Doctor Who’s End Game - Death of a Friend 2/8
Title: Doctor Who’s End Game - Death of a Friend 2/8
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, The Doctor (10), OFC, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, Benton
Parings: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Neither Torchwood or Doctor Who are mine
Summary: The Rani wants revenge
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
A/N: This is a sequel to Doctor Who’s Nightmares
Prologue here
‘So tell me about this place Jack… I mean how could something like this go unnoticed in this day and age?’ Draining his glass Jack looked around for Ianto, it had been his turn to buy the drinks. Seeing him return with a tray filled with three pints, Jack turned his attention back to Louise Ruth, who had just fed a handful of twenty pence coins into the Jukebox.
‘Quite simply,’ Jack began, ‘a rift opened up above the city back in 1974… a rift like none seen on Earth even today. All sorts of alien activity took place, which the Cypriot government couldn’t control.’ Ianto returned placing the tray on the table in front of them, just as the Jukebox began hammering out ‘Banned from Argo’ by Leslie Fish. Smiling, each took their pint, Jack removing Ianto’s for him.
‘You put that on, on purpose?’ Jack accused, and then smiling added, ‘There actually is a space port called Argo.’ Turning towards Ianto Jack added, ‘Did I ever tell you about the space port Argo?’ Ianto shook his head as he joined them. Putting a hand in one pocket Ianto pulled out a packet of dry roasted peanuts and threw them at Louise Ruth who smiled at the memory. Only two weeks previous their lives had been saved by a packet of pork scratchings and the memory of that occasion was fresh in their minds.
‘I met this woman there with six breasts… three either side… boy was she fun. A guy didn’t know where to start.’ Ianto, who was familiar enough with Jack’s stories to know when to blot them out, ignored him as the sound of Leslie Fish’s lyrics, in the background, brought a smile to his face.
And we're banned from Argo every one, Banned from Argo just for having a little fun.
‘I was once so drunk I threw a window frame through a T.V. screen… how ironic,’ Jack added as Louise Ruth burst out laughing.
‘Yours and Jack’s are Stella and mine was going to be a Black Sheep… but they didn’t have any… so I’ve got a pint of John Smiths extra smooth… very nice.’ Jack patted Ianto’s backside and smiled.
‘Just like you my friend… extra smooth.’ Louise Ruth opened the packet and offered them to Jack and Ianto who both refused. ‘Any way… where was I? Oh yes Famagusta.’ Ianto sat down and immediately took a sip from his pint. ‘In 1974 a rift opened up above the town of Varosha in Famagusta. The Greeks didn’t know what to do and were in a state of flux. Seeing this and misunderstanding it as weakness the Turkish military invaded and decided to carve up the island. The Greek Cypriots in the north were forced to move to the south side of the line and the Turkish Cypriots from the south were forced to move north.’
‘I know all of that from history… what I want to know is what happened in Varosha.’ Louise Ruth asked while chewing on the dry roasted nuts and washing them down with a mouthful of Stella Artois.
‘The Greek Cypriot citizens in Varosha fled from the Turkish invasion in terror, but expected to return to their homes within days. Instead, the Turks seized the empty city and, realising what they had, wrapped it up in fencing and wire. They forbid anyone from entering it to this day.’
‘What did they find, Jack… I mean… what was there?’ Ianto asked a look of worry on his face.
‘What they found was a town crawling with aliens of every size and description… but not just aliens… humans that had been taken by the rift at some point, altered, then spat out like so much garbage…’ A darkness passed over Jack’s face and Ianto shuddered, his mind going back to Jonah Bevan and all the others at Flat Holm, no wonder Jack had set the place up.
‘What happened to them Jack?’ Ianto whispered, his throat drying as he spoke.
‘Not knowing what they were… the Turkish shot them.’ Jack drank deeply from his pint, Ianto following suit.
‘Not sure what else to do, they fenced it off from the public and stationed an army unit around the town to stop people entering. The UN brought a troop in and UNIT took over with Torchwood as advisors.’
‘And this had been kept a secret since 1974? Someone must know about this… I mean how can you keep an entire town fenced off for that long?’ Louise Ruth asked, almost halfway through her pint.
‘As I said,’ Jack added taking a pull at his pint, realising that Louise Ruth was ahead of him by about a quarter of a glass. ‘The Turkish army patrol the outer edges of the town and anything that ventures near enough they take pot shots at. A number of soldiers have gone missing but they’re reported as training accidents.’ Louise took another mouthful of her pint almost draining the glass in the process.
