Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2 and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Fires of Pompeii and Planet of the Ood.

New Moon

Chapter 4: Future

The Doctor, Donna, and Sam left the TARDIS and emerged in a small, empty room, opened the door, turned two corners, and found themselves in a hallway crowded with aliens.

"Where are we?" Donna asked, looking about with interest.

"Farfield Hub," the Doctor replied.

Sam, who'd been actively preventing herself from staring at the passersby by reading the nearby signage, snapped immediately back to attention. "Where?" she asked, sharply.

"Yep, named after you," the Doctor replied, leading the way into the crowd.

"Er," Sam stuttered, caught off guard. "This is an airport," she finally concluded.

"A spaceport," the Doctor corrected.

"What year is this?" Sam asked.

"Earth years?" the Doctor replied. "12261."

"I'm ten thousand years in the future and people are naming places after me," Sam breathed, rolling up her sleeve.

"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked, watching her.

"Making sure I'm not asleep," Sam replied, taking a bit of skin and pinching hard.

"Well?" the Doctor asked.

"Not dreaming," Sam said, eyes watering.

"Back to that, are we?" the Doctor asked.

"Never quite left it," Sam admitted, "and the situation did just reach a ten on the ridiculous meter."

"That's me," the Doctor replied, "always happy to provide the ridiculous. And here we are," he added, "one of my favorite shops in the whole universe."

He led the way into a peaceful looking café which bordered a busy walkway on one side and a wide window overlooking the coming and going ships and a large blue planet on the other. They ordered coffee and sandwiches from the cheerful proprietor who apparently owed the Doctor a large debt from years past and refused to accept any kind of compensation from him or his friends, which was fortunate because they had none to offer.

They found a table in sight of the walkway and the window and sat down.

"That's not Earth, is it," Sam observed of the planet below them.

"The fourth planet of Vega," the Doctor confirmed. "The first extra solar planet humankind ever finds, and it turned out to be inhabited. Who'd of thought?"

"So much for the rare Earth hypothesis," Sam agreed. "Is that who made this hub, then? The, um…"

"Dloxifan," the Doctor supplied. "Yes, along with humans and a coalition of other races."

"Are there many Dloxifan here now?" Donna asked. "Could you point one out?"

"Sure," the Doctor replied, turning to the walkway.

They passed the entire meal this way, Donna and Sam pointing out members of unfamiliar races and the Doctor regaling them with planetary origins, customs, and sometimes even anecdotes about his own adventures with the species.

"And what about that one?" Sam asked. "With the purple skin and the tentacles?"

"I don't know," the Doctor replied, looking flabbergasted. "I honestly don't. I've never seen that species before in my life.

A contented silence filled the next few moments. Sam turned to the window in time to watch as a ship docked, and began to muse aloud.

"Have you ever gone for a drive at night?" she asked, and continued before anyone could respond to the odd question. "And I don't mean just around town, I mean a long drive, with freeways and such. Do you ever go for a drive at night and look outside and think, 'I wonder if this is what it's like?' To travel in space, I mean. And I know it's not the same, because, you know, there's more gravity and shorter distances and mile markers and all, but I think it might be kind of the same too. Because it's just you and the car and whatever you can see with the headlights, which isn't much. Even the plants along the road are mostly shadows. So there you are, traveling along, and you know there are things beyond the road, amazing things, but you can't see them, it's like they're so far away that they might as well not exist. It's just you and the road and the stars and whatever company you've got, and sometimes the occasional spark in the distance, and when you get closer, it turns into civilization."

"You live in the wrong era," the Doctor said when she was finished.

"Sometimes I think so," Sam replied, taking a sip of her coffee.

"How can one person be too early and too late all at once?" the Doctor wondered.

"Happens all the time, I imagine," Sam said.

"What were you going to do when you got back to Earth," Donna asked.

Sam's expression, already blank, became very fixed. She took a deep drink of her coffee, clearly stalling for time. The Doctor, meanwhile, looked like he dearly wanted to shush Donna and change the subject, but managed to restrain himself.

