1x13: The Taste of Fear (1/3)
Title: The Taste of Fear (1/3)
Author: gin_and_ashes
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: While on an errand for an injured Rose, the Doctor stumbles across a potentially deadly threat to the planet Earth in the unlikeliest of places.
Author's notes: Thanks to jlrpuck for being a terrific beta, and to shinyopals for making sure all the pieces fit together.
Episode 13 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following Ten Minutes last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" the Doctor said as he hovered nervously over Rose's bed. "Another pillow? Some tea? Scratch down your cast with a straightened coat hanger? Perhaps a massage? You know I'm very good at that."
Rose raised an eyebrow.
"Not the, er, usual kind I give you, I mean. For one thing, the cast is a bit of an impediment. Not a turn-off, mind, though now I feel I should clarify it's not a turn-on, either, wouldn't want you thinking...anyway, not with the cast and certainly not with your mother here and I really shouldn't have shared any of that, should I?"
"Don't mind me," Jackie chimed in as she folded and put away Rose's laundry. "I've been tuning you out for the last...oh, what is it now, going on two years?"
"Marvellous. Something we have in common, then."
"Mum," interjected Rose before Jackie could even glower at the Doctor, "you know you don't have to do our washing; we've got a laundry on the TARDIS now."
"Oh, I don't mind. Gives me something to do with my hands, and besides, it's good for me. Keeps me remembering who I am. I tell you, Rose, some of the wives I meet--it's not just that they don't know how to iron a blouse, they act like it's beneath them." She sniffed dismissively. "I've got no time for women like that. Ooh, Rose, this is gorgeous! Where on earth did you get it?"
Jackie held up a pale blue dress, turning it this way and that as she admired it. It took a moment for Rose to realise that it was the dress Metella had given her in Alexandria. Alexandria, where everything had gone so horribly wrong and she'd come so dangerously close to losing the Doctor forever. A surreptitious glance in the Doctor's direction showed that he, too, remembered the dress's provenance. Quickly, she sought to change the subject.
"Um, Egypt, I think. Mum, we haven't heard anything from Dad about the investigation into who--into what happened here," she amended, not wanting to remind her mother too directly of the kidnapping. "Has there been any progress? Have they been able to connect Bob Charila to anything yet?"
"If there has, he hasn't told me," Jackie said, draping the dress carefully over a hanger and placing it in the cupboard. "Honestly, Rose, I'd rather not think about it."
"Fair enough. I was just wondering."
Jackie's smartphone beeped. "Ooh, is that the time? I'll miss my programme. You all right for now, Rose? Yes? Brilliant."
Before Rose could reply, Jackie shoved her way past a startled Doctor and disappeared down the corridor, leaving behind an awkward silence and a half-folded pile of laundry. The latter, at least, Rose could do something about. Rolling onto one hip, she leaned, stretched, and pulled as much of the pile as she could, sorting and folding while the Doctor looked on sullenly. The reminder of Alexandria and the resultant fallout on Houm had stirred fresh guilt in the Doctor, and an uncertainty she'd never seen.
"Do...do you want help with that?" the Doctor ventured after a few silent moments.
"Nah, there's not that much left. Besides," she said, grinning up at him, "you always fold my knickers wrong."
"My way is more efficient."
"Your way is weird."
"But my way allows for twenty-three percent more volume in the same space," the Doctor protested. "Forty-four percent if you're talking about g-strings, twelve percent if it's boyshorts or tangas."
Rose stopped and stared in mid-fold. "Doctor, please don't take this the wrong way, but husband or not, you have devoted entirely too much thought to my underwear."
"I'm just trying to make the best use of the space we have right now. Eventually the TARDIS will have a proper wardrobe for you and you can toss your knickers about willy-nilly--"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"--but until then, space is at a premium."
Rose grew sombre; she knew what was plaguing him, how long he'd worried. "You'd rather be in there, wouldn't you?" she asked, inclining her head towards the corner of the room where the TARDIS had been parked for over two weeks. Being stuck in one place, with her unable to walk more than a few steps--and those with a cane--must have been driving him mad. He'd made some basic repairs since they'd been home, stabilising and refining the emergency fix he'd done before, but otherwise, the poor ship had been neglected.
