Crack Fic: InterUniverse Travel Incorporated
Summary: Remember Crack Fic: InterUniverse Travel Incorporated III? Torchwood got involved and Maladict took a trip to Cardiff. This is the other half of that as it were. What happened to Polly while Mal was drinking coffee in the rift and how the TARDIS got them both home.
Pairings: Discworld: Polly/Mal - established relationship, Doctor Who: None.
Warnings: This oddity of a tale takes place before “Children of Earth” because I started writing it not too long after “Journey’s End” and then it died a death. I STILL haven’t seen “Children of Earth” yet because I'm a easily distractable fool. Otherwise nothing really, but it is crack!fic so insanity and forced Narativium inhalation do occur. Oh, and mild swearing.
Disclaimer: Author owns nothing and does not intend to profit from the work. Characters from Monstrous Regiment belong to Terry Pratchett and those from Torchwood/Doctor Who belong to the BBC, who can have my as yet unborn children upon request.
Sing it if you know the words: It's just a jump to the left. A little step to the right. With your hands on your hips, and your knees in tight...
~X~
Take The Second Star On The Right And Straight On Till Morning...
They were travelling quite peacefully towards Nononanette[1] when it happened. Of course Donna would have to admit her definition of “quite peacefully” had expanded since she'd met the Doctor to include bumps, jolts and the occasional detour to the Jurassic period. However, to all intents and purposes the TARDIS (and therefore the Doctor) had not a care in the world. He was even humming cheerfully under his breath, some 29th century ditty about flying across the stars if she was any judge. It was still a disappointment to the latest companion that songwriters hadn't altered across the ages. Mind you, she thought charitably as he ventured into the eighth verse, there weren't really that many things you could rhyme with moon.
Donna (Noble, best temp in Chiswick, 100 words a minute and as worthy of respect as any skinny spaceman she'd thank you not to forget it) sat there on that inauspicious morning, watching the Doctor fiddle with his beloved TARDIS and letting her mind wander where it willed. She had just decided that they should move the exceedingly anatomically correct sculpture out of the library to make way for the painting she'd picked up at pSotherbys when an annoying alarm began to blare. The TARDIS shuddered like an ocean liner coming into contact with a rude and persistent iceberg. They fell out of the time vortex and away across space, spinning gently in an unpleasant fashion that threatened to re-introduce Donna to her last meal. She held on, swallowing spasmodically as the Doctor rushed around, pushing buttons and hauling on levers until at last it seemed seemed they had levelled out. There was a worrying grinding noise coming from somewhere overhead, but as it didn't seem to bother him much she let it go for another time. Another time that was when her breakfast wasn't trying to leave her body through her nose.
There was a shaky period of silence. Donna took a cautiously careful breath. Nothing happened. She took another and then, having decided that her stomach would obey her rather than the other way around, she gathered enough air to say “what the hell was that?”
He didn't reply being too busy fighting a persistent steam leak to acknowledge her. Donna took the opportunity to cast an eye over the controls. A screen was bleeping. The warning swirls displayed weren't ones that she recognised despite their recent “interesting” adventures. There seemed to be some kind of interference affecting the display, the spirals stuttering in interrupted loops. At least it wasn't the one that sounded like a kitten crying. That (and its connected outcome) had haunted her dreams for a while.
“Oh no. Not again!” The Doctor, glancing over her shoulder at the cryptic swirls swore in Galifreyian under his breath and yanked on the closest lever. Everything went abruptly sideways. By the feel of it he had just pulled the TARDIS into a U-turn. Donna grabbed on and once again made a mental note to buy the boy racer a “How's My Driving” sticker. It would serve the idiot right to get phone calls from the 32nd century about his lack of overtaking skills.
The Doctor was clambering from console to console around the central column, pushing buttons furiously. Donna only just caught the muttered “what is he doing here?” as she swung past, her hold proving less secure than previously indicated. But when she shouted “who?!” over the ear shattering racket the Doctor only ignored her. Before she had a chance to take issue with his secrecy they landed. As a veteran of planetside arrivals by now (both bad and good) Donna classified this one as a squelch. A solid earthy sort of squelch. Not desert or ocean then. She didn't let go immediately. Planets could be tricky, especially with regard to spaceships and un-cushioned landings. She'd never known a planet could hold a grudge until that time on Morosus. Mind you, she hadn't known a planet could shrug either and the resulting seismic shudder that had knocked them off into space had been very educational in any number of fields.
“Where are we?” She had asked mere as a conversational opener, preparing the way for the more difficult questions to come but the Doctor continued to ignore her input completely.
“Stay inside Donna” he ordered breathlessly and snatched up his coat as he hurried round the console. Fighting with an obstinate sleeve he attempted to turn on the security systems with one foot at the same time.
“Now hang on a minute.” She grabbed his arm as he passed. “You can't tell me where we are, you won't enlighten me as to what that insane bleeping noise is and you won't let me come with you? Hold your Pegasi, Spaceboy! Donna Noble is nobody's stay-at-home, twisted-ankle, scream-and-fall-over sidekick!”
He sighed frustratedly. “I can't tell you where we are because I don't know.”
Oh.” She let go of his arm. “And all the clever machines with maps and incomprehensible swirly writing?”
“Are saying things that are completely impossible.”
“Really?” She looked from him to the flashing screens.
“Donna. I'm not messing about, I promise. The TARDIS is worried. Please, just listen to me this time, ok?”
“And you're just going to go out there. Into whatever it is. Without knowing a single thing about what might be waiting.”
“Oh yes!” The grin split his face into a million excited wrinkles and faced with such enthusiasm she could only sigh and shake her head.
Taking her lack of protest as permission granted, the Doctor opened the outer door a crack and stuck his head out to survey the immediate surroundings. Unfortunately this intelligence gathering sortie was foiled by impenetrable darkness and Donna, craning over his shoulder took in the nothing quickly. Another cellar, cavern or sealed storeroom then. She felt the movement as unconsciously he reached for his sonic screwdriver, and smiled. It was virtually hopeless as a defensive weapon (the list of things it couldn't do that hung on her wardrobe door was lengthy) but he still felt better with it in his hand. He fiddled with it for a moment, running through the settings. Ignoring him Donna kept scanning the small sliver of nothing she could see and as her eyes adjusted to the gloom she realised they'd merely landed during the hours of darkness. Up above the faint twinkling of unfamiliar stars showed here and there through the clouds.
Squinting up she leant too far out and was brought back to earth by the Doctors insistent arm across her chest pushing her back inside. Drawing back for an essential second to shoot her a repressive look he reiterated his command for her to stay put and slipped through the door. Slipped being quite the apposite word as he almost immediately lost his footing on the muddy ground. Windmilling his arms, he wavered for a moment before catching his balance again. She grinned but wiped the amusement from her face when he glanced back. His emphatic gesture was very clear and reluctantly she obeyed and closed the door. It locked automatically behind her but by then she was already halfway across the console room and scrambling around to the one screen that displayed the feed coming in from the outside world. She'd been impressed when he'd first shown her that (a time machine with CCTV!) but it had quickly become just another tool. As she watched the vague figure on the screen took a cautious step, testing the ground. Finding a solid spot he stood for a moment, probably stretching his back and allowing his eyes to further adjust to the darkness as he cast about for any sign of life. He appeared to be an open area that ran away from him in all directions until it vanished into the gloom. There was a low mound over to his left that looked like it held some potential and as she watched he turned carefully, keeping his footing with difficulty. Facing the right direction at last he raised a hand to his eyes, squinting into the darkness, trying to make out any signs of life. It was at this auspicious moment that something shot out of nowhere and tackling him around the knees brought him to the ground with a bump.
Actually, Donna thought randomly as the two figures struggled together, it was probably more of a squelch - what with the ground conditions. The next moments were rather confusing with figures boiling out of nowhere but when the screen cleared it was to show a stage empty of anyone. The Doctor had gone.
[1] Sand, sea, sun and possible coup d'etat involving cockroaches[2].
[2] Don't ask.
~X~
Donna had been forced to stop pacing as she had quickly discovered it was disturbing the TARDIS. She'd settled for an uncomfortable perch on the edge of the padded seat instead. The screens were still showing their cryptic warnings, all but one which presented nothing but dark murk since the Doctor had been dragged out of sight. They could have been doing anything to him. She reached out to retune the signal for the 14th time.
