moragmacpherson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moragmacpherson) wrote2009-01-20 01:14 am
moragmacpherson) wrote2009-01-20 01:14 am
Fic: The Rod of Asclepius (14/15) (BtVS/DrWho/SG-1)
Title: The Rod of Asclepius (14/15)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moragmacpherson
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: This story takes place during that sixty year block that I glossed over between chapters three and four of "Another Side of the Sky". Buffy's about twenty-five years old, so it's before the Beeyadeen Kibra incident she tells Spike about in "Better With Two". Thus our characters here are still-slightly-stuffy Tenth Doctor and still-slightly-spacey Buffy. In the Stargate universe, it's early season four.
Disclaimer: If it's a character or a place, I don't own it.
Archive: Here, TtH, Teaspoon, the pit, I think. If you'd like it, let me know.
Author's Note: Un-beta'd.
Summary: Another storage closet, another dimension? Set during "Another Side of the Sky," Buffy and the Doctor slip into the Stargate universe and a whole new set of problems.
Buffy left the mess hall to find the Doctor alone, sitting at a bench in the storage closet they’d arrived in. The TARDIS had been unpacked, and the controller sat on the table in front of him. “You figured it out?”
“Daniel, Sam and I, yeah. They’re headed down to that dinner.”
Buffy shrugged. “Mostly calmed down now. I’m full.”
The Doctor nodded. “That’s good.”
“So this controller, it can get us home without the mirror?” Buffy examined the device, which looked like a simplified video game controller.
“It should do the trick. I’ll set it to resonate at the same frequency as the TARDIS, a TARDIS-sized hole will open in the fabric of space and time, then we’ll pop home.” He smiled. “Simple. Sam and Daniel, they really are brilliant.”
Buffy nodded. “I like them too.” Her hand sought his shoulder. “So it uses matter to tune to different dimensions.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” He faltered. “I mean, best with non-living matter, you’ve been eating in my dimension so long, but I could-“
Buffy silenced him with a kiss, and the controller dropped to the table as he pulled her into him, this vibrant girl who pushed him and punched him and kissed him, who brought him to his knees with passion and frustration, who gave him the deepest terrors he'd ever experienced, who walked the edges of the universe and life and could always pull him back, and who above all, stayed. “Don’t,” she breathed against him. “Don’t tell me. Don’t make me make that choice. I can’t. So don’t give it.”
The Doctor’s throat caught, her lips resting against it. “I see.”
“Good.” Buffy lingered in his arms, listening to his pulses, her lips thin, before pulling away, squeezing his hand.
“It’ll be a little while, I have to run a test or two before I send us through. Maybe an hour?” The Doctor stammered, running his other hand through his hair. Buffy smiled and broke contact.
“Sure. I’ll go tell the team.” With a nod, she turned and left him alone in the storage closet. The Doctor watched her go with a sigh, sitting back on the stool and sticking a hand in his jacket pocket, closing his eyes as his fingers touched thin metal.
The earring was warm in his pocket as he took it out. Someone had dropped it at that doomed party; he’d picked it up as something shiny and lost, he always had a weakness for that sort of thing. It had been in the TARDIS that day, safe from the draw of the void; he hadn’t even remembered it until he took out the dinner jacket again to go with Martha to that reception. His cheeks flushed with the memory, when he’d realized what he should have told Rose to do, how he could have kept her safe, the pain and emptiness in his gut as he replayed the scene in his mind once again. Ever since he’d kept the tiny white gold hoop in his pocket, a reminder and a keepsake. The next morning he’d invited Martha to stay with him.
It sparkled in his palm, carbon from yet another universe, carbon vibrating at just the right frequency.
The portal was but a pinprick, but the Doctor pulled a mobile out, and sure enough, the Cybus Industries – now Tyler Industries – logo popped up on its screen. Getting the number was the effort of a few button presses.
“Hello.”
“Hello, is this Jackie Tyler?” Small mercy, his voice didn’t crack.
“Yes, who’s this? This number’s not listed, y’know, if you’re a telemarketer or a lobbyist I’ll set my husband after you.”
“I was wondering if Rose was there, Jackie.” He heard a glass crash to the floor, and in the distance, a small child began crying.
“You?! Are you here?”
“No, Jackie. But is Rose?” The Doctor loosened his collar around his neck.
“Sure. Sure! How is this - oh, just explain it to her, she’ll go on about nothing else for days.” The phone muffled for a moment, but not enough that he didn’t hear the shout of “Rose Tyler get on the phone right now!”
