Eyes of Time: The Final Line

by Hulinhjalmur

The Alchemist knows that Time has consequences. After Regenerating with the Doctor, both Time Lords must face the repercussions of Rose Tyler's actions and payment when it comes due. As the Time Vortex said of Bad Wolf—Time's Chosen always bites back. Now, while navigating their new lives and healing from the Time War's trauma, they cling to the hope of reuniting with their family.

9. Chapter 9: The Girl in the Fireplace

Chapter Nine: The Girl in the Fireplace

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[Spaceship]

The Doctor steps out of the TARDIS, surveying their latest destination with curious eyes. The metallic walls of the spaceship stretch into the distance, cold and dimly lit, with an occasional flicker of failing lights casting eerie shadows. His Bondmate follows close behind, her calm demeanor contrasting the excited chatter from Rose and Mickey as they step into the vast, echoing space.

"It's a spaceship! Brilliant! I got a spaceship on my first go!" Mickey exclaims, his excitement palpable.

Dust clings to the edges of the floor, and the faint hum of machinery underscores the stillness.

"It looks... kind of abandoned," Rose murmurs, "Anyone on board?"

"Nah, nothing here," the Doctor replies breezily, spinning on his heel to look back at her with a reassuring smile, "Well, nothing dangerous," He pauses, "Well, not that dangerous," with a shrug, he claps his hands and pulls out his sonic screwdriver, "You know what, I'll do a quick scan—just in case there's anything... really dangerous."

"So, what's the date? How far have we gone?" Rose turns to the Alchemist, curious.

The Alchemist glances up, briefly meeting Rose's eyes before focusing back on her search through her pockets, "5087, the 10th of May, technically," she mutters, finally retrieving a pair of nose filters and adjusting them carefully, "Also, 10:27 AM."

The Doctor strides over to a nearby console, flipping a large switch that brings the room to life with a soft glow. He peers up at the starry expanse visible through a small viewport, his face alight with wonder.

"51st century. Dagmar Cluster. You're a long way from home, Mickey–two and a half galaxies away," the Time Lord explains.

Rose grins, nudging Mickey with her elbow, "Mickey Smith, meet the universe," she says teasingly, "See anything you like?"

"It's so... realistic!" Mickey replies, eyes wide in amazement.

"I should hope so, Mickey. It's real!" the Alchemist laughs.

The Doctor hunches over a console, tapping away, "Dear me. Had some cowboys on this ship. Got a ton of repair work going on," He squints at the screen, frowning," Now that's odd. Look at that. All the warp engines are on–running at full capacity. There's enough power running through this ship to punch a hole in the universe, but we're not moving. So where's all that power going?"

The Alchemist steps up beside him, peering at the screen. Her brow furrows as she tilts her head, scanning the data.

"Something doesn't add up," she murmurs.

Rose looks around, concerned. "Where'd all the crew go?"

The Doctor shrugs, "Good question. No life readings on board."

"That's because it's abandoned," the Alchemist frowns, "I can't hear anyone at all."

"We're in deep space," Rose remarks, "They didn't just nip out for a quick cig."

"Nope. I've checked all the smoking pods," the Doctor says, eyes scanning the readouts; he pauses and then cocks his head. "Can you smell that?"

The Alchemist looks around, grimacing slightly, "Burning flesh. Of some sort."

Rose wrinkles her nose. "Yeah... someone's cooking."

"Sunday roast... definitely," Mickey says confidently.

The Doctor presses a button, and with a low, mechanical groan, a hidden door slides open behind them, revealing a dimly lit passage.

[Fireplace room]

The far wall is adorned with intricate wood paneling, framing an ornate 18th-century fireplace that crackles warmly, its golden glow flickering across the room. Above the mantelpiece, an elaborate ormolu clock rests at its center, its delicate filigree shimmering faintly in the firelight.

The Doctor approaches the fireplace curiously, "Well, there's something you don't see on your average spaceship," he remarks, leaning closer to inspect the craftsmanship, "18th century. French. Nice mantel."

The Time Lady smiles, her fingers trailing lightly over the smooth mahogany frame, "Not a hologram," she announces, delighted, "It's not even a reproduction. This is actually an 18th-century French fireplace. Well-made, mahogany–and it's double-sided," her voice brightens with excitement as she peers closer, "There's another room through there!"

Rose steps closer, her brow furrowing as she notices a window set into the same wall. The stars of deep space twinkle serenely beyond.

"There can't be. That's the outer hull of the ship. Look," she says, pointing at the impossible sight.

Unfazed, the Time Lords crouch down and peer through the fireplace opening.

"Hello," the Doctor greets.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle!" the Alchemist adds sweetly.

On the other side of the fireplace, a young girl kneels in her nightgown, her small frame illuminated by the flickering firelight.

"Hello," the girl replies.

The Doctor tilts his head, his tone gentle, "What's your name?"

The girl smiles softly, "Reinette."

"Reinette, that's a lovely name. It means 'Little Queen.' I always wanted to meet someone named Reinette," the Alchemist says warmly, "Can you tell me where you are at the moment, Little Queen?" she asks, unable to get a reading through the time window beyond a broad assumption.

Reinette nods, "In my bedroom."

"And where's your bedroom? Where do you live, Reinette?" the Doctor asks.

"Paris, of course," she replies with a hint of confusion.

"Paris, right!" the Doctor exclaims, nodding rapidly.

The girl tilts her head, "Madame, Monsieur, what are you doing in my fireplace?"

The Time Lords exchange a quick, bemused glance before the Doctor shrugs, "Oh, just a routine fire check," he explains breezily, "Can you tell me what year it is?"

Reinette frowns slightly, "Of course, I can. 1727."

"Right, lovely," the Doctor hums thoughtfully, "One of my favorites. August is rubbish, though. Stay indoors."

"Did you enjoy the holidays?" the Alchemist asks with a kind smile.

The girl brightens, "I did! Maman got me a new dress for Christmas."

"Oh, we love Christmas!" the Doctor grins, "Okay, that's all for now. Thanks for your help. Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire. Night, night."

"Goodnight, Monsieur, Madame," Reinette waves.

"Bonsoir, mademoiselle!" the Alchemist adds cheerfully before they both stand.

Mickey, having watched the exchange, gapes, "You said this was the 51st century!?"

The Doctor shrugs casually. "I also said this ship was generating enough power to punch a hole in the universe. I think we just found the hole. Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink."

"What's that?" Mickey frowns.

The Alchemist chuckles, shaking her head, "Oh, he has no idea. My husband just made it up. You'll get used to it."

The Doctor nods in agreement, "Didn't want to say 'magic door.'"

"It's actually called a time window. Rather primitive technology, to be honest," the Alchemist tells them.

The Time Lords share a concerned look, and he asks, 'How long have they been open?'

She flips on her preceptors and sighs in relief, 'Just three hours and 21 minutes. We just need to deal with the situation and then shut them down.'

Rose crosses her arms, "And on the other side of the magic door-slash-time window is France in 1727?"

The Doctor nods, removing and tossing his coat over onto a table, "Well, she was speaking French. Right-period French, too."

"So was I!" the Alchemist says with a playful grin.

The Doctor glances at the fireplace, 'Think we can get through?'

"She was speaking English. I heard her," Mickey protests, "You were too, except for a couple of words."

'A window has two entrances. Competition? Winner picks the next trip,' she replies as she looks at it.

Rose grins, "That's the TARDIS. Translates for you."

'Deal,' the Doctor calls out.

"Even French?" Mickey asks, his awe returning.

Rose shrugs, "Yeah."

The Time Lords ignore them, their attention fully on the fireplace. The Doctor's eyes light up as he spots the rotation switch.

"Gotcha! I win," he declares, pressing it triumphantly.

"Doctor! Ally!" Rose shouts, running forward.

The Time Lords exchange grins, gripping the sides of the fireplace as it begins to turn.

"Round we go!" the Alchemist says gleefully, and they vanish through the revolving panel.

[Reinette's bedroom]

Snow falls gently outside, blanketing the world in silence. Reinette sleeps peacefully on her bed, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Without warning, the Bondmates step into her sanctuary, and a horse neighs outside, startling the girl awake. Spotting the Time Lords, she gasps.

"It's okay! Don't scream," the Doctor says quickly, "It's me. It's us. The fireplace man and lady. Look, we were talking just a moment ago, remember? We were in your fireplace."

He raises his sonic screwdriver, and with a faint hum, the wick of a nearby candle catches light. The warm glow illuminates the confusion in Reinette's wide eyes as the Alchemist scans the room, her gaze darting between the bed and the mantel.

"Monsieur," Reinette says, "That was weeks ago. That was months."

"She's right. It's the 18th of March now," the Alchemist confirms, frowning.

The Doctor pauses mid-step, glancing between the girl and his Bondmate, "Really? Oh. Must be a loose connection. Need to get a man in."

Reinette sits up straighter, her tone firmer, "Who are you? And what are you doing here?"

The Alchemist's eyes narrow, and she takes a half-step closer to the mantelpiece, 'That clock is broken, but it's still ticking far too loudly.'

The Doctor's brow furrows as he follows her gaze, 'The ticking is unusually loud,' he agrees.

She huffs aloud, her frustration spilling into her tone, "More tocking , less ticking ."

"Okay, that's scary," the Doctor mutters, his gaze fixed on the clock now.

