The Defender of Time

Thirty

The air was far from fresh, but she drew it in and let it fill her chest like it was her first breath in ages. It smelled like 1893-- like childhood, in more ways than one, but it wasn't London.

Alessia made a full turn to look around her, and her dress-- green with a small bustle (she'd never been old enough for a bustle before) and a crushed velvet bodice-- lapped around her ankles. "Where are we?" She asked. "This isn't London, Dad."

"No," said her father, taking a big step over the threshold. "I suppose it's not." He had a suitcase in each hand, and he held the smaller of the two toward Alessia. "Yorkshire, I think. Still nice."

She took the suitcase from him in the hand that wasn't already holding Oliver's basket and frowned. "I can't stay with Madame Vastra if we're in Yorkshire. And I can't--"

"Let's just walk around for a bit. I'll ring Vastra to get us in a bit." The Doctor cut Alessia off quickly and grabbed her hand. "Where's your mother?"

"Here." Clara swung out of the TARDIS, holding tight onto the doorjamb. "Why can't we just take the TARDIS? It'll be much faster."

The Doctor sighed. "I'm not as spot on as I used to be. Plus, it's a nice trip. It'll serve us well to take the long way 'round every once in a while."

Before Alessia could argue that that was the least true statement she'd ever heard her father say, there was an ear-piercing scream from down the road. The family hardly had to share a look before they were pounding down the road toward the trouble. Alessia fell to the back, with a suitcase half her side banging against her knees, and by the time she reached the canal where her parents had stopped, a crowd had gathered around the screamer; there was a body in the water, bright red, and a man yelling by the side of the road. "It's another one!" He wailed. "Another victim! Why won't any of you listen?"

Alessia perked up and turned in his direction. "We'll listen," she said. The man looked down at him and furrowed his eyebrows, his mouth still slightly open.

The Doctor pushed Alessia out of the way and Clara set her hands on her shoulders protectively. "She's very excitable," he chuckled. "But she's right. We will."

"Alright. Then walk with me." It was quite apparent that there hadn't been much attention paid to the man by how quickly he agreed.

Clara smiled at him. "One moment. Stay here."

She steered Alessia back to the TARDIS by her shoulders and the Doctor chased after them. "You sit here," he said. "I'll call Vastra to pick you up, and your mum and I will meet you in London, alright?"

"What?" Asked Alessia. Her mother pushed her down onto the nearest doorstep and kissed the top of her head. "Why don't I get to come?"

"That was a dead body in the canal, sweetheart," said her mother warningly. "Your father and I can handle it. We don't want to put you in danger."

Alessia opened her mouth to protest, but her father kneeled in front of her, smiling kindly. "We know you could handle it too, but you're too precious to get hurt. Plus..." he looked both ways before leaning in closer. "It's very important that you keep an eye on London for us. And make sure you blend in. Do you think you could still speak like you live here?"

There was a brief flash of a memory of Amy teaching Alessia conjunctions, and she played it backwards like pressing reverse on a DVR. "Of course," she smirked. Her voice went up an octave and her words rounded themselves out. "How long will you be gone?"

"Not too long," said Clara, kneeling down next to the Doctor. "Let's say..."

"Two weeks. Maximum." Her father took her right hand, and her mother her left. "If we're not home or we haven't reached out in two weeks, then I want you to lead Vastra and Jenny here to save us. Can you do that?"