Tuesday, December 12, 2017


I looked down at my right hand. The infection had taken solid root all the way up my arm, into my shoulder, and down my back. I was in two minds about it. The first was the normal scared because I nor the Doctor knew anything about what it was or what it could do to me. The second was that this was super cool and the hope that maybe I could be a little bit like Poison Ivy from the Batman series. I liked the thought that perhaps I could make plants grow. Maybe my bees back home would sting me less when I checked on them.

That thought was immediately followed by  the realization that I still had little memory of how I got on the TARDIS in the first place. I had plenty of memories being at home on Earth. But there was a significant blurry gap between that and the TARDIS. Then, all darkness. I touched the component on my forehead and wondered when, if ever, I would be restored.

I looked back down at the sleeping Doctor. My intuition flared from deep inside and said something about him sleeping was the only time he was still and quite. Since he rarely slept, this was something few had ever seen. I chuckled. "Like a first person video game. The player character doesn't need to sleep after the first ten or so levels unless she's at super low health and doesn't want to waste healing potions." My intuition laughed and called me a geek.

I stood up and went to the doorway that lead into the TARDIS from the main control room. "Yeah, I am a geek. That means I know a quest when I see one. I don't need god rays, a giant hovering question mark, or a compass to point at it." I looked up at the doorframe. The trim surrounding it metal but had a design to look like wood grain on it. I would have called it "Rivendale Elvish" if I didn't know that it was alien. In between the lines of embossed grain, there was a mark that did not fit in with the rest of decoration. It appeared as though some person had spilled a drink on it and the liquid was continuing to move. I pointed at it. "TARDIS, it doesn't take a genius to know that, that right there, is a quest."

The TARDIS did not respond.

I dropped my finger and turned towards the console. "And you know what else has been troubling me?" I asked the giant spiraling tube. "You are a type forty, space and time machine, built by ancient, super smart aliens, that have access to a time vortex, and you..." I marched right up to the console unit. "...YOU do not have a holographic computer interface! What is up with that? There are thirty-nine types before you, no telling how many after, and you don't have an AI interface?! That! That is absolutely bizarre! There is no way I am going to believe that Time-lords never needed a holographic interface."

The sound of static came from behind me. I turned to see a static silhouette. As it flashed and buzzed, I would swear I saw some weird humanoid, with a glass skull dressed in 17th century clothing. It clicked and wheezed. "We do not have the parts." It said before blipping out. A second silhouette appeared in the same static manner as the one before it. This one, however, looked like a metal man wearing old fashioned headphones. "You will be upgraded." It said in a computer voice before, it too, blipped out.

I was gobsmacked. I looked at the Doctor and got mad. Mad like I have never gotten mad before. It wasn't me who had felt angry at the Doctor for forgetting. It wasn't me who had a deep feeling of betrayal. It wasn't me who was becoming bitter at the sight of him. Those were not my feelings.

I put my hands on the console. "I am sorry. I got confused. But I understand now. I promise I will help you. I swear I will do what ever I can do to make him listen. He can't run anymore." I sighed and I felt tears coming from my eyes. "Listen. I might have to get crazy. I might have to become the biggest, baddest, most horrible person to get him to co operate. Being nice, being kind, won't do it. I have no doubts that you have already tried that."

At that moment another voice came from behind. I turned my head and clearly saw a blond woman with a sonic screwdriver in her hand. "No," she said. "Ten over fourteen. The math doesn't lie. It will take woman."

I took my hands off the console and turned to face the hologram. The instant I did, the hologram fuzzed and blipped out. "I do not understand that," I said.

It didn't matter. At that moment, the Doctor woke up.

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Monday, December 11, 2017

The Day I hurt the Doctor

The Doctor and I were arguing. It doesn't matter what we were arguing about. It's only important to know that we were arguing, heatedly.

The Doctor has a way with words. He can inspire and motivate beings into fantastic things. The other side of that is the Doctor, when he is angry, can say hurtful and enraging things that a person can find hard to forget. It is in this way, he demonstrates he is less like a god and more like an average human male. The Doctor, like some men I know, when he feels he is losing an argument that he really feels he needs to "win," brings up gender or species.

"What would you know about it?" My static-shadow Doctor yelled. "You are a young, human, woman! I am old..."

"Oh! I know! You seem to keep saying that," I interrupted. "Just because you are old doesn't mean you know everything about the universe and what is in it. To whit, you also keep remarking! You have told me time and time again that you run to things yet unknown and undiscovered. And then, when confronted by a confusing thing, you are the first to yell the words of a little boy!"

"And what would that be? I don't yell..."

"Yes, you do! You are the first to yell the equivalent of "Mommy!" I said. "Only Mommy is spelled differently for you!"

"Spelled differently?"

"You spell "Mommy" T.A.R.D.I.S.!"

Okay. So I may have taken that argument too far. But it was made worse by the TARDIS making a funny whizzing sound from the console. And even from my point of view, it sounded like the TARDIS was laughing. Which, made the Doctor feel outnumbered by women. I also freely admit, that I played right into his age, species, and gender thing with a worse age and gender response. This of course, emasculated him. I was sorry after I said it. But I couldn't take it back in the heat of the argument.

"That's it!" yelled the Doctor. His body static began to shift through a number of faces before settling on one I had not seen before. It was an older gentleman with a very English nose. "You are going to stay right here, in the TARDIS!"

"And do what?" I asked. "Wait for you like a good little girl?"

"Yes! Good Idea!" he replied and walked to the TARDIS doors. "There's a kitchen on level 33 that hasn't been touched in 400 years! Get to it!" He went through the doors and slammed them shut behind him.

I took a deep breath and placed my hand on the console. "TARDIS, I should not have said all that. It so frustrating when he doesn't listen. And I just don't know how to handle it properly." The TARDIS seemed to respond with a sighing wheezing sound.

