change of pace. long-ish one. is anyone still reading this?
Chapter 24
If I'm right, the girl should appear in a moment. The silk gloves are itching and I can't wait for this to be over to take them off. I sigh, inadvertently blowing a firefly away from my hand. Why can't I master the art of no means no? I should really work on that.
Ok. First. Me and the Doctor, we should stop saying that I'm not going anywhere. Seriously, it's becoming a joke. If I say I'm not going anywhere, I just happen to go somewhere else.
Or not, because after the jump, I was still standing in the Tardis console room.
A very shiny, very contemporary, and very different Tardis console room. Actually, it's not. It's the same, but it's different. Ironic, isn't it?
"Doctor?", I called tentatively, groaning.
"Zooooey, there you are! Good, good, great. Great!", he repeated, dangling down the stairs. He walked closer.
"I was in the middle of a conversation!".
"Nonsense. I need you here".
"You can't just summon me when you're in need! Come on! I just finished telling you I wasn't going anywhere...".
"Of course I call you when I need, I - wait, I, uh, got the wrong you again?", he waved his hands around my face. "Uh, Past Zoe. Sorry. Zoe! Good to see your face again!". He hugged me. The tweed was itching my face. Should have seen it as a warning sing.
"Shut up". I blurted, hugging him back. "How come you got the wrong me again?".
"Aha. You're never the wrong you", he corrected, which, oddly enough, almost made me blush. "Must have been the Tardis. Couldn't find the current you, switched back to the first available".
I groaned. "But I wasn't available! I was just telling you I wasn't going anywhere!".
"Well, technically, you didn't", he joked, then quickly flipped his hair, adding, "Please don't slap me".
"Only because you said please", I sighed, then took a look at his soft, witty eyes. "It's good to see you, Doctor".
"I know!", he said, arms open, ready to hug me again. "Long time no see? Well, actually, no, I just saw you, and you were just talking to me, so-", he gestured, swinging oddly.
"Oh just shut up", I repeated, giggling. "So, what's the emergency?".
"No emergency. I'm going to a wedding and I need a plus one. Well, of course, we have to make the wedding happen first, that's why I really need you".
My head went wrapping around it. "Right. Few more words, maybe?".
I spun around him to look at what he was doing at the console, because he lost himself into calculations. He was tweaking the disguise circuits, and it didn't look well.
"So", I asked. "Are you hiding the Tardis now? Dangerous stuff?". About a wedding?
"See, the thing about fairytales, is they're not really fantasy stuff. Well, most fairies are fantasy, but that's another story. Most fairytales are just very old stories that changed from storyteller to storyteller, based on real facts", he said, quickly turning to me.
A wedding. And fairytales. Wasn't really following.
"Are we fixing a fairytale?", I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes! Yes, we, are, Zoe. And we're bringing in magic".
"What about magic?".
"Magic", he repeated. "Magic is when the storyteller can't explain a thing, or forgets a point, that's when magic is introduced", he explained, twirling around in gestures.
I tilted my head to the side. "Ha. And what sort of magic are we bringing?", I ask.
"Well supposedly, what we need to do is to create some sort of pocket imaginary vision, an alternate universe that totally overlaps with the existing one, in which what you see and feel can peacefully coexist with this one. But I can't seem to align the vectorial maps-".
Like that made it clear.
"...you mean like replacing something with something else?", I asked, not sure.
"Exactly! But I'm having trouble with the calculations, that's why I need you".
I looked at the screens again.
"What's the trigger? Do we need a magic wand?".
"We already got one, rockstar", he turned again to another screen, tossing the sonic screwdriver into my hands without even looking. I catched it, startled. "It already has a psychic link with the Tardis, so if we can have it resonate with the coordinates of the other universe...".
"Ta-dah, I get it. Pumpkin disappears, enter the carriage".
"Exactly". He nodded. "Wait- how? What? Nevermind. Speaking about magic tricks, you better start the engineering, or it won't work".
That was the second ringing bell I missed. I wouldn't be in this mess if I was quicker at thinking.
"I'm not that great with psychic links yet", I warned him,wondering if I wasn't being too optimistic, assuming at some point I will be great at it, and turned to the screens again.
I entered a few quick commands to start the mapping. I tried to study him, puzzled.