Reinette tilts her head, "You're scared of a broken clock?"

He nods, "Just a bit scared, yeah. Just a little bit. Because you see, if this clock's broken, and it's the only clock in the room…" He pauses, turning his ear toward the sound, "…then what's that?"

The Alchemist holds a hand behind her ear and gestures for Reinette to listen. Slowly, the girl's frown deepens.

The room fills with an eerie, rhythmic sound: Tick, tock, tick, tock.

"Because you see, that's not a clock," the Doctor explains, "You can tell by the resonance–too big. Six feet, I'd say. The size of a man."

"What is it?" Reinette whispers, her voice trembling.

The Alchemist kneels on the bed beside her, pulling the girl close, "You stay right here with me, hm?" she murmurs gently.

A quick tickle to her side draws a small laugh, breaking the tension for a moment.

The Doctor checks behind the curtains before he steps over to the bed, "Now, let's think. If you were a thing that ticked, and you were hiding in someone's bedroom, first thing you'd do–break the clock. No one notices the sound of one clock ticking. But two? That might make someone wonder if they're really alone."

He crouches low, switching his sonic screwdriver to flashlight mode. The beam of light slices into the shadows beneath the bed. In an instant, something unseen swats the device from his hand. The Doctor straightens slowly, retrieving the sonic.

The Alchemist stiffens, her body taut as she listens intently. The faint sound of movement catches her ear.

"Reinette," she whispers softly, "Don't look around. Just stay with me."

The girl nods, burrowing into the Alchemist's embrace, her small face tucked securely beneath the cascade of the Time Lady's copper hair.

A shadow shifts. A figure steps into view behind the bed–silent, still. Its opulent clothing shimmers faintly in the candlelight, and a smiling harlequin mask conceals its face.

The Doctor lifts his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the figure, "You. Stay exactly where you are," he glances at the child, "Hold still, Reinette. Let her look."

"Tilt your head back, my Little Queen," the Alchemist murmurs softly.

Reinette obeys, lifting her face. The Time Lady gently cradles the girl's head, fingers on her temples, gazing deeply into her wide, frightened eyes. After a long moment, she exhales sharply and presses Reinette's face back against her chest.

"You've been scanning her brain," the Alchemist accuses.

"What? You've crossed two galaxies and thousands of years just to scan a child's brain?" the Doctor scoffs, "What could there be in a little girl's mind worth blowing a hole in the universe?"

Reinette peeks over the Alchemist's shoulder, her curiosity overcoming her fear, "I don't understand. It wants me? You want me?"

The masked figure's mechanical voice answers, "Not yet. You are incomplete."

The Doctor's brow furrows, "Incomplete? What's that mean? Incomplete? You can answer her–you can answer me. What do you mean, incomplete?"

The android begins to pace, its movements deliberate and precise. As it rounds the bed, a blade emerges from its hand, gleaming ominously.

"Monsieur, be careful!" Reinette calls out.

The Doctor grins wryly as he retreats a step, "Just a nightmare, Reinette. Don't worry about it. Everyone has nightmares."

The Alchemist shifts, her muscles coiling like a spring. With a fluid leap, she vaults off the bed in a somersault, landing gracefully as Reinette gasps in awe and delight.

"Even monsters from under the bed have nightmares, don't you, monster?" she taunts.

The android lunges, but the Time Lady sidesteps effortlessly, pulling the Doctor out of its path. Its blade slices through the air and lodges itself into the fireplace mantel with a loud thunk .

"What do monsters have nightmares about?" Reinette asks.

The Doctor scrambles onto the fireplace, his fingers finding the rotation mechanism. He triggers it, and the mantel begins to turn. The Alchemist leans casually against the rotating frame, throwing up jazz hands theatrically.

The Time Lords shout together, their voices ringing with defiance, "Us!"

[Fireplace Room]

"Doctor! Ally!" Rose shouts as the Time Lords reappear in the room.

The Doctor wastes no time spotting a mechanical tool on a nearby rack. He snatches it and fires its contents at the android. A hiss fills the air as the machine freezes, encased in a sheath of glistening ice.

Mickey grins, crossing his arms, "Excellent. Ice gun."

"Fire extinguisher," the Time Lord corrects, holding it up for emphasis.

The Alchemist chuckles, "I like ice gun better, Mister Freeze."

The Doctor pouts, "I am not Mister Freeze."

Smirking, Mickey stifles his laughter, getting the reference.

"Where did that thing come from?" Rose asks, edging closer to the frozen android.

"Here," the Doctor replies, gesturing around them.

Mickey asks, "So why's it dressed like that?"

The Time Lord shrugs, "Field trip to France, maybe? Some kind of basic camouflage protocol. Nice needlework. Shame about the face."

"Lovely costume design, truly," the Alchemist adds.

The Doctor leans in, his hands deftly prying off the harlequin mask. Beneath it lies an intricate network of gleaming clockwork mechanisms and gears.

He beams, "Oh, you are beautiful! No, really, you are. Just look at this craftsmanship, Ally!" He gestures for his Bondmate to join him, "I mean, you're almost as lovely as her. Almost."

The Alchemist smirks, "Careful, husband. Compliments like that have consequences."

Unfazed, the Doctor continues to ramble, inspecting the android closely, "You're gorgeous! Look at that. Space age clockwork, I love it. I've got chills! Listen, seriously, I mean this from the heart, and, by the way, count those–it would be a crime–it would be an act of vandalism to disassemble you," He glances over at the Alchemist, "Of course, that won't stop us. Especially not her. She'll probably keep the pieces."

The Time Lords raise their sonic screwdrivers simultaneously, ready to investigate further–but before they can act, the android vanishes in a sudden, blinding beam of light.

The Alchemist lowers her sonic, groaning, "Well, that'll stop us."

"Short-range teleport," the Doctor mutters, scanning the air with his screwdriver, "Can't have gone far. Could still be on board."

"What is it?" Rose asks, her voice tinged with unease.

"Stay here," the Alchemist calls over her shoulder, already moving, "And don't go looking for it!"

The Time Lords head back to the fireplace, their strides purposeful.

Rose throws up her hands, "Where are you going now ?"

"Back in a sec," the Doctor replies, barely glancing back.

Reaching the fireplace, the Alchemist takes the lead this time. With a deft motion, she flips the switch, and the fireplace begins to rotate once more, carrying the couple out of sight.

[Reinette's Bedchamber]

The room greets them with the golden glow of a summer afternoon. Sunlight streams through the wide windows, illuminating the subtle changes in the decor—the once-childish touches replaced with elegant furnishings.

The Alchemist pauses, scanning the room with a tilted head, "Need to get a man in," she murmurs, running her hand along the edge of the mantelpiece, "Definitely not winter anymore."

The Doctor steps further in, calling out tentatively, "Reinette? Just checking you're okay."

They share a look, their expressions mirroring a mix of curiosity and caution. As he walks toward a harp standing by the window, the Doctor plucks a few experimental notes. The Alchemist hums in harmony, rocking on her heels to the soft melody.

"Ahem."

The sound of someone clearing their throat makes them both turn abruptly. Standing in the doorway is a poised young woman, her dress flowing with subtle grace.

"Oh. Hello," the Doctor says, his words tumbling out, "Uh, we were just looking for Reinette. This is still her room, isn't it? We've been away, not sure how long…"

Before the woman can respond, a voice calls from somewhere beyond the doorway, "Reinette! We're ready to go."

The young woman turns her head slightly and replies, "Go to the carriage, Mother. I will join you shortly," she steps further into the room, her gaze assessing the pair, "It is customary, I think, to have imaginary friends only during one's childhood. You are to be congratulated on your persistence."

The Doctor blinks, momentarily at a loss, "Reinette! Well. Goodness, how you've grown."

The Alchemist offers a radiant smile, "And look how lovely you are, Little Queen!"

Reinette's lips quirk, "And you do not appear to have aged a single day. That is tremendously impolite of you."

The Doctor shifts awkwardly, "Right, yes, sorry. Listen, lovely to catch up, but better be off, eh? Don't want your mother finding you up here with a strange man and lady, do we?"

"Strange?" Reinette's eyes glint with humor, "How could you be strangers to me? I've known you since I was seven years old."

"Yeah, I suppose you have," the Doctor concedes, "We came the quick route."

The Alchemist chuckles lightly, "We often do, don't we, love?"

Reinette moves closer, "You seem to be flesh and blood, at any rate, but this is absurd. Reason tells me you cannot be real."

The Doctor laughs, "Oh, you never want to listen to reason."

"Certainly not," the Alchemist agrees with a playful wink, "Keep imagination alive."

"Mademoiselle! Your mother grows impatient," a servant calls from the hall.

Reinette glances toward the door, replying quickly, "A moment!" She turns back to the pair, "...So many questions. So little time."

Without warning, she steps closer to the Alchemist, her movements deliberate yet graceful. Before the Time Lady can react, Reinette kisses her, pushing her back against the wall.

The Doctor's jaw drops, his expression a blend of astonishment and barely contained irritation.

The kiss lingers a moment too long, leaving the Alchemist frozen in shock. Reinette pulls away with a satisfied smile and dashes out of the room, her skirts swirling behind her.

The Time Lords exchange wide-eyed looks, his gaze darting between them in confusion.

