Ring Around the Rosie, Chapter 5/?
Title: Ring Around the Rosie
Author: onabearskinrug
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose with Jack, Mickey, Jake, Pete, Jackie, and others
Rating: Teen
Summary: The Doctor and Jack are stranded in London when the TARDIS malfunctions and, based on the Doctor's alien gifts, open a psychic detective agency. When an old serial killer comes out to play, it's up to our heroes and DI Rose Tyler to play his deadly game before any more lives are lost.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or the amazingly brilliant Psych.
A/N: I've been watching too much Psych lately, and this little bunny popped into my head. Mega thanks to the gorgeous and amazing timelord1, kelkat9, and who_in_whoville for encouraging me to wander a bit out of my comfort zone, and ultra-mega thanks to who_in_whoville for coming up with the awesome title! Oh, and fannishliss for inspiring the awesome puzzle ring angle and helping me with all my metalworking issues! Also, timelord1 wrote the second puzzle clue cause I had serious writer's block and cause she's amazing :-)
Also, if anyone is familiar with investigation procedure and whatnot, I'd love some help to make this more realistic. Most of what I have here I picked up from TV, or I'm just making up my own protocol. Would anyone like to serve as my sounding board? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? :-)
Catch up:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
While they were waiting for dinner to be delivered, Rose and Mickey began conducting their impromptu meeting. Mickey shared what they had accomplished that day, including Jack’s translations of the code inscribed on both rings, the DNA they’d found under Jocelyn’s fingernails, and the metal analysis from the lab.
“We already ran the DNA,” he told her. “No matches in the system, but that just means there were no prior arrests that required DNA samples. Odd, considering that we’re dealing with a psychopath. If we have a suspect in custody we’ll at least be able to run a match. The metals in the rings were identical, and we’ll be able to get in touch with some suppliers to get a list of clients who placed that particular order. And Jack cracked the code inside the rings for the riddles. I gotta say, they’re kinda creepy and don’t really give us any information. You?”
“Well, we’ve got statements from Jocelyn’s friends and co-workers,” Rose shared. “I dunno, boys. This is starting to sound suspiciously like a murder investigation.”
The three men around the table whooped enthusiastically and Rose laughed. Of course, Chief Tyler chose that moment to peek into the room, his stern expression turning to delight when his eyes set upon the coffee and treats. “I was going to tell you lot to conduct yourself a bit more like officers of the law, but if I can have some of that you can throw a kegger for all I care.”
Rose giggled. “Last coffee’s all yours, Chief. I think Eleanor sent a lemon pound cake for you, too.”
“Angel, she is.” Pete grabbed the coffee and pastry before sitting down with the group. “So, what’s the status?”
“Looks like it was a good, productive day that we’re going to turn into a good, productive night,” Mickey answered, the rest of the group groaning. “Oh, shut it. Not like you weren’t expecting it. Round table, let’s put it all out there. Rose? Doctor? What’d you get for us?”
“The interviews were a bust, in my opinion,” Rose answered. “You didn’t get anything from the friends or coworkers, did you, Doctor?”
“Nah,” he answered, taking a sip of his tea. “I don’t need to be a telepath to know they didn’t have anything to do with it. No one was lying or nervous, everyone was truly distraught. We can rule out any of them as suspects.”
“Jocelyn was working on a pretty high-profile divorce,” Rose told them, pulling a file out of her bag and passing it to Jake. “She was representing a big CEO’s wife. They were trying to find proof of adultery. If she were successful, the prenuptial agreement would be void and the wife would be entitled to equitable division of the assets. Or a boatload of money.”
“Do you think he’s worth looking in to?” Pete asked.
“Maybe, just to be thorough,” Rose said. “But honestly, I don’t think there’s a lot there. Especially with all the evidence that’s linking Lara’s and Jocelyn’s murders together. Still, you might want to send a PC down to ask a few questions.”
“I agree,” Mickey seconded. “We don’t want to waste more manpower than we have to. Jack had some success with the coding. Jack?”
