Threads

A/N: Yes. I know. It's been a while since I've updated. Bear with me. I'm trying as hard as I can to update stuff (such as my nine other projects) but don't worry because it's summer! Yes, I don't have a job (lol) but I treat this as if it is my job. Jeez. I do this from 9-3ish (minus the fifteen minute break for eating) so yeah. There you go. I'm only fifteen. Don't think I'm like this fat 40-year old who never gets off her fat lazy butt. I can't have a real job yet. And—oh, I'm rambling on now aren't I? lol. Anyway.

This chapter is dedicated to my play director/ family friend/ Communications teacher/ costumes manager Mr. Jablonski who is recovering from a quadruple-bypass surgery. We hope he'll come back this year to continue teaching and directing the next musical.

Enjoy.

"Creative writing," the Doctor's voice started in his false American accent, as if lecturing.

"Creative writing, creative—no, that doesn't roll off of your tongue as much as physics," the Doctor made a slight frown. "Physics, physics, physics. I hope you're getting this down" he started, muttering, and then he grinned, all energy, and picked up a marker from the dry erase board, writing on it in big letters, "PHYSICS."

"Ah, yes," he started, putting on his glasses. "Where was I? Yes, so can anyone tell me what inertia is?"

"Um…Mr. Smith?" a girl raised her hand. She had dark brown hair, and deep blue eyes. She regarded the Doctor as a kid who was so incredibly lost but in a funny way. "This is the creative writing class."

"So it is," replied "Mr. Smith," his expression as if he were a kid caught red-handed. He noticed a few kids snickering. "What's your name, then?"

"Sam Baker," replied the girl.

"So, then, Sam Baker…what is it exactly that you would do in this class?"

"Well, Mr. Jablonski always had his planner on the desk. That was when he couldn't think of a good project for us to do." Sam replied.

"Ah!" he walked to Mr. Jablonski's desk, who was in the hospital getting over a heart surgery (quadruple-bypass) and found a few papers.

"'Have the students prepare a two thousand word essay on their favorite memory…free style essay…'"he sucked air through his teeth, finally looking up at the students. Then he smiled, grinning widely.

"Okay. Everyone get out a sheet of paper. I have a brilliant idea for you to work on today, due by the end of the period. Write at least two pages of a short story. Anything you want. I want dialogue, description, and a good plot. More than two pages are highly appreciated. All right? Now, start working."

He sat down on the chair at the desk, rubbing his eyes in boredom. He looked at his schedule. 2nd period, which was now with the sophomores, 4th period, with juniors, 5th period, with seniors, and 7th period with more sophomores. This was going to be a long day.

"Did you see that new substitute?" asked Julie, the school's lunch lady. She and the other lunch lady, Cynthia were dishing out the food to the kids. It was already 6th period, the second of three periods of lunch.

"You mean that Smith guy?" asked Cynthia. She wasn't old, rather in her early thirties. She had been studying to go to medical school until she unexpectedly had a baby. She ended up marrying the father, but she liked to flirt with other men. And sometimes more than flirt.

"Oh, yeah," replied Julie. She was in her late twenties, paying her way through community school to get her bachelor's degree in Radiology. She was single, and pretty. Many of the boys liked to go to her line for the purpose of seeing her. "I wouldn't mind serving him."

The two women giggled. Then Julie shot a pointed look at Rose, who was at the checkout line, putting in the student's ID numbers so that they could pay, as if the IDs were credit cards. She was inside the cafeteria, alone, while the other lunch ladies were inside the kitchen, cooking and handing out food. Of course, at least Rose got to sit down, but it was a long and incredibly boring job.

"Of course," continued Julie. "He's marrying her. They're engaged."

"Well, of course," retorted Cynthia, sarcastically. "She's blond."

The two snickered.

---

Rose was not having any fun ringing up the kids. It was just scan your ID and she'll punch in the items, scan and go, scan and go. Punch in the ID number if the student forgot theirs. Read them how much money they have left on their online account.

