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Chapter Text

Victorian London was in an uproar, complete flabbergasted when, out of nowhere, a giant tyrannosaurus Rex appeared in the middle of the town, stomping past the House of Parliament while the crowds gathered in alarm and amazement along the river to watch. One man in particular didn't seem to give the dinosaur enough notice as he hurried through the crowd, a young constable was pushing people out of the way in order to clear a path for three people following him towards the Inspector.

"Come on!" he huffed, nudging another person away, "Out of the way. Move yourself, please. Coming through. That's it. Excuse me, sir," finally he had enough space to get his comrades to his commanding officer.

The Inspector didn't even look away from the dinosaur as the three approached him, a young maid, a rather dumpy fellow with brown skin and no neck, and a woman shrouded entirely in black, "Madame Vastra, thank God," he breathed as the shrouded woman came to his side, "I'll wager you've not seen anything like this before."

"Well," the woman mused, lifting her veil over her head to reveal her green, reptilian skin, "Not since I was a little girl."

"Big fella, isn't he?" the woman beside her murmured, staring at the dinosaur in awe.

"Dinosaurs were mostly this size," Vastra explained, before leaning in to whisper into her companion's ear, "I do believe it's a 'she.'"

"No, they weren't, I've seen fossils," the girl, Jenny, exclaimed.

Vastra gave her an amused look, as though her knowledge through fossils was nothing compared to her own knowledge, which it wasn't, "I was there."

"Well, that's all well and good," the inspector rolled his eyes, already used to the odd remarks that often came from the green woman, "But what's this dinosaur fellow doing in the Thames?"

Vastra would have been a bit surprised that the man was taking such a thing so well, a dinosaur just appearing in the middle of the town, but, then again, the man had seen his fair share of odd happenings between herself being a lizard woman and her 'manservant' being an alien Sontaran, "It must have time traveled. Jenny?" she looked at the girl who quickly held up her arm, scanning the dinosaur with a small device affixed to her wrist.

"Time traveled?" now THAT was what had done the inspector in, of all the odd things, this took the cake. Time travel?

Vastra didn't get a chance to answer before the dinosaur suddenly stilled and began to violently cough, distracting them, "Is it choking?"

Jenny frowned as she took in the readings on her device, "There seems to be something lodged in its throat."

"How could it time travel?" the Inspector asked, still stuck on that.

"I don't know," Vastra started to smile as she saw the scan Jenny was running home in on just what the beast was choking on, "Perhaps it was something it ate."

Not a moment later, with one last cough, a small, blue, police telephone box flew out of the dinosaur's mouth, spinning in the air frantically before it seemed to still and gently float down to the ground just at the edge of the river. While the crowd stared in awe, gasping at the turn of events, the Inspector wasted no time in starting to push the crowds aside to get closer to the odd box that Vastra and her associates were already heading for, "Stand back. Stand back, stand back!" he didn't bother to get too close though, choosing instead to lean over the rail at the edge of the waters and call out to Vastra, "Well, it's just laid an egg."

Vastra paused in her movements, turning to face the man with a rather alarmed expression, "It's dropped a blue box marked 'Police' out of its mouth. Your grasp of biology troubles me," she shook her head and continued on with Jenny and Strax as they slowly approached the box.

"It's the TARDIS," Jenny whispered to her, a note of anxiety in her voice, it WAS rather odd to see the box just fly out like that and nearly crash.

"It would seem so," Vastra agreed.

Jenny sighed and looked over at the Inspector, nearly shooing him, "We'll take care of this, Inspector."

"But what if that thing goes on the rampage?" the man called, gesturing at the dinosaur.

Vastra huffed, pulling a lantern affixed to a small pole from a bag draped beside her, holding it out to the Inspector, "Place these lanterns on the shoreline and bridges, encircling the creature at 20-foot intervals."

"What will they do?" the man asked, eyeing the poles as though he'd just been handed a rock.

"They will emit a signal that will incline it to remain within their circumference. Jenny," she spun on her heel back to Strax and Jenny, "Strax...with me."

They headed down the small steps that led onto the bank, quickly making their way to the bright blue box that appeared to be smoking a little. It was starting to worry them how it was just sitting there, normally the doors would open and Ayla would rush out of them, jumping into their arms as though expecting them to be standing there. But there was no motion at all, no movement, not even a sound from inside, it was truly very worrying a thing.

"So it's him, then, the Doctor?" Jenny inquired in a hushed tone. To her, it had to be JUST him in there, Angel and her daughter would have already stepped out to greet them, "What about Angel and Ayla?"

"I believe it is the Tailor now," Vastra remarked offhandedly, recalling a small missive she'd received about the young girl and the name she had chosen to call herself by.

"Oi," Jenny huffed, knowing that Vastra only did that, wave off or ignore a question when she was too focused on something else, and her tone of voice told her enough that Vastra was just as worried.

Vastra gave her an apologetic smile, "A giant dinosaur from the distant past has just vomited a blue box from outer space, this is not a day for jumping to conclusions. Strax, if you wouldn't mind?" she gestured to the box.

Strax gave a bodily nod and stomped over to the box, lifting his hand to knock…when the door opened and a young woman stuck her head out, a girl with strawberry blonde hair and Ayla's eyes, though she appeared to be about 16 years of age instead of the mere 6 that they'd met her last, "Hello Strax!" she smiled, "Sorry, just give us a mo. Dad's being difficult," before she quickly shut the door.

Jenny blinked at that, "Was that…" she glanced at Vastra.

"I do believe so," Vastra nodded, "It seems it has been many more years, decades even, for them from last we saw them."

"THAT was Ayla?" Jenny's eyes widened. Yes, she knew all about time travel and yes she had seen a different version of the Doctor and Angel here and there, but she hadn't ever actually seen them age. She'd thought they were rather more immortal than that, but there had been Ayla, er, the Tailor, looking like a teenager.

"It appears so," Vastra remarked.

"It IS the boy then?" Strax looked over at that.

"Girl, Strax," another voice spoke as the door opened, Angel poking her head out, thankfully looking the same as the last time they'd met which was a relief, "She's a girl, our daughter."

"Yes!" a second voice joined them, a very noticeable Scottish drawl to it as an older man with bushy eyebrows and gray hair stuck his head out beside Angel, "We were being chased by a giant dinosaur, but I think I managed to give it the slip," he smiled at Angel, "With some help from my girls," he added, leaning in to give her a quick kiss.

Angel shook her head, "And nearly crashed us into the river till I took over," she nudged him back into the ship, and turned to glance at the others, "Just another moment, sorry," she offered, "Sissy is a bit temperamental at the moment," she winced, hearing a very loud grinding noise from inside, "And very cross, best not to crowd her till she's settled."

Vastra gave her a small nod at that and the woman quickly headed back inside, leaving the three to glance at each other, a small concern growing as they realized that they hadn't seen Clara. The only thing that could explain the Doctor regenerating, for clearly that had to be the Doctor with the new and improved eyebrows, Angel would not allow another man to kiss her so, would be something dangerous and far too deadly had happened, and if he'd regenerated, it would have been because he'd died trying to save someone.

They hoped he succeeded in saving Clara, the girl, from what they knew, had died far too many times already to save him and his family.

Not a moment later, the door was forcefully thrown open, the Doctor peering out at Strax with a very suspicious look in his eyes, "Sleepy?"

"Sir?" Strax blinked.

But the Doctor just stepped out of the box completely, staring at him more, "Bashful? Sneezey? Dopey?" he gasped, suddenly pointing at him as though he'd gotten his answer, "Grumpy!" and then he noticed Vastra and Jenny standing just a few feet away, "Oh, you two! The green one...and the not-green one. Or it could be the other way round, I mustn't prejudge! Oh, you remember, er..." he pointed at the TARDIS as the doors opened and Angel stepped out, Tailor beside her, "My magnificent Mate and my lovely daughter," he smiled at them, only to frown when he caught sight of Clara, "And the other one…the not-us one, the asking-questions one?" he huffed, "Names, not my area."

Clara glanced warily at Angel and Tailor, seeing faintly worried looks on their faces, "Um, it's not supposed to be like that is it?" she asked them quietly, she vaguely recalled what regeneration was, but she couldn't quite remember if his reaction was normal.

He'd seemed so calm at first, almost like his old self, especially when he looked at Angel or Tailor, he'd talked just like he used to also, but then the TARDIS had been crashing and it seemed like that last hint of his old self had fled his mind and, well, she didn't know what this new him was supposed to be like. It was like the last lingering bits of his old personality were gone after the crashing started and now there was a new person in his place, but even HE didn't seem to know what this new him was like.

"It can be," Angel began slowly, "Minor bouts of amnesia CAN be normal," she tried to remind and reassure herself. She was fairly certain that the Doctor hadn't forgotten her or Tailor, which was an inordinate relief, but that didn't mean she wanted him to forget Clara instead. The girl was his proclaimed 'sister' and she wanted their family to stay together. There had been far too much trying to separate them over the years. She just had to remind herself that there HAD been a time where he'd forgotten even his closest friends for a few hours and nearly strangled one of them just after regenerating. She was sure it wouldn't come to that, the Doctor would never hurt Clara, but still, she really hoped that this small bout of amnesia would fade with time, he just had to settle and he WOULD remember Clara.

"It's Clara, dad," Tailor called, moving over to her father's side.

"Well," he nodded as though accepting her answer, "It might be Clara, might not be, it's a lottery."

"It IS Clara," Clara agreed.

"Well, I'm not ruling it out!"

"She's your sister, dad," Tailor began again, reaching out to take his hand, getting him to focus on her more than the sounds of the dinosaur roaring that seemed to be irritating him, "My aunt Clara?"

"Ooh again with the aunts and uncles," he rolled his eyes, though Tailor could see a playful glint in it, "You've more human family than you would have had Time Lord."

"Which is just as well," Tailor nodded, "Humans are fantastic."

That earned a chuckle from the Doctor and seemed to calm him down some from his racing mind.

"Oh Vastra," Angel sighed, glancing at the dinosaur and back to the lizard woman, "Could you please turn down the frequency in your sonic lanterns? It's hurting her ears."

"Her?" Jenny glanced over at the dinosaur again, she'd thought Vastra was joking about the gender.

Angel smiled, "Yes, her."

"Better be her," the Doctor strode over to her, pointing at her in a mock-warning manner, "I'll not have you flirting with other men," he looked over her shoulder to the dinosaur and shouted at it, "And I'll not have you flirt with her either, man or woman or reptile!"

"Well that's too bad," Vastra jested, giving Jenny a reassuring look that she wasn't planning to flirt with Angel anyway.

"Yes," the Doctor spun around, standing in front of Angel as though trying to block her from Vastra now, "No flirting with my Mate. Only I flirt with my Mate."

"Doctor," Angel put a reassuring hand on the middle of his back and stepped to his side, "No one would flirt with me anyway."

"Jack did."

Angel blinked, "That was centuries ago," she reminded him.

"Was it?" he mused distractedly.

"He's my brother now," Angel continued carefully, moving around to stand in front of him now, looking up at him. His face was pinched in what seemed to be anger and pain and confusion.

"Tailor," Clara whispered to the young woman who seemed to be more amused by her new-father than alarmed, "I think something's gone wrong."

"Wrong?" the Doctor spun around to face her, having heard her, "What's gone wrong? Have you regenerated?"

"Well…no," Clara murmured, trying to think back to her time as a Time Lady, she couldn't remember ever having regenerated, it seemed like she'd died in her first incarnation during the war.

"I remember you!" the Doctor suddenly shouted, pointing right in the middle of her face, making her go cross eyed, "You're Handles! You used to be a little...a little robot head, and now you..." he eyed her, frowning, "You've really let yourself go. But, then again, Clara's not doing much better over there," he jerked his thumb over at Strax.

Clara seemed to be getting irritated now more than worried, "He's not Clara. I'm Clara."

"Well, you're very similar heights," the Doctor shrugged, not seeming to care, "Maybe you should wear labels," he leaned in to eye her a moment before stepping back quickly, "Why...why are you all doing that? Why are you..." he blanched, paling and seeming to go a bit green, "You're all going dark...and wobbly…stop that!"

Clara glanced over at Angel, seeing the woman looked very worried now and was moving closer to the Doctor as Tailor spoke, "I don't think they're the ones going wrong, dad…"

"Never mind!" the Doctor waved her off, seeming to notice the concern in her eyes and not wanting his daughter to worry about him, "Everyone..." he smiled, "Take five," before falling backwards in a dead faint, only to be caught by Angel who had seemed to know that this was going to happen and caught him, Clara rushing forward to help her gently lay him onto the ground.

For how skinny he appeared to be now, he still was rather heavy.

"Ok," Clara took a breath, looking to Angel and Tailor for their next move, "What do we do?"

Angel sighed, "He's regenerated, a new cycle of regenerations," she mused, "It's going to take a lot of out of him," she glanced at Vastra, "May we borrow a room Vastra?" she asked the lizard, "He needs rest."

Vastra just gave her a soft smile and a nod, "Here we go again."

~8~

Vastra shook her head as she stood behind Jenny, Clara, and Tailor just outside a closed door to one of the bedrooms of her home. The three young women all had their ears pressed against the door to hear Angel and the Doctor talking within the room. Well, not so much talking as Angel trying to calm the Doctor down.

Apparently waking up in a strange bedroom had not gone over well for him.

"She's not here is she?!" the Doctor was shouting, though they could all tell he wasn't yelling at Angel but just yelling in general.

~8~

"Who?" Angel asked, shaking her head as she sat on the end of the bed, looking at the Doctor as he frantically searched the room, checking in the closet, under the bed, behind the curtains, for what she genuinely didn't know.

"River."

Angel blinked, "River Song?" she shook her head, "Why would she be here?"

"Well I wake up in a strange bedroom what else am I supposed to think but that she kidnapped me!" he spun around to face her, moving to quickly get on his knees before her, taking her hands, "I'm trying to escape! She'll not hold me from you, ever, never ever again."

Angel smiled softly at that and reached out to touch his face, her smile growing more as he turned his head immediately to lean into her touch, lifting his other hand to press her hand more firmly to his cheek. It felt…odd to him, different, his skin felt less soft and firm than before, more wrinkled, like the end of his last self. He'd wanted to be a young man for her again, be someone that could keep up with her and have all the energy and strength in the world to be there for her and protect her…and what did he get? An old man just like his first regeneration cycle.

What foul luck.

Still, Angel didn't seem to mind as she lightly stroked his cheek with her thumb, not even seeming to care that his skin was older, that his hair was grayer, and why would she? It was still the Doctor. New outside, but same insides, same soul. And, if she was being very honest with herself, she felt like her current incarnation was a bit older looking, she'd felt, sometimes, that it looked odd to see her and the Doctor together in his last self. She seemed a little too old for that him, but she felt just perfect for this new him.

Maybe it was his way of regenerating to fit her this time.

"I know she wouldn't," she murmured, "You've proven more than once that no one can hold you for long"

"Except you," he looked at her, staring straight into her eyes so she would know he was being honest, "You and Tailor, you are the only ones I'd let hold me for any length of time you want."

She smiled at that, "The feeling is mutual, my love."

His eyes closed suddenly at that, heaving out a sigh of relief that confused her. It must have drifted over to him through their emotional bond for he looked up at her, "I'm still your love?" he would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid that she'd see him as being too different, that she'd change her mind about them being Mates, about everything he'd done to her and everything that he'd done that had hurt her, and want to walk away.

What a strange turn of events, for so long it had been Angel that had been fearful he would change his mind about her and now here he was with the same fear.

"You will always be my love, my Mate, my thief," she leaned in to give him a gentle kiss, 'My Theta,' she added through their mental link.

'My psychic,' he returned, 'My Nella.'

Angel inhaled a little at that, she always loved when he called her by her true name. She pulled away from him a bit and looked at him, "Are you feeling better now? Calmer?"

"Yes," he nodded, opening his eyes to look at her, but a small frown came onto his face, "But I do have one question…"

"What is it?"

"Who invented this room?"

She blinked, "What?"

"It doesn't make sense," he stated, "Look," he stood, pulling her up with him and gesturing at the bed, "It's only got a bed in it. Why is there only a bed in it?"

Angel seemed amused by that, of all the other furniture he could select, he picked the bed, "It IS a BED-room, my love, it's in the name. You remember what a bed is for don't you?" she glanced at him, seeing a pink flush springing to his cheeks, "It's meant to sleep in."

He coughed at that, "Yes, yes, right, of course," he coughed again, clearly that hadn't been the thought going through his mind, which was just as well, she KNEW what he was thinking but had said what she had to tease him, "But what do you do when you're awake?"

"Leave the bedroom," Angel stated, her grin growing more outwardly teasing, "Or have a lie in. There are plenty of activities to be done in a bed besides sleeping," she glanced away from him innocently when his head snapped to look at her, wide eyed, "Reading, writing, knitting, watching the telly…"

The Doctor swallowed hard, honestly not seeming to know if she was teasing him or truly being that innocent, so he did what he did best whenever something got to be too much for him to handle, he switched topics, "Why do you keep talking like that?" he asked her, "What's gone wrong with your accent?"

Angel glanced at him curiously, "MY accent hasn't changed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he frowned.

She just laughed lightly, "It seems that this time it was YOU that picked up a bit of Amy instead," she told him, "You've gone Scottish."

"No!" his eyes widened, almost seeming horrified by the notion that his accent had changed.

Angel smiled, nodding solemnly, "Which is just as well," she mused, looking back at the bed, "I missed your first accent."

He frowned at that, "My first accent wasn't…"

"The first you I met," she clarified, "'Lots of planets have a North,'" she imitated his accent, "What will you say this time? Not many planets have a Scotland I don't think…"

He shrugged, "I'll think of something," he yawned.

"Tired?"

"No."

"Doctor," she gave him a look, "Rule 3?"

He sighed but smiled at the reminder, the Doctor doesn't lie to Angel, "A bit," he looked at her, "You have a…very calming effect, my dear. The woman of peace indeed."

Angel shook her head at that, she knew that with all the regeneration energy bouncing around and bottled up inside him, he should, by rights, be bounding off the walls and completely wound up, but he'd grown calmer and calmer as they talked. She didn't even want to imagine what he'd be like if she'd left this to Vastra or Clara to handle him, he'd probably be shouting that the mirror was furious and that rooms with beds were pointless.

"Well then," she brought herself to the present, "You should rest, shouldn't you?"

He just pouted at that.

"Oh no," she shook her head, "You've just regenerated, you're going to need your rest."

"But I'm not THAT tired."

"Please," she reached out to take his hand, "For me?" he seemed on the verge of giving in when she brought up one last plea that did him in, "The first time I ever saw you regenerate," she reminded him softly, "I don't want that to happen again," she looked at him, "You were in so much pain, you were so vulnerable, I just want you to be ok this time."

He let out a breath already knowing that he'd have gone right to bed just because she'd said please never mind the extra incentive, "Alright," he nodded.

Angel smiled and moved to help him into bed, pulling back the covers and tucking him in once he was lying down.

"When did I get in to my jammies?" he raised an eyebrow, as though JUST realizing that he was dressed in a white sleeping gown instead of his purple suit.

Angel smiled mischievously at that, "Strax insisted it was proper decorum for a soldier of your status to be outfitted for bed instead of dropped on the sofa."

His eyes widened at that, "He didn't…"

"He was very gentle dressing you," Angel chuckled under her breath, amused, "Refused to let anyone else help."

The Doctor flopped back onto the bed, his reply being cut off by a wide yawn.

"Go to sleep, my love," Angel whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

The Doctor reached out and took her hand as she moved to go, "Stay."

She smiled and moved back to the bed, the Doctor shuffling over and lifting the covers, undoing all her tucking, to bring the sheets around her, pulling her into his arms as she cuddled up next to him, the two of them settling down.

A moment later Angel giggled under her breath.

"What is it?" the Doctor asked, sleep heavy in his voice already.

"Your eyebrows."

"What about them?"

"They tickle my forehead."

That earned a small chuckle from the Doctor, the last thing he remembered before sleep took him.

~8~

Tailor smiled to herself as she heard the room fall silent and stood, moving away from the door and gesturing the other women go with her, knowing her mother wasn't about to leave her father any time soon. She could understand, for how strong her mother had been right at the end, the emotional turmoil of watching her father grow older and taking care of him, of nearly truly losing him, it would make anyone exhausted. Her parents deserved their rest. For her it had only been hours since she'd seen them before her father regenerated, for her parents it had been centuries of fighting and protecting.

They had earned a brief respite.

"So," Clara began as they entered Vastra's sunroom, a glass room filled nearly to the brim with green plants and situated with a few plush chairs and a little table with a teapot on it, "What now?" she dropped into one of the chairs, feeling utterly exhausted.

"He'll be fine," Tailor reassured her, "He just needs rest, Aunt Clara."

Clara smiled at that, at how the girl still called her Aunt Clara, it was reassuring, the bit of normalcy and familiarity she needed in the middle of all this change. Her thoughts were cut off by the roaring of a dinosaur outside the window, drawing all their attention to it, "Is she ok?"

"Doesn't seem very happy," Jenny remarked.

"Tailor?" Clara glanced at her, "You speak dinosaur yet?"

Tailor nodded, ever since she and her parents had been onboard the Silurian ship with the dinosaurs she'd wanted to learn how to understand them more, "She's…" she frowned a bit, actually listening to what the dino was saying, "She's alone, she feels lost, because the world she knew is gone and she's somewhere new and it's scary to her," she grew quieter as she heard one last roar, "She misses her family."

"Do you miss him?" Clara asked suddenly, before seeming to realize how that was a rather terrible question to ask judging by how Vastra stiffened.

"What?" Tailor looked over.

Clara sighed, knowing she would have to ask the question again, Tailor might not be as psychic as Angel was, but the girl was almost scary in how she knew when people were lying, "The Doctor, do you…do you miss him?"

"Miss him?" Tailor seemed confused.

"The last him."

Tailor nodded a little, "I suppose," she shrugged, "I haven't really had time to process," she admitted, "I don't think I can miss the old him till I see what the new him is like."

"The new him," Clara began, trying to be delicate as Vastra seemed to be eyeing her warily now, "How did he get that face? Why's it got lines on it? It's brand-new. How can his hair be all grey? He only just got it."

Tailor's small laugh at the line of questions seemed to be what Vastra needed to relax, "It's regeneration," she said simply, "It's a lottery. It's usually random though I've heard that women can sometimes pick what they want to regenerate to look like. Men, not so much," she laughed a bit more, "Dad could have regenerated into a woman!"

Clara smiled at that, before shaking her head just imagining it, "I'm not sure the world could handle a female Doctor."

"I don't think dad could handle being a female Doctor either," Tailor told her with a grin, "He likes to joke that there's too many women already, me, mum, Aunt Idris, you," her smile faded slightly as her thoughts drifted, "On Christmas, he kept insisting mum should be the one to get the next companion."

"Why?"

"Mum's tend to be men, he thought it would even the odds."

Clara nodded at that, it made sense in a way even if it was still a little odd. Not many people she knew would be alright with their spouse having such a close relationship with someone of the opposite sex. She knew though that Angel could literally feel the Doctor's emotions regarding her and his companions, she knew without a doubt that he loved her and cared for his companions, it must be reassuring. The only one she'd ever heard of Angel having even the smallest issue with was River Song, and for good reason, the woman had used his essential brainwashing to her advantage and had done it partly to spite and hurt Angel on purpose. The Doctor, she supposed, it made a little more sense for him to be a tad jealous of Angel's companions, being men, she had had so few of them from what she knew, only two companions, but the fact that she ended up calling them brothers, for the most part, seemed to put him at ease. Whatever it was that allowed them to take on companions without the other getting jealous she was glad for.

She had no doubt that if Angel had had an issue with her that the Doctor would never have taken her as a companion or kept her as long as he had.

"Well," she cleared her throat, getting back to the present, "I'll keep my eye out for any deserving men."

Tailor smiled at that but fell silent. It didn't take much for Clara to guess where her thoughts had gone though, judging by the wistful look on her face as they spoke of companions. She knew that the Doctor and Angel both considered Tailor too young to be a designated Pilot and able to have a companion, but the girl seemed alright with it for the moment, dreaming of the day when she could be, but understanding that there was still an awful lot to learn before she would be ready. And for now, the companions her parents took became something greater to her, family.

And, speaking of family, Vastra held out two teacups to them, a warm smile on her face, "Tea?"

~8~

On the streets of London, the crowds still had not dispersed entirely from the sight of the dinosaur still pacing about, "It's not real, of course," a man was remarking to a woman beside him.

"What is it, then?"

"The government."

"The government?"

"Yeah, up to their usual tricks."

"It's a dinosaur, Alf. A real dinosaur."

"I wouldn't put it past them."

"You don't half talk a lot of rubbish, Alfie. See you don't stay out too late now," she leaned in and kissed the man on the cheek.

"You know me," the man, Alf, tried to wave off her concern.

The woman just laughed, "Yes, I do!" she agreed, giving him a pointed look as though that was the exact reason why she had told him to not stay out in the first place, before she turned to head away.

Alf watched her go till she disappeared into the dark of the night before he shook his head and turned to head in the opposite direction. He glanced up when a lamplighter lit the lamp just above him, not seeing a man in a top hate and rather heavy coat standing behind him. The man eyed Alf as he walked before quickly striding, rather stiffly, towards him, coming up beside him.

"It's the neck," Alf was muttering, staring at the dinosaur more than noticing who was near him, "That's what's wrong with it. Just don't look realistic."

"You have good eyes," the man stated, though his voice was rather flat and monotone. He glanced down, a sound of grinding gears following his movements, to pull a small set of forceps from his pocket, Alf none the wiser as he grinned over at the dinosaur, seemingly pleased that someone agreed with him about the grand hoax going on.

"Oh, I do, as it happens, very good eyes," Alf nodded, "They're my greatest gift."

"I accept," the man stated.

Alf frowned at the odd statement before he turned to actually look at the man behind him, his gaze going straight to the forceps in his hands, "What's that for?"

The man looked up at him, his eyes cold and dead, "Your gift," he stated, before turning to face him completely, revealing that his face was only half there, the other half nothing but clockwork gears through the missing skin, "I have bad eyes."

Before Alf could even move, the robotic man reached out and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him closer and lifting the forceps as he screamed…

~8~

Angel woke with a gasp though she didn't move beyond that. She glanced over to the side, seeing the Doctor sleeping soundly next to her, before she slowly started to sit up, careful not to wake him as she moved. She looked around the room a moment, trying to remember what had woken her, before her gaze was drawn out the window, to where the dinosaur was roaming. She frowned as she looked at it, sensing something was wrong but unable to really grasp what it was. She blamed her exhaustion on that, it had been an emotionally taxing day and she was very tired even now. Judging by the time, she had only been asleep not even two hours and that was hardly enough to recharge after what she'd been through. She glanced at the Doctor, it would take him even longer to feel refreshed after regenerating like he had.

She sighed, glancing at the window again, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep till she'd discovered what had woken her. She leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of the Doctor's mouth, "Rest, my love," she whispered to him before a dim flash of gold lit up the room, a similar flash appearing just outside the house, Angel heading off into the night for a brief walk, not even aware of the frown that grew on the Doctor's face as he slept on, his sleep growing more and more disturbed.

~8~

"And then?" Vastra asked as she listened intently to Tailor and Clara explaining exactly HOW they had ended up in the throat of a dinosaur.

"And then we got swallowed by a big dinosaur," Clara gave her a blank look, "You probably noticed."

"How did it happen though?" Jenny laughed, sitting on the armrest of Vastra's chair, one arm around the back and the other resting on Vastra's arm.

"I don't know," Clara shrugged, "I don't know, we were...crashing about everywhere. The Doctor was gone, the TARDIS went haywire…"

"He's not gone. He's upstairs."

"She means the last Doctor," Tailor defended, "Even I can admit that my old dad is gone and now I have a new one, it's still him, yeah, but he's different now. That's all she meant."

"Did she?" Vastra looked at Clara critically.

Clara glared at her, "Yes, that's what I meant," she huffed, "I DO know what regeneration is. I WAS a Time Lady for a little. Granted I don't remember much of it, I do remember regeneration. I'm not going to suddenly think differently of him, but until I get to know the new him I can't say that I KNOW him like I used to. Do you understand? He's the Doctor, he always will be, but he's a new Doctor, with new thoughts and new personality and new mannerisms, I just need time to see what sort of Doctor he is."

"Well said, Aunt Clara," Tailor reached out to squeeze her hand, "Dad was going to die," she explained to Vastra, "He really was, he was out of regenerations because one of his past incarnations was an idiot and wasted it. He was going to die, he was supposed to, but…the Time Lords showed him mercy and gave him another set. It was violent and painful but he got to say goodbye in the end. We were all distracted by dad that we didn't pay attention to where he'd set the TARDIS to go, he'd set her wrong and we were crashing, falling through time, and by the time mum and I got Aunt Idris under control we'd fallen out of the sky and right into a dinosaur's mouth. We were trying to get her to materialize back, outside of the dinosaur, but we were lodged in and took her with us. And here we are. Waiting till dad wakes up so we can make sure he's ok..." Tailor was silent a moment till she noticed that all three women were staring at her, "What?"

Vastra just chuckled lightly, "Defending your family, but with attitude. You sound just like your parents."

Tailor smiled at that.

~8~

The Doctor reached out an arm in his sleep, waving it about as he sniffed at the pillow beside him, his eyes flying open a moment later when his mind caught up to the fact that Angel was no longer beside him and hadn't been if the less-than-warm feel of the bed was meant to tell him anything. He sat up quickly, looking around and closed his eyes, he inhaled deeply, his eyes snapping open once more as he realized that Angel wasn't just not beside him, she wasn't even in the house!

He turned to get out of bed…only to get tangled in the sheets and fall to the floor with a flop and a groan, trying to get out of his mess…and only making himself more tangled for the effort. Eventually though he was able to extract himself, scrambling to his feet and spinning around the room as though trying to determine the best way to get out and get to Angel. He could tell that Tailor was still in the house, she was with the others, she was safe, it was Angel that wasn't there. He could feel his hearts constricting at the thought of anything happening to her because he'd been asleep. He quickly looked over, hearing the dinosaur roar. His eyes widened as he listened to the words.

It sounded like the dinosaur was TALKING to someone.

And the only person there that could talk and understand it was Angel!

"Door?" he looked at it, contemplating how much effort it would take to use that to get out of the house. No doubt the moment he stepped out of it, Strax would be waiting to escort him to the others. He'd be caught for sure and there was no time to waste in getting to Angel, and, well, to use the door? Like a normal person? That was just... "Boring," he determined, "Not me."

And so, with that, he turned and ran for the window, throwing it open and sticking his head out, grinning as he looked up at the roof, "Me!"

He quickly scampered out, grabbing onto a nearby pipe and hauling himself to the roof so that he could find a better way down to the ground. His window faced the dinosaur, he assumed that green one and the not-green one and the other one would be facing the dinosaur as well. If he tried to climb down he'd be seen and stopped. But if he made it to the roof, he could find a darker part of the house and climb down that way, unseen.

"Oi!" he spun around to face the dino, a frown on his face, "Stop it!" he shouted, "Stop flirting with her! That's MY Mate!"

Alright, the dinosaur likely wasn't actually flirting with Angel, they did seem to be talking, but there was something niggling him, a deep and profound need to be beside her. He couldn't shake it, but he felt like, even just talking to her, someone else HAD to be flirting with her. It was ridiculous, he would probably realize that eventually, to think that someone just saying hello to her would be flirting…

And then he remembered Jack and realized that it very well COULD be exactly like that. And he really should be there with his Mate, to protect her of course.

Just the thought of her being alone with someone else was driving him nearly mad. It was likely just the after affect of the regeneration, but he couldn't help it. It was like…everything Angel had ever felt about him being alone with River was coming out in him…only it wasn't just him fearing for her around one other person, but…well, everyone that wasn't family. He couldn't help but want to be around her every moment he could. It was selfish, he knew that, purely selfish, to want to be with her like that, to want to monopolize her time and attention. The only one he could even begin to comprehend sharing her with was their daughter, but other people? Men and women alike, he'd rather it just be them.

And really, what could anyone else offer her? These humans, they were so…pudding brained! Yes, that was exactly what they were. Always going off and making mistakes and leaving her and hurting her and…

Well, HE had hurt her more than anyone and he HAD to make up for that. It was like all the time he hadn't noticed her in his last body, it was reversing now. He felt like the only one he could notice was Angel and his daughter. They were the only ones worth remembering…well, them and someone else, who was it again? Strax or was it Handles? Clara? Was that her name?

Right now that didn't matter, not really, what mattered was that his Mate was somewhere else and he wasn't there and someone was talking to her. Who knew what they were saying! What if they said something sweet and made her blush? HE was the only one allowed to do that! What if they were threatening her? He wasn't there to protect her.

That was that, he was going to march right over there and right up to that dinosaur and give it a piece of his mind. Flirting with HIS Mate? Of all the low down and dirty things to do…

"Look!" he shouted once more, "I know it's all my fault you're away from your home. My time machine got stuck in your throat. It happens. We brought you along by accident, but that's no reason to flirt with MY Mate! Oi! I'm talking to you, beastie! Look, you just…you stop talking to her and I promise I will get you home. I swear, whatever it takes, I will keep you safe. You will be at home again so just stop and…"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when there was a brilliant beam of golden light that illuminated the sky, surrounding and swirling around the dinosaur.

Chapter Text

The Doctor's hearts stopped at the sight of the golden hue filling the night, because he knew that light, he recognized that light, there was only one thing that could be making it.

"Angel!" he screamed, leaping off the roof and grabbing for a tree just in front of him, never mind the pipe or other ways to shimmy down the house, they would take too long and he had to get down there NOW!

~8~

"Mum!" Tailor gasped, flying off her chair and to her feet a moment before a loud roaring sounded from the dinosaur. She ran for the window, looking out at it, Clara quickly behind her, staring out at the river where the dinosaur almost seemed to be glowing with golden light.

"The dinosaur!" Jenny cried, "What's happening to it?"

"That's got to be Angel," Clara breathed, startled, "But what's she doing?"

"I dunno," Tailor shook her head, her hearts racing. There were only two reasons why her mother would be using her power over the Vortex, and in such a large display.

Either the Vortex had taken her over again, which she doubted as it hadn't happened in decades from what she could remember of Christmas, or…something was attacking the dinosaur and she was trying to protect it…

Which meant she would vulnerable to the attacker.

Vastra sprung into action, "Strax, bring the carriage, now!"

~8~

The Doctor winced as he landed with an oomph on the ground just at the base of the tree. Apparently he had overshot his landing and, instead of grabbing onto a branch and swinging down to the ground like Tarzan…he'd essentially just fallen through branch after branch till he'd hit the ground. But whatever pain he was feeling he quickly ignored, pushing himself to his feet and running over to a road just as a horse drawn carriage trotted by.

"Halt!" he shouted and the driver paused, "Sorry, I'm going to have to relieve you of your pet!"

Polite. He had to be polite, even though his mind and hearts were screaming at him to get to Angel, to protect her, to protecthisMateprotecthisMate, he was trying to be polite. Because Angel would want him to, she wouldn't want him to turn into a monster just to get to her, she wouldn't want him to get hurt just to save her. He'd made a promise to her that he wouldn't. He had already broken too many promises to her in his lives, he was NOT going to start this new him, nor his new regeneration cycle, breaking another.

He couldn't help but glance down to his right hand, feeling a swell of anger rise in him at his knuckles, slightly wrinkled, but unblemished otherwise.

"You're what?"

He looked up, pulled from his thoughts when he heard the driver call down to him, "Shut up, I was talking to the horse!" without waiting another moment, he hurried over and jumped onto the back of the horse, flicking his sonic at the restraints tethering the animal to the carriage to cut them, before he kicked the horse on, racing down the alleys and roads towards the dinosaur.

The golden light was getting stronger, brighter, around it and he needed to be there before it flickered.

Because if it flickered, it meant that either the threat that had triggered it was gone…or the one creating the light was gone.

And he would be damned if it was the last option.

So focused was he on getting to the dinosaur that he hardly even noticed that a carriage with Strax as the driver was racing after him. He could vaguely tell that Tailor was in the carriage, he could sense her there, but even then he knew his daughter would have come to the same conclusion as he had about the light, that she would be just as worried about her mother as he was.

"Left!" he shouted at the horse as they raced on, wincing as he realized that was wrong, "No, no! Right, right, right, right! Sorry, it's my new hands, I can't tell them apart," and he really couldn't. For as long as he could remember, his right hand always had scars on the knuckles. Why would he need to remember what was left or right when the scars told him that was his right hand.

He'd have to fix that later.

~8~

Inside the carriage, Jenny gasped as they hit a bump in the road, "What do you think's happened?"

"I don't know, but I fear devilment," Vastra muttered.

Clara reached out and took Tailor's hand, seeing the girl staring out the window, her eyes wide in fear for her mother, "She'll be alright," she squeezed, "Angel's the strongest person I know. And she's got to be even stronger after having centuries to use her power."

Tailor nodded absently, her mother HAD had more time to get used to the Vortex while in Christmas, but it was mostly with shielding, creating shields, and a little bit of tricks with it. When she'd left her parents, her mother had just started a new technique with the Vortex, instead of creating a wall of a shield using the Vortex, she had been attempting to create more individualized cocoons of energy to protect individuals. There had been a moment where she'd been trying to shield a group of children from an attack, created a wall of Vortex energy, but hadn't realized that, in doing so, she was also blocking the enemies that were behind them from being struck in the crossfire. Since then she'd been trying to individualize the protection, make it so that people would be covered from attacks, leaving only the enemies vulnerable.

She doubted her mother had thought to practice so much energy towards something as big as a dinosaur though and she knew well enough that her mother, despite claiming each time she used too much of the Vortex she was learning her limits, she had little thought to herself or her limitations when she was trying to keep someone safe.

"She will be," Tailor swallowed hard, "She has dad."

"The Doctor's out there?!" Vastra cried.

"But he's not ready to leave his bed!" Jenny agreed, it had been the reason why they hadn't woken the Doctor when they saw what was happening.

Tailor just gave them a look, "Do you really believe he wouldn't know, by now, when mum's in danger and be racing off to help her?"

The other women had to agree with that, for all that Angel was psychic, the Doctor had enough emotional, mental, and physical connections to her to know when she needed him too.

"Strax!" Vastra called, "Go faster!"

~8~

The Doctor nearly leapt off his horse when he reached the closest bridge to where the dinosaur was, racing up the stairs and flying across it to the animal.

"Angel!" he shouted, frantically looking for her, and then he saw her, just before the dinosaur, on her knees, her hands up and her eyes closed as she seemed to be fighting against something.

And then he saw it, from a high building just on the other side of the river, a red light was shining out of it and at the dinosaur, trying to break its way through the golden wall that Angel had surrounded the animal in. He raced to her side, pulling the sonic out and pointing it at the beam of light, flicking it on, nearly delighting when a sound of a small explosion went off and the red beam disappeared.

He didn't even bother to look and try to see where the beam had originated, just turned and dropped to his knees before his Mate, "Angel!" he reached out, taking her face in his hands, making sure she was alright, before he pulled her into his arms, nearly crushing her against him as she shook from exertion, "Angel," he breathed against her hair, "Are you completely mad?" he pulled away from her, "What were you doing?!"

"The same thing we did on the Silurian craft," she told him, swallowing hard as she tried to catch her breath, "Saving the dinosaurs."

"They go extinct anyway," he shook his head.

"So do the humans," she reminded him quietly, thinking about the End of the Universe, "But that doesn't, nor should it, stop us saving them. Does it?"

"Not over you," he told her, meaning it in a way that was almost frightening, "Never over you or Kitta."

"I did it though," she reminded him, "I saved her," she looked over at the dinosaur, who had laid down and seemed to be weak but alive, a light near-whine sounding from it, "You're welcome," she told it.

"Oi, STOP flirting with my Mate!" the Doctor huffed at the beast with a glower.

Angel frowned at that, "She was just saying thank you."

"And Jack was 'just saying hello,' half the time," he grumbled under his breath.

Angel gave a small laugh and pulled him into another hug, "I'm fine, my love, and so is Charlotte."

"Charlotte?" he pulled back to look at her.

She gave him a teasing smile, "Good name for a dinosaur."

He felt himself smile despite how much he wanted to be cross with her for joking at a time like this, ooh dear, look at that, he was quite a bit more serious than his last self was, wasn't he? "You're not keeping the dinosaur," he told her, mimicking the interaction they'd had with Rose so long ago.

"I know," she nodded, "We need to get her back to her family, alive. We owe her that."

And speaking of, the Doctor thought as he stood suddenly, looking around as though just realizing he should really have been looking for the source of the red beam. WHAT had been trying to kill the dinosaur in the first place?

"Dad!" he spun around just as his gaze landed on the direction the beam had come from to see Tailor racing over the bridge towards him, the others behind her, and running straight into his arms, "You're supposed to be resting!" she huffed in that way only your child could, pulling away almost as quickly as she had hugged him, to poke him pointedly in the arm, before she moved to her mother, who had stood, and hugged her tightly, "You're ok," she murmured, nestling against her mother for a longer moment than she had her father, "What happened?" she looked at the dinosaur as it seemed to have fallen asleep.

"That's what I'd like to know," the Doctor stated, heading over to the edge of the river, climbing onto the bridge's ledge for a better look up at where the beam had come from.

"Someone was trying to attack Charlotte," Angel told them.

"Who or what could have done this?" Vastra called as they joined the Time Lords, Clara immediately going to hug Angel as well, seeing the woman looked a little more shaken than she wanted to let on. For Angel to call upon the Vortex to protect the dinosaur, it had to be something either powerful or alien that had done the attacking. Which was quite the displeasing notion, she worked hard to keep the area safe and keep abreast of all alien movement. For something to slip past her notice, she was not pleased at all.

"No," the Doctor shook his head at that.

"I'm sorry?"

"No. That is not the question. That is not where we start."

"The question is how!" Strax cried.

"No, no, shut up!" the Doctor huffed, "What do you all have for brains, pudding? Look at you. Why can't I meet a decent species? Planet of the pudding-brains!"

Angel had to chuckle just a little at that, he reminded her very much of the first him she'd traveled with, always insulting other species when he was upset or trying to think. She would have to call up Mickey when this was settled and ask him if being called a 'stupid ape' was better or worse than being called 'pudding brained.' She would have to call all the others up as well, now that she thought about it, they deserved to know the Doctor had regenerated, Torchwood especially.

"Dad, that's rude," Tailor pointed out, drawing Angel back to the present.

"We know you're upset," Clara added, "But you need to calm down and talk to us. What is the question?"

"A dinosaur is attacked in the heart of London," he began to ramble quickly, examining the sonic for what it might have traced about the red light before it stopped the signal, "Sonic detects that the beam that attacked it was meant to combust the organic matter it touched. The question is...have there been any similar murders?"

...a newspaper was held up, 'Fourth Case of Spontaneous Combustion' in the title...

'...you are a broom...'

...a man stood at the edge of the river, another with half his face missing reaching for him, his face expressionless...

"Yes!" Vastra gasped, Angel shaking her head out of her vision, "Yes, by the Goddess, there have!"

The Doctor, however, seemed to have lost his train of thought at continuing his assessment of the near-Jurassic murder, in favor of noticing the crowd along the embankment, none of them daring to cross the bridge to see the dinosaur more closely, "Look at them all, gawking!"

"Not all of them," Tailor remarked, having walked over to the edge of the river, leaning on the ledge beside her father, and staring out at the humans that were excitedly muttering about the turn of events, the special effects and the wonder of it all, "That one's just staring,"

The Doctor followed where she was pointing, a small flash of the 10th Doctor in him rather proud that she was pointing like he always had, to see one man in particular truly was just standing there, staring at the dinosaur, emotionless. But that wasn't all there was to him, half his face was missing, and the other half looked far too similar to the clockwork droids he'd encountered before, though a bit more primitive in design.

"Now what is he?" the Doctor mused, watching the man walk away without a backwards glance.

"He seems remarkably unmoved by the available spectacle," Vastra agreed.

Angel, however, just sighed, rubbing her forehead when the Doctor merely jumped off the ledge and into the river to swim after the man, as though expecting it.

"What he's doing?" Clara cried, rushing to where Tailor was leaning over the ledge to watch her father, "He'll drown!"

"I very much doubt it," Vastra sighed.

"Why?" Clara glanced at her.

Vastra shrugged, "There has been a murder. The Doctor has taken up the case. If we are to see him again, we must do the same."

"And if I thought, even for a moment, that he would drown, do you think I would have let him jump?" Angel added, moving over to Clara's side.

"You can't see everything," Clara reminded her, "You said it yourself."

"I see more when it comes to the Doctor," Angel remarked, shaking her head lightly, Tailor too she had a clearer sense of as well.

"But why's he doing this?" Clara asked, "He was racing through London on a horse to get to you," she looked at Angel, "And now he's just...leaving?"

Angel sighed, "He wanted me safe, that's why he came. Right now, he thinks that solving this mystery will keep all of us safe," she smiled at Clara, "Even if he's not entirely sure he remembers you, he still trusts you with me," she explained to the girl, "He trusts that I'm safe with you lot, safe enough for him to go and investigate on his own."

She was a little disheartened that he'd run off without her, but...it felt different compared to when he'd done the same after he'd regenerated last time. This felt less like him not caring enough to wait and see if she would follow, and more like he needed her to stay back, he needed to get far enough ahead of her to do something without her ending up in danger. She could feel it settling in her hearts, he wanted her safe. He hadn't fully come down from his regeneration yet, he didn't know who he was or how he would be in this body, he was still figuring it out. But one thing he did know, he wanted her safe and she was safest away from the danger.

For now, she would let him solve this case. But once he'd calmed down some, she would be having a long discussion with him about how they were best as a team and she would not be left behind like this again. If he was to rush off into danger, she ought to be right next to him. She was his Mate.

"But what if he's not safe?" Clara frowned.

"He will be," Tailor said this time, "Cos I'm gonna go with him."

Angel blinked, actually surprised and not expecting that. Well, that wasn't entirely true, she did expect something like that, but she hadn't expected it quite so soon.

"Please, mum?" Tailor turned to her mother, seeming to sense her surprise, "I won't go jumping in a river," she added jokingly, "But I can still follow the embankment, make sure dad stays out of trouble…"

Angel hesitated at that, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to go running around Victorian London by yourself, sweetheart, not when we know there's something definitely alien around and trying to hurt people."

Tailor nodded, understanding that, "I know but…" she paused, thinking of what she wanted to say, "You and dad, you're always running around, trying to protect people, and I'm your daughter, you can't expect me to sit aside for long, right?" she looked at her mother hopefully, "Mum…I spent so much of my life in Christmas, I want to see more than just that little town. I want to help, I want to protect, and…and mend," she nodded to her chosen title, "I can't do that if you don't let me try. How am I going to learn how to run safely, if you don't let me run alone at all?" she waited a moment, letting her mother consider what she'd said, "And you can sense it, can't you? Me and dad, you always sense us more than anyone. You can tell I'll be ok. I'll be with dad, he won't let anything hurt me."

Angel sighed at that, "You're right," she murmured, holding up a warning finger when Tailor nearly jumped at her to hug her, "But you stay with your father," she told her firmly, "He won't be able to focus, just as much as I won't, if you really go wandering off."

Tailor nodded enthusiastically, "Of course, yeah, yes, I promise, cross my hearts," she crossed them both, "I'll stay right with dad. Oh thank you mum!" she hugged her mother quickly before hurrying off along the embankment to follow the Doctor.

"Wow," Clara murmured.

"What?" Angel looked over at her.

"You did that easy."

"Did what?"

"Let her go," Clara shrugged, "My mum never let me go anywhere alone, right to the end…"

"Well, she is over 400 years old," Angel sighed, a small stab of sorrow hitting her at how grown up her daughter was. Only a little less than four hundred years to go and Tailor would be the same age as she had been when she began her travels with the Doctor.

"Yeah, but to any parent, their baby is always their baby."

"True," Angel nodded, "She'll be with the Doctor, she'll be fine."

"You saw that?" Clara glanced at her.

Angel smiled at that despite the fact that she shook her head that it had not been a vision reassuring her, "No, but I KNOW that. There is no one in the universe she'll be safer with than the Doctor."

Clara just gave her a look as though she'd gone mad, "Have you MET him?"

Angel just laughed at that, for as terrible as his luck and sense of self-preservation was, he would do anything to keep their daughter safe and himself safe for her.

~8~

Clara sighed only hours later as she poured a pitcher of water into a basin next to the bed she'd been given by Vastra, wetting a cloth and preparing to wash as best for the day she could when she heard a commotion from outside…and Angel laughing.

"Come on, Earthling scum!" Strax was shouting, "Position it here. Easy now! That's it. Careful."

Clara headed over to the window and pushed it open, leaning out into the morning light to see Strax was directing two men into unloading the TARDIS in Vastra's courtyard, a rolled up newspaper in his hand though she could see Angel holding the alien's blaster behind her back, clearly having been the one to order the switch. She didn't know how as it was rather early, but Angel was already wide awake and dressed for the day. She could tell that the woman was making an effort to get the TARDIS in a better mood as she was wearing a corseted, high necked simple dress for the times, long sleeved, but made of white and TARDIS blue stripes in a vertical position, Her hair was curled and held up in a high ponytail by a TARDIS blue ribbon.

"Don't get it scratched or you and all your bloodline will be obliterated from time and space!" Strax threatened.

"Very good, sir," one of the men merely chuckled at him.

"Thank you for your help," Angel stepped over to shake the hands of the two men, "It was very much appreciated, Joseph, Samuel," she nodded at the men who seemed surprised that she either knew their names or remembered them.

"Thank you, ma'am," the younger of the two men nodded at her for her kindness.

"It was very nice to meet you."

Clara had to shake her head at that, so many adventures with the woman and it still surprised her how genuine Angel was when she said that. She always said it was nice to meet someone, and she always meant it, truly meant it. She found everyone that she met to be interesting and valuable and worth knowing. It was refreshing.

"Oi!" Clara called down to them.

"Clara!" Angel smiled, turning around to face her, "Good morning."

"Morning, Miss Clara," Strax echoed, "You're awake at last."

"You got the TARDIS, then?"

Angel sighed at that, "Sissy's still rebuilding from the crash," she explained, "She won't open till she's fully repaired, for our safety, we had to come up with another way to get her here, but it's all worked out."

"Military tactics, too!" Strax added, "The Doctor is still missing, but he will always come looking for his box. By bringing it here, he will be lured from the dangers of London to this place of safety, and we will melt him with acid."

"Where we will what, Strax?" Angel looked over at him, an eyebrow lifted.

"Er…greet him with honor?"

"Very good," Angel patted him on the head, making Strax grin.

"Oh, the Times," Strax jumped a bit, seeming to remember that he was holding the paper in his hands, and looking up at Clara, "Shall I send it up?"

"Yeah, why not?" Clara shrugged.

"Actually," Angel reached out and plucked the paper out of Strax's hands as he clearly intended to throw the paper right up to her, replacing it with his returned blaster, "I'll bring that up, shall I?" she shook her head at Strax and turned to Clara, "Meet me in the kitchen when you're dressed, alright?"

Clara nodded and pulled herself back into the bedroom.

~8~

Clara smiled to herself as she stepped out of her bedroom, now dressed in a period gown, her hair curled and pulled to the top of her head. She paused as she looked at her reflection in a mirror, her smile falling just a tad when she realized she looked rather like when she'd been a governess, Clara Oswin Oswald, but she shook the thought away and continued down the hall, nodding a greeting to Jenny as the woman came up the stairs, "Jenny!"

"Ah, good morning, Clara," Jenny smiled.

"Morning. Erm," she leaned in a bit, "So what are we going to do? Are we looking for the Doctor?"

"We've got the Paternoster Irregulars out in force," Jenny reassured her, "Though Angel's told us it's not necessary, but still, it's peace of mind for us. Meanwhile, Madame Vastra is slightly occupied by the Conk-Singleton forgery case. And is having the Camberwell child-poisoner for dinner..."

Clara hesitated at how Jenny had said that last part, "For dinner?"

"After she's finished interrogating him. Probably best to stay out the larder. It'll get a bit noisy in there later."

"Oh…" Clara blinked, it appeared Vastra was really having someone FOR dinner. She shook her head at that though and headed down the stairs, wandering till she'd reached the kitchen to see Angel preparing tea, "Angel!"

Angel looked up and smiled at her, "Hello Clara, the Times are there," she nodded to the newspaper lying on the counter.

"Thanks," she reached for the paper, giving it a tentative glance when Angel pushed her a small cup of tea as well, "Thanks," she repeated.

"Just be grateful Strax is out gardening at the moment."

"Do I want to know why?" Clara sipped her tea.

Angel chuckled, "Let's just say…never let Strax prepare tea. His idea of water is any sort of water, even dirty mop water."

Clara grimaced at that, falling into a small silence before asking the question that had been on her mind since she saw the TARDIS earlier, "No sign of the Doctor or Tailor then?" she doubted Vastra would have sent out help looking for the duo if they'd been found.

"Not one that Vastra would notice," Angel remarked quietly, thinking on it, she knew where her child and Mate were, but she was trying to refrain from teleporting there to them. They needed this bonding, they were the very adventurous ones. She could teach her daughter all she needed to know about being a Pilot or fixing a TARDIS, how to fly, but the only one that could teach her how to run and be safe, was the Doctor. And he had so much on his mind at the moment, trying to sort himself out, if SHE joined them also, he'd be doubly worried over the two of them instead of just one, it was for the best, this time, that she stay back for the moment, "But I would know if anything was wrong. They're both just fine."

Clara just smiled at that. She could remember a time where Angel was afraid that she would miss something related to her daughter or Mate, that she would fear they would be in trouble but not have sensed it in time. She supposed that having spent centuries alone with them on Christmas has strengthened her bonds with them. She no longer sensed that fear from the woman but more a confidence that she WOULD know if something happened or if they needed her. Whatever it was, she was grateful for it.

~8~

"Looking for something, dad?" a voice called, distracting the Doctor from how he was sifting through the rubbish in an alley, and over to the source of the voice, his daughter, standing there with a very thick, warm coat in her arms.

"Sorry, what?" he blinked.

Tailor smiled and moved over, holding the coat open and helping him into it, she'd had a feeling that her father would need something warm to wear after his dip in the Thames and had snuck one of the coats Vastra stored in the back of her carriage out on her way to follow her father, "It's bitey out," she shrugged, "Even Time Lords would get cold in this."

"Yes, cold," the Doctor nodded, taking a deep breath and wincing at how the chill seemed to fill his lungs, "Cold, I knew it was a thing," he muttered, glancing at his daughter, "Don't happen to have a big, long scarf do you?"

Tailor laughed, "I think you've moved on from that, Dad."

"Yes, yes," he agreed, "It looked stupid anyway," he paused, glancing into a piece of glass window of a shop not yet opened, turning his face this way and that to try and observe his new face, not having really taken time to see what he looked like, "Have you seen this face before, sweetheart?"

Tailor couldn't help but smile wider at that, at how he called her sweetheart. It had been what her father called her, what he always called her, right from the start, even his prior incarnations had called her it and she would be lying if she said that she wasn't a little afraid that this new him wouldn't call her that any more. But she was relieved that he did, it helped a lot that, despite how different he already was, that there was something that he had in common with his last self, even if it was something as small as a pet name.

"I feel like it's familiar," she remarked, "But I don't think I've ever seen it before," she considered it, how intently he was looking at his face "Maybe mum does. She remembers everyone."

"That she does," he agreed, straightening, "It's just funny, because...I'm sure that I have. You know," he looked at Tailor, buttoning up the jacket, "I never know where the faces come from. They just pop up. Zap! Faces like this one," he glanced back at the glass, his expression growing more thoughtful and even a bit sad, "It's covered in lines, but I didn't do the frowning. Who frowned me this face? Why this one? Why did I choose...this face?" he felt like he had chosen it. Typically the male Time Lords didn't really choose how they looked, but then again, it was rare to regenerate right into a new cycle, maybe there was a glitch in his system or something. Whatever it was, he felt like he knew this face, "It's like I'm trying to tell myself something, like I'm trying to make a point. But what is so important that I can't just tell myself what I'm thinking?"

"Knowing you, dad, it could be anything under the sun, any sun, in any system, in any galaxy."

The Doctor let out a small chuckle at that, "Too right," he turned to face his daughter entirely, "So what do you think?" he held out his arms, "About the face, about me?"

Tailor blinked and eyed him, seeing he was being very serious in the question, he wanted to know and badly what she thought, "What do YOU think?"

"I don't like it," he sighed, dropping his arms, "It's alright up until the eyebrows," he seemed to frown at that, thinking about Angel's earlier remark that his eyebrows had tickled her, they WERE thick weren't they? Bushy too, "Then it just goes haywire. Look at the eyebrows! These are attack eyebrows. You could take bottle tops off with these! And they're cross! They're crosser than the rest of my face. They're independently cross. They probably want to cede from the rest of my face and set up their own independent state of eyebrows."

"Very Scottish of them," Tailor had to joke, recalling how her mother had reminded him he had a Scottish accent now. The Doctor fell silent at that, making Tailor's little grin fall, "Dad," she called, getting his attention, "What's this about? I've never seen you this worried about what you looked like before. You were brave enough to wear a stick of celery and pull it off," she reminded him, "And you know regeneration is a lottery, for the most part you can't really control it, can't change it…"

"What do YOU think about it?" he asked her again.

"Why does it matter?" he was quiet, and then the answer came to her, "You're worried about what MUM will think, aren't you?" all of it had stemmed from her saying that he should ask her mother where his face came from if he was so certain that he'd seen it before. After that he'd done nothing but remark on his face and what he thought, wanting to know what she thought too, "Dad," she laughed, "Mum will love you no matter what. You know it doesn't matter to her what you look like so long as you're still you."

"But WHO am I now?" he shook his head, "Am I grumpy? Am I a complainer? Am I rude? Don't say it," he held up a finger to her, just knowing she was going to say he was always rude, "Am I…" he sighed, "Am I the sort of man she'll love?"

"Yes," Tailor moved over to hug him, seeing he was genuinely getting upset about all of it, "You are. Cos I love you. You're my daddy, you always will be. Just like you're mum's Mate, and you always will be. We both love you, rude or not-rude, bushy eyebrows or delicate, Scottish or not."

The Doctor felt himself smile at that, reassured more by his daughter's hug than her words, she was just like her mother in that, could just make you feel better without really trying, "Thank you, sweetheart."

Tailor smiled at that, pulling away, "For what it's worth though, I do like the eyebrows. You looked really weird before without them."

"Oi!"

Tailor giggled, "And I think you and mum fit better like this, a little bit older. Makes it more believable that you're my dad this time," she rolled her eyes playfully, recalling a time or two where a generation or two of people in Christmas had thought she was the Doctor's younger sister, in the short time before he'd started to age so old and she had still looked older, "And with you being all cross and Scottish, it's sort of like having Aunt Amy here too."

He nodded at that, though he still couldn't help but wonder what Angel really would think of the new him once everything had settled and they'd had time to process it all.

Tailor sighed, seeing he was still worried. She studied him a moment longer, "You feel like there's something missing, don't you?" she asked. His expressions actually hadn't changed much from his last self. She could recognize the one he wore now, or something close to it, it was the face he always made when he felt like there was something staring him in the face and he was missing it. She doubted it was where his face came from as they'd dealt with that topic already.

He nodded, reaching up his right hand to rub his cheek in thought...and then it hit him. He pulled his hand away from his face, stared at the skin on the back for just a moment...

Before turning and punching his fist through the glass of the shop.

"Dad!" Tailor gasped, rushing over to him, carefully pulling his hand to her to check the damage. He'd gone and cut his knuckles all up, "Dad, what were you thinking!?" she fussed over him, searching her pockets of her own coat for something to help and pulled out a TARDIS blue handkerchief one of the children on Christmas had made for her (well he wasn't technically a child any longer. He'd been a sweet boy, seemed sweet on her but...she just hadn't felt anything more than she did for him compared to how she viewed all the other children she'd watched grow old and pass on. That and he was only 10 when she'd last seen him, so she was sure it was just a sweet boyhood crush on her) and wrapped it around his bleeding hand, "Mum's going to kill you," she huffed, "Does it hurt?" she looked up at him, seeing him not frowning or pouting in pain but...smiling, "Dad?"

He just hummed, glancing at her, seeming far too pleased with what he'd done, with the damage he'd done to himself, "I'm fine, sweetheart."

"You just punched a window," she deadpanned, "That doesn't say fine to me."

"Really?" he frowned at that thought, "It does to me."

It...was actually the best decision he'd made so far, really. Now he knew which hand was his right one, he had reached the end of his regeneration cycle 20 minutes ago, 15 hours had gone by like the blink of an eye between flying a crashing TARDIS and sleeping and swimming and exploring the alleys. His regeneration energy wouldn't heal his hand, and by the time he sorted out this business with the dinosaur and made it back to Angel, his knuckles would already be scarred over, too late to heal, and they hadn't even begun to train Tailor up in the use of the Vortex yet so she couldn't heal him either. All in all, he was pleased as anything right now, almost giddy really.

"That's not a good thing, dad," Tailor frowned, "You can't just go hurting yourself..."

"I wasn't," he promised her, taking her hand with his uninjured one, "I was just...making sure of something."

"What?" she shook her head, not understanding. Why would someone, given a fresh body and clean slate with it, hurt themselves like that?

"I'm fine," he continued, "I promise," he crossed his hearts, "No more smashing windows."

Tailor hesitated, not sure if she should believe him, he HAD just randomly put his hand through one and seemed happy about it, but she sighed, maybe it was just the tail-end of the regeneration? She didn't know, but she would definitely be telling her mother about this, "Fine," she sighed, "But I'm keeping an eye on you," she gave him a quick hand motion of poking at her eyes and then pointing at him, making him chuckle.

"I'd expect nothing less," he reasoned, "That IS why you followed me, isn't it?"

Tailor flushed a bit at being caught out, "Actually, I wanted to assist the investigation," she defended, "And...guess what I found," she reached into her pocket, fishing around for a paper she'd snatched earlier in her tailing him, they both needed a distraction right now, "Look," she pulled a small folded newspaper out and held it up to him.

And right there, in the headlines, was 'Fourth Case of Spontaneous Combustion.'

The Doctor quickly reached out and took the paper from her, scanning the article a moment before he glanced at her, a hint of a playful smile on his face, "Would you be insulted if I said I blame the English?"

Tailor just laughed.

~8~

Vastra was very focused on her work as she stood before an easel in her studio later that day, Jenny standing before her in a white corset and shift, a shawl around her shoulders as she posed, "Hmm!" Vastra murmured under her breath, "Spontaneous combustion!"

"Is that like love at first sight?" Jenny wondered, trying to flirt, feeling rather bold, as she always did with Vastra...the less she was wearing.

"Huh!" Vastra leaned towards the easel to mark something on it, "A little. It is the theory that human beings can, with little or no inducement, simply explode."

"You don't need to flirt with me, we're already married," Jenny smirked

But Vastra seemed to completely miss that, "It's scientific nonsense, of course."

Which made Jenny frown, "Marriage?"

"Hush! There have been nine reported incidents of people apparently exploding in the last month."

"And you think they weren't spontaneous."

"I think whoever tried to kill the dinosaur had at least nine previous victims," Vastra glanced out the window, towards the river where the dinosaur was still resting, a series of guards in the area to keep it safe from any more attempts, a device added to the sonic lanterns to scan for any other alien tech that might try again. She shook her head and focused back on the easel, reaching out to turn it around, revealing a map with different newspaper clippings pinned to it, notes jotted around it with her thoughts, "All of these perished in the same spectacular fashion."

Jenny huffed, dropping her arms, cross now, "I thought you were painting me!"

"I was working," Vastra said simply.

"Well, why am I posing then?"

"Well, you brighten the room tremendously. Chin up a little," she reached out to tap Jenny's chin up, gesturing for her to pose once more.

Jenny rolled her eyes but did as she was bid, "Oh, I don't understand why I'm doing this!"

"Art?" Vastra offered, which only served to make Jenny huff once more and break her pose to move over to the easel and papers, looking them over herself, "Now, why destroy the victims so completely? It's difficult, it draws attention, what advantage is to be gained?"

"There's nothing to see," a gentle voice spoke as Angel stepped into the room with Clara, "Humans, they hardly give any pause to consider what they can't see."

She could recall quite a few moments where there had been something there and the humans waved it off just because they couldn't see it, like the nanogenes with Jack.

"It does seem to be the case with the apes," Vastra considered it, "By destroying the body so completely, you conceal what is missing from it."

"Missing from the body?" Jenny grimaced at that, thinking that the something had been taken from the bodies first.

"Yes," Vastra sighed, "There's no other reason to destroy a body unless there was something about it you didn't want others to know about. Get rid of all the evidence and there's nothing suspicious to be observed from the remains," she glanced at Jenny, "It makes perfect sense."

"What doesn't make sense is this though," Clara stepped forward, the paper in her hands as she held it open for Vastra and Jenny to see the adverts.

"Advertisements, yes, so many, it's a distressing modern trend."

"No, look!" Clara put it down on a table to point to one that read 'Impossible Girl,' "Look."

Vastra's eyes widened at that, "Well…"

"But why's that strange?" Jenny shook her head, seeing the same line, "It's got to be from the Doctor right? He's the one that calls you 'Impossible Girl.'"

"That's what doesn't make sense," Angel murmured, "The Doctor doesn't need to get our attention like this, he knows where we are, as does Tailor, he could just phone us or come here, or send me a message in my head. But he hasn't."

Clara looked at her intently, thinking of the tone Angel had taken, "You don't think it's from him, do you?"

"No," Angel shook her head, "I think someone is trying to get BOTH our attentions."

"But who?"

Angel could only bite her lip as she considered it, hoping that a vision of some sort might hit her and clear the matter up. But, as always, there was always something she just couldn't see. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach, like a tingling at the edge of her awareness though. It wasn't the first time she'd felt something like it. She knew what it meant, it was a feeling she was getting, something telling her she SHOULD be able to sense this or understand what it all meant, but it was alluding her. She'd felt the same thing when she'd seen the Bad Wolf signs, when she'd noticed all the mentions of Torchwood and Harold Saxon, like this was something important to notice, but she didn't know why.

"I haven't the faintest."

"May I?" Vastra held out a hand for the newspaper, taking it and quickly skimming the rest of it, "There appears to be nothing of significance in the rest of the newspaper, not even in the agony column."

"We can't know it's from the Doctor or not though," Jenny tried to be logical. For all they knew, it very well COULD be from the Doctor, "Maybe it's a future him? Leaving the past him a clue?"

Angel frowned at that, "It could be…"

"But?" Clara glanced at her.

"I just don't think it is," Angel shrugged, unable to give a better answer than that, "It doesn't feel like that. The last time something like this happened, a future version of someone leaving clues to get us to a spot, I felt it, it was like I knew it was there…this doesn't feel the same."

"But you said you can't see everything," Clara reminded her gently.

"True," Angel sighed, "But I can't shake the feeling this it isn't that."

"It says lunch, but not when or where?" Vastra read the article over again, an invitation for the Impossible Girl to meet for the meal on the other side.

"'On the other side?'" Jenny read the only other part of the article, "The other side of London? Bit vague."

"And why's it just to me?" Clara shook her head, before nodding to herself, "I think you're right, Angel, I don't think it's from the Doctor. If it was, he'd be making a message to you, not me."

"Unless he wanted to keep others that might decipher the message from knowing he wanted his Mate to go somewhere," Vastra reasoned.

Clara snorted at that, "WE can't even decipher the message, and it's addressed to us, how would anyone else?"

"The other side of regeneration, perhaps, once he's recovered?" Vastra got back to trying to figure it out.

"So what am I supposed to do, guess where we're meeting?"

"Perhaps that's the point," Vastra glanced at her, "Perhaps you're supposed to prove that you still know him. Think what that must mean for a man who barely knows himself."

"Well then that's even more of a reason to send it to Angel than me," Clara argued, "SHE would know him better than anyone and…"

"And that's just it," Angel blinked, "I do know him better than anyone else," she agreed, picking up the paper, "And he's so oblivious, he can't see what's right in front of him half the time," she held the paper up so it was right in front of her, "Right…in front of me…" her eyes widened, seeing something through the paper, and held it up to the light more, "And on the other side! The other side of the paper! Look!"

Clara and Vastra quickly joined her, seeing an ad for 'Mancini's Family Restaurant' on the other side of the 'Impossible Girl' ad.

Clara smirked and elbowed Vastra, "Told you."

~8~

Clara gasped as she and Angel appeared before the restaurant from the ad in a flash of gold, lucky that no one else was around to see them. The street seemed rather empty and deserted for the time of day, most would think crowds of people would be out and heading for lunch now.

"What do you think?" Clara asked as she and Angel slowly made their way to the doors, "Trap? No trap? Space portal? Snog box?"

Angel had to smile at that, "Not a snog-box, no. Trap…" she shrugged, "Quite likely. Space portal, a bit…I think…" she frowned as she stepped in, looking down at the floor, "The floor doesn't feel right," she murmured, "I think this…this might be a ship."

"A spaceship disguised as a restaurant?" Clara lifted an eyebrow at that.

"A spaceship disguised as a police telephone box?" Angel reminded her.

"Fair enough," Clara shrugged, pushing open another set of doors to enter the main sitting area of the restaurant. For how empty the streets were, the tables were unusually packed, just about every one filled with people all eating away quietly. A little too quietly, no one was speaking at all just tinkling their utensils and plates and cups as they went about their meals.

Clara looked at Angel who just made her way straight through the room to an empty table at the back, sliding into the booth beside the woman and looking out at the other diners. A moment later she blinked and, just like that, the rest of the booth was occupied by none other than the Doctor and Tailor, the Doctor in a long coat, hanging open just a bit to reveal he'd managed to find a shirt and pants while Tailor's red jacket from Christmas was buttoned closed.

"Doctor," Angel smiled at him.

The Doctor just grinned back, taking Angel's hand in his left, leaning in to lift it to his lips in a quick kiss that had Tailor good-naturedly rolling her eyes and giving Clara a small, exasperated shake of the head. It seemed to be another trait that had managed to survive the regeneration. But that particular one didn't surprise Tailor much, she knew how much that small act meant to her mother, she couldn't see any version of her father, no matter how grumpy or closed off he might be to others, forsaking that tiny action when he knew it would put a wide smile on his Mate's face. If there was one thing that always survived regeneration, it was the bond between Mates, the desire to see them happy and do all you could to be the cause of that happiness. Her father could be the most shrewd, rude, cruel man to anyone else come a future regeneration, but when it came to his Mate, it would never ever ever be the case. His residual guilt over the pain his last incarnation had caused her would likely ensure that for the rest of his lives.

"Sorry for popping off like that," the Doctor began.

"You mean wandering off," Angel pointed out after a moment of just looking at him with a slightly odd expression to her face. She glanced down at the Doctor's right hand, hidden in his pocket, a small frown on her face, before she looked back at him though she remained silent. She could tell there was something there he was hiding from her, she could feel a dull throb in her own right hand as it was held in his, but the Doctor clearly did not want to bring it up there or then, but she would be asking about it later.

"Not quite wandering, no…" he tried to defend himself, squeezing her hand in an effort to distract her from her notice of his hidden hand.

"Wandering," Tailor interrupted in confirmation, "Most definitely wandering. And in his night clothes too. And after you both telling me three times a day for centuries straight not to wander off…"

"Yes, yes," the Doctor huffed, "I wandered. But in my defense I DID just regenerate."

"Well that's not entirely fair, my love," Angel had a teasing tone to her voice, "When I regenerated all I did was change clothes, kiss you, get the earth home, and find our daughter, I didn't wander."

"I didn't either," Tailor mused, "I just hugged you both and ran into the TARDIS."

"Oh what is this, gang up on the Doctor day?" he grumbled.

"It can be," Clara nodded, joining in, "Cos, you know, we've all probably just wandered into a trap and you're sitting there more cross that you got caught wandering after telling us not to wander than trying to work out what's going on."

"Trap? What trap?" he frowned.

"The advert in the paper," Angel began.

"What about it?" he blinked, "We saw it," he looked between her and Clara, focusing on Clara, "I thought it might be a message from you. It did have that egomaniacal, needy, game-player sort of feel to it…"

"And you thought that was from ME?" Clara seemed offended now.

"Dad, that's rude," Tailor whispered to her, "We like Clara. Clara's great."

"Yes, great, and just happens to be an ego…" the Doctor was cut off by Angel placing the tips of her fingers to his lips.

"The message wasn't from Clara, my love," she told him, "Vastra thought it might be from you and Tailor, but you would have just contacted ME the same way I'd have contacted YOU if we wanted to meet you here."

The Doctor's brows started to furrow, piecing what Angel had said together as he thought on it. He hated regeneration, it always made him feel slow, like he wasn't fully aware of his perception yet, his mind was hazy and cluttered and confusing and he knew, now that the thought on it, he should have realized it sooner…he really should have, especially because, if this WAS a trap, he'd just walked his daughter into it without a thought.

"Oh," he blinked, "This is…not good."

"No," Angel agreed, seeing that he'd realized the note hadn't come from any of them as they had other ways to communicate than through a paper.

"But…if YOU didn't place the ad and WE didn't…" Tailor frowned, "Who did?"

"I suppose we'll find out eventually," Angel sighed.

"It's...it's a vanity trap," the Doctor looked around, instantly more cautious, sitting straighter as he tried to see if there were any hints in the room that would tell them who or what trap it was, "You're so busy congratulating yourself on solving the puzzle, you don't notice that you're sticking your head in a noose," he quickly pulled a strand of hair from his head and held it up, looking at it intently.

"What are you doing?" Clara leaned in to try and see what he was going on about, "And that isn't the only grey one, if you are, erm, having a cull."

"It's too short," the Doctor shook his head, dropping it and turning, only to see Angel holding up a strand of her own hair for him to use, one of the shorter pieces near the sides of her face but longer than his had been. He smiled at that, taking it from her and holding it dangling from his fingers.

Tailor frowned, trying to follow along, "Are you...trying to measure the air disturbance in the room, dad?"

He nodded, letting it drop, only to see it fall in a straight line right down, which made him look out at the diners more intently, "There is something extremely wrong with everybody else in this room."

"There is," Angel nodded, taking a deep breath now that she was really looking. She'd been so intent to get to the back table, knowing that would be the one the Doctor would pick, to see her Mate and daughter again and safe, that she hadn't really been paying attention to the diners. She'd been focusing on sensing the other Time Lords that she hadn't thought to look at the humans.

And now that she did, she could realize that they weren't humans at all.

"They're not eating," Tailor murmured quietly, frowning at the other diners. And they really weren't. They were lifting food and forks and spoons and glasses to their mouths but then jerking and putting it back down, repeating the same motions over and over.

"They aren't?" Clara squinted at that, noticing that now.

"Something else they're not doing," the Doctor murmured, reaching out for Angel's hand once more, "Breathing."

They were surrounded by robots.

Chapter Text

Clara stiffened at the Doctor's words, "What do we do?" she glanced at Angel, "Do we teleport out?"

"We could," Angel nodded, "I should be able to get the four of us to the street…"

Just as she said that the diners paused in their eating and all, as one, turned to face the quartet, staring them down.

"Robots," the Doctor murmured under his breath, "In Victorian London? Why?"

Angel frowned, "You don't think the Cybermen are back, do you?" she glanced at the Doctor.

His lips pursed, recalling that adventure with Jackson Lake, "If they are…we can't leave," he reasoned, reaching out to pick up the menu, the gesture seeming to signal for the other robots to go back to their business, mechanically sitting down and resuming their 'eating.'

"Why is there a restaurant full of robots?" Tailor whispered to them as she followed her father's lead and picked up a menu, "They can't eat, what need is there for a restaurant?"

"Robots don't have fun either," Angel remarked gently, "What need did they have for an amusement park?"

Clara blinked at that, stiffening as she looked at Angel, thinking of Artie and Angie, "You don't think they're…" she looked at the robots, turning a bit green as she thought of how the Cybers had used the tourists for parts.

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted, keeping his gaze trained on the other diners over his menu, "The question, I think, isn't why they need a restaurant, but WHAT the restaurant is."

"It's a ship," Angel mumbled from behind her menu, so quiet that only the three of them could hear, "I could feel it when we stepped in, the floor was wrong, it's not a restaurant, it's a ship."

"But what kind of ship?" Tailor tried to look around, "I don't recognize the architecture," well, not that she really would. She was familiar more with TARDIS architecture than that of other ships, and she hadn't exactly had access to her learning materials hidden in the TARDIS the times she'd been on Christmas and Earth.

"Nor would you," the Doctor reassured her, "They've disguised the upper portion to blend in," he cut off quickly when Angel put her hand on his knee moments before what appeared to be a waiter half-marched over to them, "Er...no sausages?" he floundered, "Do you...and there's no pictures either. Do you have a children's menu?" he nearly went cross-eyed as the 'waiter' pulled out a wand-like device and scanned him with it, "Any specials?"

"Liver," the waiter stated.

"I don't like liver."

"Spleen. Brain stem. Eyes."

"Mmm," Clara grimaced, "Is there a lot of demand for those?"

"I don't think that's the menu, Aunt Clara," Tailor murmured, "I think they think Dad's the menu."

Clara gasped as the waiter turned on her with the wand, scanning her too, "Lungs. Skin."

"Excuse me," the Doctor stood suddenly when the waiter began to point the wand at Angel and didn't hesitate to grab the man's face, feeling 95 percent sure that the man was a robot wearing fake skin, revealing he was, in fact, a robot wearing fake skin as he tore half the face off, a pilot light burning behind it.

"Ok," Clara stood quickly, reaching out to tug Tailor behind her, the Doctor and Angel moving to stand before them, "Robot in a mask."

"It's a face," the Doctor looked down at the skin in his hands.

"Yeah, it's very convincing."

"No," the Doctor held the mask up to the level of Clara's face, not taking his eyes off the robot now, "It's a face."

"A real face, Aunt Clara," Tailor whispered to her, turning a bit green at the thought.

Angel frowned at the robot, thinking of another time where there had been a face involved, though it had been donated for the most part.

"You're SURE River's not here?" the Doctor murmured beside her, clearly thinking of the same adventure in the Library.

"I am," she nodded lightly.

She was quite certain that even River had enough sense NOT to be around the Doctor after he'd just regenerated. There was really no telling what he would do or say to someone he disliked while his mind was all scrambled, let alone what he'd do to someone he professed to hate with a passion. She doubted very much that River would want to witness that from him as well, to have him react without thinking and show his true feelings for the woman, as long as he was being somewhat polite and non-homicidal, she was sure River (especially earlier in her timeline) would find some way to think that it was his unconscious desire to be with her instead of his Mate, as misguided as that would be for the woman. The Doctor like this would be too raw for even River to convince herself he was being out of sorts and dishonest.

Though, looking at her Mate now, looking at his face, his expression, the way he held himself, she couldn't help but feel like…it wouldn't help River at all if she appeared even years after the regeneration had settled. She couldn't help but think that this new Doctor would be just as brutally honest when it came to River, perhaps quite a good deal less kind and understanding and polite as he had been in his last body, and considering that after he'd remembered their Mating he hadn't been all that kind or polite at all then, that was saying something.

"Yes," the waiter suddenly spoke, distracting them.

"Yes, what?" the Doctor stiffened at that, not sure what was going to come next.

"Yes, we have a children's menu."

Angel let out a breath at that, horrified at the realization that the robot was actually stating that they had killed children too. Clara seemed to grasp that as well, pulling Tailor behind her even more. So what if the girl was older than all her echo-lives combined, Tailor was still the little girl from yesterday to her, she would always be her niece and need to be protected.

The Doctor, however, had quite a different reaction to that knowledge. Not only was he furious at the thought of doing that to a child, but his paternal instincts were skyrocketing, because HIS child was right behind them, and these robots would kill her without a second thought. That was NOT something he would see happen and, before he even realized he'd done it, he whipped out his sonic and flashed it at the robot, causing it to stagger back, sparks shooting out of it from the attack.

Unfortunately, it also had the effect of causing the other robots to quickly rise from their seats just as the room began to shake around them, well, not quite the room but the portion they were standing in. Their booth began to lower into the floor of the restaurant, revealing it had been a lift of some sort, taking the four of them down a shaft and into darkness.

Angel looked at the Doctor a moment, silently asking him with her eyes if she should use the Vortex and teleport them out of there, but he gave a small shake of the head. She would reveal quite the advantage if she did that and it was best to keep that to the very end, on top of that…what was below might tell them how to stop the robots as well. She gave a little nod at that, understanding, and glanced at Clara and Tailor, seeing they were both alright even as they were taken lower.

A soft orange light began to shine on them, rising up as the booth sunk lower, till they came to the entrance to the shaft, a large room that appeared quite unused by the dust and cobwebs everywhere. There were nooks in the circular wall around them, in which various men and women stood immobile, their arms out, their eyes closed. In the middle of the room was a single chair with a man sitting on it, the same man that had been observing the dinosaur earlier they realized.

The Doctor glanced at Angel, Clara, and Tailor before slowly stepping off the lift and into the room, the three following him as Angel made her way to his side.

"So this is like with the Cybers, yeah?" Clara glanced at them, "Trying to use people for spare parts?"

"It appears so," the Doctor nodded, keeping his voice low. It seemed as though the other robots in the room were in stasis, he didn't want to risk waking them just yet.

"They ARE all dormant, aren't they?" Tailor tried to eye one standing in an alcove while her parents focused on the one in the chair, waving her hand in front of its face.

"For now," Angel agreed.

"Captain, my Captain," the Doctor observed the sitting man, "Recharging," he mused, noticing a wire connected to the chair, "Best not touch him," he murmured to Angel, "Don't want him super charged."

Angel gave him a faint smile for that, "I don't think my touch does that, my love, just the Vortex."

"Hmm?" he glanced at her, "I'd beg to differ."

Angel couldn't help the small blush that crept onto her face at his words, it was nice to know, very nice actually, that he still cared for her and loved her. She would be lying if she said she wasn't afraid that this would be the reverse of his last regeneration, that he would remember her until the regeneration settled in and then forget her.

'Never again,' she heard the Doctor speak in her mind as he reached out and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, 'I will never, ever forget you again, Nella.'

"It doesn't look like a Cyberman," Clara remarked, pulling their attention back to the present, "It looks more human, like a cyborg yeah? Half-man, half-robot?"

"I don't think it's that," Tailor murmured, moving over to stand between Clara and her father, "They're…they're not humans turning robot. That's what a cyborg is, human with cyber parts. This is…" she shook her head, like she was trying to find the words, "It's like Pinocchio," she remarked, "It's a robot trying to be human."

The Doctor eyed her a moment, hearing something very familiar in her words, in her tone, before his eyes widened and he looked sharply at Angel who was smiling softly at him, giving a small nod that what Tailor had just said? It had been a 'feeling' much like the ones she had started to have when travelling with him. Their daughter was already getting feelings about things.

"Exactly," Angel nodded.

"Yes," the Doctor glanced closer to the man, "The hands," he pointed out, "They don't match. These hands don't belong to the same body."

"How long has it BEEN here though?" Tailor shook her head, not quite getting that sense, and focusing on the ship around them, "I mean, that metalwork, that looks Roman, yeah?" she glanced at her father who nodded at her assessment, "Has it been around longer than that?" she almost seemed to blanch at the thought that it could have been harvesting people for centuries more than what it appeared.

"I think so," Angel said quietly, "It feels old, very old," she frowned as she stared the half-man down, "Why is it here? Why is it STILL here?" she asked more to herself than for an answer, "Why has it kept running? The clockwork men with Reinette, they were repairing the ship, they had a purpose to keep going. What's this ones?"

Before the Doctor could even ponder that, ponder the reality that this was indeed more like the adventure with Reinette than Webley, the half-faced man jerked his arms, making them jump back, even Angel.

"Is it awake?" Clara breathed as the robot began to move, putting its hands on the arms of the chair as though to push itself up, the gears within its face starting to buzz.

"Yes," Tailor swallowed hard, reaching out to grip her father's arm for comfort, not sure what was coming next. It was frustrating, she felt like she almost got a feel of something, like one of the senses her mother used to tell her about, but then it would just fade away too quickly to grasp.

"We should go, yeah?" Clara looked at them.

Angel glanced behind them at an open door in the wall, then to Clara, and the Doctor, shaking her head, unable to help but feel like trying to leave now would cause a great deal of upset for Clara for some reason, "No," she said, surprising them, "No, there aren't any answers out there," she glanced back at the half-faced man a moment, "If it gets too dangers, I'll get us out," she told them as quietly as she could, "Till then…we need to stop them hurting any more people."

"Agreed," the Doctor nodded, squeezing Angel's hand that he was still holding, bending his other arm to pat Tailor's hand on his upper arm in comfort, "We're safe," he looked over at his daughter and…sister, yes, that was who Clara was, like a sister to him, to his last self, to THIS self as well he should think, "Both of you are safe, we won't let anything happen to you."

Tailor gave him a smile for that, "I know, dad."

The small group of four waited in silence for the half-faced man to start to function fully, watching is it twisted its head to look at them, taking them in, before it stood, taking a jerking step towards them. The Doctor held the sonic up in warning, stopping the half-faced man taking another step.

"Why did you attack Charlotte?" Angel asked after a moment of silence, it was as good a place to start as any. But the half-faced man just tilted his head in question, "Er, the dinosaur," she corrected, "Why did you attack the dinosaur?"

"Within the optic nerve of the dinosaur is material of use to our computer systems," the half-faced man stated.

"What?" the Doctor scoffed at that, "What's in a dinosaur's optic nerve that you could possibly want?"

"Hold on," Tailor frowned, noticing something, "You know ABOUT a dinosaur's optic nerve, so you…you've seen dinosaurs before?" she wasn't sure if she was more disgusted by the fact that it meant that they had been around and killing things since dinosaurs, or that they had killed dinosaurs too.

"How long have you been rebuilding yourselves?" Clara shook her head at them, "Look at the state of you! Is there any real you left? What's the point?"

"We will reach the Promised Land," the half-faced man stated.

"The…Promised Land?" Angel repeated, frowning…

...a hallway was dimly lit, skeletons sitting in tanks of water that lined the walls...

'...the Promised Land. Paradise. Welcome to Heaven...'

...a woman with dark hair and bright eyes, dressed in Victorian garb, smirked and gave a wink...

"And what's that?" the Doctor glanced at Angel and back at the robot, having caught a glimpse of her vision in his mind.

The half-faced man didn't respond though, merely tilted its head as though a function or thought had finally caught up to it, "Why are you here?"

The Doctor eyed it warily, "Didn't you invite us? The message, in the paper...that was you, wasn't it?"

"I don't think it was them, my love," Angel whispered to him.

"Ooh, I hate being wrong in public," he grumbled, he'd rather hoped it was the robots at work, that would have been one less mystery to have to solve, one less worry to concern himself with.

"Why?" Tailor glanced at him, "It happens so much I thought you'd be used to it by now."

"Oi!" the Doctor threw her a mock-chastising look, which she just gave a cheeky grin to.

"Better time, Doctor," Angel whispered to him, reaching out behind her to search out Clara's hand a moment before the other robots in the room began to activate, jerkily stepping out of their alcoves and lifting their hands in attack.

Just as a series of blasts filled the room, fired from the robots, a golden light flashed, the small quartet disappearing within it and reappearing on the upper level of the restaurant…right in front of a startled Jenny, Vastra, and Strax, though Strax appeared more pouting than startled.

"You were supposed to use the codeword, human scum!" Strax shouted, aiming his weapon, for they were all armed, at Clara.

"Not now, Strax," Jenny huffed, though she sheathed her sword back in its place, a little saddened that they had missed a battle too.

"Yes," Vastra managed to offer a smile, "We are just relieved you are alive and well," she tried to reassure the four, but she sounded just as cross to have missed a fight.

Angel smiled, "I'm sure you are," she teased, "How have things been up here?" she glanced around the room to see quite a few of the robots had been dismantled.

"The establishment has been disabled with maximum prejudice," Vastra informed them, "And the authorities summoned."

"Hang on," Clara blinked at that, "She called the police? We never do that, we should start!"

"Well, chances are, if we tried, Aunt Idris would just redirect the calls right to the TARDIS," Tailor reasoned, "She IS technically a police telephone box…"

The rest of her words were cut off by the sound of a mechanical whirring behind them, the group looking back to see the noise had come from the shaft, the booth was starting to rise again, and they knew what that meant. Either the half-faced man was coming, or he and his army were about to rise.

"Vastra, Jenny, Strax," the Doctor called when the tip of a robot was visible coming up with the booth, just ONE robot, the very same moment the ship started to shake, as though explosions were going off below.

"Leave it to us," Vastra nodded, rushing off with Strax and Jenny to find a way downstairs, knowing that the explosions could only be caused by the robots themselves, they had to be doing something to the ship and needed to be stopped.

The Doctor stumbled, nearly falling as Clara and Tailor did fall, catching Angel as she almost tumbled to the side as well, the explosions shaking the building.

"What are they doing?!" Clara gasped, scrambling to her feet as the booth stopped, revealing the half-faced man standing before them.

"Destroying where necessary," the robot stated, not seeming to realize it was giving away its secrets, "So I may leave in the capsule."

Angel frowned at that, that meant the robot before them was the only one left with conscious thought, the others had to have shorted out by now, becoming just robots, without a purpose. That was quite heartsbreaking to think about, to have gone so long that nothing was left, that your mind and will was so depleted you just...followed orders.

"The ship is ancient, it won't fly," Tailor shook her head, getting up too, "You won't be able to go anywhere."

"I will make it to the Promised Land."

"You're millions of years old, it's time you knew, there isn't one," the Doctor told him.

"Right, here we are!" the small group spun around, seeing a police inspector rushing in with a handful of men, "This is the place, come with me!" but the men stopped quite suddenly when they noticed the robots lying on the floor, and the half-faced man standing before a group of four others, "Dear Lord, what has she landed us with this time?"

"The restaurant is closed," the half-faced man stated, the shock of it sending the police rushing out once more.

"And that, Clara, is why we don't call the police," the Doctor grumbled, rolling his eyes at the cowardice of humans, running away because of one robot, he could already hear the man shouting at others outside to keep everyone out and let no one in.

"Oi!" Clara suddenly shouted, "Stop it!"

They looked back to see that, while the police had distracted them, the half-faced man had walked over to a control panel in the side wall, pressing buttons before he pulled a lever that caused all of them to fall to the floor, the building shaking around them…and starting to rise into the air.

~8~

The police gasped and jumped back, watching in awe as the roof of the restaurant opened up to the sky.

"Watch out!" the inspector called, though his words died off as the top part of the building itself began to rise into the air by a large balloon, "Dear lord…" he shook himself, "Get to the station! We need more men!"

"What shall I tell them is happening?" a constable questioned.

"Go!" he shoved the man on.

~8~

"51st century, right?" the Doctor called as he quickly helped Angel up, checking on Tailor and Clara to see they were already getting to their feet, before he focused on the robot, "Time travelling spaceship, crashed in the past. You're trying to get home the long way round."

The half-faced man seemed to jerk his head back and forth in a shake, "I go to the Promised Land."

"So you keep saying," he muttered.

Angel took a soft breath at the mention of it, every time someone said that it just made her shiver, it was like there was something wrong with that, that there was something sinister about the Promised Land that she just couldn't shake.

"Well," Tailor murmured even as the robot pulled another lever, "At least this wasn't a surprise," she glanced out the window, "We already knew the restaurant was a spaceship…"

"I'm not sure I want to know how they're getting it to fly," Clara mumbled, "I mean, repair it with spare parts, ok, but how is it actually flying? What's making it go?"

"Skin," the half-faced man stated, startling them as they hadn't thought he could hear Clara from the other side of the room nor did they think he'd be so forthcoming with actual answers.

"Oh that's disgusting," Clara turned green at the thought.

"I agree," Tailor grimaced.

~8~

Vastra and Jenny could barely contain their grins as they faced off in a fight against the robots below in the base of the restaurant, swinging their swords with grace and ease, cutting down mechanical man after mechanical woman, trying to keep them from destroying the rest of the area with them in it.

"How many do you estimate, my dear?" Vastra called to Jenny.

"More than upstairs, about 20, 30?" Jenny shouted back.

"The ones upstairs were mere decoys. These are battle-ready. I anticipate a challenge."

"Don't worry," Strax grit his teeth in pleasure, firing his blaster, "We shall die in glory!"

But try as they might, the robots were far more advanced than they had originally thought. Where the ones in the restaurant had been easily dealt with, a mere chop of the head disabling them, these robots were truly fighters. They just kept getting up no matter how many times they were cut down and the limbs that were severed continued to move, making it all the more difficult to attack when even pieces were still able to fight.

"Why can't you stay dead, coward!" Strax grunted, firing at another robot, laughing insanely moments later as he rushed into the heat of them.

~8~

The Doctor eyed the half-faced man warily as it merely turned away from the control panel to face them. He glanced out the window, at the soaring skies beyond, and back, "What do you think of the view?"

"I do not think of it," the half-faced man stated.

The Doctor sighed in exasperation, "I don't think of it. I don't. Droids and apostrophes, I could write a book!"

"But it's not quite true anymore," Angel reasoned cautiously, taking a step past the Doctor and towards the half-faced man, the Doctor stiffening as she moved, his gaze now firmly placed on her instead of the enemy the closer she got to it, just waiting for a single threat to her for him to attack, "Is it?" she eyed the half-faced man, "You're not a robot anymore, you've got human parts," her gaze drifted to its eyes, "Human eyes," she said sadly, "And if you're more human than robot, what does the human in you think of the view?"

The Doctor nearly smiled at that, Tailor truly smiling, at how Angel was trying to reach out to the humanity in the droid, to make it reconsider what it was doing and how it had done what it had up to now.

The half-faced man jerked his head towards her a moment before twisting it to face the window, stiffly walking past her, past them all, and to a very large opening in the windows, where a door to the restaurant had been. It was silent a moment before it spoke, "It is beautiful."

"It is," Angel smiled, moving to join the robot in the doorway, resting a calming hand on the Doctor's arm as she passed, though he reached out to snatch her hand, squeezing it in warning to be careful, before he let go, let her take the lead on this. His mind was still in half-chaos, and he felt like he was on the cusp of wanting to just kill the robot to end this adventure so he could have some rest…that wasn't something he wanted to do with his daughter right there, that wasn't the example he wanted to set. It was best, in this case, to let the woman of peace handle this, "You know what's even more beautiful?" she made it to stand just across from the robot, "Being DOWN there," she smiled, looking down at the busy streets below, "It's so full of life, so busy, with so many people and so much going on, it's wonderful."

"You will not stop me," the half-faced man stated, its head snapping back to look at her, "You cannot stop me."

"I could," she told him sadly, "I really could," she tilted her head, observing him, "And I think there's enough humanity in you that you…you want it to stop too," she eyed him closely, feeling it in her soul, the bone-weary tiredness, the exhaustion, the desolation radiating off what was left of the half-faced man before her, "But at the same time, you can't let it stop. Because if YOU stop, the others stop too. And you care about them."

"I will reach the Promised Land," it repeated.

"There isn't any Promised Land," the Doctor huffed, stepping closer, though taking care to move himself between the droid and his daughter and Clara, "This is just...it's a superstition that you have picked up from all the humanity you've stuffed inside yourself."

"I am not human."

"You're not," the Doctor agreed, for all 'the humanity stuffed in him,' at its core the half-faced man was still a robot, "You are a broom. Question, you take a broom, you replace the handle, and then later you replace the brush and you do that over and over again. Is it still the same broom?" he glanced back, "What do you think, sweetheart?"

Tailor blinked at that, "If you replace the inside, then no, it's not."

It was different for regeneration, their outsides changed, yeah, but not their insides, not their hearts and souls and memories. If you took a broom and replaced its inside, everything that made it a broom, the brush AND the handle…then no, it wasn't the same broom, it couldn't be, there was nothing of the original there.

"But you can still sweep the floor," the Doctor nodded, "Which is not strictly relevant, skip that last part," he focused on the half-faced man again, "You have replaced every piece of yourself, mechanical and organic, time and time again, there's not a trace of the original you left," he looked over and spotted a silver serving tray, picking it up to hold it before the half-faced man to see his reflection, "You probably can't even remember where you got that face from."

The half-faced man reached out to take the tray, staring into it as the Doctor and Angel looked at each other over his shoulder, Angel spotting something familiar in his eyes as the Doctor glanced back at the robot, absently reaching up to wipe his eyebrow in thought, almost like he wasn't sure where his own face came from.

"It cannot end!" the half-faced man suddenly shouted, tossing the tray aside.

Angel gave him a sad, empathetic look, "Everything, all things, must die," she murmured an age old lesson, reaching out to put a hand on the robot's shoulder, "You're the one powering the others," Angel added, a sensation that Vastra and Jenny were not faring well against the other robots creeping into her.

The half-faced man looked at her, "Self-destruction is against my basic program."

Angel nodded, understanding, "Nor is destruction in mine," she looked him in the eye, "...I can make it painless," she whispered, because the very last thing she wanted to do was cause anyone, or anything, pain.

The half-faced man looked at her hand on his shoulder.

~8~

Vastra gasped as her sword was knocked out of her reach, still valiantly trying to reach Jenny where she was surrounded by robots, "Jenny! No!" she shoved a robot away as Jenny was knocked back with a jab to the stomach.

She managed to push her way through, getting to Jenny's side and shielding her from a blow that was coming…

When suddenly the robots stiffened, moments before they fell to the ground, immobile.

~8~

"Thank you," the half-faced man whispered as waves of gold drifted over him, the energy of the Vortex making it painless, just as Angel had promised, for him while power of it shorted him out, causing him to stiffen as had the others and fall to the ground, though Angel caught him and gently rested him, even going so far as to close his eyes for him.

"Mum," Tailor breathed as she watched her mother, watched the woman showing a robot such kindness even after it had been the brains behind harming so many.

"I told you, sweetheart," the Doctor murmured, a small smile on his face, "An angel incarnate."

"Oh hush," Angel waved it off, though there was a faint blush on his cheeks.

"No but really," Clara argued, "That was really…compassionate," she glanced at the Doctor, "For a second I thought you were gonna just push him out the window."

"The thought HAD crossed my mind," he admitted, not entirely sure how he should feel about that, to know that he really would have pushed the robot out of the window to land somewhere in London, likely dead…when his Mate had come up with a less agonized way to accomplish the same means.

He felt like he should be more shocked at his thoughts, he should be more disgusted in himself…but he just couldn't muster it. This new him...it was different than the last, it felt different about things. The robot was a threat to the humans, and there was no end that he wouldn't go to to save them, especially when a good deal of them were important to his Mate, his daughter, and himself. He should feel horrified that he'd do it and not feel a scrap of guilt for it, but he just…didn't.

What sort of man did that make him?

He glanced over at Angel, breathing a small breath of relief that she hadn't seemed to have caught that stray thought.

~8~

Clara couldn't help but stare in awe at the TARDIS console room as the four of them stepped inside the box which had suddenly appeared in the restaurant just after the half-faced man had been shut down. The Doctor had been trying to work out how to dismantle the spaceship with the least amount of fuss…and decided, upon seeing the TARDIS appear, that sending it crashing into an open field to be destroyed would be the best way to go about it. Say whatever you like about his new personality, he still seemed to love explosions.

The Doctor had been setting the ship to crash as Angel went to open the TARDIS doors for them, explaining that the box had returned now that she'd finished repairing herself, she'd homed in on the pilots. Clara hadn't quite realized that, in repairing herself, the box would also change. It looked a bit less mechanical than before, a little more homey. There was a staircase to the side with a rather comfy looking armchair sitting there, another stair in the middle that led up to a row of bookshelves filled with books. Off to the side was a workbench and the console itself looked a little more chaotic than precise like the last one.

It had a more mature feel to it, which was fitting given the Doctor's new mature look…and perhaps even a more mature personality. She could already tell, just from how he spoke and held himself that he was less energetic puppy that was always making light and getting excited and more serious and maybe responsible.

"You've redecorated," she called to the box as they entered, "I don't like it."

They all laughed as the TARDIS gave an irritated groan at that, Clara rolling her eyes as she plopped down on the armchair to test it.

"She's joking, Aunt Idris," Tailor smiled, making her way to the console, "And even if she's not, I love it."

"As do I," Angel agreed, joining her daughter, placing a gentle hand over her shoulder as they looked up at her sister.

"Hmm," the Doctor eyed the box as he too entered, Angel hitting a control or two to pilot them out of the plummeting ship as he closed the door, "Not completely entirely convinced myself. I think there should be more round things on the walls. I used to have lots of round things. I wonder where I put them."

"Archived," Angel answered, "And Sissy tries not to repeat herself," she let go of Tailor and turned to face the Doctor as he made his way up to them, "How are you, my love?" she reached out to take his hands, "Feeling a bit better? More settled?"

She could feel he was fine, she knew he was, but...she needed to hear it. Nearly one thousand years of watching his final body aging, not being able to sense if he'd be alright in the end for most of it, it had done a number to her. She couldn't help but be concerned about him, she just...she wanted to make sure this was real. She needed to know this wasn't just her imagination or a dream, that he was really there, he was really fine and alive and well and with her, fully with her, memories and all. She just needed him to say it.

He nodded, as though sensing that, "I'm the Doctor," he recited, now able to remember things much more clearly as his regeneration cycle was over, "Mate of the Angel, father of the Tailor, brother of Clara Oswald," he added, knowing that those were the three pieces of information the three women in the box were holding their breath to hear him say, reassuring them, "I've lived for over 2,000 years and not all of them were good, though the more recent ones were extraordinary," he gave her a small smile at that, "I've made many mistakes, and it's about time that I did something about that. But first," he stepped back though refused to let go of her hands, "What do you think?"

"About?" Angel blinked, having a fairly good idea about what, but wanting to be sure.

"Me," he took a breath, now it was HIS turn to hold it.

"You are my Mate," she shook her head lightly, "And I love you, in this body, the last, the next, all of them. All of you," she squeezed his hands.

"And the face?" he asked, releasing the breath.

"I am surprised you ended up with that one, but not overly."

He blinked, "So you DO recognize it then?"

She gave a light laugh, "You have Caecillius's face, my love, from Pompeii?" she reminded him, seeing his eyes widen as he realized he DID have the man's face, "As well as John Frobisher, when the Hydrians came to Earth."

He nodded, "I do, don't I?" he murmured, "But why isn't it overly surprising?"

"They were both fathers, husbands," Angel shrugged, not entirely sure if that was why he had them but feeling a though it may be part of it, "Both men would do anything, stand up to anyone, for love of their family. I think it's quite fitting that your face reflects that. I think…I think that's a clue to the sort of man this you will be," she added, knowing he always was concerned after he regenerated as to what sort of man he was.

The Doctor considered that, he felt like there was a little more to it than just that. He wanted to be better, a better father and Mate for his girls, that was his last conscious thought before he changed, that he wanted to be better than the failure that the last him had been. New regeneration cycle, new beginning, he wanted it to be better in general. He wanted to prove himself to his girls, make up for how the last him let them down. It seemed his subconscious had taken that to heart, given him a face of a man that had been willing to die with his family, that had been willing to stand up to the entire government to protect them. That was the sort of man he wanted to be, now he could only hope he would live up to that.

"I look forward to seeing what sort of man that is then," he finally said.

"Can we hug now?" Tailor cut in, nearly making her parents jump at how they had almost forgotten they weren't alone, "Please, I need a really big family hug after all that."

The Doctor chuckled but held open his arms to his daughter, hugging and Angel close…

"Oi, Clara," Angel held out her arm too, "Come on!"

"What?" Clara blinked.

"I said FAMILY, Aunt Clara," Tailor repeated with a laugh, opening her arms to Clara too, the woman not needing to be told again before rushing over to them and joining in, the TARDIS humming happily in reply.

Clara couldn't help but smile even when she pulled away a few minutes later, but it faded quickly when a thought struck her, "There's just one thing I don't understand…" she looked at them, "If it wasn't the half-faced man, then who put that advert in the paper?"

"Who gave you my number?" the Doctor shrugged in answer, "A long time ago, remember? You were given the number of a computer helpline, and you ended up phoning the TARDIS. Who gave you that number?"

"The woman," Clara shook her head, "The woman in the shop."

"Then there's a woman out there who's very keen that we stay together."

Angel frowned at the tone in his voice, how it had tensed, grown just a little cold, "I don't think it's River," Angel told him, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. It did make sense that he would assume it was that woman in particular, she was a woman, she did have the phone number to the TARDIS (which wasn't something they could change given all the people through time and space that might need to use it for an emergency), and she did have a penchant for interfering in their lives…but when she thought on it, she just didn't sense River in it.

"Who else could it be?" the Doctor rationalized.

"It could be someone we haven't met yet?" Tailor offered, trying to help.

"It could be," the Doctor could admit, letting out a long sigh, "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, I suppose."

"Speaking of phones though," Angel moved over to the console, picking up the main phone the moment it rang, not even bothering to ask who it was before she turned, holding it out to Clara, "It's for you."

Clara blinked, "What?"

"The call," Angel held the phone up more, "It's for you, Clara."

"How do you…" she shook her head, "Psychic, right…"

"Not quite," Angel smiled, wiggling the phone till Clara took it.

"Hello?" Clara called hesitantly, glancing at the Time Lords as they moved to stand together on the other side of the console, watching, "Hello?"

"Clara?"

Her heart stopped as she heard the Doctor's voice, the LAST Doctor's voice, "Doctor?"

