Firefly/Doctor Who crossover fic: A Different Kind of Companion: A Lesson in History (5/9)

[locker_monster]

Title: A Different Kind of Companion: A Lesson in History (5/9)
Rating: PG
Characters: Ten, Inara
Timeline: Post "The Runaway Bride" for Doctor Who and post "Serenity" the movie for Firefly
Summary: After an unplanned detour to Earth's past, the Doctor and Inara must stop the creation of a disruptive paradox.
Disclaimer: Only in some wacky alternative reality would I own Doctor Who or Firefly.
A/N: The long-awaited sequel to "A Different Kind of Companion". A huge thanks goes out to my beta, browncoat_2x2 , who is made of awesome.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four.





Aside from the era, having tea with Smith was like having tea with any other client Inara had entertained over the years. She listened intently and laughed politely where necessary. When an unfamiliar topic came up, which was often considering she was a five hundred years out of date, she faked her way through an engaging response and deftly changed topics. The Doctor helpfully picked up on the topics that couldn’t be answered with a blanket response and offered his own opinions. It was amusing to see that men hadn’t changed at all over the centuries. Smith did his best to impress her with stories of the many feats he had performed during his years with the Royal Navy. A few times through tea he brushed his hand against hers, though fumbling most times to be in the right position when it happened. Smith struck her as the type of man who was proud of his work but that was all he had.

Through the hours they spent in the café, Inara began to gain a better feel for this period. The atmosphere wasn’t too different from home. War had ravaged the people six years ago, quite similarly back in her time. The population was still living with the events that had changed their world.

More than once, she had caught herself staring at the Doctor in wonderment. She was seeing just a small slice of how he constantly lived his life. Visiting times long gone and speaking with people who had uttered their last words long before she had even existed. While travelling with Mal in Serenity had shown her aspects of life she never would have seen on her own, with the Doctor she was seeing parts of the galaxy no human would ever see.

It was easy to see how someone could get lost in his world.

“You seem to have a fair knowledge of science, Appleton,” said Smith as another pot of tea was brought to the table. Hearing the Doctor be addressed by an alias was odd. Inara felt a compulsion to look around for the man Smith was speaking to.

“I’ve picked up a few things here and there,” the Doctor said modestly.

“Ah yes, life in the Service. You never know where you’ll end up next, hmm? But as a man of science do you believe all that Matthews claims? An inexperienced man can be fooled by anything he doesn’t understand.”

Inara quietly sipped her tea. This was the opportunity the Doctor was waiting for.

“Truthfully, Matthew’s ray is promising, but the functions it performs can be achieved by contemporary science. The man isn’t presenting anything new. It’s likely he takes an established concept and tweaks it enough to say it’s his own. He experiments with gadgets and sells the results, good or bad.”

“A scientific trickster.” Smith sighed unhappily and dropped a large spoonful of sugar into his tea cup. “He’s not simply playing with our lives but all the souls in the British Empire. Wars will come and we will be ill prepared.”

“Wouldn’t it be more prudent to seek peace rather than stir up further hostilities?” Inara watched with mild interest as Smith continued to add sugar to his tea. The actions of his right hand seemed separate from his mind. War was evidently an unpleasant topic with Smith, whether he was aware of it or not.

“Even the best worlds can’t escape war.” It was the Doctor who replied rather than Smith. The comment was said in passing, but Inara thought she heard a certain sadness in his voice. It made her aware of the very little she knew about the Doctor. If wars raged across the universe it was possible he had seen his fair share.

She chose not to pry further. Now wasn’t the time and she would never force someone to open up about any topic, no matter how dire it was. The end of tea came soon after, leaving Inara no chance to pursue the matter even if she wanted to. Smith hailed a cab and directed the driver to the parliament buildings. As they approached, Inara once again took notice of the familiarity of the architecture. It was as if the buildings had been transplanted from Earth-that-Was to Londinium.

Smith took the lead, signing them in as his guests as they passed through security. He directed them to a large meeting room, where inside a handful of people were already waiting and discussing. A few addressed Smith with friendly greetings, but Inara and the Doctor went largely ignored. It seemed likely they were mistaken for Smith’s assistants and didn’t need any attention.

