10 posts tagged “whoniverse”
these are just some random rambling dribbly things i've been writing down lately. most don't make much sense. and yeah.... i'll TRY to section them all together with the characters involved. (I.E. whoniverse will be one color, heroesverse another, random al bits in green or something, etc.)
enjoy. :)
Doctor Who/Torchwood universe
The Alabaster bits.
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"You save the universe. Ran an intergalactic organization. And are currently on the run from said organization and you're... you're BLOGGING!"
"What?" he asked. "Jack and Martha get to blog whenever THEY save the universe. Why can't I?"
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"James?"
"Sorry Quincy. Did I wake you?"
"No," he said sleepily, turning on his bunk and burying half his face into his pillow. "I was just drifting is all."
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"Someday, it'll be the end."
"Don't talk like that Doc."
"I've only got 3 regenerations left Jack. And when the last one's come and gone, she'll have nowhere else to go. Our home is gone. She won't be much trouble. She'll lock down to one spot-"
"I have an idea," Jack said as a smile slowly spread across his face.
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"You have a sister," he said. "Half-sister really."
"Oh?"
Jack nodded. "Her name is Jenny. One day, you'll meet her."
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"Dad, there's something I need your help with."
"Yeah, make it quick," Jack said, slowing his running pace a bit. "I'm in the middle of something."
"Who's calling you at a time like this? Hang up and keep running!" the Doctor shouted back to him.
"I died," the voice on the other end said. "Twice."
"What?" Jack said, stopping dead in his tracks.
The Doctor skid to a stop. "Come on Jack! Goombas! Flaming turtle shells and rolling mushrooms! Deadly to the universe!"
"In a minute Doc!"
"We don't HAVE a minute!" the Doctor shouted back, throwing his arms in the air as he glanced down the corridor ahead of them.
"Okay," Jack said, ignoring the impatient Time Lord. "Is your face still the same?"
"Dad, what the hell-"
"Just answer the question."
"Yeah, but I don't see-"
"Good. Don't worry. It happens. Part of being an alien. Don't tell anyone. You'll be fine."
"But-"
"Gotta go. Running for our lives. Daddy loves you," Jack said, turning off the mobile and dropping it into his pocket.
"What was that about?! Come on!!!!"
Jack laughed, looking over his shoulder to see a giant mushroom with big enormous eyes rolling towards them. He took a few jogging steps before breaking into a full run. The Doctor took the cue and started running again.
When Jack caught up with the wiry man, he laughed. "You owe me a trip to the nearest pleasure planet!"
"What? Why? Who was that?"
"The kid died twice. Didn't regenerate. I win! You so owe me!"
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"Jack Harbourne. Writes The World That Wasn't book series."
"Those were pretty good," Gwen said.
"The hero is a nameless man called Traveler. And the villain, also nameless, called the Emperor."
"Sounds a little too close to home," Martha said, looking to Jack.
He knew that look. "Add that to the curiosities stack," he said at last.
------------
"Why aren't we pursuing this? He knows about things no one is supposed to-"
"Orders from higher up," Jack said.
"You ARE higher up. Or was it-"
"Martha. We leave the Harbournes alone. They're on the shortlist, understood."
"But-"
"Do not aproach. Don't even observe."
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"There was a story when I was young. One I was told over and over again. The story of a man who was fire and ice, and who burned like the sun at the center of Time. A noble lord who longed for nothing more than adventure and the vastness of space." He smiled down at the cup between his hands. "Gramps told me such stories. Stories, he said, I could never tell mum."
--------------------------
"John? Is that you boy?"
He nodded. "All grown up," he said, glancing back at the door where he knew a younger self had left just hours before. "And oh what a tale I have to tell you."
"You found him. That Doctor and his blue box?"
Again he nodded and pulled over a chair. "I did. But that's not the story I want to tell. I've been out there, gramps. I've seen strange galaxies and alien worlds and so many wonderful, terrifying things..."
----------------------
"Oh this... This isn't natural," he said. "This is, well... It's supposed to be impossible."
"What Doc?"
"There's... Now, I'm ecstatic that I've found this, but at the same time, I'm severely concerned."
"Well?"
He took off his glasses for dramatic effect. Whether he knew this or not made little difference, because it worked. "This sample contains Time Lord DNA."
"What?!"
"More specifically, my Time Lord DNA." He nodded, back to all business. "I'm going to need more time to anylize the samples, but this is definately not supposed to happen."
"You got me pregnant?!?!" Jack shouted, suddenly angry, but could do little more than sit there with his slightly bigger than normal stomach. "I thought you said-"
"Well, it's not exactly a science, you know. Plus, we did have a lot to drink."
"You had ONE banana daqueri! ONE!!!"
"And you had 17 hypervodkas and a shot of tequila. I'm suprised you're not pissing straight alcohol."
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"This is how it ends," he said. "It's always been how it ends. No matter what we do..."
Quin grabbed his hand. "You did your best."
"I'm sorry."
The American smiled. "I wouldn't spend the end of the universe any other way," he said. "Now, fancy a cup of coffee before we march to our deaths?"
"Yes please. Two sugars with a bit of that hazelnut creamer."
"All we've got is black."
--------------------------
"I know you..." she said. He nodded.
"It's me mum. It's your Johnny."
"My head," she whimpered. "It burns."
"It's okay mum. I'm here. Everything's going to be okay. I'm going to help you."
"John..."
He looked up at Wilf with a sad smile. "Next time you see me..."
The old man nodded. "You look after her, you hear. You take good care of my Donna."
"I will," he said, wrapping her in his greatcoat before lifting her up some.
-------------------------------
There was a flash. Brilliant and blinding in the central work area of the Hub. When it subsided, a man stood with weapon raised, aimed straight at his head.
"Help me!" he shouted as the woman in his arms, wrapped in his coat, screamed savagely.
"Who-"
"Commander Harkness!" he snapped. "Help me get this woman to a cryo unit!"
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"Roland, what the hell!" Jack shouted.
"I'm sorry," JJ said, emerging from the morgue. "I didn't know what else to do. There wasn't any time."
"You did this?"
"No," he said.
"Donna Noble died, kid. She died 40 years ago. And now you're telling me-"
"40 years?" he said, staring at him in confusion. "Wait... we time jumped? Shit. I'll have to get this thing looked at again. Trust John to fuck up anything he touches..."
"What happened?" Jack demanded.
"She remembered. She remembered everything. I had to get her frozen before we lost her for good."
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"Your skin is so cold..."
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't be."
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"This is an altered world," he said. "One touched by the hands of gods, not men."
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"You and your companions," he said thoughtfully. "You're an odd lot. An angel, a demon, a mortal and... whatever you are."
The older man smiled and sipped his tea. "Is it so hard to believe? You're a walking corpse, married to an angel who, by the way did what no man should ever be able to do... twice. And you cavort with mortals all the time."
He nodded his defeat. "True. But your lot, you're different. I can't put my finger on it."
The other man continued to sip his tea. "We are bound by different rules than you and your's."
"How so?"
He grinned. "For one, we are more closely tied to this world than you are. We are more than what we seem, like you. However we can and do often die. God holds no power over us, because we serve no masters other than ourselves. Even Lucifer himself holds no sway in our dominion."
"Pagans," Al said at last with a nod of understanding. "And what dominion is that, may I ask?"
He set down his cup and wiped his mouth with one of the rather fancy looking cloth napkins on the table. "Purgatory, my old friend. Neither good nor evil. Only a state of perpetual balanced existence."
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"Dragons? Are you serious?"
"Is it really so hard to believe, Alabaster?"
"Now that I think about it.... YES!"
"And like being a demon prince from hell is much better?"
"Hey, at least I don't breathe fire," he replied.
"No. You just fuck anything that crosses your path."
"Oi! Not the girls!"
"Okay. Unless they're a girl."
------------------------------------
"Interresting..." the stranger said without lowering his sword. "I had not counted on another of my kind here."
