A/N: It was my birthday this week! I was going to post a bonus chapter, but then I was too tired. So I might throw in a bonus chapter one of these weeks.
Anyway, enjoy!
Emerald Green
Chapter Six
Ghosts
Molly stepped out of the TARDIS and took a look around. It was strange, being the past, but not the distant past. If this was her universe, she would be out there in New York, still with a part-time, entry-level job at the New York Times. She'd have just moved in with Isla. She'd be deleting every photo anyone tagged her in.
Jack and the Doctor followed her out. "Oh, good," said Jack as he looked up and down the street, a few shoppers milling about, none seeming to notice the blue box that had suddenly appeared. "There's a nice café just down the street from here. It's my favorite."
"Mine, too," the Doctor replied. He led the way, and Jack and Molly followed, discussing their time differences, with Molly hesitating to give anything away other than the fate of cancelled TV shows.
Once they arrived, Molly recognized it instantly. The Bells of Saint John. This was where the Doctor had taken Clara when they first met, in this version of her. Thinking of Clara, she wondered for a moment if they'd meet. Probably not. The Doctor would probably go back to Clara once Molly was gone. He had a time machine, after all. The thought made her a little sad. Clara had been her favorite Companion.
She ordered a black coffee, a croissant and some fruit, and Jack paid for everyone. They went outside and sat on the balcony, and Molly thought it might have even been the same table. She took a sip of the coffee, and though she knew it must be her imagination, she instantly felt herself coming to life.
They ate together quietly for a moment, before Jack spoke. "So, Molly."
"So, Jack."
"How did you manage to escape a TV show?"
She almost dropped the coffee, but managed to set it down carefully. She looked at the Doctor. At some point, she'd decided it was up to him whether or not they told people who she really was. It was probably a wise decision. This was his universe, she was on his TARDIS, and he had a pretty good record for making solid decisions. Mostly. Better than her record, anyway.
The Doctor leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. A little too casual, but his eyes were calculating. "What makes you say that?" It wasn't a real question. It was a test.
"You don't want to talk about how you met," Jack said, folding his hands in front of him. "But Molly already knows me."
"Could mean she's met you in the future."
"It could," Jack admitted. "But it doesn't. She's a negotiator, born in Texas, from New York, a dancer – ballet, I expect, though she didn't tell me - and she was shot not too long ago. Plus, her name is Molly Quinn and she looks exactly like herself."
"You saw the show," the Doctor replied, slowly.
"I caught a few episodes of it, yeah. Always liked Molly," Jack replied, and took a moment to wink at Molly. She wasn't sure whether to smile or roll her eyes.
"But," the Doctor began, "What does that have to do with how she knows you?"
"Well, it goes without saying."
The Doctor spread his hands out. "Say it anyway."
Jack picked up his coffee and took a sip. "Her life is a TV show. She must be from another universe, or a parallel dimension."
"And?"
"And, that means that in her universe, we're the TV show."
The Doctor was silent, a collection of almosts: Almost smirking, almost looking with approval, almost excited. Whatever the test was for, Jack had passed it.
Molly, on the other hand, was less reserved. "Ding ding ding, we have a winner," she announced, and offered to clink her coffee cup with his. Afterwards she took a sip. "That was really clever."
"I know," Jack said, smiling. "So, tell me, Molly. Who is everyone's favorite character, and why is it me?"
The Doctor's almosts faded into objection. "What makes you think it's going to be you?"
Before Jack could reply, Molly interjected, "It's the TARDIS, actually. Everyone's favorite character is the TARDIS." It was the safest answer.
Jack looked confused. "The box?"
"Bit more than just a box," the Doctor argued bitterly.
Molly finished her coffee, and already wanted another one. "It's the only real constant on the show. The Doctor regenerates every couple seasons or so, the companions come and go, and classic antagonists appear and disappear at random. The only thing in nearly every episode from the very start of the show – about sixty years ago, by the way, off and on – is the TARDIS."
"Sixty years?"
The Doctor picked up his cup. "We've been over this."
"I haven't."
Molly explained, "Well, when all the actors can be replaced, and it's a show where literally anything could happen, it's easy to keep it fresh and interesting. One episode is a mystery, another completely scifi, another a horror story. It can be whatever it needs to be to keep going."
