NEW: A Different Threefold Man (7/11?)
Title: A Different Three-Fold Man
Rating: T
Author:
tkel_paris
Summary: Not even Caan could see every possibility. The Hand was far more aware than anyone gave it credit for, and it transformed itself into something different. Now Donna Noble and the Doctor have their work cut out for them.
Dedication:
tardis_mole. This was provoked by “Another Fine Mess.” You'll have to read it all the way through to have any clue why. And yes, I beta read that story, so in a tiny way I'm tooting my own horn in addition to TM's. ;D And thank you, my friend, for the chapter titles! :D
Disclaimer: Rose Tyler wouldn't have been anywhere near Series 4, and therefore this probably couldn't have happened, had I anything to do with owning these characters. I've lost all respect for the character, I freely admit it. Which means I've lost some respect for her creator. Shame, since he also created characters that I adore.
Author's Note: A new entry for the Alternate Handy Fanfiction Challenge. Nope, we haven't mined this one to death. Not at all! :D And there are still other possibilities! :D
Spit-take warning. Do not have food or bevs near your electronic device. Not joking.
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6
Chapter Note: One of my NaNo friends commented once that the theater was made for nakedness. This chapter is dedicated to her, even though she's not a Doctor/Donna shipper. (If she ever reads this, she knows who she is. :D) She unknowingly inspired me to refer to a certain picture that's out there on the Internet. If you're too bashful to do a creative Google search, see if you have connections to the British contingent of a particular (O)Estrogen Brigade. It's thanks to one very helpful friend that I know about this. ;D
Chapter Six: Opening Night
The twins watched as their mother and gran had a very quiet talk in the middle of putting together some soup and sandwiches. It danced around their real issues, but it was a start. Their great-grandy brought them whatever they needed, not complaining when ordered to also bring out some of the macrobiotic items. The sight of those made them flinch a moment. It was a reminder of how little time he might have left. Stomach cancer wasn't an easy thing to live with, especially if it seemed to be coming back. It could leave someone dead within months, if not weeks. Maybe their father could do something, take him somewhere to get that treated.
Shaking their heads, they looked around. With everything calm, they had the leisure to figure things out. They noticed their father leaning against the doorway, watching their mother with a soft smile growing.
She beamed. Dad's a sap for Mum now.
Yep, her brother agreed. Guess he likes everything about her appearance. His eyes narrowed as he smirked. Right down to her teeth.
She blinked. What about them?
His smirk grew. Oo nothing, just that you've got mum's teeth.
She glared and leaned forward. Don't knock it, bro! You've got dad's freckles. Every last one!
He narrowed his eyes. Yeah, well you got all of Mum's.
Oi, are we comparing traits? Well, look at all the gravity-defying fuzz on you that only Dad would call hair!
It reminded him of the one sticking point that would bother him for a long time. Yeah and yours is all Mum! Now I'm looking at someone who's truly rude and ginger!
Her eyes flashed. Oi!
Oi!
Oi!
His hands slapped the table, unaware that they'd attracted their family's attention. Don't you oi me!
She stood, fixing her harshest glare on him. You started it!
He sprung to his feet. And I'll finish it!
The two grabbed each other, with muffled grunts as they were suddenly wrestling on the floor. Neither intended to hurt the other, but there was a sibling dispute to be settled!
The Doctor was shocked stiff.
“You two, what are you up to?!”
They quickly stopped and got up at the sound of their grandmother's voice. Their mother's memories came in handy there - neither was keen on getting a Sylvia nagging so soon. “Nothing, Gran,” they chimed.
Donna groaned. She couldn't explain the things she was sensing, and she wasn't in a mood to look carefully at it. She might check later with her husband. Right now she had give a reprimand. “I know you're going to have arguments. All siblings do. But did you have to start something over who got ginger hair and who didn't?!”
They squirmed, sitting back down.
The Doctor groaned. He remembered only having two tussles in his entire childhood. Young Time Lords weren't supposed to tussle. They learned after an electrical shock, much like some humans in this age did to train their dogs. “I don't think I want to know what you think you just did.”
Duplicate Donna managed a tiny grin. “I fought my brother, and won, didn't I?”
Duplicate Doctor glared at her. “No, you didn't!”
“Yes I did!”
“No, I totally won-”
“Shut up, the pair of you!”
