I own nothing except for the Guardian and the twins.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
The Guardian heard a faint buzz from the console room. She smiled and finished dressing Gwyneth. At a year old, the little girl was now about the size of a typical human child her age.
"Maiteria, I had the most fantastic dream..." But unlike a human, she could already talk, at least in Gallifreyan. And goodness, she inherited her talkativeness from her father.
Half-listening to her daughter tell all about the dream she had over her nap, the Guardian carried her to the console room. "Jack, get the door. Mickey is approaching."
The 51st Century man put down the tools he had been holding for the Doctor and made his way to the door. A couple of weeks before, he'd gotten into quite a bit of trouble and gave them a call. Even though they weren't traveling a lot, he had asked to stay with them for a bit. The Doctor hadn't even hesitated before agreeing.
The Guardian set Gwyneth down with Michael in the small play area the TARDIS had added off the console area, to keep the twins out of trouble. A wise addition, considering who their father was. Her smile faded a bit as she glanced up at her husband.
He still felt guilty for the way he treated Jack the first time they had met. Never mind that the man didn't remember it. Sometimes, the Guardian wished that Jack would move on, so the Doctor wasn't constantly confronted with the memory of yet another failing of his.
"Who the hell are you?" She heard Jack ask at the door a moment after a knock sounded.
"What do you mean, who the hell am I?" Mickey's voice replied, clearly offended. "Who the hell are you?"
Smiling again, the Guardian hurried over to the console. It had been a while since they saw Mickey; the twins had still been tiny.
"Captain Jack Harkness. Whatever you're selling, we're not buying."
"Get out of my way!" Mickey pushed his way into the TARDIS.
"So this is Mickey," Jack drawled.
"Here comes trouble!" The Doctor called from the top of a ladder, where he was attempting to fix some wires. "How're you doing, Ricky-boy?"
"It's Mickey!" The Guardian corrected at the same time as Mickey. She continued, "Now get down from there before you cut power to the entire TARDIS, like you nearly did last week." She smiled sweetly in response to his one-hearted glare, then turned to Mickey. "How is my son's godfather?"
"Honorary godfather," he replied, then accepted her hug.
She really wasn't a hugger, but the last year as a mum made it easier to make exceptions, like for Mickey.
"That's enough hugging, now," the Doctor almost snapped, his voice sounding closer.
The Guardian rolled her eyes and stepped out of the hug. She looked pointedly at the Doctor. "After a comment like that, you'll have to buy me a drink before you get another hug."
He smirked, knowing exactly where this was going. Immortals couldn't drink alcohol anymore than Time Lords could. "You're such hard work."
"But you know I'm worth it." She winked at him and turned back to Mickey. "How've you been?"
The Doctor came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
"Good," Mickey nodded. "Same as ever."
Meaning that he was still dating Rose, despite the fact that the blonde pudding brain didn't care about him. The Guardian had easily seen that. Rose Tyler had even tried flirting with the Doctor a few times before he shot her down.
Mickey cleared his throat. "So, what're you doing in Cardiff? And who the hell's Jumping Jack Flash? I mean, I know why you hang around Big Ears over there—"
"Oi!" The Doctor protested.
"Look in the mirror." Mickey responded.
The Guardian smirked.
"But this guy? I don't know, he's kinda..."
"Handsome?" Jack supplied.
Now the Guardian rolled her eyes at the man's ego. Goodness, he was spending too much time around the Doctor.
"More like cheesy." Mickey finished.
"Early 21st Century slang. Is 'cheesy' good or bad?" Jack moved to stand next to the console.
"It's bad," the Guardian replied.
"But 'bad' means 'good', isn't that right?"
"Not at all." The Guardian laughed.
"Are you saying I'm not handsome?" The Doctor asked Mickey.
Now the Guardian rolled her eyes and stepped out of her husband's arms. She turned to give him a quick kiss. "You've been spending too much time around humans if that's what's worrying you."
"Maiteria!" Michael cried, making Mickey jump.
The Guardian hurried over to the play area, concerned. Unlike his sister, Michael was more the quiet sort, rather like most of her previous incarnations. He rarely ever cried for her.
She found him crying in the middle, looking like he had been trying to walk and fell. Murmuring softly in Gallifreyan, she picked him up and carried him back up to the console area. "Darling, could you get Gwyneth?"
"Sure." The Doctor made his way to get their daughter.
"We are here to refuel, Mickey," she explained. She caught Michael as he lunged for his namesake, remembering the young man. "You can thank me for sending the Doctor to get Gwyneth and sparing you the big speech he and Jack worked out. They think it's so clever."
"Hey!" Jack protested, at the same time to Doctor brought Gwyneth up. "Oi! I heard that."
"You were supposed to," the Guardian quipped. "You remember the story I told you behind Gwyneth's name?" She asked Mickey.
"Yeah." Michael lunged for Mickey again, so this time the Guardian passed the baby to the young human. He looked slightly surprised when he realized just how big his godson had gotten, but it quickly disappeared.
"Well, closing a rift leaves a scar," the Doctor said, gently bouncing a now-pouting Gwyneth. Even at a year old, the little girl loved hearing the story behind her name.
The edited version, of course.
The Guardian wanted to protect her children from the reality of violence and death for as long as she could.