“Yeah,” he began, taking a deep breath. “These seem to be the same format as last time. Little rhymes, same number of lines as rings in the puzzle, followed by a deadline. First deadline coincided with the date of Jocelyn’s murder. ’The foe has emerged with cunning and wit/to challenge the mystic who has emerged from the mist/To find me you must pull the sword from the stone/Find your weapon or the princess will atone/30 Days.’ It’s pretty obvious what he’s going for here. The second one was five lines, since the puzzle was more complex. ’There once was a wizard in London/Whose genius could never be undone/When a princess he saw/He outsmarted the law/And bashed in her head with a truncheon/14 Days.’”
A visible shudder ran through the group. “We’re dealing with a sicko here,” Jake murmured.
“Yeah,” Mickey agreed, shaking his head slightly before turning back to Rose and the Doctor. “So we have two weeks to find this guy before he strikes again?”
“Same as last time,” Pete mused. “Thirty days, two weeks. If we can’t find him, next one will give us one week. This is either the same guy, maybe his apprentice, or a very thorough copycat.”
“And these clues are just as vague and unhelpful as the last set, too,” Jake told them, tossing a bunch of case files on the table. “He claimed that everything you needed to find him is in the rings.”
“Yeah, well, he’s also a dangerous serial killer,” the Doctor piped up, a hard edge to his voice. “Forgive me if I don’t believe everything he tells us.”
Rose, seemingly without thought, laid a hand over his under the table and squeezed it comfortingly before speaking again. “What about forensics? Have they finished with Jocelyn’s apartment yet?”
“Colin said they’re on their way. I trust this won’t affect your work, Rose?” Mickey asked her with a teasing grin.
“Shut up,” she murmured, rolling her eyes. “He asked me out once…”
“More like five times,” he replied. “The last time he asked you to marry him.”
“He didn’t!” Jack interjected. “Colin from forensics? The gorgeous ginger kid with the green eyes? And you didn’t say yes?”
“He’s ginger?” the Doctor said, sounding envious.
“He did not ask me to marry him! You, Mickey Smith, need to get your stories straight,” Rose said.
“I dunno, Rose,” Jake teased back. “He said he’d like to see you long-term…”
“Oh, look at the time, better go see if the pizza’s made it here yet,” Rose excused herself from the table.
The Doctor leaned across her empty seat to whisper to Jack. “What gorgeous ginger bloke is asking out Rose?”
Jack grinned at him knowingly. “Does it matter?”
The Doctor looked flustered before moving back to his chair. “Nope, absolutely not. Doesn’t matter at all, Captain Jack. Now, murder. Terrible stuff. We really ought to catch this guy.”
“Yes, well, that would be ideal, wouldn’t it?” Pete spoke up before rising from his chair. “I’m going back to my office to call the profiler, see if she made any progress. Save me a slice, would you? I’ll be back in a bit.”
Rose returned a few minutes later carrying two square boxes and a bag of drinks. They all dug in, eating and planning over the next half an hour or so. Jake would spend as much time as he could trying to find a link between the victims, something they had in common that might lead them to the killer. Rose and Mickey would be pouring over the old and new case files, trying to find something in the clues to determine his identity. Rose volunteered to stay overnight so Mickey and Jake could go home and sleep, and the three were trying to agree on a rotating night-shift schedule when someone knocked pleasantly on the doorframe.
Everyone glanced up to see Janice, the staff profiler, grinning broadly at them. Rose recalled being introduced to her, but she was fairly certain she’d remember the shock of pink hair on Janice’s head. She must have colored it in the past few days. Rose grinned and mused silently on how much it suited the funny, creative woman.
“All right!” Janice began in her lilting Irish brogue. “Let’s get this party started!” She took Pete’s empty seat at the head of the table.
Jack immediately started in on the voluptuous, bright-haired woman, reaching across. “Captain Jack Harkness. I have to say, I thought I knew every beautiful woman on the force…”
“Cut the crap, Harkness,” Janice replied, her smile belying the stern tone of her voice. “You saw me not two days ago. And you used the same line when we first met. Mr. Jury will not be pleased when he hears you’ve been flirting again.”
“Mr. Jury told me down at last Thursday’s Pub Quiz that I could flirt all I like!”
