardian felt the Doctor tremble beside her. She forced herself to continue focusing on the panel, rather than looking at him. They were almost through.
She could hear the sadness in Jabe's voice as the tree kept talking. "Forgive me for intruding, but it's remarkable that one of you exists, let alone two of you!" She paused. "I just wanted to say… how sorry I am." She placed a hand on the Guardian's shoulder.
The Guardian glanced at the bark-like hand, then back at the panel. One more pulse and the door opened. Jabe went through first.
The Doctor started to follow her, but the Guardian grabbed his coat. She pushed him back against the opposite wall and kissed him until she felt the tension leave his shoulders. Then she pulled back a little and wiped the tears from his eyes.
"You did it in the name of peace and sanity, Eltanin," she repeated the words he had told her two months before, after her nightmare. "There was no other choice."
He kissed her again, then his hands and gave shifted to her belly. "Because of me, the only home the twins will ever know is the TARDIS."
"And the Earth," the Guardian insisted. "I'm certain they will spend plenty of time at Sarah's home."
"But the red grass…and the silver trees… my family's estates on the slopes of Mount Perdition..."
"Were all destroyed during the War." The Guardian interrupted his nostalgia. "Through us, the twins will get to imagine Gallifrey as it was, not as what it became. They will never have to endure the torture and fear of standing before the Untempered Schism, and our son will certainly not have to endure the same pressures that you did as a male heir of the House of Lungbarrow."
"Guardian! Doctor!" They heard Jabe call.
The Guardian waited for the Doctor's response. Slowly, he nodded, then kissed her one more time. Hand-in-hand, they slipped through the door into the engine room.
Jabe looked at them curiously, but they chose to ignore her questioning looks, focusing on the enormous fans suspended just over a catwalk. The Guardian noticed a large switch on the other side of the fans and groaned quietly. Why did something tell her that they were going to need to get to that switch later?
She rubbed her back as there was a tiny sharp pain.
"Is it me, or is it a bit nippy?" The Doctor commented. "Fair dos, though. That's a great bit of air-conditioning. Sort of nice and old-fashioned. Bet they call it retro." He said to the Guardian.
The Guardian smiled, grateful to see him going back to his normal self, and used the sonic screwdriver to scan a nearby panel. She pulled it off. A metal spider skittered past them and up a wall. So that was what had been making the noise she kept hearing. And she thought the hormones were making her lose her mind.
"What the hell's that?" The Doctor asked.
Jabe chimed in, "Is that part of the retro?"
"Unfortunately not," the Guardian replied. "I'd say that's our saboteur. Or at least one of them. So how to get it back down..." She looked at the Doctor. "You should be regretting stealing my stun pistol right about now."
He smiled tightly. Suddenly, Jabe shot out a liana, striking the spider. It fell directly into the Guardian's hand.
She nodded, impressed. "Good shot."
Jabe smiled. "Thank you. I'm not supposed to show them in public."
"Don't worry, we won't tell anybody," the Doctor promised.
"This is made to sabotage," the Guardian said, looking at the metal spider. "And the temperature's about to get very hot. So who brought a few pets on board?"
~"Earth Death in ten minutes."~
GD~GD~GD~GD~
The Guardian led the way to the steward's office. The corridor was filled with smoke and coughing assistants. She took one deep breath and began coughing as well. After eight hundred years of war, the smell of burning flesh was unmistakeable. She felt sick.
She held her breath, letting her respiratory bypass system kick in, and sonicked the door panel.
~"Sun filter rising. Sun filter rising."~
"Is the steward in there?" Jabe asked, horrified.
"What do you think that smell is?" The Guardian asked. She took off towards the observation gallery.
~"Earth Death in five minutes."~
GD~GD~GD~GD~
The Guardian strode into the crowded observation gallery, the Doctor and Jabe in her wake. She held up the spider. "Look at what we found in the engine room. Seems someone's little pets have been busy infiltrating Platform One."
Several guests gasped in horror.