“Great.” Donna stared at the grainy picture but could make out nothing more than a vague bump off to the left. “All the technology in the world and he can't get a better resolution than this” she grumbled. The screen flickered and went blank. In the midst of apologising to the TARDIS (something she had stopped feeling foolish about doing a good six months back) she found the lose connection and with a precisely targeted thump got the thing working again. She could just make out three vague forms moving in her general direction. The middle one couldn't be anyone other than the Doctor and though the picture was indistinct it appeared he still had all his arms and legs attached.
“Not Daleks then” she joked patting the console under her hand and felt an answering sense of relief from the TARDIS. Donna was just leaning in to squint at the strangely familiar figure on the left when all three vanished from view and she heard the Doctor's key in the door.
“Here we are!” He bustled in cheerfully holding wide the door. “Come along in, we'll have your Lieutenant back in two shakes of a lambs tail.”
“You’re sure we can get there and back in time?” He'd found a woman anyway. Typical. Only been on the planet a quarter of an hour and already got a woman interested in his TARDIS. Donna sighed. She couldn't take him anywhere. This one at least seemed polite and considerate, Donna could hear her scraping the mud from her shoes before entering.
“I did explain about having to find the right narrative dimension?” Donna's mind threw up an image of a competent woman of mature years who wouldn't suffer fools gladly.
“Oh yes, she can do it.” The Doctor was bouncing in anticipation. Poor Doctor. Poor foolish Doctor.
“She?” The owner of the voice stepped over the threshold at last.
Donna frowned. She was shorter than her voice indicated, younger as well though deep lines etched into a tired face thwarted any attempts to guess her age. She walked straight-backed, her head held high and wore her uniform authority that belied her years. However, innate dignity (even in bucket-loads such as she had it) couldn't disguise the tattered state of her filthy breeches and sometime green jacket or the ingrained dirt that had invaded every centimetre of exposed skin. Feeling the gaze on her their guest drew herself up taller, straightening a crumpled collar and pulling down the tails of her jacket. There were faded stripes of rank on the sleeve of that jacket, possibly shiny gold braid at one time, sewn on with pride, sewn tightly to outlast all circumstances. Now only the bedraggled evidence remained, dangling untidily, torn out in some dark and desperate struggle. Donna shook her head, banishing the images that invaded her mind, the stumbling feet, the panting breath, the confinement of the tunnel - dank walls closing in, no room to draw a sword. She shut the door on them firmly as she'd been so carefully taught and cast a quick worried eye at the Doctor. Whatever was going on out there didn't seem to have affected him. He was talking again, more interested in showing off his treasure than any psychic disturbance.
“The TARDIS!” He gestured expansively. “Time And Relative Dimension In Space!”
Rotating on the spot their guest gazed up and around, taking in the majesty. “Nice”
“It is bigger on the inside you know.” He seemed somewhat slighted and the third member of the party, following on behind, chuckled to himself. Donna had been all ready to give the Doctor a piece of her mind for getting kidnapped and ruining his suit but the words fled when she saw who was accompanying him.
“Jack!” She ran forward, all thoughts of their guest drowned in the joy of seeing him again.
“Donna!” The tall captain swept her off her feet, spinning her around as though she weighed no more than a feather before placing her gently back down. “How's my favourite red headed beauty? You managing to keep this perpetual loose cannon under control?”
“I try, I really do, but I'm not not sure I'm having any effect. Some days I swear he doesn't even hear a word I say.” She grinned, raising an eyebrow in the direction of the individual they were maligning.
“You poor thing.” Jack slipped a comforting arm around her. “You know that there's a place for you at Torchwood any time you feel the need to escape this drudgery.”
He moved his hand a little lower.
“Oi!” Donna slapped the hand away taking a step back and emphasising the space between them. “Very nice that would be with you attempting to cop a feel every five minutes and Ianto shooting me daggers across the rift and very likely poisoning my coffee the minute I turned my back.”
Jack looked hurt and was about to deny such scurrilous charges when she pinned him with a glare and he had to shrug and grudgingly admit she might be right. She came back to him for another hug, surreptitiously checking him for bruises scrapes or any other damages. There were ways to make even an immortal man uncomfortable. She knew this in great detail because he'd told her one night when her memory had still been flickeringly uncertain. He'd had too much to drink and thinking she'd never remember had sat on beside her, his quiet voice outlining ways and means, unable to stop once the floodgates were opened. She'd thought she wouldn't remember, had almost hoped it for the first time since the fingers of fire had rekindled her memories of that forgotten year. But she had remembered though she'd never told him that she did. Some secrets need to be told but only in the security of knowing that such things will never be mentioned again. He wasn't the only one, the others had shared things with her too, unburdening themselves as though at the confessional none would ever be able to approach again. She had listened and some she had remembered. But she had never, ever, told.
Releasing Jack at last Donna turned her attention back to the Doctor and the woman hovering nearby watching all this with accepting but tired eyes. Now they were only a few feet apart Donna could see the dark circles that smudged over thin cheeks and the general air of exhaustion that clung around the woman. As though reading her thoughts the woman stretched, sticking two fists into her back and rotating out her shoulders. The cracking noises that ensued brought answering winces from Jack and the Doctor and their torturer smiled apologetically as she massaged the back of her neck.
“Sorry, sleeping on the floor may be good for the back, but it plays merry hell with my neck. Always takes a while to loosen up in the morning.”
Left to break the awkward silence Donna came forward, a friendly smile expanding across her face and her hand outstretched. “Welcome aboard.” She glanced at the Doctor for introductions but he stared back at her blank-faced causing her to roll her eyes in exasperation. It was Jack that stepped forward instead.
“Donna, this is Captain Perks, Light Infantry. Captain Perks this is Donna Noble, faithful companion to that idiot over there and fabulous individual in her own right.”
“Polly” said the introduced Captain Perks and shook hands. The Doctor, determined not to be entirely ignored pushed Donna aside to shake Polly's hand as well, somewhat tardily adding his voice to the welcome. Over his shoulder Donna acknowledged Captain Perk's amused glance of apology with a resigned shrug of her own. Their visitor had worked the Doctor out remarkably quickly and Donna couldn't help but look forward to her further acquaintance. She opened her mouth the say something polite and conversational but the Doctor, his ability to stand still exhausted, was already bouncing back to the console, eagerly flicking switches and spinning dials.
“Let's get started shall we?” He pulled down a long lever, frowned as it grated against something unseen and then swung his full weight on it to force it into position.
Donna shook her head, collected Captain Perks and brought her up to the centre console. She smiled reassuringly and indicating the padded areas advised her to hold onto something. The incorrigible Jack stepped forward to offer his services but was politely and firmly turned down. He acquiesced with good grace piquing Donna's interest as to what exactly had gone on before the Doctor had snatched him away.
Captain Perks watched the frantic goings on, a pillar of calm in the centre of the storm, not asking questions or distracting the Doctor at vital moments as some visitors were prone to do. She seemed perfectly happy to stay out of the way, balancing herself against the jolts and sways with her feet firmly planted on the gratings. Suppressing her intrinsic nosiness Donna dragged her eyes away from that silent figure. However, she couldn't help noticing that Jack kept glancing over his shoulder at their guest, a hint of a concern creasing his brow. Working her way carefully around the various sharp protrusions Donna arrived at Jack's side of the console (the Doctor was currently flying from lever to lever and dial to dial and had butted her out of the way twice already).
“What's going on?” Her murmured words wouldn't carry over the noise the TARDIS was making as she hunted between dimensions for the way home. “Did you mess up? Did he mess up?” The worry was starting to pool in her stomach now. “Jack, I swear if there's trouble and you don't tell me I'll be forced to remove something that you won't be able to grow back.”
“Donna.” A distracted glance accompanied the reproof. “You imagine too much.”
“Do you blame me?” Her hissed whisper drew the attention of Captain Perks and they both smiled reassuringly before returning to their pretence of helping. “Some idiot decides that wiping my mind is the only way to solve a relatively minor problem, a whole GROUP of other idiots just stand back and allow him to get on with it and if it hadn't been for the efforts of one person who shall remain nameless in this place I'd still be drooling in front of Britain's Got Talent!”
