Pandora's Box: A Doctor Who Fanfic

He was scrambling around the console, trying to find a way to fix the problem. Smoke was emerging from the control panel, and no matter what buttons he pressed, the turbulence wouldn’t stop.

Even the hammer trick failed.

The Doctor was tossed around the console—as was anything else not nailed down already—and tumbled and tossed.

And finally, nothing.

The calm before the storm, he thought bitterly, getting up.

The lights were out, and nothing seemed to be working. He fished his sonic screwdriver out of his coat pocket, turning the setting to flashlight.

He stumbled his way over to the console, reaching out to touch it. And if not for the warning of sparks erupting from it, he probably would have been regenerating right now from electrocution.

He made his way over to the doors, stroking the TARDIS in worry. “What’s wrong, old girl?” he asked it.

Nothing. Not even the usual hum. She was sick.

He sighed in frustration, before pulling open the door, ready for anything that would come his way.

Well, this was something new.

He was lucky he didn’t step out, or else he would fall to his next regeneration.

About twenty stories below him was a garden, flowers beautifully in rows, vegetables growing on vines, artistically carved hedges here and there. And no one in sight.

And he was on one of the hedges, the tall, flat, hard green shrub keeping him and the TARDIS stable.

Getting down was going to be interesting. Seeing as how he couldn’t just pop in the TARDIS and get something like a ladder that he needed in the dark, let alone moving the TARDIS just twenty feet down.

He looked at the shrub, deducing it was a Gylian Art Shrub. Perfect for art, moulding any way that the artist wanted. Sort of like putty.

And perfect for making foot-pockets.

He turned on his stomach, his feet dangling out of the TARDIS as he kicked the shrub hard with his foot, preparing to make a sturdy pocket for his foot, so he could be able to climb down.

But the shrub was hard, and his foot felt like it had just kicked a bowling ball. He gasped in pain, muttering a few choice words in Gallifreyan, his legs dangling against the shrub, as his grip slipped a notch, until he grabbed the wall, his knuckles turning white as he pushed himself back up.

Of course, he realised, Gylian Art Shrubs were often glazed over, hardening so other artists wouldn’t be able to wreck the piece.

Just his luck.

He heard giggling from below. He looked down, but saw nothing. “Who is that, then?” he asked, still holding his foot.

A young woman stepped out from a nearby shrub, her hair up, taking off an apron that was full of green residue.

She had a wide grin on her face, very long auburn hair that cascaded below her shoulders, even though it was up. She had a wonderful smile, her round cheeks puffing a little as she did.

“I seem to be stuck up here…do you mind?” he asked, frowning when she started giggling again.

“Sorry, it’s just…” she started. “Here, why don’t I get you a ladder?”

“That would be very nice,” he replied, relived that the language translator still worked, at least.

She disappeared behind the other shrub again, before bringing a small-looking ladder. “Hold on a second!” she called, pressing a button on the side, the ladder rising up, stopping when she pressed the button again.

It was perfect, he mused, climbing down the steps. He turned back to her, noticing new details about her.

She seemed about early twenties, her auburn hair really a lighter red. She had very pretty eyes, violet, with one dimple on her left side as she smiled. And she wouldn’t stop giggling!

“I’m sorry, it’s just…well, I do get a lot of tourists, but you’re the first one with such a… unique entrance.” She giggled again.

“My ship crashed,” he defended. “I didn’t intend to land so high.”

He looked up, seeing his TARDIS perched flat on a juplo’s back. A juplo was an animal much like a horse, except it had a flat back, which people could lay down on.

“Did you make all these?” he asked.

“Well,” she started. “Not really. Only four are my creations. It’s the gardens are mine, really.”

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around.

The girl scoffed. “You mean you didn’t come here on purpose? I am hurt.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—where are we?”

She laughed, smiling. “It’s all right,” she said. “I was being sarcastic. We are at the Healing Gardens, of course,” she explained.

“Oh,” he scanned the room, taking in the harmonious scenery. “Wait, The Healing Gardens? The intergalactic renowned relaxing and tranquil spa, art museum and all-natural clinic?”

“Intergalactic?” she laughed. “Hardly. I’ve only started, though many travelers have started to come by. And I am not a doctor, so it is not a clinic. But yes, all the others you have described are correct. It is a peaceful spa, and also as you have experienced, an art museum.”

She giggled again.

He mulled over the world and era. “Healing Gardens…that’s in the…Mearth Galaxy, right?”

“You don’t know what galaxy you’re in?” she asked, incredulously.