‘What about the people that lived there before… don’t they remember any strange goings on?’ Jack raised his glass and managed a mouthful but had to stop. He was only halfway down his glass and Louise Ruth had almost finished hers. The Jukebox went silent as the voices in the room became more perceptible, intruding on their conversation. With a smile Louise Ruth took another mouthful as Leslie Fish began a second time singing Banned from Argo.
‘A lot of people were lost during the fighting… I mean lost… not just killed… but actually lost. They have a tree in Nicosia with the names and photographs of all the missing pinned onto it. Believe me there’s a lot.’ Jack picked up his pint one more time and noticed Louise Ruth had finished hers and was looking around for a gap in the bar. Looking across at Ianto, who was taking his second sip from his pint, he wondered if he should try to keep up with her. Then the lyrics of the song invaded his thought patterns and memories flooded back as he listened.
Our captain's tastes were simple but his methods were complex, we found him with five partners each of a different world and sex…
‘My shout… Ianto?’ Louise Ruth asked, while standing and walking towards the bar.
‘Err… no thanks… still have this one see,’ Ianto said with a smile on his face. The lyrics weren’t lost on him, Louise Ruth realised. Jack had another try at his and managed to leave only a quarter in the bottom of his glass.
‘Same again… and perhaps a packet of cheese and onion to keep it company,’ he said not too sure what he was doing. Louise Ruth smiled as she fished inside her bag for her purse.
‘I’ll have a packet of cheese and onion too,’ Ianto added as he went for his third mouthful, enjoying the taste. Jack smiled his usual smile and squeezed Ianto’s knee under the table.
‘Can I persuade you to stay at the hotel tonight, Jack, or are you off helping the Doctor?’ Ianto asked, not daring to make eye contact with Jack.
‘There’s an old Irish phrase about gentle persuasion, which goes something like, “strong words softly spoken.” What it means, Ianto, is that talking freely makes you sound vulnerable. That’s why I never talk serious while I’m drinking. Of course I’ll stay at the hotel tonight… but I’m not too sure about sleeping.’ Ianto smiled as Louise Ruth joined them, placing yet another pint in front of Jack.
Five minutes later, the Jukebox kicked in a third time with Banned from Argo, causing Jack to smile so much he almost burst out laughing.
‘I always like to watch people when they think there’s no one observing them. You can pick up a lot about their true personality when they’re off guard.’ Louise Ruth said pointing to a group of people on a table opposite. ‘You see their body language gives it away. It tells you everything you need to know about them. I mean… look at that one,’ she gestured towards a rather drunk looking young man that appeared to be thinking whether going home right about now was a good idea as he sang Banned for Argo in a rather off tone voice that made Jack wince.
‘The wheel’s still moving but the hamster’s long gone,’ Louise Ruth added with a smile. She shook her head and took another mouthful of Stella. Jack tried to follow her but found that trying to keep up with Louise Ruth was an exercise in futility. The lyrics of the song, repeated so many times, began to sound catchy, he thought as yet another chorus thundered out above the noise of the drinkers.
And we're banned from Argo every one…
***
Ten o’clock came and went and a group of seven women, all dressed in the same shirt, advertising ‘Janet’s Hen Party,’ staggered through the front doors, more than a little drunk, to the sound of Banned from Argo, which Louise Ruth insisted on playing on the Jukebox.
Listening, Jack realised that most of the crowd were singing along to the chorus, no one complaining. He overheard two men, sitting on a table behind them as they surveyed the newly arrived group.
‘I’m going to get so drunk that at least one of those girls over there will look attractive.’
‘Don’t be so stupid,’ his drinking companion announced. ‘If you drink that much you’ll kill yourself. I mean… look at that fat one…she must be about twenty stone at least…hasn’t she ever heard of a salad?’
Jack smiled and shook his head; the folly of youth he thought. If only the young guy realised that curvy women were so much more fun than their stick-figure counterparts.
Taking a mouthful from her tenth pint of the night, Louise Ruth smiled. Jack was still trying to finish off his ninth and she could see he was feeling it.
‘So… Louise Ruth… you’re into people watching in supermarkets, I’m told?’ Jack asked, realising that if she was talking she wasn’t drinking.
‘Sort of… I mean… I hate queues. In fact I shop in the middle of the night just so I don’t have to stand in line. If I’m forced to shop during the day I never buy more than twelve items or less. I even watch the insomniac man or woman in front of me emptying their basket. I count the items they place on the conveyer belt you know, and if they have more than twelve, even one more, I’ll grass the bastard up and demand that they are shoved into a no limit line. Hey… I know my rights. Even if they pick up a chocolate bar or packet of chewing gum at the checkout and it puts him over the limit they’re out of there, even if I have to drag him out myself.’
