for quitehomoerotic: Welcome to the Sahara Desert

[rude_not_ginger]

follows this.

The Doctor woke only a few short hours later and found himself positively disappointed at his lack of dreams. He'd spent years asleep without dreams, and now, when he really wanted them, he still had nothing. No memories, no twisting nightmares, not even a good brain-dump of nonsensical mental garbage. Just nothing. He was asleep next to Jack on the bed, and then he was awake.

He sighed. His memory was still swiss-cheesed with missing parts of the last two hundred years, but there seemed to be more gaps filled in. And that was something, wasn't it? It meant maybe a few more nights of dreamless sleep and he'd be back to himself completely.

He just hoped there weren't more memories like Mars to discover.

He looked over to Jack, asleep next to him. This was what Jack loved the most, he said. Not sleeping alone. Not being alone. In that instant, the Doctor understood it.

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"Not a storm at least," he said. "Something's stirring that up."

He popped the rest of the food in his mouth and continued walking. He glanced back at the TARDIS, darkly blue against the bright red sand. It wouldn't be too hard to find her again, he promised himself.

"I think it must be something large. A military convoy, maybe? Though what they'd be doing this far out into the Megastro Sector wouldn't make any sense. This is a peaceful part of the universe."

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"That's if we're in the Megastro Sector," Jack pointed out, turning his head towards the Doctor. "I don't think you intended to land us in the middle of a desert. Maybe something else pulled us here. Wherever here is."

He squinted again and lifted his hand above his eyes to get a better look at the sand out in the distance.

"There's no such thing as a peaceful part of the universe," Jack went on, sounding more than a little jaded. "There never has been."

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"Have you had any problems with that happening before?" the Doctor asked. "We had---at least, I think, we had it happen before. And the storms. All the time."

He reached a hill and struggled up the side, nearly slipping on the sand. "But not when we were apart. Just when we were together."

But there were still big holes in his memory. Maybe they'd already uncovered the answer to it and the Doctor had missed it.

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"The storms follow us," Jack said, somewhat ominously. "And yeah, only when we're together. Whatever's doing it wants both of us. And we don't know who, or why."

He glanced up at the sky. Clear blue, without even the hint of a cloud. "Nothing today though. Not yet anyway. But something must have brought us here."

Taking a look over his shoulder he glanced back at the TARDIS. What could have diverted her like that? Who?

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A smaller dust cloud shot ahead of the larger one. The Doctor covered his eyes to try to see out that far. He got the strangest feeling. It was a feeling like they should run.

"Think they're sending out a scout car," the Doctor said. "I think we should go back."

This time, he genuinely meant it. Something was coming straight for them without diverting course. He turned on heel and started back down the slope of sand.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack was surprised. More than a little surprised. The Doctor never stopped. He never turned around and went back, even when he knew he should. It should have worried him. Was it because he didn't quite know himself yet or was it something more than that?

He turned on his heel to follow the Doctor, walking after him, not arguing with his statement. He was quite happy to go back to the TARDIS. It was too soon for all of this, for both of them.

But then just as he stepped forward, the strap on his wrist started to bleep. "Doctor," he called, flicking it open and looking down at it. "The convoy are hailing us."

It was a message for the TARDIS, just getting to him first. A message for the Doctor.

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The Doctor skidded to a halt, nearly falling into the sand as he did so. He straightened, affecting a cat-like look of 'I meant to do that'.

He looked over Jack's shoulder at his wrist strap. "Hailing us? Do they think we're lost out here or something?"

Something tickled the back of his mind, something he should've remembered but wasn't entirely sure about.

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"Well I say hailing us..." Jack said, glancing back up towards him. "Looks like this one's for you."

He pressed a button and a message started repeating in front of him.

"Take a look."

Doctor, knew I'd find you eventually. We need to talk. Bea.

Doctor, knew I'd find you eventually. We need to talk. Bea.

Doctor, knew I'd find you eventually. We need to talk. Bea.

He pressed a button and shut it off.

"Still want to go back?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Well, that depends," the Doctor said. He looked back out to the rolling dust and the huge thing that was slowly getting closer, then the small thing, which as it came into view looked an awful lot like a small speedboat.

Whoever they were, they were coming for Jack and the Doctor. And whoever they were, they were coming because they'd been found. But the question was---

"Who is Bea?"

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Jack looked at the Doctor and he felt his heart sink. Oh it was all going wrong already wasn't it?

