I'll be fine in the end. Probably.

@tiimelost​ - human 11

                           — Roy had just wanted to go off and see something interesting. It was always a sort of impulse for him- running up to Clara while they were at the house with a new idea of where they could go. He’d give the details, and she’d find a place. Sometimes, on rare occasions they would end up in danger, but he was hoping this wasn’t one of those times. It had been a month or two since he had actually… well MET Boss.

                  ❝     You there, sitting in my chair reading my books. I wanna do something today. C’mon. Ian is having his documentary night again, and I refuse to sit through Planet Earth again.    ❞

            Having  already  finished  up  her  markings,  Clara  was  curled  up  in  a  chair  reading  when  Roy  came  in.  She  wasn’t  startled,  rather  just  calmly  looking  up  once  she’d  finished  the  sentence  she  was  reading.  It  wasn’t  unusual  for  him  to  do  this  in  the  short  time  they’d  truly  known  each  other.  Marking  her  page,  the  book  was  set  down  &&  up  she  went.  

                    ❝Oh, but I love documentary night with Ian! He’s got the best commentary, don’t you agree?❞  She  was  being  serious. ❝But I s’pose, yes we can go on a trip. What d’you want to do, hm?❞

Hotch has been acting weird for days now, and the team had come in early ( which was another point against hotch’s recent behaviour – none of them ever arrive earlier than hotch, who is usually the first to arrive and the last to leave ) to try to compare notes and wonder what to do. It was nowhere near an anniversary ( and, even if it was, hotch never acted as he did now ), nor were there any big crises happening recently. 

( well, spencer had been shot two weeks ago, and alex had quit and they still hadn’t found a new teammate yet, but nothing personal to hotch. ) 

Spencer wasn’t quite paying attention to where he was walking, preoccupied by all of the information shared in the meeting, and he winces when the bump to another person had slightly jostled his neck injury ( still bandaged, but he tried to make it more subtle and hidden partially under his collar ). He glances down to see the woman he bumped into ( short, blonde hair woman, and judging by her accent, English, specifically from Yorkshire ) and blinks when her face widens into a large smile. He doesn’t recognise her, nothing about her appearance pings anything in his memory banks, and he narrows his eyes at the familiarity in her expression. 

He gets even more suspicious when she says she’s here for a routine inspection. The only government agency that allowed non-American citizens to be hired was Voice of America, and while it’s entirely possible that she was an American citizen and just still had a strong accent… considering how Hotch was acting recently… 

“Which agency are you from?” he asks, keeping his expression placid, as if barely interested in the question. He’s used to controlling his micro-expressions, keeping a placid expression as if not really knowing what was going on around him. The only people he really slipped around were the team, and even them, that was… dependent on the situation. 

            Honestly,  she  expected  questions  from  Spencer.  He  was  a  bright  young  man.  Clearly,  now  that  she  was  seeing  where  he  worked.  He’d  done  well  for  himself.  She  was  proud.  Maybe  once  this  was  all  sorted,  she’d  say  hello  properly.  But  for  now,  she  had  a  job  to  do.  Instead  of  answering  verbally,  she  reached  into  her  pocket  &&  pulled  out  the  psychic  paper.  That’d  tell  Spencer  all  he  needed  to  know.  Goodness,  she  loved  her  psychic  paper.  

            ❝That should clear everything up, then. D’you mind if I ask you a few questions, actually, since I’ve got you here?❞

                           — He looked up at Clara with a half sympathetic, half devious look. It wasn’t exactly necessary but it was the quickest way to get information that he had a recent memory about. He didn’t have time to sort through everything and find a better way- especially since he couldn’t get close to the other Doctor. Green eyes watched the simpler exchange, and he internally cursed himself.

                            Panic resided on the Doctor’s face, and then it came back. That was interesting. She was still worried, which made sense. He had his own questions as well, truth be told. Looking between Clara and the Doctor, he just nodded.

                  ❝     Right. We’ll take our leave again. September 12th, 8 o’clock? My- His. The Doctor’s usual cafe place?    ❞

                            Eyes trained on the Doctor, Clever had been asking for a meet up. The great thing about Clever- he memorized things much better than the Doctor had. He knew the times that were still available, which to be honest was quite a few. He could visit multiple times a day, which was something he wasn’t sure if the Doctor he had incorporated was aware of. Once he got an answer, he would leave.

                            Taking Clara home, his next stop was that time, that location about 30 minutes early. He was patient, unlike the Doctor. He could wait. Hopefully she was going to be able to meet him there. Whatever was going on, she said life or death. He didn’t have the certainty she got out of it alive, unlike the certainty he had that he would now.

                           So he’d just wait patiently, Silver under the table resting, and watching everyone who passed his little area. He could be pretty patient when he wanted to be, thankfully unlike how he… how the Doctor had been before.

            The  Doctor  just  looked  between  Mr.  Clever  &&  Clara  before  nodding  her  head.  She  had  loads  to  deal  with  right  now  -  no  time  to  deal  with  this  right  now.  She  gave  another  look  at  Clara,  almost  a  regretful  look  before  turning  around  &&  leaving.  It  was  time  for  her  to  utilise  her  ability  to  compartmentalise.  Once  she  took  care  of  everything - she’d  go  see  the  Cyberplanner.  

