Rebecca Clark

Nicked from amberfocus

Sun, 17 May 2009 11:35:21 GMT

Your result for The Commonly Confused Words Test ...

English Genius

You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 100% Advanced, and 93% Expert!

You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!

Meme thingy

Thu, 08 Jan 2009 01:56:00 GMT

Tagged by amberfocus

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 16 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 16 people to be tagged.

I don't actually *have* 16 people on my flist. Um...consider yourself tagged if you haven't already done this?

1. I have recently discovered a love of roleplaying, particularly LARP.
2. I can sew quite well, despite being inexperienced.
3. I have the cooking equivalent of "green fingers"
4. I have recently shocked most of my old friends by dating a man ten years older than I am.
5. I really want a PhD in physics, but don't know what branch yet
6. I read www.xkcd.com. So should you.
7. If I ever have a daughter, I'll name her Cecily Rose, after my grandmothers.
8. If I had been born a boy, I would be called Alexander Michael. Instead, I'm named Rebecca Ann after my mother's brother.
9. I have a weird sleep cycle. I drift until I hit 3-4AM to 11 AM, then stick there until I have to get up.
10. I like to snuggle, but only with people I'm very close to.
11. If you ever meet me, you'll discover that I make the most *terrible* puns.
12. I would like to be a better person, but I don't know how to be.
13. I have very firm opinions on wardrobe solutions. Preferably, blouses and jeans or skirts.
14. I have an American passport, despite having lived all my life in England.
15. I have visited Israel, France and the US, but never Wales.
16. I am not dyslexic, and am quite proud of this fact. Instead, I can get through an average-sized novel in two to four hours.

Let's see what happens, shall we?

Sun, 16 Nov 2008 16:13:37 GMT

Not posted one of these here before, but what the hell? It puts off that "work" thing I'm supposed to be doing.

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
- Rebecca (everywhere)
- Liz (RL, not the internet)
- Eleanor Rose (the internet, not RL)

THREE THINGS YOU'VE DONE IN THE LAST 33 MINUTES:
- Gone for a walk
- Some maths
- This

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
- My hair (when it's behaving)
- My sense of humour.
- My ability to read really fast

THREE THINGS YOU DISLIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
- My figure (it needs improving)
- I tend towards hypocrisy and double standards
- I'm always getting ill

THREE THINGS YOU'RE AFRAID OF:
- Disappointing my friends/family
- Failing my degree
- That I'm going to come too far out of my shell and everyone's going to start thinking I'm weird and hating me like they did when I was little (this being the reason I went into the aforementioned shell).

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
- Stripy sweater
- Jeans
- Socks

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
- Glasses
- Keys/Swipecard
- Food

THREE IMPORTANT OBJECTS:
- Computer
- My violin
- Glasses. Can't live without 'em.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS/ARTISTS:
- Tom Lehrer
- The Beatles
- James Blunt

THREE WAYS TO BE HAPPY:
- To be in a loving relationship (of any kind)
- Succeeding after hard work
- Getting all the little things just so.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
- "How to save a Life" (The Fray, I think)
- The Chemical Elements (Tom Lehrer)
- The last movement of Sibelius 2

THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
- Get a job
- Be the person I want to be (reliable, responsible etc.) without parental nagging.
- Maintain a real relationship with my (new) BF.

THREE THINGS YOU REGRET:
- My actions of June 24th 2005.
- The times I've hurt people through carelessness.
- Not working hard enough to get really good grades.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
- Laughter, fun and frolic. I'm young, and I want to be happy.
- Enough time together, enough time apart.
- I want us both to have enough confidence to ask for what we want, and talk about potentially awkward things.

THREE IMPORTANT THINGS YOU'RE GIVING TO THE WORLD:
- Help with a new fertility aid (I helped with my parents' business over the summer).
- Happiness to those who know me, I hope.
- Maybe, someday, some great discovery.

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (in order):
I think Christopher Eccleston is sexier than David Tennant, I'm dating a man ten years older than me and it's sunny outside.

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX:
- Height. Six feet or so is ideal, taller than me is essential.
- Well-built. Strength is good.
- Good dress sense..

THREE EMOTIONAL THINGS YOU LIKE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX:
- Intelligence. I couldn't bear to marry a stupid man.
- A sense of humour.
- The right balance of gentle and assertive.

THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO:
- Compose music.
- Turn cartwheels.
- Maintain a sensible sleep cycle.

THREE THINGS YOU MISS FROM YOUR PAST:
- The innocence of childhood.
- Being able to get good grades just because I was clever.
- Grandma and Great-Grandma.

THREE GIFTS YOU WOULD LIKE TO RECEIVE:
- A Waterman pen
- A LARP sword
- Perfect happiness

THREE REASONS WHY YOU ARE WHO YOU ARE:
- My genetics
- My upbringing
- My present environment.

(I'm a scientist, what else were you expecting?)

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:
- Playing (or singing) in ensembles
- Reading
- Roleplay (LARP or Unknown Armies, for preference)

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
- Get well from my cold.
- Have my BF all to myself for a while...:P
- Get my work finished.

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
- "High School" physics teacher
- Engineering consultant
- Research physicist

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO FOR HOLIDAY:
- America (see my cousins!)
- New Zealand
- Israel

THREE CARTOON CHARACTERS:
- The PowerPuff Girls
- Lisa (The Simpsons)
- Roger Rabbit's girlfriend.

THREE BOY'S NAMES:
- David
- Alexander
- Michael

THREE GIRL'S NAMES:
- Eleanor
- Cecilia
- Elisabeth

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
- Fly an aeroplane or glider
- Visit New Zealand/Australia
-Have a happy life.

Fic for amberfocus

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 10:41:47 GMT

She requested Nine-Rose smut, preferably up against a wall.

The Doctor backed Rose against a wall. “Now.” he growled. He reached down, found she was knickerless. He growled again.

Rose smiled. Her hands seemed to move through his jeans, but he could feel the breeze on his hardness. “Commando. I like it.”

He thrust into her, hard. This was a union born of white-hot lust, all but untouched by any gentler feeling. Soon, Rose bit into his shoulder to stifle a cry when his orgasm triggered hers. After a moment, infinitely gently, she kissed the toothmarks. “I love you.” He held her, tight.

“I love you too, Rose.”

Feature-Length Screenplay, Scene 1 submision.

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 16:51:27 GMT

SCENE 1

EXT. HOUSE, LATE AFTERNOON.

Screen is black, as we hear a terrific BANG.As the scene fades in, we see GERALD from behind, running across his front lawn. CHARITY is standing outside her car, and a prone body in the road - GERALD's WIFE.

CHARITY

She just ran straight out in front of me, she...

She sees GERALD, gets back into her car and drives away, tyres screaming. GERALD runs over to his WIFE, kneels beside her and discovers she is dead. Shaking, he pulls out his cellphone.

GERALD

911? ...

FADE OUT as SCENE ENDS.

Writer's Block: Rosh Hashanah

Mon, 29 Sep 2008 11:12:07 GMT

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, begins today. How are you celebrating? If you're not, how do you plan on guiding your fate over the course of the next year?

View 384 Answers

Honeycake and synagogue. (And two new blouses). How were you going to celebrate it, a sacrifice to Imhotep?

Curse bubbles_san and her plotbunnies

Sun, 21 Sep 2008 20:23:43 GMT

For some weird Star Trek (Original Series) fic, just...

He had just heard the computer voice-print of the new starship class. Starfleet liked to have their longest-serving Vulcan officer look things over, as he provided a perspective they didn't have, and he enjoyed the straightforward science of it, the return to his first speciality. He found himself disturbed, as he couldn't help but be reminded of Nurse Chapel. He'd have to run a more precise analysis later, but he estimated a ninety-eight percent probability of its being a perfect match. Strange, but coincidence could not be ruled out in a vast universe. He moved on to test the interface, his serene mask unruffled.

He knew that he would have to resign from Starfleet. That the computer spoke with the voice of an old colleague who'd once had a crush on him would not, of course, be the given reason - the deaths and retirements amongst his original shipmates would serve adequately, with the advantage of being partially true. Ambassadorial duties were also taking increasing amounts of his time.

Of course, this necessitated starship travel, but as a civilian with his own ship he could upgrade the warp-core and keep the present computer interface. Eccentric, but acceptable in one of the galaxy's more able ambassadors. His father would naturally understand. His mother might even have been pleased. It was far from a new thought, but... they burned so brightly, these humans. So fiercely, and yet their candles were so brief. No, he would have to resign. It was inappropriate for him to be constantly exposed to a computerised voice that left him strangely... wistful.

There. I don't think it really needs further expansion, but expanded, polished and posted. And hopefully in-character.

Star Trek baby picspam.

Sat, 20 Sep 2008 20:49:10 GMT

(the Mew is Spock's, he is legend :P)

Counting down, bleeding through

Fri, 05 Sep 2008 23:35:39 GMT

A bit of SG-1 fic for a change. What made President Hayes change his mind at the last minute? (With a bonus bit of Jack-angst and Doctor Who quotage).

