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Constants by Gillian Taylor [Reviews - 8]  Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to my lovely betas WMR, Ponygirl & NNWest. | |
by Gillian Taylor
"This is your fault," Rose grumbles, tugging uselessly at the ropes that hold her hands above her head.
"What'd I do?" he asks, his expression pointedly innocent.
"You're the one who had to whip out your sonic screwdriver," she replies, giving him a glare. Oh, she knows he meant it innocently enough. But he should've known. The people around them look like they've barely discovered fire and what does he go and do? Pulls out the sonic screwdriver. Idiot.
"The child looked like he might've been infected with a Snordling. Not a good thing, Snordlings. Sniffles, coughs and sneezes are one thing. But if you've got a Snordling inside you, well, it's all over when they decide enough's enough and its time to spawn," he says. "How was I to know that it was nothing more than a cold?"
"Next you're gonna say it wasn't your fault that the kid started crying?" Rose doesn't buy it. Snordlings. That's the problem with the Doctor, she decides. You can never tell when he's telling the truth or when he's making things up.
"It wasn't! I'll just talk to the village's chief and sort it. Nothing to worry about. Got it all under control."
As if his boastful words were the cause, a group of locals, led by a colourfully-painted man, came to a stop before them. "Kill them at dawn," the man says.
"Oh, now wait a tick. Just a tick, mind. Kill us? Kill! Honestly, what'd we do? We're just a pair of harmless travellers. Just stopping in for a visit. Why don't you just let us go and we'll be on our way?" The Doctor's trying his most charming smile, but she doubts it'll work.
"Start with the loud one first," the man says. Yup. She got it in one.
"Do me a favour, yeah?" she asks resignedly as the group walks away. "Shut up."
Surprisingly, he does.
Should've thought of that.
Really, really should've thought of that.
It wasn't like him — well, okay, it was — to just swan in, wave the sonic screwdriver around and try to save the world. But he could've sworn that the child had been infected with a Snordling. The child had all the right symptoms — there was the sneezing, the coughing, the sniffling. Even the faintest scent of curry, which was hard to duplicate.
Then again, maybe he'd been hungry? Could do with a bit of curry right about now. With some of that naan bread stuff, too.
He definitely wasn't expecting the child to scream, though. It was a harmless sonic screwdriver! Just because it was blinking rapidly didn't mean it was going to eat the child. Honestly, it was completely harmless. But for some reason he couldn’t convince the child of that particular fact and suddenly he became the villain in this particular story.
It took Rose's hand tugging insistently at his arm for him to realise that they were surrounded by a group of very angry-looking villagers. He'd tried his best disarming grin, but that only seemed to aggravate them.
And now he's here. All trussed up like something trussed up with Rose. Next to Rose, he corrects himself. Next, next, next. Not with. Not that he wouldn't mind being trussed up with Rose— right, not thinking about that.
So all he has to do is find a way out of this particular mess. Pity about the ropes, though. They are just a bit too tight to give him any leeway, let alone give him enough slack to try to reach the sonic screwdriver.
His gaze rests on that tempting object, so close and yet so far away. The villagers thought it was a wizard's wand, a magician's stick and he supposes that, in a way, it is. It's sitting on top of a low-built wall that surrounds the posts they're tied to. Maybe if he manages to get his trainers off he might be able to just reach it. Maybe.
Only problem, and it’s a big problem, is the village itself. They're in the centre of the area, completely exposed, and he knows it'll take something of a miracle to get out of this one. But he found his way into this mess. He can always find a way out.
He hopes.
Leela edges closer to the edge of the woods, moving with the slow stalk of a hunter. She sniffs the air and, deciding that she is safe for the moment, she considers the village with a thoughtful expression.
“Leela! We should-“
She moves her hand impatiently, signalling for his silence. Though the villagers are not hunters, the Doctor’s booming voice carries easily.
“Why are we whispering?” he asks, moving closer to her. He moves silently now, despite his words. When he looks at the village, his lips form the word ‘Ah.’
“There are strangers in the village,” she tells him.
