"Oh, come on, Darwin," Lucas said, laughing. "You have to get the ball and push it back to me."
Darwin clicked his response, which became, "Get it yourself," over the speakers, and somehow still managed to sound like a smug retort.
Lucas smirked and did so, swimming over to grab the ball. "You know that's not the point of the game, right?"
"I daresay he has more fun seeing you fetch the ball than fetching it himself," Dr. Westphalen commented as she entered the room and made her way over to the moon pool.
"Yeah, he probably does," Lucas agreed, tossing the ball back to Darwin one last time before climbing out to meet Dr. Westphalen. "What's up, Doc?"
Dr. Westphalen raised her eyebrows, then smiled and shook her head before replying, "I was hoping you'd like to help me analyze some of the soil samples I've taken."
More likely, Lucas thought, she wanted his company as much as his help. He was fairly certain there wasn't a person on this ship who didn't notice how forlorn she'd seemed after she and Cynthia had finally bid their farewells again. Even he'd seen that, not just the captain or the science team or the bridge crew. He wasn't sure how often Dr. Westphalen talked to her daughter, but he'd bet their relationship was a sight stronger than his was with his father. The minute Cynthia was gone, her mother had gone back to missing her and worrying about her.
He didn't want to admit it, but he wished the same could have been said for his father.
Maybe Dr. Kristin Westphalen had known that, and maybe that's why she'd asked for his help, his company. Maybe she'd known that, if he was honest, he wanted some more attention from people. He hated being discounted because he was just a kid, someone who didn't really know anything, didn't know how the world worked.
"Sure," Lucas said. "I'll meet you as soon as I get changed."
The analysis of each of the soil samples, it turned out, was suspiciously straightforward, and as far as Lucas could tell, they didn't contain anything out of the ordinary. That strengthened his earlier suspicion regarding the good doctor, and he wondered if he should ask her about it. A glance at her face made him to decide to keep quiet this time; he knew her well enough to know that she was thinking about something when she had that look, and it was probably about what to say to him.
Maybe she was one of the ones who were leaving. The Doctor had told him they wouldn't all come back for seaQuest's next tour. He'd known that, of course, but Dr. Westphalen seemed like such a staple to the crew…. Then again, so did Chief Crocker, and Lucas knew he was going to retire. He had a wife at home, didn't he? Well, he wasn't the only one of the crew with family. How many of them would be tempted to put their love of the sea aside for the sake of their loved ones?
"I think," Dr. Westphalen said suddenly, "that the Doctor knew."
"That he knew who's going to leave seaQuest?" Lucas asked, still caught up in his thoughts.
Dr. Westphalen laughed. "Heavens, Lucas, what have you been thinking about? No, I haven't the faintest if the Doctor knew that. I think he knew about Cynthia."
"About Cynthia?" Lucas echoed.
Dr. Westphalen nodded. "He told me she was resilient, you know, and that she'd be all right. And she was, even though she very nearly wasn't. I think the Doctor knew what was going to happen. He was trying to comfort me before I knew I would have reason to worry." She looked at Lucas for a moment, then said, "Why did you think he knew who was going to leave? I daresay there's hardly a soul on this ship who's figured that out. I certainly haven't."
She was considering it, then. She was considering leaving. Not like him; he knew that he'd be back, if there was any possible way he could be. As the Doctor had said, he belonged. He was part of the crew, even if it was only unofficial. Dr. Westphalen's request for his help simply reaffirmed that.
"He said seaQuest'll be finished her first tour soon," Lucas said, recounting the Doctor's words, "and he said parting will be hard for everyone because some people aren't going to come back."
"It doesn't mean someone's abandoning you if they don't sign on for seaQuest's next tour, Lucas," Dr. Westphalen reminded him gently. "It just means that they're following a different path than you are. There's no reason you can't keep in touch with your friends."
No, there wasn't, but a part of him was wondering if he'd manage it anyway. If he'd had any doubt that it was easy to drift apart from people once you didn't see them anymore, to let friendships crumble instead of maintaining or building upon them, his research into the Doctor's past certainly made that clear. It sounded like most of the Doctor's friends hadn't heard from him in years.
He'd even tried getting in contact with Donna Noble, the one Sarah Jane had told him he shouldn't, thinking that that was perhaps the reason why he'd been warned against trying. He'd done his research and figured that one Donna Temple-Noble was the one he wanted, so he'd sent her a brief message asking what she knew about the Doctor. The reply had told him that he'd clearly picked the wrong person, since he could tell from the tone that the writer had thought he'd been having her on.