There was something weird, a bit... off, about him, but I couldn't properly put my finger on it. He flipped around manic and goofy like he always does, but there was definitely something hidden there. Maybe it's just because I haven't seen this him in a while.
All the calculations to read and map the shape, appearance and presence of the physical objects and living things in the real world are run by a software linked to the sonic screwdriver so that when pointing at anything, all we need to do is command it through the psychic link to replace its appearance and presence with anything else, that the Tardis will feed from her infinite archives.
It wasn't that hard. Except for one thing: I'm still not sure I can use it.
I wondered if that was why the Doctor brought me here. Could the reason he was acting so... strange be that he was pretending to have a problem just to boost my confidence?
Because the truth is, after that weird conversation in my own head, I've been feeling something different.
As hard as I ever tried telepathy, I never got it to work. The first times we tried, the Doctor instructed me to imagine my mind as if it was a physical space, he said it would make it easier to get started, until it becomes a natural, spontaneous thing.
I usually picture it as my atelier in the Tardis, although it looks a lot like my props lab where all this started from. My memories, perceptions and thoughts are all there, neatly organized in binders and folders, ready to browse. A radio transmits music and conversations when I need to recall them. At the desk, there's a laptop, but it's permanently stuck on white noise. I have no way of knowing if it finally sets on the Doctor's image when I hear him when he's not speaking, because it only happened a couple times, and I wasn't even aware of that.
Same thing happens with the laser screwdriver, and the Doctor's sonic. I am unaware of how the link works. It just happens.
That means you already have it in you, to make it work, you know.
As I'm standing at the imaginary desk, staring at the useless imaginary screen, the voice was his voice, clear and sarcastic as I remember it from the days on the Valiant. I turned around to the door, but there's nobody there. There never is.
But since that last headache, and fainting, I feel... can't really describe it properly. It's like the imaginary room is... powering up. I stopped fighting to shut that voice up, and I am owning my own mind again.
Don't say I didn't tell you, child.
The console beeped. "Brilliant!", the Doctor chirped, shaking me out of my thoughts. "You're just stellar!".
"It wasn't that difficult, Doctor", I stated, then abruptly placed myself in his way, stopping him from reaching the console. I smiled. "You didn't need my help to do that, did you? Spill it out".
He flipped the sonic screwdriver in the air, playing. "Er...", he started, catching it again, running a hand through his hair. "That thing about the pumpkin and the carriage, curious that you would think immediately about that one fairytale, because, you see-".
Enlightenment finally reached my face.
Stupid Time Lord quick brains. Never quick enough, am I?
I closed my eyes, shaking, and took a deep breath, dreading, in utter terror that what I just realized was, in fact, what he was trying to talk me into. He must have seen how terrified I was, because he stopped talking.
"Doctor", I said, in the most serious business tone I can express. "There is no universe, alternate, imaginary or parallel, in which I'll let you-".
"Please. You're the only one who can".
"Ask River!" I yelled.
His face turns serious, too. "River is... unavailable at the moment".
Sure she is. Must have better brains that I do. Of course this is left to me to solve. I clenched my fists in frustration. "I swear, you better come up with some other idea, because - cross my hearts - I'm not going to play the bloody Fairy Godmother".
And I must have sounded really convincing, because he was totally fine with it, he apologized and brought me back to the other Doctor. We even made a quick stop for sushi and drinks.
Ugh.
I wish.
When this is over, I'm so going to demand the best dinner in the galaxy.
I hate that I have to do this. It's not just this ridicolously hideous outfit, which consists of a tight bustier with puffy sleeves, stuck into a white, gigantic skirt with something like twenty layers. The top layer is embroidered with the biggest beads and gems I've ever seen, which make this thing weigh like a freighter ship,
And I'm also wearing a cage underneath. Just in case the skirt wasn't really showing its meringue-wedding-cake potential at the fullest.
It looks like a bad replica of something David Bowie would have worn in one of his edgy over-the-top acts. The Doctor didn't want to reveal the exact circumstances in which this mother of all the clothing horrors entered the Tardis wardrobe, and I certainly didn't want to insist.
The other thing is, I'm not usually playing the good fairy queen or whatever because I'm not really good at it. It's just easier for me to be the annoyed, one-liner delivering bitch I'm famous for, and it has always been like this, Time Lady or not. I wonder if that came from him, too.
And this girl, Ella, as I've just recently learned, is genuinely good. A good girl. And I'm always uncomfortable with genuinely good people. Like they stress how positively not-good I am instead.
