Disclaimer applies, as ever.
Getting pretty desperate for a review at this point. Can't you at least tell me what I'm doing wrong?
Twitch didn't question where they were going. She leaned forward against the console, letting her fingers trail across the buttons without actually pressing any of them, like she was stroking them. It was her way of apologising, much as it was the Doctor's way of showing affection. One of the buttons thrummed against the contact, and Twitch tentatively pushed against it more firmly. The central column became a smidgeon brighter.
Pulling back in surprise, Twitch found the strange new Doctor positively beaming at her. She wasn't frowning, but something in her expression betrayed her confusion, because he leaned forward and whispered, "Let her teach you."
Twitch closed her eyes when she returned to the console, letting her fingers move across the various panels, hardly touching, letting her other senses fade back until she felt another hum. It was a strange sensation, such a light and familiar contact that it seemed like a sound that couldn't be heard, a delicate vibration in the air like somebody breathing against her skin. The TARDIS directed her from one button to the next in this way, a silent teacher guiding her through the process. Twitch wasn't even sure what she was doing as her hands navigated from one area to the next – she wasn't steering so much as being steered. And this, she was sure, was so much closer to what the Doctor felt – relying on the ship itself to know what to do, rather than on some dusty instruction manual.
After a while, the humming ceased, and the gentle churn of the central column faded into silence. Twitch opened her eyes and stood for a moment, gazing at something invisible between her and the central console. Abruptly, she turned away. "Where are we?"
"I don't know. Certainly not where I was going to take us." He neglected to mention that he had been taking her home. It wasn't the sort of news she would react well to and, while he knew that she might resent him forever for abandoning her, he knew that it was better that she were alive to do so than be dead because of him. Too many were dead already because of him.
Unfortunately the decision had been taken from his hands. Quite why the TARDIS had seen fit to intervene, the Doctor didn't know. He would be having words with her later. For now though, curiosity overtook all other emotion, and he stepped outside.
Twitch followed, almost falling over as she was buffeted by the strong wind. The landscape that emerged was not grey, as her initial thought had been, but silver. A cityscape - strong, striking and silver in colour, full of towering buildings and concrete paving. The mirrorglass of the TARDIS exterior seemed perfectly at peace with the surrounding area. The building closest to them had words carved into it. She recognised the letters, but not the words. "Doctor, what language is this?" The TARDIS usually translated alien languages, but this was more a sculptural piece than anything else.
The Doctor glanced upward. "Creu Gwir fel gwydr o ffwrnais awen,"he recited, in a voice that wasn't his own, without moving his lips. Both the Doctor and his companion turned to see a man in a greatcoat leaning against the TARDIS. "Mornin', Doc."
"Jack," the Doctor said, looking more than a little surprised to see the stranger. "Good to see you again."
Jack shrugged. "I'd say the same, but you only left yesterday." His voice had an American twang to it.
"I did?"
"You did." Jack grinned. "It's November 19th, 2009."
"So I did. Gosh, I'd forgotten. Seven years ago in my timeline. I was still travelling with Nadrin then, as I recall. Short, green eyes, hell of a kick?"
Jack grimaced, then smiled. "Yeah, my shin's still recovering."
"You're looking well, apart from that. I'd say you haven't aged a day since I last saw you, but, well…Hasn't been a day, has it? Seems rather pointless to point it out."
Jack chuckled. "And yet you did anyway. You're not looking so bad yourself. How long've you been ginger?"
"Since yesterday."
"Your yesterday, or mine?"
"Mine. Shot by a Dalek."
"Ouch. Know what that feels like. Interesting tingly sensation when you wake up, though, not quite the same as standard electrocution." He spoke as though getting electrocuted was about as everyday as taxes. "All the same, I can't say I'd want to do it again any time soon."
"Not something that I exactly planned, Jack. Besides, next death is the last for me."
Jack stared at him. "You're kidding."
"Nope. Luck runs out at thirteen, I'm afraid. I'm sure I've told you that before."
"Probably." Jack shrugged. "Live as long as I have, you tend to forget some things that you're told. No means no, I have a husband, et cetera."
"Live as long as you have," the Doctor scoffed. "Bet you haven't even hit a thousand yet."
"Three thousand," Jack countered. "Or very nearly. Spent two millennia buried under Cardiff, though – long story, not pleasant. So respect your elders." He grinned. "You can start by introducing me to this cute little assistant of yours."