"Doesn't really matter anymore," Sam replied finally.

"Sure it does," Donna cajoled. "And you must have thought about it, you think about everything."

"Well…I kind of…" Sam stuttered with an embarrassed smile, "I figure I've seen the whole world from far away. I thought I might travel around some, take a closer look."

"Sorry you won't get to," Donna said genuinely.

"I always knew this was a possibility," Sam replied. "I shouldn't have put it off."

"You shouldn't start regretting things," the Doctor interjected immediately.

"Is that a hint?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"It's a fact," the Doctor replied. "People will look back on your life and call it amazing."

"People tend to speak kindly of the dead," Sam pointed out.

"They will reach that conclusion by reading your journal," the Doctor clarified. "And I might as well say, it is one of the most inspirational, uplifting things I've ever read."

Sam paused to think then said, "I haven't been keeping a journal."

"Haven't you?" the Doctor asked carefully.

"Until now," Sam concluded.

"There's an interesting paradox," the Doctor said thoughtfully, running a hand through his hair.

"That's what brought you here," Sam intuited.

"Indirectly," the Doctor admitted.

"Weird," Sam said.

"Yep," the Doctor agreed. "It happens sometimes, but this one is bigger than usual. Much bigger." He ran his hand through his hair again.

"Care to elaborate," Donna prompted when the Doctor fell silent.

"I've been meaning to ask," the Doctor continued, turning to Sam and ignoring Donna's question. "For an early 21st century explorer who had two visitors show up unannounced in her lunar outpost, you didn't seem quite as surprised as one might expect."

"Don't be fooled," Sam replied. "I was pretty surprised."

"Still," the Doctor prompted.

"Honestly," Sam admitted, "I had a bit of warning."

"Warning?" the Doctor asked, looking confused.

"Yeah," Sam explained. "Just before I went into quarantine, I got a call from a man. He said he knew someone who had a habit of turning up for things like this. He wouldn't explain who the person was or what he looked like; just that he travels around in a big blue police box. He basically said I should ask questions first."

"You don't say," the Doctor replied, sounding unsurprised.

"Not quite sure what he thought I might shoot you with," Sam mused. "I don't even have a stapler. Anyway, it might've saved us some trouble if he'd taken a second to explain how you show up."

"This person didn't mention his name, did he?" the Doctor asked.

"He called himself Captain Jack-" Sam began.

"-Harkness," the Doctor finished. "Go figure."

"You know him?" Sam asked.

"Thought I did," the Doctor replied. "Anyway, obviously he knows me."

"Actually," Sam added, "if you happen to see him again, I probably owe him an apology, turns out."

"I'm sure he doesn't need it," the Doctor said, "but what for?"

"Well, the thing is, it was a few days before launch and all my calls were being screened, even my parents couldn't call me without a password. I never did figure out how Captain Harkness got through, but there he was, some random guy telling me that I might get a visit from someone with a big blue box while I was on the moon," Sam explained. "I thought it was a prank."

"Oh, I'm sure that was devastating for him," the Doctor said, grinning.

"That and I might have set the FBI on him," Sam added.

"The FBI?" the Doctor laughed. "That's brilliant! Now there's something I'd like to see: Captain Jack Harkness versus the FBI. He'd win too, you know. In fact, next time I'm in the era, I ought to pass your apology on to the Bureau."

"Really?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Sure," the Doctor replied. "You'd be hard pressed to find a more resourceful character. He'll probably have them end up investigating their own mothers."

"In that case, could you give him my thanks?" Sam said.

"I'll be sure to," the Doctor said.

"What about this place, then?" Donna asked, deciding a change in subject was in order and taking it upon herself to pick one that she could understand.

"What about it?" the Doctor replied, looking unusually open to questions in that vein.

"How long's it been here? What's it for?" Donna said. "How did it get named after Sam?"