I hear screaming, nasty laughter, and horses riding away.
I suppose the Evil Stepmother and the Ugly Stepsisters just torn the beautiful handmade gown that Ella was waring into pieces, after building her hopes up.
The sound of the carriage becomes distant, bringing its mocking laughter with it, and all I hear is sobbing.
That's my cue. Curtain.
"Ahem", I approach the girl in rags, who just came out of the backdoor. She looks up, in tears, startled. I waited here for a while thinking about how this dialogue could begin, but then, I mean. Crying girl messed up my hearts. Don't get me started.
She stands up, cleaning up her face, while looking curiously at my weird outfit. Can't blame her. "Ma'am, I'm afraid you missed the carriage for the ball. Are you lost?".
Yeah. Good girl and all. If I were her, humiliated and subdued like a servant in her own house, I'd hate everyone in the higher classes. Not that I ever liked the high class anyway. But she's gentle and nice, and she thinks I'm lost.
"Oh, I'm just as lost as you are, Ella! Don't cry, child!", I say politely, trying to imitate the most theatrical actresses I've worked with. It comes out a bit over the top. Must be the outfit claiming its own character.
"How do you know my name?", she asks, stepping back. I am, after all, a lunatic that just randomly appeared in her backyard with a weird outfit.
"I know you, because I am the Fairy Godmother".
She raises a brow, crossing her arms.
"Don't you mean my Fairy Godmother?".
"Correct", I nod. "I am your Fairy Godmother, and I'm here to help you go to the grand ball. Hopefully".
"Me? To the ball? Thank you, oh! Thank you, Fairy Godmother!", she says, as theatrically and over the top as I did. "You don't sound very convincing", she adds, pouting. I'm actually starting to like this girl.
"Well", I start, "Let's give it a try, shall we?", I say, smiling broadly as I swirl the sonic screwdriver in my hand. I must look insane. "First, let's fix that dress".
I hope it works.
Luckily, it does. When the light from the screwdriver adjusts around her, establishing the perception disguise filter to the dress, she takes a step back, probably dreading I'm going to dress her in a fashion similar to mine, but I instead focus on a very real, very beautiful Alexander McQueen gown that looks amazing on her.
She smiles, thankfully, still unbelieving.
"How did you do that?", she says, incredulous, running her fingers over the fabric, relieving me from worrying I messed something up and that I just destroyed her dress.
"Oh, you know", I wink, "Magic. Now, you'll need a carriage, my lady", I say, searching around in the dark for the biggest pumpkin in the garden. I'm focusing my mind on the Royal carriage, the coach used by Queens and Kings in England, and it turns out just okay.
Materializing the horses scared me a bit, but it worked out fine. The mouses aren't really disappearing, just frozen out of time until midnight. Same as the ducks and the lizard. For the staff, I wave the screwdriver at the animals, picking from my memory to have the Tardis cast Russell Brand as the coach driver - excellent projection, I make a mental note of remembering this trick next time I'm bored, and Charlie Hunnam and Chris Hemsworth as her valets.
She looks at me silently, as everything goes as planned, except it doesn't feel right.
I sigh inwardly, and die inside, because I know what's missing.
Fuck.
I start humming a song - I know, I know, I should be singing. I sigh again and sing actual fake magic spells. I hate myself. She looks at me puzzled.
"Fairy Godmother, I am very grateful, but you don't seem very cheerful about this. I imagined you would be... more positive?", she asks, tentatively.
I smile, cringing. "Yes. Sorry. You're right. You're granted permission to polish the script a bit, shall you tell of these events in the future. Now, the important part: the filt- I mean, the spell only works until midnight". Otherwise, the mouses, the ducks and the lizard will die. And the projections of those celebrities will start developing a mind of their own and bring up troublesome questions.
"Midnight?".
I groan, and bring up the magic soap opera star voice again. "With the last echo of the last bell, at the last stroke of midnight, the spell will be broken and all will return to what it was before".
She looks at me, again, somehow dubious, but she smiles, and jumps to hug me. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!".
She gathers the gown up and gives her hand to fake Charlie to help her to the carriage, when I catch a glimpse of her shoes. Great, Zoe, you almost forgot the most important bit.
"Woah, sorry, not done yet". She stops and turns around. Fake Charlie looks disappointed. I shrug. "Let me do something about those shoes".
