Scattered Thoughts From Across the Cosmos

by CJ-1021

Part of "3 Doctors 9 Companions" series / Discarded drafts, excerpts, short short stories and long short stories, one-shots, drabbles and other pieces of flotsam and jetsam that just don't quite fit within any of my other fics - but they're still as good as they can be!

21. Day 124 Rewrites 900-908

AN: As well as rewriting a lot of Clarenny, I've also ended up rewriting a lot of the Hollowmire stuff concerning Sally and Esther, including making the village Hollowmire from the beginning. You'll also note that I've returned Sally's title to her, the one she tells Rose was lost before she was born in "Who's Afraid of Rose Tyler?" This is because I learnt about special remainders that allow women to inherit titles so, there is a legal route for her to hold the title, which I didn't know before.

DAY 124

Rewritten March/April 2024

900: A Day in the Death

Ravenwood

The Bibles burned her eyes. It was her first week on the job in Hollowmire's bookshop, and she had been asked to restock their philosophy and religion section. It was just half a shelf and only two Bibles were even in the box, but they were thwarting her every attempt to move them. Could she touch them if she wore gloves? If she used some kind of tool? She certainly didn't have a Bible-grabbing tool to hand. It was confounding; yet another undead frustration she had encountered, along with the sunlight, the garlic, and the potent, enticing smell of the hot blood that ran through the veins of everybody who walked past the shop. Vampirism was all caveats and conditions.

"Did you finish those shelves yet, Clara?" asked Dylan Danvers, the owner, at the till dealing with lists of stock while Clara put things out for sale. She hadn't yet worked out how this bookshop had remained in business; nobody ever came in and bought anything, and it was open bizarre hours, from nine in the morning to nine at night. This suited Clara because she didn't have to be there until the afternoon, but it was abnormal.

"Nearly," she said, deciding that she'd better just grin and bear it and let the books burn her skin. But something distracted her: a new smell.

That was the issue with being in the village – the smells. Humans had their ordinary smell, the one that made her ravenous and forced her to keep her flask of blood always at hand, but on top of that they had their own musk, all the more pronounced now that her senses had been amplified. Dylan only smelt of books and Hugo Boss; but there was somebody new, right outside the doors, feet shuffling on the pavement, breathing softly, the smell of perfume – something cheap Clara didn't recognise, but full of pistachio – rainwater, rubber, and musty wool.

The shop's bell tinkled, and a woman walked in, right in Clara's line of sight. She was one of the most beautiful women Clara had ever seen in her life, but understated – wearing an old trench coat, old jumper, old jeans, and some dilapidated wellington boots. She was gorgeous and she smiled at Dylan, not seeing Clara at all, transfixed in the shadowy shelves.

"Ah, here she is," said Dylan, speaking only to the stranger. "I didn't think you'd ever get around to collecting your letters."

"I might burn them yet," she said. Dylan opened a drawer on the desk and pulled out a few envelopes, handing them to her. With a glum look on her face, she flipped through them, then turned them over to check the return addresses. "Any phone calls?"

"Yes," said Dylan. He'd been on the phone frequently since Clara arrived, but she'd tried to ignore what he'd been saying. "You shouldn't have given them the shop's number; I'm trying to run a business here."

"Your parents are paying for you to pretend to run a business, you mean," said the woman.

"We're making good money in antique books, actually – mostly online," he said. "Which you know. They think we're a couple, by the way. They think you've run away with me."

"I'm sure they're thrilled, desperate social climbers that they are," she said, making Dylan laugh. With a sigh, she put the letters away. "Don't you get bored in here with your books all day, alone?"

"I've got help now, actually," said Dylan, leaning forwards on the desk so that he could spot Clara in the stacks. "This is Clara." The woman turned to face her with warm, brown eyes and smiled when she apparently recognised her.

"Clara!" she said. "God, how strange that you're here… Did something happen with the Doctor?" Clara stared at her.

"You know each other?" said Dylan.

"I, um…" Clara stammered. "I'm not sure. I think I'd remember if I had." She definitely would.

"Of course we've met, you…" The woman stopped and looked at her. She'd realised Clara was a vampire, which kept happening. The humans didn't know that that was what they'd realised specifically, but they clocked that something was wrong with her; she could smell their adrenaline and hear their heart rates increase as the fight or flight response kicked in. But the woman only cleared her throat and tried to put it out of her mind. "In Staffordshire, at Halloween. Ghost children. You and your sister?" Alpha Clara and Oswin.

"Right, no, sure," said Clara, shaking her head. "I've gotten forgetful recently, could you remind me…?"

"This is Sally Sparrow, the Countess of Hove," said Dylan, putting Clara out of her misery. She'd heard them talk about Sally Sparrow on the TARDIS before, and how Other Her couldn't behave rationally around her. She was beginning to see why. But – what was that Dylan had said?

"Don't call me that," said Sally, visibly uncomfortable. She turned back to Clara. "And I'm in hiding – don't tell anybody my whereabouts. In fact, tell them I've gone to Hove to reclaim my ancestral land."

"Who would I tell?" said Clara. "Who are you hiding from?"

"Her fiancé," said Dylan.

"He's not my fiancé anymore, and it's mostly the vendors demanding money and his friends saying I'm a disgrace for… Doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm stuck up here, in Yorkshire, with no way to pay my rent, being hounded about how the entire wedding cake has been frozen for weeks and they want me to go and get it – in what car? Answer me that?" She was mainly talking to Dylan.

"I told you; you shouldn't have sold that 7 Series."

"I needed the cash," said Sally. "It cleared my credit card debts, at least."

"Yeah, and now you've been forcing me to drive you down to Hebden Bridge if you need to catch a train," said Dylan. "You should go back to London and get the Vantage."

"It needs new brakes," she said. "And I don't like driving, anyway; I've never been good at it. It took me five tries to pass my test."

"I know, I remember you going on about it at uni." So that was how they knew each other.

"A Vantage?" asked Clara, her curiosity piqued. She knew a bit about cars and had passed her test first time. "An Aston Martin, you mean?" She had an Aston Martin and a BMW 7 Series?

"It – yes," said Sally, shaking her head a little. "It's just a car."

"Yeah, it's just an eighty-three V8 Vantage," said Dylan. "Which nobody's driven in almost ten years. My mother's been trying to buy it from her."

"It was my dad's car, and it's staying in his garage." She was resolute. Dylan sighed and gave in. Sally moved on, turning to Clara again, who was trying not to stare at her too much. "He tried to get me to do this job, you know."

"Because you've been complaining about how you can't afford your rent the entire time you've been here," said Dylan.

"That's because I need a housemate, not because I need another job," said Sally.

"Another job? I didn't know you had one in the first place," he said.

"You live here, too?" said Clara. She had never heard of Hollowmire, and almost nothing came up online when she had tried to search for it. But here was Sally Sparrow, somebody else who had been touched by the TARDIS, living in the same time and place that Clara had been exiled to.

"Yes. Difficult place to find; good for hiding when you, er-"

"Jilt someone at the altar?" Dylan suggested.

"It was mutual," said Sally. "Nobody was jilted. But it is like being a fugitive the way Larry's friends are hounding me… And all these vendors. Christ."

"Hey," said Dylan. "It'll be alright, Sal. And you never liked his friends, anyway. They're different from us."

"What? Because they're not moneyed? Don't be such an arsehole," said Sally.

"Fine, I'm sorry," Dylan rolled his eyes. "It's all just a big joke, Clara; Sally's real, dyed-in-the-wool working class," he said. "Comes from a long line of coal miners."

"A lot of people in my family were coal miners," said Clara, wiping the smug smile from Dylan's face.

"God, sometimes it's like you've never even met a normal person, Dylan," said Sally. "Some people work for a living, and they don't have their parents around to buy shops for them so that they can play at being an antiques dealer."

"I've got a lot of experience, I-" He was interrupted by the phone ringing in the back. He shot Sally a glare and then asked Clara to cover the front desk while he went to answer it, threatening to reveal Sally's whereabouts if it was anybody looking for her.

"Wonder who it is," said Sally, craning her neck to look into the back.

"Somebody asking after the copy of Wildfell Hall he's just acquired," said Clara, who could hear him. "First edition. Very valuable. He won't let me have it."

"I could lend you one," said Sally.

"Oh, no, that's alright," said Clara. For the first time, she was glad that her transition into the world of the undead had stopped her from being able to blush. She was still reeling with one of the most intense crushes of her life, though, and ignoring the Bibles. "I've already got a copy, it's just not a first edition."

"Right," said Sally. "I've got a first edition, I think. Although, it's in London."

Clara stared at her. "Do you collect books?"

"No, no, it's been there for… Well, since it was written, I assume – in the library."

"You… You've got a house in London with a library?" said Clara. But Sally Sparrow didn't want to answer her questions.

"What happened with the Doctor?" she changed course very inelegantly, but Clara let her. Dylan would probably be able to answer her questions about this library later, anyway.

"I'm, um, I'm not the Clara that you've met. I do know that Clara, and Oswin, but I'm not them. I'm from a parallel universe." She had to concentrate very hard to produce coherent sentences.

"And you're here?" said Sally. "What's going on? Are you investigating something? Because I do think there's something odd about this village, Dylan sold me this book-"

"I'm not investigating, no," said Clara, cutting her off. "I've moved here, from London. I suppose I'm doing a similar thing to you, and I'd also prefer not to talk about it."

"You've moved to a completely different universe?"

"Yes."

"Why did you have to leave London, then? If you've already left your original universe, couldn't you have stayed in a parallel London?" said Sally. Clara didn't have a good answer. "What's it like there? Where you're from?"

"Almost exactly the same."

"Oh, right."

"I never married the Doctor. That's the difference."

"No flying cars, then?"

"No."

"So, you've left a universe without flying cars to come to a different universe that also doesn't have flying cars?" said Sally, smiling at her. "Why pick this one instead of a third option with better stuff?"

"I don't know. I suppose I quite like the one where beautiful women come into bookshops and flirt with me," said Clara, crossing her arms and leaning on the shelves.

"I wasn't flirting," said Sally, but she was still smiling, unfazed. "I'm straight. But I'll take the compliment; thank you."

"Are you sure?" said Clara. "You do appear to have run away from the capital because you really didn't want to marry a man."

"We mutually didn't want to marry each other," said Sally, putting her hands in her coat pockets. "But I suppose that's a fair cop. Is this why you're not married to the Doctor, then? You're gay?"

"I'm bi, so's the other one. But I'm dating his daughter now."

"And does she mind about you flirting with everybody who comes in here?" asked Sally.

"We… may not have spoken about that, specifically," Clara admitted. And after Jenny's previous relationship with the universe's most notorious shagger, maybe Jenny would have a problem with her flirting. They definitely needed to talk about it, at any rate.

Dylan came back, annoyed.

"Not a serious buyer," he said. "You'd think people would be jumping at the chance to have a first edition around here since we're only down the road from Haworth."

"They're probably drowning in Brontë first editions up there," said Sally Sparrow. "They've no need for another one."

"I'll buy it," said Clara. "Fifty quid."

"It's worth a hundred times that, which you know," said Dylan. Then he saw the box at her feet. "And you still didn't finish with those Bibles."

"I just – I disagree with it, alright? Organised religion."

"Sometimes people buy them."

"Surely all the proper Christians already have Bibles, though?" said Sally.

"It's two books, just put them on the shelf."

"It isn't as easy as it looks," said Clara.

