Two Ghosts in the Machine, in Love

Oswin

She was dreading what she would find in her rooms when she got home to Adam Mitchell, who had no doubt been pacing around and fretting about the fate of the Vinsomer this whole time. His brand new luxury yacht, state of the art, purchased not even two weeks ago, a rare (if ostentatious) treat to himself. And now it was… the kindest word would be 'disassembled.' The cruellest word would be 'wrecked.' And she really needed to figure out a way to get him to forgive her for all of that because she desperately needed to talk to her boyfriend about some things – and what was the point of boyfriends if not to talk to them? Besides, she had missed him, even if it had only been a few short hours. Even when he was asleep she missed him.

"Alright, first things first-" she said loudly, announcing herself after she entered the room quietly through the sliding door. Typically, Adam was in the dark on the sofa playing video games. Probably to calm his nerves after her little theft that morning. Non-typically, he proceeded to literally scream and practically throw the controller for the PlayStation 4 across the room. It landed with a bang and Oswin screamed as well, if only because he had screamed. Then there was a pause where he met her eyes and then glanced back at the television where some creep laughed and grabbed the character from behind, very quickly. And then they both screamed at the same time at that jump-scare and Adam abruptly switched the TV off completely and plunged the both of them into darkness. She almost tripped over one of his stray pairs of trainers on her way to the light switch.

"Ow," he complained when the room was flooded with brightness, as it never normally was. In the cold light of metaphorical day, the room was quite messy, mostly with things of Adam's. Granted, they were things of Adam's that she had stolen and left lying around – like his dressing gown and his t-shirts she slept in – but it was still not the most pleasant of sights. "You scared me!"

"I scared you two days ago! You ought to pay more attention to what's going on around you, Mitchell," she said, shaking her head, loitering by the door.

"I just got really into Resident Evil 7, that's all… see, I'm not even that into Resident Evil, but Esther was telling me the new one is way more Silent Hill 4 than anything else," he said. She didn't speak, she stayed there, waiting for him to ask the dreaded question. Waiting for him to ask what had become of the Vinsomer. She was clenching her jaw, had her hand tight around her cane. "…What? Have you done something?"

"I'm so sorry."

"What…?" There was a pause, and his eyes widened as he scrambled to get off the sofa. He fell over onto the floor clambering over the back of it, but she managed to hide her fond laughter from him and his sudden and predicted bad mood. She didn't like when Adam Mitchell was angry, because Adam Mitchell was more or less never angry. "Have you broken Vinsomer!?"

"I'm literally so sorry, babe! I've been so upset about it all day, seriously, I didn't know how to tell you and I was scared you'd shout at me when you never shout at me – and it's all my fault for just taking your things! I'm practically as bad as everybody else here who blew up your cars!" she said frantically.

"Wait – what happened to it, though?" And then she had to explain the entire thing. How they and the Vinsomer had been abducted by sea-dwelling scavengers, who had dug up an entire sect of Cybermen out of Peru and killed each other off in hopes of getting the most money from whoever they sold their 'army' to. How they wanted to use the yacht for their salvage, but after making all of the Cybermen aware- "Hold on, you did what to the Cybermen?"

"They're a species now. Well, they were always a species, but… but they don't want genocide anymore. Nios is all over me now I did that. One of them had the same last name as you," Oswin said, "They don't have a leader anymore."

"You single-handedly created a commie robot haven…?" he asked.

"Well – no – I had to use Nios for extra processing power."

"I'm genuinely so in love with you right now," he took her by surprise.

"You're not supposed to be in love with me right now – you're meant to be furious at me for them wrecking your new boat! But I swear – I'll make it up to you. I will. I built an entire spaceship from scratch and designed it all myself, didn't I? I can do a yacht. It'll be way better. I'll name it the Gamordan Stormrider."

"Oh my god…" he stared at her. That was the thing. He thought she didn't listen to all of his ramblings about optional video game dragon bosses. Of course she did, though. She listened to everything he said. "You're the love of my life."

"Mitchell, can you actually hear me!? Your yacht is practically destroyed!" she exclaimed. He sighed.

"It's just a boat, it doesn't matter. You're the only thing that matters," he said softly, and Oswin was very confused, and then he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Some hour or so later (perhaps longer, she couldn't say she had been keeping close track of the time), she was still confused. But they weren't in their flat anymore, oh no. She stood – because where they were she could stand without any artificial aids – in front of a strip of horizontal window. Out of it she could see warm-coloured clouds below and blue sky and pale stars above.

"Why do you keep changing it? It was space last time," she said, looking out at the clouds they were drifting above, her arms crossed, not needed to hold onto anything for support. Adam Mitchell was watching her carefully, curled up in bed, self-conscious. He was always self-conscious after they slept together. She thought it was cute.

"I like this blimp simulation," he said, then grew worried, "Do you not like it? You're so fussy."

"I'm not fussy!" she objected, turning back to look at him. All she wore was underwear – and not even normal underwear, actual lingerie. She put a hand on her hip. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"You are. You hated space because it reminds you of Horizon, you hated underwater because you're scared of the sea, you hated the coast because it's not 'interesting' enough, you hated the forest because of the dirt and the insects and cabins are 'uncivilised,'" he said, which annoyed her because she really had said all of those things.

