Invasive Species
5
Clara's sleep was disturbed by unnatural snoring booming alongside her ear. Halfway between sleeping and waking, she elbowed the mass behind her, which snorted, and then rolled even closer, flopping one of its arms across her side. Disgruntled, she buried her face in her pillow, but it only got more and more irritating. As a last resort, she fumbled in the duvet until she found her phone buried somewhere beneath the sheets; squinting in the dim, dawn light she managed to set an alarm for a minute in the future, turning up the volume. The obnoxious sound effect – which was supposed to be windchimes or something like that – did the trick, waking up the sleeping Doctor, startling her. Clara dropped the phone on her head from a few inches above, and she flinched.
"Ow…" the Doctor mumbled, retrieving Clara's phone and blindly patting the touch-screen until, by pure chance, she managed to hit the 'snooze' icon. She slumped down in the bed again with the phone on the pillow next to her and grimaced. "It's Saturday."
"You were snoring," Clara told her.
"No, I wasn't. I don't snore."
"You snore sometimes."
"I guess I was extra-relaxed…" she mumbled, curling up again. "Maybe it's all the pillows. Why do we need so many pillows?"
"I heard that smoking can make people snore," said Clara, "Maybe you smoke too much." In retaliation for that, the Doctor lifted one of the smaller pillows from the headrest and threw it – somewhat meekly – at Clara's face. Clara dropped it on the floor behind her. "I really want to smoke now…" She rolled onto her back, the Doctor still at her side; she always slept on Fridays now they had a proper schedule, rather than being forced to guess how many days had passed. "You're gonna mess up our routine if you don't wake up properly soon."
"I'm not gonna do you."
"But it's Saturday morning."
"I'm not in the mood."
"Jesus. You have to ruin everything, don't you?" Clara quipped. The Doctor smiled slightly and didn't say anything for a long few seconds. Sunlight peeked around the edges of the curtains; Clara liked it when it was dark in there, it made it harder to see all the mess.
"Good morning, Coo."
"It's a bad morning. It's a morning without sex. That makes it bad."
"That's most mornings."
"But not Saturdays."
"Get a hold of yourself. I'm depressed. I've been depressed by the news. And you threw your phone at me."
"I just dropped it – and I'm sorry. You were snoring, though."
"Then I guess I'm sorry for uncharacteristically snoring. Can I go back to sleep now?"
"And leave me on my own?"
"Aww… c'mere," she said, wrapping her arms around Clara again, "At least it's the weekend. How long is it until half-term, again?"
"Ha, ha. Five weeks," said Clara.
"I can't wait for Halloween."
"No Halloween-talk until October," Clara said, which was a rule she'd had to come up with after last year's autumnal celebrations had gotten very extreme, and the Doctor had started decorating in mid-September. Clara had never been particularly interested in Halloween, outside of using it as an excuse to go and get drunk in her youth, and didn't like having to put up with it for that long. And because the Doctor had cut her hand open trying to carve pumpkins very early; the rule was for her own good, and they had a similar one about 'no Christmas-talk until December.' Clara liked that, because it meant the only major celebration on their minds in November was her birthday.
"I forgot what a chore it is having to stay 'professional,'" the Doctor went on to complain. Clara retrieved her phone again to check her messages but laughed slightly. "I can't even say, like, half the things I want to say to you. Nick told me he thinks I'm quiet, can you believe that?"
"You? Quiet? Not really. But it's funny when you don't say anything at work – you remind me of Jenny. Just standing there… listening."
"Mm, she can be ominous like that."
"Nobody at work understands the suffering I go through, having to listen to you," Clara joked, "Constant, non-stop monologuing right in my ear, about SpongeBob and Scooby-Doo and Pokémon."
The Doctor yawned, "It's Courage the Cowardly Dog at the moment."
"Of course it is. Because I'm married to a child."
"It's a very thematically complex cartoon, Clara – it deals with existentialism in far more depth than lots of 'mature' fiction," she argued. Clara regretted bringing it up now and dreaded the Doctor going on a long tirade about the socio-political themes of very old cartoons. The worst part was the Doctor's inherently argumentative tone whenever she brought it up, when Clara didn't necessarily find herself disagreeing with what was being said. She was just filling the void of whatever antagonist the Doctor wanted to think she was arguing with. Clara had just as many pointless arguments, only she normally directed them towards Tom and not her wife.
"What do you want to do today?"
"Apart from get rid of that tree?"
"Well, if you don't wanna have sex with me, then there must be something really important you have to do."
The Doctor scoffed, "Be quiet. I just can't be bothered. It's an hour of my life I'll never get back."
"I'll be quicker than that."
"I don't care. What're you watching?" Her head next to Clara's on the pillow, she took the time to look at Clara's phone screen.
"Blackhead video. Sarah sent me it."
"Does she have nothing better to do than watch these things? Eurgh…"
"This is a good one," said Clara.
"You're gross. You say I'm gross, but you're gross."
"I'm the gross to your gross."