Jack seemed surprised. "You only lasted three seasons."
"I know," Molly said, picking at her fruit. "What was my show called, anyway?"
She noticed the Doctor's warning look to Jack, but Jack didn't and said, "The Phoenix."
Molly involuntarily gasped, and immediately choked on the piece of strawberry. Jack pat her on the back a few times, and eventually she managed to get the fruit down. She grabbed the Doctor's offered coffee, too sweet for her taste, and took a few sips. When she felt she could breathe easily again, she handed the cup back.
"Are you okay?" asked Jack.
But all Molly could think was also all she could say. "Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? This has to be a joke."
"What is?" Jack asked, concerned. "The name of the show? What's wrong with it? Isn't it just your original last name?"
Molly was shaking her head before he'd finished speaking. "No. I'm not talking about it." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack look to the Doctor, who also shook his head.
"I don't know. And if I did, I wouldn't tell you."
"Fair enough," replied Jack. He turned back to his breakfast.
"Subject change, please," Molly announced. She was tired of doing it herself.
The Doctor set aside his empty coffee cup and looked to Molly. "Where do you want to go next, for your first real trip?"
Molly raised her eyebrows. "I thought the last trip was the first real trip."
The Doctor spread out his hands. "That was an errand trip. We just got a bit sidetracked," he said. "Now we get to go on the real first trip."
"Unlike that planet with the two suns."
"Yeah."
"And the nebula."
"…yeah," the Doctor replied again, though this time a little more uncertainly. "Well, forget about the number. Where do you want to go? Or when? Or…both?"
Molly's eyes widened as she realized, fully realized, that she could choose to go anywhere or anywhen in the universe. There were so many options, they were very nearly literally limitless, and how many people were lucky enough to get to choose one? How could she process all the possibilities? How could she narrow all of space and time to one, specific place, one, specific time? How many chances was she going to get to travel like this? No wonder Clara had been overwhelmed.
"Well?" The Doctor prompted her.
She held a finger up. "Give me a second, I don't process information as fast as you do, and I…can't even comprehend how many options there are."
"There must have been somewhere you thought of wanting to go, when you watched the show."
Molly thought back to sitting in the little basement room, staring up at the television with the grainy screen that sometimes glitched into a single line that was fixed by smacking it with a shoe. Sitting there, completely alone, in the dark, all the things she'd seen and done that no one should ever see or do being left behind as she almost melted into the movie, and then later, the show. Doctor Who had been her escape from it all, and she understood the Doctor, watching him run away from it all himself. So where had she dreamed of running to first?
Oh. Of course. It had more to do with what she'd missed in her own life then something incredible she'd wanted to see on the show. The Doctor might be disappointed, but this was another good choice to ease in before all the running and attempts to avoid death. And she'd wanted to see it with all her heart.
"Paris, June 28th 1841."
She watched as the Doctor's mind raced to try to find the reason why that specific place and that specific time. In a few seconds, his eyes lit up. "Ah! The first performance of the ballet Giselle, with Carlotta Grisi in the title role. That's it, isn't it?"
Jack looked curious. "You could go anywhere, do anything – why a ballet?"
"It was her dream role," the Doctor replied, straightening his jacket and leaning back. "She mentioned on the show once."
It was a little unnerving, having the Doctor know that without her telling him. He probably knew things about her she hadn't told anyone. She started to realize what the Doctor must have felt as she named off all those people and events she shouldn't have known about while trying to prove he was a TV show in her world.
"You're not disappointed?" she asked the Doctor. "It's not exactly the most thrilling request."
"Not at all. I saw Giselle once. Most of it. Part of it, probably," he replied. "I don't remember when. I was a bit…distracted. But it was Grisi, definitely Grisi. Amazing dancer. I would like to give it another go. I hear there's ghosts at the end. Are they real ghosts? Didn't see that part, again, distracted."
"Distracted?" Molly asked cautiously. "There weren't aliens running around backstage or anything, were there?"
"Nope! Only alien there was me." He frowned. "As far as I know."
"So, three for the ballet?"
"Yep, three for the – oh, wait a minute." His voice became accusing. "I said we were just dropping him off!"
Molly stood and put her napkin on the table. "Too late. You already said yes."
