Mystery Tour of 1973
Title: (Previously "Life on Mars?") Mystery Tour of 1973
Crossover: Doctor Who/Life on Mars
Parings: Sam/Annie
Rating: PG
Chapter: 1/? (I'm up to 5)
Disclaimer: As much as I would like to, I don't own these shows.
Author's Comment: My first try at a fanfiction. It's unbetaed and probably full of errors. Please comment, it makes me write more.
“You’ve got to hold on...”
The magic blue box...
“He’s not responding...”
The slim man in the pinstripe suit...
“Sam... It doesn’t work like that; he dies, you die,”
The teenage girl with the ancient grey eyes...
“You’ve got to come back.”
The man in the business suit who looked just like him...
“Clear!”
Sam’s eyes shot open at the sound of the defibrillator, suddenly wide awake; his heart racing and sweat beads trickling down his forehead. Moistening his lips with his tongue he stared up at the 70’s style wallpaper and tried to regulate his breathing. Shaking, Sam swung his legs out from his fold-out bed and put his hands over his face in distress before standing up.
Out in the street Sam walked jauntily to an unheard tune, a ham and cheese roll wrapped in a brown paper bag in his hand. As he passed a newspaper stand a headline caught his eye and he turned his head abruptly to read it; “You’re dying Sam.”
“Stop it,” he muttered under his breath, turned away from the stand and strode on towards the Police Station. Arriving at his destination he weaved through the parked cars, jogged up the steps and burst through the door.
“Oi Cinderella! You’re late to the ball!” DCI Gene Hunt bellowed to Sam, “What happened? Did your pumpkin coach get a flat?”
“No, my glass slippers gave me blisters,” Sam replied sarcastically and walked to his desk, plonking down in his seat.
“Um boss?” Chris came up to Sam’s desk, his arms unpractically full and gum in his mouth.
Sam looked up expectantly.
“Here’s the report you wanted on Frank Morgan; he’s being locked up thanks to us,” Chris shuffled through the toppling pile of papers in his arms randomly before finding the document and handed it to Sam. “Oh, and Annie’s got your coffee,”
“Thanks Chris,” Sam smiled weakly.
Chris smiled and nodded before walking away. Sam spotted Annie weaving through the unorganised muddle of desks with a coffee in her hand and felt his heart skip a beat.
“Hey Sam,” Annie smiled, “I got you a coffee. Is that a cheese and bacon roll you’ve got there? Are you going to eat it?”
“Thanks, it’s a ham and cheese roll... actually. Take it,”
“Thank you; I haven’t had breakfast all morning. I’ve been up since 6am helping Phyllis sort out our filing system,”
Sam looked up as Gene slammed his phone back onto the holder and waltzed out of his office bellowing, “Oi! You lot! Got a reported gang brawl happening right now in China Lane. Now MOVE IT!”
Once in the car Sam put on his belt, noting with disgust how Gene didn’t.
“Guv, if you’re going to drive at a thousand miles per hour; at least learn where the brake is when you go swerving like a lunatic around the bends!” Sam grimaced as Gene sped around a right-angled corner in a narrow street.
“You mean this thing you pansy?” Gene put his foot down hard on the accelerator.
Sam shut his eyes tightly as the view from the car’s windows became a blur. Immediately as he did this, an image of a big blue box, the same magical blue box from his dream flashed before his eyes. “We’re coming to save you Sam,” a crackling voice spoke from the radio. Sam opened his eyes in shock.
“God I hate this song- been hearing it all morning. Bloody David Bowie,” Gene announced, taking his eyes off the road to adjust the radio needle to a different station.
“Don’t... take your eyes off the road!”
Sam stiffened as Gene slammed on the brakes, sending the car to a skidding stop a few feet away from the entrance to China Lane.
“How on Earth did you ever pass you driver’s test?” Sam asked as he took out his gun.
“Didn’t have to- I became a police officer you bloody Christmas tree,” Gene turned around to face the back seat where Annie, Chris and Ray were crammed in together looking rather fazed by Gene’s erratic driving, “You ready princesses?”
“I think the blood’s rushed back into my head Guv,” Chris joked feebly, before returning to chew his gum.
“Right. Let’s go!” said Gene.
All five of them jumped out of the car. Annie ran around to a couple of streets away to look for any injured people or ones who tried to leg it. Ray and Chris blocked off the other end of the lane while Sam and Gene prepared to go head on. So far no one looked into the lane, for fear of getting their head blown off if they peeked. The gunfire ceased to a halt, to be replaced by a wheezing sound and a gust of wind. Gene and Sam took this as the opportune moment and stepped in full view of the gangs.
“Halt! Police!” Sam began, but stopped.
“You are surrounded by armed bastards! Throw down your guns and be prepared to have your arse locked up for life by the Gene Genie,” Gene interrupted.
Most of the gang members started to run off in fear to the other side of the lane, but were blocked off by an armed Chris and Ray. Others who were injured were lying down on the brick or pressed themselves against the walls on either side. All dropped their guns hastily on the ground except for a man who stood, back to Gene and Sam with his gun still drawn pointing to something in the centre of the lane. A big blue box. Everyone stared at it; a big blue box in the centre of the lane. A sign on it said “Police Public Call Box”. The majority of the gang members looked plain frightened by the thing. Sam almost dropped his gun in shock. The blue box from his dream. “We are coming to save you Sam,” echoed in his head. The door of the blue box creaked open and a teenage girl stepped out. The teenage girl with the ancient grey eyes; she was in his dream too. A gunshot pierced through the air simultaneously as the armed man fired his gun. The girl fell to the ground, the bullet going into her chest. Gene jumped and tackled the armed man to the ground, prying the gun from his hands.
“SAM!” shouted a slim man with chocolate brown hair as he sprung out of the blue box and crouched beside the girl. He was wearing a blue pinstripe coat and a long flowing tan coat. Gently he stroked her cheek and whispered to her, “Oh Sam.”