They were right. That was Colonel Jack O'Neill's first thought on seeing the odd, tetrahedral ships in the sky. Al'kesh. Now, where had that come from? Ten long, hard years of fighting the bastards, that's where. What? No, it couldn't be. He must have remembered it from those weirdos' reports, that's all. Probably Carter's. I always did pay more attention to her than any of the others, especially Mitchell. But this just wasn't possible. How could he be remembering what could only be the him from the other timeline? It hadn't happened. All of them agreed on that. But those ships - those Al'kesh - were in the sky. The aliens - Goa'uld - were here. In his life. Both his lives. Maybe that led to the old timeline bleeding through a little, who knew? Carter was always better at that kind of stuff than I was. There it was again.

Eleven years ago, your son Charlie accidentally shot himself with your gun. That was his memory. From his life. It's what that Daniel guy had said to him back on the sub; that was when he'd known that they were nuts, or at the very least big trouble. Eleven years ago, your son Charlie accidentally shot himself with your gun. It wasn't real. It hadn't happened to him. But the timelines were bleeding through. Eleven years ago, your son Charlie accidentally shot himself with your gun. He'd spent most of the last year trying to put those words out of his mind.

BANG! BANG! The gunshots rang out from his bedroom, filling him with an eerie sense of deja vu. He sprinted desperately up the stairs, frantically dialling 911 on his cell phone over and over again, until he reached his son's prone body. It was too late, he knew. He looked over the boy's (and didn't he look young, now? Barely eight years old, even though he was nineteen) cooling corpse at his wife, and knew. He knew that their marriage was over. That though she might one day forgive him for this, she'd never be able to forget. And though he'd never forgive himself, sometimes he'd forget. Sometimes.

Put it back. He cried, silently. I take it all back. Eleven years and I'll have found a way to live with this! Please, Sam, Daniel, Cam, just put it back to the way it was.

*****

Major General George Hammond sat in an underground bunker, and worried. He trusted the three displaced veterans, SG-1, his mind supplied, to solve this mess somehow. But why? Two days ago, he wouldn't have (hadn't) dared put them anywhere near their fields of expertise, for fear that they'd try to resurrect their timeline somehow. Now, he trusted them with six and a half billion lives. More than that. More? I trust them with every life in the galaxy. Hell, I have trusted them with it, more than once! No, he hadn't. He hadn't. But as the strangely-armoured men - Jaffa - marched down the hallway, he found himself countermanding his own orders. Things were better the way they were. We should have believed them. There's no hope for us now, not even SG-1 can save the world with no back-up. He picked up the phone, and met his chief's eyes. "Tell them to do whatever they have to do."

*****

Henry Hayes was a religious man. That said, he found himself with some decidedly un-Christian feelings when speaking to this Ba'al fellow on the phone. And if this was the first time anything even remotely like this had ever happened, and it was, why did remember doing something distinctly similar in the Oval Office? That was Anubis, though. Anubis? What on Earth? Or what off it, he supposed. It had, after all, been a hologram. What? Where was this coming from? And why was he feeling so uneasy about the orders he'd given to the trio he'd sent out to fix this? SG-1. It wasn't the fact that he'd sent a one-legged man to save the world with a kettle and some string, either. It's the fact that you distinctly ordered them to leave things the way they are. Wrong. How could this be happening? He struggled with himself. As he received the report that the enemy's soldiers (Jaffa) had broken through to his level, George picked up the phone. He should be retired by now. Retired and playing with his grandchildren. He met his old friend's eyes. He'd know what to do.

So, you liked? Hated? Please, review. It's rare the fic-bug bites at midnight, I'd like to see what y'all thought.

New Earth (Nine redux)

Fri, 05 Sep 2008 20:18:58 GMT

Part of the Nine Redux series. As in The Christmas Invasion, all outside events occur exaccly as they did in the original episode unless stated otherwise. Doesn't belong to me, I would add. Belongs to the BBC. Same goes for everything else in this series.

Back aboard the TARDIS after Christmas dinner (after a quick stop in the January sales, since Jack had wanted to replace the clothes he'd lost on the Gamestation and Rose was never averse to a bit of shopping) Rose and Jack dragged the Doctor into the kitchen.

"Right. We want to ask you some questions." Rose told the Doctor.

"Don't know what you mean!" he protested, with an air of faux innocence which fooled nobody.

"You know exactly what we mean." Jack said. "I was shot by a Dalek, Doctor. I was dead. Then I woke up, and that's not supposed to happen."

"And I've got an important chunk of my memory missing coupled with minor brain damage, and you seem to know what happened. And you were dying, and you won't say why." Rose added.

"Okay." the Doctor capitulated. "Fine. I'll start with Rose, Jack, since what happened to you - and to me, for that matter - depends on it. Rose, you remember being at home?"

"Yeah, course. Won't be forgetting that little trick soon, let me tell ya."

"I'm not going to apologise, it kept you alive. Anyway," he added, seeing her about to protest "You were sent home, then what did you do? Don't know all the facts meself."

"Well, I was bloody miserable for about half a day, then I thought about Margaret Blane, the Slitheen. She looked into the heart of the TARDIS, right? So I thought, if I could do that, I could make the TARDIS understand me, and I'd fly it back and save you. Somehow. Then I got Mum and Mickey to help out getting the console open, then I looked under the panel I pulled up and..."

"And what?" the Doctor seemed anxious.

"And then... I don't know. Just... vagueness, and singing. The most beautiful singing you've ever heard, and everything was red and orange or silver and gold. And then I woke up on the floor in there." She pointed to the console room.

"Right. Thanks, Rose, that explains how you did it. As for what you did, you absorbed the Time Vortex. Not a terribly clever thing to do, but there we are. You had ultimate power over everything, everywhere and nearly everywhen. You flew the TARDIS back to the Gamestation, turned all the Daleks to dust and resurrected Jack. See? I told you I'd get to it." he added in an aside. "But, that's too much power for a living body to hold. Even TARDISes are specially designed with non-living components to prevent them from fully accessing that power and killing themselves. And you couldn't let go of it, either. So I pulled it out of you, but then I was holding it. I just shot it straight back into the TARDIS, but that was still long enough to do some fairly hefty damage, nearly had to regenerate. There you have it."

"Regenerate?" Rose asked.

"Change. If I'm dying, I can change every cell in my body, make them new so I'm better. It's not perfect, beheading's still permanent, but it's good for most things. What it does mean is that I end up looking completely different, and some of my personality changes. I'm still the same man with the same memories, but the little things are different. One time, I had an unholy attachment to celery."

"I ... see. And when were you going to tell us about this?"

"When it came up. Besides, Jack already knew. It's in the legends he's heard cos my people used to have a fair bit to do with the Time Agency."

The three of them sat for a while, lost in their separate thoughts. Then the Doctor startled. "What's this?" he wondered aloud, pulling out his psychic paper. "Hey, you two, look at this. I've got a message." When Jack looked at it, the paper flashed Ward 26, then Please come and a series of numbers.

"Are those coordinates in there?"

"Yep. For the year five billion and twenty-five, oddly enough. Come on, off we go." When they reached the console room, the Doctor added "Hey, Rose. D'you want to learn to fly the TARDIS? Save you having to kill yourself if we get separated again"

"God, yes! Where do I stand, Doctor?" She was grinning broadly.

"Right..." he put his hands on her shoulders and put her where he wanted her, then stood close behind. "Here. Now, to set the time you want..."

*****

Stepping out of the TARDIS, Jack gave a convulsive shiver.

"What's wrong?" Rose asked him.

"I'm here already. First thing we learn in the Time Agency is how to sense ourselves. Helps avoid paradoxes." Rose blushed at this.

"Can you sense proximity, Jack?" asked the Doctor, concerned.

"Yeah, pretty well actually. I can't put a number on it, but I'll know if I'm within say ten meters of myself."

"Good. Keep an eye on that, would you?"

"Sure. I'll let you know if I'm feeling a bit too close."

"Thanks, Jack."

"Where are we?" asked Rose.

"New Earth." answered the Doctor. "Remember the year five billion, the sun expanded and the Earth got destroyed?"

"Yeah." Rose smiled. "Our first date." she explained to Jack.

The Doctor smiled back. "Well, after that happened there was a big nostalgia movement amongst the Earth-born races. This island is New New York, over on one of the other continents there's a whole load of subsidiary forests."

"Forests?"

"For the tree-people. Most of them came from Earth trees, I don't know why. Might be something to do with the pollution and the genetic experiments of the 5150s. Now, ward twenty-six means a hospital, and so does a green crescent moon, so I would suggest we go," He pointed, "That way."

*****

"Human." says an Irish accent. "They're both pure blood human." The accent belongs to a thin, white face with black markings on it.

