You Must Give In Order To Receive
By Maggie the Kitten

photo by Tahiti

Enroute to Christmas Eve dinner at Jackie's house, Rose and the Doctor encounter a woman on London Bridge who changes their lives forever.

Chapter One
Lost on London Bridge

“You promised, Doctor,” Rose whined as she checked the Tardis’s chronometer. “You told Mum we’d be there promptly at 6 for Christmas Eve Dinner.”

The Time Lord’s travelling companion, a beautiful young woman with shoulder length blonde hair and big brown eyes was casually dressed in blue jean overalls, a Union Jack t-shirt and trainers. In celebration of the season she’d added a red and white stocking cap.

As beautiful as the rose she’d been named after, she was also brave, passionate, intelligent and “street savvy,” having been plucked off the streets of 21st century London by the Doctor nearly two years earlier.

“At this rate we won’t get there until Boxing Day 2009,” Rose teased. playing with the white fluffy ball on the end of her cap. “It’s beyond me sometimes how a Time Lord can never manage to be on time.”

The Doctor was on his knees, buried waist deep into an access hatch below the Tardis’s control panel. “Rose I’ve got more important things here to worry about then your mum’s goose drying out or missing the Christmas pudding”.

The current regeneration of the last of the Time Lords pulled out from the access hatch and got to his feet, Frustration was etched on his face and heavy in his voice. “I just don’t understand it. Everything is in perfect working order, and yet nothing works.”

The Doctor shook his head and ran his fingers through his short-cropped brown hair. Tall, thin and smartly dressed in a dark-brown pinstripe suit, his white scruffy trainers seemed a bit out of dress with the rest of his attire, yet fittingly appropriate for the rogue Time Lord. Despite looking very much as if he was in his late 20’s or early thirties, the Doctor was over 900 years old and in his tenth regeneration.

If there was any hint of his true age, it would be found in his eyes Deep dark brown, they were truly the windows to his ancient soul. Within them was the wisdom and experience from his travels and his many years of existence. Those eyes when happy, smiled with pure passion and an intoxication that was energy and exuberance. When angered they showed his strength, his conviction, and his steadfast belief in what was good and right. Currently they were filled with concern and frustration.

The Doctor pushed the main control switch back and forth several times, but the Tardis never gave forth its traditional “whirr” signalling the circuits were engaged. “This just can’t be. We should be on our way.”

Rose slipped up beside the Doctor and gave her pixie smile. “Oh well … guess you’ll have to get on your mobile and call Traveller’s Assistance. You think we can get a tow on Christmas Eve?”

The Doctor greeted Rose’s holiday humour with a stern glance that let her know immediately this was no laughing matter. “Rose you don’t understand. There is nothing wrong with the circuitry. The Tardis HAS to work. This defies the universal law of time and well … that’s technically impossible.”

“Technically?” Rose arched an eyebrow.

The Doctor produced his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and began calibrating it. “Yes, technically it’s impossible, but, of course, there are two rather improbable scenarios under which a perfectly working Tardis would not work.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.” With a shudder, Rose snuggled in close to the Doctor.

“And well you should be. The first is total annihilation of the space and time continuum, meaning this universe has been destroyed and all its physical laws of existence are no longer applicable. Or in other words, Kabloom!”

“Doctor … I don’t much fancy Kabloom. I think I’ll pull for the other one.”

“Yes, so do I, but it could be nearly as bad. Aside from universal destruction, the only other powers capable of suspending us here would be the Council of Gallafrey. They were a bit unhappy with me during a previous regeneration. Broke a few rules you know, and well, they sort of grounded me for awhile as a result.”

“Hard to imagine a 900 year old getting grounded,” Rose giggled.

The Doctor’s next words quickly sobered his companion, “Unfortunately the Council and all the rest of my race are long gone, so that leaves only two other entities capable of this power over the laws of time and space.”

“I hope we’re friends with at least one of them,” Rose added with a nervous smile.

The Doctor finished scanning the control room with his screwdriver and checked the readings. “We are … and that one would be the White Guardian. He is an anthropomorphic personification of order. The other would be the Black Guardian who represents evil, chaos and entropy.”