The Alchemist gapes, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

The Doctor finds his voice first, launching into a frantic tangent, "Poisson? Reinette Poisson? No! No, no, no, no, no way. Reinette Poisson? Later Madame Etoiles? Later still mistress of Louis the Fifteenth, uncrowned Queen of France? Actress, artist, musician, dancer, courtesan, fantastic gardener!"

"Who the hell are you!?" a servant demands from the doorway, his face twisting in alarm.

"I'm the Doctor," the Time Lord replies with a manic grin, "And my wife just snogged Madame de Pompadour. Ha, ha!" he pauses, his grin faltering, "Although I'm still not quite happy about it."

The Alchemist pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering, "I did say she was a Little Queen. I knew exactly who she was."

Her grimace is matched only by the Doctor's awkward attempt to mask his irritation.

[Fireplace Room]

The Doctor groans as he tumbles off the rotating fireplace, landing with a stumble. The Alchemist, unlike her Bondmate, steps off easily. He straightens, brushing off his jacket and glancing around the room, now noticeably devoid of their companions.

"Rose! Mickey!" he bellows, " Every time!"

He throws his hands up in frustration, spinning in place as though expecting them to appear out of thin air.

The Alchemist rolls her eyes in visible frustration, crossing her arms as she leans against the wall.

"They never listen, but they usually know the rules first," she mutters, a sharp edge in her tone.

The Doctor turns to her, "Oh. 'Cause you're such an authority on people doing what they're told?"

She raises a brow, "I'd say 'touché,' but I'm very good darling sometimes, Sir Doctor. "

Gaping, the Time Lord attempts to come up with a rebuttal, settling on, "Ally!"

[Spaceship]

The Doctor grumbles under his breath, "Every time, it's Rule one. Don't wander off. I tell them, I do. Rule one. There could be anything on this ship."

"Well, maybe if we sat them down and actually told them the full Rule one, they might listen," the Alchemist sasses back, her tone sharp as she gives him a sideways glance.

He winces, realizing she's right, but he doesn't want to admit it.

She sighs heavily, "We always told them after at least three trips, just to see how they react on their own. We'll do the same with Mickey and tell them together."

Before the Doctor can respond, a soft sound drifts to them–a gentle neigh, followed by the clip-clop of hooves. They both turn toward the sound, and their eyes widen in surprise.

A stunning white horse, its coat gleaming, stands behind them, a pristine bridle and saddle adorning its back. Its large, intelligent eyes seem to shimmer with an eerie calm as it stands in the corridor, waiting.

The Alchemist's grin spreads wide across her face, her mood lightening instantly. She takes a few steps toward the horse, her eyes alight with excitement.

Feeling the shift in her mood, the Doctor points a stern finger at her and says, "No."

The Alchemist's expression falls, her lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout, "Oh, come on," she protests, hands on hips, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "It's a beautiful horse."

"No," the Time Lord repeats.

[Corridor]

"Rose?" the Doctor calls out again, his voice echoing down the corridors.

"Mickey?" The Alchemist's voice rings with concern as she follows, glancing around, trying to locate their missing companions, "I could have sworn I just heard them. This place is echoing and throwing me off."

The Doctor stops in his tracks, turning to see the white horse trailing silently behind them, its hooves making soft echoes on the metallic floor. He raises an eyebrow, his hands on his hips.

"Will you stop following us? I'm not your mother," he complains.

"And I'm not your father, but I wouldn't mind having a horse," the Alchemist muses aloud, her eyes twinkling mischievously, "I'll even let you name him."

The Doctor looks at her in disbelief, "That's because you're terrible at names, and no, we're not getting a horse, Alchemist."

Her lips twist in mock offense, a pout forming on her face, "I let you keep Rose."

The Doctor snorts in amusement, "Are our companions pets now?"

"Well, she does try to get in everywhere… not too far off, I think," she quips, making him laugh harder than he expected.

They continue walking, the horse's soft footsteps growing faint behind them. The Doctor glances at her every few moments, a curious look crossing his face.

"So..." he trails off.

"So…?" she replies in kind.

"Better kisser? Me or Madame de Pompadour?"

The Alchemist rolls her eyes dramatically, "You," she replies without hesitation, "She shoved her tongue down my throat and was very interested in my tongue ring. We've got centuries of experience, and that was... well, awkward is a word."

The Doctor laughs, but there's a slight growl of possessiveness in his tone, "Yep, that's certainly one word for what it was."

"And it will not be repeated," she reminds him, which makes him grin in return.

The Alchemist tilts her head before she skips ahead. She reaches for a pair of white wooden doors and opens them with a flourish. Sunlight floods into the corridor from the outside, casting a warm, golden hue over the ship's interior.

The Doctor's eyes light up in surprise.

"So, this is where you came from, eh, horsey?" he says, gesturing to the bright light beyond the doors.

[Versailles Gardens]

Reinette walks through the lush gardens, the soft rustling of the leaves blending with the delicate clink of her parasol as she laughs with Katherine, the two women strolling side by side in their matching gowns. The sun casts dappled light through the trees, and the air is rich with the scent of blooming flowers.

"Oh, Katherine, you are too wicked," Reinette says with a delighted laugh.

Katherine glances at her with a teasing smile, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, speaking of wicked, I hear Madame de Chateauroux is ill and close to death."

Reinette's responds with a soft nod, "Yes. I am devastated."

Katherine's gaze sharpens with a knowing look, "Oh, indeed. I myself am frequently inconsolable. The King will, therefore, be requiring a new mistress. You love the King, of course?"

Reinette nods, "He is the King, and I love him with all my heart. And I look forward to meeting him."

Hidden behind a stone urn, tucked against the stone wall, the Doctor and the Alchemist quietly observe the two women, careful not to be seen. The Doctor's eyes narrow, focused on Reinette as she converses with Katherine. The quiet chirp of a peacock breaks the silence, and as if on cue, Reinette turns her head in the direction of the sound. The Time Lords duck.

'That peacock cursed at me!' the Doctor complains.

The Alchemist chuckles silently in his mind, ' Apparently, French peacocks are very rude and mouthy! '

Katherine, noticing Reinette's distracted look, raises an eyebrow, "Is something wrong, my dear?"

Reinette smiles knowingly, having spotted the familiar ginger hair. She glances back for just a moment but then turns her gaze to Katherine with a quiet, conspiratorial air.

"Not wrong, no," she says lightly.

Katherine lowers her voice, "Every woman in Paris knows your ambitions."

"Every woman in Paris shares them."

"You know, of course, that the King is to attend the Yew Tree ball?"

"As am I," Reinette adds, as she casts one last glance at the bushes where the Doctor and Alchemist are hidden.

[Corridor]

"Maybe it wasn't a real heart," Mickey says hopefully.

Rose rolls her eyes, "Course it was a real heart."

"Is this, like, normal for you? Is this an average day?" Mickey asks.

"Life with Time Lords, Mickey? No more average days," Rose smirks.

They stop and glance through a massive window, catching sight of something outside.

"It's France again. We can see France," Mickey says, gaping in disbelief.

Rose nods, narrowing her eyes as she squints at the scene, "I think we're looking through a mirror."

A man steps into the visible room, flanked by two men. He adjusts his clothes and wig as he approaches the mirror on his side of the wall.

Mickey laughs, "Blimey, look at this guy. Who does he think he is?"

"The King of France," the Doctor dryly informs him.

"Louis the 15th specifically," the Alchemist calls out from above.

Rose rolls her eyes, "Oh, here's trouble. What you been up to?"

The Doctor shrugs, "Oh, this and that. Became the imaginary friends of a future French aristocrat, picked a fight with a clockwork man. Ally did some spectacular gymnastics per usual."

The horse neighs from behind him.

The Alchemist grins and slides off the saddle, "Oh, and we met a horse. Lovely horse at that. Better question: what part of 'stay here' did you not understand?"

Mickey gives a half-shrug, "Rose's idea. What's a horse doing on a spaceship?"

"Mickey, what's pre-Revolutionary France doing on a spaceship? Get a little perspective," the Doctor scoffs.

"Actually, it's a valid question; it proves that something from there can come here, love," the Alchemist points out, "Anyway, see these?" she gestures, "They're all over the place. On every deck. Gateways to history. But not just any old history..."

Mickey hides a smile as the Doctor nods in acknowledgment of the point.

They continue watching as Reinette enters the room, curtseying low to the King when he turns to her.

"...Hers," the Doctor continues, "Time windows deliberately arranged along the life of one particular woman. A spaceship from the 51st century stalking a woman from the 18th. Why?"

"Who is she?" Rose asks.

The Time Lady tilts her head, a soft smile forming, "Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson, known to her friends as Reinette. One of the most accomplished women who ever lived. Fabulous taste and absolutely brilliant mind."

Rose hums thoughtfully, "So, has she got plans of being the Queen, then?"

"No, he's already got a Queen," the Doctor informs her, "She's got plans of being his mistress."

Rose scoffs, "Oh, I get it. Camilla."

The Doctor ignores the remark, "I think this is the night they met. The night of the Yew Tree ball. In no time flat, she'll get herself established as his official mistress, with her own rooms at the palace. Even her own title. Madame de Pompadour."

They watch as the King and his entourage leave the room, and Reinette steps forward to check her own reflection in the mirror.

"The Queen must have loved her," Rose mumbles.

The Time Lord shrugs, "Oh, she did. They get on very well."

