Chapter Three: And So It Begins.
The sun shone down on the cheery little neighborhood of that was Juke Street. The happy neighborhood of the more financially secured was located north of the Estates, past London Bridge in the area of Stoke Newington. It was a quaint little area. Clean streets, empty for a spring Saturday afternoon. It was place the people who were not like the pair in the little yellow Volkswagen beetle to live. A peaceful area, where the monsters in the dark don't come. And the big Bad Wolf never comes calling. A place for laughter, family, and security.
Rose and Mickey came to a stop outside of No. 1 Juke Street and both studied the neat brick house, with its shining windows and soft curtains. The sweet garden out front of the house made Rose's heart ache and miss the garden she once had. The two looked at each other, silently communicating, a little nod of each confirmed the plans they had made back at the flat and finalized on the drive out to the residence of a one, Clive Finch, real estate agent, father, husband, pillar of the community, and nearly obsessive in his quest for knowledge about the Doctor. Strictly speaking, Rose could have avoided coming here completely due to foreknowledge. A voice in her mind reminded her, foreknowledge for anyone if dangerous. Even her. So Rose will obey the Universe, to a degree, and do as the time lines demand of her. She would not ever be responsible for Reapers again.
"You sure about this, Babe?" Mickey asked as he leaned against the steering wheel of his little bug, his eyes sweeping the street. Something was different, odd from before. He just couldn't place what it was.
"Have to," Rose said simply as she unbuckled herself and opened the door. "Are you sure?"
"Have to," was the answering grin she got. Reaching out, he made a fist and held it towards her. "See you in Hell?"
Rose laughed, nodded and gave him a fist bump, "See you in Hell."
It always amused her how quickly Jack's farewell before battles caught on with Mickey after Rose had joined Torchwood in the other universe. It became a tradition in Torchwood even after Mickey left to say good bye that way.
Rose darted across the street quickly, her eyes taking in the area around her. How funny it was, she was nineteen, with no muscle memory of anything her knew as reflex, yet her mind retained the habits that were trained into her from a lifetime that will likely never be? Shaking it off, she walked up the path to Clive's house, glancing back at Mickey, then turning to knock politely. Mickey was still leaning against the wheel, watching her like a hawk. His eyes were narrowed and his nose wrinkled up, scowling and trying to look like the tough guy he physically was not yet. Oh the work the two would need to put in to get even partially to where they once were. And how to do that without raising any suspicions, that was the real question. Any farther speculation on the just weird day she was having were pushed to the back of her mind when the door opened and a young boy looked up at her.
"Hi," Rose smiled down at the boy, she remembered him from before. "I'm here to talk to Clive?"
Before the child could yell out, Clive appeared from the living room. Same old Clive, Rose thought. The tall, round man with the friendly smile that just made you instinctively trust him. He was clumsy and warm, beaming at her as he came forward, holding his hand out to her.
"You must be Rose," Clive beamed, excited to meet her in person, a hint of the North East accenting his words.
"You must be Clive Finch," Rose smiled back, taking his hand easily and giving it a shake. "And that's my best mate, Mickey, there in the car. He is just going to wait out here in case you decide to kill me."
"Don't worry about that," Clive laughed, catching her teasing tone and waved to the scowling Mickey followed with a thumbs-up. "No murders here!"
"I hope not," Rose quipped, straightening up, her eyes gave away the fact she was still just playing, "I would hate to have to knock your block off if you tried. Is that understood?"
"Perfectly, ma'am!" Clive gave Rose a salute that made her laugh again. Stepping to the side, Clive let Rose into the house, closing the door behind her. Before the door closed, she looked back at winked at Mickey. Now it was his turn. Clive lead her into the entry hall when a voice called out from upstairs, "Who is it?"
"One of Dad's nutters," yelled back a new voice Rose did not remember.
Clive, for his part, looked mortified that was said in front of his guest. "He's just joking, sorry. Michael!" An older boy stuck his head out of the living space, giving his father a wide eyed innocent look. "Behave!"
"Don't worry about it," Rose chuckled. "After the day I've had, I feel a bit like a nutter."
"Well, come on, come through," Clive beamed at her, so happy she was not taking offense to his sons. "I've got all the stuff, it's in the shed. Oh, that sounds a bit murder, doesn't it?" Clive winked at her and Rose couldn't stop the laughter from spilling out. Clive took a step to the side to call up the stairs to his wife, "It's a Doctor thing, I might be a while. She's been reading the website, she might have evidence!"
