Just a Human with Two Hearts (3/?)
Title: Just a Human With Two Hearts (3/?)
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: Still R for violence language and generally being Torchwood
Summary: She wasn't supposed to be there, but somehow she survived. Can she move on from a war that took everything from her?
Notes: Still written for Time Crash :) Still don't anyone but the dear Lacey, though here she's still Mystic.
Jack sat at his desk, feet resting on a pile of papers. He was thinking about the woman who had crashed into their lives. The Time Lord, or Time Lady, or whatever they called the females of the Doctor’s race. A race, which, according to the Doctor, was extinct except for him. Except here she was whoever she was. There was something about the woman, something he couldn’t quite figure out. He brushed the thought aside. Probably just nerves of having the Rift open up right in the middle of the Hub. They should see if they can get it shielded. He thought back to the mystery Time Lady.
Owen probably didn’t know how right he was when he said she looked like she survived a war. Her clothes, the weapons, the fact that she’d pretty much been blown apart told him she was from the Time War. But why didn’t the Doctor know about her surviving. He said he could sense his people. Was something blocking him from sensing her, or was it he was so convinced no one else could survive he wasn’t looking? One more question to ask the man whenever he caught up with him. He looked up when he heard Ianto clear his throat. “Owen finished his scans?”
The younger man shook his head. “He’s running them again, he seems to think something is wrong either with the numbers you gave him, or the scans themselves.” He moved into the office, closing the door before walking over to Jack. “There’s something about her, isn’t there?”
Jack shrugged. “The last I had heard, only one Time Lord still existed. All the others were wiped out in probably the greatest war the universe ever knew.”
“So how did she end up here? And now that she is here, how do we deal with her?”
Jack nodded. “Rift is the obvious answer as to how she ended up here. That much we witnessed. That just brings up more questions. The Time Lords are mildly telepathic race, and as a race that travels through time, why shouldn’t the survivor have sensed her? Been here when she appeared? As to how we deal with her…” Jack shrugged again. “If she isn’t a threat, well, we have a police liaison, why not an alien liaison. Otherwise, find her an out of the way place to live and not cause trouble. It’s not like we can send her back.” Neither man discussed what would happen if she turned hostile. There was no need. Ianto walked back out of the office, but Jack was still bothered. Why, if the Doctor swore he could feel his person, which is how he knew none had survived, was he not here already? Why hadn’t he come to find someone who could prove that he was not alone?
Owen rubbed his eyes, half tempted to chuck the damn scanner out. Something was obviously wrong. It had to either be the scanner, or the reports Jack gave him that said would give baseline stats for a Time Lord. “This is bollocks,” he muttered. Every result from the scanner was the same. So if it were an error, it was making the same one. “Tosh,” he called upstairs, “can I borrow you for a minute?”
The computer genius looked down at him from the railing, “what do you need now, Owen?”
“I need to give you a quick scan,” he gave her the best come on; you know you can’t resist me smile.
She sighed, but smiled as she met him down in the med bay. “Is it on the fritz again?”
Owen shrugged as he ran the scan. “It’s either that or the baselines stats are rubbish.” He did a quick comparison of her scan with the new one and shook his head. “Perfect match. It’s not the scanner.” He ran a hand down his face again.
Tosh walked over to reports Owen had been going over. “What kind of differences are we looking at?”
Owen shrugged. “According to Jack’s rubbish reports, Time Lords have a binary-vascular system, a respiratory bypass, heart rates three times faster than a human’s at rest. Also, body temperature is fifteen degrees cooler than ours.”
“And hers?”
“Her body temperature is five degrees cooler than ours. Her heart rate is only twice as fast as ours, oh, and it’s obvious there’s a double pulse. Apparently unless you knew what you were looking for, you can’t tell that in a Time Lord. The only thing she has in common with those damn notes is the fact she had two damn hearts, and regenerated.” Owen shook his head, leaning against the wall. “She’s more like a human with two hearts than a Time Lord apparently.”
Tosh stood staring at the reports, before shrugging. “Maybe she is.”
Owen crossed his arms, tilting his head as he looked at Tosh. “How you figure?”
