Fic: Tick Tock
Hi there. I was attacked by plot-bunnies - this is the result. For full appreciation of this fic and all its in-jokes, you should probably watch the Eighth Doctor version of Shada on the BBC's Doctor Who website. It's very good.
loneraven was kind enough to beta this for me, my eternal gratitude to her for that. Thank you once again for taking time out from your work to tell me what you thought.
I'm really hoping people like this. I'm also hoping the LJ cut thing works, because I'm kinda unfamiliar with them.
Tick Tock
The Doctor lay back, dark brown curls falling onto the smooth floor, knees curled over the back of the small sofa and bare feet dangling in the air. An odd way to sit, but rather a comfy one. Increased the blood flow to the brain. Humans often found it uncomfortable because of the blood rushing to their heads and throbbing in their ears, but the Doctor rather liked it. It wasn't something that had been possible in several earlier incarnations, mainly due to a sense of decorum and dignity, sometimes due to figure (although rarely admitted as the case), but this figure and demeanour was quite suited to a little silliness like this. Of course, it was a little difficult to maintain the dignity required for such a position when one's skirt insisted on slipping down one's legs.
The Doctor gave her long, kingfisher-blue skirt another tug and tucked it under the sides of her knees to keep it from pooling around her hips again. She settled herself on the sofa, hands folded patiently on her stomach, and waited. She wasn't quite sure what she was waiting for.
A whisper had flitted past her ear about three hours ago, and she had been trying to hear it again since. She had been in the kitchen looking for teabags, and the sudden breath of sound beside her had caused the sizeable bump on her crown, as she'd been bent double with her head inside a cupboard at the time. She was rather glad there were no witnesses; a Time Lord (or Lady, as she was slowly getting used to calling herself) being caught off guard? Startled into bumping her head on the inside of a kitchen cupboard? She chuckled, and found that it sounded rather strange when she was upside down.
She was getting distracted again. Clearing her throat, the Doctor closed her eyes and concentrated, hard. The faint beeps and clicks of the TARDIS console melted into silence as her mind detached from the physical and drifted in the astral, waiting for whatever she had heard earlier that had caused her rather inelegant accident.
Opening her eyes again, she sighed with frustration to see that another entire hour had passed with no trace of the whisper. The special timepiece secured to the console told her so, its seven faces measuring all sorts of time as it ticked away the meaningless seconds. One of them told her the relative time on board the TARDIS (relative to what, she had no idea; it just helped her keep track of 'day' and 'night'), one told her the current local time (it was blank, as she was currently drifting lazily in the vortex), and the others ... did other things. She couldn't remember quite what. One or two of them might be tied into the current time for a couple of old friends, just in case of emergencies, but she couldn't remember which was who or who was which.
A gigantic fuzzy thing suddenly swam into view, and large yellow orbs set in a mass of grey blinked at her oddly. Oddly, she realised, because they were upside down. Something rough and warm scratched her nose once, making her smile. With the utmost of grace, she swung her body round and set her feet on the floor, startling the cat.
"You'll be wanting feeding, I take it?"
The Doctor rose to her feet and headed for the kitchen, smoothing down her skirt as she went, with the large grey-striped cat close at her heels. Now that the TARDIS was redecorated, all smooth and clean and varying shades of purple (not white this time, she was pleased to see - white was so difficult to keep clean), she was able to happily tread the corridors with nothing on her feet. The metal grilles dominating the decor during her last two bodies had not been very kind on the sole, and she was glad of the change. Other things she was happy to be shot of were the none-too-flattering mood lighting and gloomy colours. Maybe purple wasn't very much in keeping with previous colour schemes, and maybe it was a little indicative of her current gender (although she would've demanded an immediate change if everything had been pink), but she was rather fond of pastels.
A small smile crossed her delicate features as she remembered the last time she'd expressed that opinion. The Panopticon, back in body number eight. He'd told Romana that the Time Lords must have a thing against pastels, by the look of the dark and depressing decor of the huge ceremony room. Then they'd gone off on one of their thrilling adventures again; just him, her and the dog, like old times. She missed old times. She was more able to remember them now, without getting bogged down in depression and self-pity. Even her last self had still not managed to completely get over the loss, despite the ever-grinning, always-joking, big-brave-boy face he'd put on. Several more decades had softened the blow slightly, and the sudden (and quite unexpected) ability to have a really good cry about it had helped immensely. Now she could look back on her pre-war lives with fond nostalgia, remembering each of her old companions with a pang and a smile, without closing up and retreating into the armour of the hardened survivor she had once been.
The cupboard finally relented and gave up its hidden stash of tea as she rooted around for cat food; she tossed a handful of teabags onto the surface above for future use and held up two packets of food in front of the cat.
"Okay, tuna or gumblejack?"
A murmur of a sigh passed her ear, and this time the Doctor stood bolt upright, angling her head this way and that as if trying to pick up a scent. She took a few steps towards the door, towards the sink, towards the table and chair, but no direction yielded any further sounds. She stomped her foot in annoyance and tried not to wince as she discovered one of the disadvantages of bare feet. She tore open the packet of tuna-flavoured cat food and emptied it into the bowl; she should've known better than to ask, her cat was a shameless tuna-junkie.
Leaving the kitchen in something of a bad mood, she made her way to the Zero Room in the hopes of achieving some higher level of meditation. This room was still white; always had been, always would be, for as long as tenses could be reliable inside a time machine. It had barely changed over the years, and she was glad. The utter blank stillness soothed her jagged edges, relaxing her and helping her slip into a state of deep concentration. Her body was buoyed up on invisible supports, a sensation somewhere between floating in zero gravity and lying on clouds.
As her thoughts slipped and slid past each other, one by one slotting into place, she knew there was some bigger picture being constructed, though she couldn't quite see what. It was akin to those trick pictures humans had; the ones you could stare at for hours and not see anything, repeatedly unfocusing and refocusing your eyes and moving the page closer and further away in an attempt to reveal the picture among the jumbled mess. She used to have the knack for those, but must have lost it over the years.
Just as she was beginning to think it would never resolve itself, the final piece clicked into place and the picture jumped out at her. With a surprised exclamation, she fell out of the air and landed solidly on the floor.
"Ow."
In any other circumstance she would be grumbling as she got to her feet. Instead, she was beaming with the joy of an excitable child on Christmas morning. She dashed from the Zero Room and skidded to a halt at the console, pulling levers and punching buttons. She twisted a dial with the utmost care, clicking it delicately into place as though opening a safe, then flipped a switch with a flourish. All the while, she was muttering to herself almost unconsciously; "Of course, of course, of course!"
The Doctor danced round the console, hitting buttons as she went and trying not to trip over her own feet. The last lever pulled, she stood still and stared at the time rotor, smiling, listening to the familiar mechanical grinding sound and watching the glowing column rise and fall, her large brown eyes never blinking.
"Please," she whispered, her hearts constricting at the thought that her hopes might be dashed. "Oh, please."
The time rotor settled to a stop, accompanied by the heavy thump of the engines that let her know she'd landed. Her eyes settled on the door, and one hand moved to the door control. Her feet carried her across the floor to the threshold. She self-consciously smoothed down her skirt and straightened her buttercup-yellow silk blouse, then tucked her hair behind her ears and took a deep breath.
