The 26th century? Susan assumed it was Earth. There was something comforting in knowing that there were other times where Earth would actually survive, or hell, maybe never have to deal with the threat that is the Shadows. Of course, then, that would beg the existence of the First Ones... and, well... the commander was military. That, she'd leave for better minds than her own as far as philosophy and physics was concerned.
"Good to know that my generation's great-great-great grandkids'll figure out what's important," Susan offered dryly. She wasn't an 'old fogey' when it came to music, really. She enjoyed it like everyone else. And as 'Achey Breaky Heart' came on, and the line of Chippendales... er... the 'men who were not quite sober so could dispense with such inhibitions like this' line formed, she had to finish with, "Disco is sounding oddly better."
Susan laughed, however, at the Doctor's admission of exiting, Stage Left, at the appearance of 26th century disco. How, exactly, the train of thought progressed to 'OMG, baby... have to tell someone' was a little beyond her ability to follow. This, she was sure, wasn't because he was a First One. "Okay... baby." Marcus had mentionned engagements and pregnancies.. "And Jackie is...?" She got it from the rest of the sentence, however... and shook her head, her brows rising, her tones turning deadpanned. "Nope. You're dead. Daughters are a big deal. Even moreso when they're pregnant. You think a mother dotes on a baby? Nowhere near how a mother dotes on a daughter who is going to be a mother."
"Jackie Tyler is the single most terrible force in the universe. Voice like a Harpy, disposition of a crocodile and a right hand that can break bone." He crossed his arms defensively. "I've faced some of the greatest terrors of the universe and they all quake before the horror that is Rose's mum. If she isn't making passes, she's slapping, and if she isn't slapping, she's trying to make you eat Sheppard's pie."
His face twisted at the thought.
And she was pretty much his.... mother-in-law. In all but deed. Maybe there was such a thing as Karma and his past misdeeds were finally catching up with him.
"You're right. I'm dead. She's gonna kill me with a frying pan and Sheppard's pie, and I'm gonna turn into HIM." He looked over to Rose and Ten. "I suddenly feel the need for increased alcohol consumption."
See? Susan can appreciate that. A good healthy fear is never a bad thing. She ran 'her' station with it. With everyone working under the firm belief that should something go wrong, Ivanova will find out, things ran a whole lot smoother than they could have. Sure, they'd still had strikes, and the Ambassadors were at times difficult, but some things just couldn't be helped.
She instantly decided she liked Rose's mother from the Doctor's description.
The smile never faded, then, all during the brief exposition on his 'in law'. Nodding, the commander scanned the immediate environs for a bottle that had already been cracked. There was no way she was going to share her vodka... not yet, anyway.
"I'm willing to bet that you can't really go back into your own history, do it the right way, then come forward again in your own reality?" There was, after all, only so much. Even the technomages really couldn't do it. They could look forward in time, see all the possibilities-- was he a technomage? She pressed her lips together, the smile still playing beneath, and couldn't help but repeat, "Yup. You're screwed."
She stretched out and scanned the immediate environs briefly before she returned her attention to the Doctor, and shrugged ever so slightly. "Of course, she could be like my grandmother, and once the initial shock was done, work to make up lost time and completely shut you out of the equation until she's done because she's too busy to give it a second thought. That might give you a chance for escape, or at least time to get your things in order before you--"
'...and I'm gonna turn into HIM...'
Susan glanced over at the figure of the other? Doctor, the one that'd arrived the same day she had, dancing with Rose. She studied the 'younger' Timelord (that's what they called themselves, after all) and sighed, a decision made. She leaned briefly over, pulled up her cherished bottle of vodka, and with a soft word in Russian, a blessing over the distilled goodness, cracked the top. She took a cup, put a couple of mouthfuls in and nudged Nine, handing him the cup before she found another, and, again, poured it enough for a couple swallows. Raising the cup, she looked at the First One, the smile lingering, and offered a brief toast, "Za vashe zdorovye.." then, again in Russian, "May we suffer as much sorrow as drops of vodka we are about to leave in our glasses," before emptying her cup. No need to understand what he was talking about for the moment. Later?
Feeling the burn, Susan closed her eyes momentarily. There were a few things in life that were almost as good as sex. Vodka was one of them...
[Stephen]cbeckett_mdNovember 28 2007, 15:25:56 UTC
Stephen has had food, and while the music is not necessarily to his taste he has been enjoying himself. He has mingled and danced, and even been dumped on his hind end by a formidable Russian.
Stephen's gaze travelled to said Russian and he watched for a moment the interaction between her and Nine. Stephen hadn't yet really met Nine so had yet to form a real opinion of him. He did see the look on Susan's face and decided that perhaps Nine needed an intervention. After all, these people did not know Susan Ivanova, so had no idea when they needed a rescue or not.
Stephen walked over and nudged Susan's shoulder slightly, "Hey, does he need to be rescued? I know that look. I have seen that look. That look makes Londo run in fear when he's sober." Stephen watched his friend for a moment and then looked over at Nine and gave him a sympathetic look, "Sorry man, you are so screwed."
That said Stephen glanced at the vodka bottle and then at Susan before holding out his cup, which was currently empty. Did anything more need to be said?
"No rescue quite yet, thanks." The Doctor took the offered cup. Seeing how Susan clung to her bottle, he understood the gesture made.
"And we've established that I am, indeed scr... in trouble. But not from Susan. Rose's mother, the terror of Great Briton, is going to kill me and turn me into that skinny fellow with... the hair. Once she finds out I've debauched her daughter and am making her a grandmother. She'll probobly ask if it'll have tenticles or something."