Jack picked up the explanation. "That scar generates energy. Harmless to the human race—"
"Don't even try to start that, you two." The Guardian glared at Jack and the Doctor. They both gave her nearly identical innocent looks. "Mickey, the energy is perfect for the TARDIS, similar to petrol. So we've parked here for a few days to refuel the engines."
Mickey nodded, then glanced at the Doctor and Jack. "Seriously, how bad was their explanation?"
The Guardian grimaced, remembering the whole day they spent planning it. "Bad."
Hey!"
"Oi!"
GD~GD~GD~GD~
Since they had another 24 hours before the engines had finished refueling, the group decided to go out for lunch. The Gallifreyans changed their twins into warmer clothing, since their physiology couldn't handle cooler temperatures yet, and they all stepped out of the TARDIS.
"That old lady's staring." Mickey commented.
"Probably wondering what four people could do inside a small wooden box." Jack laughed.
"And two toddlers," the Doctor added, trying to lock the door with one hand and hold Gwyneth with the other.
The Guardian smiled at her daughter's antics. There wasn't much that Gwyneth had obviously inherited from her, but her habit of stealing the Doctor's things appeared to be one of them. "Let me, darling." She took the key and locked the door easily.
The Doctor pouted a little. "You have both hands free."
"That's because I choose to use a sling." She pulled a little on the shoulder strap of the strange contraption Sarah Jane had bought her. It held whichever baby she was carrying close to her, chest to chest, allowing her to have both hands free, something that she appreciated. Even though the last year had been peaceful, she had been a soldier for far too long to feel comfortable carrying her son in one hand and having only the other to use if—the Universe forbid—she needed to fight.
The Doctor, on the other hand, refused to use a sling or any other form of carrier, preferring to carry the twins in his arms, as he had once carried Gaiana on Gallifrey.
She smiled and kissed him, then followed after Jack. The Doctor joined her and took her hand.
"Wait," Mickey called behind them, making the adult trio stop. "The TARDIS—we can't just leave it. Doesn't it get noticed?"
Jack nodded slowly. "You know, I've been wondering that same thing."
The Guardian smirked at the Doctor. "Yes, darling. Care to explain why your time machine looks like a bright blue police box, and yet never gets noticed?"
She saw the Doctor start to redden a bit at the neck, especially when the twins chimed in their questions in their childish, poorly enunciated Gallifreyan that sounded like normal baby chatter to human ears.
"It's called a chameleon circuit." He mumbled. When she raised her eyebrows, he picked up his voice. "The TARDIS is meant to disguise itself wherever it lands. Like if this was Ancient Rome, it'd be a statue on a plinth or something. But I landed in the 1960s, it disguised itself as a police box, and the circuit got stuck."
'More like you broke it.'
He weakly glared at her, didn't deny it.
"So it copied a real thing? There actually was police boxes?" Mickey asked incredulously.
"Yeah, on street corners. You could phone for help before they had radios and mobiles. If they arrested somebody, they could shove them inside till help came. Like a little prison cell."
"Why don't you just fix the circuit?" Jack asked.
"He's stubborn."
"Oi!"
"But that's what I meant," Mickey hastily interrupted. "There's no police boxes anymore, so doesn't it get noticed?"
"Mickey," the Doctor gestured for him to start walking. "Let me tell you something about the human race. You put a mysterious blue box slap bang in the middle of town, and what do they do?"
"Walk past it?"
"Exactly," the Doctor nodded, actually impressed. "Now, stop your nagging, and let's go an explore. The twins have never been to Cardiff."
"That's because the last time we were here we nearly died." The Guardian pointed out.
The Doctor slipped his free arm around her shoulders. "But that's not going to happen this time. It's Cardiff, early 21st century, and the wind's in the...east. Trust me. Safest place in the Universe."
The Guardian groaned. "You just jinxed us."
GD~GD~GD~GD~
They ended up finding a nice little restaurant at the end of a small pier. Somehow, Jack began telling stories of his years as a Time Agent—those he could remember.
"I swear!" Jack nearly shouted, drawing the annoyed attention of most of the other patrons.
"You're lying through your teeth!" The Doctor laughed.
"With big tusks!" Jack insisted. "I mean, it turns out the white things are tusks—and I mean tusks! And it's woken, and it's not happy."
"How could you not notice it?" The Guardian asked him, cutting Gwyneth's fruit into smaller pieces while Michael tried to steal his sister's bananas. Much to her distress, both twins had inherited their father's obsession with bananas.
"And we're standing there—fifteen of us—naked." Jack continued, missing her far quieter comment.
"Oi! Children present!" She corrected.
Jack heard her this time, and shot her an apologetic smile. "And I'm like, 'Oh, no, no, it's got nothing to do with me. And then it roars, and we are running. Oh, my god, we are running! And Brakovitch falls, so I turn to him and I say—"
"'I knew we should've turned left!'" Mickey finished, laughing.
The Doctor and the twins joined in. The Guardian smiled politely, honestly not finding the story all that funny. It was obviously embellished.
"That's my line!" Jack laughed.
The Guardian glanced over at the Doctor just in time to see a look of horror cross his face. "Darling, what's wrong?"
He ignored her, instead standing and walking away from the table.
Across from her, Mickey asked Jack if he had gotten his clothes back, though he did censor the question and use the word 'things' instead.
