Note: These were written for Dalek Week over on DeviantArt. The first story, "parents", is set between parts 1 & 2 of "face to face".
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1. parents
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Alek frowns at his computer screen. "What am I to do with a loris?"
Thousands of miles away, Deryn leans back in her chair, rummaging for more crisps. "I don't know, daftie. It's your sidequest."
He checks the word describing the hatched egg. "It's 'perspicacious'. What does that mean?"
She Googles it. " 'Clever'."
"I was expecting something like… 'ferocious'."
She grins. "Babies surprise you, Da."
He straightens, indignant. "I'm not its father!"
"Right. You hatched it, so really, you're its mum."
He glares; she winks; defeated, he sighs. "Shall we invade Istanbul now?"
She grabs more crisps. "Aye, Ma, let's."
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2. roaring 20s
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Deryn shades her eyes. Squints down the fairway. They're only on the fifth hole, and she's already pure dead bored.
She whispers as much to Alek while the Zoological Society boffins they're accompanying are arguing over the number of strokes.
"Shhh," he says, frowning.
"You're listening to this blether?" Dr. Barlow was never this tiresome.
Now he looks surprised. "Yes - it's quite fascinating. The rules are simple, but in practice the game seems to be much more complex -"
He goes on about strategy and calculations. Deryn sighs, facing this new destiny.
At least her golf clothes include trousers.
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3. blindfold
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Perhaps it's the practice she's had with her own that makes Deryn so deft at removing Alek's tie. It must be; he is hopelessly fumble-fingered, still, at undoing any of her clothing. Particularly those verdammt bindings.
But Deryn strips away the necktie with hardly a break in their kiss.
"Mm? Liebe?" he murmurs, half-mad from the heat, the weight, the taste of her. Clarity returns, however, when she slips his tie around his eyes. "What…?"
"Hold still, love," she whispers. The wicked grin in her voice stops his breath.
Rather too late, he remembers how clever she is with knots.
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4. summer afternoons
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"It's too blistering hot!"
Deryn loosens her tie, pops one button free, and envies Alek.
Alek (three buttons undone) looks about the Zoo. She's right, but their options are limited. "There's... the lake in Regent's Park...?"
She gestures at her chest. "Splashing about won't help things, Dummkopf."
"True. Hmm... then perhaps we should find somewhere more secluded, where you can remove your disguise."
She smirks at him. "Are you trying to get my shirt off, Mr. Hohenberg?"
"Only for the sake of your health," he says, straight-faced.
"In that case," she says, wiping sweat from her forehead, "lead the way."
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5. WWII
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Sophie and Max run ahead on the path, laughing; Ernst drowses on Alek's shoulder, small, heavy, and warm.
"Not too far!" Deryn calls after them.
"Sometimes I wonder," Alek says to her, apropos of nothing, "what might have been if the war had gone on. Reparations nearly shattered Germany as it was. What if it had been worse? Would they have sought some measure of revenge? Started a new war to assuage their pride?"
She shrugs. Practical. "Doesn't matter now, does it?"
He smiles. "I suppose not."
She gives him a kiss, takes Ernst from him, and they walk on.
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6. obsession
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"We should visit your mother," Alek says – too casually.
Deryn looks up from her sketchbook. One eyebrow lifts. "Because you miss her terribly?"
"Of course."
"Not because there's a golf course only a wee distance from her house."
"Your accusation is entirely baseless," he says. Then he adds, hopeful: "Do you think that if I bring my clubs…?"
She rolls her eyes. "I think you need a new obsession, love. That game's barking daft."
He smirks. "But it's very Scottish."
"Aye, laddie, and so am I," she retorts, and kisses him.
He forgets about golf then…
…for a while, anyway.
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7. generations
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The lone round tower still stands, bold against the clouds.
"Grandda?"
Alek drops his eyes. His granddaughter is tugging his sleeve with one small hand. She stares up, awestruck.
"Did you really live here?"
"Yes." Sixteen years of memories in that word.
"Golly," she breathes.
He looks over at Deryn, walking in the rose garden with their son, then back to the castle. His father built this; his mother made it home.
Now Alek lives thousands of kilometers away, and Konopischt is a museum.
Pain pricks his heart, but he smiles. Takes his granddaughter's hand. "Would you like a tour?"
