Hello, here's the 2nd chapter! And merry (late) Christmas, everyone! I got Doctor Who Monopoly, which made me very happy. Did you all have a good holiday?
Disclaimer: I, of course, do not own Doctor Who or Sherlock.
The pan sizzled as he slapped down slices of bacon and cracked eggs over it with quick skill. The TV was talking quietly in the background, and he ignored it for the most part, until the word "Noble" reached his ears.
He whipped around, leaving the bacon to burn as he got closer to the telly. There they were. Wilfred and Sylvia Noble, Shaun Temple, and his new bride Donna. They grinned and waved at the camera, looking like quite the picturesque English family.
The voiceover continued, "Donna Noble received the lottery ticket as an anonymous wedding present. A week later, it's numbers were announced and the Nobles became the wealthiest family in Chiswick."
The Doctor smiled and spooned the salvaged eggs into a plate. Still staring at the telly, he burned his tongue as he ate them. The pain drew his attention away from the sadness he was starting to feel.
They cut to an interview with the bride herself. A pang went through the Doctor's stomach as that familiar red hair filled the screen, and his best mate talked into a microphone.
"Well it was just, like, a complete surprise. Can you believe it? I didn't want to keep it at first, thought it was a joke! I still don't know who gave it to us. I'm thinking it was my friend Marcie, although she was always a bit two-faced when it came to…"
Click. The screen went black and the Doctor set the remote down with a sigh.
The drive to work was difficult as usual. He still wasn't quite used to being in a car so often, and the traffic from Manchester to Liverpool was insane in the morning. The music on the radio was all junk; preppy pop stars singing about all-night parties, or depressed rockers on drugs. He tuned into a news channel, and was immediately caught up in listening to police reports.
Robbery…kidnapping….murder. Murder of the American vice president. Unknown killer, unidentifiable weapon.
He clenched the steering wheel. It was probably something he would've stopped. If he wasn't retired. If he didn't have a Physics class to teach. If he didn't have painful memories to avoid.
There was a loud ringing coming from the radio. He knew this meant he had a call waiting for him, but didn't really want to answer it. He was in a funny mood today. But it just kept ringing, and the person didn't give up, so he pressed a button on the steering wheel.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Smith, it's Ms. Bailey."
"Ah. Hello Nora." The Doctor smiled. One of his favorite colleagues, Nora was the astronomy teacher. She knew a lot about stars, but there was so much more she didn't know...and the Doctor wished he could tell her everything.
"Hello John." He could hear the grin in her voice. "I wanted to ask you if you were coming to the Christmas faculty party tonight."
The Doctor hesitated. He had been avoiding the event all week. Whenever the principal came in to ask if he was coming, he hid behind his desk. He didn't want to feel happy during the holidays. He'd met Donna at Christmas. Astrid Peth died on Christmas.
"I...I don't know."
"I wish you would." There was an awkwardness, a nervousness to Nora's voice. The Doctor frowned.
"I'll think about it."
"Okay. Thank you, John. See you in a bit."
"Mhm." He hung up and drove in silence for a while. No news reports. No more listening to crimes he could have prevented.
... ... ... ... ... ... ...
The dismissal bell pierced the air, and students in every classroom cheered, grabbing their backpacks and dashing out the door. One girl, however, remained behind in her favorite class, and walked bravely up to the teacher.
"Happy Christmas, Mr. Smith." She said in her clipped Irish accent.
"Happy Christmas, Faye." Mr. Smith nodded, waving a hand politely.
"I...uh...have a present for you." Faye cleared her throat and placed a small package on The Doctor's desk. He raised an eyebrow, surprised. Then he smiled warmly. "Thank you! Do I, well, should I open it now?"
"If you like." She blushed. Then she quickly left, hollering a final goodbye. The hallways were now empty, and every single classroom was desolate except for its professor, staying to finish grading papers.
The Doctor tore at the blue wrapping paper with curiosity, ripping until he'd reached a small cardboard box. He turned it over in his hand, and a small figurine fell into his palm.
He stared at the miniature stone angel, its hands crossed over its weeping face.