"But, I-"
She patted Jack's shoulder as she moved around behind him. "Come on, Jack, we don't want to be late."
As she walked away, she heard the Doctor making objection noises, but Jack said, "Sorry, Doctor. You heard her. We don't want to be late."
She heard Jack begin to follow her and the Doctor's chair move away from the table. "It's a time machine, we can't be late!"
So they were, of course, late. Molly had struggled putting on the clothing that would fit in with the time, though it felt to her like a costume. They snuck in as the opera they performed before the ballet was fading, and only seemed to irritate a few people as they snuck into the box.
They settled in their seats as the ballet itself began, the curtain opening on a pretty painted backdrop of a small woodland village, the façade of a house on either side. It only took a few breaths of time before Molly felt lost in the beauty of it all. Of the set, the costumes, the dances that were so similar to what she'd seen but was also so different, the choreography having changed since this first night. And Carlotta Grisi…Molly could see why everyone had sung her praises, and why the show had so quickly spread across the continent. It was almost ethereal in its loveliness.
But that's not where the beauty ended. Under her feet was 1841, all around her were people living their regular lives in 1841. It may as well have been a whole alien world, still somehow full of humans. Their lives were so different, and yet so the same. In pictures you never thought of those people as being real; of their clothes being as regular to them as jeans or a little black dress, or women using their gloves as hand fans, people whispering about the other people around them, men starting to doze off, kids pointing at the dancers. She even saw people below her who had snuck in some snacks of some kind, eating and quietly laughing. It was all so real – and it had all already happened. It had already happened, and it was happening now. Her mind was swimming. It wasn't a surprise that Time Lords could process information so quickly; time travel was such a wonderful tangle, her human mind could barely keep up with it all.
"So, what's happening?" she heard Jack whisper from her right. She waited to feel some anger at him interrupting this experience, but it felt as much a part of it as the dancers on the stage were.
"Essentially, Giselle is about a girl, named Giselle, who lives in a little village that is having a festival. She loves dancing more than anything," she whispered back. "But she has a heart condition, and if she gets too worked up, she'll die. She meets a man and falls in love with him, and later some nobles come to see the festival. In gratitude for a necklace a noblewoman gave her, Giselle dances – just…the best variation in all of ballet."
Molly's mind began to drift back, years and years. "I'd been dancing since I was three when I saw it, dancing for five years already, but that was the moment I decided I wanted to dedicate my whole life to ballet…just so I could perform that." She noticed that her voice had been growing quieter with each word, and a wistful tone had somehow snuck in. But with every pleasant memory of her mother, something awful was attached, and she could feel it pulling her down. She wasn't allowed to just enjoy the memory of her mother. She couldn't even remember the words of a single conversation they'd had anymore.
She fought to set the thoughts aside. "Anyway, Giselle finds out that the man she's in love with is secretly a nobleman and engaged to the woman who gave her the necklace, and she goes mad and dies, sometimes by suicide, sometimes from her heart condition, depends on the production. In the next act, the Wilis appear, women who died scorned by a man they loved, and now they find men and force them to dance to death. They summon Giselle's ghost to join them, and try to kill the nobleman that tricked her, but she begs them to stop and helps him, and eventually they defeat the Wilis and Giselle's soul is set free, and the nobleman walks off alone."
"So…the ghosts aren't real," came the Doctor's voice from the other side of her, sounding a little disappointed. She tried to glare at him but couldn't help but smile at the ridiculousness of him.
She turned back to the stage and continued to be swept away in it, watching the pantomime of Grisi looking for whoever it was who had knocked on her door and hidden. But her mind wandered back years and years again. "All our money went to my ballet career," she started, speaking mostly to herself. "But my mom sold her pearls so she could take me to Giselle. She drove three hours to San Antonio so I could see…oh," she paused, and glanced at the Doctor. "Sorry. You probably already know all this."
She saw the Doctor smile and shrug. "Tell me anyway."
Molly looked back to the stage as the nobleman approached Giselle. "She drove all that way so I could see it. I wore my only nice dress. We had dinner on the Riverwalk. On the way home, I talked about the show for so long, I fell asleep midsentence. It was everything to me, everything my future was going to be…" She should have known better. She again had to dodge the knives of darker memories. "Anyway. It's a great ballet."
Jack whispered, "Did you ever get to dance in it?"
