trigger warnings: none that i can think of ??

*

MJ has no idea how to dress for the future, so she just sort of has to guess.

At breakfast this morning, the Doctor declared they were taking Adam to the future. When in the future? MJ has no idea. He didn't specify. She decides to go with a simple, sleek look — black jeans, a white racerback tank top, and a bright purple leather jacket with a pair of combat boots. She puts her hair up in a bun, swipes lip gloss on, and then she's all ready for the day.

MJ opens her door just as Rose is walking past, so the girls head to the console room side-by-side. The Doctor's in there by himself, Adam nowhere to be seen. A part of MJ hopes it stays that way. She really doesn't get why Rose wants him along. Isn't she dating Mickey? Why does she need Pretty Boy around?

"So, when are we going?" Rose asks, grinning at the Doctor. She jabbed her finger at him with a little playful narrowing of her eyes. "And don't just say the future."

"How about this?" the Doctor asks. "When we get there, us three will pop out first, tell Adam we need to make sure everything's safe, and I'll fill you in on where and when we are so you can impress the pretty boy."

Rose nods. "Deal."

MJ sidles up to the Doctor, bumping her hip into his playfully. "You're a pretty boy too, you know."

"Yeah, right," he scoffs. "You're just tryin' to butter me up so I pay for everything."

"Okay, A," she says, "I'm a broke college drop-out. You're a nine-hundred-year-old Time Lord who's apparently had a steady job with UNIT for at least a couple of decades. I think it goes without saying that you should be paying for everything. And B..." She grabs his chin and yanks his face toward hers. "I'm not trying to butter you up. I'm making an observation, and my word is final."

He shakes his head, the tips of his ears pink. "Now you're just flirting."

MJ's hand falls to her side. She takes a step back, folding her arms over her chest. Her attempt at an easygoing smile comes off more like a grimace. "Definitely not, Doc. I don't flirt with anyone and no one flirts with me. That's one of the rules of the universe."

"Funny," the Doctor says, hitting a button. "I could've sworn you've been flirting with me this entire time."

Heat floods her cheeks. "What? No! No, I haven't!"

"Really?" The Doctor frowns and flicks a switch. "That's awkward. Because I'm pretty sure I've been flirting with you."

Before MJ can say anything else or even just register his words, he throws a lever and sends them hurtling into flight.

*

"We'll be just a tick," the Doctor assures Adam before Rose closes the TARDIS door behind them. He looks around, then leans in conspiratorially. "So, it's 200,000, it's a spaceship...No, wait a minute, space station. And, er...go try that gate over there! Off you go!"

"200,000?" Rose asks as the Doctor leans against the TARDIS, arms crossed over his chest.

MJ is running her fingers along the giant silver five tacked on the wall. Does this mean they're on the fifth floor? Or is the station numbered, like Platform One? Is this Platform Five?

"200,000," the Doctor confirms with a brilliant smile.

"Right," Rose says. She opens the door. "Adam! Out you come."

Adam walks out of the TARDIS with his eyes wide and mouth ajar. "Oh my God."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," Rose tells him.

He seems to hardly hear her, too busy gaping at their surroundings. "Where are we?"

"Let's see," Rose says, winking at MJ before slipping into 'expert' mode. "So, um...judging by the architecture, I'd say we're around the year 200,000."

"Uh-huh, yeah," Adam says. Gods, he looks like a fucking moron with his mouth open like that. It just makes him look a hundred times more punchable.

"And if you listen..." Rose pauses for dramatic effect. "Engines. We're on some sort of space station. Yeah, definitely a space station. It's a bit warm in here, they could turn the heating down."

MJ hums in agreement, adjusting the collar of her jacket. It's already starting to cling to her skin with sweat.

"Tell you what," Rose says, "let's try that gate. Come on."

She leads them through a metal gate and up a short flight of stairs. They arrive in what must be an observation deck. In front of them is a massive window, showing a planet that looks a hell of a lot like Earth.

"And this is..." Rose trails off as she realizes she's come to the end of her knowledge. Her smile turns a bit sheepish. "I'll let the Doctor describe it."

"The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire," the Doctor introduces. He slips his hand into MJ's. "And there it is. Planet Earth, at its height. Covered with mega-cities, five moons, population ninety-six billion, the hub of a galactic domain stretching across a million planets, a million species with mankind right in the middle."

Adam promptly faints.

"He's your boyfriend," the Doctor teases, eyes still on the Earth outside.

Rose doesn't look away from the incredible view either. "Not anymore."

MJ leans into the Doctor's side. "Maybe we should just throw Adam's unconscious body back in the TARDIS and go on an adventure without him."

"Wow," the Doctor laughs. "You really don't like him."

"We're perfect just the way we are," MJ says, sticking her nose in the air. "Just the three of us."

Rose has the audacity to pout. "Oh, c'mon, MJ. Just give 'im a chance."

"This was his chance," MJ says. "He blew it. So let's just lock him in the TARDIS before he can humiliate himself any further, yeah?"

Rose's pout deepens. MJ sighs, shoulders slumping. She knows a losing fight when she sees one. She leaves the Doctor's side to grab Adam by the front of his shirt with one hand and haul him to his feet. With her free hand, she slaps him. Adam startles awake and immediately tries to push her off him.

She releases him with a vicious smile. "You are so lucky that Rose thinks you're cute."

He blinks at her. "What?"

MJ rolls her eyes. The Doctor inserts himself between them, putting his arms around their shoulders.

"This way," he says, leading them down a hallway. Rose keeps in step with them. "Come on, Adam, open your mind. You're gonna like this, fantastic period of history, the human race at its most intelligent. Culture! Art! Politics! This era has got fine food, good manners, the works..."

"Out the way!" someone barks, pushing past.

MJ's eyebrows practically shoot into her hairline as a market of sorts springs to life around them. Food stalls are set up with impressive efficiency. People push past to get into the queues. The food comes out almost comically fast, but the people in line are still impatient, trying to shove their way to the front.

Rose and MJ eye the food in the cases skeptically. None of it looks even remotely appetizing.

Rose looks back at the Doctor, frowning. "Fine cuisine?"

"My watch must be wrong," the Doctor says. His brow is furrowed and MJ feels the sudden urge to smooth the crease with her thumb. He checks his watch. "No, it's fine. That's weird."

"That's what comes of showing off," Rose teases. "Your history's not as good as you thought it was."

"My history is perfect," the Doctor says, offended.

"Well, obviously not," Rose retorts cheekily.

MJ folds her arms over her chest, an odd feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. Something about all of this feels...wrong. Really, really wrong. Maybe she's just being paranoid, or maybe it's demigod instinct telling her something bad's afoot.

"They're all human," Adam points out. "What about the millions of planets, millions of species, where are they?"

"Good question," the Doctor says. He does a double-take. "Actually, that is a good question." Suddenly cheery, the Doctor wraps his arm around Adam's shoulders. "Adam, me old mate, you must be starving!"

"No, I'm just a bit time-sick," Adam says.

"Nah, you just need a bit of grub," the Doctor insists. He walks up to the nearest vendor, forcing Adam to come with him. "Oi, mate! How much is a kronkburger?"

MJ snorts. A kronkburger? What, is it named after the guy from Emperor's New Groove?

"Two credits twenty, sweetheart," the vendor says a bit snidely. "Now, join the queue!"

The Doctor just grins. "Money. We need money." He takes off, leaving MJ, Rose, and Adam with no choice but to follow. Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, he adds, "Let's use a cash point."

He leads them to a terminal, sonics it, and then the terminal spits out a metal strip. The Doctor passes it to Adam. "There you go, pocket money. Don't spend it all on sweets."

"Well, how does it work?" Adam asks, turning the strip over in his hands.