The Doctor drank the cup of vodka and took a burning swallow. Not bad.
"One thing remains the same across any species devides. That's a healthy fear of the mother-in-law."
"And no... no crossing your own timelines if you can avoid it. Paradoxes are deadly, usually beyond just the ones that cause them." He drew into himself. Not even to save a world.
Shaking it off he motioned for Stephen to have a seat.
Susan looked up, the gleam in her eye clearly present, as well as the smile that turned immediately theatrically innocent. No real hint of intoxication there; simply a more... relaxed manner as she raised a hand to place fingers on the center of her chest, her expression taking on a surprised and almost offended mien. "Me? Stephen... I'm hurt."
She smirked, sighed dramatically, then poured a couple of fingers of the distilled heaven into Stephen's cup. Nothing needed be said there, and she'd share with her friend. With the doctor's filled, however, she had a moral responsibility to give the Doctor another, and, of course, herself. Marcus was going to get away with not having any... for the moment. "And Londo never ran... he simply decided that a tactical retreat was preferable to trying to take me on blow for blow." There was a brief pause before she shrugged, looked into her cup, and smiled again. "That, in my book, made him both smarter and more dangerous." Which, in her mind, justified every move, every comment she'd ever made regarding the Centauri ambassador.
Susan looked up from her cup and nodded in agreement with the Doctor, shifting slightly. "Yes, Stephen, come sit down..." Said the spider to the fly? "Marcus found this somewhere, and now that it's cracked, the bottle needs a proper funeral and burial... after it's killed." A nod in gesture towards the Chippendales' line, the displaced commander had to laugh. "You're not anywhere near drunk enough to get up there." The unspoken 'yet' hung in the air. Depending upon the opportunities that came up in the next few hours, Susan had every intention of wreaking some semblance of revenge on the good doctor when the presented themselves. Ever vigilant, the Russian was.
"See, there's your mistake." Susan returned to the Doctor, "Family. Makes it a whole lot easier when the parents are gone. There goes the 'Where are we spending the holidays' talks... There goes the 'Mother is coming to visit and is staying the week' bombs." Her parents are gone, as are Marcus'. Siblings, too. All gone, leaving the pair essentially alone in the universe, but for their friends. Oddly enough, both she and the Ranger share that one on the island... and while it hasn't yet been too awkward, she could lay odds that it might in the future. The near future at that.
She laughed, however, at the description of 'the mother in law's reaction... and her brows rose, curiosity playing. "Tentacles? Will there be?" A glance was given to Stephen, an elbow nudge following it up. "I mean, you wouldn't be the first First One I've met that kept their 'true form' a secret."
Regardless--
There was vodka in cups that required emptying, and it was up to the Russian to see to it. "Budem zdorovy. To the party." She saluted the pair, offered her cup to be touched, inclinging it slightly, before raising it once more to empty it. In a single swallow once more, and she inhaled audibly but softly as she felt the familiar burn. She was going to miss this, but there was no avoiding it now that the bottle was cracked. The best she could do in 'saving' some was to leave a little for the hangover in the morning.
She looked at the dancing Doctor with Rose and back towards the one seated, her head canting slightly. "How exactly does that work? You ... actually turn into him, or is that just some strange turn of phrase?"
"Family... Thing is, I don't do domestic. Never have. Never made routine stops so any of my companions could visit with their families before. Don't know why I did with her." The Doctor stared into his cup, as if it held the answer. It couldn't even get him drunk unless he allowed it.
Of course, he must have been starting to fall after knowing her three days. Just standing on the edge, listening to that little voice telling him to do it, to jump, listening to the urge to fall.
For the first time he had nothing to loose, really, and he'd needed... something. Maybe he'd done it because he didn't have a home to go back to.
"And NO, it won't have tentacles. A binary vascular system, a respiratory bypass, internal differences, yeah. But this is my true form. Well, my tenth form."
He cocked his head a bit as he looked at Susan.
"Time Lords have a way of cheating death. If our bodies are damaged beyond repair, we change every cell in our bodies and take on a new form. Regeneration. Same memories, same essence, new look, new tastes, new personality quirks, because even our brain cells have been changed. I die... I turn into him." The Doctor pointed to Ten, who had evidently decided dancing to Achy Breaky wasn't really dancing at all. Most likely he'd hold out to til the next song.
"Skinny and on a perpetual caffeine high. And a pretty boy. He's... he's a bishy." Ten looked shocked, "And why do I even know what a bishy is?"
He was unknowingly demonstrating that a solid case of ADHD was evidently a trait that stayed through regeneration.
"And what's with the First One bit? Might be descended from one of the original sentient and civilized species, but much as the council would like to have others think so, we weren't the first. We were third or fourth. First were Guardians, only a few of them left. They mostly faded from physical form and took a less fettered existence by the time the Adematusians came into their power. Then came my lot and the ones you know as Vampires, also gone now. Kinda showed up at the same time, so no one knows who was third and who was fourth. But I suppose calling someone Third One or Fourth one is a bit less dramatic, isn't it? Sounds like the runner up, or the understudy.
"Doctor is just fine with me. It's my name. Although evidently people are deciding to call me Nine with Ten over there around. Bit confusing when you run into yourself. Do you refer to the other version in the first person or second? If you throttled yourself would it be suicide? I wonder if your psychologists would call it multiple personality disorder if they got three or four of us in a room? We rarely ever get along with ourselves."
Oh yes. He was also telegraphing the ability to talk someone to distraction also transcended bodies
Sitting nearby, Marcus couuldn't help but laugh at the Doctor's commentary.
