A/N: Firefly bits here are from "Serenity" Part one, the initial pilot episode for the TV show, not the BDM. Any remaining scenes recycled from "Rose" still belong to the BBC, even if I completely change them around. Ryu-widfree, thanks for the 'favorite story' listing. Ohhh… Jelly Babies for reviews. ;-)
Delphine Pryde, Thank you.
My Reflection, actually, there's plenty of room. Serenity has one private 'crew' room that is not being used toward the front of the ship, and six passenger rooms per level with a seventh set between the levels in the back, for a total of thirteen 'passenger' cabins in the 'dorm' area. So… Dobson takes one. Book takes another, and Simon and River take two. If you watch the show you can see how there are some rooms up above the others, but even if not there would be enough room for Jack, Rose, Richard and the Doctor with space left over, if they doubled up. But they don't need to.
Cassikat, that cheque likely came from UNIT too. The Doctor did get paid while he worked for them, his credentials are still valid, so why not use them, right? It's got to be good for something, why not for avoiding Jackie's 'Slap of Doom'? Of course, in 'Rose' she was only supposed to be gone overnight and ended up being gone for year. In this case she'll be gone for a year and she'll actually live that year.
And… This chapter starts with a bit of 'what happened when the Doctor and Richard are alone in the TARDIS' (wiggles eyebrows) inspired by the fact that someone has to step in and take over for Verity inside the Doctor's mind and Richard is a possessive snot. There's a hint of Doctor2/Jamie here as well.

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 his past…

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 in 2517 to Dr. Simon Tam, his brilliant but damaged sister, a convicted murder by the name of Richard B. Riddick, and Jack B. Badd 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 then a 'quiet' trip to 2005 London brings them face to face with living sculptures of another kind… And just how is this related to the TimeWar?

A Doctor Who / Firefly / Riddick crossover.

Features Doctor 9, companion Rose Tyler; The cast of Firefly; 'Jack B. Badd' and Richard B. Riddick…

Doctor Who and the Ties that Bind.

Part Twenty-Nine

Persephone

The first thing he was aware of was that he was – not – in close contact with his ship, the TARDIS, Verity. Thete almost weeps. The temptation is certainly there. Nearly a thousand years he's had her in his head, closer than anyone else, and now… She's with River. He can still feel her, mind. Just not that closely. Certainly it's different, vastly so than it's been for the last six lifetimes at least. "Thete?" It's Amadak, sounding concerned and slightly scared. He turns away from the bronze skinned man, clutching his pillows. He can smell the scents of Rose and River on them as he pulls the smooth cushions up to his face. All he can think of his how distant she feels to him now, like the touch of her will never be as deep as before. "Don't do this Thete." He's a companion on his own ship. The agony is unbearable. "Look, she warned us – me – you might act this way, and I promised her to do whatever was necessary. Come on, look at me."

He doesn't want to look at the dark eyes with their silver fire in the depths, or the even bronze complexion that makes it hard to breathe. He doesn't want the scent of his Amadak in his nose to tempt him if the man is just going to make light of the situation and tease him. He'd rather sulk than be faced with the desire he has and have it go unfulfilled again, "Go away."

Richard pried the cushions out of his hands, forced him flat on his back, and pinned him down. "No. Thete. Look at me." Those blue eyes meet his mirrored brown ones. They were so filled with pain that it broke the con's resolve to keep this relationship out of the physical. "I know it hurts. It's not permanent. Let me help."

"You wouldn't before."

"Bullshit. It wasn't what you needed. I'm not sure it is what you need now."

Thete twisted and managed to roll out from under the broader man, getting to his feet and swaying, "I think I'm old enough to tell what I need without you deciding for me. Now, go."

Richard sighed, "You can barely stand. Contumacious ass. How about this, let me run you a bath and get you some clean clothes. Then we'll see what happens."

"Why?"

"Because I want to? Thete," Richard gets up from the bed, comes around in front of the unsteady Time Lord, and puts his hands on the man's waist; "we won. We were successful in saving Earth and the Nestene both. This is a good day, yeah? A good win?" The expression he gets is hollow, pained. He moves in close and catches the man's lips. "Let me do this for you, huh?" The grip he feels on the fabric of his shirt is desperate. "Come on, let's get the coat off." It takes some work but he manages to get the leather off, followed by the jumper and undershirt. Then about halfway to the bathroom he coaxes off the shoes and gets the black jeans open. Of course, this is accomplished with lots of light kisses and gentle tugging.