The Doctor appeared quite pleased with this and made a slow circuit of the room. Inara could see he was noting who was who. It reminded her of numerous parties and functions she had attended over the years as a Companion. She had gotten into the habit of scanning the room to see who was there. Even now she found herself appraising those in attendance. Most were men but there were a few women, clearly performing secretarial roles. The men doing most of the talking came off as men in power. Their postures were rigid and they spoke the loudest, like it was their opinion alone that mattered most.

At four o’clock the only sign that the meeting had started was the representatives taking a seat around the large table in the centre of the room; the outspoken men continued to talk. The Doctor took a seat next to Smith, stealing it from another man. With not enough seats around the table, the man was forced to drag a spare one over, but this all occurred unbeknownst to the Doctor. Inara found an empty chair and joined the support staff who were diligently taking notes of what was being said. Though she felt out of place no one paused to ask who she was.

“Can we have some order?” asked one man, his voice slightly raised so he could be heard. His bushy moustache was as grey as his hair. “This is a conference, not a football match.” The table slowly fell quiet. “Thank you. Now, what should be done with Matthews?”

“Throw him into the Thames,” suggested one of the representatives. A low chuckle went around the table and some of the support staff smiled.

“He’s not worth the money,” said Smith. “I have it from a very good source that Matthews has no scientific experience. His inventions merely look promising.”

Inara allowed herself a smile of her own. Smith was quoting the Doctor. Perhaps the Doctor wouldn’t need to say anything at all to these men.

“I was rather surprised to find the inventor should imagine that one would be impressed,” added another man. There were various nods of agreement. “But speaking as a military man, I don’t believe we should dismiss Matthews completely. This ray could be our salvation. Why risk it being sold to the enemy?”

No one spoke to add their own thoughts.

“Sorry.” The Doctor broke the silence and suddenly all eyes were on him. “What’s your name, by the way?”

The man eyed the Doctor cautiously. The front of his jacket was decorated with metals, hinting at a valiant war record. “Major Wimperis, from the Air Ministry.”

“Right. Major Wimperis, in my humble opinion, you should consider that this ray could bring just as much harm to Great Britain if its power was in your hands. You would be able to protect this country and all the other countries in this vast empire, yes, but you would also be subjugating those without power. You might as well turn the Prime Minister into a tyrant.”

The support staff around Inara paused in their writing. A few men at the table exchanged some muttered words.

“And who are you, if I may ask?” Wimperis’ tone was civil but there was an edge to his voice.

“He’s with the government,” said Smith, speaking before the Doctor could even open his mouth.

“We’re all from the government,” countered Wimperis.

“This country isn’t ready for energy weapons,” continued the Doctor, jumping into the fray before more suspicions could be raised. “If you develop one and turn it on your enemies, then your enemies will be spurred to create one of their own. You won’t be fighting wars will bullets anymore.”

“I say that’s an advantage,” said another man at the table. His bald head reflected the lights overhead. “We can save on the manufacturing of metal.” The comment received some laughter, but Inara could still sense the tension in the room. It seemed the Doctor had raised a valid point none of them had wanted to consider.

“You all know what war is like. Invest in Matthews and you’re investing in a new level of combat. Millions won’t just die. Entire countries will be wiped out.”

Hearing the intensity of the Doctor’s words, Inara understood now. The Doctor hadn’t just seen war; he had been a part of one. She had heard a similar quality in Mal’s voice on the rare occasion he spoke about his own battle experiences.

“It is completely possible that Matthews is lying,” said the man with the bushy moustache after a moment.

“And we can’t protect the people with lies,” added Smith.

The representatives began to speak all at once. All around Inara, the support staff with their pads of paper and pens wrote madly to keep up with the chatter. In the excitement, the Doctor left his seat unnoticed. He motioned to Inara and she quietly slipped away to join him. They left the room without anyone calling to them to return. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the empty hall as they went to find an exit.

“You’re not staying to hear what they decide?”

“They won’t invest in Matthews.”

