Runaway - Part Fifteen
~Masterlist~
Concept: Hazel Richards is a twenty-year-old woman living in London. When she meets a mysterious time-travelling alien known only as the Hunter, she’s thrust into a world of wonder she could only have imagined.
Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.
Mike Denman stepped off the train at Cardiff Central railway station and headed to the Roald Dahl Plass. He smiled when he saw the TARDIS parked just in front of the huge water tower, walked up, and knocked on the door. It swung open to show a handsome man with dark hair and a confused expression. "Who the hell are you?"
"What do you mean, who the hell am I? Who the hell are you?" Mike demanded.
"Captain Jack Harkness." He flashed his signature brilliant smile. "Whatever you're selling, we're not buying."
Mike narrowed his eyes. "Get out of my way!" He pushed past Jack and into the TARDIS, making the man roll his eyes as he closed the door.
"Don't tell me. This must be the pikey you were telling me about."
The Hunter beamed down at them from a ladder, where she was fixing a light fitting on the wall. She was wearing a white t-shirt with blue skinny jeans, and ankle boots. "Here comes trouble! How're you doing, Spike?"
"It's Mike!"
Hazel rolled her eyes, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. Judging both by this and her thick hoodie, she wasn't planning on running around much today. Maybe they'd be able to have a quiet day together for once? "Don't listen to her, she's winding you up."
"Damn right, I am," the Hunter muttered in the background, smirking.
"You look fantastic," Mike told Hazel, hugging her. Startled, she held her hot chocolate out of the way and hoped it wouldn't spill.
"Aw, sweet, look at these two," Jack sighed, leaning against the console next to the ladder. "How come I never get any of that?"
"Well, you'd have to buy me a drink first," the Hunter told him, winking.
He sighed despairingly. "You're such hard work."
"Yeah, but worth every bit of it," she smirked.
"Did you manage to find them?" Hazel asked eagerly.
"There you go," Mike smiled, handing over the fake IDs and passport. Little did he know, the IDs were in for a cathartic burning session later - it'd been Jack's idea.
Hazel grinned. "I can go anywhere now."
"I told you, you don't need a passport," the Hunter rolled her eyes, making her way down the ladder.
"It's all very well going to Platform One and Justicia and the Glass Pyramid of San Kaloon, but what if we end up in Brazil? I might need it," Hazel pointed out. "You see, I'm prepared for anything."
"Sounds like you're staying then," Mike noticed. Everybody looked at him, and he changed the subject. "So what're you doing in Cardiff? And who the hell's Jumping Jack Flash? I mean, I don't mind you hanging out with Soulless Samantha over there."
"Oi!" the Hunter exclaimed.
"Listen to yourself," Mike sneered. "But this guy, I don't know, he's kind of -"
"Handsome?" Jack suggested, grinning.
"More like cheesy," Mike corrected, clearly not impressed.
Jack looked to the Hunter. "Queenie, early twenty first century slang. Is cheesy good or bad?"
"It's bad," Mike deadpanned before she could get a word in.
"But bad means good, isn't that right?" Jack shrugged.
"Are you saying I'm not handsome?" the Hunter asked, nudging him.
"You're not handsome, you're beautiful," Jack told her, making her grin.
"We just stopped off," Hazel cut in, seeing Mike looking at them with disgust. "We need to refuel. The thing is, Cardiff's got this rift running through the middle of the city. It's invisible, but it's like an earthquake fault between different dimensions."
"The rift was healed back in 1869," the Hunter continued.
"Thanks to a girl named Gwyneth," Hazel added, "because these creatures called the Gelth, they were using the rift as a gateway, but she saved the world and closed it."
"But closing a rift always leaves a scar," Jack explained, "and that scar generates energy, harmless to the human race -"
The Hunter nodded. "But perfect for the TARDIS, so just park her here for a couple of days right on top of the scar, and -"
"Open up the engines, soak up the radiation," Jack continued.
"Like filling her up with petrol and off we go!" Hazel cheered.
"Into time!" Jack exclaimed.
"And space!" they all shouted together, high-fiving.
Mike just stared at them for a moment. "My God, have you seen yourselves? You all think you're so clever, don't you?"
"Yeah," Hazel nodded.
"Yep!" Jack agreed.
"It does seem to be the general consensus," the Hunter shrugged, leading them out onto Roald Dahl Plass and locking the door behind them. "Should take another twenty four hours, which means we've got time to kill."
"That old lady's staring," Mike noticed.
