trigger warning(s): none i think ??

*

When MJ lands, she immediately falls to her knees.

"MJ!" someone cries out joyously, and a pair of hands on either side help her to stand.

She opens her eyes. Another new console room with new faces. This one has a similar color scheme to Leather Jacket's with the warmth and the copper, but the floor is glass and there are lots of stairs, like in Magician's console room. This console's controls look particularly...well, convoluted is one word for it. It's an absolute mess of knobs and levers and random bits. An old-timey monitor is suspended from some rigging and looks like it could probably be moved around the console easily. With the hexagonal design of the console and the coloring, this console room is almost like Leather Jacket's and Magician's had a very chaotic baby.

The white people helping her stand eye her worriedly. They release their grips on her and each takes a step back.

"MJ?" the woman on her right says, eyes narrowed. She's a Scottish redhead, which feels like some kind of stereotype, and exceptionally pretty. "What's wrong? You're looking at everything like you've never seen it before."

MJ looks to her left and there's a moment, just a moment that she'll never admit to even if she's being waterboarded, where she sees the man on her left, recognizes how good-looking he is, hopes he's the Doctor, and realizes, with a pang of disappointment, that he's not the Doctor. She blinks and looks around the console room again.

"Where's the Doctor?" she asks, talking a little slow. That exhaustion is back, and so is the almost debilitating hunger. Gods, she needs to eat something.

"Seriously?" the redhead scoffs with an absolutely vicious scowl. "That's it? No 'Hi, Amy and Rory, good to see you,' just 'Where's the Doctor?' What are we, chopped liver?"

The good-looking man, Rory, is staring at MJ's necklace. "Uh, Amy, I don't think she knows who we are."

"What are you talking about?" Amy demands. "Of course, she knows who we are."

"Um, no, not really," MJ stammers out. She's leaning against the railing, her brain still struggling to catch up. "I mean, I know your names are Amy and Rory 'cos you just said so but uh, this is my first time meeting you two. Hi?"

Amy stumbles back as if slapped. "You...you really don't know who we are?"

MJ grimaces. "Uh, no. Sorry."

"Well, um, I'm Rory Williams," Rory says, managing a weak smile. "And this is my wife, Amy. We've been traveling with you and the Doctor for a while now."

"Okay," MJ says. She smiles and tucks her hair behind her ears. "Nice to meet you two."

"Alright, Ponds!" a loud voice yells out. A white man wearing suspenders, a bowtie, and a tweed blazer comes barreling out of one of the hallways and down the stairs. He has floppy brown hair, eyebrows so pale they almost don't exist, and, if MJ's being perfectly honest, a face that probably wouldn't work on anyone else but him. "Here's what I'm thinking. There's this forest—"

He screeches to a halt at the sight of MJ. He already looks excited, but he somehow lights up even more. "Tilly! You're here!"

He rushes toward her, arms thrown out wide for a hug, but Rory intercedes. "Um, Doctor? This is a young MJ. Very young MJ. I don't think she's met you before."

MJ steps out from behind Rory and waves. "Hi. I love the bowtie."

The Doctor is making a very similar face to the one Amy was making just a minute ago — utter astonishment, bordering on appalled. Then she blinks and the expression is gone, replaced with a self-assured smile. He adjusts his bowtie proudly. "Of course you do. Bowties are cool."

"Slight problem, though," she says. "I have no idea if I just came from your future or your past."

"Were you with Leather Jacket or Converse?" the Doctor asks. She shakes her head and he nods decisively. "My future, then." He jabs his finger at her, making an attempt at looking very serious. "Which means you can't tell me anything! I mean it, no spoilers!"

MJ holds her hands out placatingly. "Damn, okay. Relax."

"But you can tell us," Amy says, looping her arm through MJ's. "As long as it doesn't pertain to our futures, you can tell us everything." Eyes glittering, she leans in. "And there's nothing I love more than a good MJ storytime."

Rory pouts playfully. "Not even your adoring husband?"

Amy pretends to think about it. "You're a close second."

"Um, can storytime wait until after we get something to eat?" MJ asks hopefully. "Preferably pizza. I could probably demolish an entire extra-large pie by myself right now. Maybe two." Her stomach rumbles loudly and she grins sheepishly. "Two and a half."

