A)/N: *sneaks back into existence on FanFiction* Weeeell, how do I put this?! TOO MANY SORRIES AND APPLE PIES AND HIGH FIVES AND RUBEUS HAGRID'S for not updating in a while!! And because of this longer-than-long wait, I give you all full permission to murder me. ;D Me suggests you read the last chapter again.
Could've actually gotten this chapter up in zeh morning and had another chance about two hours ago but, meh, 'tis a miracle how hard it is to use the computer in peace when mah mum's friends are round for the whooooole day. *grumbles* ;P
B) :S Much chocolate chip cookies and apologies to Taylor Harkness; your Christmas prezzie is turning out to be a 29th-and-30th-December present. Sowwys for its lateness. :P
C) Thankie you, bananas, batches of Oreos and spider pigs to Taylor Harkness, EleBother, oddood,Elfprinzess and novacancymind for ye latest reviews!!!
And, of coursey, a biiiiiiiiiiiig thank you to Recuva for simply being the bestest 'data recovery' and 'undeleting' thingamajig ever invented. ;D Not to mention, NO thankie you at all to mah computer and Ameo for deciding to randomly go deleting most of mah files without telling me. :[
D)isclaimer: Of course I own Doctor Who! Why else would I be here writing fanfiction and feeding off your loverly reviews, hmm? XD
E) Over 225 pages of all the rambling rubbish that is 'Allergies' in Word? o_O Wowzee. =P
F) WARNING: Despite the fact that this chapter has been rewritten 3, no, 4 times in an attempt to speed the story as a whole up and reduce the amount rambling and replace it with dialogue, there are still quite the sum of pointless rambles splattered across this page. Apologies. XD
*goes off to read that rather promising looking magazine with David Tennant's face and LAST CALL FOR DOCTOR WHO SPOILERS splattered all over it 0_0*
Running. Running in the dark. Running through a cramped, dark maze of steam and boilers. Running left… then right… then left… then left again… then left yet again… then – surprise, surprise – left… then a right… then a running straight for a Weevil. Brilliant. Just… brilliant.
The clone Doctor skidded to a halt, just a few feet away from the Weevil.
It'd obviously thought things through, unlike him – who hadn't and had just run for it.
He quite missed running actually, so this was actually good practice. Having a proper 9 to 5 job at Torchwood (who'd've thought, him doing the domestics…) which involved working off the hours identifying, labelling and researching alien artefacts didn't really give him much chance to do any running. Or cause much trouble. Or stumble across any aliens or monsters.
Weeeeell, there was that one time when Alonzo had accidentally pressed a button on a piece of Bantrotroxian technology… and out popped a tiny, blue pixie-like creature.
And, yes, believe it or not, he had met another Alonzo! Technically speaking, this was the first Alonzo he'd met if he meant him personally, physically – as it was his original self who had actually, physically met the Alonzo on the Starfall Titanic. But he still had the memories and was virtually the same man – well, sort of – so he was going to class this Alonzo as the second Alonzo he'd met. Besides, if speaking theoretically, he was only, what, a year and few months old, for Rassilon's sake, and there really was no need for complications in a matter as simple as this and… oh dear, he was rambling now, wasn't he?
This particular 'tiny, blue pixie-like creature with two heads' was otherwise known as a member of the Eixip species. And according to the massive database of information inside his great, big Time Lord brain, they were a pesky little race originating from the planet Galling in the Boggart galaxy who had a reputation for being… well… pesky. And annoying. And causing all sorts of chaos everywhere it went. Hmm… a bit like him actually. The causing chaos part anyway. A hectic game of chase ensued… which involved everyone in the department running around the entire floor – their HQ – like total idiots. There were lots of wiped computer files, broken bits of alien tech, plenty of shouting and scattered bits of paperwork in the process. Now that had been fun.
Thinking about it, perhaps it was time for a department change… He'd heard the Fielding department's job involved an awful lot of running, danger and trouble, and, to be honest with you, he was getting… bored and restless of being Researcher No. 23 and spending day in and day out researching and sorting alien tech. Plus, he'd know exactly what to do in situations like this – the field agents dealt with all of this sort of stuff all the time.
The Weevil suddenly let out a guttural growl which revealed a set of sharp, yellowing teeth, snapping the Doctor out of his musings and back into the real world.
Much to his surprise, the Weevil had not actually pounced on him, attacked him and killed him like the wild, pink beast it was – well, judging by the nasty injuries its accomplice had caused to one of the patients. Instead, it kept its distance and just… stared at him.
Two, no, three theories popped up into his head: a) that old Earth saying was right, first impressions weren't everything, b) the Weevil was going to pounce and take a chunk or two out of him any second now, c) he was one very, very lucky person, or d) the Weevil had taken a shine to him and his charming looks, deciding not to hurt him. He just hoped that the correct theory wasn't b) because he'd not only lost (…dropped) the brown sack but the tranquiliser, torch and earpiece too, meaning he'd no way to restrain the Weevil at all – or contact one Captain Jack Harkness or anyone else, for that matter.