"Ah! Well," the Doctor began, "it's been here about 300 years. They built this place to last, see. As for what it's for, Sam had it right, it's an airport, only for spaceships. And how it got named after Sam? That's actually an interesting story. You see, when humans and Dloxifan first met, they had huge trouble communicating. The Dloxifan language is very complex, so complex, in fact, that they couldn't comprehend English because it's so simple."

"English, simple," Donna scoffed and Sam nodded in agreement.

"The point is," the Doctor continued, "they couldn't understand each other. After another unsuccessful round of introductions, the two delegations took corners to try and figure out what to do next. The humans were beginning to think that they'd have to do things the old fashioned way, you know, start with nouns and work their way up, but then one of the human delegates overheard one of the Dloxifan saying a human word: Farfield. Turns out Earth's been visited by more space travelers than anyone's ever realized, and at least one of them must have heard Sam's story and decided it was worth retelling, because it reached the Dloxifan long before humans ever did. And that was what the Dloxifan were discussing: if the legendary Samantha Farfield was part of the same species that was standing across the room. With your story as common knowledge, they were quickly able to establish a dialog and then a friendship. When they built this hub, they named it Farfield in honor of that meeting and the person who made it possible."

Finished, the Doctor turned to Sam expectantly, but she was staring determinedly at her empty coffee cup, not seeming at all inclined to respond.

"This is the part where you make some witty quip," the Doctor prompted. "Something along the lines of, 'No pressure, then,' but preferably more original."

"It's been that part for awhile now," Sam sighed. "I've been restraining myself."

"Humor us," Donna said in sympathy and desperation.

"Are there many other hubs like this?" Sam asked.

"Sure," the Doctor replied. "Scattered all over the galaxy."

"Are many of the others named after Earth explorer?" Sam pressed.

"There's Magellan, near Alpha Centauri, and Armstrong, which is actually in the Andromeda galaxy," the Doctor said, "and several others. But why do you ask?"

"I just wanted to make sure that I'm not the only one who got remembered like this," Sam replied. "I sure don't deserve it. I mean, I never would have gotten anywhere near the moon if it weren't for thousands of engineers and physicists and support crew whose names probably rarely see the light of day."

"Don't sell yourself short," the Doctor began.

"It's just not fair," Sam interrupted. "Some of those engineers have been working out how to build outposts since I was in elementary school. The MOCR crew is there twenty-four hours a day, keeping an eye on the systems that I can't. All of them have put their lives on hold to make this thing go, and when I die they'll be the ones who make sure things get back on track, but no one will remember them for it. Instead, I'm the legend, the one who screws up."

"You don't screw up," the Doctor responded immediately.

"I come back dead," Sam countered. "This obviously isn't a rousing success."

"You'd be surprised," the Doctor attempted.

"And I gave them all the credit they deserve in my journal," Sam blundered on, "or I will give it to them, or whatever, but they'll still just fade away, even though they deserve the fame so much more than I do."

"You're the one who took the risk," Donna pointed out.

"We all took the risk," Sam replied. "I was just the one to do it with my life."

"Exactly," Donna said.

"Well," Sam hesitated, caught, "the others still shouldn't be forgotten."

"We're ten thousand years in the future," Donna reminded her.

"Well, what about Marley?" Sam asked, turning to the Doctor.

"That's who you were speaking with on the radio earlier?" Donna asked.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "His real name is Greg Jacobson, but he usually goes by Marley, his Navy call sign. He was my backup. Actually, if the numbers hadn't come down the way they did he would have been up in the outpost with me. Anyway, as it is, he's been CAPCOM, that's capsule communicator. Point is, he's probably going to fly, does anyone remember him?"

"They did for awhile," the Doctor replied. "A long while, actually."

"Did they forget because he wasn't first?" Sam asked, "Because technically I wasn't either."

"Because he downplayed his accomplishments," the Doctor corrected. "He would never explain why, but the theory is that he wanted you to be remembered over him."

