Disclaimer: They belong to the BBC and I am just playing.Author's note: For the LJ community drabblingwho; each season of New Who will be a separate chapter of 13 100-word drabbles. For Season 1 I've mainly concentrated on minor characters.
Run! Afterwards, she always thought that it was strange how the first word the Doctor ever spoke to her seemed to characterise their whole life together. Running, from mannequins come to life. Running, from plastic Mickey. Running from alien monsters. Running from her boring, mundane life.
She hadn't really been thinking about running - definitely not about running right away from Earth itself. But there was the Doctor's big grin, and his firm grip when he seized her hand, and the promise of the universe spread out in front of her.
How could she ever have considered running away from that?
The End of the World
Rose has never felt more alone than when she stands looking down at the Earth, with a time-travelling alien who sounds like he's from the North at her side. The blue and green sphere, so familiar from pictures, is so far away, so long ago. Yet there's her mother on the end of the phone, chattering away as if nothing has changed.
Everything has changed, of course, including herself. She witnesses the death of the last human, and sees a void where the Earth once was. But standing amid the bustle of London, she knows she'll never be alone again.
The Unquiet Dead
She's brave enough to talk to Rose Tyler about what she sees in her past, and in her future. But Gwyneth cannot speak to her companion - this Doctor - about the images he stirs in her mind. Flames, and dust, and the screaming. So much screaming. And there are so many faces, and so many voices - all his, but not his, in a way she does not understand. Rose is strange, and bright, but warm-hearted and completely human. The Doctor is not; he is ice-hard and flame-hot, an unforgiving tempest. And that scares Gwyneth more than her own, inescapable, immediate future.
Aliens of London
That was the day her life changed. That was the day many people's lives changed, she knew that; but Toshiko rather thought hers changed more. It was only by chance that she was even doing the shift in autopsy that day - away from the computers - and so it was only by chance she was given the alien to examine.
But once the alien - no, the pig, the pig in a spacesuit - had been killed, Toshiko found her mind dwelling on the man who had appeared to help catch it, and wind in her hair, that sound ringing in her ears.
World War III
The cottage hospitals Bill is probably a lost cause, Harriet reflects, as the Doctor flicks a switch and encloses them inside the Cabinet Rooms. But then the Prime Minister is dead, and the nice young secretary man - why did she never ask his name?
The emergency protocols are useless; but this strange Doctor seems to know what he's talking about. His enthusiastic blonde companion might be somewhat inclined towards blowing things up, but she acts like she trusts him. On balance, Harriet Jones finds herself rather glad to have fallen in with this pair.
She's even gladder after the election.
She has worked for Van Statten for some time now. A couple of years, perhaps, coming in after she left the Army. It seemed a logical move - swapping the hot, sandy discomfort of the desert battlefield for good pay and relative safety in the Utah bunker. Dark underground, and dull work, but it paid the bills.
But somehow De Maggio has always known she would die in battle, facing an enemy gun. She hadn't thought the enemy would be an alien, or that the final battlefield would be this anonymous concrete staircase - but it makes sense. She's ready. She fires.
The Long Game
Frankly, the Mighty Jagrafess is not amused. Too many things have gone wrong recently, and if the Editor wasn't so difficult to replace he'd have replaced him long ago. The irritating being known as the Doctor and his blue box should never have been allowed to land on Satellite Five; bringing the freedom fighter up to Level 500 was another grave mistake.
But something else is wrong - it seems to be getting hotter. The Jagrafess tries a good roar at the Editor - it always worked in the past. This time, however, holding the front page would still be too late.
He just ran out. Ran out from the church and straight in front of me, there was nothing I could do. It was almost like he meant to do it - but nobody could explain why, not his mates or his wife.
I'll remember that accident for the rest of my life. The weird thing is that sometimes, in my dreams, it doesn't happen there near the church, but round the corner by the estate. And in those dreams there's a man and a girl watching, the same girl who comforted him in life. I don't know why I dream that.
The Empty Child
He knows too much, does this Doctor. Sees too much. Nancy doesn't know how he got into the house, or what he thinks about … about the child, but she's sure she doesn't like it. There's something about the way he looks at her that's pitying, and calculating, and it disturbs her. He's not from round about, that's obvious, but Nancy reckons he might be from further away than the North. It's the way he talks, the way he moves, the things he's asking about.
She doesn't like it, but she'll help him, because he might just help her back.
The Doctor Dances
At heart, Jack Harkness is a coward. He's always been a coward, a liar, and a cheat; he'd rather run from something or talk his way out of it than confront it straight on.
Not like these two, the Doctor and Rose. Somehow, even when they're running - and they seem to do a lot of running, from what he's gathered - they're still fighting. Fighting together, and laughing together. Nobody has looked at Jack like the way Rose looks at the Doctor for far too long. Watching them dance, he realises he wants someone to gaze at him like that again.
It was never really established what happened to Margaret Blaine after the earthquake. She had, witnesses said, been seen in a restaurant on the Docks that night, sharing a bottle of red wine and talking closely with a man in a leather jacket. But try as she might, Cathy failed to find any source who had seen either the Mayor or leather-jacket man after the sudden earthquake. And once Blaine had disappeared, so did the Blaidd Drwg project, and Cathy's editor refused to run her story, saying there was no point any more.
Cathy disagreed, but the scoop was gone.
Being in the House wasn't all that bad, not really, not at first. Lynda was surprised at how not-bad it was, considering all she'd heard. The housemates were great - most of them - there was plenty to do, for the tasks, and the food was okay. And it could've been Ground Force.
As the weeks went by and each housemate in turn got eliminated, the tension rose and Lynda began to wish she could go too, if only to end the waiting. It was only when the Doctor held out his hand to her that Lynda found the courage she needed.
The Parting of the Ways
So this is it. This is the end. And though he knows it isn't, really, it hurts - hurts more than the pain of the Vortex in his head - to know that he will never again see Rose through these eyes, speak to her in this voice, take her hand in this hand.
What if it goes wrong, because of the Vortex? What if he tries to kill Rose, what if he succeeds? Would that guilt weigh more on his soul than Gallifrey?
There is no time to warn her now; there is time only to tell her - she was fantastic.