1x15: When in Rome... (3/4)
Title: When In Rome...
Author: spikewriter
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: The Doctor and Rose find themselves on a bit of a Roman holiday, but quickly discover that not everything is la dolce vita among the nightclub set
Author's notes: My thanks to my husband for the beta work (even if he rolled his eyes a few times) and to shinyopals and the Julies for Brit-picking and putting up with my hectic schedule
Episode 15 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following Terror in the Deep.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Virtual Series Masterlist
Rose couldn't help blinking in surprise. How had they been spotted by a Torchwood agent? They had been relatively discreet -- for them -- and there really wasn’t anything they’d done to necessarily mark them out as different. The only extraordinary thing witnessed by anyone was the Doctor coming to the aid of the man who’d started screaming last night in the club, and even that could be explained away as being a Good Samaritan.
Except...the Doctor had used the sonic screwdriver and a Torchwood operative would instantly recognize the tool as unique even if he didn’t understand what it was. Not surprising under the circumstances that he’d make contact with them.
Wait a minute. Had he just offered up one of the classic contact code phrases and demanded to know why they were on a mission for Torchwood before receiving conformation they were indeed part of the organization? Didn’t he stop to think that maybe they might be, oh, aliens?
The Doctor had put on his best "being nice to people who might be hostile to us" smile. "I'm afraid I don't have any idea what you're talking about," he said cheerfully. "The wife and I are here on a bit of a holiday."
As the Doctor babbled on about sightseeing and tour packages and how hard it was to get a decent glass of beer, Rose considered the man standing before their table a bit more closely. Oh, it couldn’t be. He was years younger than when she’d last seen him, but there was no mistaking the dreadful cologne he always wore. That was what she’d smelled last night when he’d brushed past her, even if she hadn’t placed it then. That meant he’d been following them and probably heard their conversation and the Doctor’s reference to Torchwood.
Derricott - because now that she’d recognized him, there was no mistaking his face - was glaring at the Doctor as if he felt he was on the receiving end of a very bad joke. “I don’t appreciate London deciding they can simply send anyone down here without so much as a cable,” he complained, seizing the moment when the Doctor actually had to pause for breath, “but they always expect those of us out in the wilds to perform miracles without the least bit of consideration.”
The words were said with no sense of irony at all and Rose was most definitely not going to comment on her future knowledge. Wasn’t that she knew it was best not to let people know what lay in store for them; there was no way she was going to get into the argument pointing out Thomas Derricott was now and always would be a pompous ass would provoke. She did, however, need to rescue the Doctor, who was looking wide-eyed and innocent, which was always bad news. “Condition Oliphant,” she said. “Wasn’t time to let you know before we arrived. We really were on holiday when we got the message.”
She hoped the code word was correct; Torchwood had used it at some point around this time and Rose only remembered the phrase because she’d laughed herself silly when she first heard it. If she remembered correctly, it’d been at the retirement party for one of the last fossils from the old regime Pete had needed to get rid of. The same one where Derricott had decried the rise of nepotism within Torchwood while staring straight at Rose.
Somehow, she didn’t think it was memories of the Doctor almost getting himself executed in the Forum that were going to be a problem on this trip.
It was a thought only further reinforced by the way Derricott turned to look at her. “Excuse me?” he asked, his words dripping with a mixture of contempt and disbelief.
“I believe that’s the proper code phrase,” she said, letting herself fall into the manner she’d learned to use when dealing with local law enforcement agencies that didn’t welcome Torchwood’s presence. "And I'm sorry if the home office didn't let you know we were arriving; we were only just given the brief ourselves. As the Doctor said, we were on holiday in Florence, so we were the closest team available." She extended her hand. “Rose Tyler, and this is my partner, the Doctor.”
Derricott stared at her for a long moment while Rose held her breath and tried not to look as if that was what she was doing. If that wasn't the code word, it was possible she'd just made the situation worse. The Doctor, thankfully, had taken the hint and fallen silently, waiting with that sometimes infuriatingly calm air of his. Now, though, it struck the perfect note of a highly trained team here to do business. With luck, Derricott would get the hint and let them get on with things without interference.
He looked from her to the Doctor and back again, then took her hand in a manner that didn’t allow for a decent handshake. "Thomas Derricott, Logistics.” Social niceties kowtowed to, he turned his attention back to the Doctor. “Naturally, my office's resources are at your disposal, such as they are. Sadly, we are somewhat limited."
