Author's note: This takes place immediately following Bizarre and The Doctor Dances. I do not own any of these people except for one character mentioned in the final section. The BBC owns the Avengers and Doctor Who. CBS owns Devon and Wilton. Fans of the Ghost and Mrs. Muir From This Day On series should note this will tie in eventually. Thanks to Mary for all help and support.
"Oh, man, you have some GREAT music here," Captain Jack Harkness raved as he shuffled through the Doctor's collection.
"So glad you approve," the Doctor replied sarcastically.
Rose mentally sighed. She wondered if these two would learn to get along before her feet gave out. Since they had escaped from World War II's bombs and the zombies, she had danced the jitterbug, the Charleston, flamenco, the tango, and a few she had never heard of, alternating between the two guys who were trying to outdo each other in her eyes. "Hey, find a slow one for the next, yeah?"
"Starting to flag on us?" Jack quipped with a grin as he looked at the flag painted on her chest. Okay, he was probably not looking at the flag, but she was too sore to think about anything else. "Let's see. Got it." A moment later, Frank Sinatra was crooning Fly Me to the Moon.
Rolling her neck, Rose looked up at the Doctor. "Ever been there?"
"Where? The moon? 'Course I have. That's hardly a trip," he scoffed. "If you mean Earth's moon. There's millions of them." He shook his head. "Your silly people got all excited when they landed there. Like that was a big accomplishment."
"It was," she felt compelled to defend her planet. "For us. And don't give me that. You were excited for Earth when that fake space ship crashed into the Thames. I bet you were like a little boy on Christmas when the first rocket landed on the moon. Or were you there, waitin' for them?"
The Doctor scowled. "I watched it on the telly, like everyone else." He dropped her hands and let the dance end.
"How come?" Jack asked before Rose could.
Knowing the two humans would natter at him until he told them, the Doctor bit out, "I was in a spot of trouble with my people, okay? Had to watch all the space shots from Earth. I wasn't allowed to travel in time or space until '73. Do you have any idea how - galling it was to see a bunch of stupid apes running around out there while I was landlocked?" He threw his arms out in disgust.
"I'd like to see it, up close," Rose said unexpectedly. "I know it's - not much, but I always used ta look up at the moon and wonder what it'd be like to go there. So, could we? Please?"
"It's just a hunk of rock," the Doctor said. "All cluttered up with stuff the astronauts left."
Rose poked her lip out, pouting a little. He wasn't falling for that again.
"Don't worry, Rosie. Next port we get to, I'll get a ship," Jack promised. "Take you wherever you want to go. The moon, the stars ... "
"You just want more space junk to run a con with," the Doctor stabbed a finger at the pirate. "And, how are you going to get a ship? You didn't pack a bag and wallet before we teleported you."
"I have my ways."
"I just bet," the Doctor snorted and began whirling dials.
"So, where're we off to?" Rose asked.
"Moon, 1969, before it gets too littered," the Doctor replied.
A few seconds later, he was frowning at the screen. "Hang on, what's this?"
"We're already there?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, we are," the Doctor grinned tightly, patting the console. "Best ship in the universe here, y'know."
"What's wrong?" Rose asked, coming over to look at the miniature television monitor in which she saw a rocket hurtling toward the moon.
"That's not supposed to be there," the Doctor replied, checking the date on another screen. "Wrong date for a moon-shot. And, that looks like some kinda toy, not a real space vehicle."
Rose rolled her eyes. He could be so condescending. "I know we aren't sophisticated, but give us a break!"
"No, he's right," Jack said as he peered over the Doctor's shoulder from the other side. "This is the wrong date and that is definitely not a NASA ship. The Time Agency may have stolen my personal memories, but I do remember every detail of Earth history. That is out of place."
"Well, they sent up some satellites and test ships, didn't they? Maybe that's one?" Rose asked.
"No, it's no automated ship and it's not animals aboard. There's two humans," The Doctor said as he realigned another set of dials. "Let's see if I can pick up radio transmissions. There's gotta be some explanation."
Through the static, he heard a familiar voice barking, "Look, Mother, I am sorry, but our space expert is not available at the moment... No, I cannot get him back. What were you thinking, sending up two unprepared people in a homemade vessel?"
Sadly, the Time Lord smiled. "So, that's what had you in a bad mood today, Alistair," he murmured, too low for his two friends to hear. He couldn't blame Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. The idea of two civilians joyriding in outer space was a headache producing thought.
