Jenny Smith-Holmes

Chapter 8: Angels

JENNY'S P.O.V.
There they are, walking, no rolling towards us. The Daleks are back. Daddy has told me stories about them. How they destroyed everything, almost the entire universe, including Gallifrey. Daddy told me of the time war. He told me of how they destroyed it. I was there for, like, 5 minutes, and I thought I was going to die. He even told me that when Timelord children turned eight they are sent to the Timelord University, and he told me many stories about his times at the university, which always made me want to go.
Momma held me tight as she ran towards an escape pod while Daddy ran the other way. It wasn't a big one, really only big enough to fit me. Momma knew this and she put me in. I was crying so hard, not noticing the coordinates she was putting in. I held my blanket tight as she shut the door and the escape pod began to shutter.
A big flash of blue light, and everything around me was gone. The pod stopped shaking as I climbed out.
The place I was, was beautiful. Red grass with burnt orange skies, snow capped mountains that seemed to gone on forever. The second sun was high in the sky making the silver-leafed trees blaze with light. All this was surrounding a tall glass dome that engulfed a grand city.
I sat there for a moment longer until someone approached me. He looked rather odd. He had very curly, brown hair that was covered with a brown hat, a long coat, but not nearly as his scarf. I'd say it was longer than 12 feet. Walked over with a goofy grin on his face, he bent down onto one knee so he was my height.
Something was very familiar about him, he sort of reminded me of Daddy.
"Why are you sitting in the middle of the forest, and what's your name?" he said with the goofy grin still on his face.
"Jessica" I clutched my blanket tighter, who was he?
"That's a rather odd name for the people around here, how old are you?" he was looking at me, but the smile had been replaced with a look of confusion.
"I'm 7: Momma said if Daddy's planet was still around, when I turn eight I could go to the university,or was it academy?" I looked up at him.
"So where are you from, then?" he asked
"I don't really know, Momma never said. Me, Daddy, and Momma travel a lot." I looked at the man who was now sitting cross-legged like me.
"Well, what species are you?" he looked down on me.
"I'm mostly Timelord, little bit human." He looked rather puzzled so I explained more. "My Daddy's Timelord, and my Momma's mostly Timelord and a little bit human, too."
"Well how did you get here then?" he asked.
"I don't know. One minute me, Momma, and Daddy were fighting with the Daleks when they started shooting at us. So Momma picked me up and ran towards an escape pod while Daddy was trying to hold back the Daleks. Momma put me in and then with a flash of blue light I was here. May I ask where here is?" I said in my soft child voice.
"Why this is Gallifrey, of course. Hasn't your Daddy or Momma ever told you about it? It is the home of the Timelords." He was getting even more confused. I looked up to him with shock on my face.
"How is that possible? Daddy said Gallifrey was gone, or maybe he said a time lock. How is it still here?"
"What did you say? Why would Gallifrey be here? Who is your Momma and Daddy?" he asked in a soft voice.
"Well Daddy and Momma said that there was a war that destroyed half the universe, Gallifrey with it. My Momma's real name is Melody Pond, but she goes by River Song. I don't see her very much actually, when she isn't with me and Daddy, she's in prison for killing the most important man in the universe she says." I paused for a moment thinking about whom the most important man was, she never told me.
"What started this war and what would make your parents think that Gallifrey is gone, when clearly we are standing on it talking?" He looked rather interested.
"I don't know. But I think my Daddy might know. I forget to ask your name." I said trying to change the subject; the war was obviously in the future of Gallifrey.
"Oh, I'm the Doctor, would you like a Jelly Baby?" he took out a crumpled bag and held it out to me. If he is the Doctor, than I could trust him so I looked at it and reached in. I pulled out a Jelly Baby and popped it into my mouth. The man looked satisfied and ate one himself. Why didn't he look like Daddy? Is he an impostor?
"You don't look like the Doctor. He wears a bowtie, and is much taller than you. I should know." He looked surprised with my response before he answered.
