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locker_monsterTitle: Home (6/8)
Rating: PG
Characters: Ten, Martha, Ian, Barbara
Timeline: Set during "Blink"
Summary: Stranded in 1969, the Doctor turns to some old friends so he and Martha can return home.
Disclaimer: Nope, these characters still ain't mine.
A/N: Posting this in honour of Doctor Who's 46th anniversary. A shout-out to my beta![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
agapi42. Thank you so much for all your help!
Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five.
The newly christened timey-wimey detector dinged, like it was announcing that a roast in the oven was done cooking. The Doctor and his companions all stopped in their tasks to glance over at the side table where the device sat. The machine dinged again, as if demanding to be picked up.
The Doctor leapt out of his chair, nearly knocking over the custom Autocue he had built, and swept up the device. The spool was spinning at half-speed, but it was the instruments on the other side of the device, a clock and a gauge from a gas meter, that interested him. The numbers on the gauge were slowly increasing as the sensors detected a gradual build-up of artron energy while the hands on the clock shifted forward from the current time, five to six, to a time ten minutes into the future.
Billy Shipton was coming to 1969.
The timey-wimey detector dinged again as he ran out of the Chestertons’ living room and into the front hall where his coat hung from a hat stand. He had one arm shoved into the sleeve of his coat when he ran back into the living room. “Why are you all standing around?” he asked his companions.
Martha looked up from helping Barbara pack away the film camera. The spool of film containing the message they had finished recording sat on the Doctor’s vacated chair. “What? Is that dinging good?”
“Of course it’s good!” Struggling into the other sleeve of his coat, the Doctor shifted the device from one hand to the other. “I’m not cooking eggs.” The front of the detector ended up pointed at Ian and the man took a giant step back. He claimed to have forgiven the Doctor about the incident with the chickens but had obviously grown wary of the device.
“What happens now?” Ian asked.
“We have ten minutes before Billy Shipton lands in 1969. I can track down where he’ll land with the detector, but it could be miles from here. So, allons-y!”
His companions were finally spurred into action. Coats were grabbed and Ian snatched his car keys from the hook by the door. Moments later, they were in the car and headed for parts unknown.
Seated in the back with the detector pointed out of the window, the Doctor put the phone handset to his ear. A sluggish beeping sounded, indicating how close they were to the landing site; not very. The numbers on the gauge continued to increase as the traffic around them rumbled on.
“I don’t get it,” said Martha. “If a Weeping Angel touched Billy, shouldn’t he be here by now? How can you track something that’s over in the blink of an eye?”
The Doctor kept his ear to the handset as he glanced over at Martha. “The transfer only feels instantaneous. The detector picked up on the initial displacement of artron energy but we’re tracking down the wake of that displacement.” With Martha away working at the shop so often he hadn’t had an opportunity to explain it to her. He settled on a simple analogy. “It’s like a shot being fired from a cannon. The shot itself is over and done within a second, but the shockwave still has to travel.”
The beeping from the handset quickened in its tempo. The Doctor shouted for Ian to take a left and they barely made the corner without incident. Martha didn’t ask any more questions but that didn’t mean she was satisfied with the answers.
The timey-wimey detector dinged again. The name had seemed apt when taking into consideration how complicated the whole operation was. And it was more fun to say than “artron energy displacement detector”.
“Why does it keep dinging then?” wondered Barbara. She looked over her shoulder at the Doctor. “You just said we’re tracking the wake, not the source.”
The beeping in his ear grew steadier and he told Ian to keep heading east. With his other hand, he gave the detector a good shake. “It’s being temperamental. Just ignore it.” The device dinged again in protest.
As all the clocks in London came around to matching the time displayed on the timey-wimey detector, they found Billy Shipton, or at least the spot where he had landed. The Doctor had Ian pull up by an alleyway.
“Keep the engine running. Martha and I can look after this.”
He didn’t expect any difficulties, but the Doctor didn’t want to get the Chestertons into any more trouble.
He and Martha got out of the car and hurried into the alleyway. A stable beeping from the handset told the Doctor they had reached their destination. After a few steps, he noticed a very disoriented young black man leaning against the wall of the alley. The infamous DI Billy Shipton, come to call at last.
“Welcome,” the Doctor said as he and Martha reached the young man, who had slid down the alley wall to sit on the ground.
“Where am I?” asked Billy. The young man looked like he was going to be sick.
