moragmacpherson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moragmacpherson) wrote2009-01-23 09:19 am
moragmacpherson) wrote2009-01-23 09:19 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Another Side of the Sky (3/4)
Title: Another Side of the Sky (3/4)
Series: Tempus Frangit
Author: MoragMacPherson
Rating: PG-13 ish.
Timeline: Starts after Family of Blood for DW, and The Gift for BtVS
Disclaimer: I make no claim to any characters contained herein, who are actually owned by big corporations filled with highly paid attorneys who know that suing me would be idiotic based on the fact that all I own are student loans and they wouldn't even be able to recover costs.
Archive: It's here, it's at Twisting the Hellmouth, it's in the pit, it's at Teaspoon. If you'd like it, let me know.
Beta: His name was Blaire WAY back when I wrote at You Got the Stones? Don't know if he's got an account here, but he's a good kid.
Summary: A portal between dimensions opens and another woman materializes inside the TARDIS.
Buffy was standing next to the TARDIS as Martha exited. “So you’re leaving, huh?”
“Yeah, well, you know, saved the world once now with help, I think it’s time to try the hero thing on my own for awhile. See if I really am that good.”
“At least one of us was useful. Whereas I was all kinds of corpse-y.”
“Aw, Buffy.” Martha clutched the girl in a hug. “You came back. You always come back. Gives me a good example.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Doctor, hovering behind the doors, and set Buffy back. “I will call. And you take care of him, and make sure he comes back.”
“He won’t need me to make him. See you soon.” And Buffy slipped inside the TARDIS. The Doctor fiddled at the console without acknowledging her presence. She wondered just how that goodbye had gone. With a sigh, she climbed into her nest to nap while he settled his thoughts and their destination.
Some time later, the Doctor warned her, “We’re setting off.” Buffy dropped down to the ground. She liked it up there, but she wasn’t suicidal.
“Where’re we headed?”
“Oh, I was thinking ice skating on the moons of Luss? I figure we could both use some relaxation, and you enjoyed it last time we were there.”
“Last time we were there Martha and I wound up dressed up like Princess Leia in Return of the Jedi and you were nearly burned at the stake.”
“Eh, you rescued me, we all liked the skating, and I thought you looked more like Xena.” Buffy smiled at him as he winked at her and threw a heavy lever. She approached him around the console.
“Okay, and we can do a return visit to Cinnerdian after that. Now that was an outfit. You look so cute in fur underwear.”
The Doctor chuckled and peered at Buffy under his arm. “I thought as much myself.” He shifted a few panels away from her. “Of course, the claw-toed slippers were a bit much.”
Buffy sidled next to him again. “And the three pound gold medallion?”
“A bit flash, yeah. But it was no Champion’s Amulet, that’s to be sure.”
Buffy went red while the Doctor moved again. “I was going to return it I swear. I know, treasure of an impoverished planet, but they were so insistent. Take me to Texmex five, right now, I’ll bring it back. It’s just, y’know, so shiny.” The ruby encrusted medallion, which she had wrested from an alien with a distasteful number of facial tentacles, was hanging on a hook in her nest, and Buffy only tried it on every couple of weeks… days… hours.
“That’s Teclexhecfivven, and you can keep your trinket,” Buffy relaxed until he added, “For now ,” and her shoulders slumped.
“It’s not as much fun quipping without an audience,” she grumbled.
“Oh come on, I’m an audience. I mean, I’ll miss Martha-“
“Not as much as she missed you. Even when you were here.” The Doctor went silent. “I’m not as smart as her, you know.” Still nothing. “And she was better at saving the world than me. Didn’t have to spill an ounce of blood. Just went around talking to people. And people respected that enough to believe in her. Now that’s magic. Being good at beating up things, that gets you killed by the Master. “ She frowned. “Twice. Next time we meet someone who calls himself the Master I’m just going to hide in here, okay? And warn me if you see any Glories.”
“Buffy-“
“Sorry. Just… I know you can’t change your feelings, but you could have been nicer to Martha. That’s all. Honestly, first I watched Xander, now you…”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, which made Buffy walk up to him and stick her finger in his chest.
“Well, I mean, you, you’re just so damned high and mighty most of the time. ‘The Last of the Time Lords’? Try ‘One Girl in All the World’ why don’t you? Or even just normal human being. You’re not the only lonely one, you big drama queen!”
“Hey, you had Kendra and Faith—“
“Kendra died, Faith went bad, and then I got to slide a knife in her gut.” Buffy poked for emphasis.
“She survived.”
“What makes you think the Master hasn’t?”
Oh, he hadn’t expected that line, and jumped back from her, arms raised.
“I burned his bloody body!”
“Like your body means so much to you guys! You change it when you like. My sister only wishes she had my body to bury!”
The words came out more acid than she intended, so Buffy softened her expression. “Some of us don’t get normal lives or deaths. I’ve gotten so used to it, when offered normal I say no. I just don’t fit there anymore. But it drives me nuts that someone who claims to love humanity so much can’t cope with the things that make us human.”
The Doctor rubbed his face with his palms. “Buffy, I can’t. You know I can’t. Hell, you even know why I can’t!”
