Soli Deo gloria
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. Or Photo Shop.
I'm putting the time of this story to be around 2008.
It was early morning in London, and Rose groggily walked around the apartment she shared with her mum. She wiped at her eyes (the TV played on in the background) and noticed her mum sitting at the kitchen table, a cup in one hand while her other held up a newspaper. "Morning, Mum," Rose said, yawning as she headed into the kitchen.
"Oh, morning, sweetheart," Jackie said. Rose found a mug and filled it with hot water from the tea kettle and a tea bag. She held onto it with both hands, warming herself with it. "Have you seen the news yet?"
"No," Rose said as she walked into the big room of their apartment. "Just woke up," she muttered under her breath. She took a seat in one of the kitchen table chairs as Jackie continued, "There's a man with exploding skin!"
"That's the case I've been working on with the Doctor," Rose said tiredly.
"Really? How's that going? Strange way to die. Is it true? Have you got a lead yet?" Jackie asked.
"The Doctor and I are going to check out the address to the victim's friends," Rose said.
"Really? Just the two of you going?" Jackie asked, putting down the newspaper.
"Jack's got stuff to do, Mickey's got a laptop to decipher, and Donna never leaves the office."
"Okay, then. . ."
Rose looked up from her tea and with a small smile, asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, nothing at all, sweetheart. Want me to fix you some toast?"
"You implying something, Mum?"
"Aren't you two going to the pub together?" Jackie asked, smoothing the newspaper.
"Yeah, in a couple of days, but that's it, Mum," Rose said. She was pretty sure that was it, anyway. Knowing the Doctor and his quirky ways, though, she wasn't quite sure if that'd be their only time out in the pub together. "We're going to meet Donna and Jack, but then we'll go out, just us two."
"Well, all right, then," Jackie said, standing up. Rose shook her head with a smile as her mum disappeared into the kitchen, asking, "Want eggs with your toast?"
"Mels, hurry up!" Amy said, peering out of the passenger's window.
Rory shivered as his hands clung tightly to the steering wheel of his new-used car. "Do you have to have the window open? It's freezing in here," he said.
"I know, but I don't feel like getting out. She's getting her boots on," Amy said, for she was able to see Mels walking around on her porch, looking for something. "Come on, Mels!"
It was the next morning and as Rory didn't have any more classes for the rest of the day, the three of them were heading out to London for lunch and craft shopping. Rory had just returned from two classes, the back of his car having a stack of papers for him to deal with. He'd gone and picked up Amy, who had a long list of stuff to get for the Raggedy Man's new house, a big blue box called the TARDIS.
They phoned Mels, but she hadn't heard them drive up or something and was busy diddly-daddingly on her porch. She eventually found her boots and hurried over, calling to Amy, "Hey, I want the passenger seat!"
"Should have gotten here sooner then, Mels," Amy said as Mels went into the backseat.
"Wait, careful, I've got medical stuff," Rory said, turning to see Mels sitting on his tests, ". . . back there."
"Sorry," Mels said, sitting up and shoving the tests out from under her. "Hurry up and drive, Rory."
The three of them hurried down the road, Amy bringing the window back up, making Rory relieved. They traveled along and managed to get to London in good time. Rory had a new GPS getting them through a neighborhood.
"Shouldn't we be taking the regular roads, Rory?" Amy asked.
"I'm—I'm listening to the GPS," Rory said.
Mels in the backseat flipped through Rory's homework, making faces at them as she read them. "All this is some sort of alien language. Yeah, Rory, don't trust those GPS systems. Always making mistakes."
"Yeah, tell me that after I buy it. You're being real helpful, Mels," Rory said. He nodded to the manual on the dashboard and said, "It says it's reliable."
Amy opened the manual and read aloud in a I-told-you-so voice, "'The ATMOS system is 91% accurate, nearly 17% more accurate than any other system on the market.' Yeah, we're so reassured, Rory."
"Look, I'm no good with this sort of stuff; so lay off, okay, please?" Rory said as he turned.
"Sure, all right, then," Amy said, "but I get to open the window."
"Fine," Rory said, and Amy smiled as the window scrolled down and she stuck her face out. She watched as the houses slowly moved by. The lamps looked like they should be on, the way it was so grey and cold out.
"Think it'll snow?" Amy wondered.
"Maybe. Would be something fun to see, Rory driving in the snow," Mels said teasingly.
"Thanks, Mels," Rory said in a voice that sounded like he very much did not want it to snow at all.
Amy looked about the driveways and the gates around some small yard and she suddenly caught sight of something hiding in one of the corners where the gates met. "Hey, is that snow?" she asked, pointing to the object.
