Touching Time 1/7
TITLE: Touching Time
CHARACTERS: Ten/Rose, nothing but Ten/Rose
RATING: Teen (Adultish for later chapters)
SPOILERS: Up to Idiots Lantern, but very nonspecifically
SUMMARY: You want talky, angsty, witty-banter Ten? You've got him. Now with 30% more romance and UST!
DISCLAIMER: Insert humorous note about how I don't own the characters nor make any money off them right here.
BETA: The lovely and talented jaradel, but at the end of the day any errors and all silliness are entirely my fault.
A/N: A sequel to Flowers on Air. Not vital to have read that, but references are made to the action and themes of that story.
This Chapter: The Doctor's promised trip to a leisure planet goes somewhat awry (of course).
"There. Lovely. Two rooms at the Grand Catraxian Hotel on Venus." The Doctor pointed at the console display screen. "Whad'ya say? Fancy a little holiday?"
Rose, perched on the jump seat, was still stuck several clauses back. "There's a...a luxury hotel on the planet Venus?"
The Doctor squinted one eye at her. "No, of course not, don't be daft. The surface temperature of Venus is four hundred and fifty degrees." He paused, furrowing his brow in thought. "Mind you, that wasn't the worst holiday I ever had. That would have been a very ill-conceived camping trip to the great wilderness of Hylidae. It rains one thousand eight hundred and twenty five days a year there. Though the company wasn't bad--"
"Doctor?"
"What?"
Rose lifted an eyebrow. "You were saying? About Venus?"
"Oh yes, the eighth moon of Catraxus: Venus. Where lies the Grand Catraxian Hotel, home of the universally famous anti-gravity spa. And the chefs, they're all Fringillas--Fringillae? Fringillii? They're mildly empathic, can tell what your favorite food is before you even say it. And there's windsurfing, where you literally surf on the actual wind! It's brilliant! And the hot springs have these tiny little fish in them that eat away all your dead skin and you come out looking like the day you were born. Well, not literally. And, er, it's not like I've ever, you know...I wouldn't need to...I mean, it's not really a bloke thing, is it? But if I were to do it, just, you know, for talking's sake, I would make sure I wore a bathing suit. Maybe two. Just a hunch I'm having." He coughed and rubbed the back of his head but then was off again. "Oh! And if you fancy a little wagering, there's that, though I've got rubbish luck and I don't know how to play any of the games anyway. Besides, last time we made a bet it worked out rather poorly. Anyway. How about it? Yeah?" The Doctor continued to indicate the picture on the display screen hopefully.
Rose took a few more seconds to catch up on all of the information and finally smiled warmly and nodded. "It sounds very nice. Can't wait."
His face lit up like a hundred watt bulb.
"Don't have to!" He jabbed a finger in the air triumphantly. "We're already there!"
Ah, bless, thought Rose, standing from the bench. "Well then, I'll just pack a bag, shall I? Don't go wandering off."
She looked towards the doors--the doors that the Doctor was already inching towards casually. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.
Rose called from the hallway to her quarters, "I know you. You'll go wandering off and get in to some sort of trouble and I'll have to come rescue you and then we'll have to do a whole bunch of running...."
She returned to the console room with a big red rucksack on her back, where she found the Doctor already in his coat and standing by the doors. When he noticed her enter, he immediately began to inspect a bit of coral quite studiously, as if he'd been doing that the whole time she was gone. She rolled her eyes as he opened the doors and invited her to step through.
The natural light on Venus, the eighth moon of the planet Catraxus, was a soft silver, almost bluish. The TARDIS was parked on the far side of a wide, and completely empty, promenade, across which was the immense facade of the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa. It took up their entire field of vision and looked to be nearly 100 stories tall and several city blocks in length. Clearly the hotel was not really meant to be viewed from the outside. Either that or the aesthetic of the native Catraxians was quite utilitarian. Rose looked up and down the promenade and noted that it was in all directions totally devoid of people, of any species.
