Lost In Time: A Doctor Who Fanfiction

Chapter 19 - World War Three, Part 2

"Say that again," the Doctor requested, placing Rose's phone on speaker and placing it in the middle of the table. 

"It's asking for the password," Mickey said after a minute. Hints of the man he would become peeking through, he'd agreed to help while the Doctor was trapped in the Cabinet Room and was using his laptop to access the UNIT database.

"Buffalo, two f's, one l," the Doctor rattled off, crossing his arms and leaning against the table.

"So, what's that website?" Jackie asked curiously.

"All the secret information known to man," Mickey explained, the sound of keys tapping echoing over the phone. "See, they've known about aliens for years, they've just kept us in the dark."

The Doctor scoffed. "You were born in the dark."

Lyssa rolled her eyes, giving him a gentle whack across the shoulder in reproof as Rose scolded him. He rubbed his shoulder as if wounded, and she just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. He'd deserved it, and he knew it.

"Thank you," Mickey said smugly. "Password again."

"Just repeat it, every time," the Doctor instructed. He turned back to the group. "Bit of a security risk, that, having it be the same password for everything, but I can't deny it's comin' in handy today." He paused and began to pace the room in thought. "But Big Ben, though. Why'd the Slitheen hit that?"

"You said to gather the experts, to kill them," Harriet offered timidly.

The Doctor shook his head dismissively. "That lot would've gathered for a weather balloon,  you don't need to crash land in the middle of London."

Lyssa frowned. While some of them would, yes, it would take something big to draw out the more powerful ones behind the scenes  - such as a big spaceship crashing into Big Ben. A spectacle. First alien contact.

Well. First public alien contact, considering the Doctor had been visiting the Earth for centuries. It would also get everyone riled up. Most people don't think well in a state of high emotions, and that was just what the Slitheen were creating. Panic.

She started to tell them that, only to wince when all that came out was a croak as her throat protested. She grimaced, rubbing the tender skin in a futile effort to ease the pain and trying to suppress the urge to cough. She glanced up, cheeks burning in embarrassment as the Doctor came over.

"Lyssa?" the Doctor checked, touching her elbow lightly with a hand. She forced a smile and gave him a thumbs-up. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly skeptical of her brilliant acting. "You don't sound too good. Want me to patch you up?" He raised a hand and gestured towards her throat.

"What on earth is he talking about?" Harriet murmured to Rose. "The bruises on that poor girl's neck will take at least a week to fully heal, if not longer. There's nothing he can do."

"It's the Doctor," Rose whispered back uncertainly. "He's got a way to heal her somehow, but it's not good for him, so she almost never lets him do it."

Lyssa flicked her eyes back to the Doctor. He still had his hand out, waiting patiently for her. She bit her lip, thinking it through. On the one hand, if she could talk, then she could help defeat the Slitheen. And it would be nice to not be in constant pain. But on the other hand, they would figure it out in the end anyway - and every time the Doctor used his regeneration energy, it used up part of his life span. 

She shook her head reluctantly. She waved her hands in the air vaguely struggling to communicate before settling on a weak thumbs-up, hoping to get the message across that she'd be all right.