Jack smirked. "Probably wondering what four people could do inside a small wooden box."
Mike stared at him, looking horrified by the mere suggestion. "What are you captain of, the Innuendo Squad?"
"Well, actually -"
"Jack!" Hazel exclaimed, and they both burst out laughing, the Hunter watching fondly.
"Wait, the TARDIS, we can't just leave it," Mike protested as they started walking away. "Doesn't it get noticed?"
"Yeah, what's with the police box?" Jack asked. "Why does it look like that?"
"It's a cloaking device," Hazel told them.
"It's called a chameleon circuit," the Hunter explained. "The TARDIS is meant to disguise herself wherever she lands, like if this was Ancient Rome, she'd be a statue on a plinth or something. But I landed in the '60s, she disguised herself as a police box, and the circuit got stuck."
"So it copied a real thing?" Mike asked. "There actually was police boxes?"
"Yeah, on street corners," the Hunter nodded. "Phone for help before they had radios and mobiles. If they arrested someone, they could shove them inside till help came, like a little prison cell."
Jack shook his head slightly. That didn't sound too pleasant. "Why don't you just fix the circuit?"
She pouted. "I like it, don't you?"
"I love it," Hazel grinned.
"But that's what I meant," Mike said, pulling the conversation back to him. "There's no police boxes anymore, so doesn't it get noticed?"
The Hunter smiled, standing in front of him with her hands on his shoulders. Despite being an inch or so shorter, she still intimidated him, and he didn't even know the whole of what she could do. "Spike, let me tell you something about the human race. You put a mysterious blue box slap bang in the middle of town, what do they do? Walk past it. Now, stop your nagging. Let's go and explore!" They set off walking again.
"What's the plan?" Hazel asked, looping her arms through both Jack's and the Hunter's.
The Time Lady shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Cardiff, early twenty first century, and the wind's coming from the east. Trust me. Safest place in the universe."
***
They ended up in a small restaurant on the jetty, where Jack was telling them stories from his previous adventures.
"I swear, six feet tall and with big tusks!" he was saying.
"You're lying through your teeth!" the Hunter accused, laughing.
"I'd have gone bonkers!" Hazel cried, holding onto the table to keep her from falling out of her seat with laughter. "That's the word - bonkers!"
"I mean, it turns out the white things are tusks and I mean tusks!" Jack enthused. "And it's woken, and it's not happy."
"How could you not know it was there?" the Hunter demanded, her eyes wide and filled with happy tears.
"And we're standing there, fifteen of us, naked -"
"Naked?!" Hazel echoed, crying with laughter.
"And I'm like, oh, no, no, it's got nothing to do with me," Jack continued. "And then it roars, and we are running, oh my God, we are running! And Brakovitch falls, so I turn to him and I say -"
"I knew we should've turned left!" Mike cried.
"That's my line!" Jack exclaimed as Hazel burst out laughing all over again.
"I don't believe you!" she sighed, wiping her cheeks. "I don't believe a word you say ever. That is so brilliant! Did you ever get your clothes back?" The Hunter borrowed a newspaper from the next table, her good mood swiftly dissipating.
"No, I just picked him up, went right for the ship, full throttle. Didn't stop until I hit the spacelanes. I was shaking. It was unbelievable. It freaked me out, and by the time I got fifteen light years away I realised I'm like this."
The Hunter sighed disappointedly. "And I was having such a nice day." She showed them the newspaper, the front page of which showed Margaret Blaine as the new Lord Mayor of Cardiff.
***
In the foyer of the City Hall, Jack began to outline what they already knew about Margaret. "According to intelligence, the target is the last surviving member of the Slitheen family, a criminal sect from the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius, masquerading as a human being, zipped inside a skin suit." He nodded. "Okay, plan of attack, we assume a basic fifty seven fifty six strategy, covering all available exits on the ground floor. Queenie, you go face to face. That'll designate Exit One. I'll cover Exit Two. Jules, you're on Exit Three. Mike, you take Exit Four. Have you got that?"
The Hunter raised her eyebrows at him pointedly. "Excuse me. Who's in charge here?"
Jack bit his lip to hide a smile. "Sorry. Awaiting orders, your Majesty."
"Right, here's the plan." She paused, smirking. "Like he said. Nice plan. Anything else?"
"Present arms," Jack ordered. Each of them pulled out a mobile phone, except for the Hunter, who was fixing a Bluetooth unit to her ear.
"Ready," she nodded.
"Ready," Hazel stated.
"Ready," Mike agreed.
