Chapter Fifteen: Accusatory Regulations
[Powell Estate]
The Time Lords exchange uneasy glances as the TARDIS materializes. It's only been three days for Rose, but they both know the time has come: the rules need to be laid down today.
Stepping outside, they glance around before deciding to wait by the TARDIS for her.
"Think she'll take it well?" the Alchemist asks quietly, leaning against the ship's side.
The Doctor's response is curt, "She doesn't have a choice. Listen or leave."
Moments later, Rose comes bounding down the stairs, lugging a large rucksack over her shoulder. Her face lights up at the sight of the TARDIS and the Doctor standing in front of it. But her smile falters slightly when the Alchemist steps into view, casually leaning on his shoulder.
"Hello," Rose says, her tone cheerful but a touch guarded, "Been a while."
The Alchemist and the Doctor exchange a glance, each raising an eyebrow.
"Three days is 'A while'?" the Doctor asks dryly.
Rose shrugs, her grin mischievous as she nips at her tongue, "Feels like it to me."
The Doctor nods but doesn't return her smile, instead stepping aside to open the TARDIS door for her. Rose's grin fades a little, her brow furrowing at the lack of a warmer welcome.
[TARDIS Console Room]
The Time Lords guide the TARDIS into the Vortex with a smooth wheeze, the ship barely shuddering.
"I'm just going to drop my stuff in my room!" Rose calls out as she disappears down the corridors.
The Alchemist turns to her husband, "I need to step out for a bit. Won't take long—like I was never gone."
"Where are you going?" he asks, brow furrowing slightly.
She offers a small, knowing smile, "I've got a Queen to visit."
With that, she flickers out of existence.
[Buckingham Palace - Office, 1971]
"Ah, Lady Ally, my dear friend, right on time!" a refined voice calls out as the Time Lady enters.
The Alchemist exhales softly, a hint of weariness in her demeanor, and strides over to sit across from Queen Elizabeth II.
"Do you know why I'm here?" she asks directly, her tone measured but firm.
The Queen's expression remains poised.
"I assume it's in an official capacity," she replies, her words deliberate.
"You assume correctly," the Alchemist confirms, leaning slightly forward, "I know about Torchwood. Shut it down, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth's brows knit together in a frown, "Then you must also know why it must remain operational."
"I know exactly why it must be shut down," the Alchemist counters sharply, "Torchwood wasn't created because of me or my husband. It was established because of a reckless, arrogant young woman—and her vendetta."
The Queen sighs, a flicker of understanding softening her features, "You're not wrong. My great-grandmother loathed her. Has your husband improved?"
"He has," the Alchemist replies, a trace of warmth entering her voice, "Immensely. As for her, she remains as she was—but she is human, not a threat to the monarchy. I will ensure it stays that way."
They hold each other's gaze in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken history hanging between them. Finally, Elizabeth nods.
"Very well. I'll see to it immediately," she opens her red box, retrieving a document.
With practiced efficiency, she drafts a royal declaration to dissolve the Torchwood Institute, signs it, and places it in a separate box to be archived.
The Alchemist allows a smile to surface.
"Now, Lilibet," she says, a teasing lilt in her voice, "I trust you've set aside some macarons for me?"
Elizabeth bursts into hearty laughter, her composed facade replaced by genuine amusement. She presses a discreet button on her desk, summoning her staff. Moments later, tea, scones, and an array of macarons are brought in.
"Of course," the Queen says warmly, "I'd never let you leave without them."
TARDIS Library
The Alchemist reclines on her usual spot on the sofa, poring over ancient records of alternate universes and void theories. Her sharp mind wrestles with the problem: they couldn't have simply slipped from the Vortex into another universe by accident. No, there is a reason, and she will uncover it. She always does.
What unsettles her most is the implication that something they've changed in the past has set this chain of events in motion. She'd felt time rewriting itself for a while, but Jack's fixed-point resonance had masked the initial disturbance. The trail finally settled in 2009—her own timestream, ironically. She can't even investigate directly.
