Claire slept soundly as the digital clock on her bedside table glowed with the luminous truth of nine o'clock, her feet pointing out from under the heavy blanket and a bit of drool slipping from the corner of her half-open mouth. It was a sunny, wintry day, and the folks of London were bundled up against the cold as they went about their Saturday business; walking, taking a bus, riding the Underground to work.

Five minutes past nine was when the first explosion split the air. It shook the windows of Claire’s modest little flat, it startled flocks of birds into the air suddenly full of ships, and chaos ensued as more followed the first of the bombs.

Claire started awake. She could hear screams in the street below. Another explosion, sounding farther away than the one that had awoken her, rattled her windows and vibrated the floor of her apartment. More screams, and a new cacophony of car alarms joined the chaotic chorus from the streets. Claire stood up and hurried to her window; she heaved it open, looked out, and gasped at what she saw.

The London sky was filled with - what seemed to be - spaceships? They were everywhere, hovering over the streets, the shops, the homes; too many to count. Occasionally a sort of blue light would flash from one of the ships, and down would drop some kind of bomb. Yet Claire saw no insignia upon the flying craft, no sort of symbol pointing as to which country or affiliation the terrorists belonged to.

Claire was in shock, as more and more of the extra-terrestrial bombs were dropped on London.

"Episode I, Claire."

“…the official word is that aliens are behind the continuing attacks upon London. These attacks haven’t occurred anywhere else in the country so far, yet the damage being done to the city is immense, and the death toll is rising...,” the news reporter stated, blinking her false eyelashes as she read out the news with all her usual boredom. Claire stood in her little kitchen, making herself a cup of tea; chamomile, of course.

There was a ring at the phone just as she was putting the water on. Sighing, and already with a good idea of who it was, Claire picked it up. “Hullo?”

“Claire! Are you all right? Are you watching the news? Has anything happened?!" said a worried voice on the other line.

"I'm okay, Mum, you don't have to worry," she reassured her anxious foster-mother.

"Oh, are you sure? I woke up with bombs bursting everywhere and I was so worried!" Her foster-mother continued to ramble on in this fashion for some time as Claire continued to busy herself with her tea.

"Look, Mum, I'll pop in on you and Dad later, just relax," she finally said with an exasperated tone.

"Fine, Claire. Just be safe, okay? I'll see you later."

“Bye, Mum,"

"Bye, Claire. Oh! And don't forget - " Her foster-mother's final words were cut off as Claire hung up the phone. Waiting for the water to come to a boil, Claire wandered into the tiny sitting room of her flat, perching herself on the corner of the coffee table and watching the news, where an bird's-eye view showed the "extra-terrestrial terrors" attacking London.

"The Royal Air Force has tried to stop these invaders..."

Humpf. Fight violence with violence, that'll solve everything,

said the sarcastic little voice in the back of Claire's head.

"...yet the foreign ships seem to be shielded, and are still pressing slowly onwards to the heart of London,"

"Let me guess; and still the Prime Minister has declined comments..." Claire said aloud.

"..And still the Prime Minister has declined any comments on the issue..." the newscaster stated in between unnecessary blinks. Claire snorted.

"Of course. Thanks, Parliament!" she said with sarcasm.

Now, this was when the life of Claire Faircloth got interesting, for aliens attacking London is perhaps considered quite boring to what she would experience next.

The hairs on the back of Claire's neck suddenly stood up for (what she thought) no reason. Absentmindedly rubbing them down, she stood as the kettle in the kitchen began to whistle. She passed the cramped little hallway that led to her bedroom, and that's when she realized the shrilly protesting tea-kettle and the TV weren't the only sounds in her flat; there was a strange noise underneath it all.

It was (I'm very sorry) indescribable; it ebbed and flowed like the sea, sang and whispered like the wind. Claire had never heard anything like it; it was beautiful and harsh, but more importantly it was coming from her bedroom. Wondering how much stranger her Saturday could get, she made her hesitant way down the hall, wary and altogether very confused.

I'm pretty sure you know what awaited her in her bedroom. A blue box, a police call box from the fifties, was passing in and out of existence, flickering from place to place in the universe, its image growing stronger with every flash coming from the light on its roof, until finally it was solid and stationary. The noise faded away. Claire stood in her doorway, stricken numb with wonder.

She finally began to recover and creep towards the box when out tumbled a man. Claire hopped back in surprise as the man leaned on the doorway of his strange blue box, his chest heaving and his hazel eyes wildly sweeping the room.

"This isn't Uranus," were the first words out of his lips. Claire was quite startled again, and remained pressed against the wall, taking in this strange sight. The man was tall and petite, with tousled brown hair and wide eyes. He was dressed simply in a pinstriped suit that hugged his little frame. A pair of square-framed glasses rested on his face.

"Oh, hello there. Where am I?" he said after a moment, finally noticing frightened little Claire. Before she could even manage a single syllable, he had snapped up. "No, no, no! Let me guess, ah, hmm," he began, speaking quickly and taking a strange little device from his jacket pocket. He started pacing in circles around the blue box. "Reasonable atmosphere, obvious inhabitation..." The little device began beeping and flashing as he started running it up and down a section of the wall. Claire stared at the strange little man, her mouth unconsciously open. "Drywall, hmm..." That's when he started sniffing. Sniff-sniff. "Hmm..." Sniff-sniff-sniff. "I see..." His nostrils expanded as he drew in a giant whiff. "Hmm, is that...ah, Cheetos!" he said, picking up the bag of said cheesy snack from Claire's bedside table and reaching eagerly inside for the crunchy reward within.

At this, Claire finally recomposed herself. "Uhm, excuse me?" The man didn't hear her in his savouring of the Cheetos.

"Ahh," he mumbled with his mouth full, "humans!"