"Yes, yes, hello," the old Doctor chuckled, "I'm phoning you from Trenzalore, from before I changed. I mean it's all still to happen for me, it's coming. Oh, it's a-coming...not long now. I can...feel it."

"Then why are you wasting time talking to me?" Clara shook her head, "Go find Angel, be with her and Tailor!"

"I am," the Doctor answered and Clara looked at the women to see them smiling lightly at her, so that was how Angel knew the call was for her, "But I'm not with you and I'm sorry for that. I just wanted to be able to say goodbye properly. I didn't get a chance to before and…it's coming fast Clara."

"You don't have to say it," Clara tried to reassure him, "You haven't exactly left me, you're still here…you're standing right in front of me as we speak."

The Doctor, the new one, smiled at that, relieved that she didn't seem to hold onto the difference between himself and his last one, that she still saw the Doctor. It had taken Rose quite a while to reach that point, but Clara was taking it in stride. Probably it was an effect of being a Time Lady in one of her lives or seeing all his past selves, but whatever it was, he was glad for it.

"Good," she could practically hear the nod in his voice, "I'm glad…please tell me I didn't get old though, anything but old! I was young. Oh..." he groaned, making Clara laugh at his childishness, "Is he grey?"

"Yes," Clara smirked, "But Angel seems to love it."

"Good," this time he sighed as he spoke, he really did sound relieved at that, "Clara?"

"Yeah?"

"Goodbye," the last Doctor spoke, "I'll miss you."

Clara nodded, "I'll miss you too," she told him, knowing that the Time Lords wouldn't take it the wrong way, she would miss his last self as a separate person from the one he was now. She took a breath, "Goodbye."

She waited till she heard a small click to end the call before she set the phone down, looking at the Time Lords, "Thank you," she gave them a watery smile, wiping beneath one of her eyes quickly.

"For what?" the Doctor shook his head.

"Phoning?" Clara shrugged, "Giving me a proper goodbye? I know not many companions are able to get that, it means a lot to me," she stepped up and gave him a hug…

But he stiffened, holding his hands up so as not to touch her.

"What is it?" Clara frowned, pulling back.

"I...er, this is strange," he muttered, "I don't actually think that I'm a hugging person now."

"But we literally JUST hugged like five minutes ago!"

"I was hugging my Mate and daughter," the Doctor corrected, "You were hugging them. It was a hug by association."

"That is just ridiculous," Clara deadpanned.

"I can't help it," he defended with a grumble, "Regeneration, it's a lottery. And, frankly, as long as I don't mind hugging them, I really don't care if I never hug anyone else again."

"I don't think you get a say in hugs, Doctor," Clara sounded more amused than irritated now.

"Definitely not," Tailor agreed.

"Would it sound terribly selfish if I said I'm actually a little happy that he just wants to hug Tailor and I?" Angel asked hesitantly.

Clara gave her a soft smile for that, "After everything you two have been through?" she shook her head, "Not at all."

In that context, from Angel's point of view, she would have been relieved and very happy that her Mate only wanted to hug her and their daughter too. After what she knew the Silence and that River woman had tried to pull, she wouldn't have wanted any women near him. But Angel was too kind a soul to have forbid the last Doctor hugging anyone else…except perhaps just River.

"Now that that's taken care of," Tailor started to grin, "Shall we see where we landed?" she'd heard the box thump in landing moments ago, having already deposited Charlotte back with her family, but didn't quite know where they'd gone now that they'd left that era, it seemed like it had been set for random again and she was very excited to be somewhere else besides Christmas or another Victorian-esque place.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Angel gave her a small laugh, "We're in Glasgow."

Tailor blinked, "On Earth?" she sighed, sounding quite a bit like a typical annoyed teenager.

"Don't sound too happy," Clara rolled her eyes at the disappointed tone the girl had taken.

"Sorry, Aunt Clara, there's nothing wrong with the Earth. I love the Earth, but I've been on a planet like Victorian-Earth for centuries, and then literally back in Victorian Earth, I just want to see a bit more of the universe now."

"How about this," Angel cut in, "Why don't we change," she gestured at their clothing, still Victorian in style, "And then we can get some coffee," she looked more at Clara for that, knowing the human must be starting to feel the energy she'd spent, "And then we'll go on an adventure, yeah?"

"Sounds good to me!" Tailor beamed, "Come on, Aunt Clara," she took Clara's hand, "The wardrobe's this way! Ooh! And then I have to find MK9! He got trapped in the TARDIS when we landed and..."

Angel watched her daughter go a bit sadly as Tailor's voice faded away down the halls. When Tailor had been a child she had really loved dressing up for the period trips, but after being stuck in Christmas for centuries on end and wearing nothing but period clothing, she seemed to have out grown that in how eager she was to be rid of her outfit.

"Children grow," the Doctor sighed, wrapping his arms around her from behind, "It's the saddest fact of life."

"I know," Angel nodded against him, the two falling into silence for a moment before she turned in his arms, stepping back, trailing her hands down his arms till she could take his, particularly his right one, and held it up, "Care to explain this, my love?" she raised an eyebrow at the makeshift bandage wrapped around his hand.

"I..." he blinked, "You noticed..."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" she shook her head, moving to unwrap his hand and look at the damage, frowning deeply at the already scarred skin of his knuckles, "Why would you do that to yourself?"

"I regenerated last time," he began after a moment, watching her gently tracing the scars, the faintest of golden light drifting out of her, trying to heal him but they'd already healed, they wouldn't disappear now, "And these were gone," he squeezed her hand, making the scars stand out more, "They were gone and so were you, so was your place in my memory, in my hearts," he struggled to find the words, feeling like this new him...he wasn't quite comfortable speaking like this, about his feelings, but this was Angel, and given the hell he'd put her through last time, the least she deserved was for him to be open with HER, "I needed these back," he added, "I needed to see them and to know that I remembered."

"You had this," she reached up her free hand, placing it on his chest, over where she knew the necklace she'd given him, the angel pendant, was hanging just under his clothing, "To remind you."

"I did," he nodded, "But I can see this whenever I wanted," he lifted his hand slightly, thinking momentarily of the Corsair, "I don't feel like me, I don't feel like the Mate of the Angel, without these scars. And I WILL make sure they stay there, they appear, in every incarnation to come," he promised, "I will not be without them, without you."

Angel sighed at that, hearing the promise in his words, knowing this, like his feelings regarding River, were one of the few things she wouldn't be able to change his mind on, "I hate that you feel the need to hurt yourself for it."

"I would take a thousand million hurts if it means I keep you."

She couldn't help but smile at that, "You'll always have me, Theta, scars or no."

"Maybe," he agreed, "But I need this."

She let out a gentle breath, "At least let me heal them when you make them next time," she looked up at him, lifting his hand to press a soft kiss to the scars, as she had done to every incarnation of him past that had the same, "I won't make the scars fade if that's what you really want, but it'll lessen the pain," she really hated to think of him wandering around for hours with his hand throbbing.

He nodded at that, "I can do that."

She smiled at him, looking into his eyes, his new eyes, and just took him in, considering him, everything that had happened over the last near 1,000 years, to his words just now and brought her arms up to drape over his shoulders, "I think I may need to amend my plan."

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow, ignoring her small giggle at the fact that she could now tell as he had eyebrows, "To what?"

"Tailor and Clara go fetch the coffees," she murmured, "Give our daughter more time with her Aunt Clara…while the two of us see what Sissy may or may not have done to our bedroom?" he blinked, "I mean," she started to get a bit sly, "After that tantrum you threw about rooms having beds, my love, we ought to make sure we still have one…"

He swallowed hard, nodding dumbly, before he took her hand and the two raced off down the halls of the TARDIS.

~8~

In a quaint little garden, the half-faced man gasped as he jolted awake, sitting on a chair stationed at the edge of a patio, facing a dark haired woman in Victorian garb sitting on the edge of a fountain before him, "Hello!" she greeted, standing up, her light eyes sparkling, "I'm Missy. You made it," she walked over to sit beside him, a little glass table between them, "I hope my boyfriend wasn't too mean to you."

"Boyfriend?" he blinked, not sure what that meant.

She rolled her eyes, "Let me guess, he let his little bitty Mate deal with you or did he shove you out a window?" she sighed, sounding almost disappointed, like she knew the answer and wasn't happy, "Well," she patted his hand, "He's very different this time, it seems, course I do like his new accent, though. Think I might keep it."

"Where am I?" the half-faced man looked around.

"Well, where do you think you are? Look around you, you made it. The Promised Land. Paradise!" she jumped to her feet and began to walk around the garden, throwing her arms out and spinning around, "Welcome...to Heaven!"

Chapter Text

"Ooh, I missed this!" Tailor cheered as she stood at the console, helping her parents fly the TARDIS, she had feared that she might have gotten rusty during the time she'd been away from the old box, but she was very relieved to see that she still had it, and…if she happened to miss something, her Aunt Idris was always very willing and ready to flip a switch for her.

Angel smiled over at her daughter, seeing the young girl just beaming as she worked her section of the controls. She couldn't help but observe the young girl, noting that she had evidently raided the wardrobe just as her father had, the two of them taking care this time to help each other select an outfit to surprise HER much like she and Tailor had done when the girl was younger and they'd both regenerated. She was back in her white and blue stripped poncho and boots, but the Doctor had selected a more casual suit. Black slacks, a black jacket with a red lining on the inside, and a white button up shirt. She was a little saddened that he had decided to refrain from any sort of tie this time, but he had just told her that ties just seemed too old, too much like the last hims and he wanted a fresh start. There was a stigma now, on both ties, just regular ones or even bowties, that made him hesitant to wear them. One tie represented a man that had broken promises to her, another a man that had forgotten her, he wanted to go back to a man that had rescued her, saved her, always been there for her no matter what, would give his life for her, as he had. So no tie this time.

She glanced down at his hand on the 'zig-zag plotter' as he loved to call it, and couldn't help the sigh from escaping her though she had a sad smile on her face, shaking her head as she thought on it. That was something he had kept despite it being a symbol for the last two hims as well. She'd been horrified to see his hand scarred so soon after regenerating. While the tie was a symbol of the two men and how they'd, somehow, failed her, the scarring was, he'd explained, more a promise to himself, like the Corsair's tattoo, he didn't feel like HIM without the scars on his knuckles, because they were something unique to the two of them, to their Mating and relationship. He had gotten those scars saving her, had gotten them in his rage at forgetting her, he wanted them with him always, a reminder and a warning to himself of what he had and what he had nearly lost. She was saddened to think it meant he would likely injure himself each and every new incarnation now, but she couldn't refuse him this.

He was like a martyr in a way, suffering even now, even after she'd forgiven him for something that wasn't even his fault. He understood, of course, that there was no helping an impulse given by the Silence, but he still felt badly that he had hurt her, that she had been hurt and a large part of it was due to him. If this was his way of coping with what had happened, she would let him do it.

She felt her smile grow more genuine as she looked at their daughter once more, it seemed like only yesterday she was wearing her little dress and giggling as the family presented her with a miniature K9, the little robotic dog was resting at her feet as she piloted, having been trapped in the TARDIS while they'd been dealing with Charlotte and the half-faced man. Now her daughter was centuries older, and with growing up she now had a new style sense. It had been rather limited in Christmas, despite the centuries going by, the styles of the little town hadn't changed much from their Victorian themes. Tailor had branched out now, and this her seemed to have taken a little style tip from Clara.

Tailor was wearing a long shirt, similar to the dress Clara had been wearing when they first met her and dealt with the robots sucking people into the wi-fi. It was a deep green color, long sleeved, but more like a long, fitted tunic, than a dress. It went just to her mid thighs, hanging a bit lower in the back. She had stayed away from leggings and selected a pair of brown skinny jeans, wearing white converse, just like her father's 10th incarnation had. She could see, when Tailor moved to the side a bit or leaned over, a hint of pink peeking out from her shoes, she had selected pink shoelaces, to match the bowtie necklace she still wore. Her hair was down, hanging freely, parted in the middle, her eyes were just sparkling with joy.

"As did we," Angel finally spoke, reaching over to pat the rotor, "We missed you old girl."

The Doctor let out a low chuckle as the box hummed back happily, even HE could tell that the box was trying to say she missed them too. He was quite glad she wasn't cross with him for essentially abandoning her, it couldn't be helped and it was the safer option. It seemed once the TARDIS realized he had regenerated, that he had basically died, she had calmed down about it.

"Yes, it's good to be home," he nodded, though his expression started to grow more serious when he caught sight of a red flashing light near the monitor, "Now, what do we have here…"

Angel and Tailor glanced at each other a moment, before moving to the Doctor's side, looking at what the scanners had picked up. A small space fighter was dodging asteroids and lasers fired at it.

"Those lasers," the Doctor tensed, after centuries of battling against them, he could recognize Dalek tech anywhere.

"They're being hunted," Tailor breathed, frowning.

Angel, however, just smiled, "Well then, we had best save the day."

~8~

"Aristotle!" a young black woman shouted as she tried to frantically pilot the space fighter, dodging asteroids as she went, glancing at the man sitting beside her, gravely injured and unconscious, "This is Wasp Delta, do you hear me?" she let out a frustrated groan at the silence that answered her and turned to reach out to the man beside her, calling, "Stay with me, Kai. Stay with me, please," before she had to put her hands back on the controls as the Daleks blasted at her, "Aristotle! We have been hit. Major damage. Aristotle!" she gasped as a ship flew over her, "Aristotle! The enemy are right on top of us!" she could feel her eyes filling with tears as she saw a laser powering up, aimed right at them. She reached out to grab the man's hand, "I'm sorry," she breathed.

"Exterminate!" came over the comms., and she closed her eyes tightly for the blast to come…

"Quickly!"

The woman's eyes snapped open, gaping as she saw she was not in her ship any longer but an odd room, before her mind caught up to her and she looked to the left at the sound of a distinctly NOT Dalek voice right beside her, to see an older woman with strawberry blonde hair rushing to the side of the man in her grip.

"Kai!" the woman gasped as the boy half fell over, having gone from sitting up to having no seat beneath him, falling to the ground as she struggled to lie him flat.

"Doctor!" the strawberry blonde woman called out again.

"We couldn't save the ship, mum," another girl, just as blonde, but younger, responded from a console, an older man frantically moving around.

"And now we've got to get out," the man grumbled, "The Daleks are locking on us," he glanced over, "We've got this, Angel, you take care of him."

The blonde woman, Angel, nodded, moving to kneel before Kai, her hands reaching for his chest.

"Oi!" the woman nearly leapt forward, glaring, "What are you doing!?"

"Trying to save him," Angel looked her in the eye, "Please, let me."

The woman looked down at the boy as he struggled to breathe, his head lulling to the side, and nodded. Anything that could save her brother she would do, no matter if it meant letting some strange woman touch him in some odd spaceship.

Angel gave her a reassuring smile, looking back down at the young man, holding her hands over his chest where the worst of his wounds were, a soft golden glow drifting out of her and seeping into him.

"Don't be alarmed if you feel a bit sick," the other blonde, the girl, called as she moved to sit next to her, reaching out to take her hand, "I'm Tailor."

"Um…Journey," the woman offered, her attention turning back to her brother, "That's Kai."

"Nice to meet you, Journey," Angel glanced up, "And you as well, Kai, though I wish it had been under better circumstances," she winced as the boy groaned, but the color was coming back to his face, he was breathing easier.

Journey nearly sobbed at the sight of the wounds closing, healing, at whatever that Angel woman was doing, but she held it in, she was a soldier damn it! She had to be stronger than this…but instead, all that came out, wasn't a demand for information at gunpoint as she knew she ought to do, but a quiet, "How did we get here?"

"That was me!" Tailor smiled, beamed more like it, very proud of herself, "I set the TARDIS, that's our ship, down in your ship, right around the two of you, just before your ship exploded. Dad said that I could only materialize around one of you, but mum helped me and we got you both!"

"I should know by now not to bet against a psychic," the Doctor mumbled behind them, piloting the box away from the worst of the Dalek attack, "And you're very welcome!"

Journey winced, "Thank you."

Tailor just rolled her eyes, "Ignore him, dad gets rude when he's cranky," she leaned in, "Daleks make him very cranky…" she glanced at the boy lying on the ground, nearly completely healed now, "He'll be cranky till mum's done helping your brother and can calm him down."

"I am not cranky," the Doctor huffed.

Tailor just gave Journey a sly smile, mouthing 'SO cranky.'

"There," Angel's voice pulled Journey back to her brother, not even realizing she hadn't quite told them the man was her brother yet they all seemed to think it, "He'll be just fine," she pulled back, the glowing stopping, "But he'll be very exhausted. Best let him rest," she eyed Journey, "Is there anything else we can do to help?"

Journey blinked, shaking her head, startled out of her relief that her brother was going to live and remembering she really was a soldier, "Yes. I'm Lieutenant Journey Blue of the Combined Galactic Resistance. I demand you take us back to our command ship, the Aristotle, which is currently located…"

"No," the Doctor's voice cut in as he walked over, not sitting down, but standing beside Angel, his arms crossed, a frown on his face, his eyes nearly narrowed at her, "Not like that."

Journey just glared up at him, pushing herself to her feet, "You WILL take us back to our command ship, which is currently positioned…"

"No, no," the Doctor rolled his eyes, "Come on. Not like that. Not like that. Get it right!"

Tailor tugged on Journey's arm, "Manners," she whispered helpfully. For as rude as her father was to practically everyone else, he absolutely hated when others were rude to them, or more so to her or her mother.

Journey took a frustrated breath, "Will you take us back to our ship? Please?"

"Of course," Angel stood, the Doctor holding out a hand without her asking to help her up, "We need to get your brother somewhere more secure to rest, and in an infirmary more prepared to treat humans," she nodded, moving to the console.

"The Aristotle's the big fella parked in the asteroid belt, yeah?" the Doctor called, following his Mate.

"It's shielded," Journey warned.

"Not to Aunt Idris," Tailor grinned, getting up and joining her parents, "She can go anywhere. She's amazing like that," she patted the rotor as the box hummed proudly around her.

Journey could only stand there and look on, completely flabbergasted at the turn of events.

~8~

It didn't take much for the TARDIS to break through the shielding around the Aristotle, something Journey felt she should bring up to their commander. If one ship could so easily get through then it was only a matter of time before the Daleks could. Though she was quite sure the Daleks would not be as subtle as the Doctor, as she'd been introduced, or the others were in settling down in a small corner of the Medical section…in a bright blue Police Telephone box. The Daleks would have to be nutters to fly around in something like that.

Which DID make her wonder about the Doctor's sanity if THAT was his spaceship…

Journey was the first one out, Kai's arm draped over her shoulder as she staggered to support him, refusing Angel's offer of assistance. The woman had saved her brother, she knew that, but HOW she had done it still left her wary and careful. She wouldn't trust anyone else with her brother but herself.

"It's smaller on the outside," Journey murmured as she took a single moment to observe the blue box before calling over two passing soldiers to help her with her brother.

The Doctor just huffed at her choice of words, "It's a bit more exciting when you go the other way."

"Hold on," Tailor frowned, observing the room, "This isn't a battleship," she realized, pointing to a symbol on the walls, "Medical insignia. It's a hospital!"

"Unfortunately not all hospitals are good," Angel murmured sadly, her mind drifting back to New Earth and a handful of other hospitals that held sinister secrets. Oh she really hoped this wasn't going to be one of those trips. She'd had enough life endangerment to last the rest of her lives, but she knew it would be too much to hope that they might get a nice, quiet, safe trip when the Doctor was around.

She was just tired though, it had been…a very long last few 900 years. They were entitled to some rest.

"We don't need hospitals now," another man in a uniform strode over, a beard growing on his face, "The Daleks don't leave any wounded, and we don't take any prisoners."

"Sir, Kai," Journey turned to him, "He was…" she hesitated to speak, not entirely sure HOW to describe what had happened. If she said that her brother had been nearly killed, wounded, and was miraculously healed by an Angel…he'd have her sectioned, "He was hurt. Knocked out."

"He was lucky," the man glanced over at the two soldiers hauling Kai off, "Not many are."

"Yes, yes he was," the Doctor nodded, "But, what else would you expect with Angel here," he placed an arm around Angel's shoulders, "My Mate, my good luck charm."

Angel shook her head fondly at him, "We were able to help is all," she said modestly, making Tailor smile at her mother for that.

Tailor couldn't help but add a small laugh as well, even if it was under her breath. She'd heard stories of how her mother had tried to work out why she had the Vortex inside her, why the TARDIS had given it to her before Aunt Idris had been able to actually TELL her. She really couldn't understand how it had taken her parents so long to realize the reason. Her mother was modest and humble, she didn't want for power and she would never abuse it. The true symbol of someone who deserved power was a person who didn't want it. Even now, her mother could be praised, heralded as a goddess, but she brushed it off. What's more, she gave credit where it was due. It wasn't JUST her that helped Kai and Journey, it was all three of them, and she made sure that it was known.

If she could be half the person her mother was, she'd consider herself a good person…well, she could only be half the person her mother was…she WAS half Doctor too and his ego could rival the moons of Jupiter.

"Thank you," the general turned to the trio, a genuine tone in his voice, a care that spoke of more than just a man in command of soldiers.

Angel seemed to notice that instantly, "Your nephew will be just fine," she reassured him, startling the man a moment though he glanced at Journey as though just assuming she'd mentioned his connection to the siblings.

"And you're welcome," the Doctor added.

"We do wish we could have done more," Tailor's smile turned into a small frown, "But," she looked at her parents, "Maybe we could help now?"

The Doctor stiffened at that, clearly not keen to stay around the Daleks longer than he had to.

"They are OUR enemy," Angel agreed, looking at her Mate with understanding. And she did, understand his hesitance. If they stayed, they would all be in danger and that was the last thing he wanted…but the Daleks were waging this war against the Universe because of the Time Lords and the War and all the other times they had failed to truly stop them. They owed it to the humans to help.

The Doctor let out a long breath, "If we must," he gave in, the corners of his lips quirking into a smile at the wide grins his daughter and Mate bestowed upon him for his agreement.

He was truly doomed wasn't he if he couldn't say no to either of them.

"As tempting as that is," the general rolled his eyes as though he didn't see what help they could be, "The security of this base is absolute. So we're going to kill you."

"Well that's rude," Tailor muttered.

"No," Angel shook her head even as the soldiers that had accompanied the general raised their guns, "I don't think you will."

"Oh and why not?" the man narrowed his eyes at her, crossing his arms.

Angel eyed him for a moment, before her gaze drifted past him towards a hallway. She must have looked down it for a while for the general turned, tense, and glanced down it as well, his gaze flickering to Journey as he turned back to them.

Angel blinked and looked at him once more, "My Mate is a doctor," she stated, "Say what you will about this not being a hospital any longer, you have a patient. It's ill…it's…" she frowned, trying to place what she felt.

"Bad," Tailor offered, getting a feeling of goosebumps on her arms.

"Yes…" Angel answered slowly, but it wasn't quite the right feeling. It felt bad but also wrong at the same time…

"Uncle," Journey looked at the general, "If they can tell us how it got to be how it is, maybe we can use that."

The general huffed after a moment, "Follow me," he turned on his heel and briskly walked off, expecting the others to follow.

"Why does a hospital need a doctor?" the Doctor asked Angel quietly as they walked, Tailor just before them.

He must not have been quiet enough for the general answered, "The Aristotle wasn't always hidden. The Daleks got here before us."

The Doctor was sorely tempted to remark that he wasn't asking the man but held his tongue. The expression on Angel, and even Tailor's face, made him uneasy. It was like they were hesitant, but curious, Angel though seemed conflicted the farther away they got from the TARDIS.

'What is it?' he asked her quietly in her mind.

'I don't know,' she murmured back, 'It…I'm not sure I want to know what made this…patient…ill, or if it even is ill…and if it's not ill, I think it will just make everything harder.'

He frowned at that, for Angel not to want to know what was wrong with it it must be serious.

"You don't like soldiers much, do you?" Journey observed the Doctor, noting how tense he was, how he kept Angel close to his side, his gaze fixed on his daughter though his eyes darted to the numerous soldiers around them as though sizing them up as a threat.

"You don't need to be liked," he stated, "You've got all the guns."

Tailor snorted a bit at that, "All the guns in the universe wouldn't help them against mum."

The Doctor's lip quirked up in a smirk, "One 'nice to meet you' and that smile you've got, Angel, and they wouldn't be able to harm a single hair on your head."

Angel rolled her eyes though she knew that he'd said it just because they couldn't exactly talk about how powerful the Vortex was or that it was inside her while surrounded by soldiers. She didn't want to appear as a hostile threat.

'It's true though,' the Doctor's words echoed in her head, leaning over to press a quick kiss to her temple. He wasn't as openly affectionate as his last self had been, or even the one before that, but he tried to show his care for her as much as he could. Even if it was 'him' or the new him at least, he didn't want to let who he'd become take away from the love he felt for her inside him. And if that meant an oddly placed kiss or two here and there, he'd do it happily. He never wanted her to question his love for her ever again.

Their attention was pulled back when the general slowed, having led them through corridor after corridor until they reached a door marked '078' with two guards sanding before it.

"Is that a moleculon nanoscaler!?" Tailor shouted, not having noticed the general slowing down and practically bumping into him as she caught sight of what appeared to be a large, clear, plastic tube with benches inside it off to the other side of the room.

"You know what it does, then?" Journey seemed surprised

"It's in the name, isn't it?" Tailor blinked at the woman simply, "Makes molecules small, shrinks things basically."

"What's the medical application, though?" the Doctor challenged her, "Do you use it to shrink the surgeons so they can climb inside the patients?"

Tailor shrugged, "I guess so."

"Fantastic idea for a movie. Terrible idea for a proctologist."

Angel shook her head at him, "I think it's already a movie," she remarked, searching her memory and vaguely recalling Rory mentioning it once after the Teselecta incident.

"Are WE going to be miniaturized?" Tailor looked over at the general.

"HE might," the man nodded at the Doctor, "He's the doctor isn't he?"

"I don't go anywhere, full size or miniature, without my girls," the Doctor frowned at the man, daring him to separate him from his Mate and Daughter just for his patient.

"We're his nurses," Tailor said proudly.

Angel's smile grew a bit sad at that, nostalgic, as she thought of a particular nurse that had been a large part of their lives. Good old Rory, she had been right when she'd felt that a nurse would be her next companion. He had been an amazing person and a wonderful human being, one of the best companions she'd ever had, granted she'd only had 2 so far, but it didn't matter. Her companions were always in her hearts.

It made her curious who her next companion would be though, if she might even want to take on another one. Rory had left such a big hole in her hearts when he and Amy left, just as big a one that Mickey did. One hole for each heart, could she handle a third one?

"I don't care who you are so long as you can tell us about this patient," the general deadpanned, turning to open the door to the room.

A single blue light was shining in the darkness within…an all too familiar light to the Doctor and Angel, a light that they had both seen right at the start of their adventures together, Angel in her captivity, and the Doctor when he went to see Van Statten's pet.

A Dalek eye stalk.

The trio of Time Lords were too stunned to speak even as the lights came on to give a better look at a Dalek that looked frighteningly similar to the one that had been locked up with Angel.

"Doctor?" its raspy voice called as it tugged itself forward weakly, cables and wires holding it back...

~8~

Clara Oswald couldn't help but smile in amusement as she watched a group of young boys wearing shirts reading 'Coal Hill Cadet Corps' doing some exercises in the playground of the school. She wasn't sure at the moment if she was more amused by the sight of the children 'training' or the man training them. Daniel Pink was the new Maths teacher, she hadn't been introduced officially to him yet, but everyone seemed to know the new man around. He was a tall man, very fit, dark skinned, with short, nearly buzzed, hair and a very neat, equally short beard. He was standing before the students, his hands behind his back in a rather militant fashion while he addressed them.

"Atten-shun!" he called as the children scrambled to get into the right position, "Look at you lot. I've never seen such a miserable bunch. What are you, children?"

"Yes, sir!" a boy called out.

Pink stepped before the boy, eyeing him, "You think you're funny, Fleming?"

"Yes, sir."

The man couldn't help but smile at that, "Alright, me too," he looked up as the bell rang, "Dis-missed!" he ordered and the boys ran off to get ready for classes, leaving Clara to smile at them as she followed them in.

~8~

Danny Pink's day had not started off well.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, he'd gotten a smile from Clara Oswald, one of the English teachers at the school that he may or may not have taken a fancy to from the moment he saw her, while she was watching him with the Cadets.

That had been a great start to the day…

Only it hadn't stayed that way. One of the secretary's had made a few innuendos about his weekend, and made it quite clear she didn't believe him at all that he was 'just reading' the entire time. Then a boy in his class had asked him if he'd ever killed a man, being that almost the entire school knew he was in the army before teaching. He'd tried to play it off that, he was at war, he was a soldier, there were other soldiers around that weren't his allies and to understand the implication in that. But the boy just wouldn't let up and had gone on to ask if he'd ever killed someone that wasn't a soldier.

He may or may not have let a tear slip as the class filed out of the room.

Because the awful truth was that…he had.

To make matters even worse from having to remember the agonizingly painful memory of a mistake he'd made that haunted his every waking moment since it happened…

He'd made an utter fool out of himself in front of Clara.

It had almost been a good moment, the headmaster had finally introduced him to Clara, officially, but then gone on to joke about his 'reputation,' as though he even had one, as a lady-killer. She had tried to joke with him about the Cadets, how he'd called it a bit of fun but she'd not seen the fun in teaching children to shoot people. He'd tried to defend that he was NOT teaching that, just trying to build some moral character in the kids.

She'd made a joke about shooting someone and then having a cry afterwards and he knew she was joking, but the memory of the class, and how the students loved to gossip had him basically getting defensive about it and, when he'd realized she really had no idea what had happened in his class earlier, frantically backpedaling to try and keep her from hearing about how he'd cried in front of his students.

To make matters worse, she'd asked him about going to a retirement party for one of the other teachers. He'd said no. She'd asked him to change his mind. He'd said no.

And WHY did he say no? What could he possibly have to do that was more exciting and worthwhile than spending time with Clara when she was making it clear that she might actually want to spend time with him too?

Reading.

He'd actually SAID that. That he had reading to do. His brain had come up with that excuse and reasoned that it was a good one and his mouth had blurted it out.

"Yeah," he muttered under his breath as he practically fell into the chair of his classroom, "I wasn't going, but I am now, because you're going to be there, and suddenly it seems like the best idea ever. Actually, now that you mention it, seems like the best plan ever. Thank you. Thank you!" he huffed, letting his head fall forward to bang down on his desk, repeatedly.

"Ahem," a voice cleared from beside him and he looked over to see Clara standing in the doorway, an amused smile on her face once more, "Is the wooden sound you or…or the desk?"

He winced at that, "How long have you been there?"

She snorted adorably at his embarrassment, "Longer than you would like."

"Ok," he moved to drop his head back onto the desk, absolutely mortified.

Clara's smile turned equal parts sympathetic and coy, "Are you going to look that terrified when you take me out for a drink?"

Danny sat bolt upright at that, "I…I absolutely promise I won't."

Clara nodded at that, good, "Play your cards right and you might," she gave him a wink and turned to leave the classroom, a pleased smile on her face at how relieved and happy Danny appeared as well.

She turned around a corner, glancing up and down the hall before stepping into a supply cupboard she'd been instructed, via a phone call from Angel, to visit after classes were over...and nearly fell back into the hall as she almost walked into the TARDIS as it sat right within the door's path. She rolled her eyes at the parking job, debating who it had been to land the box there this time. Knowing the awkward size of the cupboard and how the TARDIS barely fit, it would be the Doctor. But, then again, given the awkward size of the cupboard and how the TARDIS barely fit, only Angel would be able to pilot it there to actually FIT.

Maybe it was both of them, she mused as she pushed the doors open and strode in.

"You know, I love a little vacation as much as the next person," she called, moving up towards the console to the three Time Lords as they moved about to fly off, "But three weeks is an awful long time to not get a phone call," she looked more pointedly at Angel and Tailor for that.

"The Doctor fried the wires," Angel answered with an apologetic smile, "I managed to reconnect them, but they're off by an 18 day margin and we're in a bit of a rush, couldn't jump back further to make the call closer to when we last saw you."

Clara was tempted to frown at that in concern before her curiosity piqued, "What was so important that you couldn't...right," she nodded to herself answering the question, "You'd be crossing timelines to do it," she joined them.

"Why are you smiling?" the Doctor answered instead, eyeing her oddly.

Clara blinked, "Was I?"

"You were," Tailor grinned at her aunt.

"No, I wasn't," Clara denied it.

"You were smiling at nothing," Tailor teased.

"I'd almost say you were in love, but to be honest…" the Doctor began.

"Honest?" Clara did frown this time, not sure she liked where he was heading.

"You're not a young woman anymore."

Ok, very much did not like where he'd just gone.

"Yes, I am," Clara defended.

"Well, you don't look it."

"I do look it!"

Angel reached out and gently placed a hand on the Doctor's mouth to keep him from insulting Clara more, "You look lovely, Clara," Angel reassured her, "And whoever has you smiling, he's likely smiling even wider because it's you."

Clara couldn't help but blush at that, pleased, before shaking her head, not really wanting to get into the topic of why she was smiling or who made her, even though, judging by the look Angel was giving her, she had a fairly strong feeling about it already, "So what was so important?" she repeated.

"We need something from you," the Doctor straightened, pulling Angel's hand away from his mouth with a small kiss to the palm of it as he lowered it, "I need the truth."

Clara nearly rolled her eyes at how he'd avoided the question again, "Ok. What is it?"

The Doctor hesitated.

"Dad's a bit…scared," Tailor offered instead.

"I'll have you know, I am not scared," the Doctor grumbled, "I'm terrified."

Tailor shook her head in amusement at that, as though being terrified was better.

"Of what?" Clara looked at Angel and Tailor for that, because the only thing she could think of that could make him terrified was something being dangerous to them.

"The answer to my next question," the Doctor began, twining his fingers with Angel's, gripping her hand, "Tailor and Angel are too close, they're too biased," he added, answering Clara's next question of why he was asking HER instead of his daughter or Mate, "So your answer must be honest and cold and considered, without kindness or restraint. Clara, be my pal and tell me...am I a good man?"

"I…" Clara hesitated a moment, "You've only just regenerated," she said by way of explanation for her next words, "I don't actually really know the sort of man you are yet."

She knew the sort of man she thought he was, she knew he could never be a BAD man, but that was also based on the last him she knew, not the current him. And there were many variations of 'good' that he could be. He could be good with his family and terrible with his friends, or good with aliens and terrible with humans, there were so many different ways to be good, she couldn't say with certainty which good he was just yet.

"Neither do I," the Doctor sighed, "And as much as my lovely Mate vouches for the man I am," he gave Angel a kind smile, "I think it's one of those things I must discover for myself."

"And then I get to say 'mum told you so' when he finds out mum was right," Tailor added with a cheeky grin that made her father roll his eyes playfully at her.

"Ok," Clara said slowly, "But do you need to find that out right now? I mean, do you need me for it? I have plans…"

"I'll pilot you back," Angel offered.

Clara looked at her a moment for that, reading between the lines of what Angel was saying. For Angel to offer to pilot back…it meant they really needed Clara to come with them for this, if Angel thought she was needed too…well she wasn't going to abandon the Time Lords now.

"Where are we going?" she asked instead.

"Into darkness," was all the Doctor said before the TARDIS took off.

~8~

The Time Lords had stood before the chained Dalek's door of the Aristotle, silently observing the mutant.

"Doctor," it wheezed.

Angel inhaled deeply at its recognition of only the Doctor, squeezing his hand as he'd refused to let go of hers, both of them thankful it hadn't recognized their daughter though she knew he was also thankful it hadn't recognized her either.

"How do you know who I am?" the Doctor demanded.

"He doesn't," the general stated, "We promised him medical assistance."

"Are you my doctor?" the Dalek called

"We found it floating in space," Journey added.

"We thought it was deactivated, so we tried to disassemble it," the general informed them.

"And didn't know there was something living inside it," Angel murmured, her voice so quiet that the Doctor squeezed her hand again as Tailor put a hand on her shoulder, knowing where her mother's mind had gone. To Van Statten's reaction when he'd realized there was something inside the metaltron too.

"Not till it started screaming," Journey stated, making Angel wince as another memory, a phantom sound, echoed in her mind. She couldn't count the number of times she'd fallen asleep or woken to the sounds of the Dalek screaming.

"Help me," this Dalek begged, sounding so much like the other one.

"Why would I do that?" the Doctor nearly sneered at it, "Why would any living creature help you?"

"Daleks will die!"

"Die all you like," he waved it off, actually pleased with that consequence, "Not my problem."

"Daleks must be destroyed!"

THAT, however, was a consequence he was not expecting and, judging by Angel's expression, neither was she.

"Did it just say…" Tailor frowned at the pepperpot.

"Daleks must be destroyed," Angel repeated quietly, sounding quite confused to even say it as well.

"All Daleks must die!" the Dalek before them started to screech, straining against its chains as though it wanted to go right out there and attack the Daleks itself, which it very well did, "I will destroy the Daleks. Destroy the Daleks. Destroy the Daleks!"

"Well…" Angel murmured, "That I did NOT see coming…"

Chapter Text

Clara watched as the Doctor and Angel stood at the console of the TARDIS, Tailor kneeling on the ground by one of the chairs, MK9 before her, giving the dog a bit of a shine while her parents fiddled.

"A good Dalek?" Clara asked, taking a sip of her coffee, having been filled in on the story of the Dalek on the spaceship that the soldiers there were expecting the Doctor to examine.

"There's no such thing," the Doctor stated firmly.

Clara nodded, able to understand their hesitance to believe such a thing. Not only were her memories of her time as a Time Lady coming to the forefront of her thought, remembering the horror that was the war brought about by the Daleks. But she was remembering her time on the Alaska as well, the agonizing experiments they put her through, the terror she felt in trying to hide from them, how they'd stripped her of everything that made her human and turned her into one of them. And even in this life, she could remember Christmas, the Daleks flying everywhere, converging in the hopes of killing the Doctor and destroying his family, HER family.

There was not a single memory in her head where she could recall a 'good' Dalek. Oh sure, 'good' by their standards, brutal killing machines, but not by what a human would deem as a good being. So she was not about to argue with him over it. To anyone else that knew the Doctor but never encountered Daleks, she was sure it would sound inflexible, unlike him, prejudiced almost. But she HAD experienced them and she knew, without a doubt, that they were exactly that, bad, heartless, evil, not a speck of good in them at all.

"Dalek Sec," Angel murmured, glancing up at the Doctor, "Dalek Caan…for a brief moment, the Dalek in Van Statten's…"

The Doctor snorted at that, rolling his eyes at the examples of the somewhat questionably 'good' Daleks they HAD faced in the past, "The one in Van Statten's was only playing 'good' to escape before it shot you. Dalek Ca'an went insane and that was what turned him on his people, and Dalek Sec only became 'good' after he'd been mixed full of Human DNA. There has never been, and there never will be, a good Dalek."

Angel gave him a sad look for that, "Are you the psychic one now? You 'saw' this?"

He shook his head, "No, but I KNOW it."

Angel sighed, looking at the screen of the Aristotle and the databanks they'd hacked into for the story behind 'Rusty' as the humans had called him. She knew it was likely a very, very slim chance that there was a good Dalek just out of nowhere. Chances were, something had happened to him, like with Sec or Ca'an, that had MADE him into what he was, made him hate the other Daleks. But a part of her wanted to hope, as small a part of her as it was, that Daleks could be good. For as many Daleks as there were, there had to be at least ONE that disagreed, statistically there had to be.

Realistically, she knew, deep down, that it was not likely to happen. The Daleks shared a hive mind, they shared the same thoughts and drive and DNA. The chances of just one of the many being 'good' was non-existent. But, at the same time, if this WAS a case where something had turned Rusty this way, then there stood to reason that there was a chance to do the same thing to the other Daleks. If they could convert them the same way Rusty had been, it would give them a fighting chance at stopping the Dalek threat.

"There has to be something wrong with him," Tailor spoke up, walking over to her parents as MK9 followed her.

The Doctor nodded and pointed at her, "Daleks don't just go 'good' for no reason."

"If something DID happen to it though," Angel looked at them, "If we can find out what, we might be able to do that to the other Daleks too."

The Doctor paused to consider that. He'd been of the mind and intention to pick up Clara, get her thoughts on it, on whether he should examine the Dalek, and go from there. His daughter and Mate were too kind to refuse helping the humans with their Dalek dilemma, he had no problem at all leaving them to their battle if it meant protecting his family. So Clara was going to be the deciding factor. It might have been a bit unfair to do so, since Clara had never had good experiences with the creatures, she was likely to say leg it.

But he honestly hadn't considered that. If they could work out what happened to Rusty, they might be able to turn the entire Dalek force against itself.

"I can assist!" MK9 called out, rolling over to the Doctor and bumping against his leg.

The Doctor looked down at the robotic dog and sighed, "Seems I'm outnumbered."

He was starting to think he should push Angel to find another companion, maybe even open the floor to Tailor to do the same. The woman did tend to pick men for her companion, and Tailor had adored her Uncle Rory when he travelled with them so she might go for a male companion as well…maybe then things would be evened out and he'd stop being overruled by the women.

The TARDIS hummed loudly as though hearing his voice.

Angel smiled, reaching out to take the Doctor's hand, "Sissy says never ever."

The Doctor could only roll his eyes at that.

~8~

Journey looked up as the wheezing noise filled the bay once more, the bright blue telephone box fading into existence before her. She waited a moment more, not sure if she should knock on the door or not, when the doors were pulled open and the Doctor stepped out with another woman joining them, short with brown hair.

"That was quick," Journey remarked.

"Time Machine," Tailor offered.

"Sissy is very good," Angel agreed.

"Hello," Clara stepped forward to shake Journey's hand, "Clara."

"Journey," she offered, returning the handshake.

"Yes, this is gun girl," the Doctor added, eyeing Journey and the gun still strapped to her uniform, "She's got a gun, and she's a girl. This is a sort of boss one," he continued to make introductions, nodding at Journey's uncle as he stood beside Journey, unamused, "Are you the same one as before?"

"Yes," the man stated, "Captain Morgan."

"I think he's probably her uncle, but I may have made that up to pass the time while they were talking."

"He is, my love," Angel stepped beside the Doctor and took his hand, "She called him uncle."

"Did she?" he mused, "I don't remember, probably not important to know. You know what IS important," he turned to her with a grin, "This is my Mate, Angel."

Angel laughed at that, though she looked at him fondly for that. It was something she'd noticed had carried over from the last him, the incessant need for just about everyone in the vicinity to know she was his Mate.

"Oi, what am I, chopped liver?" Tailor teased.

The Doctor reached out to put an arm around his daughter's shoulders, "My daughter."

She was just teasing, of course, he'd introduced her as his daughter earlier, everyone in the room knew it. She had to shake her head at his behavior though, it was sweet. And given how his last incarnation had gone with her mother, she was not about to chastise him for his disregard of other people and focus on his family. In her opinion, after everything her family had been through since the War, and even earlier, they deserved a little more focus on each other. The humans were brilliant and she loved them all, her extended family was made up of mostly humans, but she also knew her mother and father were brilliant and she adored them, the humans could wait just a moment for recognition.

Clara laughed a little under her breath and joined in, clearing her throat playfully and giving the Doctor an expectant look.

He rolled his eyes and heaved a mocking-sigh, "And this is Clara, my sister."

"How is the Dalek?" Angel asked, getting them back on topic, knowing that this could go on for quite some time and…if there WAS something actually wrong with the Dalek, it would be better to get it dealt with quickly and now.

"Yes," the Doctor sighed, "Show me to my patient."

Journey nodded and turned with her uncle to lead them through the base once more, the walk far more quiet this time than it had been. No one said a word till they reached Rusty's room and the door opened to reveal the Dalek still sitting there.

"Doctor," it greeted.

"Hello again," the Doctor muttered, not sounding at all pleased to be having this conversation.

"Will you help me?"

Clara glanced at the Doctor for that, honestly not sure what he would do. She knew she had given her opinion, that the Daleks were nothing but a disease and should be wiped out, not helped, but Angel did have a point, and…was that really the example they wanted to give Tailor, that it was ok to not help just because you had an issue with one factor in a situation? If they left, the humans would still be faced with a Dalek threat, still fighting a battle the Time Lords had failed to end. Whether or not they helped Rusty, they would still need to help the rest of the humans.

And, who knew, by helping the pepperpot, maybe they WOULD be helping the humans.

The Doctor just observed Rusty a moment longer, "A Dalek so damaged, it's turned good. Morality as malfunction. How do I resist?"

"Daleks must die!" Rusty began to strain against his chains once more, "Daleks must die!"

"So, what do we do with a moral Dalek, then?" Clara had to ask.

"We have to examine it first, right?" Tailor looked to her father.

The Doctor nodded, "We get into its head."

Angel shifted a bit at that, "You don't mean that metaphorically, do you?"

"Fraid not," he replied, turning to Angel, "You know better than anyone that it's nearly impossible to examine a Dalek from the outside."

"Affirmative!" MK9 agreed, having scuttled along beside Tailor as they'd walked, and tried his own hand at scanning the metaltron before them, "Scans cannot breach metal."

"But…HOW do we get into its head?" Clara asked.

The Doctor just looked past them, into the nearby lab, where the moleculon nanoscaler was sitting.

~8~

Angel just barely contained her laughter as she observed Tailor rushing into the moleculon nanoscaler and sitting down with an excited grin on her face. It wouldn't be anything different than what the TARDIS could do, shrink down to size if need be, but she could understand the interest in seeing what the human tech did and how it compared. The girl looked just thrilled to be there.

The Doctor, not so much.

Oh it had been hilarious to watch the father and daughter get into a bit of a verbal sparring match over whether or not Tailor should be allowed to go with them into a Dalek. Clara had voted yes, not that the Doctor had been asking any of them for a vote. Tailor had brought up some very good points, citing that if she was capable of living in a battle worn Christmas for centuries as a child, then she would be able to handle a single Dalek now that she was more grown. And it wasn't like they would be staring down its eyestalk or laser, they'd be inside it where she was sure they could handle any inner defenses it had. And HE would be there, along with her mother, and her aunt, and she would be safer with them than in the ship where masses of Daleks were outside and looking for them. AND her mother would be there and able to teleport any of them out if the danger got too bad. Her mother, who was also psychic and saw more of her daughter and Mate than anyone else.

The Doctor had lost the case when his only argument was 'it's dangerous' and ended up resorting to 'because I say so.'

"It'll be fine, my love," Angel reassured him as they too moved into the nanoscaler, a brand new wristband attached to their arms to help with the journey.

"I don't like this," he muttered back, sitting down across from Tailor, with Angel beside him. Tailor was still a little peeved at his attempts to keep her from joining and had reserved the seat next to her for her Aunt Clara. Sadly, MK9 was safely left in the TARDIS, Tailor had refused to risk her little doggy on a Dalek...which had only made the Doctor roll his eyes and grumble about how 'oh, sure, the DOG would be safe' and not his daughter.

"I don't either," Angel admitted, "For more than just our daughter coming."

The Doctor looked at her, 'Have you seen something?' he asked in her mind.

She shook her head, 'Just…feeling uneasy. As always with Daleks.'

The Doctor nodded and took her hand, lifting it to kiss the back of it before resting it on his knee to wait for the machine to power up.

"These are nanocontrollers," Journey was explaining to Clara as she moved to attach a bracelet to her wrist as well, "Once we're miniaturised, they…"

"Take over the molecular compression?" Clara guessed, recalling quite a bit of that from her various scientific lives.

Journey nodded, "When the mission's over, hit the button. Are you sure you'll be alright in there?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Clara asked absentmindedly as she fiddled with her band.

"Because this is a dangerous mission and you look like a school teacher."

"I am a school teacher," she offered Journey a smile, "And a Time Agent, among other things. I'll be fine."

"Aunt Clara, over here!" Tailor called, eagerly patting the space beside her as Clara stepped in.

"Hold on, hold on," the Doctor frowned as Journey stepped in after Clara with two other armed soldiers, a man and a woman, "What are those ones for? We don't need armed babysitters."

"We're not babysitters," the woman muttered.

The man just grinned, "We're here to shoot you dead if you turn out to be a Dalek spy."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, grumbling, "Well, that's a relief. I hate babysitters."

The two Time Ladies and Clara shared a secret smile at that, all of them had, at one point or another, felt like a babysitter to the Doctor.

"Angel," Angel offered by way of introduction, "The Doctor, Tailor, and Clara."

"Gretchen," the woman returned, "Ross, and you've met Journey."

"Nice to meet you," Angel replied with a smile.

"Ok, listen up," Journey cut in, "Now, remember, do not hold your breath when the nanoscaler engages. You'll feel like you want to, but you must keep breathing normally during the miniaturization process."

Clara frowned at that, feeling like she knew the reason why but it was escaping her.

"You remember when you tried to microwave that lasagna for me on Christmas?" Tailor whispered to Clara.

Clara didn't want to remember that moment, both the fiasco that was the literal Christmas but also the blunder she'd made in trying to cheer up the little Time Lady. Tailor had been so stricken when the Doctor and Angel sent her way from the war on Christmas, she could barely stand to even look at the turkey that had finished baking. So Clara had tried to make Tailor something else to eat and only really had some frozen lasagna. She'd been so distracted by everything she'd forgotten to prick the film on top of the container…the results hadn't been pretty. It had exploded everywhere.

"Right," Clara nodded, understanding.

They looked up when Morgan's voice sounded through the comm., "Nanoscaler engaging in five four three two…Nanoscaler engaging now!"

"Nanoscaling in progress," a computerized voice confirmed.

Clara gripped Tailor's hand as the vessel jolted, doing her best to keep breathing through it with the other humans, the Time Lords not seeming to have the same issue as they appeared completely unfazed. And how unfair was that! Probably an after affect of so much travel in the TARDIS as it got in and out of tricky spots.

A moment later there was a bump and the computer announced once more, "Nanoscaling complete."

"Nanoscaling successful," Morgan confirmed, "Everyone ok in there?"

"We're fine," Angel called out as the humans took a moment to get their breathing under control.

"Well we would be," the Doctor muttered, "Best good luck charm in the universe," he squeezed her hand once more with a gentle smile.

"Stop it," Angel blushed lightly and nudged him.

The capsule shook again, nearly sending them crashing into each other as they could see through the glass of it that they were being moved by a pair of tweezers.

"Confirming," Journey answered her uncle, knowing he'd want to hear from her as well, "We made it. Nobody popped."

"Ooh, I can't believe this," Clara stared out the windows.

"I know!" Tailor nearly wiggled in her seat, "This is amazing! Humans! They're so clever!"

The Doctor snorted at that, "Took the pudding brains far too long to work out this tech."

"Doctor…" Angel squeezed his hand and drew his attention back to the glass, they were approaching the Dalek's eyestalk…and slowly inserted through it.

"Oh that's disgusting," Clara grimaced.

"Come on," the Doctor stood and headed to the end hatch, pushing it open to see a shimmering blue wall before them. He reached out to touch it, pushing against it as it wobbled.

"We'll be following you all the way, Rescue One," Morgan called, "Good luck all of you."

Angel frowned at the shimmering wall, glancing at the Doctor out of the corner of her eye, 'I can probably create a passage…'

But he shook his head, 'Best not. We don't know the state the Dalek's in, if it ends up sensing the Vortex…'

She nodded, that could be very bad indeed.

Journey stepped up beside them, reaching out to push against the shimmering wall with the Doctor, the others moving to join before they pushed their way past it and into the Dalek's eyestalk.

"Integration complete," the computer of the capsule called, "Dalek levels steady."

"That was weird," Clara shivered as they all passed through it.

"I have a feeling it's going to get worse," Angel murmured, frowning as she looked around.

…small hovering balls shot a laser at Ross, disintegrating him…

…people gasped as they bobbed out of a thick layer of chunky liquid…

…Gretchen screamed as she stood in a recess of a wall, firing at same small round balls…

Angel looked over as the Doctor took her hand again, giving her a reassuring squeeze as he saw the vision play out across her mind.

"Are these the visual impulses?" Tailor called, standing closer to the walls, watching as a flicker of light travelled down what appeared to be a tube.

"Heading right for the brain," the Doctor confirmed.

"They're beautiful," Clara murmured.

"I've seen better," the Doctor brushed it off, with a glance at his Mate and daughter, before clapping his hands, "Right then, welcome you lot, to the most dangerous place in the universe."

Journey took a breath at that, reporting into her comm., "Entering the cranial ledge now. Here."

"Careful," Angel warned as they approached the ledge at the end of the eyestalk.

"Oh my god," Clara breathed as she leaned over slightly to look down at the rest of the Dalek from within. It was…disgusting. That was the word for it, utterly disgusting. It looked like a large, red, blob with tentacles everywhere and cables running down the side and hooking into it.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Tailor grimaced, regretting, for the first time, that she insisted to come.

"Behold, the belly of the beast," the Doctor couldn't help but smirk at Tailor's reaction. He'd tried to warn her.

"It's huge," Ross gaped.

"No, Ross, we're tiny," Gretchen reminded him.

Angel tilted her head as she looked down at the organic part of the Dalek, being so near it, it was like she could feel what it was feeling…and all it felt was anger and pain and hate. Normally all she felt near a Dalek was anger and hatred…the pain…that was the worrying part.

"So how big is it, that living part, compared to us, right now?" Clara asked.

"Big enough to be a threat," Angel murmured.

That seemed to startle the humans, "Does it know we're here?" Ross frowned.

"It's what invited us in," Journey remarked, as though it answered the question, which it did. It HAD to know they were there when it had done nothing but ask for help since they'd caught it.

The Doctor looked around and gestured at a row of banks along the wall, each with a set of vertical lights shining from it, "This is the cortex vault, a supplementary electronic brain. Memory banks, but more than that. This is what keeps the Dalek pure."

"How are Daleks pure?" Gretchen wondered.

"It's how they're created," Tailor answered, "Or how they like to think of themselves. They're mutants, born hating…everything that isn't Dalek."

"This is what stokes the fire," the Doctor tapped on the banks, "Extinguishes even the tiniest glimmer of kindness or compassion. Imagine the worst possible thing in the universe, then don't bother, because you're looking at it right now. This is evil refined as engineering."

"Doctor?" Rusty's voice echoed around them.

"Oh, hello, Rusty," he called out, "You don't mind if I call you Rusty? We're going to need to come down there with you. Medical examination, and all that."

"What, with those tentacles and things?" Gretchen seemed less than pleased to hear it.

Even Journey, the leader of the expedition seemed hesitant, "How close do we have to get?"

"Well, you know, we're never going to insert a thermometer from up here."

Journey looked over at Ross and nodded, the man quickly pulling some sort of device off his uniform…and firing it right at the ledge across the way, causing an echoing cry to resound around them.

"Did you just shoot it with a harpoon!?" Tailor cried, horrified. Even though it was a Dalek, and their entire race were the sworn enemies of Time Lords…this particular Dalek hadn't done anything yet and it had just gotten shot at!

"Why did you DO that?!" the Doctor agreed.

"No!" Angel quickly leapt forward and grabbed Ross's arm, halting him from firing another harpoon at the Dalek.

"We need a way down, the only way," Journey began.

"This is a DALEK," the Doctor rounded on her, "Not a machine. It's a perfect analogue of a living being, and you just hurt it. So what's going to happen now?"

"Oh god," Clara's eyes widened.

"What?" Gretchen turned to her, "What is it?"

Clara just faced the Doctor, "Antibodies?" she guessed.

He nodded, grim, reaching out to tug Angel over to him, "Dalek antibodies."

They looked up as a whirring noise sounded to see small, round objects zoom into view, hovering around them, moving to float around Ross.

"Nobody move," the Doctor warned, very still, "Any attempt to help him, or attack those things, will identify you as a secondary source of infection. Stay still…"

The orbs cracked open to reveal a large, robotic, blue eye that focused on Ross, surrounding him intently.

"But the Dalek wants us in here," Clara shook her head, "Why is it attacking?"

"You can't control your antibodies," Tailor shifted closer to her father.

"Ross…" Journey held up her hands, trying to draw Ross's attention, trying to keep him from firing the harpoon still in his hand and making it worse, "Stay calm. We're going to get you out of this."

"Can you?" Clara turned to the Time Lords.

The Doctor didn't even have a moment to reply when the antibodies were encased in a golden glow. He spun to Angel, his eye wide, "What are you doing?!"

Angel just smiled at him and looked back at the antibodies, her hand glowing with the soft power of the Vortex, before she lowered it, the antibodies falling gently to the ground with her movement. They watched, holding their breath as the blue eyes glazed over, the orbs slowly turning to stone.

"I think I've gotten better at that," Angel murmured, though there was a sadness in her voice.

She found herself remembering more of the first time the Vortex had taken her over, when she'd turned a massive amount of Daleks to stone. She had discovered, towards the end of the war on Christmas that, if she focused, she could manage it with one or two Daleks before it took too much out of her. She had hoped, with the antibodies being truly tiny things inside the Dalek, that she could do it here…and she was both relieved and sad that she could.

Sad, to remember that time in her life and what it had done, what she'd become to save the Doctor, what happened to Jack, but relieved that this time she had control of it.

"Mum, that was brilliant!" Tailor cheered, rushing to hug her mother tightly, beaming at her. THIS this was what she hoped she could become one day, a woman of peace, like her mother, able to use the power of the Vortex she knew was inside her to help save other people. Being able to witness it, having spent so long in Christmas, it was just wonderful.

"That was you?" Journey turned to Angel, still in shock. She'd fully expected one of her men to be attacked, to lose another one of her crew, just then.

"Are you alright, Ross?" Angel asked instead.

The man, though appearing quite shaken, nodded…and quickly set the harpoon down on the ground, not about to risk this happening again, "Thanks."

Angel gave him a nod, "We need to move though."

"What, why?" Gretchen frowned.

Angel looked at the Doctor, "You were right…it sensed me."

The Doctor's eyes widened and he looked around, frantic, a larger whirring noise sounding from a distance, "We need to move, now!"

"But where?" Clara looked around, "There's nowhere to go, we're inside it, they'll know wherever we run."

Angel grimaced, thinking about her vision and finally working out what the chunky liquid was, "There's one place…"

The Doctor spun to her again, "You can find it?"

She nodded grimly, taking his hand and leading them off, Tailor and Clara instantly hurrying after them as the soldiers jolted into action as they passed. They ran down along the ledge, hurrying down another corridor until they reached another sort of ledge with a hole in it.

"Here?" the Doctor confirmed.

Angel just nodded, though her face went a little green.

"Dad…that smell…" Tailor hesitated to say anything, her own face reflecting the disgust on her mother's.

"Organic refuse disposal," he stated, "We need to get in there."

"Why?" Clara glanced at the Time Ladies, starting to understand whatever it was down there she was NOT going to like it.

"Those antibodies won't give up until we're inside there," the Doctor glanced back, knowing they had only moments before the antibodies reached them with Angel's head start, "I'd rather go in alive than dead."

"Do you know where it goes?" Journey called, she and Gretchen lifting their guns to ready for a fight, hearing the whirring getting closer.

"Did you not just hear me call it an organic refuse disposal?"

"I really don't think you should tell them what that means, dad," Tailor remarked.

"Right, right, in, in, in!" the Doctor quickly gestured for them to jump into the hole, half pushing Angel to get in first, needing her to be safe, followed by Tailor then Clara.

"I can hold them off!" Gretchen shouted, sure.

"No, you really can't," the Doctor told her, reaching out to grab her arm and half shove her down the hole, "You too!"

Journey and Ross quickly followed suit, the Doctor diving down just as the antibodies reached the ledge, only to fly right over them as the crew flew down into the vat below.

"I'm going to need three showers after this," Tailor was saying as he landed with a splash, standing very still with her arms held out and above the slimy goo they'd fallen into.

"What is this stuff?" Clara pinched her nose, not wanting to smell it anymore.

"Organic refuse," Angel repeated with a grimace, looking for all the world as though she were about to be very, very sick.

The Doctor made his way over to her through the goo, trying to figure out how to comfort her when he too was covered in the slime and would just make it all the worse.

"And that is?!" Ross huffed, holding his gun above his head to protect it.

"People."

The humans froze completely in their movements, staring at her.

"The Daleks need protein," the Doctor explained, though his focus was on Angel, she really did not look well, "Occasionally, they harvest from their victims. This is a feeding tube."

Angel just looked down at it, her eyes sorrowful, her voice full of heartbreak, "There are so many people…" she breathed, lowering her hand to gently rest three fingers onto the top layer, "Everything, all things, must die…but this…this is no way to go."

"It isn't," the Doctor agreed, "But it's saved our lives," he looked at the humans, "Everything in here is dead, and do you know why that's good?"

"Like she said, there is nothing good about that," Journey stated.

Tailor grimaced at the thought her father was trying to make clear, "If nothing is alive here, the antibodies won't think to look here for living things."

The Doctor pointed at her, "This is the weakest spot in the Dalek's internal security. Nobody guards the dead."

Angel winced at that…

'…guard the graveyards…'

…a metal hand shot out of a patch of grass beneath a tombstone…

'…don't cremate me…'

Angel shook her head fiercely at that, feeling tears in her eyes, "No one guards the graveyards."

"Exactly, mortuaries and larders, always the easiest to break out of. Oh, I've lived a life," he sighed and began to look around, "Tell Uncle Stupid that we're in."

"My love?" Angel called, drawing his attention over to where she was standing near a rather large bolt surrounded by a screen on the wall.

"A bolt hole!" he cheered, making his way towards her through the muck and puling the sonic out, both of them hesitant to use the Vortex again. If such a small burst had drawn that many antibodies…there would be no way to hide down there regardless of the 'safety net' if she used it now. He quickly got to work flashing the bolt, working on unscrewing it.

"He'll get us out of here," they heard Clara reassure the other humans, "The difficult part is not killing him before he can."

"Imagine having holiday dinners with him," Tailor added, far more jokingly…though she honestly wasn't sure how the family would react to this new Doctor, they'd all gotten reasonably comfortable and familiar with his last self, and this one was…very different.

"Bolt hole," the Doctor continued as though they hadn't said anything, "Actually, a hole for a bolt. Does nobody get that?"

"Also, there's the puns," Clara continued.

"Alright, you lot, come on," the Doctor called, getting the bolt off, the screen shifting away automatically with it, revealing a sort of tunnel behind it. He turned to Angel and moved to help her climb in first. He would have rather one of the humans with their guns lead the way, encounter any problems first…but the decontamination tubes would be tricky and if there was anyone he trusted to be able to guide them through it without running into said trouble, it would be Angel. Also...he wanted her out of there sooner than later given how ill he could feel the sheer smell was making her, "Careful," he told her, "Decontamination tubes are hot. Tailor, you next!"

"Rescue One to Mission Control," Journey called into her comm. as she made her way across the slime after her crew.

"This is Blue, Rescue One," her uncle responded, "Report."

"The Dalek has an internal defense mechanism. We nearly lost Ross."

"To confirm, Ross is still with you?"

"Yes, sir," Ross answered.

"What kind of defense mechanism?" Morgan returned to the main concern, "That thing knows you're in there to help it."

"Yeah, well, who knows?" Journey muttered, watching as Ross was directed into the tunnel after Gretchen who had followed Clara, "It's a Dalek. We're going to continue the mission."

"And you, gun girl," the Doctor gestured for her to hurry it up. She rolled her eyes but climbed in, the Doctor right behind.

~8~

The Doctor gave Angel and Tailor a brief hug as he hopped out of the decontamination tube after the group, happy to see they'd all made it out safely though he expected as much with Angel leading the way. He opened his mouth to let them know that they'd reached the Power Unit of the Dalek, when a faint crackling noise sounded.

"What's that noise?" he looked over at the soldiers, "Are you wearing a Geiger counter?"

Gretchen stepped forward and pulled the device from her pocket, "Standard battle equipment."

"But that's just low level radiation," Ross added.

The Doctor turned carefully, running the counter over the large printed circuit boards stationed everywhere, "But stronger down here, for some reason…" he frowned, concentrating when he reached an area that made the counter go mad, "I've got it. I know what's wrong with Rusty."

"Ok…" Clara frowned, "That's good. Is that good?"

"Well, you know how I said this was the most dangerous place in the universe? I was wrong. It's way more dangerous than that."

"Because of the radiation?" Tailor guessed, stepping up beside her father, unafraid of the radiation that was clearly leaking out liberally from somewhere. Time Lords were made stronger than that, they could handle this level of radiation easily.

Angel glanced around, her arms crossed, a frown on her face as she glanced at the Doctor and Tailor examining the readings.

"Colonel, we have radiation indicators red-lining in here," Journey called into the comm., "Could be that the Dalek is more badly damaged than we thought."

"Copy that," her uncle replied.

"Old Rusty here is suffering a trionic radiation leak," the Doctor stated, "It's poisoning the Dalek…"

"And the rest of you," Tailor realized, looking back at the humans in worry.

"Just as well we're here."

"Really?" Journey scoffed, "Perhaps we should get out while we can. Why should we trust a Dalek? Why would it change?"

The Doctor nodded at that, "Good question. Rusty? What changed you?"

There was a rumbling around them as Rusty answered, "I saw beauty."

The Doctor snorted at that, "You changed long before you saw my Mate."

Angel had to shake her head at his words, "What was it you saw, Rusty?" she had a feeling that it was important.

"In the silence and the cold, I saw worlds burning," Rusty answered.

"That's not beauty, that's destruction," Journey frowned.

"I saw more. The birth of a star."

Tailor shook her head, confused, "Stars are born every day. You must have seen millions of them."

"Daleks have destroyed a million stars," Rusty began.

"Oh, millions and millions," the Doctor agreed, "Trust me, I keep count."

"And yet, new stars are born. Resistance is futile."

"Resistance to what?" Clara called.

"Life returns. Life prevails. Resistance is futile."

The Doctor sighed at that, "So you saw a star being born, and you learned something. Oh, Dalek, do not be lying to me. Come on."

Angel made her way over to the Doctor as he followed the counter to the source of the radiation, "Doctor…if the radiation poisoning is what's making the Dalek 'good'…"

He nodded, understanding her concern, "We can't be sure it is, though," he reasoned.

And it was true, if Rusty really had changed because of the STAR, then the radiation would only be poisoning him more, killing him, making him useless to use against the Daleks. But…then again, if it WAS the radiation that had gotten Rusty to turn, fixing him up could just reset him to his Dalek programming.

"Can you see which it is?" he looked at Angel.

Angel looked around, "I feel like the star IS important…" was all she could offer, feeling frustrated with herself that she couldn't get a clearer picture out of it. It was like every time she turned her mind to the future, tried to force a vision or prompt one to come, it was blocked by the sense that she already had her answer, she already knew…

"Then we fix the leak," the Doctor remarked, "If he changes, we stop him. Better a dead Dalek than a good Dalek."

Angel reached out to take his hand, sensing his thoughts going down a darker path. He looked at her again with a gentle smile and squeezed her hand back.

"Heading for the Trionic power cells, Colonel," Journey reported to her uncle.

"Radiation approxing two hundred Rads," he warned back over the comms., "Danger levels."

They passed through a doorway and into a room filled with smoke and a flickering yellow light above them, cables all around with tubing connected to it.

"We're at the heart of the Dalek," the Doctor shouted, a hissing noise growing louder as they ventured in.

"Geiger counter's off the scale!" Journey called.

"This thing is about to blow!" Ross agreed.

"Good," the Doctor led them on.

"How is that good?" Journey shouted.

"Well, I like a bit of pressure. Rusty, can you hear me?"

"Doctor?" Rusty's rumbling voice sounded as the Doctor pushed past some tubing, following the sound of the hissing.

"Rusty, we've found the damage," he called to the Dalek, grimacing as he saw a crack in one of the power cells, bleeding out energy and an angry orange light. He pulled the sonic out and quickly began to try and seal it back up. Angel glanced around and tugged Tailor closer to her, keeping her daughter close and Clara within eyesight as he worked, "I'm sealing up the breach in your power cell. No more radiation poisoning. Good as new," he patted the power cell, the crack healed up, "There. Job done."

Clara frowned, "That's it? Just like that?"

"That was rather anti-climactic," Tailor sighed with a small huff.

"An anti-climax once in a while is good for my hearts," the Doctor joked.

"Rusty?" Angel called out, the woman sounding nervous, "How are you? Feeling ok?"

The Doctor's smile began to fall as he looked at her, at the concern in her eyes, "Rusty? Rusty!"

"The malfunction is corrected," the Dalek stated.

Journey glanced around, even the humans able to tell there was something different in Rusty's metallic voice, "What's happened?"

The Doctor looked up as the lights began to flicker on, "Not entirely sure…"

"It's like it's waking up…"

"Rusty?" Angel tried again, "What's wrong?"

"The malfunction is corrected," was all the Dalek repeated, "All systems are functioning. Weapons charged."

With two words the Time Lords' expressions changed to ones of horror, "Oh no…no, no, no!" the Doctor breathed.

"Dad…" Tailor looked at him, frantic.

"Exterminate!" the Dalek cried, moving suddenly and throwing them about within, "Exterminate!"

"No, no, no!" the Doctor yelled, struggling to get his bearings, but they could hear it over Journey's comm. the sounds of an alarm going off inside the Aristotle, men and women screaming.

"Exterminate. Exterminate!"

Chapter Text

Rusty jerked to the side, throwing the small group everywhere with the motion. They could still hear it from within, "The Daleks will be victorious The rebels will be exterminated!"

"Colonel!?" Journey was shouting into her comm., desperate to hear from her uncle, "What's happening out there?"

But there was only the sounds of screaming, before static cut in.

~8~

Morgan and his men shot at Rusty as the Dalek advanced, shouting, "Exterminate. Exterminate. Exterminate. Exterminate. Exterminate. Exterminate!"

Morgan ducked back as two soldiers were struck by the Dalek laser, dropping dead, followed by another, they were out matched. "Pull back," he ordered, "Pull back."

Rusty didn't bother to follow them, moving instead to a communications console and pressing his plunger to it, "Dalek fleet. Communications open!"

"The rebel ship has been identified!" another Dalek responded to his call.

"Prepare 14 Daleks," a second ordered.

~8~

"What's happened?" Clara gasped as she pushed herself up, hurrying over to help Angel stand while the Doctor steadied Tailor.

"Exactly what we feared," the Doctor rubbed his head, "Daleks don't turn good. It was just radiation affecting its brain chemistry, nothing more than that. No miracle."

"Let me get this straight," Journey shoved her way over to them, "We had a good Dalek, and we made it bad again? That's all we've done?"

"There was never a good Dalek," Tailor told her, "Rusty was broken, and when we fixed him…this is normal for Daleks."

Angel looked up at where the crack had been, unable to shake the feeling that that was wrong despite the evidence pointing to the contrary.

"Weren't you lot supposed to be helping us?!" Ross demanded, steadying Gretchen.

"I gave it a shot," the Doctor huffed, "It didn't work out. It was a Dalek, what did you expect?"

"No more talking," Journey warned him, "You are done! Ok, new objective. We are taking this Dalek down."

"Can't we just…remake the crack?" Tailor turned to her parents, "If we can just reradiate the Dalek, it'll turn good again and stop attacking."

"In order to have it act fast enough, we'd have to crack that thing open all the way up," the Doctor shook his head, "That amount of radiation will kill all of us."

And with that, Tailor knew her father was never, ever going to do it. Not just because of the humans, but her and her mother. He'd sooner try to think of a way to destroy the Dalek from within or get them out to deal with it on the outside than risk their lives.

"I could teleport us out…" Angel tried to offer.

But the Doctor shook his head, "This small? There'd be no way to turn us back."

Well, it wasn't completely true, they could use the TARDIS, shrink it down and then resize everyone. But just getting there, getting the controls working, and then hoping the humans resized normally after experiencing the scaler they'd used, it was a far stretch. Time Lords could bounce back but humans were far more fragile.

~8~

Rusty was back on its warpath through the ship, shouting, "Exterminate!" and firing at any human it came across.

"Secure the door!" Morgan ordered his men, desperate to keep the Dalek out. He ran to a nearby comm., "Wasp fighters to action stations. Wasp fighters to action stations!"

"The security systems have been hacked," a soldier reported, "We don't have access to the Wasps."

Morgan could only look back over his shoulder in horror, "Then God save us all."

~8~

"Come on," Journey turned to her comrades, tossing them small items from her pack, "We need to place these charges for maximum effect. I'm going to scan the rest of the architecture for weaknesses."

"Ok, one question," Clara began, trying to work out something that was bothering her.

"No time," Gretchen called back.

"Why did we come here today?" Clara turned to the Doctor, not really having been speaking to the other humans, "What was the point? You thought there was actually a good Dalek, you hoped there could be or you would have never considered taking your Mate and Daughter here, Doctor. Why? What difference would one good Dalek make?"

The Doctor sighed, "All the difference in the universe, but it's impossible."

"Journey!" Morgan's voice cried through her comm., drawing their attention over to the woman, "What the hell's happening? That thing's set the Daleks on us. And it's locked us out of our defenses. Journey, you're the Aristotle's only hope. I need you to destroy that Dalek."

"The rebels will be exterminated!" Rusty roared around them, making the situation seem even more dire.

"Whatever it takes," Morgan ordered.

"Understood, Uncle," Journey responded.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me too."

Clara shook her head as Journey gave them a look and went back to placing the bombs, she knew it looked bad, she knew it seemed impossible, all of it, but all hope was not lost, not if she had anything to say about it. She rounded on the Time Lords, "If there's one thing I've learned travelling with you lot, it's that something's only impossible when you're not together," Clara told them, "But between all of you, impossible happens all the time. You say it's impossible to have a good Dalek? Make it possible."

The Doctor couldn't help but smile at her passionate words, her firm belief in them, "Clara Oswald, we should pay you more."

Clara snorted, "You couldn't afford me."

"Can we negotiate hugs as payment?" Tailor beamed, rushing to hug her aunt, "Because I've got loads. That was brilliant, Aunt Clara!"

The Doctor glanced at Angel, the woman smiling softly, "What do you think? Too impossible?"

Angel looked up at him, "Well, if ever there was a time to use my good luck charmness, I think that would be today."

He laughed heartily at that, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before turning to Journey and her crew, "Whatever you're going to do, don't do it. This Dalek must not be destroyed. We can do better."

"You're completely mental!" Ross shouted, not about to stop.

"No, I'm inside a Dalek. I'm standing where I've never been. We cannot waste this chance. It won't come again."

"What chance?" Journey scoffed, stomping over to him, "I have my orders."

"Soldiers take orders."

"And I'm a soldier."

"No," Angel shook her head and stepped up beside the Doctor, "You're Journey Blue."

"A Dalek is a better soldier than you will ever be," the Doctor added, "You can't win this way."

Journey glared at them before holding up a grenade, the one that would set off the rest, ready to pull the pin…only for her shaking hand to drop back down, the pin still intact. Soldiers fought to end the wars, to keep people safe, if they were actually proposing a way to change a Dalek, to make it 'good', then it was worth trying. It could truly turn the tide of this war, of this battle, if they could find a way to get a Dalek to change without needing to get inside one and irradiate it. And, if they failed, she could still blow the thing to pieces and the Universe would be down at least one Dalek.

"So what do we do?" Journey whispered.

"Ma'am!?" Ross shouted, startled that she had aborted that mission.

"I said!" Journey glared at him, telling him to stand down, before she focused on the Time Lords once more, "What do we do?"

"Something better," the Doctor smiled.

~8~

Aboard the Dalek saucer, a massive amount of Daleks gathered, "Prepare to board the rebel ship!" one gave the command, "We must find our comrade Dalek. Spare no humans. Exterminate them all."

"Exterminate!" the others chanted, as they brought the saucer alongside the Aristotle, "Exterminate. Exterminate!"

~8~

The Doctor reached out to help Angel up onto a recess near the Dalek's eye stalk, a few levels below it, the two turning to pull Tailor up after them and assist the rest of the humans to join them. It would have been easier and faster to teleport them there, but with how the Dalek had reacted to Angel using the Vortex last time, it would be a better thing to hold off on it as long as possible.

"The Dalek isn't just some angry blob in a Dalekanium tank," the Doctor explained to the humans as they caught their breath, "If it was, the radiation would have turned it into a raging lunatic."

"…it IS a raging lunatic," Ross gave him a shake of his head for that, as though anyone could say it WASN'T.

"It's a Dalek," Journey agreed.

"But for a moment, it wasn't," the Doctor reminded them, "The radiation allowed it to expand its consciousness, to consider things beyond its natural terms of reference."

"And when it did, it became 'good,'" Tailor nodded.

The Doctor pointed at her with a snap of his finger, "That means a good Dalek IS possible."

"But now it's back to how it was," Journey argued.

"Maybe," Angel remarked, "But that star? Seeing it born? How it felt when it did? It's still there. It can still feel it," SHE could still feel it, just buried and lost, "We just have to give it the right nudge."

Journey looked around as the dark and gloom around them, "Yeah, I'm not really seeing that."

"Not here.," the Doctor shook his head, pointing upwards, "There."

"That cortex vault thing?" Gretchen squinted.

"You said that was the evil engineering?" Clara reminded the Doctor.

"It's more than that though," Tailor explained, "It's where the Dalek stores every memory."

"Some suppressed," the Doctor agreed, "But all still intact. We need to show the Dalek that star being born again. Recreate that moment. You need to get up there, find that moment and reawaken it."

"Who? Me?" Clara pointed at herself, not sure exactly which 'you' the Doctor meant.

"Yes, you, good idea."

"How?"

"Haven't the foggiest. Do a clever thing. And then once you've done it, the Dalek will be suggestible to new ideas. It will be open again. And I will show it something that will change its mind forever."

"What?" Journey scoffed at that.

"Not a clue."

~8~

The docking back of the Aristotle shook with the force of the Dalek intrusion.

"Docking initiated!" one reported, moments before the doors were blown open, "Pressures equalized. Boarding corp, begin attack."

"Advance," another gave the command, "Exterminate the humans!"

"Seek, locate, destroy!" the rest chanted, moving into the base, "Surrender is not accepted!"

~8~

"This is mad!" Ross shouted, looking between Journey and the Doctor, she couldn't honestly be considering this, "There is no way that we can get back up there in time."

"Yes, there is," Gretchen stepped forward with her own standard issue harpoon in hand.

But Journey rushed forward to shove her arm down, "No, Gretchen. It'll bring the antibodies back down on us."

Gretchen looked at Clara, trusting the human more than the other aliens, "Tell me the truth. Is he mad, or is he right? I've come this far. Probably going to die anyway. Wouldn't mind something to do for the rest of my life. Is he mad, or is he right?"

"Hand on my heart?" Clara placed hers over her chest, "Most days he's both."

"One question, then," Gretchen turned to the Time Lords, "Is this worth it?"

"If I can turn one Dalek," the Doctor stated, "I can turn them all. I can save the future."

"And that, is not worth the life of even one human," Angel stepped over to the girl, "Not if I can help it."

"Angel…" Clara began, her eyes wide, not needing to be psychic to know what Angel was about to do.

But she was too late, she, Journey, Ross, and Gretchen disappeared in a flash of gold, one which the Doctor could see reappearing above them on another ledge.

"Guardian Angel of the Universe, you are," the Doctor muttered, reaching out to take Angel's hand, "But now we need to run!"

He quickly turned, his hand on the small of Tailor's back to push her onwards, the trio running quickly down the tunnels, hearing the antibodies approaching where they'd been standing. Angel sent out a spark or two of the Vortex to keep them following her and not Clara.

The Doctor led them to a panel on the wall, quickly sonicing it to open and pulled the girls through, slamming it back shut just as the antibodies flew past, missing them with their scanners by a hair.

"Dad…" Tailor called behind him.

He turned slowly, half expecting them to have run into a wall of antibodies, only to see the organic portion of the Dalek skin. He looked at his girls cautiously, before stepping closer, the two Time Ladies following his lead across a metal bar till they stood before the Dalek's real eye.

~8~

"Fire!" Morgan commanded his men, opening shots on the Daleks that had swarmed into the base.

"Exterminate!" they shouted, "Advance. Seek, locate, destroy. Seek, locate, destroy. Exterminate!"

One soldier managed to blow up a Dalek, but was quickly fired upon by the others.

"Advance. Seek, locate. Exterminate. Exterminate!"

~8~

"Well, Rusty, here we are," the Doctor commented, "Eye to eye."

"To eye to eye," Tailor murmured beside him.

"You cannot save the humans," Rusty spoke, "They will be exterminated. I shall join the Dalek units in the final attack."

~8~

"What the hell was that?!" Journey gasped as they suddenly appeared on the cranial ledge, right next to the massive wall of lights the Time Lords had pointed out when they first entered the Dalek.

"Angel," Clara answered quickly, already heading for the wall to examine it, "You can thank her later."

"She controls that yellow light?" Gretchen followed, they'd all seen it when Ross had been trapped by the anitbodies, but they hadn't known the girl had been doing it.

"The Vortex, yes, now if we could focus…"

Journey shook her head, knowing they may not have much time before the antibodies decided to check on them, "So what do we do?"

"A clever thing, quickly," Clara replied, "Think, think, think, think, think…" she looked at the wall of light closely, some of her memory of the Alaska coming back to her, the engineering, the wiring, lights going out in certain sectors…and then she spotted it, a handful of lights blacked out, "Some of the lights are out!"

"The Dalek sustained damage," Ross reminded her.

"But the wall's not damaged," Clara pointed out, "Look at the others."

"So?" Journey shook her head.

"So, they said this was a memory bank and some of the memories were suppressed. What if…what if the dark spots are hidden memories? What if one of those is the Dalek seeing a star?"

"Seriously?"

"Well it's either that or the bulbs need changing. And I know enough about Daleks to know there's no way to do that, so it can't be bulbs…ah ha!" she grinned as she spotted a panel close by. She knelt before it and started to pull it off the wall, "Watch out for antibodies. Let's see if there's an on switch."

The humans stood there, Gretchen and Ross with their guns raised and ready, pointed at the only two entrances to the section, while Journey kept hers held tight, her gaze fixed on the banks as Clara disappeared behind them.

~8~

"I saved your life, Rusty," the Doctor told the Dalek, "Now I'm going to go one better. I'm going to save your soul."

"Daleks do not have souls," it responded.

"Oh, no?" the Doctor didn't sound remotely shocked, "Imagine if you did. What then, Rusty? What would happen then?"

~8~

Clara grunted as she managed to crawl her way through the backside of the vault, it was a mess of thick tubing with the smallest flashes of light travelling through them. She had to scuttle through on her elbows, but there was enough light from the illuminated memories for her to see.

"I'm in the cortex!" she shouted out to the others, only to slam her back into one of the panels when there was a surge of energy startling her.

~8~

"Dad!" Tailor shouted, seeing a light travel down a set of tubing before something of a projection began to play on a screen in front of Rusty's eye.

"Your memories," the Doctor realized, the three of them watching sadly as memories of dying soldiers replayed, "We're about to give some back to you."

~8~

"Are you ok?" Journey called through the walls, "Clara?"

Clara gasped as she rolled back onto the tubing, "Yeah. I think there was some sort of energy charge."

"You got the first lights on!"

"Of course, it's a brain. Brains work with electrical pathways linking up memories. It's working! It's working, we're turning the memories back on!"

More determined than ever, Clara began to crawl her way through the tubing.

~8~

Angel watched the Doctor closely as he began to use the sonic to cut through some of the tubing, Tailor crouched beside him to help, ever the curious girl.

"See, all those years ago, when I began I was just running," the Doctor was explaining to Rusty, "I called myself the Doctor, but it was just a name. And then I went to Skaro. And then I met you lot and I understood who I was. The Doctor was not the Daleks."

~8~

Morgan looked around at the chaos surrounding his men, the Daleks advancing with cries of 'Exterminate!'

"Fall back!" he ordered, "Follow me. Fall back!"

But the Daleks wouldn't be stopped, following after, "Exterminate. Exterminate. Exterminate!"

~8~

"We've got incoming!" Gretchen warned, seeing the antibodies apparently finished examining the lower level of the Dalek and working their way up towards them.

~8~

"Exterminate!" the Daleks continued to chant, firing at soldier after soldier, closing in on the humans from nearly every corridor, "Exterminate."

"Fall back!" was all Morgan could call as he led his men behind a large bulkhead door, "Fall back."

The humans struggled to close it, working fast to seal themselves away from the cries of, "Exterminate. Exterminate."

~8~

Clara gasped as she heard the sounds of gunfire on the other side of the wall, Journey calling out, "Hurry up!"

"Show me a star, Rusty," Clara pleaded, slamming her hand onto one of the dark panels, lighting it up and hoping it was the right one.

~8~

Angel gasped as the scene changed with another inflow of light from the tubes, this time the Daleks, flying through space, attacking the Valiant, she could recognize that from the time the Daleks had stolen the Earth.

"Oh, look," the Doctor glanced over at her gasp, "It's your memories again. It's like somebody's mucking about up there. Memories, all those memories. Do you remember the star you saw being born?"

~8~

Clara winced, getting a bit tangled, before she crawled closer to the last panel, the only dark one she could see. It HAD to be the right one, "Almost done. One more to go!"

"Hurry up, Clara!" Journey was yelling from the other side of the wall, "Hurry up!"

Clara slammed her fist on the panel, illuminating it and held her breath…

"Clara, you did it!" Journey cheered, "It's rebooting! The antibodies have reset!"

Clara let out a breath of relief and thumped her forehead onto her arms, just taking a moment to breathe.

~8~

"The star…" Angel breathed, watching as that very memory began to play on the projection, the star being born in the middle of the universe.

"I…" Rusty almost sounded like he was gasping in awe, "I remember…"

Angel turned around to face the Dalek, "Do you remember how you felt, Rusty? When you saw that star being born? How beautiful it was? The rebirth that came with it? New life from old life…"

"No…"

The Doctor slowly stood from where he'd crouched down, holding two of the tubing ends in his hand, "And you realized the truth about the Daleks."

Tailor glanced over at another projection, just below the one of the star, what Rusty was currently seeing with his eyestalk, the alien was spinning around within an empty hall of the Aristotle.

"Truth?" Rusty cried out, "What is the truth?"

"Let me show you the truth. I've opened your mind and now I'm coming in…"

"No," a voice that wasn't Rusty's spoke.

~8~

Morgan could only stare in horror as the Daleks began to burn their way through the bulkhead doors. It would only be a matter of time before their enemy got in.

"That door is never going to hold," he warned his fellow soldiers, "But I'm damned if I'm going to make it easy for them!"

He lifted his gun, ready to fire, the men following suit…

~8~

"What?" the Doctor turned to Tailor for her objection.

Tailor just gave him a sad look, "Dad…you HATE Daleks, more than anything. It's not a secret to anyone."

"Not quite true," he remarked dryly.

Angel couldn't help but look down at that, knowing that the one thing…one person…the Doctor truly hated more than anyone else was River Song.

Tailor shrugged the remark away and stepped closer, taking one of the tubing ends from his hand, "If you go in there…the Dalek will see everything, see all of that," she shook her head, "If we want to show it anything, it's love and hope."

The Doctor looked at his daughter a moment, before he followed where her gaze had drifted…to Angel.

He did not like that thought, not at all, he would never ever want to subject his Mate to splice her mind to that of a Dalek, to let it see into her memories, to have to let her mind touch its. It was a burden he would rather bear a thousand times over.

"The woman of peace," Angel caught on to what Tailor was implying, her daughter already more clever than she was herself. She merely held out a hand and Tailor gave her the one end of the tube. She shifted it to her other hand and looked at the Doctor, "If ever we have to turn Cybermen good, I'll leave that to you, my love."

He shook his head at that, both from knowing that, even given her history with the species, Angel could probably no more muster up enough hate for anything than a thirsty person could not drink water, but…not wanting her to do this, truly not wanting her to have to do this.

"I'll be alright," she murmured, stepping closer to him.

"You see that?"

She just smiled at him, "No, but I believe that," she gently took the other half of the tubing from him, "I've got you and Tailor watching over me, after all."

She gave him a wink as she stepped back, looking at Rusty's eye before taking a deep breath and quickly pressing the ends of the tubing to her temples.

Tailor had to run to her father's side to hold him back as Angel fell to her knees with a scream of pain, the energy from the tubing surging through her. But she would be fine, she would be, she was the Angel, her mother, the strongest woman in the Universe, she HAD to be fine…

Angel took another deep breath, her eyes scrunched closed as she tried to keep the Vortex from lashing out at the pain she was feeling, "I can see you, Rusty…can you see me?"

"I see your mind…" the Dalek breathed, "I see your universe…"

The Doctor and Tailor looked over to see images of themselves appearing quickly there, followed by memories of their human family during one of the holidays, the TARDIS, flying through space…till the literal universe was there for them to see in all its glory.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Angel asked, starting to smile now.

"I see beauty…I see endless, divine perfection…"

Tailor let out a little breath, feeling tears fill her eyes as the memory shifted not to the star being born…but to HER birth. She could see her mother, her last incarnation cradling her, her father's last incarnation pulling them both into his arms as they just stared down at her…

"Mum," Tailor whispered, touched.

The Doctor just moved his arm around her, holding her tighter to him.

"That's me," Angel murmured, "That's what I call perfection in my arms, but what about you Rusty?" the image changed to the star once more, only this time there were more, stars burning and fading, supernovaing, and being born again, "Remember this moment?" the image flickered to his star, "Remember it, feel it right now…"

Rusty gasped, "I see into your soul, Angel of the Universe," it stated, and Angel winced slightly, feeling the Dalek almost rifling through her mind and memories, "I see beauty. I see divinity. I see…love…"

The Doctor smiled when the images that had been flickering through, Tailor, their family, the TARDIS, and rested on him. He watched as he and Angel hugged, kissed, smiled at each other, held each other, and so many other precious and treasured memories through their different incarnations.

"Yes," Angel smiled again, "It's easier to love than hate, Rusty. Love something, and hold onto that, love makes us stronger, it makes us smarter. I would do anything to protect the ones I love."

The Doctor and Tailor watched as the images turned to Angel and the Vortex, to what she was able to do with it, to the people she had used it to protect, some them, some family, some just strangers who needed help, to life that needed protecting...some even protecting from the Daleks themselves.

"That star, Rusty…" Angel repeated, "It was beautiful and good…"

"Yes," it answered.

"Don't you want to protect it?"

"The Universe must be protected!" the Dalek shouted, "Protect it! Protect it!"

Angel gasped as she felt a surge go through her from the tubing, as though she were being pushed out of Rusty's mind and threw them away. The Doctor and Tailor were at her side in an instant.

"Angel, Angel, are you ok?" the Doctor quickly took her face in his hands, searching her eyes and mind for any pain.

"I'm alright," she breathed, closing her eyes a moment, her one hand reaching up to grasp around his wrist, her other hand held by Tailor.

"Daleks must be destroyed!" Rusty began to chant.

"I think that's our cue to leave," Tailor remarked.

The Doctor nodded, helping Angel up as the three of them hurried back the way they came.

~8~

Rusty glided through the Aristotle, "Daleks must be exterminated. Daleks must be exterminated!" He approached the other Daleks as they gathered before a door, working to melt through it.

His scanners could pick up the sounds of humans beyond the doorway, one of them saying, "God save us all."

Life was on the other side of that door, it had to be protected.

"Daleks must be exterminated!" Rusty cried, drawing the attention of the other Daleks, "Exterminate!"

Immediately Rusty began to fire on the Dalek horde, taking out as many as possible, all the other Daleks too confused as to why they were being attacked by one of their own to do much against him.

"Under attack from a Dalek!" one of them reported, before Rusty aimed and fired.

Rusty's head turned this way and that, looking for more targets, but the ones on the ship were destroyed, "The Daleks are exterminated!"

~8~

Journey rushed ahead of the Time Lords and her comrades when they spotted Morgan making his way out of a closed off area, with a small team behind him. They'd managed to get back to the nanoscaler and resize to normal, the Doctor sonicing it to expel itself from the eyestalk. The Doctor didn't even want to think about the carnage they would have passed trying to find Rusty had the scaler not deposited them just in the next hall. He didn't want his girls to have to see that.

"Journey!" Morgan gasped, seeing his niece alive, along with the two other soldiers at her side.

"Uncle Morgan," she breathed, rushing to hug him, "Kai?"

"Safe," he assured her, "Infirmary wing was sealed off, the Daleks were more focused on the fighting soldiers."

"Thank god," she murmured, if she'd lost her brother after all of this, she was likely to kill Rusty herself, regardless of how he'd turned in the end.

"I have transmitted a retreat signal," Rusty told them, the only Dalek left standing, "The Daleks will believe the humans have initiated the ship's self-destruct."

"What about you, Rusty?" Clara asked.

"I must go with them."

"Of course you must," the Doctor murmured, "You've unfinished work, haven't you?"

Rusty's eyestalk turned to him, "Victory is yours, but it does not please you."

The Doctor just sighed, "You slaughtered the rest of the Daleks, I can't decide if that's a Dalek being a Dalek, or if you're actually a good Dalek now."

"The Universe is teeming with life," the Dalek stated, "It must be protected. Daleks will try to destroy the Universe."

"That's probably as close to a good Dalek as we'll ever get," Tailor remarked.

Rusty looked at her, "I am not a good Dalek," it stated…before turning to Angel, "You are a good Dalek."

"My Mate is nothing like a Dalek!" the Doctor nearly hissed at the pepperpot, looking like he wanted to use his sonic to set off Rusty's own self-destruct sequence.

"My love," Angel reached out to rest a hand on his arm, "I think he meant 'good Dalek' as in, I protect the Universe."

The Doctor looked at her, a little startled at that, and back to Rusty who didn't deny her claim. In a strange sort of way…it did make sense, in this context at least. He'd been called a good Dalek in the past, by actual evil Daleks who saw his actions as something a Dalek would do per normal. The Daleks, as they were, were terrible, evil, horrible creatures, they were BAD. They destroyed life, they infected the universe, and they were deemed bad by every species. To Rusty though, in this situation, a GOOD Dalek, that would be the opposite, they would protect life, they would guard the universe and stop the destruction. A good Dalek.

He was never, ever, EVER going to call his Mate a Dalek, whether she was good by Rusty's definition, but…he at least was appeased to know Rusty wasn't trying to insult her or call her a monster.

He sighed, watching as Rusty turned to go, "Till the next time," he called, because even for as much of a good luck charm as Angel was, no amount of luck in the universe would mean this was the last time they'd deal with Daleks. He trusted Rusty would eliminate the ones still lurking about in this area of space, but that didn't mean he wanted to stick around any longer than he needed to.

"Come on," Tailor moved to her father's side, linking her arm through his, "I think we need to look up some footage of stars being born, for next time."

The Doctor let out a small laugh and turned to go with his daughter, Angel and Clara following behind.

Journey watched them go before she shook her head and hurried after them, "Oi!" she called as she caught up to them just outside the TARDIS, "What was that, leaving without saying goodbye? I wanted..."

"Oh and what's this now?" the Doctor groaned, his patience and his 'not-rudeness' running out as yet another soldier with a gun ran after them, "No," he cut off whatever Journey was about to say, "You can't come with us. You're probably nice. Underneath it all, probably kind too, and brave. But you're a soldier, with a gun, and I won't have either around my Mate or Daughter, ok, so no. You can't…"

"Wasn't going to ask that, thanks," Journey cut in with an unimpressed look at how he was assuming things about her, "I've got my brother, he's going to need someone to look after him, and my uncle, and everyone else. I'm not gonna just leave them for a weird little box, thank you very much."

"Oh."

Journey shook her head, "I just wanted to say…thank you."

Angel smiled, "You're very welcome."

Journey gave them a salute.

"Oh don't salute!" the Doctor huffed at that.

Tailor just laughed and lightly pushed her father into the TARDIS, Clara and Angel following after.

~8~

Clara dashed up to the console with a smile on her face, finally having been able to change out of her 'organic refuse' soaked clothing and into something new and fresh. Angel had insisted they all freshen up, claiming she could still smell the refuse and, now that they weren't running for their lives, the smell was starting to make her quite sick. The Time Lords were already at the console, the Doctor leaning on it, resting his chin on his hand, with a smile on his face as he listened to Tailor eagerly regaling the TARDIS and MK9 with the story of their latest adventure. Angel was nearer the monitor, commenting here and there, but piloting the box while they waited for her.

"How do I look?" Clara called, crouching down to tie her shoe quickly.

"Sort of short and round-ish, but with a good personality, which is the main thing," the Doctor commented distractedly.

Clara rolled her eyes as she stood, "I meant my clothes. I just changed."

"Oh, good for you, still making an effort," the Doctor remarked.

Angel shook her head fondly at the Doctor, leaning over to tell Clara, "You look lovely."

"You're beautiful, Aunt Clara," Tailor agreed, "Whoever had you smiling before is going to be beaming now."

Clara blushed at that, when there was a gentle thump of the TARDIS landing.

"Right," the Doctor tapped the console and moved to Angel's side to see the coordinates, "You're back in your cupboard, thirty seconds after you left."

Clara nodded and headed for the door, pausing to look back at them, "When will I see you again?"

"Oh, soon, I expect," the Doctor shrugged, "Or later. One of those."

"10 days, 12 hours, 39 minutes," Angel 'guessed' with a wink, making Clara laugh.

The girl headed for the door once more, pausing in the doorway to turn to the Doctor, "The answer is still I don't know."

"What?" the Doctor glanced back at her.

"You asked me if you're a good man and I said I didn't know, I still don't, it's too soon to tell but…I think you try to be and I think that's probably the point."

The Doctor smiled, reassured, "I think you're probably an amazing teacher."

"I think I'd better be."

"Can I sit in on one of your classes one day, Aunt Clara?" Tailor called, stopping Clara from leaving again.

Clara just beamed, "I'd love that," she responded before stepping out of the TARDIS. She waited till the box faded away before she stepped back into the hall of the school, only to nearly run into Danny Pink.

"Ah, hey," he greeted.

"Hey, Danny."

"Have you changed your clothes?" he looked her up and down.

Clara blinked, startled that he'd noticed, "Yes. Yes, I...I have. Well noticed."

"Ok, good."

"Yes, good," she cleared her throat as they began to walk off, "Very good. Good work. You passed the test."

"Are you really going to go for a drink with me?" he had to ask.

"Yeah, course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"I just thought…"

"Thought what?"

"I thought you might have a rule against soldiers."

Clara shook her head, "No. No, not at all," she glanced back as he went in a different direction than her, sighing under her breath, "Not me."

~8~

"There you are," the Doctor's voice called out.

Angel looked up from where she was kneeling in the small garden the TARDIS had given her to see him approaching, "Hello, my love."

He sat down beside her, watching as she planted a flower, "Who's this one for?"

"Hmm, a rather remarkable Time Lord who cared more about the lives of one small town than his own, who always cares more about others than himself."

He felt his lip quirk at that, knowing she was talking about him. She had a flower there for all the people they'd lost over the years, not many of those with Angel's knack for stopping bad things happening. But there were others, for their family, the garden had expanded to include new flowers for new additions too, in separate areas of course. This particular plot was reserved for remembering those they'd lost. Each of the incarnations she'd traveled with had a place there, represented by a different flower.

"We haven't been here in a while," he remarked.

"And whose fault is that?" she joked, teasingly nudging him in the side with a smile that told him she wasn't angry. She cared more about other lives than her own too, neither of them were about to leave Christmas defenseless.

He laughed a bit at that, "Tailor's gone to bed, MK9 is running a new upgrade Sarah Jane sent us, the TARDIS is drifting safely…and you're here."

"I am. You are too."

"Yes, but there's other places I'd much rather be," he waggled his eyebrows at her, earning a deep laugh as now she could actually TELL he was waggling his eyebrows as they were bushy and not quite so delicate any longer, "This could have been done after we'd gotten a good night's sleep…what brought you here?"

She shrugged lightly, "Just…thinking."

"About?" he tilted his head to observe her, he might have a direct link to her mind, but he wasn't the sort to go digging in it or peek without permission. Anything else in the Universe, yes he certainly would, but not his Mate's mind.

She let out a light breath and looked at him, "Would you really not let a soldier into the TARDIS?"

"No," he answered promptly, his mind flashing to the guns and his hearts exploding at seeing them anywhere near his daughter or his Mate.

Angel smiled softly at where his thoughts had gone, "The TARDIS is in a state of temporal grace…"

"Don't try that on me," he teased her back with a smile.

She held up her hands in surrender, "I just…I don't think it's fair to deny someone the chance to travel with us just because they're a soldier."

"I think it's plenty fair if it keeps you and Tailor safe."

"Jack was a soldier, Martha too, Rory…"

"And so were the Kovarian Army," he pointed out, "So were the Headless Monks."

The reminder of what that sect and their followers had taken from them didn't need to be said. They'd lost their daughter because of soldiers, she had been kidnapped by them, held there because they were following orders, her Mate forced to forget her, and their child ripped from her arms by them. Tailor had nearly become one, that had been the intention, turn her into a soldier, a weapon against her parents. And after suffering a battle like on Christmas for so long, the weariness that came with guns and weapons was all too clear to the Doctor.

Angel was silent for a moment, "What if my next companion is a soldier?"

The Doctor looked at her, almost startled at how opposite-end-of-the-spectrum that was from her first two companions, the Idiot and the Nurse, "Are you getting a feeling that…"

"No," she answered, "Yes? I'm not sure," she had to admit, "I feel like, whoever he is, he's kind and compassionate, like Rory. But…he'll also fight to protect what he loves, like Mickey and Rory. And…he doesn't deserve to be the tin dog and left behind either, like Mickey. He might be a soldier, he might not, he might have been one in the past. I just think…we shouldn't judge people on what they are so much as who they are."

The Doctor let out a long breath at that reasoning. It was true, just because someone was a soldier, didn't mean they were like the army he'd faced down to get his Mate back. HE had been a soldier at one point, Angel too, they'd saved Tailor from that fate but even Clara had been a soldier during her time as a Time Lady.

And Angel was the best person he knew. To think of never getting to know Angel solely because, during the war she'd been a soldier? It broke his hearts to think on.

"Alright," he mumbled, "Soldiers are allowed, but no guns, absolutely no guns around my girls."

Angel laughed at that compromise and reached out to hug her Mate.

She really didn't know who her next companion would be, she just felt like…he'd be amazing.

Chapter Text

Angel and Clara were standing at the console, Angel reviewing some newer controls that appeared to have sprung up on the console with the TARDIS's last repair, or had moved into a new spot, so the woman would be better prepared if they needed her to help pilot in the future. There was a faint giggle from a higher level of the room, one that circled around the console chamber, from Tailor. She and the Doctor were standing in front of a chalkboard, writing out equations on it. The Doctor was taking a moment to spend some time with his daughter, both of them engaging in some recreational mathematics.

Angel smiled as she observed her daughter, she was SO clever. She truly felt that the girl was the best of both her and the Doctor. Her love for the TARDIS, her intuitiveness, that was her mother, but how clever she was, how brave and quick and curious, that was all her father.

"Zig-Zag plotter?" Angel called, shaking herself from her thoughts to return her focus to Clara's review.

"Oh, I know this one," Clara beamed, reaching over to tap a lever on the console

"Very good!" Angel praised, giving her a hug from the side, "You've mastered the new console."

"Dad hasn't even done that yet," Tailor called, teasingly nudging her father in the side as he rolled his eyes.

"I think that calls for a reward," Angel continued, "How about you pick our next trip Clara?"

"What, seriously?" Clara blinked, looking between her and the Doctor.

The Doctor shrugged, in a good mood as he won the round of the games, "Take a punt," he spun to face her, "Your choice. Wherever, whenever, anywhere in time and space."

Clara thought about it a moment, "Well…there is something, someone that I've...always wanted to meet. But I know what you'll say."

"Try me."

"You'll say he's made up, that there is no such thing."

"Won't know unless you try!" Tailor called, though her voice was slightly muffled as she had her back to them, her gaze fixed on the board, sure that her father had cheated.

"It's...it's Robin Hood."

"Robin Hood?" Tailor turned at that, giving Clara a look.

"Yeah!" Clara cheered, so excited, "I love that story. I've always loved it, ever since I was little."

"Robin Hood," the Doctor sounded just on the cusp of incredulous, "The heroic outlaw, who robs from the rich and gives to the poor?"

"Yeah!"

"He's made up. There's no such thing."

"I told you!" Clara pointed at him, "I didn't need to be Angel to know you'd say that."

The Doctor rolled his eyes at that, "Old-fashioned heroes only exist in old-fashioned story books, Clara."

Tailor laughed, nudging her father as she passed him to join her mother and aunt at the bottom of the steps, closer to the console, "There's always you, dad."

"Me?" the Doctor scoffed.

"Who better?" Angel argued lightly, moving beside him and putting her arm around his middle, leaning against him with a smile, "The Doctor, who saves the Universe at every turn, stopping bad things from happening everywhere for no praise or reward, just because it's the right thing to do."

"Sounds like a hero to me," Clara agreed.

"Just passing the time," he brushed it off, "Hey, what about Mars?"

Angel scrunched her face at that, "We've not had the best luck with Mars, even with me being there, remember?"

"Maybe if we go earlier? The Ice Warrior Hives?"

"Dad you said it was Aunt Clara's choice," Tailor pointed out.

"There's also the Tumescent Arrows of the Half-Light!" he tried again, but this time all three women crossed their arms and gave him a look, "Those girls can hold their drink?"

"Doctor..." Clara began.

"And fracture 15 different levels of reality simultaneously," he began to pat his pockets frantically, looking for proof, "I think I've got a Polaroid somewhere..." he frowned when he pulled a large, metal spoon out of his pocket instead.