"If I pull the trigger," Al said. "Will you get back up?"
"Yes."
"Which crown do you serve, swordsman?"
"I serve no crown," he spat out bitterly.
"Then I've no quarrel with you, sir." Al slowly lowered his weapon, but the stranger did not reciprocate.
"And you?" he said, pressing the blade's tip into his flesh. "Which crown do you kneal to?"
"I forfeit my crown, sir."
Navy eyes softened, and the sword was quickly sheathed. "My apologies, Lord-"
"No formalities," Al said, raising a hand. "Just call me Alabaster."
"Many like us I've cut down in my journeys. You are the first to encounter me and survive."
"There are others?"
He nodded. "Yes. But they are not of the peaceful mind. Most seek to destroy. Others... merely pawns of Lucifer's generals."
Originally posted on my Xanga.
NOTE: This is a work of fiction. But it is amusing nonetheless.
So, my Whovian brothers and sisters... and other species. Oh, and you non-Whovians as well. I would like to share with you a legend. A myth, if you will. This tale of science and fantasy I bring before you today is the story of Trock.
It is similar to Wrock (Wizard Rock) of the Harry Potter variety, yet this is far much better.
Now, most, if not all Whovians will know of Trock, or rather, the earliest known Trock song from 1988 titled "Doctor'n the Tardis" by KLF under the name The Time Lords.
At the time, there was no such thing as Trock. And then, in 1989... the lights went out. Doctor Who was, dare they say it... was canceled. And with it, this new bastard child of Gallifrey and rock music was aborted... or so they thought...
In reality, the genre lay dormant. For eight years it slept, and it waited. It remained a legend, whispered among circles of nerds in the AV room. A myth, a story passed around in science clubs across the world. Then, in 1996, the kingdom of FOX Broadcasting attempted to ressurect the hero of Gallifrey through a man named Paul McGann. But the world was not ready. For the masses had forgotten the man who saved their planet time and again. They had forgotten the significance of a blue box, and did not understand what to make of the TARDIS dance. They asked themselves "How then, is it bigger on the inside than it is on the outside?"
FOX Broadcasting, suffering failure, did not pursue the ressurection of the Time Lord of Gallifrey. But they had succeeded, in a way. They had unknowingly reminded the world of what was lost, and what could be again. Through this period, the mammoth that was Trock remained asleep, but that sleep had become restless and fitful.
Nine years would pass before Trock would begin to rouse from it's sleep. In 2005, something amazing, something wonderful happened... A man called Russel T. Davies roused the sleeping giant that was Doctor Who. And with it he brought a man with rather large ears called Christopher Eccleston. And thus, the Doctor, the greatest Time Lord to have ever lived. Coincidentally... nine years had passed since the first attempt to bring back the space traveler... and Nine was the number designated to the newest face in the Time Lord's long existence.
This attempt was successful. Not only had Mr. Davies ressurected the Time Lord (and in the process killed off 99% of the alien's species) he had provided the final piece to the puzzle that would bring Trock to the masses. And that piece was called David Tennant.
Now, David Tennant may seem to some to be a mere actor. But he was the new, lovable, and eccentric face of the Doctor for the next 4 years. While this, in itself, seems like little importance to the slightly foggy Trock as it eats it's breakfast upon waking... It is in fact a crucial part of Trock's resurgence. For you see, a certain young Scotsman named Liam would find such a fact frustrating. While at first, it was quite funny, so many users on YouTube left comments for him stating he looked remarkably similar if not exactly like David Tennant. And thus, he made a video commenting on the fact. It was a satire.
Trock, checking YouTube as it was getting dressed for its first outing in 20 years, discovered this, and it amused the genre. Through Mr. Liam, Trock discovered another YouTube user.
And this user was called Nerimon to the YouTube community. Nerimon, inspired by Doctor Who, which now had a firm standing in popular culture once again, wrote a song. That song was called "An Awful Lot of Running." And he posted this song on YouTube.
Trock saw this, and it sat back and thought for a very long time on what to do. And when Nerimon, attempting to find the proper label for his new song, searched google for "Time Lord Rock" he found... Nothing.
Trock had been lost, forgotten. But now it saw its chance. Like the Doctor whom had inspired its creation, it too felt the time had come to resurface.
And thus, the genre was reborn, thanks to some unlikely Doctor Who fans on YouTube. In 2008, these Lords of Trock came together and formed the band Chameleon Circuit.
They wrote and they played, and they worked hard reshaping and reinventing Trock from a bastard child to a mature and wonderful new species...
And in 2009, on June 1, their album was available to the masses.
And thus the legend of Trock was at last reborn.
n.n That was fun, wasn't it?
Chameleon Circuit's album can be found here: http://store.dftba.com/product/chameleon-circuit
You can purchase their Trock album through: iTunes, Amazon.MP3, or the physical CD album. Only the CD has the bonus track "Exterminate, Regenerate [Demo Version]"
more dribble! AU of my usual AU! so i'm calling the new AU "AUReboot" because it utilizes a plot element wherein Commander James Harkness has reset time much in the same fashion as the Doctor and Co. did in "Last of the Time Lords" n.n
enjoy!
also..... most of it, if not all of it, is NOT in chronological order. good luck making sense of that one!
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"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Squeeze the Ood. You really, REALLY don't want to do that."
-----------------------
"So it comes to this..."
"You know you can't kill me Gabriel. Others can get out of my range, but you never will!" he shouted, flinging balls of fire which Sylar easily deflected to the side.
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"I'm a Mimic."
"You can absorb others' abilities?" Ando asked.
He shook his head. "No, but I can copy them. Use them, for a while at least."
--------------------------
"Your power, you'll find, doesn't work on me Hatian," he said, grinning. "Just like right now, I can't use it on you."
-----------------------
"Why aren't we affected?"
"Because none of us are part of this universe. We're all outsiders," she said. "Quin and I are from a parallel world. Owen and Tosh died eons ago. Their deaths created a varriant universe where Lowry, Brijit, and Mirren were born. And you, you're not even supposed to exist. None of us are part of this universe," she repeated. "The changes he's made are part of another timeline, one so distant from the threads of our indivitual streams. The only reason WE exist, is because of you. And you exist outside of time itself."
-----------------------------
"But if I... if I go through with it, it'll change the course of history. All of you will-"
Quin stared deep into his eyes, putting a hand on each side of his face and giving his best smile. The smile reserved only for moments like this, moments of doubt. "You've shown me so many impossible, wonderful things. We've fought monsters and saved hundreds, thousands of alien worlds. You even got me to appreciate tea a little more. If you'd told me six years ago I'd be saving the universe every day and fielding 911 calls from the planet Valkar, I'd have said you were more than insane. You were absolutely off your rocker."
"Quincy, I can't. Don't you understand?" He pulled away, falling deeper into his self doubt, deeper into the misery such a decision placed on his shoulders. "I can't lose you. Not again."
"You taught me there's so much more to life than a new flavor at Starbucks. Time doesn't matter unless you choose to do something extraordinary with it. And the universe is more important than a little teaboy from planet Earth."
------------------------------
"I hadn't pictured you for domestic."
Jack laughed. "This is a one in a million chance, Doc. The kind of life we lead isn't meant for a kid."
"And what are you planning to do if you bump into you?"
"I've thought about that. New identities, new city. If worst comes to worst, a crate full of Retcon and we'll move to a new continent."
-----------------
"I could always ask you to stay," the immortal said. "But I know it won't make any difference. You'll keep travelling. And the universe will always need you."
"Jack-"
His mouth widened into that perfect smile of his that only became more charming with time. "But when I call you, you'd better come running. And you'll have to visit as often as possible. Every birthday, every Christmas. Unless, of course, you're needed to stop another invasion, war, killer Christmas tree, that sort of thing."