This is the Doctor's trick, some kind of 3D almost-instant printer he installed in the sonic screwdriver on his own. I call to my mind some amazing Jimmy Choo pumps and turn them into crystal around her feet.
It's very nice and sparkly to look at, but it's taking a while. Not that instant.
For one long minute, Ella, the hot boys I furnished her set with, and I exchange awkward looks around, until the final spark turns the screwdriver off and it's done. I kinda want to check for myself but I can't bend over my insane dress, so she does the checking.
"You might re-edit this bit in your storytelling too, if you like".
She smiles, thankful.
Overall, I am quite pleased with the result as she enters the carriage, with the help of fake Charlie and fake Chris. She waves smiling at me from the window.
I smile and wave back, until she's out of sight, then I groan.
"Doctor?" I call.
"Zoe!", he says, stepping out of the darkness, waving his tablet around. "You were unbelievable!".
"Sorry", I scratch my head. "Not really the fairy kind of girl. Not getting any Oscars for that performance, I am afraid".
"Well, that went... as it went. But, the transformations! They were spectacular! How did you get that level of detail?".
I stare at him, then lower my gaze to the sonic screwdriver. "Well, I just... thought- I...". I try to recall the mind room, but it still looks the same (with the addiction of a post it note about Charlie Hunnam). Can you hear me, Doctor? my image in my mind asks in the telephone right beside the screen, still stuck on white noise. The screen flickers, but no image comes through.
"Well, so far I only seem able to use psychic powers with...", well, the laser screwdriver, the sonic and the Tardis. Great. "... machinery".
"That's curious. Most Time Lords only reach that level of communication with machinery after years of tedious practice and study".
"Don't patronize me, Doctor".
"I'm serious! It's always been a skill that comes only after you're already used at psychic communication with other people. It's like speaking, for humans. First you learn with your family, then other people, then you learn how to use a computer. But you! You got it the other way around. And fast. Well it's not really surprising, considering-".
I sigh, looking at him again. "Ok. I accept spoilers. Will I ever be any good with this telepathy stuff?".
"But you are! Look at what you just did! You...".
He places his hands on my shoulder, as he always does to stress when he means what he
says. "Oh, Zoe, I didn't remember you were this young. Trust me, you will be so good at this that it sometimes sca- no, can't spoil it all", he corrects himself at the last moment.
I smile, even if I still feel somwthing's up with him.
The feeling doesn't go away when we get to the Tardis, and I yell at him for forcing me to stay in this awful attire (just in case, he said) until we've travelled at the end of the ball in time to see the crystal slipper in the hands of the Prince, who, luckily, is handsome enough to make my projected-early-millennia celebrities shy; then we travel a little further again to see the Prince come over to Ella's house and fit the shoe onto her foot, and then, finally, the Doctor lets me get a costume change for the wedding party, which, technically, we're crashing, because we didn't let them see us.
It all went unusually well, compared to what I've been through lately.
And I mean well, apart from the Doctor's way of dancing, which is hilarious. I have to wonder how does he manage to stand up sometimes. Really, I've seen this very same man be ominous in the face of the enemy, and look at him now. He has no sense of balance -at all.
I let out a giggle and he's stopping in my face, trying to force me into his bizarre choreography. "Calm down, calm down!", I wiggle out of his grasp.
"Come on, Richards, this went well! Time to celebrate! Time to party-y-y!" he says, stretching the last vowel. "Uh, that sounded better in my head". His smile is contagious.
"Yay, let's celebrate!", I mock him, raising my glass of bubbles. He spins around again. He's so handsome in his evening suit, and yet his dancing is so awful- but he looks so happy, I don't know why I should stop him. I join in, my beautiful, soft and delicate silk gown painting circles of color as I spin.
He catches me when the orchestra stops, and we're suddenly inches away.
"Zoe", he starts, but we're interrupted by a tap on my arm.
"It's you, isnt'it?", Ella asks from behind the Doctor's head. He pulls away from the almost hug and smiles at her. "You were the Fairy Godmother, right? I almost believed it was all a dream, oh thank you, thank you!".
She's beaming. I smile awkwardly, nodding. "Yep. No dream, girl. It was all real. Well apart from the hot boys and the carriage", I wink. "Athough to be fair, you should thank my... assistant, he's done most of the, uhm, preparation work". I glance at him.