"Ready," Jack smiled. "Speed dial?"
"Yep," the Hunter grinned, sonicing the device.
"Ready," Hazel seconded.
"Check," Mike nodded.
Jack flashed a brilliant smile. "See you in hell."
***
The Hunter followed the signs through to the outer area of the Lord Mayor's office, where a young man was sitting at his desk just outside the door. "Hello," she smiled warmly. "I've come to see the Lord Mayor."
"Have you got an appointment?" the young man asked politely.
"No, just an old friend passing by. Bit of a surprise," she grinned. "Can't wait to see her face."
"Well, she's just having a cup of tea," he stated.
"Just go in there and tell her the Hunter would like to see her."
"The Hunter?" he echoed.
"Yeah, it's an inside joke," the Hunter lied. "Tell her exactly that. The Hunter."
"Hang on a tick," the man smiled, and went into the office. The Hunter waited patiently, smirking when she heard a teacup smash on the floor, then smiling politely when the man came back out, looking flustered. "The Lord Mayor says thank you for popping by. She'd love to have a chat, but, er, she's up to her eyes in paperwork. Perhaps if you could make an appointment for next week?"
The Hunter looked at him pityingly. "She's climbing out of the window, isn't she?"
"Yes, she is," he admitted, sighing in relief.
"Slitheen heading north," she reported, pushing past the man, through the office and out onto the balcony.
"On my way," Hazel replied.
"Over and out," Jack agreed.
"Oh my God!" Mike wailed.
"Leave the Lord Mayor alone!" the man cried, trying to pull the Hunter back from following Margaret as she climbed down a ladder on some scaffolding on the side of the building.
The Hunter rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on." She telekinetically threw the man back into the office, locking the balcony behind him. "It's like you're not even trying."
Margaret reached the bottom of the ladder and took off her brooch, starting to run. When she saw Hazel running towards her, she snarled, removing her right earring. Then Jack came running from the opposite direction.
"Margaret!" the Hunter taunted, seeing she was running in the only available direction - across the front of the building. She joined Jack and Hazel at the entrance to the alleyway at the front of the building, seeing Margaret running away from them.
"Who's on Exit Four?" Jack demanded.
"That was Mike!" Hazel supplied.
"Here I am," Mike announced, running out with one foot in a bucket.
"Oh, you pikey," the Hunter scoffed.
"Be fair, she's not exactly going to outrun us, is she?" Hazel pointed out, at which point Margaret vanished.
"She's got a teleport! That's cheating!" Jack complained. "Now we're never going to get her."
"Oh, Artie's very good at teleports," Hazel assured him.
The Hunter buzzed the sonic screwdriver in the direction of Margaret's disappearance, and she reappeared, running towards them. She frowned, turned around and vanished again, but the Hunter just brought her back. The next time she was brought back, she was standing right in front of them, and panting hard. "Do you know, I could actually do this all day," the Hunter remarked conversationally, looking down at Margaret with no pity.
"This is persecution," Margaret accused. "Why can't you leave me alone? What did I ever do to you?"
"You tried to kill me, my friend Hazel here, and destroy the entire planet," the Hunter pointed out bluntly.
Margaret blinked. "Apart from that."
***
"So, you're a Slitheen, you're on Earth, you're trapped," the Hunter mused, leading them into the presentation room of the City Hall, in which the centrepiece was a model of a nuclear power station. "Your family get killed, but you teleport out just in the nick of time. You have no means of escape. What do you do? You build a nuclear power station. But what for?"
"A philanthropic gesture," Margaret shrugged airily. "I've learnt the error of my ways."
The Hunter scoffed. "And it just so happens to be right on top of the rift."
"What rift would that be?" Margaret asked innocently.
"A rift in space and time," Jack answered. "If this power station went into meltdown, the entire planet would go -" He mimed an implosion with his hands, adding the appropriate sound effects.
"This station is designed to explode the minute it reaches capacity," the Hunter stated, looking at the model.
"Didn't anyone notice?" Hazel frowned. "Isn't there someone in London checking this sort of stuff?"
"We're in Cardiff," Margaret deadpanned. "London doesn't care. The South Wales coast could fall into the sea and they wouldn't notice." She made a face. "Oh, I sound like a Welshman. God help me, I've gone native."
"But why would she do that?" Mike asked. "A great big explosion, she'd only end up killing herself."
"She's got a name, you know," Margaret pointed out icily.
"She's not even a she, she's a thing," Mike countered.