"Please," she intoned once more, both hearts hammering from the anticipation. She knew that if her hopes proved false, it would really, really hurt, but the potential reward was too great to worry about the risk to her emotions.
Holding onto the edges of the door, she stuck her head out and looked around. Her hearts soared with joy; it hadn't changed a bit. Rich wood-panelled walls, a few comfy armchairs, mountains of books. Just the way she remembered it. The faint clink of metal against china reached her ears, and she bit her lip. She stepped out of the TARDIS and closed the door behind her, running a hand down the blue panelling in an absent-minded but fond gesture. She turned and looked around the room, wriggling her toes in the pile of the carpet and only managing to suppress her smile slightly. The clinking sound stopped, and the Doctor felt her breath catch in the excitement.
"Professor?"
“Yes? Come in,” called a voice from the small kitchen at one side of the room. “Cup of tea?”
The Doctor wanted to laugh out loud. The old man’s voice was just how she remembered; ponderous, occasionally faltering, a little wheezy, carrying the wisdom of centuries but still coming across as slightly dotty.
“Yes, please,” she replied.
“Milk?”
“Yes, please.”
“One lump or two?”
“Two, please. And two sugars,” she added.
The soft chinks of china went quiet, and then Professor Chronotis exited the kitchen holding a tea tray and wearing a welcoming smile. He set the tray down on a small table, sat down in a large old-fashioned armchair, and waved for the Doctor to join him. She sat in the chair opposite, fighting against the lump in her throat. She could hardly believe he was sat right there in front of her, calmly sipping from his cup as if practically impossible people stopped round for tea every other week.
She didn’t know what to say. Professor Chronotis’ eyes twinkled as he set his cup down and regarded the Doctor with a small smile.
“Goodness me,” he said quietly.
The Doctor did laugh then, rather shakily, and slumped back in the chair. A tension she had not been aware of dissolved from her neck and shoulders, and her muscles ached suddenly from the release.
“My reaction was far less understated, believe me.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” said the old man, nodding. “Cracker?” The Doctor took one from the plate and bit the corner off. “I must say, it’s certainly a surprise to see you, Doctor.”
“It’s something of a surprise to me too, really. I thought no-one else survived. I hadn’t picked up the merest trace of any surviving Time Lords for more than a century, for two entire regenerations. Then suddenly I’m a woman, and I start hearing things; which turned out to be you!” The Doctor sipped at her tea thoughtfully. “Maybe this is that ‘women’s intuition’ thing Rose told me about…”
Chronotis raised a bushy grey eyebrow in question.
“Oh, someone I travelled with a while back. Several decades ago, by now.” She smiled fondly, nostalgic memories closely tailed by wistfulness. “One of the most adventurous girls I ever took with me. But she had to leave, in the end, same as the others.” She took another bite of her cracker. “I wonder what she’d say if she saw me now,” she wondered with a grin. “But anyway, why is it only now that I’ve been able to detect you? There’s been no sign of anyone, not since the Time War. I thought I was the only one left.”
She may have come to terms with the tragedy of her people, but it still hurt. She felt tears sting her eyes, and quickly looked upwards to banish them. The loneliness of the last eleven or twelve decades had been crushing at times, and the overwhelming relief of finally finding someone was threatening her composure.
“Well, I’m supposed to be imprisoned on Shada, you remember? I’ve taken great care to shield myself from other Time Lords in case they weren’t quite as forgiving as the Lady Romana,” Chronotis explained. “I’ve been staying off the radar, so to speak, keeping quiet.”
“But why keep your defences up for so long after the war? There’s no-one left to lock you up again.”
“I suppose I forgot about it. The last time you saw me, Doctor, I’d been maintaining… what do they call it… ‘radio silence’, yes, that’s it, for three hundred years. I’d almost forgotten about it then, to be honest. You know me, Doctor, I’ve got a memory like… like a… what is it…?”
“A sieve, Professor.” The Doctor couldn‘t keep the giggles from her voice; she’d had this conversation with the old man before.
“That’s right, memory like a sieve. It completely slipped my mind that I was still guarding my presence from the Time Lords, and I’d grown so used to doing it that I imagine I kept doing it out of habit.”
“If I’d picked up your presence earlier…”
The Doctor thought what her reaction would have been in her ninth body. It might have saved him a little grief, but he had still been plagued with survivor’s guilt then. Knowing that he was not the only Time Lord left would probably not have appeased that, not while he still blamed himself for the destruction of Gallifrey. Her tenth body might have been less hard on himself, but he still carried a dangerous spark of anger around with him; the last vestige of the fires that had wiped out his people, and all because of him.
“Maybe it’s for the best that I didn’t find you before now,” she said, mostly to herself. “Gave me time to come to terms with things.”
“I only became aware of it quite recently, actually,” Chronotis said, in a light tone that hid the dark nature of their conversation quite well. “I was tinkering with the control panel over there.” He nodded to a cabinet-like machine against the wall which looked something like a colourful juke box with far too many controls. The Doctor recognised it as being part of the workings of the professor’s TARDIS, which had been disguised as his college rooms for over three hundred years. “I was having trouble with the transdimensional containment system, and I accidentally set off a sonic pulse. I’m still not sure how… The next thing I remember is trying to persuade young Parsons not to call an ambulance for me.” Chronotis shook his head absently, a fond smile deepening the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.
“Parsons, Parsons…” the Doctor muttered, before the right memory clicked into place. “Chris Parsons, I remember him!” She smiled widely. “Quite bright, that boy. Is he still doing his Honours degree?”
“He finished just last week, I believe. Did very well, too. He comes round a lot for tea and biscuits and a chat. He likes to talk about last year, that business with… well, you remember.”
The Doctor nodded, and drained the last of her tea.
“Another cup?” Chronotis held out the round brown teapot.
“Please.”
The Doctor stirred in two teaspoons of sugar as her old friend muttered to himself and frowned a bit.
“Now, what… what was I saying?”
“You knocked yourself out with a sonic pulse,” she supplied.
“Ahh, yes. Young Parsons wasn’t too happy that I didn’t want any medical attention, but human hospitals aren’t the safest of places when you have two hearts.”
The Doctor grinned. “You’re right about that. Last time I ended up in one of those, they killed me!”
“Dear me,” Chronotis chuckled, pouring himself some more tea. “Most unfortunate, I can imagine.” There was another dithering pause as he mentally backtracked along his train of thought and began again at the right junction. “Yes, the sonic pulse. At first I didn’t think anything of it, but after a little while I noticed that everything was very quiet. I used to be aware of the rest of the Time Lords in the back of my mind, much more faintly than when I was young and I didn’t have to shield myself from them. I’d become used to the lower level of buzzing, you see, like the ticking of a clock; I was only aware of it when I thought about it.” The Doctor nodded along, the void in the back of her mind painful in its emptiness. “But one day, only last week I think it was, I thought about them … and they weren’t there. Someone had taken the clock away, and I‘d barely noticed. That was when I realised that my shields had been down for a while without my knowing, since the sonic pulse somehow shut them down. I listened for them, but there was nothing. Just … silence.”