More than might, Rose thought with a grin, watching how excited Clive was. While his attention was off her, Rose let her mind relax and her third eye to open. She watched carefully, trying to see the timelines around the household. So many in flux. It was too hard to focus, so she blinked a few times, letting them go again.
"She?" Caroline Finch called back. "She's read a website the Doctor and she's a she?"
Two boys started cackling on the couch catching Rose's attention. A little surprised, she watched the two. Last time, Clive had one child, the one who had opened the door. Now, there he was beside his elder brother, the one Clive called Michael.
"My lot are so funny," Clive playfully growled at his family, kicking the couch cushion closest to him, missing the boys by a mile. Shaking his head at them, he turned to Rose and smiled. "Ready?"
Rose could only grin and nod her head, following Clive through the house into the backyard, where the shed waited. The shed was a little different than the one in her memories. She was starting to question her memories, after all she was in her forties when she… when whatever happened, happened. There was more to the little shed, and all so well filed. Clive had done some serious research, she couldn't help but think as she wandered in behind him. A light table stood in the center of the room, the sides of it covered in photos and reports. The back wall was nothing but cupboards and filing cabinet, each one labeled and kept in immaculate order. One of the cupboards caught Rose's attention, there were drawers in it, each one numbered. It started at '01' and the last one she could see displayed '14'. The right wall had maps covering it, a cork board keeping out from behind the maps and photos pinned up. The opposite wall was covered from floor to ceiling in some places with file boxes and security tapes, and other assorted VHS. There was a word at the top of the wall she could make out 'T-O', a box then 'H-W-O-O-D'. Her eyes darted to the other wall and spotted a similar title at the top of the cork board, 'U-N-I-T'. Rose went pale seeing the two words. Anyone else might have thought they said "Touchwood" and "Unit". Rose Tyler was not anyone else, and she knew it was "TORCHWOOD" and "U.N.I.T.". Oh this man was in deep, she thought suddenly scared for him.
"Please," Clive said, "have a seat. Shall I make us a cuppa while we talk?"
He motioned to a stool near the window beside the door. Numbly, Rose accepted and sat. She watched as Clive puttered around to get the electric kettle set for the water before collecting cups and tea bags. "Hope you don't mind milk," he offered a smile in apology to Rose. She couldn't help the grin.
"Milk and sugar are fine for me, Clive."
He beamed at her, his normal setting, she was beginning to suspect. Last time she had been so scared and nervous, she didn't notice any of this. Rose watched as he bumbled around, tidying up a bit while he waited and she let her gaze wonder about. One of the pictures up on the U.N.I.T. wall was a drawing from a period before photographs. Slipping from the chair, she moved to look at it. It was a sketch of her Doctor, well her first one. There were a few photos held by pins and a sting leading from the pin to the map. One of these was of a middle aged man with extremely curly hair, a floppy hat, and an impossibly long scarf, running along the street. Blinking a few times she stepped back from the wall.
"It's a lot to take in," Clive murmured as he came up next to Rose, handing her an X-Flies mug.
Rose could only nod as she smiled softly at the scene in front of her, the mug warm in her hands as the tea bag resting in it did its magic. "Once upon a time, I would have told you I wasn't really into science-fiction stuff."
"Now?" He asked, curiosity mumbling in his tone.
"Just you wait," she laughed and winked at Clive before moving back to the stool and getting comfortable. "So, anyway, the Doctor?"
"Right, yes, sorry," Clive offered that apologetic smile as he set his own mug down, and turned away. He grabbed a few stacks of files, and opened the drawer marked '09'. "This stuff's quite sensitive. In fact, most is top secret. But I've discovered over the years, that if you keep a lively mind and dig deep enough, the Doctor keeps cropping up. All over the world. In history books, political diaries, autobiographies, even in whistleblowers journalism. Even ghost stories. Over and over again, known only by the name, 'The Doctor'."
Rose listened to him, wondering how many times he has tried to explain himself and his beliefs to others too closed minded to see. Sighing as she knew she had to play as the timeline demanded, she asked, "But there are lots of doctors. Millions of them. That was the problem doing an online search, it got too many results."
"Yes," Clive grinned now, a glint in his eye. "That's how to stay hidden in plain sight. Clever, isn't he? Or she."
That made Rose blink. She? "What d'you mean?"
