A/n: Hey, Squareorange! WHERE'S MAH MONEY :D

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The TARDIS was just starting to feel lonesome when its doors were thrown open and two figures peppered with white hurried inside. The second to enter, one Rose Tyler, spun on her heel and shut the ship's doors against the howling wind trying to blow past her. Beneath the wind, almost an undertone, could be heard the shouts of angry voices that were cut short when, at last, she'd managed to close the contraption. The young woman then turned back around and braced herself against the doors with a sigh.

Just a few steps in front of her, the Doctor brushed snow from his hair and both shoulders. He busied himself with looking at his soggy boots until Rose had managed to catch her breath. "Bit chilly out there," he commented absently once his companion was no longer gasping for air, head tipping forward to motion outside the doors.

"Yeah, jus' a bit," she replied flatly, nodding. The blonde girl straightened and started stripping off a wet red jumper that seemed hardly appropriate for the cold conditions she'd just arrived from.

"Well, you know nuclear winters," the Time Lord took a few strides to lean against the center of the TARDIS, expression still very neutral. He rocked a bit on his heels. "They've always had this nasty habit of sneaking up on people."

Rose ran her fingers through her hair to dislodge some of the ice and then shook it vigorously. She gave the Doctor the closest thing to a dirty look manageable as she flung her jacket unceremoniously onto one of the branch-like supports. His lips twitched.

"Oh, stop with the face," he said, and gave one of her red cheeks a soft push. Then he turned and looked up at the large glowing tube at the center of the TARDIS, purposely avoiding her gaze. "It wasn't that cold." Rose opened her mouth to protest, but the taller man continued. "Okay, so it was, but!" He motioned to the TARDIS, "I can make up for that, yeah?"

"You bett'ah," replied Rose bitterly. She crossed her arms, practically pouting now.

"I could take us somewhere warm," prompted the Doctor, giving his companion a sideways glance. His fingers twitched in anticipation, hovering over several switches.

Rose grinned at that, turning to the man. "You bett'ah," she repeated.

"Hot even," he continued. "Indecently hot, even."

"Just hot's fine."

The Doctor smiled full-out. "'Just hot' it is!" He punctuated the end of his sentence in the usual fashion; ripping back a large lever, thus awakening the motors of his space ship. The TARDIS began singing its usual song, the Doctor dancing to the familiarity, mouth working a mile a minute as he circled his machine, pressing buttons as he went.

"What'll it be, then? San Diego? Orlando? The Sierra? One of those nudie beaches in—no, never mind—I know! This lovely beach—just lovely—about, ooh, say, thirty-eight million light-years due south of the Sea of Tranquility. Water turns your skin purple for a week, but it's worth it—OH, wait, I know—I know," the Doctor ran completely around the system and began typing vigorously into the keyboard under the flat screen. Rose, horribly amused, came to stand behind him and watched as the screen changed with his strokes.

…sometimes she really wished she could read that stupid screen.

The TARDIS rocked a bit after the Doctor finished smashing down the last key. He had just enough time to wiggle his brown eyebrows at Ms. Tyler over his shoulder before the ship jolted back the other way and both had to brace themselves, him to the console and her to his shoulders. The engine whined loudly then settled to a stop, the shaking room with it.

"And here we are." The Doctor bounded away to sit on the floor and yanked off his boots. Once both feet were freed, he opened a cubby in the floor and reached inside to remove a pair of his usual sneakers. The storage space was closed after he'd knocked the boots unceremoniously down into it. He addressed Rose while tying his laces, saying, "I think you'll like this."

"Yeah, y'say that," she replied, "and then we end up gettin' chased by a'angry mob that wants t'chop apart'n burn th'TARDIS like fire wood."

"That was only once," he pointed out, hopping to his feet. Then he paused, brown eyes going distant. "…twice." The Doctor gave his head a shake. "A'right, three times, but who's counting? Really?" Striding for the door, the tall Time Lord pulled his arms from his trench coat and flung it over Rose's snow drenched jumper. He then yanked open one of the doors. Sand fell through the opening instantly and gathered on the floor.

"Ladies first," he said politely, and motioned for the only lady present to exit. Rose rolled her eyes at the formality but still smiled, walking past him into the dry heat outside.

The woman stepped out and promptly sank into the hot sand surrounding the TARDIS. It was very bright outside. Casually, she looked around, now having to squint, for whatever made their destination stand out for the Doctor. There had to be something that made this planet more interesting than a beach that changes your skin color. After all, she had the distinct feeling the new-new Doctor would find purple skin on her utterly hilarious.

