It was my birthday recently, and my husband asked me what I wanted for my birthday. Having been stalled in writing my fanfic, because Doctor Who is no longer on Amazon Prime and I couldn't reference the episodes I needed for the story, I knew exactly what I wanted...
"Can I get Doctor Who Season 1, so I can write my fanfic?"
He gaped at me in disbelief, then bowed his head into his hands.
"What?" I asked, bewildered by his reaction.
"Seriously," he said. "That's the thing you want for your birthday. To buy something. Not for the show itself, but so you can write your fanfiction."
Well, when he puts it like that...
"Yep!"
Now without further ado, please read and enjoy the reason for my husband's incredulity.
Zoe's eyes widened in recognition at seeing the man's outlandish thin rugby cap — there was no other way she could think to describe it — and the oval silver gemstone sitting in the middle of his forehead like an open target for a jewel thief. He had black markings on his cheeks and scattered on his neck. They stood out like seamless scars against the man's cerulean skin.
Honestly, his unique appearance made him a hard person to forget, even if it has been a few weeks since she'd seen this Doctor Who episode. This was the host for Earth's Death Day viewing. Somehow they'd arrived at the space shuttle viewing the Earth's destruction in the year 5 apple slash something - she was sure the Doctor would tell her the exact date later. Whatever year it was, she was pretty sure they traveled 5 billion years in the future, a far cry from 1971.
Peering over their blue alien host's shoulder, she could see an ostentatious banquet room had been prepared for the event - tables covered in white linen tablecloth with fancy centerpieces and a buffet table was set up along the farthest wall. Several guests dressed in formal wear were already there, sipping drinks and chatting idly in groups. Or at least she assumed they'd been chatting and drinking at leisure before they arrived. The room had gone utterly still at their sudden appearance, eyes and mouths, in all their alien variety, were openly gaping at them.
Someone coughed in the background, and the sound was amplified in the quiet. It seemed to stir the host into action.
"Who are you?" the man demanded, deep blue eyes shooting unspoken accusations at both the Doctor and Zoe for being unwelcome intruders. "This is a maximum hospitality zone and a private event. I should call for security."
At the mention of security, the Doctor hastily stepped out of the TARDIS, pulling Zoe with him, and closed the doors firmly behind him. After securing his ship, the Doctor plastered a confident grin on his face and spun on his heel to face their new acquaintance. "Why hello there, sorry we're late. Got the times mixed up, silly us." He dipped his hand into his leather jacket and pulled out his psychic paper to show off. "We're guests. Look I've got an invitation." The host stared intently at what Zoe could see was blank paper. "Look see, it's fine. The Doctor plus one. I'm the Doctor and this is Zoe Peyton. She's my plus one, is that alright?"
"Well, obviously," he said irritably. "I would apologize, but you are quite late, and ships are meant to be docked in the shipping bay. Teleportation is strictly forbidden on this platform."
The Doctor pretended to look contrite, and Zoe followed his lead, offering a guilty grimace. "We had no idea," she said.
"We didn't mean to land here, here," the Doctor followed up. "Our ship's target destination landing module hasn't been working quite right. It must have malfunctioned mid-landing. We were supposed to land in the shipping bay."
"We're sorry for any inconvenience," Zoe added hastily.
"Well, if it couldn't be helped," the host said, looking somewhat mollified. "But you'll need to take your ship elsewhere. It cannot stay here."
"Not a problem. I'll take care of it," the Doctor said to the host who nodded once before walking away, clapping his hands to get some of his smaller workers' attention, decked out in black bodysuits and helmets. They scurried around him and zipped off in the directions he pointed. Once the host was gone, he turned to address Zoe, all humor absent from his expression. "You and I are going to have a serious talk when I get back."
She scrunched her brows together. It almost sounded like he thought this was her fault. "About what?"
"You know exactly what," he said, but she didn't know. "I know I set the destination for October 1, 1971. Either the TARDIS intercepted my directions, or -"
"Or we needed to be here," she said.
The Doctor's eyes narrowed at her smug tone. "Maybe," he allowed, but he didn't sound like he believed it. "There's another more likely possibility."
"And that would be?"