The Doctor could hear the sadness in the professor’s voice and see the pain in his pale eyes; it wasn’t the agony she remembered experiencing, but it was there. Chronotis had spent centuries cut off from other Gallifreyans, intentionally hiding from their sensors, so he was used to the loneliness and isolation. Maybe the loss of a planet that had never really been home was easier to deal with when you’d never been able to return in the first place. Although, the professor seemed to find the notion that he’d forgotten about Gallifrey more disturbing than its actual destruction.
It wasn’t until the Doctor finished her second cup of tea that she realised neither of them had said a word for several minutes. They’d both been lost in thought, and that was something that normally brought lengthy introspection. Not exactly what she’d been hoping for when the notion of finding her old friend had first crossed her mind in the Zero Room.
She reached out and took another cracker.
“So, Professor, how is Chris? And Claire, Claire Keightley, is she still around?” She smiled with the memory of her last visit. “Did she ever get her bicycle back?”
Chronotis chuckled. “I think so.” He looked up at her, ancient eyes bright and sparkling again. He seemed glad of the change of subject. “She doesn’t come by as much as young Parsons. Hardly at all, in fact. You know, I don’t think she much enjoyed our little adventure last year.”
“I can understand that. Well, sort of. I had fun, definitely, but Claire didn’t seem the type for madcap escapades.” The Doctor had a twenty-eighth sense about these things; she could always tell whether or not a person was cut out for adventuring. Claire wasn’t. Chris might be, though he would have to unlearn all those scientific principles he claimed to know so well. He had seemed quite willing to accept things once he’d been told that Einstein’s theories about the impossibilities of faster-than-light travel were nonsense. There was potential there, she could smell it.
“He’s been quite interested in my TARDIS, and in you, Doctor.”
“Who has?”
“Young Parsons,” Chronotis said, as if it was obvious. “He found the whole thing quite fascinating. Brings you up in conversation every time he’s here. You’d think he was one of your - your … what do you call them?”
“Companions,” the Doctor supplied.
“Speaking of which, don’t you usually travel with one or two?” Chronotis looked around his book-filled room as though checking he hadn’t overlooked someone.
“Well, normally,” she replied. “Not for a little while now. I’ve only been a woman for three weeks, and I felt like I needed some time on my own to settle in, get used to things before I pick up someone new and show them the cosmos. About a week before I regenerated, my companion of seven months, Kora, decided she wanted to make a home for herself on Ameleo Phi - lovely planet, beautiful moons - with a race of people similar to her own. She was one of the Siamghat; they’re sort of ... racoon-like is the best way to describe her, I think. Huge dark eyes. Lovely girl, great sense of humour, very strange appetite.”
The Doctor smiled fondly. “I wanted to show her more than I could, really. Earth is pretty much off-limits before the whole integration-of-alien-cultures thing if you happen to be a humanoid with fur. The only way she would’ve been able to visit the earlier time periods was if she wore a hooded cloak and pretended to be a leper, but she wasn’t too fond of that idea.”
She sat back in the armchair and stared at the ceiling without seeing it. “I’d say she was the most ... distinctive-looking companion I’ve ever travelled with. By human standards, at least. No, actually, Frobisher holds that mantle.” A wide grin spread across her face at the memory of the Whifferdill, a shape-changing private eye who she had known during her sixth incarnation. “Giant penguin,” she elaborated.
“Ah.”
“Once Kora left, I decided to travel solo for a little, but only a week later I ran afoul of an evil megalomaniac-type. I know I do that a lot, but this time I realised just how handy an extra pair of hands can be. My companions have helped me out of more scrapes in the past than I care to admit. I don't fully remember what happened, but I woke up on the TARDIS, newly regenerated, and ... well, like this." The Doctor waved a hand vaguely at herself. "Now I wear skirts and paint my nails - something I have never felt the need to do before, believe me." She stuck out one foot and regarded its bright red toenails.
"Oh, of course," Chronotis agreed, sipping his fourth cup of tea.
"It was quite unsettling at first, but you get used to it."
"It's not something you hear about very often, is it?" the professor said thoughtfully. "Although it does occasionally happen, so I'm told..."
"Yes, under certain circumstances. That's what helped me deduce what happened. This particular megalomaniac must've had some sort of powerful psychic ability I was unaware of, and took control of my body." She shuddered, and goosebumps stood out on her arms again. It happened every time she thought about it, which was why she didn't dwell on it much. "I really hate when that happens, it's extremely unpleasant. I vaguely remember holding a knife, but after that it goes all fuzzy. My assumption is that I was forced to commit suicide. According to the rumours, that's the only thing that causes ... I guess you could call it 'gender realignment'." She smiled weakly.
"Yes, it sounds very confusing indeed. Most unfortunate." The old man picked up a cracker and munched thoughtfully. "He's very interested in the old legends, and stories of other worlds. Always borrowing my books."
"Who is?"
"Young Parsons," Chronotis replied for the second time. The Doctor mentally rolled her eyes. Trying to keep track of the professor’s thought processes was sometimes like trying to catch a fly as it circled a light bulb, if the fly had the ability to pop in and out of other dimensions occasionally. "There's not all that much I can tell him, really, I don't know an awful lot about other worlds. I didn't travel a lot in my younger days, I find it much more relaxing to stay in one place. Very different from you, Doctor, you've always been more... oh, what is it..." The old man muttered to himself again, trying to remember a particular word. "Peripatetic, that's the one. You never stay still, do you, Doctor?"
"I don't think I could," the Doctor replied. 'Peripatetic' was exactly the right word, she mused. A wanderer. A man - well, a woman - without a home. "Too much to see, too much to do. Brand new perspective on it all now, of course."
"Of course." She wasn't sure which meaning Chronotis had taken from that; new perspective due to different eyes, or due to different gender. Of course, she herself didn't really know which she had meant, so it wasn't all that important.
There came a knock on the wooden-panelled door, and the professor called for whoever it was to come in.
A brown-haired young man entered, carrying three or four hardback books. "Afternoon, Professor," he said, his voice slightly Scottish and quite familiar.
"Good afternoon, how are you today?"
"I'm well, thanks, yourself?"
"Not too bad, not too bad."
Chris smiled politely at the Doctor. "I don't think we've met."
"Oh, I think we have, Chris," she replied, and fought off a giggle at the confused look on his face. "Of course, that was in a different body, so you probably don't recognise me. I'm the Doctor."
"You're the Doctor?" Chris repeated, looking even more bemused. "But -"
"But I'm a woman? Yes, that came as something of a surprise to me, too. Don't worry, you get used to it."
Chris blinked a few times, opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and closed it again.
"We've been talking about you," she told him, deliberately not explaining herself. She never had before, why start now? "The professor's told me how interested you are in other worlds and everything."
"That's right. He's told me about the legends of his planet - well, your planet too, I guess - and what life was like here when he first arrived three centuries ago. It's fascinating."
The Doctor smiled. She loved it when she was right. "Well, how d'you fancy some first hand experience?"