"I'll bet you have had you frustrations too in that matter. How do you handle it?" I asked the console.

Now, let me be clear. I wasn't expecting a response from the TARDIS. And I didn't get one in the traditional way. The TARDIS doesn't work that way. However, if you are quite and still, she does speak. Which is why the Doctor can rarely communicate with her. When is the Doctor ever quite and still?

So, my best description of this event falls under the category of how the Jedi communicate with The Force. By setting aside my anger, and letting my intuition do the talking. Which is easier said than done.

 The response from the TARDIS was very simple, "Don't argue. Give him what he wants." I swear I could feel her smile.

"How?" I asked. I looked around the main control room. The room was huge.

The TARDIS responded by releasing a lever, followed by a whooshing sound.

I laughed.

For me, it was quite sometime before I saw the Doctor again. I don't know how long it was for him. When the TARDIS returned to the same spot, it didn't take very long for the Doctor to burst through the doors, out of breath, and singed. Little wisps of smoke trailed off of him. He didn't take any time to notice the interior of the TARDIS. He had twirled back around and was looking out of the little windows of the doors.

"You were part right, Jessica. That didn't go as planned," said my static-shadow Doctor. "Although, when does it ever?" He turned around and froze. As he stood there, through the little window in the doors, I could see explosions and flaming chaos outside.

I could not see his face, as usual. But I got the impression that he noticed the clean and sparkling interior of the control room. More than that, his shock was typified by the fact I was standing in front of the console unit in full regalia. Which means, I was dressed in a knee length, pink poodle skirt, a button up blouse and sweater, featuring  my initials embroidered on the left shoulder. My hair was brushed back and neatened by a beaded hair band. I was wearing pearl jewelry, sporting high heels, and had a high ball in my hand. "Tough day at work dear?" I asked. "Hot toddy? Or would you like your slippers first?" I lifted up the glass.

I don't know what was more shocking for him. Me dressed as a 1957 Earth  house-wife or the explosion that rocked the TARDIS from the outside.  Or perhaps that his TARDIS was clean enough to be featured in Good  Housekeeping, alien spaceship edition. Whatever it was, he didn't say and simply stood there, without words, whilst the TARDIS was rocked by yet another explosion.

I walked forward and put the beverage into his hand and took the sonic from the other. "You put your feet up, I'll be right back." I walked out the doors.

An hour later, I returned to the TARDIS. My clothes were a bit singed but I was in piece. My shadow Doctor was standing at the console looking at the monitor. He smacked it away and turned towards me. "How did you know?" he asked.

"Well, the whole wardrobe smelled of soldiers and muscle cars! Have you ever had your clothes laundered? Ever?" I replied.

"Not that." he said.

"Well, you do drink a lot of tea. I thought that you would like a hot toddy better than a sidecar. It actually has tea in it," I said.


"Ah, the Trebutons. How I could get them to stop when you couldn't."


I sighed and walked over to him. "Doctor, you are old and you are very clever. But sometimes, you miss the subtleties. The Trebutons culture value the females of the species, but for some reason don't give them rights to speak in a political forum. They revere a Goddess. There was a 20 meter statue of her in the temple. You stood right beside it, for Pete's sake. Did it not occur to you that a female, a strong female, a female who didn't adhere to traditions or worry about the culture's minutia, resembling that Goddess would smooth things over and help both sides to negotiate rather than fight it out?" I shook my head. "No, the looks they were giving me were worry and reverence. I appeared out of a mysterious blue box with a magic man brandishing a wand! I scared the daylights out of every single one of those toads," I said. "You misunderstood their looks of fear. They didn't want to kidnap me or hurt me. They were afraid that I was divine and would not approve of their little 'disagreement.' And they were correct! Had you not scuttled me off into the TARDIS for my 'safety,' I would have been able to help you. But it had to be about you and only you that could help them. When I argued with you and said I could help, you disagreed! The reason you gave was that you are old and know everything. Which you are but you don't."

I bent down to take of the high heels. "I am sorry for what I said. Especially how I said it. I did not mean to emasculate you and call you a child. It happened in the heat of argument. Much of what we say in those situations are not meant to be taken seriously. And for that, I will take the blame. I am also apologizing for my way of taking it out on you."

"Cleaning the TARDIS was how you got back at me for the argument?" he asked, confused.

"Oh no," I said. "I am apologizing for ORGANIZING your TARDIS."

His response was low and quite. "What?" He said it like I had punched him in the parts that really hurt.

"Yes. The TARDIS and I called in a favor. It took six years and an army of cleaning people. But the TARDIS is not only clean, but it is organized, labeled, categorized, and placed. You will find a database of items and locations uploaded into the main computer, ready to be downloaded into your sonic. That way when you want something, all you do is point and click. The sonic will tell you which room it is in, and the locator beacon will lead you to the correct spot.

The Doctor, the lonely god, in all his frozen glory, fainted.

As he lay there, I was really sorry, super sorry for what I had done. After all he had been through, wars, Daleks, sacrifice, bloodshed, and tears, nothing could hurt the Doctor on that level. I felt like a monster, an invading evil demon, that had crashed his unchanging, comfortable world and burned it to cinders. At that moment, I was afraid of him. Genuinely, piss myself scared, of what he would do when he woke back up. I knew he wouldn't kill me or physically hurt me. But there are so many things worse than death or maiming that he could do to me to punish me. The one thing that came to mind right away was that he would just drop me off and forget me. A cold, wordless good-bye for all eternity.

What was done, could not be undone. I sighed and retrieved a blanket. I covered him up and sat down beside him. Perhaps, it was best for him to sleep it off. I was in no hurry to face the raven.

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