All eyes fixed on the Doctor. The irritation in his minor yell was manifesting itself in how he rubbed his neck. Now he felt like he had a tension headache growing.
The twins grimaced. “Sorry, Dad,” they chimed.
Donna exhaled sharply. “Honestly, those two are going to be the death of us! This house isn't ready for two teenagers!”
The Duplicates exchanged a quick look, and smirked. “Is that,” he asked, “the house or its occupants?”
He had the unpleasant surprise of feeling his head lightly cuffed. His eyes popped wide as he realized the source. “Dad!”
The Doctor silenced the coming whine with a glare. “Don't start. You two are adolescents, which means there's a lot you can't yet do, being only fourteen Earth years old.”
“But, Dad!” He knew he was whining as well as his father could, but he had to make his case. “If you count our birth actually being from the day we were cut from your loins, or your arm in our case, then we're technically seventeen, which means by law we can learn-”
“Your future,” Donna snapped, “hangs on you not finishing that sentence, Spaceboy!” She switched her glare onto her daughter. “And don't you go get all smug, Spacegirl! If you're got both of our minds in yours, then you're just as capable of putting your foot in your mouth as he is!”
The smirk faded immediately. She glanced at her brother, who was equally chagrined.
Wilf shook his head as he brought over a full plate for each twin. “There, nice big sandwich for each of ya, and some fruit. Ya must like bananas - your mum put one on each plate.”
Donna groaned as her family's eyes lit up. “Their dad loves bananas. They're so like him I can't imagine they don't, too.”
The twins' mouths instantly watered like a dog's as Wilf put the plates down. Hunger would've made them eat no matter what was put in front of them, but this smelled good. Their human side talking, mostly. “Thanks, Mum! Thanks, Gran! Thanks, Great-Grandy!” And they dug in.
With the first bite, their taste-buds were alive with sensations. Everything was brand-new to them, despite their inherited memories. It was the oddest thing - they had the ingrained table manners of their mother, with the eagerness of their father. Tastes, smells, sounds, textures flooded their awareness. It was almost overwhelming, but hunger drove them forward. Still, the newness coaxed them into savouring each bite, and quickly peeling and trying out their bananas. They couldn't help but make a slew of delighted noises.
It was a rather comical sight. Even Sylvia cracked a smile.
Donna brought over a plate for the Doctor and sighed. “Well, now for all the mundane things about life on Earth. Got to stop at Primark for clothes for the both of you, unless Sarah Jane knows how to get some things with fewer questions. Gonna have to play the 'my possessions were destroyed' card with anyone who asks why you're in clothes and shoes too large for you two.”
The Doctor gladly accepted the plate, delighted to see that he got the biggest banana, but froze as her words sank in. You're not going to demand I go with, are you?
She flashed a mock-sweet smile. What, you think you don't owe me for scaring me with that exile bullocks?
He flinched. Okay, he would be paying for that for a while. So he sighed, already resigned to being bag carrier.
Aw, she soothed, it'll just be for some basics. We can't buy a lot - don't have the money. Most has to go toward the mortgage and such.
He met her eyes. There's still a mortgage on this house?!
“Ere,” Wilf said, interrupting the silent exchange, “what do we call you two? You need names. How do Time Lords get their names?”
Donna cleared her throat, taking charge. “Well, there's the public name and then the private name, known only the spouse.”
“Actually,” the Doctor commented, “only the males had a secret name. Part of the old magic that made the marriage bond work.”
Duplicate Donna finished swallowing her latest bite as her father talked. “No, Dad, we each seem to have one.”
That got their father's complete attention. “How?!”
Duplicate Doctor shrugged, pausing his eating. “Who knows? We both came predominantly from you, so that would explain her having one. Maybe the regeneration energy interacted with the TARDIS and allowed her to tell us.”
As the twins dug back in to the second half of their respective sandwiches, their father contemplated the thought a moment. He gave up rather early for him, shrugging. “Good an answer as any. But,” he added, putting his plate down as he sat between them to ensure the peace was maintained, “I do have your public names.”
The twins nearly choked on their bites. They held all the memories of their father's efforts at naming things. Some were so ridiculous that they felt a bit nervous over what he might have in mind.
“Aye aye,” Donna moaned. “Here we go.” She had visions of something truly outrageous.