"But I am most certainly the Doctor, always have been and always will be." He was trying so hard to defend himself against a 7 year-old.
"How old are you then?" I asked, maybe he is a younger version of Daddy.
"712, why?"
"Because the Doctor I know is 1200 something." I said looking down trying to hind the tears forming in my eyes.
"Really, interesting. What is your relationship with the Doctor?"
I looked up at him and spoke barely in a whisper. "He's my Daddy."

I woke up with a start. I was in Daddy's arms as he was picking me up. I clung onto him, the dream seemed so real.
"Ah... you're awake." He said standing up with me in his arms. "Why don't we get some breakfast, eh?"
"Can I change first, please?" I said pointing towards my bags that have all my new clothes in them.
"Of course, do you need help?" he asked putting me.
"No, I'm b a big girl; big girls don't need help changing. That's what my Momma told me." I said starting to rummage through the bags.
"Oh, yes, of course you're a big girl. Come down the hall when you're done so we can go to breakfast, Okay?" He stood up moving towards the door and then left down the hall. He was acting weird today, a lot nicer than normal, I wonder if he's okay.
So I went through the bags until I picked out a dark purple t-shirt with black shorts, and a black button up jacket. I brushed my jet black, curly hair a little bit before putting on purple matching socks, to go with my shirt. I put on my black converse only to realize that I couldn't tie them up. So I ran carefully down the hall, making sure that I didn't trip over the shoelaces.
Daddy was talking with John before either of them noticed me. I tugged on Daddy's long, black coat and stared up at him. He looked around for a second before looking down at me.
"Could you tie my shoes, pwease?" I pointed down to towards my shoe as he knelt down and tied both of them.
"Thank-you" I smiled and started down the stairs.
The cab ride was silent, until we reached a café somewhere in the middle of London. John paid for it as Daddy and I walked into the café to find a table. I was eating some waffles piled high with syrup, strawberries, and other stuff like that. John tucked into a cooked breakfast and had a mug of tea in front of him while Daddy was drumming his fingers impatiently on the table waiting for the pink phone – which is lying on the table – to ring.
"Feeling better?" Daddy asked looking up from the phone to John.
"Mmm. You realize we've hardly stopped for breath since this thing started?" John ate another forkful of food, then looked very thoughtful.
" Has it occurred to you...?" John started
" Probably." Daddy interrupted.
" No – has it occurred to you that the bomber's playing a game with you? The envelope; breaking into the other flat; the dead kid's shoes – it's all meant for you."
"Yes, I know." Daddy smiled ever so slightly
" Is it him, then? Moriarty?"
" Perhaps." The pink phone beeped a message alert. Daddy switches it on and it sounds two short Greenwich pips followed by the longer tone and a photograph of a smiling middle-aged woman appear on the screen.
" That could be anybody." Daddy was getting frustrated.
" Well, it could be, yeah. Lucky for you, I've been more than a little unemployed."
" How d'you mean?"
" Lucky for you, Mrs Hudson and I watch far too much telly." John stood up and walked over to the counter. Smiling at the woman behind the counter, he picked up a remote control and switched on the small television hung on the wall. He switched channels a couple of times until he found what he wanted. The woman from the photograph was on the screen, partway through her make-over show. She was gesturing to someone just off-screen.
" Thank you, Tyra! Doesn't she look lovely, everybody, now?" The pink phone rang.
" Anyway, speaking of silk purses and sows' ears ... " Daddy picked up the phone and answered it.
" Hello?" I could barely hear an old woman speaking tremulously in a Yorkshire accent.
" This one ... is a bit ... defective. Sorry."
" She's blind. This is ... a funny one." John walked back over to the table.
" I'll give you ... twelve hours." Daddy looked at John as he sat down again and began to eat.
"Why are you doing this?"
" I like ... to watch you ... dance." Sherlock lowered the phone and shook his head at John then dropped the phone onto the table as he turned to look at the telly.