But…all there was was sand. In fact, there didn't seem to be an end to it. Sand in every direction, turning white in the distance, just like the brilliant blue sky above.

…what in the world was so special about this? And what was this, the biggest sandbox in the universe?

She turned back to the TARDIS just as the Doctor was shutting its doors. "Where's th'beach?" she asked innocently, shielding her eyes. The Doctor removed a pair of pink-rimmed sunglasses from the inside of his suit jacket and handed them to her while he gave a look around.

"Oooh…" he sucked in a breath through his nose, "not here, apparently." He donned his own pair of sunglasses, the same ones he'd pretended to be drunk in who knows how long ago, and continued to look in all directions. "Blimey, that's a lot of sand. Don't care for sand much—tends to get stuck in too many—Hold on." He cut himself off after looking upwards. "Hold on—two suns?"

"Two suns?" repeated Rose in astonishment, neck craning back to see for herself.

"Two suns! Oh, wow, we are way off!" The Doctor pulled off his glasses and held a hand to his head. "We are way, way off. Where are we?"

Rose turned and pointed to the TARDIS, which had also sunk a good several inches down into the sand, or, rather, had been that way since landing, "wanna check th'computer?" The Doctor shook his head in reply.

"No, no, gimme a second."

He turned full circle, starting to mutter to himself. "Dodgy atmosphere, feels…odd. Five—no, seven moons? Nhhnn, hard to tell in day…" The Time Lord crouched and picked up a handful of the sand. He bounced the grains for a moment, watching intensely as they sifted through his fingers, then gave the handful a quick lick. The Doctor scrunched his face at the taste and emptied his hand. "Agh, quartz? That's a bit boring…"

"So…?" prompted Rose. "Obviously we're not on earth…"

"Obviously…" the Doctor began, running all his observations through his head a second time. He was quiet for just a moment longer, then, "Oh, I know where we are!" He grinned at Rose. "We're on the Sandworm planet—oh, I haven't been here in ages."

"Sandworm planet?" she repeated, forehead creasing as one eyebrow jutted up. "Is that its name?"

"What? No, 'course not," said the Doctor, shaking his head. "What kind of name would that be? I'll tell you what kind of name that'd be. A rubbish one. No, this planet has a brilliant name."

"Which is…?"

Again, the Doctor shook his head. "Can't remember. That's why I called it the Sandworm planet. It was a good one though. One for the books…So, I'll write it down when I remember it…" His voice dropped off as it often did when he started talking more to himself than Rose. The Time Lord returned to looking around leisurely.

"So…" Rose went and stood in the shade of the TARDIS, leaning against its blue painted wood, "why'd you call it that?"

"What? 'Sandworm planet'?" The Doctor's hands found their way to his pockets. "Oooh, because there're Sandworms here. Well, not just Sandworms; Sand-insects in general. They're the most intelligent species of the planet—and the smart ones? Are smart. Tiny little things, too." The Doctor illustrated by pulling out a hand and holding his forefinger and thumb about three inches apart. "And they're a bit uppity. A bit. Got little man complexes, but" he scrunched his nose, "can't exactly blame them."

"But, Sandworms," repeated Rose. "Wouldn' worms, I donno, dry out in sand?"

"No, no, these lot are completely different from earthworms," he replied. "They're like the ones in…ooooh…" the Doctor squinted a bit. "Beetlejuice?" He nodded to himself. "Beetlejuice."

Rose blinked. "There're Sandworms on Betelgeuse?"

"No, on Saturn."

"…What?"

The Doctor dismissed the point by waving his hand. "I'll make you watch it later."

Rose threw her own hands back, deciding it best to drop it for now. She was still confused, but if he would explain later, he'd explain later. "And are we going or staying?" she asked.

"Mmm, staying, I'd think," said the Doctor as he turned to face her and the ship. "Haven't dropped by in a while. Like to see how things are going. Besides, they've never seen a human before." His face brightened a bit. "Oh, and there's this huge kiwi looking things that are just the nicest kiwi things you'll ever meet. Just sweethearts, them."

"…Are you sure they've never met humans?" Rose asked, making the Doctor blink. And here he'd been expecting a string of questions involving fruit…

"Yeah, pretty sure," he said with a nod. "True, I've known to be wrong before, but…IIII'm pretty sure." He squinted at her. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason," replied Rose. "'Cept…" she pointed over the Doctor's shoulder. "I think that's a car."