He stood and moved to join the small group, holding out a small glass to Susan. "Mind if I join in?" he asked his fiancee, eyes only for her.
The headache he'd had the morning after their meal and engagement had only just worn off, but he wouldn't admit that to the world.
He turned those blue eyes to Stephen with a friendly smile, then to Nine. "You know, the reason we still call your race the First Ones is simlpy that you and those before you were among the first to explore the universe."
He tipped his glass in a little salute. Somehow he felt an affinity to this Doctor, more so than Ten... but liked both men.
"Earth rule..." Susan began after finishing her second cup of vodka. "Okay, Russian rule," she easily conceded this point. "You have to finish the second glass. We're almost there... One more." She leaned towards Stephen, her brows raised. "You're behind by one."
As she listened to the Doctor rattle on, creating for himself a web of monologue, Susan couldn't help the creeping sensation of annoyance. It wasn't a bitter, harsh one-- simply, she'd kill him if he was on her station, and she knew fair well that the Captain'd make her work with him. It'd have been her lot in life, the working off karmic debt. There was that knowledge, too, that he'd have two camps; one that drew to him like moths to a flame, and one that would see him as someone to be feared. The Commander chuckled, her tones dry, "I'd kill you myself just to find out, if you were on my station." It -was- interesting, however. She couldn't deny that. Who'd ever heard of an alien that could completely regenerate? Not even the Vorlons could, and they were.. not physical. Ambassador Kosh had actually been poisoned; they all worked on the belief the alien could die. No one had even considered the possibility that there was -that- particular ability..
Marcus' approach brought her regard up, her smile relighting. Not drunk yet, just a little tipsy, though she'd reached the 'relaxed' stage a little while ago. She smiled at the Ranger and shifted once more. Reaching up to pour the vodka for him, she was obviously compelled to recharge her own glass.
"Like Marcus said... and I actually payed attention at the meeting," Susan returned her attention to the Doctor, but glanced towards Marcus, allowing it to linger a moment before returning. The Ranger had attended the same meeting. "The Minbari had names for the races that traveled the universe long before we existed. Before they existed. There was a race, she'd said, that simply pulled themselves out of time and space, content to watch. They, actually, were the ones I was looking for when I went into the Great Machine on Epsilon 3." That experience was both exhilarating and frightening at the same time. "I saw huge footprints in the sand, where they'd walked. Worlds they'd touched and left. They'd said they'd always been there, and would be again."
"The amazing part of that was I actually went back in time before I left the machine. I have no idea how, and Draal said that no human should have been able to... but I did." Could it have been a function of her telepathy? "I saw the assassination of President Santiago, and I'd gotten the data-feed from President Clark that proved he'd been the one behind it." Mind, they'd gotten other bits of proof, but that was the last nail.
Susan chuckled, though, and nodded, though she wasn't going to let the Timelord off the hook in regards to the drink. "'Doctor' it is. Now it's your turn to drink. This is a party. And, in case no one's done it for you, the next drink is to 'health and happiness'." It would have been anyway, and he was going to need it.
Stephen laughed when the Doctor answered that he only feared Jackie Tyler, "You don't know Susan well. I do. And if she can get you drunk and into a completely undignified position then she will. It's the Russian way, and that is only the half of what she might do. She's downright viscious when she wants to be. See now me, I'm already a dead man so I don't have to worry too much, just accept my fate for what it is."
Stephen doesn't get the chance to ask about tentacles, since Susan beats him to the punch. The monologue about the Doctor's physiology has him perk up, "So, testing would reveal two different people, even though you are essentially the same person? Well sort of anyway... Fascinating." Stephen looked around at the gathered group, "Uhm, we'll have to discuss this all at another time. I doubt anyone else is as fascinated as I am." Amazingly enough the whole physiology thing did have Stephen practically bouncing. This is way more interesting then the time the Captain got possessed by an alien entity.
Stephen took a swig of his vodka when his cup was filled. He could meet Susan toast for toast until he passed out. "Well I suppose I will have to try and catch up then." With that Stephen downed the vodka in his cup, closing his eyes at the burn, "God that's good." He then held the cup out to Susan to be refilled. Hopefully no one would place themselves in mortal peril tonight since Stephen didn't have any oxy patches on him. This was going to hurt in the morning but Stephen didn't care. It was nice to be able to relax and know that there was no battle in the morning that would leave him with an aftermath he didn't want to see.
Stephen does sit down, mostly since he knows he'll be drinking a bit and it's probably prudent that he does so. Stephen doesn't mind the lesson in races near as much as Susan. The more the Doctor prattles on, the more he learns. At least with a few drinks in him he's finding Nine a bit less arrogant then Ten. If he was sober then it'd be hard to tell.
Stephen nodded to Marcus at his approach, "Sure, pull up a stump. The more helping empty that bottle the less likely I am to pass out drunk in her presence, which would be a dangerous thing for me. She's evil after all. I like her, but she's still evil."
The Doctor raised his cup to Susan's toast and tossed the alcohol back. "You should talk to Jack. There's this drink from the fiftieth century earth that he has an affinity for. Hypervodka. One drink will put your average human into a full on drunk. Two would start the onset of alcohol poisoning."
The Doctor looked at Stephen and his interest. "We could talk. Actually, we carry some of the DNA over each time, so there would be traces of me in him, as well as the traces of the others before in both os us. 75 Chromosomes, me, in 25 homogeneous triads. He'll have 78. Get's confusing when someone tries to scan DNA."
Noting he had lost everyone by Stephen, the Doctor shrugged and listened to Susan once more.
