Soli Deo gloria

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who.

Donna's quick fingers picked out a file and picking it up, she hurried across the room to the desk of Detective Jack Harkness. He sat in a swivel chair and spun around lazily as she frowned at him.

"Here's the file you requested, lazy arse," she said, swatting him with it.

He grinned as he grabbed it from her and said, "Thank you very much, Donna."

"You're welcome," Donna said a bit sarcastically. She leaned against the wall and tilting her head, said, "Is that the victim's file?"

"Yeah. Just looking to get a more detailed look at his life, see if there's anything noteworthy that might have gotten him killed," Jack said as he quickly read the file.

"I thought he was already dead?" Donna asked him. She threw up a hand. "See? Being at the office all of the bloody time, all I get is secondhand news, and who even knows if it's true anymore?"

"You gotta get out of this office," Jack said, setting the file down on his desk.

"You're telling me," Donna said. "Anything on him?"

"Nothing. Not a crime on him, criminal family member or much personality to him at all," Jack said, leaning against his swivel chair's back with his hands behind his head. "Wouldn't know why anyone would kill him."

"Where does he live?" Donna asked Jack.

"Leadworth. The Doctor and Rose are going out to talk to his mum," Jack sighed. "Long way out."

"Yeah. So why's he here in London?" Donna asked. "Why would he come all the way out from little ol' Leadworth here to London? Was he visiting someone, doing business or something?"

"That is a very good point, Donna," Jack said, pointing a finger at her with a sly grin. He sat upright and began to write on a piece of paper. "You really should get out of the office more."

"Well, I'm kinda stuck here. There's not much else I can apply for, job-wise," Donna said, watching him write.

"The Doctor believes you can be a good detective," Jack said. He grinned as he looked to her, "You can be my partner instead of Mickey Mouse."

"Nah. I'll have to stick with accounting and sorting and making coffee for the moment," Donna said. She straightened as she said, "How's the Doctor doing with Rose, anyway? Sees to me they look like they're fancying each other."

"NO? Really? Never would have noticed. Thank you, Donna," Jack said with a laugh.

"I get bored. Start thinking about stuff. They like each other all right," Donna said. She leaned down to Jack and said, "But, I think the thing is there's someone else keeping an eye on him."

"Really?" Jack asked, actually sounding a bit surprised. "Who?"

"Well, just Martha, but I think she's gotten over it. When I do see her looking at him occasionally—you know how people after work go down to that little pub down the street?" Donna said.

"Every night I'm there. Maybe we should get drinks sometime," Jack said.

"We'll see 'bout that," Donna said seriously, making Jack laugh even more. "Oi, stop that! Anyway, I meet up with the lot from here sometimes, though only on occasion. Mum and Gramps like it when I'm home earlier. Well, Gramps not really. He likes it when I go out. Mum likes me home, though, don't know why. She's always complaining about my job."

"They're not together, though," Jack said, back to the topic of the Doctor and Rose. "I definitely would have noticed," Jack said, moving his swivel chair about.

"Not than I can tell either. But, he fancies Rose, and she fancies him," Donna said. She was not usually such a gossip, but things around the office was kind of slow, and it was a chilly morning in February and she did not want to make a cup of tea for the police officer holding a delinquent downstairs.

"So they fancy each other?" Jack said thoughtfully as Jack could say anything thoughtfully.

"Yep, and none of them are saying a word about it," Donna said. She sighed as she glanced at the clock and said, "I've got to go fetch a cuppa for an officer."

"Yeah, you do that, Donna," Jack said as she hurried away. He leaned back in his swivel chair, his hands grasping the armrests, and he nodded to himself. All the times the Doctor and Rose went out to the pub after work, all the laughter they did together. They were partners, professionally speaking, but they did seem to hang out more than they would.

Maybe Donna had a point. No. Donna most definitely had a point.

The Doctor and Rose walked side by side in Leadworth, making their way to the house of Mrs. Decker. It wasn't snowing—yet, strictly speaking—though the Doctor was hoping for snow. He loved snow.

Rose frowned as she hugged herself, saying, "So the cab needs to get more petrol."

"Yeah. Bit unfortunate for us, though it is only a half of mile away," the Doctor said quietly. "A walk will do us both good anyways."

"That's true," Rose said as she looked on ahead. There was a little town square and three roads. Their frowns grew a little as they stopped near a bench.

"Which way, then?" Rose said.

"Not . . . sure," the Doctor said. He turned to her and said, "The house is supposed to be on Balding Street, right?"

"Yeah," Rose said, holding up the report. "We just have to find the street."

"Well, this means we have to do something that I haven't had to do in a long time, Rose Tyler," the Doctor said with a smile.

"What?" Rose asked him, her hair whipping about behind her because of the wind.

"We're going to have to ask for directions," the Doctor said. He looked about the square and noticed three late teenagers walking together, all holding some sort of toy.

"Excuse me," the Doctor said, hurrying over to the trio. They stopped to look at him and a redheaded girl said in a Scottish accent, "What?"

Rose hurried after the Doctor and the Doctor waved over to her, saying, "Hello. My companion and I are new around here and we're looking for Balding Street." He looked to the three roads and said, "Which one is it?"

