AURORA STAYED TRUE TO HER WORD. She wouldn't let the Doctor die, no matter what she'd have to do to prevent his inevitable death. And... She did something. Aurora Barnes fought to save the Doctor, and she succeeded. Which could be a good thing, in theory.
If, you know, Winston Churchill wasn't having his blood pressure checked by his Silurian male nurse.
"Not too many late nights in Gaul, I hope," Malokeh asks him.
"Just the one," he answers, distracted by his newspaper. His romans around him are fanning him with feathers. "I had an argument with Cleopatra. Dreadful woman. Excellent dancer."
He hums. "I can tell from your blood pressure."
Churchill turns to the clock with a frown. "What time do you have, doctor?"
"Two minutes past five, Caesar." Something went really wrong indeed.
"It's always two minutes past five," he remarks. "Day or night, it's always two minutes past five in the afternoon. Why is that?"
Malokeh has no idea where he's getting at. "Because that is the time, Caesar."
"And the date. It's always the twenty second of April. Does it not bother you?"
Malokeh frowns, still unbelievably confused. "The date and the time have always been the same, Caesar. Why should it start bothering me now?"
Churchill takes a deep breath and puts his hands on the table, knowing that only one person in the current known universe would be able to understand him and give him the hint of an answer. "I want to see the Soothsayer. Where is he?"
Malokeh sighs, as if this was a recurring occurrence. "In the Tower, where you threw him the last time."
"Get him."
The Romans are quick to get him. After all, Winston Churchill is their Caesar. One could say something about Aurora really messing up – big time – but the point should have come across by now.
A bedraggled figure in toga and shackles is brought in.
"Leave us," Churchill orders his guards, not looking up from his newspaper. Once they all leave, he starts speaking, allowing himself to look as curious as he truly was. "'Tick tock goes the clock', as the old song says. But they don't, do they? The clocks never tick. Something has happened to time. That's what you say. What you never stop saying. 'All of history is happening at once,'" he repeats. "But what does that mean? What happened? Explain to me in terms that I can understand what happened to time."
The Doctor slowly rises his head to look at Churchill. A slight smirk paints his lips. "A woman."
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WAY BEFORE ALL OF THAT HAPPENED, THE DOCTOR DID TRY TO RESPECT HIS PROMISE. However he could. He knew that time and space would collide and implode – that's his most likely scenario, and, scarily enough, also his most manageable one – but he had to try for her. At least try.