“No, no, no, Donna, these names suit them!”
The puppy-eyes, combined with a mental plea to trust him, made Donna melt in spite of herself. “What'd ya think of, Spaceman?”
The Doctor clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. “Here we have Benjamin Primus Noble.”
The boy's eyes widened. “Primus?!”
“Effectively first born, since the hand was once me, and you grew from it. Which makes Benjamin perfect.”
Donna blinked. “'The son of the right hand.' You're naming him the son of your right hand?”
“Isn't that the meaning of the name?”
She noted her son's pained look, which she knew was over the middle name. Still, it wasn't the worst name she'd ever heard for an English boy. “What about for her?”
The Doctor beamed at his wary daughter. “Bella Asteria Noble.”
His son glared at him. “Playing favourites, Dad?”
“Oi,” the Doctor retorted. “It's fitting. You know your mum's special, and you're each part her so therefore you're both special. You also know from your mum's memories that fathers and daughters have their own bond. She's my beautiful little star, so I think that should be her name.”
Donna suppressed a grin. Flattering, but he had overlooked something. As usual. “Sunshine, her initials would be BAN. Doubt a teenager wants that.”
He blinked. His daughter raised an eyebrow - rather like he did - and he immediately answered, “Well, then we flip the order: Asteria Bella.”
His daughter closed her eyes. She could see some teasing if she ever admitted to why she had her name. Just the way people this physical age were. Still, it was clear their dad loved them. Sighing, she shook her head. “I'll take ABN as my initials, but I'll go by Bella, thank you kindly.” And she bit into her banana.
The Doctor grinned, thrilled that she'd agreed. And dug into his own sandwich.
His son groaned silently, seeing that he'd lost the battle on his middle name. Although how many kids got any say in their name? “Fine, but I'm going by Ben.”
“Oi,” his mother warned, “watch the snippy tone.” Although she was painfully aware that she probably sounded a lot like her mother then, she did need to train the kids to behave.
Sylvia finished preparing the rest of dinner. “Where are we going to put them? It'd be best if they each had their own room, but we only have one spare bedroom and that's full.” She didn't want to add that it was full with Geoffrey's things, as well as her mother's. She couldn't bear the thought of parting with them, and she would bet her father felt the same.
The twins blinked, and shared a silent exchange. “Gran, that's not necessary,” Bella insisted. “We can stand sharing a room for now. We know the law will force us to change that eventually, but we can live with sharing until we figure something out.”
Ben nodded as a tired Wilf sat in the other chair as the table. “After all, we each know what the other has. What's the problem?”
Donna was in the middle of drawing two chairs from the larger formal table to the crowded kitchen one, and froze in place. “Are you serious? You sure you can avoid killing each other?!”
Wilf was thoughtful. “Now, that fight was a tussle. Happens once in a while. And they're adjusting to being people. They might be the only brother and sister who can share a room at their age, though.”
“Really,” Bella added, “it's hardly the worst thing in the world! I mean, think about the theatre!”
Ben nodded, grimacing. “Yeah! After all, you might be seeing a total stranger starkers!”
The Doctor burst out laughing. The delivery was so matter-of-fact that he couldn't have done better. He heard Wilf snickering, too, and shared an amused look.
As for Sylvia and Donna? Not so amused. “That's not funny!” snapped Sylvia.
“Oh, it is!” the Doctor choked on his laughter, tears forming.
Donna had enough so she handed her dinner back to her mother, raising a significant fingre. She walked over to her still laughing husband and leaned in. “So...tell, me Sunshine: how would you like it if pictures of you started circulating, wearing a stupid little hat...and not one other stitch on?”
He promptly choked so hard on air that his respiratory bypass kicked in, flushing a shade that tried to match his wife's hair. It cracked the twins up.
Sylvia tried to not imagine it as her daughter flashed a grim smile at having made her point.
The Mott-Noble household was silent. At least it wasn't the deathly kind of earlier that evening, thought the two teenagers lying resting in the living room. Full from a big, home-cooked meal, they needed rest.
So a sleeping bag on the chair facing the stairs for Ben and blankets on the couch for Bella had to do. Until the family either managed an expansion - which was highly unlikely unless their dad dipped into the things he acquired over the millennia - or cleared that room. Whichever came first.
