A/N: How did the Doctor avoid Antoina's bullets? I'll explain from his point of view.
Thank you and Jelly Babies to my reviewers: OtherMeWriter, Basia Orci.
PS: The last bit of this chapter does not belong to me but is part of Firefly, and the teaser for the original Pilot episode of the series "Serenity" I include it here as a lead in to the next half of this story.

Summary: The Doctor, reeling from the effects of the TimeWar as the last surviving TimeLord, stumbled into a situation he could not ignore when the TARDIS landed him inside a ship that was clearly in trouble. After the rescue, he's left with eight survivors that he must somehow get to safety. But the situation is not as cut and dry as he might like. His people may be gone, but the stamp he's made on the universe is still there, and he finds himself caught in a web spun of the choices he's made in the past…

It's 2517. Something in history has prompted humanity to explode out from their home world. Could the events of 2164 be responsible? Was Earth a myth or was it real? In fleeing Earth-that-Was, humanity scattered to the stars across the galactic arm. Initial survey teams targeted likely planets and systems for habitation and not all of them ended up on the same side of the sector. Blue Sun exists on one side, separated by a patch of 'wild space' filled with exotic binary and triple star systems, from the rest of civilized space.

Few ships brave the route. But luck had it that one ship did. Risking a ghost run, the only contact that the two sides have, the Hunter-Gratzner crashed midway through the journey. Original Port of Departure: Eavesdown Docks, Persephone. Mixed Sino-Anglo culture. Original Port of Call: Tangiers-5. Darkside. Mixed Islamic-Anglo culture. Crew complement: Four. Passengers: Forty. Living 'Cargo': Two. Survivors: Eight plus One

So what happens to Dr. Simon Tam, his brilliant but damaged sister, a convicted murder by the name of Richard B. Riddick, and the other survivors from the crash of the Hunter-Gratzner at planet M-344/G-2 now that they are on their way home? They end up slightly out of their own Time, on a ship filled with living sculptures… And just how is this related to the TimeWar?

A Doctor Who / Firefly / Riddick crossover.

Features Doctor 9, Pre-"Rose"; Simon and River Tam, Pre-"Serenity" Firefly episode 1 and the survivors from Pitch Black: Carolyn Fry, William J. Johns, Imam Abu al'Walid, 'Jack B. Badd', Ali Abdullah, and Richard B. Riddick…

Doctor Who and the Ties that Bind.

Part Twenty

Regroup

He was in a large crate filled room, and the lights were a dim purplish-red. Not quite mauve, but close enough to make him feel jittery. He's got the impression that he's alone, but not alone, and it's too quiet, like his ears are muffled. He needs to get back to the others for some reason, desperate to see them again, even if he's not quite sure who they are or where he is.

He comes around a corner, feeling just a bit brighter about something, "I've found her," he thinks perhaps this is it, that he's found someone he's been looking for, but he is not sure. He sees Susan, and Sarah Jane, and Romana, and Turlough, and Jamie, and Harry, and Ian, -- but wait, this is not right. These people didn't know each other. Then Amadak steps into view. That is right. The others resolve into River, Carolyn, William, Simon, Abu, Ali, and Jack.

There's a noise, now. Some building wheezing sound. Becoming larger, filling the space. He is frozen, why can't he move? He needs to move, to turn, to face her, because he knows who it is, and he needs to rip the fake green eyes out of her fake face. But he can't because his body is not quite his own. He's been sharing it with someone, the price he pays for the touch of hundreds to fill that empty rending space in his mind.

Fire for Honey, Set me Free, Red Guardian I do Your Will, For Peace you Bring me…

It's odd, he can see the words, taste them, and there's the impression of human blood on his tongue, the burn of iron.

All fall down.

It's like an order, a compulsion. His body must do it. There's a bang-bang, too loud, too close. He's already half to the floor, when the projectiles whiz past his ears. He has no power to stop his body from crumpling. He feels the floor against his chest, hard and metal. He hears the screams from an impossible distance. He's so relaxed. But he's not at peace.

His companions think he's dead.

