Chances Are

Chances Are

Chapter Two: Explain Yourself

After placing what was apparently a Time Lady in his cot to sleep off some of her post-regeneration sickness before giving her the extremely vital tea, the Doctor stormed to the control room of the TARDIS, slamming his hands down on the panel in order to communicate with the time and space travel machine. His shoulders tense and his teeth gritted, he fought for his prized self-control as he opened his mind to the TARDIS.

“Why have I not seen or heard of another Time Lord? Is it not a secondary function of yours to track them down? Never once have you told me that another Time Lord, a Time Lady, was out there in time and space. Answer me!”

.:The TARDIS has been taking the Doctor to locations where she had been residing, but her own TARDIS detected the Doctor entering the timeline and she would evacuate. She has been actively evading the Doctor and the TARDIS since the end of the Time War:.

This thoroughly confused the Doctor, something he normally didn’t feel and it only served to anger him more. “Why? Why run from me? She seems a bit young, how old is she anyway?”

.:The Time Lady is seven hundred forty-four years, 8 months, two days, sixteen hours, fifty-eight minutes and seven seconds old. She runs from you because she is afraid. She is the only Time Lady left in the universe, as you are the only Time Lord:.

“Well, I... I don’t know what to do about this.” Twelve hours ago the Doctor was forced to say good-bye forever to the only woman he had ever loved, only to have another woman, a Time Lady (his brain couldn’t seem to process that at all) jump into his path who seemed terrified of him and run from him every chance she got. Besides the fact she had that obnoxious American accent.

Wait, American? Time Lords had always spoken with what was referred to as a “Proper Earth English” accent (American was the “Common Earth English” accent). Where did she learn that?

More importantly, could he restart his race now? Did he even want to? He felt somewhat obligated to try, being that he was the last male and she the last female of their race. Was that why she ran? And if it was, why was it now that she didn’t run and escape in her own TARDIS, but instead fought an invasion on a mostly weaponless planet of pacifists? These were all questions he himself couldn’t answer. But she could.

Pressing keys on the control panel, a small door opened next to the entrance to the sleeping quarters, revealing a pot of tea and a cup. Running his fingers through his hair in exasperation, he grabbed the pot and cup on the way to his room, purposely ignoring Rose’s open door. He had too many questions that needed answers now to wallow in self-pity and grief. His entire species may very well depend on it.

###

Warm, fragrant smoke swirled, creating Greek-like patterns of scrolls and swirls, playful and light. Seraphima looked down at herself,, somehow not surprised to see herself clad in the traditional clothing of the planet Gallifrey. She wasn’t walking or running, or even moving her legs, but she was moving forward, floating serenely in a world of white and smoke.

“Seraphima?” she turned her head in surprise, her face frozen in shock. There stood her father, regal in his proper Time Lord attire, robes with no headdress. Even now in this dream he was aloof and unreachable. At least her mind was consistent with reality.

“Father,” she whispered, wishing she could reach out and touch him, but he wouldn’t welcome it. “Have I finally died?”

Her father’s eyes behind his glasses betrayed nothing. “No, daughter. You have many more centuries,” he said simply. “This is simply a temporary link in your sleeping state from the sickness that allows me to speak with you.”

Seraphima nodded, expecting no less. “I’m surprised you bothered to do it yourself.”

“Bite your tongue, daughter. I may be dead but I am still your father.”

“Forgive me,” she said, no contrition in her voice.

Unexpectedly, her father’s eyes softened with sadness. “I do love you, Seraphima,” he said softly, “I know you’ve always doubted that, but I always have.” He stepped forward and touched her cheek briefly with his palm. “You are the only child I’ve ever had, and I... I didn’t know how to be a father. And I am sorry for that.”

Seraphima’s eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. “I... What is it you needed to tell me?”

Her father looked disappointed but nodded, pulling his hand away. “You need to stay with the Doctor. He is your destiny now.”

She scowled at that. “So, the dead Time Lords are reaching out through the Veil to start a breeding program? How very Gallifreyan.”

“Use your head not your temper, Seraphima. You two are the only Time Lords left, to separate now when you know of each other would be the most foolish thing you’ve ever done. You need each other.”

“I’ve managed quite well without him, and I will continue to do so.”