"Later," he said, ducking back into the TARDIS only to pop his head back out to give her a stern look. "Now I know you think you know what's going to happen, but don't assume. Have fun, but be careful. I'll be back in a jiffy." With that, he shut the blue police doors in her face, and a couple wheezing-whooshes later, the TARDIS had disappeared from the platform, giving Zoe and a few other nearby guests a car-windows-down-hair-blown look.
With the TARDIS gone and their presence approved by the host, it was as if the volume had been cranked up, as chatter among the guests resumed. Most people went on as if nothing happened, though some curious glances were thrown her way. She hardly noticed, her gaze turned inward, unsure what to make of the Doctor's stern response.
She glanced to the left and was drawn short by the sight of the Earth looming outside the observation window. She wandered over to the glass and pressed her hands against it.
Had the Earth always shined so brightly? Even with the sun bearing down on the planet, sun flares lighting up the sky in giant bursts of flame, the Earth stood out brighter than the full moon ever had on a starry night back home. Maybe it was her knowledge this was the last day the Earth would turn on its axle that affected the way she saw it. Either way she thought the Earth looked tragically beautiful wrapped up in stars and darkness. A reflection she would have expected more from her dark and cynical detective, Amelia Tate, the FBI heroine of her murder mystery story. A novel-in-progress she'd been obsessively writing up until her introduction to Doctor Who.
At thinking about her creative writing for the first time since she woke up in Rose's bed, she dropped her head into her hands and groaned. All her story ideas, half-concocted plots, and ugly first drafts, gone just like that. If she never made it back home, she'd have to start writing everything from scratch.
Great. Just perfect.
A finger tapping her shoulder startled her from her melancholy, and she jumped at the unexpected touch.
"Oh, I'm sorry," a woman's pleasant voice said behind her. "I didn't mean to scare you. I only wanted to introduce myself."
Zoe turned and took in a surprised breath. Standing in front of her, and very much alive, was Jabe, the brave woman who had died assisting the Doctor in the show. And she would stay alive if Zoe had any say about it.
Jabe looked very pretty wearing a gold-crimson dress and a jewel encrusted upturned collar. It complimented her coffee skin and honey brown eyes. As one of the Forest of Cheem, she had the appearance of a tree, where hair would have been on a human, tree bark jutted up in elegant up-do with red star-shaped flowers growing at the top like a crown. It should have looked strange, but appeared natural and looked rather pretty.
"I couldn't help, but notice you and the gentleman you were with. My name is Jabe. May I ask your name?"
"Oh, Zoe," she said, reaching out to shake her hand, but let it fall back to her side when Jabe only studied it, seeming unsure what to do with such a gesture.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Oh-zoe."
"Oh, no," Zoe said, waving her hands back and forth. "My name's Zoe, just Zoe."
"I see," she said with polite interest, "and who was the gentleman you were with? What kind of ship was that? It looked like nothing I'd ever seen before."
Zoe remembered then how much interest Jabe had, had in the Doctor in the TV show. She hesitated, unsure how much she should say. "He's called the Doctor and that was his ship. He can tell you all about it himself when he gets back."
"Oh, I'll be sure to say hello to him then," she said, looking a little disappointed at how little she'd been told. "Well, just a moment. I'd like to give you one of our peace offerings." She looked over her shoulder and caught the attention of two other Forest of Cheem's attention. "My brothers," Jabe said as an offer of explanation. They were standing over to the side, listening patiently to a pudgy dark blue alien with a huge bulbous sized head, beady eyes, and stubs for legs. One of them was holding a tray with potted baby saplings, and Zoe realized they couldn't be that late, no matter what the host had said, if everyone was still exchanging peace offerings.
Seeing Jabe waving them over, the two Forest of Cheem made their excuses and handed over one of the potted saplings to the pudgy blue alien. Sitting the sapling on his lap, he was quick to return the brothers' peace offering with one of his own. He spat in both their faces. With a lazy grin, he rolled away on his motorized golden seat — Zoe thought it looked like a miniature throne on wheels — to no doubt to exchange gifts of peace.
"Who was that Lute?" Jabe said, addressing the taller of the two men. Unlike Jabe, Lute and his brother's face had the texture of bark, though it was even more pronounced in the other man with his pointed nose. It reminded Zoe strongly of Pinocchio.
