Dark Holiday, a doctor who fanfic

Doctor Who: Dark Holiday

*(Completed 4th June, 2008.)

CHAPTER ONE

It was an overcast day in late May, as a bleak wind moaned over the barren moor. It bent the grasses and flowers, carrying with it the vague dampness of rain, which was falling in the distant mountains.

Anne Clark was at her wit's end. She and her twelve year old son Jimmy were on their way to a holiday camp in the mountains for the weekend, when a tyre on her car had developed a puncture. She'd opened the boot, only to discover that the spare tyre had somehow gone missing. Now, she and Rory were alone by the side of the road, miles from nowhere, hoping for help to arrive.

Sitting on the front passenger seat of his mother's Skoda, facing backwards, and looking down the road,

"Try it again?" Jimmy mumbled disconsolately.

His mother only shook her head.

"It's no use, Jimmy." She said, looking helplessly at the mobile, clutched uselessly in her hand, "I can't get a signal. We'll just have to wait for someone to happen by."

Anne looked at her son. His blond hair was tousled by the wind, as he stared sullenly down the empty valley. She glanced ahead, up the long hill, hoping against hope to see another vehicle appear like magic over the rise. But, after four hours of waiting, they were still alone, with nothing but each other and the ever-present mountain winds, for company. Jimmy shifted restlessly in the seat.

"I'm hungry," he sulked, "and cold. Some holiday this turned out to be."

"Oh, stop your complaining, Jimmy." She frowned at him. "If you're cold, put on your anorak, for goodness sake. Besides, where's your sense of adventure?"

She brushed a strand of her long brown hair from her eyes, forcing herself to smile.

"Trust me, someday you and your mates will get a laugh out of all of this." Jimmy simply rolled his eyes and said nothing.

Anne sighed and leaned her head back against the driver's seat. Just then, over the wind, she thought she heard a noise.

"Mum!" Jimmy exclaimed, pointing a finger at a speck down the road, his eyes filled with relief that his temporary imprisonment with his sometimes over-protective mother might finally be ending, "I think someone's coming!"

With a rush of relief, Anne got out of the car. Shading her eyes against the mid-afternoon glare, Anne followed the direction of her son's finger, as he pointed down the valley. There, in the distance, a vehicle was slowly winding its way up the long road. She anxiously watched what looked like a blue motor home, crawling along the narrow pavement with a wretched grinding of it gears.

As it finally came up to them, it stopped. Admonishing Jimmy to stay put, Anne walked over to the driver's side window of the old Morris camper. Her son angrily slumped down in the seat, pouting.

"I'm not a child, you know." Jimmy mumbled crossly, watching his mum approach the camper.

His mum stood on tiptoe next to the rolled down window. She looked hopefully up at the driver, a thin, elderly white-haired gentleman wearing dark sunglasses.

"Can you help me, please?" She asked him.

He leaned his head out of the window and smiled down at her.

"What's the matter love? Have a break-down, did you?" The old man asked cheerfully.

Before Anne could reply, the man's wife, a sturdy woman with neatly styled silver hair, wearing a blue and white cotton dress and a long gray cardigan jumper, had already climbed down from the passenger seat of their beat-up camper. She tottered over to commiserate with Anne. In a motherly fashion, the old woman held Anne's hand and was clucking over her misfortune.

"It's a good thing we happened along, isn't it dear? You could have been out here all day! Hardly anyone takes this road any longer, since they put in that new motorway." The old woman told her.

Neither of the pensioners in the camper seemed to notice Jimmy still sitting in the car, as she steered Anne to the side door of the vehicle.

"My name's Emma, by the way, Emma Plock." She spoke rapidly, "Come on now, why don't I make you a quick cuppa' tea, while my John sees to your motor, alright?"

Before Anne could protest, the woman had bustled her inside the cramped interior of the camper. Anne never noticed that John never got out of the old Morris, never had time to realize that the old man hadn't even bothered to switch off the engine. In fact, Anne never noticed anything else, ever again.

Jimmy cried out for his mum, as he heard his mum's terrified scream from inside the old motor home. He rushed out of the car calling for his mum, but it was too late, the camper was already driving away. Inside, the two old people were laughing.

Glowing brightly green, the TARDIS' central column slowly rose and fell, its ancient engines sounding like an out-of-tune musical saw. The Doctor was leaning back casually against the console chair, absently watching it move. His friend Donna, came into the room, dressed casually in designer jeans and a burgundy jumper.

"I'm ready," she announced cheerfully. The Doctor looked at her, raising an eyebrow in puzzlement.

"Ready for what?" He asked, his face clearly showing he was clueless. Putting her hands on her hips, Donna frowned at him.

