Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ Dr Who - What If ❯ Blink ( Chapter 13 )
[ A - All Readers ]
Rose stood in front of the door to the Doctor's room, and realised
that she had never actually seen inside his room before. Well, why
would she? It was always his personal space, his inner sanctum,
somewhere where he could go when he needed to be on his own. (Which
was quite a lot when she'd first met him.)
She had been past the door many times, and always thought that it
looked like it should be in a Robin Hood film. It was arched, and
apparently made of dark oak, complete with black studs and a
wrought iron ring as a handle. When the Doctor turned the ring and
pushed the door open, she expected a Hollywood style creak of
hinges.
The door swung open silently, and he led her inside by the hand. In
his other hand, he had two Champagne flutes, and an ice bucket with
a bottle of Bollinger under his arm which he had collected from the
kitchen on the way past. She hesitantly, but not reluctantly
followed him inside. She realised that this was a big step for
them; not that getting married wasn't a big step in itself.
His room was how she would expect the room of a hero prince in a
fairytale to look. It was all royal blues and purples with gold
trim, and dark wood wardrobes, dressers and a desk. There was a
sofa, and wooden chairs, all upholstered in the same lush material.
Oh, and a fabulous four poster bed that they were now heading
towards.
He put the glasses on the bedside table and the bucket on the
floor, before turning to his wife and guiding her to sit on the
edge of the bed. The mattress gave a little as she sat on it, but
it seemed neither firm nor soft. It just seemed to support her
weight perfectly. Without speaking, he popped the cork and poured
two glasses of Champagne.
He sat beside her and handed her the glass, before wrapping his arm
around hers, and they sipped their wine together. He then took the
glass off her and put them on the table again.
`Well then,' she started, awkwardly. `Here we are then.'
`Er, yes. Here we are,' he repeated, just as awkwardly.
“This is crazy!” Rose thought. It wasn't as if they
were virgins. The Doctor had let slip once that he had been a
father, and Rose had slept with Jimmy and Mickey. So why did she
feel like a teenager on her first date?
`We could . . .' `Shall I . . .' they said together, and burst out
laughing.
`Ladies first,' he said gallantly.
`Well . . . I was thinkin', y'know, first things first an' all
that,' she said, slightly embarrassed and reaching for the laces on
her bodice. `I'd best take this off.'
He stayed her hands. `Ah, ah, Mistress Rose. I think you will find
that it's my privilege to do that,' and then thought he was being a
bit presumptuous. `I mean, if that's all right with you?'
She looked surprised, and then excited. `Ooh, yeah. Go on
then.'
And so he did undress her, very slowly, and oh so carefully, and
they consummated their marriage. For a long time they just lay
there, unspeaking, their breathing and heart rates returning to
some semblance of normality. The Doctor had his head resting beside
hers, his chin on her collarbone, his lips gently kissing her neck.
Rose had her arms wrapped around his chest, hugging him as though
she wanted him to stay there forever.
`Phew!' she breathed, finally managing to get her brain working
again.
`Phew indeed,' he said, pushing himself up on his arms and arching
his back. `I had heard about the human female orgasm, but I thought
it was an exaggeration.'
`Heard about it?'
`Yeah, it's famous in this part of the galaxy, in a tabloid,
sensational gossip magazine sort of way.'
Rose looked quite pleased with herself. `Oh, right. I'm famous,'
she giggled.
He rolled off her and reached the glasses of Champagne, handing one
to Rose, and supporting his head on his hand as he sipped his drink
and looked at his radiant wife.
`What?' she asked him, gazing into his dark, loving eyes.
He waggled his eyebrows. `There's something I didn't tell you about
my superior Gallifreyan biology.'
`Oh yeah. And what's that then?' she asked, waiting for him to brag
about being superior to humans again.
`Well, it's just that . . . I can keep it up all night if you
like.'
Rose's mouth fell open and her eyes went wide, `You are kiddin'
me!' She took his glass off him and put them both on the table,
before rolling him onto his back. `We are going to take this
tradition to the max.'