Rose wondered why she should have expected any better from Derricott's younger self as the Doctor lifted a bit of an eyebrow. “Grateful, but we’re rather self-contained, so we shouldn’t be needing any help.”
“Surprised they sent a married team,” Derricott said as he took the empty seat at the table without an invitation, his eyes flicking toward the rings on Rose and the Doctor’s left hand. “Didn’t think they let married couples work together -- and that most of you field agent Johnnies had the sense not to tie yourself down. So, what’s the brief?”
The Doctor shrugged, ignoring Derricott’s little jibe. “The usual; strange stuff happening, need to investigate.”
“Well, I haven’t seen anything strange myself -- at least, not strange for Rome.”
“So you were just out enjoying yourself at Club Moreli last night?” Rose asked. It was a leap in logic, but she couldn’t think of any other reason why he might have been following them. Besides, if she were wrong, he’d be more than happy to tell her.
The look he gave her made it clear if her partner wasn’t sitting right there, he wouldn’t have bothered giving her an answer. “Those sorts of establishments aren’t my usual haunts, but I've been keeping an eye on the daughter of an old family friend who's spending a term here in Rome. Bartleby Phipps, works at the Ministry of Trade. My older brother was at Winchester with him, so when he dropped me a line, naturally I agreed to help. Too many men around who'd take advantage of a young lady in a heartbeat. Don't want to have to rescue them from the Big Bad Wolf, eh?"
His tone implied he was certain the Doctor had been forced to do some rescuing on more than one occasion. The Doctor twitched slightly, though whether from Derricott's overt sexism or the invocation of that particular phrase, she couldn't tell. "So you're going to clubs just to make certain she's not doing anything wrong," Rose said. "You haven't seen anything strange at all."
“Oh, you mean the git who collapsed on the floor that your partner helped?” Derricott shrugged. “Probably a side effect of something he took or drank. Possibly too many of those damn cocktails they’re so fond of. There’s a reason Balmy’s worried about the crowd Evelyn’s running with.” He gave them both a suspicious look. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the case you’re working on, does it?”
The Doctor and Rose quickly denied any possible connection, that they’d just been enjoying an evening out themselves. Even if she was under the influence of some alien concoction, the last thing poor Evelyn needed was more interference from her unasked for watchdog. "We are, however, meeting someone who is a potential lead very shortly," the Doctor said, "and it's probably best if you weren't spotted with us while we're talking to him. After all, wouldn't want to put your own cover in jeopardy."
He offered up the excuse with the most pleasant of smiles, but Derricott didn't look as if he believed him completely. "So you're certain there's nothing you need from my office in the way of support?"
"Absolutely nothing -- though if we do, you'll be the first to know."
It was a dismissal, plain and simple, and while Derricott clearly didn't like it, he didn't argue the point, rising to stiffly bidding them good afternoon. "If that's the type of folks who filled the administrative ranks back in the other universe, " the Doctor said once Derricott had departed, "I'm starting to understand how someone like Yvonne Hartman eventually ended up in charge. He's never done any fieldwork, has he? And when did Torchwood have an office in Rome? I didn't think Europe was part of their remit."
"It isn't. From what I understand, he had -- or has, I suppose -- an office, a typewriter and a locally hired secretary. If any Torchwood agents show up in the area, he's supposed to find them a place to sleep, things like that. It's not a job with future."
"Ah. That accounts for the bitterness. We'd better solve our mystery and get out of town before he manages to get word from London that there aren't any married agents in the area, on holiday or otherwise."
"Confirmation, you mean; I don't think he bought much of our story. By the way, all he did was get another table. He’s still watching us.”
Derricott was indeed glaring at them from a table somewhat removed from their location, but still in their line of sight. Or was he glaring at the table filled with folks Rose recognized from the club last night? Several of the girls in the group could easily be Evelyn Phipps.
She was about to offer that idea when the Doctor drew her attention in another direction. “Look who’s here as well; our friends from the club. I think now would be a good time to have a little chat with them.”
With that, he was up and away from the table - just as Sebastian approached. “So sorry,” the Doctor said cheerfully. “Meet us at Moreli’s tonight. We’ll buy you a bottle of wine.”
