Work Text:
“Well, here’s a pickle,” Jenny muttered. She now had two choices: attempt a jump with a vortex manipulator that had stopped a bullet, or surrender.
As they were Sontarans, she was leaning toward option one.
“Maybe I should have just stayed on Messaline,” she added as gunfire streaked over the steel crate she was hiding behind. She’d been off the planet now for nearly a week longer than she’d actually lived there, but it had, after all, been her planet of birth, so she supposed that accounted for any remaining attachment.
There was a ptang! and something whizzed through the crate next to her shoulder. She’d been shot once and it hadn’t been fun, so perhaps it was time to take a page from Dad’s book and run.
She was fairly sure the device was set for twenty-first-century Earth – Donna’s words and the scattered memory-fragments she’d inherited indicated Dad spent a lot of time there – so with any luck…
Actually, with any luck she wouldn’t have been in this mess to start with.
“Well, here goes nothing,” she said, and went for it. Reality shuddered around her, her surroundings skipped backward a few times before melting into a whirl of shapes and lights and darkness, and she felt Time screaming like a cat that had just discovered rocking chairs.
Hum. That can’t be good, she thought, and passed out.
###
“Doctor!” someone yelled. “I’ve found something!”
Oh, that’s nice, Jenny thought vaguely. It worked. Or I’m in hospital, I suppose. She cracked an eyelid to check. Blue sky, treetops waving in a slight breeze, and taking up most of her vision, a young woman with brown hair and nice eyes. She was also decidedly not in any sort of uniform, so with that and her surroundings, Jenny decided she was not in hospital. The woman had been looking off to the side, and looked down now at Jenny. She saw that her eyes were open and tried for a smile.
“You’ll be alright, don’t worry.”
“Here, what’s happened?” said an unfamiliar man’s voice.
“I don’t know, Doctor – one moment, nothing, and then everything twisted and here she was!”
Jenny heard a whir she’d know anywhere – it was a sonic screwdriver. She craned her neck, something rustling behind her head, and was greeted with a man as unfamiliar as the voice, all teeth and curly hair. Her heart sank, and as he briefly met her eyes, she looked in vain for any sign of recognition.
Well, that’s alright, she decided, just means I’m early! The alternative was that he’d forgotten about her, but that would Hurt so she decided it wasn’t the case. Anyway, he’s six, maybe seven bodies younger than when I was born.
How did I know that?
But he felt familiar, so she knew, somehow, she was right.
“Hmm. Vortex manipulator,” the Doctor said, sonic aimed at her wrist. She became aware of some amount of pain, there and everywhere else really. “Explains the time distortion. Highly damaged, not at all safe. Did you use that?” he asked, finally addressing her, though the answer was rather obvious.
“Hadn’t much choice,” she said anyway. “Stuck between a Sontaran and a hard place.”
He made an ah of understanding, if not approval – approval would have been nice, but she’d take understanding, she supposed technically he wasn’t her Dad yet anyway.
“I’m…” hold on, do I introduce myself? Could cause some sort of… timey… problems, couldn’t it? She wasn’t totally sure but she had some vague idea that could be the case.
Eh. I’m sure it’ll be fine.
“I'm Jenny,” she finally said.
“I’m Sarah Jane,” the other woman said. “This is the Doctor.”
“Mm, yes, pleased to meet you,” he said, still examining the vortex manipulator. “I’m afraid we’ll need to get you back to the Tardis before we can get that off. It’s become a bit over friendly with your skin.”
“Right-o,” Jenny said. As soon as Sarah Jane was out of the way, she kipped up, then wobbled a little unsteadily. Sarah Jane caught her before she could fall. “Sorry, little dizzy still.”
“Only to be expected,” the Doctor said. “Easy does it.”
Jenny looked ahead, and the sight of a familiar blue box clinched it. Sarah Jane and the Doctor helped her to it, and the Doctor went in ahead of them and opened the door.
“Hello, old girl,” Jenny murmured as she entered, resting a hand on the doorframe. “Very nice to meet you.”
“What was that?” Sarah Jane asked.
“Nothing,” Jenny said with a shake of her head. “Thinking out loud.”
She was thinking in her head, too, now that she was a bit less woozy; mostly, that this had been a bad idea. If she managed to screw up Dad’s timeline, she might never be born, and a paradox involving a time traveller like him would be Not Good. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, her own personal knowledge of time travel being limited to what Dad and Donna had mentioned and what she’d gotten out of that Time Agent she’d mugged before he was shot, but the thought was there and probably accurate.
Inside, the first room – the console room, something supplied – was all white, with the main console a hexagon in the centre covered in switches and buttons and toggles, a central column alight with all the bright energy of the Tardis. The walls were white, with inset circles - love the circles - softly glowing, four to a row. Looking slightly out of place, a dark wooden coatrack stood a bit left of the entrance, though the only thing currently on it was a hat.
Jenny's jaw dropped into a wide grin. “It's...”
"Yes?" the Doctor prodded with a toothy grin.
"It's beautiful!"
His eyebrows rose. “You’ve been aboard a Tardis before.”
Damn!
“No, well, sort of. It’s complicated.” Do tiny pieces of unconnected flash-memory imprints count?