The Guardian watched the Doctor rudely snatch a newspaper from the man a couple of tables over. He stared at the newspaper for a moment, then looked at the twins. Finally, his eyes met the Guardian's. At the panic in them, she stood. Mickey and Jack fell silent.
Without a word, the Doctor flipped the paper over, revealing a picture of a very familiar woman, with a headline reading 'New Mayor, New Cardiff'.
It was one of the Slitheen in disguise.
She sighed and crossed her arms. Their quiet time with the children was disturbed already.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
Nearly an hour later, the adults walked up the stairs to the Cardiff city hall. The twins were back in the TARDIS, safe and napping. Both the Doctor and the Guardian carried a teleport that would beep if one of the twins woke and needed someone, and could teleport either one of them back to the TARDIS immediately. It had taken the Doctor a couple of months to work out the system with a lot of help from the Guardian. They had only used it a few times and hadn't actually needed it yet, but it was a good system in cases like this, when they were both needed outside the TARDIS.
The group stopped inside the foyer, everyone looking around.
"According to intelligence," Jack said. "The target is the last surviving member of the Slitheen family—a criminal sect from the planet Raxacoricofallapatorious masquerading as a human being, zipped inside a skin suit. Okay, plan of attack: we assume a basic 57-56 strategy, covering all available exits on the ground floor."
The Doctor looked over at Jack, offended that he was the one talking strategy. The Guardian smirked.
"Doctor, you go face to face. That'll designate Exit One. Guardian, you'll cover Exit Two. I'll take Exit Three. Mickey, Exit Four. Have you got that?"
"Excuse me." The Doctor said.
Jack looked at him, as did Mickey.
"Who's in charge?"
Jack sighed. "Sorry. Awaiting orders, ma'am."
The Guardian smiled. "I like his plan. Present arms."
The Doctor, Jack, and Mickey all pulled out mobile phones.
"Speed dial?" Jack asked.
There was a chorus of affirmatives. Then everyone noticed that the Guardian hadn't pulled a mobile phone out of her recently returned jacket, but a gun.
"What?" She raised her eyebrows at Jack and Mickey's worried looks. "I've got a mobile too, and it has all your numbers in it."
"I thought the Doctor wanted to talk." Jack said cautiously.
She rolled her eyes. "It's a Venusian stun-gun."
Jack and Mickey both gave quiet sighs of relief. "Then see you in hell." Jack said. He and Mickey went to their exits. The Doctor pulled the Guardian over and gave her a quick kiss.
'This is the first time we've been out without kids in a year.' He murmured in her mind.
'And we're investigating a Slitheen who has become mayor of Cardiff. You really need to work on your date ideas.' She kissed him once more and walked to "exit two", a side door nearest to the Lord Mayor's office.
A few minutes later, the Doctor called her telepathically. 'She's going north!"
'You got it, darling.' She took off running towards Mickey's exit, at one point jumping over a cleaning trolley.
She reached the car park right outside the Mayor's office, immediately noticing the Doctor wrestling on the balcony with a young man in a suit, and the Slitheen at the bottom of a work ladder.
The Slitheen appeared to pull her earrings off and pressed them together as she ran in the only direction available to her as Jack appeared—towards exit four.
Mickey appeared a moment later, cutting off her final escape.
Unless…
The Guardian suspicions were confirmed when the Slitheen suddenly disappeared in a flash of blue light.
"She's got a teleport!" Jack shouted, joining the Guardian. "That's cheating! Now we're never going to get her."
The Guardian smiled as the Doctor and Mickey joined them. "Oh, Jack. I didn't just marry the Doctor for his good looks. He's also very handy with teleports." She held up the monitor/teleporter for the twins to remind him.
With a grin, the Doctor slipped his arm around her waist and held up the sonic screwdriver. One short pulse later and Margaret reappeared, this time running towards them.
She stopped and turned around, teleporting away again.
Another pulse and Margaret appeared again, closer this time. She tried to teleport again, only to be brought back once more, even closer.
This time, she didn't even try to run away. Instead, she bent over, hands on her knees, gasping for breath.
"I could do this all day," the Doctor warned.
She held up her hands. "This is persecution. Why can't you leave me alone? What did I ever do to you?"
"You tried to kill my wife and destroy this entire planet," the Doctor replied matter-of-factually.
Margaret sighed in frustration. "Apart from that."
GD~GD~GD~GD~
At the Guardian's insistence, the Slitheen, disguised as Margaret Blaine, took them to a conference room inside the city hall. They needed to talk somewhere less open than the car park, but the Guardian was not about to allow a Slitheen near the TARDIS or her children just yet.
"So, you're a Slitheen, you're on Earth, you're trapped," the Doctor summarized as he led the way into the conference room, the Guardian right behind him and holding his hand. "Your family get killed, but you teleport out, just in the nick of time."
The Guardian dragged him over to the scale model of the Slitheen's planned addition to Cardiff. "You have no means of escape, so what do you do? You build a nuclear power station." She glared at the Slitheen as the rest of the company circled the table. "A very generous philanthropic gesture?"
The Slitheen shrugged. "I've learnt the error of my ways."
For the love of Clom, this Slitheen was good. Entirely believable.
