Smooth As Clockwork

We had no choice but to tell her the truth, being in circumstances we hadn't prepared for was a normal occurrence, but this was a little extreme; even for the Doctor. At first, like I knew she would, she didn't believe us, insisting we were spouting nonsense; it reminded me of the time I met the Doctor myself. I thought he was crazy too, so I can understand why she wouldn't believe us. Having your world, the one you believed in, the one you learnt everything about, flipped around can be hard to comprehend.

After some wearing down, she still didn't believe us, but we had a chance. A chance to prove what we had been telling was true, and the first thing that came to mind, was the TARDIS. Quite possibly, the most amazing box in the whole of reality. When we told her we could prove it, she seemed slightly interested in our argument, but hesitant in following. I, again, could understand her reasons.

The Doctor, of course, was the one who got to open the TARDIS doors. He pushed them both open despite the large letters reading 'Pull To Open' and Feline, stood at the entrance, mouth hanging open in astonishment. I watched her reaction go from amazement to confusion.

"Come in! It's perfectly safe! ish." The Doctor said, flipping switches and buttons that did absolutely nothing.

"It's upside-down." She said confused. Her statement made me look into the interior, and so it was. Upside-down that is. The Doctor, being his oblivious self hadn't noticed that he had been trotting on the roof. Seems like the gravity still pulls us to the floor, or the ceiling, depending on your point of view... Then the Doctor noticed the problem and he frowned slightly, just for a second before pressing some more 'important' looking buttons and with a blink of an eye, the entire interior was again, the right side up.

"There! Now it's perfectly safe!" The Doctor smiled eagerly awaiting Feline's words. The words he loved hearing.

"ish" I whispered under my breath with an even brighter smile than the Doctor.

"Its... Its AMAZING! It's so much bigger on the inside!" She yelled out, eyes wide and hooves running along the console. Her eyes darted from the weird circley thingies (I love those circley thingies). The Doctor beamed proudly while watching the new mares eyes dart throughout the entire console room, then land on the Doctor.

"If what you've been saying is true--"

"Which it is"

"Then you're an alien." She said seriously, hooves laid against the console, dangerously close to pressing a particularly important button, luckily, she moved it away before she got the chance.

"Well, when you look at it that way, yes. Yes I am, and so are you." The Doctor said with a smile.

"How am I an alien?"

"You're a different species to me, and in your point of view, that is classified as an alien, is it not?" He leaned against the console like he knew everything about everything, like he was the wisest of the wisest. Not true. He's quite young for his species really. One good thing about being the last one of your species (or 'second' last technically), is being able to 'bend the truth' about your planet.

"I guess you're right." She drifted off of the console and slowly moved around the console, awestruck at the architectural design of this place.

"So, since you guys definitely aren't from around here." She beamed at me and the Doctor, "Then you're going to need my help."

The Doctor walked out wearing a white ageing shirt with a dark blue vest, a golden pocket watch pocked out of his right pocket and the golden chain dangled out of the pocket too. He had a long black trench coat and a slightly uncomfortable smile on his muzzle. He looked quite handsome, but the outfit was, noticeably a little small.

"Sorry Doc, but that was all I had. I can take you to get a new one later today if you'd like." Feline said, admiring the outfit, more than the pony. I, on the other hoof, was trying not to laugh. He looked extremely uncomfortable, and the suit did look quite confining. Bringing his unhealthy habit with running, this definitely wasn't a good thing, so I'm guessing, he'd want to get a better fit as soon as possible.

"Your turn Derpy!" Feline said, pulling me into her room. I looked at the Doctor as I was dragged through, and he was fidgeting, pulling at his sleeves, trying to make it more comfortable, but to no avail. I wonder why she even had a suit, it looked like she lived alone, so why would she have one? Didn't make much sense...

Feline closed the door behind her. Her room, needless to say, was neat. The bed was neatly made, and her desk hadn't any stray species of paper; the paper she did have were neatly stacked in the middle with a bottle of ink and a quill sitting in it next to the stack, she had scrolls in a bookcase nestled in-between books. There were some recognisable books, that I had grown up with, and some I wasn't familiar with. She had books about History, Geography and even Mechanics. The Doctor had probably noticed these, and was probably thinking of a way to persuade Feline into allowing him to read them.