-------------------------
"That's all well and good Jack, but what will you tell him when he's older? Or when he puts two and two together and wants to know why he learns humans only have one heart but he's got two?"
He shrugged. "If he asks, I'll tell him the truth. If not, then I won't bother."
------------------------
"Dad?"
"Yeah Jack?" the boy's father asked, looking up from his plate to see his son's scowl of heavy thought. "What's on your mind?"
"Well..." he started, scratching the back of his neck. "We're... we're doing a project in history class. We have to make a family tree."
"Oh," he replied, knowing where this was going.
"But I don't know anything about our family 'sides you and me. And that grandpa and grams are dead... Oh, and Uncle John on mom's side."
--------------------------
"Sorry," he said, closing the door behind him. "My dad's so overprotective. This one time, when we were living in London, the science club took a trip to the Cardiff museum. I had to call him every hour else he'd call me. It was so embarrassing."
--------------------------
He took his eye away from the telescope, blinking a few times to get it to refocus on the bag of cookies between them. "Someday, I'm gonna go up there. I'm gonna step on all sorts of new worlds and-"
"You're going to be an astronaut?"
He nodded.
His friend laughed, punching him hard in the arm. "Nerd."
--------------------------
"Dad, did you ever get the feeling you were meant to do something extraordinary? Be more than just an antique collector?"
He smiled. It was a secret smile, the boy knew. The one he'd seen his dad use when his friend came to visit. "Dad?"
"Jack," he said. "There's something you need to see."
-----------------------------
"You can't tell anyone. Not even your friends. And especially not your friend Drake."
"I don't get it. If I can do these things, and got these extra parts, I should be out there helping people, saving the world."
"No."
"But dad!"
"Jack, trust me. There are people out there that would use you. And some that would study you. Worse still, there's a few that won't stop and thing before killing you." He sighed, putting his hand on his son's shoulder.
"Why?"
"Because we're different than everyone else. That's why."
----------------------
"What is this? A trick? A hologram?"
"No trick, Captain," he said grinning. "Well, sort of one. Perception filters are great things. Simple, but effective."
There was a loud crash in the far back of the shop, followed by a shout. "Dad!"
The antique broker sighed softly. "Kids. Always breaking everything." He laughed, turning his head towards the door to the back ."Be there in a minute Jack!"
The captain stood at the counter, staring at him. "I.. You have a son?"
He nodded, ringing up the items. "And no, you can't see him. Wouldn't be good with the whole knowing your future thing. You won't remember this anyway. Not this shop. You'll do the right thing and Retcon yourself when you get back to the hotel. I've taken the liberty to write up a cover story and put it in the bag. Gwen will love it, by the way. At least until Rhys donates it to the Cardiff Historical Society.
"DAD!" the boy's voice came again. "A little help! Rose keeps trying to eat the glass!"
---------------------------
"This is..."
"Bizzare."
"I was going to say weird. Didn't see myself as a dog person. Always liked cats myself."
"Don't forget pterydactyls," the older Captain replied, stooping down to give the golden retriver a treat before scratching her behind the ears. "She was a present for Jack when he turned 8. Important number from what I understand."
The older man saw something in his younger self's face before it was quickly hidden away behind a business fascade. Something he'd said caused something else to come to mind. As if a piece were falling into place but also leaving a gap somewhere else...
"About this whole you and me thing," he said, his tone changing to a more playful one. "As much as I've always thought the idea was a kinky one, we both know two of us in the same place is a bad idea."
"You're the one that came from the UK buddy," he said. "I've been getting along find here with Jack and Rose."
"Rose?"
"The dog," he said, scratching the retriever's ears again.
"This isn't a grandfather paradox situation is it? You, here, raising a kid. The Boshane Peninsula is a human colony. Humans from THIS planet."
"It's not like that. This is temporary. As soon as the mothership comes back, and Jack's finished college, we're heading out."
-------------------------------
"How old are you?"
"You're-"
"No. I meant... You. What year did you come back from?"
"A long, long way off," he replied. "But you didn't find me again for a chat over coffee. You need information and answers, which is why you've put Retcon in my coffee. And I need something from you, which is why I haven't taken a single sip."
----------------------------
"I can't give specifics. Not about everything. But the Doc is going to tell you about a kid. Do NOT under any circumstances let him puzzle it out. Don't let him try and see what it's about. Don't even let him stay on that subject. You'll know what I mean when it happens."
--------------------------------
"Is he..."
"We don't know. Cuts and bruises heal relatively fast. But there's no telling which side he gets it from," the antique dealer said. "We're hoping the time we find out never comes."
-------------------------------
"This is ridiculous. Why are we here?"
"There's a young man I want to recruit."
"Fresh out of highschool, sir? You have got to be kidding."
"He's a computer genius that plots astronomical charts for a hobby. We need a new one of those."
------------------------------
"Hi. Captain Jack Harkness. This is my collegue Ianto Jones," he said, offering his hand.
The newly graduated young man laughed. "We were starting to wonder when you'd show up. You're late, by the way. My parents warned me you might try to drag me into your secret alien busters club."
"Smart people."
"Not interrested. I mean, it's great. Brilliant what you people do. Thanks, by the way, for covering for the Doctor last Christmas. But it's not for me. I'm going to university, get a flat with my best mate, and maybe, if I'm lucky, blast off into space."
"We can provide that," Ianto said.
"That's cheating. Besides, if I wanted the easy ticket, I'd call my uncle. He's got a big blue box."
----------------------------------
Jack sighed, setting down his cup. "He's started asking questions. I don't think the lies are cutting it anymore."
The Doctor nodded as he toiled away with his latest toy. "How old his he now?"
"17."
The Doctor nodded again. "Tell him the truth."
Jack laughed. "He'll think I've finally gone nuts."
It was the Time Lord's turn to laugh. "He's a bright kid. Knows he's not all human. He'll understand."
i've been having these strange dreams the last 2 nights. these are what's come of them.
enjoy the fresh dribbles of Who-ish-ness. n.n
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It was a Thursday when it happened.
Then again, Earth had a thing about it being the end of the world on
Thursdays. There was a Saturday here or there, but generally, Thursday was always the
day.
Unfortunately for planet Earth, this particular Thursday was no false alarm.
It was not a near miss. It was, in all truth, the full scale event.
No one knew why it had happened. Actually, they had. But they could not
decide who had done it. It was fairly certain that no human had done it, rather, no
Earthling, had bombed the world of ape descended bipedal creatures. Oh no. The ones
who had devestated the planet Earth were from the skies above, or the skies to the left
and right and every possible angle that is both conceivable and non-conveivable in the
universe. That is, if one were to get technical about it.
But that Thursday morning, humanity was not concerned with the how or
the why or the who of it all. Oh no. They were far more concerned with simply
surviving it.
There were, of course, pockets of survivors. But for every one, there were
dozens more invaders of many different origins. Metal men marched the land, while
extraterrestrial pepperpots soared through the skies shooting their beams of bloodless
death and utter extermination.
And soldiers, short, baked potato-like killed everything in their path as they
stormed the cities.
And those too large and too slow to run away fell, only to rise again as a
costume skin which opened with a zipper at the forhead, just barely in the hairline.
One pocket of survivors were a group of five siblings. Two brothers, and
three sisters. Somehow, they had survived in a small, shabbily built room in a basement
of a house that was built into the side of a hill. The first among them was the younger
brother, and fourth sibling of the five.
He had run far and fast, a mesh bookbag strapped to his back which he had
held onto for dear life. Notebooks and papers now rendered useless. And among them,
what few treasures he posessed that he had returned to his home to reclaim in the last
fleeting moments of obscurity he had managed to create.
He was the first to find the basement, and he barricaded himself inside,
keeping silent. Keeping still. Hiding in the darkness in hopes that he may never be
found by the horrors of what existed outside.
Then, he heard a scraping of something on the cold cement floor. He held
his breath, and in the dim light that crept into the shabby room, there were two figures.