"Oh, it's the one on the left," said the one boy in the trio, a brown-haired boy with a long nose. "Most definitely the one on the left."

"It's the one in the center, Rory. Don't be stupid," said the other part of the trio, a dark-skinned girl with braids sticking out all about her head. "Thought you were good with streets."

"Mels, no, it's the right one," said the redhead. She looked to both of her friends and said, "You're both wrong."

"No, I'm not," said Rory the same time that Mels said, "It's the center one, Amy!"

"No, it isn't, Mels," Amy said firmly.

"It's the center, Amy Pond, and don't be a fool for once and listen to me," Mels said teasingly.

"But I always thought it was the—the left one. I've been getting it wrong my whole life?" said Rory, sounding a bit horrified.

Amy ignored them both and said to the Doctor, "It'll be the right one to Balding Street. You take a left after it and then another left and it'll take you there."

"Thank you very much, Amy," the Doctor said with a beam. His smile faded slightly as he pointed to her and said, "Your real name is Amelia, right?"

"That is what Amy is short for," Amy said.

"All right. Thank you Amelia, Rory, Mels," the Doctor said. Rose waved goodbye as they turned and went down the right street, leaving the trio of friends behind.

"Weird lot," she said, sticking her hands into her pockets and looking to the Doctor. She knew that he knew that she didn't mean that in a bad way. She and the Doctor were the weirdest in their little band at the department. Being weird was fun, though, and she so often wondered why her mother gave her odd looks.

"Nice kids," the Doctor said, and as they walked along the right street, a police car drove by them, and Rose looked at the Doctor and said, "Well, we just could have waited to see the car show up."

"Where's the fun in meeting new people if you just watch for the ones you already know?" the Doctor asked Rose.

Rose shrugged and sighing, said, "Oh, that poor old lady. She's going to be a proper wreck when we meet her."

"Understandable," the Doctor said quietly. "Remember, we have to keep quiet and respectful. It's been a hard morning for her." Rose nodded, knowing that was what you had to act when you were in the presence of mourning relatives; they took two lefts and came upon the late Harvey Decker's mum's house.

It was a nice tall, brown house with big windows in the front. There was an overgrown garden full of weeds and yellow grass and a cracked old statue was near a gurgling fountain. The path ahead of them was made out of rocks all put together like a rough puzzle and stuck together by mud. The duo passed through a yellow vined canopy and they were at the front door, the police already gone.

"They work fast," Rose said, her body going up and down in the cold.

"Police officers are like that. Unfortunately for everyone else, we're not like that," and the Doctor stuck out his fist and rapped at the door. He stuck his hand back into his pocket and he and Rose watched the door for a moment before it slowly creaked open.

Before them was a woman, maybe mid-sixties, wearing a dark scarlet sweater and black pants. She had grey-white hair fluffed around her scalp; she was clearly sniffling as she wiped at her eye with a handkerchief.

"Hello, Mrs. Decker. My name's the Doctor, and this is my companion Rose Tyler," the Doctor said, offering his hand at the same time as Rose. The woman only sniffed and they embarrassingly brought their hands back to their pockets. The Doctor straightened and said, "So, so sorry about your son."

"Who are you?" Mrs. Decker finally said.

"We're detectives from the station. We're investigating your son's murder," Rose said.

"Shouldn't you be his partner then, not his companion?" Mrs. Decker asked, looking from the Doctor to Rose.

"Technically," said Rose.

"But she's really more of a companion," the Doctor said.

"Never was much of a business partner with him anyways," Rose said.

"If we're going to get technical, yes. But who wants to get technical? So, yeah. Companion," the Doctor said. He tilted his head and said, "Mind if we come in?"

"We have a couple of questions," Rose said quietly. "If that's all right, of course."

"Yes. If it's all right," the Doctor said.

"No, no, come in," Mrs. Decker said, sniffing as she opened the door. The Doctor and Rose went in and closing the door, Mrs. Decker said, "I'll fix some tea."

The Doctor watched her head to the kitchen before he looked around the cozy living room. It had a worn green loveseat and a coffee table covered in mail and yarn. A cat sat on a sofa chair; the curtains had lacy edges.

"Nice little place. You Brits are so quaint," the Doctor said, looking about. "Absolutely fascinating."

"Hey, it isn't like you're not from England, Doctor," Rose said.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," the Doctor said.

"What do you mean?" Rose asked him curiously.

"I'm not telling you," the Doctor said teasingly, and Rose rolled her eyes at him playfully. The two of them took seats as Rose said, "Can I help you with anything, Mrs. Decker, or shall we start with the questioning?"

"Just—please, a minute, dear. Just a minute," and in a few minutes, Mrs. Decker sniffled over a cuppa in the sofa chair. The Doctor and Rose were squished on the green loveseat, the cat sitting between them. They looked at each other then at the cat, which looked like the king of the loveseat. Rose shrugged and the Doctor wrinkled his nose.

"Cats," he said. The Doctor was not a fan of cats. The Doctor took a sip of his tea, watching the cat while Rose said, "Mrs. Decker, we're looking for anything unusual about Harvey. Does he have any important friends or anything?"