"Thank you", she says, hugging us both. "Thank you, Fairy Godmother, and thank you, Sir. I will forever be grateful for your help. If you hadn't shown up, I'd still be washing floors and cleaning fireplaces", she says, shy.
"It's been an honor", the Doctor says, taking her hand, bowing.
"It's been lovely to meet you, Ella", I nod. "Congratulations. Be happy. Have fun". Have fun? I'm just saying random words? I'm really not good at this bit - it's the Doctor who does it, usually.
"Oh", Ella says, glancing at us. "Are you leaving already? I won't see you again, my saviours? I guess that's fair, though. I have everything I always wished for, so I won't be needing your help again". She smiles. "Is this what you do all the time, then? Show up and make people's lives better?".
"We try", the Doctor answers, and there's a sadness in his tone now that he just can't hide.
I nod again, patting him on the small of his back. "Make it a good story, Ella, okay? Almost... like a fairytale", I wink.
"It went well, right", I repeat when we're back at the Tardis, taking the jewellery off in front of a mirror in the wardrobe room.
He waltzs in, tossing his top hat into the air. "It did!", he insists.
"Yeah, but see, Doctor, this isn't your style at all, is it? Since when do you search for fairytales to fix? And I'm pretty sure you could have managed my role with a voice interface. She would have probably played the part better".
"Nonsense", he shakes his head, loosening his bow-tie. "Couldn't have done this without you. Besides, I've had that horrible dress laying around for ages!", he winks.
"Ha! So you admit it was a horrible dress!", I pout, throwing my shoes at him.
"Oi! Stop it!". He says, laughing.
"Oh I'm so jealous of River!" I mumble.
"She doesn't do weddings", he says, and I fail to hear the sadness in his voice.
"Exactly!", I groan. "She'd never let you get away with it! Why can't I ever learn something from the way she treats you...".
"River... I'm not going to see her for a while, I think". He's stopped laughing. "In fact, you're going to see her much sooner than me. Who's jealous now. Oh well, I'm just old and lonely".
"Doctor, what's going on?", I turn serious again. "And why are you alone, by the way? Where are Amy and Rory? Or my-future-your-present Zoe? Or Cl-?".
"Chloe never travelled with me, don't be silly". He says, answering the only question I didn't ask. I wanted to ask about Clara, but I'm not sure how old he is now. Maybe he hasn't even met her yet. Did he really-, oh I'm so stupid.
I didn't realize. He didn't bring me here to make me practice engineering and telepathy.
He's older and he's travelling alone, and he just wanted some cheering up and he went searching for something happy and easy, a fairytale to keep his spirits up, and I've been complaining about having been summoned and about the stupid dress all the time. I really wonder why he picked me, considering how lukewarm my spirits were in all this. He just wanted some company, and he missed me, and I didn't even deserve it.
"I'm thick, Doctor". I apologize, and I step closer to him. "I'm sorry".
"It's okay. You don't need to apologize". His eyes are so sad and lonely. I just wish I could comfort him, but I'm pretty sure kissing him now would not be a good idea. Though, I can't help but thinking about how great it was, the time with him back when I was human.
He stops staring at the mirror and turns around. "Whoa girl, shields up! Please! Not when I'm getting undressed!".
He is getting undressed all right. I'm checking him out, too.
"Fine!", he yells, his shirt off, spinning around with his braces dangling from the black evening dress trousers. "If torturing me with your... kinks is your idea of getting a lift back, there. You have it. You win. Give me the ring", he instructs.
He's. Red. His face is completely red.
I giggle. He giggles too. And a weird thing happen. I feel his giggling echo in my mind.
I stop laughing and I become red. "Stop doing that!".
He laughs. "Oh, trust me, I don't even know how I'm doing it".
He's there. In my mind, in my mental workroom, giggling in the screen. I turn around and there's the mental image of what I was thinking about right before, me and him together in the Tardis bedroom with the view on Gallifrey. Spontaneously, I raise my hand and a theatre curtain appears from nowhere. I pull it to cover the scene. Then I spin around and I'm in a restaurant, and a handsome waiter is coming my way with a plate of sushi, napkin on his wrist and all.
"Okay. Sushi stop and then we'll part ways". In the real world, the Doctor draws a gentle kiss on my forehead, then takes a step back. "See, I told you you're going to get very good at this".