A/N: So... I tried to get this posted before the new episode came out in the US... SO CLOSE! Anyway, I'm now 3/3 for uploading once a month! Are you guys proud of me? This chapter is a tad bit shorter, but it felt like a good stopping place, so I stopped! So enjoy your reading! I hope you like all of my other fandom references... there's like... 3 or 4. woo! Anyway, please review when you get to the bottom! I love any critiques, criticisms, or encouragements.

Chapter 13
Wavering World

Rose knelt down by the strange marks on the ground surely left by the Doctor as a result of whatever transport had caused him to leave. She held her hand over the puddles and felt warmth surge into it. For a moment webbings of gold appeared in her periphery as her palm glowed. The scene replayed what she had missed by looking away. A black shadow engulfed the Doctor only where he stood, then like a stone tossed into a still pond it rippled out of existence, taking the Doctor with it. Her power receded and for a moment her raven hair flashed golden and her skin looked like sun caught dust motes.

This form of transport wasn't unfamiliar to her, but it was nasty and outlawed in 5 galaxies. She stood and looked straight up. No ships immediately in front of her, or above her. Transport like that was limited to less than twelve kilometres so he couldn't have gotten far.

That aside, the big problem was why the Doctor had been taken. He wasn't of this universe, had no unfilled ledgers with anyone, not to mention Luna Solaris was a peaceful level six planet. A completely neutral territory for trading. Immigration was a bit tight, but tourist season boomed.

It wasn't like any species was barred either, and it wasn't like the Doctor had offended anyone (yet) that would cause them to be thrown in jail (again). Rose tried to push away the panic and fear coupled with adrenaline that spiked her blood like a fruit cocktail. This was just like when any companion wandered off or was held captive. She just had to keep telling herself that. She'd dealt with this a million times.

But she hadn't… not really.

A few times a very long time ago, she had thought the Doctor wouldn't return. Sure, there were plenty of times where she had wandered off… but that was always different. When he had been eaten by a reaper… it felt like shock. Like this couldn't be possible because he was too strong, too smart, too… eternal. He would come back.

When he regenerated it felt like he was gone even when he was right next to her.

Then there was the time she'd waited five and a half hours with Mickey, constantly defending an alien git who'd gone off to snog a french mistress. That had stung with an aching hollow feeling. Rose remembered the metallic taste in her mouth and the tingling heat in her fingertips. When he had finally come back she had been so angry and yet he had been so sad it had all fizzled.

In retrospect those had been such small problems.

None of those times had felt like the utter dread, panic, and frenzy she had faced on Krop Tor. She was forever grateful that little slice of hell had fallen into a black hole.

Then there were the times she had had to save him.

That one time in Ancient Rome when he'd been a statue and all of the other crazy that trip had been. Then the 2012 Olympics had really tested her strength and knowledge.

But she wasn't that naive human girl anymore. She'd been traveling on her own for years, she'd been the shepherd to the galaxy for many companions. Despite all that a type of worry she hadn't felt in centuries entered her. It assuaged all her senses and made her struggle to stay calm. The more feral parts of the wolf in her tried to bare their teeth all because she had come to the realization that this hadn't ever happened before.

Someone had taken the Doctor to get to her. And only one person in this quadrant of the galaxy would have even an inkling that he mattered to her.

Hanstable.

Fury bubbled up inside her and the hairs on the back of her neck rose up with the feeling of someone watching. She needed answers now. She re-mounted her bike and sped off.

The Doctor came to with the sensation of his whole body sloshing. The kind you get when you drink a lot of liquids and your stomach feels like the ocean. Except he could feel that sensation everywhere. From his eyeballs to his brain, his throat full of nausea and muscles all pudding. His toes squished in his shoes.

He really was the pudding brains he had made fun of now. He wiggled his fingers and got the distinct feeling of vinyl. His eyes flickered open and the Doctor struggled to find what the last thing he remembered was. All the while he could feel his body solidifying more and more till finally he was sure he was one regular Timelord again. For what felt like the millionth time in his life he was glad he wasn't a human whose body was 70% water or he would not have survived the H20port.

The room that greeted him was sideways. Only until he realized his head was still slumped over… at which point he pulled it upright and really began to examine the room. Deep red walls with black wood floors, trimmed in equally black crown molding. There was no ceiling just an expansive view of the night sky which the Doctor suspected was a live projection rather than a window.