“Oh, he did not!” Janice blushed. “Are we ready to work here? I’ve got a tall drink of water waiting for me at home and let me tell you, he is not a patient man!” Janice winked saucily at Rose, who laughed out loud before encouraging her to begin the meeting.
“Okay, so, I hear you’ve got a serial killer on your hands?”
“That we do,” Pete told them all from the doorway. Rose smiled at her dad. Apparently it was difficult for Janice’s presence to go unnoticed. “I trust you all remember Janice Jury, our staff profiler? No need for introductions, I should think. Care to tell us what you’ve come up with, Mrs. Jury?”
“Well,” she began, launching into full lecture-mode easily, passing around copies of her profile to everyone in the room. “In my often not-so-humble opinion, our killer is male. I’d place him in his late forties or early fifties, based on the age of the last case. He is obviously highly intelligent and knows it, often citing said intelligence in the clues he leaves. However, in my opinion, he is masking some sort of insecurities and craves the validation that comes with ever successful kill in that he was able to outsmart the law enforcement officials. He also references fairy tales or aspects of them, which suggests that he seems to have some sort of fantasy aspect to his life as well. I wouldn’t rule out that he has maturity issues based on some sort of unsatisfactory home life as a child. To sum up, he is bat-shite crazy but can’t react like a normal person and go to therapy three times a week. He needs to kill people in order to gain the validation that he craves and the control that he didn’t have in his household growing up. I would call him a high-functioning sociopath, probably with an intellectual career and weekends at the local Renaissance fair or a D&D Tourney. Speaking of, Ken has one this weekend. I’ll have him ask around. So, anyway…questions? Comments? Concerns? Criticisms? Jokes? Pleas for mercy? Incoherent babbling? Unabashed groveling? Anything else for the good of the cause?”
“Just…hold on a minute…” the Doctor attempted to cut in.
“Nada? Okay then, enjoy your evening!”
“Wait!” Jack shouted. “Just one thing…”
“Boys, were you not paying attention? Tall drink of water at home? He’s making me zucchini boats. Text me if you have any questions. Chief…always a pleasure.”
Janice shouldered her bag, offered Pete a saucy salute and breezed out of the room, leaving a slightly shell-shocked group behind her.
“Okay…” Rose started. “Well…at least we’ve got something to go on, yeah? Next suspect in we can see if he matches up with the profile. Now…” Rose sighed as she surveyed the mess of pizza crusts, napkins, and paper plates spread out over the table. “I’m not your mum, boys. Clean up after yourselves and we’ll get to work!”
******
Rose finally managed to pull herself away from the case files around two in the morning, taking off her reading glasses and rubbing furiously at her tired eyes. She’d practically forced Mickey and Jake to go home and sleep around eleven that evening, after they’d made some progress with their research, and the Doctor and Jack had left soon after. Meanwhile, she was scouring the old case files and researching the victims, looking for any possible connections that they all might have had. It was tedious and time-consuming, but there wasn’t much else that she could do. She’d decided to sift through as much information as she could before Mickey and Jake arrived back that morning.
Deciding that she’d been sitting still for far too long, Rose pushed away from her desk and headed towards the break room for coffee. She acknowledged silently that “coffee” might have been too generous of a word…“scrapings from the bottom of a tar pit,” was more accurate. Still, it was hot and caffeinated, and if she added the right amount of powdered creamer and sugar, it almost could pass for coffee’s demented third cousin…or something.
Rose methodically measured the proper amount of coffee into the filter, filled the machine with water, and pressed the button. She stared at the pot as it filled, reminded of her coffee trip with the Doctor and how it had ended with him telling her he was an alien. Simple as you please, he had just blurted it out. And then she felt his hearts! He’d taken her hands in his slightly-cooler ones, and she’d felt the two distinct beats. It was incredibly odd.
Then again, she supposed it made sense. She’d never worked with a psychic before, but the Doctor was eerily accurate. He got actual detailed glimpses of a person’s past, could read a person’s thoughts, and even got visions of potential futures. It was intriguing and strange and scary and still…there was something about him.
“Science fact: staring at the pot will not make it brew any faster.”