"Doctor!" Clara huffed, "My choice. Robin Hood. Show me!"

Angel smiled at her before turning to the Doctor, "Even if he's not real, we can at least let her meet the man who created his stories, can't we?"

The Doctor sighed, "I suppose," he moved to the console as Clara got eagerly excited just for that.

If she couldn't have Robin Hood himself, his author was just as well.

"Records indicate the earliest recording of the Robin Hood is AD 1190, Master!" MK9 pipped up, trundling over to his mistress.

"Thank you MK9," Tailor patted the dog on the head, making his tail wag as she passed him to join her parents at the console, "Earth, England..."

"Sherwood Forest," the Doctor sighed, "1190 AD...ish, and...here we go."

"So coordinates are all set?" Clara asked as the Doctor pulled a lever to send them off.

"Yes, yes, all taken care of..."

"Right then," she reached out to grab Angel and Tailor by the arms, pulling them back with her, "Off we go!"

"You're heading in the wrong direction!" he called, "The doors are THAT way," he gestured behind him.

"But not the wardrobe!" Clara shouted back, disappearing with the Time Ladies around a corner to the halls, MK9 following after Tailor.

The Doctor couldn't help but smile and shake his head at that.

~8~

The TARDIS materialized in the middle of a beautiful glade in Sherwood Forest one bright morning, birds were singing, a brook was bubbling nearby. The Doctor stepped out, cautiously looking around, "No damsels in distress, no pretty castles, no such thing as Robin Hood!"

Suddenly an arrow whizzed by and embedded itself in the door right beside him. And there, standing just across from him on a fallen tree...was a man dressed all in green, with a well trimmed beard, posing with a longbow in his hands.

The Doctor could only stare.

"You called?" the man grinned.

The Doctor shook his head, certain he'd literally gone mad this time and that the person before him was a hallucination. He turned back to the TARDIS and grabbed the arrow, trying to pull it out of the door. Hallucination or not, Angel would NOT be pleased if there was an arrow embedded in her sister. Funny though, for a hallucination, the arrow felt very real...

"Very, very nicely done with the box, sir," the man called, "I saw a Turk perform something very similar at Nottingham Faire. It's a trick with mirrors, no doubt?"

"A trick?"

"A good jest!" the man laughed loudly.

The Doctor spun to face him, "This is not a trick, this is a TARDIS."

"Whatever it is, you bony rascal, I'm afraid I must relieve you of it."

The Doctor snorted at that, "Just wait till my Mate steps out, I dare you to try and take it from her."

The Man merely shrugged, stepping onto a log that rested across the brook as a bridge, "If it's in the forest, then I'm afraid it belongs to Robin Hood."

The Doctor stared at him, "You're not serious."

"I'm many things, sir, but I'm never that. Robin Hood laughs in the face of all!" and, just to follow up, the man let out a hearty laugh.

The Doctor was not amused, "And do people ever punch you in the face when you do that?"

"Not as yet."

"Lucky I'm here then, isn't it?"

Just then Clara stepped out of the TARDIS, dressed in a lovely orange-red gown perfectly selected for the era they had arrived in, "Might be a little bit much," she was saying to someone still in the TARDIS, examining the hemline of the dress's bottom, "But...what do you reckon, Doctor?"

"By all the saints!" the man gasped, staring at Clara, "Your mate is gorgeous."

"She's NOT my Mate," the Doctor grimaced as Clara, at the same time, began to utter, "We are SO not Mates."

"Sister," the Doctor pointed at her.

"Brother," Clara agreed with a point of her own, "No, his Mate and daughter are still inside."

The man stared, "There are more in there?"

Clara blinked a moment, as though JUST noticing the man and his appearance, "Doctor...is that..."

"No," he cut in quickly, seeing Clara starting to get excited and honestly not sure what was going on.

"Oh, my God!" Clara gasped, "Oh, my God! It is, isn't it? You found him. You actually found Robin Hood!" she whirled around to the box, "Angel! Tailor, he found him! Robin Hood!"

"That is not Robin Hood!" the Doctor argued.

"Aye, tis me," the man grinned widely, making a mock bow at them, "And whom, shall I ask, is this beauty more lovely than the rising sun?"

Clara blushed at that, at having her hero compliment her in such a way, "Clara."

"Clara," he repeated, "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. From now on, all things so lovely they could only be created by the gods shall be a Clara."

Clara giggled just a little, before noticing the Doctor's less than pleased expression. She couldn't help but laugh a bit more as a thought struck her. He was clearly irritated with the man flirting with her...what was he gonna be like when the Time Ladies arrived?

"Doctor," she began, "I'm standing here, right next to you, and Robin Hood is flirting with me."

"Yes, and?"

"Angel and Tailor are dressing up too, they'll be out in a mo."

The Doctor blinked at that, "…ah."

Clara laughed as he reached behind him to quickly shut the door to the TARDIS as though that would keep them from coming out, "What? Afraid Robin Hood'll steal them away?"

"For the last time, he is NOT Robin Hood!"

"Well, then who, sir, is about to relieve you of your magic box?" the man grinned...and pulled his sword out of its sheath at his hip.

"Nobody, sir," the Doctor grit his teeth, "Not in this universe or the next." He had had far too much experience with people taking the box from him while his Mate was still inside. He would be damned if he let this pudding brain do the same.

"Well, then draw your sword and prove your words!"

The Doctor slowly made his way over to the man, stepping onto the makeshift bridge, "I have no sword. I don't need a sword. Because I am...the Doctor," he put a leather glove onto his right hand, "And this...is my spoon!" and pulled the same large, metal spoon out of his pocket, "En garde!"

Robin Hood twirled his sword around before lunging at the Doctor, both of them quick to exchange their parries, the Doctor pushing Robin back so much so that the man seemed genuinely surprised that it happened. He caught himself quickly enough and rushed at the Doctor, but the Time Lord moved stealthily to the side, tapping Robin on the head with the spoon as he passed.

"Ow!" the man grunted.

"You're amazing!" Clara called.

"I've had some experience," the Doctor replied without looking back, his eye on Robin, "Richard the Lionheart! Cyrano de Bergerac! Errol Flynn! He had the most enormous..." Clara cleared her throat at that, "...ego!"

"Takes one to know one," she muttered.

The Doctor blocked a strike from Robin, turning quickly and smacking the man on the backside with the spoon.

"Oh...you!" Robin glared, swiping his sword at the Doctor and managing to cut a button from his jacket. The Doctor looked down at it and back to Robin, holding his arms out wide for the man to attack, which he did...only for the Doctor to block the sword with his spoon and finally knock the man off the bridge and into the water.

Clara hurried over, standing next to the Doctor with a cry of, "Doctor!" horrified he'd done that to Robin Hood.

The Doctor blew on the spoon like it was a smoking gun and rubbed it on his coat arm, "Like I said...just try and take it."

Clara leaned over, looking into the water but Robin Hood hadn't surfaced, "Doctor?"

The Doctor bent over to examine the water himself...when Robin Hood jumped out of the water behind him and pushed him, sending him falling to the water as well...or he would have had a yellow ripple not caught him just millimeters above the water and gently lifted him back onto the bridge. The Doctor winced, knowing what that glow meant, and turned around, seeing Angel and Tailor standing there, leaning against the TARDIS, amused.

"...how long have you been standing there?"

"Longer than you'd like," Angel remarked.

"Dad you were brilliant!" Tailor cheered, moving to hug him as he stepped off the bridge.

He grinned, giving her a quick hug as he took her and Angel in, observing their costumes for this trip. Tailor was dressed similarly to Clara, in the sense that the shape of her dress was largely the same, though it appeared to be made of a different material, less velvet like Clara's and more satin. It was also in a deep green, more of a fitted top as there was a distinct line between the bodice and the flowing, pleated skirt. Her sleeves were also a little longer than Clara's, her hair held back in something of an intricate braid. MK9 rolled out of the TARDIS after his mistress, with a sort of sheet draped over his back like that of what a horse would wear, a crest embroidered on either side. The crest looked somewhat like the TARDIS in the shape of a shield, still its blue color, with angel wings on either side of it, golden flecks like stars smattered across the wings and shield.

Angel, seemed to have gone with a TARDIS blue colored gown, made of a soft material he couldn't name. From the top it might have looked like a tunic-styled v-neck long sleeved shirt, but there was a band of cloth just below the chest from which the rest of the dress hung in layers down to her feet. She too had sleeves like Clara and Tailor, dangling from her elbows but shorter in length. Her hair was down, pulled back on either side by a strand of a braid.

"Beautiful," the Doctor murmured, about both his girls.

Angel pushed off the TARDIS and moved to give him a quick kiss for his words.

"Dad..." Tailor began after a moment, finally getting a good look at the man he'd just been dueling with, "Is that...that can't be Robin Hood."

"No, it can't be," the Doctor agreed.

"Then...how?"

"That IS the question."

"Nay," Robin Hood spoke, splashing a bit as he got out of the water, "The true question is why two such divine beings would be hidden away in a..."

"No," the Doctor spun to point an angry finger at the man, "No, no, no, we're not doing this. You want to flirt, you flirt with Clara..."

"I am perfectly alright with that," Clara added.

"But my Mate and Daughter are off limits, understood?"

Robin Hood just grinned.

~8~

In a small, struggling village, a man ran after a set of soldiers as they dragged a young woman with them, others of their sort pillaging the town for anything and everything of value.

"In the name of all that's holy," he begged, "Take our money, take our treasure, but spare my ward!"

"Do not fuss, all will be well," the woman tried to reassure him.

"This is the Sheriff's doing! If he were here now, I'd tear out his black heart!"

"Would you now?" a voice called, the sheriff himself, dressed in all his black finery, wearing his chain of office around his neck like a medal of honor. He sneered down at the man before getting down from his horse to approach, "Or are you as milk-livered as your name suggests, Master Quayle?"

"Take me!" the man, Quayle, offered, "Spare this dear child!"

"Take you?! A lardy lack-wit like you? It's labor we require up at the castle! Labor and gold, not old men and their worthless baubles. This will be a great help, Master Quayle, believe me," he smirked at the man and turned on his heel to observe the woman, "Newcomer to Sherwood, are we?"

The woman swallowed hard, but answered, "Yes, my Lord."

"You may also prove useful. Bring her."

"Your days are numbered, you cur!" Quayle shouted as the soldiers dragged her off, spitting at the sheriff.

The official wiped his face off from the substance, "You shall live to regret that. Actually, no, you won't."

Before anyone could move to stop him, the sheriff pulled his sword from its sheath and stabbed Quayle, ignoring the screams of the woman to stop. He merely pulled his sword free, wiping off the blood and mounting his horse, paying no mind to the man who fell to the ground nor the cries for help as the woman struggled in the hold of his soldiers.

~8~

The Doctor rolled his eyes at Clara's excitement, following the woman as Robin Hood led them to his secret hideout in the forest. He was torn between being grateful and irritated. Irritated because Robin Hood had seemed to sense his true disagreement with the man speaking to Angel or Tailor, and had seemed about to make it a point to flirt with both of them just to upset him. Clara had stepped in though, seeming to guess that as well, and had mentioned her appreciation in his duel and wondered why his Merry Men hadn't been there to help him. Clearly it was a tactic to divert Robin Hood's attention from Angel or Tailor, which he appreciated and was grateful for, but now he was watching the man flirt with Clara and always on edge that, at any moment, he'd turn his sights to his family instead. That and the man just would NOT shut up! Robin Hood had gotten onto a tangent about his own skills with numerous weapons and how he'd used unconventional means to make daring escapes.

He looked over when Tailor nudged him, each of his girls walking on either side of him, linked arms with him as he'd refused to let the supposed Robin Hood accompany his daughter and Mate. He almost wished he had an extra set of arms so that he could keep Clara away from the flirt but she'd seemed far too keen to be escorted by Robin Hood than himself. Still, after the way he'd flirted with Clara, there was no way Angel or Tailor were going near the man if he had anything to say about it.

Tailor just gave him a shake of her head, not needing to read his mind to know where his thoughts had gone. She was an odd mix of curious and excited as well, curious because her father was SO sure that Robin Hood didn't exist…yet there he was. She always loved learning new things and finding out how a man who couldn't exist did was amazing.

"Ah ha!" Robin Hood cheered as he approached his men, all gathered around a fire near a cave, "Let me introduce you to my men. This is Will Scarlet. He is a cheeky rogue with a good sword arm and a slippery tongue."

A young lad stepped up, "My Lady," he said, offering them a deep bow…only to jerk back when the Doctor plucked a strand of hair from his head, "Argh! What do you want with my hair?"

The Doctor whipped out the sonic and began to scan the strand, frowning at the results, "Well, it's realistic, I'll give you that."

Robin eyed him oddly, before turning to the next member of his gang, a portly fellow in a Fransciscan robe, "And this is Friar Tuck. Aptly named for the amount of grub he tucks into!"

Tuck laughed heartily at that, "You skinny blackguard!" shaking Robin's shoulder for good measure…and nearly toppling over when the Doctor grabbed Tuck's sandal right off his foot, "What are you doing?!"

"This isn't a real sandal!" the Doctor shouted.

"Yes, it is," Tuck argued.

Angel reached up just as the Doctor was about to sniff it, lowering his arm to save him from having that smell up his nose, "It is," she assured him, gently taking it from him and handing it back to Tuck, "Sorry."

Robin nodded his thanks to her, "As lovely of spirit as you are lovely of bod..."

"Finish that sentence," the Doctor was suddenly very close to the man's face, nearly nose to nose, "I dare you."

Clara reached out and tentatively pulled the Doctor away, "Sorry."

Robin cleared his throat, trying to hide a grin as he observed what truly seemed to irritate the Doctor, and moving on to another man playing a lute, "This is Alan-a-Dale. He's a master of the lute, whose music brightens up these dark days. Though, not as much as the bright smiles of you beautiful ladies do," he added with a wink.

Tailor quickly grabbed her father's arm and patted it, trying to keep him calm as he nearly growled at the man's compliment to them.

"Strangers you are welcome here," Alan began to sing, "In Sherwood's bonny glade…ow!" he gasped as the Doctor stabbed him in the arm with a syringe.

"Dad!" Tailor gasped, not having expected it to escalate so quickly. He'd only JUST stepped away from her and the next thing she knew he was stabbing people.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," the Doctor quickly stepped back, moving to crouch before MK9 and squeeze a drop or two of the blood onto the dog's sensors, "Go on boy..."

"Blood analysis initiating," the dog spoke, startling the Merry Men, making them jump back even more when a holographic screen projected from its eyes with a list of its results.

"What sort of devil..." Friar Tuck breathed, crossing himself.

"Oi!" Tailor frowned, "That's my dog, not a devil."

The Merry Men looked at each other, not sure what to do. The dog was odd, but...given everything that had been happening in the villages recently...it wasn't quite as strange as it would have been. And at least these strangers seemed a fair bit kinder than the Sheriff's lot. Well, maybe not that Doctor bloke but the women seemed kind.

"Oh," the Doctor hissed, not really paying attention to them as he looked at the scan, "All those diseases! If you were real, you'd be dead in six months."

"…I AM real," Alan stuttered, not sure what to make of all this.

"Bye," the Doctor waved at him and turned to step away from the group, looking around.

Tailor looked at her mother for that, Angel could only shake her head with an amused smile on her face.

"I'm sorry about him," Angel offered, stepping over to where Alan was rubbing at his arm, "May I?"

Alan seemed hesitant to let her anywhere near him after what the Doctor had done, but a quick glance at Robin, who eyed her closely but nodded, was enough and he held his arm out to her. Angel smiled and looked down at his arm, at the bit of blood around the puncture mark. She gently wiped at it, not worried about the blood or diseases, Time Lords were made of stronger stuff.

Alan gasped when he saw a faint golden glow ripple from her finger, the small wound closing instantly, the blood vanishing. He looked up at her, stunned, but she offered him a wink and a smile.

"Better?" she asked, gently pulling the sleeve of his tunic back down so the others wouldn't see. Given Tuck was a clearly devout man of the faith and how he'd reacted to MK9, she didn't want to do anything more to upset him. Robin Hood hadn't seemed to notice the golden net that had caught the Doctor, he had been half blocked from seeing it by the fallen tree and assumed the Doctor had righted himself.

"My lady," Alan breathed, staring at her before moving to lift her hand to his lips in thanks…only for another hand to appear in its place as the Doctor somewhat pulled Angel away and his hand got caught in the crossfire.

"Ew," the Doctor grimaced, wiping off the kiss from his hand, and pointing at the man in warning, "No kissing my Mate."

And, just like that, he turned to stalk back to where he'd been standing as though nothing had happened.

Tailor had to laugh at that, her father certainly didn't seem to like anyone even remotely touching her or her mother.

"Ignore him," Clara offered, "He's a bit rude."

"A bit?" Tailor laughed more at that, her father was SO rude this time.

"Are you Little John?" Clara continued, seeing one man that hadn't been introduced yet, "John Little?"

"Aye," Robin moved towards the man, patting him on the arm, "He's my loyal companion in many an adventure."

Clara approached the man to introduce herself, when another man, much smaller, jumped out from behind the larger one, causing the group to start laughing.

"Works every time!" Will cheered.

"Oh, I cannot believe this!" Clara beamed, "You...really are Robin Hood and his Merry Men!"

"Aye!" Robin agreed, "That is an apt description. All the more merry for having met you," he winked at them.

"No winking at my girls!" the Doctor shouted from where he was sonicing leaves, "MK9, if they wink at them again, fire all lasers."

"Yes, Master."

"MK9 don't listen to him," Tailor countered, "It's rude to fire a laser at someone for being nice."

"Yes, Mistress."

Angel had to shake her head at the poor old dog, two very conflicting orders. But she knew that MK9 had been programmed to take Tailor's word as order before her or the Doctor's so Robin and his Men should be safe for now.

"Ha!" Robin began to laugh, turning to his men, "What say you, lads? Are we not merry?!"

"Aye!" they all yelled out.

"Hello!" Tailor waved, realizing that Robin's introductions were over now, "I'm Tailor, and this is my aunt Clara, and my mum, Angel."

"Nice to meet you all," Angel smiled, nodding.

"Tis certainly nice indeed!" Robin called, the men bursting out into laughter.

"Oi!" the Doctor huffed and stomped over, "Stop that. Stop all of it, all that...laughing! Why are you always doing that? Are you all simple or something?" he shook his head and moved to pick up a wooden goblet, throwing the contents onto the ground and holding the container up to Robin, "I'm going to need a sample."

"Of what?" Robin eyed the goblet.

"Ok," Tailor stepped up, taking the goblet, "I don't think you need to go that far, dad."

"I need to know how they're here," the Doctor argued.

"I don't want...that liquid...on my dog's sensors," she countered, pushing him gently to the side, away from Robin, as Angel and Clara joined them.

"Doctor," Clara sighed, "What are you doing?"

"Well, they're not holograms, that much is obvious," he muttered, eyeing the men over their shoulders, "Could be a theme park from the future. Or we might be inside a miniscope."

"A…miniscope?" Angel shook her head, not too familiar with it but very much doubting it.

But the Doctor seemed to think that was just the thing, "A miniscope! Yes, of course! Why not?"

The three women watched as he strode off, seeming to be looking for more evidence to support that.

"Can't you just tell him they're real?" Clara asked Angel.

"I could," Angel agreed, "But he'd still worry."

"Why?" Tailor frowned at that.

Angel smiled as she glanced at them, "Because this wouldn't be the first time something seemed real only for it to be a trap," she told them softly, "It's possible that Robin and his men aren't what they appear to be."

"Scanners indicate the presence of three Time Lords and seven humans," MK9 piped up.

The three women looked down at the little robotic dog that had trundled after them, "Good boy," Tailor offered the pup a pat on the head for his offer of help.

"Your friend..." Robin Hood began as he walked over to join them, "Seems not quite of the real world."

The women looked at each other before laughing themselves, just as loudly as the Merry Men had.

"Oi!" the Doctor called from across the camp as he soniced his way through it, "Stop that!"

'Don't worry, my love,' Angel murmured in his mind, 'I don't mind your snooping.'

'It isn't snooping,' he insisted, focusing back on his work, 'I just…I NEED to know that they're safe. I need to know this isn't going to be like the last times.'

Angel nodded to herself at that, seeing the memories that were floating through his mind. The Nestene Duplicates with the Pandorica, the Flesh that had replaced her, even some instances where the Cybermen were able to control humans. There were far too many instances where the humans could be compromised or imitated, and they'd had far, far too much experience in just how dangerous that could be. She would not fault him his caution. She, personally, wasn't getting a sense off the men that they were dangerous or false, but…when it came to the safety of her family, she was not about to risk their lives on something like that.

"No," Clara answered as she and Tailor calmed down, "No, he's not really, not most of the time," they were silent a moment before she turned to Robin, "Dark days?"

"My lady?"

"You said that these were dark days, what did you mean?"

'Dark days?' the Doctor's voice called in Angel's mind, 'Ooh, haven't had any of those in a long time.' She looked over to see him smiling at her for a moment before he went back to his searching.

"1190," Tailor remarked, "King Richard and the Crusade, right mum?"

Angel nodded, "Well done."

"Aye," Will agreed as they slowly made their way closer to the camp once more, "His tyrant of a brother rules instead."

"King John," Tailor added.

"And the Sheriff?" Clara asked, sounding a little too excited for the situation, "'Cos there is a sheriff, right?"

"Aye," Alan called, "It is indeed this jackal of the prince's who seeks to oppress us forever more."

"Or six months in your case," the Doctor called.

"Dad, be nice," Tailor scolded lightly.

"It is a shame to dwell on murky thoughts..." Robin countered, "When there is such beauty here."

Clara blushed as Robin winked at her and stepped off to the side.

Angel glanced at him and then to Clara, leaning over to whisper, "You take him and I take the Doctor?"

Clara laughed a bit at that, before nodding and following Robin Hood away, let the Time Ladies deal with the Time Lord, "Why are you so sad?" she asked once they were far enough away to not be overheard.

Robin gave her a smile, "Why do you think me sad?"

"Because the Doctor's right, you laugh too much."

"You know, I do not live this outlaw life by choice. You see before you...Robert..."

"Earl of Loxley," Clara finished for him.

"Yes."

"Yes. Sorry, do go on."

"I erm...I had my lands and titles stripped from me. I dared to speak out against Prince John. But I lost the thing most dear to me."

"What was she called?"

"You're so very quick! How does the Doctor stand it?"

Clara laughed, "His daughter's getting quicker than me, Angel's the quickest, he has to stand it," she observed him a moment, guessing, "Marian?"

"You know her?"

"Yes. I have always known her."

"It was Marian who told me that I must stand up and be counted. But...I was afraid. Now this green canopy is my palace and the rough ground my feather bed. Maybe one day I will return home, but until that day...until that day it is beholden on me to be the man Marian wanted, to be a hero for those this tyrant sheriff slaughters."

Clara's smile grew soft as she listened to him talk, "I don't understand why you and the Doctor are butting heads so much. You're the same."

"Ha!" Robin laughed heartily at that, "I hardly think myself the same as that grim faced horse."

"You'd be surprised," she told him, "Watch."

Robin gave her an odd look at that, but followed her gaze to where the Doctor was speaking with Angel, Tailor crouched down and offering MK9 samples of grass and dirt to examine, likely to 'keep up the investigation' while her father was distracted. It didn't take long for her intention to be made clear.

The Doctor didn't look happy about something, but the more he spoke to Angel, the less irate he got. Angel reached out and took his hands, lifting one to press a kiss to his knuckles…and the Doctor smiled. Not a large one, or a goofy one that Clara was used to seeing on his last face, but a soft one, small though it was. The way he looked at Angel, like she was his whole world…Clara could see Robin nodding beside her.

"I see he has a Marian of his own," Robin murmured.

"He's lost his home," Clara informed him quietly, "He and Angel. Tailor was born afterwards, but she feels that loss, I know it. He's suffered and lost so much in his life, and he tries, every day, to do the right thing and make things better for others. He tries to be a person his Mate and daughter can be proud of."

"Hmmm," Robin hummed, "If only he laughed more, I would say the resemblance is uncanny. Well, that and this charming façade," he pointed to his face with a smile, winking at Clara as they headed back to the others.

"What time is it?" the Doctor was asking.

Robin looked up, just about to answer based on where the sun had risen to, when Angel beat him to it, "17 past noon."

"Time of year," the Doctor corrected himself, "What season?"

"Almost autumn," Angel answered again, "Just starting."

"Huh," he muttered, "It's very green hereabouts, isn't it? Like I said, very sunny."

"So?" Clara shook her head.

"It's not uncommon," Tailor offered as she stood, brushing off her hands, "The start of autumn usually is pretty humid and sunny."

"It could be climate change?" Clara offered.

"It's 1190," the Doctor reminded her.

Robin nodded as though this were fascinating to him, just…truly fascinating, "You must excuse me," he spun around and turned back to his men, "The Sheriff has issued a proclamation and tomorrow there is to be a contest to find the best archer in the land. And the bounty...it's an arrow made of pure gold."

"No!" Clara gasped, "Don't go! It's a trap."

"I think he knows that," Angel commented with a smile.

Robin Hood pointed at her to confirm, laughing when the Doctor stepped in the path of the point to block his Mate from it, "But a contest to find the best archer in the land? There is no contest."

All his Men laughed loudly at that.

The Doctor eyed them oddly, "Right, that isn't even funny," he pointed an accusing finger at the men, "That was bantering. I am totally against bantering."

Tailor snorted at that, "You love bantering and you know it. You just only love it when the banter makes you look even more clever."

The Doctor turned his accusing finger at her in warning. And so she gave a mature response, of sticking her tongue out at her father.

"How can you be so sure he's not the real thing?" Clara had to ask him.

"Because he can't be."

"When did you stop believing in everything?"

"When did you start believing in impossible heroes?"

Clara gave him a pointed look.

"Around the same time I did," Angel told him, reaching out to take his pointing finger and lowering it, "The very moment I met you."

He felt his lip quirk up and groaned, "Don't do that. Don't make me smile right now."

"Ooh, then you had better not look at Tailor then," Angel teased.

Tailor looked between her parents, a little confused by her mother's words, before she saw her father glance at her and smile just at the sight of her, "Dad…" she huffed, giving him a little hug for it. Neither of her parents, it seemed, were able to look at her without smiling, it made a warm feeling burst in her chest.

He sighed and looked at Clara, "I'll have you know, I believe in 5 things," he held up a hand at her, his palm facing her, "Three of those things are here right now, so ha."

Clara rolled her eyes but smiled regardless, knowing it was probably the three girls he was referring to, before she turned to head back over to Robin Hood.

"Dad, if you don't want to keep smiling," Tailor warned him with a smile, "Then stop saying things that make me want to hug you."

The Doctor shook his head at her, waving her off. Tailor turned with a flourish of her skirts and headed after Clara.

Angel smiled as she wound an arm around his waist, leaning on him, "You realize our daughter is right about to walk into the camp of Robin Hood and his Merry Men."

The Doctor nodded…before his eyes widened and he ran after his daughter to tug her back, not wanting her anywhere near the flirting man, as Angel laughed.

Chapter Text

Angel and Tailor stood nearby Clara as they watched the archery contest take place, MK9 kept close to Tailor's feet, partially hidden by her gown. The Doctor had had a bit of a fit trying to decide whether to accompany them or return to the TARDIS for something that he claimed he needed to continue investigating the situation. He still didn't trust Robin or his men, and that went even less for the other people of the era now, and he hadn't wanted them to go without him. But he also didn't want Clara to go alone as she insisted she was going whether he like it or not. Tailor seemed eager to witness the contest as well and neither he nor Angel were going to let them just wander off without one of them being there.

Angel had reassured him that she didn't sense any immediate danger, joking slightly that, with his luck, the danger wouldn't appear until he got there anyway. Promising with a crossing of her hearts that at the first sign of danger she would teleport Clara and Tailor back to the TARDIS if he wasn't there yet.

He'd reluctantly given in though he had yet to appear.

"In the contest for the golden arrow," a herald was announcing to the crowd that had gathered, "After ten rounds, the battle is betwixt our Lord Sheriff..." Clara laughed at the boos that sounded, "And the stranger known as Tom the Tinker!"

Clara shook her head as a man in a cloak bowed elaborately, knowing it was Robin. For a man of his caliber, he didn't seem to have the best sense of costume or disguise. Still, she applauded as loudly as the rest of the crowd for 'the Tinker.'

"Perhaps not such a stranger, after all," the Sheriff muttered.

"Take your places!"

The Sheriff and Robin both walked to their spots, looking at the target ahead of them, "Shall we make the contest a little more interesting, my Lord?" Robin called, "The targets seem a little close. What say you? Another 20 paces?"

"Why not?" the Sheriff agreed, gesturing to two pages to move the target farther away.

"Shall we take bets?" Clara asked the two women on either side of her. They both gave her a look, "Right, psychics."

"What," Tailor teased, nudging her, "No faith in your Robin Hood?"

"He'll win, I know he will."

Angel smiled at that, "I think the Doctor will win."

"What, is he actually making a bet on this?" Clara laughed, watching as the Sheriff fired his arrow, hitting the center of the target.

"Now, Tinker," the Sheriff baited, "Let us see thy true face."

Robin shot his arrow without word, splitting the Sheriff's in half, earning the cheers and applause of the crowd.

"Ye Gads!" the Herald gasped, "He has split the arrow! Truly, he is the finest archer in all England! Come forward, Tinker, and claim your prize."

"3…2…" Angel began to count, "1."

And just as she finished, just as the Herald was about hand Robin the golden arrow, another arrow shot through the air and split the two arrows embedded in the target down the middle.

"Such a showoff," Tailor muttered as the Doctor lowered his bow and arrow.

Clara sighed, "Should have expected that, shouldn't I?"

"He's full of surprises, isn't he?" John remarked from a few feet beside them.

"I am the Doctor," the Time Lord called out as he slowly walked forward, "My skills as a bowman speak for themselves. I claim my reward," the Herald dropped to a kneel, holding up the arrow to the Doctor as it rested on a pillow. He took it, quickly looking it over, "A mere bauble," before tossing it away, "I want something else."

"Name it," the Sheriff strode over.

"Enlightenment."

Before he could say more, Robin fired one more arrow that split the Doctor's. The Time Lord rolled his eyes, and fired another one…this time one that bounced off two soldiers' armor and right to the target. This just prompted Robin to fire another arrow without looking.

"This is getting silly," the Doctor muttered, pulling out the sonic and aiming it at the target, blowing it up, leading to a deafening silence and a deep frown of concern from Angel for the action.

"Fascinating…" the Sheriff breathed, eyeing the sonic, before yelling out, "Seize him!"

Two knights pulled their swords, only for a spark of gold to cause them to drop the weapons as though their hands had been burned.

The Doctor looked over at Angel and winked at her in thanks.

'I can do more,' she called in his head, looking at the other knights quick to follow their comrades as she, Clara, and Tailor rushed over to the Doctor's side with MK9 trundling after them, the Merry Men hurrying to Robin Hood.

'No,' the Doctor argued, 'The Sheriff was too impressed with just the sonic, I don't want to risk him discovering your power.'

Angel bit her lip at that, not pleased, but gave him a small nod, all of them crowding closer together…when Robin jumped in front of them.

"Don't worry," Robin called, "I'll save you!"

"We really don't need saving," the Doctor huffed, between himself and Angel, the people who needed saving would be the others fleeing from the knights.

"Your honor is safe, sweet Clara," Robin added, "For I am Robin!" he pulled the hat of his obnoxious costume off his head as the crowd stopped to cheer, "Robin Hood!" he leapt for one of the knights that approached, swiping it with his sword…and cutting off his arm only for sparks to fly about.

"Robot!" the Doctor shouted, grabbing the arm from the ground. He spun in a circle to face the knight in question, but its helmet divided in half down the middle, parting open to reveal a metallic face underneath. A slit opened across the forehead, with another slit right down the nose, almost like a cross forming. A light began to shine within it, blue in color, "Now we're getting somewhere!"

"Take them!" the Sheriff ordered and the robotic knights began to advance, "Kill the rest! Kill them all!"

Within moments, unable to help it with a threat so near, a golden glow swirled around the humans and Time Lords as the robots began to fire at them through lasers in the crosses, MK9's own laser powering up to help defend his Mistress.

There was a bright flash of light and Tailor gasped as she stumbled, the Merry Men beside her, MK9 at her feet, right in the middle of the TARDIS console room, her parents, Clara, and Robin Hood nowhere to be seen.

Tailor couldn't help but huff, "Not fair, mum!"

~8~

The woman from the village hurried over to an old man as he fell to the floor of a large, cavernous room inside a castle, exhausted. He was trying to carry buckets of the metal that had been taken from the villages over to a large furnace, just as many other prisoners were, but he was so old and feeble he couldn't manage.

"Here...let me help you," she tried to help him back up.

"Thank you..." the man groaned, "Lady…"

The woman gasped as one of the metal knights approached, looming over them, "What are you? Gargoyle, what are you?"

"Leave it," the metal man ordered.

But she shook her head, "He only needs to rest. We all need to rest."

The knight turned to the man, a light flickering from it and quickly moving over the man, "Analysis shows that peasant creature is spent."

"No, please," the woman began to beg, having heard those words before with other prisoners, knowing what would be coming next.

"Usefulness expired."

"No!" the man gasped, struggling to find the strength to get away, "No! No!"

The knight didn't care at all, merely firing a different light at the man, vaporizing him right on the spot as the woman watched on in horror, until all that was left was a pile of clothing lying on the ground with smoke rising from it.

"Damn you," the woman cursed, "Damn you and that villain the Sheriff!"

She dropped to her knees, gently touching the clothing as she cried, unable to do anything to help any of the prisoners or herself, they were trapped there, to work to death.

~8~

"I still don't understand," Clara mumbled as the door to the prison cell slammed shut, leaving her, Angel, the Doctor, and Robin Hood chained to posts on the floor in roughly that order, "We were fine, we were safe, Angel could have gotten us out of there, and now we're trapped in a prison cell?"

"Best way to find out what's going on, get captured," the Doctor defended.

They had been lucky, the Sheriff had been so startled by the appearance of the Vortex shield that he'd stopped the robots from attacking. Angel's back had, thankfully, been to the man so he hadn't seen her eyes glowing golden as the shield began to fade. The man hadn't worked out that it had been her that had done it. They'd been arrested and led to this cell, which they could easily escape thanks to Angel, but the Doctor seemed to have intended for them to end up there.

The only one missing was Tailor.

"She's safe," Angel spoke, as though reading her mind or sensing the question she was about to ask, "I sent her and the Merry Men to the TARDIS."

"Not sure how safe that is," the Doctor disagreed lightly, "I don't trust those men."

"I'll have you know, sir, my men are the most honorable, courageous men you shall ever find," Robin defended, "They would guard your daughter with their lives."

"So would the Romans until they turn out to be plastic dolls," he muttered.

Angel shook her head, "I don't think they are," she offered.

"You didn't think the Romans were…"

"That was different," Angel reminded him, "That was centuries ago. I think I've gotten stronger since then. I sense more off the Sheriff than I do Robin's men. And the TARDIS is the safest place she could ever be. Sissy would NEVER let anything happen to her. I just wanted her far away from here."

The Doctor had to sigh at that, understanding, he didn't want their daughter caught with them either, he just wished that he or Angel could have been with her instead of those men. And that was just another source of his frustration. He wouldn't want Angel or Tailor alone with the Merry Men without him there or able to be there soon like with the archery contest, but if he wanted them with him, they would either be trapped with him right now or he'd be unable to investigate the Sheriff.

He wasn't foolish enough to say that Angel and her abilities wouldn't be needed, he trusted that, while the Vortex was used, it was as intuitive as Angel was. It wouldn't just send Tailor off with the Merry Men if they weren't trustworthy. He had to trust that. He wasn't happy with it, but he had to look at the fact that his daughter was safe and away from the danger, and his Mate, while in danger, had him around to help protect her.

"Splendid," Robin huffed, "Enchained! Trussed up like turkey-cocks! Thanks to your old, scrawny friend."

"Shut it, Hoodie," the Doctor glared at him in the dark, instantly on the defense. Even though he knew the remark had been directed at HIM, it had been Angel that had followed his wishes to let them be captured and so it felt as though Robin was also insulting her too, "My Mate saved your life."

"I had the situation well in hand."

"Long-haired ninny versus robot killer knights, I know where I'd put my money."

"If she had not used her witchcraft, I would have been triumphant!"

"Oi! Oi, she is NOT a witch! If it wasn't for her, you would have been a little puff of smoke and ashes!"

"Ha!"

"You'd have been floating around in tiny little laughing bits in people's goblets."

"Balderdash! Ha!"

"Oh, right, here we go, it's laughing time!"

"Well, you amuse me, grey old man!"

"Guard!" the Doctor turned to look at the door to the cell, "He's laughing again! You can't keep me locked up with a laughing person."

Clara looked over at Angel as the Doctor and Robin Hood continued to bicker, but she was just looking at them oddly, more specifically the Doctor.

"Oh, I find that quite funny," Robin continued, "Do you know, I feel another laugh coming on. Ha-ha-ha!"

"Guards, I cannot remain in this cell! Execute me now!"

"You heard him, execute the old fool!"

"No, hang on, execute him!"

"I do not fear death, so execute away!"

"Execute him! I'd like to see if his head keeps laughing when you chop it off!"

"Oh, Robin Hood always laughs in the face of death."

"Yes, rolling around the floor laughing, I'd pay good money to see that! Guard!"

"Guard!"

"Guard!"

"Guard!"

"Guard!"

"Guard!"

"Oh, you two, SHUT UP!" Clara couldn't take it anymore, Angel might have the patience of a saint, but she was NOT the same, "Do either of you understand, in any way at all, that there isn't actually a guard out there?"

The Doctor and Robin glanced at each other, then the door, "Oh," was all the Doctor could say.

"No guard," Angel agreed with Clara.

Robin Hood, however, turned his nose up, "I did, in fact."

"No," Angel shook her head, "You didn't."

"Who would have thought," Clara mumbled, "The Doctor and Robin Hood locked up in a cellar. Is this seriously the best you can do?" she asked the two men, "You're determined to starve to death in here squabbling."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing," Robin smirked, "I'd last a lot longer than this desiccated man-crone."

"Really?" the Doctor couldn't help but scoff at that.

"Really."

"Well, you know what? I think you'll find I have a certain genetic advantage."

"It is not a competition about who can die slower!" Clara snapped.

"It would definitely be me, though, wouldn't it?" the Doctor turned to Angel for that.

She frowned at him, "I really don't ever want to think of you dying, fast or slow," she told him, "I've seen both, and I've lived both."

That seemed to sober the Doctor up quite quickly as his expression changed to one of instant regret, both of what she'd said was true. And now his mind filled with the images of Angel regenerating so suddenly he had no warning, to that horrible two years where he'd had to watch Angel slowly fading twice over. She had seen the same, with him, how he'd regenerated instantly, how she'd had to watch him grow old and feeble and near the end of his life. Both times their 'illnesses' had been extended, neither had known if the other would survive past the regeneration, if regeneration would even set in.

He swallowed hard at that, feeling his hearts constricting at the memories, and only just realizing how his words had come across, what he'd been saying in general. He hadn't even realized what words were coming out of his mouth, his mind just...off. He never, ever wanted her to have to experience his death again, nor did he want to see her go through hers, nor Tailor hers.

"Angel…" he began slowly, shaking his head, not sure what he could say to explain himself.

"Are you alright, my love?" Angel asked him gently, her gaze searching his eyes for something, a deep concern reflected in them for how he had been acting.

"I…I don't know," he admitted, sounding truly startled to say those words and mean them. He honestly didn't know what had come over him just then.

"We need a plan," Clara spoke quietly, her own concern for the Doctor and how he'd reacted to Robin Hood bleeding into her voice, "Does anyone have a plan?"

She knew that they could be freed at any time, Angel's power and all, but what after that?

"Yeah," the Doctor cleared his throat, shaking his head as he took a breath, one problem at a time. Right now he needed to figure out what was going on with this whole legend run amok, save the humans…and then save himself. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was something to do with his new face, with the sort of man he was, and he was not liking where it was going, "Of course I have a plan."

Clara glanced at Angel for how suddenly subdued the Doctor sounded.

Trust Robin Hood to take the conversation back to what it was, a competition, "I, too, have a plan."

"Ok," Clara spoke, "Robin, you first."

It was a true testament to how off balance the Doctor was that he didn't even complain that Robin was going first.

"I am...biding my time."

Clara's hopeful expression dropped like a stone, "Thank you, Prince of Thieves. Last of the Time Lords?"

"Yes, I have a plan," the Doctor stated.

"Which involves using his sonic," Angel remarked, not taking her gaze away from the Doctor, seeing his plan in his mind, "Which the Sheriff confiscated. I can get us out well enough, but what next?"

Clara nodded at that, exactly what she had been thinking, "Can you see anything, Angel?"

Angel sighed, she didn't really try to force visions. Despite how long she'd had the Vortex inside of her, it always made her feel on edge to try and use it to intentionally look into the future. The Vortex was powerful, it often corrupted people in the past who had used it, and she did not ever want to let it corrupt her. She felt, in her hearts and soul, that what she had said when she'd finally accepted the Vortex was true, it couldn't corrupt her, it truly was a part of her and a power she always meant to hold. But that didn't mean she was entirely without fear and caution. She had a respect for the Vortex and its power, to use it like that felt like cheating. When visions came to her, she took it as a glimpse the Vortex and time itself was letting her see, perhaps even as something it wanted her to change. And yes, in truly dangerous and life threatening circumstances, she might try to look to the future if she had no other choice. The closest she felt comfortable to doing anything like that would be to calm herself and open her mind and hope something would come through.

"Not really," she answered, she hadn't actually had any vision during this trip which was unusual, but not alarming, "I feel like all will be well, in the end, that the danger isn't…true? No, that's not the word, serious? I don't know the word."

It was difficult to describe but the way it felt was like…like how Robin Hood laughed. Like it was more comical than actually dangerous, something from a fairytale or legend and not…real. She knew it was truly real, she would not have sent her daughter off to the TARDIS if it wasn't, but she just felt like it wouldn't be as dangerous an adventure as they'd had in the past.

Before she could utter another word, the door to the room opened and a guard entered.

"See?" Robin muttered, "There was a guard. There was guard listening the whole time, I knew it. Ha-ha-ha-ha!"

"The Sheriff himself commanded me to listen, to find out which of you is the true ringleader," the guard spoke.

Angel didn't voice the lie the man had just told. She could certainly sense that the guard had, in fact, walked away, too irritated by the squabbling the Doctor and Robin had been engaged in, and only returned now that they had fallen silent.

"Ah, so he can do the interrogating," the Doctor nodded, "Very wise."

"Excellent," Robin agreed, "He will get nothing from me!"

"No, no, no, he will get nothing from me, because interrogation, that's where I always turn the tables. You see, that's my plan."

"Just hurry up and take me to him."

"No, no, chop-chop, come on!"

"Clara," Angel looked over at the girl as the two men continued to bicker, gaining her attention, "I've a feeling he likes to talk as much as them."

Clara had only a moment to shoot her a confused look before the guard was heading in her direction, unlocking the chains that bound her and hauling her up. A look of realization dawning on her face at the idea that the guard seemed to think SHE was the one in charge, "Seriously?"

"Come on," the guard kept a firm hold on her arm and led her out of the cell.

"No," the Doctor called.

"What are you doing?" Robin shouted.

"Don't be ridiculous!"

The door just slammed shut.

~8~

"What in the name of god…" Friar Tuck breathed as he took in the sight of the TARDIS around them, the golden arrow held loosely in his hand from where he'd snatched it off the ground in the commotion.

"Lonely god and his angel," Tailor muttered, moving to the console, typing something in to the monitor to bring up a feed of her parents. Normally the TARDIS needed to connect to some sort of visual feed or sensors outside the box, but there was a special protocol when it came to the pilots. With the right commands, the TARDIS could see through time to show what was happening to them right at that moment.

Normally it wasn't used, because usually she and her parents were off in the thick of everything or not near the TARDIS to use the program, or they already knew exactly what was going on anyway, but this was different. It wasn't a protocol they often taught the Companions either, they tended to be right there along with them so it was mostly pointless for them to know how to bring it up.

"Oh dad," Tailor huffed when she saw her father and mother sitting in a stone cell, Robin Hood there as well.

"What IS this place?" Alan-A-Dale gasped.

"The TARDIS," she answered distractedly, "A ship that flies through the stars and time itself. Also my Aunt Idris."

"'Tis a thing of beauty indeed," John remarked.

Tailor smiled, "That she is," she looked up as the TARDIS hummed warmly, "Aunt Idris says thank you."

"Is that Robin, truly?" Will asked, moving closer, cautious but curious, seeing him on some odd box, the other men gathering round too.

"And my parents," she frowned, "I can't see Aunt Clara, but mum wouldn't be sitting there if she was in danger so she has to be safe…"

"We need to rescue them," Tuck determined, "We shall soon see how those Mechanicals feel about the taste of Nottingham steel! Lord, forgive me."

"I can help with that," Tailor typed something in quickly and the image changed to a blueprint of the castle, taken from some historical records, "Here, it's the castle…hold on," she frowned, tapping a large chamber at the base of the castle, "What's this…" she zoomed in on the image, on the symbols describing it, "A smelting chamber?"

What on Earth would the Sheriff need with a smelting chamber? Well, actually, it DID make sense. He had robots, they would need work done on them, that would need melting and forges and such.

"To fix the robots, maybe?" Tailor guessed, thinking out loud, "The metal men," she offered when the men looked at her confused for the word.

"That would explain all this looting that the Sheriff is doing," Alan remarked, "And yet 'tis only ever gold that he takes. Pearls, rubies, all the precious jewels of the realm seem no consequence to him. Only gold."

"The metal men were certainly NOT made of gold though," Tailor recalled, so…it was for something else then.

"Poor Robin and the strangers lay," Alan began to sing, "In the dungeon all the live-long day. The Merry Men might pine away upon a Sherwood morning. He…"

"Can you not do that, please?" Tailor asked, turning to him, "We need a plan, boys," she was absolutely sure her mother had sent her to the TARDIS to keep her safe and out of danger, but she was not about to leave them there alone when she could help, "Time to be heroes in our own right."

~8~

In the large smelting cavern, the prisoners continued to work under the strict watch of the metal knights, carrying all the gold they could manage to the crucibles for melting. One robot stepped up and tipped one, watching the liquid gold pour into a mold of lines and ridges.

~8~

Clara was calm and collected as she sat at the end of a long table, across from the Sheriff of Nottingham himself, food of all kinds spread out across the wood with candles burning for light as well as a fire roaring in the fireplace. She knew most people would feel threatened, alarmed, worried, to be in the same room alone as the villain of the story. But she felt reassured by Angel's words. The woman would not have let her be taken if she'd sensed any danger and, while she knew the psychic couldn't see everything, she trusted herself as well. She had learned from the Doctor and Angel throughout her time with them and she knew she could handle a fair bit more than she used to. Especially now that her memories of being a Time Lady and a Time Agent seemed to stick out more. She had some training and information available to her that others didn't and she was going to use every advantage she had.

"Eat, my Lady, eat," the Sheriff offered, popping food into his own mouth as he spoke, "Let it not be said that the Sheriff of Nottingham is a poor host."

"I had a bag of crisps this morning, thanks."

"Your words are strange, fair one."

"Hmm, I should think they are."

"But I like you. You are refreshingly...direct."

"You can take the girl out of Blackpool..."

"Taken from your friend's strange tunic," the man held up something wrapped in plastic, placing it down on the table along with a large spoon, "An intriguing gallimaufry. Including...this wand," and the sonic screwdriver too, "Evidently a thing of awesome power. Tell me..." he leaned in, though the effect was minimal given his distance from her, "Are you from beyond the stars?"

Clara leaned back and crossed her arms, "You're the one with the robot army, you tell me."

~8~

"I'm sorry?" the Doctor asked of Robin Hood as the man spoke only moments after Clara had been taken.

"Beat your breast, moan, groan as though 20 devils possessed your guts," he said.

"Why?" Angel frowned and shook her head at him, wondering if something was wrong with him too.

"So as to attract the attention of that guard."

"Why?" she repeated, completely lost.

"The guard will come, thinking one of us ill, and will have to enter the camber to check. Then, we make a grab for the keys! Ha ha!"

"That is…a very interesting plan," Angel offered politely, "But we don't need the keys."

"My dear Lady…"

"Oi!" the Doctor glared at him for the comment, Angel was NOT 'his dear lady.'

"These manacles are not pleasant to keep on for long," Robin ignored him, "I should very much like to be free."

Angel looked at the Doctor, who nodded, and she smiled, "Then let me help."

There was a small flash of gold and the chains holding them down fell to the cell's floor. Robin blinked at that, slowly moving his hands before him, then turning a startled eye to her as he absently rubbed his wrists, "That is a useful trick," he murmured.

Angel gave him a polite nod for that, reaching out to take the hand the Doctor was holding out to her, the Time Lord already on his feet to help her up, "Saved us all quite a bit or arguing too."

That she did not need to see in a vision to know it was to come, especially not with how the Doctor and Robin had gotten into it just moments ago.

"While we may be free of our chains," Robin began, "We still have the door and the guard to conquer."

The Doctor scoffed at that, entwining his fingers with Angel's, "She's just getting started."

Angel smiled and held out a hand to Robin to take, quietly chastising the Doctor in his mind for his mutterings about the man touching his Mate, there wasn't really a way around it.

Robin eyed her hand a moment before tentatively reaching out to take her hand…

~8~

Clara watched, unimpressed, as the Sheriff slowly stood and began to walk towards her, "But enough of tawdry matters," the man was saying, pulling out a dagger and waving it around, "Let us talk of softer...sweeter things," before stabbing a grape with it and eating it.

"Ah," Clara sat up a bit straighter, seeing an in, "Good, yes, I was hoping we'd get round to that."

"You were?"

"Mmm. For I have known I was destined to draw the eye of a great and powerful man for a long time, ever since I saw those mysterious lights in the sky."

"You saw them too?!"

"And those strange mechanical men, with their promises…"

"I, too, have experienced this!"

"Really?" Clara smiled, Angel was certainly right, the man seemed on the verge of just blurting it all out, he just needed a bit more encouragement, "Well, I would never have guessed. Tell me your story."

"Tell me yours."

"Oh, no, no, no, no. But you have to go first," she leaned in a little more to rest her hand on top of the Sheriff's as he held his goblet, flustering him.

"Why so?"

'Because great men always precede."

He grinned, "You have a point."

"Your story, then?"

The Sheriff stood, moving to sit on the arm of Clara's chair, "Once upon a time, there was a brave and clever and handsome man..."

"I can almost picture him. I don't even have to close my eyes."

"…unappreciated by his royal master!" he shouted, slamming his goblet down and moving to the fireplace to gaze into the fire as though brooding.

It was all Clara could do to keep from rolling her eyes as she stood and moved to follow him, needing to play up the part of the interested, sympathetic maiden, "Prince John?"

"The very same."

"Then came the lights in the sky, and everything changed."

"The skyship came to Earth in a fury of fire!"

"I'd almost call it a crash," Clara spoke, doing her best to ignore how he was circling her now, "I remember it well."

"A craft from the heavenly spheres, bedight with twinkling lights and miracles beyond imagining! The most beautiful thing the brave and handsome man had ever seen…" he slowed to a stop, just behind her.

So Clara turned quickly to face him, not trusting an enemy to be at her back, "And I suppose the mechanical men saw you as their natural leader?"

"It was I and I alone to whom the mechanical men then imparted their secrets. Shortly, I shall be the most powerful man in the realm. King in all but name, for Nottingham is not enough."

"It isn't?" Clara asked, a hint of worry in her voice, having hoped it would be like the legends where it all stayed in Sherwood Forest.

"After this...Derby!"

"Right."

"Then...Lincoln. And after Lincoln..."

"Worksop?"

"The world!" he cried, stabbing the table with his dagger.

Clara nodded, "So what are you hanging around here for, then, Your Majesty? Why are you bothering to squeeze the pips out of the peasants if you've got a skyship on stand-by?"

"Enough questions," he waved her off, "I'm impatient to hear your story."

"Oh, but I do not have one," she smirked, giving an easy shrug, "I was lying."

"Lying?"

"Yeah. People are so much better at sharing information if they think the other person has already got it," Clara couldn't help but smile, she felt a bit like what she imagined Angel felt when she knew what the future held. It wasn't completely the same thing, but she felt a little excited that she knew something more than what her enemy did and was able to trick him.

"Oh, that's very clever."

"Thank you."

The Sheriff didn't seem at all angry for her ploy though, leaning in to grin at her instead, "You'll do very well."

"For what?"

"Doesn't every king...require a consort?"

Clara leaned back as the man went in for a kiss, ducking down and out of his way, pointing a finger at him, "Right, you do that again and you'll regret that!"

~8~

"What in god's name…" Robin gasped as he, Angel, and the Doctor appeared in a futuristic metal room in a flash of golden light, "That is a most splendid trick indeed!" he spun in a circle till he was facing Angel, "You are truly an angel of god, my lady, to save us in such a manner…"

"Oi, oi!" the Doctor pointed at him with a warning finger, "No complimenting my Mate. Only I compliment my Mate."

It wasn't completely true, many other people had complimented her in the past, but Robin was just rubbing him the entirely wrong way and he would rather the man keep any comments, complimentary or not, to himself.

"Thank you," Angel offered the outlaw with a kind smile.

The Doctor huffed at that, though not unkindly, turning to look at the place Angel's sensations had taken them. It was a somewhat small room, with a large glowing sphere at the end of it, complete with two consoles facing it.

"Well done, Angel," the Doctor remarked, slowly making his way to the consoles, "At last, something real, no more fairy tales."

"What IS this place?" Robin asked, finally taking in the room instead of the way they'd been transported there.

"A spaceship," Angel answered, "29th century?" she glanced at the Doctor for that, having a feeling but wanting to be sure.

He nodded, "And data banks, data banks, data banks!" he found the entry on the consoles, bringing up a monitor, "Where was this ship headed?"

Angel looked over when he fell quiet, frowning deeply at the reading, and made her way over, leaning beside him to see the destination that had appeared on the screen.

'Destination: The Promised Land.'

Chapter Text

The Doctor frowned as he looked at the screen, "The Promised Land again."

"Just like that Half-Faced Man," Angel murmured, unable to help but feel like the words were starting to follow them like the Bad Wolf had.

"Yes, but more sophisticated. It disguised itself as a 12th-century castle, emerges into the culture, tries to keep a low profile, so no one notices. That explains the robot knights..." he moved to walk around the sphere, eyeing it closely, "But the engines...the engines are damaged. They're leaking radiation into the local atmosphere, creating a temporary climate of staggering benevolence."

"Beg pardon?" Robin shook his head, not following.

"The engines of this ship are making it feel warmer outside," Angel explained to him, seeing that the Doctor wasn't going to. Which wasn't anything very new.

"It's too sunny," the Doctor added, "It's too green. And there is even an evil Sheriff to oppress the locals. This explains everything, even you."

"...it does?" Robin frowned.

"I'm not quite sure about that last one," Angel remarked, glancing over at Robin, she truly couldn't help but feel like he was not part of this.

"But it makes sense," the Doctor argued, starting to walk around Robin, "What does every oppressed peasant workforce need? The illusion of hope. Some silly story to get them through the day, lull them into docility, and keep them working. Ship's data banks. Full of every myth and legend you could hope for, including...Robin Hood," he turned and pushed a button, bringing up illustrations and information about Robin Hood, even going so far as to reach into the future and display actors that were part of plays and movies based on the character, "Isn't it time you came clean with us?"

Angel carefully watched Robin's face and expression as he looked upon the screen, his entire countenance radiating his confusion, how he didn't know what to make of all of this. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, feeling his existential crisis as though it were her own, questioning his very existence. Whether he was a robot or not, or part of this story or not, he was still the hero of it. He still had a purpose and a role to play, he still had thought and feeling and heart.

"You're not real and you know it!" the Doctor continued, not seeming to notice Robin's struggle, "Look at you, perfect eyes, perfect teeth. Nobody has a jawline like that! You're as much a part of what is happening here as the Sheriff and his metal knights! You're a robot!"

"You dare to accuse me of collusion with that villain, the Sheriff?" Robin turned to face him, glaring at the implication, not seeming to react to anything else the Doctor has said about his true existence other than the fact the Doctor seemed to think he would ever work with his enemy.

"I dare!"

"Doctor!" Angel cut in with a firm tone to her voice as she gave him a hard look to stop, "If this is all a story, then the Sheriff is part of it too," her look turned pointed at that, "And the Sheriff is now, and will always be, the greatest enemy of Robin Hood. There is no programming in the world that would ever have him work alongside the Sheriff, and that's if he is actually a robot at all. I don't think he is."

Before the Doctor could respond to that, lasers fired from just outside and the door they had entered through exploded, landing on the floor just before them. The Doctor immediately strode forward, moving in front of Angel to protect her, "Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Two robotic Knights entered the room, followed closely by the Sheriff of Nottingham, who was dragging Clara with him by the arm, "Surrender, outlaw!" the Sheriff demanded.

The Doctor eyed the Sheriff for a moment, nodding to himself as Angel's words began to make sense to him, if Robin Hood was part of the story then so was the Sheriff in a very literal sense, "Very good."

"Kill him. Kill Robin Hood!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes even as the robots began to advance, "You can drop all that stuff now, Sheriff."

Clara frowned, "Doctor?"

"He is not what you think he is," the Doctor warned her, the whether he was speaking about the Sheriff or Robin or both, Angel didn't know, "This is all play-acting."

"We can't just let them kill him!" Clara shouted as Robin tried to escape from the robots, backing up across the room towards a window just as she managed to pull herself out of the Sheriff's hold and go help him.

But the Doctor was more focused on the Sheriff and keeping himself in front of Angel and her out of his sight, "You're not fooling anyone, Sheriff."

One of the robots fired their laser and a golden wall went up around the humans and Time Lords, bouncing the laser off of it and back towards the robot, disintegrating it. Robin reached out and grabbed hold of Clara, pulling her tightly towards him as he stepped back to the open window.

"What the hell are you doing?" Clara gasped.

"Surviving," Robin told her, before letting himself fall backwards and out of the window, taking Clara with him.

"Clara!" Angel gasped, rushing to the window and swishing her arm out in front of her, her back to the Doctor in the Sheriff so neither could see the golden energy that rushed out of her hand. It swirled around Clara and Robin as they fell, teleporting them away before they could even hit the water of the moat that surrounded the castle.

'Clara?' Angel heard the Doctor asking her mind.

'Safe,' Angel responded, slowly turning to face them.

"Yeah..." the Sheriff drawled, drawing their attention back to him, "Sorry about the girl, such a pretty thing. What a queen she would've made."

"Stop pretending," the Doctor called out, stalling the Sheriff from leaving the room, "You and your fancy robots. I get it, I understand."

"Oh, so you, too, know my plans?"

"My Mate is psychic," the Doctor rolled his eyes, even if Angel hadn't actually had a vision of what was coming, he was sure she had some sort of feeling or some notion by now, even so it didn't really take a psychic to work out what someone was a robotic army would be trying to do or conquer, "But even if she wasn't, your plan is so obvious. You and your robots plundering the surrounding countryside for all it's worth. Gold, gold, gold. You are creating a matrix of gold to repair the engine circuitry!"

"This is the scheme the Mechanicals have devised," the Sheriff agreed, "Soon this skyship will depart. Destination...London. There I will obliterate the King and take my rightful place as ruler of this sceptered isle!"

Angel frowned as she listened to the man speak, he didn't sound as though he even realized he was a robot. For she was sure now that the sensation she was getting off of the man matched same as she had been getting off the robotic knights. She sent a look at the Doctor for that, silently telling him in his mind her suspicions. She was certain the Sheriff, at least, WAS a robot, he just didn't seem to know it.

He gave a small nod, noticing the same thing. If the man didn't realize he was a robot, the worst thing they could do would be to alert him to that fact now. They would have to go along with the role that the Sheriff seemed to be playing in this story. Humans, or someone who thought they were human, could be easily manipulated, a robot not so much.

"It won't work," the Doctor warned him, "There's not a chance. We've seen the instruments. There's been too much damage. You are stoking up a gigantic bomb!"

"Doctor!" Angel gasped and he spun around see a robot about to attack him from behind, before there was a flash of light and he and Angel disappeared...

~8~

The Doctor quickly looked around as he and Angel reappeared in what seemed to be a large smelting chamber. He took her hand and they quickly ducked to the side, behind an alcove, watching as two robots walked past, carrying a giant golden circuit between them.

"Engine capacity at 48 percent," one of the robots was saying, "Engine capacity at 48 percent."

"It's not enough," Angel murmured, frowning at she looked at the circuit, a pit growing in her stomach that she'd come to associate with something having a very bad outcome.

The Doctor nodded, holding her hand tightly, "It'll never make orbit. That's the engines...building in power. Stupid, stupid Sheriff!" he sighed and rubbed his head, turning to look to Angel, "We already knew that though, so why did we appear here?"

Angel just looked around, letting her senses guide her to the reason she had instinctively brought them there, before pointing at a young woman who was trying to help an older lady, "Her."

The Doctor nodded, trusting her feeling implicitly, "Well let's go make an introduction."

~8~

Clara gasped has she and Robin landed in a heap on the forest floor, just outside of his camp.

"Drat," a voice spoke beside them, and they both turned their heads to see Tailor standing there with MK9 at her feet, wagging his tail, and the Merry Men behind her, the men staring at them in awe.

"What?" Clara shook her head.

Tailor just sighed, "I guessed you'd be here 2 minutes from now," she told her aunt, before smiling, "I'm getting better at this!" she looked down at the two still lying on the ground, "We'll come on you two, up and at 'em, we have a castle to storm."

This time it was Robin who shook his head, "What?"

~8~

Angel kept a firm lookout from the alcove she and the Doctor had pulled the young woman into as she passed, making sure that the knights hadn't noticed her disappearance or heard the Doctor explaining the situation to her.

"I think I understand you," the woman spoke slowly but quietly, "The Sheriff's using the gold to replace something?"

"That's the principle," the Doctor nodded, "But he's a moron. If he tries to fly his ship, it'll explode and wipe out half the country. What we need...is a little riot. Time to reflect on lasers and gold. Spread the word."

"I will," she promised.

Angel smiled back at her, "Thank you, Marian."

~8~

"You realize your parents are going to kill me if I let you do this," Clara muttered to Tailor as they walked through the woods, heading for the castle.

"You realize the Sheriff could kill my parents if we don't do this," Tailor countered.

Clara rolled her eyes, "They're fighting the Sheriff of Nottingham, he loses in almost every story."

They paused when Robin reached out to grab Clara by the arm and turn her to face him gently, "Do you know about this Robin Hood story?" he asked, but Clara's hesitating glance over at Tailor gave him the answer, "Please, tell me everything you know about Robin Hood and his Merry Men."

Clara frowned, "What is this? Why are you interrogating me?"

"Please," he looked between the two women, "I know there is something foul afoot with the Sheriff and the Doctor seems to think I am in someway connected to it. I need to know why. And then...I need to know who this Doctor is and what are his plans...and how a man like that ended up with an Angel as a wife."

Tailor smirked at that, "How dad ended up with mum? It's long and complicated, a lot of wibbly wobbly timey wimey things going on, we don't have enough time to tell it. But..." she glanced at Clara, who seemed quite hopeful to be able to tell the man about the legend he'd become, and her mind drifted to a story her father had told her once about Vincent Van Gogh and how they'd given him a glimpse into his future and his fame, and nodded, "We can tell you about Robin Hood at least."

~8~

Angel and Marian made a show of tending to the Doctor as he crouched down with a small blanket over his shoulders, playing up himself as though he were one of the prisoners who was just so weak he couldn't work any longer, waiting until one of the robots approach them.

"You are unfit for labor," it stated, "Stand aside while this peasant unit is freed."

"I'm afraid you're a little late," the Doctor began even as Marian tensed, knowing that the robots seemed to think 'free' meant free from life.

"Explain."

"I'm already free!" he shouted, grabbing a golden tray from under his blanket and standing, using it to reflect the robot's laser back at it.

Marian did the same with a golden tray of her own, aiming a little bit higher and knocking the robot's head right off its shoulders, causing it to collapse to the ground.

"This way!" Angel shouted, leading them towards the doorway, but more robots stepped in the way.

The Doctor grabbed Angel's hand, seeing the Vortex beginning to swirl in her eyes, knowing she was ready to use it to defend them if necessary, but he didn't think it would be needed. For all around them the prisoners were holding up golden trays and other flat objects, ready to defend themselves and reflect the lasers back at the robots, causing the riot they so desperately needed to distract the Sheriff.

~8~

The Sheriff stood before a large map of England spread out on a table in his chambers, marking off countries he wanted to conquer, "Mine, mine, mine."

One of robotic knights that stood gathered in the room made a report, "Engine capacity at 75 percent."

The Sheriff had only just begun to grin at that...when an alarm sounded. He moved over to a screen on the table and activated it, looking through the mystical window it created into the smelting chamber, to see the prisoners rioting and taking out his robotic knights, led by the Doctor and Angel, "'Sblood! Who will rid me of these turbulent foes?!" he let out a snarl of anger and turned to punch one of the robots standing there, shaking his hand as pain raced through it, causing him to clench his teeth, "Come!" he turned to storm out of the room with the robotic knights following.

~8~

Angel pulled the Doctor down to avoid a blast from a mechanical knight, all the prisoners holding up their trays to deflect the blasts, taking out every knight they could until there was only one left.

"Everyone, the last one!" the Doctor called when he noticed it. All of the prisoners circled the robot as it tried to fire at them. But the laser ricocheted off of a number of different tray before it finally hit the robot and caused it to explode, to the cheers and shouts of the prisoners.

"Now get out!" Angel ushered them, gesturing to the doors around them, urging them forward, "Go, go, run! Now, quickly!"

"You've saved us all," Marian stopped by them, "Thank you!" before she rushed off to make sure the others got out safe.

"Engine capacity at 82 percent," a mechanical voice of a robot spoke behind them, and they turned to see the Sheriff striding in with two knights on either side of him.

"You are indeed an ingenious fellow, Doctor," the Sheriff remarked, "But do you really think your peasants' revolt can stop me?"

The Doctor snorted at that, "I rather think you're the revolting one around here. But, then again, I think almost everyone besides my Mate and daughter are revolting. You just take the cake. Banter! I'm bantering!"

"You cannot launch that ship into space," Angel tried to warn him, "There's not enough gold to fix your engines. If your lunch now, you could kill everyone."

"Liar!" the Sheriff snarled as he picked up a fallen knight's head, "From my sky vessel, I shall rule omnipotent."

"You pudding-headed primitive!" the Doctor huffed, "What was so complicated about what my Mate said? Shut down the engines."

"If you go through with this, you'll be altering the course of history!" Angel agreed.

But the Sheriff just smirked sinisterly, "I sincerely hope so. Or I wouldn't be bothering," and turned to toss the robotic head into a fire, signaling for the others to advance.

The Doctor looked at Angel, knowing she could destroy all of the knights and the Sheriff with just the snap of her finger, but she shook her head, 'The humans aren't out of the castle yet,' she warned him in his mind, 'We need to stall a little longer.'

'I was hoping you wouldn't say that,' he sighed in her mind, but gave a nod and turned to the Sheriff, going along with the man's act as though he wasn't a robot and still a human to be reasoned with, "Listen to me! It doesn't have to end like this. Shut it all down..." a thought for how to stall him further hit him, "Return Clara to us, and we'll do what we can."

The Sheriff absently prodded the burning head with his sword, "I don't have Clara."

"But Robin's one of yours!" the Doctor argued.

'But he's not,' Angel stated once more, now sure of herself, 'I sense the Sheriff the same as the knights, but not Robin.'

The Doctor nodded, having come to that conclusion off her words earlier, this was merely a way to stall the Sheriff a little bit more. Confuse him, argue with him, and make himself seem a little foolish so the Sheriff would grow overconfident and make a mistake.

"What did you say?" the Sheriff rounded on them.

"He's one of your tin-headed puppets, just like these brutes here."

"Robin Hood is not one of mine."

"Of course he is. He's a robot, created by your mechanical mates."

"Why would they do that?"

The Doctor blinked at that, lost for an explanation as to why the robots would actually build someone to oppose them, "...to pacify the locals? Give them false hope? He's the opiate of the masses."

"Why would we create an enemy to fight us?" the Sheriff voiced the flaw the Doctor just realized, "What sense would that make? That would be a terrible idea."

"Yes, yes, it would!" he sighed to himself, seeing that his plan to stall the man with talk of Robin Hood was not working out quite the way he hoped. Oh well, next step in stalling: ramble, "Wouldn't it? Yes, that would be a rubbish idea. Why would you do that? But he can't be...he's not real. He's a legend!"

"Too kind!" a voice called out, as the legend himself appeared up on top of a small balcony on the floor above, "And this legend does not come alone!"

"Hiya!" Clara called out as she appeared on his other side.

Robin pulled Clara to him, winding his arm around her waist as he reached out and drove a dagger into a banner hanging off the wall nearby. The two of them jumped off the balcony, using the dagger to slow their descent as they both reached the floor in one piece.

"You alright?" Robin checked on her quickly.

"Hell, yeah!"

"Good!" he gave her a wink, before he pulled his dagger from the banner and threw it right at the Sheriff, who dodged out of the way, but Robin used the moment of distraction to pull his sword on the man and approach, "My Men have taken the castle. You should be proud Doctor!" he called over to the Time Lords, "The girl he is quite the clever leader."

"...Clara?" the Doctor turned a pointed, narrow-eyed look at the women.

"She's with the men," Clara smiled at them, knowing he was concerned about where Tailor was, "She's the one who devised the plan to take over the castle, like father like daughter."

"No!" the Sheriff snarled.

"Now I'm going to take you," Robin warned.

"This one's all mine!" the Sheriff cried, shutting down the robots so that he could face Robin on his own, "What do you say, outlaw? A final reckoning?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Are you ok, Clara?" Angel asked as Clara ran over to them, Robin keeping the Sheriff distracted by facing the man down.

"Fine, yeah," she nodded, though her attention was fixed on Robin.

"Good," the Doctor said, "We don't have long. You're sure Tailor's not in the castle? She didn't sneak in after you?" If it was like father like daughter, it was certainly something HE would have done...and had done...repeatedly...

"No," Clara reassured them, "She made it a point to be the one helping guide to prisoners to safety, just like her mum," she nudged Angel for that one.

"We're going to have to speak to her about wandering off," the Doctor muttered, though he felt his hearts slow down from how they'd been racing at the knowledge that his daughter was outside and away from the danger.

"At least she wandered with Clara," Angel pointed out, not pleased that Tailor had left the TARDIS, but relieved she'd been with her Aunt.

"How is that better?"

"Oi!" Clara poked the Doctor in the ribs for that remark.

"I shall avenge every slight, outlaw!" the Sheriff shouted, drawing their attention back over to the sword fight, even as the ground rumbled around them.

"Doctor..." Clara began, looking down at the floor with a furrowed brow, "Not good, is it?"

"The whole castle's about to blow," he said.

"You have long been a thorn in my side!" the Sheriff continue to speak.

"Well, everyone should have a hobby," Robin taunted, "Mine's annoying you."

"I'll have you boiled in oil at the castle by sunset."

"Can we make it a little earlier? Cos that's a little past my bedtime!" Robin turned and cut a rope hanging beside him, grabbing onto another one and using it to lift him up above the others, onto a beam that crossed just over one of the bubbling crucibles.

"I'm too much for you, outlaw! The first of a new breed. Half man, half engine!" the Sheriff told him, cutting a different rope and using it to follow him up, not about to end their fight so easily, "Never ageing...never tiring..."

"Well," Angel murmured, taking in the man's words, "I suppose he DID know he was a robot then."

"Are you still talking?" Robin continued to taunt the Sheriff.

The Sheriff let out a growl and lunged forward, managing to cut Robin's arm, causing him to drop his sword to the floor below.

Robin followed its fall with his eyes, glancing over at where the Time Lords and Clara were standing. His attention was caught by Angel, who was taking a step forward and lifting her hand, he couldn't help but shake his head, knowing she was about to do something to help him with her strange golden magic, but having a plan of his own in mind. He glanced over at the Doctor and smirked, turning to face the Sheriff once more...and opening his arms wide, just as the Doctor had when they first dueled.

"Bow down before your new king, you prince of knaves!" the Sheriff commanded, before rushing at Robin once more, but the thief implemented the same trick the Doctor had, managing to knock the Sheriff off the beam...falling right into the crucible of melted gold.

Robin cast only one look down at the bubbling mass before making his way over to a rope and sliding down to the floor, "Sorry," he offered the trio with a smirk, even as he approached holding his wounded arm, "Was that, er, was that showing off?"

"That was amazing!" Clara cheered.

Angel opened her mouth to offer to heal Robin's arm, but the ground began to rumble even worse, causing a section of the ceiling to fall around them, "Hold on!" she called, reaching out to touch the Doctor and Clara by the arm, Clara latching onto Robin Hood as they all disappeared in a swirl of gold...

~8~

The small group reappeared in a flash of light just on the other side of the moat around the castle, watching as the peasants fled from the building, Tailor and the Merry Men bringing up the rear with MK9 just before the castle fell apart. Tailor ran straight to her parents, hugging them tightly with a wide grin on her face. She was about to say something when the ground shook terribly and a loud noise sounded. She turned in their arms to see one of the towers rising into the air, revealing it to be a spaceship.

Angel shook her head as she watched it struggle to fly, "It won't make it..."

"It was never going to," the Doctor agreed solemnly, "Not enough gold. It'll never make it into orbit."

"Will this help?" Tailor asked, holding up the Golden Arrow that Friar Tuck had nicked in the first attack.

"Brilliant!" the Doctor leaned over to quickly kiss Tailor on the top of her head, moving to one of the Merry Men and grabbing a bow off of them.

"Doctor, what are you suggesting?" Clara had to ask, slightly confused.

"Golden arrow. It might just be enough gold content to get the ship into orbit and out of harm's way," he turned, offering both to Robin.

But the man shook his head, "It has to be you. My arm is injured."

"I can heal it," Angel offered, stepping up.

"I fear, my lady, it will not be done with enough time to spare," Robin frowned.

The Doctor tried to aim the arrow himself, but fumbled with it quite clumsily.

"You're good at this!" Clara gave him an odd look, "I saw you! You won the tournament!"

"He cheated," Tailor revealed, "Dad always cheats, he's almost as bad as Uncle Jack. Mum's the honest one, remember?"

"I made a special arrow with a homing device," the Doctor agreed.

"I've never fired an arrow before," Clara told them, "I can't do it. Tailor?"

Tailor gave her a look, "You really think Dad would let me touch anything pointy?"

Angel hesitated, glancing up at the ship and back at the others, "I might be able to help."

~8~

Two robots stood in front of a control panel on the ship, steadily keeping track of the rising levels, "Engine capacity at 83 percent," one reported.

"Insufficient power to achieve escape velocity," the other stated.

~8~

Angel took a deep breath as she held the arrow in her hands, before closing her eyes and letting the Vortex drift over the weapon. Her eyes opened a moment later, swirling with gold, and she looked up at the ship, the arrow seeming to follow her gaze, and flying itself right into the air after the ship. They watched as the golden energy seemed to send it higher and higher, until it pierced right into the hull of the ship to the cheers of the humans below as it accelerated its rise.

~8~

"Maximum power surge!" one of the robots reported.

"Engines critical!" the second shouted too, just as the ship left Earth's atmosphere and reached to space, "Engines critical. Engines crit..."

Only to explode moments later.

~8~

Robin and his Merry Men cheered as they watched the ship obliterate itself, knowing they had vanquished the villain of the story.

"One awful day in Nottingham," Alan began to sing, "Brave Robin Hood was in a jam, the arrow flew it true..."

But Will stepped over and grabbed the lute from Alan's hand, "Give it a rest, Alan."

"Give me my lute!" Alan cried as he chased after Will, to the amusement of the others.

Clara looked over to where the Doctor was watching the sky with a small frown on his face, "Still not keen on the laughing thing?"

"No, no, no, no," the Doctor answered.

Clara rolled her eyes, taking Tailor's hand and rushing off with the girl into the forest to celebrate with the Merry Men, MK9 trundling after them.

The Doctor sighed and looked over at Angel, the women still staring up at the sky with a frown on her own face. He stepped closer to her and pulled her into his arms to give her tight hug, whispering into her ear, "They weren't like the Half-Faced Man," he reminded her, "They didn't feel anything."

Angel just closed her eyes and returned his hug tighter.

~8~

Clara smiled as she stood before a target near the Mary Men's camp, Robin behind her, helping to correct her stance and her aim, giving her a private archery lesson from the master himself. She couldn't help but squeal and jump in place a little bit when her arrow hit the target, turning to give him a tight hug in thanks, "I'm going to miss you," she told man, "You're very naughty."

"I know," he replied with a wink, before offering her his arm and walking her back towards the TARDIS, "Whoever he is...he is a very lucky man."

"Marian is very lucky, too."

"I fear not."

"Don't give up. Not ever, not for one single day," Clara leaned in to kiss him on the cheek for luck, "Be safe, if you can be. But always be amazing. Goodbye, Robin Hood."

"Goodbye, Clara Oswald."

Clara gave him one more smile, before she stepped into the TARDIS to see Angel and Tailor already inside, Tailor sharing their latest adventure with the old box. She glanced behind her in the doorway to see the Doctor approaching and stepped in fully.

"So, is it true, Doctor?" Robin asked as the Doctor approached.

"Is what true?"

"That in the future I am forgotten as a real man? I am but a legend?"

"I'm afraid it is."

"Good. History is a burden. Stories can make us fly."

"I'm still having a little trouble believing yours, I'm afraid."

"Is it so hard to credit? That a man born into wealth and privilege should find the plight of the oppressed and weak too much to bear..."

"No..."

"...until one night, he is moved to steal a TARDIS, fly among the stars, fighting the good fight, with his love and his daughter at his side, guiding his way?" he smirked at the startled look on the Doctor's face, "Clara told me your stories," the girl had been quite talkative about the Time Lords once the danger of the Sheriff had been dealt with.

"She should not have told you any of that."

"Well...once the story started, she could hardly stop herself. You are her hero, I think. What's more you are family."

"I'm not a hero," the Doctor shook his head.

Robin smirked, "But you do not deny you're family. It is no matter, I am no hero either. But if we both keep pretending to be...ha ha! Perhaps others will be heroes in our name. Perhaps we will both be stories. And may those stories never end," he reached out to shake the Doctor's hand, "Goodbye, Doctor, Time Lord of Gallifrey, Mate of the Angel and father of the Tailor."

The Doctor actually smiled at the last two, "Goodbye, Robin Hood, Earl of Loxley, love of Marian."

Robin's smile, however, faltered on the one last one, "And remember, Doctor...I'm just as real as you are."

The Doctor merely stepped into the TARDIS, shutting the doors behind him and turning, only to be immediately attacked by his daughter as she pulled him into a tight hug.

"You're my hero, dad," she murmured into his chest as he hugged her back, "And I'll have no arguments from you about it."

"Well, who am I to argue with a psychic-in-training," he lightly chuckled.

"Admit it," Clara called as the Doctor and Tailor made their way up to the console, Angel already putting in the coordinates for Clara's home, "You like him."

The Doctor sighed, "Well, I'm leaving him a present, aren't I?"

Tailor scoffed at that, "I think you mean MUM is leaving him a present," she nudged him in the side as Angel pulled a lever to start the dematerialization process even as the Doctor rolled his eyes.

~8~

Robin smiled, watching the TARDIS begin to fade, pulling a locket out from under his tunic and opening it to look at a miniature of his Marian. He looked up as the box was completely gone...to see her standing there, right in front of him, just on the other side of where the box had been!

"Robin?" she gasped, "I've found you at last!"

Robin could only stare, stunned, for a moment, "Marian?" before running right for her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her deeply as the Merry Men cheered around him. He let out a whooping laugh when his men came to welcome Marian themselves, rushing over to jump on top of a fallen log, shouting up to the sky and the stars, "Thank you! Thank you, my friends!"

He pulled out his bow and arrow, firing one into the sky in tribute, laughing heartily before turning to jump off of the log to pull Marian into his arms once more.

~8~

Angel smiled as she stepped out of the small changing room into the bedroom she shared with the Doctor, "I am glad to be out of that gown," she remarked, taking a nice deep breath.

The Doctor frowned at the motion, "It wasn't a corseted one, was it?" he asked, not entirely certain. While he had noticed the dress at first, a lot of her costumes were often outshined by just how lovely she was in general. He couldn't quite remember the finer details of the dress, just that she had looked beautiful in it.

"No," Angel agreed, moving over to sit on the edge of the bed where he was sitting against the headboard, "I did try one of the corseted ones on, but I don't think this body appreciates being stuffed into something and tied up," she looked down at herself, "The one I wore was the loosest one I could find that didn't make me feel uncomfortable and still fit the era," she smiled as she looked at him again, "I think my poncho has spoiled me."

He let out a chuckle at that, though it faded away when he noticed the thoughtful look she was giving him, "What?"

"You laughed just now," she commented, "I love your laugh."

"I love yours too, and Tailor's, of course."

"Why didn't you like Robin's?" she wondered, "Laughter is such a wonderful thing to express, but you seemed...out of sorts on this trip."

He let out a soft breath at her words, unable to deny what she was saying. It was a delicate way of putting exactly how we had felt affecting him during this trip. It was something he had noticed while he and Robin had been bickering in the cell. Something he was only just realizing had crept up on him even during earlier adventures in this body, it just seemed that Robin brought it out more.

"Yes, this trip didn't seem to agree with me."

Angel reached out and touched his hand, "Theta...are you alright?" she repeated the question she had asked him in the cell, "We had adventures with other humans, yet you've never reacted the way you did with Robin to them."

The Doctor was quiet and thoughtful as he pondered her statement, thinking back to the last few adventures they had had with humans, and why this one had bothered him so much.

"I wasn't myself that first time," he spoke, pausing slightly every so often to try to put words to what he was thinking, "And then there was a Dalek, and it was all about a mission, the humans who came with us were all about the mission too, they were professional and focused but this time..." he shook his head, "They were just humans being human," he frowned at the thought, "They irritated me."

"They irritated the first you I traveled with too," she reminded him, "But you were never quite so...short-tempered."

"I'm not that man anymore," he said simply, "I suppose this me just doesn't appreciate humans as much as the other mes did."

"From stupid apes to pudding brains, then?" Angel tried to offer him a smile, a tease, wanting to make him feel better than the tone she heard in his voice. It sounded as though he were saddened to find that humans were not as awe-inspiring now as they had been to him in the past.

"That is one way to put it," he mused, "I just don't have the patience anymore. I think Christmas used the last of it."

"You've been plenty patient with Kitta and me," she remarked.

"I just don't have the patience for humans anymore," he corrected, "All those centuries trapped in that one place with nothing but humans around us day in and day out..." he shook his head, actually shuddering at the thought, "It's almost like I don't want to be around more humans, I want something different I want something new. But, at the same time, all I really want is just you and Kitta, all of us together, as a family, having adventures and seeing the wonders of the Universe."

Angel nodded slowly, understanding what he was trying to say, "You feel like we stole those moments from Kitta," she realized, feeling that through their bond as well, "By keeping her on Christmas all those centuries, we kept her from seeing the world during those years she was growing up."

"I want to give my daughter, my family, everything I can," the Doctor murmured, "And I feel like I sacrificed that for the humans. I don't want to make any more sacrifices, this is a new chance, a new beginning, a new cycle. I don't want to waste anymore of it."

"I understand," Angel told him, reaching out to gently touch his cheek, stroking it with her thumb, "You have always given up so much, Theta, you deserve to be able to spend the time you have however you want."

"Thank you," he spoke quietly, grateful that his Mate knew him so well and didn't think less of him for how he was feeling. It seemed this version of him was just a little more selfish. He couldn't bring himself to truly care as much about the humans or their feelings as he did about his family. It was like she had said when she first remarked about his face, family came first.

"We are going to have to work on being a bit more polite to the humans we may encounter, though," she told him with a gentle smile, "Our extended family has quite a few humans in it, an Ocean of Ponds," she reminded him, earning a small chuckle from him, "It would break Kitta's heart if you were distant with them. And she loves humans in general, as do I, and perhaps you may rediscover what you found so remarkable about them. But, until then, keep in mind they are conscious beings, with thought and emotion, they will get scared and they won't be quite as fast or as clever as you, but that doesn't make them lesser beings. They deserve respect just for existing, yeah?"

"I'll try," was all he could offer, nodding that he understood. He didn't want to treat the humans poorly, it was almost like he didn't realize when he was, because they weren't his family.

Angel seemed to pick up on that though, "And I'll be right beside you the whole time, ready to apologize whenever you're rude."

The Doctor laughed, "Just like old times then."

Angel laughed as well, moving more onto the bed and letting him pull her down into his arms, the two settling down for the night after the experience they'd had.

Chapter Text

He was regenerating, the orange glow surrounding his hands, bursting out of him from every angle, his head thrown back from the sheer force of it. He was standing in the TARDIS, Angel and Tailor and Clara a few feet away, far enough that they wouldn't be affected by the regenerative energy. He had said goodbye to them, he had had a chance to say goodbye in his dying body, and soon a new man would be there with them. A new him to call Angel his Mate, and Tailor his daughter. He looked over at them, forcing his eyes open, not wanting anything but them to be the last thing he saw. But something to the side drew his attention, there was another figure standing just near the doors.

His heart began to race, he struggled as much as he could to turn away, to look away from the Silent that was standing there. It was as though Angel and the others didn't even notice the creature, but HE did. He could feel its rasping voice echoing in his mind, issuing him a command, knowing that the regeneration would cause him to look away and the post hypnotic suggestion would stick. He couldn't let it, he couldn't let them make him forget Angel again, he couldn't put her through that pain and sorrow and hurt, he had to resist, he had to...

The Doctor gasped deeply as he jolted up in bed, frantically looking around as though expecting the Silent to be there. It was a nightmare, it was just a dream, it hasn't happened again. He look to the side and Angel was there, his Mate, he remembered her, he remembered her and Clara and Tailor, there hadn't been any Silent near him when he regenerated last. But it was as though his mind and his heart hadn't quite gotten that memo as they began racing, his hands trembling, a sweat breaking out as he nearly scrambled trying to get out of the bed only to pull his feet back onto the mattress moments later, and quickly ducking down, have hanging over the side of the bed to look under the frame of it. He would not be caught unaware this time!

"...Theta?" Angel's sleepy voice called from behind him.

He quickly pulled himself back onto the bed and rolled over to see her starting to wake up, whether it was from feeling the utter terror that had shot through him or from all the the moving around he was doing, he didn't know. But she was starting to wake up and that wasn't what he wanted.

Normally Angel would shoot up almost as suddenly as he did, thrown out of her dreams by her connection to his mind, pulled along with him into consciousness. But the last few adventures he had been on with her and Tailor had been quite straining, and Angel seemed a little more exhausted whenever they went to bed. She slept longer and took a bit more to wake when she was deeply dreaming.

"Wassrong?" Angel began to mumble, almost trying to pull herself up onto herr elbows to look over at him, her eyes still half-lidded as it was clear to him she was still quite tired.

"Nothing," he whispered to her quickly and quietly, reaching out to brush his hand through her hair, cupping her cheek to stroke it, hoping it would lull her back to sleep, "Nothing, it's nothing, just a dream, you go back to sleep."

"Are you sure?" she asked, though she had already laid back down, moving her one hand to hold his as it rested on her cheek, not wanting to go back to sleep if he was truly not well.

He smiled at her, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of her temple, "I'm sure," he crossed his hearts in promise, "I think it was that banana I ate before we went to sleep, odd dreams you know. I'll just get some milk and I'll be just fine."

"Ok," Angel sighed, snuggling a bit more into her pillow as she rested again.

His smile turned fond at how sleepy she was, "Do you want anything while I'm in the kitchens? Any food? Drink?"

"Um...pickles," she began to mumble, already drifting, "And ketchup."

The Doctor just barely managed to refrain from laughing audibly at her words, she had quite interesting thoughts when she was half asleep. But he would be sure to bring her back her pickles and ketchup if only to have a laugh when she woke up and wondered why they were sitting on her bedside table.

He carefully got out of bed, moving to pull their blankets up just a little bit more, making sure she was snug, before he turned to his bedside table, opening one of the drawers and rummaging through it as quietly as he could. As soon as he found what he was looking for, he began to make his way out of the room, tiptoeing almost exaggeratedly to make sure he wouldn't make a noise to wake her again. As he reached the door that would lead to the hallway he opened it and squeezed through the crack, not wanting to let too much light into the room. Before he closed the door, however, he brought the item he taken from the table and pressed it against his eye, quickly looking over the room to make sure it was secure before he shut the door, silently asking the TARDIS to lock it behind him for extra safety.

He turned around, his back pressing flat against the door as he looked slowly down one hallway and to the other, making sure that he was noticing everything. He began to make his way down one hall, heading for the kitchens, just as he had told Angel he would. He passed through the console room on the way, though, to make sure that was secure as well, that they were still drifting in space and safe. He checked a program that Angel had created for the TARDIS, an alert system for very specific species that they did not want entering the TARDIS at any point. It was still showing no presence from such company and he let out a relief breath at that, continuing on in his path to the kitchen.

He technically could have gone anywhere else in the TARDIS, the library, the swimming pool, anywhere to try and catch his breath from his dream, but he had told Angel he was going to the kitchen and he hated to lie to her in any form. If he went to the kitchen, it wouldn't be a lie. And the more he thought about it, the more warm milk really did sound like exactly what he needed after the nightmare he just had. He hadn't had many nightmares, not like after Angel and Tailor had regenerated, he had managed to grow past them while they had been on Christmas. But every so often one would sneak its way in.

He sighed to himself, scratching the side of his head as he entered the kitchen and moved straight to the refrigerator, rummaging through it in search for the milk. He frowned when he couldn't find any, he was sure they had just bought some. The last time they've been on Earth with Clara they had stopped to get some of their favorite Earth goodies, the best milk in the Universe was that of Earth.

"Looking for this?" a familiar voice spoke behind him.

Despite knowing who it was, and despite the fact that he was reasonably sure he had sensed the girl in the room when he had entered it, he still nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard his daughter speak. He spun around to face her, his hand flying up on instinct to snatch the object off of his eye so she wouldn't see it. But judging by the look on her face, she pretty much had.

"Why are you wearing Kovarian's eye drive?" Tailor asked from where she was sitting at the kitchen table with a small cup of tea in her hand, a container of milk just beside her, alone as MK9 was in her room, recharging from the last few adventures.

"What? No? Sorry? Eye drive?"

"Dad," Tailor cut in, giving him a look, "I may not have been with her long, but I do remember what the eye drives look like," she frowned as she remembered exactly what the eye drives were needed for and felt herself stiffen in fear at the implication, "...are the Silence in the TARDIS?"

"No!" he told her quickly, moving to sit at the table with her, reaching out to take her hand, knowing that much like he disliked Daleks and Angel disliked Cybermen, his daughter disliked the Silence for everything they had done to her and them, knowing she was more than a little frightened of them too, "No, Kitta, I checked, there are no Silence in the TARDIS, the alarms haven't gone off, the sensors haven't picked them up, they're not registering on the eye drive. We're safe, I promise," he crossed his hearts for extra emphasis.

"But then why are you wearing that?" Tailor had to ask, trying to keep her voice from shaking though it didn't quite work, it was very difficult to keep anything from her parents.

The Doctor let out a long sigh, knowing that, much like her mother, his daughter would know if he lied to her. And he felt no desire to ever do such a thing in the first place, "I had a dream," he told her slowly, trying to place his words so as not to give away too much, but also not to worry her, "Of the Silence, when I regenerated. I just needed to make sure, peace of mind."

"Oh," Tailor let out a relieved breath and smiled at her father, "Ok, that's good. I mean, not good that you had a nightmare, they're never fun, but good that there's no Silence running around Aunt Idris, right?"

"Right," he smiled at her...when he realized something, "What are you doing up young lady? You should be sleeping, not having tea at..." he looked at his wrist as though there would be a watch there, but there wasn't, "Sleep time."

Tailor laughed at his words, "I dunno," she shrugged, "I was sleeping, but I woke up to go get Aslan," the Doctor smiled fondly at the mention of the stuffed lion she'd had since she was a child, "I knocked him off the bed. It's stupid but, for a second I thought something was hiding under it, grabbed my ankle, but there was nothing there. Just my imagination going, thought this," she lifted her teacup, "Might help calm me down a little bit to get back to sleep."

The Doctor's fond smile began to fade at her words, for he was quite certain HE had experienced that exact same thing just moments after he had woken up as well. It couldn't be a coincidence, it couldn't be, not in the TARDIS. He quickly got to his feet, hurrying out of room, needing to be certain.

Tailor could only watch on in confusion as he bolted away, "Dad?"

She quickly got up and hurried after her father, following him straight into the console room as he went to the monitor and begin typing in code after code. She stepped over to him, gently resting her cup of tea down by the controls to lean over his arm and see what he was doing. She frowned when she saw he was running some sort of scan for all life forms in the TARDIS at that moment.

It was only reading the three of them.

"Dad what..." Tailor began, but he quickly turned to her with his finger over his lips, shushing her gently and looking around as though there was something there.

"Listen!" he whispered to her urgently.

Tailor did as he requested, closing her mouth and listening as intently as she could...but there was only the normal sounds of the TARDIS around them. She was very familiar with her Aunt Idris and the noises she made, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Question," the Doctor began as he slowly started to circle around the main console, Tailor following after him with growing concern, "Why do we talk out loud when we know we're alone?"

"Um..." Tailor hesitated to speak, not sure if he was asking that in a rhetorical sense, "To think better?"

"Or is it because we know we're not," he countered, moving up the stairs and over to the chalkboard that they often did their recreational mathematics on, starting to write on it, "Evolution perfects survival skills. There are perfect hunters. There is perfect defense," he finished, jotting down a notes about it and turning to face Tailor once more, "Question: why is there no such thing as perfect hiding?"

"Well, there are chameleons..." she offered, camouflage was a sort of hiding.

But the Doctor shook his head and begin to make his way along the row of books on the bookshelf next to the chalkboard, searching the spines as he spoke in thought, "The answer is: how would we know?"

"Mum would," Tailor argued, her mother had sensed a number of things that couldn't be seen with the naked eye, invisible things. Nanogenes, Krafayis, ghosts...

"Yes but, logically, if evolution were to perfect a creature whose primary skill were to hide from view, eventually it would reach a point where even the best wouldn't know it was there or that it existed at all!"

That single thought seemed to send him into even more frantic a state of mind. He stiffened, putting his chalk down in front of a book on the shelf, and turned to look around with a tension in his shoulders, reaching out to Tailor, pulling her slightly behind him as though to protect her from something neither of them could see, something she couldn't sense.

"It could be with us every second and we would never know. How would we detect it? How could Angel even sense it? Except in those moments when, for no clear reason, we choose to speak aloud? What would such a creature want? What would it do? Well?" Tailor jumped slightly when he began to shout out at nothing, "What would you do?!"

"Dad...are you feeling alright?" Tailor had to ask. She had seen her father in many a frantic state before, but nothing quite like this.

The Doctor turned back to answer her, though his gaze was drawn over to the book shelf. Tailor turned around as well, frowning when she saw that the chalk wasn't there anymore. But then she looked down and it was just on the floor, it rolled off the shelf, round things rolled, it wasn't anything startling...

The Doctor just knelt down to pick up, immediately looking over at the chalkboard to see the word 'LISTEN' scrawled across it.

"What do you think?" he looked to Tailor.

She looked between the board and over to him, before shaking her head, "I think I'm going to go wake up, Mum," was all she said, before she stepped past him, patting him on the shoulder reassuringly as she headed out of the room.

The Doctor just pouted and looked at the chalkboard once more, crossing his arms as he stared at the word.

~8~

Clara Oswald stepped into her flat that night, completely disheartened and even a little angry with how the evening had gone. She rested back against the door for just a moment, shaking her head as she thought back to her first official date with Danny Pink and that nightmare that had been.

~8~

Clara smiled brightly as she entered a restaurant to see Danny already there, waiting for her at a table. She had spoken to Angel earlier that day, getting the woman to promise that she would keep the Doctor away for the night. She hadn't said why, Angel would never ask that though. Where the Doctor would pry Angel would merely make sure she was safe and that nothing was wrong, though she was sure the woman could sense that anyway. Angel had promised she wouldn't even let the TARDIS land on Earth until after Clara's plans were over.

She had the sneaking suspicion that Angel knew she was about to head to a date, as the woman had ended the call with telling her that the blue dress would look beautiful on her.

She hadn't even mentioned she been debating between a red and a dark blue outfit, but she was grateful for Angel's sensations, the blue was most certainly a better dress for the night than the red. And the way Danny perked up when he saw her approaching in it told her she made the right choice.

"Hey," Danny greeted as he stood from the table when she arrived.

"Hey," she smiled back, blushing profusely when he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

"Sorry!" he quickly apologized, hurrying around the table before she could tell him it was quite alright to pull her chair out for her.

~8~

Clara couldn't help but think, as she began to pull her heels off, that it had started out a bit awkwardly. They had both been putting it off for so long, not of their own intention, but just things getting in the way, that when they were both finally able to have that drink, they had been so anxious it had taken a while for them to really get going and feel comfortable...

~8~

"So the famous drink at last," Clara teased after she and Danny clinked their glasses together, taking a sip of her wine while he took a swig of his beer.

"Yeah. Took a bit of time, family stuff but here we are."

"Dinner, in fact."

"Yeah, straight to dinner."

"I like a man who moves fast."

"Yeah! I might go straight for extras. Afters. Dessert."

"Yes, I know, I know, dessert."

"Straight to dessert."

"Gotcha."

"So, erm..." Danny cleared his throat, seeming to sense that the topic of conversation was getting a little repetitive and searching for something, anything, to talk about that didn't involve the food, "How was your day?"

"Good," Clara brightened at the changing topic, however she realized very soon that there was really nothing at all interesting to say about it as she'd only done one thing before the date, "You know...teaching."

"Yep, teaching."

"Teaching, teaching."

"Totally teaching."

Clara winced at that, "We probably shouldn't talk about work."

"God, yeah!" Danny agreed, realizing how repetitive THAT topic was too, considering they were both teachers at the same school and both saw each other everyday and knew all the same students and shared all the same boring meetings.

But there was ONE point of interest in both their days that Clara seemed to think on, "Though, do you take Courtney for anything?"

~8~

Clara smiled at the memory as she pushed off the door to head into her flat. That has been just what she had needed to get the conversation flowing and the laughs going. Courtney was certainly a piece of work and she found herself, on more than one occasion, wishing she had Angel's limitless patience and understanding when it came to the girl. Something Danny seemed to struggle with as well.

~8~

"Are you serious?" Danny asked, though it was hard to get a word out with how hard he was laughing at the story Clara had just regaled him about Courtney.

"She said she couldn't concentrate on her work because my face was too wide," she moved her hands to either side of her face as though measuring how wide it actually was. She could admit it was quite round, but she didn't think it was THAT wide.

Neither did Danny apparently, "Wide?"

"I could kill that girl some days."

"Me too."

"And from you, that means something."

"Sorry?"

~8~

And that was where the night started to go downhill as they both seemed to take what the other was saying quite out of context nearly non-stop from that point on.

Clara sighed, dropping her heels on the counter of her kitchen. Looking back on it, she could admit she had never felt more like the Doctor's sister than then with how she had completely flubbed the conversation that followed.

~8~

"I dug 23 wells!" Danny told her, defensive.

Clara wasn't sure how to respond to that or why he was telling her about it, it was quite a jump from talking about Courtney to digging wells, "I'm sorry?"

"23 wells-when I was a soldier. 23!"

"Ok?" she struggled for what to say, "Good. Good wells?"

"Yeah, they were good, actually."

"I'm not doubting the quality of your wells."

"Whole villages, saved. Actual towns full of people. People I didn't shoot. People I kept safe!"

"Ok. Point taken. Seriously," she really had absolutely no idea why he was going on and on about the wells.

"So why doesn't that ever get mentioned?"

"I'm sorry I didn't mention your 23 wells!" she huffed, he had certainly mentioned it enough for the both of them by this point.

"Excuse me," another voice spoke as their waiter slowly approached the table, hesitating to speak as he seemed to sense the tension between them.

"Sorry."

"Er, water for the table?"

"Don't you worry, he'll probably dig for it!"

~8~

And just when she thought she had completely ruined the night...

~8~

Danny cracked a small smile and started to laugh a moment after the waiter departed, after he and Clara had stared each other down for quite a few seconds. And just like that, the tension had been broken. They both realized how ridiculous they were being fixating on wells of all things.

"Sorry," Danny apologized first.

"It's ok," Clara tried to wave it off.

"Sensitive subject."

"Yes. Can slightly see that."

Danny sighed, "Sometimes people like you get the wrong end of the stick."

Clara blinked at that, now SHE was starting to feel the offense, "People like me?"

~8~

Of course, of course, it wouldn't have gotten better from that point, it could only ever get worse...

~8~

"I wasn't making assumptions about you..." Danny tried to salvage what he had said.

But Clara shook her head, crossing her arms, "That really is exactly what you were doing."

"You were making assumptions about me!"

"I made a JOKE."

"A not-funny joke."

"Yeah, well, do you know what I'm making now?"

"A fuss?"

Clara's mouth almost dropped open at that, but instead she just flung her napkin back down on the table and stood up, "An exit!"

She didn't even give Danny a moment to speak as she grabbed her jacket and slug it on, storming out of the restaurant and striding away, not even caring that she was making the trek back in high heels, she just wanted to get away.

~8~

Clara sighed deeply as she turned to walk down the hall, heading for her bedroom door, but just as she managed open it a crack she frowned when it wouldn't budge any more.

"Sorry Aunt Clara!" Tailor's voice shouted through the door, "I was trying to park the TARDIS but Dad distracted me."

Clara sighed but managed to peer into her room to see the TARDIS was, in fact, blocking her door, the Doctor sitting at her vanity which had three mirrors in front of it. She couldn't quite see where Tailor and Angel were though, but it sounded like Tailor's voice was coming from the direction of her bed.

"You just have to squeeze through," the Doctor spoke to Clara, sounding as though he were defending his daughter's parking job.

"What's going on?" Clara asked as she began to try and squeeze through the door.

"Why do you have three mirrors?" the Doctor asked instead, "Why don't you just turn your head?"

Clara managed to finally get into the room, seeing Angel and Tailor were sitting on the edge of her bed as she thought, and turned her question to them instead, "What are you doing in here?"

"Angel said that you had a date," the Doctor explained, now that the question wasn't directed at him, "I thought we'd better hide in the bedroom in case you brought him home. Bit early, aren't you? Did it all go wrong, or is this good by your standards?"

"My love," Angel cut in somewhat as she scooted to the side so there was space between her and Tailor to sit, "Do you remember how I told you that I would be here when you started being rude to other people again?"

"Yes."

"You're being rude, dad," Tailor told him, patting the space her mother had made for Clara to sit with them.

"You don't have to say anything, Clara," Angel reassured her, though she reached out to wind an arm around Clara's shoulder, giving her a side hug.

Clara let out an almost scoffing laugh at the action, "It was that much of a disaster you could feel it across time and space?" she muttered to herself, though the question was for Angel.

Angel gave her an understanding and empathetic look, reaching out to take Clara's left hand in her own, "I can always feel when my family is hurt," she told the woman instead.

In fact she had sensed that things were not going very well for Clara on her date. Tailor had just woken her up, saying that she feared the Doctor was finally actually going mad. She'd gotten into the console room to see a table off to the side piled high with book after book, the Doctor frantically rushing around them and looking up different references. He had been muttering to himself something about invisible hunters, when she'd had this sudden sensation that they should go find Clara, that she needed them. She had promised to keep the Doctor away till Clara had finished her date, but something told her the date was quite finished and Clara was quite upset for it.

The Doctor seemed to be in one piece and relatively sane by his own standards, she had felt no alarming sensations for the moment regarding whatever he was worried about, no danger on the horizon...but she just felt like Clara needed them. They had a time machine, they could deal with whatever had the Doctor out of sorts at any time.

"Yes, well, I am, hurt that is," Clara admitted with a sniffle, "I am extremely upset about it, since you didn't ask, Doctor."

"My girls have got it sorted," the Doctor stood, gesturing to where Clara was being hugged on both sides by Angel and Tailor, they were the huggers after all, allowing him to move to lean against the outside of the TARDIS, "But if we could hurry it up just a little bit, I need you all for a thing."

"I can't," Clara shook her head, pulling her mobile out of her purse and flicking through it. She was not in the mood for any sort of adventure tonight. She really just wanted to curl up in her bed and eat some ice cream, trying to focus herself for teaching tomorrow and the undoubted awkwardness there would be between her and Danny when they ran into each other at school.

"Oh, of course you can," he argued, "You're free. More than usually free, in fact."

"Really not the time, dad," Tailor muttered to him quietly.

"It's possible that I might get a phone call," Clara told him.

"From the date guy?" he scoffed, "It's too late. You've taken your make up off."

"No, I haven't. I'm still wearing my make up."

"Oh, well, you probably just missed a bit."

"My love, why don't you go into the TARDIS and get everything ready, let me talk to Clara," Angel offered, making a light shooing motion.