The Doctor stuck his hand out and and she took it, but then he pulled back suddenly. Rose felt her face redden slightly as she had a split-second jolt of fear that this was going to be the moment in which he decided that the massive amount of hand-holding in their relationship--second only to the massive amount of running for their lives and hugging--was no longer appropriate. When she turned to look at him, however, he was offering his arm instead.
"If we're going to cross the promenade, don't you think we should, y'know, promenade?" He gave a little half-smile.
Rose breathed again and relaxed, taking his arm. "Oh indubitably sir. Pip pip and all that."
The air was a little on the chilly side and there seemed to be a tang in it that might be saltwater, but then again might also be some alien chemical compound hitherto unknown. The hotel was even more gargantuan once they were right up against it, in front of the sliding glass doors. Rose looked straight up and couldn't even see the top, just the pale lavender sky (cloudless) beyond.
Stepping in to the lobby, Rose made no effort to suppress a gasp. It was colossal in scale, with everything a stark, even clinical, white. It was also, like the promenade, completely empty. As they entered however, a polite computerized voice rang out from over their heads.
"New Guests: Two. Species: Human. Species: Unknown."
Rose smacked the Doctor's arm conspiratorially at the "unknown" species moniker. "They broke the mold, absolutely," he said.
"Standby," the computer voice said again.
Rose and the Doctor stood by. The air in front of them seemed to turn to liquid or thick glass for a number of seconds but just as Rose was about to reach out and touch it, it dissolved again and they now faced not a stark white hall but a sumptuous hotel lobby right out of the Gilded Age. The walls were plush with textured wall-papers in maroons and golds, the Persian carpets soft under their feet as if they were still brand new, velvet curtains hung here and there, with settees, chaise lounges and statuary placed in tasteful groupings.
Rose knew she didn't even have to ask, and just looked at the Doctor quizzically.
"Perception filter," he said matter-of-factly.
"Please check in at hospitality station eleven," said the voice.
The Doctor craned his neck and they located a bank of deeply stained wooden counters fitted with shining brass fixtures in the distance. "That looks to be a likely candidate for hospitality station eleven," he chirped and strode off. Rose took her time in following, wanting to appreciate the ambiance and scale of the place. It didn't really strike her as odd until a bit later that it had clearly been built to accommodate a huge number of people, yet it was utterly empty. She sidled up to where the Doctor was standing, at a counter facing a computer screen from which a voice emanated.
"Yes, that's it, two rooms reserved. Luxury suites." He winked at Rose. If she hadn't known better, she'd think he was trying to impress her. As it was, she knew he was trying to impress her.
"Very good, sir," said the computer, the display just a series of wavy lines and circles. "The hospitality droid will escort you to your isolation chambers for quarantine."
The Doctor clearly had a thank you on his lips, but at this information bit it off before it could get out. "What?" he said instead.
Rose shuffled closer to the Doctor, thinking this business was sounding like it might be one of those cases where she was whisked off somewhere without him suddenly. And then he'd have to rescue her, and then there'd be the running, and then the hugging.
"You've arrived during the biennial outbreak of spinal pox. All guests arriving at this time must spend 10 days in quarantine for their own safety, in one of our isolation chambers. It's all in the brochure, sir."
"What?!" the Doctor said again, slightly more panicked. Rose was growing more unimpressed by the moment.
"Spinal pox? Doctor? What's that?" Rose pulled her jumper up over her mouth and nose and took her hand off the counter where it had been resting, wiping it on her jeans.
The computer answered, "It's in the brochure, ma'am. Highly contagious and quite painful, though for most species not fatal, with an incubation period of seven-to-ten standard Catraxian days. All new guests are required to be cleared through quarantine before being able to mix with the other guests. Standard procedure. It's in the brochure."
"What?!" the Doctor spluttered again.
"For most species not fatal?" Rose addressed the computer directly through her jumper. "Which ones is it fatal to?"
"Our insurance policy requires that all species for whom the pox is fatal be turned away at the door. I am also required to inform you that should you contract any illness during your stay at the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa, the proprietors are not libel for any pain, suffering or permanent disfigurement that may result."
