Vignette 8, Part II: Ex Cathedra
The Doctor looked startled then frowned and made a sharp turn toward the Control Room.
"I didn't direct it to land …"
Jamie immediately followed, as did Zoe, popping out of the kitchenette.
"What's going on?"
"We've landed, but I didn't do it."
"The TARDIS is up tae her old tricks again."
The Doctor rolled his eyes and flicked on the viewer screen. "Let's just see where we are, shall we?"
The image was blurry and dark at first, but soon came into focus.
"Stone columns … stained glass …" The Doctor grunted as he turned the sticky directional knobs to move the camera. "Although it is dark, judging by the look and size, we seem to be in a classic gothic style cathedral."
Jamie brightened. "I'd like tae see tha'!"
"Well, right, then. Grab the torch, Jamie."
…
As the trio entered the space, their steps echoed off the stone walls and floor. Jamie shined the torch toward the through the gloom. It caught glints of gold and green. He nudged Zoe who had been admiring the soaring groin vaults and clerestory windows.
"Will ye look at tha'!" He exclaimed softly, pointing toward an ornate shrine that almost looked like a second, miniature cathedral.
Zoe joined in his awe as her eyes took in the overwhelming intricacy of the structure. The Doctor approached the plaques and sculpture embedded in the shrine's walls.
"Zoe, look! This one is for Sir Isaac Newton!"
"Oh!" Zoe practically leapt to his side to see. As they read the Latin inscription the Doctor suddenly declared he knew where they were.
"This isn't just any cathedral—this is Scientist's Corner! We're in Westminster Abbey!" The Doctor pointed toward the larger, yawning space. Sculptures and tombs were just made visible by the moonlight streaming through the stained glass.
Jamie raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
"We must have arrived in winter again …" Zoe said, rubbing her arms as the cold began to seep in.
Jamie gripped his lapels, preparing to offer his coat to Zoe, but the Doctor was faster and draped his jacket over her shoulders.
"Here you are, my dear."
"Thank you," Zoe smiled sweetly.
Jamie shrugged but could not stop the slight pout.
"You two stay here while I fetch our coats from the TARDIS." The Doctor hurried back inside the ship. The pair continued to admire the chapel.
Then suddenly there was a flash of light out in the greater space of the sanctuary beyond them
"That looked like another electric torch," Zoe whispered to Jamie.
"Aye."
The Highlander raised his and slowly walked into the sanctuary proper; Zoe followed.
The errant beam of light flashed out again from the eastern end of the abbey. It's light wobbled as if the owner's hands were full and they were trying to juggle it with other things. There was then a loud clatter of metal against the flagstones and a muffled curse, seeming to confirm that theory.
Jamie suddenly held out his arm in front of Zoe, causing her to stop short.
"Stay here," he commanded firmly, then retracted his arm to place his hand on his dirk.
Zoe gave him an annoyed look but obeyed.
When Jamie was halfway to where the activity seemed to be emanating, the Doctor joined Zoe, bearing her and Jamie's coats.
"I think I know when we are," he commented as he helped Zoe into her coat. "Where's Jamie going?"
"He's gone to follow some noises. Apparently we're not the only ones here."
"I know …"
"You know?"
"Stay here."
Zoe rolled her eyes. A second time was too much. She followed close behind the Doctor, gripping his jacket sleeve as they navigated the dark.
"Well then, when are we?" Zoe hissed. The Doctor did not have time to answer because, with a shout, Jamie came in upon the other visitors, dirk at the ready—but just as soon as he lifted it, he put it away.
"Ian!"
"Jamie?! What the hell are you doin' here?"
The young Glasgewean looked wildly around the cathedral, trying to figure out where in the world the Highlander and his friends had come from.
"I'll never say a cross thing aboot the TARDIS again," Jamie murmured.
"Eh?"
"Nae, naethin'. I'm here tae help."
"But ...how … och, neivermind! Ye're an answer tae prayer! We had tae break open the chair tae get tae the Stone an' Alan's hand slipped and got sliced open on the crowbar. I need an extra pair o' strong hands."