“And how much longer can you keep the madness at bay?” She remained silent. “He has the key to keeping you whole. You lost that part of yourself, you need that connection again or it could kill you. Now, it’s time.”

“Oh, how cliché was-”

”It’s time to wake up.”

###

The Doctor took a moment to look over what could very well turn out to be his future. He flinched at that thought, his mind going automatically to Rose. This woman was nothing like her, first and foremost being that she was older. Much older. True, she looked about the same age, but Earthlings still in the infancy of their lives had such a joy and fresh outlook on life and the universe. This woman was obviously hardened and jaded from her life, like many Time Lords before her. Rose had been just like her namesake, soft and delicate, but also thorny and capable of handling herself when necessary.

No, it was much, much too soon to even be considering being with this woman, however platonic. He could drop her off at the nearest space port for all he cared, as long as she was gone. He couldn’t deal with anymore companions, not for a long, long time.

Gently he shook her, whispering that it was time to wake up. She opened her eyes, her skin glistening with sweat and her eyes unseeing. He gently propped her up and held the tea to her lips as she greedily drank. In moments she slowed down, her hands stopping their shaking and her breathing returning to normal. She held the cup like it was her lifeline as he moved away from her.

They stared at one another, sizing each other up like combatants on the field of battle. He was fighting for knowledge, she for anonymity. She took in his tired appearance and looked down to see that she was apparently in his bed, no doubt he hadn’t had a full sleep cycle in over two months if the bags under his eyes were any indication. She wondered why he hadn’t gone to sleep yet, or at least taken a twenty minute meditation.

Finally she couldn’t take the silence anymore. “I suppose thanks are in order for the tea,” she said softly, placing the cup on what looked to be a nineteenth century plantation desk. She avoided his eyes, instead choosing to stare at his hologram map of the Vri’tus Nebula. “How did you find me after all these years?”

“I didn’t, as a matter of fact,” he was bemused at her obvious lack of nerve, if her interest in everything but him in the room was any indication. She did glance at him at his answer before turning away again.

“How else could you have found me? I’ve been wearing a dampening watch for years specifically so I couldn’t be detected.”

The Doctor glanced down at her wrist, noticing the delicate silver chain hooked to a small watch face. The face itself was cracked, no doubt from her work as a soldier on the Parlou planet.

“Look for yourself, probably got damaged from you throwing yourself into suicide missions. Like to play the martyr, eh? Nice job, that one, choke to death on Vervoid gas or get skewered by a Sycorax sword.” He really didn’t mean to be so sarcastic or so cruel, but everything that had happened in the past day finally broke the dam of his emotions, and she was the only one there to vent out on.

Standing slowly, oddly colored eyes blazing, the woman advanced towards the suddenly terrified Time Lord. “I don’t care how old you are or that everyone in the universe whispers your name in awe and fear. I don’t care that you’re the only one besides me left of our race. I don’t even care that you think you saved me from some horrible death like some ridiculous knight in shining armor. You may be ‘the Doctor’, but I am Seraphima, and I have no real issues kicking your ass and smearing you across the wall, rescue or not.” Her cheeks were flushed while her eyes spit fire, and for a moment he was reminded of all the women that had stood up to him over his many centuries of travel; Rose, Sarah Jane, his granddaughter, his daughter, his wife. Idly he wondered if he just naturally brought out some of the worst in women.

“Do what you want, just get the hell off my ship,” he growled, thrusting the rest of the pot of tea at her. He heard her indignant shriek and took a sick satisfaction in it.

“You picked me up off of Parlou, you dense nerdy bastard! I didn’t want to be saved and now you’re acting like I’ve stowed away! What the fuck crawled up your ass and died?!”

He spun on his heel, mouth openly gaping. “Did your parents teach you that kind of language?” Her body went completely still, her eyes dulling and glazing over. Immediately the Doctor regretted his words; like him, she had lost everyone and everything that had ever been near and dear to her heart. Everyday he mourned his granddaughter and his fallen comrades, and now he had to mourn Rose as well. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive-”

“Forget it,” she brushed past him, stalking her way to the control room of the TARDIS. “I think this new form, this new person, just likes profanity. I want out of here as badly as you want me gone. You were never supposed to find me in the first place, so I’d be ever so grateful if you could take me back to Parlou and to my TARDIS.” Well, at least one question answered, she did have a TARDIS.

