Title: Ulysses (8/?)
Author:
aibhinnRating: PG-13
Characters: Rose, Jack, Ten (will end up OT3); the Firefly crew.
Spoilers: DW through Journey's End, TW through Children of Earth, and all aired Firefly canon, including episodes and the movie Serenity.
Betas:
larielromeniel,
dameruth, and
canaana, though I did some editing after I got it back from them, so if I messed it up, it's not their fault!
Summary: After the death of the blue-suited Doctor, an immortal Rose uses the dimension cannon to teleport herself back into her home universe. Or should that be 'Verse? Crossover with Joss Whedon's Firefly.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. I promise to put everything back where I found it.
Author's Note: I'm baaack! Thank you for sticking with me, everyone. A slightly longer chapter, this time-and the plot moves forward apace. :)
Chapter 1 |
Chapter 2 |
Chapter 3 |
Chapter 4 |
Chapter 5 |
Chapter 6 |
Chapter 7 |
Chapter 9 |
Chapter 10 Rose followed Simon and Kaylee through the crowded streets of Pallas, one arm wrapped securely around her backpack. She had no intention of letting anyone close enough to see into it, let alone allow anyone to grab it. Bigger-on-the-inside technology had no business in this time and place.
What she noticed most about this century, on every planet she'd visited, was the fusion of Asian and Western cultures. It permeated everything, from the food to the clothing to the language. As a child, she'd grown up among a mix of languages-London was one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world, after all. Though she had to admit, it had felt a bit odd not to automatically understand everyone when she'd first been stranded in Pete's World; she'd had to get used to not having the TARDIS's translation circuits working any more. Even now, a lifetime later, she missed how much easier the ship's telepathic translation made travelling.
"Here we are!" Kaylee said, stopping in front of a food stand that stood beside a huge, covered marketplace. "Simon and me always eat here, every chance we get. Best noodles you'll ever have, and he likes the crispy duck, too." She smiled up at her boyfriend. "Anything special you want, Rose?"
Rose's stomach informed her in no uncertain terms that it was more than time for lunch, and she shifted her weight, looking up at the menu board.
It was written in Chinese.
Rose hesitated. She knew Simon could both read and speak Chinese as fluently as he could English, and knew that Kaylee spoke almost as fluently. Every member of Serenity's crew could speak some, at least enough to swear. How common was it to be able to read Chinese as well? If she admitted ignorance, would that raise suspicions, or at least eyebrows?
She smiled at Kaylee. "You've eaten here often enough, you know their best dishes. Order for me; I trust you." She reached under her shirt for the money belt she wore around her ribs, just below her breasts. "What do I owe you?"
"Nothing," Simon said firmly. "You're our guest."
"Simon, you don't have to-"
"We want to," he said. "You don't necessarily know where your next meal's coming from; we do. Let us feed you at least once."
It was a very sweet thought, and Rose had to admit that she'd thought about finding a way to make some money, and soon; her stash was thinning more rapidly than she cared to admit. "It's really not necessary," she tried again.
"It's our pleasure," Simon said. "Really. Please allow us to buy your lunch."
Was it two refusals or three that was considered polite by this culture? Rose wished she remembered. An understanding of cultural cues was basic training for all Torchwood employees, and she knew she'd gone through the Chinese module. She racked her brain, and finally decided to take a risk. "Thank you," she said, "but I don't want you to feel obligated."
"Rose," Kaylee said, "come on, just let us buy you lunch, okay? It's nice that you're bein' polite and all, but we can manage just fine, and we want to treat you."
Whew, Rose thought, and smiled. "All right," she said. "And thank you. I appreciate the thought."
Simon went up to the counter to order, and Rose and Kaylee found a seat at a rickety little table set up near the food stand. "I wish I was more like you," Kaylee said out of nowhere as they settled themselves and their belongings.
"More like me?" Rose repeated, startled as much by the timing as by the sentiment. "Why would you want that? You're lovely just the way you are. I wish I had half your understanding of machines."
Kaylee shrugged. "Machines just talk to me," she said. "Ain't hard to fix 'em if they're tellin' you where they hurt. Not like you-you're so polished and beautiful and mannered, like Inara. Only with her, you can tell it's cause she studied her heart out for years; it's all so perfect, nobody could be like that naturally. With you, you ain't perfect, but you're still so good at it that it's like you growed up with money or something. Like Simon, never a hair out of place or a word misspoke." She glanced away, clearly a bit embarrassed. "I ain't never gonna be like that."