The Doctor sat down next to him and explained everything.
Thick steam rose off the surface of the tea as the hot liquid made contact with the cool evening air. The Doctor handed the cup to Billy and the young man accepted it silently, though he didn’t bring the cup to his lips. Instead, he stared up at the stars. They didn’t sparkle as brightly as they could have – the light pollution from London was too great – but standing in Ian and Barbara’s garden, the stars were the one familiar thing in a strange land.
They were both men out of their time, but the Doctor was more used to this sort of thing. Even having explained the situation to Billy, he didn’t expect the young man to fully accept what was going on and what was needed of him, at least not right away.
So he too said nothing and stared up at the stars. He knew Martha, Ian, and Barbara were all sitting in the living room, drinking tea and generally just waiting. The four of them had been working towards this moment and, now that it had finally come, there was nothing else to do. The Doctor hadn’t expected the TARDIS to appear at the same second as Billy but, now that he thought about it, he had no idea when his ship would be arriving in 1969.
“Are you going to stand there all night?” Billy asked, speaking his first words since they left the alley. The stars, with their dimmed lustre, couldn’t hold the young man’s attention forever and he glanced over at the Doctor.
“Not all night,” the Doctor said. “The sun will come up and then it’ll be day.”
Billy clearly wasn’t in the mood for nonsensical answers. He fixed the Doctor with a glare that could send guilty perpetrators into a fit of tears. “How do you expect me to believe anything you say? You have no proof.”
There was no mistaking the fact that Billy was a police detective. “If you want evidence, I have an entire folder full, but it’s still up to you, Billy Shipton, to decide whether or not to trust me.
“And all I have to do is deliver a message to Sally Sparrow? Why can’t you leave the message for her in some place safe and then have someone else deliver it when the time is right?” It would have been the sensible, and less selfish, solution, but time was a fickle thing.
“It has to be you.” Billy opened his mouth to speak again, but the Doctor cut him off, sensing what the young man wanted to say. “1969 may seem like the past to you, but it’s actually your future. And in your future, in 2007, you’re the one who gives Sally the right clue. Everything we’re experiencing now has already been influenced by events that happen in forty years to come. I’m sorry, Billy, but you’re the key. It’s not just the solar system at stake. The fabric of time and space has to remain constant as well.”
Billy looked ready to throw his cup of tea against the nearest wall. Showing some restraint, he stalked away from the Doctor, though he couldn’t put much space between them given the limited size of the garden.
Kicking at the grass with the toe of his trainer, the Doctor shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he waited for Billy to calm down. From a casual point of view, he wasn’t asking much of the young man. All Billy had to do was live out his life for the next forty years and then speak with Sally Sparrow on the right day at the right hour. But, in truth, the Doctor was giving Billy a burden he would have to carry for the next forty years. Billy Shipton wouldn’t be able to speak with his friends or family, even as he approached the right era. He would have to give up his identity to avoid a paradox, all just to deliver a few words. At the end of it all, the Doctor would be able to go home, but Billy would have no such chance.
Home. It was such a subjective term. Was home just a house or a planet or even the right era? If those were the rules, then, technically speaking, the Doctor’s home was truly gone. But even lost in this time period, he didn’t feel that out of place and he knew part of the reason why waited indoors.
“You said the fate of the solar system rests on me.” The Doctor turned around, finding a calmer Billy Shipton. He had drunk his tea and now held an empty cup.
“You and Sally, even her friend Larry.”
“And I can never go home again.” It seemed less like a question and more like Billy trying to cement the concept in his mind.
“Can any of us truly go home?” asked the Doctor. His tone was light but it couldn’t mask the weight of the statement. Things and people changed. By the time Billy reached 2007 again, he would be a different person.
Once again, Billy cut through the Doctor’s roundabout words with the efficiency only possessed by a police officer. “But we’d be saving lives?”
“Billions,” the Doctor replied without hesitation.
Billy sighed, but fixed the Doctor with an earnest stare. “Explain everything to me again. But slower this time.”
They returned to the house, leaving the stars behind.
Rating: PG
Characters: Ten, Martha, Ian, Barbara
Timeline: Set during "Blink"
Summary: Stranded in 1969, the Doctor turns to some old friends so he and Martha can return home.
Disclaimer: Nope, these characters still ain't mine.