"Well," Clive was just getting warmed up, "to narrow the search down, I started looking for the Doctor, the definite articles, specifically no first name, no last name, just the Doctor. And all evidence seems to suggest that the Doctor must be some sort of title." Rose was listening now, intrigued. "Given to a freedom fighter or covert operative. Granted by the government, or the United Nations, or the Powers that be. Because in times of crisis, there's always a Doctor. Look, here they are, these people would seem to be the most important Doctors of all."
Opening the files on the light table, Rose leaned forward as Clive laid out photo after photo of different people. Some she knew, some she didn't, one by one. "It's hard to work out the right order, but I think this is the Doctor. And this… and this…"
Rose glanced up at him, his eyes seemed a little glazed. He was running away with himself. Looking back at the photos, she reached out and touched his hand. Without a word, she switched two of the photos. Looking at Clive, he stared at her. "Go on," she urged. It wasn't her turn to talk yet.
One of the photos, she stopped at. There was an older man with white hair and a black cape. Her lips curled, even as an older man he was still devastatingly handsome, she thought fondly. What pulled her attention was what was in the photo with her Doctor. It was some sort of metal tank. "What's that thing?"
"A War Machine," Clive answered. Taking a breath to calm himself, he dove back in. Something told him, Rose Tyler would not laugh at him. "Killer tanks built by an evil supercomputer hidden inside the Post Office Tower, which invented the internet. I mean the supercomputer invented it, not the tower. Obviously."
Rose blinked again. Something she did not know and she was so going to lord over Van Statton if she met him again. "Okay… was it alien then?"
It was Clive's turn to blink at her and fumbled, he didn't honestly know the answer to that one. That was a good question, he had to admit. Shaking it off he went back to pointing out the different people he was pretty sure were the Doctor as well. Rose hadn't laughed at him once or even hinting that she thought he was out of his mind. It was liberating. One of the men he pointed to was a little man with a Beatles mop of hair. There was one of a gentleman with a fabulous grey bouffant standing in front of a silver hovercraft. Then the one with the scarf again, making Rose mentally wonder if he still had that thing. The next picture was of an attractive blonde man at Heathrow. Another curly haired man was next, dressed quite fancy making Rose giggle. The next two were the ones she had flipped, one of a Byronic gentleman and one of a shorter man with a funny looking umbrella in World War II. He had them backwards; she was just helping him out.
The next picture, Rose visibly perked up. It was her Doctor! And he was wrestling with a pterodactyl? "Really, Doctor?" she mutters, exasperated under her breath. "Talk about ridiculous."
Looking up, Clive was watching her again. "Sorry, he just looks so stupid there," she apologized. He gave her a narrowed look before pulling out another picture, asking her to hold on a moment. He wanted to show her all the pictures. Turning her attention to the new photos, her breath caught in her throat and tears sprang to her eyes. Tall, great hair and wearing a pinstripe brown suit stared back up at her. There was a second photo of him in a blue suit and Rose has to stop herself from touching the photos. If Clive noticed this, he ignored it and moved on.
"This one looks about your age," he commented and showed her a Doctor with a strong jaw, wearing a tweed suit and a bow tie. She could almost hear her first Doctor ranting about that fashion choice in the back of her mind. The next photo was of an older man, fierce and angry wearing a caretaker's jacket and looking none too thrilled about it. He was rather foxy, Rose admitted to herself. The next photo answered the question of why Clive had said 'she'. It was a blonde woman wearing bracers running away from a giant frog. The picture that followed that one was of a tall, breath taking, Amazon of a woman, ebony skin shining as she wielded a flaming sword. The last photo he had, Rose couldn't tell if it was male or female. The features were very effeminate, and they were sitting in some kind of hi-tech wheelchair. She was almost positive that was an upgraded version of K-9 next to them.
Pulling back, Rose sat on the stool again, considering. "All right," she breathed, pretty sure she wasn't supposed to know about those future incarnations of the Doctor. It was a little painful to admit the Doctor would become a better looking woman that her. That hurts the female ego a bit. "So those are all the Doctor, yeah? But… I am only interested in my Doctor. Ehm, this one." She pointed to the leather jacket wearing one.
"Yes, yes, yes," Clive nodded, scooping up all the photos and placing them back into the file he had them in. He had not missed her reactions to the pictures, the light of recognition to them. "Let's focus on yours. Because now it gets tricky." He tossed her a grin as he turned to open the box labeled '09' again.