Rose suddenly understood what the real problem was. "Kaylee," she said gently, "Simon loves you. He loves you for who and what you are, and he doesn't want you to be something you're not."
Kaylee sighed and ran a hand through her tousled hair. "But look at me! I'm always covered in dirt or engine grease or both, and my hair's always a mess, and I don't never get to dress up in something girly. Well, I did once, and it was a real nice party, but that was just the once, y'know? I want to do something that makes me look like a girl."
Rose patted her hand where it lay on the table. "Then we'll see if we can do that," she said. "Maybe we can find a nice dress for you. Something you can wear just for Simon."
Kaylee's eyes lit up, but before she could say anything, Simon returned with a tray of bowls full of noodle soup, along with a plate of sliced meat and three sets of chopsticks. Grateful that London in both universes had been filled with Asian restaurants, Rose picked up a pair of sticks and one of the bowls, and helped herself. It was delicious, and she closed her eyes in appreciation. "Oh," she said. "Oh, this is so good."
Kaylee smiled as she chewed and swallowed. "Told ya," she said. "Worth a bit of a hike to get here. And there's the market just next door. You ain't never seen anything like it, not off the Core worlds at least. Fresh fruit! And vegetables! And goods from all over the planet, things people make at home and bring into the city to sell."
"There are quite a few co-ops here," Simon added. "Both farming and otherwise. Most of the planet's agricultural; there's not a lot of industry here, beyond cottage industries. But you'll find some of the finest silk thread in the 'verse here."
Rose's eyebrows lifted. "And you say Inara buys some of her clothes here?" she asked Kaylee.
"Oh, yeah," Kaylee said. "Really beautiful stuff-well, you've seen her wardrobe. Ain't no place you can find silk like you can get here, 'cept maybe on Persephone, and everything there's marked up so high, you couldn't afford it anyway. I found some beautiful red-and-gold silk last time we was here...." She sighed, remembering.
Rose caught Simon's eye, and he winked at her. Clearly he understood his girlfriend's hinting perfectly well. "We'll wander over that way after we eat," he promised, and took another bite of noodles.
Rose smiled and tucked into her own meal. With a twinge of sadness mingled with despair, she remembered a pair of twinkling brown eyes that used to wink at her like that, and the indulgent smile that accompanied them. What if she couldn't find the Doctor? What if she was stuck here in this system for years, decades, alone?
She'd learn to live with it, that's what. There wasn't anything else she could do.
***
The Doctor paused mid-turn, frowning. The TARDIS was trying to communicate with him, but the distance between them was so great, and his own exhaustion so complete after weeks stuck down here, that he was having a hard time understanding. "What is it?" he asked, trying to focus his thought as sharply as he could.
Her response wasn't clear, but carried an overtone of pleasure and relief, which she communicated with an image of Rose, smiling at him. Something good was happening, or about to happen, he translated-something to do with him.
"I'll keep an ear out," he promised her. Anything that was good for him would likely be bad for the owners of the mine, and something they'd be loath to share with their "employees," but his better-than-human hearing had stood him in good stead more than once since he'd awakened here.
The TARDIS sent a sense of exasperation, and another picture of Rose. This time her lovely face bore an expression of annoyance, as though he were being excessively thick.
He frowned, about to ask the ship about it, but one of the foremen came sauntering in, clipboard in hand. The TARDIS subsided to a barely-noticeable presence in the back of his mind. "You're slowing down," the foreman noted.
"Am I?" the Doctor said noncommittally, continuing to load the cart at the same pace. He'd learned that arguing did nothing but earn him a punishment, usually administered with a fist, though he'd heard of men who'd been whipped for talking back. By the same token, not saying anything earned him the same sort of reaction-for "ignoring a superior." He thought the safest thing would probably be to apologise and at least make an appearance of trying to work faster, but he was damned if he'd apologise for not working as fast as his captor wanted him to.
The foreman's face darkened, though it was difficult to see in the flickering light of the single torch that lit the cave. "You questioning me?" he demanded.
"Of course not," the Doctor said. It wasn't easy, but he managed to keep a slightly-distracted, inconsequential tone to his voice, purely to irritate the man. He wasn't willing to earn a punishment that he might be days recovering from, at least until he had a means of escape he could take advantage of, but nothing said he couldn't be annoying. A corner of his mouth twitched with a sort of amusement; it was almost like the old days of taunting Davros.