“Sort of sounds like the ultimate good guy in the white hat versus the ultimate bad guy in the black one,” Rose simplified.

“Exactly,” The Doctor confirmed as the readings on his screwdriver offered no useful information in solving the mystery.

“So how do we find out which one it is?”

The Doctor blew out a breath and leaned against the consol. “We wait. There is little else we can do. If it’s the White Guardian holding us here, then he’ll appear shortly and provide some explanation or he’ll simply release us when the time is right.”

Rose just had to ask, “And if it’s the Black Guardian?”

The Doctor walked over to the stand. Reaching into his overcoat pocket he Produced a pair of red apples, tossing one to Rose. “Then we could be in for a very long wait.”

No sooner had he taken a bite of the juicy red fruit, than the Tardis engine engaged and the blue police box was once again travelling time and space .

Rose, startled by the sudden jolt, grabbed hold of the Doctor’s arm. “We’re on our way. That’s a good sign. Right Doctor?”

The Doctor looked down at the control mechanism. “I certainly hope so, but I suppose will find out soon enough.”

“Are we still heading to my Mum’s?”

The Doctor flipped several switches and then frowned. “I can’t say. It appears the original coordinates are still in order, but I’m not sure if that is where we are heading.”

The Doctor went to the other side of the control panel and checked a few gauges. “Yes, just as I thought. We’re operational, but we’re not in control. I can’t shut the Tardis down or adjust our flight. We could arrive at your Mum’s doorstep in time for tea, or on the far side of the universe a million years into the future.”

The Doctor took another bite of his apple. “One thing for certain, wherever we end up it is where we are supposed to be.”

Rose swallowed her bite of apple, “And then what do we do once we get there?”

“That, my dear Rose,” the Doctor said with a sparkle in his eye, “is when we find out why we have been sent there.”

Rose nodded. She understood life with the Doctor was never on a schedule. Anything could happen at any time, and usually did. She could only hope her mum would be as understanding should they be a no show this holiday.

Rose had barely finished her apple when the hum of the Tardis engine ceased, signalling they had reached their destination. Rose, a seasoned traveller by now, knew that the length of travel time would offer no clue as to either the true distance travelled or the time period they were now in.

The Doctor was spot on when he said they could end up anywhere and at any point on the time line. Rose knew that truth first hand from her travels over the last two years. It had been an incredible adventure. She had been to worlds she’d never dreamed existed, and met beings with incredible powers. She’d been to the end of time, and to Queen Victoria’s England. She’d been thrilled and frightened, deeply touched, humbled and educated and more than once, nearly killed.

Rose watched the Doctor as he checked the controls. Of everything the young woman had experienced, the Doctor himself was the greatest adventure of all. She had watched with amazement as he regenerated into the current physical form before her. His intelligence and wisdom went hand in hand with his style, his flair, and at times, his arrogance. He was brave, sometimes to the point of foolishness. He was honest, sometimes almost brutally so, and yet gentle and oh so kind when a soft touch was needed. He was over 900 years old, yet his eyes twinkled like a young child, greeting each new day like an adventure. And passion, oh yes, if he had anything it was passion: passion in everything he believed in, fought for, and would be willing to die for. When he held Rose’s hand she could feel that passion, that energy, that love of life.

The Doctor grabbed his overcoat from the rack and tossed Rose hers. As he took her hand and smiled at her, he took her heart as well, and she knew she would follow him anywhere.

It was a good thing they’d both grabbed warm attire, as they were met by the biting winds of a cold winter’s night. The Doctor’s trainers crunched on the frost covered brick beneath them.

Rose poked her nose out and then stepped back as she shivered and pulled her parka up close, “Brrr … Doctor, why is it we never end up in Hawaii?”

The Doctor didn’t answer, for he was too busy eyeing the surroundings. Rose finally stepped out to join him and did the same. They found themselves on the centre of a deserted bridge overlooking a large river. Old style lampposts lined both sides of the bridge. Horse and carriage tracks in the light dusting hadn’t been completely swept away by the winds. The stars above were shining brightly on the cold clear night, and Rose easily recognized them as part of the Milky Way. It certainly appeared that they’d landed on Earth, although the signs seem to point to a time period at least a hundred years in her past.