"Er, sir?" Claire said, slightly louder this time.

The man still did not hear her, pulling out another handful of cheesy delights. "Earth. Must be," he mumbled with content, shoving them eagerly in his mouth.

"OI!!!" she finally yelled. The man looked over at her in surprise with Cheetos sticking out of his mouth.

"Oh, yeah!" he said, and quickly swallowing the last of his cheesy snack, he put the bag down and held out a hand as he walked over to her. "Hullo! I'm the Doctor!" He stood in front of Claire with his cheesy fingers held out for her to shake.

"The Doctor?"

"Yup!"

"Doctor Who?"

"Yup!"

"No, I mean, who the Hell are you?!"

"The Doctor!"

Claire sighed. This man was obviously insane. Claire couldn't help but stare at the cheesy powder around his mouth as she spoke again. "All right then, Doctor. Why are you in my house?" Claire was angry now. Who was this crazy person, appearing in her bedroom and eating her Cheetos, and -

"WHAT are you DOING?!"

"Just evaluating the -"

"You were LICKING my WALL!!!" Now, Claire was fairly irate. She stomped out of her room and made her way to the kitchen, where the tea kettle was still whistling.

"No, I mean, yes, but it wasn't for pleasure or anything, though it tasted pretty fine to me -”

THUD. Claire, upon realizing that the strange intruder had followed her into the kitchen, had proceeded to grab a rolling pin from the counter and whack him on the head with it.

"I am going to give you a five second head start to get out of my house before I phone the police, got it?" she said as the Doctor leaned against her counter for support, blinking rapidly from his blow to the head.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?!" he asked in defensive bewilderment.

"One," Claire began counting threateningly.

“Look, I’m sure you’re confused, but -”

“Two...”

“Just give me half a minute to explain and -”

“Three...” Claire reached behind her with her free hand and seized her phone from the counter, still clutching the rolling pin.

“Listen, I’m not trying to hurt you or -”

“Four...”

“Look, I - oh, just shut up!” the Doctor burst out in anger; for a moment, Claire thought he had been speaking to her, before he removed the tea kettle from the stove-top, which had been whistling the entire time. “Now, I can explain everything, if you’ll just give me a moment -”

“You can explain it to the cops, ‘cause I’m calling them no matter what you say!” Claire interjected angrily.

“What if I told you I wasn’t from this planet.” Claire looked up at him from where she had dialled in the first of the digits and snorted in disbelief, though the perfectly sane and calm look on the Doctor’s face made her nervous.

“I’m sure you can plead insanity in court,”

“You don’t believe me.” It was a statement.

Claire unconsciously put the phone slowly back on the counter as she turned to the TV, where there was a shot of several of the alien ships dropping bombs around the Thames.

“This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, is it.”

“The ship crashing into Big Ben…all those Christmases…Canary Wharf…all those planets in the sky…but -”

“Listen to me,” the Doctor said, moving to stand in front of Claire. “I need to get to the bottom of all this -”

“These attacks?”

“Yes, now can you tell me when it all started? Has it been going on very long?” He spoke quickly, so that Claire could only just understand what he was saying.

“Uh, I dunno, I was asleep, but -”

“Right! Then we must be off!” the Doctor declared, a sort of manic gleam in his eyes as he stalked to the front door.

“Wait! Doctor, where -”

“To the scene of the crime, oh,” the Doctor stopped, causing Claire to run into him, “what’s your name again?”

“C-Claire!” she spluttered out, dazed from hitting her head on the Doctor’s bony shoulder.

“Ah! Lovely name, comes from the French! ‘Illustrious,’ it means!” he pronounced, digressing. “Right, on we go!” He started off again at a brisk pace, leaving a confused and slightly annoyed Claire to follow along, wondering how much stranger her day could get.

　

　

“That’s Mrs. Johnson, she lives next door, she knows everything…”

“Now what makes you say that?”

“Well…’cause she knows…everything…”

Claire and the strange ‘Doctor’ man were power-walking down the street outside Claire’s apartment complex. Sounds of distant bomb-droppings in other, more populated corners of London, sounds of screams and sirens, along with the sharp odour of burning rubber, wafted through the air.

“Excuse me, ah, Mrs. Johnson? Could I have a quick word?” the Doctor inquired of Claire’s squat little neighbour. She turned around.

“Huh? What?” she asked, one of her many cats squirming in her arms. “Oh, hullo, Claire. I was just taking Sir Francis here to get the paper with me,” she said, smiling as she saw Claire. The cat in her arms, “Sir Francis,” grumbled darkly.

“Hi, Mrs. Johnson. Look, my friend here, he needs to talk to you,” Claire said quickly, gesturing to the Doctor.

“About what?” Mrs. Johnson asked suspiciously, taking in the Doctor’s appearance from his untidy hair to his long coat.

“Well, about the alien-thingies, to be quite frank,” the Doctor said.

“Alien-thingies? You mean those?” Mrs. Johnson pointed up at the sky, where a huge chrome spaceship was looming over them.

“Yup!” the Doctor said pleasantly, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Doctor, I think we should go…” Claire said nervously, looking up at the ship.

“Well, I don’t much about them, really. I just woke up at nine this morning, looked out, and out of nowhere London was under attack!”

“So it started this morning, then?”

“Doctor…”

“Yes.”

“Please, Doctor, we should go…”

“Did they try to make contact before they started attacking?”

“Doctor, please!”

“No, not that I know.”

“Well, did-”

“DOCTOR!” Claire finally yelled.

“WHAT?!” he replied in kind, turning to her.

“RUN!!” she yelled, pointing upwards as a panel on the ship above them began to open. Something began to fall.

