The Time Lord’s head snapped up from his dinging machine at the sound of Zepheera’s cry. He berated himself for getting talked into splitting up to look for the Zygon as he ran off toward the voice. Sure, his four and a half inch tall companion could take care of herself in ways that still surprised him, but could she hold her own against a Zygon? A big, red, rubbery thing covered in suckers that was at least a foot taller than the average human? The thought pushed him to run faster.
He almost blew straight past Zepheera, skidding to a halt when she called out, “Over here!” Simultaneously, a signal on his machine flared up, and he turned sharply to look down at a moss-covered stump. Zepheera stood in the shadow of what looked like a floppy-eared rabbit. The Doctor noticed her arms were raised, he assumed in defense, but failed to catch sight of the wide grin across her lips.
“Oh, very clever,” he mused, collapsing the machine’s antenna and approaching slowly to loom over the rabbit which he was now convinced was a Zygon.
“Whatever you’ve got planned, forget it,” he warned darkly. “I’m the Doctor. I’m nine hundred and four years old.”
Catching on to the Doctor’s train of thought and realizing her mistake, Zepheera tried to interrupt him. “Doctor–”
But he barreled right along: “I’m from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous.” The rabbit briefly turned its head to look up at the Time Lord as he neared before returning to nuzzling its little pink nose into a clump of moss next to Zepheera. “I am the oncoming storm, the bringer of darkness, and if you hurt so much as a hair on my friend’s head I will–”
“Doctor, shut up!” Zepheera shouted, and the Doctor did just that, staring incredulously at her. Her cheeks were hot from the embarrassment of the misunderstanding that she’d partially caused. “It’s not a Zygon,” she explained. “I checked. He just sort of bounded right up to me and…I dunno, at the moment it was cute.”
The Doctor crouched next to the stump. “So…basically just a rabbit, then?”
“Yup.”
“I thought you were in trouble!” he groused.
Zepheera gave a false gasp. “My deepest apologies, your majesty!”
“Oh, don’t start that again!” She had already given him enough grief for accidentally getting engaged to Queen Elizabeth not an hour ago, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
[This is an alternate ‘Midnight’. Due to the intensity, I wanted to give this one closure. Spoilers for the climax of the episode. Prepare for angst. You’ve been warned.]
Taking a big space truck full of strangers across a diamond planet called Midnight? What could possibly go wrong?
Everything.
“Doctor!” Zepheera cried, climbing along the bottom of an uprooted seat to look him in the eye. But he couldn’t look back. He sat on the floor trembling, unseeing eyes more full of fear than Zepheera had ever seen in them before.
If there was one thing you learn when you sit on a man’s shoulder, it’s how much that man moves. The Doctor was always moving–always–and now he was terrifyingly still. If he could have budged, like his eyes told her he desperately wanted to, he would have. She clutched at her hair in frustration. She wanted to help, needed to, but what could she do? She couldn’t move him on her own or save him from physical harm, she was four and a half inches tall!
For once, she wished Donna were around. The loud, boisterous human would make quick work of slapping sense into the other six, who were still arguing about what they were going to do to the Doctor. All they had done the entire time was bicker and yell, giving the borrower the worst headache. And the seventh, that Sky woman…As though she could read her mind, she stared coldly down at Zepheera with the faintest of smirks.
Now the yelling was so loud it blocked out Zepheera’s thoughts. At the very least, a couple of the humans were sticking up for the Doctor, but they were quickly shut down. One more look into the Doctor’s eyes–utterly petrified, begging for help the only way he could–and Zepheera’d had enough of these humans.
The borrower in question rolled her eyes as the felt a series of rumbles through the hardwood floor that seemed to indicate the Doctor was crouching down to check on her already. It had only been a few seconds since she’d been sent down into this small gap to investigate for clues. A glance over her shoulder gave her a narrow view of her Time Lord flattened on the ground with one eye shut tight and the opposite eyebrow raised high, as though it would give him a greater insight on Zepheera’s perspective.
“Doctor, we’ve been over this, you can’t fit down here.”
