It has been an absolutely mad day.

The Doctor stands there, finally having found the crystal shard of Mandubas II and destroyed it, saved Rose from the evil forces of Getrishak, and kept Mickey generally out of trouble. The three of them stand now at their long-sought destination: The hidden UNIT watering hole outside of London.

This was, of course, where they had originally intended to go, before the forces of Getrishak stepped in the way, their commandeered vehicle was commandeered by UNIT, and Rose’s brain was nearly suffocated by an evil telepathic force.

“Not as impressive as I thought it’d be,” Rose says, letting out a little exhausted sigh as she looks around the tiny pub, adorned with black-and-white photographs of UNIT personnel, with a few old-fashioned pistols and alien artifacts framed up as well.

“Oi,” the Doctor says, looking over to her. “When I worked for UNIT, this was the prime place to go after work. We used to have the entire group here! Me, Liz, Benton, Yates---“

“Doesn’t look like it’s such a hot spot now,” Mickey says, wiping the entrails off of his face. It’s true. The entire pub is empty, save for a tired looking bartender, who has long since learned not to be impressed with anything the old scientific advisor might pull while here.

“That’s because everyone’s gone on a 24-hour workday schedule,” a booming voice says from behind them. “Leaves very little time for recreation.”

The trio turns around. Behind them stands an older man, probably in his late seventies, dressed smartly in an old UNIT uniform. It doesn’t fit him like it used to, but he’s still quite formidable. An old soldier, back in his old stomping grounds.

“That’s him!” Mickey says. “That’s the bloke who took the car!”

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” the man says, handing over a set of keys. “But this young man was stealing a UNIT vehicle during a UNIT crisis. We had no choice but to take it back in order to carry our people out.”

“You pointed a gun at me!” Mickey squeaks.

The Doctor, unaffected by Mickey’s squeaking, takes the keys. “Brigadier,” he says. “You recognize me, then?” He breaks into a huge, toothy grin.

“Of course,” the Brigadier says. “Who else could it be?”

Fair point.

“You know this guy?” Rose asks, leaning into the Doctor’s shoulder.

“Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart,” the Doctor says.

“The Doctor was our scientific advisor,” the Brigadier says. “And the moment old Arty back there saw you’d arrived, they called me. In case of disaster.”

“I can’t imagine why,” the Doctor says, and by the tone of his voice, it’s apparent he really doesn’t.

“But I’m getting too old for this, Doctor,” the Brigadier says. “I think it’s about time I left this life for the new generation. Including that doctor you sent over to us.”

“What doctor?” the Doctor asks.

The Brigadier, perhaps unwittingly being pulled by the fabric of time, doesn’t answer, he merely turns to head towards the door.

“Where will you go?” Rose asks.

“Nevermind that!” Mickey says, flailing. “He pulled a gun on me!”

The Brigadier smiles, then pulls out a pair of sunglasses, which he smoothly slips on.

He grins. “Deal with it.”

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 538
For Nicholas Courtney, who was the most badass companion ever. He deserves his own meme.
"I didn't know you painted."

The Doctor, who was not presently painting, looked up from the book he'd been reading. Yes, by all accounts Twilight was a worthless novel, but the war of the Team Jacobs versus the Team Edwards was a huge part of the mid 21st century Earth culture, and he figured it was really about time he gave a read to figure out what that nonsense was all about. The only thing the Doctor had worked out was that Earth women made no sense and Charlie really needed his own series.

"I…do?" he asked.

Rose stepped from the back room, producing a piece of canvas with a hillside and a castle painted to it. It was incomplete, and it took the Doctor a few moments to register that it was, in fact, something he had done during one of the many "time to find myself" periods of his sixth life. It was the same time in his life that he'd learned how to knit, draw, paint, do ceramics, and play the vuvuzula. It was also the period in his life where he suffered the most thwacks on the head with a vuvuzula wielded by Evelyn Smythe.

"Ah, yes," he said, slipping off his glasses. "Yeah, that's one of mine. How did you know? I'd have taken it for a Rembrant. Or a Van Gogh. Well, not really impressionistic enough for a Van Gogh, I suppose."

