As I am a professional writer and have work to do to get paid, I have decided to deal with these thudding plot bunnies in the traditional manner - I will inflict them on others. Please see my Profile for the Challenges of the Month. July Challenges are now available, and what a twist for one of them. If you'd rather do June's, instead, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks to all those who have participated thus far - we had an exceptional turn out for June II for example. The new challenges will run through the end of July. Please let me know when you respond to a Challenge so I can read and review.

Lady Clark Weasley asked me to do this one and, although I normally hesitate to rewrite episodes, I agreed because of the challenge of it. Let me just state, very clearly: ASTRID IS NOT HERE. Her entire story line has been erased from this history. She decides to try it once, months later, meets a rich man who acquired some manners from some where, gets married and lives happily ever after. There will be no dead or even sort of dead pretty waitresses, except the ones who would have died anyway. Thank you.

It looks like it will be in four parts (the subplot is taking more space than I thought), and all the action isn't going to be shown because I've narrowed the point of view down to what you don't know.


The Voyage of Alternatives

Part II: The Doctor Takes Charge

When the Titanic finally settled from the brutal impacts and repeated shocks, the Doctor discovered, though he wasn't particularly surprised, that he had Rose clutched tight to his chest. His arms were around her, her small body quaking against him. He touched her gently, verifying with his hands and his eyes that she was all right.

"Oi," she protested, shifting out of his grip, "I'm fine. Can you stand? Is everyone all right?"

He stood and lifted her up, setting her daintily on her feet, still going over her to make sure she wasn't bleeding. He turned to look around and spotted the other officer who had helped the Steward bring him down here, lying under a pile of rubble. He bent quickly, checked for a pulse. There wasn't one. The Steward was watching him and they both seemed to be old hands at calm in disasters after all, for the man took his point immediately when he shook his head. The Steward turned to quiet the screaming crowd while the Doctor looked around for the nearest, safest exit to the TARDIS.

"What was his name?" Rose asked, and checked the officer's name tag. The Doctor nodded at her silently as he filed the name. She shook her head sadly and looked at the body. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Then, they both noticed that Mr. Copper seemed to be having trouble. Rose ran to the old man. "Doctor?" she asked.

The Doctor knelt and ran the sonic screwdriver over him, determined that this man would not survive the disaster only to die of a heart attack moments later. He wasn't paying attention, he should have been, but the Steward was backing toward the nearest connecting door. It should have taken him to another section of the interior hull but, unfortunately, that section of the ship had been blasted away and the safeties had been disengaged. The Doctor shouted protest, but too late, as the door opened and then was ripped off, dragged into space, the Steward with it.

"Hold on!" he shouted, as the cabin tried to empty itself into the bitter cold of endless space. He flung himself onto the control panel, clinging somewhat better than the humans could, because of his Time Lord strength. The sonic screwdriver activated the oxygen membrane and the wind died, the cold held at bay with it.

"Everyone all right? Rose?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Foon, Morvin?" a gasp and a wave from her, along with a nod from her husband. "Mr. Copper?" a quick nod. "Bannakaffalatta?" The cyborg, who had nearly joined the Steward, nodded and clutched to his little chest. "And you, what was your name?"

The man in the antique suit, who had insulted Rose earlier, nodded, straightening his tie. "Rickston Slade."

"You all right?" the Doctor asked.

"No thanks to that idiot," Slade replied.

"That man was just killed!" Rose protested.

"Then he's a dead idiot," Slade countered.

Rose's dark eyes caught fire. There was his girl. The Doctor almost managed a smile. "Oi!" Rose started.

"Not now, Rose. Just... not now." He looked out the oxygen shield and Rose joined him.

"How... how did this happen?" she asked.

"I don't think it was an accident," he replied. They stood in silence for a moment and then he felt her hand creep toward his. He took it without even a thought. This was how it was supposed to be. "I'll get you out of here, Rose, I promise."

"Don't worry about me, Doctor," she said. "Let's just... we need to help everyone we can, yeah? Any ideas?"

"Well, if we can get to reception, the TARDIS is..." He looked out through the shield. "The TARDIS is heading for Earth," he said, bitterly.

"The TARDIS?" she whispered, peering out at his precious blue box.

"You remember her?" the Doctor demanded.

"I... it's funny. I used to dream... I called the magic box in my dreams the TARDIS. It was..."

"Bigger on the inside?" the Doctor suggested.

"Yeah," she whispered. Then her eyes narrowed and she glared at him in suspicion. "How'd you know? Are you one of that lot? Have you been following me?"

"Rose, I don't know what's going on with you, but I'm your friend, your best friend. You can trust me, and I think deep down you know that!"

She looked deep into his eyes, the way she had that first day they stood, face to brand new face, him still in his old clothes, Rose half out of her mind with worry and fear and grief. He hadn't known what she was searching for then, and he didn't know what she saw now, but whatever it was, after a moment, she asked him, nervously, "What's my favorite color?"

He let out a startled chuff of exasperation. Not many people knew this was a trick question, because anyone would say pink without thinking. He knew better. "It's red," he said. "Used to be red, anyway, because it makes you feel special, when you wear red. And there was a bicycle, that was red. You used to ride it everywhere, hoping some day you could ride it straight to the stars." His eyes dropped to her sequined dress. "Is it blue now, then? After the little blue box you dream about?"

She shook her head and leaned into him. "You had it right the first time," she admitted.

"Yeah," he said, "I know."

