JANUS DAYS by Lori Summers


Part Two of the Yin Yang Trilogy

In Roman mythology, Janus was the doorkeeper of heaven and the god of beginnings and endings. Janus was represented in art with two faces, looking in opposite directions, symbolizing his knowledge of the past and the future.

And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you
But I don't know how...
Because maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me.
	-Oasis



Chapter 1:  ROADS

	Dorothy McShane stood in the TARDIS kitchen, waiting for her soup stock 
to boil.  She could never recall whether low or high altitude cooking rules 
applied here.  She was just contemplating chopping the celery when one of her 
twin daughters ran in, crying.
	"Mommy, Tegan pushed me!" she sobbed.  Her sister was close on her 
heels.
	"I did not, she ran into me!" the more assertive of the two five-year-olds 
retorted.  
	"Did not!"
	"Did too!"
	Dorothy suppressed a smile and knelt beside her quarrelsome children, 
putting herself on their level.  "Susan, Tegan, you know what I told you about 
fighting."
	They looked up at her with wide, adoring eyes.  "Yes, Mommy."
	"Sisters should always get along, right?"
	"Yes, Mommy."
	Dorothy stood up.  "Well, I think we've learned an important lesson today, 
haven't we?"
	"Yes, Mommy."
	"Good."  
	Tegan tugged on her mother's apron.  "Mommy...why did you stop being a 
fighter?"
	Dorothy smiled down at her.  "Why, you know that Mommy gave up 
fighting and a lot of other things that suited her so she could stay home and
raise the two of you!"
	Tegan frowned and seemed like she had more questions.  "Well...when's 
Daddy coming home?"
	"Should be anytime now."  As if on cue, she heard the distant front door 
open.  Smiling, she straightened her dress and touched her hair.
	"I'm home!"
	The girls jumped up and ran out of the kitchen.  "Daddy!" they squealed.  
Dorothy followed at a more sedate pace.
	"Here are my little tadpoles!  Oof!" she heard him exclaim, no doubt as he 
was tackled by his daughters.  She came into the console room to see him 
struggling under the weight of two boisterous little girls.  He smiled at her.  
"Hello," he said pleasantly.
	She came forward and kissed him, taking his hat and briefcase.  "Hello, 
dear.  Did you have a nice day fighting evil?"
	"Oh, same old same old.  As usual, the boss was on my back all day."  
They looked at each other, frowning at this odd comment, and then they both 
shrugged it off.  "Oh, I almost forgot, the Brigadier and Doris have invited us to 
dinner on Friday."
	"Oh, that's nice," she said, looking down at the briefcase.  She couldn't 
take her eyes off it, and for some reason it really bothered her.  "Also the 
Jacobsons want to have us over for brunch as sort of a thank-you for lending a 
hand with the bar mitzvah."
	He nodded noncomittally, shooing the girls out of the console room.  "You 
can put that down now," he said, indicating the briefcase, which she still held in 
her hands.
	"Why do you carry this briefcase?" she asked, staring down at it.  The 
question suddenly seemed extremely important.
	"Isn't that what husbands and fathers do?" he said, grasping her 
shoulders.  "And you put it away when I get home, and take care of things here.  
Isn't that what wives do?"  He started shaking her.  "Put it away," he kept 
repeating.  He wouldn't stop shaking her.


	Ace opened her eyes and looked around, disoriented.  The Doctor was 
leaning over her, shaking her shoulder, a bemused expression on his face.  She 
came fully awake with a start and sat up, shivering while sweat ran down her 
brow.  He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her shoulders with the practiced 
touch of someone who's been through this before.
	"That must've been a strange one.  You kept repeating 'briefcase.'  And 
something about...soup stock?  Are you all right?"
	She looked around at the cheerful disarray of their quarters and at her 
husband's curious face.  She exhaled and put a hand to her forehead.  "Oh, I had 
the strangest dream.  It was like...I dunno what it was like.  Man, I gotta lay off 
the peanut butter and pickle sandwiches right before bed."
	"Well, now you'll have to tell me all about it," he said, smoothing her damp
 hair back from her brow.
	"Yeah, okay...just first tell me one thing."  She paused, hoping he wouldn't 
think she was totally off her jump.  Then again, she supposed it was far too late 
for that.   "Do you own a briefcase?"
	He looked puzzled.  "Why would I ever need a briefcase?  My pockets are 
dimensionally transcendental!"  Ace laughed, the shreds of the dream scattering 
already.