"Oh, but she's clever," the Hunter smiled. With her metal hand, she yanked the middle section from the model and turned it over to reveal circuitry. "Fantastic."
"Is that a tribophysical waveform macro-kinetic extrapolator?" Jack asked excitedly.
The Hunter grinned, handing it over. "Couldn't have put it better myself."
"Ooh, genius!" Jack exclaimed. "You didn't build this."
"I have my hobbies," Margaret shrugged. "A little tinkering."
"No, no, no, no," Jack shook his head. "I mean, you really didn't build this. Way beyond you."
"I bet she stole it," Mike accused.
"It fell into my hands," Margaret said defensively.
"Is it a weapon?" Hazel inquired.
"It's transport," Jack told her, grinning. "You see, if the reactor blows, the rift opens. Phenomenal cosmic disaster. But this thing shrouds you in a forcefield. You have this energy bubble, so you're safe." He put the extrapolator on the ground. "Then you feed it co-ordinates, stand on top, and ride the concussion all the way out of the solar system." He stood on top demonstratively.
"It's a surfboard," Mickey realised.
"A pan-dimensional surfboard, yeah," Jack nodded.
"And it would've worked," Margaret grumbled. "I'd have surfed away from this dead end dump and back to civilisation."
Hazel frowned. "Isn't there supposed to be something about meddling kids in there?"
"You'd blow up a whole planet just to get a lift?" Mike asked, wondering why the others weren't too shocked.
"Like stepping on an anthill," Margaret smirked.
"How'd you think of the name?" the Hunter asked. She was looking at one of the banners with an expression of concern.
"What, Blaidd Drwg?" Margaret shrugged. "It's Welsh."
The Hunter rolled her eyes. "I know, but how did you think of it?"
"I chose it at random, that's all. I don't know, it just sounded good. Does it matter?"
"Blaidd Drwg," the Hunter mused, frowning.
"What's it mean?" Hazel asked.
"Bad Wolf," the Time Lady replied.
Hazel flinched, and Jack put his arm around her shoulder's - much to Mike's annoyance. "But I've heard that before. Bad Wolf. I've heard that lots of times."
"Everywhere we go," the Hunter narrowed her eyes. "Two words following us. Bad Wolf."
"How can they be following us?" Hazel whispered.
The Hunter shared a look with Jack, both of them clocking how scared Hazel actually was. "Nah, just a coincidence. Like hearing a word on the radio then hearing it all day. Never mind. Things to do. Margaret, we're going to take you home."
Jack blinked. "Hold on, isn't that the easy option, like letting her go?"
"I don't believe it!" Hazel exclaimed. "We actually get to go to Raxa - wait a minute. Raxacor -"
"Raxacoricofallapatorius," the Hunter told her in amusement.
"Raxacorico -"
"- fallapatorius."
"Raxacoricofallapatorius." Hazel's eyes widened. "That's it! I did it!" She and the Hunter hugged in celebration.
"They have the death penalty," Margaret cut in, ruining the ambience. "The family Slitheen was tried in its absence many years ago, and found guilty with no chance of appeal. According to the statutes of government, the moment I return, I am to be executed. What do you make of that, Hunter? Take me home and you take me to my death."
The Hunter regarded her coldly with those steely blue eyes. "That sounds like a not me problem."
***
Night had fallen by the time they got Margaret to the TARDIS.
"This ship is impossible," she exclaimed as Hazel shut the door behind them. "It's superb. How do you get the outside around the inside?"
"Like I'd give you the secret," the Hunter scoffed.
"I almost feel better about being defeated," Margaret admitted. "I never stood a chance. This is the technology of the gods."
The Hunter smirked. "Well, now you mention it..." She turned her attention to the extrapolator. "Jack, how's it going?"
"This extrapolator's top of the range," he told her, glancing up at Margaret. "Where did you get it?"
"Oh, I don't know. Some airlock sale?"
"Must have been a great big heist," Jack translated. "It's stacked with power."
"But we can use it for fuel?" the Hunter asked.
"It's not compatible, but it should knock off about twelve hours," Jack nodded. "We'll be ready to go by morning."
She sighed, but nodded. "Then we're stuck here overnight."
"I'm in no hurry," Margaret piped up.
Hazel smirked, sitting cross-legged on the jump seat. "We've got a prisoner. The police box really is a police box."
"You're not just police, though," Margaret pointed out. "Since you're taking me to my death, that makes you my executioners. Each and every one of you."
"Well, you deserve it," Mike shrugged.
