New Girl In The Box (Ep1)

Chapter 2: The Girl In The Blue Coat

As it was, it was almost five minutes before something did happen, and by then Clara's attention had wandered so that she was examining the tatty umbrella that sheltered their table from the threat of rain. She doubted very much that it would keep them dry should the clouds open. It was a holey as Swiss cheese.

There was movement in the corner of Clara's eye and her gaze sprang to it almost instantly. She was half expecting someone, or something, as it often turned out, to spring out and attack them. Too much time with the Doctor, she thought with a mental sigh.

It was a girl, looking to be in her teens, wearing a pretty blue trench-coat over jeans and a grey shirt. She carried a canvas rucksack over one shoulder and walked with her head down, moving fast, her boots tapping quickly but quietly along the path. Brown hair hung to her shoulders, tucked back behind her ears to keep it out of the way. Her face was pale and smudged with something grey, like ash, along her right eyebrow. She glanced up briefly, scanning her surroundings quickly before lowering her eyes to the ground once more. Her gaze flickered briefly to the Doctor and Clara, but she didn't meet their eyes.

She walked past alleyway and one of the men sprang out, smothering her mouth with one hand while his other arm wrapped round her neck. She kicked and struggled, trying to scream as the man hauled her backwards, into the shadows of the alley. There was a pause in her struggles, and suddenly she stopped squirming and became very, very still, limp in the man's grip. Clara thought she'd passed out until she saw her eyes - they were bright, wide, on full alert.

The man paused for a second, surprised, and that second was all the time the girl needed. She slammed the heel of her boot down on the man's toes and bit his hand, making him curse. His grip on her loosened and she tore free, spinning around to face him. Even as he looked up her fist crashed into his jaw, sending him to the ground. His companion rushed forward, brandishing a crowbar, which he swung in a mighty downwards arc at the girl's head. She didn't have time to move out of the way. Instead she ducked her head and lifted her arms, holding them close together as a shield above her.

The crowbar came down across her forearms with a mighty thwack, the impact forcing a strangled cry from the girl. A second, then she was moving again, ducking under the man's arm and stepping in close. She caught his arm as it came at her and twisted it hard, and there was a pop as his shoulder dislocated.

He screamed and dropped, and the girl brought her knee up to meet his chin on the way down. His head rocked back and he fell, out cold.

The girl was breathing hard. Her knuckles were bloody and she was holding her arms in such a way that looked like she would rather not use them. Pain and fear were etched clearly across her face. Her eyes were wide and scared.

"Now you see, Clara, there is a girl who knows how to take care of herself!" The Doctor chuckled to himself, apparently quite pleased. Clara was wide-eyed, her mouth half open in shock.

"Doctor, she was attacked! We should help her!" Clara moved to get out of her seat, but the Doctor grabbed her arm and held her still.

"No, wait. We shouldn't interfere if we don't have to."

"What? Is this a 'don't meddle with history' thing?"

The Doctor didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow and kept his firm grip on her wrist. Clara, despite her instinct to leap out and rush to the girl's aid, sat back down in her seat, trusting the Doctor's judgement. But only just.

The first man, the one the girl had punched in the jaw, got to his feet behind her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and she yelped and twisted away from him. She lost her balance, tripped over her own feet and her back slammed into the alley wall. Her head hit the brick and she gave a groan of pain. The man swung a punch at her and she quickly slid to the ground, the punch sailing over her head. It was hard to tell if she'd done it on purpose, or if her knees had simply buckled at the right time. His knuckles popped as his fist hit the wall. The man growled and kicked viciously, the toe of his shoe striking the girl hard in the chest. She fell back against the wall, coughing, clutching at her chest. Clara winced. The blow had looked pretty nasty. The Doctor held his grip on her wrist.

The man reached down and dragged the girl to her feet, where she swayed for a second, then tipped forwards, seemingly in a faint. The man reached out to stop her from falling into him, and she took a step and slammed a rip into his ribcage, balanced again. He doubled over while she backed away, moving in a shuffle, her feet never leaving the ground.

She suddenly gasped and folded her arms over her lower stomach, her face twisting in pain.

"No, no, not now!" she hissed under her breath.

The man straightened and threw another punch at her, but she ducked it - barely. Her balance and precision seemed suddenly gone, her lightning finesse dampened. The man feinted a kick, which she went to dodge, realising the ruse too late to balance herself against the leg that swung into her ankles. She fell, hitting the ground back-first.

Winded and stunned, she struggled to roll over, to get to her feet and fight back. The man laughed at her struggles and kicked her, slamming his foot into her chest, then her head. She didn't resist as he lifted her up and carried her into the alley and out of sight. His unconscious comrade hadn't stirred.