The Last Royal (editing)

*The Girl in the Fireplace*

"Good question," the Doctor mutters, messing with the control panel. "No life readings on board."

"Well, we're in deep space," Rose points out, folding her arms. "They didn't just nip out for a quick fag," she rolls her eyes.

"Nope, checked all the smoking pods," the Doctor shakes his head, making Rose and I snicker quietly. "Can you smell that?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he sniffs the air.

"Yeah, someone's cooking," Rose nods.

"Sunday roast, definitely!" Mouse smiles.

"But... who'd be cooking if there's no life on board?" I frown, chewing on my bottom lip. "Well, I guess it could be a robot or an android or something - we are in the 51st century," I mutter. "Who'd they be cooking for, though? Wouldn't they've stopped without a crew?"

"Good point," the Doctor ruffles my hair as he passes by me, still messing with the controls.

One of the buttons opens up a door from behind us and we turn to see a fireplace. I smile, walking through the door and stepping up to it. "The thing's beautiful," I smile, running my hand along the ornate mantle.

"Well... there's something you don't see in your average spaceship," the Doctor grins, coming up beside me. "18th century! French! ... nice mantle," he pulls out his sonic to scan it. "Not a hologram," his eyes widen slightly, making me raise my eyebrows in surprise. "Not even a reproduction," he bends down to examine it more. "This actually is an 18th-century French fireplace! Double-sided... there's another room through here!"

I kneel down beside the Doctor and I blink in shock. On the other side of the fireplace was a little girl - probably around seven or eight - with long, blonde hair and she was sitting in a white nighty.

Rose moves over to look out of a porthole, "there can't be, that's the outer hull of the ship... look!"

"Hello!" the Doctor beams at the little girl, making Rose and Mouse bend down a bit behind him to look into the fireplace.

"... hello?" she frowns.

"What's your name?"

"Reinette..."

"Reinette, that's a lovely name," the Doctor smiles. "Can you tell us where you are at the moment, Reinette?"

"... in my bedroom," the girl eyes him suspiciously.

"And where is your bedroom? Where do you live, Reinette?"

"Paris, of course!" she smiles.

"Paris, right!" the Doctor exclaims happily, making me roll my eyes with a smile.

"Monsieur... what are you doing in my fireplace?"

"Oh, it's just a routine... fire check," the Doctor waves off, pulling on my hair playfully when I snort loudly. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

"Of course I can!" Reinette announces proudly. "Seven hundred and twenty-seven!"

"Right, lovely," the Doctor nods. "One of my favorites! ... August is a bit rubbish," he frowns. "Stay indoors," he warns.

I roll my eyes, leaning over to his ear, "you're going to make her think you're mad," I whisper, giggling when he swats my arm with narrowed eyes.

"That's all for now," the Doctor smiles at Reinette. "Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire, nice night!" he slaps his thighs, standing up.

"Goodnight, monsieur," Reinette giggles.

Mouse looks up at the Doctor with a frown, "you said this was the 51st century," he accuses.