“Good advice,” he said, before grabbing Claire’s hand and running. Behind them, there was a mighty yowling as Sir Francis finally managed to free himself.

“Sir Francis, no!” Mrs. Johnson wailed.

“Come ON, Mrs. Johnson!” The Doctor let go of Claire’s hand and ran back to the short old lady, leading her away from the street.

“But -”

“HURRY!” Claire interrupted Mrs. Johnson’s protests by running forward and shoving her behind an upturned SUV, ignoring the strange senses that had been set off when the Doctor had touched her. The Doctor grabbed Claire by the waist, sending those senses into overload, and pushed her behind the SUV. There was a large BOOM, the ground shook, but…

“What?” The Doctor stood from where he had been crouching next to Claire and walked back into the street, where a large metal canister of some sort lay.

“Shouldn’t it have exploded, or something?” Claire asked, following him. Had she thought about it, the logical part of her brain would have told her to run back to her flat and lock the door, yet from the moment she had heard the noise of the Doctor’s strange blue box, something else had awoken in her.

“Exactly, it should’ve,” he replied, crouching next to the canister and pulling out a stethoscope, “unless…”

“It’s not a bomb?” Claire put in, looking at the giant canister.

“Right. You’re good at this,” the Doctor said, sounding surprised. He stood up. “Now, why would they bomb the rest of the city and not here…?” Claire shivered in the winter air.

“So what now?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well, now you need to go back home, and -” the Doctor started.

“What?! No, I’m not going anywhere!” Claire interrupted angrily.

“Well, you’re not coming with me, it’s -”

“Oh, yes I am!”

“No, you’re not,” the Doctor replied, taking off his long coat. “It’s not safe, and it’s freezing out here.” He handed the coat to Claire, who accepted it gladly.

“I don’t care, and who says it’s any safer back at my house, what with you barging in and mucking up my day,” Claire replied, putting on the coat. The sleeves went past her hands.

“Okay, you’re right,” the Doctor sighed after a moment. “Just, stay here until I come back, all right?”

“But -”

“Please?”

Claire frowned, then sat on the SUV. “Fine. But you’re coming right back here and explaining everything, okay?” she said sternly.

“Of course!” the Doctor said, already running off. Claire sighed and cuddled into the large jacket, savouring the warmth. Mrs. Johnson was in the street, calling for Sir Francis, who Claire saw running down a back alley to freedom. She sighed again, and snuggled deeper into the coat, but stopped when she felt something in one of the pockets jab into her chest.

She reached in; she pulled out a plain key, a banana, an Egyptian ankh, a small bag of cat nip, and finally, the little beeping device the Doctor had used.

“Oi! Doctor, you forgot your…” Claire started, standing up. She stopped when she saw that the Doctor had disappeared. “Well, then,” she said, looking it over. It was like a large pen, with a blue light on the end and strange knobs and buttons all over it. It felt warm to the touch. Shrugging, she pocketed it again, along with all the other random paraphernalia she had found in the Doctor’s jacket.

TSS!

Claire looked up, surprised as the alien canister began hissing. Steam rose off it in waves. Claire stood up and prepared to run or fight, whichever one seemed wiser.

It opened.

Claire took a few steps back, but tripped over the too-large jacket as something emerged from the canister.

Or, should I say, somethings.

They came at her, grabbing her, hauling her, oblivious to her struggles and curses.

With Claire in tow, they returned to their ship.

　

　

At some point, Claire must have gotten a bad blow to the head, for she blacked out for a while. However, she awoke some time later with a wicked headache. She dimly opened her eyes, and realized she was lying down. Maybe it was all a dream, she mused, but she soon realized that comforting thought couldn’t be true, for as she sat up, she realized she was not at home, but rather in, well, a spaceship.

Her mouth fell open.

Futuristic circuit boards covered the chrome walls, while wires of all colours snaked across the floor. Strange buttons flashed everywhere she looked and as she stood up from the metal table which she had been lying on, something clicked and opened; a large metal sheet in front of her started quivering, and before her curious eyes it rose up to reveal a giant window, wall to wall, floor to ceiling.

Open-mouthed, Claire walked forward to the window and looked out upon a besieged London. Smoke curled and twisted up from random streets, planes zoomed over buildings, and alien ships slowly hovered over the city. From this bird’s eye view, Claire could see how organized the fleet was arranged, in a sort of semi-circle pressing inwards towards the centre of the city. She realized that the ship she was in was at the forefront, completing the circle.

“Holy jumping Jesus Christmas biscuits,” Claire said, blurting out the first words that came to mind. She was just thinking how glad she was no one heard that when a voice spoke behind her.

“Enjoying the view, Doctor?” Claire spun around, and found the speaker to be none other than a robot. It had an intricate, almost human-like face - despite the fact it was metal. It had what looked like a human anatomy as well; torso, arms, legs, but the chrome sheen of its skin (or would a better word be shell?) and the glowing bar that rested where a mouth should on human gave away its robotic nature. The robot was flanked by several others of its kind, with the same features, yet they were slightly less shiny than their ring-leader.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Claire blurted out, holding her fist out like a weapon, though she thought punching one of the robots would probably break her hand. The leader of the creatures laughed, signalling with a chrome hand for its followers to do the same. Claire felt goose pimples rise up on her arms; their laughter wasn’t cold or robotic like in all the movies she had seen, but melodic, with personality - like a human.

The lead robot stopped laughing, and the ones behind immediately stopped as well - except for one, who kept giggling a split second more. Without a word or a glance, the leader raised its hand, and two of its followers took the robot that had kept laughing and marched him to a corner. As Claire watched with curious eyes, the robots took their fellow through a futuristic sliding door and out of the room. With horror, Claire saw through a round window on the door the glint of a saw and the glare of flames, along with the screeching sound of ripping metal.

