Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Runaway Bride

"What the hell is this place?" the bride demands.

I remain frozen in place, gaping at her all the way from her flaming orange hair to the ripples of her silky skirts. I am certain I must have missed something but then I look to the Doctor and see his equally dumbfounded expression. "You— You can't do that," he finally stammers, "I wasn't— We're in flight, that is physically impossible! How did—"

She takes a menacing step forwards, eyes ablaze. "Tell me where I am. I demand you tell me, right now, where am I?"

He sends a glance my way but all I can do is shrug. "Inside the Tardis."

"The what?"

"The Tardis."

"What?"

"The Tardis."

"The what?"

"It's called the Tardis," he states one last time. In a beat, the two of us rush back to the console but nothing seems to be wrong — no malfunctions, no damage, nothing.

She follows our movements with a suspicion that makes me all the nore anxious. Once more, she roars, "That's not even a proper word! You're just saying things."

Yanking him over to the opposite side, ducking behind the pistons, I hiss, "What did you do?"

His eyes grow as wide as saucers. "What did I do? What did you do? What's going on?"

"Well, I don't bloody know, you were the one pushing buttons. Was it the supernova?"

A quick glance back at the various contraptions in front of us is enough to convince him. "Can't be, we're not even in the same galaxy anymore." Then, sending a pointed look to the hand still clutching the collar of his pinstripe suit — which I hurriedly drop — he rushes back to the stranger. "How did you get in here?"

She scoffs, still rooted to the spot. "Well, obviously, when you kidnapped me. Who was it? Who's paying you? Was it Nerys?" The thought seems to spark another realisation and she scrunches her face up into a disgusted pout. "Oh my God, she's finally got me back. This has got 'Nerys' written all over it."

"Who the hell is Nerys?"

"Your best friend!"

Itching at the back of his neck, cogs turning, he pauses. "Wait a minute. What are you dressed like that for?"

The woman sends a sweeping gesture towards the door and rather calmly states, "I'm going ten-pin bowling." Her angry glower soon returns. "Why do you think, Dumbo? I was halfway up the aisle! I've waited all my life for this. I was just seconds away, and then you— I don't know, you drug me or something."

"Gods, no. Far too much paperwork."

It doesn't take long to realise that it was a mistake to say anything. She immediately turns on me and jabs an accusatory finger in my direction. "Oh, that's a bloody confession right there, that is! I'm having the police on you! Me and my husband — as soon as he is my husband — we're gonna sue the living backsides off you."

"For Gods' sake!"

The Doctor remains silent, all of his focus on a dial akin to a tiny ship's wheel, twisting it round and round, waiting for the green lights on the console to change. Movement catches his attention and he shouts out, "No! Wait a minute!"

I am quick to follow his lead at the sight of her approaching the doors. My clumsy rush towards her is too late, she already has the doors open, right onto a nebula. "Godsdamnit."

He is quick to join her and his hands find his pockets again. "You're in space — outer space. This is my... spaceship. It's called the Tardis."

A moment passes. She stares out at the clouds of pink and gold gas, arms limp at her sides, shoulders straining in her efforts to take in air. Confusion dawns on her and their movements halt. When she speaks, all anger fades and her voice is left strangely quiet, "How am I breathing?"