"Just a bit," Ten agreed with himself, which he knew was very rare indeed. His selves could seldom agree on anything. "What with Slythein and Daleks and Cybermen and Racknoss, I have been a bit busy." Ten stopped himself from examining the areas of skin of Martha's breasts that were not covered by her brassiere. Even with full detached professionalism, there were certain boundaries that simply were not made to be crossed.
"We'll need the trousers now, Dr. Jones."
"What?!" Martha shrieked, speaking over whatever question Nine asked.
"Isn't like I haven't seen your knickers before," Ten patiently reminded her. Of course, she hadn't been wearing them at the time, and he'd spotted them in the laundry, but the words still held an element of truth.
"I wasn't wearing them at the time!" Martha's eyes widened and she made a sound somewhere between a gulp and a whimper - quite endearing really - before she rolled her eyes skyward. This close to her, Ten could see her complexion darkening with a lovely undercoat of red beneath the surface.
"Martha, your legs, I need to examine them." Ten said gently.
"I know!" Martha snapped out the words, her voice tight with tension and embarrassment.
All right then, maybe he had pushed it a bit much with the knickers remark. Humans and their sensitivities.
Speaking of which. . .
Ten stood, and looked around, then snatched up a blanket from the bed. He tossed it to Nine. "You, privacy curtain. Hold it up so that Martha doesn't have to worry that every bloke in the area is getting a glimpse at her pants.
"Also, screwdriver got completely fried when I ran into the Judoon," Ten easily picked up the trail of his earlier conversation. "Had to rebuild it, lost a few good settings, but I think I might have most of them back." While he talked he whipped out the screwdriver and tossed it like a baton. It kept his attention away from Martha as she continued to disrobe. However small, he knew it gave her some feeling of control and privacy.
"Mushroom really is the troubling bit. There's nothing to it, though. I scanned it thoroughly. No radio signals, no transmat receivers, no receivers or emitters of any kind. Just a stone mushroom."
"Might we get this over with, Doctor?"
Ten bit back a quip about the matching bra and knickers.
Lying on her back on the bed, clad in only her shirt - she'd insisted on that bit of modesty - and knickers, while the Doctor knelt beside her and examined her legs had an air of the surreal that Martha thought she should have been accustomed to by now. If the heat of her face, which had nothing to do with her fever, was any indication then she was far from acclimated.
(Of course that could just be because the Doctor is talking to himself while I'm lying about in my knickers.) Never mind the surrealism of that statement.
Martha stared at the top of the tent, grateful that she'd shaved her legs before they'd been tossed rudely into another universe, and hoped that her body didn't betray her with any outward indications of what the Doctor's touch did to her.
She might have accepted that she didn't stand a chance with the man alien, but she was only human and he was . . . well, he was The Doctor.
(Honestly, how long does it take to look for a few bug bites or puncture marks?)
"Why, Martha Jones, you are showing a bit of vanity." The Doctor's voice drew her attention to him, holding her left foot in his hand. He wiggled her big toe, "You color your toenails."
Martha gaped at him. (Inexplicable. Really, he is.) She snapped her jaw shut. "Doctor, is this really the time?"
"Ah, quite right." Ten slapped the bottom of her foot lightly. "Roll over. On your stomach."
A new realization and implication blossomed in her head and Martha really wished that she'd kept her mouth shut.
"Do I look like a privacy screen to you?" Nine chuffed, but went ahead holding up the blanket his back to Martha.
Those rats weren't like anything I;ve seen before. So if someone is experimentin' with genetic crossbreeding or tryin' to outright build a better animal from the ground up, it could mean a toxin the innoculation didn't cover.
"No," Martha replied, happy for anything that would distract her from the fact that her arse - thankfully not bare - was fully exposed to the Doctor. "Sometimes, he's much worse."
Ten released a very theatrical sigh. "I was only concerned about your modesty."
"This time." Martha dared to lift up on her elbows and look back over her shoulder at him. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that he truly was studying the backs of her legs. "I've told you that you really have to learn to play nice with the other children."
"Martha's clean, no bites or punctures," Ten declared, clearly ignoring her words. "Puts us back to square one with a non-specific fever, meaning a toxin or some mutagen or virus that we've not seen before."
Martha rolled over and swung her legs over the side of the bed and into a sitting position. She moved too quickly and had to close her eyes a moment as a wave of dizziness hit.
"Martha?" There was no mistaking the concern in her Doctor's voice, a supporting hand on her lower arm.
"'M all right," Martha opened her eyes. "Just sat up a bit too quickly." She held out her hand and fanned her fingers. Without missing a beat, Ten promptly handed her the discarded blue jeans. "So then, if it's a virus or toxin," Martha drew a breath and tried not to think too hard or focus too long on the possibilities and outcomes that swam to mind, "How come I'm the only person ill?"