Two seconds later, and only two robots emerged from the other room to stand behind their leader once more. A bit of dark, greasy smoke wafted lazily into the room.

Claire realized her mouth was open and quickly shut it. She was appalled; slaughtering one of their own for simply laughing?

“I do not doubt that you have forgotten our last meeting, Doctor, but then again, I doubt nothing,” the leader said. From the sound of its voice, Claire guessed it was female - if these robots had genders.

“Confirmed: doubt is for the infidels,” said one of her followers. Again, the human qualities of its voice unsettled Claire.

“Your face is new, your memories are gone, and you don’t even have one of your pathetic companions to save your neck. How are you going to slither out of this one, Doctor?” the leader said in a mocking tone, the bar on her face where a mouth should be flashing with blue and green lights in time with the robot’s words.

Oh my God, they think that I’m the Doctor!

Claire thought. Frantically, she tried to make up her mind whether to reveal the truth or play along. It only took a few seconds to figure out the best course that would keep her alive.

“Well, you know me, but it seems that I don’t know you…” she said, putting her hands in the pockets of the Doctor’s large coat.

“The Casvinnians will not be unknown,” the followers started chanting, their mouth-bars flashing red in time with their words. “The Casvinnians will not be unknown. The Casvinnians will not be unknown. The Cas -” The lead robot raised her hand, and the chanting ceased immediately.

“Refresh your memory, Doctor?” she sneered.

“Ah yes, the Casavininiuns,” Claire struggled out, trying to pronounce the name correctly and ultimately failing.

“Do not mock us! We are supreme! We are the shining light of a new dawn! We will master the universe!” the lead robot shrieked, her mouth-gap flashing a violent red. “I am Casvinnia, and you will not mock us!”

“Oh, uh, sorry, my bad,” Claire stuttered.

“It will not happen again. Turn around, Doctor, and see the might of my children against your precious humans,” the leader, Casvinnia, said. Claire hesitantly turned, unsure of having her back to her captors, and found herself facing the giant window once more.

She gasped.

The window seemed to magnify right before her eyes to show her hundreds - no, thousands - of the so-called Casvinnians marching through London, impervious to the gunfire being rained upon them. Bright green lights flashed from their hands, making whatever they hit fall down in smoke and ash.

“We are more advanced from our last meeting, as you can see. Now not even you, Doctor, can stop us,” Casvinnia said smugly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” said a voice from behind the Casvinnians. Claire turned around, and with an overwhelming sense of relief, saw the real Doctor standing there across the room, his hands in the pockets of his blue pinstriped suit, his stethoscope draped casually around his neck and his extraordinarily hazel eyes glinting behind his small square-framed glasses.

“Identify,” said one of the Casvinnians, turning to face the Doctor with its hands held out to him like a weapon.

“What, don’t recognize me?” When the robot said nothing, the Doctor continued. “The Doctor, remember? Geez, don’t you have your energy settings on at all?”

Claire’s heart started thumping. I’m dead, she thought. Desperately, she tried to signal to the Doctor, but Shut the Hell up, Doctor, just get me out of here! is pretty hard to sign. All of the Casvinnians, including their “mother,” turned to face the intruder, and Claire seized her chance.

　

The Doctor stood pleasantly, hands in his pockets, as Casvinnia and her clone-children turned to face him. “Scan him,” Casvinnia said. One of her clone-children came forwards, one of its hands glowing blue. From behind the robots, the Doctor saw the girl, Clarence - no, Claire, he was thinking of It’s A Wonderful Life - he loved that movie, such a good film, the little kid was so adorable; the Doctor always liked kids, unless they tried to kill him, then he wasn’t overly fond of them, but the last time a child had tried to kill him had been a long time ago - he had been with Claire then - wait, no! Claire! She was waving her arms frantically from behind the Casvinnian’s backs, pointing at herself, pointing at him, mouthing frantic words at him.

The Doctor pointed to his ear and mouthed, What? Claire frowned and pointed at him, then at the door, mouthing what looked like Get the Hell out of here! The Doctor was confused. He pointed at himself, mouthing Me? Claire nodded in an annoyed sort of way. The Doctor pointed at the door.

Go?!

Yes!

Claire mouthed and nodded back angrily.

No!

the Doctor mouthed.

Why not?!

The Doctor was losing his patience; at least Donna was somewhat compliant - no, thinking about Donna hurt. The DoctorDonna, the TimeLord-human hybrid, doomed to burn if she ever remembered anything about the Doctor…

“Commence scanning!” Casvinnia commanded. The Casvinnian with the glowing hand moved closer to the Doctor, running his hand an inch above his body.

I’m saving you!

The Doctor mouthed, pointing to himself and then (rather harder than he meant to) at Claire.

Claire jabbed a finger at the Casvinnians, then at herself, then at the Doctor, mouthing what looked like: They think I’m you!

“State the results,” Casvinnia commanded.

“Results: subject is TimeLord, as evident by two hearts in torso, traces of atron energy in cranium, and traces of huon energy throughout the subject,” the clone-child stated.

The Doctor looked at Claire, worry in his eyes.

The Casvinnians looked at Claire, no expression in their digital eyes.

“Kill the impostor!” Casvinnia shouted.

“NO!” The Doctor shouted. He reached in his pocket, but all he found was a pack of hot sauce; Claire still had his jacket on.

“Wait! You can’t!” he heard her shout. Oh no, oh no, oh no! the Doctor thought on one side of his mind.

“And why not?” Casvinnia said. Desperately, as all the Casvinnians behind their mother turned to face Claire, the Doctor tried using sign language to relay the phrase Give me my jacket! However, Claire’s attention was fixed solely on Casvinnia, her green eyes blazing, her fists clenched, her chin held up in defiance.