“Because you’re going to outlive us? Lame excuse. Nine hundred years running away from anything that even looks like love? Some life.” She sighed and turned away from him. “I wish you could meet Spike. I’m not saying this right, and he has this bizarre talent for truth in these kinds of situations.” She slumped against the wall and after a moment he sat next to her.
“All right. A little bit more human?”
“Yes please, Doctor.”
“Okay.” He put an arm around her shoulders and she tucked her head beneath his chin. “The worst part of the last year, worse than the dog house, worse than the decrepit body, worse than the Master’s taste in pop music, was not knowing if, when we destroyed the paradox, you were going to come back to us.”
“You missed me?”
“Very much.”
“Oh.” He gave her a soft squeeze. “I’m glad I came back.”
“I’m glad you’re almost as bad at dying as Jack is.”
“Yeah. Did he leave a phone number?” His response was a glare, for which she tickled him, then he trapped her arms with his other hand. Buffy let this slide and rested her head back on his shoulder. After a few moments they both relaxed again, and the Doctor’s expression grew somber.
“I mourned you, you know.”
Buffy groaned. “Don’t say that. I was getting used to the idea of not being dead anymore.”
“But I did. So, I know how your friends at home feel like, and I know how you feel about that, and I get it. I understand.”
Buffy stared down at the Doctor’s hands around hers for a few moments. “I’m not sure they have the same hope that I’d come back.”
“Of course they do! Your friends, I mean, from what you’ve said, I’m sure they’re keeping an eye out. Like you said, some of us don’t get normal lives, and we don’t get to rest in peace. I would watch out for you forever.” He smiled down at her, and her eyes were wide and her mouth agape.
Then Buffy kissed him.
And he found that he rather liked it.
For most of his life, the Doctor had been a bit squeamish about this sort of thing. When you’re conscious of the movements of the planets and spend your life listening to the cosmic harmony, you’re equally aware of every millimeter of tongue sliding across tooth, gum, lip, and cheek, saliva mixing, temperatures raising, heart rates increasing, mucous membranes producing and if you think about it too much, it was easy to be disturbed by the entire process; at the moment, however, Buffy tasted like a Cadbury Caramel bar, which she must have snagged after saying goodbye to Jack and Martha and she had only been joking about wanting Jack’s number hadn’t she, because heavens knows that women and men alike seemed to-- but that train of thought melted away as her fingers crept into his hair and he discovered that while he was thinking earlier he had pulled her onto his lap, and she still didn’t weigh enough to be as strong as he knew she was but her tongue was taking slow, clockwise laps around his mouth while her fingers were making tiny counter-clockwise circles in his scalp and wouldn’t she make a marvelous drummer in a rock band? Must try to keep up with her then, slide his hand up the back of her leg, show her a little bit of what a determined Time Lord could do, let her feel the Earth move, or the TARDIS in this case, or even make time stop and was that her other hand at the small of his back…
They stayed like that for some time.
Buffy broke the kiss, smiling. “See? Humanity. The gooey parts are the nice parts.”
The Doctor’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open and a small grin in place. “Like a Cadbury Caramel.”
“Exactly.” The Doctor’s arm still hung loosely about her waist, and Buffy squeezed one hand as she broke his hold and stood. “You should take some time to enjoy the gooey stuff. If you want to understand us humans, you should take an interest in our greatest fascination.’
The dopey smile widened and he gazed up at her. “I’ll show you the universe, and you’ll show me the gooey bits?”
Buffy feigned shock. “Heck no. You haven’t even asked me on a date.”
“Sure I have. Ice skating. Tin bikinis. Fur pants. Sounds better than a night in Vegas.” He rose on slightly shaky legs to offer her a hand. “We’ll have fun.”
~*~
“Good evening, Buffy. This is London, 1793. King George III isn’t mad at the moment, but give him a few years, he’ll be back, and you colonials have been independent well nigh on ten years. Meanwhile, in France, the guillotine has hit the fan.”
“Lovely. Are we here to rescue the Dauphin?”
The Doctor twirled to face her, his jaw dropped.
“Willow had a thing for that Scarlet Pumpernickel guy.’
“Pimpernel. Pumpernickel was Daffy Duck.”
“Yeah, him.” He seemed frozen. “Oh come on, close your mouth, it’s not that surprising.”
“Yes, well, the Dauphin bit was a shock, but it’s more the you-in-nothing-but-your-knickers bit which has me at a loss.” He swallowed, then squeaked, “You’re gonna catch cold.”
“In the TARDIS? And it’s not like there’s anyone else here to see me.” She walked to him, got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “But maybe you should help me get dressed before we go out?”
“Help. Dress? Yes. Good plan.” She led him by the hand back to the wardrobe, where, after some brief negotiations, he helped her into a sensible outfit that wouldn’t attract too much attention in 18th century London, while allowing for plenty of legroom. Of the many trips she’d taken with the Doctor, perhaps a dozen times she hadn’t had to knock someone out. Once she didn’t even need to run away from anything. But she liked the period costumes; she liked watching the Doctor blush in the mirror as his fingers were oddly clumsy at doing the tiny buttons on the back of her dress. He hesitated as he finished, before kissing her softly on the nape of the neck, still blushing as he met her gaze in the reflection.