Her working theory involves a void breach that has ricocheted through time, but she has no idea how, when, or even in which universe it came from. Perhaps the parallel universe they came from—being ahead of their own timeline—is connected. But it doesn't make sense. Humans don't have the technology to create dimensional jumpers—let alone devices powerful enough to backfire through time.
Her thoughts are interrupted as the library door slams open, and the familiar voice of Bluette grumbles in her mind.
Rose stands in the doorway, her anger radiating so strongly the Alchemist can smell it from where she sits. Fantastic. The last thing she wants is to deal with the human's dramatics.
Rose strides forward to stand before her sofa, tapping her foot in irritation, clearly attempting to annoy her into paying attention. Amused by the attempt, the Alchemist decides to indulge the girl—for now. After two precise minutes, she speaks, her tone languid as she continues reading a physical copy of The 34th Elite's Research on Universal Time Bouncing.
"May I help you, Rose?"
Rose's scowl deepens, "Did you convince him?"
"Who?" the Time Lady asks, feigning ignorance.
"Mickey. Did you tell him he should stay there?"
"No, Rose," the Alchemist turns a page, still unbothered, "There was no convincing on my part."
"Then why would he go? He wouldn't just leave me like that."
Ah, denial. It clings to Rose like a shroud. Mickey had explained his reasons quite clearly, and the Alchemist couldn't fault him. His grandmother is alive in the parallel universe—a second chance at a relationship he deeply regretted losing in their world. And, though Mickey hadn't said it outright, she suspects he'd also wanted freedom from Rose's controlling grasp.
"He explained his reasons quite clearly," she replies matter-of-factly.
Rose shakes her head, "He wouldn't. He wouldn't just leave me."
"And why's that?" the Alchemist asks, closing her book as Sexy softly shuts the library door.
Whatever is about to happen, it seems the TARDIS has no intention of letting it spill into the corridors.
"Are you dumb or something!? He was my boyfriend! That's why," Rose snaps.
Loud. The Alchemist winces internally. Her Bondmate often chides her for hiding her intellect, but now feels like the perfect time to drop the mask. She is tired—tired of Rose's misplaced anger, tired of the baseless insults, and tired of the girl's lingering infatuation with her Bondmate.
"Is that what humans call it these days?" she asks, her voice laced with subtle disdain as her piercing gaze locks onto Rose.
Rose takes an involuntary step back, startled by the uncharacteristic sharpness in the Time Lady's demeanor and eyes. They appear to be seeing right through her.
"Yeah, he was my boyfriend. Obviously," Rose says, though her confidence wavers.
The Alchemist tilts her head, faux-thoughtful, "Since you find me so inept, allow me to clarify matters in words you might understand."
She places the book atop the pile on the table and leans forward, her tone cold and cutting.
"You are a manipulative, narcissistic human who has been using that young man as a plaything for years. You claim to want a monogamous relationship yet lack the capacity for one. Mickey, on the other hand, was committed to you—at least as much as he could be while believing you were in love with another man."
Rose opens her mouth to retort, but the Alchemist cuts her off.
"Do not interrupt. I despise being interrupted, especially by someone who knows they've been caught. I can smell pheromones and chemical changes, Rose—before, during, and after copulation. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Or did you believe no one would care that you were shagging Jack while stringing Mickey along?"
"That's not true!" Rose cries, her voice trembling.
"It is. You crushed his confidence on purpose because you enjoyed having control over him. When the opportunity arose to reunite with his grandmother—someone he loved dearly—he took it, even if it meant leaving you behind. Can you blame him? You treated him as a 'backup plan'—a safety net in case your infatuation with my Bondmate went nowhere. And it will go nowhere, Rose."
"I..."
"You're still trying to seduce my Bondmate," the Alchemist continues, her voice hardening, "A married man by human standards. My husband. My Bondmate. And let me make this crystal clear: there is no one else for either of us. We are linked in ways you cannot fathom. Your childish attempts to disrupt that are not only futile but deeply irritating."