The Doctor's usually wide eyes got just a hair wider. "No." He turned and squinted behind him at a growing silver speck heading their way. After a moment of shielding his eyes, he put his sunglasses back on. "No. Yes? Yes." He nodded to himself. "Definitely yes. That's acar." He frowned. "But that's not right." The Doctor turned to Rose, pointing behind him at the steadily approaching vehicle. "That's not right; that's very not right. What's a car doing on—well," his arm dropped just as his eyebrows pushed together and up. "Well, wait, that would explain the atmos…phere—But what are humans doing here?Of all places?! It's light-years upon light-years from Earth, not to mention this whole solar system is rubbish! And this planet is the worst, what with it nothing but sand. There's not even any water, I don't think."

"Well, they are comin' over here," replied Rose, still leaning against the Police Box. "We could always ask them."

The Doctor's face went from confusion to thoughtful in a heart beat. "Yeah. Yeah we could."

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"I still don't hear it, Needle Noggin," Wolfwood said as he accelerated over another dune. All four of them plus the preacher's cross between the front seats bounced on impact.

Vash leaned up between the driver and Millie, looking around the bogus crucifix and through the windshield at the iles of sand before them, frowning. "Yeah, well, that's cuz it stopped," replied the blonde. Wolfwood rolled his eyes in response, obviously not believing the outlaw. Vash ignored him and continued to scan the sand.

What was that sound? That wheezing, whirring…thing sound. It was like nothing he'd ever heard before. Or, perhaps, several things he'd heard all rolled into one, like a sick carbonator being scraped against a frying pan, or a gutted piano being attacked by a ring of house keys. And he knew he'd heard it—it was soft, but not that soft—but no one else would fess up to hearing it, too. In fact, the whole car had looked at him like he was crazy for pointing it out.

Well, crazier than usual.

…maybe he shouldn't have used the piano-house keys comparison after all.

But he knew he heard it!

Even if his hearing was well above that of a normal human's, Wolfwood should have heard it. That preacher was about as normal as a talking Thomas on any given day. And the insurances girls certainly weren't a dime-a-dozen, either! So why…

The small, childish part of him wanted to assume they were all keeping their mouths shut to spite him. It was probably 'pick on the Plant day' or something. Because there was no way they hadn't heard it.

Regardless, Vash was keeping his eyes peeled. Whatever made that noise—because something made that noise—could, quite possibly, be a serious threat. What you don't know can hurt you, if that wasn't the story of his life. You only get force-fed that truth a million plus times before you start heeding it. Mostly.

…Still.

"It was like a whirring."

"Didn't hear it."

"No 'vworp vworp'?"

"No what?"

Millie turned around in her seat and smiled at the irritated blonde. "That was such a funny noise, Mr. Vash. Why'd you make it?"

The Humanoid Typhoon threw his hands up in defeat. "Oh, never mind!" Pouting, he returned his butt to the back seat and crossed his arms in a huff.

"You're hearing things, Vash," short girl supplied from beside him. "It happens."

Though only Millie was privy to it, Wolfwood donned a smirk that could only mean his next words would undoubtedly be cruel. "He's probably just so unused to air passing through that frozen mop on his head—"

"Hey!"

"—the sound of it confused him."

Vash formed a fist and began shaking at the back of the cackling preacher's head. "Why I 'oughta—"

"Oh, wow!" Millie suddenly tilted forward in her seat and started pointing off east of the car. "What's that?"

"What's what?" asked Vash, demeanor instantaneously changing from offended to serious. The mood of the car changed with his, grins falling straight off faces as each realized they might be driving into a new danger.

Well…each but Millie.

"It's a big blue thing!" she exclaimed, as oblivious to safety—or the lack thereof—as ever. "Just right over there." She kept pointing, making it easy for the others to find said blue thing against the starch sand.

"I see it," was all Wolfwood said before making a sharp turn and changing their course, the nose of the car turning to face the distant blob.

"Why are we going towards it?" Meryl asked, the usual touchy panic in her voice.

"Well, what better way to meet a threat than head-on?" countered the preacher. His audience was unconvinced.

"This is the last thing we—"

The shortest insurance girl present was cut off as Vash nearly jumped from his seat, standing on the car's floor and bracing himself against the back of the driver's seat with his hands. "Are those people?" he asked, shrilly. Sure enough, the closer they got, the more prominent the two silhouettes of a woman and a man became beside what could now be seen as a blue box.

