Crossover Fic: Broken Pieces (2/3) Who/Firefly
Title: Broken Pieces (2/3)
Fandoms: Firefly/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Rose, Nine/Rose, Kaylee, Jack, Mal/Inara
Summary: Mal helps Inara out with some crime. The Doctor risks a paradox. How two timelines meet and don’t cross.
Spoilers: DW through to VotD. Firefly post-BDM.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 2, 311
A/N: This chapter is pretty much about pandering to my inner crazy nut Ten/Rose ship monkey. I call it Swally.
Hugest thanks to intrikate88 and hjea for the beta. Best minions ever! *smooch*
( Chapter 1)
The Doctor only glances back at the vendor once. He’s satisfied when the couple leaves without selling anything.
He moves on. He passes a fruit stand, a brothel, and a landing pad. His eyes linger on one of the ships, a bit run-down, but solid, with powerful engines and a large cargo bay.
He strolls casually-like he’s not risking a paradox… not stalking a younger version of Rose. He’s forgotten things about her. She’d been so young, back then. And there was that way she looked at him. Like she knew everything in him had been crushed by the Time War and she would do anything to make it better if he asked.
He turns away and tries to focus on something else. His eyes land on a pile of spare engine parts and he wanders over.
He takes in most of the parts with a quick glance. He needs something small; something to plug the holes and cracks under the console left behind by the run-in with the Titanic.
(“The TARDIS does know it’s you, doesn’t she?”
“I’m sorry?”
Rose blows out a breath that suggests he’s the one being daft and waves her hand up and down. “You know, ‘cause you’re all… different now. Brown and not ginger, remember?”
She doesn’t sound accusing this time. He decides that’s progress.
“I regenerated,” he mumbles. “It’s not like going to a lot and trading in a used car! Of course the TARDIS knows it’s me. I have done this before, you know.”
But at least she’s not asking about Jack. He knows he’ll lie when she finally does.
A slow grin lights up her face. He’s immediately suspicious.
“How many times have you regenerated, then? Can I see pictures?”
He hastily pulls down a lever on the console. “Whoops! Looks like we’re about to crash land. We’ll have to pick this conversation up again sometime later. How unfortunate.”)
“This is what ya’ want, right here. I can always tell.”
The Doctor blinks, slowly coming out of the memory. There’s a round, black disk under his nose. He follows the spare part to a hand and finally settles his gaze on a hopeful and earnest smile.
“Hey,” says the girl. “I’m Kaylee. It sort’a looked like you could use some help.”
He musters up a smile. “I’m the Doctor,” he says. He glances at the pipe. “Where did you find that?”
“Just under there,” she tilts her head in the direction of something that looks eerily like a birdcage. “You’re a doctor, huh?”
“Yup,” he says, shifting his attention to the pipe. He thinks it might actually do the trick. He could use it under the console to help connect the dematerialization pump to the feedback loop. “Do you mind if I…?”
Kaylee hands him the pipe, rocking back on her heels and studying him with a gentle curiosity. “I’m good with machines,” she explains. “Know how to talk to ‘em.”
He turns the pipe over in his hands. “Sorry, what is this called?”
“Respondar,” Kaylee says. “What brings you to a place like Persephone, anyway? Ain’t hard to tell you’re a mite out of place down here with common folk like us.”
He lowers the pipe and really looks at her. “Oh, Kaylee, there is no such thing as common folk.”
He bends down as something else catches his eye and emerges with a hook the size of his hand.
“Aha!” Kaylee says. “A Dreadman’s Notch. Been tryin’ to set one up on Serenity. Startin’ to worry it might be a mite complicated for her. She’s a solid engine, Serenity, but she don’t like it when I try’n shine her up with new-age parts. Cap’n always says it’s ‘cause she can tell they’re made by the Alliance, but that don’t mean they’re all feioo. Maybe she just needs a new tract, is all.” Kaylee pauses for a breath, but then continues brightly, “You lookin’ for transport, is that it? Serenity can always do for more passengers.”