"That doesn't even make sense," she said, then Clara shushed her so she could focus all of her attention on the clip, even though it didn't have any sound to begin with. The Doctor just closed her eyes and put her head on Clara's shoulder, trying to ignore the video of someone's severe nose blackheads being dug out with brutal, aluminium tools.
"He just got four at once – look!"
"I don't wanna look," the Doctor pushed the phone away from her face where Clara had thrust it.
"They look like slugs."
"Eurgh! Get away from me! I've seen enough blackheads in my life – and lots of them were yours," she snapped, going to leave the bed, which Clara objected to.
"Where're you going? It's still early."
"I'm going to have a shower and hopefully regain my appetite," she muttered, getting up. "And then, if I'm not too disgusted, I guess I'll make breakfast. What do you want?"
"I don't know. Anything with bacon in it. I'm in a bacon mood. Remind me to show Mattie this video later; she'll love it."
"I will not do that, but how do bacon and eggs sound?"
"Just the thought is turning me on. Are you sure you don't want me to join you in the shower?" The Doctor stopped halfway through picking out clean clothes to take into the bathroom with her, glancing at Clara, who had sat up in the bed and leant forwards. She flashed what the Doctor knew to be her sweetest and most charming smile.
"Don't you do that," she warned.
"Do what?" Clara asked innocently.
"I'm immune to your wiles, Oswald."
"Since when?"
"I'm going to shower, alone. Without you badgering me, for once. Why not just get yourself off if you're that desperate?"
"Ugh. Maybe I will."
"Well, have fun with that, be sure to lock the door once I leave," she said, shaking her head. "But I want you downstairs in no later than an hour, otherwise I'm eating all your bacon."
"Yes, ma'am," Clara did a joking salute.
"Don't do that."
"You're cute when you tell me off."
"I'm always cute," she said, opening the door, "Later."
"Sure, sure. Later." Clothes bundled in her arm, the Doctor paused after the door clicked shut. She didn't debate for longer than a few seconds, before turning to re-enter the bedroom, feeling thoroughly annoyed at herself. Clara had her phone out again but raised her eyebrows at the Doctor's return.
"Did you say you'll be quick?"
"I said I'll be quicker than an hour," she said.
"Dammit…" the Doctor muttered.
"What?"
"No, I'm just – I'm hungry."
"I said I'll join you in the shower," Clara reminded her, "If you want to kill two birds with one stone." The Doctor just stood in the doorway and continued to think very carefully about her options. "I don't think this decision is as difficult as you're making it out to be; just come back to bed for twenty minutes. I promise I'll make it worth your while."
"Matilda's right, though."
"About…?"
"These missing people. Coo, I want to, you know that; there're very few things I'd rather do – but there's something bad going on. You saw the news last night, almost 2000 people have gone missing in and around Brighton just this week. And what're we doing? Bickering about when and where we're gonna do the nasty next? We should be listening to Mattie and trying to do something of substance. Maybe Earth-life has made me – made both of us – complacent…" Clara sighed. It had been very clear on the news: the police had no leads, and people just kept vanishing, including whole search parties now who had been venturing out to try and locate their friends and family. So much for safety in numbers…
Clara said seriously "Close the door, come and talk to me." The Doctor did so, shutting it carefully behind her and putting her fresh clothes down on the end of the bed, going to sit on the edge of the mattress next to Clara. "I don't think we're being complacent, we're being careful, it's different. We just… don't have the same freedom to go involving ourselves in things unnecessarily, right? Not that this is unnecessary – I agree with you, it's serious, but we have to be sure we're not putting Matilda in danger before we go intervening. I know that's not who you are as a person, but it's why we're her guardians and not Ten and Rose, or Jack and Ianto."
"I'm going to do something, Clara," she said firmly, meeting Clara's eyes. Clara touched her face gently.
"Yeah, I know. Just make sure you bring me along, too."
Matilda came trudging downstairs some time before ten o'clock, finally understanding what it was like having a lie-in when she was forced to wake up at seven on weekdays. In all of her previous life, she'd almost never had to get up early; with her dad always at home, they'd both enjoyed lounging around and never really having to be anywhere, much to the frustration of her mum, who was constantly working strange hours, or on-call, and always said she would love to sleep in. Until she retired quite a lot of years ago.
She hadn't bothered to get dressed yet, instead, going through her phone messages. She had no shortage of texts from both Aki, updating her on the fruitless search for her missing dog, Hiro, and Stefani, who wrote in a borderline illegible style imbued with slang terms Mattie was utterly unfamiliar with. Mattie was trying to work out if Steph had mistakenly started texting her in Polish, or something. What had really gotten her out of bed was the pungent smell of fresh bacon, however, and so she went off in search of something to eat for breakfast that was a bit more interesting than the cereal or toast she had during the week.
Walking through the living room, she spied the Doctor in the kitchen, dressed and keeping her attention focused on a frying pan on the hob. Her hair was still wet, so she must have showered; she almost looked ready to go out and do something. Dig up the weird tree, hopefully. She heard Mattie jump down the stairs and so turned to greet her.
"Hey," the Doctor smiled, "Do you want some breakfast? I'm making bacon and eggs for Clara and me. She's just in the shower."
