In which, a 32 year old woman from Torchwood stumbles across a time traveling alien with a blue box, and decides that nothing else matters more than the thrill of near death.
Or
Lilly Tyler is used to aliens, and death, and eve...
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"Rose better not come looking for us." I sighed deeply, sinking back into the warm bubbles.
My boyfriend, opposite me and also enjoying the comfort of our bath - the first one together in an awfully long time - smiled mischievously. "She can come looking, but she won't find us. I've put your room in a sort of timed lock. Your door is just a wall to her, for as long as I want. We want." He corrected himself with a slight cough.
I reached over the edge of the bath to retrieve my wine glass but stopped when my finger brushed past something flimsy. "Wh-" When we'd gotten into the bath, there was certainly nothing there. The TARDIS was messing with us.
"What is it?"
"My birthday card from Ella..." Something was off. An envelope with 'Lilly' printed across it in block capitals, with brackets underneath telling me not to open until my 33rd birthday. Unable to help myself, I dug a nail under the seal and tore it open, throwing the scrap paper at my boyfriend in jest.
It looked like a normal piece of cardboard until I opened it. It looked like a homemade birthday card from a loving daughter. Boy, was I wrong.
Upon opening it, a face popped out. It was a teenage boy, trapped in a bluish hologram using some sort of handheld camera. Of course, I rushed to cover myself with bubbles in a brief moment of panic that this was a video call. Yet, the boy didn't move for a moment.
It left an opportunity for us to inspect his background (and him). It seemed as though he was stood within some future version of the TARDIS, with a grey and silver theme as opposed to our current steampunk aesthetic. Galifreyan symbols coated a pillar in the background and, noticing this, the Doctor whispered something in a language I couldn't comprehend.
"It's recording." An Irish accent, familiar yet uncomfortably different, told the boy. It had to be me.
"Hi guys...mum and dad. Mum, future mum said you guys are worried about me right now." His tone seemed quite dull, as though he'd been forced into making the video. It didn't sound awfully unusual to imagine. "Although having a bath doesn't give 'scared for my son's life' vibes to me."
The camera shook and cut off for a second. When the boy returned he was wearing a different outfit (dressed in a blue shirt, as opposed to the red one from before). Clearly more than one take, then.
"I'm coming to you from the TARDIS about... actually I don't know how far into your future. I'm 52 years old tomorrow...and I'm happy. I think that's all you want to know. Life started off rough, sure, but I'm happy now and that's what matters. I had a nice enough childhood. And now you can give me a name. So, happy belated birthday mum. Love you both. Bye." The boy waved, his enthusiasm slightly raised in those last few moments. Possibly because his duties were finally over. What is with my children and refusing to give a proper goodbye? I blame the Doctor.
