(Doctor Who/Heroes) Jewel of the Empire for gladdecease
Title: Jewel of the Empire
Author: hobbit_eyes
Fandoms: Doctor Who/Heroes
Characters Adam Monroe; 10th Doctor
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Wordcount: 2645
Spoilers: Series 2 Doctor Who, Series 2 Heroes, but very little reference to any actual plot
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and Heroes belong to their respective creators. London belongs to Queen and Country
A/N: This was originally a chapter in a far larger story which I soon realized would be impossible to complete on time. I may finish it one day!
Summary: London, the Great Exhibition, 1851, was full of all the wonders of the modern world. Including the chance encounter of two immortal men.
The Great Exhibition, 1851
Adam Monroe neatly dodged another excited family and continued to weave his way through the thronging crowd packed into the Crystal Palace. Sunlight shone down on them from the newly-constructed crystal-panel ceiling, gently warming the top of his head. It was already stuffy inside - by lunchtime, he imagined this place would be all too airless.
Getting caught up in another clump of people, he barely restrained an exasperated sigh. Certainly all this spectacle must be exciting to the mundanes, but having lived so long and travelled so far, there was little that was new to him any more.
Of all the wonders of their brave new world, there was only one thing here of any interest to him.
He reached the back of the queue and actually did sigh this time. He could just about see the tops of the hats of what he imagined were some very harassed policemen at the front, struggling to keep everyone waiting calmly. He could be here for another couple of hours.
Adam may have been around 300 years old by this point (he’d lost count somewhere around the late 18th century) but that didn’t mean he’d learned patience. He spotted a chaperoned young lady at the back fluttering a fan and staring transfixedly up at the crystal ceiling. Adam sidled in close behind her to whisper in her ear, barely moving his lips and unnoticed by all around.
Neither he nor the young lady in question would ever besmirch another living breath with words of the variety he used, but suffice it to say that the young lass shrieked a great shriek of shock and swooned to the floor, scandalized to within an inch of her sanity.
All heads in the vicinity immediately snapped in their direction, to find Adam with the fair maiden in his arms and a perfectly feigned look of shock on his face. “This lady has taken ill!” he cried in alarm. “Gentlemen, get her some air!”
The lady was not an unattractive one, so there was no shortage of volunteers to run forward and help carry her out. As soon as she was borne away, Adam melted back into the crowd, all the better to choose another likely ear and whisper into it, “Perhaps it is the effect of the diamond. They do say it is cursed…”
If there was one thing the British liked more than complaining about queues, it was scandal. This whisper had a quieter, subtler, but no less effective result - the story of the cursed diamond rippled gently through the crowd, and suddenly many of the people seemed to decide that queuing for so long to see something that might just kill them anyway was not the best way to spend such a lovely afternoon.
Several minutes later, most of the crowd had dispersed, and Adam easily managed to make his way to the front and see what he had come all this way to see - the Koh-i-Noor, or ‘Mountain of Light’. At 105 carats, it was the largest diamond ever discovered. Passed from kings to commanders to emperors, it had finally been brought from India and given to Queen Victoria, leaving a trail of strange misfortune and death in its wake. It was unarguably one of the centrepieces of the Prince’s Great Exhibition, with half of London queuing to get a glimpse of more wealth than their families would ever possess in a hundred years.
Of course, Adam himself was hoping to get wealth uncannily similar to its exact value within the next few days, if all went well.
He cast a quick cursory glance around the room. There were very few people in it, save himself and a few other individuals, and only one standing directly next to him. That man, though strangely dressed, was just staring at the diamond, with little interest in anything else, so Adam ignored him. He looked around again, slowly this time. There were no entrances other than the one he had come through, and that would undoubtedly be guarded. This would be tricky.
“Bit overrated, isn’t it?”
The man next to him had spoken in unmistakeable conversation-starting tones, and Adam was surprised, even a little annoyed. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s the largest diamond in the world. It lives up to its reputation, at least.”