            By  the  time  she  arrived,  she  was  completely  worn  out.  Everything  had  taken  it’s  toll  on  her  &&  to  make  matters  worse,  she  had  to  stop  by  the  cafe  at  least  four  times  before  she  got  to  the  right  year.  She  just  couldn’t  keep  it  straight  what  year  it  was.  Finally  spotting  him  in  the  usual  seat,  she  plopped  down  across  from  him,  stone  faced.  She  was  hardly  in  the  mood  for  this,  but  the  sooner  dealt  with,  the  better.  

                    ❝Right then, sorry I’m a bit late; but now that we’re here, let’s get on with it shall we? I’ve no memory of.. this. You. Something must be wrong with the timeline - you shouldn’t exist. I know you’ve explained, but still, that doesn’t match up with the memories I have of my life - mind you, that’s becomin’ a recurring theme.❞

@tiimelost​ - 13th Doctor

                           — No, no White Rabbit could feel her bracer malfunctioning as she was at the tail end of the jump. She was just trying to visit some of her friends. Vincent and Jace. Some of the people she had met since she had been exiled. They were there for her a lot, so it only made sense to visit them. However the cold floor met her as she appeared in a flash of light in the TARDIS, and fell hard to the ground. Groaning as she pushed herself up, and rubbed her eyes. Every time. Every time! She was just trying to see her friends. Concern of where she landed was less important right now, because she had something important first. Pushing up the sleeve of her jacket, and looking at the lights flickering on her Temporal Passage Generator, she threw her head back and sighed.

                  ❝    Out of- OUT OF BATTERY?! Uuugh.     ❞

                            Falling back on the ground in exasperation, she just stared up at the ceiling of where she had landed. It was interesting design, and she could feel it wasn’t just a normal ship. Blinking, and sitting up again, actually taking in all of her surroundings, she barely noticed the other blonde staring at her as she just loudly, and tiredly huffed.

                  ❝    A TARDIS? The universe hates me. My bracer hates me. Stuck in a damned TARDIS with a Time Lord.     ❞

                            And she just fell to the ground again, staring at the ceiling. She’d noticed the figure, but if she ignored them, maybe they wouldn’t have to talk. There was only one kind of person that was in a TARDIS, after all. Lifting up the arm with the bracer, as if to show it off, she let it fall to the ground.

                  ❝     The Artron Crystal needs to charge. I don’t want to hear it. Just let me lay here in my suffering. My over dramatic, tired suffering, without getting a headache from you rattling on about something.     ❞

            She  was  alone  in  her  TARDIS.  The  Fam  were  back  home  for  now  &&  typically  she’d  skip  ahead  to  picking  them  up  again  because  she  absolutely  despised  being  alone,  but  she  needed  it  for  now.  Her  mood  had  been  no  less  than  foul  recently  &&  she  did  feel  terrible  at  how  she  snapped  at  the  Fam.  So  she  was  alone.  Until  she  wasn’t.  

            Her  head  snapped  up  when  she  heard  the  girl  on  her  TARDIS  floor.  How  was  anybody  in  here?  What?  She  scrambled  across  to  the  console  &&  ran  a  scan.  She  needed  more  information.  Even  with  the  arm  bracer,  she  shouldn’t  have  been  able  to  get  into  the  TARDIS.  Something  must’ve  malfunctioned.  Wouldn’t  be  the  first  time.  

❝What--? You should not be here!❞  She  ignored  that  the  girl  didn’t  want  to  hear  her  rambling,  but  this  needed  to  be  worked  out.  ❝I won’t stop ya bein’ here though, but once that thing is charged, you’ve gotta go.❞

            Her  eyes  went  back  to  the  console  monitor  once  the  scan  finished  &&  she  groaned  loudly.  Of  course.  This  was  just  her  luck  today  wasn’t  it?  

                    ❝Oh, no. You’re Zanthabarian?! Yeah, you’ve definitely got to go. I hate dealin’ with you lot.❞

Busy with paperwork and assuming it was just Tish again, when her mobile starts to ring, Martha picks up her ringing phone with one hand and holds it onto her ear with just her shoulder, addressing the person on the other line with a “Hello?” However, when she hears the greeting – and the voice connected to it – Martha blinks in confusion. There’s only one person that Martha knew that referred to himself as just “the Doctor”, but… 

Putting down her pen,Martha shifts in her seat so that she was leaning back, and she looks at the caller ID. This was definitely the phone she left with the Doctor, which meant… Martha put the phone back to her ear again, and she asks, “Doctor? Did you regenerate again? And you’re… female?”

            The  Doctor  only  laughed;  sometimes  even  now  she  forgot.  Still  though,  no  matter.  She  rushed  forward  to  the  console,  sending  the  TARDIS  flying.  She  could  track  Martha’s  location  via  the  cell  &&  she  thought  it’d  be  the  perfect  time  to  pop  by.  

                    ❝I have done, yeah. You know regeneration - it’s a lottery. First time I’ve been a woman, I quite like it though. Anyhow, mind if I pop on over? I’ll be there in about ten seconds.❞