She wouldn't lie and say she wasn't a little bit concerned about the Doctor right at this moment as well. It wasn't on the same level as how he had been acting in Sherwood Forest around Robin Hood, where he had seemed like he couldn't even tolerate being around humans. But there was a growing concern with how he was treating Clara. For she knew that he considered her truly to be like a sister to him, but he didn't seem to be aware or considerate of anything she was feeling. It worried her.

From what Tailor had told her, the Doctor had been going mad about something, about some danger that couldn't be seen or proven or even sensed, not even by her. And the way he was acting, from what she could tell of this new him, and even a little bit about his older selves, it did speak to her of a deep fear he was feeling for her and Tailor. She knew from experience that whenever he felt she was in danger it was as though a switch flipped and he couldn't bring himself to care much about other people around him, his entire focus was on her and keeping her safe. It was the Mating instinct, she knew, she had seen him almost develop tunnel vision a time or two when she was in danger. He would do anything and everything to keep her safe and damn the consequences, sometimes forgetting the other people around him.

Something was bothering him, he was truly frightened about something, and it was making him act out and lash out at Clara. But the girl was the last person who deserved any such treatment.

"I'm really not in the mood for an adventure," Clara told them as the Doctor did as Angel requested and went into the TARDIS.

"It's completely up to you if you want to come," Angel reassured her, "But maybe an adventure is just what you need, something to distract you, something to lift your spirits a little bit..."

"Yes, because traveling with the Doctor while he's on an insult spree is really going to cheer me up."

"Dad's just...on edge," Tailor tried to find a way to phrase it as she wasn't truly sure she understood everything that was going on either, "I think he thinks he's discovered a new species, and he's trying to prove it exists. But you know Dad, anything he discovers has to be dangerous in some way and he's freaking out a little bit over it."

"A little bit?" Clara soft, "I don't think 'little' rates on any kind of scale that the Doctor operates by."

"No," Angel agreed, "He certainly doesn't do anything by halves," the last word ended up being extended when Angel yawned in the middle of it, "Sorry, I was sleeping when this newfound discovery was made. I'd really like to get back to sleep, but the Doctor won't stop until he's either proven or disproven the existence of whatever species he thinks he's found."

Clara frowned, "And what, he needs my help to discover the species? How does that work?"

"I don't know for sure," Angel tried to explain, "Right now his mind is a jumble of so many different thoughts and theories, all I know is it's because you're human."

"I'm not about to be used to bait, am I?"

"Do you really think I would ever let him?"

Clara sighed, "No," she could admit, before taking a deep breath and pushing herself up to go put on some more sensible flats, "Alright, let's get this over with. I could do with some sleep myself."

Tailor gave a wide grin as she jumped to her feet and locked her arm with her aunt's, even though she was trying to be understanding of Clara's less than pleasant evening, she couldn't deny she wasn't excited to go on a new adventure with her family. Angel, however, was more sedate as she stood, reaching out to squeeze Clara's shoulder in thanks before she led them over to the TARDIS and opened the doors.

"Knew it!" the Doctor shouted from the console, "Didn't need to be you, Angel, to know that you could talk her into going."

"Keep that up and I'll walk right out, Doctor," Clara warned.

"No, you won't," he said quickly as he spun around from the console to face the three approaching women, "Because! You know, sometimes, when you talk to yourself, what if you're not?"

"Not what?"

"What if it's not you you're talking to? Proposition: what if no one is ever really alone, what if every single living being has a companion, a silent passenger, a shadow? What if the prickle on the back of your neck is the breath of something close behind you?"

Clara gave him a look and then turned to share the same expression with Angel and Tailor. While Angel looked somewhat concerned about what the Doctor was spouting, Tailor was just nodding her head and gesturing at the Doctor as though to say ' see, this is what I was talking about.'

She looked over to Angel, "You said you were sleeping?" the woman nodded, "How long has he NOT been sleeping?"

"Oi!" he huffed, "I'll have you know that I never want to pass up the opportunity to sleep with Angel in my arms. Best sleep I ever get. Which means this," he tapped his head, "Is operating at full capacity, better than ever, and yet I can't explain that."

Clara looked over to where he was pointing, to the chalkboard as it had the word 'LISTEN' scrawled across it, "It looks like your handwriting."

"Well, I couldn't have written it and forgotten, could I?"

"My love," Angel's voice called out, soft and reluctant.

The Doctor looked over at her, confused for only the briefest of moments as to why she was looking at him with such a mournful expression. But then it hit him. He could have said that about a lot of things, that he couldn't have done one thing and forgotten about it a moment later. Except that he had, about the greatest, most important thing in his life. He had loved Angel with everything in him, enough to ask her to be his Mate, and then he had forgotten about it.

"No," he shook his head in answer and contradiction to what she was saying, "There were no Silence here, none, not at all. The scanners didn't pick them up, I checked. No Silence in this TARDIS, ever again, I swear it."

"But, dad, you DID write it," Tailor reminded him, she had seen him write it as he had been talking about offense and defense, "Couldn't it just be that you were thinking so fast you wrote down something you thought something else?"

"Can't risk it," the Doctor muttered to himself as he turned on his heel and moved over to the books on the table as though it was proof of everything he was saying.

Angel frowned at the words, getting an odd sensation off of him about all of this. There was something much more going on than he was letting on about, or perhaps that he even realized. That was sometimes the problem with someone as brilliant as the Doctor, his mind sometimes worked faster than his conscious thought could understand.

"What's all this?" Clara's voice pulled Angel out of her thoughts, as the woman joined the Doctor over by the table, looking down at the books and papers lined all over it.

"Dreams," the Doctor began to explain, "Accounts of dreams, by different people, all through history. You see, I have a theory..."

"So I've heard," Clara sighed, "What theory?"

"I think everybody, at some point in their lives, has the exact same nightmare. You wake up, or you think you do, and there's someone in the dark, someone close, or you think there might be. So you sit up, turn on the light, and the room looks different at night. It ticks and creaks and breathes. And you tell yourself there's nobody there, nobody watching, nobody listening, nobody there at all, and you very nearly believe it. You really, really try, and then, just as you begin to get out of bed...a hand reaches out and grabs you by your ankle."

Angel blinked at that...

...a figure sat on a bed, a blanket draped over it, not moving...

'...please, don't make me spend another night here...'

...a boy sat up on a bed in a barn, gasping when a hand grabbed his ankle...

Angel snapped out of her vision to see the Doctor didn't even seem to have realized she'd had one, he was still trying to explain the situation to Clara and Tailor as h moved towards the console, "There are accounts of that dream throughout human history, time and time again, the same dream. Now, there is a very obvious question I'm about to ask you. Do you know what it is?"

"Dad is that what this is all about?" Tailor shook her head, "It was just a dream, there wasn't really anything under my bed."

"But that's just it," the Doctor turned to point at her, "You weren't the only one who had it!"

"Is that what woke you up, my love?" Angel asked as she moved closer to the console, looking at him and concern. She could vaguely recall the Doctor waking up at some point and telling her to go back to sleep, that he was just going to get a drink of milk. She couldn't help but feel like this was partially her fault, if she had woken up more fully perhaps she could have calmed him down and they could have avoided this.

The Doctor could only glance away, not wanting to lie to her and say that was what had woken him up, but also knowing he would have to explain his nightmare to her in order to say what had gotten him getting out of the bed the way he had in order to have that moment of panic.

"Ok but everyone dreams about something under the bed," Clara argued.

"Why?" the Doctor had to ask, "Isn't it strange that every person who's ever lived has had the same dream?"

"There are civilizations on Earth that believed in the same creatures and even had the same architecture," Tailor tried to argue reasonably, "And they've never encountered each other. Humans are always afraid of things in the dark, you can't see in the dark, and you can't see what's under your bed when you're in it, so you naturally assume there must be something under there too..."

"This is too important to leave up to theories," the Doctor shook his head at that, turning to gently take Clara's hand and press it into a panel of the TARDIS that squished under her touch, "Just hold on tight. If anything bites, let it."

"Wait..." Clara grimaced at the touch, something coming back to her from her Time Lady days, "Is this..."

"The TARDIS telepathic interface?" Angel quickly made her way over, looking up at the Doctor with quite an angry expression, "Doctor why have you exposed telepathic interface? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"What danger?" Clara seemed about to pull her hand away, but the Doctor quickly held it to it.

"It's just a mental connection with the TARDIS," he reassured her, "Just don't think anything rude."

Angel looked up with the TARDIS hummed around her, "That's not stopping Sissy from thinking rude thoughts about you right now, my love."

"Aunt Idris is very angry," Tailor warned her father, "She's not happy that you opened the interface..."

The Doctor rolled his eyes at his daughter's sing-song tone and walked around to the other side of the monitor, starting to type something in, "The TARDIS is extrapolating your entire timeline, Clara, from the moment of your birth, to the moment of your death."

"Is that why you needed Aunt Clara?" Tailor asked, turning to her father, "If Aunt Idris tried to extrapolate that from us, it would be too long a timeline to pinpoint the dream," she worked it out, "You needed a human timeline to get a more exact point in time."

The Doctor snapped his fingers and pointed at her for that, "I'm turning off the safeguards and navigation-slaving the TARDIS to you Clara..."

"No, you are not," Angel moved over to his side, pushing the same buttons that he did to undo what he had done, "You can't turn off the safeguards, they're..."

"Keeping me from making sure," the Doctor said, turning to Angel and reaching out to take her hands off the buttons, looking into her eyes intently, "I need to be sure. Please, Angel, I will never take the safeguards off again, but I need to, just this once. I need to be sure. It's important, I can't let this rest until I know."

Angel frowned as she looked at him, searching his mind for exactly what he was talking about. But all she was getting were thoughts of her and Tailor, and a frantic, almost desperate, desire to keep them safe. He really wouldn't be able to let this go, she saw on his mind, he wouldn't be able to rest, to relax, to calm himself or focus on anything else until he had gotten his answer.

"You're here," he continue to speak softly, squeezing her hands, "My good luck charm. We're safe with you, even if I turn the safeguards off. Please, let me."

Angel let out a soft breath, pulling one hand out of his grip to reestablish the commands he had been putting in place, "Just this once," she warned him.

The Doctor smiled and leaned in to kiss her quickly in thanks, before he turned back to the controls, calling over to Clara, "Focus on the dream, focus on the details, picture them, feel them."

"Sissy will be able to track that moment in your subconscious and bring us right to that time and place."

"And then...we'll see."

"What will we see?" Clara frowned.

"What's under the bed," the Doctor said, pulling a lever to start the dematerialization process.

"Hold on, Aunt Clara," Tailor quickly moved over to her aunt's side to stabilize her when she was nearly thrown to the side by the tilting movement of the TARDIS taking off.

Almost at that same exact moment Clara's phone, which she had set on the console when the Doctor pulled her over, began to ring, flashing Danny's name on the front of it. Clara couldn't help it when her thoughts drifted to the horrendous date she had just had with him, and then to the man himself.

"Don't get distracted!" the Doctor called, quickly running over to Clara's side to take the phone and toss it away from her to keep her focused. He spun around as Angel manned the controls he had just left, pulling another lever to set the TARDIS down when it locked onto something in the time stream.

Tailor looked up, almost shocked, "Did that actually work?"

"According to the coordinates," Angel nodded as the Doctor came to check, seeing that it did appear that they had set down exactly when the dream was happening.

"We're here," he breathed.

"Sorry," Clara winced as she pulled her hand out from the interface, "I think I got distracted."

"No, no, no, no, no, the date's fine," the Doctor spoke, quickly heading for the doors...only to stop in the doorway and turn around, "I think you all should stay here...and that's not going to work, is it?" he continued very quickly after the first words left his mouth, seeing the expression on all three of their faces that told him he would not be stepping out of that TARDIS by himself.

"As you said, my love, you can't be safe without your safeguard there."

"And if mum's watching your back, I'm going to watch Aunt Clara's," Tailor agreed, linking her arm with Clara's once more.

The Doctor shook his head, truly not wanting any of them to go with him on this excursion, realizing now his mistake in getting them involved in the first place. But he would protect them, that was the whole point of this. In order to do that he had to know how to do that.

"Ok, so where are we?" Clara asked as they made to leave the TARDIS.

"Your childhood," the Doctor answered as they stepped out, but Clara frowned deeply when she saw them standing in front of what appeared to be a children's home.

"Why do I get the feeling we're in the wrong place?" Tailor remarked as she looked around.

"The West Country Children's Home," the Doctor explained from what he gotten off of the reading on the scanner, "Gloucester, by the ozone level and the drains, mid-'90s. You must have been here when you had the dream."

"Never been to Gloucester in my life," Clara told them.

"And she was never in a children's home," Angel reminded him as well.

They had seen a great majority of Clara's life when they had been investigating her in his last body, before they understood how she could be the impossible girl she was. They had watched her grow up with her father and mother, mourning her mother's passing, graduating from school, nothing at all to do with the children's home.

"And even if I was, I'm pretty sure it's bad if I meet myself," Clara added.

"It could potentially catastrophic," the Doctor agreed, "So it's a good thing this isn't your past then, isn't it?"

"But then whose past is it?" Tailor asked, glancing at the children's home with a worried look, subconsciously stepping closer to her father as her thoughts drifted back to a children's home in her own past.

The Doctor seem to realize where her thoughts had gone, for he reached out to take her hand, reassuring her with his presence that he and Angel were there, that what passed would never happen to her again.

"I told you I got distracted," Clara muttered.

"We're still at the right time," Angel tried to reassure them, "It's just a different place than Clara's past. But wherever we've landed, someone in there is about to have this dream."

"Then we'd best find them," the Doctor squeezed Tailor's hand as he led her inside the building, Angel remaining outside and looking at Clara as the girl seemed to be trying to work out what happened that got them HERE of all places.

"You thought about him, didn't you?" Angel asked her with a small smile on her face, no judgement or disappointment, just an understanding, "The man you had a date with? He was the one who called you."

"Yeah," Clara crossed her arms, not in defense, but in slight embarrassment, she felt as though she had been caught by a parent.

"If you thought of him, then the chances are he's the one in there," Angel reasoned, "This is a point in his timeline where he is having the dream."

Clara looked over at the building at those words, a small frown on her face. She didn't know Danny had been in a children's home. But, as though hearing her thoughts, a young black boy looked out of a window near the top floor, and waved down at her in the same almost jerking manner Danny had waved in the restaurant. Instantly she knew Angel was right, this was Danny's timeline and that little boy was Danny as a child.

"What are you doing down there?" the boy called down to them.

"Nothing, er..." Clara began to call back to him, before turning to Angel to whisper, "Is this ok?"

"It's not your timeline any longer, there's no danger in briefly meeting him as a child," Angel reassured her, thinking back to when she had actually met Mickey Smith as a child once.

Clara nodded and looked back at the boy, "What's your name?"

"Rupert," he answered, "Rupert Pink."

"Oh," Clara blinked, not having expected it to be that. She had known him only as Danny Pink, that was the name on all his records in the school. Perhaps Daniel was a middle name that he went by?

"Hello Rupert," Angel called up, "It's nice to meet you."

"Why are you awake?" Clara asked, frowning when she saw the boy glance over his shoulder and back at them with a frown that could only mean one thing went on the face of a child, "Are you scared?"

The boy could only nod and say, "There's something under the bed."

Chapter Text

The Doctor and Tailor walked down an empty hallway of the children's home, his sonic held in his hand by his side, buzzing and ready should they encounter anything less than savory. He was not about to risk the safety of his daughter. Not after what she had experienced in a children's home herself. He knew that, for as brave as his daughter was, as curious as she could be, there were some places and some things that just brought back horrible memories for her. Children's homes being one of them, spacesuits another, and the eye drives. This was one of the last places in the universe she would want to be, but he was so proud of her for being there with him. She knew, somewhere in here, a child was having a nightmare and she wanted to help them, just like her parents. His daughter was fantastic.

He paused when they came to a door that was opened, glancing in cautiously to see it was an empty office, a TV was on, playing in the background. He stepped in closer, seeing another doorway to an inner office that had a voice coming behind it. Just as he had noticed that fact, the door opened and a man walked out, stopping short when he saw the two standing there.

"How did you get in?" the man frowned at them.

"Your door must be faulty," was all the Doctor said as he led them closer to the inner office, holding up the psychic paper for the man to read.

"An inspection?"

"Health and Safety!" Tailor cheered, remembering that story from one of the many bedtime tales her father had told her, how he and her mother had infiltrated an Adipose breeding facility with the guise of being Health and Safety.

"It's two in the morning!"

"You can never be too healthy or safe," Tailor shrugged with a smile, stepping forward, "Taylor Smith," she reached out to shake his hand.

The Doctor rolled his eyes at the pleasantries, but offered, "John Smith" himself.

"Er, Dwayne Rogers?" the man eyed them oddly.

"Do you always work here nights?" the Doctor asked as he put the psychic paper away.

"Most nights, yes."

"Ever end up talking to yourself?"

"Dad..." Tailor sighed. Granted she didn't know much about actual human health and safety departments, but she felt like that was probably a question not normally asked on a routine inspection.

"All the time," Dwayne nodded however, "It's this place...you can't help it."

"What about your coffee?"

"...my coffee?" Dwayne shook his head, glancing over at Tailor who was shaking her own, before he finally looked over at his full cup of coffee resting on his desk.

"Sometimes do you put it down, and look round, and it's not there?"

Dwayne shrugged, "Everybody does that."

"Human beings are often quite forgetful," Tailor added, trying to offer some more logical reasons for the occurrence, hoping it would help calm her father down, "Too many memories, too small brains."

The Doctor just hummed in thought at that, only to look back towards the other room when he heard the television turn off, "Who turned your telly off?"

"It does that," Dwayne shrugged, not sounding very concerned about it, but the Doctor seemed deeply perturbed, already moving into the other room to examine the television, "Look, it just goes off. Are you going to be examining the the wiring, too?

Tailor considered that for a moment. It did explain why the TV turned off, if there was something faulty in the wiring it would make some of the electronics short circuit. It happened in the TARDIS all the time whenever her father tried to fix something and didn't quite manage it just right. It really was not out of the ordinary, but she could see her father heading for the hallway, a purpose in his step, clearly he thought otherwise.

She shook her head when she caught up to him to see him drinking Dwayne's coffee, and rolled her eyes. He had put the suggestion in Dwayne's mind about how sometimes he put down the cup and it disappeared, and now HE was doing it to prove his point, creating the outcome he wanted.

"Right," the Doctor set down the empty coffee cup on a nearby hall table they passed, "We just need to catch up with your mother and Clara, find out where they are, and then we can really get this investigation on the road."

'I'm upstairs, my love,' Angel spoke in his head as though hearing his words, which she likely had, 'There seems to be a little boy here frightened of something under his bed.'

The Doctor's eyes widened at that and he reached out to take Tailor's hand, starting to run down the hall to get to the stairs and help Angel. He should have been there with her to investigate this little boy, not so far behind.

~8~

Clara followed only slightly behind Angel as the Time Lady led the way through the upstairs hall of the children's home, leading them directly to Rupert's room she assumed. She had come to trust Angel and her sensations implicitly over the time spent with the Time Lords. Wherever Angel went, she was sure it was safe to follow, Angel always seemed to get them wherever they needed to go. Right now they needed to go to Rupert, the child was clearly scared out of his mind. She honestly wasn't sure how much she believed of the monster under the bed that the Doctor seemed to think was real. Angel and Tailor seemed to be of the mind that the Doctor was losing his, that whatever was under the bed was just a result of the human condition, of a natural fear of the dark, of so many little details that just created the same sort of nightmare. But the fact that the Doctor was investigating this so thoroughly, that he was creating this whole adventure based solely around this creature under the bed, it was making her more than a little wary.

And now they had a scared little boy who was feeling there was a monster under his bed right now.

She looked up when Angel led them right to a room that had a crack of light coming from under the door. The Time Lady gently knocked on it in question to enter, pushing the door open just a bit to see inside where Rupert was. A moment later she was stepping into the room, Clara following, to see Rupert was sitting on the floor, looking at his bed.

"Hello Rupert," Angel greeted, moving to sit beside the boy and put her arm around him in comfort. Whether the monster under the bed was real or not, it mattered little when Rupert himself was genuinely frightened of creatures he couldn't see but believed were there. It was a little more true for her, she could sense such creatures even when others couldn't see them. But right now? She wasn't sensing anything in this room other than the three of them, "Alright there?"

Rupert gave a small nod, glancing up at Clara, "Hello."

"Hi," she offered, looking around room. If this Rupert Pink was actually Danny pink, or perhaps some family member of his, this could be a chance to actually get to see what it was like where he grew up. She couldn't help hoping that Rupert would find a family to call his own sometime very soon, children should always be with a family who loved them, "Nice room. You know, you should have more than one chair," Clara added when she moved to sit at a small desk chair, "What do you do when people come 'round?"

"The floor is quite comfy actually," Angel teased, nodding at where she and Rupert were sitting.

"Sit on the bed," Rupert answered after moment.

Angel glanced over at the bed, "And you don't want to sit on it now, because of the thing under it, right?" she asked him as gently as she could. Humans were a bit funny like that, he was sitting on the floor where he could see the bed, he was sitting on the floor where the creature, if there was one, under the bed would be moving along. If it had been her, she probably would have been sitting on top of the desk or the chair like Clara was.

Rupert nodded.

"Hey..." Clara spoke to him in a soothing tone, seeing a flush of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks that he was afraid of something under the bed, "Everyone thinks that sometimes. That's just how people think at night."

"Why?"

"People are always afraid of what they can't see, what they don't understand," Angel offered, stretching out her legs just a bit to cross her ankles, "I've been scared like that before."

"You?" Rupert looked up at Angel, glancing between her and Clara when he saw the other girl nodding as well, "I thought adults don't get scared."

"We get scared loads of times," Angel replied, "Getting scared is...kind of like a superpower, makes you more careful, and one can never be too careful."

"I'm always careful getting out of the bed," Rupert mumbled.

Clara frowned at that, "Did you have a dream, a hand grabbing your foot? You have, haven't you? You've had that exact dream."

"How did you know?"

"Do you know why dreams are called dreams?"

"Why?"

"Because they're not real," Angel told him with a nudge to his side, smiling down at him to get him to smile back at her.

"If they were, they wouldn't need a name," Clara agreed, pushing herself up off of the chair to go walk over to the bed.

"What are you doing?" Rupert frowned, snuggling a little more into Angel's comforting hold the nearer Clara got to the source of his fear.

"I'm going to check under the bed," she told him simply.

"But you can't! That's where it is!"

"I think it's safe," Clara told him, "And do you want to know why"

"Why?"

"Cos Angel's right there," Clara nodded over at her friend, "Nowhere safer in the universe to be than right there with Angel."

"You are almost as bad as the Doctor," Angel muttered.

"One of the rare cases where the Doctor's actually right," Clara teased back, moving to get on to her knees and look under the bed, "Do you know what's under here Rupert?"

"What?" the boy tensed, thinking she saw something.

"Me!" Clara cheered, crawling under the bed to peek out at him, a smile on her face, "Come on! It's perfectly safe."

Rupert hesitated, so Angel squeezed his shoulders, "Go on, if you're safe with me you're safe with Clara."

Rupert looked between the two women, before he got up and made his way to crawl under the bed with Clara, who was now lying on her back, staring up at the mattress. Angel moved over, closer to them, kneeling on the floor and crouching under to observe them, there wasn't enough space for three people.

"See?" Clara smiled, "Nobody here. Except us."

Rupert was silent for a moment, before he let out a long sigh, "Sometimes I hear noises."

"Me too," Angel told him, reaching out to take his hand, sensing that this was something difficult for him to admit out loud, "Sometimes I hear things no one else can."

"Does it scare you?"

"It used to."

"What did you do?"

Angel smiled gently as she thought back to the first few visions she'd ever had, "I found a Doctor to help me, I've never been afraid since then."

"Do you think I need a doctor?"

"I think everyone could do with a Doctor."

"Oh I don't know," Clara spoke up, not sure if the boy would feel better or worse for those words, as comforting as they were to Angel and herself, "I think I would hear noises here, too. It's a house full of people, of course you hear noises."

"They're all asleep," Rupert reminded her.

"They're all dreaming."

"Can you hear dreams?"

"Sometimes," Angel agreed.

"If you're clever enough," Clara offered Angel a smile at that, "But they can't harm you. You know, sometimes we think there's something behind us and the space under your bed is what's behind you at night. Simple as that. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Just as Clara finished speaking, the mattress above them began to sink down, springs squeaking as if someone had sat down on the bed.

"Who else is in this room?" Clara whispered.

"Nobody," Rupert answered just as quietly.

"Angel," Clara turned her head to look at the woman who didn't seem on edge or tense at all, "Who else is in the room?"

"It's just one of Rupert's friends," Angel reassured them, she had sensed and heard someone entering the room, she wasn't getting any kind of threatening sensation off of it, there was no danger she could feel.

"But I don't have any friends here," Rupert murmured in response.

Clara slowly got out from under the bed, moving on to her knees to look at the top of it, where someone was sitting, covered by a blanket. She reached down towards the bed to help Rupert out even as she spoke to the being, "Hello? Who's this?"

"It's one of the other children," Angel spoke, moving to stand and help Clara up even as the person on the bed made no sound.

"Playing a trick, are you?" Clara frowned at the child, "A little trick on Rupert here? Well, it's not funny this, you know."

"You gave him quite a fright, and that wasn't very nice," Angel added, a scolding tone in her voice.

Just as she reached out to pull the blanket off of the child, so that Rupert would at least know which of the other children was being mean to him, a light turned on above them and she felt herself being tugged back by the Doctor, who was moving in front of her as though to guard her from the child.

"You're late, my love," Angel teased him, though she leaned up to give him a kiss on his cheek, "Alright, beautiful?" she turned to Tailor, moving to put her arm around the girl's shoulder, sensing a discomfort from the girl.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tailor smiled at her mother, "Won't be sad when we leave, though."

Angel nodded at that, understanding, she herself did not have very fond memories children's home from their past, "It won't be long now, I'm sure your father has everything handled."

That brought out more of a smile from her daughter.

"Are you the one?" the Doctor asked, backing up just a little more to give enough space around the person on the bed, his question was directed at Rupert, "You're the one that had the dream?"

Clara nodded, "It gave him quite a fright."

"Good, he should be scared, are you scared now?" he moved to lean over so he could look Rupert in the eye, "The thing on the bed, whatever it is...look at it. Does it scare you?"

"Yes," the boy whispered.

Clara looked over at Angel, frowning at how the Doctor seemed to be making the child more afraid, but Angel was just smiling softly and shaking her head, nodding at the Doctor as though she should give it a moment longer.

"That's good," he continued, "Want to know why that's good?"

"Why?"

"Let me tell you about scared," the Doctor began, straightening up and moving around the bed from one side to the other, observing the blanketed person, "Your heart is beating so hard, I could feel it through your hands. There's so much blood and oxygen pumping through your brain, it's like rocket fuel. Right now, you could run faster and you could fight harder, you could jump higher than ever in your life, and you are so alert it's like you can slow down time. What's wrong with scared? Scared is a superpower..."

"That's what the angel lady said," Rupert murmured.

The Doctor glanced over at Angel and smiled, winking at her, "Best thing you could ever do is listen to her," he told the boy, "Cos she's usually always right. Psychic."

"Thief," Angel shot back.

The Doctor let out a soft laugh, looking back over at Rupert, noting the boy seemed a little less scared now. And that was good. Despite the fact he didn't appear to be quite as invested in the humans as his earlier selves had been, this was still a scared child in a children's home. He couldn't help but think about Tailor and her time in one, he would have given anything for someone to make his daughter feel less afraid, "Being scared is your superpower. There is danger in this room and guess what? It's you. Do you feel it? Do you think he feels it?" he nodded over to the person on the bed, "Do you think he's scared? Nah! Loser! Turn your back on him."

"What?" Rupert shook his head, only just barely being able to keep up with what the Doctor was saying.

"It's alright," Angel told the boy, "That child is only doing this because he knows he can scare YOU by doing so. As soon as you turn your back, you can't see him, you can't be afraid of him any longer. All the fun and excitement is gone and, perhaps, he won't do it again because he'll know it won't work again," she said the last part more pointedly to the bed.

"Yeah, turn your back on him, come on," the Doctor encouraged, "You too, Clara," he moved over to the window, looking out of it, Angel gesturing for Tailor to go with him while she focused on getting Clara to join them, "Clara, your back, now. Do it, just do it now, turn your back. Do it now, turn your back. Lovely view out this window."

Angel reached out to Rupert to lead him over to the window with them, looking out of the sky with a small frown at the Doctor. For a moment she thought he was going along with this because of what she had said, that by turning his back he would be telling the child on the bed he couldn't scare Rupert anymore. But it appeared that the Doctor still felt the person on the bed wasn't actually another child but whatever creature was usually hiding under the bed.

"Now," the Doctor continued as they all looked out the window, "There are two possibilities. Possibility one, it's just one of your friends standing there, and he's playing a joke on you. Possibility two, it isn't."

"One of the children," Angel stated.

"You saw it walk in here and put the blanket over him, then?"

"No, I was talking Clara with Rupert, but I know it is, Doctor. There is no danger here."

Doctor swallowed hard, wanting to believe her, wanting to trust her sensations as he always had in the past. But he hadn't been here when the thing on the bed entered, and Angel hadn't seen it happen. This was far too important to him to not have it be 100 percent fact.

"I need to know," he emphasized, reaching out to take Angel's hand and squeeze it in apology, "I need to."

Angel let out a sigh, but squeezed his hand back, understanding this was one of the very few circumstances where the Doctor needed to see it with his own eyes to believe it.

"So, plan?" Clara asked, "Plans are good."

"Well, dad's probably got a thing," Tailor offered.

"You on the bed," the Doctor called out, "I'm talking to you now. Go in peace. We won't look. Just go. If all you want to do is stay hidden, it's ok. Just leave."

"Is it gone?" Clara asked after they heard the springs of the bed moving.

"Don't look round, not yet," the Doctor warned, putting a hand on Rupert's shoulder to keep him from looking.

"I can't hear anything," Rupert remarked.

"Don't look 'round."

"He's standing behind us," Angel told them, "Really, trust me, it is one of the children playing a joke," she looked down when she felt the Doctor squeeze her hand even tighter.

"What if it's not," the Doctor swallowed hard, "Imagine a thing that must never be seen. What would it do if you saw it?"

"I don't know," Rupert whimpered.

"Neither do I," the Doctor looked over at Angel, "And that's why I can't risk it," he told her before looking at the others, "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Close your eyes. You too, Clara, Tailor. Give it what it wants. Prove to it that you're not going to look at it. Make a promise, promise you're never going to look at it."

Angel sighed but closed her eyes as he requested, humoring him. Right now, with that person behind them, the Doctor was in too frantic a state to see reason. If she tried to argue with him now, he would just get more flustered and worried. The sooner the child realized they were not playing this game with him, the sooner he would leave and the sooner she could see what the Doctor was really going on about.

"I promise never to look!" Rupert called out, quickly closing his eyes tight.

"The breath on the back of your neck..." Angel frowned as the Doctor began to mutter more to himself than anyone else, "Like your hairs standing on end...that means don't look 'round!"

"He's leaving," Angel told them only a moment before the door to Rupert's room slammed shut. Clara, Rupert, and Tailor all turned around to look.

"Gone?" Clara looked to Angel.

"Gone," she nodded.

Rupert, however, frowned, "He took my bedspread."

Tailor laughed and patted him on the back.

The Doctor merely rolled his eyes, "Oh, the human race, you're never happy, are you?"

"Am I safe now?" Rupert looked to them.

"Nobody's safe," the Doctor remarked as he eyed a toy robot, "Especially not at night in the dark, anything can get you, and you're up here all alone..."

"My love," Angel cut in with a gentle scold to her voice.

"Yes?" he looked at her.

"Might I take over now?"

He hummed, moving closer to the door to rest his body weight on it, making sure whatever had left wouldn't come back, "Be my guest."

Angel rolled her eyes at that but smiled at his protectiveness, moving to Rupert's side to guide him to the bed, "As scary as the dark may be, Rupert, there's something very important you always need to remember."

"What's that?" the boy asked.

"There is always a light to be found somewhere," Angel smiled, before glancing over at Tailor, "What do you think sweetheart, fireflies or a star."

"Fireflies," Tailor beamed, excited to see it.

Angel nodded and threw her hand in the air, causing sparkles of the Vortex to form above them, lightly drifting in place as though fireflies in the night.

"Whoa!" Rupert gasped, reaching out to touch one and laughing when it burst into a small firework, tickling his skin.

"And even if the light goes out," Clara continued, making her way over with a small box of toy soldiers, "You'll still have something to protect you."

"Like what?"

"Like this, see what I'm doing?" Clara began to line some of the toy soldiers up around the bottom of the bed, "This is your army."

"Plastic army?" the Doctor scoffed.

"No poking fun at Uncle Rory," Tailor warned her father, knowing he was probably about to remark on how much that wasn't protective at all. But her Uncle Rory was the most protective and best person she had ever met besides her father, with her Uncles Jack and Mickey tying for third. She missed him terribly.

"They're going to guard under your bed," Clara stated.

Tailor smiled and joined her on the floor, helping her set up of soldiers on the other side of the bed, "This one can be Rory. Ooh, and these two are Jack and Gray. We've got Owen, Ianto, John, Major Mickey, he's in charge of this side..."

"And this one's the boss one," Clara cut in gently, before Tailor ended up naming every single soldier in that box after her uncles, "The colonel. He's going to keep a special eye out."

"It's broken, that one," Rupert pointed out, nodding at how the plastic soldier was somewhat melted, "It doesn't have a gun."

"It better not!" the Doctor shouted, "No guns around my girls!"

"And that's why he's the boss," Clara ignored him.

"A real soldier, a real hero, wants to end the wars, not just fight in them," Angel told Rupert softly, "And someone who wants to end a war that badly will find some way to do it without hurting anyone."

"He's so clever he doesn't need a weapon," Tailor agreed, "Because this," she tapped her head, "Is the greatest weapon anyone could have."

The Doctor just smiled softly at his Mate and daughter for their words, knowing they were in reference to him, knowing that, despite how he had been a soldier, he had fought to end the hurt, not to win the war.

Clara nodded, "He can keep the whole world safe. What shall we call him?"

"Dan!" Rupert shouted, seeing Tailor about to open her mouth to name that soldier too, but if he was going to name even one of them he wanted it to be the commander.

"Sorry?" Clara seemed startled by that name.

"Dan, the soldier man. That's what I call him."

"Good," Clara swallowed, "Good name."

"Yeah."

"Come now," Angel murmured, moving to hold up one side of the bed sheets, "In you go, time to sleep."

Rupert shuffled under the sheets, letting the nice lady tuck him in, "Would you read me a story?" he looked to the three adults, "It'll help me get to sleep."

Angel smiled at that, "Oh I have something even better than a story."

"What?" Rupert look to her.

She reached out, gently running her hand through Rupert's short hair, softly beginning to sing, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

Rupert must have been truly exhausted after the time he'd had, for he'd fallen asleep before she even finished one round of the lullaby.

"I remember that song," Tailor said gently, her voice low so as not to wake Rupert, "You used to sing it to me all the time, mum."

Angel looked up at her and smiled sadly at the memory, "Of course I would," she stood and moved to Tailor's side, cupping her face with both her hands, seeing the tears that were gathering in her daughter's eyes, "You were, and will always be, my sunshine."

"Our sunshine," the Doctor walked over to hug his two girls to him.

He knew the significance of the song, he had seen it in Angel's memories, how she used to sing that to her stomach when it was only just starting to swell. He saw how she had begged to the universe not to take away her sunshine, to not take away her daughter. The universe had been cruel, and then it had been kind by giving her back to them. Tailor truly was there sunshine, she brought the brightness back into Angel after his bout of amnesia, really she'd brought it into both their lives.

And he would never, ever let anyone take their sunshine away again.

That was why this was so important.

~8~

Back in the TARDIS, Clara was sitting on a small set of steps that led up to a chalkboard, watching as the trio of Time Lords moved around the console to fly the TARDIS away from the children's home.

"So...it really was just a kid in a bedspread?" she asked, something about the entire situation putting her on edge. She had seen the Doctor freaked out before, but usually always with a good reason, it made her feel like there must have been an actual creature under that bedspread and not a kid, but if Angel said it was a kid, she wanted to believe that very much.

"It's...possible, yes," the Doctor could admit, rubbing his head, unable to help but feel like there had to be more to it than just that but also feeling grateful that it didn't appear to be the case. Still, he wasn't sure and that was what was setting him off.

"What I don't understand is why we ended up there with him instead of you, Aunt Clara?" Tailor asked, looking at her Aunt.

Clara shrugged as she stood, "I got distracted."

"But why that particular boy?" the Doctor asked, "You don't have any...you don't have any kind of connection with him, do you?"

"No. No, no, no, of course not. Why do you ask?"

"The TARDIS was slaved to your timeline. Theoretically, there should have been some connection."

"Well if that's the past of a person she knew or knows," Angel began, trying to pick her words carefully, knowing how overprotective the Doctor would likely get about someone dating his sister if it ended up being serious enough where her timeline had latched onto theirs, "That would be enough of a timeline touching hers that it could, theoretically, bring us to their timeline too."

"Will, um...will he remember any of that?" Clara wondered.

"He might," she remarked, "But it was one night for barely an hour, years and years ago."

"Too many memories, too small brain," Tailor repeated, "He may not."

Clara moved over to them, biting her lip, her expression so clearly anxious and concerned that even the Doctor noticed.

"...are you ok?" he asked.

Clara took a breath and faced the trio of concerned faces, "I am sorry to ask, and I realize this is probably against the laws of time or something, but...um...could you do me a favor?"

Angel smiled, as though knowing what Clara was about to ask before she actually asked it, "Anything for family."

~8~

Tailor cautiously peeked out around the door of the TARDIS, looking up and down the street that they had landed on, calling back over her shoulder, "All clear."

Clara shook her head the girl's antics, but was appreciative of it when she stepped out to see herself down the street, in the process of walking away from her date with Danny. It would have been very awkward to walk into herself as she opened the door when she'd wanted to.

"Is that what I look like from the back?" she asked, eyeing her figure.

"It's fine," the Doctor shrugged, misinterpreting her words as a question of if that was really her and wanting to reassure her that it was safe for the timelines to go back into the restaurant.

"I was thinking it was good."

Angel laughed and moved to Clara, putting her hands on the girl's shoulders to nudge her back to the restaurant where she could see a man with his head on the table appearing just as regretful a date had ended badly as Clara had been when they first picked her up, "Go on," she urged, "He's just as sorry for how it went, trust me," she winked as Clara looked back at her.

"So that's him?' Tailor asked her mother as Clara entered the restaurant and moved to sit in front of the man.

"I believe so."

"Who's him?" the Doctor asked, but the two women just laughed and moved back into the TARDIS. The Doctor shrugged, unperturbed and followed them in...

~8~

Clara took a breath as she sat back down in front of Danny, hoping he wouldn't notice her change in footwear like he had her outfit change that one time. But he looked more stunned to see her back than anything.

"Sorry," she said quickly, just wanting to get it out.

Seeing his past, or part of it, seeing that little boy, Rupert, who she was pretty sure was actually Danny now and not a family member, it reminded her she didn't know much about him. She didn't know what made him tick and she didn't know what happened in his past. Her joke to her was just a joke, but to him it clearly upset him and it was insensitive of her to brush off the why. She owed it to Danny to really get to know him and his past.

"Hey," Danny began to smile, though it was cautious, as though he were afraid to say anything and risk it being the wrong thing.

Clara just held out her hand to him, "Hello. I am Clara Oswald. I'm a bit tricky sometimes, a bit up myself, and I don't like my surname, but I think that's basically everything you need to worry about."

Danny nodded, reaching out to shake her hand in return, "Hello, I'm...I'm sorry..."

"Also, I mouth off when I'm nervous," she added, not wanting him to apologize when they both had been a bit in the wrong, "And I've got a mouth on me. Seriously, it's got a mind of its own. I'm worried it wants to go solo."

"I don't know what to say," Danny chuckled lightly, pulling his hand away.

"Don't say anything. Or say something nice."

"I like your name."

"It's a start," Clara smiled.

"Oswald. It suits you."

"Drifting now," she warned him teasingly, recalling how he'd latched onto some topics earlier and not let them go.

"It's better than Pink," he argued lightly.

"No, Pink...Pink is nice. I like Pink."

"You can have it."

Clara felt herself blush, sure that he hadn't meant it the way she had instantly taken it, but felt a bit flirty herself, so she replied with, "Oh, a bold offer, Mr. Pink."

That seemed to cause Danny to realize how he'd phrased it, as though he were offering her his last name in terms of marriage, "I meant..." he began to stammer, "No..."

Clara reached across the table to put a hand on his, "I know, I know."

He sighed, shaking his head, mentally beating himself up for the state he was in, "Why can't I speak today?"

"It's that foot you're keeping in your mouth," Clara joked, though she knew she was just as guilty of doing that herself.

Luckily Danny took it in a better stride than earlier, "Is that where I put it?"

"Anyway," she chuckled, "Clara Pink? Too much."

"Yeah, it is a bit much," Danny agreed with a small laugh, though his face flushed in a way that told Clara he didn't think it was THAT much after all.

Clara struggled to find a safe topic to move to from surnames, and first names seemed a reasonable change that might help get them off names entirely soon, "Mind you, RUPERT Pink!"

Danny froze entirely, his expression fading from a smile to instant defense and suspicion, "Sorry?"

"Rupert...Pink?" Clara started to laugh nervously at his reaction, now honestly not sure if that WAS his name…perhaps the little boy was a twin? "It's not good."

"Rupert?"

"Yeah…that was your name, yeah?"

"Who told you that?" Danny demanded, sounding a little outraged.

Clara floundered for an answer that would make more sense than from time travel, which was just about every excuse ever thought of, but she went with the one that made the most sense to her overall, "Um...someone in the school?"

But Danny was shaking his head, "No, I haven't used that name for years."

"I cannot remember who it was, er..."

"Are you making fun of me?!"

Clara shook her head fiercely at that, "No! No, no, no, no way!"

"Is this a joke?"

"Danny," now she was starting to feel a little hurt and defensive herself at his reaction and what he thought of her, "Nothing about this is any kind of joke!"

She looked away, trying to come up with some way to salvage the situation…only to spot someone standing in a doorway near the back of the restaurant…wearing a spacesuit. Clara was going to kill the Doctor and then demand to know why Angel hadn't kept him locked in the TARDIS!

"Where's your coat?" Danny asked, pulling Clara back to her current, somewhat more pressing, situation with Danny.

"My what?"

"You put your coat on when you left."

Clara silently cursed how observant Danny was. She'd been worried he'd notice the change in her shoes that she'd completely forgotten she'd taken her coat with her and dropped it on the floor of her flat when she'd entered. She glanced over at the spacesuit, still standing there, but gesturing for her to follow it, starting to draw attention and knew she'd have to come up with something before Danny noticed, "I'm really sorry. Danny, um...there is something I should probably be honest about."

"How about everything?" he scoffed.

"Everything, in my case, is actually quite a lot."

"Well, that's weird."

"No, it's not weird, not really..." Clara frowned when Danny took a leaf out of her book and threw his napkin down on the table, getting up, "Where are you going?"

"I don't do weird."

"Don't go."

But Danny just leaned over to look at her, "Then do something for me, tell me the truth, because I know when people are lying to me. However weird this thing might be, just tell me the truth!"

Clara shook her head, "It's not weird…" she glanced over at the spacesuit to see that, thankfully, it had turned to move into the kitchens and not approach her table, "…exactly."

Danny didn't seem to appreciate her distraction, "I've had enough," he told her before turning to leave.

Clara huffed at that, debating, for just a moment, whether to go after Danny or deal with the Doctor. But if he was there and Angel hadn't stopped him…it had to mean something bad, yeah? So she took a breath and quickly strode across the restaurant to the kitchens…

~8~

It was very clear that Clara was NOT pleased with the situation as she stormed into the TARDIS after the spacesuited individual, "I am trying to have a date!" she was shouting at the man, to the confusion of the three Time Lords standing by the console, "A real life, inter-human actual date! It's a normal nice, everyday, meeting-up sort of thing, and I would just like to know, is there any other way you can make this any more surreal than it already is?"

But the moment the man took the helmet off to reveal a somewhat older black man, who bore a striking resemblance to the man from the restaurant, Clara fell into stunned silence.

"Hello?" he offered.

"Ah, Clara!" the Doctor cheered, rushing over, "Well done, you found her."

"I still don't see why I couldn't go get Aunt Clara," Tailor sighed, "I was going to dress up like a waiter and everything."

"Clara…you alright?" Angel asked, seeing Clara still gaping at the man.

"Danny?" Clara pointed at him.

"What's gone wrong with your face?" the Doctor asked before Angel or Tailor could answer, seeing Clara's eyes were impossibly wide, looking at the man, "It's all eyes! Why are you all eyes? Get them under control."

"Who's Danny?" the man shook his head.

"This is Colonel Orson Pink," Angel introduced.

"He's from about 100 years in your future, Aunt Clara," Tailor eyed her, mildly suspicious as to why these men...well, boy and man...kept appearing in her Aunt's timeline.

Clara just laughed nervously at the girl's tone, "Orson Pink?"

Well, it certainly was more surreal now.

Chapter Text

The Doctor chuckled at the look on Clara's face, mistaking it for a reaction to the humorous name the man had and not something else, "Yeah, I laughed too," he told her.

"Rude," Tailor fake-coughed into her hand.

"Sorry," he offered to Orson, before looking at Clara again, "Do you have any connection with him?"

"Connection?" Clara turned to him, he gaze flashing between him, Orson, and Angel.

"Yes, maybe you're like a distant relative or something?"

"My love, if he's from her future, she wouldn't know him yet," Angel reminded the Doctor, moving over to him, "And, it could just as easily be a remnant of how she got distracted before."

Clara let out a breath when Angel sent her a wink for the last part, not sure if she was happy or sad about that. On the one hand, if it was related to HER timeline and Orson was a future descendant of hers, looking so much like Danny, it would mean the mess that was their date wouldn't mean much in the long run as they would clearly work it out. But, on the other hand, she and Danny had only JUST gone for drinks and she wasn't sure she was ready to think that far in the future with him yet.

"Makes sense," the Doctor nodded to Angel's words.

"Have you got any old family photos?" Tailor, however, took right after her father and kept asking, though she sent Clara a wink of her own, teasing her about the boy she was dating and wondering if this Orson would be a result of their relationship, "Does she look familiar?"

"Well she probably would be quite old and really fat-looking by then," the Doctor tried to 'help,' from what he had seen of humans, they tended to gain weight and wrinkles the older they got.

"Or," Angel cut in, nudging the Doctor slightly, "She could look just as beautiful as she is now, just with grey hair."

"I don't," Orson spoke finally, glancing at the Doctor with a frown.

"Angel," Clara called out, "A word?" she nodded to the side, feeling like Angel was probably the only one there who would take this seriously without teasing her about it. The Doctor was oblivious and Tailor, god love her, would tease her endlessly and get too invested in her love life if she even caught a whiff that things might be more serious than a date.

Angel nodded and followed Clara off to the side, "Yes?"

"How did you find him?"

"There was still a trace of the timeline in the circuits. When we started Sissy up again, she brought us right to Orson. Poor man was terrified. And the Doctor and Tailor both think it has something to do with your timeline."

"…does it?"

"It really could be because you got distracted," Angel told her, though it sounded more like she was trying to offer Clara a different explanation than what she seemed to be dreading, "And it latched on to Rupert's timeline instead of yours."

"Ok…but DID it?" Clara asked again.

Angel gave her a small smile that told Clara she knew the real answer, "Do you really want to know?" she countered, "If I tell you, it can be creating the future. It could mean setting it in stone…"

"Right, yeah, um…don't then," Clara nodded to herself, "With how this date's gone, I'd rather have options."

Angel's smile only grew more knowing, but she changed the topic to Clara's relief, "Want to know where we found him?"

~8~

Clara looked out the window of a spaceship to see a barren and windswept landscape beyond scattered with craggy rocks and eerie shadows. They were in a spaceship, somewhat more advanced tech than she'd seen on Earth, but it made sense if this was Orson's craft and he was from the future. It was crashed though, stuck.

She turned to look at the Time Lords, the Doctor and Tailor looking around with interest while Angel rested back against the TARDIS, covering a yawn with her hand. Not a yawn of mock boredom, but a genuine yawn, "Where are we?"

"The end of the road," the Doctor said.

"We're right at the end of the Universe, Aunt Clara," Tailor told her…

'…they won't be able to track us there…'

…the TARDIS console was bland and white, almost like the first one he ever traveled in…

'…look how far I went, for fear of losing you…'

"The very last planet."

Angel shook her head from her vision, "Which we really shouldn't be," she added, with a look to the Doctor, "The last time we were on this planet, it didn't end well."

The Doctor made his way over to her where she was rubbing the corner of the TARDIS in comfort, the box humming with discontent. He reached out to take her hand, pressing a kiss to her temple, "We're on the complete other side of it," he reassured her, "I made sure of that at least. And the humans have already left the Silo, the Toclafane would stay closer to the Future Kind, they would never travel this far on a water run."

Angel took a deep breath at that, trying to find comfort in it. But the memories running through her mind of the Master, of Yana, of the Future Kind and the Toclafane, coupled with the vision she'd just had…it didn't make it easy to be calm here.

"Hold on," Clara shook her head, "We're at the end of the universe?" she could vaguely recall that that was an area completely off limits to Time Lords and Time Agents alike.

"The TARDIS isn't supposed to come this far," Angel agreed.

"But some idiot turned the safeguards off," the Doctor added.

"…dad, were you just rude to yourself?" Tailor gave her father an amused look for that.

The Doctor opened his mouth like he was going to counter that, when he realized she was right, and instead said, "Listen!"

"…to what?" Clara asked after a moment.

"Nothing. There's nothing to hear. There's nothing anywhere...not a breath, not a slither, not a click or a tick. All the clocks have stopped. This is the silence at the end of time."

Clara glanced over at Orson, who hadn't spoken a word since they returned to the craft and was puttering around emptying a cabinet into a bag, "Then how did he get here? If he's from 100 years in the future..."

"Get this, he's a pioneer time traveler!" Tailor exclaimed, excited as the Doctor used the sonic to bring up footage of the man's records on a monitor, "His efforts and those of his peers will open up the human race for time travel! It'll be what sparks the creation of the Time Agency centuries later. This is like…like…the first steps on the moon! Well, without the Silence making you kill them…"

"What?" Clara looked at her sharply for the last one.

"Nothing!"

The Doctor flinched at that, at the reminder of how he'd fallen, of how far into the darkness he'd gone after he'd forgotten Angel, of how he'd let himself be manipulated by River. He'd created that moment, he'd turned the humans into murderers, because River had suggested it. He'd nearly lost Angel for it, for what he'd done to her family, a family he couldn't quite find the same ties to without his memories of her.

"It was a…bad time," the Doctor offered when Clara immediately turned to him, rightly assuming it was something HE'D done, "Bad things happened."

Clara looked at Angel for that, "You didn't stop him?" it just sounded so…not like the Time Lords.

"I wasn't in a position to be heard," was all Angel could offer, carefully choosing her words so as not to hurt the Doctor more than he already was. That was something he was going to carry with him for the rest of his lives, she knew, that bout of amnesia, the things that happened during it. She didn't want to make him feel worse by specifically mentioning River or how he took her word over his Mate's, but she also didn't want Clara to keep asking what had happened and bring up the mention of River outright.

The Doctor cleared his throat and pointed at the monitor again, showing Orson before a crowd, waving at them, "He, um…rode the first of the great time shots. They were supposed to fire him into the middle of the next week."

Clara looked at the three Time Lords, Tailor having come closer and put an arm around her father's middle to hug him, and could tell whatever they weren't saying was something that truly hurt them. She would let it go for now, besides, she may very well have her own family crisis going on right now too, "What happened?"

"He went a bit far," Angel shrugged.

"A bit?" Clara scoffed.

The Doctor chuckled at that, "A big bit. Look at him now. Robinson Crusoe at the end of time itself, the last man standing in the universe. I always thought that would be me."

Angel looked up for a moment, something niggling in the back of her mind at his words. A feeling, a…sensation, but one she honestly couldn't decipher. She let out a breath at that, shaking her head, it would come to her eventually.

"It's not a competition," Clara grumbled with a roll of her eyes.

"I know it's not a competition, course it isn't. Still time, though."

"I really would rather none of us end up at the end of the universe again," Angel remarked, rubbing her head, unable to get that vision out of her thoughts, "Not Orson either."

Clara glanced around, observing Orson, "He looks like he's packing."

"He said he'd been stranded for six months," Tailor shrugged, "We told him we'd give him a lift."

"You can do it, then?" Orson nearly ran over to them, "You can get me home?"

"We just showed you, didn't we?" the Doctor huffed, "A test flight to a restaurant."

"Yes, but to my family, to my own time?"

"Of course," Angel reached out to touch the man's hand, squeezing it a moment in reassurance, "Or at least Tailor and I can."

"Oi!" the Doctor huffed.

"You ended up taking us to 1856 before mum took over," Tailor reminded him with a poke to his ribs.

"Yeah, trust Angel," Clara told Orson, though there was a tension and a strain in her voice and expression as she talked to him, "She can do it easy!"

Orson frowned at her, "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, fine. I'm fine."

"Do I know you?"

"No, nope."

"Is she doing the 'all eyes' thing?" the Doctor called, having turned back to the monitor and flicking through the data Orson had gathered since the crash, "It's because her face is so wide. She needs three mirrors!"

"Being rude, again, my love," Angel murmured to him, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek before she stepped away.

"We can't leave immediately, though," the Doctor called to the humans, "The TARDIS needs to recharge."

"Sorry...what?" Clara looked to Angel for that, not having heard of the TARDIS needing to recharge before.

"Sometimes the TARDIS does need to refuel," Angel offered, though she was shaking her head at the Doctor.

"Overnight, that should do it, shouldn't it?" the Doctor looked to Angel and Tailor for that, trying to give them a pointed look to go along with it.

Orson, however, was anything but, "Overnight?"

"One more night," the Doctor turned to approach the man, "That's...that's not a problem, is it?"

Angel frowned as Orson hesitated, "No. No, no problem."

"Oh, that's a shame, isn't it?"

"What's a shame?"

"There's only five people left in the universe and you're lying to the other four. Two of whom, I should warn you, are psychics and can tell when you're lying. It was the first thing I noticed when I stepped in here. You must have seen it, too, Clara, you've got eyes out to here!" he made a gesture.

Clara shook her head at his remark, "Seen what?"

"Everything, all things, must die eventually," Angel said sadly.

The Doctor nodded and pointed at her, "The universe is dead. Everything that ever was is dead and gone. There is nothing beyond this door but nothingness forever. So…" he pointed back at Tailor without looking.

"Why is the door locked?" Tailor asked.

"Please..." Orson nearly begged, "Don't make me spend another night here."

"Afraid of the dark?" the Doctor stepped closer, "But the dark...is empty now."

"No. No, it isn't."

Angel glanced over at the window to see the planet was starting to go dark. The lights on the outside of the ship were settling into sleep-mode now. Her attention moved over to the Doctor, seeing him back at the monitor and reviewing the data with Tailor. She knew he would take Orson's words as 'proof' that this monster under the bed existed outside the chamber.

But wouldn't that disprove all his theories up to this point? He'd been adamant that this creature was always with them, that you began to talk to yourself because it was in the room with you. But now he seemed certain that it was outside the capsule and not with Orson?

He would take Orson's words as proof, but she could think of another reason for Orson to lock the doors, she could FEEL it radiating off him. And she nearly wanted to cry at the thought that the poor man had gotten to that point. It was why she had always hated the dark, when you were left alone in it, there was nothing to focus on but yourself and your thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turned dark as well.

~8~

Clara led Orson into the TARDIS upon Angel's request. Just because the Doctor wanted them to spend another night there, didn't mean Orson had to spend it in the capsule, he could choose anywhere in the TARDIS to sleep for the night. She had his pack over her shoulder while he carried a metal case in both hands.

"You'll be safe in here," she reassured him, "Nothing gets through those doors, I promise."

"And you all are going to wait out there?" Orson frowned.

"That would seem to be the plan. Though I'm guessing, at some point, the Doctor's going to make Tailor, Angel, and I come back in here. Angel won't listen though," she smiled a bit at the thought, "She'll want to make sure he doesn't do anything foolish. Which means I'll have to probably drag Tailor in with me so we can work the console and save the Doctor from whatever he's waiting for…which is what exactly?"

Orson blinked, following Clara down a few stairs, and honestly a little confused by her tangent, but he shook his head, not wanting to answer, "Why can't we just leave?"

"Like he said, it's recharging."

"You didn't look like you believed him."

"That's just how my face looks when he talks."

"That Angel girl didn't look like she believed him either."

Clara sighed at that, "She…may be going along with it for now," she told him, "The Doctor's been…really on edge this last trip, Angel's worried about him. She's always worried about him, but more this time. She hopes he'll find whatever he's looking for and be alright af…ter…" she trailed off, having put down the pack only for a small container to fall out with Dan the Soldier Man, the small plastic action figure, inside it.

"It's just a silly toy thing," Orson offered as she picked it up and stared at it, "Family heirloom, supposed to bring good luck."

Right. Yes. Didn't do a very good job, did it?"

"It did. You're here, aren't you? What were the chances of you lot finding me? I mean, one of you is literally called an Angel so…"

"Orson..." Clara turned to him, handing him the case, "Do me a favor, take my advice when you get home, stay away from time travel."

"It runs in the family," Orson called out when she moved to head back up the stairs.

Clara stopped near the top and turned to look at him again, "What? Sorry, what do you mean, 'runs in the family?'"

"Nothing, it's just silly stories. One of my grandparent…well, great-grandparents..."

"What is it? Tell me! You asked if you knew me," she looked down when Orson held out the Soldier Man to her, out of its box, "It's a family heirloom?" she asked, not sure if she should actually take it or not.

"Yeah."

Clara just stared down at it.

~8~

"I'm bored," Tailor remarked as she laid down on two crates pushed together off to the side of the room, tossing a small ball of crumpled paper into the air to catch it.

Clara, who was sitting on a small chair just staring at nothing nodded, agreeing, before she glanced over at the Doctor and Angel. They were both sitting on the floor, their legs outstretched, the man was staring at the monitor, while Angel had her head resting on his shoulder, their hands entwined between them.

"What are we doing?" Clara asked them.

"Waiting," the Doctor answered.

"For how much longer?" Tailor called, a bit of a whine in her voice.

"I waited over a thousand years in an exploding TARDIS," Angel told her, "I'm sure we can wait for one overnight stay."

Tailor just groaned, letting the paper ball fall and roll away from her, before she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Well then what are we waiting for? Or who are we waiting for? If everybody in the universe is dead, then there's nobody out there."

"That's one way of looking at it," the Doctor mumbled.

"What's the other?"

"It is not the monster under the bed," Angel told him, rolling her head to look at him.

"I was going to say that's a hell of a lot of ghosts."

"No ghosts either," Angel added.

Clara looked up when the lights began to slowly fade from red to a deep blue, "Do you have your own mood lighting now? Because, frankly, the accent is enough."

The Time Lords looked over for her remark, noticing the change in the lights.

"Dad…" Tailor began, sitting up and staring at the airlock where the words 'Don't open the door' were written above it.

"Where did that come from?" Clara frowned at it.

"It's always been there," Angel murmured, her voice so sad as she looked at it.

"It's only visible in the night light," the Doctor agreed.

"But who wrote it?" Clara asked.

"Colonel Pink. Apparently, at night, he needs a reminder. Six months stranded alone, I suppose it must be tempting."

"More than," Angel murmured, understanding.

"What is?" Clara looked at them.

"Company," the Doctor answered.

Angel let out a sigh, alright so she and the Doctor were understanding very different things right now. And the pit in her stomach told her that her understanding was the right one.

"What's that?" Clara gasped when a sound of creaking began.

"What kind of explanation would you like?"

"A reassuring one."

"Systems switch to low power," Tailor offered, getting off the crates to wander, though stopping closer to the TARDIS, "There are temperature differentials all over this ship. Pipes clang and wood creaks in different temperatures."

"Always thought there was something in the pipes."

The Doctor hummed, resting back against the wall and absently playing with Angel's fingers, "Who were you having dinner with?"

"What?" Clara looked at him, startled he was asking and taking an interest, "Are you making conversation?"

"I thought that I would give it a try."

"Angel already told you. A date."

"Serious?"

"It's a date."

"A serious date?"

Clara laughed at that, "Do I have to bring him to you for approval?"

"I want to meet him!" Tailor quickly raised her hand in the air like a child in a school classroom, grinning widely at Clara for it.

"I, for one, would like to know about his prospects," the Doctor spoke, "If you like, I can pop ahead and check them out."

"Frankly, you've already done enough," Clara waved it off.

"It's sweet," Angel smiled at them, nudging the Doctor, "Checking after your sister," she teased him, though he returned her smile.

"Well, I have to make sure she's safe with this bloke," he reasoned, "I hate seeing my girls upset."

Clara started to smile at that as well. The Doctor was…so different than the last him. He was like two different people around humans compared to his family. Sometimes…sometimes it felt like he forgot SHE had been counted as his family once too. He would call her his sister, but sometimes he'd make remarks that she wasn't sure if he thought they were teasing in a sibling way or if he was genuinely looking at her as just another human. It was reassuring to hear him talk like that, that he wanted to meet Danny to make sure he was 'good enough' for his sister.

She almost began to laugh loudly when she realized, if this was him when she, his sister, was only barely starting to date someone…what would he be like if Tailor, his daughter, ever took an interest in someone?

God help the poor soul.

She opened her mouth to thank him for his concern but tell him it wouldn't be necessary when a loud screeching went off, prompting the Doctor to hurry to his feet and look around.

"Atmospheric pressure equalizing..." he murmured.

"Or…" Clara slowly stood too, sensing more to it.

"Company."

"It's not company," Angel called out, still sitting against the wall even as the Doctor moved around the room.

"Why are we doing this?" Clara looked at the Time Lords, "Why don't we just go?"

"Because I need to know," the Doctor said at the same time that Angel and Tailor both spoke, "Because he needs to know."

He'd said it enough times. And if he was going so far as to not trust in Angel's sensations, it was something he would not give up until the bitter end.

"Why? About what?"

"Suppose that there are creatures that live to hide," the Doctor began, "That only show themselves to the very young or the very old or the mad or anyone who wouldn't be believed..."

"You would have seen it centuries ago, Dad," Tailor remarked, trying to lighten the mood. Clara was clearly starting to get freaked out, and her father was on edge. Her mother was calm though and that was reassuring to her.

The Doctor shook his head at her, "What would those creatures do when everyone was gone, when there was only one man left standing in the universe?"

A metallic knocking noise sounded, three in a row, near the airlock.

"What's that?" Clara stared at it in growing horror.

"The hull cooling," Angel called over to them.

"Potentially," the Doctor just HAD to add.

"'Potentially?'" Clara hissed at them, when three more sounds went off.

"Someone knocking," the Doctor spoke as three more happened, "Yes…"

"Dad…" Tailor shook her head when he approached the airlock for the next three sounds.

"Doctor, you don't actually believe all this, do you?" Clara asked, seeming to realize this may not actually be a creature but more him. The knocks, they were happening far too timed. The same amount of time between each knock, the same time between sets, "Hiding creatures, things from under the bed."

The sound went off again, "What's that in the mirror?" he murmured, "Or the corner of your eye? What's that footstep following, but never passing by?"

"What lingers in the dark?" Angel countered, pushing herself up to stand as well when another three sounds went off, "What always seems to hide? It's nothing, not a monster, it's what's inside you and I. My love," she stepped over to the Doctor's side, taking his hand, "It's nothing."

The sounds went off twice more, sounding louder. The Doctor pulled out the sonic and flashed it at the airlock, unlocking it, watching as the door began to turn and open.

"That's you turning, right?" Clara stepped back to Tailor's side near the TARDIS.

"No," Angel sighed, calling the Vortex from within her to help with what would inevitably happen. And it had nothing to do with monsters, but physics and science.

Unlocking the door depressurized it, it made the door open on its own to equalize the pressure. But once it opened, the pressure inside the room would rush out, causing a vacuum. It was no monster at all, but she needed to get Clara and Tailor, and the Doctor if possible, into the TARDIS to protect them more.

"Get in the TARDIS!" the Doctor seemed to have the same thought.

"Why?" Clara shook her head.

"I have to know…" he murmured more to himself, not even entertaining the thought that they weren't listening.

"The pressure!" Tailor realized, and grabbed Clara's arm, pulling HER to the TARDIS instead of what Clara had assumed earlier, "Mum!"

"The TARDIS, now!" Angel shouted this time, "It's a pressure lock, releasing it is triggering the opening mechanism."

"Is there an atmosphere out there?" Clara gasped, understanding.

"There's an air shell round the ship," Tailor told her, "But it will be lost when the door opens, come on Aunt Clara!"

"We can't just leave them in danger!"

"Mum!" Tailor shouted out.

"Go!" Angel yelled again, a swirl of gold going up around the Doctor who was never going to move, which was all Clara and Tailor needed to know they were safe, and so they ran into the TARDIS just as the airlock door stopped spinning.

"What's happening?" Orson called as Tailor and Clara ran to the console, Tailor bringing up the monitor.

"He's opening the door," Clara told him.

"Perhaps they're all just waiting," they could hear the Doctor just barely through the power of the Vortex as they appeared on the screen, "Perhaps when we're all dead, out they'll come a-slithering from underneath the bed."

"Oh, no, no, no, not now!" Clara shouted when the screen flickered just as the door opened, "Come on!"

"Aunt Idris!" Tailor shouted, barely making out her parents standing there, waiting, knowing there would only be moments before the pressure began to equalize, "A little help!"

"Oh always when it's important!"

They were suddenly thrown off-balance when a thump hit the TARDIS.

"What's happening?" Orson cried out, alarms going off.

"What's that?" Clara called over it.

"Picking up an air shell breach," Tailor told them, slapping the monitor and getting the picture back.

There were things flying around the capsule, Angel and the Doctor within a swirl of gold as Angel tried to back them up to the doors. The air was being sucked out of the capsule and Angel looked like she was struggling to keep enough focus to combat the vacuum and the objects being sucked out of the door.

"Door!" Tailor shouted, and Clara was rushing for it, Orson close behind as she struggled to reach out enough to touch Angel's shield but not get sucked out herself.

A moment later she and Orson were able to reach through the shield, Angel sensing they were not a threat and letting them through. They grabbed Angel and the Doctor by the arm, pulling them back into the TARDIS. Clara nearly fell back when she got the Doctor in, Orson slamming the doors shut once Angel was safe, but the Doctor had fallen. She hadn't expected to have grabbed the Doctor and she hadn't been prepared to have to handle his weight, she'd stumbled and lost her hold on him and he'd hit the ground a bit hard, knocking himself out.

"Dad!" Tailor shouted, hurrying over when she saw him fall, "Is he ok?" she looked to her mother as Angel knelt beside him.

"He's knocked out, but he's fine," she promised her son.

"What was out there?" Clara looked at Orson, who was staring at the door more than anyone else, looking afraid of what was beyond, "What were you so afraid of?"

"I've been here a long time," Orson began, before shaking his head, "My own shadow, probably."

"Yeah."

They looked over as a rumble sounded on the other side of the door, "Before any of you start," Angel spoke, sounding rather done with all this, "That is the rest of the air escaping."

"And that?" Clara called as the TARDIS began to shake, banging noises going off.

"We're never supposed to travel this far," Angel told her, "We need to leave. Sissy does NOT want to be here any longer."

The TARDIS would not have left them stranded there and piloted herself away without them in the console room. But right now the box really wanted to not be at the end of the Universe any longer. As though to emphasize that point, the cloister bell went off.

"Tailor, Clara!" Angel called, "Can you…" she nodded at the console, moving to try and get the Doctor away from the doors and to one of the seats so she could heal him. They nodded and hurried over to start the piloting sequence, Orson moving to help Angel and hauling up the Doctor, "Telepathic circuits, Clara," she added, "It'll be easier for you without another pilot helping Tailor."

When she had been teaching Clara, it had been with the intention that she, the Doctor, and Tailor would be piloting with her. She and the Doctor could easily do the work of two pilots when needed, but Tailor, for as advanced as she was, would not be able to do much in this situation.

"Oh Doctor," Angel murmured to the Doctor as Orson got him into one of the arm chairs, "I am quite cross with you right now," she told him, holding her hands to his temples to help heal the bump he'd gotten when he'd fallen.

A moment later the TARDIS was off with a lurch, sending Angel and Orson to the ground.

"Sorry!" Clara called, "That was me!"

"Aunt Clara, focus on the present," Tailor called to her, "On Earth, on…on that date. Anything!"

Clara looked up at the Time Lady to nod, but it appeared that thought got caught in the circuits and the lights began to flash, machinery grinding.

"Clara!" Angel called…when suddenly everything just stopped with a jolt that threw them to the ground again.

"Oh my stars…" Tailor breathed as she gaped at the monitor, looking at the readings of it.

"What is it?" Clara moved over, squinting but unable to read the Gallifreyan information.

"Where are we?" Orson sat up.

Angel let out a breath, "Tailor?" she called when the girl headed for the door, "You shouldn't."

Tailor looked back at her mother, tears in her eyes, knowing her mother could probably sense where they'd landed, knowing her Aunt Idris was telling her right now, "I have to, mum," she told the woman, "This may be my only chance."

Angel swallowed hard, but understood how her daughter felt. She had felt the same when she'd seen the Doctor's TARDIS for the first time. Like she was terrified to step outside of it for fear of never being in it again, that it would disappear. She had gotten something back she'd lost…

Right now her daughter wanted a chance to get something back she'd never had.

"Clara," she looked at the woman, "Go with her," she asked, knowing it would be too much for her to go with Tailor. The temptation, the sorrow that would follow if she fought against that temptation. But Clara wouldn't have that feeling.

Clara frowned, looking between the two women, but nodded, hurrying over to the doors and stepping out with Tailor, leaving Orson and Angel to look after the Doctor.

~8~

Clara hadn't been sure what to expect when she stepped out of the TARDIS after Tailor, but a dark barn with someone sleeping on a small loft bed was not it. It took her a moment to realize that the child on the bed wasn't sleeping, he was crying

"Tailor," she whispered to the girl who seemed completely stunned and more than a little moved to be there, "Where are we? Is that Rupert or…or Orson?"

"Aunt Clara…" Tailor breathed, reaching out to take the woman's hand, "We're on Gallifrey. I'm…I'm standing on Gallifrey. I'm home."

Clara's eyes widened at that, now understanding Angel and Tailor's reaction. The girl had never set foot on Gallifrey in her life, having been born off-world. This was the first, perhaps only chance she might get to be there given that her parents were still trying to find their planet.

"Who's up there?" Clara asked after a moment as they approached the loft, Tailor more looking around at everything.

"It's dad," she told her, "I can't…I shouldn't…" she looked at her Aunt, pained. She wanted to help comfort the crying child, but the timelines would be sensitive and delicate right now. It would be worse for HER, being his daughter, to interact with him right now, but…maybe not Clara.

The woman seemed to understand, nodding her head and making her way up onto the loft as Tailor stayed below, looking to see the child was hidden under a blanket. She had only just reached for the blanket, when Tailor hissed out a warning to hide moments before a door opened.

Clara dove down, hiding under the bed as a woman and a man approached.

"Why does he have to sleep out here?" the man asked.

"He doesn't want the others to hear him crying," the woman told him.

"Why does he have to cry all the time?"

"You know why."

"There'll be no crying in the army."

"Hush!"

"Don't pretend you're not awake," the man spoke to the child, "We're not idiots."

"Come and sleep in the house. You don't have to be alone! If you can hear me, you're very welcome in the house, with the other boys. I'll leave the door on the latch. Come in, any time."

"He can't just run away crying all the time if he wants to join the army," the man grumbled as they turned to leave.

"He doesn't want to join the army. I keep telling you."

"Well, he's not going to the Academy, is he, that boy? He'll never make a Time Lord."

~8~

"I'm sorry," Angel murmured to Orson as she glanced between the Doctor, waiting for him to rouse, and the doors, waiting for her daughter to come back with Clara.

"It wasn't your fault the Doctor wanted to stay longer," Orson mumbled.

But Angel reached out to take his hand, "No. Well, I mean, I AM sorry about that, but that wasn't what I was talking about."

"What then?"

She squeezed his hand, "I know what it feels like," she told him gently, "To be alone, to have no one, and to think you just wish it would stop. The dark leaves us no choice but to be by ourselves, with just our thoughts. And, eventually, those thoughts can turn just as dark. What's wrong with us? Why weren't we good enough or clever enough to stop this? Why can't we fix it? Why does no one else care? Why is no one else helping?"

Orson stared at her a long while, "But…but you've got this box, and…and them," he nodded around, "A husband, a child, friends…"

"I didn't always," Angel corrected, not about the Doctor being her husband, that didn't matter right now, "I've been down before. I've felt that hopeless. I've lost…everything I loved, or what felt like everything. I've been alone even when there were people around me. I've considered stepping out those doors and never coming back, like you did."

Orson looked away, a bit startled she had gathered that about him. He'd written that message above the door for himself. Because after six months, things felt hopeless. And when you start to be alone enough you wonder what the point was of waiting it out. He'd thought of opening that door and either walking out onto the planet and letting his supply of air run out, or just letting it suck him out without his helmet.

"What kept you going?" he asked her.

Angel smiled, "There's always a light in the dark. There's always a way to find…sunshine to make you happy."

Orson's eyes widened at that, "When skies are grey."

"Exactly," Angel nodded.

"That's…that's something I'd sing to myself, when I wanted to give up," he admitted, "It's…an old family lullaby. I um…" he glanced at the door, "I had a good luck charm, an old action figure one of my great-grandparents passed down in the family. They said it'd keep us safe, that it'd help find a light in the dark."

"And did it?"

He just smiled, "You're the psychic, you should know."

Angel returned his smile, knowing the Doctor hadn't exactly specified SHE was the psychic, so he knew from something else. She couldn't help glancing at the door where Clara had gone and back at Orson.

…a Cyberman with the face of a young man caught a bracelet tossed over to him…

'…the bracelet can bring you home…

…a young boy stepped through a wall of white, right into Clara's flat, the light flickering away behind him…

She gasped, jumping out of her skin when the Doctor suddenly shouted as he woke, "Sontarans! Perverting the course of human history!"

"My love?" Angel called to him gently, "Calm down."

The Doctor took the hands she had placed on either side of his cheeks and held them, taking a deep breath, focusing, until he noticed something, "Where's Tailor? And, for that matter, where's Clara?"

~8~

"Hello?" the child on the bed called, hearing the Doctor shouting inside the TARDIS for Tailor and Clara, "Who's there?

Clara looked over, spotting Tailor as she hurried back to the TARDIS to try and calm her father down.

"Hello?" the boy sat up and put his legs to the floor.

Clara reacted instantly, needing to stop him getting up and seeing the TARDIS, so she grabbed his ankle. And now it all made sense to her. She had looked up to see Tailor piloting, and had thought about the Time Lady, which made her think about not just that but when SHE had been a Time Lady, how she had met the Doctor's first incarnation. But the trace in the telepathic circuit were already set to go to the nightmare, and so here she was…creating it.

"It's ok," she whispered to the child, "This is just a dream. Just lie back again, just lie back on the bed. It will all be ok if you just lie down and go to sleep. Just do that for me. Just sleep," she let go of his ankle and he pulled his legs back up. She slowly crawled out from under the bed to look down at the child, now crying for a new reason. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to her, and ran her fingers through his hair, "Listen...this is just a dream. But very clever people can hear dreams. So, please, just listen. I know you're afraid…but being afraid is alright. Because didn't anybody ever tell you…fear is a superpower? Fear can make you faster and cleverer and stronger. And one day, you're going to come back to this barn, and on that day you are going to be very afraid indeed. But that's ok. Because if you're very wise and very strong...fear doesn't have to make you cruel or cowardly...fear can make you kind. It doesn't matter if there's nothing under the bed or in the dark, so long as you know it's ok to be afraid of it. So, listen. If you listen to nothing else, listen to this. You're always going to be afraid even if you learn to hide it. There will be someone with you who will always know and always try to make you feel better. But if it doesn't work, that's ok too. Fear is like...a companion, a constant companion, always there. But that's ok, because fear can bring us together. Fear can bring you home. I'm going to leave you something, just so you'll always remember...fear makes companions of us all," she reached into a pocket of her dress and placed Dan the Soldier Man on the small table beside the boy, who wasn't crying anymore.

She smiled, nodding her head, before she stood and began to leave, heading back for the TARDIS.

~8~

"What happened?" Orson called out as soon as Clara stepped back into the TARDIS, "What's out there?"

She looked over at the Doctor who was being hugged tightly by Tailor and hugging her back just as tight. From the expression on his face, she knew that he knew what planet they'd landed on. Tailor would never keep something like that from her father, nor would Angel her Mate.

"Take off," she told him, "And promise me you'll never look where we've been."

The Doctor looked at Angel as she nodded and moved to ready the TARDIS to leave. He knew what was out there, he knew why Angel hadn't gone while Tailor had. And he knew, he couldn't go out there, not with his daughter in his arms needing him, not when his quest to find this nightmare creature had caused them all such stress and pain. It was time to let go.

~8~

Clara smiled as she watched the TARDIS fade as she stood in the hall before a small apartment door. They had dropped off Orson, the man overjoyed to be home again, she'd even gotten a hug out of the Doctor for his help even though he'd joked about being against the hugging. And now here she was, about to try and make something else right, knowing Angel would be able to make the Doctor right.

So she took a breath and rang the doorbell of the flat, waiting a moment till Danny opened it.

He seemed shocked to see her there, but apologetic as well, I am so..."

"I know," Clara cut in, gesturing at the flat and he stepped aside to let her in, leading her over to a sofa for her to join him and talk on.

"I just get nervous," he tried to explain.

"Me too."

"I don't even know what I'm nervous of!"

Clara smiled at that, "I'll show you," and leaned in to kiss him.

If there was one thing she had learned from the Time Lords, it was never to give up on what was important to you and she could tell Danny would be very important to her one day.

~8~

Angel watched as the Doctor walked up to the chalkboard on the upper level of the TARDIS, Tailor having gone to bed, now feeling tired enough to sleep. He moved over to the 'LISTEN' that was written there and underlined it.

"Are you ready to listen to me now?" she asked gently, leaning against the console with her arms crossed as he sighed and moved back down the stairs, sitting on the last few to look at her, "I told you it was nothing. That this…creature under the bed doesn't exist. You've always listened to me in the past, why not now?"

"I had to KNOW," he repeated.

"So you've said."

He rubbed his head, resting it in his hands a moment, "I couldn't risk not being sure," he looked up at her.

"Where is all this coming from? Your mind is racing so fast I can't understand a single thought in it," she moved to sit beside him, winding her arm through his, "What's wrong, my love?"

"I…had a nightmare," he told her, admitting it now, "I was…I was regenerating, but there was a Silence, it was my last body and I…I woke up so terrified that one was on board. I searched, I ran scans, there was nothing. We're safe," he promised her.

"Sissy would never allow another one inside her again," Angel agreed.

"I went to get some milk and Kitta was there, she'd had a dream too, that she'd gotten out of bed and…"

"And something grabbed her leg?"

"Yes, and I realized I'D had that dream and WHY did so many people have it?" he shook his head, letting out a sigh, "I…all I could think about was if there WAS something under there, some creature, some enemy that couldn't be seen or noticed. That not even you could sense and…I needed to know. I didn't know about the Silence, I hadn't even realized it was there, and it cost me…everything."

"You were afraid there was another enemy," Angel realized, finally understanding.

"I needed to know if it was real, I couldn't risk not being sure. If it was real, I needed to know how to fight it, I need to keep you safe, Nella, you and Kitta. I cannot lose you again and I couldn't stand not knowing you were safe."

Angel let out a long breath, getting his franticness now, understanding it was a combination of the Mating instinct and his paternal instincts driving him to this point. He had needed to be sure that they were safe even when they were alone, he needed to be sure no creature like that existed.

He had finally realized it didn't.

It HAD been a child in Rupert's room, there had been nothing outside the capsule Orson traveled in. He had seen it through the Vortex, nothing there. All his fears and concerns, his hysteria had been just that, hysteria. But it was…sweet, in a sense, that he was just that worried for his family he would go to extremes to keep them safe.

"I am stronger now than I have ever been," she reminded him, "I am only growing stronger with each day I live. Believe me when I tell you, my love, there is no creature like that. The only danger I felt on this trip was when you opened the door to Orson's capsule."

"Yes…sorry about that."

"I forgive you, but only if you promise to TALK to me about your fears, about your nightmares. I think we've established you don't do well not talking about your bad dreams," she nudged him a bit, reminding him of the hell he'd been through not sharing his dreams with her last time they plagued him, "I can help."

"You always help," he admitted, leaning in to kiss her, laughing when, halfway through it turned into a yawn, "Oh, thanks!"

She laughed, shaking her head, "I was sleeping so nicely before I was so rudely woken to my daughter afraid her father had finally gone mad."

"Yes, I owe you a rest," the Doctor patted her knee, before standing and holding out a hand to her, the two of them starting to walk towards the halls, "You know, I think I've worked out why I had that nightmare."

"Oh? What was it?"

"I woke up and you were across the bed," he gave her a mock-accusing look, "I always sleep best when you're in my arms."

She smiled, "Well then, we'd best test that theory."

Chapter Text

"What are we watching for?" Tailor asked as she crouched beside her father, the two of them watching the spinning of Clara's clothes dryer go. The Doctor had been looking at it so intently she figured there must be something in there to see. But she just saw clothes.

"The Satanic Nebula," he answered.

Tailor gave it an odd look, "Doesn't quite look it to me."

"Or…the lagoon of lost stars..." he glanced over at a fishbowl nearby.

"Still not seeing it."

"Or we could go...to Brighton!"

"Oh, you were thinking of where our next adventure is," Tailor realized when he straightened up, "Why were we looking at the wash again then?"

"No idea," he answered with a smile that had her rolling her eyes, before calling out to Angel and Clara as they were in the bedroom of Clara's flat, "I've got a whole day worked out."

"My love, I think Clara's got other plans," Angel replied as he and Tailor appeared in the doorway. She was behind Clara, helping to put a necklace on the woman who was all dressed up for a night on the town.

"Has she?" the Doctor asked as he leaned on the doorway.

"Look at me," Clara turned, grabbing a jacket to complete her suit-like outfit and opening her arms to show him her clothes.

"Yeah, ok?"

"No, no, no, no," Clara tried to flip her hair a bit, "Look at me."

"Yep, looking."

"Seriously?" Clara looked over at Tailor for that.

"Give him a mo," the girl reassured her.

"Why is your face all colored in?" the Doctor finally began to get some of it.

"She has plans, Doctor," Angel reminded him, moving to sit at the vanity, "A date."

"A date?" the Doctor looked at Clara.

~8~

"7:15," Danny said as he stood near her in a classroom of Coal Hill, "Meeting me. You are. Date. Second one."

"Got the words out," she smiled at him, "Not in the right order, but, hey...maths teacher!"

They had just leaned in to kiss, a small one, a quick peck as they were both still at their jobs…when a kid ran into the room, interrupting.

"Out!" they both shouted.

~8~

"Are you taller?" the Doctor continued, shaking Clara from her memory.

"Well, he's getting it," Tailor remarked, moving over to her mother's side and fiddling with her hair.

"Heels," Clara told the Doctor, kicking out a leg behind her to show him her shoes.

"What, do you have to reach a high shelf?" he frowned.

"And now he's lost it," Tailor quipped.

"Right, got to go," Clara sighed, knowing she wasn't going to get through to him now, "Going to be late."

"For a shelf?" the Doctor called.

Angel smiled gently as she watched Clara leave, the Doctor going after her. It was actually a little sweet how the Doctor didn't seem to connect the dots or believe Clara really was on a date. To him, Clara was a younger sister, as a human she was just a child, she was 'too young' to be dating or have a boyfriend. So even when he was told she was on a date, his mind brushed it off because they must be joking, she was too young. That and he hadn't met her boyfriend so it was easier for him to pretend that Clara wasn't dating then too.

"Mum," Tailor murmured to her, "If dad's like this when Aunt Clara dates, what's he going to be like if I ever start dating?"

"He's firmly of the belief that you're not allowed to date until you're 7 billion," Angel told her, "That and he's also certain you would only date another Time Lord."

"But there aren't any other…"

"Exactly," Angel laughed at her pout as she stood, "I don't care who you date, Kitta, as long as you're happy and they love you just as much as your father loves me."

"Oh, not you too, mum!" Tailor mock-groaned, "That's even more impossible!"

Angel shook her head with a small smile as she nudged her daughter out into the hall after the Doctor and Clara. It was sweet that Tailor thought no one could love another as much as her parents did each other.

"Bye!" Clara called as she reached the door, waving back at them…right when the TARDIS phone began to ring. She gestured over to it, "There you go, you've got another playmate," but she hesitated when she saw the three Time Lords had stilled and were just staring at the box, watching it ring.

"Hardly anyone in the universe has that number," the Doctor murmured.

"Well, I'VE got it," Clara pointed out.

"Yes, from some woman in a shop. We STILL don't know who that was."

'…computer helpline, love. That's the one. Best helpline in the universe…'

…a woman with black hair in a purple dress smirked…

'…I kept you together…'

"Is that her now?" Clara asked.

"No," Angel shook her head from her vision, wondering if that woman she'd seen was truly the one that had given Clara the number for the TARDIS and who she was. She wasn't familiar to her, "No, it's not her."

"Well, you must be able to work it out," Tailor looked between her parents, "There's not many people who have the direct line. Mum would be rushing to answer it if it was one of the family…who else has it?"

The Doctor grew grim at the thought, there were only a handful. But one in particular made him very reluctant to answer. But he had to remind himself Angel hadn't said it was River Song calling, and if it wasn't her…it could be someone in terrible need of help.

"Don't," Clara called out as the Doctor made his way to the front panel of the box.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because, if you answer it, something will happen."

"Oh, are you psychic now?"

"No, but something always happens."

"It's just a phone, Clara. Nothing happens when you answer the phone," and so he reached out to answer it…

~8~

Angel screamed throwing a worm wiggling in her hand to the side, onto a round table she, the Doctor, Tailor, and Clara were sitting at with two other people, a man and a woman. She moved out of her seat, stumbling away from the table as the Doctor jumped up to go after her, pulling her into his arms tightly, already seeing the terror in her mind and needing to reassure her. It was a memory worm, she'd been holding it, as had he and the others. But it was the sudden appearance of it, the realization that he and Tailor were holding it too that upset her.

"It's fine," he reassured her, murmuring into her ear, "I'm fine, Tailor's fine, we haven't forgotten."

Well, they HAD forgotten. They appeared to be in some sort of warehouse, but the last thing he could recall was answering the phone in Clara's flat. Looking at her mind as she scrambled to work out what she had forgotten too told him she was the same. They had forgotten but not what Angel was most afraid of. The fact that they'd forgotten anything alarmed Angel, but he knew she was truly frightened of what else they'd lost. He had not had the best history with remembering important things when others wanted to force him to forget.

"I remember," he continued to hold her tightly, hoping his actions alone would help her realize her worst fears weren't occurring again, "I remember you, Nella," he lowered his voice, making sure no one heard him but her.

That seemed to do it as she took a deep breath, clutching at him tightly for another moment as she calmed down, reassured and seeing in his mind how he was bringing up his most cherished memories of her, of the two of them, through his last few incarnations. She nodded to herself, taking another breath before she pulled back somewhat, "Sorry."

"Never apologize," he told her, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, resting his to hers afterwards, "It's understandable."

"…you alright?" Clara called gently after a minute.

Angel nodded, looking over to see Clara and Tailor had gotten up to try and check on her before the Doctor had gotten to her, both looked deeply concerned, "I'll be fine."

Tailor moved over to hug her mother as well, "It's ok, mum," she reassured her with a quiet whisper, not needing a direct line to her mind to know what had frightened her mother so much.

"Oi!" the Doctor shouted when he saw the two odd people who were still sitting at the table reaching out to poke at the worm, "Don't touch it!"

The two others held their hands up in innocence.

"Um, Doctor," Clara murmured as she stepped closer to them, "Where are we? How did we get here?"

"Who are you?" the man called over to them, not pleased that they were whispering about the situation without them, "Sorry, what's going on? I don't understand."

"What is that thing?" the woman beside him grimaced when she poked the worm, unable to help herself. Though her face morphed into a wormlike form for a moment before she let go of it.

"He just said don't touch it!" Tailor reminded the woman.

"It's called a memory worm," Angel explained to them, "It deletes your memories."

Clara, however, was more fixated on the woman as her face morphed back to normal, "What happened to your face?" she looked at the Time Lords, "Did you see her face?"

"How did I get here?" the woman asked instead of answering. The man beside her could only shrug, not sure himself.

"The same way we all did," the Doctor remarked, "But we've all forgotten."

"Can you remember anything, Angel?" Clara looked at her, "Any sensations? Visions?"

Angel tried to focus, to see if she might be able to see into the past, see what had happened. But there was nothing there, just a vague sensation that they hadn't been forced to forget. And if she had chosen to forget, perhaps the Vortex sensed that and wouldn't allow her to remember. She could only shake her head in response.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded.

"I am the Doctor," his voice said, but the Doctor wasn't the one speaking, just a recording coming from the table, beside a silver suitcase, "A Time Lord from Gallifrey. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."

"I am the Tailor," Tailor's voice continued, "A Time Lady of Gallifrey, and I suppose I've agreed to this wipe on my own will."

"I am the Angel, a Time Lady from Gallifrey," Angel's voice added to it, "Yes, I've agreed, though let it be clear this is reluctantly, to have my memory wiped, of my own free will."

"Why would you…" Clara began to speak, when her own voice followed.

"I am Clara Oswald, human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will. Do I really have to touch that worm thing?"

"I'm afraid so," Angel replied over the recording.

"And change your shoes," the Doctor spoke next, "You're next, Psi."

Angel glanced over at the man still sitting down, assuming he was Psi as his voice spoke, "I am Psi, augmented human. I have agreed to this...memory wipe of my own free will," he reached to the side of his head and pulled out a small chip, frowning at it before he put it back.

"I am Saibra," the only other person left, the woman, spoke last, "Mutant human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."

"Ok, so why did we have to say that?" Clara look to the Time Lords as they frowned.

Before they could even attempt to answer, a green light began to blink on the suitcase and it popped open, a screen rising from it. A moment later the monitor flickered on, to a 'K' written there before it faded to a shadowy figure of a man with a hood up.

"This is a recorded message," a distorted voice spoke, "I am the Architect. Your last memory is of receiving a contact from an unknown agency, me. Everything since has been erased from your minds with my greatest apologies," Angel gave the screen an odd look for that, "Now, pay close attention to this briefing," the image flickered to show a planet, "This is the Bank of Karabraxos, the most secure bank in the galaxy," it zoomed in to reveal a building shaped like a fortified pyramid, "A fortress for the super-rich. If you can afford your own star system, this is where you keep it," it morphed to show a vault and its safeguards, "No one sets foot on the planet without protocols. All movement is monitored, all air consumption regulated. DNA is authenticated at every stage," they watched as a clip began of a customer stepping up to a vault, breathing into something by the wall to activate it, "Intruders will be incinerated. Each vault, buried deep in the earth, is accessed by a drop-slot at the planet's surface. It's atomically sealed, an unbreakable lock. The atoms have all been scrambled. Your presence on this planet is unauthorized. A team will have been dispatched to terminate you."

"They're already here," Angel warned them, the only one not to jump when a banging hit a door behind them.

"This is bank security!" someone shouted on the other side, "Open up!"

"Your survival depends on following my instructions," the clip continued.

"Open up and you shall be humanely disposed of."

"There's another exit!" Saibra pointed out, her and Psi jumping to their feet though he focused on the case while she headed for the exit.

"All the information you need is in this case," the clip added. Psi wasted no time in connecting a wire from his head to a slot in the side of the computer, a code running through his eyes as he downloaded the information, "The Bank of Karabraxos is impregnable."

"Please stand away from the door!" the guards warned as the Doctor and Angel grabbed a few items out of the case, "We do not wish to hurt you before incineration."

"The Bank of Karabraxos has never been breached. You will rob the Bank of Karabraxos."

"Come on," the Doctor called as Psi finished downloading, the small group heading for the exit Saibra had found.

"My first bank robbery," Tailor actually cheered, "Isn't it wizard?!"

~8~

A woman with red, styled hair sat behind a desk of a very prim and proper office, a pair of black glasses perched on her nose, in a crisp dark suit.

"Report," she called into a handheld intercom.

"Sorry, hello?" a confused voice called back, "Who is this?"

"This is Ms. Delphox," she frowned, "Head of Bank Security. I sent you to investigate an off-world intruder."

"Did you? I was wondering what we're doing here. We found these amazing worms..."

Delphox ended the communication with a sharp exhale, getting up from her desk and striding to a door. With a bank as secure as this one, she was well versed in methods others might use to confuse the guards, Memory Worms were the only worm that could trick them in such a way. She reached out to a sensor on the wall, leaning forward to breathe into it. It clicked and opened and so she looked within to two uniformed guards.

"Unwelcome guests," she told them, "We're going to need the Teller," she stepped into the room, following a low growling noise and looked through a foggy window at the other end of the room, at a larger creature within, "Are you hungry, boy?" she asked tauntingly, tapping the window before blowing it a kiss.

~8~

"We're safe," Angel gasped as she slowed to a stop from their run, getting a feeling they had gotten far enough away from the guards for now, "We can stop. Whoo," she let out a breath, her hands on her hips as she panted, feeling a little more winded than normal. Relatively speaking, their last few adventures had been calm in terms of running at least. She was feeling her age now.

'Older and more beautiful with each year,' she heard the Doctor's voice in her head as he reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, making her smile even as she leaned back against the wall nearest her.

"Everybody alright?" Tailor looked at the humans, seeing they were winded but fine.

The Doctor stepped closer to the humans, circling Psi and eyeing the cybernetic components on the side of his head, "Augmented human. Computer-augmented, yes? Mainframe in your head?"

"I'm a gamer," Psi shrugged, "Sorry, who put YOU in charge?"

"Do you want the long answer or the short answer?" Tailor asked him.

"Trick question, the short answer isn't short at all," Clara quipped.

"You're lying," Angel remarked, glancing at Psi.

"And she's not saying that because she can see the prison code on your neck," the Doctor added, "She's on the wrong side to see it. Probably should mention my Mate, Angel, that's her, gorgeous girl in the poncho," he pointed over at Angel as she nodded at them, giving a small wave, "She's psychic, so don't try to lie to her, alright? It'll save us all a lot of time and annoyance."

"Nice to meet you," Angel added with a small, apologetic smile.

Psi sighed, "I'm a hacker...slash bank robber."

"Good," the Doctor nodded, "This is a good day to be a bank robber," and then he turned to Saibra, "Mutant human. What kind of mutant?"

"Like he says, why are YOU in charge now?" Saibra tried to brush it off.

"A replicant," Angel answered, sighing as she looked at the humans, "Really, it's just faster to go with it."

"A replicant, really?" the Doctor eyed Saibra.

"What's a replicant?" Clara asked.

Saibra sighed, knowing it was easier to show than to try and explain it first. She moved over to Clara and held out a hand, waiting for Clara to take it. The moment she did, her appearance began to change and suddenly a second Clara was standing there. When she let go, she changed back.

"I touch living cells," the woman murmured, "I can replicate the owner."

"Your face," Clara realized, "When we first saw you..."

"I touched the worm."

"You can replicate their clothes too?"

"I wear a hologram shell."

The Doctor fiddled with a small rectangular box from the case, examining it, "Human cells. DNA from a customer, maybe? A disguise to get us in?"

"Wait," Tailor looked at her parents, "We're doing this? We're really doing this? We're going to rob a bank?"

"Well, it would be better if you rob your first bank with us before you try to do it on your own," the Doctor began, only for Angel to lightly hit him in the gut with the back of her hand, "I mean, this will be a one time thing," he pointed at his daughter warningly.

Tailor rolled her eyes at that.

"I can't believe you're ok with this," Clara remarked to Angel.

"I don't think we have much a choice," Angel countered.

The Doctor looked at Saibra and held up the box for her to take.

~8~

The small group walked casually through the courtyard outside the bank, though one of their numbers appeared to be missing and in their place was a rather distinguished looking older man in a pinstripe suit.

"How long can you maintain the image for?" the Doctor asked the man, Saibra in disguise.

"For as long as I like," she replied, though even her voice had replicated that of the DNA she'd acquired from the box earlier.

They stepped into the bank, the sun shining down through high windows, illuminating an enormous room within. There were patrons of every species and employees rushing about, and they did their best to try and appear as though they had just as much right and reason to be there as anyone else.

"Question one," the Doctor spoke, "Robbing banks is easy if you've got a TARDIS. So why aren't we using it?"

"Question two," Clara countered, "Where IS the TARDIS?"

"Aunt Idris isn't going to be pleased that wasn't your first question, dad," Tailor pointed out.

They looked up when the lights suddenly flickered and lowered, the doors starting to bar as the exits were sealed off.

"Banking floor locking down," a voice called over the speakers.

"They know we're here," Saibra stiffened.

"No," Angel frowned as she looked around, "No, it's not us…"

"Banking floor locking down," the announcement repeated.

The other patrons seemed just as alarmed though, everyone stopping what they were doing. A moment later a door opened and a woman stepped through, Ms. Delphox, two security guards following her over to a man who appeared twice as panicked as anyone else.

"You poor thing," Angel breathed when a creature in a red spacesuit was led in, in between the guards, shackles on its legs, chains surrounding its arms. It looked humanoid in body shape, but its skin was a pinkish-grey, with eyes that were on the ends of two long appendages, like antennae, on either side of its head, curved around to the front. There were even more armed guards behind it.

"What is that?" Saibra grimaced at the sight of it.

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted, "Hate not knowing."

"Whatever it is," Angel shook her head, "It's not here because it wants to be."

"Excuse me, sir," Delphox moved right up to the panicked man, "I regret to say that your guilt has been detected."

"What?" the man scoffed, though he sounded far too nervous, "That...that's totally ridiculous."

"Is it, sir? Well, then, we will certainly double-check. The Teller will now scan your thoughts for any criminal intent. Good luck, sir," she stepped away to allow the creature to move closer to the man, who only appeared to grow even more fearful the nearer it got.

"Interesting," the Doctor murmured.

"What is?" Psi asked.

"The latest thing in sniffer dogs. Telepathic, it hunts guilt."

Angel reached out to grab the Doctor's arm, getting a handful of his jacket cloth, when the man in question let out a groan of pain, clutching at his head as the Teller emitted a high-pitched whine, "Tailor," she swallowed hard, "Look back."

"What?" Tailor frowned at her mother.

"Look away, please," she turned to her daughter, "Do not watch this, sweetheart."

Tailor glanced between her parents but nodded and turned her back to the Teller. It wasn't often that her mother nearly begged something of her, and for something to upset her mother, well, SHE wasn't going to upset her more by arguing.

"What about OUR guilt?" Clara whispered to the Time Lords.

"Currently being drowned out," the Doctor grimaced, reaching out to put a hand on Angel's, seeing what had her so distressed.

The man was screaming, his hands at his temples, his face twisted in concentration.

"What's he doing?" Clara frowned.

"If he has a plan, he's trying NOT to think of it."

"Ever tried not thinking about something?" Psi asked.

"No," Clara answered.

"You may have to," Saibra warned.

"We can't remember a plan," Angel reminded them, "There's no guilt to feel since we don't know what we're actually meant to do," she winced as the Teller lunged forward at the man, growling.

"Ah," Delphox smirked, "Criminal intent detected. How naughty. What was your plan? Counterfeit currency in your briefcase, perhaps?"

"No," the man spoke, his voice shaking, "Not at all, for God's sake."

"It doesn't really matter, we'll establish the details later. The Teller is never wrong when it comes to guilt. Your account will now be deleted, and obviously your mind. Suppertime!"

"Can I look back yet?" Tailor called.

"No," the Doctor spoke, grim, when the Teller's eye antennae began to move towards each other, emitting an energy that shot right at the man, causing him to scream and grip his head, "No, Tailor, keep your back turned."

"What's it doing?" Clara grimaced.

"Wiping his mind, turning his brain into soup."

Angel looked away, closing her eyes and resting her forehead to the Doctor's shoulder, not wanting to watch.

Delphox didn't even seem to care about his screams, merely smirking and watching with an odd glee, "Your next of kin will be informed, and incarcerated, as further inducement to honest financial transactions."

"We've got to help him!" Clara shouted, looking to Angel, but there was nothing they could do.

This was one of the very rare times she couldn't interfere. She hadn't seen this happen, she hadn't sensed it early enough to change it. He had been caught by the Teller, if she or any of them stepped in now, if she used the Vortex, it would reveal them and all of them could end up in the Teller's radar.

"He's gone already," the Doctor moved his arm around Angel, half-hugging her, knowing how much that must have killed her to have to witness, to not have a chance to help save the man, "It's over."

"He's in agony, look at him!"

The Doctor could only look at the blackened liquid streaming from the corner of the man's eyes, "Those aren't tears, Clara. That's soup."

A moment later the Teller backed off, the man's hands dropping from his head to reveal it had caved in at the front.

"Account closed," Delphox merely stated, "Take him away. He's ready for his close-up," she waited till the guards grabbed him to drag him away before looking at the rest of the patrons, "Apologies for the disturbance. Everyone have a lovely day."

"We can't let her do that again," Angel murmured, "We can't."

"We won't," the Doctor swore, "We'll find a way to shut down this bank."

Angel swallowed hard, looking up at him, "And the Teller. We have to free him too. He didn't want to do that, she MADE him," she could feel it, the reluctance, the horror, the desperation and fear radiating off the Teller.

This was as much a punishment for him as it was a torture.

~8~

The small group entered a set of double doors, into a room that would lead to the vault, they hoped. In the wall just beside the doors was a device like the one they'd seen in the clip for DNA testing. Saibra walked over to it as the computer spoke, "Deposit booth locking. Please exhale. Your valuables will be transported up from the vault."

Saibra took a deep breath and leaned forward to breathe into the receptor, all of them watching as the light turned green in acceptance. She smiled as she turned back to normal, though it fell when a drawer opened to reveal another silver case, "If he can break in here and plant this thing, then why does he need our help?"

"I think these cases are meant to help us get to something else," Angel murmured, sensing something more but not fully.

The Doctor reached down to open the case, revealing a device with wires attached to it and a timer, "Ok, well, I'm no expert, but...fuses, timer, I'm going to stick my neck out and say 'bomb,'" he looked at Psi, "Bank schematic...now."

"Please," Angel, Tailor, and Clara added even as the Doctor rolled his eyes.

Psi nodded, taking a device from his pocket to plug it into a chip in his head, triggering the schematics to appear on a monitor in one of the walls.

~8~

Delphox looked up from where a security guard was speaking to her though she was trying to read a file, "So, the man we captured on the banking floor wasn't the target."

"Six visitors just entered a safety-deposit box," the man reported.

"The greatest bank in the galaxy," she sighed, "Our reputation must remain secure. The Director will blame us. We'll be fired...fired with pain."

~8~

The Doctor frowned as he stood before the schematics with Angel, Tailor, and Psi, Clara and Saibra behind them, "See anything, sweetheart?" he asked Tailor, always trying to make their trips something of a learning experience for her.

Tailor squinted, "I just see the lower levels," she told him, "The floor below is all service corridors."

"Exactly," he nodded, "The veins and arteries of the bank," he turned to walk into the center of the room.

"Thank you, Psi," Angel smiled at the man when the Doctor said nothing, realizing he was done using the schematics but hadn't told Psi that.

They all looked over when the Doctor began to stamp on the floor, "He wants us to blow through the floor."

"We'll die if we do that!" Saibra frowned.

"Not really," Tailor remarked, about to explain what her mother could do and how they'd be safe with her there even if a bomb went off.

But the Doctor gave her a subtle shake of the head, "There must be another plan," he spoke in thought, starting to pace. It wasn't that he didn't trust the two humans, but the fact that he couldn't remember why they'd been selected made him a bit more on edge. He wasn't a fan of just blurting out Angel's vortex ability.

"What if the plan is, we're blowing up the floor for someone else?" Clara tried to help, "What if we're not supposed to make it out alive?"

"The Architect would know that wouldn't work," Angel reminded her, "We would never allow it," she gestured to herself, the Doctor, and Tailor, who nodded, "And if we won't blow up the floor, then we can't move forward, so there must be something else…" she moved over to the 'bomb' looking at it with the Doctor beside her.

"The point is to go forward," Tailor murmured, "But why? Why are any of us doing this?" she looked over at Psi and Saibra, "You two must have had a good reason to join us. Mum and dad? All you have to do is ask when it comes to them. But I don't think it was that. All of us agreed to rob the most impregnable bank in history, why? What do they have down there that we'd want so much to take this chance?"

"We should hurry," was the only answer Angel could give. She could sense whatever was down in the vault was important to Psi and Saibra, but there was no personal connection she felt to this mission. The TARDIS was safe, she could sense that much, so what else was it? They were all together so it wasn't her family being held down there. She supposed this was a rare instance where she wouldn't know till they got there, "The guards are on the way."