“Yeah, but I can’t help being curious!” he declared defensively. “Last place anybody sees the big old mysterious being is disappearing through this tiny little gap, which should be impossible given its size!”
Depending on how it had been done, such a change might have left behind some sort of residue that would assist the pair of time travelers in knowing what exactly they were up against. On the other hand, if the person or creature had simply made themselves smaller, then Zepheera could be at risk where she now stood.
Well, more like crouched. Even for her, standing at four and a half inches tall, it was a bit of a tight fit. In any case, the Doctor had to be ready to help her despite the fact that his hand wouldn’t be able to reach more than a few inches into such a small space.
Zepheera bit back a huff, placing her hands on her hips as she backed away from the Doctor. They’d been together for months doing this exact kind of thing on a near daily basis, and she’d thought the Doctor trusted her more than what he seemed to be demonstrating. But just as she was about to tell him exactly what she thought, she felt and heard her foot sink into some gelatinous mystery fluid with a sickening squelch. She jumped away from it with a cry of disgust, shaking as much of it off her foot as possible.
“Found something,” she muttered to the Doctor through a clenched jaw.
“But what is she?” asked one of the scientists to the Doctor in an aside.
The Time Lord looked up from the sample he was examining through a microscope at the woman in a white coat addressing him, glancing at the shelf on the other side of the room where his four-inch-tall companion stood scrutinizing racks of test tubes. They knew one of them was wrong, and she volunteered to find out which out of the 75 tubes it was since her eyes wouldn’t tire as easily as any of the human scientists’ would looking at the miniscule labels.
Turning back to the scientist, he gave a sniff and replied, “I rather think that’s her business to share, not mine. Although,” he added as he focused back on the microscope, “to be fair, if you asked she probably wouldn’t tell you.”
“And why’s that?” the scientist hissed, sounding affronted.
“Cause you’re human!” exclaimed the Doctor, not bothering to look up from the microscope this time. “Would you trust somebody who looks as big as you do to her right off?”
Her gaze wandered over to the impossibly tiny woman still searching tirelessly through the test tubes, and she heaved a resigned sigh. She supposed she wouldn’t. Rather than admit that, however, she pressed on. “But she trusts you, and you’re taller than I am!”
“Well, you’ve got me there.” The Doctor straightened to his full height–a full head taller than the female scientist–adjusting his crisp royal blue suit. “Little over sixteen times her height, I’m surely terrifying. In’t that right, Zepheera?”
His tiny companion’s head snapped up at the mention of her name, only to find the Doctor crossing the room right toward the shelf she was standing on. After all this time, it still blew her mind how fast someone so large could move.
“I’m just as scary as any mean ol’ human, eh?” he smirked, pulling a teasingly startling ‘rawr’ face close to the eye-level shelf as he passed the borrower and moved on to fetch whatever he was after.
Zepheera flinched at the sudden lack of space, but shot an exasperated look through the back of her friend’s head. She went about her business, muttering about what a giant ten-year-old her Time Lord was as she worked.
“Must you drive with your feet?” complained Zepheera as she clung to a hopefully useless doodad on the console, eyeing the red Chuck Taylor that had landed a little too close for comfort. “Not to be rude or anything, I just can’t help but feel slightly at risk here!”
“Oh, always the backseat drivers…” the Doctor muttered through clenched teeth. But he peered through the loops of cable at Zepheera, careful to know where she was at all times in order to avoid…incidents, he thought with a glance at his shoe. “For your information, it takes six pilots to fly this ship properly, and considering I failed my test, I think I manage quite well, thanks very–!”
He was cut off when a rumble of turbulence shook the TARDIS. With the extra leverage of his propped-up foot, the Doctor managed to keep his balance. Zepheera was not quite so lucky, as the tremor was much greater to her. Her feet were thrown out from under her and she slipped over the edge of the raised section of the console that she had thought for sure would be safer. As her grip tightened on her handhold to prevent her from being thrown off the console altogether, she reconsidered her chain of logic.