"pulled themselves out of time and space, content to watch." Raised an eyebrow.
"Sounds like my people." His eyes went dark again, haunted was the only word for it really. "Didn't precisely pull themselves out of time and space, my lot. Just existed in in all dimensions, no multiples for us, no alternites. And they looked into time, controlled it, just to watch. And they never touched other civilizations. Would be beneath them." He shook his head. As much as he hated their complacency, he still missed them. "'S why I left. Couldn't just watch. Had to get involved. Called me a rouge. Like that word. Makes me think of someone with a feather in a big hat."
He jumped back into humor, change of subject. "Rouge, that's me. I wore hats once. Not this time. I'd look silly with a feathered hat. Not enough hair to hold it up."
((Love Susan's reactions. He! At least she's being polite and not actually shooting him.)
Marcus stifled a smile and a laugh by draining his cup. Truthfully he wasn't really feeling like talking, just enjoying his friends' company was more than enough.
But when the Doctor called himself a rogue, he couldn't help but smile again. "Glad I'm not the only rogue here..."
[Ivanova] (Oh lookee... an entrance ready for Jack!)lost_mckayDecember 4 2007, 13:49:55 UTC
Susan's brows rose, the merriment dancing in her blue eyes, though they also held that mischief.. no... the promise of retaliation, though affectionate. One of the few people in the universe that she could count on... She did manage, however, an innocent... ish... expression at the description of her...
"Vicious? Vicious? Stephen... I only have the best intentions. I always give fair warning... and a person is never in doubt as to what exactly I will do should .. something happen." If you scan me, I will twist your head off and use it as a chamber pot! She smiles prettily and can't hold the laugh. "You can't say I've never given the person a way out..."
Susan refilled Stephen's cup after hers was drained, and waiting expectantly for the Doctor's to be emptied, she, too, charged his cup, whether he wanted it or not. The same went for Marcus'. She waited easily for the medical discussion to finish, or at least find a lull before the good medico pressed further. She knew that look.. it was the look of a man who pushed himself beyond to discover new things simply for the ability to be better than he was... and to be able to help any that might need it. Who knows? Maybe the 'regeneration' might be prevented with Stephen's care...
"Oh, Doctor.. he'll go on about this all night. He actually wanted to play home to an alien entity that hitched a ride with the Captain. It caused hallucinations, and played havoc with the station. Then, there was the Vendrisi..." Those gross aliens that were the historians of the universe... and walked amongst the stars.
Susan put out her hand, seeking to forestall Stephen. "Wait, wait... I'm vicious AND evil?" She put on one of her softer, more sultry tones, her words virtually purring, and dripping with amusement, "Wow... I didn't know you felt that way, Stephen. All this time, you were just waiting for me. I should have known when we danced that one time in Earhart's... You just really know how to sweep a girl off her feet."
The mention of the very existence of something claimed to be vodka's better, however, caused the Russian to turn to the Doctor, her brows rising in askance. "That's just... wrong. Hypervodka? That-that-that's... not right. I mean, we have dinners just around vodka. We have parties just for vodka. We-we-..." Oh, don't get her wrong, however. That is something that sparked a hint of interest as well, the expression couched within her objections. She'd read about Jack, however... and wasn't all that sure she'd want to get drunk with him. "You wouldn't happen to have any around tonight? Just to try, that is..." Not that proud.
Leaning a little against Marcus, the action subtle, but remarkable for any who might know her, she nodded at the Doctor in the 'tale' of his people. "Then there wasn't a chance." Her own features darkened, a touch of ... something hitting her eyes. Two days ago... and the memory was still muffled. What the hell was going on? She glanced at Stephen, but the decision was quickly made to let it go until morning. She trusted the doctor would tell her should any progress be made.
A ... feathered hat? She returned her attention to the Doctor, her expression shifting such that anyone watching would believe that Susan saw not one, not two, but three heads sprouting from the Timelord. Where the hell did that come from? Russians didn't have feathered-hat rogues. They had... Mongols and Cossacks... "Who wore feathered hats?" She couldn't help but laugh at the image, but-- she was a little confused on that bit of Earth history. Whose was it?
Straightening from her ever so slight lean on the Ranger, her brows rose as well, the mirth easily playing in her eyes, reflecting in her tones as she looked at him. "Rogue? More like--"
[Stephen] Marry me Susan?cbeckett_mdDecember 4 2007, 15:16:44 UTC
Stephen was definitely interested in the medical discussion and likely Susan could tell the man was practically bouncing at the idea of discussing DNA. The Doctor's change of subject and Susan's comments caused him to feel the need to defend himself, or defend someone anyway, "Hey the Vendrizi are historians and Marcus is the one who dragged me into that one, so blame him. As far as the Captain, I can't help it. It was fascinating once we knew he wasn't any crazier then he had been before his little trip into areas of the station Michael told him not to go into."
Stephen does take note of the lean. He knows Susan and Marcus both well and the subtle action goes unremarked upon but was not missed. Of course Susan's comments about Stepehen's feelings cause a gleam to enter the man's eyes. He's already a dead man, so how much worse could it get?
Stephen's gaze focused entirely on Susan. The man could be a ham when he wanted to be and this was one of those times. He took a swig of his newly poured vodka to 'steel his courage' and then placed a hand over his heart, "Oh Susan, you figured me out. I knew you would one day. We aren't on the station anymore so my feelings for you can now take flight." Stephen moves to one knee in front of Susan and reaches to take her right hand in his, "Susan Ivanova, daughter of Andrei and Sofie Ivanov, will you marry me?" Anyone who doesn't know the man would think this was an entirely serious proposal. His features give nothing away and neither does the tone in his voice. His eyes are only for Susan right now, largely because looking at anyone else would probably make him bust out laughing.