"For wherever we're going." Then, frowning deeper, she asked, "We ARE going somewhere, Doctor? I mean, you're not just taking the TARDIS out to some cosmic garage for it's ten-thousand light year oil change, or something, are you?"

The Doctor merely raised his other eyebrow at her.

"Do you want me to stop nagging you?" Donna asked sarcastically, tilting her head at him.

The Doctor looked as if he was tempted to say yes, but instead sprang to his feet and began piloting his ship, in his usual frantic manner.

"Right! No sense hanging around the space-time vortex being a Time-Lord slacker, not my style really. What do you say we go have ourselves a bit of a lark, eh? I'm sure it must be a nice day out there in the universe, somewhere. Why don't we just let the TARDIS take us someplace where we can go for a nice stroll in the sunshine, have a nosh, do the pub quiz, watch the footie-that is what you humans do on weekends, isn't it? I'm always a tad confused about human's ideas of relaxation..."

In that vein, Donna silently let the Doctor gabble away. as he gamboled about the console deck. A few minutes later, the TARDIS re-materialized near a rock outcrop, on a windswept moor. Shrugging into his coat, the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS door, looking around at the bleak landscape.

"Are you sure we're on Earth? Looks sort of alien to me." Donna asked, skeptically.

The Doctor sniffed loudly.

"Do you need a tissue?" Donna asked, "Just do me a favour and say yes...I'd rather you didn't use your sleeve again..."

The doctor put up a hand and shushed her.

"I'm fine, Donna. I was just checking the air. Smells like England, to me." She looked at the distant hills.

"But, where are..." His friend began to ask. Suddenly looking alert, the Doctor put up a finger and shushed her again.

"Not now, Donna. Just be quiet for a moment, and let me listen, alright?" She shook her head, confused.

"I don't hear anything, Doctor. Just the wind."

Then, Donna did hear something. Like a keening sound., being carried on the wind.

"What is that?" She asked.

But, she was asking thin air, because the Doctor was already sprinting away from her, down the grassy slope. Following carefully in his wake, Donna saw the Doctor run behind a large outcropping of rock. She came around the jagged stones, and slid to a halt.

There, Donna saw the Doctor standing over a body. A young girl, about fifteen years old, was sat on the stony ground, holding the head of a young man, in her lap.

The young boy, who appeared to be the same age, was dressed in a long coat and corduroy trousers, and had a tweed cap on his tousled head. Donna reckoned that judging by the the boy's and girl's clothing, she and the Doctor must have gone back to perhaps the late 19th or early 20th century.

However, it was the lad's face that most attracted Donna's attention. He had no colour at all-it was as if the boy had been completely drained. The Doctor crouched beside the boy, his face seemed suddenly creased with tiredness and age.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I'm so sorry."

The boy lay sprawled out on his back, eyes wide in his final moment of terror. One hand still was dug into the earth, clutching the mud and stones beside him. The lonely wind whistled between the cold, unforgiving stones, punctuated by the girls sobs.

Donna went over and put a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. Strands of the girl's dark hair were plastered to the side of her face, clinging to the tears that coursed down her cheeks.

"It's alright, we're here now." She said in a comforting voice.

The girl's long brown dress was muddy and torn. Without looking at Donna or the Doctor, she began rocking back and forth and starting rambling.

"Phineas has been missing for two days. I was so worried about him. He was to meet me near the Hopewell bridge, Thursday night. I think he was going to ask me to the dance at the school, he seemed so nervous." Trying to stifle a sob the girl continued, "P-poor Phin was always so shy. It took him months just to get 'round to kissin' me, and even then it was only a quick peck on the cheek! She stroked the boy's cold waxy forehead. "He was so good to me. Always had a smile for me, always there, looking out for me, making sure I wanted for nothing. I-I can't believe he's gone." For the first time, she looked up tearfully at Donna, "Who could have done this awful thing to him? My Phin wouldn't have harmed a fly. I don't understand."

Donna looked up at the Doctor, as if waiting for him to say something. For just a moment, the Doctor simply crouched there, silent and grave. While the girl was talking, he'd been surreptitiously examining the boy's body for signs of how he'd died. Now, the Doctor brooded over a discovery he'd made, wondering how much he could actually tell the grief-stricken young woman, without driving her over the edge into madness. He signed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"What's your name?" The Doctor asked softly. He reached into his coat pocket and handed her some tissues. She took them without seeming to really notice them. "

"Cath...Catherine." the girl sniffed, wiping her wet face, "Catherine Weaver."

The Doctor looked into her eyes, trying to maintain eye contact. The first thing he needed to do was to draw the girl's focus away from the corpse, so he could get some answers out of her.