“Um, no, I’m just…” he trails off ineffectively, suddenly realizing how absurd it is to think that going back in time to watch Rose would somehow make it easier to stop thinking about her.
He ought to keep moving. Trouble is, ever since Martha and Jack took off, ever since Astrid, an empty TARDIS is about the last place he wants to be.
( “What are you going to do?”
“Oh, I’ve still got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords.”
He tries to smile, but Rose looks devastated. Her tears are making it harder for her to speak. “On your own?”
He nods. He can’t think of what else to say.
“I lo-” she can’t quite get it out the first time, but she pulls herself together. She glances away once, but turns back to him. “I love you.”
“Quite right, too.” She nods and almost looks like she might laugh, but she can’t stop her sobs. “And I suppose-if it’s my last chance to say it-” He pauses. “Rose Tyler…”)
He closes his eyes. Not good memories.
“We’re a good crew,” Kaylee continues. “Don’t ask questions. Like to leave ya’ alone, is all. And Serenity’ll get you anywhere in this ‘verse.” She frowns. “Maybe not the Core. We don’t go out there much. Doctor?”
He opens his eyes to Kaylee’s concerned gaze. He forces a smile and says, “I don’t need transport, Kaylee. Things to do. Important… possibly universe altering things.”
Kaylee shakes her head, amused. “Well, if you change your mind, we’re sittin’ just over there. There ain’t no ship in the ‘verse better’n Serenity.”
“I’m sure she’s quite… lovely,” he manages. He finds her gaze. “And… thank you. For your help.”
He nods to the spare parts in his hands. Kaylee beams. “You’re welcome.”
(“What about this one?” Rose points at a pink figurine made out of glass.
“The goddess Tess!” he says. Rose smiles encouragingly. “Um, no.”
Her smile falters. “Why not?”
“God of purity,” the Doctor says. “Not… really your mother.” Rose narrows her eyes. “Not that-I mean, Jackie Tyler is very… Ooh, how about this one?”
He fixes on his glasses and then jerks his head in the opposite direction. Rose raises her eyebrows but doesn’t comment.
“Bezoolium,” he says. “Tells you what the weather’s going to be.” He crouches down to examine it. “Quite remarkable, really. Senses atmospheric patterns. Sort of… analyzes what’s in the air.” He turns to look at her. “What?”
“You do realize you’re shopping for my mum, yeah?” Rose says. “What’s it called? A Bazooka-thingie?”
“Bezoolium,” he corrects before her words hit him. “Hold on-I never said I was-”
“Credits, please?” Rose holds out her hand.
He begins to dig through his pockets. “You were buying. I was… making suggestions. Giving you a push in the right direction. Dispensing sage advice.”
Rose’s fingers snap. “Save it for the jury, buddy. You can’t fool me.” She leans forward, closer than is strictly necessary. “Do you even know what currency this planet uses?”
“Of course I do!” he huffs. “It’s just-in here… somewhere…”
Rose shrugs and sticks her hand in the opposite pocket-presumably to help-and then gets a thoughtful look on her face. “I think I found the key to the pool room.”
“Really? I’ve been looking all over for that.”
“And… is that the jam from the pantry?”
“Is it raspberry?” he asks hopefully. Rose determinedly moves closer in order to solve this very important question, providing him with a nice whiff of her hair. Oranges and vanilla extract. Not bad.
“AHEM!”
They jump apart like they’ve just been caught sneaking into the biscuit jar at Jackie’s. A graying man stares down his nose at them, cane waving ominously in the air.
“Well,” the Doctor says brightly. “Found the currency! Come along, then.” He grabs Rose’s hand and heroically pulls her out swinging cane range. She presses her face against his shoulder to muffle her snorts of laughter. )
The Doctor searches through his pockets-psychic paper, yo-yo from that gift shop in Wyoming, a half-eaten purple crayon-before finding Alliance approved credits.