“Yes, but they haven’t taken full advantage of it. It’s so enclosed, you don’t get the full light effect. It just looks dull. But then, I suppose its security has to come first. Have to protect it from thieves, don’t they?”
There was something in his tone of voice that gave Adam the wild, inexplicable feeling that this strange man knew everything that had just been running through his head, but he very carefully didn’t react. “I suppose so. Though if those stories about a curse are true…”
“Ah, yes, those. Very popular, aren’t they? There was no need for that panic outside, though.”
“Panic?” Adam asked innocently.
The man turned to look at him for the first time. He was wearing a sardonic expression that somehow endeared him to Adam instantly. “They’re British. They panic in a quiet and orderly fashion.” He turned back to the diamond. “Anyway, as I was saying, they had nothing to worry about, least of all that girl. They say a woman may possess the diamond safely… or a god.”
A small smile escaped onto Adam’s face. “Or a god,” he echoed.
They both looked at the diamond in appreciative silence. Adam tried to get his mind back onto how he was supposed to break into this room without getting shot too many times, but his train of thought kept wandering back to the strange man to his left. His accent, though odd, had hints of London about it. His clothes certainly weren’t from around here, but then, this Exhibition attracted all sorts. But there was something else in what he’d said, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on yet.
It suddenly occurred to him. The way he’d said ‘British people’, like he wasn’t one of them. But his accent was certainly British…
“Do you know the exact wording of the curse?” the man went on, as though there’d been no gap in the conversationjerking him back into an unexpected conversation. “‘He who owns this diamond will own the world, but will also know all its misfortunes.’”
Adam raised his eyebrows. “Quite harsh, I must say.”
“Mm.” The man’s face was unreadable. “Some would hear that and run a mile before going anywhere near it. But some… some might think it would be worth it. To suffer all that misfortune… just to own the world.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, until Adam shrugged and forced a laugh. “And some don’t have time for curses. I’ve got to be going.”
“Yes! You should look round the rest of the exhibition.” Adam had turned to leave, but at this, the man also turned and fell into step beside him. “There’s plenty to see. Things far more interesting than some cursed diamond which doesn’t even sparkle properly.”
“Yes, can’t imagine why anyone would want to see that.” This man swung wildly between intriguing Adam and irritating the hell out of him.
“Well, it has little purpose in and of itself. It’s nice to look at. But I certainly hope it doesn’t get stolen.” The man suddenly gave Adam a look that made him stop dead in his tracks. “I might need it.”
“What---” Adam tried to force a laugh again, but at the look in the man’s eyes, it got lost somewhere in his throat and died quietly. “You might need it? What does that even mean?”
The man’s intensity suddenly evaporated, and his face broke into a bright cheerful smile. “Hypothetically, of course!”
“Hypothetically?”
“Yes! In… say… twenty-eight years.”
“Twenty-eight years??”
“In Scotland. The Torchwood estate.”
“Scotland??”
“Still hypothetically, of course.”
Adam was more baffled than he’d been in over fifty years. It was quite refreshing. “That’s pretty exact for hypothetically.”
“Quite. So I hope it doesn’t get stolen.” The man just smiled again, and clapped Adam on the shoulder. “Take a look round the rest of the Exhibition! Plenty to see. Plenty to inspire an enterprising gentleman like yourself… things far better than that diamond.”
Adam nodded slowly. “I suppose so.”
“Indeed. Take care of yourself, Adam.” The man turned and began to walk away.
Startled, Adam called, “Wait!” But the man had already frozen. As Adam ran up to his side, he distinctly heard him mutter, “Oops.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Errr.” The man actually looked embarrassed. “You told me?”
“No, I didn’t. I haven’t told anyone that name yet! It’s new!”
“Ah.” The man looked up, as though finding the crystal ceiling fascinating. “Fancy.”