"The King's wife and the King's girlfriend?" Mickey asks.

The Doctor nods, "France. It's a different planet."

Rose scoffs again, but the Alchemist chimes in, her voice full of fondness. "I adore it for good reason. The people there are very understanding. Also, the food's great... and fashion and art... and..." she trails off before a hand clamps over her mouth.

"Shush," the Doctor says, exasperated, before rolling his eyes as she licks his palm.

The Time Lord drops his hand and wipes it off on her dress, shaking his head as the Alchemist grins, unbothered.

[Versailles Room]

Reinette gasps in the mirror and turns to see a figure standing in the corner of the room.

"How long have you been standing there? Show yourself!" Reinette demands.

It steps into view, revealing itself to be one of the clockwork androids–this time, dressed in a gown.

The Doctor grabs the fire extinguisher from Mickey, rotates the mirror, and leaps through.

"Hello, Reinette. Hasn't time flown?" he says with a grin.

Reinette gasps, "Fireplace man!"

Wasting no time, the Doctor sprays the android with the extinguisher, covering it in ice. He tosses the extinguisher back through the mirror, and Mickey catches it. The Alchemist jumps through just as the android begins to creak ominously.

"Fireplace Lady!" Reinette exclaims.

The android creaks louder, and steam starts to hiss from its joints.

"What's it doing?" Mickey asks.

"Switching back on," the Alchemist explains. "Melting the ice."

"And then what?" Mickey presses.

The Doctor shrugs, "Then it kills everyone in the room. Focuses the mind, doesn't it?"

The Alchemist steps forward, her tone sharp. "Who are you? Identify yourself," she glances at Reinette. "Reinette, order it to answer us."

Reinette hesitates, "Why should it listen to me?"

The Doctor replies, "We don't know. But it did when you were a child. Let's see if you've still got it."

Summoning her courage, Reinette commands, "Answer their questions. Answer any and all questions put to you."

The android's frozen head jerks slightly as it responds, "I am repair droid seven."

The Alchemist narrows her eyes, "What happened to the ship? There was a lot of damage."

"Ion storm. 82 percent systems failure."

The Doctor frowns, "That ship hasn't moved in over a year. What's taken you so long?"

"We did not have the parts."

Mickey scoffs, "Always comes down to that, doesn't it? The parts."

The Alchemist's voice grows colder, "What happened to the crew? Where are they?"

"We did not have the parts," the droid repeats.

"There should have been over fifty people on that ship. Where did they go?" the Doctor presses.

"We did not have the parts."

The Alchemist grimaces. "Oh, that was the smell. I'm really seeing why I became a vegetarian."

"50 people don't just disappear. Where…" realization dawns on the Time Lord, "Oh… You didn't have the parts, so you used the crew. Maybe I should be a vegetarian, too."

Mickey's face twists in disgust, "The crew?"

Rose nods grimly, "We found a camera with an eye in it. And there was a heart wired into machinery."

The Doctor sighs heavily, "It was just doing what it was programmed to do. Repairing the ship any way it can, with whatever it could find. No one told it the crew weren't on the menu. What did you say the flight deck smelled like?"

Rose winces. "Someone cooking."

"I did say it smelled like burning flesh," the Alchemist mutters.

"And you were right," the Doctor says grimly. "Flesh plus heat. Barbecue. But what are you doing here? You've opened up time windows. That takes colossal energy. Why come here? You could have gone to your repair yard. Instead, you come to 18th century France? Why?"

"One more part is required," the droid states.

The Doctor frowns. "Then why haven't you taken it?"

"She is incomplete," it replies.

The Time Lord scoffs. "What, so, that's the plan, then. Just keep opening up more and more time windows, scanning her brain, checking to see if she's 'done' yet."

"Why her?" Rose asks. "You've got all of history to choose from. Why specifically her?"

The android responds, "We are the same."

Reinette's voice hardens. "We are not the same. We are in no sense the same."

"We are the same."

"Get out of here! Get out of here this instant!" Reinette shouts, her voice trembling with rage.

"Reinette, no!" the Alchemist cries before stepping forward, placing a comforting hand on Reinette's shoulder, and pulling her into a hug.

The droid teleports away back to the ship.

The Alchemist calls silently, ' We need to check her mind.'

The Doctor nods, ' My turn, then.'

"It's back on the ship," the Doctor says briskly. "Rose, take Mickey and Arthur. Get after it. Follow it. Don't approach it; just watch what it does."

"Arthur?" Rose asks incredulously.

"Good name for a horse," he grins.

Rose rolls her eyes. "No, you're not keeping the horse."

The Doctor gestures toward the Alchemist, "Ally wants the horse, and I let you keep Mickey. Now go! Go! Go!"

The Alchemist scowls as Rose and Mickey leave. "You just used my line!"

"Live with it, Ally. You get a horse out of the deal," he turns to Reinette, "Reinette, you're going to have to trust me. I need to find out what they're looking for. There's only one way I can do that. It won't hurt a bit."

Reinette looks nervous but nods. The Doctor places his hands on her temples.

Reinette gasps, "Fireplace man, you are inside my mind."

The Doctor grimaces as he concentrates. "Oh dear, Reinette. You've had some cowboys in here."

[Corridor]

"So, that Doctor, eh?" Mickey asks with a smirk.

Rose huffs, "What are you talking about?"

"Well. Madame de Pompadour. Sarah Jane Smith. Cleopatra. Married."

She grits her teeth, "Sarah Jane's like his sister. Cleopatra. He mentioned her once. And I get it, Mickey, I get it. They're married and Bonded."

He smirks, "Yeah, but they both called her Cleo."

"Mickey!" she shouts.

An android sneaks up on Mickey from behind, seizing him by the throat, while another one captures Rose. They swiftly administer a chemical that renders them unconscious.

[Versailles Room]

"You are in my memories. You walk among them."

"If there's anything you don't want me to see, just imagine a door and close it. I won't look. Oh, actually, there's a door just there. You might want to cl... Oh, actually, several," The Time Lord's voice squeaks, his focus faltering.

Reinette smirks, peeking open an eye before closing it again.

"To walk among the memories of another living soul... Do you ever get used to this?" she asks, her voice tinged with wonder.

He frowns in concentration, "I don't make a habit of it. Only ever with my wife."

"How can you resist?"

"What age are you?" he asks abruptly, trying to focus.

Reinette smiles coyly, "Such an impertinent question so early in the conversation. How promising."

"Not my question. Theirs," he mutters, "You're 23, and for some reason, that means you're not old enough," he sighs as Reinette gasps, "Sorry. You might find old memories reawakening–a side effect."

Reinette sighs, her voice softening. "Oh, such a lonely childhood."

"It'll pass. Stay with me," the Doctor encourages, his voice steadier now.

"Oh, Doctor. So lonely..." she whispers.

His brows furrow in confusion, "What do you mean, alone? You've never been alone in your life. When did you start calling me Doctor?"

"So very, very alone," Reinette murmurs, her voice growing wistful. "Until you met her eyes."

"Met eyes!?" he nearly shouts, his focus breaking completely.

Reinette continues, "Such a lonely little boy. But fell in true love at first sight. Your Bondmate, your wife, your defender–The Alchemist. Lady Ally."

The Doctor recoils, breaking the mind link, stumbling slightly as he backs up toward his Bondmatet.

"How did you do that?" he demands.

"A door, once opened, can be stepped through in either direction," Reinette replies with an enigmatic smile, "Oh, Doctor. My lonely Doctor. Dance with me," She steps toward him with intent.

He shakes his head vehemently, retreating slightly, "I can't. I won't."

Reinette turns her gaze to the Alchemist, her expression softening, "Dance with me."

"This is the night you dance with the King," the Doctor says firmly.

Reinette smirks, her eyes gleaming with mischief, "Then first, I shall make him jealous."

The Time Lady instinctively looks for an escape, but the Doctor unwittingly blocks her path.

"I can't, I'm…" he starts, only to be interrupted.

"Hm... Who says I wanted to dance with you?" Reinette teases, her smirk growing as she reaches for the Alchemist's hand.

The Time Lady hesitates, glancing at the Doctor,

"Doctor. Doctor who? Who's the Alchemist? It's more than just a secret, isn't it?"

"What did you see?" he demands, his voice tense.

"What did you see, Reinette?" the Alchemist echoes, her tone quieter but no less urgent.

Reinette sighs, "That there comes a time, Time Lords, when every lonely little boy must learn how to dance, and every lovely little girl must remember how beautiful they are."

The Alchemist freezes, her breath catching. How could Reinette possibly know that?

"Come, Lady Ally," Reinette says, her tone insistent and light, "I shall have you to myself for a moment to put you in a gown. And I know exactly which one."

Before the Alchemist can protest, Reinette takes her hand.

The Doctor watches in bewildered silence as Reinette pulls the Alchemist away, her words lingering in the air like the toll of a bell. His hearts thud uneasily in his chest, the bond with his wife flickering with an undercurrent of distress.

"Reinette," he calls after them, his voice steady but laced with concern, "This isn't…"

Reinette glances back over her shoulder, "Doctor, you trust me, don't you? I will take good care of her. We'll be back shortly."

The Alchemist glances at him briefly, her eyes wide with unspoken emotions, before following Reinette through a set of grand doors. The bond whispers her unease, but she allows herself to be led, curiosity and courtesy prevailing for the moment.

