Helter Skelter (Penelope and 4)

Steven Harding sat in his office, enjoying a beautiful and wonderful afternoon. A light breeze blew through the office, carrying in scents of lilac and freshly cut grass. A small wafting of petrichor tied the scents together. The sky was clouded up. Another spring rain was headed their way.

As Steven took another deep breath, he felt something odd. A small twinge of pain in his mid-back. That's odd, he though. I never felt that one before. He started to feel his shirt front become moist and wet. He looked down. Staring him right in the face was a silvery blade covered in a deep, red liquid. Oh no, that's not good...

Within a few moments, he was laying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, spasming and convulsing. His desk lamp cord had caught his foot, coming crashing down and clattering into his metallic rubbish bin. His secretary came in to see what was the matter, only to be met by screams and hysterics. He was dead.

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On the other side of town, a familiar blue box sat idly by, doors open, revealing the unusually large interior. Immediately outside of the box sat the Doctor, cross-legged and intensively working on a small box device. He had his magnifying glasses wrapped around his head, matting down his wavy and poofy hair. His cravat hung untied around his neck, under his unbuttoned waistcoat.

In his hand he held his sonic screwdriver, buzzing and humming quietly while he worked. The device was emitting small puffs of smoke and fire as he fiddled with the insides. At long last, he took a moment to stop. He took off the glasses and started to massage his hands. He greeted the passerby's as they walked perpendicular to his TARDIS, never taking a moment to look inside.

Nice beautiful day. The kind of cloudless sunny weather that made a human (or Time Lord) glad to be alive. Flowers populated in little roomy boxes dotting the apartments created a lovely scented breeze. The dirt and grime of the city gently swept away by a warm, caring breeze. Bits of debris lazily scooted themselves against the modern day "earthern" floor. Penelope smiled broadly, the wild tangles of auburn hair blowing idly in the caressing breeze. The ear-to-ear-grin didn't dissipate until the hearse came by. The once warm wind kissing her skin turned to a bitter cold hiss of reality. Goosebumps prickled her now chilled body. Shivering she crossed her arms across her chest, cerulean blue orbs glancing at the procession of vehicles now passing her by, their king having gone onwards to the local cemetery.

"Such a sad day," a woman acknowledged, her head bobbing at the cars passing by. "Didn't think the poor fellow could die in such a way. Murder they said." The woman, who had been departing from the used book shop, now had her head titled toward her to whisper the juicy tidbit of gossip. "Heard the poor girl who found him was taken to the hospital for a heart attack." That grin showed all the deep set wrinkles lining the woman's once youthful face. Time had hit her hard leaving wispy white hair and yellowed teeth with a good number of liver spots to stamp down the lonely, harsh years.

"Whatever happened he's gone now," Penelope whispered. "The police, err bobbies, will be able to sort it out proper."

"If they could find the evidence," the woman remarked with a snort. "Heard it was completely clean. There was no evidence at all. Most likely this will become some tabloid habloo; turn the thing into a mystery to defy the ages. I reckon they will even have anniversaries about it. Did in my time. Now, if you will excuse me-" The shrewd eyes of the older woman spotted the dolt sitting on the side walk. "You'll catch something afire messing with...whatever it is you got in your hands! I'm calling the police," she shouted even louder, causing several people walking by him to cringe visibly away.

"Hooligans," she hissed through her teeth. "Probably a drug dealer serving up fresh drugs to the locals!" She had stopped paying attention to the woman at that time, her gaze fixated on the blue box. "You don't want to go near him honey...not unless you're one of those American dealers yourself?" The wrinkles that formed from that sneer almost caused her face to disappear.

"Oh, no," she muttered completely distracted. "I figure he's probably just homeless...I'm going to see if I can help him or not."

"I wouldn't," the woman cried out as Penelope disengaged. "The cops will be here any minute," the woman hollered louder. Penelope rolled her eyes toward the heavens. You either turned rotten at old age, or you turned into a noisy cynical...The young woman sighed dispelling the tirade. Upon arrival at the man's feet, she stooped a little.

"Are you a Doctor?" A fuzzy eyebrow perked at the question, her eyes not mistaking the antique police box, nor the oddness of the man before her.