Outside, the afternoon light was brilliant, reflecting off the surface of the Thames River next to the parliament buildings. As they started for the bridge that spanned the river, Inara could just make out a bit of blue that was the TARDIS across the way. “You seem very sure.”

“Well, those men in there won’t, but they’re just representatives. Once that meeting is over, they’ll return to their superiors and debate some more. It’s ultimately up to the government to make the final decision and that could take weeks.”

Boats hummed along the river, small enough to pass underneath the bridge. Most looked like merchant ships, moving goods for commerce. In a way, they were the distant ancestors of the crew, men and women relying on the sturdiness of a ship to make a living. The more Inara saw, the more she could see that though designs changed over time the idea remained the same.

“But they never think to ask the people for their say in this,” mused the Doctor. “Men like Wimperis may believe in protecting the people, but it doesn’t mean the population want what he’s offering.” Inara stole a few glances at the passer-bys on the bridge. A mother walked with her young daughter, the girl clutching a worn doll. A man wearing a felt hat read from the morning paper as he walked, unmindful of what lay in his path. None of them knew what was being discussed behind closed doors at that moment.

“The people elect the officials, putting their trust in seemingly capable hands. The hard decisions are left to those with power.”

But not always, Inara wanted to add, but she saw no need to bring it up. She and the Doctor walked in silence the rest of the way across the bridge. He took her hand at one point, though he made no comment nor did he seem aware that his hand found hers. It appeared to be a force of habit. Inara didn’t shy away. During the minutes it took them to cross the bridge, she felt that she and the Doctor were part of the time, that they were two ordinary people out for a simple walk.

When they came upon the TARDIS, the Doctor let go of her hand to unlock the door. The view of the parliament buildings across the river wasn’t all that different from this morning. Inara wouldn’t have minded to watch the sun set and see it disappear behind the towers, but the Doctor entered the TARDIS and she followed, not wanting to be left behind in 1920s London.

She slowly closed the doors, affording herself one last look at the city. “How do you know Smith and the others won’t change their minds?” Inara glanced over her shoulder at the Doctor. He stood at the top of the ramp, leaning against the railing.

“I don’t.”

“You’re leaving it to chance.”

There must have been a hint of concern in her voice for the Doctor smiled. “Chance is just probability, Inara, and probability is just numbers. The chance of the outcome you want occurring can be greatly improved if all the variables are covered. In other words…”

The Doctor ran up to the console and set the TARDIS in motion. The rise and fall of the engines, a sound becoming so familiar to Inara, infused the room. “We’re going to go straight to the source.”

Keeping up with the Doctor wasn’t just a physical task. It seemed to Inara his thoughts were always racing, approaching every situation from every angle. “You want to convince Matthews not to develop the death ray.”

“Whatever Matthews’ intentions are, he can’t be allowed to market this technology. Earth isn’t ready for this kind of destruction.”

The TARDIS shuddered to a halt. The Doctor bounded out the time machine, leaving their destination beyond the doors a mystery to Inara. With the Doctor so readily to affect the course of human history, she had to wonder how often he did this. How could one man decide what to change and what to leave alone?

She stepped out of the TARDIS to find herself in a bare ante room, the same one from Matthews’ laboratory she quickly realized. The Doctor hoped to have better luck speaking with the man this time around. Through the second door, Inara entered the confines of Matthews’ lab, the faint smell of engine oil lingering in the air.

The room was empty.

Inara paused. The room was empty. The walls were bare of any adornment and the clutter on the work benches was gone. There was no indication that anyone had worked out of this place. The Doctor stopped in front of one of the work benches. The hat he had forgetfully thrown aside earlier that afternoon was the only object to grace the worktable. When he lifted it off the surface a faint circular void in the thin layer of dust on the table was left behind.

“How is this possible?” asked Inara. “We only left a few hours ago.”

The Doctor turned to face her, ready to give an answer, when suddenly a new arrival rushed into the room. The medals on the man’s chest were instantly familiar.

“Major Wimperis,” began the Doctor, his tone light.

The Major scowled at the Doctor, clearly not in the mood for genial greetings. “What have you done with Matthews?” he accused.