FIC: Doctor Who: Restless 5/??
Apr. 5th, 2006 03:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zouzounakiTitle: Restless
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ghanistarkiller (Mrs Peel on A Teaspoon and an Open Mind Fanfic Archive)
Summary: The Doctor, Jack and Rose arrive in an eerily abandoned city only to find that the real puzzle lies within the walls of a drastically fenced in settlement. Just exactly what is the mysterious "illness?" What happened to make the citizens so frightened of being outside the fence after dark? And just what -or who- is dying to get in there?
Rating: NC-17
Genre(s): Horror, Mystery
Characters: The Doctor (9th), Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler
Warnings: Mixed (mostly gen/het), Swearing, Implied Sex and Dialogue
Ah, the tribal taboos of army etiquette. I find it difficult to identify with such primitive absurdities.
-The Master, The Time Monster
5.
The Doctor stood on the highest platform of the wall’s southeastern turret, his arms folded across his chest as he gazed out across the empty city. Below him, new arrivals scurrying to get in past the regs before sundown, a surge of human bodies, desperate, some pleading their case over and again. He wondered what would happen to the ones who were rejected, if it was even possible to find a safe harbor once night fell. Were the mere fodder for the insatiable dead, lambs to the slaughter, or did they run the risk of infection as well? Would some of them become the creatures they so feared by the light of day, that they cowered from by twilight? The fresher ones had to come from somewhere.
The scoots were a short distance craft and, if he had to guess, the Doctor would conjecture that they were coming from other metropolises spread across the moon’s settlement, not interplanetary in nature. Which posed the question, ‘How bad had it gotten elsewhere?’
The Time War had been waged through the upper echelons of space and time, affecting the higher species, destroying the homeworlds of countless alien life forms. It had ripped through the higher stratum, devastating all it touched. But there had been echoes as well, ripples that continued to undulate indiscernibly down through the ranks of the lower organisms, including humankind. Generating imperceptible alterations that would not have been allowed to occur had the Time Lords been policing the time and cosmos like the deities they thought they were. Subtle variations in evolution, progression, even disease, existed because of the Time War.
It wasn’t so much a case of a butterfly flapping its wings in Tokyo triggering rainfall upon New York as it was a Time Lord flips a switch across the universe and, centuries later, a million life forms never even come into existence. It didn’t do much for the Gallifreyans either.
“This illness feels wrong,” the Doctor said aloud, aware of the presence at his back. “You can feel it on the air, a sort of stale, sick taste. And its not just them out there, it’s the entire atmosphere.” He turned his face into the pale sun, squinting as he regarded the slate-coloured sky. “I reckon the change was gradual, an outbreak here and there, isolated incidents, possibly ignored at first because of the war. But always concentrated. Why d’you suppose that is?”
Valentine leaned against the handrail beside the Doctor, his fists curled around the steel bar as he looked out upon the migrant colonists swarming in the square below, struggling to take advantage of the protection the wall afforded. “I come up here to watch them, to remind myself why we do what we do.” He rubbed the short, ebony hair on his chin contemplatively. “And then I wonder how many will be alive come morning and how many will be like the others. And then I realize just how much of a morbid oik I’m being and go and get myself a cup of coffee.”
“You buying?” the Doctor grinned.
***
“Blimey!” Jess laughed huskily. “If you’d told me about that position just this morning, described it to me, I would have sworn to you that it was physiologically and anatomically impossible!”
Jack grinned lopsidedly as she leaned over the side of the cot, grinding out her cigarillo in a coffee mug resting on top of a stack of books. She was muscular, long and lean, not much of an ass but what there was of it was worth looking at. Same thing with her tits, but he’d always considered a mouthful enough anyway. She stood, her breasts jiggled lightly as she located her thong and, hopping on the balls of her feet, slipped it up over her legs, the strip of fabric settling right between those two taut cheeks that Jack just bet you could bounce a quarter off of.
“You running tonight?” he asked as she covered those pert little breasts with a severe sports bra, pulling a tank top over her head, tugging it down over the slight protrusion of her belly and the distinctive ring she wore in her navel, a tiny ornament that spelled out her call sign, Pretty Baby, in pink crystal.
