For UnseenWatcher.

So I was in the middle of drafting my next multi-chapter when a lovely commenter on AO3 got this idea stuck in my brain, and I just had to stop and write it. All you need to know going in is that Rose has married Eleven and they have a baby daughter. (And if anyone would like to find out just how all of that came about, see my previous story, "The Aftermath of Forever".)

"Draught," said the Doctor without looking up, once the roar of the motorbike's engine faded.

Snap, went Clara's fingers, followed by the slam of the TARDIS' doors. Shifting Suzy on his lap, he kissed her breeze-ruffled hair as he turned the page of their book.

"'Advanced Quantum Mechanics'?" Clara tossed her helmet on a jump-seat, boots clacking loudly as she approached. "That's your story of choice for an eight-month-old baby? Really?"

The Doctor met his friend's amused eyes. "She's nine months now. And she likes this, I'll have you know."

With a grin, Clara nodded toward Suzy. "Yeah, I can see that. She's just...eating it up."

Glancing down, the Doctor grimaced when he found his daughter contentedly gnawing on the book's thick corner, one page crinkled up in a small, damp fist. She squawked in protest as he carefully extracted it from her grasp.

"You're getting so big," Clara cooed at her, crouching down to the baby's eye level and brushing a hand over her soft brown curls. "And prettier all the time."

Showing all eight teeth in a open-mouthed smile, Suzy stretched a hand out to grab hold of a button on Clara's leather jacket. Clara leaned away gingerly, and held up two index fingers for Suzy to grip instead. "So, did we decide on a plan for tonight?"

"Yes, there's this lovely spot on the moon that Rose and I like these days. Private tables each under their own atmospheric bubble, great for earth-gazing. Also great because if little miss here is less than quiet, it doesn't matter."

"Will there be cocktails?"

"Of course."

"Love it." Clara clapped Suzy's hands together playfully. "Where is Rose, by the way?"

"Having a kip." His eyes fell shut in a long blink. "Or she was, anyway," he went on, smiling as he found his wife's mental presence was bright and alert. "She hardly slept last night, with Suzy up wanting to nurse practically every hour. Growth spurt, I think. Or teething," he added with a grin; in spite of Clara's best efforts to distract her, Suzy had a fistful of her jacket again and was yanking it toward her open mouth, her fine little brows drawn together in the sort of relentless determination that could only be Time Lord/Tyler genetics at work.

"So how's the job?" he asked, swallowing a laugh at Clara's futile attempts to escape the baby's iron-fisted grasp. "Teach anything good?"

"No-"

Out of nowhere the room tilted and Clara cut off with an oof as her backside hit the floor. The Doctor held Suzy tight with one arm and the jump-seat with another, his eyes seeking the Time Rotor, which was strangely silent. A beeping alarm sounded, then all the monitors lit up.

TARDIS interference detected.

Clara clambered to her feet, gripping the back of his seat for balance. "What's happening?"

"Whoa, whoa," he said as the ship rocked roughly, cuddling Suzy closer. "We're taking off. But the engines aren't going."

"Then why are we moving?" called Rose, and he looked over. She was clutching the catwalk's railing as she made her way to the stairs.

"Not sure. But if you'll come get Suzy, I'll find out."

A minute later the Doctor stood unsteadily at the console, switching the monitor to an outside view. "We're in the air?"

The floor's irregular lurching hardly slowed him down as he dashed off to confirm it.

"Don't!" he heard Rose gasp out, before rough wind in his ears and the deafening whirr of helicopter blades commanded his full attention, answering one question but raising up loads of others. His gaze panned upward. Long lines of cable, moored to the expected helicopter...its UNIT insignia clear as day.

UNIT. Jaw jutting, he angrily snatched up the nearby emergency phone and jabbed its buttons with a thumb. Bloody UNIT. Bloody UNIT and their bloody presumptive ways, stealing his TARDIS, endangering his family-

The Doctor was well on his way to a full-fledged snit when Rose's telepathic shout startled him out of it. Doctor! Get back inside!

