1x15: When in Rome... (4/4)
Title: When In Rome...
Author: spikewriter
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: The Doctor and Rose find themselves on a bit of a Roman holiday, but quickly discover that not everything is la dolce vita among the nightclub set
Author's notes: My thanks to my husband for the beta work (even if he rolled his eyes a few times) and to shinyopals and the Julies for Brit-picking and putting up with my hectic schedule
Episode 15 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following Terror in the Deep.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Virtual Series Masterlist
“Well, that’s a bit melodramatic,” was the Doctor’s first comment.
“Make all the jokes you want. I’m not letting you take Ditol, any of you. I’m the one who picked him for this expedition; I’m the one who’s responsible for him.”
As he spoke, Safir eased himself toward the door, gun still trained on the others. “Put the gun down,” the Doctor said. “We can talk about this.”
“Don’t be daft, man,” Keenon insisted, taking a step forward. “This isn’t -”
Without warning Safir fired and Keenon went down with a scream. In the instant that followed, Safir was out the door even as the Doctor and Rose rushed to make certain Keenon was alright. “I don’t see any blood,” Rose said as she knelt by him.
Keenon moaned. “Oh, Safir, what have you done?”
“I don’t see any blood, either.” The Doctor pulled out the sonic screwdriver, running it over the alien. “I’m not sure he actually hit him.”
“He didn’t.” Keenon struggled to sit upright. “He would have been more merciful if he had. I’m ruined, ruined, I tell you. I’ll be the laughing stock of all academia.”
“So nice to see your concern for your fellows,” the Doctor commented dryly. “Where would he have gone?”
“I don’t know. To find Ditol and Anwyrn, perhaps? But they’re out for the day and don’t start work until nine. We’re going to have to pack our bags and go home in shame.”
“No, we’re going to find your friend first,” the Doctor said. “Come on. Get up.”
“Where do you think we’re going find him?” Rose asked.
“Where everyone else in this seems to ends up - Club Moreli.”
# # #
“How many of those outfits did you pack?” the Doctor asked Rose as they headed for the club a few hours later, after a rather fruitless search of the area. Safir clearly didn’t want to be found, which meant their best hope was that he would indeed go to find Ditol.
“Mum took me shopping; I think it was a reaction to me getting hurt. Didn’t want her to think I didn’t appreciate them, so I brought them with me. Besides, your suit will work almost anywhere, but no matter how much the manager wants a good review, he wouldn’t let me inside if I was wearing jeans. Just be glad Mum can’t see us; she’d kill me if she knew I was wearing this to track down a gun-toting alien.”
“Who can’t shoot. That bullet impacted the wall at least four feet to the left.”
“And if it’d been four feet to the right, it might have hit you,” Rose pointed out. “Someone who doesn’t know how to shoot is often more dangerous with a weapon than someone who can; you have no idea where the bullet will land.”
He didn’t like the reminder that she knew far too much about guns and where bullets landed, but he also knew she was right. “If he tries to shoot Ditol in a crowded club...”
“Then we have to get the weapon away from him as quickly as possible.” She was falling into operation mode; he could hear it in her voice. “If we can do that, then this shouldn’t be too dangerous.”
There wasn’t anything he could add to that as they reached the club entrance. As promised, Keenon was waiting for them. “I’ve gotten everyone together,” he said. “As soon as we’re done here, the entire expedition will be leaving.” He paused. “You really aren’t going to turn us over to this Torchwood?”
“Trust me, I wouldn’t do that to my own worst enemy,” the Doctor assured him. “Well, maybe the Daleks, but I think they could handle him. Any sign of Safir?”
“No, but Anwyrn and Ditol are both inside. I haven’t let them know what’s going on yet.”
“Good man.” The Doctor turned to Rose. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Ready.”
The three of them entered the club, sailing past the host and straight for the bar. “Danilo,” Keenon called out, using what was obviously the student’s cover. “Two of your special cocktails for my friends.”
The young man smiled and set about making the concoction. As he worked, the Doctor took the opportunity to glance about the club. Not surprisingly, Derricott was there, as was Sebastian, who waved and started in their direction. “Get everything done?” the young man asked as he approached. “What you had to go running off for?”
“Mostly,” the Doctor said. “Terribly sorry about that, but you know how things are.”