"... and I see you're back to your bad habits." The woman on the telly continued. As the footage continued, a voice-over replaces her voice and a news headline at the bottom of the screen reads: Make-over Queen Connie Prince dead at 48. Whoa... I can read...
" ... Continuing into the sudden death of the popular TV personality, Connie Prince. Miss Prince, famous for her make-over programmes, was found dead two days ago by her brother in the house they shared in Hampstead..." a news reader continued as we walked out of the café and into a cab that John got for us. We sat in silence until we pulled up in front of what seemed like a hospital. We walked through a maze of halls until we reached the morgue.
Connie Prince's body has been laid out on a table in the morgue, with a sheet covering her and leaving only her arms and upper chest bare. A man with grey hair lead us into the room, reading from a file as he went.
"Connie Prince, fifty-four. She had one of those make-over shows on the telly. Did you see it?"
"No." Daddy said while John looked at the grey haired man weirdly.
"Very popular. She was going places." He continued.
"Not any more. So: dead two days. According to one of her staff, Raoul de Santos, she cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden. Nasty wound." Daddy started inspecting the body as I got closer. He and John look at the deep cut in the webbing between her right thumb and index finger.
"A Tetanus bacterium enters the bloodstream – good night Vienna." Daddy sad straightening up.
"I suppose." John said walking around the body
"Something's wrong with this picture." Daddy looked back down at the cut and examined it.
"Eh?" both Lestrade and John asked.
"Can't be as simple as it seems, otherwise the bomber wouldn't be directing us towards it. Something's wrong." Daddy narrowed his eyes as he looked down at the body, then bent closer to look along Connie's right arm as he took his magnifier from his pocket. There were several scratches on her upper arm which looked like claw marks. He moved up to her face and notices the tiny pinpricks on her forehead just above her nose. He looked at them through the magnifier.
"John?"
"Mmm."
"The cut on her hand: it's deep; would have bled a lot, right?"
"Yeah."
"But the wound's clean – very clean, and fresh." He looked up, his eyes flickering as he thinks it through, then straightened up and clicked the magnifier closed.
"How long would the bacteria have been incubating inside her?"
"Eight, ten days." I reached up and touched the woman's hand and I suddenly saw all of her life flash before my eyes. Since the day she was born to the day she was killed... Botox, she was killed by her houseboy with her monthly Botox injection. I should tell Daddy, but wouldn't he like to solve it on his own? I think I will let him solve it, besides why would he believe me, a 4 year-old with no evidence, to tell him how a lady died.
Daddy quirked a one-sided grinned and turned to John, waiting for him to put it all together. It didn't take him long.
"The cut was made later."
"After she was dead?" asked a very confuse Detective Inspector.
"Must have been. The only question is, how did the tetanus enter the dead woman's system?" Daddy asked more to himself, while John looked along the body thoughtfully.
"You want to help, right?" Daddy was staring towards John.
"Of course."
"Connie Prince's background – family history, everything. Give me data."
"Right." John turned and left the room. Daddy looked down at Connie's body one more time, then turns and headed toward the door, taking my hand.
"There's something else that we haven't thought of." Lestrade said walking out with us.
"Is there?" Daddy said as casually as he could.
"Yes. Why is he doing this, the bomber?" asked Lestrade, completely lost. Daddy and I stopped, keeping our backs to the inspector, who was looking a little anxious. "If this woman's death was suspicious, why point it out?"
"Good Samaritan." Daddy said over his shoulder nonchalantly. We tried to move away but Lestrade persisted.
"... Who press-gangs suicide bombers?"
"Bad Samaritan."
"I'm – I'm serious, Sherlock. Listen: I'm cutting you slack here; I'm trusting you – but out there somewhere, some poor bastard's covered in Semtex and is just waiting for you to solve the puzzle. So just tell me: what are we dealing with?"
Daddy looked away thoughtfully, then smiled with delight.
"Something new."