Rose spun around, heart racing. The Doctor was standing in front of her, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pinstriped trousers, looking pleased as punch to see her despite the fact she’d nearly had a heart attack.
“You scared me half to death,” she told him, turning back to see the machine had just finished the brewing cycle. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you what a bad idea it is to sneak up on a copper?”
“Hmmm…don’t think so. I think I’d remember something like that.” He’d come up beside her and was grinning like a fool, and Rose couldn’t help but smile back. “You’ll be needing your fix, I suppose.”
“Oh, God, you’ve no idea. What are you even doing here? I thought you and Jack left with Mickey and Jake.”
“Well, we did, yeah…but I don’t sleep much and I couldn’t really settle in so I decided to…well…just wanted to see if…” He couldn’t quite look at Rose as he tugged a bit nervously on his ear.
“You…just wanted to see if…?” Rose prompted as she poured a mug of the insult to coffee everywhere.
“Well…if you wanted some company. Or, you know…needed any help with anything. I can be useful! Well, when I say useful I mean I’m competent…well…when I say competent…”
Rose laughed. “God, you’re completely impossible. Come on, let’s sit for a bit, yeah? We can talk, you can keep me awake?”
“I make no promises. You’re practically dead on your feet.”
“Thanks,” Rose replied sarcastically, sitting down on one of the sofas and gesturing to the empty space next to her. “Come on, I’ve got questions for you, you freaky psychic alien. We may as well be comfortable.”
The Doctor grinned and flopped down next to her, helping himself and taking a sip from the mug in her hand. Immediately, he began coughing and gagging. “Oh, my GOD, what is wrong with you? This is…putrid! You drink this sludge?”
“It does the job. And I’m too busy thinking about how disgusting it is that I forget about being tired. Stop trying to change the subject. You’re an alien. You can’t just drop a ball like that and not elaborate.”
“You took it rather well,” the Doctor replied. “I didn’t think it needed elaboration. And we’ve been working. You said yourself that catching a serial killer is more important.”
“Yes, well, now I’m on a coffee break and I have you alone. I’m going to use this to my advantage,” Rose teased. “Come on, tell me. Why are you on Earth? How did you even get here? What about Jack, is he an alien, too?”
“Jack is 100% human. Though he’s not from around here.”
“I could tell by the accent. So where’s he from? America, yeah?”
“Well, yes…but not the America that you know. He’s from the 51st Century.”
Rose blinked at him. “What do you mean, the 51st Century? That in Kentucky or something?”
The Doctor laughed. “No, I mean the 51st Century. Between the year 5000 and 5099. I met him during the London Blitz, though. We stopped the human race from turning into gas-masked zombies. That was a good day.”
Rose rubbed her eyes. “You know what? I changed my mind. This conversation should wait until after I’ve slept for at least seven hours.”
“Aw, now where’s the fun in that?” the Doctor nudged her shoulder playfully. “Here, I’ll give you the simplified version. There’s something wrong with my ship, and she landed here in 21st Century London. We decided to make a go of it as psychic detectives. Jack and I wanted to do a bit of good, you know.”
Rose smiled sleepily at him. “You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you? Saving the world, one criminal at a time. You even get little Akitas returned to their mommas.”
The Doctor groaned. “You heard about that?”
“I know people,” she replied. “You know, this should freak me out. Aliens and things. But it’s not.”
“Nah, not Detective Inspector Rose Tyler. You’re quite brilliant, you know that?”
“Oh, I’ve been told once or twice,” she teased, draining the last of her “coffee”, patting the Doctor’s knee, and rising from the sofa. “Come on, I’m putting you to work. The only thing keeping me going right now is the fact that in four hours, I can go home and sleep.”
“That and four hours in my pleasurable company.”
Rose turned back to take in his lanky form, reclined on the couch, tie knotted loosely around his neck and the top button opened at his collar. His hair was standing up in all directions and the sleeves of his Oxford were rolled up to his elbows. He looked, for lack of a better word, scrumptious.
So much for trying to ignore her attraction to him. She questioned whether it was worth it to try harder.
