6

The door of the viewing chamber closed behind Jenny, if it did close, without a sound. Light. Light rippled over the walls, the floor seemed to be made of light now, undulating as if below water. Jenny stared at the floor for a long moment. Then she squared her shoulders, and raised her eyes.

Where there had been a glass sphere shot through with proton beams, there was now a point of light, cradled in efflorescent arms of brilliance that made all other things dark by comparison. The light seemed to pulse, to breathe. Jenny stepped forward. The light was so perfect. It couldn't be real. And yet it was the most real thing Jenny had ever seen. She stared, enthralled by the light, eyes riveted on the central point.

Was she moving, or was the room? She felt like she was falling, falling into the light. Or was it flowing into her? Her head tingled, then nearly burned, like a fire being kindled, like a flower suddenly opening to the sun. Her blue eyes opened wide as the light glowed in them, seeing it, seeing beyond it, seeing through it.

It was as if she'd lived her entire existence on a single thread, and now the light was carrying her high, high up, and she could see the pattern of the entire tapestry, the complete and beautiful perfection of it. Endless events, every moment and everything in creation going through its existence. And each of them, each atom and microbe and creature and star contributed itself to the pattern from the moment it came into existence. Jenny laughed, barley aware that it was her own voice, laughed in realization of the sheer beauty. She saw the Universe, all of it, all things in all times, all things as they were meant to be. And the Universe saw her; recognized her, and, in some way, she felt it acknowledged her, like that perfect light had reached out and touched her, marked her, knew her. She was a part of the pattern, in every move affecting it, helping it be. Eternity blazed inside her, colors danced behind her eyes, and she was a part of it all. All times, all places, all things.

It was. And so, she was.

It could have been a moment or a year, or a hundred years, when Jenny's hand touched something. Iron, hematite, and brass.

Doorknob.

Her hand turned it almost on reflex. Her eyes took in their last sight of perfection.

Closing the door between herself and the Schism was like cutting a cord. Jenny fell back against the wall, eyes huge, chest heaving as if she'd run fifteen miles at top speed. She stared at the room around her. And now she could see. Overlaid in her vision was the pattern, but now she was up close, looking at all the individual threads. And her hearts nearly broke, because the pattern was wrong here. Not the perfect intricacy she'd just seen, but a tangled skein that had lost its cohesion and beauty.

It's broken. I knew it before. But now I can see it.

"Jenny!"

She looked up, and saw her father. Really saw him, for the first time; saw who and what he was. The patterns woven around him were delicate and complex, twisting, winding, beautiful. He'd woven himself right into Time, and now he glowed in her eyes, a knot that held so many things together. Whatever lines fell near his seemed to pull themselves straight, as if her father kept them in harmony just by being. She was so entranced by the sight that she almost forgot he had spoken. She smiled up at him, meeting his eyes, made so dark by fear.

"It's all right Dad! It's…perfect!"

The Doctor's hands gripped the railing with white knuckles. But he spoke calmly, quietly.

"Come up here, Jenny."

Jenny nodded. It was a strange new thing walking, seeing the effect her part of the pattern-was that a time line? So that was what it looked like- had on every line she came in contact with. But they had a problem here. The pattern was broken here. She didn't have time to be lagging. She jumped the stairs two at a time, reaching her father's side.

For a long moment, the Doctor couldn't help pausing to stare at her, anxious eyes scanning every nuance of her face, every emotion in her deep blue eyes. He brushed fingers lightly across her brow, brushing his thoughts through her mind. She smiled up at him. And she glowed, inside and out, so full of wonder and exhilarated joy. He smiled, then grinned in relief.

"Jenny, you up to giving your old man a hand?"

"What do I do?"

"Follow me, I'll guide you."

Jenny nodded. She followed the images her father let her see, working the controls. He had a countdown going in his head too.

One minute…fifty-five seconds…

She dialed up two controls, and pulled a lever. The lines were changing. Was that because of what she was doing?

It's like he told me. Every action affects Time. Everything we do changes the lines.

Forty seconds…thirty-nine…thirty eight…

Now the broken lines seemed to be roiling together close to the Schism. It made her sick to look at them, so she kept her eyes to her work. But she could see them in her head, as ripped and raw as open wounds.

Fifteen…

Following his lead, she pulled three switches. Then it was as if the air in the room suddenly lost its chest-constricting pressure. The whole space breathed out, the terrible tension gone.

Jenny stood back from the controls. "It's done, isn't it?"

"It's done." her father agreed. He drew a deep breath, sighing out all the fear and tension of the past hours. Then he stepped away from the controls, and enveloped his daughter in a tight hug.

"Do you ever listen to me?" he asked. She smiled against his coat.

"Only when you're making sense."

He drew back, searching her face again, studying it.

"You're all right. You're all there and all straight."