“Of course. You two don’t seem the idle type, so no surprise you have things happening. Oh, please tell me you aren’t going to succumb,” he said as Ditol put two cocktails on the bar before them.”
“No, I’m going to analyze it.” Without further ado, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and began taking readings. “Vermouth, whisky - somewhat watered, I might add - simple syrup, bitters, and, oh, what’s this?”
“Probably some secret ingredient,” Sebastian said. “All the bartenders seem to have them to make their cocktails unique.”
“Yes, but most of them don’t have ingredients that aren’t usually found on Earth. Oh, Danilo!”
Something in his voice must have given Ditol a pause because he hesitated, only coming forward when Keenon gestured to him. “Yes, signore?”
“Your secret ingredient. What exactly is it?”
“Oh, signore, I could not tell you. Then everyone would attempt to -”
“Ditol, he knows you’re not Italian,” Keenon said. “Just tell him.”
Ditol gulped. “Kitcheran. I put a few drops in my drinks all the time back home. My friends love it. When I heard we were supposed to get jobs here, I brought a few bottles along and figured I’d try bartending professionally. Anwyrn and I thought it the best way to meet girls.”
Never underestimate the male ability to act stupid where women are concerned, no matter the species. Even so, the fact this had not been done with malice didn’t negate the seriousness of the situation. “And did you ever stop to think what effect that little extra element might have on human physiology?”
Another gulp. “No, sir.”
“Oh, Ditol,” Keenon said. “What have you done?”
“Does this mean I’m going to lose my grants?”
“Depends on whether or not the Doctor can fix it.”
Given the grim note in Keenon’s voice, the Doctor couldn’t help thinking Ditol was not only going to lose his grants, but would never manage to complete his advanced degree if Keenon had anything to do with it. Wasn’t much the Doctor could do about that, though; right now his concern had to be the patrons of the Club Moreli - and finding where Safir had gone with his gun. “The problem with kitcheran, if I’m remembering correctly --” and it works the same way in this galaxy as it did in the other “is that it has a cumulative effect on humans. The more their tolerance increases, the more they crave it. Now, the stuff will run out of their system within forty-eight hours or so if they don’t have any more, but it can produce some odd side effects until its cleared. All the emotional governors are off, which is why we had someone screaming in terror last night because he’s clearly worried about something and Evelyn snogging her Italian bloke.”
He glanced at Sebastian. “You’re potty about the girl, I bet. I’m afraid getting the kitcheran out of her system won’t solve her fascination with the oily one, but it might prevent her from acting on it.”
“Wait a minute.” Sebastian looked completely confused. “Are you saying that they’ve been dosed with something alien? As in little green men from Mars, alien?”
“Martians aren’t green, but, yes. Don’t worry; humans have a very simple solution that will help with the detox. You’re right about them watering the whisky, but we’re going to go one step further. Ditol, every single drink that goes out must have tonic water in it.”
“Tonic water?” Ditol asked.
“Quinine, my dear boy. Helps prevent malaria and will minimize the side effects of the kitcheran while it’s working its way out of their system. The more quinine they drink, the better it’ll be.” He turned to Sebastian. “You might not like them, but you’ve had a few of these cocktails, haven’t you?”
“Just to be companionable,” Sebastian admitted. “But I didn’t act like everyone else.”
“No, because you keep drinking your gin and tonic. Prevented the effects from taking hold. Keenon, maybe you don’t have to leave the planet; maybe you just need to relocate or find another test group.”
This was working; the Doctor could feel the threads coming together. Maybe it was a small thing, but it could well be one of those days when everybody lived. Now, if they could just find Safir...
“What are you doing here?”
Then there was the matter of Derricott to deal with. He’d stormed up to the bar, looking severely annoyed at their presence. “I thought you said your assignment didn’t have anything to do with Evelyn or her friends.”
“You know how it is, Derricott; sometimes the leads pan out in the oddest ways. Ditol, get a tray of drinks over to that table as soon as possible.”
“See here; I’m speaking with you.”
Before the Doctor could reply, Rose stepped forward. “Agent Derricott, I can assure you that we had no idea the trail would lead back here. The case we were assigned to investigate seemed completely separate.”
“And what is this case?” he demanded. “You were sketchy on the details and now I find you here, attempting to send drinks over to the girl I’m responsible for. I don’t know what London could possibly be thinking. Bad enough they send out a team which features a purely decorative member, but to then meddle in my personal business without giving me so much the courtesy of a heads up? I’ve had enough of this and I insist you put a stop to it.”