The words were correct enough to keep the foreman from retaliating, though his glare made it clear that he wasn't entirely satisfied with the Doctor's tone. "We need to pick up production," he said. "You'll be loading three more carts a day than you have been. At least, for now; we may increase that more, if demand continues to pick up."
The Doctor tried not to wince; a cart took anywhere from forty-five minutes to an hour to fill, in the painstakingly specific way they forced him to work. That was three hours' more work a day-and three hours' less sleep a night. That wasn't as important to him as it was to the others, of course, but he was certain their workloads would be increasing, too. He forced himself not to react outwardly. "All right."
The foreman chuckled. "Don't worry, Doc," he said, almost conversationally. "We're not monsters. You'll have extra help in here soon, never fear." He noted something else down on his clipboard, then left.
The Doctor's hearts sank. "Extra help" meant more men captured and forced into slavery. How much longer could he let this go on?
"Not very much," he growled under his breath, and bent to pick up another bag.
***
Kaylee and Simon came around a corner in the market as Rose stopped at a booth selling silk scarves and bolts of cloth. "There you are!" Kaylee said, smiling. "Find anything you want?"
Rose grinned. "Lots of things I want," she said truthfully, and looked over towards the elderly woman in charge of the booth. "It's all beautiful." The woman smiled and nodded, clearly pleased by the compliment. "Pity this isn't the sort of thing we're looking to invest in." She gave a last, longing look at a beautiful gold-and-blue scarf hanging from the display, then turned and stepped away, joining Simon and Kaylee. "Where to next?"
"I thought maybe we should look into getting you some of those contacts you were talking about earlier," Simon said. "What sorts of goods are you looking to transport?"
"My company has a line on supplying food to two or three of the big hospitals on Osiris," Rose said glibly, repeating the story she'd made up for Zoë's benefit a couple weeks earlier. She wished she'd chosen some other story, but she'd not known about Simon's past life at the time, and now she was stuck with it. "My boss is hoping we can expand that in time to supplying more-maybe even as many as half, if we're lucky. But to keep our costs low enough to compete, we need to go directly to the farmers. Co-ops might well be more willing to trade with a small company than with a big one, and we could guarantee their food would go to hospitals. People seem to find something inherently attractive about helping the sick and injured, especially if they don't have to leave their own comfortable lives to do it."
Simon huffed out a laugh. "You're not wrong," he said. "The concept of helping others is one everyone can get behind, but actually doing it? Not many people have the stomach for that. Do you know which hospitals you'd be supplying?"
"No, sorry," Rose said with a shrug. "The contract wasn't finalised yet when I left. It's a good bet they're waiting on me to report back before they do anything more; they'd need to know how much they can get in the way of supply before they sign up to take care of a specific demand."
"Logical," Simon agreed. "I used to work on Osiris, you know. Some of the best hospitals in the system are there. You'll be helping, or at least feeding, a lot of people if it goes through."
The food market, when they reached it, was huge and glorious. After three weeks on board Serenity, used to reconstituted food and protein supplements, Rose was taken aback by the sheer pleasure invoked by the mere sight and smell of so much fresh food. She bought each of them a piece of fruit and they nibbled as they went, admiring the variety of produce.
"The co-ops have their booths along the side," Simon pointed out, indicating a line of smaller booths along the wall. "You could go talk to them."
"Yeah, I think I will," Rose said. If she didn't, she'd cause them to wonder why, and she didn't dare break her cover as a businesswoman. If she told Simon and Kaylee that she was actually searching for the Doctor, they'd want to be part of the search, and Rose was convinced that it would only put them at risk. From what River had said, the Doctor was in some sort of danger himself, and she had no intention of dragging her new friends into it. She might still be jeopardy-friendly, herself-that wasn't the sort of thing you grew out of, especially working for Torchwood-but she wouldn't cause trouble for anyone else if she could help it.
She made her way over towards the co-op booths and picked one at random, smiling at the young man behind the counter. She could feel Simon and Kaylee's eyes on her from a few yards away, wishing her luck. "Hi there," she said. "Wonder if I could take a few moments of your time? I represent Wooden Torch LLC, and I'm looking to buy some produce." The company name was the best she could come up with on short notice, and she found herself hoping that Torchwood hadn't survived to this century-or at least, not out here.