Once in the bathroom he sits the Doctor down and gets the water running. Verity has lowered the lights to a soft glow and provided a very soothing, romantic bath oil fragrance. While the water is just slightly cooler than Richard would like, it's perfect for Thete, not too hot, which is good for him. And just because the Time Lord decides to be headstrong, Richard strips down and then works the rest of the Doctor's clothes off before pulling him into the sunken tub. "I can wash myself," the pale man says.

"Um, but think of how much more fun you'll have washing me instead. Come on; stop being such a jerk about this. You'd think you were five not nearly thirteen hundred. Besides, how are you ever going to convince me that you do know better if you act like a little obstinate shit?"

Thete raises an eyebrow, "Are you saying you want me to seduce you, Amadak?"

The ex-ranger snickers, "I don't know, Old Man. You still got it in you?"

That sounds like a challenge if he ever heard one. Thete picks up the flannel and moves over to the broader man, "Oh, I think we can find ways to figure that out." The washing happens with slow deliberation, and Richard discovers that the Time Lord has him a quite a disadvantage. The Doctor is able to peel away his mental and physical defenses layer by layer, leaving him feeling needy and raw, and that's using a flannel and soap. He's very careful to keep the touches along the lines of 'proper' by forcing the small cloth he is using to remain between his hand and the darker man's skin. But, oh… that hardly matters. Thete's had time to prefect his method, and could likely melt a heart made of ice and seduce the most prudish of souls into wanton disregard of any morals they might possess. And Richard is neither made of ice or a prude. By the time the older, more experienced man has lavished attention on the last spots of bronze skin – and who knew that he could feel that sort of tingle from having his spine touched? – Richard was about to fly out of his skin from that alone. All it would take was one caress that his mind could call sexual to do it. And he wants the Time Lord so badly.

Then the blue-eyed man smirks at him and offers him the tools necessary to get revenge – wash him – in return. The ex-ranger almost just forgoes the washing in favor of pushing the taunting alien up against the edge of the tub and showing him exactly how badly he desires him. But… that's too much like being in slam, too much like a one-off fuck, and that's not what he wants. Instead he forces himself to lather up the flannel and to slowly, attentively, wash the pale skin, pausing to rinse and kiss as he goes. He can't, no matter how he tries, keep the decorum that the Doctor could. And he can feel with each press of his lips to that cooler flesh the growing tautness of their bond. He lets his mental walls fall. It's hard enough to hold back his physical desires without struggling against his mental ones too. But he finds that it's not complete, even as their minds slide against each other, mingling, merging. It's not adequate to sooth the desire. It barely tempers the need.

He focuses on the physical. Thete knows he craves, the flare of desire is mirrored inside his own soul. Amadak slides his face, cheek, lips, temple, nose even, against the smooth, soft skin of the Time Lord's back. The other man turns in the tepid water as Richard plants open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder. It's extremely addictive; this lightly sweetened musk that rises off the cool skin. It's not overly long before he feels those strong hands on his sides, urging him closer. He wants to submerge himself in it, in the scent and taste and feel of this being he's with. The flannel floats away, forgotten, as their mouths connect. The Doctor's cooler lips control the kiss, deepening it, demanding, dominating. Showing what he wants. It's like an explosion, this contact, and Richard is hard pressed to remember which body is his, which one he's controlling, because he's inside both, entwined at a level deeper than he can ever remember being with anyone. Yet… it's natural, like it's meant to be. And he remembers the bond forged in his mind, his soul. He flows with it. Timeless. Open. One, yet three.

It's not sex, not a fuck, but it is passionate, this joining. He feels Verity there, on the edge of awareness, just enough to stabilize the grounding effect he has when there's skin on skin contact. So there's no romantic candles, no special set up, none of the trappings, and now that they are interconnected on this deep level Richard wonders why that was important to him. Being with another of his ilk makes all other erotic instances pale in comparison. He never knew what he was missing because he didn't remember it, and when he finds out who was behind him losing this he's going to cause them pain because he can't conceive ever willingly giving this up.