A tall, lanky figure, with another shorter, equally thin form.
"Shut the door, quickly," the taller one hissed, and the one in hiding slowly
let out his breath as the door was shut. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness,
and he was following the vague shapes of the figures through the room.
"Where's the torch?" the taller one's companion hissed before a beam of
light broke the darkness, briefly flickering before becomming a steady stream of hope.
"Shine it here."
There was a rustling, and he watched as the light was cast on the taller one's
face. The younger sprang out of his hiding place, clinging to the taller man. "Jay!" he
exclaimed, then clamped a hand over his mouth, looking around. He was 15, but he felt
like he was a child, frightened and alone in this horrible, terrible place.
"Not so loud," hissed Jay, the taller. "How did you get here?"
"I ran."
"The whole way?"
He nodded. "The whole way. After I went back for my books."
"That was stupid. You should have come straight away. No stopping."
"Shhh..." the third whispered, dousing the light and creeping towards the
door. They heard muffled crying on the otherside of the door. The handle jiggled, but
the door didn't open.
"Please," someone on the other side. "Let us in. We know you're there."
"It's Doria," the youngest of the three snapped, feeling his way around in the
dark to find the door. He pushed the other out of the way and fumbled with the lock.
The door swung open and a pair fled into the darkness quickly. The door
was shut and locked back, and the beam of light was brought back up.
The smallest of the two new arrivals clung to the teenager's side, sobbing
into his shirt. He wrapped an arm around her, trying to console her as he led her
carefully through the now dimly lit dark to where he had hidden himself before.
The other three crowded together across the room, the tallest with his back
against the cinderblock wall and facing the door, keeping his big blue eyes peeled for
any sign of danger.
"We thought you were dead," the oldest, Jay said.
Doria, a ginger, shook her head. "No. She got sick at school, so I went to
pick her up early. We were clear across town when it happened. What about you two?
Anyone else?"
The third, the blonde, shook her head. "Just us, and Tem. We were in Wal
-Mart, and managed to hide out in a bathroom before making a break for it."
"If Lee hadn't managed to hotwire that BMW we never would have made it."
Doria nodded towards the chair in the corner where the younger two were
cuddled up, and the little girl's sobs had stopped for the moment.
"Says he ran the whole way."
Doria's eyes widened, not that the other two could see in such feeble light
anyway. "He ran? From Adairsville?"
"Didn't say from where. Just he ran," Jay said quietly.
"He's got Japanese first period. There's no way he could have made it here
from there on foot. Not this fast."
They shrugged. Jay handed Lee the flashlight and went to his younger
brother and youngest sister.
The five of them, a pocket, a literal handful, rode out the end of the world in
the basement of their childhood home. None of them dared to think about what had
happened to the house's new occupants before they had come running to the safest
place they could ever remember.
-------------------------
The others had laughed at him then. But they weren't laughing now. They
had called him insane for going back into the school to fetch his bag. They had called it
a stupid move. But that stupid move had provided them with things they needed to
survive for the time being.
Funny, the things you discover are quite useful only when they seem to be
the silliest things in the world at the time.
That day, seven years ago, had been the day that his friends had given him
back all of the books they'd borrowed from him. Silly things, those books. All works
of fiction, supposedly.
But out of the siblings, only two, only the brothers, realized they had truth to
them.
After all, history had a way of turning science fiction into science fact.
Who knew silly little novels about a time traveling alien and his various
friends would come in handy one day? Or that the notebooks filled with ideas and
fantasy blueprints for technology that didn't yet exist based off of a fun little tv show
could, in fact, be useful in trade and negotiations?
It was his bizzare facination with the strange and obscure that had kept him
alive all this time. As for his siblings... one he knew for sure was long since dead. He'd
killed her himself with his own bare hands.
He had no choice.
She had become a spy.
The other three... one of them he'd left behind five years ago. She'd found a
pocket of survivors, mostly children, and would not leave them. But he couldn't stay.
He had to move on. His youngest sister, Anne, had stayed with her.
And Jay...
He hoped against hope he was still alive somewhere, fighting the good fight
still. After all, it's what they had decided to do once they realized their... unique useless
knowledge could be the key to saving their people.
He sighed, flipping through the well-worn pages of his latest aquisition.
Printed on computer paper. Bound together by large, thick staples in a stack. Technical
specs of imaginary machines and impossible flying ships.
But in the aftermath of Invasion Day, as they'd come to call it, nothing was
impossible anymore. If the world hadn't ended, he guessed he may have made it to
MIT after all. Or maybe, he'd still be at home, eating potato chips and watching his
favorite television series... The irony of that gave him a small grin as he flipped through
the pages still.
He heard a noise, and quickly shoved the fan-made manual into his pack
with his other few key pieces of survival guides. His other hand reached for his pocket,
feeling inside for something, anything that may help him. His fingers found a yo-yo. It
would have to do.
"Show yourself!" he snapped. "By order of Article 16 of the Shadow
Proclimation I demand parlay! State your purpose and planet of origin!"
That piece of once fictional script had become the single most useful phrase
right after "Where is the toilet?" in any number of languages. Not that it had always
worked. Not all of the monsters he'd come across in the last seven years even knew
what he was talking about. Certainly, the zombies didn't know. They didn't know much
of anything for that matter.
He felt the yo-yo, and wished he'd thought to grab something more
substantial from the last Pocket he'd found. At least they were somewhat armed to
defend themselves, unlike him at the moment.
He heard the noise again, and cursed himself as he pulled his hand out of his
pocket. It was closer now, and it didn't sound friendly. It didn't even sound human. He
knew those sounds. Metal clanging against cement.
He hitched up his pack on his shoulder and bolted as fast as he could.
Cover wouldn't do. They would find him. He had to run, and keep running. He
couldn't stop until he was either dead or out of breath. Preferably out of breath, and
even then he'd push himself still further.
Cybermen were nothing he needed to deal with while unarmed. Especially
while unarmed. And now, his trek through the city was fruitless. He couldn't head for
the Pocket he'd heard was there. They might not even still be alive. And if they were...
he intended to keep it that way, and not lead the invaders straight to them.
-----------------------
"Hey you!"
He jumped out of hiding, his yo-yo in hand, the string hooked to his middle
finger. The monster didn't even turn. Not that he had expected it to do so. He dropped
the yo-yo, letting it fall to the end of its string and wind back up before giving it a
swing. It bounced off the back of the undead thing's head and came back to him.
It turned. That time he got its attention as it slowly ambled it's way around.
"Get out of here now!" he shouted, flinging the yo-yo again as the children
scrambled to escape.
"God, I hate your type," he said, taking a step back but keeping his eyes on
the children until they were out of sight. He flung the yo-yo one more time before the
string broke and the small yellow toy bounced off and away. "Always hungry. Never
stopping long enough to savor the people you eat. You never know, you might like
dark meat better than white meat. Or maybe a bit of ginger is more your style?"
He found he couldn't back away any more. His back pressed against a brick
wall. He searched his pockets as the monster loomed closer. He found nothing he
could use to defend himself. He cursed himself for never thinking this far ahead.
And certainly his manuals and books wouldn't help him now.
He spotted a twisted rod, a clump of concrete stuck on the end. As the
monster lunged, he ducked under it's arms and rolled, grabbing the rod on his way. It
was heavier than he expected. Though, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. It
took two hands to hold it up, and whistled. The monster was slow moving. It must
have been a first generation of the horrid creatures then. Though how it had survived
this long was a mystery.
And his fatal swing of the concrete tipped rod at its head would ensure that
such a thing remained a mystery.
The monster went down, and he gave the rod a heave, slamming it down
against the skull twice more before he was satisfied that it wouldn't be getting back up.
But he couldn't leave it. No. Should a wild animal, or, God forbid another of
the creatures happen upon the carcass, the mutated disease would spread much like in
those old Resident Evil games and movies he'd been so fond of as a teenager.