Chris frowned a little. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I've got an opening for an assistant. I could show you those other worlds, if you like."
Chris's face was somewhere between fascination and worry. "Well, I don't know -"
"You've finished your degree, nothing to tie you down," she said, trying to encourage his adventurous streak. "Could be a good opportunity for gaining some experience. Might not be anything you could put on your CV, but it'll be fun."
The young man's face was the picture of indecision.
"I guess if you're not interested, I could always ask somebody else..." The Doctor cast a glance at Chronotis; he was smiling, he knew exactly what the Doctor was trying to do.
"You can take me to other planets?" Chris asked, trying to justify his impulse to take up the offer.
"And other times," the Doctor replied. "I can go anywhere and anywhen I like. D'you wanna come with me?"
Chris nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "I'll have to make some arrangements, call my -"
"No need," she said, cutting him off. "If you want to come back, I can drop you off minutes after you left. No-one will be any the wiser." She set her empty teacup down and stood up, smoothing down her skirt. "Shall we get going?"
Chris handed the books he was carrying to Professor Chronotis with a smile and a thanks and a fond goodbye.
The Doctor stood by the the TARDIS, leaning on the frame of the open door. "Well, come on, we don't have all day." She smiled happily; it would be nice to have someone new on board. Chris stepped inside the door, and moments later there was a surprised exclamation.
"What? You've seen the inside of my TARDIS before, haven't you?"
"Well, yes, but ... it's quite different from the last time I saw it. It's purple, for one thing."
The Doctor chuckled. "Oh, don't mind the cat, she's perfectly friendly," she called through the door. She looked over at Chronotis, and smiled warmly. "Well."
"It was a pleasure to see you again, Doctor."
"You too. You don't know how much it means to me, that there's somebody left besides me. This won't be my only visit," she promised.
"Oh, this might interest you," the old man said suddenly, making his way over to a stack of books and rummaging around a bit. He drew out a single small book and regarded its cover with a smile before handing it to the Doctor.
"What's this?" she said softly, opening the cover and flicking through the pages. "And in the Great Days of Rassilon, five great principles were laid down. Can you remember what they were, my children?" she murmured, reading from one of the pages. Her eyes suddenly stung again, and a little smile crept onto her face. "I remember this book," she whispered.
"I thought you'd like it. I take it you got the other book back to Gallifrey, mm?"
"Oh, yes, of course. I don't think Romana would've let me forget about it. Not that any of the artefacts survived... But this, this is..." She didn't know what to say. "Thank you, Professor."
"Oh well, it's not much, just a memento, really."
"Thank you," she repeated. They looked at each other for a moment, both smiling, and then the Doctor stepped forwards and hugged the old man. It was something she would never have done in any of the other bodies she visited him in, but in this one it felt right. He seemed a little startled, but eventually returned the hug. He was warm and soft, and she reckoned that this was what it must be like to have a kindly old grandfather to hug. The double-heartbeat in his chest was enough to make her throat constrict and her own hearts ache. After a few long moments, she stepped away, blinking back tears.
"Well... enjoy your travels, Doctor," the old man said, smiling fondly. "Try not to overwhelm the poor boy."
"I'll try," she laughed, and turned to the door. "I'll see you soon, I hope."
"Goodbye, Doctor."
"Goodbye."
Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor leant against the door and closed her eyes. A tear fell down her cheek, and after a few moments she wiped it away. She looked at the children's book in her hand and was acutely aware of the silence in the back of her mind. However, listening to it more carefully, she was aware of a very slight presence. Not much, and infinitesimal in comparison to the collected population of Gallifrey that used to inhabit that space, but it was definitely there. She smiled. Now that he no longer shielded himself from the Time Lords, and now that she was aware he was still alive, she could sense Professor Chronotis at the back of her consciousness. Her attention had been drawn to the ticking of the clock, and she wouldn't let herself forget about it, wouldn't let it fade into unnoticed background noise. She wouldn't be alone now, not for a long time yet.
She sighed and pushed herself away from the door, suddenly realising that Chris Parsons was standing by the console, watching her. Her latest companion, ready to learn and to have adventures, ready to touch the furthest reaches of space and time with her. The familiar and very welcome rush of excitement welled up in her at the prospect of showing off the universe once more, and she bounded over to the console and placed the precious book next to the time rotor.
"Well, Chris, where shall we go first? Kegron Pluva? I never did go back to Kegron Pluva, I kept meaning to... It's got six moons going one way, three going the other way, the planet orbits two suns in a kind of figure-eight pattern, and there's forty-three seasons." She watched Chris's eyebrows go up in disbelief. "The dominant life-form is a kind of dog-plant-fungus thing, the water's solid, and everyone eats a kind of metal plum. How's that for your first outing?"
"S-sure," he replied, his attempt at nonchalance completely spoilt by the slight stutter and his wide, eager eyes.
"Right then!" She twisted a dial and pressed a button, then lifted a lever and watched the time rotor as they dematerialised.
~*~*~
Professor Chronotis watched the blue police box in the corner of his college rooms slowly fade away, accompanied by the repetitive groan of ancient engines that diminished into a whining echo before disappearing completely. His arms still felt quite strange; he hadn't hugged anyone in decades, maybe even a century or two. He had never really had friends who were much inclined towards physical displays of affection, and he was quite unused to it. It certainly wasn't something people did a lot of on Gallifrey; Time Lords were generally far more reserved and dignified. The Doctor had never been much like other Time Lords, however, and now that he was a she, it wasn't exactly out-of-character behaviour, he supposed.
Sighing, the weight of all his hundreds of years behind it, Chronotis went over to the small table and picked up the tea tray. He headed to the kitchen with the intent of clearing it all away, but found himself making another pot of tea out of habit. He sat down again in his armchair, poured the tea, stirred in sugar and milk and sat back, inhaling the fragrance and letting his mind wander.
He hoped young Parsons would enjoy his travels with the Doctor. From what he could tell, there were very few - if any - who did not enjoy their time with the unconventional time traveller. He would certainly miss the afternoons he had spent with the young man, teaching him about chronology and entertaining him with tales of the ancient times of Gallifrey; the Great Days of Rassilon and so forth. He had been very interested in the concept of time itself, and they had spent hours discussing paradoxes and the various laws of time. The old man chuckled, thinking that Chris Parsons may be the most well informed companion the Doctor had ever travelled with; except the Lady Romana of course. She would be pleasantly surprised when the subject came up, he was certain.
The Doctor's next visit wouldn't be very far away, he knew. He wondered vaguely if she would turn up wearing another body next time, given her propensity for dangerous situations. She wouldn't go through another one in the relatively short time she would travel with young Parsons, surely? That would just be carelessness. Or recklessness, which she was far more likely to exhibit. He knew that the next time that police box showed up wouldn't be too far in the relative future, because the Doctor had promised to drop the boy off in the same time-period that he left, once he'd had his fill of the universe. Even if she returned him to his doorstep, the professor hoped she would still come back and visit him again. It had been promised, after all.