Maybe he is.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He snaps awake. Hearts thudding in his chest as the wave of disorientation crests and fades. He's on the TARDIS. In his room. In the Vortex. Safe.

It was a dream. But it was real. Such a twisted bit of reality. There's a dull ache in his head, faint, like he's been sobbing, but his eyes are dry. He's on the floor, in the dark, but he's warm, comfortable. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve the press of the warm body behind him, or the arms holding him tight, but he can't go on without them. He closes his eyes and relaxes again. Lips brush across his shoulder. "I know you're awake, Thete. Do you want me to go?"

The Doctor swallows and reaches for those large, rough, bronze hands. No, no, he does not want this man to leave him. But he doesn't trust his voice at the moment. He can feel the stubble against his back as Amadak rests his head against him. He thinks that perhaps the other man needs to stay too. He curls his hands over the others, entwining their fingers, pale and bronze. Something about that – he looks at their hands, their fingers resting together. He feels the rise of the blood to his cheeks and pool in his groin, the strong near panic of a moment ago twisting into something else that he refuses to label. He doesn't deserve this, this second chance. But the 'Verse has given him a crap deal, so he'll take what happiness he can find, steal, horde, or swindle. And maybe this time, they will stay together.

Richard was almost afraid that the Doctor would push him away, when he started and his pulse jacked. Odd that he knew there had been a change in that fluttering tempo, but he doesn't dare question it. And then he felt the pale man slowly relax. He knew, after analyzing the shooting attempt about a hundred times, frame by frame in his mind, that something had tipped the Time Lord off and he had moved down before the shots were fired. But for some reason when it happened, his mind had refused to see it in the correct order.

He kissed the pale, baby smooth shoulder, relief flooding him again over the fact that the man was alive. He was a fucking basket case, the emotions just flying through him from one extreme to another. Their hands are linked, cool and warm. He probably should move away before his natural reaction becomes too much. "Don't," it's a whisper, spoken out loud, the first he's heard from the Doctor's lips since they came back into his ship. Rich wonders if any of the others have noticed their host's silence. Now, what is he not supposed to do?

The pale form in front of him settled back even more, no longer hunching over, as he had been for the last few hours. The ex-ranger didn't breathe for a moment as the cool flesh settled buttocks to groin. Even with two layers of thin cloth between them the contrast in temperature is enough to make him bite back a hiss. He wants – right now. Thete raised a teasing eyebrow and turned his head. "No banana," Rich said, his own pulse starting to pick up.

"No. Not a banana." Thete's face is far more serious than it was the last time they had this semi-conversation. "I'm – I know what you asked for, Amadak, for your help."

"We don't need to rush this, Thete," he raises one of their entwined hands to stop the next flow of words from the Time Lord's mouth. "This is how I feel. I'm not gonna deny it. But there's no hurry. Kissing you was just right, on a level I can't explain. And yes, I want more. I wanted more at the time, had we been alone I would have gone farther, without a second thought."

Then shut up and kiss me.

You're hurtin' Thete, but sex is not what you need.

But you are. I need you.

"I'm right here. Not goin' anywhere." And then they were twisting, arms moving in an impossible dance of hands that refused to lose touch with each other. He knows he could take advantage of this and Thete wouldn't blame him. But he wants their first time to be special, and right now it would just be fixin' up a tear in Thete's soul. Other ways he can help mend that. Because he needs their first time to be extraordinary, and so he'll wait to go any farther than kissing, holding, or touching.

This time it's the Doctor who kisses first. Rich pulls him closer, almost able to taste the pain through his old dried tears. He lets himself fall into the Time Lord's mind, opening his own at the same time. Thete gasps in surprise and Rich takes advantage to dominate the physical happenings because that the only way to keep himself from being swept away. He can feel the boiling liquid brush of the Doctor's mind against his own as the crystalline walls slide away. Is this more what you need, Thete? The bond jerks into existence with a vengeance. He feels the old ache sooth away, finally, fuckin' finally… God it's feels so good to have that pain gone.

