#kimbermac

“THA' lad is a pure numpty!  I've 'ad ta keep tabs on 'is arse this 'ole time cause a you! Still tryin' ta sell tha' garage door opener in 'is 'ead 'e is.”

“Hang on, we’re blaming me, now? I think just putting that lad on his bike was more than fair treatment considering he was trying to muck up history.”

For Kimber Mac it would be, ostensibly, a week later, barring any shenanigans with other time travelers or dilated chronological perception from being bored at work.

It had been slightly longer for The Anomaly, as the first time she had tried to come back and visit Kim she had ended up on a damaged warp ship called The SS Mata Hari-- which, among other things, was the wrong spelling of “MacLeod” --fighting deranged clockwork droids with a tendency to conscript repair crews by force.

The second time she had tried, she had ended up in Cardiff during The Blitz fighting Weevils with 1940s Torchwood Three, though she had the chance then to recharge Magenta off of the then-open Rift.

But the third time, thank goodness, had been the charm.

And thus The Clever Magenta Box materialized on a carefully-selected spot on Kimber Mac’s back lawn, so as to not undo Kim’s meticulous gardening.

“Ah, but see,” Kurt held up an instructive, holographically Caucasian finger, “if it were an ‘Angel,’ it would be-- quantum locked, yes?” 

“And if that were so--” he narrowed glittery blue eyes in his image-induced face. “--I would not be able to teleport the statue. I mean, I am no Hank McCoy, but it seems as though quantum things would factor into the act of jaunting between dimensions?”

Winzeldorf, Germany.

Not so very long after.

The statue in the town square was decidedly not as strictly angelic in appearance as most of The Weeping Angels in UNIT files had been-- it was more aviangelic. It was also much smaller, a figurine atop a pedestal. But certain escapades indicated that The Angels could go off-model, so that didn’t rule anything out.

A more... concrete test was in order?

A little smile danced upon her face.

Honestly, she was daft as a brush at the moment, no idea who she was, but she wasn’t unhappy. 

Just... daft.

The blonde swiveled on the barstool at the little teashop and beamed an absolutely giddy grin at the woman a couple stools down. “Oi, have you tried this stuff?”

She gestured to the steaming teacup beside her like it was the main attraction at some World’s Fair or other. “It’s brilliant. Fireworks all up in me brain, like.” 

“A First Folio of Shakespeare!” Kurt crowed, hopping up onto a short wall beside the sidewalk they were walking down, traipsing along the top rim of it with the effortlessness of a born circus performer. “When you invited me to meet you in Washington I hoped we’d be able to pick up where we left off on our last date, but I had no idea we would be in the presence of such-- theatrical legacy.”

He hopped down from the wall, twirling as he descended, his tail rippling and trailing behind him as he moved, and landed facing her, his cloven hands on her shoulders, his golden eyes glittering, his eerie grin spread ear to pointed ear. 

“Kimber McLeod, I could kiss you.”

For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses.

@kimbermac - Mae’s taken to jotting down where/when she spots ghosts for Kimber. She also volunteers for testings--Which speaks to the trust that she has in the other woman.

@earthtonesandfedoras - Despite her occasional misgivings about Red, she will always make space and time for him and his business meetings. (Bonus: she always has Dembe’s favorite coffee rolls on hand as well.)

@oneidjitatatime - For a while Mae actually hated just how understanding Bobby was when they first met. It’s always easier for her to keep people at arm’s length if they’re less than personable.

{Continued from here.}

Mae nudged Kimber back, a small smile appearing on her lips as she did so.