Professor Chronotis picked up a book from one of the towering piles around him, opened it up and began reading, all the while sipping at his tea. A small smile remained on his face for a long time, because he could hear the comforting ticking in the back of his mind, and he knew in all certainty now that he was no longer alone.
loneraven was kind enough to beta this for me, my eternal gratitude to her for that. Thank you once again for taking time out from your work to tell me what you thought.
I'm really hoping people like this. I'm also hoping the LJ cut thing works, because I'm kinda unfamiliar with them.
Tick Tock
The Doctor lay back, dark brown curls falling onto the smooth floor, knees curled over the back of the small sofa and bare feet dangling in the air. An odd way to sit, but rather a comfy one. Increased the blood flow to the brain. Humans often found it uncomfortable because of the blood rushing to their heads and throbbing in their ears, but the Doctor rather liked it. It wasn't something that had been possible in several earlier incarnations, mainly due to a sense of decorum and dignity, sometimes due to figure (although rarely admitted as the case), but this figure and demeanour was quite suited to a little silliness like this. Of course, it was a little difficult to maintain the dignity required for such a position when one's skirt insisted on slipping down one's legs.
The Doctor gave her long, kingfisher-blue skirt another tug and tucked it under the sides of her knees to keep it from pooling around her hips again. She settled herself on the sofa, hands folded patiently on her stomach, and waited. She wasn't quite sure what she was waiting for.
A whisper had flitted past her ear about three hours ago, and she had been trying to hear it again since. She had been in the kitchen looking for teabags, and the sudden breath of sound beside her had caused the sizeable bump on her crown, as she'd been bent double with her head inside a cupboard at the time. She was rather glad there were no witnesses; a Time Lord (or Lady, as she was slowly getting used to calling herself) being caught off guard? Startled into bumping her head on the inside of a kitchen cupboard? She chuckled, and found that it sounded rather strange when she was upside down.
She was getting distracted again. Clearing her throat, the Doctor closed her eyes and concentrated, hard. The faint beeps and clicks of the TARDIS console melted into silence as her mind detached from the physical and drifted in the astral, waiting for whatever she had heard earlier that had caused her rather inelegant accident.
Opening her eyes again, she sighed with frustration to see that another entire hour had passed with no trace of the whisper. The special timepiece secured to the console told her so, its seven faces measuring all sorts of time as it ticked away the meaningless seconds. One of them told her the relative time on board the TARDIS (relative to what, she had no idea; it just helped her keep track of 'day' and 'night'), one told her the current local time (it was blank, as she was currently drifting lazily in the vortex), and the others ... did other things. She couldn't remember quite what. One or two of them might be tied into the current time for a couple of old friends, just in case of emergencies, but she couldn't remember which was who or who was which.
A gigantic fuzzy thing suddenly swam into view, and large yellow orbs set in a mass of grey blinked at her oddly. Oddly, she realised, because they were upside down. Something rough and warm scratched her nose once, making her smile. With the utmost of grace, she swung her body round and set her feet on the floor, startling the cat.
"You'll be wanting feeding, I take it?"
The Doctor rose to her feet and headed for the kitchen, smoothing down her skirt as she went, with the large grey-striped cat close at her heels. Now that the TARDIS was redecorated, all smooth and clean and varying shades of purple (not white this time, she was pleased to see - white was so difficult to keep clean), she was able to happily tread the corridors with nothing on her feet. The metal grilles dominating the decor during her last two bodies had not been very kind on the sole, and she was glad of the change. Other things she was happy to be shot of were the none-too-flattering mood lighting and gloomy colours. Maybe purple wasn't very much in keeping with previous colour schemes, and maybe it was a little indicative of her current gender (although she would've demanded an immediate change if everything had been pink), but she was rather fond of pastels.
A small smile crossed her delicate features as she remembered the last time she'd expressed that opinion. The Panopticon, back in body number eight. He'd told Romana that the Time Lords must have a thing against pastels, by the look of the dark and depressing decor of the huge ceremony room. Then they'd gone off on one of their thrilling adventures again; just him, her and the dog, like old times. She missed old times. She was more able to remember them now, without getting bogged down in depression and self-pity. Even her last self had still not managed to completely get over the loss, despite the ever-grinning, always-joking, big-brave-boy face he'd put on. Several more decades had softened the blow slightly, and the sudden (and quite unexpected) ability to have a really good cry about it had helped immensely. Now she could look back on her pre-war lives with fond nostalgia, remembering each of her old companions with a pang and a smile, without closing up and retreating into the armour of the hardened survivor she had once been.
The cupboard finally relented and gave up its hidden stash of tea as she rooted around for cat food; she tossed a handful of teabags onto the surface above for future use and held up two packets of food in front of the cat.
"Okay, tuna or gumblejack?"
A murmur of a sigh passed her ear, and this time the Doctor stood bolt upright, angling her head this way and that as if trying to pick up a scent. She took a few steps towards the door, towards the sink, towards the table and chair, but no direction yielded any further sounds. She stomped her foot in annoyance and tried not to wince as she discovered one of the disadvantages of bare feet. She tore open the packet of tuna-flavoured cat food and emptied it into the bowl; she should've known better than to ask, her cat was a shameless tuna-junkie.
Leaving the kitchen in something of a bad mood, she made her way to the Zero Room in the hopes of achieving some higher level of meditation. This room was still white; always had been, always would be, for as long as tenses could be reliable inside a time machine. It had barely changed over the years, and she was glad. The utter blank stillness soothed her jagged edges, relaxing her and helping her slip into a state of deep concentration. Her body was buoyed up on invisible supports, a sensation somewhere between floating in zero gravity and lying on clouds.
As her thoughts slipped and slid past each other, one by one slotting into place, she knew there was some bigger picture being constructed, though she couldn't quite see what. It was akin to those trick pictures humans had; the ones you could stare at for hours and not see anything, repeatedly unfocusing and refocusing your eyes and moving the page closer and further away in an attempt to reveal the picture among the jumbled mess. She used to have the knack for those, but must have lost it over the years.
Just as she was beginning to think it would never resolve itself, the final piece clicked into place and the picture jumped out at her. With a surprised exclamation, she fell out of the air and landed solidly on the floor.
"Ow."
In any other circumstance she would be grumbling as she got to her feet. Instead, she was beaming with the joy of an excitable child on Christmas morning. She dashed from the Zero Room and skidded to a halt at the console, pulling levers and punching buttons. She twisted a dial with the utmost care, clicking it delicately into place as though opening a safe, then flipped a switch with a flourish. All the while, she was muttering to herself almost unconsciously; "Of course, of course, of course!"
The Doctor danced round the console, hitting buttons as she went and trying not to trip over her own feet. The last lever pulled, she stood still and stared at the time rotor, smiling, listening to the familiar mechanical grinding sound and watching the glowing column rise and fall, her large brown eyes never blinking.
"Please," she whispered, her hearts constricting at the thought that her hopes might be dashed. "Oh, please."
The time rotor settled to a stop, accompanied by the heavy thump of the engines that let her know she'd landed. Her eyes settled on the door, and one hand moved to the door control. Her feet carried her across the floor to the threshold. She self-consciously smoothed down her skirt and straightened her buttercup-yellow silk blouse, then tucked her hair behind her ears and took a deep breath.