I bet Nerys put you up to this, didn't she? Donna had written. She's always trying to catch me out. Look, Lucas, whoever you are, I don't know what you're on about, but you can tell Nerys I'm not going to fall for it, got that? Just because I found a gentleman in Shaun and she's still searching for herself, well, that's her own problem. We're doing quite well for ourselves, no thanks to her. If she wants to know about some doctor bloke then she can very well go ask people for herself. If she's asking me, I know she's got something planned, and I won't fall for it, you hear me?
The letter had continued for a while longer, ranting about this and that, and Lucas was rather thankful he hadn't found a number and tried to call her. As it was, he'd just sent off a hurried apology, saying something about being mistaken, and leaving it at that.
"I know," Lucas said, finally responding to Dr. Westphalen's comment, "but I'll miss them all the same."
"That's part of life," Dr. Westphalen pointed out. "You can't keep everyone you love close to you, and when they leave, you miss them." She put an arm around Lucas before adding, "Even if you can't get up the courage to always tell them that. Come on. Why don't you tell me how your research is going? Nathan told me you were making quite a bit of progress, but I wouldn't mind hearing it from you."
"I took a wrong turn recently," Lucas admitted. "I contacted someone who had no idea what I was talking about."
Dr. Westphalen laughed. "I can imagine the response you got to that!"
Lucas smirked. "Yeah, she thought someone was trying to pull a practical joke on her." He shrugged off Dr. Westphalen's arm in the guise of picking up the samples they'd been testing. "Where do you want these?"
"Leave them," Dr. Westphalen said. "I'll clean up later. You know, Lucas, I wouldn't mind having a look at your work myself. The captain's told me that you've been doing quite well, and Lieutenant Krieg figures you've gotten further than anyone else on seaQuest would have. And after what I worked out about Cynthia, I have to admit that I'm quite curious. Would you mind showing me what you've found?"
"No, of course not," Lucas said. "I've got everything in my room."
It didn't take long to get everything together, and Dr. Westphalen was soon reading through the various responses Lucas had gotten, including the transcript of his call with Luke and Sarah Jane Smith, which he'd gotten from the data archives of his computer. When something beeped, she looked up at him. It didn't have the familiar set of tones that signalled an incoming vid call, but Lucas knew she was still familiar enough with the sounds made by various pieces of technology and their associated meanings. "New message?" she asked.
"Chances are," Lucas agreed. Reaching for the mouse, Lucas checked his incoming messages.
"Dad," Sylvia Noble said, "enough of that. You should rest."
Wilfred Mott turned from the window to look at his daughter. "You're always telling me that," he complained.
"Because it's true," Sylvia insisted. "I don't get a wink of sleep with you around. I should have put you in a home years ago."
"Oh, listen to her go on," Wilf said, waving a hand. "I'm sharp as a tack, and don't you forget it."
Sylvia sighed. It was true; her father was as sharp as he'd ever been. He hardly looked his age now, though at least she'd finally gotten him to use a cane to keep his feet. But she worried about him, and she'd never stop worrying about him as long as they both walked this earth. She loved him too much.
But she also loved her daughter, and she lost enough sleep worrying about her, too, and that worry would never stop, either, not as long as she lived. Her daughter, who'd done more than she'd ever know. Her daughter, who'd thought she wasn't important and yet was the most important person in the universe.
Her daughter, who was happily married, finally, after her second go.
Her daughter, who had forgotten why she was so special, and could never remember.
Her Donna, her baby girl, who was so like her father that it hurt to think about it, because even if she didn't worry about him, she missed him, and always would.
"She's fine, Dad," Sylvia said. "We finally convinced her and Shaun to go out to the garden. I don't want you to interrupt them before the planting's done."
"She only went because I asked," Wilf insisted. "She loves me too much to deny me."
"Yeah, and she'd think I was ill if we didn't have a good quarrel now and then," Sylvia said. She pointed to the kitchen table. "Sit. I've got the kettle on. Tea'll be ready in a minute."
Donna had never told Sylvia about her travels, not plainly. The most she'd heard from her daughter were half truths and partial tales. Donna had confided in her dear grandfather, not her own mother. It hadn't been until the Earth had moved and been returned, until Donna herself had forgotten, that Sylvia had really learned what her daughter had been up to.
