A/N:OtherMeWriter, thank you for the feedback and reviews. Jelly Babies?
Yep, that's what it is all about… I think. I figured Johns not the genius here but he's been tracking Riddick successfully so likely he's the one that is going to make those leaps of logic and come out being right.
The bit about the food and the cabinet goes back to the very first episodes of the show, where it is shown that the ship can make any food or drink that a person desires, if they don't mind it being in cubes, pills, wafers, or orange. Apparently Gallifreyans find orange and cubes to be appealing in their foodstuffs. Ian on the other hand didn't really. I guess roast in cubes and orange beer just wasn't his thing. I figure she's had a bit of an upgrade on that, working with telepathic desires instead of buttons, and trying to get the colors more what folks expect. After a thousand years or so it's still not quite perfect. Of course the Doctor does have a working set of ecosystems and a fairly large store of 'real' supplies too.
PS: Sections with Mal and Zoe are based on "Out Of Gas" flashback scenes, from the show Firefly.

Summary: The Doctor, reeling from the effects of the TimeWar as the last surviving TimeLord, stumbled into a situation he could not ignore when the TARDIS landed him inside a ship that was clearly in trouble. After the rescue, he's left with eight survivors that he must somehow get to safety. But the situation is not as cut and dry as he might like. His people may be gone, but the stamp he's made on the universe is still there, and he finds himself caught in a web spun of the choices he's made in the past…

It's 2517. Something in history has prompted humanity to explode out from their home world. Could the events of 2164 be responsible? Was Earth a myth or was it real? In fleeing Earth-that-Was, humanity scattered to the stars across the galactic arm. Initial survey teams targeted likely planets and systems for habitation and not all of them ended up on the same side of the sector. Blue Sun exists on one side, separated by a patch of 'wild space' filled with exotic binary and triple star systems, from the rest of civilized space.

Few ships brave the route. But luck had it that one ship did. Risking a ghost run, the only contact that the two sides have, the Hunter-Gratzner crashed midway through the journey. Original Port of Departure: Eavesdown Docks, Persephone. Mixed Sino-Anglo culture. Original Port of Call: Tangiers-5. Darkside. Mixed Islamic-Anglo culture. Crew complement: Four. Passengers: Forty. Living 'Cargo': Two. Survivors: Eight plus One

So what happens to Dr. Simon Tam, his brilliant but damaged sister, a convicted murder by the name of Richard B. Riddick, and the other survivors from the crash of the Hunter-Gratzner at planet M-344/G-2 now that they are on their way home? They end up slightly out of their own Time, on a ship filled with living sculptures… And just how is this related to the TimeWar?

A Doctor Who / Firefly / Riddick crossover.

Features Doctor 9, Pre-"Rose"; The cast of Firefly; and Carolyn Fry, William J. Johns, Imam Abu al'Walid, 'Jack B. Badd', Ali Abdullah, and Richard B. Riddick…

Doctor Who and the Ties that Bind.

Part Twenty-One

Parley

Jack dreamt that night of a dark haired woman with a sweet face whose eyes were golden. She glowed. She seemed sad. He remembered in the morning that she urged him to think carefully about what he wanted and what he needed and to make his choice wisely. But Jack already knew what he wanted and what he needed and no matter what the cost he had already decided. As much as he hated to do it, he'd have to leave someone behind. Living a lie wasn't for him. He just hoped everyone understood.

He bathed and dressed, before heading to the kitchen to see who was making breakfast that morning. Not to say that he's surprised by the fact that the lights are almost out in the kitchen would be an understatement, but he's pretty fast on his feet, as such things go, so when he peeks in and notices that he figures that Rich is in there. And by past experience he knows that where Rich is then likely the Doctor is too. With the way they've been buzzin' and blushin' lately he'd better give 'em a warning. He clears his throat, "You decent in here?" He swears that they jump apart, even if they don't really.

"Come on in Jack," says that deep voice that he associates with safety. He notes the lights adjust a bit so he can find his way around. The Doctor is in there too, leaning against the counter with a mug in his hand, while the darker skinned man is cooking what smells like sausage gravy. Jack smiles at the pale man, with his large ears and his normally manic grin. He looks worn, this morning, but he reaches for the child's hand and Jack happily clears the distance.

"So, we're back in space?" he asks. The Doctor squeezes his hand and then pulls him into a one armed hug. He's buzzing enough to sound like there's a hive of bees in the place.

It's Riddick that answers; "Yep, or something close, anyhow. You want some of this Jack?" The green-eyed boy is not surprised that the other man is doing all the vocal talking but he is curious as to why.

"If there's enough, sure. It's early still isn't it?"