"Please," she intoned once more, both hearts hammering from the anticipation. She knew that if her hopes proved false, it would really, really hurt, but the potential reward was too great to worry about the risk to her emotions.
Holding onto the edges of the door, she stuck her head out and looked around. Her hearts soared with joy; it hadn't changed a bit. Rich wood-panelled walls, a few comfy armchairs, mountains of books. Just the way she remembered it. The faint clink of metal against china reached her ears, and she bit her lip. She stepped out of the TARDIS and closed the door behind her, running a hand down the blue panelling in an absent-minded but fond gesture. She turned and looked around the room, wriggling her toes in the pile of the carpet and only managing to suppress her smile slightly. The clinking sound stopped, and the Doctor felt her breath catch in the excitement.
"Professor?"
“Yes? Come in,” called a voice from the small kitchen at one side of the room. “Cup of tea?”
The Doctor wanted to laugh out loud. The old man’s voice was just how she remembered; ponderous, occasionally faltering, a little wheezy, carrying the wisdom of centuries but still coming across as slightly dotty.
“Yes, please,” she replied.
“Milk?”
“Yes, please.”
“One lump or two?”
“Two, please. And two sugars,” she added.
The soft chinks of china went quiet, and then Professor Chronotis exited the kitchen holding a tea tray and wearing a welcoming smile. He set the tray down on a small table, sat down in a large old-fashioned armchair, and waved for the Doctor to join him. She sat in the chair opposite, fighting against the lump in her throat. She could hardly believe he was sat right there in front of her, calmly sipping from his cup as if practically impossible people stopped round for tea every other week.
She didn’t know what to say. Professor Chronotis’ eyes twinkled as he set his cup down and regarded the Doctor with a small smile.
“Goodness me,” he said quietly.
The Doctor did laugh then, rather shakily, and slumped back in the chair. A tension she had not been aware of dissolved from her neck and shoulders, and her muscles ached suddenly from the release.
“My reaction was far less understated, believe me.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” said the old man, nodding. “Cracker?” The Doctor took one from the plate and bit the corner off. “I must say, it’s certainly a surprise to see you, Doctor.”
“It’s something of a surprise to me too, really. I thought no-one else survived. I hadn’t picked up the merest trace of any surviving Time Lords for more than a century, for two entire regenerations. Then suddenly I’m a woman, and I start hearing things; which turned out to be you!” The Doctor sipped at her tea thoughtfully. “Maybe this is that ‘women’s intuition’ thing Rose told me about…”
Chronotis raised a bushy grey eyebrow in question.
“Oh, someone I travelled with a while back. Several decades ago, by now.” She smiled fondly, nostalgic memories closely tailed by wistfulness. “One of the most adventurous girls I ever took with me. But she had to leave, in the end, same as the others.” She took another bite of her cracker. “I wonder what she’d say if she saw me now,” she wondered with a grin. “But anyway, why is it only now that I’ve been able to detect you? There’s been no sign of anyone, not since the Time War. I thought I was the only one left.”
She may have come to terms with the tragedy of her people, but it still hurt. She felt tears sting her eyes, and quickly looked upwards to banish them. The loneliness of the last eleven or twelve decades had been crushing at times, and the overwhelming relief of finally finding someone was threatening her composure.
“Well, I’m supposed to be imprisoned on Shada, you remember? I’ve taken great care to shield myself from other Time Lords in case they weren’t quite as forgiving as the Lady Romana,” Chronotis explained. “I’ve been staying off the radar, so to speak, keeping quiet.”
“But why keep your defences up for so long after the war? There’s no-one left to lock you up again.”
“I suppose I forgot about it. The last time you saw me, Doctor, I’d been maintaining… what do they call it… ‘radio silence’, yes, that’s it, for three hundred years. I’d almost forgotten about it then, to be honest. You know me, Doctor, I’ve got a memory like… like a… what is it…?”
“A sieve, Professor.” The Doctor couldn‘t keep the giggles from her voice; she’d had this conversation with the old man before.
“That’s right, memory like a sieve. It completely slipped my mind that I was still guarding my presence from the Time Lords, and I’d grown so used to doing it that I imagine I kept doing it out of habit.”
“If I’d picked up your presence earlier…”
The Doctor thought what her reaction would have been in her ninth body. It might have saved him a little grief, but he had still been plagued with survivor’s guilt then. Knowing that he was not the only Time Lord left would probably not have appeased that, not while he still blamed himself for the destruction of Gallifrey. Her tenth body might have been less hard on himself, but he still carried a dangerous spark of anger around with him; the last vestige of the fires that had wiped out his people, and all because of him.
“Maybe it’s for the best that I didn’t find you before now,” she said, mostly to herself. “Gave me time to come to terms with things.”
“I only became aware of it quite recently, actually,” Chronotis said, in a light tone that hid the dark nature of their conversation quite well. “I was tinkering with the control panel over there.” He nodded to a cabinet-like machine against the wall which looked something like a colourful juke box with far too many controls. The Doctor recognised it as being part of the workings of the professor’s TARDIS, which had been disguised as his college rooms for over three hundred years. “I was having trouble with the transdimensional containment system, and I accidentally set off a sonic pulse. I’m still not sure how… The next thing I remember is trying to persuade young Parsons not to call an ambulance for me.” Chronotis shook his head absently, a fond smile deepening the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.
“Parsons, Parsons…” the Doctor muttered, before the right memory clicked into place. “Chris Parsons, I remember him!” She smiled widely. “Quite bright, that boy. Is he still doing his Honours degree?”
“He finished just last week, I believe. Did very well, too. He comes round a lot for tea and biscuits and a chat. He likes to talk about last year, that business with… well, you remember.”
The Doctor nodded, and drained the last of her tea.
“Another cup?” Chronotis held out the round brown teapot.
“Please.”
The Doctor stirred in two teaspoons of sugar as her old friend muttered to himself and frowned a bit.
“Now, what… what was I saying?”
“You knocked yourself out with a sonic pulse,” she supplied.
“Ahh, yes. Young Parsons wasn’t too happy that I didn’t want any medical attention, but human hospitals aren’t the safest of places when you have two hearts.”
The Doctor grinned. “You’re right about that. Last time I ended up in one of those, they killed me!”
“Dear me,” Chronotis chuckled, pouring himself some more tea. “Most unfortunate, I can imagine.” There was another dithering pause as he mentally backtracked along his train of thought and began again at the right junction. “Yes, the sonic pulse. At first I didn’t think anything of it, but after a little while I noticed that everything was very quiet. I used to be aware of the rest of the Time Lords in the back of my mind, much more faintly than when I was young and I didn’t have to shield myself from them. I’d become used to the lower level of buzzing, you see, like the ticking of a clock; I was only aware of it when I thought about it.” The Doctor nodded along, the void in the back of her mind painful in its emptiness. “But one day, only last week I think it was, I thought about them … and they weren’t there. Someone had taken the clock away, and I‘d barely noticed. That was when I realised that my shields had been down for a while without my knowing, since the sonic pulse somehow shut them down. I listened for them, but there was nothing. Just … silence.”