The Doctor nodded, activating the bomb and moving to set it on the floor. He motioned for everyone to back up and press against the wall, Angel, Tailor, and himself on one side with Clara, Psi, and Saibra on the other. They watched as the beeping grew faster, the tone increasing a moment before there was a small explosion and a burst of light, and suddenly they could see a small hole in the floor but with a shimmering edge around it.

"Is that a dimensional shift bomb?" Tailor looked at her father as he moved closer to peer at the hole.

He pointed at her, "Sends the particles to a different plane. Come on, then, Team Not Dead!"

They glanced over as a pounding sounded on the door, guards shouting, "Open up!" through it.

"Come on," Angel urged the others on, making sure the humans and Tailor had gotten down through the hole and down a ladder first before following with the Doctor. They looked up just as the floor reappeared as the doors to the room opened.

Chapter Text

"Well," Angel murmured as they reached the bottom of the ladder to find themselves in the basement halls of the Bank, water pipes and other conduits lining the walls and paths, "It's not ventilation shafts, but it'll do," she teasingly nudged the Doctor, earning a brief smile from him.

"Well, so, what are we supposed to do now?" Saibra asked once they had all gathered, "What's the plan?"

"I don't know," the Doctor sighed, "The Architect set all this up, it should make sense. My personal plan is that a thing will probably happen quite soon."

Saibra just stared at him, "So that's it. That's your plan?"

"That's his 'thing,'" Tailor corrected, "It's much better than a plan."

"How is that better?"

"Because a 'thing' is like a plan but with more greatness."

"Is a thing going to happen?" Clara asked, though her question was directed more at Angel than anyone else.

"Probably," the Doctor answered, not having noticed as he was looking around.

Angel just smiled at her, "With the Doctor around, it's more an inevitability," she told her, "But with me around…" she moved over to where she was feeling a tug to go, and reached behind a crate, pulling out another silver case, "Hopefully it'd be a good thing."

"Brilliant," the Doctor beamed, hurrying over to Angel as she set the case down, "There we go!"

"Thing time!" Tailor cheered.

"How does he get the cases here?" Clara wondered as the Doctor began to examine the case.

"Well, he'd have to have broken in ahead of us," Tailor shrugged.

"How did he do that? And if he CAN do that, why does he need us?"

"Maybe he could only get to a certain point," Angel suggested absently, "Maybe we're meant to finish it."

"Either way, it's not our problem," the Doctor added.

"What IS our prob-prob-prob-prob..." Psi tried to ask, though his head began to jerk to the side with each stutter.

"You ok?" Clara asked, reaching out a hand to put on Psi's shoulder.

"Drive glitch," he waved it off, "It's fine."

"Guilt is our problem," the Doctor explained, "Guilt, in this bank, is fatal. The Teller can hear it. Ever since that first case was opened, we've been targets."

"So that's why we wiped our memories," Tailor rationalized, "The more we know, the more guilt we carry, the more the Teller can detect."

"Now," the Doctor lifted the case, turning it so the clips faced him, "Once I open this, I can't close it again."

"Would it be safer if only one of us learned it?" Psi asked.

The Doctor glanced at him, "I'm waiting for you to volunteer."

"Er, why me?"

"Because you didn't need that memory worm, did you? You're half-computer, you can perform a manual delete. You CAN clear your thoughts."

Psi sighed, "Ok," he moved the case to face him and opened it…only to frown at what he saw a moment later, "I don't know what it is. You may as well have a look," he turned it so that the rest of them could see what was inside. A row of small, identical devices that looked cylinder-like in appearance.

"Well, what are they?" Clara asked when the Doctor picked up one to examine.

"Not a clue," the Doctor spoke quickly, seeing Angel about to answer. She looked up at him with a small frown, 'Psi was right, it's safer if fewer of us know what it is.'

'It's a teleport,' Angel glanced at it, seeing that in his mind, 'I don't think it can make any of us feel more guilty to know we have that than the fact that we're breaking into a bank.'

'Maybe not,' he agreed, 'But I don't want to risk it. Human minds, even cybernetically enhanced, not as strong as Time Lord minds. We can protect our thoughts better.'

Angel let out a gentle breath, but nodded, seeing his point.

"Hmm, interesting," Saibra spoke, pulling them from their mental conversation.

"What is?" the Doctor glanced at her.

"You're lying."

"Er, why would he be lyi-lyi-lyi-lying?" Psi gasped, bending over, "Ugh! Sorry. Stress. Drains the batteries."

"Need a bit of a boost?" Angel asked, a hand on his shoulder.

"Could do with one yeah," he took a deep breath, "But I don't think we have time for it."

"Why not?" the Doctor asked, "There's no immediate threat."

Tailor winced as an alarm sounded just after he spoke, a computer blaring out, "Warning. Intruders detected!"

"You should really stop saying things like that, dad," Tailor patted him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, getting that," he sighed, the computer repeating itself, "Angel, anything you can do?"

Angel nodded and looked at Psi, "I know you don't know us well, but can you trust me for a moment or two?"

"I don't really have a choice do I," he muttered, but nodded.

Angel took a breath and turned his head to the side so his cybernetic enhancements were visible. She lifted a hand to them, her eyes beginning to glow softly with the power of the Vortex, a spark or two beginning to form on her fingertips as she lifted a hand towards the components. A gentle tap and Psi was gasping and jerking away.

"What the hell was that?!" he panted, looking at her with wide eyes.

"A boost," she smiled.

"One hell of a boost," he muttered, rubbing the side of his head, "I feel like I could go for years without recharging."

"Best not try that though," Angel warned, patting him on the shoulder as she passed, "Now, come on, we need to keep moving."

"Yes, off we go," the Doctor agreed, starting to lead the way with Angel, Saibra and Tailor behind them, with Clara and Psi bringing up the back.

"Can you really delete your memories?" Clara asked Psi.

"Yeah, it's not as fun as it sounds."

"I've got a few I wish I could lose."

"And I've lost a few I wish I hadn't."

The Doctor looked down when he felt Angel take his hand, knowing his thoughts were in danger of drifting to a very dark time in his own past where he had forgotten her. Of all the memories he'd given up or been forced to lose, there was not a single memory of his Mate or daughter he would ever be willing to part with, not for anything. Take anything else from him, but not them.

"No," Psi continued, "I was...I was interrogated in prison. And I guess I panicked. I didn't want to be a risk to the people close to me, so..."

"You deleted your friends?" Tailor asked, glancing back at the man.

"My friends, anyone whoever helped me, my family."

"Your family?" Clara sounded horrified at that.

"Of course, my family."

"How could you do that?"

"Well, I don't know," he sighed, "I suppose I must have loved them."

"Take it from me, Psi," the Doctor called back, "The ones you love, the ones you'll come to love one day, don't ever forget them. They won't thank you for that, I imagine they'll be quite furious and hurt by it, even under good intentions. Just cos you can't remember them doesn't mean other people don't have a way of identifying them. And then what? They could be in danger, and you could walk right past them and not even realize you have. Don't ever delete them again."

"What would you know?" Psi asked, defensive, not having even thought about how he could have endangered the ones he loved till the Doctor pointed it out, that the interrogators may have already known who he was and how to find his family, they could have gone after them already and he'd have no way to check in on them, because he couldn't remember them.

The Doctor paused and looked over at him, "I have forgotten," he told the man, "I didn't choose to, it was forced on me. And the damage it caused, the hurt and pain and suffering? I'm going to live with that the rest of my considerably long life. Just because Angel has forgiven me, doesn't mean I will ever forgive myself."

He turned and continued down the hall, too ashamed to face the others even as he heard Angel in his mind and felt her in his hearts reassuring him.

Angel sighed when all eyes turned to her, "It wasn't his fault," she offered, not sure what to say, "But he did forget me, who I was to him. And things happened, terrible things," she reached out to Tailor who went to her mother and hugged her tightly, standing beside her, knowing those terrible things also involved her kidnapping as a baby, "He remembered, eventually, but not soon enough for the damage not to have been done. Our memories, Psi, the ones we love, they are worth far too much to ever forget."

"Yeah," Psi agreed, "I get it."

Angel nodded and then jerked her head towards where the Doctor had gone to follow after him.

~8~

"So," the Doctor began, a few minutes after everyone had caught up with him, "Is no one going to ask?"

"Ask what?" Clara glanced at him.

"Why I lied?"

"Rule 1," Tailor shrugged, as though that were all the answer she needed, "The Doctor always lies. If anyone wants the truth, they need to ask mum," she glanced at Psi and Saibra, "Rule 2, mum never lies."

Saibra looked over at the Doctor, "Those things, you know what they are."

"Exit strategy, of sorts," he answered.

"Angel?" Clara turned to her.

She nodded, "It's true."

And it technically was. She didn't like this, knowing what the devices were, but she could see into the Doctor's mind for why he wasn't being more forthcoming. He didn't want to specifically tell them that it was a teleporter, because if they had a way to escape, the others might get careless and not watch their guilt.

"Better question," the Doctor continued, "How did you know I was lying, Saibra? You're not psychic or Angel."

The woman shrugged, "I've had a lot of faces, I find them easy to read."

"That's quite a gift," Angel offered.

"Gift?!" Saibra scoffed, sounding as though it was anything but.

"Got us in here," the Doctor agreed.

"Mutant gene. No one can touch me. If they do, I transform," she stopped walking, "Touch me, Doctor, and you'll be looking at yourself. I am alone!"

"Why?" Tailor asked gently, genuinely not understanding.

Saibra looked at her sadly, "Could you trust someone who looked back at you out of your own eyes?"

"Yes."

Saibra scoffed, "Then you're one of the few. Not many can."

"Angel?" the Doctor cut in somewhat, his attention focused on his Mate as she was staring at the corner, her face having gone white, her eyes wide, "What's the matter?" he moved over to her side.

"It doesn't kill them," Angel breathed, reaching out to grip his hand as he touched her arm, "They're not dead."

The Doctor frowned, about to ask what she meant, when he heard it, a muffled groan sounding around the corner. He glanced back at the others, sending Clara a meaningful look that had her moving closer to Tailor as they began to head for the corner. They moved around it and stopped short, seeing a section of the wall had three, small barred windows in them. They could see as they stepped closer, that the windows led to cells.

In the first one was the man that had been cornered in the bank earlier. He was sitting there, chained and shackled, his head still caved in, moaning in pain.

"Oh, my God," Clara gasped as she caught sight of it.

"Why is he still alive?" Tailor shook her head, horrified, no one should be able to survive an attack like that.

"I don't know," the Doctor's jaw clenched, he could only guess that it was some sort of sick punishment to force the body to remain alive.

"I'm gonna be sick," Angel muttered, her hand coming to her mouth as she dashed down the hall and around another corner, the Doctor, Tailor, and Clara rushing after her as they heard her literally being sick.

The Doctor skid to his knees beside her, reaching out to comfort her as she had fallen to all fours as she was sick on the floor. Tailor moved to her mother's other side, holding her hair back while Clara rubbed her back.

"Sorry…" Angel trembled just slightly as she finished, using just a bit of the Vortex to disintegrate the sick. She could have tried to teleport them wherever they were going, but they didn't know where that was, and using more of the Vortex on the systems of the bank could trigger more security, but this little bit to erase the evidence of them being there shouldn't trigger…

Of course, an alarm would go off just then.

"Sorry," Angel repeated as the Doctor helped her to stand again.

"You alright?" Clara asked, more concerned with Angel's well-being than the fact that alarms were sounding and guards were sure to be there soon.

"I'll be fine," Angel reassured them, looking from her to her Mate and daughter, "Really. I just…I wasn't expecting that."

"You didn't see it coming?" Tailor teased, trying to ease the tension that had formed, trying to convince herself that her mother really was fine. She had felt a bit ill to see the aftermath of whatever that creature had done earlier.

Angel gave a weak laugh at that, "Some psychic I am," she joked back.

"Some thief I am," the Doctor murmured, tugging Angel closer to hug her, "Can't even rob a bank properly," he mumbled near her ear.

"Give it time," she reassured him, hugging him back, "Tailor is going to learn from the very best."

He gave her a smile in return for that one, knowing neither of them would really want their daughter to rob a bank after this nightmare, "And she'll have her sensations to warn her," he continued the small joke.

"She alright?" Saibra's voice cut into the moment, drawing their attention over to where Saibra and Psi had followed them.

"I'm fine," Angel reassured again, smiling a bit stronger this time, "It's not easy to be around others in so much pain," was all she offered.

Much like Saibra could look like others, there were times SHE could almost feel what others felt. Being in that hall, with the prisoners still there, it was like there was just too much pain to ignore.

"But we should go," Angel swallowed hard, grimacing a bit at the taste and laughing when the Doctor began to pat down his pockets and pulled out a bottle of mouth wash. She'd stopped questioning why he had things in his pockets by now, "Someone was watching us back there."

"There are cameras everywhere," Clara agreed, starting to tense up at the reminder, it was as though, now that she knew Angel was ok, she was only just starting to really hear the alarms blaring 'Intruders on the service level. Intruders on the service level.'

"Right," the Doctor nodded, starting to lead the way down the hall, though he kept his arm around Angel's shoulder as he could still feel a minor tremor in her from the sick.

"However this goes," Psi spoke up as he and Saibra followed the group, "Whatever happens...don't let me end up like that."

"No one is going to end up like that," Angel promised, "Never again."

"I'd believe her if I were you," the Doctor called over his shoulder, hurrying them down the halls and around a corner, only stopping when they reached another duct, "Now, this says, 'Place to hide,'" he looked at Angel as he crouched down to use the sonic on the cover, "What do you think?"

"I don't quite think hiding there is good, but the guards are too close to make it somewhere safer," she answered.

The Doctor nodded, understanding there was something on the other side that was concerning her, but she felt they weren't in any true danger if they went in, so he continued. He moved into the duct first, crawling into a room on the other side where there appeared to be a class with a mist on the panes. He moved closer, trying to see what was inside…and stilled when he saw the Teller.

"Where are we?" Saibra asked as they all made it back into the room.

The Doctor jerked back when the Teller hissed, sensing him.

"Everyone must remain calm," Angel warned them, "It will be alright, just keep still…"

"It's cocooned," the Doctor agreed, backing away from the Teller's case, "Forced hibernation. Its power is probably dormant," but just as he spoke, there was a noise from outside the room that startled Clara, causing her to nearly try to run, only for the Teller to turn its sights on her.

But Angel pushed her out of the way, getting caught in the Teller's hold instead.

"Angel!" the Doctor shouted, his hearts pounding with the need to protect his Mate, to help her. Tailor had to hurry in front of him and hold him back, both trusting her mother and knowing how her father could be when one of his girls was in danger.

"It may still be asleep," Tailor reminded him, "Don't wake it, dad."

"She's right," Angel told him, keeping as calm as he could even while the Teller was locked on her, "He's asleep, he'll wake for guilt."

"To be fair," Clara moved cautiously closer to the Doctor, following Angel's hand movement as she tried to shoo the rest of them away, "I think she has a hell of a lot less guilt than you, Doctor."

"Just...keep your mind blank," the Doctor called to her, his mind racing, trying to find a way to free her, to get her away from the Teller. All he could think about was putting the beast back to sleep, "Block everything, all of you," he looked around, the more brain activity there was, the more it would stir the Teller, "Once it locks onto your thoughts, it won't let go."

Angel closed her eyes and cleared her mind, allowing herself to think about the stars drifting in space, something calm and peaceful to her. She could hear the Teller growl, though it faded off into a low grumble.

"It's working," the Doctor spoke, "Keep blocking your thoughts, Angel, that's it."

The Doctor cautiously stepped forward, past Tailor and towards Angel. He gestured for Tailor and Clara to get further back, towards another duct on the other end of the room Psi was already working on getting opened. He moved closer and closer, till he could reach out a hand towards Angel and took hers in his. He began to tug her back, slowly but surely guiding her towards the duct. He gestured the others to get in the duct, Psi getting in first to lead the way, Clara ushering Tailor in before following. The Doctor, with one final tug, got Angel ducked low, the two of them hurrying for the duct.

When Saibra, who had been just behind them, screamed, falling to the floor, caught by the Teller, her own guilt too much to be ignored or brushed aside.

"Saibra!" Psi shouted.

"She's still in there," Clara gasped, "How do we get her out?"

"It's already scanning her brain," the Doctor warned, the Teller working faster now that it knew something was wrong.

"Then what?!"

"Soup!"

"We need to help her!" Tailor cried.

Angel quickly tossed Saibra one of the cylindrical devices they had grabbed out of the last case. There was nowhere in the bank she could teleport them that likely wasn't already swarming with guards. And she just had a feeling the teleport devices would be their best chance.

"Saibra," the Doctor called to her.

"What should I do?" the woman winced, "How can I get away? I don't want to become of those things we saw, sitting in a cage!"

"I've tossed one of the devices to you," Angel told her, "It's just by your knee, the exit strategy."

Saibra struggled, but was able to grab the device up, clutching it tightly, "Exit strategy," she repeated, "That means what I think it means, right?"

"Atomic shredder," the Doctor called out the first thing he could think of. If the others thought she was gone, then even if the Teller got to them, they wouldn't be able to reveal one of their accomplices was still alive.

He gripped Angel's hand tightly for the lie.

"Painless?" Saibra gasped.

"And instant."

Saibra bit her lip as the Teller increased the scan, "When you meet the Architect, promise me something. Kill him."

"I hate him, but I can't make that promise."

"Nor would I let him," Angel added.

"A good man..." Saibra tried to laugh, "I left it late to meet one of those," before she steeled herself and activated the device, disappearing, causing the Teller to roar.

"We need to go," Angel turned to try and push the others on, "Fast. He's confused right now, but it won't last if he locks onto another one of us. Go!"

The others hurried on, Psi breaking the duct cover at the other end and getting out, the others scrambling after him.

"Is that…" Tailor began, pointing at a large vault-like door at the end of the corridor.

"Vault," the Doctor confirmed.

"So what do we do now?"

"Are you alright, my love?" Angel asked when the Doctor started pacing, his eyebrows even more angry than normal.

"No," he answered honestly, "I'm an amnesiac robbing a bank, my Mate's mind was nearly turned to soup, and I'm teaching my daughter poor life choices, why would I be ok?"

"Honestly, robbing bank isn't the worst thing you've taught me, dad," Tailor shrugged off that last one.

"And I'm fine, Doctor," Angel reassured him, "No one else will be turned to soup today."

"What about Saibra?" Clara frowned, "She's…"

"Gone," the Doctor cut in, not technically lying, he was trying not to lie to Clara as much as he did the other humans, "We're not. And if we want to stay that way, we need to prioritize."

Psi scoffed, "Is THAT why you call yourself the Doctor, the professional detachment?"

The Doctor looked over at Psi, at the venom in his voice, "Put my Mate, daughter, or sister in danger and see how detached I am," he warned the man, "When we're done here, by all means, you go and find yourself a shoulder to cry on. You'll probably need that. Till then, what you need is me!"

Clara sighed as the Doctor stormed off to the vault to examine it, though she couldn't lie and say she wasn't a bit pleased that she ranked highly enough with him to warrant no detachment. Still, he'd been unduly harsh to Psi, "Underneath it all, he isn't really like that."

"It's very obvious that you've been with him for a while," Psi remarked.

"Why?" she frowned.

"Because you are really good at the excuses."

"And it's very clear you've deleted your empathy," Tailor defended her father, "You aren't even going to try and see this from his perspective."

"What, that he'll fight more to protect you lot before he even worries about other people? Yeah, that's crystal clear."

"He's lost everything he has, except us," Angel told Psi, "He's nearly lost us more times than he'd care to ever admit. He lives in fear that he's not strong enough or clever enough to keep us safe and when the Teller nearly got me, it all came rushing back even worse than before. He wants this over with, and the sooner the better. That won't happen if we don't all work together and work fast."

"Whatever," Psi muttered, heading past them and over to the Doctor when the man picked up another silver case.

"Another gift from the Architect," the Doctor spoke as they joined him, "Shall we unwrap it?"

~8~

Delphox would only watch as two guards pulled a grate off a duct, the same one that the intruders had escaped through.

"The unbreakable bank," she muttered, shaking her head and focusing on the guards, "We must locate them. And Director Karabraxos must not know. When people get fired here...it's messy. Release the Teller into the tunnels."

One of the guards nodded and began to tap a code into the lock of the Teller's cell.

~8~

Psi was crouched down before the open case, plugging in a chip to the side of it and wincing when it began to download into his mind. A moment later he turned and rushed over to a small security room near the vault with a large computer in it. The Time Lords moved to follow as Clara looked at a small card that had been in the case, 'TECH 251, ORG 339, PV' the only things written on it.

"Right, the system looks like it's time-delayed," Psi told them as he began to fiddle with the computer, "There are 24 lock codes I need to break."

Angel glanced over her shoulder, sensing something a moment before a faint growl sounded, "My love, the Teller's been released."

"We're trapped," Clara realized.

"Psi, how long?" the Doctor asked.

"As long as it takes," Psi told them as Angel opened her mouth to answer.

"It's locked on to one of our thought trails," the Doctor looked down the corridor, "We have to split up, minimize the brain signals."

"What happened to your professional detachment, Doctor?" Psi muttered.

"We stay together, it'll find my girls," the Doctor reminded him, "Apart, there's less chance."

He didn't have to add that he was almost certain the Teller would come for HIM, he had plenty in his life to feel guilty of, more so than any of them there combined. He was fine with that, he would rather the Teller come after him than his sister, daughter, or Mate. And he knew he could handle it too, being a Time Lord, he could better protect his mind from intrusion.

Psi nodded, holding out his hand and the Doctor placed one of the cylindrical device in it.

"No," Clara gasped, "No!"

"In case it finds me," Psi pocketed it, "It's my choice."

"You don't use that," Clara demanded, "Ok? Promise me."

Psi just gave her a smile, "Time to run."

"Come on, Aunt Clara," Tailor reached out to touch her arm.

"The farther away we are," Angel reminded her, "The more the Teller will have to get through to get to Psi."

"We need to go, now," the Doctor looked at them, before turning to lead the way into the corridors, leaving Psi to sit in front of the computer and work to unlock the vault. The Doctor led them to a corridor junction, lit with blue light, "Separate!" he called to them and they ran in opposite directions, Tailor and the Doctor heading down one while Angel and Clara moved down the opposite side. Once they reached another junction, they split up even more.

~8~

Psi looked up as the computer began to speak, "Vault box opening. Vault box opening. 24, 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17..."

The lights of the countdown began to turn from red to green, moving clockwise, and Psi quickly stepped out of the security room, rushing down the hall to help.

~8~

Clara ran down a hall, the lights having turned red around her, and stopped near the corner, panting. She gasped, rolling to the side when she heard the Teller's telltale growl getting closer. She closed her eyes and tried to do exactly as the Doctor had instructed Angel, to clear her mind.

She could hear the Teller pause, and tried to keep it clear, keep it blank.

But when she heard the Teller starting to move again, getting closer to her, she took a breath and moved to make a run for it, only to get caught in its lock and cry out in pain.

~8~

Clara's cry echoed down the halls, the Time Lords and Psi all hearing it and rushing to try and help. Psi hesitated, looking around for something to help, before he moved over to a wall, plugging into a panel fixed into it.

~8~

Clara gasped, struggling to try and get away as the Teller scanned her mind…when suddenly she heard Psi over the speakers.

"Come on!" Psi was shouting, "Come and find me. Every thief and villain in one big cocktail. I am so guilty!" Clara shook her head, sinking to her knees as the Teller released her and moved to go after Psi instead, "Every famous burglar in history is hiding in this bank right now in one body! Go and feast!" she pushed herself up and used the wall to make her way after the Teller, "Clara! For what it's worth, and it might not be worth much, when your whole life flashes in front of you, you see people you love...and people missing you...well, I see no one."

Clara reached the corner of the corridor that led to where she could hear Psi just in time to see the Teller had reached Psi, but the man wasn't afraid, merely activating the cylindrical device and disappearing with a scream just as the Teller tried to scan him.

"Aunt Clara," Tailor reached her, pushing the woman back around the corner as the Teller began to turn, "Come on, we need to go, now!"

Clara didn't struggle as she let the girl pull her along, back down the twisting corridors until she ran into her parents, leading them right to them.

"This way," Angel took over, guiding them right back to the Vault hallway, as the lights began to turn green.

"Three, two, one..." the vault counted down, but the last light turned red, "Failed. Vault unlocking. Failed."

Clara bolted past them, running to the vault and pounding her fists on the still-closed door, "It's not opening!" she grunted, turning around to face the Time Lords, "Psi, he died for nothing."

The Doctor moved over to the computer in the security room, scanning it with the sonic, "Multiple locks. Last one still in place," he reached out to the front panel and pried it off, flashing the sonic on the inner workings, "Atomic seal. Unbreakable. Even for me. The Architect would know that. He wouldn't bring us all this way for nothing."

"And get two people killed," Clara muttered.

"Exactly. There must be some logic."

"Some logic?" Clara scoffed.

"Come on, Architect!" the Doctor huffed, "What else have you got?"

They looked up when thunder rumbled above them.

Angel smiled, "An oncoming storm," she looked at the Doctor, "That's what else he's got."

~8~

Delphox sat at her desk of her office, staring down at her intercom, dreading what might come next, but knowing she needed to check in or she would truly be fired in the worst way, "Report," she called into the intercom, "Please. What was the disturbance?"

"Solar storm," one of the guards reported, "Getting worse. Interfering with our systems."

~8~

Above the bank, flares of sunlight moved in waves across the sky, causing thunder to rumble that reached the bank itself.

~8~

The Doctor looked up at the sound of a storm above them, of the thunder and the flickering lights as they stood outside the vault computer room. Now it was making sense, "A storm...the storm's tripping the system," he moved further into the corridor, "That's what he's got, a storm!"

"How would he know WHEN a storm would hit?" Clara asked, "He's not psychic is he?"

The Doctor blinked and looked over at Clara, then to Angel and Tailor, before he started laughing, "Of course! Stupid, stupid Doctor. Of course, of course!"

"Of course, what?" Tailor frowned, "Dad, are you alright?"

"Whoever planned all this, they're in the future," the Doctor stated, "This isn't just a bank heist...it's a time-travel heist. We've been sent back in time to the exact moment of the storm, to be in exactly the right place when it hits, because that's the only time the bank is vulnerable!"

"Which is exactly now," Angel remarked, staring at the vault door a moment before the bolts began to release.

"Vault unlocked," the computer stated and the door began to open.

"The bank is now open!" the Doctor grinned.

"Vault unlocked."

Chapter Text

The Vault was massive, lined with rows and rows of deposit boxes, each with letters and numbers identifying them.

"Well," Angel tried to lighten the mood a bit, "This explains why we didn't just take the TARDIS."

"Sorry, what?" Clara glanced at her.

"It's the storm," Tailor explained, "The solar disruption would completely destroy the navigation systems."

"The one time the bank is vulnerable is the one time we can't just land," the Doctor mused.

"Oh, Sissy is really not going to be pleased we left her somewhere," Angel remarked.

Clara snorted at that, the angry noises the TARDIS made on a good day? She would not want to be Angel or Tailor and have the earful they were sure to get from the box. She looked around, noting something odd about the way the boxes were broken up, the way the tagging system was working. It was the same as on the card!

"Look!" she pulled the card from her pocket quickly, "It's the code. The code that was in the last case. See?" she pointed up to the letters along the nearest row and how it matched the card, "Tech."

"Technology, 251," the Doctor read.

"This way," Angel immediately led them off, right to the box they needed to find, Tech 251. The Doctor opened the drawer for it, finding a small box within. He popped it open and pulled out a cylindrical device.

"What is that?" Tailor frowned at it.

"A neophyte circuit," the Doctor told them, "I've only ever seen one once before. It can reboot any system. Replace any lost data."

"Psi," Angel realized.

"That's what he came for," Clara swallowed hard, "His reward," one he'd never get to use.

"So, what did Saibra come for?" the Doctor wondered as he handed the circuit to Tailor for safekeeping, "Angel?"

Angel nodded, following the next sensation that was tugging at her, to the section labeled ORG, right to a box, 339.

"It's this one," Clara confirmed, checking with the card and opening it herself this time, pulling out a vial of something.

"Gene suppressant," the Doctor realized, for it could only be that.

"She wanted to be normal," Clara remarked sadly.

"Everyone has a weakness."

"So we've found Saibra and Psi's rewards, what's ours?" Tailor looked to her parents.

"It's not here," Angel murmured, looking around, but sensing no tug in that room, though her attention kept drifting down one direction.

"PV," Clara read off the card.

"Private Vault?" Tailor guessed.

"Karabraxos's own fortune?" the Doctor tried to reason, but why would THEY be after someone else's private fortune.

"The Teller's here," Angel reached out to grab his arm as he turned to go, "He's just around the corner," she warned.

"Perfect," the Doctor smiled, "Best way to be taken to the boss, get caught."

"You don't think he's just going to kill you?" Clara hissed at him.

"Nah," he shook his head, "They'd want to know how we did it and why we're here first," he winked at them, though he looked to Angel intently, waiting till she nodded that he was right, that they would be safe, before he turned to 'accidentally' walk right into the Teller.

~8~

The Doctor wasn't pleased to be led to Ms. Delphox as opposed to the head of the bank. But he would take what he could get, every moment spent in the bank was another step towards whatever it was they had agreed to break into it for.

Delphox sat at her desk as the group of four was led into her office, grinning at the fact that they were now caught and apprehended, ready to be dealt with and, as a result, saving her from being fired. That was the big thing, not being fired.

"Intruders are most welcome," she spoke, two guards stepping back against the wall, the Teller between them near the door, "They remind us that the bank is impregnable," she stood slowly, stepping around the desk to eye them more closely, "It's good for morale to have a few of you scattered about the place, preferably on view," she gestured to a wall of the office where monitors kept track of the Teller's other victims, causing Angel to swallow hard and look away, the Doctor moving his hand to the small of her back in comfort, "Are you ready for YOUR close-up? If you're thinking of ways to escape, the Teller will know before you've even made a move. You'll never be bothered by all that thinking again."

"Useful species," the Doctor murmured, glancing over his shoulder at the Teller, reciting the digits of pi in his mind to help keep him thinking of the ways they could truly escape. Like Angel, now that they were caught, the use of her Vortex ability to teleport them out of there would be an advantage.

"Last of its kind, and we've signed an exclusive deal."

"You're quite cruel to do such a thing," Angel looked at the woman, "You can't even tell how much pain he feels every day, doing what you make him do."

"Not my problem."

"What do you do if he refuses?" Tailor frowned, reaching out to touch her mother's arm, seeing the pain written across her face, radiating from the Teller.

"Oh we rarely have any instances of those. He knows his place. And besides," she shrugged, "Everything has a price tag, I think you'll find," she glanced up when thunder crashed above them, "The storm's getting worse. Customers are leaving. Director Karabraxos will soon be...concerned. Our jobs will be on the line."

"Why are you so frightened of her?" Angel tilted her head at the woman.

"I have the disadvantage of knowing Karabraxos personally."

"If you don't like your boss, why stay?" Clara had to ask.

"My face fits," she said simply, "Now...if you'll excuse me, I must take the Teller to its hibernation," she looked over to the guards as she approached them, "You two, dispose of our guests."

They watched as she stepped out of the room, leading the Teller away and down the hall, the Doctor catching sight of a breath lock on the door as she went. But his attention was pulled back when the guards approached them.

"Don't do this," the Doctor spoke to them, "I'm having a very bad day, and I do not want to be pushed around."

"You're wrong," one of the guards spoke.

"Wrong?"

"It's not that bad a day. And you're being very slow."

"What?"

Angel just smiled, "Hello Saibra."

The Doctor almost gaped when the guard's face morphed back into Saibra, the second guard pulling his helmet off to reveal Psi, who hurried to undo their handcuffs, only to jump back when a small flash of gold unlocked all of them. With the solar storm going off, a bit more of the Vortex was usable.

"It LOOKED like death," Psi spoke, "It was actually a teleporter."

"Oh, my God!" Clara cheered, rushing to hug the two humans.

"Good, eh?" he laughed.

"We had to think you were dead," the Doctor agreed, "If we did, then the Teller thinks you're dead, and we play the creature at his own mind games."

"Hold on," Saibra frowned, "You KNEW we were alive?"

"It's very difficult to fool a psychic," the Doctor shrugged with a nod to Angel.

"We knew it was a teleporter," Angel explained as she moved beside the Doctor, showing that it was just the two of them who knew, "But we didn't know where to or if you'd be able to return."

"And you let us think they were dead?!" Clara gaped at them, she expected that of the Doctor, not Angel.

Angel gave her a regretful smile, "Like he said, the more we thought they were dead, the safer all of you were."

"Time Lords can better guard their minds than humans," Tailor sighed, "I'm not quite at that level yet, there's not really many people to practice against."

Clara let out a long breath, not happy with it, but understanding now why Angel had pushed her out of the Teller's path and not seemed to struggle as much with it. She looked over at Psi, "How did you guys make it back here?"

"There's an escape ship in orbit," Psi explained, "Takes you right there, found the schematics for these," he handed the teleporter back to the Doctor, "Two way transport."

"There was also this big blue box," Saibra added, glancing at the group of four, "Is that yours?"

"That's our ship, yeah," Tailor beamed as Angel let out a relieved breath and Clara punched the air in joy.

"And the little metal dog?" Psi asked, thinking about the thing that gave them the schematics.

"Mk9!" Tailor cheered, "So that's where he got to!"

"Well, this is good," the Doctor grinned, glancing at Saibra and Psi, "I suppose you'll be able to resume the mission, then," he looked over at Tailor and Clara who handed them their rewards, "Gene suppressant, antidote for your condition, Saibra, and a memory giver, all your yesterdays. There you go. Job done, paid in full."

Angel smiled at them, "Clever old Architect."

"Very clever," Saibra agreed.

"I still hate him," the Doctor murmured.

"Me too."

"How were you paid?" Psi looked at them.

"We haven't been yet," Clara remarked.

"Whatever we've come for is in the private vault," Tailor added.

Angel looked between the two other humans, "Think you're up for one more round?"

Saibra and Psi glanced at each other and grinned.

~8~

The small group of 'robbers' gathered close at the bottom of another ladder, following Psi's lead as he still had the schematics for the bank in his memory banks.

"What's that?" the Doctor asked as the man patted a pipe running nearby the ladder.

"Supply line," Psi explained, "It's the only oxygen down to the private vault. There's another one for water for basic life support."

"What, for a private vault?" Clara frowned.

"Mum?" Tailor looked to Angel, "This isn't going to be like that Max Capricorn bloke from the stories, right?"

Angel glanced at the pipes, "I don't think it will, no."

"Someone likes to hang out with their wealth," the Doctor remarked as they followed the line to a set of doors.

Angel reached out when the Doctor moved to try and get a duct cover off the wall, "I've had enough of small spaces and creeping around," she told him, moving over to the main doors. She gripped the handles, a brief flash of light breaking the rather simple locks placed on the doors. She threw them open, allowing them to walk right into a room filled with artifacts and other treasures, though it looked more like a museum than a vault. There was even classical music playing. It was a rather impressive collection though.

The Doctor's gaze was drawn to a large wing-back chair by a desk, the back to them, "Director Karabraxos?" he called, "Excuse us, but we've come to rob you. So, if you want to put your hands above your head, or..."

It was a surprise to everyone but two when the chair spun around to reveal Delphox sitting there, her hands up in a mocking display, "Or?" she taunted, "You didn't bring any weapons. That's a bit of an oversight," she leaned over to speak into the intercom on her desk, "Security, Karabraxos here."

"You're Karabraxos?" Clara eyed the woman.

"One moment."

"Director Karabraxos," another woman who looked like Delphox answered, appearing on a monitor, "Is there a problem?"

"Intruders in the private vault. Send me the Teller. I want to find out how they got in, and then I want to wipe their memories."

"She's a clone," Tailor realized, "Must be an advanced one, she didn't stink like they normally do."

"It's the only way to control my own security," Karabraxos sighed, "I have a clone in every facility," she glanced at the monitor once more, "Get on it right away."

"Yes, of course," Delphox nodded.

"And then hand in your credentials. You're fired, with immediate effect."

"But, please, I've been in your service..."

"Ever since the last one let me down and I was forced to kill it. I can't quite believe that you're putting me through this again," she huffed as she ended the call, looking back at the ones robbing her bank, "My clone. And yet she doesn't even protest. Pale imitation, really. I should sue!"

"You're killing her?" Clara shook her head, "You just said..."

"Fired? I put all of the used clones into the incinerator. Can't have too many of moi scattered around."

"Sorry, you don't get on with your own clone?" Psi just stared, befuddled by that.

"Dad didn't really get on with his past selves when he met them," Tailor shrugged, "It's fairly common."

"We're always changing," Angel remarked, "Always different than the people we were yesterday."

"This is more than change," the Doctor disagreed lightly, "She hates her own clones, she burns her own clones. Frankly, you're a career break for the right therapist…" he suddenly stiffened as a thought hit him, "Shut up. Everybody, just...just shut up!"

"No one's talking, dad," Tailor whispered to him.

"And what is this display now, as amusing as you are?" Karabraxos asked dryly.

"Shut up!" he snapped, "Just shut up, shut up, shut up, shutetty up up up!"

"My love," Angel moved over to him, taking his hands when she saw him getting so worked up, "Calm down," she squeezed his hands, a gentle tug drawing him to rest his forehead to hers, "Breathe."

The Doctor did as his Mate asked, allowing her presence to calm him, to let things settle in his mind. He thought best when he was under pressure, his mind would race and come up with answers, but it always made him feel more stressful. He could feel himself getting angry with the situation, the danger they were all in due to the solar storm, and he had never been good about working while angry. As Vastra loved to remind him, anger was the shortest distance to a mistake and he tried not to make them when it involved his Mate or daughter or sister.

"She said, how can you trust someone if they look back at you out of your own eyes," Angel murmured, seeing the question forming in his mind, something Saibra had said that he needed to remember.

The Doctor nodded, pulling away from Angel, but still gazing at her, "I know one thing about the Architect. What is it that I know? I know one thing, something I've known from the very start."

"You hate him," she answered.

He nodded again, "He's overbearing, he's manipulative, he likes to think that he's very clever. I HATE him. I hate the Architect."

"What in the name of sanity is he going on about?" Karabraxos huffed.

He snorted, "We're getting sanity judgment from the self-burner," he muttered, pulling away from Angel fully now and heading over to Karabraxos' desk, "Do you mind if I borrow a little bit of paper?" he tugged a piece to him without letting her answer, writing something down on it.

"And what are you doing now?"

"I'm giving you our telephone number," he slid the paper back to her, winking at Tailor as her eyes widened, working out the situation.

"Why?"

"Well, I thought you might like to call us someday," he tapped the paper that had a note 'we are time travelers' written below the digits, "Sorry, I thought we were getting along famously. Am I, like, misreading the signals or something?" he looked up as thunder rumbled louder, shaking the building, "Oh, that was a big one, wasn't it? I think that your bank is about to close for good, Karabraxos. If I was you, I'd get going. Don't mind us, we'll just stay here and burn."

Clara shook her head at that as an alarm began to blare.

~8~

As an intense wave of solar energy passed over the bank, the clients within the main lobby began to panic, all of them rushing across the floor in a bid to escape the bank.

~8~

Angel watched Karabraxos rushing to pack her valuables into a case, the woman looking around at the precious belongings she couldn't take with her. That was the curse, she supposed, of material possessions, there could be so many of them and they could all be meaningless, valuable but meaningless. She knew exactly what she would grab in a situation like this, her Mate, her daughter, Clara, the TARDIS, any humans she could try to save she would.

Karabraxos was content to truly let them stay there and burn for the sake of saving artifacts.

"Hard to know what to take," the Doctor remarked, "The greatest treasures of the universe in just one suitcase."

"Doctor," Clara stepped closer to the Time Lords when thunder crashed, even louder, "What's the plan? IS there a plan?"

"It's alright, Aunt Clara," Tailor reassured her quietly, "We still have the teleporters, we can escape easily enough."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"Our reward," Angel reminded her, "We still don't know why WE agreed to do this."

"I can wager a guess now," the Doctor remarked, "There were eight teleports in that case."

Clara's eyes widened at the implication, there were only six of them, but two more teleporters. What, were they supposed to rescue Karabraxos and Delphox too?

"Hey," the Doctor called out as Karabraxos made for a lift in the wall, "Give us a call me some time."

"Doors opening," a computerized voice called.

"You'll be dead," Karabraxos stated without a care in the world.

Tailor snorted at that, "If we had a pound for each time someone thought that of you, dad…"

Angel looked over at Karabraxos, "It'll take time, but one day you're going to regret the things you can't change. And when that day comes, just know we WILL help."

Karabraxos rolled her eyes as the lift doors shut, "Doors closing."

"Alright," Psi shook his head, "What the hell is going on?"

"Did you two remember something?" Saibra looked to the two Time Lords.

"Not quite," Angel told her, "But things are starting to fall into place."

"Like what?" Clara asked.

"Not enough to piece it together in time," the Doctor sighed, rubbing his head, "I need my memory back. And I think there is only one way to do that..."

Tailor stiffened, "Dad, you're not thinking of…"

"Soup," he nodded grimly.

"Soup?" Clara frowned.

A moment later another set of doors opened and the Teller stepped out, growling.

"Hello, big man," the Doctor turned to face him, "Peckish?"

"No!" Angel quickly moved in front of the Doctor as the Teller began to put his two eyestalks together as though to scan the Doctor's brain. He let out a small roar at her sudden interruption, his eyes relaxing, "It's alright," she told the Teller, "It hurts you, I know. We're not going to make you do this anymore, never again, I promise," she crossed her hearts.

"Angel," the Doctor tugged her towards him, "I know there's a risk, but I need to let it read me. It's the only way."

"It could kill you dad," Tailor shook her head at him.

"If I had a pound for…" the Doctor tried to mimic her earlier words.

"I want to try something first," Angel cut in gently, taking his hands so he would face her, "I've been thinking about it for a long time, as far back as Christmas."

"What?" he frowned.

"I want to try to restore your memories," she continued, "My mind is connected to yours, and my powers are stronger now, after all those centuries…maybe I can, I don't know, reverse the part of your mind where the memories are stored so you can remember what you've forgotten."

"Angel…"

"I've done it, on Christmas, with the humans," she admitted to him, "The older ones, when their minds began to fail them, I…I healed them, near the end, I finally managed to heal them. Your mind isn't damaged, the memories just need to be reversed, brought out. Please," she whispered, "Let me at least try. This time I need to know."

The Doctor took a deep breath, hearing his words from his attempt to find out if there was a monster under the bed reflected back in her own. He had needed her to support him, go with him, let him work it out, he had needed to KNOW. And this time, it was her turn.

And he knew there was so much more to it than just the memory worm. He wore the angel necklace Angel had given him as a gift, always. He had video footage on the TARDIS reminding him of who Angel and Tailor were to him. Had diary entries dedicated to why he should never trust River Song. And all of it was geared to the fear that he might forget Angel again one day. No amount of pre-planning would ever be enough to reassure Angel, but this might. If SHE could restore his forgotten memories, then there might be a better chance to restore his memories in the future. He didn't know what it would mean against other forms of amnesia, natural, trauma, the Silence, but if they could prove this with the Memory Worm, it was a step.

"Alright," he told her, lifting the hands he was holding to his temples, "We'll try."

Angel smiled at him in thankfulness, before closing her eyes along with him, and concentrating.

The Doctor gasped, his eyes flying open as memories rushed into his mind…

~oOo~

"It's just a phone, Clara," the Doctor said as he moved to the phone of the TARDIS panel as it was parked in Clara's flat, "Nothing happens when you answer the phone."

"Doctor?" an elderly woman asked when he answered the phone.

"Hello?" he frowned.

"You gave me this number. My name is Madame Karabraxos. I was once...the wealthiest person in the Universe. I need your assistance. I'm dying. With many, many regrets...but one, perhaps, you may be able to help me with."

The Doctor hung up the phone after gathering some more instructions and information, and looked over at his family, "It's a little detour. It's a job, I've got to do it for someone. Come on," he hurried into the TARDIS, the others following him without question as he began to set the box going.

"What are we doing?" Tailor asked, always eager to help someone.

"We need to rob a bank."

"What?" Clara blinked.

The Doctor paused, not answering her question as he turned to Angel, regret painted on his face as one of the few warnings and instructions Karabraxos had given him sunk in, "Angel, I'm so sorry…but we're going to need the worms."

~oOo~

The Doctor glanced over at Tailor and Angel as they sorted through a list of people on the monitors, trying to find the ones that could best help them rob the bank.

"I think we've got it," Angel called him over, showing him the profiles of Psi, Saibra, and another bank patron.

~oOo~

Clara smiled as she shook hands with the bank patron at a fancy party, turning to drop the skin cells into a small box the Doctor had bought with them.

~oOo~

The group gathered around a table, all of them but Psi touching the worms crawling along it while Psi deleted his memory. The Doctor looked over at Angel, taking her hand before they both reached for the worms.

~oOo~

The Doctor stood in the console room, Angel beside him as she helped him work on a voice modification for a video, "Architect," he tested, over and over till there was no way to tell it was his voice.

"Ready?" Angel asked him.

He nodded and began to record his message.

~oOo~

The Doctor followed Angel down the halls of the bank, letting her place the suitcases, trusting her sensations, before they hurried back to the TARDIS before being caught.

~oOo~

"You will rob the Bank of Karabraxos," the Doctor finished, pulling his hood off after he finished the recording. He looked over at Angel this time, "Ready?"

She nodded.

~oOo~

The Doctor gasped as he pulled away from Angel, blinking rapidly, his hands curling around her wrists as he slowly lowered them from his face.

Angel looked at him a moment, seeing the memories flash across his mind, before she grinned widely. The Doctor let out a joyful laugh, pulling her into his arms in a tight hug and spinning her around.

"Oh, brilliant!" he positively beamed, kissing her quickly before he hugged her again, laughing even more.

It might seem an overreaction to anyone else, but anyone who knew what they'd gone through, what they'd suffered due to lost memories, it was a fitting way to celebrate.

Tailor grinned, watching her parents, "As great as that is, and believe me, mum, dad, I am thrilled beyond belief. But…there's a solar storm about to destroy us, remember?"

"Right, right, yes," the Doctor cleared his throat as he pulled away, "Yes, best save the celebrating for later," he looked do Angel, "Did you see why we came?"

She nodded, and her gaze turned to the Teller, "You saw too, didn't you? Without needing to pull it from us, you know we're here to help?"

The Teller let out a soft groan, not a pained noise, but one that sounded just as relieved as the Doctor had before.

The Doctor turned to face the Teller as well, "We had to delete our own memories, otherwise you'd have known, and then she'd have known. Because you're mentally linked. But she's gone now. They've ALL gone. They have no power over you now. You can do exactly what you want to do now. Exactly what you've always wanted to do."

They watched as the Teller moved over to another safe hidden in the wall of the room, using his telekinesis to unlock it.

"It knows the combination!" Psi gaped.

"He was forced into a mental link with Karabraxos," Angel informed them, "If she knew it, he knows it."

"What exactly are we doing here?" Clara asked them, "That thing killed people."

"And that's why," Tailor breathed when the safe door opened to reveal another Teller chained within, letting out a wail when it saw the first Teller before it, "He was protecting his own mate."

"You can never tell what you'd be willing to do, the lengths you're willing to go, to protect everything you love," the Doctor mused.

Angel slowly approached the Teller, reaching out to put a hand on his arm, "Let's get her out of there, shall we?" she asked it, quickly moving into the cell to help unchain the second Teller with the Vortex.

"Not the last of its species," Tailor murmured, "The last TWO," she looked to her parents for that.

"The exit strategy," Saibra realized, "We've got eight teleports."

"Exactly," the Doctor grinned, "This wasn't a bank heist, it never was. It was rescue mission, for a whole species. Flesh and blood, the last currency," he glanced up as thunder rumbled, and back to the two Tellers as Angel helped lead the second out of the cell, "Time to go home. What do you think of that, big man?"

The first Teller just roared with joy.

~8~

Angel smiled as she stood with the Doctor, Tailor, and Clara just outside the TARDIS, watching as the two Tellers made their way across a field, now on a planet all their own. A small world, but one full of nature, food, and many places for the two to live in comfort and peace.

"So much mental traffic in the universe," the Doctor mused, "Solitude is the only peace."

"You picked the perfect planet, mum," Tailor smiled at her mother.

"It was all the TARDIS," Angel deferred.

"Either way, this is just the place for them to be happy," Clara agreed.

~8~

As the TARDIS drifted through the stars, the Time Lords and humans gathered within, eating some Chinese takeaway, the Doctor and Angel leaning against the console, side by side, as he told them a story of one of their adventures, "Gioffre Borgia," he recalled, "Mucho scary hombre, says to us, 'What do you think of our Leaning Tower of Pisa?' I say…" he leaned exaggeratedly to the side, "'It looks ok to me!'"

That earned a laugh from the others and even a tail wag from MK9, who had been left with the TARDIS during the heist as they had had to go in as low-tech as possible.

~8~

Sadly, the time had come to part ways with Saibra and Psi, the man beaming as he hugged Angel, Tailor, and Clara, and shook hands with the Doctor. Ready and excited to go see his family once again now that he could remember them.

"If you ever need help with another bank heist..." he began jokingly.

"Yeah, it's not really his area," Clara teased back.

Psi clicked his tongue and pointed at Saibra as he passed, heading for the door, a gesture she returned. They waited till he was out the door before Angel and the Doctor piloted the box away to Saibra's drop off point.

"We're here?" Saibra looked at them when the box landed with a thump, rushing to hug each and every one of them, despite the Doctor's protests, in her excitement that she could now touch them without turning into them, "See? I don't have your face now!"

"Yeah," he held up his arms as he stepped back, "I kind of miss that."

"Oh, shut up!" Saibra laughed, waving at them as she hurried to the doors, ready to start a new life.

~8~

"Alright, Clara," Angel called, having taken over the last stop to make sure Clara wouldn't 'accidentally' miss her date, "7:12, two minutes after we left, as promised."

"Yes, yes," the Doctor huffed as he rested against the console, waving her towards the door, "Go and enjoy yourself. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Maybe make that things mum wouldn't do," Tailor teased, making her father roll his eyes, "You just robbed a bank!"

"Alright, alright, point taken."

"It's a date!" Clara laughed, before blinking when something struck her, "I've just realized. I'm going out for another meal now!"

"I can go back and drop you off a few hours ago…" Angel offered.

"No, no, it's fine," Clara sighed, she would just get a salad or something.

"Don't worry," the Doctor shrugged, "Calories consumed on the TARDIS have no lasting effect."

"What? Are you kidding?!"

"Yes," Tailor cut in, "It's a time machine, Aunt Clara."

"Not a miracle-worker," the Doctor agreed, "Not even Angel could do that. So bye!"

Clara nodded and headed for the door, "See you. Don't rob any banks."

"'Don't rob any banks' what?"

Clara paused in the doorway and looked back at them, smiling, "Without me."

"We promise," Tailor smiled back at her, she and her parents crossing their hearts as well.

"Robbing a bank!" the Doctor shook his head once Clara was out of the TARDIS, "Robbing a whole bank! Beat that for a date!"

"I know, dad," Tailor patted his arm as she made her way to the console, "No one can top you," she leaned in to kiss his cheek as she passed.

The Doctor gave a smug smile at that, looking over his shoulder slightly when Angel came to hug him from behind, "No one could ever top the Doctor."

"Thanks," he leaned in to kiss her cheek as well, "Now, how about another trip? Random?"

Angel smiled and nodded, moving up to a midlevel of the TARDIS, sitting down in one of the armchairs off to the side and watching the Doctor get to work. She couldn't help but think about the last trip they'd had, everything that had happened in the bank. Overall, it was one of the better trips, in terms of most lived to see the end of it. She shifted in her chair, her stomach churning as she recalled that poor man the Teller had been forced to search for guilt in. It was a terrible thing that had happened and she wished so badly she could have helped.

'He would have turned on you,' the Doctor's voice called in her mind, seeing where her thoughts had gone.

'And then all of us,' she nodded, she understood it was one of the rare times she hadn't been able to help, but it wasn't a comfort at all.

"Mum?" Tailor spoke from beside her, and she looked over to see the girl there with a small cup in one hand and a plate in the other.

"What's this?" Angel smiled at her.

"Tea," she offered her mother the cup, "And some toast. You were sick earlier and I thought it might help."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Angel reached out to take the toast on the plate, setting it on her lap and patting the armrest so Tailor could join her, "I'm sorry about earlier. I wasn't excepting to react quite that much to the Teller's victims."

"It's fine mum," Tailor waved it off, "You're partly an empathic psychic, there are going to be things harder for you to stomach than others. They just saw it, you felt it."

"Still, being sick at all is not fun."

Tailor gave her mother a small smile for that, "Do…do you think that's going to happen to me, one day?"

"Getting sick?" Angel asked, "Well your father is a doctor…"

Tailor laughed, "No, mum, I mean…do you think I'll become an empathic psychic too? I get sensations, no visions yet, but feelings. And that's how it started for you."

Angel looked up at her daughter, "Your father is the Doctor," she reminded her, "I think you have the potential to be anything. I think, one day, you may even be more powerful than me."

"Now that's even more impossible than me dating," Tailor teased.

"Well that'll be a first," the Doctor called as he moved to join them, sitting on the stairs near the chair.

"What?"

"A psychic being wrong," he smiled at his daughter, "Kitta, you are the most incredible thing that has ever happened to us," he reached out, taking Angel's hand and squeezing it as she nodded, "That will never change, whether you become more powerful than your mother or only have sensations about things and nothing more."

"We will love you, no matter what you become," Angel agreed.

"But, if you ask me," the Doctor added, "With Angel as your mother," he winked at her, "You're going to be something truly special."

Tailor looked between her parents, smiling at their words, and glanced up when the TARDIS hummed in agreement, "Thanks," she leaned over to hug her mother before sitting beside her father and hugging him too.

Angel smiled as she watched them, munching on her toast a moment, taking time to just…BE with her family.

She tilted her head, a thought drifting through her that they were really overdue to spend some time with the rest of their family. They would have to drop in and say hello sometime soon.

Chapter Text

Tailor was quite sure her father did this on purpose, she really was. No one could really have such bad luck as to end up chained to a pair of ornately carved pillars and left to die in the middle of a desert-like environment, with twin suns beating down on them and surrounded by sand piranhas.

And yet, here they were.

Though she did firmly maintain that he did it on purpose, somewhat. It WAS his fault, though he didn't seem to quite realize it yet. He had been rather insulting to the primitive species that lived on the planet within the cool caves of the sharp, rocky outcrops that shot out of the sands. The problem with this version of him, she'd come to realize, was that, unlike his last few selves where he was at least slightly aware of when he was being insulting, this one didn't seem to have that skill. He genuinely thought he was just commenting on something or pointing out a fact…when he was just being SO rude while doing it.

There was only so much her mother could do to smooth things out and not even her mother had enough good luck to counter her father ALL the time.

She let out a breath, a forceful one, trying to brush a bit of hair that had fallen in front of her face away without the use of her hands, as she too was chained to a pillar. Her and the Doctor on one, Angel and Clara on the other.

"There's no way out of this," Clara lamented, "We're going to die here."

"Seriously should start a pot or something for every time a companion thought we were going to die," Tailor mumbled, with just a hint of 'teenage tude,' but she was tired and hot and there was sand everywhere. Literally everywhere. She'd need three showers after this and she was sure she'd STILL find it.

"We'll be fine, Clara," Angel reassured her, though she was a bit distracted, her gaze on the distant figures of the natives as they made their way across the dunes and towards the outcroppings.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, "We'll be fine if you just pass me the vibro-cutters."

"They're in my pocket," Clara told him.

"Come on then, pass them to me."

"In my other jacket. At home."

"Why have you got two jackets? Is one of them faulty?"

"Says the man who had no less than 11 tweed jackets," Angel laughed.

"And how would she even get them to you, dad?" Tailor added, "If they were in her pocket, she wouldn't be able to reach them," she jiggled the cuffs around their wrists for emphasis.

"We're going to starve to death out here," Clara huffed.

"We're not going to stave," Angel replied, squinting against the sun, wanting to be sure the natives were well and truly gone now.

"The sand piranhas will get us long before that," the Doctor agreed.

"Not helping!" Clara shot him a glare…only to blink when, a moment later, a spark of gold flashed on their cuffs, releasing them. She frowned, rubbing her wrist as she turned to Angel, "Hold on, the cuffs WEREN'T Vortex proof?"

"Course they weren't," the Doctor rolled his eyes, absently putting an arm around Angel's shoulders as she began inspecting their wrists for any chafing to heal, "Who said they were Vortex proof?"

"YOU did," Clara glared at him.

"Rule one, Aunt Clara," Tailor reminded her, letting out a breath of relief as her mother healed the discomfort in her wrists.

"We couldn't have the natives realize we could escape or they never would have left," the Doctor shrugged in response to the unasked 'why?' just waiting on Clara's tongue.

"Hate you," Clara muttered under her breath as a faint wheezing began to sound, signaling the TARDIS had homed in on her pilots.

"Aunt Idris isn't gonna be happy either," Tailor mused, when they'd been pulled away from the TARDIS the natives had been crying out to burn the old box as an offering to their gods, proof of their devotion against 'the false ones' as they'd said. Poor MK9 was going to be rather peeved at HER, she'd had to leave the poor metal dog inside as this species was very, very primitive, and they hadn't wanted to frighten them with too much high-tech like a talking dog.

Still, she wouldn't be surprised if the box gave the Doctor quite a rough flight after this.

~8~

Clara's smile was very tense as she rushed into the pub she was meeting Danny Pink at. The TARDIS HAD been quite cross with the Doctor and had seemed to refuse to go anywhere the man wanted till he apologized, which just made her feel like she was going to be SO late to meet with Danny even though Angel had reassured her they'd landed right on time.

"Hiya!" she called, leaning in to kiss him quickly, "Sorry I'm late."

"You're not," he reassured her, doing his level best not to gape at her, but unable to stop himself from commenting, "You're brown. You're very brown. You weren't that brown this morning."

Clara's smile just grew even more tense at the reminder, who knew twin suns would make you tan twice as fast as normal? She hadn't anticipated that and now she really could understand if the Doctor confused her with Strax she really was far too tan, "Spray tan," she offered, the first thing she could think of, "Had a coupon. It went very wrong apparently..."

"No!" Danny said quickly, "You...you look good. You always look beautiful, Clara. I was just...surprised."

Thankfully Danny was a decent bloke and let it drop after that.

~8~

Clara very much wanted to be annoyed and irritated with the Time Lords when they popped up in her flat as she was about to head out to meet with Danny a week later, but seeing how utterly excited Tailor was and how eager she was to share this trip with her 'Aunt' well, she couldn't say no to that face.

"Fish people!" Tailor cheered, her head sticking out of the TARDIS doors, the Doctor right beside her, grinning as well.

Clara could just make out Angel past them at the console, "What are they like?"

"Fish," a small, squeaking robotic voice answered just as the Doctor opened his mouth to reply, MK9 rolling towards the door to assist his mistress, earning an eyeroll from the Doctor, "And people."

"Come and see!" Tailor nearly squealed as she reached out to take Clara's hand and tug her into the box.

~8~

Apparently fish and people could be quite vicious. Which probably had something to do with how the Doctor had been commenting that his favorite food in his last incarnation (as he hadn't tried enough to have a favorite food in this one yet) had been fish fingers and custard. The fun, good times they'd been having with the fish people, who were quite fascinated with Angel and Tailor's hair, had quickly spiraled into them running for their lives to get back to the TARDIS. Angel hadn't felt right using the Vortex against them, as even the smallest bit of heat could significantly burn them and it was all a massive misunderstanding because, no, the Doctor was NOT about to try and eat them all.

The Fish People had expelled the TARDIS from one of the air pockets it was being kept in, sending it floating towards the ocean floor and forcing them to dive for it and get in before their air ran out. Though MK9 had been most helpful as a small propeller had popped out from under him, helping speed him and Tailor, who had grabbed onto him, to the box.

The Doctor and Angel had been slipping around the console while Tailor checked over MK9 to make sure the water hadn't damaged his circuits, trying to get them away so much that it had been a worse trip than the desert and, despite Angel's best efforts, she'd landed two minutes late to Danny waiting outside her flat in a taxi and he was about to head up and check on her. She'd quickly waved off Angel's offer to use the Vortex to dry her off (which she was now regretting because no matter how warm it might be outside at any time, running out soaking wet was going to make anything feel chilly) and dashed down her stairs, nearly hurling herself into the taxi beside Danny.

"How's you?" she asked, trying to blink past the salt water trying to drip into her eyes.

"Evening," Danny greeted, "Nice frock. It's a bit wet."

"Freak shower."

"Is that seaweed?" he reached out to pull a strand of it from her hair.

"I said freak!" she tried to defend, really, really regretting not letting Angel dry her off.

~8~

Clara was quite sure she would have been far more terrified of this trip, of the lasers being shot at them by soldiers giving chase, if it hadn't been for the reassuring golden glow she could just make out shining from behind them as a shield to protect them and for the small metal dog readily firing lasers right back at their attackers as they went.

"How much further?" Clara gasped.

"TARDIS has got to be round this corner," the Doctor answered, only for them to dash around the corner to see nothing but another corridor.

"Three more and a set of stairs," Angel told him, "I can teleport us to Sissy and…"

"Oh come on, mum," Tailor called, positively beaming, "Love the running!"

The Doctor chuckled, smiling, reminded of Jenny, when he turned around a corner and automatically ducked down as a row of soldiers came from another hall and fired at him, though Angel had gotten a shield up with plenty of time, "Tell you what I don't love," he grumbled, "Soldiers. Don't you hate soldiers?"

"Yeah," Clara huffed.

"Some aren't so bad," Angel defended, "They're just protecting their princess!"

"Yeah, because SOMEONE told them she'd be dead in a month!" Clara glared at the Doctor.

"I didn't say DEAD," he muttered, "I said her reign would END."

"Same thing to them, dad," Tailor remarked.

Angel just shook her head, if only the woman's guard had let the Doctor finish speaking, they'd have found out it was because the woman would abdicate and usher in a democracy so that she could marry the man she loved and better the lives of her people. The Doctor just had…a very blunt way of saying things that were easily misinterpreted unless one spoke Doctor. The poor guards had taken it as a threat to their princess.

"Just keep running!" the Doctor called to them, Angel moving ahead to lead them to the TARDIS while MK9 took up the rear with his lasers.

~8~

Clara was still panting as she stepped out of the TARDIS, that was far more running than she had ever done during one of their adventures. She felt sore all over and dead tired and just wanted to curl into bed for a nice long sleep…when there was a knock on the door. She bit back the groan that wanted to escape and pulled open the door, just barely managing not to sag or start crying at the sight of Danny…in running gear.

"Oh, yeah," she recalled, almost slapping herself. She HAD told Angel about her planned meeting with Danny before the adventure had started, it seemed the girl had well and truly gotten her back just in time as she'd promised before they'd flown off, "Danny. Hiya."

"Morning," he beamed at her, "Ready to run?"

The smile she gave him was the most rigid, forced thing she'd ever done, "Mhmm."

~8~

Clara had lost all track of time by the time she made it back to her bedroom after her run with Danny, completely drenched in sweat and so out of breath she felt like she was going to pass out or be sick or both.

Too much running, way WAY too much running.

"I can't keep doing this," she gasped to herself, "I can't do it," before she swallowed and shook her head, her eyes closed as she forced herself to fight it, "Yes, I can, I can do it, of course I can do it. I've got it all under control."

She had to have, the Time Lords and Danny? Both were far too important to her to give up.

~8~

"I don't know," Tailor was saying as she stood between her father and mother, looking at the information coming up in Gallifreyan under a blinking red light on their scanner showing East London, "Should we really bring it into a school?"

"It'll be after it's closed," the Doctor remarked, "No one there, completely empty."

"It should work," Angel agreed, "I don't feel like any of the students will be in danger. So long as the school is well and truly empty, it should be fine."

"If you say so," Tailor wasn't doubting her, it was just…her mother had said she couldn't see everything, and there was just something unsettling about bringing any sort of danger anywhere remotely close to a children's school. But she could see the point her father had been trying to make, it really was the best and only place they could do this and do it safely for everyone involved.

And, really, with both her parents there AND her, what could possibly go wrong?

The moment that thought filtered through her mind she regretted thinking it, that was usually when it all started going wrong for her father, when he asked that.

But she could hope she had enough of her mother in her for it to not matter. After all, their adventure hadn't even started yet!

"Should we tell Aunt Clara?" she asked out loud instead.

"No," the Doctor said simply, easily.

"But it's her school."

"Yes. And she'll especially want to be there to make sure nothing happens because of that."

Angel sighed, not agreeing with the Doctor's decision, but understanding where he was coming from and why he wanted to keep things quiet, "This is one of those rare times, Kitta, where it really IS too dangerous to have a human around, no matter how impossibly brilliant she is."

Tailor felt a small smile grow on her face when she saw her father nodding along solemnly, seriously. Her parents did the best they could to protect their companions, their family, when an adventure turned out far more dangerous than they thought it would. But that was when they had no choice, because they didn't expect it, it just happened, and they had to be on top of things and keep everyone safe.

It was another thing entirely to know it was going to be dangerous going in, truly and deadly dangerous, and take a companion into the middle of it. This alien they were going to be facing, neutralizing, it was so dangerous her parents would rather keep Clara as far away from it as possible, for her own safety.

It made her smile because she knew her father struggled lately with relating to Clara as his sister, to expressing his care for her. But here he was, agreeing, because he didn't ever want Clara to be hurt. And, if she was being honest, she was a little tickled to think that her parents were letting HER help them. It meant they thought she could handle it, as a Time Lady, that she was ready. Oh she didn't doubt for a moment that her parents would be right by her side, probably with her sandwiched between them the entire time or handcuffed to her father or something like that. (She had a momentary thought of those poor children parents put on a leash in public and shook her head to dispel it.) But they were letting her help and that meant the world to her.

She was also half sure they were probably going to keep her far away from the actual danger, but the fact that they were trusting her with the knowledge of their plan and the enemy they were going to face spoke volumes to her.

Though, speaking of the devil, they all looked over when the doors to the TARDIS opened and Clara herself stepped in from her sitting room where the TARDIS had been parked.

Just because her parents didn't plan to drag Clara into the middle of all this didn't mean they were just going to disappear with no warning.

"So, where we off to?" Clara smiled, but Angel's own smile grew sad and understanding at the sight of it. Clara looked and sounded so tired and strained, stretched would probably be the word, spread too thin.

"Clara, you look lovely today," the Doctor said, her weariness actually seeming to register with him though he made an effort to be considerate, "Have you had a wash?"

Mostly considerate.

"Why are you being nice?" Clara asked, automatically on the defensive now.

"Because it works on you. Listen…"

"My love," Angel cut on with a light tap to his chest with the back of her hand, "Why don't you and Tailor get the coordinates in place. I'd like to talk to Clara."

The Doctor seemed confused as to why he couldn't just tell her there was no trip because they had a thing to do, but shrugged and went to do as his Mate had asked. And if he studiously ignored the snorting laugh Tailor gave at how easily he'd given up at Angel's request, no one said anything.

Angel shook her head at that, this Doctor certainly was taking some getting used to. He would fight and bicker and insult everyone under the numerous suns, refuse to follow any order. But have his Mate or Daughter ask him something and he was whipped, as the humans said.

She moved over to Clara and linked her arm with hers, leading her back towards the doors.

"Where are we going?" Clara asked, glancing back at the two Time Lords moving around the console, the Doctor exaggeratedly stepping over MK9 as the dog rolled around the base of the controls. She nearly laughed at how it appeared that Tailor was actually correcting a few things the Doctor was doing as the old box groaned gratefully around them.

"YOU are going back to bed," Angel told her with a gentle laugh, "After a nice long soak in the tub. And then you are going to have a wonderful day at Coal Hill followed by a lovely dinner with dear Mr. Pink."

Clara flushed at the mention of Danny, a good flush. A bit embarrassed, but touched, and also pleased, with a bit of anticipation. Danny hadn't said anything about a dinner, so it was a surprise.

"What about you?" Clara asked as they reached the doors, Angel opening one to the sitting room but not pushing her out.

"Oh, don't worry about us," Angel waved it off, "It's us that are worried about you."

Clara gave her a look.

"Alright, it's ME that's worried about you," Angel amended, "Tailor, too, a bit."

Clara rolled her eyes at how the Doctor was even more oblivious than the last him.

"I'm fine," she insisted, "Really. And if you've got a trip planned, don't let me ruin it just cos I'm a bit tired."

This time Angel gave her the look.

"Alright, more than a bit."

Angel laughed, "You can't fool a psychic, Clara," she reminded her, rubbing the woman's arms as she crossed them with a huff, "You've been going back and forth between here and Earth and it's got to be taking a toll. It did with Amy and Rory and we tried to pop in weeks or months between trips, not every week. And I'm guessing Mr. Pink is starting to get a bit worried too."

"How do you…" Clara began, before groaning and rubbing her head. She really MUST be tired, she was about to ask ANGEL of all people how she knew.

Angel smiled, "It's not easy to live this life alone," she remarked gently, thinking about Rose and Martha and Donna and how they kept their travels secret and how much it ended up affecting them and their families. Rose and that terrible year she'd missed, what it did to Jackie. Martha and the mere days and how it made her family a target. Donna and how her mother treated her all because she didn't know the wonderful things her daughter was off doing.

Rose had come back unchanged to a changed world. Martha had come back a changed woman to a world that hadn't even gone past 48 hours. Donna unable to talk about how she'd changed because her mother would never see a different woman.

Every companion was always so isolated, because they felt like they couldn't share their experiences. It was why she had been so pleased when Mickey and Rory had come to travel along. It was hard to travel this life alone, everything was always easier and better when it was shared. And she just had this feeling that Clara was doing what Amy and Rory had, not talking about it with the people who mattered to her.

It was what so many companions had done in the past, not talked about it. And it always seemed like the people they didn't speak to were the ones who got hurt worst in the end. She didn't want that to happen to Clara and Danny.

That and Clara just seemed so stressed and tired and living two lives was never easy.

Living two lives usually meant at least one of them got hurt in the end, more often than not both, and there was no need for it to be like that.

"And until Mr. Pink knows about your life," Angel continued, not needing to ask if Clara had told the man or not yet, Clara wouldn't be going to such lengths to endure both lives if she wasn't still trying to keep one of them a secret, "I am going to be concerned about it all I like," she playfully stuck her nose in the air for effect, earning a laugh from Clara, "Seriously though," she turned to the woman, "You're exhausted and I don't have to be an empathic psychic to know it. Take some time, Clara. It's alright to miss a trip or two if you need time to just relax. We can handle ourselves just fine."

"Where are you going?" Clara asked, though she was nodding and agreeing with Angel's assessment.

"Undercover!" the Doctor cheered, coming over to them while Tailor crouched down to speak with MK9, "Deep cover."

Clara snorted, "Can you do deep cover?" she could vaguely recall something about a Chameleon Arch that could assist Time Lords with a super deep cover, but she couldn't see any of the Time Lords being willing to use it now.

"What do you mean?" the Doctor frowned, on the cusp of being offended.

"Have you seen you?"

"Of course I can do deep cover."

"Where?" Clara asked with a giggle, "The Magic Circle?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes and gestured to the door, "We'll see you when we see you."

"And when's that?" Clara asked, looking to Angel, "Upp bupp bupp," she held up a finger to the Doctor as he opened his mouth, "Wasn't talking to you."

He rolled his eyes again and moved back to the console where it appeared Tailor and MK9 were getting into a bit of a tiff.

Angel shook her head, "Soon," she told Clara, crossing her hearts in promise.

Clara gave her a pleased nod and stepped out of the TARDIS, actually smiling when the box began to fade away with a wheeze. It might be nice, skipping this one trip. Everyone needed a vacation every once in a while.

And, if Angel was to be believed, and she usually was, then she had a cute outfit to plan out for tomorrow night.

~8~

Clara took a deep, happy breath as she walked towards the school, feeling energized and relaxed in a way she hadn't for quite a while. Leave it to Angel to know exactly what she needed, a nice night to herself, a good soak, and a peaceful night's sleep. And, having an idea that a dinner with Danny would be coming was an added bonus.

She was in such a good mood that she didn't even feel like shouting at the school boys she saw playing football over near the playground of the school where they really shouldn't be.

Other teachers, though, were not in such a light disposition and she could hear them shouting at the boys to move.

"Morning, Mr. Pink," Courtney, one of their more…interesting…students greeted as he reached the front entrance just as Clara did.

"Morning, Courtney," he returned, before doing his best not to beam at Clara when he saw her, only managing to keep it down to a very bright smile, "And good morning, Miss Oswald."

"Morning, Mr. Pink," she gave him a nod, heading into the school as he held the door open for her, studiously ignoring the giggling she could hear the girls near the entrance making, "Do they know?" she muttered to him as they walked tensely down the hall.

It wasn't that they were trying to hide their growing relationship, it was just children were nosy gossips and they'd never get any work done with the students being even more distracted than they were now. That, and they were trying to keep it professional while they were at their jobs.

"Possibly," he sighed, "They're children. It's like they've got minds of their own. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, course I'm ok," she looked at him, a bit confused, "Why wouldn't I be ok?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, "Every time I see you, it's like you're…"

"What?"

"In a rush. In a state. In a space helmet, one time."

"Sorry. Er, I was…um…helping my niece with a project," she spouted the first thing to come to mind. She really needed to work on cover stories to questions earlier than when they were being asked.

"You have a niece?" Danny blinked at that, never having heard her talk about anyone in her family past her father and gran. He honestly had no idea she even had a sibling.

"Yeah…" Clara cleared her throat, "Anyway, project's done, so I'm all yours."

Danny opened his mouth to ask more, truly very curious as to her family, if it was a sister or a brother, what her niece was like, but caught himself. He had gotten really touchy when she'd brought up his past, his original name of Rupert reminding him of being in a children's home with no family to speak of. Maybe it was like that, maybe she'd lost her sibling and her niece lived with her other parent. Maybe it was a touchy subject Clara didn't want to talk about.

He could respect that.

She hadn't pried into his past as a soldier, he wouldn't ask after her family.

Instead, he offered her a smile, "You're all mine then?"

Clara let out a relieved breath that he didn't latch onto her slip, and smiled in return, "Mhmm, the next few days are all about you. I promise."

She leaned in, momentarily forgetting where she was, about to give him a kiss…when the sound of giggling reached her from a small group of pupils at the end of the hall, and pulled away with a flush.

~8~

If Clara hadn't been so used to the Doctor droning on and on and on about wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff that made no sense to her unless she really focused on her Time Lady or Time Agent memories, she was quite sure she would have fallen asleep when the staff meeting droned on and on. Thankfully she could see the clock counting down closer to when school was about to begin so she knew the man going over all their plans for the school would be finishing fairly soon.

"Which means, Jo, you'll have to cover for 8/4M in L3," the man, Armitage, seemed about to wrap up, "Hold on, there is just a few more things. We should all wish congratulations to Ms. Detrick," he smiled, "As some of you may have heard through the grapevine, she is one of the lucky few who've just won the lottery so she's left us. As such we've got a quick last minute temp filling in for her. And, in less joyous news, Atif's off sick, so we've got a newbie filling in for him as well. I did ask them to come along for a quick greeting before…" he trailed off as there was a light knock on the door, "Ah, that should be them," he beamed, moving to open the door…

And the Doctor, dressed in brown coveralls, holding a broom, stepped in. Angel was beside him, wearing a blue dress that went to her knees and a white apron over it.

Clara wasn't sure if she should be happy or worried that Tailor had followed them in as well, dressed in a simple white button up shirt and black skirt that went to her knees, black flats and glasses she vaguely recalled seeing the Doctor's 10th self wearing perched on her nose.

Tailor being there could mean one of two things, that what they were there for was not dangerous at all and so she was tagging along with her parents…or that it was so dangerous the safest place for her was right next to them.

She was going to kill them.

"Hello," the Doctor greeted, "I'm the new caretaker. John Smith," he smiled, winding an arm around Angel's shoulders, "And my lovely wife, Angela."

"Nice to meet you all," Angel stepped up to shake everyone's hands, "I'll be in the kitchens!" it was a bit odd, to the other teachers how excited the woman sounded over that.

"And I'm Taylor," Tailor added, "They home-school me so I'm tagging along," she smiled, "I'm going to be assisting Miss Oswald and Mr. Pink's classes today."

"Can never have too much help," Danny smiled warmly at them, moving to shake the Doctor's hand after having done so with Angel, "Welcome to Coal Hill, Mr. Smith."

"Thanks," the Doctor grinned, "Yes, John Smith's the name. But, you know, here's a thing. Most people just call me the Doctor," his grin morphed into a smirk when he caught sight of Clara and winked, "So, if anybody needs me, just, you know, give me a shout. I'll be in the storeroom just getting the lie of the land."

Tailor did her best not to laugh as the staff began to leave but the Doctor just kept rambling on.

"Yes, no body's taking any notice at all. Absolutely good news because it means I must be coming across just as an absolutely boring human being like you," he trailed off a bit when Clara mouthed 'what are you doing here?!' to them. He just gestured her through the door, shutting it after she passed, "See?" he turned to his daughter, "Deep cover. Deep cover."

Angel could only shake her head at him with a fond smile.

~8~

Danny glanced at Clara as they walked down the hall towards an assembly that was about to take place. She was quite tense, appeared rather startled and a bit angry, while constantly looking over her shoulder back at the lounge.

"Do you know them?" he asked, a little curious.

"Know who?" Clara countered, a jump in her voice.

"The Smiths," he remarked, "That Doctor bloke."

"Never seen them before in my life."

"Bit intense looking he is," Danny mused, "The girls seem sweet enough, but did you see those eyebrows?" he chuckled, before it faded, realizing something, "Did he wink at you?"

"No, I think that was just a sort of general wink, you know? He winked at everybody. It was a general welcoming wink. Ah, I have, er…" she began to pat herself down, "Left some markings…. Assembly. Chop-chop. Off you pop," she urged him on even as she turned and headed back towards the lounge, "Catch you in a bit. Excuse me."

Clara tried not to run, and liked to think she managed to 'hasten' towards the room in a non-suspicious manner. Though the way she burst through the door in time to see the Doctor crumble a paper and shove it in his pocket before shutting it and locking it behind her probably did little to help that.

"Aunt Clara!" Tailor cheered, hurrying over to hug the woman.

"Hello Tailor," Clara hugged her, but shot the Doctor and Angel a look over her shoulder.

"So, you recognized us, then," the Doctor realized.

Clara crossed her arms, unimpressed, "You're wearing a different coat and Tailor's got a pair of glasses on. It's not much of a disguise."

"But it is A disguise," the Doctor countered, "And you saw straight through that."

"As she should," Angel quipped, "She's family after all. She's as brilliant as her brother," she offered Clara a wink for that.

"Deep cover in my school?" Clara began tapping her foot in impatience, "Why? Where's Atif, what have you done with him? Did Nancy really win the lottery?"

"Yes, an adventure, sick, hypnotized, and yes," Angel answered in order.

"Hypnotized?"

"He's fine."

"He thinks he's got the flu," the Doctor nodded, "Also a flying car and three wives. It's going to be a rude awakening."

"Is it aliens?" Clara cut in, sensing a ramble about to come, "Oh, my God, is that why you're here? Are there aliens?"

"It's assembly," the Doctor spoke before Angel or Tailor could. They had all agreed not to tell Clara everything, for her own safety, because, truly, this really WAS a very dangerous and delicate situation and they just wanted her to be out of it. Seeing her getting worked up and alarmed was probably going to eat at his Mate and Daughter, bless their gentle hearts, and they'd spill every detail of it to her. So it fell to him to be the buffer and stand strong, "You'd better get going. Go and worship something."

"Are there aliens in this school?" Clara held firm, shoving down the broom he'd begun poking her with as he tried to guide her to the door.

"Listen, it's lovely talking to you, but we've really got to get on. We've all got a lot to do. I'm a caretaker now. Look, I've got a brush."

"And I'm going to be a dinner lady," Angel smiled, still sounding far too pleased.

"Good for you," Clara deadpanned, before looking at the three of them, "Now, I really need to know, is there an alien in this school?"

"3," Tailor told her, gesturing to her parents and her. She was a bit disappointed she hadn't been able to bring MK9 along. But if they were at least trying to blend in with humans, a futuristic robotic dog would not help that. He'd been quite peeved about it, wanting to tag along to protect his mistress. But they'd negotiated with the dog, he was in the TARDIS and running scans to keep them updated on the situation.

"Us," the Doctor nodded, "Now, go. The walls need sponging and there's a sinister puddle."

But Clara shook her head, refusing to move, "You can't do this. You cannot pass yourself off as a real person among actual people."

"He's done it before," Angel remarked.

"Yeah!" Tailor chimed in, excited to see one of her childhood stories playing out before her eyes, "Dad's worked in a school loads of times!"

"Like with Rose," Angel nodded, "He was the physics teacher," she had been in the library that time while Rose got to be a dinner lady. Now it was her turn.

"Though...he DID blow up the school..."

"What?!" Clara demanded.

"But there was also the lovely school in the early 1900s," Angel tried to reassure her, "He taught history then."

"Yeah, he didn't blow that one up, Aunt Clara," Tailor agreed, "He just blew up a spaceship in a field next to it."

"The Rattigan Academy too."

"That one he blew up the atmosphere..."

"Yeah, not making me feel better," Clara informed them.

"Really though, Aunt Clara, it's fine," Tailor reached out to take her hand, "This is your job, dad won't blow it up or anything. He's learned not to do that since he blew up Aunt Rose's."

"This is just proving to me that he can't do it," Clara deadpanned.

"Oi!" the Doctor frowned, "I lived among otters once for a month. Well, I sulked. Angel and I, we had this big fight..."

"Oh, that was NOT a fight," Angel snorted, recalling the time when she'd told the Doctor that she agreed with the TARDIS and how it referred to Rory as 'the Pretty One.' He hadn't been happy she'd thought Rory was 'prettier' than him, though she'd told him repeatedly that she thought HE was handsomer. Hadn't been good enough and he'd gone on a sulk about it.

"Human beings are not otters!" Clara shouted at the same time.

"Exactly," the Doctor agreed with Clara, "It'll be even easier."

"Ok, right," Clara huffed, turning to Angel and taking her hand. She should have just done this right off the bat, "Angel, one question: are the kids safe?"

And, of course, because she had chosen to ask Angel this time, it was the one time the Doctor finally answered, "No. Nobody is safe. But soon the answer will be yes, everybody is safe, if you let us get on."

Angel shook her head as Clara glared at him, "Yes, Clara," she told the woman, squeezing her hand to draw her attention back, "The children are safe and they will stay safe. We're on top of it all and nothing will hurt them while we can help it. The best thing to do is go on like you don't know us. If you draw attention to us, other teachers will notice things, and THEN we'll have a problem."

"Ok, fine," Clara let out a long breath, knowing it had to be true because Angel didn't lie.

"Yes, now, pretend you don't know us," the Doctor cut in, shooing her out of the room, "Stay out of our way. The less you know, the better. We'll explain it all later. Go and sing with the otters."

Clara rolled her eyes at him, "I hate you," she huffed under her breath as she strode out.

"That's fine. That's a perfectly normal reaction."

"Really shouldn't be dad," Tailor shook her head at him, patting him on the arm as she went to follow Clara, she was supposed to assist with her class.

Angel reached out, a hand on the Doctor's arm, to lean in and kiss his cheek before she, too, followed her daughter out of the room, heading for the kitchens. There was a lot to do to get lunch ready for the school and she'd better get a start on it.

She paused though as she passed a wall with what looked like lipstick on it, stepping back to see one of the students had written 'Ozzie loves the Squaddie' on it in the makeup. She tilted her head, eyeing it a moment...

...the sun beat down on the desert-like environment, Danny Pink ducked behind a car in tan camouflage, throwing a grenade over it...

...gunshots went off everywhere, Danny braced against a wall beside a door, turning just enough to push it open and fire his gun inside...

...Danny moved to the doorway, looking in, horrified at who he saw within, sinking to his knees in tears...

She let out a breath, blinking as the vision faded, "Oh, Rupert..." she breathed, knowing that what she'd seen was Danny Pink's past. Clara hadn't told her much about her 'mystery man' but she gleamed enough from brief snippets of visions and feelings, piecing it together from past adventures and just paying attention to the woman and what she said...and didn't say.

That poor man.

She had seen the guilt in the Doctor over what he thought he'd done to Gallifrey, and he had had numerous thoughts and convictions and things he told himself to try and cope with it all.

But Danny wasn't the Doctor.

And the Doctor had discovered everything he thought he'd done was wrong, and that Gallifrey lived, it was back, he had saved it.

Danny didn't have that chance.

And he was in such pain.

She had felt it so strongly when she'd shaken his hand. He hid it under smiles and and a quiet demeanor, but he was hurting badly from what had happened. His past haunted him as much as the Doctor's had, and no one deserved to live that way.

With that in mind, Angel reached out to touch the wall, a faint waft of gold drifting out from her fingertips, erasing the markings as they went till the wall was cleared and blank once more.

If 'Ozzie loved the Squaddie' then maybe the Squaddie loved her in return, and if they made each other happy, then they deserved to BE happy without other people teasing them about it.

She smiled and nodded, turning to continue to the kitchens, even more plans forming in her mind as she went.

~8~

On a quiet street just outside a rather old building, two schoolboys were set up just outside the wrought iron gates of the building, playing a video game.

"Basically, you've to get that guy on the block and stop that other one shooting him," one of the boys was explaining to the other, "It's so sick."

"I…I got that guy," the other scoffed, "That was, like, six months ago. You actually have to do is flick it that way."

"Nah, but I'm saying…"

Their fun was interrupted by a Community Support Officer that had noticed them loitering and was heading over to them, "You Coal Hill kids?"

"Yeah? So what if we are?"

"Then get to Coal Hill."

The second boy shook his head, "We've got a free period, mate."

"You want me to take your names?"

The boy sighed, "Come on. This is unfair, mate."

The officer shook his head as the two boys headed off back towards their school, when something rattled on the other side of the gate, nearly making him jump out of his skin. He huffed, glaring into the darkness of the building, "Always come in threes," he muttered, before shouting out, "Oi! I know you're in there."

He quickly opened the gate and stepped past, having a bit more of a struggle with the old piece of iron that was keeping the main door to the building shut. He tossed the bar aside and headed in, calling out, "Hello? I'm a police officer. There's no point hiding. Do you hear me? Come on, kiddo."

Instead of a child's voice, however, a deep, mechanical tone spoke out, "5 stop intruder. 5 stop intruder."

He rolled his eyes, kids these days with their blasted game boxes, "Turn your game off. It's time for school. Come on. Stop messing about!" he leaned over slightly, shining his torch light in the direction he'd heard the grumbling…

Only to freeze when something that was very much NOT a child came trundling out of the dark.

It looked like a robot of some sort sitting on top of a giant bauble that had four spider-like legs sticking out of it. Even worse, there were no hands he could see but what was clearly some sort of weapon lashed onto its arms.

"Problem solution: destroy," it stated, aiming one of its arms at him.

The scream only barely left his throat before the monster attacked, bullets ripping through him, tearing the human to pieces and leaving nothing but a smoking, severed hand on the ground.

~8~

Angel shivered slightly as she straightened up in the kitchen where she was working, a frosting bag in her hand, cupcakes set up before her. She looked over her shoulder, out the window, a deep frown growing on her face.

'We'll stop it,' the Doctor's voice spoke in her mind, knowing she had likely sensed the latest victim of the alien they were tracking, they had long since figured out what her shivering out of nowhere meant, 'I promise. No one else will be hurt. Not a single child.'

Angel swallowed and took a breath, nodding her head, trusting her Mate.

~8~

Clara could not keep the pleased grin off her face even if she wanted to. Never before had she EVER seen her class so engrossed in a book before. It was usually like pulling teeth to get them to just pay attention when she talked let alone actually follow along with the books she tried to teach them about.

She shouldn't have put it past Tailor though.

The girl was sitting in front of the class, reading to them, putting on different accents and personas for each character from the book. The girl seemed truly SO excited about the story and eager to share it that it seemed to have spread to her students, they were actually leaning forward in their seats and grinning.

For a moment, she considered if it might actually be something going on, something Tailor was doing. She had seen Angel at work, swore up and down the girl had to have some sort of magical ability beyond the Vortex to manage the things she did. Now, knowing Angel was an empathic psychic, she had, at times, wondered if Angel might be able to influence other people's emotions instead of just reading them. She hadn't seen anything really like that though, and Tailor hadn't displayed the same level of foresight or sensations as Angel had. So the girl, even if she might one day be an empathic psychic like her mother, there was no sign of it now.

It was just her natural charm getting the students as wrapped up in the book as she was.

She honestly hadn't been sure how this would go. She hadn't planned for anyone assisting her class today and had to come up with something for the girl to do.

A small part of her dreaded it though. For as much Angel's daughter as Tailor was, she was also the Doctor's daughter too and things always seemed to go wrong when he popped up. She shouldn't have worried though, she gave Tailor the most basic duty, to read. No way to muck that up or start some sort of intergalactic incident.

"'Though unheard by Lydia," Tailor read on, "Was caught by Elizabeth, and as it assured her that Darcy was not…"

The sound of a squeaking chair cut into her reading, seeming to shock the rest of the class out of their listening when they saw Clara had abruptly stood from behind her desk.

It was only Tailor, who was facing the class as well, who could see that it was because her father had popped up in the window, having climbed a ladder to the back of the classroom.

"You alright, Miss Oswald?" one of the male students asked.

"Yes, Kelvin, I'm fine," Clara gave them a tense smile, gesturing to Tailor's books, "You carry on."

Tailor gave her a hesitant nod and began to read to the class again, hoping to distract them once more while her Aunt went to speak to her father, "'Every feeling of displeasure against the former was so sharpened…'"

Clara, careful now to avoid any other noises, placed a chair next to the window and stood on it to speak to the Doctor.

"Can I help you, Mr. Smith?" she nearly hissed at him. If he wanted to go on some sort of secret mission and drag Angel and Tailor into not telling her what it was (and she HAD prodded the girl about it before class), then that was his business, but he was NOT going to disrupt her class and her teaching.

She had worked too hard to keep her professional life separate from her personal life for it to barge its way into her professional life now.

"Wrong," he said, seeming to just keep his voice on the cusp of quietness at the last moment, having gotten a sharp, reprimanding look from his daughter as she read.

Really, he hadn't meant to pop up or interrupt, or point out an inaccuracy on Clara's board, it was just…he heard his daughter reading and how was a father to resist peeking in?

"I'm sorry?" Clara cut through his thoughts.

"On the board," he jerked his head towards it, "Wrong. Wrong."

Clara glanced back at the quote she had written on the board, 'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife' - Jane Austen, 1797, and back at the Doctor, shaking her head, "Oh, no, no, no, no. You don't do this. You are the caretaker, this is not what you do."

"Just taking care…"

"Not your area!" Clara hissed, barely keeping quieter than Tailor's reading.

"Jane Austen wrote Pride and Prejudice in 1796."

Clara had to thank whatever powers that be were out there that Tailor had managed to enrapture the class once more, none of the children even seemed to notice the conversation going on behind them. The last thing she wanted was to have this argument in front of her entire class.

"Not in 1797," the Doctor continued, taking her silence as her asking for more reason, "Because she didn't have the time. She was so busy doing all…"

"Oh, what?" Clara snapped in a hiss, "I suppose she was your bezzie mate, was she? And you went on holidays together and then you got kidnapped by Boggons from space and then you all formed a band and met Buddy Holly."

The Doctor blinked at her, "No, I read the book to Tailor when she was younger," he said simply, "There's a bio at the back."

Clara's jaw clenched though she didn't know if it was more from the fact that she'd apparently put information that was incorrect according to the biography on the board or that Tailor had known and not said anything.

"Get down," she said instead, nodding at the ladder.

The Doctor gave her a small smile in counter, "Boggons?"

"Go!" she huffed, spinning around when the bell rang to signal the end of class, Tailor closing the book lightly, though given how the girl was staring past her shoulder she could only assume that the Doctor was STILL there, "Right, that's it," she called to the class as she moved back to the front, "Now, everyone thank Miss Smith for a job well done."

"Thank you, Miss Smith," the class said as one.

Clara smiled, "Now, off you pop. Get going. See you all in a couple of days. Thanks very much."

"Miss, what about our homework?" Kelvin called out as the class began to gather their things.

"Who asks for homework?" Clara scoffed…only for Tailor to put her hand in the air, "Should have known," she muttered, shaking her head fondly.

Tailor laughed and stood up, moving to the back of the room and hopping onto the chair Clara had left, the Doctor still leaning half into the room with his arms crossed over the edge of the window. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Jane finished writing the book in 1797," she remarked, making sure Clara could hear her in the emptying room, stopping her from erasing what she'd originally written on the board, "So the date still applies."

The Doctor let out a laugh, shaking his head as he began to climb down the ladder again.

"Thanks," Clara spoke, moving to give Tailor a hug from the side, before the two women turned to head out of the room. She had a free period next, but she knew Danny had been scheduled for lunch duty and would be heading there shortly. Just enough time to introduce the two to prepare for the Maths class.

~8~

The Doctor stood in the corner of a courtyard garden wedged in the middle of the school, working on a junction cabinet as two male teachers spoke with him. One was a vaguely familiar black man, the other bore a striking resemblance to his last incarnation, floppy hair and bowtie and all. He glanced over when he saw his daughter and Clara entering the other side of the yard, only to get stopped by another male student.

"Miss Oswald…" the boy began.

"Hello, Tobias, can't really stop," Clara offered apologetically, knowing time was short before Danny would leave…but also, now that she saw the man speaking with the Doctor, wanting to get over there even more quickly and try to stop the Doctor from either insulting the man or blurting things out he didn't need to know about…or both at the same time.

"I'm in the football team against Durrants on Thursday. Sorry, but can I go early from English Thursday afternoon?"

"Tobias, you can do whatever you want," Clara tried to push the child gently to the side, though she felt just a brief respite when Tailor caught sight of her father at the same time and hurried off to hug him. Tailor, at least, would be able to keep the Doctor from being too rude.

"Ah, Clara, can I grab a quick word?" the headmaster spoke as he stepped up to her.

"Actually, I, er yes…" she sighed, not about to brush one of her bosses aside.

"Two weeks Saturday, the fete, can I put you down for tombola and the raffle? James H. can't cover it now. His wife's going into hospital. Hip replacement. Constant agony."

"Great," Clara cut in, before wincing, "No, awful. That's terrible. Awful. I hope she'll be ok. Er, I'll do anything. Anything. Ok, bye," she hurried past him…only for the infamous Courtney to cut into her way.

"Miss Oswald, Katie Sharps says I pulled her hair in Biology."

"Courtney, you are big enough to look after yourself. Next class, jog on, I need to talk to Mr. Pink."

Courtney shorted as she rushed off, "Ozzie loves the Squaddie," she muttered.

Clara stopped and turned to face her, "What was that?"

Courtney's eyes widened and she quickly dashed away with a "Nothing!"

"Of course, Danny Pink here is your man, Mr. Smith," the teacher in the bowtie, Adrian, was speaking to the Doctor as Clara neared, not wanting to interrupt but also really wanting to, "Five years' military experience, sergeant, here and Afghan, so electrics, boilers, if you need a hand, give him a shout."

The Doctor barely contained a smile, not at what the man was saying, but at how his daughter was fighting the good fight to contain her giggles, clearly having noticed the similar fashion sense this man had to his last self. Though, given that he could see Clara picking up a watering can from a girl and using it to get nearer instead of just joining the conversation, she could have been giggling from that as well.

"I…I've helped Atif with a couple of things," Danny said modestly.

"I'm sure I won't need you, Sergeant," the Doctor reassured them, "Fully qualified."

"It always does that," Tailor defended when the cabinet he was working on sparked suddenly.

"You best get back to your PE class," the Doctor nodded, focusing on the box.

"Dad, he teaches Maths," Tailor reminded him, "I'm going to assist with a class after lunch!"

"Ah, right, yes, yes, so he does," he mused.

Adrian opened his mouth to say something else when the sound of glass breaking reached them and he sighed, hurrying away, "Mohammed, put that down!"

"How does that work?" the Doctor asked, "What if the kids have questions?"

"About what?" Danny turned to him.

"Maths."

"I answer them," he said simply, not understanding, "I'm a maths teacher."

"But he said you were a soldier."

"Yeah. I was a soldier, now I'm a maths teacher."

"Same way someone could be a soldier, and then a Doctor," Tailor nudged her father in the side.

The Doctor nodded along to that, it made more sense when his daughter put it that way, but it still left out something else, "But what about all the PE?"

"I don't teach PE," Danny reminded, "I'm not a PE teacher."

"But don't you help the kids exercise sometimes?" Tailor asked, now getting her father's constant questioning about PE. Her mother had mentioned something Clara had told her about a Cadet Corps or something, how a Mr. Pink led them in exercises and what not. Clearly her father had absorbed that bit of information but not the rest of it, how Mr. Pink was a Maths teacher as well.

"Oh!" Danny got it as well, nodding, assuming they'd heard about it through the school grapevine, "Yeah, a bit. I helped start the Coal Hill Cadets. It's just a bit of fun for the kids, something to do before classes, little drills and such."

"Er, excuse me. Mr. Pink," Clara cut in, seeing the Doctor about to open his mouth and not wanting to hear what he might say, "I think lunch is about to start."

"Yes, you better run along, Sergeant," the Doctor agreed, "That ball isn't going to kick itself, is it?"

"It's…it's not a PE period…" Danny began, but shook his head when the Doctor went back to the cabinet. He sighed, turning to Tailor instead, "Stop round my classroom after this period and we'll go over some of my plans for today's class. Sound alright?"

Tailor nodded, watching as Danny walked off to get lunch period sorted.

Clara waited till he'd disappeared through the doors and back into the building before she turned to the two Time Lords, "So, Pink? The name remind you of anything?"

She'd talked to Angel a bit more about her 'Mysterious Mr. Pink' as Angel liked to call him. Tailor always seemed to be off with the Doctor doing something or another whenever Angel would bring him up or check on how things were going.

"Yeah," the Doctor deadpanned, "The color."

"Hold on," Tailor frowned, "The colonel. Orson Pink…"

"The guy we met at the end of the universe," Clara nodded.

"Oh, yeah," the Doctor considered it, "Ok, yeah. Same name, doesn't look anything like him though."

Tailor snorted, "Looks very like him, dad."

"Does he?" he glanced at his daughter, "Didn't notice."

Clara snorted this time, "You don't notice anyone that's not Angel or Tailor."

Honestly, it would be worrying how true that was if she hadn't known about the trauma and stress the man had gone through in his last body. Being forced to not-notice his Mate and then, by extension, not noticing about his daughter growing within her? His Mate and Daughter being captured and regenerating because of that lack of care?

It made all the sense in the world why he only seemed to notice them now. In his mind, he had a lot to make up for.

"Nothing wrong with that," the Doctor shrugged off her words, placing a device with three green lights into the cabinet and locking it up.

"What was that?" Clara caught sight of the device, "What are you doing? What…what's in there?"

Instead of answering, the Doctor spun around to face her, "So, is he here then?"

"Is who here?" Clara asked, momentarily thrown by the change in topic.

"The one that you keep going on serious dates with."

Tailor could only shake her head fondly at how truly oblivious her father was. She recognized Mr. Pink from the restaurant way back when her father had been afraid of 'the thing under the bed' and Clara got caught up in it. There was no real saying that Clara had continued to see the man after that, or even after their last adventure, until Clara officially introduced them to her boyfriend that is.

"If he is, are you going to start talking like a normal human being?" Clara countered, not feeling like giving him an answer after he didn't give her one.

He rolled his eyes at that, "I promise I won't. I'm being nice."

"Doctor…"

"Clara!" Adrian was back, hurrying up to them, "Got this period free, yes?"

"No," she answered promptly, before groaning inwardly, knowing Adrian would only ask if he already knew the answer, "Yes."

"Great. Shakespeare!"

"Sorry, what?" she turned to him fully, "Adrian?"

"Oh, I see," the Doctor murmured.

Tailor frowned, glancing at her father, how he was starting to grin and glance between Clara and Adrian. Before it dawned on her what was happening and what he thought. Clearly, he was under the impression that Adrian was Clara's mystery man.

She was very tempted to correct him that it was a higher chance of being Mr. Pink…but it was so rare that her father was ever wrong about something it was much too much fun to watch.

"You see what?" Clara gave him an odd look.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Excuse me," Adrian spoke, offering the Doctor an apologetic smile, "We have to talk about 'The Tempest.'"

"Oh, I love that play!" Tailor beamed, hurrying after Clara and Adrian as they began to head inside the building once more, pulling a small notepad out of her pocket to take some notes about how humans taught.

"In light of the changes to the sixth form Shakespeare module blah-de-blah," Adrian was saying.

"Yes, sorry, of course," Clara nodded, making an effort to pay attention…only to stop short when they saw that the Doctor and Tailor had followed them. Tailor, it made sense as she was still technically assisting Clara for the morning till Mr. Pink was teaching in the afternoon. But the Doctor…

"Yes, yes, no, of course, of course, yes," the Doctor seemed to realize it was HIM they were staring at, "Don't mind this old man. You two kids just pop off together."

"Why are you talking like an idiot?" Clara whispered to him as Adrian began to walk again.

"I'm a caretaker," he shooed her on, "Don't mind me," Clara shook her head, going after Adrian with Tailor as he shook his head, fond, "Oh, Clara."

Tailor had to bite her lip, hearing her father, it really was going to be quite amusing to watch him fumble through this.

"What we have to get across," Adrian continued, leading them around a corner, "I feel, is that fascinating enigma of its not-finishedness."

"Mmm," Clara hummed along, "Yes, good point, Ade."

Tailor, who was dutifully following Clara through the halls and taking notes about the discussion between her and Adrian, slowed as she passed a group of students heading the opposite way. She blinked a moment, feeling an odd sensation, and turned to look at them again. Her eyes widened as one of the girls chatting with another behind the larger group caught her eye and she called out to her, completely stunned to see her there when, last she heard, she and her mother should still be in Ealing not Shoreditch.

"Skye?"

Chapter Text

Skye Smith turned at the sound of someone calling her name, frowning when she saw a blonde girl staring at her. It took her a moment to realize though, that it wasn't just some random student, but someone much more important when she caught sight of the pink bowtie necklace the girl wore.

"Tailor!?" she gaped.

Tailor beamed and rushed over to hug her 'cousin' tightly, "Oh my god," she squeezed her, "You've grown so much!"

"Me? Look at you!" Skye laughed, giving her a glance up and down. The last time she'd seen the girl she'd looked about 10, but now she was more a teenager. She did a quick calculation, given what her mother had told her of Time Lord aging, "What are you now, 500?"

To anyone passing by, it could sound like a joke, but only the two girls knew how real it could be.

Tailor laughed, "Close, 406," she answered, "Uncle Jack didn't warn you all?"

"He did," Skye nodded, "But everything happened so fast he didn't get a chance to snap a picture of you for us, and he hadn't seen you guys touch down on Earth since then. He just said you looked like a teenager now. No regeneration, thank god, but just older."

"Yeah, we've mainly hung around here," Tailor agreed, realizing her uncle had been trying to track them down on Earth to check in. She and her mother had called everyone, they all knew that the Doctor had regenerated, that she was older, but they hadn't been in to SEE them yet, "Speaking of here, though, what are YOU doing here?" she grew serious, "Has something happened to Aunt Sarah?"

"No!" Skye rushed to reassure her, "No, nothing like that. Mum just...missed everyone. Clyde and Rani went off to Uni and it was just me and her and, well, things really calmed down on Bannerman Road. Mum still has the house there and Mr. Smith runs scans all the time for any activity, but it's been quiet, so we moved here."

"Wanted to be closer to the action?" Tailor guessed.

"And the family," Skye agreed, "Everyone's seemed to move closer over the years. And when mum found out Aunt Clara was a teacher here, she thought it was a good time to move. Luke is actually interning with UNIT so that was another reason for mum to move us closer."

"Oh Uncle Jack must be so mad," Tailor laughed. Luke was SO smart, Jack must be beside himself that the boy preferred UNIT to Torchwood.

"He was a bit," Skye nodded, "Till I told him I'D like to try out for Torchwood one day. I think he's just happy to get A Smith onboard."

"He'd be very luck to have one," Tailor smiled, though a part of her couldn't quite see Sarah Jane allowing Skye to work for Torchwood, not when it meant her daughter would be around so many guns, "He'd have a Smith and a Jones, no better team."

And, speaking of Smiths and Joneses, she should really find her parents and let them know Christmas was going to come early and they should maybe stick around an extra day for parents' night, just to 'make sure things were alright.'

~8~

Danny looked up when a slice of cake was set down on a plate before him, "Oh, I'm not…is that carrot cake?" he interrupted himself, glancing between the cake and Angel as she moved to sit beside him at the small table set up for the unfortunate teacher selected to watch the dinning hall that period.

Angel smiled, "I have it on good authority it's your favorite," she offered with a wink.

Danny looked sorely tempted, but sighed, "I'm not supposed to be snacking on duty," he explained, not wanting to be rude when the woman had given him his favorite dessert, "Gotta stay sharp and keep an eye out for mischief."

"Oh, I don't think the kids will cause any," she argued lightly, "Not with you around. You're Dan the Soldier Man!"