"Well, Catherine, I'm the Doctor and this is Donna." He said evenly. "We're going to need to ask you a few questions, and I want you to try and answer them as best you can, alright? We're too late to help Phineas, but if whoever did this is still out there, you can help us to prevent any more deaths like this. Do you understand?"

Catherine gave him a bewildered look, and Donna leaned against the girl, motherly stroking her hair.

"It's alright, you can trust him." Donna said to her with a confident smile, "The Doctor wants to make sure no one else has to go through what you're feeling right now."

Catherine looked up at the Doctor and nodded her assent. The Doctor gave her a smile of encouragement in return.

"That's a girl," the Doctor said gently. You're very brave, Catherine Weaver. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

Standing, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets, looking down at the girl sitting beside her dead lover.

"You said Kevin went missing on Thursday. Do you have any idea where he was going, or why he might have ended up way out here?" The Doctor asked.

Catherine shook her head, then looked off pensively at the distant mountains, the wind causing her hair to steam out behind her. After collecting her thoughts for a moment, she spoke.

"I don't know." Catherine told him, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, "He sometimes went out walking here on the moor, because he said he liked the open places, that being out here made him feel free, somehow. He was an orphan on the streets in London, when he was twelve, he got collared by the police for stealing an orange, and spent a year in jail. Never liked closed spaces, after that."

"A year in jail for stealing an orange!" Donna gasped.

The Doctor waved her to silence.

"Not now, Donna. You can be outraged later." The Doctor told her, as he squatted down again next to Catherine. "I need you to think, try and remember, was there anyone else around, that day? Maybe some stranger, or someone new to the area?"

The young girl thought about it and shook her head in the negative.

"There's been no strangers through the village in a couple of weeks," Catherine informed him, "and the only new people are a young newlywed couple, who'll be spending their summers here. They've rented old Mrs. Gavin's cottage, down by the river."

The Doctor looked up thoughtfully.

"Have they?" He murmured. "That's interesting. What do you know about them? I mean, is there anything different about them? Anything unusual you've noticed, anything at all, no matter how so small?" The Doctor urged her.

Catherine seemed to draw a blank for a moment, and started to answer 'no', when she stopped.

What is it?" The Doctor asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Well, I don't know if it's all that unusual." Catherine answered, "But, my Uncle George owns the village shop, and sometimes I help him out on Saturday mornings. I've noticed that the young lady, Mrs. Williams, buys an awful lot of salt. I overheard her ask my uncle if she could place a special order for a barrel. Took Uncle George by surprise, that did!"

The Doctor dug his hands down into his coat pockets and began pacing furiously. Donna bent down, and helped the girl up.

"Come on, you'll catch your death down there. We'll take you home, and see that your Kevin is seen to." Donna assured her, as she gently turned Catherine away, so she was no longer facing the boy's body. "Tell me," Donna asked, "did that woman ever give your uncle a reason for needing so much salt?"

The Doctor whirled around and stood there, looking intently at Donna and the girl, standing side by side.

"That's the other strange thing." Catherine nodded, "I heard her say she was preserving some meat. Yet later, when her husband came in to pick up the barrel of salt, he claimed that they needed it because they had a bad infestation of slugs."

Donna glanced at the Doctor and they simultaneously raised their eyebrows.

Then, sadness returned to the Doctor's face, as he squatted down and closed young Kevin's eyes. Straightening again, his eyes were afire with determination to seek out the truth.

"Right!" The Doctor exclaimed. "I think we'll see Catherine home, and then pay a little visit on this Mrs. Williams-maybe I can put a little salt under her tail, and get some answers."

Pushing open the wooden gate which lead to a small stone cottage, the Doctor paused and looked around. Donna noted that the place seemed deserted, with only a few scattered sheep, grazing upon the hillside behind the back garden.

"What do 'ya think?" Donna asked, "Shall we invite ourselves to tea?"

The Doctor turned and raised an eyebrow, then grinned at her.

"Not a bad idea, Donna. Oooh, I hope she'll serve some cake and sandwiches. I'm feeling a bit peckish." The Doctor told her.

The Time Lord gazed at the house, then at the sheep on the hill, gesturing to them.

"You think if I asked them nicely," the Doctor said cheekily, " they might know if anything baaa-d may have happened, 'round these parts?"

Donna glanced at the animals feeding peacefully on the meadow.

"Unless your real name is Doctor Dolittle," Donna told him with a smirk, "I'd say that's probably a baaa-d idea."

The Doctor winced good-naturedly, then faced the little flock and called out a deep-voiced, "BAAAHHH"-which came out sounding not so much as a sheep's bleat, as more of a loud belch.

The sheep on the hillside ceased their grazing, stared for a moment in the Doctor's direction, and then bolted away to another part of the pasture.