The Doctor's eyes widened. He sank down onto the bed, sitting in a pile of freshly folded trousers; Rose pretended not to notice. "What? No! How can you--no, Rose."
"I know it's worrying you, what's going on with her. It's worrying me, too." She reached out and took his hand. "You want to find out who's done this, of course you do. And if it weren't for my leg…"
"Not another word, Rose Tyler. Not one word." His expression was severe, but not unkind. "Do I want to know who's been meddling with the TARDIS? Yes, of course I do. But if you think for one moment that you are somehow less important than her--"
"I didn't mean it that way, not really. I just--" she looked down at the cast that enveloped her leg. "You let Torchwood take care of my leg. You didn't even suggest using the TARDIS."
"Rose, her med bay isn't--"
"That's not what I mean and you know it. If everything was all right with her, we could pop to a clinic in the future somewhere and have me back like new overnight." She squeezed the hand she held. "But everything's not all right, is it?"
"I don't know," the Doctor answered. Rose wondered if she'd ever heard him so afraid. "I just don't know. All the tests, all the diagnostics say she's fine, that there's nothing--it should be perfectly safe, but…"
"But?"
The Doctor pulled his hand free of hers, stood, and began pacing. "What if I'm wrong? I'm part human now; my senses aren't as sharp as they once were. I might miss something that would--should--be obvious."
"Maybe whoever it was gave up," Rose offered. The Doctor said nothing, only looked at her sceptically. She shrugged. "We can hope?"
"I'd love to believe that, I really would. But no, what's far more likely is that whoever is behind all of this is clever--fiendishly clever--and is testing me. Us? I don't know. At first I thought this was about your family's wealth, or about Torchwood, but...this Charila person asked for us. Specifically."
"But how is that possible? You had nine hundred years and a Time War to make enemies in the other universe, Doctor. Here you've only had two, and most of that's been spent on Earth. That's a bit ambitious, even for you."
"Even so, the fact remains that someone, somehow, has been targeting us."
Rose sighed and smoothed the rumpled trousers. The Doctor paced through the room, then blew out a frustrated breath and slumped against the wall, staring listlessly out the window with his hands in his pockets. She hated seeing him feel so trapped, so helpless. Again she cursed the ill luck or malice or whatever it was that had resulted in her broken leg. They should be out there, chasing down their mysterious foe, not cooped up inside her parents' house, waiting for whoever it was to attack again.
But the Doctor, in his own inimitable fashion, had taken their talk on Houm to heart--maybe too much so--and refused to take even the slightest step towards an investigation without her. Instead, he hung around her bedside, looking miserable and sounding worse. It was driving her spare. Something had to be done--something drastic.
"Doctor," she said as nonchalantly as she could manage. "There is something you can do for me."
"What?" He started; he'd probably been so wrapped up in self-castigation that he'd forgotten she was even there. Well, at least he was predictable. "Oh, yes. Anything, you name it."
Rose pressed her lips together and gave him her best, most mischievous smile. "It's a bit...frivolous."
The beginnings of a smile began to play around the corners of his mouth; his laugh lines threatened to appear. Rose realised how long it had been since she'd seen him so much as grin; she'd missed that.
"Rose Tyler, I happen to excel at frivolity."
"You do, it's true. Which is why you're the perfect man for the job."
She moved the trousers out of the way and beckoned for him to come closer. He returned to sit at her side, and Rose leaned in conspiratorially.
"What I need," she said, her voice low and urgent, "what I am desperate for, are...cupcakes."
The Doctor blinked.
"I'm sorry. Did you say...cupcakes?" Rose nodded gravely. "Cupcakes," he repeated.
"Not just any cupcakes, though."
"Special cupcakes?"
"Very special. There's this little shop, you see, not far from Hyde Park Corner, where they have the most amazing apple cupcakes."
"Apple cupcakes?" Unimpressed, he wrinkled his nose.
"Mmmm, yes. And banana."
He perked up at once. "And we've never been there...why, exactly?"
