A quiet life. Just what the doctor ordered, thought the Doctor. Nothing to do but just listen to the crinkling and sliding of pages and creaking of book spines, that sort of thing. Simply marvelous, that was. Landing on a Sunday was sharp thinking furthermore, should lead to a calm affair all around. Silent enough to get a lot of reading done. The TARDIS library hadn't taken long to fill. Many books were already stored inside, but even so, the Doctor went to the trouble of adding another wing just to sport many of the native Earth texts he particularly favored. Adding space to the TARDIS was a bit like asking a Sontaran general to try and be more aggressive. There just isn't a whole lot of space left for this sort of thing, but extra library wings are always important.
The Doctor had finished his read through of Sense and Sensibility again (loves the book; wishes Austen would have kept in the dueling scene between Willoughby and the Colonel) and had just sat down with his copy of Oh the Places You'll Go! Much more complex and time consuming document. While opening the cover, he noticed that someone was sitting next to him. Before he could register who it was, he took a few milliseconds to ponder why he even had two chairs near one another in his library. The answer was depressing.
"Hello" said the Doctor. "It's good to see you again. Odd to see you here, honestly, but still." He paused for effect. "Not unwelcome, you are. I don't get a lot of visitors unannounced. Come to think, I don't have a lot of visitors. Most people usually run into the TARDIS screaming for their lives, so things like offering guests a drink and making sure they're relaxed is not exactly second nature."
Rambling, in the Doctor's mind, seemed a good way to avoid the conversation he knew they'd be having in a moment. "Like a drink? Does your kind drink? I'm afraid I've never seen your mouths" the Doctor probed awkwardly, wondering whether it was rude to ask. "Here for a quick kip perhaps? I don't have many beds. Don't sleep much myself. Not sure if your kind sleep either. I should probably add more books about you to my library, though I don't know where we'd find the space…" The person near him used the small pause to commence his side of the conversation.
"Begging your pardon, we must discuss your song. It is soon ending. It would be preferable for you to be ready promptly. You will soon be summoned" greeted Ood Sigma.
"Sorry darling. I'm on call ain't I?" argued Mickey. "If it wasn't important, they wouldn't contact me. Especially not now. I don't even know how many people are downtown at the moment. Quick knock in and I'll be right back to -"
"But you promised," interrupted Martha Smith. "You promised Christmas Eve was a special day. 'A solemn night which I will hold dear and treat you like the Queen herself then' were, I believe, your exact words. You and me, we've been on so many separate assignments lately. I haven't got to talk with you like this in ages. It's nice Mickey! Why can't you send Private Crem?"
"What, just tell Private Crem to go? You don't think he's with his family as well do ya?" asked Mickey.
"No. He lives alone, and his mother can spare him a few hours. Private Crem adores you and you know he'd go. Loves following orders, Private Crem does. We need this time together, love. I miss you. I do." Martha pleaded.
"I'll be back at the flat in a jiff. Love you," urged Mickey.
"Love you too," sighed Martha.
Mickey gave Martha a kiss on the head and a gentle pat on the navel, and promptly left the pub. Martha was starting to wonder whether she and her husband should continue to work for U.N.I.T. The ongoing stress was starting to make her feel queasy at times. Mickey and Martha had decided long ago that the safety of the Universe was their top priority, above any personal needs. She was starting to wonder, though, if more pressing circumstances were on the horizon, whether the holding together the fabric of time and space was truly their highest priority. Others things were proving more difficult to hold together of late.
As Martha sank deeper into thought, something odd pulled her out of her trance. A pudgy woman, late twenties, with a black felt cap and matching string tie had abruptly sat down across the table where Mickey had just vacated. The woman seemed to be waiting for a sign that she was noticed. Not to be phased or caught off guard, Martha took a strategic bite of her chips and simply stared at her once the woman caught her full eye, as if Martha had simply been surveying the room and had finally given this person her attention. Once the woman's presence had been acknowledged, she did not hesitate to begin.
"Have you seen this being?" the woman inquired. Martha recognized the picture at once. It gave her a bit of a squirm in her abdomen.
"Hi. My name's Leah, by the way. Nice to meet you too, but I'm not interested in making new friends this evening. Merry Christmas all the same though." Martha replied politely, lifting her basket of chips, hoping the woman would simply leave.
"Have you seen this being?" the woman repeated.
"Never," responded Martha. "Good bye," she added with more bite.
"Not laid eyes upon him before this moment? Not one time? In this life or possible past lives then?" the pudgy woman continued to pry. Irritated, but not wanting to show any emotion, Martha gave an answer.
"Not that it's any of your business, but no. Never. And if I may be so incredulous, as you seem prone, your methods for locating individuals are a tad inefficient, aren't they? Big city, small pub, this is." After Martha offered this opinion, the woman stared, in the same hard but blank manner Martha had employed. Martha's years in U.N.I.T. had taught her that the more trained in staring like this a person was, the more annoying their answers would be.