The Doctor runs a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. "How did she do that? Stepping through my memories like they're an open book, and now Ally..." He exhales sharply, frustration and worry mingling.

[Reinette's Chambers]

The Alchemist hesitates as Reinette gestures toward an ornate wardrobe.

"You don't need to do this," the Time Lady says uncertainly, "I'm not... this isn't my place."

Reinette smiles knowingly, "Nonsense. You are far more than you believe yourself to be. And tonight, you must see that for yourself."

She pulls open the wardrobe, revealing an array of dazzling gowns, each more exquisite than the last.

The Alchemist's eyes widen, "These... they're beautiful."

"Choose one," Reinette urges gently, "Or, if you will allow me, I shall choose for you."

The Time Lady hesitates but eventually nods, her curiosity piqued. Without hesitation, Reinette selects a gown of deep forest green silk, the fabric shimmering with bright pink bows and ribbon edging the ruffles down the front and trailing to the skirts. Delicate white lace billows out at the elbows.

As she helps the Alchemist into the gown, Reinette speaks softly, "You and the Doctor share something unique. A bond deeper than words, beyond time itself."

The Time Lady stiffens slightly but remains silent, unsure of how to respond.

Reinette continues, "I saw it when I walked through his mind. The way he thinks of you, the way you anchor him. You are his strength, his joy, his home."

The Alchemist swallows hard, her voice a whisper, "He's my everything."

"And yet, you doubt yourself. Why?"

"It's not doubt," the Time Lady replies after a pause, "It's... the weight of it all. Being the one he leans on, the one who stands beside him through everything. Sometimes, it's overwhelming. I'm not as strong as I was… I'm not what I was."

Reinette nods, stepping back to admire her handiwork, "You carry it well, Lady Ally, that weight. And you are not what you think you are. You are not one of the monsters from under my bed. Tonight, I hope you will see yourself as he sees you–a star–burning brighter than all the rest."

The Alchemist glances at her reflection in the ornate golden-framed mirror. The gown fits perfectly, accentuating her graceful figure. She looks... different. Almost like someone she used to be, someone she'd forgotten.

Reinette moves closer, her hands gently resting on the Alchemist's shoulders, "I see a beautiful woman before me. Not just a Time Lady but a truly gorgeous, courageous, and kind soul. A defender, an ally. One who has helped save me from the time I was a child. A woman I admired so greatly I couldn't help but kiss, although now, knowing how you two feel about that, I suppose I should have tried to refrain.

"And someone so deeply loved that it's written in every thought of his," her voice softens, "He calls you his 'darling beauty,' even when you bury your reaction to it. You must see what he sees, for you are beautiful beyond measure."

She holds up the Alchemist's ring hand and then shows it to her in the foiled glass.

"I see what this ring is and holds. Fleur de lis. Light, protection, and love... as well as perfection. Beautiful perfection," she tells her.

The Alchemist's eyes grow glassy, the weight of Reinette's words pressing against her hearts.

Reinette fetches a small bouquet of pink flowers from a nearby vase and pins them into the Alchemist's hair with delicate precision, "Pink," she murmurs. "Like rose petals. My favorite color."

The Alchemist smiles faintly, meeting Reinette's eyes in the mirror, "It speaks of femininity, romance, and beauty–graceful and full of charm. Like you, Little Queen."

Reinette smiles, "That is me, then? The graceful, charming Little Queen?"

"That is you," the Alchemist confirms with a soft laugh.

"Perhaps after all this, we shall have tea from a petal-pink tea set, hmm?"

The Time Lady chuckles, "Perhaps we shall. But first, it seems we have a mission."

"Yes," Reinette agrees, adjusting the skirts of the forest green gown one last time, "We must dance. And make your love and my hopeful one jealous."

Hand in hand, the two women step out of the chambers, the Alchemist feeling a spark of something new and long-forgotten awakening within her.

[Versailles Ballroom]

The pair linger near the doors, waiting for the right moment. As the final notes of the last dance fade, they slip into the room, unnoticed amidst the flurry of departing dancers.

The Alchemist tilts her head, her bond whispering the presence of her Bondmate in a shadowed corner.

"Shall we, Lady Ally?" Reinette asks lightly.

The Alchemist curtsies deeply, Reinette following suit with graceful precision. Their hands meet, and they step onto the polished floor as the first strains of the next orchestral and harpsichord piece fill the air.

"Ah, I'd forgotten you still danced the minuet," the Alchemist murmurs, her steps swift and fluid as they weave through the opening movements.

Reinette smiles knowingly. "And yet, you're excellent at it. He's watching, you know."

"I know," the Alchemist replies, her gaze flickering beyond, "They both are, Reinette."

The Time Lady's eyes catch the King's, and she raises her brows, tipping her head ever so slightly toward her partner. The King smirks, intrigued, and excuses himself from his gathering.

The Doctor, noting the King's movement, stiffens. His nostrils flare as he begins threading his way through the swirling dancers, his focus locked on the Alchemist.

Sensing the dual approaches, the Alchemist's lips curl into a sly smile. With a daring flourish, she spins Reinette into a graceful twirl, delivering her seamlessly into the King's arms. Reinette gasps in delight, her laughter trailing behind her as the Alchemist turns to face her Bondmate.

"Hello, love," she greets him brightly, stepping into his lead.

The Doctor exhales a long sigh. "I thought he was going to…"

"As if I'd let that happen," she interrupts mischievously, "I have everything I need right here."

His hand tightens at her waist, and he leans closer, "You look phenomenal," he whispers, his voice low and reverent in her ear.

The Alchemist flushes, glancing down at the shimmering folds of her gown before lifting her chin with renewed confidence, "I do, don't I? I'm beautiful."

The Doctor pulls back slightly, his eyes wide with surprise before they crinkle with delight. A slow grin spreads across his face.

"And you believe me," he murmurs.

"And I believe you," she echoes, her words steady, her smile radiant as the music swells around them.

[Spaceship Chop House]

Rose and Mickey are strapped to metal tables across from the TARDIS, surrounded by gleaming, emotionless androids.

Rose blinks awake, disoriented, "What's going on? Doctor?"

Mickey's voice cuts through the tension, his head pinned down by restraints. "They're going to chop us up and stick us all over their stupid spaceship. And where's Ally? Where's the Doctor? Where's your precious Doctor now? He's been gone for flipping hours; that's where he is! Even Ally's gone!"

A mechanical voice cuts through his panic: "You are compatible."

Rose defiantly says, "You might want to think about that. Really, really think about that. Because Mickey and me? We didn't come here alone. Oh no. And trust me, you wouldn't want to mess with our designated drivers!"

An android steps forward, a blade extending from its arm, spinning ominously.

Rose presses on, "Ever heard of the Daleks? Remember them? They had names for our friends. Myths about them. They called him the…"

She stops short as loud crashes echo from the corridor, followed by giggles and horribly off-key singing.

"I could've danced all night, I could've danced all night…" the Doctor croons terribly.

"Love, come on, you really shouldn't–oof!" a female voice chimes in, cutting off in a laugh.

"They called him the...They called him the..." Rose trails off.

Rose's eyes widen as the Doctor dances into the room, tie wrapped around his head, sunglasses askew, and a golden goblet in hand. The Alchemist, still wearing her elegant gown, is draped over his shoulder, laughing.

"The..."

"And still have begged for more!" the Doctor gasps, spinning in delight, "Have you met the French? My God, they know how to party!"

He finally places the Alchemist on her feet. She straightens her skirts, rolling her eyes at him as Rose glares.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Rose says dryly. "The Oncoming Storm carrying the Scarlet Tsunami."

The Doctor scoffs, "You sound just like your mother."

"What've you been doing? Where've you been?" Rose demands.

The Alchemist opens her mouth to answer, but the Doctor grabs her hand, spinning her into an impromptu dance.

"Well, among other things," he says, "I think I just invented the banana daiquiri a few centuries early. Do you know they've never even seen a banana before? Always take a banana to a party, Rose. Bananas are good."

As he twirls the Alchemist, they move closer to one of the androids. The Doctor halts abruptly, his grin widening.

"Oh ho, ho, ho, ho, brilliant. It's you! You're my favorite; you are. You are the best! Do you know why? Because you're so thick. You're Mister Thick Thick Thickity Thick Face from Thicktown, Thickania," he pokes the droid, "And so's your dad."

The android stares impassively.

The Alchemist steps up, "You're scanning Reinette's brain, aren't you? To see how old she is? You think that when she's 37, she'll be complete, and her brain will be compatible with this ship. That's what you're missing: a command circuit. Your ship needs a brain, and for some bizarre reason, only the brain of Madame de Pompadour will do."

"Her brain is compatible," the android confirms.

The Doctor scoffs, holding up his goblet, "Compatible? If you believe that, you probably believe this is a glass of wine."

With a flourish, he pulls off the android's mask and pours the goblet's contents into its exposed circuits. It seizes up immediately.

"Multigrain anti-oil," the Alchemist quips, flipping a switch on the console, "If it moves, it doesn't. You. Are. Stuck."

The Doctor claps his hands together, "Right, you two, that's enough lying about. Time we got the rest of the ship turned off."

Using the sonic, the Time Lords quickly free Mickey and Rose.

"Are those things safe?" Mickey asks, eyeing the android warily.

