The Unexpected Hero

Kitchen Nudity

What had I done? Kicking the Master out like that? Who did I think I was, did I think I was important enough that I was the one with the power in our relationship? Could you even call what we had a relationship? I didn't know.

No matter how I felt about this, I couldn't just stop functioning. I had things to do in my life. I couldn't afford a break-down, not when the rest of society already thought I was a failure just because I lost my job.

Maybe they were right. But that wasn't going to stop me getting on and living my life.

"Enough moping, you have cleaning to do," I said to myself, much as I always had. I liked to think that rather than making me mental, it just made me more interesting.

"Tell that to all your ex-boyfriends," spoke aloud that cruel voice that dwelled deep within, where no one dared enter.

My habit of talking to myself, sometimes even extending so far as to argue with myself, had cost me more than my fair share of boyfriends. They had all heard the rumours of my madness, thought they'd check it out for themselves. They believed that I truly was mad, the uneducated beasts!

I sighed, hanging my head as I walked down the hallway to the kitchen so I could grab all the cleaning products I needed. Men were pigs. Who needed them, anyway?

I sung along to the song playing on the radio that I actually happened to know for once (a rarity) quite loudly, trying to convince myself that I didn't care that the Master had left, and probably wasn't coming back. It didn't matter, just another male chauvinist who didn't appreciate my independence. I felt like Katharina in "Taming of the Shrew," where all the men left her to herself because they were terrified of her, too used to meek and submissive women who obeyed their every whim. Except for Petruchio. Shame on me for believing for one moment that the Master might be my Petruchio, when he was clearly just another Baptista in disguise. Excuse the incest implications, it wasn't meant that way. But whatever.

I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, trying to stop my hands from shaking. They'd alway been an indicator of trouble in my romantic life, or an indicator of strong feelings for the someone that I was with or interested in. Today they were shaking particularly badly.

A loud shattering of the glass in the kitchen drew my attention from my self-absorbed thoughts. A hobby I tried not to indulge in anymore, but I was human after all, and resisting temptation was remarkably difficult.

So I wandered off to investigate, grabbing a candlestick on the way, feeling like a blonde in a horror movie despite the distinct brown shade of my hair. Perhaps it was just an accident, but I highly doubted it, considering the strange events that had been transpiring around me lately.

A strange man who looked familiar stood stark naked in the middle of my kitchen, clearly searching for something. A robber?

His eyes caught on me, and I quickly looked away, glad I hadn't seen anything that would have scarred me for life.

"It's good that you got the scars, and you leave. Cause you healed up," oh go away Ashanti, yes I like that song, but please don't distract me right now!

We stood for a moment of awkward silence filled with words unspoken, until suddenly I recognised his distinctive features as my childhood hero, the Doctor.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, confused. But that was normal for me.

"Hmmm?" he replied, eyebrows raised.

"What have you done with Lacey?!" I screeched worried for the safety of my best friend.

"Who?" he scratched at his hair in that strangely too-familiar way.

"You- never mind. Can you please at least put some clothes on?" I asked politely, trying to contain my inner panic.

"Can't go to church with my clothes on," he murmured sulkily.

"Well if you hadn't noticed, you're not in a church!" I snapped, losing it just a little. Just a little.

He didn't answer, so I sighed, told him to stay where he was. "Don't move an inch!" Were my precise words, I believe. Then I left and walked briskly up the stairs to see if the Master had left any clothes behind that might fit the Doctor. He didn't seem bothered by his nudity, but I was. It certainly wasn't everyday that I had a naked time lord come crashing through my kitchen window.

As I scrambled my way through the wardrobe, throwing clothes everywhere, I finally managed to find a pair of pants that I thought would fit. Not pausing to think I raced back down the stairs, brandishing my prize like a flag, somewhat proud of myself.

When I looked up at the bottom of the stairs, the Doctor was nowhere in sight though. Where could he have gone? I wandered around the house trying to find him, figuring he couldn't have gone far, but he was nowhere to be seen.

By the time I made it back to where I'd left the pants draped over a chair, though, they were gone and in their place a small note scribbled in an almost illegible font: "Thanks for the loan, will return. xx Doctor"

What had he gone and done now?