Gazing over the river toward the large city spreading out on the land beyond, Rose knew where she was even before the Doctor announced it.

Standing centre of the bridge, the Doctor spread out his arms, “Southwark Cathedral to the south, Monument to the Great Fire and the city of London to the north, unmistakably London Bridge.”

The Doctor smiled at his lovely companion, “We might just save your Mum’s Christmas goose yet, Rose, although,” the Doctor glanced at the gas lamps and brushed his shoe over the carriage tracks, “I think we might be just a bit early for dinner. Say about a hundred or so years?”

Rose rolled her eyes as she took her place at the Doctor’s side. “Doctor, I know it’s a cold night and all, but don’t you think it’s a bit odd for the bridge to be so deserted?”

The Doctor looked up and down the bridge, “Well done, Rose. It does seem a bit odd. Could be something going on, a celebration, a major event or such?”

Rose snuggled a little closer to the Doctor, “Or a major disaster?”

“Well then,” the Doctor said very matter of fact, “shall we find out which one it is?”

Rose’s smile told the Doctor she was ready to follow his lead. The only question that remained was which way to go. “Fancy a trip to the Cathedral, or shall we head into the city?”

Rose looked first north, then back south, “I’m not feeling particularly religious this evening. Let’s say we head into the city and explore the night life.”

The Doctor directed his companion northward. “To the city it is!”

They had travelled no more than a few feet when Rose said dryly, “Maybe I should’ve opted for the Cathedral after all. Considering the time period, we’ll probably end up in White Chapel with Jack the Ripper.”

The Doctor stopped, “Want to turn back then?”

“No,” Rose smiled, “After facing Cybermen, Daleks and Robot Santa Clauses, what’s one crazy bloke and blade eh?”

The Doctor laughed as he pulled his lovely companion along, “Now that’s my Rose!”

The pair looked out over the Thames at the lights in the distance. “Doctor I just thought of something? If we don’t know why we are here, or where we are supposed to be going, how do we know we’re going the right way? What if we should have gone south?”

“And what if we should have stayed centre of the bridge?” the Doctor added yet another alternative.

“Exactly! What if I’ve got us going the wrong way?”

The Doctor sighed and looked up at the stars before returning his gaze to her, “We’re going the right way, Rose. I can’t exactly explain it, but you have to believe me. If we were supposed to go south, then we’d be going that way.”

He could see the confusion in his companion’s beautiful brown eyes. “I can feel him … the White Guardian. I know he’s nearby. You may think it was just chance that you chose to go to the city, but it wasn’t. He’s working through you, Rose. It’s why were both trapped in the Tardis. Whatever it is that awaits us requires both of us to deal with it. Of that … I am absolutely sure.”

“Well then,” Rose added with a brave smile, “let’s go face it. I don’t want to keep this White Guardian of yours waiting.”

“Good girl!”

The pair started off once again but it was slow going, as the swirling winds off the Thames, combined with snow flurries, made the trek treacherous, and the visibility low. Had it not been for the glow of the gas lamps, Rose might never have realized they were not alone on the bridge.

“Doctor … look!”

Turning in the direction Rose pointed, the doctor saw what had got her attention and caused the sound of panic in her voice. A tall thin figure with one arm around a lamppost stood precariously on the edge of the frozen bridge rail. While the falling snow and darkness made it barely possible to see this person as more than a silhouette, two things seemed apparently clear. As the strong winds whipped the stranger’s long hair and skirt, the person in peril was a woman.

Secondly and more importantly, those strong winds combined with the icy railing meant this bird was on the most precarious of perches. At any moment she could fall to her death in the icy waters of the Thames. As the Doctor and Rose hurried to reach her, they silently wondered if the winds would sweep her to her death or would she jump first.

“Hey! Stop! Don’t jump! Please don’t jump!” Rose called out as she closed the distance between her and the stranger.