“Zepheera?” called the Doctor after losing sight of his four-inch-tall companion. He hurried around to the panel where he’d last seen her, letting out a relieved breath when she appeared unhurt. Even so, while his left hand turned a crank and several dials, his right scooped up Zepheera and lifted her to his shoulder. “How ‘bout we try this?” It was still early days for the pair of them, and neither had ever lived so closely with someone of such a dramatic size difference before.
But they were learning. Zepheera didn’t have time to be cross about being picked up without warning because the Doctor was already on the move. She clung to his collar as the Time Lord dashed about, and through trial and error she found a stable position in shoving her legs under his lapel and anchoring her feet against his neck.
Once she felt secure, Zepheera actually thought this wasn’t so bad. Sure, riding on a giant’s shoulder was nerve-wracking, not to mention he moved at a borderline dizzying rate. But at least up here, she wouldn’t have to worry about any flying converse.
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.”
11. “Stop manhandling me. I can get there on my own.”
It all happened so fast.
One minute, John Smith had been patiently scouring the internet for signs of danger–signs he would never have thought to look for if not for Zepheera, the four and a half inch tall woman who had turned his life on its head. The next, his apartment door exploded and heavily shrouded figures burst in.
John flew to the nearest window with a fire escape, narrowly dodging capture, and ran like he never had before. He didn’t stop until he’d put three blocks between himself and the building, collapsing against the wall of an alleyway, breathing heavily from the exertion and adrenaline.
A squirming against the right side of his chest elicited a surprised gasp from John. He knew exactly what, or rather who was struggling in the breast pocket of his shirt, but he barely remembered putting her there. He didn’t even think about it; the second he realized there was danger, his hand had been there to scoop up the borrower and ferry her to the pocket. Like some hidden instinct.
As he reached in delicately and lifted out her rumpled figure, he received a scathing glare from Zepheera’s intense, deep violet eyes. Before all the trouble, she had set strict ground rules for personal boundaries between her and John, detailing exactly how dangerous the human hand could be to someone like her, and how unpleasant it was to be grabbed by one.
He withered a little under her scrutiny.
“Sorry,” he muttered, sliding his back down the brick wall until he sat on the ground, letting the tiny woman off by his feet.
She nodded in acknowledgement of his apology once she was on solid ground, straightening her clothes and hair before regarding him again. “Did you get the watch?”
John heaved a disappointed sigh, running a hand down his face. The fob watch. Two days ago, it had been nothing more than an old relic he kept lying around, but now it seemed that the entire goddamn universe was after it. After him. And he’d gone and left it with the bad guys.
“Damn it, John…” Zepheera grumbled, massaging her pounding temples. “We can’t leave it. There’s every possibility they’ll find out where we hid it.”
John nodded, having finally caught his breath. “Alright, let’s go.” Without thinking he reached for her again, stopping only when she jumped out of the way.
“Stop manhandling me!” she scolded, and he drew his hand back like she’d burned it with her words. “I can get there on my own.”
John’s eyes widened. “What?”
“They could still be there! If they get a hold of that watch, that’s bad, but if they have the watch and you, that is the nightmare scenario. They want the Doctor, John, and that is the one thing we /cannot/ allow them to have.” Letting out a resigned breath, she looked up at him with a slightly softened expression. “You need to run. Go, find somewhere safe to hide. I’ve added a number to your mobile that’ll link you to the TARDIS, call it once you’re secure. I’ll find the watch. Alright?”
The human’s mouth was dry. He hated the idea of leaving Zepheera on her own with those things. She was so small and could be hurt so easily. Then again, he had no doubt she could use her size to her advantage.
The borrower in question stared up at the Doctor with affronted incredulity.
“This isn’t funny anymore, Doctor.” Her voice was so quiet and close to breaking that she finally elicited an emotional response from the Time Lord. He looked confused, but it was something, and she latched on to the chink in the armor she seemed to have found.
“I dunno if this is just you getting me to try new things or…or forget about my past, but this is just…” She heaved a deep breath to release some of the tension building up in her chest. “Doctor, you know exactly why I have a problem with cats, why a significant part of our friendship hinges on the fact–the fact–that you are not a cat person!”