"That's a dangerous question to be asking in this day and age, isn't it?" He looked up at the face that was peering down at him. Her features were gentle and young, but accented boldly by a pair of sharp and piercing, but friendly and curious, eyes. "I am A Doctor. Degrees in medicine, physics, science, and cheese making. I am a published doctor, with articles and journals published all over the world. And I am THE Doctor, the definite article, you might say."

He stood up, brushed the dirt and debris off of his bum, and entered the TARDIS. There were some distant clanging and banging noises of metal on metal and metal on wood. After a while the Doctor emerged from the TARDIS once more, and with an embarrassingly large black smudge across his face. Presumably from where he had wiped the sweat off his brow. "Silly old cronies think I'm selling drugs to school kids. Have you heard of such a thing? Me selling drugs?"

He was walking around his work area, mumbling to himself. At the rate of which he presented the questions, it was almost difficult to distinguish the different between the hypothetical and the ones he actually demanded an answer from. He bent down and picked up the small scraps of wire and computer parts and tossed them into the recycling bin. He pulled a small white bag out of his pocket, took something from it, and popped it into his mouth. He turned around to face his new friend. "Besides I haven't even gotten your name yet. Jelly baby?"

He held out the bag to her, proudly displaying the varieties of orange, red, green, yellow, and purple candies covered in a layer of starch dust. He shook the bag a bit for her. "Try the blackcurrant ones, they're divine."

This version of the Doctor, if he was the Doctor, talked with such an educated clip it sort of blew her attention away from the procession of quick answers. It appeared, at some points in the conversation, that he was asking questions, but they were so quickly placed it was hard to get an answer in-between if he had even been looking for an answer. Then there was that bit about cheese making. He didn't appear to be a man with enough time to make cheese, and the thought of stooping over a table in the TARDIS tsking at his cheese making caused her to giggle. He never appeared to stay in one place too long either. Part way through the conversation he had entered the TARDIS, rummaged about with loud clanging, and had come out with a large smudge across the unique contours to his face.

"Besides I haven't even gotten your name yet. Jelly baby?" He shook the contents in the package and held it out to her. "Try the blackcurrant ones, they're divine."

Shrugging she took a yellow one out of habit (yellow was her favorite color) and looked over the candy. Her mother had warned her from taking from strangers, but that wasn't the main hesitation upon trying it. Jelly babies sounded normal, but the man came up with simplistic names for all sorts of strange things. After a small, careful smell at the starch covered candy, she popped it in her mouth and chewed. Well, if it was poison it was a good tasting poison. "Penelope," she told him mid-chew, her tongue brushing over white teeth to get rid of the residue. "Technically Rain Penelope, but I prefer to go by Penelope or Pen. It's whatever you prefer." Blue eyes looked over the bag of candies rather critically, still expecting some sort of alien side effect to take place. "Cheese making, eh? Didn't know you had a dairy farm in the TARDIS," she joked with a small smile. "What are you doing here?" Eyebrows creased together as she looked him over in confusion. "Especially in this time. Aren't you a little...out of place?"

He watched as he indulged herself in a yellow sweet, noshed on an orange one, and quickly returned the bag to his pocket. He took a small pocket handkerchief out and began to dab his forehead. He had begun to tie his cravat when she had mentioned the TARDIS by name...

"I wouldn't say that I actually have time to do cheesemaking on the TARDIS, but the mold room is definitely a nice addition to the old girl, you know. As for me being out of place, time is awfully relative. Never goes where you want it to go." He turned back to look inside at the console room, which was scattered with old parts and wire bits at the moment. She was his companion, but he felt more like hers. And she certainly didn't deserve to be in this state presently....

At that particular moment, not too far off in the distance, a scream was heard. The singular scream was soon accompanied by several more screams, and a visual stampede of people running away from something. The screams slowly turned into HELP! SOMEBODY FIND A DOCTOR! HELP! and within moments, the Doctor had ran into the TARDIS, put on his scarf and frock, and was had started to lock the door. He turned to Penelope, who hadn't noticed his absence into changing, and spoke. "It sounds an awful lot like someone's in trouble. I am going to need help, at least in case that crazy woman is there again. She'll trust an innocent face like you."