“Nah,” she replied. “Don’t think Tommy’s planning one, or, if he is, he didn’t say. Leastways, not to me,” she shrugged. “I’m on wall duty, I think. It is Saturday, right?” she frowned, scratching her head as she screwed up her features in thought. Jack just shrugged with a laugh. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re not taking this seriously!”
“Do you?” he quirked a swaggering eyebrow, folding his arms behind his head.
“That is entirely,” she laughed, wagging a finger at him, “against the point. Everyone knows wall duty’s pants. It’s not like I like the runs, ‘cos I don’t,” she eyed him cautiously, careful about what she said. While his companions seemed reliable, Valentine was still not sure what to think of Jack and so he’d warned her not to let slip anything chancy, anything suspicious. “Anyways, Tommy just sticks you out there if he’s pissed at you or something. Whatever. I’ll probably just have a nap.”
“I could,” he reached forward and brushed his hand against the inside of her brawny thigh, “come and… keep you warm.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “I just bet you could!”
“How’s the leg?” he queried, inclining his head to indicate the bruised yet mending lesion on her right calf.
“This?” she scoffed, twisting her leg and craning her neck so as to have a look at the wound. As she had predicted, after the quick yet brutal process of sterilization, which included dousing it with a harsh cleansing agent that comprised of several forms of methanol and bleach, then searing it closed with a hot iron, it had healed rather swiftly. “What did I tell you? I’m made of sterner stuff, me!”
“Yeah, I’d noticed,” he smirked. “You British, with your stiff upper lips...”
“Oh, and you’d know all about that,” she gibed sportively. “Listen, Clive and Len are off tonight and rumor has it that they managed to acquire for themselves a bottle of sangria -the real thing not that synth stuff- during one of the raids, so I’m suspecting that you’ll more than have your hands full. So to speak,” she added mischievously. “Maybe even some stiff British upper lip, as well! I expect you’ll have some anecdotes to tell, if you remember anything that is, and, if you’re really lucky, a fun new nickname! Squeeze ya later,” she winked and blew him a kiss, yanking up her pants, securing her belt holster about her round hips and exiting the makeshift bunk.
“I’m holding you to that!” he called after her with a roguish grin. Gradually, his smile faded as he stretched, feeling alert, limber. He’d nearly gotten her guard down, he’d nearly done it this time but not quite. She was good. As a matter of fact, it would appear that she was as wary and watchful the Captain had suspected she would be and, if he was right, she had reason to be.
He hadn’t known Tommy long but it was clear that, beneath the debonair charm and disarming good looks, he was an easily dislikable, even dangerous man, his dashing smile hiding a perilous disregard for his fellow soldiers. The resemblance was uncomfortably pronounced, and he was all too aware of it. Though, in his defense, Jack had been a petty con man, peddling a dupe here and there. If someone had gotten hurt along the way, well, it wouldn’t have been his fault or problem, not directly. That had been his reasoning, at least.
Tommy, on the other hand, was all kinds of treacherous. They called him Patriot with good reason as he’d remained unswervingly loyal to “the Company,” Elysium Corps., despite their neglect and desertion of the colony. And heaven help the poor soul who gets between a zealot and his fanatical devotion to a cause. As far as Tommy was concerned, if one man fell, it was an honorable death, and there was always another to take his place. Some among the ranks were bound to disagree.
There were dissenters, well hidden naturally, their numbers fluctuating with each raid and some, evidently, had a tendency to simply disappear, though that was possibly just idle gossip from bored patrolmen. Jack sensed that Valentine was in the thick of it, if not at the very head of the silent rebellion. He was what they called a good man, Padjah Valentine: Tough, compassionate, a natural leader, though he lacked the persuasive, slick charisma that had kept Tommy in charge all these years.
Jess, aside from being a hell of a lot of fun, was close to Valentine, and Jack was working hard to gain her trust, though he knew instinctively just when to back off so as to not scare her away. She was a nice kid, sexy as hell and with a lot of vigour and stamina, and he admitted that he was beginning to like her. He’d certainly acknowledge enjoying her company as well as her aroused enthusiasm.
