RoxiCallahan

 Satine sat cross-legged on the TARDIS floor, looking indignant. "You can't just DO that!" exploded The Doctor. "Time is a fragile thing! If you'd actually destroyed everything, do you realize what might have happened? You could have thrown off the political system for the REST OF TIME! That's FOREVER! And once it's done, there's no going back, Satine! You have to understand me here!" She just sat on the floor and glared. "You're JUST LIKE he used to be!" he yelled, gesticulating wildly. "No regard for the rules! Never bothered listening to anyone else's opinion!" "Like who used to be?" I asked. The Doctor froze mid arm-sweep. "No

  "1605..." I said to myself as I hurried along between Jack and Amy. "1605..." I was scrolling through my mental list of Satine's little obsessions when suddenly it hit me. "Oh, God," I moaned. "V for Vendetta!" The Doctor looked at me in something that was either shock or befuddlement. I decided it was shock when he said, "She blew up my fishsticks. She wouldn't think twice about parliament." I winced. Satine had called Guy Fawkes and his men "wimps" for not just blowing the friggin thing up already. They were gonna get hung anyway, right? I tried to explain to her that nice people didn't blow up important political structures. "I hav

When we landed, I was wearing dark wash skinnies to compliment my peacoat, and I felt a lot more secure. "Bring me back a stuffed hippo." Satine was still buried in her game. "BUT THOSE ARE LIKE A THOUSAND POUNDS!" I yelped. "I didn't go with you on that little excursion, remember" Satine reminded me. "I stayed home and played Pokemon." "Shocker shocker," I said, remembering the day Mom and I had left Satine to go shopping at Harrod's. We had had a lovely time, and so had she, no doubt. When the TARDIS door opened, I was expecting the shimmery hustle and bustle of London. I got hustle and bustle alright. Hustle, bustle, chickens, an

"It's bigger on the inside!" I marveled, the first to drop down through the door into the TARDIS. "It's a different dimension!" Said Satine cheerfully as she landed next to me. The Doctor landed next to us. "Yep!" Satine leaped. Before The Doctor even knew what was happening, he got a faceful of floor. "Satine used Tackle!" she said cheerfully. "It's super effective! Doctor flinched!" I buried my face in my hands. Amy patted my shoulder comfortingly. "Give me back my laser," Satine snarled, her voice suddenly serious. "Mmkfaufgwefgyd!" "If you turn him over he can talk better," I suggested. She did. "Give me back my laser!"

We sat in the large kitchen/dining room, sizing each other up and trying to figure everything out. Satine had put the fish sticks in the oven, and they were cooking as the Doctor waited in something resembling agony. "We were going to Barcelona," Rory whined. "I wanted to go to Barcelona." "This is California," snapped Amy. "It's almost bloody Barcelona, enjoy the heat." The Doctor stared at the oven timer. Amy waved her hand in front of his face. "Doctor. DOCTOR!" "HUH?! Oh." He coughed. "I'm The Doctor." "Nice to meet you, Doctor," said Satine, as I said, "Doctor Who?" He smiled. "Just The Doctor. Meet Amy, Rory, and Jack."

It was about 3am when I wandered up the long flight of stairs to my room. I was fairly sober, one wallbanger wasn't going to damage me much, but I was exhausted. Satine's light was on; I saw the yellow glow pouring out from under the door. Curious, I pushed it open. She was sitting on her bed, a Zelda graphic novel propped open on her lap, playing with her bizarre laser pointer. "Whatcha doin' up?" She shrugged, not looking at me. "Can't sleep." I sat down on the floor, waiting for her to go on. Eventually she continued to speak. "I just feel like something's coming. Like... a clue about my parents. Or something. I don't know." I n

 I swirled the orange cocktail round and round in its glass, watching the ice cubes click off the edges and the bits of pulp spinning in the brightly colored whirlpool. Ellen flopped down in the seat next to me, a lime-colored martini in her left hand. She swished her black hair over her shoulder and grinned a vixenish little grin at me. "So," she said, "Heard you got busted. It was the talk of the carnival." She giggled. "Yeah," I said thoughtfully. "I guess the original Helen of Troy's toga wasn't quite so short." "Did she really call you a little slut and threaten to call child services?" "No. Her exact words were, 'I'm ashamed t

 It was late. The room was full of light. And Roxanne was dancing. Her hands were up over her head, her eyes were closed, and her slim little hips moved in time with the baseline. Her shoulder-length caramel hair swayed back and forth, and the red lights bounced off the strands, framing her entire face with an auburn glow. Her tight Miss Sixty Roana singlet was about as flashy as you could get, and her spiky ankle boots and destroyed jeans completed her usual edgy look. She was the life of the party, the center of attention. She didn't need a spotlight, she created one for herself. It was late. The room was full of light. And Satine was r