XXX
Steed ducked as a champagne flute floated past his head. Fortunately, it was empty, now. Where its contents had landed was somewhat less fortunate. He did hope Tara's dress was washable, and that they would be able to get home to washing machines or dry-cleaners before the air ran out.
"This could be rather fun, you know," he said with a forced smile. "Floating around like this is quite - relaxing."
His only answer was a groan from the corner of the homemade rocket where Tara King had managed to anchor herself while she tried to not be violently space-sick. If he had ever found her tempting, that impulse was completely quelled by her green complexion.
"Do you think Mother can get us back soon?" she whined again. Steed had kept track of her complaints for the last three hours and reckoned that was the fourth time she had asked that particular question. It was becoming somewhat wearisome.
"I'm sure he will as soon as the red tape can be cut." Steed paused to rescue his bowler as it tried to drift off his head again. "NASA will loan the department a ship, or perhaps ... " he trailed off. He had heard about an institute that had dealt with all things odd since Queen Victoria's day, but was not sure Tara had high enough clearance for him to mention it. Of course, if Torchwood rescued them, that would be a moot point. "If nothing else, he can call in Father. Few people refuse her."
Tara nodded miserably. "That's true." She sniffed. "I'm sorry for hitting that button."
"Quite all right, m'dear," Steed, ever the gentleman, assured her. He did not point out that Mrs. Gale or Emma Peel would have NEVER done something so foolish as to punch a button that they did not know what it would do. For that matter, he was quite sure Mrs. Peel could have flown the thing and they would not be facing potential death from asphyxiation.
There was blessed silence for a few minutes, then Tara gulped and managed to say, "You know, this could have been a very ... very romantic - expedition."
Steed closed his eyes. Granted, he was flattered by the young woman's attention and obvious crush, and he had been in a state of rebound when she had tripped into his life. However, she had not been any sort of replacement for Mrs. Peel, personally or professionally, and he should never have flirted with her. It had just come naturally. It was what he did. "Tara, I do not know how long we will have to wait, red tape being as sticky as it is. In light of that, do remember we have only so much oxygen available. If we do not talk and keep our movements minimal, it will last longer."
"Oh." She lost her grip and began floating. "Sorry, it's hard to keep still when nothing else is!"
Steed smiled kindly and held a finger to his lips. If she did not chatter, it might be endurable.
Her flailing foot struck his shoulder.
Or it might not be.
The next instant, he felt himself striking the ground. From a very undignified position, Steed looked up to see a young man in an RAF uniform, a chap in a leather jacket, and a girl wearing a Union Jack shirt peering at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tara sprawled on the floor of a very odd-looking place. Green light illuminated her face most unflatteringly. Perhaps she was simply still ill.
"Hold on, if you're going to be sick," the leather jacketed bloke rapidly said. "Jack, get her out of the console room. The loo is- I don't know where the TARDIS has put it, but she'll make sure it's close for an emergency."
"Gotcha," the other man nodded, leaning down to scoop Tara up gallantly. "Hold it for just a minute, sweetheart. Captain Jack Harkness, by the way."
"We should have kept some of the nanogenes," the girl sing-songed.
The man shrugged. "Hindsight, wouldacouldashoulda, yada, and so forth. Here, let me give you a hand up. You plannin' on being sick too? I'm the Doctor, by they way. She's Rose, and you already heard, that fellow who made off with your girl, he's good at that, is Jack Harkness." So saying, he hauled Steed to his feet.
"Captain Jack," Rose said pointedly.
"I still say he was defrocked," the Doctor grumbled. "Now, who are you and what were you doing out in space without a proper ship?"
"No, I am not planning on being ill. John Steed. Captain or Mister Harkness has my associate, Tara King with him." Steed peered around. "We got into space by accident."
"Some accident," Rose muttered.
"She pushed the wrong button," Steed sighed.
Under his breath, the Doctor ranted, "First I get String Theory's and Time travelers with smart-aleck holograms from 1995 -- now secret agents and home made rocket ships... when will these stupid apes learn to let things be?"
Steed caught a bit of this, and to change the subject as much as anything else, asked, "Doctor what?"
The Doctor rolled his eyes while Rose sniggered. "Just the Doctor. Steed. John Steed, you say? Oh, fantastic! FANTASTIC. I always wanted to meet you, but never got around to it. Did we leave Mrs. Peel on your ship?" His expressive face reshaped itself into an intense frown. "That will never do." He was across the ship in an instant, calibrating things.
"Mrs. Peel is no longer with me," Steed admitted slowly. "I've been training Tara since her - departure."