"Uh… could I just have bacon? I'll make a sandwich."
"Sure thing."
"Aki's dog's still missing," Mattie said, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and sitting down, phone on the top.
"Y'know, there was a time when it'd be rude to have your phone on the table during a meal," the Doctor said, "Those things keep everybody so distracted. Honestly, Clara's always on her phone, and I have no idea what she's doing half the time. Like, who is she texting? She has no friends… Anyway, as long as Aki's safe, I think the dog shouldn't be anybody's top priority."
"She texted me this video of these blackheads earlier, it was great," Mattie said.
"Mm, I saw it, she woke me up and stuck it right in my face. I'm telling you now, Matts, don't get married."
"You don't mean that, though," she said, "Do you? You don't hate being married?" The Doctor didn't answer right away, turning her attention back at her frying pan.
"Go fix your bread, this is almost done," she said. Matilda left her phone and went to follow the Doctor's instructions, getting the Nutella out of the cupboard and a few slices of bread. "The truth is, there's nobody in the universe I'd rather be with than Clara, and frankly, nothing that's more important to me than us staying happy together. Except, I don't know, maybe Jenny, or taking care of you. But Jenny can be a handful. So, no," she lifted up bacon rashers with a set of tongs and dropped them onto Mattie's plate, "I don't mean it. But I still don't like being forced to watch gross videos of some guy's blackheads."
"I don't think I could marry someone who doesn't like gross videos."
"Trust me, Matts, you never know what kind of person you'll end up marrying. I should know, I've married a bunch of people, and all of them pretty different." Mattie went to sit back down, which was when Clara decided to make her appearance, just in time for the Doctor to crack some eggs into the pan. She was dressed, too, but she stopped dead when she saw Matilda's plate.
"You're not having Nutella with bacon, are you?"
"So what if I am?" she grew defensive. Clara shook her head. "Are you two going somewhere?" Mattie asked, looking between them as Clara went to retrieve a plate.
"Depends," the Doctor answered, but it wasn't much of answer. What did it depend on? She was beginning to think she should've changed out of pyjamas before coming downstairs. "Matilda was just asking me if I like being married."
"Oh yeah?" asked Clara, "What did you say?"
"I said you're the bane of my life."
"Sounds about right."
"That's not what she actually said," said Mattie, "She said something lame, and sappy."
"Aw," Clara patronised the Doctor, "You took the effort to be lame and sappy for me?"
"Don't let anyone say I don't work at this relationship," said Thirteen, prompting Clara to kiss her cheek and wait obediently with her plate of bacon for the fried eggs to be done. They were spitting quite aggressively, but Mattie had never been too keen on eggs, especially not the smell of them cooking. It was something which upset Clara more than it reasonably should, whose entire existence seemed to revolve around when she could next eat eggs or egg-based food (i.e., her beloved mayonnaise.)
"So, is Clara your favourite wife? Because you've had loads of wives, right?" Mattie asked.
"Erm," Clara began, "Are you trying to start drama, Matilda?"
"No," said Mattie quickly, though admittedly, she had been a little curious about if that question would start an argument. The Doctor lifted an egg out of the pan with a fish slice and let it slide onto Clara's plate, while Clara continued to scrutinise Mattie.
"Well, you know what? By process of elimination, she's the only person I've married who hasn't tried to kill me," the Doctor explained, "Since Lizzie ordered me to be executed, and even Marilyn – well, I wouldn't say she was actively trying to kill me, but she did once throw some very dangerous projectiles at me. One of them went through the window, right into the pool. And she still goes all poltergeist on me. River was literally indoctrinated to be my assassin."
"I am your favourite wife, then?" Clara implored her, taking her plate to sit down at the kitchen table opposite Mattie. The Doctor switched off the hob and went about getting herself some food, and of course, she had the most gargantuan portion all to herself, with three eggs, eight rashers of bacon, and four slices of bread and butter.
"I guess you must be, darling."
"So, then," Clara again turned her attention on Matilda, "You've done your first week of actual school. How'd it go? You know, on balance."
"Uh, well, I don't know. I've got a friend, though – I've never had a friend before who wasn't some weird adult who was supposed to be babysitting me. And… I guess science is cool, with Mr McCloud. But I don't like French. And English is, like… well, I don't know, To Kill a Mockingbird is depressing, and it's full of the n-word."
"Mm, that it is," said Clara, "We have to teach it though. The syllabus is very rigid with what we can set for GCSE texts. At A Level there's much more freedom."
"I doubt I'm gonna do an English A Level. No offence."
"I'm very much offended," said Clara, "You're grounded."
"Grounded from doing what? I never go anywhere," Mattie countered.
"From…" But Clara couldn't think of anything. "Let this be a lesson for you."
"About as interesting as an English lesson." The Doctor snickered.
"Aren't you in Tom's class?"
"Who's Tom?"
"Mr Miller."
"Oh, yeah."
"And you think his lessons are boring?"
"…I'm not going to grass to you," Mattie said.
"I'm not asking you to – but I'm the head of the department. I'm just surprised, I've seen lots of Tom's lessons, he's a good teacher. He was almost made the head, so now he fights me on everything."