The Doctor is already walking away, hand grabbing MJ's to pull her along, but he stops to exclaim, "Go and find out, stop nagging me! The thing is, Adam, time travel's like visiting Paris. You can't just read the guidebook, you gotta throw yourself in. Eat the food, use the wrong verbs, get charged double, and end up kissing complete strangers."

MJ shakes her head at him, trying and failing to suppress an amused smile. Rose is openly laughing.

The Doctor's eyes dart between MJ and Rose, a glimmer of mirth twinkling in the blue. "Or is that just me?" He gestures for Adam to get a move on. "Stop asking questions, go and do it!"

Adam walks off. Before Rose can follow, the Doctor calls after her, "Off you go, then. Your first date."

"You're gonna get a smack, you are," Rose tells him, grinning.

The Doctor's matching grin lasts as long as it takes Rose to turn the corner. As soon as she's out of sight, his expression fades into something much more thoughtful.

MJ squeezes his hand lightly. "Shall we investigate?"

The Doctor perks up, beaming at her. "I think we shall!"

*

They wander for only a few minutes before the Doctor tugs MJ over to two women — one white with shoulder-length brown hair and the other Black, her reddish hair in tight beaded braids. They're both dressed nicer than almost everyone else at the market.

"Um, this is gonna sound daft," the Doctor says, "but can you tell me where we are?"

"Floor 139," the Black woman says, pointing to giant lettering on the wall. "Could they write it any bigger?"

"Yes, but Floor 139 of what?" MJ asks.

The Black woman's eyes flicker over MJ and the Doctor, lingering on their clasped hands. "Must've been a hell of a party."

"Oh, you're on Satellite Five," the white woman chimes in. Ah. That would explain the giant five on the wall.

"What's Satellite Five?" the Doctor asks next.

The Black woman eyes them warily. "Come on, how could you get on board without knowing where you are?"

"Look at me, I'm stupid!" the Doctor says lightly. Gesturing with his head to MJ, he adds, "Not her, though. She's a genius."

"Dumb enough to let you lead," MJ teases. The Doctor's smile just widens, and he gives her hand a quick squeeze.

"Hold on, wait a minute," the white woman says. "Are you two a test? Some sort of management test kind of thing?"

"You've got us," the Doctor says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wallet containing nothing but a blank piece of white paper. "Well done. You're too clever for us. She's my colleague, Miss MJ Winslow."

The paper must look different to the two women because neither one points out that it's blank. Instead, their backs straighten as if they truly believe the Doctor and MJ are authority figures.

"We were warned about this in basic training," the white woman says. "All workers have to be versed in company promotion."

"Right," the Black woman says. "Fire away, ask your questions." She flips her braids over her shoulder. "If it gets me to Floor 500, I'll do anything."

"Why, what happens on Floor 500?" the Doctor asks.

The Black woman's eyes glitter. "The walls are made of gold. And you should know, Mr. and..." She trails off, looking MJ over once more. "Ms. Management." Slipping into business mode, she says, "So, this is what we do."

She walks away, leaving a silent command to follow in her wake. The white woman stays put for a moment, just smiling at them, and they smile back, though MJ's is a bit strained. Then all three of them follow the Black woman (MJ really needs to ask their names because referring to them by their races is getting weirdly exhausting) over to a wall of screens, each tuned into a different channel.

"Latest news..." The Black woman checks the screens. "Sandstorms on the new Venus archipelago. Two hundred dead. Glasgow water riots in their third day...spacelane 37 closed by sunspot activity. And over on the Bad Wolf channel, the Face of Boe has just announced he's pregnant."

"Aw, good for him!" MJ coos. She may have only met the Face of Boe once, but he'd told her they were old friends, and for some reason, she believed him. And, well, she always likes to see her friends thrive.

The Doctor spares her a brief, warm smile before turning his attention back to their new acquaintances. "I get it. You broadcast the news."

"We are the news," the Black woman corrects. "We're the journalists. We write, package it, and sell it. Six hundred channels, all coming out of Satellite Five, broadcasting everywhere. Nothing happens in the whole Human Empire without going through us."

"That sounds..." MJ trails off. Her eyes land on a screen just a split second before the headline changes to 'Annual Summit of Demigods and Magicians Postponed Following Terrorist Attack.' MJ's breath hitches in her throat. The annual summit of demigods and magicians? What does it mean by 'magicians?' And it's just being reported on a normal human news channel? Does the entire world know about magic and monsters in the year 200,000? And what terrorist attack? What happened? Are there demigod terrorists?

Wait. Is Luke technically a terrorist?

MJ's startled out of her thoughts by the sound of an alarm. It must signal the end of a break because everyone in the canteen scatters. As the crowd dissipates, Adam and Rose become easily visible, sitting at a circular metal table covered in mostly uneaten food. MJ frowns. What a waste.

"Oi!" the Doctor calls out to them. "Mutt and Jeff! Over here!"

Rose immediately gets up and comes over, bringing her drink with her, but Adam lingers. His back is turned to her, so she can't see what he's doing exactly, but it looks like he pockets something. Probably just the credit stick the Doctor had given him. Yeah, that makes sense. Still, MJ can't shake the feeling that something's just a bit off about Adam. She can't wait until this trip is over and they drop him back home, never to be seen or heard from ever again.

"Ladies, these are our colleagues, Rose and Adam," the Doctor introduces as soon as Adam joins them. "Rose, Adam, this is..."

"Cathica," the Black woman finishes. "And she's Suki."

Oh, thank the gods.

"Would you like to see us in action?" Cathica asks.

MJ nods. "Yes, please."

"This way, then," Cathica says, gesturing to her right.

She takes off, Suki at her side. The Doctor, Rose, MJ, and Adam follow her into a hexagonal room with gray walls. In the center of the room is a chair surrounded by a hexagonal console at which Suki and several others sit. But the console has no screens or keyboards, just hand pads in front of each employee. Above them is an odd device that, at first glance, just looks like a futuristic light fixture, but the more MJ looks at it, the more apparent it becomes that it's some sort of concentrator.

MJ, her friends, and Adam stand behind one of two metal railings. MJ's not entirely sure what the point of the metal railings is because it's not like they're any real barrier between them and the rest of the room. The railing can easily be walked around. It's not like it's on a raised platform, either. It's on the same level as the rest of the room. It's absolutely baffling to her. They're completely illogical, and so she hates them. She hates the metal railings so much.

"Now, everybody behave," Cathica orders. "We have a management inspection." She looks at the Doctor. "How do you want it? By the book?"

"Right from scratch, thanks," the Doctor says.

Since he's not holding MJ's hand anymore, he's got both of his stuffed into his pockets. MJ has her arms crossed over her chest, eyes flickering between the people at the console and the stupid metal railing. Seriously, why does it exist? It accomplishes nothing. Nothing! She's so irritated by the existence of the useless railing that she almost misses the smirk Rose and the Doctor share.

"Okay," Cathica says. "So, ladies, gentlemen, multisex, undecided, or robot, my name is Cathica Santini Khadeni." Turning to the Doctor and MJ, she adds, "That's Cathica with a C, in case you wanna write to Floor 500, praising me, and please do."

The Doctor hesitates, then nods. That seems to satisfy Cathica.

"Now, please feel free to ask any questions," she tells them. "The process of news gathering must be open, honest, and beyond bias. That's company policy."

"Actually, um, it's the law," Suki speaks up with an awkward smile.

Cathica's customer service smile falls. "Yes, thank you, Suki." She rolls her shoulders. "Okay, keep it calm. Don't show off for the guests. Here we go."

Cathica lays down on the chair in the center. Hands firmly on the armrests, she says, "And...engage safety."

The other employees hold their hands above their hand pads as the walls light up. Cathica snaps her fingers and then something horrible happens — a metal door opens in her forehead, revealing her brain. MJ bites back a disgusted gasp. This woman has a hole in her forehead. She has a hole in her forehead deep enough to show her brain. Oh gods, that's awful. MJ's stomach roils at the sight.