"Safe and thick," the Doctor replies, rummaging in his pockets, "Way I like them. Okay. All the time windows are controlled from here. We need to close them all down. Zeus plugs–where are my Zeus plugs? I had them a minute ago."

The Alchemist arches a brow, "You were using them as castanets earlier. I told you not to."

Rose interrupts, "Why didn't they just open a window to when she's 37?"

"With these circuits? They're lucky they hit the right century," the Alchemist says, scanning the console.

The Doctor nods, "Trial and error after that. The windows aren't closing. Why won't they close?"

A bell goes off, echoing through the room.

"What's that?" Rose asks.

"I don't know. An incoming message?" The Tine Lord guesses.

"From who?" Mickey asks.

The Alchemist says, checking the console, "It's a report from the field. One of them's still out there with Reinette. That's why we can't close the windows–there's an override."

The deactivated android sputters back to life, spraying anti-oil out its finger onto the floor and the Doctor's shoe.

"Well, that was clever," he mutters, grimacing.

The androids' off switch flips back to "on."

"Right," the Doctor says, narrowing his eyes, "Many things about this are not good. Message from one of your little friends? Anything interesting?"

"She is complete. It begins," the android states before teleporting away.

"What's happening?" Rose asks, alarmed.

"One of them found the right time window," the Doctor replies grimly, "Now it's time to send in the troops. And this time, they're bringing back her head."

"Not while I'm around," the Alchemist growls, her fingers flying over the console,

Mickey stares in amazement. "Whoa, you type fast."

"I type as fast as this machine lets me," she snaps, not pausing.

The Doctor peers over her shoulder, "Rose, there's an access point to when she's thirty-two. Here, the tapestry. Go warn her. Tell her to keep talking–it'll give us more time."

Rose hesitates, "But how do I explain all that? She's just…"

"Very bright and will understand if you're clear," the Alchemist interjects, "Now go. "

Rose runs off, and the Alchemist turns to Mickey.

"You're with us. Be ready to grab Rose if anything goes wrong. She's always slow."

With a final glance at the console, they sprint off toward the time window.

[Versailles Music Room]

Rose slips quietly behind the tapestry, spotting Madame de Pompadour standing in the room, her gaze fixed thoughtfully on the piano.

Rose clears her throat softly, "Madame de Pompadour. Please, don't scream or anything. We haven't got a lot of time. I'm here to warn you that they'll be here in five years."

Reinette turns, "Five years?"

Rose nods and steps closer, "Sometime after your 37th birthday. I, uh, I can't give you an exact date. It's a bit random," she rambles, her words tumbling over each other, "But they're coming. It's going to happen. In a way, for us, it's already happening. I'm sorry, it's hard to explain. They do this better."

Reinette tilts her head, her expression firm, "Then be exact, and I will be attentive."

"There isn't time," Rose says, frustrated.

Reinette raises a brow, "There are five years. And according to Lady Ally, there is always time."

"For you. I haven't got five minutes."

"Then also be concise."

Rose rubs her temples, her nerves fraying, "Uh, there's, say, a vessel, a ship… a sort of sky ship. And it's full of–well–you. Different bits of your life in different rooms, all jumbled up. I told you it was complicated. Sorry."

Reinette's expression doesn't change as she replies, "There is a vessel in your world where the days of my life are pressed together like the chapters of a book. So that they may step from one to the other without increase in age, while I, the weary traveler, must always take the slower path."

Rose stares at her, wide-eyed, "She was right about you."

Reinette inclines her head, "So, in five years, these creatures will return. What can be done?"

"The Doctor says keep them talking," Rose replies, shakily, "They're kind of programmed to respond to you now. You won't be able to stop them, but you might be able to delay them a bit."

"Until?" Reinette prompts.

"Until the Doctor can get there," Rose says.

Reinette purses her lips, "He's coming, then? And what of my Lady Ally?"

Rose hesitates, looking away, "He promises… and so does she."

"But they cannot make these promises in person?" Reinette studies her closely, "You do not care for her, do you?"

Rose swallows hard, "They'll be there when you need them. That's the way it's got to be. And Ally… well, uhm, it's complicated."

Reinette raises her chin, her tone sharpening, "Then uncomplicate it. They love each other. He cannot find love in you. It's the way it's been for a very long time. The Monsters and the Angels… It seems you cannot have one without the other. She is his angel—and she is his wings."

Rose winces, swallowing hard, "That's not the point."

"Isn't it, then what is?"

"I... well, the thing is… you weren't supposed to have either," Rose frowns, trying to push back her alarm, "Those creatures are messing with history. None of this was ever supposed to happen to you."

Reinette's expression hardens, " Supposed to happen? What does that mean? It happened, child. And I would not have it any other way. One may tolerate a world full of demons for the sake of an angel, and I have two."

"Rose? Rose!" Mickey's voice echoes from the corridor, breaking the tension.

Rose glances back toward the sound, her heart pounding as she meets Reinette's steady gaze.

[Versailles corridor]

Reinette and Rose head into the corridor, and Mickey comes out from behind a tapestry.

"Rose! The time window where she's 37. We found it. Right under our noses," Mickey tells her.

Mickey is still holding back the tapestry, and Reinette, curious, ducks under and out of it.

"No, you can't go in there, the Doctor will go mad…!" Rose tells her, alarmed.

[Spaceship Corridor]

"So, this is their world," Reinette breathes.

In the distance, faint screams of terror pierce the air.

"What was that?" Reinette asks, alarmed.

Mickey glances at her, his expression grim, "The time window. They fixed an audio link."

Reinette's lips press into a thin line as she swallows hard, "Those screams… is that my future?"

Rose hesitates, "Yeah… I'm sorry."

Reinette nods slowly, "Then I must take the slower path."

A voice cuts through the eerie tension—older, desperate, and hauntingly familiar.

"Are you there? Can you hear me? I need you now. You promised. The clock on the mantle is broken. It is time."

Reinette stiffens, "That's… my voice."

Mickey's urgency grows as he turns toward them, "Rose, come on. We've got to go. There's–there's a problem."

"Give me a moment," Rose replies, her gaze still locked on Reinette.

Mickey hesitates but nods, running off toward the Time Lords.

Rose steps closer, "Are you okay?"

Reinette shakes her head, "No. I'm very afraid. But you and I both know, don't we, Rose? The Doctor is worth the monsters," she pauses, her eyes blazing with conviction as she continues, "But be aware: he fights only for her. And she… she is entirely worth the battle."

Reinette holds Rose's gaze for a long moment, the fire in her eyes refusing to waver, before turning sharply and slipping behind the tapestry.

Rose stands frozen, her mind spinning, until the distant cry of an older Reinette pulls her back.

"Alchemist! Doctor! " the voice echoes through the time window, filled with urgency.

Jolted into action, Rose spins on her heel and runs off, calling out for the two Time Lords as she disappears down the corridor.

[Versailles bedchamber]

"Alchemist!" Reinette calls out.

King Louis turns to her, "We must go. No one is coming to help us."

A trio of clockwork androids enters.

"You are complete. You will come," one says.

[Spaceship]

"You found it, then?" Rose asks as she finally approaches.

"They knew we were coming. They blocked it off," the Time Lord says, frustrated.

[Versailles corridor]

"Where are we going?" Reinette demands.

"The teleport has limited range. We must have proximity to the time portal," an Android answers.

She glares ahead, "Your words mean nothing. You are nothing."

The other pair of androids lead King Louis forward

[Spaceship]

The Versailles ballroom glimmers just beyond the glass in the bulkhead, its opulence starkly contrasting the cold, mechanical ship.

Rose gestures toward the scene, her frustration evident. "I don't get it. How come they got in there?"

"They teleported," the Doctor explains, his tone clipped. "You saw them. As long as the ship and the ballroom are linked, their short-range teleports will do the trick."

"Well, we'll go in the TARDIS!" she announces, confident.

The Doctor lets out an exasperated sigh. "We can't use the TARDIS. We're part of events now."

The Alchemist chimes in, her expression serious. "And I can't even jump through using my abilities. It… it doesn't work like that for me yet."

Rose frowns, "How can they not work?"

The Time Lady's sharp glare cuts through Rose's frustration, "Because it's not just teleporting. I'd have to time travel and teleport over three thousand years into the past simultaneously . I haven't learned how to do that yet."

Rose looks down, subdued.

"Well, can't we just smash through?" Mickey suggests, glancing at the bulkhead.

The Alchemist's head snaps up at his words, her mind already spinning with theories and ideas.

The Doctor tugs at his hair, pacing. "Hyperplex this side, plate glass the other. We need a truck."

"We don't have a truck," Mickey mutters, noticing the Alchemist's expression shift.

The Doctor spins on him, annoyed. "I know we don't have a truck!"

"Well, we've got to try something!" Rose insists, her voice rising.

The Doctor stares at the barrier, shaking his head. "No. Smash the glass, smash the time window. There'd be no way back."

The Alchemist steps forward, her voice calm but resolute. "There may not be a way back this way, but there's always a way in ."

Before anyone can respond, she whistles sharply. The sound echoes through the ship, and moments later, the unmistakable rhythm of hooves reverberates through the corridor.

Mickey's jaw drops. "Is that..."

"Horse power," she says with a faint smile as Arthur gallops into view. She swings herself into the saddle with practiced ease, extending a hand toward the Doctor.