The Doctor's voice interrupted again, an urgent note piercing through. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. We have to go." He took Molly's arm and pulled her up. "We have to go. We'll see her on another night. Maybe her last?" He led her out behind him, rushing around the other people and out the door. She stumbled a little as he rushed to the stairs, and she pulled herself loose so she could lift her skirt as they made their way down.
"What's going on?" she asked, hoping there wasn't a note of panic in her voice. Had he seen something dangerous? But he just kept rushing down the stairs with no answer. "Doctor, what's wrong? What did you see?"
He stopped at the bottom of the steps so suddenly she bumped into him. She felt an unusually strong apprehension as she peeked around the Doctor to see why he had stopped.
And there she stood. Tall, lean, strong. One of the few people who could say that the grey of their dress made their skin glow. The intense eyes, the almost-smirking mouth, and of course…the space hair.
The Doctor inhaled sharply. "River." Molly could barely even hear him.
"What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost. I told you I'd be right back, I just forgot my gloves," River responded. Even with such a casual, innocent sentence, her voice always seemed to hold a tone of teasing, flirtation, or both. Molly saw the Doctor's eyes close in a moment of remembering and regret, just as River's eyes drifted to her, then Jack behind her, and narrowed with suspicion. "Really? I'm gone two minutes, and you've already got some strays following you?"
Molly opened her mouth to violently object, but held back. This moment felt oddly sacred.
"Wrong Doctor, I'm afraid," the Doctor explained. His demeanor had changed, returning to what it had been before he'd stood and bolted so suddenly.
Of course. The Doctor said he'd seen Giselle before. He must have taken River and forgotten which day. What he'd seen that made him run was himself beside an empty seat.
River frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Look at my tie." The Doctor reached up to straighten it. "I'm wearing white. He's wearing black."
River paused, looking the Doctor up and down. "Well, what are you doing here? You know you shouldn't run into yourself."
"It was an accident," the Doctor explained. "I got my days confused. You know me."
"I do know you." River looked at Molly again. As amazing as it was to see River in person, having her look at you with both curiosity and suspicion was even less comfortable than it looked on the screen. Another thing she and the Doctor had in common. "And is this your date? You always had a thing for gingers."
Molly decided it was time to speak up. "No, no, not his date," she said quickly. "He's, um, just my ride. Uh…" She looked behind her, hooked her arm in Jack's and pulled him forward. "This is my date."
River and Jack eyed each other, and suddenly Molly wished she was at home with a bag of popcorn. Jack and River. This was going to be interesting.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack smile. "But I do have a whole other arm if you want to join us," he offered. "I'd never say no to a date with two gorgeous ladies."
River looked him up and down with approval. "You never introduced me to this one," River said to the Doctor, sounding amused and a little admiring.
"And I never will," replied the Doctor.
"Captain Jack Harkness." Jack took on the duty of introducing himself. "At your service. Anytime, anywhere."
"You're the worst date," Molly sighed.
River, however, was giving a flirtatious look to Jack. "Oh, this one might get me into trouble."
Out of the corner of her eye, Molly saw Jack wink. "And what's wrong with a little trouble?"
"Nothing at all. Except for my old fella standing right there," River said, pointing to the Doctor with a gloved hand.
Jack leaned around Molly to look at the Doctor in surprise. "You're a married man now, Doc?"
"Uh. A bit."
"What's 'a bit' mean?" Jack wondered. He looked back to River. "Does that mean the marriage is 'a bit' open?"
River smiled. "Oh, I might be able to open it just a crack."
Molly removed her arm from Jack's. "I am uncomfy."
"Me, too," muttered the Doctor. He waved his hands to get River's attention. "River. You need to go back to your Doctor now. Don't mention you saw me, that's a good girl."
"Now, Doctor, you know there's only one place you can call me that, and it's certainly not in public," River flirted, walking up to him and giving him a wink. As she headed up the stairs around him, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Behave yourself."
"Never." The Doctor turned and watched as she headed up the stairs, then hastily turned and headed the other direction. Molly followed hurriedly, with Jack coming after her. They got into the TARDIS as the Doctor was firing her up.
"Sorry about that," he apologized quickly, not looking up from his task. "We'll do her last performance, hey? Finale is just as good as a premiere, right?"