Mind, given the questions he was asking over dinner - once he'd recovered from the horror of their mother's imagined photographic evidence and the worse horror of imagining Rose Tyler getting hold of anything like that - about the family finances, he was thinking about doing just that. Not to mention the thoughts they caught wind of.
The questions, along with a few about teenagers in the Mott-Noble bloodlines, continued until their mother proclaimed it was time to set up bedding for the twins. They'd grumbled, but their bodies were winding down for the night, the regeneration energy on a quiet moment.
Although the sight of their gran's face as she realized that there was a man who actually had the right to share her daughter's bed? Priceless.
Bella sighed. She found that she wasn't really tired, but needed rest nonetheless. How long do you think the effects of regeneration energy will last in us?
Ben rolled on his side. He figured he should at least look at his sister while talking with her. Politeness and all, even in the dark. Not like they couldn't see. Well, Dad didn't feel rejuvenated until...24 hours after he recovered from the sickness?
But we're part human. She turned her head, not feeling like rolling over. That should cut it down, shouldn't it?
In theory. But we're not exactly normal.
A smirk. What's normal where Dad's concerned? Or Mum?
A grin. Point taken.
An intense flash within their minds made them both flinch. Oh, my God! Bella rubbed her eyes, even though it wouldn't get rid of the mental sight. Dad, put some shields up!
Ben cringed and shuddered. Yeah, we're trying to lock some memories away! Can't do it when you're openly and loudly broadcasting what you're doing with Mum!
The link went silent. For a moment.
Oh, Ben said to his sister, that flash of irritation wasn't from Dad.
Yeah, it's been a while for Mum for anything. Must be impatient for her wedding night. Bella wished she'd already locked that knowledge away, but things weren't working on anything like a schedule. Sadly.
Then they each felt things they had trouble making out. Their parents had put shields up, but some things were leaking through. Then they faintly heard something from upstairs. Was that a door, Ben asked, at this hour?!
Bella listened keenly. Something about being a Duplicate of their mother made her more aware of the nuances of the house. Must be, because I swear I hear footsteps. Two pairs.
Sure enough, they heard soft footfalls on the stairs. They waited until Bella could see their parents - in their jim-jams heading for the door. Is that, Ben demanded, Seven's umbrella?!
Bella lifted her body to push herself into sight. You two are going out in this downpour?!
Their mother glared at them. I'd rather no one could overhear, thank you very much!
Think we want to know what you're up to?! The twins shot their mother's glare back at her.
That's enough! The Doctor meddled with the umbrella, ready to open it to keep his wife dry. Only it seemed to be stuck. Sighing, he fixed his children with a pointed look. You two are staying right here. If we're not back inside by breakfast, you can knock on the TARDIS. Come morning, we'll talk about what school you'll be attending next month. He smirked and quickly ushered Donna outside, giving up on staying dry.
The twins stared after them, trying to follow their father's odd logic. Then it hit them, shooting them bolt upright. School?! Bella cried.
Life as teenagers?! Ben paled.
Dealing with all the idiot students and teachers?!
No travel in the TARDIS?!
They both moved to jump up after their parents, but the TARDIS boomed in their minds: Stay!
Cringing, they looked in her direction. Why?
They felt the Old Girl give an awkward laugh. You'll get more than you bargained for.
Looking at each other, it dawned on them that there was a tradition of...christening...a room. They each turned as red as Bella's hair and sank back under the covers, pulling their own shields up as tightly as possible.
Meanwhile, the TARDIS sighed. She'd give her Thief what-for over leaving wet jim-jams strewn all over her Control Room later. The poor Time Lord was, after all, giving into the powerful urges woken by the earlier kiss after bonding to Donna. Repressing those so-called lesser impulses had been one of the worst consequences of the Curse forcing the Looms into being. The Doctor might have avoided some ugly situations if he'd known a little more about emotions.
Still, she mentally sighed, it led him to Donna Noble. She would birth a new race of Time Lords, ensuring that the Doctor was never alone again.
So she'd keep the thoughts of her Thief and his Wife private. They certainly needed the help; their control was already non-existent, and they were far too distracted by mutual exploration.
And she kept them from sensing what she could. Like the vague impression that there was another Time Lord out there. That could be explored later.
After the Doctor had cleaned the Jump Seat. Bipedal beings had no idea the messes they left behind.