"And it just so happens to be right on top of the rift?" The Doctor nodded sarcastically.
Entirely believable, if they hadn't known that piece of information.
"And what rift would that be?" The Slitheen asked too innocently.
"A rift in space and time," Jack replied, leaning closer to the model. "If this power station went into meltdown, the entire planet would go..." He imitated the action of an implosion.
The Guardian winced, the action bringing to mind a similar implosion nearly eight hundred years ago, one caused by the Weapon. An entire planet had died that day, a whole species consumed by a black hole created within their planet. Just because the Daleks had been secretly using their planet to mine for certain elements used in making Dalekanium. The native species hadn't even known.
They died anyway, all to keep the elements from the Daleks. Elements that could be found on hundreds of planets in that star system.
"This station is designed to explode the minute it reaches capacity," the Doctor interrupted her thoughts. He squeezed her hand, and she returned the gesture, grateful for the distraction.
"Isn't anyone checking this sort of thing out?" Mickey asked, looking at the Slitheen.
"We're in Cardiff," the Slitheen snapped bitterly. "London doesn't care. The South Wales coast could fall into the sea and they wouldn't notice—oh." A horrified look crossed her face. "I sound like a Welshman. God help me—I've gone native."
"But why would she do that?" Mickey muttered. "A great big explosion—she'd only end up killing herself. Unless she had transport."
"She's got a name, you know." The Slitheen replied.
"She's not even a she," Mickey snapped. "She's a thing."
"Good point, Ricky-boy." The Doctor released the Guardian's hand to look closer at the model. He glanced up at the young man. "I mean about the transport—she's clever."
He suddenly knocked the model buildings over and pulled out the gray section of the otherwise white model. He held it in his arms, underside up. The Guardian smiled at the electronic panels.
"Tribophysical waveform macro-kinetic extrapolator?" She asked.
The Doctor nodded and grinned at her. "Couldn't have put it better myself. Fantastic."
Jack pushed in and pulled the extrapolator out of the Doctor's hands. The Doctor let it go willingly, his attention drawn to something behind the Guardian. Confused, she turned around to see a banner reading "The Blaidd Drwg Project".
She turned back to him. 'Darling, what's the matter?'
He didn't answer, instead walking closer to the banner.
She turned back to Jack and Mickey as Jack explained how the extrapolator worked.
"The name of the project," she said to the Slitheen, interrupting Jack.
"Blaidd Drwg? It's Welsh. What about it?"
"How did you think of it?" The Doctor asked, still not turning.
"I chose it at random, that's all." he Slitheen walked closer, stopping and holding up her hands when the Guardian pulled out her Venusian stun-pistol. "I don't know. It just sounded good. Does it matter?"
"Blaidd Drwg." The Doctor turned back to the group, glancing at the Guardian.
"Darling, what does it mean?" The Guardian ask, something in her throat tightening at the anxiety she sensed in his stray thoughts and saw in his eyes. How could two words do so much to him?
"Bad wolf." He replied, so quietly the Guardian almost didn't hear him.
She stepped back, feeling like a physical force had struck her. It had been well over a year since she had encountered those words, graffitied on the side of the TARDIS by a kid. She had also encountered those words the last time she was in Cardiff. And hadn't the Werewolf at the Torchwood Estate referred to her as its sister?
"What's so important about those words?" Jack asked.
The Guardian and the Doctor just stared at each other, neither one knowing what to say to the other. Now that she thought of it, there had been numerous other places the Guardian had encountered the words—spoken over the paging system in Van Statten's museum, on posters, more random graffiti. She just hadn't really thought about it until now.
"Doctor, Guardian," Jack said slowly. The concern in his voice made the Gallifreyans look over. "The bomb that was supposed to fall on the Chula ambulance I tried to sell you… it had 'bad wolf' written in German on it."
"It's like they're following us. Everywhere we go." The Doctor mused.
"How could they be following you?" Mickey asked. "Doctor? Dee?"
The Doctor snapped out of his musings so suddenly, it started the Guardian. "Nah, just a coincidence. Like hearing a word on the radio, then hearing it all day. Never mind. Things to do." He walked towards the door.
The Guardian followed behind him reluctantly, not believing his sudden cheery attitude. From Jack and Mickey's expressions, they didn't believe him either.
"Margaret, we're going to take you home," the Doctor said, distracting them all once more.
"Hold on," Jack said. "Isn't that the easy option, like letting her go?"
"Ricky-boy! Want to come with us?"
"To Raxacoricofallapatorius?"
The Guardian pushed aside her bad feelings and smiled at the young man. "Pronouncing that correctly on the first try? I'd say you earned it."
He grinned proudly. "Yeah, I'd say I did."
"They have the death penalty."
The Slitheen's words stopped the Doctor before he reached the door and made them all turn back to her, the mood now deader than she would be once they dropped her off.
"The family Slitheen was tried in its absence many years ago and found guilty. With no chance of appeal. According to the statutes of government, the moment I return, I am to be executed. I know the Guardian won't care, but what do you make of that, Doctor? Take me home, and you take me to my death."
"Not my problem." He replied.
The Guardian just looked sadly at her husband, knowing how very much the opposite he felt.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
Several hours later, once night had fallen, the Guardian looked up to see the Slitheen walking into the console room from the upper hall, followed by Mickey, who had been assigned to keep an eye on her.