"Yes, pizza," the Doctor says. "But first, a quick crash course: I'm the Doctor, these are the Ponds—"

MJ furrows her brow and looks at Rory. "I thought you said your last name was Williams?"

"It is," Amy says. "But the Doctor prefers my maiden name, Pond, so he calls us the Ponds."

"Why be Amelia Williams when you could be Amelia Pond?" the Doctor questions.

"Oh, Amelia Pond is a beautiful name," MJ sighs dreamily. "But Amelia Williams is beautiful too. There's a children's book author named Amelia Williams. I loved her books growing up."

"Amelia Williams is fine," the Doctor huffs. "But Amelia Pond is vastly superior."

MJ clicks her tongue, biting back a grin. "If you say so."

"Carrying on," he says. "Er, we all know you're a demigod, and...do I have permission to call you Tilly?"

"You and you alone," she confirms.

The Doctor beams. "Well, that settles that, then." He claps his hands together and runs around the console, manipulating controls in a seemingly random order. "Pizza, here we come! Just you wait, Matilda Josette Winslow. The best pizza in the universe, coming right up!"

He throws a particularly oversized lever and the room lurches. MJ, Rory, and Amy all nearly fall flat on their faces.

"Didn't miss this," MJ grumbles, holding onto the railing for dear life.

The lurching lasts for about three minutes before the room settles and the Doctor turns to them with a proud smile. "We're here!"

"Oh, thank the gods," MJ sighs. She glances down at herself and realizes. "Wait, I need to get changed. My clothes are dirty and dusty from—"

"La, la, la, can't hear you!" the Doctor interjects, slapping his hands over his ears. "La, la, la, no spoilers!"

MJ rolls her eyes. She walks right up to him and yanks his hands down. "I was going to say 'from our last adventure.' Don't be so dramatic."

The Doctor hardly seems to hear her, focusing more on the fact she's holding his hands in hers. He looks at her with a timid smile. "You, er, said you were going to get changed?"

"Right, yeah," she says. She drops his hands and folds her arms over her chest. "Um, any tips on what to wear?"

He blinks at her. "Why are you asking me how to dress?"

"Because I don't know what planet we're on," she reminds him.

"Oh, right." Pink dusts his cheeks. "Uh, wear whatever you like. Shouldn't be a problem with the locals. Just, er, dress for hot weather."

"Okay. Be back as soon as possible!"

MJ races up the same set of stairs the Doctor had come down and lets the phantom hand in hers guide her to her room. Normally, MJ would opt for a pair of shorts and a cute shirt, but today, she wants to do a little experiment. She finds a lovely blue floral dress in her closet with a bustier-style top, sweetheart neckline, and spaghetti straps she has to tie herself. It ends mid-thigh and, when she smooths the skirt down, her heart soars at the discovery of pockets. She does a half-up look with her hair, grabs a white cardigan in case it gets cold, and then, a pair of strappy white sandals later, she's ready for the universe's best pizza.

She returns to the console room, sliding down the metal railing instead of taking the stairs. "I didn't make you guys wait too long, did I?"

MJ's experiment is an instant success — when the Doctor turns to look at her, his jaw drops and his eyes practically bulge out of his head. He very unsubtly looks her up and down, eyes lingering on her legs and her chest. A red flush crawls up his neck and slowly takes over his entire face.

MJ plays dumb. "It's not too much, is it? Maybe I should change into—"

"No!" the Doctor exclaims so loudly that MJ, Rory, and Amy all startle. The color of his face goes from bright red to a deep crimson. "I mean, um, you look very, very nice. Definitely no need to get changed."

He tugs at his collar and turns to the doors. Amy and MJ lock eyes, and the girls share a smirk.

The Doctor throws the doors open and steps out. MJ, Rory, and Amy follow him out into a bright new world.

"This is Pizza," the Doctor introduces, gesturing grandly.

They're in what must be a park, the grass a vivid purple and the stone pathing a worn yellow. The trees' leaves are a deep blue, twinkling like gemstones on the silver branches. On all sides of them, beyond the trees, is a glittering, bustling city. The buildings are so tall they disappear into the cloud layer, and the architecture is what Annabeth would call neo-futurist. People of all species pass them by as MJ and her new friends gape at the sight before them.

"The air tastes..." Amy smacks her lips and scrunches up her nose. "Minty."

"Wait, you said this is Pizza," MJ says, tying her sweater around her waist. "This city is called...Pizza?"