	"It was like some sort of nightmare Donna Reed thing where the women 
always wear high heels and are delighted with their dishwashing soap."  She 
shuddered again.  "Well creepy."
	He regarded her thoughtfully from his favorite armchair in the corner.
	She scrubbed her hands over her face, sighing.  "What do you suppose it 
means?"
	"Well, I'm not a psychiatrist but it seems to me like you still have fears 
about losing your identity through marriage."
	She twirled her wedding ring on her finger without really realizing she 
was doing it, although he noticed.  "I'd think I'd be over that by now.  It's been a 
year and here I am, still myself."
	He shrugged.  "Old fears often surface when you least expect them.  I 
should be over my acrophobia, it's been ages since my fourth regeneration, but 
it still sneaks up on me sometimes."
	"Yeah, I guess."  She stared down at her hands for a moment.  "There was 
one sorta nice part, though," she said softly, not looking at him.  "Those little 
girls were sweet...and they called me Mommy."  Her voice was almost a 
whisper.  She raised her head.  He was looking away.
	The pause stretched out interminably.  "I was waiting for you to bring it 
up," he finally said.
	"I was waiting for *you* to bring it up."  They looked at each other 
blankly.
	After another uncomfortable pause he cleared his throat and seemed to 
buck himself up, speaking with phony confidence.  "Well, let's talk about it now."
	Ace drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, 
resting her chin on her knees.  "When I was a kid I wanted to be a mother very 
much...but I always assumed that I'd never get the chance, or that I'd be a 
terrible one so I shouldn't even try.  Then later I didn't think I'd live long 
enough, or that I'd ever be in one place long enough to meet someone with whom 
I'd want to have children...so I sort of got used to the idea that I'd never have 
any children of my own.  It just seemed like something so far removed from my 
regular life that it wasn't even an issue anymore.  It stopped bothering me after 
a while, and up until a year ago I was comfortable with the fact that it was just 
me, myself and I.  But now...everything's different."  She looked up at him.  
"What about you?  I have absolutely no clue what your feelings about this are."
	He crossed his legs and thought for a moment.  "I can say with complete 
conviction that I have never given it any thought.  Like you, I always assumed 
that for me it was a non-issue.  It simply was never a variable I'd even 
remotely thought of as being personally relevant, even when I was young."  He 
looked up at her and smiled wistfully.  "The whole concept leaves me sort of 
humbled, to tell you the truth, and even a little awestruck.  To create a new 
person, maybe a little girl that would look like you and study thermodynamics, 
or a boy that would have an knack for explosives and beating his father at 
chess...it's quite something to think about.  Right now, there's you and there's 
me...but this would be someone who was both at the same time."
	Ace smiled at him affectionately.  Being married had changed him in some 
ways but for the most part he hadn't changed an iota.  He could still be 
annoyingly enigmatic, portentous, and even chillingly Machiavellian...and 
sometimes she got just as angry with him as she ever had, but then all of a 
sudden he'd come out with something like that and she'd remember why she 
loved him despite his faults.  She lay down and curled up in the quilt, thinking.  
"I think we would be good parents," she said softly, "and I think that to have a 
child with you would make me very happy...but there are other considerations."
	"What do you mean?"
	"Doctor, we don't exactly lead a conventional lifestyle, and I wouldn't 
have it any other way, but I'm not sure it's fair to bring a child into such 
a...hazardous environment.  I'm not ready to settle down on some planet and let 
someone else battle the dastardly perils of the universe and I'm sure neither 
are you.  I mean really, how many times have one or both of us been in mortal 
peril since we were married?  I've lost count.  You and I, we're used to it and 
we're ready for it, but having a child would change things in more ways than we 
can even think of just talking about it."
	He nodded.  "That's all true...but isn't it true for anyone?  Humans' lives 
change a lot when they start families too.  These considerations are not unique 
to us."
	"And she'd have no friends her own age, just being alone here with us all 
the time.  It might stunt her growth or something."  She fell into an uncertain 
silence, the weight of these issues troubling her.
	The Doctor walked over to the bed and crouched next to it, folding his 
arms on the edge to look into his wife's eyes as she lay on her side.  He reached 
out a finger and gently tilted her face up so she was looking at him.  "Nothing is 
certain, my love.  People have brought children into far more questionable 
surroundings than these and with far less forethought, and I think the fact that 
we're even debating these issues speaks well to our fitness as parents.  Chance 
favors the prepared mind...if we're aware of the possible problems we can try 
to be ready to deal with them."  
	"It is possible, isn't it?  I mean, genetically?"
	"Of course it is!  I'm walking proof."
	She frowned.  "And unless you've invented an invisible, microscopically 
thin condom we don't take any precautions.  So..."
	He matched her frown.  "Why hasn't it happened yet?"
	"Yeah."  She lifted her head.  "What if...what if there's something wrong 
with me?" she said nervously.  "My body's been through a lot in 34 years."
	"Now, let's not get crazy about this just yet," he said quickly, wanting to 
calm the frightened look in her eyes.  "You're healthy, and there's no reason we 
know of why you shouldn't be able to have children.  It could also be me...I am a 
hybrid of two species, you might say, and..."  He stopped short as a biological 
fact struck him.  "And hybrids are *usually* sterile, mules for example."  He 
swallowed hard.  That thought had never occurred to him, and it suddenly 
seemed to have a great deal of power to make his blood run cold.  In the space of 
a few short minutes of conversation, it had become important that he and Ace 
be able to have children.
	Now it was her turn to want to reassure him.  She reached out and stroked 
his cheek with the back of her hand.  "Oh, let's not worry about it right now.  
There's time.  We'll just see what happens, and if we decide we need to take a 
more...shall we say, aggressive approach then we'll investigate these 
possibilities.  For now let's just go on with our lives, but with the knowledge 
that if it does happen it'll be welcome."


