DAY 125

Rewritten April 2024

909: Modern Prometheus

River

"I just don't get it, though," said Rose as she chewed an apple that she was slowly but surely getting through. "How does the sea still exist?" Neither River nor Nios, the only others at Rose's table, had an answer for her, and they were both sick to death of hearing it. River wouldn't be surprised if Nios went full Skynet and tried to kill Rose in a minute.

"I think you should drop it," said Nios once more. Rose continued to think.

"But it just doesn't make sense," she said.

"Maybe it just doesn't make sense to you?" said River. Rose glared at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not a fish," said Nios, before River could insult Rose again. "So, why does it matter? If humans were made to be in the sea, they would have gills, just like if I was made to be in the sea, I would be waterproof to more than a depth of ten feet."

"Why are you waterproof in the first place?" said Rose.

Deadpan, Nios responded, "Rain."

Before Rose could retaliate and keep on the topic of why the ocean still existed or had ever existed, they were all distracted by the arrival of a newcomer, a small woman River hadn't met. Rose, however, recognised her.

"Esther!" she said.

"Oh, hello," said Esther. American.

"Did you meet everybody else yet?" said Rose.

"No."

"This is River, this is Nios," Rose introduced them. "Esther's Jack's, er… I don't know. Woman he's been stalking."

"Perhaps Jack should learn to stay away from the fairer sex, after what happened last time," said River.

"It's not like that," said Esther quickly. "We worked together, at Torchwood. Until I died. But now, I'm alive again."

"Another human who refuses to die," said Nios.

"Don't be a misery guts, she's new," said Rose. "Martha was giving her a once-over yesterday, and I tagged along. She's got lightning powers."

"Another manifest?" asked River.

"No, I'm decidedly not a manifest," said Esther. "That's why UNIT was so interested in me."

"Kate Stewart's had her locked up in the Tower of London for months," said Rose.

"I wouldn't say no to being locked up by Kate Stewart," said River. Rose pulled a face.

"Listen, clear something up for me," said Rose, causing River and Nios to groan again. "What do you know about the sea?"

"About as much as anybody else, I think," said Esther, still standing in the middle of the room like she was waiting for permission to go into the kitchen.

"Well, it's full of salt, isn't it?" said Rose.

"Yes?"

"So, why doesn't the salt just absorb all the water? Why does the sea exist at all?"

"Stupid question," River shook her head.

"It's not salt," said Esther. "Well, it's minerals, but they dissolve into their base compounds in the water. And it's always moving, so it all keeps circulating."

"Which is the same thing I said," said River.

"I still don't get it," said Rose.

"I'm not sure you need to," said Esther. "It isn't useful information if you're not a mineralogist."

"A what?" said Rose.

"Never mind…"

At that point, Jenny came into the room, carefully avoiding Esther and smiling politely on her way past.

"Jenny," said Rose. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends on what it's about," she said, breezing past them all to get to the kitchen.

"The sea. It's full of salt, so, why doesn't the salt absorb all the water? Like when you put grit on salty roads?"

"Because I won't allow that to happen," said Jenny. "No saltwater means no lobsters, and that would be no good for Esther. Do you want breakfast? I've been tasked with making poached eggs and toast."

"I'll have some poached eggs," said Rose.

"I was asking Esther," said Jenny.

"No, that's okay, I was just going to make something else," said Esther.

"Looks like you've got eggs going free," said Rose.

"Poach your own eggs," said Jenny as she took a saucepan out of the cupboard and set it on the hob, then filled the kettle with water.

"You two have met, then?" said River.

"Yes, the Doctor made us go out for dinner in the middle of the night," said Jenny.

"I heard your hand was growing back, too."

"All good now. Better get your breakfast before the morning rush," Jenny advised Esther, who still hadn't moved. At that, she nodded, and joined Jenny in the kitchen, stepping around her.

"What happens if you touch someone?" asked Rose, watching her do this.

"They get zapped," said Esther. "It's difficult to control."

"Have you killed anybody?" said Rose.

"Don't ask her that," said River.

"You can't touch anybody, though?" Rose went on, though at least she stopped pressing Esther about whether she'd committed murder.

"Nope."

"And they can't touch you, either?"

"Why would I want them to?"

"Excuse me?" Rose frowned.

"I just prefer it if people never touch me, that's all," she shrugged.

Before Rose could say anything else, the doors slid open. Alpha Clara came in and, shortly after, her dark shadow; Clara Ravenwood avoided everybody's gaze as she glided ominously through the room, the air temperature dropping a few degrees. It was no longer difficult to tell them apart – plus, Ravenwood was wearing glasses now.

Rose had just about finished her apple and she now threw the core at Alpha Clara and struck her on the head.

"What was that for!?" said Clara as the core landed on the floor.

"Dunno. Just funny. Will you put it in the bin for me?"

"I…" At a loss, Clara stooped to pick it up, and a few people in the room groaned. "What?"

"Why would you pick it up after she threw it at you?" said River.

"Well, I – it's on the floor," she said. Now, she had a dilemma; did she pick up the apple core or leave it there?

"Isn't this exhilarating," said Clara Ravenwood, lingering next to Jenny in the kitchen while she made eggs. "Six people waiting to see if a woman picks up an apple or not."

"Why don't you pick it up?" said Rose. Ravenwood glared at her. "Why are you wearing glasses, anyway?"

"For the lights – the sun," she said.

"Right," Alpha Clara announced, "I am going to pick it up, but not because I'm a doormat – because I know nobody else bloody will if I don't."

After the high drama of the apple core incident, things quieted down in Nerve Centre. Esther quizzed Jenny on how she managed to poach every single egg perfectly and Rose went back to muttering about salt. Alpha Clara hovered after going to the bin.

"What are you doing?" Nios asked her eventually.

"I was just going to make tea, but I don't want to bother them when they're in there," she said quietly, trying not to look at Jenny and Ravenwood – who definitely heard.

"For God's sake, I'll make the tea," said Rose, getting up.

"Do you have any peanut butter?" asked Esther, looking around the cupboards. Jenny didn't answer, but she left the eggs unattended momentarily to pick out a jar of peanut butter from a shelf. "What brand is this?"

"Whatever supermarket they went to last," said Jenny.

"It's not Skippy," she said. "Hm…"

"Does the brand matter?" asked Ravenwood.

"What, exactly, are you making?" Rose looked over Esther's shoulder.

"It's just a banana sandwich. They wouldn't let me have them at UNIT. Broke my streak," said Esther. With a sigh, she resigned herself to the alternate brand of peanut butter. "It's not creamy, either…"

"I'll get you the right brand when I have time," said Jenny. Esther slathered peanut butter on the bread and then dropped banana slices on top. "But what do you mean, broke your streak?"

"Well, I had this for breakfast every day since I was eleven, until Torchwood got in the way of all my routines," she said.

"You had the same thing for breakfast every day for… how many years is that?" asked Rose. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-one."

"Twenty years?"

"I guess. I never really thought about it. I love bananas."

"What if you get sick of it?" said Rose.

"Jeez, that doesn't even bear thinking about. I'd have to find a whole 'nother breakfast – who knows how long that would take? No, no; I'm happy with my bananas."

"Don't you want variety, though?"

"If I like the banana sandwiches, why would I want to eat anything else?" said Esther, looking at her blankly.

"Um… No, sure…" Rose gave up.

Esther made her sandwich, Jenny plated up her eggs, and Rose finished the teas, everybody decanting back to the kidney-shaped tables to enjoy breakfast. And they did enjoy it - until the Eleventh Doctor burst into the room. He practically fell over himself and the sofas in his haste to get to Esther, who was savouring every morsel of bananas and peanut butter.

"I've had an idea," he announced, slapping his palms down on the table. "We're going to get to the bottom of this lightning business, and I know just the man to help us – an old friend of mine, Nick."

"Nick?" asked Alpha Clara, eyes raised.

"Yes, Nick! I've told you about Nick. Gave me an anti-gravity pen, wonderful chap. Nobody knows electricity like Nick; I have full confidence in him." He stood up straight and crossed his arms.

"What are you waiting for…?" asked Esther.

"To leave! It's urgent!"

"I'm eating my breakfast."

"Will you make me some cereal?" Clara intervened. He grimaced but relented.

"Fine. But we're going as soon as the cereal's finished."

"While you make that cereal," Rose began, "I have a question. It's about the sea…"

DAY 126

Rewritten April/May 2024

919: Pteropus Vampyrus

Martha

"Yes, I know you're self-conscious, but I don't have a good enough microwave in my room, so we're staying in here," Jenny said quietly to the vampire bat sitting, propped up by its clawed wings, on one of the dining tables in Nerve Centre. She had a mug of freshly warmed human blood and was trying to convince Clara Ravenwood, who'd been stuck as a bat for the last twelve hours, to drink it from a plastic syringe she'd stolen from the medibay. Ravenwood could only squeak in response.

"I didn't know that bats squeak," said Martha, watching this play out next to Mickey on one of the sofas, each of them with their morning coffee in hand. Amy and Donna were in there, too, eating breakfast, everybody enthralled by the bat.

"She's doing her best, it's hard," said Jenny, feeding her with the syringe.

"You really are in love with her, aren't you?" said Amy.

"Yes."

"So, why is she stuck like that?" asked Donna. Jenny opened her mouth to speak at the same time the guilty party, Esther Drummond, came into the room that morning. Seeing the bat, she put her hands to her face.

"Oh my gosh, she still didn't change back?"

"No, but we're managing," said Jenny.

"I'm so sorry!"

"You're Esther, aren't you?" said Amy.

"Uh…"

"Nice to meet you. I'm Amy. Why are you taking responsibility for the bat situation?" Amy leant her chin on her elbow and looked pointedly at Esther, who shrank a little.

"I zapped her by accident," said Esther.

"You what?" said Amy.

"You guys need to set up some kind of group text chain or mailing list so that everybody knows what's going on," said Esther. "I set up all the mailing lists at my high school to keep everybody updated. Nobody ever mentioned it or thanked me, but I think they appreciated what I was doing with RSS feeds before they were cool." They all stared at her. "What?"

"I'm just thinking that I must have missed the point when RSS feeds were cool," said Amy.

"Well, how else was I supposed to keep up with all the latest blogs about GPUs in the nineties? The GeForce 256 changed the world," said Esther, scoffing a little as she made a beeline for the kitchen.

"Can we rewind?" said Amy. "What do you mean, you 'zapped' her?"

Briefly as possible, and not hiding how annoyed she was to repeat herself so much, Esther again recounted her resurrection story and newfound ability to summon lightning from the sky – this time with the new addition that they knew what had caused it, and that it wasn't reversible.

"Urgh. I can't believe the Doctor went to meet Tesla and didn't take me," said Amy.

"I got you some peanut butter, by the way," said Jenny when Esther got into the kitchen. "In that cupboard, there." She pointed it out and Esther withdrew a jar of creamy Skippy.

"Oh," she was surprised.

"That's the right one, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I just didn't think you'd remember – or that you wouldn't want to go to the trouble of getting me some peanut butter after I've turned your girlfriend into a bat," said Esther.

"It's not your fault," said Jenny. Ravenwood squeaked again. "Clara says she forgives you."

"She…?"

"I speak bat," said Jenny.

"Are you joking?"

"No."

"Because I can't always tell when people are joking, it's…" Esther kept staring at her.