The Doctor spat out his tea, having burned his tongue, as Mrs. Decker set down her teacup and said, "Well, no. You see, Harvey barely has any friends. He has a couple, but they work at his insurance company. I've never even seen them. Harvey says—said that they were good friends." She blew her nose. She said, "The policemen didn't tell me how Harvey was killed. Tell me. How did he?"

Rose gulped and looking to the Doctor, who was occupied with his tea, turned back and said, "They say that his skin exploded."

"That's not true. Is it?" Mrs. Decker said, horrified, before she buried his nose in her hankie once more. "My dear little boy!"

Rose sighed and said, "That's all we have so far. Shall I go on?"

"Yes. Do," Mrs. Decker said, sighing. "I'll be fine."

"Of course. Was there anything at his job that might make someone want to, you know," Rose said as the Doctor coughed next to her. She quickly turned to the Doctor, who was bent over, and hit him on his back, saying, "Cough it out! Don't be so fast next time!"

"Stupid tea," the Doctor said, straightening after a moment, setting his teacup down. He looked at his teacup a moment before he said, "I didn't mean that." He looked to Mrs. Decker and said, "Yes, what Rose said. Anything peculiar happen these past few days? Anything at work that happened to mention?"

"Well, no. He didn't mention anything. He'd just come in from work and eat his supper like a good boy. He's like that. He's so quiet. How did he get MURDERED?" Mrs. Decker said, wiping at her nose.

Rose looked at the Doctor before she turned to Mrs. Decker. "We were thinking that maybe your son overhead something or other. We—we had found his body in London. Do you know why he was there?"

"He said he was going to go to a pub with his friends," Mrs. Decker said.

"At a pub in London? Isn't there a pub here in Leadworth?" Rose asked.

"He said his friends wanted to go to that particular pub," Mrs. Decker said.

Rose pulled out a pad and pen and leaning forward, asked, "What's the name of the pub?"

"The Blind Bottle, I think?" Mrs. Decker said. Rose dotted down the words on her pad and said, "We'll go there and see if anyone saw them last night."

"Wait, Rose, isn't that that little pub we always go to?" the Doctor asked her.

"Shush for a minute," Rose said, giving the Doctor a warning look, making him widen his eyes at her before she continued, "So there's nothing unusual about Harvey at all. No girlfriend, no nothing?"

"He lived at home. He—he was going to move out when he got enough money, but he never did have enough. Though, he was awfully worried acting this week, though excited. He said he might have found a way to make more money. He never told me what that way is, of course," Mrs. Decker said quietly. "Like I said, a quiet boy."

A quiet man who was in his mid-forties. Rose frowned as she jotted down more on her paper.

"Why would he be acting like that? Does he have any hobbies of sorts, weird things? Not the usual stamp or rock collecting. Who gets murdered when your hobby is collecting stamps and rocks? No one, that's who. Anything weird he did on a regular basis that could be seen as weird by other people?" the Doctor said.

Mrs. Decker straightened as she said, "Well, there is the shed."

"You have a shed?" Rose said.

"Yes. You see, Harvey goes in there all the time. I think he thinks that he has an alien laboratory in his shed," Mrs. Decker said calmly.

Rose and the Doctor exchanged a look before they both turned to her and said at the same time, "Show us."

Martha wrinkled her nose slightly as she circled the body. She now wore her lab coat, and all around her were instruments, all clean and sterilized. Mickey stood in the corner, having been told not to touch anything.

"Exploding skin?" Martha said, looking at a copy of the report.

"Is that accurate?" Mickey asked her. "Really, did his skin explode?"

Martha looked at his hand and said, "Well, I guess so. Though I can't imagine how it went down."

Mickey walked over to the other side of the body and said, "How can you explode someone's skin?"

"I'm not sure. Someone's either messing with us or really smart," said Martha, removing her gloves. She tossed them away and began to write down on the official medical report.

"No other injuries, then?" Mickey wondered.

"Nothing to the organs. Major blood loss, though that's to be expected," Martha said. She frowned and said, "This is the first time I've come upon a victim with erupted blood veins."

"Could it be some sort of disease instead?" Mickey asked. "You know. He's somewhere in London and he suddenly had an attack or reaction or something and he dies."

"There's no disease that has someone's blood veins exploding, Mickey," Martha said as she wrote fiercely at the report.

"Sure?"

"Very."

"All right, so now we have a victim that had a weird way to go," Mickey said.

"Exactly," Martha said, handing the report over to Mickey. She sighed as they headed to the door. "I'll get a coroner for him."

"So we've got a report saying his skin exploded?" Mickey said. "That's our final report?"

"Yes," Martha said quietly as they walked down the halls.

"All right, then," Mickey said, and they walked down the lit hallways for a few minutes before he said quietly, "Sorry for annoying you. The Doctor said I should—"

"It's all right, Mick," Martha said as she opened a door and they headed through. "You were just listening to the Doctor."

"Forgiven, then?" Mickey asked.

Martha shot him a grin and said, "Forgiven."

Yes, so thank you for reading, and I hope you liked it! ALLONS-Y!