A/N: Alex and Daffy's outfits for this chapter can be viewed on my Tumblr, under the name 'darksideofparis'.
~The Pros and Cons of Silence~
Alex awoke rather slowly. Eyes fluttering, she stretched her arms above her head before rolling onto her stomach and nestling further into the fluffy white covers. She closed her eyes and hummed contentedly. She loved her bed so much. It was so much warmer and fluffier than other beds she'd been in, especially the sorry excuse for a cot she and the Doctor had been forced to use during a week-long stay in a Moroccan jail cell. He'd been attempting to take her to see Grace Kelly marry the Prince of Monaco but, in true Doctor fashion, they'd landed in Morocco sometime in the 1600s. Then he had to go and insult the king and things had snowballed from there.
Speaking of the Doctor. . . Alex smiled against her pillow when she felt a hand running gently along her back. She hummed again and arched into the cool, adrenaline-inducing touch, detectible even through a thick comforter, sheets, and her pajama top.
From somewhere above her, the Doctor let out a deep chuckle. Alex felt the mattress shift as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her ear. "You awake yet, love?" he whispered, grinning against the curve of her ear.
"Mmm-hmm. . ." Alex rolled onto her side so that she was facing him, though her eyes were still closed. She smiled at the feeling of his fingertips stroking her cheek, then running through her hair. "Five more minutes, please," she murmured as she nestled against his chest.
He chuckled again. "Deal," he said, then sealed his promise with a kiss to the top of her head.
Alex thought she would go straight back to sleep and the Doctor would be forced to wake her but surprisingly, she only became more and more alert as the minutes passed. By the time the Doctor started gently tapping on her shoulder, she was wide awake.
She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. "Morning," she smiled.
"Morning," he smiled back. "Although," he added as he tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ear, "there is no such thing as 'morning' on the TARDIS."
Alex rolled her eyes, but the smile was still glued to her face. "Yeah, yeah, time is relative aboard a time machine. I suppose that would explain why I'm not craving breakfast food right now."
"Yes, it's closer to late afternoon for your body clock."
Alex hummed in response. She nestled closer to him and buried her nose against his shirt. She sighed at the familiar scent of his musky cologne. She really needed to ask him sometime where he got it.
The Doctor chuckled and wrapped an arm around her back. "Comfy?" he asked, running his hand across her back.
She arched into his touch. "Yes," she breathed.
"Well, that's a little disappointing. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out and get something to eat."
Alex tilted her head up enough so that she could see his face, but not completely move away from his shirt. "Out? You don't just mean a bite in the kitchen, then?"
He shook his head. "No, I meant out like out, out. Outside. Like . . . on a date."
Surprised, Alex moved away from his shirt and propped herself up on her elbow. "Really?" she blinked.
The Doctor nodded. His hand moved away from her back and to her cheek, his calloused thumb lightly rubbing the smooth skin over her cheekbone. "What do you think?" he asked softly. "I mean, we don't have to, but since we haven't gone on a proper date yet thanks to the Weeping Angels, I just thought—"
"You thought perfectly," Alex beamed. She leaned closer and brushed her lips against his. "Let's do it."
She thought the Doctor would grin and pull her into a deep kiss, but she was only half-right. Instead, he cheered, "Great!" and sprang off the bed, grinning all the while. Despite herself, Alex laughed, which only made the Doctor grin even more. "Get dressed," he told her, "and I'll meet you in the console room in ten."
"Where are we going?" Alex asked as she sat up. "Is it someplace casual or do I need the TARDIS to whip out the ballgowns?"
"Casual. Very casual." Alex started to ask another question, but he cut her off. "And before you ask, the Ponds are still in their room and probably will be for some time." The two shared a knowing look. It wasn't exactly a secret that Amy and Rory had an active sex life. Even though it had been a while since their wedding, when it came to physical relations, they were still very much in the honeymoon stage.
"So I have you all to myself then." Alex smirked and her light green eyes twinkled. "Excellent."
The Doctor's cheeks reddened. "Ten minutes," he repeated under his breath as the blush spread to his neck.
Alex giggled as he rushed out of the room. It was nice to know that she could fluster him so much, especially since he did the same to her. After allowing herself another few moments to giggle, Alex got out of bed and went to her closet.
Taking the Doctor's advice to dress casually to heart, Alex pulled on a sleeveless, off-white shirt, a pair of distressed overall shorts, a circular, gold pendant necklace, and a pair of white Converse sneakers. She glanced at one of the watches lying in her jewelry box. Eight minutes to go.
She raced into her bathroom and ran a brush through her hair. Thankfully, it was still pretty straight, so there was no need for her to run the flat-iron through it. The makeup she'd applied for Remel was still sitting on the counter, so she reapplied it: some eyeshadow that accented her eyes, the new mascara and eyeliner she'd purchased shortly before she and the Ponds departed Leadworth for Utah, and some rose powder blush and a pale pink MAC lipstick Lacey had sent over in her last I-miss-you-so-here's-some-stuff-that-I-thought-you-would-like package. Said package had also included a brand-new bottle of Chanel No. 5, which Alex quickly spritzed behind her ears, on her neck, and on her wrists.
Alex examined her reflection. Gorgeous, as usual. She was sure the Doctor would think the same.
She all but ran down the hall to the control room. Right before she reached the doorway, she paused to ruffle her hair a little. An affirmative hum from the TARDIS indicated that it was the perfect level of tousled, guaranteed to make the Doctor's hearts thump a little harder. With a smirk, she dashed into the control room. "I'm here!" she announced. "Ten minutes exactly, right?"
The Doctor, leaning forwards against the console, chuckled. "Right on time," he affirmed. "Impressive, by the way. Until you, I've never met a woman who could get ready like that." He snapped his fingers on the final word.
"I'm just unique," Alex said modestly, though on the inside, she was all but preening. She raised an expectant eyebrow at him. "So, where are we going?" she asked eagerly.