"You're very quick to say so," Margaret noticed. "You're very quick to soak your hands in my blood, which makes you better than me how, exactly? Long night ahead. Let's see who can look me in the eye."
Mickey looked away before she even met his eyes, and neither Hazel nor Jack held her gaze for more than a few seconds. When she looked to the Hunter, though, she gasped, seeing the woman casually making several paperweights float about her head with her metal arm.
"You're a -!"
"A what?" the Hunter asked, smirking. "A mutant Time Lord? Now, now, Maggie, don't be a bitch. You're hardly my first dead body. How's about you sit down and shut up?" Stunned, Margaret did so.
***
"It's freezing out here," Hazel complained as she joined Mike outside the TARDIS, keeping her hands cosy in her hoodie pocket.
"Better than in there," Mike huffed. "She does deserve it. She's a Slitheen. I don't care. It's just weird in that box."
"I didn't really need the passport," Hazel confessed. "Or the IDs."
Mike smiled. "I've been thinking, you know, we could go have a drink. Have a pizza or something. Just you and me."
"I guess," Hazel shrugged. He was still her friend, she just didn't want to deal with the awkward 'are you staying' crap.
"And I mean, if the TARDIS can't leave until morning, we could go to a hotel, spend the night." Hazel raised her eyebrows incredulously, and he backtracked. "I mean, if you want to. I've got some money."
"Mike, can I ask you a question?" Hazel bit her lip.
"Sure, what's up?"
"Are you seriously still labouring under the impression that I'm straight?" Mike blinked, and she laughed. "Oh, come on! How many times have I told you? It's been four years!"
"Oh, shut up!" he complained, not meeting her eyes. "Of course I knew. I just... You never know."
She narrowed her eyes. "What part of not attracted to men are you not getting?"
"Well, you know, I'm different," he shrugged. "I'm your mate."
"Yeah, and I'm gay," she stressed, raising her eyebrows.
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. There's a couple bars around here. We should give them a go, you know, before we go for pizza." He saw her glance back at the TARDIS. "Do you have to go and tell her?"
She shook her head. "She knows."
***
Inside the TARDIS, the Hunter shook her head, watching them walk away on the monitor.
"What?" Jack asked, coming to see.
"He's trying so hard to get in there," she told him, snorting. "It's pitiful."
"Does he know she's gay?" Jack frowned.
"Oh, yeah," the Hunter nodded. "She says she's been telling him for four years."
"What a dick," Jack muttered.
"I gather it's not always like this, having to wait. I bet you're always the first to leave, Hunter. Never mind the consequences, off you go. You butchered my family and then ran for the stars, am I right? But not this time," Margaret smirked. "At last you have consequences. How does it feel?"
The Hunter scoffed. "I didn't butcher them."
"Don't answer back," Jack complained. "You know that's what she wants."
"Well, I didn't," she shrugged, before turning back to Margaret. "What about you? You had an emergency teleport. You didn't zap them to safety, did you?"
"It only carries one," Margaret explained. "I had to fly without co-ordinates. I ended up on a skip in the Isle of Dogs." Jack and the Hunter snorted. "It wasn't funny!"
"Sorry," the Hunter apologised, then snickered. "It is a bit funny."
Margaret rolled her eyes tiresomely. "Do I get a last request?"
"Depends what it is," the Hunter shrugged.
"I grew quite fond of my little human life," Margaret admitted. "All those rituals. The brushing of the teeth, and the complicated way they cook things. There's a little restaurant just round the Bay. It became quite a favourite of mine."
The Hunter frowned. "Is that was you want, a last meal?"
"Don't I have rights?" she pleaded.
Jack scoffed. "Oh, like she's not going to try to escape."
"Except I can never escape the Hunter, so where's the danger?" Margaret shot back, before looking to the Hunter. "I wonder if you could do it? To sit with a creature you're about to kill and take supper. How strong is your stomach?"
"Strong enough," the Hunter assured her.
"I wonder," Margaret mused. "I've seen you fight your enemies, now dine with them."
The Time Lady snorted. "You won't change my mind."
"Prove it," the Raxacoricofallapatorian snarled.
"There are people out there," the Hunter pointed out. And Hazel. "If you slip away just for one second, they'll be in danger."
"Except I've got these," Jack stated, holding up two bangles. "You both wear one. If she moves more than ten feet away, she gets zapped by ten thousand volts."
The Hunter eyed them. "Do I even want to know?"
"Not in the slightest," Jack promised, smirking.