"Dunno, it must have slipped my mind. But right now I would give anything for an apple cupcake. I know it's silly, but I don't suppose you'd…"
The Doctor leaped to his feet. "If my lady wants apple cupcakes, then apple cupcakes she shall have. Not only that, but I'll do it the human way. I'll even go so far as to use money."
"Our money?"
"A man has his limits." Rose glared. "I'm just going to ask Jackie for the cash," he protested with a grin, as he headed for the bedroom door. "I'll even offer to get something for her and Tony in return."
"Doctor?"
He stopped in the doorway and spun to face her. "Yes?"
She smiled. "Thank you."
The Doctor smiled in return, then swept out the door, his coat billowing behind him, a man on a mission. Rose laid back, closing her eyes and trying not to think about the pain, the new hardware in her leg, or how long they might be stuck on Earth. There would be time to worry about all of that later. For now, she needed peace, quiet, and rest.
~~~~~
Jackie, as it turned out, was happy to give the Doctor money for Rose's errand, so he had more than enough cash--but only the vaguest sense of where he was going. Rose had mentioned that the shop was near Hyde Park Corner. He knew where that was, of course. Well, generally. Sort of. A bit. Anyway, the question wasn't so much where he was going as it was how he was going to get there. Jackie's failure to offer him the use of her car and driver was a fairly unmistakable clue that she, at least, wanted him out of the house for a while, and he suspected Rose felt the same way. Which stung a little, even if he couldn't really blame her.
He dug through his pockets until he found the Oyster card (even here they were called Oyster cards, and even here he had no idea why) that Rose had insisted he carry with him, back when they'd been Earth-bound. The first time, that is, he thought, scowling.
The thing of it was, the Doctor pondered as he headed in the direction of the nearest Tube stop, that they shouldn't be, not now, not really. The TARDIS had been repaired as well as was possible, given the current technology. Pete had gone so far as to offer Torchwood resources, but the Doctor had declined; whoever had been playing with them had infiltrated Torchwood somehow, and he didn't want anything suspect making its way onto his ship--their ship, he corrected himself. He trusted Pete, and he knew he could scan the tech, but better overly cautious than exceedingly dead.
But repaired or not, someone had inexplicably managed to tamper with the TARDIS, an act of sabotage that by all logic should have been impossible. That ship was unique in this universe--there had never been another one. No one on Earth, no one in this time, should have been able to operate the TARDIS, much less tamper with it.
The Doctor waved his Oyster card at the sensor--thank goodness there was still some money on it, since he couldn't be sure his slightly-slightly-psychic paper would have worked--and passed through the electronic gates, which stuttered slightly before opening fully. Stupid plastic annoyances. Here he was, the Lord of Time. On the Tube. And he was going to have to transfer. Was this going to be their life for the next year? Stuck on Earth, waiting for Rose's bones to knit back together, because the TARDIS couldn't be trusted? Because he couldn't trust himself to know for certain if it was safe?
His thoughts distracted him so that he nearly got on the wrong train. By the time he emerged at Hyde Park Corner, he was in what could rightfully be called a snit. Nothing was going right; in fact, everything since Alexandria had gone about as wrong as it could possibly go. He and Rose were supposed to be out there amongst the stars, meeting new people, getting into trouble and righting wrongs, not sitting in Jackie's parlour watching rubbish telly and arguing over how best to fold knickers.
And honestly, why they'd even argue about such a thing was beyond him, since his way was clearly superior, not that he understood why Rose felt she needed so much underwear anyway. They had a washer/dryer on the TARDIS now, and as far as he could tell, it hadn't been sabotaged, because really, who'd sabotage a clothes washer? Well, unless of course they were on the planet Dhazz, where the entire planetary economy revolved around intergalactic laundry services, but then again, anyone whose ambitions of conquest were limited to running what was, essentially, the galaxy's largest laundrette was hardly a foe to be feared, and...where was he, again?