The Doctor snapped his fingers again. Below them, the TARDIS doors swung open. After giving him a curious look, Alex dashed down the stairs. As she got closer to the doors, she could smell just the faintest whiff of sea brine, followed by the overwhelming scent of Mexican food.
The view outside was incredible. The TARDIS had landed in an alley that opened onto a busy cobblestone street. Tall, tan stucco buildings that housed a variety of shops lined either side of the street. Several colorful awnings hung above the doorways, offering a shady spot from the afternoon sun. Alex studied the shop names and was surprised to find they were in Spanish. Utilizing the education she'd received in her high school Spanish class, Alex managed to pick out a designer sunglasses store, a flower shop, a number of swimwear and beach-supply stores, and even a McDonald's. People drifted in and out of these shops, speaking a variety of languages. Alex caught several speaking Spanish, but many more were speaking English. A group of college-age girls, all wearing sweatshirts with the words Université Paris-Dauphine printed on them, wandered past the TARDIS and Alex heard them speaking French. A middle-aged black couple came from the opposite direction, chattering in what sounded a lot like German.
So concentrated on the languages, Alex didn't hear the Doctor stepping up beside her, so she jumped when he put a hand on her back. He laughed and rested his other hand on her shoulder. "Alexandria Locke, welcome to Cabo San Lucas."
Alex's jaw dropped. "This is Cabo?!"
"The more touristy section of it, yes. We're just a few blocks away from Medano Beach."
"Uh-huh," Alex murmured, still caught up in the sight before her. She was always amazed by her first glimpse of a new place. Even if they'd landed in the back alleys next to a bunch of dumpsters, she'd probably still be impressed. She stepped out of the alleyway and onto the street. She could now see all the palm trees planted along the sidewalk, as well as the street vendors selling all manner of different foods, from tamales to hot hogs. They were hawking their wares first in English, then in Spanish. Alex sniffed the air and her stomach growled.
"Please tell me we're eating. All of these smells are making me hungry."
The Doctor shut the TARDIS doors and smiled at her over his shoulder. "Don't worry, Ally," he said as he tucked his key into his jacket pocket. "That was my intention." He glanced around the crowded street. "But not here."
Before Alex could ask him any more questions, he grabbed her hand and led her up the street. When they got to an intersection, the Doctor tugged her to the left, then across the street over to an alley tucked between an upscale shoe store and an ice cream parlor. They swept through several alleys, so many that Alex knew she would never find the way back by herself. Finally, they emerged onto another street.
This street wasn't as populated as the other one. Only a few people wandered past as they stepped out of the alleyway; across the street, an elderly Mexican couple sat on a bench outside what looked like a photography studio. There were palm trees in planters all along the sidewalk and terracotta pots full of native flowers sat outside shop doors. They also appeared to be a lot closer to the beach as the sea brine scent had increased sharply and Alex could hear the gentle rolling of waves.
The Doctor led her down the quiet street to an unmarked building between the photography studio and a travel agency. The only indication the building contained something within was the simple white awning overhead and the mixture of cacti and dahlias planted in terracotta pots on either side of the door. Alex took everything in dubiously, but she trusted the Doctor, so she allowed him to lead her inside.
If the outside of the building was unremarkable, the inside was the exact opposite. Alex's eyes widened and darted around in an effort to take everything in.
They were standing at the side of one very large room, about the size of a small warehouse. The walls were painted in smooth, rich shades of brown and cream and occasionally decorated with mirrors or photos of boats on a rich cerulean sea. The floors were a polished marble with dark blue wicker tables and chairs dotted around. From the high ceiling hung several fans, turning lazily and offering a slight respite from the heat. At one end of the room was a large bar stocked with every kind of tequila ever made. A couple of people sat at the bar-stools. They were all drinking and watching the TV behind the bar, currently tuned onto a telenovela.
What Alex mainly noticed though was that the room directly opened onto a wide patio that was the length of the room itself. Several people were sitting at the wicker tables outside, sipping margaritas and enjoying the ocean-front view. The sound of waves rolling was louder here, and Alex could vaguely hear the chatter of beachgoers and a radio playing an old Ricky Martin song.
"Where are we?" Alex murmured, slightly afraid of speaking any louder.
The Doctor grinned to himself. He had definitely chosen well. "Barriga llena, Corazón Contento. In English—"
"Full stomach, happy heart," Alex translated. At the Doctor's questioning look, she added, "I took Spanish in high school. We learned some Spanish proverbs."
"Good to know," the Doctor smiled, his green eyes sparkling at this new insight to her intelligence. "Anyway, the name may be a cliché, but it's also very fitting. The food here is fantastic and. . ." He abruptly trailed off and his brow furrowed. "Ally, you do like Mexican food, right?" He'd never actually seen her eat it, not even in Rio. Amy wasn't the adventurous type when it came to food, so they'd eaten at restaurants with familiar food during their stay there.
Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "Doc, I'm a quarter Latina." She rolled her eyes in that familiar exasperated but fond way of hers. "Of course I like Mexican. I can't even tell you how upset I was when Bristol's only Mexican restaurant closed."
He chuckled. "Thank Rassilon, or this would've been awkward."
It was at that moment the bartender, who'd been leaning against the bar watching TV, noticed them. Slinging a rag over her shoulder, she jogged over to them. She was a very pretty young woman around Alex's age with shoulder-length dark brown hair, brown eyes, and pale pink lips. She adjusted the hem of her black scoop-neck tank-top, pulling it up a little as she approached.
"Sorry!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Just got here," the Doctor assured her.
"Oh, okay, good," she nodded, blinking rapidly. She winced and rubbed her left eye. "Gah, sorry, contact lenses. I hate these things. Well, anyway, as you can see, we're not short of seating. Do you wanna sit at the bar. . ."
"Patio," Alex declared.
