Chapter Text
“That was one hell of an adventure, team! But, uh…can I…send you back to the TARDIS for the evening? Don’t worry, she’ll look after you as always, and don’t wait up for me. There’s something I need to do before we go. Something alone. I…I need to say goodbye, in the only way she’ll understand. To me, the Corsair died two lifetimes ago, and I…”
“It’s alright, Doc. We know she’s like you. See you later, yeah?”
With a heavy heart, she had sent her companions away. As much as they appeared to understand on the surface; how could they? They had no idea what it was like to spend most of their lives thinking they were the last of their kind left, or have to watch countless other die in a pointless war. Aside from Missy, the Corsair was the only other Time Lord they knew of that still roamed the universe. Chances of meeting anyone else were slim to non-existent. Having heard of their death, almost losing themselves and their TARDIS too, she felt she owed a thank you to the rogue Gallifreyan. Truth be told, she had yet to experience the scandalous pirate in her current regeneration, and was rather curious as to how she presented herself these days.
She returned to the pub where the five of them had first met, no traces of any scraps of a brawl left at the scene. Much to her surprise, as the doors swung open, the Doctor was greeted by the Corsair casually leaning against the bar. The room was devoid of any patrons, not even a barkeep. A tall glass of green liquid was sat on the bar, next to her arm, and the Corsair merely smiled as she strode into the room with a quizzical expression. Considering that the day had started out with someone being thrown out of the very same pub, a massive brawl that took up the whole room in full swing, seeing it empty made no sense to her at all.
“Bit quiet, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps. Although, you of all people should know that my reputation proceeds me. Especially after the…fun, of the day, hmm? Besides, there are plenty more pubs around this backwater city with just enough of an allure to me as this. Fancy a drink? On the house.”
It wasn’t for the Corsair to know, but the Doctor could not stop the visible flinch of pain crossing her face. Given the circumstances, she had been struggling a lot with that one word being mentioned while relating to the other Time Lord. Keeping track of the timeline was considerably more draining on her psyche than she had realised. Regaining her composure, the Doctor noticed that same devilish smile on the pirate’s face, feeling one tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Depends, did you pay for that?”
She gestured towards the still mysterious glass of green liquid, eying it curiously, delighting in the low laugh of the Corsair.
“So morally conscious. Oh, I am offended at the mere thought of not paying for such a thing. What do you take me for, some lowly rapscallion? Perish the thought, Doctor!”
With a nod of her head, the Corsair motioned to a small velvet bag that rested on the shelf at the back of the bar, holding a shining golden stamp of an Ouroboros on the front.
Only the Corsair could be so grandiose and considerate at the same time, with or without her passing fancies and interesting obligations to other life in the universe, she still held some level of appreciation for systems. Even if just to test their limits.
“Consider that I have acquired all the alcohol this one particular pub owns, and have made it just so that it actually has some modicum of an effect on me. And yourself, of course, if you wish to test what is on offer.”
Slender fingers wrapped around the tall glass, slowly lifting it up towards the Corsair’s lips before she took a drink. She did not falter, even for a second, which lulled the Doctor into a false sense of security as she held out a hand towards the glass. Soon enough it was in her grasp, and as it came to her own face, the Doctor could smell the varying different alcohols that had been mixed together to create quite the potent concoction. She could smell the obvious culprit of ginger, some kind of wine, Maklovian grass liquor, and a host of other unrecognisable liquids. Although, considering the hit of possible regret, she had to admit that the sweet and minty undertones were quite nice and easier on her nose.
“Guess it’s better not to ask exactly what you’ve mixed into this…”
The Corsair offered up another sly smile before gently encouraging a sip by tipping the bottom of the glass towards her lips. As the burning liquid slid down her throat, the Doctor tried desperately not to cough it back up, although ended up colouring her cheeks a healthy pink as tears stung the corners of her eyes. She heard a laugh in response, felt the glass being taken away from her, and watched as the roguish pirate merely downed the remaining contents without so much as a twitch or a splutter.
“Since when were you such a light-weight? Figures as much, I don’t think I’ve heard of you being a woman until I saw you. Maybe we need to start you off small, huh?”
“Oi! I’m not a lightweight!”
