A/N: So, this is a sequel to my other Ben/Polly and Rory/Amy story, 'Two Boys, Two Girls And A Diner'. It's not strictly necessary that you read that one-basically, Ben and Polly (companions of Doctor #1 and #2) are married now, and they met Amy, Rory and Eleven at the end of Series 5 and all got on swimmingly. Still, I think you'd enjoy reading it. It's fun.
Anyway, for this story, I really enjoyed writing the Jacksons and the Ponds and Eleven, so they got a longer story this time. More action and excitement, some angst and drama and hopefully some humor, and it all ended up being kind of rough on Rory. Again. Apparently I do that. (Sorry, Rory. You really are my favorite, I promise.)
For Ben and Polly, this happens a couple of weeks after the first story, still in 1971. For Eleven and the Ponds, it's sometime after Let's Kill Hitler. I hope you enjoy it.
The sudden silence that filled the room was deafening. For a moment, Polly could do nothing but stare blankly at the remains of her sitting room. The floor was littered with ripped magazine pages, shards of glass from a fallen picture frame and the cushions that had once resided on the now overturned furniture. The desk she was crouching beside seemed to be the only untouched thing in the room, although most of the papers that had lain on top were now scattered across the room. Awkwardly, she pushed herself to her feet, wincing as something sharp cut into her hand. She stared for a long moment at the shattered pieces of Ben's coffee cup on the floor, only distantly aware of the fresh blood dripping from her hand to join the still-warm coffee as it stained the carpet.
A soft breeze whistling through the hole in the front window snapped her back to her senses. She blinked, took another look at the room and turned quickly to the desk. Blood from her hand smeared across bank statements and a letter to her mother as she rifled through the stacks of paper in each drawer, but she paid it no mind. Her search became more and more frantic as each stack failed to produce what she was looking for—she flung the useless papers back behind her to join the mess on the floor, and pulled the last drawer open with such vehemence that it flew right out of the desk and clattered to the floor. A tear rolled unbidden down her cheek as her search became more desperate. "Please," she whispered. "I know it's here somewhere."
A sudden cry escaped her lips as, suddenly, there it was. A serviette, clean but for a small stain of custard in the top corner and a series of numbers scrawled across the bottom. Polly was suddenly aware of the unshed tears clouding her eyes and wiped them away quickly so she could read those blessed numbers.
Despite everything else that had happened, the telephone bizarrely remained sitting neatly at the corner of the desk. She snatched it up and began to dial the number from the serviette, cursing the slowness of the rotary dial. Finally it started to ring. And ring. And ring. "Please, please, please pick up," she murmured. She swallowed down a sob as it continued to ring. "Please."
Abruptly the ringing stopped, replaced by a woman's voice. "Hello?" it said cautiously. "Who is this?"
"Amy?" Polly wasn't sure if she was going to laugh or cry in relief. "Amy, it's Polly."
"Polly?" The voice on the other end suddenly sounded much cheerier. "Right. Sorry, I didn't have your number in here, so I—"
"Amy, I need your help," Polly interrupted. "It's Ben. He's gone."
"Gone? What happened?" Amy asked, suddenly serious.
"I—I don't know," Polly stammered. "He just vanished, right in front of me! There was this man—he appeared out of nowhere, and he had a gun, and then Ben—They're both gone, Amy, I don't know what happened!"
"Okay. Don't worry. We're on our way as soon as I tell the Doctor. We're coming."
"Thank you," Polly said quietly.
A burst of wind rushed through Polly's sitting room, scattering the mess more thoroughly around the room. Her eyes brightened as she heard a familiar grating sound. Before she could blink, the TARDIS had materialized at the door to the sitting room. The door swung open, and the Doctor was nearly bowled over as Polly flung herself into his arms.
"Doctor! I'm so glad you've come! I—I didn't know what to do, and…" she exclaimed.
The Doctor hugged her back tightly and stroked her hair reassuringly. "Of course I came. Don't worry, my dear, we're going to find him. Now," he pulled out of the hug and held her at arms' length, bending down a bit to look her straight in the eye. "Tell me what happened."