Phone at his ear, he twisted to peer back inside and winced as he caught a glimpse of his wife's pale, frightened face. "Sorry," he mouthed to her, shuffling backward in an attempt to obey, but the cord only allowed for a meager half-step and oh, hello, someone was answering.

"Hello? Kate Stewart's phone."

"Yes, hello, this is the Doctor," he said, grasping the doorframe with his free hand as the Thames wound below like a shimmering snake. "I need to speak to Kate. Now."

"Oh, hold on. Excuse me. Ma'am. Ma'am!"

A lot of rustling around, and at last, Kate's pleasant voice. "Doctor, hello. We found the TARDIS in a field. I'm having it brought in."

Wind rumbled like thunder in the phone's small mouthpiece. "No kidding," replied the Doctor sardonically.

"Where are you?"

In lieu of answering, the Doctor aimed the phone up toward the helicopter.

"Oh, my god! Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry. We had no idea you were still in there. Come on."

Overhead, the helicopter's blades tilted, whirring into an abrupt change of course. His stomach swooped and the world tipped and there was a dizzy rush of noise and air, and the next thing he knew he was dangling from the doorway, Clara's hands tight round his ankles and his wife's panic in his head.

Also, a voice in his ear. "Doctor, can you hear me? I don't think he can hear me."

"Next time, would it kill you to knock?"

"I'm having you taken directly to the scene. Doctor, hello, are you okay?"

"Whoa! I'm just going to pop you on hold." He dropped the phone, and with a twist (plus a considerable amount of abdominal strength), he lifted and grabbed at the base of the TARDIS.

"Doctor!" Clara cried out, as he tugged his feet from her grasp.

"I'm fine!" he shouted, projecting as much remorse as he could muster to his wife. "We're just about to land."

The cold, clenched fist of Rose's fear loosened, giving way to something hot and sharp which outright rebuffed his apologies. The Doctor sighed, more than willing to grovel, but it would have to wait. Kate was just below, side by side with another woman in a white coat -oh, Trafalgar Square, interesting- and a squadron of uniformed UNIT soldiers. In times past, such a sight would have him perking up a bit (such a fuss as all this practically promised fun) but these days things were different. Aside from safe trips and visits with friends, he and Rose had agreed that until their daughter was grown, the only path for them was the slow path. No missions, not unless it was truly dire.

Yet only a few months in and here he was, right where he'd sworn he'd never be, about to plunge down the middle of an army along with his wife and child.

Take it easy, Doctor, he told himself, as anger flared in his chest all over again. Nobody's running around in panic. Perhaps Kate simply needs advice. Something complicated for the humans but ridiculously simple for him, something he could drag out just long enough to give Rose time to calm down and not murder him.

"Atten - shun!" called a soldier. Releasing his grasp on his ship, the Doctor dropped the last few feet to the ground, immediately saluting Kate and the uniformed officers.

"Why am I saluting?" he muttered, lowering his hand. Behind him, the TARDIS bumped down and Clara hopped out, door creaking as she pulled it shut.

Kate rushed over, looking as embarrassed as he'd ever seen her. "Doctor," she said, as the unknown woman came to stand at her side, "as Chief Scientific Officer, may I extend the official apologies of UNIT."

The Doctor gave her reproachful look and a finger wag. "Kate Lethbridge Stewart, a word to the wise. As I'm sure your father would have told you, I don't like being picked up."

"Unless it's by Rose," quipped Clara under her breath.

"I'm acting on instructions direct from the throne," said Kate, handing him a small envelope. The Doctor flipped it over, frowning at the red wax seal on the back. "Sealed orders from her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the First."

"The Queen?" Clara blinked at it. "The First? Sorry, Elizabeth the First?"

"Her credentials are inside," Kate explained. Warily, the Doctor inspected the small note, turning it over, and began to dig a thumbnail into the seal.

He was not disappointed when Kate stalled him. "No. Inside." Heels clicking, she turned and headed for the steps of the National Gallery.

