Discalimer: Still not mine.
A/N: And the final, brief chapter. An epilogue, if you will. Hope it settles everything. Thanks to Gamine Madcap for the review of the previous chapter.
……
Even the Doctor (grudgingly) admitted that his latest bout of improvising in an attempt to save a planet hadn't involved any of his greatest ideas. In fact, he'd made a bit of a mess. Luckily, it worked out for him in the end.
The Skraarkan guards had abandoned the underground cavern of the Priskeet as ordered by Pliam, as it was the only way nobody was going to get hurt. Only Pliam and the Doctor (the latter having sent Donna back to the TARDIS for so much needed sleep) remained, waiting to seek counsel with a representative of the Priskeet. They were later joined by Knet, who had just been chosen as the next king of Skraark.
It turned out, as Knet explained to the Doctor, that Knet was actually Queen Ruza's great-great grandson and held the strongest claim to the throne, his other rivals having already died. His policy of a return to the Skraark of old, without violence and only peace went down well with the people. He told the Doctor he would leave the shattered Palace and the bombed prison as a reminder of hard times, leaving them to fall slowly to ruin. The weapons factories would continue business, but in the trade medical machinery and ambulance ships for warring planets, so the Skraarkans continued to profit but were helping in some way. Knet had not officially been crowned and was keen to keep it that way for a long time. He was only taking on the title to help fix Skraark, as he felt was his true purpose in life.
Eventually, some of the Priskeet returned, prepared to flee again at the sight of the Doctor and his two Skraarkan companions. Knet had stepped forward to speak, laving the Doctor to stand in his shadow and watch, only intervening where he felt necessary.
An agreement was reached. The Priskeet were allowed to remain under the surface of Skraark and build their colonies there, as long as they did nothing to harm the generous Skraarkans, who would never think of hurting them. The Doctor thought it was a bit of a flimsy agreement, but he knew that it would work out because the sun didn't set long enough on Skraark for the Priskeet to risk coming above land (and he'd cobbled together a high frequency emitting device to be placed in the town centre to reveal any cheating Priskeet).
Despite the mess, the situation had worked out quite well in the Doctor's eyes. He didn't usually stick around for the resolution of any destruction he may have helped or hindered, but he was glad that he had overseen the joining of two great races and an agreement that would last for as long as either species lived.
He was grinning to himself as he strolled back to the TARDIS. He brushed a colourful swathe of fabric that was hanging ready for the coronation ceremony aside and ducked beneath a row of dangling red banners. There, standing proudly at the end of the alley, exactly where he had left it (sort of) was the TARDIS. No matter what sort of a day he had had, the Doctor's last reminder of his people was always a welcome sight. He strolled down the alley and stepped inside, the door making its familiar creaking sound.
Donna was sat casually on the flight seat, her legs stretched out and resting on the edge of the console unit, nonchalantly flicking through a glossy magazine. She looked up as the Doctor entered.
'You're looking pretty chirpy,' she commented. 'What happened? Did they reward you with bananas or somethin'?'
'No, no,' he told her, taking long strides up the rattling grating, hands in his pinstriped pockets. 'It just… It worked out. And that hardly ever happens. Not for me.'
He leaned against the console, smiling broadly. Donna swung her legs off the console and perched on the edge of the seat, palms resting on the cushions by her side.
'Where to then, spaceman?'
The Doctor blew air out of his lips like a horse and looked up thoughtfully, folding his arms across his chest.
'Hmmm… I dunno. The beach maybe? Yeah, the beaches of Tir-falls! Fantastic they are, the sand is actually made up of thousands of millions of flakes of gold. Actual pure gold! But it's still so soft. It's manmade- well, Tir-fallin made, but still amazing… Interested?'
He turned his head to the side to look at the wide-eyed Donna.
'Oh, definitely!' she breathed, sliding off the seat (a little ungracefully). 'Lemme just go and get some stuff- Sunglasses, yeah, definitely gonna bring those this time!'
The Doctor watched her excitedly dash off to gather armfuls of things that she probably wouldn't use. He stood up, abandoning his leaning stance to set the co-ordinates for Tir-fall.
He was just finalising the settings when he felt his left breast pocket suddenly grow warm. Feeling his eyebrows meet at the middle, he rooted around in the pocket for the source of his warmth and found the leather wallet that contained his psychic paper.
A little confused, he flipped the warm material open and watched as a neatly-written message sprawled its way across the psychic paper.
'The Library- come as soon as you can.'
It was signed off with an x- a kiss.
The Doctor stared at the message for a few seconds, feeling the pad grow cold again. He contemplated the message before him, ultimately deciding, in his usual curious nature, that he would, of course go to the Library. And why not now?
He flipped the wallet closed and stuffed it back inside his pocket, before starting to change the co-ordinates for the biggest library in the Universe. He paused and looked over his shoulder as the green central column started to pulse and whir.
'Donna!' he called. 'I've got something to show you!'
……
A/N: And so, it is done. Just thought I'd wrap it up there with a nice tie-in to the fantastic Steven Moffat two-parter. Hope you all enjoyed!