After exiting the tub they somehow manage to make it back to the bed before driving each other to the point of bliss. And really, with the explosive built up energy between them, it's amazing that they manage to make it that far. Richard opens his eyes and finds that he's entangled with Thete, a mass of arms and legs, sprawled over the pillows and comforter on the bed. He shifts and elicits a moan from the pale throat exposed because the Doctor is rather on top of him, with his head in an odd position. He kisses the smooth expanse and then impulsively nibbles at it as his hands slide over the cool body shamelessly following the planes and angles of it. "Ah, do you have any idea—"

Richard curls his hand over part of the Time Lord's anatomy that cuts off the words with a gasp. "Don't. Talking is bad, unless you're going to beg me for more," he whispers into the pale ear before he sets his teeth on it. He feels Thete's hands slide over his sides, settling against his hips. More, Amadak. Give me more. The mental brush tugs at the bond, even as Richard moves to grant the command. "Don't blame me if you can barely walk when this is over." His response is a movement that assists and leaves no doubt as to what Thete will let him do. Amadak doesn't even think of holding back. Why even try when they can fly together beyond anything else he's ever experienced?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They hear the others returning. Just three sets of footsteps. Is Rose not coming? This makes the Doctor move into the control room. He's redressed, sans jacket, in a very soft long sleeve black jumper and black slacks. Richard peers out behind him, once again in his tank and cargo pants, lightly settling a hand on the other man's back. The door is open, and Rose's voice drifts from the alleyway, "—until then, Thanks."

Her boyfriend says, "Thanks for what?"

There's a pause, then she responds, "Exactly." Her blonde form appears in the doorway as she backs up, a bag in one hand. It looks like she's coming with them. The relief and joy at the sight of her rolls off the Doctor in waves, and frankly Richard can't help but to feel it too. Thete leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, hands half hidden in the sleeves of his shirt. Rose turns and sees him. The smile on her face lights up the entire chamber.

"Well, come on, then," the Doctor says to her. She steps into the TARDIS and the door closed behind her. "River, where are we off too?"

"That is for Verity to decide. She says there's another that can help you, and a place where we, all of us, would be welcome. I was going to just go with that. Is that alright?"

She gets a grin, "Of course. Knowing some details about the when will help us know what to pack. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, but I do believe that we've all decided that not traveling by phone box for a while will do me good."

"2517, Blue Sun. Our time," River sounds surprised.

"Ah, but a good time, Saritha. Verity, we'll need Alliance credits and an established set of identities." Thete knows that this will be more difficult because of the long term nature of them being there, "Perhaps as a family? Simon and River need the cover if you plan on plopping them right back where they were fleeing from."

Of course this is a good idea, and Verity, while they are in the Vortex, lays the groundwork for the Smythe family, Doctor Jon Smythe and his children, Jacob, Saritha, and Simeon, his lover/spouse, Richard, and their friend/employee/mistress Rose. She'll let them handle the details as they desire. She then fixes the genetic readings to reflect the relationships and discovers that there's very little to alter with them, even Jack. Now she knows the child will be changed by being in the Doctor's biosphere, but to find key genes that are so similar so soon, well… that's strange. And for some reason it makes her sad. The only other time the Doctor had a companion like Richard was when he was with Jamie, and that was tragic.

Very tragic.

So who is Jack? She tries to trace back his timeline and comes up against a fractured wall, the product of the Time War. Why? Why is that there? Who has altered the boy's timeline? She's tempted to poke at the pieces to see what surfaces, but there's nothing that will prevent very bad repercussions to that action, so she leaves it alone. But she can't forget it. And she can't shake the feeling that the boy is connected with her Time Lord on a deeper level than anyone suspects. If only she could find proof of it. Verity is positive that the knowledge of something surviving the impossible cruelty of his time in captivity by the CIA would go a long way toward making him happy again.

She knows Thete's memories of that time are a knot inside his mind, filled with secrets, impossibilities, pain, and paradoxes. Eight hundred years she's left that alone. So long that he's forgotten it, but for a dull ache that he calls 'missing Jamie' but she knows it is deeper than that. He kept secrets from even her, during that lifetime because that was his nature. The face of a clown but the soul of a master manipulator. Things happened between he and his companion outside her walls that never transpired where she would know. Out of her sight, locked into his own mind, as if he knew that being caught doing what he was doing would cost him. He kept his heart closed to her, treating her as a friend, not a lover. And it did; she had a feeling that it cost him more than she would ever know.

It was only the next lifetime, when they were in exile that she became that close to him, taking the role of emotional and physical support to another level. And while he loved his human companions after that, he never let them get so close as to breach his emotional walls. Sarah Jane might have had a chance with him for a lasting relationship, and he would have willingly changed her to keep her with him, had it not been for the harsh lessons of his previous life. The pain of Jamie's loss stayed with him far longer than she expected it to. Only after Grace did he start to live again, and she suspected that it took him six lifetimes to finally forget the sharp edges of the pain, if not the agony itself.