The Doctor’s first instinct was to open his mouth and tell Derricott what an idiot he was. The moment he saw Rose’s face, he closed his mouth, not wanting to be caught by the Oncoming Storm. Besides, why miss the fun?
“Mr. Derricott,” Rose began, her voice icy, “did you ever stop to think there’s a reason you’ve been exiled to Rome? Maybe it wasn’t that you were being unjustly persecuted by people who were jealous of you and your abilities. Maybe it was the fact that you have never behaved anything less than a complete horse’s arse when dealing with folks you consider beneath you.”
“Now see here, young lady...”
Rose stepped into his personal space, glaring up at him with a look that was frighteningly reminiscent of Jackie Tyler at her fiercest. “That’s Field Agent Tyler to you, and you’d damn well remember it. I’ve been kidnapped, shot at, blown up, and face to face with more ugly creatures than you care to imagine. What have you done? Made hotel arrangements? Yeah, nice having a place to kip if one needs it, but don’t you ever think that just because I’m a woman I’m not capable of -- look out!”
With that, she shoved Derricott to the ground with perhaps a bit more force than necessary as a shot rang out, shattering the mirror over the bar. Safir had appeared, gun in hand and a wild look in his eye. “You’re pulling everyone out,” he said, aiming the weapon in Keenon’s general direction. “You’re going to tell them it was my student who was responsible and you’ll keep on getting assignments and writing your books and where will I be?”
The only good thing about the patrons still being under the influence of the kitcheran was that they didn’t panic, simply stared at this new intrusion. “Safir,” the Doctor said, “it doesn’t have to be this way.”
“And what way does it have to be? You don’t know him; you don’t know that he’s just going to keep on going while the rest of us are ground into dust.”
“We don’t have to leave,” Keenon said. “The Doctor thinks he can fix things so we don’t have to go back to Klinairisch just yet. We can still salvage the expedition.”
Derricott began to struggle up from his prone position on the floor. “Good god, you’re aliens!”
Rose shoved him back down with a well-placed foot between his shoulder blades. “Why don’t you put the gun down before anyone gets hurt?” she suggested.
“But we’re already hurt. I know Keenon; he’ll make sure Ditol pays for this and he’ll make certain everyone knows I’m the one who selected him. I can’t afford that.”
“And shooting him is going to help that?” the Doctor said. “You’ll probably hit someone else before you hit him.”
The gun swung dangerously, moving from Keenon over toward the Doctor. “But at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing he won’t just walk away from this.”
That was when Rose lunged, barrelling into Safir and grabbing his arm to shove it up toward the ceiling as he fired in reflex. Bits of plaster and lathe rained down and that did cause angry murmurs from the crowd, along with a few indignant cries of “I say.”
Even as folks began to crane their necks for a look, Rose wrestled him to the ground. “I need something to tie his hands with,” she called out. “Anything! Except a bar towel. Someone get me a tie.”
Surprisingly, it was Sebastian who moved first, pulling his tie from around his neck and handing it off to Rose who deftly knotted it about Safir’s wrists. “You can’t stay, Keenon,” she said as she hauled Safir to his feet. “Torchwood knows you’re here and we won’t be able to hold him off for long.”
“You can’t just let them go,” Derricott argued, finally struggling to his feet. “I won’t let you.”
“How are you going to stop us?” Rose asked. “Keenon, get your boys and get the hell out of here.”
For just a moment, it looked as if Keenon wanted to argue, but then he looked at Derricott and turned to Ditol. “Get Anwyrn. We’re leaving.”
Ditol didn’t need to be told a second time, heading out from behind the bar and onto the floor. A moment’s pause and he returned to grab the tray of drinks he’d already prepared and took them over to one of the larger tables before continuing his search for his compatriot.
“I won’t allow this,” Derricott insisted again. “Letting these aliens go is against everything Torchwood stands for. His eyes narrowed. “You’re not really with Torchwood.”
“And you had your life saved by a girl,” the Doctor pointed out. “A girl who managed to fool you into thinking she was with Torchwood. Wouldn’t your superiors love to hear that?”
Ditol and Anwyrn appeared and Keenon directed them to take hold of Safir. “If you’re ever on Klinairisch...” he said.