"Don't know. Stop the car, Rory," Mels said quickly.
Rory looked confused as he parked near the sidewalk, and Amy and Mels scrambled out. Mels knocked his papers about as she ran over to the object, making him groan as he said, "Mels!"
"Sorry!" Mels said. Rory sighed and began to pick up the papers. The two teen girls looked at the object(s)? strangely. Mels was on her knees, picking it up.
"Whoa, careful, Mels," Amy said.
"Don't be such a mother hen, Amy," Mels said as Rory came over and peeked over her shoulder.
"What are they?" Rory asked.
"I think they're eggs," Amy said in a slightly awed voice.
"Eggs? From what animal? They're huge!" Rory said.
"I think they're pretty," Mels said, standing up, the basket with three eggs that were the sizes of huge apples in her hands.
"Yeah, pretty big," Rory said.
"What are they doing here?" Amy wondered.
"We're keeping them," Mels said as she turned and headed to the car.
"Wait, what? Mels, someone could be looking for them! What are huge looking eggs doing out on the sidewalk, anyway?" Rory asked as Amy followed Mels. "Am I the only one sort of weirded out here?"
"Yeah," Amy said cheerfully, turning with a grin to Rory.
"Well, what are we going to do with them?" Rory asked as he hurried to the driver's side, shoving his papers into the front.
"So you're going to help us hatch them?" Amy asked.
"I guess so," Rory said, looking at the backseat with Mels putting her scarf on them.
"Let's go, then," Amy said cheerfully, and Rory nodded wearily as he started the car back up.
"Dr. Jones?" Martha turned to see the leader of the detective apartment beckoning her into his office. It was the day after the murder, and Martha had just come over to see if she could get the report back and talk to people when she heard Master Harold Saxon. He wanted them to call him that instead of Mister. Said he liked old English stuff. Everyone just shrugged and went with it.
"Yes?" Martha said, walking into his office. He was at his desk, his legs on his desk, a smile on his face. His blonde hair looking nearly tailored, though the rest of him looked rather ruffled, despite the smile on his face.
"Martha," he said, the tips of his fingers tapping together. "I just read the official report you signed."
Martha said, "How did you like it?"
"It was . . . intriguing. I've never thought that a victim could die due to, as you put it, Dr. Jones," Saxon said as he threw the report next to his feet and made his fingers crunge up, "'exploding skin.'"
"Neither did I, Master Saxon, but there's a first time for everything," Martha said. She shrugged toward the report and said, "That's what I found on the body yesterday. No ruptured organs, no cuts or bruises or poisonous fluids. Just ruptured blood veins."
"So, there wasn't any other cause of death?" Saxon said pleasantly.
"None," Martha said. "Sir, if you think that I'm lying, I'm not. That's what happened to him."
"Dr. Jones, how many people are honestly going to believe that a man died because of exploding skin?" Saxon said, his legs leaving the desk as he sat up straight. He still smiled as he said, "The body's supposed to be buried tomorrow, Dr. Jones. I suggest you take another examination before he's taken to the funeral home."
"Sir, I know that I didn't make a mistake," Martha said quickly, "he died—he was murdered. The cause of death was exploding skin, and I would think you don't want me to lie on the report."
"I wouldn't say 'lie', I said, 'Find another cause of death'," said Saxon.
"You mean lying?" Martha said, her voice sounding on edge.
"Find another cause of death before the newspaper decides to get wind of this, Dr. Jones," Saxon said, his voice sounding not so pleasant.
"But I found his cause of death, sir, and it's exploding skin," Martha argued when a knock came on Saxon's office door. Martha turned to see Donna holding up a newspaper, looking frantic as she said, "Oi, paper!"
"What is it, Donna?" asked Saxon, putting his fingers back into their other position. He sounded irritated.
"The paper came today. Has the murder and report and all that in it," Donna said, holding up the paper.
"What?" Saxon said as Donna hurried over and gave it to him. He hastily looked over it, looking angry as he said, "It has the death being 'exploding skin!'" He looked up to Martha and said, "Did you release this statement?"
"No," Martha said.
"There's nobody from here quoted," Donna pointed out.
"I can see that, Donna," Saxon said, folding up the newspaper, looking annoyed. "How did they get this information? Donna, start bringing people into my office." He sighed as he moped his face. "I'll have to question every employee!"
"Sure, Master Saxon," Donna said. She passed Martha, making a loopy sign near her head as she headed to the door.
Martha watched her leave before she turned back to Saxon and said, "Is that it, then, sir?"
"Nope. Sit down, Dr. Jones," Saxon said, breathing heavily. "I have a few questions."