Not to say that he didn't become involved with his own kind. There was Romana in both her forms, and she accepted what he would give, forming a set of ties with him that served as a safety net, but neither of them actually looked at the other as a lover. They were friends, allies, teacher and student, companions, yet both held their emotions in check and never crossed that 'forbidden' line. And there was Ace, whose bloodlines had been manipulated by another immortal through the ages. Her heart had been large enough and wild enough to make him love her, but again the line was never crossed, not that Verity would have been surprised if it had.

She looks again at the connections formed between Thete and Amadak. So strong, so enduring. Even with half or more of his identity ripped away, Richard maintains his Gallifreyan forged bond. It is beautiful to see it so strong. But as she follows it she encounters that jagged area of the Doctor's mind where his memories of the CIA are knotted up. Verity skirts past it, slipping down to follow the bond to its root, and just as Thete closes her out with a rebuke, she spots the tattered evidence of a previous bond, ripped and worn, alongside the formal wedding ties he had with Patience cut off neatly by her death. And she knows one of the reasons he was punished. He dared form a bond with a human and kept it secret. No wonder he's felt such great pain.

Now she wonders what happened during the time he was kept from her on Gallifrey before they were allowed to travel doing the CIA's bidding. All she knows for sure is that it aged him terribly, as if part of his soul was ripped away. She remembers how he hurt inside, even as he hid that pain from the restored Jamie. Their relationship was not the same after that parting, Verity knew. She'd chalked it up to Thete knowing that it was borrowed time, but what if … what if it had to do with the human genes from the fifty-first century that he'd gotten from his mother?

Surely the CIA hadn't been that cruel. But—what if they had?

As they pack to leave her, she tries to show her Time Lord the green-eyed boy's shattered past. Twice he brushes her aside, angered at her prodding into sensitive areas of his mind. But the third time he sees what she's trying to show him before he can push her away and it makes him freeze. He looks at Jack. The pain in his eyes raw again as the suspicion she has lodges in his mind. Pain and hope. Could it be? But who would have helped him? He had no memories of it, of any kindness during that time. But he was sure now that his role for the CIA was not for his own time's CIA but the Time War's incarnation. If thus, then he did have allies and it was possible that they tried to spare – no, he couldn't hang his happiness on false hopes after so long. Surely someone would have told him ages before this if it had been possible.

Unless they did it specifically so that he'd have something after the war. Which would mean someone knew he'd survive. He suspects Romana, instantly. Her connections with The Pythia and Kern through Leela and Andred meant she might have known. Her position of power meant she might have reached back or pulled him forward through time, and he'd never know. Unless she'd left behind something for him to unravel. He sways with the sudden grasp of something that he'd never understood before. He'd been manipulated into being the one at the apex of the blast, the last to go, the one destined to survive because all the power of the Time Lords washed back to him even as the backlash tried to destroy him. And Romana knew.

Verity follows the twisted reasoning in his mind, trying to see what secret he still holds so tightly that he refuses to shine any light on it. What happened? What was he trying to protect? And why did he think Romana would help him? She wants to beg him to tell her, but it's far easier for him to ignore her now that the Imprimaturs in River and Simon are active. She's going to have to work through Rose and River then, if she wants to learn the truth.

Richard suddenly is at his elbow, "Doctor?" He looks up and sees that that River and Rose are looking at him with identical slightly fearful expressions. Shaken he gives then a grin, a real one that reaches his eyes. He made a gamble by taking Romana into his confidence and molding her into his image and it seemed that perhaps that risk had paid off.

"I'm – ok. Really, Richard. I just realized something, is all." He opens his mind to Verity again, allowing her back into the tangles that are still sore and raw even after centuries. Verity knows he needs this, he needs the truth. And she knows the evidence she needs to safely give him that truth sits in the tangled knots of his memories. But they will have time to find the answers and deal with the pain.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

There always was something about Badger she didn't like. It went beyond his bad location, his thugs, and his sweltering noisy office. It even went beyond his trade of humans. She felt sorry for the young woman he was currently manhandling, not that it showed. She heard him finally pronounce, "Yes," before the woman was dragged back through the other passage, apparently meeting some standard or another for whatever use he had for her. Zoë tuned out the traffic noise and the periodic lights from the vehicles passing overhead as she brought her military training to bare. She watched the thug sit at his oversized thrice recycled desk and proclaim, "You're late."

