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Part two of drox's fanfic! Part one is here.
Fitz knocks on the bathroom door. 'Two shakes,' calls Benny. 'You know, it's a shame we let it go to waste! We could have found an enormous piece of toast, and-' She opens the door and looks at Fitz, startled.
'You were expecting someone else?' says Fitz, pushing the armful of clothes at her. She takes them, awkwardly. Both of them are relieved she's wearing a bathrobe. She pushes the door shut again.
'Well,' she says, with a nervous laugh. 'It's not every day you get to see a honey-dipped Doctor.'
'Um... so, uh, Benny,' says Fitz through the door. 'So, what's going on? How come you were in the hive?'
'Professional interest,' she says. 'No, professorial interest. I'm trying to find the missing Professor: Arphaxad Anthill.'
'Who he?'
'No-one's exactly sure.' She emerges, wearing a T-shirt that says 'Touch The Octopus'. He squints suspiciously at her chest. 'Ahem. It's not that I'm not grateful, but I can't help being curious about why you two were there to haul me out.'
'The Doctor didn't say,' says Fitz. He frowns. 'He didn't mention this Anthill bloke, either.'
'You know what he's like,' says Benny. They share an eyeroll. 'Actually, you probably know this one a lot better than I do.'
'Hope so,' says Fitz, at which Benny gives him a cheeky look which almost makes him swallow his cigarette. 'Right!' he says, in between coughing. 'Off to the console room, then.'
#
The Doctor's happily twiddling the controls of the TARDIS. The sleeves of his coat are a couple of inches too long, thinks Benny, those long, fine fingers poking out like the fingers of a little boy. It shouldn't still matter to her, she thinks, she shouldn't still notice, but he couldn't be more different from the old Doctor, her Doctor. She loved that rumpled old man fiercely. His replacement - no, his reinvention, because however she feels, this is the same man - this new Doctor... well, those long fingers of his throw something new into the equation. He's gone from crumpled to dashing, avuncular to romantic, with a deadly combination of sex and wide-eyed alien innocence.
He still shouldn't be allowed to dress himself, though. Or eat yoghurt out of a tub while piloting a time machine.
'Doctor,' says Fitz, 'Who's Arphaxad Anthill?'
'Never heard of him.' The Doctor sucks yoghurt off the spoon in a way that makes the tips of Benny's toes feel odd.
'He's a genius,' explains Benny. 'He appeared from nowhere on the galactic nets, publishing revolutionary theories on topology and group theory-'
'Hardly your field, Benny,' says the Doctor thoughtfully.
'- chronostatics and horogenesis,' she finishes. He blinks: ah, she thinks, that got your attention. 'Years, no, centuries in advance of anyone else's work. But nobody knows who he is. Nobody's been able to trace him, to find him. He's got a dozen awards waiting for him if he'd only show up to claim them.'
The Doctor grins. 'And you think you've found him.'
'I think the Myriarchy have got him. As in, captured. His papers stopped appearing on the nets earlier this year - I've been trying to tracking his communications back to their source for months. Given the pattern of the relays he's been using, they've got to have come from somewhere in this volume of space - only four stars to choose from, and this planet just happens to have a human-breathable atmosphere and an advanced life form.'
'Who just happen to be time travellers,' says the Doctor. 'At least, according to myth.'
'Maybe they haven't got him,' says Fitz. 'Maybe he's got them.'
'Hmmm.' The Doctor balances his yoghurt tub atop some arcane piece of instrumentation. 'Never mind time travel - if this Anthill person has worked out how to communicate with the Myriarchy, then he's really made a breakthrough. No-one's ever managed to do that - not the Time Lords, not the Articulate Worlds, nobody.'
'Even the TARDIS won't let us talk to them?' says Fitz.
'Maybe we could communicate by doing a waggle dance!' Fitz and Benny look at him blankly. 'You know - how bees tell each other where the yummiest pollen is. I've always wanted to do a waggle dance.' He demonstrates. Fitz and Benny look at him even more blankly.
#
Podgorney's World is bleak and cold and low on oxygen, especially at this altitude. The Doctor gives Fitz a safety lecture and hands him a small tank and respirator. 'It's only for the ten minute walk to the hive,' he says. His voice sounds distant in the thin air, but he doesn't need any O2 himself, surprise surprise.