"You're lying"
"About your census strategy or my acquaintances?"
"I'm trying to find the Doctor to offer him something he values dearly. A chance he's never dared dream but is now within his grasp. This would make him happy and bring him peace. If you'd like to deny him this to the Doctor because you were too stubborn and arrogant about your transcendent abilities in being coy, that's fine. Stop talking. But don't lie. It's not honorable. Or nice, for that matter."
Martha considered this. The pudgy woman had used his name twice.
"I don't know where he is, and I've destroyed any methods of contacting him in the indefinite past and future for his own safety. I won't divulge manners of relationships or duration of time spent together. Don't dare be daft enough to ask about any emotional garbage. All I'll tell you is yes, we've met." Martha paused. "And your hat looks smashing. Now, Happy Chanukah, cheers, adios, and for the sake of thoroughness, please leave."
The woman left with. Martha continued to meditate on more important items.
"You're an odd Ood, you know that?" The Doctor had been waiting for years to use that one.
"You have little time left. Your song is ending." Ood Sigma repeated.
"As you've said. About 3 times now. Let me ask you, if you say that phrase again a 4th time, will I buy the farm right here on my floor, or will things be a bit more formal?" The Doctor's patience was beginning to wane. "I've got quite a lump of Sunday reading to do, so if that's all then," he added.
"Begging your pardon, but it is not I who must act, or 'wrap up' as you phrased it. You must ready your affairs to take the next step. You will soon be summoned before the Elder. When you are summoned, it is vital for the safety of many beside yourself that you do not delay," The Ood summarized.
"Well," The Doctor prolonged, his tone becoming more formidable, "In that case, I suppose I'd better write a will. Do I need an executor for my will or shall one be assigned? Unfortunately I've no next of kin, as they've all been blown apart by the Dalek Empire in the Great Time War. I'm afraid my eulogy will be a bit long. I've accomplished a vast many things, you see. Oh, and there may be political ramifications, as I've married into the nobility of a small island kingdom back on planet Earth. You may have heard of a cramped country called Britain, perhaps?" The Doctor's voice became sharper with each word. The blank expression of the Ood leader only made the Gallifrean edgier. "If it's all the same to you, my song will end when the fat lady sings," he ceased.
"Sir, if I may offer, it is worth noting that often, we sentients believe to be fighting other sentients when incensed. In actuality, for the better part of our time in the Universe, we are simply fighting ourselves." He eyed the Doctor.
Turning his head slightly, he added, "Perhaps instead of Geisel, Nietzsche would be preferable. He once said, or considering our current position, will come to say, 'The end of a melody is not its goal: but nonetheless, had the melody not reached its end it would not have reached its goal either. A parable.' Oh, Doctor. The places you will soon go. Do not your allow parable to become a cautionary one."
The skinny girl who'd been arguing with her husband left soon after their conversation. She'd been small help, but had at least admitted to knowing the Doctor. Undoubtedly she'd traveled with him in the past. Or future, depending on when Jane returned to her station on Urej.
If one only searched for people by looking in two, or even three dimensions, finding someone or their acquaintances was a difficult job that involved the need of many tools and tricks. Martha Smith had been on point about that. However, searching in 4 dimensions made things very simple indeed. Luckily, Martha had given Jane only what she required: verification that she was one of the many companions of the Doctor's current face.
Jane saw the girl whom she'd been informed was named Donna Noble sitting at a table with friends. At least according to the descriptions within the code, her profile matched. The table Donna sat at was only 3 away from where Martha and Mickey Smith had been sitting. Inefficient indeed.
Jane went up to Donna. "Excuse me," Jane breathed. Donna was more likely to give information to a kind and sincere person. Martha had a flaw for seeing kindness occasionally as weakness. Donna was just the opposite. She was too nice. And she'd be all too willing to give Jane the information she needed now that she'd had a few drinks. A trained spy Ms. Noble was not. "Have you seen this being? We've been looking for a few weeks now, and we'll have to end our search soon if we don't get any more leads…" Donna did not look at the picture yet.
"You're looking for a being? A being? Tell you what, then, you're being a bit rude right now, interrupting our party." Donna giggled, and then sighed. She gave Jane a second glance and her expression seemed a tad less hard. There was always the kindness hidden underneath the cheek, according to the profile. "Let me see the picture more closely then," Donna waved her hands toward her person. Donna observed. Donna's face went pale. Donna bore the appearance of sobering. Donna stared. She stared some more. Then Donna fainted.
Jane tried to recall what her notes said to do if someone fainted. Jane hoped that after this ordeal was finished, the other working class girl had stronger nerves.