The Land of Counterpane
Thank you (as always!) to the lovely tenroseforeverandever.
In a small copse of trees, in a shadowy corner of Central Park, there stood a Police Public Call Box. It was the sort of thing that was quite common on the streets of London in the early nineteen sixties - and not at all common to the byways of New York City in nineteen eighty-four. The figure that stepped from it was equally out of place, looking as though he'd sprung from the pages of a Jules Verne novel.
"Hello, old friend," Vincent murmured, stepping from the shadows of a drainage tunnel.
The Doctor leaned nonchalantly against the wall of the TARDIS, crossing his feet at the ankles. "Vincent! Wherever shall we go today? Fancy a voyage on the Nautilus? Or we could set sail on the Hispaniola? Or, if you're feeling particularly adventurous, I do have books from other centuries - other worlds even."
"You look…troubled," Vincent observed, noting the Doctor's shorter-cropped hair, and worn clothing.
The Doctor sighed heavily. "There's trouble at home, I'm afraid." He gazed up into the starry night sky.
Vincent followed his gaze. "It all looks so peaceful."
"From here, yes. Up there, it's quite a different story."
"It's so hard to imagine."
"And that's the way I want it to stay. I've walked this Earth for so long, Vincent…I can't bear the thought of Da- of difficulties - from my world, finding this place. If the worst comes, even your sanctuary won't be enough to protect you."
"This weighs heavily on you."
The Doctor nodded.
"Surely there are others, on your world, people who can broker peace?"
The Doctor thumped a fist against the side of the TARDIS. "They're too busy fighting amongst themselves."
"But you, you're so passionate in your beliefs, surely you can speak?"
The Doctor laughed mirthlessly. "They don't take me seriously. Never have. I've never been one to play their games. All I ever wanted was to travel - to see the universe."
"It must be wonderful," Vincent said wistfully.
"It is - mostly. Sure I can't tempt you with just a short jaunt?" The two friends laughed together - it was an old question.
"Perhaps, someday."
"But not today?"
"I think not. I've tarried too long as it is. There is sickness Below."
The Doctor straightened, concern etching his features. "Why didn't you say? The Doctor isn't just my name, you know."
"It's measles, I'm afraid."
"In late twentieth century America?"
"Sometimes, the children who come to us have not been properly cared for in the world Above."
"No immunizations?"
Vincent nodded gravely.
"Finally, something I can fix. Come on!"
"Vincent, where have you been? I had to send Winslow to fetch the supplies from our helpers," the older man said crossly, as he turned, pushing his spectacles up on the bridge of his nose. "Who's this?" he asked, eyeing the curly-haired stranger with his tall leather boots and Haggard-esque attire.
"Father, I've brought a friend to help. This is the Doctor."
"Doctor who?"
"Just the Doctor. I've brought Vitamin A supplements, pediatric fever reducers, a few broad spectrum antibiotics, just in case, and MMR vaccine."
Father's jaw dropped in surprise as he accepted the box that the Doctor held out to him. "I - well, I don't quite know what to say. Thank you."
"You're very welcome."
Father paused, rooting through the contents of the carton. He held up a box of toy soldiers, and a battered volume of Robert Louis Stevenson.
The Doctor shrugged slightly.
"Tell me, Doctor…do you by any chance play chess?"
Vincent smiled, knowing a declaration of friendship when he heard one.
Acquainted With the Night
Thank you (as always!) to the lovely tenroseforeverandever.
"What's this for, then?" Rose Tyler asked, peeping into the Harrod's bag the Doctor had slung over one arm. She caught a glimpse of some tins of fancy tea before he jerked the bag out of reach.
"The place we're going, people don't have all that much, and they're grateful for a few simple luxuries."
"And where are we?" she persisted, as they stepped out of the TARDIS, into a rocky tunnel. She shivered slightly, and zipped up the hoodie that she wore over a bright pink tee shirt.
"You'll see," the tall man in the battered leather coat told her.
"Hello, Doctor," a deep voice said.
"Vincent."
"Hello," Rose said, smiling brightly.
The owner of the voice shrunk back slightly, into the shadows.