"No, I do. It's a lot of clicks, I don't think human ears can hear all the noises properly," said Jenny. "I can't even hear all of them properly." Jenny then did the rounds of properly explaining to Esther who everybody else in the room was – Mickey, Donna, and Amy.

"Is that everybody?" Martha asked. "Who else haven't you met?"

"I don't think I've met all the Doctors. Is there any coffee?" she asked, looking into an empty bag of coffee granules.

"No, me and Martha finished it, sorry," said Mickey. "No milk or tea, either. Or sugar. Adam Mitchell usually does the shopping, and he hasn't."

"Surely, you're all capable of going shopping?" said Jenny, resuming feeding Clara Ravenwood drops of blood with the syringe while Esther sliced up a banana.

"I've already said I'll find him and go later," said Martha. "He's probably got coffee hidden in his room somewhere, anyway. You could go ask him." Esther didn't say anything. She picked up an empty mug from the draining board and stared into it, thinking. "Everything alright?"

"It's just, even at UNIT, they gave me a coffee every morning. What's the day going to come to if I don't get my coffee?" she said. Then she muttered, setting the mug back down, "I always have a coffee…"

"What'll happen if you don't get a coffee?" asked Martha.

"I won't have a coffee," said Esther.

"But then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think something bad will happen?"

"Other than me not having a coffee?"

"…Never mind," said Martha.

"When will the shopping happen, exactly?" Esther went on.

"Do you want me to go and ask Adam for you?" said Jenny.

"No, I just want to know," she said.

She didn't have to wonder for much longer, because finally, the man of the hour arrived. Adam Mitchell came in carrying something, only to be immediately besieged by everybody asking him when he was next going to go shopping at once.

"I was just busy for a few days…" he said. "Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you're rich," said Mickey.

"Well, fine. Is there a list?" Again, they all shouted at him, loud enough that Martha saw Esther wince. She took it upon herself to shush Mickey and Amy and then volunteered to make the shopping list herself on her new phone.

"This is why there should be an RSS feed - or a text chain," she said.

"There shouldn't be," said Jenny quietly. "Too much politics."

"But how do things get organised?"

"They don't," said Jenny.

It took an age to arrange the list, decide who was going to go, and where they were going – Waitrose, this time, because Amy said she wanted something different from the usual fare, especially if they were spending Adam Mitchell's money. There were no Waitroses in New York in the 1930s, of course.

It was decided that Adam, Martha, and Amy would go, and then Esther offered to come, too, because she had her own list of very specific things she wanted to try and find. Martha didn't think much of her chances, but she could probably find enough alternatives. And then Jack came in and threw a spanner in the works.

"A little birdie told me you were all going shopping," he said, dressed in his usual Air Force regalia. Martha couldn't help but be suspicious.

"What birdie?" she asked him.

"Oswin, via texts from Adam. I was just seeing if she knew where Esther was and asking for a favour."

"I'm, uh, right here," said Esther, smiling a little while she finished her peanut butter and banana sandwich.

"Are you going with him?" he asked.

"I was gonna, yeah."

"Great. I'll come, too," he decided.

"What favour did you need from Oswin?"

"She's just doing some googling for me. Looking into who's been trying to access Torchwood's legacy files from the last few years in case it points me towards our reanimator. What's in your hands, there?" Jack nodded at Adam.

"It's… Christ, I completely forgot, it's the gloves, for you," he turned to Esther and held them out. She took them very carefully, trying not to make any contact with his exposed skin. "That was the entire reason I came in here."

"And now you're taking us shopping," said Amy. "It's like having a sugar daddy."

"A sugar daddy who buys you teabags?" said Martha.

Amy shrugged. "Not the worst kind of teabag you can get from a man."

"That's revolting."

"So, what's with the bat?" Jack asked Jenny. Silence. Everybody held their breath.

"Don't speak to me," said Jenny, setting down the syringe and picking up her glass of water.

"It's Clara," said Martha. "Other Clara."

"Go figure," said Jack, and then he moved on, talking to Esther again. "Shopping, then? I'm running low on lube." At that, Jenny's glass of water shattered in her hand, and blood flowed from a cut on her palm.

"Unbelievable," said Martha, getting up to examine the injury. Jenny wouldn't let her, though, standing and pulling her hand away. "At least let me look at it – that's your new hand."

"It's fine, just a cut, I can manage," said Jenny, dodging around Martha easily, as if she was dancing. She didn't look at Jack or say another word, disappearing into the medibay with Ravenwood flapping behind her. Martha could think of worse fates than being able to fly – even if she was a bat.

Martha turned her gaze on Jack, hands on her hips.

"What did you do that for?" she asked, but he had no good answer.

"As I was saying," said Jack. "Shopping?"

Rewritten May 2024

924: Hello, Goodbye

Esther

Cornwall was hell, and she was going to become a vegetarian. If a simple grocery run could turn into a living hell, what was going to happen when they tried to go somewhere further afield? What kind of torments awaited through time and space? She'd seen enough horrors during the Miracle with its overflow camps, and the TARDIS wasn't the respite she thought it would be. They'd made her euthanise a cow like it was nothing – a living creature. They'd stood by and watched a man throw himself into a meat grinder as if his death was a foregone conclusion. She was drenched in somebody else's blood as if it was normal. It made her sick.

And then she was sick. Who could blame her? She emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet and then showered, scrubbing her skin and washing her hair three times. Sparks crackled every time the water hit her, sending shocks she was immune to through the water. She stayed under the showerhead for a long time even when she was clean, thinking.

The Doctor had rescued her from UNIT, and surely UNIT and the CIA would still be trying to find her. If she was on the TARDIS under his protection, that was one thing, but she didn't think she could stay – so what did that mean for her safety? She now understood what Clara Ravenwood had meant, though. You'll lose all sense of perspective. Everybody on that ship is stark raving mad.

And then she remembered. Ravenwood had offered her a couch to stay on. But if she was still trapped in her bat form, Esther didn't know how much that would help her. Still, it was better than nothing.

She towelled herself off and got dressed in a fresh set of clothes that the TARDIS produced for her, comfy and loose-fitting items, then set out with a new mission: find Jenny. She had to stop in Nerve Centre and get directions to accomplish this, from people who looked at her like she was speaking a different language – but people always looked at Esther like she was speaking a different language, except for the most inhuman among them, Nios, who was the one who told her which room was Jenny's.

Her only stroke of luck that day was that Jenny was there and not hiding away deeper in the ship where Esther would never find her, and that she was with Clara – humanoid again. With ashen skin and black eyes, it was definitely the right one. There was a moment when Esther was overcome with guilt and went to apologise again for what had happened, but Clara was able to smile at her. The smile disappeared very quickly.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. She was halfway through packing a small bag. Esther didn't say a word. "You smell like blood, Esther. Are you alright?"

"I saw a man fall into a meat grinder," she blurted out.

"You what?" said Jenny. Esther couldn't say it again. Jenny and Clara shared a look. "Sit down there's, um – it's messy, sorry, but you can sit on the bed." Clara moved out of the way. Esther perched on the edge of the bed.

"You changed back, then?" she said after a moment.

"Yeah, the Doctor showed up, helped talk me through it," Clara said. "Maybe I explain it all to her at some point in the future, when I can control it better… Still, I have to thank you for unlocking it."

"Thank me?"

"Every cloud, and all," said Clara, sitting on the bed as well, at a safe distance. Jenny remained standing and crossed her arms.

"I don't think I can stay here," said Esther. "I think you were right about them. They – they made me euthanise a cow, with my powers! With my hands! And we were covered in that man's blood like it was nothing."

"Yeah, it… yeah," Clara could only agree. "You, erm… I think, if you want to leave, Adam and Oswin are who you should talk to. Adam's the one who sorted all my fake documents when I moved to a parallel universe, he did all the admin."

"I can do my own admin," said Esther.

"Do you need to, though?" said Clara. "If they offer?"

"I don't know…" She put her head in her hands and took a deep breath. "Where am I supposed to go, if not here?"

"You can stay on my sofa?" Clara suggested, exactly as Esther had hoped she would. "We were about to head back, actually. Jenny persuaded the Doctor to clean up all of the, um…"

"All of my blood," said Jenny.

"Yeah, that. And install this new security system."

"But that's not permanent," said Esther. "I… It's not good for me to be in a state of transition all the time, to have that instability – my brain doesn't work properly if I can't rely on things to be the same." Clara clicked her fingers, having an idea so exciting she couldn't explain it right away.

"What?" asked Jenny.

"Sally Sparrow!" said Clara. "I told you – she was in the shop the night before last, complaining to Dylan about how she needs a housemate because she can't afford her rent. So, I'll move in with Sally Sparrow, and Esther can live in my cottage."

"Excuse me?" said Esther.

"Clara fancies her," Jenny explained.

"She's gorgeous," said Clara. "But look, I can get her details from Dylan – the owner of the bookshop I work in – if you're interested. You'd be moving to a tiny village in Yorkshire, though." Esther stared at her. "I was joking about the cottage part – I'll stay in the cottage. But Sally has a room going."

"I was just in a tiny village, and a guy fell into a meat grinder," said Esther. She was never going to unsee that. "And didn't Jenny get murdered there?"

Clara sighed. "She did, yeah."

"That was someone looking for me, specifically," said Jenny. "There's a vendetta at work that I'm trying to solve. Those Cargills you met yesterday, they're framing me for war crimes in the future. Clara's explained it all since she… got back."

"Those two? They're framing you for war crimes?" said Esther.

"Yes, but I don't know why."

"Forget about that," said Clara. "You need a house and Sally Sparrow needs a housemate. She seemed nice when I met her – and I don't just mean that I think she's nice because I fancy her. She helped me restock some Bibles and didn't ask any questions about it." Esther didn't say anything. "Hey. You should at least meet her and look around the house, right? We'll come with you."

"Yes," said Jenny. "I want to meet Sally Sparrow for myself."

"Don't beat her up," said Clara. "She's not interested in me; I'm interested in her."

"We'll see," said Jenny, deep in thought.

"What's this village like?" asked Esther.

"Sleepy," said Clara. "A little odd, but… nice enough. And, you know, I say it's in the middle of nowhere, but we're talking about England, not America. You're never more than an hour or two away from a major city, really. It's just a little island."

"Relatively speaking, it's a big island, but I see your point," said Esther.

"And you are still welcome on the sofa," Clara reiterated. "At least there's daylight there. I can't enjoy it, but somebody can."

"You'll call her?"

"Yes. Well, actually, I'll call Dylan to get her number, but then I'll call her, yeah," Clara nodded, already getting out her phone. "You should tell Adam what's going on, though."

"I don't know. He was there with the meat grinder, too. It didn't bother him much, either."

"Tell him that, then," said Jenny. "Tell them it's disturbing. Give them a wake-up call."

"I'm… I'm probably not going to do that, but okay," Esther stood, a little wobbly. She wanted nothing more than to rest somewhere quiet, somewhere real. But she had business to take care of.

"We won't leave without you," said Jenny. "We'll wait here."

She thanked them and left, heading out to find Adam and Oswin. She didn't know whether it was good or bad that, when she went into their room, Jack was there as well. Oswin had her holographic screens up and was showing him old personnel files. He'd showered, at least, standing behind Oswin with his hands in his pockets. Adam, also washed, was chopping up a bell pepper. How could he eat so soon after what they'd seen?

