Fic: Lunar Larceny (1/2)
Title: Lunar Larceny
Authors: Gillian Taylor (dark_aegis)
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Donna Noble (Nine/Rose)
Spoilers: Sequel to Hiding in Plain Sight and spoilers for Doomsday
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine by any stretch of the imagination. I'm just having fun with them
Summary: For Sale: One slightly used spaceship, circa 1969
Author's Notes: Written for amberfocus who asked for the sequel to Hiding in Plain Sight, with alt!Nine and Rose getting to know each other better, scads of UST as an incentive fic in the April (yes, April!) Support Stacie auction. With many thanks, as always, to wendymr for her betaing services.
"Lunar Larceny"
by Gillian Taylor
Chapter 1: Loss of Signal
It's raining. Thick, heavy drops that turn her shirt into a wet second-skin. She should've thought about choosing a different shirt when she got up this morning. She should've known. White isn't the colour to wear while travelling with the Doctor, no matter how many times Jack somehow managed to pull it off.
There's a step - well, more like a splash - behind her and she turns. Instincts honed by years at the Doctor's side and by Torchwood's training have her almost dropping into a crouch, ready to attack. She relaxes in an instant, recognising the Doctor.
She's about to say something flippant, when all words die before they even reach her lips. It's his eyes. She's never seen him look at her like that. Like she's water and he's dying of thirst. Like a man looking at a woman.
"Do-" she begins, but her words are cut off by the feel of his hand against her lips, more of a caress than anything else.
This is the closest they've been since she rejoined him. All it will take is her to take a step forward, to close the distance between them, to give into the urge and press her lips against his.
He's the one who moves, the one who draws closer. He's leaning down, so close, so close and…
Rose's eyes open to darkness and it takes her a moment to remember where she is. The TARDIS. Her bed. Three months since she joined the TARDIS crew in this universe. Two days since the events of her dream. Well, some of those events.
Her shirt had been plastered to her skin. The Doctor had joined her, but there'd sadly been no snogging. One moment she'd been convinced that they were growing closer and the next there was an entire abyss between them. It's enough to drive her insane. Or to at least make her want to scream.
She thinks that Donna knows what's been happening. She's the Doctor's best friend, while Rose is - what? The piece of flesh on the side? Former best friend of a different incarnation?
What is she supposed to do about this? Thinking about it obviously isn't helping. The Doctor isn't helping either. It's either he wants to take the next step, or he doesn't. God, her head's done in.
She can't sleep like this. Sighing, she kicks herself free of the bedclothes and sits up on her bed, swinging her feet onto the floor. She might as well get dressed, go to the kitchen and get a drink. Maybe get something to eat. It's not like she's going to be able to relax any time soon.
After she's dressed and has tamed her hair into some semblance of normality, she leaves her room and heads for the kitchen. It's not likely she'll find either Donna or the Doctor in the kitchen at this time of night. The Doctor's probably tinkering with something or other in the console room, and Donna's probably fast asleep. Good. She's not fit for company like this.
She turns the corner into the kitchen and slams into a very familiar broad chest. Hands come to her arms immediately, steadying her. But she's more distracted by the sensation of him being so close. The feel of his breath as it stirs her hair.
"All right?" he asks gruffly.
Something in the tone of his voice has her looking up at him. Strange, she could've sworn he wasn't that close before. She doesn't recognise the emotion that's lurking behind his blue eyes, but she holds her breath anyway.
"Get a room, you two," Donna says from behind her and in that instant, the moment is lost.
She steps away from the Doctor as soon as he releases her and she smoothes her shirt almost nervously. "Sorry," she says quietly and moves into the kitchen with both the Doctor and Donna following behind her. "So, what's the plan for the day, then?" It's obvious that no-one is sleeping or resting, which means in TARDIS-terms it's daytime.
"Well-" Donna begins, no trace of the smile or grimace she was bound to be wearing after catching her with the Doctor. "I had an idea about that…"
"Dad, you're going to catch your death up here," Sylvia Noble huffs as she climbs up the allotment, carrying his jacket and a thermos full of tea. Honestly. You'd think the bloke was trying to be the death of her the way he carries on like this. All hours of the night he can be found up here, rain or shine, looking through his telescope.