Several hours later at 221b the wall behind the sofa was covered with paperwork: maps, photographs of Connie Prince – both when she was alive and pictures taken in the morgue – photos of Carl Powers, press cuttings and various sheets of paper with notes scribbled on them. Pieces of string were pinned between some of the exhibits, linking them together. Daddy waspacing back and forth in front of the sofa as Lestrade stands nearby, I was lying on the sofa drawing in the big sketch book. I was surprisingly very good at drawing, I learned on Gallifrey. I think that's in Ireland . I drew my dreams, the Time War, the Daleks, the TARDIS, everything I've dreamed of. It is all so wonderful, why would I want to forget. I mean there are some things I want to forget, but still. I labeled all of them as I went on."
Daddy was muttering under his breath. "Connection, connection, connection. There must be a connection." He stopped and gestured toward various spots on the display on the wall as he spoke.
" Carl Powers, killed twenty years ago. The bomber knew him; admitted that he knew him. The bomber's iPhone was in stationery from the Czech Republic. First hostage from Cornwall; the second from London; the third from Yorkshire, judging by her accent. What's he doing – working his way round the world? Showing off?" The pink phone rang. He took it from his pocket and sees that the Caller I.D. again reads "NUMBER BLOCKED". He answered, and an old woman began to narrate.
" You're enjoying this, aren't you? Joining the ... dots. She sobbed
" Three hours: boom ... boom." She cried in terror, then the phone went dead. Sherlock looked at Lestrade for a moment, then switched the phone off, put it back in his pocket and raised his hands to his mouth in the prayer position, concentrating on the wall in front of him.

Later in 221B. Mrs Hudson has joined Daddy, Lestrade and I and was standing between them as they faced the paper-covered wall. Daddy was talking into his own phone.
" Great. ... Thank you. Thanks again." He turned and walked toward the fireplace, still talking into the phone. Mrs Hudson looked sadly at a photo of Connie Prince on the wall. I was now on the floor under the window, still drawing. I was on like my 13th drawing. They were all really detailed and looked very professional. I surprise myself sometimes.
" It was a real shame. I liked her. She taught you how to do your colours." Mrs. Hudson said sadly. Lestrade – who had turned and was watching me draw on the floor with great surprise (probably that I was still alive after living with Daddy for 5 days, or that my drawing was so good, or both) – now turned back to Mrs Hudson.
" Colours?"
" You know ..." she gestured down at her clothes "... what goes best with what. I should never wear cerise, apparently. Drains me."' Daddy had just finished his conversation and walked back to join the others.
" Who was that?"
"Home Office." Daddy said nonchalantly. Good grief – he wasn't after a posh party invite, was he?
"Home Office?" Lestrade said surprised.
" Well, Home Secretary, actually. Owes me a favour." Daddy was still staring at the wall.
"She was a pretty girl but she messed about with herself too much. They all do these days." Mrs. Hudson said looking at a photo on the wall of Connie holding an award which presumably she won for her show. She looked round at Lestrade. " People can hardly move their faces. It's silly, isn't it?!" She giggled as Lestrade smiles politely. She turned round to Daddy." Did you ever see her show?"
" Not until now." Now it was my turn to giggle, but I did it quietly. I was drawing what an exploding Dalek looked like, I saw a lot of these in my dream of the Time War. Daddy turned and picked up his computer notebook and opened it. A video started to play, showing footage of an episode of Connie's make-over show. She was talking to her brother in the TV studio. I looked up and started watching it as did everyone else.
"You look pasty, love!" Connie said on the computer.
" Ah." Her brother looked at the audience, "Rained every day but one!"
" That's the brother. No love lost there, if you can believe the papers." Is what Mrs. Hudson said.
" So I gather. I've just been having a very fruitful chat with people who loved this show. Fan sites – indispensible for gossip." Daddy said with a very irritated look o his face.
Connie, gesturing to the clothes which her brother was wearing, said, "There's really only one thing we can do with that ensemble, don't you think, girls?" She stood up and chapped her hands rhythmically as she began to chant." Off! Off! Off! Off!"