No, there was only one solution.
Extermination by fire.
"Spending too much damn time with those Daleks," he muttered, shaking his
head as he dug around in his pockets for a matchbook.
---------------------------------------
He's been running for days. He can't remember if there was a time when he
hadn't been running. That time was so long ago. An entire lifetime away, it felt like.
He'd found another book, one he hadn't had before. Unlike all of the others,
he didn't devour it. No, this one he savored, like a fine wine. The Story of Martha. He
read it, and he sympathized with the fictional heroine. But in the back of his mind, that
same little voice chimed away at him. She may not have been fictional after all.
He had to hope that somewhere, out there in the universe was a man in a
blue box that would come save them. After all, his enemies in that science fiction
universe were real. Oh they certainly were real, and had become a mainstay on the
planet Earth for three years shy of a decade now. Why then, wouldn't He exist, too?
He ran on, a new yo-yo in his pocket. A new set of matches he'd scrounged
up at what was once a titty bar in its glory days so long ago. He had to get there by
nightfall. He had to make it to the next Pocket. He had to be like the great Martha
Jones. And hopefully... his fool's mission would pay off.
-------------------------------------
"They took him! They took Marley!"
"Who?" she said, trying to get the boy to focus on her. She was hardly
much older than he was, but she'd been a rock for the Pocket since their leaders had
been taken. Or killed. No one could decide on which. Some claimed both simply as a
compromise.
"The metal men!"
She looked over the boy's shoulder to the man standing in the back of the
room, rolling a cigarette. He'd been lucky enough to find an empty store, blocked off
by debris and left alone for much of the post Invasion Day world.
The look in her eyes told him he wouldn't get to enjoy the cigarette he was
rolling for himself. He sealed the roll of tobacco and paper and put it to his lips. He
used one of the matches from his new book of them to light the end and inhale.
He hadn't expected to run into her here. Another woman, perhaps, but not
her. She tended to stay off the grid, like himself. Only for her, it was for far different
reasons. It was the only way she could keep alive. He had it easy compared to her. At
least he didn't have to worry about being locked up in a camp, and shot up with god
knows what. He could sleep easy knowing if he was ever captured, he'd be killed.
But Anne... her fate would never be as kind as his own.
He watched as she managed to calm the boy before moving off to another
of the children. That's all they were, really. Left alone by adults who dissapeared in the
night. After a while, she managed to get them occupied with other things. Sorting out
the latest spoils she'd brought for them. Food, clothes, random things.
She came to him as he rolled another cigarette. "Those things'll kill you."
"Rather these kill me than the alternative," he said coldly.
She nodded. Once, when she was younger, she would have argued over his
nasty, self-destructive habit. But these days, she prayed he lived long enough for the
cigarettes to kill him. At least then, he'd still get the last laugh out of spite to those
creatures that came to their world.
He rolled a few more, putting them into a small, dented and scratched tin
that said Altoids on the top. He put one to his lips, and lit it up. He inhaled deeply.
"What's the word?"
"Metal men is all they keep saying," she said. "They seem to be leaving the
children alone for the most part."
"Of course," he said. "In the past, they'd take everyone. But upgraded
humans from children wouldn't function as well. Let the halflings mature, then take
them."
She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced back at the
teens and the children. "At least it's not the pepperpots," she said, trying to smile.
But he didn't return her humor.
"There's something else," she said, her tone dropping lower. "Jay was here."
"What?!" he exclaimed, nearly swallowing his cigarette.
She nodded. "One of the older girls," she said. "When the adults first
started dissapearing, she said a man came and looked after them. He tried to help them
fight back. They managed to hold up in an abandoned department store. He took off to
scout the area, and never came back."
"Any leads?"
She sighed sadly. He easily read the expression on her face. It was one he'd
seen hundreds of times before on hundreds of other faces. "Tell me the truth, Anne,"
he said.
Slowly, she nodded and turned her eyes up to him. "They think it was the
clone soldiers that took him. But they can't be sure."
He growled. Sontarans. He HATED the entire bastard clone race. If he
could wipe them out in one go, he wouldn't hessitate to do it. Though, Sontarans
weren't known to take prisoners. Not unless they were after something, or planned to
take them back to their homeworld.
"You can't be thinking what I think you're thinking."
"We have to rescue him."
"It might be exactly what they want. Besides, we need to-"
"We'll deal with the Cyberman problem now, and then I'll head out to rescue
Jay."
She put a hand on her older brother's shoulder. "Not alone. And we'll need
help. Doria's millitiamen will come in handy."
so... yeah. here's an update. with dribbles! YAY!
fresh out of the notebooks! YAY!
enjoy. (YAY!)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"How does it end, Doctor?"
"You know how it ends," he replied.
James nodded. "I want to hear it," he said. "From someone who was there."
The Doctor understood, giving the young commander's shoulder a light squeeze. "He went out saving the human race," he said. "So very Jack. And he wasn't alone. Martha, Novice Hame, and I were there, with him, to his last breath."
"Four words," James said to himself, then spoke up. "Just four little words. Meaningless words. Important words." The half-breed paused, looking at the legendary savior, the temporal hobo... his father. "You are not alone."
Silence passed between them, and he watched this strange, new incarnation's face harden for his young-looking years. Then, when he locked eyes with the other, he gave a ghost of a smile, choking back his emotions. In this form, in this face, it was far easier to do than the last one. The crazy, ADHD burdened one. "It's good to see he didn't mean just the Master," he said at last.
-------------------------------------
"I'm sensative to energy fields. You had to be on my planet. Aboid the thinnies."
"Thinnies?" the scientist asked.
"They're like... holes in reality. Pass through a thinny and you lose your mind."
----------------------------
"An orange sky. Two suns, and silver leaves which shine in the sunrise over the forests..." he whispered.
"All this before you is New Gallifrey, Doctor," he said proudly. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like. But I warn you, this isn't the same world you left behind in a panic of flames and fury."
"A replacement."
He shook his head. "No, Doctor. Conservation, restoration on a global scale. But in this new version of an ancient world, all races are equal. All species have a voice, and that voice is heard unhindered. And here, even a mighty Time Lord may become likened to a beggar."
-----------------------------
He laughed. "Believe it or not," James said, "Torchwood rejected Jack's applications when he was younger. We were on standing orders to refuse all applicants from the Boshane Peninsula until a certain Captain was signed on for a joint mission between us and the Time Agency."
---------------------------------
"This world is a utopia at the end of the universe."
"You mean..."
He nodded solemnly. "It's sad... The humans that became... They could have made it. Would have made it had it not been for the Master's sabatage, sending them in the wrong direction from our fleet stations. By then, it was too late to save them."
-------------------------
"It was you!" he exclaimed. "The Hacker!"
He smiled. "Nightinggale's song was heard 'round the world. And all transmission channels reversed their signals all at once."
------------------------------
"Donna," he said. "I've a visitor for you."
"you keep her locked up in a cage?!"
"Technically, Doctor, it's an artificial Zero room, turned into compartments for an entire living space."
"A cage with a fancy name is still a cage, James."
"They were designed and constructed according to HER specifications and REQUEST, Doctor," James replied in a similar tone.
------------------------------
"You two should be comfortable here," she said, a hand resting on her stomach. "It's not much, but it's home."
"Thanks, but I don't sleep," Jack and James both said.
Chapter 1 of Act 1 is posted.
Brief Summary: The Commander and his assistant are having lunch when they are interrupted by Medi, one of the Archive researchers. The Commander also misses an important meeting with some scientists.
this is the beginning of a crack!ficlet wherein all of Sci-Fi is actually real, it just doesn't actually take place on Earth most of the time, even though some shows claim it does.
anywho, Tardis in a bathroom. I have no idea why I thought it was so damn funny. but it is.
enjoy.
-----------------------------------------------
Mark was sitting in his kitchen, just about to enjoy a nice hot cup of
coffee before finishing his term paper when he heard a strange noise comming
from his bathroom.