Now Mal's not the best of diplomats, not when dealing with those he considers to be the enemy. Badger sits right on that line, unfortunately, "You're lying."

Zoë wants to punch her captain right about now, and it's only her respect for him as a friend that keeps her from doing so at this moment. She can tell that they've lost the deal, and that every cross word hurts them worse. Badger narrow his eyes, "What did you just say to me?"

"You're well aware we landed two hours 'fore we planned to, with all the goods you sent us after intact, ready to roll." Mal starts, "So your decision to get tetchy, say we're late, means you're looking to put us on the defensive right up front. Which means something's gone wrong. It didn't go wrong on our end, so why don't we start again with you tellin' us what's up?"

Badger changes his tune slightly, having been out-thought and not directly insulted. Instead he gives Mal the most malevolent tight smile Zoe's ever seen; "You're later than I'd like."

"Well," Mal looks thoughtful, and for him that means he's figured it out and now needs to know why, "I am sorry to hear that."

Its at this point that Badger holds up the official 'all-points' webcast showing a constant stream of headlines and data from across Blue Sun. He wiggles it, "If you'd gotten here sooner, you might've beaten the bulletin that came up sayin' a rogue vessel, classification 'Firefly', was spotted pulling illegal salvage on a derelict transport." He puts the very expensive item back on the desk.

"Didn't ID us. Doesn't lead to you," Mal says.

The crook tilts his head, "No, it doesn't." Then he gets up and moves closer, looking angered, "But a government stamp on every molecule of the cargo just maybe might." This makes Zoë start and look over at Mal. About five different colorful expletives fight for attention in her brain. She knew there was something wrong with the payload. Mal's face tightens ever so slightly and Badger picks up on it, "Oh, you noticed that. You were gonna hand over imprinted goods and just let me twist, is that the case?"

"We didn't pick the cargo."

Badger snaps back, "And I didn't flash my ass at the gorram law. There's no deal."

Normally she'd keep her mouth shut, really she would, but this asshole really makes her mad, and when she's mad she tends to be vocal about it, "That ain't fair."

The small man looks over at her, "Crime and politics, little girl: the situation is always... fluid."

She glares, and Jayne, motivated by something other than brains, jumps to insults, "Only fluid I see here is the puddle of piss refusing to pay us our wage." The reaction is immediately 'pissed off and armed' and of course both she and Jayne automatically go for their guns as well. Jayne actually half draws, while she just puts her hand on the handle. Mal fixes Jayne with his, 'put it away or I'll run you through the airlock' look until the gun-for-hire actually does re-holster the weapon.

That accomplished and the thugs back to 'at the ready but not yet shooting', Mal steps toward Badger and smiles, "It doesn't have to go this way. You know you can still unload those goods. So I can't help thinking there's something else at work here."

It would seem that Mal is right by the speech that Badger treats them to, "What were you in the war, that big war you failed to win? You were a Sergeant, yeah? Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds, Balls and Bayonets Brigade. Big tough veteran. Now you got yourself a ship and you're a captain. Only – I think you're still a Sergeant, see. Still a soldier, man of honor in a den of thieves." Zoë swallows as the crook manages to get in Mal's face, and seeing as Mal is taller that's quite a feat, "Well this is my gorram den, and I don't like the way you look down on me. I'm above you. Better than. I'm a businessman, see? Roots in the community. You? You're just a scavenger."

So this is about status, standing, and pecking order. For some reason Badger feels threatened by Mal. Maybe it's because Mal does get the job done when there's a job to be had. Maybe it's because Badger is scum. Or maybe it's because he's just chicken-shit. Either way, they still have a hold filled with cargo that they have to get rid of. Mal tries to flatter Badger, "Well, maybe I'm not a fancy gentleman like you with your... very fine hat... but I do business. We're here for business."

But the small time crime boss is finished with this, "Try one of the border planets – they're a lot more desperate there. Of course, they might kill you, but you stay here and I just know the Alliance'll track you down. I have that feeling."

So that's how he's gonna play it, if they don't scat fast he'll tip off the port police and Mal'll lose the ship. Fine. Even as Jayne would rather kill them all, Mal decides to find some other buyer. He turns to leave, "Wheel never stops turning, Badger." He'll get even, eventually.

"That only matters to the people on the rim," says the crook, not realizing that Mal will get revenge for this.