"Well, sure, ma'am," the young man said, eyebrows rising. He brought out a folding chair for her. "Would you like to have a seat?"
Rose thanked him and sat. "Our company is looking to expand into the haulage business," she said, "and we have a line on supplying the catering companies which take care of a couple of the big hospitals on Osiris. Because we're a small business, we'd like to support other small businesses-specifically, family farmers. Do you think this might be something your co-op would be interested in?"
The young man scratched his chin and looked thoughtful. "Well, now, I don't rightly know," he said. "Ain't something we do much, you know. Bring our produce to Pallas, sure. Sell it off-planet…ain't many of us ever thought to do something like that. Only one I know of, in fact-one of my neighbours brings in some of his wheat crop to a freighter every year, right about this time." His gaze flicked up over her shoulder and widened slightly, but then focused back on her. He smiled. "Maybe you could wait here a spell? There are some other people from our co-op around; I could get hold of them and see if any of them would be interested."
That flicker made Rose uneasy. She smiled back at him with an ease she didn't feel. "Certainly," she said. "But I'd like to look around a bit more. Haven't eaten in a few hours; thought I might take advantage of some of the fresh produce around."
"Oh, I can bring you something," he said, a bit too quickly. "Won't be any bother."
"But then I won't have a chance to see everything that's on offer," Rose said reasonably. She rose from her seat, trying not to look like the hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. "I'll just be over there, talking to some of my friends. You can find me easily enough, I think." She nodded towards Simon and Kaylee, and while his attention shifted briefly to them, glanced over in the direction his eyes had darted before.
Two men stood there, clearly trying to blend in with the shoppers there, but there was something not quite right about them, even beyond the dark suits they wore. Something a bit off; something a bit out of place.
Not least of which was the way they stared at her, eyes narrowing. She was a target in their sights.
"All right, that seems sensible enough," the young man said, bringing her attention back to him. He held out a hand. "I'm Patrick, by the way."
She had no choice but to shake his hand. "Donna," she lied. "Donna Noble." She tilted her head towards the tables and carts of produce behind her. "I'll just be over there," she repeated, and turned, forcing herself to walk at a comfortable pace back to Simon and Kaylee, rather than bolting. Shit, she thought. Shit, shit, shit. I thought I'd left them behind on Newhall. How'd they find me out here? She rubbed the wide silver bracelet on her right wrist. Then again, I was sure my disguise was perfect on Newhall, too. Where are these blokes coming from?
"What is it?" Kaylee asked as soon as she was within close earshot. "You're all tense."
"I think we'd better go," Rose said quietly, hoping the expression on her face was outwardly as pleasant as she was trying to make it. "Slowly and without drawing attention to ourselves. There are a couple men who seem a little too interested in me, if you know what I mean."
Simon and Kaylee exchanged a glance and fell into step beside Rose. "Back towards the ship?" Simon asked quietly.
"If we can," Rose said. "But if it's as bad as I think it is, I may slip away and leave you alone. If I do that, don't try to follow. I don't want you caught up in this."
"We know more bolt-holes in this city than you do," Kaylee whispered as they rounded a corner and found themselves among booths filled with metal goods-mostly second-hand kitchenware. "Besides, you don't think we'd just leave you, do you?"
"You should," Rose hissed. "These men are not the sorts who'll just let you go because you're not the ones they're looking for. They want me, but if they manage to get a couple of others in the bargain, so much the better."
"Who are we looking for?" Simon said, his gaze scanning over the crowds around them, one hand on Kaylee's waist and another on the back of Rose's shoulder, protectively.
"Two blokes," Rose said. She was looking, too. "Trying to look like 'just folks' and not succeeding very well."
Simon's face hardened. "Got them," he said tightly. "There's a crowd of people between them and us; if we're lucky, they'll lose us in it." He pressed gently against both Kaylee and Rose, urging them forward. "Let's go."
They ducked behind a row of booths and broke into a jog, trying to get out of view. Rose's skin tingled with the familiar sensation of fear, and her mind raced, trying to think of places where they could hide. Too far back to the ship from here. Not the restaurant; that was just a booth, too. This market is too open. We need to get out of here, into alleys and buildings where we can disappear long enough to get us into some sort of disguise-
Rose blew out a breath as they came to a halt, kneeling behind the last of the tinker booths. "Can you see them?" she asked.