"I'm going to the loo, and if that's still not done, I'll… Well, I don't know, I'll think of something." He stomped away again. Shit. Clara couldn't get fired after only a few days, that wouldn't be any good.

"Do you need some help with that?" asked Sally.

"I… Yes. I can't explain why, but yes, that would be nice." Sally smiled again and Clara stepped aside so that she could pick up the two books and slide them onto the shelf. It only took a few seconds. Clara could have done it, but her skin had started smoking when she'd tried to touch one earlier, and it felt as if she was pouring boiling water over her hands. "Thanks."

"It's absolutely fine."

"What coat are you wearing?" Clara couldn't resist asking, getting a better look at it when Sally came closer.

"This old thing? It's Massimo Dutti, I think," she said.

"Blimey," said Clara. "It's very nice."

"It was a present, a long time ago. I'd better leave before Dylan comes back; I only came for my post. I don't want him trying to buy books from me," she said. "But maybe we'll see each other around. I'm only down the road, on Lunar Terrace."

"I still haven't got my bearings here, but, sure. It'd be nice to have somebody to talk to other than my girlfriend. Not that there's anything wrong with talking to Jenny," she added quickly. "She's wonderful. But, uh, yes. Very nice to meet you, Sally Sparrow."

Just as Dylan returned, the front door swung closed behind Sally, and Dylan cursed that they hadn't been able to sell her anything. But at least their Bibles were now available for purchase.

---

Rewritten April 2024

901: Another Girl Another Planet X

Jenny & Ravenwood

Clara had an odd walk home. She was completely absorbed in thoughts of Sally Sparrow, wishing she'd come up with some excuse to get her phone number. But she also kept thinking she could smell soap on the air, strong and perfumy, as she skulked through the darkness to get back to the cottage. To her surprise, the lights were on. She checked her phone but had no messages from Jenny.

"Hello? Are you here, Jen?" Clara called after she unlocked the front door, leaning on the wall to unlace her boots.

"I'm just baking!" Jenny shouted back, making Clara wince because of the volume. She didn't say anything else, just kicked off her shoes, hung up her coat, and headed through the tiny main room where Jenny was pouring cake batter into a tin.

"You're making yourself at home, then?" said Clara. "We've only been an item for a week."

"I didn't think you'd mind," said Jenny. She glanced over her shoulder at Clara, leaning on one of the kitchen chairs behind her. "Do you mind?"

"I don't know. Would you text me to let me know you're here if you feel like showing up when I'm out, in future?" asked Clara.

"Are you giving me rules?" said Jenny, finishing her cake pour. "We always break all our rules." Clara didn't say anything. She thought about how she was feeling as Jenny loaded her cake into the oven; it smelt delicious. "Are you angry?"

"No, no," said Clara with a sigh. "I'm just getting used to things, that's all. I can't say I've had a relationship before where somebody has a key to my house to let themselves in. Other than Nina, I suppose, but she did live there, too."

"I thought you told me you've never lived with a partner before?" said Jenny.

"She wasn't, it was all complicated. We were together and agreed to house share at uni – with other people and with our own rooms – but, then we split up and were stuck living together for all of second year." Clara shook her head, wanting to move on from all memories of Nina. "Anyway. Will you just text next time, please?" She smiled at Jenny.

"Yeah, sure. Just to clarify, I can let myself whenever, though?"

"Why do you want to?" asked Clara.

"Sometimes I need time away on a whim," Jenny shrugged.

"Well… okay," Clara relented. "You're gorgeous, I can't say no to you being in my house whenever you like. Is there anything to eat?"

"There'll be a chocolate cake a few hours from now?" said Jenny. "But what would you like? I'll make something."

"Do you know what I really want?" said Clara. Jenny shrugged. "Beans on toast."

"I'd love to make beans on toast for you," said Jenny. "But look! Coffee table!" She pointed at the middle of the room. Somehow, Clara hadn't noticed it, a rough, oak table now sitting comfortably between the sofa and the television. It blended in with the dark carpet. "I was dropping it off."

"You really did make me a table?" Clara stared at it. "And now you're baking a cake? I – Jenny, you just – sometimes, I don't know how to handle you."

"That's not true," said Jenny, opening a tin of beans and tipping them into a plastic measuring jug. "You know how to handle me very well."

"I'm not bringing anything to this relationship, though," said Clara. "I don't know how to bake or build things."

"You don't need to," said Jenny. "And don't be silly, you bring plenty. I like doing things for you; the act of doing those things is enriching."

"I just feel like a leech sometimes," Clara admitted, pulling out a chair.

"You're not a leech," said Jenny. "Even if you do drink blood." Clara turned in the chair so that she could get a better look at the coffee table; raw, varnished wood full of imperfections that made it very artisanal.

"Did you chop the tree down yourself?"

"Of course," said Jenny. "I once built myself a log cabin from scratch." Clara stared at her. Jenny noticed and laughed a little. "Okay. I'll make a deal with you."

"What?"

"When you're two hundred and eight years old, we can sit down and talk about all the interesting skills you'll inevitably have learnt by then," said Jenny.

Clara thought about this while Jenny finished making her beans on toast, not saying another word until Jenny set the piping-hot plate down in front of her.

"Can we, erm… not talk about the, uh, vampiric immortality? For the moment," said Clara. "I don't want to think about it."

"Sure," said Jenny, leaning in and kissing her cheek to finally say hello properly. "How was your day, then? I've just spent mine putting the finishing touches on the coffee table."

"You won't believe who I ran into," said Clara, scooping up beans with her fork. "Sally Sparrow, in town. She lives here and she's friends with Dylan, the owner of the bookshop."

Jenny frowned. "That's an odd coincidence."

"If it's a coincidence at all. Wasn't the Doctor very insistent about me coming to live in this backwater village?" said Clara.

"What do you think she's trying to do? Set you two up?"

"I…"

"What?"

"Have you met her?" asked Clara.

"No, I've not had the pleasure."

"Jenny," Clara was very serious. "She's so hot. I could barely talk to her. But she's straight."

"Did she tell you that?"

"Yes. Because I asked her out. Sorry about that."

"Do I need to go and have a word with her?" said Jenny. "Where does she live?"

"A word?"

"A friendly conversation."

"You know, for someone so small, you can be quite frightening."

"I'll get my coat and go find her right now," said Jenny, standing up. Clara touched her arm, and she sat back down.

"Don't go and beat up Sally Sparrow," said Clara. "The bruises on your hand have only just healed. Also, if I was going to cheat on you – which I'm not – it would be me you should have the issue with. She is absurdly good-looking, though. She's got dimples."

"You've got dimples," said Jenny. "Doesn't that make them less exciting? Or is that what you're getting off on? The similarity?"

"I think there are at least two other people we know that I could try and seduce first if that was what I was interested in," Clara countered. Jenny pulled a face. "See? You didn't like that, did you?"

"Eat your beans," said Jenny, stewing. Clara grinned at her, fangs and all, and did just that. Sometimes, only beans on toast would do.

While she ate, she told Jenny about the rare copy of Wildfell they'd got in, as well as what she'd managed to learn about Sally and Dylan by listening in on their conversation – i.e., they were both poshos. It didn't take her long to finish and persuade Jenny that she didn't need her to take the TARDIS to the 1840s and get another first edition for her, by which point she was desperate for a shower.

"Why shower now?" asked Jenny when Clara stood up. She took Clara's hand and pulled, and Clara fell into her lap at the kitchen table, unable to stop herself from giggling. "Shower later."

"This would work better if you weren't so short," said Clara.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm the perfect height to reach the parts of you I want to reach." Clara gave in and leant down to kiss her, but she'd already made her mind up, pulling away when Jenny tried to continue.

"I'm showering," she got to her feet. "I…" She paused, eyes going to the kitchen window. Jenny still had her hand; she squeezed.

"What?"

"Do you smell that? Like soap. Strong soap." Jenny sniffed.

"No, sorry," she said.

"I smelt it in the village, too," said Clara. It was thick in her nose.

"Do you hear anything?" asked Jenny.

"No."

"I tell you what. You go shower, and I'll have a look around outside," she said. "I'll see if anything's amiss." She didn't think anything was amiss and suspected Clara's heightened senses were playing tricks on her, but it wouldn't hurt to look around in case there was a source.

This placated Clara enough and she headed into the bathroom. Jenny tidied the kitchen, rinsing off Clara's plate, and then went to investigate. The night was crisp, quiet, and still. Cold, and her breath made clouds, but she could smell the grass and the countryside. And then she smelt something else. Soap. Very strong, like Clara had said. She wracked her brain, trying to come up with any hostile or dangerous alien races that gave off a smell like that, but drew a blank. She heard nothing when she strained her ears.

Jenny walked the perimeter of the cottage, passing underneath the narrow, bathroom window, through which she could hear the music that Clara had started playing through her phone. It wasn't something she recognised, but Clara was singing along softly. She smiled and sighed, then kept walking.

She walked all the way around, seeing nothing – but when she'd finished, she found that the front door was ajar. Had she forgotten to close it fully? Not when Clara was in the shower, she wouldn't have. Suspicious, she pushed it open slowly so that it didn't creak. She could still hear the music and the water running. When she turned to close and lock the door a shape shoved her.

They were human – or humanoid – and pressed their forearm into her throat, ramming her against the wall.

"Where's the vampire?" asked a woman's voice. She was dressed all in black with her face covered, but bright, human eyes looked through a balaclava at Jenny. Around her neck were two wreaths: one of garlic cloves, and another of what looked, and smelled, like bath bombs. Jenny struggled, but the intruder was stronger than she looked.

"Vampires don't exist," Jenny croaked. She kneed her attacker in the abdomen as hard as she could, making them buckle, and backed away. Jenny coughed a little. "We can work all this out, there's no need for any violence."

"There's a vampire in this house, and I intend to put that right," she said. Jenny saw she had numerous stakes strapped to her in an oversized bandolier, but the stakes weren't her weapon of choice. She drew a sword from the scabbard on her back, and not just any sword.

"Is that a katana!?" said Jenny, dodging a very close sweep of the sword that could have sliced her middle clean open.

"Just tell me where the vampire is!"

"No!" said Jenny, ducking the sword again. But it was coming faster and stronger than she expected, almost too fast for her to react to. She backed away to the kitchen and picked up another tin of baked beans, one she'd been saving for herself, and lobbed it at the ninja. It struck her on the head, and she reeled, giving Jenny enough time to weave around her and pick up Clara's umbrella.

"Didn't anybody tell you not to bring an umbrella to a knife fight?" said the girl, brandishing her sword again.

"I wouldn't want to get caught short in the rain!" said Jenny. And then they were fencing.

Rarely, if ever, had Jenny lost a fight. Somebody had to catch her really off-guard for that to work, or they had to be very, very good. Too good. Jenny could barely hold her own. Her footwork was sloppy, her mind elsewhere, the shimmer of the silver sword in the candlelight too distracting.

But then Jenny saw something else. A gun holstered to the girl's belt, a gun from the future – thousands of years in the future. It had an insignia on it that she recognised.

"I think you should stand down, Sergeant," she said. The woman's form faltered. Jenny took the opportunity to try and knock the sword from her hand, but she kept hold of it. She didn't strike, though. She pointed it at Jenny and stood.

"Why would you call me that?" she asked.

"Your gun. You're a Sergeant in the Homeworld Alliance. I'm ordering you to stand down."

"You don't have that authority," she swung the sword again, and Jenny rebuffed it with the umbrella.