“Strangers? Oh, that's marvellous! I love strangers, don’t you?” His wide grin and obvious excitement are enough to cause her to sigh. “So why are we talking about strangers?”
“They do not belong here.”
“Strangers rarely do. Unless they’re us,” the Doctor replies.
"We do not belong here either, Doctor."
"Oh, posh. Of course we belong here. At least at the moment. So what about these strangers? Were they doing strange things? Well, they are strangers. Probably were. Or are. Where are the strangers?" the Doctor asks.
She gives him a glare. "That is what I was trying to tell you."
"You were? Of course you were. Where are they?"
"They are tied up in the centre of the village."
"Why would they be tied up in the centre of the village?" The Doctor peers over her shoulder. "Oh. One of those types of strangers. You should've said so, Leela!"
"I did." Leela decides that there is no point in trying to contradict the Doctor. He is a very confusing man. Rarely does he mean what he says. Or, when he does, it makes no sense whatsoever.
"Question is, are these the good kind of strangers or the bad kind?"
"I do not know." Why does she bother?
"Only one way to find out," the Doctor declares and breaks their cover to stride boldly towards the village.
"Doctor! Do not-" He isn't listening. If he wanted to speak with them, he should have waited until darkness. This village is restless.
"Leela!" the Doctor calls.
She sighs and follows him. The least she can do is try to keep him out of trouble — even though it never works.
"Hello!"
The rather loud voice catches Rose off guard and she lets out a rather undignified squeak. Then again, it's almost impossible to be dignified when she's tied to a post. "Um, hello?" she replies once she gets her wits about her.
"Not again," the Doctor mutters beside her, but she dismisses the comment as unimportant. Someone is actually talking to them when she thought they were anathema to the rest of the village.
When she turns her head towards the voice, she blinks in shock as she registers the newcomer's appearance. Odd doesn't even half describe him. He's all teeth and curls. The colourful scarf that's draped around his neck doesn't fit the weather and he certainly doesn't seem to be one of the villagers. She'd definitely remember someone who looked like that. If anything, he looks like an eccentric person she'd be more likely to find in one of the poorer parts of London than on an alien planet.
"What're you in for?" the stranger asks, grinning widely. She isn't certain if he's noticed that the Doctor's beside her or not. But maybe, just maybe, she can convince this bloke to let them loose. It'd be fitting if she rescued them this time. After all, the Doctor's the one that got them into this mess in the first place.
Even though it's tempting to nod towards the Doctor and say 'he started it' she doesn't. "Misdiagnosing a Snordling invasion," she replies somewhat seriously, doubting that the man will have any idea what she's talking about.
Strangely enough, he gives every indication of understanding what she means. "Ah. Dangerous lot, Snordlings. Very messy. Explosive, too."
"Doctor, the villagers do not appear to like your talking to the prisoners." A woman appears from somewhere behind the man. She does fit the appearance of the villagers, especially with the leather outfit and her apparent readiness to pull a rather nasty-looking knife from its sheath at her waist.
"Oh?"
It's at that moment that she realises the woman called him 'Doctor'. "Doctor?" she asks.
"Yes?" Both her Doctor and the one standing next to her answer the question.
"Another one?" she asks weakly.
“Another-“ The new Doctor’s words are cut off by the arrival of their colourfully-painted friend.
"Who are you?" the village chief asks, or rather demands, forcefully pushing the curly-haired Doctor away from her.
“Who am I? Who am I! Honestly. I, my dear fellow, am the Doctor. This is my friend Leela. And you interrupted a very interesting conversation with this young lady.”
“No-one can talk to the prisoners unless they are approved by me.” The chieftain looks rather smug. At least, his back looks rather smug if a back could be said as such. Blimey, she’s been spending far too much time with the Doctor — her Doctor - if this is what she’s thinking about.
“Well, then, there’s a rather simple solution to that, isn’t there?” the curly-haired Doctor asks, his smile impossibly wide.
“There is?” That's definitely confusion lacing the chieftain’s tone.
“Of course! You just give me your approval and that’s it. I can continue my conversation and you can go back to whatever it was that you were doing.” Apparently deciding that the chieftain will give in, he starts to move around the other man, only to be halted by a hand pressed against his chest.