"Wait," called the Doctor, after a moment's hesitation. He couldn't just...swan off, not without a word to his wife. But why, oh why, couldn't this be regarding some anomaly, or a nice little invasion? Rose was already upset enough, the last thing she needed was to have his eons old indiscretion thrown in her face too. As far as dodgy decisions went, whatever had happened with the Virgin Queen was one of his dodgiest, probably. Didn't quite remember. But the stone in his gut told him that everything he never cared to know about it was about to be made quite clear.

"Doctor?" Kate was waiting.

"Ah..." He inclined his head toward the TARDIS. "I'll just be a moment." With a fortifying breath, he opened the door and slipped through, quickly slamming it before Clara could follow.

Rose was waiting on the ramp just inside, Suzy at her feet. The baby stood there on chubby legs, gripping the railing -her new favourite trick- and she let out a happy squeal when she saw her daddy.

"Look at you, big girl!" he exclaimed with a grin, scooping her up to kiss her soft cheeks.

"Da," she said, in her sweet baby voice, placing one palm on his cheek to intensify their mental connection, a wordless demand for his full attention. He chuckled.

A throat cleared pointedly, and the Doctor schooled his face into contriteness before meeting his wife's eyes. "Ehm. I'm sorry about earlier. It was, well. Stupid."

"Stupid, exactly," she agreed vehemently. "And later, you're gonna explain to me why a man with a wife and baby daughter doesn't pull crazy stunts like that, ability to regenerate or no." Rose sighed, rubbing her temples. "Anyway, let's leave it for now. What's going on out there?"

The Doctor shifted Suzy into his left arm and handed Rose the envelope. "UNIT's called me in, not sure why yet. But, well...it has to do with Elizabeth the First. This note is from her."

Rose took in the waxy royal seal, face darkening. ""M I allowed to open it?"

"Well, Kate Stewart seemed to believe it best I see Elizabeth's 'credentials' first, whatever that means. They're in the National Gallery."

"All right," she said, after a moment's consideration. "Let's go. Kate's probably wondering...and I can't wait to meet her, really."

The Doctor froze. "What? No."

"'No?'" Rose crossed her arms. "Oi. As your wife, don't you think I have the right to know why this woman -who may or may not have been some sort of old flame of yours- is sending you a love letter?"

"'Love letter?'" he echoed, nose curling. "This isn't a love letter, it's sealed orders, and she's not my... Rose, you know I don't do that. No way was there any... any 'flaming' involved. And it's not that I don't want you along. Our infant daughter, on the other hand? Not so much."

"'S not like it's dangerous; it's just the National Gallery." Pushing Elizabeth's note back into his free hand, Rose wiped her fingers on her jeans. "And you trust Kate Stewart. You can surprise her, show off your gorgeous little girl. You love that."

Unsure, he sat Suzy in the crook of his left elbow and looked her over, smoothing down her pink-flowered dress. His baby girl was especially sweet in it, her cheeks rosy, the outfit flattering her fair complexion and honey-coloured curls. Suzy beamed at him, as if she knew her daddy was admiring her, those large, bright brown eyes of hers so like her mother's. It was impossible not to smile at the little darling, even though she was not-so-gently grabbing at his nose.

"Did you see that I painted her toenails this morning?" Rose held up Suzy's bare foot. "To match her dress."

Oh, that was adorable, those teensy little nails dotting the tips of her chubby toes with bright pink, and-

A snicker. A rather victorious-sounding one at that, though Rose met his sharp look with innocent solemnity.

The Doctor sighed. "Alright, alright, you win. But if there's anything here I perceive as dangerous, it's off to the TARDIS for you two. Deal?"

Rose saluted, and when he rolled his eyes she laughed. He held his hand out for hers and she threaded their fingers together, warm and strong, and as they smiled into each other's faces pride and wellbeing filled him. It was brilliant, having a family. Best team he could ever wish for.

Said family in tow, he exited the TARDIS, into a breeze that was far gentler now that the helicopter had gone.

"Kate Stewart," he said, hiding his amusement as the eyes of the normally unflappable CSO popped wide, locking onto the baby in his arms. (Alright, yes, this was a bit fun.) "I'd like to introduce my wife, Rose Tyler."

