AN: okay guys, i'm sorry the formatting was weird for this, I have no idea what's going on. I edited it and made it a bit more readable. i didn't notice until a few days after i published it. if anyone knows what's going on, can you help me out? thanks, and enjoy!
Chapter 11- Tying Up Loose Ends
I remember how well the Doctor, Algo and I had gotten along after the small siege with the two Aligrena. Any strange sort of event simply draws people closer—we've just been attacked by two broken alien robots. I can't say I've done that with anyone else. It's the shared experiences that bond people together. I can safely say that if I ever see Algo again, he'll welcome me with open arms.
Algo's computer shop was in quite the state in the aftermath of the siege. Computer parts and pieces of the cloud-glass counter littered the floor, which now had a small dent or two in it from our struggles. When the three of us finished stowing the Aligrena away in Algo's back workroom, we fell to cleaning his shop up: after all, the whole reason it was a mess was the Doctor and I. We fixed everything up: the Doctor made the cloud-glass counter whole again with his sonic; Algo was sorting through the bits of technology on the floor and seeing what was useful; I had gone complete business-owner-and-operator and decided to give the entire place a thorough scrubbing from floor to ceiling. We would joke while we worked—our laughs weren't loud, obnoxious guffaws, but amused chuckles instead. The joke might've been funny, but we didn't have the stamina to show just how funny it could be. We were exhausted by our battles today.
When the shop was in a better state than when we arrived, Algo treated us to some food. We stopped at the Nodan equivalent of a coffee shop and the Doctor ordered us some Pholindon (a thick purple drink that tasted like dark chocolate), and we sat, hunched over a circular table, comfortable in our silence.
"So," I began, heaving a sigh. "What are we gonna do with the Aligrena?"
"You can leave them with me," Algo answered. "I can work on it and try to fix it up—properly this time. No, I won't have them attacking anyone. I'll see if I can access their databanks."
"That's going to take a lot of time and work, Algo," the Doctor warned.
"I know," Algo replied. "But I've got time. It'll be slow-going, but I'll get there in the end." The Doctor watched him thoughtfully, as if deciding whether or not this was a good idea. Fortunately for him, I'd already decided.
I reached into my front pocket and withdrew the wad of Nodan money from the ATM the Doctor had broken into, placing it in Algo's hand.
"If there's any special gadget or gizmo you need, use this to buy it," I said, curling his fingers around it. "And if you need our help, don't hesitate to ask." Algo smiled and pocketed the money.
"Thank you, my dear," he said sincerely. I shot a look toward the Doctor; reluctantly, he gave over his half of the cash, too. Algo's eyes widened and he laughed as he scooped the money into his pocket. "What did you two do, rob a bank?" he joked.
The Doctor and I laughed a little too enthusiastically to be genuine.
After a long lunch, the Doctor and I bid Algo goodbye, with promises to aid one another if they ever needed it. We slowly walked through the Coliseum back to the TARDIS, glad we can have a breather. The Doctor was talking out his plans for what's next. I was only half-listening.
"I got the general location of their receiving teleport," he said at the speed of light. "I got the signal, and with a bit of tweaking—"
"Algo told me about your wife," I interrupted. Oh, did you really think I would forget to ask him?
The Doctor ceased his babbling, but his mouth hung open, like there was so much he wanted to say that he couldn't. "What did he say?" he asked, looking anywhere but at me.
"Not much," I conceded. "Her name, her species, little things. But I was wondering why I haven't seen her."
"She's…" he began, staring at the wall behind me. "She's got a business arrangement that keeps her away. We don't see each other very often."
I could tell he was hiding something, but I didn't press him. I wasn't going to force him into talking about her. But by the look in his eyes, there was so much for him to say that he wanted to say. Lord, he wanted to say it, but he was biting his tongue so hard he might've drawn blood. And that silence was killing him.
I smiled, but I knew the Doctor could tell I was thinking other things. "Well, I hope I'll meet your mysterious Amy soon," I said optimistically.
The Doctor finally looked at me, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
"Amy?" he repeated.
"Yeah, Amy," I said uncertainly. "Your wife."
"She's not my…" the Doctor trailed off. "Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed, comprehension dawning on his face. He clapped a hand to my arm and laughed. It was a relief to see him smile like that. "No, Erica," he said, his words punctuated by the stray chuckle. "Amy's a friend of mine. We came here once and I introduced her to Algo. He got everything all wrong about us—oh, he always overestimates these things. Computer genius, but no intuition whatsoever."
"So Amy's not your wife?"
"No," he explained, relieved. "Just a really good friend of mine."
"But you are married?" The Doctor nodded. "What's her name, so if that happens again I can sort it out?"
"River Song," the Doctor sighed happily. His face reminded me of a puppy that had just gotten a new toy and looked at its owner like he'd just gotten the world. After a moment where the Doctor reflected on…something, he perked up and said, "Well, I'm glad that's cleared up. Let's get back to the TARDIS—we have a signal to track."
With a springier step, the Doctor and I joined the Nodan masses journeying down the thoroughfare, he pointing out functions of different devices displayed in the window like an overly-enthusiastic tour guide. We occasionally ducked into the shops we passed, browsing their selections and raving about what they did.