She should take it away from him. It'd serve him right.
"Sylvia, I'm fine," he insists, but carries on holding his neck at an awkward angle, staring at the clear night sky. Good thing, too. If it'd been raining, she wouldn't've let him out of the house. Admittedly, he always finds mysterious ways to escape when he knows she's not looking.
"It's freezing out here, Dad. Here, just put on your jacket," she says, holding out the clothing. "And I brought you some tea."
"Thanks, love," he says absently, twisting something or other on the side of the telescope. He doesn't even hold out his hand for the jacket or the tea.
"Dad!" she exclaims, wrapping all her frustrations into that one word.
"What? I said I'm fine," he says, finally tearing his eyes away from the telescope to look at her.
True, he's wearing his trusty woollen hat, but that's not enough in weather like this. She's covered in no less than three layers compared to his measly one. "Put on the jacket, please?"
He sighs and reaches for it, shrugging it onto his shoulders. "Thanks," he says again.
"What is it about those stars that have you so fascinated, Dad? They're just stars."
He looks away for just a moment. Just a moment, mind, but it's telling in and of itself. He's hiding something. "What?" she asks, no, demands.
"They're brilliant. No, fantastic," he retorts. "Got it in my head to try to find myself a new one. All right?"
That might be part of it, but he's not telling her everything. "Dad. Do I need to call Donna?" Lord knows her daughter can get her granddad to talk when she can't.
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. "No! No, no, I'm fine. Don't you go disturbing her."
Disturbing her? Since she left the house over a year ago, she's barely even seen her daughter. Donna had muttered something about a magnificent temping opportunity, travelling with a doctor all over the world. It's beyond her why a doctor would want to take up with Donna - she's long ago since come to the conclusion that Donna will never give her grandchildren - but actually being able to see her daughter, let alone talking to her, every once in a while would be nice.
But her dad was being a little dodgy here. Was it something about Donna, maybe? "Dad-" she begins.
"I envy her," her dad says suddenly. "Travelling all over like that. Seeing things no-one else has seen."
She scoffs. "We can see it on the telly if we want to. And I'm sure there're loads of people who've seen the things she has." It's not like Donna's seeing something truly unique. It's just the Earth. She sees more of it watching the news. Actually, she doesn't want to be seeing a lot of it. The news never has any happy endings. It's always a murder here, a disaster there, and a war somewhere else.
Maybe she should've been a lot sterner when Donna said she was going off with that doctor of hers. Said that she wasn't allowed to go. It was too dangerous out there in the world for the likes of her. But she'd seemed happy, content, the last time she saw her. And, if she had to admit it, the travelling seemed to be good for Donna. Not that she's going off and getting married like she should be at her age.
Her dad looks at her and shakes his head, like he knows something she doesn't. Her dad can be just as stubborn as she is - as Donna is, even - and she knows she won't get anything out of him. Not tonight, at least. "Don't stay up here too long," she says. Useless, she knows. He'll be up here until three in the morning most likely. He's getting far too old for this, what with his birthday tomorrow and he's not even resting. He knows she's going to throw him a party, but this is her dad she's talking about. He'll do as he wants. He always has.
"I won't, sweetheart," he promises.
She sighs and leaves him the thermos, carefully picking her way down the allotment and back to her house.
There's a strange sound in the air - a sort of wheezing groan - and she wonders if it's the neighbours forgetting to be considerate for the others on the street again. Idiots. And they wonder why people keep calling the police on them.
Shaking her head, she decides she's going to do the calling this time. It's rude to make a racket like that at this time of night.
Wilf's head raises the instant he hears that noise. Grinning, he abandons his telescope and stands, watching as the familiar blue box fades in and out of existence. Once it stops, he's at the doors waiting for his Donna to come outside.
When the doors open and he sees her, his smile widens. She looks wonderful. But she always has done since she started travelling with the Doctor. "Donna!" he exclaims and she's suddenly in his arms.
"Hey, Gramps," she says, hugging him tightly. "Thought we'd drop in, see if you'd be interested in getting your birthday present a bit early."
"You're home," he replies, relishing the feel of her in his arms. "That's all the present I need."
She smiles and shakes her head, letting herself fall free from his embrace. "How about a trip? Just one, mind. Nothing dangerous."