She smiled at him, took his hand, and they dashed to the console room and the TARDIS doors. Outside of those doors were cliffs and a smallish if bustling port town and the sun was about an hour from setting over the sea. “I don’t see the Thames, Doctor.”
“Hmm…”
“How far off were you?”
He shrugged. “Not too bad.” He scratched his head, studying the scene.
“Ah. I see. Please define ‘not too bad’?”
“Well, Ireland. That’s the River Corrib, so, Galway. Ships in the harbor are a little too early, so call it maybe four hundred miles and forty or fifty years? Which in the grand scheme of things is barely off at all. And the countryside looks lovely. Shall we explore?” He offered her an arm, which she accepted.
“If this turns out like the last time you tried to take me to the Olympics, I will be very unhappy.”
“Aw, come on, the Bay of Pigs was exciting.”
Together they strolled down the paths towards the city, which had that smell of all cities prior to indoor plumbing and automobiles. Buffy considered herself a champion horse apple dodger. The people, like most people, were too preoccupied with their own lives to pay attention to the Doctor’s commentaries to Buffy on the Jacobite rebellions and their effects on this city, which was apparently was having a rotten string of luck at the moment. The muck in their path preoccupied Buffy and also a nagging thought that she knew something about Galway that the Doctor didn’t, if only she could remember what.
The nagging thought bumped directly into her, pushing her feet and hem into a pile of horse manure. “Pardon me, Miss.” Buffy froze at the voice, knowing just what she would see if she could bring herself to look up.
“Are you okay, Buffy?” The Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder, as she was able to turn to watch her first love turn into the pub down the street.
“Depends on your meaning of okay.” Buffy stared at the door, until the Doctor put himself between her and it, and lifted her chin up to him.
“Did I miss something?”
“Yes. I need a drink. Can we get a drink? No, not there, somewhere else.” She led him back, to a pub she’d seen on the outskirts of town. The phrase “Ohshitohshitohshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit,” occurred to her. The Doctor got her a glass of wretchedly tawny port and himself a cracked glass of what was politely referred to as whiskey. Buffy swallowed the syrupy wine and grimaced, burying her head in her arms. The Doctor passed her the whiskey, which followed the port in quick succession, and was succeeded by a coughing fit that almost attracted the attention of their fellow patrons.
Almost. “Just a case of the vapors,” the Doctor murmured to no one in particular. He’d been admiring some of Galway’s architecture and looked down in the street, only to see Buffy a few steps behind looking... well, he wasn’t exactly sure. Sort of nauseous-panicked-stunned-excited-longing. He decided that yet another reason there was such a gap between human and Time Lord intelligence was that humans devoted so much brainpower to simultaneous feelings. Now the whiskey had taken charge and her nauseous look had taken over. “So, do I need to ask?”
“Angel,” she croaked, and understanding dawned in his eyes as she continued to recover from the whiskey. “Well, Liam. He could be Willy in this world for all I know. But it was him.”
“Ah. The Scourge of Europe, love of your life?”
“A little thicker. A lot drunker. Un-scourgey. Mine was twenty-six when he changed. That guy was maybe thirty? So he lived. He’s probably married. That’s what should have happened. I’ve seen those eyes in a hundred photographs. Must all be his great-great-great-great-great-greater grandchildren, all with those eyes. Even a couple with his shoulders. Maybe a couple from kids he didn’t even know about. Do you think he loves her? I mean, I don’t know, he always told me he never cared about those noble girls, but what about the bar maids? Did he care about the bar maids?” She examined the glass. “I’m sorry, your whiskey is gone.”
“That’s fine.”
“Do you want some more?”
“No, do you?”
“No, I’m okay. Thank you, Doctor. I’m sorry.” Some sort of further meaningless apology stuck at the back of her throat, and she moaned, taking his hand to lay her cheek down on it. It smelled of wool and mechanical grease and electricity and sweat. It smelled like the Doctor, who in no way smelled like Angel, whose aroma was grass, leather, and soap. Both of them were pleasantly cool to the touch, and the Doctor cupped his palm about her face that eased the burning feeling beneath her skin which had started when she’d seen Angel-Liam and had only grown worse with the alcohol.
“It’s okay, Buffy. I mean, this sort of thing is bound to happen in inter-dimensional time travel. You’re handling it quite well, really. For one, you didn’t go chasing after him. That showed considerable restraint, I think.”
“There was this very strong ‘chase after him’ urge,” she admitted.
“And, I can tell, you understand that he’s not the man you knew in your world.”
“Well, he’s not a vampire. And he’s two-hundred and fifty years younger.”
“It’s amazing how a quarter of a millennia of soulless slaughter can change you, it’s true. So all in all, I think you’ve passed this test of character with flying colors, and I’m rather proud.” The Doctor squeezed Buffy’s hand as Angel set three new glasses of whiskey down from behind them and sat between the pair.