"It's not him, I just don't like the subject. I don't care about old books or what they might mean or what authors might have intended when they wrote them," she shrugged, "It's just, blech. I prefer, like, maths or science. Maybe you two should have your own kid and make it like all the boring, made-up subjects, like English or history."
"You forget that I have a kid, and she's not particularly interested in either," said the Doctor, "Nor is Oswin."
"No, she told me once that everyone who's ever written a book is a wanker," said Clara, "And that's an exact quote. Because I said she should write a book about, I don't know, unravelling the mysteries of the universe – since she is a genius, after all – and she said if she 'subscribed to that specific strain of narcissism' she might as well just shit in her own mouth." Matilda went off her food after hearing that. "Sorry. It's just an expression. She's a hologram, she can't shit anywhere." Mattie's phone went off on the table next to her.
"Do we have a rule about phones at the table?" the Doctor asked.
"No," said Clara, "Why? Do you want one?"
"Maybe…"
"It's just breakfast."
"It's Aki," said Matilda, "There's been a major earthquake in San Francisco."
"Oh, really?" Clara frowned.
"Esther's there, that's why she mentioned it. She thinks Esther is basically the coolest person in the world or something."
"As long as she never meets her and realises what a massive nerd she is."
"Hey," said the Doctor, "I like Esther. She's the only one who plays on that NES with me."
"Oh, yeah, Esther's so cool. With her NES," said Clara dryly. "Although, there's no way she's gonna be able to come and help us today if she's in California helping earthquake victims."
"Help you do what?" Mattie asked, watching the video Aki had sent her. Truthfully, though, it wasn't much of a video; Esther moved so quickly she was just a blue flash most of the time. "CNN has pledged to get an interview with the Lightning Girl, apparently."
"Good luck to them, I think even Sally Sparrow struggles to get an interview with the Lightning Girl these days," said Clara, "She has to talk to me now."
"The poor girl…" said the Doctor. Clara elbowed her.
"What did you want Esther's help with? Are you keeping things from me? You can't do that," Mattie argued.
"Nothing, nothing, the Doctor needs to talk to Helix, anyway," said Clara.
"Can Helix help me with my homework?" Mattie asked, then, before either of them could respond, she said, "Helix – can you help me with my homework?" addressing the room at large.
"Affirmative, Miss Smith-Jones, what subject do you require help in?" Helix asked smoothly from the various speakers throughout the house. He was wired into the entire building as the 'house AI'; that was the thing in the future, most houses had one in-built, to take care of security and calendars and whatever other things people used them for. Only the ones built on Earth weren't nearly as advanced as Helix was, nor were they real AIs.
"No, Helix," said Clara, "Don't help her. She can ask us for help first. If I find out you've been using Helix to help with your homework, you actually will be in trouble." Mattie believed her and did not want to get in trouble.
"Helix, do you have access to the UKSA database?" the Doctor asked, mopping up the rest of her last egg with her bread.
"Affirmative, Doctor."
"Can you summarise for me the data they gathered on the meteor shower last week, on August 31st?"
"The meteor shower?" Mattie asked.
"All meteors disintegrated upon entering the planet's atmosphere, detectable remnants no larger than an average grain of sand. The event itself was categorised as 'anomalous.'"
"Anomalous why?" asked the Doctor.
"It was not predicted and the pattern was ruled to be atypical of standard meteor showers. There was a minor warning for UKSA officials to 'be aware' on the evening of August 31st, but there have been no follow-up comments."
"Is that it, then?" Mattie questioned, "It took you a whole week to decide to just ask Helix that one question?"
"Mattie, I don't appreciate your tone," said the Doctor, "We've been doing this for a long time, alright? It's basically a given that UKSA won't have any useful data, they're incompetent. But I doubt that NASA will have been monitoring it very closely. Helix – check Roscosmos."
"Roscosmos also denoted the August 31st meteor shower as unusual, but detected nothing of concern," said Helix.
"Just let me think about it for a minute," said the Doctor. All their plates were now clear. "There must be something I'm missing…"
"Well, I'm gonna go see if there's anything about this earthquake on TV," Clara decided, getting up and leaving her plate on the table.
"Hey – you know we have a dishwasher?"
"I'll sort it out later," Clara called back, going into the living room. The Doctor shook her head.
"She is a mess, you have no idea," she told Matilda, "She used to have this habit of putting out her cigarettes in half-empty cups of coffee." Mattie then very deliberately put her plate away in the dishwasher while the Doctor still had some bacon left, so that she could go join Clara in watching the television.
They were presented with utter chaos on the twenty-four-hour news channel, scenes of massive devastation ripping across California. It had been a very bad earthquake, but the enigmatic Lightning Girl was the only thing capturing the intrigue of the anchors; they were speculating about if anybody would be able to get a televised interview with her, which had been impossible so far, she'd only shown up in brief videos on social media, and she sometimes tweeted. Articles about her usually wasted their time trying to work out her identity, though considering Esther's identity was a woman who'd been legally dead since 2011 and had every record of her erased, Mattie doubted they'd be able to work it out. All the public knew was that she was a woman and that she was an American – or, at least, that she had an American accent. There was a very popular conspiracy theory that she was an experimental super-robot developed by CyTech, which Mattie thought was amusing.