Her mouth tightened in displeasure as she shifted Michael to her other hip. She wanted the Slitheen as far away from her children as possible, but the twins required both her and the Doctor to be present. And there was no chance she was leaving Jack and Mickey alone to deal with their prisoner. At least in the TARDIS, the time machine could shift rooms around to keep the Slitheen away from anywhere she shouldn't be, or lead her back to the console room if she tried to hide.
"This ship is impossible! It's superb!" The Slitheen's praise of the TARDIS set the Guardian even more on edge. "How did you get the outside around the inside?"
"As if you'd be able to understand," the Guardian snapped. "Even if we did tell you."
The Slitheen smiled poisonously at her, then focused her attention on the Doctor, who was leaning against a Y-beam, holding Gwyneth. "I almost feel better about being defeated. I never stood a chance. This is the technology of the gods."
"Don't worship me, I'd make a very bad god. You wouldn't get a day off, for starters."
"And I'm too busy being a mum," the Guardian added. "How are you doing, Jack?" She called to the man sitting on the floor beside the extrapolator, wiring it into the TARDIS.
"This extrapolator's top of the range," he replied excitedly. "Where did you get it?"
The Slitheen pulled her hand away from the console as it sparked. "Oh, I don't know. Some airlock sale?"
The Guardian rolled her eyes.
"Must've been a great big heist." Jack's tone implied the same disbelief that the Guardian felt. "It's stacked with power."
"But we can use it for fuel?" The Doctor asked.
"It's not compatible, but it should knock off about twelve hours. We'll be ready to go by morning."
"Then we're stuck here. Overnight." The Doctor sighed.
"I'm in no hurry." The Slitheen commented.
"Of course not," the Guardian snapped at her. "You're going to your death."
"And that makes you my executioners." She replied coldly. "Each and every one of you."
"Well, you deserve it," Mickey said.
The Guardian put one hand on the shoulder of the clearly uncomfortable young man. Because of the Slitheen, he had been forced to launch a missile at Downing Street—which was treason—not knowing if he would be taking innocent lives in the process.
"You're very quick to say so. You're—"
"Someone who has had to make hard decisions to save the world," the Guardian interrupted. She was not about to let this murderer attack Mickey. Not when his actions had saved the Doctor's life. "Save the world from you."
The Slitheen looked slightly thrown off. "Long night ahead," she said finally. She sat down very primly in the seat beside the console. "Let's see who can look me in the eye."
One by one, she stared at Mickey, the Doctor, and Jack until they looked away. Then she came to the Guardian.
Refusing to back down, the Guardian simply stared at the Slitheen without a word. The Weapon had slaughtered innocents for the enjoyment of it; her War persona had killed innocents to spare them having to live with the memories of her slaughters.
This Slitheen, staring at her with a dead woman's eyes, using the identity of a woman she murdered for a disguise, was anything but an innocent.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
The Guardian brought Mickey with her to put the twins to bed, leaving the Doctor and Jack to continue hooking the extrapolator up to the TARDIS.
"She does deserve it." Mickey finally spoke after she closed the nursery door on the two silent Time Children. "She's a Slitheen."
The Guardian leaned against the wall and looked at the boy sadly. Right now, he reminded her so much of the Doctor. Technically, he had been the one to kill the Slitheen last time they had encountered them, and she could see a very familiar guilt in his eyes.
"Mickey, you know a bit of the Doctor and I's story."
He nodded.
"We've killed so many. One Slitheen barely seems like anything to me. But you're nothing like me. You didn't callously murder thousands at a time and yet not regret it. You did what was necessary to protect your world." She laid one hand on his shoulder. "Now don't let the guilt consume you like it does the Doctor. And don't let the guilt of what might have happened keep you tied to people who don't care."
Michael's sudden cry cut off Mickey's response. The Guardian slipped back into the dimly-lit nursery and gathered her son before he could wake up his sister.
'Amadahy, get back in here.'
At the Doctor's call, she abandoned her attempts to get the boy back to sleep and carried him back to the console room.
The Slitheen was speaking. "There's a little restaurant just 'round the Bay. It became quite a favorite of mine."
"So you want a last meal?" The Guardian walked in, Mickey right behind her.
"Don't I have rights?"
Jack scoffed. "Oh, like she's not going to try to escape."
"Except I can never escape the Doctor, or his Guardian, so where's the danger?" The Slitheen's smile suddenly chilled. "I wonder if you could do it? To sit with a creature you're about to kill and take supper. How strong is your stomach?"
The Guardian stood beside the Doctor and laid a hand on his back.
"Strong enough," he replied.
"I wonder."
"And you'll keep wondering, Slitheen." The Guardian interjected. "Because it won't be the Doctor you're having dinner with."
'Don't argue, Eltanin.'
'I can do this.'
'But I'm making sure that you don't have to.'
"The Guardian, goddess of Death," the Slitheen mused. "Taking dinner with her next victim."
The Guardian glanced down at her son, noting that he was asleep once again, his head resting against her chest. Good. He didn't need to hear this, but the Slitheen did. "You're not the first person I've carried out a death sentence on, and you're certainly not the first I've taken to dinner."
