L'Ange de l'Assassinat (Four and Charlotte)

Charlotte had never been "fired" before. Actually, she had never heard the term "fired" in that sense in all of her far-too-complex time-twisting life. Apparently, it meant she no longer was employed. The reason given: too much time away from work. If she hadn't spent time away being captured by Daleks, investigating Mr. Merrick's murder, and stepping into time-distorted libraries with a little boy and Captain Ravissant - euh, Captain Jack Harkness - she wouldn't be in this situation, would she? The boss had acted as if she had had a choice in these matters...

Sometimes, she thought life would be easier if everyone knew she was that Charlotte Corday, the one who assassinated corrupt politicians during the French Revolution with a sharp, sharp knife that she still had on her. Then she would quickly remind herself that she would be all kinds of dead if they knew.

She sighed, slumping down in her chair outside the Starbucks shop. It wasn't how a proper lady would sit, but she wasn't a proper lady anymore. She was an unemployed, possibly mad time-traveller.

And with that, she heard a strange wheezing sound behind her. Charlotte looked around, and standing there was an odd little blue box...

.....whir......
......wHIRr......
......WHIIIRRRR.......
....WWHHHHHEHEEEERRRLLL.......
THWONGONGONGONGONG!

Within moments of materializing out of thin air, the odd blue police box opened up, revealing an odd looking man inside. He was rather tall, with dark brown curls and vividly blue eyes, all accented with a smile that could blind an elephant. He seemed dressed in a Bohemian air, with a grey tweed frock, brown plaid waistcoat, and a large multi-colored scarf draped around his neck, with both ends touching the floor. He seemed lost and confused when he emerged, as if he'd managed to land not where he had wanted to....

The man leaned into the police box and yelled something to the extent of "Stay behind K-9, I'll go check it out....", and emerged once more. "This is NOTHING like Metropolis VII."

He had landed somewhere in a small, rural town. Not too big, but not too small. The Doctor took in the scenery that surrounded him. Small shops surrounded the tree-lined boulevard. Quaint little apartments and houses could be seen on the far ends of the street, complete with people walking their pets and children on either side. Carefree leisure bikers and people on park benches could also be seen. Every walk of life that could exist in a small town such as this existed in harmony. "Perhaps this place really isn't so bad..."

He turned around and was met with the curious face of a beautiful young woman in the window. She looked at the box, then looked at the man, and back and fourth went. The Doctor gave one of his cheeky smile and waves, then went over to the TARDIS and locked the doors. As he stood at the doors, an odd feeling washed over him. The face in the window....where had he seen her before?

He turned to look back but she had left....

Charlotte had stepped out of the cafe to further look at the blue box. It looked familiar, but she couldn't place it... oh, wait. It had appeared right before the Daleks had. And she did not want to relive that particular episode of her past.

She backed away from it, slowly, but as she was getting about two feet from its doors, she tripped and fell back onto the ground. She looked around. There was a scarf on the ground... wait, no. There was a scarf reaching to the ground, yet still wrapped around the neck of whoever was wearing it. Charlotte looked up to see a tall man with dark, curly hair and a teethy grin, wearing a striped colored scarf of ridiculous length. She sighed. "No need to help me up." She stumbled to her feet on her own. Tripping over a scarf. How embarrassing. "You really should keep that under control. Maybe wrap it around twice?"

The Doctor loomed over the girl who had tripped over his scarf, watching her as she regained her balance and stood up. She had made a quip about controlling his scarf and wrapping it around him twice, all through a seemingly thick French accent. The Doctor tipped his hat, apologize, and offered her a jelly baby.

"My deepest apologies Madame, I had no idea you were here." The Doctor paused for a moment before looking her over. "I'm sorry, but have we met before? I have the strangest feeling I know you from somewhere..."

His fierce blue eyes scanned her, trying to pinpoint her origin. Something about her air beckoned of an age that long since passed. Her accent, though, claimed an era that specifically passed around 200 years ago...French Revolution perhaps?

No, he couldn't know who she was. He couldn't. Because if he knew who she was, then he would know that she didn't belong in this time period. Which gave him knowledge, which gave him power over her. Defensively, she crossed her arms and looked up at him again. He looked... somewhat silly, to be honest. And he was holding out a piece of candy. She glanced at it, took it from his hand with a look of distrust, and put it in her pocket.