Ianto took a tentative sip from his third pint and chewed on a mouth full of crisps while picturing Louise Ruth throwing the twenty stone women in the Hen Night t-shirt, out of a supermarket, and shivered. Banned from Argo, pumped out from the Jukebox for the umpteenth time, the chorus more familiar to him now than his sister’s husband, whom he’d never seen since the 456 incident.
Lifting her pint to her lips, Louise Ruth saw the look of anguish on Jack’s face as he contemplated the pint in front of him. Just then both doors burst open and a rather dishevelled Doctor walked in, blue pin stripped suit, red Converse trainers and his brown coat flapping behind him.
‘Hello…’ was all he said, not his usual flamboyant self, Louise Ruth realised.
‘I see he got the coat cleaned Doc.’ Jack said and all three burst out laughing.
Looking at the state Jack was in, the Doctor hugged his coat protectively to his chest. ‘Err… if anyone’s interested… I managed to track her down. Aren’t I brilliant?’
All three stopped laughing and stared back at the Doctor. ‘I thought that would get your attention. Not too sure it’s finding the Rani or me being brilliant… but I’ll let that go this time.’ The Doctor pulled up a stool and sat at their table as Jack tried to concentrate. ‘Jack was right… her TARDIS is giving off quite a strong signal. She’s smack, bang in the middle of the ghost town of Varosha in Cyprus. Allons-y,’ the Doctor added as he stood up, his stool falling on its side. ‘We’ve got to go… now… and stop her.’ Turning the Doctor walked towards the door then turned when he realise that no one was following him.
Louise Ruth looked at the Doctor and noted that something was wrong but filed it away in the back of her mind. He was paler than usual but nothing too drastic, she realised. Perhaps he’d been working too hard, she mused to herself.
‘We’ll come Doctor… don’t get us wrong… but… well… I’ve just got a fresh one, Jack’s battling away at his and Ianto… Ianto’s still on his third.’ Jack burst out laughing and, standing, got his foot caught in the hem of his great coat and fell backwards crashing into a table behind him spilling drinks everywhere. It was Ianto’s turn to laugh, quickly followed by Louise Ruth. Even the Doctor joined in, despite himself.
‘Perhaps I’ll have a half…’ the Doctor added with a smile. Louise stood and caught the attention of the bartender who was looking at Jack with suspicion as he tried to stand. Banned from Argo was having a rather disappointing affect on him, she realised, as with a grimace, Leslie Fish’s lyrics hammered out of the Jukebox, accompanied by most of the bar as they joined in with the chorus.
Pointing at the Doctor, who was busy righting his stool, Louise Ruth said in a loud voice, ‘Could I have a pint of John Smiths here for… John Smith.’ Both Louise and Ianto burst out laughing as Jack, eventually regaining his feet, also began laughing. People in his vicinity grabbed hold of their drinks, protectively, in case he fell again.
‘A Pimms for flyboy here and mine’s a pint of Stella… unless I’m paying, then it’s a Fosters,’ she added, looking around at the group. Turning back to the barman he shook his head and motioned them towards the door.
‘I think we better disappear.’ Jack said as he regained some of his composure.
‘Pity Benton wasn’t here… he actually does that.’ Ianto took hold of Jack as the Doctor guided Louise Ruth, out of the pub, careful to keep her as far from his coat as possible.
Standing on the on the pavement outside the Angel public house in County Durham, checking the power level on his Sontaran bracelet, the afore-mentioned, Regimental Sergeant Major John Benton leaned slightly on the bonnet of his SUV, his mind filled with thoughts. As a sixty-year-old man in the body of a twenty-five-year-old, he was worried.
Driving the Doctor was never a problem, he’d been doing it for more years than he could mention, or remember, it was just the fact that things seemed to go on and on. Old age usually brought about rest and retirement, but not for him, or the Brigadier for that matter. He was in the same boat having been cloned, like him by the Sontarans then left with a body that could do more than he wanted it to. His wife of thirty years had long since passed away and his children were grown up and believed him dead.
Then there was the Doctor… not his usual self to say the least. After the battle with the Rani he had retreated into himself spending most of his time in the TARDIS, his space time machine, going nowhere… bit like him.
Holding the bracelet up towards the street light he could see the power bars rise as it drew in energy from the ambient light given off. He was always happier when the bracelet was fully charged. Pulling his arm away Benton smiled as Jack and Ianto came staggering out of the Angle, the Doctor and Louise Ruth in tow, all singing ‘Banned from Argo’.