Kate blinked, managing to drag her gaze from the baby to Rose. "Lovely to meet you," she said, recovering enough to return Rose's smile. Behind her, on the steps to the Gallery, the dark-haired woman in the long scarf silently watched, puffing long and deep on her inhaler.

"And this is our daughter, Susan." The Doctor jostled her to elicit a giggle, and he leveled Kate with a serious look. "Nine months old, just beginning to stand on her own. As you might imagine, her mother and I would prefer she at least be able to run properly before having her along on any sort of mission. So for future reference, Kate Stewart, phone first."

"I understand," said Kate, on an exhaled breath. Nodding at her, the Doctor motioned for her to lead the way. The bespectacled brunette shrank back against the railing as they passed her on their way up the steps.

"She's beautiful," he heard gasped out behind him. Pausing, the Doctor looked back. He wasn't sure if the compliment was directed toward his wife or his daughter, but what did it matter? She was right, either way.

"I know. What's your name?"

Her mouth opened, and she blinked a few times before giving a rather strangled answer.

"Osgood."

The Doctor smiled. "Good name. Nice scarf."

The National Gallery was impressive, all parquet flooring and dizzyingly high ceilings, its smaller exhibits enclosed in cases of polished glass. A few were intriguing enough to catch his eye, but it was more fun to watch Rose, her red Converse squeaking as she strolled along a few steps ahead of him, alongside Kate. Her energy low-key and her smile disarming, she chatted with the older woman, typically determined to make her feel at ease.

"I've heard so much about your father, you know," said Rose as they turned a corner. "The Doctor's told me stories about their time together- he's really very fond of him."

Kate smiled, the line of her shoulders relaxing a little. "My father was quite fond of the Doctor as well."

"That right? Said that a lot, did he?"

The older woman took in Rose's playful grin, and her smile grew. "Well, perhaps he didn't often put it quite like that."

A hint of pink tongue appeared, and the Doctor knew the conversation had taken the exact turn Rose hoped for. "Oh, do tell. All I ever get is the Doctor's side and I know he skews things. For example, that time he was supposed to address the palace? I just know his reason for running off wasn't-"

"Hey," said the Doctor, loud enough that it echoed in the narrow corridor. "That's rude, talking about me when I'm right here."

No one paid him any mind, and Clara dashed ahead to join their conversation. "Wait," she said to Kate, squeezing in next to Rose. "How did your dad know the Doctor?"

"He worked for us, for UNIT, back in the 1970's. He never told you that?"

Clara turned, walking backwards so she could stare him down. "You had a job?"

"He had to, he was stuck on Earth," Rose cut in, before he could say a word. "Well. Exiled here." From over her shoulder she tossed a grin his way.

Clara looked delighted. "Oh my god, you were exiled-"

"Stop it," he hissed, and covered Suzy's innocent little ears. "Yes, I was exiled, but what Rose won't mention is the part where they pleaded for me to come back home afterward so they could make me their President. Fickle bunch, the Time Lords. Now stop telling tales about me in front of my daughter."

Rose slowed to link her arm with his. "You mean, unless it's about how brilliant you are."

"I am brilliant," he argued, pouting, but leaning into her nonetheless. "I even have fans, hello. Did you not see the lady in the scarf?"

Snickering, Rose kissed his cheek and Suzy's head as they passed through a doorway into a large room, its towering white walls dotted with paintings. Directly before them was a large one on a stand, draped over with a cloth. Kate halted them before it.

"Elizabeth's credentials, Doctor," she announced, tugging the cloth away.

Every sound went static, every sight blurred but that of the painting before him- no, not a painting. A window to the past, a technicolor slice of memory that he'd buried deep, like thousands of others just like it. A Citadel, a fire, chaos, destruction. Pain and death.

A War.

Clara's voice pierced the fog. "But, but that's not possible."

Distantly, the Doctor felt Rose stroking his arm, was aware of her heavy concern, but he couldn't tear his eyes from the painting. "No more."

"That's the title," said Kate.

"I know the title."

Kate tucked her short blonde hair behind an ear. "Also known as Gallifrey Falls."