“Remember the Space Pig incident and the Slitheen? The one you were too hung over to deal with?” He rolled his eyes but nodded. “I met the Doctor then, though I didn’t know it until later. I had to do some digging. But they are humanoid, why couldn’t they…” She shrugged.
Owen stared at Tosh, before smiling and grabbing the scanner. “Tosh, you’re a genius.” He set the scanner to scan at the molecular level. He scanned her again, smirking as it finished. “Nailed it on the head. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it. She’s not full Time Lord. She’s half human. That’s what was throwing off the readings.” He looked over at Tosh, “you are genius.”
She nodded with a little shrug. “I know.” She headed back up to the main part of the Hub, and he turned back to deal with the interloper.
He still had the problem that they didn’t’ have information on Half Time Lords, which meant they were rare. Owen had no idea how far off her the scanners results were from her norms. Was her body temperature too high or too low? Was she breathing shallowly, or was her breathing normal? Well, it looked like he was going to have to try it the old fashioned way, and get hands on. He slipped one hand behind her neck, the other resting on her forehead. She felt cool to the touch, but not clammy. He’d have to get used to that. She obviously wasn’t hypothermic, if anything, she looked flushed, like someone running a slight fever. So she probably ran a degree or two cooler than his readings normally. He took her wrist, the double pulse fast, but strong. It was more than likely within norms for her. He was just turning back with his stethoscope to check her breathing and hearts when he found himself with a scalpel inches from his face, and he sighed. “Just bloody brilliant,” he muttered.
“Better believe it,” she agrred, “now you have exactly thirty seconds to answer my questions or you’re gonna find yourself missing an eye. And believe me, regeneration or not, I’ve got killer aim.” She glared at him with her blue eyes. “Now, where the hell am I? When the hell am I? Who the hell are you? What the hell do you want with me?”
“Torchwood, Cardiff, Wales, Earth, early twenty first century, Dr. Owen Harper, and other than you getting that bleeding scalpel out of my face, I don’t want a thing with you. You’re the one who dropped in on us.” He moved slowly, and held his hand out. “Now, mind handing me that scalpel?”
She gave him a hard look, lowering the scalpel, but not handing it over. “I’ll think I’ll hold on to it. I have only your word that you’re the good guys, and you’re between me and my weapons. Blah, it’s going to take some getting used to this new voice. Which reminds me, one…no, wait, two more questions, One, how long was actually unconscious? And two,” She smirked, “am I still ginger?”
Owen shrugged. The damn thing wasn’t in his face, and if it made her feel comfortable enough not to shut down he might get some answers. “Fair enough. I think it’s been one and half, two hours?” he shrugged again. “I was too busy trying to figure out why the scans I was taking weren’t matching the numbers I have for Time Lords. Which, by the way, I want to go over the results with you, as you’re the only one who can tell me if they’re within norms.”
“Why do you even have Time Lord stats?” She asked, raising the scalpel again. “What do you want so badly with a Time Lord?”
He sighed; he was beginning to hate how jumpy she was. “We got them from UNIT. I’m telling you, we don’t want a Time Lord for anything. You fell through the Rift. And yes, you’re still ginger.” He looked at her and the scalpel. He could probably get it away from her if he moved fast enough. He watched as she looked up, trying to see her hair that was still tied back in a messy bun. He reached out quickly for the instrument, only to have her slice quickly with it before shoving it back in his face, now an inch from his eye. He leaned back, cursing the table that prevented him from taking a step back, holding his now injured hand.
“While I’m sure he deserves it, do you mind not blinding or killing my medic? Good help is so hard to find in this line of work.”
When the girl looked up at Jack, Owen took the chance to move back and out the way, glancing down at his bleeding palm. He moved his good hand, and winced. It wasn’t the worst he’d ever had. He’d given himself worse when he was still just a clumsy intern, but it wasn’t pretty. “Insane bird,” he muttered, grabbing some things to bandage it up.
“Shouldn’t have grabbed for my only means of self-defense. Though I probably could have just kicked your scrawny arse,” she said over her shoulder, before moving so that she could see both men. “Who the hell are you?”
“Captain Jack Harkness,” he said, leaning on the rails, “what about you? Got a name?”