“Hmm…certainly that couldn’t hurt.”
Next Chapter
Author: onabearskinrug
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose with Jack, Mickey, Jake, Pete, Jackie, and others
Rating: Teen
Summary: The Doctor and Jack are stranded in London when the TARDIS malfunctions and, based on the Doctor's alien gifts, open a psychic detective agency. When an old serial killer comes out to play, it's up to our heroes and DI Rose Tyler to play his deadly game before any more lives are lost.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or the amazingly brilliant Psych.
A/N: I've been watching too much Psych lately, and this little bunny popped into my head. Mega thanks to the gorgeous and amazing timelord1, kelkat9, and who_in_whoville for encouraging me to wander a bit out of my comfort zone, and ultra-mega thanks to who_in_whoville for coming up with the awesome title! Oh, and fannishliss for inspiring the awesome puzzle ring angle and helping me with all my metalworking issues! Also, timelord1 wrote the second puzzle clue cause I had serious writer's block and cause she's amazing :-)
Also, if anyone is familiar with investigation procedure and whatnot, I'd love some help to make this more realistic. Most of what I have here I picked up from TV, or I'm just making up my own protocol. Would anyone like to serve as my sounding board? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? :-)
Catch up:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
While they were waiting for dinner to be delivered, Rose and Mickey began conducting their impromptu meeting. Mickey shared what they had accomplished that day, including Jack’s translations of the code inscribed on both rings, the DNA they’d found under Jocelyn’s fingernails, and the metal analysis from the lab.
“We already ran the DNA,” he told her. “No matches in the system, but that just means there were no prior arrests that required DNA samples. Odd, considering that we’re dealing with a psychopath. If we have a suspect in custody we’ll at least be able to run a match. The metals in the rings were identical, and we’ll be able to get in touch with some suppliers to get a list of clients who placed that particular order. And Jack cracked the code inside the rings for the riddles. I gotta say, they’re kinda creepy and don’t really give us any information. You?”
“Well, we’ve got statements from Jocelyn’s friends and co-workers,” Rose shared. “I dunno, boys. This is starting to sound suspiciously like a murder investigation.”
The three men around the table whooped enthusiastically and Rose laughed. Of course, Chief Tyler chose that moment to peek into the room, his stern expression turning to delight when his eyes set upon the coffee and treats. “I was going to tell you lot to conduct yourself a bit more like officers of the law, but if I can have some of that you can throw a kegger for all I care.”
Rose giggled. “Last coffee’s all yours, Chief. I think Eleanor sent a lemon pound cake for you, too.”
“Angel, she is.” Pete grabbed the coffee and pastry before sitting down with the group. “So, what’s the status?”
“Looks like it was a good, productive day that we’re going to turn into a good, productive night,” Mickey answered, the rest of the group groaning. “Oh, shut it. Not like you weren’t expecting it. Round table, let’s put it all out there. Rose? Doctor? What’d you get for us?”
“The interviews were a bust, in my opinion,” Rose answered. “You didn’t get anything from the friends or coworkers, did you, Doctor?”
“Nah,” he answered, taking a sip of his tea. “I don’t need to be a telepath to know they didn’t have anything to do with it. No one was lying or nervous, everyone was truly distraught. We can rule out any of them as suspects.”
“Jocelyn was working on a pretty high-profile divorce,” Rose told them, pulling a file out of her bag and passing it to Jake. “She was representing a big CEO’s wife. They were trying to find proof of adultery. If she were successful, the prenuptial agreement would be void and the wife would be entitled to equitable division of the assets. Or a boatload of money.”
“Do you think he’s worth looking in to?” Pete asked.
“Maybe, just to be thorough,” Rose said. “But honestly, I don’t think there’s a lot there. Especially with all the evidence that’s linking Lara’s and Jocelyn’s murders together. Still, you might want to send a PC down to ask a few questions.”
“I agree,” Mickey seconded. “We don’t want to waste more manpower than we have to. Jack had some success with the coding. Jack?”