The employees place their hands on the pads. Cathica counts down, "And three...two...and spike!"

From the odd device hanging overhead beams down a blue light directly into Cathica's brain. MJ can't help but gag. She wonders if it feels anything like brain zaps. She's never experienced brain zaps herself, but she remembers one summer, poor Zelda had trouble getting more of her antidepressants. She was forced to quit cold turkey and ended up suffering from antidepressant withdrawal syndrome. She was nauseous, feverish, and could hardly sleep. She got bad headaches and tremors, but worst of all, she said, was the brain zaps that felt like her brain was getting intermittently poked by a cattle prod.

Whatever Cathica's feeling, it can't be pleasant, even if she does look perfectly peaceful with her eyes closed.

"Compressed information," the Doctor explains, "streaming into her. Reports from every city, every country, every planet, and they all get packaged inside her head. She becomes part of the software. Her brain is the computer!"

"If it all goes through her, she must be a genius," Rose says.

"Nah, she wouldn't remember any of it," the Doctor says. He walks out from behind the metal railing, effectively proving its uselessness. Rose trails after him as he approaches the employees on the hand pads. "There's too much. Her head would blow up. The brain's the processor. Soon as it closes, she forgets."

"Bet you could handle it," Rose jokes weakly, flashing MJ an attempt at a cheeky smile.

MJ shudders. "No, thank you." She gestures to the others. "So, what about them? What part do they play in all of this?"

"They've all got tiny little chips in their heads connecting them to her, and they transmit six hundred channels," the Doctor says. "Every single fact in the Empire beams out of this place." He completes his lap around the room and leans against MJ's nemesis, the railing, with a forced casualness. "Now, that's what I call power."

"You alright?" Rose asks Adam, returning to his side.

"I can see her brain," Adam says.

Rose wrinkles her nose in concern. "Do you wanna get out?"

"No, but this..." Adam grips the railing, leaning forward for a better look. "This technology, it's...it's amazing."

MJ balks. White-hot anger flashes in her chest. "Amazing? Are you fucking insane? She has a door to her fucking brain in her forehead! That's not amazing, it's barbaric!"

The Doctor nods in agreement. "This technology's wrong."

"Trouble?" Rose asks, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah," the Doctor says with a grin.

MJ hears an odd noise. Her eyes land on Suki, whose brow has furrowed ever so slightly. A few seconds tick by, and then Suki pulls her hands away from the pad with a gasp as if she's been shocked. The others disengage as the lights flick off and the door in Cathica's head closes.

"Come off it, Suki, I wasn't even halfway," Cathica complains. She gets to her feet, scowling. "What was that for?"

"Sorry," Suki says, pushing her hair back. "It must've been a glitch."

A noise like the kind the elevator makes when it arrives sounds overhead, and a feminine voice announces, "Promotion."

On one of the walls, a projection appears. It's just a blue screen with the word promotion in all caps flashing at the top.

"Come on, this is it, come on!" Cathica pleads. "God, make it me." She clasps her hands together and squeezes her eyes shut as if praying. "Come on, say my name, say my name, say my name."

MJ grimaces. Someone's certainly been drinking the Floor 500 Kool-Aid. Though, the Jonestown massacre actually used Flavor-Aid, not Kool-Aid. So it would be more historically accurate to say Cathica's been drinking the Floor 500 Flavor-Aid, but then no one would get the reference, or they'd be like, "Don't you mean Kool-Aid?" and then it becomes a whole thing and—

Anyway, the promotion isn't for Cathica. It's for...

"Suki Macrae Cantrell," the feminine voice says. "Please proceed to Floor 500."

"I can't believe it!" Suki gushes, getting to her feet and walking over to the screen displaying her name. "Floor 500!"

"How the hell did you manage that?" Cathica demands. "I'm above you!"

"I don't know, I just applied on the off chance," Suki says. She turns around to face Cathica, positively beaming. "And they've said yes!"

"So not fair," Cathica grouses. "I've been applying to Floor 500 for three years."

"What's Floor 500?" Rose asks quietly.

The Doctor stares at Suki's name on the wall, his expression hard to read but definitely not pleased. "The walls are made of gold."

MJ's skin crawls. She heads for the door and her friends (and Adam) follow her, listening as she talks mostly to herself. "But you can't build with gold. It's too soft, heavy, and weak. Not to mention expensive."

"It's 200,000," Adam reminds her as they emerge into the canteen. He looks a bit out of it, but she's sure she doesn't look much better. "They could've invented or discovered a new form of gold that's suitable for building."

"Yeah, maybe," MJ says, fanning herself absentmindedly. She hadn't even noticed how marginally cooler the 'news' room was until she was back in the oppressive heat of the canteen. Do they not have air conditioning in 200,000? Not important. Or maybe it is.

She's probably just overthinking things again. She's almost definitely just overthinking things again. But something about Floor 500 and its golden walls feels...familiar. It reminds her of something. She just can't quite put her finger on it.

*

"Cathica, I'm gonna miss you," Suki gushes.

MJ, Rose, and the Doctor had come with Cathica to see Suki off to Floor 500. Adam is close by, leaning on one of the abandoned food stalls.

Suki looks at MJ and the Doctor, smiling wide. "Floor 500. Thank you."

"We didn't do anything," the Doctor says.

"Well, you're my lucky charms," Suki says brightly.

The Doctor shrugs. "Alright, I'll hug anyone."

He hugs Suki, both of them laughing, and MJ feels something, a prickle on the back of her neck, that she chooses to ignore. Cathica rolls her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. As Rose goes over to check on Adam, Suki releases the Doctor and turns to MJ expectantly.

"What?" MJ asks defensively, frowning.

Suki's grin doesn't falter. "Can I hug you too?"

MJ's eyes widen comically. "Oh, um...yeah, sure."

She awkwardly hugs Suki, who squeezes her a bit too tight and for far too long considering they only met like, twenty minutes ago. When Suki lets her go, MJ can't help but sigh in relief.

Rose comes back over just as Suki exclaims, "Oh my God, I've got to go, I can't keep them waiting. I'm sorry!" She grabs her bag off the floor and runs to the elevator. "Say goodbye to Steve for me." Just before the doors close, she shouts, wide-eyed, "Bye!"

MJ waves, smiling, just as Rose and the Doctor do.

"Good riddance," Cathica huffs.

"You're talking like you'll never see her again," the Doctor notes. "She's only going upstairs."

"We won't," Cathica says. "Once you go to Floor 500, you never come back."

Oh. Oh. MJ's stomach churns. They shouldn't have let Suki go. They didn't see her off to a promotion — they just saw her off to her death. Or imprisonment. Hopefully imprisonment. And just imprisonment, not torture or anything.

MJ might've been left behind if the Doctor hadn't (seemingly instinctively) grabbed her hand and pulled her along. They follow after Cathica as she sulks her way across Floor 139, obviously upset.

"Have you ever been up there?" the Doctor asks.

"Can't," Cathica says. "You need a key for the lift and you only get a key with promotion. No one gets to 500, except for the chosen few."

Chosen few. The words ring in her head. It's right there, on the tip of her tongue. Golden walls. Chosen few. Once you go to Floor 500, you never come back.

"Look, they only give us twenty minutes maintenance," Cathica says as they follow her back into the 'news' room. "Can't you give it a rest?"

"But you've never been to another floor?" the Doctor presses. He hops into the chair in the center of the room. Rose and MJ join him, Rose resting her arms on the back of the chair and MJ leaning against the side. "Not even one floor down?"

"I went to Floor 16 when I first arrived," Cathica tells him. "That's medical, that's when I got my head done. And then I...I came straight here. Satellite Five, you work, eat, and sleep on the same floor, and that's it, that's all." She straightens up as the truth finally hits her. "You're not management, are you?"