"Good," Rose smirked. Clive smiled back at her as he pulled out what he was looking for.
"One theory says that once you've been designated a Doctor, the title can passed down the family line," Clive lectured, setting down the file he pulled from the '09' file.
"Like an inheritance?" Rose asked, that was a thought.
"It's possible," Clive nodded, "because, look, that's your Doctor there, yes?" He pointed the photo of the pterodactyl. "That was taken five years again. And yet, here he is again, the same man, in America." He set out a close up, grainy photo of her Doctor in a crowd. "This photo was taken in 1963. It's been verified by the Washington Archive, November 1963, and that's a fact, and yet he looks the exact same. Must be his dad, you'd think? Your Doctor's father is witnessing history, look!"\
Grinning, Clive showed Rose more photos, but from different views, like the camera was pulling back. As the scene widened, she saw the photo reveal a motorcycle escort, all American. An open top black limo. She didn't have to say it. Her posture said it clearly that she recognized the historical scene captured forever on film.
The Kennedy Assassination.
"And he was there," Clive nodded, answering her unspoken question. "And here, another." He put those photos away and pulled out another one for her to see. He was moving quick, his heart beating hard in his chest, not once had Rose laughed at him or mocked him. "If this is a family line, it goes way, way back. This photograph was taken in 1912. This is the Daniels family, plus friend, about to disembark on the Titanic."
Rose looked over the picture, internally giggling at how uncomfortable the Doctor looked in the photograph. He really hated it when he had to take off his leather armor, she mused, looking back to Clive.
"If it a family line," he noted, "the genes are strong, the Doctor family. Funny thing about this is, this photograph was taken the day before they were due to set sail. But at the last minute, they canceled, and survived. Almost like they knew. Here, have a look at this one."
Clive put the photo away and pulled out a drawing, on old parchment of the Doctor, standing on some beach. He looked more comfortable than he had in the Titanic one, but still uneasy as he gazed at the artist.
"Same lineage. He's identical. And this Doctor here washed up on the shore of Sumatra, the day after Krakatoa exploded." Setting the file down, he looked Rose dead in the eyes now. "D'you see, though? Kennedy, Titanic, Krakatoa. Where disaster comes, he is there. The Doctor is a legend woven throughout history. He brings the storm in his wake, and his has one constant companion."
"Who's that?" Rose narrowed her eyes, knowing what Clive was going to say and hoping it was one of the things that was different.
"Death."
The look in Rose's eyes reminded Clive now of a storm coming in from the sea. Not a storm, he thought, something else. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and forced herself to relax. He found all her reactions cleansing. She knew something, and maybe she would talk to him. But he couldn't afford for her to get angry with him or leave. His instincts screamed at him to keep telling her his tale.
"Okay," Rose finally spoke as Clive began cleaning up the photographs. "What about you then, Clive? I mean, how did you get into all this, in the first place? All this research, it must of taken years."
"All my life," he shrugged.
"So, what started it?" Rose needed to know before she said anything. She could see the two lines dancing around him. One would end shortly, the other would continue on. It was only a flicker, but she knew they were there. It depended on his answer on which she would nudge him to.
"It was my dad," Clive surprised her. "He died when I was two years old."
That was not the answer she expected. "I was six months when I lost mine," Rose offered with a smile. It wasn't the complete truth, but it was unlikely Clive would believe the truth. So she went with the first truth.
"Bet you still think about him."
"Yeah," Rose sighed. "I do."
"Me too," Clive smiled a little. "My old fella was a soldier with the Infantry. He was in the London Regiment. Proper little Cockney by all accounts, Mam said he was always scrapping. Handy with his fist. They said he died on maneuvers. In Shoreditch, of all places. Sounds a bit odd, dying in peacetime on British soil. Accidental discharge of a weapon, they told my mam. And bear in mind this was back in 1963. "
Moving to take a seat himself, he sighed, never really having told anyone other than Caroline this really. "You didn't argue what the establishment said. But not me! I got older, I kept asking questions. Second Lieutenant Gary Jonathan Finch, how did he die?"
