The Affair of the Necklace

The Affair of the Necklace
Chapter Two


Then he was pulling her forward, past the forms of startled people,
past the masked men dressed in black, their guns gleaming in the dim light, their clothing blurring as they passed. The air seemed to glitter around her, the silence was palatable, like a dead weight. She looked back as she moved forward, and saw the startled expressions on the faces that seemed to surround her, and the men behind her who seemed to be moving in slow motion, as they turned toward her. Her eyes widened as she watched them raise their guns with agonizing slowness.

‘Come on!” the man shouted. “In you go!”

She found herself bundled into an elevator and pressed against a wall. The doors slid shut as gunfire erupted.

Time sped up again. She looked at the man before her, his eyes once again locked on her neck. A cold chill ran up her spine.

“Take your frock off,” he ordered lightly.

“What!” she gasped.

He slapped a button on the console and turned back to her, “Take your frock off.”

“No!” she shrieked.

In one stride he was upon her. Ignoring her startled gasp, he grabbed her hands as she raised them to defend herself. He pinned her arms above her head in a swift movement, and reached into his pocket with his free hand.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, her body trembling. “You’re a perv—“

Her voice faded as the glimmer of metal drew her gaze. A high pitched whirring sound filled the small car, causing Elizabeth to wince. Her eyes widened as they followed the path of the metal object to the top of her gown. Her trembling increased as the man ran the object down the front of the dress. The small room filled with the smell of burning material. Elizabeth’s head started to spin.

“If you want to live,” the man was saying. “You do as you’re told.”

Suddenly her hands were free, but before she could shove him away, she felt his fingers invading the space in between her skin and the dress. She closed her eyes, too stunned to move, to shocked to try to fight, and the sound of ripping fabric echoed off of the walls.

“Oh God!” she whispered.

The air around her was suddenly cool, as the silken dress fell from her body to pool at her feet, leaving her clad in only the red corset and slip she had donned earlier. She opened her eyes, her arms automatically wrapping themselves around her for protection. He was standing away from her again, eyes trained upward, watching the floor numbers tick by.

Without looking at her, he said,”You can’t run in that dress, and you’re going to have to do some running.”

“Ok,” she whispered. “So you aren’t—“

“You had better chuck the shoes too,” he continued, cutting her off. “Why females of your species insist on wearing shoes like that is beyond me.”

His words were slowly sinking into her brain, slowly making sense.

“But these,” she exclaimed in an indignant tone, as she looked at her shoes, her lovely high-heeled shoes of crystal encrusted satin,” Are Stewart Weitzman’s!”

He looked at her and smiled a toothy, wide smile. “Well you shouldn’t ‘ave nicked someone else’s shoes then, eh? They’re a bit flashy, if you ask me.”

“W-what?”

The elevator’s decent slowed, then stopped, a bell dinged announcing the floor. He looked at her, his expression suddenly serious, “Take. Off. The. Shoes.”

The doors slid open. The Doctor grabbed her hand, then peeked his head out of the door, as she toed the heels from her feet. He pulled her out of the car and into hell.

The lobby was quiet and dimly lit. The smell of smoke and gun powder drifted into the elevator car.. He pulled her along with him, out of the car, and into a charnel house. The scene in the lobby was that of destruction and death. Elizabeth gasped, her eyes not believing the sight that surrounded her. The smell of spent gunpowder and blood was seeping into her nose, causing her stomach to churn. She looked down and her stomach lurched at the sight of her stockined feet standing in a pool of blood.

“Oh my God!” she whimpered.

The ding of an elevator bell chimed loudly in the silence behind them.

“Run!” he shouted.

She let him pull her forward, her feet following on their own, as her mind shut down. She had to get out, had to get away from the sounds of the running feet that were now echoing in the lobby behind her. She followed him as he slammed through the glass doors and into the night. She followed him as they ran toward and past the strobing lights of the police cars that stood in the street. She followed him past the uniformed officers, all shouting at them to halt. She followed him hand in hand, as they ran from the sounds of automatic gunfire cracking in the darkness.

She felt him pull her forward, and she was beside him. The night that surrounded them was silent save for the sound of her breathing as they fled. She looked at the man beside her.

He was smiling.

“Wh-what are you smiling at?” she gasped, as they turned a corner. The street before them was busy with traffic, the lights of the cars that passed leaving streaks of light in the night.

“I’m The Doctor, by the way. What’s your name?” he asked as they ran. He didn’t sound winded to her ears.

“Eliz—Elizabeth!” she gasped in reply, even as she wondered why she was answering.

“Nice to meet you!” he exclaimed in an amused tone, as they rounded another corner.

“No!” she shouted. “That’s an alley!”