“Don’t worry,” the Doctor assured him. “We won’t embarrass you by looking you up. However you choose to position it, you’ll get no argument from us. Just be kind to Ditol if you can.”
Keenon didn’t look like he wanted to take that advice, but he hustled Ditol and Anwyrn out, Safir struggling between them. “Sebastian,” the Doctor said. “Want to be a hero? Especially to any young ladies you’re interested in? Make certain they drink as much tonic water as possible until they start acting like their old, wild selves again.”
He grabbed Roses hand and started to pull her toward the door, but found their way blocked by the manager who’d been conspicuously absent during the excitement. “By the saints, what has been going on here?”
“Oh, just a little dust-up. I think you need a new waiter and bartender.”
The manager looked over his shoulder. “My mirror! Who is going to pay for that? I swear if Danilo and Alessandro were responsible for this, I will take it out of their wages.”
“Excellent idea. I think Mr. Derricott can explain what happened. Oh, and trust me, it’d be a most interesting review.”
With that, he and Rose headed for the exit as quickly as possible, this time reaching the street without delays. “You enjoyed shoving Derricott to the floor, didn’t you?” he asked Rose as they headed back to the TARDIS.
“Yes, I did,” Rose admitted. “Very therapuetic.”
“Not worried he’ll remember?”
She snorted. “He’ll have convinced himself it was something completely different by tomorrow. Doesn’t really change over the years; still thinks Torchwood shouldn’t have female agents and I only got my spot because I’m the boss’ daughter.” She glanced behind them. “He’ll be coming after us in a minute.”
“And if he can figure out which direction we actually went, we can still out run him.”
Derricott didn’t appear and they made the TARDIS without incident. “Still don’t like those readings,” he said, tapping the monitor on the console. “But we’re not going to let that stop us. So where would you like to go this time?”
“Someplace where we don’t end up in trouble?” she said with a laugh. “Am I flying or are you?”
“You plug in the coordinates, I’ll fly this time.”
He stood aside to let her at the console, watching as she considered a moment before making the appropriate adjustments. When she was done, he stepped into his own position, trusting her judgement about their destination implicitly. After all, why would he do anything else?
Author: spikewriter
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: The Doctor and Rose find themselves on a bit of a Roman holiday, but quickly discover that not everything is la dolce vita among the nightclub set
Author's notes: My thanks to my husband for the beta work (even if he rolled his eyes a few times) and to shinyopals and the Julies for Brit-picking and putting up with my hectic schedule
Episode 15 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following Terror in the Deep.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Virtual Series Masterlist
“Well, that’s a bit melodramatic,” was the Doctor’s first comment.
“Make all the jokes you want. I’m not letting you take Ditol, any of you. I’m the one who picked him for this expedition; I’m the one who’s responsible for him.”
As he spoke, Safir eased himself toward the door, gun still trained on the others. “Put the gun down,” the Doctor said. “We can talk about this.”
“Don’t be daft, man,” Keenon insisted, taking a step forward. “This isn’t -”
Without warning Safir fired and Keenon went down with a scream. In the instant that followed, Safir was out the door even as the Doctor and Rose rushed to make certain Keenon was alright. “I don’t see any blood,” Rose said as she knelt by him.
Keenon moaned. “Oh, Safir, what have you done?”
“I don’t see any blood, either.” The Doctor pulled out the sonic screwdriver, running it over the alien. “I’m not sure he actually hit him.”
“He didn’t.” Keenon struggled to sit upright. “He would have been more merciful if he had. I’m ruined, ruined, I tell you. I’ll be the laughing stock of all academia.”
“So nice to see your concern for your fellows,” the Doctor commented dryly. “Where would he have gone?”
“I don’t know. To find Ditol and Anwyrn, perhaps? But they’re out for the day and don’t start work until nine. We’re going to have to pack our bags and go home in shame.”
“No, we’re going to find your friend first,” the Doctor said. “Come on. Get up.”
“Where do you think we’re going find him?” Rose asked.
“Where everyone else in this seems to ends up - Club Moreli.”
# # #
“How many of those outfits did you pack?” the Doctor asked Rose as they headed for the club a few hours later, after a rather fruitless search of the area. Safir clearly didn’t want to be found, which meant their best hope was that he would indeed go to find Ditol.
