A/N: The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, ChloeIsMe, Cordelia-Lear, Isis the Sphinx, Jessa L'Rynn, Kathryn Shadow, NewDrWhoFan, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, and SilverWolf7 are proud to present the Third Annual Doctor Who October Project.
For this year's story, each author is writing a different character with Jessa L'Rynn editing it all together so that it makes some semblance of sense.
Disclaimer: If we owned Doctor Who, don't you think we'd be able to pay a little more attention to this project, instead of getting sidetracked by, oh, I don't know, LIFE?
And in answer to Aietradaea's review, dead fics can be resuscitated. Wait, I mean, it wasn't dead!
Dead Men Don't Regenerate
Chapter 14: Strain and Strainer
Starring: The Tenth Doctor, the Third Doctor and Det. Factor
Confusion, surprise… and an almost fanatical devotion to dashing headlong for disaster, Factor thought grumpily. She was stomping through the back corridor, looking for the fuzzy-haired, suit-wearing Doctor.
They'd gotten as far in his story as him chasing after his ghost, when he'd suddenly decided to move the conversation to the second floor, apparently where he actually intended to chase after said ghost. He'd not warned her, of course, merely explained as she raced after him towards the main staircase, that he'd gotten no further in his initial search than his name on the wall in blood - which he'd apparently licked, and therefore could tell her it was Type AB Positive human blood. She was impressed that his assessment of the type matched Gayle's report. She was also a little horrified and more than a little disgusted as she made a mental note to have Dr. Guessom test the blood for HIV.
She'd just had to ask, of course, how he'd ended up going from the cubicle her cops had left him in to the kitchen. Detective Factor was starting to think she was going to have to hand in her shield after this one, because it was entirely possible she was going to have a phobia about asking questions.
"Well, where else was I going to find a tea strainer?"
"A... what?"
"A tea strainer. They usually keep them in kitchens. Well, some people keep them in kitchens. Occasionally, they keep them in parlors and such not, and Louis the XIV kept his in a locked chest - solid gold, you know. That's the problem with long reigns of kings who live for ages. They end up with untrained children on the throne, outliving their own heirs... very complicated... And of course, Louis XV and I weren't going to get on anyway, were we?"
"Why a tea strainer?" Factor had interrupted, determined to get him back on topic.
"You're a witch, aren't you? Didn't you read your Rowling? A tea strainer's just the thing. Just ask Professor Lockhart! Blimey, what'd'ya learn in these American schools..." He'd looked up at a thunderous crash, and they'd both seen (though not very clearly) what Factor had suspected to be the Doctor in the tweed jacket go running by, clapping a pair of pot lids together like cymbals. "What's that?"
And the brown-suited Doctor had disappeared. And now Factor was looking for him, and not finding him anywhere.
She threw open a door that was supposed to be a broom cupboard, according to Maynard's listing of the room. Inside, she found a broom, a disused roll-top desk, and the white-haired, tuxedo-wearing Doctor ransacking it. Surprised, she might've let out a little yelp.
The Doctor looked up, annoyance practically written across his face. "Where have you been?"
Factor's hackles rose. She started to tell him that she was a full-grown detective, and NO ONE talked to her like that, not EVER, but he waved a careless hand and charged on, heedless of her annoyance. "Never mind. Come look at this."
"This" turned out to be several long pages of notes about the house. "Here's the very odd thing," the Doctor said. "This is very similar to the Master's handwriting - so similar that I'd say it's either his or a close relative's..."
"But why would he be making notes about his house?" Detective Factor wondered, in spite of herself.
"Why, indeed?" the Doctor agreed. "Excellent question. Very much the detective, aren't you?"
"That is my job," Factor reminded him.
"Yes, yes, of course." He shook his head to himself. "I do believe I'm starting to sound like my first self. Must be the proximity."
Again, Factor began to feel irrelevant as he continued to flick through the papers. She cleared her throat to get his attention. "Look, I know you've been opening every lock in the place, and helping out some of the boys while you're doing that, but..."
"But you're a very busy woman and you're not just going to stand here waiting patiently when you could be out shooting something?" the Doctor suggested dryly.
Factor rolled her eyes. "Look, I get that you Brits don't carry guns, not even with your law enforcement - apparently, you see a murderer and yell stop, in hopes that he will. Here, however, law enforcement personnel are issued with weapons, which they are expected to carry. A great many of us do not draw our weapons. Some of us go our entire careers without having fired the thing anywhere but the firing range, ever. Anyone who thinks otherwise watches entirely too much TV. So I don't want to shoot people, I don't carry a gun because I expect to shoot people. If one more person accuses me of planning to shoot people, today, I'll probably get very pissed off..."