"This painting doesn't belong here," he said, "not in this time or place."

"Obviously," murmured Clara.

Rose palmed his cheek softly, encouraging him to look at her. "Love, what is it?"

He swallowed. "It's the fall of Arcadia, Gallifrey's second city."

"But how is it doing that?" said Clara, stretching a cautious hand toward it. "How is that possible? It's an oil painting in 3D."

"Time Lord art. Bigger on the inside. A slice of real time, frozen."

"Elizabeth told us where to find it," Kate explained. "And its significance."

A whimper, and Suzy laid her head against his chest. With a flash of guilt, the Doctor realised he'd been broadcasting his distress unfiltered. He tossed up a hasty mental barrier and began to rub her back, shushing and swaying, blanketing their link with comfort and reassurance.

"You okay?" asked Rose quietly, her hand on his shoulder.

The Doctor met her gaze, continuing to sway with their daughter. "He was there."

Understanding filled her eyes.

"Who was?" Clara asked.

"Me," he said. "The other me. The one I don't talk about."

A frown creased her forehead. "I don't understand."

He sighed, focused on conjuring up enough comfort for Suzy to block out the pain behind his words. "I've had many faces, many lives. I don't admit to all of them. There's one life I've tried very hard to forget. He was the Doctor who fought in the Time War, and that was the day he did it. The day I did it. The day he killed them all. The last day of the Time War. The war to end all wars between my people and the Daleks. And in that battle there was a man with more blood on his hands than any other, a man who would commit a crime that would silence the universe. And that man was me."

Clara sucked a breath and turned to Kate. "But the Time War's over. Why have you brought us here to look at a painting?"

"The painting only serves as Elizabeth's credentials, proof that the letter is from her. It's not why you're here."

With dread, the Doctor handed the note to Rose. She gave him a small, reassuring smile, then broke the seal and unfolded the paper. From over her shoulder, he skimmed the elegant script.

My dearest love, I hope the painting known as Gallifrey Falls will serve as proof that it is your Elizabeth who writes to you now. You will recall that you pledged yourself to the safety of my kingdom. In this capacity I have appointed you as curator of the Under Gallery, where deadly danger to England is locked away. Should any disturbance occur within its walls, it is my wish that you be summoned. God speed, gentle hus-

Gentle HUSBAND?

Oh, this was so, so much worse than he'd thought it would be. The Doctor twitched, debating snatching it from Rose's fingers before she could read those last two words.

Too late. "'Gentle husband!'" Rose turned on him, aghast. "Oh my god, you married her?!"

He held up Suzy between them, like a little baby shield. "No!" he said helplessly, voice pitching high. "Yes! I don't know! It's all...foggy, like I've told you before!"

Rose breathed deep and visibly shook herself. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. It's all right, I'm not angry with you. I mean, I guess we don't know the whole story, and it was a long time ago, before we..."

"It didn't mean anything," he said earnestly, loving her more than ever. "It couldn't have. You know that."

"Yeah." A small smile appeared on her lips, one he was so happy to see that he leaned in and kissed it, hard.

Then he held up the note before Kate. "What happened?"

"Easier to show you."

A metal door lowered behind them, sealing them all in, and once again the Doctor found himself face to face with another painting.

It was done in oil this time, its origin human, but he did not much prefer it to the Time Lord art.

No one said a word. Clara's gaze was fully on Rose, who stared at the painting of his prior self, in period attire, alongside the Queen. Deep red splotches stained her cheeks.

"This way," said Kate, all business, as she pulled on the painting to reveal another door. "Welcome to the Under Gallery. This is where Elizabeth the First kept all art deemed too dangerous for public consumption."

Thrilled to have that painting out of sight, the Doctor crouched to scoop a handful of sand from the floor.

"Stone dust," he said, noting the long rows of sheet-draped stone statues.

Kate paused. "Is it important?"

"In twelve hundred years I've never stepped in anything that wasn't."

A strangled noise, and the Doctor turned to the woman who'd made it. "Oi, you. Osgood. Are you science-y?"

"Oh, er, well, er, yes." She came closer, cheeks flushing.