The bronze man settles three plates on the table and then pulls pitchers of milk and juice, "Yes. But that's ok," he says. Then he tugs the Time Lord over to the table, "Please eat something?" Jack watches as the pale man sits and then joins the pair at the table. The food smells good to him, after days of rations. He tries to not watch to see if the Doctor does eat. Weird that Rich is sorta hovering, but not. "So, Jack, when we get to Helion, what do you want to do? Will you go with Ali to school?"

"Weren't we gonna talk about that?" He glances from the blue eyes to the silver ones, "You two are buzzin' constantly now, but on a different pitch than before." The two men give him identical expressions that he can't quite read. "What?"

Rich licks his lips, "Just – ok, that's strange." After a moment more he adds, "What would you call this 'different pitch'?"

Jack chews, thoughtfully thinking this through. He's never heard anyone with a pitch quite like that. But he knows how it feels, and it reminds him of Shazza and Zeke. His cheeks redden. No. He can't say that. He glances up to find them both looking at him. "Um – I don't know. I mean, I can guess…"

Then the Doctor surprises him by saying softly, "Would you like to be part of it? Part of my family, Jack?" His voice sounds raw, like he's been screaming or sobbing or has somehow stressed his vocal cords. Although Jack notes this and is concerned about it, he's stunned by the offer. Not just 'stay here' sort of thing but something deeper. He's been looking for that. With Shazza and Zeke he almost had it. With Abu he never would, because the holy man could never understand his life. But he bets Riddick could. And the Doctor is including the bronze man, Jack knows. The honey-haired boy blinks. Yes. More than anything. He slowly nods. "Even if it means you can never go back to your old life, because you will outlive everyone you know."

"But I'll get to stay with you, right? Stay here?"

"Yes, for as long as you want." And then something happens, like the universe exploding and reforming, and he can see so much more than he could before. It's beautiful, and fantastic, an' gold and amber and green… Layers on layers of information flow in and out and he connected to it, but not really, not yet anyhow. And Jack knows that this is what the Doctor means, exactly how much of a change it would be. But it is ok; he accepts this, if they will have him. But he's so flawed, so screwed up… What if the Doctor looks inside his soul and finds him rotten? Jack isn't sure when he moves, but he becomes aware of holding the Doctor around the waist for dear life, scared that the man will find him broken and unworthy and dirty. He'd do anything to stay here. He'd even do those things he hates. He lets out a little squeak when the Doctor catches his chin and pulls his face up, "I will never ask you for anything like what he made you do. Your body is your own, Jack. You must understand that staying with me will change you, and you must make that choice. But I will never, never force you into any of those situations that he made you believe you had to endure. And I," he looks over at the ex-ranger, "-- We will kill anyone who touches you in any way that you don't want them to."

And it is then that Jack knows that his past doesn't matter that the Doctor and Riddick want him anyway.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Simon was heading toward the medical area of the TARDIS when he catches the sound of a roughened voice speaking in scientific terms, " – that you possess a natural tapetum lucidum, more developed than most of those of Furyan stock. Which would be my f--" The Tam scion identifies the voice as the Doctor's before he gets the door open all the way.

"Don't say it." Riddick cuts him off.

The dark haired young man comes into the room to see Richard sitting in an examination chair that he hadn't spotted before, but then for all he knew Verity might have just moved it here, with the Doctor peering into one eye. He stops to study the three-dimensional image rotating as a hologram in the screen off to the side. "Why did the surgeon slice the nerves that control the muscles of the iris?"

" 'Cuz he was a bovine medic that didn't know what the fuck he was doin'?"

"Oh, well. I suppose then, that might explain it. Now why didn't you go blind again?"

"Superior regenerative healing," the Time Lord answers. "It restored what it could." He pulls back with the scanner and puts some drops in the eye he'd been studying. Rich blinks rapidly and accepts the tissue he's offered when it is pressed into his hand. He's been given a shot to kill the pain although the lights in the room still render him sightless.

Simon studies the hologram, stopping it to peer at the damaged areas, "You can regrow limbs over the course days, and mend bone in seconds, and I suppose, if it came right down to it, new eyes wouldn't be out of the question, although extreme in solution." He folds his arms across his chest.

"Quite." The Doctor looks at the young man, "Like throwing the baby out with the bath water."

"Humans can't regenerate lost nerve tissue. River has the same problem on a larger scale. You mentioned gene therapy. I assume this would involve the introduction of a viral agent that includes genes from a species that can regenerate nerve tissue." He looks at their host pointedly, "Because a new brain is out of the question."

"Yes, something like that."

