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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"Mistress?"
I found myself standing...but it wasn't me doing it. Oh, my God! Cassandra had control of my body. She muttered a 'moisturise me' out of my lips. I sounded like her... There were no possible outcomes of this situation that could be good. "How bizarre. Arms... fingers...hair! Let me see! Let me see!" She ran to the mirror in the corner of the room and ran her fingers through my hair. Sorry, my fingers through my hair. God, this was going to get confusing. "Oh, my God. I'm a mess!"
...
Let that sink in.
I mean, she wasn't wrong, but still rude. "Look at me!" Cassandra exclaimed. "Although..." She took off my jacket and black lacy top, leaving me in just a bralette. Seriously? And then she put the jacket back on, slipping the fabric into the pocket - fortunately ignoring my watch. "Ooh...curves. Oh, baby. It's like living inside a bouncy castle."
"Oi!"
That made the once piece of skin flinch. "How did you do that? Oh, nevermind. Just don't make a habit of it."
Chip ignored her talking to herself. "The mistress is beautiful." Thank you.
"Absolument." Then, something caught our eye. The frame where Cassandra's old body used to be was now empty. "Oh, but look..."
Chip spoke sadly, in suprise. "Oh... The brain meat expired... My old mistress is gone."
"But safe and sound in here." Cassandra tapped the side of my head slyly.
"What of Lilly's mind?"
"Oh...tucked away. I can just about access the surface memory." Crap. "She's... Gosh, she's with the Doctor. That man, he's the Doctor. The same Doctor with a new face. That hypocrite." If I could, I'd face palm. "Though, I must get the name of his surgeon." She moved back to the mirror. "I could do with a little work." Oh, no, you don't. "Although... Nice rear bumper." Her hand caressed my behind. This was strange on so many levels. I was watching myself do this to myself.
And then my phone started ringing. Cassandra pulled my phone out of my bag and stared at it. "A primitive communication device." Chip told her helpfully.
"Lilly, where are you?" The Doctor questioned down the phone.
The ex skin covered the mobile with her hand. My hand. "How does she speak?" She whispered to the clone.
"Like me. Irish."
"Uhm... Dia dhuit." Cassandra spoke in probably the worst Irish accent ever. "Top of the mornin' to ya'." Wow. Just...wow.