“Mum took me shopping; I think it was a reaction to me getting hurt. Didn’t want her to think I didn’t appreciate them, so I brought them with me. Besides, your suit will work almost anywhere, but no matter how much the manager wants a good review, he wouldn’t let me inside if I was wearing jeans. Just be glad Mum can’t see us; she’d kill me if she knew I was wearing this to track down a gun-toting alien.”
“Who can’t shoot. That bullet impacted the wall at least four feet to the left.”
“And if it’d been four feet to the right, it might have hit you,” Rose pointed out. “Someone who doesn’t know how to shoot is often more dangerous with a weapon than someone who can; you have no idea where the bullet will land.”
He didn’t like the reminder that she knew far too much about guns and where bullets landed, but he also knew she was right. “If he tries to shoot Ditol in a crowded club...”
“Then we have to get the weapon away from him as quickly as possible.” She was falling into operation mode; he could hear it in her voice. “If we can do that, then this shouldn’t be too dangerous.”
There wasn’t anything he could add to that as they reached the club entrance. As promised, Keenon was waiting for them. “I’ve gotten everyone together,” he said. “As soon as we’re done here, the entire expedition will be leaving.” He paused. “You really aren’t going to turn us over to this Torchwood?”
“Trust me, I wouldn’t do that to my own worst enemy,” the Doctor assured him. “Well, maybe the Daleks, but I think they could handle him. Any sign of Safir?”
“No, but Anwyrn and Ditol are both inside. I haven’t let them know what’s going on yet.”
“Good man.” The Doctor turned to Rose. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Ready.”
The three of them entered the club, sailing past the host and straight for the bar. “Danilo,” Keenon called out, using what was obviously the student’s cover. “Two of your special cocktails for my friends.”
The young man smiled and set about making the concoction. As he worked, the Doctor took the opportunity to glance about the club. Not surprisingly, Derricott was there, as was Sebastian, who waved and started in their direction. “Get everything done?” the young man asked as he approached. “What you had to go running off for?”
“Mostly,” the Doctor said. “Terribly sorry about that, but you know how things are.”
“Of course. You two don’t seem the idle type, so no surprise you have things happening. Oh, please tell me you aren’t going to succumb,” he said as Ditol put two cocktails on the bar before them.”
“No, I’m going to analyze it.” Without further ado, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and began taking readings. “Vermouth, whisky - somewhat watered, I might add - simple syrup, bitters, and, oh, what’s this?”
“Probably some secret ingredient,” Sebastian said. “All the bartenders seem to have them to make their cocktails unique.”
“Yes, but most of them don’t have ingredients that aren’t usually found on Earth. Oh, Danilo!”
Something in his voice must have given Ditol a pause because he hesitated, only coming forward when Keenon gestured to him. “Yes, signore?”
“Your secret ingredient. What exactly is it?”
“Oh, signore, I could not tell you. Then everyone would attempt to -”
“Ditol, he knows you’re not Italian,” Keenon said. “Just tell him.”
Ditol gulped. “Kitcheran. I put a few drops in my drinks all the time back home. My friends love it. When I heard we were supposed to get jobs here, I brought a few bottles along and figured I’d try bartending professionally. Anwyrn and I thought it the best way to meet girls.”
Never underestimate the male ability to act stupid where women are concerned, no matter the species. Even so, the fact this had not been done with malice didn’t negate the seriousness of the situation. “And did you ever stop to think what effect that little extra element might have on human physiology?”
Another gulp. “No, sir.”
“Oh, Ditol,” Keenon said. “What have you done?”
“Does this mean I’m going to lose my grants?”
“Depends on whether or not the Doctor can fix it.”
Given the grim note in Keenon’s voice, the Doctor couldn’t help thinking Ditol was not only going to lose his grants, but would never manage to complete his advanced degree if Keenon had anything to do with it. Wasn’t much the Doctor could do about that, though; right now his concern had to be the patrons of the Club Moreli - and finding where Safir had gone with his gun. “The problem with kitcheran, if I’m remembering correctly --” and it works the same way in this galaxy as it did in the other “is that it has a cumulative effect on humans. The more their tolerance increases, the more they crave it. Now, the stuff will run out of their system within forty-eight hours or so if they don’t have any more, but it can produce some odd side effects until its cleared. All the emotional governors are off, which is why we had someone screaming in terror last night because he’s clearly worried about something and Evelyn snogging her Italian bloke.”