Speaking of Jack, where was Sir Flirts-a-lot anyway? He hadn't seen (or heard) hide or hair of him – not even a gunshot – for the past… ooh… five minutes and twenty-seven seconds (not that he was counting, of course). He was beginning to suspect that Jack had abandoned him and left him to fend for himself. Hmm…
Ah, he was rambling again – and not even rambling aloud, at that!
As if prompting him, the Weevil hissed a little.
"Oh! Hello there! Sorry about that, caught up in a bit of a ramble with myself. Tend to be zoned out whenever I am. Which happens quite often. Very often. Very, very often. As often as often can be. More than often, even. I love a good ramble, me. Could talk for planet Earth, I could. In fact, I already have! And not many people can go round saying that. Weeeeell, I lie… nobody else can go round saying that. Except Rose - spoke for the entire human race on Christmas day. Back in the other universe… where Weevils are orangey brown and not neon pink – or so I've heard. Which reminds me, I really should be up there making sure Rose is OK and not down here talking to you. Saying that, you're not much of a talker yourself now, are you?"
The Weevil continued staring at him, apparently moving closer to him. The Doctor backed away, the Weevil followed him. He moved a little to the side and so did the Weevil. He shifted over to the right… the Weevil followed.
"Anyway! Where were we? I was just about to introduce myself, wasn't I? Well, I was planning to... Anyway, I'm the Doctor and I come in peace. And you are?" The Weevil didn't respond; the Doctor would've been very surprised if it had, to be honest. "Oh well, I guess I'll just have to call you Steve or… Bob. Yes… Bob. What do you think? Yes? No? Well, I think it suits you perfectly! Bob it is, then!"
They were both slowly going round in circles now, much like wrestlers did in a wrestling ring. He could tell the Weevil was getting impatient, the reality that – unfortunately for him – b) was most probably the right hypothesis dawning on him. And that meant he had some serious thinking to do. If he had no tranquilliser, no sack, no torch and seemingly no Captain Jack to jump in and save the day – not that he needed any saving, of course - then what could he do? 'Cos something told him the Weevil wasn't just going to leave him alone. Think. Think Think.
"A bit of a change of subject, but have I ever told you about Rome? Lovely place for holiday, Rome is. Especially Ancient Rome – been there twice, once with Rose and another with Donna. Have to say, both were not very relaxing experiences. The complete opposite of 'relaxing', in fact. First shot at Rome with Rose was a bit of a downer. I was sent to do battle a lion in the Colosseum – weeeeell, get slaughtered by one anyway. However, as you can probably tell by me standing here, I survived. I bet you're just dying to find out how. No? Thought as much, but I'll tell you anyway. Well, it went something along the lines of this."
He raised his Sonic Pen. Sensing danger, the Weevil leapt. The Doctor pressed the button. The pink beast grabbed hold of the Doctor's sleeve. A low hum filled the air, within it holding a pitch powerful enough to affect the Weevil but not strong enough to affect the human – or half-human, half-Time Lord – ear. Almost instantly, the Weevil froze, dropping to the floor, unconscious. The Doctor just about managed to cushion its fall, grinning slightly – it looked like Weevils worked on the same frequency as lions too. *
And that was the moment when one Captain Jack Harkness decided to make his none too dramatic entrance…
Mickey jogged up the corridors, Gwen following, looking for any signs of the Weevil. It was nowhere to be seen. That couldn't be right. He'd just seen it a second ago. "Where'd it go?"
One handy hairpin and one badly fitted lock later, Jackie Andrea Suzette Tyler burst out the Ladies toilets with a less-than-satisfied scowl on her face. The only thing she was even in the least bit happy about, this very moment, was that watching all those scenes in the films where they'd pick the lock to get out of wherever they were had actually came in handy. And who said TV was good for nothing!
"I'll have them Torchwood know, I can look after myself perfectly fine, thank you very much," she muttered darkly. All she'd wanted to do was see her daughter again, yet she'd been gabbled some nonsense about insects or weevils or something to by… Martha and Gwen and then pushed and locked in the toilets. Charming. Well, she was never going back in there again – she wasn't going to let them if they tried it again.
Jackie carefully fastened her hairpin back into her hair - but that was when she looked up and locked gazes with the hungry, dilated black eyes of a Weevil.
Screaming, she charged straight back into the toilets.
"…There," Gwen said, eyes widening slightly, head nodding in the direction of the feminine scream.
Ianto sat in front of the receptionist's computer, idly playing – and winning – a game of solitaire. For some reason or another, everyone else in the vicinity had decided to sit there and be completely silent, their ears being filled with only the sound of Ianto clickety-clicking the mouse and occasionally tapping the keyboard. A boy dropped his Nintendo; everyone stopped to stare at him.