Sebastian simply stood gaping as Rose smiled at him in passing. Poor fellow; she couldn’t help thinking this probably happened to him a lot. Then, she put him from her mind and focused on their quarry, knowing that this time the Doctor wasn’t going to let them escape. The men saw them coming, but there was no easy way to get away except to bolt without paying their bill and causing a scene. Even so, they looked like they were considering it as the Doctor settled into an empty chair. “Good afternoon. So sorry we’re late,” he said cheerfully . “Now that we’re here, though, time for a little chat.”
The two men looked at one another, then back to the Doctor, their faces the perfect picture of innocence. “I’m sorry, but do we know you?”
“I’m the Doctor and this is Rose Tyler. No, we haven’t been formally introduced. Still, I think we have a shared interest in what’s making people behave as we saw at Club Moreli.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then why did you run when you saw me last night?”
“How did we know you weren’t about to do us bodily harm?” the second of the two men asked.
“A reasonable question,” Rose said, taking the other empty chair. “But you also saw what happened in the club and it upset you.”’
“It should have upset anyone who saw it; a young man falling to the ground screaming.”
“But it didn’t. Most of the club sat perfectly still as if nothing else was happening. Except you two.” The Doctor leaned forward. “Why?”
“You reacted.”
“We’re the ones asking the questions. Now, why don’t you start explaining or we’ll let the Torchwood agent over there know that you’re a couple of aliens.”
Rose seriously doubted he had any intention of bringing Derricott into this, but threat had the desired effect. Even so, they made one last bluff. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re tourists. I’m John Smith and this is my friend, James Smith. We’re in Rome on holiday.”
“Which is why you’re scribbling in your notebook in a language not known on Earth and you’ve chosen rather obvious non de plumes. Trust me; I know exactly how obvious they are. Now, shall we continue this conversation here or go somewhere more private where we can all discuss this reasonably without involving the authorities?”
The two men sat silently, then one stared turned to the other. “Safir...”
“Don’t ‘Safir’ me, Keenon. You’re the one who got us into this.” The other man sighed, looking for all the world like a trapped animal. “Yes, Doctor, we should go somewhere more private. But I’m afraid we might not know anything more than you.”
# # #
Safir and Keenon’s base camp was above the antique store in the same dead end the Doctor had pursued them to the night before. “We locked the door and hid on the stairs until we were certain you had left,” Safir admitted. “Yes, we know there are authorities who hunt aliens on Earth; we assumed you were with them.”
“You would have looked less guilty if you hadn’t run,” Rose pointed out as they climbed the stairs to the upper levels.
Safir turned to look down at her. “And you still would have had questions for us that we didn’t want to answer. Tell me; what would you have done in our shoes?”
“Oh, stayed and talked,” the Doctor said cheerfully. “I’ve been told I excel in that.”
Now Rose turned to give him a look. “Sometimes it’s better if you take off and run - but, yeah, you would have stayed.”
He raised an eyebrow in mock outrage. “Are you questioning my judgement?”
She considered this for a moment and then responded, “Yeah” -- before sticking her tongue out at him.
They laughed as they reached the landing, only to find Keenon and Safir studying them. “Fascinating,” Keenon said. “Is this how mated human couples behave when they’re arguing? Maybe that should be my next study; not the mating rituals, but the behavior of those who have already chosen a partner.”
“That’s assuming either one of us have any career left when we’ve finished with this,” Safir shot back. “Can we settle this problem first?”
“Are you saying you’re here for an academic study?” the Doctor asked.
Keenon drew himself up a little proudly. “Keenon Trasfil, Xeno Anthropology, University of Klinairisch. I’ve published quite a few pieces on human social interaction and achieved a modest reputation.”
Safir snorted. “You’ve made yourself fat and rich with sensational books while the rest of us are struggling on the tenure track. Yes, we’re an academic expedition, Doctor. We have about fifteen graduate students with us attempting to study human mating rituals - a study which has not been going well, I’d like to point out. We’re just as concerned as you are. This behavior isn’t normal.”
“Thank god someone thinks so,” Rose said. “Everyone else seems desperate to pretend it doesn’t exist, that it’s some type of game.”
“Because it disturbs the social order,” Keenon said. “If the young people act crazy, everyone can shrug and say it’s the exuberance of youth. The club owners are happy because their establishments will be filled with those who are living as if they’ll always be young, and those who wish to recapture their youth. But when people act like these young ones are, it makes the older ones feel uncomfortable and foolish, so they stay away.”