“First I want some answers,” the Doctor leaned against a veined wall, legs and arms crossed. Looking at him now, his pose serious and unyielding, she could believe the whispers that followed him across endless galaxies and time immemorial, whispers of fear, awe, and respect. “Why have you been running away from me? I don’t even know you, why do you hate me so much?”

Phim sighed, muttering under her breath as she used a small cord lying on the console to tie her thick unruly hair back from her face. The Doctor was struck with how much like a true Time Lord she appeared at that moment, wisdom and pain mingling in her brilliant eyes. “I do owe you that, I suppose.

“When the Time War ended, I had been hidden by my father with a Gallifreyan soldier, who was supposed to be protecting me. When a week had passed and we had received no news, he investigated and learned that all of Gallifrey had been destroyed, and the Time Lords wiped out, except for the Doctor.

“This soldier, Nantez, decided that it was now our responsibility to rebuild the race, and when I refused to do so willingly, he tied me up and raped me.” Phima’s hands shook slightly now, the Doctor noticed idly as his stomach churned in horror, “This continued for six weeks, and every time he tested me for pregnancy and it came out negative, he beat me. Finally at the end of the six weeks, I realized I was indeed pregnant, and freed myself by stealing his dagger. He tried to tie me up again, but I... I killed him.

“I took his ship, dumped his body into a black hole, and picked up my TARDIS in order to run from you. I had already been hurt in the worst way by a man my father trusted to protect me, I didn’t want it to happen again. So for a little over a century I’ve been moving constantly, trying to get as far away as possible from you.”

The Doctor debated whether he wanted the answer to his next question, but decided he indeed had to know. “And the child?”

Phim’s eyes were empty, her expression blank. “Stillborn. It was... it was a boy. I buried him on a meteorite in the same system as Gallifrey.”

The Doctor nodded, arms unfolding only to shove his hands in his pockets. “What regeneration are you on? Seven hundred, you must be on at least five or six.”

“Third actually. I was born a short blonde who loved M&M’s and Harry Potter, then became the soldier, and now this... whatever this is.”

“Oi, that’s not fair, you’ve only regenerated twice in over seven hundred years? I’m on my ninth regeneration already, I’m only a little over a hundred years older than you.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, smirking at him. “Sucks to be you then.” She started when she noticed the black tattoo on her upper arm, three spiked stripes. “What the hell... Tattoos? I have tattoos? Do I like tattoos?” She blinked for a moment, deep in thought. “I guess I do.” She shook her head, getting back to the task at hand. “I need to go back to my TARDIS, I can make a life with the Parlixa. I can teach them or-”

BOOM. The two Time Lords fell on each other as the TARDIS began to shake, everything falling and crashing around them. The Doctor and Seraphima scrambled to their feet and through the doorway to the controls of the TARDIS.

“What is it, an attack?” Phima panted, holding on to the giant circular control panel. “Can we escape it?”

“It’s not an attack, it’s indigestion!” The doctor began wildly flipping switches, spinning things, and hitting buttons with his shoes.

“No, no, not now! I can’t stay here until it’s better, I have to get back!” She also began flipping controls and scanning the readouts, swearing profusely.

“Ok, no more swearing inside the TARDIS!”

“Then just wait until I get you outside!”

They both worked furiously, trying to navigate the ailing TARDIS towards an unknown destination. Finally, with one last BOOM that sent both of them sprawling, everything went still and quiet. Phima hoisted herself up and grabbed the Doctor’s arm, pulling him up. He was actually grinning as he dusted himself off.

“That was fantastic! It’s nice having someone else on board who knows what they’re doing instead of just screaming or falling about. Haven’t had that in a long time.”

Phim’s mouth gaped open. “Are you out of your mind?! That was terrifying and ridiculous and- and-” he was openly laughing, and not even she in this new form which apparently took a lot of things seriously could resist smirking. “All right, it was fun. Now where are we?”

The Doctor grabbed his trenchcoat and his sonic screwdriver, placing it inside his suit pocket. “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.” He stepped outside, Phim close on his heels as she shoved somethings in the pockets of her soldier’s uniform, a grey tank top and black leggings. She blinked at the sunlight, throwing her arm over her eyes.