The Doctor's frenetic movements halted as he looked up to stare at John Steed. "What? History's gone wrong. Again."
Steed looked at Rose. "What's he talking about, my dear?"
The young woman blushed under his gaze and shrugged. "I haven't a clue. He gets like this."
Steed nodded as if he understood. "How did you hear about me, if I might inquire?"
The Doctor shrugged. "I know everything, well, most everything. Anything worth knowing, that is. And, you know how it is at the government. I know I heard Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart mention you a time or two, but I already knew about you and Mrs. Peel."
"Again, I must ask how?"
"You're famous in the history books, or will be."
"We travel in time," Rose offered helpfully, figuring that the Doctor had said enough that it should be obvious or confusing or both. "He did this to Charles Dickens, too."
Steed nodded vaguely. "This is real? I did encounter some criminals once who had convinced their victims that they had managed to travel in time ... "
"Real as you are," the Doctor confirmed. "Now, is there anyone or anything left in that toy you were flying around in?"
"Well, there are a couple of champagne glasses, miscellaneous type things. Nothing important," the agent shrugged. "My brolly, but I have others."
"Fantastic," the Doctor grinned, though Rose was certain that no matter what the response had been, he would have said that. "So, why isn't Mrs. Peel with you?"
"Thought you'd have known; her husband came out of the jungle he got lost in," Steed said with an unintentional sigh. "She went back to him, naturally."
"Thought YOU woulda known, being in MI-5 1/2, they divorced not a year after that," the Doctor shot back.
Just then, Jack walked back into the control room. "Tara's cleaning herself up. Told her to borrow something from the wardrobe." His eyes scanned the Doctor in assessment. "Somehow, I just don't see you in a purple dress, Doc."
"Coulda been mine," Rose pointed out, though it wasn't and she wondered whose it had been.
"Wrong size, and you would have let her use it anyway."
"Well, yeah."
"See. All worked out," Jack beamed.
"Say, Captain," the Doctor called, "you were saying you needed a new ship ... "
"After mine blew up," Jack reminded the Time Lord. "Sacrificed for the greater good," he added to Steed.
"I found ya a new one," the Doctor beamed. "Call it an early Christmas present. Course, it's always Christmas somewhen, so it might be late. Steed's ship is available."
Jack pursed his lips and appeared to consider the matter. "Does it have an escape pod under the kitchen sink?"
Blinking, Steed answered, "Ah, no. Neither, actually. No escape pod, nor a kitchen sink to put it under."
The wayward pirate shook his head. "No deal then. After the last incident, I insist on an escape pod as one of the accessories. And a fully stocked bar."
"I'm sure those instructions would have come next week, along with the directions on how to get home," Steed noted dryly.
"Well, I'll just alter the ship's trajectory so it heads for the sun. No sense in having some half-witted astronomer deciding he's sighted an alien landing vessel," the Doctor went on as he made some adjustments. "There. By the time they launch the next satellite, much less the Hubble, it'll be long gone." Frowning, he began patting his pockets. "Ah, here it is."
"What it?" Steed inquired.
"Paper. Psychic paper," the strange man answered, handing him a piece. "Just think of the phone number we need to call to let Mother know you are on the way home, and we can be on our way there."
Steed took the proffered object and began turning it over in fascination. He saw a string of numbers appear as well as words. Remarkable! We could use some of this stuff came into view as rapidly as it entered his head.
"Careful with your ideas around that," Rose smirked, thinking about how much she'd accidentally revealed to Jack while holding that stuff.
"I will - keep that in mind, no pun intended," Steed winked.
The Doctor retrieved the sheet and studied it. "Thanks. I'll make that call while Rose takes you back to the kitchen for some tea or something stronger. Or some carrot juice. I haven't gotten rid of all that stuff even after ... what feels like three lifetimes."
"Why on earth did you stock up on it if you hate it?" Steed asked, pausing as he reached over to take Rose's arm.
"Long story and quite boring. Haven't you ever decided to get healthy and had regrets later? Kitchen was down the left hand corridor, past three doors, turn right at the intersection, then take the stairs down until you get to another hall, and it's the fifth door on the left, last I looked," the Doctor instructed.
"Fourth on the right. It moved," Rose corrected.
"Again?"
"How big is this place?" Steed shook his head in wonder. "Never mind. Could one of you check on my companion? I fear she might get misplaced."
"Good point. That purple dress belonged to someone who got lost in here, once. Jack - "
"On my way," the captain grinned.
Once he was alone again, the Doctor lifted the anachronously old-fashioned dial phone and made his calls. Steed had thought more than one number.
