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Chapter Sixteen: The Other Mozart

Part Two

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We spent the first hour or so wandering the streets, visiting booths and window shopping. While enjoyable, it seemed like the Doctor was dead set on confusing me, his personality being roughly the polar opposite of the borderline cruel indifference that it was when we left China; looping an arm around my waist and hugging me to his side protectively when we pushed through a crowd, laughing and cracking jokes like we were the best of friends; cowing a drunk man, who thought it was a good idea to hurl vulgar comments in my general direction, with a glare that would've caused hell to freeze over.

I lost track of him at one point and he showed up ten minutes later with a pretty bracelet with steel beads in the shapes of small flowers, which he slipped on my wrist with a shy smile.

I knew that I should be appreciative of his sudden change of heart, but was I finding it difficult to keep up with his sudden mood swings. It didn't help that I was still angry and wanted to hate him, which was extremely hard to do when he was actively being sweet and dopey.

My mind could help but recall our first meeting; how quick he had been to anger to the point of violence in the alleyway; how fast his temper had flared when Rose got upset about Mickey; his barely contained fury when he encountered Major whatshisface; the look in his eyes when he shoved me away from him in the console room after I startled him out of whatever mental state he had been in.

Threatening to leave me behind was just the latest glimpse of the rest of the iceberg hidden in the watery depths, and there was no way it would be the last.

Not that I thought for a second that he was by any means a violent person. Because he wasn't, not by a long shot. What he was, though, was unstable, maybe even spiraling, and for the first time I found myself wondering at how safe I really was with him.

Not that those thoughts lasted very long. I didn't think he would actually try to hurt me, but I was starting to feel like someone had tied me behind a horse, like they would sometimes in movies; bound to a creature much more powerful than me with no way of knowing when it would be docile, and when it would buck and gallop away, leaving me to try and run behind it until my legs have out and I was dragged to my death.

I came into this universe thinking I had a fairly decent understanding of the Doctor, but now it was obvious that my knowledge fell short. This version of the Doctor had never really displayed signs of being mentally unstable in the show, had he?

I couldn't think of anything, but an idea had bubbled to the surface of my mind.

"How old are you, now?" I asked the Time Lord, who was rifling through a paper someone was trying to get him to buy.

"Dunno, exactly," he mused distractedly. "Haven't thought about it in a while. Not quite nine 'undred yet, I don't think. Close, though. Why?"

"Just curious."

He was nine hundred when Rose started traveling with him. How much time passed for him in the show between leaving Rose and coming back for her at the end of the first episode? I knew that my presence was changing things, but what about the stuff I didn't know? How long would he have spent traveling within those five seconds? What happened to him while he was off on his own? Most importantly, how different of a person was he from the moment he left to the point he came back?

Guess I would find out.

I was still worried, and scared, and angry, but I was finally starting to regain some of my analytical mindset. I could pretend to be happy for a bit.

Vienna was beautiful, and it was fascinating to listen to the Doctor explaining the history of the city as we went. Might as well make the best of it.

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I had let go of the Doctor's arm to study some glass figurines in a window when someone knocked into me hard from behind. Not as steady on my feet as I normally might be, what with the low heels and cumbersome dress screwing with my center of gravity, I found myself tumbling over with a startled squeak.

Thankfully, I fell forwards, so I was able to catch myself and not bang my head on anything.

"Terribly sorry, Madam!" A man's frantic voice reached my ears.

I scoffed moodily and tried to pick myself up, which was difficult on account of the dress.

"Oi!" The Doctor's voice came next, and I found myself being picked up by the waist and set neatly back on my feet.

Now upright, I got a good view of the man that had run into me. He was on the older end of middle aged, with a white wig and clean shaven face. He was obviously rather agitated, from the way his thin hands fidgeted at his sides.

"I'm so dreadfully sorry, madam," the man repeated, looking guilty. "I'm afraid I failed to look where I was going. I hope you haven't been injured."

The Doctor, who had been the one to pick me up, bushed off my dress a bit. "Alright, Buff?"

I examined my scraped and stinging hands before shrugging and dusting them off against each other. "I think I'll live."

Satisfied that I was alright, the Doctor turned on the other man. "What's the hurry, mate?"

"Sorry, Sir, Madam, but I'm afraid I am in a hurry, and have urgent business to attend to…"

The Doctor, upon noticing how upset the man was, both softened and perked up at the idea of anything urgent. "Anything we can help with?"

The man opened his mouth to say no, but hesitated. I could practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes. Whatever it was, he must be fairly desperate to be considering the help of two complete strangers.

"I'm looking for my son," he admitted after a moment. "He's been missing since yesterday evening. He is but twelve years of age."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "That's not that young. Maybe he's just off with his mates. Young lads will do that now and then."

"Perhaps," the man admitted, "but the circumstances surrounding his disappearance are… odd, to say in the least."

"Have you talked to the police?" I inquired, brushing the remaining dirt from my dress.

"No. I'm afraid that… that is not an option at the present."

"Why not?" The Doctor pressed. "If you're worried something's happened to him, you should report it."

