Ninth Doctor, Jamie, Zoe -- "Read Me" -- I of III
Here's the first half installment of my Second Doctor Cliche Ficathon story, written for sushigal007 to the prompt "The mindwipe on Jamie and Zoe fails after the Time War and the Doctor gets a message on the psychic paper from them." Part Two (real life having intervened) will probably appear tomorrow. The ficathon masterlist is here.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Zoe, Jamie
Genre: gen, adventure, angst
Rating: PG for stuff blowing up
Spoilers: time war in general
Summary: When a stranger warns Zoe of a sinister trap, neither of them expect to spend the next few hours at one anothers' throats.
Title:
Read Me
Part I
Few people were aware that psychic paper, created by the Space Agents for purposes of espionage, was capable of amplifying its holder's thoughts as well as displaying them locally. On the night when Agent Pallister, nee Herriot, was abducted from her bunk in Charon's seedy planetside hotel, half the port was plagued with nightmares, but only one person took them seriously enough to trace them back to her.
She had alarmed the room, and came awake in a cold sweat when a faint buzz sounded from outside the door, instantly reaching for the blaster in the travel pack she was using for a pillow. The door, though, opened silently; the alarm had been disabled, and the tall man wreathed in the hall's shadows loomed large in her vision, his head nearly brushing the low lintel as he stooped to come in.
Shifting, she brought the weapon to bear under the pillow, but something glowed in his hand and it failed to fire. This wasn't an immediate problem. The closer he came, the more vulnerable he was. From here, she could disable him in any of a dozen ways. The hallway light washed her face pale and cut at the sharp planes of his jaw; his hair bristled like a thin halo, framed against the open door.
He trembled slightly, a sycamore feeling the nip of steel at its roots, and spoke in a dead man's voice.
"You got two minutes to get out of here, Zoe. Then the whole building's gonna blow out into space."
She swung her legs out of the bunk, not waiting to ask. He was out the door before she had gained her feet, and out of the section at a ground-eating lope before she caught up, her pack sliding on like a second skin.
They reached the next section lock, and he pointed left: supplies, medical, planetside center. "That way and live," he said curtly, his fingers brushing her arm, and she made as if to obey -- then followed as he ran back into the endangered section. No explosion yet. He was running full out now, and didn't notice her company until they rounded the last corner.
By that time, she had seen the TARDIS.
The tall man faltered, shouting in anger as she sprinted past him, but the blue structure was more than the life he had promised and at that moment she would have died rather than leave it to vanish. Then the first charges blew: incendiaries at the edges and a hull-weakener in the center of the section. Zoe hit the doors of the police box and nearly bounced off, clutching at its edges as the escaping air tugged at its weight. The tall man, nearly floating in the changing pressure, hurtled up the corridor with the firestorm at his heels, and slammed into the doors as well, one arm around Zoe's waist as he fumbled for the key.
The fire hit. It spattered off a force field, streaming around them and flash-heating their little pocket of air. The TARDIS rocked on its base.
Then they were inside. And... there was not silence, but the pulsing of cool air and green lights, and a growling from the coral growth in the center of the wide room.
.o0o.
"This isn't it," she whispered.
"'Course it isn't." He raced around the central console, crunching buttons and grinding the gears. "Changed twenty times since you were last here."
"Where is he?"
He gave her a hooded look and ignored the question.
Shucking off her pack, she strode forward, halting him with a hand on his chest as he came round the console. The double heartbeat was horribly familiar.
"I knew it," she breathed. "You're a Time Lord. You -- took him and you sent us back! What have you done with him? Where is he?"
"Gone," he snapped, shoving past her.
The coral room reeled. It couldn't be -- terrible, impossible for the sly and gentle renegade to disappear with such finality. "What?" She grasped the man's arm to draw him back, but he struck her hand away.
"Gone!" he shouted, right in her face. "Gone long ago, and he asked for it!"
Her first impulse, as well as her second and third, were to kill him. But the Agency deplored mindless rage.
"Then," she said, stepping away, "you're going to set this right." She stooped for her pack.
"No -- oh no." With a peal of reckless laughter, he stepped away from the console, shaking his head at the blaster. "Don't you remember? Guns don't work in here."
They hadn't, back then, in a room that looked nothing like this. With a tight smile, she fired, charring the ceiling.
The laughter died on the thin man's lips. "Great," he snarled. "Something else has changed? You have no idea how happy this makes me."
"We're going," she said, "to Culloden."
"Really? When? Where? I'm going to need coordinates. It's a big place."