"How's that possible?" The trampoline asked. "Our private rooms are protected by a code wall." She frantically told her attendants to moisturize her.
"Summon the steward!" The Moxx of Balhoon demanded.
"Dead." The Guardian snapped.
Now everyone gasped, and several exclaimed in outrage.
"Who killed him?" The Moxx asked.
The trampoline spoke. "This whole event was sponsored by the Face of Boe. He invited us! Talk to the Face!"
The Face of Boe groaned and shook… well, his head.
Lady Ariana placed a hand on the glass and crouched down. The Guardian watched her telepathically communicate with her godfather for a moment, then she stood, her outrage clear. "If anyone dares accuse my godfather of sabotage and murder again..."
She pulled a sonic blaster out of a holster on her hip that the Guardian realized had been hidden by a perception filter and pointed it at Trampoline. There were a few screams. Lady Ariana smiled coldly. "I never liked following the rules."
"There's an easier way to find out." The Guardian interrupted. She had a rather shocking idea of who Lady Ariana might be, and she felt the need to protect the girl. "I just have to program the spider to return to its master." She sonicked the spider and set it down.
The spider made its way over to Lady Trampoline and scanned her. Everyone turned to her questioningly, but then the spider scurried over the Adherents of the Repeated Meme.
Unsurprising.
She nodded at the Doctor. His turn, since he refused to let her put herself in deliberate danger. Though being married to him was practically putting herself in deliberate danger, with the trouble he tended to attract whenever he stepped outside their door.
"That's all very well, and really kind of obvious, but if you stop and think about it..."
He made his way over to the black-robed crowd. The leader tried to hit him, but he simply caught the arm and ripped it off. The Guardian smiled, pleased that he actually remembered how to do that trick that she taught him before the War.
"A Repeated Meme is just an idea," he continued. "And that's all they are: an idea." He ripped off one of the loose wires. The Adherents collapsed, powering down.
"Remote-controlled Droids. Such a nice, tidy cover for the real troublemaker." The Guardian went over and linked her arm with the Doctor's. She barely hid her grimace as she felt another stab of pain.
"Go on, Jimbo. Go home." The Doctor pushed the spider forward with his foot.
Just as the Guardian expected, the spider returned to the Trampoline. She glared at the Doctor. "I bet you were the school swot and never got kissed."
The Doctor gave her an offended look.
The Guardian snorted. "More like he was the insane one who got married when he was barely old enough to do so without his parents' consent."
"Oi!"
"At arms!" The Trampoline's attendants raised the sprayers.
"What're you going to do? Moisturize us?" The Doctor asked sarcastically.
The Guardian winced as she felt another pain. Then she realized what was happening. Oh, if there had been any doubt that the twins were the Doctor's children, those concerns would have died as she realized that they definitely inherited their father's sense of timing.
"With acid." Lady Trampoline replied. "Oh, you're too late, anyway. My spiders have control of the mainframe. Oh, you all carried them as gifts, tax free, past every code wall. I'm not just a pretty face."
"You're not even that," Lady Ariana snapped.
Trampoline glared at the girl.
"Sabotaging a ship while you're still inside it?" The Doctor said, drawing her attention away from Lady Ariana. "How stupid's that?"
"I'd hoped to manufacture and hostage situation with myself as one of the victims. The compensation would have been enormous."
The Guardian sighed, disgusted. "Five billion years, and it still all comes down to money."
"Do you think it's cheap, looking like this?" Lady Trampoline snapped. "Flatness costs a fortune! I am the Last Human, Guardian."
"Arrest her! The infidel!" The Moxx shouted. The other guests chimed in their agreement.
"Oh, shut it, pixie! I've still got my final option."
~"Earth Death in three minutes."~
"And here it comes! You're just as useful dead, all of you. I have shares in your rival companies. And they'll triple in price as soon as you're dead. My spiders are primed and ready to destroy the safety systems. How did that old Earth song go? 'Burn, baby, burn.'"
"Then you'll burn with us." Jabe sneered over the panicked murmurs of the other guests.