Keenon was clearly warming to his subject and Safir rolled his eyes as he ushered them into the main room of the flat. “Did you not notice,” Keenon continued, “that virtually everyone at the Club Moreli was very young? It’s been that way since this started a week ago. The middle-aged have found elsewhere to go and while there are still steady patrons, they don’t spend as much money as they used to. Luigi is apparently very worried about how he’s going to meet his bills if this keeps up.”
“How do you know all this?” Rose asked.
“Oh, two of my students have taken jobs at Moreli’s, all part of our program of deep immersion. We try to place them in situations where they can truly experience how the locals live their lives. Naturally, they’ve heard gossip from the staff. Apparently some have left for greener pastures.”
“Unusual technique,” the Doctor said. “How long have they been working there?”
“Week and a half, isn’t it, Safir? You’ve been keeping records of that.”
“Closer to two. Anwyrn is a waiter and Ditol is the bartender.”
“Well, if Anwyrn’s the waiter, he should get a failing grade on his performance. He was terrible last night. Luigi told him to bring us a bottle of wine and he brought us cocktails.”
Keenon waved his hand dismissively. “They try to push the cocktail on everyone. Ditol’s very proud of his concoction. But back to the matter at hand. We’d love to help you solve this mystery - and we certainly don’t want trouble with the authorities - but I’m at a loss as to what information we can provide. We spent the first two weeks settling in, making certain we blended with the locals, and by the time we’d identified the subjects, this had happened. I have to tell you, it’s playing havoc with the research.”
“So they’ve been like this the whole time you’ve been watching them?”
Keenon nodded. “Exactly like this - except...” He glanced at Safir. “Things started happening the last couple of days. There was a girl who suddenly kissed a boy, then they both acted as if nothing happened, and you saw what happened last night. Yes, we could try to find another subject group, but I will confess to a bit of concern over this behavior. If that man had had a fit like that while driving, I don’t like to think what could happen.”
Given Roman traffic, the result could be disastrous. “Then help us. There has to be something - why did you pick these subjects?”
“Convenience,” Keenon confessed. “They were of the right socio-economic status and they seem to focus around the Club Moreli, which meant we had an in because of Anwyrn and Ditol. The other students are working in shops, mostly, so they were the only two who were somewhere both sexes gathered for social interaction. They tried several places before they found this one, too, but most of the club owners didn’t think their skills were up to it. I suppose Luigi hired them because they were willing to work very cheaply.”
“We do provide the basics for the students,” Safir said. “But any extra expenses are on their own. The jobs provide not only deep immersion, but spending money in the local currency.”
“But why a nightclub?” the Doctor asked. “Why of all the places - Rose! The Campari!”
“Excuse me?” Rose asked.
“You said someone might have spiked the Campari. I need to analyze one of those cocktails. Brilliant! It’s so simple that it’s brilliant.”
“Wait a minute,” Keenon protested. “You’re suggesting one of my students is responsible for this. You can’t possibly believe -”
“But I can; it’s in the cocktails. I don’t know what he put in or why, but I need to analyze one of them. It’s something alien, something that affects humans in a way they probably didn’t intend - and it’s students. Rose, you weren’t wrong when you said they were a possibility.”
She was grinning at him. “Totally different circumstances, but I’ll take the compliment.”
“I can’t believe this,” Safir said. “You come in here, you threaten to turn us over to the authorities and then you accuse one of my students doing something potentially harmful to the locals. Who the hell are you?”
There was something in Safir’s voice that made the Doctor stop and focus on him. “You suspected this, didn’t you?”
Everyone had turned to look at Safir. “If you know something,” Keenon said, “maybe it’s best if you tell us. We can do something to help him.”
“Oh, now you’re worried about Ditol,” Safir said. “This whole time, you’ve been worrying about your precious study and what it would mean to you. You didn’t give a damn about the students; they were just there to do your bidding because you can’t be bothered to lift a finger.” He spun toward the Doctor. “Well, I’m not letting you do anything to him. I don’t care if it ruins Keenon’s career, but maybe it’s time we all just pack our bags and go home.”
“We have to fix this,” the Doctor said quietly. “You know we do. Doesn’t have to involve the authorities, but we have to -”
He started to take a step forward, but stopped as a gun appeared in Safir’s hand.