“I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I felt I owed a slightly more sincere apology t’the lady for soiling her lovely dress, sir. Name’s William Kirwin, and may I have the pleasure of making your acquaintance?”
Buffy’s eyes bugged out of her skull, and the Doctor stood to defend her honor. Normally, she’d have been amused at him thinking she needed defending, but at the moment all of this seemed to be happening to some other person, who was nodding at William, asking her dear friend the Doctor to please sit down, introducing the pair, and proposing a toast to chance acquaintances. William was a few pubs into an extensive pub crawl, and she let him talk about his business and the shipment of indigo which would surely cement his fortune and the bastard English who kept trying to restrict the trade, no offense intended sir- Doctor, sir; none taken, if you’ll excuse me, I need some fresh air; and Buffy sat and sipped as William apologized for this state the English had driven him to, but that was no excuse for rudeness to a lovely couple such as she and her husband - not her husband? No, no wife his self, widowed three years now and childless. But how long would she be in town, for he felt obligated to show a colonial his beloved homeland. But Buffy, we have to go now, sir, you’ve more than made up for any perceived rudeness, but it is quite late. M’lady. Sir. Sir. Then she found herself escorted to a dismal room, sitting on a thin but mercifully clean mattress.
“Well, that could have gone worse.” The Doctor kicked his sneakers off, and took Buffy’s shawl for her.
“That umm, sparkage thing with him. Nice to know it wasn’t just a fluke. Could have just been the hair though. He did always like little blonde girls. Darla. Me. Kate. He killed dozens of them that one spring.”
“Yeah. Little blonde girls. They can be trouble.” The Doctor finished removing Buffy’s boots and set them beside the bed.
“He looked good. Sounded good, good spirits. That might have been the whiskey. I’m sure he didn’t mean to squeeze my arm so hard.”
“Oh yeah, sure.” Buffy laid down, facing the candles, not really acknowledging the Doctor as he hung his jacket, snuffed the light and laid beside her. After a few minutes, he couldn’t resist, and wrapped his arms around his companion’s body. The Doctor felt her heart racing in still silent panic, so he stroked the hair at the nape of her neck, whispering, “Sleep.” And she did.
She didn’t move for five minutes after she woke, until the Doctor tossed an apple at her, which she caught. “Good morning.”
“Nnnnf.”
“Really?” He polished the apple that remained in his hand, considered it, then set it on the table. “So, do I need to hang around?”
“What do you mean?”
“You miss your friends. We found one. Do we need to hang around? Do I need to go? It’s your choice. Tell me what’s going on.”
She sat up and swung her legs off the bed, shaking her head. “He’s not my friend.”
“I don’t think you believe that.” Buffy watched his left eye twitch just half a millimeter.
“You’re upset.”
“No, I’m just realistic, Buffy. You’re faced with the opportunity to settle down with the man you love, or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof, and it looks like you’re still attracted to one another. I won’t stand in your way. I’m happy for you. I just want to know what you want.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. His eyes shifted around the room, settling on escape. “I should go.” The Doctor headed towards the door, only to find that Buffy had thrown herself at him, kissing him with passion he could only respond to in kind and he was powerless as she pressed him into the door, picking him up under his bottom and carrying him back to the bed. His shirt was shredded, his tie and jacket disappeared and his hands held together by one tiny hand while somehow he was divested of his shoes, trousers, and pants, and still she pressed him down, pressed herself against him, her tongue and hands and legs occupying his every possible thought as she reminded him that genius or no, Lord of Time he might be, but she was the Slayer, and physically, he could only hope she’d let him keep up. She was utterly and completely overwhelming.
And she wanted him.
Her arguments were quite convincing and for once in his life, he wasn’t going to fight. So he smiled as she feathered kisses over his neck and chest afterwards, every one a gift he would treasure across time, twirling his fingers in her hair. One kiss landed on his lips, and her smile was as honest as he could hope for. “I decided.”
“Oh? I think I may have got your point. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you didn’t want me to go?”
“No. I… Angel. He was my first love, and nothing will change that. You know I love him. But that man will never exist here. Plus, dumping me in an age pre-indoor plumbing? No thank you.”
“Well, I mean, I can’t exactly blame you. And I wasn’t going to say anything, but he’s a little Cro-Magnon looking, and a little Cro-Magnon acting, and-”
Her lips stopped his speech. “Don’t push your luck. Anyway, what it came down to was that I couldn’t love anyone else in this world the way I love you.”
“You love me?”
“Oh, come on. You’ve known that for awhile now.”
His eyes widened as he pulled her closer to him. “No, I hadn’t. Cared for me. I knew that. But I didn’t know if you were just lonely and I was just… there.”
“No. Maybe at first it was a little bit of you were the man who made everything okay after I arrived. Some of it was you reminding me how to enjoy life again. But, silly Doctor, traveling with you, being with you… I haven’t been lonely for a long time.”
“Oh.” The Doctor considered this. He thought of his lost friends and family, of Rose, of the eternity of wandering which would continue long after Buffy was dust and ashes. He felt every supernova as a personal loss, but at that moment, in bed with a beautiful Slayer wrapped around him, he could focus just on how she made him feel, and concluded:
“I don’t feel lonely either.”