Though the man looked utterly unperturbed, more self-conscious than anything, Adam’s mind was racing. How could this man know so much? The name ‘Adam’ was new - a planned alias for when he pulled off this job. Though if it was already common knowledge, that clearly wasn’t going to work. Shame, though - he’d quite liked it.
He forced himself to stop automatically thinking of new names and fixed the man with his most serious look. It was a very good look, which he’d worked very hard on. expression, which had oOn several occasions, it had sent lesser men running screaming from bar fights before they even began. “Tell me. How do you know my name?”
This man was clearly not one of those lesser men. He simply flicked his gaze from the ceiling to Adam’s face, and smiled slightly, as though he found it just as interesting. “I said. You told me.”
“I didn’t---”
“Not today.” The man sighed. “You told me in 1966.”
Adam stared, and somehow managed to perfectly convey complete bafflement without uttering a word.
The man smiled bashfully. “You’re not the only immortal man in London, Adam.”
“But… how can you---”
He held up his hands. “I can’t tell you everything now. That’d ruin all the fun for Future You and Past Me.” While Adam tried to figure out whether anything in that sentence made sense, the man went on, “In July 1966, you’re here in London. You leave in thirty years or so - all the good parties die along with Albert - but you come back, on business for the people you work with. You’ll be here when England wins the World Cup Final.”
“The what?”
The man grinned. “You’ll know. Bet big, all right? You and I have a lot of celebrating to do that night.”
“I… I meet you again in July 1966?”
“Yes and no. You meet me again. For me, it’ll be the first time.”
Suddenly the light through the crystal ceiling seemed all too dizzying, and the man laid a steadying hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Try not to think too much about it. But it’s a good night. You’re pretty lucky, actually, you still get to live through it. Oh!” The man suddenly jumped and clapped twice, grinning excitedly. “Be mysterious, OK? It’ll be fun! And I don’t get to be surprised often. It’s refreshing!”
Trying to ignore the fact that he’d felt almost the exact same thing earlier, Adam chose a button on the man’s long brown coat to focus on while he got his many muddled thoughts in order. “If you’re from the future,” he eventually managed, “why come back to meet me here?”
The man blinked. “I would have thought that was obvious! You tell me how you were going to steal the Koh-i-Noor. And I DO rather need it in the future.”
“Right,” muttered Adam. “In twenty-eight years. In Scotland. Right.”
“Exactly! Oh, and that reminds me… if you’re still in London around then… stay away from Buckingham Palace around full moon? You and I have enough trouble on that night in 1966.”
Adam was struggling to manage with all this, but the man was grinning as if time-travel paradoxes like this happened every day. “Anyway! Really must be going. Said far too much. Toodles!”
“Wait!” called Adam again in disbelief as the man turned and started to walk away. “Who are you?”
The man turned but continued walking backwards, somehow effortlessly not crashing into anybody. “Oh, did I not say? I’m the Doctor.”
“A doctor?”
“No, THE Doctor.” He grinned. “Simple enough mistake, but there’s a difference. Believe me.”
With one last flash of a smile, he turned again and disappeared into the crowd. Adam stood and stared at where he had disappeared for quite some time, before deciding that, yes, looking round some of the other exhibits might be a good idea.
The Blind Beggar Pub, 1966
“You know, the Great Exhibition was a fascinating event,” remarked Adam, signalling the barman to bring over two more beers. “Everyone talks about the Koh-i-Noor and industry, but there was also a demonstration by a man, Alfred Charles Hobbs, on common locks and how they could easily be broken… very inspiring to the right, er, enterprising mind.”
“Oh, that’s… great. Yes. Um. I suppose so.” The Doctor stared as a beer was set down in front of him. He’d only popped into the bar for a moment to catch the end of the World Cup match on the television, but had found himself sitting next to a strange blond man, who at first had stared at him in amazement and then launched into a conversation as though they were old friends. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”
“Not at all.” Adam beamed and held out a hand. “Adam Monroe.”
The Doctor slowly took it. “I’m the Doctor.”
