Hello Dear Reader
A little author's note if you will indulge me please. this is a story that was inspired by another story of mine. I wrote a story entitled "What Is and What Should Never Be" for the SciFiBigBang. Well, nestled snugly within that story was a smaller side story (ooo alliteration, Poe would be so proud of me right now) I could not let go. I swore i would not write any more fanfiction, at lest not for a while. But the plot bunny was waiting for me everytime i left the house,
You do not have to read that story too understand this one, but if you are a fan of Fringe as well as Doctor Who, you might find it interesting.
Anyway, thanks for giving my little tale a view, i will try to keep the updates as regular as i can, i am still working on another fic that i need to finish... sigh i need like Plot Bunnies Anonymous or something.
He had never had the chance to even realize how cold Norway really was. The first time he was here, he had been nothing more than a hologram, a shade. He had said goodbye to the woman now in his arms.
Good bye
The ancient engines ground behind him, it was enough to mar the infinite beauty of the moment. He held the blond in his arms, tight, tighter. There was a singularity in the feeling of the cold wind whipping around him, the sound of the TARDIS leaving, and the softness of her lips as he poured so much hope into the gentle pressure of his lips against hers.
She turned her head as the sound began to fade; he knew she wanted to see, to watch the Doctor leave for once and for all. This time held such finality; an end.
She watched the spot where the blue box twisted into memory. He reached for her fragile hand as they bid the silent farewell to something neither one of them wanted to lose.
"Well, best to be getting on then." Jackie signaled her intentions with a strong sturdy stride toward the waiting vehicle. He could only assume that someone else had had the forethought to arrange for transport in advance, mostly since Jackie could barely program a DV-R, let alone a complex return trip. Though, the man in the blue suit had to admit to himself the irony of his following her lead.
Hand in hand the two followed across the beach, neither looking at the other, both eyeing the empty plot left by the TARDIS a rectangular imprint in the sand they seemed to move away from in a symbolic measure of finality.
By the time they returned to London, he was sure things were not going to be as simple as a kiss on a beach. He watched out the window as the strange world passed him by, trying to muffle the sensation of the emptiness in his mind. He had grown accustomed to the silence of like minds, but the TARDIS had been there to soothe him all those time the silence got to him.
He did not even have her now; just an endless silence that he was certain would drive him to being sectioned inside of a month.
She smiled at him, that fragile tentative smile. In her eyes he saw reflected his own loss and abandonment. And in that instance, looking into her eyes he realized he could no more have a relationship with her than he could with a sister. It was in that moment he realized that they were more like siblings driven into state custody.
"She placed a warm hand upon his and patted. "This is good" and he wanted to believe. He really did. But he knew that she was reassuring herself, deadening her own pain by projecting comfort onto him.
He'd had five days of acclamation before it really started.
They were given separate rooms, not out of any provincial expectations from overprotective parents. In fact, he was given his own room with a nod and a soft pat on the shoulder from Jackie. Rose stood nearby eyeing the living situation with a nervousness that seemed feral.
The first night he didn't sleep, didn't even lie on the too comfortable bed. He sat on the edge of the ruffled beast and stared at the wall in front of him. He was assaulted by feelings and emotions he had never before felt. A stomach tat needed to be filled; hands that twitched for something to do; a bladder that knocked for an answer.
And yet, still he sat.
By the time the sun began its slow creep over the well manicured grounds, he had not moved, not even when his bladder had answered the call for him.
He was completely and totally lost.
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He could not help but hear the conversation between mother and daughter, how could he miss it? The two sat in the parlor drinking tea and discussing his life as if he was a child.
"He is nearly helpless," Rose complained throwing her blond hair back as if in emphasis.
"He's not helpless Rose,' she insisted shaking her head at her daughter. "He has lost everything."
"He's got me," Rose fired back, the man could hear the possessiveness in her voice and it scared him.
Again Jackie shook her head at her daughter. "You've been to all these places Rose, but you are still so young." She nudged closer to the side of the couch Rose lounged upon. "What did you think it would be like? Him coming here, he's a fish outta the bowl that one.'
"Rose turned on her mother. "I thought I would not be back here. I thought I would be with the Doctor, I mean the real one, not some defective full grown infant who doesn't even know when his bladder is full." She huffed her indignation, and for a second, he expected her to throw something across the room.
Jackie fixed a glare on her daughter; the man in the shadows knew that look; had been on both sides of it enough times in his (other) life to know Jackie was not impressed with her daughter. "You say you love him-"
"I do love him Mum, the real him."
"Rose," she spoke softer, kinder than he had ever remembered her speaking "Life doesn't always go the way you plan it." She grabbed for her daughter's hand when the younger woman attempted to run off. "It's not easy for you, but its murder for him."
The man in the blue suit left the rest of the conversation; he knew he did not need to finish eavesdropping to get the drift of it.
What Rose wanted, he would never be.
He decided he would make damn sure of that.
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It was Pete who inspired his career choice in a left handed sort of way.
The fifth night at the dinner table, the man in the blue suit was asked if he had thought of anything about his new life.
"How can I not?" he had answered somewhere between the mashed potatoes and the spinach. "All I can do is think about this new life of mine. "
The silence at the table was both uncomfortable and thick. Rose looked down at her plate, not wanting to meet his eyes. Jackie, with all good intentions, graced him with a look of absolute pity. It was far worse than anything Rose had said the other day. He hated pity. Pity was for those who were completely helpless, could not do for themselves. Pity was for crippled children or blind old men forced to beg on the street.
The man in the blue suit twisted his fork into the tablecloth as he spoke. "Stop looking at me like that." He spoke calmly but the tone was unmistakable. Jackie turned her head away from the man in the blue suit, picked up the toddler next to her and left the room with Rose at her heels.
Peter continued to eat voraciously as if nothing had transpired. Following his lead, the man in te blue suit unwound his fork and attacked the roast chicken.
"You know," Pete commented between large bites, stopping long enough to refill his plate or pass the man another bowl for seconds. "The way I see it you got a golden opportunity here. "
The man did not look up from his plate, but he listened.
"I mean, you're smart, still young, and, thanks to me, you can pretty much write your own ticket for what you want to do here. " Pete continued to eat, speaking around his fork with enough nonchalance to make the younger man listen.
The man in the blue suit continued to eat, and listen and wish he were back in the little blue box.
"I mean, you gotta make a plan Doc-" Pete stopped talking, looked over at the man across from him as he made mashed potato sculptures.
The man was in all actually making a scale model of the mountains of Frelix 12, replete with the green lakes nestled within the range. He flinched at Pete's use of that name, knowing he was and not was that person.
But he realized what he wanted, and he realized Pete was right, he needed a plan and he needed a life of his own. But first, he needed a name.
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It was with mutual agreement that he find his own place, close to work, close to where he could spread his wings.
It didn't matter, once Rose figured out he did not have a TARDIS hidden in any of his transdeimensional pockets, it was pretty much the end of it. He could not deny that he missed her, missed her laughter, but it was his time as someone else who had keened for her.
The fact that he was having a hard time delineating himself as a person separate from those that actually created him was no longer an issue. Once he took Pete Tyler's advice and
Jamie Noble was a new man, with newly forged credentials. But most importantly, Jamie Noble had a plan.