Next
Series: Tempus Frangit
Author: MoragMacPherson
Rating: PG-13 ish.
Timeline: Starts after Family of Blood for DW, and The Gift for BtVS
Disclaimer: I make no claim to any characters contained herein, who are actually owned by big corporations filled with highly paid attorneys who know that suing me would be idiotic based on the fact that all I own are student loans and they wouldn't even be able to recover costs.
Archive: It's here, it's at Twisting the Hellmouth, it's in the pit, it's at Teaspoon. If you'd like it, let me know.
Beta: His name was Blaire WAY back when I wrote at You Got the Stones? Don't know if he's got an account here, but he's a good kid.
Summary: A portal between dimensions opens and another woman materializes inside the TARDIS.
Buffy was standing next to the TARDIS as Martha exited. “So you’re leaving, huh?”
“Yeah, well, you know, saved the world once now with help, I think it’s time to try the hero thing on my own for awhile. See if I really am that good.”
“At least one of us was useful. Whereas I was all kinds of corpse-y.”
“Aw, Buffy.” Martha clutched the girl in a hug. “You came back. You always come back. Gives me a good example.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Doctor, hovering behind the doors, and set Buffy back. “I will call. And you take care of him, and make sure he comes back.”
“He won’t need me to make him. See you soon.” And Buffy slipped inside the TARDIS. The Doctor fiddled at the console without acknowledging her presence. She wondered just how that goodbye had gone. With a sigh, she climbed into her nest to nap while he settled his thoughts and their destination.
Some time later, the Doctor warned her, “We’re setting off.” Buffy dropped down to the ground. She liked it up there, but she wasn’t suicidal.
“Where’re we headed?”
“Oh, I was thinking ice skating on the moons of Luss? I figure we could both use some relaxation, and you enjoyed it last time we were there.”
“Last time we were there Martha and I wound up dressed up like Princess Leia in Return of the Jedi and you were nearly burned at the stake.”
“Eh, you rescued me, we all liked the skating, and I thought you looked more like Xena.” Buffy smiled at him as he winked at her and threw a heavy lever. She approached him around the console.
“Okay, and we can do a return visit to Cinnerdian after that. Now that was an outfit. You look so cute in fur underwear.”
The Doctor chuckled and peered at Buffy under his arm. “I thought as much myself.” He shifted a few panels away from her. “Of course, the claw-toed slippers were a bit much.”
Buffy sidled next to him again. “And the three pound gold medallion?”
“A bit flash, yeah. But it was no Champion’s Amulet, that’s to be sure.”
Buffy went red while the Doctor moved again. “I was going to return it I swear. I know, treasure of an impoverished planet, but they were so insistent. Take me to Texmex five, right now, I’ll bring it back. It’s just, y’know, so shiny.” The ruby encrusted medallion, which she had wrested from an alien with a distasteful number of facial tentacles, was hanging on a hook in her nest, and Buffy only tried it on every couple of weeks… days… hours.
“That’s Teclexhecfivven, and you can keep your trinket,” Buffy relaxed until he added, “For now ,” and her shoulders slumped.
“It’s not as much fun quipping without an audience,” she grumbled.
“Oh come on, I’m an audience. I mean, I’ll miss Martha-“
“Not as much as she missed you. Even when you were here.” The Doctor went silent. “I’m not as smart as her, you know.” Still nothing. “And she was better at saving the world than me. Didn’t have to spill an ounce of blood. Just went around talking to people. And people respected that enough to believe in her. Now that’s magic. Being good at beating up things, that gets you killed by the Master. “ She frowned. “Twice. Next time we meet someone who calls himself the Master I’m just going to hide in here, okay? And warn me if you see any Glories.”
“Buffy-“
“Sorry. Just… I know you can’t change your feelings, but you could have been nicer to Martha. That’s all. Honestly, first I watched Xander, now you…”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, which made Buffy walk up to him and stick her finger in his chest.
“Well, I mean, you, you’re just so damned high and mighty most of the time. ‘The Last of the Time Lords’? Try ‘One Girl in All the World’ why don’t you? Or even just normal human being. You’re not the only lonely one, you big drama queen!”
“Hey, you had Kendra and Faith—“
“Kendra died, Faith went bad, and then I got to slide a knife in her gut.” Buffy poked for emphasis.
“She survived.”
“What makes you think the Master hasn’t?”
Oh, he hadn’t expected that line, and jumped back from her, arms raised.
“I burned his bloody body!”
“Like your body means so much to you guys! You change it when you like. My sister only wishes she had my body to bury!”
The words came out more acid than she intended, so Buffy softened her expression. “Some of us don’t get normal lives or deaths. I’ve gotten so used to it, when offered normal I say no. I just don’t fit there anymore. But it drives me nuts that someone who claims to love humanity so much can’t cope with the things that make us human.”
The Doctor rubbed his face with his palms. “Buffy, I can’t. You know I can’t. Hell, you even know why I can’t!”