She rolled her eyes, smiling, then turned to their captive. "Margaret, would you like to come out to dinner? My treat."
Margaret smirked. "Dinner in bondage. Works for me."
***
"Here we are, out on a date, and you haven't even asked my proper name," Margaret sighed as they settled in their chairs, the Hunter grabbing a menu.
She rolled her eyes. "It's not a date. What's your name?"
"Blon," Margaret replied. "I am Blon Fel Fotch Pasameer-Day Slitheen. That's what it'll say on my death certificate."
The Hunter smiled politely. "Nice to meet you, Blon."
"I'm sure." Margaret pointed towards the window. "Look, that's where I was living as Margaret. nice little flat, over there, on the top. Next to the one with the light on." The Hunter turned to look, and Margaret emptied powder from her ring into her wine glass. "Two bedrooms, bayside view. I was rather content. Don't suppose I'll see it again."
The Hunter turned back around, eyed Margaret, then swapped the glasses. "Suppose not."
"Thank you."
"Pleasure."
"Tell me then, Hunter. What do you know of our species?" Margaret wondered.
"Only what I've seen," the Time Lady replied, looking at the menu.
"Did you know, for example, in extreme cases, when her life is in danger, a female Raxacoricofallapatorian can manufacture a poison dart within her own finger?" She shot the dart, and the Hunter crushed it between metal fingers without looking up.
"Yes, I did."
"Just checking." Margaret leaned forwards. "And one more thing. Between you and me." The Hunter leaned forwards too. "As a final resort, the excess poison can be exhaled through the lungs." Margaret made to exhale, but the Hunter spritzed a breath freshener in her mouth.
"That's better," she grinned, before going back to her menu. "Now then, what do you think? Mmm, steak looks nice. Steak and chips."
***
Hazel and Mike had been to a few of the bars and were now leaning against the railings on Mermaid Quay. "The Hunter took me to this planet a while back," Hazel was saying. "It was much colder than this. They called it Woman Wept. The planet was actually called Woman Wept, because if you looked at it, right, from above, there's like this huge continent, all curved round. It sort of looked like a woman, you know, lamenting. Oh my God, and we went to this beach, right. No people, no buildings, just this beach like a thousand miles across. And something had happened, something to do with the sun, I don't know, but the sea had just frozen. In a split second, in the middle of a storm, right, waves and foam, just frozen, all the way out to the horizon. Midnight, right, we walk underneath these waves a hundred feet tall, made of ice." She smiled at the memory.
"I'm going out with Trisha Delaney," Mike blurted.
"Right," Hazel said, blinking. "Okay. That's nice. Trisha from the shop?"
"Yeah, Rob Delaney's sister," Mike clarified.
"Well, she's nice," Hazel nodded. "I thought you said you'd never date her."
"She lost weight," he shrugged. "You've been away."
"Well, good for you. She's nice," Hazel smiled.
"So tell us a bit more about this planet, then," he requested.
She shook her head, blowing out a breath. "That was it, really." No way was she telling him the stuff the Hunter had confided in her that day.
***
"Public execution's a slow death," Margaret stated conversationally as their steaks arrived. "They prepare a thin acetic acid, lower me into the cauldron and boil me. The acidity is perfectly gauged to strip away the skin. Internal organs fall out into the liquid, and I become soup. And still alive, still screaming."
"I don't make the law," the Hunter shrugged, stabbing a chip with her fork.
"But you deliver it," Margaret pointed out. "Will you stay to watch?"
The Hunter sighed. "What else can I do?"
"The Slitheen family's huge. There's a lot more of us, all scattered off-world. Take me to them," Margaret pleaded. "Take me somewhere safe."
"Yeah, and you'll just start again," the Hunter deadpanned.
"I promise I won't," Margaret stated hopefully.
The Hunter shook her head, scoffing. "You've been in that skin suit too long. You've forgotten. There used to be a real Margaret Blaine. You killed her and stripped her and used the skin. You're pleading for mercy out of a dead woman's lips."
"Perhaps I have got used to it," Margaret sighed. "A human life, an ordinary life. That's all I'm asking. Give me a chance, Hunter. I can change."
"I don't believe you," the Hunter stated, cutting into her steak.
***
"So, what do you want to do now?" Mike asked.
Hazel shrugged. "Don't mind."
"We could ask about hotels," he suggested.
"I'm just as gay as I was an hour ago," she rolled her eyes. "'Sides, what would Trisha Delaney say?"