She'd had to ask her father what Donna had told him, and she'd gotten the story in pieces, one at a time, when Donna had been out of the house. It had nearly taken until Donna's wedding day to complete the story of her travels with the man she knew only as the Doctor, the man who was the reason Donna had missed her first wedding day. Didn't matter now. Sylvia liked Shaun more than a sight better than she had Lance. Lance had never struck her as entirely trustworthy, not like Shaun. Shaun really did love her daughter, and that's what was important to Sylvia.
But since Donna had been complaining about Nerys's prank, the one Nerys herself denied, Sylvia had been inclined to look into things and ignore her daughter's privacy. Shaun had understood; he'd been trying to smooth things out between those two girls, and he kept insisting he'd never understand why Donna had had Nerys as a bridesmaid for their wedding. Donna had said she'd never intended him to understand. Putting Nerys in peach, she'd insisted, was the best way to get back at her for all the things she'd done over the years, and she'd always have the wedding pictures to prove it.
When Sylvia had asked Shaun to let her into Donna's email so that she could see this so-called prank message Nerys had arranged, she hadn't thought she'd find what she did.
She didn't know who had sent the message. She'd never heard of Lucas Wolenczak. But she knew all too much about the man who called himself the Doctor.
Shaun had asked if she could make anything of it. Sylvia had rolled her eyes in response. Nerys and Donna, she'd said, would never stop pranking each other, not even when they were both old and grey. They'd keep in touch just to be able to do that. They were friendly enemies if she'd ever seen any, the way those two joked around.
She'd told Dad about the message, and he'd insisted they invite Donna over here under one pretence or another so that he could keep an eye on her. Just in case. That's why Sylvia had gone on about the state of the garden to Donna, who had returned her grumbling in kind. It had taken Wilf to plead with his granddaughter that he was old and couldn't get around as well as he used to, but how he'd love to see her out in the garden again because she'd loved it so as a little girl when they'd planted flowers together.
"You should tell him, you know," Wilf said. "He should know."
Sylvia, who had been getting the cups, turned back from the cupboard. "Tell who what, Dad? Shaun? We can't. We agreed not to. It's too risky."
"Not him. This Lucas bloke. The one who was asking after the Doctor. He got Donna's name, he did, and he got in touch with her. That's worth something. Tell him he didn't get the wrong person. Just tell him…. Tell him what happened. Tell him why he can't contact her again."
"I doubt he'll try again after the reply Donna sent him," Sylvia said, plunking a cup down in front of her father. She glanced out at the window at her daughter and her son-in-law. "It's best we leave it."
"I'll tell him if you don't," Wilf said stubbornly. "You don't think I was curious when I first saw Donna waving at me from that little blue box up in the sky? All he's trying to do is search for answers."
"We don't have any," Sylvia said.
"At least tell him that," Wilf insisted. "Tell him about Donna. You're as proud of your little girl as I am of mine, aren't you?"
"Oh, Dad," Sylvia said, "of course I am, but I don't think—"
"Mum," Donna interrupted, sticking her head in the kitchen door, "have you got any more of that stuff?"
"What stuff?" Sylvia asked, unable to keep the trace of annoyance from her voice. "I can't answer you if I don't know what you're after."
"You know what I mean," Donna said, exasperated. "That stuff that you mix in with the soil. For moisture or whatever."
"Peat moss," Wilf offered.
Donna smiled at him. "Yeah, that's it, Gramps. Peat moss."
"It's in the back of the shed, and mind you don't use it all," Sylvia cautioned. "We weren't all lucky enough to win the lottery."
Donna laughed. "I still can't get over the luck of that," she said. "Triple rollover! And here I thought it was a cheap wedding gift. Turned out to be the best thing that could've happened to the two of us. We'd've never been able to afford a place otherwise."
"Yeah, well, it's all in the past," Sylvia said, "and you still need to make every penny count, or I didn't manage to teach you a thing." She nodded in the direction of the garden, adding, "You two finish up out there and come in for tea before it goes cold, and then we'll have a proper visit."
Donna made a face, so Wilf chipped in, "Take your time, sweetheart. We'll keep it warm for you two."
"Thanks, Gramps," Donna said, smiling at him again. "We'll make sure this garden is as nice as the last one you and I planted together, all right?" Still smiling, she turned away and was gone again.