“Yeah,” he began, taking a deep breath. “These seem to be the same format as last time. Little rhymes, same number of lines as rings in the puzzle, followed by a deadline. First deadline coincided with the date of Jocelyn’s murder. ’The foe has emerged with cunning and wit/to challenge the mystic who has emerged from the mist/To find me you must pull the sword from the stone/Find your weapon or the princess will atone/30 Days.’ It’s pretty obvious what he’s going for here. The second one was five lines, since the puzzle was more complex. ’There once was a wizard in London/Whose genius could never be undone/When a princess he saw/He outsmarted the law/And bashed in her head with a truncheon/14 Days.’”
A visible shudder ran through the group. “We’re dealing with a sicko here,” Jake murmured.
“Yeah,” Mickey agreed, shaking his head slightly before turning back to Rose and the Doctor. “So we have two weeks to find this guy before he strikes again?”
“Same as last time,” Pete mused. “Thirty days, two weeks. If we can’t find him, next one will give us one week. This is either the same guy, maybe his apprentice, or a very thorough copycat.”
“And these clues are just as vague and unhelpful as the last set, too,” Jake told them, tossing a bunch of case files on the table. “He claimed that everything you needed to find him is in the rings.”
“Yeah, well, he’s also a dangerous serial killer,” the Doctor piped up, a hard edge to his voice. “Forgive me if I don’t believe everything he tells us.”
Rose, seemingly without thought, laid a hand over his under the table and squeezed it comfortingly before speaking again. “What about forensics? Have they finished with Jocelyn’s apartment yet?”
“Colin said they’re on their way. I trust this won’t affect your work, Rose?” Mickey asked her with a teasing grin.
“Shut up,” she murmured, rolling her eyes. “He asked me out once…”
“More like five times,” he replied. “The last time he asked you to marry him.”
“He didn’t!” Jack interjected. “Colin from forensics? The gorgeous ginger kid with the green eyes? And you didn’t say yes?”
“He’s ginger?” the Doctor said, sounding envious.
“He did not ask me to marry him! You, Mickey Smith, need to get your stories straight,” Rose said.
“I dunno, Rose,” Jake teased back. “He said he’d like to see you long-term…”
“Oh, look at the time, better go see if the pizza’s made it here yet,” Rose excused herself from the table.
The Doctor leaned across her empty seat to whisper to Jack. “What gorgeous ginger bloke is asking out Rose?”
Jack grinned at him knowingly. “Does it matter?”
The Doctor looked flustered before moving back to his chair. “Nope, absolutely not. Doesn’t matter at all, Captain Jack. Now, murder. Terrible stuff. We really ought to catch this guy.”
“Yes, well, that would be ideal, wouldn’t it?” Pete spoke up before rising from his chair. “I’m going back to my office to call the profiler, see if she made any progress. Save me a slice, would you? I’ll be back in a bit.”
Rose returned a few minutes later carrying two square boxes and a bag of drinks. They all dug in, eating and planning over the next half an hour or so. Jake would spend as much time as he could trying to find a link between the victims, something they had in common that might lead them to the killer. Rose and Mickey would be pouring over the old and new case files, trying to find something in the clues to determine his identity. Rose volunteered to stay overnight so Mickey and Jake could go home and sleep, and the three were trying to agree on a rotating night-shift schedule when someone knocked pleasantly on the doorframe.
Everyone glanced up to see Janice, the staff profiler, grinning broadly at them. Rose recalled being introduced to her, but she was fairly certain she’d remember the shock of pink hair on Janice’s head. She must have colored it in the past few days. Rose grinned and mused silently on how much it suited the funny, creative woman.
“All right!” Janice began in her lilting Irish brogue. “Let’s get this party started!” She took Pete’s empty seat at the head of the table.
Jack immediately started in on the voluptuous, bright-haired woman, reaching across. “Captain Jack Harkness. I have to say, I thought I knew every beautiful woman on the force…”
“Cut the crap, Harkness,” Janice replied, her smile belying the stern tone of her voice. “You saw me not two days ago. And you used the same line when we first met. Mr. Jury will not be pleased when he hears you’ve been flirting again.”
“Mr. Jury told me down at last Thursday’s Pub Quiz that I could flirt all I like!”