We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or four, but Argo doesn't want us anymore.
Reaching their SUV Jack tried insisting that he was sober enough to drive but Ianto wasn’t having any of it.
‘We’ll be ok Ianto… I have a plan…’ Jack fell forward into Ianto’s arms almost unconscious.
‘I think the plan is that it’s bed for you young man,’ Ianto said with a smile. It seemed strange having to look after Jack. It had always been the other way round. Ianto threw him bodily into the back seat, while Jack sang under his breath, ‘we're banned from Argo every one.’ Ianto gave them a casual wave, from the driver’s seat then drove off.
Louise Ruth had a strange smile on her face, one Benton recognised as someone that has had too much to drink and was trying to hide it. Being drunk, Benton mused, was a state of mind. If you really wanted to be sober you could be, it’s just that most drinkers didn’t want to be. Coming to one’s sensors can be instantaneous, or take hours of sleep and rest.
For Louise Ruth it happened immediately when she saw the Doctor fold in two and fall to the floor. Rolling him over, she realised that he wasn’t breathing.
‘Get an ambulance… now!’ She shouted at Benton as she checked his carotid artery and found no pulse. Remembering that he had two hearts she also added, ‘Make it one sympathetic to our cause.’
Ripping open his shirt she lent forward, her ear close to his chest. Nothing rose, nothing fell and there was no sign of his hearts beating. Trying desperately to remember the basic first-aid course she’d done ages ago, she ran her hand down his sternum and located its base. She placed the heel of her hand in the centre and, not sure whether to pick left or right, locked out both arms and rocked forward.
‘Nelly the elephant packed her trunk and said goodbye to the circus. Off she went with a trumpity trump. Trump, trump, trump.’ Each chest compression timed with the words from the song until fifteen had been completed. Moving up towards his mouth she extended his neck and sealing his nose formed a complete seal around his mouth and inflated his lungs. Rocking back wards she repeated the action, and then returned to his chest.
‘Nelly the elephant packed her trunk and said goodbye to the circus. Off she went with a trumpity trump. Trump, trump, trump.’ Returning to his mouth she gave him two more inflations as tears ran freely down her face.
‘Breath you bastard breath,’ she murmured, as she continued with the chest compressions. ‘Nelly the elephant…’
Benton clicked off the radio and stepped back from the SUV. He could see Louise Ruth performing cardio pulmonary respiration on the Doctor but knew that he was needed in guiding in the air ambulance that would winch him up from the street. Removing a small ‘mag light’ from his pocket he waited, blotting out Louise Ruth’s frantic singing as he tried to listen for the approaching helicopter.
‘Nelly the elephant packed her trunk and said goodbye to the circus,’ she continued to sing as she thrust the heel of her hand, fingers entwined, into the Doctor’s chest.
After ten minutes she felt a wave of tiredness wash over her, he body begging her to stop. Her vision was beginning to blur as her oxygen starved brain began to hallucinate. ‘Off she went with a trumpity trump. Trump, trump, trump.’ It would be so easy to give up, to sit back and relax, taking in a deep breath for herself and saying her goodbyes to the Doctor...
‘No!’ she almost shouted as she bent forward and breathed for him once more. ‘You’re not going to die… you’re not going to die.’ Looking down, the Doctor’s face was pale under the yellow street light as he lay in the gutter, his shirt ripped open and his hairless chest, bare for everyone to see.
She was more tired now than she had ever been in her life. The futility of what she was doing filled her to the point that if she didn’t give up she would black out from lack from oxygen starvation herself. The words from the song rang in her mind as her body took over compressing and inflating, her conscious thought almost lost in the moment. She didn’t know how much longer she could go on but it couldn’t be much longer.
Benton saw the distress in her eyes and placing a hand on her shoulder gave it a squeeze. ‘Leave it Louise… he’s dead. Don’t worry… the Doctor has this trick, when he dies he regenerates. He looks different but he’s the same Doctor… well sort of.’
She felt the pressure to stop, filling her soul as she relaxed. With tears streaming down her face she sat back. If she walked away… the Doctor, as she knew him, was dead. Her vision was blurred with tears and her wrists ached from the repetition of pressure she placed on them. Deep down she felt sick and light headed as if all her world had come crashing down around her. From being relaxed and happy to total devastation had only taken minutes, but her plans, her entire future had changed.
She had gone from ‘Banned from Argo,’ to ‘Nelly the elephant,’ in one agonising moment.
This is the song Banned from Argo, if anyone wants to hear it. (It’s a brilliant video too!)