"This isn't a good idea," Meryl repeated as the male figure in the distance started waving his arms, attempting to catch the attention of the already approaching vehicle.

"Oh, don't be such a worry-wart, Meryl," Millie replied, turning in her seat to address her friend more directly. "I'm sure they're nice people. And if they're not, we'll just tell them about Mr. Vash and they'll be sure to behave."

"Or try to take his head off right then and there!"

"Your faith in me is heartwarming, really," Vash muttered, still standing.

But Meryl could be right. He wasn't ignoring the fact. This could be just one more dumb thing he decided to do that'd lead to nothing but trouble. One more encounter that could put the only three humans he'd actively concerned himself with in decades in more peril than even he could get them out of. One more step closer to their or his death by his brother's hand—or worse…

…or he could be helping out a couple of harmless people in need. Who might decide to pass on that he's not so much of a homicidal maniac to whatever town they need a lift to. It could seriously go either way.

Besides, it's not like he'd ever turned down a chance to lend a helping hand before—why should he start being heartless now?

So…

"We should help them," he announced finally and sat down.

Wolfwood snorted. "Like we have a choice. We've been spotted."

"No, you think?" muttered Meryl. At this point both the woman and the man were waving limbs frantically for their attention. Soon, shouts of 'Hey!' and 'Over 'ere!' could be heard. This only proved to make Meryl more aggravated.

But, as usual, the voice of reason was ignored.

"'Ello, gents!" called the man, a tall brunette in a suit not unlike Wolfwood's. The woman—blonde, shorter and grinning at them all rather expectantly—waved enthusiastically as they drove up beside them and the tall blue carton outcropping from the sand. Vash did a double take as they pulled to a stop, just then taking notice to the white writing across the top of said square.

'Police Box'.

…what the hell?

"Sorry to flag you down like that," the man was saying, an accent Vash strangely couldn't place now becoming obvious in his voice, "but we're in a bit of a bind. Though maybe you've noticed. See," he started to lean on the hood of the car but quickly removed his hand when the temperature of the vehicle, especially in that of all areas, made itself painfully known. After a hiss and a shake of his scalded hand, the man continued, "agh, see, we," he motioned, between himself and the blonde girl, with his wounded appendage, "she and I, are currently…severely, ah, lacking in the whole transportation department."

The man's constant fiddling with his poor burned palm distracted most of the car from the amused look his companion made at the 'transportation' comment.

The driver smiled crookedly at them both, especially the girl, and was about to address them when the large woman seated beside him beat him to the chase with a loud outburst of giggles. "Wow, you sure have a funny way of speaking, Mister," Millie commented behind her hands, leaning around Wolfwood to be seen. "Where'd you get it from?"

"Millie!" cried Meryl. Promptly, the field agent leaned forward and clamped a petite hand over her friend's mouth. "Please excuse her," she then pleaded through her teeth. The stranger waved a hand in dismissal, apparently taking no offense. The woman, on the other hand—who Vash was beginning to expect was either the new man's girlfriend or his sister—didn't seem to share his views. She frowned and shifted her weight, trying not to look put-off.

Behind his shades, Wolfwood's slate eyes rolled in amusement at the exchange before settling once again on the travelers. "I think we could squeeze you in."

"Thank you!" the man exclaimed happily.

"Thank you," echoed the girl, nodding to them all.

Taking that as his cue, Vash stepped out of the car and held the door open for both of the strangers. "Please be on your best behavior," he said jokingly (but still meant every word) as they climbed in to cram next to short girl. He bowed slightly and winked at the blonde stranger as she passed.

"Oh sure," replied the newest female addition to the passengers, right in between her brother-boyfriend and Meryl, "we'll be th'very model of…model hitchhikers." The man beside her snorted at the anti-climactic sentence before nodding in agreement. Vash reentered the car, lips pulling despite himself.

After some adjusting, and complaints from the pointy haired outlaw that Wolfwood needed to cut down on mercy already—a comment accompanied of course with a kick to the Punisher leaning back between the seats repaid with a sock over the head from its owner—they started off once again. A fourth of an ile was spent in awkward silence after that, cracked only by the young blonde woman asking quietly if her friend's hand was really okay, until it was completely shattered by the clergyman.

"So, intros," Nick began. "I'm Wolfwood," and after motioning to himself, he gestured to the woman in the seat next to him.