You have to admit, the girl was brave. Stupid, yes, but rather brave.

“Because, I am the Doctor and the Doctor is me, so whatever you need from him you can get from me,” she said. The Doctor dropped his jaw for the second time that day. Claire stood tall, no trace of the lie on her face. What the Hell are you doing?! he mouthed at her, making wild gestures behind the Casvinnian’s backs, yet her focus was still fixed on Casvinnia.

“Explain,” Casvinnia said. The Doctor was surprised to hear a slight waver in her voice. Please, please come up with something good, the Doctor thought anxiously on several levels of his mind.

“I’m his daughter,” Claire said, speaking as though it was obvious.

The Doctor had to stop a groan from escaping his lips.

Casvinnia laughed, signalling for her clone-children to do the same. When she stopped, they all stopped. “That is a lie. The Doctor has no family. The Doctor is alone,” she said with triumph in her tone.

“Actually, she is my daughter,” the Doctor finally spoke up. The Casvinnians all turned to face him. Claire’s attention finally snapped to him, but now signalling to her would be much harder without the Casvinnians catching on.

“Impossible. All were killed when your planet burned, Doctor. The Time War spared none,” Casvinnia said.

“Yes, it did, but she is my daughter,” he said, sticking his left hand in his pocket slowly, drawing the movement out. He winked ever so slightly at Claire. She frowned at him, yet copied his movement, reaching into the outer left-hand pocket of his coat.

“Explain,” Casvinnia said, not noticing a thing.

“Well,” the Doctor started, taking his hand out of his pocket and fingering his suit, messing with left-hand flap of the shirt. He gave another sly wink at Claire. “You see, I made her using my own DNA,” he continued. Claire, catching on, reached into the inner left-hand pocket of his coat. The Doctor flashed a small thumbs-up, urging her on.

“How did you accomplish such a thing, Doctor?” Casvinnia asked.

“Well, you know me, put a bunch of junk together and called it a working machine,” he said, putting a bit of emphasis on the word ‘know’ and shaking his head the tiniest of bits. Claire, who had been holding up a banana, got the message and put it back, taking out instead a bag of cat nip and holding it up for the Doctor to see.

“Yeah, no, I don’t even remember how really, I was having sleeping problems at the time, you know,” he said, once again dropping nimble hints as Claire caught them and rejected both the cat nip and the TARDIS key. She dove into the pockets once more and finally pulled out the sonic screwdriver.

“So -” started Casvinnia.

“YES!” the Doctor shouted, interrupting her. “Yeah, that’s what happened,” he added, mouthing out of the corner of his mouth Set it to eighty-two. He also, hands still at his sides, flashed eight and two several times with his fingers.

“Right then,” Casvinnia started, “take them to the extraction room!”

　

Claire looked down at the small device in her hands. The Doctor had mouthed what looked like Set it to eighty-two at her, but how? As Casvinnia continued her banter with the strange Doctor, Claire twisted the little knobs, pressed the little buttons, wondering how on Earth she had gone from making tea in her kitchen to trying to operate some sort of alien pen while floating above London with killer robots.

“Well, you know, just twist the second knob from the top three times is what I always say…” the Doctor said. Catching yet another hint, Claire looked up and grinned at the Doctor before twisting the second knob from the top thrice.

Casvinnia was in the middle of a word when the light on its top started flashing bright blue. That’s also when it started beeping - loudly.

The Casvinnians all turned to face her.

“The Doctor is armed. The Doctor is armed. The Doctor is armed,” they began chanting.

“Doctor!” Claire screamed as the Casvinnians advanced on her.

“THROW IT!” he screamed from behind them. Claire swallowed nervously; she was an awful thrower. “THROW IT, CLAIRE!” the Doctor screamed again. Praying, she threw the little device.

It flew over the Casvinnian’s heads, and as one, they followed its trajectory.

“Yes!” the Doctor said victoriously as the device landed neatly in his outstretched hand.

“The Doctor is armed. The Doctor is armed. The Doctor is armed…”

“C’MON, CLAIRE!” the Doctor shouted, running to the other end of the room and messing with the door there. Claire ran out from behind the Casvinnian’s, ducking her head to avoid bright green flashes which crashed into the walls instead, igniting fires among all the cables and computers.

She ran through the door, where the Doctor was waiting on the other side. It slid shut behind her; as soon as it closed, the Doctor pointed his small blue device at it.

“What are you doing, we need to go!” Claire shouted.

“Locking the door! Come on!” the Doctor said, as with a small beep he withdrew the device and began running down the hallway he and Claire were standing in. Claire quickly caught up to him, her heart pounding blood through her body at three times its normal rate. Her head practically spun with the adrenaline of being chased by killer robots.

“What is that thing?” she asked through pants, meaning his little blue beeping device.

“Sonic screwdriver, of course!” he panted back.

“A screwdriver?! I thought it was some kind of gun!” Claire said, her voice rising up in the octaves as she realized the man who was saving her life only had a screwdriver.

“Nah, I can’t stand guns!” the Doctor replied. “Do I seem like the type to carry around a gun?”

“I don’t know, but I had hoped you had something better than a screwdriver to save our necks!” Claire shouted back. They both slid to a stop at the end of the hallway, where yet another door awaited them.

“What’s so bad about a screwdriver?” the Doctor asked, whipping it out and training it on the door. A sudden bang behind them and a flash of light told them that the Casvinnians had finally blasted their way through the door.

“Never mind, just open the door!” Claire shouted, looking over her shoulder nervously.

“Capture the Doctor. Capture the Doctor. Capture the -” they chanted.

“DOCTOR!”

“GET IN!”

Claire quickly complied, running through the now-open door. It slid shut behind her, and the Doctor once again trained his sonic screwdriver on it, locking it.