She had a vanity underneath a window, with three connected mirrors, kind of like the ones that nursing homes had, the ones that old ponies owned. On said vanity, were small files of perfume, all different colours and sizes. When Feline came up to me, with a few dresses in her hooves I felt a sudden wave of anxiousness wash over me.

A fact that most ponies know, is that the average mare has the same size as each other, so size wasn't much of an issue. Judging upon Felines strong purpose to get us clothes, must mean that that is the customary thing here. I'll admit, I never really wore clothes, Winter being the only exception. It just felt so constricting.

She had three dresses, and she played them out over her bed,

"Choose one!" She said gleefully.

I felt rude, just choosing one of her items of clothing, and then wearing it, for who knows how long!

"A-Are you sure?" My voice came out a lot more staggered than I hoped it too, sending a red streak across my nose.

"Of course! This won't be forever, I'll take you out and get you your own dress for sure!" It was like she could read my mind, and she was so happy, I couldn't help but smile despite my nerves, that at this point, were disappearing. I let out a mumbled 'Thank you' and took in the details of the three dresses. They were simple for sure, and each one was completely different from the other.

The first dress was a purple one, with different hues of purple fabrics layering atop each other in an almost elegant way. Black lace was sewn onto the edges of the fabrics. Where the chest part of the dress met the skirt, it 'poofed' up slightly, no other words came to mind to describe it. Speaking of the chest part, there was thin gold thread weaving in graceful patterns, almost so thin you couldn't see it unless the sun was hitting it, letting it gleam, or you were close enough. The sleeves ran down to the end of your hooves, in a tight-fitting manner.

The second dress was more of a cotton-candy pink, and very poofy. The sleeves 'poofed' at the top, and white lace covered the edges. The chest area was all pink, but the skirt was just a layer of pink fabric, though white lace lined the bottom. This dress seemed almost like a wedding dress. There were small flowers engraved in the entire dress, now that I look at it more. Yes, definitely flowers and swirls. It reminded me of Pinkie from back home, this is probably something she'd get married in; I wonder if there's a Pinkie here...

The third dress, was a simple light blue short dress. It had sleeves that went down to my elbows and stopped, there were a a few pieces of lace that had fallen off and frayed the dress, but I thought it looked lovely. In fact, the entire dress looked old, vintage almost, if it had a different design it could definitely look vintage. The chest was the same shade of blue, but the skirt was a slightly darker shade with dark blue lace lining each layer, leaving it with a slight extravagant feel to it.

After looking at each one in depth, I had chosen the third.

"I thought you'd choose that one! It'll look perfect on you!" Feline said happily, agreeing with my choice and leaving a faint blush on my cheeks at her comment. No pony every really made compliments about me, usually because of, well, my eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure out why, stereotyping is probably the main reason.

One of these days, I'll change the world for the better. Well, back to now. I wriggled into the dress, squirming in the tight spots, trying to not look ridiculous, which is kind of impossible when you're trying to put a dress on. Imagine the Doctor in this situation. I let out a short laugh at the thought, and realised what I just did. I managed to get the dress on, and Feline nodded in a way to say that her hypothesis was correct. She then pushed me out the door, and the Doctor was standing in front of a mantle piece, looking at some photos and sea-shells that lay on it, occasionally shifting, still trying to get the suit to fit probably.

He looked very smart in that suit, smart and handsome. I wonder who it belonged to...

Once the Doctor noticed me, he smiled.

"You look lovely Ms. Hooves!" I shivered and blushed at his compliment, and his use of my name. Ever since I met the Doctor, I didn't mind that ponies called me Derpy Hooves, as long as they spoke of me nicely, or as nicely as they consciously could. It just didn't feel right when he called me Ms. Hooves.

"Thank you Doctor, though, you don't have to call me that." Feline trotted to a doorway, that from my educated guess,  looked like it lead to the kitchen.

"Any pony for tea?" She asked sweetly, eyes darting between us.

"Oh, that'd be lovely thank you!" I said thankfully. A cup of tea sounded perfect at this moment.

Feline nodded and turned towards the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

A bleach white mare with an auburn mane and tail stood in front of her office door. Her mane was done up in a tight bun, fatigue written across her firm, serious, almost unreadable face. She sniffed as she pushed her bleach white office door and entered the bustling bleach white hallways. Ponies immediately stood to attention at her sight. Her face didn't stray from her path, but she could feel the fear radiating off of them. A small evil-like smirk slithered across her face in an unearthly manner.