"Hello, there," said Jack. "Oswin's just showing me what she's been researching."

"Yes, because I have nothing better to do," Oswin grumbled.

"Okay, sure," said Esther. "I'm just here to let you know that, actually, I might be leaving. Clara – Other Clara – knows someone with a free room, and I can't stay here anymore after what I've seen today. That's all." She turned to leave.

"Whoa, whoa," Jack rushed over and got between her and the door, about to take her shoulders to stop her, but thinking better of it when her skin fizzed with bright sparks. "You want to leave the TARDIS?"

"Yes. I need a real home, with stability. This isn't that. That man died, Jack. We were covered in his blood, his innards, all of it – and you acted like it was nothing," she said, looking up at him. He clenched his jaw. "So, I want to leave."

"Don't blame you," said Oswin. "But I'll miss you. You're cute. I'm sure Clara will like having you in the house – that cottage is very intimate."

"It's not like that," said Esther. "She said Sally Sparrow needs a housemate."

"Sally Sparrow? Spooky Sally?" said Jack.

"Uh, what?" asked Esther.

"Ignore him," said Oswin. "Sally's fine, nice enough. She's into ghost hunting and alien conspiracies."

"I'm only here because Clara told me you could help with the forms and documents that I'll need to make people think I have a right to be in the country," said Esther. "And then, if it works out, maybe I'll get a job freelancing… I could do white hat work, maybe."

"We always need new white hats at CyTech," said Adam. "I'll hire you, how's that? If you do decide to leave." Esther was stunned, staring at him. "What? You've got lots of experience, haven't you? Working for the CIA?"

"Well, yeah, if… If that's something you're willing to do-"

"It is." He stood up. "I'm sorry about today. It wasn't any good. For what it's worth, I wish seeing him die had bothered me like it bothers you – it makes me worry."

"That's it, then?" said Jack. "You're just… leaving?"

"I need – I need structure, and routine. It was difficult enough with Torchwood, but at UNIT – even though I was a prisoner, at least everything happened regularly," she tried to explain. "And there are no windows on here. No daylight. I can't live with that."

Jack studied her, and then gave in, managing a smile.

"I can't say I don't see the appeal of a life on Earth. I've always enjoyed it there," he said. "And I guess Spooky Sally isn't that bad. Do you want me to join you? I've met her a few times."

"You haven't shagged her, have you?" asked Oswin, eyes still fixed on her screen.

"I haven't had the pleasure, no," said Jack.

"I was, uh, gonna head over with Jenny and Other Clara," said Esther.

"Better I don't come, then," said Jack. "But expect visits. And I'm still looking into this reanimation."

"Sure," said Esther, but she couldn't bring herself to smile. Donovan's final moments replayed in her head.

"I'll work out the admin," said Adam. "Shouldn't take more than a day or two."

"Keep in touch, hot stuff," said Oswin, making Esther flinch. Oswin didn't notice.

"Thanks. Will one of you tell the Doctor? After he went to all that trouble to get me out of UNIT-"

"I'll do it," said Jack. "Good luck with everything." He almost hugged her but stopped himself before it was too late, remembering that she was electrified.

"Yeah," said Esther, who'd always been bad at leaving conversations. "Thanks. I'm going now. Bye." And she did, hoping that she wouldn't need any more luck, and that 'Spooky' Sally Sparrow wasn't the kind of person unfazed by a man's violent demise.

Rewritten May 2024

925: Wuthering Heights

Esther

The door to number sixteen, Lunar Terrace – the house Esther may or may not be moving into on a whim – was mustard yellow. It was wooden and quaint, making the house stand out, just a little, against a tiny street containing only a dozen terraces. Clara walked right up and knocked. She had packed her things but not brought them, her few possessions waiting in the TARDIS console room just in case she could escape that day. With nothing in her hands, she fidgeted as the door creaked open.

"Sally!" Clara beamed, startling her. "Nice to see you again."

"Yes, you too," said Sally.

"You haven't met Jenny yet, have you?" Clara went on.

"I don't believe so," said Sally. Jenny stepped forward.

"Hello," she said, holding out a hand for Sally to shake. Sally took it but then flinched; Jenny squeezed tightly like she was trying to break some bones. "I'm Clara's girlfriend."

"Very nice to meet you…" Sally stretched her fingers and winced when Jenny released her.

"And this is Esther," said Clara after shooting Jenny a glare, which Jenny ignored. "She's American, she shoots lightning bolts, and she's looking for somewhere to live."

"Uh, hello," said Esther. She hated introductions almost as much as she hated goodbyes.

"And you're willing to live here?" said Sally. "You know that it's the middle of nowhere, right?"

"I don't care where it is, as long as it's quiet," said Esther with a sigh.

"It certainly is that," said Sally Sparrow. "Do you want to look around, then? See the room?"

"Sure," said Esther.

"Great!" said Clara, more chipper than Esther had seen her before. Maybe she was also excited about leaving the TARDIS – or perhaps her crush on Sally Sparrow was simply that severe. She did keep staring at her, which wasn't the sort of thing Esther usually noticed. "We were just gonna go to the chippy, do you want anything? We can drop it by on our way back."

"Right," Sally nodded. "Because you live up in that old shepherd's hut, don't you?"

"Yes," said Clara. "And you're welcome to visit anytime."

"Somehow, I don't think I am," said Sally, Jenny glaring daggers at her as she looped her arm through Clara's and pulled her close. "I won't say no to fish and chips, though. But I can't pay you back."

"That's fine," said Clara. "What do you want? Anything specific?"

"Normal fish and chips is fine, thank you."

"What about you?" she turned to Esther.

"Just the chips."

"Chips are fries, by the way," said Clara.

"Yeah, I know. I've been to this country before."

"Great, great," said Clara, staring at Sally again for a moment, until Jenny elbowed her. "We'll be back in a few." Jenny smiled at Esther – and only at Esther – and pulled Clara away from the house, the two of them setting off down a cobbled street. Sally stepped aside and motioned for Esther to come in. She did, wiping her shoes on the doormat.

"So, I'll, uh, show you around," said Sally, the two of them stuck together in the tiny entrance hall, which was just a set of stairs with a door on either side at the bottom. Sally opened the door on the left and stepped inside. "Living room in here." It was modest: a sofa along the right-hand wall, a big armchair in the top left corner, and a television by the front window. The shelves were sparsely populated with only a few books and bits of ephemera and camera equipment. "Kitchen's just – argh!" She'd accidentally bumped into Esther while trying to get past.

"I'm so sorry!" said Esther. "It's the lightning, Clara said. Electricity." Sally rubbed her arm where she'd been shocked, Esther taking a step back. "Nobody can touch me."

"How do you mean, lightning? You're a manifest?"

"No, but I do have powers. They just came from somewhere else."

"Like where?"

"Alien medical machine that was struck by lightning when someone brought me back to life," she said. Sally didn't say a word. "Because I've been dead for four years. And then in UNIT's custody for months after I made it across the Atlantic." Still nothing. "Did Clara not mention any of this…?"

"No." Esther waited; was she going to be rejected as a roommate just like that?

"You, um, you said the kitchen's just through here, then?" Esther left the room, Sally following, to go into the only other door.

The kitchen was bigger than Esther expected, though the oven and range were archaic, as was the gas boiler mounted on the wall. There was a big, wooden dining table, but not many appliances. A kettle, toaster, and a microwave. On the back wall was another door presumably leading to a basement. To Esther's surprise, the windowsill was covered with plants, including a yucca sapling that was doing quite well and a few pots of herbs.

"It's a little empty," said Esther. "Other than the plants - are they yours?"

"Oh, yeah; I brought them up with me from London. But I didn't move in too long ago, hence the emptiness," said Sally, staying in the hall.

"And you're going to be evicted?"

"No, but I'll be in arrears by the end of this month if I don't do something," she explained. "And then I will be evicted, eventually. What do you mean, you've been dead for four years?"

As quickly as she could, Esther gave her the headlines. CIA analyst, ended up in Torchwood during the Miracle, shot to death, rose from the grave, and held in custody by Kate Stewart until two days ago. Sally listened, nodding along.

"Good to know," she said when Esther was done. "Are you sure you don't want to stay on the TARDIS? Surely, it's safer."

"No," said Esther quickly. "I'd rather not go back, I… I saw a man jump into a meat grinder today. I had to shower three times and I still don't feel clean. Clara said she can still smell it on me."

"Smell what…?"

"Blood."

"Why would she, um…" Sally cleared her throat. "Why would she be able to smell blood like that? I can't smell it."

"She's a vampire." Again, she was being stared at, and she didn't like it one bit. "They didn't tell you that, either?"

"Apparently not."

"You're kidding," said Esther, and then she scoffed. "I've never met a group of people so awful at communicating important information. I offered to set them up some kind of text chain or email alert so that they all know what's going on – half of them don't even speak to each other!"

"Mm," said Sally, nodding again. "When I last saw the crew at large, they were performing an ad hoc autopsy in somebody's cellar. Very unpleasant. Although, I imagine that's nothing compared to seeing someone go into a grinder, like in Fargo."

"It's a woodchipper," said Esther.

"You said it was a meat grinder."

"No, in Fargo, it's a woodchipper."

"I've only seen it once," she shrugged. "Do you want to look at the room, though? It's just upstairs."

"Go ahead," said Esther, letting her get a head start on the stairs. Sally led her up to the landing where there were two doors.

"Bathroom here," she opened one. It had a shower-bath and looked pleasant enough, though Esther could see burgeoning patches of mildew on the ceiling. "Spare room here."

The room was surprisingly spacious and had a bed and a bookshelf already. The carpeting was cream, and the walls were white and recently painted, though there was a spider in the corner. It was also completely silent, with the houses opposite visible through the window.

"It's part-furnished," said Sally. "Just has the beds, dining set, sofa, chair, and telly. Some of the shelves. But the mattresses are new, which is something."

"And where's your room? Isn't this the master bedroom?"

"I'm in the loft," she said. "I prefer it up there."

"Uh-huh," said Esther, smelling something very distinct. "Is that where you keep all your pot?" Sally opened her mouth to argue but only sighed.

"I did spray air freshener," she mumbled. "It's medicinal, it's for insomnia and depression."

"Insomnia?" asked Esther.

"Yes, I'm often awake at night – but I'm not noisy," Sally added quickly. "I've been dealing with it for a long time." None of that was good news for Esther, who preferred everything to be tidy, and for people to have predictable, regular schedules that didn't disturb her sleeping habits. But then she thought of those cows again and, well, having a night owl for a roommate suddenly didn't sound all that bad.

"How much is the rent?" she asked.

"Five hundred a month," said Sally. "Two-fifty split between us. I don't know what that is in dollars."

"Doesn't matter. I don't think I'll be getting paid in dollars anymore, anyhow."

"You're a real American, then? Not like Jack."

"I'm real. And I'm really interested in this room, too," she said. "Are the bills included in the rent?"

"No, it'll be another hundred and fifty on top, I think, or thereabouts," said Sally. "I can work it out properly at some point – if you're serious and you want to move in."

"Yes, absolutely. I need to be somewhere quiet and on Earth, it's… I've had no rest since the Miracle started."

"I remember it," said Sally. "Terrible, those camps."

"Yeah," Esther nodded. "When can I move in?"

"I mean, it's free now," said Sally.