"You do not have my permission. Those who are due to be killed are denied the pleasures of talking to any other than themselves."
"Oi! We're right here, you know," she complains loudly.
The other Doctor winks at her. "Oh, now that's not sporting. Have you ever talked to yourself? Now I am a fantastic conversationalist and can keep myself entertained for hours, but it gets a little old. You see, when you look at it, everyone is due to be killed. You, me, the rest of this village, Leela, everyone. And do you know why?"
"Because you're threatening us?" the chieftain asks, a dangerous note added to his voice.
"Threatening? Oh, no! Definitely not. You see, everyone dies. Everyone will be killed — by natural causes or otherwise. But you're all talking to each other. Aren't you violating that same rule?"
Her head's starting to hurt from trying to follow this Doctor's logic. If anything, he seems more baffling than her Doctor.
She can hear the chief's mouth opening and closing, though she can't see it. Instead of arguing, he steps aside and lets the curly-haired Doctor return to her side. "Hello again," he says. She's starting to think that the manic grin is permanently affixed to his face.
"Hello," she replies, suddenly realising that the crowd that had been surrounding them had departed. It's almost as though there's a bubble of silence around them now. "Doctor?"
"Yes," he says. "And you are?"
She swallows, trying to reconcile the fact that there were two Doctors here. Does that mean she could see her former Doctor again? No. She's not going to dwell on that. She realises that he's waiting for her to respond and she offers him a faint smile. "Rose. I'm Rose."
"Pleasure! And this is Leela, though you already heard that." He steps to the side to allow her a clear view of his companion.
"Oh, give off already," the Doctor — her Doctor — grouses. "If you're going to release us, do it already, and spare us from your prattling."
Now that isn't like him at all. "Doctor, what is it?" she asks.
"Doctor? He is not you," Leela says.
"Actually, he is. Can't mistake that much aggravation for anything else. Leela, I'd like you to meet me. Me, you already know Leela."
"Hello," her Doctor says, half-heartedly waving his hand. "Would you get on with it?"
"All right. We'll see you later, Rose. Don't let him get too uppity. I know how troublesome I can be," the other Doctor replies, grinning widely as he gives her hand a brief pat.
She must look confused as he adds, "Can't stage a jailbreak in the middle of the day."
Now that makes sense. She isn't certain whether that particular fact should scare her or not. She suspects as she watches him stride away, Leela at his heels, that it probably should.
Was he really that arrogant? Not to mention that enamoured with prattling? Admittedly, prattling is an art form that he's always been a champion of, but this is a bit much. Well, was a bit much. And that hair! And those teeth! And he thought he had it bad with the ears his last go around.
Amazing how he tends to forget these sorts of things after a couple of centuries.
"So which one is he?" Rose asks, interrupting his contemplations.
"Which one?" he repeats dumbly before he realises what she's asking. "Oh! He's the fourth me. Had a bit of a thing with scarves back then."
"An' why didn't you remember that you were lurking about?" she asks. "I mean, if you were here before, wouldn't you've remembered meeting us?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her wrinkling her nose. He sympathises; time travel tends to do a number on semantics.
"Oh, it's happened before, you know. I run into a past self when I'm in a spot of bother and things tend to work out. Sometimes a bit more violently than I would like, but nothing too terrible. Normal sort of thing, really. It's a bit difficult to describe, but essentially I won't remember meeting myself until it happens. Now, I just remember meeting myself up to this point in time. I can't predict what my previous incarnation will do, not with any measurable degree of accuracy. I just remember that I thought myself rather rude." It's always a bit odd to meet himself, unsettling even. There are some incarnations that get along, and some that squabble continuously, like his third and second selves.
"So you didn't remember meeting yourself because it hadn't happened yet?" Rose sounds incredulous, but he's too busy being proud of her grasping the situation to really notice it.
"Exactly!" He beams at her, wincing when he turns his head a bit too far in an attempt to fully see her expression.
"My head hurts," she complains, closing her eyes. "So how many of you are there so far? I mean which one are you?"
