Short chapter which takes place right after Vampires of Venice


Abbey Who Chapter Seven

"Even after all that research I did, I wasn't expecting that," Rory confessed. "Yeah, me neither," Amy smiled. Rory stared at her, an awkward tension spreading to The Doctor and Abigail.

"Seems like you two need to work some things out," The Doctor said, "C'mon Abbey, let's leave those two alone."

He gestured his head to one of the doorways and slowly walked away, Abigail forced an innocent smile to Amy and Rory and hobbled after The Doctor.

When we were out of earshot she spoke, "What happened with them? Why do they need to 'work things out'?"

He blushed.

"Amy kissed me."

"Oh . . . well that's um… yeah I can see why … yeah…" she dribbled.

"What?" he asked.

"I can see why that could be something they might need to work out."

"Oh, yes." He blushed.

"So, where are we hiding until the bombs have stopped falling?" she asked.

"I don't know…anywhere I suppose. I hadn't really thought it through. Just wanted to get out of there quickly, really."

"That's understandable."

"We could go to the ball pit…or the cinema?"

"There's a ball pit?"

"Yes, it's cool. A room full of just plastic balls. Although it does have a tendency to move around a lot so we mightn't find it."

"Cinema then I suppose. And when you say 'cinema' do you mean a room with a TV and some films or a big screen, projector and popcorn?"

"Both. But the proper one is right around here, the other is further," he answered, gesturing to the right turn at the end of the corridor.

"How do you not get lost?"

"I do sometimes, but s- the TARDIS helps you get back to the control room."

"Would it help me?"

"Of course! Now, here we are." The Doctor pushed open the door and inside was a small theatre, but it was pretty impressive for a home cinema. It even had a confection stand tucked away in the corner.

"Ooh yum" he squealed, dashing over and taking a handful of gummy bears.

"How long have they been there?" she asked, slumping down on one of the chairs.

"Mere minutes," he replied proudly, "I always slow down the speed of time in this room so films don't have to end so soon."

"But it feels like it's moving normally…"

"For now. Wait until you leave. It'll seem like it took forever to end. I hate endings."

"Me too…so what are we watching?"

"Oh I don't mind, what do you think?" He flicked on the projector and a selection of titles came up.

"These are my favourites, but we don't have to watch them of course."

"I trust your judgement," she lied. If his choice in clothes were anything to go by the films wouldn't be great but they'd probably be funny.

"How about … that one," she suggested, pointing towards a random film at the top of the screen. He could tell what she was pointing at. The screen was very big.

"That one…" he smiled. "I knew someone who used to love that."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter," he brushed off.

"Go on, you can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

After a long pause he spoke again.

"Susan. My granddaughter," he finally spat out.

"You have a granddaughter?"

"Don't seem so surprised," he murmured, fixing his bowtie.

"Sorry, you;re just younger than most grandparents."

"Younger? I told you I was 907."

"Well I was hardly going to believe you, was I?"

He tilted his head and gave a shrug, "Suppose not."

"So . . . where you married then?"

"I was…"

"What happened? If you don't mind me asking, of course, because this really is none of my business."

"No, no it's fine . . . I've been married a few times actually. But it only really mattered once. She died."

"I'm so sorry…was she a timelord?"

"Yes. You would have liked her I think," he smiled.

"You even look kind of like her," he laughed, "with your sticky-outy cheekbones."

She forced a smile and held back tears.

"How did she die?" she croaked in a whisper.

"It doesn't matter. I'll put the film on now then," he rushed. Although he smiled broadly, anyone could tell he was falling apart on the inside.

"Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" she pressed.

"I'm the King of Okay. Actually, that's a pretty rubbish title. Forget what I just said."


Hope you liked it and please leave your comments, theories (?) . . . maybe even your requests?