Bad as the earthquake was, though, the real intrigue only began when Clara switched the channel to South East Today. Rather than a helicopter overhead shot of San Francisco, they were presented with one of Brighton – but an uncanny version of Brighton absolutely overflowing with trees. It was like a forest had sprung up in the city overnight, rippling with thriving greenery, breaking apart the roads and the buildings.
"Bloody hell… Doctor!" Clara shouted for her. Thirteen entered the room carrying her last bacon rasher, eating it without cutlery.
"What?" she asked. Clara pointed at the TV with the remote. "Holy…" Finishing the bacon rasher, the Doctor dashed across the room to get to the front curtains, dragging them open to reveal, with horror, the very same tree from yesterday. Only now it was over ten feet tall. Overnight it had grown ten feet.
"Aki pointed out the trees on Monday," Matilda suddenly remembered, "And I think Steph said something about them, too."
"Magda said the entire school field was overgrown yesterday," the Doctor said, her mind racing. Clara turned up the volume on the TV while the Doctor retrieved her sonic screwdriver and keys from the coffee table. She went outside and Clara stayed to watch the news, leaving Matilda straining her ears to listen to the broadcast while watching what the Doctor was doing through the living room window.
"…quarantine being enforced by the police, with incoming personnel from local regiments of the British Army and specialist support from branches of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. Roadblocks surround the entire East Sussex boarder and residents of Brighton & Hove and neighbouring villages are warned to stay in their homes at all costs. All major transport links out of the city are down, and a statement was given to South East Today by BHC warning any and all potential commuters that all the underground lines are closed until further notice…"
"UNIT's coming out, hmm…" Clara mused, "Here I thought UNIT didn't have much pull anymore… we'd better be careful, god knows what they'll do if they find the Doctor living here…"
"We're under quarantine!?" Mattie exclaimed.
"Quarantine doesn't affect the TARDIS, sweetheart," Clara assured her, "Try not to worry about it."
"You're telling me not to worry about it!? About this!? The city is overrun with – with trees!"
"Yeah…" but Clara seemed more interested than anything else. Outside, the Doctor was desperately scanning the trunk of the anomalous tree sprouting up through the driveway. More trees, as well as enormous sections of roots, were erupting out of the asphalt on the road. Clara dropped the remote back down on the table and decided she was going to go see what the Doctor was doing, and Mattie just followed in her tracks. "They've called in UNIT," she explained, leaving the front door ajar, "The entire city is quarantined."
"UNIT? We'd better steer clear of them."
"Ravenwood told me a story about trees growing overnight before, in London," Clara said, "It sounded ridiculous at the time… something to do with solar flares."
Thirteen laughed somewhat coldly, "Yeah, well, I doubt this is your friendly neighbourhood plant-life. I don't think it's friendly or from anywhere near this neighbourhood. Aki's right, there have been more trees and plants, all week – they must have come here in the meteor shower. I thought there was something weird about it, remember? I couldn't put my finger on it…"
"But Helix said the meteors disintegrated," Mattie pointed out.
"To particles the size of a grain of sand. Y'know what else can be the size of a grain of sand? Pollen, seeds, all that jazz. I was talking about how the Isolus travel on solar winds in tiny pods, it's the same thing, they must have travelled here – that's why UKSA and Roscosmos thought they were 'anomalous' and weird. Even I thought they came a little bit out of nowhere…" Mattie's phone started to buzz in her hand; it was Stefani, and she also had a string of very rapidly-sent texts she hadn't spotted, all asking Mattie to call her. In light of all this, Mattie thought it probably was urgent, and so answered while Thirteen and Clara continued to speculate about the trees.
"Hello?" she said, putting the phone to her ear.
"Holy fuck! I didn't think you'd pick up," said Steph, "Listen, listen – look – I – I hate to be… I hate to call you since you don't even – and you don't even like me really, it's just, nobody else will answer me, they think I'm full of shit."
"Okay?"
"Jake's gone," she sounded like she was crying, "He went to Sam's for band practice last night, somewhere in Fiveways, and he was pissed at me, but he never came home, and he's still not home. And now my parents are losing their shit, and nobody will help me look, and the city is on lockdown – I don't know what to fucking do!"
"Well, just, try and calm down," Mattie began, "Just as long as you stay at home-"
"Stay at home!? With my shitty parents!? No, fuck that, I'm looking for him, I don't care if anyone comes to help me, he's my brother. Do you get that?" Mattie didn't have a sibling, so she wasn't entirely sure that she did.
"But they're calling in the military, Steph, you should go back home."
"Is that Stefani? Since when do you have her phone number?" Clara asked.
"She says Jake's gone missing and now she's out looking for him."
"What? No, tell her to go home."
"Clara told me to tell you to go home," Mattie said.
"Fuck her! And fuck you! I'm not abandoning him."
"…Did you say he was in Fiveways? Are you in Fiveways?"