It was late morning in the TARDIS when the newlywed couple started
to stir. They had fallen into an exhausted sleep in the early hours
of the morning, after a marathon session of lovemaking. They had
certainly made up for the years of lost time. Rose lay by the
Doctor's right side under the duvet, with her right leg across his
thighs. She awoke with the memory of a really erotic dream which
started with them getting married, and ended with . . . well, lets
just say it was pretty damn amazing.
Confusingly, she felt an arm around her shoulders, and felt a warm
body against hers. Was it a time travelling thing, and she was back
in Mickey's flat, the last few years having been a dream? When she
opened her eyes and saw the smiling face of the Doctor, the
confusion evaporated and she knew her dream had come true.
`Morning,' he said, leaning down and kissing her forehead.
`Mornin',' she yawned. She snuggled up to him and started gently
tracing circles around his left nipple.
They lay there cuddling for a long while, basking in their love for
each other, and wondering why the hell they hadn't done this
earlier. Rose heard his stomach gurgle, and realised that it was
time to have some breakfast.
`Fancy a fry up?' she asked him.
`Ooh, that's a good idea. I'll do it,' he said.
She put her hand on his chest. `No you won't! You stay here and
conserve your strength, stud,' she told him as she climbed out of
the bed.
`Stud?' He sniffed and smiled. `Stud . . . right.' Rose laughed as
she crossed to the door, and he admired her wiggling bum as it left
the room.
Rose brought the bacon and egg fry ups on floating trays, with mugs
of tea as well. She climbed under the duvet and kissed his cheek,
before tucking in to her breakfast. She looked down at her wedding
ring, and remembered that she had a question for him.
`I meant to ask you . . . the symbol on our rings, its Gallifreyan
isn't it?'
`Mmm,' he said as he swallowed a mouthful. `It's the character for
eternity. It's forever.'
`Oh God, that's beautiful.' She dabbed her mouth with her napkin
and kissed his cheek again.
`Now, there is another Earth tradition connected to marriage, and
that's the honeymoon,' she said with a smile.
`Sorted,' he told her. `I thought, start close to home with the
Syrtis Major Pleasure dome on Mars in 2112.' He took a sip of his
tea. `Then the leisure planets of the 23rd century. The Leisure
Hive of Argolis in the Mutter's Spiral, and Limnos 4, Abydos, and
Fiesta 95 in the Rim Worlds. How does that sound?'
`Sounds wonderful. What are they like these leisure planets?'
`They're state-of-the-art in contemporary entertainments and
methods of relaxation. They offer a wide variety of different
possibilities, such as health spa's, anti-gravity restaurants,
zero-gravity swimming pools, sleep-reading stations, and
accelerated learning experiences. Ooh, and the zero-gravity
volleyball is hilarious.'
`I can't wait.'
`Well, eat up, put some clothes on and we'll be on our way.'
`Oh, well. I can wait a little bit. I mean, we are in bed, and we
are naked,' she said, floating the tray off her lap and reaching
beneath the duvet.
`Mistress Rose! I doth believe thou art a little minx.'
`And I doth think thou might be right,' she said, disappearing
under the duvet.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
`Zero-gravity volleyball,' Rose laughed as they walked up the ramp
towards the console. `'Who's idea was that, `cos it's brilliant.'
She dropped her holdall on the floor grating under the console.
`It was some entrepreneur on Abydos, and we have got to try it
again sometime,' he told her, throwing his long coat over the coral
strut. The game was played in a spherical, padded room, with a
circular net running around the diameter. A team in each hemisphere
had to hit a ball through the hole in the middle and get it to hit
the wall opposite to score a point.
`Definitely. So what's been goin' on in the universe while we've
been away?'
`So, the honeymoon's over then. Back to the day job of exploring
and adventuring.'
She came up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist.
`Everyday with you is a honeymoon.'
He turned his head, and she kissed his lips. `Ah. Rose Tyler. You
say the nicest things.
`Oi! I'm Mrs. Lungbarrowmas now,' she reminded him.
He waggled his eyebrows with a mischievous grin and checked the
monitor. 'What about a `Scooby-Doo' style mystery?' he asked
her.
'Yeah, go on then; do I get to peel the mask off the bad guy at the
end?' she said with a laugh.