The bartender nodded. "Gotcha," she said over her shoulder as she jogged behind the bar and grabbed two menus.
The patio area was populated by a few couples, one group clearly on some kind of business dinner, and a lone man in sunglasses reading a Mexico City newspaper. The bartender led them over to a table up against the railing, offering them a perfect view of Medano Beach. Alex surveyed the scene below her. Even though it was late afternoon, the beach was packed. She could see people tanning, tucked under umbrellas reading, jogging, walking their dogs, and swimming.
The bartender noticed her looking and grinned. "Yeah, the beach is packed this time of day. Little less so at night. I strongly recommend going down there later with a bucket of beers and just watching the ocean. It's great fun!"
"We'll keep that in mind," Alex said, although she had already decided to persuade the Doctor to do just that.
The bartender seemed to have read her mind for her grin became just a bit brighter. "I recommend the Dos Equis. Now, have you two been here before?"
Alex glanced at the Doctor. He sat across from her, studying the thick menu. "He has, but I haven't."
The bartender's grin turned a touch mischievous. "Well, then you've not done the Barriga llena first time ritual! A shot of our best tequila followed by a bite of lemon!" Before Alex could say anything, she'd jogged back to the bar.
Alex turned to the Doctor. He was staring at his menu just a little too intensely. "Ritual? Forgot to mention that, did you?"
He shrugged, but she could see the corners of his mouth twitching. "Must've slipped my mind."
Alex highly doubted that. "Uh-huh. And have you done this ritual before?"
"Yes, in my ninth incarnation." He wrinkled his nose. "Tasted disgusting. I wasn't much for tequila then."
"Are you now?"
The way his nose wrinkled even further answered that question. He glanced up at her. "You ever have tequila?"
"The cheap stuff at a house party once. We ran out of beer during beer pong, so we switched to this cheap tequila the host found in his parents' liquor cabinet. Then we all had to donate a couple dollars to buy a replacement before his parents got back."
The Doctor blinked at this information. Alex had told him about her past before, though he still found it difficult to believe the beautiful, intelligent, mature young woman before him was once running around drinking, skipping school, contemplating getting tattoos, and trying to pierce her nose. He tried to picture her playing beer pong at a house party. He couldn't visualize it. He admitted this to her.
Alex laughed. "Yeah, I can't believe I did it either. Not really something I'd do now. But Lacey was off with her flavor-of-the-week, and I was bored . . . and trying to impress the guy I liked."
The Doctor's mouth stretched into a wide grin. Ah, now to learn more about her romantic past! Only fitting, since she knew all about Rose, Romana, and Sarah Jane. But before he could ask, the bartender was back, carrying a bottle of Casamigos and a shot glass with salt around the rim and a lemon wedge stuck in it.
"Here we are!" she announced cheerfully. She set the shot glass in front of Alex and filled it up with tequila. "Shot, then lemon wedge."
Alex hesitantly picked up the glass. "There a name for this ritual?" she asked, peering at the liquid inside.
The bartender giggled. "Nope! Just a welcoming ritual."
"Lovely." Alex sighed and raised the glass to her lips. "Arriba, abajo, al centro y adentro," she muttered, then knocked back the shot. The tequila burned down her throat and Alex tried not to cough.
"Jesus!" she wheezed, much to the amusement of the Doctor and the bartender. With a little wince, Alex bit into the lemon wedge. It was nice and sour and a poor counter to the harsh tequila. Alex hastily chewed it and swallowed, her lips puckering as she did so.
"Bravo!" the Doctor cheered, clapping his hands. The bartender copied him, a grin lighting up her pretty features.
"Brava!" she echoed. "Some people spit it out or just absolutely refuse to do it."
Alex gave a hoarse cough. "Glad I could beat expectations then."
The bartender chuckled and picked up the shot glass, what remained of the lemon wedge, and the Casamigos bottle. "Okay, you two look over your menus and I'll be back in a few minutes."
Alex watched her go. "She's very cheerful," she observed.
"She is," the Doctor agreed. "Must be new. She wasn't here the last time I was here."
Alex opened her menu to the appetizer section. "When was that? And what's today's date? What year are we in?"
"May 16th, 2011. I wanted to stick to your timeline. And last time I was here was when I was in my tenth incarnation. I came here with another companion. She loved Mexican."
Alex noticed his somber expression and how he was staring off at the water, but not really seeing it. He was clearly lost in memories of whoever this companion was, and Alex got the feeling that it wasn't Rose. He would have specified if so, which meant that this companion was one she had yet to hear about. "Who was she?" she asked softly.
The Doctor was silent. She started to think that he wasn't going to answer when he finally whispered, "Donna. Donna Noble." His dark green eyes clouded with pain and his jaw clenched to the point that a vein was bulging outwards.
Alex picked at a worn corner of her menu. She could tell by the Doctor's reaction to saying her name that Donna had been a dear companion and her departure had not been a calm, pleasant one. She wanted to ask more about Donna, what she'd been like, how she'd helped the Doctor, but one of the great things about their relationship was that the Doctor and Alex knew when not to press the other about something. Now was one of those times.
Instead of satisfying her curiosity, she changed the subject. "What do you recommend here? You're the expert after all."
To her relief, the Doctor eagerly complied, and they were soon discussing different Mexican foods, debating on whether or not to order an appetizer, and if they should order any alcohol. By the time the bartender came back, the melancholic atmosphere Donna Noble's name had created was gone, replaced by the excited, tingling feeling of being on a date with someone you liked above all others. They placed their orders and the bartender dropped off their selected drinks: water for the Doctor and Diet Coke for Alex.
"So," the Doctor said, taking a sip of water. "Tell me more about this boy you were trying to impress at that house party."
Alex smirked. "Trying to check out the competition, Doc?"
He matched her smirk right back. "Hardly. Just curious. Seems fair, since I've told you all about Rose and Romana and Sarah Jane."