Chapter 8: The Menace Tells All
Rating: T
Author:
tkel_paris
Summary: Not even Caan could see every possibility. The Hand was far more aware than anyone gave it credit for, and it transformed itself into something different. Now Donna Noble and the Doctor have their work cut out for them.
Dedication:
tardis_mole. This was provoked by “Another Fine Mess.” You'll have to read it all the way through to have any clue why. And yes, I beta read that story, so in a tiny way I'm tooting my own horn in addition to TM's. ;D And thank you, my friend, for the chapter titles! :D
Disclaimer: Rose Tyler wouldn't have been anywhere near Series 4, and therefore this probably couldn't have happened, had I anything to do with owning these characters. I've lost all respect for the character, I freely admit it. Which means I've lost some respect for her creator. Shame, since he also created characters that I adore.
Author's Note: A new entry for the Alternate Handy Fanfiction Challenge. Nope, we haven't mined this one to death. Not at all! :D And there are still other possibilities! :D
Spit-take warning. Do not have food or bevs near your electronic device. Not joking.
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6
Chapter Note: One of my NaNo friends commented once that the theater was made for nakedness. This chapter is dedicated to her, even though she's not a Doctor/Donna shipper. (If she ever reads this, she knows who she is. :D) She unknowingly inspired me to refer to a certain picture that's out there on the Internet. If you're too bashful to do a creative Google search, see if you have connections to the British contingent of a particular (O)Estrogen Brigade. It's thanks to one very helpful friend that I know about this. ;D
Chapter Six: Opening Night
The twins watched as their mother and gran had a very quiet talk in the middle of putting together some soup and sandwiches. It danced around their real issues, but it was a start. Their great-grandy brought them whatever they needed, not complaining when ordered to also bring out some of the macrobiotic items. The sight of those made them flinch a moment. It was a reminder of how little time he might have left. Stomach cancer wasn't an easy thing to live with, especially if it seemed to be coming back. It could leave someone dead within months, if not weeks. Maybe their father could do something, take him somewhere to get that treated.
Shaking their heads, they looked around. With everything calm, they had the leisure to figure things out. They noticed their father leaning against the doorway, watching their mother with a soft smile growing.
She beamed. Dad's a sap for Mum now.
Yep, her brother agreed. Guess he likes everything about her appearance. His eyes narrowed as he smirked. Right down to her teeth.
She blinked. What about them?
His smirk grew. Oo nothing, just that you've got mum's teeth.
She glared and leaned forward. Don't knock it, bro! You've got dad's freckles. Every last one!
He narrowed his eyes. Yeah, well you got all of Mum's.
Oi, are we comparing traits? Well, look at all the gravity-defying fuzz on you that only Dad would call hair!
It reminded him of the one sticking point that would bother him for a long time. Yeah and yours is all Mum! Now I'm looking at someone who's truly rude and ginger!
Her eyes flashed. Oi!
Oi!
Oi!
His hands slapped the table, unaware that they'd attracted their family's attention. Don't you oi me!
She stood, fixing her harshest glare on him. You started it!
He sprung to his feet. And I'll finish it!
The two grabbed each other, with muffled grunts as they were suddenly wrestling on the floor. Neither intended to hurt the other, but there was a sibling dispute to be settled!
The Doctor was shocked stiff.
“You two, what are you up to?!”
They quickly stopped and got up at the sound of their grandmother's voice. Their mother's memories came in handy there - neither was keen on getting a Sylvia nagging so soon. “Nothing, Gran,” they chimed.
Donna groaned. She couldn't explain the things she was sensing, and she wasn't in a mood to look carefully at it. She might check later with her husband. Right now she had give a reprimand. “I know you're going to have arguments. All siblings do. But did you have to start something over who got ginger hair and who didn't?!”
They squirmed, sitting back down.
The Doctor groaned. He remembered only having two tussles in his entire childhood. Young Time Lords weren't supposed to tussle. They learned after an electrical shock, much like some humans in this age did to train their dogs. “I don't think I want to know what you think you just did.”
Duplicate Donna managed a tiny grin. “I fought my brother, and won, didn't I?”
Duplicate Doctor glared at her. “No, you didn't!”
“Yes I did!”
“No, I totally won-”
“Shut up, the pair of you!”