'I'd have gotten away with it, if it wasn't for you pesky kids,' he
replied, laughing with her. 'Well, this has got all the
ingredients, a big, old, empty house, and people disappearing.'
'Sounds perfect.'
'And something Scooby doesn't have; temporal disturbances.' He
threw the switch, slammed the lever, and the TARDIS wheezed across
the Vortex. 'Allonz-y.'
'So, where are we then,' Rose asked as she felt the TARDIS land
with a gentle bump.
He did his "Vincent Price" voice. 'Wester Drumlin,' he said,
shutting down the console.
'Ooh, it even sounds like something out of Scooby-Doo,' she
said.
He grabbed his long coat and pulled it on, then took her hand and
led her down the ramp. `Come on then Velma, let's go take a
look.'
`Velma? I'll have you know I'm the beautiful Daphne,' she said,
tugging down her T-shirt, and smoothing her leather skirt.
`Shaggy,' she finished.
He pulled up by the doors. `Shaggy?' he asked her, and then thought
about it. He gave her his boyish grin. `Yeah, you're right.'
He opened the door, and they stepped out. While he turned to close
the door, Rose asked a very good question. `Why d'ya think they've
got statues in the basement? Is it a workshop or somethin'?'
He turned around and held her hand in alarm. `Those aren't statues.
They're . . .'
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
'Yup. That's me,' the Doctor said, reading Sally Sparrow's
narrative off the autocue.
'Yes, I do,' he said.
'Yup, and this.' He nodded his head to the side.
He frowned. 'Are you going to read out the whole thing?
'I'm a time traveller. Or I was. I'm stuck in 1969.'
"Hang on", Rose thought, this isn't all about him. She moved from
behind the camera and into view of the lens. 'We're stuck. For
better, for worse, for richer, for poorer we promised each other.
But I'm the one who's got a job in a shop. I've gotta support
him!'
With her experience of working in Henrick's, Rose had managed to
get a job in the newly opened clothing store Biba, on Kensington
High Street. It was the same boring job, but one perk was that she
got to wear some cool, retro 1960's designer gear. Because of her
good looks and "fit" body, the manageress had her wearing the
latest outfits to promote them to the customers.
At the moment, she was wearing a rather daring, white, Mary Quant
crocheted mini dress, with white PVC boots. It was a bit
distracting when the Doctor was trying to keep track of the
transcript. He pointed at the camera. 'Rose?'
'Sorry,' she said sullenly, and moved back behind the camera.
'Quite possibly.' He continued his one sided conversation. 'Afraid
so . . . Thirty eight . . . Er, ah, yeah, people don't understand
time. It's not what you think it is,' he said, in response to Sally
asking him to explain how he can be speaking to her from thirty
eight years in the past. He had to be careful, if she knew too
much, it might influence her actions.
'Complicated . . . Very complicated.'
He paused, as he thought about how best to explain time travel.
'People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to
effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint,
it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey . . .
stuff.' That didn't go well.
'It got away from me, yeah . . . Well, I can hear you . . . Well,
not hear you, exactly, but I know everything you're going to say .
. . Look to your left,' he said, nodding his head to his right.
He continued reading the transcript, nodding his head in agreement,
and then pointed at the autocue. 'I've got a copy of the finished
transcript. It's on my autocue.'
'I told you. I'm a time traveller. I got it in the future,' he said
in a matter of fact voice.
'Yeahhh. Wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey.' He waved his hand back and
forth in dismissal.
'What matters is, we can communicate,' he said, finger and thumb
tip together. 'We have got big problems now. They have taken the
blue box, haven't they? The angels have the phone box . . .
Creatures from another world . . . Only when you see them . . . The
lonely assassins, they used to be called. No one quite knows where
they came from, but they're as old as the universe, or very nearly,
and they have survived this long because they have the most perfect
defence system ever evolved. They are quantum-locked. They don't
exist when they're being observed. The moment they are seen by any
other living creature, they freeze into rock. No choice. It's a
fact of their biology. In the sight of any living thing, they
literally turn to stone. And you can't kill a stone. Of course, a
stone can't kill you either. But then you turn your head away, then
you blink, and oh yes it can.' He hoped that explanation was
sufficient to make them realise how much danger they were in.