He goes to pay for the parts. When he looks around, he’s grateful that Rose has moved out of his line of vision.
He turns around and runs smack into his former self.
Oh, bugger. For a split second, he considers smiling innocently and then moving on, but the damage is done. It was stupid to think he wouldn’t sense himself. Those senses had been all but dead since the Time War. He’d probably been aware of himself from the moment he materialized onto the planet.
They look each other up and down. He feels a fond tug at the sight of that old leather jacket. Dependable, that jacket-if a little retro looking. Of course, he had found it in the back of the TARDIS’s wardrobe. Under a mid-nineteenth century corset, oddly enough.
“Um, hello,” he manages. He hesitates and then adds, “Doctor.”
He gets a stony glare in response. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, there was just this… this sort of….” He waves his arms in the direction of the jewelry stand. “Alien pollen? Which you-I was right about, so congratulations on that.”
His other self doesn’t crack a smile.
“Are you completely stupid?” he says. “Are you trying to get us all killed? Did you wake up this morning and think, ‘Oh, today would be a good day for a paradox. I think I’ll go crossing my own timeline. I’ll have the best seats for when the universe implodes! Won’t that be nice?’”
“I can see how one might… draw that conclusion,” he begins. Was his last incarnation always this tall? Or is he imagining things? “Mistaken conclusion, by the way. I just…”
He has to look away, squinting at a point over his former self’s shoulder. He can just make out Rose and Jack in the background. Rose has a smear of strawberry ice cream on her cheek, near the corner of her mouth. Jack thinks it’s funny. He swallows.
He slowly returns his gaze to his past self. “Rose doesn’t recognize me. Can’t.”
There’s a hint of panic in his former self’s eyes and he realizes he’s gone and given the whole thing away. He clenches his jaw together, determined not to let anything else slip.
“It doesn’t matter,” says his younger self. “Is that why you’re here?”
He goes on the defensive. “I can’t tell you.” He jabs a finger in his other self’s direction. “Shouldn’t even be talking to you. Could cause… bad things. Universe in peril and all that.”
“Oh, don’t go lecturing me. I think I’ve got the dynamics of temporal time well covered, thanks.” He stops, and begins to look appalled. He narrows his eyes. “I’m all… pretty.”
“Well,” he says, pride slipping into his tone. “I am quite-”
“-if a bit on the thin side. Regeneration process is a bit dodgy, though, isn’t it? Never really know what you’ll end up with. Just look at my hair. Would a haircut kill you? And the shoes.”
“What?!” He glances down at his shoes. One hand goes defensively into his hair. “These are excellent for running. And… and I like my hair!”
His other self rolls his eyes. He looks far more cheerful now that he’s had the opportunity to insult him.
“Take my advice,” he says. He leans forward and drops his voice. “Whatever it is you’re looking for, you won’t find it here. Get back in the TARDIS and leave.”
“And you would know that, would you?”
“Yeah, I would,” he says. “Do you think I’ve never thought about going back? Thought about seeing if there’s a time period where Gallifrey still exists?”
He doesn’t answer. The question is redundant, after all. Of course he knows.
His other self pulls away. “You should go.”
“Yeah.” He makes his voice sound as sincere as possible. Even if he’s thinking about other times and dates.
February 13, 2006, Rose had tea with her mother while he puttered around with the TARDIS. The Doona system, the year 458790, they lost each other in a forest for two days. April 13, 2009, shopping at Tesco and Rose wandered off to the pharmacy…
He turns away. The TARDIS would stop him from doing anything too stupid. He’s sure of it.
“Doctor.”
He pauses, hands shoved to his pockets. “What is it?”
“When does it happen?”
He turns back around, squinting in the sun. “I can’t-” he begins, and then decides to lie. “A long time from now.”