"Injections can be covered." Ninepulled the dermal regenerator out of his pocket and waved it, still holding the blanket, though he had half dipped it. "Might be you're the only one got this strain. Might be somethin you had before you got here. Can't rule that out."
He waited until she pulled on her pants.
"I'll show you both the files we have on what they did to the four women they captured. Never hurts to get more brains workin' on it. Specially one more of me." He grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Then the grin fell.
"You haven't been exposed to nanogines recently, have you?"
Might not have swallowed the vortex, but if they built off what they may have learned from Rose, they might be able to turn dead ones on.
"Nanogenes?" Martha asked. "There are nanogenes and you've never shown them to me?"
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, "You can take the doctor out of the scientist, but you can't take the scientist out of the doctor. You wouldn't want to see nanogenes, they can go a little bit mad sometimes." He picked up the thermometer again and waved it in the direction of House and Franklin, "Going to keep this for a bit to monitor Martha here."
"No, no nanogenes. Last place we were was back in 1969. Saw the moon landing on the telly. Nothing like the real thing at all." Ten clapped his hands together once and after pocketing the thermometer, said, "Let's see those files, then. Two more sets of eyes have to be good for something, and I'd hate to see Martha get bored."
Martha rolled her eyes, but her mouth twitched. "I'm not the one whose boredom we have to worry about."
He studied her for a second or two longer. Despite the fever, she did look well and she wasn't acting oddly. Ten would try not to worry too much, but getting her to take a swim if her fever showed no change in the next hour or so.
"What're you implying?" Nine asked, streight faced.
Wasn't like he'd been compared to a hyperactive ten year old or anything. Just yesterday.
"Be back in a tick. By the way, I've been keepin' a close eye on Aaron, the infant you no doubt heard a bit ago. His mum was one of those they were toyin' with, including sedatives and some interesting chemicals just before he was born. But, as nothing has shown up so far, other than empathy, I'm not gonna make her spend her time frettin."
Nine walked back to the grass hut and found Rose was off.
/Rose?/
He sensed her direction and looked out the door.
/Weavin' with Molly and Sue. New people need floor coverin'. Go play with yourself./ humor flitted over the link.
Hmm... he wondered if his other self could 'hear' her. It was due to her link to the Tardis and the genetic changes brought on by Bad Wolf.
He pulled the files, each carefully sealled in large plastic zip bags, from the bottom of the woven chest.
He carried them back to the infirmary. Even if they didn't have any further theories or notice something the doctors, Rodney and Danny had missed, they would see what the opposition was capable of.
He set the thick files down on Martha's 'bed'. Rose's was on top.
"This is some of what they do. So you'll be more than a bit wary of suspicious symptoms round here."
When Nine excused himself, Martha turned to the Doctor. "How bad do you think it is, then?"
"What is?"
"This," Martha motioned to her body with her hand. "Whatever it is I've got. I'm a doctor, I know that non-specific fever isn't a good sign. High as you say it is and I'm not feeling any symptoms . . ."
"Might be a good thing, that," Ten immediately cut her off. "Means your body is fighting off whatever is you're dealing with. Soon as we get to the TARDIS, we'll find out what's really going on. Nothing we won't be able to tackle once we know what it is."
Martha wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself. They lapsed into silence, neither of them mentioning the threats of heat stroke or heat exhaustion that loomed with a high fever in a tropical environment. Ten wandered around the infirmary, looking through the medications and commenting on human technology, what medicines would exist in the future and what would be completely eliminated due to better medicines or even a lack of need for them. Martha's mouth turned up in a fond smile as she watched him. She let her walls down and let go of the mask, and simply adored the Doctor for being the Doctor, content in the knowledge that no one would see the writing on her face; Dr. Franklin was otherwise engaged and Dr. House wasn't interested in the goings-on within the infirmary.
Nine's arrival startled her and Martha flustered while she locked down her emotions and reactions again. Ten's hand atop of hers impeded her reach for the files. "Why don't we take these with us? Stop us from taking up space in the infirmary. I can look over them while you take that swim we were talking about."
"We weren't talking about a swim."
"Well, we should have," Ten grinned, gathering up the files and tucking them under his arm. "It'll cool you off. Might bring down your body temperature a bit." He turned his attention to Nine, "Mind if we take these with us? I know enough to keep them away from the water."
Though Martha was dying to get a look at those medical files, particularly the one labeled 'Tyler, Rose,' she saw the set of the Doctor's jaw and knew that she wouldn't get her hands on them at the moment. He thought that he was protecting her and would comb them over for any possibility of parallels to her condition before letting her look at them.
It was annoying; it was endearing.
