Soul's Shadow (Doctor Who - SI)

Part V (III)

There was no morning in the TARDIS, but my body knew when it had enough rest. I snuggled myself a little more into the warm blankets, enjoying how comfy the bed was. Only then did I notice that I was alone and it dampened my mood for a truly inappropriate amount.

He's just using you for his drums, I reminded myself.

We weren't friends. We didn't even like each other that much. Which was a plain fact. There were things that connected us on some level, that much was true. And maybe there was nothing wrong about using each other for comfort.

I still shouldn't get used to it. The Master would toss me away without even thinking about it, as soon as he'd get bored, or found another solution to his drumming problem.

Then again did it appear as if my existence had some value, after all. It was good to know that I was of more use alive, than dead. Even though none of us had a clue why that was the case.

I groaned into the pillow, already too overwhelmed by too many thoughts for one morning (even when it wasn't morning at all). There was a slight rustling at the movement and I felt something on my forehead. Turning on my back I reached up, finding... wait, was that...?

I tugged the post-it away from my head, frowning at the paper. Thanks to my bad vision I had to hold it so close, my nose almost touched the writing. The letters were sharp, almost elegant.

Touch anything in here and you're dead! >:(

For some seconds I stared at the post-it. Had the guy really nothing better to do than sticking this thing to me while I slept?! It irritated and amused me equally. In the end I crumpled the note up and tossed it on the floor. Should he deal with the garbage himself.

I even contemplated moving some things around. Not much, just a tiny little bit. Maybe not even enough to be really noticeable. Or maybe it would be. My fingers itched, the mischievous part of me urging to have this little, silly satisfaction.

But I didn't.

Whatever it was the both of us shared, was too fragile to break with such a dumb action.

Instead I carefully closed the door behind me and – to my surprise – found my own door on the opposite wall. The TARDIS must have put it there so I would easily find it. That made me smile fondly. It was so weird to have a ship liking me, and at the same time it was kind of cute.

In my room I opened the wardrobe for the first time, finding it filled with things I liked. There were black jeans and I almost squealed when I found a hooded zipper, entirely made out of red plaid. (Plaid is awesome, seriously!)

A quick shower and some brushed teeth later I was, again, in the corridors. This time the Master's door was gone and in its place was a white one with a sign on it, saying "kitchen". I couldn't recall if that sign had been there the last time, or maybe it was another door, or another kitchen.

It didn't matter that much, honestly. The inside looked like I remembered and all I cared about was to get some coffee into me. So it happened that I was still a little groggy from sleep, clutching a steaming mug that was yet too hot to drink from, when I entered the console room.

No one was here.

For a moment it surprised me. Somehow I had awaited someone to be here, but then I realized what a stupid idea that was. This ship was enormous and those two certainly weren't travelling day-in and day-out.

Curiously I wandered around the control table, observing all the different buttons, wires, levers and whatnot. All the small and big things that might or might not have some elaborate function. Sip by sip the cup got emptied and at the same pace my head got confused. How could one operate such a machine? And had the Master told the truth about it? Was she able to travel through time?