The Doctor stopped, swivelling his head this way and that, trying to get his bearings. He'd gotten off the Tube at Hyde Park Corner, he knew that much, but he'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he'd completely lost track of where he was going. Instead of finding Rose's cupcake shop, he'd wandered into the park somewhere, how far he had no idea. And the sun had set. He raised his arm, snapping his wrist to shake his watch out from underneath his cuff. Blast! The shop, wherever it was, would surely be closed by now. One simple human errand--getting pastries, for goodness sake--and he couldn't even get that right. What use was he?
Dejected, he slumped down onto a park bench and stared out at the glassy grey surface of the Serpentine. It would be curfew soon. He should probably think about returning, sans cupcakes, to the house. That thought--that he'd become a man who obeyed a curfew--depressed him even further, and he glowered as he sank back into the park bench.
He was just trying to decide if he wanted to consider the fact that Rose hadn't yet called a compliment or an insult when he saw it--a pale, bluish-green glow, just under the surface of the water, gone almost as soon as it had appeared. He straightened, his entire body taut as a bowstring, watching the water for what he knew he'd seen but couldn't possibly explain. Had he simply imagined it? But no, there it was again, followed by another and another and oh! There was another one. Slowly, cautiously, he eased his body up from the bench, moving with a steady pace that belied his urgency (and made his muscles ache) towards the edge of the water. The nighttime patrol would be there soon, so he had to be hasty. But if he moved too fast, the creatures in the water (he refused to name them, not yet, not even if he was certain of what he'd seen) would see him as a threat, and they'd scatter--or worse. That couldn't happen. Still...it was impossible. They shouldn't be there. They couldn't be here. He had to be wrong. Never mind that he was never ever wrong; this time he had to be. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he drew close enough to get a good look at the source of the luminescence.
He wasn't wrong. But how...?
He retreated, more quickly this time, ducking into a nearby copse of trees to avoid being seen by a passing patrol. Once the officers were safely out of earshot, the Doctor pulled out his phone and dialled Rose.
"I wasn't worried," Rose said by way of hello. "Honest. You can tell that I trust you completely by the way I didn't call wondering where you were when you weren't back here an hour ago."
"Never mind that," the Doctor whispered, one nervous eye on the water. "Rose? The Earth has been invaded."
~~~~~
Chapter Two
Author: gin_and_ashes
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: While on an errand for an injured Rose, the Doctor stumbles across a potentially deadly threat to the planet Earth in the unlikeliest of places.
Author's notes: Thanks to jlrpuck for being a terrific beta, and to shinyopals for making sure all the pieces fit together.
Episode 13 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following Ten Minutes last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" the Doctor said as he hovered nervously over Rose's bed. "Another pillow? Some tea? Scratch down your cast with a straightened coat hanger? Perhaps a massage? You know I'm very good at that."
Rose raised an eyebrow.
"Not the, er, usual kind I give you, I mean. For one thing, the cast is a bit of an impediment. Not a turn-off, mind, though now I feel I should clarify it's not a turn-on, either, wouldn't want you thinking...anyway, not with the cast and certainly not with your mother here and I really shouldn't have shared any of that, should I?"
"Don't mind me," Jackie chimed in as she folded and put away Rose's laundry. "I've been tuning you out for the last...oh, what is it now, going on two years?"
"Marvellous. Something we have in common, then."
"Mum," interjected Rose before Jackie could even glower at the Doctor, "you know you don't have to do our washing; we've got a laundry on the TARDIS now."
"Oh, I don't mind. Gives me something to do with my hands, and besides, it's good for me. Keeps me remembering who I am. I tell you, Rose, some of the wives I meet--it's not just that they don't know how to iron a blouse, they act like it's beneath them." She sniffed dismissively. "I've got no time for women like that. Ooh, Rose, this is gorgeous! Where on earth did you get it?"
Jackie held up a pale blue dress, turning it this way and that as she admired it. It took a moment for Rose to realise that it was the dress Metella had given her in Alexandria. Alexandria, where everything had gone so horribly wrong and she'd come so dangerously close to losing the Doctor forever. A surreptitious glance in the Doctor's direction showed that he, too, remembered the dress's provenance. Quickly, she sought to change the subject.