"At last! She's clever," the Doctor mocks.

"Yeah, well, whatever it is, don't involve me," she says. "I don't know anything."

The Doctor watches her closely as she walks away. "Don't you even ask?"

"Why would I?" Cathica scoffs.

"You're a journalist!" the Doctor exclaims, gesturing grandly. "Why's all the crew human?"

Cathica pauses. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"There's no aliens on board," the Doctor points out. "Why?"

"I don't know. No real reason," Cathica splutters. "They're not banned or anything."

He makes a big show of looking around. "Then where are they?"

Cathica tugs on her suit jacket, pulling it tighter around her. A coping mechanism, even as she grows indignant. "I suppose Immigration's tightened up. It's had to, what with all the threats."

MJ folds her arms over her chest and tilts her head. "What threats?"

It's right there, she knows it is. She just needs a little nudge, a little more information, for her brain to supply the information it's currently keeping from her.

"I don't know, all of them, usual stuff," is the best answer Cathica can come up with. "And the price of space warp doubled, so that kept the visitors away. Oh, and the government of Chavic Five collapsed, so that lot stopped coming, you see? Just lots of little reasons, that's all."

"Adding up to one, great big fact," the Doctor says. "And you didn't even notice."

Cathica narrows her eyes at him. "Doctor, I think if there was any sort of conspiracy, Satellite Five would have seen it. We see everything."

See everything. Know everything. All-knowing, all-powerful...come on, MJ, come on. You know this, you just have to let yourself know it.

"I can see better," the Doctor says. "This society's the wrong shape, even the technology."

"It's cutting edge!" Cathica snaps.

"It's backward," the Doctor retorts. "Barbaric, as MJ said. There's a great big door in your head. You should've chucked this out years ago!"

"So what you think's going on?" Rose asks.

"It's not just this space station, it's the whole attitude," the Doctor says. "It's the way people think. The Great and Bountiful Human Empire is stunted. Something's holding it back."

"And how would you know?" Cathica questions coolly.

"Trust me," the Doctor says. "Humanity's been set back about ninety years. When did Satellite Five start broadcasting?"

Cathica's bravado falters, her gaze flickering between MJ and her friends. "Ninety-one years ago."

They would've lapsed into silence if it hadn't been for MJ who, no longer content with her brain holding out on her, hopped over the hexagonal console and started jumping around, clapping her hands together.

"Uh, MJ?" Rose sounds concerned. "What're you doing?"

"I'm stimming!" MJ exclaims. She stops jumping and starts spinning, arms flung out wide. "It's the repetitive performance of certain physical movements or sounds! It can be a coping mechanism or a form of self-expression!"

She catches a glimpse of the Doctor's amused expression. "And why are you doing it?"

"I have a brain block," she explains. She stops spinning, but the room doesn't, so she swallows her pride and grabs hold of her nemesis the metal railing to keep herself upright. "I've got something on the tip of my tongue, but it's like, just out of reach and I was hoping if maybe I stimmed, that I could distract myself—" She freezes. "Distraction."

MJ straightens up and starts shaking out her hands. "Distraction. Golden walls. Chosen few." She groans, squeezing her eyes shut in frustration. "It's right there, I just can't get it!"

"Can we help?" Rose asks.

"Yes, actually," MJ says. She shoves her hands into her pant pockets. "Just throw words at me. Just keep saying random words until something clicks."

"Okay, um..." Rose chews on her bottom lip. "Television?"

MJ shakes her head and starts to pace.

"Banana," the Doctor suggests. Another head shake. He tries again. "Space. Time. Monkey."

"You're not very good at this," MJ says.

The Doctor pouts. "You just said random words!" He gestures to Cathica. "How about you give it a go?"

Cathica hesitates, then lets out a sigh, shoulders sagging. "Okay. How about...war?"

MJ screeches to a halt so fast that her momentum almost tips her over. She whirls around, eyes glittering, and grabs Cathica by the shoulders. "Cathica with a C Santini Khadeni, you're a fucking lifesaver!" She claps her hands together, positively beaming. "War! That's it, that's the kick I needed!"

"Glad to hear it," the Doctor says cheerily. "What've you got for us today, resident genius?"

MJ takes a deep breath, her joy at the pieces clicking together fading as soon as the depth of her discovery sunk in. She locks eyes with the Doctor. "One more time. What's Floor 500?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Rose says, raising her hand as if they're in class. "Floor 500: the walls are made of gold."

"Yes, but think about it," MJ implores. "A floor with walls made of gold. Except gold is a shitty building material. I was telling Adam earlier—" She pauses and looks around. "Wait, where's Adam?"

Rose waves her hand dismissively. "Acclimatizing on the observation deck. He's really freaked out. Go on."

MJ heads for the door and, without even having to ask, the others follow her back into the canteen. She wrings her hands as she turns to face them. "So, as I was telling Adam earlier, I don't know if you two heard, but gold is too soft, too heavy, and too weak to build with, on top of being expensive. You can't have solid gold walls."

"Okay, so?" Cathica asks, raising an eyebrow.

"So maybe it's not a golden floor. Maybe it's a golden apple."

Rose's brow furrows. "A golden apple? What are you talkin' about, 'golden apple?'"

"A shiny, glittering apple for the most beautiful goddess," MJ clarifies. "And everyone's so busy competing for it that they don't even question where it came from, or why it exists. They just bicker and vy their way into the Trojan War."

"Yeah, I'm lost," Rose says, looking at the Doctor for an explanation.

"It's an Ancient Greek myth," the Doctor says. The word 'myth' prickles MJ's skin. "The goddess of discord, Eris, was ticked off when everyone but her got invited to this wedding. It was, uh, Thetis and...Thetis and..."

"Thetis and Peleus's wedding," MJ supplies. "Eris decided to get her revenge by inscribing a golden apple with the phrase 'For the fairest.' Eris tossed the apple into the room, interrupting the wedding, and of course, all of the goddesses started fighting over it. It got narrowed down to three goddesses: Athena, Aphrodite, and Hera."

"Okay, I know Aphrodite's the love goddess," Rose says. "The other two, I'm blanking."

"Hera, queen of the gods, is the goddess of marriage and family," the Doctor says. "Ironic, since her husband constantly cheated on her and she threw her son down a mountain."

MJ straightens her back, eyes sparkling. "Athena's the goddess of wisdom, strategy, defensive warfare, crafts, and the arts, among many other things."

Rose nods. "Okay, so who won?"

"Well, Zeus got so annoyed about the fighting that he decided the first farmer Hermes saw — who turned out to be Paris, prince of Troy who'd been exiled by his father in a foolish attempt to thwart the Fates — would get the final say on who got the apple," MJ says. "So Hermes found Paris and of course, the goddesses all tried to bribe him in their own way. Athena offered him and his family battle skills, Hera offered him Asia Minor, but Aphrodite offered him the most beautiful woman in the whole world: Helen of Sparta."

"I thought it was Helen of Troy," Rose says.

"Not just yet," MJ says. "Anyway, Paris liked Aphrodite's offer best, so she got the apple and he got the girl. Unfortunately, Helen was already married to Menelaus, the king of Sparta, so when she left Sparta for Troy, the Greeks followed her and thus began a decade-long war, resulting in a lot of death and destruction."

"Wait, wait, wait," Rose says, holding up her hand. "Aphrodite gave Helen to Paris? That's sort of messed up, isn't it?"

"Well, the story varies, of course." MJ folds her arms over her chest, trying to ignore the beads of sweat trickling down her back. "Some say Paris straight-up kidnapped Helen, others say Aphrodite used her powers to make Helen fall in love with Paris, and others still say he courted Helen while her husband was at his grandfather's funeral and then eloped with her as soon as she was willing."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with Floor 500?" Cathica questions a bit pissily.