"What? No," the Doctor says, almost offended. "That'd be ridiculous. The city's called Farn. The planet is called Pizza."

Rory shoots him a look. "I'm sorry, are you telling us you've brought us to Pizza Planet?"

"No, it's not Pizza Planet, it's just Pizza," the Doctor corrects. "The planet Pizza, home of the best pizza in the universe."

"Is that why it's named Pizza?" Amy asks.

The Doctor waves his hand dismissively. "No, it's the best pizza in the universe because the planet is named Pizza and, well, they felt an obligation to earn the name." He offers MJ his arm. "Shall we?"

"I think we shall," she says brightly, taking his arm. "But don't we have to lock the TARDIS?"

The Doctor raises his hand and snaps his fingers, and the TARDIS doors slam shut on their own. Then the TARDIS makes a beeping sound, like the kind a car makes when you press the lock button twice. The Doctor has that self-satisfied smile again.

Amy rolls her eyes. "Oh, you think you're so impressive."

"I am so impressive," the Doctor says, smile immediately collapsing into an indignant pout. "I'm incredibly impressive. I'm the second-most impressive person you'll ever meet in your life."

Rory smirks. "The first being MJ, I assume?"

"Well, obviously," the Doctor says. "Now, come along, Ponds. Pizza is this way!"

He tugs MJ along, down the yellow pathing to a sterling white sidewalk. Amy and Rory are just a few steps behind, walking arm-in-arm.

The Doctor's gaze flickers to her necklace. "So, this is very early days for you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she says. "This is only my second jump, or whatever you want to call it."

Something akin to disappointment passes over his face but it's gone so quickly she thinks she might've imagined it.

"Lots to learn then," the Doctor says cheerily. "But first, pizza!"

"Pizza on planet Pizza," MJ says, grinning like an idiot. "Gods, I love traveling with you."

The Doctor beams at her. "I love traveling with you too."

"Good thing we're stuck with each other, then," she jokes.

"Brilliant thing," he agrees. "Best thing."

She bumps her hip into his. "So, tell me about this face. Likes, dislikes...?"

"Oh, well, I don't know how much I can tell you," he says. "Spoilers and such. Um...I like you. And the Ponds, bowties, jammie dodgers, fish fingers and custard, and...well, that's about it, really."

"You like me?" she teases, pressing into his side.

"Always," he says firmly, face red. "From now on, whatever face you meet, just assume that's a given. You and me, friends forever."

The question slips out before MJ can stop herself. "But we're not just friends, right?"

The Doctor frowns deeply. "Of course not. We're best friends." Before MJ can tell him that, actually, that's not what she was asking, his face lights up. "Ah, here we are!"

He drags MJ into a restaurant called Zuzu's Pizza. It looks so much like an old-school Italian place back on Earth that it feels out of place on planet Pizza. The restaurant is jam-packed with a line out the door, but the Doctor cuts the line as if it doesn't exist and tells the purple-skinned host, "Table for four please."

"Do you have a reservation?" the host asks.

The Doctor reaches into his pocket with his free hand, pulls out his psychic paper, and flips it open. "Do I need a reservation?"

The host's three eyes go comically wide. "Oh, I'm so sorry, your Highness. I'll find a table for you and your friends immediately."

"Thank you," the Doctor says smugly.

The host rushes off and Rory raises his eyebrows at the Doctor. "Your Highness?"

The Doctor checks the psychic paper. "Yes, it seems he thinks I'm the king of Pepperonia."

"Pepperonia?" MJ echoes incredulously. "Is that actually a real kingdom or did the psychic paper make that up?"

"No, it's very much real," the Doctor says. "Funnily enough, it's not on Pizza, though. It's on a planet called Gleeb Nine. He thinks we're Gleebians."

Amy smirks. "So, if you're the king of Pepperonia, then MJ must be your queen, yeah?"

"Well, obviously," MJ says. "Someone has to keep the kingdom from falling apart and it's not going to be this guy."

"Oi!" the Doctor exclaims over MJ and Amy's giggles. "I'd be an excellent king."

MJ taps the tip of his nose. "I'll believe it when I see it."

The host returns, shaking and sweating. "R-Right this way, your Highness."

He bows so low his antennae brush the floor, then leads them through the restaurant to a private table on a balcony overlooking the city of Farn. The host hands out four menus, bows again, then bustles away.