"Can we go now, Doctor?" Rose jabbed him on the arm with her free hand.
"I'm sorry," said the computer. "All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration. Stand by for the hospitality droid. Please enjoy your stay at the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa."
"Oh, well," began the Doctor, regaining his composure, "I'll just have a look around then while we're waiting." He winked at Rose and tapped the pocket of his coat where he kept his sonic screwdriver. "Stay close," he said sotto voce.
When they turned around, however, they found themselves almost running smack in to what they presumed was the hospitality droid.
It fairly towered over both of them, a plastic-looking column with several appendages coming off of it, each with a different implement at the end, hovering a few inches off of the floor.
"Welcome to the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa," it said, the voice coming directly out of the center, as it had no discernible face or head. "Scans reveal that you are in possession of a sonic device." A drawer slid open on the droid, slightly below eye-level . "Sonic devices are not permitted in quarantine. Please place the device in the receptacle. It will be returned to you at the end of your stay."
"I'm sorry," said the Doctor cheerily, "there's been a bit of a misunderstanding. We were just leaving."
The droid hovered a few more inches towards them, uncomfortably close now. "All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration. Please place the device in the receptacle."
"But..." stammered Rose. "But his species is unknown, what if the pox is fatal to him, eh? He shouldn't have even been let in. What kind of place are you running here?" She put on the haughty voice she knew so well from her time as a clerk at Henrick's. "The customer is always right!"
"All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration. Please place the device in the receptacle." One of the droid's appendages, with a particularly sharp and nasty looking implement at the end began to twitch and slowly snake towards Rose. "Hotel policy gives all hospitality droids the authority to enforce quarantine."
"Alright, alright!" The Doctor put his hands up. "Alright. Here, take it. Just...take good care of it. If there's one scratch on it--well, one scratch that wasn't already on it--when I get it back...." He reached in to his coat pocket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver and placed it in the tray.
The tray retracted with a metallic whir and a piece of paper shot out of a slot above it. "Thank you," said the droid. "Please take your receipt."
The Doctor yanked the receipt out of the slot with so much force it almost ripped in half.
"Follow me," said the droid and it began to trundle off towards a bank of lifts at the far end of the lobby.
"One...," muttered the Doctor, "two....three!"
He and Rose took off at a run towards the doors they had come in by. "What about your screwdriver?" shouted Rose as they ran, dodging settees and statuary, her rucksack bouncing up and down on her back.
"I'll make another one!"
Rose looked at the fast approaching doors and began to wonder, what if they didn't open automatically as they had when they entered? The Doctor was slightly ahead of her and speeding up towards them while she began to question the wisdom of their actions.
"Doctor!"
The voice near the doors crackled to life. "Alert. Alert. All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration. Alert. Alert."
"Doctor!" Rose shouted again.
"What?" He looked back at her as he continued to run at top speed towards the doors. That's when he saw the army of hospitality droids hovering their way into the lobby.
"The doors! Slow down!"
Rose could barely look as the Doctor smacked headlong in to the glass doors and fell backwards. She came to a skittering halt right behind where he lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and put her hands on her hips. "Honestly," she said, "so clever and yet so stupid. Are you alright?"
He began to sit up, sniffing. "I'll be fine, once my bones knit." He ran a hand through his hair and massaged his neck a little.
"Your bones...sorry, what?"
"It's an expression, Rose. I'm fine."
The sound of a couple dozen hovering hospitality droids grew louder as the Doctor slowly stood and brushed himself off.
"Okay" he said, putting his hands in the air. Rose did the same, and the droids encircled them both. "Never let it be said that I don't know when I've been beaten."
"All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration," the droids all intoned at once, wiggling their various appendages. They all looked and sounded identical, but Rose supposed the one that now came forward was the original that had first attempted to detain them. "Please follow me to your isolation chambers," it chirped brightly.