The guy got a bit huffy at that."Excuse me, but you are…?"

"The Doctor. And this is my companion, Miss Buffy Reid."

"Doctor what?"

"Doctor… John Smith," The Doctor relented, evidently deciding it was easier to give him the alias. "But everyone always calls me 'the Doctor'."

"Not from around here, I presume?"

"Nope!" The Doctor grinned. "We're travelers, from all over the place."

The man pursed his lips thoughtfully, clearly debating on whether or not to give us his own name. "Leopold Mozart," he decided, extending his hand for the Doctor to shake.

The Doctor looked a tad surprised, but hid it well, beaming away while he shook Leopold's hand eagerly. "Nice to meet you. And your son's name is…"

"Wolfgang," Leopold sighed. "Seeing as you're travelers, I suppose you know of my family."

"Might 'ave heard it once or twice," The Doctor said with a wolfish grin. "Will your children be performing soon?"

"Ideally, tomorrow night." Leopold frowned once more. "Which is why I have not yet informed the police. News of Wolfgang's disappearance would spread quickly, and perhaps put off rather important guests. Naturally, if something had happened to him, I would prefer to find him. But if he is simply off on his own accord… a chaos, delay or cancelation of the performance would be seen as a disgrace."

"Don't wanna lower your ratings," the Doctor summarized.

"Yes, so I expect this conversation to be purely between us," he said sternly.

"Oh, of course," the Doctor said seriously. "More than that, you've bumped into the right people." The Doctor brought out the psychic paper and held if out for the man to examine. "Private Investigator. Miss Reid here is my assistant. We'd be happy to help."

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That's how I ended up at the temporary residence of the Mozart family. It was all a bit surreal. In 1768, the family was already famous. The Doctor had given me a crash course on the way over, seeing as while I was familiar with the name and some of the music, I was at a loss for literally anything else on the subject.

Basically, Leopold Mozart was the dad and he was big in the music business at the time (I did say crash course), and at this point in time, had been teaching his two children, Maria Anna and Wolfgang to be amazing at music. Wolfgang, obviously, was the one everyone in the future would be referring to when they said 'Mozart'. But for now, he was twelve, and currently on tour.

Now, we were standing in Leopold's study, surrounded by squashy green chairs and various piles of sheet music and instruments.

"Now," The Doctor pressed, "what makes you think Wolfgang has been taken?"

Leopold's eyes flickered over to me. "Sir, this story can be found quite distressing. Perhaps Miss Reid could wait with my daughter while we speak."

I turned my head to see a young woman of about my age appear in the doorway, evidently having been expected to be summoned.

"Nonsense," The Doctor scoffed. "She can hear anything I can."

"I'm afraid I must disagree," Leopold said more firmly. "It is a widely known fact that members of the fairer sex are more prone to… let's say… fits, when exposed to objects of a more crude nature."

I could feel my blood starting to boil.

"With all due respect," the Doctor argued, matching Leopold's tone, "If I thought Miss Reid couldn't handle hearing about tough situations, I wouldn't have employed her."

"It's okay," I cut in before Leopold could argue further. "I'll go."

"Buff…" The Doctor started, but I shook my head.

"It's fine. I'm sure I can find something to do." I turned and made for the door, but paused to say, "And I know you'll just tell me everything he says later anyway."

The Doctor smiled a bit at that.

I followed Maria Anna down the hall and into another room that was a lot like the study we just left, except the chairs were blue. In the corner of the room sat a small piano with sheets of music stacked up on and around it. On the small sitting table were two cups of freshly poured tea.

"Do you like sugar?" Maria Anna asked, sitting down at the far side of the table and picking up the container of sugar.

"Uhh, sure," I said, easing down opposite of her.

"You said your name was Miss Reid?"

"Yeah." I accepted the teacup. "But you can call me Buffy."

She smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you. Everyone calls me Nannerl."

"That's a neat nickname."

"Are you from London?"

"Yeah. Though I haven't been back there in a while."

"And you travel with Doctor Smith?"

"Yeah. He just prefers to be called Doctor, though."

"Just the two of you?" She prompted.

The tea was still hot. I forced myself not to wince when the liquid scalded my tongue."Yeah."

"Not to be crass, but is he your beau?"

I had to blink at her for a moment before I recalled exactly what a beau was. "No. No!" I sputtered. "Definitely not."

She gave me a doubtful look. "Really?"

"Absolutely."

She shrugged and added more sugar to her tea. "It just seems a bit odd to be traveling with a man you are not related to. I thought perhaps you were engaged."

"Uhm. No. It's not like that."

Nannerl smirked shyly. "He's a bit handsome though."

I laughed. "I mean, I guess. But I don't think that it would ever happen."

"I don't know. It seems like he holds you in high respects. That's more than most women get."

"Then 'most women's' standards are dismally low."

We lapsed into silence. Nannerl appeared to be lost in thought, her brow furrowed and eyes pensive as she continued to sip at her drink.

"I heard that you are a fantastic musician," I offered, trying to fill in the awkward gap.

She jumped on the opportunity. "Would you like me to play for you?"

I beamed. Music from a real, living Mozart? "Yes, please!"