It was nearly ten-thirty when Martha was finally done. She sighed as she closed the office door, annoyed as she fetched her jacket. She passed by Mickey, who was headed to the office, and he turned to her and said, "You all right?"
"What? Oh, yeah," Martha said, pushing some of the hair that had gotten out of her ponytail out of her face. "Just—he takes a while."
"Yeah, I know," Mickey said. He lifted his hand, which had the paper, and said, "He read it?"
"Why do you think he's calling us all in?" Martha asked.
"Yeah. What's he mad about, anyway? That the public knows there's another death in London?" Mickey said.
"He doesn't like the cause of death. Says the public won't believe it and will start asking questions," Martha said. She looked to her jacket and said, "Look, I'm really busy. I gotta find a word, and—yeah."
"Yeah, all right. See you later, then," Mickey said, and they parted ways, both completely forgetting about the reason that they had stayed up late last night.
Martha put on her dark reddish-purplish leather jacket and passed by Donna, who was taking call after call, sounding annoyed as she put people on hold.
"Isn't that the receptionist's job?" Martha asked, shrugging on her purse.
"She's got a flat tire, and all of the calls are coming up here. Asking about 'exploding skin'. Like I know anything about exploding skin!" Donna said, hurrying with another call. "Hello, London Police Department, Donna speaking. Yeah? Yeah, just a minute, please hold." She carefully put the phone back before she let out a breath.
"How long do you think that'll work?" Martha asked with a slight laugh to her voice.
"It'll have to work until the receptionist comes back," Donna said firmly. Martha smiled and bid Donna goodbye before she hurried to the lift with the order to re-examine the body of Harvey Decker, despite her protests.
The Doctor and Rose looked up from the piece of paper bearing an address to the house in front of them. It was a quiet looking house; supposed to be two separate apartments. It was quite cozy looking, set in a neighborhood with all of the houses next to each other.
"This it?" Rose asked.
"Should be," the Doctor said. He squinted at the address and said, "Unless Donna got the wrong address, which I know she didn't. Donna's brilliant; she wouldn't make a mistake like that."
"Let's hope we can find his friends," Rose said. "You'd think they'd come to the station. They've probably heard of the murder by now."
"Yeah, see the newspaper this morning?" the Doctor asked.
"Yeah, I did. Mum was all over it, commenting on it, asking questions about it. She just kept rambling and rambling," Rose said.
"Well," the Doctor said, pocketing the paper, "let's see if we can answer some of her questions for her."
"Sounds all right," Rose said, and the Doctor grinned as they went up to the door. They opened it after knocking and found two doors. One was up a staircase while the other was on the ground floor. They looked from one to the other and the Doctor said, "The top one."
They headed up and knocked on the door. Rose pressed her ear against the door and the Doctor said, "Hello, we're detectives! We've come to inquire about your buddy, Harvey Decker! Hello?"
"There's no one there," Rose said after a minute.
"Apparently," the Doctor said. He turned around; Rose watched him go down the stairs as he went to the other door.
"What are you doing?" Rose asked him, hurrying down the stairs.
"Asking the neighbors. See if we can find out why the lads are gone," the Doctor said brightly, and he knocked on the door before sticking his hands in his pockets. They didn't get a response at first, but eventually the door opened to reveal the neighbor. He had golden brown hair and he looked sort of pudgy. He looked at the two for a moment, revealing the sounds of the TV in the background, and said, "Hello, can I help you with something?"
"Yes, yes you can. I'm the Doctor, and this is my companion, Rose," the Doctor said, offering his hand.
The neighbor shook his hand, saying, "Craig. Can I help you two with something?"
"Yeah, you can. We're detectives from over in London, and we're trying to solve a murder," Rose said. Craig looked surprised and Rose quickly said, "Don't worry, we're just wondering about your neighbors upstairs."
"Neighbors? I don't have neighbors upstairs," Craig said as a voice called from inside the apartment, "Who's there, Craig?"
"Nobody, Sophie," Craig said, turning over his shoulder. He looked back to the Doctor, who said, "Is she a neighbor?"
"Nah, Soph's just a friend," Craig said as she came up behind him.
"Who are you talking to? That's not nobody," Sophie said. She turned to the Doctor and Rose and said, "Hello."
"Hello, we're detectives. Rose Tyler, and the Doctor," Rose said.
"What are you here for? Craig do something?" Sophie asked.
"No, I didn't," Craig said in the background as the Doctor said, "We're here inquiring about the neighbors upstairs, Sophie. Craig, did you say that there's no neighbors up there?"
"Yeah. There used to be an old man up there, forgot his name, but he died a couple of months back. Nobody's living up there now," Craig said.
The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed and said, "Well, that's strange."
"How?" Sophie asked.