"Don't you need to talk to anybody? A landlord or a realtor?"

"Not immediately, I'll just call with a request to amend the lease," she said. "Do you have references?"

"They're arranging it for me," she said. "Adam Mitchell's taking care of it and giving me a job with CyTech. I'm not sure exactly what it'll be yet, but it's something."

"Adam Mitchell? You know him?"

"He's on the TARDIS," said Esther. "He's Oswin's boyfriend. She said you've met."

"I've met Oswin, yeah, but she didn't mention… God, that's strange." She shook her head, thinking. "Well, you're welcome to stay tonight, but there's no bedding."

"I can probably get some from the ship if you're sure it's okay," said Esther.

"It's fine, just try not to electrocute me," she smiled. "And I think there'll be a fee for adding a new tenant to the lease."

"Sure, I can pay that once things are set up." Not that she knew how long that would take. Longer than it took Clara and Jenny to go and get dinner, because that was when they got back, knocking on the front door again. Sally smiled at Esther and went back downstairs to answer, Esther lingering halfway up so that she was out of shock range.

"Are you sure I don't owe you anything?" said Sally, taking two white paper parcels from Clara.

"Honestly, it's fine," said Clara. "My treat. How's it all going? Made a decision?" She peered up the stairs at Esther.

"Yes – I'm going to move in here, thanks," said Esther. "As soon as possible."

"Why don't you two stay for dinner?" said Sally. "Might be nice, if we're all going to be in the village now."

There was some to-ing and fro-ing about this as they apologised to each other for a while, seemingly for nothing, and then Clara ultimately agreed; typical Brits. Jenny didn't say a word, but she stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

"Everything's good, then?" Jenny asked Esther quietly when it was just them in the hall.

"I think so. She seems nice. I wish I had all my stuff, though."

"I'll fetch it for you from the TARDIS when we go," said Jenny.

"No, I mean the stuff from my old apartment, back home. I left so quickly; I don't know what happened to it all."

"Hm," Jenny thought. "I believe Torchwood has some contingencies for people who die in the line of duty, and what happens to their possessions." Esther had heard that, too. "I'll see if I can get it sorted by tomorrow."

"That'd be amazing, thank you." They joined Sally and Clara in the kitchen.

"I don't have much to drink, sorry," said Sally, searching the fridge. "Just half a bottle of dandelion and burdock. Or tea? There's plenty of tea. And some cognac, I think."

"I don't drink," said Esther.

"Nor I, at the moment," said Jenny. "I'll just have a glass of water."

"What's 'dandelion and burdock'?" asked Esther.

"Fizzy pop," said Clara. "Soda. It's a bit like root beer."

"Oh, sure, I'll try that," said Esther. Sally poured her a glass of what looked like cola but smelt very different – a little richer and a little less sweet.

"I, personally, won't say no to some cognac, if you're offering," said Clara. But when Sally pulled out from the cupboard under the sink a bottle of honey-coloured liquor, Clara's jaw dropped. "I, er, that's not what I was expecting."

"It's cognac," said Sally, showing her the label.

"Yeah, it's a Calvet from the twenties," said Clara. "I can't drink that."

"You don't like it?" Sally frowned.

"I know enough about brandy to know that that's about eight hundred quid for a bottle," said Clara.

"I just brought it with me when I came up from London," said Sally. Without a second thought for the ludicrously expensive, vintage brandy, she opened it and poured a generous measure into a glass for Clara, and then a little less into her own.

"Couldn't you have sold that? If you need the money?" asked Clara. "Eight hundred quid – wouldn't that cover all your expenses for a month?"

"It's only brandy," said Sally. "And I already sold my car last week."

"Erm… okay."

Jenny leaned over to look at the glass, smelling it over Clara's shoulder.

"I know someone who collects whiskey," she said. "I think she has some bottles of this."

"It's a twenty-eight, a good vintage, I understand," said Sally. "I'm not a big drinker, though; I couldn't possibly open a bottle if I was alone."

"Why open it at all?" Clara still stared at the cognac, even though Jenny had just plated up her fish and chips for her.

"I can't go around selling my great-grandmother's brandy collection," said Sally. "They're heirlooms that ought to be enjoyed."

"My great-grandmother collected teapot doilies," she said.

"If it really bothers you, we can take the TARDIS and get a new bottle to replace it with," said Jenny.

"Oh, no, the age is the point," said Sally. "It's really alright, though. But remind me never to share the Bisquit Dubouche with you."

"The…?" Clara stared at her, looking as if she was in the middle of a migraine.

"How much is that one worth?" asked Esther, curious now. She didn't know a thing about rare alcohol.

"A few thousand per bottle, I suppose," said Sally, like it was nothing.

"Okay," said Esther, getting through her huge fries – which were unreasonably greasy, "I'm missing something, aren't I?" Clara didn't answer her, so she looked to Jenny, but Jenny shrugged.

"Don't ask me, I'm practically an American myself," she said. "This is British stuff."

Clara was talking only to Sally. "I'm so sorry – I thought Dylan was joking when he called you the whatever-it-was of wherever-it-was."

"I haven't got any money, Clara," said Sally. "It's only a title."

"A title?" asked Esther.

"It's nothing," said Sally, growing much quieter. "Christ, I really shouldn't have mentioned the cognac at all…"

"No, but, seriously," Clara insisted.

"I'm – technically – the Countess of Hove, like Dylan said," said Sally. "But I don't use that title. I don't even like people knowing about the bloody thing because they act like it means something, and it doesn't."

"It means you have a title," said Clara. "It means we're all supposed to call you 'Your Ladyship'."

"No, actually; I insist that nobody ever does that. I would forfeit the whole thing if I could, but I can't. There's no way to do it," she said.

"I'm sure there is," said Clara. "Can't you give up a peerage if you want to sit in the House of Commons?"

"I don't want to sit in the House of Commons – but no, not even then."

"But you can. There's a law, isn't there?" Clara continued, but she finally started eating when Jenny prodded her in the side and nodded at the fish.

"Yes, there's a law, but it doesn't apply to me because the title dates back to before the sixties when the law was made."

"How much further back?"

"Not much," said Sally, going red. "Only to, um… 1572." Esther nearly choked on her food; this woman had a title that was over two hundred years older than Esther's entire country. "I can't stress enough how little it means. It doesn't come with any land. I don't own Hove."

"Hang on," said Esther when she'd collected herself. "I thought women can't inherit titles here."

"Been watching Downton Abbey, have you?" asked Sally. "It depends on the title. Some of them were created with remainders to allow women to inherit, and the Earldom of Hove happens to be one of them. I'd very much prefer not to talk about any of this, though." As a peace offering, she held her glass out to Clara, who relented.

"Cheers," said Clara, bumping the glasses together.

"Cheers," Sally repeated, and they both drank.

"I prefer America, honestly," said Jenny, already halfway through her food. Clara touched her knee and squeezed it fondly.

"You'll get used to it."

"So, anyway," said Sally, speaking to Esther. "You're moving in, and I don't even know your full name."

"Oh – Esther Drummond," said Esther. Sally got a funny look on her face. "What?"

"Nothing, just sounds an awful lot like 'Wester Drumlins'."

"What's that?"

"This old house, in London. It's nothing, I suppose. An odd coincidence."

"Maybe you're fated to live together," said Clara, batting Jenny's hand away when she tried to steal some chips, having already scoffed her own. Jenny pouted at her. "I told you that you should've got two portions."

"You can have some of mine, I probably won't eat them all," Sally offered.

"Are you sure?" said Jenny.

"Of course. Clara paid for them, anyway." Jenny didn't have it in her to turn down free food and took a big handful of clumpy potato from Sally's plate and dropped it onto her own, licking the salt and vinegar from her fingers. Sally resumed quizzing Esther. "Where are you from in America, specifically?"

"Washington D.C.," said Esther.

"Really? You grew up there?"

"Born and raised. Although, my mom's family moved to the District from Maine," said Esther. "They used to run a diner."

"No relation to the Strange Drummonds, then?"

"Who?"

"The Barons Strange," said Sally. "They're Drummonds."

"Uh…"

"I'm so sorry, Esther," said Clara. "You see, toffs have this awful habit of assuming that ordinary people know the names of random aristocrats they went to school with."

"I don't think it's a rare name," said Esther. "That's a real title, though? The Baron Strange?"

"It is – and I didn't go to school with any of them, for the record," said Sally.

"Where did you go to school, out of interest?" asked Clara. Sally glared at her. "Hogwarts? St Trinian's? Malory Towers?"

"Cheltenham," Sally finally admitted.

"Bloody hell. You really are posh."

"Yes, I know. Let's all move on and stop talking about it, please."

"So, when you were at school-"

"You're a vampire, then?" Sally cut her off. Clara shut up completely. "Or would you prefer not to talk about it?"

"…Fine, alright," said Clara. "I'm sorry. It's just so rare to meet a genuine aristocrat."

"It's much rarer to meet a genuine vampire," Sally countered. "You're not dangerous, are you? Where do you get blood from?"

"I have a machine that clones it from a donated sample," said Clara matter-of-factly. "No, I'm not dangerous, even to somebody who smells as delicious as you." Sally shifted in her chair, disturbed.

"She's safe," said Jenny. "And she can't get in unless you invite her, anyway."

"But I already have," said Sally. "Does it reset?"

"I don't know – it's all quite new," said Clara. "I suppose I'll find out. The vampire thing is a secret, though, don't tell anyone. Don't tell Dylan."

"I'm not in the habit of confiding in Dylan, don't worry. Even if he is being very good about the fact that I'm…"

"In hiding?" Clara suggested.

"Well, yes."

"You're what now?" asked Esther.

"Going through a breakup," said Sally. "Left London to avoid people."

"Avoid people and smoke weed, if the smell is anything to go by," said Clara.

"I barely smoke!" she protested. "And I've nearly run out, anyway. I don't have anybody to get it from up here."

"What is it? Marijuana?" said Jenny. "I'll get you some."

"Excuse me?" said Sally.

"Yes," said Clara, "Excuse her?" Jenny, who'd nearly finished, frowned at Clara.

"Why is it fine for me to use the TARDIS to go and buy brandy, but not to buy weed?" said Jenny. "It's legal everywhere in the future. I can just buy it with a spoofed credit chip for a pittance."

"Won't the Doctor mind you using the TARDIS to smuggle drugs?" asked Sally.

"How is he going to stop me? He hasn't managed to stop me from sleeping with his wife. And Other Clara smokes cigarettes, anyway; that's not exactly better," said Jenny.

"You've never offered to get me drugs," said Clara.

"You've never asked. What would you like?"

"It was mostly hypothetical," said Clara.

"Okay, well, if you 'hypothetically' think of anything you want, let me know," said Jenny, standing up. "I'll just go and fetch Esther's things."

"If she still wants to live here," said Sally, "considering that there are drugs in the house."

"You want me to go?" said Esther.

"What?"

"You just said…" Esther frowned. "I'm confused."

"I was joking, it – I don't know if it bothers you, that's all."

"No, I don't care, as long as I'm not gonna have to take anything," said Esther.

"I'm thirty, I'm not going to start peer-pressuring people to use drugs," said Sally.

"It's fine, then."

"I'll be back in a minute," said Jenny. She asked Clara to give her a hand, refusing Esther's offer to help even though it was her stuff, and then it was just the two of them again.