"When did you marry a woman like that?" Jack asked, starting to approach the Doctor. "And…how?"
Molly tugged on Jack's coat, and gave him a stern look she hoped communicated 'shut up and stay here'. As she walked up to the Doctor, he replied to Jack. "Long story. We met a long time ago. A very long time ago."
Molly slid up beside the Doctor and watched his face. He was focused on what he was doing – too focused. And it shouldn't have taken this much time to get the TARDIS going again. Just behind his eyes, there was pain. This was the first time he'd seen River since his tomb, she was sure of it.
The Doctor glanced at her. "Stop staring."
"Are you okay?" she whispered. She glanced over her shoulder, and was glad to see that Jack had busied himself texting someone on his phone.
"Fine, fine," the Doctor replied distractedly. "I'm always fine."
But if Molly's chest ached at the thought of the Doctor seeing River again despite their many, painful goodbyes, she couldn't imagine what he was feeling. "I'm not one of the people you can lie to about that, you know."
The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment, stopping what he was doing. He then turned to her. "I know," he said lowly. "But do me a favor. Pretend you are."
She wanted to say something more, to say something comforting, to convince him to admit how he was feeling, but she knew better. Instead, she nodded. "Okay," she said, speaking up a bit more. "Let's try that again."
The ballet had been even better than she'd imagined. But even with how pleased she was by it, Molly had spent a lot of that time worrying about the Doctor. She really, truly hadn't known him all that long. Despite watching the show for so much of her life, this was the real Doctor, a real person, and someone she had only known for about a day and a half. She really had no place worrying about him. But if she broke it down, even if he was a stranger, she would worry about someone who had just had a run-in with their dead wife.
Changed back into her normal clothes, she leaned against the railing of the TARDIS and watched as the Doctor began to set the TARDIS's destination, wondering what he was thinking. Jack leaned against the railing beside her.
"So," Jack said, "Did you ever get to play Giselle?"
Replace worrying about the Doctor's sadness with her own. "I lost my parents in one way or another when I was thirteen. There was a little while there that I bounced around foster homes. It was all very…White Oleander, for a while."
"White Oleander?" the Doctor asked.
"It's a book. A very sad book," explained Molly. "About a girl who goes from one bad foster situation to another. Not that mine were all bad, they just…didn't last. Anyway, it was a few years before I landed in a family that could afford for me to continue my lessons. They were very kind, very supportive. Never missed a practice. I was seventeen when we were going to do my last show before I aged out of the system and would have to start paying for myself." She paused. "I'm not being overconfident when I say that I was good. I was very, very good. There wasn't a single person who doubted that I would go on to be principal at a great company someday. I placed first in more than one worldwide competition. So, when they announced Giselle, I knew it was my chance at my dream role."
She paused, the memories flooded her head, the elation, the longing, the hope. Life was finally beginning to feel worth living again. "I got the role, and it was a not-so-secret secret that there would be scouts in the audience, just when I needed them to be there. It was the start of…oh, everything. My dream, my life. Ballet was my escape, and the only way I knew how to express vulnerability anymore. Ballet was…who I was." It occurred to Molly that she was here, showing that vulnerability now, despite her years of carefully constructing a persona that didn't care too much about anything.
She was getting overemotional with what were essentially two strangers. Reel it in. "Two weeks before the performance, my foster parents were arrested for dealing meth. Apparently, that was how they could afford my lessons. I ran out of foster homes I was allowed in. I moved in with my aunt and cousin, in the middle of nowhere. When I moved to New York I wanted to…but it was better if no one had a chance to recognize me. So…that was that. I fell back on teaching a ballet workout class instead, along with attempting to be a journalist. I still practiced on my own, but…it wasn't the same."
She hadn't meant to give her whole life story, but once she'd started, it had been difficult to stop. Molly sighed, hoping to sigh out all that old disappointment and sorrow. "Anyway," she started, forcing a brighter note to her voice. "Thanks for taking me to see Grisi."
"Not a problem, happy to do it," replied the Doctor. And suddenly they were off. Molly grabbed the bar behind her to keep herself still. She took a few deep breaths and tried to force the concept of space from her mind.
They landed and stepped out, back to Earth, 2019, where Jack belonged. Jack turned to the Doctor, and offered a hand.
