A/N: Happy late (late late late) birthday, Sean! I told you I'd get it written eventually.
To all my other readers: I realize that the combination of characters involved doesn't exactly coincide with the canonical timeline, but I figure that when a Time Lord is involved there's not much point dithering over being chronological.
Cowboys and Aliens
Rose jerks the reins to keep her maladjusted mount from gnawing on her foot and wonders—not for the first time—if there is some universal law that dictates that no matter where he goes, the Doctor will find the strangest, most impossible form of trouble. At least there aren't any (other) aliens involved. So far. That she knows of.
"I wasn't cheating," he exclaims, indignant. "It's just a simple matter of calculating probability and reading body language. Easy, really, if you pay attention to—"
"The hell it wasn't! Me and the boys reckon winning nine games outta nine makes you a downright dirty swindler." The man who says it would be greasy even if the desert heat wasn't covering him in a sweaty sheen. Rose tries not to judge people by appearances, though—she prefers to judge people by the fact that they're pointing a locked and loaded revolver at one of the Doctor's hearts. She's not entirely certain what would happen if just one of the pair was shot, but she figures that it can't be healthy.
"That's not very nice," the alien says, his fluttering brown coat making him fit in perfectly. "I'll have you know I cleaned this suit just yesterday. Well, the day before yesterday. Well, that's Montraxian days, so I suppose really just yesterday after all. Lovely planet, Montraxus, much more humid than Texas of course but—"
He is interrupted by a gun being shot into the air. Rose jumps, and the horse startles, and it takes her a good several minutes to bring it under control again. By this point, she is sufficiently worried that with all the horse's commotion she's been spotted that she almost doesn't notice that the Doctor has his sonic screwdriver out and is pointing it at the man pointing the gun at him.
It's a standoff. Clearly the man and his friends don't know what to make of the sonic screwdriver—whether it's some kind of newfangled gun or just a hoax. Rose doesn't dare intervene for fear that someone might pull the trigger out of surprise.
When the Doctor had said the words 'wild west', Rose had been all in favor of it. She remembered thinking that it was sure to be exciting—the fact that exciting for them usually involved mortal peril and close shaves clearly slipping her mind. At first her expectations had been met: the bustling saloon, the cowboys and prospectors and saloon girls, the poker game in the corner.
After two hours of being here, though—a good hour and a half longer than she'd have put money on the Doctor having the capacity to sit still, let alone play poker—the novelty had worn off. And once her Time Lord friend stopped making up rules ("Honestly, Rose, the mQilfari's system makes far more sense. You'd think they'd appreciate me making it simpler for them."), she had quickly lost interest in the game, too. Her knowledge of cards was more or less limited to go-fish.
Being bored was what kept her out of this mess, funnily enough. In search of something to occupy her mind other than why on earth the Doctor had suddenly taken up gambling, she'd ambled over the bar and struck up a conversation with the bartender. Next thing she knew, someone had upset the card table and there were four irate men dragging the Doctor out to the street for retribution. Common sense said that there was no use in her getting caught up in the middle of a gunfight, so she'd found a horse for a quick getaway and convinced it to let her in the saddle—and now here she is.
"Now gentlemen, is this really necessary?"
The gamblers don't buy into his attempts to look harmless. "Surely is. We're gonna make sure you get yours."
She can see him scrambling to think of a way to squirm out of this. "Ah. But you see, I already have everything that's mine, so if you don't mind I'll just—"
It happens so fast that it's nearly impossible to tell the order of events. The man leading the belligerents pulls the trigger, but the telltale whine of the sonic screwdriver drowns out the click and probably has something to do with the fact that the pistol never actually fires. Rose doesn't hesitate. She spurs the ornery horse forward as best as she knows how, shouting the Doctor's name as she does so.
He spins, and turns that mischievous, thrilled-with-life grin on her at full power. She means to slow the horse down before she reaches him, but it doesn't feel like cooperating. As a result, when the Doctor finally manages to get situated on its back, he's somehow managed to seat himself facing Rose rather than forward. She tries not to get distracted by his proximity or his unique smell of bananas and something that's purely unearthly. This task is not as difficult as it might otherwise be, with several men chasing after them with pistols and the amount of bouncing involved in going this fast. She thanks whatever powers are listening that they're too drunk to have good aim, and urges the horse to go faster.
"Would you move your ever-loving arm out of my face?" she demands, craning her head to see around various bits of Time Lord. "I can't see where I'm steering this thing!"
"Oh, come on, Rose, you act like you've never been on a horse before."
"Because I haven't!"
He leaves off whatever he's doing with the sonic screwdriver over her shoulder and sits back, staring at her quizzically. "Well then what ever are you riding one for? And doesn't this one smell a little funny to you?"
"Sorry I wasn't paying attention to how it smells, I was trying to save your sorry behind," she says, punctuating the statement with a shriek as their steed decides that jumping over a dilapidated fence is preferable to going around it. She's more or less given up on directing it, just as long as it gets them away from town as quickly as possible.