“C’mon!” he said, grabbing Claire’s hand and running through the large room they found themselves in. Claire ran as well, clutching the Doctor’s hand as hard as he clutched hers - which was quite hard.

“Do you know where you’re going?” she asked, secretly relishing the feel of adrenaline.

“Nope! It’s more fun that way!” he said, grinning wildly at her, the manic gleam she had first seen of him back in his eyes. Claire found herself grinning back, knowing that while she faced certain death, she had never been more alive.

They slid to a stop at the end of the room, and the Doctor set about unlocking the door with his sonic screwdriver. It finally slid open just as the Casvinnians blasted into the room. The Doctor and Claire ran in, and it closed behind them with a snick! and the Doctor began locking it.

“How big is this place, anyway?” Claire asked, her chest heaving; all that running was starting to take its toll on her stamina.

“Um…” The Doctor let his sentence fade away as he managed to lock the door. “Come on!” Grabbing Claire’s hand, he took off once more. Claire felt manic laughter bubbling up in her chest and escaping from her lips. The Doctor looked over at her and laughed too.

If you had been standing innocently in the hallway at the moment Claire and the Doctor had been running down it, you would have seen two maniacal, laughing fools whooshing past you, holding hands and running for their very lives.

“Quick! Get in!” the Doctor panted out after several more minutes of running. Claire quickly ran through the door he had opened, dodging beams of light from the Casvinnian’s hands/guns.

“Um, where are we?” Claire asked of the Doctor as he backed into the small, cramped room; well, it was less of a room, and more like a small pod.

“Ejection capsule, of course!” he announced casually, sealing them in with his sonic screwdriver.

“WE’RE IN A WHAT?!” Claire screamed. She looked out the small round window, and sure enough, saw the ground, several hundred feet below them.

“ALLONS-Y!” the Doctor shouted, aiming his screwdriver at the capsule’s control panel, launching them from the main ship.

The Doctor laughed as Claire screamed. You see, poor Claire was terrified of heights. But luckily, she wasn’t at a high altitude anymore, because the asphalt was coming up to meet them.

The capsule hit the ground with a BOOM, and after a moment, Claire and the Doctor emerged among the steam; the Doctor laughing, Claire stumbling, looking quite pale. She clung to him for support, feeling rather dizzy, as he stood, laughing, at the dent they had made in the pavement.

Claire began laughing as well, but then stopped, feeling sick, and turned away to vomit.

　

“So, where to know, Doctor?” Claire asked, feeling much better, as she and the Doctor briskly walked down the street.

“Your place!” he said, hands in his pockets.

“My place?”

“Yup!”

“But Doctor, my flat’s that way,” Claire said, pointing in the complete opposite direction.

They stopped, then turned around and began walking towards Claire’s flat.

“Don’t you have a compass in that jacket of your‘s?” she teased.

“Drop it,” the Doctor replied.

Claire giggled. “So why are we going back to my flat? You need some more walls to lick or something?”

“No, but I do need my TARDIS,” he replied.

“You mean that blue box thing?” Claire asked.

“Oh yes!”

There was silence for a few moments as they walked. “But seriously, you don’t have like a universal GPS in there?”

“I said drop it,” the Doctor said, but he couldn’t help but smile.

“All right, all right!” Claire said sarcastically, putting her hands up.

The Doctor smiled. “So tell me about yourself, Claire.”

“Well, there’s not really much to tell,” she replied.

“Well, where do you work?” he asked of her.

She smiled. “I’m a weathergirl down at the news station on sixteenth street.”

“Really?” the Doctor asked, intrigued.

“Trust me, it’s nothing exciting. All I do is stand in front of a green screen, check computers every ten minutes, then go and stand in front of the green screen again.”

“You look a little young to be a weathergirl,” he replied, looking at the petite young woman next to him.

“I had just gotten my meteorology degree when I got the job. I’m only twenty-one,” she said, attempting to nimbly step over a piece of steaming shrapnel in the road, and instead tripping over it.

The Doctor helped Claire to her feet. “You don’t sound happy with your job,” he said.

“I’m not. It sucks,” she replied bitterly, putting her hands in the pockets of the Doctor’s large coat.

“Well what would you rather be doing?” the Doctor asked.

“I want to travel, you know: do the whole, ‘see the world before I die,’ sort of thing,” she said, looking up at him. “What about you?”

“I, er, get around,” he replied.

“You mean you travel...in space?!” Claire said, excited. “Is that blue box like a little spaceship?!”

“Well, you’re half right.”

At last, they reached Claire’s modest little flat. Claire opened her front door and walked down the tiny hall to her tiny bedroom, where the Doctor’s blue box (or “TARDIS,” as he had called it) dominated most of the space.

“Well, it’s been fun, Claire, but this is where I bid thee adieu!” the Doctor said, running into his TARDIS.

“Wait, where are you going?!” Claire asked in outrage.

“To destroy the Casvinnians, of course,” the Doctor replied, sticking his head out of the door, the silly square frames still on his eyes.

“I’m going with you,” Claire said, making to step into the TARDIS, but the Doctor blocked her.

“No, you’re not,” he said. “It’s too dangerous, you could get killed!”

“I could’ve gotten killed plenty of times today, but I didn’t, and that’s why I’m an optimist, and from what it looks like, you need an optimist to brighten things up,” Claire argued; in all actuality, she was more often a pessimist, but she was willing to say anything to keep helping the Doctor.

“You’re not coming with me, Claire,” he replied, slipping back into the TARDIS and closing the door.

“Wait!” she called after him, an idea forming in her mind. The Doctor emerged from his blue box. “Don’t forget your coat,” she said, holding it out without walking forward.