Danny's small smile began to fall, "What?"

He couldn't help a small niggle in the back of his mind that that was familiar...

"Sorry," Angel gave him an apologetic look, "The kids aren't exactly tight-lipped. I've heard them call you Squaddie, that means you were in the army, doesn't it? A soldier?"

"I was, yeah," he nodded, absently picking up the fork from the little plate and picking at the cake.

"Thank you," she said, startling him when she didn't immediately launch into questions about where he was stationed and his rank and what he did and how long was he there and did he kill anyone, like everyone else seemed keen to do.

"Um…welcome?"

Angel laughed lightly, "My…husband," she caught herself from calling the Doctor her Mate just in time, "And I, we were both soldiers too. I won't pry about any of it. We may not have fought in the same war, but war is war and it's never fun. So thank you, I'm not sure if you hear it enough."

He cracked a small smile at that, "You as well."

"Go on," she nodded at the cake, "I've been snacking on the treats we've been making all morning," she laughed, she really had, taken little bites of every dessert.

Quality control! She'd defended when the other dinner ladies gave her odd looks and mutters about where she put it all, but it was yummy and how could anyone resist making cookies and not eating the dough or the cookies when they were still warm and gooey from the oven. And it wasn't like she horded it all, she'd made plenty, having been assigned to desserts, for the other ladies as well so they could snack if they wanted. It just seemed like she was the only one with any sort of appetite...though now that she thought about it, the fish fingers and custard she'd set up right next to the frosting might have dampened their desire to eat. After making so many sweets, she'd been craving something with a little more to it and, in a moment of nostalgia, asked if she might use some of the fish fingers they kept in the freezer with some custard.

It was delicious.

She shook her head out of her thoughts, "I won't tell if you don't."

Danny let out a laugh and nodded in return, digging into the cake as Angel stood, patting him on the shoulder as she went back to the dinner line to help with the last few stragglers that made their way into the room.

"It's blue!" he heard one of the students saying, and looked over to see one of the boys in his cadet corps holding up a cupcake with blue frosting.

He tensed a moment, not sure if a food fight was about to break out, but the boy just grinned madly.

"That's my favorite color!"

"I got orange," another girl said, showing off her orange frosting, and sounding so excited it was clear to all it was her favorite color too.

"Ha!" a different boy scoffed, grinning so smugly it was as though he were happier than them, "Well, I got a brownie! I love chocolate."

Danny watched in a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and mild awe as other students began to compare their desserts, all seeming pleased to death with the treat or color they received. He blinked at that thought, and slowly turned in his seat as he was sure he hadn't seen the desserts set up in the normal area of the line, only to see there were a few trays right at the very end of the lunch line, littered with different treats. Cupcakes, brownies, cookies, all set up right behind Mrs. Smith who was just plucking the treats, what seemed at random, and placing the desserts on the trays, much to the delight of the students when they saw what they got.

He looked down at his carrot cake and back to the woman, and down once more, before shaking his head, "Nah," and laughing a bit to himself as he cast off his odd thoughts.

~8~

The Doctor smiled to himself as he moved about the school, 'taking care' of it while also slipping more of his little gizmos around. He hid them on the lights of the school corridors, in small cabinets, in vents, anywhere he could place them where they'd connect to the range he was forming. He'd been feeling conflicted all day, the same constant pang he always felt when he was away from his Mate too long. After Christmas, it wasn't easy to be apart from her when they had been constantly together for all those centuries. It was easier, after he regenerated into this form, when there was some sort of danger or distraction around. Not easy, but easier at least. If there was some imminent danger, he could use that, that Mating drive to keep Angel safe, to pry himself away from her and take care of the danger. He could dull the ache he felt to be at her side by using the danger to focus on that.

Not that he ever really WANTED to be apart from Angel, that was ridiculous.

But during the times where it was necessary for them to split up, it was easier when there was a pressing danger, like whoever had been after Charlotte the Dinosaur. Or even if there was something maddening, like how irritating Robin Hood was, to keep his mind off the ache.

Right now he could feel that pulsing need to be around her, he could feel his own basic desire to just be near Angel. And there was no real danger at the moment, no distractions, just mindless tasks he could do in his sleep.

It did nothing to help.

But his Mate always seemed to know when he was barely hanging on by a thread. She'd been keeping him abreast of things happening on her end in the kitchens. She'd had a bit of a fun game going during her shifts, giving the children their favorite treats out of colored cupcakes, cookies, and brownies, before they could even say which they preferred. The students had apparently been thrilled and mystified by his psychic. She'd been a constant presence in his mind, letting soothing emotions drift over the bond they shared to keep him from going off on any of the smaller pudding brains running through the halls.

'You shouldn't call them that, my love,' he heard her in his mind, 'They're children.'

He snorted, 'Everyone is a child compared to us, even the taller pudding brains.'

'Still rude,' she murmured.

He rolled his eyes, but nodded with a sigh, about to respond when he spotted a piece of graffiti on a window, 'Ozzie loves the Squaddie.' He shook his head at that, 'And you say, I'M rude,' he sent to Angel over their bond, sharing the image he was looking at with her, and receiving a giggle in his mind in return.

"What does that mean?" he huffed, pulling out a rag, "Kids. What's the matter with kids today?" and quickly got to work wiping it off the window. As soon as that was done he made his way through the halls, out to the playground, placing another of his devices inside a drain grating.

"Shoot!" a boy shouted, drawing his attention. He looked up to see a black rook set up on a chessboard painted onto the ground of the play area had been knocked over by a football, "Yes!"

"Hey!" Clara was shouting, "I said you could play chess, I did not say you could play football on the chessboard. Jack, Morgan, come on, help me out, clear it up."

He chuckled as he watched her wrangling the unruly children, starting to whistle Pink Floyd's 'We Don't Need No Education,' as he headed back into the school. He'd set up most of the devices, he just needed to run some test scans and make sure they were in the right positions. Angel hadn't reached out to tell him to nudge any of them, so he assumed it meant things were in place. But, this really was quite a serious plan and his girls would be involved, he needed to make sure it was absolutely perfect.

"And one for luck," he murmured to himself as he popped one of his devices into a hanging basket just outside the caretaker's storeroom. He pushed through the door to see the TARDIS set up in the back, just where he'd left the old girl.

"Ok," he nodded, "Now we're in business. Let's see the lie of the land. Time to see what's going on," he stepped into the box a green light nearly blinding him from where various scans were already being run.

"Master!" MK9 squeaked, trundling over to him, "All scanners indicate optimal range."

He smiled at the little metallic dog and squatted down to pat it on the head, earning a tail wag from the pup.

"Hello?" a voice called from behind him, small, human, female. He huffed, getting to his feet once more, "Oi. What are you doing? Are you in there?"

"Mirror, mirror on the wall," he grumbled to himself, "Who's the most dangerous of them all?"

'Rude,' Angel spoke up, seeing how his thoughts had gone to humans, their curiosity, and how he was thinking he should go out there before the girl wandered into the box like humans were wont to do, going places they shouldn't.

'Curiosity killed the cat,' he countered.

'Sissy loves children,' she reminded him, 'She'd never allow anything to hurt them while in her.'

He moved to the console and turned off the scans, not responding as he had nothing to counter with. He could feel how smug she was about that.

"There's been a spillage in Geography," the girl outside the box was shouting, though sounding like she was getting closer to the doors, "I need some paper towels."

He moved to the doors and stepped out, "Can't you read?" he asked the young, black girl that had wandered in.

"Course I can read. Read what?"

"The door," he pointed to the storeroom door where he'd put a sign up, "It says, 'Keep Out.'"

"No, it says, 'Go Away Humans.'"

"Oh, so it does. Never lose your temper in the middle of a door sign."

"What was you doing in there? What's that box?"

"The caretaker's box," he moved to the side, keeping himself in between the girl and the box, "Every caretaker has their own box."

"It says 'Police.'"

"Exactly, there's a policeman in there, in case of emergencies and children," he stepped past the girl and picked up a roll of the paper towels, turning to lightly shove them to her, "Towels, there, g-g-go."

"What was that green glow?" the girl asked, refusing his shooings, "There was a green glow coming from in there. What was it?"

"Of course there was. What's a policeman without a death ray?" he looked up as the bell rang, "Oh, listen, there's the bell. Off you go. Haven't you got shoplifting to go to?"

The girl glared at him for that, "I'm going to tell the Headmaster."

"Oh, yes, fine," he rolled his eyes, "Well, cut along, you're running out of time."

"For what?"

"Everything. Human beings have incredibly short life spans. Frankly, you should all be in a permanent state of panic. Tick tock, tick tock."

The girl gave him an odd look, "You're weird."

"Yes, I am."

"But your daughter's not."

"No, she isn't, far as I can tell," he shrugged, "What about you?"

"I'm a disruptive influence," she spoke proudly.

"Good to meet you," he reached out to shake her hand.

"And you," the girl returned the gesture.

"Now get lost."

"Ok," the girl shrugged, and headed out of the door, just as Clara opened it to enter, "Hello, miss. Love to the Squaddie."

"Sorry, what did you say?" Clara asked as the girl, Courtney Woods, dashed past, before shaking her head when she didn't answer, "What was she doing in here?"

"Paper towels," he answered shortly, "Now, I imagine you have many questions. Fire away. I won't answer any of them."

He was quite thankful now, that Angel wasn't there, nor was Tailor. They both were too honest for their own good and Clara's big eyes seemed to have some sort of puppy-like effect on them. Leave them alone together and he was sure the woman would have been able to work some sort of answers out of Angel. Clara was his sister, yeah, but siblings didn't tell each other everything, in fact, he recalled he and his brother rarely told each other anything of import. The only time they really revealed anything was when they were trying to get the other in trouble with their parents.

Clara, however, crossed her arms, "I don't know why you think that'll work with me," she deadpanned, "I've met the family, remember? I doubt any of them let you get away with this kind of thing and I'm not about to start. This school is in danger."

The Doctor smiled a bit at her sass, reminded of Donna and how she would never let him get away with half the things Rose and Martha and even Amy had, "Well, it's lucky I'm here with my girls then."

Clara rolled her eyes, "It's in danger from you, Doctor."

"Me?" he scoffed. If it was just him, perhaps he could understand that. But Angel AND Tailor were there. If it wasn't enough for Angel to be as much a good luck charm as she was, what possessed Clara to think he'd ever (ever, ever, ever!) put his daughter in danger?

"You wouldn't be here if there wasn't an alien threat nearby," she explained what she'd worked out, "Your strategy for dealing with it clearly involves endangering this school or you wouldn't be tinkering around here or bringing Angel and Tailor in to try and reassure me it's not as dangerous as it is."

"You don't know that."

"I don't know anything because you haven't told me anything! And neither have Tailor or Angel, and for them not to say means I very much will NOT approve, which means you are endangering this school."

The Doctor scoffed, "Really Clara, ye of such little faith when my Mate is an angel incarnate?" he went on activating his sonic, revealing one of his green devices sitting on a table.

"What's that?"

"And really," he kept on, either ignoring her or not hearing her, "Do you honestly think I'd ever endanger a child? Ever?"

"Doctor," Clara cut in, a bit of a flush to her cheeks as he reminded her of that. She was just…she KNEW he'd never endanger the children, but, well, Tailor bringing up how he'd blown up a school in the past wasn't helping. And this wasn't just a random school, it was her JOB. He didn't have the best luck NOT blowing up schools and peoples places of employment and here she was in BOTH, "What is that?"

"It's a scanner," he sighed, "I'm just scanning. Why do I keep you around?"

"Because if you kick me out of the family, the rest of the family will probably go after you and you'd never hear the end of it," she muttered, not believing for one moment that he wouldn't keep her around, "And the alternative would also mean developing a human conscience of your own."

"Angel's conscience enough."

"Alien conscience," Clara corrected. As much as Angel had a human soul, could feel what humans felt, and was so close to her human family, she was still an alien and there were some things that the woman couldn't understand not being human. That was where SHE came in, she liked to think, "Scanning for what?"

The Doctor just straightened and crossed his arms, not about to tell her. Honestly about to tell her to go back to her classroom, when the storeroom door opened and Angel stepped in with a small carton in her hand. His eyes widened as he saw her, "Oh, don't…"

'It was a mistake not to tell her,' Angel argued to him, 'I'd hoped she'd be a bit more distracted by her date tonight, but Clara does love these children. She's worried for them is all.'

"Alien tech," Angel answered, moving over to the Doctor's side as he groaned in a long-suffering way. Really he should have known she'd be keeping as much tabs on him as he was her and he should have known she'd be on her way there.

"What kind of alien tech?" Clara crossed her arms even more.

The Doctor opened his mouth, about to actually answer, when Angel spoke instead, "There's a creature called a Skovox Blitzer in the area."

"And what's that when it's at home?"

"An alien," Angel repeated, "It was probably attracted to all the Artron Energy in the area and, sooner or later, it's going to wander into the humans and it never ends well, especially when the alien isn't humanoid."

Clara shifted on her feet at that, glancing between the Doctor's mildly confused expression and Angel's very basic explanation, not sure what to make of it. Angel didn't lie, so she trusted that the woman was being honest about the alien and, if she was being honest with herself, she HAD seen enough of non-humanoid aliens being treated with suspicion by humans. The Time Lords would do anything to keep both safe, aliens and humans.

But…if that was all it was, why was it such a secret?

"You've been helping us SO much Clara," Angel spoke, not quite reading Clara's mind, but sensing where her thoughts were going, "We CAN handle some things on our own. You deserve a break and a nice date without us popping up and disturbing it or putting you in a bind before it's started."

"Why now?" Clara frowned at her, there had been plenty of other adventures where she was sure they could handle themselves without her but had still taken her along.

Angel hesitated, biting her lip a moment, before sighing, "It's going to be an important night," she offered. It was hard to describe, it was like each time she saw Clara there was this bubbling feeling in her gut, each time it felt stronger, like something was about to happen, a tipping point, but in a very good way. It was so close she couldn't help but feel like tonight it was going to happen, whatever it was, and she didn't want to ruin it for Clara.

The Blitzer just happened to be happening at the same time.

"What's so important about it?" Clara asked, racking her mind to make sure it wasn't Danny's birthday or an anniversary or anything, but came up blank.

"I don't want to ruin the surprise," Angel shook her head, "It's just a feeling, that you shouldn't be bothered tonight and that you're gonna love it. This alien, it's nothing we can't handle."

"Fine," Clara huffed, convinced for the moment, but there was one thing bothering her about all of this, "Why are you using the school though?"

"We're going to lure it here," the Doctor said simply.

"What?!"

"AFTER it's closed for the night," Angel added, reaching out to take Clara's hand as the woman looked like she was going to have a stroke, "After all the students have gone home and the staff has left. When absolutely NO one is here."

"Look," the Doctor pulled a digital watch with an expanded metal bracelet from his pocket, showing it to Clara before slipping it on, "This is a very special watch," he pressed a button on it and disappeared from sight.

Clara blinked, startled, "Doctor?" she nearly began to look around for him, when she realized Angel was still standing there with her arm around empty space…and a bit of her hair on one side of her face was moving like someone was running their fingers through it absently, "Wow…oi!" she jerked back when she felt something on her nose, "Did you just flick my nose?" before she shook her head, "You're invisible. Ha, ha! Oh, my God, that's incredible."

"Correct," the Doctor's voice spoke from just about where Angel was standing, "I am invisible and I am incredible. It's simply a matter of reversing light waves. Hang on, I'm coming back…" a moment later he reappeared right where she thought he was, "We're going to give the Blitzer a tiny whiff of non-threatening alien tech to lead it back here…"

"It's got a very sophisticated scanning system," Angel added, "And we don't know how it'll react to a Time Lord or any other alien…"

"Hence the invisibility," Clara followed along.

"If we had any other place to lead it, Clara, we would," Angel promised her, "But Coal Hill is the only empty place that works."

"I've set up a circle of time mines around the school," the Doctor agreed, "Chronodyne generators. Bit unstable," he shrugged even as he tossed her one of the devices, "We switch them on, the Blitzer gets sucked into a big old time vortex, billions of years into the future."

"Why are you sending it to the future?" Clara asked, "Can't you just give it a ride back home?"

"They're…very temperamental," the Doctor offered, "And very simple creatures," it was QUITE a stretch to call a Blitzer 'simple' but in a technical sense, it was very basic programming, very set standards of operations, "Exposing it to time travel like the TARDIS might not go well."

Clara gave him a narrowed look, it…made sense. She could admit that, not everyone reacted well to the TARDIS and if it was as simple a species as the Doctor said, the TARDIS might be too much for it. She couldn't help but picture a skittish creature, willing to run away at the first sign of a fright or something unknown. They just wanted to get the creature home and if a portal was the easier method, which had to be otherwise they would have just parked the TARDIS around it and carried it off to the future, who was she to argue with their methods?

So long as no one got hurt, which it seemed they were taking precautions to ensure, it shouldn't be a problem.

She began to shift, looking between them, "…and you're sure you don't need any help?" she asked, though her tone was torn.

Angel smiled at that though, it was so like Clara to want to help even as she wanted to be somewhere else with her Mr. Pink. She nodded, "We'll be just fine, Clara," she even crossed her hearts in promise.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, taking the device back from Clara, "We don't need you this time. We'll see you tomorrow, go somewhere nice. Ancient Egypt. Crocodilopolis. They worship a big crocodile there, so the name is a useful coincidence."

"Go," Angel urged her lightly, "And have a lovely night."

"Yes, go and canoodle with your boyfriend," the Doctor spoke, finally seeming to catch on, grinning at how startled Clara appeared that he had, "Come on. I wasn't born yesterday. Far from it."

Clara beamed, "You did recognize him!"

"Possibly reminded me of a certain dashing young time traveler," the Doctor nodded, winking at Angel, who bit her lip and looked like she was trying not to laugh.

"Oh, of course you recognized him," Clara let out a little giggle, "I…sorry. Stupid. I…I underestimated you."

Angel had to look away, seeing who the Doctor was picturing in his mind…someone who was certainly NOT Mr. Pink.

"It's easily done," the Doctor shrugged it off, "There's a lot to estimate."

"Quite a lot," Angel could agree with that at least.

"And you...you like him?" Clara asked hesitantly, sounding for all the world as though she were a little sister seeking her big brother's approval.

"Yes," the Doctor nodded, a fond look on his face, "I like him very, very much."

"I think he's wonderful," Angel added, hoping it would mean something to Clara when she realized the Doctor had gotten the men wrong. She'd tried to tell him just now, had tried to show him an image of Mr. Pink in her mind, but he thought SHE had gotten it wrong. Not in any sort of mean way, but more of a 'it had to happen sometime' way. It was quite amusing.

"Go home and canoodle," he waved Clara off, "Doctor's orders. Come on."

"Just this once, I'm doing what I'm told," Clara warned him.

"Oh, sing hosanna," the Doctor rolled his eyes as Clara laughed and headed for the door. He watched Clara go, waiting till she'd left the room before he turned to Angel, "I don't think I've ever heard you lie before."

Angel rolled her eyes, "It's not a lie," she replied, "We CAN handle the Blitzer, we ARE scanning for alien tech, the school WILL be empty, and Clara DOES deserve a night off."

"Yeah," he agreed, "But a Skovox Blitzer is one of the deadliest killing machines ever created," he reminded her, "It's not just any old non-humanoid alien. There's enough explosive in its armory to take out the whole planet, which is just as likely to happen as soon as some military idiot attacks it."

"Which is why we are going to stop it," she leaned in to kiss his cheek, before she shifted, holding up a small carton to him, "But first…"

The Doctor blinked and took the carton, opening it and laughing at what he saw, a small cake square with white icing and edible ball bearings sprinkled on top.

~8~

Clara was cautious as she approached Danny on the playground, now that his maths class was over, he had free period to watch the kids. She wasn't sure if her conversation and lingering tension regarding an alien being lured into the school later that night was showing.

"Miss Oswald," he greeted, seeming to pick up on her conflict as he gave her a wary smile.

"Ah, Mr.…Mr. Pink."

"Are you still on for tonight?" he cut right to it, "Cos you had your I'm-about-to-cancel frown on."

She blinked at that, "There's a specific frown?"

"And I was going to say, it's ok, I might have a thing, so…"

Clara gave him a look, feeling a bit touched that he would make something up just so she wouldn't feel bad about cancelling, which made her feel worse about all the times she'd cancelled in the past, "A thing?"

"Er, tomorrow instead?"

"Tomorrow's parents' evening," she reminded him, a time when the parents came in to get an evaluation on their children's progress from the teachers, they were given the day to prepare their notes for each child.

"Not all evening."

"No," she agreed, "Not all evening."

Clara almost smiled at how well he knew her, to know she had different frowns. But this one wasn't so much that she was planning to cancel, but more that she was starting to get nervous. Angel seemed very intent that she go on this dinner and not in a 'we want you out of the way' sort of way, but more 'there is something important that we don't want to muck up for you' way. So what was so important Angel felt like she had to go? What was going to happen between her and Danny that had Angel so insistent?

Oh. My. God.

Was Danny going to propose? Is THAT what it was? Was he going to ask her to marry him!?

No. She shook her head from those thoughts, no, no he wasn't. He couldn't be! They had NOT known each other long enough for that to come up.

…right?

But if he did…what would she do? She loved him, yes, of course she did, but she hadn't even TOLD him that yet and…

Oh. My. God.

THAT was it!

Now Angel's words that she was going to 'love' the surprise came back to her. This was it, this was the night they were finally going to SAY it, say those three words.

And…the fact that DANNY had asked for this dinner, it meant HE was planning to say it first!

Oh she'd been agonizing over whether he felt the same way, especially with how weird she got around him because of her travelling, but now…now she knew it hadn't bothered him. That he liked her (loved her!) in spite of it.

She smiled, she could NOT let this night pass up now, "But no," she added, "I'm not cancelling. I'm all yours."

Danny beamed at that, inordinately pleased, about to let her know…when he caught sight of Mr. and Mrs. Smith stepping out of his storeroom just as Taylor Smith walked over to them, the girl seeming to be vibrating with excitement over something, "What do you think of him?"

"Er, who?" Clara blinked, glancing over her shoulder to see the Time Lords, "The caretaker?"

"Where did he come from? What was he before? He doesn't seem like a caretaker."

"And his wife seems like a dinner lady?" Clara quipped with a laugh, before shaking her head, "Well, they speak very highly of you."

Danny shook his head as the family walked off and focused back on Clara, "Anyway," he smiled, "I'll see you later?"

"See you then, Mr. Pink."

"Miss Oswald," he nodded at her, turning to go with a spring in his step that made Clara giggle to see.

~8~

"Can I do it?" Tailor asked, bouncing on her toes as she looked at her father with big, wide eyes. She had barely let her parents step out of the main doors to the school before she'd rounded on them, "Please, dad?"

The Doctor chuckled, "Alright, alright," he pulled the sonic out of his coat pocket and flipped it in his hand so he could hand it to her.

'So much for your big speech about telling her 'no,'' Angel's voice rang out in his head, causing him to roll his eyes at her.

He HAD said that HE would be the one to lure the Blitzer to the school, citing it was far too dangerous and the emissions had to be just right for it to work and how it would take a skilled hand and that was why HE would do it. He'd sworn up and down that that was that.

And lasted all of 20 seconds before he caved to his daughter's request.

'Well what do you expect?' he countered, 'Really? I could never say no to YOU and she's a miniature you.'

Angel laughed at that.

'Besides,' he continued to defend himself, 'She'll be right in the middle of us. Nowhere safer.'

And really, where else WAS safer? He'd be right beside her to keep watch on the tech going on, making sure she was using just the right amount to distract the Blitzer but not enough to make it fire at a perceived threat. And Angel would be there too, with her senses open and the Vortex at her fingertips, ready to teleport them away if things went wrong.

He doubted they would though. Oh he knew he usually thought that in the past, would say something to that effect and have it all go to hell as a result. But this time…he really believed it. He had heard an echo of something in Angel's mind, after he'd regenerated, how Tailor had wanted to be able to DO things more, to learn how to be like her parents. He knew, he had experienced even, what happened when children were kept from doing what they wanted. His children on Gallifrey had rebelled something awful from time to time when they felt he or their mother were suffocating them or holding them back.

He didn't want to make that mistake again. He couldn't afford for it to happen, not with Tailor, not with his Kitta.

It was an odd combination of wanting to do better by her than he had in the past, wanting to have the best relationship he could with her and…and just wanting to make sure she'd be ok. He had enemies, Angel, even, had enemies. They had already hurt his family in the past and he would give anything to prevent it happening again. And that meant…that meant he needed his daughter to be better, to be able to handle things.

She'd gotten SO excited when they'd robbed a bank, just a silly old bank, and he could see her sense of adventure and excitement at new experiences, so like his own, shining through. He wanted to make sure she was safe and cautious in a way he wasn't.

Hence the Blitzer.

Honestly not the best way he would have wanted this to start off, but it was an opportunity for his daughter to learn WITH her parents at her side to help.

He knew his 'deep cover' was shoddy at best, he knew he really didn't have the patience to blend in with the humans any longer, if he ever did in the past. Christmas had stripped him of that, given him his fill of humans for the time being, he liked to think. But even HE could admit he was being FAR more cautious about this trip than he had in recent times. He'd researched the enemy, he'd come up with a plan, he'd ensured that every feasible error could be avoided. He had safety precautions in place with the watch and his sonic and the mines and an empty school he was familiar with.

And Tailor had been with him every step. Researching, planning, helping him build the mines even. She'd helped with the math for where to place them, calculated the range, even the amount of the sonic pulse they'd need.

He just…he wanted to show her she could have an adventure without the danger, that she could KNOW how to set it all to rights without being in jeopardy.

This was his way of making sure his daughter did better than HE did.

She'd already regenerated once, and that was one time too many as far as he was concerned.

Never again.

Not if he could help it.

And this was his way of helping it.

He was going to let Tailor have more to do on their adventures, but slowly and surely, not just dropping her out of the TARDIS into an ocean and hoping she could swim. He would teach her, show her in his bedtime stories the ways he went wrong, so she wouldn't. He needed to know that, if anything happened to him and Angel, she'd be ok, she'd be able to handle herself.

Not that he had any plans to go anywhere nor let anything happen to Angel for the indefinite future, but with his enemies…

He wanted her to learn alongside them instead of rush off on her own in a pique of irritation with her parents.

They'd missed the terrible twos, god only knew what the teenage years would be like.

"Right," he shook himself out of his thoughts, "Are we all set?" he held up his wrist to show off his watch, Angel and Tailor mimicking him with their own in place, "Then…"

"Geronimo!" Tailor cheered, starting to walk off with the sonic clutched in her hand.

The Doctor physically deflated at that, "I was going to say let's go."

Angel let out a gentle laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek, and whisper, "Allons-y," in his ear before taking his hand and leading him off after their daughter as he chuckled.

~8~

"I'm not even gonna bother asking if you're sure, mum," Tailor spoke as Angel led them to an old building with a metal gate around it only two blocks away from the school. They had scanned the area, they knew the location of the Blitzer, but they were going to use the sonic to lead them to the pinpoint location.

Angel had just beaten them to it.

"Home, sweet home," the Doctor eyed it. He glanced at his girls, holding up his watch, waiting for them to do the same before activating it, the three of them turning invisible.

The moment they disappeared from his sight, the Doctor tensed. Immediately his mind turned to a small realization that he was probably going to have to stay awake for quite a few days till he just collapsed after this. Seeing his Mate and Daughter vanish before his eyes was doing his head in. Intellectually, he knew they were right there, he could sense them even, the tingling in the back of his mind when another Time Lord was around alerting him to that fact. But, emotionally, his Mate and Daughter had just vanished and why, in any universe, had he ever thought this was a good idea?

A moment later, just a split second after the invisibility was activated, he felt someone he couldn't see take his hand.

'Can you see me?' he asked Angel, knowing instinctively it was her.

'I can always feel you, my love,' she told him, more than just his emotions or physical presence, but his mind and the instant anxiety he'd begun to feel, 'We're both right here beside you.'

He swallowed hard, nodding to himself though no one could see, "Right," he said out loud, his voice a whisper, "Blitzer time."

He smiled when he heard Tailor's giggle.

There was a tug on his hand as Angel began to lead him towards the building, he could hear Tailor's light footsteps behind them as the Time Lady led the way. He tightened his hold on Angel's hand, returning the comfort she had given him, when he felt her tensing at the darkness of the halls. Neither she nor Tailor were a fan of the dark spaces, but they both found ways to cope. Angel had his hand, Tailor had their trusty sonic.

"Where are you, my sleeping beauty?" he began to murmur, his lip quirking to the side, knowing it was lightening the tension for his girls.

Angel slowed, "Around the corner," she warned them, all three carefully making their way around to see the Blitzer, in the flesh, activate at the sound of their approaching footsteps…

But the alien machine didn't attack, looking around as it tried to scan but saw nothing.

"Gotcha," he grinned, "Let's dance!" he chuckled, "Tailor…"

Tailor nodded and gripped the sonic tightly in her hand, taking a deep breath before clicking it on…

~8~

A few minutes earlier...

Clara's smile, which had been warm and happy, grew more and more strained the nearer she and Danny got to Coal Hill.

Oh their dinner had been lovely. It was in this little cozy pub, the meal had been divine, and she'd stepped out in the brisk night feeling buzzingly warm. He hadn't said it yet, hadn't said those three words, but he'd been so adorably nervous all night that she was almost itching to just say it first. But she didn't want to blurt it out, he clearly wanted to say it and she didn't want to steal his thunder. This had been a night HE had planned, she'd let him have his moment.

But…there was a bit of a knot in her stomach as they went for a walk back to her flat. Danny was always such a gentleman, insisting on walking her home. And, yeah, her flat might be reached by walking past Coal Hill, but there were other routes, more direct from the pub than the way Danny had started to walk

Though, maybe this was just his way of making it sweet? Telling her he loved her at the place they both first met?

If it was…she could only feel that knot grow bigger because she knew that the school was the LAST place they should be tonight…and had no way of really telling Danny not to go there without a reason.

"I knew it," Danny muttered, slowing at the corner and looking at the school.

Ok, so the look on his face was telling Clara this was definitely NOT a long walk to gather his courage nor was it a destination he'd planned to go to all along. He was frowning at the building, with narrowed eyes that were…locked on the retreating figures of Angel, the Doctor, and Tailor who had just stepped out of the school to head down the block.

She groaned internally as Danny began to head towards the school with firm steps.

"Danny, what are you doing?" she asked, pretending she hadn't seen the Time Lords departing, "We shouldn't be here after hours…"

"Neither should they."

"They who?" she winced, frantically trying to think of a way out of this.

"The Smiths," he answered, crossing the road, "That Caretaker and his wife, his daughter too. They were here and the school's been closed for hours. Why?"

"Maybe they forgot something?" she offered, a reasonable thing, "They only started today, they might have left something…"

But Danny shook his head, "That man's been acting weird all day," he argued, reaching the doors to the school, "And I'm going to find out what. It's not right, how he was tinkering about…what is that?" he stopped dead just inside the doors, spotting a device blinking green and stuck under one of the fire alarms. He reached out and yanked it off.

"No, don't!" Clara tried to stop him, but it was too late, the green light turned red.

"Do you know what this is?" Danny turned to her with a frown, she'd sounded a bit too frantic and warning just then…

"What?" she scoffed out a laugh, "You just said he was doing something shifty and then you go and touch something equally shifty?" she pointed out, hoping he'd believe her.

Danny seemed to realize that, his eyes widening as he looked at the device, hoping to god he hadn't just pulled a bomb off the wall that was going to explode in his hands.

Oh, my god, was it a bomb?! Was the Caretaker setting up bombs around the school? What the bloody hell was wrong with him!?

His expression grew stormy as he stalked down the hall towards the storeroom…only to stop when he saw another device in the hanging basket by the door. He glared at it, ripping the device out as well.

"Danny, don't…" Clara tried to argue weakly, not needing to be Angel to know that this was going to end very, very badly…

~8~

It was slow going to lure the Blitzer to the school, but with each step away from the old building and towards Coal Hill, Tailor felt more and more confident that their plan was working. The Blitzer was following them, and so far no other incident had occurred, they were SO close!

"9 stop, query rescan," the Blitzer gave minor reports behind them as they went, "Target reacquired: success, success."

"Come on, come on, come on," the Doctor's voice sounded ahead of her only a few feet, before the doors to the school were opened, "Gangway! Not far now. Come on."

"Almost there," Angel reassured her, putting a gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder so as not to startle her but to comfort her the nearer they got, "You're doing so well, sweetheart."

"9 stop parsing data: pursue. Target reacquired."

The Doctor grinned, they were ALL doing surprisingly well.

~8~

"Did you hear that?" Danny asked, turning around suddenly at hearing a sound from the front doors of the school.

"No," Clara said quickly, "What? No. It's just creaking," she tried to scramble for an answer, "Buildings creak."

But Danny was already off, striding for the doors, shouting out, "Hello?!" but no one was there.

~8~

By the time Tailor had uttered an 'oh no' the Doctor had already turned off his invisibility watch, as had the girls. He spun around in the auditorium of the school to see that the devices he'd set up around a circle of chairs were blinking red instead of flashing green.

"What?" Angel stared at them, feeling startled that she hadn't seen this coming. She'd had such a good feeling about the night, and this was shaping up to be very much the opposite of nice.

"Red?" the Doctor gaped, rushing forward with Angel and Tailor, snatching the sonic from his daughter to try and get the devices back on track, "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

"You said this should be fine," Tailor looked to her mother.

She nodded, "As long as the building is empty it…" and then she realized it, "Someone's moved the other mines."

Before the Doctor could even try to switch the sonic to scanning for the ones that were moved, to try and find some way to shift them back into place with the Blitzer in the same building…it crashed through the doors after them.

"Range 1.49: scan complete," it began to move its arms, as though about to get them in position of attack, "Problem, problem."

"Listen!" the Doctor tossed Tailor the sonic, moving in front of her to block the Blitzer's sight of her, holding his hands up in peace, "We're unarmed. We're peaceful. My Mate more than anyone you've ever met," he added, quickly trying to think of a way out of this, "Don't you understand? I…I know that you shouldn't be on this planet but we can help you with that. We…"

"Problem solution:" the Blitzer cut in, "Destroy."

"Oh no you don't," Angel moved beside her Mate, a golden glow of the Vortex starting to swirl around her hands and in her eyes.

And then, as though it wasn't bad enough, Danny Pink stormed in through the doors despite Clara trying to call him back, "I want a word with you…" he began to point at the Doctor...when his words cut off as the scene registered.

A giant robot with guns for arms standing in front of the Smiths with the red devices set up in some sort of ring behind them.

"Get back!" Tailor shouted, "Aunt Clara, run!"

Danny had only a moment to catch that the girl had shouted 'AUNT Clara' before the robot thing was turning on him.

"Problem solution: destroy!"

Danny threw himself at Clara, pulling her into his arms, having felt her grab his to try and pull him back, turning to shield her from the shots the alien-robot-thing was firing at them, ready and willing to die to keep her safe…

When he felt nothing, no pain, no burning sensations of bullets ripping into him.

He turned his head to see a wall of brilliant gold energy had sprung up behind him, blocking the attack. He could just see past it, through the swirling, to Mrs. Smith, her hair blowing from the force of the energy that was surrounding her, the same golden energy as the wall.

Unfortunately, or perhaps luckily, he'd dropped the device in his hands when he'd gone for Clara, the object rolling across the room, having gotten past the golden wall before it was erected…and clashed right into the circle of other devices, turning them green.

"What the hell…" he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

Mr. Smith had grabbed some sort of metal wand from his daughter and aimed it at the devices, causing a mad, swirling vortex to spring up in the middle of the circle.

"Angel!" the man shouted, and Mrs. Smith nodded, throwing out another hand and the alien-robot-machine-of-death rose into the air in wafts of the gold light, and was thrown, with a swing of her arm, towards the vortex.

"Temporal disrupt," the robot was shouting, "Warning. Warning. Temporal failure."

"Mum!" Tailor yelled, having ducked down behind the chairs, watching her mother half in awe, half in concern as she did her best to not only move the Blitzer, but protect them from its wild firing, AND using her power to keep them from being sucked into the vortex along with the machine.

"Warning: system failure. Abort. Abort."

With one final push, the Blitzer went sailing into the middle of the vortex, the Doctor quickly using the sonic to cancel the vortex, flickering it out and casting the room into silence.

Slowly, now that the danger was gone, the golden glow began to fade, Angel panting more from the startlement of it all than from the effort it had taken her, let out a breath only for it to be stolen when the Doctor pulled her into his arms in a crushing hug. Tailor hopped up, running to join her parents after that close call…usually they could see it coming or had some sort of inkling things were going to go bad, but this really felt like it was out of nowhere this time.

"Oh, eww," Tailor muttered into her parents' sides as she glimpsed her father kissing her mother deeply in relief of them being ok. She didn't want to see it THIS up close, but she wasn't going to end the hug just yet.

Her father, though, seemed to have other ideas when they heard Clara's voice drift over to them, asking Danny if he was ok. The Doctor jerked back so quickly it actually jolted both her and her mother. But that just gave her more room to swoop in for a hug of thanks herself.

The Doctor looked from where Clara was helping a very stunned human up, to one of the devices, the one he'd distinctly seen in the man's hand when he'd stormed in, "Oh, oh, well done, PE," he huffed, moving over to snatch up the device now that they were offline, "Brilliant work. What's this? A chronodyne generator? I'll just deactivate that, shall I? I've got a swimming certificate so that qualifies me to meddle with higher technology. Never mind that some people are actually trying to save the planet. Oh, no. There's only room in my head for cross-country and the offside rule."

"Dad," Tailor cut in, giving him a mildly disapproving look.

Which was something to be said that it wasn't a completely outright disapproving look.

It wasn't often that Tailor let her father get away with being rude without calling him out on it, even rarer that she felt like being rude to people herself…but after this? Perhaps a bit of rudeness was called for.

They'd all almost gotten sucked into a vortex and that was AFTER nearly being shot by a Blitzer!

And, well, she knew it was even more than that.

Her father did NOT do well when his Mate or daughter was in danger, and this human had just put them both in a very extreme one.

Honestly, it was a surprise her father hadn't grabbed the man by his coat lapels and hurled him into the vortex after the Blitzer.

"Danny, are you alright?" Clara repeated, the man still seeming in shock, so much so that he didn't seem to realize how much Clara herself was NOT in shock.

"What the…" Danny tried to make sense of it all, "No. What?" and then he looked at Clara, himself panting and shaken and stuttering and honestly so disturbed…to see her looking remarkably calm and collected and what?! How? He shook his head, "Did you see that thing? Tell me you saw that thing."

She nodded slowly, "I saw the thing, yeah," she admitted, right now her concern about how close they'd all come to being killed by a decidedly not scaredy-alien like she'd imagined it was overpowering the lies she'd been telling herself about keeping her lives separate, for she turned right to the Time Lords and asked, "Doctor, are we safe? Is the planet safe? It's gone, Angel?"

"Yeah," Tailor answered instead, pulling away from the tight hug she'd given her mother, her eyes on her father as he paced along the ring of mines, "For now at least."

"What do you mean 'for now?'" Clara frowned, watching as Angel stepped away from her daughter to reach out for the Doctor, the man going right to her side the moment she held out her hand, "The chronodyne worked, it's gone."

"Except that the chronodyne generators have to be precisely aligned to generate the vortex correctly," Tailor explained.

"And the sergeant here, he went and moved one," the Doctor spoke, his voice nearly a growl despite having Angel alive and well and safe in his arms, unharmed, like their daughter was. But he was vibrating with rage right now. Trying to keep it in, because he did not want to blow up around his daughter, and his Mate didn't particularly like when he was shouty at people (especially scared people, which Mr. Pink clearly was but he didn't particularly care right now how the pudding brain felt). It was enormously difficult to rein it in.

This was supposed to go well. He'd planned it out. He'd done it all on purpose this time, actually made an effort to be cautious and safe and educational…and he had NOT been expecting it to turn so badly. Maybe that's why he felt like ripping the pudding brain's head off and seeing if there was any actual pudding inside his skull.

It was one thing to know it was dangerous, to expect something to go wrong, to brace for it when it inevitably happened. He could do what he could to keep his girls safe. This time…this time he'd been so sure it was going to be fine, not his normal cocky 'of course it'll be fine even though it's raining fire and brimstone out' way but a real and genuine belief it would be ok. And then to have it go so wrong and the danger just abruptly show up and have it be because of someone else's actions? Actions he hadn't anticipated or been aware of?

It was the shock along with everything else.

All he had to do was look at the burning hole in the middle of the chairs stacked in the corner of the room to feel the rage bubble to the surface. That could have been Angel. Or his daughter. Or his sister. If his Mate had been any less powerful or in control as she was, this could have ended up much worse.

The fact that his Mate had had to use her power to protect them all only served to make that bubbling turn into an all-out boil.

"It hasn't gone far enough," Angel sighed, hating to say it, but knowing that it had to be said, even as she felt the Doctor tense in her arms, "It'll be back here again."

The Doctor shook his head, burrowing his nose into her hair and inhaling her scent, "How long have we got?" he asked her, "74 hours?"

"Three days?" Tailor moved over to them, taking her father's hand as she watched him desperately try to keep a lid on his anger, "That's not bad," she offered them a smile, "We can think of something to do in half that time."

Angel took a deep breath and pulled away from the Doctor, "We're going to have to," she warned him, "Less than 24."

He closed his eyes, his jaw tight, hands clenching, squeezing Tailor's as though trying to draw strength and calm from her, but it wasn't working. Because, "Now it knows what to expect," he realized, "Now it's scanned all of us and will kill us on sight. Thanks to PE here."

"But Angel could stop it," Clara stepped over to them, hearing a dark threat in the Doctor's last few words, moving to put herself between him and Danny, "You can't tell me that thing is any match for the Vortex."

That was probably NOT the greatest thing she could have said, to imply he should let his Mate face down the deadly alien on her own.

"Except for the fact that 'that thing' is one of the most deadly robotic entities in the Universe," he countered, "It's got security measures upon security measures to ensure its never threatened."

"It's scanned me, Clara," Angel explained, feeling him getting more irate at the realization, "It knows the um, firepower," she offered for lack of a better word, "I've got and it will react accordingly if I try to use it again."

"It'll blow itself up before it lets itself be defeated like that," Tailor added for simplicity.

"Yes, thank you PE!" the Doctor snapped. IF he had ever even considered for the briefest nanosecond of time that Angel could be 'used' in such a way to stop the creature, that would have been all shot to hell now. The moment the Blitzer saw her even a hint of gold around her it would self-destruct to take her out with it.

That seemed to snap Danny out of where his mind had gone as he too stared at the hole in the stacked chairs, "Clara…" he said slowly, just because he hadn't spoken, didn't mean he hadn't been listening, "Why are you talking to them like that? Why are you using words like chronodyne? Was that thing a space thing?" his eyes widened as he saw her standing before the three clearly-aliens and looking far too familiar with them, "Oh. Oh, my God, you're from space. You're a spacewoman. You said you were from Blackpool!"

The Doctor scoffed and walked as far away from Danny as he could, Angel giving Clara an apologetic look before hurrying after him. Tailor just looked between the two groups, not sure what to do in this increasingly awkward situation.

Clara tried to offer Danny a smile, shouting out the first thing that came to mind, "It's a play!" admittedly NOT her best excuse to date, "For the summer fete," Danny didn't look impressed, "I was talking to them today about helping out and that…that's what they were doing. They were rehearsing a play. A surprise play. And, er, you see, the vortex thing is…is a lighting effect. Very clever. And that thing is…is one of the kids. In fancy dress. Really, really good fancy dress."

Tailor leaned in by Clara's shoulder, "I don't think he's buying it…"

"No, I'm not," he agreed with a glare, turning it to Clara, "How stupid do you think I am?"

"I'm willing to put a number on it," the Doctor mumbled.

"Hush," Angel gave him a warning look, "This was partly my fault," she reminded him, "I should have seen something, sensed something…"

She was starting to get a faint suspicion that she was just too excited for Clara's night to feel much of anything else. Like, what was about to happen for Clara just overpowered anything that could go wrong. She wasn't sure if that was right, but just…perhaps she'd put too much focus on sensing Clara and not enough of that night? The Doctor had had a plan, an actual real plan and not a thing! That, of all things, gave her all the assuredness in the world that this was going to work out fine. He had put it together with Tailor and so why should she worry?

This was her fault too.

"I'm not a moron, Clara," Danny, luckily, hadn't heard them, "And they're not caretakers or dinner ladies or…or teaching assistants."

"Well…" Tailor began to argue, but decided better and fell silent.

"I know who they are," Danny crossed his arms, "They're your family. Your space family. He's your dad, isn't he? She your mum? Is the girl your sister?"

"Well he's not completely wrong," Angel murmured. They WERE Clara's family, just…he got the relations wrong.

"How can you think that I'm her dad when we both look exactly the same age?" the Doctor shouted over, honestly feeling a little insulted that the man would ever call him anyone's father but Tailor's.

"We do NOT look the same age," Clara groused.

"Isn't that what twins are though, the same age?"

"Since when are we twins?"

"Well, siblings…"

"Not all siblings are twins!"

"Fine, fine, you can be the younger sister."

Clara seemed about to nod at that, when it struck her, "Hold on, did you think I was the OLDER sister?"

"Oh, she sounds like Donna," the Doctor complained, recalling all the times that Donna got irritated whenever someone thought she was older than she was.

Tailor bit her lip at the mention of the family, knowing one of her Aunts was closer than they knew.

"Oh my god, he's your brother?" Danny sounded quite a bit disgusted with that.

The Doctor shook his head, getting very irritated now. It was one thing to insult him, and he very much was, but to sound so horrified by the idea that he and Clara might be related, well it just made him feel like the man had insulted his daughter at the same time.

"Right, I'm going to hypnotize him," the Doctor pushed off the wall he'd been simmering against, "I'm going to erase his memory."

"Don't you dare," Angel got in his way, a hand on the middle of his chest, "NOT over something like this."

The Doctor looked at her for a long moment, before nodded, reaching up to take her hand off his chest, just holding it. That had been a threat made in poor taste, given everything that had happened with his own memory erasure.

"You can't erase his memory," Clara agreed, "He's my boyfriend. He's going to learn about all this eventually."

The Doctor gave her an odd look, almost incredulous, as he glanced at Danny, "Him?"

"Yes, him," Clara shook her head, not sure why he was acting so odd.

"No, he's not."

"Yes, he is," Angel told him.

"But he's a PE teacher," the Doctor turned to Angel, then back to Clara, "You wouldn't go out with a PE teacher. It's a mistake. You've made a boyfriend error."

"I am not a PE teacher," Danny ground out, sounding done with this argument, "I am a maths teacher."

"You're a soldier. Why would you go out with a soldier?"

"Why would Angel Mate with one?" Clara shot back, making the Doctor step back as though she'd struck him.

"Because I love him," Angel said, squeezing his hand.

"Exactly," Clara pointed at her, "Because I love him!" she snapped. Only for her eyes to widen as her hands flew to her mouth, realizing what she'd just said and how it had come out.

The Doctor looked at Clara, who seemed to have turned into a statue with very wide eyes, and turned to Angel, "What about the handsome one?" he asked her, not thinking he'd be getting any answer from Clara at the moment, "The one with the bowtie?"

"What, Adrian?" Danny almost shouted, angry at the thought of the woman he was dating being with anyone else.

"No, no, no," Clara seemed to snap out of it at Danny's tone, turning to him, assuring him, "He's just a friend and not my type."

Danny shook his head, "Clara, are you going to explain any of this? Who are these people?"

"They're…" Clara struggled even now, even after what Danny had seen, even after half-admitting the Doctor was sort of like her brother, that Tailor saw her as an Aunt, "They're the Doctor and Angel, and that's their daughter, Tailor."

"Hello!" Tailor waved, trying to break the tension…but it just seemed to make it worse.

"Yeah, but who are they?" Danny continued on, "Why have you never mentioned them?"

Clara looked back at the Time Lords, but not even Angel seemed to know what to say or how to get out of this, "Because they're aliens."

"Er, are you an alien?"

"No, no, no, I'm still from Blackpool. I…I call the Doctor my brother, but it's just how I see him," she assured him, "And…and Tailor's like a niece to me because of it. We…the four of us, we travel through time and space."

"Exhibit A," the Doctor moved onto a stage set up on the other end of the room to pull the curtains back and reveal the TARDIS sitting there.

"It's called a TARDIS," Angel offered, hoping this might help Clara seem a bit less mad as she could see that familiar look in Danny's eye that most people got when the Doctor was around, that the person talking was completely barmy, "Our spaceship. Disguised as an old police phone box."

"It's bigger on the inside!" Tailor added, moving over to her father's side and patting the corner of the box proudly, before leaning over to open one of the doors and show the reality of it.

"And we travel the universe in it," Clara finished.

Danny slowly approached the box, looking for all the world as though he were about to step into some sort of trap. He eyed it oddly, leaning in to look around the console room, before making the customary trip around the outside and peeking in again.

"And what about that thing?" he asked, stepping away from the box, gesturing back towards the chairs, "Did you bring that here?"

"We brought it to the empty school to send it away," Angel told him, "We were protecting you from it."

"You said it was coming back."

"Yes," the Doctor's voice grew hard, momentarily having forgotten the tension at talking about the TARDIS, at seeing his girls happy to share their remarkable box, but now, with that reminder, it was hard to look at the man that was responsible for that fact, "It is coming back, thanks to you."

"This is a school. We have to evacuate, call the Army."

"And that is the most dangerous thing right there," the Doctor scoffed, shutting the doors to the box.

"But we need to get help. This is an emergency!"

"Torchwood, as much as I love Jack, might try to confiscate the Blitzer and use its tech," Angel sighed, for as much as Yvonne's reign had ended, there were still bits of the 'if it's alien, it's ours' mentality in Torchwood. Sometimes, if it was tech that could help defend the earth, they'd be willing to try and find a way to use it first…and Torchwood did love their guns, "UNIT would be the most qualified to assist."

"Then tell them to send someone!"

"Hello," the Doctor crossed his arms as he leaned on the corner of the box.

"Dad works for UNIT," Tailor explained, "He is exactly who they'd send to deal with this."

"I don't believe this…" Danny shook his head.

"Look, take him away," the Doctor turned to Clara, feeling the passage of time even more acutely with the human having his meltdown in front of them, spouting about things that were just a waste of time, "Shut him up, shut him down. Up or down, it doesn't matter to me. We've got a lot of work to do. Again."

"Will you be ok?" Clara asked them as the small family moved to pick up the mines.

"Why wouldn't we be ok? We were fine till you two blundered in."

"Dad, it's not Aunt Clara's fault," Tailor reprimanded him.

Angel nodded, "She tried to stop him touching anything."

"Am I just being ignored?" Danny huffed.

Angel turned to Clara, "Go on Clara," she offered, "The work we've got to do, it's complicated."

Clara nodded slowly, understanding it was Angel's coded way of saying it was something exceptionally Time Lord related, some sort of tech or knowledge that one would have to be a Time Lord to understand. And she had memories of being a Time Lady, but nothing close to this…and Danny didn't need to know about the 13 lives she'd lived and was living, not yet.

She turned, moving to lead a very angry and bewildered Danny out of the room, "Come on, Danny. It's alright. Come on, it's all fine. You'll be ok. Let's er, get those legs moving. That's it, down those stairs. Yep, that's it. This can all be explained and everything will be fine."

"And when this is all over, you can finish the job," the Doctor called, just as Danny left the room but before Clara followed.

"How do you mean?" she looked back at him.

"Well, you've explained us to him. You haven't explained him to us."

Tailor rolled her eyes, "Go, Aunt Clara, WE'LL explain him to dad."

Clara gave the girl a small, strained smile, before she slipped out of the room, honestly not sure what was going to happen but hoping against hope that this was the worst it would get.

Chapter Text

Clara wasn't sure if it had been the right call to request she and Danny go to his flat instead of hers to talk. On one hand, the Doctor always had the habit of popping in whenever he wanted to. The last thing she wanted was to be speaking to Danny and have the Time Lords show up and show just how casually they appeared in her home, how close they were. But, on the other hand, it seemed like Danny had read between the lines and worked it out for himself anyway. There was no other reason for them not to go to her flat unless it was because there were things there she wanted to hide from him or didn't think he could handle yet. And it probably had something to do with the aliens.

She hadn't wanted to risk him working out even more or making assumptions or even jumping to conclusions so she'd launched into it right as soon as his door was shut. Once she started, it felt like vomit. It just kept coming out. Everything. From how she'd first met the last Doctor, the current Angel and Tailor. How Tailor had been a child then. Their adventures, the time tunnel, her other lives, meeting the family. The Doctor's regeneration, the war on Christmas, how Tailor had jumped from child to teen. The dinosaur-named-Charlotte in Victorian London, being shrunk, meeting Robin Hood, robbing a bank, all her odd adventures before their dates.

She honestly wasn't sure if she even took a breath during it. She hoped she'd made some sort of sense and hadn't just rambled at a thousand words a minute like the Doctor did.

Danny didn't look confused…he didn't look lost or like he was struggling to follow…but he still didn't look very happy either.

"Well?" she asked, wringing her hands as she stood before him, debating whether she should have called in one of the family to help her talk him through it or not, "What do you think? Say something."

Danny let out a long breath, trying to see if he really had caught everything important, "So, there's a family of aliens. One that used to be a kid. One that can see the future. And one that used to look like Adrian but then turned into a Scottish caretaker and every now and then, when I'm not looking, you elope with him."

"Them," Clara corrected, "And I don't elope…"

"Do you love him?"

Clara gave him a look, "Did you miss the part where he has a Mate?" she asked, "And not like just a friend, basically a wife, who he'd die for, HAS died for," she left out the part that she didn't doubt the Doctor would kill for his Mate and daughter if the situation pushed him enough, "That he has a daughter with that Mate?"

"Doesn't mean you can't…"

"No," Clara cut in, crossing her arms, now feeling just a bit angry that THAT was what he was focused on. That he thought there was something between her and the Doctor, "He's my brother, I told you. So yes, I do love him, but like family. The same way I love Angel and Tailor."

Danny looked away, shaking his head, trying to remind himself of that fact. He'd seen it, he'd seen the Doctor and Angel together, even before he knew they were aliens, he'd seen the couple together. He'd seen their daughter, taught a class with her. (And seriously, the way the girl had explained how 2 plus 2 COULD equal 5 when Courtney Woods was trying to be disruptive was inspired. A play on words, using the plus sign as an equivalent to 'and,' which made 2 and 2, or 22, with the 22nd letter of the alphabet being V, which was the Roman numeral for 5. Genius.) He'd seen the family, but it was just…some women had things for married men. Not all married men stayed true to their wives.

Though he could admit it was an insult to Clara to ever think her that sort of woman. And it was an insult to the Smiths too, alien though they were.

"Danny…" Clara began, moving to sit down on his sofa next to him, but giving him some space, not sure if he'd be open to her being so close at the moment, "I love YOU," she reminded him, "I know I shouted it a bit, but that doesn't make it less true."

She tried not to let on how much her heart was straining when he didn't return the sentiment.

"Why do you do it?" he asked instead, "Why do you fly off in the box with them? The truth. Please, just this once."

Clara nodded, considering her answer before just blurting out something. She'd done so much of that, blurting the first thing that came to mind instead of giving him a truthful answer, she didn't want him to keep thinking every word out of her mouth was a lie, "Because it's amazing. Because I see wonders."

"Ok."

They fell silent for a moment, before Clara couldn't take the fidgeting she was doing any longer, "What are you thinking?"

"That's a good question," he scoffed to himself, looking over at her, "It's funny, you only really know what someone thinks of you when you know what lies they've told you," he pushed himself to stand, half pacing as he spoke, "I mean, you say you've seen wonders, you've seen amazing things, and you kept them secret from me. So what do you think of me, Clara?"

Clara winced at that, standing and reaching for his hands, but he stepped back, "Please, tell me how I fix this."

"I just want to know who you are."

"You know who I am."

"When you're with them," he countered, shaking his head, "I want to know who you are when you're with those aliens."

Clara nodded, but lifted her chin slightly, "'Those aliens' are also my family in every way that matters," she reminded him, "If you care about me at all, please, just try and be nice."

"You gonna ask them the same?" Danny countered, an edge of defense to his words, as though he thought he wouldn't rank high enough in her 'family' to be given the same courtesy.

"I won't need to," she said, a sureness in her voice that reminded him she knew the aliens better than he did, "Angel and Tailor will take care of that."

Danny just looked away.

~8~

As Clara stood before the storeroom door, waiting for Danny, she couldn't help fidgeting in place. She was a ball of nerves, and for more reason than one. Not only was she going to be leading Danny face to face with 'those aliens' again, but…the Blitzer was set to return that night as well. She wasn't sure if Danny had caught Angel's words to the Doctor that they had a little less than 24 hours before the murder-bot would be back, but she wasn't going to bring it up if he missed it. It just meant that the Time Lords had a lot of work to do to get everything ready, get a new plan in place, and enact it, and a very short window to do it in. She didn't want to ask how it was, she didn't want to interrupt them during the day, trying to give them as much time as possible to work on it.

Since it was parents' evening that night, the students hadn't had school earlier that day so the Doctor hadn't had any duties to distract him.

She probably should wait till after the Blitzer was taken care of for this meeting, but if things went even worse later today…well, she hoped that this might put Danny more at ease or make him less likely to just drop her later. The worst hadn't happened yet, so there was still a chance to redeem all of it.

"You came!" Clara gave Danny a tentative smile as she saw him approaching from down the hall.

"I said I would," he countered, the implication, the unspoken 'I don't lie', wasn't lost on her.

"Ok," Clara cleared her throat, "I think we've just got time before parents' evening."

"Right, let's get this over with."

Clara frowned at his tone, not needing him to say it to know that he was expecting something to happen. He was so sure that she was a different person when she was around the Time Lords, it was like he thought she'd walk into the doors and transform into a stranger, that he was sure it would happen and wasn't exactly thrilled to see it.

"You'll see me with them," she confirmed part of his fears, leading him into the storeroom and over to where the TARDIS was now parked, "The other me. The exactly the same other me. Ok?"

Danny just gave her a blank look.

She sighed and shook her head, before turning to knock on the doors, only for them to open just as she raised her fist.

Angel was there, smiling at her, "You never need to knock, Clara," the Time Lady remarked, glancing between the two humans, "Come in, please," she said, stepping to the side, if just for Danny's sake.

"Thanks," Clara murmured as she entered the box, Danny following.

"Told you!" Tailor called from a small table near the console, where she and the Doctor were working on some sort of backpack-like thing, "Bigger on the inside!"

Danny absently nodded as he looked around at the enormous space, trying to take it in without showing how uneasy he felt about it all.

"Afternoon," the Doctor greeted, not looking up from his work soldering away as Angel moved to the console to run a scan before he could open his mouth to ask her to do it, "Thanks for keeping out of our way."

Tailor rolled her eyes, "He means thanks for giving us time to work on this first."

"And this is…" Clara moved up the stairs and over to the table, eyeing the black backpack but not sure what it was.

"Our best chance to stop the Blitzer," Angel answered, "Codes are downloading, my love," she added to the Doctor.

"You haven't brought Dave with you, I hope," the Doctor spoke to Clara.

"If you'd look up, you'd see him standing next to me, Doctor," Clara deadpanned, crossing her arms, "And his name's Danny."

"I made a promise to my Mate and daughter to be polite," the Doctor said, as though it explained everything.

"He's still cross about the Blitzer," Angel moved around the console to look at Clara, "This is his way of 'not insulting the pudding brains,'" she used air quotes for that.

"You asked him to be nice?" Clara's lip quirked into a smile, lowering her arms. She knew it.

"He's your boyfriend," Tailor spoke up, "Of course we asked him to be nice, he's important to you Aunt Clara."

"Have you explained?" the Doctor called.

"Yeah, er, I explained it all to him," Clara nodded, glancing over at Danny who was being a little too quiet, the man moving to walk around the console, eyeing it as though it were a beartrap about to latch onto his limb, "He gets it. He took it really well."

The Doctor snorted, not needing the faint niggle in his mind that was Angel knowing Clara wasn't being entirely truthful to know that the girl was lying through her teeth, "Pass me that synestic."

"Zig-zag plotter," Angel said, causing Clara to look over at her as Tailor moved to pass the object to her father. She could see the Time Lady had moved beside Danny, gesturing at one of the controls of the console, "Astrolabe," she pointed to another object, "Brakes…"

"I…um…" Danny struggled to find words for a moment, honestly not expecting the woman to talk to him, much less try to explain her 'spaceship' to him, "It's fine…I…I don't really care."

Angel, contrary to the glare the Doctor shot the man and the harrumph-like hum the TARDIS gave, just smiled and nodded, "Piloting isn't for everyone," she said simply, "Isn't that right, my love?"

"Oh, ha, ha," the Doctor huffed, rolling his eyes at the tiny jab at his own piloting abilities.

"Dad's great at teaching me how to pilot," Tailor defended her father.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"He's shown me loads of what NOT to do."

"Oh, what is this, pick on the Doctor day?" the Doctor asked, sounding more fondly-exasperated than angry.

Clara gave Tailor and Angel a small odd look, the two Time Ladies were sending conspiratorial looks at each other. It wasn't till Angel winked at her from behind Danny's back that she realized they were trying to put the man at ease by showing them just being normal.

…well, as normal as Time Lord aliens could be.

And now it was time for HER to show Danny she could be normal around them too, even when talking about alien things, "So, when the Blitzer comes back," she began cautiously, wanting to show Danny it wasn't all about her diving into adventures, but being responsible too, "Are you going to catch him with that?"

"The best way to deal with the Blitzer," the Doctor agreed, "But it's going to take at least twenty four hours even with my girls helping," he jerked back slightly as the pack sparked.

"It's going to be close," Angel warned her.

"But if anyone can do it, it'll be dad," Tailor smiled, earning one from her father as well for her faith in him.

"And once that's all sorted, we can go somewhere fun," the Doctor finally glanced up from his work, handing the solder to Tailor to work on her side of the pack, "What do you say?" he turned to Clara, doing his best to ignore the other human in the room, "Do you want to see the Thames frozen over? Oh, those frost fairs."

"They were lovely last time," Angel smiled.

"I still can't believe you got Stevie Wonder to sing," Tailor snorted.

And, just like that, the Doctor's smile faded entirely, recalling exactly who ELSE had been there. The damned River Song. It had been just after they'd lost the Ponds to the Weeping Angels. Angel had felt wretched that they'd 'stolen' River's parents from her, to the point where she'd somehow managed to talk him into breaking the woman out of Stormcage on her birthday to go to the Frost Fairs, something Rory had always wanted to see but they hadn't been able to get to before everything fell apart.

"You know what, who needs to see that again?" the Doctor huffed.

Angel laughed, moving over to his side to put a hand on his shoulder, sliding it up his neck to his hair, brushing a hand through it, "Thank you," she told him softly.

She knew he loathed River, but the fact he'd agreed, had gone on the trip, allowed it, meant the world to her.

"Anything for you," he gave her an equally soft smile, tugging her to sit on his lap with a laugh.

Clara smiled at Angel for her efforts. Never let it be said that the Time Lady didn't know how to calm her Mate down. He'd gone from tense the second Danny entered, to smiling softly at his family in just a few minutes. Now if they could just keep him calm and not insulting, Danny should be the same. And really, it should go better than she was fearing. She was there to show Danny that she was the same person he'd always known, but she was realizing now that it wasn't just showing Danny herself but showing him the Time Lords too. Angel was doing an outstanding job showing Danny that they weren't just 'aliens' but people too, with lives and families and soft spots.

"Will you come too, Aunt Clara?" Tailor asked.

"You're more than welcome to join us, Mr. Pink," Angel offered, noting how the man tensed at Tailor's question.

"And if he won't, we can get you back straightaway," the Doctor added, jumping in too quickly for Danny to answer, "Like we always do on your dates. Just make sure you don't get yourself a tan or anything, or lose a limb."

"You really think you're being clever don't you?" Danny gave the Doctor a hard look at the implications. Clara had already told him about the most recent string of adventures and how it had caused the tan and the seaweed and the way she'd nearly keeled over after their short jog.

"Actually, I think I'm being a Time Lord," he countered, "We're naturally clever."

"Oh ho, ho," Danny scoffed, "Time Lord? Might have known."

"Might have known what?" both the Doctor and Tailor spoke, genuinely seeming confused as to what their species had to do with anything.

"Well, the accent's good, but you can always spot the aristocracy. It's in the…the attitude."

"Danny…" Clara frowned at him.

"Now, Time Lords, do you salute those?"

"Definitely not," the Doctor spoke, tightening his arms around Angel and trying his level best not to react as he wanted to.

He had promised his girls he would behave, that he would 'be kind' to this Danny Pink. Apparently he was Clara's boyfriend and important to her and she loved him and, as her brother, he should be supportive and polite. But weren't brothers supposed to watch out for their sisters? Make sure their partners were good enough for them? How was that supposed to work when he had to be nice?

"Ah, Sir!" Danny snapped, jumping to a salute.

The Doctor was on his feet in an instant, feeling a flash of anger and fear from Angel. He didn't need to ask her why she felt it, he just needed to know she felt it in the first place before he would be there to defend her, moving her somewhat behind him as he faced down this impudent human, "You do not call me sir."

"As you wish, sir. Absolutely, sir."

Angel moved a hand to her left heart, feeling an odd string of emotions warring in there, hurt, fear, anger, and a desperation to protect that…that she was sure wasn't coming from her…but neither was it the Doctor.

"Hey!" Tailor stood, a frown on her face, "No shouting at my dad."

"Oh, yes ma'am!" Danny snapped, though he remained rigid at a salute with his gaze on the Doctor despite speaking to his daughter.

The Doctor did NOT appreciate that tone aimed at his child, "And you can get out of our TARDIS."

"Immediately, sir."

"Doctor, this is stupid," Clara cut in, trying to get between the two men, looking between him and Danny, warning them both, "This is unfair."

Angel swallowed hard, feeling tears welling in her eyes at Clara's words, knowing she was speaking to both men, and…for some reason that was just making her feel even more hurt, more alarmed and worried…

"One thing, Clara," Danny scoffed moving out of his salute to face her, his expression hard, "I'm a soldier, guilty as charged. You see him? He's an officer."

"He is NOT," Tailor defended, the same time the Doctor shouted, "I am not an officer!"

"I'm the one who carries you out of the fire. He's the one who lights it."

Angel winced, feeling the breath leave her, hearing that. There was so much pain, such a familiar pain, such a deep fear and desperation for safety…

"Out!" the Doctor growled, seeing Angel out of the corner of his eye growing more upset and not ever wanting her to feel that in their home, not when he could help it, "Now!"

"Right away, sir," Danny saluted once more, glaring at him, "Straight now?"

Angel looked over at Danny, her heart pounding, before glancing at the others and back to him…couldn't they see it?

"Yes."

"Am I dismissed?"

"Yes, you are!" the Doctor snapped, his hands clenching into fists as he felt a deepening sorrow and grief rising in his Mate.

"That's him," Danny turned, pointing at the Doctor as he spoke to Clara, "Look at him, right now. That's who..."

Danny's tirade was abruptly cut off by what could only be the oddest thing the Doctor, Tailor, or Clara had ever witnessed...

Angel had lunged forward to hug him.

Danny seemed completely and utterly stunned by the turn of events, thrown off so much he didn't seem to know what to do. Clara was sure, had the situation not been so tense only moments ago, she would have found the fact that Danny was standing there stock still with his arms in the air and his eyes wild to be quite humorous.

"Is…is this an attack?" Danny asked, though it was clear his question was directed at Clara, "Am I being attacked right now? Is this how they fight?"

Clara could only shake her head, truly at a loss for words and not having a clue what was going on either.

"Um...mum?" Tailor tried for words, but she honestly was as thrown as Danny was. Of all the reactions from her parents, she had not anticipated something like this, not even from her mother.

"Angel, what are you doing?" the Doctor had to ask, befuddled. This was NOT what he thought would happen do after the maelstrom of emotion he'd felt from her only moments ago.

But Angel ignored both for the moment, slowly pulling away from Danny until her hands were resting on his shoulders, smiling at him with tears in her eyes, "Thank you," she spoke quietly to him, sounding grateful which only served to confuse the others even more.

"Uh...for...for what?" Danny shook his head, still standing in his same frozen position, still not fully sure this wasn't some sort of alien attack.

"For getting so upset."

Clara blinked, shaking her head, "Hold on...you're HAPPY he just shouted at you?"

For a brief moment, she wondered if Angel's 9th self had somehow resurfaced, the naive girl who didn't really understand human ways. Not many people would be happy to be yelled at the way Danny had been.

Angel let out a tearful laugh and turned to face them, keeping one hand on Danny's shoulder, "Can't you feel it?" she asked them, "Don't you see why he's shouting?"

"We're not all like you, mum," Tailor reminded her.

"It's not about really feeling it," Angel shook her head, her gaze turning to the Doctor, "YOU, of all people, should understand my love."

But the Doctor was just frowning, his brows furrowed into one long caterpillar across his forehead, "I'm not sure I do."

Angel let her hand fall from Danny's shoulders, the confused man slowly lowering his arms though his attention was on Angel as she spoke to her Mate, "What are you like when I'm in danger?"

It took Tailor only a single moment to grasp what was said, her eyes widening, hands flying to her mouth as she gasped, "No!" she breathed, though she sounded pleased, which only served to confused Clara and the Doctor more.

"Still not following," the Doctor shook his head.

Angel gave him an amused and fond smile, before turning to Clara, "Clara, what is the Doctor like when I'm in danger?"

"Right insufferable," Clara answered, "Grouchy. Inconsiderate. Callous..."

"Shouty," Angel cut in, "Single-minded, driven to extremes to see me safe. Now WHY is he like that?"

"Because he loves you!" Tailor shouted, actually throwing her hand in the air as though waiting to be called on in class, bouncing on her toes she was vibrating so much with the excitement of working it out.

"What's that got to do with anything?" the Doctor asked.

Angel let out a sigh, turning to Danny instead, "Thank you," she repeated, "For caring about Clara as much as you do."

Danny seemed stunned, as did Clara (who was now starting to make the connection between what Angel and Tailor had said and how it related to Danny), the Doctor still seemed confused though.

Angel reached out to take one of Danny's hands, "You wouldn't be yelling so much or so loudly if you didn't truly care about her and fear for her. And because of that I know you would do anything to keep her safe. So thank you, because now I know she'll be safe here on Earth. When we can't be with her to watch out for her, YOU will."

"Always," Danny murmured, "Yeah."

Angel smiled, squeezing his hand, "I know you're afraid for her, when she travels with us, as you should be. It IS dangerous..." Danny seemed about to latch onto that and pick up his earlier tirade, but Angel continued on, "As is living on Earth," that seemed to startle Danny for the moment, "You could trip over a rug on the stairs and fall," she couldn't help but think of poor Mickey's gran, "Or cross the road without looking out for cars," and poor Pete Tyler, "There are so many dangers and you've no idea how much I worry for Clara, for all of our family," she finished, "So really, thank you, it means the world to me to know she's got you looking after her."

Danny slowly started nodding, "Seems a bit more dangerous in your neck of the woods though," he said, more calmly than Clara thought he would given how he'd blown up before.

"And we do our best to look out for each other," Angel spoke, agreeing without outright saying it, "How about we pop off to the lounge for a nice cuppa and I can tell you some of the ways we do that?"

Danny let out a breath, feeling like something had unclenched around his heart at hearing there were actually a number of ways that they tried to keep Clara safe, and then feeling a well of guilt rise in him for how he'd acted only moments ago. It was just...hard. He cared about Clara SO much, he...he really felt like he might love her, and to see her in such a dangerous situation? To hear about all the other times she'd done the same? Part of him had been furious with her for putting herself in such a scene, but another part was equally mad at himself for not being there to protect her. HE was a soldier, meant to guard and protect and fight for safety, and he'd been useless. Angel...he realized it now, SHE had kept them all safe and if she did that in this one instance, maybe there were more of them.

He'd let his fear and anger get the better of him and he'd shouted at a woman, something he was disappointed in himself for. But...as strange as it was...Angel had seen right through it to the heart of him and seen WHY. He'd made it seem like he had a problem with the Doctor being bossy when really it was his fear that the man didn't care enough about Clara to keep her safe, and he'd yelled at two women in the middle of it. And here was one of them thanking him for it? Angel had hugged him and thanked him for caring enough about Clara to reach that point of yelling and standing up to THEM for the girl. He should have handled it better, given them time to really talk because in just mere minutes, Angel had turned all his emotions on their heads. That Doctor bloke might be an officer through and through, but this woman...she was certainly anything but. She, at least, wasn't anything like he expected.

And so...he nodded.

"Well, then," she beamed at him, such a contagious smile he couldn't help the quirk of his lips, "Come along, Mr. Pink."

Clara, Tailor, and the Doctor could only watch, stunned, as Angel and Danny left the TARDIS, Angel's arm linked through the crook of Danny's elbow.

"...what just happened?" Clara could only blink at the turn of events.

"I've no idea," the Doctor mumbled, rubbing the side of his face in confusion.

Tailor just giggled and dashed off after the duo, leave it to her mum to win the man over, or at least start to.

The Doctor and Clara glanced at each other, before moving to follow the young Time Lady, stepping out of the TARDIS just after Tailor left the storeroom, just as the infamous Courtney Woods entered.

"Why is she here?" the Doctor muttered to Clara with a frown.

"Parents' evening," Clara hissed back, some parents brought their children to it.

"What's in the box?" Courtney eyed it oddly, "It's not really a policeman, is it?"

"You want to know what's in that box?" he huffed, wanting to get out of the room and find his Mate, but the reminder of the parents' evening brought his mind back to the Blitzer that was likely imminent to arrive within hours. He needed to get that pack done. There wasn't much left to do, but it still had to be done and the sooner he could get back into the box, the sooner it would happen, "I'll tell you what's in that box. It's a time machine. It also travels in space. And it usually contains a man who just wants to get on with his work of preventing the end of the world, but keeps being interrupted by boring little humans."

"Oi!" Clara glared at him.

But Courtney just laughed, "Cool. So, that's really a spaceship?"

The Doctor reached out as the girl tried to dash past him and check on the inside of the box, grabbing her by the collar of her jacket and tugging her back, "I'm serious. I'm trying to save this planet."

Clara had to snort at the parallel in his statement to what was going on with his Mate. HE was trying to save the planet, and Angel was trying to save her world. Not that her world revolved around Danny, but the part of her world that was normal and human and on Earth, Danny represented a large part of that.

"End of the world for me tonight, whatever you do," Courtney sighed, "Parents' evening."

"Is your name really Disruptive Influence?"

"It's Courtney," Clara answered, "And you should be off with your parents right now," she gave the girl a look, subtly telling her to get out of the storeroom.

"Can I go in space first?" the girl looked at her with wide eyes.

"If your parents don't ground you after tonight," Clara compromised instead, moving forward to usher the girl out, "Now, come on, he's got work to do saving the world."

The Doctor let out a long breath, glancing between the door and the TARDIS, "Two hours," he muttered, Angel had warned that the Blitzer would be there in that time, he hadn't thought it prudent to bring it up around Clara or the other one, but that wouldn't stop it coming. He could only hope they'd be busy with the parents and the plan he and Tailor had created would keep them unawares of the danger till it was over, "I can do it," he took a breath and moved into the TARDIS to work.

~8~

Clara hesitantly tried to approach Danny as she found him in the gymnasium where the other teachers were setting up tables in preparation for the night. She'd wanted to barge into the teachers' lounge and see what Angel was saying to Danny…but Tailor had stopped her. The girl had offered her an apologetic smile and told her the door was locked and she was neither her mother, with Vortex abilities, nor her father, with a sonic, to open it. So the two had wandered back to the TARDIS, Tailor helping her father with the pack while she sat in one of the chairs, fretting, before she had to make her way back to the gym for parents' evening. She may have tried to swing by the lounge once more, but the door was unlocked and open and no one was there. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. It felt like no time at all had passed but she knew it had been almost two hours since Angel had pulled Danny out of the room. Was it good or bad that it had taken all that time for Angel to speak to him? Was she even finished or had they had to cut it short for parents' evening?

"Right, are we quorate?" Armitage was calling out, gathering the teachers to him, preventing Clara from getting a word in to Danny, "Time to admit the hordes," he moved to the doors, glancing through the glass panels and sighing, "And look who's at the front of the queue."

"Who are they?" Adrian asked.

"Courtney Woods' mum and dad," Clara answered, recognizing them from numerous chats she'd already had, having had to call them in to discuss Courtney's behavior. She glanced at Danny, knowing he, too, had had chats with them, but the man was silent. He didn't look upset, or put off, or angry…but he also didn't look overjoyed or like he wanted to just sweep her into his arms and shout his love for her either…

Angel had, sadly, not worked as much a miracle as she had exceedingly hoped.

Adrian shifted, having put off calling the parents for Courtney as he knew many other teachers already had and it must not be great for them to be in such a position, "Can someone else do them first?"

"No problem, Ade," Danny finally spoke, nodding to himself, "I can cope with anything tonight."

Clara wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad thing…what had Angel said to him?

"Oh, happy days," Armitage took a deep breath and opened the doors to let the parents in.

~8~

Angel, who had been watching the hordes of parents entering the gymnasium, feeling like there was something she should wait there for…slowly began to frown from where a soft smile had once been on her face. She turned slowly, looking over her shoulder towards where the auditorium was, seeing in her mind the swirling time vortex reopening and throwing a chair out of it. Her eyes widened, knowing what would follow shortly after, before she disappeared in a flash of gold, a shout of 'Doctor!' in her mind…

She left so quickly and suddenly, she didn't see a woman with brown hair watching her go, before pulling out a stick of lipstick from her purse and rushing down the halls…

~8~

If it hadn't been for the bond he shared with his Mate, the Doctor was quite sure he would have jumped a mile out of his skin when Angel appeared in a flash of gold before him and Tailor in the TARDIS, calling out, "The Blitzer's coming," a split second before the alarms in the box began to go off, the scanners having picked up on the return of the time vortex.

The Doctor grimaced, "Tailor," he turned to his daughter.

She nodded, understanding, they still had a few more things to do on the pack, they needed to finish it, but they also needed to be out there distracting the Blitzer till it was done, "I can do it," she promised them, focusing on the pack as her mother reached out and took her father's hand, the two disappearing in a flash of gold.

~8~

Danny offered a strained smile at the Woods, trying very hard to focus on the situation and not the lengthy conversation he'd had with Angel before. There was…so much to process, and it wasn't fair to the Woods to not listen to their concerns about their daughter.

"I would say yes," he cut in, "I'm afraid Courtney IS a disruptive influence."

"Yeah, but last year you said she was a very disruptive influence," Mr. Woods tried to find the silver lining.

"So, I suppose that counts as an improvement?" Mrs. Woods looked so hopeful he wasn't sure how to respond.

He tried to find the words…when he saw a flash of gold through the doors, in the hallway, and the Doctor and Angel appear. He let out a loud cough, earning Clara's attention and directing her gaze to the door where they could see the two Time Lords rushing off.

"Excuse me," he heard Clara say, "I think the caretaker wants me," she offered to the parents she was speaking with, before getting up and hurrying away.

He frowned, glancing at the Woods, before taking a breath, "Sorry, Mr. Woods, Mrs. Woods, I think the caretaker wants me too."

He hurriedly got up and moved after Clara, hearing Armitage reassuring the parents that they'd be back in a moment as they went.

"Danny, what are you doing?" Clara hissed to him as they got through the doors, running in the direction they'd seen the Time Lords go.

But Danny was silent.

Clara shook her head, not about to ask again, and instead focusing on what might be a serious danger they were about to run into, "Doctor!" she called out, seeing him and Angel pausing at a corner ahead, up from the auditorium, "Angel! What's happening?'

"Clara, what are you doing?" the Doctor spun to face them.

"You should be at parents' evening," Angel reminded them both.

Clara shook her head, "What's happening?" she repeated, more firmly.

The Time Lords looked at each other before the Doctor sighed, knowing they didn't have time to argue with her, "The vortex is opening."

"What?!" Danny gaped.

"The second the Blitzer comes through it's going to scan the area," the Doctor warned, "If it gets to parents' evening, it'll kill them all."

"We've got to evacuate!"

"Shut up!"

"It will sense any large movement and head for it," Angel shook her head, "It's another reason why we went after it invisible."

"Then what do we do?" Clara asked

The Doctor just held up the sonic, "We get to the hall and use this to lure it off."

Clara frowned, "You can't," she reminded him, "It scanned you and Angel, it'll kill you on sight you said!" she shook her head, "I can do it."

"No," Angel shook her head, "You were in the room too, it scanned everyone."

"Think, think, think," the Doctor hit his head, trying to come up with some way to do it without endangering everyone. Oh why couldn't the pudding brain just have left well enough alone!? If they could just find someone, one person the Blitzer hadn't scanned, they would be fine.

Angel blinked, hearing his thoughts, when a slow smile came to her face, "There might be a way…"

"What?" the Doctor looked at her.

But it was a voice behind them that spoke instead, "Maybe I can help?"

The Doctor froze at the sound of the voice, the familiarity, and slowly turned to see none other than Sarah Jane Smith standing there, her arms crossed, sonic lipstick in her hand, open and ready, a grin growing on her face.

"Miss Smith!" Danny spoke quickly, looking from the Time Lords to Skye Smith's mother, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an explanation, feeling as though he was getting a taste of what Clara had been doing for weeks on end, "We were just…"

"Sarah Jane?" the Doctor cut in, not seeming to notice he'd interrupted.

Danny did a double take at the fact that the Doctor knew her name.

The woman beamed, "Look at you!" she laughed, "You've got eyebrows!"

"Oh, funny, isn't that so funny," he huffed, rolling his eyes, but he opened his arms for a hug as Sarah Jane threw herself into the now-rare embrace. It wasn't just any human, it was Sarah Jane!

"Oh, Angel!" the woman cheered, quickly moving to hug the Time Lady as well, "Oh, you haven't changed, thank goodness. I don't think I could handle the both of you."

"Hello Sarah Jane," Angel smiled.

"What are you doing here?" the Doctor asked.

"Never mind that," Sarah Jane brushed it off, "What's this I hear about a Blitzer?" she asked, pulling away, getting right to business, "Doesn't sound friendly."

"It isn't," the Doctor agreed.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Sonic," the Doctor began quickly, handing her his own sonic, wanting to be sure she'd have a way to defend herself with her own if anything happened, "Give it some squirts of helicon energy, setting number 41. No more than three seconds each, random pulses. Distract it."

"Where should I lead it?" Sarah Jane asked, nodding along, keeping up with his rapid speaking so well Danny wasn't sure what was going on.

"The storeroom," Angel spoke, "He and Tailor will need two more minutes and then we…" she held up a finger as the Doctor opened his mouth to argue that she was NOT going to face the Blitzer, "Will lead it right to the TARDIS."

"Angel…" Sarah Jane frowned. She'd heard enough as she'd approached to know that this Blitzer was dangerous and already knew Angel enough that it would attack her.

"Either we go together or no one goes," Angel shook her head, "It should be more focused on the sonic as a 'weapon' and not me, unless I use the Vortex. Which I would only do to get us away in the worst case."

"It could kill you…" Danny, surprisingly, was the one who spoke, recalling how it had been said the Blitzer would blow itself up if the girl tried to use her power on it.

She looked over at him, "Would that stop you?" she asked, so simply that Danny could only look at her like he was seeing her for the first time. Angel gave him a small smile and turned to the Doctor, "Or you?" she added, stopping any argument he was going to make.

"Angel…" the Doctor reached out to take her hand, squeezing it, knowing she could feel how much the Mating instinct was kicking in, pulsing in him with a need to keep his Mate safe. He was fighting it, knowing that Sarah Jane's life could be on the line and there was no one he trusted more (than himself) to be with the woman and keep her safe than Angel. But it wasn't easy to LET her go into danger without him beside her to protect her.

Angel lifted the hand holding hers to press a kiss to his scarred knuckles, "We'll be fine," she promised.

"Smith and Jones," Sarah Jane agreed, "No better team."

Angel nodded, "You'll have two minutes, my love."

He swallowed hard, squeezing her hand again, and nodding, trusting her like she always did him.

"Ooh, it's been a while since I've been the decoy," Sarah Jane remarked.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?" Clara looked between the Time Lords and Sarah Jane, knowing Angel had the advantage even with the Vortex, knowing the woman would stay far enough away to not be noticed by the Blitzer, not wanting to endanger Sarah Jane, but close enough to get the woman out if there was danger. She was cursing herself for rushing in when she and Danny had, she would have never been scanned. Sarah Jane was safe because it would follow the sonic and not immediately notice Sarah Jane as a threat. If SHE had been the one going, she was sure it would have fired at her for being a threat and holding a weapon, instead of trying to scan what weapon it was.

"Or me?" Danny offered, shifting uncomfortably at the thought of the two women, one of them his student's parent, running into danger and him being forced to stay behind.

The Doctor looked between the two humans, glancing at Angel as she nodded before rushing off with Sarah Jane, "Yes," he decided, hearing something slightly different in Danny's tone...the human wasn't seeing Angel as another officer or an alien or an aristocrat, but someone risking her life to protect other people and someone who deserved protection and help in return, that was enough for him, "Come on."

~8~

Angel and Sarah Jane came to a stop just outside the auditorium, looking through the window at the vortex within, moments before it dropped the Blitzer onto the ground.

"Disrupt temporal lock," they could hear it through the door, "Disengaged. Scan."

"Ready?" Angel looked at her.

Sarah Jane laughed, "Just like old times," she held up the Doctor's sonic and flicked it on.

"Incoming, stop. Identified: Helicon," the voice of the Blitzer grew closer, "Helicon. Commence: retargeting."

"Come on," Angel took Sarah Jane's hand, the two running down the hall and around the corner to set off the next burst as the Blitzer followed.

"Target acquired. Destroy."

They ran through the doors to the playground, taking the shortest route to the storeroom, but also the one that would keep it the farthest from the parents, sending off bursts of the energy.

"Target within range. Problem solution: destroy."

"Almost there," Angel reassured Sarah Jane as they ran through another set of doors, sending a warning to the Doctor in her mind, nodding to herself at his response, "They're ready."

She had never been more thankful for her sensations before. Knowing the Blitzer was coming in less than 24 hours, they had all been working as quickly as possible to get the pack ready. She was sure, if they'd thought the Blitzer was going to return when the Doctor initially thought, they'd probably have taken more time and been scrambling, maybe even forgot to transfer the command codes into the backpack too.

But now…now they were prepared.

They burst through the doors of the storeroom, the Blitzer repeating, "Destroy. Destroy," behind them.

"Doctor!" Sarah Jane called out, quickly dashing to the side of the door and out of the way, moving along the wall, seeing Tailor before them, in front of the doors to the TARDIS, helping her father put some sort of black pack on his back, "It's coming."

"20 more seconds," he mumbled, struggling to input a code into a device in his hand.

"Destroy!" the Blitzer called as it entered.

"Now!" Clara shouted from one side of the room, Danny on the side Sarah Jane had ended up on as the two began to hurl objects at the creature, each lobbing something as it turned to the other, keeping it from attacking. A tiny laser fired near the Blitzer as well, stinging it, as MK9 trundled over, defending his Mistress

"Am I green?" the Doctor asked as Angel ran over to help secure the pack to him, knowing she couldn't risk using the Vortex as a shield lest it trigger the Blitzer to explode, "Am I green?"

"Green," she confirmed.

The Doctor quickly lifted the device to his mouth, speaking into it like a microphone, his voice slightly distorted as it resonated from some sort of speaker in the pack, "Stop!" he ordered, "Skovox Blitzer!"

The strange group held their breath, waiting to see what would happen, releasing it only when the Blitzer halted, turning to the Doctor.

"Awaiting orders."

Clara nearly sagged with relief, moving towards the Time Lords with caution, not wanting to set it off.

"Superior Skovox Artificer," the Doctor continued, "Analyze: stop. Analyze: stop."

"Superior recognized," the Blitzer agreed, "Pattern 110: orders. Orders."

"Why's it listening to him?" Clara whispered to Tailor as she reached the girl, standing half behind Angel.

"Dad and I programmed the pack to copy the codes from a superior officer," the girl answered, "A rough job, but it looks like it's working…"

"Affirmative!" MK9 agreed, scanning the Blitzer as it stopped.

Sarah Jane let out a little laugh as she heard, as she realized, "It thinks the Doctor's its general. Brilliant."

"Initiate input," the Doctor took a step towards the Blitzer, not caring how closely Danny was watching, or how much he sounded like an officer as the man kept accusing, right now needs must, "Commence shutdown protocol. No conflict…" he glanced at Angel hearing her warning in his mind about the input codes she'd downloaded in the TARDIS earlier, and nodded, quickly tapping the final input code to shut it down, "Confirm stop. Override final input code. Conclusion?"

It was a long moment before the Blitzer lowered its weapons completely, "Code accepted. Orders accepted. Stop. Stop. Stop…" slowly but surely the words grew softer and more slurred as the machine finally powered down.

"Mission accomplished!" MK9 announced.

"Oh, yes!" Sarah Jane cheered.

"Oh, my god," Clara breathed.

"That was amazing!" Tailor beamed, turning to hug Clara.

Sarah Jane smiled as she watched the Time Lords cheering and hugging after the defeat of the Blitzer, glancing over at Danny Pink who was watching with a furrowed brow but his body language radiated thoughtfulness, "It's never easy to watch them do this," she commented, "Watching people you care about throw themselves into danger," she watched him closely as he nodded, though his gaze was on Clara. It didn't take a genius to work out that the man cared a great deal for her, she wanted to make sure he realized that it wasn't JUST Clara in danger, that SHE wasn't the only one worth caring about. While he feared for Clara, Sarah Jane Smith and the rest of the family feared for the Time Lords as well. Clara wasn't the only one in danger. Sometimes...sometimes the Time Lords were in even more, because they had regenerations to help them and it made them a little more willing to risk their lives at times, especially if it meant keeping Clara safe. She took a breath and continued carefully, having been around people just learning about the madness that was the Doctor's life she could see the man was very on edge about all this, "They put themselves in more danger than anyone I've ever known, and I know Torchwood and UNIT. But you know why they do it?"

Danny shook his head.

Sarah Jane just nodded over at where Tailor was high-fiving Clara, "For their daughter," she told him, "For MY daughter. For Skye, for Clara, for you, for all the teachers and all the students in this building. And more. They do this so that other people won't have to, so they won't be in danger if THEY handle it first. Sound familiar, soldier?"

Danny glanced at her sharply, seeming about to ask her how she knew his past, when he remembered Skye was in his classes and all the students knew he was a 'squaddie' as they were so fond of calling him. He let out a long sigh though, "I still don't like that they brought the danger so close to the students."

"Ah, but THEY brought it," Sarah Jane remarked, a tone of complete assuredness in her voice that spoke of a total faith in the aliens, "Which means they had a plan to never let it near the others. Believe me, Mr. Pink, if they weren't sure they could handle it, if there was even a hint that someone besides them could get hurt, including Clara, they would have brought it somewhere else. Children are an especially soft spot for them, they would do anything to keep them safe. It didn't seem like they had much choice in it coming back this time."

Danny flinched at the unintentional reminder of the role he'd played in that. Even if Sarah Jane hadn't been around when it happened, he knew the woman was an investigative journalist, she was good at observing.

"I have to admit though, the Doctor's gotten much better since he's met Angel, since they found Tailor," she glanced at Danny, "He's helped and saved more people than ever because of Angel and her gifts, she's got her own army now."

Danny frowned as he looked at her.

She laughed, "No, no, not like that. Sorry, it's...sort of a family joke," she felt so light that they could all joke about that awful time now, now that Angel and Tailor were safe again, "Speaking of," a thought struck her. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out her business card, then a pen and scribbled some numbers on the back of it, "Here."

He looked down, seeing numbers next to names for a Martha, Donna, and Jack, and gave her a questioning look.

"The family," she repeated, "All of us, past companions of the Doctor. We meet up for holidays," she smiled, "But, if you have any questions, about the Doctor, about the travelling or the danger, give any of us a call. We don't often get to talk about what we've seen, but it might help to get a few other perspectives."

Danny was silent a moment, "You're all past companions, what Clara is now."

"Yes."

"And you're all..." he didn't seem to know how to finish.

But Sarah Jane knew, and nodded, "We're all still alive and well, not all of us in the same time period, but fine in the end. Better than we were for having known them."

Danny considered it a long while, before he put the card into his pocket.

Sarah Jane smiled.

A moment later she let out a laugh, "Come on," she reached out to tug on his arm, half dragging him with her.

"What?"

"There's a hug going on," she remarked, and he noticed that the Time Lords had merged together with Clara in a group hug, "And if I know Angel..." not even a second later, Angel's hand was sticking out of the group towards Sarah Jane, a crack opening in it, which earned a hearty laugh from the woman.

"I don't think I'll..."

"Clara's vouched for you," Sarah Jane told him quickly as they neared, not wanting to bring up that it was Skye who had told her who 'Ozzie' loved, "Which means you're as good as an honorary family member, for the moment. And Angel never excludes anyone from a group hug."

"Oh really," the Doctor huffed as the two joined in, though Danny stayed wedged between Sarah Jane and Clara, far away from the Doctor, "I'm NOT a huggy person."

"Still don't get a say in that, Doctor," Clara teased, just taking this moment to enjoy a job well done, everyone safe and sound, and having Danny beside her.

"Honorary family member?" Angel whispered to Sarah Jane, low enough that only she could hear.

"Well I didn't want to assume another title," the woman winked at her.

Angel shook her head, knowing exactly which title Sarah Jane was thinking of, it was one she was considering as well...

She HAD asked the Doctor what would happen if her next companion was a soldier.

And Danny did NOT carry a gun anymore...

Time would tell.

With that in mind, Angel looked over at Danny as the hug came to an end, "You alright?"

Danny gave a stiff nod, but an answer nonetheless.

"Something you'd like to say to him, Doctor?" Clara turned to the Time Lord, standing there with his arm around Angel's shoulders, seeming far more relaxed and in better spirits now that the Blitzer had been dealt with.

"Yeah," his expression grew harder as he turned to Danny, "Next time don't touch things if you don't know what they are."

"Doctor," Clara sighed, "A thank you for helping would be nice."

"It's fine," Danny cut in, "He doesn't need to thank me. He doesn't even need to like me. I just need to do exactly one thing for him. Don't I Doctor?"

The Doctor glanced at Angel, it had taken him a while, but he was starting to understand why she'd been happy about Danny's yelling. And he couldn't lie and say he didn't feel the same. Not about the yelling, but about WHY it happened, "Yes."

"What?" Clara frowned, looking between the two men, a little more confused when Tailor started to smile and moved to put her arm around her father's waist in a hug, "What one thing?"

"I need to be good enough for you," Danny said, turning to Clara, "That's why he's angry. Just in case I'm not," he hesitated a moment, glancing at Angel and her soft smile and back, "That's what brother do for their sisters."

Clara began to smile at that, hearing not quite a full acceptance in Danny's voice but an acknowledgement.

"Well, as far as approval goes," Sarah Jane spoke up, "He DID just help save the world."

"Oh who says the world was in danger?" the Doctor scoffed.

"You're here," Clara and Sarah Jane said as one.

Sarah Jane chuckled, "You have to admit, Doctor, when you get involved the world usually IS in danger."

"Speaking of worlds," Angel looked over at Clara and Danny, "There's a young girl who's quite afraid her world's about to end tonight…"

"Oh my god, Courtney!" Clara gasped a moment later, "Parents' evening!"

She quickly turned and hustled Danny out of the room, both to get them back to their jobs but also so as not to risk the Doctor insulting him again.

Sarah Jane laughed, "I should go as well," she remarked, "Skye goes here now."

"Ah," the Doctor nodded, understanding now how and why Sarah Jane Smith had shown up in the school.

"I will expect a visit from you lot," Sarah Jane pointed a warning finger at them, a pleasant feeling welling inside her. It was…nice, to be able to have some sort of odd adventure and danger with the Time Lords and NOT feel that aching sorrow when it ended, to just reminisce but feel fond afterwards. She'd come, she'd saved the world, and she could go home to her daughter and son without regretting having to say goodbye to the aliens.

"Of course," Tailor promised for her parents, though they all crossed their hearts to seal it.

Sarah Jane shook her head and headed out the door…right as Courtney entered, the poor girl looking gloomy as anything.

And a sad child would never do.

~8~

Tailor kept an eye on both Courtney, who was leaning out the doors of the TARDIS as it floated in space, and the Blitzer they'd just cast adrift. Her parents were behind her, keeping the old girl steady in the micro-meteorite shower they'd appeared in the middle of.

"Farewell, Skovox Blitzer," she could hear her father call out, "Have a nice war. So," he moved to the doors behind them, trusting Angel's piloting, "Courtney Woods, impressed yet?"

"Actually," the girl spoke, softer than they'd ever heard, gripping the doorway for dear life and looking rather pale, "I'm feeling a bit ill."

"Oh, come here, sweetheart," Angel moved away from the console, gesturing Courtney to come away from the door and over to her, sitting her down on one of the comfy chairs.

"It can be a bit overwhelming," the Doctor nodded to himself as Courtney walked off, grinning at his daughter though when he turned back, "Look! The Olveron Cluster. A million stars, a hundred million inhabited planets."

"Can we go there next?" Tailor smiled at her father, "AFTER we stop by Aunt Sarah's?"

The Doctor nodded, turning around to head to the console and pilot them back, smiling at the sight of Courtney, curled up against Angel, her arms wrapped around the woman's middle as she sat on the armrest, one hand running through Courtney's hair in comfort as the girl appeared on the verge of being sick all over the place.

Right, best get back before there was a spillage.

~8~

Clara was still unsure even as she sat on the sofa of Danny's flat, snuggling up with him as they watched the television. He hadn't said much to her about anything since parents' evening ended, just basic things, nothing about the TARDIS or Blitzer or Time Lords and it was eating away at her.

She took a breath and went for broke, "So, what do you think of them now?"

"Who?"

"You know who. Angel, Tailor, the Doctor…"

Danny was silent, unable to stop thinking about the conversation he'd had with Angel before the Blitzer appeared. It had been weighing on him all night.

"I mean," Clara continued, not sure how to interpret his silence, "They're alright, you know."

"Suppose," Danny murmured, tensing. He didn't want to admit it. He'd been so set to hate them all for the danger they put Clara in and then…he let out a breath, and then he sat down and talked with one of them and now he just wasn't sure about anything.

"Ok," Clara turned off the telly, turning to face him, "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I know men like him," Danny said carefully, speaking only about the Doctor, he was, probably, the one he had the most issue with, "I've served under them. They push you and make you stronger, till you're doing things you never thought you could. I saw you tonight, you were willing to step in their place, to just run off, probably would have done exactly what he told you to do. Even when that Blitzer thing crashed through the doors, you weren't even scared. And you should have been."

He'd been terrified, terrified for HER.

And all it did was bring up things he never wanted to think about again.

"I trust them," Clara shook her head, "The Doctor and Angel have never let me down."

"Fine," Danny could give her that. Clara wasn't one to trust blindly, they would have had to prove they knew what they were doing and that she'd be safe for her to follow them the way she did, "But…if he ever pushes you too far, if...if you're ever in a real and serious and true danger, I want you to tell me, because I know what that's like. You'll tell me if that happens, yeah?"

"It won't," Clara gave him a smile, "Angel and Tailor…"

"Won't always be right next to him," Danny cut in, ignoring Clara's scoff at the thought of the man ever letting his girls more than a foot away from him if he could help it, "And if they're not there, if he's not...promise me, Clara."

"It's a deal," she gave in.

But he shook his head, serious, "No. It's a promise."

"Ok. I promise."

"And if you break that promise, Clara, we're finished."

Clara frowned at him, "Don't say that."

"I'm saying it because if you don't tell me the truth, I can't help you," he told her, "And I could never stand not being able to help you. We clear?"

He needed her to promise him. Right now his mind was in chaos, two parts of him warring against each other but the only thing he felt was wretched.

Because he should BE there with her, beside her, protecting her…and he didn't think he could.

He'd become a soldier to protect people, and ended up killing one instead.

He couldn't trust himself with Clara's safety, he didn't have the skills to keep her safe. The Blitzer had been proof of that.

But he wanted to be, and he wasn't, and...he also didn't want to be, and he had to get over that, or it would destroy everything.

He couldn't help her as it was, he wasn't sure he ever could and that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

Until he could…he needed to know she'd guard herself, even if it made him feel like a failure.

He needed time, to think, to process, to decide what he could handle.

His conversation with Angel hadn't made that easier.

"Yes," Clara answered, "We're clear."

She slowly moved to snuggle against him again, turning the television back on, though neither of them saw a moment of the show, both lost in their thoughts.

~8~

It felt like the blink of an eye that Matthew had been standing in a building doing his job as an officer when some mad creature started firing at him, to sitting across a desk from a man in a pale grey suit, in a brightly lit white corridor.

"It was mad," he was explaining to the man who'd asked him if he was alright, "It was like in a film or on the telly like, with science fiction guns."

"Skovox Blitzer," the man was nodding, "Sounds like. We were scheduled to have a few in from that. Wouldn't feel too bad."

"If I hadn't…" Matthew began, thinking back to what could have been if he'd just stayed out of that building, "If I hadn't…hang on. That doesn't make sense."

"Makes perfect sense to me."

Matthew shook his head, "How did I escape? I…I don't remember how I got away."

"Well, I was coming to that. I'm afraid you really rather didn't."

"Then how did I get here?" Matthew demanded, jumping to his feet and looking around, not even sure where 'here' was.

"Well. Big question…"

"Where am I?"

The man gave him a sad smile, "What name would you like? There's a range. The afterlife. The Promised Land. I'm partial to the Nethersphere."

Matthew moved over to a circular window in the wall he was sure hadn't been there a moment ago and looked out it through the blinds, gaping at what he saw beyond, "My God…"

They turned, hearing a clacking of heels on the floor to see Missy walk in, glance at them, before walking off.

"Sorry," the man apologized, "She's a bit cross. We were supposed to be busier today…so, any questions?"

Chapter Text

"And that name!" the Doctor was grumbling as he puttered around the console, "What sort of name is that?"

"What, Pink?" Angel asked, amused, sitting in the rather comfy chair near the console, munching on a few fish fingers dipped in custard, just watching her Mate. Tailor was off somewhere in the TARDIS with MK9, drafting up some potential lesson plans for Clara that she thought the children might enjoy, she even had a few for some creative ways to teach certain maths for Mr. Pink…the current topic of their conversation.

Well, it wasn't actually a conversation but more the Doctor complaining about the man for...going on three hours now. It had become quite a common occurrence really, almost every day the Doctor would see something or hear something or think of something that reminded him of Danny Pink and he'd launch into a tirade about the man and his 'abysmal manners'…as though the Doctor was one to talk. It had gotten to the point where, whenever he'd start, Tailor would wander off and do some sort of project for the man, whether it was a funny set of math jokes or ideas for lessons, she'd even made a makeshift scrap book of the adventures they'd shared with Clara to help the man catch up to speed with everything. It was like she was trying to make up for how much her father disliked the man by showing how much SHE did like him. Well, like him in a general sense as a human important to her Aunt and not in any way as though she fancied him. He was a nice bloke, but not to her tastes, but that didn't mean she wanted her father to kill him because he mistakenly took her acceptance as fancy.

Angel herself would do her best to wind the Doctor down from his rant, bring up good points about the man that the Doctor could not dispute, try to bring him around to that same acceptance.

But the Doctor was nothing if not stubborn.

And, in truth, she found these little rants rather sweet.

He seemed to forget she could feel him, more than anyone, having a direct emotional bond with him. For as much as he wanted to appear as though he hated the man, and he had a plethora of reasons why he should…it had more to do with Clara than how Danny had reacted to them. Oh the Doctor was right furious with how insulting and shouty and disrespectful Danny had been to them, to his girls. He'd written a book about it actually. He was angry that the man hadn't apologized to them, not really, calming down and talking to Angel did not an apology make. And he was none too pleased with the man's past as a soldier either, for however hypocritical it might make him seem.

And yes, he used those points numerous times in his spewing, but somehow it always ended on Clara. What did she see in a man like that? Did he shout at her too? WHY would she ever want to be around someone so normal? And that trickled down to questions like, did he treat her with the respect he hadn't show them? What were his prospects if not being a soldier? Did he genuinely care for Clara or was he some Slitheen in disguise using her to get access to time travel?

That last one had made Angel laugh for a good half an hour when he'd had the 'epiphany' and turned to her, begging her to answer truthfully if she'd sensed that about Danny.

The Doctor had never been a big brother to a human before, not like she had been a big sister. Brother-in-law, maybe, in a vague sense of the word, through her attachments to his Companions. Clara was the first to come that close in his hearts and he was still trying to grasp the nuances of being her protective yet also irritating sibling, looking out for his sister and wanting the best for her. He seemed to have a firm belief that he needed to conduct a series of tests on Mr. Pink to ascertain if he was, in fact, worthy of Clara.

This, however, was dampened by the fact that he'd already decided no one was good enough for his sister.

"I think it's a rather colorful name," Angel remarked.

The Doctor made a face as though he'd sucked a lemon, "Pink? Really, though, what kind of name IS that?"

Angel shrugged, "What kind of name is Angel?"

She'd learned early on if she made some sort of comparison to herself or Tailor, it had the benefit of turning the conversation away from ranting and helped him ease away from his disappointment with Clara's life choices.

