I decided to continue with this anyway, mainly to see if I can actually reach the end. I am attempting to write it in what I call 'book length' chapters, which means this could take me a while, since I need about 2200+ words a shot. I warn anyone who reads this in advance that I am doing my A2's this year and as such may have a huge gap in writing in May/June. But after that I get a long summer, so it evens out in the end. Thanks to Kitty for the review, it gave me the guts to try make a real go of this, and I hope you enjoy this. By the way, if anyone can think of a decent title for this, suggestions would be much appreciated.
Sitting on the battered pilot's chair, Rose wrapped both her cold hands round the mug of hot chocolate and suppressed a shiver in case she spilled it. She heard a door being kicked open somewhere in the labyrinthine corridors of the TARDIS and surmised that the Doctor had found the stuff he was looking for. Smiling at the memory of the snowball fight and the Doctor's thorough trouncing on that score, she sipped at the warming drink and thought about home. Specifically, about the time when it had snowed once at New Year. She'd only been young, still in primary school, off for the Christmas holidays.
She'd begged her mum to let her stay up until midnight and had tried to stay awake anyway, even after she'd been sent to bed. She remembered sitting cocooned in her duvet and watching the snowflakes falling outside her window, the settled snow looking orangey-yellow in the glow from the street lights. Even the colourful bloom of premature fireworks hadn't looked as pretty as seeing the estate covered in a slowly thickening blanket of snow. Jackie had woken her up next morning, telling her it was snowing and everywhere was covered in snow. It had snowed on and off all day. She'd gone out, wearing more layers of clothes than she'd ever worn before, and played in the snow with Mickey for hours. Within half an hour they'd built a snowman outside Mickey's front door, complete with a carrot for a nose. Then they'd built a ramp by filling in the tread of some steps and sledged down it on a plastic tea-tray. When that got boring they'd taken it in turns to push each other along on their impromptu sledge until they reached the park, where a giant snowball fight was taking place. The tray had become an invaluable shield for the pair of them until everyone was too tired to throw snow anymore and they'd gone home. Her mum had clucked and fussed over them like a hen, making them change out of their snow-covered clothes and giving them hot cocoa to drink. Rose knew now they'd been lucky it was New Year; the only reason the snow was still unsullied by the time the children woke up was because everyone else was still in bed with a hangover.
The Doctor crashed into the control room, interrupting her reverie and bumping into everything it was possible to bump into, including the pilot's chair. Acting fast, Rose saved her hot chocolate and darted forward to rescue the mug of tea balanced on the rim of the console. The Doctor, in the mean time, deposited his load on the recently vacated seat and began to sort it out into individual items. As a bemused Rose watched, the pile resolved itself into a pale blue jacket, a pair of warm looking boots, a ski glove, the pair of sodden trainers the Doctor had previously been wearing and a very long multicoloured scarf that was intertwined with a significantly shorter woollen green and white striped one. Happy with his work, the Doctor turned to her and grinned. Rose sipped at her hot chocolate, trying to decide whether the scuffed and creased riding boots he was now wearing instead of his usual trainers looked silly or not. The Doctor stepped over and relieved her of the second mug, taking a swig of the steaming tea. He waved vaguely at the separated pile, the tea threatening to slop out of the mug at any second.
"There," he beamed. "Nice warm jacket for you, should keep Jackie off my back. Brought you some better footwear too." He brandished his mug at the boots before downing half of the contents in one go. "Where'd the other glove go? I hope it's in here somewhere and not in the corridor or it'll take months to find, the old girl's rearranged them again. I did apologise for kicking open that door, but you women, you don't half hold a grudge," he mumbled to no-one in particular. He spotted the missing article under the chair and picked it up, placing it with its partner on the seat. Rose blew on her drink to cool it then finished it off and put the mug on the nearest bit of free space on the console. The Doctor had balanced his half-empty mug in-between the controls and was unlacing one of his wet trainers. Pulling the tongue of the shoe out as far as it would go, he crouched down and felt around for a hot component before wedging it in the central column to dry. As Rose shrugged on the coat, unsurprised to find it fitted her quite well, the Doctor proceeded to do the same with the other shoe before donning the long multicoloured scarf. He was ready. He watched as Rose pulled on the new boots and tucked her discarded shoes tidily under the pilot's chair. She stuffed the gloves into her pockets and picked up the remaining scarf.
"Where'd you get that from?" she enquired, nodding at his scarf.
"It's a long story," he replied, swinging one dirty end round.
"Oh ha ha, very funny," Rose said, deadpan, but still smiling at his rubbish joke.
"Actually, it was a gift. And that one," he explained, gesturing at the green and white one Rose was holding, "I stole from a snowman in Oxford, when I needed a disguise. I didn't think he'd mind, only I was being chased by some rather nasty Shaaratzi cultists who were hiding in the university doing 'research'."
Interested, Rose leaned against the pilot's chair and asked, "What were they really doing then?"
"Oh, planning on converting Britain to their religion using mass brainwashing. I hid in a cupboard all day waiting for them all to leave the lab. Then I, er, relieved them of a rather vital part of their machine," he told her, "One of them came back in and I had to make a break for it out the window." He finished, rather sheepishly. Brightening, he drank the rest of his now lukewarm tea in one gulp, ditched the mug back to its place nestled in among the piecemeal controls and took a quick look at the scanner screen. "Shall we go explore then?"
As he bounded down the ramp ahead of her she realised why the scarf ends were so dirty; he kept stepping on the trailing ends.
"Hang on, aren't you going to wear a coat?" she called, pausing halfway to the door.