Alex shrugged. "True." She took a quick sip of Diet Coke. "Okay, so, it was a house party my freshman year of high school. Halloween party, costume mandatory. Lacey and I decided to do a couple's costume. She went as an angel, and I went as the devil."
"I have a hard time picturing you as a devil."
"You're so sweet. It was a good costume though. Lacey said it looked better on me than on her. Skintight red leather jumpsuit, a pair of red high-heels I borrowed from Marigold, a horns headband, and a pitchfork. Oh, and, of course, red lipstick."
The Doctor had to force himself to keep paying attention to her after the words 'skintight red leather jumpsuit'. He tried not to shiver at the mental picture she was painting, but it was a task far easier said than done. "Go on," he said, voice a bit deeper than normal.
Alex's copper-colored eyes twinkled. I knew he'd get affected by that. "So, for the first few hours, things were pretty normal. Lacey and I chatted with Jason Isaacs, the one throwing the party, and his girlfriend. Then Lacey's boyfriend at the time, Henry Jacobson, came and Lacey went off with him, so I hung out with people from the drama club. Then one of the members, Piper, pointed out that her cousin across the room was watching me."
She took a sip of her drink. "I'd been crushing on Victor for a while. He was a year above me and was hands down the hottest guy in that grade. Wavy dark hair, dark eyes, and rumor had it, a great kisser. That night, he was also wearing a devil costume, which was either a coincidence or someone had told him about my costume and he decided to wear the same, as a kind of signal to me.
"At that moment, Jason was calling for people to play beer pong. Most of the people who play beer pong at those parties are the jocks and their girlfriends, but Victor was also playing. He wasn't a jock; he was in the A/V club. He wanted to work for the NSA. So, fourteen-year-old me decides that the best way to get him to notice me is to participate in beer pong, which I'd never played before."
The Doctor snickered around his straw. "And how did that go?" Based on what he'd seen of Alex intoxicated, he had a pretty good idea of what happened.
Alex knew exactly what he was thinking. "I'm sure you can guess. I got drunk. Fast. I sucked at throwing the balls into the cups and the guys on the other team were the star basketball players, so they had great aim. Me and McKenna, the girl playing with me, got wasted. McKenna threw up in the swimming pool and her sister had to come get her."
"What about you?" the Doctor asked, growing concerned. He knew what could happen to intoxicated girls at parties. He hoped and prayed that Alex hadn't been one of them.
He hadn't realized his hand was clenched around his glass until Alex reached out and gently plucked it from his grasp. Once she'd set it on the table, she laced her fingers through his. A jolt of electricity raced up his arm and his bloodstream became flushed with soothing adrenaline. He looked up and saw Alex's loving gaze staring back at him.
"Nothing like what you're imagining happened to me, Doc," she murmured. She stared straight into his eyes so that he would know she was telling the truth. "I was always careful, and I had good friends. If anyone tried anything, they would've stopped it." She waited until he leaned back in his chair, relieved, before continuing her story.
"Well, I was flat-out drunk and probably would have fallen into the vomit-ridden pool had Victor not come to my rescue. He steered me away from the party into a spare bedroom and made me sit on the bed with my head between my knees while he sent a friend off to get some water. We chatted for a while, talked about the drama club, A/V club, friends and classmates, and when I no longer felt like I was going to throw up, he drove me home."
"Where was Lacey during all this?"
"She came by to check on me." Alex suddenly snorted. "And I think she threatened Victor too, 'cause she asked to speak to him outside and when he came back in, he looked like he'd seen a ghost."
"Always knew I liked that girl," the Doctor snickered. "Strange that she didn't threaten me first time I met her."
"Maybe she thought Marigold was being hard enough on you."
"Perhaps." He took a sip of water. "So, what happened with you and Victor?"
Alex leaned back in her chair and tilted her face towards the sun. "He drove me home, held my hair while I threw up in the rosebushes, and then he had Piper text me his number so he could ask me out on a date.
"We dated for about a month. It was nice. Went to the movies where he always paid for the popcorn and Red Hots, bowling a few times, and once I ditched a pep rally for the football team and we drove all the way to Louisville where we convinced a bartender that we were newlyweds and got mint juleps on the house." Alex chuckled at the memory. "Like I said, I was wild back then and I liked wild guys."
"You have met me, right?" the Doctor joked.
Alex giggled. "Oh, yeah, good point!"
The Doctor smirked, rather pleased that he fit her type of man. "So what happened with Victor?"
"He came up to me between classes one day and said that it just wasn't working out for him. He said he was sorry, the bell rang, and he left for math class and I to lunch."
She didn't add how un-devastated she felt by the news. Sure, she'd been sad that her time with Victor was over. He was fun, good-looking, and respected her in a way most boys didn't. She would miss making out with him, having him pay for her popcorn and Red Hots, and texting her at 3:00 AM to make sure she was actually sleeping instead of reading ahead for history. But Alex had felt more like she'd just gotten rid of an old sweater; something that was pretty and practical, but not something she could claim to love or adore or cry over when it no longer fit her.
Victor breaking up with her hadn't upset her like it did Lacey. Lacey had ranted and raved, wondering all through their lunch break if there was another girl somewhere in the wings. All Alex had done was shrug and continue to eat her chips while flipping through Lacey's newest issue of Elle.
She was pulled out of her musing by the Doctor saying, "I'm sorry. He was an idiot."
Alex smiled and reached across the table to link her fingers with his. Both shivered at the familiar thrum of adrenaline racing up their arms. "It's fine," she dismissed. "Really." Her eyes turned just a touch impish, but the Doctor could see the overwhelming adoration behind it. "Led me to you, didn't it?"
He smiled a little bashfully. "Yes," he murmured, tracing the lifeline on her palm. His calloused fingertip felt rough and dangerous against her skin and Alex shivered. The Doctor noticed this, and his smile became a bit more smug than bashful.