"Because Floor 500 and the apple are the same," MJ says. "A golden prize just out of reach that everybody wants so damn badly that it completely blinds them to everything else. And they won't realize they've been played until it's too late. Because the apple was just an apple. And Floor 500?"

"It's just a way to get them upstairs," the Doctor realizes. His face lights up. He surges forward, pulls MJ into his arms, and lifts her clean off her feet as he spins her. "Oh, MJ, you're a genius!"

Cathica nods slowly. "Okay, I think I get it. The golden apple was a trap the goddesses willingly walked into because they were so focused on winning the title of the fairest that they couldn't see the signs that someone was manipulating them. And you're saying Floor 500 is just another golden apple. It's bait. A distraction."

"So now we need to find out who's our Eris," Rose deduces.

"Satellite Five is first and foremost a news station," MJ says. "At least, it's supposed to be. So who's the editor?"

Cathica's eyes widen. "I...I don't know."

The Doctor pulls out his sonic screwdriver, smiling mischievously. "Would you like to find out?"

*

"We're so gonna get in trouble," Cathica says.

They're in a side corridor, the Doctor too busy sonic-ing a door to pay any attention to Cathica's anxieties.

"You're not allowed to touch the mainframe," Cathica continues. "We'll get told off."

"Ladies, tell her to button it," the Doctor says.

"You can't just vandalize the place, someone's gonna notice," Cathica hisses.

The Doctor gets the door open, revealing a mess of wires and circuits. The Doctor dives in, fiddling with this and that.

"This is nothing to do with me," Cathica declares. "I'm going back to work."

The Doctor doesn't even spare her a glance as she starts to walk off. "Go on then! See ya!"

Cathica immediately turns back around. "I can't just leave you, can I?"

"If you wanna be useful, get 'em to turn the heating down, it's boiling," Rose snaps at her, pulling some cables to the side so the Doctor can get deeper into the mainframe. "What's wrong with this place? Can't they do something about it?"

"I don't know, we keep asking," Cathica says. "Something to do with the turbines."

"Something to do with the turbines," the Doctor mocks quietly.

"But I don't know," Cathica grumbles.

"Exactly," the Doctor says. "I give up on you, Cathica. Now, Rose, look at Rose, Rose is asking the right kind of questions."

Rose blushes. "Ah, thank you."

"Why is it so hot?" the Doctor questions.

"Better question," MJ says, shrugging out of her jacket. She ties it around her waist and wipes the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. It seems leather wasn't the best choice for today. "Where's all the cold?"

The Doctor lets out a bark of laughter. "'Where's all the cold?' Oh, that is a better question." He pauses in his fiddling to grin at her. "Oh, MJ, I'd be lost without you."

"I know," she teases, leaning in. The mainframe is slightly cooler than the corridor — likely to keep all the tech from overheating.

Cathica rolls her eyes and gestures wildly. "One moment you're worried about the Empire, and the next minute, it's the central heating."

"Oh, never underestimate plumbing," the Doctor reprimands. "Plumbing is very important."

He rips out a bundle of wires. MJ really hopes that he did that on purpose, but judging from the shock on his face, he very much did not.

Recovering quickly, the Doctor brings out a screen for them to look at. "Here we go, Satellite Five. Pipes and plumbing. Look at the layout."

"This is ridiculous," Cathica says, but she sounds more impressed than anything. As the Doctor hops out of the mainframe to stand between Rose and MJ, Cathica takes the screen into her hands for a closer look. "You've got access to the computer's core. You could look at the archive, the news, the stock exchange..." She looks at him over her shoulder, brow furrowed. "And you're looking at pipes?"

"But there's something wrong," the Doctor says.

Cathica turns her attention back to the screen. "I suppose."

"Why, what is it?" Rose asks.

"The ventilation system," Cathica says. "Cooling ducts, ice filters. All working flat out. Channeling massive amounts of heat down."

"All the way from the top," the Doctor says.

Rose nods, squinting at the screen. "Floor 500."

The Doctor's eyes narrow. "Something up there is generating tons and tons of heat."

"Our Eris," MJ chimes in.

"Well, I don't about you, but I feel like I'm missing out on a party," Rose jokes. "It's all going on upstairs. Fancy a trip?"

"You can't, you need a key," Cathica reminds them.

"Keys are just codes, and I've got the codes right here," the Doctor says, gesturing to the monitor. "Here we go. Override 215.9."

Cathica scowls and takes a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. "How come it's giving you the code?"

The Doctor's gaze finds the nearest camera. "Someone up there likes me."

MJ follows his gaze and grimaces. "We're just going to walk right into a trap, aren't we?"

"Ah," the Doctor says, "but is it still a trap if we know it's a trap?"

"Yes," she says without a moment's hesitation. She wipes her sweaty palms on her pants. "I don't like not knowing what we're going into."

"That's life, MJ," the Doctor says jovially. He heads for the elevator and of course, MJ, Rose, and Cathica follow. "'Sides, we do know one thing. It's going to be frosty up there, so you best put your coat back on."

The elevator doors open automatically for them. Another bad sign. The Doctor, Rose, and MJ head right in, but Cathica stops a few feet away.

"Come on, come with us," Rose urges her.

"No way!" Cathica exclaims.

"Bye!" the Doctor sings, waving cheerily.

"Well, don't mention my name," Cathica tells them rather sternly. "When you get in trouble, just don't involve me."

She storms off. MJ's admittedly sad to see her go. So much wasted potential.

"That's her gone," the Doctor says. "Adam's given up. It looks like it's just us, ladies."

"Yeah," Rose says.

He nods. "Good."

"Yep," MJ says, untying her jacket from around her waist.

Rose helps her put it back on as the Doctor slots a card into the controls. The three of them share a nervous grin and join hands — MJ in the middle, Rose on her right, and the Doctor on her left — as the doors close. To Floor 500, they go.

*

The elevator doors open unto Floor 500 and — Quelle surprise! —

"The walls are not made of gold," the Doctor says.

Yes, the walls are very much not made of gold. But they do appear to be encased in a thick layer of ice. Actually, everything's encased in ice.

MJ smirks, huddling close to Rose. "Who could've predicted that one?"

"You two should go back downstairs," the Doctor says next.

"Tough," Rose says at the same time as MJ scoffs, "As if!"

And then, arms linked, the two girls forge ahead.

It doesn't take them long to find the center of activity on Floor 500 — a control room with rows of consoles like the ones in the 'news' room, almost all of which are occupied by people. People who look very frozen and very dead, but somehow still working. MJ shudders. People who continue to work after death? This is like a capitalist's wet dream.

The only person in the room who seems to still be alive is a white man with platinum blond hair. A man who is clearly waiting for them. The Editor, MJ presumes.

"I started without you," he tells them. He's weirdly jovial. "This is fascinating. Satellite Five contains every piece of information within the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. Birth certificates, shopping habits, bank statements, but you three...You don't exist. There's not a trace. No birth, no job, not the slightest kiss."

He gestures to the giant monitor on the wall in front of them as he rambles, then folds his hands and looks at them. "How can you walk through the world and not leave a single footprint?"

Rose ignores him, her eyes having landed on a familiar face. "Suki! Suki!" She crouches next to Suki, touching her arm gently. "Hello? Can you hear me? Suki?" She whips around to scowl at the Editor. "What have you done to her?"

"I think she's dead," the Doctor says.

He holds out his hand and MJ takes it without thinking. He runs cooler than a human, but in the iciness of Floor 500, he burns. The warmth is more than welcome. So is the comfort.

"But she's working," Rose says.

"It's the chips in their heads," MJ says. She looks at the Doctor. "Right?"

He nods. "The chips keep going. Like puppets."