He glanced at Sebastian. “You’re potty about the girl, I bet. I’m afraid getting the kitcheran out of her system won’t solve her fascination with the oily one, but it might prevent her from acting on it.”
“Wait a minute.” Sebastian looked completely confused. “Are you saying that they’ve been dosed with something alien? As in little green men from Mars, alien?”
“Martians aren’t green, but, yes. Don’t worry; humans have a very simple solution that will help with the detox. You’re right about them watering the whisky, but we’re going to go one step further. Ditol, every single drink that goes out must have tonic water in it.”
“Tonic water?” Ditol asked.
“Quinine, my dear boy. Helps prevent malaria and will minimize the side effects of the kitcheran while it’s working its way out of their system. The more quinine they drink, the better it’ll be.” He turned to Sebastian. “You might not like them, but you’ve had a few of these cocktails, haven’t you?”
“Just to be companionable,” Sebastian admitted. “But I didn’t act like everyone else.”
“No, because you keep drinking your gin and tonic. Prevented the effects from taking hold. Keenon, maybe you don’t have to leave the planet; maybe you just need to relocate or find another test group.”
This was working; the Doctor could feel the threads coming together. Maybe it was a small thing, but it could well be one of those days when everybody lived. Now, if they could just find Safir...
“What are you doing here?”
Then there was the matter of Derricott to deal with. He’d stormed up to the bar, looking severely annoyed at their presence. “I thought you said your assignment didn’t have anything to do with Evelyn or her friends.”
“You know how it is, Derricott; sometimes the leads pan out in the oddest ways. Ditol, get a tray of drinks over to that table as soon as possible.”
“See here; I’m speaking with you.”
Before the Doctor could reply, Rose stepped forward. “Agent Derricott, I can assure you that we had no idea the trail would lead back here. The case we were assigned to investigate seemed completely separate.”
“And what is this case?” he demanded. “You were sketchy on the details and now I find you here, attempting to send drinks over to the girl I’m responsible for. I don’t know what London could possibly be thinking. Bad enough they send out a team which features a purely decorative member, but to then meddle in my personal business without giving me so much the courtesy of a heads up? I’ve had enough of this and I insist you put a stop to it.”
The Doctor’s first instinct was to open his mouth and tell Derricott what an idiot he was. The moment he saw Rose’s face, he closed his mouth, not wanting to be caught by the Oncoming Storm. Besides, why miss the fun?
“Mr. Derricott,” Rose began, her voice icy, “did you ever stop to think there’s a reason you’ve been exiled to Rome? Maybe it wasn’t that you were being unjustly persecuted by people who were jealous of you and your abilities. Maybe it was the fact that you have never behaved anything less than a complete horse’s arse when dealing with folks you consider beneath you.”
“Now see here, young lady...”
Rose stepped into his personal space, glaring up at him with a look that was frighteningly reminiscent of Jackie Tyler at her fiercest. “That’s Field Agent Tyler to you, and you’d damn well remember it. I’ve been kidnapped, shot at, blown up, and face to face with more ugly creatures than you care to imagine. What have you done? Made hotel arrangements? Yeah, nice having a place to kip if one needs it, but don’t you ever think that just because I’m a woman I’m not capable of -- look out!”
With that, she shoved Derricott to the ground with perhaps a bit more force than necessary as a shot rang out, shattering the mirror over the bar. Safir had appeared, gun in hand and a wild look in his eye. “You’re pulling everyone out,” he said, aiming the weapon in Keenon’s general direction. “You’re going to tell them it was my student who was responsible and you’ll keep on getting assignments and writing your books and where will I be?”
The only good thing about the patrons still being under the influence of the kitcheran was that they didn’t panic, simply stared at this new intrusion. “Safir,” the Doctor said, “it doesn’t have to be this way.”
“And what way does it have to be? You don’t know him; you don’t know that he’s just going to keep on going while the rest of us are ground into dust.”
“We don’t have to leave,” Keenon said. “The Doctor thinks he can fix things so we don’t have to go back to Klinairisch just yet. We can still salvage the expedition.”
Derricott began to struggle up from his prone position on the floor. “Good god, you’re aliens!”