Reaching into his back pocket, Clive withdraw a small black and white photo from his wallet and held it out for Rose to see. She took it gently; already able to tell it was a well loved treasure for Clive. It showed her a window to the past, a short stocky man in his early 30s. The same curly hair. "The more I tried to research it, the stranger it seemed. Like something was being hidden. Turns out, Dad's regiment was caught up in some sort of incident. All very hush-hush. The day he died, they'd sealed off the whole of Shoreditch," Clive took the photo back from her and put it back into his wallet. "Officially, they said a cache of unexploded bombs had been discovered. And there were certainly reports of huge explosions, that day. I tracked down the Service Inquiry, in the end, it was buried deep but I found it. It said that Dad had been killed in a junkyard, in a place called Totter's Lane. But how? Information redacted. "Clive paused to snap his fingers. Rose nodded at him, listening carefully.
"No record of the inquest. But I kept on looking, I searched and searched," He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Until I found it. The secret."
"What was it?"
"Are you ready for this?" he had to ask. Rose only nodded at him to continue. For a moment, he had the feeling of being interviewed by one of the agents from the two organizations he learned about. Taking a deep breath, he forged on. "There was something else on the streets that day. Something that had no place in this world."
Standing, Clive moved to the files again and sought out one. Pulling it free, he turned to Rose. The folder was black, within it, his more prized photograph. Rose leaned forward to get a look. Nothing could have prepared either of them for her reaction. As soon as her eyes settled on the thing in the picture, she turned white. A gasp ripped out of her as her hand flew to her mouth and backed up fast, knocking into the stool behind her. Clive stared at her in something akin to horror and fascination. The photo had the image of a tank like creature, but smaller and conical. It was about the height of a man, white and gold in color. The dome top had an odd prong sticking out that looked like an eye stalk or telescope. The middle section had two more, that looked like a whisk and a plunger.
"You," Clive breathed out in a whisper, putting the photograph away. Rose's eyes were glued to it. "You know what it is." It was a statement, not a question.
Rose only nodded once, her eyes closing again as she forced herself to breath. It was a photograph, it wasn't here. She and Clive her safe. Drawing in a ragged breath, she opened her eyes and looked at Clive.
"It's called a Dalek," she admitted in a whisper. "Murdered from beyond nightmares. The inside, worse. They kill anything different, anything not Dalek. And no, there are not of this world or even this solar system, Clive. I'm… I'm so sorry."
The broken sound in her voice, the pale look in her cheeks, the pure anguish in those whiskey tone eyes caused Clive to move around the table and give the younger girl a hug. It was a very paternal hug. For a moment, all he saw was a young woman, haunted by nightmares he could never imagine, hurting. He forgot the discussion, the drive for answers, the Doctor. This was a child who needed comfort.
"You're wrong about one thing," Rose murmured against his shoulder, hugging him back. "The Doctor doesn't bring death. He comes because something else is bringing it in it's wake."
Drawing back, Clive kept his hands on her shoulders to steady her as she looked up at him, eyes burning with a strength he had to admire and even envy a bit.
"The Doctor comes because there is a threat," Rose tried to explain. "He is a healer, someone who loves the Earth, and life. He is a man who is both the damning storm, and gentlest of breezes."
"You know him, then?" Clive asked, wonder in his voice. Rose nodded. A laugh bubbled up in his throat even as tears sprang to his eyes. "I'm right, aren't I? My theory, it-"
"Yes," Rose cut him off. "You're theory is right. They are all the same man. All of them. He has a trick that allows him to change his face. And no, he is not of Earth either. He isn't a God, or a Demon. He is a man, a wonderful, brilliant, fantastic man."
Clive let the tearful laughter escape him, even as it came out like a sob. He was right, he thought. Rose put her hands on his shoulders now, offering him comfort. "The Doctor is making house calls, Clive. And God help us all. But, Clive, I need you to listen to me. Listen now because this is very important."
Lifting his tear streaked face to her, Clive gasped to see Rose's eyes reflecting flecks of gold in them now. "Do not leave your house tonight. Promise me. Go nowhere. Stay home with your family. Do you understand?"
"Why?" Clive heard himself ask.
"Because something is coming. A storm. And blood with rain," Rose answered, her voice full of sorrow. "And I don't want to see you die again."
Looking at the map on the Unit wall, Rose took a breath and revealed herself to a degree. "The Doctor has other companions, Clive. People he travels with. I'm one of those. I have been for a very long time. And you are right also that there are people out there you never want this information to fall into their hands."
"Can I come with you?" Clive rushed out now. "You've met him, seen him. I have wanted to meet him my own life. Please, Rose… let me come too."