'That's why they cover their eyes. They're not weeping. They can't
risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest
curse. They can never be seen. The loneliest creatures in the
universe. And I'm sorry. I am very, very sorry. It's up to you now
. . . The blue box, it's my time machine. There is a world of time
energy in there they could feast on forever, but the damage they
could do could switch off the sun. You have got to send it back to
me.'
'Aaaand that's it, I'm afraid. There's no more from you on the
transcript, that's the last I've got. I don't know what stopped you
talking, but I can guess. They're coming. The angels are coming for
you. But listen, your life could depend on this. Don't blink. Don't
even blink. Blink and you're dead. They are fast. Faster than you
can believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink
. . . good luck.'
'And cut,' Rose said, stopping the camera. 'Was that
everythin'?'
'For now, yes, I'll have to encode some digital information onto
the audio track for the TARDIS, so that she'll initiate security
protocol seven one two when the recording is taken on board.'
'Seven one two?'
'Yeah, single journey that will lock onto my Artron energy
signature, like a homing device.'
'Clever,' she said with a smile. 'Come on, I'm cookin' shepherd's
pie for tea.'
The next evening, after Rose had finished working in the clothing
store; and had changed out of her classic black and white vinyl
dress. And after she'd cooked their tea, and made her husband do
the washing up, they set off with the timey-wimey detector that
he'd been working on while she was at work.
Detective Inspector Billy Shipton staggered backwards against the
wall of the alleyway and slid down to the ground. He was dizzy and
nauseous, and he could hear a ringing, beeping, dinging in his
ears. No, wait a minute, he could actually hear a beeping and a
ding, and it was getting closer.
'Welcome,' a "too cheerful for how he was feeling" voice said.
'Where am I?' he asked the tall, thin man in the brown coat, who
was listening to a single earpiece plugged into a retro looking
radio.
'Nineteen sixty nine. Not bad, as it goes. You've got the moon
landing to look forward to,' the spiky haired man said.
'Oh, the moon landing's brilliant. We went four times . . . back
when we had transport,' the cute blonde woman said accusingly.
'Working on it,' the man said.
'How did I get here?' Billy asked him.
'The same way we did. The touch of an angel. Same one, probably,
since you ended up in the same year.'
Billy tried to stand. 'No, no. No, no, no, don't get up. Time
travel without a capsule. Nasty. Catch your breath. Don't go
swimming for half an hour.' The tall man climbed through the red
guard rails, and sat down beside him.
'I don't. I can't,' he mumbled in confusion.
'Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels,' the man said, looking up
into the night sky. 'The only psychopaths in the universe to kill
you nicely. No mess, no fuss, they just zap you into the past and
let you live to death. The rest of your life used up and blown away
in the blink of an eye. You die in the past, and in the present
they consume the energy of all the days you might have had. All
your stolen moments. They're creatures of the abstract. They live
off potential energy.'
Billy screwed his face up. 'What in God's name are you talking
about?'
The blonde looked down at him and smiled. 'Trust me. Just nod when
he stops for breath. That's what I do.'
He opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again, looking up at
the blonde with a frown, before starting to talk again. 'Tracked
you down with this.' The man held up a 1960's radio, with a
recording reel rotating on it. 'This is my timey-wimey detector. It
goes ding when there's stuff. Also, it can boil an egg at thirty
paces, whether you want it to or not, actually, so I've learned to
stay away from hens. It's not pretty when they blow.'
'I don't understand. Where am I?' Billy asked angrily. He was in
shock, only moments ago he'd been in basement garage of the
station.
'1969, like he says,' the blonde told him.
'Normally, I'd offer you a lift home, but somebody nicked my motor.
So I need you to take a message to Sally Sparrow,' the man
said.
Sally Sparrow, what had she got to do with all this? He'd only
asked her for her phone number. He realised that the man was still
talking, his voice now tinged with sadness.
'And I'm sorry, Billy, I am very, very sorry . . . It's going to
take you a while.'