“How is Sarah Jane anyway?”
“Will you shut up!” It was his turn to receive the glare. “He still doesn't know and I'm letting him believe that it just started all by itself with Torchwood forced to step in to avoid a greater scandal.”
“You're still covering for us?”
“Not for you.” She frowned at his obvious pleasure at the thought of her lying for him. “You and your bunch of incompetents should be able to handle any official backlash by now, but Martha and Tom don't deserve that kind of trouble. Aside from everything she did officially they put me up when even I didn't really know who I was and I'm not going to turn them in for that. Besides Tom makes the most heavenly Mojito and I couldn't bear to be denied those for the rest of my life.”
“Donna Noble. You're something else, you know that right?” He smiled and she smiled back, able at last to receive the compliment gracefully rather than look beneath for the sting hidden in the honey.
Their moment of harmony didn't last and the next few minutes were rather uncomfortable as the TARDIS found a faint trail and began to hoist herself back across the dimensions, getting herself across the rough terrain the best that she was able. Donna didn't have time to do more than cast a quick glance in the direction of Captain Perks and nod approvingly at the woman's sturdy grip on the guard rails as they tossed and jumbled their way across the equations.
“Aaaaand we're done.”
The Doctor took his hands off, twiddled a last few dials and patting the console settled back against it, his attention once again given over to his passengers.
“We're here?” Captain Perks stepped forward, a faint look of hope on her face.
“No, we'll be a while yet. But she's into the Vortex and she can fly herself from her. She knows where she's going now. You left quite a trail” he added, glaring at Jack. The annoyance was already tightening his shoulders.
Donna released the very important lever she always got left with and stretched her fingers. It looked like they would be some time. Her wrists cracked and as she rubbed them she couldn't help but recall the flicker of pain that had crossed their guest's face when she had stretched and cracked her shoulders. Donna had an idea.
“I don't think Captain Perks wants to spend the whole journey perched on these cold gratings. I'm going to take our visitor somewhere more comfortable if that's OK with you boys.” She turned to their guest with an encouraging smile.
Polly acquiesced willingly enough. Her carefully blank expression still hadn't yet slipped and she didn't even give the strange centre console more than a passing glance as she squeezed past to follow Donna.
“Show her everything! Let her see exactly how bigger it is on the inside!” Bless him, the Doctor didn't quickly forget any perceived slight to his beloved method of transportation. Satisfied that his guest would soon be converted to the true way he turned to Jack with an ominous “Now. You.”
Turning her back on them Donna left the skinny idiot to test his impotent scolding skills against that unapologetic solidity leant her weight on the hatch leading into the main living area. As the door swung shut behind them the quiet of the TARDIS reached out to them and Donna felt the woman relax.
“We'll just do the essentials so you can tell him when he asks that you've seen the best bits and then I vote for a cup of tea. That sound good?” Polly nodded, more than willing to be a co-conspirator against her host.
Thus encouraged Donna continued with the tour guide schpeil, touching on the infinite internal dimension possibilities. “Through here is the main the living area including the rooms we use day to day. However, I have to warn you that they do move about a little. Bless her, the TARDIS does have a sense of mischief about these things and as his Lordship is loathe to bring her to task about it we just have to make do.” As she waited for Captain Perks to slip through the door she was currently holding open Donna wondered where the ornamental garden had got to today. It was then that she remembered where she'd seen the tight lines on Polly's face before. He got it sometimes when he was reading the ancient books in the library, an exhaustion almost too heavy to bear. She'd come in a couple of times to find him wrapped in a tired sorrow, drowning in memories that bore down too heavily on him.
“Donna?”
Donna turned and saw the question in her eyes. Everyone reacted differently to their first time, Donna had seen awe, confusion, denial (though you couldn't deny the existence of something as annoying as a timelord for long, heavens knew she'd tried), and in one case house-proud disgust. But Captain Perks, up till now unfazed by the flexible dimensions of the TARDIS, surprised her.
“Does he mean what he said? That he can get me to... to where I need to go?” She addressed Donna as the one sane voice in an confusing madhouse.
“There and back again before anyone even notices you're gone.” But her words didn't reassure as much as she'd thought they would.
“Exactly the same time?”
Donna nodded.
“So when we get back it'll still be the night before the 1st of July. Still Friday?”
Donna nodded again. She wasn't sure exactly what day it was in TARDIS time, but it was a good bet that if it had been Friday when Captain Perks had left it would be Friday when she got back. The Doctor seemed able to control the TARDIS with regard to everyone’s time-line except her own.
“And stuff that's going to happen, still has to happen.” Polly reached into her collar to wrap thin fingers around a talisman that hung there. Against the quiet noises of the TARDIS steering them across the dimensions her voice ached with painful realisation.
“Yes.” Donna couldn't help but wonder what the morrow offered this woman as Captain Perk's mask settled even more firmly into place. Lines traced well worn paths as the woman drew in on herself and eyes designed to sparkle with laughter retired behind dull shields. Donna was loath to breach those walls but she had to ask.
“Is there something we can do?”
“What? No, it's nothing. I'm just tired. Your friend landed on the foot of my pallet in the middle of the night you see. Disturbed my sleep rather.” She tried to fake a yawn but was caught halfway through by a real one that threatened to crack her jaw. She stumbled, her exhaustion betraying that there was at least some truth in her words and Donna sat down casually in a nearby alcove seat that hadn't been there yesterday. The captain fell into it beside her gratefully, resting a heavy head back against the fabric covered wall.
“Sleep... it seems such a simple word. To sleep, perchance to dream...” Polly was talking to herself and Donna had to strain to hear the low voice. “...It all started with Mal. They dream so vividly, vampires. Everything so real... touch, taste, smell. I was there - we didn't mean to, but when you sleep so close things can leak out. And then it spread to my dreams too, which was weird and if you've ever had a running commentary on the bizarre aspects of your dreams by a supercilious vampire you'll know what I mean.” A faint reminiscent smile drifted across her features before vanishing and leaving only the tired lines in its place as she opened her eyes to meet Donna's sympathetic gaze. “Since Dobrudzha it's been hard to tell waking from dreaming any more. The nightmares are all real now and real life seems nothing more than a dream.”
“I'm sorry.” It sounded so inadequate.
Polly produced an encouraging smile that didn't reach her eyes. “It's only a small squabble between two minuscule countries that you would hardly be able to pick out on a map. It doesn't really matter. Besides we're going to win, everyone says so.” She drew up a knee and clasped it in thin arms. The talisman, released from the confines of her shirt swung out to glint in the soft light. The icon etched there wasn't anything Donna could recognise, a female figure holding something aloft but the metal was possibly even more interesting. It shone, the only thing remotely clean about her person.
Polly licked her thumb and rubbed at a speck of dirt on her boots. All her attention seemed focussed on that one spot. Her thumb moved slower and slower and and she suddenly heaved a great sigh. “Do you know, I forgot to bring her boots. It was night. We were... everyone was sleeping. Mal loved those boots.” She stopped, hugging her knees tightly as though the thought of an army lieutenant out there without boots simply too much to bear. “She's not even got her jacket.”
“Torchwood are good folk, no matter what impression you might get from Jack. They'll take good care of her, I promise.” Donna felt the urge to reach out and comfort this isolated figure. Thinking quickly she added “besides, if there's one thing the TARDIS is fond of hoarding it's clothes, I'm sure we can find enough around here somewhere to outfit the both of you.”
“Do you have shirts with ruffles?” Captain Perks was keeping her head down, the lank hair falling forward to hide her face. “Mal likes ruffles, especially around the cuffs. We've been suffering the most terrible ruffle shortage for almost a year now. It's disgraceful, Mal says.” Her voice, which had been trembling at the start grew stronger as she went on. “We were eventually reduced to sending harshly worded missives to the powers that be, but as yet we've had no reply. It's devastating for morale amongst the lower ranks. As Mal explained in the letter, an officer without properly ruffled sleeves simply can't inspire the men.”
Donna couldn't help it. She chuckled at the image Polly's words produced prompting a shaky laugh from behind that shield of hair. Hopeful that the unsteady land had been navigated safely Donna continued rambling.