Shaking her head, Rose cupped the elder man's cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "Not this time. There will be a chance later. The Doctor needs friends, Clive. Even if he thinks he doesn't. Be that friend, Clive Finch. Be here, on Earth. Keep your mind and ears open. You will see me and the Doctor again."
Nodding, he blew out a breath and stepped away, rubbing the heel of his palm against his eyes. This was not what he thought this meeting would become. Sitting down on the other side of the table, he watched as Rose stood and wrote something down. "Last thing," she grinned a mischievous smile, the tip of her tongue curling up over a tooth. "Call this number. They will pick up 'Grand Central Station'. Tell the people you want to refund your tickets for the Bad Wolf Tour. You want to exchange them for the Captain Cruise instead."
"Why?"
The grin grew bigger, "Protection, information. Talk to the person you will be directed to. Tell them 'the Valiant child referred you'. Got that?"
A short time later found Rose at Toni Jo's Pizzeria with an Auton pretending to be Mickey Smith. Internally she wondered how she missed the signs the first time. It wasn't even all that good of a copy. The skin had a light sheen to it, like he was covered in a layer of sweat. The hair was lighter in color and looked like it was painted on, like one of the Ken dolls she saw other kids playing with when she was a kid. The eyes watched her, unblinking and darker than the real Mickey's eyes were. The smile, creepy at best, showed off perfectly white teeth.
To buy time, Rose rambled on about needing a new job and how she despaired at finding one since everyone else from Hendrik's was also looking for work now too. As a test to see how much the Nestene knew about her, she brought up Jimmy Stone briefly. No reaction. You would think a genius alien being that wanted to fool her would have put a little more in to this. She almost felt insulted at the sheer lack of forethought. Then 'Mickey's eye fell out into his tomato soup with a plop! Rose's gaze flew to his face.
"M-Mickey, are you feeling all right?" Even as she asked she winced at the stupid question. That's two.
"I'm fine, baby, babes, sugababe, babyface, babycakes, baby boomer. Babyboombastic, boom boom bang-a-boom," was the overly cheerful reply.
"Your eye," she muttered, pointing.
"I apologize," Mickey sighed, the creepy smile fading as he reached into the soup and plucked out his eye. He popped the thing into his mouth to clean it up before spatting it back out and putting it back where the eye should be. "This replica was manufactured in haste. Normally the Consciousness would have immaculate standards of duplication." He blinks a few times as the eye corrected itself. The smile never returned to his face as his hand snatched her wrist. "Now, Rose, tell me about the Doctor."
"What?"
"The Doctor, I need to find him," the copy stated plainly, no longer trying to pretend to be Mickey Smith. "I need to know where he is. Who he is. What is his plan. And the only person who can tell me is you! Now tell me. I want to know everything about the Doctor. I know you know. Tell me, or I will kill them."
Rose froze. This was not how it played out last time. "Kill… who?"
"The people. The diners. The humans."
Looking around now, she took note of the other occupants of the pizzeria. A couple on a dating, laughing. A family with two kids in a booth. Two women on a date seated at a nearby table. A gang of teenagers, classmates, hanging out on a Saturday. All these people were in danger now, because of her, unless she could think fast. Looking back at the monstrosity was that sitting there with her best mate's face, her eyes hardened making the Auton tighten its grip on her wrist.
"I can't tell you what I don't know," Rose nearly growled out.
"Excuse me," a waiter walked to the table, "your champagne." He hovered at Mickey's side, offering the bottle.
"We didn't order any champagne," Mickey growled, keeping his eyes on the human woman seated across from him.
The waiter moved to the other side, sliding in closer to Rose than he had Mickey. "Madam, your champagne." Rose could have sobbed in relief at the Northern accent. She didn't take her eyes on Mickey when she spoke, her voice low knowing he would be able to hear her.
"Get the people out," she murmured, ignoring the pain of the tightening grip on her wrist, even as she was fairly sure he just broke something now. "The people are in danger. Don't say anything. Just get them out. Run."
The 'waiter' huffed instead, seemingly ignoring her warming. "Doesn't anyone want this champagne?"
Mickey let out an annoyed sigh and shifted his unblinking gaze from the infuriating female to the equally annoying help staff. "Look, we didn't order-"
He stopped and smiled. Rose closed her eyes for a second. She didn't need to look up to know who it was.
"At last," the Auton grinned.