'How long?' Billy asked.
'We'll talk about that later maybe,' the man said, starting to
stand up.
Billy grabbed his arm firmly. 'How long?'
The tall, thin man, with spiky hair, gave him such a sad look,
which gave him the answer, even before he spoke. 'A life time.'
'Who are you people, how do you know all this?'
'I'm Rose,' the blonde said holding her hand out to be shaken. 'And
this is my husband, the Doctor.'
'Doctor who?'
'Just the Doctor,' Rose said.
They helped him to his feet, and made sure the dizziness had
passed.
'Come on, we've got a spare room back at our place for you, and
then in the morning, we can discuss the future.'
In the morning, Rose made breakfast for them all, and they tried to
explain what was happening to Billy. The Doctor started to brief
Billy on what he needed to know.
'I've written the things you need to know in this notebook,' the
Doctor told him, taking a small, paperback notebook out of a small
holdall. 'Keep it safe, and try and memorise everything in it.'
'What's in it, does it tell my future?'
The Doctor frowned, trying to think of the correct phrase. 'More of
a guide to your future. There are some definite no-no's, like Sally
Sparrow, DO NOT try to contact her before the allotted time.'
'Which is?' Billy asked, raising his eyebrows.
The Doctor hesitated, his face sad. 'I'm sorry Billy . . . but it's
the day you die. If you try and contact her before then, you'll
create a causal feedback loop paradox, and tear a hole in the
fabric of space and time, which will destroy two thirds of the
universe.'
'Just nod,' Rose said helpfully.
'The same goes for historic events from now until 2007, stay out of
them, let them happen. I take care of anything that needs to be
prevented.'
'Really,' Billy said sceptically.
'Yeah, really. Remember Ten Downing Street being hit by an Exocet?
That was us.'
'We were put on terror alert when that happened,' Billy told
him.
'Sorry about that, had to stop aliens from taking over the Earth.
Oh, and the ghosts turning into robots, fighting the flying pepper
pots in the skies around Canary Wharf . . . hang on, that sounds
like a pop group.'
'What does?' Rose asked in confusion.
'The Flying Pepper pots, you should write that down Billy . . .
sorry, where was I? Oh yes, Canary Wharf; that was us sending them
to Hell. Rose did a brilliant improvised safety line with a pair of
trousers.'
Rose noticed that Billy was looking confused again. `Nod,' she said
helpfully.
'Just let things happen as you remember them,' the Doctor told
him.
'Okay,' Billy said, thumbing through the notebook. 'What about my
career, will I be able to pick up where I left off?'
The Doctor shook his head. 'People aren't as enlightened as they
are in the twenty first century, prejudice is rife I'm afraid,' he
said sadly.
'Anyway Billy-Boy, you get into publishing,' the Doctor said,
reaching into his pocket and taking out a roll of notes. 'Take this
money, and spend the day looking for a job. We've got some
decorating to do, so we'll see you back here this evening for the
final briefing.'
'Hey, that's my money!' Rose said in protest, she'd worked for days
in the clothing shop to earn that.
'And after this evening, we won't need it,' the Doctor told
her.
'What, it's happening tonight?' she asked excitedly.
'Yep, yesterday, the owners of Wester Drumlin went away on a luxury
holiday they won in a competition . . . Funny that, I don't think
they even entered a competition.'
'How could you possibly know that?' Rose asked.
'Because I thought of it and it happened, which means that when we
get the TARDIS back, I arrange for them to win a holiday
competition.'
'That's brilliant!' she exclaimed.
'TARDIS?' Billy asked.
They both looked at him. 'It's complicated,' they said
together.
So, there they were, back at Wester Drumlin with a holdall full of
rolls of wallpaper, a packet of paste, scissors, a scraper, a
wooden spoon, some brushes, and a pack of wax crayons. They stood,
looking at the regency fireplace, with the candelabra light
fittings on the wall, and the ripped corner of paper that the
Doctor had taken the day before to get a match.
'Right, I'll start stripping the rest of the paper off, you go and
see if you can find a bucket to mix the paste in,' he said as he
dropped the holdall on the floor, and took out the scraper.