"Is it just pot?" asked Esther.

"No, I have mushrooms growing, too," Sally admitted. "For microdosing." Esther didn't say anything. "If it's the smell, I'll bake it into something."

"It's fine," Esther decided. "I'm not a cop."

"You did work for the CIA," said Sally. "How do I know you won't dob me in?"

"I won't what?" asked Esther. Sally paused, thinking.

"Narc," she said.

"I just won't," said Esther. "What do you do, by the way? Do you have a job?"

"Oh, I'm a photographer," said Sally. "Work's dried up a bit since leaving London, though, and since selling my car."

"What do you photograph?"

"Ghosts, and the paranormal, in an ideal world," said Sally. "But this isn't an ideal world, so I do a lot of weddings. Which is a lot harder now I live in the middle of nowhere without a car."

"Did you have to sell yours?"

"Yes, I had debts," said Sally. "When I said I 'broke up' with someone, what I meant was, we cancelled the wedding at short notice. Lots of angry vendors needed paying because we cut it too close - and Larry… Well, I won't get into it. But it's done now and I'm debt-free. And also, car-free. Swings and roundabouts."

"Excuse me?" said Esther. "Roundabouts?"

"I gained as much as I lost, it means," said Sally.

"You were jilted at the altar?"

"No, it was mutual," she said. "Although, if anybody jilted anyone, I suppose it was me who jilted him… But, you know, mutually."

"Uh-huh."

"Anyway, it's fine. I'm fine. Already making new friends up here – if Clara counts as a friend given that I think she might fancy me."

"She does, but I don't," said Esther. "We can be friends." She hoped they could, at least; she'd spent most of her life being terrible at making and keeping friends for reasons she didn't understand.

"I think friends are exactly what I need right now," said Sally. "That would be nice."

Yeah, thought Esther. It would be.

Rewritten May 2024

926: Another Girl Another Planet XII

Ravenwood

"Do you think she'll be alright?" Clara asked, walking in step with Jenny on the winding path away from the village and into the moors. They'd wrapped up dinner very quickly after bringing through Esther's belongings, complete with a duvet and pillows taken from the bed in her now-empty guest bedroom – and, at Jenny's insistence, a jar of peanut butter and a bunch of bananas.

"She's a grown woman," said Jenny. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

"A meat grinder though, Jen. It's diabolical."

"She's ex-Torchwood, I'm sure she's seen things before."

"That's not the vibe I get."

"Vibe?"

"It sounds like she just did desk work and IT for the CIA for years, and then got pulled into the Miracle," said Clara. "So, that goes on for two months, she gets shot and bleeds out, and then wakes up and spends the next six months trying to find Jack or being held captive in the Tower of London. That's a lot of acute stress to put on someone." Jenny didn't speak, so Clara went on. "If the stress actually ends, she might not cope with it all."

"She'll have had plenty of time to come to terms with it all at UNIT. They were giving her three square meals a day, at least," said Jenny.

"I worry, that's all."

"You always worry. I think you're projecting some concerns about yourself, though," said Jenny. Clara slowed for a moment, thinking, and then sighed.

"You might be right."

"Do you think you're not going to be able to cope with it all?"

"I'm already not coping. What happens when I get home? You died right there, in the front room. And if I can't stay here, where can I stay?" said Clara.

"You'll be okay," said Jenny. "And so will Esther. Come on; we'll face it together." Jenny took her hand and led the way to the cottage, up the hill and to the front door of the shepherd's hut. She unlocked it with her own set of keys and switched on the lights.

As Thirteen had promised, it was all clean. Clara could still smell blood and death in the air, but she couldn't see a trace of it where Jenny had died on the kitchen lino two evenings ago. On the wall by the door was a burglar alarm, presumably the hub of this new security system, and there was a small stack of paper left on the dining table. Clara approached and picked the stack up.

"It's instructions," she said. "It says the house has been integrated with Helix. That's your AI, right?"

"Not technically – Helix isn't sentient," said Jenny. "But yes."

For the next five minutes, Clara followed the instructions – which she assumed had been written by Adam Mitchell given that they were clear and easy to follow – and armed the system, showing Jenny the eight-digit code that needed to be punched in to switch it off. It took Clara until she dropped the papers back down on the table to realise that Jenny hadn't said anything else, nor had she come into the cottage any further.

"Are you alright?" asked Clara, who'd been prattling on the whole time without noticing that Jenny wasn't responding.

Jenny still said nothing, but she narrowed her eyes at Clara and Clara froze on the spot. Hands behind her back, Jenny approached. One step after the other. Clara didn't move an inch.

"You fancy her, then?" said Jenny when she was right in front of her. There was barely any space between them, but Jenny didn't close the gap. The air sizzled. Clara listened to Jenny's breathing and double heartbeat; it was rhythmic and calm.

"Not as much as I fancy you," Clara whispered, leaning on the table and gripping its edge. "And I'm not the one who was offering to buy her drugs." Jenny smiled a little, leaning towards Clara, whose lips were parted and waiting. But she continued to savour the moment, rather than give Clara any release.

"It makes me a bit jealous," Jenny breathed. "You, spending all that time on her."

"Is that good or bad?"

"What do you think?"

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Just a bit."

Quiet again. Clara was usually a lot smoother than that, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Jenny emanated warmth and all manner of delicious smells floated around her; fish and chips, raspberry conditioner, the coffee they'd had earlier. Clara drank all of this in, but then became aware of her fangs in her mouth, sharp and cumbersome.

"I don't want to hurt you," she said, the same thing she'd said last night.

"You don't have it in you to hurt me," said Jenny, brushing her nose against Clara's. Finally, Jenny kissed her. Gently at first, as chaste as all their kisses had been so far post-vampirism. But not only had they not slept together since it happened, they hadn't done all sorts of much simpler things, either. In that instant, Clara couldn't remember why.

Jenny stopped, only for a moment, testing the waters. Their lips were still touching, just about, as Jenny waited to see whether Clara would put an end to things. She didn't. Clara put a hand on Jenny's cheek and pulled her back in, fingers in her hair as they melted into each other. Before long, Jenny was pressed against her completely, the two of them fitting together like jigsaw pieces. Clara worried that she might fall against the table, but instead, Clara – while trying to wrap her arms around Jenny tightly and pull her in even deeper, accidentally shoved the table backwards and lost her balance. Jenny caught her and laughed.

"Table's a death trap…" Clara mumbled.

"Let's go downstairs, then," said Jenny. "Before it causes any more bother."

"Are you sure?" asked Clara, one last time.

"Clara," said Jenny, meeting her eyes. "I want you. I need you. And it has to be now, or I'm going to die on the spot and regenerate for a fourth time."

"Don't joke about that so soon," said Clara, though Jenny was entitled to make jokes about her own regenerations.

"I'm serious," said Jenny. "Let's go." Clara believed her and could no longer resist when Jenny kissed her again, trailing her lips all the way down Clara's neck and across her throat.

For the hundredth time in her life, she pushed all her worries out of her head and let Jenny carry her away – let her send Clara's head spinning as she was pleasured so thoroughly that she must have entered another plane of existence. Hopefully, she made Jenny feel the same way, conscious as she was of her cold skin, abnormal strength, and razor-sharp teeth. Jenny certainly didn't stop, which was a good sign. She even liberated Clara by – for once – taking control herself.

"You should boss me around more often," said Clara, breathing deeply, collapsing on the bed over an hour later.

"But you're so good at being bossy, I'd rather let you do it," said Jenny, pawing around in a cardboard box on the floor next to her. The cabinets at Clara's old flat were the landlord's and she hadn't got a chance to buy her own yet. Jenny found what she was looking for: a Drumstick. She peeled off the wrapper and popped it into her mouth as Clara watched her. "What?"

"Nothing, just, er… thinking about your tongue, and what you were doing with it earlier." Jenny smiled at her.

"That's where you being cold is a benefit."

"How do you mean?"

"It just gets very hot down there usually. If you're cold now, I can keep going for longer," said Jenny.

"Maybe," said Clara.

"What?"

"Does it not feel like you're shagging a dead body?"

"Dead bodies don't tend to orgasm, so, no," said Jenny. "Silurians are cold-blooded, too, and you don't hear Jenny Flint complaining."

"I've heard all sorts of things I've never wanted to from Jenny Flint, thanks. You know I stayed with them for a few days after the Doctor regenerated last."

"I didn't. Are they noisy?"

"Very much so." Jenny laughed at that.

"Well, a bit of noise is good. And here we are, all alone, in this tiny cottage, in the cellar. Nobody to hear us for miles."

"You're saying I could murder you here, and nobody would find out?" said Clara.

"I'm just pointing out that we're neither in your block of flats nor on my TARDIS. No neighbours. Nobody with superhearing."

"I've got superhearing," said Clara. "I could hear all your tiny moans I couldn't before."

"Because I was trying to be quiet before," said Jenny. "I'm gonna stop trying to be quiet. Especially when you next return the favour and go down on me." At that, Clara frowned and propped herself up on her elbows.

"Jenny," she began seriously. "Are you trying to imply that I don't go down on you enough? Because I dispute that."

"I'm joking. I know it's your whole thing."

"My whole thing?"

"Yeah."

"My whole thing is eating pussy?" said Clara, and Jenny made a face. "What?"

"You sound like Oswin when you say things like that, that's all."

"But you fancy Oswin, so, isn't that good?" said Clara with a smirk. Jenny looked at her and then scoffed. Clara reached up and brushed her fingers through Jenny's hair, which was terribly messy by now. "All you have to do is tell me what you want, and I'll do it. I'll eat you out for hours. I'll do it right now." There was a pause. Jenny studied her.

"Would you?" she asked.

"Mmhm."

"Aren't you tired?"

"Not that tired. Are you?"

"No."

"Well, then," said Clara. Silence. She could hear Jenny's hearts beat faster, though. Taking the implicit invitation, Clara pulled back the duvet that Jenny had covered them with when they thought they were done, revealing her.

She waited for Jenny to stop her, Clara kissing all the way up the inside of her thigh as she repositioned herself, pulling Jenny nearer by her hips. But Jenny never did stop her, so their session soon got even longer, despite the break. Clara wasn't going to let anybody slander her where cunnilingus was concerned, even Jenny, and even in private. And there was no better place for her mouth to go than between Jenny's legs as she shivered and squirmed for twenty glorious minutes.

"Do I still remind you of Oswin when I'm down there?" Clara whispered when she had teased out two climaxes in record time. She pushed herself up so that she was on top of Jenny completely, grinning at her. "Or am I more like her up here?"

"Neither. Her breath's never this bad," said Jenny. Clara smiled, then kissed her deeply, bad breath be damned. But then she gave in and resolved to leave Jenny alone, flopping back down next to her.

"Now I'm tired," said Clara.

"I'm not surprised. Do you still get cigarette cravings afterwards?"

"No. I haven't craved them at all, even though I can smell them on your TARDIS," said Clara as she wrapped her arms around one of the pillows. "One of the benefits of being a vampire, I suppose."

"Do you need me tomorrow, by the way?"

"I think I always need you. But what do you mean? I'm supposed to be working, actually."

"I'm gonna go look into this situation with the Cargills," said Jenny, resolute. Clara frowned.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, it's alright. Might have to go to space, and I'm not sure how well vampires do in space, with all the radiation, if you burn in the sun," said Jenny. "Maybe you should get Oswin to run some tests about that?"