Her smile matched the Slitheen's for poison. "I assassinated a man during dinner once. Poisoned his dessert. Fellow Time Lord, too, but he was plotting against the Lord President and was already guilty of a Level 5 genocide."
The Slitheen's smile faded.
"Level Five genocide?"
She turned, noting that Mickey and Jack both looked rather ill. Their gaze dropped to the sleeping baby in her arms.
"He committed genocide against a Level 5 planet. Like Earth." The Doctor responded, also looking rather upset.
The Guardian reached up to brush his cheek with with her fingertips. He hated reminders that she hadn't just been a bodyguard or a soldier, but a trained assassin. One of the best in the Universe, as a matter of fact. Without turning her head, she addressed Mickey and Jack. "And the Lord President at the time was the Doctor, by the way."
'I don't remember that.' He said, lifting a hand to gently rest it on Michael's head.
'He was one of the High Council. Long story.' She turned back to a now very ill at ease-looking Slitheen. "Now there's just the question of how to make sure you don't escape."
"I've got these." Jack held up a couple of bracelets. "You both wear one. If she moves more than ten feet away," he imitated the sound of electricity, miming a shock. "She gets zapped by ten thousand volts."
The Guardian turned back to the Slitheen. "Still want that last meal?"
The Slitheen smiled once more, but this time it trembled.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
The Doctor very carefully took a still-sleeping Michael from the Guardian. "I should go with you."
She kissed Michael's head. "Nope. When we got married, I promised to protect your conscience. Letting you spend more time with the Slitheen than is necessary would be breaking that vow."
He smiled tensely. If he was completely honest, he was grateful that the Guardian was the one going out to dinner with Margaret. And he hated himself for it. No man should be grateful that his wife was going to have dinner with the person they were taking back to her execution just so he didn't have to. But seeing Margaret sit there, staring at him…
It reminded him far too much of standing in that old barn on the Last Day, with no one else there to talk him out of it or help him do it.
No, there was someone.
Just for a moment, an image of a much younger incarnation of his wife flashed through his memory. Calling herself the "Bad Wolf".
No, that was impossible. That incarnation had been long gone by the time the Last Day came. And she certainly never called herself a "bad wolf". No. It must be the stress making him remember things that never happened. Transpose memories. Invent—
The Guardian kissed him, cutting off his thoughts. "I love you, Eltanin," she whispered in Gallifreyan, careful that Margaret not hear.
"I love you, Amadahy." He responded equally as quiet, and kissed her once more.
She joined Margaret and Jack at the door. "Keep out of trouble," she called back.
He grinned. She could handle one Slitheen. And now a part of him wished he could watch her do exactly that.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
The Slitheen directed them to a nice little bistro. After being shown to a table and ordering wine, the two women were left alone to look over their menus.
"So, tell me, Guardian: why don't you call me Margaret?"
The Guardian didn't even look up. "Because it's not your name. That's the name of the woman you murdered for her skin."
There was silence for a minute. The Guardian could hear the Slitheen shifting, once again thrown off.
Finally, "Blon Fel Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen."
The Guardian looked up now, smiling coldly at the Slitheen. "There's a bit of the truth. So that's what it will say on your death certificate?"
Blon appeared startled.
The Guardian turned away back her menu. "You might as well forget trying to remind me that you're a living creature with a name. I am well aware of that fact, yet I am still taking you back to Raxacoricofallapatorius."
Silence again.
"Oh, look. You can see the little flat I was living in. Just next to the one with the light on."
The Guardian nearly rolled her eyes at how obvious this Slitheen was. Still, she turned, just like Blon wanted her to.
"Two bedrooms, bayside view. I was rather content. Don't suppose I'll see it again."
The Guardian turned back and immediately knocked over the poisoned glass of wine. A bit of it ran off the table onto Blon's skirt. "Oh, I am so sorry!" She faked embarrassment.
A waiter came and moved them to another table, accompanied by her very insincere apologies. Several minutes later, they were situated and again looking at their menus.
Blon tried again. "Tell me, Guardian. What do you know of our species?"
"Not a lot," the Guardian lied.
"Did you know, for example—in extreme cases, when her life is in danger, a female Raxacoricofallapatorian can manufacture a poison dart within her own finger?"
At the last word, the Guardian closed her eyes and focused on the sound the dart made as it cut through the air. Her mind raced, calculating the speed and distance, slowing time down for her as she planned her move.
She had done this before. Dozens of times. Usually with energy bullets. A poison dart would be easy.
At the last moment, she flicked her index finger.
It struck the dart, sending it harmlessly to the floor.
The Guardian opened her eyes to see Blon staring at the dart, annoyed. She sarcastically waved. "Time Lady. Hi."
The Slitheen smiled tightly. "Just one more thing."
The Guardian raised her eyebrows expectantly.
"Between you and me." Blon glanced around, as though she was going to admit some great secret, and leaned forward.
The Guardian restrained her desire to roll her eyes and leaned forward also.
"Did you know..." Blon snarled and began exhaling a green poisonous gas.
The Guardian sprayed some breath freshener in her mouth, surprising the Slitheen so that she suddenly inhaled the poison. The Slitheen stuck out her tongue and grimaced at the nasty taste.
"That the excess poison could be exhaled thorough the lungs? No, I didn't know that." The Guardian leaned back and picked up her menu again. "Please, tell me more about all the ways you plan to kill me."
