Chapter 8

Whistling to himself as he walked, Sam Tyler took off his jacket and threw it over his shoulder. It was just about time for his shift to begin. He enjoyed the occasional bit of bar work, a bit of housekeeping in heaven, and of course keeping an eye on Gene from afar. Ever since he'd crossed the line and entered the pub his job had been a unique and important one. Just as Gene was always there to look after his team, Sam was there to keep a watchful eye on Gene.

As he approached the door he was aware that things seemed a little quiet for an average evening in the Railway Arms. Where was the chatter? The rowdy singing? The women slapping Ray for putting his hands in places they shouldn't be?

"Exterminate!"

Well that didn't sound like one of the regulars, that was for absolute certain.

Confused and curious Sam put his hand against the door and pushed it open. The last thing he expected as an overgrown sink plunger aimed in his direction.

"Hi," he frowned. It was the only thing that came to mind.

The Dalek regarded him suspiciously.

"Leather jackets must be exterminated," it told him and an instance of fear crossed his face.

"Oh shit, this isn't a good start to the night," he cried as he leapt behind the bar, leaving the jacket behind. Breathing heavily he found himself next to a terrified Nelson. "Is it too much to ask for a shift where nothing unusual happens?" he demanded.

"Don't be looking at me, this has me shaken to my roots!" Nelson protested as he rose up on his legs and peered over the bar. The Dalek had abandoned the idea of exterminating the leather jacket and instead had returned to motoring up and down the pub.

"Can't you do something?" Sam pleaded.

"Like what?" cried Nelson.

"Bar him?" Sam suggested, "cancel his tab?"

"My friend, I don't think you have as much experience at dealing with terrifying mechanicals as I do," Nelson told him.

"Oh yeah?" Sam looked at him incredulously "when did you get experience with… terrifying mechanicals?"

Nelson looked slightly sheepish.

"When I got my toe stuck in my video player," he admitted. He popped back over the bar and squirted the dalek with a soda syphon in an attempt to repel it but it simply turned around and started to move back in Nelson's direction.

"Oh, good plan," Sam cried, "brilliant plan, now he's come looking for spirits to go with that chaser!"

"Exterminate," the Dalek commented.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"They're the masters of originality, aren't they?" he commented.

"Exterminate," the Dalek repeated, "Eggs… terminate."

Sam and Nelson frowned at one another.

"What was that?" Sam asked.

"Eggs… stir… minate."

Nelson cautiously peered over the bar.

"What did you say, mon brave?"

The dalek turned to him.

"Eggs…" it began, "I… would like… some eggs."

Nelson swallowed.

"We don't do bar food," he apologised.

As the Dalek seemed to become angrier and Nelson feared his collection of I Love London merchandise was about to be frazzled he changed his mind. "But maybe I can make an exception just this once…"

~xXx~

"Simon," Robin joined his friend by the bar, "aren't you coming to dance?"

"Not while everyone's doing that… stupid craze," Simon narrowed his eyes at the dance floor buzzing with people ,

"Oh, lighten up" Robin told him, "it's such a hit everyone loves it!"

"Everyone?"

"Everyone who doesn't hate The Doctor."

Simon's eyes scanned the dance floor looking for someone who wasn't dancing to try to disprove Robin's point but instead his eyes were drawn to a familiar face, and one that he hadn't expected to see.

"Everyone… including dead people," he frowned.

"Well, yeah, goes without saying here," Robin frowned.

"I mean doubly-dead people then," Simon swallowed as he pointed. "Look. Over there."

Robin frowned.

"What?"

"The brunette. Over there."

Rob in squinted as he looked in the direction Simon was pointing. There were so very many people, it could have been anyone.

"Which one?"

"The one I saw die two and a half years ago!" cried Simon.

Robin frowned.

"Isn't that…" he swallowed, "Oh shit."

"Oh shit," Simon concurred. This was not a good sign. The sign became even less positive at the sight of Ray Carling attempting to invent a slightly ruder version of The Doctor that involved doing impressions of a large breasted lady and getting a slap for the trouble.

"What are they all doing here?" Robin cried.

"I know why they all left the pub before," Simon commented and Robin groaned.

"Time was broken."

Simon nodded.

"Look at what happened this morning," he pointed out, "everyone fainted."

"And the Tardis materialised."