"And then I can describe to her, in great detail, what you look like naked," said Clara. Jenny opened her mouth to argue, but Clara interrupted her. "I won't go to space with you, then. But be careful, won't you? And come back for dinner afterwards."

"Always," said Jenny, curling up next to her, even though Clara was more interested in spooning the pillow. But under the sheets they'd pulled back up, Clara's hand snuck over, taking Jenny's and squeezing. "Actually, I want your thoughts on something, while you're still awake."

"Of course," said Clara.

"Should I apologise to Jack? Try to patch things up with him?"

"Yes," said Clara immediately.

"Really?"

"Definitely. If you two forgive each other, then maybe this toxicity can be done with," she went on. "And what's the point in holding a grudge against him when you've got me now?"

"Hm…"

"I know it's hard. But you must want to put it behind you, or you wouldn't have brought it up," Clara pointed out.

"I'll see how much he annoys me when I next see him."

"Jen," said Clara softly. "Do yourself the favour and set yourself free." Jenny only huffed, but Clara thought she'd made her decision. Regardless, she was exhausted, even with the sunrise still hours away.

"I'm gonna make some glasses," said Jenny when Clara was hardly listening.

"Uh-huh."

"I miss having night vision. I can't see anything down here."

"That's nice," said Clara through a yawn, closing her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," said Jenny. "I hope you have lots of wonderful dreams about Sally Sparrow agreeing to go out with you since she definitely isn't going to do it in real life."

"Ouch," said Clara. "I'll do my best. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Clara."

DAY 127

Rewritten May 2024

927: Lone Wanderer

Jenny

She left Clara a note in the morning on her way out of the cottage. After a much-needed shower, she made a flask of coffee for Clara to take to work and scribbled on her note an apology for disappearing, as well as an offer of dinner, signed not with her name, but with a doodle of two hearts. She folded the page up and left it on the pillow that Clara wasn't cradling for her to find when she woke up.

She took out her keys, emergency teleporter attached, and headed back to the TARDIS, which had long since left Hollowmire. At about six in the morning, Oswin's lab was empty. That was good because she needed to use Oswin's equipment without getting too many difficult questions. First on the agenda were the glasses she wanted. They needed to replicate all the benefits her robot eyes had had now that she'd lost them, and with the benefit of the telepathic field, it didn't take long for her to put together some rough designs and leave the TARDIS to fabricate prototypes for her.

Second, she needed the use the computers. Buried in Oswin's lab were piles of discarded gadgets and a tablet computer from the late fifth millennium, exactly the period Jenny needed so that she might conduct research. It was retro by Oswin's standards, so Jenny wasn't sure why she had it at all, but it would do.

All the records she could easily access through the Homeworld Alliance systems with her old credentials – which apparently had not been disabled despite the fact that, as the files attested, she was wanted for trial in an interstellar court for war crimes – supported what Ashildr had said. The disgraced Major Young had deserted the Alliance in its hour of need after ordering a full-frontal assault on a well-defended base, with Cargill's name at the top of all the testimonies filed as evidence. They were all redacted, but he was there. She wasn't sure what records she was looking for, though – what would clear her name. Should she take the TARDIS and get video proof that somebody else had made the order? No. She couldn't cross into her own timeline, even for this.

Eventually, Jenny resolved that to make any headway, she needed a cup of tea and a real breakfast – and maybe Oswin's help to dig through the records in greater detail, though Oswin was stretched very thin at the moment.

Taking the tablet with her, she said a brief hello to Nios, on charge in the console room, before finding that Nerve Centre was occupied, even at that early hour. Thirteen was there, keeping a close eye on whatever she had in the oven, as were Jack, River, and Nine. The holobox television was not switched on, thankfully; it gave Jenny a headache.

"How was Esther, then?" Jack asked her, flipping through stacks of printed-out documents. Research into Esther's resurrection, Jenny assumed. "She's really gone?"

"Yes. She seemed happy enough about it last night," Jenny told him.

"What happened to Esther?" asked River, interrupting her own conversation with Nine.

"She saw somebody jump into a meat grinder yesterday, and has subsequently decided to leave," said Jenny. "Now, she's moved in with Sally Sparrow, in the village."

"Which village?" asked Nine.

"Hollowmire."

"Never heard of it."

"It's where Clara lives, my Clara."

"Typical," said Nine. "In and out and I didn't even get to meet her – despite you going on about her." Initially, Jenny didn't know who he was talking to.

"I try to keep things to myself," said Thirteen.

"Sorry," said Nine, backpedalling and talking to Jenny. "Did you say a meat grinder?"

"Long story," said Jack. "You won't like the ending. But it seems odd to me that Sally Sparrow coincidentally lives in the same village as your new girlfriend."

"I'm not the one who found her the cottage," said Jenny, casting a glance at Thirteen, who acted oblivious, as always. "Esther'll be alright, but I need to talk to you about something."

"To me?" said Jack. He crossed his arms. "You haven't wanted to talk to me since… well, have you ever?"

"Ha, ha. My ex-husband, the stand-up comedian," said Jenny dryly.

"By all means, talk," said Jack. Jenny thought, though, and then looked at River. River was from roughly the same time period, too. And she'd been in New York the day before last.

"What do either of you know about Austin Cargill?" she asked, looking between them.

"All sorts of things," said River.

"Cargill, you said?" said Jack. "Both of them? Him and his wife?"

"Not interested in the wife," said Jenny.

"That'll be a first," said River. Jenny glared at her. River sighed. "He's a nasty piece of work. Mercenary, scavenger, bounty hunter, criminal."

"He and his wife are both ex-Time Agents," said Jack.

Jenny nodded and then decided to tell them the truth. "It seems that Austin Cargill is trying to frame me for ordering the Polaris Death Charge in 4881, and now I'm a wanted war criminal. An assassin murdered me over it, that's what happened this week."

"The biggest military defeat in Alliance history?" said River. "A million of their own soldiers dead in a suicide mission to storm a Nomatee installation?"

"Yes, that one," said Jenny. "I was there, but I left – briefly – to deal with a sanitation issue. The toilets weren't working. When I got back, this had been ordered. I deserted and saved a few hundred people in the process, but I suppose my disappearance was all he needed to scapegoat me. But he was there."

"Toilet troubles at the eleventh hour?" said Jack. "Sounds like sabotage." It did. Jenny had never looked at it that way before.

"You were in the Homeworld Alliance?" asked Nine.

"Yes," said Jenny.

"Why?" he said. She didn't even bother to answer, only moved on.

"I need to clear my name, is the thing," said Jenny. "But I haven't been able to find any evidence. There's probably no real paper trail, and I would imagine most of the soldiers who could have corroborated who gave the order died in the charge."

"Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die, into the valley of death, rode the six hundred," said Thirteen, eyes still on her oven.

"Exactly," said Jenny. "I don't want my name going down in history alongside the likes of Lord Cardigan and Earl Haig for making a catastrophic, needless military blunder that ended in a bona fide genocide." She addressed this at Thirteen, but the Doctor remained largely unfazed. She smiled back at Jenny, serene as ever, and picked up a mixing bowl from the countertop.

"I'm baking a carrot cake; do you want the batter?" she held it out. Jenny was hungry enough, so she relented and took it, picking up the spatula [1] to lick it clean while she contemplated her alleged crimes against humanity.

"Do you know where Cargill is?" asked Jenny.

"Right now? No."

"Are you lying?"

"Not sure."

"Hm. I don't think I trust you."

"I'd be surprised if you did, Blue." Jenny gave up; Thirteen was a brick wall when she wanted to be.

She sat down at the breakfast bar, cradling her bowl of cake batter, and went back to her tablet, revisiting old documents now she had some sugar to be getting on with. Tedium won out, and she decided to go through the Deftan Outpost's full staff roster person by person to see if any of the names stuck out to her as someone who might know something. The first few she stumbled upon she searched in the Alliance records and found had all been killed in action on Deftan, devastatingly.

But the fourth name was her white whale. Corporal Aldo Koltn, personal aid to Major Austin Cargill, dishonourably discharged from the Homeworld Alliance on the 23rd of August, 4881, a week after the Death Charge. It was just her luck that there was a detailed military warrant out for Koltn's arrest for smuggling contraband medical supplies in deep space – specifically, he was thought to be operating out of the known smugglers' den of Zeniph Nega. If he had information about Cargill, Jenny was sure she'd be able to simply buy it. Koltn was that kind of man.

"Found something?" asked River. Jenny hadn't noticed that she'd gotten so distracted by Kolton's file that she'd been sitting with the plastic spatula in her mouth for a few minutes. She dropped it back into the bowl.

"Smuggler on Zeniph Nega might know something," said Jenny. "He's wanted by the Alliance, but they'll never go there. I, on the other hand, won't have any trouble at all."

Rewritten May 2024

932: Spooky Hollow

Esther

The day had passed slowly. The house was quiet, and she'd slept well enough considering that the image of the meat grinder still hadn't left her. Since she'd gotten up that morning it had been raining and she'd had nothing to do. She couldn't go out and explore the village, nor was there much to eat or drink. She'd just watched television and been glued to her phone, still trying to catch up on what news she'd missed while she'd been graveside.

By the afternoon, Sally Sparrow had emerged from the attic and joined her, changing channels aimlessly in between trying to send emails on her MacBook. She didn't listen to Esther insisting that Macs weren't good computers, but otherwise, it was pleasant enough. Esther was getting increasingly agitated by the lack of communication from the TARDIS, though. Only Adam Mitchell had sent her a message, saying he'd have her papers and job ready by that evening.

"Are you sure there's nothing to eat?" Esther asked as the evening drew on. All she'd seen Sally eat that day were more biscuits.

"I told you, there are some tins of beans and tomato soup," said Sally, on the sofa while Esther remained curled up in the armchair. "Other than that, no, sorry. I've got no money to buy anything."

"Didn't you say you sold your car?"

"Yeah, but I had credit card debts that were piling up," she said with a sigh. "And then they got even worse when the wedding was cancelled too close to warrant any refunds, and some of the vendors even demanded cancellation fees… I had negative money, but now I have zero money."

"I guess that's better," said Esther. It was a sad situation, but she was starving. Maybe Adam would loan her some cash if she asked? Or Jack, from one of his ancient bank accounts? "I guess there's nothing else on TV other than this, either?"

"Not a fan of A Place in the Sun?" said Sally.

"All they watch on the TARDIS is stuff like this," said Esther.

"Yes, but that's odd because they live in a spaceship that can go anywhere in the universe. I live in a house, and I don't have a job right now, this TV doesn't connect to the internet, and it only has Freeview. I've nothing else to do."

"So, you just do this? Every day?" asked Esther.

She sighed. "I try not to. I don't like it, either. The rain's too bad to go for a walk, though, and again, I don't have a car anymore to drive somewhere else." The rain picked up when she said that, hammering against the windows and rattling them. "I'll see what else is on, though." She picked up the remote. "We can watch… From Russia with Love, Four in a Bed, the weekend Hollyoaks omnibus, Marple-"

"Marple? I'll watch that," said Esther.

"Really?" said Sally.

"Sure, I used to watch it back home on PBS," she said. Sally acquiesced and changed the channel to Miss Marple halfway through solving 4.50 from Paddington. "You know, they made an anime of this."

"Pardon?"