A/N: Posting this in honour of Doctor Who's 46th anniversary. A shout-out to my beta
agapi42. Thank you so much for all your help!Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five.
The newly christened timey-wimey detector dinged, like it was announcing that a roast in the oven was done cooking. The Doctor and his companions all stopped in their tasks to glance over at the side table where the device sat. The machine dinged again, as if demanding to be picked up.
The Doctor leapt out of his chair, nearly knocking over the custom Autocue he had built, and swept up the device. The spool was spinning at half-speed, but it was the instruments on the other side of the device, a clock and a gauge from a gas meter, that interested him. The numbers on the gauge were slowly increasing as the sensors detected a gradual build-up of artron energy while the hands on the clock shifted forward from the current time, five to six, to a time ten minutes into the future.
Billy Shipton was coming to 1969.
The timey-wimey detector dinged again as he ran out of the Chestertons’ living room and into the front hall where his coat hung from a hat stand. He had one arm shoved into the sleeve of his coat when he ran back into the living room. “Why are you all standing around?” he asked his companions.
Martha looked up from helping Barbara pack away the film camera. The spool of film containing the message they had finished recording sat on the Doctor’s vacated chair. “What? Is that dinging good?”
“Of course it’s good!” Struggling into the other sleeve of his coat, the Doctor shifted the device from one hand to the other. “I’m not cooking eggs.” The front of the detector ended up pointed at Ian and the man took a giant step back. He claimed to have forgiven the Doctor about the incident with the chickens but had obviously grown wary of the device.
“What happens now?” Ian asked.
“We have ten minutes before Billy Shipton lands in 1969. I can track down where he’ll land with the detector, but it could be miles from here. So, allons-y!”
His companions were finally spurred into action. Coats were grabbed and Ian snatched his car keys from the hook by the door. Moments later, they were in the car and headed for parts unknown.
Seated in the back with the detector pointed out of the window, the Doctor put the phone handset to his ear. A sluggish beeping sounded, indicating how close they were to the landing site; not very. The numbers on the gauge continued to increase as the traffic around them rumbled on.
“I don’t get it,” said Martha. “If a Weeping Angel touched Billy, shouldn’t he be here by now? How can you track something that’s over in the blink of an eye?”
The Doctor kept his ear to the handset as he glanced over at Martha. “The transfer only feels instantaneous. The detector picked up on the initial displacement of artron energy but we’re tracking down the wake of that displacement.” With Martha away working at the shop so often he hadn’t had an opportunity to explain it to her. He settled on a simple analogy. “It’s like a shot being fired from a cannon. The shot itself is over and done within a second, but the shockwave still has to travel.”
The beeping from the handset quickened in its tempo. The Doctor shouted for Ian to take a left and they barely made the corner without incident. Martha didn’t ask any more questions but that didn’t mean she was satisfied with the answers.
The timey-wimey detector dinged again. The name had seemed apt when taking into consideration how complicated the whole operation was. And it was more fun to say than “artron energy displacement detector”.
“Why does it keep dinging then?” wondered Barbara. She looked over her shoulder at the Doctor. “You just said we’re tracking the wake, not the source.”
The beeping in his ear grew steadier and he told Ian to keep heading east. With his other hand, he gave the detector a good shake. “It’s being temperamental. Just ignore it.” The device dinged again in protest.
As all the clocks in London came around to matching the time displayed on the timey-wimey detector, they found Billy Shipton, or at least the spot where he had landed. The Doctor had Ian pull up by an alleyway.
“Keep the engine running. Martha and I can look after this.”
He didn’t expect any difficulties, but the Doctor didn’t want to get the Chestertons into any more trouble.
He and Martha got out of the car and hurried into the alleyway. A stable beeping from the handset told the Doctor they had reached their destination. After a few steps, he noticed a very disoriented young black man leaning against the wall of the alley. The infamous DI Billy Shipton, come to call at last.
“Welcome,” the Doctor said as he and Martha reached the young man, who had slid down the alley wall to sit on the ground.
“Where am I?” asked Billy. The young man looked like he was going to be sick.
The Doctor sat down next to him and explained everything.
Thick steam rose off the surface of the tea as the hot liquid made contact with the cool evening air. The Doctor handed the cup to Billy and the young man accepted it silently, though he didn’t bring the cup to his lips. Instead, he stared up at the stars. They didn’t sparkle as brightly as they could have – the light pollution from London was too great – but standing in Ian and Barbara’s garden, the stars were the one familiar thing in a strange land.