His other self looks satisfied by this answer, but he looks up at the sky, checking for reapers or hell beasts or any other sort of catastrophic rip in time. Nothing.
With some disappointment, he shifts his gaze back to his past self, but he’s gone back to Rose and Jack. He watches them for another few seconds, and has to concede that this version is a sorry excuse for the real thing.
Right, then. Enough of this. Rose-his Rose-future Rose-whatever-would have his head if she knew he was doing this. Besides, the TARDIS kept trying to tell him there was a nasty infestation of Squandron Aliens in the year 20 Apple 13, and it had been a while since he’d run away from a fire breathing monster.
He takes two steps forwards and then stops abruptly, tripping over his own feet. There, in the desert floor, are two words etched into the sand, their edges already fading from the wind.
BAD WOLF
It’s only when his respiratory bi-pass system kicks in that he remembers to start breathing again. He glances behind him-Rose, Jack, and the younger him are heading back towards town. In a few seconds, the message will fade.
It’s not meant for them.
The thought hits him hard and he takes a step back. (Am I ever going to see you again? You can’t.) His eyes are drawn back to the message, now reading AD WO. But it had been there. No denying that.
He hadn’t lied to Rose (not about that-never), but he’s been wrong before.
He smiles down at the words. Oh, yes. He’s been wrong before, sometimes more than he’d like to count. This time, it’s worth hoping for.
He only moves forward when the wind finishes, erasing the words from the desert floor.
****
Author’s Notes/References:
I wrote most of this fic before Voyage of the Damned, but considering VotD was fairly dark for a “Christmas” episode, I don’t think it’s entirely out of the realm of possibility that the Doctor would be missing Rose more than ever. I vaguely considered calling this chapter “the Tenth Doctor needs a hug,” but decided to give him Bad Wolf instead. As one does.
I borrowed some dialogue from “Doomsday.” Don’t ask me why. There was probably enough sadness in here without it. Please give Russell T Davies all the credit for that one. No, really. Please.
On to Chapter 3!
Fandoms: Firefly/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Rose, Nine/Rose, Kaylee, Jack, Mal/Inara
Summary: Mal helps Inara out with some crime. The Doctor risks a paradox. How two timelines meet and don’t cross.
Spoilers: DW through to VotD. Firefly post-BDM.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 2, 311
A/N: This chapter is pretty much about pandering to my inner crazy nut Ten/Rose ship monkey. I call it Swally.
Hugest thanks to intrikate88 and hjea for the beta. Best minions ever! *smooch*
( Chapter 1)
The Doctor only glances back at the vendor once. He’s satisfied when the couple leaves without selling anything.
He moves on. He passes a fruit stand, a brothel, and a landing pad. His eyes linger on one of the ships, a bit run-down, but solid, with powerful engines and a large cargo bay.
He strolls casually-like he’s not risking a paradox… not stalking a younger version of Rose. He’s forgotten things about her. She’d been so young, back then. And there was that way she looked at him. Like she knew everything in him had been crushed by the Time War and she would do anything to make it better if he asked.
He turns away and tries to focus on something else. His eyes land on a pile of spare engine parts and he wanders over.
He takes in most of the parts with a quick glance. He needs something small; something to plug the holes and cracks under the console left behind by the run-in with the Titanic.
(“The TARDIS does know it’s you, doesn’t she?”
“I’m sorry?”
Rose blows out a breath that suggests he’s the one being daft and waves her hand up and down. “You know, ‘cause you’re all… different now. Brown and not ginger, remember?”
She doesn’t sound accusing this time. He decides that’s progress.
“I regenerated,” he mumbles. “It’s not like going to a lot and trading in a used car! Of course the TARDIS knows it’s me. I have done this before, you know.”
But at least she’s not asking about Jack. He knows he’ll lie when she finally does.
A slow grin lights up her face. He’s immediately suspicious.
