Fic: Pain
Title:Pain
Pairing/Rating:Crossover Cordelia Vorkosigan/The Doctor(G)
Prompt:Cordelia and the Doctor
Word count:1900+
Disclaimer:Cordelia belongs to Lois. The Doctor belongs to the BBC.
Summary:The Doctor meets his equal.
This was inspired by the stories previously posted for this prompt--which were wonderful. Another doctor, another perspective. :-)
Cordelia walked into the glade furthest from the house and sank onto the bench there. She knew they all loved and cared about her, but if she didn’t get more than an hour to herself during daylight soon she was going to scream. She glanced at her chrono. About twenty minutes left before someone happened to “accidentally” wander into this part of the grounds.
A nap. It had been a nap. Her memory of that day was…too…vivid. His eyes had communicated a message his words didn’t when he wandered into their library on Sergyar that afternoon. “Yessss?” she said, looking up at him with a smile on her face. “Um. There’s nothing on the calendar until dinner. I was thinking maybe you could wake me up in…oh…about an hour?”
“I think I can manage that.” Aral nodded at her with a similar smile on his face and chose the corridor leading to their bedroom. At least it was a good final memory of him.
Mark and Kareen were on the ship Gregor sent when it arrived on Sergyar. That’s when the concerted effort to keep her from being alone began. They meant well. Even talking to Ekaterin about it hadn’t helped. Her family and staff wanted to make sure she was okay. Constantly.
She wasn’t okay.
Her head dropped into her hands and the tears began again. Her mother was older than Aral and Aral was dead. Cordelia was constantly amazed at how hard this was. She felt like someone had chopped off her right arm, and that she kept trying to reach for things with it. Being raised in a culture that thought it had a handle on feelings didn’t help. The fact that she had been by the side of other people going through this wasn’t helping. But now she understood the haunted look in the eyes of widows and widowers. Forty years with her intellectual equal. Forty years of mutual respect, intense love and survived trials. Forty years of companionship. In every moment since she had seen him in their bed that day the pain had been so intense she doubted it would ever lessen.
Over the birdsong there was suddenly a sound she had never heard before. Impossible to describe. Raw, regular, clearly mechanical. And then it stopped.
A forty year habit of vigilance was impossible to ignore. Cordelia quietly stood up, held her finger over the screamer circuit of her wrist com, and looked through an opening in the bushes into the next arbor.
There was a tall, square, blue box, rather small actually, with a light on top that blinked once and then went dark. As she watched, the door was jerked open and a tall man with very short, dark hair strode out like he had an urgent errand to run. His jacket and pants were not cut like any clothing she had recently seen on the vidcom channels. Before she could press the button on her wrist com he stopped suddenly, looked up, and then slowly circled in place. “This is quite fine,” she heard him say, and he sat down on a bench, continuing to look at Ekaterin’s landscaping. His face relaxed, and the jaw line eased, and he gave a deep sigh. “No explosions. No screams. There are almost always explosions or screams.” His eyes closed and a momentary gust of wind moved the collar of his jacket.
She wasn’t quiet enough. As she stepped around the bushes, he opened his eyes, looked at her, and stood up moving towards her.
“Stop. Stay right there. Security can be here in a few seconds.” She wasn’t completely sure why she hadn’t pressed the button yet, but anyone who could be stopped in his tracks by flora and fauna deserved a chance to explain himself. “How did you get in here? You should have set off about a dozen alarms.”
A broad grin split his face. “Well, yes. Probably. But my ship,” he gestured towards the blue box, “often…erm…sometimes manages stealth. I’m the doctor. Who are you?”
He was trying to jolly her into accepting him. She gave him her best “Captain Naismith” frown and said, “Doctor of what?”
“Just “the doctor.” That’s what people call me. Consider it an honorary doctorate. Or twelve. And you?”
His demand for respect he had not yet earned in her eyes made her a little fey. “Countess…I mean, Lady Cordelia Naismith Vorkosigan. What’s that a ship of?…fools?”
He caught the slip of course, but wisely opted not to comment on it. “Well sometimes, I’ll grant you, fools have been passengers. But mostly it’s a vessel to travel in time and space.” Cordelia very obviously looked it up and down again. “If you like,” she offered, “I can have my staff…or grandchildren…give it a coat of paint.” Each of the grandkids could take a side. They would like that. Time travel, indeed.
“No, really. Would you like to see the inside?”
Cordelia glanced at her chrono again. “I doubt that’s going to happen. It looks a little cramped in there, and even by Betan standards we haven’t been properly introduced. But by all means, let’s continue the verbal sparring. It’s nice out here today. However, give me a minute or we will soon have the kind of company that tends to shoot first and ask questions later.” She pressed her normal com link. “Pym?”