The Doctor looked not so much angry (an emotion he tended to reserve for sentient life forms) as supremely annoyed. She took his hand as they walked forlornly to the lifts, behind the humming droid and watched carefully by a whole school of other droids in the lobby.
"So, how long is a Catraxian standard day?" she asked.
Even the opportunity show off by doing complicated maths in his head didn't raise the Doctor from his dismal mood. "Ten point three five naught eight six four Earth standard hours."
"Ten hours? So that makes our ten day quarantine, what--"
"One hundred and three point five naught eight six four hours, or four point three one two eight six days. Blimey," he moaned.
"Four days? That all? Doesn't sound so bad. 'S like a long weekend, isn't it?"
The Doctor heaved a sigh as they entered the lift. The perception filter must have ended at the lift doors, as it was the same stark clinical white as the lobby had been prior to its shift to conform to the expectations of the guests' species.
"You were prepared to punch a Doctor-shaped hole in the doors over four days? Is there something you're not telling me about this?"
"What? No. It's exactly what is says on the tin."
Rose squinted and tried to read his expression, looking for any signs of dissembling. "They don't like, probe you or anything do they?"
"No probing, far as I know. That's really more of a Nadolite thing. They do love a bit of probing, the Nadolites. Shame they have such a fondness for Earth caravan parks." He visibly shuddered.
"Well, we'll be together though, right?"
The lift doors opened and the droid hovered out ahead of them and turned left down a hallway lined with windowless doors on either side. Slots that Rose thought looked a lot like USB ports were embedded in to the wall next to every door, but other than that there were no identifying features. The droid stopped in front of one door and spoke: "Guest: one. Species: human." It slid an appendage in to the port next to the door and it opened. "Please enter. Enjoy your stay at the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa."
Rose entered and turned around to beckon the reluctant Doctor inside, to find the door already sliding shut with just the Doctor's wide puppy-dog eyes looking back at her for a split second before it shut all the way.
"Isolation chamber," sighed Rose. "Exactly what it says on the tin."
(To Chapter 2)
CHARACTERS: Ten/Rose, nothing but Ten/Rose
RATING: Teen (Adultish for later chapters)
SPOILERS: Up to Idiots Lantern, but very nonspecifically
SUMMARY: You want talky, angsty, witty-banter Ten? You've got him. Now with 30% more romance and UST!
DISCLAIMER: Insert humorous note about how I don't own the characters nor make any money off them right here.
BETA: The lovely and talented jaradel, but at the end of the day any errors and all silliness are entirely my fault.
A/N: A sequel to Flowers on Air. Not vital to have read that, but references are made to the action and themes of that story.
This Chapter: The Doctor's promised trip to a leisure planet goes somewhat awry (of course).
"There. Lovely. Two rooms at the Grand Catraxian Hotel on Venus." The Doctor pointed at the console display screen. "Whad'ya say? Fancy a little holiday?"
Rose, perched on the jump seat, was still stuck several clauses back. "There's a...a luxury hotel on the planet Venus?"
The Doctor squinted one eye at her. "No, of course not, don't be daft. The surface temperature of Venus is four hundred and fifty degrees." He paused, furrowing his brow in thought. "Mind you, that wasn't the worst holiday I ever had. That would have been a very ill-conceived camping trip to the great wilderness of Hylidae. It rains one thousand eight hundred and twenty five days a year there. Though the company wasn't bad--"
"Doctor?"
"What?"
Rose lifted an eyebrow. "You were saying? About Venus?"
"Oh yes, the eighth moon of Catraxus: Venus. Where lies the Grand Catraxian Hotel, home of the universally famous anti-gravity spa. And the chefs, they're all Fringillas--Fringillae? Fringillii? They're mildly empathic, can tell what your favorite food is before you even say it. And there's windsurfing, where you literally surf on the actual wind! It's brilliant! And the hot springs have these tiny little fish in them that eat away all your dead skin and you come out looking like the day you were born. Well, not literally. And, er, it's not like I've ever, you know...I wouldn't need to...I mean, it's not really a bloke thing, is it? But if I were to do it, just, you know, for talking's sake, I would make sure I wore a bathing suit. Maybe two. Just a hunch I'm having." He coughed and rubbed the back of his head but then was off again. "Oh! And if you fancy a little wagering, there's that, though I've got rubbish luck and I don't know how to play any of the games anyway. Besides, last time we made a bet it worked out rather poorly. Anyway. How about it? Yeah?" The Doctor continued to indicate the picture on the display screen hopefully.