He smiled, and started off in that direction.

Penelope about broke her neck turning her head to see what the commotion was. Just down the street was a flock of panicked men and woman rushing out of a building. The call of a Doctor was not met without any interest. Most people seized in spot not sure whether dark curiosity should guide them forward or if they should flee as well. Most of the crowd dispersed, melding into small buildings to escape any nearby danger. The flock that had came out of the one building were rushing toward the local police station. If they were calling for a Doctor then they must be safe, just frightened. So distracted was she, the sound of the Doctor close behind her caused her to jump. An embarrassed smile crossed her lips. No good to show the Time Lord just how easily an alien could make a burger out of her.

"Yeah, of course I will go with you," she told him sarcastically, his spindly legs already propelling himself toward the destination. Innocent face indeed. One hand hovered over her stomach as it gargled for attention.The jelly baby was the first thing she'd eaten today. Hiding an inner frown she quickly ran to catch up to him, her own long legs easily catching up. A scarf set over his shoulders bellowed behind him as he kept a quick pace. It was ridiculously long, almost comically so.

"Anyone here a Doctor? Please, we need help!" A woman, secretary judging by the red claws meant to be fashionable fingernails complete with a tailored skirt and artfully done blouse. Honey blond hair was set up in what had been a perfect bun. Those claws kept tearing themselves into the straight mass of hair making it become disheveled. Mascara and eye liner down her cheeks in a perfect portray of mourning. "I think he's dead, oh my gosh PLEASE. Someone, anyone? HELP?" Someone was trying to reassure her, but she kept a panicked circle, her heels clacking as she veered in a quick, unsettled pace.

"A Doctor is present! He can help assist with any sort of medical emergency. Any information will be crucial in aiding whatever is going on. Has anyone called the bobbies?" Penelope ran her eyes around the small gathering crowd, many of the faces looking rather ashamed at their lack of useful reaction to the scene. Several pulled out their own devices to place a call, while others whispered amongst themselves.The man trying to reassure the panicked secretary gave her an aggravated sigh of despair, his finger tapping on the cellular device in hand as indication of the current call.

"If you need me, call for my name. I'm going to see what the local gossip is. Tay?" She didn't wait for an answer, simply walked over to the group of chittering old ladies to ask questions

The Doctor ran over to the commotion of the crowd, pushing aside pedestrians and stander-bys. "I'm a doctor, give this man some room! Space please!" The Doctor pushed his way into the office building where all the patrons seemed to be coming out of. The emergency services hadn't arrived yet, but the Doctor knew he only had a matter of minutes before they showed up.

He entered the office where the supposed dead body was. The office was decorated in a very classy style, with age and dignity. This office was not someone who was a low ranking official, but he wasn't exactly a CEO. The large oaken desk was cluttered with papers, small picture frames that housed various pictures of children, adults of all ages, and dogs, along with an outdated computer system that sat on the corner of the desk. On the opposite corner, a small ring of dust existed, where the brass lamp that was on the floor originally sat.

On the floor next to desk, sprawled out face down, was the man in question. Or rather corpse in question. He was dressed in a vintage grey Armani suit, comfortable but business-professional. The suit was clean, but beckoned that the man was cheap, since it was a vintage 1975 style. The Doctor examined the body as it lay, seeing that the body lay in a pool of it's own blood, which stained the unusually white carpet.

The Doctor took off his coat and scarf, laid them aside, and started getting a closer look at the body. A small puddle of spittle had formed on the floor under his head, suggesting that the body hadn't been dead that long. He grabbed the arm of the body and flipped it over. The coat and shirt front had been stained with blood, along with a small slit in both his coat and shirt. Perhaps from the murder weapon? The Doctor unbuttoned his shirt around the wound and let out a small most interesting...

For there, underneath the slit and blood, was a perfectly clean and flawless patch of skin, as if nothing had ever happened....