“Fantastic. Good for you.” He nodded up at a TV set in the corner, which was surrounded by far more people than he was sure fire regulations allowed, all staring transfixed. “As soon as this is over, I’ll get the next round. We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do, and I’ve got the bet coming in to pay for it.”
The Doctor frowned, examining Adam more closely. “You’re pretty sure England’s going to win, then?”
Adam winked. “Just a hunch.”
“… You’re sure we haven’t met before?”
“Wouldn’t you remember?” asked Adam innocently.
“I guess…” The Doctor stared for a moment longer, but then shrugged, smiled and picked up his beer. “Fair enough! Where to next, then?”
“Anywhere but here. This place is going to get rammed. This is a popular place, judging by all the taxi drivers who just happened to be here when Ronnie Kray murdered George Cornell.”
“Oh, tell me about it. I actually was, I didn’t see half of them!”
Adam looked puzzled. “So was I. I didn’t see you.”
“Yeah… I looked a bit different.”
“Haircut?”
“… bit more extreme. Did you see a guy who looked like he’d just fallen off a U-boat and was really mad about it?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” The Doctor just took another drink of his beer, shaking his head.
The blond man’s frown suddenly broke into a wide smile, a smile the Doctor didn’t think he used much. “Still refreshing,” he remarked.
The Doctor nodded slowly, trying to ignore the fact he’d been feeling quite the same way. “Anyway, as we were saying. I know a good place down by Green Park, how about there?”
“Sounds good to me.” They clinked their bottles together, and in that instant, they were the only two men in England not watching when Hurst sent the ball rocketing into the back of the net, signalling to the nation in an explosion of jubilation that, for one night, the great British reserve could go cry in a corner with Germany.
Somehow, above all the shouting and screaming, just two sentences could be heard.
“Oh, if we’re going to Green Park, we’d better pick up some silver.”
“Yes, good plan! … wait… what?”
-END-
Prompt:
Dr Who/Heroes: London is the place to be for immortal men. Well, one's immortal and one's 900 years old, but who can tell the difference?
Author: hobbit_eyes
Fandoms: Doctor Who/Heroes
Characters Adam Monroe; 10th Doctor
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Wordcount: 2645
Spoilers: Series 2 Doctor Who, Series 2 Heroes, but very little reference to any actual plot
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and Heroes belong to their respective creators. London belongs to Queen and Country
A/N: This was originally a chapter in a far larger story which I soon realized would be impossible to complete on time. I may finish it one day!
Summary: London, the Great Exhibition, 1851, was full of all the wonders of the modern world. Including the chance encounter of two immortal men.
The Great Exhibition, 1851
Adam Monroe neatly dodged another excited family and continued to weave his way through the thronging crowd packed into the Crystal Palace. Sunlight shone down on them from the newly-constructed crystal-panel ceiling, gently warming the top of his head. It was already stuffy inside - by lunchtime, he imagined this place would be all too airless.
Getting caught up in another clump of people, he barely restrained an exasperated sigh. Certainly all this spectacle must be exciting to the mundanes, but having lived so long and travelled so far, there was little that was new to him any more.
Of all the wonders of their brave new world, there was only one thing here of any interest to him.
He reached the back of the queue and actually did sigh this time. He could just about see the tops of the hats of what he imagined were some very harassed policemen at the front, struggling to keep everyone waiting calmly. He could be here for another couple of hours.
Adam may have been around 300 years old by this point (he’d lost count somewhere around the late 18th century) but that didn’t mean he’d learned patience. He spotted a chaperoned young lady at the back fluttering a fan and staring transfixedly up at the crystal ceiling. Adam sidled in close behind her to whisper in her ear, barely moving his lips and unnoticed by all around.
Neither he nor the young lady in question would ever besmirch another living breath with words of the variety he used, but suffice it to say that the young lass shrieked a great shriek of shock and swooned to the floor, scandalized to within an inch of her sanity.