He took a long sigh.

"I've got no idea. Doesn't ring any bells at all?"

Looking back towards the sand the approaching craft was getting closer still. "Whoever it is, looks like we're about to find out."

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"Nope," the Doctor said. "Though if she does know me, she might be from my future, like River Song. We've talked about River Song, haven't we?" If they hadn't, he imagined that would have to be a very long, very awkward conversation for another day.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and he immediately found them curled around a thin chain he didn't recognize. The handkerchief he remembered belonging to Bess, the note was from Madame du Pompadour, the cufflinks from Jack, but this...

He pulled the chain out. A necklace, and one he didn't recognize. It was small and fragile and broken at the clasp, as if someone had pulled it off quickly and roughly. dangling from the chain was a set of eight letter charms.

Beatrice.

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"Yeah I know who River is," Jack said somewhat exasperatedly. He knew her, yes, though mostly not from what the Doctor had said but from his encounters with her a long time ago And really, she was a woman he needed to be in the right sort of mood to talk about. He suspected the Doctor, in his way, felt the same.

He watched the Doctor, and moved a step over to look at the item he pulled from his pocket. He felt a silent pang of jealousy. He knew the Doctor kept his cufflinks, how many other people's keepsakes did he have?

"Guess you do know her then," he said. "Your call. You want to go back, or stay?"

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The Doctor looked down at the necklace. He didn't recognize it, but he didn't recognize the handkerchief or the note at first, either. Or even the cufflinks, which he kept for the last two hundred years to remind him of Jack. This necklace meant something. And this Bea meant something, too. Well, obviously, considering she was trying to find him.

"Stay," he said, tucking it back into his pocket. "Can't miss out on an old friend, can I?"

He took a few steps forward and waved at the boat, which was slowing down as it came towards them. Seven armed men on the back in bulbous black helmets turned their weapons to them.

"At least, I hope it's a friend."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack straightened his back up a little. Adventure was one thing, and even a bit of mystery could be fun, but this felt vaguely, well, uncomfortable. There was something missing, and something big, so what could it be?

The convoy approached and two of them men hopped off the side, guns levelled out as soon as they stepped off.

"The Doctor?" one of them demanded with a muffled voice. "We've been instructed to collect you. Come with us."

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"That's me," the Doctor said, taking a step forward and a slight step to the left, to block the fire from Jack. "Who's calling for the collection, then?"

The message made it very clear who it was. And the necklace made it very clear that whoever it was mattered to the Doctor, so why the guns? Why the anonymity? Why wasn't this Bea person showing up on her own?

One of the guards pulled the hammer back on their gun. It was a clean-barrel laser rifle, something he knew wasn't manufactured until the 23rd century on Earth, and certainly didn't make it out into the stars until the mid 25th. So they were either on Earth in the 23rd century, or on a planet elsewhere two hundred years later.

The Doctor's mind had been so focused on the gun, he almost forgot they were being threatened on board.

"Oh, right."

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Jack huffed quietly to himself. The Doctor trying to protect him; a completely idiotic move considering a bit of gunfire wouldn't do much than kill him. It would do much worse to the Doctor.

"Hope you don't mind if I tag along," Jack said overly casually, his hands shoved in his pockets as he followed him up and moved to climb aboard.

He shot the Doctor a look and with a little concentration, spoke to him silently. Don't do anything stupid.

"So," he said to one of the guards. "What's this party the Doctor's got an express invite to?"

"His presence is requested," one of the guards said. He noted their guns were on the Doctor now, not him, and that feeling didn't fill him with comfort. "Why you pointing those at him?" he asked.

"Because we know how dangerous he is."

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The Doctor heard Jack speak, and turned to him, but no words were coming out of his mouth. It was a thought, from Jack to the Doctor, and it went smoothly across their connection. It was a little startling. No, no, actually, it was rather startling.

He concentrated and thought back to him. When do I ever?

Then, to the guards, he gave a wide grin. "Ooooh, so my reputation proceeds me, then? I like it when my reputation proceeds me. I always get a bit more attention than when it doesn't."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack couldn't help but smirk a little to himself. He glanced down and shoved his hands in his pockets before looking back up and over to the Doctor. Oh most days.

"Take it my reputation doesn't proceed me then? Well, that certainly knocks a guy down to Earth. Reputation? No? Not even a bad one?"