Windows in rooms where you're holding someone captive just screamed trouble. Then he looked down at himself where he found he had been correct in guessing vinyl. The chair he was in was a shiny black, high backed armchair. Now this would have been splendid accommodations to wake up to had he not been securely fastened. He was held across his chest, biceps, forearms, thighs, and shins with vinyl arms steadfastly squeezing him to the squeaky material. The fingers interlocked together over each midway point.

So, overall, it was rather unnerving. He shifted slightly and felt the arms grasp tighter; pulling on his flesh, surely leaving finger sized bruises.

Ah. Lovely. His restraints and chair were alive.

The Doctor shuddered.

Creepy.

He couldn't feel either of his sonic devices in his jacket so at present he was rightly screwed.

Returning to the room at large he noticed a phonograph. The brass of it well polished, but still aged. It was merged with a cherry wood cabinet which was intricately carved with lattice work, vines, and rings that made target like shapes on each corner. The table and disk portion currently held no record but the Doctor suspected that the cabinet would tilt open to reveal an interesting selection.

The room smelled like manufactured air that was often found on 51st century spaceships. It also had no visible doors or windows which probably meant the entire thing was an illusion. He could very well be being watched at this very moment.

Time to use his trademark 'get out of bad situations with no plan' tool.

His gob.

"To the entity that has placed me in this room, I would like to converse! Seeing as I am awake now and wonderfully accommodated. Who am I to thank for this?" There was a hissing, like someone letting out air, then a response.

"The master will come speak with you when he wants. You need not ask for audience, it is useless." The whisper had a weird creaking sound to it and seemed to come from slightly above and slightly behind the Doctor. A groan of realization came from the Doctor and he dropped his head.

"Please don't tell me I'm speaking to the chair." The Doctor whispered, eyes closed and now thoroughly uncomfortable despite how comfy the chair was. A rumbling surrounded him and he got the distinct impression he was being laughed at but no verbal response came. Just as well. A chair had just laughed at him.

So with no one to talk to but the chair, and the strong desire not to feel that rumbling voice vibrating his arse… talking was not his way out. Or at least it wasn't until this 'Master' deigned him worthy of address. A horrible shudder ripped through him making him desperately hope there wasn't versions of everyone from the prime universe in Pete's World. The Doctor couldn't help but regret not asking Rose sooner how similar this universe was to their original one. Specifically asking whether or not there were Timelords would have been a great question.

Not to mention there was still the question of how Rose had such an extended lifespan. A quick stab of worry went through him as he thought about Rose. Had she been taken too? Was she hurt? Was she looking for him? Was she worried about him? He was worried, that was for certain.

Last thing he had said was that he promised to try harder, be better at remembering how far she had come. He had kissed her. She had clung to him, squeezing his wrists, holding him to her forehead just a moment longer. It had made his heart beat faster and his thoughts go rosey… then he'd stepped back because if he hadn't he would have jumped right over their carefully drawn boundary line.

Her eyes were still closed when he started to feel like he was swimming. His entire view of her was wavey and watery… then he'd blacked out. The Doctor could only hope above all other meager things that he had been the intended target.

Even though that didn't make any sense. He hadn't angered anyone on this planet and no one had kicked off at him...yet…besides Rose. So if him being the target didn't make any sense that only left one option.

Bait.

Something on this planet had been lying in wait for Rose. She said she'd been here before, she even knew people here. She even seemed like she might be a regular visitor.

So then it was all up to her. He had faith she would be able to find him and stop whatever was planned. The only thing he was worried about was Rose getting hurt. He had no idea what the motive was, but people who stooped to kidnapping tended to be similar types of people.

A loud sound of air decompressing, then a sharp hiss broke the silence in the room. Directly in front of the Doctor a section of wall about two and a half metres tall by one and a half metres wide moved toward the Doctor. Smoke leaked from the edges, and then poured out of the opening as the door slid to the left leaving a dark opening shrouded in smoke.

Whoever they were they knew how to make an entrance… or how to distract him while he was poisoned with with gas. The Doctor gave a quick sniff of the air but determined it was safe.

Footsteps, sharp sounds of hard shoes met his ears, like high heels but the sound was… wider.