"If I had known we were going to be impersonating royalty, I would've dressed nicer," MJ jokes. She sits on the east end of the table on the right, the Doctor to her left. Across from her is Rory and next to him is, of course, Amy.

"No, no, you look wonderful," the Doctor assures her. He leans over as far as possible, paying no attention to the arm of the chair digging into his ribs. He tugs lightly on her dress strap, careful not to undo the bow. "Is this new?"

Her face warms. "Um, I guess. I just found it in my closet."

"I like it," he says, cheeks pink. He tears his eyes from her cleavage to smile softly at her. "But I like everything you wear."

"As you should," she says primly, praying he doesn't notice the goosebumps along her arms. "I'm very stylish."

"So are we sharing or are we each getting our own pie?" Amy asks very loudly. MJ and the Doctor startle, and Amy shoots them an annoyed look. "Yes, we're here too, by the way."

MJ's face feels like it's on fire. "Sorry. Um..." She looks at the menu for the first time. Despite being on an alien planet, all of the menu items seem relatively normal. "I think we should get a bunch and share."

"Sounds good to me," the Doctor says. He slips his arm around MJ's shoulders. "Whenever we're ready, we can just order on the screen."

The screen in question is rectangular and in the dead center of the table. At the moment, it displays a screensaver of an eternally blooming garden. The same flowers bloom along the vibrant green vines that wrap around the intricate metal railing of the balcony.

They debate about what to get for six minutes, forty-three seconds, and two milliseconds before Rory asks a crucial question that they really should've considered beforehand. "Wait, how are we paying?"

"Do we have to pay?" Amy counters. "They think he's royalty. For some reason, rich people always get stuff for free."

"Just further proof of how fucked capitalism is," MJ says with a sigh. "Should we, like, ask? Is that super unclassy?"

"Let's order some drinks and see if they say anything," the Doctor suggests. He leans over and starts tapping on the screen.

Rory frowns. "Er, Doctor? Aren't you going to ask us what we want?"

"I think I know you all well enough to order for you," the Doctor says. "Wine for Amy, a pint for Rory, and fun mocktails for me and MJ."

MJ grins and kicks her feet excitedly. "Ooh, I love a fun mocktail!"

The Doctor shoots a smug smile Rory's way. "See?"

"Relax, you," Amy says, rolling her eyes. "Not everything's a competition."

"But if it was, I'd be winning," the Doctor says.

A feminine person with pink skin and pearlescent horns delivers their drinks.

"Order whatever you like," they say as they hand out each drink. "You and your friends' meals are on the house, your Highness."

"That's very kind of you," the Doctor says. "What's your name?"

"Minxly," they say shyly.

"Thank you for the excellent service, Minxly," MJ speaks up, raising her mocktail in a sort of toast.

Minxly bows. "Anything for our esteemed guests." And then they scurry off, leaving MJ and her friends alone once more.

MJ takes an experimental sip of her drink and her eyes widen. "Is this a lavender lemonade mocktail?"

"Essentially, yes," the Doctor says. "Is it good?"

"It's amazing!" she gushes. "What'd you get?"

"Something called the Merry Berry," he says. The Merry Berry is a deep mauve and very bubbly. "I didn't actually look at the ingredients. I just liked the name."

MJ offers up her drink. "Sip for a sip?"

"Deal."

They swap drinks. The Doctor's is much tarter than MJ would've expected. Too tart. She succeeds in not making a face and nearly sighs in relief when they swap back.

"Should we order then?" Rory asks.

"I'm on it!" the Doctor declares.

He taps at the screen for six minutes, twelve seconds, and nineteen milliseconds. MJ and the Ponds exchange worried looks but he did a good job ordering their drinks, so perhaps their fears are unfounded. While they wait for their food to arrive, MJ regales Amy and Rory with a tale of the time she and the Doctor met Charles Dickens, as they apparently hadn't heard that one before.

"Did you really tell Charles Dickens you like the Muppet version of A Christmas Carol?" Amy asks incredulously.

MJ shrugs. "What can I say? The Muppet version slaps."

"It is indeed a masterpiece," the Doctor agrees, grinning.