"You didn't clean the brushes, but they have your name on them," Rose explained. "Where is this?"

"Outside of France," he said. "Early 5th century. It was my favorite place to take tea, so I started painting there."

Why haven't you finished? )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,294
for [ profile] roseoflegend
He used to love surprises.

Near-death escapes and new aliens with really bad tempers and running, running, running. He loved every moment, he loved everything. There was nothing he couldn't do. Nothing. He could save anyone, he could save everyone. He could rewrite the stars and tell a few jokes over tea in the TARDIS.

He was so happy.

Now, he's just tired.

One failure after another, one heartbreak after another, and he's alone and he's tired. He's so tired. He's so tired of failing, he's so tired of losing. His body sags and his shoulders slump and he just feels old.

He's been old for a very long time. He just feels it. Looks it.

It's why she doesn't recognize him, he thinks. Why the new him, when he regenerates for her in two years, why she doesn't notice it's the same man who told her she'd have a great year in 2005. He doesn't look the way he used to at all.

He used to love her, he thinks, watching her run off to her home. The blonde girl with a wide smile and a young soul. She complimented him in so many ways, and when she held his hand, he felt like she's repaired something that was long since broken.

But now, watching her at the start of her journey when he's at the end, he thinks he might just hate her a little bit. Hate her because of how much he envies her. She has all of those good times to look forward to, and he can't see them anymore through the haze of the bad.

He used to love the universe. All of it, every single star and every single planet was beautiful and amazing. He used to love the tricks it would throw at him, the secrets it would reveal. Now, he---he doesn't hate the universe, but he almost did. He almost hated the universe and the things it made him suffer so much that he would rip it open. Rip it open because he deserved to do what he wanted, rather than what was right.

A bolt of pain shoots through him. His insides are liquefying, the radiation is shutting him down and he's about to regenerate. And while he doesn't love the universe like he used to, he certainly doesn't want to destroy it by pulling the blonde girl from her fixed point in time. An explosion like he imagines he's about to create will do just that.

He starts back towards the TARDIS. He started here. Here, in this regeneration, crashing the ship not a few feet from where he's stumbling to.

He used to love this life. Now, he clings to it like an addict to their drug. He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to give up. He doesn't want to lose all the things he's had.

But it's too late. He's lost his love of his youth. He's lost his love of her. He's lost his love of the universe.

It's time to start over.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 503
He is not a sexual man.

It's not because sex is unpleasant for his species. On the contrary, he's had encounters with those of his own kind that've brought him to mind-blowing pleasure. Even with a human, or another alien species, sexual acts are (in general), incredibly pleasing. The rush of blood, the heightened nerves, it's all very nice.

It's also not because of the general taboo about sex in his culture. Yes, it's ingrained in the minds of all Time Tots that sex is a barbaric and disgusting act, and yes, he sat in on a number of those classes. And yes, he did wear the high-neck head garment of the Time Lord, the one that blocked from view the immensely taboo back of the neck, where a Gallifreyan derived a good deal of sexual pleasure. But, really, the disgust his people found in sex fueled his desires, in his youth. His need to be rebellious made him far more promiscuous than his fellows, occasionally taking a lover (or even two!) every decade or so.

It's not even because of how messy the act is. Fluids and sweat and all sorts of things going into it just make the whole thing seem really unappealing, but he's been through far worse, really. And, if one charted out sexual pleasure versus messiness, the pleasure is far greater than the cost of a shower and a change of clothes or bedcovers.

It's just that the act…doesn't really interest him.

There are far more fascinating things out there, far more worlds to explore, more thoughts to have. Aliens and stars and nebulas and oh-yes-the-world-is-ending-didn't-you-notice? He can't really focus on that sort of thing when he's got so much thinking to do.

But humans! It's like a bloody disease with them! Cut for explicit sexual situations. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 2,234

The summer air was heavy and sweet
You and I on a crowded street
There was music everywhere, I can see us there
In a happy little foreign town
Where the stars hung upside down
A half a world away, far far away
I remember you were laughing
We were so in love, we were so in love

And the band played song's that we'd never heard
But we danced anyway

"Oh, come on, Doctor, you have to admit this is great," Rose says. She tucks herself next to him, pressing her hand against the tight leather coat covering his crossed arms.