All heads in the vicinity immediately snapped in their direction, to find Adam with the fair maiden in his arms and a perfectly feigned look of shock on his face. “This lady has taken ill!” he cried in alarm. “Gentlemen, get her some air!”
The lady was not an unattractive one, so there was no shortage of volunteers to run forward and help carry her out. As soon as she was borne away, Adam melted back into the crowd, all the better to choose another likely ear and whisper into it, “Perhaps it is the effect of the diamond. They do say it is cursed…”
If there was one thing the British liked more than complaining about queues, it was scandal. This whisper had a quieter, subtler, but no less effective result - the story of the cursed diamond rippled gently through the crowd, and suddenly many of the people seemed to decide that queuing for so long to see something that might just kill them anyway was not the best way to spend such a lovely afternoon.
Several minutes later, most of the crowd had dispersed, and Adam easily managed to make his way to the front and see what he had come all this way to see - the Koh-i-Noor, or ‘Mountain of Light’. At 105 carats, it was the largest diamond ever discovered. Passed from kings to commanders to emperors, it had finally been brought from India and given to Queen Victoria, leaving a trail of strange misfortune and death in its wake. It was unarguably one of the centrepieces of the Prince’s Great Exhibition, with half of London queuing to get a glimpse of more wealth than their families would ever possess in a hundred years.
Of course, Adam himself was hoping to get wealth uncannily similar to its exact value within the next few days, if all went well.
He cast a quick cursory glance around the room. There were very few people in it, save himself and a few other individuals, and only one standing directly next to him. That man, though strangely dressed, was just staring at the diamond, with little interest in anything else, so Adam ignored him. He looked around again, slowly this time. There were no entrances other than the one he had come through, and that would undoubtedly be guarded. This would be tricky.
“Bit overrated, isn’t it?”
The man next to him had spoken in unmistakeable conversation-starting tones, and Adam was surprised, even a little annoyed. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s the largest diamond in the world. It lives up to its reputation, at least.”
“Yes, but they haven’t taken full advantage of it. It’s so enclosed, you don’t get the full light effect. It just looks dull. But then, I suppose its security has to come first. Have to protect it from thieves, don’t they?”
There was something in his tone of voice that gave Adam the wild, inexplicable feeling that this strange man knew everything that had just been running through his head, but he very carefully didn’t react. “I suppose so. Though if those stories about a curse are true…”
“Ah, yes, those. Very popular, aren’t they? There was no need for that panic outside, though.”
“Panic?” Adam asked innocently.
The man turned to look at him for the first time. He was wearing a sardonic expression that somehow endeared him to Adam instantly. “They’re British. They panic in a quiet and orderly fashion.” He turned back to the diamond. “Anyway, as I was saying, they had nothing to worry about, least of all that girl. They say a woman may possess the diamond safely… or a god.”
A small smile escaped onto Adam’s face. “Or a god,” he echoed.
They both looked at the diamond in appreciative silence. Adam tried to get his mind back onto how he was supposed to break into this room without getting shot too many times, but his train of thought kept wandering back to the strange man to his left. His accent, though odd, had hints of London about it. His clothes certainly weren’t from around here, but then, this Exhibition attracted all sorts. But there was something else in what he’d said, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on yet.
It suddenly occurred to him. The way he’d said ‘British people’, like he wasn’t one of them. But his accent was certainly British…
“Do you know the exact wording of the curse?” the man went on, as though there’d been no gap in the conversationjerking him back into an unexpected conversation. “‘He who owns this diamond will own the world, but will also know all its misfortunes.’”
Adam raised his eyebrows. “Quite harsh, I must say.”
“Mm.” The man’s face was unreadable. “Some would hear that and run a mile before going anywhere near it. But some… some might think it would be worth it. To suffer all that misfortune… just to own the world.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, until Adam shrugged and forced a laugh. “And some don’t have time for curses. I’ve got to be going.”