“Oh, he did not!” Janice blushed. “Are we ready to work here? I’ve got a tall drink of water waiting for me at home and let me tell you, he is not a patient man!” Janice winked saucily at Rose, who laughed out loud before encouraging her to begin the meeting.
“Okay, so, I hear you’ve got a serial killer on your hands?”
“That we do,” Pete told them all from the doorway. Rose smiled at her dad. Apparently it was difficult for Janice’s presence to go unnoticed. “I trust you all remember Janice Jury, our staff profiler? No need for introductions, I should think. Care to tell us what you’ve come up with, Mrs. Jury?”
“Well,” she began, launching into full lecture-mode easily, passing around copies of her profile to everyone in the room. “In my often not-so-humble opinion, our killer is male. I’d place him in his late forties or early fifties, based on the age of the last case. He is obviously highly intelligent and knows it, often citing said intelligence in the clues he leaves. However, in my opinion, he is masking some sort of insecurities and craves the validation that comes with ever successful kill in that he was able to outsmart the law enforcement officials. He also references fairy tales or aspects of them, which suggests that he seems to have some sort of fantasy aspect to his life as well. I wouldn’t rule out that he has maturity issues based on some sort of unsatisfactory home life as a child. To sum up, he is bat-shite crazy but can’t react like a normal person and go to therapy three times a week. He needs to kill people in order to gain the validation that he craves and the control that he didn’t have in his household growing up. I would call him a high-functioning sociopath, probably with an intellectual career and weekends at the local Renaissance fair or a D&D Tourney. Speaking of, Ken has one this weekend. I’ll have him ask around. So, anyway…questions? Comments? Concerns? Criticisms? Jokes? Pleas for mercy? Incoherent babbling? Unabashed groveling? Anything else for the good of the cause?”
“Just…hold on a minute…” the Doctor attempted to cut in.
“Nada? Okay then, enjoy your evening!”
“Wait!” Jack shouted. “Just one thing…”
“Boys, were you not paying attention? Tall drink of water at home? He’s making me zucchini boats. Text me if you have any questions. Chief…always a pleasure.”
Janice shouldered her bag, offered Pete a saucy salute and breezed out of the room, leaving a slightly shell-shocked group behind her.
“Okay…” Rose started. “Well…at least we’ve got something to go on, yeah? Next suspect in we can see if he matches up with the profile. Now…” Rose sighed as she surveyed the mess of pizza crusts, napkins, and paper plates spread out over the table. “I’m not your mum, boys. Clean up after yourselves and we’ll get to work!”
******
Rose finally managed to pull herself away from the case files around two in the morning, taking off her reading glasses and rubbing furiously at her tired eyes. She’d practically forced Mickey and Jake to go home and sleep around eleven that evening, after they’d made some progress with their research, and the Doctor and Jack had left soon after. Meanwhile, she was scouring the old case files and researching the victims, looking for any possible connections that they all might have had. It was tedious and time-consuming, but there wasn’t much else that she could do. She’d decided to sift through as much information as she could before Mickey and Jake arrived back that morning.
Deciding that she’d been sitting still for far too long, Rose pushed away from her desk and headed towards the break room for coffee. She acknowledged silently that “coffee” might have been too generous of a word…“scrapings from the bottom of a tar pit,” was more accurate. Still, it was hot and caffeinated, and if she added the right amount of powdered creamer and sugar, it almost could pass for coffee’s demented third cousin…or something.
Rose methodically measured the proper amount of coffee into the filter, filled the machine with water, and pressed the button. She stared at the pot as it filled, reminded of her coffee trip with the Doctor and how it had ended with him telling her he was an alien. Simple as you please, he had just blurted it out. And then she felt his hearts! He’d taken her hands in his slightly-cooler ones, and she’d felt the two distinct beats. It was incredibly odd.
Then again, she supposed it made sense. She’d never worked with a psychic before, but the Doctor was eerily accurate. He got actual detailed glimpses of a person’s past, could read a person’s thoughts, and even got visions of potential futures. It was intriguing and strange and scary and still…there was something about him.
“Science fact: staring at the pot will not make it brew any faster.”
