Disclaimer:ah, you know I don't own them. Yet.
Breif: just a random fic that reallywouldn't go out of my head. Please Read, enjoy and review-need all the help I can get!
Chapter 1- The collector makes his move.
Scene 1: a house, north London, July 2005.
"Marianne! Where are you, girl?"
The old lady helped herself down the stairs- at the age of nearly 75, it was hard to get down them now. A smaller, dark-haired girl wearing nothing but her dressing gown and pyjamas appeared in the door way, hair a mess and TV remote in hand.
"Yes, Gran? I'm here. What's the matter?"
"Lord girl, look at ya! Such a state- I never seen nothing like it at the height of the war! When I was your age…"
"You'd already my uncle Jamie and were looking after orphans during the blitz. Yes, I know."
Nancy shook her head at the smirk on her granddaughter's face. "Get us some tea, child. Are you going to work today or what?"
"I'm working later" she shouted back. She was 18 years old, looking to go to uni in September to study law. Nancy was so proud- and she knew her mother would have been too. Such a good girl. Shame she was the only one- bless Jamie, he was never well enough after…what happened. Or did it? Nancy had always put it down to old age…
Marianne came in and gave her her tea, and a hug. "Thanks love."
Scene 2: Cardiff, 1859.
Gwyneth poured the tea for the guests. There was a terrible plague on the city, they had never known it so busy. So sad. Yet, she had known about it before…seen it all happened, the death, the devastation. Of course she told no-one. Who would listen to a poor servant girl? Even if she did have the 'Sight', or some such poppycock.
"Gwyneth?"
"Coming sir".
Scene 3: a battle ship, somewhere near the far rings of Saturn, 5200.
"Oh, you think you're so clever do you?"
Jack laughed manically, both guns blazing. Since Rose and the Doctor had abandoned him, he had travelled the universe, time and space at his disposal. Slept where, and with whomever, he pleased. Shot who he liked. Fought in many major intergalactic wars. So he wasn't good enough for them, huh? He'd show them. He was his own person- and was loving it.
"TAKE THAT JERK!" His American accent echoed through the corridor of the battle cruiser...another two dead. He didn't count anymore- why bother? He couldn't feel anything but pain anyway.
Flash- a bright white light, which burnt through time and space.
In 21st century London, a tea mug smashed on the floor…
In 19th century Cardiff, guests screamed as a girl disappeared…
In 53rd century Saturn, two guards are spared their lives…
The rest is silence.
Until a mobile bleated out its tinny version of Glenn Miller, somewhere in time and space…