“I’m not a cat person!” insisted the Doctor, his voice going a bit squeaky in the half-shout. The volume of his voice did nothing to faze Zepheera, who placed her hands on her hips and shot him a disbelieving look. The Doctor blinked, eyes trailing back to the kitten he was still holding and petting.
“Well…maybe I’m a kitten person.”
Zepheera groaned miserably.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Final part next Saturday!
Cybermats! Zepheera silently cursed, turning to run away from the rat-sized mechanical extensions of the cybermen. They were scouts for the most part, but she knew firsthand that they had a bite to them. Her stomach turned at the memory.
A glance over her shoulder revealed there were four cybermats chasing her inside the walls, and she only had one electromagnetic charge that might not even work! She’d modeled it off a similar device she’d seen the humans use to fight off cybermen, but she hadn’t had time to test it out before the whole place had been overrun by the cyber-vermin in pursuit of her, separating her from the Doctor.
She had no need to worry about him, he always managed to find a clever way to escape certain death. She could only hope some of that luck had rubbed off on her, because being four and a half inches tall chased by four foot-long bitey machines, Zepheera was beginning to question her chances.
Rounding a sharp corner, she caught sight of a power outlet a few yards ahead. There! She just needed to make it to there. She risked one more look behind and picked up speed. The cybermats were gaining a little too close for her liking. The second she ducked past the wires connected to the outlet, she activated her charge and thrust it towards them. The miniscule device magnetized itself to the wires and blasted them with its power, creating a surge that effectively knocked out all four cybermats before they could chew their way through to Zepheera.
She allowed herself a triumphant “Woohoo!” before climbing her way into the room outside.
The place was empty, had long been evacuated. It was pitch dark, the boarded-up windows allowing in no light; evidently, her charge had knocked out the room’s power as well. She made a mental note to make more of those devices as she crept carefully toward the nearest door. She needed to find—
Before she could finish her thought, she was swept up in a tangle of limbs and giant fingers. She began to struggle immediately; the place had been full of humans before the ambush, and she was most definitely not in the mood for this.
“Get your over-sized mitts off me!” she demanded as the hands cupped around her, allowing her to reach the small knife kept hidden in her boot. Not nearly large enough to do any human real damage, but it was enough to sting, and sometimes that was all a borrower needed to stay alive.
She’d only just got her hand around the handle when her captor replied: “Easy there, pipsqueak, it’s just me!”
Looking up and seeing the Doctor’s familiar silhouette filled her with equal amounts of relief and annoyance. “I thought I told you not to call me that. Or sneak up on me and grab me when I’m not looking!”
“Well sor-ry for checking to make sure my friend didn’t get nibbled by cybermats!” Despite the sarcastic tone, there was actual apology in his eyes. “I was worried.”
Zepheera sighed, unable to stay mad at him for long. He wore his hearts on his sleeves, and she never once doubted that he truly cared about her. “Yeah, well I didn’t. See? All four limbs. Fine. No nibbles off me. Get us out of here, big fella, I’ll tell you all about it!”
“Oh! Hello, little fella,” the Doctor softly greeted the dark, pink-ribboned kitten who’d managed to climb onto his shoulder. It mewed timidly as it looked down from its precarious perch. “Yeah, I bet it does look high,” replied the Time Lord, “but don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”
“Doctor, what is a cat doing in my spot?” Zepheera demanded, tired of being continuously ignored.
This time, the Doctor actually spared her an exasperated glance. “Don’t exaggerate, he’s a kitten not a cat. And it’s my shoulder.”
“Where I sit! A lot!”
Another mewling cry escaped the kitten as its balance wavered; it was trying to crawl down the slope of the Doctor’s raised elbow with some difficulty. Its paw slipped and the Doctor’s free hand swung in to catch it before it fell. “Ooh! Careful. See, what’d I tell ya. I’ve got you…” Using both hands to support the small feline, he cradled it close and turned to look down at Zepheera, whose back was pressed firmly against a junk-filled box on the nearby table.
Oblivious of her skeptical scowl, he smiled and said, “Come on, Zepheera, just say hello!”
Borrowed Time and Space 