"Everyone told me I was an idiot for thinking I would ever find out anything about her past." The American voice was deep but cheery and achingly familiar. It made the Doctor's brain itch just trying to place it. "But I just knew if I set things up right I'd get my answers. I'd make the perfect trap." The man stepped into the room, his hands deep in the pockets of his long dark blue coat. The Doctor could feel the color leaving his face, his mouth and throat going dry. "And boy. Picasso couldn't have painted a prettier picture!" He had a big wide grin and soft brown hair styled perfectly. Black dress pants, wing-tipped shoes, belt, and suspenders paired with a grey button down shirt. The most out of place thing was the black and grey tie patterned with tiny circles within diamonds.

The Doctor's mouth was still void of saliva even as the name bubbled up his throat into his mouth, demanding to be said. So when he finally spoke it came out cracked, dry, and full of disbelief.

"Jack?!"

Sharp corners, tight turns, blinding speed, and a few dodged pedestrians later Rose sped through the beaded curtain, the little plastic pieces making a wave of sound barely heard over the squeal of tires as Rose swung the bike to a dramatic stop. Then the engine cut and Rose whipped off her helmet.

"HANSTABLE!" She yelled as she got off the bike, the beads still clacked in the background and Rose could hear a gurgle of voices outside drawing closer because of her spectacle. "HANS!" She yelled again when he didn't appear. She dropped her helmet to the ground with no regard and strode through the tapestry that led to the back of the shop. Heat flared in her eyes as she summoned the wolf in her. She could smell him. Down the hallway in a large room. She went down the hall and threw open the door.

"It's not wise to hide from me, Hans. I can sniff you out like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis while stalking slowly into the room. She could smell fear and guilt in the air and it made her angry. She could feel the heat in her eyes as she tried to control her anger coursing like molten gold in her veins. She took in the room around her, it was an airplane hangar with converted stables along one wall that contained a variety of animals. Clear doored garages along the opposite wall stacked five levels tall filled with classic muscle cars and high tech flying vehicles alike. There was a washing station in one corner, and a multi-variety fuel output in another. The center of the hangar had boats, planes, and boat-planes but mainly it had spacecrafts. One designed to be an exact replica of the Millennium Falcon. The ramp into it was open and an ornately designed purple and gold rug lay at the bottom.

A clang echoed from inside a ship to her left. The Quinjet, a perfect replica of the Avengers ship. Rose's quick strides carried her up the ramp then her eyes scanned the interior. A curtain on a med bed was drawn closed on her left and with a snarl she pulled it back. The quirky man behind it squealed.

"Don't kill me Bad Wolf!"

"How do you know my name?" The fury leaking out of her voice and essence served to make the half human quiver.

"T-The strange m-man. Thing." Rose just glared, knowing there was more to the story. Hans sat up a bit, using placating gestures, voice gaining a slight strength. "Years ago when you first came to this planet and saved us. The stories of you were… explosive. Every new-comer heard of the Fable. There was this one guy, he asked if you could change your face. Everyone laughed at him. But I…" He trailed off and Rose's eyes flashed with the memories. After the invaders had receded, their threat of enduring slavery gone, Fable's rings had been damaged. Her form kept flickering. Not long enough to really see the face beneath but enough for golden particles to slip out. Hans had seen the form underneath.

"You told him what you saw and that he wasn't crazy." Her tone now calmer. She'd never told Hans to keep what he saw to himself. So he nodded vigorously and continued.

"He wanted to know what you looked like, said he was a friend. But he… didn't feel friendly. His energy was all wrong." It was at this point that Rose remembered Hans was part Empathite. He could feel emotions in the air like others could feel the wind on their face. So when Hans said his energy was wrong, it probably meant he could see the man's intentions, whatever they were. So far, this wasn't looking good for her.

"Hans, what did he want?" Rose demanded and stepped closer which made Hanstable jump. In a timid voice he answered.

"He asked if you ever brought around 'old friends'." Then he swallowed thickly, his eyes looking anywhere but at her face. "He wanted to know if you'd ever traveled with someone you… love." The hairs on Rose's arms prickled and her heart thumped in her chest painfully. Then she suddenly turned away from Hans with a yell and punched the thick metal. Her knuckles stung as the skin split. She could feel the fresh bruises forming. She pulled away and saw the dent she had left. Her body tried to heal her injuries but she wouldn't allow it, she needed to feel this pain. Everything had gone right screwy all because she couldn't keep her emotions in tact. She needed to feel the consequences of losing control.

