Never thought I'd die in a fire.
.
No, seriously.
.
I thought I might drown, get struck by lightning, or have every atom of my body disassemble.
.
But I never thought I'd die in a fire.
.
Once on Ka'tam, I thought I would die of Anthrax poisoning.
.
Thank goodness for extra-terrestrial antibodies.
.
But for some strange reason, fire never occurred to me.
.
Always thought my life would flash before my eyes too. Instead I just saw smoke, flames, and bright flashing lights. Concussion may have had something to do with that. I also saw
That Man pushing through the fire, as if some cruel fate was gloating over me what I would be losing. It wasn't until I heard him yelling for me that I realized it was actually him. His
great coat was gone, and his dress shirt was wrapped protectively around his arm. His white undershirt was quickly turning gray with smoke, when he finally reached me. Things
were starting to go fuzzy around the edges. I felt a gentle hand examine my head, before I was swept off the floor into his strong arms, and he charged out of the burning corridor.
Next thing I knew I was looking up into his concerned face as he set me down on a table and The Doctor was preparing to look at my head. The Doctor was gonna doctor. That was
funny. Not as funny as 'Harold' the shotgun wielder looking guilty as a renegade slitheen. But still funny. While carrying me through the fire, we had both sustained some injuries. I
had a minor burn on my forearm, and he had been struck by a burning support post on his shoulder. The Doctor doctored (still so funny) as best as he could, and soon I could sit
upright without seeing double. While what I did was regarded as "foolish" ('Harold's words) and "Brilliant!!" (The Doctors) the general consensus was that it had worked. The Doctor
had enough time to safely reverse the temporal shift. Temporal shifts. They're always fun. Back in 1820's Earth some genius created one that connected to Raxacoricofallapatorius in
a diamond mine. All that work, all those diamonds, zero results. On Earth at least. I didn't know how to close or reverse it so, being the nineteenth century, I had to kick it old school.
(That's code for infinitesimal warp bomb.) Only problem was I ended up on Raxacoricofallapatorius during the great civil war, with the temporal shift destroyed behind me. The
mangoes there are delectable. The Doctor scurried around the room, snatching wires and cables from goodness know where, babbling on about… well something. Had I been slightly
more coherent I might have understood him. Instead I leaned back on the table, wincing a bit as I moved my arm, and turned to see a set of baby blue eyes looking concerned at
me. He smiled as he caught my gaze.
"How are you feeling?" I smiled back at him.
"Been better." I shifted a bit to look him full in the face. "Thank you. You know, for saving my life. Sorry about your shoulder."
"You're welcome. And don't worry. Not the first time I've been burned trying to pick someone up."
I couldn't help it, I laughed. We both did. After awhile The Doctor gave us a strange look. It was strange I suppose. Here we were, in a restaurant, on a spaceship, both of us a bit
worse for the wear, and laughing our bloody heads off. I was right. I never thought I'd die in a fire.
.
Of course, I never thought that this would be the day I'd die.