"I think I recognise them. Move closer!" says another voice. The red screen does indeed move closer to the trio it contains. "I want to see their faces! Closer!" The screen shifts around. Its source is a small, four-legged metal spider which is trying to stay out of sight. Eventually, it succeeds in moving around them and capturing their faces. "I knew it! The Doctor and Rose Tyler. Those assasains!" the voice continues. "Follow them..."

*****

"This hospital is owned and run entirely by the Sisters of Plenitude. Please give generously." Jack read. "A charity hospital!" He said happily.

"There's no shop." complained the Doctor. "Hospitals give me the creeps anyway, but not to have a shop? Where are we gonna buy grapes?"

"Doctor, this is eighty years after the great vine blight. The samples they got from Earth thirty years ago haven't produced anything edible yet, and they won't for at least another decade."

"I know that, Jack. It's the principle of the thing."

"Lifts are over here!" Rose broke in.

"Go on in, then. Ward twenty-six, voice control. And watch out for the disinfectant!" the Doctor advised. He and Jack caught the next-door lift, but when they got out, the corridor was empty.

"Where is she? She should have arrived before us."

"Well, it's one ward per floor, or there'd be signs. If she's not on the ward, we'll know she's missing."

"Good plan - oh!"

"What is it, Jack?"

"It's too close. I must be on the ward somewhere. I'm gonna go look for Rose, I've got a bad feeling about this. Thirty-five seconds isn't long enough to get out of this corridor, and that's about how far behind we should be."

"You're right. Tell you what, you wait here, and if she's in there, I'll shout."

*****

Meanwhile, Rose had left the lift and entered a half-ruined corridor. She saw a pale-faced man in the distance. "I'm looking for ward twenty-six." she said, unnerved.

"This way, Rose Tyler." the man replied, in a soft and seemingly Irish accent.

Thoroughly spooked, she picked up a metal bar before following the man into a room. There was an old-fashioned projector there, showing a film of a woman at a party. Something about the scene was naggingly familiar. "Wait a minute!" Rose said, thinking. "That's..."

"Peekaboo!" Cassandra calls.

Rose held out the metal pole in her right hand. "Don't you come anywhere near me, Cassandra!" she warned.

"Why?" Cassandra asked bitterly. "What d'you think I'm going to do, flap you to death?"

"Yeah, but what about Gollum?"

"Oh, that's just Chip. He's my pet."

"I worship the mistress!" Chip added, fiercely.

"Moisturise me, moisturise me!" as Chip started spraying, she continued "He's not even a proper life-form. He's a force-grown clone, I modeled him on my favourite pattern. But he's so faithful. Chip sees to my physical needs."

"Hoping that means food!" Rose said edgily."How comes you're still alive?"

"After you murdered me?"

Rose advanced, rod held before her like a sceptre. "That was your own fault." She lowered it again.

"The brain of my mistress survived, and her pretty blue eyes were salvaged from the bin."

"But what about the skin? I saw it burst."

"That piece of skin was taken from the front of my body. This piece is the back."

"Right," Rose was grinning now. "This means you're taking out your -"

"Ask not!"

"The mistress was lucky to survive! Chip secreted milady into the hospital."

"So they don't know you're here."

"Chip steals medicine. Helps milady. Sooths her. Strokes her -"

"You can stop right there, Chip." Whether Rose was speaking kindly or dangerously was hard to say.

"Oh, but I'm so alone, hidden down here. The last human in existance."

"Don't start that again, they've called this planet New Earth!"

"A vegetable patch!" contempt was thick in Cassandra's voice.

"And there's millions of humans out there. Millions of them!"

"Mutant stock."

"They evolved, Cassandra. They just evolved, like they should. You stayed still, got yourself all pickled and preserved, and what good did it do you?"

Cassandra looked at the projection on the wall. "Oh, I remember that night. Drinks for the Ambassador of Thrace. That was the last time anyone told me I was beautiful. After that it all became such hard work." her voice hardened.

"Well you've got a knack for survival, I'll give you that."

"But I've not been idle, Rose. Tucked away, underneath this hospital, I've been listening. The Sisters are hiding something."

"What d'you mean?"

"These cats have secrets! Hush! Let me whisper, come close."

"Not on your life!" answered Rose, backing away. Suddenly, bright lights lanced out of the wall, holding her firmly. "Let me go! Let me go, Cassandra!"

"Chip! Activate the psychograft!"

A cage of blue light descended from the ceiling. "What're you doing?" cried Rose, on a note of panic.

"I'm moving on. It's goodbye, trampoline and hello -" A pink mist moved out of the skin-stand and into Rose, who promptly collapsed. Chip moved to stand over her.

"Mistress?"

"Moisturise me." He turned, and scurried away. "Rose" sat up, looked down at herself. "Arms. Arms! Fingers! Hair! Oh, let me see, let me see!" she ran to a mirror. "Oh, my God. I'm a chav!" "Rose's" voice had changed, lost all trace of its estuary accent.

*****

"Hello, is this Reception?" Jack was wearing his best smile. The "I'm-so-pretty-you'll-do-just-what-I-want-because-I'm-so-nice" special. The feline female he was smiling at did not disappoint.

"Hello, there." she purred. "This is Reception. how may I help?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine, Rose Tyler. She's a human, about so high, blonde hair, dark eyes and eyebrows. Probably quite distinctively dressed."

The nurse's tone cooled somewhat. "Were you together?"

"We traveled here together, yeah, but we're not together." He deliberately stopped himself flirting. "We were both visiting Ward twenty-six, but she caught a different elevator and she'd vanished by the time I arrived. It's our first visit here, so she might have gotten lost; could you page her please?"

"Certainly, sir." Her tone had warmed again. "And your name?"

"Cap'n Jack Harkness, pleased to meet you ma'am."

There was an announcement over the intercom. Would a Miss Rose Tyler please come down to Reception. Would Miss Rose Tyler please come down to Reception, Captain Jack Harkness wishes to meet her.

"You're an angel, that should be just the ticket."

*****

The Doctor wandered back into Ward twenty-six, where he was met by a veiled nurse. He passed a couple of patients, thinking that they seemed in remarkably good shape for the diseases they seemed to have, when he came upon a staggeringly obese man with a very grey cast to him, who seemed to grate when he moved.

"Excuse me!" a severe-looking woman in a business suit admonished him. "Members of the public may only gaze on the Duke of Manhattan with written permission from the senate of New New York."

"That man's got petrifold regression."

"I'm dying, sir. A lifetime of charity and abstinence, and it ends like this."

"Any statements made by the Duke of Manhattan may not be made public without official clearance."

The Duke called out incoherently, and the woman rushed over and clasped his hand. "I'm so weak!" he said.

"Sister Jatt. A little privacy, please!" the sharp-tongued woman snapped, sounding on the verge of tears. The nurse nodded, and drew the Doctor away, closing the curtain.

"He'll be up and about in no time." she said briskly.

"Will he, indeed?"

"Have faith in the Sisterhood. But is there no-one here you recognise? It's rather unusual to visit without knowing the patient."

"I think I've found him, thanks." the Doctor smiled, and walked over to the tank containing the Face of Boe.

"Novice Hame," Sister Jatt addressed the nurse beside the tank. "I leave this man in your care." She nodded, and left the ward.

"I'm afraid the Face of Boe is asleep," Novice Hame said in a soft, sad voice. "It's all he tends to do, these days. Are you a friend?"

"I'm not, no. We only met the once, big shindig twenty-five years back. He asked me to come, though, so I'm here. What's wrong with him?"

"I'm so sorry, I thought you knew. The Face of Boe is dying."

"Of what?"

"Old age. The one thing we can't cure. He's thousands of years old. Some people say millions, although that's impossible."

"Oh, I dunno. Funny old universe, this." the Doctor crouched down. "I'm here." He placed a hand flat on the tank, in front of the Face's cheekbone. It shifted, but didn't stir.

*****

Would a Miss Rose Tyler please come down to Reception. Would Miss Rose Tyler please come down to Reception, Captain Jack Harkness wishes to meet her. Cassandra startled. "Oh, heavens! Quick, Chip. How does she speak?"

"Old Earth cockney, milady."

"Right. My perfume?" Chip handed it to her, and Cassandra tucked it between her breasts then hurried off.

"Rose, thank goodness! Where were you, we were worried!" Jack beamed at her.

"Oh, hello!" Cassandra murmured. "Got a bit lost, guv'nor. Went the wrong way on the old apples and pairs!"

Jack's beam dropped away, but he merely said "Let's go find the Doctor, he should still be where I left him." They proceeded through the disinfection and into the ward, where the Doctor was handing Novice Hame a cup of something. "Best to wait here, I don't - ah - I don't want to interrupt."

"That's very kind, but there's no need." Hame told the Doctor.

"Well, you're the one who's working."