“Yes! You should look round the rest of the exhibition.” Adam had turned to leave, but at this, the man also turned and fell into step beside him. “There’s plenty to see. Things far more interesting than some cursed diamond which doesn’t even sparkle properly.”
“Yes, can’t imagine why anyone would want to see that.” This man swung wildly between intriguing Adam and irritating the hell out of him.
“Well, it has little purpose in and of itself. It’s nice to look at. But I certainly hope it doesn’t get stolen.” The man suddenly gave Adam a look that made him stop dead in his tracks. “I might need it.”
“What---” Adam tried to force a laugh again, but at the look in the man’s eyes, it got lost somewhere in his throat and died quietly. “You might need it? What does that even mean?”
The man’s intensity suddenly evaporated, and his face broke into a bright cheerful smile. “Hypothetically, of course!”
“Hypothetically?”
“Yes! In… say… twenty-eight years.”
“Twenty-eight years??”
“In Scotland. The Torchwood estate.”
“Scotland??”
“Still hypothetically, of course.”
Adam was more baffled than he’d been in over fifty years. It was quite refreshing. “That’s pretty exact for hypothetically.”
“Quite. So I hope it doesn’t get stolen.” The man just smiled again, and clapped Adam on the shoulder. “Take a look round the rest of the Exhibition! Plenty to see. Plenty to inspire an enterprising gentleman like yourself… things far better than that diamond.”
Adam nodded slowly. “I suppose so.”
“Indeed. Take care of yourself, Adam.” The man turned and began to walk away.
Startled, Adam called, “Wait!” But the man had already frozen. As Adam ran up to his side, he distinctly heard him mutter, “Oops.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Errr.” The man actually looked embarrassed. “You told me?”
“No, I didn’t. I haven’t told anyone that name yet! It’s new!”
“Ah.” The man looked up, as though finding the crystal ceiling fascinating. “Fancy.”
Though the man looked utterly unperturbed, more self-conscious than anything, Adam’s mind was racing. How could this man know so much? The name ‘Adam’ was new - a planned alias for when he pulled off this job. Though if it was already common knowledge, that clearly wasn’t going to work. Shame, though - he’d quite liked it.
He forced himself to stop automatically thinking of new names and fixed the man with his most serious look. It was a very good look, which he’d worked very hard on. expression, which had oOn several occasions, it had sent lesser men running screaming from bar fights before they even began. “Tell me. How do you know my name?”
This man was clearly not one of those lesser men. He simply flicked his gaze from the ceiling to Adam’s face, and smiled slightly, as though he found it just as interesting. “I said. You told me.”
“I didn’t---”
“Not today.” The man sighed. “You told me in 1966.”
Adam stared, and somehow managed to perfectly convey complete bafflement without uttering a word.
The man smiled bashfully. “You’re not the only immortal man in London, Adam.”
“But… how can you---”
He held up his hands. “I can’t tell you everything now. That’d ruin all the fun for Future You and Past Me.” While Adam tried to figure out whether anything in that sentence made sense, the man went on, “In July 1966, you’re here in London. You leave in thirty years or so - all the good parties die along with Albert - but you come back, on business for the people you work with. You’ll be here when England wins the World Cup Final.”
“The what?”
The man grinned. “You’ll know. Bet big, all right? You and I have a lot of celebrating to do that night.”
“I… I meet you again in July 1966?”
“Yes and no. You meet me again. For me, it’ll be the first time.”
Suddenly the light through the crystal ceiling seemed all too dizzying, and the man laid a steadying hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Try not to think too much about it. But it’s a good night. You’re pretty lucky, actually, you still get to live through it. Oh!” The man suddenly jumped and clapped twice, grinning excitedly. “Be mysterious, OK? It’ll be fun! And I don’t get to be surprised often. It’s refreshing!”
Trying to ignore the fact that he’d felt almost the exact same thing earlier, Adam chose a button on the man’s long brown coat to focus on while he got his many muddled thoughts in order. “If you’re from the future,” he eventually managed, “why come back to meet me here?”