The moment was interrupted by the arrival of their cheerful bartender. She was carefully balancing their plates on one arm while focusing straight ahead. Alex recognized it as a trick Heather McEntire, the head waitress at Blondie's when she first started working there, taught her: Never look at the food you're carrying. If you do, you risk bumping into stuff or getting so scared it'll fall off and you'll like a moron in front of the customers.
It seemed the bartender had a similar lesson drilled into her as she only looked at the food once it was placed firmly on the table. "Okay! Chicken in a dark red mole sauce for the gentleman, and a chicken chimichanga for the lady!" She glanced at their half-full drink glasses and promptly whisked them off the table. "I'll get y'all refills," she called over her shoulder as she briskly walked back towards the bar.
"You better give her a good tip," Alex said as she cut into her chimichanga. Suddenly, she paused. "You did bring money, right?" she asked in a low voice.
The Doctor stared at her, affronted. "Of course I did, Ally." His tone implied that this was something she should have already known. "While I admit I don't usually travel with money, I knew we'd need some for this outing. It's hardly gentlemanly for you to pay, anyways."
"You know I don't mind paying for stuff myself, right?" While she absolutely loved chivalry, Alex didn't want him to feel pressured to do things she was perfectly capable of doing herself.
He smiled warmly. "I know. But humor me this once, please?"
"So long as you're getting dessert too, it's a deal."
Unnoticed by them, the bartender reappeared with their drinks. Glancing back-and-forth between them, she wordlessly set the glasses down and slipped away, her lips quirked in a small, satisfied smile.
The Doctor chuckled and picked up his newly arrived water. He held it out towards Alex, and she reciprocated by raising her Diet Coke. They clinked their glasses together as the Doctor said, "Deal."
The time it took to eat their meal seemed like it flew by, but when Alex looked around as the Doctor prepared to pay the check, she saw that the sun was starting to set over the ocean. The sky was a mixture of pink, gold, and orange, and the crowd on the beach had significantly diminished. There were only a few people out there now, mostly consisting of couples heading off for a stroll, teenagers staking out spots for bonfires, and a couple surfers looking to catch one last wave.
The Doctor, per Alex's request, made sure to give the bartender a good tip. She had been pretty helpful after all. Rather enthusiastic, but maybe she just really loved her job. He looked around for the woman in question, but she was nowhere to be seen. The space behind the bar was empty even though there were at least a dozen people seated before it, eyes glued to the soccer match on TV.
He managed to catch the gaze of a passing waitress. She was about Alex and the bartender's age with waist-length red hair a couple shades lighter than Amy's. She adjusted the glasses perched on her nose as she approached.
"Can I help you?"
"We're ready to pay only the, uh, bartender isn't here. She was the one taking care of us."
The redhead nodded. "Oh, yeah, we ran out of a bunch of best-selling beer, and she had to run to the store to get some more." She glanced over her shoulder at the growing crowd by the bar. "It's never good to be out of beer on a football night," she said knowingly. She grabbed the checkbook. "I'll take care of this for you."
"Make sure the . . . wait, what is her name, actually?" It felt weird to just keep calling their cheerful, helpful waitress 'the bartender'.
"Most people call her Daffy." The redhead suddenly grinned. "And I'm Liv. Or Livvie. Olivia when it's my mother and she's cross."
The Doctor nodded, though he was barely listening to her. 'Daffy'? he thought, bewildered. What kind of a name is that? Looking over at Alex, he could tell she was thinking the same thing.
"We left a tip for her," Alex explained. "Can you make sure she gets it?"
If it was possible, Liv's grin grew wider. "Will do!" she chirped and headed off to the bar.
A few minutes later, the Doctor and Alex were back on the street. There were a few more people out than before; a group of Mexican teenagers had taken the elderly couple's place on the bench and were all laughing animatedly as one guy told a story in rapid-fire Spanish. Several shoppers flittered in and out of various stores and one guy had set up a food booth. He was currently peddling hot tamales and had a steady line of customers.
The Doctor took Alex's hand and led her down the street, closer to the ocean. Normally, Alex's body would have gotten tenser and tenser with each step closer to the massive body of water, her heart racing in memory of the night she lost her parents and nearly her life. But now, with the Doctor's hand firmly intertwined with hers, she felt perfectly fine. Safe, even.
And as she basked in this feeling, Alex realized that she had never felt like this with anyone she'd dated. Not even Victor.
~The Pros and Cons of Silence~
A few hours later, Alex leaned back against the Doctor's chest and took a sip of her beer. Now that she was into her second bottle, the alcohol was going smoothly down her throat and leaving a rich aftertaste behind.
After leaving the restaurant, the Doctor had led her down to a street just on the perimeter of Medano Beach where there was an excellent ice creamery. Alex had never tasted fried ice cream before, and the Doctor had endeavored to change that. The dessert, fried vanilla ice cream sprinkled with cinnamon, peppermint, and a touch of whipped cream, could best be described as heavenly. Just thinking about it now made Alex crave some more.
After that, they had taken Daffy's advice and gotten a bucket of Dos Equis and headed down to the beach. It was a little more active than before, but still pretty quiet. Bonfires dotted the coastline, one of them just a stone's throw away from where she and the Doctor were seated. The people around the fire were American college students, easily recognized as such by their UCLA sweatshirts. None of them paid the slightest bit of attention to the couple, too engrossed in drinking and stressing about the rapidly approaching end to their spring break.
"This is nice," Alex hummed as she took another sip of beer. It was probably the fifth time she'd said it since they sat down, but it was nice. It was nice just to lay about, drinking some beer, watching the ocean, talking about anything that came to mind and not worrying about whatever hostile alien was around the corner.
The Doctor made a noise of agreement. While he was usually adverse to sitting around, doing nothing, he really did like just sitting with Alex. He liked sitting beside her, free to touch her whenever he wanted. Her mere presence was intoxicating enough to keep his more restless senses occupied, cataloging her every move and gesture for future reference.