"There's not much to do, just maintain his smoke. And I suppose I'm company. I can hear him singing, sometimes, in my mind. Such ancient songs."

"Am I the only one who's visited?"

"The rest of boekind became extinct long ago, he's the only one left. Legend says that the Face of Boe has watched the universe grow old, there's all sorts of superstitions around him. One story says that just before his death, he'll impart his great secret. That he'll speak those words only to one like himself."

"Oh, yeah? What do they mean by that?"

"Well, it's just a story."

"What's the rest?" the Doctor's face had softened, looking almost wistful.

"It's said he'll talk to a wanderer, to the man without a home. The lonely god."

The Doctor said "I wonder what it means..." somewhat unconvincingly, smiled at Novice Hame and wandered over to the window, then spied Jack and "Rose" at the ward entrance, and moved to meet them. He was waylaid by the Duke of Manhattan:

"It's that man again! He's my good-luck charm!" He was looking slightly ruddy, and not at all rocky.

"Any friendship expressed by the Duke of Manhattan does not constitute a form of legal contract." the woman, who seemed to be a walking disclaimer, whispered with a smile.

The Duke pressed a remote, and was winched to a sitting position. "It's a miracle! There's no sign of infection anywhere! Champagne, sir?"

"No, thanks. Friends to meet." the Doctor replied. "How's it done?" he asked the air.

"Primitive species," answered one of the sisters, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere, "Would accuse us of magic, but it's merely the tender application of science."

"What science?"

"Oh, it's nothing special, just applied biochemistry, really."

"But what biochemistry?"

"A simple home remedy."

"Then why won't you tell me what it is?"

"I'm sorry, patient confidentiality." her tone hardened. "I don't believe we've met, I'm Matron Casp."

"Hello, I'm the Doctor."

"I think you'll find we are the doctors here."

"Matron Casp, you're needed in intensive care." said another sister.

Casp and the Doctor bowed slightly to one another, then she and the other sister walked away, murmuring quietly. He, meanwhile, continued on to meet up with Rose and Jack.

"You alright to be here?" he asked the other man.

"Yeah. I'm nearby, but not conscious. What's up?" His eyes flicked to the woman beside him and back as if to say What's up with her?

"Well, I don't know." the Doctor answered, flickering his eyes also. "But there's definitely something funny going on around here. Can we find a terminal? I'd like to look up some more medical histories." The trio started walking. "There're people on that ward who should be dead, dying or very ill indeed and there's not a scratch on any of 'em. The Face of Boe excepted (he's the one who called me), average recovery time is two days, and not one treatment takes more than two weeks."

Jack had led them to a terminal, and the Doctor started poking around with his sonic screwdriver. "Wait a minute!" said Cassandra. "Go back to that list of departments. There. There's no intensive care. Every department in the hospital except intensive care."

"Oh, good work, Rose!" the Doctor enthused. "You're quite right, but not only that, I know that there is an intensive care because I was talking to a Matron and she got called there."

"So where is it?" asked Jack.

"Good question."

"Try the installation protocols." Cassandra suggested.

"There! That's -" the Doctor's satisfaction was cut off as the wall in front of them decended. "Done it." he finished lamely. "Come on!"

They raced into the newly opened corridor, stopping when they reached a vast chamber filled with green pods. "What's inside?" Jack asked. The Doctor zapped the nearest pod with his screwdriver, and with an unpleasant beeping the door opened. There was a person inside it. He had grey skin, scaly in places and lank greasy hair but for all that he was clearly human. "Oh, my God!" Jack exclamed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." said the Doctor, with an agonised expression.

"What's wrong with him?" Cassandra asked.

"Everything. He's got every disease in the whole galaxy."

"Are we safe?" Cassandra worried, taking a step back.

"The air's sterile, just don't touch him. I think we've seen all we need to here." He shut the door again, then swung round and paced to the edge of the walkway, where he gripped the handrail tightly and stared out, wild-eyed.

"How many patients are there in here?" Jack asked.

"They aren't patients." the Doctor's face was set, now.

"But they're sick!"

"They were born sick. They exist to be sick! This whole room's just one giant germ lab. It's no wonder they've got a cure for everything." He spun, to face the approaching Novice Hame.

"Did you know about this?" He held out a hand to stop Jack.

"It's for the greater good! The Sisterhood has sworn to help."

"By doing this? How are you helping these people, then?" Rage was blossoming in the Doctor's voice.

"They're not real people. They've been specially grown. They have no proper existance!"

"How many do you use? A hundred a day? A thousand? Tell me, Novice Hame, how many people?"

"Mankind needed us." She was almost in tears. "They came to this planet with so many illnesses! We couldn't cope! We did try. We tried everything, clone meat and bio-cattle, but the results were too slow, so the Sisterhood grew its own flesh. That's all they are. Flesh."

"Those people are alive!"

"And so are all the people out there in the city. Healthy and happy, because of us!"

"If this is the cost of that, then life's not worth living."

"And who are you, to decide that?"

"I'm the Doctor." His face hardened. "I'm a Time Lord. I'm the last surviving President of Gallifrey, and if you want a higher authority, there isn't one! It stops with me."

"Just to confirm," said "Rose", moving around the Doctor. "None of the humans in the city actually know about this?"

"We thought it best not."

"Hold on a minute. I can understand all this, the people and the vows, but what have you done to Rose?"

"I don't know what you mean!" said Hame, stepping back.

"No, no, no, no. You've done something, and I want it reversed."

"I'm perfectly fine." "Rose" added.

"No, you're not, sweetheart, and d'you wanna know why?" Jack asked, almost sweetly. "These people are dying, and Rose would care."

"All right, clever clogs." she said.

"What's happened to you?" asked the Doctor, softly.

"I knew something was going on in this hospital, but I needed this body, and your brain, to find it out."

"Who are you?" asked Jack.

She leaned in towards them. "The last human!" she whispered.

"Cassandra?!"

"Oh, wake up and smell the perfume!" She sprayed the contents of the vial from her cleavage in their faces in two quick squirts. Both men collapsed. Hame rushed to their sides.

"What did you do? I don't understand, I'll have to fetch Matron!"

"You do that," Cassandra said. "Now, run along! Sound the alarm!"

*****

The Doctor came to inside a small, green pod. He could see Jack bound in his shredded shirt near his feet. He might have struggled, but for two things: one, he was still unconscious and two, his neck was tied fairly tightly to the railings. A fact he discovered when he awoke. "Let me out of here!" the Doctor said, angrily.

"Aren't you lucky there was a spare?" responded Cassandra sweetly. "Standing room only. They pump the patients with a top-up every ten minutes, and you've got about... three minutes left. Enjoy."

"You've stolen Rose's body, now let her go!"

"I will! As soon as I find someone younger, and less common, I'll jump off with the weights, now hush-a-bye! It's showtime!"

"Anything we can do to help?" Two sisters had approached during the conversation, as had Chip.

"Straight to the point, Whiskers. I want money."

"The Sisterhood is a charity. We don't give money, we just ... accept."

"The humans across the water pay you a fortune, and that's just what I want! A one-off payment...and perhaps a yacht. In return for which I will tell the city nothing of your institutional murder. Do we have a deal?"

The Doctor was distracted by the sight of Jack nearly suffocating himself trying to escape, and so missed the rest of the conversation and was startled when his door opened, along (he noticed, rushing to untie his friend) with all the others in this row. "What have you done?" he cried, seeing the patients all walking out.

"Gave their systems a shot of adrenaline, just to wake them up!"

"Don't touch!" he said, over his shoulder as he ran. He watched as one of the "patients" pulled a lever and every other door in the vast chamber swung open.

"We've got to get out of here!" Jack said.

"One touch and you get every disease there is, and I want that body safe, Cassandra!" the Doctor warned.

"We've got to go down, take the stairs!" added Jack, shoving Cassandra before him. When they finally reached the bottom, she broke for the lifts.

"No good, they're grounded, there'll be a quarantine." the Doctor snapped.

"This way, then!" Cassandra called after her, hysterical. Chip, trailing behind, was cut off by a sea of patients emerging from a siide corridor. Jack and the Doctor turned to help.

"Leave him! He's only got a half life, come on!"

"Mistress!" he called miserably, then turned and ran back. The other three continued on, until they ended up in a small room whose only exit they had just been barricaded against the approach of more patients.

"We're trapped! What are we going to do?" Cassandra whined.

"Well, for starters, you'll be leaving that body. That psychograft is banned for a reason. You're compressing Rose to death!" the Doctor fumed.

"I've got nowhere to go. My original skin's dead."

"That's not my problem, now let her go!"

"You asked for this." she answered, and pushed off as pink mist, into the Doctor's body.

"Blimey, my head! Jack! What's going on? Where's she gone?" Rose asked breathlessly.

"Oh, my." said the Doctor, moving awkwardly and speaking in an accent which could only be described as 'very posh indeed'. "This is - different. Goodness me, I'm a man! Yum! So many parts! Oh, Oh! Two hearts! Oh, baby, I'm beating out a samba!"