He can hardly believe it. A trip? "You mean up to Leeds or one of those villas by the coast?"
She laughs. "No. I mean a trip. With us. In the TARDIS."
"In there?" He gives the TARDIS a suspicious look. He's getting too long in the tooth to go gallivanting around the universe like his granddaughter.
"Yep," she says. "The Doctor said it's all right. Thought we'd go and see the moon landing."
"I've seen it," he reminds her. "On the telly. Won't ever forget it."
She laughs and he gets the impression he's thinking too simply. "Not that. I mean there. In person. On the moon." She points her hand upwards, towards the moon.
"I'm getting too old for gallivanting around the universe," he reminds her.
"No-one said anything about gallivanting," Donna says. "Just a quick trip. We'll have you back before Mum even starts missing you."
He gives her a look. Sylvia is already starting to miss him, knowing her. She's probably sitting up, waiting for him to come home.
"Yeah, I know, but it'll be fun, yeah?" she says, holding out her hand. "It's wonderful, Gramps, seriously."
"All right," he agrees.
His granddaughter's brilliant smile is all the reward - and, yes, present - he needs.
He's obviously out of his mind. Completely bonkers. He never would've agreed to something like this before. Sure, he likes the old bloke, but this isn't something that he'd do for just anyone. But Donna isn't just anyone. She's his best mate.
The Doctor leans against the railing, folding his arms in front of himself as he waits. She should be bringing Wilf through those doors any second now. No adventures, no excitement, just taking a man to see an amazing achievement as a birthday present.
"Thank you," Rose says quietly from beside him and he startles. She's far too stealthy for his own good. Either that, or he really needs to work on his ability to keep aware of his surroundings when he's wool-gathering.
"What for?" he asks.
She moves to stand beside him, her arm brushing against his. He shouldn't be so aware of her. "For agreein' to bring Wilf with us when we leave. Show him the moon landing."
He shrugs. "Wilf's not a bad sort. It's a good birthday present."
"It's the best birthday present," she corrects. There's something hidden within those words and he turns his head to look at her.
She's not looking at him, though. That makes him wonder. "When's your birthday?" he asks. Important thing to know, really. Human women get all out of sorts if you don't acknowledge the day of their birth. Beyond him, that. It's not like he goes around advertising when he was loomed or anything.
"Next week," she says. "At least, if we're talkin' Earth time. You don't have to do anything for it, though. This is enough present as it is." She waves her hand to encompass the TARDIS and, perhaps, their life.
That's what he thinks, too. This is more than enough for him. But he won't forget what Rose has said. She may not ask for a present, but he'll remember to get one for her. He doesn't have a chance to reply to her because the doors swing open and Donna and her grandfather walk into the TARDIS.
"Don't say it," he says, immediately noticing Wilf's slack-jawed look around the console room.
"It's-" Wilf begins.
"Seriously, don't," he interrupts. "It's always the same with you lot. Can't wrap your heads around the concept of dimensions bein' separate between inside and out. Yes, it's bigger on the inside. An' I know Donna's already told you I'm an alien. An' we're goin' to see the moon landing. That all right?"
"Yes. Yes, it's all right," Wilf says, apparently somewhat dazed.
"You'd better hold on to something," Rose says. "The ride's a bit bumpy."
"Oi!" That's not fair, that is. Just because the ship's getting on in years.
The TARDIS's hum deepens in reproach and he moves towards the console to stroke his hand across it. "Sorry, girl," he says quietly.
"What she means to say is that his driving isn't the best," Donna adds, grinning when he turns to glare at her. Why was it that he thought it was a good idea to have two women on the TARDIS again?
Then he sees Rose smile and Donna laugh and remembers.
Shaking his head, he turns his attention back to the console. After he sets the date to July 20, 1969, he starts twisting knobs and flipping switches, determined to make this one of the least bumpy rides that they've had in the TARDIS.
In his peripheral vision, he sees Rose and Donna move Wilf to a spot where he can both hold on and be out of the way. Good.
He initiates the dematerialisation sequence. The roar of the engines fills the room and he grins.
"1969 here we come!" he announces.