"Yeah, thereabouts."
"…Hang on," said Mattie, covering the microphone with her hand, "Do we live in Fiveways?"
"Yes," said Clara, "Is she close? If she's close… ugh. I'm going to regret this, but tell her to come here. In fact, no, you tell her to tell you exactly where she is and stay put, and we'll come and get her and look for Jakub."
"Steph?"
"Yes, what?"
"Clara says can you tell me where you are so she can come and bring you here and make sure you're safe."
"Are you shitting me? I'm invited to her house? Why does my brother have to go missing for this to happen?"
"Nothing's happening, she's just worried about you – where are you?"
"Just walking past the tube station across the street from the pub, Travellers Rest."
"Well, go wait outside the pub. Steph says she's at Travellers Rest," Mattie related back to Clara.
"Really? Great, that's only five minutes away… okay, well, keep her on the phone, alright? Tell her to wait for me, I'll just put my shoes on," Clara decided, returning indoors and leaving Mattie alone with the Doctor outside, and Steph still raving down the phone.
"Clara says wait for her, she'll be down in a minute. We're, like, two streets away," Mattie advised.
"Yeah, alright," said Steph. Mattie didn't know what more to say. She couldn't tell Steph that Jakub was going to be fine, because she didn't have a clue. What were the chances that all the missing people were dead already?
"So… Jake's in a band, then?" she asked awkwardly, at a complete loss for words. The Doctor didn't pay her much notice, pacing around the tree in the driveway, examining it, sonicking it. She hoped Steph didn't hear the buzzing screwdriver and question what it was. Maybe Mattie could pass it off as 'weird tree noises'?
"He plays the drums," said Steph, "It's mainly him and Sam, but they've got this bass guitarist called Oscar who, like, I don't know – he's some posh twat. He goes to a private school, they see him at the skate park. He's a complete bellend. They're called Tart Card."
"They're called what?"
"Tart Card," Steph repeated.
"What does 'Tart Card' mean?" Mattie asked at exactly the same moment Clara returned carrying a pair of shoes. She sat down on the step in front of the house to put them on, tying the laces slowly.
"It's what they call adverts for prostitutes in phone boxes," she answered offhandedly, unaware of the conversation.
"Why do you just know that?"
"Well – it's just – I've been in phone boxes before, I don't know. They're call girls, you see the ads in the phone box and ring them up then and there."
"Do you ring up a lot of call girls, then?"
Clara scowled at her. Down the phone, Steph asked, "Who are you talking to?"
"It's just Clara, she's talking about prostitutes."
"You're the one who's talking about prostitutes," Clara said, "I only answered a question you asked. Maybe you're the one who rings up call girls."
"Steph said Jake's band is called Tart Card," Mattie explained.
"Really? Tell Steph there are much classier prostitution-related band names you can come up with," she said.
"Like what?" Mattie prompted.
"The Fallen Women," the Doctor said, who apparently was listening, in spite of how much attention she was paying to her tree.
"I don't like it," said Clara.
"What's your idea, then?" the Doctor prompted. Steph was quiet because she was, presumably, straining her ears to listen to this.
"I don't know – Ladybird?"
"Ladybird? Why that?" Mattie asked.
"It's Victorian slang, for a prostitute."
"I think Tart Card's pretty good, depending on their sound," mused the Doctor, "Like, I can see it for a grunge band, or garage rock, y'know? It's grimy. Like phone boxes. I'm a big fan of phone boxes."
"Must be a very exciting life you lead," said Clara, finally succeeding in putting on her shoes and getting to her feet, "Tell her I'll be there in a minute, and not to ask me any questions about prostitutes."
"Clara says she'll be there in a minute and don't ask her about prostitutes," Mattie informed Steph.
"Does she sleep with prostitutes?" Steph immediately asked as Clara left down the drive, the Doctor smiling and waving as she went, but otherwise focused on the tree.
"I don't think so," said Mattie, "I mean – no. Almost definitely not, she doesn't. She just befriends them."
"Does she call them up in phone boxes? Maybe I should do that, call some escorts."
"What would you pay them with? They're expensive. And you're underage."
"I'm sixteen in October," Steph said triumphantly, "So I'm legal, and older women can feast upon me."
"That's the worst thing anybody's ever said…" Mattie muttered, "How did you get over here? The news said the all the public transport is down. The tube, and stuff."
"Yeah, you're telling me. I had to walk, from the other side of Hanover. Total fucking nightmare. I thought Ben would give me a lift, too, but he told me to eat shit," she said.
"Who's Ben?"
"This guy who's in college," said Steph, "His mum lets him drive her car around, we did it on the back seat."
"Well, that's… nice…" Mattie mumbled, "Why did he tell you to eat shit?"
"Because I only call him when I need a lift, and he's sick of it. Means I have to find somebody else who can drive. Mrs Oswald can drive – do you think she'll give me lifts places?"
"No, I don't."
"Why not?"
"Because you're a creep, I guess."
"Fuck you. My brother's missing and you're calling me a creep? You're a creep." Mattie didn't respond. "Can I call her Clara if I'm coming to your house?"