	The next day Ace was in the control room underneath the console, her legs 
sticking out as she lay on her back looking up into the machinery, the toolbox at 
her side.  Over the years and especially over the last one, she had become 
almost as knowledgeable at handling the TARDIS as the Doctor was, and he now 
trusted her to make repairs and fly the temperamental ship.  It helped that she 
and the TARDIS had a special connection, which had been true for a long time.  It 
usually tried to help her with whatever she was doing.
	She thought she just about had a recent navigational wobble corrected 
when the console room doors banged opened and the Doctor came hurtling 
through, where he immediately tripped over her legs and went sprawling in an 
undignified heap.  Ace scrambled out from under the console.
	"Are you all right?" she asked, swallowing back a snicker, helping him up.
	"Yes, yes," he said hurriedly, his mind already on the next thing.
	"Well, where's the fire?  You'd think the demons of hell were chasing 
you..."  He wasn't paying attention, but was changing their course.  "I guess 
we're not going to the test match after all," she said under her breath, peering 
at the coordinates, which she recognized but scarcely believed.  "Doctor," she 
said.  He didn't react.  "Doctor!"
	"What?"
	"Mind telling me why we're going to Gallifrey?"
	He put a hand to his forehead for a moment, then turned to her.  "I'm 
sorry, it's rather confused.  I've just had a call from Romana, very urgent.
And very loud," he added, rubbing his temples.  "I'll have a headache for a 
week, this had better be good."


	Romana paced in a little-used back room where she and the Doctor had met 
once or twice over the last few years.  He could land here without attracting 
the attention of the Gallifreyan authorities, whom he liked to avoid at all costs.  
She'd made the summons as urgent as she could as soon as she realized what 
day this was for the Doctor, and she hoped he wasn't right in the middle of 
something that would prevent him from answering quickly.
	To her relief, she'd only been waiting about twenty minutes when the 
TARDIS materialized.  The doors opened and he started to emerge but she
pushed him back inside, following him in.
	"No, stay in there, I'm coming with you."  She closed the console room 
doors behind her.  "Dematerialize now," she said to Ace, who was standing at 
the controls.  "Doesn't matter where, just go."  Ace didn't question her but 
simply nodded and did as Romana asked.
	The Doctor turned to his old friend.  "What's going on?  First you nearly 
take my head off with that summons, and now you all but hijack us!  What about 
your duties?  Are you in some kind of trouble?" he said, this last said rather 
dubiously.
	Romana shook her head.  "No, it's not me, it's just that I realized earlier 
today that..."  That was as far as she got.  
	The TARDIS suddenly lurched violently to one side, throwing the Doctor 
and Romana against the console and Ace across the room.  Ace tried to gain her 
feet but the whole room was pitching and yawing like a roller coaster and it was 
all she could do to hang on.  She could see the Doctor trying to reach the 
controls, and Romana was just hanging on to the console for dear life.  The floor 
gave a sickening dip and Ace was thrown against the wall again, banging her 
head painfully.
	The room continued to lurch, and Ace became conscious of wind 
surrounding her.  Where can that be coming from? she wondered as it whipped 
around her with increasing ferocity.  This felt familiar.  Then out of nowhere 
she was surrounded by a rushing roar and a flash of light.  She threw up her 
hands in front of her face to shield her eyes...and then it was gone as quickly as 
it had appeared.  The TARDIS also stabilized, and the wind subsided instantly.
	She opened her eyes slowly and was relieved to see in front of her the 
console room wall with its familiar roundels.  For a moment she'd feared the 
worst...what had just happened had been a little too reminiscent of the 
timestorm which had sent her to Iceworld for her fated meeting with the 
Doctor.  She turned a little to see Romana holding out her hand to help her up.
	Ace took it, rubbing her head with her other hand.  "Thanks.  What the hell 
hap..."  She stopped short.  "Romana...you're wearing different clothes," she 
said, puzzled.  She looked at Romana's face...the Time Lady was looking back at 
her blankly as if she had no idea who Ace was.  With mounting dread, Ace turned 
towards the console.  The Doctor stood looking back at her with no more 
recognition on his face than was on Romana's.  After a moment's consideration, 
he decided to go for the direct approach.  He broke into a grin that could have lit 
up Chicago and ran a hand distractedly through his mass of curls.  "Hello there," 
he said affably.  "Who might you be, then?"
	Ace slumped against the wall and put a hand over her eyes.  "Son of a 
bitch," she muttered.