Rose shoved him back down with a well-placed foot between his shoulder blades. “Why don’t you put the gun down before anyone gets hurt?” she suggested.
“But we’re already hurt. I know Keenon; he’ll make sure Ditol pays for this and he’ll make certain everyone knows I’m the one who selected him. I can’t afford that.”
“And shooting him is going to help that?” the Doctor said. “You’ll probably hit someone else before you hit him.”
The gun swung dangerously, moving from Keenon over toward the Doctor. “But at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing he won’t just walk away from this.”
That was when Rose lunged, barrelling into Safir and grabbing his arm to shove it up toward the ceiling as he fired in reflex. Bits of plaster and lathe rained down and that did cause angry murmurs from the crowd, along with a few indignant cries of “I say.”
Even as folks began to crane their necks for a look, Rose wrestled him to the ground. “I need something to tie his hands with,” she called out. “Anything! Except a bar towel. Someone get me a tie.”
Surprisingly, it was Sebastian who moved first, pulling his tie from around his neck and handing it off to Rose who deftly knotted it about Safir’s wrists. “You can’t stay, Keenon,” she said as she hauled Safir to his feet. “Torchwood knows you’re here and we won’t be able to hold him off for long.”
“You can’t just let them go,” Derricott argued, finally struggling to his feet. “I won’t let you.”
“How are you going to stop us?” Rose asked. “Keenon, get your boys and get the hell out of here.”
For just a moment, it looked as if Keenon wanted to argue, but then he looked at Derricott and turned to Ditol. “Get Anwyrn. We’re leaving.”
Ditol didn’t need to be told a second time, heading out from behind the bar and onto the floor. A moment’s pause and he returned to grab the tray of drinks he’d already prepared and took them over to one of the larger tables before continuing his search for his compatriot.
“I won’t allow this,” Derricott insisted again. “Letting these aliens go is against everything Torchwood stands for. His eyes narrowed. “You’re not really with Torchwood.”
“And you had your life saved by a girl,” the Doctor pointed out. “A girl who managed to fool you into thinking she was with Torchwood. Wouldn’t your superiors love to hear that?”
Ditol and Anwyrn appeared and Keenon directed them to take hold of Safir. “If you’re ever on Klinairisch...” he said.
“Don’t worry,” the Doctor assured him. “We won’t embarrass you by looking you up. However you choose to position it, you’ll get no argument from us. Just be kind to Ditol if you can.”
Keenon didn’t look like he wanted to take that advice, but he hustled Ditol and Anwyrn out, Safir struggling between them. “Sebastian,” the Doctor said. “Want to be a hero? Especially to any young ladies you’re interested in? Make certain they drink as much tonic water as possible until they start acting like their old, wild selves again.”
He grabbed Roses hand and started to pull her toward the door, but found their way blocked by the manager who’d been conspicuously absent during the excitement. “By the saints, what has been going on here?”
“Oh, just a little dust-up. I think you need a new waiter and bartender.”
The manager looked over his shoulder. “My mirror! Who is going to pay for that? I swear if Danilo and Alessandro were responsible for this, I will take it out of their wages.”
“Excellent idea. I think Mr. Derricott can explain what happened. Oh, and trust me, it’d be a most interesting review.”
With that, he and Rose headed for the exit as quickly as possible, this time reaching the street without delays. “You enjoyed shoving Derricott to the floor, didn’t you?” he asked Rose as they headed back to the TARDIS.
“Yes, I did,” Rose admitted. “Very therapuetic.”
“Not worried he’ll remember?”
She snorted. “He’ll have convinced himself it was something completely different by tomorrow. Doesn’t really change over the years; still thinks Torchwood shouldn’t have female agents and I only got my spot because I’m the boss’ daughter.” She glanced behind them. “He’ll be coming after us in a minute.”
“And if he can figure out which direction we actually went, we can still out run him.”
Derricott didn’t appear and they made the TARDIS without incident. “Still don’t like those readings,” he said, tapping the monitor on the console. “But we’re not going to let that stop us. So where would you like to go this time?”
“Someplace where we don’t end up in trouble?” she said with a laugh. “Am I flying or are you?”
“You plug in the coordinates, I’ll fly this time.”
He stood aside to let her at the console, watching as she considered a moment before making the appropriate adjustments. When she was done, he stepped into his own position, trusting her judgement about their destination implicitly. After all, why would he do anything else?