Rose opens her mouth to retort, but the Time Lady raises her hand, cutting her off.
"Don't interrupt me," her tone brooks no argument, "Do you think I don't know what I'm talking about? I am First Elite of Gallifrey, ranked above six million Time Lords of Elite Status. My intellect and observational skills have been tested and proven for centuries. I was one of the Ten—do you even know what that means? The first Ten Thousand of that Elite. The Ten were weaponized, as you may recall. Called Alpha by ranking number. What number was I, Rose? That should be a very simple question for you."
Rose falters, stepping back, "You... you were the First."
"Correct." The Alchemist's gaze hardens further, "And yet, here you stand, attempting to insult my intelligence. Let me be clear: Mickey chose to stay because he found something you never gave him—freedom. He was done being your 'backup plan.'"
"That's a lie!" Rose shouted, her voice cracking.
"I don't lie, Rose. And I am very, very rarely wrong. You can deny it all you like, but the truth remains: you hurt that young man, and your infatuation with my Bondmate will lead you nowhere. He sees you as a friend, nothing more. If you cannot accept that, then perhaps it's time for you to leave."
"Well, this time you are, so congratulations."
The Alchemist gives her a bland blink, "I'm not, I'm really not. The Doctor has the emotional understanding of a hamster when it comes to almost anyone but me and young children at this point, but I've always been able to read a situation and person in under a second. I'd call it a talent, but it's not."
"You'd just insult him like that? Do you care about him at all!?" Rose goads.
"I'm well aware that you're attempting to manipulate me into a fight right now, Rose Tyler. I can assure you, it doesn't work for me. My mind is too advanced."
Rose glances around, not sure what to do or say.
"Now, word of advice from such a well-regarded individual: drop your little manipulation tactic as well as your interest in my husband and Bondmate because it will lead to nowhere but pain for you. And that's not me threatening physically, by the way.
"You're infatuated with him—nothing more, as I've already said. He sees you as nothing but a friend. Perhaps he should remind you of that," the Alchemist's voice is cold and cutting, "I could easily tell him to leave you behind, and he would listen."
"He... he wouldn't do that to me. He cares about me. You're not even the pilot," Rose spits, her voice trembling with denial.
The Alchemist's eyes narrow, her patience thinning, "We're both pilots of the TARDIS—always have been, ever since we began traveling together hundreds of years ago. We're married. We're Bonded. Equals, in every sense. I've explained this before. All I need to do is tell him I don't want you here, and just like that, you'll be dropped at your doorstep, never to see or hear from either of us again."
Her voice drops to a quiet, menacing tone, "We've been together since we were twenty-five. Do you remember the little heart-shaped dots over your 'i's in your notebook? Do you honestly think he wouldn't listen to the advice of his life partner?"
Rose falters, her confidence crumbling, but the Alchemist presses on, her words dripping with quiet authority, "I could show him this entire conversation, every word we've exchanged if I choose to."
For a long moment, Rose doesn't move, her anger dissipating as doubt creeps in, but the Alchemist's gaze remains unwavering.
She sighs, her tone hardening again, "I've dealt with many companions over the centuries, but you, Rose, you've managed to push things to the point where I have to spell this out for you. I'm offering you two options.
"Option one," she says, voice sharp, "Which I strongly suggest you take: I explain what just happened to the Doctor. You drop your infatuation with my Bondmate. It will get you nowhere, and you'd do well to learn what a healthy relationship looks like before you keep making a fool of yourself.
"Option two: I show the Doctor this entire conversation and tell him we need another companion. Your presence is... deeply upsetting to me, and frankly, I'm tired of tolerating it."
The Alchemist gives a nonchalant shrug, "And this is no idle threat. He knows I'm upset, Rose. He's on his way down here right now, walking through the corridors, planning to check on me in person, not relying on our telepathic bond. I can hear and sense him coming as I speak."