"You don't have to keep changing the simulation interior for me…" she mumbled.

"The simulation exists for you."

"Oh, please. You can't shag with people in the real world either, Mr Frozen Cock," she remarked.

"Oswin!" he protested. She laughed.

"It's not like it bothers me. If it did I wouldn't continue to let you stick it in me."

"Oh my god."

"…Sorry. I really annoyed Ni today with the way I talk," she sighed, dropping her arms down meekly by her sides. He was embarrassed. That self-conscious thing again.

"Ni?" he asked, "You've given her a nickname too, now? Didn't know the pair of you were so close."

"We ought to be, I adopted her. Me and Jenny. She's our daughter."

"She's not."

"She told me Donna reckons I'm in love with Jenny," Oswin said, finally coming to sit down on the edge bed next to him. When she did he sat up, the sheets all piled up in his lap to salvage his modesty. He was ridiculous.

"You reckon I'm in love with Esther," he pointed out.

"Um, babe, you are in love with Esther. You stayed at hers for hours last night," Oswin said. She'd spent the whole night with Clara for company, he'd gone to Hollowmire to see the Spooks and tell Esther how her job had been changed from passive surveillance of the Echoes to active surveillance, with the silver lining of an even juicer paycheque from the boy-genius. As soon as Oswin presented Clara with her birthday present tomorrow morning, though, guarding the Echoes would hopefully be made a whole lot easier. "None of that's even important – you didn't let me finish telling you about my day! I've been thinking a lot. I want to talk to you about some things. And you'd better not fall asleep again, like last week."

"I was tired!"

"Well I'm sorry if having sex with me bores you that much that you immediately have to go to sleep," she remarked. He glared at her.

"You're clearly in a better mood than you have been recently if you've started making fun of me again."

"Make fun of me back – I don't mind."

"No, I can't do that, that's mean," he said.

"Boys are so weak," she sighed, "But seriously, stop distracting me. You're so distracting. I have to tell you stuff."

"I'm all ears," he finally said.

"I was thinking about my dad," she began, "That's what I've been thinking about for days, ever since we took Fyn to Venus, about how Fyn's going to find him. And it's what I was talking to Clara about yesterday. I'm sorry I haven't confided in you. I just… didn't want you to worry about me."

"I'm usually worrying about you for something or other," he said.

"Well then I didn't want you to worry more about me. But I was speaking to my sister," as she talked she took his hand absently and crossed her legs to be more comfortable, "About if my father would even want to see me after everything I've done, or if he'd just disown me like mother did." Adam began to speak. "No, don't – I don't want to talk about that, I don't want you to sit here and start complimenting me, it won't make a difference. Talking to Clara helped a lot, because she said she's proud of me."

"Of course she is," he assured her.

"And I was talking about all the horrible things I did on Horizon, and she… I don't know – she eventually started talking about all the potential I had to do good things, and how he'd think I was wonderful if I saw him again, and I just had to find some kind of purpose. A purpose that revolves around helping people. So I was up last night thinking about that, and I woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep. Then I got sick of being in here with you because you've only ever done good things with your intellect and you're such a huge philanthropist-"

"Oswin, don't compare yourself to me," he said, "All I did was steal some software. The money I make off it is hardly mine anyway, of course I'm going to give most of it back to people who need it." She stared at him for a while.

"There, see! You're so kind! And I'm not, not at all-"

"You are."

"Shh, I'm still telling you things," she said, "More to go yet." He didn't say another word, so she resumed. "I went into the console room to talk to Nios, and she was reading about nihilism, of all the things, and lack of purpose… anyway, it all happened with these Cybermen. They were being kept down there, as slaves, and everyone was arguing because Mickey was saying the Cybermen had to be killed, and Nios was saying there was no reason they should be killed because the whole reason they were genocidal to begin with was because they were programmed by a lunatic. And then she asked me what I thought."

"What did you think?"

"Well, that was the thing, Mitchell – I didn't think anything." He frowned.

"Really?"

"I told her people usually tell me what to think," Oswin answered. And that was true. That was why she needed Clara, needed her to tell her what was good or bad, what she should be doing, what was real and what wasn't. "Then Nios told me, 'What's the point of being the smartest girl in the universe if you can't even think for yourself?' and that with a mind like mine thinking is the only thing I should be doing.

"Then they were trying to make me 'fix' the Cybermen because I was the only one who'd be able to make them peaceful."

"You basically nerfed them," Adam interjected. She laughed slightly and stopped for a while before carrying on.

"And I said, what right do I have to go poking around in their heads? To create a whole new species and society? I'm not god. And Nios told me that because I'm the only one who can help them, it was my duty to help them. So I did. But I don't know. That's still somebody else telling me what I should be doing…" she trailed off, "I'm not sure I know how to think for myself. First my mother is telling me what to do, then the Cluster Spores, then the Daleks and the Doctor… now Clara. And Nios."

"Clara wouldn't tell you what to think," he said.

"She did!" Oswin argued, "When she brought Ravenwood back to life. I didn't want to do that, but she made me!"