I think you have your ideas of intimacy backwards, Amadak. He is aware that moisture is leaking from his eyes over the sheer ecstasy of touching this mental landscape again. The ties between them reweave like a steel cable, delving deep into his psyche. If anything his need for physical release grows. The heat of the bronze skinned man's tongue against his own makes him want more, and his body recalls, even if it was the last one that actually knew. Even if Amadak doesn't remember.

No. You've always been here, inside me, part of me. I just didn't realize it.

There's nothing he can say to that. Nothing he wants to. The only way he can get closer than this is a step he won't take until he knows it's what Amadak wants. Until he discovers what tore them apart he won't broach that again. And so they reach a point of tension, mental and physical, that can only have full discharge once they move past their individual fears. They can ease it off but they can't eliminate it. Like moths to each other's flame, suns revolving around each other, caught and held by the force of their need yet kept separate. He feels the last threads of the bond latch into place.

But Richard has a lifetime of built up tension, of need, in his mind that had no outlet, and now, the explosion of it into the Doctor's soul is like a supernova. Flashing lightening through the clouds of his storm, so strong that it rips away all feeling of the physical. In the aftershocks of it, he's dimly aware that he still wants more, and all he can do is hope that Amadak wants that too. Then he slides into blackness along the plane of their bond, stretched tight and taunt, with Rich still entwined around and through him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Abu al'Walid never thought he would look upon a blue box with such – reverence. But he did. He was so glad to see the Doctor's strange bigger-on-the-inside living ship that once he was in the showers he found himself actually placing his lips on the wall and thanking it for being real. It went against every religious principle he had, but he did it a second time for good measure all the same. He was sure that God would understand.

He was very glad that Ali and Jack had chosen to stumble to their rooms and fall into bed.

Emotional episode out of the way, he stepped across the hall into the wardrobe room and found some clothing that suited him. He thanked the TARDIS with a pat on the doorframe as he exited and headed to the kitchen. He needed coffee.

Inside the bright and cheerful room, he found Carolyn, dressed in a gown for bed, wrapped in a thick fluffy robe with matching puffs on her feet that he realized were slippers, nursing a mug. "Coffee's fresh."

"Thank you." He pours himself a mug, notices that it is very rich coffee and that it breaks his Hajj to drink it. After a moment he drinks it anyhow. If he had some of Paris's liquor he'd drink that too. It's really great coffee. He'll do some extra penance later. "I don't think I've ever even imagined you in that particular shade of bright green before."

"Cheerful, isn't it? Like a spring day, almost. I let the TARDIS pick it."

He moves to the table and nods. "Have you heard about William's ankle?"

She swallows her mouthful of coffee, shakes her head and offers him the plate of biscuits that are sitting on the table, "They headed right into the sick bay though. I imagine he'll either be up and walking tomorrow or in a cast."

"How about, walking now?" Johns said from the door. "Nah, don't get up. I'm limping a bit because it's stiff but I should be right as rain by morning." He's dressed in a tan tee and a pair of brown heather fleece pants. His feet are in loafers. "I don't know about you, but I want a beer. And I bet the Doc doesn't keep any sort of light ale on tap."

River moves past him, "If you ask Verity, she might surprise you. Coca, please," she open a cupboard and removes a very ample mug that is steaming from it. The froth on top is slightly orange, but the smell is definitely coca. The dark headed girl, in her full skirt and navy jumper (the same one she'd gotten from the Doctor back on the Kubla Kahn) settles into a chair and pulls her bare feet up with a grace that reminds everyone of a dancer. She slips from her mug like it's the most normal thing anyone could do.

Bill blinks at her. Fry snickers, puts down her coffee, and moves to the counter. Giving the redhead a teasing expression she says, "A light red ale, please." Now Carolyn isn't sure that this will work, but she figures what the hell. She imagines her favorite beer from her flight school days and then opens the door. There's a tall frosty glass inside filled with a ruddy brownish bubbly liquid. The topping foam has a slightly peachy color, and the overall shade of the ale is off just slightly, but it smells exactly like she remembers. "Here you go, Bill," she says as she places it on the table.

"I think I love this ship." The redhead slides into a seat and picks up the glass, carefully sipping the brew. "Um, wow. This is good. I never had this before."

"There was a little pub on Scorpio Prime that sold it. I used to go there on break from pilot school."