"I can change." Blon said suddenly.
"Ha," the Guardian laughed. "Considering that you just tried to kill me three times and we haven't even been here ten minutes, I hardly think you can blame me for not believing you."
"If you can change, why can't I?"
The Guardian froze. There were thousands of reasons why. The most glaring was that, unlike a Slitheen, the Guardian could literally change. She had regenerated since the last time she saw this particular Slitheen.
"There was this girl, just today," Blon continued. "A young thing, something of a danger. She was getting too close. I felt the blood lust rising, just as the family taught me. I was going to kill her without a thought. And then… I stopped."
The Guardian watched the tiny expressions that passed over the human face that Blon wore. She was telling the truth. But she was also using the truth for her own gain.
"She's alive somewhere right now. She's walking around this city because I can change."
"No."
Blon looked surprised at the monosyllable. "I spared her life!"
"So?" The Guardian shrugged. "You let one go. That's nothing new. Every now and then, a victim is spared—because she smiled, because he's got blue eyes, because they have a child waiting for them at home. That's how you live with yourself while you slaughter millions. Because once in a while, you choose to be kind on a whim."
"Only a killer would know that." Blon replied coldly.
The Guardian set down her menu and raised her chin. "You've heard the stories of me, Blon. During the War I left none alive. Have you ever wondered why that was?"
The Slitheen was silent.
"It was because I know what it's like to live in a nightmare. And I wouldn't condemn another to that fate."
"The legends also said that you had no choice about what you became."
The Guardian's jaw tightened. This Slitheen was not about to use her childhood to excuse murder!
"In the family Slitheen, we had no choice either."
She was.
"I was made to carry out my first kill at thirteen. If I'd refused, my father would have fed me to the Venom Grubs!"
"I killed for the first time at the age of ten." The Guardian replied coldly. "Another child, one from a planet that the High Council deemed "less" than Gallifrey. I didn't kill him fast enough, so I was killed for it. Slowly. Painfully. In a manner that makes Raxacoricofallapatorian public execution seem kind." Her smile was bitter. "Don't try to play me for sympathy. You lost all chance for that when you stepped outside my door with me, leaving my husband behind."
Just then, she noticed a noise like thunder in the distance.
"Hush." She said as Blon opened her mouth to speak.
A moment later, the glasses began to vibrate.
Then the windows shattered.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
Things were exploding in the TARDIS. Literally.
"Jack!" The Doctor shouted. "Disconnect the extrapolator!" He attempted to push some buttons, but the console kept sparking and exploding.
The doors opened and the Guardian and Margaret ran in.
"The rift is opening up!" The Guardian hurried over to his side.
"You sure?" If the rift was opening…. All of Cardiff was going to disappear.
She nodded once. "Completely. What the hell is going on here?"
"It's the extrapolator," Jack explained. "I've disconnected it, but it's still feeding off the engine! It's using the TARDIS!" He began pulling out wires. At this point, the Doctor didn't care if he damaged something beyond repair, just as long as this was stopped.
The Guardian glanced at the monitor. "Never mind Cardiff. Jack, you were right. This whole planet is about to get pulled into the rift!"
And the TARDIS would be first. The Doctor looked at his wife as she pulled levers, ignoring the explosions in a desperate attempt to save all their lives. Telepathically, he heard Michael and Gwyneth crying in their nursery, but right now neither of them could go comfort them.
A horrible, familiar feeling rose up within him. It was the same one that he felt when Gaiana last lay in his arms, dead before regeneration.
The same one that he felt when he saw Susan's body at her funeral.
The one he felt when he realized that his relationship with his brother had changed.
The one that made him leave when his first wife died.
It was the emotion he felt at the Untempered Schism as a child.
He felt helpless.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
The Guardian flipped yet another switch on the exploding console.
No change.
She looked up to see Blon's dark grin. Everything connected. "This was you," she spat. "Your plan B, in case someone caught you."
Jack, Mickey, and the Doctor looked at her in surprise, then at the Slitheen.
"Everyone stay far away from her," she warned. Jack and Mickey both moved to stand closer to the Gallifreyans.
"Well, since my attempts to get you to let me go didn't work, I did have to resort to my plan B. I figured that anyone capable of tracking me down would have considerable technology of their own. Therefore, they would be captivated by the extrapolator."
"And that Plan B is?" The Guardian asked, telepathically sending a distress signal to the TARDIS. The old girl had to have something she could do.
"The extrapolator was programmed to lock onto the nearest alien power source and open the rift." She glanced around the TARDIS and smiled. "And what a power source it found. I'm back on schedule, thanks to you."
"The rift's going to convulse!" Jack shouted at the Slitheen. "You'll destroy the whole planet."
"And you with it!" She moved to stand on the extrapolator. "While I ride this board over the crest of the inferno all the way to freedom."
The Guardian noticed a tiny bit of golden light on the TARDIS console and she smiled. "No, you won't."
Blon looked up at her just as the console opened up. A bright light fell on the Slitheen.
"Because it's not just any old power source," the Doctor said. "It's the TARDIS. Our TARDIS. The best ship in the Universe."
"And you're tearing it apart, exposing the heart of the TARDIS." The Guardian added.
Blon seemed drawn to the light. "It's so… bright," she whispered.