"There were a bunch, adapting Poirot and Miss Marple. They love this stuff in Japan. Look up the copyright disputes between Lupin: The Third and Maurice Leblanc's estate about Arsène Lupin," said Esther.

"Erm… I'll take your word for it," said Sally. "Thank God Cadfael isn't on today. All week, it's been non-stop Cadfael."

"What's that?"

"So, there's this monk in the twelfth century, and he solves crimes," Sally began to explain the premise but was interrupted by the sound of the TARDIS. It took Sally a moment to notice it, absorbed as she was in circus hijinks and monastic detectives, but Esther heard immediately.

She got up to peel open the curtains Sally had been insisting stayed closed, seeing the ship materialise down the street. She watched, not wanting to go out in the rain because it wouldn't react well with her electrokinesis, but nobody got out.

"What's going on?" asked Sally, staring at the popcorn ceiling.

"It's just sitting there, the ship, it-" She audibly gasped, a hand going to her mouth, when a bright blue Mini Cooper shimmered into existence on the sidewalk, next to the TARDIS. "That's my car!"

"Car?" said Sally, managing to get up from the sofa – which she made look very difficult. Esther rushed to open the front door as Jenny disembarked the TARDIS, a cardboard box in her arms. To Esther's great surprise, Jack followed her out.

"Got your stuff," said Jenny. "Car included."

"I didn't know you saved my car," Esther said to Jack.

"Hope it's a nice surprise," said Jack. "Changed the plates for you and had Adam register it."

"Where do you want these boxes?" said Jenny. "There are a lot."

"Oh, er-"

"Kitchen's fine," said Sally. She was barely paying attention, looking out of the open door and up at the sky and squinting at the clouds. After setting down her box, Jenny noticed this on her way back out of the house.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Hm?" said Sally, not listening.

"I said, are you okay?" Jenny repeated.

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm just going to go find some biscuits."

She went rifling around in the cupboards while Jack and Jenny brought in many, many cardboard boxes, all piled high with trinkets Esther had collected and left behind in her rented apartment in Georgetown.

"What are those?" Esther asked when Sally found a pack of something hidden away somewhere.

"Digestives," she said.

"That's a bad name."

"Do you want one? They're malty," said Sally, holding the packet towards her while Jack and Jenny continued their task. Gingerly, Esther removed one and bit into it. It was fine.

"Kind of bland."

"They're best when you dunk them in tea," said Sally.

"I only really like iced tea – or green tea," said Esther.

"We'll fix that." Esther didn't think it needed to be fixed, but she couldn't be bothered arguing. She finished her cookie as the boxes piled up in the kitchen, layering the table, the countertops, and two of the chairs.

"Who packed up all this stuff? Did you do it?" Esther asked Jack.

"No, no. Hired movers years ago and they took it all far away to a storage unit in Appalachia. Nobody goes to Appalachia, it's the perfect hiding spot for Torchwood relics."

"Well, that's not true; I went to summer camp in West Virginia at least three times, just outside of Flatwoods. People go there all the time."

"I didn't mean literally," said Jack.

"Oh, right."

"Did you ever see the Flatwoods Monster?" asked Sally, lurking near the fridge, now she'd been boxed in.

"In the nineties?" said Esther. "No. And I'm pretty sure that was just a bird."

"That's what they want you to think," said Sally.

"I think that's everything," said Jack, setting another box down. "You're lucky I didn't throw my back out; I'm getting old, you know." Esther laughed.

"There's one more thing," said Jenny. "Give me a hand." They left again and returned one last time, carrying a large, cone-shaped device together. Esther recognised it from Tesla's schematics, and they carried it all the way upstairs to her empty bedroom for her.

"What is that thing?" asked Sally, staring at it.

"A work of genius," said Jack. "But don't tell Oswin I said that – I think she's jealous."

"Tesla designed it for me," said Esther. "We went to see him – he called it a 'syphon'."

"Tesla? Nikola Tesla?" said Sally, in awe. "What does it do, though?"

"It's meant to passively absorb Esther's excess electrical charge and then distribute it wirelessly," said Jenny.

"Makes her safer to be around, and cuts down on your electric bill," said Jack. "It'll just feed everything in the house – maybe even the whole street – on its own."

"Oswin put some spare pairs of gloves in one of those boxes, too," said Jenny. "Not sure which one."

"And here," said Jack, taking a bulky manila envelope from the inside of his coat and handing it to her. "All the documents you need, as well as details on whatever this job he's found for you is. And some cash, too, from one of my accounts. I won't miss it."

"Cash?" said Sally. "How much?"

"Enough."

"I'm only asking because we don't have any food. Other than these biscuits."

"Thanks for this," said Esther.

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" said Jack, giving Sally Sparrow a look Esther didn't quite understand.

"It's fine. It's quiet. And I only have one person to deal with when I'm trying to use the kitchen, instead of a dozen all asking me questions about my peanut butter and making faces," said Esther. "So far, Sally doesn't mind about the peanut butter."

"Why would I mind about peanut butter?" said Sally.

"I don't know! Everybody else did."

"Look, you seem fine with me smoking weed upstairs, so I really don't care what you do with your peanut butter," said Sally. At that, Jenny clicked her fingers and withdrew from the back pocket of her jeans a little, vacuum-packed parcel made of tinfoil.

"Here you are, as promised," Jenny gave it to her. Sally took it and stared, lost for words.

"Er… I thought you were kidding."

"No, I was in a smugglers' den today in deep space. There's a whole industry there; they grow it locally on this starship hulk retrofitted to be a hydroponics lab," Jenny explained. "Don't ask me why I know that, because I won't tell you."

"Well, thank you," said Sally.

"I'd better be heading off," Jenny went on. "I'm expected for dinner."

"I should go, too," said Jack. "Unless you want me to stay?" He was talking to Esther, but Esther suspected he was really talking to Sally.

"That's okay. I think I'd rather unpack it all myself."

"If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask," said Jack. "And don't ask the others, ask me – I'm the best."

"Best at what?" asked Sally.

Jack ignored her and finished saying goodbye to Esther, which again, felt uncomfortable to her. He left in the TARDIS while Jenny, having delivered her illegal substances and Esther's most prized possessions, headed off to find Clara Ravenwood. She declined Sally's offer of an umbrella.

"She'll get soaked," said Esther, watching her go.

"It's not so bad," said Sally. "I like the rain. I'm sure you'll get used to it."

"It rains a lot in D.C., too," said Esther. "But it's warmer there. Not freezing."

"Maybe," said Sally. Esther thought about saying no, not maybe, it was true, she had the data committed to memory – but she didn't. Sally cleared her throat, still holding her cookies and her silver parcel of marijuana. "What's in your boxes, then?"

"My whole life, I guess," said Esther, looking around. It was a daunting task, all this unpacking. "Do you have a box cutter?"

"No. I think there are scissors in that drawer, though," said Sally, pointing it out. Esther found the scissors and used them to cut through the tape on the nearest box.

"Just clothes," she said, disappointed when she pulled it open. "I don't have anywhere to put clothes. I don't have a wardrobe."

"Ask Jenny to bring you one from the TARDIS," said Sally.

"I can't keep taking stuff from them. Do you have Ikea in this country?"

"Yes."

"I'll go there, then." Esther opened another box. Clothes again. Half a dozen of the boxes just contained her old clothes and all of them she stacked off to the side. Finally, though, she found something good. "My PC!"

"But do you have a desk?" said Sally, peering into the box. They'd both forgotten that in the next room, Miss Marple had a murder to solve.

"I'll add that to my Ikea list. Maybe I'll go tomorrow. Is it far?"

"Half an hour drive, maybe?" said Sally.

"I'll do that, then."

"Do you need some help?"

"Excuse me?"

"Carrying things," said Sally.

"…You want to come to Ikea with me, you mean?"

"If you're asking."

"I didn't ask. But, sure, that's fine."

The next few boxes contained an array of treasures. First was her very expensive coffee machine, which she was glad had survived her time as a fugitive. Sally was also excited about this, and Esther set it down on the countertop. For the first time since the Miracle, she'd be able to make her morning coffees exactly the way she liked them.

After that, she found the box her consoles had been shoved into. Her PS3 rested on the bottom – it was the fat, 60GB launch model, the backwards-compatible version that was truly worth its weight in gold. The cables and wires were tangled on top, squashed by stacks of games and some of her other, treasured devices. A turquoise DS Lite, an Atomic Purple Game Boy Color, and the GameCube's orange variant. No wonder Jack had complained that the boxes were heavy.

"I don't know what any of that stuff is," said Sally.

"It's stuff I'm not gonna touch until I find the insulating gloves, that's what," said Esther. "Don't want to accidentally fry all the circuitry."

"You didn't say you were a gamer yesterday," said Sally.

"It's private stuff," said Esther. "I don't want people to make fun of me."

"Oh. Does that happen a lot?" asked Sally.

"I guess. I don't usually understand what they mean, though," said Esther with a shrug. "I'll keep it all in my room, don't worry."

"No, you… You can use the big telly if you want. I don't mind."

"Are you sure? Because don't say that and then change your mind later and complain I'm using the TV too much," said Esther.

"Okay," Sally nodded. "I promise not to do that. Use the TV all you like. I've always got my laptop if I need to watch property shows and Cadfael that desperately." Esther wasn't sure if she believed Sally about not complaining, but she moved on from the gaming box at any rate.

The next one was even more personal, though. She cut it open and was greeted by the shiny, plastic wrappers of her comic book collection. Jack really had saved everything. Overjoyed, she pulled out the stacks and flipped through them. They had been tossed into the box haphazardly and were no longer in chronological order as she liked them to be, but that would be easy enough to fix.

"This is amazing! I thought I'd never see these again!"

"What is it?" asked Sally. "Comic books?"

"Yes! This is a complete Blue Beetle collection, all three, all the way back to Dan Garrett. You see this?" She held up her prized copy of Mystery Men Comics #1. "This is from 1939. I got it for a steal in 2008, only a thousand dollars because of the condition. If it was mint, you might get tens of thousands."

"Jesus Christ," Sally stared at it. "But it's just a comic book."

"Okay, so collecting old comic books is odd, but collecting old alcohol is acceptable?" said Esther. "At least I can enjoy comic books without them losing the thing that makes them inherently valuable." Sally thought about this.

"Touché," she admitted. "It's not my whiskey collection, though; it was part of my inheritance."

"You see this one?" said Esther, finding another to show her when Sally didn't immediately tell her to shut up. "This is from 1967, Blue Beetle #1. Ted Kord's first-ever issue. He was the second Beetle, after Dan." To illustrate her point, she held up the other comic again. "But they rebooted it again in 2006, with the third Beetle, Jaime Reyes." And then she held up yet another Blue Beetle #1, Jaime's first solo issue.

"I've never heard of a superhero called Blue Beetle," said Sally.

"That's probably why his runs keep getting cancelled. But I love him. That's why I have every issue he's ever appeared in."

"Why?" asked Sally.

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you love him?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"I…" Sally was at a loss.

"I mean, are you actually interested? People usually aren't. I've learnt that the hard way."

"Yes, I'm actually interested," said Sally.

