“You can’t wear overalls to church!” Fiona snapped. She held two clothes hangers, one in each hand—the one in her right hand held a lilac colored dress with a lace collar, a baby chick on one breast, and polka dots on the skirt. The other held a pale pink sweater, blouse, and skirt set.
Both had been adamantly refused by six-year-old Kate, who stood with her arms crossed in one corner of the room. She wore a white-with-teal striped shirt under a pair of denim overalls.
“Daddy lets me,” Kate said simply.
Fiona concealed a groan.
Anytime she wanted something that Kate refused—daddy wouldn’t do that or daddy doesn’t mind.
“I don’t think your dad takes you to church that often, does he?”
They stared between each other some moments before Kate shook her head.
“Could you please change? We’re meant to meet your grandparents—”
“Get out!” Kate shoved her mum towards the door.
“So long as you get changed!” Fiona called as the door slammed in her face.
She went downstairs and sank down on the sofa with her head in her hands. It was—she didn’t want to say difficult, not when some of her friends had lived through worse—trying to raise her daughter alone.
Kate was stubborn and sharp-witted, often questioning the rules when she disagreed with them. Much as Fiona had been as a child.
“Mummy,” Kate’s voice was little more than a whisper, coming from the top of the stairs.
Fiona lifted her head and turned to see Kate standing there with one hand raised to her forehead, hives breaking out across her skin.
“Kate!” she rushed forward and met Kate at the base of the stairs, placing her hands on her daughter’s forearms. “What happened?”
She glanced down to see a juice box crushed in her daughter’s fist. “Kate…”
A few months prior, Kate had suddenly broken out in hives after a play date at a friend’s house, then again the following weekend when they were due at Fiona’s parents’ for their weekly dinner. Both times, Kate had been given juice when she asked for a drink—her friend’s parents didn’t know she was allergic to citrus and must have let her take some of the boxes home.
“I don’t want to go,” Kate said in a low voice.
Fiona sighed. “Alright. I’ll get you some medicine and we can stay home and watch telly.”
Kate moved to sit cross-legged on the sofa, scratching now and then at the bumps on her legs.
“Don’t do that, love,” Fiona said, draping a blanket over her daughter’s shoulders. “You’ll make it worse.”
She held out a plastic cup full of putrid purple liquid.
“Ew…”
“Little girls who give themselves allergic reactions either drink ucky medicine or go to hospital,” Fiona said gently. With a sigh, she added, “I wish you’d stop doing this.”
“I wish you’d stop making me wear dresses,” Kate countered. She took the cup and downed the medicine, face contorting as it tracked down her throat.
“You need to look presentable,” Fiona said, brushing hair from Kate’s forehead. “My beautiful little girl.”
“I don’t want to be beautiful.”
Fiona wrapped an arm around her daughter, kissed the top of her head, then leaned back and turned on the telly, flipping through the channels until they found something they both wanted.
It was late in the evening when Cee sat down beside her and took her hands in her own. “What’s going on, Katie? You’ve been… quiet, too quiet. Are things okay with John?”
“Hm?” Kate looked up from where she’d been picking at her cardigan. “Oh, yeah. Things are… fine.”
“Just fine?!” Cee stared at her wide-eyed. “Kate.”
“It’s just… John’s working a lot, more than he was before,” Kate started, picking her words carefully. “And… I’ve been sick much of the last few months.”
“I can’t imagine living on a boat helps,” Cee quipped.
Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No, it’s not—” she wrapped a hand over her stomach, fixing Cee with a firm stare.
Cee’s gaze flicked down to rest on Kate’s stomach. Eyes narrowed, then widened, and she leaned in to whisper, “no!”
Kate pressed her lips together as she nodded.
Gently, Cee placed a hand over Kate’s. “Are you okay?”
“Mm.”
“How long…?”
“Nearly five months. I’ll be finding out the sex in a couple weeks.”
“And John…?”
“We’re raising the baby together, living together on the boat.”
“It’s why you dropped out,” Cee said, her features hardening. “Oh, honey…”
Rumors had proliferated in the Academy regarding the Angels---that they worked for the mysterious Division, and worse: that to become one was one of the worst punishments set aside for unruly Time Lords.
For the longest time, the Doctor scoffed at such rumors. No one could truly contain a Time Lord in that manner; the very attempt to fossilize would trigger a regeneration, wouldn’t it?
Startled by a rush of wind, the Doctor turned her head and caught sight of herself in the mirror.
Her blood ran cold.
There, with stone hands hovering in front of her face, stood an Angel---shorter than the Doctor by a good inch or two, with medium-length, wavy hair and life-like eyes.
Don’t blink, the Doctor told herself.
“You don’t belong here!” she shouted, keeping her gaze level with it. “You---” she shook her head slightly, swallowed back a wave of bile, and continued, “You---why do… this is paradox sickness…”
Don’t go, the Angel thought. If you do, eventually, they’ll---
“You’ve got a message from your mum,” John said, giving Kate a kiss. “You should give it a listen.”
“Will do,” Kate moved over to the phone, watched the blinking light a moment, then lifted the receiver to her ear and played the message.
Hi, Kate, Fiona’s voice quivered slightly, it’s been a while, just wanted to check in—I’ve heard you dropped out, Kate narrowed her eyes—had her parents been talking?–and ‘ve been wondering what you’re up to these days.
--is that for Kate? Ingrid cut in.
Yes, love, her answering machine. She’s not at home.
I miss her.
I do, too.
Kate clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress a sob.
We’d love to see you again, Katie. It’s been too long. Give me a call back.
Kate had spent the past ten minutes watching her. “You're very adept at what you do, Ms. Sterling,” she said, arms folded over her chest.
With wide eyes, Artemis turned towards her, smiled, and said, “Call me Missy, please.”
A wry smile crossed Kate's lips. “Call me Kate.” She tapped the fingers of one hand against her arm and bit her lower lip.
"Delicate," a three-act fic set in an AU of season 7: Kate, having recruited Missy as a scientific officer, cannot help but fall in love. The first chapter can be found here.