"And a valiant effort too, if I may say so. Carry on, then."
Rose rolls her eyes, and relaxes a little as the horse's gait slows down and smoothes out. It would seem that the poker players' animosity toward the Doctor isn't sufficient motivation to get on their own mounts and follow. That's a bit of luck that they don't always get, so Rose is grinning when they come to a halt; as far as adventures go, this one has been comparatively tame.
The Doctor is dismounting entirely ungracefully, and she wonders aloud where he gets off criticizing her horsemanship. In response to this he glowers and starts rambling about his long list of horseback riding credentials, which she's sure she'd find impressive if she knew the first thing about the sport.
She gives him a toothy smirk as she cuts in. "Yeah, but which of us was the one riding backwards?"
He is characteristically indignant and changes the subject. "In any case, nothing like a gunfight to get your blood pumping, eh? In fact—"
"Doctor," she interrupts, "do you get the feeling that we're forgetting something?"
"Don't be silly, of course we're not forgetting—"
They lock eyes, and as one they come to the same realization: "Jack!"
It isn't long before they're skulking in the shadows between buildings, trying to avoid notice and hoping that they've correctly guessed their errant friend's location. The only problem is that the building that houses the jail and sheriff's headquarters is directly across the way from the saloon, and neither of them are too keen on getting spotted by the men from before.
"Right. So I'll just go in there, get Jack, and then we can go, yeah?"
"What, and leave me here to lurk? I hardly think that's fair, you going in and me lurking. Not too fond of lurking, myself. Sneaking, maybe, or even prowling on occasion, but never lurking."
Rose puts her hands on her hips and cocks her head challengingly. "Alright, what do you suggest, then? They know what you look like."
"You here for your charming friend?"
The sudden voice behind them has them whirling, and then relaxing as a glint of metal on a lapel demarks the man as the sheriff himself. He's just as ruggedly handsome as a cowboy should be, strong stubbly features and leanly muscled. She can't help but think that he'd be irresistible…if you went for that sort of thing.
"Well, charming's not quite the word—"
"Yes," Rose interrupts, kicking the Doctor's shin. "We're here for Jack."
Naturally they're taken aback when the sheriff frowns and grumbles, "That's what I was afraid of." Then he puts on a face that's all business and procures a pair of pistols from beneath his coat. "You cooperate and come with me nice and easy-like, and I won't have to use these."
Of course they put their hands up slowly, but that's not a handicap for the Doctor's mouth. "If I could just reach in my coat, I've got some papers that I'm sure will explain anything Captain Jack's been—"
"You think I'm gonna fall for that one?" The sheriff is clearly unimpressed. "Sure and if it's really papers you pull out, it won't be anything the likes of you couldn't forge."
"Oi, what do you mean 'the likes of me'?" he protests, but his affronted expression fades into consideration. "Although come to think of it, there really isn't much I couldn't forge with a little good old fashioned elbow grease, if I had a mind to…"
"Doctor! Not helping!"
He keeps trying to convince the sheriff that they really don't need to be in custody all the way into the building they'd been eying earlier. The sheriff doesn't buy any of it, but Rose doesn't get worried until they take the Doctor's coat and all of his personal effects—including his sonic screwdriver. They're shoved into a cell right next to the one where Captain Jack Harkness sits contemplating a wall.
"And the same's gonna happen to the rest of your thugs that show their faces in these parts," the sheriff spits in parting, striding out to leave them under the watch of a deputy.
Rose and the Doctor turn to look through the bars at their third.
The Doctor folds his arms. "What did you do, Jack?"
"Some people just aren't accepting of alternative lifestyles."
"Jack…"
Where the Doctor's stern face fails to produce the reason for their incarceration, Rose's memory of the sheriff succeeds. Though their situation isn't ideal, she can't help but grin as she accuses Jack.
"You tried to flirt with him, didn't you?"
To his credit, the self-proclaimed captain looks chagrined. "Turns out the wild west isn't all that wild after all."
"And thank you so much for establishing that for us, Jack. Now if I'm not mistaken, these bars are made of…"
As the Doctor starts muttering about the construction of the cell, Rose turns back to Jack. (She tries to pretend that her cellmate is not, in fact, licking things again.) "He really put you in jail for putting the moves on him?"
"Apparently he's under the impression that I'm part of a gang of bandits and I was trying to distract him while the rest pulled a heist. Not the worst thing I've ever been accused of, of course, but being in jail does kind of crimp my style."
"So when the Doctor and I came looking for you—"
"He thought you were my co-conspirators come to break me out."
"So how are we going to break out?"
"Thinking instead of gossiping would be a good start," the Doctor suggests pointedly. It would seem that he's not quite as savvy when there isn't any readily available technology to take advantage of, though Rose would be the last one to question his genius. They'll think of something; they always do.
"Got any bobby pins, Rose?"
She sends a mock glare in Jack's direction. "Very funny. Even if I did, that guard there would shoot your hand off as soon as you tried picking the lock."
"Now there's an idea," Jack says, grinning. "If I got shot—"
"Definitely not."