The Guardian narrowed her eyes. "Except that she sneaked a teleporter on, didn't you?"
"Oh, the redhead is right. The Face's little goddaughter isn't the only one who likes to be naughty. Spiders, activate."
The Platform shook with a series of explosions. The Guardian tightened her grip on the Doctor's arm to keep her balance.
"Forcefields gone with the planet about to explode... At least it'll be quick. Just like my fifth husband. Oh, shame on me." She laughed. "Bye-bye, darlings!"
The trampoline and her attendants teleported away.
~"Heat levels rising."~
The Guardian released the Doctor's arm. "Alright, time to reset the computer." She strode towards the door, the Doctor close behind her. They had to finish this as soon as possible. And not just because of the exploding sun.
"Only the steward would know how!" Jabe shouted after them.
"There's a switch in the engine room," the Guardian paused at the door. "I can do it by hand. Stay here, Jabe. The engine room is going to be hot."
"You lot, just chill." The Doctor added, making the Guardian roll her eyes.
They hurried through the door, and broke into a run.
~"Heat rising. Earth Death in two minutes."~
They reached the engine room as the computer announced that the heat levels were critical. "The switch is on the other side of the fans."
"Just our luck." The Doctor muttered, looking at the rapidly moving fan blades.
"You mean your luck."
"Oi!"
~"Heat levels rising."~
The Guardian went over to a breaker lever and pulled it. The fans slowed, but the moment she released the lever, they sped up again.
~"External temperature, five thousand degrees."~
The Guardian weighed their options. She could go through the fans with the Doctor holding the lever down, but with the way her contractions were going, she should be getting a big one soon. Even a small one would slow her down, and they couldn't afford that.
Her decision made, she pulled the lever back down. "Go! And hurry!"
The Doctor only hesitated for a moment.
~"Heat levels hazardous."~
The Doctor made it past the first fan.
A moment later, he passed the second one. Two more left.
~"Heat levels critical."~
Then another. One left.
Sweat made her grip on the lever loosen.
~"Heat levels rising."~
Suddenly, pain exploded in the Guardian's back, like someone had kicked her from behind. She collapsed on the ground and curled into a ball.
'Amadahy!'
'Just get to the switch, Eltanin!'
'I can't.'
The panic in his voice made her uncurl from her fetal position just enough to look. The fan blades had sped up until they were a blur. Impossible to get through. Unless…
'Eltanin, you know how to do this.'
'I learned in school, Amadahy! I never actually had to do it!'
~"Planet explodes in ten… nine… eight…"~
He needed to to think of anything else, the Guardian began singing an old Gallifreyan lullaby, one that her mother had taught her.
~" seven… six… five..."
'I'm through!'
~"Four..."~
The Guardian breathed a sigh of relief and lowered her face down to the floor, tightening her position as more contractions hit her. At her best guess, she still had an hour.
~"Three… two..."~
"Raise shields!" She heard the Doctor shout.
~"One."~
Even in the engine room, the Guardian heard the Earth explode. But they survived.
"Amadahy!" She heard the Doctor run over to her.
She shifted just enough to see his face as he knelt down beside her. "Your children inherited your timing."
He eyes widened as he realized what she meant. "Alright then, it's time to finish this." As gently as he could, he gathered her into his arms. Even so, she hissed in pain. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
The Guardian gripped the lapel of his jacket tight enough that she wondered if it was going to tear off. She tried to relax, resting her head on his shoulder while he carried her back to the observation gallery. Once there, he took over to Lady Ariana and the Face of Boe.
"Will you be okay?" he whispered.
She nodded. He set her down and nodded Lady Ariana over. The girl slipped underneath Guardian's arm and wrapped her arm around the Guardian's waist to help bear her weight.
"Keep her safe." The Doctor told Lady Ariana.
The girl nodded.
He kissed the Guardian. "I love you." Then he walked over to the center of the room.
Jabe hurried over. "Guardian, what's wrong?" She moved to the Guardian's other side, to assist Lady Ariana.
