A Little bit Off
A Dead Zone/Doctor Who Crossover
10th Doctor era (post-Tooth and Claw) / Season 2 of The Dead Zone

Rated G, just an idea that bore itself into my brain. Referances to 2nd-season episodes "Tooth and Claw", "The Christmas Invasion", and the "Children In Need" special.
MASSIVE PLATES OF COOKIES to whoever can find the Tooth and Claw referance. X3

Dialogue found at http/who-transcripts.
Apologies: If I get details wrong, if my impersonation of voices or accents is off, I'm sorry. My mind is a fuzzy world.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or ideas from Doctor Who OR The Dead Zone, but I have every right to dribble on their shoes. X3

There was something off about them. That was the impression John Smith felt, his blue eyes calmly studying the couple seated only two booths away. The diner in his homestate of Maine did attract plenty of visitors from across the Atlantic, yet there was something different about these two.

He knew they were british, being close enough to catch snippets of their conversation, though parts made little sense to the former schoolteacher. They'd been there since he'd walked in, just hanging out without a care in the world. Johnny had judged the girl about 19, 20 years old, a Londoner most likely, as her accent hinted heavily. She was dressed like any other teenager-slash-young adult you'd expect. Jeans faded, worn from use, a bit of dirt smudged across the lower right leg. A t-shirt like any other you might find in the nearest retail store was half exposed behind the partway zipped pink and white hoodie, and her long blonde hair fell about her face, unhindered by any sort of hair-accessory he would've expected from an American teen. She giggled, plucking a french fry from the plate between herself and her partner, and crunched on it, normal as one would expect.

"Not as good as the chips back 'ome, but they'll do, for now. Y'still owe me for saving your butt back on..what was that planet...Silima-whatsit." She remarked, jabbing a french fry at the man seated somewhat across from her with a teasing grin. "You and your 'big threatening buttons'. 'ow old did you say you were 'gain, Doctor? 9 years old?"

Her partner, apparently known only as "Doctor", on the other hand, now here was a curiosity. He looked quite out of place amidst the smalltown bustle of the diner. He looked only a few years older then the girl, maybe 30 at best. He wore a brown suit pinstriped with white, a tie halfway loosened at his collar, and white trainers...well, maybe they used to be white. At the moment they looked somewhat dusted. Throw on a trenchcoat over the whole ensemble and he certainly looked odd. A tossled mop of dark brown hair seemed infinately unable to come undone from that state, no matter how much he ran his busy fingers through it, which had been several times since John had noticed them. His expression was almost childlike, wafting between manic and innocent, amused and sheepish, teasingly hurt yet put out at the implication she had made, all at the same time! His dark eyes twinkled, though his face bore the slightest of scowls as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket, leaning his back against the booth's wall.

"Silimakorisphanatra. And I take offense a'that, I'm 900 years young I am. If I recall, Rose Tyler, it was you who insulted the bloke. I merely...stepped in to render a word or two of apology and accidentily bumped the console...with my hand..." He retorted, trying to seem...aloof towards the end...or something...he was a hard man to read. The odd name of the 'planet' flowed from his mouth as if he had said it a million times before, and John perked his ears, though he knew he shouldn't, applying liberal ketchup beneath the bun of his hamburger.

"Oh come off it, it wasn't that funny." Rose had started laughing at whatever memory he had drawn forth, and John suspected whatever had happened had been amusing. The Doctor's expression became a slightly more annoyed pout, but only until her laugh infected him and he started chuckling as well.

"Wha'ever." Rose chuckled, munching on another fry. "So where're we off to next, time lord? Or should I expect a repeat of Sheffield?" The Doctor blinked, his eyebrows elevating up his forehead lightly as he mulled that over. "Ah, well, I s'pose that's up to the TARDIS it is. Ol' girl's got a mind of 'er own sometimes, might wind up ten thousand years off course."

John smirked to himself slightly, returning his attention to his meal. Tardis, odd names, mentions of planets and time. They were probably part of the sci-fi convention in town. The students he tutored, some of them had odd notions in their heads that their fantasy was real. Roleplaying they called it, nothing more then a game. Though John himself should've known that a fantasy could become reality.

Oh, what was this? The girl Rose had gotten up from her seat, and was heading up towards the front door. The Doctor remained for a moment or two longer, patting down his pockets in search of something before he produced a few weathered bills, hesitated a moment, then plucked enough from the amount and left them behind amidst the used dishes. John turned his blue eyes back to his plate, and picked up a fry, positioning it before his lips as the man walked past, his trenchcoat billowing slightly as he moved, hands in his pockets with a cheerful expression on his face.