The audience took up the chant and the clapping. By the third, "Off!" Connie was rhythmically beating her hands quite hard onto Kenny's back as he drops his jacket to the floor and started to unbutton his shirt. He grimaces in pain but then turned a false smile toward the audience. I felt so bad for him, now he had motive, but he wasn't the man who killed her brother.

I was still drawing in 221B., Mrs. Hudson had left the room but Daddy and Lestrade were still standing in front of the wall display. Daddy's phone rang and he fished it out of his jacket pocket, looked quickly at the Caller I.D. and then held the phone to his ear.
" John."
John, over phone, said "Hi. Look, get over here quickly. I think I'm onto something. You'll need to pick up some stuff first. You got a pen?"
" I'll remember." Daddy started to put his jacket on and picked me up. I still had my jacket on from earlier, and we rushed out the door.
Raoul showed Daddy and I into the room. Daddy had a large bag over his shoulder and was carrying a long narrow case which was designed to hold a photographic tripod. I was walking slightly behind him, so I was hidden from Kenny. He walked over to Kenny as I climbed up onto the couch and sat on John's lap. Suddenly a gross, hairless cat-thing crawled up onto the couch with us. I could tell John didn't want it next to him, so I did the unimaginable and called it over. You should of seen the look on John's face.
"Ah, whose this little angel?" Kenny price looked towards me and I push my back into John's stomach as far as I could go.
"Oh, this is Jenny... Mr. Prince, wasn't it?" Daddy said grabbing the man's attention.
" Yes."
" Very good to meet you."
" Yes; thank you." They shook hands, Daddy was looking closely at Kenny's hand as he did so.
" So sorry to hear about ..." Daddy trailed off.
" Yes, yes, very kind." Kenny said rather impatiently.
" Shall we, er ..." Daddy walked over to the sofa, put the case down and started rummaging in his bag. Kenny turned back to the mirror and fiddled with his hair again.
"You were right. The bacteria got into her another way." John said quietly.
"Oh yes?" Daddy said smirking, oh poor John.
" Yes." John said.
"Right. We all set?" Kenny turned towards us.
" Um, yes." He looks at Daddy, who had taken a camera and flashgun out of his bag, and jerked his head toward Kenny.
" Can you ...?" As Kenny leaned one arm on the mantelpiece and posed, Daddy walked over to him and started taking photographs of him.
" Not too close. I'm raw from crying." The cat meowed at Daddy's feet. He looked down.
" Oh, who's this?"
" Sekhmet. Named after the Egyptian goddess."
" How nice! Was she Connie's?" Wow Daddy was a very good actor.
" Yes."John reached down towards the cat but Kenny beat him to it, picking the cat up.
" Little present from yours truly." Frustrated, John straightened up, then looked at his flatmate.
" Sherlock? Uh, light reading?"
" Oh, um ..." He lifted a second flashgun which he was holding in his other hand and held it toward Kenny, firing it straight into his face.
" Two point eight." Daddy says. I suddenly heard a very familiar sound. Sort of like a wheezing, groan sound. I looked out the window and saw the wind pick up and die down with the noise. Strange. Kenny squinted his eyes shut against the light.
" Bloody hell. What do you think you're playing at?!" he yelled. John immediately reached out and rubbed his fingers over one of the cat's front paws. Daddy kept firing the flashgun to keep Kenny's eyes closed.
" Sorry." They both said. I could feel my heart pounding a weird rhythm, not bum ...bum, bum...bum, but I felt it going bum..bum.bum..Bum.., bum.. Bum..Bum...bum. I was starting to get worried when I snapped back to reality.
" You're like Laurel and bloody Hardy, you two. What's going on?" Kenny asked.
" Actually, I think we've got what we came for. Excuse us." Daddy said grabbing me.
" What?" Kenny asked
" Sherlock." John said sternly
" What?" Daddy asked all innocent like.