“I'm sure the TARDIS has enough ruffled shirts to satisfy even the most discerning of dressers. She does tend to lean towards the more “artistic” style of dress and will probably enjoy finding something for your friend.”
“You talk about the ship as though she's real.” Captain Perks stood a little straighter, tucking the wayward strands of hair back behind a grubby ear.
“She is.” Donna smiled affectionately as she smoothed the wall of the passageway with her hand. “The Timelords, his people, made sentient ships back in the day. She has all the control, all the power. It's the TARDIS that moves us through the time vortex and the time vortex through us. The Doctor can only ask nicely and hope.”
Donna had never told the Doctor that she'd kept memories from the meta-crisis but faint though they were she would never forget the raw loss of that vanished war they'd shared in that short time. Living his past like that, if only for a moment she was able at last to understand his quiet withdrawal, to recognise that the exuberant face he presented to the world would never be everything he was. They'd grown closer since she'd clawed her way back aboard and they'd finally sorted out the repercussions from the whole “wiping your memories” thing. Yes he loved to travel, yes the excitement of new places and new situations thrilled him anew every-time he opened that scruffy blue door. But now he allowed her to see the other times as well. The times when the weight of being the last hung heavy on him. The times when the knowledge of the decision he'd made ate away at him from within and no reasoning could ease his guilt. She'd never been able to get him to talk about it but she had found a quiet smile and a cup of tea when he'd sat in the dark over-long with the book open and unread on his lap helped a little.
There was at least one thing she could do for Polly and Donna turned to her guest with an encouraging smile on her face as she indicated the corridor that seemed to stretch on to infinity from where they stood.
“She wants me to show you something else.”
Polly stood up, rubbing a discrete back of a hand over her face. “Lead on Donna Noble. Let's not keep the sentient carriage that keeps us safe waiting.”
~X~
“This is my bedroom.”
“Right.” Polly smiled a private smile. “This is what the TARDIS wanted you to show me?”
“Not quite.” She crossed the room. “This is my bathroom.” She swung wide the door and heard Captain Perk's longing intake of breath.
“It's so big...” The woman hovered in the doorway, afraid that if she came in the entire room would vanish under her feet.
“The TARDIS provides,” Donna explained with a smile. “The shower came as standard but I asked for the bath after some unpleasant encounters with the Polydora ligni. They live underground as their sun is deadly in large doses. It took about six dunkings for the last of the smell to go.”
“You have a bath.” It was a hushed whisper such as one might use in church and Polly stepped around the deep fluffy rug to run a covetous finger along the lip of porcelain. “We haven't seen hide nor hair of a bath on the line for months. A cup of cold groundwater and a cloth just aren't the same.”
Taking in the entranced look on her face Donna sent a quick message of thanks to the ship for providing the fresh towels. No woman deserved to have to feel like that about something as simple as washing. She sat on the edge of the item in question and reached out to cover those longing fingers with her own, cleaner digits.
“Let me run you a bath. It won't take long, this old tub fills up incredibly quickly and we've got no problem with hot water.”
“I couldn't.” Polly drew back but Donna wouldn't let go and tethered by the hand the captain could only dither gently at arms length.
“I couldn't send you back out there without one.” Donna stated matter of fact, tactfully ignoring the shamed bush that tinged the pale cheeks under the lashes of downcast eyes. “Admit it, you'll feel so much better after a good long soak, or even a quick splash. I'll lend you some clothes while we get yours clean.”
“You really wouldn't mind?”
“I really wouldn't mind.” She had begun to run the bath as she spoke, her fingers dancing amongst the collection of bath oils and soothing unguents before selecting a precious bottle. “This one is my favourite find.” She smiled reminiscently at the bottle. “No day ever seems so bad when you're lying in a bath of this.” She poured in a hefty dollop and then another. Getting no result she sniffed cautiously at the bottle and then squinting down inside she muttered something derogatory, upended it and thumped it hard on the bottom until a single drop inched out to land in the water below. A wonderful smell blossomed out of the swirling water, reminiscent of lazy Sunday mornings, fresh coffee and for some reason honeysuckle.
Polly gasped and glancing up Donna caught such an expression of grief on her face that she turned away quickly to avoid invading her privacy further. The bath was run and she stood up to leave. As she had her hand on the door she said without turning back, “throw your clothes out and I'll stick them in the wash. Do they need any special settings? The TARDIS can wash pretty much anything.”
Behind her she heard Polly's rusty laugh, short and quickly dying as though she'd not used it in ages. “I don't think anything can harm these any further. They'll probably fall apart as soon as they touch water, I think it's only the dirt holding them together at the moment.”
“The TARDIS will come up with something I'm sure. I'll leave you to it then.” Donna turned back at last to see Polly still stood against the sink, her arms folded defensively across her chest. “I'll come back in a few minutes and pick up the stuff from outside the door. The towels on top of the cabinet are fresh, clean robe on the back of the door. Enjoy your bath.” She smiled and backed out, pulling the door closed behind her.
Left behind in the quiet Polly stayed standing against the sink for a moment, watching the aromatic steam rising from the water. Then slowly crossing the floor as though drawn by an irresistible force she drifted up against the edge of the bath and halted, gently dipping the tip of a single finger into the water. she stood like that for a long moment, a single finger dragging patterns in the left over swirls from when the bath had been filled. Then she straightened sensibly, crossed to the indicated cabinet and selected some towels. She brought them over to the bath and after searching around for a moment placed them on the handy little towel rack she found placed at the head of the bath. She seemed confused as to what to do next and glanced around as though inspiration might be found in the toothbrush standing beside the sink.
Eventually she sat on the rim of the bath and pulled off her boots and socks. Standing them up on one side of the colourful rug she rested for a moment, curling her toes in the deep pile under her feet. The jacket was next, eased down over stiff shoulders and dropped in a heap. She gazed it it lying there for a while and then slowly her hand moved to the buttons on her shirt and she fumblingly undid enough to allow her to pull the ragged garment off over her head. She pulled the tails of her under-shirt out of her tattered breeches but then paused, unable to go any further. In the silence that rang loud against the muffled noises seeping in from the outer room a faint sniff could be heard and the thin figure perched on the edge of the bath knuckled at unaccountably damp eyes.
On the other side of the door Donna looked around the mess that was her room and sighed. It was undeniably a tip and she could hear her mother's scolding tones in the back of her mind even as she began to fold the more readily available garments. She could never understand why it was that her room always ended up in this condition. They'd been busy yes, but that wasn't really a good enough reason for why she had a pile of pine-cones beside the bed from Borealis. Muttering to herself whilst straightening the objects on her dressing table (an origami jumping frog? Really?) Donna knew the undercurrent of her mood wasn't just because of the state of her room, but linked intrinsically to the woebegone figure she'd left in her bathroom. But the TARDIS whispered reassurance into the back of her mind and she slipped into the massive walk in wardrobe to hang up some of the most crumpled items.
Polly, warmed by the rising steam at her back, drew herself together on a trembling breath and hauled the under-shirt over her head in one swift motion dropping it onto the pile with the others. This hurdle overcome it was only a moment to undo her breeches, slide them down over thin flanks and step out of the tattered remains. Those breeches had once been her pride and joy, a gift in tailoring that clung in all the right places and brought a sparkle to Mal's eye whenever Polly paraded in them. Now they hung loose about her figure and it was only thanks to the braces that they held up at all. Her under-shorts had long ago gone to a better place (three better places if you counted the pair that she'd donated for bandages) and so it was in her own scrawny skin that she gathered the small pathetic pile of together to drop outside the door. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror surprised by her hip bones and ribs and the betraying tracks of tears that lay on her cheeks. Standing there with her entire worldly possessions clasped in both arms she felt again the hot sting of moisture behind her eyes but managed to hold the emotion at a distance until she'd dropped her burden and closed the door again against the outside world.
Standing silently behind the door she heard Donna come back in to pick up her tattered belongings and a moment later the faint sound of the bedroom door closing. Finally alone she stepped away from the door, her tightly held shoulders drooping a little in the steam. The water called to her and Polly could resist it no longer as stepping over the rim she slid gratefully into its welcoming embrace. She surrendered then, permitting the tears to come at last and wept silently into her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her shins.
