August 29: Memory Waits
Title: Memory Waits
Author: koohii_cafe
Rating: FR7
Crossover: BtVS/Doctor Who
Disclaimer: Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Doctor Who are mine. ^^;
Written for: TtH August Fic A Day Challenge
Summary: Rory Williams, the nurse, catches sight of someone the Last Centurion had known, in a time that never existed.
Author's notes: Timelines are wibbly-wobbly things! As in, people aren't necessarily going to be in the same place in multiple timelines, so use your imagination for this one. ^^
~*~*~*~*~
Rory Williams was a patient man; in fact, he was the most patient man, some might say. In an erased timeline, it had been said by many. And at this exact moment, it was a memory left over from that faux life that had never existed that bade him be as patient as ever. A glimpse of a face he recognized, although years had aged it gracefully, from the fresh-faced innocence of a teenager to the mature beauty of a woman in her prime. First a split second glance in a crowded hallway at work, and she was gone before he could be certain why she seemed familiar. Then, a week later, a name in a visitor's log that gave him pause. A month after, hazel eyes he knew he recognized when he met them briefly in a waiting room, despite the fact that he knew he'd never met them before, prompted a decision.
A door opened in his mind, one he most often avoided; he was a patient man, but patience couldn't account for the monumental memory of a life he had never lived, could never have lived. Whatever else waited behind that door, however, the answer to this face, that name, those eyes, could be found.
A memory; a child, really, a baby faced blonde fighting in an alley behind he museum, with a ferocity belied by her tiny form. A red horned creature, a demon, who attempted to gore her with the wicked bone spikes on its arm; it succeeded partially, ivory spikes piercing her side before she threw herself back with a hiss of breath. The Last Centurion, although he wore no armor in this day and time, drew his gun and fired, with the full knowledge that lead would not harm the creature. It did, however, draw the demon's attention long enough for the girl to behead it with her sword. She collapsed after.
Buffy Summers, he learned, was a guidance counselor at a school for gifted girls right here in London. The same memory of the bleeding teenager in the alley supplied that a fifteen year old slayer in another timeline had also hailed from London, a young student of another school with a similar disguise. The Last Centurion had attended to the wounded ward of the Council of Watchers, and returned her to them, in the last days of that life. And now... Rory Williams, the nurse, waited.
Three years later, a wounded warrior was wheeled into the emergency room against her will, protesting even as she struggled to staunch the flow of blood from an alarmingly deep cut across her stomach. Immediately focused, Rory took charge of his patient once more, for the first time.
Author: koohii_cafe
Rating: FR7
Crossover: BtVS/Doctor Who
Disclaimer: Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Doctor Who are mine. ^^;
Written for: TtH August Fic A Day Challenge
Summary: Rory Williams, the nurse, catches sight of someone the Last Centurion had known, in a time that never existed.
Author's notes: Timelines are wibbly-wobbly things! As in, people aren't necessarily going to be in the same place in multiple timelines, so use your imagination for this one. ^^
~*~*~*~*~
Rory Williams was a patient man; in fact, he was the most patient man, some might say. In an erased timeline, it had been said by many. And at this exact moment, it was a memory left over from that faux life that had never existed that bade him be as patient as ever. A glimpse of a face he recognized, although years had aged it gracefully, from the fresh-faced innocence of a teenager to the mature beauty of a woman in her prime. First a split second glance in a crowded hallway at work, and she was gone before he could be certain why she seemed familiar. Then, a week later, a name in a visitor's log that gave him pause. A month after, hazel eyes he knew he recognized when he met them briefly in a waiting room, despite the fact that he knew he'd never met them before, prompted a decision.
A door opened in his mind, one he most often avoided; he was a patient man, but patience couldn't account for the monumental memory of a life he had never lived, could never have lived. Whatever else waited behind that door, however, the answer to this face, that name, those eyes, could be found.
A memory; a child, really, a baby faced blonde fighting in an alley behind he museum, with a ferocity belied by her tiny form. A red horned creature, a demon, who attempted to gore her with the wicked bone spikes on its arm; it succeeded partially, ivory spikes piercing her side before she threw herself back with a hiss of breath. The Last Centurion, although he wore no armor in this day and time, drew his gun and fired, with the full knowledge that lead would not harm the creature. It did, however, draw the demon's attention long enough for the girl to behead it with her sword. She collapsed after.
Buffy Summers, he learned, was a guidance counselor at a school for gifted girls right here in London. The same memory of the bleeding teenager in the alley supplied that a fifteen year old slayer in another timeline had also hailed from London, a young student of another school with a similar disguise. The Last Centurion had attended to the wounded ward of the Council of Watchers, and returned her to them, in the last days of that life. And now... Rory Williams, the nurse, waited.
Three years later, a wounded warrior was wheeled into the emergency room against her will, protesting even as she struggled to staunch the flow of blood from an alarmingly deep cut across her stomach. Immediately focused, Rory took charge of his patient once more, for the first time.