"A perfect one."

She smiled at his answer, "As is Doctor," she moved to get up from the seat, setting her small plate of crumbs to the armrest, heading over to him and taking his hand as he set the old box down in the storeroom of Coal Hill. They had been called in by Clara, something about a student, which made him think of teaching, which made him think of the teachers, which made him think of Mr. Pink and set him off about 'how could he even call himself a maths teacher when he hadn't even heard of recreational mathematics?!' She shook her head from that memory, it would be better to have him calm and in a better mood when they spoke with Clara, "And Clara seems to think Pink is a fine name as well. It is not our right to tell her what to think or feel."

The Doctor sighed, feeling all the frustration and tension leaving him just at the feel of Angel's hand in his, "But did it have to be a soldier?"

Angel reached out to touch his cheek with her other hand, stroking it lightly with her thumb. For some reason it was always a little surprising how different the different hims were. Oh his last few selves held so much guilt for the War, for the role they thought they played. But this him, it was like a contradiction of sorts. He was relieved and could finally look back on his life without that guilt and burden, that he had saved instead of slaughtered. She had seen how some of his thoughts drifted to herself, to how he finally felt a little more like he deserved an angel for a Mate. But he also seemed to have the feeling that other soldiers were not the same as him and all they wanted to do was obey orders and kill the enemy and destroy. It was like he had taken all that he had hated about himself and imposed it on others. He had finally learned that he truly had been the Doctor all through the war, not a soldier, not a warrior, but didn't seem to make the connection that other soldiers weren't just soldiers either.

He had hated what he thought he'd become so much, he couldn't seem to see why others might love soldiers, or those who had been them, at all.

He deserved love more now because he had never been a real soldier, had never killed his people the way he thought he had.

Well, she would just have to remind him why he had become a soldier in the first place, remind him why anyone usually became a soldier, to protect and to save others, to make the world a better place.

"Who else but a soldier could keep her safe?" she countered, "We both were soldiers at one point, she loves us. She loves Danny, Doctor."

"I just…I don't like him."

She let out a light laugh at that, "I never would have guessed that, thanks," she tilted her head as she looked into his eyes, thoughtful, "How about this? After we see what sort of crisis Clara's got for us, we invite her and Mr. Pink to a pub quiz?" she smiled, "Hermits United vs. Gingers United? We still have to get to that…" that earned a laugh from him, "We could invite the whole family!" she added as a suggestion, they had managed to swing around and see Sarah Jane and Skye, but things just seemed to keep coming up every time they tried to pop round by the others. Seeing him smile at the thought though, it gave her hope she might talk him into this, "We should get to know him before you start cursing his name."

He sighed, knowing she was right, "This really is a problem, you know."

"What is?"

He leaned into her touch, smiling softly down at her, "How I can never say no to you."

"Hmm," she hummed, her smile becoming more pleased, "I'm not complaining."

He laughed, leaning down to kiss her, he certainly wasn't complaining either, not when he had her in his arms, pulling her closer to deepen the kiss...

Though with the way the TARDIS groaned around them, the old girl very much WAS.

"Aunt Idris says to get a room," Tailor's voice rang out, an odd mix of amused and exasperated. If only this had been the first time she had walked in on her parents in some sort of innocently compromising position.

Honestly, with how in love they were, with how her father never seemed able to keep his hands off her mother, HOW did she still NOT have a little brother?!

"Oi!" the Doctor huffed up at the box as it made an odd almost drumming noise.

"She's laughing at you, my love," Angel told him with a light chuckle, "Oh, hush, Sissy," she called to the box, "I think, after all this time, we've earned a little snog in our snogging booth."

Tailor giggled, crouching down to pet MK9 as the little dog caught up to her, "I still can't believe Aunt Clara called it that."

"Yes, well, speaking of your Aunt, she's probably finishing up her classes now," the Doctor glanced at a clock set into the console that automatically adjusted to where they set down, "Best get on."

Tailor rolled her eyes at how 'thrilled' he sounded to have his snog with her mother interrupted just to go see Clara, but SHE, on the other hand, was quite excited to see her Aunt, as she was for all her family, "Well come on then," she cheered, bumping into her father playfully as she passed, she and MK9 heading for the door, "Andiamo!"

The Doctor let out a hearty laugh at that, over the last few trips they'd had they quickly discovered that where his past self had favored French, his daughter had gone with Italian.

~8~

Clara did not give them even a moment to greet her when they stepped out of the TARDIS and into the storeroom before she had started on them, or started in on the Doctor at least, "Courtney Woods. Doctor, she has gone crazy. She's uncontrollable. She took your psychic paper. She's been using it as fake ID."

"To get into museums?" the Doctor asked, not seeing a problem with that.

Tailor, however, snorted. She may not be human but she'd gotten enough of a sense off of Courtney last time to guess a museum was the LAST place the girl would go.

"No, no, no," Clara shook her head, "To buy White Lightning or alcopops or whatever."

"I don't think she's quite that rebellious, Clara," Angel reassured her.

"How did she even get a hold of it?" Clara looked to the psychic for an answer.

"My fault," Tailor winced at the realization, "I was showing her some things last time to make her feel better. The Psychic Paper, the sonic, the TARDIS manual mum and I are working on…"

"Better question," the Doctor cut in with a frown to Clara, "What…what is a Courtney Woods?"

Clara was NOT impressed, crossing her arms, most unamused, "She's one of my year tens. She was in the TARDIS when you got rid of the Blitzer."

"Nearly threw up," Tailor added.

"Oh, her," the Doctor nodded, now vaguely almost sort of recalling her, "Oh, that was ages ago."

"Look," Clara cut in, firm now, upset, "She says that you told her that she wasn't special."

"Oh, my love," Angel sighed, knowing he probably meant it to come across differently than it had. You're not special, you're extraordinary…but just forgot to say the rest of it. He sometimes forgot that other people couldn't read his mind the way she could.

"Rubbish," the Doctor scoffed, he could not recall ever saying that to a child, let alone a disruptive influence after his own hearts.

"She says that's what sent her off the rails," Clara argued, before taking a breath and trying to be more rational, "Doctor. I know, I know. But, you say something like that to somebody, it hurts. Especially if you're somebody of her age, especially if you're you. Doctor, it can affect her whole life."

Angel put a hand on the Doctor's arm to still him, turning to Clara, "She's in the hall?" she didn't need to ask, but it was more polite.

Clara nodded, crossing her arms and hoping Angel could fix this.

Angel walked over to the door to the hall, peering out as she opened it to see Courtney sitting cross-legged on the floor, "Well come on, sweetheart," she smiled down at the girl, "Want to take a trip?"

"Angel!" Clara called, that was NOT what she'd had in mind. Perhaps the psychic would reveal that Courtney would go on to be a surgeon or headmaster or something, seeing the girl being special in the future. A trip in the TARDIS was very far from that.

"Come on, Aunt Clara," Tailor moved to her side and bumped her hip, "Only the most special people in the Universe get a trip with Aunt Idris."

Clara, in a move far too similar to the Doctor's last self, opened her mouth and pointed at Tailor like she was going to argue, before sighing and pouting and letting her hand drop, unable to come up with one.

The Doctor just smirked as his girls one-upped his sister, "Come on, come on," he gave a mock long-suffering sigh, turning to head to the box, snapping his fingers to open the door as the women followed him in.

"Oh yes!" Courtney cheered as she hurried in before Miss Oswald could stop her, beaming as she looked around, "I was hoping you'd take me along again. Look!" she held up her wrists to show Tailor two bands wrapped around them, "I got these from the chemist just to be safe."

The Doctor frowned down at them, not sure why she was showing them, "Vortex manipulators?"

"Dad," Tailor huffed, "Do they look anything like Uncle Jack's?"

No, no they did not, not even close.

"Scanners indicate magnets," MK9 offered as he rolled up to the group, Courtney grinning widely and rushing to pet the metal dog she'd only gotten to glimpse last time.

"For travel sickness," Courtney added, seeming very proud of that.

Angel gave a light laugh, "Very good thinking. Sissy does NOT like people being sick in her."

"You call your spaceship a sissy?" Courtney eyed her oddly.

"No," Angel shook her head gently, "She talks and I understand her. She sees me like a sister and so I return the favor."

"You're related to your spaceship?" that seemed even MORE weird to her, but then again…aliens.

"You keep those on," the Doctor pointed at Courtney, "No being sick in our TARDIS."

"She's not going to need those," Clara told them.

But the Doctor shook his head, "It's a rule."

"No, I mean, she's not going to be doing any travelling," she turned to Angel, "Thank you for the thought, but if the Doctor would just…just tell her?"

"Tell her what?" he asked.

"Tell her that she's special!" Clara nearly ground out, getting frustrated with him. This was a bit unlike him though, he was usually a little kinder with kids around. Not by much, but some.

"Have you gone bananas?"

"Do you really think I'm not special?" Courtney cut in with a frown, sounding genuinely hurt, "You can't just take me away like that. It's like you kicked a big hole in in the side of my life. You really think it? I'm nothing? I'm not special?"

The Doctor looked over to his Mate and Daughter for help, earning a wink of reassurance from Angel, "How about being the first woman on the moon?" she offered.

"But I thought she was…" Tailor began, a small frown on her face, but her father cut her off, keeping her from saying too much.

Telling Courtney what her future was wouldn't mean much if she thought they were just saying things to make her feel better. Showing her, giving her that special moment first would show her she was special to begin with.

The Doctor snapped his fingers and pointed at Angel before turning to Courtney, "Is that special enough for you?"

Courtney grinned, "Yeah, alright."

"Ok," he nodded, moving to the console where Angel and Tailor were already getting the coordinates going, "Now we can do something interesting."

He pulled the final lever to set the box flying through space and time, studiously ignoring Clara's shouts as he did so.

~8~

"Sorry about that," Angel was saying into the comms. of the spacesuits they had all donned as they stepped out of the TARDIS and into a cargo bay of some sort, Mk9 insisting on trundling out first to scan the area for danger to his Mistress. She had thought it was quite adorable how protective the dog was of her daughter and allowed it even though she hadn't sensed anything of alarm past the doors, but, then again, "Sissy wasn't keen on landing on the moon," she continued, the exact reason why it was best to let MK9 have his moment, for the old girl to not want to land somewhere meant something certainly was up and she couldn't see everything, "Best not to fight her and let her land where she wants."

"And where is that?" Clara asked as she looked around at the room they had entered. It was a rather cramped sort of storage area, filled with cylindrical objects everywhere, some in racks, other scattered about. There were a few with a US flag on them, others with writing she couldn't make out.

"Scanners indicate storeroom of a space shuttle," MK9 determined.

"On a recycled space shuttle," the Doctor corrected, his arm slung around Tailor's shoulder, "Care to give it a guess, sweetheart?"

Tailor eyed the room carefully, looking for anything that might help narrow it down, before offering, "2049?" she looked at her father who nodded with a proud grin.

"Affirmative!" MK9 wagged his tail, proud of his Mistress.

"And how'd you figure that?" the Doctor continued to quiz.

"That," she pointed to one of objects around them, "It's a prototype version of the Bennett oscillator, which was first introduced just before 2050."

"Correctamundo!" the Doctor cheered, before grimacing, "Terrible word. Why do I keep using it?"

"Another question," Angel cut in with a frown as she looked at the floor beneath her feet, "Why aren't we floating about more?"

"Is it safe to take these things off?" Courtney huffed, her face scrunched up in her helmet, "This thing is squeezing my brain."

"Oxygen levels normal for human life," MK9 reported.

The Doctor nodded, pulling his helmet off, as did Angel and Tailor, the humans hesitating a moment longer before doing so as well.

Clara moved closer to one of the cylinders, squinting at the odd writing on them, "What are they?"

"About a hundred nuclear bombs," the Doctor answered with a frown, moving to look at them as well, MK9 following him closely in case his skills were needed.

But Angel reached out to grab his arm, stopping him, "We need to hold on, all of you," she looked around, moving to usher Tailor and Courtney towards a wall where cargo nets were draped, "MK9," she called to the dog, "Magnetize," she ordered, recalling one of the upgrades Tailor had given the dog, the robot quickly shifting so it latched onto the floor more firmly, "The rest of you, grab on and don't let go…"

"Why…" Clara began to ask...when an alarm sounded.

The Doctor moved to the window, peering out at the moon, seeing the celestial object growing larger and larger at a speed not even HE was comfortable with, "We're about to crash into the moon!" he added to Angel's warning, hurrying over to the nets and making sure everyone was secure, "Hold on! Hold on!"

Clara let out a groan, hissing under her breath at the Doctor, "Why didn't you just tell her you didn't mean it?" she lamented. They would have never been in this situation, where one of her kids was now in danger, to begin with. If anything happened to Courtney, she would never forgive the Time Lords, she would never forgive herself either for not doing more to stop this happening.

It was one thing when it was just HER on an adventure, it was her life, her choice, she was an adult and capable of making her own decisions. Courtney was a child, prone to wandering and disobeying the rules and rushing about without thought.

Oh god, this was going to be a nightmare, wasn't it?

Her frantic thoughts were cut off when the entire room shook, the shuttle they were stowing away on did just as the Doctor said and crashed right into the moon's surface. Given the grinding noises sounding over the alarm, it was quite clear that there had been no landing gear, that the shuttle was just skidding across the surface until it finally came to a halt.

The entire group of travelers froze, waiting a moment to make sure the shuttle was still, before releasing the nets and standing straight again…just as the doors opened and three individuals, one woman and two men, in what appeared to be older-fashioned NASA suits entered.

Tailor bit her lip to keep from laughing at their flabbergasted expressions when they saw one robotic dog, four girls, and one man standing before them where people should NOT have been standing. It was always so fun to surprise people that way, though she couldn't help but wonder what excuse her father would use this time to explain their random appearance on a sealed and contained craft.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" the woman in the lead of the trio demanded, someone who could only be the leader. It always seemed that the one most startled by their arrival was the one who would get in the most trouble for them being there.

"Language," Angel commented in a light warning, "There are children present."

As though it wasn't bad enough to have five random people appear, two of them were children.

That seemed to jolt the Doctor into action, his largest concern coming to the forefront of his mind as he strode forward, "Why have you got all these nuclear bombs?" if he didn't like guns around is girls, bombs were even worse.

The woman however, just glared back at him, moving a hand to her hip as though about to pull a gun on them, "I'm not going to give you another chance."

The Doctor snorted, seeming on the verge of laughing but kept it in, to the amusement of his daughter. Tailor made a small hand gesture to MK9 to stand down, the dog trundling up to her side, a laser at the ready to protect her, though she shook her head at the dog. They were safe, she was sure of it, not only would her mother have sensed that particular danger and brought up the Vortex, but her father's reaction sealed it. He would have had a MUCH different one if the trio before them actually DID have weapons.

Instead, the Doctor just turned to the woman, to her two goons, "Well, you're just going to have to shoot us, then. Shoot the little girl first."

"What?" Courtney demanded.

"Rude, my love," Angel sighed, moving over to Courtney, "No one is getting shot," she whispered to the girl reassuringly.

"But he said…"

"Watch," Angel murmured, giving her a wink and turning to watch the Doctor handle the situation as she rested her hand on Courtney's shoulder in comfort.

"She doesn't want to stand there watching us getting shot, does she?" the Doctor continued, speaking still to the threatening humans, "She'll be terrified. Girl first, then her teacher, and then me. You'll have to get me first because if you harm my Mate or my child, there will be even more hell to pay than there is for you just threatening them. Though, fair warning, you'll end up spending a lot of time shooting me because I will keep on regenerating. In fact, I'm not entirely sure that I won't keep on regenerating forever."

Tailor eyed her father oddly as he had started to do a little odd dance of sorts mid-rant, taking slow steps backwards and forwards before it evolved into a series of little hops.

"Do I want to know what he's doing?" Clara whispered to Tailor.

"Gravity test," Tailor answered, recalling how both her parents had remarked on the gravity being off.

"So, it'll be very time-consuming and messy, and rather wasteful of your energy and our time," the Doctor kept on, "Because, I can almost guarantee that you won't even be able to land a shot on any of us."

"You think I won't shoot you where you stand?" the woman demanded, her hand more firmly on her hip though she didn't pull her weapon yet.

"I think if you even tried, my Mate…" he gestured at Angel.

"Angel," she added, "Nice to meet you, Ms. Lundvik."

"How…" the woman began, startled.

But the Doctor cut in, "Would see it coming, the psychic."

"Thief," Angel joked back.

"She would see it and she'd create this clever little shield using the power of the Time Vortex, complicated stuff, not going to waste my time explaining THAT. The point is, just try and hurt any of us, and, if I don't stop you first, my lovely Mate will, and neither of us do very well when you threaten our daughter, do we sweetheart?"

Tailor had to nod at that, "Hello," she added, giving them a wave "Tailor, their daughter, in case it wasn't obvious. Oh!" she realized something, "And this is my dog, MK9, and my Aunt Clara and her student, Courtney."

"Greetings!" MK9's ears and tails moved.

"Hi?" Clara's greeting sounded more like a question than anything, looking between the Time Lords, a bit more lost than she normally was.

"Are you really going to shoot us?" Courtney asked.

"Shhh," the Doctor put a finger in front of his lips, before spinning to face the trio of human astronauts, "Basically, it boils down to the fact that we might just possibly be able to help you because I am the Doctor and we are super-intelligent alien beings who fly in time and space. Are you going to shoot us?"

Tailor shook her head at that. Of course her father wanted to get to the end of his speech to ask that question.

The blonde woman, Lundvik, looked between them, considering his words, her gaze flickering to Angel as she smiled almost knowingly at her. The girl HAD known her name without introduction, and she seemed far too calm with the threat against her group…perhaps she really WAS psychic, and if she was, then perhaps that force, the vortex or whatever it was called, was real too. If she was truly as powerful as this Doctor bloke seemed to think, she didn't want to set the woman off.

And, if she was being honest, any help they could get right now would be something to jump on.

"No," she finally decided, lowering her hand from her hip.

The Doctor smiled, "Good. Why have you got all these nuclear bombs? No, no, no. Easier question," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a yo-yo, holding it up to the woman, 'What's wrong with my yo-yo?" he flicked it and brought it back.

Clara sighed, not seeing anything wrong with it, "Doctor, it goes up and down."

"Bingo!" he pointed at her, before grimacing at that word too, it was almost worse than correctamundo.

"The gravity is off," Tailor nodded, "We should have been floating about before we landed, and bouncing more now because there is a little more gravity when on a planetary body, even one as small as the moon. But we're not."

"What is the matter with the moon?" the Doctor turned to the trio.

"Nobody knows," Lundvik answered.

"Do you know what's wrong with the moon?" Clara looked at the Time Lords.

Tailor shrugged when her parents didn't answer, "It's increased in mass," she said, giving the simplest explanation for the change in gravity, "The more mass, the greater the gravity."

"But how?" Lunkvik shook her head, "It's not like the moon can put on weight."

...slithering and skittering black masses crawled about within a fissure...

'...I didn't expect to survive anyway...'

...a grey sphere hung against a blue backdrop, breaking apart like an egg...

Angel looked away with a small frown, confused at what she had seen for it truly made no sense to her. Usually she could at least gleam something of importance or something that made sense for where they were or how the adventure was going.

"Actually, it can" the Doctor cut in, glancing at Angel, seeing the vision in her mind, though he was more disturbed than confused, "Gravity bombs, axis alignment systems, planet shellers…"

"So it's alien," Lundvik rationalized.

Angel frowned deeply, "That can't be good for everyone on Earth," she murmured, looking out the window at the blue planet hanging in the black of space, "It would raise the tides, wouldn't it?" she looked at the Doctor.

He nodded grimly, "So high that they will drown whole cities."

"Yeah," Lundvik turned solemn, serious, clearly that scenario had already occurred.

"So what are you doing about it?" Tailor asked the woman.

Lundvik just turned and moved over to the wall, taking a case from it that reminded them all far too much of when people had been trying to blow up the planet the Cybermen had taken over via amusement park.

"You can't be serious," Tailor gaped at the woman. What was it with humans and their need to blow things up? Honestly, she thought her father was the worst when it came to that, with her Uncle Jack being a close second, but perhaps it was a far wider problem than she'd realized.

"That's what you do with aliens, isn't it?" the woman countered, "Blow them up?"

Clara couldn't help but glance at the three aliens in the room uneasily at that.

~8~

With helmets secure, the group of humans and Time Lords stepped out of the airlock of the shuttle and onto the surface of the moon, though with a little creative placement on the Time Lords' part, Courtney was the first one. Angel glanced over at the Doctor to see him smiling at how excited the girl was.

"Wow!" Courtney gasped, "Wow! One small thing for a thing. One enormous thing for a thingy thing."

"So much for history," Lundvik grumbled.

"One small step for man," Tailor corrected, MK9 rolling along beside her, "One giant leap for mankind."

"Yeah, that!" Courtney laughed.

Angel reached out and took the Doctor's hand as his smile began to fade with those famous words. She didn't need to be psychic or his Mate with a link to his mind to know where his thoughts had gone. They had been there when the words were first spoken, when they were first broadcast to all of humanity and into the future. They were part of a small number of people who knew there was more to that line than anyone would remember. She knew he was thinking about the Silence, about their command to the humans to kill them all on sight, about how HE had been the one to put that in on the suggestion of River Song, how he had done it with a smile and a laugh.

He had truly fallen so far from the man he had always tried to be, from the man who Angel loved, when River Song had been around. To have lived since the war believing he had committed genocide against his own people, and to work so hard to save other species from experiencing the same. And then to go ahead and urge humans to commit it in a way where they would have no choice in it.

He was, even now, still trying to pull himself out of the darkness he had spiraled into during his amnesia with River trying her damnedest to influence him. Angel, bless her, was just as much a light in the darkness as she had always been and he felt like, each day, he grew farther and farther away from that man and into one who his Mate and daughter could be proud of.

He would never forgive himself for all those mistakes he made, he would never forgive River either.

'The Silence fled,' Angel reminded him in his mind, as always trying to make him feel better (he often found that ironic given HE was the Doctor, the one who was meant to do that), 'They have learned to stay far away from any humans outside the Church. They won't put themselves in danger and the humans will never have to kill them.'

'I still can't believe I ever went along with that,' he returned, desperately wishing he wasn't wearing a helmet so he could press a kiss to her hands in gentle thanks, 'I can't believe I became that man again.'

'You were never him,' she reassured him, knowing he was thinking of the man he'd been during the war, the incarnation he'd always denied, a man willing to commit such devastation, 'You could never be him unless someone else was pulling the strings.'

For one brief moment, the Doctor felt a wave of sympathy for the Master, as odd as it was to think on. A puppet on strings with someone else pulling them. The High Council had done just that, turned the Master into their puppet when they put that drumming in his head, driving him insane, to where he just wanted the pain to stop. He could feel a similarity to the man now that he looked back on how he had been during that dark period of amnesia. Someone else had played with is mind, his memories, removed such a key part of them as to alter who he intrinsically was for he had no doubt that knowing Angel, being around her, loving her, had changed him. Someone else had manipulated him, used everything they knew about him, and about Angel, to guide him down a path he would never have gone down. He had fallen into the Silence's trap, had fallen into River's clutches, and allowed himself to be swayed by others till he was doing things that made him sick to think back on.

'Good thing I have a guardian angel to watch over me now,' he smiled at her, 'No one will be getting any strings on me. I'd rather be wrapped around your little finger than anyone else's.'

Well, her and Tailor's, those were the only two he could stomach in this body.

Perhaps that was a lingering emotion from his last self?

It had not escaped him that he was shorter with humans in this body, a bit ruder, wanting a little less to do with them and their pudding brains. Perhaps it was because another human had been able to get so close to him, to pull him away from his Mate so much that this was his mind's way of protecting itself. Keep the humans at a distance so that the only room in his life was for his girls. If he was bothered by humans, River would never be able to get as close as she had in the past.

It hurt, sometimes, when he said something to Clara especially, when he saw that flash of hurt across her face. He didn't want to hurt her, she truly was like a sister to him, he looked out for her, but part of him just wanted to be left alone with his Mate and daughter, part of him just didn't care so long as he wasn't hurting his girls.

He was working on it though, because humans WERE exceptional, he knew he believed it, had always believed it, and didn't deserve to be belittled. He knew his girls were more openly affectionate for the humans, especially given most of their 'family' were humans, even more so now that there was an ocean of Ponds out there. He wanted to be able to appreciate them, it was just...hard.

"Come on," Lundvik's voice broke through his pondering thoughts, and he looked over to see the woman leading them towards a modular sort of settlement they could see settled in a nearby crater.

Angel glanced back behind them at the utterly wrecked shuttle they had stepped out of, a light frown on her face at the thought that they were just leaving so many weapons back there. Something about this wasn't sitting right with her. If they had brought all those weapons to the moon to stop some sort of alien, wouldn't they need to bring it WITH them? Weren't they worried about the alien reaching the weapons first? They couldn't possibly mean to leave them there so they could get far enough away to blow up the moon…

Right?

The more she thought on that, the more the unease grew, the larger the pit in her stomach became.

'No one is blowing up anything,' the Doctor promised in her mind, squeezing her hand, though she could see he too had the same worries about abandoning the craft, 'Except maybe that,' he added as an afterthought, nodding his head over to where Courtney had her mobile out and was taking a number of photos of everything around her.

"There was a mining survey, Mexicans," Lundvik was explaining as they approached the settlement, "Something happened up here. Nobody knows what. That's when the trouble began back on Earth. High tide everywhere at once. The greatest natural disaster in history…" she trailed off as they made it around the building towards the airlock, only to find it wide open.

Clara frowned as she stepped towards it, seeing something hanging near the corner of it, "Cobwebs?"

Lundvik seemed to take that as proof something was truly wrong and turned to one of her men, "Henry, go back and prime the bombs."

"Er, is there any instructions?" the man hesitated.

Tailor frowned at that, "You came here with bombs you don't even know how to operate?" she asked them, "Did you happen to steal that shuttle?"

How could any mission to the moon be headed by people who didn't know what they were doing unless this wasn't an authorized mission? Either that or the situation on Earth was truly so bad as to be a desperate state.

Lundvik ignored her, focusing on her partner, "There's a switch on each of them. The light goes red."

That didn't seem to comfort the man, "They won't go off?"

"No, not till I fiddle with this thing," Lundvik showed him the case that had been attached to her since she pulled it off the wall.

"…ok," Henry sighed, reluctantly turning and heading back toward the shuttle.

"Shall we?" Lundvik looked at the rest of them, before starting to head to the airlock.

The Doctor just watched the poor man go before turning to Lundvik, "Is that the best you could get?"

The woman scoffed, "Second-hand space shuttle, third-hand astronauts."

That did nothing to ease the tension the Time Lords were feeling, but there was little option but to follow the woman into the settlement if they wanted to find out what was happening to the moon.

~8~

"Are there supposed to be this many cobwebs?" Tailor had to ask the further they made it into the tunnel that opened into the shuttle from the airlock, tugging one off and moving it onto MK9's nose to scan it just in case, "Wouldn't the door create a vacuum?"

"If the gravity is off, it must be countering that," Angel murmured, frowning at one as she reached out to touch it with her glove, before she shuddered and pulled back, "The four people who were here, why do you think they aren't anymore?"

Lundvik was about to ask how she knew it was four people for the settlement, but shook her head, the girl really was turning out to be an actual psychic. She realized, then, that the girl hadn't asked what had killed them, if she WAS psychic, she might already know, she was asking what had made THEM think it too. She sighed, "The Minera Luna San Pedro. It was privately financed. They were doing a mineral survey up here."

"Didn't answer her question," the Doctor pointed out, "Did they send messages? Mayday? SOS?"

"Pretty much all the satellites had been whacked out of orbit," the other man that had come with Lundvik answered, "They managed to send back some screams."

"Wait," Tailor frowned, looking between the man and her mother, "If you thought they weren't here anymore, then you didn't come here with bombs to rescue them."

"Er…no."

"They disappeared ten years ago," Lundvik added.

The Doctor frowned deeply at that, "Nobody came?"

"There was no shuttle!"

"YOU had one."

"It was in a museum," the woman informed him, "They'd cut the back off it so kids could ride in it. We'd stopped going into space. Nobody cared. Not until…"

"Hey!" Courtney called out with a huff as Angel tugged her back from what looked like a mass of webs spun like an enormous cocoon.

"Tailor," Angel turned instead to her daughter, "Why don't you and Courtney go to the controls and see if you can't get power back."

Tailor frowned at her mother, at the faint tone of something other than suggestion in her voice, "What don't you want us to see?"

"Your daughter," the Doctor mumbled as he moved beside his Mate, "Psychic."

Angel, however, shook her head, "Your daughter this time, perceptive."

"HIM?" Clara nearly snorted at that, in this body 'perceptive' and 'Doctor' were not two words she'd put together.

But Courtney was having none of the banter, "You don't want me to see something? What is it? Why can't I see it? Is it an alien? Is there some sort of alien in there? Can I see?!"

The Doctor looked over at Angel, not sure what to do, but all she could do was shrug. If they tried to send Courtney away, the girl would sneak back. No one needed to be psychic to know that.

He sighed and moved over to the mass of webs, pulling out the sonic from a pocket of his suit and running it straight down, peeling back a side to reveal a spacesuit hanging in it.

"I think I'm gonna be sick now," Courtney wheezed out, already catching on to what that meant. Despite what she was sure Miss Oswald felt, she actually DID pay attention in class, she knew what a cocoon was and she also knew that some spiders wrapped their prey up in something similar. And if it's been ten years…no way the person in the suit was still alive.

"Oh, my God," Clara breathed at the sight of it, "Please, tell me there wasn't anyone inside that thing."

The Doctor was grim as he scanned it with his sonic, "I could, but it wouldn't make it true."

Lundvik's other partner turned green at that, quickly backing away, "I'll get some power back on."

"Come on," Clara shook herself out of the shock and reached out for Courtney, pulling the girl into her arms a bit, "Now, Courtney, come here. Don't look. You alright?"

"I'm ok," Courtney said softly.

Clara glanced over at where the Doctor and Angel were working on cutting what could only be a corpse down, MK9 firing his little laser near the base of the cocoon to help cut it, and turned back to Courtney, "Hey. Look. Look at me. Look. It's alright if you're not."

"I'm fine," Courtney insisted, taking a deep breath and turning to watch the Time Lords, "What did it?"

Tailor stepped closer to her mother as the Doctor crouched down to examine it with MK9 scanning, Angel putting an arm around her shoulders, knowing her thoughts had likely gone to another empty spacesuit she'd been forced into as a child. It was reassuring just having her mother's touch on her shoulders, to know that would never be her fate again, her parents would never, ever allow it.

"Maybe something trying to find out how you're put together," the Doctor suggested, "Or maybe how you tasted."

Tailor nudged her father with her foot, giving him a shake of the head when he looked at her, telling him that was probably not the best thing to say to a child already a bit freaked out.

"Do we have guns?" Courtney looked to Lundvik, knowing the woman had seemed about to pull one on them earlier.

"Not unless you brought some," the woman told her, her bluff called.

The Doctor looked up when the room began to power back on, lights and an air system kicking in, "Save the air," he told them, standing to take his helmet off as the others followed suit. He moved over to an old computer console, trying to get it to power up as well, but it seemed truly dead…until a gentle hand poked a button, a spark of gold jumping off it and into the console, giving it just the boost it needed to flicker on. He looked up at Angel as she gave him a wink and leaned in to kiss her quickly for her help.

He quickly brought up any records, any survey material he could, "They didn't find anything," he glanced over at Lundvik and her partner, "The Mexicans. They didn't find any minerals on the moon at all. Nada."

"What about this?" Tailor called from a table, holding up one of a number of photographs that had been scattered across it, "Lines of tectonic stress," she told her father as he joined her.

Angel frowned, looking to the side as he moved over to their daughter, a niggling in the back of her mind she couldn't quite place, a sense of unease growing but also feeling...distant, as though it wasn't centered in this room...

"That's the Mare Fecunditatis," Lundvik pointed out as she too walked over, "It's been there since the Apollo days. It's always been there."

"No, no, no," the Doctor shook his head, pointing out the discrepancies, "These are much, much bigger. Sea of Tranquility. Sea of Nectar. Sea of Ingenuity. Sea of Crises…"

"Meaning?" Clara shook her head, not seeing the point.

The Doctor glanced up as the lights flickered, "Meaning, Clara, that the moon, this little planetoid that's been tagging along beside you for a hundred million years, which gives you light at night and seas to sail on, is in the process of falling to bits."

Angel gasped as a cold feeling shot through her, looking around at the others in the room, all looking at the pictures, before she quickly tugged her helmet back on and disappeared in a flash of gold, moments before a bang went off and the entire room began to shake…

~8~

Poor old Henry hadn't even made it back to the shuttle before he was knocked to the ground by a fierce shaking beneath his feet. He would have said it was an earthquake, but they weren't on earth and despite how ill prepared he felt he was for this mission, even he knew the moon didn't have the core required for a quake like this to happen. He paused after the shaking stilled, making sure it was safe before he pushed himself back to his feet. He pulled his comm. from his belt and lifted it, trying to get in touch with the others to make sure they were alright.

"Hello, Captain?" he called, "Captain? Captain?"

He hesitated, looking between the shuttle and the direction the others had gone, debating what to do, when he heard a scuttling sound, almost a chirping. He frowned, turning in that direction and spotting a slit in the ground. He lifted his torch, aiming it at the slit for a moment, before jerking back with a gasp, staggering away as something launched out of it right for him.

"No!" he cried, squeezing his eyes shut, throwing his arms up to try and protect himself as a bright light flickered behind his eyelids…only for nothing to hit him. He hesitated a moment, before lowering his arms and peeking an eye open to see that one woman, the kind woman who had introduced herself as Angel, standing in front of him in her spacesuit, a hand held out, a golden wall shimmering before her…with small black things the size of a small dog launching themselves at it, trying to break through.

"What…" he breathed.

"Henry," Angel spoke over the comm., holding out her other hand to him, "Take my hand."

He was not about to wait till she asked twice before he was scrambling to his feet and grabbing hold of her. If she was creating that gold thing that saved him, he'd do anything she asked.

A moment later it was as though the wall curved backwards towards them, swirling around them before it flared brighter, making him squeeze his eyes shut...

~8~

The small group within the settlement slowly got to their feet as the shaking subsided, the old base managing to hold up with not too much damage.

"Mistress!" MK9 squeaked as he trundled over to Tailor, scanning her quickly to see if she'd been injured while the Doctor helped her up.

"Is everyone ok?" Lundvik asked, looking around at those present, "Hod on, where's the other one?" she pointed at the Doctor and Tailor, knowing the missing person was more important to them.

Tailor glanced around, absently petting MK9 on the head in reassurance, "Mum does that sometimes."

Clara looked over at the Doctor, more concerned for his reaction, but he was standing there with his eyes closed, his hands clenched into fists. She knew he'd likely realized the exact moment Angel had disappeared, that he was probably reaching out to her in his mind right as they spoke, keeping an eye on her. She was just worried what he'd do when he finally returned to the present and opened his mouth. He really was not the best person to be around when Angel was even remotely in danger.

She tried to ignore the flush she felt recalling how Angel had compared the Doctor's fear for her with Danny's own fear for HER and what it meant.

So long as the Time Lord kept quiet, she was NOT going to jog him out of his thoughts.

"How did she…" Lundvik began to ask, when a high-pitched sound cut her off, followed quickly by a scuttling noise that was steadily growing louder.

"What the hell was that?" Courtney looked around, trying to see where the noise was coming from.

"Duke, is that you?" Lundvik turned to her second partner.

The man just gave her a look from where he was working on one of the control panels, "I don't sound anything like that."

"Can you try and get the lights back on?"

"That's what I'm doing," he grumbled.

"MK9?" Tailor glanced at the dog, "Any sound bytes in your data bank that sound like that?"

MK9's ears wagged, assessing the sound, "Negative, Mistress."

The Doctor opened his eyes, the sound of running claws, pitter-pattering of tips on the floor, growing too loud to ignore, "I think we've found your alien," he spoke, turning towards the sound of the noise to see a giant spider-like creature with red glowing around the knees come around a corner, speeding right for them.

"Get back!" Clara called out, pulling Courtney back as the spider launched itself at them…

Suddenly a bright light flared out in the middle of the room, and the next thing any of the humans knew, Angel and Henry were standing there, with a golden wall shimmering in the archway to the corridor, the spider-thing throwing itself at the wall, trying to get through but unable to do so.

Tailor laughed at the sight, "Mum also does that, too."

"Henry?" Lundvik shook her head, completely thrown.

"Angel!" the Doctor let out a breath of relief, thankful she was back. He knew why she'd gone, she'd felt Henry in danger and had gone to help him, he couldn't fault her that, but he did hate it (SO MUCH) when she just disappeared and he couldn't help her. But she was back now, and he needed to get them further to safety, "Door!" he shouted, turning to look for one, "We need a door. A door, a door!"

"Here!" Clara called, finding one, "Here! The door's locked."

"Dad, sonic!" Tailor held out her hand for him to toss it to her, being nearer the door than he was. He quickly did so, the girl getting it open. When her mother had appeared, she had sent a flare of energy out, both as a way to push the spider-thing further back but also to get the lights and power back on. The door unlocked and she began to urge Clara and Courtney through it, MK9 rolling after them.

"Right, you lot, go!" the Doctor shouted.

"Who made you the boss?" Lundvik demanded as he began to shove the humans in that direction.

"Fine, you say 'run,' then," he huffed, still shoving them past him. When it was just him and Angel, he reached out and took her hand, "Ready?"

She glanced over at him, nodding, "Always."

He grinned, squeezing her hand as she dropped the wall, the two of them turning to run to the door, dashing past it and rejoining the others in the next room. He let out a little laugh as the door closed behind them, trapping the spider on the other side, "Oh, there we go!" he cheered, "Safe and sound."

The words had only just left his mouth when Courtney screamed, a spider that was already in the room had launched itself right at her…

Chapter Text

Before Angel could even throw up a shield to block Courtney from the spider's attack, the girl had pulled something out of her pack and sprayed it at the spider, causing it to leap away from her with a squeal and a shudder before collapsing to the ground.

"Courtney," Clara ran over to her, checking on the girl.

"What was that?" Tailor gaped at the girl, then what was left of the spider as MK9 trundled over to begin scanning it.

Courtney showed her the spray bottle she was holding, basic cleaning solution, "Kills 99 percent of all known germs," she smirked. She'd brought it with her, along with some paper towels, in case she actually DID get sick this time in the flying box. Call her disruptive, but she did respect other people's homes, if she made a mess in their box it was only right that she be able to clean it up herself or, if she was genuinely feeling ill, bring something with her that they could use instead.

"Good stuff, Courtney," the Doctor moved over, "Just don't try that at home, ok?"

"You alright?" Clara asked the girl, checking her suit to make sure the spider hadn't damaged it or hurt her.

"I'm fine," Courtney nodded, though she did appear a little ill as she observed the Doctor flashing the sonic on the remains of the spider, connecting it with MK9 for further analysis.

Angel moved over to the Doctor's side, he and Tailor crouched down…her daughter now poking the spider with a pencil she'd grabbed off the desk of photos. She could hear Lundvik behind her, asking Henry what had happened and why he wasn't arming the bombs, but right now SHE was more concerned about the thing on the ground.

"How did a germ manage to grow that large?" she asked.

The Doctor and Tailor looked up at her, the Doctor appearing a bit startled, "How'd you know?" he asked, he'd only JUST gotten the results from the sonic and he was fairly sure she hadn't gotten a feeling about it, he could usually sense it off her when she had.

Angel laughed lightly, resting a hand on his shoulder, "If the spray kills 99 percent of germs and it dealt with that…" she nodded at the spider, "Wouldn't that mean it's a germ?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut with a grin and a nod.

"That's brilliant, mum," Tailor beamed, getting up and half-hugging her mother from the side. Sometimes her father, and even herself to an extent, got so caught up in trying to find the scientific explanation that they missed the obvious clues. She knew her mother had struggled in the past with feeling as though she wasn't as clever as a Time Lady ought to be, but her mother was clever in her own way.

"This is incredible," the Doctor glanced back at the spider-germ, "You're right about the size of it, it's like a badger!"

Clara, however, didn't seem as impressed or excited as the Time Lords, "Doctor, it's not really a germ, is it?"

"Scanners indicate a prokaryotic unicellular life form with non-chromosomal DNA," MK9 announced, trying to be helpful.

The Doctor patted the dog on the head as he stood, "Which, as you and me know…well, not you and me," he gestured at the humans, "Well, you, certainly," he added towards his girls, "You and me, yes, this IS a germ."

Courtney shifted uncomfortably, moving closer to Clara, "I'm scared, Miss."

It was one thing when it was just a giant spider, that she could handle, it was just big. But a germ? A real actual germ that had grown that big? It was disgusting and…and well, she may not pay a LOT of attention in class but she knew enough to know that germs were supposed to be super super small and that there were always thousands of them…

"Ok," Clara nodded, putting an arm around Courtney's shoulder in comfort.

"You alright, Lundvik?" Angel asked as the woman wandered over to them.

The blonde seemed half in shock as she leaned against the wall near the small group, her gaze on the two men in her crew as they spoke quietly off to the side. She shook her head, "Duke," she murmured, "He'd just had a grand-daughter. Elina. She was his first. He was my teacher. He taught me how to fly. We were both given the sack on the same day," she let out a long breath, "He could have ended up like that suit, couldn't he?" she looked at the Time Lords, "If you hadn't stopped that creature."

Angel gave her a sad nod, her expression grim, "It didn't happen though," she reminded the woman.

Lundvik nodded, mute, still feeling the weight of what could have been. She closed her eyes tightly, another thought striking her. She had sent Henry off as well, and given how he had appeared with Angel…it was likely he had been in danger too. She could have lost both men had it not been for these strangers and their odd abilities. If they could save her men, perhaps they could save this mission and help them figure out what was going on.

"Which way to the Mare Fecunditatis?" the Doctor asked, his arm moving over Angel's shoulders, squeezing it in thanks for how she had helped the humans when he hadn't. Even though it happened so frequently, he would never get used to it and how much of an actual angel she was, his good luck charm. Hopefully that charm would hold strong and they could deal with whatever had happened to the moon and fix everything.

He tried to focus on that, on the relief of her saving a life, instead of the jolt of fear that always flew through him when she would suddenly disappear when her feelings and sensations told her another was in danger. She was there, she was safe, her and Tailor.

Courtney, however, cut in, "Please can I go home now?" she looked to the adults, "I'm really…I'm really sorry, but I'd like to go home."

Angel gave the girl a gentle smile, stepping towards her to take her hands, "You don't ever have to apologize," she told the girl, "This can be a bit much for anyone and I'm very proud of how you've handled it so far. You're a remarkably smart girl Courtney, very brave and very quick," she squeezed her hands and eyed her a moment, "Maybe you just need to find something to direct all your disruptive energy into, to make it productive instead?"

"Like what?" Courtney frowned though she felt an odd warmth in her stomach for the woman's words. So many of her teachers wrote her off because of how she acted in class, how the other students followed her lead, how she brought up things that didn't make sense and just wanted explanations the teachers never gave her. To have someone, even the school dinner lady, saying she wasn't a lost cause, it almost made up for the caretaker saying she wasn't special.

Angel smiled, tilting her head to the side, "Well, you're charismatic, energetic, passionate, and you're not afraid to stand up to authority so you can be heard…I've seen how the students follow after you," she remarked, "Maybe become someone worth following."

Courtney fell silent, considering that, considering how much of her own thoughts the woman had echoed. She didn't ASK the other kids to do what she did or egg her on or follow her lead, they just did. She hadn't really thought of herself as any of those words Angel had used, charismatic or any of those other things. But the more she thought on it...the more she could see it. She had a lot of friends, they all liked her, she had 'that personality' as she heard her parents say a few times. She never got tired of things and she could argue with the best of them, that was being energetic and passionate right? And standing up to authority? Wanting them to HEAR her? Wanting them to hear what her friends and the other kids had to say? She did that all the time, maybe not in the best way but she DID it…

Huh, maybe she was a leader.

But it was ok for even leaders to get scared right? To want to go home?

"It's 100 percent ok," Angel spoke, answering her unspoken question, "Everyone needs help sometimes. No one can be an expert at everything," she purposefully ignored the Doctor's pointed cough behind her, "That's why presidents and Prime Ministers have cabinets and councils and people they trust to help them out."

"And right now, we'll help you out," Tailor agreed, "We can't just leave and go back to Coal Hill," she told the girl apologetically, "But Aunt Idris can keep you safe till we're done, right dad?"

The Doctor nodded, "Pit stop to the TARDIS."

~8~

The Doctor led the way across the moon's surface, hand in hand with Angel, and heading towards the shuttle, towards the TARDIS. They would have had to go in that direction anyway, now that the bombs had not been armed as Lundvik had instructed, the trio of astronauts would have had to go back to set them. It was a good thing that Lundvik seemed to realize there was a genuine threat to them out there and had ordered her two partners to go with them instead of leaving anyone back at the settlement. There was strength and safety in numbers and so they had ALL gone. The Time Lords ahead, with Tailor, Clara, and Courtney behind, MK9 rolling along beside his Mistress, with the astronauts behind them at the rear.

Clara glanced at Courtney and Tailor, the two conversing a few feet away, before she stepped a bit faster and up to the Doctor's side so he was in between her and Angel, "Ok," she began, "This is dangerous now."

The Doctor snorted, "It was dangerous before. Everything's dangerous if you want it to be."

Angel nodded, "It's like I told your Mr. Pink," she agreed, "You could choke eating a chip. Or trip down the stairs. Or not look when crossing the road…" she trailed off at that one, feeling a sense of foreboding about it. She'd felt it before, when speaking to Danny about the dangers on Earth, but it was a bit stronger now. She couldn't help but feel like it was something very important to be aware of, that the strength creeping into the feeling meant it was looming in the near future.

She would have to call the family and tell them to be extra careful crossing roads for a while, just to be safe.

"It's no way to live your life," the Doctor continued, "Tell her. You're supposed to be teaching her."

"Look, I have a duty of care, ok?" Clara huffed at him, "You know what that is?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "Course I know what a duty of care is."

"He IS the Doctor," Angel remarked, it was in his name that he had a duty of care. Though his care extended further than just his family or students, but to everyone he met, within reason though. She doubted he would hold true to that sentiment when Daleks or Cybermen or Kovarian…or River Song…were involved. But he cared so much about other people, even those he'd only just met, it was quite silly to ask him if he knew what a duty of care was. Though she would let it slide for Clara, the girl was quite stressed this trip.

"What are you suggesting? She's fine. What are you," he glanced back at Courtney, calling out to her, "35?"

Courtney gave him an odd look, "Fifteen. Like her," she nodded at Tailor.

"Actually, 405," Tailor remarked, though she felt she looked more 16 than 15, but that was neither here nor there.

"What?" Courtney looked at her as they reached the shuttle, "How?"

"Alien," Tailor shrugged, "We age pretty slow."

She didn't bother to add on that there was a point where they stopped aging, that was a little more than needed to be said.

"Here we are," Angel smiled as they made it into the cargo hold of the shuttle, the TARDIS sitting there, just fine, not a germ-spider in sight. She walked over to the door, pushing them open to let Courtney in, Tailor and Clara remaining outside for the moment with MK9.

The Doctor pointed a warning finger at Courtney as the girl took her helmet off, "Now, don't touch anything."

"You got any games?" the girl asked.

"Oh, don't be so stupid!"

"My love," Angel gave him a warning look, before she turned to Courtney, "We don't have any here in the console room. But if you ask Sissy nicely, I'm sure she'd pull up the game cupboard for you to search through."

Courtney just gave her an odd look for that, and pulled out her phone instead, content to play games on it, "Can I get reception up here?"

The Doctor didn't even bother to answer as he led Angel out of the TARDIS and back into the cargo hold, able to see Lundvik, Henry, and Duke off to the side, working on setting the nuclear devices.

Clara frowned when she saw the Doctor shutting the door behind them, locking it to keep Courtney in so she couldn't wander out, "Why are you shutting her in? We don't really need to stay, do we?" she'd been hoping that the Time Lords had just said what they had so the other astronauts wouldn't do anything, clearly she'd been wrong.

"We do," Tailor told her Aunt.

"But why?" Clara shook her head, "It's not some big mystery you need to solve. The answer's obvious, isn't it? The moon doesn't break up."

"What makes you say that?" Angel looked at her, a little concerned, though not from her question but by how much Clara seemed to want to leave. She knew Clara could get a bit impatient near the end of an adventure, especially when she had a date with Mr. Pink planned. But she would always tell her about it so she could be more precise with the landings so it wasn't a date. The only other thing she could think of was Courtney being there as well. Clara was usually so eager and happy to go on trips with them, not wanting it to end just as it had begun.

It reminded her, just a bit, of the Ponds, of how they had begun to react to the trips later in their time together. Sooner or later the travelling and the adventures began to wear on humans. For as much as they always claimed they wanted to stay forever, something always seemed to come up that made them change their minds or they just began to miss their normal lives, began to feel that desire to live their lives on Earth instead of rushing about everywhere else. With Amy and Rory, they would pop in from time to time, usually trying to make the time between visits longer and longer, so they could settle more. 'Weaning them off us,' the Doctor had called it. They'd realized it was upsetting to the Ponds though, to Amy especially, to constantly be waiting to hear the wheezing of the TARDIS, to worry endlessly the longer they didn't appear that something had happened to them.

But they also just couldn't cut their companions off suddenly. The Doctor had learned from Sarah Jane not to do that, how it made it so much harder to go from all that splendor to ordinary life.

They were trying something different with Clara, meeting up every week for her or whenever she asked them to, meeting on her schedule, and had promised each other they would only stop when she asked them to. Because it would mean SHE was ready to let go, she was ready to start her life on Earth. No lingering waiting to hear the TARDIS to hold her back, no sudden jarring loss of splendor, parting on good terms with no bad feelings. Rose had been lost, torn away from them, Martha had experienced such a trauma after the Master, Donna had been forced to stop the adventures, and the Ponds lost as well though they had been trying to make that transition easier and weren't able to see if it helped or not.

They would be sad to part with Clara, to only see her on the holidays with the rest of the family. They would never feel ready to lose a Companion, even if that loss was for a good and happy and positive reason. But it was up to Clara, when she felt ready to say goodbye to the adventures they would step back and let her go, no matter how their hearts would break, what mattered to them was their Companion's happiness and well-being.

She couldn't help but feel like there were more and paths springing up that could lead to Clara leaving from something negative and hurtful than because she had chosen it for herself and her happiness. She shook her head lightly to cast off the thoughts, she would do all she could to make sure their time with Clara continued to be positive and safe. This one, it seemed, would start with making sure Courtney was safe at all times.

Though it appeared her question only caused Clara's frown to deepen, for Angel to be questioning it was something completely different than the Doctor wanting to solve a puzzle, "Because I've been in the future, and the moon is still there. I think. You know the moon is still there, right?"

"Maybe it isn't the moon," the Doctor shrugged, "Maybe it's a hologram.

"Or a big painting," Tailor joined in, "A special effect."

"A completely different moon," Angel suggested.

"But you would know," Clara insisted.

"We would?" the Doctor asked with a hum.

Clara gave him a look, "If the moon fell to bits in 2049, somebody would've mentioned it. It would have come up in conversation. So it doesn't break up. So the world doesn't end. So, let's just get in the TARDIS and go."

"A giant Cyberman once walked through Victorian London," Angel remarked, "Not a word of it can be found in most records on Earth. Hardly any records, really. No one mentioned it, it never came up in conversation, it still happened."

"Yeah, but that was one town, this would affect the entire planet."

"Clara," the Doctor sighed in a way that told her some sort of long-winded rant was about to come her way, "There are some moments in time that we simply can't see. Not even Angel can see everything, yet. There are these little eye-blinks. They don't look the same as other things. They're not clear. They're fuzzy, they're grey. Little moments in which big things are decided. And this is one of them."

Clara cut in, holding a hand up to stop him, and turned to Tailor, "In normal words?"

Tailor laughed, "Sometimes we land in the middle of a decision happening," she tried to simplify it, "And we can't see what happens because it hasn't been decided yet. There are too many possible futures for us to see what's coming, not even Mum would get a clear look."

Angel had to nod at that, there were so many people on Earth and each of them would have a different decision in terms of what to do about the moon, it muddled the future. She could usually see or get a solid glimpse of the future when it was things closer to what she was dealing with. Larger scale things were more unpredictable and the more people involved in those decisions, the harder it was to see clearly.

"Whatever decision is coming it's going to happen here and now," the Doctor continued, "Which very much sounds as though it's up to us."

"We can't leave yet, Clara," Angel added, "Sorry."

"None of you are going anywhere," Lundvik strode over to them, "This is the last shuttle, these are the last nuclear bombs. We're the last chance for Earth, and you're staying to help us."

The Time Lords glanced at each other, Clara joining them, as they decided to keep quiet about the fact that they hadn't been talking about taking the shuttle back to Earth.

"Decision made," the Doctor murmured.

"Yeah," Clara sighed, not pleased.

She was sure she would have had much more interest in this adventure, want to see it through, see what was happening to the moon, if it wasn't for the fact that her worlds had completely collided and one of her students was locked away in the TARDIS. She couldn't enjoy this trip, she was too worried about Courtney and keeping her safe. The TARDIS and the travelling, they were her escape from all the responsibilities and duties of her life on Earth. Right now her responsibilities were right there with her, it put rather a large damper on everything.

~8~

Inside the TARDIS, Courtney looked up as the box groaned around her, sounding almost warning, and slowly lowered her phone from where she was taking selfies. She reached out, about to touch one of the controls now that she was bored again, only for it to shock her with a bit of static.

"Hey!" she huffed, getting the distinct feeling that the box had done it on purpose, that it could understand her.

Well, maybe it could, if that Angel lady could hear it talking in her head then the box had to be able to communicate in some way.

She let out a long suffering sigh and plopped down on the comfy armchair, crossing her arms.

SO boring!

~8~

The group of travelers stood at the edge of the survey area the Mexicans had begun to utilize, examining their sampling equipment as well, MK9 taking samples of the soil for extra measure.

"Well, at least there's no broken water filtration systems," Angel remarked, "This won't be a repeat of Bowie Base One."

The Doctor was silent, he knew she was trying to make him feel better about the situation, narrowing it down through the less pleasant catastrophes this could be to show the situation wasn't as terrible as they feared. And while it was a small comfort to know they weren't going to be dealing with the remains of the Mexicans as infected enemies trying to convert them all…it was still unsettling to him to think back on that adventure. He had only just realized the Vortex had not left Angel months before that trip and to see her lose such control, to have the Vortex take her over to correct the timelines, to recall the pain she'd been in after it was over…because of his own actions…he would do anything to keep THAT from repeating.

He looked over when he felt a gentle hand on his arm to see Angel giving him an apologetic, though also understanding, look. She never blamed him, for the things he did, for the wrongs he committed. She always found some way to look past his shortcomings and see something in him worth believing in. Perhaps that was why he was often so hard on himself, because no one else would hold him as accountable as he felt he should be.

As always though, Angel was there to pull him out of the darkness, even if that darkness was just his own thoughts.

"That is a positive," he spoke, agreeing with the sentiment, before sighing, "But it won't mean much if we can't figure out what is killing the moon."

"How can the moon die, though?" Clara frowned.

"Everything, all things, must die," Angel murmured, glancing at Clara, "You saw it, Clara. The end of the Universe, one tiny little planet left. It wasn't just one we happened to stop on, others were either destroyed or died off."

Clara fell silent at that, she hadn't really considered what it meant to be at the end of the Universe. The Time Lady in her memories had been uncomfortable, feeling like it was wrong to have gone that far. But she hadn't really stopped to think about what it meant for where they landed, for the fact that they had been able to land anywhere at all that far into the future. What HAD happened to the other planets?

"Can we save it?" Henry asked, shifting on his feet and looking around, not feeling at all safe being so exposed on the surface of the Moon. Those creatures had attacked him out in the open, he'd rather be in the settlement with doors and objects around to defend himself with.

"That would depend on what's killing it, wouldn't it?" Tailor glanced at her father from where she'd been examining MK9's results for affirmation, smiling when he nodded, "Good thing we have a Doctor around," she quipped, bumping her hip into his with a laugh.

Lundvik, however, was serious, looking down into the small crater the space was set up in, her eyes trained on three masses of cobwebs near some large cracks in the Moon's crust, even from a distance she could see the tell-tale signs of spacesuits against the webbing, "There are the other three."

She led the way down to the three cocoons, watching as the Doctor scanned them as well, MK9 about to try and use his laser to cut through the webbing when Tailor shook her head, it wouldn't help them now and it felt too much like disturbing their final resting places.

"Is it those germ things, then?" Clara wondered, "Are they like cockroaches? Is it…is it an infestation?"

The Doctor was silent, looking at the results on the sonic.

"Is it?" Duke repeated, growing as nervous as Henry was with the thought there could be more.

"We've only seen a few of them," the Doctor pointed out, "It would take an awful lot more to cause the moon to put on 1.3 billion tons…" he was suddenly jerked back by Angel grabbing his suit and pulling when one of the spider-germs appeared right next to one of the spacesuits and tried to jump at him. They moved to the side and the spider-germ went flying past them, landing on the ground and scuttling off, into another crack just as MK9 tried to fire his laser at it, missing it.

"So a bit more than a few, now," Tailor spoke, a bit shaken by its sudden appearance and grimacing in the direction of the other crack, taking a step closer to her dog, "You don't think more of them are down there, do you?"

"Safe betting says yes," the Doctor huffed, straightening, not appreciating when things tried to launch themselves at his face. The only thing he ever wanted near his face was Angel's lips.

'Feeling's mutual, my love,' he heard her soft giggle in his head.

"Sunlight," Clara said suddenly.

"Sunlight?" Lundvik looked at her.

She nodded, "If they're germs. My nan says it's the best disinfectant there is."

The Doctor nodded as well, "Shine your light down there," he instructed the astronauts, not trusting how the critters would react to the Vortex.

"I think I'M going to be sick now," Tailor blanched as the astronauts shinned their torches at the crack and all they could see was squirming black masses and a number of their red knees. It was definitely an infestation of some sort if that amount of germs was in every crack on the Moon's surface. Not even Angel moving to her side and rubbing her arm could make her feel better this time.

"Where have they come from?" Henry grimaced, pulling back slightly, not wanting to get too close, reminded too much of the last time one had launched out of it at him.

"Maybe they've been there all the time?" the Doctor mused, glancing at Angel for any sort of confirmation, anything her sensing might be telling her, but she was just frowning down at the germs, "It's warmish. They're multiplying, feeding, evolving."

"We should get to more cover," Duke murmured.

The Doctor, however, frowned, looking around for something before heading over to another, larger fissure.

"Doctor, if the moon breaks up, it'll kill us all in about forty five minutes," Lundvik stated grimly.

"43 minutes 39 seconds," Angel corrected almost automatically, before offering the humans an apologetic grimace.

"Unless something else is going on," the Doctor mumbled, pulling his yoyo out and swinging it down into the fissure, pulling it back to see it was dripping with some sort of liquid.

"You're sure this isn't like Mars?" Tailor glanced at her parents, more concerned now. She'd read about that adventure in her father's journal, that was one particular adventure she would never want to experience for herself.

"Positive," Angel reassured her, watching as the Doctor dripped a bit of the liquid onto MK9's scanner.

"That can't be water, can it?" Henry frowned, unsure what else it could be.

"Negative," MK9 announced, "Scanners do not indicate water."

"What is it then?" Tailor asked.

"Scanners confirm: amniotic fluid."

"Oh, eww," she grimaced.

The Doctor, however, nodded as though it made perfect sense, "The stuff that life comes from."

Angel glanced at the yoyo, a deep frown on her face, and over to the fissure, before she focused on the ground beneath her feet. She couldn't help but think back to the Signora in Venice for some reason, the waters of the canal being infested with thousands of 'husbands' for her converted girls. But the fluid on the yoyo wasn't water, and these spider-germs weren't carnivorous fish-vampires. One thing that was the same though, was a feeling of foreboding she was getting, the sense that something much larger was coming.

"I've got to go down there," the Doctor spoke, cutting into her thoughts.

"Dad, you can't be serious," Tailor scrunched her face in disgust, half-crouched down as she worked to wipe the fluid off her dog's scanner, turning to eye the yoyo, just picturing her father covered in it. It was gross!

"Doctor…" even Lundvik seemed against it.

"Back to your shuttle," the Doctor waved her off, "Get your bombs ready. You," he pointed to Clara, "Get to the TARDIS. Get safe. Angel, get them all safe," he looked at his Mate, glancing to his daughter and back, "I will be back."

Angel sighed, knowing there was no stopping him, and stepped towards him, handing him the cleaning spray Clara had taken from Courtney and strapped to her belt for extra protection. She gave him a pointed look, "I'll expect you back in 8 minutes and 13 seconds," she warned him, "And not a moment later."

He gave her a wink, knowing it was her way of letting him know he'd be safe, that she didn't sense any immediate danger in his plan, and took the spray before he jumped right down into the fissure.

"Doctor!" Clara shouted, but it was too late

Duke shifted in place, "He…he WILL be back right?"

Clara sighed, turning to face them, "If Angel says so, I suppose he will."

She'd learned not to bet against a psychic like Angel. If the woman wasn't freaking out or using the Vortex to pull him back, he must at least be safe for now.

~8~

The small group had only made it about halfway to the shuttle when the comms. crackled and Courtney's voice came out, "Miss? Come in."

"Courtney?" Clara frowned, about to ask how she was able to contact them when she was sure the Doctor had told her not to touch anything, when she recalled Courtney had a spacesuit of her own with a comm. set up to connect to theirs.

"I'm bored. When are you coming back?"

Tailor giggled, "She sounds like Dad when you're not in the same room as him, Mum," she nudged Angel as she came up beside her, MK9 not far away.

Angel could only laugh and shake her head at how true it was. At least that had started to seep into the Doctor's mind during his amnesia, if Amy's talk of the earache the man had given her when she'd been visiting Jack during that whole Miracle Day debacle was anything to go by. He was even worse in this body. It was almost like, unless there was some danger he had to investigate to keep her safe, he never wanted her out of his sight.

"We're on our way," Clara reassured her student, "What you doing?"

"Putting some pictures on Tumblr."

Clara gaped, she could almost imagine pictures of them all in spacesuits and the surface of the moon and the space shuttles and settlements flooding the web, "No! Courtney, don't put any photos on Tumblr!"

Lundvik gave a small laugh, "My granny used to put things on Tumblr."

"Don't worry, Clara," Angel called out, "Sissy will filter her photos. Anything she couldn't find off the internet won't make it onto her page."

Clara had only just let out a breath of relief when the ground beneath them began to shake once more, causing them all to stagger into each other, grabbing onto arms and suits for balance. It lasted longer than the last quake, and so they were hesitant to straighten up for a few moments after it stilled.

"Everyone alright?" Angel looked around just to be sure they were fine, MK9 had tumbled onto his side but Tailor was quick to right him.

"Was that where we landed?" Clara asked, pointing to where the shuttle was resting, now on the opposite side of a ravine, "It looks so different."

"The quake just shifted some of the surface," Tailor frowned…when another quake hit, while less powerful it did come with new cracks forming along the Moon's crust. Tailor gasped suddenly, her eyes wide, her hands resting on the front of her helmet as though she were trying to cover her mouth but couldn't.

"What?" Clara spun to her, concerned, "What is it?"

"I'm turning into dad!" the girl looked startled, which only served to make Angel and Clara laugh as they realized what she meant. He, too, would often say things and then have it get much worse. Her comment about the shifting surface, and then the surface shifting into more cracks.

"The shuttle!" Henry shouted, pointing ahead.

"It's going down!" Duke warned, and in fact the cracks were getting so bad that part of the top edge of the ravine began to crumble, the shuttle falling right over the edge and into it.

"Courtney!" Clara gasped, "Angel!" she spun to the girl.

"She's fine, Clara, she's fine," Angel rushed to reassure her, taking her hand, "The moment Sissy senses danger, she'll phase out and come find us. I promise you, Courtney is fine."

"We aren't though," Lundvik cut in, "We're going to have to take cover. We're running out of oxygen."

"Don't even think about it, my love," Angel said suddenly, stepping to the side and tugging Clara with her to reveal the Doctor had appeared behind them, attempting to hug Angel from behind despite the fact he was absolutely covered in the amniotic fluid.

He, despite Angel's light snuff, was grinning near maniacally, "Today's the day, humankind."

~8~

Clara had managed to wait just long enough for them all to reach the settlement and get inside, taking off their helmets, before she turned frantic at not seeing the TARDIS there waiting for them, "Angel, the last time the TARDIS ended up adrift and had to 'find you' lot again, it ended up on the wrong side of the planet. Courtney is my responsibility, I need to know where she is."

"She's completely safe," Angel promised, crossing her hearts, "Sissy would never let anything happen to her."

"Call her," Tailor suggested from where she was taking a closer look at MK9's scanner to make sure she'd gotten all the fluid off him, "You have her number right?"

"No," Clara sighed, "No, no. Of course I don't have her phone number."

"Well, what about the school?" the Doctor asked as he and Angel tried to wipe the fluid off his suit, cleaning him up as much as possible, "Does the secretary have her number?"

"I can't. The secretary hates me. She thinks I gave her a packet of TENA Lady for Secret Santa. Look. Courtney's posting stuff on Tumblr. Doesn't that know where you are?"

"I don't know," Lundvik spoke, "I'm not a historian."

The Doctor rolled his eyes and held out a hand to Clara, "Phone," he called, sonicing it quickly once she handed it over, aiming it at a monitor fixed on the wall and bringing up the image of Courtney in the console room for them to see.

"Courtney!" Clara gasped, relieved.

"Yeah?" the girl asked, not seeming at all perturbed at being in a lost TARDIS, almost as though she hadn't even realized it had taken off with her in it things were so calm.

Angel smiled, it was just like the old girl to take care not to worry a child within her.

"Are you ok?" Clara asked.

That just made Courtney frown in confusion, "Er, I'm fine. What's up?"

"Good, see, she's fine," the Doctor huffed, "She's not the problem. I know what the problem is."

"What is it?" Lundvik turned to him.

"It's a rather big problem."

Tailor sighed, shaking her head, "Any day now dad."

He pointed a warning finger at her before sighing, "Well, I had a little hypothesis. The seismic activity, the surface breaking up, the variable mass, the increase in gravity, the fluid. I scanned what's down there," he moved over to MK9, flashing his sonic at the dog's head to transfer data, and soon a 3d Hologram of the moon was shining before them from one of the dog's projectors, "The moon isn't breaking apart. Well, actually, it IS breaking apart, and rather quickly. We've got about an hour and a half…" he pointed almost automatically at Angel, anticipating exactly what she did next.

"87 minutes, 12 seconds," she answered promptly, reaching out to grab his finger and lower his hand though she held onto it, linking their fingers instead.

"Still, THAT isn't the problem. It's not infested."

"What are they, then, those things?" Courtney called out from the monitor, following along rather impressively.

"Bacteria," he stated, "Tiny, tiny bacteria living on something very, very big. Something that weighs about 1.3 billion tons. Something that's living. Something growing."

"Growing?" Clara frowned.

"It's an egg," Angel breathed, before the Doctor even changed the hologram to show what looked like a miniature dragon of some sort curled up within the moon's crust. That part of her vision made sense now! Well that was a relief, for a moment she thought she'd gone as mad as the Doctor.

"Ooh, it's so cute!" Tailor nearly squealed though it came out as more a quiet, if excited, sigh.

"That lives under the moon?" Courtney squinted, trying to see it clearer.

"No," the Doctor shook his head, "That doesn't live under the moon. That is the moon."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lundvik demanded.

"As my lovely Mate already told you, it's an egg," he looked at the humans, "The moon isn't breaking apart. The moon is hatching."

"Uh…what?" Duke shook his head, thrown.

"But that's impossible," Henry agreed.

"Is it?" Angel looked at the men, "You've said it yourselves, space exploration and study simmered down quite a lot, if you didn't keep studying the moon, how would you know it's not an egg?"

"Has it, er, has it always been an egg?" Clara asked, not sure what to make of it.

"Yes," the Doctor nodded, "For a hundred million years or so…"

Angel laughed as he pointed his other finger at her, "102,679,512 years," she stated, "Give or take a decade or two."

"Or none," Tailor teased, knowing what seemed like random numbers to others were actually likely pin-point accurate if it came from her mother. While the moon was technically 4.47 billion years old, apparently it had only been fertilized around one hundred million years ago and had been growing life ever since.

Angel smiled, looking back at the hologram, "It's just been taking a while to be born," she could sympathize with that, while human pregnancies took about 9 months, and some animals even longer, her own had been 3 years. This put that to shame.

"Ok," Clara shook her head, still trying to grasp what was being said, "So the moon has never been the moon?"

"No, no, no, no," the Doctor corrected, "It's never been dead. It's just taking a long time to come alive."

"Is it a chicken?" Courtney asked.

Tailor snorted, "Does it look like a chicken?"

"I'm just saying, for a chicken to have laid an egg that big…"

"Courtney, don't spoil the moment," the Doctor huffed.

"She has a point," Clara cut in, "I mean, what IS it? What species?"

"Unknown," MK9 answered, having run through a list of alien species in his databanks and come up with nothing that matched.

"I dunno," even the Doctor admitted, "I think that it's unique. I think that's the only one of its kind in the universe. I think that that is utterly beautiful, though, not AS beautiful as other things I've seen," he glanced at his Mate and daughter, earning an eyeroll and hug from Tailor, "But still up there."

"The miracle of life," Angel mused as she observed the hologram.

"How do we kill it?"

And, of course, the beautiful moment had to be spoiled by a human, though not the one the Doctor had originally warned.

"Why'd you want to kill it?" Clara turned to Lundvik, horrified at the idea.

"It's a little baby!" Courtney agreed.

"It's defenseless," Angel frowned at her.

Tailor nodded as she added, "It's just sleeping, it hasn't done anything but be born…"

Lundvik ignored the women, turning to the Doctor as though he would be the one to help her, to agree with her, "Doctor, how do we kill it?"

"Kill the moon?" the Doctor scoffed, turning the hologram off, "Kill the moon. Well, you have about a hundred of the best man-made nuclear weapons, if they still work. If that's what you want to do."

"Will that do it?"

"Affirmative," MK9 answered, the numbers and math already crunched.

The Doctor's expression grew hard hearing the confirmation to his own thoughts, "A hundred nuclear bombs set off right where we are, right on top of a living, vulnerable creature? It'll never feel the sun on its back."

Lundvik glared at him, unamused, "And then what? Will the moon still break up? You said…you said we had an hour and a half or 87 minutes or whatever…"

"If the thing inside an egg is dead, there's nothing to break open the shell," Tailor shook her head, disgusted.

"The gravity of the little dead baby will pull all the pieces back together again," the Doctor crossed his arms, equally as disgusted as his daughter, perhaps even more so being the father he was, "Of course, it won't be very pretty. You'd have an enormous corpse floating in the sky. You might have some very difficult conversations to have with your kids."

"I don't have any kids," Lundvik said simply.

"I do," Duke murmured, uneasy now, "Grandkids too."

"And me," Henry added.

"What's worse, a dead chicken or millions of dead kids on Earth?" Lundvik snapped at them.

Clara glared at her, "Stop," she ordered the woman, "Right, listen," she looked at the humans, knowing they were the biggest threat right now with their access to those weapons, and, with Courtney there, this was NOT a conversation she wanted the girl to have to witness, this was NOT how she wanted the girl to see HER, not defending an innocent life, "This is a…this is a life. I mean, this must be the biggest life in the universe…"

"It's not even been born," Courtney reminded them.

"It is killing people," Lundvik argued, "It is destroying the Earth."

"You cannot blame a baby for kicking!" Clara shouted.

Lundvik rounded on her, "Let me tell you something. You want to know what I took back from being in space? Look at the edge of the Earth. The atmosphere, that is paper thin. That is the only thing that saves us all from death. Everything else, the stars, the blackness. That's all dead. Sadly, that is the only life any of us will ever know."

"There's life here," Courtney cut in, "There's life just next door!"

"Look, when you've grown up a bit, you'll realize that everything doesn't have to be nice. Some things are just bad. Anyway, you ran away. It's none of your business."

Courtney frowned at the woman, before taking a breath and doing what Angel had said she was good at, standing up to authority so she could be heard, "I want to come back."

If she wasn't going to be taken seriously because she wasn't physically right there, then she'd go there.

"Courtney, you'll be safer where you are…" Clara tried to argue with the girl, but even she could see the determined glint the girl always had when she was about to ignore everyone else around her trying to tell her what to do.

Lundvik turned her back on them, lifting the case in her hand and begining to tap on it.

"Look, I'm sorry," Courtney told Clara, "I want to come back, ok? I want to help."

Angel smiled at her, "That's the best reason to do anything," she told the girl, "Go over to the blue bookshelf, there should be a few DVDs on it. Pick any of them and slip it into the console, Sissy will bring you right to us."

She could work out why the TARDIS hadn't landed yet, with how Lundvik was acting, being ON the Moon wasn't as safe as it should have been. The DVD would trigger commands and programs to bring the TARDIS to them in spite of that.

"Right," Courtney nodded, doing so.

"And make sure you hang on to the console," Tailor added.

"Otherwise the TARDIS will leave you behind," the Doctor called.

"She didn't need to know that, dad."

Clara shook her head and turned to the Time Lords, feeling torn about Courtney's decision. On the one hand, she'd be safer in the TARDIS away from the crumbling moon or hatching moon or whatever the hell was happening. On the other hand, though, she would feel better if Courtney was right there within arms' reach. She took a breath, "So what do we do?" she asked them, "Huh? Doctor, what do we do?"

The Doctor jolted from where he'd been looking at Angel, likely silently communicating, "Nothing."

"What?"

"We don't do anything," he turned to her, "I'm sorry, Clara. I can't help you."

"Of course you can help."

But he shook his head, "Listen, there are moments in every civilization's history in which the whole path of that civilization is decided. The whole future path. Whatever future humanity might have depends upon the choice that is made right here and right now. Now, you've got the tools to kill it. You made them. You brought them up here all on your own, with your own ingenuity. You don't need a Time Lord. Kill it. Or let it live. I can't make this decision for you."

"Yes, you can! Who better qualified to help us decide what to do about an alien than an alien!" Clara huffed, "AND you work for UNIT so don't you dare pull the 'get an earth expert on it' card."

"Clara," Angel moved over to her, putting a gentle hand on her arm, "What he means is we really can't TELL you what to do."

"We're a bit too biased," Tailor reminded her, "Especially mum and dad, seeing as how I'M their alien baby."

"It's not just that," Angel added, "We've fought to let alien offspring live, like the Adipoise. But we've also had to…had to let other alien offspring die away, like the Racnoss. One benign, the other destructive, just in their nature. We don't know what this alien will be."

Clara grew silent, thoughtful, "You can't see it?"

"I know what I feel and I know what I think," Angel told her, "Right now, I'm feeling that something monumental is about to happen, but for whether that's good or bad, and for whom, that's another thing. What is right for some is wrong for others."

"Can't you…pop ahead?" Clara looked at them, "See what happens?"

"I can," the Doctor agreed, hesitant, it wasn't a trick he relied on very much, in fact it was one he tended to avoid for numerous reasons, "Bit of a cheap parlor trick, but there's no guarantee I'd be back in time to tell you before you have to make a decision."

"There's no decision to make," Lundvik cut in, "I'M in charge of this mission. We are using the bombs and stopping this."

"The president," Tailor said suddenly, "Did she give you authorization to use those bombs to destroy an innocent life?"

"We're to use them to annihilate the threat against the human race."

"That baby may not BE a threat," Tailor argued.

"Look, there are five of you humans," the Doctor cut in, "You do your best to make a decision, we'll pop to the future and try to find out what's going on…"

"YOU'LL pop to the future," Angel amended, "I'll stay with Clara and Courtney, you two go on."

"Angel…" the Doctor shook his head.

"Father-daughter bonding moment," she continued, as though she wasn't feeling his unease with her change to the plan.

She knew he'd never leave her alone, trapped without the TARDIS, but this was too important. She needed a way to appeal to him, to go without her, to take a peek, prove a point as he had with Martha so long ago, bringing up time spent with Tailor piloting the TARDIS was one. So long as they didn't set down in the future or leave the vortex, they should be able to search for any indication of what happened to the moon or didn't happen to the moon and pop back. If they were careful. They weren't making the decision for the humans, but they could at least offer what they learned to help make an informed one.

'Really, my love,' she whispered in his mind, 'Does this not tell you what I think will happen?'

Would she really stay there, risk herself or Clara or Courtney if she truly thought they would blow up the moon? She had noticed his faith in humans had been shaken in this body, it was time to remind him of the best of humanity. And she had a feeling it would not let her down.

He let out a long sigh but ultimately nodded, "I don't like this."

"I'll make it up to you later," Angel promised.

"Come on, Tailor," he called to his daughter, the girl giving her mother a tight hug before following him to where the wheezing of the TARDIS was sounding. As soon as it was solid, as soon as Courtney stepped out, Tailor opened the door to allow MK9 in before she and her father followed.

"You're staying with us," Clara murmured to Angel, watching as the old blue box disappeared, "And he's letting you…" she frowned, "Everything is going to be alright, then?"

Angel could only give her a smile.

Chapter Text

Clara wasn't feeling as confident or happy with the situation when, moments later, the room began to shake as another moonquake hit. Angel moved to a small window of the settlement once things were stable, looking out to see germs swarming onto the surface of the moon from new fissures that were created.

"I'm going to detonate the bombs, agreed?" Lundvik spoke, looking to Clara and her partners, "Agreed?"

"Now hold on…" Clara began, when something creaked in a dangerous way.

They had all just spun around in time to see a porthole across the room break, the air about to rush out of the room, when a golden wall sprang up, filling the hole and sealing the air in.

The humans looked back at Angel, her eyes fading from their golden glow even as the shimmering wall held firm, "We're alright," she reassured them.

Clara let out a breath of relief, moving over to Courtney's side and putting an arm around her shoulder, thankful Angel had remained behind with them all, she didn't want to think about what it could have been like if she had gone with the Doctor and Tailor and the porthole burst open. Terrifying to Courtney surely. And that just served to remind her of something else likely to be terrifying, if her student ended up involved in the decision to murder something. She inhaled deeply, turning to Lundvik, "If we let it live, what would happen if the moon wasn't there?"

"Listen, we haven't got time for this…" Lundvik huffed.

"Then we make time," Duke cut in, giving her a firm look. She may be his superior in this mission, but HE taught HER everything she knew, there was a mutual respect there and she would NOT be deciding this without his and Henry's say so. It hit him square in the chest, that reminder that he and Henry were THERE to make this decision with her. If it hadn't been for Angel, both of them likely would have been dead now, leaving the choice just to Lundvik, but they were alive and there and they had a say.

"We all signed up for this," Henry reminded her, "We all decide."

"Or has democracy changed down there?" even Courtney spoke up. The three astronauts before her seemed to have been assigned this mission by America, so it stood to reason that that government was who had the say.

Angel sent the girl a wink for her comment, "Five humans, so there can't be a tie," she offered.

"What about you?" Courtney frowned, looking at Angel.

She smiled a little sadly, "I don't think Lundvik would welcome my vote," she remarked, the way Lundvik looked away confirming her feeling, "I'm not human, I'm an alien. I shouldn't have a say for what happens on the planet of the humans."

Perhaps that was a more eloquent way of phrasing what the Doctor had been trying to say earlier, Clara realized. It wasn't that the planet wasn't his and so he felt no obligation to help it, that was just impossible given all he'd done in the past to save the Earth. It wasn't that he didn't care, it was that Lundvik, as the one with access to the bombs, wouldn't listen. If it didn't come from a human, she wouldn't care.

Here was Angel, protecting them, keeping them safe, an alien helping humans, and Lundvik wouldn't even consider her vote. She supposed that was the tricky thing about having a 'third party' involved. Angel couldn't be unbiased, not with how important Earth was to her but equally in being an alien, neither could the other Time Lords.

"Well that's not right," Courtney defended, "Everyone should have a say, everyone should get a vote."

"Even kids?" Angel asked her, a teasing tone in her voice as she had already included Courtney in the five humans earlier.

"Especially kids," Courtney nodded, firm.

Hmm…kids having a vote, having a say. Maybe she should bring that up at school, maybe she could get enough kids to support her that the headmaster would let them vote on some things. Like…what they want to eat at lunch or clubs they could make or different ways to spend their free periods when it was raining out or something…kids should have a say in SOMETHING in their lives, shouldn't they? If SHE could have a say in saving this alien-chicken-giant-thing, then her friends should be able to say if they wanted chips at lunch!

"I agree," Angel gave her a wink.

"We are ALL discussing this," Clara cut in, giving Lundvik a firm look, daring the woman to argue with her. Whether or not the woman would hear Angel's vote, she WOULD hear her thoughts and opinions. Without the Doctor there, Angel was the next best expert on aliens they had and, with her feelings, her insight would be invaluable. She had learned long ago that sometimes Angel would say something or do something or react to something said and still not know why she did it, or not even notice she had, and it could indicate something about the future. If she kept her attention on Angel, maybe something would come through, some hint about what could happen. The fact that the woman had stayed behind told her that, ultimately, they would be safe, she trusted the Doctor would NEVER leave Angel behind in danger. But it didn't specify what the decision would be, whether they chose to blow up the creature and the Doctor whisked them away to safety or they did not blow up the creature and they flew off in the TARDIS. There was no answer to that and they didn't have time to wait and find out. She shook her head, looking back at Lundvik and the other men, "What would happen if the moon wasn't there?"

She was an English teacher, not a science one and even her travels with the Time Lords hadn't taught her everything. And right now she was a bit too frantic to go digging through her memories to see if one of her echo lives might know.

"I have a physics book in my bag," Courtney offered, pulling her backpack off and digging through it, "There's this thing on gravity?"

"Super," Lundvik deadpanned, "Is there a word search?"

"There would be no tides," Angel began, knowing something of gravity as the pull of it could sometimes affect the TARDISes when travelling outside of the vortex or if they needed to land on the planet from space without dematerializing.

"But we'd survive that, right?" Clara asked, "They've knocked out the satellites. There's no internet, no mobiles. I'd be fine with that."

"Could do with a bit less mobiles," Duke muttered, agreeing with that last part, his kids had been glued to their mobiles growing up, used to drive him up the wall just trying to get them to pay attention during dinners.

Lundvik rolled her eyes, "It's not going to just stop being there, because inside the moon is a gigantic creature forcing its way out. And when it does, which is going to be pretty damn soon, there are going to be huge chunks of the moon heading right for us, like whatever killed the dinosaurs, only ten thousand times bigger."

"But that was stone," Angel countered.

Even Henry nodded his head at her words, "The moon isn't rock and stone like we thought it was."

"It's made of eggshell!" Clara cheered, relieved that all the arguments Lundvik was making were being torn down. Maybe this wasn't as bad as they originally thought it was.

"Oh, God," Lundvik huffed, shaking her head at them as though they were all mental, "Ok, ok, fine. If, by some miracle, the shell isn't too thick, or if it disperses, or if it goes into orbit, whatever, there's still going to be a massive thing there, isn't there, that just popped out. And what the hell do you imagine that is?"

"Loads of things lay eggs," Courtney defended, crossing her arms.

"It's not a chicken!" the woman snapped, recalling the girl's words from earlier.

Courtney gave her such an unimpressed look Angel was sure Queen Victoria would be proud, "I'm not saying it's a chicken. I'm not completely stupid."

"You're not any sort of stupid," Angel defended, "You make an excellent point, Courtney."

"I…do?" Courtney looked at her.

It was then Clara was hit with a distinct feeling of shame that took her a moment to place. But it came to her eventually, that…this was how Courtney always was, her defensive nature, how she spoke without thought, how she questioned everyone. This wasn't anything new or different an attitude from the girl…but…she DID have a very valid point that a number of different species were born from eggs. She was right and she was clever and how many times had the girl been that and no one had noticed or given her the chance to explain her thought process? How many times had they just written her off as being disruptive when she was just trying to be heard, to get her point or question across? She might not be the best at expressing herself, but when teachers shot her down constantly, how else was she going to be heard when they didn't give her the chance to talk?

The girl seemed SO shocked that her words had been heard and that importance had been given to them. Something so small made the girl feel like she'd actually made a difference.

Clara swallowed, taking a moment despite everything to promise herself that, when they returned to Earth, she would hear Courtney out when she disrupted class. Make it a conversation, a debate, a discussion, not just see her talk and assume or force her to be quiet.

"You do," Clara agreed, clearing her throat to get rid of the wobbliness of it, "It's very true."

"Chickens," Henry offered, "Platypus, doves…"

"Alligators," Duke countered, not wanting to actually argue, but feeling they needed to make this fair and comprehensive, "Dinosaurs, cobras…"

"It's an alien," Lundvik reminded them, "It's like that one said," she flung an arm at Angel, "They don't know WHAT it is or could be. For all we know it might be an overgrown exoparasite."

"A what?" Courtney frowned.

"Like a flea. Or a head louse."

"That doesn't look like any species of flea or louse I've ever seen," Angel remarked.

"Yeah," Clara gave Lundvik a hard look, "Were going to have to be a lot more certain than that if we're going to kill a baby."

"Oh, you want to talk about babies?" Lundvik scoffed, "You've probably got babies down there now. You want to have babies?"

"Well, yeah."

"Mr. Pink," Courtney coughed, only to be shushed by Clara.

"Ok," Lundvik nodded, "You imagine you've got children down there on Earth now, right? Grandchildren maybe," she looked over at Henry and Duke for that as well, knowing they DID have those down there, "You want that thing to get out? Kill them all? You want today to be the day life on Earth stopped because you couldn't make an unfair decision? Listen, I don't want to do this. All my life I've dreamed about coming here. But this is how it has to end," she looked at Duke and Henry, who had grown silent and grim, and took that as their support, quickly setting the trigger on the case.

"Oi!" Courtney jerked like she wanted to stop the woman, but Angel put a hand on her arm to stop her.

Lundvik held up a hand, "I've given us an hour," she told them, "There's a cut-out here. If anyone has any bright ideas, or if those two come back in time, that stops it. But once it's pressed, it stays pressed."

"And if they don't come back in time?" Clara glanced at the case as Lundvik set it down.

The woman shrugged, "I didn't expect to survive anyway."

"I'd like to not die," Duke murmured, "I HAVE got kids down there, grandkids, I don't want to not be able to watch them grow up."

Henry could only nod, silent though. If he had to die to save his family, he would, gladly, but that didn't mean he WANTED to die.

Courtney glanced at Angel, "They're going to come back, though, right?"

Angel looked down at her, "I have every faith that they will."

"If the Doctor gets the timing right," Clara muttered, now starting to feel on edge again as she recalled how terrible he was at that. Hopefully Tailor and the old box would help him. And, well, he might be a bit more focused if it meant getting back to his Mate.

"Ok, right," Courtney nodded, "Then we need to make up our minds, in case they're late."

Angel looked around at the five humans, all of them seeming very uncomfortable with the thought of actually needing to decide, "Look at you," she spoke with a small smile, "The best of humanity, right here," she glanced over at Clara and Courtney, "This isn't the first time humans have been in a position to affect their own future, it won't be the last. No matter what happens, life will out. Life always finds a way and humans…you're the most indomitable species I have ever met. If anyone can work out the right decision, it's you."

Clara gave her a weak smile for her words, about to speak, about to admit that she really didn't WANT this choice being put upon them. If they made the wrong decision, she would be burdened with a fifth of that responsibility for the rest of her life, as would Courtney.

Angel seemed to sense that though, moving over to one of the computer consoles, "Even here, standing on the moon, you are not alone," she reminded them, reaching out to push a button to turn on one of the monitors just as the comm. system began to crackle, a voice flooding the room.

"Can anybody hear me?" a man was calling, hazily appearing in the monitor, "Come in, please. Can anybody…"

"Hello Mr. McKean," Angel greeted, "Very nice to meet you."

"How did you…"

Lundvik shoved forward, rushing to the comm. as Angel moved to the side, "This is Lundvik."

"Er…this is ground control," the man cleared his throat.

"Yeah, yeah, I can tell by your haircut. How are things down there?"

"Pretty bad," the man admitted, "Yeah. Pretty bad. Listen, we're patched in to one of the TV satellites. We haven't got long. How are things up there?"

Clara glanced over at Angel, catching the reassuring look on her face as her words came back to her. They weren't alone! The WHOLE of the human race was down there right now! And they could talk to them! It wasn't JUST them alone up here with this decision hanging over them, they could get help. She quickly moved over to Lundvik, half shoving her to the side as she spoke to ground control, "Can we broadcast on this?"

"Who are you?" the man demanded, he'd nearly convinced himself the woman who had first greeted him was a figment of his imagination but no…there really WERE other people up there with the mission.

"School trip. Can we broadcast on this?"

"Well, yes…"

"Do it," Clara ordered, giving Lundvik a firm look till the woman repeated the order, then waiting till the man nodded before she began to speak to the Earth, "Hello, hello. Hello, Earth. We have a terrible decision to make. It's an uncertain decision and we don't have a lot of time. The man who normally helps, well, he may not make it back in time and…and we need to be prepared in case that happens," she swallowed hard, "Right now we're on our own. So, an impossible life verses the future of all mankind. We have 45 minutes to decide. I know this is going to sound mad, but the Moon has never been a moon, a planetary body, it's an egg and right now it's about to hatch. So…we can kill this creature or we can let it live. We don't know what it's going to do, we don't know what's going to happen when it hatches. If it will hurt us, help us, or just leave us alone and what it'll mean once it's gone along with the Moon. We have to decide together. This is the last time we'll be able to speak to you, but you can send us a message. If you think we should kill the creature, turn your lights off. If you think we should take the chance, let it live, leave your lights on. We'll be able to see. Goodnight, Earth."

She stared at the screen for a long while after the transmission ended, before hanging her head and taking a breath. She turned to face the others, "Was that ok?"

"Yeah," Courtney nodded, looking at her teacher with a new appreciation and respect.

"It was brilliant," Angel agreed, moving over to hug Clara from the side, "I don't think the Doctor or I could have said it better."

Clara gave her a weak smile, but shook her head, "This whole thing is mad," she muttered, "We either blow up the Moon and kill that innocent creature, or let it be born and doom the Earth. How is that fair?"

Angel could only give her a sad look, "Sometimes the only choices there are are bad ones, but you still have to choose."

Suddenly a bang sounded, the lights beginning to flicker.

Angel looked down as Courtney nearly jumped into her, actually hugging her around the middle for a moment at the suddenness of the noise, tense as the lights dimmed. She shook her head, "Well this won't do," she said easily, "Courtney, what would you pick if someone said 'stars' or 'sun?'"

Courtney looked at her oddly for that, glancing at Clara as though to ask if the woman had lost her mind to be asking something so weird in the middle of everything. Clara just gave her a nod of urging to answer, 'Um…stars?"

Angel nodded and closed her hand into a fist a moment before throwing it above them where specks of the Vortex began to float up to the ceiling, glowing brightly like stars in the night, making Courtney laugh at the sight, amazed.

"I'm not much a fan of the dark either," she whispered to the girl who seemed a bit embarrassed but also relieved at her words, clearly not wanting to admit her hesitation with the dark either.

"We should go check that out," Duke remarked, not even bothering to ask how the hell the woman had done that. He'd seen her make walls and shields and coverings with that yellow light and if she could somehow make stars too well…that was probably normal by now.

Lundvik nodded in agreement, picking up the trigger case and clutching it carefully as they began to walk down a corridor, trying to find the source of the banging. The floor beneath them shook once more, but the stars that were following them above held firm, glowing brightly and warmly even as the lights began to dim even more.

A brighter golden glow sprang up behind them moments before something exploded in flames from the direction they'd come, holding as they hurried along until they reached another room and shut a door behind them. Clara immediately moved for a porthole in the wall, looking out at the Earth. There was a faint glow of lights from Africa, Asia, and Australia, those areas not as heavily concentrated as Europe or the Americas were, their lights still on though.

The group was silent, watching as time ticked down from 39 minutes to 32…and that was when the lights began to flicker out. It only got worse as the countdown went on, 18 minutes, 5 minutes, less and less…until the entire planet went dark, not a speck of light to be seen.

The world had made its choice.

The sorrow could not be kept out of Courtney's voice if she tried, "Night, night."

Clara couldn't help fidgeting at the sight of the darkened Earth, "Oh, Doctor, where are you?"

"So that's it then?" Duke spoke, his voice gruff.

"We can't risk it all just to be nice," Lundvik defended.

Henry looked over, "Nine seconds left."

"You can't!" Courtney shouted, horrified that this was going to happen.

Clara could hear it, the girl did not even consider they would be killed during this, she just cared about that little baby. Just like SHE cared about Courtney, how she couldn't allow the woman to detonate while her student was there, she would NOT let Courtney be killed…and she could not let the alien be killed either, both of them were innocent babies, and they did not deserve this.

"Angel!" Clara shouted, knowing she wouldn't be able to get to Lundvik in time to stop her.

Angel snapped her finger, a bright spark of gold flashing within the trigger case, causing Lundvik to drop it, the controls shorted out, the detonation aborted.

"What the hell!" Lundvik glared at Angel, "What have you done!?"

"Listened to the best of humanity," Angel stated, "And now you're going to see what that means…"

No sooner had she finished speaking, the wheezing of the TARDIS echoed in the room.

"Don't do it!" Tailor shouted as she nearly burst out of the doors, "Don't set…" she cut herself off, looking around at them all standing there with the trigger case on the ground, smoking and sparking slightly, "Oh…brilliant!"

"Come on!" the Doctor called from within the box, "One, two, three, into the TARDIS!"

"We won't all fit in there…" Duke argued.

But Angel was already ushering them towards the box, knowing that the Doctor would likely get his beloved quote from one of the astronauts as they rushed in.

"What's happening?" Lundvik asked, pausing only a moment to take in the odd box.

Henry wasn't quite so prepared, "It's bigger on the inside!" he gaped.

The Doctor grinned and snapped a finger at him, before getting back to the controls, "Let's go and have a look, shall we?"

"Come on, Aunt Clara!" Tailor nearly squealed, "You won't want to miss this!" she tugged the woman with her to the console, the woman helping the Time Lords to pilot, MK9 hot on her tail.

"Courtney, I could use your help as well," Angel looked at the girl, guiding her towards the controls as well, "Here, grab this lever and keep it level with this number here," she pointed to a gauge beside it, "Push it up to increase, down to decrease, but keep it level, ok?"

"Got it," Courtney nodded, serious and focused on helping fly the spaceship. (She was flying a spaceship! How cool was that?!)

"Shall we do one for old time's sake, my love?" she looked at the Doctor.

He mock-grimaced, "You go on, I've had my fill."

She laughed, reaching out to another level to pull with a cheerful, "Geronimo!"

~8~

"I don't think I want to see this," Duke remarked as the box set down, the Time Lords hurrying for the doors, only having been told they were back on Earth.

"I wanted to die up there with the universe in front of me, not being crushed to death on Earth," Lundvik agreed with the man.

"No one's going to die," Tailor patted the woman on the shoulder as she passed her, MK9 nudging Lundvik's legs in a sign to go, "But you really won't want to miss this, come on!"

She and the Doctor reached out and threw the doors open, letting the humans out first before following behind, MK9 trundling after them. They were on a beach, it was daylight, the moon was full and bright in the sky though it was currently falling apart.

They could only watch in awe as the tiny dragon-thing stretched out its wings and seemed to be preening.

"What's it doing?" Courtney asked.

The Doctor chuckled lightly, seeing Angel closing her eyes, listening to the faint noises echoing down to earth from the creature, a delighted, lovely sound, and reached out to put an arm around her waist as they watched, "It's feeling the sun on itself. It's getting warm."

"And now it's learning to fly," Tailor sighed, watching as the creature merely flew away into space, the eggshell pieces of the moon disintegrating as they fell past Earth's atmosphere, harmless.

"What do you think sweetheart?" the Doctor glanced at Tailor, "What's it look like?"

It took Tailor a moment to realize that he wasn't asking her to identify the species of the creature, but to NAME it! She nearly squealed in her excitement, hopping in place, before she looked at the figure of it growing smaller, searching her brain for the perfect name, "Cora."

"Cora?" Courtney looked at her.

She nodded, "COurtney and claRA. Cora."

"A fitting name," Angel agreed, "It wouldn't be here without the two of you."

Clara let out a breath, feeling tears gathering in her eyes at the knowledge, it really wouldn't be. She had saved it, THEY had saved it, one of her students had helped save an alien and the earth!

"You made your decision," the Doctor nodded, "Humanity made its choice."

"No, we ignored humanity," Lundvik spoke quietly, a small tone of thankfulness in her voice, even she was awed by the beauty of the birth before them.

"Sometimes you have to," Tailor mused, crouching down to pat MK9, "People in large groups, despite safety in numbers, can scare each other worse than if you're alone. Mass hysteria, things get worse and worse, fear generates fear," she sighed, "Sometimes you need just one person to stand up and do what's right," she glanced at her parents, knowing they had done so, many times over, that they would continue to do so, and that, one day, she wanted to be that person to.

Angel hummed, "You know, I don't think humanity was ignored, not really," she glanced over at the humans, before she looked at Clara, "The best of humanity was right there," she smiled at the woman and held out a hand to take Clara's, "And it made the right decision."

"And then some," the Doctor spoke, proud as he looked at Clara too, "In the mid-21st century humankind starts creeping off into the stars, spreads its way through the galaxy to the very edges of the universe. And it endures till the end of time. And do you know why?"

"Because of Cora," Tailor continued, recalling what she and her father had learned while in the Vortex, "Because, one day, in 2049, right when it gave up even thinking about going to the stars, something make it reconsider, to look back up at the sky," it had been hell trying to find any data about what that 'something' was, no one knew, no one expected it, there were only faint photographs and after that it had been labeled as a hoax by the humans, but an awesome enough one to inspire their curiosity again.

"It looked out there into the blackness and it saw something beautiful, something wonderful, that for once it didn't want to destroy. And in that one moment, the whole course of history was changed. Not bad for a girl from Coal Hill School, and her teacher," he glanced over at Courtney.

Courtney gasped suddenly, pointing at the sky where a bright orb was hanging in the sky once more, a flawless surface reflecting the sun's light, "Oh, my gosh. It laid a new egg. It's beautiful!"

"That's what we call a new moon."

Courtney laughed and glanced at Lundvik, "You can be the first woman on that."

She was done with her own travels, she shouldn't run away, she got that now. She needed to stay put, take charge. Earth took SO much looking after and if she wanted a say in what happened to it, she needed to BE there on it.

Angel turned to Lundvik as well, leaning over to whisper, quite loudly, "I think that somebody deserves a thank you."

Lundvik nodded, "Yeah," she admitted, turning to Clara, "Thank you. Thank you for stopping me. Thank you for giving me the moon back."

"This is going to be Christmas," Duke mused, "They've GOT to make a whole new space program now!"

"We need to get back," Henry realized, his eyes wide and spinning around as though he'd be able to find the way home.

Angel chuckled and stepped over, turning him in the right direction, "NASA is that way," she told him, "Though it's about 2.5 thousand miles."

"It's ok though," Tailor reassured them, standing, "Dad and I put in a call to the president for you, she's sending transport."

"Why am I not surprised that you know the President?" Lundvik actually laughed.

"You do, too," the Doctor shot back with a nod to Courtney.

Tailor could only shake her head into her hand as the girl let out a squealing screech and turned to the man, a flurry of questions and shouts escaping her. She looked around, noticing Clara had moved a few feet away, staring up at the moon in silence and made her way over to Clara's side as Courtney frantically began asking the Time Lords questions about her future now that it had let slip she would one day become the President of America and how did that happen? She lightly bumped her Aunt's hip, "This was some trip, hmm?"

"That's one way to put it," Clara mumbled, her emotions such a jumble she didn't know what to feel or think.

Tailor nodded, seeming to understand the woman's lack of focus or attention, "I thought you did brilliantly," she told the woman.

"With what?" Clara looked at her with a small frown, confused.

Tailor smiled, "Watching out for Courtney," she elaborated, "Mum and dad?" she sighed, "They make it look easy, but it's really, really not."

She let out a little laugh when she saw her father making his 'save me' face and hurried over to try and distract Courtney to give him a moment of reprieve.

Clara, however, could only stand there and stare at the Time Lords as Tailor's words caught up with her. She hadn't been pleased with how the Doctor had so abruptly decided not to help, could tell by his reaction to Angel saying she would stay behind that he had planned to take the two Time Ladies with him in the TARDIS, just leave the decision to the humans. But with what Tailor had said…her thoughts were spiraling in a different direction.

She had become them.

For a little while, for this one brief trip, SHE had been the Time Lords, at least to Courtney. It was on HER to watch out for the girl, to make sure she was safe, to keep her out of trouble, to guide her and teach her and make sure she'd be ok. She'd been frantic with worry the whole time, unable to enjoy most of the trip out of fear for Courtney. She was afraid of what the girl would see, do, hear, if she'd listen to orders or wander off and get hurt. She was constantly thinking about what the girl would learn, if she'd be traumatized, if she'd hurt her somehow…

Was that…was that what the Time Lords felt each time?

Was SHE their Courtney?

She let out a breath when she realized...she was.

And it was so much worse because she was an adult. She could and would argue more, do what she wanted, make choices that actually affected things. Children, sometimes at least, respected authority to a point where they would defer to them when feeling unsafe or in danger or confused. Adults wouldn't. Adults had more freedom of choice and could get into so many worse situations, and hadn't she in the past?

How frantic had they been during other trips? Worried for her? How many trips did she dampen by being in danger?

It was so easy to forget that she was their responsibility, not just as companion but as family, so easy to not see how her being there changed what they did or didn't do. It was so easy to forget they saw her like a child to protect.

The Time Lords really did make it look so simple, so easy, but really it was SO hard. She got that now.

Another thought came to her from the line her mind was going down.

She was a teacher. She taught the children lessons and then tested them later to see if they were paying attention, if they had learned anything. And wasn't that also what the Time Lords did? Was that what this was? They showed her sights and gave her information, gave her new insights and perspectives, and trusted that each adventure taught her more and more, so she'd be capable of making choices and decisions from those lessons. It was how she'd tried to act a certain way around Courtney, why she'd fought so hard for the alien baby, because that was the example she wanted Courtney to learn from. To protect, to fight for what was right, to DO the right thing.

She had learned that from the Time Lords.

She owed them so much.

~8~

Clara had a small smile on her face as she and Courtney walked up the stairs from below the console where they had been getting changed back into their school clothing. The Time Lords were there, Tailor showing Angel all the information she and the Doctor had found about 2049 on the console monitor with MK9 adding additional bits of information, while the Doctor worked on placing some books on the steps to the gallery. It was just another day for the Time Lords, another adventure, but she felt like so much had changed, not just with Courtney, the girl seeming to have a new found purpose, but for herself, a new appreciation for everything they did, for the Universe, for the Earth, for HER too.

"Come on, Courtney, off you go," she urged the girl as they made it to the upper level, "Double Geography."

Courtney looked at her with a hopeful look, "Can we do it again?"

Clara lifted an eyebrow at her, "Get your parents' permission and we'll talk."

Courtney half-sagged, knowing that would NEVER happen and almost 99 percent sure the Time Lords probably had some sort of device that would make sure any 'signatures' she gave them were real or forged. She let out a long-suffering sigh but turned to go to the doors, stopping as she opened one to look back, "Thank you," she offered the Time Lords, getting the feeling she wouldn't be seeing much of them after this one-off trip and just…really wanting them to know she meant it.

"Go on," Angel urged her, "You've got a long way to go Madame President, best get started."

Courtney grinned and nodded, rushing out with a spring in her step.

"Couldn't you have just told her she was going to be President one day?" Clara asked them, leaning against the console after the girl disappeared, "Was all this REALLY necessary?"

The Doctor sighed, "If we told her that before, she would have thought we were just saying things because you told us to. She wouldn't have believed it."

"She needed to realize she was special in her own right," Angel agreed, "Once she KNEW she was special, it was just about letting her know how special she could be one day."

Clara nodded, getting it. It was like those times she would tell the Time Lords to tell her things would be alright and they would even though no one believed it. Because she asked them to and they did. It wouldn't have meant as much to Courtney if they did it because SHE had asked them to.

"I mean," Tailor cut in with a tease in her voice, "Yeah, being president of America is pretty cool…but I think being Aunt Clara is WAY more special."

Clara chuckled at that, shaking her head, and really looking at the Time Lords, "Thank you," she told them.

"For what?" the Doctor moved to the console, absently flicking through images of the creature on the monitor.

Clara shook her head again, it was so like them to not even know how special THEY were. It took a remarkable person to live this life, but even more so to invite people into it and keep them safe, "For looking out for me, all the time," she added, "For taking care of me. You don't have to…"

"We do," Angel turned to her, "You're family, Clara. We will always be there for you."

"I know," she nodded, "I just…I don't think it really hit me until I had to be the one looking out for someone else and taking care of them. It's…it's hard, keeping people you care about safe. So thank you. I mean it."

The Doctor waved her off in a modest way, which was surprising for him, "Go on," he sighed softly, "Go canoodle with Mr. Pink."

"Like him yet?" Clara laughed, wiping a tear from her eye, surprised at how emotional she was getting but…it felt like she hadn't had a truly serious conversation with this Doctor in a very long time. It was nice to just be able to get it out.