Author: spikewriter
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: The Doctor and Rose find themselves on a bit of a Roman holiday, but quickly discover that not everything is la dolce vita among the nightclub set
Author's notes: My thanks to my husband for the beta work (even if he rolled his eyes a few times) and to shinyopals and the Julies for Brit-picking and putting up with my hectic schedule
Episode 15 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following Terror in the Deep.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Virtual Series Masterlist
Rose couldn't help blinking in surprise. How had they been spotted by a Torchwood agent? They had been relatively discreet -- for them -- and there really wasn’t anything they’d done to necessarily mark them out as different. The only extraordinary thing witnessed by anyone was the Doctor coming to the aid of the man who’d started screaming last night in the club, and even that could be explained away as being a Good Samaritan.
Except...the Doctor had used the sonic screwdriver and a Torchwood operative would instantly recognize the tool as unique even if he didn’t understand what it was. Not surprising under the circumstances that he’d make contact with them.
Wait a minute. Had he just offered up one of the classic contact code phrases and demanded to know why they were on a mission for Torchwood before receiving conformation they were indeed part of the organization? Didn’t he stop to think that maybe they might be, oh, aliens?
The Doctor had put on his best "being nice to people who might be hostile to us" smile. "I'm afraid I don't have any idea what you're talking about," he said cheerfully. "The wife and I are here on a bit of a holiday."
As the Doctor babbled on about sightseeing and tour packages and how hard it was to get a decent glass of beer, Rose considered the man standing before their table a bit more closely. Oh, it couldn’t be. He was years younger than when she’d last seen him, but there was no mistaking the dreadful cologne he always wore. That was what she’d smelled last night when he’d brushed past her, even if she hadn’t placed it then. That meant he’d been following them and probably heard their conversation and the Doctor’s reference to Torchwood.
Derricott - because now that she’d recognized him, there was no mistaking his face - was glaring at the Doctor as if he felt he was on the receiving end of a very bad joke. “I don’t appreciate London deciding they can simply send anyone down here without so much as a cable,” he complained, seizing the moment when the Doctor actually had to pause for breath, “but they always expect those of us out in the wilds to perform miracles without the least bit of consideration.”
The words were said with no sense of irony at all and Rose was most definitely not going to comment on her future knowledge. Wasn’t that she knew it was best not to let people know what lay in store for them; there was no way she was going to get into the argument pointing out Thomas Derricott was now and always would be a pompous ass would provoke. She did, however, need to rescue the Doctor, who was looking wide-eyed and innocent, which was always bad news. “Condition Oliphant,” she said. “Wasn’t time to let you know before we arrived. We really were on holiday when we got the message.”
She hoped the code word was correct; Torchwood had used it at some point around this time and Rose only remembered the phrase because she’d laughed herself silly when she first heard it. If she remembered correctly, it’d been at the retirement party for one of the last fossils from the old regime Pete had needed to get rid of. The same one where Derricott had decried the rise of nepotism within Torchwood while staring straight at Rose.
Somehow, she didn’t think it was memories of the Doctor almost getting himself executed in the Forum that were going to be a problem on this trip.
It was a thought only further reinforced by the way Derricott turned to look at her. “Excuse me?” he asked, his words dripping with a mixture of contempt and disbelief.
“I believe that’s the proper code phrase,” she said, letting herself fall into the manner she’d learned to use when dealing with local law enforcement agencies that didn’t welcome Torchwood’s presence. "And I'm sorry if the home office didn't let you know we were arriving; we were only just given the brief ourselves. As the Doctor said, we were on holiday in Florence, so we were the closest team available." She extended her hand. “Rose Tyler, and this is my partner, the Doctor.”
Derricott stared at her for a long moment while Rose held her breath and tried not to look as if that was what she was doing. If that wasn't the code word, it was possible she'd just made the situation worse. The Doctor, thankfully, had taken the hint and fallen silently, waiting with that sometimes infuriatingly calm air of his. Now, though, it struck the perfect note of a highly trained team here to do business. With luck, Derricott would get the hint and let them get on with things without interference.
He looked from her to the Doctor and back again, then took her hand in a manner that didn’t allow for a decent handshake. "Thomas Derricott, Logistics.” Social niceties kowtowed to, he turned his attention back to the Doctor. “Naturally, my office's resources are at your disposal, such as they are. Sadly, we are somewhat limited."