Nannerl grinned and hurried over to her piano, dumping the stacks of sheet music piled up on the bench unceremoniously to the floor. She poised herself over the keys and looked back at me expectantly.

"What would you like?"

I blanked, not really knowing any classical music beyond the basics. "Err... something that you wrote."

The young woman thought for a moment, and began to play. I had never had much affinity for classical music, but I suppose that's the difference between listening to something remotely and getting a live performance. Nannerl's fingers danced along the keys with artistic precision, causing music to curl into the air like a living creature. It was a beautiful, light melody, reminding me of birds singing on a warm spring day.

When the last notes had faded, the musician turned to me expectantly. "What do you think?"

"Wonderful," I praised. "Really, really amazing."

She blushed slightly at the compliment. "You're kind. Do you play music?"

I shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I tried to learn how to play the piano when I was younger, but I gave it up for… other stuff." I had too many honors classes and couldn't fit it into my schedule. "I still love listening to it, though."

Nannerl nodded. "I can understand that. I've dedicated myself to music my entire life, but now it seems that I am also going to have to, as you say, 'give it up'."

"Why?"

Nannerl looked down at her hands. "My father says I can no longer perform like my brother does. Tomorrow is going to be the last time I perform in front of an audience."

I gawked, scandalized on her behalf. "What? Why?"

"I'm old enough to marry, now," she explained as if it were obvious. "So there's no point in being distracted from it."

"That's a load of crap." I scoffed. "You have a wonderful gift. You can't just throw that away because you're a girl."

"My father forbids it."

"So? You're a grown up. You can make at least some of your own decisions."

She smiled sadly. "You sound like my brother."

"Then your brother is onto something."

"What my daughter does or doesn't do isn't your concern."

Both Nannerl and I flinched as the new voice sounded behind us. We turned to see Leopold standing in the doorway with an unpleasant expression. "I would watch your tongue, if I were you. Women that talk too much often find themselves in trouble."

Nannerl looked away guiltily, as if she had been caught conspiring against her father. I, on the other hand, bristled.

"Yeah. My tongue." I snipped, glowering in the man's direction. "My possession. Meaning I get to decide what I do with it. And if I want to use it to talk, I can."

Leopold glared at me for a moment, but didn't argue further. "The Doctor asked me to inform you that he thinks he has a lead about my son's whereabouts, and will be back shortly."

"So he just left?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes. He also said to tell you to 'not wander off'."

I sighed in irritation. "Of course he did. Did he say where he was going?"

"No. He did not."

I groaned and scrubbed at my eyes wearily. I hated it when he did that, both on the show and in real life. The companion always had to go and find him before he did something stupid. I supposed I would have to do the same.

"So, what exactly did you tell him?" I demanded.

A slightly cruel smirk curled onto his features. "Sorry, Miss Reid. But I also own a tongue, And I choose to use it as I please. You are welcome here until the Doctor returns." And with that, he vanished back into the rest of the residence.

I glared after him moodily. "No offense, Nannerl, but your dad's a jerk."

"He isn't usually this bad," she tried to placate. "He can be quite kind. Wolfgang's disappearance has him on edge."

"That doesn't explain why he's so determined to keep you from staying with your music career."

"That's just the way it is," she shrugged. "I'm a woman. I'm to find a respectable husband and rear children. I won't stop composing, but I can't make a career with it as my brother will. My father loves me, and just wants what's best."

"That's not good enough!" I snapped. "You can do whatever you want. Stand up to him! Tell him you aren't ready to quit yet. If he loves you, he won't stop you from doing what you love."

Nannerl must have agreed with me to some extent, because she was becoming increasingly agitated, fidgeting in her seat and fussing with the hem of her sleeve. "No. I can't. I won't go against his wishes. He's my father."

I sighed, knowing I wasn't going to get anywhere with her. She'd already decided that her father's word was law. "Just think about it, okay? You're a genius. It would be a shame if your talent went to waste."

The young woman tried a smile. "It won't. You enjoy it, don't you? That's good enough for me."

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Responses to Reviews:

RandomFandoming ; That's Balderdash ; PrincessMagic : Thank you guys so much! Love ya'll!

crzychigurl343 : I know exactly what you mean. I was having trouble writing the dialogue for that bit, so it turned out a lot clumsier than I meant it to. But I also Intended for him to be more abrasive and less considerate than he usually might be. I'm writing it with the interpretation that the Doctor is several years younger than he was when he started travelling with Rose, and therefore much closer to the Time War. The point is that I'm trying to write him as unstable, because I have some upcoming plot points that, in order to make sense, have to have some already existing instability on his part. I did go back and rewrite the part where he argued with her, but I probably need to rewrite it again. Thanks for bringing it to my attention, as I'm always concerned about keeping him in character. Thanks for reviewing! :)

bookbunnyx : Thank you! I'm glad they're interesting to read, because they aren't to write. I will get to the episodes eventually, but I'll throw in originals with them. When I do start writing the episodes, I'll end up butchering them for my own purposes, and only really include the bits where Buffy has stuff to add. Thanks for reading!