Benny's brought her own kit. She stands with her hands in the pockets of her anorak, snorting oxygen through a tube and goggling at them (literally). Fitz tries putting on his dark glasses, but they don't do much to keep out the faceful of needles that's the wind here, and besides, he can't see a thing.
'Right. The sooner we're quote indoors unquote again, the better.' The Doctor sets off at a brisk walk.
They slip back into the hive through a thick-walled tunnel that curves up and then down and then opens out into one of the chambers, where they take off their oxygen gear. The Doctor says the hive pressurises itself, and starts on a lengthy explanation of the chemistry involved as they follow him, waving their flashlights.
'Let's avoid the brood chambers this time,' says Benny. 'No more accidents.'
'You know,' says Fitz, 'that grub at the bottom of the honey is the only living thing we saw in the whole place on our last visit.'
'Oh, we're in a disused area,' says the Doctor. 'You can tell from the rough walls. Best to avoid giant bees you can't talk to. For as long as you can, anyway.'
'So where are we going, then?'
'The hive has four centres,' says the Doctor. 'If Professor Anthill is here, he'll probably be in one of them. We'll check them, one by one.'
He turns abruptly down a side passage. The whole thing is giving Fitz the creepy feeling that he's walking through a huge chunk of Swiss cheese. He hopes the Doctor actually knows where he's going, and isn't navigating based on the I Ching this week, or something.
The Doctor stops suddenly and holds up a hand. Benny and Fitz manage not to collide with him. He turns, sharply, to face them, frowning.
The hive shakes under their feet. Just a quick little shake, like a cat putting its ears right.
'What was that?' says Benny.
'Oh shit!' says Fitz.
The floor drops and judders so hard that Fitz and the Doctor have to grab each other to stay upright.
The Doctor shouts, 'The hive is trying to dematerialise!'
'Oh, you're kidding me,' says Benny, from the floor.
'Shit! What about the TARDIS?' says Fitz. 'I mean, where's the thing taking us, where's it gonna go?'
Fitz knocks on the bathroom door. 'Two shakes,' calls Benny. 'You know, it's a shame we let it go to waste! We could have found an enormous piece of toast, and-' She opens the door and looks at Fitz, startled.
'You were expecting someone else?' says Fitz, pushing the armful of clothes at her. She takes them, awkwardly. Both of them are relieved she's wearing a bathrobe. She pushes the door shut again.
'Well,' she says, with a nervous laugh. 'It's not every day you get to see a honey-dipped Doctor.'
'Um... so, uh, Benny,' says Fitz through the door. 'So, what's going on? How come you were in the hive?'
'Professional interest,' she says. 'No, professorial interest. I'm trying to find the missing Professor: Arphaxad Anthill.'
'Who he?'
'No-one's exactly sure.' She emerges, wearing a T-shirt that says 'Touch The Octopus'. He squints suspiciously at her chest. 'Ahem. It's not that I'm not grateful, but I can't help being curious about why you two were there to haul me out.'
'The Doctor didn't say,' says Fitz. He frowns. 'He didn't mention this Anthill bloke, either.'
'You know what he's like,' says Benny. They share an eyeroll. 'Actually, you probably know this one a lot better than I do.'
'Hope so,' says Fitz, at which Benny gives him a cheeky look which almost makes him swallow his cigarette. 'Right!' he says, in between coughing. 'Off to the console room, then.'
#
The Doctor's happily twiddling the controls of the TARDIS. The sleeves of his coat are a couple of inches too long, thinks Benny, those long, fine fingers poking out like the fingers of a little boy. It shouldn't still matter to her, she thinks, she shouldn't still notice, but he couldn't be more different from the old Doctor, her Doctor. She loved that rumpled old man fiercely. His replacement - no, his reinvention, because however she feels, this is the same man - this new Doctor... well, those long fingers of his throw something new into the equation. He's gone from crumpled to dashing, avuncular to romantic, with a deadly combination of sex and wide-eyed alien innocence.
He still shouldn't be allowed to dress himself, though. Or eat yoghurt out of a tub while piloting a time machine.
