*squeak* I bring fic!
Obverse!Fic, to be specific.
Hope you like it! ^_^;
Title: Only a Northern Song
Characters: The Doctor, Fitz, Compassion, the Master. Only not really.
Pairings: Doctor/Fitz, Doctor/Master. But only if you want to.
Warnings: No, no....I'm terribly vanilla...
Summary: This is a story about spring....
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Compassion looked up from the flowerbed as she heard footsteps. A brief ripple of annoyance broke over her - what was the use of that mangled car if none of them bothered to use it? - but she let it pass, watching it go. She turned her attention outwards, and saw just what she'd expected.
The Doctor was back.
He wasn't alone.
Eyes narrowing, the young woman decided she didn't like the man walking along besides the cheerily-smiling Doctor. He was too dark, like someone had spilled ink on a photograph, and it was as if he drained the light from the surrounding area.
The Doctor didn't seem to notice.
"I think," the Doctor may whisper later, eyes sparkling with a conspiratorial light, "he's a sorcerer."
Should he say this, Compassion will raise an eyebrow and take a bite of eggplant, and Fitz will be worried and ask what he means. The Doctor will shrug and try to explain, but the dark man will come back from washing his hands and the Doctor will consider it rude to talk about people behind their backs while they're sitting at your table.
But this hasn't happened yet, and Fitz hadn't even returned from shopping, and hadn't passed the vegetables yet, and so he wasn't aware if he'll pick up the eggplant or not.
Somewhere between Fitz returning and the discussion of sorcery, however, the man introduces himself as Koschei, and as the sun sinks low in the sky the Doctor will ask him to stay just long enough to eat. Compassion and Fitz will share a look, wondering if this is such a good idea, but the house belongs to the Doctor and even during one of his spells - which don't happen very often now, though the new medication makes him feel rather dizzy and his teeth itch - it will always be the Doctor's house and they're only the borders.
Fitz won't let the Doctor or Koschei out of his sight, and the Doctor might smile at him fondly as he adds the rice to the boiling water and call him a mother hen, and should this happen, Fitz will say nothing but will shrug and steal one of the strawberries meant for the cake. Koschei may glare at him, but no one will be looking then. These two things are not mutually exclusive, so perhaps they'll both happen. Either way, the Doctor will appreciate the help he gets when Fitz helps clean and put away the dishes, and when he comes out with him when the Doctor goes outside to read in the garden.
Compassion would quietly watch the dark man even as he walked away into the night that would swallow him whole. She will not trust him, even as he smiles, because she knows more than you'd expect, looking at her. She won't look him in the eyes, except for one glance where she sees collapsing stars and dying galaxies. If he happens to make a toast, which he might, and something small happens to tumble into one of their glasses of wine, which it might, she will make sure to make it seem accidental when she knocks it off the table before one might take a drink.
Koschei could do any number of things. He might slip into the shadows, and with one quick movement something sharp and silver will strike out, and as Fitz fades away, Koschei will put his soul in place of the last. He could ask the Doctor to come away with him, offering all the wonders he dreamt of at night, and the Doctor might take his hand. Perhaps Koschei will lean in and whisper his magical words of power, and Compassion would be not but a marionette anymore. Maybe the sorcerer will simply bow, say goodnight, and with time he shall pass from their memories like smoke from a snuffed candle. He may open his pockets and draw out a prize for each of them, book, bell, and candle, though if for good or ill is yet to be known.
In fact, all of this is still unknown.
Because for now, all that had happened was Compassion dusted the dirt off the front of her trousers, standing as she pulled off the garden gloves, watching the Doctor walk up around the curved path - that looked a bit like a reverse question mark, should you ask Fitz - to the big blue house, the stranger he had picked up in the city walking along beside him. Fitz was still out shopping, currently trying to chat up a woman he met near the eggs, who happens to have five children waiting for her at home, but Fitz doesn't know so he's still going to try, but not get anywhere for obvious reasons. Koschei was just a bearded man, not yet a sorcerer who could change their lives forever should he so wish it. And the Doctor was, as he always was, a usually happy man who had dreams of much more than could be found in one small blue-green planet.
For now, anything could happen to them, with various degrees of probability and plausibility.
For now, nothing had happened to them.
For now.
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((I cannot explain, as there is nothing to explain. This does not exist, except for the moments that it does. It thrives when no one is looking, growing in amongst the sweet basil and wild thyme, blossoming with the geraniums and daisies, but should you search for it you will find not but shadows and soil. There is an infinitely fine line between the land of dreams and insubstatiability, and the realm of solid forms and reality, though no one can tell the difference if they look hard enough. So walk the curving path to the blue house, open the door and take a chair, because you aren't really there. ...Or are you?))
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....Tah-dah! *sheepish!smile*