"Mox of Balhoon," Lute said, wiping the spit from his face with the back of hand with a grimace. His voice was deep and rough and sounded exactly like what Zoe thought a tree would sound like on Earth if it could talk.
Jabe nodded and took a sapling from the tray. "This is Zoe from..." she trailed off, realizing she never asked where Zoe came from.
"Another Earth," she said, feeling that wasn't too far from the truth. The Earth outside the window was no longer the same one she knew.
"Another Earth," Jabe said. "How interesting. They're always recreating Earths. First New, New Earth, now Another Earth. We ought to make a point to visit one to see what the fuss is about."
"I quite like it there," she said. "I've never really been anywhere else though, so I'm not sure if that says much."
"First time leaving home?" Jabe asked.
"Something like that."
Jabe nodded, seeming to sense she wouldn't get any more information than that and offered the sapling. "Here, our gift of peace. I give you a cutting of my grandfather."
"Oh, how lovely. Thank you," she said, and wracked her brain for what to give her, then remembered what the Doctor had done in the show. "Um, I give you the breath from my lungs."
She leaned forward and exhaled in Jabe's face, blushing as she did so. She hoped her breath smelled okay. It's not like she got to brush her teeth after coming out of stasis.
Jabe understandably looked taken aback, but to Zoe's surprise, regained her composure fast and gave Zoe an appraising look from head to toe. Zoe had the odd feeling of being checked out. "How intimate," Jabe said, her smile almost flirtatious.
Zoe shuffled on her feet, feeling heat blossom in her cheeks. Out of all the ways Jabe could have reacted, this was not what she'd expected. Wasn't she supposed to be into the Doctor? "I apologize if it was too forward."
"Not at all," Jabe said, giving her one last long look that seemed to invite future acts of forwardness before leaving with her brothers who both gave her curious looks.
Zoe rubbed her burning cheeks and hurried over to the refreshments table with the potted plant tucked awkwardly under her arm. She didn't know what kind of drinks were being offered, but something cool and refreshing sounded really nice right then. She zipped by the other guests and spotted Cassandra in the furthest corner, a stretched span of pale skin and lipstick, looking very much like a human trampoline, as her helpers continuously moisturized her. She couldn't make out what she was saying, but her girlish-waspish voice carried over the din.
Hovering along the opposite wall, appearing weightless and forbidding in their velvet black cloaks were the Adherents of the Repeated Meme. She slowed her pace somewhat to study them, wondering if they had handed out their "gifts of peace" yet. She searched the room and sure enough she spotted the silver balls in the other guests' hands, harmless in appearance, but hiding deadly spider-bots within. At least that was the case in the show.
She frowned, remembering the Doctor's warning not to assume things would be the same. Though she couldn't fully trust her memory, she was pretty sure there hadn't been such a formal setting as this.
The fine dining and alcohol were definitely new. She stared down at the silver punch bowl, brimming with smoking green liquid that smelled like granny apples and spirits. Next to it were crystal glasses that scattered rainbows onto the white tablecloth. The glasses were prisms, she realized, breaking down the light into colors their eyes could perceive.
People were now making their way to and from the buffet table with their plates loaded up. The scent of roasted turkey and mashed potatoes filled her nostrils, and her stomach growled, a loud, obnoxious sound that drew a couple's attention nearby. She was startled to realize she was starving and wondered how she hadn't noticed that fact sooner. She'd been in stasis for an entire week after all.
She switched her attention from the suspicious green liquid to the buffet of Earth comfort foods. She set down the potted tree sapling on a nearby table, so she could grab a crystal plate. Unsurprisingly, it also broke down light into swirling colors on the floor. She then snatched up a funny looking silver spork that had tiny buttons trailing down its handle. She pressed a button experimentally, and the spork morphed into a deep spoon, ideal for eating soup. Cool.
Squeaking, rolling wheels just behind her had her turn halfway to see Cassandra. Close up, she could see how wound tight and stretched thin her skin was fitted to a rectangular frame. The transparent sheen of her skin, allowed veins to stand out, branching out like delicate, pulsing tattoos. Though that wasn't what caught her eye. It was the very, very light scarring — it was so minimal and slight, no one would know it was there if weren't for the way her skin tone shifted and seemed to…change color?