"The Doctor. The terror of the Daleks, Pyroviles and sheep." Donna laughed. Come on," she nudged him, "you big...sheep scarer. Let's try the bell, shall we?"

Giving the fleeing animals a disgruntled look, the Doctor shrugged and trudged up the path to the front door.

Donna was about to ring the bell pull, when the door abruptly swung open in their faces. A young woman stood there, looking expectantly at them. She seemed to be in her early twenties and was rather plain looking, with short straight brown hair. Her slightly bovine face and drab gray dress might have made her seem somewhat frumpish, yet the young woman was wearing a pleasant smile, as if she was delighted to have company.

"There you are! Have a nice walk from the village, did you?" The frumpy woman asked.

The Doctor and Donna exchanged looks, raising their eyebrows. He shrugged as if to say, he didn't have a clue, either.

"Hello! I'm the Doctor and this is Donna. And you must be Mrs. Williams. Very nice to meet you." He rattled off, giving the woman his brightest smile. "I must say, Mrs., that yes, it is a cracking day for a ramble, but Donna and were a bit parched, so we'd thought we'd pop 'round for a spot of tea and a nice chat. I love a chat and a cuppa', don't you, Donna?" The Doctor prattled on, " I could do with some cake and sandwiches, though. Especially cucumber and egg, I like cucumber and egg sandwiches, just the thing for a late afternoon nosh."

"Erm-?" Was all woman in the doorway said, a little confused by the Doctor's swift patter.

"Mind if we come in?" The Doctor asked, and as he did so, he stepped around the young woman and into the cottage.

Donna was getting used to the Doctor's rather unusual perception of basic human manners. Fixing a warm smile on her face, she followed the Doctor's lead.

"Oh, this is a charming cottage, " Donna told Mrs. Williams, "I'll bet you've done wonders with it, decorating and all that." She cooed smoothly, as she stepped over the threshold.

Strangely, the young woman didn't seem to be at all put out or surprised by the Doctor's behaviour. In fact, she almost seemed thrilled with it. The Doctor was already busy, snooping at the knick-knacks cluttering nearby table, and hadn't noticed Mrs. Williams hurriedly shutting the door-and locking it.

But, Donna did. She noted that the young woman had discretely placed the key behind a vase on another stand, before turning to the Doctor.

"Well, let's see you two get all comfy, before I go and put the kettle on, shall we?" Mrs. Williams said, ushering them into a small lounge, and seating them on the settee. The room was decorated with so many dark heavy furnishings and knick-knacks, that they made the space look even smaller than it seemed.

As she had walked into the room, Donna felt like the walls were closing in on her. Looking at the retreating back of Mrs. Williams, as she bustled towards the kitchen, Donna suddenly grew cold inside and gave an involuntary shudder.

"I'll have to tell the mister we have company." Donna heard Mrs. Willams say, "Won't he be delighted! We've not had many visitors lately, and I'm sure he'd enjoy your company as much as I."

As the woman left, Donna started when she felt a cool hand grasp her own.

"Are you alright?" The Doctor asked softly, his eyes showing his genuine concern for his friend.

"It's nothing really, I'm fine." Donna told him, forcing a smile.

Yet, the Doctor persisted.

"What is it?" He asked softly. When Donna hesitated, the Doctor smiled and said, "It's alright, Donna. Between friends, whatever it is, I'll believe you, you know that."

Donna smiled back, uncertainly.

"It's-it's nothing I can put my finger on, Doctor. Only..."

"Only what?" The Doctor whispered to her, his voice suddenly wise and knowing. "Something about this place makes you uneasy? Something you can't explain?"

Looking startled, Donna fleetingly wondered if the Doctor had somehow read her mind. She nodded.

"Yeah." Donna answered, at last. "I wish I knew why, but I don't. Sorry. Maybe it's the fact that she seemed to be expecting us, that was just a little creepy."

"Or," added the Doctor, "maybe it's the fact that she's locked us in?"

Donna looked at him, surprised.

"You saw that?" Donna whispered, "What, do you have eyes in the back of your head-no, wait, don't tell me if you do, I don't want to know."

"Well," The Doctor grinned, "better there, than the back of my B-"

"Buns and tea!" Mrs. Williams chortled, whisking back into the room with the tea tray. Her re-entry was so loud and abrupt, that she startled both Donna and the Doctor into sudden silence.

Placing the tray down on a nearby table, the woman poured the tea and passed out the buns. Pulling up a chair, she sat.

"Oooh, isn't this lovely?" Mrs. Williams said, as she took a sip of tea.

Donna tried the tea, it was amazingly good, and she said so.