"Actually, as Major Young of the Eighteen-Nineteen Company, I do have the authority to order a Sergeant to stand down!" said Jenny, pushing against her. She staggered back in shock.

"You… What luck!" she said. "I find a vampire and a war criminal under the same roof!"

"You what?"

"Major Young? Deftan? 4881?" said the stranger. "You're the subject of the biggest bounty hunt in Alliance history."

"Your information's all wrong," said Jenny. Why would she be the subject of an Alliance bounty hunt?

"Oh, that's rich!" The sword came back, with even more aggression. "Everybody in the galaxy knows your name, and you're here! On Earth, hiding! A million dead!"

"What?"

"The Polaris Death Charge, that. Was. You!" Swing, swing, swing. She sliced Jenny's leg, just above her thigh. White hot pain and blood.

"I didn't," said Jenny. "I didn't do… I didn't, I – I can't have – I wouldn't-"

She hadn't done that on Deftan. She had left, she had deserted. That was a crime, sure, but it wasn't the death charge. It wasn't millions of lives lost.

"This is pathetic," said the stranger.

"Who are you?"

"If only I trusted the Alliance to do the right thing and court martial you properly – but that's the least you deserve," she said. "I'll kill you." she swung again, knocking the umbrella from Jenny's hands. "I'll honour your victims." She swung the sword and cut the palm of Jenny's organic hand, then kicked her in the wounded leg so hard that she fell to her knees. "And I'll slay that vampire."

The bathroom door was forced open, but it was too late. The stranger ran her sword through Jenny's chest, severing the arteries between her two hearts. Jenny gasped with pain, her eyes glazing over.

"JENNY!" Clara's scream was gut-wrenching.

Something had been stopping her from leaving the bathroom. The stench of garlic and soap. She hadn't managed to fight through it in time, and walked out, wrapped in a towel, to the sight of Jenny being cut down by a ninja. The ninja looked up and met her eyes. Recognition.

"Clara?" they said.

"Jenny! Christ, what have you done!?"

The stranger withdrew the sword, slick with blood. Jenny collapsed sideways. Clara couldn't hear her hearts anymore, only stuttering as she squirmed wordlessly on the floor, blood pooling on the kitchen tiles. Clara knelt by her side trying fruitlessly to put pressure on the wound, but it went all the way through. She clutched Jenny's hand instead. How could this be happening again? How could she lose a great love of her life again?

"Clara!" the stranger shouted. Clara looked up, her eyes full of tears. The stranger had taken off the mask, still stinking so much of garlic that Clara's throat burned to be in the room.

It was Ashildr.

Clara had so many questions, but no opportunity to ask them. Jenny was dying, and she was dying fast. Clara hardly even noticed the sound of the TARDIS thrumming, and she didn't hear a word Ashildr said as she rambled, trying to explain something that was unjustifiable. She didn't care. Jenny was there in her arms with the life draining from her, Clara hanging onto her like she was the only thing in the world. She was the only thing in the world.

There was a new smell. Cinnamon. The front door creaked. Ashildr was pushed aside. A newcomer was next to Clara, touching Jenny's cheek. The Doctor. If only she'd gotten there a few minutes sooner.

"I'm here, Blue," she told Jenny quietly. "Dad's here. You'll be okay. I promise."

---

Rewritten April 2024

903: Lock Up Your Daughter

Ravenwood & Thirteen

"She'll be okay, Clara," said the Doctor, putting a hand on Clara's shoulder. Ashildr was still there, still watching, still asking questions that Clara didn't want to answer.

"This keeps happening," said Clara. "How can this keep happening? We're cursed."

"You're not cursed."

"Five times," said Clara. "Five times we've both died, combined, since we met. And it wasn't that long ago. It's like our universes are trying to keep us separate."

"Yes, the universe is trying to keep you separate – that's why you both keep coming back," said the Doctor dryly. "Listen to me. I'm going to look after her, you go and get dressed, quickly. Then we'll take her onto the TARDIS."

"I can't leave her," said Clara.

"It'll only be for a minute," said the Doctor softly. Clara didn't move. "Please, Clara. I have to take out her eyes, and you shouldn't have to see that."

"You have to what?"

"She's regenerating. If the cybernetic ones aren't removed, she's going to be in agony when her body heals and rejects them," said the Doctor. "Clara, I mean it. Just put some clothes on." She was still wrapped in her towel.

The Doctor had to help her stand. Neither of them could bear to see Jenny on the floor like that, but the Doctor helped her, nonetheless, guiding her past Ashildr to the door into the cottage's cellar. She left the door open and then returned to Jenny's side, after fetching a bowl from the draining board and switching off the oven so that Jenny's cake didn't burn.

"You're very lucky I have other things on my mind," said the Doctor quietly, drawing out her sonic screwdriver so that she could treat Jenny. "Don't you stop and think before you murder people?"

"I was doing justice," said Ashildr. "And who are you?"

"I'll give you a clue: that blue box out there? It's mine."

"You can't be the Doctor."

"I can be, and I am. And this is Jenny. She's my daughter, and she didn't do what you think she did," said the Doctor. "I can't bear that you're putting Clara through this."

"Clara's dead."

"She was dead. Now, she's something else."

"What have you done?" asked Ashildr seriously. "You didn't have another Mire kit, did you? You were supposed to let her go."

"You want to know what I've done?" The Doctor turned to face Ashildr, fire in her eyes. "You have no right to ask me that after you've executed my little girl. And I'm not that Doctor. I'm the Twelfth Doctor from a parallel universe. Believe it or not, this is the first time we've met – but I know all about you." It broke the Doctor to have to loosen and remove Jenny's eyes while she lay there, limp and lifeless.

"Shouldn't you stand back?" said Ashildr. "If she's regenerating."

"I think you should stand back," said the Doctor. "Or somebody might do something they regret. Something else they regret."

Clara came back, her hair still soaking wet but wearing the most comfortable clothes she could have found, old leggings and a t-shirt Jenny had left. She covered her nose as she came back into the living room, giving Ashildr and her garlic necklace a wide berth. She took Jenny's hand again, the left, while the Doctor worked on releasing the right from where it was grafted onto her. Clara saw the eyes in the bowl and suppressed another sob.

"You're a vampire," said Ashildr. "I was hunting a vampire out here, and it's you."

"Who told you there was a vampire in Hollowmire in the first place?" asked Clara.

"Did you say she isn't responsible for what happened on Deftan?" Ashildr asked the Doctor.

"She's innocent of all charges."

"What charges?" asked Clara.

Jenny gasped and coughed, life rushing back into her, grabbing hold of Clara, the nearest person.

"You want to make yourself useful?" the Doctor asked Ashildr. "Bring me the first aid kit from under the sink." Ashildr was deep in thought, but she did, Clara recoiling from the garlic. It was hard to tell whether her eyes were watering from grief or that wreath. "And take that thing off. Clara isn't going to hurt you, obviously. If she was, she'd've gone for you already, seeing as you're bleeding. And don't run off."

"I don't run from my responsibilities, thanks," said Ashildr, obeying.

"I can't see anything," said Jenny, struggling to talk.

"I know, Blue," said the Doctor. "Your eyes are going to grow back. Just hold on." From the first aid kit, she took a roll of bandages and wrapped them around Jenny's head, covering her empty eye sockets to protect them. Then she went back to the hand. When Ashildr returned, having dumped her garlic on the moors, the Doctor ordered her to bring over all the kitchen tea towels.

"What for?" asked Clara, but then she saw. With the robotic hand released, Jenny's severed wrist began bleeding.

"Keep the towels on it, it'll stop soon," said the Doctor.

"Clara…" said Jenny.

"I'm here, I'm right here," Clara assured her.

"You're the Doctor, and she's your daughter?" asked Ashildr, looking from the Doctor to Jenny and back. "There's a resemblance, I suppose… but that makes you… Zero?"

"In the flesh," Jenny groaned, coughing a little.

"What does that mean? What's 'Zero'?" Clara asked Jenny, but she didn't explain. She looked at Ashildr, who also wasn't forthcoming. "Fine. I'll wait until you feel better and ask again."

"It was Major Austin Cargill," said Ashildr.

"How do you know that name?" asked Jenny, breathing deeply while Clara tried to stem the bleeding from her hand.

"He's the one who told me there was a vampire around here. Him and his wife."

"He was a First Lieutenant when I saw him last," said Jenny. "He wanted to order an assault on the Nomatee base. Who are you?"

"She's called Ashildr," said Clara. "She is – was – a Viking, but she died. My Doctor brought her back to life with alien technology. But he brought her back forever. Maybe that should've made me less surprised by your stunt with those nanogenes," she said this to the Doctor, who took over from Clara with the tea towels after dropping the hand and eyes into a bowl. Back to Ashildr, "Do you time travel now?"

"What?" Ashildr stared at her. "Clara, you… You remember, don't you?"

"Remember what?"

"Ev… everything… You were time-locked, and we… We had a TARDIS. I have a TARDIS."

"Because that sounds like a good idea," the Doctor grumbled.

"We got it from Gallifrey, it has nothing to do with you," said Ashildr.

"Is that what I was doing?" said Clara.

"Yes. For a decade. Until you went back to Gallifrey."

"A decade?"

"You don't remember… Can I sit down? Somebody's… somebody's made a fool of me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of this."

"Fine," said Clara, letting Ashildr sit at the kitchen table, deep in thought.

"It's the time lock," said the Doctor. "The way she was frozen, none of those memories became permanent. We brought her back with nanogenes after she'd already been to Gallifrey."

"The last thing I remember is seeing Rigsy," said Clara.

"What about him?" asked Ashildr quickly.

"I don't know, something to do with a tattoo, and then nothing. Do you know?" asked Clara. "Did I tell you what happened when I still remembered? How I died?"

"You don't know that, either?" said Ashildr. "It, erm…" Clara narrowed her eyes. With the garlic and the bath bombs gone, her senses were working again. She could hear Ashildr's heart, smell the adrenaline, and see all the tiny movements she made as she tried not to fidget. "It was a quantum shade, it killed you."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"You're lying," said Clara.

"Nobody can really tell when people are lying. That's a myth."

"I can," said Clara. She remembered what they'd told her about the vampires, how she'd been ordered to reveal who Jenny was. "Tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Ashildr repeated, still lying. "Were you trying to compel me? My Clara wouldn't have done that."

"Your Clara?" asked Clara. "What are you hiding?"

"What are you hiding? For ten years, all you told me about her was that you 'couldn't face her'. You left everything behind, and now you're here, in a cottage, playing house with an alien."

"Sounds like you," said the Doctor.

"In what way?" said Clara.

"You did avoid facing me and telling me how you really felt, and made a whole, new universe because of it," said the Doctor. Clara glared at her.

"I don't think we're at a stage where we can all make jokes about that with each other, thanks. You know that I'm in love with your daughter."

"And did you tell her?" said the Doctor.

"Well, I…" She hadn't. She'd waited for Jenny to do it. "Shut up."

"You're in love with her?" said Ashildr, looking as if her heart had been ripped out.

"Yes," said Clara. "That's why she's here. She's my girlfriend and she was baking me a cake."

"Jesus. Well, I hope you're happy."

"I was happy enough until you broke in here and stabbed her," said Clara. Ashildr stared at her, breathing deeply, and then stood.

"I should leave," she said. "I'm sorry. What happened on Deftan… Whoever was responsible, that's the least they deserve."

"No," said Jenny. "Cargill. Talk."

"Find him and talk to him yourself," said Ashildr. Despite Jenny pleading, and even asking Clara to go and physically stop her, Ashildr disappeared, slamming the cottage door behind her.