"Ten. And not all of me are as nice or as sexy as I am now," he says. "Before you get it into your head that you want to meet all of me." That thought frightens him, actually. Especially the thought of her meeting his fifth self. Despite his past penchant for wearing vegetables as pieces of clothing, he was well aware of the looks Tegan gave him. The thought of Rose…
Definitely not thinking about that. "So, Rose Tyler, what did you think?"
"About what?"
"About me, of course! He's a bit loud, isn't he? And rude. And toothy. Really toothy. And that hair!"
"Are you fishin' for compliments?" Rose asks suspiciously.
He blinks. Was he? No. Certainly not! "Of course not! I'm just curious." He does not sound like he's defensive. Right?
"'Course you are."
She isn't answering his questions. Is she angry with him? Frustrated? Considering asking to travel with his past self? Of course not. That's completely daft. If Rose was travelling with him before, he would've known about it.
Unless it hadn't happened yet. His hearts skip a beat. He never should've brought them here.
"Rose, about me…"
"Are you jealous of yourself?" she asks suddenly and he definitely isn't blushing.
"Why would I be jealous of that git? He's annoying. And loud. And his scarf's too long."
"Doctor?"
"Yes?" he replies.
"Shut it."
Leela has spent the past several hours preparing to rescue the two strangers. Though the Doctor insists that the striped man is himself, she doubts it. How can someone so different be the same person?
She shakes her head, shoving aside these troublesome thoughts. She must be focused, attentive, when they enter the village. There is no place for these emotions when she is ready to fight. Instead of letting herself dwell on these things, she watches the village through narrowed eyes.
Night has fallen and the villagers have several sentries stationed at the perimeter. However, from what she can see, these sentries don't seem to take their positions as seriously as the situation warrants. Instead, they are laughing, joking, talking with each other rather than paying attention to the woods and various areas of ingress to the village.
A child of the Sevateem could boldly walk past these sentries without them realising it. They are fools and if she were in charge of them she would tell them precisely what they were doing wrong. Thankfully, she is not, and their inattention will make this much easier.
"Ready?" the Doctor asks, somehow managing to keep his voice to as close to a whisper as he can.
"I am," she replies. "You will follow me." She can see him glaring at her in the reflection of the village's torchlight. Too bad. In this, she knows more than the Doctor.
Ghosting through the trees, she leads him on a direct path to the village centre. As she expected given the quality of the sentries, there are no guards watching their prisoners. It is apparently their way to let their condemned spend the night alone.
Shaking her head, she signals the Doctor to wait behind her as she eyes the darkness between the buildings surrounding the clearing. She doesn't detect any movement and what sounds she hears are typical of a slumbering village. The soft echoes of laughter from the sentries make her smile. It is unlikely that any will notice that their prisoners have been freed until morning.
Satisfied, she draws out her knife and runs across the clearing and leaps over the low wall to reach the side of the one who claims to be the Doctor. "Keep quiet," she warns softly as she starts to saw at his bindings.
Despite the sharpness of her knife, it takes a few minutes to break through the ropes holding the man to the post. Once freed, he startles her when he pulls her into a brief, but tight, embrace. She thinks she feels the double-beat of his hearts against her chest before he pulls away to reach out and pick up a metal stick of some sort from the wall. Still astonished by the gesture of affection from a stranger, she doesn't move from her position as he joins the Doctor in freeing Rose.
She winces as the loud hum fills the clearing — it is a miracle that even the most inattentive of sentries don't hear the sound. Yet as quickly as the sound filled the clearing, it's gone, along with the ropes that held Rose to the post.
"This way," Leela says, gesturing towards the woods. "We can talk when we are away from here."
Nodding, the three silently follow her out of the village, their escape as of yet undetected. Despite this fact, she picks up the pace once they're past the buildings. It is not wise to tempt fate.
She flinches each time a twig breaks behind her, evidence of the floundering of her companions in the dark. There will be a trail left in their wake that even the least skilled of trackers could follow come morning. Once she decides that they are far enough away from the village so as to not be overheard, she slows to a stop in a likely clearing for the night. "We will stay here and return to the TARDIS in the morning," she declares. In the faint moonlight, she can see the others move about the clearing and settle themselves on the ground.
