Chapter Text
Vastra’s first exposure to the nightmare of a human known as The was a rather grim one. As it stood, he was pessimistic, surly, and quite possibly depressed. Though realistically he should be dressed in something more appropriate to the era, he merely wore a long overcoat in place of the usual leather jacket.
“Hey,” he said, sounding not at all Victorian. “Nice to meet you, um...”
“Vastra,” she said. “Jenny, could you possibly fetch another cup of tea?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Jenny nod. “I’ll be back soon, ma’am!”
Vastra smiled grimly. “Welcome to my house,” she said, as means of an introduction. “And who might you be?”
She knew exactly who she was, of course; her version of the Doctor had made sure of that. The one from straight after the Time War, traumatised and embittered. Not so much in this human form, free from the burdens of his past. “Mr. T. Smith!” he said, surprisingly happy. A good start.
“And what,” she enquired, “might the T stand for? Best be quick, Smith.” There was already a painful amount of Smiths. Dear God.
“The.”
“You’re not serious.”
“No, of course not! Stands for Trans Rights.”
“Well, Trans Rights, do come in.”
“You can call me Doctor, ‘s fine.”
“And do you have a doctorate?”
“‘Course not! I just thought it sounded cool.”
Typical. Predictable, and with all the usual theatrics to be expected of the Doctor. Regeneration changed nothing, clearly.
“You got biscuits?” he asked, sinking into a plush chair.
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“Oh, it’s just that the ingredients were probably sourced from slaves an’ got here through really unethical practices an’ I just hate that, don’ you?”
She grimaced. “Truly terrible, Doctor.”
This was unfortunately familiar. He gave a thumbs up (reminder to check if those even existed yet). “Pass the milk?
“Certainly.”
He grinned, pouring it into his tea. “Did you know some cows were probably seriously mistreated in the making of this milk? I mean, they’re hardly free animals!”
“Shut up.”
He didn’t.
“Shut the fuck- oh no.” A blonde woman came rushing down the stairs, grinning.
“Ya called?” she yelled.
“No! No, I did not!”
Vastra slammed her head against the table, hard.