Amy and Rory both get a good laugh out of MJ's retelling of her argument with the Doctor over letting the Gelth use corpses as their vessels. They're very good at listening — they react appropriately, laughing, gasping, or grimacing at the right times. MJ's always liked telling stories, but it isn't until this very moment that she realizes just how much she enjoys it. She's almost disappointed when the food starts to arrive.

The Doctor had ordered a lot of food. Like, a lot of food. The staff struggle to fit six different extra-extra-large pizzas on the table. MJ, Amy, Rory, and the Doctor try to help rearrange everything, resulting in the Doctor nearly knocking over his drink and Amy accidentally shattering the ordering screen. The Doctor quickly repairs it with his sonic screwdriver before any of the staff notice.

"Those two are just for you," the Doctor says to MJ, pointing to a white pizza with mushrooms and a Margherita pizza.

MJ immediately tucks in. She alternates between pizzas with every slice. She finishes both pizzas and her drink in the time it takes the others to finish two slices each.

"Oh my gods," Amy giggles. "We've got to get you in one of those food-eating competitions. You'd dominate."

MJ smirks. "Yeah, that's what Bill said."

"Who's Bill?" Rory asks.

"Oops," MJ says with a grimace. She wipes her face clean with her cloth napkin. "Spoilers."

The Doctor, still holding a slice of pizza, hastily clamps his hands over his ears, getting sauce in his hair. MJ bites back a long sigh. The man she's going to spend the rest of her life with, and he's the biggest dork in the universe.

"Is he going to do this every time I say the word 'spoilers?'" she asks.

Rory shrugs. "He's not normally like this. Honestly, I think he's projecting."

"Am not!" the Doctor exclaims, still holding his hands over his ears. A piece of pepperoni slides off the pizza slice and lands on his shoulder.

"Yes, you are," Amy says, clearly trying not to laugh. "You're so worried about giving MJ spoilers that you overreact to her itty bitty baby spoilers."

The Doctor pouts. "I'm not overreacting! I can't have any knowledge of my future or it'll change everything and cause untold damage to the timeline!"

MJ leans over and tugs on the Doctor's wrist. "Relax, Doc. We'll get through this together, okay?" On impulse, she presses a quick kiss to his pulse point. "And together, there's very little we can't accomplish."

His face is bright red again. Gods, she's really enjoying the effect she has on this Doctor — Bowtie, she'll call him. It's so hilariously easy to get him all flustered. She can't make Leather Jacket blush like this. And she seemed to have no effect on Magician, which totally doesn't trigger her anxiety at all. But this Doctor? He's very...reactive. She likes it.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly.

She picks the piece of pepperoni off his shoulder and cleans the sauce out of his hair with a napkin. "No need to apologize."

"You're the one who's new to this," the Doctor says, setting down his slice of pizza so he can flap his hands anxiously. "You're the one still acclimatizing to everything. This is old news to me now. I should be doing my best to support you, not the other way around."

"Why can't we just do our best to support each other?" MJ asks. She leans over and rests her chin on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his right arm and batting her eyes. "Why does it have to be one or the other?"

His blush worsens. "You're right," he mumbles.

"Always," she says and taps the tip of his nose.

Amy watches them with a smirk. "Doesn't matter when or where. The Doctor and MJ will always be the Doctor and MJ."

The Doctor perks back up. "Well, then. Shall we finish this meal befitting of royalty with some dignity?"

MJ beams. "I think we shall."

*

After they stuff themselves silly at Zuzu's Pizza, MJ, the Doctor, and the Ponds take a stroll around the city of Farn. They stumble upon a market fair and do a bit of shopping. Amy buys a delicate silver charm bracelet, currently void of charms. The Doctor finds a pizza-patterned bowtie and a box of broken gadgets, perfect for tinkering. Rory tries to avoid getting anything but stumbles upon some alien medical textbooks that pique his interest. As for MJ, she simply can't resist purchasing many, many bolts of fabrics, some of which have moving patterns. The Doctor pays for everything with a credit stick like the kind they'd used on Satellite Five.

On their way back to the TARDIS, they stop for ice cream that never melts. When ordering, the Doctor asks for "chef's choice," which is how he ends up with a cone stacked so tall that eating it is a balancing act. It's ultimately too much ice cream for him, so MJ and the Ponds take a scoop each to lessen the load. They take their time walking through the park. It's a beautiful day in Farn, the suns just starting to dip below the horizon, the sky turning a myriad of colors that reflect infinitely in the towering windows of the skyscrapers. MJ can't stop stealing glances at the Doctor. He just looks so happy. She's not sure she's ever seen him quite this happy.

