CHARLOTTE ::: DW¹

xxv. charlotte versus rattigan

While Ross began driving the cab, Charlotte looked out the window to see Wilfred waving them off before Sylvia steered him into the house. Once they get out-of-view, she turns to face the windshield, only to see their view blocked by the gas-fog.

"Careful," she warned Ross, craning her neck for any help. A car, with its lights on, drives parallel to them. "Careful!" She snapped.

"I'm driving fine..."

Scoffing, Charlotte kept her eyes out for oncoming cars or people throughout the ride and still did when Ross turned to the outside the ATMOS factory. Immediately putting the cab in park, the Doctor and Donna jumped out of the car. As they do, Charlotte searched inside of her pockets.

"Ross, look after yourself," the Doctor tells him, "get inside the building."

"Will do."

Charlotte takes out her phone- well, Wilfred's friend's phone. "Don't wait up for me!" She called over at him. "I'll be there in a second." Waving, the Doctor left with Donna down an alleyway.

"I have to go," stated Ross, a hand at the wheel despite the cab being turned off.

Nodding, Charlotte messed with the phone. "I know, I know. Just a second." She scoots to the far right of her seat and raises the phone's camera above the two of them. "Smile," she says to Ross, who does as told before she brought the phone down to look at the picture that'll be printed into her book soon enough.

"What was that for?"

She stuffed the phone back into her pocket. "I-" Charlotte stopped mid-sentence, knowing she was so close to slipping how he'll die after they part ways, how he'll be alone when he's shot and how she wants something to remember him. "I'm a scrapbooker."

He chuckled. "My mum scrapbooks." The second he remembered their situation, Ross fixed his composure. "I have to go, now, ma'am."

Before leaving, she threw him a mock salute; he salutes her, far more professionally than she, but still not as perfect as he would with anyone else as the smile he wore was as against code as his posture. Opening her door, Charlotte stepped out of the cab and into the gas.

Charlotte slammed the door shut, looking around for any sight of the Doctor and Donna, but in the fog found nothing. Keeping her shirt balanced on the arch of her nose, Charlotte squints as she starts to cough.

She needed to get inside now. Charlotte had no clue where the Doctor went off to- the trailer from earlier? She can't be sure, and from where she stood, she has no clue where that is. On the other hand, the TARDIS was nearby for sure, and Donna was definitely there.

Without a second thought, she ran in the TARDIS' direction while coughing from the gas. Turning the corner, her shoulders relaxed when she spotted the blue box exactly where they left it.

Standing in front of it- and dropping the shirt off her nose- Charlotte took the cord of twine hanging around her neck. With the key in hand, she unlocked the door. Coughing, she put the twine back around her neck and stepped inside.

"Close the door!" said Donna, in between her own coughs from gas billowing in.

Charlotte closes the door immediately after stepping fully in. Leaning over a bar, Charlotte wheezes as the gas dissipates. "Sorry, sorry!" She was able to cough out an apology. Donna gave her a wave as if saying, "Whatever" and sat down on the pilot's seat.

As the smoke finally leaves the TARDIS, Charlotte stood awkwardly at the entrance area; she's been with Donna multiple times, yet doesn't know her well, not even given time to speak one-on-one. Girl to girl. Woman to woman. Flesh and bones to flesh and bones.