He pulled her along beside him, their footfalls echoing off the surrounding walls. Their footfalls and those of others.

“Wha—“ she gasped.

“Nearly there,” he shouted back. “Come on!”

They tore around another corner, the sounds of running feet behind them, and stopped.

A brick wall loomed before them, and Elizabeth squeezed the hand she was holding.

“I told you not to come this way!” she shrieked, as she gulped for air. The sound of running feet was getting closer. He pulled her into a corner, and backed her against the wall.

“It’s alright, Lizzie,” he said in an amused tone, as he reached a hand into his pocket. “Got what we need right ‘ere. See?”

She looked at his open palm which held a key. A rather ordinary looking key that was attached to a chain of steel.

“You’re insane!” she yelled, as the air around her began to shriek and groan, drowning out the echo of running feet. A breeze blew up, ruffling the satin of her red slip. She shoved him aside, and stepped from the corner. He let her pass with a smile.

“I’m not going down without a fight!” she yelled over the noise, her eyes defiantly boring into his. She turned, her hands clenched into fists, and screamed

“While I am usually a bit mad,” he said loudly, as he walked to the blue box that now stood in the alley,” “I’m quite sane tonight.”

She looked at him, then back to the box, then at him again. He was smiling at her, his arm holding the now open door.

The sound of running feet stopped abruptly, and was replaced by the sound of gunfire. Elizabeth screamed as she ducked, her feet automatically taking her toward the man who was now reaching out for her. She felt her hand in his and allowed herself to be pulled forward.

“In you go!” he was shouting over the gunfire that echoed loudly in the small alley.

She stumbled forward, her feet twisting beneath her in her attempt to reach safety. She fell forward, her hands stinging as they hit metal decking. She screamed, no longer able to hold the terror at bay. Somewhere in the background she heard a door slam shut.

“It does take a bit of getting used to,” he said, as he walked past her prone, gasping figure.

It was then that she noticed her surroundings, and her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘This simply wasn’t possible!’ she thought. Rising slowly to her feet, as the floor beneath her began to shimmy and the air resonated with a grinding noise, she let her eyes travel over the ceiling above.

It was metal, studded here and there with large rivets. It’s bleak, industrial surface broken only by what looked to her to be stalagmites of coral that flowed to the floor of the circular room. She looked at the floor beneath her, her blood stained feet anchored to the grating, then up the ramp to the man who had rescued her.

He stood before an octagonal object that was made up of metal and buttons. From it’s center, she saw a clear cylinder and watched the rise and fall of the glowing object within. Her eyes followed the rise and fall of the light until she felt the gaze of her rescuer boring into her.

Her gaze slid over to his.

He was smiling at her with a grim, resigned look, but his eyes stayed pinned to hers. He didn’t blink.

He spoke. “Welcome aboard the TARDIS.”

“Wh-what?” she whispered. She took a deep, shuddering breath and continued. “What is this place? Where am I?”

“This,” he said with a sweep of his hands. “Is the TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It’s not a space ship. It’s a TARDIS. Please try not to get the two confused.”

She looked at him and blinked. “A-a TAR—you’re an alien, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he answered, his eyes serious. Then, he smiled. “But, I’m a nice alien.”

The room shuddered. Elizabeth grabbed at the railing beside her, her grip so tight her skin shone white in the light of the room. She looked up at The Doctor standing before her unmoved by the undulations that unbalanced her. She had read about aliens, Area 51 and other tales; She had watched science fiction stories. Her next question was only natural, given her present circumstances.

“You mean you aren’t going to dissect me?” she asked in a disbelieving tone.

He looked at her for a moment, then burst into laughter.

She watched his face, so human in appearance, puzzled by his reaction. It was a simple question, she thought, and a fair one too, given the situation and his announcement. She didn’t look away, she kept staring up at his laughing countenance, until his laughter faded into the noise of the chamber.

“No,” he answered, his eyes glinting. “I’m not going to dissect you. I saved your life didn’t I?”

“Well,” she stammered, “Yes. You did save my life. Why?”

“Cause that’s what I do, Lizzie, that’s why.”

He held his hand out to her. She looked at his long fingers. Fingers that flowed into a firm, masculine hand. She met his eyes again, her hand extending to his. His hand felt firm and sure around hers as he drew her toward him and up the ramp then onto the platform beside the center console.

“It’s Elizabeth,” she murmured, then asked,” Why were those terrorists chasing me?”

“For your pendant,” he answered quietly, his eyes fixed on the gold charm that hung from a strip of black velvet. Her hand flew to the object, her fingers taking it up and stroking it’s smooth surface.

“
He pulled her hand from it, then took it in his own. His gaze intense, he turned the charm around as he examined it with a serious expression.

“. “It’s worth killing you for, me too for that matter. Worth killing anyone for, actually.”