"Get out of there." Jack growled.

"Not traditionally pretty, but so slim! And a little bit dangerous." Her gaze raked the other two, settled on Rose. "I've been inside your head. Don't deny it, you've been looking." She placed the Doctor's hands on his chest. "You like it!"

The door burst open. "Up the steps!" cried Rose, grabbing the ladder she'd backed up against.

"Out of the way, blondie!" Cassandra shoved Rose, and started climbing. The other two quickly followed.

"If you get out of the Doctor's body, he can think of something!" Rose called up.

"Hey!" Jack exclaimed. One of the Sisters had grabbed his ankle under his trouser cuff.

"You have destroyed everything. The good name of the Sisterhood! Everywhere, disease, sickness - a-aaah!" She cried out, her skin blistering and scaling.

"Oh, God! Her glove was ripped! You two go on, Rose. I'll miss -" he stopped, fell off the ladder. Rose looked down at the patients climbing the ladder - perilously close, now.

"Move!" she snapped. They came to a door, just beneath the ceiling. It was locked.

"Well, now what do we do?" Cassandra asked.

"Use the sonic screwdriver!" Rose answered.

"I can't. Surface memory only tells me what it is, not how to use it."

"Cassandra, go back into me, the Doctor'll know what to do. Do it!"

"Hold on tight." the pink mist moved again. "Oh, chav-tastic again. Open it!" she shouted.

"Not unless you get out of her."

"We need the Doctor."

"Leave her, now!" he blazed. The pink mist moved again.

"No matter how difficult the situation, there is no need to shout." "the Doctor" said.

"Cassandra, get out of him." Rose shouted.

"But if I go into you, he simply refuses, he's so rude!"

"I don't care, just do something!"

"Oh, I'm so going to regret this." The pink mst shot past Rose, and into the topmost patient. "Oh, sweet Lord! I look disgusting!" she said, over the hum of the sonic screwdriver. "Oh, no you don't!" She shot through the closing doors, back into Rose.

"This is your last warning, now will you let her go!" Fury was radiating off him. Cassandra was sitting against the wall, and didn't even notice.

"Inside her head. They're so alone." she said, desolately. "They keep reaching out, just to hold us. All their lives and they've never been touched." His face softening, the Doctor moved over to her. He held out his hand. She looked up at him, took it, stood. Then, he let go and they moved off as the banging started on the door. He burst back into ward twenty-six, only to meet the woman from before rushing at him with a stand.

"No, no no no! Look!" He shot his arms from his sleeves, showing a good inch of wrist below his jumper cuff. "Rose" showed her bare arm. "If we'd been touched, we'd be dead." She dropped the stand. "So what's happening?"

"There's nothing but silence from the other wards, I think we're the only ones left. I've been trying to get through the quarantine feild. If I can get a signal over to New New York, they can send a private executive squad."

"You can't do that, it'll break the quarantine."

"I am not dying in here!"

"We cannot let a single particle of those diseases escape, there are ten million people in that city, now turn that thing off!"

"Not if it gets me out!"

"Alright, fine! So I have to stop you, as well, I can manage that. Cassandra! Novice Hame, everyone - excuse me, your Grace - I need you to get me the IV solutions for every disease, now move it!" They did,rushing to grab as many as they could while the Doctor tied one of the Duke's gold braid ropes around him. Then, he fired the sonic screwdriver at the Duke's pulley. He hung each of the bags from the rope, and, pulley in hand, ran into the corridor, dragging Cassandra behind him. He raced over to the lift, took a run-up and jumped into the shaft. He then attached the pulley, took a firm grip, and shouted back "Going down! Coming, Cassandra?"

"You must be joking!" she yelled back.

"I need another pair of hands, now come on!" She looked around. There were patients coming out of the entrance to intensive care, and the ward doors were sealed fast. Squealing, she ran and jumped onto the Doctor's back. He then separated his legs - he had no desire to friction-burn through his favourite jeans, thanks - and flicked the pulley to release. With Cassandra screaming on his back, he descended, slowing to a halt just above the roof of the lift's cage. Jumping off, and setting Cassandra down (ignoring her quip about weight loss), he pulled off the disinfectant cover's lid, and emptied all of the bags he was carring into its reservoir.

"Now, take hold of that lever, and when I tell you to, pull." he ordered.

"There's still a quarantine, we can't -"

"Do it!" he snapped, sonicking the cage roof open. Jumping down, he added "Now, that lever's gonna resist, so pull on it with everything you've got. Ready?"

"What are you doing?"

"I've got an appointment. The Doctor is in!" He answered, moving out into the lobby. "Hello, you lot! Here I am! That's right, come on!" He backed back into the lift. "Now!"

Commence Stage One disinfection, the voice said. "Come on!" he shouted. The first of the patients came into the spray. "Now, pass it on! That's right, pass it on!" He was grinning from ear to ear. They left the lift, touching the others as they went.

*****

Jack woke up with a gasp. Not again, he thought. Then he noticed that there seemed to be some sort of wave moving past him, of patients touching one another. There were little puffs of steam rising from the contact, and in its wake, their faces seemed to be...pink. Their faces were pink and the sores were gone. Seeing that he was awake, one of them touched him, too, and he felt a tremendous rush of relief. That's better, he thought, I'm me again. Then he remembered Chip, and moving back to where he'd last seen the little guy, he smiled, touching as many others as he could. Just a clasping of hands, even the occasional hug. They were all smiling incredulously.

He found hip shut in one of the pods. Unfortunately, the "top up" had just started, so Jack had to trust in his contagious immunity/cure as he pulled the door open. Sure enough, Chip faded back to normal when touched, the same as everyone else. "Come on, Chip. Let's go back to find the others."

*****

"Pass on what? Pass on what?" Cassandra asked from above him. She jumped down, and the Doctor caught her. "What did they pass on, did you kill them?"

"That's your kind of answer. I'm the Doctor, and I cured them!" He held out his arms to the woman approaching him, and enveloped her in a hug. "That's better now, isn't it." he said, into her hair. "Go on, pass that on too." he said, and she did, moving off to hug someone else.

"Look at them!" He exclaimed. "A brand-new race. New humans - and you can't deny them, Cassandra." he whirled on her. "You can't deny them, 'cos you helped create them!" He was still grinning broadly, when he spied Jack and Chip emerged from a corridor.

"Right." he said, face falling. "Now. I want you out of there."

"But I've nowhere to go!"

"I don't care. Everything has its time, Cassandra, and everything dies. I told you that before."

"But -"

"No. There's a whole world out there, full of new, young life. There's no place for you anymore."

Cassandra looked at the doctor, then past him. "A body..." she mused.

The Doctor turned, saw who she was looking at. "No. He's got a life of his own."

"I worship the mistress!" Chip said ardently. "I welcome her." She passed over his shoulder, a swirl of pink mist, then into Chip. Rose promptly collapsed, and the Doctor caught her and held her, as he looked at Cassandra.

She smiled awkwardly. "Oh, dear. Poor Chip. He's only a half-life, and he's been through such a lot. His heart is racing so. I think he's dying. But that's...good. That's all right." She looked up. "I understand, now, Doctor. You're right, there's no place for me here."

"Then there's one thing I can do. Jack, I still have to talk to the Face of Boe, if you'd take Cassandra back to the TARDIS?"

"Course, Doctor. It's the only way - I'm awake now. But I've got something I need to talk to you about, later."

"Right." Rose stirred. The Doctor's face became infinitely tender. "Rose? I've got to go visit the Face of Boe, just quickly, but you can go back to the TARDIS with Jack, if you like."

"No, I'd rather... I'd rather stay with you, thanks." She smiled back up at him. "I'd prefer to walk though."

"Oh. Oh, right." he put her down, and they went upstairs together.

*****

"You look well. Thought you were dying."

There are better things to do today. Dying can wait.

"Is he telepathic?"

I am, Rose. I had grown tired with the universe, Doctor, but you have taught me to look at it anew.

"I've heard some legends, here and there. They say that you're millions of years old."

That would be impossible. There was a laugh in his "voice".

"Wouldn't it just. Now, I got the impression you wanted to tell me something."

A great secret.

"So they say."

It can wait.

"Does it have to?"

We will meet again, Doctor. For the third time, for the last time. Then the truth shall be told. It has been good to see you both again. Goodbye, Rose. Doctor. Until that day... He vanished in a stream of blue sparkles.

"Now that was enigmatic. Does a good line in enigmatic, that old Face." the Doctor's voice was tinged with affection. "Come on, Rose. Home time!"

They linked hands, and walked back to the TARDIS.

*****

The TARDIS arrived at a party. To Rose, who'd seen it already on the film from the hospital, it looked very familiar.

"Thank you." said Chip/Cassandra, who was dressed in black robes and spoke with a light Irish accent.

