Don't Own. Except for Professor.
Jack ran over with a panicked expression. His eyes darting about her spastic form, trying to figure out how to help.
A surge of anger shot through the Doctor. This mad woman was going to blow up a planet to close a crack and now she was just going to die? He wasn't going to let that happen. He couldn't let that happen.
He shook his head, he couldn't think like that. Emotionally, that is. It led to bad decisions and even worse situations. Back on logical track. Right. He took to the console, piloting them all away from this nightmare.
"Harkness," the Professor whispered hoarsely, "help me concentrate." Jack dropped to his knees beside her and gripped her hands tightly in his own.
"How?"
"My scanner," She coughed, "Focus. Throat."
"But that could kill you!" He wracked his mind, trying to think of some other way.
"I'll die anyway if we don't—" Her body spasmed, her nails broke through his skin, "Before—! Organs!"
"Alright, Alright!" He quickly pulled from her grasp and grabbed the compact from her jacket pocket. He flipped it open and aimed at her jugular.
"Two-thirty-nine!" She gasped. He dialed in the setting and for a few seconds…she stopped breathing. The microbots were gathered just below her skin. Her eyes were wide and brown and staring straight at him with utmost urgency. A cloud of silvery microbots were held still by the beam of sonic that was being emitted by the compact. Her hand had fallen back to her side, but could still feel her presence even if it was very faint. With a few flicks of his thumb across the scanner, the microbots were fried. Blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth and she started coughing.
Jack had just let out a breath of relief when the Doctor snapped to her side, tilting a spoonful of bright green tonic into her mouth. She automatically swallowed her eyes closed, her body going limp. The only thing that gave away the life in her was the subtle rise and fall of her chest.
"Jack, take her to the med bay, she'll be fine." The Doctor said, running back to the console as the TARDIS gave a wild jerk. "Don't drop her."
"I'm not gonna drop her, have you so little faith?" Jack flashed him a grin, just to hide his nerves.
The Doctor just looked at him and the TARDIS shook again, as if reminding them that they were still in space.
"Ouch, that hurts, Doc, that hurts." Jack quickly gathered the Professor in his arms and took off toward the med bay. She was surprisingly heavy.
Rose blinked a few times and shook her head. The lack of oxygen was obviously getting to her. She had never seen the Doctor that gentle before. Except around children and, well, her.
"You really care about her, don't you, Doctor?" Rose bit her lip and gripped the railing, watching his back. Hoping he would turn around.
"She's the only other one I know that's alive," the Doctor said distractedly, "and with her alive, there could be more out there." He sighed, looking at Rose. "There are more out there. She just won't tell me where."
An hour later, the Professor woke with the distinct taste of cotton mouth. Now, she didn't remember drinking—no matter how much she may have wanted a drink. Oh, and there was the taste of copper on her tongue. Blood. She sort of remembered that part.
Then, she coughed and sat up—much to her aching muscles displeasure.
"You should lie back down," A male voice said and she opened her eyes to look at Captain Jack Harkness. He looked like he was ready to make her.
"Wouldn't you like that?" She sneered, leaning against the wall behind the bed. "Got any water? I'm parched."
"I've got the next best thing." He grinned and handed her a can of coke.
She wrinkled her nose, "How you're still alive, you humans drinking this acid, I'll never know." She took it nonetheless and had a few gulps. A loud belch tumbled from her mouth and she paused. "Well, I didn't expect him to have that sort of medicine. Then again, he is the Doctor."
"He is," Jack snickered, then his expression turned serious, "Professor—"
"Don't ask anything stupid." She interrupted.
"What?" He doubletaked, having only heard that said by the Doctor.
"You heard me," She said, taking another sip of soda, "Don't ask stupid questions."
He stared at her for a moment, then laughed.
She smacked his arm, "Hey! What's so funny? While I may be hilarious, I don't know what I said to make you laugh."
"Ah, it's nothing, just you and the Doctor are very alike."
The look of exaggerated horror on her face was hilarious. She even pretended not to notice when the Doctor came in, Rose on his heels.
"That's like being compared to a slug! A murderous slug!" She added the latter on as an afterthought.
"So, I'm a murderous slug after saving your life," the Doctor said, sitting at the end of the bed.