Rose took a few more seconds to catch up on all of the information and finally smiled warmly and nodded. "It sounds very nice. Can't wait."
His face lit up like a hundred watt bulb.
"Don't have to!" He jabbed a finger in the air triumphantly. "We're already there!"
Ah, bless, thought Rose, standing from the bench. "Well then, I'll just pack a bag, shall I? Don't go wandering off."
She looked towards the doors--the doors that the Doctor was already inching towards casually. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.
Rose called from the hallway to her quarters, "I know you. You'll go wandering off and get in to some sort of trouble and I'll have to come rescue you and then we'll have to do a whole bunch of running...."
She returned to the console room with a big red rucksack on her back, where she found the Doctor already in his coat and standing by the doors. When he noticed her enter, he immediately began to inspect a bit of coral quite studiously, as if he'd been doing that the whole time she was gone. She rolled her eyes as he opened the doors and invited her to step through.
The natural light on Venus, the eighth moon of the planet Catraxus, was a soft silver, almost bluish. The TARDIS was parked on the far side of a wide, and completely empty, promenade, across which was the immense facade of the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa. It took up their entire field of vision and looked to be nearly 100 stories tall and several city blocks in length. Clearly the hotel was not really meant to be viewed from the outside. Either that or the aesthetic of the native Catraxians was quite utilitarian. Rose looked up and down the promenade and noted that it was in all directions totally devoid of people, of any species.
The Doctor stuck his hand out and and she took it, but then he pulled back suddenly. Rose felt her face redden slightly as she had a split-second jolt of fear that this was going to be the moment in which he decided that the massive amount of hand-holding in their relationship--second only to the massive amount of running for their lives and hugging--was no longer appropriate. When she turned to look at him, however, he was offering his arm instead.
"If we're going to cross the promenade, don't you think we should, y'know, promenade?" He gave a little half-smile.
Rose breathed again and relaxed, taking his arm. "Oh indubitably sir. Pip pip and all that."
The air was a little on the chilly side and there seemed to be a tang in it that might be saltwater, but then again might also be some alien chemical compound hitherto unknown. The hotel was even more gargantuan once they were right up against it, in front of the sliding glass doors. Rose looked straight up and couldn't even see the top, just the pale lavender sky (cloudless) beyond.
Stepping in to the lobby, Rose made no effort to suppress a gasp. It was colossal in scale, with everything a stark, even clinical, white. It was also, like the promenade, completely empty. As they entered however, a polite computerized voice rang out from over their heads.
"New Guests: Two. Species: Human. Species: Unknown."
Rose smacked the Doctor's arm conspiratorially at the "unknown" species moniker. "They broke the mold, absolutely," he said.
"Standby," the computer voice said again.
Rose and the Doctor stood by. The air in front of them seemed to turn to liquid or thick glass for a number of seconds but just as Rose was about to reach out and touch it, it dissolved again and they now faced not a stark white hall but a sumptuous hotel lobby right out of the Gilded Age. The walls were plush with textured wall-papers in maroons and golds, the Persian carpets soft under their feet as if they were still brand new, velvet curtains hung here and there, with settees, chaise lounges and statuary placed in tasteful groupings.
Rose knew she didn't even have to ask, and just looked at the Doctor quizzically.
"Perception filter," he said matter-of-factly.
"Please check in at hospitality station eleven," said the voice.