None of the guards even turned to look at him, and so he went and sat on the edge of a bench, somewhat dejected.

"So this Beatrice," he said. "Run the joint, does she?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The men utterly ignored Jack, and that made the Doctor even more irritated. If this Beatrice traveled with him during the time that Jack was sleeping on board, wouldn't she be anticipating Jack's arrival, too? And why the anger? Why the utter hatred? Was she like Bess, who---who hated him for reasons that were missing from his mind?

But why would she give him her necklace, then? And why was it broken?

"Suppose that's something we're going to find out," the Doctor said to Jack, giving him a nod." He leaned over to one of the guards. "By the way. Where'd we get pulled to?"

"The Sahara Desert."

"Mmmm. Lovely spot. Any reason you all are traveling this way?"

The guard ignored him and barked at one of the others. "Sand shield up. We're nearing the ship."

"Ship?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"The Sahara!" Jack said with mock enthusiasm. "If I'd have known I'd have brought my camel."

He looked around at the space around them. The guards that milled around and obviously saw him as no threat. Well that was their first mistake, of course, they really had no idea who they were dealing with.

The guard glanced towards the Doctor and took a step out towards a panel on the wall. He lifted a receiver and put it to his ear. "Yes ma'am," he said, "he's here. But he's not alone. We'll bring them."

Jack grinned tight lipped over to the Doctor.

Any bells ringing over here?

There was a loud noise outside of something heavy hitting and locking against something else, and three of the guards came back and surrounded the Doctor, two reaching down to grab his arms and stand him up.

"Follow us."

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"Hey, now, that's not necessary, I'm not planning on running away," the Doctor said. Which was, of course, an utter lie. He planned on running just as fast as he could...the moment that he knew what the hell was going on here. Curiosity, it seemed, would forever be his downfall.

Several, but most of them are warning bells. Did I ever talk about a Beatrice? Ever?

This was actually nice, he thought. Being able to have a private conversation with Jack with guards all around them. Speaking of, the guards ignored the Doctor's protests and hoisted him to his feet.

The door slid open, revealing a long, metal corridor that apparently repelled the warmth from the outside utterly. It was almost cold in there.

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"Ooh goodie, can I come?" Jack asked as he started to follow. He was watched by one guard, but it was little more than a cursory glance. He wasn't what they wanted, that was sure.

Not even once. And I'm pretty sure we've got to the point you tell me things.

It was still relatively new being able to talk to the Doctor like that, and Jack thought how good it was, and how many times in their past it would have come in useful.

I could just take them all out you know. He smirked a little, though the way they had the Doctor surrounded, he undoubtedly wouldn't see.

They walked ahead into the cooled and sanitary corridor, and they opened a door up, inside was a bench against the wall, they stepped the Doctor over to it and forcibly sat him down.

"Wait here."

Jack followed in and stood in the doorway. He suspected he could have quite easily left without being noticed. Odd.

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He sat, awkwardly, on the bench, feeling almost like he was a student about to be chastised. No cuffs, no checking for weapons. Beatrice must've known him well enough, at least.

Don't you dare. The way the Doctor spoke internally was surprisingly aggressive, his voice inside translating the anger he didn't normally show to Jack. But Jack was his responsibility. Jack was the person he needed to protect from himself.

Maybe, in that way, he could also save himself. Was that the sort of man the Doctor was, now? Saving people in order to save himself?

You could try walking past them. If they're androids, they may not be programmed to recognize you.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

They're not androids. They're just idiots. And don't worry, I'll keep my hands to myself. Just a suggestion.

The men backed away from the door, and Jack stepped in, just long enough to let them pass by. They moved out and the door, heavy and thick, was closed behind them. No visible lock from the inside, so some sort of holding area.

Back on the wall, a video screen flashed into life. There was a camera above it, pointed towards the Doctor, and as the screen flickered a couple more times an image settled on it. The head and shoulders of a woman, young, blonde, pretty with almost delicate features. She wasn't smiling.

"There you are," she said. "Knew I'd find you."

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The Doctor looked at the woman and felt absolutely nothing. She was pretty enough, he supposed, though he couldn't recognize her at all. She scowled.

"Oh, don't look so surprised," she said.

"It's not surprise," the Doctor assured her. "It's more confusion."

She snorted at that. "As in why would I ever want to see you again?"

"That, too."

The Doctor shot a look over at Jack. Who was this woman?