Rolling her eyes, the Corsair left the glass on the bar before pushing herself back to standing. In one swift motion, she vaulted the bar itself, turning to peruse the alcohol she had acquired from the establishment. All too intrigued, the Doctor moved to rest her arms against the dark wood, head tilted slightly as she watched the pirate inspect several bottles before turning around with three in her arms. The contents of each one was carefully poured and measured into the once full glass, soon colouring an odd shade of red. Several small slices of ginger were placed on the top, before being muddled in with a long spoon. As metal rang out against the glass, the strange beverage was gently nudged back in the direction of the Doctor.
“Care to place a bet on that, Doctor? Because I would wager that you are, indeed, a lightweight. My prize for winning would simply be the satisfaction of seeing you cut loose. If you prove me wrong…well, let’s see if we even get that far.”
Another thing about the Corsair, that many seemed to forget, was that she was quite sneaky with her bets. The Doctor gave her a once over, but saw no hint of malice. Only amusement. It was fair, really, to indulge her. This once. Seeing as it was their last time together. Taking hold of the glass and keeping a hard stare, the Doctor smiled as she raised the glass to her lips and felt the first drops burn a warning into her skin.
“Oh, you’re on.”
Just like that, the drink was gone. Along with all of her inhibitions.
She had no idea how many drinks she had taken. She had no idea where in town they were. She had no idea what time it was, or if time was even a thing that existed at all anymore. All the Doctor knew was that she felt warm and that her lungs ached from laughter. Her coat lay strewn across the back of several chairs, white sleeves pushed up past her elbows in a vague attempt to stifle the boiling of her blood. At some point between the bar-hopping her hair had fallen into disarray, her suspenders had dropped to rest against her hips, and both shirts were half out of her trousers. The Corsair herself had even undone the strings around her sleeves, pulled the shirt collar as far away from her skin as possible, and discarded her waistcoat somewhere atop the dusty blue coat. Blush covered both their cheeks, atop their chests, and spanned to their ears.
Neither of them paid attention to the fourth fight instigated of the night, two of which had been from the residence trying to hit on one of them. While the Corsair had lapped up the attention for a moment before a stray hand made its way towards her backside, the Doctor was much less receptive and her prospective suitor was dealt with with a swift right hook from her current companion. While at first she had been absolutely against the action, the resulting fist fight had turned out to be quite fun to watch. A table had been broken, several bottles smashes, and the two of them had snuck out of the back door of the pub trying to hide their amusement.
The current one; the Doctor had somehow started herself and earned another drink to her name as a result. She thought she had asked for a specific kind of drink that the Corsair had requested, but in her slurred haste she had accidentally called the barkeep a backstabbing whore. Not her finest moment. If it wasn’t for the last remaining sense sticking around before the latest drink, she would have had a chair to the face more than likely. Again, she had been saved by the miraculous quick thinking of the pirate. The Doctor had swore she received a wink in response to her actions, but quickly forgot as a new drink was handed to her and she was reminded of their bet.
Both of them now lounged on a long bench, the Doctor slinking considerably lower than the Corsair, her arm draped across the back of the dark wood as the other Time Lord rested hers against her shoulder. A half-drunk drink sat by her side, precariously close to the edge, but it was almost a certainty that neither would notice if it were to topple and shatter. They were too far gone, lost in their own world, tuning out the yells of the fight and the distant hum of fiddles and flutes.
“D’y’ see th’ look on ‘is face?! S’not my fault that those words sound’d s’milar!”
Her broad and slurred Northern accent only caused the Corsair to laugh more, one hand reaching around to clutch at her side to stop the pain shooting through her chest.
“They sound nothin’ alike! Y’may’s’well been talkin’ Judoonese!”
Hand aimlessly patted around the bench until the Doctor took hold of her glass, taking down the last drops of alcohol before sliding it as far away as her limited coordination could manage. The Corsair let out a long sigh, several strands of curled hair falling in front of her eyes as she dipped her head. It was quite astonishing, really, that the Doctor had failed to notice how beautiful the rogue Time Lord was. Of course, they had been a terribly handsome man on several occasions, she would freely admit that. But in their current garb and with the same alluring personality, echoes of a former voice whispering ‘bad girl’ really rang true. What she wouldn’t give to keep the Corsair around for as long as possible, paradoxes and Time Lord responsibilities be damned. She would show her all the corners of the universe she was yet to explore, take her to the best bars she knew of, enjoy every moment. Maybe even invite the fam along for the ride if they wanted. But it was never to be.