The Doctor had made really good progress when she returned, and
standing on a table that he had moved over to the fireplace, he was
carefully removing the uppermost parts of the paper. He took out
the packet of crayons, and selected a black one before approaching
the wall.
'Here we go then, time to write Sally the message,' he said and he
wrote “BEWARE THE WEEPING ANGEL”.
'I've been wondering, how does this work then, y'know, when does
the TARDIS come back?' Rose asked him.
He wrote “OH, AND DUCK” as he explained. 'When this
message is complete, and we've covered it with wallpaper, we go
back to Billy and give him the list of seventeen DVD's and the reel
of film that he will eventually record onto those DVD's. When we do
that, the circle is complete, Sally and Larry do their bit, they
put the DVD in the TARDIS console, and it appears in front of us as
Billy takes the list and reel off us.' He wrote “NO REALLY,
DUCK!”
'Wow! How do you do that?' she asked in admiration.
'Years of practice,' he said as he finished “SALLY SPARROW
DUCK, NOW”. 'Okay, let's cut the paper to size.'
By the end of the afternoon, Wester Drumlins was back to how it had
been before the owners had left. No one would be any the wiser that
a message had been left on the wall over the fireplace.
Billy Shipton walked into the flat and walked over to them, he had
a bemused smile on his face.
'How did it go Billy?' Rose asked.
'Well, that's the weird thing,' he said frowning. 'I went to the
Job Centre to register, except it's called the Employment Exchange
in this day and age, and then it hit me, I don't exist here, no
birth certificate, no National Insurance number, no NHS number,
nothing.'
'Oh God, I hadn't thought about that, what happened?'
'I gave them my name, the day, and month of my birth, and then
hesitated about the year, I mean, it was . . . or will be 1980, but
they found me, born on the eighth of October, 1942. I have a
National Insurance number, and an NHS number, I mean; tell me, how
can that be?'
Rose looked at the Doctor, and he waggled his eyebrows with a
smile. 'I think you'll find you've got a bank account as well, with
some funds in it to get you started.'
Billy just looked at them, stunned into silence. Rose hugged him
and gave him a kiss on the cheek, before walking over to the
Doctor. 'Is there no end to your talents?'
'Not found one yet,' he said with a cheeky grin. The Doctor took a
piece of paper out of his pocket, along with a yellow foil packet.
'This is a list of seventeen films that you will publish on DVD's
in the future,' he said handing it over.
Billy looked at the list and laughed. 'These are mostly `chick
flicks'.' And then he had a realisation. 'These are Sally Sparrows
DVD's, aren't they, how can you possibly know this?'
'Yes they are, I can't tell you how I know, and you can't tell her
either Billy. One day she'll work it out for herself,' the Doctor
told him quietly.
'And now, the final piece of the puzzle.' He held out the yellow
foil packet. 'This is a recording that has to be hidden on those
seventeen DVD's, it's imperative that it's reproduced
perfectly.'
Billy took the offered packet, and they heard the sound of time and
space being bent out of shape.
'Ah, that's our ride.' He held his hand out, one last time, and
Billy shook it. 'Thank you Billy Shipton, you've saved the Earth
from destruction by a quantum locked life form.'
Billy looked, open mouthed at the TARDIS as it appeared in the
flat. 'It was yours all along . . . the dummy police box . . . it
was yours.'
The Doctor patted the wooden exterior with affection. 'Yep, best
set of wheels in the universe.'
Rose gave Billy a long, long hug. 'I'm sorry you can't come with
us, but like he said, we need you to save the universe, and there
aren't many who can say they've done that.'
'It's certainly something to put on my C.V,' he said with a
smile.
Rose released him from the hug, and the Doctor opened the TARDIS
door. She went inside and the Doctor stood in the doorway, looking
at Billy.
'Doctor, your notebook says that I'll meet Sally again . . . on the
day that I die . . .'
'Yeah, you have a long and happy life to live before then, so don't
be too eager, but when you meet her, you'll have until the rain
stops.' Billy nodded his understanding, and the Doctor nodded back.
Without another word, he stepped inside the TARDIS and closed the
door.