Rose’s voice startled the woman, causing her to slip. Had she not had a good hold on the lamppost she surely would have tumbled into the drink.

Scrambling back up on her perch, she turned her face away from Rose. “Please just go away and leave me alone”.

Two things Rose noticed immediately, the accent was clearly British, and a bit on the posh side, which was of no particular surprise, but what was surprising was the deep, husky tone of her voice. Attributing it to the woman’s obviously distraught emotional condition and the fact one had to nearly shout to be heard through the wind, Rose paid little attention to the inconsistency.

The Doctor arrived just behind Rose, “Yes, please don’t jump. At least not yet. I’ve got a few questions I’m hoping you can answer. It won’t take but a moment, I promise.”

“Questions?,” both the woman and Rose said in shock as they turned to face the Doctor.

“Right, just a few quick questions and we’ll be on our way, and then,” the Doctor looked over the edge of the railing to the black waters below; “you can be on your way if you wish.”

Rose elbowed the Doctor, unable to believe the callousness in his words. “Doctor how can you …”

“Shhh … Rose,” the Doctor quickly quieted her, giving her a wink to let her know the game was afoot.

The woman stared at the two oddly dressed strangers, wondering who they were and what questions she could possibly answer for them, “Questions? I … I … don’t know. I’m not exactly thinking very clearly at the moment.”

“Yes, yes, I can see that,” the Doctor nodded in agreement as he moved a step closer. “But I assure you they are very easy questions, and would be quite helpful to us.”

The woman brushed frozen tears from her cheek with her free hand. “Very well then, what do you wish to know?”

“The time my dear? I don’t suppose you’d have the time.” The Doctor patted the pockets of his coat. “Seems I’ve left my watch somewhere.”

“You … you want the time?” she said in disbelief.

“Doesn’t have to be exact you know, just round about if you can.”

Rose was a silent spectator to this comedy drama. At the moment there was little else she could do but trust that the Doctor knew what he was doing. After two years of travels, he’d proved time and again he was worthy of that trust.

She coughed and clutched the post a bit tighter, as the cold was taking the feeling from her thinly gloved fingers. “I umm … would say it’s about half eight.”

“Splendid,” the Doctor said with a smile and a step closer. “And the date and year as well if you would be so kind?”

The woman’s eyes went wide in disbelief, “Why, it’s the 24th of December, Christmas Eve, and the year is 1898.”

“Awww … Christmas Eve, lovely. And that explains why the bridge is deserted. Nearly everyone’s home for the holiday. You picked an excellent time to jump undisturbed my dear, and with these temps, even if you survive the fall, the hypothermia should do you in straight away. Not the worst way to go I’d say.”

The would-be jumper looked over the edge and swallowed hard.

“Oh, before were off, one last question if I may?”

The woman nodded silently.

“Victoria is still the queen isn’t she?”

“Well of course she is.”

The Doctor smiled and then turned to Rose, “What say we go crash a Christmas Eve party at Buckingham? Considering our last trip here, I doubt if the good queen has us on the invite list, but I’m sure she’ll be glad to see us.”

He then turned back to stranger and bowed, “Thank you my lady. You have been ever so kind. We shan’t trouble or delay your departure any further.”

The Doctor turned and offered his arm to his slightly shocked travelling companion. “Come along Rose. Let us leave this woman to die in peace.”

Rose looked back at the woman, smiling as she wiggled fingers in the air to say goodbye. The smile faded fast though as she turned round and gave the Doctor a confused look.

“We’re not just going to really go off and leave her to jump are we Doctor?”

“Give her a moment,” the Doctor said with confidence.

Seconds later, Rose’s faith in the wise Time Lord was restored.

“Excuse me?” shouted the woman through the howling wind.

The Doctor winked at Rose as the pair turned round and headed back toward her.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but your clothes,” she pointed at the oddly dressed for the England of 1898, Rose, “well you must admit they are quite queer and … and you asked me not only the day but the year?”

She shook her head at the strange pair, “Are you by chance French? They do tend to be a bit eccentric in both clothes and custom.”