"How did you know?" She didn't turn to look at him, she couldn't right now, her eyes filled with a golden rage.

"They told me there were two men to look out for. The one was a gruff, adonis like man with deep green eyes, light brown hair, and a heavy trigger finger. They said he was human." Rose clenched her eyes shut. A sadness flooding her system. How could someone of this universe even know about Dean. "The other… was said to be an alien from another universe. An old friend, your oldest friend. H-He said the air around you two would be like static flashes of color. Something even people not like me could see." Hans paused and Rose met his eyes for the first time in a few minutes. "Cosmic." He breathed out and Rose let her head drop to the wall.

"You need to focus and figure out why he squealed." A distinct midwestern American voice sent chills down Rose's spine and filled her with dread. Hans didn't react to the voice so Rose didn't look to him, even though she could feel his presence haranguing her, standing next to the pilot's seat out of the corner of her eye.

"What did they threaten you with?" Rose's voice was hard and she glared at Hans, trying to concentrate on just him.

"They said they'd kill me if I didn't deliver! If I let you just go by… poof, no more Hans!" Rose grunted at him, turning away. Her mind was swirling thinking selfish thoughts.

"Find out how he contacted them. You might be able to trace their location." A shiver ran down her spine, the voice was closer now, daring her to look.

"How did you talk to them?" She heard shuffling from the bed, and then he was handing her something. She took it, smooth and silver the tablet lit up when she tapped it. She walked away from him to the front of the Quinjet, sitting in the pilot's chair.

"W-What are y-you doing?"

"Tracing them. They took the Doctor, I need to get him back." She plugged the device into the dash, quickly connecting wires as she fired up the interface.

"Voice recognition pass required."

"Galactic Avenger." Rose spoke up so the machine would hear her.

"Welcome Fabled Woman." The mechanical voice responded, a few clacks of the keyboard and the tracking program was running.

"Now that's not-...You're an official Avenger?!" Rose smirked at that tone of voice, warmth blossoming in her chest and settling right next to the ache. The device began beeping indicating the location had been found. Rose jumped and unplugged the device, next moment she was walking out of the Quinjet. She heard Hans scrambling down the ramp behind her.

"W-What are you gonna d-do?" Came his cowardly voice.

"Whatever I need to." She didn't look back at him, surveying the hangar for the transport she would need. "What's the sneakiest transport you have?" Hans scuttled down the rest of the ramp, pointing shakily in the direction of the Millennium Falcon. Rose actually scoffed and turned to give Hans an earful when he spoke up.

"Not the ship Ma'am… the rug." A few seconds of confusion flitted by her before…

"It's a magic carpet?" She asked in disbelief, next to her that deep timbre spoke up again with childish joy.

"Like in Aladdin?" Rose couldn't help but smile at his fondness for Disney movies.

"Oh this is gonna be a treat" Rose said as a smile slid over her face. Now… how did one exactly fly a magic carpet?

A/N:What do you guys think? Please review! Reviews keep me fed and happy! And maybe I'll post before another month has passed next time! What have you guys been feelings about the New Doctor? About the writing for the show? The new companions? Personally, I'm in love. I'm so happy the companions have actual lives and stories outside of the Doctor, so that really makes me commend Chris Chibnall after years of Moffat's circular writing. Till next time! Tara!

P.S. ALSO I ALMOST FORGOT TO MENTION THIS. I'm participating in this auction charity project for Random Acts! Any spn fans out there should know what that is... but basically, its this thing called FicFacer$! We're writing and drawing fanfiction in exchange for a donation to Random Acts! So the highest bidder will win a customized fanfic! So if you're at all interested in having me make pretty much whatever you want into a story, and you're willing to give a few bucks to charity, then check it out! There's over 55 talented people who are donating their time and effort to this project which is really fucking cool if you ask me!

So here's the link

www. juliahouston fic-facers/

And if you're feeling inclined give it a browse, and maybe put in a bid on me! (Just take out the spaces to make the link work)

Anyway, love you guys! See you soon!