"Oh!" the Editor practically sings.

He looks far too delighted with everything that's happening. MJ's free hand clenches into a fist. She wants nothing more than to wipe that smug expression off his face, but she lets him keep talking. For now.

"You two are full of information," the Editor says. "But it's only fair we get some information back." He chuckles. "Because apparently, you're no one. It's so rare not to know something. Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter 'cause we're off," the Doctor says. "Nice to meet you." To Rose, he calls, "Come on!"

Of course, as soon as they turn to leave, ice zombies jump up to stop them. The zombies yank MJ and the Doctor apart. Suki grabs Rose's sleeve to keep her in place.

"Tell me who you are," the Editor demands.

The Doctor scoffs. "Since that information is keeping us alive, I'm hardly gonna say, am I?"

"Well, perhaps my Editor-in-Chief can convince you otherwise," the Editor says.

"And who's that?" the Doctor questions.

The Editor's irritating smile makes a return. "It may interest you to know that this is not the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. In fact, it's not actually human at all. It's merely a place where humans happen to live."

Overhead, a creature growls. MJ's eyes narrow. The zombies holding her have her arms wrenched back, but that's no problem. She can tear her arm free and pull her hunting knife faster than they can blink.

The Editor acts as though he's receiving information through an earpiece that doesn't exist. "Yep. Yep. Sorry!" He folds his hands once more. "It's a place where humans are allowed to live by kind permission of my client."

He points up and holy fucking Hades, how did MJ not spot that uvula-esque monstrosity hanging from the ceiling? It's slimy and fleshy and it has far too many rows of fang-like teeth. It's absolutely vile looking. She hopes the Doctor will let her kill it.

"What is that?" Rose asks nervously.

The Doctor doesn't answer, too busy gaping at the creature on the ceiling. "You mean that thing's in charge of Satellite Five?"

"'That thing,' as you put it, is in charge of the human race," the Editor says. "For almost a hundred years, mankind has been shaped and guided. His knowledge and ambition, strictly controlled by its broadcast news. Edited by my superior, your master, and humanity's guiding light, the Mighty Jagrafess of the Holy Hadrojassic Maxarodenfoe." The Editor looks back at MJ and the Doctor, grinning. "I call him Max."

The Doctor fakes a smile, then looks at MJ. "MJ?"

"Yeah, Doc?"

"The Adherents of the Repeated Meme," he says as the zombies force them forward. "Remember them?"

MJ furrows her brow. "Yeah?"

"Rose didn't get to see how you handled them," the Doctor says hastily. Other ice zombies are hauling forward some kind of makeshift stocks complete with manacles. "Maybe a demonstration's in order?"

MJ's lips curl into a smirk. "Oh, Doc. I thought you'd never ask."

The Editor glances between them, expression shifting into a frown. "Sorry, what—?"

MJ wrenches her arm free from the zombie on her left and slams her shoulder into the one on her left. Drawing her knife, she slashes one of the zombie's across the face. It's more of a test than anything, and it goes exactly as she'd figured it would — the zombies feel no pain. Which means they won't stop coming until she puts them down permanently. But how? She'd have to disable their chips somehow, and it's not like she carries an EMP on her.

Maybe the Doctor's sonic could do the trick?

MJ skirts back to dodge a swing from one zombie and follows it up with a kick to the other. Her kick lands so hard that the zombie's neck snaps and its head turns to the right. Two more zombies come up from behind her. They grab her, but she sinks her knife into one's stomach. The other, she yanks over her shoulder, flipping it onto the floor.

"Stop resisting or she dies!" the Editor declares.

Zombie-Suki has her hand around Rose's throat now. Rose gives a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head. MJ tugs her knife from the zombie's stomach, slams her forehead into the zombie's nose, then, in one fluid motion, turns and throws her knife.

The hunting knife embeds itself in Zombie-Suki's forehead, right in the center where Cathica has a door to her brain. Zombie-Suki releases Rose and falls to the floor. Really, truly dead. And MJ's the one who killed her.

"MJ, get her out of here!" the Doctor barks.

"No, not without you!" Rose shouts even as she runs to MJ's side.

The Jagrafess roars overhead, spit dribbling onto the girls. MJ grimaces and yanks Rose along, leading her away.

"How are you going to get away without a weapon?" the Editor calls after them menacingly as more zombies appear out of seemingly nowhere.

"Jokes on you, motherfucker," MJ snarls. She shoves Rose aside, grabs a zombie by the head, and slams its head down on her knee. The body's so damn frozen that the impact shatters its face. MJ turns to the rest of the horde, fists raised. "I am a weapon."

Everything after that becomes a whirl of dodges, punches, kicks, and shoves. She really only vaguely registers the Editor interrogating the Doctor, too focused on getting Rose out of here and back to the safety of the TARDIS. It seems like with every zombie she takes out, a new one appears. Thankfully, she's not alone in the fight — Rose's managed to yank a chair free from the frosty floor and is whacking anything that gets too close to her with it.

MJ catches a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. It's brief, but she knows it's Cathica. Good. She can create the opening MJ needs.

The Editor comes around the corner just as MJ wraps an arm around a zombie's neck.

"Are you two going to give up any time soon?" he asks, leaning against the wall casually. "Because I must say, your friend isn't much of a conversationalist and I'm getting bored."

MJ makes direct eye contact with the Editor and crushes the zombie's throat into shards with her bicep. "Well, I'd hate for you to get bored."

The Editor swallows thickly and takes a step back. "Hm, you're quite the fighter, aren't you? Haven't seen one like you in...well, ever."

"What can I say?" MJ kicks a zombie square in the chest, caving it in, then stomps toward the Editor. "I'm one of a kind."

His eyes go wide and he rushes back around the corner.

"Running back to Daddy Jagafess?" MJ taunts.

"You know, that's one hell of a metabolism, generating all that heat," the Doctor says rather loudly. "That's why Satellite Five's so hot. You pump it out the creature, channel it downstairs. Jagrafess stays cool, stays alive. Satellite Five is one great big life-support system."

Heat. That's it. That's exactly it! MJ digs into her bigger-on-the-inside pockets, thank the gods she's a chronic over-preparer. When her fingers brush the hard plastic, she grins.

"But that's why you're so dangerous," the Editor says, sounding a bit stressed now. "Knowledge is power, but you remain unknown. Who are you?"

There's an electrical buzzing sound. From behind MJ, Rose cries out, "Doctor!"

"I'm fine!" the Doctor calls back, voice strained. "I'm just the Doctor, she's Rose Tyler, she's MJ Winslow, we're nothing, we're just wandering!"

Rose shrieks and MJ whips around to see three zombies have gotten a hold of her. They drag her off to join the Doctor in shackles. MJ swears under her breath. She crouches and ducks under the console. She crawls along the wall so she'll emerge behind the Doctor and Rose.

"Two down, one to go!" the Editor announces cheerily. "Now tell me who you are!"

"I just said!" the Doctor protests.

"Yeah, but who do you work for?" the Editor presses. "Who sent you? Who knows about us? Who exactly..." The Editor pauses. He breathes out in realization. "Time Lord."

MJ's blood runs cold. She draws her new weapon and tries to be patient, to wait for her opening. She needs the Editor to be distracted — he can electrocute Rose and the Doctor with a snap of his fingers. She can't risk them getting hurt. But it's killing her to hide while they're in immediate danger.

The Doctor's voice softens. "What?"

"Oh, yes!" the Editor exclaims. "The last of the Time Lords. And his traveling machine. With his little human girls from long ago."

"Don't know what you're talking about," the Doctor says.

"Time travel," the Editor says.

"Someone's been telling you lies," the Doctor tells him.

"Young master Adam Mitchell?"