“Oh no, were not French,” Rose answered as she stepped a bit closer. “I’m a south London girl myself ,and he’s ummm … well, ummm … definitely not French.”

The exasperated woman was barely clinging to the lamppost and to life. She was weary of the cold and of answers that only gave her more questions. “Just who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Forgive me my lady, our manners have been amiss.” The Doctor stepped within a few feet of the post. “This is my travelling companion Miss Rose Tyler.”

Rose smiled and offered a half-hearted curtsey.

“And I am the Doctor. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance my lady, and may I ask your name?”

The Doctor reached toward the woman, hoping to snare her hand, but she pulled back immediately at the mention of his name, nearly losing her footing once again.

“The Doctor is it?” she said with venom in her voice. “Then you already know my name sir, and you can stop humouring me with all this ladyship talk. I don’t need anymore of the games or the tests or the diagnoses or your noxious potions. I’d sooner die than go back.”

“Doctor, what is she talking about?”

The Doctor waved Rose off as he focused all his attentions on calming the distraught woman. “Listen to me, please. I … we don’t know who you are but we’d love the opportunity to find out. If you’ll just take my hand and step down I’m sure we can sort this whole thing out.”

“Oh no,” she stepped until only the toes of her boots held the railing’s edge. “I know your game sir. Promise me anything to avoid the family scandal of a suicide. Well … you can tell my Mum not to worry; I’ve left all my papers at home. When and if they ever find my body, they’ll think me just some crazy bugger in a fancy woman’s dress. They’ll be no shame on the Kensington name.”

“Listen,” Rose cut in. “Please listen to the Doctor. He only wants to help. No one’s going to hurt you, I promise.”

The woman shook her head, “That’s what all the doctors say and then … then … they cart you off to that place.”

Her body shook, in part from the cold and in part from recent memories. “I’m not crazy you hear and I won’t go back there again. I had to lie to get out the last time, but I won’t lie again. I don’t care what you doctors say, or what the church says or what my body’s reflection in the mirror says. I know the truth. I’m not a man. And if only in my soul, I’m … I’m a woman, and if I can’t bloody well live as one, then I’m going to die as one.”

Rose stood, silent and dumbfounded at the ‘man’s’ confession. The Doctor, unflappable as always, wasted not a moment with a life in the balance. His voice was strong, yet calm and reassuring. “What is your name?”

“You already know,” the figure said with a heavy sigh.

“Humour me, then.”

Defeated, the jumper’s voice was much more masculine in tone. “Edward … Edward O’Malley Kensington.”

The Doctor’s eyes burned into those of the lost soul. “No … I want to know your name, my lady.”

A bit of light and life showed in his blue eyes as the distraught individual understood the Doctor’s request. The posture straightened and the voice softened again. “Margaret … but my few friends, those who in secret accept me for who I am, call me Maggie, Maggie O’Malley with no bloody Kensington anywhere.”

The Doctor flashed that sparkling smile of his, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Margaret, or if I may be so bold to take liberties: Maggie.”

“Nice to meet you, Maggie,” Rose chimed in, forcing an uncomfortable smile.

“Maggie,” the Doctor started again, “I’ve never met your Mum or the doctors you speak of, but sadly in my travels, I’ve encountered many other close-minded individuals like them. I assure you that you are correct when you say you’re neither crazy, nor do you belong in an asylum. Most of all, I have absolutely no doubt that you are a woman.”

For the first time in a long time, Maggie’s eyes sparkled at the Doctor’s words of compassion and understanding.

“What you have suffered, no being should suffer. I’m not sure if I can help you, but …” the Doctor extended his hand to within inches of her. “if you’ll give us a chance, and in doing so, yourself a chance, we’d like the opportunity to try.”

Maggie reached a trembling hand ever so close to the Doctors, “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

“You don’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Maggie looked into the eyes of the Doctor and then at Rose. If they were lying to her, she might find herself so deep in the asylum that she would never again see the light of day, but if this strange man and his oddly dressed companion could possibly help, she had to take that chance. It was the only one she’d ever truly been given.

