This is getting to be a long story-I had originally planned for the 'Runaway Bride' portion to last one or two entries, but as I've been breaking down my submissions to 2,000 words or less (or trying to) you get more chapters and more elaboration on the scenes-and they are such good scenes, I can't help analyzing/looking at them a little. 'Runaway Bride' has gone up in my estimate-I don't know if it's Donna or Season Four grown on me, or Christmas specials in general, but, well, 'Runaway Bride' really was a breaking point in the new series-something that just shot out of the park and kept going.
I have ideas, yeah-far too many ideas to be limited to one fanfic, especially one that seems to be stuck in the RB stage. (I'm going to change the story description for those waiting for Martha-sorry, I do intend to include her, eventually, this is the lead up to Series Three, but there might be one or two more deviations until then-I like Martha.)
Anyway, I added some stuff-oh, dearie me. (Cassandra blushes.) I had to go off-canon, now, and add some twists so that this doesn't become too much of a cut-and-paste-you'll be glad I did. (And new viewpoints-yes, it won't just be the Doctor's viewpoint.) Read for more!
Chapter 3: The Problem
Theta tapped the screen of his neuronic tab with a light-pen-biting his tongue as he stared at a problem that just would not go away no matter how hard he attacked it. He had tried solving it backwards and forwards, finding the root of the problem, or viewing it from above, but no matter which way, nothing seemed to work.
"What's the matter, Theta?" He heard and looked up to see Clarascimille, one of the older students, standing over him.
"I'm trying to solve this riddle of an equation. Can you help me?" He asked.
"Of course," She said, sitting down right next to him on the ground. "Now, did you try adding that integer?" She asked, pointing at a number on the screen once she had viewed the problem.
"Yes, I did, and it all came out uneven." He said.
"What about that cluster?" She pointed at a knot of complicated words, symbols, and numbers off to the edge of the screen.
"It could be considered part of the solution, but I don't think there's enough of a solid base connecting them to the final problem." He said.
"What about the Nth degree—does that have anything to do with it?" She asked.
"The Nth—why, yes...yes, it does!" He laughed. "And if we subtract that part-" He quickly did the math on the screen, the numbers and letters whizzing about in a cloud of representation for the figures.
"Then you have the solution." Clarascimille said.
"Yes!" Theta laughed again, and said, "Thank you, thank you, Clarascimille!"
"You may call me Millie." She told him.
"Millie..." He said, staring at her-"Thank you."
Suddenly, a figure burst upon the scene, jumping about and laughing as he whizzed about the yard. He came over to the pair, and knocked over Theta's neuronic tab from his hands, laughing right in Theta's face. He darted off again, and left the scene of his crime.
"Koschei!" Clarascimille cried out at the other student before she shook her head. "Oh, he is a devil, all right."
Theta looked down at the ground, staring at his broken tab, and getting teary-eyed. Clarascimille turned to him, and told him, "You are an angel, Theta." She kissed him on the forehead. "Don't you ever change."
Theta said nothing, still staring down.
She picked up Rose's jacket. The Doctor stared at it as she accused him of kidnapping other women. The jacket was purple like the supernova—sad and alone.
"That's my friend's." He said.
"Where is she, then, popped out for a space walk?" She asked sarcastically.
"She's gone." He said.
"Gone where?" She asked.
"I lost her." He replied.
"Well, you can hurry up and lose me!" Donna cried, and nearly threw the purple jacket down on the ground in frustration—furious with him and this whole situation as he tapped those buttons and stared at a screen, or something—she had no idea what he was doing with the controls on board his ship. If they were controls—pretty weird controls for such a weird spaceship.
He wasn't even looking at her. Just ignoring her, it seemed, as if-what was the matter with him? She was angry, and he—her anger died down as she wondered...
"How do you mean lost?" She finally asked, realizing that he was acting strangely—strangely for him, anyway, sad and stern at the same time—and she wondered if he was grieving or something.
He, however, would not answer her-just looked at her with a sternness that was mad and bleak at the same time, a penetrating stare that got into her very soul as he went around and snatched away his—friend's—jacket from her, dragging it away as he announced their destination.
"Right, well, you've got some explaining to do." She muttered half-heartedly to herself, but she did not say so loud enough for the Doctor to hear. She did not want to upset the Doctor right now, especially when he was in control of this spaceship piloting her back to Earth, or so she hoped, and they were this close to parting—she would be glad to get rid of him.
She did want to know a little bit more about him, though, and this girl-friend who was 'lost', but she did not want to know too much; she was afraid of what she might find out. She did not want to get involved in his life, whatever sort of life it might be, just go back home and start her life anew-leaving home, and moving in with Lance! What a fantastic sort of life that would be.