'Doctor,' says Fitz, 'Who's Arphaxad Anthill?'
'Never heard of him.' The Doctor sucks yoghurt off the spoon in a way that makes the tips of Benny's toes feel odd.
'He's a genius,' explains Benny. 'He appeared from nowhere on the galactic nets, publishing revolutionary theories on topology and group theory-'
'Hardly your field, Benny,' says the Doctor thoughtfully.
'- chronostatics and horogenesis,' she finishes. He blinks: ah, she thinks, that got your attention. 'Years, no, centuries in advance of anyone else's work. But nobody knows who he is. Nobody's been able to trace him, to find him. He's got a dozen awards waiting for him if he'd only show up to claim them.'
The Doctor grins. 'And you think you've found him.'
'I think the Myriarchy have got him. As in, captured. His papers stopped appearing on the nets earlier this year - I've been trying to tracking his communications back to their source for months. Given the pattern of the relays he's been using, they've got to have come from somewhere in this volume of space - only four stars to choose from, and this planet just happens to have a human-breathable atmosphere and an advanced life form.'
'Who just happen to be time travellers,' says the Doctor. 'At least, according to myth.'
'Maybe they haven't got him,' says Fitz. 'Maybe he's got them.'
'Hmmm.' The Doctor balances his yoghurt tub atop some arcane piece of instrumentation. 'Never mind time travel - if this Anthill person has worked out how to communicate with the Myriarchy, then he's really made a breakthrough. No-one's ever managed to do that - not the Time Lords, not the Articulate Worlds, nobody.'
'Even the TARDIS won't let us talk to them?' says Fitz.
'Maybe we could communicate by doing a waggle dance!' Fitz and Benny look at him blankly. 'You know - how bees tell each other where the yummiest pollen is. I've always wanted to do a waggle dance.' He demonstrates. Fitz and Benny look at him even more blankly.
#
Podgorney's World is bleak and cold and low on oxygen, especially at this altitude. The Doctor gives Fitz a safety lecture and hands him a small tank and respirator. 'It's only for the ten minute walk to the hive,' he says. His voice sounds distant in the thin air, but he doesn't need any O2 himself, surprise surprise.
Benny's brought her own kit. She stands with her hands in the pockets of her anorak, snorting oxygen through a tube and goggling at them (literally). Fitz tries putting on his dark glasses, but they don't do much to keep out the faceful of needles that's the wind here, and besides, he can't see a thing.
'Right. The sooner we're quote indoors unquote again, the better.' The Doctor sets off at a brisk walk.
They slip back into the hive through a thick-walled tunnel that curves up and then down and then opens out into one of the chambers, where they take off their oxygen gear. The Doctor says the hive pressurises itself, and starts on a lengthy explanation of the chemistry involved as they follow him, waving their flashlights.
'Let's avoid the brood chambers this time,' says Benny. 'No more accidents.'
'You know,' says Fitz, 'that grub at the bottom of the honey is the only living thing we saw in the whole place on our last visit.'
'Oh, we're in a disused area,' says the Doctor. 'You can tell from the rough walls. Best to avoid giant bees you can't talk to. For as long as you can, anyway.'
'So where are we going, then?'
'The hive has four centres,' says the Doctor. 'If Professor Anthill is here, he'll probably be in one of them. We'll check them, one by one.'
He turns abruptly down a side passage. The whole thing is giving Fitz the creepy feeling that he's walking through a huge chunk of Swiss cheese. He hopes the Doctor actually knows where he's going, and isn't navigating based on the I Ching this week, or something.
The Doctor stops suddenly and holds up a hand. Benny and Fitz manage not to collide with him. He turns, sharply, to face them, frowning.
The hive shakes under their feet. Just a quick little shake, like a cat putting its ears right.
'What was that?' says Benny.
'Oh shit!' says Fitz.
The floor drops and judders so hard that Fitz and the Doctor have to grab each other to stay upright.
The Doctor shouts, 'The hive is trying to dematerialise!'
'Oh, you're kidding me,' says Benny, from the floor.
'Shit! What about the TARDIS?' says Fitz. 'I mean, where's the thing taking us, where's it gonna go?'