~X~
End of Part One (part two posted tomorrow - or tonight if I can get down and back from the shops in time).
Pairings: Discworld: Polly/Mal - established relationship, Doctor Who: None.
Warnings: This oddity of a tale takes place before “Children of Earth” because I started writing it not too long after “Journey’s End” and then it died a death. I STILL haven’t seen “Children of Earth” yet because I'm a easily distractable fool. Otherwise nothing really, but it is crack!fic so insanity and forced Narativium inhalation do occur. Oh, and mild swearing.
Disclaimer: Author owns nothing and does not intend to profit from the work. Characters from Monstrous Regiment belong to Terry Pratchett and those from Torchwood/Doctor Who belong to the BBC, who can have my as yet unborn children upon request.
Sing it if you know the words: It's just a jump to the left. A little step to the right. With your hands on your hips, and your knees in tight...
~X~
Take The Second Star On The Right And Straight On Till Morning...
They were travelling quite peacefully towards Nononanette[1] when it happened. Of course Donna would have to admit her definition of “quite peacefully” had expanded since she'd met the Doctor to include bumps, jolts and the occasional detour to the Jurassic period. However, to all intents and purposes the TARDIS (and therefore the Doctor) had not a care in the world. He was even humming cheerfully under his breath, some 29th century ditty about flying across the stars if she was any judge. It was still a disappointment to the latest companion that songwriters hadn't altered across the ages. Mind you, she thought charitably as he ventured into the eighth verse, there weren't really that many things you could rhyme with moon.
Donna (Noble, best temp in Chiswick, 100 words a minute and as worthy of respect as any skinny spaceman she'd thank you not to forget it) sat there on that inauspicious morning, watching the Doctor fiddle with his beloved TARDIS and letting her mind wander where it willed. She had just decided that they should move the exceedingly anatomically correct sculpture out of the library to make way for the painting she'd picked up at pSotherbys when an annoying alarm began to blare. The TARDIS shuddered like an ocean liner coming into contact with a rude and persistent iceberg. They fell out of the time vortex and away across space, spinning gently in an unpleasant fashion that threatened to re-introduce Donna to her last meal. She held on, swallowing spasmodically as the Doctor rushed around, pushing buttons and hauling on levers until at last it seemed seemed they had levelled out. There was a worrying grinding noise coming from somewhere overhead, but as it didn't seem to bother him much she let it go for another time. Another time that was when her breakfast wasn't trying to leave her body through her nose.
There was a shaky period of silence. Donna took a cautiously careful breath. Nothing happened. She took another and then, having decided that her stomach would obey her rather than the other way around, she gathered enough air to say “what the hell was that?”
He didn't reply being too busy fighting a persistent steam leak to acknowledge her. Donna took the opportunity to cast an eye over the controls. A screen was bleeping. The warning swirls displayed weren't ones that she recognised despite their recent “interesting” adventures. There seemed to be some kind of interference affecting the display, the spirals stuttering in interrupted loops. At least it wasn't the one that sounded like a kitten crying. That (and its connected outcome) had haunted her dreams for a while.
“Oh no. Not again!” The Doctor, glancing over her shoulder at the cryptic swirls swore in Galifreyian under his breath and yanked on the closest lever. Everything went abruptly sideways. By the feel of it he had just pulled the TARDIS into a U-turn. Donna grabbed on and once again made a mental note to buy the boy racer a “How's My Driving” sticker. It would serve the idiot right to get phone calls from the 32nd century about his lack of overtaking skills.
The Doctor was clambering from console to console around the central column, pushing buttons furiously. Donna only just caught the muttered “what is he doing here?” as she swung past, her hold proving less secure than previously indicated. But when she shouted “who?!” over the ear shattering racket the Doctor only ignored her. Before she had a chance to take issue with his secrecy they landed. As a veteran of planetside arrivals by now (both bad and good) Donna classified this one as a squelch. A solid earthy sort of squelch. Not desert or ocean then. She didn't let go immediately. Planets could be tricky, especially with regard to spaceships and un-cushioned landings. She'd never known a planet could hold a grudge until that time on Morosus. Mind you, she hadn't known a planet could shrug either and the resulting seismic shudder that had knocked them off into space had been very educational in any number of fields.
“Where are we?” She had asked mere as a conversational opener, preparing the way for the more difficult questions to come but the Doctor continued to ignore her input completely.
“Stay inside Donna” he ordered breathlessly and snatched up his coat as he hurried round the console. Fighting with an obstinate sleeve he attempted to turn on the security systems with one foot at the same time.
“Now hang on a minute.” She grabbed his arm as he passed. “You can't tell me where we are, you won't enlighten me as to what that insane bleeping noise is and you won't let me come with you? Hold your Pegasi, Spaceboy! Donna Noble is nobody's stay-at-home, twisted-ankle, scream-and-fall-over sidekick!”
He sighed frustratedly. “I can't tell you where we are because I don't know.”
Oh.” She let go of his arm. “And all the clever machines with maps and incomprehensible swirly writing?”
“Are saying things that are completely impossible.”
“Really?” She looked from him to the flashing screens.
“Donna. I'm not messing about, I promise. The TARDIS is worried. Please, just listen to me this time, ok?”
“And you're just going to go out there. Into whatever it is. Without knowing a single thing about what might be waiting.”
“Oh yes!” The grin split his face into a million excited wrinkles and faced with such enthusiasm she could only sigh and shake her head.
Taking her lack of protest as permission granted, the Doctor opened the outer door a crack and stuck his head out to survey the immediate surroundings. Unfortunately this intelligence gathering sortie was foiled by impenetrable darkness and Donna, craning over his shoulder took in the nothing quickly. Another cellar, cavern or sealed storeroom then. She felt the movement as unconsciously he reached for his sonic screwdriver, and smiled. It was virtually hopeless as a defensive weapon (the list of things it couldn't do that hung on her wardrobe door was lengthy) but he still felt better with it in his hand. He fiddled with it for a moment, running through the settings. Ignoring him Donna kept scanning the small sliver of nothing she could see and as her eyes adjusted to the gloom she realised they'd merely landed during the hours of darkness. Up above the faint twinkling of unfamiliar stars showed here and there through the clouds.
Squinting up she leant too far out and was brought back to earth by the Doctors insistent arm across her chest pushing her back inside. Drawing back for an essential second to shoot her a repressive look he reiterated his command for her to stay put and slipped through the door. Slipped being quite the apposite word as he almost immediately lost his footing on the muddy ground. Windmilling his arms, he wavered for a moment before catching his balance again. She grinned but wiped the amusement from her face when he glanced back. His emphatic gesture was very clear and reluctantly she obeyed and closed the door. It locked automatically behind her but by then she was already halfway across the console room and scrambling around to the one screen that displayed the feed coming in from the outside world. She'd been impressed when he'd first shown her that (a time machine with CCTV!) but it had quickly become just another tool. As she watched the vague figure on the screen took a cautious step, testing the ground. Finding a solid spot he stood for a moment, probably stretching his back and allowing his eyes to further adjust to the darkness as he cast about for any sign of life. He appeared to be an open area that ran away from him in all directions until it vanished into the gloom. There was a low mound over to his left that looked like it held some potential and as she watched he turned carefully, keeping his footing with difficulty. Facing the right direction at last he raised a hand to his eyes, squinting into the darkness, trying to make out any signs of life. It was at this auspicious moment that something shot out of nowhere and tackling him around the knees brought him to the ground with a bump.
Actually, Donna thought randomly as the two figures struggled together, it was probably more of a squelch - what with the ground conditions. The next moments were rather confusing with figures boiling out of nowhere but when the screen cleared it was to show a stage empty of anyone. The Doctor had gone.
[1] Sand, sea, sun and possible coup d'etat involving cockroaches[2].
[2] Don't ask.
~X~
Donna had been forced to stop pacing as she had quickly discovered it was disturbing the TARDIS. She'd settled for an uncomfortable perch on the edge of the padded seat instead. The screens were still showing their cryptic warnings, all but one which presented nothing but dark murk since the Doctor had been dragged out of sight. They could have been doing anything to him. She reached out to retune the signal for the 14th time.
