Chapter One: Brooklyn Bridge is Falling Down, Falling Down, Falling Down...
Doctor Who is Property of the BBC, I Own None of It.
"The Raesio Moon Cluster, in the 45th Century!" The man, who was actually an alien, known as the Doctor declared with a flourish of his hands and a pull, twist and zig of handles, levers and zags (in that exact order) on the TARDIS's central console, darting around the thing like a child who had just received a new drum to beat on. "4455 to be exact, almost the exact middle of the century and 45 years of the middle of the millennium." He continued on, while still pulling and prodding at numerous whoseits and whatsits scattered around the control console of his beautiful Type-40.
"Humanity has spread out right across the universe, but the Raesio Moon Cluster is where you want to be if you want to see anything important at this moment of history, the unofficial center of the Universe, even if Calicousic 5 won't admit it." The Doctor finished his speech as the TARDIS ground to a halt, landing.
"Now, any questions before we leave?" He asked, spinning around towards his fantastic blue doors only to let out a sudden 'Oh' of realization. "That's right, alone again." He sighed, slumping against the central console with a sigh. "I always forget, keep expecting someone to be there... don't know why, been a year..." He mumbled, tugging at the edges of his brown duster with a sigh.
It had been almost a year since he had let River shoot his Tessalecta Double on the Shores of Lake Silencio, a year since the universe declared the Doctor dead.
At least, relatively speaking. That had happened a long time ago by his current calender, having a Time Machine did that.
Hand brushing against the TARDIS's console one last time, he strode towards the doors of his trusty Type-40 TARDIS and smiled a small, sad smile. "For the best, yeah? Gotta keep a low profile, at least until these so called Fields of Trenzalore that Kovarian talked about." He chuckled. "Low key, right girl? Quick visit, stop by the Museum of Presidential Oddities and exit via the gift shop." He nodded, prying the doors open and striding out into the light.
-/-
When the call had come in that several key load bearing struts on the Brooklyn bridge had collapsed, she had assumed it was nothing more than a hoax, after all you would need some heavy duty explosives to knock the monumental old stonework bridge down and, with a view of the bridge, no matter how distant it was, Detective Sgt. Alicia Campbell could say with absolute certainty that no such thing had happened.
However, when the frantic radio report from a passing Traffic Cop had come in, she took it far more seriously.
Grabbing a Kevlar vest and holstering her .45 Browning, she was out the door before the Captain could even yell go.
It took her five minutes to get over to the bridge with her lights flashing in the early afternoon sun, a record really considering this was New York.
Almost diving out of her car as she pulled up to the south side on ramp, she waded through the panicked crowd, which was really no surprise considering the sheer cracking sounds coming from the old bridge along with the shaking of the brickwork, she crept further up the slowly falling bridge, eyes widening as she spotted a man dressed in a light brown trench coat with floppy brown hair standing stock still amidst the chaos.
"Sir! You need to move now!" Alice cried out, her voice startling the man out of his apparent reverie, his eyes focusing on her as he strode briskly over to her with practiced strides, stopping right in front of her, almost nose to nose. "Hello Officer, I'm the Doctor." He said as a way of introduction, smiling widely before he continued. "And I'm sorry to say that I think, I broke your bridge."
-/-
The Doctor fidgeted in the car he had been pulled into as what remained of the Brooklyn Bridge, or at least what looked like the Brooklyn Bridge, collapsed into the Hudson River, or at least what looked like the Hudson River, in a spectacular shattering of steel and brick, the impact against the water, or at least the stuff that looked like water, was kind of impressive but it paled somewhat in comparison to the deceit and the manipulation that he had fallen into this time.
This had not been what he had in mind when he said low key, really, he had to stop traveling on Tuesdays, the worst things always happened on Tuesdays.
Okay, he had to admit to himself that it wasn't really a good argument against traveling on Tuesdays, he did so love getting mixed up in mysteries of intrigue and suspense and then saving people.
No, Tuesdays, if he were honest with himself were the best kind of days.
But even the best days had their black spots.
"Are the handcuffs really necessary?" He asked and in no way whined to the woman sat beside him. Mid 20's, long brown hair tied up into a braid and dressed up in a 21st Century SWAT uniform, the woman glared at him with cold blue eyes.
"You are under arrest on suspicion of disrupting the peace, public vandalism, acts of terrorism and sheer stupidity. I find that yes, the handcuffs are necessary." She drawled, looking at him like he were somekind of idiot. Honestly, him? An idiot? Maybe when Carzarnigh Space Volicks flew.
"Me, Terrorism? Please, hate violence, hate doing anything to spread it. Why the only thing I'd be guilty of terrorizing are the monsters under your bed and, let's be honest Officer." He smiled, hair flopping about as he smiled his wide, silly grin. "The monsters kind of had it coming."
"Did I mention your right to remain silent?" She drawled, looking at him with an equally amused and annoyed glance. "Because you have it and I would appreciate it if you exercised it."
"Sorry Officer, but I just like talking far too much." The woman groaned, hand twitching towards her sidearm (Guns, he did so hate the things) and, although he smiled at her, on the inside his mind was running a mile a nanosecond.
After all, what was 21st century New York City doing lodged squarely in the middle of the 45th century on a moon cluster so many light years away from Earth?
Another one started... Go fuck yourself my Muse.
As usual I always love to hear what you think, so review, review, review.
Jordan Out.