"Genius," he murmurs, taking her hand and climbing up behind her.

"You can't be serious!" Rose cries, her voice tinged with panic.

"Could everyone just calm down? Please?" Reinette's voice implores, steady despite the chaos.

The Alchemist pulls the reins gently, pacing Arthur in a wide circle to gain momentum. "This is life and death, Rose Tyler. It is serious."

With a determined glint in her eye, she leans forward, and Arthur begins to charge toward the glass, his hooves pounding like thunder as the Alchemist and the Doctor prepare for the leap.

[Versaille Ballroom]

Reinette straightens her posture, her regal composure unwavering.

"Such commotion. Such distressing noise. Kindly remember that this is Versailles. This is the Royal Court, and we are French. I have made a decision, and my decision is no. I shall not be going with you today. I have seen your world, and I have no desire to set foot there again."

"We do not require your feet," an android intones coldly.

Two androids dressed in elegant gowns seize Reinette, forcing her to her knees as they grip her arms.

Her glare is unflinching. "You think I fear you, but I do not. Even now. You are merely the nightmare of my childhood. The monster from under my bed. And if my nightmare can return to plague me, then rest assured–so will yours."

Distantly, a horse neighs, and a loud crash shatters the tension as the mirror above the mantelpiece explodes into glittering fragments. Arthur, the horse, bursts through the opening, carrying the Doctor and the Alchemist on his back.

The Doctor dismounts with a flourish, extending a hand to help his wife down. "Madame de Pompadour, you look younger every day," he greets warmly.

King Louis, frozen in shock, finds his voice. "What the hell is going on?"

Reinette smirks despite the chaos.

"Oh. This is my lover, the King of France," she says casually.

The Alchemist lands gracefully and casts Louis a pointed glance.

"Yeah? Hello, Louis, King of France," her tone is sharp as a blade.

The Doctor steps forward, addressing the room, "We're the Lord and Lady of Time, and we're here to fix the clock," he announces.

The Alchemist moves swiftly, yanking the mask off the android threatening Reinette. Its blade whirs dangerously close to her throat, but she doesn't even flinch.

"Forget it," the Doctor declares, his voice resolute. "It's over–for you and for us. Talk about seven years bad luck… try three thousand."

All eyes shift to the mantle, where the time portal once glowed. In its place is nothing but a solid brick wall.

[Spaceship]

Mickey stares at the bulkhead, "What happened? Where did the time window go? How're they going to get back?"

Rose remains silent, a single tear tracing down her cheek.

[Ballroom]

The Doctor's voice booms, filling the ballroom. "The link with the ship is broken. There's no way back. You don't have the parts. How many ticks left in that clockwork heart, huh? A day? An hour? It's over. Accept that. I'm not winding you up."

"And I'm taking you apart," the Alchemist adds, her voice like steel.

The androids begin to audibly wind down. One collapses backward, shattering as it hits the floor.

Reinette looks around, her eyes wide, "What's happened to them?"

"They've stopped," the Doctor explains gently, "They have no purpose now."

The Alchemist crouches by one of the fallen droids, plucking a few intricate pieces from its inner workings and slipping them into the Doctor's left jacket pocket.

She pulls out her sonic, gives the remaining androids a quick zap, and watches as they all fall apart, their components scattering like discarded toys.

Spinning the sonic deftly in her hand, she blows on the tip like a gunslinger and tucks it away–nestling it back between her breasts.

"Remind me to get pockets for the next ballgown I wear, love," she quips, her smirk playful.

The Doctor and Reinette exchange amused glances, laughter bubbling despite the tension.

[Versailles]

The Doctor and the Alchemist sit close, their hips touching on a wooden bench below the vast, star-filled sky. Two untouched glasses of red wine sit beside them, catching the faint light. They both look upward, lost in the spectacle above.

"We never really look at them from down here," she whispers.

He chuckles lightly, glancing at her, "Well, I suppose we'll have to get used to it."

She leans her head gently onto his shoulder, and the Doctor wraps a comforting arm around her waist, pulling her slightly closer to him.

"You know all their names, don't you? I saw that in your mind. The name of every star. I imagine you both do," Reinette says, her voice soft but curious as she approaches them.

The Doctor smiles, amused, "What's in a name? Names are just titles. Titles don't tell you anything."

Reinette nods, thoughtful. "Like the Doctor. The Alchemist."

"Like Madame de Pompadour," the Time Lords interject.

Reinette sighs, taking a seat next to the Doctor, her gaze still lingering on the stars, "I have often wished to see those stars a little closer. Just as you have, I think."

"From time to time," the Doctor responds, though his tone is less casual than his words.

The Alchemist leans forward slightly, her eyes meeting Reinette's with a knowing smile, "Always, he means."

Reinette lets out a quiet laugh, her eyes sparkling before a moment of silence drifts between them.

She sighs and her voice drops to a more serious note, "In saving me, you trapped yourselves. Did you know that would happen?"

"Mmm. Pretty much," the Doctor replies, his arm tightening around his Bondmate further.

The Time Lady smiles softly, her eyes warm, "It seems so, but I figure there's always a way out of anything at this point."

"Yet, still you came," Reinette whispers, her gaze flicking between them.

The Doctor nods, his voice a mix of fondness and exasperation, "Yeah, we did, didn't we? Catch me doing that again–listening to this one."

"Mmm, sure, love," the Time Lady laughs teasingly.

"There were many doors between my world and yours," Reinette continues, "Can you not use one of the others? Or disappear as you do, Lady Alchemist?"

"I don't have that control yet on my own, and I'm not ready to learn it. When the mirror broke, the links to the ship were all severed," the Alchemist explains with a slight shrug.

"There'll be a few more broken mirrors and torn tapestries around here, I'm afraid, wherever there was a time window," the Doctor adds, a little flustered, "I'll, I'll pay for any damage. Er, that's a thought–I'm going to need money. I was always a bit vague about money. Where do you get money? Oh! Ally has money."

"I have money in a vault here. We'll be fine," the Time Lady giggles.

"So, here you are–my lonely angels, stuck on the slow path with me," Reinette says softly.

The Doctor raises his glass in a gentle toast, "Yep, the slow path. Here's to the slow path."

"The slow path," the Alchemist echoes, her voice equally warm as they all clink their glasses together.

Reinette looks at them, her expression reflective, "It's a pity. I think I would've enjoyed the slow path."

The Doctor raises a brow, "Well, we're not going anywhere."

The Alchemist smiles knowingly, "Yet, it seems someone has a plan."

Reinette stands, her movements are deliberate as she turns to face them both, "I do, Ally. Take my hands, Doctor, Alchemist."

[Reinette's Versailles Bedchamber]

"It's not a copy; it's the original. I had it moved here, and was exact in every detail," Reinette explains, her eyes flicking between them.

The Doctor is stunned, "The fireplace. From your bedroom. When did you do this?"

She shrugs gracefully. "Many years ago, in the hope that a door once opened might someday open again. One never knows when one might need one's Doctor—or for a beautiful woman to change something for the better. It appears undamaged. Do you think it will still work?"

The Alchemist steps closer, examining it carefully, "You broke the bond with the ship when you moved it. That means it was offline when the mirror shattered."

"That's what saved it," the Doctor cuts in, his voice quick with excitement. "But the link is basically physical, and it's still physically here. Which might just mean, if we're lucky—If we're very, very, very, very, very, very lucky…" he trails off, running his fingers along the mantel; he taps the wood and hears it echo, "Ah ha!"

Reinette glances between them, her brow furrowed, "What?"

"He found a loose connection," the Alchemist explains with a small smile.

The Doctor pulls out his sonic screwdriver, waving it confidently.

"Need to get a man in," he quips, summoning his wife over.

But before he can proceed, the Alchemist holds up a hand. "Wait, Doctor. Just a moment." She steps forward and wraps Reinette in a tight embrace, her voice low as she whispers, "Thank you for reminding me that I'm still beautiful."

Reinette pulls back, her eyes soft, and presses a gentle kiss to the Time Lady's cheek before they part.

The Time Lords share a nod, their bond clear as they return their focus to the fireplace.

The Doctor gives the structure a firm thump to get it moving. A distant echo reverberates from within.

"Wish us luck!" the Doctor calls with a grin.

But the Alchemist frowns, her smile fading when she hears Reinette whisper a quiet "No."

The fireplace turns, and in an instant, the Bonded Time Lords are transported back to the ship.

[Fireplace Room]

The Doctor leans over, his voice echoing through the fireplace, "Madame de Pompadour! Still want to see those stars?"

Reinette, standing in her room on the other side, smiles warmly, "More than anything."

"Give us two minutes. Pack a bag," he says.

"Am I going somewhere?" she asks with a hint of amusement in her voice.

The Doctor nods eagerly, "Go to the window. Pick a star–any star."

The Alchemist, her skirts fanned around her as she kneels beside the fireplace, grins brightly. "Any star and we'll go see it, hm?" she adds, her eyes sparkling.

[Spaceship]

The Doctor and the Alchemist walk toward their companions, broad smiles on their faces.

"How long did you wait?" the Doctor asks, his tone light.

Rose, stumbling a bit as she stands, replies, "Five and a half hours."

The Doctor grins, clearly pleased. "Great. Always wait five and a half hours."

He wraps Rose in a warm hug before reaching out to shake Mickey's hand.