The man blinked. “I would have thought that was obvious! You tell me how you were going to steal the Koh-i-Noor. And I DO rather need it in the future.”
“Right,” muttered Adam. “In twenty-eight years. In Scotland. Right.”
“Exactly! Oh, and that reminds me… if you’re still in London around then… stay away from Buckingham Palace around full moon? You and I have enough trouble on that night in 1966.”
Adam was struggling to manage with all this, but the man was grinning as if time-travel paradoxes like this happened every day. “Anyway! Really must be going. Said far too much. Toodles!”
“Wait!” called Adam again in disbelief as the man turned and started to walk away. “Who are you?”
The man turned but continued walking backwards, somehow effortlessly not crashing into anybody. “Oh, did I not say? I’m the Doctor.”
“A doctor?”
“No, THE Doctor.” He grinned. “Simple enough mistake, but there’s a difference. Believe me.”
With one last flash of a smile, he turned again and disappeared into the crowd. Adam stood and stared at where he had disappeared for quite some time, before deciding that, yes, looking round some of the other exhibits might be a good idea.
The Blind Beggar Pub, 1966
“You know, the Great Exhibition was a fascinating event,” remarked Adam, signalling the barman to bring over two more beers. “Everyone talks about the Koh-i-Noor and industry, but there was also a demonstration by a man, Alfred Charles Hobbs, on common locks and how they could easily be broken… very inspiring to the right, er, enterprising mind.”
“Oh, that’s… great. Yes. Um. I suppose so.” The Doctor stared as a beer was set down in front of him. He’d only popped into the bar for a moment to catch the end of the World Cup match on the television, but had found himself sitting next to a strange blond man, who at first had stared at him in amazement and then launched into a conversation as though they were old friends. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”
“Not at all.” Adam beamed and held out a hand. “Adam Monroe.”
The Doctor slowly took it. “I’m the Doctor.”
“Fantastic. Good for you.” He nodded up at a TV set in the corner, which was surrounded by far more people than he was sure fire regulations allowed, all staring transfixed. “As soon as this is over, I’ll get the next round. We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do, and I’ve got the bet coming in to pay for it.”
The Doctor frowned, examining Adam more closely. “You’re pretty sure England’s going to win, then?”
Adam winked. “Just a hunch.”
“… You’re sure we haven’t met before?”
“Wouldn’t you remember?” asked Adam innocently.
“I guess…” The Doctor stared for a moment longer, but then shrugged, smiled and picked up his beer. “Fair enough! Where to next, then?”
“Anywhere but here. This place is going to get rammed. This is a popular place, judging by all the taxi drivers who just happened to be here when Ronnie Kray murdered George Cornell.”
“Oh, tell me about it. I actually was, I didn’t see half of them!”
Adam looked puzzled. “So was I. I didn’t see you.”
“Yeah… I looked a bit different.”
“Haircut?”
“… bit more extreme. Did you see a guy who looked like he’d just fallen off a U-boat and was really mad about it?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” The Doctor just took another drink of his beer, shaking his head.
The blond man’s frown suddenly broke into a wide smile, a smile the Doctor didn’t think he used much. “Still refreshing,” he remarked.
The Doctor nodded slowly, trying to ignore the fact he’d been feeling quite the same way. “Anyway, as we were saying. I know a good place down by Green Park, how about there?”
“Sounds good to me.” They clinked their bottles together, and in that instant, they were the only two men in England not watching when Hurst sent the ball rocketing into the back of the net, signalling to the nation in an explosion of jubilation that, for one night, the great British reserve could go cry in a corner with Germany.
Somehow, above all the shouting and screaming, just two sentences could be heard.
“Oh, if we’re going to Green Park, we’d better pick up some silver.”
“Yes, good plan! … wait… what?”
-END-
Prompt:
Dr Who/Heroes: London is the place to be for immortal men. Well, one's immortal and one's 900 years old, but who can tell the difference?