The Doctor could hear the sadness in the professor’s voice and see the pain in his pale eyes; it wasn’t the agony she remembered experiencing, but it was there. Chronotis had spent centuries cut off from other Gallifreyans, intentionally hiding from their sensors, so he was used to the loneliness and isolation. Maybe the loss of a planet that had never really been home was easier to deal with when you’d never been able to return in the first place. Although, the professor seemed to find the notion that he’d forgotten about Gallifrey more disturbing than its actual destruction.
It wasn’t until the Doctor finished her second cup of tea that she realised neither of them had said a word for several minutes. They’d both been lost in thought, and that was something that normally brought lengthy introspection. Not exactly what she’d been hoping for when the notion of finding her old friend had first crossed her mind in the Zero Room.
She reached out and took another cracker.
“So, Professor, how is Chris? And Claire, Claire Keightley, is she still around?” She smiled with the memory of her last visit. “Did she ever get her bicycle back?”
Chronotis chuckled. “I think so.” He looked up at her, ancient eyes bright and sparkling again. He seemed glad of the change of subject. “She doesn’t come by as much as young Parsons. Hardly at all, in fact. You know, I don’t think she much enjoyed our little adventure last year.”
“I can understand that. Well, sort of. I had fun, definitely, but Claire didn’t seem the type for madcap escapades.” The Doctor had a twenty-eighth sense about these things; she could always tell whether or not a person was cut out for adventuring. Claire wasn’t. Chris might be, though he would have to unlearn all those scientific principles he claimed to know so well. He had seemed quite willing to accept things once he’d been told that Einstein’s theories about the impossibilities of faster-than-light travel were nonsense. There was potential there, she could smell it.
“He’s been quite interested in my TARDIS, and in you, Doctor.”
“Who has?”
“Young Parsons,” Chronotis said, as if it was obvious. “He found the whole thing quite fascinating. Brings you up in conversation every time he’s here. You’d think he was one of your - your … what do you call them?”
“Companions,” the Doctor supplied.
“Speaking of which, don’t you usually travel with one or two?” Chronotis looked around his book-filled room as though checking he hadn’t overlooked someone.
“Well, normally,” she replied. “Not for a little while now. I’ve only been a woman for three weeks, and I felt like I needed some time on my own to settle in, get used to things before I pick up someone new and show them the cosmos. About a week before I regenerated, my companion of seven months, Kora, decided she wanted to make a home for herself on Ameleo Phi - lovely planet, beautiful moons - with a race of people similar to her own. She was one of the Siamghat; they’re sort of ... racoon-like is the best way to describe her, I think. Huge dark eyes. Lovely girl, great sense of humour, very strange appetite.”
The Doctor smiled fondly. “I wanted to show her more than I could, really. Earth is pretty much off-limits before the whole integration-of-alien-cultures thing if you happen to be a humanoid with fur. The only way she would’ve been able to visit the earlier time periods was if she wore a hooded cloak and pretended to be a leper, but she wasn’t too fond of that idea.”
She sat back in the armchair and stared at the ceiling without seeing it. “I’d say she was the most ... distinctive-looking companion I’ve ever travelled with. By human standards, at least. No, actually, Frobisher holds that mantle.” A wide grin spread across her face at the memory of the Whifferdill, a shape-changing private eye who she had known during her sixth incarnation. “Giant penguin,” she elaborated.
“Ah.”
“Once Kora left, I decided to travel solo for a little, but only a week later I ran afoul of an evil megalomaniac-type. I know I do that a lot, but this time I realised just how handy an extra pair of hands can be. My companions have helped me out of more scrapes in the past than I care to admit. I don't fully remember what happened, but I woke up on the TARDIS, newly regenerated, and ... well, like this." The Doctor waved a hand vaguely at herself. "Now I wear skirts and paint my nails - something I have never felt the need to do before, believe me." She stuck out one foot and regarded its bright red toenails.
"Oh, of course," Chronotis agreed, sipping his fourth cup of tea.
"It was quite unsettling at first, but you get used to it."
"It's not something you hear about very often, is it?" the professor said thoughtfully. "Although it does occasionally happen, so I'm told..."
"Yes, under certain circumstances. That's what helped me deduce what happened. This particular megalomaniac must've had some sort of powerful psychic ability I was unaware of, and took control of my body." She shuddered, and goosebumps stood out on her arms again. It happened every time she thought about it, which was why she didn't dwell on it much. "I really hate when that happens, it's extremely unpleasant. I vaguely remember holding a knife, but after that it goes all fuzzy. My assumption is that I was forced to commit suicide. According to the rumours, that's the only thing that causes ... I guess you could call it 'gender realignment'." She smiled weakly.
"Yes, it sounds very confusing indeed. Most unfortunate." The old man picked up a cracker and munched thoughtfully. "He's very interested in the old legends, and stories of other worlds. Always borrowing my books."
"Who is?"
"Young Parsons," Chronotis replied for the second time. The Doctor mentally rolled her eyes. Trying to keep track of the professor’s thought processes was sometimes like trying to catch a fly as it circled a light bulb, if the fly had the ability to pop in and out of other dimensions occasionally. "There's not all that much I can tell him, really, I don't know an awful lot about other worlds. I didn't travel a lot in my younger days, I find it much more relaxing to stay in one place. Very different from you, Doctor, you've always been more... oh, what is it..." The old man muttered to himself again, trying to remember a particular word. "Peripatetic, that's the one. You never stay still, do you, Doctor?"
"I don't think I could," the Doctor replied. 'Peripatetic' was exactly the right word, she mused. A wanderer. A man - well, a woman - without a home. "Too much to see, too much to do. Brand new perspective on it all now, of course."
"Of course." She wasn't sure which meaning Chronotis had taken from that; new perspective due to different eyes, or due to different gender. Of course, she herself didn't really know which she had meant, so it wasn't all that important.
There came a knock on the wooden-panelled door, and the professor called for whoever it was to come in.
A brown-haired young man entered, carrying three or four hardback books. "Afternoon, Professor," he said, his voice slightly Scottish and quite familiar.
"Good afternoon, how are you today?"
"I'm well, thanks, yourself?"
"Not too bad, not too bad."
Chris smiled politely at the Doctor. "I don't think we've met."
"Oh, I think we have, Chris," she replied, and fought off a giggle at the confused look on his face. "Of course, that was in a different body, so you probably don't recognise me. I'm the Doctor."
"You're the Doctor?" Chris repeated, looking even more bemused. "But -"
"But I'm a woman? Yes, that came as something of a surprise to me, too. Don't worry, you get used to it."
Chris blinked a few times, opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and closed it again.
"We've been talking about you," she told him, deliberately not explaining herself. She never had before, why start now? "The professor's told me how interested you are in other worlds and everything."
"That's right. He's told me about the legends of his planet - well, your planet too, I guess - and what life was like here when he first arrived three centuries ago. It's fascinating."
The Doctor smiled. She loved it when she was right. "Well, how d'you fancy some first hand experience?"
Chris frowned a little. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I've got an opening for an assistant. I could show you those other worlds, if you like."