Varosha 3/8
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, The Doctor (10), OFC, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, Benton
Parings: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Neither Torchwood or Doctor Who are mine
Summary: The Rani wants revenge
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
A/N: This is a sequel to Doctor Who’s Nightmares
Prologue here
‘So tell me about this place Jack… I mean how could something like this go unnoticed in this day and age?’ Draining his glass Jack looked around for Ianto, it had been his turn to buy the drinks. Seeing him return with a tray filled with three pints, Jack turned his attention back to Louise Ruth, who had just fed a handful of twenty pence coins into the Jukebox.
‘Quite simply,’ Jack began, ‘a rift opened up above the city back in 1974… a rift like none seen on Earth even today. All sorts of alien activity took place, which the Cypriot government couldn’t control.’ Ianto returned placing the tray on the table in front of them, just as the Jukebox began hammering out ‘Banned from Argo’ by Leslie Fish. Smiling, each took their pint, Jack removing Ianto’s for him.
‘You put that on, on purpose?’ Jack accused, and then smiling added, ‘There actually is a space port called Argo.’ Turning towards Ianto Jack added, ‘Did I ever tell you about the space port Argo?’ Ianto shook his head as he joined them. Putting a hand in one pocket Ianto pulled out a packet of dry roasted peanuts and threw them at Louise Ruth who smiled at the memory. Only two weeks previous their lives had been saved by a packet of pork scratchings and the memory of that occasion was fresh in their minds.
‘I met this woman there with six breasts… three either side… boy was she fun. A guy didn’t know where to start.’ Ianto, who was familiar enough with Jack’s stories to know when to blot them out, ignored him as the sound of Leslie Fish’s lyrics, in the background, brought a smile to his face.
And we're banned from Argo every one, Banned from Argo just for having a little fun.
‘I was once so drunk I threw a window frame through a T.V. screen… how ironic,’ Jack added as Louise Ruth burst out laughing.
‘Yours and Jack’s are Stella and mine was going to be a Black Sheep… but they didn’t have any… so I’ve got a pint of John Smiths extra smooth… very nice.’ Jack patted Ianto’s backside and smiled.
‘Just like you my friend… extra smooth.’ Louise Ruth opened the packet and offered them to Jack and Ianto who both refused. ‘Any way… where was I? Oh yes Famagusta.’ Ianto sat down and immediately took a sip from his pint. ‘In 1974 a rift opened up above the town of Varosha in Famagusta. The Greeks didn’t know what to do and were in a state of flux. Seeing this and misunderstanding it as weakness the Turkish military invaded and decided to carve up the island. The Greek Cypriots in the north were forced to move to the south side of the line and the Turkish Cypriots from the south were forced to move north.’
‘I know all of that from history… what I want to know is what happened in Varosha.’ Louise Ruth asked while chewing on the dry roasted nuts and washing them down with a mouthful of Stella Artois.
‘The Greek Cypriot citizens in Varosha fled from the Turkish invasion in terror, but expected to return to their homes within days. Instead, the Turks seized the empty city and, realising what they had, wrapped it up in fencing and wire. They forbid anyone from entering it to this day.’
‘What did they find, Jack… I mean… what was there?’ Ianto asked a look of worry on his face.
‘What they found was a town crawling with aliens of every size and description… but not just aliens… humans that had been taken by the rift at some point, altered, then spat out like so much garbage…’ A darkness passed over Jack’s face and Ianto shuddered, his mind going back to Jonah Bevan and all the others at Flat Holm, no wonder Jack had set the place up.
‘What happened to them Jack?’ Ianto whispered, his throat drying as he spoke.
‘Not knowing what they were… the Turkish shot them.’ Jack drank deeply from his pint, Ianto following suit.
‘Not sure what else to do, they fenced it off from the public and stationed an army unit around the town to stop people entering. The UN brought a troop in and UNIT took over with Torchwood as advisors.’
‘And this had been kept a secret since 1974? Someone must know about this… I mean how can you keep an entire town fenced off for that long?’ Louise Ruth asked, almost halfway through her pint.
‘As I said,’ Jack added taking a pull at his pint, realising that Louise Ruth was ahead of him by about a quarter of a glass. ‘The Turkish army patrol the outer edges of the town and anything that ventures near enough they take pot shots at. A number of soldiers have gone missing but they’re reported as training accidents.’ Louise took another mouthful of her pint almost draining the glass in the process.