"Oh, Doctor, let's look in this one!" I called, dragging him inside. He began narrating to himself the entire inventory of the store, but I wandered among the chrome gadgets and whirring gizmos alone, content to fantasize about the products' functions. I turned into one aisle and immediately spotted a plain, old picture frame with no photograph in it, sitting on a shelf next to the floor. Curious, I picked it up; I remember being surprised by the fact that there was no glare. Suddenly, a picture of Naomi burst into life on the surface of the frame, smiling up at me like nothing was out of the ordinary. Actually, no—it wasn't a picture at all; it was more like a Skype call, but with much better quality and neither of us saying anything. It's hard to put into words, actually. The best way to describe it was like a living picture of her, like something out of Harry Potter: her wavy, straw-colored hair, so like our mother's, bounced as she laughed joyously, her round green eyes crinkled at the corners in a smile. Whatever it was, it rendered me speechless. I asked those wordless questions all over again.
"Erica!" the Doctor called, from somewhere on the edge of my consciousness. "I found the best little trinket—" His words suddenly stopped, and I sensed him there with me, watching me watch Naomi. More quietly, he said, "Now what's this you've found?"
He reached over and took it from my hand; my fingers stayed curled, holding the air the picture frame used to be in. I glanced up at the Doctor, his brow furrowed in curiosity as he stared at the frame. "Oh, hang on," he whispered. Suddenly, he crouched down to the shelf the frame had occupied, setting it down on the floor. As he checked the sales label on the shelf, I could make out the image of three people grouped together—a woman with flaming red hair and a round face; a skinny, lanky man with a prominent nose; and a woman with sun-kissed skin and piles upon piles of golden curls. They were all embracing and smiling up at us brightly. I picked up the frame to get a closer look, but the image shifted back to Naomi.
"Oh, I know what this is!" the Doctor exclaimed triumphantly. He groped for the frame, but finding it missing, glanced up and saw me staring at it. He watched me carefully, as if afraid a secret were about to spill; I didn't know whose.
"It's called a Memory Display," he explained, staring at the frame in my hands. "Touch it, and it shows you your loved ones."
"So it's a mind-reading picture frame?" I asked.
"Essentially, yes."
I stared at my sister longingly, missing her. "I wish we hadn't given all our money to Algo," I said, reaching to place the frame back on its shelf. The Doctor laid a hand on my arm, his other hand reaching into his pants pocket. With a bit of contortion required by our kneeling positions, the Doctor withdrew a handful of bills; nothing like the wad of cash we'd stolen from the ATM, but enough to get us a good haul of souvenirs. My eyes widened at the Doctor as I looked up at him.
"It's always good to have some spare change," he said, answering my questioning gaze. We headed to the checkout, where the Doctor used almost every bill to pay for the Memory Display. The cashier put in in a box, which he then put in a black basket (Delta Delta might be the tech center of the universe, but you can only say so much about a planet that hasn't discovered plastic). The Doctor and I left, the basket swinging from my elbow and my free arm looped through his.
"Thanks, Doctor," I said sincerely. "I really appreciate it. I owe you one."
"Oh, you owe me nothing, Erica," the Doctor chided playfully.
"Well, next time we're on Earth, I'll treat you to lunch," I promised.
The Doctor pulled his arm from mine and threw it across my shoulders, laughing. "I'll hold you to that," he said, leaning on me. Together we traipsed through the Business and Travel Coliseum of Delta Delta Noda Four, finally getting back to the TARDIS after twenty minutes (during which we got lost and the Doctor refused to admit it). The Doctor happily charged in, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and inserting it into a large open plug embedded in the console.
I held up the black basket containing the Memory Display. "I'm gonna go set this up in my room," I called, heading up the stairs. "I'll be back in a second."
"You do that!" the Doctor replied, happily fiddling with his beloved machine. I nodded to myself and began climbing the stairs, the signature TARDIS vwoorp starting up behind me; but halfway up, I remembered the people that had shown up when he touched the Display. The fiery-haired woman, the golden-haired one, and the awkward-looking man stood out in my mind. I halted on the stair and turned around.
"You know," I began hesitantly. "If you ever want to use it, just…go ahead. You don't need to ask." The Doctor looked up at me, as though trying to solve a mildly-challenging puzzle. "I mean, you bought it," I added quickly. "Seems like you deserve that privilege."
A tiny smile lifted the Doctor's lips. "Thank you, Erica," he said. "I really appreciate it."
I nodded at him one more time, turned around, and headed to my room. Once I'd had a good, long shower and changed into warm black leggings, a plaid button down two sizes too large, and a pair of purple boots with fur on the inside, I finally set myself to the task of setting the Memory Display up. When I'd finally worked the Display out of its packaging (the cashier deserves an award for packing skills) and set up the little stand it came with, the screen bloomed with an image of the Doctor, looking up at me with the playful smile that he seemed to wear as often as his bowtie. I took the frame into my hands and watched the Doctor through it.
"I'm always worrying about you, aren't I?" I said. Well, it's no matter—he needed someone to worry about him, and I'd happily oblige. I couldn't remember much after that, because a sudden impact, strong as two eighteen-wheelers colliding, threw me to the ground. My head hit the chest of drawers and I was knocked unconscious.