"Just go, and don't look back." said the Doctor. They approached the party-goers as he, Jack and Rose retreated into the shadows.

"Excuse me? My lady Cassandra." Chip/Cassandra were smiling.

"I'm sorry, I don't want anything right now. I'm fine, thank you."Young Cassandra said briskly.

"No! I just wanted to say, you look beautiful."

"Well, that's very kind, you strange little thing." Her voice was warmer. "Thank you very much."

"I mean it!" they said, vehemently. They stepped closer. "You look so beautiful."

"Thank you." She whispered, moved. Chip/Cassandra sighed, and collapsed. She caught them, and started shouting for help. She cradled him in her arms. "It'll be all right. There, now. I've got you. I'll be all right..." she crooned. The Doctor laid a hand on Rose's and Jack's arms, and pushed them gently back into the TARDIS.

Sorry that this hasn't been too Nine-a-licious, but I need to stick pretty close to canon for a bit. If I'm going to have season four turning out similar, I can't deviate too much yet! But, fear not! Nine/Rose shippers will receive their due reward from me, even if they didn't from RTD. :P (Please, what did you think?)

Baby picspam

Fri, 05 Sep 2008 17:20:40 GMT

For bubbles_san. Based on the tinyfic I wrote: "Come on! What have you got that for?" "He's got *lightning* coming from his cheeks." "So?" "Well, yours is useless. He just sleeps." "He'll evolve! Then he'll be fantastic!" "Well, mine's better than both of yours.""No way!" "Oh, God. Here comes Simon's Jigglypuff!"

The Christmas Invasion (nine redux)

Mon, 01 Sep 2008 09:54:19 GMT

An AU story, because the Christmas Invasion annoyed me. Most of S2 annoyed me, in fact, but TCI in particular just would have been better with Eccleston. So I decided to see if I could do better. This begins during the Parting of the Ways, when the Doctor is kissing Rose. Please assume all outside events occur precisely as they did on-screen.

The Doctor stood, holding his beloved in his arms. He then exhaled the Time Vortex on one long breath, and smiled. He called, before he'd thought "Jack? Come on, if you're coming!" and carried Rose into the TARDIS. He'd meant to carry her to the medical bay, but placed her down gently on the grating instead when he felt the first spasm of weakness. Pre-regenerative amnesia, or instinct, led him to the door to call "Jack?". He was therefore less startled than he should have been to see the man sprinting towards him and into the TARDIS.

Jack dashed through the door, then stopped dead when he saw Rose lying unconscious on the floor. "Doctor? What happened?" he asked.

"Jack. So glad you could make it. Hit the fast return switch, there's a good lad."

"What? What's wrong, I don't understand."

"I'm only dying, it's nothing to worry about, but I'm in quite a bit of pain right now, and I don't trust myself at the controls so will you please do as I asked?"

Jack did, flicking the switches almost without noticing. "Doctor, if you're dying, shouldn't you be in the med-bay?"

"Good idea. Bring Rose, would you?" But before Jack could get to her, she had woken and was sitting up.

"Jack? Doctor? What happened? Oh, my head."

"Come on Rosie, we need to get you to medical. Doctor's orders, you know." Jack replied, helping her up. "I'd tell you what's going on, but I don't know myself. His Lordhip's not at all well, so I haven't pushed him for an explanation."

The three of them found the medical bay conveniently located on the first right turn out of the console room, and Jack helped Rose onto a bed. "Lie there sweetheart, just until you're feeling a bit better, hey?" Jack said, and Rose was feeling too confused and disoriented to argue. "Doctor?" he added, going to the Time Lord's side. "You said you're dying, how's about I try to fix some of that? I at least know where the aspirin isn't stored."

"All right." he grudgingly agreed, grimacing at the joke. "Not sure there's much you can do to help, though." lying down, the Doctor crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll try a healing coma. Might work, might not. There should be some neuro-repair tech lying about, too. It'll have a Time Lord setting, but be careful. If I have to regenerate, I don't want you too close. I'm not very good at it, and the circumstances are far from ideal." he then shut his eyes, and by all appearances went to sleep.

Rose watched, dazed, as Jack dashed about the room trying to find something and muttering incomprehensibly to himself. "What're you looking for?" she asked.

"A neuro-repair unit." he answered, distractedly.

"What's it look like?"

"A really fancy spanner, more than anything else. One of those nice, metal ones you see in museums."

"What? Jack, that's just a spanner. And it's hanging from the cupboard right above your head."

He looked up. "Thanks, Rose. You're a lifesaver!" He started muttering again, then ran over to the Doctor's bedside and held the open end of the 'spanner' over his forehead. It emitted a warm, yellow glow which enveloped his face, then after a while it stopped. The sleeping features of the face beneath him seemed to relax, and Jack let out a breath of relief. Then, he reset the unit for humans and used it on Rose. It took some time, and since he knew what he was looking for this time, Jack explained to Rose that while he didn't know what she'd done to get herself into such a state, she would have been very over-emotional, prone to mood swings and have had impaired reasoning skills while her brain repaired itself. He then told her to press the button set just below the working end of the unit while holding it so that his hairline was in the gap at the top.

"After all, I was dead not half an hour ago. Who knows what kind of damage that could do?"

In fact, he was just fine, after a diagnostic cycle the neuro-repair unit shut off. He and Rose then straightened out the room, and went to open the door to whoever was attempting to beat it down. Which turned out to be Jackie and Mickey.

"Rose? Rose! Oh, thank God you're okay, sweetheart." Jackie led Rose out, talking all the while. "I was so worried! ..."

"So. Jumping Jack flash. Where's the Doctor?" Mickey asked.

"In the med-bay, receuperating."

"From what? Is he all right?"

"I don't know. On both counts. Look, if you want to talk can we go inside? I don't want to leave him."

"Yeah, all right. What happened out there?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Last I knew, fast-return switch should have taken us to fourteenth-century Kyoto, not here."

"Well, the last I saw of the TARDIS was four months ago, back in August. Rose came out, complaining because the Doctor had sent her away, and how it wasn't right. Then she got the idea that she could open up the console, fly the TARDIS. Jackie and I told her she was crazy, but she wouldn't listen so we helped her do it. Next thing I know, the doors shut by themselves and it vanished. Then it turned up here."

"Thanks. That explains a lot, actually. I think."

"Great. So what happened back there in the year whatever-it-was?"

"Daleks. Insane, murderous pepperpots." he added, at Mickey's blank look. "They'd somehow managed to build a fleet out in the wilds of the solar system, and we had to stop them. I was holding them off, the Doctor said he'd sent Rose home - but you knew that - and he was building a weapon to stop them. Then they shot me, and the next thing I know I'm taking in this giant breath, and I'm hearing the Doctor shouting for me. I ran to the TARDIS, hit the fast-return switch, came in here and patched everyone up as best I could, then I went to let you two in. Hello, here comes trouble."

"Right. I said so, Rose. He cannot possibly be comfortable sleeping in that. You two, change him into this." Jackie announced icongruously, dropping a bundle of pyjamas into Jack's arms. "Rose, where can I find a blanket on this blinking ship?"

"There's one in the drawer." Jack answered.

"Right, well you can cover him in that too. Us girls'll be waiting outside, knock when you're done." she herded Rose through the door, shut it and leaned against the wall.

Five minutes later, a knock came. "Great. Now, you and Rose look like you could use a rest. Go and do some shopping, it's nearly Christmas. I'll sit with this lump. You go on as well, Micks." Jackie said in a motherly fashion, herding the trio out of the door.

*****

In the marketplace Mickey took them to, Jack had them both laughing at some crazy, semi-fictionalised episode of his life, when he abruptly pulled them into an alley. "Don't look, but those men in red suits are following us." he said quietly.

"Red suits?" Mickey asked, confused.

"He means the Santas. Thought Iwas being paranoid." Rose said.

"How can you not recognise Santa?" Mickey asked.

"They don't have Christmas where I come fro- duck!" Jack cried, as the market began to explode around them.

"No, run!" Rose countered. This seemed like a sensible suggestion, so they did. They finally stopped, out of breath, leaning against the TARDIS. "Was that tree there earlier?"

"No. And it looks too nice to have been thrown out, and why would anyone put a Christmas tree there?"

"You guys put trees in the trash?! God, that explains so many of the environmental problems you guys get."

"Not really, and they're mostly artificial trees, but can we focus?"

"Sure. Particularly since your mosly artificial tree is coming towards us."

Rose started to protest, then stopped. The three turned, and in an admirably synchronised maneuver, they dashed into the TARDIS. Rose shut the door, Mickey put his head in his hands and Jack dashed to the med-bay. "Doctor? I know this is gonna be bad for you, but can you please wake up? There's a mostly artificial tree trying to get into the TARDIS."

The Doctor opened his eyes. He sat up and reached for his jacket pocket, hitting cloth. "Screwdriver?" he demanded.

"Right here."