‘What about the people that lived there before… don’t they remember any strange goings on?’ Jack raised his glass and managed a mouthful but had to stop. He was only halfway down his glass and Louise Ruth had almost finished hers. The Jukebox went silent as the voices in the room became more perceptible, intruding on their conversation. With a smile Louise Ruth took another mouthful as Leslie Fish began a second time singing Banned from Argo.
‘A lot of people were lost during the fighting… I mean lost… not just killed… but actually lost. They have a tree in Nicosia with the names and photographs of all the missing pinned onto it. Believe me there’s a lot.’ Jack picked up his pint one more time and noticed Louise Ruth had finished hers and was looking around for a gap in the bar. Looking across at Ianto, who was taking his second sip from his pint, he wondered if he should try to keep up with her. Then the lyrics of the song invaded his thought patterns and memories flooded back as he listened.
Our captain's tastes were simple but his methods were complex, we found him with five partners each of a different world and sex…
‘My shout… Ianto?’ Louise Ruth asked, while standing and walking towards the bar.
‘Err… no thanks… still have this one see,’ Ianto said with a smile on his face. The lyrics weren’t lost on him, Louise Ruth realised. Jack had another try at his and managed to leave only a quarter in the bottom of his glass.
‘Same again… and perhaps a packet of cheese and onion to keep it company,’ he said not too sure what he was doing. Louise Ruth smiled as she fished inside her bag for her purse.
‘I’ll have a packet of cheese and onion too,’ Ianto added as he went for his third mouthful, enjoying the taste. Jack smiled his usual smile and squeezed Ianto’s knee under the table.
‘Can I persuade you to stay at the hotel tonight, Jack, or are you off helping the Doctor?’ Ianto asked, not daring to make eye contact with Jack.
‘There’s an old Irish phrase about gentle persuasion, which goes something like, “strong words softly spoken.” What it means, Ianto, is that talking freely makes you sound vulnerable. That’s why I never talk serious while I’m drinking. Of course I’ll stay at the hotel tonight… but I’m not too sure about sleeping.’ Ianto smiled as Louise Ruth joined them, placing yet another pint in front of Jack.
Five minutes later, the Jukebox kicked in a third time with Banned from Argo, causing Jack to smile so much he almost burst out laughing.
‘I always like to watch people when they think there’s no one observing them. You can pick up a lot about their true personality when they’re off guard.’ Louise Ruth said pointing to a group of people on a table opposite. ‘You see their body language gives it away. It tells you everything you need to know about them. I mean… look at that one,’ she gestured towards a rather drunk looking young man that appeared to be thinking whether going home right about now was a good idea as he sang Banned for Argo in a rather off tone voice that made Jack wince.
‘The wheel’s still moving but the hamster’s long gone,’ Louise Ruth added with a smile. She shook her head and took another mouthful of Stella. Jack tried to follow her but found that trying to keep up with Louise Ruth was an exercise in futility. The lyrics of the song, repeated so many times, began to sound catchy, he thought as yet another chorus thundered out above the noise of the drinkers.
And we're banned from Argo every one…
***
Ten o’clock came and went and a group of seven women, all dressed in the same shirt, advertising ‘Janet’s Hen Party,’ staggered through the front doors, more than a little drunk, to the sound of Banned from Argo, which Louise Ruth insisted on playing on the Jukebox.
Listening, Jack realised that most of the crowd were singing along to the chorus, no one complaining. He overheard two men, sitting on a table behind them as they surveyed the newly arrived group.
‘I’m going to get so drunk that at least one of those girls over there will look attractive.’
‘Don’t be so stupid,’ his drinking companion announced. ‘If you drink that much you’ll kill yourself. I mean… look at that fat one…she must be about twenty stone at least…hasn’t she ever heard of a salad?’
Jack smiled and shook his head; the folly of youth he thought. If only the young guy realised that curvy women were so much more fun than their stick-figure counterparts.
Taking a mouthful from her tenth pint of the night, Louise Ruth smiled. Jack was still trying to finish off his ninth and she could see he was feeling it.
‘So… Louise Ruth… you’re into people watching in supermarkets, I’m told?’ Jack asked, realising that if she was talking she wasn’t drinking.
‘Sort of… I mean… I hate queues. In fact I shop in the middle of the night just so I don’t have to stand in line. If I’m forced to shop during the day I never buy more than twelve items or less. I even watch the insomniac man or woman in front of me emptying their basket. I count the items they place on the conveyer belt you know, and if they have more than twelve, even one more, I’ll grass the bastard up and demand that they are shoved into a no limit line. Hey… I know my rights. Even if they pick up a chocolate bar or packet of chewing gum at the checkout and it puts him over the limit they’re out of there, even if I have to drag him out myself.’