The Doctor opens the TARDIS doors with a snap of his fingers and takes them into space, putting the stabilizers on so MJ doesn't drop the stack of bolts she's carrying. As soon as they're parked once more, the Ponds retire to their room, Amy complaining of a stomachache.

"Want help taking those back to your room?" the Doctor asks a bit shyly.

It's just the two of them now. MJ's first time being completely alone with this Doctor. She can't help but feel a little nervous. She was just getting to know Leather Jacket and now she has to get to know two (for now) additional Doctors. And that's not even counting all the companions she's met so far and the ones she has yet to meet. Gods, this is overwhelming.

"Um, yeah," she says lamely.

He takes half of the bolts from her and they walk to her room in awkward silence. MJ doesn't know what to say. She keeps waiting for him to take the initiative and say something, but the closer they get to her room, the more she suspects he's waiting for her to do the same thing.

The Doctor picks up his pace to get the door for her, and then they take turns holding all of the bolts so the other can take their shoes off. Shoeless, they drop the fabric off in her craft room. Arms now empty, they turn to look at each other, clearly thinking the same thing: Now what?

"Thank you for today," MJ blurts out, spinning her ring anxiously. "Farn is really nice. And the food was incredible."

His entire face lights up. "A good choice for your first outing with this face, then?"

"A great choice," she confirms. "I really like the Ponds so far, too. I can see why you love them so much."

"They're family," the Doctor says with an almost embarrassed shrug, his hands clasped behind his back.

MJ raises her eyebrows. "Family, huh?" She takes a few steps closer to him. "Sounds awfully domestic, don't you think?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" he grumbles.

"Never ever," she sing-songs.

He can't even pretend to be mad at her for very long. Fondness seeps through and softens his scowl into a warm smile. "Tilly?"

"Yeah?"

"You're the most amazing person I've ever met," he tells her, eyes soft and shining.

Her breath catches in her throat. That's quite the praise coming from someone who's over nine hundred years old. She's not sure what to say, so she just holds out her arms. He practically throws himself at her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her hair. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her ear against his right heart. He smells of tweed, motor oil, vanilla, and a dash of cinnamon.

"Tilly, my Tilly," he sighs almost reverently. "I'm so lucky to know you."

"It goes both ways," she says. To her embarrassment, tears well in her eyes. "Gods, I can never complain about the Fates again because they brought me to you."

The Doctor's embrace tightens. He lowers his mouth to her ear. "I would like to kiss you if that's alright."

Her face warms. "Permission granted."

MJ's first kiss with this Doctor is soft and sweet, lasting only six seconds before he pulls away and kisses the top of her head, cupping her face in his hands. "How do you feel? Do you need to rest? I know it's early days, so the, uh, traveling takes more out of you."

She looks up at him through her eyelashes. "If I go to bed, will you stay? I don't want to be alone."

"Of course, I'll stay," he says, sounding almost offended she'd dare to think otherwise.

"Would you..." Gods, her face is on fire, but the exhaustion she's been trying to ignore has settled into her bones and now she feels like she hardly has the energy to walk to her bed. "Would you help me get changed?"

"I'd be honored," the Doctor says earnestly.

He scoops her up and carries her to the bench at the foot of the bed. He asks her what pajamas she wants. She asks for her camp shirt and gray sweatpants. To her surprise (and delight), he knows exactly where everything is in her dresser. He grabs her a white tank top and a pair of pink fuzzy socks too, and then he's kneeling in front of her, helping her out of her dress. MJ's too tired to make any jokes or even feel turned on when he takes off her bra. It takes all of her remaining energy just to lift her arms and hips when told.

Once her pajamas are on, the Doctor carries her to her bed and tucks her in.

"Be right back," he promises. He kisses her forehead and then sprints out of the room, probably to change into something more comfortable.

MJ tries to wait for him to come back before closing her eyes, but gods, her eyelids are so heavy and she doesn't have the strength to keep them open. She's asleep in a matter of seconds.

*

She's back in the cave with Luke, but this time, she fights.