"I can't leave you, Jen," said Clara.

"Let her go; she'll turn up again," said the Doctor. "We'll get to the bottom of it, don't worry, Blue."

"Why did she have all those bath bombs?" asked Clara.

"To hide her scent, I suppose," said the Doctor. "Looks like it worked. Those things certainly are powerful. Get your flask, we'll take Jenny onto the TARDIS to see Martha."

Quickly as she could, Clara threw some of her things into a bag just in case she was waylaid on their TARDIS for a while again. Jenny was so out of it that she struggled to walk, needing them to support her and hold the towels to her wrist, now red with blood, and pull her into the TARDIS.

As luck would have it, Martha was in the console room, Ten and Rose trying to persuade her to go out with them somewhere. She was looking for an excuse not to, and they gave her one.

"Bloody hell! What's happened now?" she said, pushing past the Tenth Doctor.

"Don't crowd her, she'll be okay," said Thirteen, shooting Ten a glare.

"A vampire slayer broke into my cottage and stabbed her with a katana," said Clara.

"You'd better come this way, then," said Martha.

They took Jenny through Nerve Centre and into the medibay, trying to ignore the difficult questions they were getting. Clara was also trying to ignore how they all smelt, so many of them, fresh meat in her nose and mouth.

"Alright, let me have a look at this," said Martha when Jenny was in one of the medibay's two beds, pulling the bloodied tea towels away from the stump. Already, it was starting to grow back and wasn't bleeding as much. "Okay, er, I've never treated anybody whose hand is in the middle of growing back before. Any advice?"

"When my hand grew back, it happened very quickly," said the Doctor. The doors behind them slid open and Rory came in.

"What's going on? I heard the commotion," he said. "Do you need any help?"

"Jenny's regenerating," said Martha, thinking. "Can you prep a surgical mitten and coat the inside with iodine? If the bleeding's stopping, I think that's the best way to go."

"Absolutely," said Rory, rolling up his sleeves and going to wash his hands in the basin on the far side of the room. The Doctor put the bowl with Jenny's missing appendages down on the end table next to the bed.

"A word, please," Clara said quietly to the Doctor. They stepped away while Martha and Rory were occupied. Clara crossed her arms. "You knew this was going to happen."

"Of course I did. Do you think I wouldn't remember my own daughter regenerating again?" said the Doctor.

"If you'd brought the TARDIS down just a little earlier-"

"I could've changed a fixed point in time," said the Doctor. "You people always assume it's so easy for me to stand back and let things happen – it's not. It has to be this way, and it hurts me as much as it hurts you to see her like that."

"You're a piece of work, honestly," Clara scoffed.

"I have two hearts, Clara. I have one for you – Other You – and one for Jenny. She means the world to me. I need you to believe me." Clara clenched her jaw; she didn't know what to think.

"You keep putting her through these awful things," said Clara.

"They all have to happen. The first time, I showed up late. That's all I'm changing."

"Tell me something," said Clara, deathly serious. "You told the others that you brought me back from the dead because you owed me a favour. But what could I possibly have done that warrants that?"

"Oh, Clara," the Doctor smiled a little. "It's not a real favour, that's just what I told them. It's her," she nodded at Jenny. "You're the only one who makes her laugh."

"I…" Clara was stunned. "You brought me back from the dead and condemned me to be a vampire because I make Jenny laugh?"

"My daughter's happiness means far more to me than any poxy laws of time and space and life and death," said the Doctor. "But, no, I didn't; it's like I've told you, this all happens with or without me. I just want to be here for her when it does. I should warn you, though."

"Warn me? Christ. What's going to happen next?"

"Nothing like this. But she's going to need you. That's all I'll say."

Clara pressed her hands to her eyes, frustrated.

"I can't believe you're practically my mother-in-law. You. Now, I need to talk to Oswin about seeing whether she'll make a better security system for my bloody house, even though I hate speaking to her."

"I'll do that," the Doctor offered. "You stay with Jenny; she'll want you here more than me. I think I'm needed for something else, anyway, if I've got my dates right." She checked her watch. "Yeah. That's today. Hm. Well," she put a hand on Clara's shoulder, "I won't go too far if you need anything; I can make her a grilled cheese when she's up to it."

"You made her one the last time she regenerated," said Clara, remembering. That felt like such a long time ago now.

"It's her favourite," said the Doctor. "I'll talk to the Oswald-Mitchells for you; don't worry. Just take care of her. Okay?"

"Okay," said Clara. It was easy to see why her Other Self was so enamoured with this woman. She did have a way of calming a situation, even when she appeared to be culpable. She smiled warmly at Clara and left.

"I think I've done all I can," said Martha as Clara returned to Jenny's beside, pulling up a chair and taking Jenny's good hand tightly. Jenny squeezed. "I don't know how long it'll take for her hand and eyes to grow back, though. A few hours?"

"Probably," said Clara, though she knew nothing about it. She'd paid very little notice to what was going on with Jenny when she'd regenerated the last time.

"What about you?" asked Martha. "Are you alright?"

"Because of this, or because of the vampirism?"

"The latter."

"I haven't killed anybody yet," said Clara.

Martha sighed. "I'll leave you two alone, then. But I'll stay in the next room; just come through if you need anything. And I'll be checking in."

"Erm…" Clara began. "You couldn't make us some tea, could you?"

"Sure," Martha smiled.

"Thank you," said Clara to both of them. Soon enough, she and Jenny were alone again. All this barely an hour after she'd left work for the day.

"I'm sorry," said Jenny.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Jen," said Clara.

"I'm putting you through this. You've already been through so much."

"No. It isn't your fault. I love you and I'm not going to leave you." She held onto Jenny tightly. "To think, I made such a fuss about you letting yourself in. You can let yourself in whenever you like."

"How do you know her? That girl?" asked Jenny.

"We were in Norway a few months ago," said Clara. "There was this situation with the Mire – a warrior race – invading a Viking village, and the Doctor wanted to help them defend themselves…" Clara didn't often enjoy sharing stories about her time on the TARDIS with Jenny, but that day, she did. She would tell Jenny anything she wanted to hear, just grateful for the fact that she could still hear it.

---

Rewritten April 2024

904: Nerd Flirts X

Oswin

"I think I need a new coat. Do you think I need a new coat? I'm going to get a new coat."

"You do whatever you like, Mitchell," said Oswin absently, eyes on her computer screen. They were hiding away in her laboratory again.

"But what do you think?"

"I've never paid attention to your clothes. Why not ask Clara? She cares about all that, and she'll give you an honest opinion."

"I don't really talk to Clara," he said.

"Oh, come on. She's practically your sister-in-law. Just go and bother her – or make her go shopping with you."

"But I want you to go shopping with me."

"I'm not interested, though. Clara lives for boring shit like that, you might as well humour her," said Oswin. "Go have a bonding experience. But I think you're very pretty whether you have a new coat or not." He grumbled something, but she didn't hear exactly what he said. "See, you've finally convinced her to go to boarding school, and now that she's gone, you're bored to death." He'd dropped Ellie off earlier that morning and had spent the last few hours since his return badgering Oswin.

"Maybe I am," he admitted. "I need a new game to play, but nobody plays with me. I don't want to just sit around on my own."

"You can put a computer in here, too."

"But you still wouldn't play – you're too busy inventing things."

"I'm cyber-stalking somebody at the moment, actually," she said.

"You're still looking into that for Jack?" He dragged his stool closer to look at the computer properly.

"I found internal CIA documents investigating the grave robbery of one Esther Drummond in November 2015, but there isn't exactly extensive security camera coverage of a cemetery – even Arlington," said Oswin. "But if she talked to Christina de Souza about it somewhere in England a few months later, that means she made it across the ocean. I'm drawing a blank, though; no CCTV matches are coming up when I run a search through Torchwood's systems."

"Maybe she's a vampire," said Adam. "If she's come back to life and doesn't show up on camera, she could be."

"I don't understand how she hasn't found Gwen, though," said Oswin. "She was Torchwood's computer specialist. If she got access to any computer, she'd be able to find out where Gwen and Rhys had moved to. It's like she's disappeared – unless everybody's wrong and it's a different person we're looking for."

"Is this what you've been doing? Going through databases?" he asked.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Yeah, actually. A more human approach."

"Like what?"

"Well, if I'd been dead for years, the first thing I'd do when I got access to a computer would be to check my emails," said Adam, sliding Oswin's laptop towards him. She didn't resist, watching him go through Esther's old personnel record from the CIA. "See, this is what you need – the recovery email address for this work account. If you get into someone's email, you can access everything."

"Mm. For a minute, I was forgetting that we all used to call you 'Creepy Adam'."

"It's common sense," he said, going to Esther's email client and entering a few lines of code to force it to grant him entry as if he'd typed the right password in. "What date does this computer think it is?"

"2016 now," said Oswin.

"Well, beginning in November 2015, these emails have been marked as 'read'," said Adam. "But then we have dozens of them from the last few months that are just sitting there."

"So, she came back to life, logged into her email account, and read everything she'd received while she was dead?" said Oswin.

"It looks that way," said Adam. "But then she stopped."

"Maybe she died again," said Oswin. "Maybe this is all pointless."

"No, no; everything sends a message back to the email server," said Adam, opening a new window.

"Are you breaking into Google?"

"Yes. It's very easy." He did that and then found deep logs that had location data for every single action undertaken by Esther Drummond's email account, including where she'd been when she'd been marking all the older emails as read at the beginning of the year. "She was at an internet café in Bristol the last time she used this account, according to the IP address. Now, we can find the CCTV from there. Why didn't you think to do this?"

"I'm good with machines, not people," said Oswin.

Adam drew another blank with the CCTV, though. Again, the footage existed, and he could break into the café's computers to find it just fine, but all the parts they needed going by the email timestamps were distorted with static.

"Hm… Okay."

He changed tact, again going for a human approach. He googled the information: the name of the internet café and the street it was on, with the date set to only the day they knew she'd been there. Sure enough, he eventually dug up a forum post with a picture. Blurry, but enough of a match for human eyes, if not for Torchwood's face scanning database. The post was about a woman being bundled into a black Range Rover while she shouted for help, and then driven away, all fuelling some conspiracy theory about the British state. But the car's plates were visible, and when Adam ran those through the DVLA's internal system, he found that they were registered not to a person, but to an entity: 'LONGBOW'.

"What does that mean?" asked Oswin.

"You're lucky I spent so much time as a teenager hacking into governments," he said. "LONGBOW was UNIT before UNIT. They still use the name internally, as a misnomer to hide covert ops. But it's registered to UNIT, make no mistake. Maybe they gummed up all the cameras, too, but missed this one post. They could've been using the same face-scanning software that couldn't find it that we were, since it was Torchwood's. Did you look through UNIT's records?"

"Only on a surface level," said Oswin. "But if they've kidnapped her, it'll be buried deeper. Thank you, though." She took her computer back and opened her usual backdoor into UNIT's entire network, using some spoof credentials to go a few layers further than she had done in her cursory search.

"Happy to help," said Adam.

"But if she's not being held under her own name-"

"Look for the dates again," he said. "See if they have any record of the mission they were running that day."

"God. You really are a genius."

"Not compared to you," he said. "Cleverness doesn't factor into it. Knowing that the British government likes to keep meticulous records of all the crimes it commits does. Although, MI5 destroyed all those records on purpose during decolonisation to get rid of the evidence. They did write, sign, and date certificates saying they'd destroyed things, though."