Ianto took a tentative sip from his third pint and chewed on a mouth full of crisps while picturing Louise Ruth throwing the twenty stone women in the Hen Night t-shirt, out of a supermarket, and shivered. Banned from Argo, pumped out from the Jukebox for the umpteenth time, the chorus more familiar to him now than his sister’s husband, whom he’d never seen since the 456 incident.
Lifting her pint to her lips, Louise Ruth saw the look of anguish on Jack’s face as he contemplated the pint in front of him. Just then both doors burst open and a rather dishevelled Doctor walked in, blue pin stripped suit, red Converse trainers and his brown coat flapping behind him.
‘Hello…’ was all he said, not his usual flamboyant self, Louise Ruth realised.
‘I see he got the coat cleaned Doc.’ Jack said and all three burst out laughing.
Looking at the state Jack was in, the Doctor hugged his coat protectively to his chest. ‘Err… if anyone’s interested… I managed to track her down. Aren’t I brilliant?’
All three stopped laughing and stared back at the Doctor. ‘I thought that would get your attention. Not too sure it’s finding the Rani or me being brilliant… but I’ll let that go this time.’ The Doctor pulled up a stool and sat at their table as Jack tried to concentrate. ‘Jack was right… her TARDIS is giving off quite a strong signal. She’s smack, bang in the middle of the ghost town of Varosha in Cyprus. Allons-y,’ the Doctor added as he stood up, his stool falling on its side. ‘We’ve got to go… now… and stop her.’ Turning the Doctor walked towards the door then turned when he realise that no one was following him.
Louise Ruth looked at the Doctor and noted that something was wrong but filed it away in the back of her mind. He was paler than usual but nothing too drastic, she realised. Perhaps he’d been working too hard, she mused to herself.
‘We’ll come Doctor… don’t get us wrong… but… well… I’ve just got a fresh one, Jack’s battling away at his and Ianto… Ianto’s still on his third.’ Jack burst out laughing and, standing, got his foot caught in the hem of his great coat and fell backwards crashing into a table behind him spilling drinks everywhere. It was Ianto’s turn to laugh, quickly followed by Louise Ruth. Even the Doctor joined in, despite himself.
‘Perhaps I’ll have a half…’ the Doctor added with a smile. Louise stood and caught the attention of the bartender who was looking at Jack with suspicion as he tried to stand. Banned from Argo was having a rather disappointing affect on him, she realised, as with a grimace, Leslie Fish’s lyrics hammered out of the Jukebox, accompanied by most of the bar as they joined in with the chorus.
Pointing at the Doctor, who was busy righting his stool, Louise Ruth said in a loud voice, ‘Could I have a pint of John Smiths here for… John Smith.’ Both Louise and Ianto burst out laughing as Jack, eventually regaining his feet, also began laughing. People in his vicinity grabbed hold of their drinks, protectively, in case he fell again.
‘A Pimms for flyboy here and mine’s a pint of Stella… unless I’m paying, then it’s a Fosters,’ she added, looking around at the group. Turning back to the barman he shook his head and motioned them towards the door.
‘I think we better disappear.’ Jack said as he regained some of his composure.
‘Pity Benton wasn’t here… he actually does that.’ Ianto took hold of Jack as the Doctor guided Louise Ruth, out of the pub, careful to keep her as far from his coat as possible.
Standing on the on the pavement outside the Angel public house in County Durham, checking the power level on his Sontaran bracelet, the afore-mentioned, Regimental Sergeant Major John Benton leaned slightly on the bonnet of his SUV, his mind filled with thoughts. As a sixty-year-old man in the body of a twenty-five-year-old, he was worried.
Driving the Doctor was never a problem, he’d been doing it for more years than he could mention, or remember, it was just the fact that things seemed to go on and on. Old age usually brought about rest and retirement, but not for him, or the Brigadier for that matter. He was in the same boat having been cloned, like him by the Sontarans then left with a body that could do more than he wanted it to. His wife of thirty years had long since passed away and his children were grown up and believed him dead.
Then there was the Doctor… not his usual self to say the least. After the battle with the Rani he had retreated into himself spending most of his time in the TARDIS, his space time machine, going nowhere… bit like him.
Holding the bracelet up towards the street light he could see the power bars rise as it drew in energy from the ambient light given off. He was always happier when the bracelet was fully charged. Pulling his arm away Benton smiled as Jack and Ianto came staggering out of the Angle, the Doctor and Louise Ruth in tow, all singing ‘Banned from Argo’.