"I have a better idea," Martha said. "Why don't you two Time Lords go play your Time Lord games, and I'll take a swim. Maybe by then, you'll be ready to let me have a look at them."
"You sure? You want to head off alone?"
"I'm a big girl, Doctor. I think I can handle it." She gave him a playful, chaste kiss on the cheek "I promise not to get lost or drown."
Ten pulled a face. "Don't even joke about that." The genuine hurt and worry in his eyes filled her with a bit of guilt. There was a vibe, an air about this place, and though he tried to hide it, Martha knew that the Doctor felt it too. (He wasn't around for Daniel's meeting, but he probably knows more than he's let on so far.)
That realization worried her.
"'M sorry," Martha apologized. "I'll be extra careful and won't go swimming alone. And I'll come straightway back and have myself examined by Dr. Franklin if I can't find you." She gave him a wink.
"Oh really, Dr. Jones, can't you see that the man has an infirmary to run? Save your mating dance for some other time." His mouth twitched into a smile and his eyes twinkled, but Martha still saw the flickering of worry beneath the surface.
Martha rolled her eyes theatrically and turned to Nine, "Keep him out of trouble, please."
She walked away, tossing a wave over her shoulder as she headed down the beach.
"You 'ave a medical doctor with you, and won't let her look over those files." Nine grinned hugely. "Rose gave me the whole patients right to know, bit. Like it applied. She red hers. Edited. Course, she still doesn't know that last bit. Danny-boy is also in the right to know camp."
The Doctor watched Martha walk down and talk to a bunch of people. Least she was bein' sensible. "Does she wander off? Wait, forget I asked. Course she does."
Nine lead the way to a spot with a log bench a bit away from the rest of the camp. It was within shouting distance, within sight, but allowed for something of privacy. Many a private conversation happened here, and more than a bit of cuddle.
"What? I'm not keeping them from her," Ten protested. "Not indefinitely. I couldn't if I wanted to. Martha's annoyingly tenacious when she puts her mind to it. Cheeky woman actually searched my pockets once. While I was still wearing the kit, mind you."
Watching Martha walk away, the Doctor couldn't help but smile at the memory. He left out the fact that he'd been trying to keep her from ringing up her sister, Tish because he'd stolen the mobile in the midst of their gossip session and disconnected it.
Totally by accident, naturally. He simply couldn't wait to hear about Tish's wedding plans. Really.
(Saved myself from having to go back and hang about with the family while Martha tried on bridesmaid dresses.) A tickle of guilt sprang up at the thought. If they had gone back then, maybe they wouldn't be here now.
He followed Nine to the log, glad to see that it really was in sight of the camp. Not that he was worried that Martha might wander off, it just seemed best to keep her in sight considering her unusual fever.
"I suppose we both do," Ten agreed. He decided to be frank about it, there was no need to work up to the question or the conversation. "You and Rose, then and Rose is pregnant." It wasn't a question, but an observation. He used you as opposed to me because this version of himself wasn't him, and while Nine might someday regenerate to share the same appearance as Ten, it was already plainly clear that their lives shared two different paths.
Nine never lost Rose, and Ten would never get her back.
"Domestic, doesn't look good on us at all." It was said with cheek, because humor was how he coped.
"'Snot domestic!" He looked at Ten defensively. "Maybe just a little. Seems there's a lot of things I'd do for Rose I wouldn't do for anyone else. I almost lost her. Came too close. I could say she'd be better off safe with her family, but after you read her file, and the notes I added, you'll see that's not true either." Nine figured that would come into it.
"I take it in your version of the time line, you were able to keep it from goin' that far. Maybe you didn't face the same things. She swallowed the time vortex, took all of it in to save me. An' we both know we never deserve that kind of... She accepted she could die doin' it. Almost did." He sighed. He didn't know when their timelines diverged. This was an alternate version, but a bit older. He wasn't certain when this one regenerated.
"An' here... they did their experiments for a week." He grinned, "An when we got there for our grand rescue, she had managed to not only escape but barricade herself and Claire, who was about ready to give birth, in the room with the exit. Clever girl even set up a trap with cookin' oil and a molotov cocktail and was ready to fight with a butcher knife." There was more than a little pride in his voice. Not at the violence, but that she'd escaped and kept her cool, rescuing another in the process.
"So yeah. Me and Rose. An' I found out recently, that it was pretty much already in the time line." Nine pointed down the beach where Rose was weaving mats with Molly and a child of about ten, only the child was obviously several hundred years old to anyone with any temporal sense. "You ever look at her an' get that nigglin' feelin? She reminds ya of someone, an' you think it's a hint of a future time line. But you can't track it so it has to be personal time line."
Nine's steel blue eyes met Ten's brown ones. "That wasn't it. Not that I was objective. But look at her jaw, her nose... when she tilts her head. Now picture her with black hair."