"It's really appalling that people speak to me and assume I'm British," said Oswin, shaking her head. "Here we are. 'Blue Finch Retrieval', this looks right. Bristol, young woman, captured and brought to Tower Ops."

"Tower of London," said Adam. When Oswin had been searching for 'Esther Drummond', she'd found nothing. But the codename 'Blue Finch' finally brought up everything she needed. Esther was being held and studied by UNIT in the Tower. "Are they experimenting on her?" Adam read over her shoulder.

"Blood tests and biopsies noted," said Oswin. "Something about 'electrostatic generation'. Hm." She was still reading, but the doors opened and Thirteen came in. Oswin noticed that she had blood on her hands and sleeves. "What's going on?"

"I'm here to check in on something, that's all," said the Doctor. "But Jenny's regenerating again."

"What? Shit, you'll need me to do her hand and her eyes so that they can grow back, I'll-"

"You can sit down, she's okay," said the Doctor. "I already did that. Martha's looking her over and Clara's with her – Other Clara. But she did actually send me here on an errand, to request that one or both of you work on a state-of-the-art security system for that cottage. Somebody broke in and stabbed Jenny with a sword."

"Fucking hell," said Oswin. "This barely a week after that vampire stuff?"

"I know," the Doctor sighed.

"I suppose you couldn't have stopped this from happening, either."

"No. I had to let her get hurt." Oswin glared at her, but the Doctor didn't look away. "I know you're angry with me, you always are when it comes to Jenny. But I'm doing everything I can. Did you find her, though? Esther?"

"Yes, no thanks to you," said Oswin. Of course, her real first attempt at finding Esther had been to ask Thirteen, who had refused to answer on all points despite having mentioned Esther in passing half a dozen times.

"I knew you'd do it eventually," said the Doctor, coming over to see the computer screen. "Tower Ops, huh?"

"Like you didn't know."

"Well. Jack'll want to know ASAP. And I suppose he'd better take somebody persuasive with him if he wants to get her out of there the legitimate way, as opposed to breaking in. I think Kate Stewart can be negotiated with if somebody has the necessary authority – not that anybody tried to do that last time. Your decision, though."

"What are you saying? We staged a prison escape, and now you're changing it?"

"I think it's an avenue that should be explored before we turn the poor girl into a fugitive," said the Doctor.

"And who's this 'persuasive' person? You?" said Oswin.

"No, no. I can't leave Jenny. But I think husbandy knows enough. What's say I tweak my own memories, for once, and send him to iron things out?" said Thirteen. "Don't say any of it was my idea, though."

"Of course not," Oswin muttered.

"You should go find Jack," Adam told her. "I can handle home security easily enough. And, technically, I do own that cottage, so it's my responsibility."

"My brother, the parasite," said the Doctor dryly. But Adam was taken aback by her referring to him as her 'brother' at all – even if it did come right after an insult. "Anyway, I've delivered my message. I'm going to go clean up this blood and find something to eat. Let me know when Esther gets here; I do miss the sense of normalcy she brings with her."

"Fine," said Oswin. "I'll do your dirty work and keep you posted. Arsehole."

"That's all I can ask."

---

Rewritten April 2024

905: Sent to the Tower

Eleven & Clara

"Cor, these things aren't half quaint," said the Eleventh Doctor, picking up one of an array of plush ravens in the gift shop of the Tower of London's welcome centre. "Everything's got to be a toy here, hasn't it? Do you think they sell bearskins? Can I get one?"

"Don't you have to be a member of the Queen's Guard?" said Clara, perusing the history books and pamphlets they had there. It was a fascinating building; she'd brought the Maitlands a few months ago to learn all about it. "Or are you a member of the Queen's Guard?"

"Dunno. I've got a knighthood, does that count?"

"And a banishment," said Jack, unimpressed by the gift shop. "Torchwood Three set up in a visitor's centre, too."

"Yes, but a secret base in the Tower of London is a bit more romantic than one underneath Cardiff Bay," said the Doctor, dropping the raven back down onto the shelf where he'd found it. "You humans are always turning the biggest monuments to the horrors you inflict on each other into tourist attractions."

"So that people can learn about the past," said Clara. "So that we don't lock people up in there anymore."

"Yes. And how does that seem to be going? Aren't we here on a prisoner retrieval?" the Doctor looked at Jack, narrowing his eyes. "I think you should give me a bit more information before I get involved in this any further."

"Esther Drummond," said Jack. "One of mine. I lost her. Now, she's walking around again trying to find me. I had Oswin look into it, and it appears she came all the way to England from the States, and now she's been kidnapped by your pet soldiers."

"Might be that she's dangerous," said the Doctor.

"And I at least owe it to her to check," said Jack.

The Doctor nodded. "Right you are. Well, if you're done looking at knickknacks, we'd better go in. It's just this way." He led Jack and Clara – who'd tagged along as well – out of the welcome centre and to the main entrance of the Tower, along with all the tourists taking pictures of the guards.

At the gates, the Doctor flashed his psychic paper at the first yeoman he found, whose eyes widened.

"Er, right this way, sir," the yeoman nodded, indicating for them to follow.

"What's that trick?" asked Jack. "What did it say?"

"The usual. Name, address, favourite colour; Doctor, TARDIS, blue. It's this door, isn't it? Don't worry, I've been here before. Just popping in to say hello to Dr Lethbridge-Stewart – always nice to keep up with people," he smiled at the yeoman, leaving him behind at a large, wooden door to let Clara and Jack into the building's underbelly. He looked surprised but didn't follow.

"Shouldn't you have had a military escort to get down here?" said Clara.

As soon as she did, they were cornered in the cold, stone tunnels by two armed guards, clad in black uniforms with red berets. Automatically, the trio held up their hands in surrender, with the Doctor slowly and deliberately pulling out his psychic paper for a second time. The soldier on the left squinted at it.

"The Doctor," said the Doctor. "Here for Kate. You must be the escort my wife was talking about."

"You haven't been summoned, sir," said the soldier. "We haven't been informed."

"Like I said to the bloke outside – I'm only popping in, saying hello."

"People don't 'pop in' to the Black Archive," said the soldier.

"I do," said the Doctor, switching from jovial to serious in an instant. "Sorry, have you not been properly trained? I'm the Doctor. The Doctor. And if I say I want to poke around in UNIT's archives and have a friendly word with your commander, that's what I'm going to do." He prodded the soldier's chest. "Do you understand me?"

"…Yes, sir. Right this way."

"Good. Come along, you two; you're not Ponds, but we'll have to manage." Jack and Clara followed in his wake as they descended into the guts of the Tower of London, its dungeons all repurposed for UNIT's use.

When they got into the control room, full of screens, computers, and scientists hard at work, Kate Stewart was there to meet them.

"Doctor," she said, hands in her pockets. "And the Captain. How unexpected."

"And me," said Clara, grinning at Kate. "I'm here, too."

"Is it really unexpected?" said Jack. "A little birdie told me that you've got a member of my staff – my team – somewhere in your dungeon."

"Torchwood's been disbanded," said Kate.

"Not completely. We've always got the assent of the Crown to fall back on."

"And I've got the assent of the United Nations."

"She's on my staff."

"She isn't a British citizen," said Kate.

"Does that give you the right to detain her?" said the Doctor. Kate and Jack were evenly matched, but the Doctor tipped the scales. "I think you've got some explaining to do."

"Doctor," she said. "We've been taking care of her."

"By kidnapping her off the streets?" said Jack. The Doctor held up a hand and Jack stopped.

"I don't like this, Kate. I don't like any of it. Why does she need you to take care of her?"

"She isn't human anymore," said Kate. "She's an energy source like nothing we've ever seen. She requires a huge amount of power to function, and passively generates energy in a way that should be against the laws of physics – against Newton."

"Who hasn't gone against Newton in their time? The man was obsessed with apples. But this is fascinating," he crossed his arms. "What else do you know?"

"She arrived here on a container ship a few months ago – we don't think she's able to take planes without disrupting them too much – and started searching for your airman," Kate nodded at Jack. "We intercepted her, and she's been here ever since. But he's not the easiest person to get in touch with."

"We'll have to exchange numbers," said Jack.

"Stop it," said the Doctor.

"You can exchange numbers with me," Clara smiled at Kate again. "I don't mind."

"You're nearly as bad as him," said the Doctor. "Moving on. Tell me about this power."

"We thought she was a manifest at first," said Kate. "But we took a blood sample, and the gene isn't present. She's almost completely human, other than the fact that she's dead. When blood and tissue samples are kept isolated from power, even when we try to preserve them, they die immediately."

"You've been experimenting on her?" said Jack in horror.

"Minor tissue samples – harmless biopsies," said Kate. "This is a woman who eats thunderbolts, and who uses those thunderbolts to produce enough power from herself to keep all the lights running in the entirety of UNIT HQ."

"Excellent. I'd like a word with her. Show me where she is," said the Doctor.

"Alright, but I can't let her leave the building. With power like that, she's too much of a risk."

"I think that's my decision," said the Doctor.

"You can't undermine my authority, Doctor," said Kate. "I appreciate that you offer help to UNIT from time to time-"

"Yes, when UNIT isn't wrongfully detaining people. If I don't get to see this 'lightning girl' of yours in the next thirty seconds, you're going to have a lot more to worry about than power surges," said the Doctor. Finally, she acquiesced.

"This way," Kate walked off. Clara was hot on her heels.

"I really do mean it, you know, if you want to give me your number," she said.

"Leave the woman alone, Coo," said the Doctor.

"I assure you, Doctor; it isn't anything barbaric. We're looking after her. When the dead rise from their graves, we do take notice – but, of course, you weren't here during the Miracle," said Kate.

"No, I missed it," said Eleven.

"You think I'm difficult to get in touch with, try asking him a question," said Jack.

Kate didn't take them far. Down another hallway, through a security gate guarded by more soldiers, through another door that dated back to when the building was a real dungeon, and to a cell. Bigger than a normal prison cell, but a huge, white structure with a glass wall along one side. Completely contained and purpose-built, with a woman inside, and only a few stacks of books, a television, and a bed for comfort.

"Esther!" Jack ran towards the glass.

"Jack!" her eyes widened. She'd been pacing up and down as they'd come in.

A soldier on either side raised their guns at him, and he stopped. "Oh, come on! Don't you recognise me? Your weapons won't do a thing."

"At ease," said Kate. "Captain Harkness is only visiting, under the supervision of the Doctor."

"I've been looking for you! Trying to find you – but I couldn't! And then these people, they brought me here – UNIT. Like UNIT is supposed to have any real power in this century," said Esther, putting her hands on the glass and talking through speakers wired up to her cell.

"This is disturbing, Kate," said the Doctor quietly, observing with a hand on his chin.

"It's a serious situation," said Kate. "We've been handling it."

"I think she was handling it herself, and you got in the way," said the Doctor, heading over to a nearby computer at a desk, wires leading from the machine to Esther's cell. Clara stayed at his shoulder to see what he was doing.

"What if she is dangerous?" said Clara.

"All humans are dangerous," said the Doctor. "With your whims and passions and needs. This is truly something else, though – these readings…"

"I told you," said Kate. The Doctor sifted through data and graphs, all showing that she was generating massive amounts of electricity, multiplying the normal energy a human needed a thousandfold and burgeoning with the excess.

"She really is like lightning," he said, leaving the computer. "How do you get into this thing? Where's the door?" He walked around the cell.