Jamie hastily shrugged out of his coat and rolled up his sleeves; the gleam of battle was in his hazel eyes.
"At yer service."
…..
The Doctor approached the slight young man holding his hand balled up in his coat. He took his handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped the laceration.
"This is not ideal, but it should do until you get home."
"Thank you, sir."
The Doctor then turned back to the group that was now trying to lever the Stone out of the chair.
Zoe was hovering around the men, giving instructions that were ignored as they passed over the men's heads. "The fulcrum needs to be further in—no, not there, the effort is not equal to the resistance!" The Doctor took a look.
"Zoe is right, you need to double the distance on that side of the lever … what is the weight of the Stone? 300 or so pounds?"
The Stone was suddenly lifted out, much too soon; Ian, Jamie and Gavin were not ready, and Gavin paid the price.
There was a mighty cracking sound as the ancient Stone hit the equally ancient floor. Everyone froze. The noise echoed off throughout the abbey. A shuddering wail of agony burst out of Gavin's mouth. Ian leapt to his side and covered his mouth with his hand.
Jamie quickly took hold of the larger piece that was crushing Gavin's foot. He bent his legs then, with a grunt, slowly lifted the Stone up and aside, all by himself.
Ian carefully led Gavin to sit down on the dais of the coronation chair.
The large young man sat on its edge, pale with pain. Ian knelt down and tentatively went to touch the toe area of his friends' shoe.
"Don't!" He rasped. "It's broken."
Ian rubbed his hands over his face then buried them in his hair. "Ach, I'm sorry, Gavin," he groaned.
"If you had just listened to me about the fulcrum, this wouldn't have happened," Zoe said in her matter-of-fact way.
"Och, shut it!" Ian growled.
"Hey!" Jamie's voice rang out in warning, the Doctor also chimed in an indignant "how dare you!"
Ian immediately rose and turned apologetically to Zoe while also holding up a placating hand to Jamie. "I'm sorry. Forgive me. I-I'm just—Doctor, with Gavin and Alan out, could you and Jamie help move this larger half? Zoe, would you go fetch Kay for me? Please?"
Zoe pursed her lips and frowned. She disapproved of this whole venture, not caring whether it actually happened in history or not.
… But she remembered how Jamie's face lit up when he realized he would be able to help Ian after all. She slid her gaze to him, annoyed by his torn expression. She had hoped he would say "Ach, let's chook this an' hie back tae the TARDIS", but he did not.
Zoe gave him a look she hoped conveyed her deep disapproval of the entire situation before walking over to the simple pine door Ian indicated.
Even though the Abbey was not exactly warm, the cold air that slapped her face upon stepping outside caused her to gasp.
The Ford Anglia was parked immediately across the way and Zoe hurried over to it.
Kay had chosen that moment to fiddle with the radio when Zoe knocked on the window. Her eyes, already wide with surprise, managed to open wider on recognizing Zoe.
"Miss Heriot!" She exclaimed upon opening the car door. "What—"
"No time to explain. Ian needs you inside."
"Oh. Reeght." Kay got out of the car. "Ye take my place?"
Zoe mutely nodded and slid into the driver's seat. She shivered and burrowed down into the worn leather. Soft music, similar to what she heard on the jukebox, was coming out of the radio; a rather dedicated station to still be playing music near midnight on Christmas Eve—and not all the songs were even Christmas themed.
Zoe idly marveled at the delicate wisps of steam made by her warm breath reacting to the cold. She knew how it worked and yet it never ceased to delight her.
A new song came on the radio. Zoe turned her attention to it and quietly listened.
" … There were chills up my spine, and some thrill I can't define. Does it show? And who would know? How long has this been going on?
"Oh, I feel that I could melt, into heaven I'm hurled … I know how Columbus felt, finding another world …"
Zoe smirked smugly as she recalled, with disdain, the 20th century's views on Columbus compared to her more enlightened 30th century.
"Can I trust how I feel? Is this my Achilles' heel? Look at me ... I'm all at sea. How long has this been going on?"