"Um, Egypt, I think. Mum, we haven't heard anything from Dad about the investigation into who--into what happened here," she amended, not wanting to remind her mother too directly of the kidnapping. "Has there been any progress? Have they been able to connect Bob Charila to anything yet?"
"If there has, he hasn't told me," Jackie said, draping the dress carefully over a hanger and placing it in the cupboard. "Honestly, Rose, I'd rather not think about it."
"Fair enough. I was just wondering."
Jackie's smartphone beeped. "Ooh, is that the time? I'll miss my programme. You all right for now, Rose? Yes? Brilliant."
Before Rose could reply, Jackie shoved her way past a startled Doctor and disappeared down the corridor, leaving behind an awkward silence and a half-folded pile of laundry. The latter, at least, Rose could do something about. Rolling onto one hip, she leaned, stretched, and pulled as much of the pile as she could, sorting and folding while the Doctor looked on sullenly. The reminder of Alexandria and the resultant fallout on Houm had stirred fresh guilt in the Doctor, and an uncertainty she'd never seen.
"Do...do you want help with that?" the Doctor ventured after a few silent moments.
"Nah, there's not that much left. Besides," she said, grinning up at him, "you always fold my knickers wrong."
"My way is more efficient."
"Your way is weird."
"But my way allows for twenty-three percent more volume in the same space," the Doctor protested. "Forty-four percent if you're talking about g-strings, twelve percent if it's boyshorts or tangas."
Rose stopped and stared in mid-fold. "Doctor, please don't take this the wrong way, but husband or not, you have devoted entirely too much thought to my underwear."
"I'm just trying to make the best use of the space we have right now. Eventually the TARDIS will have a proper wardrobe for you and you can toss your knickers about willy-nilly--"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"--but until then, space is at a premium."
Rose grew sombre; she knew what was plaguing him, how long he'd worried. "You'd rather be in there, wouldn't you?" she asked, inclining her head towards the corner of the room where the TARDIS had been parked for over two weeks. Being stuck in one place, with her unable to walk more than a few steps--and those with a cane--must have been driving him mad. He'd made some basic repairs since they'd been home, stabilising and refining the emergency fix he'd done before, but otherwise, the poor ship had been neglected.
The Doctor's eyes widened. He sank down onto the bed, sitting in a pile of freshly folded trousers; Rose pretended not to notice. "What? No! How can you--no, Rose."
"I know it's worrying you, what's going on with her. It's worrying me, too." She reached out and took his hand. "You want to find out who's done this, of course you do. And if it weren't for my leg…"
"Not another word, Rose Tyler. Not one word." His expression was severe, but not unkind. "Do I want to know who's been meddling with the TARDIS? Yes, of course I do. But if you think for one moment that you are somehow less important than her--"
"I didn't mean it that way, not really. I just--" she looked down at the cast that enveloped her leg. "You let Torchwood take care of my leg. You didn't even suggest using the TARDIS."
"Rose, her med bay isn't--"
"That's not what I mean and you know it. If everything was all right with her, we could pop to a clinic in the future somewhere and have me back like new overnight." She squeezed the hand she held. "But everything's not all right, is it?"
"I don't know," the Doctor answered. Rose wondered if she'd ever heard him so afraid. "I just don't know. All the tests, all the diagnostics say she's fine, that there's nothing--it should be perfectly safe, but…"
"But?"
The Doctor pulled his hand free of hers, stood, and began pacing. "What if I'm wrong? I'm part human now; my senses aren't as sharp as they once were. I might miss something that would--should--be obvious."
"Maybe whoever it was gave up," Rose offered. The Doctor said nothing, only looked at her sceptically. She shrugged. "We can hope?"
"I'd love to believe that, I really would. But no, what's far more likely is that whoever is behind all of this is clever--fiendishly clever--and is testing me. Us? I don't know. At first I thought this was about your family's wealth, or about Torchwood, but...this Charila person asked for us. Specifically."
"But how is that possible? You had nine hundred years and a Time War to make enemies in the other universe, Doctor. Here you've only had two, and most of that's been spent on Earth. That's a bit ambitious, even for you."
"Even so, the fact remains that someone, somehow, has been targeting us."