Charlotte circled around this box of his, scrutinizing each detail. "Your box came out of nowhere," she said. "It just... appeared." On the front of it, she noticed, were words. Police Public Call Box. The corner of her mouth twitched. "You're from the police?" Oh,. mon Dieu, not the police again. We don't need another police investigation. "Why are you here?" she asked the man in the scarf. "Is something wrong?" How would he possibly know me?

There was a sign beneath one of the windows, at the bottom saying, Pull to open. "Why would you even want to go in there? There isn't room for anything more than a chair."

((TC? your turn?))

"Well...not the police necessarily, but definitely a police box nonetheless. It's more of a matter of perspective really. She gets me from here to there without any stipulations, unfortunately she is stuck like this for quite a while. Or at least until I change her back."

With that last comment, the TARDIS whirred quietly, but crossly. Startled, the Doctor petted the box gingerly, and whispered quietly "And old girl, I wouldn't have you any other way."

He turned his attention to Charlotte. "To tell you the truth, I've just come from the a very wonderful floral planet on the eastern side of the galaxy. Quite a beautiful place, you know. Rather large bees."

Was he... was he talking to the box? None of what he was saying made any sense to her, though she began wondering if this man was mad or an alien or both. Well, it's not like that would be anything new, given the course her life had seemed to be heading down...

"Did I hear you mention another planet?" Charlotte raised her eyebrows. "Because I'm pretty sure just a box couldn't take you to other planets. Are you with Captain Harkness or something? Or - or the Daleks? Or that Anonymous Chicken agency?" Without waiting for him to answer, she boldly stepped up to the police box planet-travelling device and crossed her arms. She shot a look back at the man and his ridiculously long scarf, then yanked open the door.

"...mon Dieu."

It was... it was so much bigger on the inside. The floor and the walls were a brownish-gray, with some circular holes in the walls to show a yellow wall behind them. The only furnishings seemed to be a large device in the center, with buttons and levers and all sorts of controls on a dashboard around a light in a glass cylinder.

She turned back to the mystery man. "Who are you?" Charlotte started to back away and nearly tripped on something on the floor. She glanced at it. It appeared to be a metal, not very realistic statue of a dog. "What is this place?"

Casually, the Doctor walked in behind Charlotte and closed the door, locking it behind her. He turned to face the amazement of fresh eyes entering the TARDIS. He motioned to K-9, who was the unfortunate recipient of a rogue foot, to be quiet and hush himself. He didn't want to overwhelm this woman all at first.

He strolled over to the console, which was the jewel of his console room, and leaned against it with a mild, arrogant (but friendly) air. "This, mon cherie, is the TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. And it's not an place as much as it is a thing. It's my space craft. As for your Anonymous turkey or Lord Harness or whatever it was, I haven't the slightest of who you are talking about."

"This is my home. And I am the Doctor. And you, my rather queer friend, are not who you say you are." He flipped a few switches on his console and the TARDIS began to dematerialize, echoing a peaceful and gentle grinding sound.

"And I am the Doctor."

At those words, she dropped everything. It all happened so fast. She pulled out her knife and backed as far away as she could from the Doctor, screaming quite violent French curses. A second later, she came to her senses and dropped the knife, breathing raggedly. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. Just... just don't call me cherie. Or anything chère. And you got the gender wrong. I'm feminine, not masculine." She kicked the knife off the floor and over the railing. "At least I didn't do anything this time."

Crossing her arms, she went back over to the Doctor. "What did you do to the thing? It made a weird sound," she commented, then, as an afterthought, "My name's Charlotte. And--hold on, did I hear the metal dog talk?"

"My deepest apologies, Madame, it's been a while since I've practiced French, let alone Earthian French. I didn't know improper gender references was that insulting."

The Doctor, who had made his way to the other side of the console during the rather sudden onslought of Charlotte and her rather dangerous, glistening knife, which now resided next to his foot. "The metal dog is...well, he's here for your entertainment. He makes great conversation at times, but mostly he's a pain in my bearings. Isn't that right. K-9?"

He bent down and grabbed the knife. He brought it close to his face, examining the craftsmanship and detailing the piece. He reached into his pocket and brought out a small, jeweler's eyepiece and got an even closer look. After several mmhmm's and ah-ha!'s, he set down the knife and looked up to Charlotte with the eyepiece still in.

"Just as I thought. Mistress Charlotte Corday, I presume. Assassin of Jean-Paul Marat, innovator of the French Revolution, and for being a woman who's supposed to have been beheaded, you've sure got a solid foundation. So tell me, Mademoiselle Corday, what's your line?"