All eyes fixed on the Doctor. The irritation in his minor yell was manifesting itself in how he rubbed his neck. Now he felt like he had a tension headache growing.
The twins grimaced. “Sorry, Dad,” they chimed.
Donna exhaled sharply. “Honestly, those two are going to be the death of us! This house isn't ready for two teenagers!”
The Duplicates exchanged a quick look, and smirked. “Is that,” he asked, “the house or its occupants?”
He had the unpleasant surprise of feeling his head lightly cuffed. His eyes popped wide as he realized the source. “Dad!”
The Doctor silenced the coming whine with a glare. “Don't start. You two are adolescents, which means there's a lot you can't yet do, being only fourteen Earth years old.”
“But, Dad!” He knew he was whining as well as his father could, but he had to make his case. “If you count our birth actually being from the day we were cut from your loins, or your arm in our case, then we're technically seventeen, which means by law we can learn-”
“Your future,” Donna snapped, “hangs on you not finishing that sentence, Spaceboy!” She switched her glare onto her daughter. “And don't you go get all smug, Spacegirl! If you're got both of our minds in yours, then you're just as capable of putting your foot in your mouth as he is!”
The smirk faded immediately. She glanced at her brother, who was equally chagrined.
Wilf shook his head as he brought over a full plate for each twin. “There, nice big sandwich for each of ya, and some fruit. Ya must like bananas - your mum put one on each plate.”
Donna groaned as her family's eyes lit up. “Their dad loves bananas. They're so like him I can't imagine they don't, too.”
The twins' mouths instantly watered like a dog's as Wilf put the plates down. Hunger would've made them eat no matter what was put in front of them, but this smelled good. Their human side talking, mostly. “Thanks, Mum! Thanks, Gran! Thanks, Great-Grandy!” And they dug in.
With the first bite, their taste-buds were alive with sensations. Everything was brand-new to them, despite their inherited memories. It was the oddest thing - they had the ingrained table manners of their mother, with the eagerness of their father. Tastes, smells, sounds, textures flooded their awareness. It was almost overwhelming, but hunger drove them forward. Still, the newness coaxed them into savouring each bite, and quickly peeling and trying out their bananas. They couldn't help but make a slew of delighted noises.
It was a rather comical sight. Even Sylvia cracked a smile.
Donna brought over a plate for the Doctor and sighed. “Well, now for all the mundane things about life on Earth. Got to stop at Primark for clothes for the both of you, unless Sarah Jane knows how to get some things with fewer questions. Gonna have to play the 'my possessions were destroyed' card with anyone who asks why you're in clothes and shoes too large for you two.”
The Doctor gladly accepted the plate, delighted to see that he got the biggest banana, but froze as her words sank in. You're not going to demand I go with, are you?
She flashed a mock-sweet smile. What, you think you don't owe me for scaring me with that exile bullocks?
He flinched. Okay, he would be paying for that for a while. So he sighed, already resigned to being bag carrier.
Aw, she soothed, it'll just be for some basics. We can't buy a lot - don't have the money. Most has to go toward the mortgage and such.
He met her eyes. There's still a mortgage on this house?!
“Ere,” Wilf said, interrupting the silent exchange, “what do we call you two? You need names. How do Time Lords get their names?”
Donna cleared her throat, taking charge. “Well, there's the public name and then the private name, known only the spouse.”
“Actually,” the Doctor commented, “only the males had a secret name. Part of the old magic that made the marriage bond work.”
Duplicate Donna finished swallowing her latest bite as her father talked. “No, Dad, we each seem to have one.”
That got their father's complete attention. “How?!”
Duplicate Doctor shrugged, pausing his eating. “Who knows? We both came predominantly from you, so that would explain her having one. Maybe the regeneration energy interacted with the TARDIS and allowed her to tell us.”
As the twins dug back in to the second half of their respective sandwiches, their father contemplated the thought a moment. He gave up rather early for him, shrugging. “Good an answer as any. But,” he added, putting his plate down as he sat between them to ensure the peace was maintained, “I do have your public names.”
The twins nearly choked on their bites. They held all the memories of their father's efforts at naming things. Some were so ridiculous that they felt a bit nervous over what he might have in mind.
“Aye aye,” Donna moaned. “Here we go.” She had visions of something truly outrageous.
“No, no, no, Donna, these names suit them!”