We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or four, but Argo doesn't want us anymore.
Reaching their SUV Jack tried insisting that he was sober enough to drive but Ianto wasn’t having any of it.
‘We’ll be ok Ianto… I have a plan…’ Jack fell forward into Ianto’s arms almost unconscious.
‘I think the plan is that it’s bed for you young man,’ Ianto said with a smile. It seemed strange having to look after Jack. It had always been the other way round. Ianto threw him bodily into the back seat, while Jack sang under his breath, ‘we're banned from Argo every one.’ Ianto gave them a casual wave, from the driver’s seat then drove off.
Louise Ruth had a strange smile on her face, one Benton recognised as someone that has had too much to drink and was trying to hide it. Being drunk, Benton mused, was a state of mind. If you really wanted to be sober you could be, it’s just that most drinkers didn’t want to be. Coming to one’s sensors can be instantaneous, or take hours of sleep and rest.
For Louise Ruth it happened immediately when she saw the Doctor fold in two and fall to the floor. Rolling him over, she realised that he wasn’t breathing.
‘Get an ambulance… now!’ She shouted at Benton as she checked his carotid artery and found no pulse. Remembering that he had two hearts she also added, ‘Make it one sympathetic to our cause.’
Ripping open his shirt she lent forward, her ear close to his chest. Nothing rose, nothing fell and there was no sign of his hearts beating. Trying desperately to remember the basic first-aid course she’d done ages ago, she ran her hand down his sternum and located its base. She placed the heel of her hand in the centre and, not sure whether to pick left or right, locked out both arms and rocked forward.
‘Nelly the elephant packed her trunk and said goodbye to the circus. Off she went with a trumpity trump. Trump, trump, trump.’ Each chest compression timed with the words from the song until fifteen had been completed. Moving up towards his mouth she extended his neck and sealing his nose formed a complete seal around his mouth and inflated his lungs. Rocking back wards she repeated the action, and then returned to his chest.
‘Nelly the elephant packed her trunk and said goodbye to the circus. Off she went with a trumpity trump. Trump, trump, trump.’ Returning to his mouth she gave him two more inflations as tears ran freely down her face.
‘Breath you bastard breath,’ she murmured, as she continued with the chest compressions. ‘Nelly the elephant…’
Benton clicked off the radio and stepped back from the SUV. He could see Louise Ruth performing cardio pulmonary respiration on the Doctor but knew that he was needed in guiding in the air ambulance that would winch him up from the street. Removing a small ‘mag light’ from his pocket he waited, blotting out Louise Ruth’s frantic singing as he tried to listen for the approaching helicopter.
‘Nelly the elephant packed her trunk and said goodbye to the circus,’ she continued to sing as she thrust the heel of her hand, fingers entwined, into the Doctor’s chest.
After ten minutes she felt a wave of tiredness wash over her, he body begging her to stop. Her vision was beginning to blur as her oxygen starved brain began to hallucinate. ‘Off she went with a trumpity trump. Trump, trump, trump.’ It would be so easy to give up, to sit back and relax, taking in a deep breath for herself and saying her goodbyes to the Doctor...
‘No!’ she almost shouted as she bent forward and breathed for him once more. ‘You’re not going to die… you’re not going to die.’ Looking down, the Doctor’s face was pale under the yellow street light as he lay in the gutter, his shirt ripped open and his hairless chest, bare for everyone to see.
She was more tired now than she had ever been in her life. The futility of what she was doing filled her to the point that if she didn’t give up she would black out from lack from oxygen starvation herself. The words from the song rang in her mind as her body took over compressing and inflating, her conscious thought almost lost in the moment. She didn’t know how much longer she could go on but it couldn’t be much longer.
Benton saw the distress in her eyes and placing a hand on her shoulder gave it a squeeze. ‘Leave it Louise… he’s dead. Don’t worry… the Doctor has this trick, when he dies he regenerates. He looks different but he’s the same Doctor… well sort of.’
She felt the pressure to stop, filling her soul as she relaxed. With tears streaming down her face she sat back. If she walked away… the Doctor, as she knew him, was dead. Her vision was blurred with tears and her wrists ached from the repetition of pressure she placed on them. Deep down she felt sick and light headed as if all her world had come crashing down around her. From being relaxed and happy to total devastation had only taken minutes, but her plans, her entire future had changed.
She had gone from ‘Banned from Argo,’ to ‘Nelly the elephant,’ in one agonising moment.
Click to viewThis is the song Banned from Argo, if anyone wants to hear it. (It’s a brilliant video too!)
Varosha 3/8