Long stretches of skin were ivory while others were beige or porcelain. The tones were close enough to each other it wasn't that noticeable. But once you saw it, you couldn't unsee it either. She could see where the different skin tones blended into each other like an artist smudged the edges.
Here we go again, Zoe thought. Another thing different from the show. Only this change made a lot of sense. At least it did to Zoe. If Casandra was always getting plastic surgery, wouldn't she need skin transplants eventually? Though she supposed that led to some awkward question like where she was getting skin donors.
Before she could wander down that rabbit hole, Cassandra's two minions joined her side, drawing Zoe's attention. They were wearing white bodysuits, shaded ski goggles and looked more ready to handle chemical waste than spray lotion - Water? What did they spray on her, anyways? - on her skin.
Zoe raised an eyebrow and considered the food in front on the buffet table. Could Cassandra even eat food? She may have a mouth, but she lacked an entire digestive system. And now that her mind was on that train of thought, she pondered how Cassandra can think without a brain...or how she can have blood to bleach when she doesn't even have a heart to pump blood through the veins...
How was she even functioning?
"You, girl. You made quite the dramatic entrance arriving like you did. What's your name?"
Zoe suppressed a grimace and barely contained an eye roll at the skin-on-wheels' envious tone. "It wasn't on purpose, if that's what you're thinking. My name is Zoe, but I already know who you are. Cassandra."
"I see my reputation precedes me," she said, painted scarlet lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk. "I am the last pure human after all. I was born down there, you know," her eyes flicked to the observation window where the Earth could be seen, as if there could be any doubt what she had meant by down there, "I was a little boy then, living in a house my Mommy and Daddy built in - "
"Los Angeles, right. I remember," Zoe interrupted, not wanting to listen to her life history. She remembered that odd bit at least. She really didn't want to listen to her jabber on about how many operations she had to look like a piece of stretched skin.
Zoe made a show of loading up her plate with mashed potatoes and realized most of the food laid out for the event were traditional items you'd find on a Thanksgiving table spread on Earth. She spotted stuffing, glazed ham, along with the turkey she'd smelled earlier, though everything was mislabeled. The nameplate underneath the ham labeled it as chicken and the mashed potatoes were called scrambled eggs.
"Have you been looking into me?" Cassandra asked, forcing Zoe to look up at her. The last humans' dark blue eyes were narrowed into suspicious slits and were regarding Zoe as if she were a dangerous nemesis. They also looked her up and down in a calculating way that Zoe couldn't quite interpret. If she didn't know any better, she'd think Cassandra liked what she saw. Which was too weird and strange to be anything but a trick of her imagination, so she simply disregarded it.
"Don't be absurd," Zoe said with a roll of her eyes. "Your reputation precedes you, remember?" She didn't bother to suppress her biting sarcasm, but then she paused, recognizing an opportunity to test how much of this reality matched what she remembered. She bought herself a little time to mull it over, as she served herself up a piece of pumpkin pie mislabeled as orange jello.
"Actually Cassandra, you're right," she said before amending with a slight shrug, "in a way." She looked over to see Cassandra trembling, her stretched skin vibrating with barely contained tension. It was doubtless one of the strangest sights she'd ever seen, if not slightly off-putting. She looked away quickly less she lose her recently regained appetite. "I know what you're up to Cassandra. I know the Adherents are your puppets, and their gifts of peace are anything but peaceful."
Cassandra glanced left then right, seeming to make sure no one was listening in. "How dare you insinuate...Boys, moisturize me, moisturize me!" At her agitated, shrill command, 'her boys' rushed to mist her skin, and Zoe covered her food with her hand to keep whatever that foul smelling liquid was from making contact with it. Thankfully, the mist never reached her.
The act of being moisturized seemed to have calmed her somewhat. Her voice was more controlled when she continued. "You're going to need to be more specific. What exactly do you think I'm up to?"
Zoe allowed herself a small smirk, deciding Cassandra's plans couldn't be too different from what happened on the show or she wouldn't have had such a strong reaction when she mentioned the Adherents and their gifts of peace. "Wouldn't you like to know? If you don't mind, I'm really hungry and would like to eat now."