“Because you’re going to outlive us? Lame excuse. Nine hundred years running away from anything that even looks like love? Some life.” She sighed and turned away from him. “I wish you could meet Spike. I’m not saying this right, and he has this bizarre talent for truth in these kinds of situations.” She slumped against the wall and after a moment he sat next to her.
“All right. A little bit more human?”
“Yes please, Doctor.”
“Okay.” He put an arm around her shoulders and she tucked her head beneath his chin. “The worst part of the last year, worse than the dog house, worse than the decrepit body, worse than the Master’s taste in pop music, was not knowing if, when we destroyed the paradox, you were going to come back to us.”
“You missed me?”
“Very much.”
“Oh.” He gave her a soft squeeze. “I’m glad I came back.”
“I’m glad you’re almost as bad at dying as Jack is.”
“Yeah. Did he leave a phone number?” His response was a glare, for which she tickled him, then he trapped her arms with his other hand. Buffy let this slide and rested her head back on his shoulder. After a few moments they both relaxed again, and the Doctor’s expression grew somber.
“I mourned you, you know.”
Buffy groaned. “Don’t say that. I was getting used to the idea of not being dead anymore.”
“But I did. So, I know how your friends at home feel like, and I know how you feel about that, and I get it. I understand.”
Buffy stared down at the Doctor’s hands around hers for a few moments. “I’m not sure they have the same hope that I’d come back.”
“Of course they do! Your friends, I mean, from what you’ve said, I’m sure they’re keeping an eye out. Like you said, some of us don’t get normal lives, and we don’t get to rest in peace. I would watch out for you forever.” He smiled down at her, and her eyes were wide and her mouth agape.
Then Buffy kissed him.
And he found that he rather liked it.
For most of his life, the Doctor had been a bit squeamish about this sort of thing. When you’re conscious of the movements of the planets and spend your life listening to the cosmic harmony, you’re equally aware of every millimeter of tongue sliding across tooth, gum, lip, and cheek, saliva mixing, temperatures raising, heart rates increasing, mucous membranes producing and if you think about it too much, it was easy to be disturbed by the entire process; at the moment, however, Buffy tasted like a Cadbury Caramel bar, which she must have snagged after saying goodbye to Jack and Martha and she had only been joking about wanting Jack’s number hadn’t she, because heavens knows that women and men alike seemed to-- but that train of thought melted away as her fingers crept into his hair and he discovered that while he was thinking earlier he had pulled her onto his lap, and she still didn’t weigh enough to be as strong as he knew she was but her tongue was taking slow, clockwise laps around his mouth while her fingers were making tiny counter-clockwise circles in his scalp and wouldn’t she make a marvelous drummer in a rock band? Must try to keep up with her then, slide his hand up the back of her leg, show her a little bit of what a determined Time Lord could do, let her feel the Earth move, or the TARDIS in this case, or even make time stop and was that her other hand at the small of his back…
They stayed like that for some time.
Buffy broke the kiss, smiling. “See? Humanity. The gooey parts are the nice parts.”
The Doctor’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open and a small grin in place. “Like a Cadbury Caramel.”
“Exactly.” The Doctor’s arm still hung loosely about her waist, and Buffy squeezed one hand as she broke his hold and stood. “You should take some time to enjoy the gooey stuff. If you want to understand us humans, you should take an interest in our greatest fascination.’
The dopey smile widened and he gazed up at her. “I’ll show you the universe, and you’ll show me the gooey bits?”
Buffy feigned shock. “Heck no. You haven’t even asked me on a date.”
“Sure I have. Ice skating. Tin bikinis. Fur pants. Sounds better than a night in Vegas.” He rose on slightly shaky legs to offer her a hand. “We’ll have fun.”
~*~
“Good evening, Buffy. This is London, 1793. King George III isn’t mad at the moment, but give him a few years, he’ll be back, and you colonials have been independent well nigh on ten years. Meanwhile, in France, the guillotine has hit the fan.”
“Lovely. Are we here to rescue the Dauphin?”
The Doctor twirled to face her, his jaw dropped.
“Willow had a thing for that Scarlet Pumpernickel guy.’
“Pimpernel. Pumpernickel was Daffy Duck.”
“Yeah, him.” He seemed frozen. “Oh come on, close your mouth, it’s not that surprising.”
“Yes, well, the Dauphin bit was a shock, but it’s more the you-in-nothing-but-your-knickers bit which has me at a loss.” He swallowed, then squeaked, “You’re gonna catch cold.”
“In the TARDIS? And it’s not like there’s anyone else here to see me.” She walked to him, got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “But maybe you should help me get dressed before we go out?”
“Help. Dress? Yes. Good plan.” She led him by the hand back to the wardrobe, where, after some brief negotiations, he helped her into a sensible outfit that wouldn’t attract too much attention in 18th century London, while allowing for plenty of legroom. Of the many trips she’d taken with the Doctor, perhaps a dozen times she hadn’t had to knock someone out. Once she didn’t even need to run away from anything. But she liked the period costumes; she liked watching the Doctor blush in the mirror as his fingers were oddly clumsy at doing the tiny buttons on the back of her dress. He hesitated as he finished, before kissing her softly on the nape of the neck, still blushing as he met her gaze in the reflection.