The Doctor craned his neck and they located a bank of deeply stained wooden counters fitted with shining brass fixtures in the distance. "That looks to be a likely candidate for hospitality station eleven," he chirped and strode off. Rose took her time in following, wanting to appreciate the ambiance and scale of the place. It didn't really strike her as odd until a bit later that it had clearly been built to accommodate a huge number of people, yet it was utterly empty. She sidled up to where the Doctor was standing, at a counter facing a computer screen from which a voice emanated.
"Yes, that's it, two rooms reserved. Luxury suites." He winked at Rose. If she hadn't known better, she'd think he was trying to impress her. As it was, she knew he was trying to impress her.
"Very good, sir," said the computer, the display just a series of wavy lines and circles. "The hospitality droid will escort you to your isolation chambers for quarantine."
The Doctor clearly had a thank you on his lips, but at this information bit it off before it could get out. "What?" he said instead.
Rose shuffled closer to the Doctor, thinking this business was sounding like it might be one of those cases where she was whisked off somewhere without him suddenly. And then he'd have to rescue her, and then there'd be the running, and then the hugging.
"You've arrived during the biennial outbreak of spinal pox. All guests arriving at this time must spend 10 days in quarantine for their own safety, in one of our isolation chambers. It's all in the brochure, sir."
"What?!" the Doctor said again, slightly more panicked. Rose was growing more unimpressed by the moment.
"Spinal pox? Doctor? What's that?" Rose pulled her jumper up over her mouth and nose and took her hand off the counter where it had been resting, wiping it on her jeans.
The computer answered, "It's in the brochure, ma'am. Highly contagious and quite painful, though for most species not fatal, with an incubation period of seven-to-ten standard Catraxian days. All new guests are required to be cleared through quarantine before being able to mix with the other guests. Standard procedure. It's in the brochure."
"What?!" the Doctor spluttered again.
"For most species not fatal?" Rose addressed the computer directly through her jumper. "Which ones is it fatal to?"
"Our insurance policy requires that all species for whom the pox is fatal be turned away at the door. I am also required to inform you that should you contract any illness during your stay at the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa, the proprietors are not libel for any pain, suffering or permanent disfigurement that may result."
"Can we go now, Doctor?" Rose jabbed him on the arm with her free hand.
"I'm sorry," said the computer. "All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration. Stand by for the hospitality droid. Please enjoy your stay at the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa."
"Oh, well," began the Doctor, regaining his composure, "I'll just have a look around then while we're waiting." He winked at Rose and tapped the pocket of his coat where he kept his sonic screwdriver. "Stay close," he said sotto voce.
When they turned around, however, they found themselves almost running smack in to what they presumed was the hospitality droid.
It fairly towered over both of them, a plastic-looking column with several appendages coming off of it, each with a different implement at the end, hovering a few inches off of the floor.
"Welcome to the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa," it said, the voice coming directly out of the center, as it had no discernible face or head. "Scans reveal that you are in possession of a sonic device." A drawer slid open on the droid, slightly below eye-level . "Sonic devices are not permitted in quarantine. Please place the device in the receptacle. It will be returned to you at the end of your stay."
"I'm sorry," said the Doctor cheerily, "there's been a bit of a misunderstanding. We were just leaving."
The droid hovered a few more inches towards them, uncomfortably close now. "All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration. Please place the device in the receptacle."
"But..." stammered Rose. "But his species is unknown, what if the pox is fatal to him, eh? He shouldn't have even been let in. What kind of place are you running here?" She put on the haughty voice she knew so well from her time as a clerk at Henrick's. "The customer is always right!"
"All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration. Please place the device in the receptacle." One of the droid's appendages, with a particularly sharp and nasty looking implement at the end began to twitch and slowly snake towards Rose. "Hotel policy gives all hospitality droids the authority to enforce quarantine."
"Alright, alright!" The Doctor put his hands up. "Alright. Here, take it. Just...take good care of it. If there's one scratch on it--well, one scratch that wasn't already on it--when I get it back...." He reached in to his coat pocket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver and placed it in the tray.
The tray retracted with a metallic whir and a piece of paper shot out of a slot above it. "Thank you," said the droid. "Please take your receipt."