“Great.” Donna stared at the grainy picture but could make out nothing more than a vague bump off to the left. “All the technology in the world and he can't get a better resolution than this” she grumbled. The screen flickered and went blank. In the midst of apologising to the TARDIS (something she had stopped feeling foolish about doing a good six months back) she found the lose connection and with a precisely targeted thump got the thing working again. She could just make out three vague forms moving in her general direction. The middle one couldn't be anyone other than the Doctor and though the picture was indistinct it appeared he still had all his arms and legs attached.
“Not Daleks then” she joked patting the console under her hand and felt an answering sense of relief from the TARDIS. Donna was just leaning in to squint at the strangely familiar figure on the left when all three vanished from view and she heard the Doctor's key in the door.
“Here we are!” He bustled in cheerfully holding wide the door. “Come along in, we'll have your Lieutenant back in two shakes of a lambs tail.”
“You’re sure we can get there and back in time?” He'd found a woman anyway. Typical. Only been on the planet a quarter of an hour and already got a woman interested in his TARDIS. Donna sighed. She couldn't take him anywhere. This one at least seemed polite and considerate, Donna could hear her scraping the mud from her shoes before entering.
“I did explain about having to find the right narrative dimension?” Donna's mind threw up an image of a competent woman of mature years who wouldn't suffer fools gladly.
“Oh yes, she can do it.” The Doctor was bouncing in anticipation. Poor Doctor. Poor foolish Doctor.
“She?” The owner of the voice stepped over the threshold at last.
Donna frowned. She was shorter than her voice indicated, younger as well though deep lines etched into a tired face thwarted any attempts to guess her age. She walked straight-backed, her head held high and wore her uniform authority that belied her years. However, innate dignity (even in bucket-loads such as she had it) couldn't disguise the tattered state of her filthy breeches and sometime green jacket or the ingrained dirt that had invaded every centimetre of exposed skin. Feeling the gaze on her their guest drew herself up taller, straightening a crumpled collar and pulling down the tails of her jacket. There were faded stripes of rank on the sleeve of that jacket, possibly shiny gold braid at one time, sewn on with pride, sewn tightly to outlast all circumstances. Now only the bedraggled evidence remained, dangling untidily, torn out in some dark and desperate struggle. Donna shook her head, banishing the images that invaded her mind, the stumbling feet, the panting breath, the confinement of the tunnel - dank walls closing in, no room to draw a sword. She shut the door on them firmly as she'd been so carefully taught and cast a quick worried eye at the Doctor. Whatever was going on out there didn't seem to have affected him. He was talking again, more interested in showing off his treasure than any psychic disturbance.
“The TARDIS!” He gestured expansively. “Time And Relative Dimension In Space!”
Rotating on the spot their guest gazed up and around, taking in the majesty. “Nice”
“It is bigger on the inside you know.” He seemed somewhat slighted and the third member of the party, following on behind, chuckled to himself. Donna had been all ready to give the Doctor a piece of her mind for getting kidnapped and ruining his suit but the words fled when she saw who was accompanying him.
“Jack!” She ran forward, all thoughts of their guest drowned in the joy of seeing him again.
“Donna!” The tall captain swept her off her feet, spinning her around as though she weighed no more than a feather before placing her gently back down. “How's my favourite red headed beauty? You managing to keep this perpetual loose cannon under control?”
“I try, I really do, but I'm not not sure I'm having any effect. Some days I swear he doesn't even hear a word I say.” She grinned, raising an eyebrow in the direction of the individual they were maligning.
“You poor thing.” Jack slipped a comforting arm around her. “You know that there's a place for you at Torchwood any time you feel the need to escape this drudgery.”
He moved his hand a little lower.
“Oi!” Donna slapped the hand away taking a step back and emphasising the space between them. “Very nice that would be with you attempting to cop a feel every five minutes and Ianto shooting me daggers across the rift and very likely poisoning my coffee the minute I turned my back.”
Jack looked hurt and was about to deny such scurrilous charges when she pinned him with a glare and he had to shrug and grudgingly admit she might be right. She came back to him for another hug, surreptitiously checking him for bruises scrapes or any other damages. There were ways to make even an immortal man uncomfortable. She knew this in great detail because he'd told her one night when her memory had still been flickeringly uncertain. He'd had too much to drink and thinking she'd never remember had sat on beside her, his quiet voice outlining ways and means, unable to stop once the floodgates were opened. She'd thought she wouldn't remember, had almost hoped it for the first time since the fingers of fire had rekindled her memories of that forgotten year. But she had remembered though she'd never told him that she did. Some secrets need to be told but only in the security of knowing that such things will never be mentioned again. He wasn't the only one, the others had shared things with her too, unburdening themselves as though at the confessional none would ever be able to approach again. She had listened and some she had remembered. But she had never, ever, told.
Releasing Jack at last Donna turned her attention back to the Doctor and the woman hovering nearby watching all this with accepting but tired eyes. Now they were only a few feet apart Donna could see the dark circles that smudged over thin cheeks and the general air of exhaustion that clung around the woman. As though reading her thoughts the woman stretched, sticking two fists into her back and rotating out her shoulders. The cracking noises that ensued brought answering winces from Jack and the Doctor and their torturer smiled apologetically as she massaged the back of her neck.
“Sorry, sleeping on the floor may be good for the back, but it plays merry hell with my neck. Always takes a while to loosen up in the morning.”
Left to break the awkward silence Donna came forward, a friendly smile expanding across her face and her hand outstretched. “Welcome aboard.” She glanced at the Doctor for introductions but he stared back at her blank-faced causing her to roll her eyes in exasperation. It was Jack that stepped forward instead.
“Donna, this is Captain Perks, Light Infantry. Captain Perks this is Donna Noble, faithful companion to that idiot over there and fabulous individual in her own right.”
“Polly” said the introduced Captain Perks and shook hands. The Doctor, determined not to be entirely ignored pushed Donna aside to shake Polly's hand as well, somewhat tardily adding his voice to the welcome. Over his shoulder Donna acknowledged Captain Perk's amused glance of apology with a resigned shrug of her own. Their visitor had worked the Doctor out remarkably quickly and Donna couldn't help but look forward to her further acquaintance. She opened her mouth the say something polite and conversational but the Doctor, his ability to stand still exhausted, was already bouncing back to the console, eagerly flicking switches and spinning dials.
“Let's get started shall we?” He pulled down a long lever, frowned as it grated against something unseen and then swung his full weight on it to force it into position.
Donna shook her head, collected Captain Perks and brought her up to the centre console. She smiled reassuringly and indicating the padded areas advised her to hold onto something. The incorrigible Jack stepped forward to offer his services but was politely and firmly turned down. He acquiesced with good grace piquing Donna's interest as to what exactly had gone on before the Doctor had snatched him away.
Captain Perks watched the frantic goings on, a pillar of calm in the centre of the storm, not asking questions or distracting the Doctor at vital moments as some visitors were prone to do. She seemed perfectly happy to stay out of the way, balancing herself against the jolts and sways with her feet firmly planted on the gratings. Suppressing her intrinsic nosiness Donna dragged her eyes away from that silent figure. However, she couldn't help noticing that Jack kept glancing over his shoulder at their guest, a hint of a concern creasing his brow. Working her way carefully around the various sharp protrusions Donna arrived at Jack's side of the console (the Doctor was currently flying from lever to lever and dial to dial and had butted her out of the way twice already).
“What's going on?” Her murmured words wouldn't carry over the noise the TARDIS was making as she hunted between dimensions for the way home. “Did you mess up? Did he mess up?” The worry was starting to pool in her stomach now. “Jack, I swear if there's trouble and you don't tell me I'll be forced to remove something that you won't be able to grow back.”
“Donna.” A distracted glance accompanied the reproof. “You imagine too much.”
“Do you blame me?” Her hissed whisper drew the attention of Captain Perks and they both smiled reassuringly before returning to their pretence of helping. “Some idiot decides that wiping my mind is the only way to solve a relatively minor problem, a whole GROUP of other idiots just stand back and allow him to get on with it and if it hadn't been for the efforts of one person who shall remain nameless in this place I'd still be drooling in front of Britain's Got Talent!”
“How is Sarah Jane anyway?”