"They sealed me in!" said Esther. "It doesn't open. There's only a hatch for food. I'm lucky the toilet's plumbed in."

"Yes. Lucky," said the Doctor, glaring at Kate. "This entire situation screams of luck."

"She's – she's come back to life, I'd say that's quite lucky," said Kate.

"And that justifies this, does it?" said the Doctor, taking out his screwdriver and scanning the cell. "What's that door on the left?" He pointed at it at the far end of the cell.

"Just the bathroom," said Esther.

"We do give her privacy," said Kate. "We're not monsters."

"Not a proper door, then?"

"No. There's no way to open it without dismantling the entire thing, and I'm not willing to do that," said Kate. "She can't touch anybody. She nearly killed one of my men."

"That was an accident! I warned you all when you grabbed me!" said Esther. To the Doctor, "And who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor," he said absently, still studying the cell. "And I'm going to get you out of there, don't you worry, Esther."

"The Doctor? Jack's Doctor?"

"I'd hardly say I'm his. But I'm the Doctor, yes. And you're incredible, aren't you?" He elbowed Jack out of the way to talk to her himself. "What can you tell me? How did this happen?"

"One minute, I'm dying of a gut shot in Buenos Aires, and the next I'm breaking out of my own coffin in Virginia and everything I touch explodes. I couldn't even get into a car," she explained. "Couldn't risk a plane. I had a friend who arranged for me to cross the Atlantic on a freighter and went to Cardiff looking for Jack. Only made it as far as Bristol. And they're saying that people have superpowers now? And that they think I'm one of them?"

"Rewind for me," said the Doctor, pacing in front of her and wringing his hands. "Breaking out of your own coffin. How did that happen? Did you dig yourself out?"

"No, somebody dug up my grave, but they were already gone by the time I climbed out. Not easy considering, y'know, I'd been dead for four years."

"Somebody dug you up. You. Why?" said the Doctor.

"How should I know? They didn't stay around to chat," said Esther. "There was this machine, too."

"Machine? Describe it to me."

"I can't. It was hard to see, my eyes weren't really…"

"Dead for four years, yes," the Doctor nodded.

"But I know it wasn't human. And it was full of energy – when I touched it, I drained it. I drained everything I came into contact with, I still do – and then fill it all back up so much it explodes."

"And if your tissue is separated from a power supply, you'll go back to being dead," said the Doctor, remembering what Kate had told him about the 'experiments'. "Hm. Well. She isn't a manifest. This is alien."

"Which aliens? What aliens would want to bring a Torchwood agent back to life?" said Kate.

"I don't know," said the Doctor, thinking. "But I don't think keeping her here is helping to solve that mystery. She'll be safer on the TARDIS, we're better equipped."

"You think your ship can handle her? If she downs planes accidentally?"

"Okay, I haven't downed any planes, it's just precautionary," said Esther. The Doctor shushed her, then turned back to Kate.

"What did you say about my TARDIS?" he asked. "I think she's more than capable of handling an overgrown battery. No offence, Esther; I'm sure you're perfectly charming – for a battery."

"Some offence taken," said Esther.

"I can't release her to you, Doctor," said Kate.

"Sorry," said the Doctor, laughing, but only once, then it faded. He approached Kate slowly, no smile on his face. "You've made the mistake of thinking that I'm asking. I'm not. I'm ordering you to release this woman and stop pursuing her, completely. Let her go, or I'll take her."

"I can't do that," Kate repeated, gritting her teeth. "I'm hanging on by a thread dealing with the manifests as it is, and you think I'm going to release what could be our greatest asset?"

"Asset?"

"She has unimaginable power, Doctor. If UNIT could find a way to harness that-"

"I see. Reverse-engineering. Super-soldiers. How distressingly predictable. Every time I make the mistake of thinking better of UNIT, you do something like this."

"I'm following the science," said Kate.

"You're following a woman! One woman! And I'd bet good money that whatever's happened to her isn't replicable, anyway. What are you going to do? Keep her here forever? In the Tower of London?"

"I know it's difficult, Doctor, but this is the world you leave behind," said Kate. "This is how we deal with it." He squared up to her, but she didn't back down. It was a stand-off. Clara and Jack watched, waiting to see what he would do. And then he broke composure and backed away, holding up his hands.

"Fine. Have it your way, I surrender. Just one question."

"What?"

"Where's the bathroom? The bathroom for people who aren't imprisoned, that is."

"Excuse me?"

"I've got needs. You should see how many cups of tea this one makes me," he indicated Clara. "Bathroom. I'll be back in a mo', and then we'll be out of your hair. I know when I'm beaten."

"You're up to something," said Kate.

"Am I?" he said, heading for the door.

"Yes. The three of you should leave."

"I'll collect them on my way back. Is it left or right out here? Actually, don't tell me; I'll enjoy getting the lay of the land!" he called, and then the doors closed, and he was gone. Jack and Clara remained.

"I don't get it – he's leaving? You're not here to rescue me?" said Esther.

"Give him a chance," said Jack.

"You're making a mistake," Kate said to Clara. "Call him off."

"I can't do that," said Clara.

"We all know that's not true."

"I'm getting you out of there, I promise," Jack kept talking to Esther. "I trust the Doctor and he'll… he'll…"

They all heard it. Thrumming, in the air. Kate mumbled into a walkie-talkie.

Inside the cell, the blue box began to materialise, vworping in and out of existence and churning the air around it. Esther backed away as the TARDIS landed, thudding when it came to a standstill. Eleven opened the door with a creak.

"As I said, back in a mo'," he grinned at her, opening the doors. "Jack, Clara – I think it's time for us to leave."

"Just a second," said Clara, then to Kate. "If exchanging phone numbers is still on the table, then-"

"Let's go, Clara!" said Jack as a dozen soldiers burst into the room, summoned by Kate. Clara fled, grabbing Jack by the elbow and phasing him through the glass wall of Esther's cell. "C'mon, Esther! Onto the TARDIS."

"Sure – right – TARDIS," Esther finally followed, and Jack closed the door behind them as the Doctor dashed around the console. The TARDIS set off, jerking as it did. "This is… whoa. What did you say it was called?"

"This is my ship, the TARDIS," said the Doctor. "Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Best ship in the universe. Easily capable of breaking into the Tower of London, no matter how many countermeasures the Lethbridge-Stewarts try to put in my way. Don't hold anything against Kate, though; she's doing her best, given the circumstances."

The TARDIS wobbled again, spinning as they flew through space. Esther grabbed a railing for support.

"Does your ship not have suspension!?" she said.

"No, wouldn't dream of it!" He pulled a lever and the TARDIS steadied, the central column quieting down. "There we are, safe and sound. Welcome aboard, Esther Drummond. I think there are some people you need to meet."

---

Rewritten April 2024

906: Shock Jockey

Esther

She would not have guessed that this was how her day would go. Sprung from the Tower of London – where she'd spent the last six months being held illegally by a bunch of Brits telling her it was in her best interests to stay in a Poison Ivy-style containment cell – and brought onto the Doctor's legendary time-ship. Jack had told her very little about the Doctor, but he wasn't what she'd expected, with his tweed coat and floppy hair. But he'd brought her into his home, even if his home did contain yet another laboratory she was immediately pulled into.

"Ah! Get out, the lot of you," a woman shouted at them when she, Jack, the Doctor, and the other woman, Clara, entered. "Too many people in here! I'm being crowded."

"How are you being crowded, sweetheart? This room's massive," said Clara. That was when Esther realised that they were identical. "I'm sorry about her; this is my sister, Oswin."

And then she was being prodded and poked once again, now under the observation of an entirely different group of people. At least Clara offered to make her a coffee, which was more than UNIT had done.

"Oh, wow," said Esther when Clara handed her a fresh mocha in a tall glass a while later. "That's not what I was expecting."

"I'm a wizard with drinks," said Clara. They continued taking readings and scanning her with much more advanced equipment than UNIT had, even if she did have to sacrifice yet another blood sample.

"Well, I'm at a loss," said Oswin eventually. "Something's changed you on a cellular level, completely rewritten your DNA, and… I don't want to say broken it, but this can't be the intended effect."

"You never know," said Adam Mitchell, whom Esther had recognised right away, familiar with him and his company. "The Ray Sphere was supposed to give people superpowers."

"You're kidding!" said Esther. "I was telling them the entire time that it was like Infamous, with the machine, and everything." She saw the way Jack was looking at her. "It's a video game."

"Video games, huh? You never mentioned that before."

"We were preoccupied, the world was ending," said Esther. "And I don't advertise it, how does it look? A thirtysomething CIA analyst who's into video games? They wouldn't take me seriously."

"True enough," said Oswin. "Nobody takes Mitchell seriously."

"You take me seriously," said Adam.

"On the contrary, I take you the least seriously of all," said Oswin.

"It's more like Frankenstein, though, surely?" said Clara. "Raising somebody from the dead using lightning."

"They added all that for the 1931 movie," said Esther. "It's not in the text – either of the texts. Shelley never specifies how the Creature is made."

"But she does frequently invoke the divine power of nature," said Clara. "You could make an argument that it's all implicative, there's enough evidence."

"I guess," said Esther.

"Ignore Clara," said Oswin. "She's got this problem."

"What problem?"

"She's a prick."

"Don't be horrible when she's only just got here," said Clara.

"I'm-"

"Forget all that," Adam cut her off, bringing his chair nearer to Esther. "What can you do with the powers? Can you shoot lightning bolts from your hands?"

"Can you shoot ice from your hands?" Oswin countered behind him.

"I'm working on it! But, you know, in Infamous 2, he does get ice powers as well when you activate the second Ray Sphere."

"Well, only if you take the good karma route," said Esther.

"Who wouldn't take the good karma route?" said Adam.

"The napalm powers are more interesting!" she defended herself. "I think that was the last game I beat before the Miracle, honestly. Both ways."

"And do you?" asked Oswin.

"Do I what?"

"Go both ways. You're flirting with my boyfriend quite a lot, but I'm not opposed to a throuple," she said, and everybody else in the room groaned, other than Esther, who realised she'd yet again said the wrong thing.

"Oh, no, sorry; I'm not interested in any way," she said. She'd just been rescued from captivity, and now she was coming out? To a group of people she'd just met? She hadn't even gotten into it all with Torchwood – not that it'd been relevant. "I wasn't trying to flirt with anybody's boyfriend."

"Why not? What's wrong with him?" said Oswin.

"Nothing! I'm just – I'm not – oh, jeez, this has taken a turn…"

"I think you've grilled her enough, don't you?" said the Doctor, intervening when he saw her squirming in her seat, four pairs of eyes boring into her. "Now, I need to think, Esther, if we're going to work out what you are and what's happened. But you're welcome to stay on the ship; I'll have another guest room put into circulation."

"Is that it? Those are all your questions?" said Jack.

"I've got a hunch, and there are some books I need to refer to," said the Doctor. "We'll reconvene tomorrow. But she's safe now, Jack. And UNIT will have me to go through if they want to get to her again." Though Jack was dismayed, the Doctor left, with Clara at his heels. Seeing this, Oswin scoffed.

"Off for their third shag of the day, I suppose," she muttered. "'Books I need to refer to' – really."

"You don't know that they're not reading books," said Adam.

"I'm connected to her brain. Even if he does go to the library, how long do you think it'll be until she's got her mouth full in the stacks somewhere?" said Oswin.

"…Sorry, again, about Oswin," Adam said to Esther, seeing her flinch at the blue language.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to her," said Jack. "And then you start to tune her out."