Donna keeps a close eye on her granddad as soon as the TARDIS begins to dematerialise. She doesn't know if this particular trip will be the exception to the rule, but she inevitably ends up flat on her back at least once during their trips to and from their destinations. She wouldn't put it past the Doctor to be doing it on purpose.
Amazingly, the TARDIS barely shudders as they launch into the Vortex. She turns her attention to the Doctor. He definitely looks rather smug. Daft idiot. He's doing this on purpose. Still, it's for a good cause. Her granddad doesn't need to get jostled about too much, especially at his age.
The Doctor shoots her a grin and moments later the engines roar again as they materialise. "Thought we'd start in orbit. Right before the lunar module separated from the command module. We'll be behind them, completely invisible to their sensors," the Doctor says.
She grins and moves to her granddad's side, grabbing his hand. "C'mon," she says. "You'll love this."
They move to the doors, but he hesitates. "How'll we breathe?" he asks.
"Simple," she replies, opening the doors. "It's the TARDIS. She maintains atmosphere in here. We can open the doors and get a first-hand look at space."
The moon's turning slowly beneath them, a wide expanse of pock-marked grey. Knowing the Doctor, he would've turned the TARDIS so they'd be looking right at Apollo 11. Instead, when she looks up, she sees empty space.
"Um, Doctor, is this the right time?" she asks.
"Of course it is!" he retorts. "That's insulting, that is. Just because I misjudged once-"
"-Try several times," she interjects.
"-It's the twentieth of July 1969. Apollo 11 is right outside those doors," the Doctor says, glaring at her.
"No, it isn't," Donna replies. "I see the moon, but that's it."
"What?" Rose asks, moving to join her. "You're right." That's not right. Rose isn't supposed to sound like she isn't looking properly. Course she is! She's been around the block a few times. She knows how to look. Either they're not in the right time, or Apollo 11 isn't there. And it certainly isn't the former.
"Oi! Don't sound so surprised," she says.
Rose winces. "Sorry."
"The sensor readings are conclusive," the Doctor says, tapping away at something or other at the console. "The command and lunar modules aren't in orbit. Apollo 11 is missing."
***
Chapter 2: The Eagle is Missing
x-posted to: dark_aegis, time_and_chips, and hearts_in_time
Authors: Gillian Taylor (dark_aegis)
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Donna Noble (Nine/Rose)
Spoilers: Sequel to Hiding in Plain Sight and spoilers for Doomsday
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine by any stretch of the imagination. I'm just having fun with them
Summary: For Sale: One slightly used spaceship, circa 1969
Author's Notes: Written for amberfocus who asked for the sequel to Hiding in Plain Sight, with alt!Nine and Rose getting to know each other better, scads of UST as an incentive fic in the April (yes, April!) Support Stacie auction. With many thanks, as always, to wendymr for her betaing services.
"Lunar Larceny"
by Gillian Taylor
Chapter 1: Loss of Signal
It's raining. Thick, heavy drops that turn her shirt into a wet second-skin. She should've thought about choosing a different shirt when she got up this morning. She should've known. White isn't the colour to wear while travelling with the Doctor, no matter how many times Jack somehow managed to pull it off.
There's a step - well, more like a splash - behind her and she turns. Instincts honed by years at the Doctor's side and by Torchwood's training have her almost dropping into a crouch, ready to attack. She relaxes in an instant, recognising the Doctor.
She's about to say something flippant, when all words die before they even reach her lips. It's his eyes. She's never seen him look at her like that. Like she's water and he's dying of thirst. Like a man looking at a woman.
"Do-" she begins, but her words are cut off by the feel of his hand against her lips, more of a caress than anything else.
This is the closest they've been since she rejoined him. All it will take is her to take a step forward, to close the distance between them, to give into the urge and press her lips against his.
He's the one who moves, the one who draws closer. He's leaning down, so close, so close and…
Rose's eyes open to darkness and it takes her a moment to remember where she is. The TARDIS. Her bed. Three months since she joined the TARDIS crew in this universe. Two days since the events of her dream. Well, some of those events.
Her shirt had been plastered to her skin. The Doctor had joined her, but there'd sadly been no snogging. One moment she'd been convinced that they were growing closer and the next there was an entire abyss between them. It's enough to drive her insane. Or to at least make her want to scream.