They sink into silence for a while, just enjoying the safety. Simon comes in looking like he's haunted. Freshly showered and dressed in casual clothes, but unable to lay the experience to rest. He walks to the cupboard and says, "Tea, herbal, not picky, just not bitter. Thank you Verity." He removes a standard teacup with orange steaming liquid in it. He sips and yawns, leaning against the counter.

"So what's with 'verity' anyhow?" Johns asks.

"It's her name." River looks at William, "Why ask such pointless questions when you really want to know if the Doctor and Richard are involved in intimacy?"

Billy flushes, "Because I've been reminded several times to not stick my dick where it don't belong. I might be thick, but I'm not stupid." After a beat he adds, "Are they?"

Carolyn lets out a little laugh, "Bill."

"What? Hey, she brought it up. Aren't you all wondering?"

Abu clears his throat; "I, for one, am not. What they do, or don't do, is their business."

"That's noble. Really. But for me to sprout that would be bullshit, and you'd all know it."

River studies the dregs of her mug like universal secrets exist there for a moment, "They are, but not like you think. Our survival cost the storm, cut him in ways that only the deepest of empathy will heal. Not everything that happened was the product of chance."

Simon furrows his brow. His mind tries to piece together all the bits of the past nightmare that might be clues and he comes up with the impression that he is missing too much of the evidence to make sense of it.

"Where did the nude fighters come from, that's what I want to know," Fry says.

River answers, "The Conservatory."

"Is that where the Doctor and Richard were taken when they parted from us?" Imam inquires.

Bill nods. "Yep, and remember how the white haired bitch talked about having Rich and the Doc 'mounted' after the fight in the pit?"

Simon pales, "Surely you're not thinking --"

"The insane cunt had all those people in cryo. On display. That's what I'm thinking." Bill says has he points at the dark haired man. "And I'm betting that somehow the Doctor pulled another trick like he did with Junner and set them free. Why else could we have made that run with only one group of five mercs behind us? Not to mention the fact that the bitch showed up alone. All her manpower had to be tied up trying to contain the resulting chaos."

The cup falls from Simon's hand and River moves from her chair and to the floor fast enough to catch it. The elder Tam looks down at her, blinking. "He is right." She offers him the empty cup back. He takes it because it's the polite thing to do.

"How?" Simon, Carolyn, and Bill ask at the same time.

"Verity told me. I asked her. She has been very troubled." River moves back to her chair totally ignoring the fact that they are asking how she knew to catch Simon's cup when she'd been so focused on her own.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Eleven years this war's been fought. Eleven years of matching one with another, making due, keepin' up, living to fight another day. Eleven years today, he signed up, by universal time. Not that anyone marks the passage but him, with the hell going on around him at the moment. It's just another day in the life of a browncoat that is making the purplebelly behemoth choke on its words. The screams and explosions and ratt-tatt-tatt of gunfire all fade in the background of the huge blast that just misses him. He leaps, lightly lands and keeps running. Another blast goes off and his trained instinct makes him hit the dirt. After a pause, Malcolm Reynolds, Sergeant in the Independent forces, regains his feet and runs into the foxhole where the rest of his people are.

Greene Baker, on the radio hails him first, "Sergeant, Command says air support is holding till they can assess our status."

Mal spares him a glance, "Our status is that we need some gorram air support. Now get back on line and tell 'em to get in here."

His right hand, Corporal Zoë Alleyne, gives him the status report that he already knows, but coming from her it sounds much worse than he expected it to, "That skiff is shredding us, sir."

Behind him, Greene calls, "They won't move without a lieutenant's authorization code, sir."

Oh, of all the – He steps away from Zoë and looks around, spotting the closest Lieutenant. The man is very dead. He won't be needing the rank anymore. Mal rips the badge off and hands it to the radio operator, "Here, here's your code. You're Lieutenant Baker. Congratulations on your promotion. Now get me some air support!" Then he turns back to business and finds his second waiting calmly as only she can, "Pull back, just enough to wedge 'em in here. Get your squad to high ground, start picking 'em off."

She doesn't quite balk at the order, just points out the obvious flaw in the plan, "High ground is death with that skiff in the air."