"We're investigating a murder," Rose said, making Craig look pale and Sophie put her hand to her mouth. "Someone by the name of Harvey Decker was found in a neighborhood in London. We heard he had friends here, but the address is apparently a dud."
"Yeah, do any of you know anyone by the names of Larry and George Carluson?" the Doctor asked. Both of the young adults shook their heads, making the Doctor say, "That's ood."
"'Ood?' Don't you mean 'odd?'" Rose asked, looking to the Doctor.
"Probably," the Doctor said.
Rose smiled at him before she turned back to Craig and Sophie, saying, "Well, thank you. We'll call you if we have any questions, and you just call the station if you remember something or other or whatever."
"All right. Nice meeting you," Sophie said before heading back into the apartment.
Craig watched her leave before he turned back to the two detectives, leaning against the doorway. "All right, so if there's anything, I'll call."
"Yep," Rose said. "Come on, Doctor," she said before she hurried to the exit.
The Doctor nodded before turning to Craig and saying in a quiet voice, "Tell her."
"Tell her? Who? What?" Craig asked, looking surprised.
"Your friend, Sophie. It's obvious, Craig," the Doctor said, a cheerful twinkle in his eye. He winked and said, "You know what I mean," before he nodded and hurried over to the door.
"No, I don't!" Craig said as the door closed. He shook his head after a moment and turned back to the apartment.
It was late afternoon when Rory, Amy, and Mels got back to Amy's house. The girls smiled quickly to Amy's parents and hurried up the stairs, basket and bags in their hands. Amy's mother looked at them incredulously, and Rory held up the bags full of craft stuff and said, "We're going to . . . build stuff."
"All right. Have fun," Mrs. Pond said. Rory nodded and hurried up the stairs into Amy's room. The stuff was put on her bed and he watched the two girls, who were both cross-legged on the floor, the basket between them. Mels leaned down toward them while Amy had her head between her hands.
"Should I lock the door?" Rory asked.
"Duh, Rory. Wouldn't want someone coming in and finding these babies," Mels said.
"What are they?" Amy asked.
"Don't know, seeing as we know about as much as we did when we picked them up," Rory said sarcastically as he took on a seat on the floor. The basket was brown, and had the three eggs nestled between some hay.
"They've got to be something, like a bird nobody's heard of," Amy suggested.
"Sure, we'll just find a rare bird nobody's heard of in the middle of London," Rory said crossly.
"Maybe they're alien. They don't look like they're from Earth," Mels suggested. She looked delighted as she lay on her stomach and looked on to the eggs as if she was their mother.
"They can't just be alien," Amy said, waving her hand about absentmindedly. "I mean, alien eggs just don't pop out of nowhere."
"Can you prove that, Amy?" Mels said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"Well, no, but—there just can't be alien eggs in London!" Amy said quickly. She looked over her shoulder at Rory, who had his hands in his pockets and shrugged.
"What do you reckon we should do?" she said, looking up to him.
"I don't know," Rory said, sighing.
"Wonder when they'll hatch," Mels said dreamily.
"Hopefully not soon," Amy said before looking thoughtful. "Rory, go to my laptop. Start looking them up."
"All right," Rory said, looking a bit hesitant before he went over to her bed where her laptop was. He began to type as he added, "Remember, I have homework to work on!"
"That can wait. This could be extraterrestrial, Rory!" Mels said.
Rory sighed as he typed. "Sure. This is much more important than getting a medical degree."
"Anything?" Amy asked, scooting over to the edge of her bed.
"Not much," Rory said, hunched over the computer. "I put in 'alien eggs' and there's nothing but people photo shopping stuff."
"Weird Internet nerds," Mels said. "Though, often reliable. Be more specific."
"How!?" Rory asked, throwing up his hands. "Look at them!" The three of them turned to look at the eggs, which was unmoved. "They're not doing anything but sitting there! They look like giant chicken eggs!"
"Look up 'giant chicken eggs,' then!" Amy said.
"Okay," Rory said, and he typed it in. He shook his head and said, "Nothing. Just people with mutant chickens having mutant eggs."
"That's weird," Amy said.
"Definitely," Rory said.
"So we might never know what they are?" Amy asked.
"Maybe not," Rory said. He looked at the eggs and said, "What do we do now?"
"Wellllllll," Amy said, standing up. She put her hands on her hips and said, "Rory, you can do your homework, and Mels and I can start working on the TARDIS."
"Who's going to keep an eye on the eggs, then?" asked Rory.
"Oh, don't worry, Rory. We all will. We'll manage," Mels said. She smiled mischievously and said, "After all, they're not doing anything."
I hope you liked it, and thank you for reading!