"I didn't say it wasn't good, I just think that parties celebrating the death of another species aren't ones I want to go to."

They'd landed on Yettico Prime earlier that day. The air was thick with perfumed flowers and a heavy atmosphere. It might've even been too heavy to stay, but Jack, being himself, managed to find a brilliant party on the other end of the mountain (right after Rose, being herself, managed to stumble into a number of dangerous men that they had to run from). And now, standing on this illuminated rock face as the twin suns set, it really was lovely.

Not that the Doctor would admit it. It was something one of the men had said, about how the party tonight was a celebration of the destruction of Gallifrey and the end of the Tyrrany. The Tyrrany of the Time Lords, not that Jack and Rose realized that.

"You could at least try to have fun," Rose pleaded.

"Nah, forget about him, Rose, let's dance." Jack reaches out a hand for her, giving her one of his widest grins. He shot a quick look to the Doctor, and then pointedly nodded before taking Rose out onto the part of the dance floor that had been cleared away.

Jack is cleverer than he lets on, it's one of the reasons the Doctor likes him so much, despite everything. Maybe he saw how that man's words affected the Doctor. Jack nods again, looking to the Doctor, and then to something behind him. Or, maybe he just noticed something the Doctor needs to take care of.

Following where Jack had nodded, the Doctor turns around. Standing off in the corner is a woman he hadn't noticed before. Petite, with long, blonde hair. She has her eyes fixed to him, though she stays just on the edge of the party. It's impossible. She can't be standing there, looking at him the way she is.

Before he realizes it, his feet have taken him towards her, until he's only a few feet away.

"Romana," he breathes. "That's impossible, you can't---"

"There isn't any time," she says. "Just listen to me, please."

"You can't be alive," he insists. He's grieved for so long over this, it's impossible, she can't---

"I'm not," she agrees. "This is all just a folded moment of time. Because I have to warn you, Doctor."

"Warn me?" he asks, shaking his head. "Warn me about what? Romana, you're alive!"

She sighs in a way that is utterly familiar to him. So put upon, so frustrated by his inability to listen. He thinks he might remain stubborn, just to watch her make that face again. Just to revel in the familiarity of it.

"You don't believe in prophecies," she says. "But someone will make a prophecy about knocking. Not now, not in this life, but soon. You have to listen to that. The fate of everyone depends on that."

"No one believes in prophecies except the High Council," he says, remaining stubborn for as long as he can.

She doesn't grant him with another one of those irritated expressions, she just looks sad. "Live," she says. "For me, would you?"

He drops the stubborn act and moves right into desperate. She's here, now, she can't go. Not yet.

"Romana, don't---"

"And stop feeling sorry for yourself." She snorts in irritation, and then, like a crease shaken out of a shirt, she vanishes.

He's not sure how long he stands there, staring at the place in front of him where Romana stood. Long enough, because before he's entirely sure what happened, Jack's hand is on his shoulder. He's shooed a curious Rose off to find them something to drink.

"Who was she?" he asks.

No answer is really sufficient. The Doctor takes in a breath and does as Romana asked; he pushes away his self-pity. He doesn't understand what she meant, and he doesn't know what prophecy she's talking about, but one day he will. And today, he'll live. Like she asked.

"A friend," he says. "Just a friend."

Muse: The Doctor (Nine)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 719

So hold her
You may think you know her
I used to be her lover
Yeah, I'm the one who broke her

You'll be her one and only
Don't you ever leave her lonely…

Rose Tyler is sixteen and in love with Jimmy Stone.

Jimmy Stone is a poser rock band wannabe moron and is lucky Rose Tyler even looks in his direction.

The Doctor shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be in this time, in this place. But he is, because time is idiotic like that. Time doesn't work the way the Doctor expects it to.

And so, he's in a bar, trying desperately to stay hidden as sixteen year old Rose Tyler is waving goodbye to Jimmy Stone at his job. When one lands in London in 2004, one should expect to hide from at least a few people. The Doctor peers over his shoulder from where he sits, watching his young companion walk away. He misses her. Misses the person she will be, when he watches her fade from view on that beach in Norway.