After making sure Jack was behaving reasonably well around the young woman who put new meaning into the term "green" agent, the Doctor headed to the kitchen to tell Rose and Steed they'd be landing in a few minutes. He wanted to give all parties time to collect themselves.
Rose was perched on an old-fashioned soda shop stool as she listened to Steed talk. It was clear the girl was impressed by the suave gentleman who seemed to have adapted quite rapidly to the whole situation.
"So, Doctor, from how far in the future are you all?" Steed inquired politely.
"Rose is from about thirty years ahead of now," the Doctor said. "Jack comes from about thirty centuries beyond that, though we picked him up - "
"He picked ME up, literally," Rose corrected.
" - From World War II," the Doctor went on, not missing a beat.
"Another long story, eh?" Steed guessed. "And yourself?"
"Tougher answer to give," the Doctor shrugged. "I've been all over your world's timelines, but I'm from another world." A look for pain flickered across his face, causing Rose to slip off her seat and cross the room to take his hand and give him a tiny smile. After the Dalek incident and what had happened with her dad, she got how deeply the loss of his planet cut.
Steed's brows lifted. "Not Venus, I trust."
The dark look passed changed into a deep laugh in an instant. "No. I try to avoid that place. Bad for the skin."
"Well, it would be, I suppose, being so much closer to the sun," Steed agreed.
"Yeah, speaking of which," the Doctor nodded, then reached somewhere behind his back to pull out a large umbrella. "I went through a phase of carrying this, but got no use for it now. A remembrance for you, if you like."
Steed took it, noting the multiple question marks decorating it as his fingers wrapped around the handle. "Thank you." He doubted, sincerely, that he would ever forget this, though.
"We will be landing shortly, so if you'll move to the console room ... " the Doctor continued, stepping aside to make a sweeping gesture towards the door.
"Already?" Steed blinked.
"We're the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy," Rose boasted.
"Oi, Rose. It's the universe," the Doctor corrected. "And this ship isn't junk. Besides, that movie hasn't come out, yet."
Steed and Rose began walking in the direction he had indicated. "Let's see, Heathrow is about ... " the man mused aloud, trying to calculate how to get back to headquarters.
"We aren't landing at Heathrow," the Doctor informed him as they walked along.
"Oh. Well, that makes sense. This craft is too large to land there, to be sure," Steed nodded, glancing around. He wondered why Rose looked like she was going to bust with laughter.
"Tara and Jack are already at the front, or should be," the Doctor said.
"Captain Jack?" Rose teased.
The Doctor just rolled his eyes.
"Where will we be landing, then?" Steed asked.
"Your backyard," the Doctor grinned, shaking the normally unflappable agent's calm demeanor.
"My - ? But- that is impossible! My yard won't hold something of this size! I'm not sure London would if it was flattened!" Steed stopped in his tracks. "If you are intending to flatten London, or any city, I will, no matter how grateful I am for the rescue, have to stop you."
The grin widened. "Of course you would, Steed, old boy. But, no worries. Nothing's gettin' flattened. Well, if you have a favorite flower bed, I might hit it, but other than that... "
With Steed still trying to sort all this in his mind, they re-entered the oddly lit command center. Jack and Tara, who was looking more collected now, were already there.
"Doctor, we just touched down. There are soldiers waiting outside, by the way," the younger man said.
"Sorta expected that," the Doctor said nonchalantly. He peered into the small television screen that showed the outside world. "Good. Alistair came along. He recognizes the ship, I can tell. We won't be shot on sight." Then, he frowned. "Well, it is Alistair, and he likes to shoot things, so we probably won't be shot on sight." A look of secretive joy danced around the edges of the alien Time Lord's expression. "Jack, open the door and let our guests disembark."
"People with guns out there and he sends me first. Nice," the captain commented. Pushing open the door, he called out, "We're friendly!"
Steed, with Tara, who still seemed a little shaky, following, came out around the pirate. "We're fine, Mother. You can put away the guns," he told the UNIT soldiers who had their weapons at the ready.
The obese man known as "Mother" was pushed forward in his wheelchair by a distinguished, military man. "What the blazes is this? A police public call box appearing out of thin air? With three people inside?"
"Five, actually," Steed corrected, glancing back to look at the Doctor and Rose as they came forward. "Police box?"
The Brigadier shook his head, "Typical. Just typical. Showing off." He turned to his troops. "Go on back to headquarters. Everything is in order. I will be back there soon."
