Disclaimer: The Author does not own the Characters here presented.
Dramatis Personae:The Doctor – Time flies like an
arrow. Time Lords like a banana.
Robert Fitzwilliam – Jolly man,
fond of biscuits and incalculable odds.
The Attendant – Practically
perfect in every way.
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The Doctor was cheerfully chatting with a few of the other guests at the reception celebrating the 120th birthday of the 18th Warlord of New Mars. The event was a grand affair, dignitaries from many of the more primitive local worlds attending. The Warlord was well known for his extreme bravery, and the ability to seemingly defeat any enemy he was faced with. The ones attending the party were hoping to say on his good side.
He felt a discreet hand touch his arm. Mildly annoyed, Bob had just been telling the group about one of his many unlikely (and completely true) adventures with the celebrated Warlord, the Doctor turned around to see who desired his attention. One of the palace attendants stared back at him with coolly efficient eyes. It took the doctor one glance to tell that this was a man who was extraordinarily well put together. Really extraordinary, like a self-cleaning automatic coffee maker that actually did everything it claimed to do, without making a mess out of the counter, near perfection! Not a hair out of place, no dust on the jacket, and shoes perfectly shined. It wasn't often you saw such …efficiency. Perhaps this was why he was here. He hadn't run into trouble yet, and no one should possess that much exactness. Even the man's eyelashes were all arranged in a neat and orderly fashion. The Doctor was a bit perturbed that he had noticed that, but blamed it on the need to find something wrong with the man.
"Sir, I've been asked to deliver this to you."
'This' turned out to be a small white envelope, made with the finest of quality paper. The ink on the front was of a color unique to the Martians (both old and new) and inscribed on the front with two words; The Doctor. The envelope was lying on a small silver platter (impeccably polished), as the attendant waited patiently for him to take it.
"Where did you get this?"
"Sir," The tone the attendant held was somehow managing to impart that the man was both irked that he was asking him privileged information, and regretful that he could not tell him what he wanted to know. "It is not within my discretion to reveal the source of this letter. It is only my duty to deliver it".
"Hmm". The Doctor reached out and took the letter from the plate. He felt the thick textures of the paper, and placed his finger in the small opening of the envelope. He ripped open the envelope with a distinct sense of satisfaction. The Doctor grinned. It was the small pleasures in life that made the universe a pretty good place to exist, he supposed, not that you could chose to exist elsewhere. At least, he had never been given much choice. When ever he ended up outside the universe, peril was usually imminent, and a timely retreat in order.
He looked up with a smile on his face and a snappy quip, ready to fall form his lips, on the subject of universes and how they were rated according to overall quality of their manufactured goods, but the attendant appeared to be long gone with not even a ripple in his wake. The Doctor felt even more disturbed. Apparently, it was not too difficult to find good help these days!
Refocusing his attention back on the parchment he held in his hand the Doctor removed the card form the envelope. The card was simple and creamy white and had an even more enticing texture than the envelope. The Doctor even noticed the card giving of a faint floral aroma. Perhaps the card would give a clue as to how much perfection could exist in one place. After all the attention, it was finally opened, and the Doctor read what was inside.
Bad Wolf Sends Her Love.
All motion of time and space seemed to stop. Hope leapt throughout his body and he stood motionless and staring intensely at the words on the card. He could feel the release of chemical rushing through his blood stream. Rose. His Rose. Here. Now. Rose. The words seemed to form an endless loop in his mind.
"I say, Doctor, are you alright, you just missed the best part of my story about …"
Jolted into a stunned movement he ignored Bob's attempts to get his attention and started searching frantically around the room. "Rose. Rose!" A tense few seconds later he stopped. Wait a minute. If Rose were here and now, would she really have sent the note? The card was just a proclamation!
The Doctor's immediate hopes were squelched, and he was very upset that he couldn't have what he wanted right here and now! His sudden and furious exclamation startled the nearby group of Vegans into releasing a few of their defensive tranquilizing darts (considered impolite in the best of social circles). Luckily, only the guests from Quandary were in their path, and their many layers of clothing stopped the darts before medical help would need to be called. Therefore, the only result from the lack of courtesy was a few well placed icy glares. The Doctor remained oblivious to the entire exchange and gave a somewhat more sensible, if not any quieter or more pleasant, finish to his tirade.
"Thank you very much Rose, but I don't know where you are!"
The End
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Author's note:
I'm sorry about the Martians, and the color of the ink. On the plus side, I did not mention socks, especially purple ones.
Criticism is welcomed.