“How many times have you regenerated, then? Can I see pictures?”
He hastily pulls down a lever on the console. “Whoops! Looks like we’re about to crash land. We’ll have to pick this conversation up again sometime later. How unfortunate.”)
“This is what ya’ want, right here. I can always tell.”
The Doctor blinks, slowly coming out of the memory. There’s a round, black disk under his nose. He follows the spare part to a hand and finally settles his gaze on a hopeful and earnest smile.
“Hey,” says the girl. “I’m Kaylee. It sort’a looked like you could use some help.”
He musters up a smile. “I’m the Doctor,” he says. He glances at the pipe. “Where did you find that?”
“Just under there,” she tilts her head in the direction of something that looks eerily like a birdcage. “You’re a doctor, huh?”
“Yup,” he says, shifting his attention to the pipe. He thinks it might actually do the trick. He could use it under the console to help connect the dematerialization pump to the feedback loop. “Do you mind if I…?”
Kaylee hands him the pipe, rocking back on her heels and studying him with a gentle curiosity. “I’m good with machines,” she explains. “Know how to talk to ‘em.”
He turns the pipe over in his hands. “Sorry, what is this called?”
“Respondar,” Kaylee says. “What brings you to a place like Persephone, anyway? Ain’t hard to tell you’re a mite out of place down here with common folk like us.”
He lowers the pipe and really looks at her. “Oh, Kaylee, there is no such thing as common folk.”
He bends down as something else catches his eye and emerges with a hook the size of his hand.
“Aha!” Kaylee says. “A Dreadman’s Notch. Been tryin’ to set one up on Serenity. Startin’ to worry it might be a mite complicated for her. She’s a solid engine, Serenity, but she don’t like it when I try’n shine her up with new-age parts. Cap’n always says it’s ‘cause she can tell they’re made by the Alliance, but that don’t mean they’re all feioo. Maybe she just needs a new tract, is all.” Kaylee pauses for a breath, but then continues brightly, “You lookin’ for transport, is that it? Serenity can always do for more passengers.”
“Um, no, I’m just…” he trails off ineffectively, suddenly realizing how absurd it is to think that going back in time to watch Rose would somehow make it easier to stop thinking about her.
He ought to keep moving. Trouble is, ever since Martha and Jack took off, ever since Astrid, an empty TARDIS is about the last place he wants to be.
( “What are you going to do?”
“Oh, I’ve still got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords.”
He tries to smile, but Rose looks devastated. Her tears are making it harder for her to speak. “On your own?”
He nods. He can’t think of what else to say.
“I lo-” she can’t quite get it out the first time, but she pulls herself together. She glances away once, but turns back to him. “I love you.”
“Quite right, too.” She nods and almost looks like she might laugh, but she can’t stop her sobs. “And I suppose-if it’s my last chance to say it-” He pauses. “Rose Tyler…”)
He closes his eyes. Not good memories.
“We’re a good crew,” Kaylee continues. “Don’t ask questions. Like to leave ya’ alone, is all. And Serenity’ll get you anywhere in this ‘verse.” She frowns. “Maybe not the Core. We don’t go out there much. Doctor?”
He opens his eyes to Kaylee’s concerned gaze. He forces a smile and says, “I don’t need transport, Kaylee. Things to do. Important… possibly universe altering things.”
Kaylee shakes her head, amused. “Well, if you change your mind, we’re sittin’ just over there. There ain’t no ship in the ‘verse better’n Serenity.”
“I’m sure she’s quite… lovely,” he manages. He finds her gaze. “And… thank you. For your help.”
He nods to the spare parts in his hands. Kaylee beams. “You’re welcome.”
(“What about this one?” Rose points at a pink figurine made out of glass.
“The goddess Tess!” he says. Rose smiles encouragingly. “Um, no.”
Her smile falters. “Why not?”