He stepped out of the TARDIS to take it, leaving the door open, and Claire seized her chance; she ran past the Doctor and into the TARDIS.

“Claire!” the Doctor yelled running after her, but he stopped inside the TARDIS once he saw the amazed look on her face.

“So, let me get this straight: This ‘TARDIS’ thing is bigger on the inside?” she asked, looking at him.

“Yeah,” the Doctor replied, throwing his large brown coat on the coat rack.

It turns out that the little blue box, the TARDIS, was not only rather large on the inside - it was huge. Claire stood in a circular room with bronze-coloured walls and abstract pillars supporting the distant ceiling. There was a small ramp which led up to the centre of the room, in which resided a single column that shed an eerie pale blue light on her. The column was surrounded by a large circular console which was covered in an assortment of random knobs and buttons and other strange miscellanea, including a bicycle pump, a bell, and a hammer.

“Well, it’s not the strangest thing I’ve seen today,” Claire said, smiling and looking at the Doctor. He smiled back.

"That's not the reaction I usually get, but all right,” he said, walking to stand next to her.

“Well, come on, we better go on and destroy those Casvinnians, then!” Claire said, excitement radiating from her cheeks.

“We can’t just go up there without some sort of protection. The TARDIS shields can’t protect us entirely, so we’ll need something that counteracts with the Casvinnians’ guns...like, THIS!” The Doctor said, running around the console room and finally rummaging through a little chest until he pulled out two large slabs of aluminium.

“How’d those fit in there?” Claire asked, standing by the Doctor.

“It’s bigger on the inside, of course!” he replied, stating it as though it were obvious.

“Okay, so how are two sheets of aluminium going to protect us from robot guns?” she replied, crossing her arms.

“Well, aluminium is a member of the boron group of chemical elements,”

“Okay...”

“And Casvinnian ammo is made up of the chemical Derxon -”

“The chemical what?!” Claire asked.

“Oh yeah. Human, my bad. Derxon is a highly acidic chemical from a different galaxy, and the only thing resistant to it is aluminium, which is nonexistent in that particular galaxy,” the Doctor explained, standing up and handing Claire one of the sheets.

“Okay, so you’re telling me that the only thing keeping us safe from killer robots from outer space is two flimsy little sheets of aluminium?” she replied, taking the sheet he offered.

“Yup!” the Doctor said pleasantly, putting his sheet down and running to the console, where he began pressing buttons and twisting knobs. “You might want to hang on to something,” he said, before pulling a lever.

Claire fell over as a rumbling noise built up in the TARDIS and it began shaking violently. The grating noise, like keys over piano wire, was growing louder and louder, until it was pounding in Claire’s head and she was surprised the ceiling wasn’t crashing down around them and -

It was over. Claire was frozen on the floor, while the Doctor, still standing at the console, was laughing. “Wasn’t that fun? Claire?” he asked, turning around and finding her petrified on the floor.

He helped her to her feet; she was pale and shaking, and clutched him tightly for support.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah...” she replied, looking quite green in the face.

Casvinnia stood at the large window, looking down on the pathetic city beneath her. These human-things were so pathetic. She couldn’t understand why the Doctor loved them so much; they were so weak.

Suddenly, an alarm went off. Casvinnia hurried over to the monitor on the wall. It showed a complete and detailed map of the inner workings of her ship, and in one of the lower levels...

“The Doctor is here,” she stated to her followers. “FIND HIM! DESTROY HIM!” Her mouth-bar glowed a violent red colour.

Her guards quickly went to dispatch of the Doctor, while Casvinnia looked out over the dying city.

　

The Doctor went to the door of the TARDIS with his sheet of aluminium and cautiously poked his head out.

“Okay, come on, Claire!” he said. She grabbed her sheet of aluminium and followed him.

“So if you don’t have any guns, how are you gunna destroy the Casvinnians?” she asked. They raised their sheets of aluminium and crouched along the corridor, heading towards the strange lift at the end of the hall.

“With technology, but we might not have to destroy them,” the Doctor replied, using his sonic screwdriver on the lift controls. The doors slid open and Claire and the Doctor slipped inside. He used his sonic again on the controls and they began flying up.

“What do you mean?” she asked of him.

“This chip, once I insert it in the main computer board, will destroy this ship within one minute, and once the mothership goes down, they all go down,” the Doctor explained, showing Claire a small chip before slipping it back in his pocket.

“But that means we only have one minute to escape before this thing explodes,” Claire said. The Doctor met her gaze with sad eyes.

“I know.”

Finally, after several minutes of lift travel, the doors opened at the main control room. Claire and the Doctor already had their makeshift shields in place, which was very fortunate, because the second the lift doors opened, the Casvinnians fired.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” Casvinnia said after a moment of relentless shooting. Claire and the Doctor cautiously peeked over their aluminium shields and straightened up once they saw the danger had passed.

Casvinnia’s mouth-bar was red and if she had a proper human face, she would have been wearing the ugliest glare. “So, Doctor, you thought you could hide in this pathetic dump the humans call a city?” she said mockingly.

“Casvinnia, give it up. You can’t win. Just go back to your home planet and leave these people in peace,” the Doctor said, scowling at her.

“Of course I can win! I’ve beaten you plenty of times. What makes you think this time will be any different?” she spat in reply.

“Just a hunch, I guess,” he replied, while secretly slipping Claire the small chip; the chip that would destroy the Casvinnian fleet. Claire looked around and saw something resembling a large computer on the wall next to a door; the very door they had taken one of their own to be exterminated. She squinted and saw something like a small slot in the computer, perhaps where the chip would go?

“Please, Casvinnia. I’m giving you a chance here. Go back to your home planet and leave Earth alone,” the Doctor pleaded.