“That’s time travel, I suppose,” Sarah Jane said.
“How’d you know?” Jenny asked.
“Most people say ‘It’s bigger on the inside’,” the Doctor replied with a momentary smile. He came back toward her and scanned her again with the sonic. His eyebrows rose, and he looked from the sonic up to meet her eyes. “Two hearts. Thought so. You’re a Time Lord.”
'She's nothing but an echo.'
Jenny winced. “Sort of? It’s-”
“Complicated. I see.”
She shrugged. “I’d say more, only, paradoxes.”
He peered at her again. “You’ve been aboard my Tardis before.” She shrugged again, and he nodded. “Yes. Right. Best I don’t pry. Keep my distance. HARRY!” he yelled suddenly. A door opened, and a man emerged with a notebook in hand. He was fairly large, Jenny observed, square-jawed, light curly hair; looks to be in good shape, doesn’t carry himself much like a soldier. Low threat, she decided.
“Ah, Doctor, good,” he said, not looking up from the notebook. “The Brigadier rang, wants our help in Scotland. I’d ask how you have a working telephone but I doubt I’d understand it.” He looked up and stopped short. “Oh! Who’s this then?”
“Harry Sullivan, Jenny… I’m sorry, did you have a last name?” Sarah Jane asked.
“Smith,” she said, before she could think better of it. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, and Sarah Jane laughed.
“What?”
“I’m Sarah Jane Smith,” she explained. “And The Doctor’s used ‘John Smith’ when he has to.”
Did I just name myself after Dad?
“We’ve a veritable convocation of Smiths aboard!” the Doctor said. “Harry, any chance of you changing your name?”
“I’m quite happy as it is, thank you.”
“Oh, well. What’s this?” The Doctor gestured to the notebook, and Harry passed it over. “Hmm. Harry, be useful, see if you can help her get that off her wrist, would you?”
Jenny held up her left wrist with the damaged vortex manipulator so Harry could see it. He frowned.
“Right. Hmm. Follow me, old girl, I’ll soon have you set to rights.”
“Don’t suppose you can fix it?” Jenny asked, looking from him to the Doctor as the first man led her over to a high stool. She didn’t hold out much hope, as it looked rather like a microwaved hockey puck – how do I know that? What’s a microwave? What’s a hockey puck??
“Unlikely. And if I could, I wouldn’t,” the Doctor said, glancing at the notebook in one hand and adjusting things on the console with the other. “Nasty, those, stick you straight into the Time Vortex. Very bad for you, very bad indeed.”
“Da-octor, I need it!” she protested, only stumbling slightly, definitely wouldn’t happen again.
“Why did you even have it?” Sarah Jane asked, joining her while Harry left the room.
“Mugged a Time Agent for it,” she said brightly. “Aiming for the twenty-first century. Seem to have missed.”
“Hold on, are you from the future, then?” Sarah Jane asked. “When? What’s it like?”
“Oh, boring old century, you wouldn’t have heard of it,” Jenny told her. “When are we now, then?”
“We’re in 1976, at the moment,” Sarah Jane said. "Or possibly 1980? Somewhere around there, with all the time travel it's a bit muddled." Harry reentered the room then with a bag.
Jenny did some quick maths. Oh, wow! She grinned. “Brilliant! Love time travel. So, how am I meant to get on, then?” she asked the Doctor.
“It’s a free cosmos, I’m sure you’ll think of something,” he said distractedly.
Jenny blinked.
“The Doctor is, on occasion, rather a brute,” Sarah Jane murmured apologetically. “I don’t think he means it, mostly.”
“Ah, there we go,” Harry said. Jenny winced as the vortex manipulator peeled away, taking a fair bit of skin with it, and Harry wrapped it in a few strips of gauze.
“Be fair, he’s had lots more time to get old and crotchety than you or I,” Jenny said at a normal volume. That got the Doctor’s attention, as he finished inputting coordinates and turned around.
“I’ll have you know I’m quite young for a Time Lord! Middle-aged at most.”
Harry frowned and turned so he faced both of them. “How old are you?”
“Seven hundred and forty-nine,” said the Doctor, and,
“About a week,” Jenny said at the same moment. When the other three blinked at her, she continued, “unless we’re counting in objective chronology rather than personal timeline, in which case I suppose somewhere around minus four thousand.” She smiled at Harry’s dumbfounded look. “I’m old for my age.”
The Doctor barked a laugh, seeming to brighten at the prospect of her strange chronology.
“Well then! I suppose we’re off the Scotland! Let’s see what the Brigadier needs help with.” He winked at Jenny. “I suppose you ought to come along. Just until we know there won’t be any side-effects, of course.”
“Of course,” she said, smiling back. “What’s Scotland?”
“Haggis, bagpipes, Robbie Burns, and deep-fried Mars Bars.”
I haven’t the slightest idea what that means. That excited her.
“Creatures to defeat?” she asked.
“Quite possibly.”
“Civilizations to rescue?”
“Entirely likely!”
“Planets to save?” As they traded words, their expressions had grown to match.
“I shouldn’t wonder,” he said with a fierce wild grin.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Jenny said, hopping down from the stool. “Allons-y!”
After all, it couldn’t hurt to stick around for a little while.