It was there, when you knew what you looked for. Not that they looked exactly alike, but the family resemblance was definitely there. "She's Susan's grandmother."
(OOC: oh, the angst and ebilness. LOL. Wait til Ten sees the painting.)
The point of divergence was laid out clearly before him. There was no reason to argue about how and why there shouldn't be alternates of himself, the fact existed that there were, and here was the point where the the timelines split.
"Oh, no I didn't stop it," Ten confessed. "That's where our timelines diverge." He didn't look at himself, or even at Rose as he told Nine how Rose took in the time vortex and how he took it from her and regenerated. Looking at Rose was too bittersweet and filled him with an odd feeling that he couldn't quite place. He felt envy and regret, loss, but the pang was muted somehow, weaker now. Ten had seen her, the living breathing flesh; she was whole and she was happy and that was all he could want for her.
"I'd say it's impossible, but I know enough about time to know that it isn't," Ten remarked as he tried ot to see Susan with Rose, looking at her for the first time, down the beach aways. He couldn't deny it when it was pointed out to him. It didn't change the reality, however. "I lost Rose."
"Not like that," Ten said before his other self could presume wrongly. "She's alive, safe. She's with her Mum and Pete. And Mickey." He went on to explain about the Cybermen and the Daleks*, and sealing the rift forever.
"Gives me some measure of hope that I'll see her again someday, though, I suppose," Ten concluded. "Whether in this incarnation or another will remain to be seen."
((OOC: *The synopsis of "Army of Ghosts" and "Doomsday" for those unfamiliar with the episodes.))
"You lost her?" He almost shouted, but then listened to the explination.
It was obvious this incarnation loved her as well, and, as he had, held himself apart. And she was alive. He was right, where there is life, there's hope.
"Tell me, does it hurt any less having kept your distance? S'not like we were ones to follow rules anyway. Must be in the blood."
Nine's eyes sparkled. Dear ol' dad had mixed mum's human genetic material into the looms, and even after it was mostly written over, there were still some traces of human. Like a belly button that had been the bane of his existance as a child.
"I had decided to make a try of it before the kidnapping, I admit. It's easier now, but," he tapped the file and shrugged,"for her sake I wish it weren't."
After all if you couldn't be honest with yourself, eh?
"You know the TARDIS is gonna turn into a bloody taxi service when we get out of here." Change the subject, divert from the painful. "I have to get River back where she belongs, cause we both know her lot in life, and Ripley's signed up. She doesn't belong here, or anywhere, realy. Then I had to open my gob and promise Rodney one trip. He's been itchin' to take a look at the TARDIS' mechanics, not that I'm gonna let him see too much. He's just bright enough to figure some of it out."
"And then there's Romana. Just knowing we're not alone..." He shook his head.
"Tell me, does it hurt any less having kept your distance? S'not like we were ones to follow rules anyway. Must be in the blood."
"No, I suppose that in the end it didn't." The words came easier to Nine than Ten could have spoken them to anyone else. He rationalized it as talking to himself. "I had the chance to tell her how I felt and . . . I ran out of time."
Ten gave a bark of laughter, sharp and bitter. "Imagine that? We're time lords! We have the whole of the universe from beginning to end, and I do mean to the end, at our fingertips and I ran out of time before I could tell Rose how I felt."
That was his one true regret. He never got to say the words that Rose deserved to hear.
"I learned though," Ten admitted, his eyes tracking Martha's progress across the beach. Naturally, the woman hadn't done as he'd instructed; she was no closer to taking a cooling swim than he was. However, she was mixing with the others stranded here. If he knew Martha, she was learning names and circumstances and everything that she could about them. She was finding a way to relate to all of them; it was one of the things he so admired about her.
He had learned though. It didn't hurt any less when you held them away than when you allowed yourself to get close. Losing Rose hurt; watching Martha walk out of the TARDIS had hurt, but it had taken him time to figure it all out. He tried to be more careful with Martha, to give her praise when she deserved it, to let her know that she was a friend and not just a wandering soul Ten chose for companionship.
"I lost Martha too, before I figured that out," Ten confessed. He watched his companion with a sad, proud smile, "She walked out on me, that one did. I might have even deserved it, but she came back eventually." It didn't seem pertinent to mention that it took a year and half, earth time, and that he'd practically hijacked her from her flat and cajoled her into a few trips before she decided to join him again.
Ten embraced the change of subject, "Martha and I have to get back to our own reality. I can still feel a connection to the TARDIS. It's odd, that. But, I can't get to her and she can't get to me. Maybe a few of these are from our world," Ten inclined his head toward the camp in general, "Martha and I could take them along, provided we could figure out which ones are which."