Her musing was broken by the shattering sound of the wooden shutter doors crashing open, several potential law enforcement-types barging in to break up the newest fight of the evening. It was quite a sight to behold, as the shouting and aggression in the room heightened to new levels. The tables quickly turned as one of the patrons pointed towards the Doctor, specifically at her, fear quickly rising in her veins. The Corsair quickly rose up from the bench, grabbing hold of her hand with a flash of a toothy grin and merriment in her eyes.
“Run!”
So they ran, the Doctor hastily grabbing their coat and the waistcoat before being dragged through a crowd of angry locals. She could hear the low brassy rumble of the Corsair’s laughter in her ears, mixing with the rapid beating of her hearts as she too broke down to unashamed laughter. They ran through the streets, and the Doctor swore they were in the clear. However, the joyous carelessness quickly ended as something caught hold of her arm, ripping the clothing from her grasp and pulling her away from the Corsair. Stumbling forward, the Doctor lifted her half-lidded eyes up to see a rather imposing figure glaring down at her. She was unsure as to whether or not it was one of the people from the bar brawl, or some kind of law enforcement. Either way, they looked increasingly displeased. Three black eyes stared at her, and she distinctly heard the cracking of knuckles.
“You and your little friend here have been causing quite a bit of trouble for us, haven’t you? Considerin’ everything that’s happened, kind of expected better of you.”
The words were not directed at her, but to the Corsair. Turning her head, the Doctor watched as the joyous expression quickly turned into something much more sinister. Heeled boots carried the rogue Time Lord closer to the accuser, almost squashing the Doctor in between the pair of them until she was pulled to stand behind the suddenly-intimidating Corsair. Hands scrambled to pick her coat and the waistcoat out of the mud, clutching them both to her chest protectively. In the dim street light, with a hard shadow obscuring them, the Doctor feared the worst. Her body did not respond to the panic of the situation and merely shut down as she watched the pirate completely square up to the bulky aggressor.
“S’fair assumption t’make. Y’wrong though. S’all fun and games here, friend.”
Steel toned bravado was doing little to work against the alien on the receiving end of the comment. They growled loudly, snarled, raising a fist to swing. The Doctor almost moved to intercept…but the moment passed too quickly to react to. Mouth gaping open, it transpired that the Corsair was twisting the formerly raised arm behind the other person’s back, dropping them to the ground in the process. She hung over their ears, voice barely audible, a trickle of blood dripping down her cheek and leaving a small spot in the dirt near their face.
“I don’t appreciate me or my consort being threatened.”
As she left them in the dirt, letting their arm to drop against their back, one boot came against his side hard enough for a strangled croak of a scream to echo through the empty streets. Wiping dirtied hands against her shirt, the Corsair turned on her heels and smiled as if nothing had happened. The Doctor, however, was not fooled.
“You’re bleeding!”
Raising an eyebrow as the Doctor hurried over, the Corsair lifted her hand to her cheek and swiped down. Sure enough, orange-red blood clung to her skin, leaving a smear against both areas. Shrugging her shoulders, she shifted some hair behind her ear.
“S’not that bad. Been hit harder b’Daleks. C’mon, I wanna show y’somethin’.”
Cool fingers interlocked with her own again as the Corsair guided her way from the scene of her unusually collected takedown. They soon found themselves stumbling through the twisted town streets, recalling tales of their past endeavours, the Doctor minding her tongue just enough not to talk about the ones they shared together or future events. The Corsair had so many tales to tell, spanning centuries and eons, all from different corners of the universe and most of them starting with being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Truth be told, that was one of the reasons she loved them so.
As the houses thinned, she caught sight of the improbably large TARDIS floating at the harbour. Though the inside was as large as the relative dimensions of the outside, the ship itself was merely an oversized projection. With a few trips and slips through sodden ground and deep puddles, they soon made it to the plank leading towards the deck. The sky was barely any darker from when the Doctor swore she had left her companions, chalking it down to time seeming longer whilst incredibly drunk. It was blind luck that got them to the top unscathed, although both she and the Corsair ended up dropping down to the deck in another fit of laughter over the altercation in the streets.
“Y’should get th’ cut sorted. Won’t heal while wasted.”
“Ah, s’just the mark ‘f a good night! Lit’l thing won’t stop me!”
Shaking her head and almost falling down again as soon as she moved, the Doctor finally got in her feet and leant against the closest railing. Her chest hurt, her body was burning up, but it was so very exhilarating. The Corsair stood up more gracefully, taking the waistcoat away from the Doctor and sliding her arms back into it. She turned towards the bow of the ship, gesturing towards it.
“Y’wanna see the sunset?”