Stephen had several reasons for taking Susan's right hand in his. He knew that Russians wore their rings on their right, not their left and that worked in his favor, because she was right handed. When Susan's hand twitched in an effort to smack Stephen, he just held the hand a little tighter. He couldn't let her ruin a perfectly good marriage proposal with smack he would feel in the morning.
For a moment... a very long moment, Marcus felt his cheeks flaming in anger.
It was a jealous, hot anger, but he knew those little twitches in Stephen's jaw which soon cooled him.
He turned with a sly smile to Stephen. "Do you mind?" he added archly "that's my fiancee you're talking to."
He tried. Oh, how he tried to keep the grin off his face, but somehow the joy from last night, at the memory that Susan had said yes, made his eyes gleam and a large grin crept in.
Stephen wasn't a stupid man... his taking Susan's right hand certainly assured that the doctor could be sure that she wouldn't cuff him there and then. At the proposal, her brows shot up into her hairline in surprise, an amused smile playing as she stared at him.
Marcus' response, however, caught her off-guard. He'd known her for, what was it that she'd been told? Four years? She'd known him for six, seven months... and there were certain things that she expected, having watched him for that length of time. That, however, just wasn't one of them. As quickly as it came, however, Susan could feel it recede and recognize it exactly as it was meant-- all in fun. That didn't mean that there wouldn't be some sort of retaliation, after all. Opening her mouth to reply, Marcus' response beat hers, effectively making the announcement.
Amusingly enough, Susan had the feeling that such a remark was going to be lost to the levity of the entire situation, and there was no way Stephen was actually going to believe it. After all, would she?
"Wow, Stephen... Garibaldi wouldn't have you, and now you're looking for 'second best'? I'm flattered... no, really." She paused for a beat, and continued, "I am."
"Good to know that my generation's great-great-great grandkids'll figure out what's important," Susan offered dryly. She wasn't an 'old fogey' when it came to music, really. She enjoyed it like everyone else. And as 'Achey Breaky Heart' came on, and the line of Chippendales... er... the 'men who were not quite sober so could dispense with such inhibitions like this' line formed, she had to finish with, "Disco is sounding oddly better."
Susan laughed, however, at the Doctor's admission of exiting, Stage Left, at the appearance of 26th century disco. How, exactly, the train of thought progressed to 'OMG, baby... have to tell someone' was a little beyond her ability to follow. This, she was sure, wasn't because he was a First One. "Okay... baby." Marcus had mentionned engagements and pregnancies.. "And Jackie is...?" She got it from the rest of the sentence, however... and shook her head, her brows rising, her tones turning deadpanned. "Nope. You're dead. Daughters are a big deal. Even moreso when they're pregnant. You think a mother dotes on a baby? Nowhere near how a mother dotes on a daughter who is going to be a mother."
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His face twisted at the thought.
And she was pretty much his.... mother-in-law. In all but deed. Maybe there was such a thing as Karma and his past misdeeds were finally catching up with him.
"You're right. I'm dead. She's gonna kill me with a frying pan and Sheppard's pie, and I'm gonna turn into HIM." He looked over to Rose and Ten. "I suddenly feel the need for increased alcohol consumption."
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She instantly decided she liked Rose's mother from the Doctor's description.
The smile never faded, then, all during the brief exposition on his 'in law'. Nodding, the commander scanned the immediate environs for a bottle that had already been cracked. There was no way she was going to share her vodka... not yet, anyway.
"I'm willing to bet that you can't really go back into your own history, do it the right way, then come forward again in your own reality?" There was, after all, only so much. Even the technomages really couldn't do it. They could look forward in time, see all the possibilities-- was he a technomage? She pressed her lips together, the smile still playing beneath, and couldn't help but repeat, "Yup. You're screwed."
She stretched out and scanned the immediate environs briefly before she returned her attention to the Doctor, and shrugged ever so slightly. "Of course, she could be like my grandmother, and once the initial shock was done, work to make up lost time and completely shut you out of the equation until she's done because she's too busy to give it a second thought. That might give you a chance for escape, or at least time to get your things in order before you--"
'...and I'm gonna turn into HIM...'
Susan glanced over at the figure of the other? Doctor, the one that'd arrived the same day she had, dancing with Rose. She studied the 'younger' Timelord (that's what they called themselves, after all) and sighed, a decision made. She leaned briefly over, pulled up her cherished bottle of vodka, and with a soft word in Russian, a blessing over the distilled goodness, cracked the top. She took a cup, put a couple of mouthfuls in and nudged Nine, handing him the cup before she found another, and, again, poured it enough for a couple swallows. Raising the cup, she looked at the First One, the smile lingering, and offered a brief toast, "Za vashe zdorovye.." then, again in Russian, "May we suffer as much sorrow as drops of vodka we are about to leave in our glasses," before emptying her cup. No need to understand what he was talking about for the moment. Later?
Feeling the burn, Susan closed her eyes momentarily. There were a few things in life that were almost as good as sex. Vodka was one of them...
Definitely a 'get out of jail free' card.
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Stephen's gaze travelled to said Russian and he watched for a moment the interaction between her and Nine. Stephen hadn't yet really met Nine so had yet to form a real opinion of him. He did see the look on Susan's face and decided that perhaps Nine needed an intervention. After all, these people did not know Susan Ivanova, so had no idea when they needed a rescue or not.