"Look at it, Margaret." The Doctor urged.
"Beautiful." She looked at the Doctor for a moment, tears in her eyes. "Thank you."
The light intensified until everyone closed their eyes. A moment later, it dimmed again. The Slitheen was gone, only an empty skin-suit left.
"Don't look!" The Doctor shouted, going to the other side of console. "Stay there. Close your eyes!"
When the panel closed, the Guardian hurried over to the one beside it. "Mickey, turn all those switches to the right." She pointed at the panel she intended. "Jack, shut everything down!"
After tense minute, the TARDIS went completely dark. As she expected it, the Guardian already held the Doctor's hand, so she just buried her face in his jacket until he nudged her.
The shaking stopped, and the TARDIS turned on as normal again.
She sent a telepathic call to the twins, promising to be there very shortly, then stepped out of the Doctor's arms to hug Mickey, then Jack.
"Nicely done," the Doctor said. "Thank you all."
"So, what happened to the Slitheen?" Mickey asked.
Jack shrugged. "Must've got burnt up. Carried out her own death sentence."
The Doctor moved around the console to where Blon had stood. "No, I don't think she's dead. She looked into the heart of the TARDIS, and even I don't know how strong that is."
"Perhaps..." the Guardian said, realizing what he was thinking. "If it can translate alien languages, it can translate someone's real thoughts and desires." She joined the Doctor.
He crouched down and dug through the remains of the Slitheen's old disguise and found an… egg.
"An egg?" She asked.
"She's an egg?" Mickey repeated, coming over.
"Regressed to her childhood." The Doctor explained.
The Guardian had seen a lot of strange things in her life, but this…
"She's an egg?" Jack joined in, also unable to process it.
The Doctor grinned. "She can start again. Live her life from scratch. If we take her home, give her to a different family, tell them to bring her up properly, she might be all right!"
"Or she might be worse," Jack pointed out.
The Guardian was inclined to agree with Jack, but she nodded. "That's her choice, though." Well, it seemed that Blon Fel Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen was going to get her chance to change after all.
"She's an egg." Mickey said once more.
"She's an egg." The Doctor stood and moved over the monitor, carrying the egg. "We're all powered up. We can leave. Opening the rift filled us up with energy." He set the egg on the console.
The Guardian smiled at Mickey. "Still want to come with us? It will just be the one trip, but you get see another planet."
Mickey hesitated, rubbing his temple with a wince, almost as though he was in pain. "Sure. I can do the one trip."
"Right then," Jack moved back over to the extrapolator. "Next stop, Raxacoricofallapatorius. Now you don't often get to say that."
"We'll just stop by and pop her in the hatchery. Margaret the Slitheen can live her life again. A second chance." The Doctor smiled at the Guardian.
The Guardian smiled and gave him a quick kiss. "Currently, I think our more pressing business is getting our children back to bed."
After sending the TARDIS into the Vortex, the Doctor and Guardian hurried back to the twin's room to settle down their own second chance.
Both twins were out of sorts, but not from fear. They were upset that they missed the excitement.
The Guardian sighed and rubbed her forehead. Just her luck.
Both twins had inherited their father's love of danger.
GD~GD~GD~GD~
Oh, my word! Just two more episodes left of this story! Ah!
But hey, I had a ton of fun writing the restaurant scene!
So, next time we have the beginning of the end.
Review notes:
Thunderstrike16—Great guess, but no. I can say that we have met Ariana before, and we will meet her a few more times before she makes her proper appearance in the series.
Ronin Keshin—Thanks! It's been a lot of fun, switching episodes around to make it work with my narrative.
Engine of a Dream—Yes, poor Guardian. That really would be horrible. Well, as you can see, the Doctor's only managed to stay out of trouble for a year. I originally planned to have the Guardian makes a comment about that in the scene where the Doctor sees the newspaper with Margaret's picture on it, but felt it didn't fit with the mood of the scene.
One last thing:
I had set a goal last week that I wanted 30 reviews by the end of the book, and I got the last ones I needed in one chapter! So, as a thank-you, here's a sneak peak at the next book, The Tale of Two Time Lords and an Immortal.
"That thing nearly exploded," the Doctor insisted. "You might as well have stepped in a blender."
Professor Lazarus scoffed and Lady Thaw frowned. "You are not qualified to comment," she snapped.
"No, but I am." The Guardian pulled her credentials out of her clutch purse. "Allegra Shannon, Torchwood Institute. My associate Mr. Smith," she gestured to Mickey, "and I are here to investigate whether or not your device is a danger to the public or not. After what I just saw, you should hope that we find nothing else that gives us cause for concern, otherwise we have every right to seize all your equipment and research." She shot Lady Thaw a falsely sweet smile.
Professor Lazarus straightened and tried to give the Guardian a placating smile. "There is no need for that, Miss Shannon. It was a simple engineering issue."
"If I hadn't stopped it, it would have exploded." the Doctor broke in, his voice cold, though whether that was from Lazarus's careless attitude or the reminder of Torchwood, the Guardian wasn't certain.
"Then I thank you, Doctor." Professor Lazarus smiled tensely yet again. "But what happened in that capsule was exactly what was supposed to happen, Miss Shannon. No more, no less."
The Guardian returned his tense smile, doubtful.