“I told you, my ship crashed,” he defended.

“Yes, then, you are correct. You must be far from home.”

“And the year?” he asked.

“20051. You don’t even know the year? How long have you been on that ship?”

“Honestly? I have no idea,” he replied.

“You obviously don’t get out much,” she laughed.

“You have no idea.” She really didn’t.

“In any case,” she said, her voice businesslike. “I am Emelise Zabelle, founder of the Healing Gardens.” She bowed her head, a custom of greeting.

“I’m the Doctor,” he bowed his head at her, their foreheads meeting gently as custom.

“Is there anything I can assist you with, then?” Emelise asked.

“Well…I would like to fix my ship and get it running again,” he replied.

“Oh! Okay! I know just the person!” she walked him over toward the hedge she had been working on when he had landed. “Pandy!”

“Coming!” shouted another girl’s voice, muffled.

After a few seconds, another girl stepped out, a smock around her waist, green shrub-mould on it, and also on her white gloves. She looked very young, a teenager, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. She had dark brown hair, pulled back into something that resembled a French braid. She was a head shorter than Emelise, and seemed like the younger version of her, only with extraordinary eyes.

Her eyes were a blue-green, bright aqua, with a violet ring surrounding them. And they were not contacts.

“Yeah?” asked the girl ‘Pandy.’

“This man has a broken ship,” Emelise started. “Do you think you could fix it?”

“Now, that’s not really necessary,” the Doctor started. “I only need a few spare parts, really—”

“Now, Doctor, you’re a guest here,” Emelise started. “And Pandy’s a very good mechanic, so please. It’ll be free of charge.”

“It’s no problem,” the girl explained, looking at the TARDIS fondly. “Just show me where the circuit breaker is and I’ll get her started up in a minute! And I’ll even fix the chameleon circuit for you.”

“That’s really—what?” asked the Doctor. “How’d you…?”

“Well, it’s in the shape of the police box! I mean, who would build a ship in the form of a police box! Obviously there was something wrong with the chameleon circuit. So, what do you say?”

This girl was sharp, brilliant, even. And her eyes…well, her eyes were a mystery. He wanted to get to know her better, because the curious man he was, a mystery was just too good to pass up.

He stuck out a hand to her. “I’m the Doctor.”

She removed her gloves and extended her hand, shaking his firmly.

“Pandora Zabelle.” She grinned at him. “Pleased to meet you, Doc.”

----------

Pandora turned out to be a very…unique and mysterious girl. And the Doctor liked it, and also found it a little unsettling at the same time.

After the two sisters called in a crane to lift the TARDIS down from on top of the juplo-shrub, Pandora got to work, under the Doctor’s supervision, of course.

After a few seconds, he noticed what she was doing, and frowned.

“No, no. You have to cross the red wire with that yellow and black one and plug it in over there.” He pointed the sonic screwdriver at a small socket in the wire panel, as if a blue laser pointer.

“No,” Pandora protested, calmly, sweetly and confidently. She plugged it into the socket she had been going to initially.

Power and light flooded the TARDIS, and once again he heard her gentle hum. To say he was impressed was an understatement. No one in years had corrected him when it came to mechanics of his own ship.

“That’s your energy conversion catalyser plug,” Pandora explained, wheeling herself out of the wire panel. “You put those wires in there you get a power overload. That’s probably why it short-circuited in the first place.”

“So, what, you’re like the mechanic and the artist around here?” the Doctor asked, watching with wonder as she dusted her hands off.

“Sort of,” Pandora replied, shrugging. “I just…well, for engines, it just feels like they talk to me sometimes. You know, you just know when something’s wrong and when it doesn’t want to work as hard and when ya gotta go easy on her.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he told her. He did; often the TARDIS would send him her feelings, telepathically. Sometimes telling him she needed to just take a break, or that she didn’t like a passenger, or just telling him he was being very annoying.

“Not like yours, though,” Pandora replied. “I mean, she’s a real beauty, but she ain’t that easy to be read. You really have to work hard to keep her happy and running. Kinda like a woman when you think about it.”

He smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. How many hours (years!) had he spent working on the TARDIS?

She walked over to another wire panel and knelt down by it, unscrewing it with a sonic screwdriver of her own—mind you, not as sophisticated as his, he thought, but still it was sonic—her gaze fixed on the panel, until it came off. She turned to him, grinning and proud.

He had offered her to use his, but she insisted she used her own, because it was, as she said, hers. Besides, it gave her more of a challenge.