Watch them eat their hot burgers and chips and talk with their friends about cute girls, cute guys, cute substitute teachers…

"Yeah, Mr. Smith, that new creative writing sub," a girl was telling her friends at the end of the line. "I've seen him walking around this place. He's really cute."

They are not talking about the Doctor. Rose thought coldly, her blood slightly boiling.

"I know! He came into my English class to talk to my teacher…oh, I wish I had him. I could just stare at him all day…" another girl in the group smiled.

Well, he's my finance. So shove off. Rose thought. She wanted to go over to those girls and just shout at them. They were only a couple years younger than her, perhaps seniors. They were approaching the next of line, now.

"Oh, I had him last period," chimed in another girl, a brunette. "He's so crazy. He babbles about everything, just rambles on. It's so funny. He bounces around the room and he's really hyper. He's like a little kid. It's so adorable."

They were the next to ring up. "Excuse me—" Rose started, rather coldly. "Are you talking about the new substitute, Mr. John Smith?"

"Yeah," replied the brunette girl, half-dreamily. "You've seen him, I'm sure. Isn't he hot?"

"Well, you know what?" Rose started, as sweetly as she could through her teeth. She was ready to tell this stupid girl off, to tell off the whole group, but…she had another idea. Still would have the same effect. And wouldn't draw much attention to them either. "I've heard stories about him…well, not just that, he told me."

The girls leaned closer. "I heard…well, let's just say, he's a little, uh, too happy, if you know what I mean."

"You mean he's—" started the brunette and mouthed the last word. Rose nodded.

They groaned. Rose smiled. They would never look at him the same way again. The girls scanned their IDs in and sat at another table, talking about some other guy.

A tray was set on the table.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous. Not like it's any of my business," came a male voice.

"Well, he is my fiancée," replied Rose, not looking up. "Now, if you'd give me your ID and be on your way—"

"Um, I sort of, don't have an ID, but if you could kindly pay for me, I'll be on my way, Miss Tyler." she heard a grin behind that voice. It was familiar but different. She looked up to the see the Doctor, and blushed.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith," replied Rose curtly. "But that's against school policy. Now, if you don't have the money, please go back to the end of the line."

She grinned at him, knowing he was the last person in line anyway.

"Oh, just this one time?" asked "Mr. Smith" grinning back at her.

"Well, I guess, but only because I'd hear about it until the year 500,000 when we get home," she replied, smiling at him. He grinned.

"Well," replied the Doctor, leaning closer. "I haven't found anything…weird yet. You?" he asked.

Rose shook her head. "Besides a bunch of high school girls—and some of the staff—" she nodded to Julie and Cynthia, "—flocking over you, nothing."

He grinned. "I think you're jealous," he said.

"Am not!" she tried to hide the blush that was creeping over her face.

"I bet you're wishing that those high school boys would be flocking over you!" he grinned. "And, you never know, maybe some of the staff—" he broke off in a grin.

"Well, you know how I like those older guys," she replied, smiling. If the Doctor was going to flirt with her…well, there was no harm in playing his game, right? She looked up at him, though, and saw his mouth opening and closing, like a fish.

He put his hand through his hair, and his voice came out in a squeak. "Well, I better get going." He dug into his pocket, pulling out something silver. The sonic screwdriver. He handed it to her, trying to keep it out of sight.

"577/999," he said, pointing to the monitor that she used to punch in the items. "That's my ID number."

She grinned at him, pressing the button. "There you go, Mr. Smith. Enjoy your lunch."

"Aren't you coming?" he asked. "Break starts officially…now."

"Well, I don't suppose I could see the harm in that. As long as you give me some of your chips."

---

Lunch went very well. After that, the Doctor had only one period to teach. He started to read the students' short stories (which most were over four pages each) in his fourth period class, but only got through three of them from his classes in total, since one student went home sick, a teacher walked in to talk to him about taking another student out of his class to help that said teacher.