"Romana," The Doctor nodded, thinking about the Time Lady. "Amazing that she survived. I did spend so long knowing I was alone, and then to find her." Ten tilted his head up at the sky, "Shame she didn't turn up in my universe before the Master did. Or even when the Master did. Might have made things easier."
The Master. They had been friends once. Best friends. Even he would fill the void in his mind.
"If she's alive in this reality, and we diverted at the gamestation... then she is likely alive in your reality. Unless... unless we branched at the end." No need to say the end of what.
"The only way I can think that you can barely sense your TARDIS would be a pinhole. And that would be very, very bad. Because if it is, it's gonna expand. Maybe not now, but over a few years... anything could get through."
Right like Ten didn't know that. But then their mental patterns would be different.
"I'm wonderin', can you hear Rose in your head? Since her DNA was rewritten, we've had a telepathic and empathic link. I wondered if it worked with you as well."
"That pinhole both scares me and gives me hope," Ten said. It would grow, eventually, but hopefully he and Martha would be on their way home and closing it up behind them when that happened.
The twinge of mixed regret and envy came again at the mention of a link with Rose. (To not be alone in my head . . .)
"No, there's no one in there but me."
He opened the top folder, Rose's folder, "Tell me more about DHARMA."
Changing the subject was always a safe way around.
"We'll need the trousers now, Dr. Jones."
"What?!" Martha shrieked, speaking over whatever question Nine asked.
"Isn't like I haven't seen your knickers before," Ten patiently reminded her. Of course, she hadn't been wearing them at the time, and he'd spotted them in the laundry, but the words still held an element of truth.
"I wasn't wearing them at the time!" Martha's eyes widened and she made a sound somewhere between a gulp and a whimper - quite endearing really - before she rolled her eyes skyward. This close to her, Ten could see her complexion darkening with a lovely undercoat of red beneath the surface.
"Martha, your legs, I need to examine them." Ten said gently.
"I know!" Martha snapped out the words, her voice tight with tension and embarrassment.
All right then, maybe he had pushed it a bit much with the knickers remark. Humans and their sensitivities.
Speaking of which. . .
Ten stood, and looked around, then snatched up a blanket from the bed. He tossed it to Nine. "You, privacy curtain. Hold it up so that Martha doesn't have to worry that every bloke in the area is getting a glimpse at her pants.
"Also, screwdriver got completely fried when I ran into the Judoon," Ten easily picked up the trail of his earlier conversation. "Had to rebuild it, lost a few good settings, but I think I might have most of them back." While he talked he whipped out the screwdriver and tossed it like a baton. It kept his attention away from Martha as she continued to disrobe. However small, he knew it gave her some feeling of control and privacy.
"Mushroom really is the troubling bit. There's nothing to it, though. I scanned it thoroughly. No radio signals, no transmat receivers, no receivers or emitters of any kind. Just a stone mushroom."
"Might we get this over with, Doctor?"
Ten bit back a quip about the matching bra and knickers.
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(Of course that could just be because the Doctor is talking to himself while I'm lying about in my knickers.) Never mind the surrealism of that statement.
Martha stared at the top of the tent, grateful that she'd shaved her legs before they'd been tossed rudely into another universe, and hoped that her body didn't betray her with any outward indications of what the Doctor's touch did to her.
She might have accepted that she didn't stand a chance with the man alien, but she was only human and he was . . . well, he was The Doctor.
(Honestly, how long does it take to look for a few bug bites or puncture marks?)
"Why, Martha Jones, you are showing a bit of vanity." The Doctor's voice drew her attention to him, holding her left foot in his hand. He wiggled her big toe, "You color your toenails."
Martha gaped at him. (Inexplicable. Really, he is.) She snapped her jaw shut. "Doctor, is this really the time?"
"Ah, quite right." Ten slapped the bottom of her foot lightly. "Roll over. On your stomach."
A new realization and implication blossomed in her head and Martha really wished that she'd kept her mouth shut.
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Those rats weren't like anything I;ve seen before. So if someone is experimentin' with genetic crossbreeding or tryin' to outright build a better animal from the ground up, it could mean a toxin the innoculation didn't cover.
"So, Martha Jones, is he always this rude?"
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Ten released a very theatrical sigh. "I was only concerned about your modesty."
"This time." Martha dared to lift up on her elbows and look back over her shoulder at him. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that he truly was studying the backs of her legs. "I've told you that you really have to learn to play nice with the other children."
"Martha's clean, no bites or punctures," Ten declared, clearly ignoring her words. "Puts us back to square one with a non-specific fever, meaning a toxin or some mutagen or virus that we've not seen before."
Martha rolled over and swung her legs over the side of the bed and into a sitting position. She moved too quickly and had to close her eyes a moment as a wave of dizziness hit.