"What sort of mostly artificial tree?"

"Rose called it a Christmas tree, whatever that is."

"What would a...? Never mind. Come on." he strode from the room, with Jackie following. "Rose, open the doors would you? Ta." He looked out, checked the setting and zapped the tree, which promptly exploded. "Everyone okay? Rose, Mickey?"

"Yeah."

"I'm fine, Doctor."

"Good. Jack, you shouldn't have woken me up. I think I'm out of the woods as far as regeneration is concerned, but my neural pathways still haven't stabilised. I'm still - what's this?" he pulled an apple from his pajama pocket.

"That's Howard's. He gets hungry." Jackie answered.

"He gets hungry in his sleep?" the Doctor exclaimed.

"Sometimes." she responded defensively.

"Now, Rose. Jack." he staggered, and she was beside him, easing him to the ground. "I need to tell you this." they could have been the only people in the room. "Those were just pilot fish. Something's coming." He passed out.

"What're pilot fish?" Rose asked.

"How should I know? Jack, catch his legs would you?" Jackie puffed, lifting the Doctor's shoulders.

"They're these tiny fish with lights on 'em, I think." Jack answered. "Swim around with the big boys, sharks and all that. I think what the Doctor meant is that if we're seeing pilot fish, the sharks aren't far behind."

Mickey had been fiddling with the monitor on the console, Rose having told him earlier that it could receive television signals. "Hey, I've found the news! Come and have a look at this!" he called. There was some footage of Harriet Jones, talking about the importance of British extraterrestrial efforts, and Rose said

"That's Harriet Jones!"

"Yeah, she's prime minister now. Didn't you know?" Jackie replied. Jack looked a bit awestruck, and the trio returned their attention to the screen. The headline now read Live footage from the Guinevere One. The screen showed a newsreader, who was explaining that the mars probe had just re-established contact. The screen then cut to some snow, and then to feirce-looking bone faces with glowing red eyes. One of them was speaking. It was gibberish. Rose looked at Jack.

"Don't look at me, sweetheart. I can just about recognise that it's a language that'll get subsumed into Galactic Standard in a thousand years; that doesn't mean I can translate."

"But the TARDIS translates for us. Everywhere. All the time."

"Well apparently not."

"Thanks, Rickey, we'd noticed that. You mean you didn't realise?" he asked Rose.

"Well, why would I? No reason to until now. How did you know?"

"I come from the fifty-first century. Do you really think my native language is your contemporary English? Ever since I came aboard the TARDIS, I've been hearing you both speak Boeshane - my language. When the Doctor dropped into his 'healing coma', you stopped. He must be part of the translation software."

"Must be. Sorry, Jack, I never thought. You were speaking English perfectly in 1945, or you'd never have fit in, so I just sort of assumed..."

"'S all right." he gave her a one-armed hug. She switched the monitor off with a decisive click.

"Mum. If there're aliens out there, and Jack hasn't told us anything," She looked at him, he shook his haid as if to say I don't even recognise them, "I think it's fair to assume that this isn't official first contact and they aren't friendly, so we need provisions. Mum, you should get some food, please. Mickey, help her. I'll chech on the Doctor, and Jack, if you'd keep an eye on the news channels?"

Jackie and Mickey nodded, and Jack gave a crisp "Yes, ma'am!"

*****

Rose stopped stroking the Doctor's hair (well, his head, she amended mentally) to pour a cup of tea from her mum's thermos when there was a terrific jolt, and then a loud yell from the console room. She jumped up, spilling the tea, and ran out. Jackie, Mickey and Jack were being held by the aliens from the news footage, she saw as she crashed into Harriet Jones and was enveloped in a hug.

"Oh, thank God. Is the Doctor here?" she asked.

"He's ill. Flat on his back in the TARDIS." Rose answered, indicating the box behind her.

"Oh, dear."

Rose smiled wryly. One of the aliens had removed his mask at some point, and was now speaking. "What's he saying now, d'you know?"

The man standing behind Harriet holding some sort of computer said "He says that we were hiding...superior technology. He says that the owner of the ... clever blue box will speak for humanity."

"Well," said Jack, stepping forward, "I guess that's me." He shot a look at Rose, daring her to contradict him. "You're breaking at least fifteen galactic laws, you know. Maybe more, I'm not sure how strict the Shadow Proclamation is in this time period. Now, I'm not the local enforcer, but I know him pretty well. I'll not tell him what you've done if you leave peacefully."

The sycorax just laughed. "One third will die, or one half will be sold." He said, echoed by the man with the translator. "It's your choice." he added, in English.

"Wait a minute!" Rose said, in great excitement. "You're speaking English!"

"I would never sully my tongue with your filthy speech! I speak only Syoraxian." The Sycorax leader protested.

"But I'm hearing Boeshane." Jack grinned. "And if I'm hearing Boeshane, that means..."

They all turned to look at the TARDIS doors, which opened to reveal the Doctor, in all his pyjama-clad glory. "Did you miss me?" He turned to the Sycorax, looked around. Then he ran out, shutting the doors bahind him, and stopped at the console with a glowing red dome.

"Now, what's this?" He knelt. "Looks like blood." He dipped a finger in it, then sniffed the finger delicately. "Yep, definitely. Human blood, A positive, with just a dash of iron. Which means...blood control! Oh, that's just... I haven't seen blood contol for centuries! Ah! Now, blood control, you're holding this lot to ransom. Harriet Jones, hello there. All the A postives back home doing something alarming, are they?" She nodded. "Well, the thing about blood control is that it only goes so far. Like hypnotism, you can't hypnotise somebody to death, the survival instinct's too strong, and that means that you're holding the Earth to ransom on a bluff. Now that's dangerous. Cos you see, I'm gonna have to call that bluff." He pressed the dome of the console, and on the planet below, two billion people started to step forwards, blinked and came to themselves.

"Right!" The Doctor continued. "Now that that's dealt with, you lot." He looked around, thinking, then abruptly drew a sword from the nearest Sycorax's sheath. "I stand as this planet's champion. By the ancient rites of combat, I challenge you."

There was a bloodthirsty gleam in the other's eye. "For the planet?"

"For the planet."

The swordfight was brilliant, Rose thought. The Doctor was showing an uncommon level of skill, though he looked as if he'd have been more comfortable with something lighter like a rapier, and this led to one sticky moment, when the Sycorax leader pinned him and cut his hand off. "Ah," he'd said. "You think you've won. But I'm luckier than that, you know. I very nearly triggered a regeneration earlier, and that means I have just enough cellular energy to do..." he held up his stump, which wasn't bleeding, "This!" She watched, rapt, as a palm gerw up, then fingers and finally, he flexed the hand and used it to catch the sword she threw him.

"Witchcraft!" the Sycorax snarled.

"Time Lord." was the Doctor's response. He renewed his attack, and in short order he'd had the other alien pinned beneath him at the edge of the ship. "Do you yeild?" he'd asked.

"I do." he grudged.

The Doctor stood. "You all saw!" he called out. "Now, leave this planet and its people in peace!" He'd then turned to Rose, Jack and the others. "Your Howard sure does like his snacks." he said to Jackie, pulling a satsuma from his pocket. "Now doesn't that just sum up Christmas? You get to the end of everything, and there's always one silly little satsuma." He then threw it, hard, at the button in front of him, disintegrating the hull beneath the attacking Sycorax behind him. "I know every art and artifice, and that includes treachery. Be warned." He then strode into the ship, and looked at the others. "Go out, into the stars. Tell them of the Earth, if you must. Tell them of the people, and the riches. But do not neglect to tell them this. It. Is. Defended."

In a flash of blue light, they were at ground level once again. "Harriet Jones." the Doctor said affectionately. "You won the election, then?"

"Landslide majority." she answered, proudly.

"Fantastic! And you two!" he added, turning to Jack and Rose. "You two were brilliant! I heard that little speech you gave, Jack, and Rose? Thanks for the sword." He hugged them both.

Harriet had drawn away, talking to the man who'd been with her on the ship. "Torchwood, ma'am. They say it's ready."

"Good." She said. "I saw the specs on that gun. Tell them to fire, but just to clip the nose of the alien ship. Show them what we're capable of. Oh, and tell them that if the ship is destroyed, their budget is zero for the next five years. And that includes their ... extracurricular funding."

He turned away, speaking into his earpiece. There was a slight tremor, and a thick green beam lanced out and knocked off the foremost inch of the retreating ship.

"What was that?" Rose asked.

"That, my dear, was a demonstration of what we're capable of. The Doctor isn't always here, we saw that today, and it pays for enemy aliens to know that we can fight our own battles, if we have to."

The Doctor nodded. "Nice strategy. And thanks for not destroying it."

"I've already ordered the murder of one group of aliens, Doctor. I have no wish to do so again."