MJ peeks around the corner in time to see the Editor snap his fingers. A projection of Adam in the 'news' room springs to life. He's screaming in agony. It isn't until MJ leans in a little closer that she realizes. His head. He put a fucking door in his head.

"Oh my god, his head," Rose gasps.

The Doctor gapes at the image of Adam in horror. "What the hell's he done? What the hell's he gone and done? They're reading his mind, he's telling them everything."

"And through him, I know everything about you," the Editor boasts. "Every piece of information in his head is now mine. And you have infinite knowledge, Doctor. The Human Empire is tiny compared to what you've seen in your T-A-R-D-I-S. TARDIS!"

"Well, you'll never get your hands on it, I'll die first!" the Doctor shouts.

"Well, die all you like, I don't need ya," the Editor says. "I've got the key."

On-screen, Rose's TARDIS key floats out of Adam's pocket and dangles in front of his face.

"You and your boyfriends!" the Doctor groans.

"Today, we are the headlines," the Editor says. "We can rewrite history. We could prevent mankind from ever developing."

The Doctor and MJ make eye contact for the briefest of seconds before he looks back at the Editor. "And no one's gonna stop you. Because you bred a human race which doesn't bother to ask questions. Stupid little slaves believing every lie. They'll just trot right into the slaughterhouse if they're told it's made of gold."

MJ glances at Cathica and sees her finally move. Thank the gods. Moments later, an alarm sounds. The Editor dashes over to the console and MJ makes her move. She tucks her weapon in the waistband of her pants and darts out to stand behind the Doctor.

"Sorry, Doc," she whispers in his ear, reaching around to his front. "We're about to get real familiar."

"Inner pocket of my jacket," he whispers back.

She has to twist her wrist awkwardly to reach it, but she manages to pull his sonic free. "How the fuck does this thing work exactly?"

"Flick the switch," he says.

MJ does as told, pressing the button down and thinking, Please, please, please unlock the Doctor's shackles!

"It's Cathica," Rose realizes as the Doctor's manacles unlock.

"And she's thinking," the Doctor says, taking the sonic from MJ. He scrambles to free Rose while MJ focuses her attention on the Editor. "She's using what she knows. Everything I told her about Satellite Five, the pipes, the filters, she's reversing it."

Water runs as the ice around them begins to melt. The Editor hardly notices, too busy trying to get one of his zombies to terminate Cathica's access. What a fucking idiot.

MJ grabs him by the back of his suit jacket and turns him around to look him in the eyes, pinning him against the console with her knee. She has her hands wrapped around his wrists to keep him from snapping his fingers. 

"What you were saying earlier, about knowing everything because you could read Adam's mind. You were wrong." She leans in, brown eyes glinting silver. "You don't know anything. You're a small, pathetic little man who will be neglected by history and forgotten by everyone who had the misfortune to know you. And the really, really sad part is, you weren't even enough of an asshole to make it to the Fields of Punishment. You were so damn ordinary and boring that you'll wander the Fields of Asphodel forever, just another stupid human who thought too highly of himself."

"Fields of..." His eyes widen. "You're one of them. You're—"

"Walking out of here," she cuts him off. "Can't say the same for you."

MJ slams his head against the console, knocking him out cold. She yanks her knife free from Suki's forehead and hurries over to Rose and the Doctor as the machines around them begin to spark and short-circuit. "Y'all ready to get the fuck out of here?"

The Doctor's eyes are trained on the roaring Jagrafess. "Cathica's venting all the heat up here. The Jagrafess needs to stay cool, and now it's sitting on top of a volcano."

The Jagafress shrieks, hanging low to snap its jaws at Rose and the Doctor. They duck and hurry down the stairs. MJ pauses at the top of the stairs, shoving her knife into her jacket pocket.

Of course, the Doctor always needs to get the last word in. "Oi, mate, wanna bank on a certainty? Massive heat in a massive body. Massive bang!"

Lumps of flesh fall off the Jagrafess and onto the slick floor.

"See you in the headlines!" the Doctor exclaims. He's about to run off when he realizes MJ's not coming. "What are you doing?"

"Helping things along," MJ says, pulling her gun from the waistband of her pants. She raises it, aiming for one spot in particular, and fires.

The flare lands in the Jagrafess's open mouth.

"Now we run!" MJ laughs, grabbing the Doctor's hand and pulling him down the hall. Behind them comes a very squelchy explosion.

"I found her!" Rose exclaims, waving MJ and the Doctor over.

Behind tattered plastic sheets lies Cathica on a chair, the blue light connecting her to the network. The Doctor snaps his fingers. The light dissipates and Cathica opens her eyes as the door in her forehead closes.

"Now that's what I call guerrilla journalism," MJ jokes. She tilts her head thoughtfully. "Or would that be Gonzo journalism, since Cathica made herself part of the story?"

"I'm thinking Gonzo," the Doctor says with a soft smile. "I'm also thinking we should get back downstairs."

MJ's face lights up. "Oh, can I beat Adam's ass now?"

"Only if I can watch," Rose says, scowling, her arms crossed over her chest. "I cannot believe he put a door in his head."

"Let's hope that's the worst thing he did," MJ says. She holds her hand out to Cathica. "Come on. Whole new world down there, and it's gonna need someone like you."

Cathica smiles and takes her hand.

*

Floor 139 is in disarray, but everyone seems to be fine. Physically, at least. Rose and MJ are leaning against the bar in the canteen while Cathica and the Doctor sit at a table, surveying the mess. Adam's in timeout, waiting outside the TARDIS for them.

"We're just gonna go," the Doctor says. "I hate tidying up. Too many questions. You'll manage."

"You'll have to stay and explain it," Cathica insists. "No one's gonna believe me."

"Well, they might start believing a lot of things now," the Doctor tells her. "Human race should accelerate. All back to normal."

MJ takes a couple of steps forward to stand next to the Doctor, putting her hand on his shoulder. "And a word of advice, just in case: don't give them a choice."

Cathica's brow furrows. "Sorry?"

"You say that no one's gonna believe you," MJ says. "But they will because you're not going to give them the choice not to. Use your voice, don't let anybody silence you. Never give in, never surrender. As long as you speak your truth and stand your ground, history will look kindly on you. And, you know, even if it doesn't, we will."

The Doctor covers MJ's hand with his and smiles at her softly.

"Thank you," Cathica says. Her eyes flicker between MJ and the Doctor. There's a glimmer of something in her dark eyes. "You two are...sweet." She glances at Adam. "But what about your friend?"

"He's not my friend," the Doctor says darkly. His soft smile is a distant memory now. MJ already misses it.

He gets to his feet, turning to face Adam with a glower that sends a (not entirely unpleasant) shiver down MJ's spine. He stalks toward Adam, MJ right by his side.

"Now, don't," Rose protests uselessly.

"I'm alright now," Adam says as they approach. "Much better. I've got the key. Look, it's..." He holds Rose's key up, then laughs nervously. "It all worked out for the best, didn't it?"

The Doctor takes Rose's key back and pushes Adam aside to unlock the TARDIS. MJ plants her hands on her hips, glaring daggers at the stupid little white boy who almost handed her precious astéri mou to the Jagrafess.

Adam should stop talking, but he doesn't. "You know, it's not actually my fault, because you were in charge—"

MJ's vision goes red, and the next thing she knows, she has Adam pinned to the wall, her hunting knife at his throat. She raises her chin, staring him down. "You want to say that again?"

Adam gulps, ducking his head. "Well, um—"

"Which is it, Adam?" she interjects. She places the tip of her knife under Adam's chin, forcing him to raise his head and look her in the eyes. "Because when we met, you said you were a genius. That you were 'born clever.' But now you're saying that you're so fucking stupid that you need a chaperone at all points in time, so which is it, huh? Or does it, uh, does it change depending on whether or not you're willing to take responsibility for your own actions?"