"Martha?" There was no mistaking the concern in her Doctor's voice, a supporting hand on her lower arm.
"'M all right," Martha opened her eyes. "Just sat up a bit too quickly." She held out her hand and fanned her fingers. Without missing a beat, Ten promptly handed her the discarded blue jeans. "So then, if it's a virus or toxin," Martha drew a breath and tried not to think too hard or focus too long on the possibilities and outcomes that swam to mind, "How come I'm the only person ill?"
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He waited until she pulled on her pants.
"I'll show you both the files we have on what they did to the four women they captured. Never hurts to get more brains workin' on it. Specially one more of me." He grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Then the grin fell.
"You haven't been exposed to nanogines recently, have you?"
Might not have swallowed the vortex, but if they built off what they may have learned from Rose, they might be able to turn dead ones on.
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"Nanogenes?" Martha asked. "There are nanogenes and you've never shown them to me?"
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, "You can take the doctor out of the scientist, but you can't take the scientist out of the doctor. You wouldn't want to see nanogenes, they can go a little bit mad sometimes." He picked up the thermometer again and waved it in the direction of House and Franklin, "Going to keep this for a bit to monitor Martha here."
"No, no nanogenes. Last place we were was back in 1969. Saw the moon landing on the telly. Nothing like the real thing at all." Ten clapped his hands together once and after pocketing the thermometer, said, "Let's see those files, then. Two more sets of eyes have to be good for something, and I'd hate to see Martha get bored."
Martha rolled her eyes, but her mouth twitched. "I'm not the one whose boredom we have to worry about."
He studied her for a second or two longer. Despite the fever, she did look well and she wasn't acting oddly. Ten would try not to worry too much, but getting her to take a swim if her fever showed no change in the next hour or so.
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Wasn't like he'd been compared to a hyperactive ten year old or anything. Just yesterday.
"Be back in a tick. By the way, I've been keepin' a close eye on Aaron, the infant you no doubt heard a bit ago. His mum was one of those they were toyin' with, including sedatives and some interesting chemicals just before he was born. But, as nothing has shown up so far, other than empathy, I'm not gonna make her spend her time frettin."
Nine walked back to the grass hut and found Rose was off.
/Rose?/
He sensed her direction and looked out the door.
/Weavin' with Molly and Sue. New people need floor coverin'. Go play with yourself./ humor flitted over the link.
Hmm... he wondered if his other self could 'hear' her. It was due to her link to the Tardis and the genetic changes brought on by Bad Wolf.
He pulled the files, each carefully sealled in large plastic zip bags, from the bottom of the woven chest.
He carried them back to the infirmary. Even if they didn't have any further theories or notice something the doctors, Rodney and Danny had missed, they would see what the opposition was capable of.
He set the thick files down on Martha's 'bed'. Rose's was on top.
"This is some of what they do. So you'll be more than a bit wary of suspicious symptoms round here."
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"What is?"
"This," Martha motioned to her body with her hand. "Whatever it is I've got. I'm a doctor, I know that non-specific fever isn't a good sign. High as you say it is and I'm not feeling any symptoms . . ."
"Might be a good thing, that," Ten immediately cut her off. "Means your body is fighting off whatever is you're dealing with. Soon as we get to the TARDIS, we'll find out what's really going on. Nothing we won't be able to tackle once we know what it is."
Martha wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself. They lapsed into silence, neither of them mentioning the threats of heat stroke or heat exhaustion that loomed with a high fever in a tropical environment. Ten wandered around the infirmary, looking through the medications and commenting on human technology, what medicines would exist in the future and what would be completely eliminated due to better medicines or even a lack of need for them. Martha's mouth turned up in a fond smile as she watched him. She let her walls down and let go of the mask, and simply adored the Doctor for being the Doctor, content in the knowledge that no one would see the writing on her face; Dr. Franklin was otherwise engaged and Dr. House wasn't interested in the goings-on within the infirmary.
Nine's arrival startled her and Martha flustered while she locked down her emotions and reactions again. Ten's hand atop of hers impeded her reach for the files. "Why don't we take these with us? Stop us from taking up space in the infirmary. I can look over them while you take that swim we were talking about."
"We weren't talking about a swim."
"Well, we should have," Ten grinned, gathering up the files and tucking them under his arm. "It'll cool you off. Might bring down your body temperature a bit." He turned his attention to Nine, "Mind if we take these with us? I know enough to keep them away from the water."
Though Martha was dying to get a look at those medical files, particularly the one labeled 'Tyler, Rose,' she saw the set of the Doctor's jaw and knew that she wouldn't get her hands on them at the moment. He thought that he was protecting her and would comb them over for any possibility of parallels to her condition before letting her look at them.
It was annoying; it was endearing.