“Will you shut up!” It was his turn to receive the glare. “He still doesn't know and I'm letting him believe that it just started all by itself with Torchwood forced to step in to avoid a greater scandal.”
“You're still covering for us?”
“Not for you.” She frowned at his obvious pleasure at the thought of her lying for him. “You and your bunch of incompetents should be able to handle any official backlash by now, but Martha and Tom don't deserve that kind of trouble. Aside from everything she did officially they put me up when even I didn't really know who I was and I'm not going to turn them in for that. Besides Tom makes the most heavenly Mojito and I couldn't bear to be denied those for the rest of my life.”
“Donna Noble. You're something else, you know that right?” He smiled and she smiled back, able at last to receive the compliment gracefully rather than look beneath for the sting hidden in the honey.
Their moment of harmony didn't last and the next few minutes were rather uncomfortable as the TARDIS found a faint trail and began to hoist herself back across the dimensions, getting herself across the rough terrain the best that she was able. Donna didn't have time to do more than cast a quick glance in the direction of Captain Perks and nod approvingly at the woman's sturdy grip on the guard rails as they tossed and jumbled their way across the equations.
“Aaaaand we're done.”
The Doctor took his hands off, twiddled a last few dials and patting the console settled back against it, his attention once again given over to his passengers.
“We're here?” Captain Perks stepped forward, a faint look of hope on her face.
“No, we'll be a while yet. But she's into the Vortex and she can fly herself from her. She knows where she's going now. You left quite a trail” he added, glaring at Jack. The annoyance was already tightening his shoulders.
Donna released the very important lever she always got left with and stretched her fingers. It looked like they would be some time. Her wrists cracked and as she rubbed them she couldn't help but recall the flicker of pain that had crossed their guest's face when she had stretched and cracked her shoulders. Donna had an idea.
“I don't think Captain Perks wants to spend the whole journey perched on these cold gratings. I'm going to take our visitor somewhere more comfortable if that's OK with you boys.” She turned to their guest with an encouraging smile.
Polly acquiesced willingly enough. Her carefully blank expression still hadn't yet slipped and she didn't even give the strange centre console more than a passing glance as she squeezed past to follow Donna.
“Show her everything! Let her see exactly how bigger it is on the inside!” Bless him, the Doctor didn't quickly forget any perceived slight to his beloved method of transportation. Satisfied that his guest would soon be converted to the true way he turned to Jack with an ominous “Now. You.”
Turning her back on them Donna left the skinny idiot to test his impotent scolding skills against that unapologetic solidity leant her weight on the hatch leading into the main living area. As the door swung shut behind them the quiet of the TARDIS reached out to them and Donna felt the woman relax.
“We'll just do the essentials so you can tell him when he asks that you've seen the best bits and then I vote for a cup of tea. That sound good?” Polly nodded, more than willing to be a co-conspirator against her host.
Thus encouraged Donna continued with the tour guide schpeil, touching on the infinite internal dimension possibilities. “Through here is the main the living area including the rooms we use day to day. However, I have to warn you that they do move about a little. Bless her, the TARDIS does have a sense of mischief about these things and as his Lordship is loathe to bring her to task about it we just have to make do.” As she waited for Captain Perks to slip through the door she was currently holding open Donna wondered where the ornamental garden had got to today. It was then that she remembered where she'd seen the tight lines on Polly's face before. He got it sometimes when he was reading the ancient books in the library, an exhaustion almost too heavy to bear. She'd come in a couple of times to find him wrapped in a tired sorrow, drowning in memories that bore down too heavily on him.
“Donna?”
Donna turned and saw the question in her eyes. Everyone reacted differently to their first time, Donna had seen awe, confusion, denial (though you couldn't deny the existence of something as annoying as a timelord for long, heavens knew she'd tried), and in one case house-proud disgust. But Captain Perks, up till now unfazed by the flexible dimensions of the TARDIS, surprised her.
“Does he mean what he said? That he can get me to... to where I need to go?” She addressed Donna as the one sane voice in an confusing madhouse.
“There and back again before anyone even notices you're gone.” But her words didn't reassure as much as she'd thought they would.
“Exactly the same time?”
Donna nodded.
“So when we get back it'll still be the night before the 1st of July. Still Friday?”
Donna nodded again. She wasn't sure exactly what day it was in TARDIS time, but it was a good bet that if it had been Friday when Captain Perks had left it would be Friday when she got back. The Doctor seemed able to control the TARDIS with regard to everyone’s time-line except her own.
“And stuff that's going to happen, still has to happen.” Polly reached into her collar to wrap thin fingers around a talisman that hung there. Against the quiet noises of the TARDIS steering them across the dimensions her voice ached with painful realisation.
“Yes.” Donna couldn't help but wonder what the morrow offered this woman as Captain Perk's mask settled even more firmly into place. Lines traced well worn paths as the woman drew in on herself and eyes designed to sparkle with laughter retired behind dull shields. Donna was loath to breach those walls but she had to ask.
“Is there something we can do?”
“What? No, it's nothing. I'm just tired. Your friend landed on the foot of my pallet in the middle of the night you see. Disturbed my sleep rather.” She tried to fake a yawn but was caught halfway through by a real one that threatened to crack her jaw. She stumbled, her exhaustion betraying that there was at least some truth in her words and Donna sat down casually in a nearby alcove seat that hadn't been there yesterday. The captain fell into it beside her gratefully, resting a heavy head back against the fabric covered wall.
“Sleep... it seems such a simple word. To sleep, perchance to dream...” Polly was talking to herself and Donna had to strain to hear the low voice. “...It all started with Mal. They dream so vividly, vampires. Everything so real... touch, taste, smell. I was there - we didn't mean to, but when you sleep so close things can leak out. And then it spread to my dreams too, which was weird and if you've ever had a running commentary on the bizarre aspects of your dreams by a supercilious vampire you'll know what I mean.” A faint reminiscent smile drifted across her features before vanishing and leaving only the tired lines in its place as she opened her eyes to meet Donna's sympathetic gaze. “Since Dobrudzha it's been hard to tell waking from dreaming any more. The nightmares are all real now and real life seems nothing more than a dream.”
“I'm sorry.” It sounded so inadequate.
Polly produced an encouraging smile that didn't reach her eyes. “It's only a small squabble between two minuscule countries that you would hardly be able to pick out on a map. It doesn't really matter. Besides we're going to win, everyone says so.” She drew up a knee and clasped it in thin arms. The talisman, released from the confines of her shirt swung out to glint in the soft light. The icon etched there wasn't anything Donna could recognise, a female figure holding something aloft but the metal was possibly even more interesting. It shone, the only thing remotely clean about her person.
Polly licked her thumb and rubbed at a speck of dirt on her boots. All her attention seemed focussed on that one spot. Her thumb moved slower and slower and and she suddenly heaved a great sigh. “Do you know, I forgot to bring her boots. It was night. We were... everyone was sleeping. Mal loved those boots.” She stopped, hugging her knees tightly as though the thought of an army lieutenant out there without boots simply too much to bear. “She's not even got her jacket.”
“Torchwood are good folk, no matter what impression you might get from Jack. They'll take good care of her, I promise.” Donna felt the urge to reach out and comfort this isolated figure. Thinking quickly she added “besides, if there's one thing the TARDIS is fond of hoarding it's clothes, I'm sure we can find enough around here somewhere to outfit the both of you.”
“Do you have shirts with ruffles?” Captain Perks was keeping her head down, the lank hair falling forward to hide her face. “Mal likes ruffles, especially around the cuffs. We've been suffering the most terrible ruffle shortage for almost a year now. It's disgraceful, Mal says.” Her voice, which had been trembling at the start grew stronger as she went on. “We were eventually reduced to sending harshly worded missives to the powers that be, but as yet we've had no reply. It's devastating for morale amongst the lower ranks. As Mal explained in the letter, an officer without properly ruffled sleeves simply can't inspire the men.”
Donna couldn't help it. She chuckled at the image Polly's words produced prompting a shaky laugh from behind that shield of hair. Hopeful that the unsteady land had been navigated safely Donna continued rambling.
“I'm sure the TARDIS has enough ruffled shirts to satisfy even the most discerning of dressers. She does tend to lean towards the more “artistic” style of dress and will probably enjoy finding something for your friend.”
