STEALING EDEN Part One

  The world was at first a blurred set of images to her. Ideas that seemed disconnected, shapes that didn't fit together in any coherent pattern. She grabbed on to the first one she could lay hands on and clung to it with all her might. My name is Lynda. Lynda Day. A good name, she thought. Short, sweet and to the point. My name is Lynda. I am editor of the Junior Gazette. Another image flew by. Fire. Burning. I was there, she thought. I was burning. More images. More names. A face of a boy she once knew. He was burning. I was burning. She closed her eyes. She wasn't dead--at least she didn't think so. Did she dream these images? She wasn't at first sure. She opened her eyes again, and the world became a little more clear.

She was lying in a hospital bed, but the room looked strange. No windows, she observed. This couldn't be the Norbridge hospital--it didn't look right. There wasn't any hospital equipment to be seen. No noise could be heard from the corridors. Nothing could be heard at all, except for a low hum emanating from the lights. The room had a table beside the bed and a chair in the corner. Over the chair were draped some clothes--not hers, she observed, but then she was only wearing an oversized Oxford shirt and she suddenly felt very insecure. Where was she?

Faintly she could hear footsteps in the corridor outside. They became louder, and she pulled the blankets on the bed up around her. Finally, the feet entered the room and Lynda saw they were attached to a woman with short black hair and dressed in a leotard and very short shorts. With that hourglass figure, it was a good thing Spike was not around, or she'd be having to knee him in the groin to keep him from drooling. Where is he? Where am I? Lynda hiccuped--loudly.

"You're awake," the woman said. "How are you feeling?"

"Lost," Lynda replied sullenly. "I don't remember much of how I got here. Or where here is."

"I'm not surprised. You inhaled a lot of smoke before we found you, and when we tried to rescue you, you became quite hysterical. The Doctor had to sedate you." The girl stuck out a hand.

"My name is Peri, by the way."

"Lynda Day," Lynda replied as they shook hands. Then Lynda furrowed her brow. "I do not

get hysterical," she said in a raised voice.

Peri looked annoyed. "Whatever," she said.

"Now tell me where I am," Lynda said. "This doesn't look like a hospital. You don't look like a nurse, so what's going on?"

"Well," Peri began clumsily, "that's a bit of a long story."

"I've got all day. I'm stuck in bed. Humor me."

"Your building was on fire, and you were trapped, remember?"

"Yeah," Lynda said. "I remember. The exits were blocked. I tried to get out the back way, but then there was this blue box.....Something of Colin's, I expect. It was in front of the door, and I couldn't move it. The door opened and I fell inside." Lynda closed her eyes and thought a moment. "That's all I remember clearly. The rest is sort of jumbled. Doesn't make sense."

"That's where things get a little bit complicated," Peri said, staring off into the corner absent-mindedly. "You're still inside that blue box. And orbiting Mars, for all I know."

A voice from the corridor boomed out, "Earth, Peri. Earth. Do try to get your planets right."

At that moment, a garishly dressed man entered the room wearing an outfit that simply defied description. Not even Tiddler dressing in the dark could come up with an orange and red plaid coat, green and yellow striped pants, and a blue polka-dot bow tie! Lynda looked at him and shook her head.

"Damn, why do I always get held hostage by clowns?"

"Clowns?" sputtered the oddly dressed man. "Are you implying my clothes fail to meet your approval?"

"Not only is that the worst looking outfit I have ever seen," Lynda said, "the wearer leaves a great deal to be desired, too."

Peri stifled a giggle, and the man shot her an evil glance. "You, I take it, are the famous Lynda Day. I am the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

"In some quarters."

"And you rescued me," Lynda said.

"I most certainly did."

"Rubbish," Lynda said. "If you don't have a name, you must be one of Colin's flunkies, which explains what the box was doing in his office. What's your game, then?"

"Game?" asked the Doctor incredulously.

"Game," Lynda spat angrily. "Fire insurance? Rescue the poor damsel to sell papers? Real estate salesman looking to sell us a new building? Bah, wouldn't surprise me if you had something to do with the fire."