She smiled at him, took his hand, and they dashed to the console room and the TARDIS doors. Outside of those doors were cliffs and a smallish if bustling port town and the sun was about an hour from setting over the sea. “I don’t see the Thames, Doctor.”
“Hmm…”
“How far off were you?”
He shrugged. “Not too bad.” He scratched his head, studying the scene.
“Ah. I see. Please define ‘not too bad’?”
“Well, Ireland. That’s the River Corrib, so, Galway. Ships in the harbor are a little too early, so call it maybe four hundred miles and forty or fifty years? Which in the grand scheme of things is barely off at all. And the countryside looks lovely. Shall we explore?” He offered her an arm, which she accepted.
“If this turns out like the last time you tried to take me to the Olympics, I will be very unhappy.”
“Aw, come on, the Bay of Pigs was exciting.”
Together they strolled down the paths towards the city, which had that smell of all cities prior to indoor plumbing and automobiles. Buffy considered herself a champion horse apple dodger. The people, like most people, were too preoccupied with their own lives to pay attention to the Doctor’s commentaries to Buffy on the Jacobite rebellions and their effects on this city, which was apparently was having a rotten string of luck at the moment. The muck in their path preoccupied Buffy and also a nagging thought that she knew something about Galway that the Doctor didn’t, if only she could remember what.
The nagging thought bumped directly into her, pushing her feet and hem into a pile of horse manure. “Pardon me, Miss.” Buffy froze at the voice, knowing just what she would see if she could bring herself to look up.
“Are you okay, Buffy?” The Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder, as she was able to turn to watch her first love turn into the pub down the street.
“Depends on your meaning of okay.” Buffy stared at the door, until the Doctor put himself between her and it, and lifted her chin up to him.
“Did I miss something?”
“Yes. I need a drink. Can we get a drink? No, not there, somewhere else.” She led him back, to a pub she’d seen on the outskirts of town. The phrase “Ohshitohshitohshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit,” occurred to her. The Doctor got her a glass of wretchedly tawny port and himself a cracked glass of what was politely referred to as whiskey. Buffy swallowed the syrupy wine and grimaced, burying her head in her arms. The Doctor passed her the whiskey, which followed the port in quick succession, and was succeeded by a coughing fit that almost attracted the attention of their fellow patrons.
Almost. “Just a case of the vapors,” the Doctor murmured to no one in particular. He’d been admiring some of Galway’s architecture and looked down in the street, only to see Buffy a few steps behind looking... well, he wasn’t exactly sure. Sort of nauseous-panicked-stunned-excited-longing. He decided that yet another reason there was such a gap between human and Time Lord intelligence was that humans devoted so much brainpower to simultaneous feelings. Now the whiskey had taken charge and her nauseous look had taken over. “So, do I need to ask?”
“Angel,” she croaked, and understanding dawned in his eyes as she continued to recover from the whiskey. “Well, Liam. He could be Willy in this world for all I know. But it was him.”
“Ah. The Scourge of Europe, love of your life?”
“A little thicker. A lot drunker. Un-scourgey. Mine was twenty-six when he changed. That guy was maybe thirty? So he lived. He’s probably married. That’s what should have happened. I’ve seen those eyes in a hundred photographs. Must all be his great-great-great-great-great-greater grandchildren, all with those eyes. Even a couple with his shoulders. Maybe a couple from kids he didn’t even know about. Do you think he loves her? I mean, I don’t know, he always told me he never cared about those noble girls, but what about the bar maids? Did he care about the bar maids?” She examined the glass. “I’m sorry, your whiskey is gone.”
“That’s fine.”
“Do you want some more?”
“No, do you?”
“No, I’m okay. Thank you, Doctor. I’m sorry.” Some sort of further meaningless apology stuck at the back of her throat, and she moaned, taking his hand to lay her cheek down on it. It smelled of wool and mechanical grease and electricity and sweat. It smelled like the Doctor, who in no way smelled like Angel, whose aroma was grass, leather, and soap. Both of them were pleasantly cool to the touch, and the Doctor cupped his palm about her face that eased the burning feeling beneath her skin which had started when she’d seen Angel-Liam and had only grown worse with the alcohol.
“It’s okay, Buffy. I mean, this sort of thing is bound to happen in inter-dimensional time travel. You’re handling it quite well, really. For one, you didn’t go chasing after him. That showed considerable restraint, I think.”
“There was this very strong ‘chase after him’ urge,” she admitted.
“And, I can tell, you understand that he’s not the man you knew in your world.”
“Well, he’s not a vampire. And he’s two-hundred and fifty years younger.”
“It’s amazing how a quarter of a millennia of soulless slaughter can change you, it’s true. So all in all, I think you’ve passed this test of character with flying colors, and I’m rather proud.” The Doctor squeezed Buffy’s hand as Angel set three new glasses of whiskey down from behind them and sat between the pair.
“I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I felt I owed a slightly more sincere apology t’the lady for soiling her lovely dress, sir. Name’s William Kirwin, and may I have the pleasure of making your acquaintance?”