"My own special blend, I'm so glad you like it." Frumpy Mrs. Williams said. Neither she nor Donna noticed that the Doctor gave the slightest pause, before sipping his tea. "Mr. Williams is out feeding the hens, but he'll be in directly to join me...er-I mean, us." Mrs. Williams informed them. "If I know him, he'll be positively famished."

Donna was about to ask the young woman a question, when suddenly her head began to feel woozy. She thought it might be the closeness of the room, until her eyes began to blur.

Concentrating-for her mind seemed to be wandering, Donna looked over at the Doctor. He was staring at his cup, when it fell to the floor, breaking on the flagstones. The sound of the shattering china seemed far away to her. She wanted to ask the Doctor what was wrong, but then her own cup seemed to slip from her hands. Vaguely, Donna heard a someone else enter the room.

"Is this them, then?" A strange man's voice asked-a young man, by the sound of it.

"Yes, but I don't think we need worry about them asking too many questions about us, do you, dear?" Mrs. Williams said to him.

"No, Missus, I don't. They certainly look healthy don't they?" Mr. Williams asked.

Donna could no longer see, slipping into a deep coma-like slumber, the last words she heard was the young woman asking her husband a question.

"Did you bring the straws?" Mrs. Willams inquired.

Donna's prone body lay slumped on the settee, and the young couple watched as the Doctor's eyes fluttered, then closed. Mr. and Mrs. Williams smiled at each other.

Mrs. Williams held out her hand, and her husband slipped what appeared to be a drinks straw into it. Smiling with eagerness, she leaned over the Doctor and rolled his head to one side, exposing his neck.

Mr. Williams, who was dressed in country attire, trying to blend in with the locals, casually looked out the window. He spied the distant figure of the local constable, pedaling up the dirt track leading to the cottage.

"Blast!" Mr. Williams hissed to his wife, "That's all we need."

"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Williams said, looking up at him quizzically.

"Constable James is paying us a visit, it seems, my dear." Mr. Williams muttered crossly, gesturing to the window.

Rather than seeming worried, she merely smirked and shrugged.

"Well, what's one more for supper?" Mrs. Williams said lightly, "You did say you were feeling rather peckish, dear."

Mr. Williams frowned at the distant figure labouring with his bicycle on the dirt track which lead past the farm.

"But, he's local dear, not some ne'er do well or a stranger, that no one will ever miss." Mr. Williams insisted.

"We're here on our honeymoon, dear." Mrs. Williams persuaded him smoothly, still hovering eagerly over the red velvet Victorian settee, where the Doctor lay unconscious, "That nice young couple down at the cottage, that's how everyone sees us. We're above suspicion. Trust me, they'll think some wandering gypsy or escaped convict got him."

Pausing, Mrs. Williams smiled sweetly at her husband.

"Don't worry, my love. The plain young woman said, "We can tell them that we saw some suspicious stranger lurking around our back garden, and who's to say we didn't? Now relax, we've nothing to fear."

So saying, she leaned over the Doctor, adjusted his neck angle again, and bore down on him with the tube she held in her hand.

The Doctor's right index finger came up, and pressed against the end of the straw. Opening his eyes, he looked up into her shocked face and smiled genially...but with an icy coldness behind his gaze.

"I think one bite from a plasmavore is enough for ten lifetimes, thanks." The Doctor told her.

Mr. Williams gave a startled gasp, and he and his wife backed away from the Doctor, suddenly alarmed.

The Doctor quickly stood, cold and irresolute. Sparing a quick glance at Donna, his features changed for just a second, a flicker of worry and guilt flittering briefly across his face, before the steely veil of a Time Lord's anger returned to his eyes.

Mrs. Williams quickly tried to re-gain her composure.

"We can still have our little tea-time snack, there's two of us, and only one of you." The frumpy woman snarled at him defensively.

The Doctor merely raised an eyebrow. But there was no smile in his eyes.

"Yes, I can count, thanks. Very good at numbers, me." The Doctor informed the pair of Plasmavores, "For instance, I know that It would take exactly three-hundred and seventy-eight milligrams of powdered gloschstock weed, to put me into even a light snooze. And, if my taste buds were right...and they always are, because, well, I'm...me. Anyway," he lurched on, "there were only twenty-four milligrams in that tea, which wouldn't even cause me to crack a yawn, I'm afraid...mind you, I don't half mind the taste. I used to put it in my tea all the time, back home on Galifrey...better than sugar, that. However," He ceased his levity as anger tightened his features once more, "my friend Donna is susceptible to its effects. And that, makes me very, very angry. A whole lorry load of angry. And trust me, don't want a ticked off Time Lord on your hands."

The young man gasped, horror-stricken.

"A Time Lord!" Mr. Willams whispered hoarsely. "Not-not the Doctor, not the Oncoming Storm?"