She thinks that Donna knows what's been happening. She's the Doctor's best friend, while Rose is - what? The piece of flesh on the side? Former best friend of a different incarnation?
What is she supposed to do about this? Thinking about it obviously isn't helping. The Doctor isn't helping either. It's either he wants to take the next step, or he doesn't. God, her head's done in.
She can't sleep like this. Sighing, she kicks herself free of the bedclothes and sits up on her bed, swinging her feet onto the floor. She might as well get dressed, go to the kitchen and get a drink. Maybe get something to eat. It's not like she's going to be able to relax any time soon.
After she's dressed and has tamed her hair into some semblance of normality, she leaves her room and heads for the kitchen. It's not likely she'll find either Donna or the Doctor in the kitchen at this time of night. The Doctor's probably tinkering with something or other in the console room, and Donna's probably fast asleep. Good. She's not fit for company like this.
She turns the corner into the kitchen and slams into a very familiar broad chest. Hands come to her arms immediately, steadying her. But she's more distracted by the sensation of him being so close. The feel of his breath as it stirs her hair.
"All right?" he asks gruffly.
Something in the tone of his voice has her looking up at him. Strange, she could've sworn he wasn't that close before. She doesn't recognise the emotion that's lurking behind his blue eyes, but she holds her breath anyway.
"Get a room, you two," Donna says from behind her and in that instant, the moment is lost.
She steps away from the Doctor as soon as he releases her and she smoothes her shirt almost nervously. "Sorry," she says quietly and moves into the kitchen with both the Doctor and Donna following behind her. "So, what's the plan for the day, then?" It's obvious that no-one is sleeping or resting, which means in TARDIS-terms it's daytime.
"Well-" Donna begins, no trace of the smile or grimace she was bound to be wearing after catching her with the Doctor. "I had an idea about that…"
"Dad, you're going to catch your death up here," Sylvia Noble huffs as she climbs up the allotment, carrying his jacket and a thermos full of tea. Honestly. You'd think the bloke was trying to be the death of her the way he carries on like this. All hours of the night he can be found up here, rain or shine, looking through his telescope.
She should take it away from him. It'd serve him right.
"Sylvia, I'm fine," he insists, but carries on holding his neck at an awkward angle, staring at the clear night sky. Good thing, too. If it'd been raining, she wouldn't've let him out of the house. Admittedly, he always finds mysterious ways to escape when he knows she's not looking.
"It's freezing out here, Dad. Here, just put on your jacket," she says, holding out the clothing. "And I brought you some tea."
"Thanks, love," he says absently, twisting something or other on the side of the telescope. He doesn't even hold out his hand for the jacket or the tea.
"Dad!" she exclaims, wrapping all her frustrations into that one word.
"What? I said I'm fine," he says, finally tearing his eyes away from the telescope to look at her.
True, he's wearing his trusty woollen hat, but that's not enough in weather like this. She's covered in no less than three layers compared to his measly one. "Put on the jacket, please?"
He sighs and reaches for it, shrugging it onto his shoulders. "Thanks," he says again.
"What is it about those stars that have you so fascinated, Dad? They're just stars."
He looks away for just a moment. Just a moment, mind, but it's telling in and of itself. He's hiding something. "What?" she asks, no, demands.
"They're brilliant. No, fantastic," he retorts. "Got it in my head to try to find myself a new one. All right?"
That might be part of it, but he's not telling her everything. "Dad. Do I need to call Donna?" Lord knows her daughter can get her granddad to talk when she can't.
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. "No! No, no, I'm fine. Don't you go disturbing her."
Disturbing her? Since she left the house over a year ago, she's barely even seen her daughter. Donna had muttered something about a magnificent temping opportunity, travelling with a doctor all over the world. It's beyond her why a doctor would want to take up with Donna - she's long ago since come to the conclusion that Donna will never give her grandchildren - but actually being able to see her daughter, let alone talking to her, every once in a while would be nice.
But her dad was being a little dodgy here. Was it something about Donna, maybe? "Dad-" she begins.
"I envy her," her dad says suddenly. "Travelling all over like that. Seeing things no-one else has seen."