“God of purity,” the Doctor says. “Not… really your mother.” Rose narrows her eyes. “Not that-I mean, Jackie Tyler is very… Ooh, how about this one?”
He fixes on his glasses and then jerks his head in the opposite direction. Rose raises her eyebrows but doesn’t comment.
“Bezoolium,” he says. “Tells you what the weather’s going to be.” He crouches down to examine it. “Quite remarkable, really. Senses atmospheric patterns. Sort of… analyzes what’s in the air.” He turns to look at her. “What?”
“You do realize you’re shopping for my mum, yeah?” Rose says. “What’s it called? A Bazooka-thingie?”
“Bezoolium,” he corrects before her words hit him. “Hold on-I never said I was-”
“Credits, please?” Rose holds out her hand.
He begins to dig through his pockets. “You were buying. I was… making suggestions. Giving you a push in the right direction. Dispensing sage advice.”
Rose’s fingers snap. “Save it for the jury, buddy. You can’t fool me.” She leans forward, closer than is strictly necessary. “Do you even know what currency this planet uses?”
“Of course I do!” he huffs. “It’s just-in here… somewhere…”
Rose shrugs and sticks her hand in the opposite pocket-presumably to help-and then gets a thoughtful look on her face. “I think I found the key to the pool room.”
“Really? I’ve been looking all over for that.”
“And… is that the jam from the pantry?”
“Is it raspberry?” he asks hopefully. Rose determinedly moves closer in order to solve this very important question, providing him with a nice whiff of her hair. Oranges and vanilla extract. Not bad.
“AHEM!”
They jump apart like they’ve just been caught sneaking into the biscuit jar at Jackie’s. A graying man stares down his nose at them, cane waving ominously in the air.
“Well,” the Doctor says brightly. “Found the currency! Come along, then.” He grabs Rose’s hand and heroically pulls her out swinging cane range. She presses her face against his shoulder to muffle her snorts of laughter. )
The Doctor searches through his pockets-psychic paper, yo-yo from that gift shop in Wyoming, a half-eaten purple crayon-before finding Alliance approved credits.
He goes to pay for the parts. When he looks around, he’s grateful that Rose has moved out of his line of vision.
He turns around and runs smack into his former self.
Oh, bugger. For a split second, he considers smiling innocently and then moving on, but the damage is done. It was stupid to think he wouldn’t sense himself. Those senses had been all but dead since the Time War. He’d probably been aware of himself from the moment he materialized onto the planet.
They look each other up and down. He feels a fond tug at the sight of that old leather jacket. Dependable, that jacket-if a little retro looking. Of course, he had found it in the back of the TARDIS’s wardrobe. Under a mid-nineteenth century corset, oddly enough.
“Um, hello,” he manages. He hesitates and then adds, “Doctor.”
He gets a stony glare in response. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, there was just this… this sort of….” He waves his arms in the direction of the jewelry stand. “Alien pollen? Which you-I was right about, so congratulations on that.”
His other self doesn’t crack a smile.
“Are you completely stupid?” he says. “Are you trying to get us all killed? Did you wake up this morning and think, ‘Oh, today would be a good day for a paradox. I think I’ll go crossing my own timeline. I’ll have the best seats for when the universe implodes! Won’t that be nice?’”
“I can see how one might… draw that conclusion,” he begins. Was his last incarnation always this tall? Or is he imagining things? “Mistaken conclusion, by the way. I just…”
He has to look away, squinting at a point over his former self’s shoulder. He can just make out Rose and Jack in the background. Rose has a smear of strawberry ice cream on her cheek, near the corner of her mouth. Jack thinks it’s funny. He swallows.
He slowly returns his gaze to his past self. “Rose doesn’t recognize me. Can’t.”
There’s a hint of panic in his former self’s eyes and he realizes he’s gone and given the whole thing away. He clenches his jaw together, determined not to let anything else slip.
“It doesn’t matter,” says his younger self. “Is that why you’re here?”