"No," Simon began.
"I do," Kaylee said. She was peering through the crack between two booths. "They're about thirty meters away, stopped and looking. It don't look like they can see us, but this ain't no safe place. Too open."
"I agree," Rose said. "But if we leave, they'll see us. This is about the only cover we've got."
One of the tinkers from the booth turned around and saw them, crouched there. His deep brown, tanned face creased with anger as he came out through the door in the back of the booth. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "You thieves? Think you can steal from me?"
"No!" Kaylee said, outraged.
"My sister's ex-husband tracked her here," Simon said glibly, drawing a sharp look from Rose. "We're trying to keep her away from him. Last time he saw her, he beat her bloody; we're afraid he's going to do something worse if he finds her again."
The tinker's brows drew together, and he turned to look through the booth and out over the crowd. "Black suit?" he asked. "With a friend?"
"That's him," Rose said, using the same Rim accent she'd used back on Newhall, when she'd been helping Mal replace the secondary buffer panel. A glint of light caught her eye: a door out of the market, about forty feet away but in plain sight of the men chasing her. "If we can get out that door without them noticing, we'll be fine."
The tinker turned back around to look at Rose. He reached down and pinched her cheek. His dark-tanned face looked determined. "Don't worry," he said. "You stay here; I'll take care of it." Without another word, he stepped back into the booth.
Rose looked at Simon, who looked worried. "Quick thinking," she whispered.
"Thanks," Simon said. "I hope it's enough."
"Oh, it will be," Kaylee said with certainty. She kissed his cheek. "Look at you," she said fondly. "All growed up and lyin'."
Simon flushed and Rose chuckled as the tinker came back out. "Got him," the tinker said with satisfaction. "When you hear the ruckus start, make a run for it. We'll keep you out of his dirty hands, never fear." He patted her cheek.
"Thank you," Rose said with feeling.
"You're welcome. Now get ready to run!" He disappeared back into his booth with another pat to her cheek.
It wasn't more than another minute before there was a shout, and then a commotion began, growing louder and angrier by the second. "Come on," Rose said, and they bolted for the door, slipping through and out into the sunlight. Someone slammed the door behind them-one of the tinker's friends? Or the man himself?-and they paused, trying to get their bearings. "Know where we are?" Rose asked.
"I think so," Simon said. "The port should be back that way." He pointed to the left, and froze. Rose turned, and stared into the face of one of the men who'd been chasing her back on Newhall.
But how did he get here?
The look on her face must have been warning enough. "Run!" Kaylee said, and they took off to the right, ducking sideways between two buildings. They sprinted down the alleyway, ducking between stacked pallets of goods, their pursuer on their heels.
The alley intersected with a road choked with people and carts. "This way!" Rose called, turning left and weaving through the traffic like a motorcyclist at rush hour back home. "I know a short cut!" She passed by a sign advertising carts for hire-with the advertisment written twice, using almost identical language, which seemed odd-and ducked beneath an archway into another alley.
"Thought you'd never been here before," Kaylee panted, at Rose's heels.
"I haven't," Rose said, but somehow, she knew exactly where she was going, as clearly as if someone had labeled the way with signs that said "This way to safety." I'll think about it when we're safe, she decided, dodging between a horse-drawn cart and a mass of people gathered around some kind of street musician, and dashed down yet another street, reversing direction to head back towards the ship. If we can shake him, she thought, we can get back to the ship safely-we should head back towards the center of town, lose him in the crowds-
Another alley-a narrow accessway between two buildings, barely wide enough for a twenty-first-century car to pass through-came up on their right, and without hesitating, Rose turned down it-and stopped short, feeling as if she'd run headfirst into a shock field.
At the end of the alley, not twenty feet ahead of her, sat right in front of a brick wall, sat the TARDIS.
Kaylee and Simon skidded to a stop beside her, gasping for breath. "I think we lost him," Simon said. "Nice work, but we should probably find somewhere to hide, if we can. At least for a little while."
"Maybe we can hide in that blue box down there," Kaylee said, nodding towards the end of the alley. "What's a police public call box?"
Hope was swelling in Rose's chest-the kind of hope she'd not felt since she'd stepped into the dimension cannon back on Pete's World for the final time. She fished under her shirt for the key she still carried, and felt an enormous smile spread across her face. "Come with me," she said. "I'll show you."