“Ah, good old twenty-first century London. Again.” he grabbed a newspaper lying on the sidewalk, looking at the date. “Well, it’s been over a year since I was here last. Everyone should have mostly recovered from the Battle at Canary Wharf.” He tossed the newspaper into a rubbish bin, shoving his hands in his pockets again and grinning at the cityscape.

Phim’s eyes adjusted to the brightness, and immediately noticed all the funny looks she was getting. She looked down and groaned at her clothes, singed and full of burn holes.

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to stare at the city, for the thousandth time I’m sure, but I’m getting weird looks because I’m standing here in singed future clothes from another planet. Perhaps we should make our way to the nearest shop and get me some clothes?”

The Doctor started, looking her over. “Oh yeah, right. Well, off you go.”

Phim pulled out a card and something he couldn’t see, scanning it over the black strip of the card. “Hell no, Doctor. I’ve never been to Earth before, and I am not walking around by myself on a planet I know nothing about.”

“First, what did I say about swearing? Second, what you mean you’ve never been here, the TARDIS said it’s been following you for a century, and last what kind of a Time Lord are you, you won’t go walking about?”

“First, we’re outside, second, any Time Lord knows that the Doctor loves Earth, why would I constantly come here? I was a galaxy or two over, you still have control over the TARDIS and you told it to come to Earth most of the time, sometimes it sent you places where you needed to go. Third, a cautious one who’s only used two regenerations in seven centuries. Now come on,” she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the nearest shop, a somewhat scary looking black shop filled with dark clothes and spiky boots.

“Um, you sure you want to come here? There’s some nice fluffy shops down the way, less scary and life-threatening ones.”

“Oh hush up you big baby,” her accent had changed to match his and she groaned. “Great, the TARDIS synced me already. Fantastic.” She released his arm and found a woman who worked there, face full of piercings with a mohawk. The woman smiled and grabbed some items before dumping them in Phim’s arms and ushering her into a dressing room. The Doctor had no idea what he was supposed to do, so he stood around awkwardly, feeling nervous when another sales girl with half her head shaved winked at him and then pressed her phone number in his hand. Thankfully Phim came out at that moment, and his jaw dropped.

Where before her clothes were dirty and singed, now she looked elegant but still practical. She smoothed out her deep sapphire brocade corset, embroidered silver dragons dancing all across. Instead of her military-issue trousers, she had black jeans that hugged up top and widened at the calf. She bent over to pull up the bottom of the trouser leg, revealing some deadly looking black knee-high boots. Well, there went practical.

The sales girl who assisted her earlier helped her into a long shiny black coat, covered in buckles. When she pulled her hair out, he noticed that she’d braided the top part back out of her face. A black choker with a working watch as the charm wrapped around her throat, and large silver cross earrings dangled from her ears.

The sales girl giggled at the Doctor’s expression and whispered in Phim’s ear, making her glance at him and raise an eyebrow. She handed the girl her card and slid her hands into the coat pockets, approaching him slowly.

“I take it you approve?”

“Um... yeah, it’s um... it’s nice,” he averted his eyes. Rose had literally been gone less than a day, and this woman was getting to him? No, she had to go. He’d get her back to Parlou in a second and out of his life. The Time Lords and Gallifrey were dead, and though it was somewhat comforting to know that he wasn’t completely alone, it was obvious she didn’t want anything to do with him. He would still be alone even if she was there. Anyways, she wasn’t the one he wanted with him. His eyes hardened, startling her. “We’d better get you get back to the TARDIS, see if we can speed it up and get you out of here.”

Phim stared at him, taking him in. She could feel him trying to mask his emotions and thoughts from her telepathically, that didn’t concern her. What did was the sudden hostility she sensed from him that could not be dampened, like simply looking at her enraged him. Well, fine. “Yeah, no problem,” she grabbed her bags and knocked his shoulder as she walked past him out of the shop. “The sooner I get out of here, the better.”

A/N: Ok, so super explosive chapter, I feel. I plan on doing this much like episodes, with 10-12 chapters, 15 tops per story. Please tell me what you think about Seraphima, I thought I did a pretty good job of trying to keep her closed off but still have that little bit of quirkiness to compliment the Doctor.

UPDATE 8/21: Just adjusted this bit so it all makes more sense and flows better from one chapter to another. R&R, keeps me going!