Now, it was a rather old appartment building. And he was paying
practically dirt-cheap rent, so hearing strange noises in any of the rooms wasn't all
that odd to begin with.
At first, he thought it must have been his phone, since his ring tone
sounded like an engine from his favorite television show. He turned around in his
little plastic chair and snatched his phone from the counter, flipping it open.
No new calls. No messages. Nothing.
Then, he heard the sound again. Staring at his phone, he blinked in
confusion before looking around. Maybe he'd left his computer on in the other
room. After all, he was a complete nerd, and did like to change the music and
sounds on the old desktop just because he knew how.
He was passing by his bathroom on his way to the small room in the
back he'd claimed as his bedroom when he heard a voice, muffled by the old
door.
He shook his head, deciding he was just hearing things. If his
roommates were home, they would no doubt tease him for his little patch of
paranoia.
He continued on to his room, checking his computer. No, it wasn't
that. It was actually turned off. It wasn't his phone, computer, not even his CD
player with burned music and sound effects. Laughing at himself, he sighed and
turned, heading back to the kitchen.
When he passed the bathroom door, it swung open and the initial
shock of surprise nearly gave the poor young man a heart attack.
"Ah! That's better!" the man exclaimed. "Though why we landed in the
bathroom is anyone's guess..." He looked up and down the hall, then noticed the
young man with his hand pressed against the wall for support.
"Oh, sorry mate. Didn't see you there. How could I, the door was
closed."
"I... You scared the hell out of me," he said, then silenced.
"Terribly sorry. I'm the Doctor by the way, and you are?"
"Mark," he said. Then after catching his breath, Mark's brain kicked
into overdrive as he stared at the man in the suit who was standing in the doorway
of his bathroom. "You're... you're... real? But... It's just a show!"
He nodded, then bit his lip in thought. This wasn't the first time he
bumped into this kind of problem. He probably should have expected it. "Well..."
he said. "Most of it. The scriptwriters embellished a lot, to give it some drama,
and had to tone down the action a little. They had an hour to fill, and couldn't put
in every little detail."
"But how? You're a character! Fiction!
The Doctor smiled in that way the college student had seen so many
times before on television. And he proceeded to explain, also in that same long-
winded fashion. "One thing I've noticed over the years is that humans are like...
you lot are like antennae, picking up signals from the rest of the universe without
even realizing it. You pick up fragments of transmissions, in dreams or in the most
random of moments, and you write them down, turn them into a good yarn, and
then you're on the top seller's list. Amazing, really, your brains," he said, grinning.
"But do you want to know the best part?"
The young man's eyes lit up as he was transfixed by such a bizzare
curiosity. "Oh yes, please."
"I don't even know why! I suppose it's an evolutionary response to
your particular location in the universe. This sector is a galactic hotspot of
transmissions. Think of it as intergalactic Wi-Fi. And with the addition of your
broadcasting satellites, it boosts the signals. Your brains are spongy receivers,
encased in bone and wandering around this big blue and green ball, unaware of
just how unique you are."
The Doctor found that he had lost the young man further back in his
explanation than he'd originally thought, and discovered that the young man was
texting quickly on his cellular phone.
"Oh my God, nobody's going to believe this," he said to himself, using
the photo function of his phone to snap pictures of the space man and his ship.
"This is just too much. Alex is just going to DIE!"
"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed, reaching for the student's phone and
grabbing it.
"Hey! I was in the middle of something!"
"Can't have you blabbing to everyone about me."
"Come on, just a few mates of mine. Really," he said. "Just one?
Please? Alex is a real die-hard sci-fi nut. This'll really blow h-"
The Doctor sighed and handed the phone back. "Fine, fine. One
picture."
"Oh, could you do that thing, like, sonic my phone? Roaming charges
here are horrendous and I can barely manage to pay my share of the bill as it is."
"No," the Doctor said. "Come on then, take the picture and get on with
it."
"Really? Not just this once?"
"Companion privledges only. Sorry Mark."
He hurried to the alien's side and snapped a picture of them together,
then immediately sent it to his friend Alex, who he'd been texting with before.
"Dude... This is so freakin cool. The Tardis is in my bathroom. Next to
my shower."
just a teaser. this is the opening scene from my Torchwood fanfic, which the previous post was all about.
enjoy. n.n
warning: has typos, didn't use spell check, don't like using beta readers.
disclaimer: i do not own, nor did i created Torchwood or anything in the canon Whoniverse. this was written solely for entertainment and no profit is or will ever be gained from the creation of this fictional text. however, if the BBC would ever turn this into an actual story arc or episode, that'd be fuckin awsome. but i doubt they would.
--------------------------------------------
He had been swimming. Enjoying the exercise he was getting in the heated pool on his day off. One of the rare few. The rift had been quiet all week, Jack was driving him crazy in his bordem.
But in the pool he could relax and let his troubles and his own bordem melt away.
That was, until someone reached in, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him up out of the water as soon as he'd gotten close enough to the edge.
"What the-"
"Sir, you must vacate this area immediately."
"But-"
"Sir, do not argue with me," the blonde woman snapped, shoving him towards where two more people were ushering the others driven from the pool.
A head popped into view, a young Japanese girl's. "We cannot waste much more time," she said.
"Hawkins! Bert! Hurry it up, we've got to drop the payload!" she snapped instantly, pulling a device that didn't even remotely look human made to Ianto's eyes out of her coat. "Sir, if you will not vacate this area immediately, I will have no other option than to use force."
"Get everyone clear!" the Japanese girl shouted, comming into full view with a large box in her arms. She was so tiny, and the box so large. It seemed almost as if it were alive.
The blonde woman shoved Ianto out of the Japanese girl's way as she ran towards the pool, trying to keep her grip on the box. She slipped, nearly falling into the water with it. Ianto jumped into action, forcing his way past the woman armed with alien technology and grabbing the Japanese girl by her arm.
She yelped, but it was nothing compared to the sounds the box was making in the water. In nothing but a pair of swim trunks, the Welshman pulled her back from the edge, not letting her go. What he wouldn't do to have his bluetooth on right now.
There was a splash, followed by waves from the pool lapping at the concrete edges. The ground shook as the water in the pool went wild.
"Let me go!" the Japanese girl shouted, stomping on Ianto's foot with her boot. "Something's wrong, ma'am."
"It's having an adverse reaction to the chlorine!" one of the men, a handsome fellow with a scottish accent shouted.
The blonde shook her head. "No, give it a moment more."
The shaking stopped, followed by the waves. The water began to settle down. Once Ianto was able to stand on his foot again, he cautioned a look back into the pool.
There, swimming just below the surface was an odd looking creature right out of a story book of sorts.
And suddenly, he had the urge to watch The Little Mermaid again.
"Who the hell are you people?" Ianto managed to choke out.
The blonde, apparently their leader smirked, and he could feel her eyes on his back.
"Torchwood," she said. "Miho, if you would."
Ianto felt a prick in his neck. Reaching up his fingers found a dart with a small feather at the end. Turning around, he saw her lower her blow gun before the world went dark and his legs gave out from under him.
another dribble set in the doctor who alternate universe. n.n enjoy.
--------------------------
"Are you proposing a... date?"
He nodded. "A proper date, me and you. No exploding planets, no running from Daleks. No foiling evil schemes. Just you, me, a movie, and dinner. What do ya say?"
"No."
"Why not?!" he exclaimed. "I'm a good looking bloke. I'm nice, thoughtful, handsome and-"
"You're not nice. You're annoying. You're not thoughtful. You're entirely adlebrained."
"But I am handsome."
Quin sighed, trying to focus on his book. "I never mix work with my personal life."
"Oy! What's that supposed to mean! I've seen you in your skivies!"