"Oh. Well, the scarab falls from space and Jaime finds it. It's meant to turn the user into a weapon of mass destruction so that this alien race, the Reach, can take over Earth. But Jaime… he's just too good. But he doesn't think he's good. He thinks that's ordinary, that anybody would put themselves in grave danger to save people they don't know. That's what makes him a hero – that alone lets him override the scarab's programming," Esther explained, looking fondly at the cover of Blue Beetle #22, as Jaime barely escaped when the Bug was pulled into a volcano. "Have you seen Watchmen?"

"Er…"

"You have to have seen it. Everybody saw it." Sally stared at her blankly. "The smiley face with blood, and the guy with the mask. You know."

"Yes. I think so."

"Nite Owl in Watchmen was originally meant to be the second Blue Beetle, Ted, after DC acquired all the characters from Charlton in the eighties," said Esther. "But DC told Alan Moore not to use them because they had plans – plans like this." She drew out 1986's Blue Beetle #1, another Ted Kord run. "That was probably for the best, given what happened to Nite Owl. Anyway," Esther cleared her throat. "Sorry about that. When I get talking, I really can't stop, so I usually try not to start."

"Do people often tell you to stop?" asked Sally. Esther couldn't decipher her expression.

"Oh, sure," said Esther, indifferent.

"Right. Well, I'm not going to. Talk about what you like for as long as you like."

"You say that now-"

"I mean it," said Sally. "Those people sound like they were probably all arseholes."

"Well, thanks," said Esther, again unconvinced. But she dropped it.

Her stomach rumbled, and she remembered there was nothing to eat unless she wanted tomato soup, which she didn't. She picked up the manila envelope Sally had been eyeing the entire time and drew out the cash. There was a thousand pounds from Jack to begin her new life in England.

"I guess I'll order in," said Esther, not up to driving to wherever the nearest store was when she had so much unpacking to arrange. "Is there anything around here that isn't fish and chips?"

"Erm… there's a pizzeria in the village, too," said Sally. "Otherwise, the only other places for food are the pub and the greasy spoon, neither of which deliver. It's probably easier to order from Keighley or Halifax if you want something else."

"And what are the options for 'something else'?"

"Indian or Chinese, basically," said Sally.

"You want me to buy you dinner too, don't you?" said Esther.

"I can pay you back," said Sally quickly. "Not immediately – but I've got some jobs lined up. Weddings, and so on. Just waiting on some emails."

"That's okay," said Esther. "Pizza sounds good. I haven't had a pizza in forever."

"It's pizza in rural England; I'd lower my expectations if I were you," Sally advised.

"As long as it has cheese, I'll be good," said Esther. "Is that alright with you? Pizza?"

"Absolutely. Thanks."

"I guess that means I have to bring you to the store with me if I go tomorrow, too."

"Do you?"

"If I'm buying groceries anyway, I'm not gonna let you starve," said Esther. "Not when you let me move in with you with no notice. I don't think a lot of people would do that."

"I'll pay you back," Sally insisted.

"You don't have to."

"But I will."

"Well… sure. Or – help me build the furniture tomorrow?" said Esther.

"Building furniture together? Are we married already?" said Sally.

"I don't want to marry you," said Esther.

"No, I know, I was kidding," said Sally. "I'll help you."

"Did they tell you I'm asexual? And aromantic?" said Esther.

"Um, no, but I was joking," said Sally. "I'll make a note that you don't like jokes like that, though. And I'm not into women, anyway – especially not women who could electrocute me by accident."

"Good," Esther nodded. "I mean – not good that you're straight, there's nothing wrong with not being straight, obviously-"

"I know what you meant, it's okay," Sally assured her. "Pizza, then?" she prompted when Esther briefly lost herself in thought.

"Yes," Esther nodded. "Pizza."

Esther had thought that by the time she reached her thirties, she'd own a house somewhere, not restarting her life from scratch in a rented house with a roommate in a different country. But as houses, roommates, and countries went, Hollowmire, Sally Sparrow, and England were all miles better than being dead and buried – and better than bearing witness to the TARDIS's daily horror show. She didn't even mind the bad pizza later that evening, because things finally felt like they were settling down.

Rewritten May 2024

933: Another Girl Another Planet XIII

Ravenwood

The only text she'd received from Jenny after the phone call laden with machine guns was a thumbs-up emoji. Clara couldn't say she wasn't surprised that Jenny even knew what emojis were, but hopefully, the thumbs up meant that Jenny had not died again. Still, she was in great danger of chewing through the inside of her cheek, torn up as she was about whether Jenny was alright.

She needn't have worried. She smelt that Jenny was in the cottage before she even opened the door because something meaty was cooking. With the empty flask of coffee Jenny had made her that morning in hand, Clara unlocked the door and stepped inside. Jenny was there to greet her, wearing an apron Clara had never seen before – with hearts on it – and a pair of glasses.

"Hi!" said Jenny. "How was your day? Dinner's nearly ready."

"Erm… Have I just stepped into a parallel universe where this village is full of Stepford Wives?"

"Full of what?" asked Jenny.

"Never mind. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Well…" Clara still didn't know what to say, trying to take off her shoes while being thoroughly distracted by Jenny. "My day was fine, other than worrying about you, after hearing all the gunfire."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I didn't get hurt, though. Today, I've made these glasses, reconciled with Jack, paid the Shadow to go and find Cargill and Ashildr for me, and finished moving Esther in properly. Went and got all her stuff from a lock-up somewhere in West Virginia. There was a lot of it. Now, I'm roasting a rack of lamb and boiling new potatoes," Jenny recapped her day, Clara shoving her shoes into a corner near the door and locking it behind her.

"But you're okay?" said Clara.

"Yes. Completely."

"And you did make up with Jack?"

"Is that so surprising?"

"It's quite surprising, yes. But not as surprising as this housewife thing you're doing."

"I cook for you all the time, but I wear an apron once, and suddenly, I'm a housewife?" said Jenny. Clara smiled at her. "All you want is a housewife, anyway."

Clara stepped towards her and pulled her in by the waist. "You're right. How did you know I like lamb?"

"I didn't, I was making an assumption," Jenny shrugged, looping her arms around Clara's shoulders. "There's some halloumi in the fridge as a backup, but we can have halloumi burgers another night." Clara leant in and kissed her, but it was cut short by Jenny leaving to check on the oven. Clara trailed after her, unable to do anything else.

"Was Esther alright, then?"

"She seems fine," said Jenny, checking a list of timings she'd written on a piece of paper, a roasting dish of vegetables on the hob in front of her. "These should go in now…" She did that, sliding the dish in on the shelf above the lamb, the potatoes still boiling away in a saucepan. "I got Sally her weed, too. Nicked it from a space dealer."

"I'm sure she's thrilled," said Clara. "Maybe you should seduce her."

"Why? To manipulate her into having a threesome? So that you can sleep with her?"

"Precisely," Clara nodded.

"Why do you want to shag her in the first place?" said Jenny, nodding at the table to invite Clara to sit down – after she'd finished rinsing her coffee flask. "I don't think she'd be any good at it, since she seems to be aggressively heterosexual."

"I quite like that," said Clara. "Then I get to teach her what to do."

"I see." Jenny turned her back, pouring two glasses of fruit juice and bringing them over. "Are you, erm…" She cleared her throat.

"Am I what?" asked Clara.

"I mean, if you ever wanted to roleplay something, that's fine," said Jenny. "But I won't let you call me 'Sally Sparrow' no matter how nicely you ask."

"Sure," said Clara, smiling at her again and not trying to hide her fangs like she did with everybody else. "Maybe you can also roleplay as someone who really needs glasses, instead of just pretending."

"Hey! I miss the bells and whistles my robot eyes had," said Jenny. "This is the best of both worlds. But if you really don't like them, maybe I can work on some contact lenses."

"No, no," said Clara quickly. "I like them a lot. Everybody looks better with glasses. Now, if Sally Sparrow wore glasses, then we'd really be in trouble."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're too easy?"

"You're not exactly difficult yourself, Jenny," said Clara. "You basically threw yourself at me."

"And you caught me," said Jenny.

"I suppose I did."

Jenny recapped her day in more detail for Clara while they waited for the lamb to finish. Zeniph Nega, space poker, a stolen diamond, an intergalactically-renowned alien assassin – the romance was intolerable. By the time she was done, the food was ready to be plated up, and Jenny brought over two heaped, steaming plates of lamb, potatoes, and roasted runner beans and cauliflower. She also had a mug of mint sauce.

"Remind me to get you a real gravy boat sometime," said Jenny, pouring the sauce over her plate before doing the same for Clara, not trusting her to perform even this negligible task. This was fair enough, though; unbeknownst to Jenny, Clara had a bad habit of burning herself with gravy.

"This is gorgeous, honestly," said Clara after she'd tucked in. "I don't know how you do it."

"Quite easily," said Jenny. "It's only lamb. And now I'm friends with the butcher here; he's called Darren. He very kindly sold me a rack of lamb even though the shop was closed. He was still in there cleaning."

"Mmhm," said Clara, chewing. "Did he seem odd to you?"

"In what way?"

"I don't know. There's something strange about this place. Have you seen the fountain?"

"Don't think so."

"It's got all these tentacles," said Clara. Jenny frowned. "I'm serious. Keep an eye out for it the next time you're at the butcher's. And they keep giving Dylan stuff from the bakery – cakes and things."

"So?"

"So, they do that, and on the way out, they do a bow and say, 'By the grace of the Great Glowing One.'"

"…Alright, maybe that's a little odd," Jenny admitted. "But if they're just baking cakes, then… Are the cakes poisoned?"

"No, they smell normal. Dylan seems fine. He said they're 'eccentric' and that you get used to it."

"We'll just keep an eye on things, then," said Jenny. "People are entitled to be weird if they're not hurting anyone."

"Did you see there's a roller skating rink in town, too?" Clara continued. "A town this small, and it has a roller disco."

"I used to roller-skate all the time," said Jenny with a sigh. "Maybe I'll get back into it if there's one so close by. I could take Sally."

"She doesn't strike me as the roller-skating type."

"I'll let her speak for herself when I next see her," said Jenny. Clara made a face.

"Stop that. I really do fancy her, and you're not helping."

"I might bake something for them tonight when I'm back on the ship," Jenny said, more to herself.

"Aren't you…?" Clara began. Jenny raised her eyebrows. "I just assumed you were staying the night."

"If you want me to, I will," said Jenny. "But I was going to try and build a case file in my defence, go through old Alliance records some more and find anything I can to clear my name. I need to take all this to the generals one day, otherwise, I'm at risk of a court-martial if I go to the wrong place at the wrong time."

"No, it's… Maybe I should get used to you not being here every night."

"Well, we don't live together," said Jenny. "And I'm not sure we should, after a week and a half. If you need me to come back once I leave, though, just call. I'll come right over."

"Alright," said Clara, feeling a little better about the idea of Jenny not being there with her when she fell asleep. "I wasn't going to suggest that you move in, for the record."

"Of course you weren't," said Jenny, utterly unconvinced. "I'm sure you'd never want me to live with you and cook for you every day. Even when you see what I've made for pudding."

"What have you made for pudding?" Clara asked.

"A big trifle."

"How big?"

Jenny leant towards her and lowered her voice. "Massive," she breathed.

"I suppose I'd better finish this lamb, then," said Clara, fixated on her.

"I suppose you better had. But I won't go for a few hours yet; that leaves plenty of time for eating trifle." They weren't talking about trifle at all.

"Yeah," Clara agreed, now desperate to get through dinner as quickly as possible. "Plenty."