Trainer-clad stride met the base of John's waywardly placed cane and the Doctor-man stumbled. Instinctively, John reached his hand out, grabbing the man's arm to steady him, right him to his feet. But as he did, the scene before his eyes changed, and he was suddenly no longer within the Diner.


A moment in time, the man at his side now leaned against the control console of some odd machine, apology and fear in his eyes as he gazes towards a frightened Rose. "The regeneration's going wrong. I can't stop myself." A grimace of pain flashing across his face, doubling over with a groan. "Ah, my head!"


A trio of Santas, standing below a balcony. They back away from the Doctor, who points some sort of device towards them threateningly. Suddenly, in a flash of blue light, they vanish. A boy, african-european, crows something about the Santas being rubbish, afraid of a screwdriver. Suddenly, the Doctor coughs, groans in pain as he's forcefully jarred back against the wall, crying out. "You woke me up too soon." He tells Rose, at his side, voice strained. "I'm still regenerating. I'm bursting with energy." His breathing is hard, and he takes in a shuddered lungful, breathing out what seems to be golden mist. More pain, explainations that John cannot catch. And the Doctor collapses to the floor of the balcony, grabbing Rose's sleeve, determined to warn her. "P-- the Pilot Fish. The Pilot Fish mean... that something-- something--something is coming" He pants, before he succumbs to unconciousness.


"You stand as this world's champion!"

"Thank-you. I've no idea who I am, but you just summed me up." The Doctor remarks, shrugging off his robe, tossing it to Rose as he steadies a sword in his hand. All around him stand aliens, strange creatures snarling in excitement or anger. He readies it before himself. "So - you accept my challenge? Or are you just a cranak pel casacree salvak?" The man grins cheekily; whatever he said must've been an insult, as the alien looks infuriated.


Pain, blossoming up his arm, only lasting a moment as he watches in shock, his hand falling away, miles and miles to Earth below. He glances up to the alien standing over him, voicing disbelief. "You cut my hand off..." The alien grins and turns about, hoisting his sword over his head with a victorious crow, as the Doctor gets to his feet. "And now I know what sort of man I am. I'm lucky. 'Cause quite by chance... I'm still within the first fifteen hours of my regeneration cycle. Which means I've got just enough residual cellular energy... to do this." He lifts his arm, feeding energy into his cells, as his hand almost magically regrows, materializing and giving the alien leader a light wave. The alien glowers. "Witchcraft!"

"Timelord." The Doctor replies smugly, though his expression is steel.


"All those planets... creatures and horizons... I haven't seem them yet! Not with these eyes..." He grins, moving to stand next to Rose, gazing into the sky as snow floats downward from a heaven filled with shooting stars. "And it is gonna be... fantastic." Rose meets his smile with her own, and he extends his hand. She grins, pointing at it slightly. "That hand of yours still gives me the creeps." He grins, and waggles his fingers persistantly, beaming as she takes it in her own and they gaze towards the stars.

"So, where are we gonna go first?" She asks curiously, looking up at him. He looks thoughtfully towards the sky, and points in a direction. "Um...that way." He hesitates. "No, wait...that way." He shifts his finger a bit to the right, gazing towards it as Rose picks it out as well, repeating his words. "That way?" He glances to her hopefully, and she nods, smiling. "Yeah...that way."


"Oi, Doctor! Come on!" Rose's voice cut through the scene, and in a flash it was gone. John blinked, shook his head slightly, returning to his own time, his own Diner, and found his blue eyes locked with the Doctor's piercing brown gaze. The stranger's expression was calm, shocked into seriousness, as if he too had seen the visions John had witnessed. As he straightened up, and John let go of his arm, the faintest of knowing smiles twitched at the corners of his mouth.

"Thank you." The Doctor nodded, dusting imaginary dust from his sleeve, and making a slight show of stepping over the cane that had tripped him up. He smiled his charming smile as he walked towards the door, where Rose was waiting impatiently for her companion. He hesitated at the door as he pushed it open, before glancing back towards the reluctant psychic. "Oh, and John? Good luck." He flashed his smile towards the american, before vanishing to the outside world, and John was left to sit at his booth, stunned into silence.

There was something off about them. That was the impression John Smith felt, watching them walking off across the parking lot towards the barely-noticeable form of an odd blue box standing between a lamp-post and a couple of trash cans, linked arm in arm and chatting up a merry old time. A small smile graced his lips. Sometimes, off was definately a good thing.