"And shoot someone?" the Doctor offered, looking quite cheeky as he said it.
"And stuff cream pies into someone's trousers," Factor snapped back. "Stops them from running, and confuses the hell out of them, too. Works fine for me."
The Doctor chuckled. "I think I like you," he decided. Then again, he went right back to flicking through his papers.
Factor sighed. "Look, Doctor Smith, while you're reading through what I should probably have a team studying instead..."
"Oh, no, you don't want innocent people exposed to the Master if you can help it," he cautioned. "Best to let me do it - I'm something of an expert."
Factor was shocked a bit speechless and just stared at him.
"What was your question, dear girl?" the Doctor offered, surprisingly kind. "While I'm working, I can answer it as well."
Factor was dubious, but finally nodded, realizing she did have another question for him. "All right," she said. "Tell me what happened when you first got here. Before we met in the kitchen."
The Doctor frowned. "That story might be just a little interesting," he said, and put down the papers, after all.
The TARDIS landed with a bit of a bump, but that was fine, considering the hell he'd just gone through to get the Old Girl back in working condition again.
Asking the Master for help because he couldn't remember how to do it himself had been utterly mortifying. Still, at least he now had a completely workable TARDIS. And this was his first little test drive since dematerialising off of the Axon ship.
He rushed to the door, hoping that he was anywhere but Earth, opened the door and was promptly extremely disappointed.
He knew just by the trees and the air surrounding him that he was somewhere on Sol 3. The damnable planet didn't seem to want to let him go. Still, this didn't look or smell much like London, or even anywhere in England, so at least it was a bit of a change of scenery for him.
He was in a forest. It was dark and slightly spooky, but still just a normal forest on normal Earth.
A forest that was at least odd in some way would be much more welcome than...
AROOOOOOOO!
"Oh, hello. That sounded like a wolf. That rules out a few countries at least. Let's see where we are, shall we, Old Girl?" he said to himself, while patting the now closed door of the TARDIS.
AROOOOOOOOOOOOO!
"And that...sounded something like a wolf, but different somehow."
A sickening little yelp, possibly coming from the first wolf echoed in the air around him, and the Doctor took one step towards where the noise had come from.
Maybe it was two wolves in a pack fighting for dominance or food? He wasn't exactly an expert on wolves.
He didn't have to go far. The body of a giant wolf like creature was lying on the ground. Above it was an even bigger wolf creature. Hmm, a werewolf. Or maybe a haemoveriform in wolfs clothing. Interesting.
Not very good for his health though, if those eyes now looking at him, and the snout now sniffing his scent had anything to do with it.
"Well, hello there. I'm going to leave you now. Enjoy your meal."
He turned to go and unfortunately, found another werewolf right behind him, more interested in scenting him out rather than eating him for the moment. It was always the small things one should be grateful for. He couldn't remember who it was who had told him that.
"Oh, well, yes. What do you want?"
The big one ahead of him cocked its head to the side and stared at him. Well, apart from seeing that they were standing over the dead body of what was probably one of their own people, they seem rather...friendly. At least, they weren't being openly hostile to him. Yet again, this could be considered a game to them. Playing with their food, for shame.
Well, he wouldn't become wolf food. Or any other type of food for that matter. He would just walk away and head back to the TARDIS. She'd then take him off this godforsaken rock known as Earth and somewhere else, anywhere else.
Maybe he could find a planet called Anywhere for the occasion.
"Well then. I'll just be off then. Hopefully off this planet if my ship decides to cooperate. I'd offer you gentlemen a lift but, I am not too sure where it is I'd be going, and there are plenty of things in this forest to eat and play with that don't include me. Have a nice day."
With that, he turned to one of the sides, and found it wolf free and took off. He got turned around in the trees, he was having trouble locating his TARDIS because of whatever it was the Time Lords had taken from his head and instead he found his way to a curious looking manor house, instead. A mansion maybe? Either way, it was a rather nice find, considering he heard three werewolves slowly following form a safe distance behind.
Maybe they were native to the area, and were curious as to what he was doing there. Or maybe they were just as lost and wanted off as he did.
Either way, they wouldn't be finding out about each other anything more than necessary, because he had made his way to the house and found an entrance.
He did what any respectable person would do with an entrance. He entered.
To be continued...