The Guardian smiled weakly. "It seems my soon-to-be born twins inherited their father's sense of timing. Except they're early, whereas he's always late."
Lady Ariana gasped. "You're—"
"About to give birth? Yep." The Guardian hissed as another contraction hit. Now she was starting to doubt that she had an hour.
A flash of light made the Guardian look up, just as the Trampoline appeared, sans attendants.
"Oh." She said.
"The Last Human," the Doctor spat.
"So, you passed my little test." Lady Trampoline said, clearly flustered. "Bravo. This makes you eligible to join, um… the… the Human Club."
"People have died, Cassandra. You murdered them!"
The Guardian glanced around the room to see that there had been several injured, and a few killed, including the Moxx of Balhoon. She looked at the two women beside her, noting a painful-looking burn on Lady Ariana's hand.
"It depends on your definition of people! And that's enough of a technicality to keep your lawyers dizzy for centuries! Take me to court, then, Doctor, and watch me smile and cry… and flutter..."
"And creak?" The Doctor asked.
"And what?"
The Guardian noticed it too. A creaking noise.
"Creak," the Doctor repeated. "You're creaking."
The trampoline panicked. "What? I'm drying out!" Her speech became labored. "Oh… sweet heavens… Moisturize me! Moisturize me! Where are my surgeons? My lovely boys! It's too hot!"
"You raised the temperature," the Doctor stated.
"Have pity!" Trampoline cried.
The Doctor walked back over to the Guardian. Lady Ariana and Jabe moved aside, so the Guardian could fall into his arms.
"I trust you can handle things from here?" He asked them.
They must have agreed and the Guardian simply missed it, because the Doctor gathered her up into his arms and carried her back to the TARDIS.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
An hour later, the Guardian lay in the TARDIS medical bay, holding her ten-minute-old son in shaky arms. The Doctor sat on the bed beside her, one arm around her shoulders, the other holding their twenty-minute-old daughter.
Both infants were small, a little more than three pounds, but that was normal for Gallifreyan twins. Curled up as they were, neither one was much bigger than the Doctor's hand.
Sarah Jane returned carrying a trap of tea things. They had barely made it in time to pick up the twins' godmother, but she had been able to be there. The Guardian smiled slightly. Her calm presence had probably kept the Doctor alive during the worst of the labor.
"So, have you thought of names?" Sarah asked. "I know that he's only ten minutes old, but you've had six months to think about this."
"We have Gallifreyan names picked out." The Doctor told her. "Even though tradition says that we should have waited until they were actually born."
The Guardian smiled. Actually, picking Gallifreyan names had been easy. Since all the heirs of the House of Lungbarrow were named after stars, they had chosen the name Adhara for their daughter, and Wesen for their son. Both were names of stars in the constellation Canis Majoris, just like the Doctor and his twin brother Rastaban had been named for stars in the constellation Draco.
"But you can't tell me." Sarah Jane guessed.
The Guardian's smile faded a little. Under normal circumstances, they could have told her the names they chose for her godchildren. But when the Doctor was exiled from Gallifrey for the last time, when he fled the Time War, the High Council had declared him one of the Nameless. For the rest of his life, only his immediate family and one other living person—the person he trusted most—could know his true name.
As his wife, she had joined him in that exile. And now, their children were also born Nameless, through no choice of their own.
"We did decide to chose human names for them," the Doctor said, pulling the Guardian out of her thoughts.
Their son squirmed a little bit. The Guardian shifted him so he was laying against her chest. "But real human names. Nothing like 'John Smith'."
"Oi! I'll have you know, that name has served me very well."
The Guardian and Sarah Jane exchanged amused glances.
"So, do you have any human names picked out?" The human asked, pouring herself a cup of tea.
Neither adult Gallifreyan spoke.
"No?" Sarah Jane smiled at them. "Surely you must have some ideas."
"Well..." the Doctor began. "I've been thinking about the name Gwyneth."
The Guardian smiled. "After Gwyneth from Cardiff?"
He nodded.