5th period was rowdy. Seniors. It was already toward the end of the year, May, and the seniors were inflicted with a disease the Doctor identified as Senioritis. Symptoms included slacking off, not caring, excessive talking, and bad attitudes.

So it was his last period, 7th, with more sophomores. He gave his instructions, and they worked quietly. Sophomores seemed to be his favorite year so far, because they were the ones that listened best.

He started to flip through his 2nd period's short stories. He read through one written by a John Jayler about a demon in the library, coming after the librarian. He was an exceptional writer, but the story itself was very dark, and in the end the librarian had drifted off to sleep. It was too predictable.

He picked up another one. 'The Irish Samurai.' It read. A comedy, where a man from Ireland stumbles into 14th century Japan and is captured and thrown in a dungeon. And the twist: the only way out is if he speaks only in Haikus. It was very funny.

Another one, titled 'Kryptonite.' He started to read through it.

It was a clear and starry night. The stars gleamed with a sheer magnificent glow, and there had never been such a night as beautiful. Too bad the team of two who came here to enjoy this night were now running for their lives.

He took her hand in his, and ran down a corridor to run away from the thing.

The thing behind them chased the two, not quite human, but human looking. It was huge, bigger than the man by a head with four arms instead of two, with a periwinkle tentacle instead of a hand at the ends. It had two legs, two feet, which were also periwinkle, its torso a lavish neon green that went hideously with the rest of its body.

The Doctor grinned. A sci-fi short story. The first one he had come across. Of course, to his disappointment, it wouldn't be quite accurate. Nonetheless, he continued.

O f course, it wasn't that they were scared. Well, that was a bit of an understatement. Of course they were scared, but it was normal. They were doing this almost every day, the two, and it was thrilling yet fun. A man and a woman, travelers in space.

One was human, the woman, and the other, the man, wasn't.

Okay, the Doctor thought. That was weird.

The thing was coming closer. But luckily, time and luck was on their side. The man and the woman hurried into the spaceship, hurriedly closing the doors. They disappeared before the monster, leaving it there on that planet never to return.

They sighed, out of breath inside the interior of the ship. Well, technically, anyone who knew the man would call it a ship. The man and the woman would call it home. Everyone else would call it a police box.

The Doctor stopped, his hearts racing. This was getting too weird. The bell rang. His class was over.

The students raced out, and since the last period of lunch was over, Rose would be getting off. And they could go home and go over this.

The man and the woman could call it home…

It was just too weird.

---

He didn't tell her. Maybe he was just getting worked up over nothing. Maybe his previous incarnation had been here, and the student had heard the story.

Still…

It had been hours since school ended, nighttime, almost four in the morning. They were in a hotel, and Rose was sleeping. He looked at her next to him. Angel. He thought.

He reached over to his folder which he brought back to read. He flipped through them, reading a couple, until the itch to read 'Kryptonite' overwhelmed him.

The man looked over at the woman as she walked around the large control room, the engine whirring as they sped through space. He smiled at her, watching her. Sometimes he forgot that she was just a simple human before they met. Now, he saw her as everything but that. She was his anchor. His best friend.

She was the woman that saved his life. And he loved her for that. He didn't know how a girl of no less than two decades could have this much control of him. Though he tried to fight it, because he knew of that imminent sadness that would take over his life if he had ever acted on his feelings. Because he would go on, and she would age and eventually die. That was the curse of his people.

He looked over to Rose. She looked so beautiful sleeping. He was so very aware now that they were in the same bed. He gulped, turning back to the eerily accurate short story.

She was very beautiful, as anyone, male of female would agree. Blond hair, cascading just below her shoulder. Dark brown eyes that would light up when they would land in a new place, or soften when she saw someone needing help. Compassion.

He dreaded the day when they would part. He didn't think he would be able to continue if she left. Whether it be her choice, his choice, or fate's choice. He begged the powers-that-be (even though he didn't believe in them) that the latter wouldn't happen. She was his weakness. And he was very strong, almost immortal. No, not almost. He was. Because if he were to ever die, he would just…well, she already saw what would happen.