Rose sighed and smoothed the rumpled trousers. The Doctor paced through the room, then blew out a frustrated breath and slumped against the wall, staring listlessly out the window with his hands in his pockets. She hated seeing him feel so trapped, so helpless. Again she cursed the ill luck or malice or whatever it was that had resulted in her broken leg. They should be out there, chasing down their mysterious foe, not cooped up inside her parents' house, waiting for whoever it was to attack again.
But the Doctor, in his own inimitable fashion, had taken their talk on Houm to heart--maybe too much so--and refused to take even the slightest step towards an investigation without her. Instead, he hung around her bedside, looking miserable and sounding worse. It was driving her spare. Something had to be done--something drastic.
"Doctor," she said as nonchalantly as she could manage. "There is something you can do for me."
"What?" He started; he'd probably been so wrapped up in self-castigation that he'd forgotten she was even there. Well, at least he was predictable. "Oh, yes. Anything, you name it."
Rose pressed her lips together and gave him her best, most mischievous smile. "It's a bit...frivolous."
The beginnings of a smile began to play around the corners of his mouth; his laugh lines threatened to appear. Rose realised how long it had been since she'd seen him so much as grin; she'd missed that.
"Rose Tyler, I happen to excel at frivolity."
"You do, it's true. Which is why you're the perfect man for the job."
She moved the trousers out of the way and beckoned for him to come closer. He returned to sit at her side, and Rose leaned in conspiratorially.
"What I need," she said, her voice low and urgent, "what I am desperate for, are...cupcakes."
The Doctor blinked.
"I'm sorry. Did you say...cupcakes?" Rose nodded gravely. "Cupcakes," he repeated.
"Not just any cupcakes, though."
"Special cupcakes?"
"Very special. There's this little shop, you see, not far from Hyde Park Corner, where they have the most amazing apple cupcakes."
"Apple cupcakes?" Unimpressed, he wrinkled his nose.
"Mmmm, yes. And banana."
He perked up at once. "And we've never been there...why, exactly?"
"Dunno, it must have slipped my mind. But right now I would give anything for an apple cupcake. I know it's silly, but I don't suppose you'd…"
The Doctor leaped to his feet. "If my lady wants apple cupcakes, then apple cupcakes she shall have. Not only that, but I'll do it the human way. I'll even go so far as to use money."
"Our money?"
"A man has his limits." Rose glared. "I'm just going to ask Jackie for the cash," he protested with a grin, as he headed for the bedroom door. "I'll even offer to get something for her and Tony in return."
"Doctor?"
He stopped in the doorway and spun to face her. "Yes?"
She smiled. "Thank you."
The Doctor smiled in return, then swept out the door, his coat billowing behind him, a man on a mission. Rose laid back, closing her eyes and trying not to think about the pain, the new hardware in her leg, or how long they might be stuck on Earth. There would be time to worry about all of that later. For now, she needed peace, quiet, and rest.
~~~~~
Jackie, as it turned out, was happy to give the Doctor money for Rose's errand, so he had more than enough cash--but only the vaguest sense of where he was going. Rose had mentioned that the shop was near Hyde Park Corner. He knew where that was, of course. Well, generally. Sort of. A bit. Anyway, the question wasn't so much where he was going as it was how he was going to get there. Jackie's failure to offer him the use of her car and driver was a fairly unmistakable clue that she, at least, wanted him out of the house for a while, and he suspected Rose felt the same way. Which stung a little, even if he couldn't really blame her.
He dug through his pockets until he found the Oyster card (even here they were called Oyster cards, and even here he had no idea why) that Rose had insisted he carry with him, back when they'd been Earth-bound. The first time, that is, he thought, scowling.
The thing of it was, the Doctor pondered as he headed in the direction of the nearest Tube stop, that they shouldn't be, not now, not really. The TARDIS had been repaired as well as was possible, given the current technology. Pete had gone so far as to offer Torchwood resources, but the Doctor had declined; whoever had been playing with them had infiltrated Torchwood somehow, and he didn't want anything suspect making its way onto his ship--their ship, he corrected himself. He trusted Pete, and he knew he could scan the tech, but better overly cautious than exceedingly dead.
