Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Twenty-One: The Girl in the Fireplace

The soft and familiar hum of the pistons helps to keep my mind focused. I lounge on the padded seats with my feet up on the edge of the console and my nose buried in an old, leather-bound book from the Tardis' paradise of a library.

Every now and then, I feel some movement around me. I can hear Rose and Mickey chatting on the other side of the console. She is still upset that he interrupted our group but I know that, given time, she will warm to it.

The girl only knows chaos and change. Many things on this ship stay in motion but she needs something constant. That is us — the Doctor and I. We're the dream team, the first of whatever is to come next. We are the ones she looks to when this universe doesn't make sense.

I lived a changing life, I left home at eighteen and plunged right into the deep end of time and space. The last thing I want is for her to end up like me. Or him.

Something brushes past my legs. Then it nudges into them. Frowning, I look up to see the Doctor balanced on one foot, bent across me to reach for a lever. I watch him struggle over the top of my book for another moment before pitying him enough to clear my throat. "What are you doing?"

He freezes, sheepishly turning his head. Brown eyes open wide and doubt parts his lips. The picture of innocence. "Me?"

"Who else is standing right on top of me?"

"I— I'm not— I was just... t-trying to reach— Could you..." Following his small nod back to the lever, I nudge it with my foot. The Tardis wheezes, the console lighting up. "What are you doing?" he counters with an edge of sass as he tries to mess his hair up a little more.

The others are watching now. Huffing, I set the book down and push myself up from what I now realise was an unwise sitting position. My back aches in complaint. "I was reading. Why?"

He scratches the back of his neck. I know that habit of his, it's something he does when he's nervous. Why, I can't understand. "No reason. No reason. It's just... you usually watch me... when I'm— when I'm flying the Tardis. Have you figured it out already?"

I chuckle. Of course he knows I'm trying to figure out how to pilot the ship. He can read me like that. He notices. One look at the smirk on Rose's face quickly weighs my features back to stern disinterest. "Go ahead," I sigh with a heavy gesture towards the console, "show me how it's done."

Strangely, he seems content with this and returns to work. I lean back against the railings and give him the sufficient attention he craves, humming and nodding and asking questions I'm already close to having the answers to. It boosts his confidence. I should hate that I find it cute.

We land after another minute of random button presses and odd noises from the ship that I've come to expect. Looking back at Rose with an excited grin, Mickey runs over to open the door like a child on Saturnalia morning. The room outside is dark and cold, all metal. "It's a spaceship. Brilliant! I got a spaceship on my first go!"

"Looks kind of abadoned," Rose remarks, taking in the sight of thick wires and rusting machinery lying around on the deck. "Anyone on board?"

The Doctor shakes his head. "Nah. Nothing here. Well, nothing dangerous. Well, not that dangerous." He hesitates before adding, "You know what? I'll just have a quick scan... in case there's anything... dangerous."

I stifle a laugh, following after him. "So, when are we?"

He scrunches his nose at my question, beaming almost proudly. "Listen to you with the lingo!"

"You remember I've been time travelling for almost a decade, right?"

"I know, but it suits you." A sharp cough from behind us prompts him to move further, his lips pursing. "Um, about three thousand years into their future, give or take — maybe two hundred into yours. The Fifty-first Century."