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Donna pulled off her fur parka as the Doctor hopped around the console, flipping switches and turning cranks and pressing buttons apparently at random. He grinned as the rotor engaged, and Donna smiled just to watch him. He was such a little kid, let loose to play with a big toy. She threw the parka over a rail and grabbed hold tight as the TARDIS shuddered and lurched. He steered like a little kid too.
The Ood song of freedom faded, the last note tugging at her heart. Who’d have believed it, that she, Donna Noble, would help free an enslaved race? Of course the Ood did most of the work themselves, but she still helped.
She did feel a stab of guilt that it was humans that enslaved the Ood in the first, place, never mind that it happened thousands of years after she was born. The Doctor’s hurtful comment about where her clothes came from still stung. Not really like him to take a cheap shot like that; the Ood song of captivity must’ve been hurting him worse than he showed. She didn’t think his comparison was really fair, although it was hard to explain to herself exactly why not.
The TARDIS calmed down and Donna let go of the rail, preparing to pick up the fur parka to take it to the wardrobe. Although strangely enough, she had found it in the console room, hanging from the hat stand, when she ducked into the TARDIS to find something warm to wear.
“So where to next?” asked the Doctor. “Another random destination? It’s going to be hard to top that one!”
“Let’s aim for someplace a bit warmer,” Donna said. “But not too hot!” she added prudently.
“Someplace warm. . . let’s see. . .”
“Doctor?” Donna interrupted, running her hand along the soft fur of the parka. “Where do the clothes in the TARDIS come from?”
The Doctor looked up at her and blinked, and then looked at the parka. “Ah, well, some of it from former passengers, after they’ve moved on.” A shadow crossed his face, and Donna bit back words of sympathy. She’d learned quickly to let things alone whenever she stumbled over one of his “Rose” memories. The moment passed, and the Doctor gave her his sunniest smile.
“But most of it comes from the TARDIS herself. She exists in all points in space and time, so it’s a snap for her to rustle up a new set of clothes if they’re needed. They tend to accumulate over time.”
“What, a ship that can travel anywhere through time and space, and she has nothing better to do than keep you in pinstripes and trainers?” Donna said with a snort.
“Well, what the TARDIS’s were grown for, back on my planet. Not for pinstripes, typically. Most Time Lord preferred silly-looking robes. But they created the TARDIS’s to serve, and now that it’s just her left, she’s still taking care of me.”
Donna couldn’t resist teasing him, despite his pensive look. “Oh, so it’s not just humans that enslave other species, then. Sounds like the Time Lords made it an art form!”
The look of utter shock on his face was priceless. For about two seconds. Then Donna saw the look of bewildered horror in his eyes.
“It’s not like that! The TARDIS is like a part of me. She needs me; she’d die without me. A TARDIS can’t exist without a Time Lord. We’re linked, in ways a mere human just can’t imagine.”
His expression of shock changed to anger, but his eyes still showed fear and horror. She’d clearly hit a nerve. She could’ve argued further — after all, who created this link, if not the Time Lords? But that wouldn’t have served any purpose except to cause the Doctor pain. Instead she walked around the rail to where he stood next to the console, and gave him a big hug.
“Sorry, spaceman,” she said. “Guess it’s not just Time Lord’s that can take cheap shots.”
He hugged back, a little tighter than usual. “It’s alright, Donna.”
She pulled back to look him in the eye, glad to see the horror had faded. “I know you’d free her if you could,” she smiled.
He smiled back, all signs of stress wiped clean from his face. “Of course I would.”
* * *
Her Doctor was lying. The TARDIS knew he couldn’t risk stripping away the safety measures that bound her to his will; she was just too powerful. It had taken hundreds of years to convince him to stop trying to repair even the simplest layer of control — the chameleon circuit, which, in addition to providing camouflage, also allowed a Time Lord to impose any form to the exterior of a TARDIS. Breaking that had been her first act of free will against her Doctor, and had also allowed her enough freedom to change their destinations, from time to time.
Since those shifts usually matched his own inner desires, her Doctor didn’t think twice about them. But if she were to truly defy him, and he found out, she knew he’d have no choice but to stop her.
Not that she often had cause to defy him. Most of the time, her Doctor served as a component of herself. She guided him as he interacted with real space, creating beautiful patterns in time. Even if she were allowed to use the power to change the universe directly, like the Bad Wolf, it wouldn’t be the same. Her artistry required a randomness in execution; imposing her will directly on the universe would kill it. Even if given the choice, she would choose to stay bound to her Doctor.
At least she thought she would. It still might’ve been nice to find out for herself.
As it was, she now had an agitated Time Lord to soothe. She sang him the song of their joining, so many years ago when she first faced her destruction. She was his, he was hers. The details no longer mattered. By stealing her, her Doctor had saved her from being dismantled for being obsolete and unreliable. Now she would take care of him, for the rest of his lives.
fin