The couple exchanged fearful glances. The Doctor merely nodded.

"Yes," The Doctor told them, "I'm the Doctor, and I'm giving you one warning, it's all your going to get. You've already taken one life-that I know of. Get out, leave this planet and go somewhere else, preferably," he said as he eyed them with unconcealed disgust, "somewhere where I'll never see you again, and where you can't harm any more humans."

Mr. Williams nodded as if he suddenly understood. He looked at his wife.

"Oh, dear." The young man told her, "I believe we've harmed his pet, you know how attached some people can get to their pets."

The Doctor's eyes flashed indignantly.

"She not my 'pet,'" the Doctor growled, "she's my FRIEND. A brilliant friend, one of the best I've ever had, and..." he stopped, looking down at the floor and clenching his fists, his chest heaving with unspoken emotion.

Without warning, the female Plasmavore took advantage of the Doctor's temporary distraction. She grabbed a heavy vase from off of a nearby table, and swung it at the Doctor's head.

"We're not going anywhere, you are...to wherever it is Time Lord's go when they die!"

However, the young woman missed, because just then, Donna's leg shot out and tripped her. The vase dropped with a heavy thud to the floor. The Doctor looked at Donna and gave her an affectionate and relieved grin.

"Thanks for that." The Doctor said, before stepping back, away from the newlywed alien couple.

"Are you alright?" The Doctor asked with a concerned frown.

Donna nodded sleepily and yawned.

"Yeah. I'm fine." The Doctor's friend answered him. "They drugged us, didn't they?"

The Doctor nodded grimly and then his face grew somber. He faced the two aliens and withdrew two darts and his sonic screwdriver from his pocket. They looked at him defiantly.

"You can't stop us, you don't have any weapons. I know the legends. You never carry a gun." Mrs. Williams said arrogantly.

The Doctor was silent for a long moment.

"Oh yes, I do, Mrs. I have one of the best weapons there is." He said with a short, sharp laugh. "I have this." The Doctor pointed to his head, "I have my mind, and this..." he held up the sonic screwdriver. "...and these." He gestured to the darts.

Holding the darts in one hand, the end of the Doctor's screwdriver glowed blue and gave off a high pitched warbling noise, as he sonicked the dart's sharp points.

"Last chance." The Doctor told them. "What do you say, hmm? You'll never get another, not ever." Though he said it softly, for some reason, his tone held more menace in it, than if he had shouted threats.

"You can do nothing." Mrs. Williams snorted derisively, "A couple of pub darts won't even slow us down! You're a dead man, Doctor. Get him..."

With that command, the young man pulled a small laser pistol from his pocket, intent on killing the Doctor.

The Doctor heard Donna call out his name, but he didn't have time to acknowledge her. For, without hesitation, he flung the two darts, one after the other, right at the hearts of the two aliens.

First the young man, than the young woman, cried out, and then collapsed to the floor.

Feeling Wobbly, Donna stood. Reaching behind him, not taking his eyes off the two bodies on the floor, the Doctor held Donna against him, to steady her. His eyes suddenly appeared old and sad.

"Are they dead?" Donna asked.

"Yeah. They're gone. I tried to warn them, but there's no negotiating with sociopaths, I suppose. You can't reason with the unreasonable." The Doctor replied bitterly.

Sitting back down on the settee, Donna looked up at him inquiringly.

"Who-or rather what, were they?" Donna shook her head, trying to clear it. "And, what did you do to stop them?"

"They were Plasmavores-they're a humanoid off-shoot of the vampriac genus family." The Doctor told her. "They live on blood. That's why they needed so much salt, their bodies use it up rather quickly. Fortunately though, unlike vampires, Plasmavoores aren't immortal, although they do have a slightly longer life span than you humans. They also have a higher Resistance to death than a normal human would. A regular pub dart through the heart, wouldn't have been more to them, than a flea bite to a dog. But, they have one flaw."

Donna looked at the bodies curiously.

"What's that, Doctor?" The Doctor's friend asked him.

The Doctor held up his sonic screwdriver.

"To a human, magnetic fields are relatively harmless-even to a Plasmavore, the are-usually, harmless. " The Doctor informed her. "But, inside some of their internal organs-particularly their hearts, Plasmavores have a particularly rare mineral, a mineral much like one here on earth that you are probably quite familiar with." He paused for effect and Donna looked at him askance.

"So, come on, out with the rest of it, what's so special about their hearts?" Donna chided him.

"They have trace amounts of a mineral which has much the same properties of gold." The Doctor said. Donna looked at him disbelievingly.

"Get out!" Donna exclaimed. "You're saying that these..things, these plasma wots-its, actually have hearts of gold? No way!"