"The person you're looking for has traveled in time. That leaves traces." She slid onto a seat, shaking the dark hair from her face and cradling the weapon in her lap. "You'll find him."
His teeth flashed in a sudden, unexpectedly honest grin.
"Well," he said, "why not?"
Part II
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Zoe, Jamie
Genre: gen, adventure, angst
Rating: PG for stuff blowing up
Spoilers: time war in general
Summary: When a stranger warns Zoe of a sinister trap, neither of them expect to spend the next few hours at one anothers' throats.
Title:
Read Me
Part I
Few people were aware that psychic paper, created by the Space Agents for purposes of espionage, was capable of amplifying its holder's thoughts as well as displaying them locally. On the night when Agent Pallister, nee Herriot, was abducted from her bunk in Charon's seedy planetside hotel, half the port was plagued with nightmares, but only one person took them seriously enough to trace them back to her.
She had alarmed the room, and came awake in a cold sweat when a faint buzz sounded from outside the door, instantly reaching for the blaster in the travel pack she was using for a pillow. The door, though, opened silently; the alarm had been disabled, and the tall man wreathed in the hall's shadows loomed large in her vision, his head nearly brushing the low lintel as he stooped to come in.
Shifting, she brought the weapon to bear under the pillow, but something glowed in his hand and it failed to fire. This wasn't an immediate problem. The closer he came, the more vulnerable he was. From here, she could disable him in any of a dozen ways. The hallway light washed her face pale and cut at the sharp planes of his jaw; his hair bristled like a thin halo, framed against the open door.
He trembled slightly, a sycamore feeling the nip of steel at its roots, and spoke in a dead man's voice.
"You got two minutes to get out of here, Zoe. Then the whole building's gonna blow out into space."
She swung her legs out of the bunk, not waiting to ask. He was out the door before she had gained her feet, and out of the section at a ground-eating lope before she caught up, her pack sliding on like a second skin.
They reached the next section lock, and he pointed left: supplies, medical, planetside center. "That way and live," he said curtly, his fingers brushing her arm, and she made as if to obey -- then followed as he ran back into the endangered section. No explosion yet. He was running full out now, and didn't notice her company until they rounded the last corner.
By that time, she had seen the TARDIS.
The tall man faltered, shouting in anger as she sprinted past him, but the blue structure was more than the life he had promised and at that moment she would have died rather than leave it to vanish. Then the first charges blew: incendiaries at the edges and a hull-weakener in the center of the section. Zoe hit the doors of the police box and nearly bounced off, clutching at its edges as the escaping air tugged at its weight. The tall man, nearly floating in the changing pressure, hurtled up the corridor with the firestorm at his heels, and slammed into the doors as well, one arm around Zoe's waist as he fumbled for the key.
The fire hit. It spattered off a force field, streaming around them and flash-heating their little pocket of air. The TARDIS rocked on its base.
Then they were inside. And... there was not silence, but the pulsing of cool air and green lights, and a growling from the coral growth in the center of the wide room.
.o0o.
"This isn't it," she whispered.
"'Course it isn't." He raced around the central console, crunching buttons and grinding the gears. "Changed twenty times since you were last here."
"Where is he?"
He gave her a hooded look and ignored the question.
Shucking off her pack, she strode forward, halting him with a hand on his chest as he came round the console. The double heartbeat was horribly familiar.
"I knew it," she breathed. "You're a Time Lord. You -- took him and you sent us back! What have you done with him? Where is he?"
"Gone," he snapped, shoving past her.
The coral room reeled. It couldn't be -- terrible, impossible for the sly and gentle renegade to disappear with such finality. "What?" She grasped the man's arm to draw him back, but he struck her hand away.
"Gone!" he shouted, right in her face. "Gone long ago, and he asked for it!"
Her first impulse, as well as her second and third, were to kill him. But the Agency deplored mindless rage.
"Then," she said, stepping away, "you're going to set this right." She stooped for her pack.
"No -- oh no." With a peal of reckless laughter, he stepped away from the console, shaking his head at the blaster. "Don't you remember? Guns don't work in here."
They hadn't, back then, in a room that looked nothing like this. With a tight smile, she fired, charring the ceiling.
The laughter died on the thin man's lips. "Great," he snarled. "Something else has changed? You have no idea how happy this makes me."
"We're going," she said, "to Culloden."
"Really? When? Where? I'm going to need coordinates. It's a big place."
"The person you're looking for has traveled in time. That leaves traces." She slid onto a seat, shaking the dark hair from her face and cradling the weapon in her lap. "You'll find him."
His teeth flashed in a sudden, unexpectedly honest grin.
"Well," he said, "why not?"
Part II