When she placed her hand in the Doctor’s, he took it firmly and helped her down. Now on the ground, her true height was evident, as she stood several inches taller than the Doctor. Rose looked up at her. Now aware of her born gender, she looked for telltale signs of it. Layers of lace around the neck could not completely obscure the Adams apple. Beneath the lamp light, shadows of a beard peeked out from under heavy make up. Even though they were gloved and booted, it was obvious the hands and feet were too big. Maggie’s body was quite shapely, but Rose knew that beneath all those layers of clothing, custom padding was giving the faux woman her hourglass figure.

Maggie shivered from the long term exposure to the cold as well as her brush with death. It did not go unnoticed by the Doctor.

“I think what we need is a nice hot cuppa. Don’t you Rose?”

Rose managed to tear herself away from mentally disrobing Maggie. “What? Oh, yes, Doctor nothing like a nice hot cuppa on a cold night.”

“Well then, what do you say Maggie my dear? Fancy a cuppa?”

Maggie, painfully aware of how she towered over Rose, and slightly edged the Doctor, dropped her head and slumped forward. “I guess so … but there aren’t many pubs or houses open on Christmas Eve, and of those that would be, I’m afraid none of them would be safe for either of you to be seen with me.”

The Doctor took a lady with each arm. “Well I happen to know a place that’s always open, and has the best cup of tea anywhere”.

Both women looked at him curiously, “The Tardis!” He gave Rose a wink.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been there,” Maggie realized she somehow felt warmer, just being on the Doctor’s arm.

Rose laughed, “Oh trust me, if you’d been there before, you’d definitely know it.”

“Is it far? Do we need to hire a carriage?”

The Doctor continued moving briskly against the blowing snow, with his ladies struggling to keep step. “It’s not far, just to the centre of the bridge. And I have no need of a carriage. Besides having the best cup of tea you’ve ever tasted, the Tardis is also my personal carriage.”

Maggie stopped in her tracks, halting their progress. “A tea house on wheels you say? This I must see to believe.”

Rose rolled her eyes, “Oh yes, and once you see it, you still won’t believe it.”

Maggie, now wondering if her new friends were madder than she was, asked no more questions or offered any more resistance. She would just have to trust this strange Doctor and his Rose.

A few minutes later, and none too soon in the biting cold, the trio came within sight of the Doctor’s blue police box.

“Here we are, ladies. Home again, home again, jiggety jig.”

Maggie stopped as they came within a few feet of the small structure. “This? This … this box … this is your tea house? It’s not big enough for the two of you, let alone the three of us.”

Maggie let go of the Doctor’s arm and made a quick lap around the Tardis. Rose watched with amusement, and the Doctor paid little attention as he’d been through this too many times before. “There are no horses. How does it go?”

The Doctor collected Maggie on his arm again. “All, or at least most of your questions will be answered once you step inside. Remember, I did say you’d have to trust me.”

“I don’t know.” Maggie hesitated. “Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe I should just go back to the railing?”

Rose took Maggie’s other arm. “Wait, Maggie, please don’t go. If the Doctor says he thinks he can help you, then you really ought to give him a chance. I know he’s helped me, and I’m sure he’ll do his best to help you.”

“Besides,” the Doctor gently lifted Maggie’s chin, “What’s a few minutes for a cup of tea and a nice chat? As far as I can see, there’s no reason to be in a hurry to kill yourself. The Thames is going to be there for a very long time and this version of the London Bridge should be here for oh … at least another twenty or so years, but … this chance I offer you now may never come again.”

Maggie looked into the faces of her new friends and saw nothing but reassurance. She quickly weighed her options: no chance as opposed to some chance, no matter how crazy it all seemed. Considering she had been on the verge of giving away her life, what did she possibly have to lose by giving these two a chance to save it?

Maggie snuggled next to the Doctor, “Oh well, in for a penny in for a pound eh?”

“Good girl,” the Doctor praised, and as unbelievable as it would have seemed to any passer-by, the threesome disappeared inside the small blue box.

To be continued ...

Editing by Holly Logan