She scoffs. "We can see it on the telly if we want to. And I'm sure there're loads of people who've seen the things she has." It's not like Donna's seeing something truly unique. It's just the Earth. She sees more of it watching the news. Actually, she doesn't want to be seeing a lot of it. The news never has any happy endings. It's always a murder here, a disaster there, and a war somewhere else.
Maybe she should've been a lot sterner when Donna said she was going off with that doctor of hers. Said that she wasn't allowed to go. It was too dangerous out there in the world for the likes of her. But she'd seemed happy, content, the last time she saw her. And, if she had to admit it, the travelling seemed to be good for Donna. Not that she's going off and getting married like she should be at her age.
Her dad looks at her and shakes his head, like he knows something she doesn't. Her dad can be just as stubborn as she is - as Donna is, even - and she knows she won't get anything out of him. Not tonight, at least. "Don't stay up here too long," she says. Useless, she knows. He'll be up here until three in the morning most likely. He's getting far too old for this, what with his birthday tomorrow and he's not even resting. He knows she's going to throw him a party, but this is her dad she's talking about. He'll do as he wants. He always has.
"I won't, sweetheart," he promises.
She sighs and leaves him the thermos, carefully picking her way down the allotment and back to her house.
There's a strange sound in the air - a sort of wheezing groan - and she wonders if it's the neighbours forgetting to be considerate for the others on the street again. Idiots. And they wonder why people keep calling the police on them.
Shaking her head, she decides she's going to do the calling this time. It's rude to make a racket like that at this time of night.
Wilf's head raises the instant he hears that noise. Grinning, he abandons his telescope and stands, watching as the familiar blue box fades in and out of existence. Once it stops, he's at the doors waiting for his Donna to come outside.
When the doors open and he sees her, his smile widens. She looks wonderful. But she always has done since she started travelling with the Doctor. "Donna!" he exclaims and she's suddenly in his arms.
"Hey, Gramps," she says, hugging him tightly. "Thought we'd drop in, see if you'd be interested in getting your birthday present a bit early."
"You're home," he replies, relishing the feel of her in his arms. "That's all the present I need."
She smiles and shakes her head, letting herself fall free from his embrace. "How about a trip? Just one, mind. Nothing dangerous."
He can hardly believe it. A trip? "You mean up to Leeds or one of those villas by the coast?"
She laughs. "No. I mean a trip. With us. In the TARDIS."
"In there?" He gives the TARDIS a suspicious look. He's getting too long in the tooth to go gallivanting around the universe like his granddaughter.
"Yep," she says. "The Doctor said it's all right. Thought we'd go and see the moon landing."
"I've seen it," he reminds her. "On the telly. Won't ever forget it."
She laughs and he gets the impression he's thinking too simply. "Not that. I mean there. In person. On the moon." She points her hand upwards, towards the moon.
"I'm getting too old for gallivanting around the universe," he reminds her.
"No-one said anything about gallivanting," Donna says. "Just a quick trip. We'll have you back before Mum even starts missing you."
He gives her a look. Sylvia is already starting to miss him, knowing her. She's probably sitting up, waiting for him to come home.
"Yeah, I know, but it'll be fun, yeah?" she says, holding out her hand. "It's wonderful, Gramps, seriously."
"All right," he agrees.
His granddaughter's brilliant smile is all the reward - and, yes, present - he needs.
He's obviously out of his mind. Completely bonkers. He never would've agreed to something like this before. Sure, he likes the old bloke, but this isn't something that he'd do for just anyone. But Donna isn't just anyone. She's his best mate.
The Doctor leans against the railing, folding his arms in front of himself as he waits. She should be bringing Wilf through those doors any second now. No adventures, no excitement, just taking a man to see an amazing achievement as a birthday present.
"Thank you," Rose says quietly from beside him and he startles. She's far too stealthy for his own good. Either that, or he really needs to work on his ability to keep aware of his surroundings when he's wool-gathering.
"What for?" he asks.
She moves to stand beside him, her arm brushing against his. He shouldn't be so aware of her. "For agreein' to bring Wilf with us when we leave. Show him the moon landing."
He shrugs. "Wilf's not a bad sort. It's a good birthday present."
"It's the best birthday present," she corrects. There's something hidden within those words and he turns his head to look at her.