"What are we going to do, Doctor?" she asked.

"Same thing we do every time, Rose Tyler. Try to save the world." He turned back to the crowd, feeling about a million times more hopeful.

He sent Rose to check on Mr. Copper, to try to get the old man to his feet. Meanwhile, he called the bridge. There was an answer almost immediately and the Doctor felt like rejoicing. Someone was alive, they had a chance.

Or maybe not, because the engines were dying. The Doctor knew that something had to be done, immediately. He wasn't losing these people and he wasn't, absolutely was not losing Rose. He gave the injured Midshipman Frame an order, and he knew the boy would take it. These people were scared, terrified, really, and terrified people usually listened when someone who knew what they were doing gave orders.

Or they panicked. "We're going to die," Foon exclaimed, and everyone else started talking around her.

The Doctor held his hands up for quiet. "Now, just first things first. One. We are gonna climb through this ship. B." Rose shot him a look and he realized. "No, Two. We are gonna reach the bridge. Three, or C, we are gonna save the Titanic. And, coming in a very low four, or D or that little iv in brackets that they use in footnotes, I am going to find out what happened to Rose." He nodded and took a deep breath, turning. "Right then, follow me."

Rose followed without hesitation, he could hear her little shoes clicking on the deck. That was something else out of place; she used to know you needed a good set of trainers to run for your life properly.

Of course, there was always that one. Slade stopped him with a sharp, "Hang on a minute. Who put you in charge? Just who the hell are you, anyway?"

He looked at Rose, half-way between him and the huddled group, looked at Slade, the haughty bastard who had no concern for anyone but himself, even now, looked at the scared and trembling rest of the group. Rose nodded encouragement at him and he walked back, taking her hand. He let go of his shields, the things that usually made him pass for human, let the weight of eons burn from his eyes. "I'm the Doctor," he announced firmly. "I'm a Time Lord. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the Constellation of Kasterborus. I am 903 years old, and I'm the man who's going to save your lives and all six billion people on the planet below." He gave Rose a look as she stared up at him in awe and wonder. He missed the pride, but he was grateful there was no trace of the fear he'd seen the first time she saw him like this. He looked back at Slade. "You got a problem with that?" he demanded, feeling a bit like he was channelling Nine.

"No," said Slade, looking completely taken aback.

"In that case," said the Doctor, "allon-sy."


"We used to travel together," the Doctor said as the group walked hesitantly along the darkened back corridors.

Rose didn't know what to think. How come she was so important to this ancient man with star-fire eyes, from a world that no one knew? And why, when he said the name of that world, did she feel a deep, aching sadness? It was gone, that world, she realized, the world with silver trees and orange skies... "I... Gallifrey. It's..."

"Yes," he said shortly, cutting her off.

"Oh, right." She paused. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I really didn't remember!"

He nodded briefly, then brushed it aside. "Rose, I need you to tell me. What's the first thing you do remember?"

"I was... lost," she said. "Trapped. Somewhere I didn't belong. Then, I woke up in hospital, back on Sto. They said I'd been there for years, since I was young."

"You're still young," the Doctor said, sounding very surprised.

"Well, I mean, since I was a little girl. It took them such a long time to find out what was wrong with me and fix me."

"This isn't right," the Doctor argued. "You were born on Earth." He whipped out the whirring thing, scanned it over her. "Yep, full-blooded, Earth-born human, with slight traces of temporal radiation in her system." He popped on a pair of those funny three-d glasses, too, and glanced at her, then whipped them back into a pocket. "Traces of Void stuff. You're Rose Tyler. You're the daughter of Pete and Jackie Tyler. Jackie would kill me if she knew you were here." He actually shivered at this pronouncement, as if he expected a slap to miraculously appear from somewhere. "How'd you escape her, anyway? Never mind crossing Universes, that's only impossible, how did you ever get away from that woman?"

Rose grinned at him. He was obviously trying to cheer her, get her to smile a little, because he grinned back at her. "Did you know my parents well?" she asked. "I... I can't even remember them."

"Your dad, not so much, but he was a hero. He saved my life and yours and a whole planet, in fact. Your mum... first time I met her, I'd known her too long in my opinion, and you would keep dragging us back to see her."

"And you went? Nine hundred years old and Time Lord and all that stuff? And you just let me drag you to see a woman you didn't like?"

He blinked at her and shrugged, his eyes saying a lot more than he ever did, but she wasn't competent to read them, not really. She didn't know him very well, even if he was obviously right, because things kept coming back to her.

He was really very nice to look at, she thought, with his youthful smile, slightly nervous handling of her, and the way his hair stuck up all over the place. "When you say we... traveled together..." She just wondered. He was beautiful and she was... well, she was young and healthy, even if they weren't the same species. Maybe?

She knew, somehow, even in the dim and blinking light of these winding back corridors, that he was blushing. "No. I mean... well... no. It just...um..." He dashed his hands through his hair and looked wildly around.

Rose didn't know how she knew that a distraction would miraculously appear, but she wasn't the slightest bit surprised when he found the door he wanted. He scanned it to make sure there was air on the other side. "It's... a screwdriver," Rose said. "And it's... sonic. Right?"

"Yep," he said.

Rose shook her head. "Who looks at a screwdriver and says 'Ooh, this could be a little more sonic?'"

"I do," he answered, with haughty, positively adorable dignity. "And I'll thank you to stop quoting your old boyfriends at me. Careful," he added, as he forced the door. "Through here."