But he's not staring. He's just hiding. Well, it starts out as hiding, of course. Then, this lanky, nineteen-year-old fool walks in, ready to start his shift as a bartender. What the hell did Rose see in him? Well, what does Rose see in him?

He knows Jimmy Stone is the reason she never finished her A Levels. He knows she considers him one of her biggest mistakes, but she never told him (will never tell him) why.

So, the Doctor sits at the bar.

This is not his most clever moment, no. But he's curious.

He watches the boy pull a pint for him. Takes in the ugly leather jewelry and the chipping black nail polish. For a sixteen year old, maybe that look is cool. Maybe he's not as much of a loser as he looks.

He's no Time Lord, that's for sure.

Jimmy places the drink in front of the Doctor and turns away. What would the Doctor say to him?

But he doesn't have to think of what to say, because some bulky man walks in, obviously a friend, and starts up a conversation right on the topic the Doctor wanted to talk about.

"Break it off with her yet?" the newcomer says.

"Nah, nah, she'll figure it out," Jimmy says.

The Doctor barges in, taking a drink from his glass. "Breaking up with your girlfriend? Blonde out there? She seemed awfully pretty."

Jimmy doesn't even bat an eye to the Doctor's intrusion, probably used to that sort of thing while working at a bar. "Not my girlfriend. My girlfriend's in Surrey. And yah, breakin' up with her next week. When I get 'round to it."

"For the blonde?"

Jimmy and the other man laugh. "Nah, that's not worth the breakup. That's just Rose. Turns out she's leavin' school, comin' to stay with me, so she thinks. Sixteen years old, dumb as a hat, but she's good for a laugh."

The Doctor feels his hands clench around the glass. Rose is a lot of things, but dumb isn't one of them. "Really?" he says, his voice a forced calm.

"Yeah," Jimmy says, leaning casually by the Doctor. "You know the difference between a toilet seat and a sixteen year old girl from Powell Estate?"

The Doctor has a bad feeling that Jimmy's about to tell him.

Jimmy laughs. "A toilet seat doesn't follow you 'round once you've used it!"

The Doctor's not entirely certain what happened next. At some point the glass in his hand shattered, and Jimmy wound up on the floor with a bruise on his jaw in the shape of the Doctor's fist. Jimmy is stunned that a man so much older and thinner than he is could hit with that level of strength.

The Doctor doesn't hit people. It's not who he is. He doesn't get frustrated to that point. He gets disgusted, but not to the point of violence. But this bastard took Rose's future from her, used her, and then dared to insult her like this.

And the Doctor can't go tell her to stay away from him. She has to suffer through her mistakes and suffer through this piece of scum.

"You know what?" the Doctor said, picking a piece of glass from the palm of his hand. "She'll be the most important woman in the world one day. And you'll still be nothing. Funny, how time works out."

And as he leaves the bar, he passes by a pretty sixteen year old girl, running in to check on her boyfriend after hearing a commotion. She turns as she enters the door, glancing to his back for just a moment.

She doesn’t know him yet. She'll never know why he did this.

Funny, how time works out.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 741



Christmas Eve. 2009.

The Doctor loved Christmas! Back when he was a wee Time Lord, the first place he ever landed was London on Christmas Eve. He promised himself he'd never miss another Christmas ever, but that promise went into the same pile as "Lose weight" and "Regenerate a better hairline" and "Stop leaving companions in other universes". But the Doctor had never quite gotten the hang of New Years'. (He once spent several hours commiserating on the similarity between the confusing nature of New Years and Thursdays with one Arthur Dent, who will sadly not be appearing in this piece of narrative. -editor)

But! Through all his travels in space and time, he still hadn't quite figured out what Christmas was for exactly. Except as a yearly excuse for turkey, too much wine, and plum pudding (all of which the Doctor approved of). This year, though, as he strode the streets on this wonderful Christmas Eve, the Doctor decided he would figure out exactly what Christmas was all about.

This may or may not have included use of a intergalactic manipulative detector and a full pack of radio stellar isotopian crystals. Oh, and a cup of hot chocolate. In a festively-coloured cup.