"It worked out though, didn't it? The universe balanced itself after her resurrection by making her into a vampire," Adam pointed out, "And Clara's not a saint, she can be misguided sometimes, everybody can. But she wants what's best for you. You're her favourite, she's always saying it. You know, Oswin, you're only twenty-six. You don't have to have your entire life figured out, you can still be finding your feet." She raised her eyebrows at him, and he nearly choked when he realised what he said. "N-not – not your feet, not finding them. Metaphorical feet, I mean, not – your real ones. Finding your, um… path. Divine path. In life. And stuff." She smiled. She wasn't bothered by him saying something offhand about her feet accidentally.

"You're sweet," she told him, "It's just so frustrating not having anything constructive to do, anything that makes a difference. I thought I would build a memorial for the Dust War, but what good would that do? It would just bring back bad memories for everyone who saw it. They don't need some floating bit of space debris to tell them to mourn, everybody on Horizon is mourning."

"You're still young," he said again, "And you've never been to school."

"…What do you mean…?"

"I mean that there's a difference between a genius and a prodigy. Where there's potential that needs to be built on."

"So I should go to school? Do you have some kind of uniform kink, Mitchell?"

"Eurgh! No! God, you don't have to go to school. But you can still get some sort of more legitimate education, Oswin. Like books. You never read books. I've only ever seen you read books of Fyn's to make fun of him. The Doctor has a huge library."

"That's your solution? To all of my woes?"

He thought about it for a moment, "Well… yeah. Come on, you were made by Clara Oswald, you can't be derived from her without enjoying reading."

"All she reads is trash," Oswin said, and he laughed.

"You're getting snobby."

"I'm not snobby!"

"Stubborn." She pouted.

"…Leave me alone. I hate you."

"How kind of you to say."

"Knew I should never have spoken to you…" There was a pause. She was still holding his hand, mulling over his suggestions.

"How does this Cyberman city work, anyway?"

"Oh, they haven't quite figured that out yet. River wants to keep an eye on it," Oswin said, "At least I managed to stop them from all dying when they saw what they were. Like I said, it's a problem of disassociation. And I have a lot of experience with disassociation. I'll fix your yacht, though, I promise. Vinsomer 2.0. The Gamordan Stormrider."

"I kind of think the Kaltenzahn or the Hivernal are cooler dragons than the Stormrider," he said, "They're cuter."

"The smartest girl in the universe is building you a new boat, you'll get what you're given and you'll be grateful."

"They're the ice elemental dragons, though. So it's fitting."

"Name your boat after whatever pretend dragon you like," she shrugged, "You're such a nerd. Jenny hasn't named her ship after a dragon, you know."

"What has she named it?"

"Oh, god knows. Wouldn't surprise me if she named it after herself, to be honest. I can't keep the names of all of that girl's guns straight in my head." She went back to looking out of the window, but from the bed she couldn't see anything more than the blue sky. Sunlight poured in around them. Funny, going by how dimly-lit every room he occupied was, she would've thought Adam Mitchell's dream locale was a grotty little cave. Just a grotty little cave with a fancy computer sitting in it. And a dirty bed for his nefarious sexual desires.

"So…" he began, getting her attention. She glanced back at him.

"What?" He looked at her hopefully, but she was just confused.

"The smartest girl in the universe is fixing my yacht up," he said, "Is the smartest girl in the universe going to do anything else for me…?"

"Like what? I'm not building you two yachts. That's ridiculous. Although, Mickey said earlier that you should get a luxury submarine. Not that I'd build you one of those, either. Mickey was saying something about Martha this morning, too, that she was sick."

"…Bit of a mood-killer."

"What mood?"

"The romantic mood!"

"There was a romantic mood…?"

"There might have been if you gave me a chance," he muttered.

"…Oh – god, sorry. I didn't realise you were trying to flirt with me. Sure I'll sleep with you again in a minute, if you're not too tired. Why wouldn't I? You don't have to dress it up like some sort of weird exchange – like you're a gigolo who gets paid in boats rather than cash."

"Martha was sick?" he asked, not even bothering to say anything about her last comment.

"Yeah, woke him up, said he was worried about her before he came out. Yesterday she was wide awake at five AM."

"Weird."

"Yeah, I guess. Probably food poisoning, she's been eating all sorts of weird stuff lately. Anyway. How's coffee sound? I love being able to taste it. We can stay here for ages if you like, it's not like there's a time limit," she said, going to stand up. He still had hold of her hand though, and when she rose he tugged on her so that she fell back down and he could plant his lips on hers again. She smiled and kissed back for a second, until saying, "Calm down. I'm making coffee. There'll be plenty of time for that in a while. Have a nap."

"I'm not going to fall asleep," he mumbled, annoyed.

"That's what you said last time! How many sugars do you take, again?" she asked, getting up, relishing in the ability to actually walk for once. He took more sugars in the simulation than out of it, because in the simulation he didn't have to worry about staying healthy by limiting his poor dietary choices.

"You're all the sugar I need," he said. She laughed.

"Fair enough."

"But, um – but three sugars, babe. I'll have three…"