“The Mystic,” she said, lowering the scalpel but keeping a wary eye on both men. The scrawny one she could take, but the captain, well, he might be a bit tougher
“The Mystic,” Owen scoffed, as he set about repairing the damage she’d done. “Oh no, that’s not pompous at all. He said name, not title.”
“That is my name. The Mystic, nothing more, nothing less.” She shrugged. “You want a title? That would be general.” She raised an eyebrow at the captain.
“Pardon me if I don’t salute, but you’re hardly in uniform,” Jack said with a chuckle. “I think it’s safe to assume you’re from the Time War.”
She whirled on him, raising the scalpel again. “What the hell do you know about the Time War?” He just stared at her, not saying a word, being usual Jack Harkness, keeper of secrets. She sighed. “Yes. I take it that it’s over then?” He nodded, and she lowered the scalpel. “So that’s it then. One of the oldest races in the universe, left down to the half breed.” Jack looked like he was about to say something when made a pained noise and grabbed her had, stumbling back.
Both men were by her side within seconds, getting her back into the bed. Owen did another scan as she shivered under the blanket. “Hey,” he said, pulling her attention to him, “tell me how far off these numbers are from your norms, ok? Any allergies?” He knew the report said Time Lords were allergic to aspirin but her mixed heritage could mean any number of complications.
She shook her head, she was shivering now, and Owen had a feeling her fever was going up. Unless unlike humans they shiver when their fever breaks, but it didn’t seem to say anything about that. She pointed at her stuff. “Front pocket of jacket. Everything you need. This is bad one,” she muttered, eyes rolling back as she slipped into unconsciousness.
Owen went to the ruined clothes, and pulled out a disc from the front pocket. “Makes sense,” he said. “Now, the only problem is, I highly doubt this is in English.” He stuck the disc into the computer. “Yep, this makes no sense whatsoever.” He looked at the woman unconscious in his med bay. “Thanks for nothing.”
Jack took the disc from the medic. “I’ll have Tosh look at it, see if she can’t get a translation done.” He headed out of the med bay, leaving Owen alone with his rather reluctant patient.
He sighed, deciding that basic fluids couldn’t hurt, and might help to bring down the fever. “By the time you get that done, she might have already recovered, or be dead.” This was going be a long fucking day.
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: Still R for violence language and generally being Torchwood
Summary: She wasn't supposed to be there, but somehow she survived. Can she move on from a war that took everything from her?
Notes: Still written for Time Crash :) Still don't anyone but the dear Lacey, though here she's still Mystic.
Jack sat at his desk, feet resting on a pile of papers. He was thinking about the woman who had crashed into their lives. The Time Lord, or Time Lady, or whatever they called the females of the Doctor’s race. A race, which, according to the Doctor, was extinct except for him. Except here she was whoever she was. There was something about the woman, something he couldn’t quite figure out. He brushed the thought aside. Probably just nerves of having the Rift open up right in the middle of the Hub. They should see if they can get it shielded. He thought back to the mystery Time Lady.
Owen probably didn’t know how right he was when he said she looked like she survived a war. Her clothes, the weapons, the fact that she’d pretty much been blown apart told him she was from the Time War. But why didn’t the Doctor know about her surviving. He said he could sense his people. Was something blocking him from sensing her, or was it he was so convinced no one else could survive he wasn’t looking? One more question to ask the man whenever he caught up with him. He looked up when he heard Ianto clear his throat. “Owen finished his scans?”
The younger man shook his head. “He’s running them again, he seems to think something is wrong either with the numbers you gave him, or the scans themselves.” He moved into the office, closing the door before walking over to Jack. “There’s something about her, isn’t there?”
Jack shrugged. “The last I had heard, only one Time Lord still existed. All the others were wiped out in probably the greatest war the universe ever knew.”
“So how did she end up here? And now that she is here, how do we deal with her?”
Jack nodded. “Rift is the obvious answer as to how she ended up here. That much we witnessed. That just brings up more questions. The Time Lords are mildly telepathic race, and as a race that travels through time, why shouldn’t the survivor have sensed her? Been here when she appeared? As to how we deal with her…” Jack shrugged again. “If she isn’t a threat, well, we have a police liaison, why not an alien liaison. Otherwise, find her an out of the way place to live and not cause trouble. It’s not like we can send her back.” Neither man discussed what would happen if she turned hostile. There was no need. Ianto walked back out of the office, but Jack was still bothered. Why, if the Doctor swore he could feel his person, which is how he knew none had survived, was he not here already? Why hadn’t he come to find someone who could prove that he was not alone?