He’d been working Jono, call sign Hellblazer, too, but he’d come to believe that the young man didn’t know half as much as he’d like other people to think, even if he was a amusing diversion. And then there the twins, Hsu and Tsao. And Fon. And of course Jaye and Len. It was important to, well, pump them for information. Sometimes more than one at a time...
Damn, he thought, glancing at his watch as he picked it up off the floor; it was already well past midday. Time flies, he considered roguishly the age-old maxim. It was time to arrange an accidentally run in with the Doctor. With a sigh, he began to gather his clothing.
***
“Well, it‘s not the best” Valentine said, stretching his arms out behind his head and giving their waitress a saucy wink. “Thanks, Gina-”
“No problem, love,” answered the woman, setting a saucer and cup, which had once been white but had never been made of china, on the table in front of the Doctor. She placed a platter before each of them, containing what was, theoretically at least, bacon and eggs except that the meat was made from protein stock and the eggs were a lovely shade of pink. “You’re always welcome here, you know that. You and your friend.” She smiled lightly at the Doctor who might have flashed her what could be construed as a flirtatious smile.
“It may not be the best this side of the Celestial City 4.2,” Valentine continued his line of thought, “but it beats the sludge they brew in the barracks.”
“Good service, I’m impressed,” the Doctor raised his eyebrows in playful surprise. “They must really like you here.”
“I helped Gina out a while back, a small problem having to do with an outbreak,” explained Valentine dismissively. “I might have helped convince a few people that they were overreacting, panicking. It’s common. I try to make it less so.”
“Admirable, downright praiseworthy, from what I’ve seen of this place,” the Doctor stared Valentine straight in the eye. The other man just shrugged, sincere modesty in his countenance as he returned the Doctor’s intent gaze as he shoveled the eggs onto a fork and into his mouth. “D’you do that a lot, help people out that way?”
Valentine shrugged again. “I suppose I do, a fair bit, yeah. Listen, I never thanked you, or your friends, properly for what you did for us back there at the wall. Anyone else would have left us for dead. I haven’t gotten to know your companion, Harkness, well yet; it is my experience that we, the pats -patrol, tend to bond with each other on duty and I’ve yet to share a shift with him. But my own mates speak highly of him, and my own experience with the man leaves a favorable impression.”
“Does it?” the Doctor asked flatly, maybe even a bit hotly.
“You are such very different men, I think, to be traveling together. Which makes me wonder, does this reflect on his character or yours?” Valentine patted his mouth with his napkin lightly as he regarded the Doctor, searching for some small hint, a clue as to what to make of these new arrivals but he got none.
“The Captain and I don’t always see eye to eye on things,” replied the Doctor coolly. The man was inscrutable, Valentine decided.
“I heard him call you something curious, ‘doctor.’ Is that what you are, Doctor? Is that why you’re here?”
“You heard the Captain call me a lot of things that night,” the Doctor replied evenly and he saw the spark of curiosity ignite for a moment in Valentine’s eyes. ‘Time Lord,’ a dead nation, ancient history, a fable, the stuff of bedtime stories to most of these folks. Paj only cleared his throat and looked away, as if he were brushing the thought off.
“I’m not what you think I am,” the Doctor told him, “Elysium Corps. didn’t send me with some miracle cure, I’m not experimenting with a medicine that’ll solve all your problems. I don’t think anything could do that at this point. But I am here to help.”
“I’d sussed that much out,” said Valentine calmly. “But I guess the question really is, ‘Help who?’”
“I’m not interested in Tommy’s little game of martial supremacy,” the Doctor shook his head slowly, his blue eyes ablaze with strength, with passion. “I’m here to help people like Gina, the people out there, the people who can‘t help themselves. I teach ’em how to. This is what I do, it’s who I am. I think you’re the right person to talk to. Don’t prove me wrong.”
“Am I interrupting something?” Jack’s voice boomed confidently at Valentine’s back, the self-assured grin spreading across his smug face as he tugged at the lapels of his duster, making the tails flap sharply. “Or is this my type of conversation?”
“You’ve a lot of nerve,” the Doctor snapped crisply, knocking the wobbly table as he stood suddenly to stare the man down.