Cassandra pursed her lips, eyes skating over her full plate with obvious disdain. "Are you sure you want to eat all that? You could do with losing some weight. You have a bit of chin poking out there."
"I rather like my chin. It gives me character," Zoe said, walking away before Cassandra could get another word in.
She hurried to the first empty table she could see and set her stacked plate down on the table a little harder than she meant to. She plopped herself into the silver folding chair and forced herself not to sag. The confrontation with Cassandra had sapped her energy reserves more than she would like to admit. Her stomach gave another loud grumble, making its complaints known. She dutifully picked up the strange utensil, still on the soup spoon setting, and used it to scoop up a generous amount of mashed potatoes.
Right as she was about to shove the delicious combination of starch and butter in her mouth, a hand clasped over hers, halting the loaded spoon before it could pass her lips. "Woah there, girlie. Trust me when I say you do not want to eat that."
A snarky retort rose up in her throat that she did in fact want to eat that, but the words died in her throat at the unexpected sight of an extremely handsome Captain Jack Harkness smirking down at her. His dark brown hair had a just-rolled-out-of-bed look, roguishly stuck-up in all the right places. He wore a crisp navy blue button up underneath an ankle-length smoky gray RAF greatcoat, complete with brass buttons. And to top it off, his clear blue eyes were twinkling mischievously at her.
"Jack? What are you doing here?" Zoe asked. She was so alarmed at his presence, she didn't even realize she wasn't supposed to know who he was yet. She was too startled at the thought he could run into the future version of himself, the Face of Boe, who she knew was supposed to be here on the shuttle. "Should you even be here right now?" She searched the room for his future counterpart and was deeply unsettled when she realized the Face of Boe was nowhere to be found on the observation deck. Though she was confused at seeing two Adherents of the Repeated Meme swiftly backing away, seeming to turn around at the last second, as if their desired path had been thwarted.
Jack leaned forward then, effectively regaining her attention and making her forget all about Cassandra's lackeys, and propped up his chin on his hand to gaze at her. "Oh Zoe, the things you say to me." He plucked the spoon from her hand and pointed it at her like an accusing finger. "And I knew you had met me before I met you!" Then he dropped the spoon onto the table, uncaring that the mashed potatoes splattered on the otherwise pristine white tablecloth.
"You were always so mysterious and secretive, Zoe. I wonder if that's why I like you so much. Well, I'm determined to get to the bottom of you, figuratively and literally." He winked and gave her a suggestive smile.
When the meaning of his words sunk in, she was sporting a blush as bright as the sun flares outside the observation deck windows. This was somehow so much worse than Jabe's coy smile earlier. "Jack!"
"You know you love me, or you will anyway." Jack's eyes flickered down to her shirt, lingering on the word CLEVER. It happened to be sitting right over her breasts. "I know I'm loving the shirt."
By this point, Zoe's eyebrows had risen so high on her forehead, they were in danger of disappearing beneath her hairline. She decided a change of subject was needed, and it was needed five minutes ago. She pointed at what would have been her meal. "Why can't I eat this?"
Jack gave her an incredulous look. "Didn't the fact they don't know the difference between a vacuum and a television give you a clue?" He gestured to the Earth artifacts on display around the room. "What makes you think they even know what Earth food is supposed to taste like? No, trust me. Eating that would be akin to eating arsenic." As if to punctuate his statement, a neighboring alien guest seated at the table across from them started to choke on a bite of pumpkin pie, gagging on it and making disgusted faces. "See what I mean?"
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Ah, getting right down to business, I see," Jack said. "I wanted to see you, and I knew you would be here. You'd told me all about your misadventure here."
Zoe sat straight in her chair, pushing her plate aside regretfully and ignoring her empty stomach. She'd just have to eat later on the TARDIS. "So you know what's going to happen?"
"Yes and no," Jack said.
"What does that mean?"
"It means I know what I've done, need to do to avoid a paradox," Jack said, "but there's still room for…improvisation." He waggled his eyebrows at her playfully at this. "Meaning I can still do what I want, when I want. And I know one thing I'm going to do right here, right now." Before she could ask what he meant by that, he leaned forward and kissed her right on the mouth. His lips felt warm against hers. The kiss was little more than a chaste peck and was over faster than she would have liked, not that she'd ever admit that to herself.
