The Girl of Colours (Book TWO)

Morphined Siren

Why were we on a pirate ship? I mean, I was barely out of the hospital bed, and we were stuck here, Amy and Rory with us. They were really nice people, and I did trust them, but a great part of me had a pang for the last TARDIS family, my dad, Rose, Mickey, Uncle Jack and I. Missed it when everything was so simply. "Yo ho ho! Or does nobody actually say that?" Dad asked as we were caught.

And promptly dragged off to the captain's cabin, while I still had to use a walking stick for the fact I had stitches across my belly and to some degree, uh, a little lower. "Our sensors picked you up. Ship in distress. All yellow and grey according to my daughter." Yeah... Could have just been the morphine...

"Sensors?"

"Yes. Okay, problem word." Dad kept trying, and his fun energy was really tiring when you were on some very powerful painkillers. I'd be very surprised if I made it through this without having a giggle fit. "Seventeenth century. My ship automatically, er, noticed-ish that your ship was having some bother."

The Captain gave us a dubious look. Heh, Dooobiooousss. That's a funny word. "That big blue crate?"

"That is more magic, Captain Avery." Some guy with dreads told him. "They're spirits. How else would they have found their way below decks?" I may be pale, but I wasn't dead.

Dad flapped out a little, all hand gestures. "Well, er, I want to say multidimensional engineering, but since you had a problem with sensors, I won't go there. Look, I'm the Doctor, my daughter Calliope. This is Amy, Rory. We're sailors, same as you. Ooo ar. Except for the gun thing. And the beardiness. Callie-"

I sighed, shaking my head. "No, no, beard. All scratch, River won't like it." River liked dad, liked him a lot, I got here through that. OK, no more morphine, this was getting ridiculous.

"You're stowaways. Only explanation." The Captain snapped. "Eight days, we've been stranded here, becalmed. You must have stowed away before we sailed."

"Now what do we do with 'em?"

He gave a bitter smile. "Oh, I think they deserve our hospitality."

Which meant that we were being made to walk the plank, dad first, all of them laughing. "I suppose that laughing like that is in the job description. Can you do the laugh? Check. Grab yourself a parrot. Welcome aboard."

The Captain shook his head. "Stocks are low. Only one barrel of water remains. We don't need three more empty bellies to fill. Take the doxies below to the galley. Set them to work. They won't need much feeding."

"Rory? A little help?"

"Dad, they're taking my walking stick, I will end up ripping the stitches."

Rory was being held by one of the burlier sailors. "Yeah. Hey, listen, right? She's not a doxy."

Amy rolled her eyes as we were then dragged down. "I didn't mean just tell him off. Thanks anyway. Doctor! Your daughter needs some help!"

"Amelia, there isn't much that I can do from my current position."

Then we were down in the hold, and they went back up. "Well, that went well. Look in the chests, there should be something." We both did so, and I paused, seeing what looked like my eyeliner in my palm, which wouldn't rub off. "Weird... Amy, find anything, Petal?"

"Petal?" She laughed, getting out two cutlasses. "You sound like my gran, how old are you?"

"I will be 60 in just over a month, why?"

And now Amy was staring at me. "60? You're, you're 60 years old? You look late 20's!"

I just shrugged, my hand on my stitches. "I started this regeneration looking 17, I'm aging faster. I also have a 12 year old daughter called Sky. Time Lord, Amy, we're different from the rest."