The puppy-eyes, combined with a mental plea to trust him, made Donna melt in spite of herself. “What'd ya think of, Spaceman?”
The Doctor clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. “Here we have Benjamin Primus Noble.”
The boy's eyes widened. “Primus?!”
“Effectively first born, since the hand was once me, and you grew from it. Which makes Benjamin perfect.”
Donna blinked. “'The son of the right hand.' You're naming him the son of your right hand?”
“Isn't that the meaning of the name?”
She noted her son's pained look, which she knew was over the middle name. Still, it wasn't the worst name she'd ever heard for an English boy. “What about for her?”
The Doctor beamed at his wary daughter. “Bella Asteria Noble.”
His son glared at him. “Playing favourites, Dad?”
“Oi,” the Doctor retorted. “It's fitting. You know your mum's special, and you're each part her so therefore you're both special. You also know from your mum's memories that fathers and daughters have their own bond. She's my beautiful little star, so I think that should be her name.”
Donna suppressed a grin. Flattering, but he had overlooked something. As usual. “Sunshine, her initials would be BAN. Doubt a teenager wants that.”
He blinked. His daughter raised an eyebrow - rather like he did - and he immediately answered, “Well, then we flip the order: Asteria Bella.”
His daughter closed her eyes. She could see some teasing if she ever admitted to why she had her name. Just the way people this physical age were. Still, it was clear their dad loved them. Sighing, she shook her head. “I'll take ABN as my initials, but I'll go by Bella, thank you kindly.” And she bit into her banana.
The Doctor grinned, thrilled that she'd agreed. And dug into his own sandwich.
His son groaned silently, seeing that he'd lost the battle on his middle name. Although how many kids got any say in their name? “Fine, but I'm going by Ben.”
“Oi,” his mother warned, “watch the snippy tone.” Although she was painfully aware that she probably sounded a lot like her mother then, she did need to train the kids to behave.
Sylvia finished preparing the rest of dinner. “Where are we going to put them? It'd be best if they each had their own room, but we only have one spare bedroom and that's full.” She didn't want to add that it was full with Geoffrey's things, as well as her mother's. She couldn't bear the thought of parting with them, and she would bet her father felt the same.
The twins blinked, and shared a silent exchange. “Gran, that's not necessary,” Bella insisted. “We can stand sharing a room for now. We know the law will force us to change that eventually, but we can live with sharing until we figure something out.”
Ben nodded as a tired Wilf sat in the other chair as the table. “After all, we each know what the other has. What's the problem?”
Donna was in the middle of drawing two chairs from the larger formal table to the crowded kitchen one, and froze in place. “Are you serious? You sure you can avoid killing each other?!”
Wilf was thoughtful. “Now, that fight was a tussle. Happens once in a while. And they're adjusting to being people. They might be the only brother and sister who can share a room at their age, though.”
“Really,” Bella added, “it's hardly the worst thing in the world! I mean, think about the theatre!”
Ben nodded, grimacing. “Yeah! After all, you might be seeing a total stranger starkers!”
The Doctor burst out laughing. The delivery was so matter-of-fact that he couldn't have done better. He heard Wilf snickering, too, and shared an amused look.
As for Sylvia and Donna? Not so amused. “That's not funny!” snapped Sylvia.
“Oh, it is!” the Doctor choked on his laughter, tears forming.
Donna had enough so she handed her dinner back to her mother, raising a significant fingre. She walked over to her still laughing husband and leaned in. “So...tell, me Sunshine: how would you like it if pictures of you started circulating, wearing a stupid little hat...and not one other stitch on?”
He promptly choked so hard on air that his respiratory bypass kicked in, flushing a shade that tried to match his wife's hair. It cracked the twins up.
Sylvia tried to not imagine it as her daughter flashed a grim smile at having made her point.
The Mott-Noble household was silent. At least it wasn't the deathly kind of earlier that evening, thought the two teenagers lying resting in the living room. Full from a big, home-cooked meal, they needed rest.
So a sleeping bag on the chair facing the stairs for Ben and blankets on the couch for Bella had to do. Until the family either managed an expansion - which was highly unlikely unless their dad dipped into the things he acquired over the millennia - or cleared that room. Whichever came first.