"You think I burned the place, you spoiled little brat? I don't believe I'm hearing this."

"How dare you! Get out!" Lynda jumped out of the bed and pointed towards the door.

Peri began motioning at Lynda frantically, playing some sort of game of charades from Lynda's view. This wasn't as important as the Doctor, who was continuing to protest vehemently.

"Out?" he screamed. "Out? This is my ship. Nobody tells me to get out!"

Peri was getting more insistent. "Lynda," she began.

"What IS it!"

"You might want to button that."

Lynda looked down at the shirt and turned beet red. The Doctor looked at Peri. Peri looked at the ceiling, and then gave up trying to contain herself. She pushed the Doctor out into the corridor laughing all the way, at least until she had to dodge a chair flying out into the corridor. Peri noted the clothes were thrown in the hall, too. A sheepish Lynda stuck her head out and asked if Peri could hand them back in. Once the door had closed, Peri doubled over in the corridor laughing.

"So you wanted to meet the famous Lynda Day, Doctor." Peri chuckled. "Are you satisfied yet?"

Clearly the Doctor was not. "Threw me out of my own TARDIS dispensary! Did you see that?

I have never met anyone so insufferable as Lynda Day, reporter."

"Have you tried looking in the mirror lately," Peri asked with a sweet smile.

After about a quarter of an hour, the door to the room opened and Lynda walked into the corridor. "Excuse me, I believe I was fighting with this gentleman," she said brusquely.

"Did the clothes fit?" Peri asked. Lynda glared at her. "You look fine, Lynda. You aren't running a newspaper today anyway."

"I want to be running a newspaper," Lynda said. "There is so much to put back together, and I have to do it."

"Well, until you thank me for saving your life AND apologize to me, you are staying right here."

Lynda grew angry at the Doctor and started to protest, but he continued talking right over her. "You can't walk out of here. You are currently on board my ship, and it is orbiting the Earth whether you wish to accept it or not. Four little words, Lynda: Thank you; I'm sorry."

"No, never, not a chance," she snapped. "That's five. I've never heard such rot. Orbiting outer space in a police box? What do you take me for?"

The Doctor walked away down the corridor. "The world thinks you're dead, Lynda Day," he called out to her. "They're going to bury you, bury the Junior Gazette, and go on about the business of life. Sarah will take the train home for the funeral, will console your friend Spike, and the two of them will fall in love and get married...."

"And who's fault is that?" Lynda yelled after him.

"Yours!" came the distant reply. "Four little words....."

Peri stood there watching it all with a bewildered grin on her face. Lynda had followed the Doctor down the corridor screaming at him. For once it isn't me doing this, she thought. She shrugged and set off after them. Eventually, she found them in the TARDIS console room. The scanner was on and pictured a serene Earth turning quietly in space. The Doctor was quiet. So too Lynda, who just stared at the screen.

"Oh God," she whispered, "it's true. It's all true."

Peri walked over and put a hand on Lynda's shoulder. "The Doctor is a Time Lord, and this craft can travel anywhere in time in space. He's not human."

"Two things I can't stand," Lynda said under her breath and remembering the late Virginia Hume, "are aliens and Americans."

"Well," the Doctor replied, "I'm not American and Peri's not alien....." Lynda turned and gave the Doctor a puzzled glance. "Oh, I read that in a book somewhere," he said off-handedly. "Spike was very clever with a phrase."

"You know Spike?" she asked. Time travel, she thought. Damn it; he's seen the future. "That bit about Spike and Sarah...."

"It could happen, in a world without Lynda Day," he said simply. "Can you give the story a better ending?"

"I don't know," came the very quiet reply.