"My name's Millie Thompson—or Stun-Gun Millie, I guess," the field agent replied, smiling sweetly at the couple. "But you don't have to worry about that. Unless of course you don't behave."

"Meryl Stryfe," the lesser insurance girl cut in before Millie could go on. Both hitchhikers already looked confused. "It's very nice to meet you." Both smiled at that and replied in kind.

So that left Vash. After puffing out his chest, now completely and totally in theatrics mode, he turned to his new audience. "And I," he addressed mainly the woman, "am a soldier of peace, hunting the elusive may-fly known as luh—"

"He's Vash," interrupting the rest of the car in unison. The man bit his lip, obviously trying to keep back some laughter at that.

"It's nice t'meet you," replied the girl, same giggle-hiding smile on her face. Vash blinked at that reaction.

That's odd. Maybe he just hadn't made it clear enough…

"Vash, the Stampede," he elaborated, a bit slower and with more emphasis.

The woman nodded, and repeated, "It's nice t'meet you."

"Cool title," finished the man, still grinning. "Wish I had one."

Now, when his companion's lips twitched, it didn't go unnoticed. Though, at this point, Vash was too flattered to care.

"I have more," he offered, eager to impress.

A quirky smile broke across the hitch-hiker's face, "Do you really?"

"Vash…" Meryl hissed. "Down boy."

The outlaw waved a hand in short girl's direction. "Yeah, yeah." He grinned at the man, "I'll tell you later."

"IIII'll be waiting," was the reply. "So! My turn, is it?" A majority of the car nodded. "Well, then, you can call me the Doctor."

And…silence.

"Doctor…who?" asked Millie, innocently. The blonde snorted.

"Nothing," said the man. "Just the Doctor. That's it. The end."

"And I'm Rose," said the girl.

That got Vash's attention.

He'd thought the stranger attractive from the moment he'd laid eyes on her, but a flower for a name? That just synched it. After all, Vash always did have a thing for red flora. Can you say 'soul mate'?

"Rose," he repeated, already making goo-goo eyes at her around her tall friend. "That is a beautiful name. It's a flower, you know. The rose. Red as blood and—"

"She knows it's a flower," supplied the Doctor quickly, cutting the gunman off. There was more of an edge to his smile now, but not enough to worry Vash much. It just answered the looming question of flirting-rights. "Don't you? Rose? Know it's a flower?"

"Uhh, yeah," replied Rose, quirking an eyebrow at both men. "I do."

Beside her, Meryl was attempting to glare a hole in between Vash's droopy, aquamarine eyes. "Don't mind him," she said, practically through clenched teeth. "He doesn't know how to control himself."

"Oh, that's alright!" The Doctor emphasized by reaching around and giving Vash a good-natured smack on the back. "There's worse things to lose control of than your mouth. Or…maybe there isn't, but it's alright. Really."

"And where were you two off to?" Wolfwood asked, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

"And why were you all the way out in the middle of no where like that?" added the Thompson.

Rose was about to reply when the Doctor butted in. "Oh, jus' a bit of bad luck, that's all. Horribly boring. Spare you the details, you understand."

"Yes, of course," replied Vash, nodding.

The Doctor nodded in return, "Quite." He went back to addressing the black haired man at the wheel. "As for where we're going—that doesn't really matter. If it's all right with you lot, we'll just tag along until the first city and be on our way."

"Doctor," interrupted Rose. "What about…" she cocked her head to the side and twirled a finger vaguely, "you know."

"Oh? Oh! The TARDIS'll pick us up after a bit of sight-seeing, don't worry." Then, before anyone could pop in a question concerning the 'T' word, he changed the subject. "And where are we headed? Or, where were you headed, before we came along?"

It was Vash and Wolfwood's turn to exchange slightly secretive glances.

Then, "Just a lil' place called Carcusus." The preacher tried to make it sound more off handed than it obviously was. The tension was just too evident. "Ever heard of it?"

"Nope," replied Rose quickly.

"Can't say I have either," agreed the Doctor.

And the car fell back into silence. Most everyone busied themselves with examining either their shoes or the lack of scenery. Rose, holding her sunglasses just above her eyes, watched as the TARDIS melted into the shimmering horizon. Vash got himself comfy in his little corner of seat space for a nap.

Eventually the Doctor just couldn't take it anymore.

"Have any of you, by chance, seen any Sandworms around here?"