But repaired or not, someone had inexplicably managed to tamper with the TARDIS, an act of sabotage that by all logic should have been impossible. That ship was unique in this universe--there had never been another one. No one on Earth, no one in this time, should have been able to operate the TARDIS, much less tamper with it.
The Doctor waved his Oyster card at the sensor--thank goodness there was still some money on it, since he couldn't be sure his slightly-slightly-psychic paper would have worked--and passed through the electronic gates, which stuttered slightly before opening fully. Stupid plastic annoyances. Here he was, the Lord of Time. On the Tube. And he was going to have to transfer. Was this going to be their life for the next year? Stuck on Earth, waiting for Rose's bones to knit back together, because the TARDIS couldn't be trusted? Because he couldn't trust himself to know for certain if it was safe?
His thoughts distracted him so that he nearly got on the wrong train. By the time he emerged at Hyde Park Corner, he was in what could rightfully be called a snit. Nothing was going right; in fact, everything since Alexandria had gone about as wrong as it could possibly go. He and Rose were supposed to be out there amongst the stars, meeting new people, getting into trouble and righting wrongs, not sitting in Jackie's parlour watching rubbish telly and arguing over how best to fold knickers.
And honestly, why they'd even argue about such a thing was beyond him, since his way was clearly superior, not that he understood why Rose felt she needed so much underwear anyway. They had a washer/dryer on the TARDIS now, and as far as he could tell, it hadn't been sabotaged, because really, who'd sabotage a clothes washer? Well, unless of course they were on the planet Dhazz, where the entire planetary economy revolved around intergalactic laundry services, but then again, anyone whose ambitions of conquest were limited to running what was, essentially, the galaxy's largest laundrette was hardly a foe to be feared, and...where was he, again?
The Doctor stopped, swivelling his head this way and that, trying to get his bearings. He'd gotten off the Tube at Hyde Park Corner, he knew that much, but he'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he'd completely lost track of where he was going. Instead of finding Rose's cupcake shop, he'd wandered into the park somewhere, how far he had no idea. And the sun had set. He raised his arm, snapping his wrist to shake his watch out from underneath his cuff. Blast! The shop, wherever it was, would surely be closed by now. One simple human errand--getting pastries, for goodness sake--and he couldn't even get that right. What use was he?
Dejected, he slumped down onto a park bench and stared out at the glassy grey surface of the Serpentine. It would be curfew soon. He should probably think about returning, sans cupcakes, to the house. That thought--that he'd become a man who obeyed a curfew--depressed him even further, and he glowered as he sank back into the park bench.
He was just trying to decide if he wanted to consider the fact that Rose hadn't yet called a compliment or an insult when he saw it--a pale, bluish-green glow, just under the surface of the water, gone almost as soon as it had appeared. He straightened, his entire body taut as a bowstring, watching the water for what he knew he'd seen but couldn't possibly explain. Had he simply imagined it? But no, there it was again, followed by another and another and oh! There was another one. Slowly, cautiously, he eased his body up from the bench, moving with a steady pace that belied his urgency (and made his muscles ache) towards the edge of the water. The nighttime patrol would be there soon, so he had to be hasty. But if he moved too fast, the creatures in the water (he refused to name them, not yet, not even if he was certain of what he'd seen) would see him as a threat, and they'd scatter--or worse. That couldn't happen. Still...it was impossible. They shouldn't be there. They couldn't be here. He had to be wrong. Never mind that he was never ever wrong; this time he had to be. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he drew close enough to get a good look at the source of the luminescence.
He wasn't wrong. But how...?
He retreated, more quickly this time, ducking into a nearby copse of trees to avoid being seen by a passing patrol. Once the officers were safely out of earshot, the Doctor pulled out his phone and dialled Rose.
"I wasn't worried," Rose said by way of hello. "Honest. You can tell that I trust you completely by the way I didn't call wondering where you were when you weren't back here an hour ago."
"Never mind that," the Doctor whispered, one nervous eye on the water. "Rose? The Earth has been invaded."
~~~~~
Chapter Two