Breaking the silence came a loud rapping at one of the doors leading to a stairwell. Well, it couldn't be Jack or the… other Doctor – they'd have knocked at the door going down to the basement/boiler room, not this one - and neither could it be Gwen and Mickey – he'd just spoken to them. He highly doubted it was the real Doctor and Rose, so Martha seemed the only possible person at the moment.
Alright, if he was honest, the knock was just a little bit too loud and a little bit too rough to be Martha, but since when did Weevils knock on doors? Since when were Weevils even polite enough to knock? Exactly.
Ianto unlocked the door, inching it open.
"Martha! Long time no-" He slammed the door shut again. OK. Apparently, they were polite enough to knock at doors - weevils wielding fire extinguishers, at that. He leaned back against the door, listening to the Weevil's hisses as it banged the fire extinguisher against the door in an attempt to get it open.
"Jack," Ianto said, connecting with him via the earpiece, "we have a bit of a situation."
"Well, so 'ave we: the Doctor's too scrawny to lift up this Weevil," Captain Jack teased.
"Oi!" protested the metacrisis Doctor.
"There's a Weevil with a fire extinguisher behind one of the doors. And before you ask, there was a knock at the door… so I opened it. It knocked, Jack, Weevils don't knock as far I know."
"But this one did, and you thought it was Martha?"
"Get in touch with Mickey and Gwen. 'Cos unless there's three Weevils on the loose, and not two, they haven't caught their Weevil..."
"Tell Mickey and Gwen, got it."
He broke the connection, trying to link up with Gwen or Mickey's earpiece. Instead, his ears were greeted by another knocking. This time, it was coming from the hospital's entrance doors.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming." He walked over to the locked doors. His eyes widened immensely. There, in front of him, a dozen men in black smash the glass of the doors and charged into the building, thundering past Ianto.
"In! In! In!" yelled one of the men in black.
The Torchwood of this universe, however, were apparently not polite enough to knock on doors.
"Don't look at me," Aryl said, hands up in surrender, walking in after them, "I tried to stop them. I only told them to come collect them, not raid the hospital…"
"How do you think they'll react when they find out there's only two Weevils?" Ianto mused.
"I'm warnin' ya, I'm armed!" a female shouted threateningly, fear lacing her voice, as she banged against the door. The familiar voice was coming from inside the Ladies. "I've seen worse than you! I've seen Slickeen an' Zybermen an' all sorts! S- So don't think I'm scared of you, you… big, ugly, pink thing!"
"Jacks?" Mickey called, stood next to the door. He exchanged a small glance of puzzlement with Gwen.
"MICKEY!" came a screech.
There was a clatter of metal hitting tiles and a door flapping open, followed by a blur of yellow and blue envelope Mickey in a big bear hug. Jackie pulled away from the embrace to look at him with wide, mascara coated eyes.
"'tsoitmust''msogladyoucame!" she gabbled breathlessly. Mickey nodded slowly, having not understood a word Jackie had just said.
"Jackie, love, we need to get you somewhere safe, before the… ugly pink thing comes back," Gwen said, putting a comforting hand on Jackie's arm, obviously unaware of the 12 members of Torchwood storming in, guns blazing, taking 'care' of the situation downstairs.
"To hell am I goin' back in there!" Jackie protested defiantly, catching onto Gwen's motives. "It was bad enough when you locked me up in there last time."
"You could always go to Rose an' the Doctor?" Mickey suggested. "I mean, I dunno what's goin' on in there an' all but…"
"Come on then," Gwen said, smiling at Mickey's idea. "Let's get there quickly before pink-head comes back." She turned to Rose's mother. "Jackie, what room did you say Rose was in?"
"Jack! Just the person I was looking for…" the metacrisis Doctor said to Jack brightly, "ten minutes ago."
"Everything's going to be just fine¸ don't you worry," Martha assured, checking the heart monitor and making sure the patient was in a stable condition. "Just… go to sleep. The creature's been taken care of." She lied; she didn't know what was even going on out there. "I'll be right back."
Smiling reassuringly, she squeezed the patient and left the room, shutting the door behind her. She took off down the corridor, heading for downstairs to find out what exactly was going on because no one seemed to be informing her of anything.
A/N:*Any one who's read zeh Doctor Who novel, The Stone Rose, will know what in the name of HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'm on about. ;D
This chapter was supposed to be, ooh, at least two and a half pages longer but I've edited it into the next chapter… which vill be up tomorrow. Being nagged and threatened away from the computer as I speak. D;
This 'fic and anything in a ten mile radius will spontaneously combust in the next few seconds. The emergency exits are nowhere, nowhere and… nowhere. I hope you have enjoyed the read; any feedback can be given to the author via the green button below. Thank you and goodbye.