No one had anything useful to say. Most of the people on the street where from different sections of the city. Morbid curiosity had drawn them here, nothing else. The only person that appeared to have any useful information was the secretary. Unfortunately not only was she tied up with the man still trying to calm her, but the fragile state of her mental health would mean no direct answers to questions without hysterical notes. Had no one stayed in the building, she wondered? Perhaps a fire alarm had been pulled, she considered with a huff of frustration. The only thing she was getting was questions and local gossip. Nothing too useful, she noted with another little sigh. Discouraged by the seemingly useless endeavors she started walking to the building doors. Police sirens were wailing nearby, but the echo of their screams was far enough she could quickly scan the inside for any knowing witnesses.

"Ma'm you can't go in there! That's a crime scene! You'll contaminate the evidence!" The man standing beside the mumbling secretary, acknowledging the wail of dismay from someone in the crowd, started to move toward the door in a protective shuffle.

"I'm with the Doctor..." She blinked at the guy now hovering by the doors as a preventive, just in case anyone else decided it was a good idea to trespass.

"The police can speak with him when they get in there to look. He shouldn't of entered the building as it was." Noticing that Penelope hadn't stopped walking, he now stood over by the doors blocking them. When a woman gets hungry something snaps in them. The gurgle coming from her stomach seemed to cheer on the next move, which was to stride up to the man, look him dead in the eye, and elbowed him in the gut. Brown eyes popped open in surprise, a large grunt of pain mixed with expelled air, sounded. Wheezing he had himself slightly bent, tears springing to his eyes. Some people in the group, entertained, started protesting loudly. Not taking a moment to hesitate (humans loved to be heroes) she opened the doors and walked on in.

Anyone heading in could tell it was an older building. Even with the replacement of carpet, which appeared to be just a slab of boring white, they couldn't hide the older lighting fixtures, or the tacky border clinging to the walls, which were painted a light mauve. A pot of coffee sat on the burner beside a drooping box of previous day donuts. Typical setting, right? Nothing weird at all... Penelope moved through the rows of cubicles, looking for anything strange or unusual. Nothing. Perhaps this was just a case of simple murder then, huh? Just because the Doctor was there, she reasoned with herself, didn't mean it had to be alien. A sigh of relief sounded. Just in case... She bent over one of the computers still logged into the network and scanned the documents brought up. It appeared to be blue prints of some sort. Nothing alien looking, no weird parts indicating it was anything amazing. Tetris had been minimized, so it couldn't be that important.

"Doctor, the police are on there way? Did you find anything, or is this just the usual murder..." Penelope squinted out of the corner of her eye, swearing she had seen something just then. "Doctor...." she called out, a slight panic to her trills. No she did see something. In fact, now that she thought about it, she could feel something was off in the office. Something...strange. Something caught her eye momentarily distracting her. Something tiny and silver. Bending over she scooped it up. Probably discarded trash, but she decided to keep it just in case. Better to look like a fool then to discard any sort of evidence. That uncanny heaviness of offness stayed with her like a thick atmosphere as she started to move back towards the exit sign located in the back.

"Doctor," she tried again, this time a little braver then before. Everyone had departed the office. No one was here. Except the dead body, of course. And them, she thought with a little smack to her head

While in the office of the man, the Doctor heard a familiar voice calling out to him. It must have been from the women he had run into earlier in the park, but she hadn't followed him into the building apparently. The Doctor came out into the hallway where the voice was coming from. "In here, Penelope!" He motioned for her to come into the office with him.

As she entered the dull office, the Doctor was standing by the window looking out into the grassy knoll that laid out before him. But upon closer inspection, the Doctor was carefully observing the window itself. He was leaning in close to the brass fixtures that held the dusty blue panes closed, dissecting the loose screen, trying his best to reconstruct the scene in his head.

He turned around to face Penelope. "My dear Penelope, this is FAR from the usual murder scene." He twirled the leather computer chair, causing the soft black suede to form an impression of his handprint on the headrest. As the chair began to slow, the Doctor stopped it and pushed it under the desk. He circled the desk, coming around, passing Penelope and plopping down with a soft thwump on the shiny green leather chair, which housed his own frock and scarf.

He clasped his hands together, resting his chin upon his hands, pursing his lips deep in thought. After taking an unusually large inhale, he finally spoke aloud to Penelope. "After a close inspection of the crime scene, and the corpse, I have come to a definite conclusion: this was not an Earthly interaction."