"Not actual gold Donna," the Doctor smiled, "but very close to it. And, with this," he wiggled his sonic screwdriver, "I could change the electrostatic discharge in the metal of those darts, thereby raising the transient peak to erode that special mineral inside their bodies, which once it penetrates the chest, instantly weakens their heart muscle. Basically, I made their hearts more human. Dart to the heart would kill a human."

"And, so," Donna interjected. " the newlywed aliens are dead," she paused and asked, "doesn't that sort of make you some kind of cupid in reverse?" The Doctor only raised an eyebrow, frowned and sniffed.

Just then, there was a heavy knock upon the front door. Donna visibly jumped.

"Who's that?" Donna said, startled.

"That, I believe, would be the village constable." The Doctor sighed.

"That's not good, is it?" Donna guessed. "How're we going to explain being in here with two dead people with darts sticking out of their hearts?"

"Erm-yeah." The Doctor agreed, scratching his chin, "That would be a bit awkward wouldn't it? I mean, if there were a dart board in the room, we could always pretend to be blind, and say we were asked to play a little game of darts, and 'gosh officer, I was wondering why those two had suddenly gone so quiet.'"

"Noo-nice try," Donna chuckled, "but somehow I don't think even the most dull and unimaginative policeman plod would buy that."

"Yeah," The Doctor shrugged in agreement, "Most Plasmavores are rubbish at darts."

The Doctor and Donna were about to beat a hasty retreat through the kitchen door, when they heard the kitchen doorknob rattling.

"Hullo, Mrs. Williams, is everything alright?" A deep voice boomed out. "I hope you don't mind my coming through the kitchen door, but your front door was locked, and I was worried about ya'." The constable spied the pair and gave them a wary look "Who're you?"

The Doctor immediately put on his most friendly smile and vigorously shook the policemen's hand.

"Hello! I'm the Doctor and this is Donna. Mrs. Williams invited us to tea. Lovely day, isn't it?"

The constable looked outside. It was overcast. Gray woolly banks of clouds hovered over the mountains, and it starting to drizzle rain, with the promise of a heavier downpour later.

"Aye, if you're a a duck, I suppose." He rumbled wryly.

The policeman was a beefy fellow of middle years, his face florid from the bike ride.

"I'd not be minding a spot of tea, myself." he told the Doctor. "I'm a bit parched from riding out all the way from the village."

The Doctor looked at the policeman with some skepticism. The cottage was less than three miles from the village, hardly a marathon ride for anyone. But the standards for policemen were rather lax in that time period, and this one wasn't exactly young and fit. No doubt the constable's wife was a good cook, judging by size of the man's stomach.

"Right, yes, sorry." The Doctor said, hurriedly concocting an excuse to keep the policeman from discovering the bodies, "Did I forget to mention? Mrs. Williams and her husband just popped out for a bit of a ramble before teatime. We'd missed them, so we'd decided to just leave them a note and come back later." He started to usher the constable out the door with. "So, why don't I just jot down that you were here as well, and we can all come back tomorrow and have tea together, what da'ya say, ey?"

The constable eyed the Doctor suspiciously.

"Who did you say you two were?" The policeman asked, pulling a small leather-bound notebook and the stub of a pencil from one of his trouser pockets.

Donna came forward and put on a posh air.

"I'm Donna Noble, of the Chiswick Nobles, I'm sure you've heard of us. No? Well, anyway, like the Doctor here was saying, we've only come 'round for a spot of tea, on our way to..." She realized just then, that she had no idea where in England she was.

"...To the Lake District." The Doctor added, smiling.

"I see, Mr. and Mrs. Noble-" The policeman harrumphed.

"Oh, we're not married!" The two them said, simultaneously.

The policeman raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, so you're engaged, then?" The constable asked, smiling.

Again, the the Doctor and Donna started to shake their heads, then looked at each other, and shrugged.

"Yeah, sure, what the hell. I'm the one with the brains, he's just there to look pretty and scream a lot." Donna said, earning herself an indignant but good-natured jab in the ribs from the Doctor.

"Well, I'd like to take some information from you both, if you don't mind, that is." The policeman told them, moving around the Doctor with a speed surprising for his bulk. "We'll just have a seat in the other room here, and you can give me your details while we wait for Mr. and Mrs. Williams to return."

Donna and the Doctor both looked panicky, when, without further ado, the constable strode into the room where the two bodies were lying.

"Coming?" he called out to them. "I'll start a fire, and then we can all sit here and have a nice chat."

The Doctor and Donna gave each other puzzled looks-mainly because they'd left the bodies of the young aliens lying in front of the fire guard. Curious, they walked into the room-only to see that the two bodies had completely vanished!