"Saving my life?" She scoffed, "I wouldn't have needed saving if you all hadn't followed me!"
"He thought you were going to give yourself to whatever that was!" Rose burst out, "You should be grateful! He—"
The Professor grabbed her jaw and jerked her down to eye level, "Listen here and listen good, If I had been left there by myself, I would have blown up the planet while the force field was at its strongest. Everything would have been absorbed into that crack and I would be in the time vortex in my TARDIS getting the hell away in one piece. If y'all hadn't been so worried about my life, I wouldn't be here—recovering from a microbot invasion. Understand that now, Rose Tyler." She let go of Rose's face and slumped back onto the bed with a sigh.
"The energy and sheer force would have been enough to close the crack. The only thing that might have thrown it off were those needles." Her gaze shifted to Jack, "If I hadn't seen the reflection of the shooter from his buttons."
Rose touched her jaw in shock. The angry red imprints from the Professor's hand were still there. No one ever dared to touch her unless they wanted the feared wrath of the Tyler women. But this woman—this alien—scared her speechless. The aged intent in the Professor's eyes was definitely something she did not want to deal with. It was similar to the way the Doctor looked at the Daleks or Cybermen.
"Wait, you said that whole five seconds thing."
"That was a lie to impress you," the Professor grunted and sat up again, straightening her shirt out, "Did it work?"
"Very much so," Jack tossed her a flirty grin.
"You're feeling better?" The Doctor asked, scanning her up and down with his screwdriver, "Both hearts seem fine." That part was teasing.
Her gaze grazed over his body and she smirked, "Are you sure? Did you check?"
Whatever retort he had, died on his tongue when he saw the logo on her shirt translate into English from the former language that it was. Before it read 'el Lobo Malo' in fancy Spanish print with the white etching of a guitar in the background.
Bad Wolf.
"Where-where did you get that shirt?" Rose asked cautiously.
"Fifth Nebula, el lobo Malois a fantastic band. One of the few things humans got right." She grinned.
Rose and the Doctor shared a look.
"It's following us!" The distinct memory of the Slitheen that took over that Welsh Mayor's body came back to haunt her. The name of the project.
The Professor's eyes lit up in curiosity, then dimmed as she jumped up, "Well, I'll be off—whoa!" She stumbled to the side, catching onto the Doctor's leather coat to keep herself up. "Alright, vertigo, bad balance, I should be fine."
"Perhaps you should stay longer and rest for the ride," the Doctor suggested, "and perhaps for a trip or two."
"Is that an invitation, Doctor?" She looked up at him, admiring his jawline.
He raised a brow at her, then grinned, "That depends on the answer, Professor."
Rose bristled. Why was the Doctor flirting with this woman? This woman who had grabbed her jaw and threatened her. And now he was inviting her to travel with them! Now, as if to pour lemon juice onto open wounds, the woman was flirting back!
The Professor gave him a sparkling smile, "I'd rather die."
Then she pushed away from him and walked out of the medbay. "Where the hell is the console?" Her footsteps echoed off and down some corridor before receiving an answer.
The Doctor groaned and rubbed his forehead, then looked to Rose, "Well, I'd say some fish'n'chips are in order."
Rose gave him a cheeky grin. Now thatwas her Doctor. "That sounds really good right now."
"It does, it does." Jack agreed, already following the Professor out.
Once they were in the console room, Rose was in a much better mood. Her arm wrapped around the Doctor's—she almost didn't mind the near death experience they had. Her large eyes glittered and she gave a charming, absentminded, smile as she pretended to absorb the information he was blathering about. Hey, it was a lucky athletic shot that she took for him to take her along—not her intelligence.
Jack remembered where she had put the suitcase, so that's where he went. Right where he stopped, there was a note. Right where the suitcase had been.
Hey Harkness,
Tell the Doctor that if he follows me, I'll shoot him. I sort of owe you. Mostly your jacket, but you too. So if you ever need a favor, just give me a call. And I mean you as in you, not the Doctor.
Have fun,
The Professor
There was an eight digit number at the bottom of the paper.
Jack grinned. Then he quickly tucked the note into his pocket and ran out, shouting at Rose and the Doctor to wait up. They were definitely going to see more of the Professor.