At this Mal gives her a crazy grin, and she knows he's got a plan that might just save their asses if it doesn't get them killed, "That's our problem. Thanks for volunteering." He looks back at another man, "Bendis, give us some cover fire. We're going duck hunting." A blast, mighty close, causes the earth to shiver and roll. They are getting closer. He looks around. Is it him, or do these boys look like – boys? He's getting younger troops all the time. He knows they ain't green, but they ain't all his from the get go either. He's scraped them together from this unit and that unit, lucky ones from here and there. And at the moment they all look pretty shocked. Just one more hour, "Just focus!" He scans them again, "The Alliance said they were gonna waltz through Serenity Valley and we choked 'em with those words. We've done the impossible and that makes us mighty. Just a little while longer, our angels are gonna be soaring overhead raining fire on those arrogant cod, so you hold!" He grips one of them on the shoulder, "You hold! Go!" His men scramble to provide cover fire as the two leaders prepare to pull another miracle out of their hats.

Leaning in close Zoë says, "Really think we can bring her down, sir?"

He replies with an eye roll, "Do you even need to ask?" Then he kisses the cross he always wears, "Ready?"

"Always." She watches Mal go, readies to follow, and notices that the solider being counted on the most has frozen again, "Bendis? Bendis!" He looks like he gonna shit his pants, and she knows he's got more experience than that. But there's no time for this. "Rut it." She's just gonna have to do it herself. So she does, no time for second thoughts, just lay down the cover fire, and keep Mal in sight, and then follow like she's got all the protection in the world, bluffing it every step of the way. Then again, boulders are good too, she thinks as she ducks behind some.

Down below her, Mal lets a spray off into the bushes, and the purplebelly there moves out of the cover to return fire. It's an Independent gun, after all, and Mal wants it back. And you don't grow up on Shadow without becoming a crack shot. It only take one bullet to end a life. Funny that the Alliance only put one guard on this gun. Rather overconfident of them. He quickly pulls it back online and takes aim on the skiff. One deep breath later and he scores a direct hit. "Yeah!" he bounces back to watch 'er fall. Oh, but wait… it's coming right at him! Ohhh shit! He spins on his heel and books it back up hill. "Zoë!" She glances, sees, runs… Mal reaches her and they both hit the ground, flat. The skiff hits, tumbles, and plows past them finally exploding. Mal laughs.

All she can do is shake her head at him. Crazy man. But it worked. And they lived. So she gamely follows him back to the foxhole. "Nice cover fire," she snaps at Bendis.

Mal is flying high, "Did you see that? Greene, what's our status on..." but there's no point in finishing, as the boy looks rather splattered, "Zoë." She looks from one focus to Mal then to where he's pointing. Damn. Lieutenants never last long on the battlefield. She moves to check on him, knowing already that he's dead and maybe the radio is too. From one extreme to the other. He kneels next to Bendis. "Hey, listen to me. Bendis, look at me! Listen, we're holding this valley no matter what."

The kid looks at him and when did Bendis become a kid? Mal thinks. "We're gonna die," Bendis says. It's a half sob, those words.

He shakes his head, having just brought down a gorram skiff by himself, he can't believe that anyone would lose hope, "We're not gonna die. We can't die, Bendis. You know why?" He waits for the reaction and doesn't get one. Well, onto the punch line, "Because we are so very pretty. We are just too pretty for God to let us die. Huh? Look at that chiseled jaw. Huh? C'mon." The roar overhead makes him glance over at Zoe who is on the wire, "If you won't listen to me, listen to that. Those are our angels coming to blow the Alliance to the hot place." He puts a hand on Bendis' shoulder and calls over to his second, "Zoe, tell the 82nd --"

"They're not coming." She's got a look like she's been slapped, "Command says it's too hot. They're pulling out. We're to lay down arms."

Mal understands her expression now. He feels the same way. He looks at Bendis. "But what's --" Maybe it's morbid, but he has to see for himself… They are being left behind. God has fled. Beside him Bendis falls to an enemy bullet but Mal's too in shock to notice. Eleven years this war's been fought…