"Well, Doc, it's been great seeing you again," he said.
The Doctor grinned and shook Jack's hand. "You, too, Captain. Don't be a stranger."
"You're welcome to come around to visit anytime."
"Really," the Doctor said softly. "Really. It's been good…very good…to see you again. I'm glad I did."
"Me, too," said Jack, his voice uncharacteristically soft. After a moment, he pulled the Doctor into a hug. "You take care of yourself, you hear?"
"You know, you could…come along, if you wanted."
Molly was surprised by the invitation. The Doctor seemed just as surprised he'd said it.
Jack grinned, and stepped back. "I'd love to, but I've got some of my own stuff going on. Maybe next time."
"Well, don't get into any trouble," replied the Doctor.
"Wouldn't that be boring?" Jack turned to Molly, and offered a hand. "Miss Molly Quinn," he grinned. "It's been a pleasure. You keep safe, alright?"
She opted for a short hug instead. "You, too, Jack," she replied. She stepped away, and looked from Jack to the Doctor. "I'm going to head in. Take your time."
The Doctor looked over at her with gratitude as she stepped back inside the TARDIS. Their goodbye deserved a little more privacy than she'd been letting it have.
She took a quick walk around the console, admiring all the little, strange bits and pieces, then headed up the stairs to examine the books. Mostly science and mathematics books that she couldn't hope to understand, and a couple thick history tomes, too, but she was happy to see a copy of Alice in Wonderland. She flipped through it until the TARDIS door opened again, and the Doctor stepped through.
Molly put the book back and headed back down the stairs. She didn't say anything as he set new coordinates, but waited until he was ready to speak.
"The Face of Boe," the Doctor finally said. "That's who he was there to see, though he just told me it was someone with a big head. The Face of Boe told him when to deliver a message to me. I don't know how much of this you know."
Molly folded her arms and approached him, standing next to him at the console. "The Face of Boe is Jack, way in the future. Just before the Face of Boe dies, he tells you you're not alone."
The Doctor nodded. "The Face of Boe told Jack to tell me about the Master just before he…they…die. Jack wasn't sure if I was ever supposed to know who the Face of Boe was. I decided not to mention that he'd already told me, unintentionally."
"So, he told himself to tell you about the Master?"
"Seems so. Jack is full of paradoxes." He seemed to repress a sigh. "I also think we both knew it would be a long time before we saw each other again. If I do see him again. I think I might – we're both everywhere – but it's been a long time, and probably will be, again."
"That's why you let him tag along," replied Molly. It hadn't been all that difficult to convince him to have brunch with Jack, to bring him along to the ballet. "You knew it would be a while."
The Doctor nodded, and was silent a moment before he took a slow breath. "Anyway," he began, but he didn't seem to know where he was headed with that sentence.
Molly decided to step in for him. "Anywhere we should go next? I think we can fit in one more trip today. Or…in the number of hours that take up a day."
"Any specific sort of place you have in mind?" She was relieved to hear a note of excitement in his voice again. "Past, future, another planet? Past or future on another planet? Spaceship, space station, star base? I know about a structure so resistant to heat it can orbit its sun closer than any planet can. Or we could have tea with Lord Byron, he's always a laugh. Or we could visit ancient Egypt. Must avoid Ramses the First, though, I owe him money. Maybe a planet that's one great big dog park? Space dogs? Do you want to see space dogs?"
Molly felt a dizziness that was very familiar now. There were just too many infinite options. "Yeah," she laughed. "Space dogs. And ancient Egypt and Greece, and modern Japan and Italy. Another planet, star bases. All of it. That's the problem, I want to see everything, and there's no way to do that."
The Doctor leaned around the console to look at her with a slow smile. "Everything it is, then!" He ran around flipping switches and spinning knobs and once she thought she saw him play a touchpad like a xylophone. "Or Everywhere, to be precise!"
They were off again before she could ask where. She held on tight and closed her eyes and counted to ten, and sighed with relief when they landed. "What do you mean, everywhere? We can't possibly see everywhere. Where are we?"