"Our first date," the Guardian explained to Sarah. "There's a rift in time and space in Cardiff, and an alien species called the Gelth wanted to use it to break through and take over the world. But a young servant girl named Gwyneth stopped them." She looked at her daughter, considering the name. It fit the tiny girl.
'Gwyneth Sarah?' She suggested.
He nodded. "Gwyneth Sarah."
"Oh!" Sarah Jane breathed, tears filling her eyes. "You don't have to do that."
"You saved my life on multiple occasions, Sarah. It's an honor to name my daughter after you."
Sarah Jane wiped her tears away. "It's my honor, too."
The Guardian smiled, realizing that the Doctor just gave her exactly what she need. "And speaking of naming out children after people that have saved our lives, I want to name our son Michael."
It took the Doctor a moment, then he frowned. "You want to name our son after Ricky the Idiot?"
"Mickey," the Guardian corrected. "Without him, we wouldn't have a son. He saved our life both times he helped us. So yes."
She could see the struggle on the Doctor's face before he sighed. "Alright. Michael."
The Guardian smiled and began playing with the tiny bit of dark hair on Michael's head.
"What about Michael Alastair?" Sarah Jane said suddenly.
"After the Brigadier?" The Doctor asked.
She nodded.
"Brigadier Lethridge-Stewart?" The Guardian asked. She remembered the man from the Doctor's memories. A good man. A worthy namesake for her son.
"The man who was always there for me, no matter how dark things got. The man who changed UNIT for the better." The Doctor looked over.
"Michael Alastair." The Guardian said softly. "I like it."
The Doctor kissed her forehead. "Michael Alastair."
The Guardian rested her head against the Doctor's shoulder, tired, but content to watch their newborns sleep.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
Much later, the Guardian woke up in her own bed. She blinked, disoriented for a moment until she remembered begging the Doctor to take her back to their room. She hated hospitals, or anything even remotely like a hospital, and so she preferred to spend as little time as possible in them.
Sarah Jane had gone to her room not long after they named the twins. It seemed that the TARDIS had known she was going to return long before any of the rest of them did, because her bedroom as exactly as she had left it all those years ago, complete with pictures and souvenirs from all the places she visited with the Doctor.
The Guardian noticed that the Doctor's side of the bed was empty and she rolled over.
Her husband was sitting in the chair beside the cot the twins would share for the first few weeks. He was dimly lit by the lamp they had set up there, but she could see that he was watching them.
Her body protesting, the Guardian stood and walked over. The Doctor looked up.
She was started to see the tears steadily streaming down his cheeks. "What's wrong?" she asked.
He shifted, allowing her to sit on his lap, since crouching beside him was definitely not an option.
"Eltanin, talk to me." She rested her forehead against his.
He hesitated. "I just… I can't quite believe it."
"It?"
"They're here."
The Guardian smiled and kissed him, just as Gwyneth woke up and began fussing to be held.
That they were.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
And the twins are here! What do you guys think of the names (both human and Gallifreyan)? And we found out why the Doctor's name is a secret.
Now, who liked the fact that the Guardian kept calling Cassandra "the trampoline" or variations there of? When I was writing the chapter, it just didn't feel right for the Guardian to call her by name.
And, Lady Ariana, well… it's pretty obvious who she is. But I can say, she's not Gwyneth in the future!
By the way, the fez being present in the episode was not my idea. If you look really closely when the Doctor and Rose first enter the main observation gallery, there's a wide shot that shows the whole room. In one of the glass display cases, there's a red cylindrical object that looks a heck of a lot like a fez.
The next chapter is actually going to skip ahead a year, since the Doctor and the Guardian DO plan to stay out of trouble (granted, with the Doctor, that only works so well, hence the fact that the time skip is only a year).
And now we only have three chapters left! Which means… next chapter brings back a few familiar faces… and includes a scene or two that I'm really looking forward to.
Review Notes:
Engine of a Dream: I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter! I was a bit nervous when posting it, because it's more or less an original chapter, and the characters have SO much departed from their normal selves.
Also, I just want to say thanks to NicoleR85 for reviewing every chapter!