"We've got deadlines." John said grabbing the case from the sofa and heading for the door. Daddy and I followed after him.
" But you've not taken anything!" Kenny yelled. Ignoring him, we hurried out of the living room and let ourselves out of the door. John chuckled delightedly as we walked down the drive and headed toward the main road.
" Yes! Ooh, yes!"
"You think it was the cat. It wasn't the cat." Daddy said smiling.
" What? No, yes. Yeah, it was . It must be. It's how they got the tetanus into her system. Its paws stink of disinfectant." John was trying so hard to defend himself, I felt bad that I knew how it really happened.
"Lovely idea." Daddy said still smiling.
" No, he coated it onto the paws of her cat. It's a new pet – bound to be a bit jumpy around her. A scratch was almost inevitable. She wouldn't have ..." John started
"I thought of it the minute I saw the scratches on her arm, but it's too random and too clever for the brother." Daddy interrupted. John chuckled again.
" He murdered his sister for her money."
" Did he?"
"Didn't he?" more too himself.
" No. It was revenge." I butted in getting weird looks from both of them.
"Really, a 4 year-old knows how it happened?! Revenge? Who wanted revenge?" John said angrily. Daddy gave me a look that said 'continue, please.'
" Raoul, the houseboy. Kenny Prince was the butt of his sister's jokes, week in, week out, a virtual bullying campaign. Finally he had enough; fell out with her badly. It's all on the website. She threatened to disinherit Kenny. Raoul had grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle, so ..." I trailed off
"No, wait, wait. Wait a second." John stopped and turned t us. Daddy stopped walking as well and set me on the ground.
" What about the disinfectant, then, on the cat's claws?" John asked. Daddy looked at me with the same look as before and o started pacing around.
" Raoul keeps a very clean house. You came through the kitchen door, saw the state of that floor, scrubbed to within an inch of its life. You smell of disinfectant now. No, the cat doesn't come into it." I said looking up ay John. John pulled his jacket up to sniff at it as Daddy looked toward the main road.
" Raoul's internet records do, though. Hope we can get a cab from here." Daddy said continuing my rant. He and I walk off. John sighed in exasperation and a touch of disappointment that he hadn't solved the case for once. He glared towards his friend's back and then follows us.
I got this strange feeling in my head again, something yelling in my head, 'Don't blink, don't even blink, blink and you're dead, don't turn you're back, don't look away, and don't blink.' I looked around, but saw nothing. I saw statues, buildings, really anything you would find on a regular street. But one statue did interest me. It was of an angel that appeared to be weeping. I would've studied it more, but Daddy had come back for me and carried me off.
It was night time when we reached New Scotland Yard. Daddy walked into the main office brandishing a folder at Lestrade.
" Raoul de Santos was your killer. Kenny Prince's houseboy. Second autopsy shows it wasn't tetanus that poisoned Connie Prince – it was botulinum toxin." He put the folder on the desk. As Lestrade reached for it, Daddy leaned closer to him.
" We've been here before. Carl Powers? Tut-tut. Our bomber's repeated himself." Lestrade walked toward his office, Daddy following. John stared at them in surprise.
" So how'd he do it?" Lestrade asked Daddy as they stopped before the office.
" Botox injection."
"Botox?" Lestrade turned towards Daddy as I looked around for something to do. Something caught eye and I walked toward it. It was just an officer's desk, but it... interesting? Maybe that was the right word. Something seemed off about it. I sighed and looked out the window. It was pouring rain outside. I saw something, or so I thought. It was another angel. I swear I have lived another life or something, because suddenly all sorts of memories poured it to my head, but one thing, one name stood out. Sally Sparrow. Another name, and more. Sally Sparrow, Billy Shipton, Kathy Nightingale, Larry Nightingale, Martha Jones, and .... The Doctor. My head was swimming, it hurt so much. Then I remembered something, well I don't know if it is n the future or something, but it made me giggle, but it also made me cry.

I may be on the side of the angels, but I don't have the phone box.