"Hello!" the Doctor cheerfully greeted as he started shaking up the bottle violently. The smile did not seem to meet his eyes. "Don't mind me. I'm just toasting the lovely couple. On the house!"
With a loud pop, the cork flew from the bottle into the center of Mickey's forehead. Literally. Rose tried to free her wrist from his grip which went impossibly tight for a moment as the Auton worked the cork out of the head and to the mouth before opening his mouth impossibly wide. The cork fell out on to the table. The grin he gave the Doctor was like a man accepting a duel. Mickey sprang to his feet, releasing her, as his hands grew wide and flat. And sharp. It reminded Rose of the blade of one of those German horse-killing swords. Darting from her chair, holding her wrist, Rose stood by the Doctor as the pair watched the copy in both interest and horror.
Doctor's lips pressed in to a thin line, a look Rose knew as him being angry. As Mickey swung one of the blade hands at the Doctor, the Doctor just darted forward. Ducking under the swing, he came up in front of Mickey and wrapped a leather clad arm around his neck. Any other time, the Doctor might have enjoyed this little dance. But he watched the copy squeeze Rose's slim wrist. He moved to try to keep her safe, when he saw the color drain out her face. The noise level of the pizzeria was such that he missed what the dark skinned plastic man had said, but whatever it was, it scared his girl. In his mind, the Doctor could hear the TARDIS, nearly screaming out her fury. How dare he hurt the girl he fought for weeks to get out of his mind!
Getting Mickey into a tight headlock, the Doctor pulled and tugged at the head. It held tight. Mickey tried to get one of his bladed hands at the Doctor's middle, but the Doctor kept moving as he pulled harder. His lips peeled back into a snarl as the plastic man started taunting him.
"What? Mad I hurt your toy?" It taunted with a sneer, making Rose glare as she cradled her wrist to her chest. "Maybe after I kill you, I'll show her the fun of plastic. So versatile. Wonder what sounds she'll make when I start making her bleed."
The Doctor had enough. With one last hard tug, the head popped right off. Stumbling back a few paces, he looked at the head in his hands. It just grinned up at him, "Don't think that'll stop me. Hey! Over here!" Mickey whistled to his body as a man let out a scream.
The body started moving now, swinging wildly. The Doctor looked up just as the fire alarm went off. Rose could be heard shouting over the noise, "OUT! Everyone, out! Now!" Chaos broke out as people screamed and panicked. The headless body chopped through tables, wood flying, destroying glass, sending shards scattering. The staff quickly tried to direct people outside and to safety. However, at her yelling, the headless body turned towards Rose and started forward. The Doctor felt terror climb up his spine as it closed in on her. At the last second, she ducked out of the way, the bladed hands slamming into and through the pillar she had just been standing in front of, plaster peppering her hair and the floor as she moved past.
"Rose!" He shouted for her, frantic for the second he lost sight of her. "Over here!"
He felt like he could breathe again when she popped up in his sight, cradling her wrist to her breasts as she yelled at him, "Go, go!" then she was running with him through the back door to the kitchen. Rose kept up yelling for people to run, to get out as the headless murderous body stumbled after them, still swinging wildly, uncaring who or what it hit. The head on the other hand was yelling for its body, or barking like a rabid dog at the two as they made a mad dash for safety.
"By the way," the Doctor offered a grin over his shoulder as they ran into the back hall that would empty out to the alley behind the shop, "nice to see you again. How's your mum then?"
Rose could have laughed at him right then if she didn't heard the body coming up the hall as they passed the fire door into the alley. "Oh you," she breathed out, catching her breath. "Same same. Still mad about her coffee table."
The Doctor smiled a manic grin as he threw his shoulder against the fire door, trying to keep it closed as he fished out his screwdriver. She was witty, he had to give her that. And brave, he seem to preen as Rose ran back to him and braced her back against the door, even as the murderous body rammed into it from inside. The pair grunted as the Doctor worked to active the lock, the head laughing at them before the Doctor curled the arm holding it so it was face first into leather. There was a muffled growl and likely some very unkind words muttered. The click of the lock made the pair sigh in relief for the second before the sound of heavy blades battering against the heavy door could be heard.