Rose wondered why she should have expected any better from Derricott's younger self as the Doctor lifted a bit of an eyebrow. “Grateful, but we’re rather self-contained, so we shouldn’t be needing any help.”
“Surprised they sent a married team,” Derricott said as he took the empty seat at the table without an invitation, his eyes flicking toward the rings on Rose and the Doctor’s left hand. “Didn’t think they let married couples work together -- and that most of you field agent Johnnies had the sense not to tie yourself down. So, what’s the brief?”
The Doctor shrugged, ignoring Derricott’s little jibe. “The usual; strange stuff happening, need to investigate.”
“Well, I haven’t seen anything strange myself -- at least, not strange for Rome.”
“So you were just out enjoying yourself at Club Moreli last night?” Rose asked. It was a leap in logic, but she couldn’t think of any other reason why he might have been following them. Besides, if she were wrong, he’d be more than happy to tell her.
The look he gave her made it clear if her partner wasn’t sitting right there, he wouldn’t have bothered giving her an answer. “Those sorts of establishments aren’t my usual haunts, but I've been keeping an eye on the daughter of an old family friend who's spending a term here in Rome. Bartleby Phipps, works at the Ministry of Trade. My older brother was at Winchester with him, so when he dropped me a line, naturally I agreed to help. Too many men around who'd take advantage of a young lady in a heartbeat. Don't want to have to rescue them from the Big Bad Wolf, eh?"
His tone implied he was certain the Doctor had been forced to do some rescuing on more than one occasion. The Doctor twitched slightly, though whether from Derricott's overt sexism or the invocation of that particular phrase, she couldn't tell. "So you're going to clubs just to make certain she's not doing anything wrong," Rose said. "You haven't seen anything strange at all."
“Oh, you mean the git who collapsed on the floor that your partner helped?” Derricott shrugged. “Probably a side effect of something he took or drank. Possibly too many of those damn cocktails they’re so fond of. There’s a reason Balmy’s worried about the crowd Evelyn’s running with.” He gave them both a suspicious look. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the case you’re working on, does it?”
The Doctor and Rose quickly denied any possible connection, that they’d just been enjoying an evening out themselves. Even if she was under the influence of some alien concoction, the last thing poor Evelyn needed was more interference from her unasked for watchdog. "We are, however, meeting someone who is a potential lead very shortly," the Doctor said, "and it's probably best if you weren't spotted with us while we're talking to him. After all, wouldn't want to put your own cover in jeopardy."
He offered up the excuse with the most pleasant of smiles, but Derricott didn't look as if he believed him completely. "So you're certain there's nothing you need from my office in the way of support?"
"Absolutely nothing -- though if we do, you'll be the first to know."
It was a dismissal, plain and simple, and while Derricott clearly didn't like it, he didn't argue the point, rising to stiffly bidding them good afternoon. "If that's the type of folks who filled the administrative ranks back in the other universe, " the Doctor said once Derricott had departed, "I'm starting to understand how someone like Yvonne Hartman eventually ended up in charge. He's never done any fieldwork, has he? And when did Torchwood have an office in Rome? I didn't think Europe was part of their remit."
"It isn't. From what I understand, he had -- or has, I suppose -- an office, a typewriter and a locally hired secretary. If any Torchwood agents show up in the area, he's supposed to find them a place to sleep, things like that. It's not a job with future."
"Ah. That accounts for the bitterness. We'd better solve our mystery and get out of town before he manages to get word from London that there aren't any married agents in the area, on holiday or otherwise."
"Confirmation, you mean; I don't think he bought much of our story. By the way, all he did was get another table. He’s still watching us.”
Derricott was indeed glaring at them from a table somewhat removed from their location, but still in their line of sight. Or was he glaring at the table filled with folks Rose recognized from the club last night? Several of the girls in the group could easily be Evelyn Phipps.
She was about to offer that idea when the Doctor drew her attention in another direction. “Look who’s here as well; our friends from the club. I think now would be a good time to have a little chat with them.”
With that, he was up and away from the table - just as Sebastian approached. “So sorry,” the Doctor said cheerfully. “Meet us at Moreli’s tonight. We’ll buy you a bottle of wine.”