Now, he pulled her even closer to him so that she was fully pressed back against his chest. He leaned back against the sand dune behind him and wrapped his arm around her waist. If she wanted to get up, she'd have to move it; not that she was going to move anytime soon. They both knew that.
The Doctor finished off his beer and tossed it into the small pile at their feet. He grabbed another one from the bucket and expertly snapped off the cap. He took a swig before saying, "I am a bit surprised by how much I'm enjoying this."
Alex tossed her own empty bottle away. "Yeah," she giggled as she scrabbled for the bucket. "Usually you hate sitting still."
"I do," he agreed. "But. . ." He tried to work out what he wanted to say as he passed her a beer. ". . .but with you," he continued, "it's okay." He smiled sheepishly and took another sip of beer. "Not very eloquent, I realize."
"Nonsense," Alex declared. She turned her head enough so that she was looking at him. "I liked how you said it." Once the Doctor smiled, she turned back to face the ocean. She waited until he took another sip of beer before adding, "Makes me wonder what you'd say and how in the bedroom."
She wasn't disappointed. The Doctor choked and let out several coughs. "R-really?" he gasped through another cough.
Though he couldn't see it, Alex smirked. "Really, Doc."
For a few moments, she thought he wasn't going to respond. Then, he leaned down close to her ear. Alex shivered at the feeling of his breath against the sensitive skin. She felt his arm tighten slightly around her while his other hand crept to her chin, tilting it up to where the bridge of her ear brushed against his lips. "I look forward to that day, then," he whispered roughly. Alex felt him grin at the full-body shudder she emitted, as well as the quick kiss he pressed to the top of her ear before leaning back.
"You and me both," she murmured, knowing he would hear her quiet words.
The Doctor responded by kissing the top of her head. Nothing more was said between them as they resumed watching the ocean and finishing off the beers.
~The Pros and Cons of Silence~
Daffy rushed from one end of the bar to the other. In the span of a few seconds, she'd tossed three empty beer bottles into the trash-can tucked beneath the bar, gotten the drinkers new ones, and handed one impatient elderly man his change. He muttered something under his breath and thrust a single peso at her.
"Gracias," Daffy sighed. She went to the other end of the bar where the tip jar sat and tucked the peso inside. There wasn't a lot of money inside, but Daffy knew from experience that she would end up with a little over a hundred pesos by the end of her shift. That's what always happened on football match nights.
Speaking of football. . . A loud groan swept through the restaurant as the América goalie failed to catch the ball. Several curses were uttered, both in Spanish and in English. Daffy glanced up at the screen. The camera was panning across the stadium crowd. The América fans were shaking their heads, looking absolutely miserable, while the rival team's fans were jumping up and down in exhilaration. The América coach called for a time out and as the teams jogged to their respective benches, the screen switched to a toothpaste commercial.
With the temporary interlude, the crowd around the bar broke up. Some went to speak to people at other tables, others went to the bathroom, and some went to the balcony for a quick cigarette. Daffy decided she could use a quick break as well.
She headed out onto the balcony and went to lean against the railing overlooking the beach. She took a deep breath, inhaling the night air. The salty scent of the ocean soothed her hectic nerves. It had always done this to her, the exact opposite of what her mother usually felt when by the ocean.
She lingered there for a few moments before turning around. She peered over at the bar. No one had returned yet and the TV was now showing a promo for tomorrow's episode of La Reina del Sur. She could waste a few more minutes.
Daffy surveyed the balcony. Plenty of people had arrived since the soccer game started, wanting to grab a bite to eat. Most were natives, but she did spot a few tourists; there was a group of girls wearing matching University of Ohio sweatshirts, several families, an elderly couple clearly on a retirement vacation, and a group of people in their thirties who were most likely on some kind of corporate retreat, based on their business casual attire.
But one person in particular caught Daffy's eye. He was seated against the rail at the left end of the patio. He was an older man with salt and pepper hair and deep brown eyes surrounded by crow's feet. Despite the fact that he looked to be at least in his late fifties, he still looked rather distinguished and attractive. He was dressed entirely in black: black t-shirt, black jeans, black boots, and a black leather jacket. A pair of black sunglasses rested on the table beside his half-empty water glass. Even though it was dark now and the overhead lanterns only provided a little glow of light, he was attentively reading a Mexico City newspaper and showing no signs that he was straining to do so.
Daffy smirked and headed towards his table. As she got closer, she could feel the slight sense of danger radiating off the man. It was why, despite how attractive he was, no woman had approached him all night. Even now, Daffy was aware of several customers eyeing her incredulously as she passed. She spotted one woman shaking her head and muttering 'stupid girl' under her breath. No doubt they all thought she was an idiot for daring to get within two feet of this man.
But Daffy had known this man for a long time and his aura of danger had never been off-putting to her. Rather, it only intrigued her and drew her in, much to the consternation of her parents.
She plopped down into the vacant chair across from the man. "Good reading, Gramps?" she asked, nodding to the newspaper.
Her grandfather didn't even look up when he said, "How many times must I tell you not to call me that?"
"Only about every other day," Daffy said with a cheeky grin. She propped her chin in one hand and used her other hand to drum her fingers against the tabletop. "Seriously, is that good reading? You've been reading that paper all day and night."
"I find some current political events particularly interesting. They require intense study if they are to be conducive to my business."
"Are you ever going to tell me what this business of yours is?" It was something that drove Daffy crazy. She couldn't stand not knowing things, something her grandfather knew perfectly well. She suspected he kept his business dealings a secret not because there was anything illegal or morally wrong about them, but just to rile her up by continuously guessing.