They were both men out of their time, but the Doctor was more used to this sort of thing. Even having explained the situation to Billy, he didn’t expect the young man to fully accept what was going on and what was needed of him, at least not right away.
So he too said nothing and stared up at the stars. He knew Martha, Ian, and Barbara were all sitting in the living room, drinking tea and generally just waiting. The four of them had been working towards this moment and, now that it had finally come, there was nothing else to do. The Doctor hadn’t expected the TARDIS to appear at the same second as Billy but, now that he thought about it, he had no idea when his ship would be arriving in 1969.
“Are you going to stand there all night?” Billy asked, speaking his first words since they left the alley. The stars, with their dimmed lustre, couldn’t hold the young man’s attention forever and he glanced over at the Doctor.
“Not all night,” the Doctor said. “The sun will come up and then it’ll be day.”
Billy clearly wasn’t in the mood for nonsensical answers. He fixed the Doctor with a glare that could send guilty perpetrators into a fit of tears. “How do you expect me to believe anything you say? You have no proof.”
There was no mistaking the fact that Billy was a police detective. “If you want evidence, I have an entire folder full, but it’s still up to you, Billy Shipton, to decide whether or not to trust me.
“And all I have to do is deliver a message to Sally Sparrow? Why can’t you leave the message for her in some place safe and then have someone else deliver it when the time is right?” It would have been the sensible, and less selfish, solution, but time was a fickle thing.
“It has to be you.” Billy opened his mouth to speak again, but the Doctor cut him off, sensing what the young man wanted to say. “1969 may seem like the past to you, but it’s actually your future. And in your future, in 2007, you’re the one who gives Sally the right clue. Everything we’re experiencing now has already been influenced by events that happen in forty years to come. I’m sorry, Billy, but you’re the key. It’s not just the solar system at stake. The fabric of time and space has to remain constant as well.”
Billy looked ready to throw his cup of tea against the nearest wall. Showing some restraint, he stalked away from the Doctor, though he couldn’t put much space between them given the limited size of the garden.
Kicking at the grass with the toe of his trainer, the Doctor shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he waited for Billy to calm down. From a casual point of view, he wasn’t asking much of the young man. All Billy had to do was live out his life for the next forty years and then speak with Sally Sparrow on the right day at the right hour. But, in truth, the Doctor was giving Billy a burden he would have to carry for the next forty years. Billy Shipton wouldn’t be able to speak with his friends or family, even as he approached the right era. He would have to give up his identity to avoid a paradox, all just to deliver a few words. At the end of it all, the Doctor would be able to go home, but Billy would have no such chance.
Home. It was such a subjective term. Was home just a house or a planet or even the right era? If those were the rules, then, technically speaking, the Doctor’s home was truly gone. But even lost in this time period, he didn’t feel that out of place and he knew part of the reason why waited indoors.
“You said the fate of the solar system rests on me.” The Doctor turned around, finding a calmer Billy Shipton. He had drunk his tea and now held an empty cup.
“You and Sally, even her friend Larry.”
“And I can never go home again.” It seemed less like a question and more like Billy trying to cement the concept in his mind.
“Can any of us truly go home?” asked the Doctor. His tone was light but it couldn’t mask the weight of the statement. Things and people changed. By the time Billy reached 2007 again, he would be a different person.
Once again, Billy cut through the Doctor’s roundabout words with the efficiency only possessed by a police officer. “But we’d be saving lives?”
“Billions,” the Doctor replied without hesitation.
Billy sighed, but fixed the Doctor with an earnest stare. “Explain everything to me again. But slower this time.”
They returned to the house, leaving the stars behind.
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no subject
Date: 2009-11-28 03:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-28 11:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-28 09:56 pm (UTC)Poor Billy -- I mean, I know things turn out okay for him, but still having his whole life disrupted like that.
I wonder how long it does take for the Tardis to show up?
You're doing a wonderful job with this story!
no subject
Date: 2009-11-28 11:36 pm (UTC)Thanks! It was a blast to write.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-29 12:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-29 12:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-29 01:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-29 02:52 am (UTC)I think technobabble is the one problem with sci-fi. The science is fake science for the most part, so your characters have to sound like they know what they're saying to make it seem like the science is important and believable.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-29 06:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-30 04:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-30 05:44 am (UTC)