"I have a better idea," Martha said. "Why don't you two Time Lords go play your Time Lord games, and I'll take a swim. Maybe by then, you'll be ready to let me have a look at them."
"You sure? You want to head off alone?"
"I'm a big girl, Doctor. I think I can handle it." She gave him a playful, chaste kiss on the cheek "I promise not to get lost or drown."
Ten pulled a face. "Don't even joke about that." The genuine hurt and worry in his eyes filled her with a bit of guilt. There was a vibe, an air about this place, and though he tried to hide it, Martha knew that the Doctor felt it too. (He wasn't around for Daniel's meeting, but he probably knows more than he's let on so far.)
That realization worried her.
"'M sorry," Martha apologized. "I'll be extra careful and won't go swimming alone. And I'll come straightway back and have myself examined by Dr. Franklin if I can't find you." She gave him a wink.
"Oh really, Dr. Jones, can't you see that the man has an infirmary to run? Save your mating dance for some other time." His mouth twitched into a smile and his eyes twinkled, but Martha still saw the flickering of worry beneath the surface.
Martha rolled her eyes theatrically and turned to Nine, "Keep him out of trouble, please."
She walked away, tossing a wave over her shoulder as she headed down the beach.
EXIT MARTHA
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The Doctor watched Martha walk down and talk to a bunch of people. Least she was bein' sensible. "Does she wander off? Wait, forget I asked. Course she does."
Nine lead the way to a spot with a log bench a bit away from the rest of the camp. It was within shouting distance, within sight, but allowed for something of privacy. Many a private conversation happened here, and more than a bit of cuddle.
"Suppose we both 'ave questions, then."
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Watching Martha walk away, the Doctor couldn't help but smile at the memory. He left out the fact that he'd been trying to keep her from ringing up her sister, Tish because he'd stolen the mobile in the midst of their gossip session and disconnected it.
Totally by accident, naturally. He simply couldn't wait to hear about Tish's wedding plans. Really.
(Saved myself from having to go back and hang about with the family while Martha tried on bridesmaid dresses.) A tickle of guilt sprang up at the thought. If they had gone back then, maybe they wouldn't be here now.
He followed Nine to the log, glad to see that it really was in sight of the camp. Not that he was worried that Martha might wander off, it just seemed best to keep her in sight considering her unusual fever.
"I suppose we both do," Ten agreed. He decided to be frank about it, there was no need to work up to the question or the conversation. "You and Rose, then and Rose is pregnant." It wasn't a question, but an observation. He used you as opposed to me because this version of himself wasn't him, and while Nine might someday regenerate to share the same appearance as Ten, it was already plainly clear that their lives shared two different paths.
Nine never lost Rose, and Ten would never get her back.
"Domestic, doesn't look good on us at all." It was said with cheek, because humor was how he coped.
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"I take it in your version of the time line, you were able to keep it from goin' that far. Maybe you didn't face the same things. She swallowed the time vortex, took all of it in to save me. An' we both know we never deserve that kind of... She accepted she could die doin' it. Almost did." He sighed. He didn't know when their timelines diverged. This was an alternate version, but a bit older. He wasn't certain when this one regenerated.
"An' here... they did their experiments for a week." He grinned, "An when we got there for our grand rescue, she had managed to not only escape but barricade herself and Claire, who was about ready to give birth, in the room with the exit. Clever girl even set up a trap with cookin' oil and a molotov cocktail and was ready to fight with a butcher knife." There was more than a little pride in his voice. Not at the violence, but that she'd escaped and kept her cool, rescuing another in the process.
"So yeah. Me and Rose. An' I found out recently, that it was pretty much already in the time line." Nine pointed down the beach where Rose was weaving mats with Molly and a child of about ten, only the child was obviously several hundred years old to anyone with any temporal sense. "You ever look at her an' get that nigglin' feelin? She reminds ya of someone, an' you think it's a hint of a future time line. But you can't track it so it has to be personal time line."
Nine's steel blue eyes met Ten's brown ones. "That wasn't it. Not that I was objective. But look at her jaw, her nose... when she tilts her head. Now picture her with black hair."
It was there, when you knew what you looked for. Not that they looked exactly alike, but the family resemblance was definitely there. "She's Susan's grandmother."
(OOC: oh, the angst and ebilness. LOL. Wait til Ten sees the painting.)
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"Oh, no I didn't stop it," Ten confessed. "That's where our timelines diverge." He didn't look at himself, or even at Rose as he told Nine how Rose took in the time vortex and how he took it from her and regenerated. Looking at Rose was too bittersweet and filled him with an odd feeling that he couldn't quite place. He felt envy and regret, loss, but the pang was muted somehow, weaker now. Ten had seen her, the living breathing flesh; she was whole and she was happy and that was all he could want for her.