"I don't know, ask her when she shows up. She'll be there in a minute. Did you try to call Jake?"
"Did I try to fucking call him? You don't think that's the first thing I did? I called you, for fuck's sake."
"Yeah, okay… you don't have to swear so much, you know."
"Why don't you swear? Are you a swot?"
"No, but-"
"Oh my god."
"What?"
"Nothing, she's here."
"Who?"
"Who do you think?"
"Oh."
"She's fucking hot."
"That's nice."
"Seriously. God. The things I'd let her do to me."
"Keep them to yourself, please. Can't she hear you?"
"Not quite."
"Well, if Clara's there, I'm gonna hang up."
"Sure thing. And if we're delayed, you know what happened."
"…What happened?"
"You know. A rendezvous. Sexy, like."
"Oh, of course. Because that'll definitely happen."
"Really? Do you think there's a chance?"
"Bye, Steph," Mattie said, hanging up the phone. The Doctor was watching her. "Is she my friend now?"
"Sure does look that way," said the Doctor. Mattie wasn't sure how to feel about that.
"Doesn't it get on your nerves?"
"What?"
"I don't know, that she's so creepy about your wife."
"I mean, it's not great, but it doesn't bother me. If I got annoyed every time somebody crushes on Clara, I'd be a hypocrite, because I've been hardcore crushing on her for years." The Doctor went back to the tree. This time, though, she surprised Matilda, by jumping up and grabbing hold of one of its boughs. She hung from the limb for a few seconds, until it snapped under her weight. Mattie backed away when the Doctor fell to the floor, landing funny and ending up on the ground while the bough fell next to her. But the horror was only just beginning: a deep, red liquid spurted out of the broken end of the tree, which the Doctor scrambled to escape from, some of it getting on her jeans. "Dammit!" she exclaimed, "These are my good jeans! Urgh!"
"Forget about that – that tree is bleeding," Mattie pointed out, waving her arm at the tree.
"Yeah, but my jeans. They're Levi's, Matilda."
"Oh my god, who cares?"
"I do! Do you know what a hassle it is to steal clothes and make sure they fit properly?"
"You stole them?"
"No. Of course not." She was obviously lying. "Stealing is wrong, don't do it, okay?" Mattie glared at her.
"The tree!"
"Okay, yeah, it's blood," she relented. It trickled from the broken bough's stump, and from the limb above them. She crouched down and drew out the sonic screwdriver again, scanning the liquid for a few seconds. "It's human blood, containing traces of enzymes. Enzymes of extraterrestrial origin."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that this blood is in the middle of some kind of digestive process. I'm, uh, not sure you're gonna like hearing this, but I think this is the blood of the missing people…" Mattie was horrified. Blood-sucking trees? Vampire trees? The Doctor straightened up and put her hands on her hips, thinking. "Did you say the tube is closed?"
"Yeah, it was on the news. BHC said all the underground lines are shut today."
"Alright…"
"What?"
"Well, these trees grow very quickly. They've taken over the whole city overnight."
"So?"
"So, if they're capable of taking over the city's surface in a matter of hours, what have they been doing for the last six days? Just chilling out? Growing flowers?" Mattie was at a loss, not following the Doctor's train of thought at all – but that was hardly unusual. The Doctor wasn't always great at explaining what she was thinking. "I think we need to go down. Underground."
"You think they're coming from the tube?"
"Or lower," she said, "Here they are now. Haven't gone missing, at least." Clara, Steph following her like a lost dog, appeared around the corner at the bottom of the road. Clara didn't look too irritated, at least. "Maybe you should've got dressed, you're still in pyjamas."
"It's not my fault that all this has happened," Mattie complained, "How was I supposed to know I should get dressed? You two barely got dressed in summer when you weren't actually going somewhere."
"Yeah, okay. I was kidding."
"So? What are you going to do about the trees?" Mattie asked, but the Doctor shushed her because Steph was within earshot. Were they just going to lie to her then? Not explain that they sort-of knew what was going on? More than UNIT probably did, at any rate, and the rest of the city.
"And here you return to me – from the arms of a younger woman," the Doctor joked, welcoming Clara with a smile.
"Very funny," said Clara.
"What's happening, Stefani?" the Doctor asked.
"My brother's probably fucking dead."
"I heard about that."
"Is that tree bleeding?"
"It looks that way," she said, glancing at the blood again. Clara looked at the pool next to the dismembered tree stump and then stepped around it like it was something she saw all the time.
"Is that going to make a stain?"
"I don't know. I might have to get the pressure hose out."
"I don't trust you with the pressure hose, not after last time, with the horse."
"That was an isolated incident."
"Tell that to the bloke it kicked," said Clara. Mattie didn't know what they were talking about; neither did Steph. "Forget it – I will use the pressure hose."
"Fine," said the Doctor, though she sounded annoyed. "Look, you girls go inside."
"Where are you going to go?" Steph asked, looking between them.
"We're just gonna hop on the tube, that's all," said the Doctor.
"The tube's closed."
"Then I guess we'll be walking the tracks."