He knows. He knows who I am. He knew my knife. How?

Staring, brow furrowed, at the inquisitive, impossible man in front of her, she shook her head. No. This was... Charlotte thought to cross her arms, before realizing they were already crossed. She couldn't back away--she was already pressed against the wall. And who knew what he had done to his machine? Had they disappeared into space, just as the box had materialised without warning just--what was it, ten minutes ago? Five?

She took in a deep breath. Just confess. Just tell him everything, just like you did Jack. "M'sieur le Docteur," she started. "What I did, I did without choice, in the name of peace and sanity. Marat was perverting France. I had to do something. I had to kill him, and don't think I wasn't prepared to face the consequences! I wasn't afraid of the guillotine. I mean, I was, but I accepted it. I was proud to die for liberty. But then the executioner brought out a statue of an angel and I touched it and I was... transported. Just like your TARDIS took you places, and in time. I went from 1793 to 2014 in the blink of an eye and have been trying to get by ever since. But there was that book in the library and everyone's saying I'm supposed to be dead. There were Reapers, monsters coming for me from the Time Rift. Does that mean I have to go back?" The thought made her shiver. "And be décapitée?"

Charlotte hated feeling weak, so she forced back her tears. You're strong. You killed for justice. You faced the Daleks, and the Reapers, and the Daathvaen. "Docteur, please don't take me back there, not yet. Let me travel with you. I want to see everything."

"Buzzcocks. Sanity is a poorly thought-up concept of measuring one's ability to blend in. At least I've always thought so. Freud didn't particularly care for my thoughts on that though."

The Doctor flipped a switch, opening the bay doors of the TARDIS. Outside the doors was a magnificent, awe-inspiring sight: the birth of a nebulous entity. The galactic winds were stirring up bright lights and glittering specs in the clouds of every color in the spectrum. A gentle breeze floating though the doors, wafting a light metallic scent, and perhaps a hint of raspberry. "It's the smell of space, Mademoiselle. A rare treat indeed."

He wandered over to her and stood by her, leaning against the open doors of the TARDIS, staring out into space. "I am a timelord, it's in my nature to preserve the natural events in sequence. Who am I to argue with history? I'm afraid, Miss Corday, that you must face the guillotine. It's not a matter of yes or no, it's a matter of preserving history. Letting Charlotte Corday being dubbed "the assassin that got away" will destroy France, and will not end in anything good."

He could feel the weight of his words, realizing how difficult it was to reveal this to her. "Death is not an easy adventure. Trust me, I've experienced it twice. I can however, make a bargain with you." He turned his fluffy headed mop to her.

"You may travel with me for however long you would like, seeing and doing everything you want, within reason of course. But at the end of our adventure, you will be dropped of in France at your proper time. No questions asked. Deal?"

When the Doctor opened the doors of the TARDIS, Charlotte could barely believe her eyes. Being transported through time in the same place was one thing, even hundreds of years into the future, but... space? The stars? Nebulae and suns up close, painted against the darkest of skies? There was no way to describe it, because there was no comparable experience in the universe to floating in the expanse of space for the first time.

The Doctor moved close to her and spoke of preserving history, the inevitability to going back to France and to death. He said death wasn't easy, and that he knew--how? He hadn't died yet, if he was still here and alive. And yet he said he'd experienced it twice. Twice.

An objection rose to her lips, but before she could voice it the Doctor was offering her a chance to travel with him, anywhere she liked, "within reason of course." She turned to him, met his eyes, and said, "Deal."

Charlotte poked her head out of the blue box and looked around. "So there are other planets that have life, like the floral one you came from?" After a thought, she said, "Are you human, or something else--an alien? Is that how you died twice and are still here? Or are you a ghost of some kind?" She peered at him, a tad suspiciously.

"Alien? Yes. Well, perhaps. My home planet is long from here, on the far side of the Universe itself. What am I? Not Earthen, that's for sure. But Earth is my home now, it's the place I vowed to protect so long ago. One of these days, my dear Corday, you shall know my story. "

The Doctor turned to her, pulling out a bag of jelly babies from his pocket and offering her one. "A wise man I know once said that our destiny is in the stars. Then, I didn't know how much it really meant to me. But now, I suppose it's more true than ever. So, Madamoiselle Corday, shall we go seek it out?"

END, LEADING DIRECTLY INTO "The Wheels in Space go Round, Round, DELETE!"