"If you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can't stop you, you become something else entirely." - Henri Ducard, Batman Begins

"It doesn't look that far in the future," Martha says, looking around at the way people are dressed and the cars that drive by. Well, the cars that stand at a complete halt, actually. Considering the sheer number of people huddled around them in the biting cold.

The Doctor isn't all that cold. He's survived much worse (he lived in Wales for a time during the 70's), so this might as well be spring instead of late January, he says. They sit on top of the Lincoln Memorial, legs dangling over the edge as they look through binoculars to the procession taking place quite a distance away. Not an inch of ground is visible between them and the event, the entire area---Mall, the Doctor corrects Martha---is swarmed with people.

"The estimate is around two million people," the Doctor says, popping a chip into his mouth.

"Really? Two million people?"

"Historical event. People have flown in from all over the world to witness it."

"And we've gone eighty five light years from Tanezea."

"I told you it was just around the corner."

"And you won't tell me when this is?"

"Of course not. Spoilers."

"Yeah, spoilers, right." She looks back through the binoculars. "Won't the secret service worry about a great big blue box up there?"

The Doctor shakes his head. "I've got a cloaking device on us and the TARDIS, so we've got…well, relatively the best seats in the house."

"Couldn't an alien race do that, too? All these people in one place is like a target---"

"Are you really planning on worrying this whole time? This is history, Martha. Enjoy it." He sniffs. "Besides, UNIT is watching overhead for any alien threats."

"What's UNIT?"

"Just watch."

Martha sighs and looks back through the binoculars. She can't see very well, but she's got a fairly good idea of what's going on. The speaker systems in this time are a lot better than when the Doctor took her to see Martin Luther King Jr's speech last week.

"Everyone seems so excited to see him elected," Martha says, looking down at the people waving American flags. "Haven't seen anybody so excited since the election back home. But that's going to be a landslide victory."

The Doctor nods. "This was a landslide for them, too. By popular vote, of course. The voting system in America makes even less sense than the Zygon voting system and you have to take eighteen years of political studies to even be able to discuss politics on Zygon."

Martha nods. "It's a real change for America."

"Britain's next to break the racial boundaries. We'll drop off a few years in the future after lunch, watch that."

"You've been on a real political kick lately," Martha raises an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asks.

Martha snorts. "1776, the first session of Parliament, Martin Luther King Jr., the first woman Prime Minister, the first woman President, now this?"

"I thought it'd be educational."

"It is! I just don't know why the interest."

The Doctor looks away, then back into his binoculars. "Call it a feeling."

"What sort of a feeling?"

"Just watch!"

Martha watches for a moment, then turns back to him. "Is this the beginning of a golden age? I know you love golden ages for us little humans."

"Hardly," the Doctor says, offhandedly. "Things get far worse for the world before they get better."

"But they do get better?"

"Are you going to watch or would you rather I just get you a history book?"

Martha makes a face. "I thought you liked books."

"I like being part of history even more."

The crowd roars with excitement as the President-elect steps up to the podium to be sworn in. Martha can't properly see his face from the distance, but she squints through the binoculars. She can see a tall, slim man put his hand on the bible, while a woman in a gold dress looks over his shoulder.

And he's sworn in. The 44th President of the United States (though the Doctor reaches over and covers Martha's ears before she can get his name). Race is mentioned more than a few times by those announcing him and swearing him in.

Her mother wouldn't believe it if she told her.

Then, the speech. Martha's never even seen this politician before, much less heard him speak. But considering the incredible problems going on in America in this time period, the new President has a lot to say and he does it all in only a few words. It's surprisingly quite moving. She watches as emotion ripples through the crowd and she can feel how people react when he talks. It's more than just knowing what's said, it's smelling the cold air and feeling the crowd and being there. Right there, right in the middle of history.

"It's good, isn't it?" the Doctor asks as Martha watches.

Martha grins. "Yeah. Better than any history book."

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 773
Note: The mun is a DC citizen and is feeling fairly patriotic.
Also, thanks to [livejournal.com profile] marthajonesmd for randomly mentioning wanting Martha at the inauguration and thus inspiring this. You'd better write one, too!

"We're only just beginning, you know," he says.



"It's long since been over, you know," he says.



He shuffles out the cards.
He knows what he's handing to the old man on his left, but he's extremely curious about the cards to the old man on his right.


"You could just ask, you know."



"Finding out now would simply spoil the end for you, young man."



"I think I can figure it out for myself, thank you."


He adjusts his spectacles and toys with a cane between his fingers.



He straightens his black collar and wears an eternally twisted smile.



He looks down at his cards.
Rubbish hand, two eights, an ace, a three and a four.
He sighs and scratches his sideburns.