Her grandfather finally looked up from his paper. His lips curved into a small smile and his eyes twinkled. They were facial traits that Daffy had only ever seen aimed at her and her mother. "Ah," he said slowly, his North London accent thickening slightly, "but then . . . where would the fun be in that?" He burst out laughing when Daffy scowled at him. The sudden burst of emotion caused several people at nearby tables to jump, which only made him laugh harder.
"You're a sadist," Daffy declared as she slumped back in her chair. "A total sadist."
Still chuckling, her grandfather turned back to the newspaper. "So your mother and father have been telling me for years." He paused in turning the page to the sports section. "I will tell you that my business is flexible. It can be stopped with no consequence to me should you decide you want to leave Cabo." He glanced up at Daffy. She was perfectly calm, her facial features showing no reaction to his veiled suggestion.
He sighed. Time to take the bull by the horns then. "We have been here for six months, Daphne. Aren't you quite ready to move on now?"
Daffy rolled her eyes. The act caused her contact lenses to pinch and she winced. "You sound just like Dad. Always wanting to move on after trouble's over, never stop to smell the roses, taste the food, kiss a stranger."
Her grandfather abruptly scowled. "You'll be kissing no one no matter where we travel," he growled. "That boy on Pedra II was quite enough."
"Now you really sound like Dad," Daffy smirked.
Before her grandfather could retort – and going off his scowl he was about to deliver a scathing one – Liv suddenly jumped onto the tabletop beside Daffy.
"My god," she groaned, "tonight is just relentless." She pulled off her glasses and wiped one of the lenses with the hem of her tank-top. "I hate football matches."
"You're English!" Daffy laughed. "That's like saying you hate tea and biscuits."
"I like football matches," Liv protested, "but only when I'm watching them at home, in my jimjams, with tea and chocolate biscuits." She put her glasses back on. "You know, enjoying it with my creature comforts. Not when I'm running all around fetching orders and refilling drinks and trying to convince Mr. Alverez that my arse does not have a 'feel-it-up' sign on it."
"Just think of all the tips you'll get," Daffy said soothingly. "Money you can use to buy chocolate biscuits, fried ice cream, new sundresses. . ."
"Ooh! Speaking of tips. . ." Liv reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a couple of crumpled bills. "Guess who left you a nice tip."
Daffy's eyes widened. She snatched the money out of Liv's hand. "Whoa. . ." she breathed. "Seriously?"
Liv grinned. "Seriously."
"Did they say anything?" Daffy's voice was full of hope. "You know, about me?"
"No, sorry. Just asked that I make sure you get this." At Daffy's deflated look, Liv gently added, "Daff, you didn't want them to know who you were. You played the part perfectly. Just your regular, friendly neighborhood bartender."
Daffy nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's just . . . I thought they might notice something."
Liv considered. "Well . . . they noticed your name. They didn't say anything, but the looks on their faces said they thought 'Daffy' was a stupid name."
At this, Daffy chuckled. "Some things never change. Mom says it's a name you give a duck."
"So does your father," her grandfather remarked. His eyes were back on his newspaper, studying an article about a new art gallery opening on the other side of town. "I can't believe he had money to pay, let alone tip you."
Liv rolled her eyes. "You don't give Uncle Doctor enough credit. He'd never let Aunt Alex pay, especially on their first date."
Daffy nodded emphatically. "Dad treats Mom like a queen. Always has, always will." Her lips curved into a wistful smile. "It was nice to see the beginning of that."
"So that's why you've insisted on staying here!" her grandfather exclaimed. He shook his head and folded his newspaper so that he could fully concentrate on Daffy. "I knew it had to be more than because of the beach and the food. I didn't bank on it being to spy on your parents' first date."
"Please," Daffy scoffed. "Like you weren't spying the moment you spotted them."
The way her grandfather pursed his lips pretty much confirmed that statement.
Daffy gave a satisfied nod and turned back to Liv. "As I was saying, nice to see the beginning of everything before. . ." Her expression became strained, and she trailed off.
Liv smiled sympathetically. "Before all the shit hits the fan?"
"Yes, exactly." Daffy fiddled with the table's napkin dispenser. She'd heard about what happened to her parents in the upcoming months from a wide variety of sources and each time she heard the events, it sent a little pain to her hearts. She hated that her parents, two of the nicest, most caring individuals she'd ever known, had suffered so much. Granted, it brought them even closer together and ensured a few things – like her existence – but it was still upsetting to hear and think about.
Liv, being her best friend, immediately sensed her thoughts. She reached over and patted Daffy's arm. "Come on, Daff," she murmured. "You know a lot of good came out of that craziness and suffering."
Daffy let out a long sigh. "I know. It's just. . ." Her nails drummed the top of the napkin dispenser as she struggled to articulate her messy thoughts. "I wish I could warn them. So they wouldn't be going in blind. And, yes, I know I can't tell them," she added when her grandfather opened his mouth to say just that. "It'd cause a giant paradox, end of the space-time continuum, blah, blah, blah." It was all old hat to her. Her dad had been teaching her about paradoxes since she was in the womb.
"I get it, Daff," Liv said. She fiddled with her glasses, adjusting them so they sat higher on her nose. "Believe me, I wish I could tell my parents about all the shit that happened to them." She sighed. "Maybe then some things would be different."
Daffy wasn't sure what to say to that. She and Liv had gone over these concerns countless times before and after a while, you just didn't know what to say that didn't sound disingenuous or like a cliché.
Fortunately, the conversation was forced to come to an end. Liv abruptly straightened to attention. "Table seventeen's waving for their check," she explained as she hopped off the table. "Gotta jet!"
Daffy sighed as Liv bounced away. "I guess I should be going, too." No doubt the soccer match was back on and people had re-congregated around the bar. She pushed her chair back and got to her feet. "Do you need anything?"
Her grandfather flipped to the back of the newspaper. "A pen, if you can find one," he said as he studied a page. "For the crossword. And something to drink. None of that fizz this planet calls alcohol."