The Doctor got up, and leaned down to the corpse, which was still turned over on it's back. "Take a close look at this wound. The shirt and coat suggest that a blade has been used on him, piercing the sternum and the ribcage, and quite possibly causing a heart attack. However, if you look at the wound itself, it's coming out of the body rather than going in. So there's was something that was supposed to be coming from behind. But as you can see, there isn't an entrance wound at all!"

The sirens outside the building had grown loud enough to be assumed that they were outside of the building's front doors. The Doctor turned to Penelope and motioned for them both to leave the scene. He brought her into the hallway and into an empty office. A few moments passed until the paramedics had come. The Doctor, exiting the office and taking an inspection around the office itself, turned to Penelope and gave her the "okay" nod.

They walked out of the office's side door, which was conveniently located right next to the office they were in. They had successfully evaded all the notice of the police and crowds. The Doctor turned back to Penelope as they were walking towards where the TARDIS resided. "I've spent years with Scotland yard inspecting crime scenes with my friend Lt. Doyle, and not once have I seen anything like this. It seems as if what had killed the man came from inside of him rather than outside in. No murder weapon, no disturbance of the flesh. Just destruction of his clothing. Someone, or something, was smart enough to cover it's tracks. Like brushing over your footprints behind you in the mounds of snow..."

Of course it wasn't of Earthly interaction... To her great misfortune on her way to exit the stage she had passed the Doctor, who had plopped down on the green bound leather swurvel chair. Her eyes slid over the body with a shiver of foreboding. Penelope had not wanted to lay witness to the man's final moments. Blood, not yet fully dried, was congealed under him. Spittle pooled under the man's chin. Quite possibly the foul smell emitting from the body was the bowel unloading itself. Common stages of death. Common but unpleasant. Heavily distracted by the body, she found it difficult to concentrate much on his speech. It sounded informal and well versed, but the mockery of life in such a silent, still place... Another shiver ran up her spine, eyes pinned to the decaying man. Lack of life was evident, and not just by the unnatural stillness. Paling...Corpsy... Unpleasant images ran amock in her head, finger tapping against her thigh as panic seized her heart.

The Doctor pointed out the wound dissecting the wrongness of it. He tried to get her to look at the strange evidence and swift cunning deduction. Window, still allowing a fresh breeze in, provided a window of opportunity. According to the slit cloth on the back, it as a good presumption the weapon had been discharged from outside the window. Why him? Out of all the people in the office, why would an alien choose to kill him then cover their tracks? Would something be linked back to them that would raise suspicion?

Thankfully the emergency personal interrupted their morbid rendezvous. The Doctor urged them both to hide in another section of the office. After being passed with no alarm at their persons being noted, they then left from the side entrance. Penelope stayed by his side unusually quiet. The image of death was still fresh in her mind. When traveling with the other regenerations (though the 5th had been brief), death had never really presented itself. No one in her family had died (yet) and had been spared such unsightly scenes. True it was a part of nature, and she had seen her fair share of discarded flattened animal corpses on the side of the road, it was her first time seeing true death face to face. The man hadn't been that old, his hair still a steady brown, laughter lines just then creasing around the lines of his mouth and eyes. His suit spoke of tasteful expense that spoke of a budgeted middle aged man rather then the usual splurge of youth. It had not just been taken from him, but stolen. That truth, that terrible consequence of events, terrified her.

Only the mention of Doyle caused the forlorn cloud to disperse momentarily. "The man who wrote the Sherlock books?" Her eyebrows perked in curiosity

The Doctor had continued rambling on about his interactions with Doyle and what an excellent chap he was, not taking any notice that his companion was rather pale and possibly sick. It wasn't until she spoke up that he actually looked down at her. "Why yes! The very same chap indeed! splendid fellow, writing those books. I believe I might have inspired him to write them, basing them off of me and whatnot. Then again, I can't take all the credit. He did write the novels."

The Doctor had taken no notice of where they were going, but had somehow came back to a small cafe right outside of the park where he had parked his TARDIS (some could argue that the TARDIS parked him...) He turned to Penelope, motioned towards the cafe, and brought her inside.