Regenerate? the Doctor wondered. It was so odd. But good.

"Where to?" he asked her, grinning.

"Well," she started, a slight twinkle in her eye. She reached in her pocket and held her mobile phone out. "Mickey called. He said he has something."

A wave of jealousy swept over the man. Mickey was her ex-boyfriend. She left Mickey to travel with the man. But still, Mickey was a nice guy, all in all. And the man couldn't pass up a chance to find another place, another adventure.

"What the hell?!" the Doctor swore, a little too loudly. He felt Rose shift her weight in the bed, and froze, tensing. He hoped he hadn't woken her up. He wanted to finish this before he showed her. If he showed her. It was so accurate…how would he be able to get out of the part about his feelings for her?

But she didn't. She turned the other way, her back against him. He let out a breath, and paused, turning back toward the short story.

How would this person know about him? He had never come to America with Rose and Mickey, at least, not in the 21st Century. 20th century, the 60s, but that was different. That was just Rose. And they were careful. They didn't even have an 'adventure' rather just fun and shopping.

He continued reading, though.

"What is it?" asked the man, curious.

"He said that there's a school that looks suspicious. They just changed all of their staff, and some children are disappearing." she told him. She told him when and where, and they landed.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked, and she grinned.

"Well, they need a substitute physics teacher," the woman told him, smiling, poking her tongue between her teeth. "And Mickey already sent in a resume for you."

He rolled his eyes. This was not going to be fun.

He continued reading. It ended up being six pages, front and back.

"Physics," the man started, as if lecturing. "Physics, physics, physics…physics…" He tried to wrack his brain to find something suitable for teaching kids at this age. It was tough when you were a genius teaching kids. And humans, at that. "Physics, physics…I hope you're getting this down."

The Doctor grinned. Well, I guess that's where I was earlier today. In this story teaching physics. He continued, reading every word. He read about how he met a reporter, a woman that he used to travel with. How he didn't tell her who he really was at first. About how the woman he now traveled with was the lunch lady. About the Krillitine oil in the chips (or fries, as the writer called them). About how they checked out the school. About the Krillitines, the bat-aliens. About his old dog, K-9. How the woman he used to travel with found out who he was. About how they ended up defeating the Krillitines together, with the school blowing up.

The man looked over to the woman, the woman he traveled with now. The older one had declined his offer, and now Mickey was with them.

He watched the blond, and she noticed him watching her. She turned to him, smiling, her eyes meeting his. She had no idea. She thought he would let her go, drop her off. But this little adventure had made something clear: that would never happen. She was different.

Because he loved her. And he always would. She would be his downfall, because she was his one weakness. He would gladly die for her, not as he had before to come back, but really die. End it all and give up his last life.

She was his Kryptonite.

Kryptonite. By Samantha Baker, period 2, 5/04/08.

Sam Baker. The girl that had reminded him that it was creative writing class and not physics class. A brunette girl who seemed nice enough. An incredible writer, who could perhaps make a large sum of money later in life.

Who just so happened to know all of his secrets.

He put the story back into the folder, and put the folder away. He turned over, on his side, his head propped up on his elbow. He watched as Rose's side would contract and expand with every breath.

How could that Sam Baker know so much about him? She knew he and Rose traveled in space, knew they held hands as they ran. Knew about Mickey, and how he traveled with them for a slight while, knew about Sarah-Jane, K-9. Knew about his feelings for Rose. Knew how he had reached the decision that he would never leave her. That she would never leave him.

He smiled. They would be getting up in less than two hours. It was only fair that he would take advantage of this. He turned on his side, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to her, inhaling her scent. He closed his eyes, and continued to think, and when the time came, to pretend he was asleep.

A/N: How did you like that? I know, it wasn't exactly the most action-packed (although more fluffy than last one) but it was needed for the story. Anyway. Still more mystery left to read! Stay tuned and PLEASE REVIEW!