By this time, Amy and Rory had come out of the TARDIS behind him. Polly took a deep breath and said, a little shakily, "We were just sitting here having tea." She gestured at the smashed cup on the carpet. "We were talking—Ben was…was going to make dinner tonight—and then there was a sort of crackling sound and a green flash of light, and there was a man standing there!" She pointed to the centre of the room. The Doctor rushed to the spot she had indicated and crouched, examining the carpet. "At least, I think he was a man, he was all dressed in black and wearing some sort of helmet. His hands looked human, though, and he was holding a gun. As soon as he saw us, he lifted the gun—Ben moved in front of me and the man just leapt towards him. Ben pushed him back, and shouted for me to move…They were struggling," she waved a hand to take in the mess. "And then he had his arms around Ben's neck and there was that light again and they just…they just disappeared!" Her voice cracked, and she began to cry in earnest now, no longer able to hold back her tears.
Amy put her arms around her and led her to the sofa. Rory picked up a cushion from the floor for her and the two women sat down, Polly crying softly against Amy's shoulder. "I'm sorry," Polly said after a moment, raising her head. With a shaking hand she wiped the tears from her eyes.
"It's okay," Amy assured her. "Don't worry, we'll find him."
"Polly?" asked Rory, crouching down in front of her. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you or," he glanced quickly down at her stomach, "or the baby, did he?"
"No," Polly said, drawing in a long breath to compose herself. "He didn't touch me."
"What about your hand?" Gently, Rory took her bleeding hand and examined it.
"Oh, it's nothing," she said, trying to pull away. "I just cut it on the cup…"
"Let me fix it up for you. It looks quite deep," Rory said, not letting go. She nodded, and he returned to the TARDIS, appearing a moment later with a medical kit.
Amy watched the Doctor for a moment, wrinkling her nose as he licked the carpet, then turned back to face Polly. "So are you…" she gestured at Polly's stomach as she searched for the right words. "Are you still pregnant, or is this…another one?"
Polly looked up, a small smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. "Still. It's only been two weeks since you left, you know."
"Oh. Been a bit longer for us," Amy said.
Rory had just finished with Polly's hand when the Doctor sprang to his feet. "Does anyone else smell that?" he asked suddenly. The other three shook their heads, and he regarded them with disbelief. "Really? I mean, it's so strong, I think I can…" He stuck out his tongue and made a face. "Blech. I can actually taste it."
"What is it?" asked Rory.
"Residual energy from the teleport. And quite a lot of it too. Really, that's just wasteful. Talk about needing to go green." He crouched back down to the floor, poking at what looked like a tiny scorch mark with his sonic screwdriver, and then leapt to his feet again. The sonic hummed as he spun in a circle, waving it from the floor to over his head and back again several times. "Ah, ha, ha, ha!" he shouted triumphantly. Holding his sonic screwdriver aloft, he turned and practically flew back into the TARDIS. A few moments later he stuck his head back out. "What, are you lot not coming? Come on then, shift!" He jerked his head back into the TARDIS.
The three of them got up to follow, but the Doctor appeared again as they reached the door. "Oh no, not you," he said to Polly. "You need to stay here."
"Why?" she demanded.
"Because it's dangerous, that's why!"
"It's always dangerous with you," she said, exasperated.
"What? No it isn't! Well, sometimes, but maybe—that's not the point!" he huffed. "The point is, that it's dangerous this time, and you're…"
He gestured at her, lost for words, and she crossed her arms. "Having a baby?"
"Yes!" He pointed triumphantly at her, as if he had just won a point. "That."
"I'm still coming."
"No! I'm not having it. Something could happen to you, or your baby, or you could, oh…you could have the baby, and—"
"Look at all this! Something could happen to me here!" Polly shouted. "The baby's isn't coming for another three weeks, and believe me," she said, placing a protective hand over her stomach. "I will be careful. But I'm not going to sit here doing nothing while Ben is in trouble somewhere out there!"
The Doctor looked ready to argue further when Amy placed a hand on his arm. "Doctor," she said softly. "Let her come. It's her husband we're talking about."
"We can't leave her here," Rory agreed.