"It's like he said, I don't have to like him," the Doctor admitted, "This is your life Clara, you make the choices regarding your own future," he sighed again, sounding resigned in the way only a brother could when he knew there would be no talking his sister out of something, "This is me respecting you and your choices."

Even if he didn't like them or agree with them, that was left unsaid, which was just as well, for as emotional as she was she'd probably have slapped him if he'd said it aloud.

"I can live with that," Clara agreed, "See you next Wednesday?" she asked.

"Or sooner," Angel offered, though, upon seeing the way the girl's smile grew strained, she added, "Whenever you want, we'll be waiting."

"Bye Aunt Clara," Tailor gave her a tight hug before the woman turned and left the TARDIS, determination in her step.

She had made a promise to someone besides the Time Lords, to be honest and with everything that happened, there was only one person she wanted to share the story of this adventure with.

And, maybe some canoodling would happen at the same time.

One could hope.

~8~

Clara was smiling lightly to herself as she looked at her whiteboard, some facts about David Copperfield written on it, contemplating some ways to make the book more interesting for the class. She had a feeling though, that Courtney might actually provide some more insightful points about the progression of the novel. As the boy grew from child to adult, that journey of growing up, of responsibility, of maturing, she felt Courtney had a better understanding of what could come with that now. She looked forward to what Courtney might bring to the table.

She looked over when she heard a light knock on her doorway to see Danny standing there, "Hello," he offered.

She smiled at him, "Hey," she greeted.

For a brief moment a thought flittered across her mind, imagining this past adventure but instead of Courtney there with her, it was Danny. What would THAT have been like? Well, she imagined the Doctor probably would have been punched at some point. But she also felt like maybe Lundvik would have been a little less hasty and trigger happy if a soldier had been there, one as calm as Danny usually was.

She winced internally at that last part, usually was. Those were the key words. Danny was usually calm and collected, but if the Blitzer was anything to go by, he didn't always keep his cool when she was in danger, and being on a moon rigged with bombs…he'd probably have gone frantic and made things a little more difficult. But that wasn't his fault, he wasn't good in new situations, being in the army, being a soldier, it had made him quite uncomfortable with change. It made sense, with danger around every corner and never knowing what was coming, it would put anyone on edge. Anyone, except the Doctor she imagined, would want peace and quiet and calm after something like war.

Aliens and time travel and space travel were VERY different experiences.

So…maybe her plan to be honest and share the stories of her adventures with him would work better in more ways than one. If he was slowly introduced to the idea of the travel, like hearing what she got up to, maybe he'd be more open to the idea of travelling later. Maybe he'd be calmer and better able to handle it. He was an adult, he was a soldier, he could handle himself in a way that Courtney couldn't, make his own choices, be his own person. She'd worry about him, of course, she didn't doubt it. But…with Danny's history, she would also know he'd be a little more capable of watching out for himself than Courtney, of thinking things through and being responsible.

Danny gave her an odd look for the thoughtful expression on her face, almost able to tell her mind had gotten away from her, "What've you been up to?"

She leaned against her desk, crossing her arms leisurely, "Went on a trip," she began cautiously, easing him into it, "With Angel," probably best to start with her, "And the Doctor, and Tailor," probably would actually be better to leave out the part regarding Courtney though, that was something for MUCH later.

"Oh."

She nodded, he wasn't telling her he didn't want to hear about it, he wasn't storming away, he was just shifting a little. She took that as a positive sign and continued, "We went to the moon, 2049. You wouldn't believe what we discovered."

"What?"

Her smile fell just a little, hearing a reluctance in his voice, as though he wasn't sure he actually wanted to ask but was being polite, but…maybe her next part would help get him interested, "The Moon isn't actually a Moon. It's an egg."

Danny stared at her, "An…egg?"

"I know," she forced a laugh, "It sounds ridiculous, I get it. But it really was an egg! Hatched and everything! Into this adorable baby-dragon-thing. Alien, of course, nothing on earth could lay something that size. There was a bit of drama with some astronauts about whether to blow it up or let it hatch. But, in the end, Angel helped me stop them and it hatched. Laid a new egg too! Oh, it was beautiful, a new-new moon. Flawless and shining and just...beautiful," she sighed, "I wish you could have seen it."

Danny just stood there, looking at her, still shifting on his feet, though he looked a great deal more uncomfortable as her story went on. She was excited, he could see that, thrilled, and the way she sped up and beamed and rambled a bit told him she was so happy to share the story with him.

But he heard more in her words than she probably meant to reveal. She was ON the moon as it was essentially crumbling underneath her. Surrounded by strangers who had access to BOMBS. She had had to do something to STOP them blowing up the thing in the moon, WHILE she was still ON it. She'd nearly gotten blown up, in the future, and he would have never known. He wouldn't have been there. She was telling him now but not before she left.

And then he felt something hard and cold settle in his gut. He hadn't been there, he wouldn't be there, he couldn't be. He heard her words, in the last thing she said, that she wishes he could have seen it. The look on her face, he had seen it so many times, that wistful longing look of when you really wanted something but didn't want to ask for it.

She had wanted him there.

She was telling him all of this because she wanted him to want to be there too, she wasn't going to stop telling him stories about it all.

"What do you think?" Clara asked him, that hopeful note in her voice that confirmed his suspicions.

"Look, Clara," he shook his head, his voice a bit gruff, hating himself because he knew this would hurt her, "I'm sorry but...all this? This time travel and space travel and danger? I just...I can't handle it. Not right now," he couldn't look at her, he couldn't look into her eyes and see the sorrow and hurt and disappointment, "I have to go."

Clara could only stand there, her mouth open, eyes wide, as he turned and left the room without another word. She swallowed hard, her mouth snapping shut as tears began to fill her eyes. She turned her back from the door, a hand coming to her mouth as her other arm crossed in front of her to hug herself. She tried, so hard, to keep the tears from falling but…they came, they always did, and why wouldn't they? When her heart was breaking in her chest?

So that was it? Just like that? Danny was just…walking away from her? From them? From their relationship? He couldn't handle it and so that was it? They were over?

She inhaled a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut.

This wasn't fair!

This just…it wasn't fair, it wasn't!

She blinked her eyes open as Angel's words came back to her, how sometimes the only choices someone had were terrible ones, but you still had to choose.

Is that what this would be?

She had spent so much of the trip taking each word Angel uttered to try and piece together whether something about the future would be revealed. She'd been so sure that it would be in relation to the Moon but maybe she was wrong, maybe it had been after the Moon. Maybe it had been THIS.

To give up Danny, or give up the Time Lords.

But how could she? She loved both of them, in different ways of course, but…they were both such a big part of her life, how could she just cut one out?

She looked over her shoulder at the door Danny had disappeared through, staring at it, staring at where he'd walked away from her, all because of the traveling. She wanted to be angry, she wanted to rage that if he could walk away from her so easily then LET him, let him come crawling back, let him come begging for her to take him back. Or that she was better off without him if he wouldn't fight to stay with her.

But she didn't feel that anger, as much as she wanted it.

She just felt hurt and…

And…

And she felt like a terrible person because…because she also wanted to run after him and tell him she was done with it, with the traveling, if it meant they could be together.

For so long she had thought she would never give it up, because she did love it, the wonder, the adventure, the Time Lords. But…that was while she had been a nanny and looking after the same two kids, doing the same thing every day. That had been while she was just starting as a teacher and struggling and needing something she was GOOD at. That was before she found someone that made her laugh and smile and WANT to stay on Earth longer and longer, to spend more time with them.

She wasn't going to run after him.

But…the longer she stood there, thinking, the more she felt like…maybe this was a sign, this was a test, all great love required sacrifice didn't it? Relationships required give and take and compromise.

She looked at it in terms of the Moon. If she gave up Danny, she would have the travelling, the adventure, the Time Lords, but she would lose the man she loved. So what was the alternative? If she gave up the travelling? She…she wouldn't lose the Time Lords. They were family! Sarah Jane and Jack and Martha and Donna and the Ponds, all of them were her family, they would still meet up, and the Time Lords would be there, they would still see her. She wouldn't LOSE them, not like she would lose Danny.

And…she HAD been worn thin lately. Angel had been right about that. She was doing too much and trying to make it all work and she needed to step back, she needed to stop, she…she needed to choose which life she wanted. She had been thinking about it, a tiny niggle in the back of her mind, ever since she'd been struggling to maintain her dates with Danny. It was too much, she couldn't keep doing both. She needed to pick one life and stick to it.

Realizing how much of a responsibility she was to the Time Lords, how she was their Courtney, maybe it was time to grow up, like she felt Courtney was doing. Maybe it was time to step away from the adventures and start actually living her life. She knew the Ponds had managed to do it, had started to, before. The Time Lords had been ok with it. If she asked them, they would let her go, just like they did anything they could that she asked them to.

They would part on better terms than she and Danny would, that was for sure. They had just saved the moon! It was a high note to part on.

But that wouldn't be fair to the Time Lords, to just call and say it was over, to not show up again, to cut ties just like that. She knew the Doctor had done that in the past with some companions, until Angel had helped him realize how much it hurt them. She didn't want to hurt the Time Lords, she never wanted to hurt them.

So…maybe ONE more trip? A goodbye tour? A fond farewell?

One last adventure, one where they knew it was the last, where they could part and truly say goodbye.

She sniffled in, nodding to herself, though she knew she wouldn't do it straight away. No, she was emotional right now, she was hurt and confused and she just needed time to sort out what she really felt before she made any true decisions.

She just hoped, like with the moon, it would be the right one.

Chapter Text

Tailor sighed sadly as she stood before a mirror in the TARDIS wardrobe, looking at the dress she'd picked out for this adventure. It was black and solemn, which was how she felt. In some cultures, black was something fit for mourning and funerals, and wasn't that what this trip was? An ending?

It was a lovely gown, fitted on top, sleeveless, with a skirt that wasn't fluffy but hanging freely to the floor. She had sheer fabric for sleeves, from her shoulders to her wrists. Her hair was up in a twist, with a few black feathers decorating it. All her father had said was dress for the 1920s. She read between the lines though, no flapper dresses for her or her father would have coronary. She didn't feel much like wearing anything festive or fun either, not with the news of what this trip would mean.

Her Aunt Clara was going to be leaving them after this trip.

HOW was she supposed to enjoy any trip when that was hanging over her?

She didn't understand it though, hadn't sensed it either which made her question what sort of psychic she was going to be if she couldn't even get a sense off of her Aunt wanting to stop traveling. They had had such a nice time, saved the earth, saved the alien, watched the moon hatch and watched a new moon be created. Everything had been wonderful!

And then they had gotten a call from Clara to stop round, they never said no to Clara, and popped in. Clara hadn't seemed upset or angry, just sort of sullen and serious, had asked to talk to her parents quick. She hadn't thought much of it, likely just 'adult' things her father seemed to think she was too young to handle. (She was 405!) So she'd gone back into the TARDIS to finish running some upgrades on MK9, she wanted to try and add some teleporting capabilities to him, at least so he could get back into the TARDIS if ever he was caught somewhere else. She did not ever want to think about her little doggy being in a situation that Sarah Jane's K9 had been in with the Krillitane Oil.

She'd just finished and was about to test it, when her parents came back in. She hadn't needed to be psychic to know something was wrong, her father rarely ever looked so thrown or grave or confused all at once. Even her mother had looked a little startled and for something to surprise her mother? It was serious.

So many things had gone through her mind in the span of seconds. Kovarian was back. The Silence were hunting them again. The Time Lords had reappeared about to initiate the Final Sanction. One of the family had died. The TARDIS was going to explode again…

It was just as bad as any of that, Clara had decided she didn't want to travel with them any longer, that she wanted to start focusing on living her life on Earth.

Had...had she done something? Had she done something to make her Aunt not want to travel with them anymore? Was it her fault?

Her mother had reassured her before she could even voice her fears, that Clara had told them it was getting to be too much, all the adventures. It was too much of a strain to go from one life in the TARDIS to another on Earth. She had too many responsibilities and they were starting to suffer because of her travels and no, she didn't think that putting more time between when the Time Lords showed up would help.

It was like with her Aunt Amy and Uncle Rory, her mother had said, there came a time where human companions just felt the need to live their lives on Earth, build their foundations.

She didn't remember it hurting so much with her Aunt and Uncle though. But, then again, she had been very young and Amy and Rory hadn't actually ever ended the travels. Her parents were weaning them off, but they hadn't come to the very end, in a way where Amy and Rory had decided to stop and told her parents so.

She tried to look on the bright side, at least she would still see Clara, on holidays and with the rest of the family, but it still hurt knowing this was going to be their last adventure.

A tiny part of her wondered if Danny Pink might have had a hand in this sudden decision. He hadn't seemed happy with any of them during the Blitzer. But she'd been so sure, when her mother had talked to him, that something might have changed. He hadn't seemed as angry and upset…

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," her mother's voice spoke and she could see the woman approaching from behind her in the mirror.

She was grateful Clara had already found her outfit, a flapper-style dress, and gone out to the console room. She could talk to her mother in English and not Gallifreyan. She always felt bad when she or her parents did that around others. It always seemed to make people feel left out when they couldn't understand what was being said and she didn't like making people feel that.

"Thanks," Tailor murmured, looking at her mother's reflection. She cracked a small smile, seeing the woman was wearing a TARDIS blue gown. It was quite a silky dress, sleeveless but without even sheer sleeves, a slightly move v-like neckline, and a belt to cinch her waist in her hand. It appeared her mother had come to use the mirror as well.

Angel reached out a hand to twist one of the feathers in Tailor's hair, helping it lie a bit better, "It's not the end," she remarked, giving her daughter a soft smile.

"I know," Tailor took a deep breath, "I just…I don't like any endings."

Angel laughed lightly, "You sound just like your father."

Tailor smiled more at that, having experienced how he would rip the last page out of books just for that reason.

"Everything will be alright," Angel reassured her, "Clara just needs time."

Tailor nodded, offering her mother a small smile, before heading out of the wardrobe.

Angel watched her go, hoping her words would prove true. She hadn't expected Clara to stop traveling quite so soon, hadn't sensed it coming. But even now that the woman had called their adventures together off, she couldn't help but feel it wasn't…finished? If that was the right word. She could sense that time was all that was needed for everything to sort itself out. Maybe it meant Clara needed time and then would want to travel again, or it could mean they needed time to heal once she left. She didn't know for certain. She could hope, though, that maybe, just maybe, she hadn't sensed Clara ending their travels because she might change her mind and want to keep going and, therefore, there was nothing to sense.

She smiled a bit at that thought even as she shook her head. Part of her had been pleased her sensations and visions were getting stronger, sure that it would mean she could keep more people safe. Another part of her, small though it was, had been worried that there would be no mystery or excitement left if she knew everything that was coming. She was alright not sensing everything, so long as it meant, when it was important, she could.

She looked down at the belt in her hand, glancing at herself in the mirror, before moving to wind it around her. She tugged it a bit, about to close it, when she studied her appearance. The belt would be a little tight, being designed to cinch the waist, and the gown was designed to be a little more flowing and less restricted. It wouldn't look good with a belt.

She laughed, there she was, being the last one to be ready, as she always seemed to be whenever she dined to wear a costume on trips. Though she expected it, it wasn't that she spent too much time on the details of her outfits, it was just…she liked being the last one to appear. There was nothing to distract the Doctor after her, no one to come along and pull his gaze away. She rather liked when he lost his breath at her all dressed up.

She chuckled lightly under her breath and moved to place the belt back on a shelf, leaving the wardrobe.

~8~

In a quaint little train car, a waitress in uniform was walking along a narrow aisle running between the tables, taking orders from the patrons and seeing if anyone needed anything. It was quite a formal setting, everyone dressed in dinner clothes fit for the 1920s of Earth.

An older woman frowned as she eyed something at the end of the car, ignoring the young woman sitting across from her, "Is there some sort of fancy dress thing on this evening?" she asked her companion.

"I don't think so," the girl stuttered, "Why do you ask?"

The older woman scoffed, nodding her head at something over the girl's shoulder, "That fellow over there, dressed as a mummy monster thing," she gestured at the man she saw, playing at being a mummy, walking along the aisle, lurching almost, heading towards them.

The girl frowned and looked behind her, but there was nothing of the sort that she could see, "Who do you mean? I can't see him."

The older woman huffed, the girl was utterly useless, and so she held up her hand and waved over the maitre'd, "You! You! Throw that man out of my dining car," she gestured at the mummy, still ambling closer, it was utterly foul, unsanitary! Honestly, how dare these people think this was acceptable? "It's disgusting."

The maitre'd gave her an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, Madam. Which man?"

"Which man?!" she demanded, offended, as though it wasn't obvious, "I'll have your job. That man, right there," she pointed at the mummy, "Dressed as a monster."

"Mama…" her companion spoke, a hesitance in her voice that belied a belief that the woman before her was going mad, "There isn't anyone there. Are you feeling ok?"

"Don't you dare lie to me, girl!" she snapped, "I won't be made a fool of," she stood, glaring at the mummy, still approaching, "Stop it. Stop it!" but it kept coming and now she realized it was heading for HER specifically, not just in their direction, so she turned to those around her, "Stop him at once," she ordered, "Right now!"

"Mama, there's no one there," the girl spoke, "You're worrying me. Do you want one of your pills?"

But the older woman ignored her, waving her arms as the mummy reached her, doing all she could to ward it off, keep it away from her.

Sadly, to anyone else watching, it appeared more as though she were having some sort of fit.

"Oh, no!" the woman screamed, feeling its grip on her, "Get it off! Get it off!" she leaned back as far as she could, its hands moving to her head and a pain exploded there.

A moment later, she stopped, collapsing, dead.

The girl gasped, struggling to her feet and rushing to the woman's side, "Is there a doctor?" she cried, hoping someone might help her, "Sorry, I need a doctor! Sorry, I don't know, she just stopped."

She broke down in sobs as the other passengers and staff in the car could only stand and gape at what had happened, until a single man hurried forward to examine the fallen woman.

~8~

Angel smiled lightly at the Doctor as she stepped out of the TARDIS, the old box parked expertly in the baggage car of the Orient Express, a remake of the original that traveled through space. She was more focused on the Doctor's attire though.

"I can't believe YOU dressed up," she remarked with a little laugh, appreciating his dark suit that was faintly accurate for the period he'd said to dress in, even adding in a tie!

"Yes, well," he shrugged, his voice holding the barest hint of resignation and sorrow, for he too was affected by Clara's sudden decision to depart though he was trying not to let it show. Tailor had been upset enough by the revelation, he didn't want to make it worse. He had to be strong for his family and if that meant being 'fine' then he would be, "Special occasion, isn't it?"

She reached out to take his hand in her own, pressing a gentle kiss to his scarred knuckles, "You being here makes any occasion special."

He chuckled, "That's MY line, I believe."

She sniggered a bit, "That reminds me of William, how Martha's 'effect' was special enough all on its own."

"Right sentiment, wrong woman."

Angel shook her head at that though she smiled at him for it.

His eyes trailed over her, taking in her gown and her hair being up in a twist similar to Tailor's, he loved it when she wore blue. To him, the color wasn't just a reminder of her connection to the TARDIS, to how special she was, but it also brought out the golden flecks in her eyes.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, unknowingly echoing what she had said to Tailor but in a different way.

"You look quite dashing yourself," she reached out to pat his tie, a fondness in her eye that had him placing a hand over hers on his chest and just holding it there a moment.

"I bet you're not going to miss that," Tailor's voice spoke, a teasing note in her tone, though there was still that sad quality to it.

Clara, who had stepped out of the box beside Tailor, dressed in her own period appropriate attire of a flapper-reminiscent gown, her hair cut in a bob, could only smile at the two wistfully. She would miss it, she really would. The Doctor often appeared so cold to others, but when he was around his Mate or daughter he just lit up, softened, warmed. She would miss seeing them like that all the time.

In a way, it was an example of love she wished she could have in her own life.

She took a breath, stealing herself, reminding herself that was why she was doing this. Because she might have a chance at that sort of love, if she made things right with Danny and there was only one way she could see to do that. He couldn't handle all her traveling in space and time, and so...and so she wouldn't any more. She couldn't. The Time Lords would be fine, heal, move on, get another Companion, but she might not find another Danny Pink if she didn't do this.

...so why did she keep having to remind herself that she made the right choice?

The Doctor turned to them, "Your train awaits, my lady," he gestured behind him.

"Baggage car, my love," Angel reminded him quietly as she shut the door to the TARDIS, giving MK9 an apologetic look as the pup remained within the box. Despite being in space, the train was meant to be old-fashioned and so they'd decided the tiny robotic dog might stand out a little too much in such a setting and, for some reason, the Doctor was actually making an effort to blend in this time.

"Ah," he nodded, "Yes, right. The real train should be through here…" he led them to a door, stepping into the connecting area between the cars, "There were many trains to take the name Orient Express," he began to explain, "But only one..." he opened the final door into the main car, opening his mouth to exclaim the final piece.

When Tailor beat him to it, cheering, "In space!"

Clara could only gape, seeing an old-fashioned car, but through the window, literal space! There was a band playing in the corner, a lounge-esque rendition of 'Don't Stop Me Now' by Queen. Passengers were chatting lightly and having cocktails, passing hor d'oeuvres around.

"Of course it is," Clara breathed, still stunned.

There was so much beauty in that car, in the view, the wonder of it all, seeing something like this that no one would ever believe existed or was real? It was one of the many reasons why she had traveled with them so long. There was SO much to see and they wanted to share it with her.

…and she was about to walk away from it all.

"Completely faithful recreation of the original Orient Express," the Doctor smiled around the room.

"Though it IS a bit bigger than I remember," Angel remarked with a smile of her own, recalling that adventure.

"And it's in space!" Tailor nearly bounced on her toes, "Did I mention that?"

Clara chuckled, "I'm not sure, did you?"

Tailor rolled her eyes.

"Oh, and the rails are actually hyperspace ribbons," the Doctor added, "But, in every other respect, identical. Painstaking attention to detail."

"I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars..." the singer began to trill, just as a man with one eye shoved his way past them.

"Most of the time."

"On a collision course I am a satellite I'm out of control I'm a sex machine ready to reload. Like an atom bomb I'm 'bout to oh, oh, oh..."

Tailor glanced at Clara, seeing her just beaming at what she was seeing, "You're going to miss this though."

"Getting a feeling?" Clara tried to tease, clearing her throat.

Tailor shook her head, "You've got that smile on your face," she told her, "The sad smile."

Clara cleared her throat hard, "You…you can tell what my different smiles are?" she thought only Danny had noticed them.

"Of course," Angel told her, "Humans aren't robots. Your faces tell a story if you know how to read them. And we tend to pay special attention to our families."

"I've no idea what they're going on about," the Doctor told Clara as Angel and Tailor began to walk further into the room, "I find it confusing. It's like two emotions at once. It's like you're malfunctioning.,," he paused at that, turning to face her, eyeing her mock-suspiciously, "Are you sure you're not a robot?"

Clara shook her head at him, fond, not answering though as she stepped past him to follow the Time Ladies.

"Travelling at the speed of light," the singer continued, "Wanna make a supersonic woman of you..."

"Clara…" the Doctor began, glancing at her, "I…" he searched for the words, "I hope this is alright?" yes that sounded about right and hopefully not-insulting, "I just thought this would be a good one to..."

"To end it," Clara finished for him, nodding, "Yeah. It is. It's a good choice. Good one to end on."

"Yeah?"

Clara looked at him, her smile growing sad and touched, he really was worried it wouldn't be a good trip. He cared. He always did that, made her question if he still saw her as a sister…then went and did something that proved he did. Worrying about this? Wanting it to be something she'd like? He had taken her request for one more trip, a trip goodbye, and tried to make it one she would love, to end their travels on a good note and part ways in a positive manner.

"Yeah," she didn't even care that her voice cracked this time.

"Come on, Aunt Clara!" Tailor called from a little ways ahead.

"Shall we?" the Doctor chuckled at the eager tone in his daughter's voice, holding out an arm to Clara.

She laughed, sniffling, and nodded, "Yeah," she agreed, winding her arm through his as they moved to join the others.

They came to the Time Ladies' side, the two looking out the right side windows at a dark spot in space, moments before a computer spoke over the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would be good enough to look from the windows on the right of the train, you'll be able to see the soaring majesty of the Magellan black hole."

"Ah, I remember when this was all planets as far as the eye could see," the Doctor mused wistfully, "All gone now. Gobbled up by that beast."

"Thankfully not the same beast as Kroptor," Angel remarked, leaning into the Doctor as he moved an arm around her waist, "I really don't want to repeat that."

Tailor's face scrunched, "That was when you faced the devil, right?" she asked her parents, wanting to be sure she got the story right.

"The Devil?" Clara stared at them, "You're not being serious, are you?"

"I died then," Angel murmured, not answering completely, but letting her know it truly was as serious as she seemed to think it was.

"Won't happen now," Tailor proclaimed, "Mum's MUCH stronger now."

The Doctor nodded, "It's just a black hole this time."

Tailor glanced at Clara, "You're doing the smile again."

Clara could only nod. Though she was sure her smile was more from how torn she felt than anything else. They spoke so easily about a time where Angel died and...it made a pit form in her stomach when she thought more on her decision. She was going to leave, what would happen if she left and one of them got into trouble and regenerated? They'd have died and she wouldn't be there for them. They'd have died and, maybe, her being there would have saved them. Could...could she really just go like that? They lived their lives in so much danger and they (ok, the Doctor) took so much looking after and Angel couldn't see everything and...

No, she had to stop her thoughts running away from her. She had made her choice. The Doctor and Angel were older, Angel was stronger now than she had been when she died that time. They had Tailor to worry about and were both FAR more careful because of it. They...they'd be fine without her.

Oh, why did it hurt so much to think that?

She shook her head, trying to focus on the black hole through the window...but even that made her sorrow grow. Because here was something else that she would see that no one else would. Even now she was looking at a black hole, a literal black hole and it was…it was beautiful. And the Doctor wasn't done talking about that majesty, about all the other things she still had yet to see...and now wouldn't.

"There was this planet," he began, "Obsidian. Sweetheart?" he glanced at Tailor.

She rolled her eyes playfully, knowing he was testing her knowledge, "The planet of perpetual darkness."

The Doctor snapped his fingers, nodding, "There was also a planet that was made completely of shrubs…"

"Ni," Tailor supplied.

"And then there was Thedion Four."

"Constant acid rain."

"Had a lovely picnic there once, wearing a gas mask."

"Made me think of Nancy and Jaime," Angel laughed at the memory.

"Are you my mummy?" Tailor teased, bumping her hip with her mother's.

Clara felt another twinge at that, so many more inside jokes and references to adventures that they would have that she wouldn't be a part of. The next time she saw them they'd probably have a new companion, or even if they didn't they'd have new stories and memories of adventures, new jokes she'd miss. She wouldn't be there to experience them...

"That's a lie," a voice spoke, and they looked over to see a woman, looking rather worn and upset. And why wouldn't she be? After all she'd just witnessed, all she'd lost.

"I'm sorry?" Clara blinked at her.

"That's a lie, what you said," the woman pointed at the Doctor, "Thedion Four was destroyed thousands of years ago so you couldn't have been there."

And that struck Clara too. They would see things that were long ago destroyed, seeing them in their prime. It was a beautiful thing to be able to do and she wouldn't any longer.

"Miss Pitt," another man called, approaching the woman with two others at his side, dressed in a uniform full of gold braiding and a handful of medals, a security captain judging by his insignias, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather rest in your room?"

"That man's a liar," was all the woman said, pointing at the Doctor.

"Perhaps you'd allow Mr. Carlyle here to escort you back?"

"It'll be alright, miss," one of the men stepped to her side, gesturing her to walk on, "Just come with me."

The foursome watched the woman go, Angel frowning as she eyed her, feeling a deep grief radiating off the woman.

…a ghastly looking mummy reached out its hands towards someone, in the middle of a dinner car...

…a piece of cloth hung behind a glass display...

…a crowd of people looked on, stood in a dinner car, as an old woman screamed about a mummy but there was nothing there...

Angel looked over at the Doctor, catching his eye as a deep frown grew across his face at what she'd seen. It was…conflicting, the vision. It was as though she'd seen the same event but from two different perspectives, one where there was a mummy present, and another where there was nothing. And that cloth...what was that about?

Usually he would be thrilled to have some sort of mystery pop up but…not this time. Even with Angel and Tailor there, he would still have a little swell of curiosity and interest. But right now he just didn't want anything to go awry, for once. If this was going to be Clara's last trip with them, he wanted it to be a good one, not more danger, not more of a reminder of why she was leaving.

Angel reached out to take his hand in silent support, not wanting to let the others know that a danger might be on the horizon. The longer they could keep things calm and light, the better. For all they knew, they might be able to get this sorted without Clara or Tailor even noticing.

…ok, that would be quite the stretch, but it MIGHT be possible.

"Sorry about that," the security captain turned to them, "I suppose it's understandable in the circumstances. I don't believe we've been introduced. Captain Quell," he reached out a hand to shake theirs.

"I'm Clara," she introduced, "This is the Doctor, Angel, and Tailor."

"Ah, another one."

"Another what?" Tailor frowned.

"Doctor," Angel answered instead, moving to shake his hand in return, "Nice to meet you."

"Yes, quite," Quell answered Tailor while giving Angel a polite nod, "We've got doctors and professors coming out of our ears on this trip. So, what are you a doctor of?"

"Now, there's a question that's never asked often enough," the Doctor grinned, "Let's say...intestinal parasites."

Tailor could only shake her head into her palm.

The sad thing was…he DID have a degree in that, among many other things, like cheese-making.

Quell eyed him, "I'm beginning to think Miss Pitt was right about you," he tipped his hat to them and turned to go.

"Could you please give Maisie our condolences?" Angel spoke, causing him to stop, "There was a death in her family, wasn't there?"

"What?" Clara blinked, looking between Angel and Quell, "Someone died? What happened?"

The man frowned, "Don't you know?"

"Would she have asked if we did?" Tailor countered with a polite smile, "You know, whispers," she shrugged, "People talk, but are they speaking truth or falsities?"

The man nodded, understanding, there were a number of whispers going around the train since Miss. Pitt's unfortunate incident. And they really didn't know what had happened, for all they knew it might BE intestinal parasites that had been the cause behind it all. Perhaps if he told them what they knew, this Doctor could at least strike one possibility off the list.

~8~

A short while later would find the Time Lords and Clara gathered in a corridor of the train, Clara sipping on champagne, Angel and the Doctor with flutes of their own in hand though Tailor had a water.

"There's a body and there's a mummy," Clara began, thinking over what they'd been told by Quell, "I mean, can you not just get on a train? Did a wizard put a curse on you about mini-breaks?"

She looked to Angel for an answer, but the woman could only shrug, "Most wizards end up being him, so that would be like cursing himself."

Tailor sniggered when Angel took a tiny sip of the champagne, before spitting it back into her glass with a grimace, so much like the Doctor's last incarnation she only just barely managed to keep her full laugh in.

"Might be nothing," the Doctor remarked, absently reaching out to take her flute and put it on the tray of a passing waiter, wanting anything she didn't like far away from her, "Old ladies die all the time. It's practically their job description."

"And the monster?" Clara countered.

"Earth does have records of the mind going around a certain age for some people," Tailor reminded her, "It could have been a reaction to medications or her own brain playing tricks on her."

"A number of species believe death comes for us in the end," the Doctor nodded.

'...almost every culture in the universe has some concept of an afterlife...'

"Maybe in her religion or culture, they picture death as a mummy coming for them."

'...welcome to the Underworld. Otherwise known as the Nethersphere, or the Promised Land. It's where you go when you die...'

"Something seen by no one except her, which suggests that it wasn't there."

'...the three words...'

"A dying brain, lack of oxygen, hallucinations."

'...guard the graveyards...'

"Anyway, people do just die sometimes, she was over 100 years old."

"Everything, all things, must die," Angel said softly, closing her eyes and rubbing her head at the whispers she heard, small traces of the future that she had heard before, at least some of it. She was starting to get a deep weariness in her bones, all these whispers she kept getting of death and the afterlife. It was coming, she could sense it, but she didn't have a firm enough grasp to see when or where or to whom and she was starting to fear she wouldn't be able to stop it.

The Doctor reached out, his hand moving to the small of her back, his thumb stroking along her spin in reassurance, 'Whatever it is, we'll sort it,' he promised her, hearing those whispers in his mind from hers. None of it painted a good picture for the future to come, 'We'll stop it.'

He could only hope that it wasn't a premonition of this trip, that would be the absolute worst way to end this adventure.

"Says the 2,000 year old aliens," Clara pointed out, not seeming to notice the silent exchange, having taken to looking around the room at the other people when the Doctor began to speak.

Tailor, however, glanced between her parents, taking a sip of her water as she eyed them suspiciously. She knew when her mother had visions, and she knew the signs of when it was a bad one. Though, to be fair, most of her visions were hardly ever good. She knew her mother tended to see glimpse of when people were being hurt or dying so she could try to save them. But whatever she'd just seen now was upsetting...not in an immediate way, so it likely wasn't about this trip. Something about the future after this was alarming both her parents.

She would have to be extra careful and do as they said, they'd have enough worrying about whatever her mother saw. She wanted to ask, but she also didn't want to alarm Clara...so she promised herself she'd do so once this trip was over.

The Doctor frowned, a little confused at Clara's tone, "…Clara, you actually sound as if you want this to be a thing. Do you?"

He really wasn't sure what was going on now. He thought this was supposed to be a calm, happy trip, without danger, just a nice time to spend, the four of them, before Clara called it quits…but now it was sounding like she wanted it to be some sort of dangerous adventure that may or may not end well.

"I'm not saying I don't want it to be a thing," Clara answered diplomatically, "It's just...I don't want this to seem...different," she shrugged, unable to find the words to describe it, "I want it to be like a normal trip," if it was too calm, she felt like it would just be a reminder, even more so, that it was the last trip. If it was as mysterious and dangerous as always, maybe she could pretend a little longer that it wasn't. She sighed, it was unfair, really, to say it because it wasn't like they could control when or where danger appeared, it tended to happen more often than not but not always and not intentionally, "But, I mean, if you think that there is nothing to worry about, then that is fine by me, too."

Tailor watched as Clara moved to head back into the main car, and glanced at her parents, "It…it ISN'T anything to worry about, is it?"

The Doctor moved his arm around his daughter's shoulders, "Whatever it is or isn't, we'll take care of it," he promised her.

"So it IS something," Clara called, having only just gotten to the door.

"It might be, it might not," the Doctor said as Angel shrugged, her vision hadn't been very clear and she was too on edge from her last vision to sense much of the present.

"It's our last trip," Angel spoke, "We just want it to be a good one."

"It will be," Clara told them, "And, yeah, it's our last trip but it's not like I'm never going to see you again. You three are going to come round for loads of holidays. So…good or bad, it's not the end of everything."

The Time Lords smiled, as though they truly needed to hear her say that, to reassure THEM that it would be ok, no matter how this trip ended, she would still want to see them and spend time, even if it was relegated to just holidays with the family.

"Alright then," the Doctor smiled, "Let's find out what's going on."

~8~

Even though the Orient Express was travelling through space, not near enough any star to have a designate daytime or nighttime indicated by the rising sun or any sunlight, the train DID have an automatic light routine and sleep cycle. It turned out that the group of travelers had arrived in the evening hours, only a short while before the passengers were to retire to bed. Which was where the travelers found themselves.

The Doctor and Angel were cuddled together in a compartment, both wide awake. The Doctor was on his back, Angel beside him, her head and hand resting on his chest, listening to his hearts beating, her hand idly tracing odd patterns on his shirt. They didn't need much sleep, being Time Lords. They could sense their daughter, dead to the world, asleep in a nearby compartment, she was still a relatively young Time Lord, still growing. Clara was in another compartment, resting somewhat peacefully.

More peacefully than the Doctor was at least, his mind could not be quieted, too consumed with the odd mystery of the mummy-no-one-could-see.

"It's nothing," he murmured, "Nothing. Definitely sure. 99 percent sure."

"Really?" Angel hummed absently, "99? Not 100?"

"99 is quite high," he countered.

"But…" Angel smiled, not needing to have any connection to his mind or psychic ability to know 99 wasn't good enough for him to ignore a situation, sometimes not even 100 percent was enough. But she also knew, because this was Clara's last trip, he really WAS trying to make it a good one without any deadly danger lurking around the corner. He was trying to ignore the red flags his mind was sending him, for Clara's sake…so he needed to be teased into feeling it was a larger danger than it might be, so he could investigate it.

He fought it, he truly did, but he gave in with a huff, "Ok," he muttered, "Ok, 75 percent."

Angel laughed lightly, "That's quite a leap! 24!"

The Doctor fought a smile.

~8~

In Clara's compartment, the poor girl was wide awake, laying on her back, staring at the ceiling, her mobile clutched in her hands, desperately debating whether she should call Danny. Her very first thought, as soon as she was alone in her compartment, was to call Danny and share with him the amazing trip she was on. She wanted to tell him all about the Orient Express in SPACE, with the 1920s design, and the glorious cocktails.

But she just kept remembering the last time they'd spoken, just after saving the moon, how he'd reacted. He didn't want to hear anything about her travels, he didn't want her to BE on her travels, would he want her to call now?

A train in space was pretty cool right? He'd want to know something like that existed, wouldn't he?

…but there was also the grim reaper mummy, and Danny wouldn't appreciate the danger that might not even be a danger.

Ok, so…no, she shouldn't call him. It was just a train. It might be in space, but take that away and it was a train. A 1920s themed train. You could find that on Earth easy.

It was boring, really. Boring, boring, boring, not worth mentioning.

Right?

~8~

"Because you know what this sounds like, don't you?" the Doctor asked as he hopped out of the bed, holding out a hand to Angel to help her up, neither of them having bothered to change into nightclothes as they hadn't planned to really sleep but stay awake and chat.

Angel hummed, already seeing the answer in his mind, "It sounds like a mummy who can only be seen by the victim."

"I was being rhetorical."

She snorted, shaking her head, "No you weren't," she squeezed his hand, "I've gotten better at understanding rhetorical questions. That wasn't one."

"I knew exactly what this sounds like," he defended, serious for a moment before grinning at her, "I just love hearing your voice."

She laughed, leaning in to give him a light peck on the lips, "The feeling has always been mutual."

He couldn't help how his grin grew smug at her words, recalling all the times in the past where she'd remarked about just that, how much she loved to hear him talk even if she didn't always understand what he was talking about, just the sound of his voice.

Angel turned and grabbed his jacket off a nearby hook, holding it up to help him into it before they stepped out of the compartment and into the train corridor. She reached out to take his hand when he lifted it to knock on Tailor's door, in the process stilling his other hand from coming up to knock on Clara's as well.

'We should let them rest, my love,' she told him in his mind. Tailor was sound asleep and Clara had enough things she was worrying about right now. She couldn't sense anything specific, just that it felt like there was something weighing on her thoughts, a number of different things. She wanted to help the girl feel better, help relieve some of her worries, but she also didn't want to push or make Clara feel like she was prying or invading her privacy.

When Clara was ready, she knew the girl would know she could always talk to them about anything.

The Doctor nodded, seeing her thoughts, and turned, keeping his hand in hers, to lead her down the corridor and out of the car. Angel glanced back a moment before the door closed behind her, knowing Clara was likely about to leave her own compartment and hoping they had been quick enough to slip out without her noticing. They didn't know how this mummy-thing worked and she didn't want Clara or Tailor to end up a target for it because of their snooping. Best to keep them in their compartments as long as possible.

She turned to continue on, just missing Clara stepping out of her compartment and knocking on their door, "Doctor?" she called in a whisper, "Are you awake? Angel? Hello?"

~8~

The Doctor smirked to himself as he flashed the sonic on the lock of the engineer's car of the train, Angel stepping through the door first, having led them right to it in a way others might describe as absently, but he knew it was her sensations guiding her. The room was full of equipment and tools and a piece of plastic covering some odd device. He moved over to it, yanking the plastic off to scan the device with the sonic.

"Hello Mr. Perkins," Angel spoke, before turning around to smile at a man who had startled at the sight of them, letting out a squeak just after she called out to him.

"How did you know my name?" the man, dressed in a periodesque engineer's uniform, frowned.

"You're the chief engineer," she said, as though it was answer enough, continuing on when the man opened his mouth to ask how she knew that because it wasn't a question most guests would ask about, and offering him a hand in greeting, "I'm Angel, nice to meet you."

"Er, you too," the man shook her hand, glancing at the Doctor.

"And this is the Doctor," Angel added.

"Yes, hello," the Doctor waved, distracted by the device and the readings on the sonic.

"Beautiful bit of kit, isn't it, sir?" Perkins moved closer, "The Excelsior Life Extender. It's like driving around in a portable hospital."

"Well," Angel frowned at it, "At least it helped Mrs. Pitt a little while."

"But not enough," the Doctor muttered.

"Got me there," Perkins remarked, "Certainly got me there. Maybe it malfunctioned."

"No," Angel murmured, reaching out to touch the device, "I don't believe it did."

The Doctor nodded, holding the sonic up to read the results, "The records show that the machine did everything it could to keep her alive."

"Yeah," the man snorted, "And almost drained the battery doing it."

The Doctor blinked at that and turned to the man who seemed quite familiar with the device if he knew that, "What do you know?"

Perkins crossed his arms, "Well, I know that when I find people fiddling with a chair that someone died in, it's best to play my cards close to my chest."

"Really?" the Doctor mirrored him, crossing his arms as well, "Well, I know that when I find a man loitering near a chair that someone died in, I do just the same."

Angel looked between the two men as they stared each other down for a long moment…before both cracked a smile.

"Touché," Perkins laughed, reaching out a hand to shake the Doctor's, "Pleased to meet you, Doctor, Miss Angel," he added, more cordial now, "Course, there's a rumor that someone...or someTHING else might be responsible."

"Really?" the Doctor asked, "Enlighten us."

~8~

Clara huffed as she stepped back out of her compartment, now in her day-dress. Foolish her had thought she might actually sleep and gotten ready for bed earlier. She was NOT about to wander a train in her nightclothes. She was just about to head to Tailor's compartment, she would probably be the best person to help her find the Doctor and Angel, when she saw something that made her pause.

Maisie, the woman who had called the Doctor a liar, was walking down the corridor, in her pajamas, her eyes wide open but vacant…and…holding a shoe in her hand?

She glanced around, not sure if she was really seeing this, before moving after the woman, "Hello?" she called softly, not wanting to startle her, "Are you ok? Hello? Excuse me? Excuse me?" she looked behind her for help, but it was just her, and so she sighed and moved to follow the woman, not wanting her to get hurt as she seemed so out of sorts. She trailed behind the woman all the way to the baggage car where she finally paused, "It's Maisie, isn't it?" she asked, when the woman seemed to look around a bit, taking it to mean she was coming out of…whatever this was, "Are you alright? Do you need some help?"

Maisie suddenly turned to face her, making her jump, "I'm not mad."

Clara nodded slowly, not fully believing it, "Ok. I didn't say you were," thought it, certainly, but she wouldn't say it, not while the woman might still be a tad unstable, "But you've had a bad day. I think anybody could do with a little bit of help after a day like today."

Maisie eyed her a moment before turning to a panel in the wall, "Computer, open the door."

"Call me Gus," the computerized voice replied, "I'm afraid this door can only be opened by executive order."

Maisie pouted and reached out to push the buttons on the keypad below the panel, her pressing getting more furious and desperate as it failed to work.

"Are you ok?" Clara repeated.

Maisie spun around once more, though this time she burst into sobs, "They won't let me see her body. They should let me see her body, shouldn't they?"

"Yeah, I should think so," Clara moved over to the woman, putting an arm around her to comfort her, half wishing Angel was there right now, the woman always had such a calming presence it would be sure to help Maisie, "It's in there, is it? Ok, I have a friend who's really good with locks. And if he can't do it, his…wife…has ways of getting into places," she tried to offer the woman a reassuring smile, "Do you want to come with me, see if we can find them?"

Maisie merely jerked away from her and slammed the heel of her shoe into the panel for her answer.

Clara could only blink as the panel sparked and the door slid open, "Or you could do that because...that works, too, apparently."

Maisie didn't hesitate another moment before hurrying into the room, leaving Clara little option but to follow before the door closed behind her.

The moment it shut, Clara couldn't help but feel a little grateful she hadn't gotten Tailor involved. If this was a trap or something dangerous looming, the Doctor would probably kill her if she put his daughter in the middle of it…without him or Angel around to keep them safe at least.

~8~

Despite the late hour, there were still a handful of people in the lounge car of the train, having midnight snacks, reading, working on things they didn't have time to do during the day. The Doctor looked around, trying to spot a Mr. Emil Moorhouse, whom Perkins had told them was the leading expert on 'the Foretold', a mummy-creature no one could see, whose remains were currently aboard the train. Angel reached out and took his hand, leading him over to a man sitting quietly in the corner and reading a book.

Angel had just opened her mouth to greet the man politely, when the Doctor beat her to it by pointing at him the moment they got near enough, "What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?"

The man startled, looking up at them, "I'm terribly sorry, I don't believe we've met."

The Doctor still forewent the introductions, the need to know about this potentially threatening invisible mummy more important than sharing names. The more he learned about this thing, the more on edge he felt about being on the train with his Mate, his Daughter, and his sister there too, "You know, the Foretold, mythical mummy. Legend has it that if you see it, you're a dead man."

"Yes…" the man eyed him, "I know what it is. You see, I happen to be..."

"Professor Emil Moorhouse, expert in alien mythology," Angel cut in this time, though she at least followed it with, "I'm Angel, and this is the Doctor," she reached out to shake his hand, "It's very nice to meet you."

The Doctor managed the briefest handshake in history, before he moved to sit down across from the man in another small armchair, tugging Angel down with a tiny squeak into his arms, onto his lap. He stared at Moorhouse as though nothing had happened, expectation clear in his expression, "So, the most interesting thing about the Foretold...go!"

Moorhouse floundered for a moment, startled by the odd man's actions, "Ah...um, well, it would have to be the time limit given before it kills you. I can't think of another myth where it's so specific. How does it go? The number of evil twice over...they that bear the Foretold's stare...have 66 seconds to live."

"No," Angel gave him an apologetic smile, "That's not what he finds most interesting."

"Nice try," the Doctor added, "Very atmospheric. Try again."

"A cynical man might say you that were trying to pump me for information," Moorhouse remarked, starting to find it both amusing and suspicious.

The Doctor maneuvered himself so one arm was around Angel, the other reaching into his coat pocket to pull out a thin case and place it on the table, "The myth of the Foretold first appeared over 5,000 years ago. In some stories, there is a riddle or secret word that is supposed to make it stop. Some characters try to bargain with it, offer riches, confess sins. All to no avail."

Angel bit back a laugh when the Doctor opened the case…to offer Moorhouse the jelly babies that were inside.

Moorhouse reached out and took one of the sweets, "Well, you certainly know a little mythology."

"I know a lot," he shrugged, "Because, from time to time, it turns out to be true."

Angel couldn't help but muse about all the myths regarding the Doctor, from so many different civilizations and species, from the wizard in fairy tales to legends of his grandeur. The Lonely God who wasn't so lonely any longer.

'And his angel,' he reminded her in his mind, sensing where her thoughts had gone, 'There's quite a lot written about you, too.'

She leaned back in his arms, resting more comfortably, a little pleased both with his words and his actions. He was so warm around her and Tailor, it was so easy to forget at times, how he could react to humans in this incarnation. He'd been around them for so long in Christmas, without being able to leave them, seen so many generations, over and over. He had told her how tired he was of humans after that. It was one thing to take a human along for an adventure or two (or more), or to appear in human civilizations or events for a brief time. To see them in different settings and eras and situations. But to be so confined as to remain among them for so long…it had tried even HIS patience with the species. He had had his fill of humans, he just wanted something different.

And it was hard for him, because he had had to protect those people every waking (and unwaking) hour for so many centuries, he just wanted them to handle themselves, to not need him ALL the time. He was frustrated now, when humans acted like 'pudding brains' because it just reminded him of all that time he'd wasted on Christmas. But he would never be that person to turn his back on someone in danger or in need.

Clara being around didn't help his conflicting emotions either. He loved the girl like a sister, but he also felt like an older brother who just had their little sister tagging along and irritating him all the time. But he did love Clara, he knew his Mate and Daughter adored her, and he would never just leave her or kick her out of the TARDIS. For a brief moment, Angel knew, he had thought that he would look forward to the day when Clara wanted to stop the adventures, so he could go off and do something new and not HAVE to come back to Earth each week for their trips. Part of him had tried to push her away, a tiny part of him, maybe he had subconsciously lumped Clara in with every other 'pudding brain' at times to make it easier when that moment inevitably came…or perhaps to nudge her in that direction in the first place.

Humans promised forever, but never actually saw it through.

Now that Clara actually was asking them for her last trip, he was regretting ever feeling that, because now he was losing his sister and he didn't know how to handle that.

Angel shook herself from her thoughts and turned, pressing a kiss to his cheek, hoping she helped even a little with enduring the situation he'd found himself in now.

'Always,' was his reply in her mind.

~8~

Two chefs were hard at work in the kitchen car of the train, getting things prepped for the morning, making sure they were well stocked on caffeine, lord help them all if their patrons didn't have their morning coffees.

One of the chefs looked up, nearly jumping back when he spotted a mummy, the Foretold, standing across the room, "What's that?"

"What?" his partner looked up, glancing to where his friend was looking and frowning at nothing.

The first chef backed away when the Foretold reached out with a jerking motion, a breathy growl emanating from it, "What IS that?!"

~8~

"But that's the great appeal, isn't it?" Moorhouse was speaking, grinning excitedly at the Doctor and Angel.

However, the Time Lords were a little less giddy, the Doctor looking at Angel as she began to frown at something…

~8~

The chef backed away even more forcefully, knocking into things as he went, the rest of the kitchen staff eyeing him warily. HIM, not the creature coming at him.

"Can't you see?" he begged of them.

~8~

"Earth legends are such dry, dusty affairs, and always fiction," Moorhouse huffed, "But up here, in the stars…"

Angel looked away slowly, like she was seeing something on the floor or listening for something on the other side of the room.

~8~

"What are you talking about?" the second chef tried to approach him, confused and alarmed.

"Get it away!" his friend shouted, waving his arms to try and keep the thing back.

~8~

"…anything's possible," Moorhouse finished, "That's why I chose this field, to be honest, hoping one day I might meet a real monster."

"Isn't that everyone's dream?" the Doctor asked, if just to keep the man talking, though his own attention was on Angel as she tensed. She was feeling something building, but it was just on the cusp of her grasp, "But you still haven't answered my riddle. What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?"

"Well, you can't run from it, that's for sure. There are accounts of people trying but it never works. No matter how far you run, it's always right behind you."

~8~

"There's nothing there!" the second chef insisted.

But his friend could not be comforted, "Can't you see it?!"

"Calm down."

The man grabbed the nearest thing to him, a knife, and slashed at the Foretold, desperate to keep it back, "Get it away! Get it away!"

"What's wrong with him?" the second chef turned to a handful of security that ran into the room.

"Get it away! No. Get it away!"

The second chef jerked forward when his friend bolted for the freezer, trying to stop him from locking himself inside, "What is going on?"

"Stumpy, open the door," one of the staff came over, knocking on the door, trying to get him to open it.

"Yeah, open the door!"

Stumpy, the poor man, let out a startled scream when he turned around to see the Foretold behind him, IN the freezer with him.

"Get out!" he could hear his friend shouting to him, but he paid not heed to it, backing away as the Foretold reached out for him.

"He's unhinged!" one of the staff was yelling.

Stumpy tried to jerk back as the creature grabbed both sides of his head, causing him to scream even as he slid down the wall in one last desperate bid to escape it's hold.

"No!" the chef called, hearing the noise, "Stumpy!"

~8~

Angel slowly got up off the Doctor's lap, moving around the car, his eyes on her even as he spoke with Moorhouse, "Nope. Even colder."

Angel paused at that word, cold…she felt cold. Why did she feel cold? If it wasn't her…WHO was cold?

"Alright," Moorhouse shrugged, "I give up, you tell me."

"Mrs. Pitt, the old woman who died…"

Angel moved over to the wall of the car, reaching out to touch it, expecting it to be freezing to the touch, but it wasn't…

"She died of old age," Moorhouse argued, "Nothing supernatural."

"No," the Doctor shook his head, "That's my answer."

"Her death?"

Angel shivered as a chill crept up her spine, and gasped quietly, knowing what that meant…

"No. The fact that you were here to witness it."

Angel suddenly spun around to look over her shoulder, before she ran out of the room, the Doctor up and on his feet, following her, in seconds, mere moments before a commotion broke out in the corridors. The Doctor didn't pay much mind to that, instead following Angel as she led them right for the kitchen car.

They came to a stop in the doorway, lightly pushing past a few of the staff that had gathered to see what was happening, Captain Quell was already within, a body of a chef lying on the floor of the open freezer.

"It was a heart attack," the man was saying to the kitchen staff, "And if I hear anyone spreading rumors to the contrary, they'll be getting off at the next station, termination papers in hand. Are we clear?"

Angel's gaze drifted down to where two men had lifted the poor chef and placed him in a body bag, zipping it closed.

She looked at the Doctor, a deep frown on her face, 'It wasn't a heart attack,' she told him, sure, now understanding what she'd been feeling before, 'It was the Foretold.'

The Doctor could only nod, guessing the same.

Well, it appeared this trip just got interesting.

Chapter Text

Clara frowned as she worked on the lock to the strong room, pulling and tugging on the wires of the panel. Maisie may have been able to get the door open from one side, but now they were rather trapped and needed to get out from the other side. She didn't want to risk breaking this panel in case it just locked them in so much that not even the sonic could get them out. She knew, worst case, Angel could teleport in there for them or fly the TARDIS to land around them and then move them out…but she also didn't want to have to make the Time Lords do that.

She was SURE she could work out a way. She had the memories of a Time Lady, a Time Agent, and a genius junior entertainment officer in her head, somewhere, it must be in there how to rewire the panel. She just…had to be very careful.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Maisie asked her, watching her struggle.

"Nope," she could admit, it looked familiar but there wasn't a solid picture in her head of what to do just yet, "But I do need to be slightly more skilled than a high-heeled shoe."

Maisie chuckled at that, feeling a bit embarrassed now that they were trapped, but she soon fell quiet and contemplative, "Do you ever wish bad things on people?"

"Oh, yeah," Clara said absently, twisting two wires together, "All the time. Whoever designed this door, for a start."

Maisie nodded, thoughtful, "She wasn't really my mum. She just made me call her that. She was my gran. Do you know why I wanted to see her body?"

Clara stopped working, tense now as she turned to face the woman, sincerely hoping that it was for the reason she was thinking...though Maisie's voice and tone made her reconsider that, "Because you...loved her very much and were missing her?"

Maisie snorted lightly, "You obviously never met her. No, I just felt really guilty. Like I'd been picturing her dying for years. Like a daydream. Not really meaning it. At least, I don't think I did. But now, it just feels like I made this happen."

Clara nodded slowly, understanding. She had had a number of talks with Angel over their travels about her visions and how they worked and if she was ever worried that she created the future just by seeing it, or that she changed things for the worse by trying to stop what she saw. The woman had admitted that, when she was younger, she would dream sometimes, not as powerfully or frequently as now. Every so often, she'd dream something…and then see it happen and she would fret endlessly that she had somehow caused it to happen by dreaming it. That she wasn't seeing the future, she was seeing something she wanted to happen and then it did.

Her mother had been the only one to know of her dreams, to reassure her it was just a dream.

Angel knew now that it wasn't, but back then it had been what she'd needed to hear.

She knew the Time Lady also regretted, now that she had hindsight, that she had never said anything to anyone else about her abilities. Visionaries were trained, taught, they practiced what they could do and learned from others who knew what to do. Angel didn't have any of that now, she was working it out as she went. What could she see or hear? Why did she see it specifically when she did? Why didn't she see everything? How far into the future could she see?

There was no one to teach her except her own experiences and experiments.

On one hand, Angel was partly relieved she hadn't been taught. SO many Visionaries on Gallifrey tended to go nutty near the end, driven mad by what they saw. They were used by the High Council, forced to look where other Time Lords avoided looking. It was damaging to look on purpose, to strain their abilities to look that far ahead to try to find the certain future or examine the possible ones for the best course of action. On the other hand, it would have been less frightening to know what to expect or be taught tricks and tips to help her.

And there was no one around to teach her how to discern which futures HAD to happen, not as fixed points, but to avoid worse futures. Like with River Song. Angel had told her about the woman, what happened, how she came to be. Angel had seen Amy and Rory lose their child to Kovarian and tried to save the girl…in the end, it had just made everything so much worse. River's life had been harsher than it would have been, being human now and not part-Time Lord like the Silence had once hoped, River had nearly not been born, and Tailor had been taken from them instead.

Just because Angel had tried to help.

She knew Angel still felt enormous guilt for the hand she'd played in all of it, she had created a worse future by altering what she had seen.

She shook her head and moved over to Maisie's side, putting an arm around her shoulder, the woman growing more distraught the longer the silence lasted, "Hey, listen. You didn't do anything wrong. Difficult people, they can make you feel...all sorts of things," she nearly huffed out a laugh as she thought about the times she wanted to punch the Doctor in the face, he was THE most difficult person in the world…unless you were Angel or Tailor, then he was a big old softy wrapped around their fingers, "But you didn't do it. You didn't kill her. She just...died."

"Are you sure about that?" Maisie asked quietly, like she wanted to believe it but couldn't.

Clara nodded, before her gaze drifted around the room to a large sarcophagus-like object, like a cross between that and an iron maiden, standing at the end of the room. She moved to stand, going back to the panel, she was getting the creeps being around that thing and wanted to get out.

She'd give herself five more minutes of trying before getting the Time Lords involved.

~8~

Angel and the Doctor followed after Captain Quell as he strode through the corridors of the train, not about to let the man just walk off after what they'd seen, what Angel had felt. It hadn't been a vision, it hadn't been a sensation of something about to happen, she'd felt what Stumpy was feeling as he felt it, his fear, his terror, his panic, the chill of the freezer, the grip of the Foretold's hand on her head…

She had felt his rising tension when no one believed what he was seeing for they couldn't see the mummy.

His emotions had been so heightened, so powerful, she'd felt it all the way in the lounge car.

"I think we need to talk," the Doctor confronted the man, none too pleased with what his Mate had endured.

He could have ignored it, had it been just Mrs. Pitt, the woman so old she truly COULD have just had an episode and died. He might have even been able to convince himself that that Stumpy fellow had died of a heart attack too, with enormous effort. But he would NOT ignore what his Mate had felt while it happened, and he knew she would not ignore that a human had felt such turbulent emotions before dying.

And he knew his daughter would be furious with him if he ushered them away without trying to save the humans should the mummy attack again.

He'd be furious with himself as well.

"This matter does not concern the passengers," Quell began.

The Doctor reached out a hand to grab the man's arm, turning him so sharply that the man stumbled into the wall, "I'm not a passenger," he told the man, his expression grim and dangerous, "I'm your worst nightmare."

Angel reached out a hand on his arm, knowing his Mating instinct was on the verge of acting up now that there was a true and present danger to his Mate and child in the vicinity. But she was not in danger right that very moment, nor was their daughter, he needed to be calm or the humans would panic…and she had seen what humans on a capsule could do to each other when hysteria was high. This may not be Midnight, but the situation was too similar. A creature they couldn't see causing panic and fear.

The Doctor took a single calming breath at her action, and yanked the psychic paper out of his pocket to nearly shove in the man's face.

"A mystery shopper," Quell's eyes widened, "Oh, great…"

The Doctor blinked at that, momentarily startled out of his mounting rage at how utterly ridiculous it was that he should say he was the man's worst nightmare only for that to turn out to be a mystery shopper.

"Really?" he pulled the paper back, looking at it and then at Angel.

"I can't see it, my love," she reminded him, a bit disappointed. She never had been able to see the paper with her own eyes. Through his, yes, but not her own.

"Yes, well, genius," he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to her hair.

"Psychic," she countered firmly of the belief that that was the only reason she couldn't see it, psychic canceled out psychic.

"Thief," he pointed to himself, before seeming to remember that Quell was still RIGHT there and he had a ridiculous nightmare, "That's your worst nightmare?" he had to ask the man, of all the pudding brained things to be afraid of. He huffed to himself and shook his head, "Ok, I'm a mystery shopper. I could do with an extra pillow and I'm very disappointed with your breakfast bar."

"And the random deaths that have occurred," Angel added, knowing he could get on a tangent about all the things he didn't like about something quite easily.

"Yes," the Doctor snapped his fingers, putting the paper away, "And all of the dying."

Quell looked around at the doors to the sleeping compartments and sighed, "This is not a conversation to be had here," he told them, "Come with me."

~8~

There were quite a number of framed certificates on the wall of Quell's office, the Doctor noted, as he and Angel stood in the room, the man pouring himself a drink.

"This is not exactly within your job description…" Quell began, though he knew he would probably have to talk to the man more about the deaths so he would know, as a mystery shopper, that this was NOT typical for a journey on the Orient Express.

"Come on, Captain," the Doctor turned to face him, "Where would we all be if we all followed our job descriptions? Hmm? Though," he paused, considering it, "Angel's very good at hers," he offered the woman a smile.

Angel rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "As are you, my love. Being a Doctor suits you."

He grinned at that, knowing that she was also thinking of their daughter too, sure she would live up to her title as well in time. He glanced over at Quell, "It's a good question, isn't it?" he asked the man, "In your case, you'd be doing something instead of climbing inside a bottle."

Quell gave him a firm look, "I have followed the procedure for accidental death to the letter," he informed them, sitting behind his desk.

"Yes," the Doctor snorted, "I'm sure you have. And I'm sure you do just enough of your job to avoid complaints."

Quell glared at him, "You don't know anything about me."

The Doctor nodded, "Maybe," before he glanced at Angel, "Angel?"

Angel looked at the man, empathetic, "You were wounded in battle," she told the man, "Before being honorably discharged," she tilted her head, her expression growing more sad, "You've fought for so long, you're just...so tired," Quell looked away, but she continued, "You wanted peace. So you took this job, because you thought it would be simple, until you could retire."

"Well, I'm sorry," the Doctor crossed his arms as he eyed the man, "As of today, that dream is over."

"That was quite rude, my love," Angel murmured to him, he was quite harsh as well.

The Doctor just shrugged, sometimes you had to be hard and rude to get people to fight back.

"There is no evidence of any attack or other parties..." Quell began to defend himself.

"Yes, let's just sit around and wait for the evidence while the bodies pile up," the Doctor rolled his eyes, "Or, here's a crazy thought...we could do something to stop it," he watched the man closely, but Quell just gave him a blank look that had him shaking his head, "Why are we even talking to you?" he huffed, before turning to walk out of the room.

Angel could only offer the man an apologetic look before going after the Doctor. She knew exactly why he had been talking to Quell instead of looking elsewhere for clues…because if he spoke to that man, he wouldn't have to bother Clara or wake Tailor. He really had been hoping the man would help them sort this out before breakfast…some humans were just…tired.

"Hello Mr. Perkins," Angel spoke as they stepped out of the room to see the man standing there, just outside the office, with his arms filled with rolls of paper.

"Passenger manifest, plan of the train, and a list of stops for the past six months," he stated, handing the papers off, as requested.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Perkins," Angel smiled at him, helping to take some of the documents.

"Quick work, Perkins," the Doctor complimented, before giving him a side-eyed look, "Maybe too quick."

"Yes, sir, I'm obviously the mummy," Perkins deadpanned, "Or perhaps I was already looking into this."

Angel smiled, "It's the second one," she told the Doctor, knowing how suspicious he could be.

The Doctor let out a small huff of mock-disappointment, couldn't it be easy, just this once? Where the enemy was clear cut and obvious? He shook his head, nodding his head to the side in a gesture to follow him, before they walked off.

~8~

Clara had given up working on the panel, and was giving herself another five minutes to come up with something before she reached out to the Time Lords. It was one of the brief moments where she felt…inadequate. Often she didn't know what was going on or what alien was after them or why they were running (HOW had the Doctor insulted some species this time?), but there was always something going on to distract her of that. She could do as instructed, because the Doctor knew how to defeat the enemy, and not feel bad for not working it out herself.

But in times like these, where there WAS time, to sit and think…and still not have a plan or way out, was when she felt disappointed in herself. She saw so much and learned so much from the Time Lords, she had memories of geniuses in her head…but couldn't undo a lock?

She let out a little huff at the thought, wishing Angel was there, she would at least make her feel less stupid, the Doctor would undoubtedly make some offhand comment that would make her want to slap him and not realize he'd done it.

"Those people you were with," Maisie began, if just for something to talk about, "What are they like? The Doctor and his wife? They have a daughter too, yes?"

Clara smiled at the thought of them, "They're great," she looked at Maisie, "He's my brother," she added…because that might be the last time she'd be able to say it to someone who wasn't 'in the family' already.

"You don't look alike," Maisie commented.

"Not all siblings do," Clara shrugged, before offering, "Adopted," if it would help the woman believe it.

"And you…live with them?"

"No," she shook her head, "I've got my own place, my own life," she didn't know if she could add her own 'family' just yet, she didn't know where she stood with Danny yet, "We just…we travel together, a lot. He's an…explorer, always wanting to see more and learn more. Angel keeps him out of too much trouble and Tailor keeps him from doing things that are too dangerous. They invite me with them," she sighed, "We've had a good run."

"You're…not travelling with them anymore?" Maisie frowned. Clara had sounded heartbroken about it…so why stop?

"No," Clara swallowed hard, "This is a...a goodbye to the good times. Our last."

Maisie gave her an odd look, before exaggeratedly looking around the room they were trapped in, "Were the good times all like this?"

Clara chuckled heartily at that, "Now that you mention it..." she trailed off, growing a little more solemn, "That's why we're stopping," she admitted, needing to talk to someone that wasn't a Time Lord about the truth behind her decision, "My...suitor," she supplied, guessing Maisie might not know what a boyfriend was, she seemed old-fashioned like that, "He…he's not happy about it, about how the good times end up being like this."

"He told you to stop traveling," Maisie guessed.

"In a way," Clara sighed, "It's not like I really WANT to stop, but…I have a real chance at something with him and…and I love him, a lot, I want to have a life with him. And…and if I have to give this up to have it, shouldn't I?"

Maisie was quiet, looking at Clara thoughtfully, "Would they want you to give him up?"

"What?"

"Your brother, his family," Maisie clarified, "Would they want you to give up your suitor for them?"

"No," Clara said simply, they'd already proven it. When she asked to leave, they would let her, because she said it would make her happy. They just wanted her happy, whether travelling with them or living on Earth.

"Then it doesn't seem fair," Maisie said simply, "Shouldn't you pick what will make YOU happiest?"

Clara was silent at that.

She'd been looking at it from Danny's point of view, so guilty for how she'd kept the travels from him, didn't share all the wonders she'd seen. He'd been so hurt and so angry at the lies. When he'd said he couldn't handle all this, she'd thought…then maybe it was right that she give it up. Because she'd had it and kept it from him and maybe it was only fair that she give it up so she could keep HIM. Danny would probably be very happy if she gave up the travelling even if it made her happy.

She hadn't even really thought about how the Time Lords wouldn't be happy if she gave up Danny, because they knew he also made her happy.

~8~

The Doctor, Angel, Moorhouse, and Perkins gathered around a security camera in the engineer's room, watching footage of the dining car, where Mrs. Pitt had passed on, the Doctor with a stopwatch in his hand, timing it based on when Angel had indicated he should start. Mrs. Pitt had seen the mummy before she'd spoken about it, and he wanted to make sure he got the exact second she saw it.

"No!" Mrs. Pitt was crying out, "No! Get it out! Argh!"

Angel looked away as the woman slumped down, her life snuffed out by the Foretold. She hated death.

"66 seconds," the Doctor announced as he stopped the watch, "It fits the myth," he glanced at the others, "Did you see the lights flicker?"

Moorhouse nodded, though Perkins was the one to answer, "Yeah, the lights went in the kitchen as well just before the chef saw it."

"In all of the accounts, conventional weapons have no effect on the Foretold," Moorhouse stated, "It's immortal, unstoppable...unkillable."

Perkins didn't seem amused, turning to the Doctor, "Can we get a new expert?"

The Doctor just chuckled, "We've faced immortal, unstoppable, unkillable enemies in the past. And do you know what happened to them?" he asked the men, before nodding at Angel, "She did."

Angel shook her head at him, ignoring the wide-eyed, albeit skeptical, looks Moorhouse and Perkins turned on her, "I'm fairly certain, YOU have stopped more enemies than I did, my love."

He grinned a tad darkly at that, a warmth filling him, soothing the Mating instinct at the knowledge that he HAD. HE had stopped worse enemies than this in the past, HE had kept his Mate and daughter safe then and he would again now. He just had to work out how.

~8~

Angel smiled lightly as she placed a blanket over Perkins and Moorhouse, the two men having fallen asleep where they were sitting. They were either bored of the Doctor peering over all the papers in surprising silence, or truly just tired. It WAS still quite late, or early, depending how one looked at it, and they had been awake for some time now. They deserved to rest when they could. She looked up when she felt eyes on her to see the Doctor watching her, his own smile soft and fond.

"An angel," he murmured, "I always say it."

"It's not angelic to have basic human decency," she countered easily, moving back over to his side, winding her arm through one of his and looking down at the papers scattered around.

He let out a long sigh, sliding a hand down his face, "It can't be helped," he muttered, looking to her apologetically, as though it was his fault what was going to come next.

Angel shook her head, knowing what he was worried about. The more he learned about the Foretold, the grimmer it became, the more complicated, and the more dangerous. As much as he had hoped to keep this quiet from Clara and Tailor, it was becoming too much of a threat to keep them in the dark any longer. They needed to know what was happening, even if it ruined Clara's last trip.

She moved over to the wall, holding up the phone that was attached to it to the Doctor. He moved to her side, sonicing it to connect to Clara's mobile. The train compartments, the sleeping ones, didn't have phones in them. They would have to go wake up Tailor themselves, but Clara had her mobile. The poor daughter had been trying to talk them into giving her a mobile, citing she was old enough and that it would be helpful if they were ever separated on an adventure. Which, in hindsight, had been the WRONG thing to say to the Doctor who had promptly refused to listen because, in his mind, there was no future where he would ever allow himself to be separated from his daughter while there was a danger without him knowing exactly where she was at any given time.

"Doctor!" Clara's voice gasped in his ear, echoing in Angel's mind.

"Time for breakfast," he cheered, trying to open with some good news before moving to the bad, that was how humans did it right? He shrugged, "Knowing this train, it'll taste amazing."

"Doctor, please, I'm in trouble…"

"Can't even get that right. Bad food on trains is traditional."

"Doctor, please, just..."

"Listen, there's been another mummy murder. So our last hurrah just became a bit more interesting."

"I'm trapped!" Clara cut in with a huff.

"What?" the Doctor gaped.

Angel merely let out a light laugh, leaning in to move the phone from his grip by his ear, to held up slightly more so she could speak into it, "ARE you?" she asked.

~8~

In the storeroom compartment, Clara frowned at her mobile, before hurrying to her feet to try the door once more.

She hadn't even gotten her hand anywhere near the control panel when it slid open to reveal Tailor on the other side, holding the heeled shoe in one hand and a regular old screwdriver in the other.

Tailor blinked, almost startled to see them, "Um…has someone lost a shoe?"

Clara just jumped through the doorway, Maisie hurrying out after her, to hug Tailor tightly to her, "What are you doing here?!" she exclaimed.

Tailor shrugged, "I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, went to explore the train."

Clara laughed, "You wandered off?"

Tailor gave her a wink, "Don't tell dad."

"Too late," the Doctor's voice spoke behind them as he and Angel appeared in the baggage car in a flash of gold, the man not looking pleased…so much so that Tailor winced and moved to hide behind her aunt, "That is not going to save you, sweetheart."

Tailor sighed, before stepping to Clara's side, "I had a bad feeling so I followed it," she told him, "I saw the shoe in the panel and tried to fix it. Must have tripped the door because it opened and Aunt Clara was there with Miss Maisie."

Angel, contrary to the Doctor, smiled at her daughter and moved to hug her from the side, "Very well done, beautiful."

Tailor beamed at that, pleased.

The Doctor let out a resigned huff, knowing he couldn't rightly chastise his daughter for doing something the girl's mother had been doing at the beginning as well. He wanted to encourage her sensations and abilities, not make her block them out, "Next time, Tailor," he began, and the girl knew it was serious by how he used her title, "You wait till one of us is with you before you wander. Understood?"

"But I couldn't wait," Tailor pointed out, "I felt like something had happened to Aunt Clara."

"Then you contact us to come to you."

"How?" Tailor argued lightly, crossing her arms, "You and mum wandered off first. If I can't wander to find Aunt Clara, how could I wander to find you?"

The Doctor opened his mouth like he was going to argue…when it fell flat because she did have quite a good point.

"Now if I had a mobile…" Tailor began.

"Oh, look," the Doctor cut in with a clearing of his throat, moving past her to the storeroom, eyeing the large sarcophagus beyond, "What's this?"

Tailor rolled her eyes, knowing it was his way of avoiding the topic, giving her mother a look when Angel could only chuckle beside her.

"Something wrong, my love?" Angel called, when he began to smack the sonic on his open palm.

"The stupid sonic screwdriver's not working," he grumbled.

Clara frowned, "What do you mean it's not working? Why?"

"I don't know. Some sort of suppression field, I would guess. And it has to be a guess because, as I say, the stupid sonic screwdriver's not working," he moved to flick it to a different setting, trying that instead.

"Aunt Clara," Tailor began, looking at the woman, "What were you doing in the storeroom in the first place?"

"Same as you," Clara sighed, "I was looking for them," she nodded her head between Angel and the Doctor.

The Doctor flicked the sonic again, growing more frustrated with the lack of functionality…when there was a sudden beeping, hiss noise coming from the sarcophagus, apparently one of the settings managing to unlock it as it slowly began to creak open.

"How did you do that?" Maisie asked, her eyes wide.

Before any of them could answer, the lights above them began to flicker.

"Angel?" the Doctor called to her, his gaze on the sarcophagus.

She nodded, knowing he wanted her to keep track of the next 66 seconds, trusting her sense of time more than his stopwatch.

Clara and Tailor took cautious steps towards the storeroom once more, following the Doctor as he approached the sarcophagus. Angel glanced at the door behind her as Maisie made her way after them too, though the woman kept closer to the wall and door than the middle of the room like the others.

A soft red light began to shine out of the sarcophagus, the doors widening…to reveal something wrapped in plastic bubble wrap within.

"What?" the Doctor and Tailor said as one.

Clara eyed the contents skeptically, "It's…full of bubble wrap?"

"I thought that didn't exist back then," Maisie remarked.

The Doctor frowned deeply, glancing up at the lights, "But the lights…"

"All of you, hide," Angel called out, "Captain Quell is coming."

Tailor reacted quickly, knowing they shouldn't be caught there, being passengers (for Maisie) and stowaways (for the rest of them). If the Captain saw them loitering about and going through a secure room like the storeroom, they could be in serious trouble, locked away and unable to help stop whatever it was that was happening. She may not know what was going on, but she knew it was something serious if her parents didn't want to get caught. She reached out and took Clara's arm, tugging her back and to the side of the wall so anyone in the baggage car wouldn't see them, Maisie moving to hide on the other side of the door wall.

The Doctor had just dashed past them, jumping to Angel's side right as Quell walked through the door with two other guards at his side.

Angel glanced at the Doctor, '41 seconds,' she warned him in his mind.

He looked at her sharply, knowing what she meant even beyond the countdown. He had thought the Foretold would come out of the coffin when the lights went off. When the creature hadn't, he'd been confused because the lights had been a sign of its arrival but it wasn't there to defend itself, so maybe it had just been lights flickering. By Angel telling him the time, she was telling him she was sensing something WAS happening with the creature, just not yet and not in that room.

"Doctor," Quell glared at the man, gesturing for one of the guards to aim his gun at them, "Move away from the door. I spoke to head office. There is no mystery shopper. You and your family are not even on the passenger list!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes as the first guard and Quell himself stepped forward to handcuff their arms behind their backs. As though Angel wouldn't be able to get them out with the snap of a finger. But for now…he went along with it. He couldn't keep fighting against Quell at every turn while trying to stop this creature, he needed the man on his side, helping them, or this would take forever.

"I'm going to have to mark you down for this," he told the man as he was shoved on by him.

"You are not a mystery shopper," the man huffed, gesturing for the first guard to escort Angel along with them, "For all I know, you're the one behind the killings."

"He's a Doctor," Angel remarked as they were led out of the car, "He'd be the first one trying to stop them, don't you think?"

"Oh, come on, Captain," the Doctor huffed, "How many people have to die before you stop looking the other way?"

Tailor held onto Clara's arm, tugging her back when the girl moved to peek around the corner of the door to see if the guards had left, shaking her head to wait a moment longer. She held up 4 fingers, ticking them down every second until they heard the door shut firmly. Clara turned then, looking around, and sighing, "They're gone."

Tailor moved over to the baggage door, pushing on the panel, before turning to them, "But they've locked us in."

Clara nodded, "Makes sense," she remarked, rubbing her head, "They can't exactly lock the storeroom right now."

Maisie glanced over at the broken panel and winced, "Sorry."

Tailor offered her a smile, "It's alright," she told the woman.

"How is it alright? We're trapped!"

"No, we're not," Tailor insisted lightly, "We're just…inconveniently circumstanced."

Clara could only shake her head at the girl, "You are truly your father's daughter."

Tailor beamed and gave a mock bow for it.

~8~

'17 seconds,' Angel warned, tensing beside the Doctor.

It was then that they heard someone fire their gun in the lounge car ahead, and ran for it after Quell. They dashed in to see one of the guards had his gun out, was shooting at something across the room, those patrons mingling about the car having dove for cover to avoid any errant bullets.

"Get back!" the man was shouting, "Stay back!"

'12,' Angel called as the man fell to the floor, stumbling back, but still firing at something only he could see. She bit her lip and looked around. She could sense the man's fear and panic, she could even sense something else in the room, but she couldn't see it. In the worst way it comforted her just slightly, that there was something that couldn't be seen, but she could still sense it somewhat. It made her feel better about the Doctor's fear of an enemy coming about one day that no one could see or that she couldn't sense. She COULD sense even this one.

But it was odd, in a way, she could only sense it when it appeared, when the 66 seconds began but not before or after.

'9,' she swallowed hard, Quell running towards the man.

"What do you think you're doing, man?" Quell demanded.

But the guard was too terrified, screaming out, "Stop!" begging the Foretold that he could see from reaching for his head.

"Get up now!" Quell stormed over, "That's an order!"

Angel had to look away, burying her face in the Doctor's shoulder as she felt the man's fear spike, feeling something touching either side of her own head, moments before the sensation vanished and the guard slumped to the ground.

'0,' this time it was the Doctor who knew the time, his face grim and serious, turning his face to press a kiss to the top of Angel's hair, hoping it would comfort her as their hands were still bound. With Quell as angry and suspicious as he was now, them magically freeing themselves would not help them.

He watched as the train's doctor ran forward to check the guard, but they all knew there would be no pulse to be found. The poor man turned to glance at Quell, shaking his head in confirmation. Quell removed his hat in honor for the fallen man, Moorhouse, who had run in with Perkins, the two having heard the gunshots when they'd come looking for the two Time Lords, reached out to pick up the man's fallen gun, handing it to Quell.

"It turns out it's three," Quell muttered, answering the Doctor's question as he passed the gun to another guard. He glanced at the Time Lord, "The amount of people that had to die before I stopped looking the other way," he gestured for the guard still holding Angel's arm to remove their handcuffs.

"Thank you," the Doctor offered the man, a single politeness, before he turned to pull Angel into his arms.

It wasn't just the fear and panic she felt from these men, she felt them dying as well.

'I think I'm going to be sick if this doesn't stop soon,' she warned in his mind, a hand coming to rest on her stomach as it clenched and churned with upset. He could only press another kiss to her hair in a silent promise to try and stop it faster.

"Same as the others?" Perkins spoke, approaching them slowly, though he eyed Angel a little oddly. He'd woken in the engineering room, hearing the man on the phone with someone, only to start awake when they suddenly disappeared in a flash of golden light. He'd immediately smacked Moorhouse's arm till he jerked awake, half-dragging the man out of the room to find where they'd got to when they heard the bullets sounding.

Angel sniffled lightly, nodding as she pulled away from the Doctor in time to see two guards gently carrying the body out of the room. She looked around at the handful of people gathered in the car, having all just come down for breakfast and gotten shot at instead.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the Doctor called out to them, "Could we have a moment of your time, please? There's a monster on this train that can only be seen by those about to die."

Angel closed her eyes and shook her head, he probably could have phrased it better…but even she could understand the need for the bluntness. These people needed to know they were in danger, and what to expect, they needed to know someone was working to help them but they would all need to work together to do so.

"If you do see it," he continued, "You will have exactly 66 seconds left in which to live. But that isn't even the strangest thing. Do you know what is?" he snapped a finger and pointed at Angel.

"You," Angel told them, "All of you are experts in something, something that could help identify what this phenomena is."

He nodded, "Experts in alien biology, mythology, physics. If I was putting together a team to analyze this thing, I'd pick you. And I think somebody has. Someone of immense power and influence has orchestrated this whole trip," he looked around as though he could spot just who that might be.

Angel caught the way he glanced at her, as though she would point them out when he couldn't, and he had no doubt she could. She shook her head, silently telling him whoever it was was not currently ON the train.

"Someone who, I have no doubt, is listening to us right now," he added, glancing at the security cameras, the speakers near the top of the train walls, "So, are you going to step out from behind the curtain and give us our orders?"

"The engines," Perkins realized with a start, "They've stopped."

They all looked up as the lights flickered, the 1920s decorations all disappearing, taking its place was a modern styled laboratory of sorts.

"And the facade drops away because what use are a bunch of scientists without a lab?" the Doctor sighed, when he noticed a handful of passengers disappearing.

"Teleporter?" Perkins guessed.

"No," Angel answered instead. She had a sense of everyone in the room…except from those who vanished.

"Hard light holograms," the Doctor agreed, "They were never really here. Fake passengers to make up the numbers."

"That was my best guard," Quell muttered, still partly in shock that he'd lost a man just because some barmy individual wanted answers about something.

Angel looked up as a ting sounded above them.

"Good morning, everyone," the trains computer system spoke, "Around the room, you will find a variety of scientific equipment. Your goal is to ascertain the Foretold's true nature, probe for weaknesses with a view to capture, after which we will reverse engineer its abilities. Isn't this exciting?"

The Doctor frowned as the others began to examine the equipment, catching something else in the words spoke, "You said 'capture,' implying that you can't control this thing. And yet somehow you got it on board. How?"

"There is an artifact, an ancient scroll. I have highlighted it for your convenience," the lights changed so a spotlight was now shining on a scroll in a display case fixed into the wall at the end of the room, "For reasons currently unknown, the Foretold appears in the vicinity of this artifact."

"And kills at regular intervals."

"Then just maybe we should throw this thing out in the airlock," Quell suggested, striding towards it.

"No, don't!" Angel gasped, tugging him back before he could reach for the scroll.

The Doctor held up a hand, reaching out to pick up a pen from one of the tables, flicking it at the case, which buzzed with electricity, a force field of some sort sending it flying back at them with a sizzle.

"Looks like they've thought of that," Perkins remarked.

"What if we say no?" Moorhouse demanded, "Down tools. Refuse to work."

"That is your choice, of course," the computer spoke, "But it would be very upsetting were you all to die at the hands of the Foretold."

"So, hurry up before it kills you," Perkins finished the sentiment.

Angel shook her head, "Even if they try to work on this, how can they when they can't see what they're studying?"

"We don't even know what the species is," the Doctor agreed, only for the lights to flicker above them. He grew serious and grim once more, knowing what it meant, "Perkins," he called, tossing the man the stopwatch, not wanting to have to make Angel keep track of the time for something like this. He'd still been partly hoping it wasn't the Foretold last time, now he knew it was he wouldn't make her count down to someone's death, "Start the clock."

They were all quiet a moment, before Angel spun around to look at Moorhouse, feeling a spike of terrible fear shoot out of him.

"Approximately 1.8 meters tall," the man began to detail, maintaining as calm a head as he could, wanting to help the others before it was too late to do anything. Right now, with the creature across the room, he could do at least that, "Actually, seeing it in the flesh isn't nearly as rewarding as I thought it might be."

Angel's eyes filled with tears at the thought of the man, who had studied myths because he loved them, being killed by one, especially with him trying so desperately to help them.

"What can you see?" the Doctor and Perkins began to follow Moorhouse as he backed away from the Foretold, "Details."

Angel glanced between where he was and where he was looking, feeling him trying to tramp down his utter terror as long as possible.

"Yes," the man swallowed, "Yes, of course. Of course. Well, it just looks like...a man in bandages. I…"

"What kind of bandages? Old? New?"

"Old."

"Whole? Ragged?"

"Ragged. Falling off in places. I don't know what you want me to tell you."

"Listen!" the Doctor tried to keep him focused, "You can see it. We can't. Tell us what you can see. Even the smallest detail might help save the next one."

"The next one?" Moorhouse stuttered, "You mean...you can't save me?"

Angel's hearts broke at that, knowing there was 37 seconds left, and the man was trying so hard…but he was so afraid.

"Well, that is implied, isn't it?" the Doctor spoke, feeling like he was wasting precious time, "Yes, this is probably the end for you. But make it count! Details, please!"

"Erm...flesh...some of it is visible..." Moorhouse struggled.

"30 seconds," Perkins counted down.

"Leathery. Ancient looking. Peat bog preserved."

"Keep talking!" the Doctor urged, "Don't waste this chance!"

He needed to know, he needed to know everything possible about the creature, if he could, if he could just work it out, be faster than the creature, put it together sooner…he could stop this…

"I want to bargain for my life," Moorhouse said instead.

Angel closed her eyes tightly at that, at the utter breaking in his voice.

"What?" the Doctor blinked.

"Some of the myths say if you find the right word, make the right offer, it lets you go…"

Angel swallowed hard, opening her eyes and shaking her head. There were 18 seconds left, and the man was so, so afraid…she couldn't bear it.

"This is not a myth," the Doctor told him, 'This is real. Forget your superstitions. Tell us what you can see!"

"This is my life!" the man snapped, "My death! I'm going to fight for it how I want! I give you..." he looked at the mummy.

"10 seconds," Perkins murmured.

Angel took a breath and began to make her way to Moorhouse's side, not sure if it would work, what she was planning, but hoping beyond hope that it would.

"…my soul," the man offered the Foretold, "I confess all sins. I give you all my worldly goods. Only, please, please, please…" he gasped suddenly, the Foretold reaching out to touch his head as he struggled back, his fear overwhelming…

When...a warmth began to seep into him, a calm, a comfort, a…reassurance. He looked to the side, despite the Foretold gripping his head, to see Angel had taken his hand, was holding it tightly, as though she wanted him to know he wasn't alone.

In his final moments, he felt the fear flutter away, felt the pain recede from his mind, as he just…felt like he was falling asleep though he knew it was far more final a sleep than any.

Angel lurched forward, feeling the man slump, the Foretold having taken his life, but she caught him before he could fall, the Doctor lunging to help her move to rest the man on the floor.

"0," Perkins whispered, grim.

The Doctor, however, wasn't looking at the man, but at Angel, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open. He hadn't felt it till the very end, hadn't realized what she was going to do till she'd already taken Moorhouse's hand. She couldn't stop it, not even Angel could do it yet, but…she hadn't wanted the man to die in fear or in pain, so she'd done what she could to make it as painless as possible…like falling asleep instead of being cut off in agony. She had managed to take her empathic psychic abilities and transmit a feeling to someone else instead of just feeling what everyone else felt. He always felt comforted when she was near, she had a way of calming him, reassuring him, just her presence worked wonders on others...he'd never seen it so concentrated towards one person before.

'You are truly an angel, Nella,' he whispered in her mind.

But she could only look back at him in tears, 'Not if I couldn't stop this.'

'I couldn't either,' he reminded her, 'And I'm a Doctor, it's my job.'

He only barely managed to keep the briefest flittering of a thought from reaching her mind, casting it out of his own before it could even be formulated. In that moment, for the smallest fraction of a second, he had connected her with an Angel of Death, come to take others to the next life, to comfort them in their passing.

But no, that was NOT his Angel, not his Mate, she was such a woman of light and life, the Life Bringer her, and he would not torment her with such a thought either, knowing it would break her hearts to be associated with something she herself hated to witness, death.

"We apologize for any distress you may have just experienced," the computerized voice cut through the room, "Grief counselling is available on request. On the bright side, I'm sure you've all collected a lot of data. Well done, everyone!"

Perkins looked up at the speakers where the voice was coming from, before noticing the cameras beside it, "It's recording every death."

"Of course it is," the Doctor spoke, his voice hoarse, "That's why we're here...to study our own demise," he took a breath, reaching out a hand to help Angel to her feet but not letting go of it once they stood, "So, let's get to work. Come on. Chop, chop!"

The humans moved to grab a lab coat from a pile, putting it on and doing just that, getting to work.

~8~

The humans were hard at work, everyone checking all the information they had, scouring all the documents that had been provided for them, when Angel moved to a table and pick up the phone resting on it just as soon as it rang.

"Hello Clara," she spoke into it.

"What's wrong?" was Clara's immediate question.

Angel felt a small smile crack on her face, also hearing Tailor in the background asking what happened, what was wrong, "The Foretold has been active."

It was all she needed to say for them to understand what had happened, that another person had died.

"I'm sorry."

Angel nodded to herself, handing the phone to the Doctor to speak to them before sitting down and closing her eyes, trying to get some sort of sense about what might happen next, some sort of vision. She felt rather stressed though, an odd thing for her given her faith in the Doctor and her belief in her visions, but there was just something inside her that was more alarmed about this adventure than others. It always made it difficult to focus when she was worried.

The Doctor pressed the phone to his ear, his eyes on Angel as she tried to relax enough to see something, reaching out to take her hand in comfort as he spoke to them, "Has anything happened with you?"

"Besides being trapped in the baggage car?" Clara huffed, "No."

"We went through some stuff here, dad," Tailor called, her voice just slightly distant as she wasn't the one speaking into the phone, "There were a bunch of papers in the sarcophagus."

"Were there?"

"First things first," Clara spoke, "The sarcophagus is actually a secure stasis unit."

"Yes. It's where they want us to put the Foretold if we capture it."

"That would have been good to know," she grumbled, "Save us some time and a lecture from Tailor about how stasis units work."

The Doctor chuckled at that, smiling a little more when she saw how Angel cracked a smile at the mention of their daughter doing so, "Anything else?"

"Please terminate your call and return to work," the computer system called out.

Clara ignored it though, "We have some paperwork. Passenger manifests from other ships. Maisie recognized a couple of the names."

"Dad," Tailor spoke, her voice hesitant, "The other ships…they're missing now. Whatever's happening…this isn't the first time it has."

"Please terminate your call and return to work," the computer repeated.

"There's also some progress reports," Tailor added, "Tell him about the reports."

"Yeah," Clara did just that, "'The Gloriana' spent three days getting picked off by the Foretold. All died. Performance marked as 'poor.'"

The Doctor frowned, looking over at Angel when he felt her grip his hand tighter, a frown on her face as it scrunched up..

~8~

It was a difficult thing to do, for the chefs in the kitchen car, to go about their business as though one of their fellow staff hadn't keeled over only hours ago. But they had work to do and they needed to paid.

"Warning..." the computer system suddenly rang out, "Decompression imminent. Please vacate the area."

~8~

"'The Valiant Heart,'" Clara was saying, "42 crew, four died. Performance...'promising.'"

Angel gasped, her eyes snapping open with a shout of, "No!" before she disappeared in a flash of gold.

The Doctor had lunged forward with an "Angel!" on his lips, but missed her, the woman vanishing before his eyes, leaving him in the lounge alone…

~8~

The chefs began to scream and cry out as the kitchen car began to shake, struggling for footing, alarms beginning to beep in a signal that there was something terribly wrong with the air pressure…

There was a noise of explosion behind them, sending them to their knees, before a golden light flared around the room…

~8~

"Please terminate your call and return to work," the computer spoke again, drawing the attention of Quell and a handful of other passengers towards the Doctor. Though their gazes quickly drifted past him and to the windows where they could see kitchen utensils starting to float past…

"I think you should do as it says," Quell called to the Doctor, who was still frozen in place where he'd reached for Angel.

He didn't even hesitate to end the call with Clara, not caring how rude it was, his hearts racing at the sight of the utensils and kitchen equipment joining it…his hearts seizing at the fear of seeing more than just that, at seeing the kitchen staff about to float by…

The humans jumped back when a flare of golden light flashed in the middle of the room and suddenly there were a handful more people scattered about, on their knees, looking as though they had ducked for cover, Angel standing in the middle of them.

The Doctor flew to her side, pulling her into his arms as the flare of the Vortex dimmed and receded back inside her.

"Impressive," the computer's voice spoke, "But if you are disobedient again, I will decompress another area containing less valuable passengers and I do not think you can save everyone on this train, Miss."

Angel glared up at the speakers, "LESS valuable passengers?" she shook her head, "There is no such thing. EVERY life has the same value!"

That seemed to spark something in the Doctor's mind as he pulled away from her, "How does it choose?"

Perkins frowned, "Well, I'm assuming qualifications..."

"No," he shook his head, wincing at the thought of anyone trying to figure out who might be 'less valuable' than another, Angel was right, every life was worth the same, that wasn't what he was talking about though. He meant the exact individual life that would come next, "Not the computer, the Foretold. How does it choose who to kill? We've assumed it's random. What if it's not?" he looked at the other humans, "I want full histories on all the victims. Medical, social, personal."

"Well done," the computer spoke.

But the Doctor shot it a glare of his own, "Don't," he snapped, "You endangered my Mate with your little games. You don't want to know what I've done for less harms against her in the past."

Angel just wound her arms around his waist in a tight hug. She hadn't been able to save the victims of the Foretold, but at least she had been able to save the victims of the train's computer. And she knew, if it even tried to decompress another car, she would do it again, until there was only their car left if need be.

The others would be safe from the computer with her there, now they just had to keep everyone safe from the Foretold.

And if there was one person she trusted to be able to do it, it was the Doctor.

Chapter Text

Despite the terrible situation, Angel had a small smile on her face as she stood beside the Doctor, the two of them looking over Perkins' shoulder as he went through some of the reports. Right now…Tailor and Clara were safe, she could feel that in her bones, and the Doctor had refused to let go of her hand after the event with the kitchen car. It had unsettled her, how the computer and the person controlling it had such little regard for life. It bothered her even more that she couldn't see the Foretold or stop it, for all the power of the Vortex, she wasn't all that powerful in this situation. It wouldn't take power to stop this, but brains, and the Doctor had the greatest brain she'd ever seen.

It was a small comfort, after what happened to Moorhouse, that she could at least help those in the Foretold's hold to not feel such sheer terror at the end of their 66 seconds. She could provide that comfort at least, for no one deserved to die that alone and afraid. She had been thinking about her empathic abilities, how they had manifested first in how animals reacted around her, seeming comfortable with her presence and calmer. She hadn't even realized that was what it was at the time, but it made her think that if she naturally and without conscious effort could sooth animals...perhaps with some effort she could extend that to humans. The Doctor always said things seemed to be calmer when she was around, she had that sort of comforting aura to her, so she just tried to project that. It was a combination of how she could share emotions with the Doctor and how Time Lords could, with effort, send psychic messages to others with a telepathic ability. She used those principles to reach out to Moorhouse...she was just very relieved it worked.

"Doesn't seem to be any pattern," Perkins spoke with a sigh, having gone over the passenger records, "Their travel history, interests, health...it's all over the shop."

"Their health," Angel blinked, something about the word striking her more than the others.

The Doctor immediately latched onto it, "Are you sure? Mrs. Pitt, the first victim. She was over 100 years old, the frailest passenger on board."

"But the next to go, the chef, was young and fit," Perkins pointed out, "It's random."

"No…" Angel shook her head, "No, it's not," she looked at Captain Quell as he moved over, hearing them speaking about the chef, "He was ill, wasn't he?"

"What?" the Doctor turned to the man.

Quell nodded, "A rare blood disorder. Not contagious, but we kept it quiet."

"Because he worked with food. The next one..." the Doctor realized, "The guard?"

"He wasn't ill as such, but he did have synthetic lungs implanted last year."

"Perkins, could you check Professor Moorhouse's records?" Angel turned to the man, though he was already doing so. She had a strong feeling about Moorhouse, stronger than the others, like…she HAD to calm him down, like the fear he felt was too familiar to him and it was making it all the worse for him.

"It seems he was physically fine but suffering from..." Perkins squinted, "Here we are. 'Regular panic attacks after a car crash last year.'"

Angel let out a breath at that, well it explained why her reaction was so much stronger to him. Panic attacks made you feel as though you were dying, to be faced with the Foretold and know he likely was about to, and couple it with the past attacks…he was hurting so much worse than anyone else had. It resonated with her so much as a result.

"It's picking off the weakest first," the Doctor realized, "Sensing the illness somehow. The fake organs, even psychological issues. This is good news because it means we can work out who is next," he squeezed Angel's hand as he said it, this was not something he would want to use her powers for. It was one thing when she had a vision or a feeling out of nowhere that guided her to help another, but it was another to force her to look into who was going to be next. He didn't want that to have to hang over her head, to watch out for who was next on top of keeping her senses open for who the computer might decompress next or if their daughter was in danger or how long they had once the Foretold appeared. He didn't want to overtax her or spread her so thin she missed something. THEY could work out who was next without needing Angel to look to the future and he'd do anything to spare her that, "I want the medical records of everybody alive who is still on board. If anyone's had as much as a cold, I want to know about it."

Perkins nodded and got up to go get the records sorted.

"You really think it can sense psychological issues?" Quell asked, tense.

"Seems so. Why?"

"You were right about how I've lost the stomach for a fight," Quell began, "But you were wrong for why. I wasn't wounded in battle, as such. I…" he glanced at Angel in that moment, wanting to let her know it was alright that she had been wrong…when he saw the way she was looking back at him, so sadly, so empathically that he inhaled sharply. He understood, in that moment, that she hadn't been wrong at all. When she had said he'd been wounded in battle, she was being kind by not airing out such a traumatic experience for anyone to hear. She had been considerate of his past and only said as much as needed to be said at the time. But now…now more needed to be shared, "My unit was bombed. I was the sole survivor. Not a scratch on me. But post-traumatic stress...nightmares. Still can't sleep without pills."

Angel reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, offering him what comfort she could. Both she and the Doctor could understand something and someones suddenly ending and leaving them alone as the sole survivors. It was worse for the Doctor though, she had always had the faintest feeling that she wasn't alone. He hadn't.

The Doctor nodded, understanding the man's trauma all too well, before he grew grim and serious, "Which means that you are probably next. Which is good to know."

"Well, not for me," Quell countered.

"Well, of course not for you because you're going to die but I mean for us, from a research point of view."

"My love," Angel cut in, moving her hand from Quell to lightly grip the Doctor's arm, "Compassion."

The Doctor opened his mouth, about to remark that they couldn't afford it right now, not when there were only a handful of people left on the train, not when the Foretold was picking off the weakest among them. Because he knew, from those parameters alone, from being 'alien' on top of it, he, Angel, and Tailor would be the last ones standing, the strongest among the humans. He had his mind, Angel had the Vortex, and Tailor had her youth and strength in being unblemished and unscarred from the horrors of the things he and Angel had seen and experienced.

He couldn't risk it getting to that point, because he didn't know which of them the Foretold would go after first in that case. He would NOT allow his Mate or Daughter to be taken in such a manner, and he refused to let himself go either and leave them unprotected.

He was a Doctor, yes, he had a duty to care, of course, but sometimes Doctors HAD to distance themselves in order to help their patients. Getting too emotionally invested meant making mistakes, meant not noticing things because they were so worried. He could not risk it, he had to be distant, he had to be clinical in the strongest sense. He only had 66 seconds a person to gather information needed to save others and that was cut in half when the person in question realized the information they'd given hadn't been enough to save them and began to beg for mercy.

Let the humans think him a monster, a heartsless, uncaring, unfeeling monster if it meant he could stop the Foretold.

Before he could even utter a single word, though he was sure Angel had felt all he had in the brief moment it took him to open his mouth, the lights began to flicker…and Quell's gaze locked on something across the room.

"Well, there goes our head start," the Doctor mumbled, "Perkins, start the clock!" he called out, turning to Quell, "What can you see?"

Quell frowned as he eyed the mummy slowly approaching, tapping into any soldier quality he still had left in him to protect those around him, by staying calm and trying to help despite his mounting fear, "Almost feels out of focus. Gives me a headache just looking at it…"

"No," the Doctor shook his head when the man began to pull his gun out on the creature, "No, no. That didn't work before."

"What kind of soldier would I be, dying with bullets in my gun?" Quell asked, firing three times as the other passengers ducked down.

"A soldier can't stop until the other side surrenders," Angel murmured, so sad, her hearts breaking for the man.

"50 seconds," Perkins warned.

"Someone shut that man up!" Quell snapped, "For the record, it didn't even flinch."

The Doctor looked back across the room, "Where is it now?"

"Approximately 20 feet in front of me and closing."

The Doctor squeezed Angel's hand once more before releasing it to rush in that direction.

"40 seconds," Perkins whispered.

Angel glanced at him, then to Quell, before moving to his side and taking his hand. She didn't want it to be like with Moorhouse, where he only had the briefest second of comfort, not if she could help it. She watched Quell intently hoping she was able to ease the situation even the smallest amount.

"Am I close?" the Doctor asked, frowning deeply as he looked between Quell and Angel, not wanting his Mate to be so close to the man who was about to die, but knowing she felt she had to do this, her own way of helping. He was using his mind to work this out, she was using her abilities to try and help others when he couldn't work it out in time.

Quell looked slightly queasy, watching as the Foretold walked through the Doctor, its fingers passing through the man's face first, "It's passing right through you, like a ghost."

"It's not a hologram," Perkins called out, a device in his hand he was scanning the room with.

"If you move, will it follow?" the Doctor called to Quell.

Quell, for his part, felt…not content, no one would be content when they were about to die as he knew he was, but…the girl next to him, at least he wasn't alone, at least he wasn't on the battlefield far away, lying on the ground and bleeding out. At least he was doing something with his life, what was left of it, helping to save others like he couldn't save his brothers-in-arms, "Do you want me to move?" he cleared his throat, nodding, "I can certainly do that."

"Keep looking at it. But back off quick as you like."

Quell tightened his hold on Angel's hand without realizing it, backing up quickly as he was told, nearly dragging the woman with him. He'd put some distance between himself and the Foretold, when the lights flickered and Angel tugged his hand, half turning him and guiding him to back away again. The Foretold was right behind him.

"I think it teleported," Angel frowned, she'd felt its presence before her and then suddenly behind.

Quell nodded, "It did," he confirmed, "It went behind me."

"20 seconds," Perkins called.

Quell swallowed hard, staring at the Foretold as it approached, not feeling the flash of fear he had when he first saw it. He tugged Angel's hand a little more, moving to place his other hand on hers, drawing courage from the woman beside him, willing to face this creature down with him, not knowing if it would go after her for it, simply so he wouldn't be alone. He took a breath, nodding to himself, "I think this is it. Still, suppose it's not a bad way to go. Blood pumping, enemy at the gates and all that. And thank you, Doctor, for waking me up. It's reaching for me. Hands on my head."

Angel closed her eyes, feeling the pressure against her own head as well, knowing what was coming next, and trying to focus on any sort of empathetic ability she had to help the man remain strong and comforted to the last second.

"0," Perkins announced the same time Quell began to fall to the ground, Angel catching him as Perkins rushed over to help her lay the man on the floor.

"Teleporter," the Doctor muttered to himself, his mind racing, "That means tech. Then 66 seconds...to do what? 66 seconds. That seems very, very specific. Too specific for organic. So, what? More tech? What? More? A countdown clock? Something charging?"

For the first time since this terror began, Perkins did not appear impressed with the Doctor, "A man just died in front of us. Can we not just have a moment?"

"No," he said simply, though his frown was deep as he watched Angel placing one of the unworn white lab coats over the man's prone form in respect. And that was why he hadn't bothered to stop, his Mate had the caring and consideration under control, she would be respectful enough for the both of them. They were a team, two halves of a whole, while she tended to the grief, he would focus on the hard facts. He had to, one more person was gone and the Foretold would only come after another now, "No, no, no. We can't do that. We can't mourn. People with guns to their heads, they cannot mourn. We do not have time to mourn. Everybody," he called out to the humans, "What takes 66 seconds to charge up or to change state? Anyone?" no one answered, causing him to sigh, "Am I surrounded by idiots? If only I could see this thing!"

"Don't say that, my love," Angel's soft voice caused him to pause.

"You know I would stop it though," the Doctor looked at her, "One minute with me and this thing, it would be over!"

"I have no doubts about that," Angel stood and moved over to him, taking his hands, "But for it to get to you, it has to go through everyone else first."

"I can't tell if you're a genius or just incredibly arrogant," Perkins told the Doctor as he stood. He wasn't sure what to make of Angel's words either, that she was implying the man was the strongest among them. Or…was she reminding him he needed to stop the Foretold sooner because it would only kill more people before it got to him?

He didn't know what to make of these people any longer.