"Suppose," Mike sighed. "There's a bar down there with a Spanish name or something -"
"You're not dating Trisha Delaney!" Hazel interrupted.
"Oh, is that right?" Mike scowled. "What the hell do you know?"
"I saw her three days ago cradling her firstborn child!" Hazel shot back, remembering when she'd got takeaway for herself, the Hunter, and Jack. "So who the hell do you think you're kidding?"
"At least I know where she is!" Mike shouted.
Hazel scoffed, shaking her head. "There we are, then. It's got nothing to do with Trisha. This is about me again, isn't it -?"
"You left me!" Mike cut her off. "We were nice, we were happy. And then what? You run off with her and you make me feel like nothing, Hazel. I was nothing. I can't even go out with a stupid girl from a shop because you pick up the phone and I come running. I mean, is that what I am, Hazel, standby? Am I just supposed to sit here for the rest of my life, waiting for you? Because I will."
Hazel stepped back, her eyes wide. "I'm... sorry?"
***
"I promise you I've changed since we last met, Hunter," Margaret implored. "There was this girl, just today. A young thing, something of a danger. She was getting too close. I felt the bloodlust rising, just as the family taught me. I was going to kill her without a thought. And then I stopped. She's alive somewhere right now. She's walking around this city because I can change. I did change. I know I can't prove it -"
"I believe you," the Hunter cut her off.
"Then you know I'm capable of better."
She shook her head. "It doesn't mean anything."
"I spared her life!" Margaret protested.
"You let one of them go, but that's nothing new," the Hunter shrugged. "Every now and then, a little victim's spared because she smiled, because he's got freckles, because they begged. And that's how you live with yourself. That's how you slaughter millions. Because once in a while, on a whim, if the wind's in the right direction, you happen to be kind."
"Only a killer would know that," Margaret accused, making the Hunter roll her eyes. "Is that right? From what I've seen, your funny little happy go lucky life leaves devastation in its wake. Always moving on because you dare not look back. Playing with so many people's lives, you might as well be a god. And you're right, Hunter. You're absolutely right. Sometimes you let one go. Let me go," she pleaded.
***
"I'm not asking you to leave her, because I know that's not fair," Mike said. "But I just need something, yeah? Some sort of promise that when you do come back, you're coming back for me."
There was a deep rumble in the distance, and Hazel looked up, frowning. "Is that thunder?"
"Does it matter?" Mike huffed, exasperated.
"That's not thunder," Hazel realised, hearing it again.
***
"In the family Slitheen, we had no choice," Margaret explained. "I was made to carry out my first kill at thirteen. If I'd refused, my father would have fed me to the Venom Grubs. If I'm a killer, it's because I was born to kill. It's all I know." She huffed impatiently as the Hunter looked around, frowning.
"Can you hear that?"
"I'm begging for my life, you could at least pretend to listen," Margaret complained.
"No, listen, shush," the Hunter muttered, pointing to her empty wine glass, which was vibrating. Suddenly the windows shattered, and the customers started screaming.
***
People outside ran cover as windows and street lights exploded. Hazel made a decision, running towards Roald Dahl Plass.
"Oh go on then, run! It's her again, isn't it? It's the Hunter! It's always the Hunter! It's always going to be the Hunter! It's never me!" Mike shouted bitterly.
Hazel turned on him. "Yeah, because she and Jack, they're more my family than you ever were. You call me when you've decided you're going to accept us." Then she turned her back on him and ran for the TARDIS.
***
Margaret wheezed as they ran across Roald Dahl Plass, tugging on the Hunter's arm. "The handcuffs!"
She rolled her eyes and took them off, depositing them in her back pocket. "Don't think you're running away."
"Oh, I'm sticking with you," Margaret assured her. "Some date this turned out to be!"
The Hunter's eyes widened when she saw the blue energy streaming up from the TARDIS into the sky. "It's the rift. The rift's opening." She ran in, Margaret close on her heels. "What's happening?" she demanded, seeing things sparking and almost exploding on the console.
"She just went crazy!" Jack called from under the grating, poking his head up from where he was working.
"It's the rift," she told him, trying to stop the explosions from the console. "Time and space are ripping apart. The whole city's going to disappear!"
"It's the extrapolator!" Jack exclaimed, climbing up to her level. "I've disconnected it, but it's still feeding off the engine. It's using the TARDIS. I can't stop it!"
"Never mind Cardiff," the Hunter bit her lip, her eyes wide. "It's going to rip open the planet!"
"What is it?" Hazel questioned as she ran in. "What's happening?"