"Good. Thought so. I could tell, you know. You look smart."

She stared at him, mouth open, as he sifted his fistful of grit into her cupped palms. "Um, thank you. Really?"

"Get a team," interrupted Kate, her tone authoritative. "Analyse the stone dust. Inhaler!"

"Although," the Doctor went on thoughtfully, watching Osgood rush off, "her lab-coat sort of gave it away. Love a lab-coat. Quite science-y...oh, and Doctor-y, eh? Why have I never realised that?" He gave himself an appraising glance. "Rose, what do you think of me in a lab-coat? And a stethoscope, perhaps? Foxy and appropriate, I'd say; I wouldn't have to go about explaining myself all the time."

"Doctors only dress like that on telly," Rose informed him. "You could do scrubs, though."

Clara snorted, sharing a sly glance with his wife as they passed into another large room. "Oh, yes please. Get him some with little bananas."

"Or little bow-ties," replied Rose, and they burst into giggles.

The Doctor huffed. "They do so wear lab coats," he muttered to Suzy, as a glass case caught his eye. "Look, sweetheart." He bounced her a little as he poked a hand in the case. "A fez." Suzy stilled as he plopped it on her head, and reached a chubby hand up to touch it. "You look so pretty!"

Suzy smiled, and to his surprise, left the fez on. "Like father, like daughter," commented Rose, watching them with a fond smile.

His smile abruptly faded as they entered yet another room. All along the walls were paintings, more 3D art from his homeworld. The protective glass on all of them had been shattered, shards all over the floor.

A white-coated scientist rushed over to Kate. "As you instructed, nothing has been touched."

"This is why we called you in," Kate told the Doctor.

"3D again," added Clara.

"Interesting," he said, and caught the fez as Suzy squirmed, knocking it off her head.

Rose came over and Suzy whinged, reaching for her mother. "What's interesting?" asked Rose, as she took the baby from him and cuddled her.

"Look, love, at the shatter pattern. The glass on all these paintings has been broken from the inside."

"As you can see, all the paintings are landscapes," Kate added. "No figures of any kind."

The Doctor turned the fez over in his hands. "So?"

"There used to be." Kate handed him a tablet, one painting's original image displayed on the screen.

"Something's got out the paintings," breathed Clara, stealing the words from his mouth.

"Lots of somethings. Dangerous." The Doctor looked at Rose, who was humming quietly as she rocked their tired daughter. "Kate, do I need to get my family out of here?"

"Well." She drew out the word, considering. "This whole place has been searched. There's nothing here that shouldn't be, and nothing's got out."

Before he could process that his skin tingled, time-senses blaring a mauve-alert just before the air cracked in two.

A fogged-out memory began to clear. "Oh no, not now," he moaned.

The women were staring at the time fissure with wide eyes. "Doctor, what is it?" asked Clara, fear in her voice.

"No, not now," he repeated, glowering at the whirlpool-like rift. "I'm busy. Bloody h- my child is here."

Kate spoke up. "Is it to do with the paintings?"

"It's a tear in the fabric of time," answered Rose softly.

The Doctor went to his wife, put his hands on her and Suzy. "I remember this, Rose. Almost remember." He gazed at the fez in his hands, and the memory came into sharp focus. "Oh, of course. This is where I come in."

In one smooth movement, he tossed the fez through the fissure, watched it disappear before turning back to Rose. "This is fixed, love. Everything will be fine, but I need to go." His chin dipped, and he looked deep into her eyes. "Okay?"

With trust, Rose nodded, and a grin lit his face like a flash of light. "Geronimo!" he yelled, and leapt through the shimmering swirl.

"Oh, that is skinny," said the Doctor, giving his prior self a judgmental once-over as he picked himself up from the dirt. "And I mean proper skinny, blimey; been quite some time since I've seen it from the outside. It's like a special effect. Oi!"

The skinny one stared, the shock in his expressive brown eyes quickly giving way to comprehension... followed by pure annoyance.

Jumping forward, the Doctor knocked the fez from the Other's head. "Ha! Matchstick man."