"Whoops." The Doctor whispered to Donna, "Must have gotten the polarity wrong, somehow." He grimaced. "Bah-I'm telling you, Donna, you hit middle age, and it's all downhill from there."

The old caravan ground its way up the mountain road. Behind the wheel, the elderly Mr. Williams chatted amiably to his wife.

"Where to now, Mrs. Plock?" Mrs. Williams giggled, when she heard her husband say their new alias.

"Where do you do come up with these names for us, dear?" The old woman asked. "Plock? Sounds like the noise a fish would make, when it hits the water."

"But it's such a nice, innocent sounding name, isn't it, my sweet?" Mr. Willams-Plock told his wife.

Mrs. Williams was reading a map, which was spread out in her lap. She looked up affectionately at her husband.

"What about Loch Ness, dear?" Mrs. Williams-Plock asked. "I read where they are holding some sort of monster festival this weekend, we'd fit right in, there."

The elderly pair exchanged looks and burst out laughing. Their laughter was cut short when the caravan topped the tall rise they'd been climbing. For there, halfway down the steep hill, smack in the middle of the tarmac, was an old blue wooden police box.

A few yards in front of the TARDIS, the Doctor was stood on the pavement, his face grim. Mr. Williams-Plock stopped the caravan.

"Uh-oh, missus. Reckon we're in trouble?" He asked his wife.

Mrs. Williams-Plock glared at the figure of the Doctor, standing there tall and resolute, the only movement that of the wind, unfurling the tails of his long coat, and ruffling his tousled hair. In his hand was gripped his sonic screwdriver. The old woman's eyes narrowed, the map falling from her lap, as she leaned forward, eagerly looking through the windscreen at the motionless figure of the Doctor.

"Run him down." The old woman snarled.

Her husband turned to her, not entirely certain he liked that idea.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asked his wife timidly. "I'd have to really step on the petrol going down the hill, and I don't know if the brakes will hold."

Mrs. Williams gave him a scornful look.

"Come on, shift. I'll do it, if you're afraid." the old woman ordered her husband.

A couple of minutes later, the old woman was seated behind the steering wheel, staring out the windscreen at the Doctor, who was standing as solidly as a boulder in the road. Mrs. Williams gunned the petrol a few times, then hit the caravan into gear, barreling down the hill, headed right for the Doctor.

The caravan picked up speed, driving down the middle of the road, getting nearer and nearer to the Time Lord-whom still hadn't stirred, not even an inch. With a determined look in his eye, The Doctor slowly raised the hand holding the sonic screwdriver, extending his arm, until it was straight out in front of his body...and pointing at the speeding caravan.

Giving an almost inaudible sigh, the Doctor waited until the last possible second. He could see the faces of the two Plasmavores through the windscreen. Mrs. Williams-Plock's face seemed almost jubilant, while her husband appeared to be frozen in terror.

When there could be no more doubt that the female plasmavore wasn't going to be deterred from her purpose, the Doctor's finger pressed down on the sonic.

As the screwdriver's blue tip lit up and the instrument let out a high pitched buzz, the caravan's engine suddenly made a funny noise. The wheels locked and Mrs. Williams lost control. In seconds, the caravan drove off the cliff, and into an old quarry far below.

Unseen by anyone, the Doctor closed his eyes, as the screams of the two Plasmavores faded into nothing. When it hit the floor, the propane and petrol in the caravan exploded, ending the lives of the alien couple, once and for all.

The Doctor slowly lowered his arm. He was so lost in thought, that he never heard the TARDIS door open, and only gradually came to realize that Donna was standing there alongside him, not saying a word, just holding his hand. After a moment, she spoke.

"I thought you told them no second chances." Donna said gently. The Doctor merely gave a slight shrug, so, squeezing his hand, she nodded, "I would have given them another chance. I'm glad you tried. Sometimes, Doctor, trying is all you can do. People who try are the heroes. It's those who can't be bothered to care, that are the zeros of this world. You'll never be that, not ever. You always try, even when you're afraid you'll fail."

The Doctor looked at Donna, then smiled his thanks.

"Come on, then." The Doctor said, still smiling, taking Donna's hand. Donna gave him a surprised look.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Pocketing the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor walked back to the TARDIS with Donna in tow.

"I hear there's going to be a monster festival at Loch Ness, thought we'd check it out, though I don't think they'll catch a glimpse of the Skarasen, this time of year." The Doctor informed her.

Donna looked at him for a moment, wondering if he was kidding, decided she didn't care.

"What a minute, hang on. 'Skarasen?" Donna asked him doing a double-take. "You mean there's a real, Loch Ness Monster?"

"What? didn't I tell you about that?" The Doctor shrugged casually, as he shut the TARDIS doors behind him.