Stephen walked over and nudged Susan's shoulder slightly, "Hey, does he need to be rescued? I know that look. I have seen that look. That look makes Londo run in fear when he's sober." Stephen watched his friend for a moment and then looked over at Nine and gave him a sympathetic look, "Sorry man, you are so screwed."
That said Stephen glanced at the vodka bottle and then at Susan before holding out his cup, which was currently empty. Did anything more need to be said?
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"And we've established that I am, indeed scr... in trouble. But not from Susan. Rose's mother, the terror of Great Briton, is going to kill me and turn me into that skinny fellow with... the hair. Once she finds out I've debauched her daughter and am making her a grandmother. She'll probobly ask if it'll have tenticles or something."
The Doctor drank the cup of vodka and took a burning swallow. Not bad.
"One thing remains the same across any species devides. That's a healthy fear of the mother-in-law."
"And no... no crossing your own timelines if you can avoid it. Paradoxes are deadly, usually beyond just the ones that cause them." He drew into himself. Not even to save a world.
Shaking it off he motioned for Stephen to have a seat.
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She smirked, sighed dramatically, then poured a couple of fingers of the distilled heaven into Stephen's cup. Nothing needed be said there, and she'd share with her friend. With the doctor's filled, however, she had a moral responsibility to give the Doctor another, and, of course, herself. Marcus was going to get away with not having any... for the moment. "And Londo never ran... he simply decided that a tactical retreat was preferable to trying to take me on blow for blow." There was a brief pause before she shrugged, looked into her cup, and smiled again. "That, in my book, made him both smarter and more dangerous." Which, in her mind, justified every move, every comment she'd ever made regarding the Centauri ambassador.
Susan looked up from her cup and nodded in agreement with the Doctor, shifting slightly. "Yes, Stephen, come sit down..." Said the spider to the fly? "Marcus found this somewhere, and now that it's cracked, the bottle needs a proper funeral and burial... after it's killed." A nod in gesture towards the Chippendales' line, the displaced commander had to laugh. "You're not anywhere near drunk enough to get up there." The unspoken 'yet' hung in the air. Depending upon the opportunities that came up in the next few hours, Susan had every intention of wreaking some semblance of revenge on the good doctor when the presented themselves. Ever vigilant, the Russian was.
"See, there's your mistake." Susan returned to the Doctor, "Family. Makes it a whole lot easier when the parents are gone. There goes the 'Where are we spending the holidays' talks... There goes the 'Mother is coming to visit and is staying the week' bombs." Her parents are gone, as are Marcus'. Siblings, too. All gone, leaving the pair essentially alone in the universe, but for their friends. Oddly enough, both she and the Ranger share that one on the island... and while it hasn't yet been too awkward, she could lay odds that it might in the future. The near future at that.
She laughed, however, at the description of 'the mother in law's reaction... and her brows rose, curiosity playing. "Tentacles? Will there be?" A glance was given to Stephen, an elbow nudge following it up. "I mean, you wouldn't be the first First One I've met that kept their 'true form' a secret."
Regardless--
There was vodka in cups that required emptying, and it was up to the Russian to see to it. "Budem zdorovy. To the party." She saluted the pair, offered her cup to be touched, inclinging it slightly, before raising it once more to empty it. In a single swallow once more, and she inhaled audibly but softly as she felt the familiar burn. She was going to miss this, but there was no avoiding it now that the bottle was cracked. The best she could do in 'saving' some was to leave a little for the hangover in the morning.
She looked at the dancing Doctor with Rose and back towards the one seated, her head canting slightly. "How exactly does that work? You ... actually turn into him, or is that just some strange turn of phrase?"
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Of course, he must have been starting to fall after knowing her three days. Just standing on the edge, listening to that little voice telling him to do it, to jump, listening to the urge to fall.
For the first time he had nothing to loose, really, and he'd needed... something. Maybe he'd done it because he didn't have a home to go back to.
"And NO, it won't have tentacles. A binary vascular system, a respiratory bypass, internal differences, yeah. But this is my true form. Well, my tenth form."
He cocked his head a bit as he looked at Susan.
"Time Lords have a way of cheating death. If our bodies are damaged beyond repair, we change every cell in our bodies and take on a new form. Regeneration. Same memories, same essence, new look, new tastes, new personality quirks, because even our brain cells have been changed. I die... I turn into him." The Doctor pointed to Ten, who had evidently decided dancing to Achy Breaky wasn't really dancing at all. Most likely he'd hold out to til the next song.
"Skinny and on a perpetual caffeine high. And a pretty boy. He's... he's a bishy." Ten looked shocked, "And why do I even know what a bishy is?"
He was unknowingly demonstrating that a solid case of ADHD was evidently a trait that stayed through regeneration.
"And what's with the First One bit? Might be descended from one of the original sentient and civilized species, but much as the council would like to have others think so, we weren't the first. We were third or fourth. First were Guardians, only a few of them left. They mostly faded from physical form and took a less fettered existence by the time the Adematusians came into their power. Then came my lot and the ones you know as Vampires, also gone now. Kinda showed up at the same time, so no one knows who was third and who was fourth. But I suppose calling someone Third One or Fourth one is a bit less dramatic, isn't it? Sounds like the runner up, or the understudy.
"Doctor is just fine with me. It's my name. Although evidently people are deciding to call me Nine with Ten over there around. Bit confusing when you run into yourself. Do you refer to the other version in the first person or second? If you throttled yourself would it be suicide? I wonder if your psychologists would call it multiple personality disorder if they got three or four of us in a room? We rarely ever get along with ourselves."