Rose spun around, heart racing. The Doctor was standing in front of her, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pinstriped trousers, looking pleased as punch to see her despite the fact she’d nearly had a heart attack.
“You scared me half to death,” she told him, turning back to see the machine had just finished the brewing cycle. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you what a bad idea it is to sneak up on a copper?”
“Hmmm…don’t think so. I think I’d remember something like that.” He’d come up beside her and was grinning like a fool, and Rose couldn’t help but smile back. “You’ll be needing your fix, I suppose.”
“Oh, God, you’ve no idea. What are you even doing here? I thought you and Jack left with Mickey and Jake.”
“Well, we did, yeah…but I don’t sleep much and I couldn’t really settle in so I decided to…well…just wanted to see if…” He couldn’t quite look at Rose as he tugged a bit nervously on his ear.
“You…just wanted to see if…?” Rose prompted as she poured a mug of the insult to coffee everywhere.
“Well…if you wanted some company. Or, you know…needed any help with anything. I can be useful! Well, when I say useful I mean I’m competent…well…when I say competent…”
Rose laughed. “God, you’re completely impossible. Come on, let’s sit for a bit, yeah? We can talk, you can keep me awake?”
“I make no promises. You’re practically dead on your feet.”
“Thanks,” Rose replied sarcastically, sitting down on one of the sofas and gesturing to the empty space next to her. “Come on, I’ve got questions for you, you freaky psychic alien. We may as well be comfortable.”
The Doctor grinned and flopped down next to her, helping himself and taking a sip from the mug in her hand. Immediately, he began coughing and gagging. “Oh, my GOD, what is wrong with you? This is…putrid! You drink this sludge?”
“It does the job. And I’m too busy thinking about how disgusting it is that I forget about being tired. Stop trying to change the subject. You’re an alien. You can’t just drop a ball like that and not elaborate.”
“You took it rather well,” the Doctor replied. “I didn’t think it needed elaboration. And we’ve been working. You said yourself that catching a serial killer is more important.”
“Yes, well, now I’m on a coffee break and I have you alone. I’m going to use this to my advantage,” Rose teased. “Come on, tell me. Why are you on Earth? How did you even get here? What about Jack, is he an alien, too?”
“Jack is 100% human. Though he’s not from around here.”
“I could tell by the accent. So where’s he from? America, yeah?”
“Well, yes…but not the America that you know. He’s from the 51st Century.”
Rose blinked at him. “What do you mean, the 51st Century? That in Kentucky or something?”
The Doctor laughed. “No, I mean the 51st Century. Between the year 5000 and 5099. I met him during the London Blitz, though. We stopped the human race from turning into gas-masked zombies. That was a good day.”
Rose rubbed her eyes. “You know what? I changed my mind. This conversation should wait until after I’ve slept for at least seven hours.”
“Aw, now where’s the fun in that?” the Doctor nudged her shoulder playfully. “Here, I’ll give you the simplified version. There’s something wrong with my ship, and she landed here in 21st Century London. We decided to make a go of it as psychic detectives. Jack and I wanted to do a bit of good, you know.”
Rose smiled sleepily at him. “You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you? Saving the world, one criminal at a time. You even get little Akitas returned to their mommas.”
The Doctor groaned. “You heard about that?”
“I know people,” she replied. “You know, this should freak me out. Aliens and things. But it’s not.”
“Nah, not Detective Inspector Rose Tyler. You’re quite brilliant, you know that?”
“Oh, I’ve been told once or twice,” she teased, draining the last of her “coffee”, patting the Doctor’s knee, and rising from the sofa. “Come on, I’m putting you to work. The only thing keeping me going right now is the fact that in four hours, I can go home and sleep.”
“That and four hours in my pleasurable company.”
Rose turned back to take in his lanky form, reclined on the couch, tie knotted loosely around his neck and the top button opened at his collar. His hair was standing up in all directions and the sleeves of his Oxford were rolled up to his elbows. He looked, for lack of a better word, scrumptious.
So much for trying to ignore her attraction to him. She questioned whether it was worth it to try harder.
“Hmm…certainly that couldn’t hurt.”
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