"Where did you park?" the man asks. She is still uncomfortable with the idea of him possibly being the Doctor. Yet the embrace seems to imply that he knows her well.
"Oh, over there somewhere," the Doctor replies, gesturing vaguely to the right.
"That is incorrect," she says. "The TARDIS is in that direction." She moves her hand to the left.
"Hmm. We're in that direction," the man says, gesturing to the right. "We'll go our separate ways come morning, then. Get some sleep, Rose."
"Are you sure?" Rose asks.
"It is safe," Leela replies, guessing at her reluctance. "I will keep watch."
"You'll need to sleep too, Leela. I can keep watch as well as you can," the Doctor tells her, the flash of white from his teeth almost startling in the darkness.
"No. I will remain awake," she counters. She is more accustomed to this than he is. Besides, she wants to keep an eye on the stranger.
The man smiles at her. "Ever the warrior, eh, Leela? Still don't believe it's me? When this happened it was, what, just after you encountered the Fendahl?"
She blinks, astonished. "That is correct. How can you know this?"
"Oh, now that's a simple answer. A very, very simple answer. I know because it's me — the Doctor. It's been a few centuries since I last wore that scarf and you've got to admit that I've got better teeth, but it's still me. I do have some fantastic Chucks, though." The man sticks out his foot for her inspection.
"Then you are the Doctor. No-one else I know can talk as much as you without saying anything at all," she says.
The man — no, the Doctor — grins. "Yup!"
When morning comes, it brings with it all the assorted aches and pains that being tied up and then sleeping on hard ground can bring. Rose is fairly certain that there's a branch poking her in a spot that it has no business being, but besides that she actually feels rather good. Then again, not dying is always a good thing.
There's something stroking her hair. It takes a moment for her sleep-muddled mind to realise that it's the Doctor's hand. Sometime during the night, he must've drawn her closer to him so she could rest on his lap. While it isn't the most comfortable of positions, she wouldn't've changed it for the world.
It's tempting to ignore the daylight for a little while longer, but she decides against it. They should get going before the villagers decide to start looking for their missing prize. "Morning," she says and her words are immediately followed by a yawn.
"Morning," he replies and his hand is withdrawn. He helps her to her feet and she brushes off the dust and debris that are clinging to her clothes.
Before she can ask where Leela and the other Doctor are, she sees them coming back into the clearing.
"The villagers are not looking in this direction," Leela says, disgust written all over her face. "They do not have trackers of any merit. An army could walk past their village without them knowing it."
"Good for us, yeah?" she replies.
"Yes." Leela nods. "We can return to the TARDIS now."
She looks at the Doctor, a bit confused given his earlier comments about what normally happens when he meets his earlier selves. "So that's it? We jus' go back to our respective TARDISes and nothing else is going to happen? Nothing destructive or violent? No explosions or alien threats? Jus' a rescue, a thanks and off we go?"
"Oi! It's not always like that. Well, okay, most of the time it is. S'pose the universe owed me one," he replies defensively.
"So nothing else is going to go wrong?" She shouldn't ask that question, she knows she shouldn't. That's only asking for trouble.
The curly-haired Doctor gives her a curious glance. "What else could go wrong?"
"Doctor! There is-" Leela begins and she hears something that sounds suspiciously like a roar. A very loud, angry roar.
"New rule," her Doctor says, glaring at his fourth incarnation. "Never, ever say that again."
"Um, Doctor?" Rose says, eyes widening as she stares at the huge dinosaur-like thing that is bearing down on them. "I think now'd be a good time to run."
"There's something very large, very dangerous and very hungry coming at us from behind me, right?" her Doctor asks.
She nods.
"Good point," he replies and reaches out for her hand. Once their fingers are securely entwined, he gives her a manic grin that's all too reminiscent of his past self. "Run for your life!" he shouts as Leela and the Doctor's fourth incarnation race off to the left.
One of these days, they're going to have an adventure that doesn't end up involving them getting captured or running for their lives. It's going to happen.
Just not today.
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