"By accident!" Quin protested. "The locking mechanism on the shower was broken. I put a sign on the door. You obviously didn't take the time to read it." He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "You're my boss. It's not going to work out. Especially if you fire me or I quit later on."
"I could always promote you instead."
"To what? I'm already your maid, chef, assistant, mailman, pet groomer. By the way, you're behind on Rassalon and Doctor's vet bills," he said.
"The phrase 'on time' is only relative. I've still got a few months to catch up on those." JJ smoothed down his hair. "Come on. Just one date."
"Why the hell are you so insistant about this?" Quin was clearly annoyed.
JJ tried his best to look innocent. "Well, see... a friend of mine is getting married... and I can't show up by myself and... I was hoping if the first date went well, maybe..."
"Now you can definately forget it," he said, sliding further down into his chair and hiding his face behind his book. "Why don't you try and contact that Martha girl. I'm sure she'd love to go."
"She's married."
"How about that Gwen woman."
"Also married."
"Jack?"
"He's my mother.... or father. That's just.... no. That'd be like taking my sister to prom."
"Could take your sister."
He shook his head. "No way. She'd probably blow something up. Probably think the cake is made of plastique explosive."
"You'll think of someone."
"Why won't you go? It's not like I even have to be there the whole time!"
"Fine! If you'll just shut up!"
JJ was grinning from ear to ear.
"But... there's conditions," Quin warned him. "Keep your hands where I can see them at all times. I pick the movie, and I pick where and what we eat. I don't want any of that strange space stuff. AND you have to do the laundry, cooking, and dishes for three months."
"Oh, easy."
"Earth months."
JJ's smile faded, and he groaned.
"No rooftops or offices either."
"Come on! Offices are sort of my thing."
"No offices."
JJ puffed out his cheeks in annoyance and groaned in reply.
some more random doctor who/torchwood-ish dribbles. have fun. enjoy. n.n
note: most of these don't follow a real chronological order. n.n
-------------------------------------------------------------
"What are you doing here?"
"You know why."
"No. You can't have him."
"You knew this was comming."
"But he's still just a child!"
He sighed. He didn't like what he was about to do. But it was the only way. They both
knew he couldn't remain on Earth forever. He wasn't meant for that. He wasn't created for that. "I'm
sorry. I'm so sorry."
The woman was in tears. She came to him, and she beat his chest with her fists in anger.
Her sobs muffled as she collapsed against his red shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, the woman
that had raised him.
"That's all you Time Lords ever say," she said. "You're sorry. You're always sorry."
"Sarah Jane," he said softly. "Luke... He's not human. He can't stay here. It's too
dangerous for him, for all of us. You know that. If someone found out what he was-"
"He's my son. That's all that matters."
He held her tight, and rested his chin on top of her head. "Mum. It's going to be alright.
We'll come visit, every Christmas. And stay through New Years."
"And birthdays too," she said.
He smiled. But it was a sad smile. "Yes. Birthdays too. Your's, his, and mine if you want.
But we have to go. Torchwood is waiting for him."
"Sir," Quincy said from the stairs. "It's time to go."
"Not yet," she said, pulling away from him. She wiped her eyes on the cuffs of her sleeves.
"Let me... Let me say goodbye."
"Sir, the time window will close in-"
JJ raised a hand to silence him. "Quin, wait outside by the car. I'll be out in a few minutes."
"But-"
"Don't question me. Just go. Please."
After a long moment, Quincy nodded and straightened his tie. He went outside as Sarah
Jane started to climb the stairs, her heart heavy and her sadness burrowing deep. JJ waited at the foot
of the stairs, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed. Before the end of the day, he and Quin
would be escorting Luke Smith to New Gallifrey. To the Archives.
And Sarah Jane knew she would never see her son again.
-----------------------------------------------
He sat with his head in his hands. He didn't understand what was happening. One minute,
he's leading a group of Japanese through the courtyard of some hotel, the next, he's staring up at a
man with a scalpel about to slice into his chest.
It was truly... horrifying.
"I want to see my mother!" he'd shouted once when a man had come to question him.
The man had smirked and tossed a file of some sort of body scans at him and said," Sure
you do. We'll just call up to the mothership and arrange for her to come down and visit."
He didn't understand any of it. The pictures, the images, were supposed to be him, he
understood that. But what they showed... It was impossible...
"Let me out of here!" he shouted, getting up from the table. Picking up his chair and
slamming it against the mirror. It didn't break. The folding chair bounced off, so he hit it again. "I'm not
an animal!"
The door to the cell they had locked him in burst open. Two large men in white tackled
him to the ground.
"Remember," a third in black said. "Just enough to calm him. Too much, and it'll send him
straight into a regeneration."
"Get the hell offa me!" he shouted, struggling against the men. His military school training
kicked in, but it wasn't enough.
The world started to fade. He felt the two men let go of him, stepping back as he tried to
pull himself up. He felt so suddenly drunk.
"What... what did you give me!" he demanded.
"Just a little something to help you... relax."
---
He woke to find himself handcuffed to a table. He pulled on the chain, testing it.
"Don't bother, Mr. Smith," the man in black said. "If that is your name."
"It is," he snapped, trying to stand but found himself firmly secured to the table, and
surprisingly to his chair.
"What were you doing in Japan."
He spat across the table. The man pulled out a hankerchief and wiped the spit from his tie.
"Now now Mr. Smith. No need for spitting."
"I'm tied down. You're drilling me for information. There IS need for spitting."
The man shook his head and opened the briefcase sitting on the table. His fingers stroked
the keys before he turned it around.
JJ saw playing out CCTV footage of something he recognized to be the last thing he
remembered before waking up on an autopsy table.
"What intrigues us about you, Mr. Smith, is your unique way of cheating death. That blast
there," the man said, pausing the footage on the exact moment an energy beam passed through his
body. "That was a killing blow. No one could have survived such a thing. Certainly even a Time Lord
would have regenerated with much difficulty."
"So I'm lucky."
"No. Not lucky. Unkillable. Immortal."
"I'm just a kid from Ealing, mister. You're making me sound like fucking Tinkerbell Jesus."
"I met him once. Nice guy. Likes to wear pinstripe suits," he said in a mocking tone, then
became serious once again. "You, Mr. Smith, aren't human. You've got two hearts, yet you cannot
regernate. Logically speaking, the two hearts would classify your species as Time Lord."
"Time... what?" he said, trying to make himself sound as if he were clueless. He had heard
of Time Lords from the planet Gallifrey. His mum, Sarah Jane, often told him bed time stories as a
child. He'd assumed they were some outlandish science fiction fantasy. But knowing Sarah Jane... he
should have suspected those creatures were real.
The man in black nodded, suspicious of the young man and his knowledge on the subject.
"You understand why we have had to restrain you," he said. "Your kind are unpredictable. Some are
benevolent and useful," he said as if recalling a fond memory, then quickly his demeanor changed, and
he was like fire, and angry. "Others are insane, violent megalomaniacs."
It was then JJ grinned, humoring the man who believed him to be some sort of alien.
"Really? And which of the two am I?"
The man was stone faced now, and quite serious. "Judging from your previous outburst,"
he said, then raised a brow in amusement. "You are restrained, aren't you?"
"Good point," he replied, giving a small nod and testing his bonds once again. "But I won't
be for long."
---
For weeks, this went on. He would be drugged. Tied up. Questioned. Drugged. Untied.
Again and again. It got to the point where he actually started believing what they were saying to him.
He actually believed he was an alien from another planet, that he was this thing called a Time Lord.
But, he wasn't a Time Lord. Not entirely. For some reason, he could not regenerate, whatever that
meant.
He wasn't sure himself. But he was getting a somewhat working idea on what it might have
been. And he didn't like it. Not at all.
"Officially, you are deceased," the man in black had said. JJ did not know his real name.
He only heard his title. Chief. That's all he was called, at least, around the boy.
"Listed among the dead. Your mother, Ms. Smith, has been under close observation. She
has become a nuisance."