What sort of spaceship would have an engine room like this? She wondered to herself in the last few minutes she had left with the Doctor-if it was an engine room. She could imagine this spaceship she was in being giant-like a Starship from the Enterprise series.
Her granddad always used to like watching that show; then he-gosh, she hoped she got to see him again. He was really sick with the Spanish flu today, or else he would have been there to see her wedding-she missed him, and hoped that he would be feeling better soon.
Mind you, granddad probably would have loved all of this-chatting it up with the Doctor, even, but she just wanted to go back to Earth, get married, and find out more about H.C. Clements. And she did not want to see the rest of the spaceship. There was enough going on where she was without her getting involved in all of this.
"Here we are," The Doctor said after an unsettling bump, and turned towards the doors.
"That's it?" Donna said, rushing past him. "Where are we? Surely we can't be in London, your spaceship probably wouldn't even fit-"
She looked around, and realized that she was in the wrong part of town, in an alleyway, and then-right in front of her when she turned around to face the spaceship was a tall blue box...the Doctor rushed back inside, mumbling about recalibrating or something, and she was staring, trying to grasp the exterior of the ship with the interior-not so big as to accommodate all of the space inside—and she thought, no, no, she was having none of it...
Even though he wanted to be rid of her as well, the Doctor followed Donna because there was nowhere else to go to learn about the problem he needed solved—namely her, and what she was doing on board his ship; and he had to deal with her calling him a Martian. What was up with that?
He soon learned that it was Christmas Eve, and looked about at all of the decorations and holiday spirit (all right, holiday spirit was not quite the right word he would have used to describe all of the people rushing about on errands around him-busy shopping and driving their cars, without any regard for their fellow man (or woman, as Donna was trying to flag down a cab))—on display. It made him think that he was missing out on a lot, not being able to pick up on what was going on around him without Donna telling him that it was Christmas Eve.
Of course, they were in a bit of a rush, he told himself as they ran to a phone box so that she could call the church. (Ha, a phone box, a real phone box.) And he was flustered enough by what was going on with them not to notice anything around them except what they were doing, but still-he certainly wasn't very jolly today as he went to an ATM- not jolly enough to celebrate Christmas.
But he was definitely getting used to the idea of spending Christmas Eve on Earth, he thought to himself as he waited for the ATM. Lately it seemed he was getting quite familiar with the holiday, as every third or fourth trip it seemed-oops, it's Christmastime again! He jumped up and down from foot to foot, impatient; he was getting sick of Christmas, to tell you the truth.
In the past, he had somehow managed to 'skip' the holiday by going somewhere when the holiday was not taking place; it was inadvertent at times when he had done it, but now he just felt like intentionally skipping Christmas and saving himself the time of aggravation, stress, and grief. He was lost without Rose, and Donna was no help.
He wasn't used to there being no snow, though, he reflected to himself as he got up to the ATM to make his transaction. He had gotten the idea that it always snowed on Christmas, (probably through the media that advertised the holiday,) but without any snow-well, where was the fun in Christmas? You had to make your own fun, apparently.
He got his money-through fraud, really-and looked up to see-Robot Santas. Robot Santas playing 'God Rest You Merry Gentlemen' and he was dismayed—dismayed to see them here, bringing tidings of evil and power brewing to bring about the end of all things good and bright.
He knew this then, and he knew that Donna was in the middle of it all. There was no doubt about it, if there was anything that made him think something evil was going on, Donna was about it. And she was getting into a cab-driven by a Robot in a Santa mask, why couldn't she see—didn't she think it was suspicious? Of course not, she was still new to this whole mess.
And he was left here to deal with the Santas and their Horns of Destruction-Horns blasting death rays, what nonsense, but deadly nonsense, and so he used a distraction. A very expensive distraction, but he could afford it for now.
He ran off before they could catch him-he had a cab to catch.
A person stood off to the side, watching the scene with the chaos of the crowd shrouding him.
"The problem is an equation has to be defined before it can be solved." He said, looking over at his companion. "His case-or, you might have to say, my case-was that he was distracted. Too much going on, you see, for him to pay attention to what was most important in solving this problem-defining it. If he had captured one of those robots, and dissected it, he could have figured out much sooner who was involved."
"But he-you needed Donna to know about H.C. Clements." His companion said.
"Yes, well, he could have asked around-after she was gone." He said, looking in the direction her cab had gone. "He could have found out where she worked from the people who had attended her wedding-or by some other means..." He said darkly, staring down.
The companion sighed. "Back to the drawing board," She said, walking off with the 'doctor' following after her; the Ghosts of Christmas Future were coming together with the Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present.
And that's it for now! Please post reviews, and tell me what you think! I want to know. I hope to continue this for awhile.