Her hoof-steps sent chills down the spines of ponies all down the hall. She turned sharply towards a large doorway, with a green, shiny, non-transparent shield blocking her from her path. Two male guards stood on either side, and at the sight of her, they pressed a button simultaneously. A small patch of shield parted to allow her through. She trotted through, tail swishing with her hips as she continued to her target. As soon as she got through the shield, the hallway turned a grimy black, told patches sprinkled over the walls and ceiling. There weren't many ponies here, only ponies of level 6 and above. Occasional agonising screams echoed throughout this part of the compound and ponies exited rooms with surgical masks, and a small group of shivering nurses behind them.

When she got to her destination, she stood in front of the door, and for the first time that day, her normally unreadable expression gave way to one of nervousness, before resuming its natural expression. A thin grey metal plate was pasted onto the door, one word was engraved in the cold metal.

Master.

Just reading it sent a shiver down her spine. Quite right too. No pony knew his capabilities as well as she. She drew out her breathing for a moment, before pushing forward. When the door opened, two ponies turned towards her. A pale green mare with her pink mane done up in a messy bun, and a pale red stallion with a short mane. They stood at attention, and when she nodded at them each they stood at ease.

"Status report Peachy?" The bleached white mare said, voice soft and clipped against the beeping of the machines that surrounded this small room. There was a large window that looked into the other room, where the 'patient' was occupying. Peachy, the pale green mare, looked slightly flustered as she was only new, and of the 5 weeks she'd worked here, this was the first time, her boss had talked to her. The poor soul couldn't find her words in time.

"Fine, if you want to be that way, Streak. Status report." Her voice angled towards the pale red stallion, who turned towards the computer screens.

"Patient 205 hasn't let up, though he has withstood remarkable circumstances despite--" He began off well, but quickly rambled.

"Back to the report Streak." She said, eyes scanning the screens and more importantly, the data.

"Yes, sorry. Patient 205 won't speak--" He started again.

"You already said that." She sighed, "Are there any problems?" As the words washed over the two other ponies in the room, the normally strictly-business feel let out into awkwardness. The bleached white mare noticed this and gulped down seeds of fear. She turned towards the two ponies.

"What's the matter?"

"Well, uh, you see... He... He wants to talk to you..." Peachy said quietly, eyes watching her boss intently for signs, clues, anything. Yet, her expression remain unreadable. Except for her pupils shrinking, letting them know she was scared. A rare occurrence from their boss. Their job requires a good stomach, loyalty and most of all, fearlessness. And their boss, was probably the only pony in the compound who has never once been afraid. So this left them speechless. They knew she was prideful, so letting her know that it's okay to be afraid was definitely out of the question.

She coughed away the silence. "Very well. Pass me the tape recorder."

The kitchen door opened and out fluttered Feline, balancing a tray with three cups of tea in her hooves. She lay in on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, taking a cup and handing it to me, and another to the Doctor. She took the last and sipped the liquid.

"Who are you?" The Doctor asked to of the blue, eyes watching Feline and her tea. She paused at his words, laying her cup against the coffee table once again.

"I'm FelineFluff." She answered sweetly. It was unnerving. After I took a sip of the sweet tea, I put my cup back on the table. The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

"No, you're not, and I want to know who you are." He asked again, placing the cup down on the table. Something told me that the Doctor was right. She looked at the wall in front of her and sighed.

"Fine then." She sighed, in a sad way. She closed her eyes and a bright green light enveloped her and brunt my skin. I bit my tongue to prevent myself from screaming, but it burnt so badly. It hurt so much. Then, the light faded to reveal, what I was more familiar too. She had changed into a black creature with thin limbs that jutted out from her body like she was made of straws. Her legs had recently healed scars and slashes running up, down and across them. Her mane was straight and shiny, locks of it covered her face and her tail was short. She was quite tall, around about the size of Celestia, maybe even more. She looked like a changeling, but with out the cut out circles in her legs and sharp fangs.

I quivered in my seat from the sight of her. The Doctor just grinned like he had discovered something new, which in his case was slightly true; I forgot to tell him about changelings...

She sighed again, in a shameful sort of way, and her voice came out crackling like she was talking through a radio. She didn't look at either of us, like she was embarrassed.