Lynda didn't apologize that day, or even the next. I can't do that, she said to herself, and I don't know why. She had not seen much of the Doctor, who seemed to be avoiding her deliberately. Peri had given her a tour of the ship, which seemed to go on forever. Impossible, really, but Peri just shrugged and said "dimensional transcendence" as if that answered the question. Peri knew as little of things as she did on that score. Peri had been rescued from drowning and wound up a passenger aboard the TARDIS for some time--for a time traveler, she seemed remarkably vague as to her own life. She'd seen enough weirdness and death to last a lifetime, to listen to her talk of her adventures. Lynda wasn't really sure what to make of Peri. Peri seemed as argumentative at times where the Doctor was concerned as she was, and Peri seemed unsure what to make of him. Something about him being different in a past life, and said with enough wistfulness to make Lynda think Peri had loved the Doctor once.

Lynda had taken to reading in the vast library in the TARDIS to keep her mind occupied. The Doctor was a great collector of information, although his filing system was impossible to decipher and it seemed as though the books on the shelves moved about of their own volition when her back was turned. That she didn't really understand much of what she read didn't really matter. Anything to keep her mind occupied. Anything to forget, if only she could. She missed Spike, and missed him terribly. She was beginning to understand how Spike had felt when he'd almost died in the gas explosion on the Creswell Road. Life took on a new perspective when you came close to dying. She'd not learned that after the bank vault fiasco, and someone or something was trying to get her attention more forcefully this time. She was playing with a being that had the power to rewrite history, and playing very badly. She didn't hear the Doctor enter, and jumped a little when he spoke.

"Thinking, I see."

"Yeah," she replied without much enthusiasm.

"Four little words...."

"I wish I could."

"Well, it's a start," he said. "I have something for you. You can't read it, but it might interest you." He tossed a book at her, and she caught it without even thinking. She looked at the cover....

"Damn," she said in awe. "My autobiography?"

"You'll write it in the year 2012. It is very interesting reading, Lynda. You'll lead a full life."

"If I ever get home," Lynda said.

"That's up to you," he said. "Always has been."

"Doctor, I've wanted something like this my whole life," she said, holding up the book. "I've wanted to know what was going to happen to me. To know whether I was doing the right thing or not. And you say I can't read it!"

"That's not possible. You can't live that way. Not even I know what happens to me in my future. That's forbidden knowledge, and not something I feel the need to burden myself with."

"Spike always wanted to know if I loved him," Lynda said. "Sometimes I did. But I couldn't tell him because I didn't know how it would all end. If it was going to wind up hurting us both, why live through the pain?"

"If this is avoiding pain, I suggest you find an elevator shaft to fall down. You might feel better."

"I tried fire," Lynda said quietly. "Doesn't work that way."

"There are no guarantees in life, Lynda. You can choose to take David's way out of the miserable times, or you can choose to make the best of whatever life brings you. You should enjoy the moments you have with friends, because you never know how long you'll have them around."

"You've lost a few, I take it?" Lynda asked.

"Lost? I've watched some of them die before my eyes. Can you say that, Lynda?" Lynda shook her head. "You beat yourself up over the wrong things and the wrong people. You'll try and rescue a guy holding you hostage and who shot your friend Colin, but you'll let Spike twist in the wind for years. You weep over a blackmailer, yet you drove Kenny away and wrecked your friendship with Sarah because you are petty, conniving, and want the last word in everything."

Lynda's eyes darkened and the Doctor just stared at her. "Nothing is ever your fault, Lynda," he said. "Blame everyone for everything, expect the world and never give of it yourself."

"Do I ever get better at life, or am I always a bitch?" she asked him.

"You'll never be Mother Teresa, if that's any help. But you do get better. Perhaps because you have nowhere to go but up."

Lynda threw the book at him in disgust. He deftly caught it, and grinned. "Safer in my hands than yours," he cheerfully warbled. She buried her head in her hands.

"Can't even get that right....." she sobbed, and said no more for a very long time. She just sat there crying, and the Doctor stood and watched her from a distance.

Peri walked into the room and looked at the Doctor quizzically. "Aren't you going to do something?" her glance asked. He shrugged, as if to say "I've done too much as it is." Peri walked over and sat beside Lynda, giving her a hug which Lynda tearfully reciprocated. The Doctor slipped away quietly.

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