"Why so vague? I understand it is a procedure beyond current medical advances that I'm trained for, and you have admitted that you are not a medical doctor. The level of advancement that your people achieved must be fantastic for this," he gestures around the room, "to be emergency medical care." The Doctor has to keep himself from flinching back. Really, the boy doesn't know, he can't be expected to understand and it's not his fault. But Simon sees the stiffening of his posture, "I don't mean to offend."

"You haven't, Simon." Curious, that swell of pain across his torso that spreads from his solar plexus to his hearts. Rather an intense ache. He forces himself to breathe. "Actually, my TARDIS was an antique, when I acquired her. I look around and see primitive equipment, in comparison to the advances of even my generation. So, it is flattering that you see this as advanced. I suppose there's a whole lot that I take as a given, and I shouldn't."

The raven-haired lad looks at the floor, "Maybe… If you teach me…" He looks up, "We can both learn something."

Thete looks at him. "Well I think, maybe, we could start by undoing the damage to Richard's eyes. And you're a surgeon, so perhaps you could help me figure out how to remove the hydro-luminescent film?"

"I'm not sure we can. I was thinking that it might be more effective to correct the nerve damage first. But I suppose that to restore color vision the artificial film has to go." Richard sighs and lies back in the chair. Sometime today, or tomorrow, something would be done about his eyes…

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Now Jabe'd been doing this a lot of years, so when this youngish gent wandered in to the shipyard he took one look and just knew the man was there to buy a ship. And he knew just which ship would fit a respectable merchant type like this one, "Yep. A real beauty, ain't she? Yes, sir. A right smart purchase, this vessel. I tell you what, you buy this ship, treat her proper, she'll be with ya for the rest of your life." This is a nice out-of-system, long range, Aquilan built freighter he's showing the man, could make a thousand ghost runs no sweat. Versatile, light cargo-passenger combo only a few decades old that could go another hundred years easy, priced to move. Only the lad's not paying attention, "Son? Hey, son?" He looks around to see what in this junk heap might have caught the fella's eyes, "You hear a word I been saying?"

"How about that one?" Malcolm Reynolds says his eyes never leaving the silver curves of the boat that has stolen his focus, and perhaps his heart.

Jabe looks, "That ol' firefly? Well… She's got the ability to get her legs back under 'er. Won't get ya far out from under big brother though. Not like this one. You wanna take a look inside?"

Yep, it's taken his heart al' right. The man looks smitten and he hasn't even set foot in 'er yet, "Yeah. Can we?"

Jabe thinks he's sold himself a ship and perhaps the half junker next to it too, for parts. And maybe he can rent a space to the fella, because that ol' firefly gonna take some elbow grease to get running.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

When he showed up at the holdover house for ex-independents being given retraining to fit into the new Alliance mold, Zoë knew he had some crazy idea that just might save their asses, if it didn't get them killed. The grin gave him away. He'd managed to sue over the loss of his ranch on Shadow and somehow convince the system that his role in the war did not justify the loss of his livelihood. And they'd paid him a tight little sum, to shut him up she guessed. It was supposed to buy him a new homestead on a different rim world. But she imagined he'd done something else with the money. Her own claim ended up going to an elder on her mother's side that hadn't played a role in the war over the loss of her father's ship. So she ended up shoveling shit, or sewage, same difference. Really, she had nothing to lose by going with Mal to the shipyard.

Now she wished she'd been here before he made the purchase. Her mother had told her to never let a man buy the ship. They might run the books after, but the big purchase should be done by a woman. Leave it to Mal to prove her mother right. He opened the airlock and a wave of old dust rolled out at her. At least the seals were good. Sunlight flooded into the cargo bay, making their shadows reach into the hold. Mal's bouncing like a little boy, excited to show off a new toy as he urges her into the hull proper. Aside from the footprints from him looking around with the salesman the dust is undisturbed and years thick. "Well?" he asks.

She tries to keep the look on her face neutral as she looks around, "You paid money for this, sir? On purpose?"

He must think she is joking, and she has to admit that sometimes it can be hard to tell, but this time she wasn't really, "What? Come on, seriously, Zoë. Whaddya think?"

Nope, no joke, "Honestly, sir." She looks him in the eye, "I think you got robbed." Unless, of course, he was given this junk heap, and the trash pile next to it, for parts, -- and perhaps even was let the space it sits on for a cent a year…

"Robbed?" He looks slapped, "What?" Puzzled, "No." Defiant, "What do you mean?" Hell, he's got that look in his eyes like he's in love. With this ship. She'll never pry him off the thing.

But he asked… "It's a piece of fei-wu."

Mal gives her a startled expression, "Fei-wu?" The look morphs to something thoughtful, but not given-up. More like debatin' to win, that face he's wearin', "Okay. She won't be winning any beauty contests anytime soon. But she is solid. Ship like this, be with ya 'til the day you die."