She kicks and claws and punches and bites. Luke is strong and cruel, but she's stronger and clever. She pins him to the ground, her knee digging into his diaphragm. MJ draws her hunting knife to deliver the final blow to his heart and watches with pleasure as warm blood gushes from the wound, soaking her hands and staining her camp shirt. She twists the knife to maximize his pain; if the roles were reversed, she knows he'd do the same to her.

"MJ...why..."

MJ's blood runs cold. No. No, it can't be. She lifts her gaze from the fatal injury and sees not Luke, but the Doctor, leather jacket and all, staring back at her, betrayal written all over his beautiful face. Her kind, brave, wonderful Doctor, is bleeding out. And it's all her fault.

"No," she whispers. "No, no, no, it wasn't...I didn't mean to...I thought..."

"How could you do this to me?" the Doctor demands, eyes shining with tears as the life drains from him. "You're my best friend."

"I'm sorry," she weeps, pulling him into a hug and burying her face in the crook of his neck. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm so sorry."

"I don't forgive you," he murmurs in her ear. His last words. "I'll never forgive you."

The Doctor goes limp in her arms. She sobs over his body, his blood endlessly spilling out of the wound in his chest, filling the cave until she drowns in it.

*

MJ shoots up in bed with a sharp gasp, heart pounding in her chest. "Doctor?"

"I'm right here," Bowtie says — though he's exchanged his bowtie and tweed for a plain gray T-shirt and purple pajama pants. He's kneeling next to her, close but not touching. "It's okay. It was just a nightmare. You're okay. You're safe."

"I killed you," she sobs, turning away in shame. "I killed you."

"No, you didn't," the Doctor assures her. His voice is perfectly gentle, almost a caress in of itself. Slowly, he reaches for her hand. When she shows no signs of retreating, he takes her hand in his and presses it to his chest, right over his right heart. "See? Heart's still beating. Both of them are, actually. Dead men's hearts don't beat, right? So, logically, if mine are beating, then I must be alive, right?"

MJ forces herself to take a deep breath. Her hand slides up his chest to the pulse point on his neck. The four-beat rhythm is an immediate balm. She sniffles. "Right."

"See?" He smiles at her, a beam of sunlight in the darkened room. "Everything's okay. It was just a nightmare."

"Just a nightmare," she echoes.

The Doctor squeezes her arm. "You want to go back to bed or...?"

MJ thinks about it, chewing on her bottom lip as she weighs her options. Eventually, she nods. "Yeah, I want to try and get more sleep."

"Do you think it would help if maybe I held you?" he asks.

"Yeah," she says. "I think it would."

They lay back down, his arms around her, her ear pressed to his chest over his right heart, and her hand over his left heart.

"Is this okay?" the Doctor asks her.

"Yeah, it's nice," MJ says quietly. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he says. "Always."

She drifts off to the lullaby of his heartbeat.

*

It's MJ and the Doctor's turn to make breakfast. They make bacon and waffles with homemade whipped cream, sliced strawberries and bananas, and maple syrup in MJ's third TARDIS kitchen. This one is cluttered and kitschy, with silver finishings, colorful appliances, and a family-sized table with mismatched chairs. It's a little smaller than the other kitchens, but there's still plenty of room to maneuver around each other, even with the Doctor being as chaotic a chef as he is.

"How the Hades did you get waffle batter in your hair?" MJ asks, frowning.

"I'm very talented," the Doctor says with a bright smile. He cleans the batter out of his hair. He's wearing a bright pink apron that says 'Kiss the chef!'

The Ponds shuffle in, still in their pajamas like MJ. Only the Doctor's dressed for the day. They pour themselves cups of coffee and plop down at the kitchen table with their matching mugs.

"You two have been busy," Amy comments, eyeing the mess MJ and the Doctor have made.

"We made waffles!" MJ says cheerily. She sets down the platters of fresh waffles and bacon on the table, the Doctor a step behind with the whipped cream, fruit, and maple syrup.

"This looks amazing," Rory praises. He looks extra attractive right now — 'fresh out of bed' is a great look on him.

"Thanks," MJ says, heat rushing to her cheeks.

She sits down across from Amy and makes herself a plate. She opts for banana coins to top her waffle while the Doctor tops his with strawberries. Amy and Rory both go for a mix of the two fruits. The warm and buttery waffles are the perfect balance of crisp and chewy. They're all too busy eating to talk, the only sounds of clinking forks and long sips of coffee. Well, breakfast tea for the Doctor.