Oh yes. He was also telegraphing the ability to talk someone to distraction also transcended bodies
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He stood and moved to join the small group, holding out a small glass to Susan. "Mind if I join in?" he asked his fiancee, eyes only for her.
The headache he'd had the morning after their meal and engagement had only just worn off, but he wouldn't admit that to the world.
He turned those blue eyes to Stephen with a friendly smile, then to Nine. "You know, the reason we still call your race the First Ones is simlpy that you and those before you were among the first to explore the universe."
He tipped his glass in a little salute. Somehow he felt an affinity to this Doctor, more so than Ten... but liked both men.
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As she listened to the Doctor rattle on, creating for himself a web of monologue, Susan couldn't help the creeping sensation of annoyance. It wasn't a bitter, harsh one-- simply, she'd kill him if he was on her station, and she knew fair well that the Captain'd make her work with him. It'd have been her lot in life, the working off karmic debt. There was that knowledge, too, that he'd have two camps; one that drew to him like moths to a flame, and one that would see him as someone to be feared. The Commander chuckled, her tones dry, "I'd kill you myself just to find out, if you were on my station." It -was- interesting, however. She couldn't deny that. Who'd ever heard of an alien that could completely regenerate? Not even the Vorlons could, and they were.. not physical. Ambassador Kosh had actually been poisoned; they all worked on the belief the alien could die. No one had even considered the possibility that there was -that- particular ability..
Marcus' approach brought her regard up, her smile relighting. Not drunk yet, just a little tipsy, though she'd reached the 'relaxed' stage a little while ago. She smiled at the Ranger and shifted once more. Reaching up to pour the vodka for him, she was obviously compelled to recharge her own glass.
"Like Marcus said... and I actually payed attention at the meeting," Susan returned her attention to the Doctor, but glanced towards Marcus, allowing it to linger a moment before returning. The Ranger had attended the same meeting. "The Minbari had names for the races that traveled the universe long before we existed. Before they existed. There was a race, she'd said, that simply pulled themselves out of time and space, content to watch. They, actually, were the ones I was looking for when I went into the Great Machine on Epsilon 3." That experience was both exhilarating and frightening at the same time. "I saw huge footprints in the sand, where they'd walked. Worlds they'd touched and left. They'd said they'd always been there, and would be again."
"The amazing part of that was I actually went back in time before I left the machine. I have no idea how, and Draal said that no human should have been able to... but I did." Could it have been a function of her telepathy? "I saw the assassination of President Santiago, and I'd gotten the data-feed from President Clark that proved he'd been the one behind it." Mind, they'd gotten other bits of proof, but that was the last nail.
Susan chuckled, though, and nodded, though she wasn't going to let the Timelord off the hook in regards to the drink. "'Doctor' it is. Now it's your turn to drink. This is a party. And, in case no one's done it for you, the next drink is to 'health and happiness'." It would have been anyway, and he was going to need it.
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Stephen doesn't get the chance to ask about tentacles, since Susan beats him to the punch. The monologue about the Doctor's physiology has him perk up, "So, testing would reveal two different people, even though you are essentially the same person? Well sort of anyway... Fascinating." Stephen looked around at the gathered group, "Uhm, we'll have to discuss this all at another time. I doubt anyone else is as fascinated as I am." Amazingly enough the whole physiology thing did have Stephen practically bouncing. This is way more interesting then the time the Captain got possessed by an alien entity.
Stephen took a swig of his vodka when his cup was filled. He could meet Susan toast for toast until he passed out. "Well I suppose I will have to try and catch up then." With that Stephen downed the vodka in his cup, closing his eyes at the burn, "God that's good." He then held the cup out to Susan to be refilled. Hopefully no one would place themselves in mortal peril tonight since Stephen didn't have any oxy patches on him. This was going to hurt in the morning but Stephen didn't care. It was nice to be able to relax and know that there was no battle in the morning that would leave him with an aftermath he didn't want to see.
Stephen does sit down, mostly since he knows he'll be drinking a bit and it's probably prudent that he does so. Stephen doesn't mind the lesson in races near as much as Susan. The more the Doctor prattles on, the more he learns. At least with a few drinks in him he's finding Nine a bit less arrogant then Ten. If he was sober then it'd be hard to tell.
Stephen nodded to Marcus at his approach, "Sure, pull up a stump. The more helping empty that bottle the less likely I am to pass out drunk in her presence, which would be a dangerous thing for me. She's evil after all. I like her, but she's still evil."
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The Doctor looked at Stephen and his interest. "We could talk. Actually, we carry some of the DNA over each time, so there would be traces of me in him, as well as the traces of the others before in both os us. 75 Chromosomes, me, in 25 homogeneous triads. He'll have 78. Get's confusing when someone tries to scan DNA."
Noting he had lost everyone by Stephen, the Doctor shrugged and listened to Susan once more.
"pulled themselves out of time and space, content to watch." Raised an eyebrow.
"Sounds like my people." His eyes went dark again, haunted was the only word for it really. "Didn't precisely pull themselves out of time and space, my lot. Just existed in in all dimensions, no multiples for us, no alternites. And they looked into time, controlled it, just to watch. And they never touched other civilizations. Would be beneath them." He shook his head. As much as he hated their complacency, he still missed them. "'S why I left. Couldn't just watch. Had to get involved. Called me a rouge. Like that word. Makes me think of someone with a feather in a big hat."
He jumped back into humor, change of subject. "Rouge, that's me. I wore hats once. Not this time. I'd look silly with a feathered hat. Not enough hair to hold it up."