"I'd say it's impossible, but I know enough about time to know that it isn't," Ten remarked as he tried ot to see Susan with Rose, looking at her for the first time, down the beach aways. He couldn't deny it when it was pointed out to him. It didn't change the reality, however. "I lost Rose."
"Not like that," Ten said before his other self could presume wrongly. "She's alive, safe. She's with her Mum and Pete. And Mickey." He went on to explain about the Cybermen and the Daleks*, and sealing the rift forever.
"Gives me some measure of hope that I'll see her again someday, though, I suppose," Ten concluded. "Whether in this incarnation or another will remain to be seen."
((OOC: *The synopsis of "Army of Ghosts" and "Doomsday" for those unfamiliar with the episodes.))
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It was obvious this incarnation loved her as well, and, as he had, held himself apart. And she was alive. He was right, where there is life, there's hope.
"Tell me, does it hurt any less having kept your distance? S'not like we were ones to follow rules anyway. Must be in the blood."
Nine's eyes sparkled. Dear ol' dad had mixed mum's human genetic material into the looms, and even after it was mostly written over, there were still some traces of human. Like a belly button that had been the bane of his existance as a child.
"I had decided to make a try of it before the kidnapping, I admit. It's easier now, but," he tapped the file and shrugged,"for her sake I wish it weren't."
After all if you couldn't be honest with yourself, eh?
"You know the TARDIS is gonna turn into a bloody taxi service when we get out of here." Change the subject, divert from the painful. "I have to get River back where she belongs, cause we both know her lot in life, and Ripley's signed up. She doesn't belong here, or anywhere, realy. Then I had to open my gob and promise Rodney one trip. He's been itchin' to take a look at the TARDIS' mechanics, not that I'm gonna let him see too much. He's just bright enough to figure some of it out."
"And then there's Romana. Just knowing we're not alone..." He shook his head.
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"No, I suppose that in the end it didn't." The words came easier to Nine than Ten could have spoken them to anyone else. He rationalized it as talking to himself. "I had the chance to tell her how I felt and . . . I ran out of time."
Ten gave a bark of laughter, sharp and bitter. "Imagine that? We're time lords! We have the whole of the universe from beginning to end, and I do mean to the end, at our fingertips and I ran out of time before I could tell Rose how I felt."
That was his one true regret. He never got to say the words that Rose deserved to hear.
"I learned though," Ten admitted, his eyes tracking Martha's progress across the beach. Naturally, the woman hadn't done as he'd instructed; she was no closer to taking a cooling swim than he was. However, she was mixing with the others stranded here. If he knew Martha, she was learning names and circumstances and everything that she could about them. She was finding a way to relate to all of them; it was one of the things he so admired about her.
He had learned though. It didn't hurt any less when you held them away than when you allowed yourself to get close. Losing Rose hurt; watching Martha walk out of the TARDIS had hurt, but it had taken him time to figure it all out. He tried to be more careful with Martha, to give her praise when she deserved it, to let her know that she was a friend and not just a wandering soul Ten chose for companionship.
"I lost Martha too, before I figured that out," Ten confessed. He watched his companion with a sad, proud smile, "She walked out on me, that one did. I might have even deserved it, but she came back eventually." It didn't seem pertinent to mention that it took a year and half, earth time, and that he'd practically hijacked her from her flat and cajoled her into a few trips before she decided to join him again.
Ten embraced the change of subject, "Martha and I have to get back to our own reality. I can still feel a connection to the TARDIS. It's odd, that. But, I can't get to her and she can't get to me. Maybe a few of these are from our world," Ten inclined his head toward the camp in general, "Martha and I could take them along, provided we could figure out which ones are which."
"Romana," The Doctor nodded, thinking about the Time Lady. "Amazing that she survived. I did spend so long knowing I was alone, and then to find her." Ten tilted his head up at the sky, "Shame she didn't turn up in my universe before the Master did. Or even when the Master did. Might have made things easier."
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"If she's alive in this reality, and we diverted at the gamestation... then she is likely alive in your reality. Unless... unless we branched at the end." No need to say the end of what.
"The only way I can think that you can barely sense your TARDIS would be a pinhole. And that would be very, very bad. Because if it is, it's gonna expand. Maybe not now, but over a few years... anything could get through."
Right like Ten didn't know that. But then their mental patterns would be different.
"I'm wonderin', can you hear Rose in your head? Since her DNA was rewritten, we've had a telepathic and empathic link. I wondered if it worked with you as well."
(OOC: up to you.)
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The twinge of mixed regret and envy came again at the mention of a link with Rose. (To not be alone in my head . . .)
"No, there's no one in there but me."
He opened the top folder, Rose's folder, "Tell me more about DHARMA."
Changing the subject was always a safe way around.
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