“You talk about the ship as though she's real.” Captain Perks stood a little straighter, tucking the wayward strands of hair back behind a grubby ear.
“She is.” Donna smiled affectionately as she smoothed the wall of the passageway with her hand. “The Timelords, his people, made sentient ships back in the day. She has all the control, all the power. It's the TARDIS that moves us through the time vortex and the time vortex through us. The Doctor can only ask nicely and hope.”
Donna had never told the Doctor that she'd kept memories from the meta-crisis but faint though they were she would never forget the raw loss of that vanished war they'd shared in that short time. Living his past like that, if only for a moment she was able at last to understand his quiet withdrawal, to recognise that the exuberant face he presented to the world would never be everything he was. They'd grown closer since she'd clawed her way back aboard and they'd finally sorted out the repercussions from the whole “wiping your memories” thing. Yes he loved to travel, yes the excitement of new places and new situations thrilled him anew every-time he opened that scruffy blue door. But now he allowed her to see the other times as well. The times when the weight of being the last hung heavy on him. The times when the knowledge of the decision he'd made ate away at him from within and no reasoning could ease his guilt. She'd never been able to get him to talk about it but she had found a quiet smile and a cup of tea when he'd sat in the dark over-long with the book open and unread on his lap helped a little.
There was at least one thing she could do for Polly and Donna turned to her guest with an encouraging smile on her face as she indicated the corridor that seemed to stretch on to infinity from where they stood.
“She wants me to show you something else.”
Polly stood up, rubbing a discrete back of a hand over her face. “Lead on Donna Noble. Let's not keep the sentient carriage that keeps us safe waiting.”
~X~
“This is my bedroom.”
“Right.” Polly smiled a private smile. “This is what the TARDIS wanted you to show me?”
“Not quite.” She crossed the room. “This is my bathroom.” She swung wide the door and heard Captain Perk's longing intake of breath.
“It's so big...” The woman hovered in the doorway, afraid that if she came in the entire room would vanish under her feet.
“The TARDIS provides,” Donna explained with a smile. “The shower came as standard but I asked for the bath after some unpleasant encounters with the Polydora ligni. They live underground as their sun is deadly in large doses. It took about six dunkings for the last of the smell to go.”
“You have a bath.” It was a hushed whisper such as one might use in church and Polly stepped around the deep fluffy rug to run a covetous finger along the lip of porcelain. “We haven't seen hide nor hair of a bath on the line for months. A cup of cold groundwater and a cloth just aren't the same.”
Taking in the entranced look on her face Donna sent a quick message of thanks to the ship for providing the fresh towels. No woman deserved to have to feel like that about something as simple as washing. She sat on the edge of the item in question and reached out to cover those longing fingers with her own, cleaner digits.
“Let me run you a bath. It won't take long, this old tub fills up incredibly quickly and we've got no problem with hot water.”
“I couldn't.” Polly drew back but Donna wouldn't let go and tethered by the hand the captain could only dither gently at arms length.
“I couldn't send you back out there without one.” Donna stated matter of fact, tactfully ignoring the shamed bush that tinged the pale cheeks under the lashes of downcast eyes. “Admit it, you'll feel so much better after a good long soak, or even a quick splash. I'll lend you some clothes while we get yours clean.”
“You really wouldn't mind?”
“I really wouldn't mind.” She had begun to run the bath as she spoke, her fingers dancing amongst the collection of bath oils and soothing unguents before selecting a precious bottle. “This one is my favourite find.” She smiled reminiscently at the bottle. “No day ever seems so bad when you're lying in a bath of this.” She poured in a hefty dollop and then another. Getting no result she sniffed cautiously at the bottle and then squinting down inside she muttered something derogatory, upended it and thumped it hard on the bottom until a single drop inched out to land in the water below. A wonderful smell blossomed out of the swirling water, reminiscent of lazy Sunday mornings, fresh coffee and for some reason honeysuckle.
Polly gasped and glancing up Donna caught such an expression of grief on her face that she turned away quickly to avoid invading her privacy further. The bath was run and she stood up to leave. As she had her hand on the door she said without turning back, “throw your clothes out and I'll stick them in the wash. Do they need any special settings? The TARDIS can wash pretty much anything.”
Behind her she heard Polly's rusty laugh, short and quickly dying as though she'd not used it in ages. “I don't think anything can harm these any further. They'll probably fall apart as soon as they touch water, I think it's only the dirt holding them together at the moment.”
“The TARDIS will come up with something I'm sure. I'll leave you to it then.” Donna turned back at last to see Polly still stood against the sink, her arms folded defensively across her chest. “I'll come back in a few minutes and pick up the stuff from outside the door. The towels on top of the cabinet are fresh, clean robe on the back of the door. Enjoy your bath.” She smiled and backed out, pulling the door closed behind her.
Left behind in the quiet Polly stayed standing against the sink for a moment, watching the aromatic steam rising from the water. Then slowly crossing the floor as though drawn by an irresistible force she drifted up against the edge of the bath and halted, gently dipping the tip of a single finger into the water. she stood like that for a long moment, a single finger dragging patterns in the left over swirls from when the bath had been filled. Then she straightened sensibly, crossed to the indicated cabinet and selected some towels. She brought them over to the bath and after searching around for a moment placed them on the handy little towel rack she found placed at the head of the bath. She seemed confused as to what to do next and glanced around as though inspiration might be found in the toothbrush standing beside the sink.
Eventually she sat on the rim of the bath and pulled off her boots and socks. Standing them up on one side of the colourful rug she rested for a moment, curling her toes in the deep pile under her feet. The jacket was next, eased down over stiff shoulders and dropped in a heap. She gazed it it lying there for a while and then slowly her hand moved to the buttons on her shirt and she fumblingly undid enough to allow her to pull the ragged garment off over her head. She pulled the tails of her under-shirt out of her tattered breeches but then paused, unable to go any further. In the silence that rang loud against the muffled noises seeping in from the outer room a faint sniff could be heard and the thin figure perched on the edge of the bath knuckled at unaccountably damp eyes.
On the other side of the door Donna looked around the mess that was her room and sighed. It was undeniably a tip and she could hear her mother's scolding tones in the back of her mind even as she began to fold the more readily available garments. She could never understand why it was that her room always ended up in this condition. They'd been busy yes, but that wasn't really a good enough reason for why she had a pile of pine-cones beside the bed from Borealis. Muttering to herself whilst straightening the objects on her dressing table (an origami jumping frog? Really?) Donna knew the undercurrent of her mood wasn't just because of the state of her room, but linked intrinsically to the woebegone figure she'd left in her bathroom. But the TARDIS whispered reassurance into the back of her mind and she slipped into the massive walk in wardrobe to hang up some of the most crumpled items.
Polly, warmed by the rising steam at her back, drew herself together on a trembling breath and hauled the under-shirt over her head in one swift motion dropping it onto the pile with the others. This hurdle overcome it was only a moment to undo her breeches, slide them down over thin flanks and step out of the tattered remains. Those breeches had once been her pride and joy, a gift in tailoring that clung in all the right places and brought a sparkle to Mal's eye whenever Polly paraded in them. Now they hung loose about her figure and it was only thanks to the braces that they held up at all. Her under-shorts had long ago gone to a better place (three better places if you counted the pair that she'd donated for bandages) and so it was in her own scrawny skin that she gathered the small pathetic pile of together to drop outside the door. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror surprised by her hip bones and ribs and the betraying tracks of tears that lay on her cheeks. Standing there with her entire worldly possessions clasped in both arms she felt again the hot sting of moisture behind her eyes but managed to hold the emotion at a distance until she'd dropped her burden and closed the door again against the outside world.
Standing silently behind the door she heard Donna come back in to pick up her tattered belongings and a moment later the faint sound of the bedroom door closing. Finally alone she stepped away from the door, her tightly held shoulders drooping a little in the steam. The water called to her and Polly could resist it no longer as stepping over the rim she slid gratefully into its welcoming embrace. She surrendered then, permitting the tears to come at last and wept silently into her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her shins.
~X~
End of Part One (part two posted tomorrow - or tonight if I can get down and back from the shops in time).