"But why? Shouldn't you let the army deal with it?" Steph implored.
"Army-schmarmy, you know what the army is? Fascist."
"You're not supposed to talk to the school children about politics, now," Clara warned her.
"I'm just saying, Clara, what kind of a world are we in where we rely on the military industrial complex to solve all our problems?" Clara glared at her. "Whatever. We need to go underground, with the mole people. Tube tunnels. Where do you keep your lighters?"
"I've quit," said Clara curtly, crossing her arms. Steph continued to observe, but Mattie was used to this by now.
"Where are they?"
"I threw them out."
"Yeah, okay." Clara didn't say anything, they just stared at each other, waiting for one of them to crack. "Are you gonna go get them, or just carry on lying to my face?" Clara was affronted.
"I'm not lying to your face."
"Uh-huh." A long pause followed.
"…They're in the air conditioner."
"Thank you for your honesty," she said, turning to leave and go back into the house.
"Are you still wearing pyjamas?" Steph asked Mattie in the awkward silence.
"I've only just had breakfast…"
"You girls go inside," Clara said, holding out her arm towards the door.
"Really?" Steph was awestruck, "You're inviting me in?"
"Unless you want to stay out here with the blood tree. But don't try to follow us."
"You're really going to go into the tunnels?" Steph asked.
"Apparently so," said Clara, "But, please, go inside, and be good. And don't try to snoop around, Steph, the door to our bedroom is locked."
"You can pick locks."
"In which case I will call the police, and have you arrested for breaking and entering. Then take out a restraining order so you have to go to a different school," said Clara. Steph scowled. Obviously, visiting the house of her favourite teachers wasn't turning out quite how she'd imagined. Then again, Matilda doubted that anything ever turned out how Stefani imagined it would. Clara herded the pair of them into the living room, where Mattie was suddenly acutely aware of all their very strange kick-knacks. The wedding photos, the video tapes, the stacks of books, the vintage telephone, the lobster tank. It was eclectic, to say the least, and Steph couldn't get enough of it.
"Is that a lobster!? It's blue!"
"That's Captain Nemo," said Clara, "Don't open the tank, he bites, and he's always hungry. And if you forget to put the lid back on properly, he'll get out, then we'll have to go find him. Which is surprisingly difficult, given that he's bright blue… Matts, if the phone rings, take a message, and if anything happens, talk to Helix."
"I thought I'm not allowed to answer the phone?" Mattie asked. When Clara said 'the phone', she didn't mean the regular landline, she meant the strange, vintage rotary phone. The Doctor called it the 'time phone' because calls to the TARDIS intended for the Doctor were re-directed to it. This meant all kinds of people rang it, though these weren't usually people the Doctor ever seemed to want to talk to, which begged the question why she'd given them the number at all. Zelda Fitzgerald called a lot.
"Well, now you have permission, while we're out. And if anything funny happens, make sure to let Helix know, and call Rose, okay?"
"Not you?"
"No, Rose," Clara reiterated.
"Who's Rose?" Steph asked.
"My godmother," Mattie explained.
"Funny how?"
"If the Jehovah's come round," Clara said. Meaning, if any crazy, alien stuff happened. The Doctor returned from the kitchen where the air conditioner was and handed Clara two disposable lighters. "The silver one is upstairs."
"I'm going to grab it now, and some aerosols."
"Are you making flamethrowers?" Steph asked.
"Probably," said Clara, examining the lighters.
"Do you smoke?"
"No. Not anymore." Mattie had seen her smoke last Sunday. "Smoking's bad for you."
"It's kind of cool, though," said Steph.
"It's gross," said Matilda, "It stinks. Mum always hated it, you know," she added to Clara specifically.
"Yes, I remember, she never stopped showering me with disapproval."
"I don't think you should go into the tunnels," Steph persisted, "They said on the news – and the army's coming-"
"We're just going to take a look around," Clara assured her, even though Mattie knew they most certainly were not. "We'll be fine."
"But you're just teachers, you can't go, like, fight these tree twats with just deodorant cans and disposable lighters."
"We're going to look for Jake."
"Then I should come."
"No," Clara told her, "Absolutely not. We'll find Jake. And Miss Pickman's cats. Aki's dog. What's the dog's name, again?"
"Hiro," said Mattie.
"We'll go look for them." Steph had absolutely no faith in Clara and the Doctor, but how could she? She didn't know anything about them, who they were, what they'd done. Just two months ago they'd been in what felt like a much worse position, stuck on an island of corpses trying to break into parallel dimension through a haunted house – the 'Unnameable.'
The Doctor came jumping back down the stairs with an old bag and some aerosols.
"You can't be serious," said Steph, "You're literally going to fucking die."
"Watch your language," said Clara, "And I doubt that."
"What?"
"Stay inside," Clara went out into the hall to join the Doctor, "Don't mess with the lobster, don't answer the door, take messages from the phone, tell Helix and Rose if anything happens, okay?"
"Okay," said Mattie.
"We'll be back soon," the Doctor assured her, and with smiles of potentially misplaced confidence, they left Stefani and Matilda alone in the house, locking the door behind them.