"Oh, just little me," Margaret smirked, ripping the arm of her suit so she could grab Hazel around the neck with one of her talons. "One wrong move and she snaps like a promise."
The Hunter scowled. "I might've known."
"I've had you bleating all night, poor baby, now shut it," Margaret snapped. "You, fly boy, put the extrapolator at my feet." She tightened her grip on Hazel's neck, making the girl gasp. The Hunter nodded, her eyes on Hazel, and Jack did as ordered. "Thank you. Just as I planned."
"I thought you needed to blow up the nuclear power station," Hazel croaked.
"Failing that, if I were to be arrested, then anyone capable of tracking me down would have considerable technology of their own. Therefore, they would be captivated by the extrapolator. Especially a magpie mind like yours, Hunter," Margaret smirked. "So, the extrapolator was programmed to go to plan B, to lock onto the nearest alien power source and open the rift. And what a power source it found. I'm back on schedule, thanks to you."
"The rift's going to convulse," Jack realised. "You'll destroy the whole planet."
"And you with it!" Margaret cackled, stepping onto the extrapolator. "While I ride this board over the crest of the inferno all the way to freedom. Stand back. Surf's up."
The TARDIS console cracked open, and a bright light hit Margaret and Hazel, making the girl screw her eyes tightly shut.
"Of course, opening the rift means you'll pull this ship apart," the Hunter pointed out, leaning against one of the coral structures.
"So sue me," Margaret snapped.
"She's not just any old power source. She's the TARDIS. My TARDIS. The best ship in the universe," the Hunter said proudly.
"It'll make wonderful scrap."
"What's that light?" Hazel asked, wincing.
"The heart of the TARDIS," the Hunter replied. "This ship's alive. You've opened her soul. And she really has got a soft spot for our Hazel."
"It's so bright," Margaret whispered.
"Look at it, Margaret," the Hunter encouraged.
"Beautiful..."
"Look inside, Blon Fel Fotch. Look at the light."
Margaret relaxed, allowing Hazel to get free, rushing to Jack's side. "Thank you," Margaret smiled, then disappeared into the light, her bodysuit crumpling atop the extrapolator.
The Hunter moved immediately. "Don't look. Stay there. Close your eyes!" She closed the console up. "Now, Jack, come on, shut it all down. Shut down! Haze, that panel over there, turn all the switches to the right." The turbulence and the sparks stopped as the TARDIS settled, and she sighed in relief. "Nicely done. Thanks."
"What happened to Margaret?" Hazel wondered.
"Must've got burnt up," Jack guessed. "Carried out her own death sentence."
"No, I don't think she's dead," the Hunter shook her head.
Hazel frowned, rubbing her neck and wincing. "Then where'd she go?"
"She looked into the heart of the TARDIS. Even I don't know how strong that is. And the ship's telepathic, like I told you, Haze." The Hunter glanced over at her, flashing a smile. "Gets inside your head. Translates alien languages. Maybe the raw energy can translate all sorts of thoughts." She knelt by the skin suit and pulled out a large egg with dreadlocks. "Here she is."
"She's an egg?" Hazel frowned.
"Regressed to her childhood," the Hunter nodded.
"She's an egg?" Jack echoed.
"She can start again," the Hunter pointed out. "Live her life from scratch. If we take her home, give her to a different family, tell them to bring her up properly, she might be all right!"
"Or she might be worse," Jack suggested.
"That's her choice, Mr Pessimism."
"She's an egg," Hazel repeated.
"She's an egg," the Hunter agreed, smiling.
"Oh my God, Mike!" Hazel realised, getting to her feet and sprinting out the door.
***
The Hunter and Jack shared a look when she returned not five minutes later, looking dejected. "We're all powered up," the Hunter told her, making her look up. "We can leave. Opening the rift filled us up with energy. We can go, if that's all right."
"Yeah, fine," she nodded.
"How's Mike?" the Hunter asked carefully.
"He's okay. He's gone," Hazel muttered.
"Do you want to go and find him?" the Hunter offered. "We'll wait."
Hazel took a deep breath, then smiled, shaking her head. "No need."
"Off we go, then. Always moving on."
"Next stop, Raxacoricofallapatorius," Jack smiled, then nudged Hazel. "Now you don't often get to say that."
"We'll just stop by and pop her in the hatchery," the Hunter said, setting about flying them there. "Margaret the Slitheen can live her life again. A second chance."
Hazel smiled sadly, gripping the railings as they set off. "That'd be nice."
~~~
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