She grinned up at him, her face alight. And deep in her eyes, he thought he could just see a glint of gold.

"I'm fine father. I feel…perfect."

The Doctor squeezed her into another hug. He'd been so afraid, so afraid. But here she was, glowing like a little star in her denims and her Aerosmith t-shirt, already becoming acclimatized to Time, already gaining intricacy in her lines. With a last squeeze he stepped back and looked over the room, one arm around his daughter's shoulders. The Doctor grimaced. The broken timelines, without the Schism pulling at them, hung like snapped puppet strings.

"Bit of a mess it left, didn't it?"

Jenny nodded. "Nasty."

"Mm, that about sums it up." he muttered, eyes roving over the room. He sighed. "Well," the Doctor exclaimed resolutely, "looks like your first lesson on timelines is going to be repair work. Lots to do." He glanced at his daughter, and smiled.

"Let's get at it then."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Three days later, their work was almost done. The Doctor and his daughter had closed every proto-rift they'd been able to track down, and pulled straight the timelines as best as could be done. The Doctor had explained that the area would always be a little weak, but it would heal like wounds scarring over. The work was exhausting, but Jenny's hearts beat a little faster every time she was able to see a problem in Time and fix it. There'd been a lot of talking too. An awful lot. The Doctor had explained everything to the technicians, showing them how to safely produce power without repeating their error. He'd also had Jenny surreptitiously install a few sensors that would alert the TARDIS if anything like this started to happen again. Just in case.

They were just stepping into the TARDIS when Technician Cranz came running up, puffing.

"Doctor, Ms. Good, I was told you were leaving."

"Yep" the Doctor said, "you heard right."

The sandy-haired man nodded. "Well, I just wanted to say, thanks. From all of us. The reports-"

"Ah ah."The Doctor cut in, "Remember what you lads said, no reports about us."

"No, no reports. I was just going to say that the reports have gone out on Doctor Simms and how he saved the facility. He's going to be the Head Technician now. Bourma's stepping down."

"Brilliant."The Doctor said, "Malto bene. And I suppose you'll be doing quite well too, as long as you lot don't figure out some other way to blow yourselves to bits. Try and see that doesn't happen, hey?"

The thin young man nodded, smirking sheepishly. "I'll do that."

He shook hands with the Doctor, and with Jenny, before they stepped into their ship.

"Right, Jenny."The Doctor said, tossing his coat at the hat-rack and bounding up the ramp, "We've got something really fun to go to."

"What?" Jenny asked, hanging up her satchel. Her father shrugged, leaning his long frame against the console.

"Don't know, that's your choice. Old tradition, Initiates get to choose something to celebrate their Viewing if they come through it all right. And not only did you come through it with flying colors, you jumped right into doing temporal repairs afterwards. And to me that says vacation much deserved. So, where and when?"

Jenny walked up the ramp, a smile playing over her lips. For a second, she could only stare at the timelines swirling around the time rotor. Her father cleared his throat, and she shot him a mock glare. "Give me a minute father. All I really want right now is something to eat. I'm starved." She checked a calculation, then straightened. "Well, that's something. Pizza. Let's go for pizza."

The Doctor raised an incredulous brow. "You want to celebrate the biggest event in your life to date with pizza?"

Jenny nodded, grinning. "Yep."

The Doctor sighed dramatically.

"Your wish is my command, I suppose. Best pizza in the Universe, coming up."

He pulled the handbrake, and they shot into the Vortex. Jenny missed several beats because she was too busy watching the weavings of Time, finally seeing how the TARDIS manipulated the time lines, wove them into its workings. But she picked up her pace quickly, adjusting.

"Do you think it'll stay fixed, everything on Sedna?"

"Oh, sure it will."The Doctor said breezily, "Put Time right and tight, job of the Last of the Time Lords."

Jenny put the calculation for the year in, and watched as the lines shifted and changed around the rotor.

"You're not, you know."She said, staring upwards. Her father quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Not?"

"Not the last Time Lord. There's two of us now."

The Doctor smiled, pulling several switches.

"Three, actually."

That made Jenny snap to attention. "Three?!!"

The Doctor glanced up at her, frowning. "Yes three, I told you about…" then his dark eyes grew wide, and he smacked himself across the forehead.

"Oh no I didn't tell you, I never thought, oh I can't believe it, thick, thick, so thick! Jenny, put in coordinates zero-zero-fifty nine seventeen. She may give me my eleventh go round for this, going to be a bit of a shock-"

"Why are we going to Betelgeuse?" Jenny asked. In response, the Doctor gave her one of his huge, wild possibilities grins.

"Because, Jenny, there's somebody on the other side of Betelgeuse that you have got to meet. Let's get going!"

Author's Note: Thanks to Catharicorne and Alcibe for their help. Thanks to Lindenharp for the use of the Kelosite idea. Ciao!