Zoe's attention was suddenly arrested by scrabbling noises on her left. She turned to see Kay and Jamie carrying a large, jagged stone between them.
Zoe got out of the car then opened the door to the back seat. Jamie placed the Stone on the floor.
"I'm going to go back in and help Ian," Kay said, turning to jog back. "Cover up the Stone!"
Jamie and Zoe grabbed the blankets that were strewn along the back seat and tried to arrange them atop the Stone in as artless a way as possible.
Jamie's sharp ears suddenly picked up the sound of footfall. Heavy, purposeful strides, in heavy purposeful boots. He turned his head. It was not coming from the Abbey, but from the road.
Jamie unceremoniously shoved Zoe into the backseat. He quickly followed after, pulled the door closed behind him. He winced at the noise.
"Jamie McCrimmon!" Zoe exclaimed indignantly, "What are you—"
Jamie put a finger to her lips. "Wheesht, lass!"
Zoe jerked her head away. "Don't shush me!"
Jamie rolled his eyes and made a frustrated noise. "Saints preserve—Look!" Jamie pointed at the windscreen. Zoe did as bid.
About ten yards away, illuminated by lamplight, was a figure dressed in the highly recognizable uniform of the English Bobbie. The sound of the car door had caught his attention and he was now making a beeline for them.
"Oh dear …" Zoe breathed. "What do we do? I don't want to spend a night in a dungeon!" She watched the policeman's approach with wide eyes and began to wring her hands. "Do they still use dungeons in this time?—or is it jails now? Do they torture people in the 1950's? Will they lock us in the Tower of London?"
Jamie's mind was working furiously, trying to think of what to do, his chest tightening with ever rising anxiety as time ran out and Zoe's panicked rambling brought him to a breaking point.
"Zoe!"
Startled, Zoe whipped her head around to face him. "What?"
An idea suddenly flashed through Jamie's mind as he looked at her and, without a second to lose, acted on the idea.
The moment his lips touched hers and he felt their petal softness, he was lost.
The world had faded away and all he could hear, see, or feel, was Zoe: The way her small frame fit snugly against his as he gathered her close, the slight lavender smell of her skin from the soap she always used ...
Her cradled the nape of her neck. Aching for more of her, he leaned in and felt her body give to the gentle pressure of his own. Jamie thought he heard her sigh, but couldn't be sure. If someone had asked his name just then, he doubted he could even answer.
Appropriately enough, a voice penetrated the fog:
"Oy."
Jamie paused just long enough to murmur, "Go away," before recapturing Zoe's mouth with his—but in the next moment there was a loud pounding on the window against which Zoe's head had been resting, startling them both.
With a groan Jamie reluctantly pulled away and glared up into the face of the disapproving bobbie on the outside.
"Now don't you give me that look, young man!" Came the policeman's muffled voice. He circled round to Jamie's side of the car. "Open this window!"
Still in a bit of a daze, Jamie looked around the car, trying to remember which mechanism opened the window.
"N-no, Jamie … it's there." Zoe leaned over him to point to the hand crank. Her renewed closeness caused a wave of heat to pass through the Highlander. He bit his lip in an effort to focus.
"In my day the front parlor was a good enough place for a tryst!" The policeman exclaimed once the window was rolled down. "None o' this skulkin' about places o' worship. For heaven's sake, it's Christmas Eve! What in God's name are you doing out here?"
Jamie blinked at the officer; his mind working hard to formulate an answer while it was still crowded with Zoe.
"I … we … we're from out-o'-town … an'— an' we couldnae find a place tae stay." Jamie, warming to his story, flashed the officer what he hoped was a winning grin and added. "Jist like Mary an' Joseph …"
The officer looked slightly alarmed then leaned in to take a closer look at Zoe before looking back at Jamie.
"Is your missus pregnant?"
Jamie flushed to the roots of his hair and Zoe, who had been staring at her hands, looked up with wide eyes.
Jamie wildly gesticulated. "Nae! Nae!"
"Oh. 'Cause if the wind were in that corner, I'd be willing to put you up with me wife and kids if need be … So, newlyweds, eh? On your honeymoon?"