"A bit like how you tuned out your ex-wife by cheating on her repeatedly," said Oswin.

"Wife?" said Esther, staring at him. "You? With a wife?"

"Ex-wife," said Jack. "And she cheated on me first."

"I just wish that the pair of you would stop trying to one-up each other by shagging people who look exactly like me, you freak," said Oswin. "The nerve of you to come in here getting your syphilitic piss on everything and then start making demands of me."

"It's like I said," said Jack, glaring at Oswin. "You get used to her."

"Esther," said Oswin, turning back to her and flashing a very striking thousand-watt smile. "Did I mention that I'm the most intelligent human who's ever lived?"

"Uh…"

"Forget about Mitchell, he's not important. We should go out sometime, you and me." Next to her, Adam only rolled his eyes.

"I'm not really interested."

"You see what you've done?" Oswin said to Jack. "Poisoned her against me."

"Are you okay?" Esther asked seriously. "I don't think you can just talk to people like this."

"How do you feel about gloves?" said Oswin.

"Excuse me?"

"To insulate people against you, so that you don't shock them by accident," said Oswin. "There'll be enough wiring in here to attach you to a circuit and measure the passive charge with an industrial ammeter. I might need until tomorrow to collect materials, though, and work out a more permanent solution to this abundance of energy you're generating. Can't have you accidentally blowing the national grid to pieces, can we? Until then, Adam can bore you to death with his Dark Souls theories."

"You said you liked listening to my theories!" said Adam. "You see, Blighttown is actually representative of the dark side of nature, which is why it's all the way underneath the Darkroot Basin."

"Yes, I do like your theories, because I'm in love with you. But Esther isn't, is she? Honestly. Jack, make yourself useful and find the ammeter, it's somewhere around here."

"Fine," said Jack. Oswin's temperament seemed to change on a dime, and nobody bothered to argue with her. "Anything to help Esther. We can catch up; go and see Gwen and Rhys later."

"Is that a good idea?" said Esther. "Don't get me wrong, I've been wanting to see Gwen as much as I've been wanting to see you, but I think they were right about me not being safe. I've hurt people without meaning to, and they've got a little kid who might not understand personal space."

Jack thought about this. "Okay. We'll give Oswin and the Doctor the time they need to work all this out."

"I could call, though. Is there a phone around here?"

"You're inside a phone box," said Oswin.

"Is that what it's supposed to be?" said Esther. "I thought they were all red."

"It's from the sixties," said Jack. "Police used them to hold criminals temporarily. It was supposed to blend in, but now, he won't fix it. I've offered to repair the chameleon circuits countless times."

"We all have," said Oswin.

"I'll work on getting you a phone, I'm sure we have spares around here at the rate people lose them," said Adam. "Or you can borrow mine, that's fine. You don't want to borrow Oswin's, it's full of porn."

"Well, where else am I supposed to keep my porn?" said Oswin. "You're unbelievable today, you really are." He smiled at her.

"So," Esther began, talking to Adam again. "I'm desperate to know. What was that you were saying about the Darkroot Basin? I was actually stuck on Quelaag before the Miracle began." Jack shook his head but went hunting around the lab as Oswin had asked.

"What starting gift do you have?"

"The Master Key, obviously."

"You need the Old Witch's Ring."

"Just for that one boss?"

"Well, obviously, you can also trade with Snuggly the Crow if you don't want to sacrifice the key, although the key is a bit of a waste if you're not speed-running…" And then he launched into a ramble about rare maggots, firebombs, and boss resistances. Esther hung onto every word; it had been such a long time since she'd had someone to talk video games with. Maybe she would get along with the people on the ship – she'd have to see what Gwen and Rhys thought of them later. But could she have found a new home?

---

Rewritten April 2024

907: Last of the American Girls

Esther

The TARDIS was magical. They had a circle of doors and there was a brand-new one there for her; it looked like a clean, well-lit hotel room. There were even clothes in there, too, which the Doctor – when he'd come back from his library jaunt – said had been pulled from the wardrobe. She also had an ensuite bathroom, which they all told her was very coveted.

What Esther didn't have, though, was anything to eat. Everybody had been so distracted testing her and drawing up schematics for bizarre gadgets and trinkets that they'd forgotten to offer her food, and she'd forgotten to ask. She forgot until she was showered and clean, much later on, and heard her stomach rumble. Of course, they'd broken her out just before UNIT delivered her usual Wednesday lunch of tomato soup.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Maybe it was exciting that she was new; she didn't think she'd met everybody yet, and it seemed like quite a lot lived there. Unsurprisingly, it was a new face on the other side, another woman grinning toothily at her.

"But aren't you a sight for sore eyes, huh?" she said. Another American.

"Uh, hello? I'm-"

"Esther. And I bet you're starving – the food in the Black Archive has never been all that good. C'mon, I know a little diner in Maine that I think might be just your thing." She jerked her head to indicate that Esther should follow.

"Sorry, did you say Maine?"

"Sure did, Sparky, sure did," she went walking off, leaving Esther with no choice but to go after her. "But I have people to introduce you to. I'm the Doctor, by the way – the next Doctor."

"You're – what?"

"I'll explain it over dinner. How does a burger and fries sound?"

"That sounds great, but I don't know if I should really be leaving the ship – they're working on this whole thing with gloves and something about dissipating the excess charge-"

"You'll be okay, trust me – I'm from the future. I'm here to deliver you a message, too."

"The future? Should you be doing that?"

"You see," she began as they waited for the doors into the living room to glide open. "I've made a deal with some Libyans for a large amount of plutonium, and – ah, here she is! My best girl and her best girl."

She'd cut herself off to wave an arm at two women, the only people in there, sitting at one of the tables, one of whom was clearly Clara – or Oswin. But not quite. There was something about her, and when she looked at Esther, her irises were an unnatural black, and goosebumps erupted across Esther's skin.

"Come and meet the family," 'the Doctor' waved her into the room. "Jenny, Clara, this is Esther."

"Hello…" said Esther, uneasy.

The Doctor introduced them, pointing them each out, "Jenny's my daughter. Don't let her youth fool you; she's two hundred years old. She gets her good looks from me, though, obviously. And this is Other Clara – Clara Ravenwood – her girlfriend. She's also our resident vampire, which makes her even more undead than you, huh?" Esther stared at them.

"You're clearly overwhelming the poor girl," said Clara, shaking her head. Jenny looked like she was half asleep, and she leant on Clara's shoulder wearing a pair of glasses.

"No!" said the Doctor. "She watches movies, she gets it. You two don't know this yet, but Esther's very reliable."

"I am?" said Esther.

"Sure, you are! That's why we're going for burgers."

"Burgers?" Jenny perked up.

"Absolutely. Do you want to come, Blue? You must be hungry." Jenny didn't say anything, but she did look at Clara as if to ask her. "Feel free to take your chances with the fridge, though. If you look really hard in there, maybe you can find a bag of wontons that's fewer than three days old."

"She's right about the fridge," said Jenny quietly.

"It's up to you, Jen," said Clara. "We can go out if you want to go out." It seemed that she did want to go out because they quickly agreed.

"I don't get it, what's wrong with the fridge?" asked Esther.

"It's basically a biohazard, I wouldn't go near it," said Clara.

"Your fridge was just as bad," said Jenny.

"No, my fridge was empty. That fridge should be thrown into the nearest black hole; I can smell it. I don't live here, by the way," she added to Esther as she stood up, helping Jenny. "I'm just staying, briefly."

"You're always welcome, Smokey," said the Doctor.

"Why do I not believe that?" said Clara. "You should try and rein them in a bit more. They're all mental."

"They're all perfectly fine when they're separate," said the Doctor.

"Which they aren't right now," said Clara.

"Well, no, but… Come on, it'll be just the five of us."

"Four," said Esther. "There are only four of us." The Doctor looked at her, confused, and then appeared to remember something.

"Sorry. I'm not used to seeing you without your other half. Let's go."

"Um, my what?" said Esther, following her again, all the way back through to the console room, now with Jenny and Clara. "I know you said you're from the future, but I'm not sure where you're getting your information – I'm not going to have an 'other half', not now and not ever."

"Right, right. Suppose I misspoke. Ignore me, it's better that way," said the Doctor, absent again, flipping switches. Jenny held onto Clara for support.

"Who have you met, then?" Clara asked her.

"The, um…" Esther tried to think, head still reeling from the Doctor's 'other half' reference. "Another Doctor? Another you? Oswin? Adam Mitchell – and isn't he some kind of tech mogul?" said Esther. "Rose and Martha, I think were the others' names… Are there many more?"

"Seven or eight," said the Doctor with a shrug.

"And you all share that one kitchen?"

"They don't cook anything," said Jenny. "They just eat takeaways and then leave them in the fridge to rot."

"That doesn't sound great…" said Esther.

"You see!" said Clara. "This is what I've been saying. A week ago, I was here asking for a banana, and Jenny had to smuggle them in."

"I didn't smuggle them, they were just surprised to see one," said Jenny. With a thunk, the TARDIS landed. The Doctor dashed off to pull open the doors.

Esther had been to Maine many times as a child to visit her grandparents in Wells, and the Doctor had seen into her soul and knew exactly what she was craving: the real, world-famous lobster rolls of the Maine Diner. It was the dead of winter and already dark, but still open, with the red and blue neon sign glowing down the street.

"What is this place?" asked Clara.

"A tourist trap – my favourite tourist trap," said Esther. She looked to the Doctor, "How did you know?"

"We've been friends for a long time, Sparky. Yours is a lobster roll, isn't it?"

"Always."

In the end, it was lobster rolls all round, and they managed to find a booth because it wasn't so busy. There was a brief negotiation between Clara and Jenny about the glasses, with Clara asking for them back because of the bright lights in there. Jenny squinted when she removed them.

"New eyes no good for you?" said the Doctor.

"They'll adjust," she said. As promised, Esther got a lesson in Time Lords 101 while they waited for their food – dying and growing a whole new body, including missing appendages like arms and eyes. That was why there were different people calling themselves 'the Doctor', and it was why Jenny had an eerie, smooth hand with no fingernails.

Soon, though, plates upon plates arrived.

"God, after four months of British food, this hits the spot," said Esther, piling food into her mouth. She hadn't had a filling meal in months – in fact, she hadn't had a filling meal since rising from the grave.

"We eat lobster in the UK, too," said Clara. "Although, I suppose UNIT wasn't buying in lobsters for you."

"Everything's so brown, though," said Esther. "And those weird eggs, eurgh."

"What eggs?" asked Clara.

"Don't get Clara started on eggs, please," said the Doctor, her mouth full. Jenny was too hungry to pay attention to what they were talking about and had ordered quite a lot more than just a lobster roll: a cheeseburger, fries, chicken fingers – the works. Clara had talked her down from ordering a surf and turf, too.

"The ones with the meat," said Esther. "Hard-boiled."

"Scotch eggs?" said Clara.

"Those ones, yeah."

"I love Scotch eggs. You people do love to complain about our food, and meanwhile, all you do here is shoot each other to death," said Clara.

"Well… That's true," said Esther. "I was shot to death."

"Blimey – I'm sorry," said Clara immediately. "I didn't know."

"It wasn't here, though; it was in Argentina. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a lightning storm," said Esther. "That was six months ago."

"Blimey," said Clara.

"Were you, uh, joking about the vampire thing, by the way?" said Esther, glancing between Clara and the Doctor, roll in her hands. The Doctor ate nearly as relentlessly as Jenny.