“Yes, milady?”
“Would you kindly corral whoever is about to come looking for me? I’m fine and don’t want to be disturbed.” Pym heard the exasperation in her voice. “Yes, milady.” But she wanted to make sure. “I mean it. No one comes out here until you hear from me.” After a pause, he repeated, “Yes, milady.” Cordelia felt a little guilty not telling him about the security breech, but she would fill him in after she had more information. “Thank you.” She sat on the bench across from the one her visitor has used. “Have a seat and tell me why you think you can time travel. No-over there where I can keep an eye on you.” The man stopped, took a couple steps backwards and sat down. “Better?” he asked. There was an appreciative look in his eyes in response to her caution. “I do time travel. Been doing it for years.”
“Of course you do,” she said in the same tone she would have used with Helen after being told by her granddaughter that there was a dragon egg in her closet.
The doctor considered Cordelia. Graying, long, red hair. An ankle length skirt, but a posture and demeanor that looked somewhat military. Clearly intelligent. How old? Hard to tell. Middle aged, he guessed, although her face was drawn and gaunt. “Is something wrong?” he asked gently.
“My husband of forty years died a month ago.”
“Oh dear. I am sorry.”
She looked at him. “Right now time travel sounds very appealing.”
“Yes, I would imagine. But doing it for the purpose you have in mind almost always ends badly, I’m afraid.” He looked a little haunted to Cordelia in that moment. So she asked in turn, “Is something wrong?” Meeting each other’s eyes, then both smiled wryly. “Well,” he said. “I couldn’t stop my home planet from being destroyed. I’m the last of my kind.” Cordelia became very still. “That just might be more painful than losing one’s husband,” she finally said. They looked at each other again. “Do you want to talk about this anymore?” he asked. “No. Not right now.” Another grin from him. “C’mon, then. Let me show you my ship,” he coaxed.
Cordelia considered. How long could it take to look at a one and a half meter square container? She could just stick her head in. She didn’t have to enter, after all. Maybe then he would trust her more. And she might get some insight into his obvious delusion.
She stood up. “Stay there.” As she stepped towards the box the stranger said, “It’s locked. May I open it for you?”
“Give me the key.” He tossed it to her, and she put it in the lock, wondering why there was a fading notice above the door that said “Police Public Call Box.” Positioning herself so that she could see both him and the inside of the box at the same time, she pushed the door open. He put his hands behind his head and waited. She might be getting a little tired of that grin already.
There were subdued flashing lights, a low hum, and the texture on the wall opposite was…interesting. Make that garish. Wait. That wall was much too far away given the outer dimensions of the box. She glanced at the man who said, “Yes, yes, I know. It’s bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Heard that a few times now. Fancy a tour?”
This was almost too much. She didn’t need reality taking any additional twists right now. Maybe it would be best to tell him to leave and to go play with her grandkids for a while.
The doctor walked slowly towards her, stopped somewhat within her personal space, looked down at her and quietly said, “Please?”
She broke eye contact, shook herself a little and said lightly, “How long is the tour?” The smile came slowly back to his face. “Time is relative. Care to name your constraints, Cordelia?”
Constraints. What were her constraints? Gregor had already appointed a new viceroy for Sergyar since the Imperium still wasn’t ready for a female at that level of government. Her children and foster son were happy and busy. Alys and Simon had each other. Even Ivan had finally met his match and been totally captured by her and then also by his daughter. Miles and Ekaterin had the district well in hand. She was tired-tired of memories and over-concern she couldn’t escape in the old familiar places. “What are you offering?”
“Not much. The universe.”
She folded her arms, took a step back and said, “On what conditions?”
Slowly he nodded once, meeting her eyes intently. “My companion chooses the conditions. I just drive the trolly, blow away baddies, and look for an occasional bit of beauty.”
“What am I then-the cheering section?”
“Hm. I might be the one cheering you on, come to think of it.”
“Damn straight.” She grinned at him. “If I don’t do this properly this entire Imperium will tear itself apart looking for me. I need about an hour.”
He was startled by this middle aged housewife claiming something so grandiose. Who was she then? “Likely I can have you back before they miss you. If all goes well. But in any case, I can keep you in touch however long we’re away. That I can promise.”
“One last thing. I don’t travel with you unless you tell me your name. I am NOT going to call you “doctor” day in and day out.”
“Well…can you call me that in public? There’s a reputation that comes with the title. And no one has called me anything else for a long time. Not sure I remember the other, really.”
“I’m fairly comfortable with titles in public venues. Now, what is your name?” He leaned down and whispered in Cordelia’s ear. Her jaw dropped. “No! Really? Makes sense, I guess. Stay near here until I get back or I’ll have to spring you from Miles’ security. “
Cordelia stepped briskly into her future.