Jamie knew the term honey-moon …
"... A-aye …"
A glow of nostalgia lit up the officer's eyes. "A Christmas honey-moon. That's nice. Well, since your bride is not expecting any time soon, you can find lodgings at this address." The officer pulled out his notepad and pencil, jotted down a few lines, then ripped out the paper and handed it to Jamie through the window.
"Th-thank ye …"
The bobbie seemed to resume a more formal air and curtly nodded his head. "Yes, sir. Now, clear off, if you please. I'd like to get home to my own wife before Christmas Day literally dawns."
Jamie watched as the policeman meandered off, waiting until he was out of sight and then a few minutes longer after that. Suddenly, he heard the door on Zoe's side open. Startled, his heart dropped and he quickly turned to look, half expecting to see the policeman had returned unbeknownst to him. But instead it was just Zoe leaving the car. His heart dropped again but for different reasons. He scrabbled for the door handle on his side and got out.
"Zoe!"
Jamie jogged around and barred her way. He leaned down and presented his red face to her.
"Go aheid, slap me." He scrunched his face up and braced for impact.
When none came he opened his eyes to see Zoe looking up at him her eyes searching his face with an unreadable expression.
"Why?" A puff of steam escaped with the question, drawing his attention to her kiss-bruised lips. Jamie felt a simultaneous pang of desire and shame at the sight of them.
"Yer … yer nae upset?"
Zoe's expression was now impassive. "Should I be?"
Jamie's embarrassed flush spread his cheeks to burn the tips of his ears. "W-weel, a-a gentleman doesnae jist grab a lassie an'-an' k—"
Zoe interrupted him with a huff and primly folded her hands in front of her. "A policeman spotted us and you had to act quickly to allay his suspicion. I understand why you did what you did, Jamie and I commend your quick thinking."
"Aye, but—thank you—but, Zoe—"
Zoe raised a hand to cut him off. "There's no need to talk about it further."
Jamie trailed after her, biting his lip to keep a profusion of apologies at bay.
Kay, Ian, Gavin, Alan and the Doctor came out the back door. Ian and the Doctor were dragging the larger half of the rock along on a trench coat.
"Jamie, give us a hand," the Doctor grunted.
"Aye." Jamie quickly took a corner of the coat, eager to have something to do.
"Actually, take my spot," Ian said. "I have tae talk tae Kay."
Ian and Kay made for the Ford Anglia; the Doctor and Jamie and the other lads continued on to the other car around the corner. With all parties distracted, Zoe took the opportunity to slip back inside the abbey.
The TARDIS was locked. Zoe bit her lip and gave the door handle a futile tug before turning and leaning her back against it in a huff. Her knees were trembling. She let her legs give out and slowly slid down the TARDIS door to the floor. The cool stone felt good.
Zoe raised a hand to her lips. They still tingled.
She closed her eyes and replayed the moment in her head:
In his haste Jamie had initially pressed hard, but then had changed to small, soft kisses—nipping tenderly at her lips with a lingering quality that had made Zoe's toes curl and her thoughts spiral into a velvet abyss. Zoe's nerve endings buzzed again at the memory and she shivered with pleasure.
It had been the nicest thing that had ever happened to her.
A line of the song she had heard on the car radio came appropriately back through her perfect recall:
This is grand … this is great … I'm in such a lovely state …
Can one kiss do all of this?
Zoe sighed and ran her fingers through her hair then down her neck before finally letting her hands fall to lay limply at her sides—much like they had when Jamie had kissed her. She felt oddly languid yet full of adrenaline at the same time.
Suddenly Zoe heard the murmuring of familiar voices echoing through the sanctuary, slowly approaching her spot. It was Jamie and the Doctor.
Zoe's first instinct was to run and hide. She did not want to look at Jamie, she did not want him to see her red face. But she forced herself to stay still and, with effort, schooled her features into a careful blank. But Jamie and the Doctor were not immediately forthcoming. They seemed to have decided to stop and talk. They were close enough to Zoe that she could make out most of their conversation.