The Doctor nodded again. "Well put. Well, from the look on Jackie Tyler's face, I shall have to attend Christmas dinner. You'll enjoy it, Jack. Be educational. And your lift is here." A black car had pulled in from a side-street. So farewell, Harriet Jones. Long may you preside over the affairs of this nation. Or something like that. Merry Christmas!" He waited until she'd sat down in the car, then waved and, along with his chattering friends, walked off to the TARDIS.

There. Isn't that better? I'm happier, anyway. If people like, I could maybe redo the rest of season two this way, then seasons three and four. So far as the AU is concerned, my (very vague) plot structure is as follows: Jack learns he's immortal from the Doctor, and figues out that he's got to work within Torchwood like he did in canon some time before Doomsday; Rose still gets lost, but that stupid little speech is rather different cos the Doctor realises she set this up and she did it for a reason so she'll get back; Martha does not love the Doctor at all, he's emphatically not her type (and he doesn't kiss her), and HN/FOB is radically different; Donna does fancy the Doctor since he is her type, but gets over it fast because she knows he's in love with Rose and he'll see her again. Also, Journey's End will be rather happier. Yes? No? Recoiling in horror? Please let me know!

Liberation of a Bugatti Veyron

Thu, 28 Aug 2008 16:14:49 GMT

Written for bubbles_san's challenge to write Clarkson's attempts to "get into Simon's Veyron".

In case you hadn't guessed, they aren't mine.

Liberation of a Bugatti Veyron, or Five Times Jeremy Clarkson didn't get to drive Simon Cowell's car and one he did.

1) The first attempt was laughable, really. Why he'd thought he could break into Simon Cowell's garage with a hammer without being noticed was one of the mysteries of mankind. After he'd posted bail, Jeremy thought 'Back to the drawing board'.

2) The second attempt was only marginally better. This time, he (ahem) borrowed Watchdog's tame car thief (the man could pick locks, too) and attempted to break into Simon Cowell's garage without being noticed. This time, he had to post bail for the pair of them.

3) The third plan was ingenious, even James had to admit that. There was, however, one flaw which he didn't hesitate to point out. "You were seriously expecting the Stig to steal one of the best driver's cars in the world, then give it to you?!"

"I was going to let him drive it back! I thought if he knew he'd get to drive it, he wouldn't mind."

"You pillock. He said after we got one on the show that the car didn't like you. Too concerned with how it made you feel, not enough for the car or something like that."

"That's ridiculous! Of course I was careful with it, it wasn't mine!"

"It's well known that you and Cowell don't get on, but that's entirely beside my point. The point is that you were expecting the Stig to drive a Bugatti Veyron to your house then just get out of it."

"All right, fair enough, I'm an idiot. Happy now?"

"Very. You know, you could try asking Cowell if he'll let you drive it."

"Shut up, James."

4) The fourth attempt was even less likely to succeed than the first. "What are you doing, Jeremy?"

"This, my tiny friend, is a teleport!"

"Oh, God. You're not still trying to steal Simon Cowell's Bugatti are you?"

"And what if I am? This thing will have other uses too, you know."

"If you ever get it to work. I agree with James, actually."

"Traitor. Now get out, your teeth are blinding me and interfering with my work."

5) The final attempt actually got him into some real trouble. "Jeremy, we can't keep bailing you out with the police like this. It's not funny, and it's got to stop. If it happens again, you're off the show."

"Yes, boss. No more illegal attempts to drive Cowell's Bugatti. Got it."

Hammond and May were waiting outside. "What did he say?"

"That if I do it again, I'm fired."

"We told you it was stupid. Trying to carjack Simon Cowell in the middle of London when he's stopped at traffic lights? You're lucky you weren't committed."

"I was, sort of. I'm attending compulsory counseling sessions for six months."

"You see? We told you not to do it."

Epilogue (seven months later): "That was fantastic! Thank you so much, Simon. I will never make fun of your taste in cars ever again."

"You see, Jeremy? All you had to do was ask nicely!"

Writer's Block: You and A Fictional Character of Your Choice

Wed, 27 Aug 2008 20:45:32 GMT

If you were stranded on an island with a fictional character, who would it be and why?

Submitted By mesnyder_92

View 500 Answers

The Doctor (number nine, with TARDIS) so I could escape!

(And have fun adventures. And hopefully sex. But that's a secret! :P)

Autobiography of an Automobile

Mon, 25 Aug 2008 15:21:12 GMT

Or "Why I love Richard Hammond", by Oliver the Opel Kadett.

Until I met him, my life was nothing extraordinary. I was made in 1963, sold to someone who kept me in petrol and repairs, reasonable maintenance but nothing special. Then I became too old or slow, and was sold on. This continued, and I was reasonably happy, until July of last year. That's when he came.

At first, he was nothing special. Intending to go a long way, but I can handle ambition! We were to be part of a convoy, I discovered. My fellows were an '85 Mercades 260 E, and an '81 Lancia Beta Coupe. (And a Beetle, but the drivers didn't like him, poor thing, so we didn't really get to know him). Since we were to be going a long way together, it was decided that we were 'Opal', 'Merc' and 'Lancia' to one another. It's nice to be friendly! We drove, and were given a shakedown. I did my best, despite the embarrassing horn! My driver and I were getting on famously, and then he named me! My very own name! Well, I'm Oliver forever, now.

The first night, we learned that we were to cross the Makgadikgadi. No car has ever done this - we would be first! Weight-loss was obviously needed, so Richard (if you can't be on first-name terms with a driver when he's named you, when can you?) won my heart completely when he only pulled off the radiator grille. He couldn't bear to damage the rest of me! Well, see me sink now, why don't you. I was driving on air. Lancia and Merc were resigned, especially when they started sinking, though they did seem to take some vindictive pleasure from watching their drivers inundated with dust, while my Richard was safe and happy.

The first trouble was the time-trial. Everyone has heard of the Stig. He simply is, and always has been. He understands us better than we know ourselves. His African cousin, on the other hand...doesn't. I did my utmost, for Richard, of course. But oh, I shudder to remember. His hand on my gear-lever, his feet on my pedals! Never again. Never. I am Richard's, and his alone.

Things went well enough after that, despite the unasked-for paint job, since Richard had kept me intact. I could reward him now, couldn't I? Merc was happy too, got quite a few of his bits replaced. Lancia was...less so. Looked absurd, and didn't he know it. So, yes. Things were going swimmingly, until they went sinkingly. I'm sorry, Richard, but the river was just too deep. Maybe in my youth I could have forded it, but not that day. And then, if you'd believe it, he stayed with me all afternoon and most of the night, replacing everything that was damaged! I was in better nick than he'd found me! Oh, that was heavenly. Nothing could stop us now, not even lack of petrol. We hit the border in fine style, and I came back to Earth with a bump.

Richard was going home. To England, and there was no way I could follow. I was heartbroken. But it got worse! Despite Merc's better performance on the lap, I was deemed more practical, and so I was to be bought...by African Stig. That was a low blow. To be driven, owned, by a man I despised after being left by one I loved! To be driven by a man who would try to seduce me when I had given my whole engine to another! How could I bear it?

But then, dear reader, I was rescued. Saved, and by Richard himself. He bought me form his bosses, took me over the oceans, and met me on the shore. I'm in repair now, becoming the best car I can be, just for him. Any day now, I'm going to be driven home, and kept in a dry garage, perfectly maintained and never sold. And that is why I love Richard Hammond.

**************

This piece of absurdity is further to a conversation at midnight last night, about how the Stig wouldn't seduce Oliver but African Stig might. bubbles_san sent plotbunnies and writing vibes, and you behold the result! Please, you liked? Disliked? It's my first post over here, so I'm kinda nervous.

Writer's Block: The Meaning of Love

Mon, 25 Aug 2008 10:47:04 GMT

What does love mean to you, and why? Have you always felt this way?

Submitted By rynanne

View 500 Answers

Love is foolishness and wisdom and commitment. Love is the mayonnaise in the sandwich of life. Romantic love is a choice as well as an emotion. Familial love is not. These are my experiences of love, and have developed with my life.

Comedy

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 19:21:50 GMT

Mock the Week: fantastic or what? Not only do they have fabulous humour, they also find very hot comedians! It seems to be one of the few things the BBC can do very well: theme tunes and hot comedians. What's not to love?

Avatars

Sat, 16 Aug 2008 16:38:10 GMT

These are so, so addicive!

Make them at http://www.faceyourmanga.com

Guess who they are :P
Hint: it's Doctor Who
I admit, some of these are better than others.

Writer's Block: Six-Word Story

Thu, 14 Aug 2008 13:41:12 GMT

Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in only six words. His response? “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” He is believed to have called it his greatest literary work ever. Can you write a story in six words?

Submitted By femspectre

View 506 Answers

She came, she loved, she left.

Welcome to LiveJournal

Sun, 03 Aug 2008 18:07:35 GMT

Print 'Hello, world', I guess. Maybe I'll start a blog here, maybe not. We shall see.