"That's my mum," he said. On this occasion, he was not tied up. He was not chained to
the chair, or the table. He merely sat back, his feet propped up on the table and his chair back on two
legs. He had learned to play the cooperative captive, to earn back little freedoms. Earn enough of
them back, and then build up a secret leverage. "Always being a nuisance. Looking into things that
belong in the nutcase papers.
"She has been looking for you. She doesn't think you are really dead."
"Well, I'm not. I'm alive. Still breathing, that's me," he said, grinning. "Means she knows
I'm a lucky little bastard."
"No. She knows what you are. And she knows you're out there somewhere.
Unfortunately... she is under the impression that you no longer look-"
"Like myself. I gathered as much," he said, looking at his nails. They'd grown a bit long.
"Are we through here? I'm quite tired. Being dead is a lot of work."
-----------------------------
"Mum!"
"I'm a little busy right now Luke!" she called from the attic.
"Mum! On the telly! Come look!"
"Please Luke! This soil sample isn't going to examine itself!"
Luke groaned, turning up the volume as loud as it could go. He had to cover his ears to
try and block out some of the sound. It was just too loud for him to stand.
Sarah Jane appeared in the doorway of the boy's bedroom. She crossed the room to pick
up the remote control, to turn the volume down. But the remote clattered to the floor. "Oh my..." she
said, covering her mouth as she fought hard not to cry.
"It's James," he shouted, picking up the remote to turn down the volume so she could hear
him. "He's alive! You were right! He's still alive! And in London!"
Sarah Jane heard him, but she did not listen to him. Instead, her blurring vision was
transfixed on the screen. On the grainy black and white photograph plastered in the top corner as the
newswoman spoke about child abductions, then moved on to an odd conspiracy sweeping the
internet.
"In internet news, many bloggers around the world claim UN translator Jacob
Hainey is in fact the same man who aided Japanese refugees during the Osaka-Vendredi incident."
A second image came up. A video clip.
"Bloggers have commented extensively in the Defenders of the Earth forums
that this man must work for UNIT, as he is seen in the clip we're showing from the Osaka-Vendredi
incident and-"
Sarah Jane quickly turned off the television, unable to watch more.
"Mum?" Luke said.
Sarah Jane ran from the bedroom, straight for the attic. "Mr. Smith!" she shouted, bursting
through the attic door. "I need you!"
------------------------
"Jacob Hainey," he said, offering his hand. The woman gladly shook it. He smiled at her.
One. Two. Three.
"Toshiko Sato," she said. "Japanese translator."
Three seconds was all he needed.
All he needed to make a positive ID.
"Have we met before?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I don't think so, Miss Sato."
"But I know I've seen you before," she insisted.
He shook his head again. "Wait," he said. "Perhaps... Oh, just a shot in the dark, but were
you at the UN hearing on the proposition to have Harriet Jones reinstated?"
She blinked at him, then smiled politely. "Yes, I was."
He was reading her face. She wasn't lying. He knew she had been there. He wasn't, but
how was she to know that. He laughed, sipping at his tea. "What did you think of the French
objections to the idea? She was the best Prime Minister England has had since, well, the history of
parliment."
She smiled at him again. But she was anylizing him with her mind, he was sure. Picking him
apart, trying to place where she had seen him. But he knew she would come up short. She'll just have
a theory... nothing more. No proof. No hard evidence to show the one who'd sent her.
They chatted a few moments longer. He knew she did not wholly trust him, nor he her.
But they appeared friendly and colloquial to others. Exactly the pretense he needed to keep up.
"It's going to be a pleasure working with you, Miss Sato. I'm sure we'll get along famously
through this project." He patted her shoulder in a friendly, but not too friendly manner. "Why, they'll be
calling us in for all of the major negotiations."
--------------------
He eyed the men across the table as Toshiko translated what the Japanese delegates were
saying for everyone else present. He was sure they were not Belgian, as they had claimed. Or, if they
were, he was sure they were only puppets for someone else.
They hadn't carried themselves as humans, that was certain.
After the latest conference, Toshiko sought him out. It was natural for her to do so. He
intrigued her. He was like-minded. He was... an enigma she had yet to figure out. And he was good
with that.
Unfortunately, she found him at a bad time.
A very very bad time.
"The Japanese girl is distracting you, Smith."
"No, she isn't," he protested. "She's actually a great help. She's got skills we can utilize
and-"
"You're not thinking clearly. We need to isolate and eliminate the threat. By any means
necessary. She is getting in the way of that."
"She's Torchwood, sir," he said, not noticing the woman hiding just around the bend of the
hallway. "I suspect, she is here for the same reasons we are."
The man in black was silent. Then, slowly he nodded. "Makes sense Captain Harkness
would be after the Lemurian millitants." He reached into his jacket.
JJ took a step back, eyes wide. "Is that..."
"Yes."
"Sir, no. I can't. The situation has become compromised. If I use force, they'll have me
executed on the spot."
"That's why out of all UNIT freelance agents, you were hand picked for this, Smith. Get
the detonator by any means necessary."
"I won't use force," he insisted. "There's got to be another way. We can call in a favor.
Cardiff owes us a backlog, with all of the ones Captain Harkness calls us up for. We can do this
jointly, and still get all the credit."
"There is no other way. Dispose of Jack's little foot soldier if you must. But we have to get
that detonator before they set off the minefields."
---------------------
"You're... there's no way..."
"Torchwood must never know about me, Toshiko," he said. "I know what they do to
others like me. You know what they would do. Dissect me, examine me-"
"But we're not like that. Jack, he's changed it. We're nothing like London had been."
He shook his head. "I know. But you have to understand. I'm not... I'm not human. I'm
like your Jack, but I'm nothing like him at all. It's complicated," he said, raking a hand through his hair
and sighing in frustration. "Look. It's either you do this for me, or I have to kill you. I know, you're not
fond of UNIT. Neither am I. But I don't have a choice."
"James. You do. You have a choice. Come back to Cardiff with me. Meet Jack. You'll
see. It's all changed. We could use someone like you on our team."
He shook his head. "An impossible man that can never die. I believe your good Captain's
already cornered that market. It's best if I remain... unknown. If you run across any sightings of me,
do what you're best at. Eliminate them. Destroy the evidence that I was even here, or there."
"And what do I get out of that?"
"An anonymous tipster. A secret UNIT insider."
"We already have that in Dr. Jones."
"Yes, but who do you think let the cases that drew her to you slip across her desk?"
------------------------------
"Commander Harkness, Torchwood," he said, holding up his psychic paper absently as he
inspected the alien corpse.
Ianto blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the man. "It's blank."
"Really?" he asked, standing up straight and looking at it. "Oh, so it is. My mistake.
Wrong wallet, you see," he said. He dug deep in his pockets, finally finding his proper wallet and
pulling out his proper ID. "There we go. It's all there," he said, handing it over and then stooping to
continue his inspection.
Ianto looked down at the plastic card he now held in his hands, then glanced to Gwen
quizzically. She shrugged and took the safety off her glock. "Who are you and what are you doing
here?" she demanded.
"Who? Me?" he asked, peering up at them. "Oh. Nothing special, me. Not at all. Just a
passerby really." He poked at the corpse's arm with a stick and grinned, using the stick to pull on a
thin white cord, the end of which was attatched to a slender hot pink device.
"Ah! She had an IPod. I wonder what sort of music she was into," he said, turning it on
and flipping through the songs in amusement. "Madame Butterfly... strange. I didn't think the Janglefek
cared for Opera. Learn something every day. Amazing species."
He stood up straight, pocketing the player and snatching his card back when Ianto
reached for his side arm. "I mean, seriously. Who knew?" He grinned, and his expression caused both
agents to feel uneasy.
"Well now. You must be Gwen Cooper, am I right? Impressive service record, might I
say. Though, you could have done much better than posing as a pizza girl."