"I don't see what all the fuss is about, Jamie. It's not like this is the first time you've kissed a girl for non-romantic reasons."
The revelation sent a shockwave through Zoe.
Jamie had done this before? Another stark reminder that she did not know him as well as she thought.
A gentleman doesn't grab and kiss a lassie, indeed ...
As if in answer to her sardonic thought she heard Jamie exclaim:
"I'm nae proud of tha' either! But this is different!"
"How is it different? If you hadn't distracted the girl with a kiss and stolen her ticket she would've boarded the plane and fallen prey to the Chameleons. Similar situation. There was a danger of sorts and a split second decision had to be made to avert it."
"I-I know! But, I barely knew the lassie—I cannae even remember her name. But, Zoe—" Jamie's voice softened. "Zoe ..."
Zoe held her breath.
"... Zoe's my friend ..."
Zoe felt slightly gratified, but a strange melancholy ache pulsed in her chest as well.
Despite her acceptance and approval of the logic of Jamie's actions, a small part of her had begun to wonder — to reason, that maybe there had been more than logic behind that kiss …
But Jamie having done it before weakened that line of reasoning. She could no longer logically entertain it— she was not sure she even wanted to. It opened up a door into a realm of which she had no knowledge or precedent—outside of accidental observations of stolen moments between station mates.
"Speaking of Zoe …" she heard the Doctor say. "I thought I saw her re-enter the Abbey …"
"Zoe!" Jamie shouted.
Zoe swallowed then called out in a surprisingly steady tone:
"I'm here!"
She heard the hurried clamber of men's feet and rose to standing, ready to get in the TARDIS the moment it was opened.
"Hello, Zoe! Well, this has been quite a night," the Doctor said conversationally as he fitted the key into the lock. Neither of his companions answered, nor did he expect them to.
"I'm glad you got to help Ian after all, Jamie," he continued once inside. Jamie perked up at that.
"Aye! I'll neiver say a cross word aboot ye again!" Jamie said, appreciatively petting the TARDIS' control panel.
Zoe, on the other hand, said nothing and made straight for her room. Once there, she threw herself on the bed, not even bothering to change out of her clothes.
Jamie had watched her go and unbeknownst to her he was now on the other side of her door. He raised his hand to knock but stopped short of his knuckles making contact. Instead, he opened his fist and gently touched his palm to the door before walking mournfully away.
…..
Despite being emotionally and physically exhausted, Zoe could not sleep. Every time she closed her eyes her treacherous brain replayed the sensation of Jamie's lips on hers.
Stop it, Zoe. This won't do.
Why couldn't she look at this more dispassionately? Why couldn't she let it go?
... Because her emotions had never been engaged on this level before.
Zoe fingered the star necklace Jamie had given her back in Cornwall. There was a sudden pricking at the corners of her eyes. She squeezed them shut and tears rolled out.
Zoe suddenly thought of Dr. Corwyn and felt the loss of her former superior more keenly than ever. She wished she was still alive and here to advise her.
Zoe turned on her side curled up into a ball, thinking petulantly:
I don't want to feel things anymore!
…...
Zoe did not want to get up. She did not want to see Jamie; she did not want Jamie to see her; one glimpse and the Highlander would know she was not okay. Zoe was sure she looked as bad as she felt:
She had awakened, unrested, with an ache behind her eyes that was slowly boring its way into her forehead.
Despite all this, Zoe slowly sat up and prepared to face the day because she objectively knew that in order for things to go back to normal between her and Jamie, she had to act as normal as she could.
I can do this. I can do this.
Zoe closed her eyes as she repeated this mantra. But soon the memory of Jamie's arms crowded in.
This was going to be difficult.
…
In the kitchenette Jamie had his head on the dinette table, his arms flung out over its enamel surface.
"Wha' do I do?" He whined weakly.
"What do you think you should do?" The Doctor asked him calmly, sitting across from him, morning tea and scone in hand.
