A cylinder spaceship rolled silently through space, and in its hull the turquoise outline of a box faltered in and out of reality, groaning from the effort of returning to a solid existence. The sounds of machinery ended, the double-doors sprang open, and Mickey Smith stumbled out its doors with a huge, goofy grin on his face.
"It's a spaceship! Brilliant, I got a spaceship on my first go!"
The Doctor and Rose followed him out, eyes wandering the dim room. The space was enormous, and definitely part of some interplanetary vessel. The walls stretching up fifty meters were a metallic blue, and striped by thick clusters of tangled wire. They were standing beside a platform riddled with levers and wires, but the floor beneath was scattered with odd bits and pieces of equipment.
Rose frowned and peered over the Doctor's shoulder. "It looks kind of abandoned…" The tall, thin man was squinting at readings from the platform's scanner. "Anyone on board?"
"Nah, nothing here—well, nothing dangerous. Well, not that dangerous." He hesitated, his gaze flickering towards Rose. "You know what, I'll just have a quick scan… in case there's anything dangerous."
"So, what's the date? How far have we gone?" she asked.
Just for Mickey, they had decided on a randomized destination. This special air of mystery was one that Rose and the Doctor favored.
"About three thousand years into your future, give or take." The Doctor flicked a switch on a console. There was a faint hum as the ceiling slid away to reveal an indigo sky sprinkled with stars. "Fifty first century. Diagmar Cluster… you're a long way from home, Mickey. Two and a half galaxies!"
Mickey pressed his face to a porthole across the room and gawked. Rose had used to do that, when she'd first left the Earth behind.
The adrenaline, rushing pulse, and expecting the unexpected all rushed back from distant memory, and a hint of a smile curved her lips. So this was why the Doctor had travelled with so many Earth-bound humans.
Though a conversation with her old friend could hardly be managed without them both betraying shared discomfort, Rose pushed that aside.
"Mickey Smith, meet the universe," she murmured.
"It's so realistic!" he gushed.
The Doctor was rummaging through that mess of wires and bolts she'd noticed. He nudged a pile with the toe of his sneaker, grimacing.
"Dear me, had some cowboys in here. Got a ton of repair work going on." His eyes lit on another set of dials. "Now that's odd, look at that. All the warp engines are going… full capacity! There's enough power running through this ship to punch a hole in the universe… and we're not moving, so where's all that power going?"
"Where'd all the crew go?" Rose asked, her waved hair whipping to the side as she glanced towards the nearest corridor. They should have been discovered by now.
"Good question," the Doctor muttered. "No life readings on board." He sniffed. "Can you smell that?"
"Yeah, someone's cooking."
"Sunday roast, definitely," Mickey joked.
The Doctor poked something else on the console, and a wall shifted behind them. The paneled wall that appeared was painted cream, and stood in bizarre contrast to the steaming pumps at their back. Built into its center was a large, ornate fireplace with a clock on the mantel.
"Well, there's something you don't see in your average spaceship," the Doctor said, interest creeping into his voice. He approached the fireplace and whipped out the sonic screwdriver. "Eighteenth century… French… Nice mantle. Not a hologram. It's not even a reproduction! This actually is an eighteenth century French fireplace."
"There's another room through there," Rose murmured, crouching.
"But that's the outer hull of the ship," Mickey insisted.
The Doctor noticed Rose kneeling before the dancing flames that added an auburn glow to her natural light. Unexpectedly, her face broke into a wide smile. "Oh, hello there," she said softly to the fire.
The Doctor crouched down to investigate, and couldn't help smiling too. A little girl's skeptical face looked back at them.
"Mademoiselle, what are you doing in my fireplace?"
"Oh, we're just doing a routine… fire check," the Doctor put in helpfully, and Rose shot him an amused glare.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" Rose asked.
"Reinette," the girl answered with a hesitant smile. Reinette's long blonde hair was draped over an old-fashioned nightgown, and the Doctor peered over her shoulder.
"Reinette! That's a lovely name," said the Doctor approvingly. "Can you tell me where you are at the moment, Reinette?"
"In my bedroom."
"And where's your bedroom? Where do you live, Reinette?"
"Paris, of course." She gave an incredulous laugh that meant he was being humored.
"Paris, right! And can you tell me what year it is?"
"Of course I can! Seventeen hundred and twenty seven."
"Right, lovely. One of my favourites!" He hesitated. "August is rubbish though… stay indoors. Okay, that's all for now, thanks for your help! Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire. Night-night."
"Goodnight, Monsieur."
The Doctor beamed at Reinette one last time before straightening to address the gang. Mickey was scowling.
"You said this was the fifty-first century!" he accused.
The Doctor shrugged. "I also said this ship was generating enough power to punch a hole in the universe. I think we just found the hole." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink."
"What's that?"
"No idea. Just made it up. Didn't want to say 'magic door'."
Mickey rolled his eyes towards Rose meaningfully. He never had thought much of the Doctor's supposed abilities.
"And on the other side of this 'magic door', is France in 1727?" Rose asked the Doctor, grinning expectantly.
"Well, she was speaking French. Right period French, too."
By now the Doctor's attentions were being spent on the fireplace, and his screwdriver's faint blue glow was tracing the intricate woodwork.
"She was speaking English, I heard her," Mickey insisted.
Rose shrugged. "That's the Tardis. Translates for you."
"Gotcha!" the Doctor roared with satisfaction as he located the hyper-link. "Here we go."
Rose rushed to his side. "Hang on, I'll come with you!"
"What, and leave Mister Mickey-Micks all alone on his first trip? Really, Rose," he scolded unconvincingly.
Mickey was protesting that he didn't need a sitter, but it was background buzz in Rose's head as her eyes followed the Doctor. Somehow he had spoken all of that without meeting her gaze once.
He had slipped a few hours ago. Had broken his own unspoken rule and told her she was different. That she wouldn't be left behind like the others. But he had made that promise in agony... as though she were falling to dust before his eyes.
"I don't age... I regenerate. But humans decay. You wither and you die. Imagine watching that happen to someone you-"
Was this why she sometimes found him staring into empty corners with hell in his eyes?
"You can spend the rest of your life with me, but I can't spend the rest of mine with you. I have to live on. Alone. That's the curse of the Time Lords."
He kicked something in the woodwork and the entire section of wall began to rotate.
"Doctor, wait!" she shouted, but the door was already grinding to a halt with the Doctor on the opposite side.