"Now you know... Please don't report me!" The words tumbled out quickly and guilt was echoing in her staticky voice. Like she had done something so morally wrong, she couldn't live with herself. In fact, now that I really looked at her, she looked young. She looked young and innocent, yet so sad. Reminds me of the Doctor in a way.

"Why should we report you?" I managed to gather my words despite fear slowly consuming my body.

"Well, you know, 'high alert' and everything..." She muttered sadly, like 'high alert' was her fault. "I'm sorry Derpy." She said sadly towards me. Almost like the way the Doctor says sorry to those ponies and aliens when he knows he can't save them. I shivered. The Doctor just began looking nervous and upset.

"F-For what?" I managed to stutter. This whole situation was just weird. She opened her mouth to try and say something, but nothing managed to come out. She was opening and closing her mouth in patterns, slowly getting more frantic, like she was trying to warn us, but before I could try and decipher the message, she let out a frustrated sigh and went to the window and slid it open.

"I tried to warn you. I'm sorry. Goodbye and good luck." She said seriously, looking back at us before looking at the ground. She reached to her torso, and her hoof disappeared for a moment before coming back into view and revealing a strange cylinder. She threw it at the floor and smoke enveloped the room. The Doctor and I began coughing as the hot smoke filled our lungs, and it burnt. A lot of things about that changeling burnt. My mind began to go fuzzy, thoughts dulled and senses dispersed. My eyelids felt heavy, and with a small whimper, I fell into the comfortable chair, only one question running through my mind for the final time.

What was she trying to warn us about?

"Ah! Nice to see you Diamond! How about you let me out of these ropes and we have a proper getting, eh?" The stallion exclaimed happily. Diamond laid the tape recorder on the bleach white table and sat down on a plastic chair, watching the stallion who was strapped against a large table, angled upright so he could look at her. Despite knowing that her two comrades were behind the glass, watching them incase something went wrong, she had a sneaking suspicion that he was just playing with them, mainly her.

He did it before, so why not now. He wore a dangerous grin and a sparkle in his eyes. It made her want to tremble.

"You know that's against the rules. Which, you are currently not playing by." She said to him, frowning, close to a glare. She wanted to beat him senseless so bad for what he did. He didn't deserve to live. Not after what he did. Focus on your mission Diamond. Don't think about it. He'll pay later if all goes well.

"Hey! Who likes rules? Nobody!" He grinned, despite his disadvantage, or many disadvantages to his situation.

"I can do this the easy way, or the hard way." She growled, getting up from her chair and walking around the table, so she was in front of him. He looked down at her in mock fear.

"Oh no! What are you going to do to me?!" He said in mock fear, before laughing. She glared at his antics. He looked at her again, but in deadly seriousness. "Don't lie to me, I know you can't hurt me. Mostly because of timelines, and a little bit out of fear, so don't bother trying to scare me, because after what I've seen and been through, I don't think it's possible anymore. " He grinned in a way that made her tremble for a moment. "And, it's against regulation." He finished. He shouldn't know this. He really shouldn't so how he did, scared her.

She couldn't speak. Not after what he had just said. It was practically impossible for him to know that information.

"Oh, did I scare you little filly? I thought after last time, you--" He was cut off as her bleach white foreleg was pressing against his neck. He gasped for breaths, though he had an unnatural grin.

"Don't you dare mention that again." She growled so angrily, it made the two other ponies behind the glass shiver. She pressed harder, finding pleasure in hearing his breathing scattered, and knowing that his life could end right here, right now. But of course, regulation before personal matters. Reluctantly, she pulled her hoof away with a deadly glare at the stallion before turning towards the door. She got to the door, and right when she was about to open it,

"You know, after that, I think your friends deserve some pony better than you. Didn't your parents ever teach you, violence is never the answer?" He said, his voice slightly strained after the force of her choking. A sudden surge of anger washed over her, and she half-turned to the stallion strapped up, glaring daggers at the pathetic excuse for a pony, before a tidal wave of depression washed over her. She turned back to the door, and with his menacing laugh echoing in his room, she left.

The other two ponies stood, jaws hanging, and she glared half-heartedly at the pair. They turned back to their computers. She walked out of the room and back into the dirty hallways, and walked.

She didn't notice the tears down her cheeks. Though, in her defence, (if my calculations are correct, which they usually are,) she hadn't cried for 20 years. How could she have known?