Elizabeth was stunned. “B-but, it’s jus—

“I know, it’s just a piece of junk you picked up at a jumble sale,” he interrupted in an annoyed tone. He released the charm, letting it fall against her skin. “Or so you think. You really have no idea, do you?”

He turned away from her and walked around to the far end of the console. The undulations had stopped during their conversation, and a quiet hum vibrated throughout the room.

Elizabeth turned, following him with her gaze. The night, which had started out so promising for her, had rapidly deteriorated into something of a nightmare. The man, or alien, she corrected herself, who had rescued her from a band of black clad terrorists, was currently pressing buttons and turning wheels at an alarmingly fast rate. What bothered her the most was the way he was now avoiding eye contact with her. She was standing on the deck of an alien craft, she had run through blood and gore, fled from the police and machine gun wielding terrorists and she still hadn’t fainted from the enormity of it all, yet she felt as if she had been tested and come up short.

“No,” she said calmly, suddenly unwilling to be found wanting. “Why don’t you tell me then? What is it about this little charm that hangs around my neck? Why did those men want to kill me for it?”

His eyes flew to hers, their stunned expression quickly turning to something akin to amusement.

“Well?” she asked in an impatient tone. “What is it? What do I have hanging around my neck? Is it alien too?”

He ignored her as he ran to the other side of the console and gently pushed her out of the way. “Ever been to outer space?” he asked, as he turned a nozzle.


”Wh-what?” she replied, stunned.

“That’s a no, then” he replied. “Well there’s a first time for anything! Hang on!”

Before she could ask him what he meant, the TARDIS lurched, and she had to scramble to grab a hold of the console. His hand was suddenly around her waist, holding her steady.

Suddenly, as abruptly as the motion and the noise started, it stopped. Elizabeth let out the breath she had been holding as The Doctor stepped away from her. She turned to him, her expression asking him what had just happened.

He reached to the console, his hand brushing her hip, and flicked a switch.

“Look,” he said quietly, his eyes flicking behind her.

Slowly, she turned to the console, and looked down at a computer monitor. Her eyes widened, her mouth opening in shock.

“Is that—“

“We are in temporal orbit above Earth,” he said, answering her. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

All she could do was nod her head. Her gaze lingered on the image projected on the screen. Below was her home, and beyond, the bright Sun and a field of stars. She was breathless.

“I need to figure out who is after that charm of yours,” he said from behind her, breaking the silence. “I need to figure out why it still exists.”

She turned at his last words. “What do you mean?”

He stood still, his face expressionless, hands clenched at his side. His eyes traveled the length of her form, taking in the paleness of her skin against the red satin corset that hugged her form. His gaze swept over the slip that flowed from her waist, to her legs. He scowled at the sight of torn stockings, stiff with dried blood. He looked back up at her face, flushed red from the exertions of the evening, at her black hair that was now a tangled mass of ebony.

“You look a sight,” he said abruptly. “We can’t have you running about dressed like that.”

Elizabeth looked down, gasping at the sight of her condition. Her face paled as she looked up at him.

“Blood,” she said flatly. “I was standing in someone’s blood. Oh God! All of those people! They’re all dead, aren’t they? They’re all dead and I was standing in their blood!”

“Elizabeth,” The Doctor said gently, as he reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. “You need to change into something else, then we’ll sort it all out. Come with me.”

He took her by the hand and led her from the room, smiling at her surprised gasp. Anticipating her next words he exclaimed, “It’s huge! Too much to show you now, is how huge it is. We are for the Wardrobe room on this trip.”

She followed him, allowing him to guide her as she glanced about the corridor of metal that was gently glowing with ambient white light. Occasionally, along the sides of the corridor, she could see chests and boxes piled into stacks. She looked ahead, and saw him glance back. She smiled a wobbly smile, earning her a wide grin from him.

“Just under these stairs ‘ere,” he said enthusiastically. “Then past those bins to the fifth door down. See? Jus’ a short jaunt!”

“Short?” she murmured to herself.

He looked back at her and smiled, “Yea.”

They stopped in front of a wooden door, and as she was opening her mouth to ask about it he flung it open with a flourish.

“Tada!” he exclaimed. “The Wardrobe.”

He walked into the brightly lit room and turned back to her. She was paused at the threshold, her head poking a bit further past, as she looked about in disbelief.

“Don’t just stand there,” he chided in a playful tone. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in,” Go pick something out. Anything you like, anything at all. It’s yours as a replacement for the ruined clothes.”

“Really?” she asked wide eyed. “Anything at all?”

“Yes, just make sure that you can run in it as well as breathe. Although, I’d avoid anything that would involve a corset or Stewart Weitzman’s shoes,” he deadpanned.