There was a lovely light snow, and the Doctor grinned madly at the stars. Christmas. This year, he was going to figure out what it was all about.


OOC: Open thread, feel free to tag in as if your character is a passerby or as if your character is a long-standing companion! I'll be working on this thread up until the New Year, most likely! Everyone from any verse (or no verse!) is welcome, just let me know if you'd prefer it from a community or specific universe! And, for this thread, threadhopping is totally welcome!

Happy Holidays, everyone! &hearts

I miss you, you hurt me
You left with a smile
Mistaken, your sadness
Was hiding inside
Now all that's left
Are the pieces to find
The mystery you kept
The soul behind a guise

Where are you
I need you
Don't leave me here on my own
Speak to me
Be near me
I can't survive unless I know you're with me.

Rose thinks it will be hardest when she's standing there, saying goodbye, but it isn't.

Oh, it's hard. It's very hard. She begs him to stay, to come back. She needs him, and maybe she didn't realize it before, maybe that's why she pushed him away so often. But please. Please don't go.

Or maybe it's please go, with us, don’t stay.

But he says he has to.

And who is she to argue? It's not as if he has anything waiting for him back at home. Her mother'll be heartbroken, but she's gotten over far worse. Oh, it'll be hard telling her, and telling his stupid estranged mother, too, but this goodbye should be the hardest.

It isn't.

Rose thinks it will be hardest when the TARDIS takes off, but it isn't.

She hides in her bedroom and slams her eyes shut, trying to block out the hum of the walls and the whirring sensation when she knows they've finally taken off. Taken off and left him behind. Her oldest friend, first lover, favorite cook---why did he have to go? Doesn't he get it?

The Doctor, he gets it. He knows she can be sassy and mean and self-centered but he doesn't care. He doesn't need to be shown love and affection, so why does she have to for him? Can't he get it, too?

But it's too late, and the TARDIS is gone, leaving him behind. That should be it, she thinks. That should be the hardest moment.

It isn't.

Rose thinks it will be hardest when he tries to comfort her, but it isn't.

He's gone, and she didn't realize how important he was until he left. Maybe she didn't get it, didn't realize how much she loved him, or how much he loved her. But now, now that she has no way to say she'll go back to him later, now she wishes he was here, now.

"Maybe it isn't about you," the Doctor says, leaning against the door, watching her cry silently. He sighs. "My first mate, he ran off when we were young. Well, I ran off, but when I came back he was gone. It hurts, but it isn't about---"

"Take me home."

He hops off from where he's leaning, looking at her sadly. "Home?"

"Not forever," she corrects, immediately. "Just to tell my Mum. She needs to know."

He nods, and heads to the console room.

They never discuss it again. She thinks that should be the hardest it will be.

It isn't.

Rose thinks it will be hardest when she has to tell her mother, but it isn't.

Her mum doesn't cry, and that's hard. She just sits there, her brow creasing up in worry, but she doesn't sob, she doesn't even tear up.

"Is he going to be happy, you think?"

Rose can't answer, but the Doctor speaks up. "He will," he says, with all of the confidence of a man who knows time.

"And he'll be safe?" Rose's mum asks. Her voice cracks, just slightly, under the weight of how much she's had to lose, but she still doesn't cry.

The Doctor doesn't answer, because he doesn't know. It's worse, somehow.

And she thinks that will be the hardest, the hardest ever.

It isn't.

It's hardest when he grieves.

It only happens once. Two weeks after they've left, and they've packed up from the place that couldn't possibly have had the real Satan living inside of it, and they're all smiles and excitement.

"And let me tell you," he says. "Mickey the Idiot will be really impressed when I tell him that---"

And that's when he remembers. The smile on his face vanishes.

Mickey the Idiot is gone. He's gone, and they've told everyone who knew him that he's dead. For all they know, he could be.

Without a word, he turns and leaves the console room. He doesn't say where he's going, and she doesn't think to ask him. She just watches him go, wondering what it's like when a Time Lord misses someone.

She wonders what Mickey would think, knowing he's missed.

She doesn't cry this time, she just sits in the console room, lonely.

That's when it's the worst.

