Contrary to the Doctor’s worries, she wasn’t
remotely interested in Captain Jack Harkness in any romantic sense
or…otherwise. She’d only just met the man. The only thing she was curious about
was his apparent inability to die. For as long as she could remember, Zepheera
couldn’t seem to age. So in a way she and Jack were quite similar.
As fate would have it, an opportunity arose
for Jack to make use of his ability. There was a room filled with incendiary
radiation that sat underneath a rocketship which was prepared to ferry the last
of the human race to a paradise at the end of the universe that they called
Utopia. The radiation had already killed one technician who was connecting the
couplings that would get the ship off the ground. Now it was up to Jack, the
only man who could enter that room without dying.
Zepheera had tagged along at the last second,
eager to watch this bizarre ability firsthand. But the next thing she knew,
Jack was undressing. She was most definitely not attracted to him, she was
adamant about that. But watching someone sixteen times her height move so
quickly, even doing something as simple as removing his shirt, was undenyably
fascinating to the four and a half inch tall borrower.
She jumped when the Doctor popped into her
view, checking over the radiation levels and the other readings on the control
panel. He hadn’t yet noticed Jack. It occurred to her that the radiation he
would be subjected to wouldn’t affect the clothing he was stripping off, so she
regained her composure and cleared her throat.
“Er, Jack?” she piped up, still a
little timid around this new giant.
The Doctor glanced Jack’s way, only to
double-take once it sank in.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I’m going in,” Jack reminded him.
“But–from what I can tell, the
radiation doesn’t affect clothing, only flesh,” said the Doctor.
“I look good, though.”
With a smirk at the Doctor and a wink at
Zepheera, Jack pulled his braces back on and strode purposefully into the
radiation-ridden room. Thankfully, only his wool coat and button-down had been
removed.
In the depths of the TARDIS, a black and white tuxedo cat lounged on a table. It had just woken up from a three-hour nap and thoroughly groomed itself when a small grey tabby kitten appeared in front of it, drawing its attention. The kitten mewed at the cat, crying for help as it was lifted even higher. The cat watched lazily as the man underneath the kitten slowly straightened and removed the kitten from his head, staring at the cat owlishly as he did so.
This room, as well as several others throughout the TARDIS, was crawling with cats of varying ages and breeds, the younger ones nipping at the Doctor’s ankles while the older ones kept a nonchalant eye on the Time Lord. Such had been the state of the TARDIS for about a week.
“Doctor!” a hushed voice rang out somewhere above his head. His eyes darted around looking for the source, ending the staring contest between him and the cat–which he rather resembled in his black suit and white button-down.
“Up here!” the voice hissed again, leading him to look up at the air vent high up in the wall above the table. Seeing who was calling him, the Doctor grinned without reaching his eyes.
“Zepheera!” exclaimed the Time Lord, shifting the kitten in his hands to a shoulder as he climbed up onto the table. This put him at perfect eye level with the vent.
“I haven’t seen you in days!” he remarked, seemingly emotionally unaffected by this fact. “How’ve you been? Are you eating well?” He stuck his fingers through the slats, as though trying to reach the very small woman inside the vent, but they were too big to make it past their second joints. But the borrower, all four and a half inches of her, would make quick work of the small space, he thought absently.
Zepheera scrambled back a few inches deeper into the vent at the approach of his digits. “Don’t do that!” she scolded, masking her fear.
The Doctor blinked slowly, a slight frown pinching just above glazed eyes. The fingers withdrew until their tips rested at the bottom of the vent’s opening, allowing him a place to rest his chin as he peered into the vent. “Zepheera, what’s the matter?”
She had to bite back a scoff at that. It should’ve been rather obvious to him why she was so wary, why she had spent the last few days hiding out in the depths of a ship she’d come to call home, sneaking food from the kitchens the few chances she got. If she were honest, a small part of her had missed living like this, like a proper borrower; but the illusion was broken by the need to hide from her best friend and the legion of cats he’d brought on board.
“I’ve contacted Torchwood,” she informed him rather than answering his question. “Captain Jack Harkness, you once told me he could be trusted. The TARDIS is set to pilot itself to their headquarters as soon as it receives their signal.”
“What’d you do that for?” asked the Doctor, more curious than concerned.
“Because I can’t very well fly this hunk of metal myself, can I?” Zepheera snapped, crossing her arms. “I’ve half a mind to make you teach me, once you’ve got half a mind.”
The Doctor tilted his head, clearly confused, and the little grey tabby mewed and crossed to his other shoulder.
“Look…You’re not yourself, Doctor,” she explained, placing her hands on her hips. “I don’t know if it’s the cats or the planet we were on or something else, but this isn’t you. And I just. Can’t. Handle this. Not on my own.”
For all her efforts to make him understand, she received a pair of big brown puppy-dog eyes in return. “No no, but the cats are friendly!” he insisted, breaking her heart a little more with each word. “I’m sure they’d be friends with you, too, if you’d just–”
He was cut off by the borrower suddenly lunging forward until her little fists slammed into the metal slats of the vent. The Doctor flinched back in surprise, blinking at her sudden outburst. Zepheera forced herself to slow her breathing, calm herself down, remind herself that it wasn’t the Doctor talking–not really.
“I would never befriend a cat!” she practically spat, venom coloring each word. “Not after what happened to Kernel…” Her voice trailed off at the mention of his name, and she squeezed her eyes shut to push back the memories and tears. He had only been ten years old…
“Your brother,” the Doctor replied at length.
Zepheera’s head snapped up. “Yes. You remember him, you remember me telling you about that!” Despite the grisly memories this situation had roused, Zepheera smiled for the first time in a week. “It’s still you.”
The Doctor didn’t respond; his brow was knit tightly together, as though he were trying to remember how exactly he knew what he’d said. Before he could even think about answering the borrower, the TARDIS rumbled and the familiar sound of the engines in flight rang throughout the beautiful machine.
“That’ll be Jack,” she remarked, backing away from the vent slowly. “I have to go. We’ll be there soon, and I’ve got to show them where you are.” Having warned him fairly, she turned to go.
“Wait!” the Doctor called after her. “Why won’t you come out? It’s all they want, and it’s all I want, so would you just…come out? Please? You don’t have to hide.”
Zepheera kept walking despite the chillingly familiar words, never once breaking her stride. “I’ll stop hiding once you understand why I have to.”
Borrowed Time and Space 