She's not looking at him, though. That makes him wonder. "When's your birthday?" he asks. Important thing to know, really. Human women get all out of sorts if you don't acknowledge the day of their birth. Beyond him, that. It's not like he goes around advertising when he was loomed or anything.
"Next week," she says. "At least, if we're talkin' Earth time. You don't have to do anything for it, though. This is enough present as it is." She waves her hand to encompass the TARDIS and, perhaps, their life.
That's what he thinks, too. This is more than enough for him. But he won't forget what Rose has said. She may not ask for a present, but he'll remember to get one for her. He doesn't have a chance to reply to her because the doors swing open and Donna and her grandfather walk into the TARDIS.
"Don't say it," he says, immediately noticing Wilf's slack-jawed look around the console room.
"It's-" Wilf begins.
"Seriously, don't," he interrupts. "It's always the same with you lot. Can't wrap your heads around the concept of dimensions bein' separate between inside and out. Yes, it's bigger on the inside. An' I know Donna's already told you I'm an alien. An' we're goin' to see the moon landing. That all right?"
"Yes. Yes, it's all right," Wilf says, apparently somewhat dazed.
"You'd better hold on to something," Rose says. "The ride's a bit bumpy."
"Oi!" That's not fair, that is. Just because the ship's getting on in years.
The TARDIS's hum deepens in reproach and he moves towards the console to stroke his hand across it. "Sorry, girl," he says quietly.
"What she means to say is that his driving isn't the best," Donna adds, grinning when he turns to glare at her. Why was it that he thought it was a good idea to have two women on the TARDIS again?
Then he sees Rose smile and Donna laugh and remembers.
Shaking his head, he turns his attention back to the console. After he sets the date to July 20, 1969, he starts twisting knobs and flipping switches, determined to make this one of the least bumpy rides that they've had in the TARDIS.
In his peripheral vision, he sees Rose and Donna move Wilf to a spot where he can both hold on and be out of the way. Good.
He initiates the dematerialisation sequence. The roar of the engines fills the room and he grins.
"1969 here we come!" he announces.
Donna keeps a close eye on her granddad as soon as the TARDIS begins to dematerialise. She doesn't know if this particular trip will be the exception to the rule, but she inevitably ends up flat on her back at least once during their trips to and from their destinations. She wouldn't put it past the Doctor to be doing it on purpose.
Amazingly, the TARDIS barely shudders as they launch into the Vortex. She turns her attention to the Doctor. He definitely looks rather smug. Daft idiot. He's doing this on purpose. Still, it's for a good cause. Her granddad doesn't need to get jostled about too much, especially at his age.
The Doctor shoots her a grin and moments later the engines roar again as they materialise. "Thought we'd start in orbit. Right before the lunar module separated from the command module. We'll be behind them, completely invisible to their sensors," the Doctor says.
She grins and moves to her granddad's side, grabbing his hand. "C'mon," she says. "You'll love this."
They move to the doors, but he hesitates. "How'll we breathe?" he asks.
"Simple," she replies, opening the doors. "It's the TARDIS. She maintains atmosphere in here. We can open the doors and get a first-hand look at space."
The moon's turning slowly beneath them, a wide expanse of pock-marked grey. Knowing the Doctor, he would've turned the TARDIS so they'd be looking right at Apollo 11. Instead, when she looks up, she sees empty space.
"Um, Doctor, is this the right time?" she asks.
"Of course it is!" he retorts. "That's insulting, that is. Just because I misjudged once-"
"-Try several times," she interjects.
"-It's the twentieth of July 1969. Apollo 11 is right outside those doors," the Doctor says, glaring at her.
"No, it isn't," Donna replies. "I see the moon, but that's it."
"What?" Rose asks, moving to join her. "You're right." That's not right. Rose isn't supposed to sound like she isn't looking properly. Course she is! She's been around the block a few times. She knows how to look. Either they're not in the right time, or Apollo 11 isn't there. And it certainly isn't the former.
"Oi! Don't sound so surprised," she says.
Rose winces. "Sorry."
"The sensor readings are conclusive," the Doctor says, tapping away at something or other at the console. "The command and lunar modules aren't in orbit. Apollo 11 is missing."
***
Chapter 2: The Eagle is Missing
x-posted to: dark_aegis, time_and_chips, and hearts_in_time