Muse: Rose Tyler
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count:
"Absence sharpens love, presence strengthens it."
- Thomas Fuller

He is waiting for Rose Tyler.


He hears her footfall across the grass on the edge of the forest.

There is only so much time, he has to remind himself. For a man accustomed to having all of the time in the universe, it's difficult to remember this. To remember that the time he spends walking to the place in the woods, the time he wastes on small talk, it all takes away from what little time there is.

No time for questions. She practically races across the clearing to him and throws her arms around him before he properly has time to react. She presses against him---crushes against him as she clings with all of the force she can muster.

And there, then, she's holding him. She's holding him and he's holding her and they are old lovers and best friends and lost souls and they are together. They have held each other many times like this before and they will hold each other many times like this again, but for now, right now, it is the first time. It is the only time.

"I missed you," she says.

They only have moments this time. She fades beneath his touch.

It is enough. Cut for explicit sexuality. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 2,087
Partner: (canon) Rose Tyler
"Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon the table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels"
— T. S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Rose Tyler
c/o Torchwood, London

Hello, Rose. Discovered there's a closing rift just large enough for a postcard off of Venus 3, thought I'd let you know how everything is going over here before it closes. Let you know how everything is over here. Because, no matter what Sarah Jane might say, I'm usually the one left by my companions. I don't know what to do, knowing I've left you. Worry, I suppose.

I'm sure you're fine, of course.

Anyway, I don't often buy postcards, but I did find this one stuffed in an old timey-wimey detector I made a few years back. It's from a small motel that Martha and I stayed at in Los Angeles. We weren't entirely sure how long we'd be stuck in 1969, so I took her for a quick trip on an actual plane. Absolutely terrible, I hate flying. But the trip itself was nice. Felt almost human, wandering around, sightseeing, and waiting for a flight back to London.

You should go there, you'd love it. Take a trip with him. Have fun.

Live a good life. I think that's what I'm trying to say.

The Doctor

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 190
For one moment, they're together again (pity these things never last.)
Title: Beginning of An Adventure (A Rainy Days Remix)
Author: [ profile] rude_not_ginger
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Rose, Ten/Rose UST
Rating: G
Summary: The Doctor takes Rose to a new, strange planet where the rain isn't all it appears!
Word Count: 1,771
Original Story: by Dr Victoria Rose
Notes: Special thanks to my darling partner in crime for the beta!


Rose could always tell when they'd landed somewhere new. )
The Doctor has always had a superior olfactory system.


It was one of those things that came with his genetic structure, he supposed. Keen, perfectly-honed senses of a Gallifreyan and the imagination of a human needed to piece out what smells blended with another to mean what.

It was very useful, at times. Discerning what oil was used in which explosive and thus which needs to be diffused first. Sorting out what poison was in which cream puff before obnoxiously popping the un-poisoned one in his mouth. Memorizing the sweet, fragrant smell of the Detrassi Sunflower and then reproducing it to break a password on the sensory-adept computers of Alganqua 7.

It was also a curse, as well. Like should the TARDIS decide to land on the dung planets of Santoir 4 or the onion-worshipping centers of Retrrioo. It was also absolutely terrible when he was forced to take the number 55 bus.

The worst was how hard it made forgetting. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Partner(s): Rose Tyler (canon), Jack Harkness (canon), Martha Jones (canon), Donna Noble (canon)
Word Count: 1,292
Remix Title: Faith (The Long Goodbye Remix)
Remix Author: [ profile] rude_not_ginger
Remixed fic: Faith
Remixed author: [ profile] jellybean728
Characters/Pairings: TenII/Rose UST, Jackie/Pete
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3,237
Summary: Rose and the duplicate Doctor suffer a crisis of his identity at their first Christmas on the other universe. Jackie tries to play matchmaker
A/N is optional: I tried to keep the original author's format and pacing, which was a challenge for me! Hope you like!

It's supposed to be Christmas.

It's the first Christmas they've all been together. Jackie had Pete's household staff set up the huge tree in the main hallway for the company party and she'd picked out her verybest cocktail dress for the occasion. The family's to be there and she's got to look the part of Pete's wife. She'll be showered with praise, compliments, and impossibly expensive presents. Christmas Eve is for the company and for the public.