Rose's breath hitches as the reality of the situation begins to sink in. The Alchemist's words are clear and unyielding.
"Consider this your final warning," the Time Lady continues, her voice cold as ice, "Fix yourself and find another path. If you choose to ignore this, I will not hesitate to end your travels with us. Do not test me."
Rose takes a shaky breath, her anger drained, leaving only a heavy, uncomfortable silence. Without another word, she turns and flees from the library.
The Alchemist sighs heavily, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she releases the tension in her body. She picks up her book again, shaking her head in disbelief as she senses the Doctor's approach.
The TARDIS hums softly as it opens the library door, allowing the Doctor to step inside before it closes with a soft whoosh behind him. His face is etched with concern, his steps purposeful.
"What's wrong? You're upset... angry... frustrated," he begins as he takes a seat beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist, "I heard your thoughts flitting through faster than usual. Rose was here, wasn't she?"
The Time Lady sighs, her shoulders sinking as she leans into him, comforted by his presence, "She confronted me about Mickey. She thinks I convinced him to stay in the other universe. I told her off for manipulating him like that—no one deserves to be treated that way."
The Doctor furrows his brow, "What do you mean? That backup thing again?"
With a soft sigh, she places her head on his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent, "She never wanted him traveling with us in the first place. I could smell her jealousy and frustration when he asked. And I didn't even need my enhanced senses for that. Mickey's always wanted a truly monogamous relationship—one where he's loved as deeply as he loves in return. He confided in me that seeing us together made him realize that he and Rose would never work."
The Doctor gently kisses her head, "I'm upset that Rose didn't mention this to me and that she believes this in the first place. You told me about her manipulation of him before—I'd hoped she'd stopped. Mickey, though... I didn't realize how bright and brave he was. I never knew Rose was still hurting him like that. It's upsetting."
"Yeah, she blamed me for it. She's jealous that Mickey came to his own decision and believes I somehow caused him to stay in the other universe. She insisted he wouldn't leave just because he was her boyfriend—while he was well aware of her attraction to you."
"Ugh," the Doctor grimaces, rubbing her back as he pulls her closer, "This is getting ridiculous. Usually, by now, interest in one of us fades away... but this? It's just exhausting. I assume you explained how Bondmates work again."
He gently shifts her onto his lap and guides her to lie down on the couch with him. His body provides a sense of stability and calm. The Alchemist lets herself be repositioned, melting into him as they settle together.
"Of course I did," she murmurs. "But I doubt it'll make her stop anytime soon, if at all. She also called me 'dumb,' and—well, you know how I react when anyone insults my intelligence. I had to explain who The Ten Elite are, which is why you felt my grief earlier."
The Alchemist sighs, her voice tightening as she continues. "She didn't think we were equals when it came to taking on companions. She sees me as beneath you—entirely. It angered me more than I expected. And she seemed to think you wouldn't listen to me if I told you I didn't want her here anymore. It's like she doesn't understand what a healthy relationship is, and frankly, we're already struggling enough as it is."
The Doctor groans in frustration, his hand slowly rubbing her waist and hips, "I'm honestly tempted to drop her off right now. Do you think we should give her another chance? I know you were already bothered by her behavior with Queen Victoria... although, I understand why you were frustrated with me at the time. But after you explained it, I'm glad you took care of that. It was... disturbing."
"Terrifying, actually," she replies, her voice soft, "I just hope it sticks. Maybe a few more trips won't hurt to see if she listens. But if she doesn't drop it after that... I think we should take her home and tell her we won't be in contact again."
The Doctor's voice softens, his breath warm against her ear, "How exactly are you so nice?"
She smiles lightly, resting her head against his chest, "I think it's because someone in this relationship has to make up for your rudeness, love."
He laughs softly, the sound causing her to shake slightly on top of him.