Never one to bite her tongue, Zoë tosses back at him, " 'Cause it's a deathtrap."

"That's not..." Mal values Zoë for many things. Her level head, her calm under pressure, her willingness to put her life on the line by his say-so -- so many things. But her ability to see beyond the current situation is not necessarily one of those valued traits. Inspired she is not, "You are very much lacking in imagination."

And she takes insults well, when passed by friends, "I imagine that's so, sir."

He looks at her. There's a spark in her eye that tells him she's game for his crazy scheme, just like all the others. She's got his back, no matter what. He smiles at her, "C'mon. You ain't even seen most of it. I'll show you the rest." He heads deeper into the ship, "And try to see past what she is, and on to what she can be."

"What's that, sir?"

"Freedom, is what."

Zoë catches his arm and points, "No, I meant what's that?"

He glances at the pile of something, "Oh. Yeah. Just step around it. I think something must've been living in here." Mal heads up the steps, "I tell ya, Zoë, we find ourselves a mechanic, get her running again. Hire a good pilot. Maybe even a cook. Live like real people. Small crew, them as feel the need to be free. Take jobs as they come -- and we'll never be under the heel of nobody ever again. No matter how long the arm of the Alliance might get, we'll just get ourselves a little further."

Damn, did he just say – "Get her running again?"

"Yeah."

Oh boy… "So not running now?"

"Not so much. But we got parts."

"Ah," So he did get the scrap heap next to this.

"She'll soar, Zoë. You'll see. I already know what I'm gonna call her. Got a named all picked out..."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Settling down on Helion Prime was the most apologetic – and honest – thing she could do. She even got the time right, within a few weeks anyhow. It was in the middle of the night when she materialized. Thete hadn't spoken much to her, not since she'd gotten them off the Kubla Kahn. She wasn't even sure about pinging to let him know about the arrival. But it didn't matter. The brown-eyed man with a silver fire in the pits of his eyes wandered into the control room and looked at the console. He stroked her, "Not mad at you, really. He's just hurt, Verity. But he knows you did it to try to save him." This is Amadak, more as she remembers him. She hums at him, washing the broad man in a feeling of comfort and motherly love.

She still needs to find the others that can destroy the parasite. Fire. Someone to channel her essence. And maybe void. She pulls back, feeling an ache that comes from knowing who could have helped had she not been destroyed in the war. Too many tendrils of pain still exist. For now, she needs to take her Time Lord someplace where he can heal, where the humans around him can remind him that family transcends species. But wait… There's a fire child, one that just might work, and not too far away either.

She's eager to go again, if he gives her permission to choose the location. But she must wait for the others to leave.

There are tears in the morning, as the friends part, one boy staying and one going. And hugs too, as pilots separate and brothers-in-arms wish each other the best while each secretly hopes to never see the other again. And, ironically, a man of God steps out of a miracle, not realizing that he's been in the presence of a god for weeks. They have ways to get in contact with each other should the need arise. Funny that her Doctor would think to do that now, with the redheaded marshal of all people. But maybe it's a good thing for him to build a network of contacts he can come back to now that their own kind are gone.

The Doctor is left with his family, River, Simon, Jack and Richard. While the guests, Abu, Ali, Carolyn, and William, walk out into the sunrise and into a new chance at life. River curls her arms around Jack's shoulders and hugs him, "So little brother -- you decided to stay?"

"Didn't you say I would?" The dark haired teen doesn't answer, instead planting a sisterly kiss on the top of his head.

Breathing a sigh of relief like the weight of the world has lifted just a bit, the pale, hairless, tall, almost-last-of-his-species, operator of the TARDIS says, "So where to, now? London maybe? I could sure use a plate of real chips."

"Didn't you mention that you could never land on Earth-That-Was without stumbling into an alien plot to take over the planet?" Simon says as he turns, putting a hand over the Doctor's to stop him from setting the controls.

"Yeah, I did say that. Come on, Simon! Where's your sense of adventure?"

"How about someplace quiet and I whip up fried 'taters?" Rich suggests.

The blue-eyed Time Lord looks at him, catching his eye, -- And will you add anything to that to make 'quiet' more enticing?

Like? The bronze skinned ex-ranger would be hard pressed to respond vocally at the moment, as those dark blue eyes, which he can see the color of now, take his breath away.

Banana? Thete thinks to him, and Richard flushes crimson. Jack can't help it; he burst out into giggles. He's got no idea what they are saying to each other but it is awful funny when they make each other blush. And he guesses by the wink he gets from the Time Lord that his reaction might have been the point of it all, in the first place.

Simon looks from one to the other and then to River, "Gwai-gwai long duh dong! What is going on here?" She shrugs and smiles. Whatever it is, where ever they go, it's home.