"So, what are the plans for today?" Amy asks once all of their plates are clean, hands wrapped around her mug of coffee.

"Nothing yet," the Doctor says. He stretches his arms and drapes one across the back of MJ's chair. "I figure I'll come up with something by the time you lot get dressed."

MJ frowns. "But how am I supposed to know how to dress if I don't know where we're going?"

"I'm sure whatever you pick will be perfect," the Doctor tells her, and then presses a sticky kiss to her cheek, drawing giggles from her.

Rory scratches his cheek. "I just realized we have to clean up."

"Oh, don't remind me," Amy groans. "Just let me enjoy this post-waffle bliss a little longer."

MJ grins, finishes her coffee, and gets to her feet. "I'm going to go get ready. Good luck, Ponds."

"Oh, really?" Rory complains. "Et tu, Brute?"

"Sorry, it just rolls off the tongue better than the Williamses," MJ says with a sheepish shrug.

"Excuses, excuses," Rory mutters, but there's a warmth in his eyes that assures her it's all in good fun.

Amy waves her off. "Go. We've got things handled here."

"Don't have to tell me twice," MJ says, and then she's running out of the kitchen and back to her room.

*

MJ debates what to wear for...an embarrassing length of time. She eventually settles on a wine-purple mock turtleneck with long cuffed sleeves. It's patterned with white stars, crescent moons, and stardust. She pairs it with her dark-wash denim overalls and a black belt with a crescent moon buckle. She finishes the look with a pair of dangly crescent moon earrings she'd made on a whim but never worn and her trusty combat boots.

She decides to leave her hair down for today, so she just puts some products in to make sure it doesn't frizz. Then she spritzes herself with perfume, checks to make sure she has everything she needs (ring, new phone, Snoopy watch, camp necklace, mini first-aid kit, etc.), and leaves her room. MJ's two steps down the hallway before she changes her mind, doubles back, applies some lip gloss and mascara, and okay, now she's ready for the day.

When she reaches the console room, she sees only the Doctor.

"Hey!" she greets, sidling up to him. "Any idea where we're going yet?"

"Not sure just yet. I was thinking we could take a poll," the Doctor says. He steps back to get a good look at her outfit. "You look lovely. Love the space theme."

MJ ducks her head shyly. "Yeah, well, seemed fitting."

"MJ!" Amy pokes her head out of the hallway. "Do you want another cup of coffee? We made a fresh batch."

"Sure," MJ says, and Amy disappears back down the hallway. MJ looks back at the Doctor, smiling softly. "I like seeing you like this."

"Like what?" the Doctor asks.

She reaches out and brushes his hair back. "Not afraid of getting attached."

"Yes, well, that's thanks to you," he says, taking her hand in both of his. He turns her hand over and traces circular Gallifreyan on her palm. "Well, and Rose, and...but mostly you. Even before, you know, everything with Blon, and..."

He trails off. She realizes whatever he's writing, it's the same thing over and over again.

"Are you ever going to teach me circular Gallifreyan?" MJ questions and raises her eyebrows. "Or any form of Gallifreyan?"

"Someday," he teases. "Can't give away all of my secrets just yet, can I?"

MJ pouts. "But you know all my secrets."

"Do I?" he counters with a lift of his brow.

"Coffee delivery!" Amy sings, coming down the stairs with a mug in each hand, the same ones they'd used at breakfast. Rory's on her heels. Amy passes MJ her mug. "Made just the way you like it."

MJ takes a sip and smiles. "Oh, that's perfect. Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Amy says with a self-satisfied smile.

Amy joins her husband on the other side of the console and they clink their mugs. MJ's smile widens. Oh, that's adorable.

MJ takes a long sip of her coffee and turns back to the Doctor. "So, you were saying something about a poll?"

Before the Doctor can answer, he makes a pained expression and spins around, reaching into his jacket. He pulls out his psychic paper and flips it open in one fluid motion, revealing a message that makes MJ's blood run cold: Please save me from the monsters.

The Doctor tucks the psychic paper away and starts whirling around the console, manipulating controls seemingly at random. "Haven't done this in a while."

"Um, done what?" Amy asks nervously. "What're you doing?"

The Doctor doesn't answer at first, too busy running around. Then he stops beside MJ and locks eyes with her, grinning. "Making a house call."

*

here's the only chapter you're getting today. definitely not getting another one. enjoy!!