But it's the family Christmas that she's really, truly excited about )
The screen crackled with disuse as it powered on slowly. So slowly. Too slowly.




Then the face of a man appeared through the haze of static. He was lean, wiry, with scruffy brown hair and deep-set brown eyes. His brown suit was torn with globs of dried blood in places. He kept his head down as he spoke into the small microphone and tapped on the camera into which he was speaking. A blue mist streamed through the ventilation system on the wall behind him and out into the room.

"This is a distress call. We need immediate medical and possibly military help at base 24601 Theta Zed. Repeat. Immediate---" He coughed, thick and wet, and left a splatter of blood across the screen. With a panic, he wiped it away. Then, he took a deep breath and looked straight at the camera.

"This is a distress call. There is a hostile nanogene contagion on this base. Use extreme caution when approaching." He shook his head. "I haven't got much time before I'm infected. Well, probably already infected at this point. Too many injuries." The laugh the man gave was dark and humorless. "The point is, we need help. I need help. I can't stop this alone."

And, from the dark look in the man's eyes, it was apparent that he was alone, now.

"My name is the Doctor. I need immediate assistance at Sanctuary Base 24601 Theta Zed. I need the nanogene code---"

From off camera, there was the sound of a shuffled footstep, and then the distinctive click of a shotgun being set.

The Doctor looked away from the camera to something directly behind it.

He breathed. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

And with that, the camera went dead with a blaze of static. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 6,210 YA RLY
Special thanks to [ profile] galeforcehero for beta.
As the Doctor is never one to forget Rose's Birthday (especially since he put that date in his automatic TARDIS reminder system (ATRS for short---he really should figure out something more pronounceable). However, he realizes while trying to pick out presents that he's really rather rubbish at it. After some help from Claire, he finally gets all his gifts together and puts them in one box. The box is left outside of Rose's room along with a note:

Happy Birthday, Rose.
The Doctor

What is inside the box... )
There's nothing of him left inside me. Nothing. You see, I killed them all. Just as I went back and wiped out the Time Lords, Daleks, Cybermen, Sontarans, the whole lot of them. I traveled back in time to prevent my past selves from making mistakes. I tried to show them how they were passing up the opportunity to attain real power. But each one of those fools preferred their own self-consciously noble, ultimately unsatisfying lifestyles. All of them argued with me, tried to thwart my plans. So I erased them, took them out of existence.

It is London. 24 March 2007. I am at once my current age, somewhere around 2,890, and at equal times my tenth self at around 1,207 (though I believe I was still vain enough in my youth to believe that I should lie about my age). Oh, how foolish and immature I was.

"I didn't think you'd show your face here," my younger self, the one who still calls himself the Doctor, says.

My reply is simple. "I didn't think you'd recognize me. Neural memories, of course. Ripping out through the cosmos. My cosmos."

"How did you get here?" Oh, how impudent I was. How forceful, full of self-importance and valor. Oh, valor. Pity I never realized that caution is the better part of that "noble" trait.

"I hold the fabric of every reality. Every core of every computational moment in the whole of creation from its beginning to its end. I lived through your life once, before I went back and prevented it." What a complicated few years it has been. Since defeating my sixth self, I've had such a time taking care of the universe, finding the weapons I worked so hard to hide in my naieve youth. And now, finding myself again.

"Prevented it?" the Doctor, the one in the brown suit, looks horrified. "How could you...why would you do that?"

'Because, Doctor. I can.' Cut for very mild spoilers to 4.14, 'The Planet of the Dead'. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,980, not including text from Doctor Who Unbound: He Jests At Scars
Special thanks to [ profile] salvagestime for the inspiration and beta!
Your Daily Tweets )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 419
Shamlessly inspired by the awesome that is [ profile] valrichards
It's at the very, very beginning. There's barely any time between their introduction and the moment where they must part. He's got to run off, he's got to stop disaster before it starts and she…she has to distract.

How should she distract? Well, she's too human to be of any interest…unless.

'This means nothing, he warns, firmly. 'Honestly, nothing.' )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,132


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The Doctor


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