Golden Wanderer (DOCTOR WHO FAN-FIC)

CHAPTER FIVE - ZOO: part 5

❯ we know what we are, but know not what we may be.

– hamlet, William Shakespeare

[FARREN]

Running- she thought –will be the death of me. Her hair rattled wildly around her neck as she ran as quick as she could down the corridors, far away from the gaggle of- definitely alien humanoids hot on her tail.

She wrapped her arms around the top of her head as a red laser blast flew way too close. "Now that's no way to treat royalty you barbarians!" Farren almost tripped over her untied laces as she screamed- she was entirely weapon-less and pissed at that, her belt was one of her most prized possession even though it held low-grade- frankly shit tools that couldn't really be called weapons. Not when her assailants had laser guns. 

In a reflex motion, she pushed herself behind a wall- panting heavily. She'd always been quick- an advantage she had but didn't frequently use because why run when you can morph? That, and she was dreadfully lazy, she was quick on her feet but quick to run out of breath.

Farren- quietened her breathing to listen carefully as the prison guards thundered through the halls to catch up to her, she couldn't just run fast she had to think fast.

It was all she could do, because running ends- think fast, like she had to when her burning people, strangled and tortured screamed to her from the surface of Fawlay, begging for suicide.

Morphing then- was out of the question, clearly they knew about her party-trick antics and so, it was near impossible for her to get away with it. Jackson was the only one with the laser gun- it was the main reason why she wasn't dead yet, he had terrible aim. The others brandished regular hand pistols- she remembered- Jackson's was sleek and silver with blue-green spheres dotted along the barrel.

Even the trigger was alien- not confined in a trigger guard like a normal gun but instead a dark red button on the side of the grip. It was the only weapon that could do her serious damage, regular guns were healable.

So, carefully, she raised her arms over her head and side-stepped out of her hiding spot.

"I surrender," It was a false promise, carefully pronounced as she eyed the humanoids who came to a sudden halt. Farren compressed a thin smile at the sight- she was right. The dark haired man was indeed gripping tightly onto a smooth silver weapon that looked straight out of Star Trek, the others with black hand guns no doubt packed with a furious amount of bullets. They didn't know where her heart was, so long as her main organ wasn't aimed for, she didn't care much. "I surrender"

And again, the universe with its furious serving of shitty luck decided to give her a break- Jackson was the one to walk forward, brandishing brass cuffs with one hand and steadily aiming his weapon at her.

Farren waited- breathing through her nose as she remained tight-lipped. He hovered behind her making to retain her. As soon as his finger tips touched her skin, his hold on the weapon faltered and so Farren took her chance.

She threw her head back to disorientate him and bent low, kicking out her leg all the while to trip him up and swipe his weapon. She hoped she looked cool because the back of her head hurt like hell- stupid thick skulled Jackson.

His weapon felt slimy in her hands- foreign and deathly but still, she angled it at the litter of guards who too held their guns to level with her head, there were five and she couldn't outrun the bullets. Though, none of them fired- undoubtedly understanding how much more harmful Farren's newly acquired weapon was.