The Doctor yanked the receipt out of the slot with so much force it almost ripped in half.
"Follow me," said the droid and it began to trundle off towards a bank of lifts at the far end of the lobby.
"One...," muttered the Doctor, "two....three!"
He and Rose took off at a run towards the doors they had come in by. "What about your screwdriver?" shouted Rose as they ran, dodging settees and statuary, her rucksack bouncing up and down on her back.
"I'll make another one!"
Rose looked at the fast approaching doors and began to wonder, what if they didn't open automatically as they had when they entered? The Doctor was slightly ahead of her and speeding up towards them while she began to question the wisdom of their actions.
"Doctor!"
The voice near the doors crackled to life. "Alert. Alert. All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration. Alert. Alert."
"Doctor!" Rose shouted again.
"What?" He looked back at her as he continued to run at top speed towards the doors. That's when he saw the army of hospitality droids hovering their way into the lobby.
"The doors! Slow down!"
Rose could barely look as the Doctor smacked headlong in to the glass doors and fell backwards. She came to a skittering halt right behind where he lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and put her hands on her hips. "Honestly," she said, "so clever and yet so stupid. Are you alright?"
He began to sit up, sniffing. "I'll be fine, once my bones knit." He ran a hand through his hair and massaged his neck a little.
"Your bones...sorry, what?"
"It's an expression, Rose. I'm fine."
The sound of a couple dozen hovering hospitality droids grew louder as the Doctor slowly stood and brushed himself off.
"Okay" he said, putting his hands in the air. Rose did the same, and the droids encircled them both. "Never let it be said that I don't know when I've been beaten."
"All guests who have entered hotel grounds are required to be quarantined for the full duration," the droids all intoned at once, wiggling their various appendages. They all looked and sounded identical, but Rose supposed the one that now came forward was the original that had first attempted to detain them. "Please follow me to your isolation chambers," it chirped brightly.
The Doctor looked not so much angry (an emotion he tended to reserve for sentient life forms) as supremely annoyed. She took his hand as they walked forlornly to the lifts, behind the humming droid and watched carefully by a whole school of other droids in the lobby.
"So, how long is a Catraxian standard day?" she asked.
Even the opportunity show off by doing complicated maths in his head didn't raise the Doctor from his dismal mood. "Ten point three five naught eight six four Earth standard hours."
"Ten hours? So that makes our ten day quarantine, what--"
"One hundred and three point five naught eight six four hours, or four point three one two eight six days. Blimey," he moaned.
"Four days? That all? Doesn't sound so bad. 'S like a long weekend, isn't it?"
The Doctor heaved a sigh as they entered the lift. The perception filter must have ended at the lift doors, as it was the same stark clinical white as the lobby had been prior to its shift to conform to the expectations of the guests' species.
"You were prepared to punch a Doctor-shaped hole in the doors over four days? Is there something you're not telling me about this?"
"What? No. It's exactly what is says on the tin."
Rose squinted and tried to read his expression, looking for any signs of dissembling. "They don't like, probe you or anything do they?"
"No probing, far as I know. That's really more of a Nadolite thing. They do love a bit of probing, the Nadolites. Shame they have such a fondness for Earth caravan parks." He visibly shuddered.
"Well, we'll be together though, right?"
The lift doors opened and the droid hovered out ahead of them and turned left down a hallway lined with windowless doors on either side. Slots that Rose thought looked a lot like USB ports were embedded in to the wall next to every door, but other than that there were no identifying features. The droid stopped in front of one door and spoke: "Guest: one. Species: human." It slid an appendage in to the port next to the door and it opened. "Please enter. Enjoy your stay at the Grand Catraxian Hotel and Anti-Gravity Spa."
Rose entered and turned around to beckon the reluctant Doctor inside, to find the door already sliding shut with just the Doctor's wide puppy-dog eyes looking back at her for a split second before it shut all the way.
"Isolation chamber," sighed Rose. "Exactly what it says on the tin."
(To Chapter 2)