As she talks, she drags the tip of her knife down to the hollow of his throat, pressing just hard enough for him to feel without breaking the skin.

"I, um..." Adam trails off. "I...I..."

"What, cat got your tongue?" MJ taunts with a faux pout. Trailing the tip of her knife lower, between his collarbones, she says, "Let me finish that thought for you. 'I took advantage of Rose's kindness and the Doctor's generosity. I was given a chance to travel through time and space, and I squandered it because I cared more about getting riches and fame than I did about helping people, which is what traveling with the Doctor is all about. And worst of all, I was dumb enough to let some strangers put a technology the Doctor told me was backward in my head. I'm a greedy, pathetic imbecile, and it was a mistake bringing me into the TARDIS.'" MJ's lips pull back into a devilish smile. "That's what you were going to say, right, Adam?"

Adam nods hastily.

"Well, I'm glad you're at least aware that you're a fucking loser," MJ says. "They say knowing is half the battle."

She releases him from her ironclad grip, leaving him gasping for air as if she'd been suffocating him with her proximity alone. She tucks her knife away and grabs him by the shirt collar, hauling him back over to the TARDIS. She shoves him inside so hard that she hears him fall on his face.

MJ turns to the Doctor. "Let's take this fucker home."

*

"It's my house," Adam marvels as the Doctor manhandles him out of the TARDIS. "I'm home." He laughs. "Oh my god, I'm home! Blimey. I thought you were gonna chuck me out of an airlock."

"Oh, why didn't we do that instead?" MJ 'whines' with a pout, leaning against the TARDIS's doors.

Rose is standing next to her. They both have their arms crossed and their eyes narrowed. Formidable backup for the Doctor's fury.

"Is there something else you want to tell me?" the Doctor asks.

"No," Adam lies. "Erm, what do you mean?"

The Doctor strolls over to the landline and picks the whole thing up. "The archive of Satellite Five. One second of that message could have changed the world."

Adam doesn't look even vaguely remorseful, just a bit sheepish for having been caught. His attempts to protest the Doctor sonicking the phone are silenced by MJ purposefully clearing her throat. The phone sparks and then explodes.

"That's it, then," the Doctor says. "See ya."

"How do you mean, 'See ya?'" Adam questions as the Doctor brushes past him to reach the TARDIS.

"As in, goodbye," the Doctor says. He's on MJ's left now, standing right beside her, and when she sees his hand move, she expects him to take hers. Instead, his fingers brush her waist before his palm settles on the small of her back.

Adam furrows his brow. "What about me? You can't just go. I've got my head. I've got a chip type two. My head opens."

"What, like this?" The Doctor snaps his fingers with his free hand.

The door in Adam's head opens.

"Don't," Adam reprimands. He snaps his fingers and the door closes.

"Don't do what?" the Doctor taunts. He snaps his fingers again, his expression vengeful.

"Stop it!" Adam demands, snapping the door shut.

"Alright now, Doctor. That's enough," Rose chimes in. "Stop it."

Adam smiles at her. "Thank you."

Biting back a smirk, Rose raises her hand and snaps her fingers. MJ snorts as the door whirs open.

"Oi!" Adam protests. He closes the door.

"Sorry," Rose says through her giggles. "I couldn't resist."

"The whole of history could have changed because of you," the Doctor says.

He starts rubbing her back with his thumb, his usually cool hands seeming to burn right through the layers of clothes separating MJ's skin and his. It's not to soothe her, she realizes, spotting the tightness in the crinkle of his eyes. It's to keep himself calm. Keep himself grounded.

"I just wanted to help," Adam says.

"You were helping yourself," the Doctor snaps.

"And I'm sorry," Adam says desperately. "And I've said I'm sorry, and I am, I really am."

(Note: at no point during any of this has Adam uttered the words, "I'm sorry" before just now.)

"But you can't just leave me like this," Adam insists.

"Yes, I can," the Doctor says. "'Cause if you show that head to anyone, they'll dissect you in seconds. You'll have to lead a very quiet life. Keep out of trouble. Be average. Unseen."

"Shouldn't be too hard for you," MJ taunts with a vicious smirk. "The thing is, Adam, I feel sorry for you, I really do, because your entire life you've been lied to, even by your own family. They told you that you were special, but you're not, Adam. There's nothing remarkable about you. Not your looks, or your accomplishments, and certainly not your intelligence. You're just another white boy with an overinflated ego and a complete lack of empathy for others."

Adam's hands ball into fists at his side. "That's not true."

"It is true and I pity you," MJ barrels on, enjoying how red his face is getting. "You've built your entire personality — your entire life, even! — around the idea that there's something noteworthy or unique about you, but it's a lie. You're a fraud, Adam. A complete and utter fraud. You're a bumbling, money-hungry idiot who got a door put in his head so he could claim other far smarter people's ideas and work as his own and rewrite history with himself as the victor. And now..."

She laughs at him, at this tiny man whose avarice will be his undoing. "Now you gotta live with the consequences."

"But I wanna come with you!" Adam blurts out as she opens the TARDIS door.

The Doctor shakes his head. "I only take the best. I've got Rose and MJ."

And with that, MJ and the Doctor head back into the TARDIS, leaving the door ajar for Rose. She joins them less than a minute later and closes the door firmly behind her.

"I'm so sorry," she says as the Doctor takes them into flight.

The Doctor frowns at her. "What for?"

"It was my idea to bring Adam onboard," Rose says, wrapping her arms around herself. "I gave him my phone and my key, and I let him run off on his own, and—"

"You have nothing to apologize for," the Doctor tells her softly. "MJ said it herself. Adam took advantage of your kindness. He used your desire to help people and your need to take care of everyone against you. That's on him, not you."

Rose shakes her head. Tears roll down her cheeks, and she takes a step back when MJ tries to approach. "But—"

"The thing is, Rose, you're kind and noble," the Doctor says, "and a very wise person told me once that the problem with being kind and noble is that you can get taken advantage of pretty easily. Doesn't make you a bad person."

MJ blinks. Didn't she tell him that? Yes, she did, after the thing with the Gelth. It really wasn't that long ago, but the fact that he remembered it — word for word — makes a strange warmth bloom in her chest.

"Alright," MJ says, clapping her hands together. "Doc, we safely parked?" He nods and she beams. "In that case, I think this is the perfect time for a group hug. Who's with me?"

The second MJ opens her arms, Rose practically launches herself right into them. The Doctor hesitates before coming over and wrapping his arms around them both. For what feels like ages, they stand there, basking in each other's warmth and comfort. No words are exchanged because words aren't needed. The tight grip they have on each other and the way they fit together — Rose's face buried in the crook of MJ's neck and the Doctor's chin resting on top of MJ's head — says it all.

Finally, Rose breaks the silence. "I don't know if this is a bad time to say this, but MJ, you were really hot today."

MJ furrows her brow. "Yeah, we all were. Because of the heating thing."

"No, I mean like, you were sexy," Rose giggles, turning her head to peer up at MJ through her lashes. "You crushed a zombie's neck with your bicep and I nearly swooned."

The three of them break apart, all laughing.

"Rose Tyler," MJ says, raising her eyebrows, "are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Yeah, I think I am," Rose says with her hands on her hips. "I think I might be into women and men."

MJ throws her arm around Rose's shoulders. "Welcome to the club, Rosie."

"Can we get matching jackets?" Rose asks.

"And matching hats," MJ says.

They start walking down the hallway to their rooms, giggling about all of the ridiculous pride merch they're never actually going to get. MJ glances over her shoulder and locks eyes with the Doctor. He looks sad, as is to be expected after the day they've had. But there's something else in his eyes, something that makes MJ's smile widen.

Hope.

*

rip to adam. i would pay good money to have mj threaten me with a knife but i'm just built different ig

also welcome to my 'none of the companions are straight' agenda