Pairing/Rating:Crossover Cordelia Vorkosigan/The Doctor(G)
Prompt:Cordelia and the Doctor
Word count:1900+
Disclaimer:Cordelia belongs to Lois. The Doctor belongs to the BBC.
Summary:The Doctor meets his equal.
This was inspired by the stories previously posted for this prompt--which were wonderful. Another doctor, another perspective. :-)
Cordelia walked into the glade furthest from the house and sank onto the bench there. She knew they all loved and cared about her, but if she didn’t get more than an hour to herself during daylight soon she was going to scream. She glanced at her chrono. About twenty minutes left before someone happened to “accidentally” wander into this part of the grounds.
A nap. It had been a nap. Her memory of that day was…too…vivid. His eyes had communicated a message his words didn’t when he wandered into their library on Sergyar that afternoon. “Yessss?” she said, looking up at him with a smile on her face. “Um. There’s nothing on the calendar until dinner. I was thinking maybe you could wake me up in…oh…about an hour?”
“I think I can manage that.” Aral nodded at her with a similar smile on his face and chose the corridor leading to their bedroom. At least it was a good final memory of him.
Mark and Kareen were on the ship Gregor sent when it arrived on Sergyar. That’s when the concerted effort to keep her from being alone began. They meant well. Even talking to Ekaterin about it hadn’t helped. Her family and staff wanted to make sure she was okay. Constantly.
She wasn’t okay.
Her head dropped into her hands and the tears began again. Her mother was older than Aral and Aral was dead. Cordelia was constantly amazed at how hard this was. She felt like someone had chopped off her right arm, and that she kept trying to reach for things with it. Being raised in a culture that thought it had a handle on feelings didn’t help. The fact that she had been by the side of other people going through this wasn’t helping. But now she understood the haunted look in the eyes of widows and widowers. Forty years with her intellectual equal. Forty years of mutual respect, intense love and survived trials. Forty years of companionship. In every moment since she had seen him in their bed that day the pain had been so intense she doubted it would ever lessen.
Over the birdsong there was suddenly a sound she had never heard before. Impossible to describe. Raw, regular, clearly mechanical. And then it stopped.
A forty year habit of vigilance was impossible to ignore. Cordelia quietly stood up, held her finger over the screamer circuit of her wrist com, and looked through an opening in the bushes into the next arbor.
There was a tall, square, blue box, rather small actually, with a light on top that blinked once and then went dark. As she watched, the door was jerked open and a tall man with very short, dark hair strode out like he had an urgent errand to run. His jacket and pants were not cut like any clothing she had recently seen on the vidcom channels. Before she could press the button on her wrist com he stopped suddenly, looked up, and then slowly circled in place. “This is quite fine,” she heard him say, and he sat down on a bench, continuing to look at Ekaterin’s landscaping. His face relaxed, and the jaw line eased, and he gave a deep sigh. “No explosions. No screams. There are almost always explosions or screams.” His eyes closed and a momentary gust of wind moved the collar of his jacket.
She wasn’t quiet enough. As she stepped around the bushes, he opened his eyes, looked at her, and stood up moving towards her.
“Stop. Stay right there. Security can be here in a few seconds.” She wasn’t completely sure why she hadn’t pressed the button yet, but anyone who could be stopped in his tracks by flora and fauna deserved a chance to explain himself. “How did you get in here? You should have set off about a dozen alarms.”
A broad grin split his face. “Well, yes. Probably. But my ship,” he gestured towards the blue box, “often…erm…sometimes manages stealth. I’m the doctor. Who are you?”
He was trying to jolly her into accepting him. She gave him her best “Captain Naismith” frown and said, “Doctor of what?”
“Just “the doctor.” That’s what people call me. Consider it an honorary doctorate. Or twelve. And you?”
His demand for respect he had not yet earned in her eyes made her a little fey. “Countess…I mean, Lady Cordelia Naismith Vorkosigan. What’s that a ship of?…fools?”
He caught the slip of course, but wisely opted not to comment on it. “Well sometimes, I’ll grant you, fools have been passengers. But mostly it’s a vessel to travel in time and space.” Cordelia very obviously looked it up and down again. “If you like,” she offered, “I can have my staff…or grandchildren…give it a coat of paint.” Each of the grandkids could take a side. They would like that. Time travel, indeed.
“No, really. Would you like to see the inside?”
Cordelia glanced at her chrono again. “I doubt that’s going to happen. It looks a little cramped in there, and even by Betan standards we haven’t been properly introduced. But by all means, let’s continue the verbal sparring. It’s nice out here today. However, give me a minute or we will soon have the kind of company that tends to shoot first and ask questions later.” She pressed her normal com link. “Pym?”
“Yes, milady?”