"Come on, it's not like it'll stick, and they'll be sure to take a dead body out of here."
"Don't you think that's a bit overkill for a situation like this?" Rose is on the Doctor's side on this one. She winces. "Pun not intended."
Jack sighs and concedes the point. So they all settle down for a good old-fashioned brainstorming session. Not being able to come up with a solution is frustrating; being locked in a jail in 19th century Texas is well enough, but Rose would rather not stay the night here and they really ought to be able to come up with something.
After some indeterminate amount of time, Jack stands up. "Alright, I can't concentrate with that awful smell."
Rose exchanges a look with the Doctor. "What smell?"
"I can't quite place it, but it reminds me of Spartic VIII."
"Of course!" The Doctor stands up, a grin splitting his face. Rose has learned that this expression means that he's come up with an idea, so she sits back and waits for his revelation to take shape. "That's why the horse smelled so strange—it wasn't a horse at all!" And he launches into a detailed explanation of the fact that the horse is a native of Spartic VIII, a species which is not only quite loyal but also incredibly strong. The part where he loses her is when he makes a distressing squawk/roar and tells her she has to imitate him.
"Why do I have to do it? Seems like you've got the demented parrot noises down to an art."
"Because you're the one that rode it. I don't count because I wasn't in the driver's seat, so it won't give two licks about me."
"Didn't seem like it gave two licks about me, either," Rose grumbles, but finally she consents. She feels foolish as she opens her mouth and attempts to emulate the bizarre noise.
"No, no, no. More guttural, really get your diaphragm into it, like this."
Jack is laughing at the both of them, and it's taking all of Rose's restraint not to retaliate. She's at the breaking point when the guard has finally had enough. He hasn't heard any of their planning, but he would have to be deaf not to have heard the screeching.
"I swear by my badge if you don't stop that ungodly noise you'll be in handcuffs and gags."
"I think being behind bars has pulled a few screws loose for them," Jack says, still fighting back laughter. He adds suavely, "But if you want to put me in handcuffs, deputy, don't let me stop you."
The funny thing is that the deputy actually considers it for a moment ("it" being what Jack is implying, not what he actually says), visibly hesitates. But then—"No sir, the sheriff told me you'd try to pull something like this. I'm not to listen to a word you say."
Jack continues in his efforts to pick up their guard, though, and the Doctor is giving her significant looks that mean she should take advantage of his distraction. She makes a face at him, but if making this ridiculous noise is their best chance of escape there's little else she can do. What's more, given their guard's irritability, this is probably going to be her last chance. So Rose opens her mouth—and bellows.
The deputy whips around immediately and strides over to stand in front of their cell. He fixes her with a most unpleasant glare.
"Look, girly, could be you're tryin' to be funny. Thing is, I ain't laughing. So I'd recommend you reconsider openin' your mouth again where I can hear you, else I'll make sure you regret it."
Rose nods mutely, staring at her folded hands with a suppressed smile until he turns again. Then she looks at the Doctor. He's grinning again, which means that she must have done something right. And sure enough, a few moments later the noise is echoed back from the outside. (It sounds significantly less ridiculous when she's not the one making it.)
The deputy must not realize this, because he veritably growls. He grabs the keys and his pistol and is looking quite threatening, ignoring all the insistences that this time it wasn't Rose or the Doctor that made the sound. Luckily before he can get the cell open, this fact is proved to him by the noise's repetition from close behind him.
Rose watches in disbelief as what she had thought was a horse headbutts the guard into the wall, promptly knocking him out (or at least she hopes he's only unconscious). Then her noble steed turns and looks at her with large brown eyes.
"Er… right. We've kind of been arrested and it would be great if you could help us get out. Please." Explaining their situation to a horse feels a little foolish, but it's not the strangest thing she's had to do over the course of her travels with the Doctor.
But the not-horse seems to understand her, because it grips the bars between its teeth and pulls—and as easy as that, the door is off its hinges.
Rose's jaw drops, but the Doctor leads the way through the now-open doorway, pausing to thank the creature from Spartic VIII. Shaking her head and grinning, she follows suit.
"Thanks," she tells the not-horse while the Doctor grabs his sonic screwdriver and sets to work breaking Jack out. "You've been so much help, I don't think we would've made it out of here without you. Don't tell the Doctor I said that, though."
It ducks its head in an equine nod and snorts with amusement, surprising her yet again. On impulse, she throws her arms around its neck for a brief hug, and then she's following Jack and the Doctor out of the jail. When she glances back to say goodbye to their rescuer, it is chewing contentedly on the bars of the cells.
Somehow they make it out of the town without further incident. When they make it back to the TARDIS, covered in sand and sweat, and the Doctor asks for suggestions for their next destination, she only has one stipulation:
"Somewhere with a spa."
She's so tired she doesn't even protest when Captain Jack suggests a lovely nudist resort he knows of. All she cares about is getting clean again and having a chance to relax. Besides, the Doctor will shoot down the idea. Or at least he'd better…