“So, what do you do, then?” she asked, once again ducking her whole upper body into the wire panel. “Besides travel, I mean.”

“Well…nothing else, really. I dunno, sometimes things find me, you know? Sometimes bad things, sometimes good things. Not that I mind, though. And, I dunno, I just…help people I guess.”

“Yeah?” she asked, as she clicked two wires together. Sparks flew and she gasped in pain. He was going to ask her if she was all right, when Pandy continued. “So, can I ask what mission you’re on?”

“Mission?”

“Oh, right,” he could practically hear her rolling her eyes in the tone she spoke. “I forgot you guys are all like…‘shh, it’s a secret’ and all that.”

“What?” he asked, puzzled.

“We get you guys all the time. Not telling us what they’re doing, who they are, just popping in and out of here all the time. So secretive.”

“Who?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Time Agents!”

Of course, now it clicked in. She wasn’t as brilliant as he had thought (well, maybe); she was just used to Time Agents. Though she still was one hell of a mechanic. And artist.

“Oh, I’m not—well, actually I was at one time—long story—but I’m not a Time Agent.”

“Oh,” she frowned, sighing in frustration at her own rudeness. “Sorry, then. My mis. Hope I wasn’t too rude.”

“No, that’s fine. You’re not ginger,” he grinned.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Never mind. Inside joke,” he replied, putting a hand behind the back of his head.

“Ah,” she said, continuing to mess with the wires. “So, what are you, then? I mean, are you a time traveller?”

“Well…”

“I mean, it’s obvious you are. Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to take me to like 15670 or anything. And I won’t tell if that’s what you’re worried about.” She smiled, the smile evident in her voice. “So, what are you then? You know, travelling around. Or is that just it?”

“Pretty much.” he said. “What about you? Do you work here or are you in charge?”

“Nah. I do everything for free and for fun,” she said. “I mean, I just…help people, I guess.”

He grinned. “So what got you and your sister started then?” he asked her.

“Well,” she said, with a little bit of stress as she pulled two wires together. “We lost our parents when we were little. The community took us in until Emelise was old enough to live out on her own, with me. We wanted to do something to help the community, give something back to them, you know? And, well, they were always so stressed from work and all, they never got a vacation. We figured that’s what they needed; a vacation. But there ain’t a place to go on vacation because everywhere is just work and homes. So, we opened this place. My sister always had a knack for gardening, and she’s a good businesswoman, and I just paint and help people. You on vacation, Doc?”

“Not really,” the Doctor said. “Sort of…just crashed here, really. And when I do go on vacation things always have a habit of finding me. Tell you, I had a friend once who whenever we went to on vacation, we’d end up either having to run back here and escape or having to save the world from an evil thing. I always used to tell her she was jeopardy friendl—” he stopped, realizing who he was talking about.

Rose.

It was still hard, the loss of her. Where was she, now? He wondered. Was she still in Torchwood, taking the slow path in life? Was she married? Did she have kids? Grandkids? But the real question was: did she ever move on?

He didn’t; he continued living the same life he had always lived, filled with adventure and near-death experiences, but there was a large part that was empty. The laughter, the easiness, the inside jokes, the flirting. Her.

It was like when he had lost Sarah-Jane, only different. No, it was more like when he lost Susan.

“So,” he started, much more lighter, dropping the subject. “You familiar with Time Agents, then?”

She smiled. “More than a little.”

He noticed she didn’t say much after that. He recognized the ‘fond hating’ of Time Agents. Perhaps she had a brother or a sister or a close relative in the Agency.

“So, you want your chameleon circuit fixed, then?” she asked, pointing her old-fashioned sonic screwdriver at a small box.

“Nah,” he replied. “I like it the way it is.”

“Really?” she grinned. “And you wonder why the things find you! You stick out like a sore thumb! And look at those! Trainers with the suit?”

“I happen to like them, thank you very much.” He mocked-anger at her.

“Different strokes, I guess, right?” she shrugged.

“Sly in the Family Stone?”

“Who in the what?” she asked.

“1970s…never mind,” he sighed, a little frustrated. “So, all set then?”

“Yep,” Pandora replied. “Should be all set. Your ship needs a little time to recalibrate, but it’ll only be a few hours. After that you’ll be ready to go!”

“Thank you, so much!” he grinned. “You know, you’re good.” Only a few wires had misplaced in the crash, some frying in the process. He could have been able to do it himself, but…a fifteen-year-old two-hundred-and-first century human girl doing all that? He was very impressed. And she even corrected him.