"Yep, that'll do it." He gives her a playful squeeze, his tone shifting to something more serious, "We'll sit her down and set the ground rules later, hm?"
"Sounds like a plan," she agrees, her voice quieter now, "She probably won't want to come near either of us for a while, anyway."
He glances at the coffee table, his eyes narrowing with interest, "I see you've got some research out. Trying to figure out how we ended up in the other universe, huh?"
"I am," the Alchemist replies, "My theory is that there was a void breach that backfired through time. Whatever happened, it seems like something only we—us Renegades—could have directly changed in the past."
She pauses for a moment before muttering in frustration, "The Time Agency is more interested in research than getting directly involved. Not to mention their endless obsession with stealing technology that doesn't belong to them or their timeline. And so far, I haven't spotted any Teselecta, so it's not them either."
The Doctor groans at the thought, "I had a feeling it might be something like that. Also, did we ever figure out how the humans even got their hands on the Chronoplasm chemical formula in the first place?"
"Most cowardly, idiotic Time Lord," she mutters, "I think Mephis figured it out."
"Ugh, Anzor? Seriously?" he shakes his head, "Actually, no, I'm not surprised. He was an utter moron. Though I have to admit, I did enjoy the look on his face when you decked him at the Academy and mocked him for failing the Elite entrance exam."
"That idiot thought he was better than me just because I'm a Time Lady and bonded to you," she scoffs. "He scored a four. Who scores a four on the Elite Academy Entrance Exam? I didn't even get into trouble for that one. The Elite Examiners found it so amusing—especially when they heard his score—that they told the entire class. Which, of course, goes against regulation. But the High Council didn't bother to reprimand them. They were probably just as entertained by it as everyone else.
She lets out a dry laugh, shaking her head, "The very idea that he thought he could pass was laughable. Remember when I convinced you to take the exam after I wrote out all the questions for you? You scored incredibly high. Though I am relieved you never applied in the first place now. You would definitely have been among the top fifteen Ten; likely placed above the fifth, actually..."
The Doctor freezes, "Wait, wait... what, what? How high did I score!?"
"Now you want to know? You refused to let me tell you anything beyond the fact that you passed back then."
"Of course, I do now!" he presses, curiosity piqued, "Tell me!"
"Well..." she leans in slightly, her voice teasing, "You only got two answers wrong, and that was because you missed a fractional delictal in your calculations. And, let's be honest, it would have been hard enough to get it right if you'd already studied Metirinic theory, which, of course, you hadn't at that point, love."
His eyes widen in disbelief, "Wait. Wait, wait, seriously?"
"Completely serious," she says, her tone proud, "You're brilliant. I've always told you that. Your father was just a cruel, awful excuse for a Time Lord. The only thing you lacked back then was confidence. The Achiever admitted to me he almost missed one of the same questions, but he re-ran his calculations and finally got it right, and he knew the theory very well. Only the two of us had perfect scores upon entry.
"I don't know what anyone else got, but I highly doubt it was nearly as high as you. My brother missed ten questions when the pair of you took it, remember?"
"Oh, I remember, he was so proud of himself. He didn't want to be an Elite in the first place, though," the Doctor mutters, still in shock.
"Mmm, yeah, he was always a bit lazy," she recalls as he tightens his arms around her waist.
He takes a deep breath, still trying to wrap his mind around it, "And to think Borusa called me a fool all the time."
She rolls her eyes, "Well, maybe he wouldn't have if, one, he wasn't utterly mad and, two, you didn't purposely answer questions incorrectly just to hide how much you were actually capable of."
The Doctor stiffens beneath her, "I never told you that."
"You didn't need to," she responds, her voice soft but amused, "I'm very good at reading people, you know that. Do you honestly think I wouldn't notice when my own Bondmate was lying about something like that? I didn't even need the emotional bond yet to figure that one out."
"I... I..." he trails off.
She gives him a playful look, "I think the words you're looking for are 'should have known,' love."