By the time he had turned back to the TARDIS, the passengers and crew were standing on the grass. The Doctor had the rare pleasure of seeing his old friend disconcerted. "Doctor? But you - ?"
The Doctor held up a hand. "Say no more, Brigadier. I'm from your future, and I should not know that I visited here now, if you take my meaning." A gentler smile than his normal manic grin softened his face. "It's good to see you again."
Sensing that something was different, that somehow between the present and whatever this Doctor's current time was, there had been much grief, Alistair nodded shortly. "Very well. Thank you for handling this, Doctor. Splendid chap, all of you." He glanced at Mother. "I'll return to UNIT now. Try to keep your agents on Earth in the future."
"All of you?" Rose whispered to the Doctor.
"My past and future, you might say. I'm an all around splendid chap," he evaded. "Nothing to concern you just now."
"Steed, Miss King, do you have any idea how much trouble you have caused?" Mother fumed.
"My apologies," Steed placated.
"It was my fault," Tara said in a small voice. "I pushed the button."
"Of that I am certain," Mother glared at her. "But, Steed, you were responsible for her training. Obviously, some changes need to be made. Miss King, you will be reassigned first thing after you return from your unpaid leave of absence, during which time you will contemplate which buttons to push and which NOT to push."
The girl's head dropped in shame.
"As for you, Steed, I have turned the matter of you over to someone else," the head of MI 5 1/2 huffed.
"Hey, look, it wasn't his fault," Jack objected. "And, it coulda happened to anyone." The captain stopped abruptly. Now, why was he caring what happened to anyone else? These two non-time agents were a bad influence on him.
"Shut it," the Doctor softly advised as a tall, titian-haired lady came up the walk to look at Steed with an enigmatic expression.
"Mrs. Peel!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken. It's Ms. Knight," she said calmly as she walked toward him. A tiny smile curved her lips. "Mr. Steed, you are needed."
"Am I?"
"By me."
Behind them, the Doctor clapped his two companions on the shoulder. "Fantastic. C'mon. I promised to take Rose to Woman Wept."
Epilog
8 years later
Sunlight streamed into the room that served as a home office for both the president of Knight Enterprises and once in a while for the head of MI 5 1/2. The last few years had been quite busy for John Steed and Emma Knight Peel Steed. Although she had insisted on a courtship, it had been brief and they were married within the year after Steed's return from outer space. Tara King had been reassigned and turned out to be a decent agent due to the superior training she had received. Due to health issues, Mother had been forced to retire not long afer the newlyweds returned from their honeymoon, and Steed was the logical choice to take over his duties. From time to time, Mrs. Steed agreed to step in when she was needed, but most of her time was divided between running the family company and running the family. Among the papers stacked neatly on her desk wer an array of photographs; Steed's nieces, nephews, goddaughter, and the seven-year-old twins, Phillip and Pamela, who had their parents wrapped around their fingers.
Emma looked up from dealing with her correspondence as Steed entered the room chuckling softly. "Your children have just about run Nanny ragged, I do believe."
Favoring him with her patent look, Mrs. Steed remarked, "Why are they my children when they are listening to the imp on their shoulders, and yours when it's the angel's turn?"
"Isn't it obvious?" he quipped. "Anything interesting in the mail?" He peered at the letter in her hand.
"I shouldn't let you get away with changing the subject."
"But you will."
"This time. Charley sends her love. She writes that after studying acting in her first year in college, she has almost decided that she prefers the notion of management to being on the stage itself."
"She'd be good at it. There's times my godchild has reminded me of you, my dear," Steed smiled.
"If you want to charm your way into my good graces, tell me how to politely tell my black-sheep, and favorite, cousin, Wilton, he's gone insane," she retorted. "He wants my Knight Enterprises to help his Knight Industries by supplying artificial intelligence for a talking car."
Steed took the letter she was holding and scanned it over. "Now, this is interesting."
The "Peel" look was amped up a degree or two. "Really?"
"He mentions that his right hand in this is Devon Miles, chap I worked with in the OSS back in World War II," Steed explained. Thinking of that time, he idly wondered what had ever become of the chap his rescuer had picked up in that era, who had been from the fifty-first century. "In any case, if Miles is in on this, despite Wilton's reputation for being somewhat the Don Quixote of your clan, I'd say you should agree to help on this endeavor." He grinned. "They need you, Mrs. Steed."
Shaking her head in amusement, she half-laughed, "You could get me to agree to anything with that line. Very well. I'll offer my support immediately."
"Actually, my dear, I had need of you first."
"Last and always, I take it?"
"Just so."