"What would he go and do that for?" Sam exclaimed. "If he makes it back and I don't, then he's the one who should be remembered."

"Obviously he disagrees," the Doctor replied.

"Here's a question for you," Donna said. "Hell, it's for both of you. What do you have against normal lives?"

"What," Sam replied. "Normal as in, get married, buy a house-"

"-white picket fence-" the Doctor continued.

"-two and a half kids-"

"-and a dog?"

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a dog," Sam added.

"Yeah, dogs are alright," the Doctor agreed.

"Focus!" Donna exclaimed. "Yes, that kind of normal, what's the matter with it?"

"Nothing, I guess," Sam replied. "It's just not for me."

"Seems to work for most people," Donna muttered.

"I already told you, I wouldn't be here if I had any of that, and apparently it's important that I'm here. Also, Marley is just a colleague," Sam added, not missing how the two topics had become connected in Donna's mind.

"Seems like you're not to him," Donna replied.

Sam hesitated, caught off guard then stuttered, "You probably ought to meet him before you go making guesses like that. Marley's a friend."

"He wrote your last journal entry," the Doctor said quietly. Donna and Sam spun to face him so quickly that they managed to catch the last moment of the Doctor's battle over whether or not to divulge that information.

"He did?" Sam breathed.

"All finished?" the Doctor asked, ignoring the question. "Shall we move on?"

"Now hold on," Donna exclaimed, defiantly remaining seated. "You can't leave her hanging like that!"

"It's alright," Sam protested. "I'm sure we've already flaunted the Temporal Prime Directive enough."

"The what?" Donna asked, sidetracked. The Doctor, meanwhile, snorted quietly, trying to contain a laugh.

"Never mind," Sam muttered, looking at the Doctor in appreciation.

"Well, it's alright for you," Donna continued. "I'll have to wait around ten years to find out why."

"This isn't some soap opera," Sam reminded her.

"No, it's better," Donna replied, "and you'll find out soon enough."

"Will I?" Sam asked pointedly. "there aren't many reasons why I wouldn't write the last entry in my own journal."

"Oh," Donna breathed, catching on. "I'm sorry." She stood up to go.

"Ask the Doctor when you've left, if you must," Sam said, "but leave me my last surprises."

Thoroughly abashed, Donna remained silent during their walk back to the TARDIS, but the Doctor and Sam returned to their previous conversation about the various aliens around them.

"So this is the future," Sam said when they reached the TARDIS.

"This is the future," the Doctor confirmed, pulling open the door and stepping inside. "Well, part of it," he appended. "It's a bit like the past, really, only bigger. You've got your ups and downs, good ideas and bad ones. And you never stop being curious, poking your noses into every nook and cranny you can reach. And sometime you'd get lazy and forget what the point was, but eventually someone comes along to remind everyone. You, Sam, are one of those people, by the way. And in the end humanity becomes one of the greatest civilizations in modern times, the universe's apology for the fate of the Time Lords."

The Doctor pointedly turned his attention to the console, so Sam leaned over to Donna and whispered, "What happened to the Time Lords?"

"They were destroyed in a war," Donna replied, eyes glistening.

"How about one last trip, then," the Doctor suggested after a few moments. "I think there's another thing you'd like to see."

"Alright," Sam replied.

"But you'll need to wear this," the Doctor said, pulling something out of his pocket and handing it over. It was a small key on a long string.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"A TARDIS key," the Doctor explained, and Donna gasped and pulled an indignant look. "But more importantly, it's a perception filter. It will make it difficult for people to notice you. Just try not to bump into anyone; it tends to lead to awkward questions."

"Why don't you two need them?" Sam asked.

"Because you're the one who's not supposed to be there," the Doctor said, then added, "Donna, go find something nice to wear, nothing white."

"Where are we going?" Sam demanded. "Doctor, where are we going?"

Instead of replying, the Doctor pressed the final button and the TARDIS jolted beneath them.