She covered her mouth, fingers lingering over her tingling lips. Her hazel green eyes wide with astonishment. "You...you just stole my first kiss!"
A fact she kept close to her chest over the years. Dating hadn't exactly been a priority. None of the boys she had bothered to go on a few dates with could ever keep her interest. Definitely none of them kiss-worthy. They were just so plain and ordinary. They had no ambition, no sense of adventure. All they wanted in life was to go to good college, get a good job and retire at 65 with a sizable monthly social security check. Just the thought of settling into that sort of life made her squeamish.
Jack winked at her teasingly, but his eyes had a knowing gleam. He knew she'd never been kissed before! "My, my, so innocent, Zoe. Your first kiss you say. Would you like another?"
Jack starts to lean toward her again, and Zoe froze in her seat, torn between moving out of the way and letting the kiss happen. His lips were an inch from hers when a hand came out of nowhere, shoving Jack's face back away from hers. "Oi! Watch where you aim those lips. Who knows where they've been."
"Ah, Doctor. I wondered where'd you gone," Jack said, smiling easily up at the aggravated Time Lord, though there was a hard glint to his eyes Zoe didn't expect to see there. "I was just chatting with the lovely Zoe here."
"That didn't look like talking to me," the Doctor said with narrowed eyes. He had positioned himself between Zoe and Jack, so she had to peer around his back to see the Captain.
"What can I say? Zoe has irresistible charm," Jack said and winked at Zoe again. She rolled her eyes, but a silly smile broke through onto her face. She found his charm difficult to resist. Seeing her reaction, Jack grinned, looking a little too pleased with himself. He tilted his head, looking at the Doctor and added, that unforgiving gleam she'd noticed earlier returning to his eyes, "I know you've noticed."
The Doctor tensed, his shoulders drawing back into rigid planes, as he stared Jack down. Whether he was reacting to the challenge in Jack's voice or the implication in his words, Zoe couldn't be sure. "I don't know who you are," he said with false calm, "but I think its high-time you went back to wherever it is you came from. Go on now, off with you!" He made a shooing motion with his hands.
"Doctor, wait," Zoe said, hurrying to her feet. "This is Captain Jack Harkness. He knows us both from the future, and he's my..." she hesitated, Jack's forward behavior and kiss confusing her on what exactly their relationship was in the future. "My friend," she decided aloud, "Yours, too, if you give him a chance."
The Doctor swiveled to face her then, incredulous fury on his face. "Friend? I didn't realize friends kiss each other. Should I be disappointed I haven't been greeted with a kiss then?"
"I'd sooner kiss a Slitheen," Jack said, sparing Zoe from having to respond, "but that's me now. My younger self though, when he meets you for the first time, he might be open to a kiss if you ask him."
"I don't believe this," the Doctor said, rubbing a hand down his face and giving Zoe an indecipherable look. Again she had the strongest impression he was holding her responsible for this new development. "He's a time traveler, too?"
"He's right here," Jack said irritation grating his voice. "And yes, I'm a time traveler. I have this bad boy right here." He pointed at his wrist where the vortex manipulator rested.
The Doctor threw his hands up in the air. "Of course, he's a time traveler! And he's rather pretty. Is that how you like them?"
Now Zoe was just confused and glanced at Jack, who didn't seem at all surprised by the Doctor's behavior. Without knowing she was doing it, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at the Time Lord. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"I'll tell you what it means," Jack said before the Doctor could answer, a wry smile on his chiseled face that didn't reach his eyes. "He thinks you created me."
Duh, duh, duh! Until next time on Zoe, Not a Rose...Thanks for reading, and as always, please review! I read all your reviews and appreciate them immensely.
By the by, you may be interested to know that Jack Harkness' appearance in this chapter blindsided me. (As did the kiss!) This chapter was a struggle to write until he arrived. Then it seemed to write itself after that. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
And Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate the holiday (I do). Stay safe and have fun!
Just as an FYI, I've decided to discontinue asking questions at the end. I've gotten mixed responses to them, so I'm just going to nix them until further notice.