"You're not," his old self shot back, reaching inside his coat. The Doctor mirrored his actions, and, in tandem, they produced their sonic screwdrivers.

His own was not only better, but loads bigger. Gleefully, the Doctor showed it off, extending the prongs.

"Compensating?" commented Ten.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "For what?"

"Regeneration. It's a lottery."

The Doctor scowled blackly, not much liking that implication. Especially as he wasn't entirely certain which of his forms actually was...superior. Rose would know, sang an evil little voice in his head.

His scowl deepened, and he flipped the screwdriver before re-pocketing it. "Oh, he's cool. Isn't he cool? I'm the Doctor and I'm all cool. Oops, I'm wearing sandshoes."

"What are you doing here? I'm busy." The other Doctor waved his sonic around.

"Oh, busy. I see. Is that what we're calling it, eh? Eh?" Plopping his fez on his head, he bowed to each Elizabeth in turn. "Hello, ladies."

Skinny huffed, snatching at his arm. "Don't start- look, one of them is a Zygon."

"Yet, somehow it doesn't put you off. Do you even realise how ridiculous you are? You've got to stop with all this stupid..." His hands flailed, grasping for the word he wanted, and then they both jumped as the time fissure broke open again with a swish.

"Your Majesties," said the younger Doctor slowly, "probably a good time to run."

Both Queens responded as one. "But what about the creature?"

"Elizabeth, whichever one of you is the real one, turn and run in the opposite direction to the other one."

They did so, but not without each bidding his prior self a nauseatingly soppy farewell (punctuated, of course, by wet kisses).

Hardly surprising, and although the Other did not seem to enjoy it in the slightest the Doctor was so disappointed in him. Disgusted too, enough that he sort of wanted to kick him. He settled for a reproachful glower.

The idiot ignored him, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, won't that be nice?"

"No," declared the Doctor, getting in his face. "It won't. You need to stop messing around with her or you'll regret it. More than you could possibly imagine."

The other man considered him, his readable eyes more curious than contrite. Straightening to his full height, the Doctor folded his arms and held his gaze, happy to take him on in a stare-down if it might help get his point across. But after only a few seconds the younger him shrugged, the spark of interest fading from his eyes as he glanced away.

Rassilon, that form was terrible at masking his emotions, thought the Doctor, taking in the tired eyes, the flat hair, the hopeless slump of his shoulders. Throat going unexpectedly tight, he swallowed hard, remembering all too keenly what it was like to be him.

What it was like to be utterly alone. Heartbroken. Mad. One of the worst times of his life was standing here before him, tall and weary and in the flesh. Grief and pity swelled the Doctor's chest.

Then he snorted a little, shaking his head. Blimey, it had been a while since he'd felt like this, properly sorry for himself.

"What's with the hair?" he asked, grasping for a reason to break the silence.

The Other sniffed. "The Queen's doing. Didn't think it was dignified, the usual way."

"Well, now it just looks stupid," he stated, catching himself before he could tack on a comment about how much Rose would hate it.

(Why did he care that Rose would hate it, again? This gave his current self the clear advantage in the hair competition, but... the idea of Rose potentially seeing it like that still bothered him. Somehow, he was not pleased to chance her remembering that hair as anything less than glorious.)

"Well," the other echoed sarcastically, "since I believed I was lulling a murderous creature from space into a false sense of security, I thought it a noble sacrifice. Honestly, you should know that, you're me! Don't you remember any of this?"

"It's coming back as it happens. Odd. Almost like bits of it are still in flux-"

"Doctor, is that you?"

Although a bit muffled as it came through the fissure's center, the voice and cadence were unmistakable. Rose.

Mentally warning her away, Doctor stole a glance at his other self to find him staring, agape, at the mar in the air. He looked dizzily stunned, as if the thing had just up and walloped him.

Oh, that was very not good.

Also not good- though their bond was intact Rose wasn't responding, nor could he feel any of the concern so evident in her voice- and he had no time to focus on that now.

"Ah, hello, Clara," the Doctor called back hastily, in an effort to throw him off the scent. "Can you hear me?"