"Everywhere!" The Doctor repeated, as though that answered her question. He approached her, his hands gesturing excitedly. "In the future, as humanity spreads out, they get homesick. They go back to Earth and bring bits of the home planet with them, bring all their cultures and history and lives and make a city with them, and they call it Everywhere. It's like Epcot, except it's all real. Little pockets of each country and culture spread throughout, some with historical sites complete with restorations – and, keep in mind, that includes your time, too – and some of their own time, 58-Apple-B3, all mixed up with things they've picked up as they travelled across the stars, influences from alien cultures. So, actually, not like Epcot at all, forget I said Epcot."
Molly stared. Everywhere. A city called Everywhere. She could experience so much of Earth all at once, and some of other planets. It was almost too perfect. "Wow. Okay. Let's do it."
"Earth 2.0, right outside," The Doctor announced. "…there were a lot of Earth 2.0s when humanity moved out. They all wanted the rights to that name and never managed to settle on a compromise." The Doctor pointed through one of the doors to the rest of the TARDIS. "Might want to change first. It's summer, best time to go, but the jumper might get a bit warm."
"Finally," she breathed. "Somewhere I'm not going to freeze." Between her arrival on the TARDIS and the water and the cold ship and even Paris in May, she was really looking forward to some real warmth. "Which way was the wardrobe?"
"Just a straight right, about eight doors, then to the left."
"Got it."
She half-ran to the wardrobe, grabbed the first pair of denim shorts she saw and a white lacy tank, and headed back to her room to change. But when the door opened, she was faced with something completely different.
"Um, Doctor?!" she called, though she knew she was probably a little too far away for him to hear her. She stepped into the room, a long room with a nostalgic wood floor, walls of mirrors, and a barre set along one side, along with something that looked like a futuristic stereo system. On the other were rows of very familiar items hanging or sitting on a shelf: tights and leg warmers and skirts and leotards and tutus and a shelf full of pointe shoes. She dropped the clothes she was holding on the floor and ran to look at them. They were even created by her preferred maker, who had retired years ago. The shoes would fit her perfectly.
She heard footsteps behind her. "What is i – oh." She turned and saw the Doctor looking around with surprise. "Well, then. I'd say the TARDIS is warming up to you."
Molly found that she couldn't respond. All she could do was stare, and try to ignore the tears gathering in her eyes that she saw reflected in the mirror. A warmth filled her chest that almost made her gasp. "She made me a ballet studio?" she whispered, uncertain if the Doctor could even hear her.
"She heard you. She hears everything," the Doctor explained, his voice holding that certain tone of warm admiration he always had when speaking about the TARDIS. "She heard you talk about how important ballet was to you. So, she gave you a gift."
"Thank you," she whispered to the TARDIS. Molly wiped tears off her face with the back of her hand. "I can dance again. I really can." The Doctor had given her body back to her, and the TARDIS had given her everything else she needed. "Oh, sometimes I can't help but wonder if it really is all a dream." She turned to look at the Doctor with a smile. "Not really. Please don't try to shove me onto any desolate planets."
The Doctor gave a small smile. "Cross my hearts," he said, using both hands to cross both sides of his chest.
She looked back at the row of clothing. "Can the TARDIS create clothing?"
The Doctor stepped up and began looking through them. "No. Well, sometimes. I'm actually not certain," he admitted. "I stole this TARDIS, and whoever had it before me seemed to collect all kinds of clothing. It may be that the TARDIS made them, or that she just relocated them."
Molly walked across the floor as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It smelled just like the studio she'd used back in New York, where she had paid the owner to let her dance at night when all the classes were over.
She heard the Doctor take a few steps closer. "Do you want a moment? Or a few hours? We can do Everywhere tomorrow."
Opening her eyes, she set her hand on the barre, smiling down at it. Somehow, the alien but human world outside seemed a little less enticing. "Yes, please. If you don't mind."
The Doctor clapped his hands together, and the sound echoed off the mirrors. "Not a problem. It'll still be outside in the morning." He started for the door. "I'll pop out and bring something back for tea."
"Thanks," she said. Then she turned back to him. "But, um. One question."
"Yes?"
"Where did my room go?"
A/N: I am completely inept at flirting, so if that didn't read like good flirting, suspend your disbelief for me a bit, please! Also, I accidentally wrote a whole plot hole in this chapter involving the Face of Boe, but I think I repaired it. Fingers crossed that bit worked okay because I'm not up to that level of rewriting!