The Doctor said nothing for a moment, then sighed. "Fine. Let's go then." He ducked back into the TARDIS, and the other three followed.
The door shut behind them, and Polly gasped. "Oh!" she breathed, her hand flying to her mouth. She stared in fascination at the shining glass floor, the grand sweeping staircase, and the mosaic of bits and pieces that made up the centre console.
The Doctor looked up from where he was plugging the sonic into a slot by one of the screens. "Oh yes, I've redecorated since you were last here."
"Redecorated? Is this even the same room? I think it's bigger than last time."
"I think you're right." He shrugged, and patted the TARDIS console. "She does that sometimes." He smiled. "What do you think?"
"Oh, it's lovely," Polly said.
The Doctor grinned, and Rory tapped him on the shoulder. "Um, Doctor? Aren't we in a hurry?"
The Doctor spun around quickly to face Rory. "Yes. Right you are, Rory. The TARDIS should be done with that analysis by now." He pulled the sonic out of its slot and the console dinged at him. "Ah, here we go." He flicked a few switches and the TARDIS shuddered to life. "Geronimo!" he said with a grin.
A dull thud and a sharp pain in his foot brought Ben awake with a groan. "Careful!" he heard a voice snap. " Meant to be undamaged when we turn 'em in. You'll be in enough trouble as it is for what you did to his eye."
"Oh, it'll heal quick enough," grumbled a second voice.
Ben blinked, forcing his eyes open. It hurt more to open the left one. He realized he was staring at the ground, supported on either side by a black-clad figure. They held his arms so tightly he was losing feeling in his fingers. His feet seemed slow to respond, but he kicked out in an effort to stand. He tried to jerk his arm away from one of his captors, but to no avail. "What's going on?" he demanded, looking up to see the two men, their faces covered with black visors. "Where am I and what have you done with Polly?"
"Oh, shut up," the first guard said, tugging roughly on his arm and continuing to drag him forward.
"Told you he'd wake up before we got there," the second one said. "That's a drink you owe me." His companion said nothing, merely grunted in response.
Ben struggled again, but his guards plowed on ahead. Suddenly, he found himself being dragged through a narrow doorway and hoisted into the air, only to slam unceremoniously down onto a table. He made to sit up, but restraints were being fastened around his ankles, wrists and elbows, and another slammed down suddenly around his neck like a collar. The two guards tromped out of the room. "Oi!" Ben shouted, tugging uselessly against the restraints.
"Do stop that, you'll only hurt yourself," said a new voice. A man in a white coat drifted into his field of vision. He looked down at Ben's face and gave a disapproving 'tsk', his upper lip curling slightly. "Undamaged indeed. Idiots," he muttered.
"What?"
"Wasn't talking to you," the man said, moving back out of sight. "Still, considering what they're capable of, I suppose a black eye isn't much to worry about. Did they do any other damage?" A pause. "I was talking to you this time, human."
"Um, no, I don't think so," Ben said. Not that this had looked good from the start, but it was suddenly looking worse. "What d'you mean by calling me 'human'?"
"Well, you are, aren't you?"
"But you're not." Ben really hoped he was wrong.
The man slid back into view with an unsettling grin. "Afraid not." He studied Ben a moment, who kept his face steady despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. "You don't seem nearly as startled by that as any of your predecessors. I thought your kind was unaware of life beyond your own planet."
"Yeah well, I've been around a bit. Look, what's going on? Where's Polly?"
"Polly? What does that mean?" the man asked, wrinkling his nose.
"She's my wife and I want to know what you've done with her!"
"Ah! I see. I'm sure your concern is touching, but as far as I know, no females have been brought up this cycle. And as to what is going on, it really isn't any concern of yours."
Ben snorted. "Yeah, well I disagree, mate."
The man smiled that unsettling smile again. "You have spirit. Excellent. We can use that. However," he paused and pressed something sharp against the side of Ben's face. There was a slight buzz, and he found himself suddenly unable to move his tongue. "That's enough talk for now, I think. Much more important things to do, and honestly, you ask the same questions as all the others and I'm quite frankly tired of it. Now, let's begin, shall we?"