Rose turns to the Alchemist, hugging her tightly, and Mickey follows suit, embracing her as well.

"Where've you been?" Rose asks desperately.

The Doctor waves her off, "We'll explain later. Into the TARDIS. Be with you in a sec. Come on, Ally!"

"I'm coming!" the Alchemist laughs, jogging to his side, her skirts trailing behind her.

[Fireplace room]

"Reinette? You there, Reinette?" he calls.

"Little Queen?" the Alchemist tries as well.

[Palace of Versailles: Bedchamber]

"Reinette?" the Doctor calls softly as he steps into the room, but halts when he sees the figure before him, "Oh, hello."

King Louis stands by the window, watching the rain fall over the city, "You just missed her. She'll be in Paris by six."

"Ah," the Doctor murmurs, squeezing his wife's hand tightly, trying to steady himself.

The Alchemist inhales deeply, fighting the tears welling in her eyes.

The King finally turns to face them, his expression worn but composed. "Good Lord. She was right. She said you never looked a day older. So many years since I saw you last, yet not a day of it shows on your faces."

He sighs heavily, walking over to a nearby drawer. From it, he withdraws a sealed letter, his fingers tracing the edges of the envelope.

"She spoke of you often. Always wished you'd visit again," he says, his voice thick with regret, "You know how women are, of course," he mutters, almost as if to himself.

Stepping forward, the King offers the letter to the Doctor, then turns back to the window.

"There she goes," he whispers, his gaze fixed on the street below.

Through the rain-dappled glass, a black horse-drawn hearse makes its slow procession down the streets of Versailles.

"Leaving Versailles for the last time," he sighs, his voice breaking, "Only 43 when she died. Too young. Too young. Illness took her in the end. She always did work too hard. What does she say?" he asks, nodding toward the letter.

The Doctor, still holding the sealed envelope, tucks it carefully into his jacket pocket. He exchanges a quiet glance with the Alchemist as they prepare to leave.

"Of course. Quite right," the King responds softly, his tone respectful but distant.

The Alchemist exhales heavily, the weight of their departure pressing down on her. As they step toward the door, the King's voice calls out again.

"Lady Ally."

The Alchemist pauses, signaling silently to her husband to go ahead. He nods, gently releasing her hand with a tender caress, and leaves the room.

She turns back to the King, stepping closer.

King Louis forces a strained smile, his sorrow barely concealed, "She left some personal items to you in her will," he explains, his voice catching.

The Time Lady contemplates this for a moment before replying, "I will come for them tomorrow. Will you have them placed in the room where she had the fireplace installed?"

The King nods, "Yes, I will. I assume you'll require assistance... removing them?"

She shakes her head gently, "I will bring my own," she looks at him with a kind, knowing expression, "She loves you, King Louis, as you do her."

The King frowns, "Do you not mean 'loved'?"

The Alchemist smiles softly, "No. For those we love remain forever in our hearts. As long as we love them, they will love us for even longer."

With that, she turns and walks out of the room, leaving the King standing alone in the dim light.

Tears slip silently down his face as he stares back out the window into the storm. Nodding to himself, he clings to the words she left him, finding solace in the memory of the woman he loves.

[TARDIS Console Room]

"Why her? Why did they think they could repair the ship with the head of Madame de Pompadour?" Rose asks.

The Doctor doesn't look up from the console as he mutters, "We'll probably never know. There was massive damage in the computer memory banks. It probably got confused. The TARDIS can close down the time windows now that the droids are gone. Should stop it causing any more trouble."

Rose looks between the Doctor and the Alchemist, sensing the weight between them, "Are you alright? Are you... are you both alright?"

The Doctor keeps his eyes down, "I'm always alright."

"Fine, I'm just fine," the Alchemist whispers quietly, her voice brittle.

Mickey, catching the mood, steps in, "Come on, Rose. I think it's time you showed me the rest of this place."

Without another word, Rose nods, leading Mickey down the corridors. She doesn't look back.

Once they're alone, the Doctor slowly pulls out the letter from his jacket pocket. He unseals it, unfolding it carefully, and holds it out to share with the Alchemist.

Together, they read:

My dear Doctor and beautiful Ally,

The path has never seemed more slow, and yet I fear I am nearing its end. Reason tells me that you and I are unlikely to meet again, but I think I shall not listen to reason. I have seen the world inside your head, Doctor, and know that all things are possible. Hurry, though, my loves. My days grow shorter now, and I am so very weak.

Godspeed, my lonely angels.

The Time Lady wipes away the tears that fall unbidden, and the Doctor leans down to press a soft kiss to her hair.

'Bluette, please move the room and add the fireplace,' the Alchemist calls softly to the TARDIS.

The ship hums in response, and on the scanner, the fireplace flickers into view. As the fire within slowly dies out, the Doctor closes the last of the time windows.

"I need to get a few things," the Alchemist murmurs, setting their course back to Versailles.

The Doctor nods, watching as she deftly works the console. The TARDIS lands with a familiar, gentle thrum, and the Alchemist walks to the doors, pushing them both open as she steps out.

[Fireplace Room]

She smiles softly at the sight of Versailles, the place now intertwined with so many memories. She moves to set everything up, working with quiet efficiency.

'Doctor, I need you to push the cart,' she calls back, her mental voice lightening the weight in his hearts.

She hears the faint sound of his sigh from inside the TARDIS, followed by the steady sound of his footsteps approaching. He pauses when he reaches her.

"She saw the companion collections," the Alchemist says, gesturing to the items laid out, "She wanted one too, it seems. I've already started the room, but... this is everything we need, aside from the photos."

The Doctor surveys the collection: a tea cart, the familiar clock from Reinette's room, a mirror, a table and chairs, and several boxes. "Tea cart? I see she saved the clock. What's with the mirror and the table? And all these boxes?"

The Alchemist shrugs lightly. She bends down and effortlessly lifts the heavy, marble-topped gilded table, carrying it into the TARDIS. The Doctor follows, pushing the cart loaded with the clock and boxes.

[Room de Pompadour]

The Alchemist finally speaks as they enter the Rococo-styled room, its design an homage to Reinette. The walls are a soft white, accented with pompadour pink and mint green. Floral appliqués wind around the edges, and above the door, three delicate white angels look down from their perch.

She gently sets the gilded table against the wall, perfectly centering it.

"It's hers..." the Doctor whispers, his voice full of awe and reverence.

The Time Lady nods softly, "Yes, this is her room... but look over there."

The Doctor turns and notices the fireplace mantle that now adorns the wall, "You asked the TARDIS to add her fireplace."

"I did," she confirms with a small smile, "But there are still a few more things to bring in. Come on."

They exit the room and return, carrying the remaining pieces. The Doctor balances two pink velvet and gold French chairs while the Alchemist hefts the large gilded mirror. She hangs it on the wall where hooks had already been placed, and the TARDIS adjusts the alignment with a soft hum.

The Doctor arranges the chairs at an angle beside the brass tea cart, his curiosity sparking.

He glances over, "This mirror and table...?"

The Alchemist smiles at the memory, "This is the mirror and table we used when she helped me dress in that green and pink gown. You've seen the painting. I'll have a copy of it added to the room. She even had another gown made to match mine. So very her."

He nods, understanding, "Let's check the boxes, shall we?"

Together, they undo the silk furoshiki wrappings around the boxes, carefully loosening the knots so they can be re-tied later. The first box reveals a four-piece tea set crafted in the same soft pink they'd come to associate with Reinette. They share a nostalgic smile as they arrange the set on the tea cart.

But the contents of the last three boxes bring a swell of emotion. Tears shimmer in their eyes as they gaze down.

"She saw more than I thought," the Doctor murmurs, his voice thick with feeling.

The Alchemist nods, her throat tight. Inside the boxes are 43 glass candle holders, each holding a matching white candle, neatly sized for a tradition dear to their hearts. In their chapter of Prydonian, when one of their own passes, a candle is lit for every century and each subsequent year of the life lived. The Alchemist's grandmother had been honored with 104 different-sized white candles for her long life, representing 9,509 years.

"Forty-three," the Doctor whispers, his voice heavy with grief.

"Too young," the Alchemist whispers, her hands trembling as they carefully arrange the candles spilling out from the fireplace onto the floor.

The Doctor looks up at her, "I don't think we should light them."

She meets his gaze, "I agree."

Just then, a familiar voice echoes in her mind— Teacher .

'Rigel,' they say.

"She chose a star, Theta," the Alchemist tells him quietly as they sit together on the floor, the unlit candles surrounding them.

The Doctor blinks, "Teacher? Which one?"

"Yes, Teacher told me. She chose Rigel," she replies.

A soft smile tugs at the Doctor's lips, "Guess we're going to Rigel, then. We'll need to get a photo, won't we?"

The Alchemist nods, "Can we frame her letter and the photos? Just the good ones... we didn't take many, but..." Her voice falters.

The Doctor takes her hand, lifting it gently to his lips. He kisses each knuckle, his touch tender.

"Of course, my darling beauty. I wouldn't want it any other way."

They sit together in the warmth of the room, silent but united, honoring the life and memory of a woman who would always remain in their hearts.

---

A/N: I loved this episode and wanted to make the Alchemist's presence in it really impactful.

I've also been reading and testing many fiction writing guides lately. I started writing back in July, but I think I've come a long way, haha.

There is still a lot to learn, though!