"Soda it is then." She started to walk away, only for a sudden pinching feeling to start up in her right eye. "Oh, for God's sake," Daffy groaned. She dug into the bigger-on-the-inside pocket of her shorts and, after pulling out a feather pen, a pack of bubblegum, and a bottle of lavender-scented hand sanitizer, finally dug out a contact lens case. "Rassilon, I hate these things," Daffy groused as she pulled her left contact out.
"But they were necessary," her grandfather remarked, taking the feather pen. He watched as she pulled the right lens out and tucked it into the case. "Your parents would have had collective strokes if they caught sight of your eyes." He raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "Not exactly common, you and your mother's eyes."
"I'm well aware." Daffy tucked the contact lens and other trinkets back into her pocket. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to their newfound freedom. "Why do you think I got the damn things?" She'd known that if her parents caught sight of her eyes – and, most especially, them changing colors – they would get suspicious. And that would cause a whole litany of problems, the least of which was a possible negative effect to her timeline.
Still, even with the contacts in, she had hoped her parents might have noticed something about her. A little recognition that she was important to them in the future. With her current travels, she didn't see her parents a lot. She called them regularly, but it wasn't quite the same as seeing them in person, watching her mom and dad flirt, finish each-other's sentences, and generally fussing over each-other like they had since the day they met. Daffy found herself missing her mom's less than stellar attempts at cooking and the incredibly annoying habit her dad had of bouncing into her room to wake her up (at an incredibly early hour, no less). Those were things she'd been eager to leave behind when she started traveling with her grandfather and Liv, but now Daffy longed for burnt brownies and three a.m. wake-up calls.
"You know," her grandfather said, snapping Daffy out of her memories, "I was talking to your mother yesterday and she mentioned something about a little trouble in Dartmoor." While he wasn't looking directly at her, his eyes locked on the crossword puzzle, Daffy knew he was still paying her a great deal of attention.
Daffy tried not to, but she found herself raising an eyebrow anyway. One of her tells that meant she was not just interested, but very interested. "What kind of trouble?"
Her grandfather's eyes stayed on the paper. "Didn't specify, but enough to get the attention of UNIT and have them ask for your father."
"And in your opinion?"
"Has to be something incredible to get on UNIT's radar. Needs to be highly dangerous for them to call your parents in." After another moment of examining the paper, he abruptly folded it in half and straightened in his chair. "I propose we take a little vacation."
"A vacation where we get into trouble?" Daffy snorted, but she was smiling as she said it.
"Why, my dear, those are the best kind!" Her grandfather started to give her a bright grin only to suddenly adopt a stern manner. "And do not say I sound like your father there either or I swear, we'll pack up tomorrow and head for Metebelis Three."
Daffy shivered at the mention of the planet (she absolutely loathed spiders) but she knew her grandfather well enough to know that his threat was an empty one. "I wasn't going to say anything of the kind," she smiled.
The look on her grandfather's face told her he doubted that. Nevertheless, his bright grin returned. "Excellent! When can we leave?"
"Liv and I will request time off tomorrow. I know some of the newbies have been wanting more hours, so we should get it pretty easily." A loud groan suddenly erupted from the direction of the bar. Daffy glanced over her shoulder. "I really gotta go now."
"Go on," her grandfather said easily, already opening his paper back up. "I'll tell Liv when she comes round. When do you get off?"
"Soon as the game's over."
"How about we get some fried ice cream afterwards? As much as you girls can eat."
Daffy's eyes lit up. Say what you like about her grandfather (and plenty, including her parents, had), but he was exceedingly good to her. He knew that, despite the idea of going to assist her parents, she was still a little upset. He knew perfectly well that when she was upset, like her mother, she ate ice cream. "Deal!" she chirped, sounding very much like her mom when she was excited. "Thanks, Gramps!"
Her grandfather chuckled as she skipped away from the table. "Don't call me Gramps!" he called after her. Even without looking though, Daffy could tell that he was smiling.
As she had expected, all the familiar faces had re-congregated around the bar. They didn't even seem to have noticed her long absence, too fixated on the game. Daffy mechanically began tossing away empties, grabbing new ones, and updating the open tabs on the bar computer. When all of this was accomplished, she started to lean back against the corner of the bar where there was a good vantage point of the TV above, only to quickly straighten when someone tapped her on the shoulder.
"Yes, can I help you?" she asked as she spun around.
The customer was one of the girls from the University of Ohio group. She had long, bleached blonde hair, dark brown eyes, and a cute little button nose. It crinkled as she smiled at Daffy. "Hey, can I get a refill?" She held up a Mic Ultra can. "The waitress seemed pretty busy, so I thought I'd just come up here, if that's all right."
"No problem!" Daffy quickly replaced the empty can and handed it back to the girl with a flourish. "Here you go," she started to say, only to see that the girl's eyes were tightly fixed on hers.
"Wow," the girl breathed. "Your eyes. . . They just changed colors!"
A slow grin came to Daffy's face. At the same time, her eyes turned from light green to dark. "I know," she said easily. "I get it from my mom."
~The Pros and Cons of Silence~
A/N: As of 2/8/22, this chapter has been extensively edited. The Dalex date is now its own separate chapter, not attached to the last part of 'Touched by an Angel'. Note that the face claims for two of the characters has also been changed.
I must admit, when I started writing Alex, I didn't plan for her and the Doctor to have kids (I'm not much of a kid-fic person) but then Daffy popped into my head and . . . well here she is! I really hope you like her. We'll be seeing her every now and then but her full entrance into the story won't be for a long time. I've got a vague idea of when her baby-self will enter the story, but it's a long time until that occurs. :)
Also, who is her mysterious grandfather and Liv? I did include a little hint about who Liv's parents are but I'm staying mum on Daffy's Gramps.
Cast notes:
Daffy - Emmy Rossum
Liv - Katherine McNamara
Daffy's Grandfather - Alan Rickman