Owen rubbed his eyes, half tempted to chuck the damn scanner out. Something was obviously wrong. It had to either be the scanner, or the reports Jack gave him that said would give baseline stats for a Time Lord. “This is bollocks,” he muttered. Every result from the scanner was the same. So if it were an error, it was making the same one. “Tosh,” he called upstairs, “can I borrow you for a minute?”
The computer genius looked down at him from the railing, “what do you need now, Owen?”
“I need to give you a quick scan,” he gave her the best come on; you know you can’t resist me smile.
She sighed, but smiled as she met him down in the med bay. “Is it on the fritz again?”
Owen shrugged as he ran the scan. “It’s either that or the baselines stats are rubbish.” He did a quick comparison of her scan with the new one and shook his head. “Perfect match. It’s not the scanner.” He ran a hand down his face again.
Tosh walked over to reports Owen had been going over. “What kind of differences are we looking at?”
Owen shrugged. “According to Jack’s rubbish reports, Time Lords have a binary-vascular system, a respiratory bypass, heart rates three times faster than a human’s at rest. Also, body temperature is fifteen degrees cooler than ours.”
“And hers?”
“Her body temperature is five degrees cooler than ours. Her heart rate is only twice as fast as ours, oh, and it’s obvious there’s a double pulse. Apparently unless you knew what you were looking for, you can’t tell that in a Time Lord. The only thing she has in common with those damn notes is the fact she had two damn hearts, and regenerated.” Owen shook his head, leaning against the wall. “She’s more like a human with two hearts than a Time Lord apparently.”
Tosh stood staring at the reports, before shrugging. “Maybe she is.”
Owen crossed his arms, tilting his head as he looked at Tosh. “How you figure?”
“Remember the Space Pig incident and the Slitheen? The one you were too hung over to deal with?” He rolled his eyes but nodded. “I met the Doctor then, though I didn’t know it until later. I had to do some digging. But they are humanoid, why couldn’t they…” She shrugged.
Owen stared at Tosh, before smiling and grabbing the scanner. “Tosh, you’re a genius.” He set the scanner to scan at the molecular level. He scanned her again, smirking as it finished. “Nailed it on the head. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it. She’s not full Time Lord. She’s half human. That’s what was throwing off the readings.” He looked over at Tosh, “you are genius.”
She nodded with a little shrug. “I know.” She headed back up to the main part of the Hub, and he turned back to deal with the interloper.
He still had the problem that they didn’t’ have information on Half Time Lords, which meant they were rare. Owen had no idea how far off her the scanners results were from her norms. Was her body temperature too high or too low? Was she breathing shallowly, or was her breathing normal? Well, it looked like he was going to have to try it the old fashioned way, and get hands on. He slipped one hand behind her neck, the other resting on her forehead. She felt cool to the touch, but not clammy. He’d have to get used to that. She obviously wasn’t hypothermic, if anything, she looked flushed, like someone running a slight fever. So she probably ran a degree or two cooler than his readings normally. He took her wrist, the double pulse fast, but strong. It was more than likely within norms for her. He was just turning back with his stethoscope to check her breathing and hearts when he found himself with a scalpel inches from his face, and he sighed. “Just bloody brilliant,” he muttered.
“Better believe it,” she agrred, “now you have exactly thirty seconds to answer my questions or you’re gonna find yourself missing an eye. And believe me, regeneration or not, I’ve got killer aim.” She glared at him with her blue eyes. “Now, where the hell am I? When the hell am I? Who the hell are you? What the hell do you want with me?”
“Torchwood, Cardiff, Wales, Earth, early twenty first century, Dr. Owen Harper, and other than you getting that bleeding scalpel out of my face, I don’t want a thing with you. You’re the one who dropped in on us.” He moved slowly, and held his hand out. “Now, mind handing me that scalpel?”