Buffy’s eyes bugged out of her skull, and the Doctor stood to defend her honor. Normally, she’d have been amused at him thinking she needed defending, but at the moment all of this seemed to be happening to some other person, who was nodding at William, asking her dear friend the Doctor to please sit down, introducing the pair, and proposing a toast to chance acquaintances. William was a few pubs into an extensive pub crawl, and she let him talk about his business and the shipment of indigo which would surely cement his fortune and the bastard English who kept trying to restrict the trade, no offense intended sir- Doctor, sir; none taken, if you’ll excuse me, I need some fresh air; and Buffy sat and sipped as William apologized for this state the English had driven him to, but that was no excuse for rudeness to a lovely couple such as she and her husband - not her husband? No, no wife his self, widowed three years now and childless. But how long would she be in town, for he felt obligated to show a colonial his beloved homeland. But Buffy, we have to go now, sir, you’ve more than made up for any perceived rudeness, but it is quite late. M’lady. Sir. Sir. Then she found herself escorted to a dismal room, sitting on a thin but mercifully clean mattress.
“Well, that could have gone worse.” The Doctor kicked his sneakers off, and took Buffy’s shawl for her.
“That umm, sparkage thing with him. Nice to know it wasn’t just a fluke. Could have just been the hair though. He did always like little blonde girls. Darla. Me. Kate. He killed dozens of them that one spring.”
“Yeah. Little blonde girls. They can be trouble.” The Doctor finished removing Buffy’s boots and set them beside the bed.
“He looked good. Sounded good, good spirits. That might have been the whiskey. I’m sure he didn’t mean to squeeze my arm so hard.”
“Oh yeah, sure.” Buffy laid down, facing the candles, not really acknowledging the Doctor as he hung his jacket, snuffed the light and laid beside her. After a few minutes, he couldn’t resist, and wrapped his arms around his companion’s body. The Doctor felt her heart racing in still silent panic, so he stroked the hair at the nape of her neck, whispering, “Sleep.” And she did.
She didn’t move for five minutes after she woke, until the Doctor tossed an apple at her, which she caught. “Good morning.”
“Nnnnf.”
“Really?” He polished the apple that remained in his hand, considered it, then set it on the table. “So, do I need to hang around?”
“What do you mean?”
“You miss your friends. We found one. Do we need to hang around? Do I need to go? It’s your choice. Tell me what’s going on.”
She sat up and swung her legs off the bed, shaking her head. “He’s not my friend.”
“I don’t think you believe that.” Buffy watched his left eye twitch just half a millimeter.
“You’re upset.”
“No, I’m just realistic, Buffy. You’re faced with the opportunity to settle down with the man you love, or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof, and it looks like you’re still attracted to one another. I won’t stand in your way. I’m happy for you. I just want to know what you want.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. His eyes shifted around the room, settling on escape. “I should go.” The Doctor headed towards the door, only to find that Buffy had thrown herself at him, kissing him with passion he could only respond to in kind and he was powerless as she pressed him into the door, picking him up under his bottom and carrying him back to the bed. His shirt was shredded, his tie and jacket disappeared and his hands held together by one tiny hand while somehow he was divested of his shoes, trousers, and pants, and still she pressed him down, pressed herself against him, her tongue and hands and legs occupying his every possible thought as she reminded him that genius or no, Lord of Time he might be, but she was the Slayer, and physically, he could only hope she’d let him keep up. She was utterly and completely overwhelming.
And she wanted him.
Her arguments were quite convincing and for once in his life, he wasn’t going to fight. So he smiled as she feathered kisses over his neck and chest afterwards, every one a gift he would treasure across time, twirling his fingers in her hair. One kiss landed on his lips, and her smile was as honest as he could hope for. “I decided.”
“Oh? I think I may have got your point. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you didn’t want me to go?”
“No. I… Angel. He was my first love, and nothing will change that. You know I love him. But that man will never exist here. Plus, dumping me in an age pre-indoor plumbing? No thank you.”
“Well, I mean, I can’t exactly blame you. And I wasn’t going to say anything, but he’s a little Cro-Magnon looking, and a little Cro-Magnon acting, and-”
Her lips stopped his speech. “Don’t push your luck. Anyway, what it came down to was that I couldn’t love anyone else in this world the way I love you.”
“You love me?”
“Oh, come on. You’ve known that for awhile now.”
His eyes widened as he pulled her closer to him. “No, I hadn’t. Cared for me. I knew that. But I didn’t know if you were just lonely and I was just… there.”
“No. Maybe at first it was a little bit of you were the man who made everything okay after I arrived. Some of it was you reminding me how to enjoy life again. But, silly Doctor, traveling with you, being with you… I haven’t been lonely for a long time.”
“Oh.” The Doctor considered this. He thought of his lost friends and family, of Rose, of the eternity of wandering which would continue long after Buffy was dust and ashes. He felt every supernova as a personal loss, but at that moment, in bed with a beautiful Slayer wrapped around him, he could focus just on how she made him feel, and concluded:
“I don’t feel lonely either.”
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