“Never!” she shouted.

The Doctor sighed. “Then I am so, so sorry. Really, I am,” he said, his eyes full of sadness.

“Enough of this! Take him to the eradication room!” Casvinnia ordered. Her followers moved forward ominously, and, winking at her, the Doctor pushed Claire to them.

She was quite a good actress, screaming as the Casvinnians began dragging her to the “eradication room.” The Doctor met her gaze, and she winked before begging to be saved.

“HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! DOCTOR!” she screamed.

“I always knew you were a coward,” Casvinnia said, walking towards the Doctor.

The Casvinnians dragging Claire had reached the door to the eradication room, just as Casvinnia reached the Doctor. She threw his sheet of aluminium across the floor and picked the Doctor up by his collar, while Claire broke free of the Casvinnians and shoved the chip into the slot in the computer.

An alarm began to sound, and the ship began to shake. Casvinnia turned around and dropped the Doctor. “What is going on?!” she yelled at her followers, before shoving them all into the eradication room. Meanwhile, Claire ran around her, picked up the Doctor’s makeshift shield from the floor, and ran into the lift.

“DOCTOR!!!” Casvinnia screamed, but the Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the controls and the doors slid shut.

“Forty-five seconds, Doctor!” Claire said as he fiddled with the controls.

Casvinnia smashed on the door, leaving a large dent.

“Allons-y!” the Doctor said, grinning from ear to ear at Claire.

“What are you -” Claire started, but then stopped as the lift dropped, zooming down at least ten times faster than it had gone up before.

After a moment, they reached the bottom floor with a BOOM.

“How much time we got left?” the Doctor asked of Claire, who was looking at her watch.

“Fifteen seconds,” she replied, looking up at him nervously.

“Well then, there’s no time to waste!” he said, giving her a smile as the lift doors opened. Claire grinned back, and then ran.

The Doctor and Claire ran down the corridor, their heads tucked down behind the aluminium sheet to protect themselves from the blasts of the Casvinnian’s guns. They reached the TARDIS, and the Doctor whipped out a key and unlocked the door.

“Five seconds, Doctor!” Claire yelled as she ran in. “We’ll never make it out of here in time!”

“Says who?” the Doctor replied cheekily, running to the controls and pressing a couple buttons.

“DOCTOR!” Claire screamed as the floor began rumbling.

“HANG ON!” he yelled as the grating noise began building up in the TARDIS. Claire grabbed on to a railing and shut her eyes tight.

The TARDIS shook intensely, even more violent than before, and it dematerialized just as the explosion reached the corridor they were in.

As the rumbling died down and the shaking stopped, Claire cautiously opened her eyes. The TARDIS was still intact, untouched by any sort of explosion.

“Are you gunna stay in there all day?” the Doctor asked. Claire turned around and saw him at the door, holding it open for her. She made her way hesitantly out of the TARDIS and saw that she was back in her bedroom. She looked back at the little blue box; it was still perfect, pristine.

“We made it!” she gasped, unable to believe.

“Oh ye of little faith,” the Doctor said, closing the door behind himself and pointing out the window. “Look,” he said.

Claire looked at him in confusion for a second, then walked over to her bedroom window and looked at the sky.

What was once Casvinnian ships were now strange explosions in the sky, slowly blasting away in a slow dance, all contained in a large, electric blue bubble. Claire gaped as the ships, every single one, imploded in on themselves.

“You did it,” she said in disbelief. “You saved London.”

“No, Claire,” the Doctor replied. She turned around and looked at him. He smiled at her. “You did.”

　

Some time later, Claire finally made her tea, for two now, and she and the Doctor sat on her sitting room sofa, watching the news. Hardcore partying was on every street, there were eyewitness accounts of the explosion, and overall, immense damage was done to the city, with the death toll in the thousands. Claire clicked the television off and turned to the Doctor.

“Okay, we saved the day. Now it’s time for you to do some explaining,” she said.

The Doctor smiled. “Explain what?”

“What were those Casvinnian-things? How did that chip destroy every single ship?” she asked.

“The Casvinnians were Casvinnia,” the Doctor replied.

“So they were clones?”

“Yes, but Casvinnia considered them her children.”

The Doctor let Claire absorb the information for a minute, before carrying on with his explanation.

“And that chip contained a powerful computer virus which triggered the ship’s self-destruct mechanism.”

“So they were killed by a computer virus?” Claire asked. The Doctor laughed.

“Yep!” he replied. Claire smiled at him.

“So what now, Doctor?” she asked, setting her tea down on the coffee table.

“Well, you know me, just gunna bop around the universe for a bit,” he joked, setting his tea down as well. Claire looked at her feet.

“Right, well, be careful,” she said, looking back up at the Doctor, her wide green eyes full of sincere concern. They both stood at the same time and walked back to her bedroom. The Doctor stepped into the TARDIS, stopping to look back at Claire. She smiled sadly at him, and he sighed.

“You be careful, too,” he said, walking back and giving her a hug. She hugged him back, a single tear rolling down her cheek before disappearing into the Doctor’s coat.

They pulled apart, and the Doctor smiled at her before walking into the TARDIS and closing the door. The light on the roof began to flash, and the grating noise built up to reverberate through Claire’s flat as the blue box began to disappear. Eventually, it disappeared entirely, leaving a large square dent in her carpet. Claire leaned against her doorway, staring at the dent for a second, then walked out.

She stopped in her hallway, and ran back into her bedroom. Sure enough, the TARDIS was reappearing. She smiled.

It reappeared fully, and the door opened as the Doctor stuck his head out.

“Get in,” he said, grinning at Claire. She laughed, then ran inside. The door swung shut behind her.

The sound of the TARDIS began to fade away as it disappeared from Claire’s empty flat.