Rose didn't even think, she turned and looked around the alley. A groan slipped from her as she remembered suddenly it wasn't an alley per say as more a courtyard. Tall fences on all sides that wasn't building, barbed wire on the tops. Figures, she thought disgusted. The Doctor moved to her, his free hand gently taking her arm from where it was crossed over her chest. He frowned at how practiced the move had been for her. She didn't hesitate for a second to do what he would have told her to do to protect her injury. Looking into her eyes, he searched for signs she was in pain or distress. She looked back into his icy blue eyes, looking for something as well. The sound of wood breaking made the two turn as a bladed hand broke through the fire door.
"We should go," Rose breathed, looking back at him. She looked like she was waiting for directions, he thought. With a nod, she turned and led her to the TARDIS as it sat in the yard. It was all happening so fast, that he didn't think of anything else. Only that she was hurt, he could heal her and protect her within the walls of his frankly magnificent space and time ship. The humming of the TARDIS confirmed she had already made the adjustments to assist their guest. Worry colored his thoughts, the old girl was worried about the human too. 'I know,' he sent back, glancing back at Rose as he opened the doors and brought her inside. 'Me too, old girl.'
"Careful," he warned with a cheeky, smug grin. "It's a bit of a culture shock in here."
Rose rolled her eyes, Sexy was laughing as well in her mind as they stepped through the doors. She got a quick reminder to humor the male when she came in. 'Oh, fun. I get to act like a dumb blonde again,' Rose thought with a groan, which only made the TARDIS chuckle more.
The Doctor made Rose go first, so he could stop her from running back out. She was already hurt, he was not about to let the Auton take another shot at her. Stepping him behind her, he waited, leaning against the doors. The human stared up at the massive dome ceiling, to the coral like struts that acted as support pillars, down to the metal grating that made up the walk ways of the main room. He couldn't stop the grin that finally hit his eyes as he watched her take a tiny step forward. Her gaze moved to the three arched that lead off into the depths of his beautiful ship before she shifted and looked down. She looked like she was trembling and ready to bolt. Carefully, the Doctor put a hand on her shoulder, "You okay?"
"Yeah," she answered quickly, he could feel her trembles. "It's… bigger on the inside."
"Yes it is," he grinned as he patted her shoulder and moved pass her to the center consol. He kept his attention on what he was doing, hooking the glaring head up to the consol. It growled at him, making him arch a brow in amusement. A head was really not all that scary.
"Is it alien?" Rose asked behind him. He felt the TARDIS' amusement at the human's words making him chuckle as he turned.
"Yes it is."
"Are you alien?"
"Yeah," his smile faded as he studied her. "Is that okay?" He had spent weeks thinking about her, trying to not. And here she was in front of him. His twin hearts clenched as he waited for her answer.
Warm, whiskey colored eyes lifted to meet his icy blue ones. "Yeah," she breathed out and he felt his hearts beat again.
"So, where do you want to start?" Another manic grin lit up his face. She didn't look like she was going to bolt or faint, so that was a plus.
Pointing back at the door, Rose whimpered a little much to the TARDIS' eternal amusement. "What about that thing out there?"
"The assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't get through that door. And believe me, they tried," the Doctor replied, smug. "Bet you have a lot of questions."
"Not really," the voice of Mickey broke the pair apart. The two turned to look at it as it grinned. "Seen all this before. Seen better than this! You lot brought a war crashing down on our civilization, d'you think we don't remember?" Mickey sneered at the Doctor.
The Doctor seemed to lose stream, his shoulders slump a little as he muttered a quick sorry. He leapt back up the ramp to the consol and stabbed a few buttons before pulling a big red lever. "Hold on a tic, we don't need laughing boy."
"Oh, I'm gonna do more than-"The words were cut off as the head froze, becoming inanimate.
"Now then," the Doctor stated, stepping away from the consol, crossing his arms over his chest. "Where were we?"
"I'm in an alien ship?" Rose asked, fighting between tears of pain and a smirk. It was like a fine dance between them, the Doctor and her.
"It's called the TARDIS," he clarified. "This thing," and they both felt the indignation of the old girl at being called a 'thing'. "T.A.R.D.I.S. It stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space."
The pain was so great now that Rose burst into tears, hugging her wrist to her chest again. In seconds, the Doctor was at her side. Normally he would have teased her about culture shock and all that, but he could see she was in pain. Shaking her head, Rose muttered at his "Sorry, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he murmured, again taking her hand gently to look at her wrist. It needed a brace. Glancing back at the head, then to the girl, he struggled with figuring out which order things needed to happen in.
"Doctor," Rose murmured, looking into his eyes again. "The head… it's melting."