“Would you kindly corral whoever is about to come looking for me? I’m fine and don’t want to be disturbed.” Pym heard the exasperation in her voice. “Yes, milady.” But she wanted to make sure. “I mean it. No one comes out here until you hear from me.” After a pause, he repeated, “Yes, milady.” Cordelia felt a little guilty not telling him about the security breech, but she would fill him in after she had more information. “Thank you.” She sat on the bench across from the one her visitor has used. “Have a seat and tell me why you think you can time travel. No-over there where I can keep an eye on you.” The man stopped, took a couple steps backwards and sat down. “Better?” he asked. There was an appreciative look in his eyes in response to her caution. “I do time travel. Been doing it for years.”
“Of course you do,” she said in the same tone she would have used with Helen after being told by her granddaughter that there was a dragon egg in her closet.
The doctor considered Cordelia. Graying, long, red hair. An ankle length skirt, but a posture and demeanor that looked somewhat military. Clearly intelligent. How old? Hard to tell. Middle aged, he guessed, although her face was drawn and gaunt. “Is something wrong?” he asked gently.
“My husband of forty years died a month ago.”
“Oh dear. I am sorry.”
She looked at him. “Right now time travel sounds very appealing.”
“Yes, I would imagine. But doing it for the purpose you have in mind almost always ends badly, I’m afraid.” He looked a little haunted to Cordelia in that moment. So she asked in turn, “Is something wrong?” Meeting each other’s eyes, then both smiled wryly. “Well,” he said. “I couldn’t stop my home planet from being destroyed. I’m the last of my kind.” Cordelia became very still. “That just might be more painful than losing one’s husband,” she finally said. They looked at each other again. “Do you want to talk about this anymore?” he asked. “No. Not right now.” Another grin from him. “C’mon, then. Let me show you my ship,” he coaxed.
Cordelia considered. How long could it take to look at a one and a half meter square container? She could just stick her head in. She didn’t have to enter, after all. Maybe then he would trust her more. And she might get some insight into his obvious delusion.
She stood up. “Stay there.” As she stepped towards the box the stranger said, “It’s locked. May I open it for you?”
“Give me the key.” He tossed it to her, and she put it in the lock, wondering why there was a fading notice above the door that said “Police Public Call Box.” Positioning herself so that she could see both him and the inside of the box at the same time, she pushed the door open. He put his hands behind his head and waited. She might be getting a little tired of that grin already.
There were subdued flashing lights, a low hum, and the texture on the wall opposite was…interesting. Make that garish. Wait. That wall was much too far away given the outer dimensions of the box. She glanced at the man who said, “Yes, yes, I know. It’s bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Heard that a few times now. Fancy a tour?”
This was almost too much. She didn’t need reality taking any additional twists right now. Maybe it would be best to tell him to leave and to go play with her grandkids for a while.
The doctor walked slowly towards her, stopped somewhat within her personal space, looked down at her and quietly said, “Please?”
She broke eye contact, shook herself a little and said lightly, “How long is the tour?” The smile came slowly back to his face. “Time is relative. Care to name your constraints, Cordelia?”
Constraints. What were her constraints? Gregor had already appointed a new viceroy for Sergyar since the Imperium still wasn’t ready for a female at that level of government. Her children and foster son were happy and busy. Alys and Simon had each other. Even Ivan had finally met his match and been totally captured by her and then also by his daughter. Miles and Ekaterin had the district well in hand. She was tired-tired of memories and over-concern she couldn’t escape in the old familiar places. “What are you offering?”
“Not much. The universe.”
She folded her arms, took a step back and said, “On what conditions?”
Slowly he nodded once, meeting her eyes intently. “My companion chooses the conditions. I just drive the trolly, blow away baddies, and look for an occasional bit of beauty.”
“What am I then-the cheering section?”
“Hm. I might be the one cheering you on, come to think of it.”
“Damn straight.” She grinned at him. “If I don’t do this properly this entire Imperium will tear itself apart looking for me. I need about an hour.”
He was startled by this middle aged housewife claiming something so grandiose. Who was she then? “Likely I can have you back before they miss you. If all goes well. But in any case, I can keep you in touch however long we’re away. That I can promise.”
“One last thing. I don’t travel with you unless you tell me your name. I am NOT going to call you “doctor” day in and day out.”
“Well…can you call me that in public? There’s a reputation that comes with the title. And no one has called me anything else for a long time. Not sure I remember the other, really.”
“I’m fairly comfortable with titles in public venues. Now, what is your name?” He leaned down and whispered in Cordelia’s ear. Her jaw dropped. “No! Really? Makes sense, I guess. Stay near here until I get back or I’ll have to spring you from Miles’ security. “
Cordelia stepped briskly into her future.