Mind, given the questions he was asking over dinner - once he'd recovered from the horror of their mother's imagined photographic evidence and the worse horror of imagining Rose Tyler getting hold of anything like that - about the family finances, he was thinking about doing just that. Not to mention the thoughts they caught wind of.
The questions, along with a few about teenagers in the Mott-Noble bloodlines, continued until their mother proclaimed it was time to set up bedding for the twins. They'd grumbled, but their bodies were winding down for the night, the regeneration energy on a quiet moment.
Although the sight of their gran's face as she realized that there was a man who actually had the right to share her daughter's bed? Priceless.
Bella sighed. She found that she wasn't really tired, but needed rest nonetheless. How long do you think the effects of regeneration energy will last in us?
Ben rolled on his side. He figured he should at least look at his sister while talking with her. Politeness and all, even in the dark. Not like they couldn't see. Well, Dad didn't feel rejuvenated until...24 hours after he recovered from the sickness?
But we're part human. She turned her head, not feeling like rolling over. That should cut it down, shouldn't it?
In theory. But we're not exactly normal.
A smirk. What's normal where Dad's concerned? Or Mum?
A grin. Point taken.
An intense flash within their minds made them both flinch. Oh, my God! Bella rubbed her eyes, even though it wouldn't get rid of the mental sight. Dad, put some shields up!
Ben cringed and shuddered. Yeah, we're trying to lock some memories away! Can't do it when you're openly and loudly broadcasting what you're doing with Mum!
The link went silent. For a moment.
Oh, Ben said to his sister, that flash of irritation wasn't from Dad.
Yeah, it's been a while for Mum for anything. Must be impatient for her wedding night. Bella wished she'd already locked that knowledge away, but things weren't working on anything like a schedule. Sadly.
Then they each felt things they had trouble making out. Their parents had put shields up, but some things were leaking through. Then they faintly heard something from upstairs. Was that a door, Ben asked, at this hour?!
Bella listened keenly. Something about being a Duplicate of their mother made her more aware of the nuances of the house. Must be, because I swear I hear footsteps. Two pairs.
Sure enough, they heard soft footfalls on the stairs. They waited until Bella could see their parents - in their jim-jams heading for the door. Is that, Ben demanded, Seven's umbrella?!
Bella lifted her body to push herself into sight. You two are going out in this downpour?!
Their mother glared at them. I'd rather no one could overhear, thank you very much!
Think we want to know what you're up to?! The twins shot their mother's glare back at her.
That's enough! The Doctor meddled with the umbrella, ready to open it to keep his wife dry. Only it seemed to be stuck. Sighing, he fixed his children with a pointed look. You two are staying right here. If we're not back inside by breakfast, you can knock on the TARDIS. Come morning, we'll talk about what school you'll be attending next month. He smirked and quickly ushered Donna outside, giving up on staying dry.
The twins stared after them, trying to follow their father's odd logic. Then it hit them, shooting them bolt upright. School?! Bella cried.
Life as teenagers?! Ben paled.
Dealing with all the idiot students and teachers?!
No travel in the TARDIS?!
They both moved to jump up after their parents, but the TARDIS boomed in their minds: Stay!
Cringing, they looked in her direction. Why?
They felt the Old Girl give an awkward laugh. You'll get more than you bargained for.
Looking at each other, it dawned on them that there was a tradition of...christening...a room. They each turned as red as Bella's hair and sank back under the covers, pulling their own shields up as tightly as possible.
Meanwhile, the TARDIS sighed. She'd give her Thief what-for over leaving wet jim-jams strewn all over her Control Room later. The poor Time Lord was, after all, giving into the powerful urges woken by the earlier kiss after bonding to Donna. Repressing those so-called lesser impulses had been one of the worst consequences of the Curse forcing the Looms into being. The Doctor might have avoided some ugly situations if he'd known a little more about emotions.
Still, she mentally sighed, it led him to Donna Noble. She would birth a new race of Time Lords, ensuring that the Doctor was never alone again.
So she'd keep the thoughts of her Thief and his Wife private. They certainly needed the help; their control was already non-existent, and they were far too distracted by mutual exploration.
And she kept them from sensing what she could. Like the vague impression that there was another Time Lord out there. That could be explored later.
After the Doctor had cleaned the Jump Seat. Bipedal beings had no idea the messes they left behind.
Chapter 8: The Menace Tells All