Clicky for Chapter 4
Clicky for Chapter 3
Clicky for Chapter 2
Clicky for Chapter 1
Peace, Ghani
Author:
ghanistarkiller (Mrs Peel on A Teaspoon and an Open Mind Fanfic Archive)Summary: The Doctor, Jack and Rose arrive in an eerily abandoned city only to find that the real puzzle lies within the walls of a drastically fenced in settlement. Just exactly what is the mysterious "illness?" What happened to make the citizens so frightened of being outside the fence after dark? And just what -or who- is dying to get in there?
Rating: NC-17
Genre(s): Horror, Mystery
Characters: The Doctor (9th), Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler
Warnings: Mixed (mostly gen/het), Swearing, Implied Sex and Dialogue
Ah, the tribal taboos of army etiquette. I find it difficult to identify with such primitive absurdities.
-The Master, The Time Monster
5.
The Doctor stood on the highest platform of the wall’s southeastern turret, his arms folded across his chest as he gazed out across the empty city. Below him, new arrivals scurrying to get in past the regs before sundown, a surge of human bodies, desperate, some pleading their case over and again. He wondered what would happen to the ones who were rejected, if it was even possible to find a safe harbor once night fell. Were the mere fodder for the insatiable dead, lambs to the slaughter, or did they run the risk of infection as well? Would some of them become the creatures they so feared by the light of day, that they cowered from by twilight? The fresher ones had to come from somewhere.
The scoots were a short distance craft and, if he had to guess, the Doctor would conjecture that they were coming from other metropolises spread across the moon’s settlement, not interplanetary in nature. Which posed the question, ‘How bad had it gotten elsewhere?’
The Time War had been waged through the upper echelons of space and time, affecting the higher species, destroying the homeworlds of countless alien life forms. It had ripped through the higher stratum, devastating all it touched. But there had been echoes as well, ripples that continued to undulate indiscernibly down through the ranks of the lower organisms, including humankind. Generating imperceptible alterations that would not have been allowed to occur had the Time Lords been policing the time and cosmos like the deities they thought they were. Subtle variations in evolution, progression, even disease, existed because of the Time War.
It wasn’t so much a case of a butterfly flapping its wings in Tokyo triggering rainfall upon New York as it was a Time Lord flips a switch across the universe and, centuries later, a million life forms never even come into existence. It didn’t do much for the Gallifreyans either.
“This illness feels wrong,” the Doctor said aloud, aware of the presence at his back. “You can feel it on the air, a sort of stale, sick taste. And its not just them out there, it’s the entire atmosphere.” He turned his face into the pale sun, squinting as he regarded the slate-coloured sky. “I reckon the change was gradual, an outbreak here and there, isolated incidents, possibly ignored at first because of the war. But always concentrated. Why d’you suppose that is?”
Valentine leaned against the handrail beside the Doctor, his fists curled around the steel bar as he looked out upon the migrant colonists swarming in the square below, struggling to take advantage of the protection the wall afforded. “I come up here to watch them, to remind myself why we do what we do.” He rubbed the short, ebony hair on his chin contemplatively. “And then I wonder how many will be alive come morning and how many will be like the others. And then I realize just how much of a morbid oik I’m being and go and get myself a cup of coffee.”
“You buying?” the Doctor grinned.
***
“Blimey!” Jess laughed huskily. “If you’d told me about that position just this morning, described it to me, I would have sworn to you that it was physiologically and anatomically impossible!”
Jack grinned lopsidedly as she leaned over the side of the cot, grinding out her cigarillo in a coffee mug resting on top of a stack of books. She was muscular, long and lean, not much of an ass but what there was of it was worth looking at. Same thing with her tits, but he’d always considered a mouthful enough anyway. She stood, her breasts jiggled lightly as she located her thong and, hopping on the balls of her feet, slipped it up over her legs, the strip of fabric settling right between those two taut cheeks that Jack just bet you could bounce a quarter off of.
“You running tonight?” he asked as she covered those pert little breasts with a severe sports bra, pulling a tank top over her head, tugging it down over the slight protrusion of her belly and the distinctive ring she wore in her navel, a tiny ornament that spelled out her call sign, Pretty Baby, in pink crystal.