A sheepish grin spreads across his face as he pulls her closer, "Should've known, huh?"
She nods, pressing her forehead against his, "Absolutely. But now you do."
[First Kitchen]
The Doctor leans against the countertop, his gaze sharp and serious, "Alright, before we head off on our next adventure, we need to go over a few things I should've explained earlier."
Rose frowns, stepping into the kitchen, "What do you mean?"
The Doctor doesn't even spare her a glance, "There's more than one rule to follow."
Her stomach tightens. "You... you lied?"
A dry voice cuts in from the doorway, and the Alchemist steps forward with an almost imperceptible smirk.
"The Doctor lies. I withhold the truth until the right moment."
Rose looks back and forth between them, confusion clouding her face, "I don't understand."
The Doctor's frown deepens, "It's pretty clear you do, Rose. But you need to listen now. This is your last chance."
Rose's breath catches in her throat, "She... she said she wasn't going to..."
"Don't lie," the Alchemist interjects firmly, stepping toward the counter and leaning against it as well, "I told you exactly what would happen. Now, sit down and pay attention. Or do you need a paper and pen?"
Rose swallows hard, nodding quickly as she takes a seat on one of the stools.
"Good," the Doctor says with a nod, "There are eight 'Rule Ones.' They're all important. Don't forget them."
"Rule One: We're in charge," the Alchemist states, her voice calm but unwavering.
"Rule One: Do exactly as we say," the Doctor adds, his tone sharp.
"Rule One: Stick close to us," the Time Lady continues.
The Doctor looks at Rose. "Rule One: Don't wander off."
Rose mumbles, her voice small. "That's... that's the only one you told me."
The Alchemist exchanges a glance with the Doctor, who nods, "Because if he'd told you them all back then, it would've been without me. So he didn't tell you anything at all. Understand?"
"I... Yeah, I get it," Rose murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.
The Doctor rubs his eyes in frustration, "This is something you have to do, Rose. It's a requirement if you're traveling with us. Follow the rules."
Rose nods, her posture straightening as she listens more carefully.
The Time Lady speaks again, "Rule One: Use your enemies' power against them."
"Rule One: Never use weapons," the Doctor says firmly.
"Rule One: There's always a plan. But wait for my theory to be conclusive first."
The Doctor's eyes narrow, "Rule Two: Neither of us is the Professor. She's the Alchemist, and I'm the Doctor."
The Alchemist raises an eyebrow, "Rule Three: Let us do all the talking. And also, for me, always have a backup plan."
The Doctor sighs, ruffling his hair, "Rule Four: We don't walk away—unless we're holding onto something precious."
"Rule Five: Never leave a timeline more broken than you found it."
"Rule Six: Never use weapons unless the damage can be repaired."
The Alchemist looks at her with a raised eyebrow, "Rule Seven: Never run when you're scared, and Rule Eight: Never ignore a coincidence. Unless you're busy. Then, always ignore a coincidence—but tell me about it first."
The Doctor shakes his head at Rose, "Rule Nine: Don't interrupt the Alchemist when she's angry."
The Time Lady crosses her arms with a wry smile, "Rule Ten: Don't eat anything unless you're sure it's totally safe."
The Doctor smirks, "Unless it's a badly cooked kronkburger... in which case, don't eat it at all."
The Alchemist's face softens slightly as she continues, "Rule Twelve: If either of us becomes gravely injured, we will Regenerate. We'll change. We'll become different people—but our base personality traits will stay the same."
Rose's heart skips a beat, "You mean it could happen again?"
The Time Lady's expression hardens, "Not could. Will. We just don't know when. And we plan to live these lives as long as we possibly can."
The Doctor looks at Rose, his tone serious, "Got it?"
Rose nods, silent, the weight of the moment sinking in.
"Good," the Doctor says, his voice warm but firm, "Let's go then."
Rose nods, her throat tight. She follows them out of the kitchen, tears welling up in her eyes as she tries to hold them back.