"Nah," came the nonchalant response. "It's only minus three out there. Positively balmy. Don't worry, I've got a T-shirt and a shirt on. You're getting as bad as your mother." And with that he threw open the door and fell out, ever eager to see what was on the other side. Sighing at the last remark, she followed him out, shutting the door behind her. It never ceased to amaze Rose that someone so obviously well travelled could be ceaselessly amazed by whatever he happened to find outside his own front door. Granted, she reasoned, his front door did move, but still, the excitement never seemed to abate.
He stared around, eyes soaking up every detail of their surroundings, while he waited for her to catch up. He let his gaze follow the trail of footprints they'd left, showing their route up the slope from where the TARDIS stood to the ridge and then along to the top of the valley where he stood now. Behind him the land flattened out into a plateau, the meeting place of several of the rolling hills. Below in the valley there was a wood, the trees seeming to huddle together for warmth, their branches bare and stark against the white hills around them. The sky was a brilliant clean blue and a few clouds as white as the snow hung in its vast canopy. Rose, a little out of breath after the brisk walk, moved up to stand beside him. A whisper of a wind tickled her face and she flicked her hair out of her eyes. Turning, she surveyed the land all around them. It was beautiful, she thought, all clean and white, pristine mountains standing tall in the distance across the flatland behind them. Something glinted in the weak sunlight, catching her eye. Not taking her eyes from the foreign object, she reached out and tugged on the Doctor's sleeve.
"What's that?" she queried, pointing at the rapidly approaching thing. The Doctor bent down to look along her arm. He didn't get time to answer.
Whumph! A distinctly non-snow-made missile thumped into the ground a little to their left, showering the pair with shards of ice and lumps of soil. The thing moved closer, closing the gap quickly. Grabbing Rose's hand, the Doctor pulled her round and set off down the slope into the valley. Careering down the incline at breakneck pace, feet sinking into the snow with every step, Rose struggled gamely to keep her feet. This was nothing compared to staying upright during a particularly bad TARDIS journey. Snow plumed into the air as another shot missed by inches. Her blood was roaring in her ears and she could feel the Doctor's hand in hers, tugging this way and that as he raced with her down towards the cover of the trees. They sprinted into the wood and stopped, risking a glance back up the hill to see their pursuer charging down after them. The fugitive pair looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them in a split second. Simultaneously they tore off deeper into the wood.
He pushed Rose ahead of him as the trees got closer together the further in they went. Instinctively, she followed what seemed to be an animal path, knowing that the last thing they needed was for her to lead them into a dead end. The leafless trees seemed to help them, forming a twisting tunnel through which they ran full tilt, last season's dead brambles catching at their clothes. The Doctor chanced a quick look over his shoulder; he couldn't see anything but the almighty crashing that pursued them spurred him on. Looking ahead again, he could see Rose was tiring. Even in the wood the snow was thick on the ground, making it harder to run. His own breath, frosting in a white cloud with each exhalation, was becoming more ragged and snatched. Half turning, he slowed a little, casting around for anything he could use to slow down the machine that followed them but the ground appeared utterly bereft of useful branches. A horrendous ripping sound made him look back. Frighteningly nearby a tree toppled, its roots snapping and creaking as it fell. Twigs rained down on the mechanical monster that stepped over the trunk. He ran, knowing it was no use as the ground thundered with the machine's heavy footsteps.
She suddenly became aware of the fact that the Doctor was no longer behind her. Desperate, she stumbled into a clearing and stopped, turning to look back the way she had come. She could hear the measured thud of its footfalls, hear it battering its way through the undergrowth in pursuit of the Doctor. Gulping down the cold air, terrified to the core and yet determined to give their chaser a run for its money, she waited for the Doctor to catch her up.
He could feel it gaining on him as he leapt over fallen branches and dodged thorns. He hoped Rose had hidden somewhere safe. He considered what was following him. His mind ran in different directions, the different thought processes interweaving and separating at the same time. If it was a machine, if he could get close enough to touch it, then, perhaps, he could fry its electrics. It wasn't much of a plan, but it would have to do. He burst into a small clearing. Rose!
"Rose, go! Run!" he yelled as he concealed himself behind a wide tree trunk, reaching inside his jacket for his screwdriver. She hesitated, confused by his actions. "Run!" he repeated and waved her on. She looked back at him before breaking into a jog for the other side of the clearing. The snow beside Rose exploded, throwing her to the ground, as the hunter rushed after her. Without wasting time to consider whether it was a good idea or not, the Doctor darted forward and jumped onto its back. Instantly it spun around wildly in an attempt to dislodge its unwanted passenger. The Doctor hung on grimly, long legs wrapped tightly around the torso of the android, one arm clinging onto its shoulder, scarf ends flying. He flicked the sonic screwdriver on and stabbed it into the gap between the back plates of the automaton. He wasn't prepared for the violent spasm that gripped the machine; he was thrown clear as the robot jerked and shook before collapsing into the snow where it twitched a few times and was still.
"Doctor!" cried Rose, hurrying over to him. "Are you ok?" He groaned in answer and picked himself up, rubbing his temples to ward off an impending headache that he supposed had come from cracking his head on the hard ground. They walked cautiously over to the downed machine and the Doctor removed the screwdriver from its back, tucking it safely back into his pocket.
"Are you alright?" he asked Rose. She grinned weakly at him and he enveloped her in a hug.
"Sorry to break up the moment, but who're you?" demanded a strange voice. The Doctor released Rose and turned to face the newcomer. They both raised their hands at the same time.