“Nah,” she replied. “Don’t think Tommy’s planning one, or, if he is, he didn’t say. Leastways, not to me,” she shrugged. “I’m on wall duty, I think. It is Saturday, right?” she frowned, scratching her head as she screwed up her features in thought. Jack just shrugged with a laugh. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re not taking this seriously!”
“Do you?” he quirked a swaggering eyebrow, folding his arms behind his head.
“That is entirely,” she laughed, wagging a finger at him, “against the point. Everyone knows wall duty’s pants. It’s not like I like the runs, ‘cos I don’t,” she eyed him cautiously, careful about what she said. While his companions seemed reliable, Valentine was still not sure what to think of Jack and so he’d warned her not to let slip anything chancy, anything suspicious. “Anyways, Tommy just sticks you out there if he’s pissed at you or something. Whatever. I’ll probably just have a nap.”
“I could,” he reached forward and brushed his hand against the inside of her brawny thigh, “come and… keep you warm.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “I just bet you could!”
“How’s the leg?” he queried, inclining his head to indicate the bruised yet mending lesion on her right calf.
“This?” she scoffed, twisting her leg and craning her neck so as to have a look at the wound. As she had predicted, after the quick yet brutal process of sterilization, which included dousing it with a harsh cleansing agent that comprised of several forms of methanol and bleach, then searing it closed with a hot iron, it had healed rather swiftly. “What did I tell you? I’m made of sterner stuff, me!”
“Yeah, I’d noticed,” he smirked. “You British, with your stiff upper lips...”
“Oh, and you’d know all about that,” she gibed sportively. “Listen, Clive and Len are off tonight and rumor has it that they managed to acquire for themselves a bottle of sangria -the real thing not that synth stuff- during one of the raids, so I’m suspecting that you’ll more than have your hands full. So to speak,” she added mischievously. “Maybe even some stiff British upper lip, as well! I expect you’ll have some anecdotes to tell, if you remember anything that is, and, if you’re really lucky, a fun new nickname! Squeeze ya later,” she winked and blew him a kiss, yanking up her pants, securing her belt holster about her round hips and exiting the makeshift bunk.
“I’m holding you to that!” he called after her with a roguish grin. Gradually, his smile faded as he stretched, feeling alert, limber. He’d nearly gotten her guard down, he’d nearly done it this time but not quite. She was good. As a matter of fact, it would appear that she was as wary and watchful the Captain had suspected she would be and, if he was right, she had reason to be.
He hadn’t known Tommy long but it was clear that, beneath the debonair charm and disarming good looks, he was an easily dislikable, even dangerous man, his dashing smile hiding a perilous disregard for his fellow soldiers. The resemblance was uncomfortably pronounced, and he was all too aware of it. Though, in his defense, Jack had been a petty con man, peddling a dupe here and there. If someone had gotten hurt along the way, well, it wouldn’t have been his fault or problem, not directly. That had been his reasoning, at least.
Tommy, on the other hand, was all kinds of treacherous. They called him Patriot with good reason as he’d remained unswervingly loyal to “the Company,” Elysium Corps., despite their neglect and desertion of the colony. And heaven help the poor soul who gets between a zealot and his fanatical devotion to a cause. As far as Tommy was concerned, if one man fell, it was an honorable death, and there was always another to take his place. Some among the ranks were bound to disagree.
There were dissenters, well hidden naturally, their numbers fluctuating with each raid and some, evidently, had a tendency to simply disappear, though that was possibly just idle gossip from bored patrolmen. Jack sensed that Valentine was in the thick of it, if not at the very head of the silent rebellion. He was what they called a good man, Padjah Valentine: Tough, compassionate, a natural leader, though he lacked the persuasive, slick charisma that had kept Tommy in charge all these years.
Jess, aside from being a hell of a lot of fun, was close to Valentine, and Jack was working hard to gain her trust, though he knew instinctively just when to back off so as to not scare her away. She was a nice kid, sexy as hell and with a lot of vigour and stamina, and he admitted that he was beginning to like her. He’d certainly acknowledge enjoying her company as well as her aroused enthusiasm.
