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April 20th, 2008
07:56 am - Chapter Seven : Boom
Pym led them briskly through the facility. “Doctor,” he rasped, absently massaging his throat, “What did you mean when you said you were trying to save my race?”
The Doctor lifted an eyebrow. “Have you ever read The Shadow Proclamation?” He shook his head. “That’s the problem nowadays,” he said aside, to Rose. “The Universities just aren’t what they should be. I made my students memorize the essential bits.”
Rose grinned. Learn something new every day. She swung their clasped hands just a little bit; not too much, or he’d be bouncing off the walls. Sure enough, he answered her grin and the pressure of her hand with an extra bouncy step.
“The Shadow Proclamation,” the Doctor quoted, “in section three hundred fourteen, paragraph one thousand forty-two states: Except as specifically provided to the contrary in the last part of subdivision “a,” part one hundred thirty-seven of this section, the terms "murder" and "murder by the defendant" as used in this section to define capital offenses mean murder as defined in Section 47T-6-2, subdivision “a”, part twenty-two, but not as defined in Section 47T-6-2, subdivision “a”, parts twenty-three and twenty-four. Subject to the provisions of Section 47T-5-41, murder as defined in Section 47AT-6-2, subdivision “a” parts twenty-three and twenty-four, as well as murder as defined in Section 47T-6-2, subdivision “a,” part twenty-two, subject races may bear the burden of acts made by discrete populations of said race, should it be determined that said race acted in collusion, and condoned such murder and mayhem upon a given victim race.”
Rose gasped. “You made them memorize that?”
“Hello! We’re talking about knowing if what you’re doing is going to bring a whole suitcase of bad down on your entire planet!” The Doctor grimaced. “The Shadow Proclamation … it’s not pretty.”
Oh. “Seen it, then?”
He looked away. When he looked back, there was a rueful smile on his lips, but an old pain in his eyes. “Yeah.”
~~~
Rose crinkled her nose. The smell of chemical manufacturing wafted in the air. They approached a set of high metal doors, flanked by two Angels. “Pass code fourteen-flame-twenty-one,” Pym called out as they breezed by. The doors whirred open and Pym lead them around a corner and into an office.
It was a small space, crowded with a paper-strewn desk, monitors and shelves. The Doctor slouched onto a corner of the desk, chin cocked onto his fist. “Hmm. If I’m not mistaken,”
“…and you never are…” Rose muttered.
The Doctor shot her a wink. “I caught a whiff of ammonium nitrate.” He rubbed a finger along side of his nose. “And hydrocarbon, of course.” In a sudden flurry of movement, he flung out an arm and swept everything off the desk, papers flying everywhere and then sifting softly to the ground. “We don’t want to be around when this goes off!”
Pym squawked at the destruction of his deskwork, and then colored at the Doctor’s raised eyebrow. In a huff, he turned his back and spoke into a small handheld, “Polk, gather up all the staff and meet me over in Conference oh-thirteen, pronto! Yes, I mean now!”
“Alright, everyone! Empty your pockets!” The Doctor dug deep into his trouser pockets. “Let’s see what we have to work with.”
Rose shrugged and laid down the Cozy Hat and her phone. Alvie was empty-handed but Gella had a stub of a candle and some wooden matches. The Doctor added his jelly babies, the honey beetles, his sonic screwdriver, a velvet bag that was found to contain an assortment of glass marbles, two Nehi Grape bottle caps, a stethoscope, a small, worn book of the collected works of John Milton, the psychic paper and a ball of string.
“Oooh.” The Doctor’s fingers flitted over the assembly. “This is lovely. Yes… oh, yes.”
Rose stared down at the collection of rubbish. “Yeah?”
The Doctor pocketed most of his items, and handed Rose back her phone. Rose looked down at the bag of marbles, candle, matches, ball of string and the Cozy Hat. “Aw! You’re not gonna use your lovely hat?”
~~~
“Easy, now, easy,” Rose hissed.
Alvie teetered back and forth, and the Doctor, standing on Alvie’s shoulders, chirped and grabbed onto the support beam. With a twitch, he threaded the string through the frame, clamped the end of the string in his teeth and, hand over hand, swung down to the floor. He held his palm out to Rose. “Hat!”
Rose sighed and handed over the hat.
They were in a far, dim, quiet corner of Angel Manufacturing. The Doctor had directed them to gather together several large drums of chemicals and now had set up his device: one end of the string was tied to a handrail, then looped up to the support beam and back down again. The Doctor had melted the bottom of the candle stub and set it firmly on a step, near the taunt string. “Mr. Pym,” he hissed, “how far to that hangar?”
“Five minutes or so.”
“Right.” Prying up the lid of one of the drums, the Doctor scooped out a handful of what looked like petroleum jelly. With a smile, he began smearing in onto the hat. “Here’s our bomb.”
Gella smiled. “You’re gonna blow up God with a knit hat?”
