The lock clicks beneath Peyton's key, causing the front door of her London flat to fall open, allowing the dim light of the street lights to illuminate her dark foyer.
Peyton steps inside, closing the door behind her and leaning back against the wood, sighing deeply.
It has been a long three weeks.
The sound of rustling crockery causes her eyes to snap open and her reflexes to engage.
Carefully and as quietly as possible, Peyton drops the handle of her suitcase to the floor and clutches her keys tightly in her hand, sonic pen in the other.
Forward she creeps, padding gently in the direction of her kitchen where she can see the glow of the light lighting up the space.
With one steadying breath, Peyton steps into the room, brandishing her mediocre weapons threateningly.
Instead of a shifty-looking intruder, she is greeted instead by the sight of the Doctor leaning against her countertop, Tupperware pot of leftover Shepard's pie in one hand and a fork in the other, looking at her under those severe eyebrows with a quizzical expression.
"Where the hell have you been?" She glares, tossing her keys onto the countertop and lowering her arms to the side.
"You know, Clara said the exact same thing," the Doctor says through a mouthful of food. He swallows and sets the leftovers beside him. "And I could ask the same as you."
"Doctor, I was at work," Peyton scowls. "In America, actually, I just got back."
She stomps back out to the hall where she had left her suitcase and drags it into the kitchen, lifting it up to lie it flat on her table. Peyton unzips it as aggressively as one can do so. She can feel the heavy gaze of the Doctor on her but refuses to give in just yet. "So where is she?"
"Clara?"
"No, the Queen of England. Yes, Clara," Peyton scoffs, pulling her dirty washing from her luggage into her arms and marching over to the washing machine beside the Doctor.
"Well, easy mistake."
Peyton fights a chuckle.
"Uh, no, she threw a cup of coffee at my head and told me to screw off," the Doctor says.
"Good for her," Peyton muses, slamming the door of the washing machine closed and reaching up to grab the detergent from the cabinet. "What took you so long?"
"I got distracted," he replies.
"By what?"
"You can always find something, come on!" The Doctor turns abruptly, heading in the direction of Peyton's living room where she guesses he has parked the Tardis. Before Peyton can react, he has already returned to grab the half-finished Shepard's pie.
Peyton sighs, turning on the machine and following him into the Tardis.
"Did you make this?" He asks as they arrive on the flight deck.
"Yes, why?" Peyton says, closing the Tardis doors.
"It's good, I'm surprised," the Doctor answers bluntly.
"Hang on, you lived in my spare room for a year. I made you this all the time, same recipe and everything," Peyton folds her arms as she approaches the console.
"Yeah, sorry, I lied, I hated it," the Doctor says in a tone not very indicative of an apology. "But, you know, new mouth! New rules!"
"Charming," Peyton nods as she watches him set the container and fork down on the controls for safekeeping. The Doctor wanders toward a set of stairs leading down below the console and pauses.
YOU ARE READING
The Time Lord's Apprentice
Fanfiction"But, you're impossible!" "Yeah, and the world is ending, I don't think now is the time." Peyton is an orphan, taken from her mother as an infant by the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. She is raised separately from other children because she is spec...