"The bloody pub's broken again!" Simon concluded.

"So what, they're all here somewhere?" Robin frowned.

A quick scan of the club seemed to confirm it.

"Looks that way," Simon groaned.

"What do we do?" cried Robin, "We've got to stop the dead ones from encountering the alive ones otherwise –" he did a vague impression of shooting stars. "Star bursts, all over the ceiling."

The two men looked at one another, hoping for inspiration to strike and when it didn't there was only one option left.

"Get Kim!"

~xXx~

"Gene?"

"Oh Bolly…"

"No, Gene…"

"What?"

"Is that you?"

A pause.

"That's a bit rigid even for me, Bols."

"I knew it! I'm sitting on a bloody lever!"

"You want to be more careful, don't want to explain those kind of stains to the Chinned Wonder."

"Me? You're the one who wanted to do it on the control panel! Or… whatever this thing is."

"Thought it would make a good story to tell the kids."

"Presuming there are any, and presuming they're not conceived here and turn into… two headed monsters of something… the last thing I am going to tell them is the story of how their beloved mother and father bonked on the desk of a fictional spaceship!"

A pause.

A soupcon of fumbling.

"Ohhhh Bolly."

"No, that's not me"

"What about now?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Good. Hold tight."

"Gene, careful! Mind where you're putting me!" another pause. "Uh oh."

"Another lever?"

"No, but my… bottom… made contact with… something…"

"And it wasn't with me hand."

"No, Gene, it was more like… Gene, what's that noise?"

"The pounding of yer heart at the prospect of a quick bunk up with the Manc Lion."

"I'm serious!"

"So was I!"

"Gene… I don't like this… something's happening… And I don't mean in a good way!"

"What was tha- bugger!"

"Oh this isn't good!"

"I know you make me world spin but…"

"Gene! We're moving!"

"I thought that dog piss was supposed to have knocked it senseless for twenty four hours!"

"Well all I know is that we'd better hold tight before it knocks us senseless!"

As the Tardis swerved and swirled and Alex and Gene clung to one another, Alex realised she'd finally discovered a bumpier ride than Gene's driving after a flask full of scotch.

~xXx~

"I don't see we have a lot of choice in the matter," Kim began, "We'll have to round them up."

"That's easier said than done!" cried Simon, "this place is packed!"

"They should be quite easy to find," Kim countered, "just look for the ones that seem to be getting hit by other customers," she pointed to Eddie who was getting a slap from a woman who didn't like his suggestion about seeing his lucky underpants.

"Right," Simon closed his eyes and sighed.

"I tried calling Alex and Gene but there's no reply," Robin told them, "Not at home, not at the station."

"We'll have to deal with this ourselves then," Kim told them.

"Just the three of us?" Simon whined.

Kim hesitated.

"I'll find Shaz," she said, "she knows about the world now. She'll understand. We can do with all the help we can get." She watched Eddie receiving a kick in a delicate place. "Looks like we're not the only ones who need help either," she said.

"Right," Robin straightened his shirt "let's get this lot back to their own boozer." He sighed "before Nelson goes sightseeing again."

~xXx~

The only sight that Nelson had seen for quite some time was that of a dalek roaming around his pub, asking for ingredients. He'd tried to placate the thing with bar snacks but throwing a packet of pork scratchings at the Dalek had only angered it further.

"It wants eggs," Sam repeated incredulously for the fourteenth time.

"I require eggs," the dalek confirmed.

Sam's expression screwed up in bewilderment.

"It's a psychotic, megalomaniac killing machine," he pointed out, "why does it want eggs?"

"Hey," the Dalek called accusingly, "don't talk to me like I'm not in the room!"

Sam and Nelson turned to one another, their mouths open.

"That didn't sound very dalek-like," Sam commented. He peered over the bar again as the dalek seemed to focus on him.

"Eggs," it said, sounding mechanical once again, "Eggs-stir-minate."

Sam ducked back down and turned to Nelson, a frantic look upon his face.

"Bar food or no bar food, you'd better hope you can rustle up an egg or two," he said, "It might be the only way to get this thing to come out of its –" he cringed, "-shell."

Nelson grimaced and shook his head.

"Sam, I am ashamed of you," he said.

Sam hung his head.

"So am I, Nelson," he admitted, "so am I.