((Love Susan's reactions. He! At least she's being polite and not actually shooting him.)
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But when the Doctor called himself a rogue, he couldn't help but smile again. "Glad I'm not the only rogue here..."
He cast an impish grin at Susan then Stephen.
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"Vicious? Vicious? Stephen... I only have the best intentions. I always give fair warning... and a person is never in doubt as to what exactly I will do should .. something happen." If you scan me, I will twist your head off and use it as a chamber pot! She smiles prettily and can't hold the laugh. "You can't say I've never given the person a way out..."
Susan refilled Stephen's cup after hers was drained, and waiting expectantly for the Doctor's to be emptied, she, too, charged his cup, whether he wanted it or not. The same went for Marcus'. She waited easily for the medical discussion to finish, or at least find a lull before the good medico pressed further. She knew that look.. it was the look of a man who pushed himself beyond to discover new things simply for the ability to be better than he was... and to be able to help any that might need it. Who knows? Maybe the 'regeneration' might be prevented with Stephen's care...
"Oh, Doctor.. he'll go on about this all night. He actually wanted to play home to an alien entity that hitched a ride with the Captain. It caused hallucinations, and played havoc with the station. Then, there was the Vendrisi..." Those gross aliens that were the historians of the universe... and walked amongst the stars.
Susan put out her hand, seeking to forestall Stephen. "Wait, wait... I'm vicious AND evil?" She put on one of her softer, more sultry tones, her words virtually purring, and dripping with amusement, "Wow... I didn't know you felt that way, Stephen. All this time, you were just waiting for me. I should have known when we danced that one time in Earhart's... You just really know how to sweep a girl off her feet."
The mention of the very existence of something claimed to be vodka's better, however, caused the Russian to turn to the Doctor, her brows rising in askance. "That's just... wrong. Hypervodka? That-that-that's... not right. I mean, we have dinners just around vodka. We have parties just for vodka. We-we-..." Oh, don't get her wrong, however. That is something that sparked a hint of interest as well, the expression couched within her objections. She'd read about Jack, however... and wasn't all that sure she'd want to get drunk with him. "You wouldn't happen to have any around tonight? Just to try, that is..." Not that proud.
Leaning a little against Marcus, the action subtle, but remarkable for any who might know her, she nodded at the Doctor in the 'tale' of his people. "Then there wasn't a chance." Her own features darkened, a touch of ... something hitting her eyes. Two days ago... and the memory was still muffled. What the hell was going on? She glanced at Stephen, but the decision was quickly made to let it go until morning. She trusted the doctor would tell her should any progress be made.
A ... feathered hat? She returned her attention to the Doctor, her expression shifting such that anyone watching would believe that Susan saw not one, not two, but three heads sprouting from the Timelord. Where the hell did that come from? Russians didn't have feathered-hat rogues. They had... Mongols and Cossacks... "Who wore feathered hats?" She couldn't help but laugh at the image, but-- she was a little confused on that bit of Earth history. Whose was it?
Straightening from her ever so slight lean on the Ranger, her brows rose as well, the mirth easily playing in her eyes, reflecting in her tones as she looked at him. "Rogue? More like--"
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Stephen does take note of the lean. He knows Susan and Marcus both well and the subtle action goes unremarked upon but was not missed. Of course Susan's comments about Stepehen's feelings cause a gleam to enter the man's eyes. He's already a dead man, so how much worse could it get?
Stephen's gaze focused entirely on Susan. The man could be a ham when he wanted to be and this was one of those times. He took a swig of his newly poured vodka to 'steel his courage' and then placed a hand over his heart, "Oh Susan, you figured me out. I knew you would one day. We aren't on the station anymore so my feelings for you can now take flight." Stephen moves to one knee in front of Susan and reaches to take her right hand in his, "Susan Ivanova, daughter of Andrei and Sofie Ivanov, will you marry me?" Anyone who doesn't know the man would think this was an entirely serious proposal. His features give nothing away and neither does the tone in his voice. His eyes are only for Susan right now, largely because looking at anyone else would probably make him bust out laughing.
Stephen had several reasons for taking Susan's right hand in his. He knew that Russians wore their rings on their right, not their left and that worked in his favor, because she was right handed. When Susan's hand twitched in an effort to smack Stephen, he just held the hand a little tighter. He couldn't let her ruin a perfectly good marriage proposal with smack he would feel in the morning.
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It was a jealous, hot anger, but he knew those little twitches in Stephen's jaw which soon cooled him.
He turned with a sly smile to Stephen. "Do you mind?" he added archly "that's my fiancee you're talking to."
He tried. Oh, how he tried to keep the grin off his face, but somehow the joy from last night, at the memory that Susan had said yes, made his eyes gleam and a large grin crept in.
He waited for the pennies to drop.
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Marcus' response, however, caught her off-guard. He'd known her for, what was it that she'd been told? Four years? She'd known him for six, seven months... and there were certain things that she expected, having watched him for that length of time. That, however, just wasn't one of them. As quickly as it came, however, Susan could feel it recede and recognize it exactly as it was meant-- all in fun. That didn't mean that there wouldn't be some sort of retaliation, after all. Opening her mouth to reply, Marcus' response beat hers, effectively making the announcement.
Amusingly enough, Susan had the feeling that such a remark was going to be lost to the levity of the entire situation, and there was no way Stephen was actually going to believe it. After all, would she?
"Wow, Stephen... Garibaldi wouldn't have you, and now you're looking for 'second best'? I'm flattered... no, really." She paused for a beat, and continued, "I am."
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