Sylvia closed the door behind her before looking back at Wilf. "You see, then? She's no worse for the wear."
"She's still my Donna," Wilf agreed, "but I still think you should write that Lucas Wolenczak and tell him the truth about her."
Sylvia glanced out the window again, then back at her father. She knew that expression well enough; it had kept her in line when she was a child and she'd balked at her mother's decisions or orders. He wasn't going to back down, and she knew he'd pester her until she gave in.
"Fine," Sylvia said, "but I'm going to be quick about it. Mind the two of them, and give me a shout if they finish before I come back."
"Will do, ma'am," Wilf said, giving her a mock salute as she left the room.
"I'd say you had the right person after all," Dr. Westphalen commented, reading the message over Lucas's shoulder.
Lucas sat in his chair, staring at the message. It wasn't very long; a few paragraphs, nothing more. It was from Sylvia Noble, whom he quickly deduced was Donna's mother, and she was asking him not to contact her daughter about the Doctor. If he had to ask someone, he could very well ask her.
I still can't say I know what to think about that man after the state he left Donna in, Sylvia concluded after explaining how the Doctor had wiped Donna's memories of him and their travels together, but I have to be thankful to him all the same. Donna's different now. Even I noticed that, and it's not just a newfound understanding of electronics. But she's still my daughter, and I love her, and the Doctor helped ensure that she and Shaun have a good life. I'm glad of that.
"She loves her daughter very much," Dr. Westphalen said, "though I daresay she's not the sort of person who usually comes out and says it. A bit like your father in that respect, I'd say. Too proud of you to say it so much that it goes to your head."
Lucas was deaf to Dr. Westphalen's compliment. "I could have killed her," he said dumbly. "If she'd remembered, I would've killed her."
"You don't know that," Dr. Westphalen reminded him. "And it didn't happen. Don't fret about what could have been, Lucas. Focus on what is."
"I should've paid attention to Sarah Jane's note," Lucas insisted. "I should've known there was a good reason for it."
"Perhaps you should have," Dr. Westphalen allowed, "and your best route would have been to ask Sarah Jane herself rather than make assumptions or ignore the information you had at hand, but all is still well. You're young yet, Lucas. You're going to make plenty more mistakes than this."
"But I could have killed her," Lucas repeated.
"But you didn't," Dr. Westphalen said again. "The lesson, Lucas, is to be careful what you ask and who you ask, not to stop asking." She smiled, adding, "Where would I be if I stopped asking questions?"
"Yeah, but your curiosity hasn't nearly killed anyone," Lucas muttered.
"No," Dr. Westphalen agreed, "but I very nearly used the knowledge I gained from the answers I received to my questions to kill someone."
She meant Dr. Zellar, Lucas realized. "But you didn't," Lucas said softly.
"No, I didn't, but I truly thought I might." She sighed. "I was angry, Lucas, and I wanted to avenge my brother, James. He was one of the many innocent men Dr. Rubin Zellar slaughtered with his biochemical cocktails." She swallowed, then added, "But I couldn't do it. I couldn't stoop to his level."
"You're better than that," Lucas said.
"Am I?" Dr. Westphalen wondered. "It would have been so easy. Just one more ingredient, that's all I would have needed."
"But you didn't add it."
"I didn't want to become him," Dr. Westphalen said. "But it was a choice, Lucas, that was more difficult to make than you'd think." She pointed at the message which was still displayed on the computer screen. "We all face difficult choices, even if we don't realize how much weight our decisions hold at the time. Look at Sylvia Noble, who worries about her daughter but must hide the truth from her every day. Look at the Doctor, who had to curse her daughter to such a fate, a state of ignorance that daren't be lifted. Choose your path carefully, Lucas."
"Yeah, I get it," Lucas said, and he did. "Ask questions, but think about what you're asking and who you're asking, and make sure you understand everything. Don't make rash decisions, right?"
"Precisely," Dr. Westphalen said. "Chances are that you'll regret it if you act in haste or before you have all the information you need."
Lucas looked over the information he'd compiled on the Doctor within the last few weeks. "How often do you get the feeling that all the information you can get isn't enough?"
Dr. Westphalen laughed. "That's the life of a scientist, Lucas." She got to her feet. "Come on, we'll do something to take your mind off of things. How are you at poker?"
A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed; it's good to know you're enjoying this!