He’d been working Jono, call sign Hellblazer, too, but he’d come to believe that the young man didn’t know half as much as he’d like other people to think, even if he was a amusing diversion. And then there the twins, Hsu and Tsao. And Fon. And of course Jaye and Len. It was important to, well, pump them for information. Sometimes more than one at a time...
Damn, he thought, glancing at his watch as he picked it up off the floor; it was already well past midday. Time flies, he considered roguishly the age-old maxim. It was time to arrange an accidentally run in with the Doctor. With a sigh, he began to gather his clothing.
***
“Well, it‘s not the best” Valentine said, stretching his arms out behind his head and giving their waitress a saucy wink. “Thanks, Gina-”
“No problem, love,” answered the woman, setting a saucer and cup, which had once been white but had never been made of china, on the table in front of the Doctor. She placed a platter before each of them, containing what was, theoretically at least, bacon and eggs except that the meat was made from protein stock and the eggs were a lovely shade of pink. “You’re always welcome here, you know that. You and your friend.” She smiled lightly at the Doctor who might have flashed her what could be construed as a flirtatious smile.
“It may not be the best this side of the Celestial City 4.2,” Valentine continued his line of thought, “but it beats the sludge they brew in the barracks.”
“Good service, I’m impressed,” the Doctor raised his eyebrows in playful surprise. “They must really like you here.”
“I helped Gina out a while back, a small problem having to do with an outbreak,” explained Valentine dismissively. “I might have helped convince a few people that they were overreacting, panicking. It’s common. I try to make it less so.”
“Admirable, downright praiseworthy, from what I’ve seen of this place,” the Doctor stared Valentine straight in the eye. The other man just shrugged, sincere modesty in his countenance as he returned the Doctor’s intent gaze as he shoveled the eggs onto a fork and into his mouth. “D’you do that a lot, help people out that way?”
Valentine shrugged again. “I suppose I do, a fair bit, yeah. Listen, I never thanked you, or your friends, properly for what you did for us back there at the wall. Anyone else would have left us for dead. I haven’t gotten to know your companion, Harkness, well yet; it is my experience that we, the pats -patrol, tend to bond with each other on duty and I’ve yet to share a shift with him. But my own mates speak highly of him, and my own experience with the man leaves a favorable impression.”
“Does it?” the Doctor asked flatly, maybe even a bit hotly.
“You are such very different men, I think, to be traveling together. Which makes me wonder, does this reflect on his character or yours?” Valentine patted his mouth with his napkin lightly as he regarded the Doctor, searching for some small hint, a clue as to what to make of these new arrivals but he got none.
“The Captain and I don’t always see eye to eye on things,” replied the Doctor coolly. The man was inscrutable, Valentine decided.
“I heard him call you something curious, ‘doctor.’ Is that what you are, Doctor? Is that why you’re here?”
“You heard the Captain call me a lot of things that night,” the Doctor replied evenly and he saw the spark of curiosity ignite for a moment in Valentine’s eyes. ‘Time Lord,’ a dead nation, ancient history, a fable, the stuff of bedtime stories to most of these folks. Paj only cleared his throat and looked away, as if he were brushing the thought off.
“I’m not what you think I am,” the Doctor told him, “Elysium Corps. didn’t send me with some miracle cure, I’m not experimenting with a medicine that’ll solve all your problems. I don’t think anything could do that at this point. But I am here to help.”
“I’d sussed that much out,” said Valentine calmly. “But I guess the question really is, ‘Help who?’”
“I’m not interested in Tommy’s little game of martial supremacy,” the Doctor shook his head slowly, his blue eyes ablaze with strength, with passion. “I’m here to help people like Gina, the people out there, the people who can‘t help themselves. I teach ’em how to. This is what I do, it’s who I am. I think you’re the right person to talk to. Don’t prove me wrong.”
“Am I interrupting something?” Jack’s voice boomed confidently at Valentine’s back, the self-assured grin spreading across his smug face as he tugged at the lapels of his duster, making the tails flap sharply. “Or is this my type of conversation?”
“You’ve a lot of nerve,” the Doctor snapped crisply, knocking the wobbly table as he stood suddenly to stare the man down.
Clicky for Chapter 4
Clicky for Chapter 3
Clicky for Chapter 2
Clicky for Chapter 1
Peace, Ghani