She gave him a hard look, lowering the scalpel, but not handing it over. “I’ll think I’ll hold on to it. I have only your word that you’re the good guys, and you’re between me and my weapons. Blah, it’s going to take some getting used to this new voice. Which reminds me, one…no, wait, two more questions, One, how long was actually unconscious? And two,” She smirked, “am I still ginger?”
Owen shrugged. The damn thing wasn’t in his face, and if it made her feel comfortable enough not to shut down he might get some answers. “Fair enough. I think it’s been one and half, two hours?” he shrugged again. “I was too busy trying to figure out why the scans I was taking weren’t matching the numbers I have for Time Lords. Which, by the way, I want to go over the results with you, as you’re the only one who can tell me if they’re within norms.”
“Why do you even have Time Lord stats?” She asked, raising the scalpel again. “What do you want so badly with a Time Lord?”
He sighed; he was beginning to hate how jumpy she was. “We got them from UNIT. I’m telling you, we don’t want a Time Lord for anything. You fell through the Rift. And yes, you’re still ginger.” He looked at her and the scalpel. He could probably get it away from her if he moved fast enough. He watched as she looked up, trying to see her hair that was still tied back in a messy bun. He reached out quickly for the instrument, only to have her slice quickly with it before shoving it back in his face, now an inch from his eye. He leaned back, cursing the table that prevented him from taking a step back, holding his now injured hand.
“While I’m sure he deserves it, do you mind not blinding or killing my medic? Good help is so hard to find in this line of work.”
When the girl looked up at Jack, Owen took the chance to move back and out the way, glancing down at his bleeding palm. He moved his good hand, and winced. It wasn’t the worst he’d ever had. He’d given himself worse when he was still just a clumsy intern, but it wasn’t pretty. “Insane bird,” he muttered, grabbing some things to bandage it up.
“Shouldn’t have grabbed for my only means of self-defense. Though I probably could have just kicked your scrawny arse,” she said over her shoulder, before moving so that she could see both men. “Who the hell are you?”
“Captain Jack Harkness,” he said, leaning on the rails, “what about you? Got a name?”
“The Mystic,” she said, lowering the scalpel but keeping a wary eye on both men. The scrawny one she could take, but the captain, well, he might be a bit tougher
“The Mystic,” Owen scoffed, as he set about repairing the damage she’d done. “Oh no, that’s not pompous at all. He said name, not title.”
“That is my name. The Mystic, nothing more, nothing less.” She shrugged. “You want a title? That would be general.” She raised an eyebrow at the captain.
“Pardon me if I don’t salute, but you’re hardly in uniform,” Jack said with a chuckle. “I think it’s safe to assume you’re from the Time War.”
She whirled on him, raising the scalpel again. “What the hell do you know about the Time War?” He just stared at her, not saying a word, being usual Jack Harkness, keeper of secrets. She sighed. “Yes. I take it that it’s over then?” He nodded, and she lowered the scalpel. “So that’s it then. One of the oldest races in the universe, left down to the half breed.” Jack looked like he was about to say something when made a pained noise and grabbed her had, stumbling back.
Both men were by her side within seconds, getting her back into the bed. Owen did another scan as she shivered under the blanket. “Hey,” he said, pulling her attention to him, “tell me how far off these numbers are from your norms, ok? Any allergies?” He knew the report said Time Lords were allergic to aspirin but her mixed heritage could mean any number of complications.
She shook her head, she was shivering now, and Owen had a feeling her fever was going up. Unless unlike humans they shiver when their fever breaks, but it didn’t seem to say anything about that. She pointed at her stuff. “Front pocket of jacket. Everything you need. This is bad one,” she muttered, eyes rolling back as she slipped into unconsciousness.
Owen went to the ruined clothes, and pulled out a disc from the front pocket. “Makes sense,” he said. “Now, the only problem is, I highly doubt this is in English.” He stuck the disc into the computer. “Yep, this makes no sense whatsoever.” He looked at the woman unconscious in his med bay. “Thanks for nothing.”
Jack took the disc from the medic. “I’ll have Tosh look at it, see if she can’t get a translation done.” He headed out of the med bay, leaving Owen alone with his rather reluctant patient.
He sighed, deciding that basic fluids couldn’t hurt, and might help to bring down the fever. “By the time you get that done, she might have already recovered, or be dead.” This was going be a long fucking day.