"And how did I end up like... that?" Ruth snorted with laughter at the Doctor's simple outfit of a t-shirt under a leather jacket, and jeans. The Doctor looked down at herself, bemused, but she knew her previous incarnations would likely be critical, too. But she found it rich that this person was criticising her clothes, which were normal for humans when compared to herself. She looked like a naval admiral from a bygone era with a colourful shirt! "Chubby cheeks and all?"
The Doctor glared back at her, absently rubbing her cheeks in offence. "No. How did I end up like you?"
"You don't," Ruth said patiently, clearly getting bored about this. "You're in my future, not the other way round."
Now the Doctor was even more surprised. This...was not a future her; she'd had her doubts, but hearing it...!
"Are you my future? I don't think so; if you were, then you'd remember me," the Doctor pointed out. "Okay, I admit it, I'm only in my second regeneration, but I've never been anything like you."
"What? Did you just say you were only in your second regeneration?" Ruth suddenly took an interest in the Doctor.
"What?" The Doctor was confused by the sudden interest and the question; this woman had been dismissive of her until that moment. "Yes, why?"
"But you can't be! I passed my second regeneration centuries ago!" Ruth said urgently.
"What?"
Together, the two women spoke at the same time, "That's not possible," they both said as they struggled to make sense of what was happening, "Unless it is. But what would that mean? Doesn't make sense. Stop doing that!" They snapped at each other. But they stopped. "Oh. Same brain."
"No," the Doctor shook her head and walked away, "this doesn't make any sense. Either I should know you or you should know me. I know you're not in my past. I know my past. And you don't know me from your past, and yet you think I'm your future, but I don't remember you. How does that make sense?"
"Agreed. It doesn't," Ruth said, busying herself back at the console but the Doctor could see she was just as curious as she was herself. "But you think you're the third of us?"
"I am," the Doctor replied.
"You're not," Ruth sighed simply.
The Doctor watched her. "How many regenerations have you had?" she whispered.
Ruth stared at her solemnly. "Thousands."
The Doctor took a step back in shock. "Again."
"I've had thousands of regenerations. But you don't remember any of them, do you?"
"No...So what's happening? If you passed your first and second regenerations ages ago, and we have the same brain, and the same way of thinking, then why don't I remember you?" The Doctor challenged. "You seem to know more than I do."
"I dunno. Why don't you try asking those cute little gizmos of yours?" Ruth asked with a snort of contemptuous amusement, as the Doctor flipped open her vortex manipulator, and took out her sonic screwdriver.
"Yeah, them."
"I did," the Doctor ground out. "I used the vortex manipulator on you. I tried to scan you, but it couldn't decrypt the bio-shield. I couldn't even use the sonic screwdriver to see if it could help…. If you've been restored...," the Doctor urgently tapped a command into the manipulator and jabbed it at Ruth and then herself. She closed her eyes when she read the results, and she had to open them again to make sure. "Same person."
Somehow saying that made this all real.
"Oh, no," Ruth rolled her eyes.
But the Doctor was still confused. "I don't understand this," meeting one of her lives, she could understand, but this was out of her comfort zone. She looked down at the console for a moment before her hands danced over the controls.
Ruth, alerted to what she was doing, looked up sharply. "What are you doing?"
But the Doctor hadn't finished. She closed her eyes again. "I just ran a quantum scan of us; vortex manipulators can't do it, but a TARDIS can. I thought for a moment you might be a version of me from the future, from a different reality. But you're not. We're both from the same universe. But how is that possible? You don't recognise a sonic screwdriver. And you don't remember me having a vortex manipulator," the Doctor said.
"Smart enough not to need one of either, thanks."
The Doctor bristled at her attitude. "Oh yeah, nothing screams smart like a laser rifle. Why do you even have one in the first place?"
"I stored that before hiding, cos I knew Gat would come one day, and now she has," Ruth checked the controls and started working on them.
"Who is this Gat?" The Doctor leaned forward, her eyes spitting. "And don't jerk me around this time, I want to know who she is."
Ruth sighed and she finally admitted, "I worked for her once."
"Worked? You've got a job?"
"Oh, sort of. I wouldn't call it that, though. Not one you apply for, and not one you can ever leave. Believe me, I tried."
"That's why you ran away, isn't it? That's why you've been hiding on Earth. You used that Chameleon Arch to hide your identity, to hide your mind, even from yourself. And Lee was your protector. But why, who is Gat? Is she Celestial Intervention Agency?"
Ruth stared at her in growing surprise and suspicion. "You really don't know, do you? You've…forgotten, haven't you?"
"Forgotten?" The Doctor felt a chill pass through her.
She had often had the curious notions of deja vu, long before she had even stepped into the TARDIS and left Gallifrey. But she had always dismissed them.
"About our lives. About Division," Ruth said, looking imploringly at the Doctor. "Please, if you are me, you must know and remember Division?" She finished with such desperate hope that the Doctor looked away. "Tell me you remember!"
"I don't," the Doctor whispered. "What's Division?"
Ruth stepped back in horror. "No, they couldn't have. She couldn't have," she whispered in denial.
"Who couldn't have done what?" The Doctor snapped, but before the Doctor or Ruth could say anything else, the TARDIS shook.
"What's that?" The Doctor asked, feeling the TARDIS shift. "What's happening?"
"It's Gat," Ruth said, "She's here. The Judoon have got us in a tractor beam, dragging us onboard their ship. Now listen to me, Doctor. It will be easier for both of us if we both make contact."
Ruth raised her fingers and pressed them against the Doctor's temple. "Contact."
"Contact," the Doctor whispered.