Jamie was not sure about should—he knew what he wanted to do … and what he wanted to do was clearly out of the question where Zoe was concerned. The Highlander flushed as those wants sprang to mind. He instead exclaimed,
"I dinnae ken," reverting to Scots in his stress. "Tha's why I'm askin' ye! Though I dinnae ken why I bother, ye ne'er gie me straight answers!" Jamie then capped his outburst with a few muttered Gaelic oaths for good measure.
The Doctor sighed deeply. How easy it would be just to tell his companions what they clearly felt for each other ...
It would certainly make things a lot quieter.
But, no—as much he sympathized, he was convinced that it was not his place to involve himself in human courtship—unless history depended on it. They had to work it out for themselves.
It was then Zoe entered the kitchenette, a pleasant smile radiating out like the sun. The aspirin she had grabbed was doing its work, making her mask a little easier to hold in place.
"Ah, good morning, Zoe," the Doctor said. "Sleep well?"
"Yes, very well, thank you!"
Jamie looked at her dubiously from the corner of his eye.
"You look a little worse for wear, Jamie," Zoe said matter-of-factly as she pulled a cup and saucer from the cabinet. "Did you stay up too late?"
Jamie blinked at her a moment then said, "a-aye."
Zoe lifted the lid of the Brown Betty teapot on the table and sniffed.
"Ooh, Darjeeling!" She exclaimed and then went about serving herself tea and toast.
Jamie just stared at her, nonplussed, his mouth slightly agape.
The Doctor toed the Highlander's calf with his shoe. Jamie's gaze shifted to him.
"Close your mouth before you catch a fly, Jamie," he softly admonished.
"Eh? Oh." Jamie's mouth shut with a click of his teeth.
Breakfast passed uneventfully. Zoe chattered away about her latest ideas for improving the TARDIS' recharge time and the Doctor engaged in debating Zoe with his usual enthusiasm.
Jamie glanced at the petite scientist as he picked at his porridge—or what the TARDIS food machine presented as porridge.
She seemed fine, even refreshed. That was a relief … yet also highly annoying. Jamie had spent most of the night pacing and doing push-ups. Ben had once showed him the exercise after which the Highlander quickly outclassed him, much to Ben's chagrin.
Jamie thought back to Zoe's manner after the kiss when he had tried to apologize. Her voice, her expression, her body language was just how it had been after the other automobile incident.
Calm. Clinical. So, clearly she again felt nothing and he again felt ridiculous and had been left to flounder in a sea of emotions, all alone.
Jamie dared to raise his eyes back up to Zoe. She was still talking animatedly and his eyes were inexorably drawn to her perfect little Cupid-bow mouth. He licked his lips.
Abruptly Jamie rose from his chair and disposed of his barely touched breakfast down the garbage chute. He rinsed out his bowl at the sink. His hands were shaking.
Zoe watched him leave the kitchenette out of the corner of her eye. Once he was gone she stopped talking and her whole body seemed to deflate.
"Well, that wasn't so bad," she sighed.
The Doctor said nothing but gave her a tight smile.
…
Zoe turned her head at the sound of running water. The bathroom door was cracked open slightly and through the crack she could see Jamie bending over the bathroom sink, his head stuck under the faucet.
"James Robert MacCrimmon, what in the world are you doing?" Zoe exclaimed.
"Agh!" Jamie started and bumped his head against the faucet.
The Highlander gingerly backed out and up from the sink and groped for a towel, his hair in his eyes. Zoe reached in and grabbed one that was hanging on the wall near the door, handing it to him.
"Thanks," Jamie murmured, mopping his face.
"Is the shower broken?"
"Eh?"
"You're soaking your head in the faucet, I'm assuming the shower is broken."
"Oh, ah … aye … the shower's broken."
Jamie gently pushed past her and shuffled back toward his room with the towel comically draped over his head.
Zoe stared after him a moment in bemusement then stepped into the bathroom and turned the shower spigot. Water immediately and effortlessly flowed from the shower-head.
Curiosity over the reason for such a seemingly pointless lie urged her to confront Jamie, but the sight of his dark, wet hair, plastered against his face and rivulets of water running down his collarbone and into his shirt …
"Nevermind," Zoe murmured to herself and left Jamie to his own devices for the rest of the day.
…..