"I'm Rose," she continued.
"Friends, Vincent?" a boy with a mop of blonde hair chirped.
"Yes, Mouse. This is the Doctor -"
"Looks different than Mouse remembers."
"Mouse."
"It's all right," the Doctor assured them.
"Pretty!" the boy exclaimed, pointing unabashedly at Rose.
She smiled brilliantly at that, and stepped a bit closer. "So, who's gonna tell me where we are?"
"Down Below!" Mouse told her.
"You are in New York," the hooded man - the one the Doctor called Vincent - replied, seeing her puzzled expression.
"Did you bring presents?" Mouse demanded.
The Doctor smiled indulgently and rummaged in his pockets. He passed Mouse a banana and a shiny wind up toy robot. "These are for you." He passed him the bag. "This, you give to Father or Mary, all right?"
"All right," Mouse agreed, nodding and smiling delightedly as he scurried away down the tunnel.
Rose turned back to the Doctor in fond exasperation. "Aren't you going to introduce me properly?"
"Rose, this is my friend Vincent. Vincent, Rose Tyler."
"I am pleased to meet you, Rose," Vincent said, finally stepping into the light. To his utter surprise, pretty blonde girl merely smiled at him.
"Blimey. And this is really New York? Not spaceship New York, or future New York?"
"Really New York, in nineteen eighty-seven."
A faint shadow passed over Rose's face, gone in the blink of an eye. She smiled brightly as they continued deeper into the tunnels, laughing when they were overtaken by a group of children who immediately declared that she had the perfect accent to read Oliver Twist for them.
"Your friend is very lovely," Vincent observed, as he and the Doctor settled at the chessboard in his chamber.
"Yes, she is."
"And you love her."
"So obvious, is it?"
"Only to those who care about you."
"No!" the Doctor replied harshly. "Even to a…"
"A what, Doctor?" Vincent prompted.
"A nightmare left over from the Time War."
"When you spoke of the Time War, you said that you were the only one left."
The Doctor leaned back in his chair, pressing a hand to his eyes. "That's what I thought. It must have fallen through a crack in time."
"And, did you -?"
"No. I was going to - had a gun in my hands and all…I was so blinded by my rage, that I was ready to pull that trigger, even though…"
"Even though -?"
"Even though Rose was in the way."
"But you didn't do it."
"No, I didn't."
"Rose seems a remarkable person," Vincent observed. "There are not many people who meet me and remain unafraid."
"She wasn't afraid of me, either, and of the two of us, I've done damage on a far greater scale."
"And you have also done great good. How many worlds were saved by the sacrifice you made to end the war?"
"I don't know. Sometimes, it seems like there's so much blood on my hands that they'll never come clean."
"Perhaps that's why Rose came into your life - to help you see that there is still beauty and goodness in the universe - and to remind you that there is good in you, as well."
The Doctor smiled - a small, tight expression, totally lacking in joy or mirth. "She's nineteen years old. Far too young for me to be thinkin' this way."
Vincent rolled his eyes at that. "By your own admission, you've walked this earth for centuries. True love is a rare and wonderful thing. I think that when the universe grants you such a gift, you'd be foolish not to accept it."
"And when did you get so wise about matters of the heart?"
"Since the night I met Catherine. Yes, there are obstacles before us, but we face them together. She brings me such joy, Doctor! And I would wish the same for you."
"You always were a romantic."
"So were you, when we first met."
"That was a long time ago."
"Five years isn't so very long."
"Five years for you. For me, it was a war and two regenerations."
"You were alone, all through the war, weren't you?"
The Doctor nodded.
"And now, you are not."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It is."
A soft smile crossed the Doctor's face at the scene they found in the central chamber. Rose was curled in a large wooden chair, wrapped in a cozy afghan. The children were begging for just one more chapter, and Mary was trying to chivvy them to their chores, insisting that their guest must be worn out by now. As always seemed to happen, no matter how crowded the room, Rose caught his eye and grinned.
Vincent merely raised one eyebrow. It was astounding how someone whose facial structure so closely resembled a lion could so clearly convey 'I told you so.'