Chris's face was somewhere between fascination and worry. "Well, I don't know -"
"You've finished your degree, nothing to tie you down," she said, trying to encourage his adventurous streak. "Could be a good opportunity for gaining some experience. Might not be anything you could put on your CV, but it'll be fun."
The young man's face was the picture of indecision.
"I guess if you're not interested, I could always ask somebody else..." The Doctor cast a glance at Chronotis; he was smiling, he knew exactly what the Doctor was trying to do.
"You can take me to other planets?" Chris asked, trying to justify his impulse to take up the offer.
"And other times," the Doctor replied. "I can go anywhere and anywhen I like. D'you wanna come with me?"
Chris nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "I'll have to make some arrangements, call my -"
"No need," she said, cutting him off. "If you want to come back, I can drop you off minutes after you left. No-one will be any the wiser." She set her empty teacup down and stood up, smoothing down her skirt. "Shall we get going?"
Chris handed the books he was carrying to Professor Chronotis with a smile and a thanks and a fond goodbye.
The Doctor stood by the the TARDIS, leaning on the frame of the open door. "Well, come on, we don't have all day." She smiled happily; it would be nice to have someone new on board. Chris stepped inside the door, and moments later there was a surprised exclamation.
"What? You've seen the inside of my TARDIS before, haven't you?"
"Well, yes, but ... it's quite different from the last time I saw it. It's purple, for one thing."
The Doctor chuckled. "Oh, don't mind the cat, she's perfectly friendly," she called through the door. She looked over at Chronotis, and smiled warmly. "Well."
"It was a pleasure to see you again, Doctor."
"You too. You don't know how much it means to me, that there's somebody left besides me. This won't be my only visit," she promised.
"Oh, this might interest you," the old man said suddenly, making his way over to a stack of books and rummaging around a bit. He drew out a single small book and regarded its cover with a smile before handing it to the Doctor.
"What's this?" she said softly, opening the cover and flicking through the pages. "And in the Great Days of Rassilon, five great principles were laid down. Can you remember what they were, my children?" she murmured, reading from one of the pages. Her eyes suddenly stung again, and a little smile crept onto her face. "I remember this book," she whispered.
"I thought you'd like it. I take it you got the other book back to Gallifrey, mm?"
"Oh, yes, of course. I don't think Romana would've let me forget about it. Not that any of the artefacts survived... But this, this is..." She didn't know what to say. "Thank you, Professor."
"Oh well, it's not much, just a memento, really."
"Thank you," she repeated. They looked at each other for a moment, both smiling, and then the Doctor stepped forwards and hugged the old man. It was something she would never have done in any of the other bodies she visited him in, but in this one it felt right. He seemed a little startled, but eventually returned the hug. He was warm and soft, and she reckoned that this was what it must be like to have a kindly old grandfather to hug. The double-heartbeat in his chest was enough to make her throat constrict and her own hearts ache. After a few long moments, she stepped away, blinking back tears.
"Well... enjoy your travels, Doctor," the old man said, smiling fondly. "Try not to overwhelm the poor boy."
"I'll try," she laughed, and turned to the door. "I'll see you soon, I hope."
"Goodbye, Doctor."
"Goodbye."
Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor leant against the door and closed her eyes. A tear fell down her cheek, and after a few moments she wiped it away. She looked at the children's book in her hand and was acutely aware of the silence in the back of her mind. However, listening to it more carefully, she was aware of a very slight presence. Not much, and infinitesimal in comparison to the collected population of Gallifrey that used to inhabit that space, but it was definitely there. She smiled. Now that he no longer shielded himself from the Time Lords, and now that she was aware he was still alive, she could sense Professor Chronotis at the back of her consciousness. Her attention had been drawn to the ticking of the clock, and she wouldn't let herself forget about it, wouldn't let it fade into unnoticed background noise. She wouldn't be alone now, not for a long time yet.
She sighed and pushed herself away from the door, suddenly realising that Chris Parsons was standing by the console, watching her. Her latest companion, ready to learn and to have adventures, ready to touch the furthest reaches of space and time with her. The familiar and very welcome rush of excitement welled up in her at the prospect of showing off the universe once more, and she bounded over to the console and placed the precious book next to the time rotor.
"Well, Chris, where shall we go first? Kegron Pluva? I never did go back to Kegron Pluva, I kept meaning to... It's got six moons going one way, three going the other way, the planet orbits two suns in a kind of figure-eight pattern, and there's forty-three seasons." She watched Chris's eyebrows go up in disbelief. "The dominant life-form is a kind of dog-plant-fungus thing, the water's solid, and everyone eats a kind of metal plum. How's that for your first outing?"
"S-sure," he replied, his attempt at nonchalance completely spoilt by the slight stutter and his wide, eager eyes.
"Right then!" She twisted a dial and pressed a button, then lifted a lever and watched the time rotor as they dematerialised.
~*~*~
Professor Chronotis watched the blue police box in the corner of his college rooms slowly fade away, accompanied by the repetitive groan of ancient engines that diminished into a whining echo before disappearing completely. His arms still felt quite strange; he hadn't hugged anyone in decades, maybe even a century or two. He had never really had friends who were much inclined towards physical displays of affection, and he was quite unused to it. It certainly wasn't something people did a lot of on Gallifrey; Time Lords were generally far more reserved and dignified. The Doctor had never been much like other Time Lords, however, and now that he was a she, it wasn't exactly out-of-character behaviour, he supposed.
Sighing, the weight of all his hundreds of years behind it, Chronotis went over to the small table and picked up the tea tray. He headed to the kitchen with the intent of clearing it all away, but found himself making another pot of tea out of habit. He sat down again in his armchair, poured the tea, stirred in sugar and milk and sat back, inhaling the fragrance and letting his mind wander.
He hoped young Parsons would enjoy his travels with the Doctor. From what he could tell, there were very few - if any - who did not enjoy their time with the unconventional time traveller. He would certainly miss the afternoons he had spent with the young man, teaching him about chronology and entertaining him with tales of the ancient times of Gallifrey; the Great Days of Rassilon and so forth. He had been very interested in the concept of time itself, and they had spent hours discussing paradoxes and the various laws of time. The old man chuckled, thinking that Chris Parsons may be the most well informed companion the Doctor had ever travelled with; except the Lady Romana of course. She would be pleasantly surprised when the subject came up, he was certain.
The Doctor's next visit wouldn't be very far away, he knew. He wondered vaguely if she would turn up wearing another body next time, given her propensity for dangerous situations. She wouldn't go through another one in the relatively short time she would travel with young Parsons, surely? That would just be carelessness. Or recklessness, which she was far more likely to exhibit. He knew that the next time that police box showed up wouldn't be too far in the relative future, because the Doctor had promised to drop the boy off in the same time-period that he left, once he'd had his fill of the universe. Even if she returned him to his doorstep, the professor hoped she would still come back and visit him again. It had been promised, after all.
Professor Chronotis picked up a book from one of the towering piles around him, opened it up and began reading, all the while sipping at his tea. A small smile remained on his face for a long time, because he could hear the comforting ticking in the back of his mind, and he knew in all certainty now that he was no longer alone.