"Skaro." He tosses a chip to the center.



"That bad a hand, is it?" The twisted smile becomes more of a smug smirk.



"Hmmm? Were you trying to be witty there?"
His expression turns nothing if not more sour.



"Technically, Skaro is rather valuable in its historical context."


"I don't think that's technically yours to bet."



"I think I will bet what I like."



"I could bet the stars of Asteroth, but it doesn't mean I could shell them out should I lose."



"Ah, see, but I don't aim to lose."



"Funny that you will anyway."



Gentlemen, please. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 746

It's hot.

Broiling.

His suit is like an oven, his hands feel like they're being cooked as he holds onto the side of the airlock, his hair is matted and wet from sweat and the sun is baking down on him. They're so close to the sun, now.

But his blood just ran cold.

He can see it. See the sun, see it swirl and move and twist. Bright red coronal loops and white prominent arches move against an ocean of orange and yellow. Streaks of amber against the darkened embers of red and the brilliant light all swirling and moving and screaming. The sun is writhing in pain. Pain because it isn't just a sun. It's a creature.

"It's alive."

He sees it reaching, reaching out for the ship. Reaching out for him. He steps backwards into the airlock. It's alive and aggressive. His eyes burn from the sunlight, from how bright it is. Brighter than any typical gaseous sun. He turns away and shuts the door. Gravity restores itself and he feels the woosh as air follows it. Safe now. Well, hardly safe now, but all the same. Inside now. Now he can burn with the rest of them when the ship collapses.

Burn With Me. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,072
Inspired by this ficlet by [livejournal.com profile] marthajonesmd.

You will always think of her as your companion.

It's the way you are with all of your companions, all of the ones who have traveled with you. They never stop being your companion, never gain a "former" in front of their title, not to you. Once they step foot in the TARDIS and become yours it's all but impossible for you to give them up.

Even though now you're certain she's ready to give you up.

You sit in the console room with her key between your fingers, turning it over and over. She gave it back to you when you told her you'd need to make more copies of it. The Master had destroyed yours and Jack's, of course. Pieces of the TARDIS; you were able to feel them break as if he were tearing off your fingernails.

He relished in your pain.

But now the key is just Martha's key, the other TARDIS keys made from it easily. It still has the little chips on it, still has the perception filter that kept her alive when the world was too dangerous for her to be anything but a legend, a walking ghost along the streets of Earth.

She was invisible because she had to be.

You look down at the little chips, the grooves in the key that could've come from anything, and you wonder what parts of her chipped off, as well. Your brilliant, broken companion. Like the key, you modified her and used her and now she's invisible even though she isn't wearing it anymore.

You close your eyes and grind your teeth. No, she felt invisible before she put this key on. She was invisible to you.

"She loves you, you know." It was Jack, of course, who came up to you as you set the keys and ground them into place. Your hand slipped a little, but you managed not to break anything. You can't figure out what made Jack approach you. Maybe Martha said something to him---no, no, that's not like Martha. Jack's always been a mystery. He had his own reasons.

At the time, you glanced at him over your glasses quickly, and then went back to your work. You thought about playing dumb, but after everything you three have been through it feels like it would be more of an insult. And not just to Jack.

"I know." That was enough for Jack at the time and he left without another word.

She opens the door to the TARDIS and steps towards you with a purpose. You do know, you think, even as she's grown layer upon layer over herself for protection. Of course you know.

She extends her hand to take the key and you reach out to give it to her. Maybe you've always known. Maybe it's been easier to know and not to admit it because that would mean you have to do something about it. That admission to Jack means you can't just hang in limbo. You have to decide if you want----what you want.

You don't want Martha to be invisible.

She's too brilliant. She's done too much. She means too much. You'd still be a pet of the Master's and your favorite planet would be a cinder if not for her.

She's everything that you love about humans rolled into one person. Brave and smart and creative and occasionally silly and a little bit foolish and overly ambitious and strong and a dreamer and imaginative…she falls in love too quickly and she clings to the things she cares for too tightly and you'd never, ever want her to change.

You take the key back, pull out your sonic screwdriver, and wave it over the modifications. The cloak the key held vanishes instantly and it becomes just another TARDIS key, albeit one with scratches and old wounds.

Then, you hand it back to her.

"You don't need to be invisible anymore."

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 658
You hate this suit. Cut for spoilers to 4.13, 'Journey's End'. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 962
Special thanks to [livejournal.com profile] ambitious_woman for the plot suggestion. You are a brilliant inspiration.
Anatomy of a Scene. Cut for spoilers to 4.10 'Midnight'. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 700 not including dialogue from 4.10 'Midnight'
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