“Well, you did help, you know, showing me where all the stuff was,” she shrugged. “I guess we make a good team!”

He grinned, walking toward the TARDIS doors, extending his arm which she took, linking hers with his.

“So,” she continued. “Can I interest you in a relaxing scent-treat? Tour of the gardens…I dunno. You seem like you would like a vacation.”

“Nah, I…you’ve done too much already.” he said. He didn’t know whether he liked her or not; his mind was still wrapped around the fact how she had corrected him.

“Okay. If you’re sure,” she smiled at him again. “If you want you can stay here a spell. Folks out there have never really seen an alien. Time Agents always just come in here. First time an Agent came they got very upset till the government ruled it all hoax. So, feel free to roam the gardens, use anything you want.”

“Kay. Thanks,” he replied. Sort of like Earth, he mused.

“Anyway. I’m off to finish my grips—” dog “so, then see you!” She skipped off, quite literally, back to the shrub where she had emerged from initially.

He wandered the gardens, admiring all the different plants. After about a half-hour, he sat on the ledge of a fountain, lost in thought. It was pretty relaxing here, he thought.

“Enjoying the scenery?” Emelise sat next to him, smiling.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Quite a lovely place. Love the gardens. Fantastic art.”

“Yeah,” Emelise replied, smiling, then nodding toward the direction Pandora was. “Quite the artist, ain’t she? She loves to sculpt animals.”

“Yes, they’re very beautiful. She’s a very brilliant girl. Smarter than most fifteen year olds, I’d say.”

Emelise didn’t smile. “She went to the Academy when she was thirteen.”

“The Academy?”

“It’s a school for the gifted,” she explained. “She went there, but she hated it. When we were raised by the village they thought it would be a good idea for her to be in place that was intellectually challenging. But it wasn’t what she wanted.”

“What did she want?”

“To have fun. To do everything without anyone telling her to, or how to do it. Everything she’s done for us and for the community are all volunteer. She doesn’t want to be hired. I’ve tried to even give her some kind of money, to show her the importance of a coin for when she’s living on her own, but she wants no part of it. She despises money.”

“Same here.” He thought back to all those times he had to rig the ATM machines with his sonic screwdriver on Earth. He missed Gallifrey; they had no money. Everything they did was for the better of the people.

“I don’t know what to do with her sometimes! I’m the only one to take care of her, but when I’m gone I’m afraid she’s going to live out on the street. And even when I’m still around she has no incentive, at least none that I can give her. She just wants to do everything on her own, you know?”

“I’ll tell you what, she’s very smart. Perhaps she’d make a great leader someday. Regardless of pay. A true people person.” He grinned.

Emelise sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes—wait, why am I complaining to you? You must think I whine too much.”

“It’s fine,” the Doctor replied. “It’s not good to keep your emotions bottled up for such a long time. Besides, I do know how sisters can be sometimes.”

She smiled. “Well, would you like anything? I was just going to go inside and make a nice cuppa—”

She stopped, her sentence interrupted because at that moment the whole Gardens shook, violently. Nothing was damaged or fell over, since it was all nailed down tight.

Still, the Doctor was thrown off the fountain, as was Emelise, knocking her head hard onto the ground. Pandora was thrown back a good five feet, her materials propelling through the air, now dangerous projectiles.

And then finally the earthquake stopped. Everything seemed calm.

“What was that?” the Doctor asked Emelise, standing up. But it was apparent that she didn’t know.

“I…I don’t know. We’ve never had anything happen like that before,” she replied. She turned quickly to the gardens, searching. “Pandora!”

“Right here!” called Pandora’s muffled voice. She got up, walking over toward them. smiling. “Perfect ten on the scale.”

“I know,” Emelise smiled back, relief evident in her voice. She turned back toward the Doctor. “I guess we better go and see, then.”

She headed toward the door of the Gardens, starting to open it. “No, no, Pandy, you stay here.”

“I wanna see, though!” Pandora protested. “You never let me—”

“You’re too young—” started Emelise, as Pandora was mouthing it sarcastically with her. “Don’t give me that.”

“Come on,” Pandora again protested. “It’s not like it’s the end of the world, Emmy. Besides, if it’s a problem, it’d be better with more people. If one of us goes we’re in it together.”

“That’s the spirit!” the Doctor grinned. “Come on.”

“All right, fine!” Emelise threw her hands in the air.

They unlocked the door to the gardens, stepping out into an open street, into the unknown, arm in arm.

Another adventure, perhaps.