Sebastian simply stood gaping as Rose smiled at him in passing. Poor fellow; she couldn’t help thinking this probably happened to him a lot. Then, she put him from her mind and focused on their quarry, knowing that this time the Doctor wasn’t going to let them escape. The men saw them coming, but there was no easy way to get away except to bolt without paying their bill and causing a scene. Even so, they looked like they were considering it as the Doctor settled into an empty chair. “Good afternoon. So sorry we’re late,” he said cheerfully . “Now that we’re here, though, time for a little chat.”
The two men looked at one another, then back to the Doctor, their faces the perfect picture of innocence. “I’m sorry, but do we know you?”
“I’m the Doctor and this is Rose Tyler. No, we haven’t been formally introduced. Still, I think we have a shared interest in what’s making people behave as we saw at Club Moreli.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then why did you run when you saw me last night?”
“How did we know you weren’t about to do us bodily harm?” the second of the two men asked.
“A reasonable question,” Rose said, taking the other empty chair. “But you also saw what happened in the club and it upset you.”’
“It should have upset anyone who saw it; a young man falling to the ground screaming.”
“But it didn’t. Most of the club sat perfectly still as if nothing else was happening. Except you two.” The Doctor leaned forward. “Why?”
“You reacted.”
“We’re the ones asking the questions. Now, why don’t you start explaining or we’ll let the Torchwood agent over there know that you’re a couple of aliens.”
Rose seriously doubted he had any intention of bringing Derricott into this, but threat had the desired effect. Even so, they made one last bluff. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re tourists. I’m John Smith and this is my friend, James Smith. We’re in Rome on holiday.”
“Which is why you’re scribbling in your notebook in a language not known on Earth and you’ve chosen rather obvious non de plumes. Trust me; I know exactly how obvious they are. Now, shall we continue this conversation here or go somewhere more private where we can all discuss this reasonably without involving the authorities?”
The two men sat silently, then one stared turned to the other. “Safir...”
“Don’t ‘Safir’ me, Keenon. You’re the one who got us into this.” The other man sighed, looking for all the world like a trapped animal. “Yes, Doctor, we should go somewhere more private. But I’m afraid we might not know anything more than you.”
# # #
Safir and Keenon’s base camp was above the antique store in the same dead end the Doctor had pursued them to the night before. “We locked the door and hid on the stairs until we were certain you had left,” Safir admitted. “Yes, we know there are authorities who hunt aliens on Earth; we assumed you were with them.”
“You would have looked less guilty if you hadn’t run,” Rose pointed out as they climbed the stairs to the upper levels.
Safir turned to look down at her. “And you still would have had questions for us that we didn’t want to answer. Tell me; what would you have done in our shoes?”
“Oh, stayed and talked,” the Doctor said cheerfully. “I’ve been told I excel in that.”
Now Rose turned to give him a look. “Sometimes it’s better if you take off and run - but, yeah, you would have stayed.”
He raised an eyebrow in mock outrage. “Are you questioning my judgement?”
She considered this for a moment and then responded, “Yeah” -- before sticking her tongue out at him.
They laughed as they reached the landing, only to find Keenon and Safir studying them. “Fascinating,” Keenon said. “Is this how mated human couples behave when they’re arguing? Maybe that should be my next study; not the mating rituals, but the behavior of those who have already chosen a partner.”
“That’s assuming either one of us have any career left when we’ve finished with this,” Safir shot back. “Can we settle this problem first?”
“Are you saying you’re here for an academic study?” the Doctor asked.
Keenon drew himself up a little proudly. “Keenon Trasfil, Xeno Anthropology, University of Klinairisch. I’ve published quite a few pieces on human social interaction and achieved a modest reputation.”
Safir snorted. “You’ve made yourself fat and rich with sensational books while the rest of us are struggling on the tenure track. Yes, we’re an academic expedition, Doctor. We have about fifteen graduate students with us attempting to study human mating rituals - a study which has not been going well, I’d like to point out. We’re just as concerned as you are. This behavior isn’t normal.”
“Thank god someone thinks so,” Rose said. “Everyone else seems desperate to pretend it doesn’t exist, that it’s some type of game.”
“Because it disturbs the social order,” Keenon said. “If the young people act crazy, everyone can shrug and say it’s the exuberance of youth. The club owners are happy because their establishments will be filled with those who are living as if they’ll always be young, and those who wish to recapture their youth. But when people act like these young ones are, it makes the older ones feel uncomfortable and foolish, so they stay away.”