"No, it's true," said Clara. "But don't worry, I'm not going to hurt anybody. I've got my flask." She nodded at it, right next to her on the table. Esther stared at her.

"…You're telling me that's full of blood?"

"Yeah – I don't want to make a big thing out of it, though. It's actually only been about a week since this happened, when I woke up with a bunch of people telling me I'd died in the most horrendous way," said Clara with a sigh.

"I don't get it. How can vampires be real?"

"How can time-travelling aliens capable of regrowing their hands be real?" said the Doctor, nodding at Jenny, who grimaced. "Honestly, stick around, and you'll get a very keen sense of perspective."

"Or you'll lose all sense of perspective," said Clara quietly. She leant towards Esther, boring into her with those black eyes. "Everybody on that ship is stark raving mad. You'll see. If you ever need a break, I've got a sofa you're welcome to."

"Um, okay," said Esther. What did Clara get out of warning her in such vague terms? "I'll keep that in mind."

"Who are you, anyway?" asked Jenny while she took a breather between platefuls of food. "All I've gotten is that you're called Esther, you're American, and you like lobster."

"I know Jack, from Torchwood," said Esther. "We worked together during the Miracle."

"Oh. You're that Esther," said Jenny.

"Does he talk about me?"

"Not really, but Jack doesn't talk about anybody. He said that you died, and it shouldn't have happened that way," said Jenny. "More than most people get."

"Uh-huh…" Esther put two and two together. Oswin's jibe about Jack's ex-wife sleeping with people who looked like her, Jenny sitting here with another doppelgänger talking about how withdrawn he'd always been. "You're the ex-wife, aren't you? They said he had one."

"We were only together for three months," said Jenny. "Three and a half."

"And you got married in that time?"

"For a few weeks."

"And then you cheated on him," said the Doctor. "Repeatedly, as I understand it." Clara looked down at her plate. Jenny didn't say anything more, returning to her food. "I jest. I know these two kids are happy together," said the Doctor, smiling at Jenny and Clara. "Who better to trust with my daughter's heart than my wife?"

"Don't say that," said Clara, while Jenny pulled a face.

"Are you still married?" Esther asked. "You said you were from the future, right?"

"Yes. Don't ask how far, because I can't tell you. But, yes, I'm still married to my Clara."

"Isn't that weird? You two being with the same person?"

"I try not to think about it," said Clara quietly.

"Honestly, I've gotten used to it," said the Doctor.

"And, in the future," Esther began, "do you know what happened to me? Jack's looking into it – does he find out?" The Doctor didn't say anything for a moment. She narrowed her eyes, thinking.

"You'll find out," she said finally. "I won't say anything else on the subject." Esther couldn't blame her for not divulging much about her future, but it was nice to know they'd get to the bottom of things. Unless she was lying. Would the Doctor lie? Esther didn't know. She supposed that she'd find out eventually.

"I'd kill for a po' boy right about now," said Jenny, still fighting through her plates. "We used to fill them with crab and pickles when I was growing up."

Esther frowned. "Where was that?"

"New Orleans," said Jenny.

"Aren't you an alien?"

"Mm, an alien with an English accent. And yet, I lived in the Irish Channel for years. What about you? Are you from Maine?"

"Oh, well, my family were from Scotland, originally," said Esther.

"And by 'originally', you mean about two hundred years ago, I imagine?" said Clara.

"Yes, but I'm not claiming that I'm Scottish," said Esther. "I had a great-grandfather who fought for the Union during the Civil War; that's as American as you can get. My mom moved to D.C., and I lived there my whole life – except for college. I went to Yale."

"Yale. That's one of the fancy ones, isn't it?" said Clara.

"It's Ivy League, yeah. It's hard to get scouted for the CIA if you don't attend an Ivy," Esther explained.

"Sorry, the CIA?" said Clara.

"I was just an analyst," she said. "Nothing interesting ever happened to me until Torchwood, and that was more coincidence than anything else."

"Do you know what I call a coincidence?" said the Doctor. Esther shrugged. "Destiny. All of that happened so that you can be here, now, in this diner, with us."

"Why do I need to be here in this diner?"

"Because it's better than being dead. Now!" she clapped. "Who's for dessert?"

---

Rewritten April 2024

908: Another Girl Another Planet XI

Ravenwood

"Well, she seems nice enough," said Clara as Jenny threw herself down onto her bed, fully clothed. They were back in Jenny's bedroom, having been in the medibay all day, which was overflowing with trinkets that Clara was dying to know the stories behind. Clara took off her jacket – her café racer, which she was now borrowing from Jenny, as if it belonged to her – and hung it up.

"I'm so tired," said Jenny.

"I'm not surprised," said Clara. "Get changed into some pyjamas, though. You'll feel better."

"I might sleep naked," said Jenny once she'd sat up and begun unlacing her boots.

"Are you sure? I'll be next to you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I wouldn't want you to get cold, that's all," said Clara.

Jenny didn't say anything for a while. They got undressed together in silence until Jenny theatrically collapsed onto the bed again, completely nude.

"I'll take the risk."

Clara still delayed, making sure to brush her teeth before joining Jenny – something history had told her was too easy to forget to do on the TARDIS. When she got into the bed, Jenny wasted no time curling up next to her and put her head on Clara's chest.

"I'm serious, you're going to be shivering," said Clara, smiling slightly as she wrapped her arms around Jenny like she clearly wanted. It was quiet again for a few moments until Jenny broke it.

"We haven't had sex since you got turned." She was as blunt as ever; Jenny either didn't talk about her feelings at all, or she talked about them in the most candid way possible.

"…Yeah, I know," said Clara quietly. "Is it bothering you?"

"No, but I want to have a conversation."

"But if it's not bothering you-"

"Clara, our entire relationship is built on sex," said Jenny, and then she hastily added, "in a nice way."

"We should find more things to do with each other," said Clara. "I don't think that's sustainable."

"Okay. Let's start a band."

Clara couldn't help but laugh. "Excuse me?"

"You play piano, I play the fiddle," said Jenny.

"You say this, but you've never proven it."

"It's just over there," said Jenny, pointing out her antique violin on top of the chest of drawers. Clara extricated herself and grabbed it from the side, bringing it back to the bed and handing it to Jenny.

It took some warming up, but eventually, Jenny strung together a tune, an Irish folk song Clara didn't recognise.

"Alright, well, if someone had told me a few weeks ago I'd be sitting in bed watching my naked girlfriend play the violin for me…" Clara eyed her. Jenny smiled. Even with what she'd been through that day, she still smiled.

"I told you I could play," she said. "This hand is too soft, though. No calluses." Jenny put the violin down and balled her fist. To Clara's surprise and heartbreak, there were tears in her eyes.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she said, touching Jenny's cheek.

"You know I don't get older," said Jenny.

"Don't you?" said Clara. "You look two hundred and eight to me." Jenny sniffed.

"I used to have scars, all over. But that was me. I don't wrinkle or change otherwise. It's like I've been put back to zero." Clara pulled her in and hugged her tightly.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say. She sensed that words wouldn't help Jenny, and this was just something she needed to grieve – something she'd been putting off grieving for weeks, since her last regeneration. "You could always get tattoos for certain memories. Did you have tattoos before?"

"Tiny ones, hidden." Clara kept hugging her, rubbing her back. "I am going to put some clothes on, actually."

"That's okay," Clara whispered. She released Jenny but kissed her cheek before Jenny got up from the bed, slowly dressing herself. "Were you cold?"

"A little chilly," she admitted.

"Well, maybe we should… get an electric blanket?" Clara suggested. Jenny smiled meekly. "Or one of those really long hot water bottles. Then you'll always be warm, even when I'm…"

"It bothers you that you're cold a lot more than it bothers me," said Jenny. "I lived in the tundra for years. I got frostbite a lot. One of my first scars was frostbitten skin that didn't grow back properly on one of my toes."

"How sexy," said Clara. She tugged on Jenny's hand. "Come on, lie down." She did, and they resumed their earlier position of Clara cradling Jenny in her arms. "It's not just that I'm cold, or that it's been traumatic – even though it has." Jenny listened intently. Clara paused for a few moments, collecting herself. "I'm afraid that I'll hurt you."

"Hurt me? How would you do that?"

"What if there's… what if there's a bloodlust? And it takes over?" said Clara.

"But I'm not human," said Jenny. "You said I don't smell like food."

"You don't, but… you're still warm. And you're full of blood, and I can hear your hearts, and see the veins, and it all… I'm just afraid. And then Ashildr broke in and she just… You're fragile. More fragile than I realised." Jenny nuzzled her.

"If you get really worried, you can always make me a vampire, too," said Jenny.

"Does it work cross-species?"

"It must do. They weren't humans originally, after all. I think it's just blood consumption that's species-dependent," said Jenny.

"You'd need Time Lord blood, then."

"We'll plan it," said Jenny. "I'll clone my own blood, in advance."

"Jenny…"

"It's alright," she said softly. "I'm kidding. But it's an option, if… I don't know. One day. Maybe I'll run out of regenerations."

"Don't say that."

"I'm going to try not to, obviously. I just haven't been very good at it lately."

"I'll cover you in bubble wrap. Then you'll be okay."

"Clara, trust me," said Jenny. "All I want is to be okay for you."

"Is that true, though?" Clara whispered, her breath catching in her throat. Silence.

"What do you mean?" asked Jenny, more serious than Clara had ever heard her.

"You stopped fighting, Jen. It was like you let her."

"I… I was thinking."

"About what?"

"About whether she was right. About whether, somehow, by deserting when I did, I was responsible for what happened on Deftan – a million deaths," said Jenny. "And if I was, well, isn't that what I deserve? Isn't it justice?"

"No, don't be absurd," said Clara. "Even if you had done that, you should be put on trial, shouldn't you? Ashildr can't turn up and execute people whenever she feels like it. And you're forgetting that she was there to kill me, based on nothing more than knowing there was a vampire."

"I'm going to find him," said Jenny. "Cargill. He's going to tell me what he's done, and if I have to, I'll face the Alliance. But I didn't order that charge – I never would have done. I did reconnaissance, and all the intelligence suggested that a head-on assault of the base was suicide."

"I believe you," said Clara.

"I can't bear anybody thinking I'm like the Doctor. That I make messes and ruin lives and then just leave and don't acknowledge the consequences."

"Well, I can't speak for everybody in the universe, but I don't think you're like that." Clara rubbed her shoulder. Again, Clara got the feeling that Jenny was about to confide more about her past, but she didn't. Clara didn't press her. "I love you."

"I love you, too," said Jenny. She'd never get used to that, to the novelty of the Doctor's daughter being in love with her.

"Would you ever leave the TARDIS? Out of interest?" said Clara.

"Are you asking me to?"

"No. Just curious."

"Yes, I'd leave. I've lived my whole life in places other than the TARDIS, and it's not as romantic as I thought it'd be," said Jenny. "And I'll have my own ship soon enough, anyway."

"Where will you go?" asked Clara.

"Anywhere I like. But never too far away from you. Now, though, I need to go to sleep. We both do."

"You've been sleeping for hours."

"You try growing a new hand and two new eyes, see how much energy you have," said Jenny. "You were unconscious for days and all you have to show for it are your silly teeth."

"I thought you liked my fangs?" asked Clara, smiling a little.

"I do. I'm going to be dreaming about them if you'll let me sleep."

"Okay," said Clara, kissing her forehead, the easiest bit of Jenny to reach. "I'll see you in the morning."

"You, too."