“Yep!” The Doctor tied the hat’s strings together and plopped the marbles inside. Frowning in calculation, he tied the hat to the loose string, passed the string over the still unlit candle and tied it to another rung of the handrail. With a final nod, he scraped the last of the petroleum jelly off his fingers and smeared it over the string that went from the hat and over the candle.
Rose looked at the set-up, following the string with her eyes. “We light the candle, it burns the string, which catches the hat, the string burns through, the weight of the marbles swings the flaming hat into the barrels and … boom?”
“Rose!” The Doctor grinned hugely, “I’ll make a demolition expert of you yet!” He picked up a match. “Now, since I can run faster than any of you, I will light the match. Pym, you lead the way to the hanger; I’ll be right behind you.” He struck the match and turned, “Go! Now! Run!”
With a cut off cry, Pym whirled away, followed by Alvie and Gella. As they scurried through the doors, Rose turned to look back. The Doctor, watching her, nodded, lit the candle and took off. “Go!” he waved her, frantically. “Run! RUN!”
She turned just in time to see Gella’s skirt disappear around a corner. Running full out, Rose caught up with them, the sound of the Doctor’s plimsolls slapping behind her. Pym raced through a door and then stopped, gasping for breath, his hand on a control panel. As Rose and the Doctor flew through, he hit the panel and the door closed. “This way!” he huffed, turning down another corridor.
They burst through the hangar doors and the explosion shook the facility, a subterranean shudder that passed through the floor decking and vibrated ominously in her bones. Rose looked up into the Doctor’s face. A claxon horn blasted. Warning lights painted his skin and reflected in his eyes; they widened and sparkled with red-lit glee. “Boom!” he whispered.
“Here! Over here!” Pym led the way toward a small, streamlined vehicle.
“Pym, get Gella and Alvie strapped in! Rose, up here with me!” The Doctor threw himself toward the cockpit.
Rose sat down dazedly in the co-pilot seat. “What do you want me up here for?”
The Doctor was flipping switches. He looked at her sideways, eyebrows raised. “Well, I don’t want to sit next to Pym, hm?"
Rose blew out a breath, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and buckled her straps. “So, you can pilot this, right?”
“Weelll,” the Doctor flipped another switch, “like riding a bike, eh?”
“When was the last time you flew a space ship?” She waved her hand. “I mean, other than the Tardis?”
The Doctor flipped another switch and poked a button. “Can’t have been more than a couple of hundred years!” He pulled on an ear. “Or, around that.” With the flick of a hand, he stuffed his glasses on his face, poked another button and called over his shoulder. “Ready?”
“Yes! Yes!” Pym shouted forward. “Get us out of here!”
“Right!” Wriggling his eyebrows at her, the Doctor flipped a final switch. Rose was plastered against her seat in a roar of motion, the Doctor's "Woo-Hoo!" bouncing around the cabin.
Rose clung to her armrests, her own shout echoing his. “Go, Luke Skywalker!”
The little space ship shot down the hanger, through an energy field and out into space. The Doctor, fingertips brushing the controls, looped the ship up and around. The bulk of the Facility filled their viewport. Red gouts of flame burst into the darkness of space and then guttered out, leaving a dark, wound-like hole in the side of the massive space station.
A figure spun out at them, hitting the viewport with a thump. Rose jumped, her heart in her throat. For just a moment, an Angel hung grimly onto the ship, its eyes staring coldly and its wings beating ineffectually in the vacuum. Then it was gone.
Closing her eyes, Rose drew in a shuddering breath.
Fingertips brushed the back of her hand, and she flipped her palm up, fingers wide. He laced his hand in hers, closed his fingers gently and, after a breath, ran his thumb up the side of her index finger. She could hear him flipping more switches. He leaned his body a bit, reaching for something with his other hand. He did not let go of her.
Another breath and she opened her eyes. She was shaking slightly in delayed reaction. One by one, she relaxed her tensed muscles and looked out at the magnificent view. Gella’s planet turned in a bed of black velvet and stars. “I never get tired of this,” she sighed. “It’s so beautiful.” She turned and caught him watching her.
He swept his gaze out the viewport. “Beautiful,” he nodded.
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Comments:
i love this story. They are so real:) Great :))
Thanks. That was the feel I was going for -- like watching an episode.
![[User Picture]](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/92541836/11232712) | | From: | ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) bippy24 |
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| Date: | April 24th, 2008 01:54 am (UTC) |
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I love this! I adore that the Doctor used the hat as a bomb, hee! And the hand holding at the end was so cute.
Thanks! I'm not completely happy with the scene -- the description feels rushed. I dunno. I might play with it some more.
I would love to read a series of longer fics that are like watching an episode -- something like DW:Season Two, the lost episods
I'm really enjoying this story, love the Doctor saying Boom... I can see him doing that.
I'm am in love with this story so much! *adds to fave fan-fics folder* Keep them comin! You must write more!
I've the last of my semester finals next week -- this should finish up in two more chapters. Soon!
He's Doctor MacGuyver. lol. Good story; I like it
It took me *forever* to think of something Doctor-clever! I'm glad that you like it! |
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