Keenon was clearly warming to his subject and Safir rolled his eyes as he ushered them into the main room of the flat. “Did you not notice,” Keenon continued, “that virtually everyone at the Club Moreli was very young? It’s been that way since this started a week ago. The middle-aged have found elsewhere to go and while there are still steady patrons, they don’t spend as much money as they used to. Luigi is apparently very worried about how he’s going to meet his bills if this keeps up.”
“How do you know all this?” Rose asked.
“Oh, two of my students have taken jobs at Moreli’s, all part of our program of deep immersion. We try to place them in situations where they can truly experience how the locals live their lives. Naturally, they’ve heard gossip from the staff. Apparently some have left for greener pastures.”
“Unusual technique,” the Doctor said. “How long have they been working there?”
“Week and a half, isn’t it, Safir? You’ve been keeping records of that.”
“Closer to two. Anwyrn is a waiter and Ditol is the bartender.”
“Well, if Anwyrn’s the waiter, he should get a failing grade on his performance. He was terrible last night. Luigi told him to bring us a bottle of wine and he brought us cocktails.”
Keenon waved his hand dismissively. “They try to push the cocktail on everyone. Ditol’s very proud of his concoction. But back to the matter at hand. We’d love to help you solve this mystery - and we certainly don’t want trouble with the authorities - but I’m at a loss as to what information we can provide. We spent the first two weeks settling in, making certain we blended with the locals, and by the time we’d identified the subjects, this had happened. I have to tell you, it’s playing havoc with the research.”
“So they’ve been like this the whole time you’ve been watching them?”
Keenon nodded. “Exactly like this - except...” He glanced at Safir. “Things started happening the last couple of days. There was a girl who suddenly kissed a boy, then they both acted as if nothing happened, and you saw what happened last night. Yes, we could try to find another subject group, but I will confess to a bit of concern over this behavior. If that man had had a fit like that while driving, I don’t like to think what could happen.”
Given Roman traffic, the result could be disastrous. “Then help us. There has to be something - why did you pick these subjects?”
“Convenience,” Keenon confessed. “They were of the right socio-economic status and they seem to focus around the Club Moreli, which meant we had an in because of Anwyrn and Ditol. The other students are working in shops, mostly, so they were the only two who were somewhere both sexes gathered for social interaction. They tried several places before they found this one, too, but most of the club owners didn’t think their skills were up to it. I suppose Luigi hired them because they were willing to work very cheaply.”
“We do provide the basics for the students,” Safir said. “But any extra expenses are on their own. The jobs provide not only deep immersion, but spending money in the local currency.”
“But why a nightclub?” the Doctor asked. “Why of all the places - Rose! The Campari!”
“Excuse me?” Rose asked.
“You said someone might have spiked the Campari. I need to analyze one of those cocktails. Brilliant! It’s so simple that it’s brilliant.”
“Wait a minute,” Keenon protested. “You’re suggesting one of my students is responsible for this. You can’t possibly believe -”
“But I can; it’s in the cocktails. I don’t know what he put in or why, but I need to analyze one of them. It’s something alien, something that affects humans in a way they probably didn’t intend - and it’s students. Rose, you weren’t wrong when you said they were a possibility.”
She was grinning at him. “Totally different circumstances, but I’ll take the compliment.”
“I can’t believe this,” Safir said. “You come in here, you threaten to turn us over to the authorities and then you accuse one of my students doing something potentially harmful to the locals. Who the hell are you?”
There was something in Safir’s voice that made the Doctor stop and focus on him. “You suspected this, didn’t you?”
Everyone had turned to look at Safir. “If you know something,” Keenon said, “maybe it’s best if you tell us. We can do something to help him.”
“Oh, now you’re worried about Ditol,” Safir said. “This whole time, you’ve been worrying about your precious study and what it would mean to you. You didn’t give a damn about the students; they were just there to do your bidding because you can’t be bothered to lift a finger.” He spun toward the Doctor. “Well, I’m not letting you do anything to him. I don’t care if it ruins Keenon’s career, but maybe it’s time we all just pack our bags and go home.”
“We have to fix this,” the Doctor said quietly. “You know we do. Doesn’t have to involve the authorities, but we have to -”
He started to take a step forward, but stopped as a gun appeared in Safir’s hand.