He goes on the defensive. “I can’t tell you.” He jabs a finger in his other self’s direction. “Shouldn’t even be talking to you. Could cause… bad things. Universe in peril and all that.”
“Oh, don’t go lecturing me. I think I’ve got the dynamics of temporal time well covered, thanks.” He stops, and begins to look appalled. He narrows his eyes. “I’m all… pretty.”
“Well,” he says, pride slipping into his tone. “I am quite-”
“-if a bit on the thin side. Regeneration process is a bit dodgy, though, isn’t it? Never really know what you’ll end up with. Just look at my hair. Would a haircut kill you? And the shoes.”
“What?!” He glances down at his shoes. One hand goes defensively into his hair. “These are excellent for running. And… and I like my hair!”
His other self rolls his eyes. He looks far more cheerful now that he’s had the opportunity to insult him.
“Take my advice,” he says. He leans forward and drops his voice. “Whatever it is you’re looking for, you won’t find it here. Get back in the TARDIS and leave.”
“And you would know that, would you?”
“Yeah, I would,” he says. “Do you think I’ve never thought about going back? Thought about seeing if there’s a time period where Gallifrey still exists?”
He doesn’t answer. The question is redundant, after all. Of course he knows.
His other self pulls away. “You should go.”
“Yeah.” He makes his voice sound as sincere as possible. Even if he’s thinking about other times and dates.
February 13, 2006, Rose had tea with her mother while he puttered around with the TARDIS. The Doona system, the year 458790, they lost each other in a forest for two days. April 13, 2009, shopping at Tesco and Rose wandered off to the pharmacy…
He turns away. The TARDIS would stop him from doing anything too stupid. He’s sure of it.
“Doctor.”
He pauses, hands shoved to his pockets. “What is it?”
“When does it happen?”
He turns back around, squinting in the sun. “I can’t-” he begins, and then decides to lie. “A long time from now.”
His other self looks satisfied by this answer, but he looks up at the sky, checking for reapers or hell beasts or any other sort of catastrophic rip in time. Nothing.
With some disappointment, he shifts his gaze back to his past self, but he’s gone back to Rose and Jack. He watches them for another few seconds, and has to concede that this version is a sorry excuse for the real thing.
Right, then. Enough of this. Rose-his Rose-future Rose-whatever-would have his head if she knew he was doing this. Besides, the TARDIS kept trying to tell him there was a nasty infestation of Squandron Aliens in the year 20 Apple 13, and it had been a while since he’d run away from a fire breathing monster.
He takes two steps forwards and then stops abruptly, tripping over his own feet. There, in the desert floor, are two words etched into the sand, their edges already fading from the wind.
BAD WOLF
It’s only when his respiratory bi-pass system kicks in that he remembers to start breathing again. He glances behind him-Rose, Jack, and the younger him are heading back towards town. In a few seconds, the message will fade.
It’s not meant for them.
The thought hits him hard and he takes a step back. (Am I ever going to see you again? You can’t.) His eyes are drawn back to the message, now reading AD WO. But it had been there. No denying that.
He hadn’t lied to Rose (not about that-never), but he’s been wrong before.
He smiles down at the words. Oh, yes. He’s been wrong before, sometimes more than he’d like to count. This time, it’s worth hoping for.
He only moves forward when the wind finishes, erasing the words from the desert floor.
****
Author’s Notes/References:
I wrote most of this fic before Voyage of the Damned, but considering VotD was fairly dark for a “Christmas” episode, I don’t think it’s entirely out of the realm of possibility that the Doctor would be missing Rose more than ever. I vaguely considered calling this chapter “the Tenth Doctor needs a hug,” but decided to give him Bad Wolf instead. As one does.
I borrowed some dialogue from “Doomsday.” Don’t ask me why. There was probably enough sadness in here without it. Please give Russell T Davies all the credit for that one. No, really. Please.
On to Chapter 3!