One click was enough to make his hearts drop onto his stomach. “Hello, what’s the matter?”
“Rose Tyler.” Her name jumped off his tongue. The reply was hesitant and wary.
“Doctor?”
Tears threatened his eyelids. “The one and only. Hello.” He kept his voice light and playful.
Her voice crackled. “It’s been – my God, and now you’re on the phone. Are you here?”
“No. Just a tiny crack here, enough for this signal, nothing more.” He smiled. “More stable, but not quite so dramatic as last time, I’m afraid.”
“Too right.” Rose hiccupped. “It’s been a long five years.”
“That many?”
“Oh, sure it wasn’t so long for you. Marauding across the stars, getting into trouble, time passes like nothing.” She kept the banter up as well as he. “Speaking of which, how much have we got?”
“A while.” He glanced at the door. “An hour maybe?”
“That’s good, that’s better,” laughed Rose. “So, have you been alone? Probably not.”
The Doctor swallowed. “There’s been some guests. You’d have liked them.” He regaled her with the story of how their last talk had been interrupted by Donna, to her peals of laughter as he described flying the TARDIS in traffic. Then he talked about Martha, and the trouble with the Master. “Oh, and Captain Jack’s still alive, he joined up again to help us then. Runs the Torchwood here now, does some okay work.”
“Oh that’s wonderful. Give him a kiss for me.” She paused. “Anyone else?”
Good old Rose, always willing to ask the hard question. “Her name’s Buffy. Met her a little before we met up with Jack again. Popped right into the TARDIS, just like Donna. At least you always knocked.”
“Yeah, not that I ever needed to. She’s stayed with you a while then?”
“Yeah.”
“She pretty?”
He couldn’t remember his throat ever being so dry. “Yes.” He paused. “And ever so very brave. She used to remind me of you.”
Rose coughed. “And now?”
The Doctor tried to find the words. “You and her, you’re both one of a kind. Comparisons aren’t right. How about you? Anyone out there for you?”
The pause was short. “Fancied a couple. Been seeing a bloke this year, Daniel. American, works with Torchwood, he’s an archaeologist. You’d get on with him.”
“Bright blue eyes?”
He could hear her eyes widen over the connection. “You’re sure you’re not here?”
Shaking his head over the coincidences, he replied. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m also pretty sure I’d like him. Do you?”
Again her voice dropped. “A bit.” She sighed. “More than a little.”
He nodded. “Like I said, comparisons, not such a good thing.”
They moved away from the topic, discussing her adventures with Torchwood, the TARDIS’ ever continuing malfunctions, life with her new family, Mickey’s recent divorce, Jack’s immortality, all the things they’d been wanting to tell each other because somehow that helped make events real. Daniel cropped up in her stories, Buffy in his, but that didn’t matter. The bond remained between them, but the time moved so quickly, and his eyes kept straying to the doorway.
“So, will you ring me up again?” It was intended playfully, but contained a note of hope. The Doctor shifted in his seat.
“I don’t know. Not this way again. But Buffy keeps telling me that if I keep saying ‘impossible’ about what’s in front of my eyes she’s going to go shack up with Jack.”
Rose laughed. “Good for her. I’m glad-“ she stopped, and exhaled. “I hope she loves you too.”
“Rose-“
“We know Doctor. Not that it’s not nice to hear, but we know.”
“I do love you.”
“Yes. I know.” She wasn’t crying, and neither was he. “Thank you, for finding a way. Maybe we’ll find another.”
“I hope so Rose Tyler.”
“I love you Doctor. We’ll chat again soon.” The phone clicked off, and the Doctor sat there, staring at the door until there was a knock, followed by Buffy and a hand truck.
“Everything’s packed and the goodbye-committee is all set.” Buffy sat her bag and the boxes next to the TARDIS. “Does it work?”
The Doctor took her hand. “Yes, yes it does.”
Buffy moved closer to him. “Good. It’s time to go home.” He hugged her, burying his face in her hair, running his hands over her new, soft skin.
“I love you.”
The Doctor felt her start. It lasted only a fraction of a second before she squeezed him. “I love you too Doctor.”
Next
Author:
moragmacpherson Rating: PG-13
Timeline: This story takes place during that sixty year block that I glossed over between chapters three and four of "Another Side of the Sky". Buffy's about twenty-five years old, so it's before the Beeyadeen Kibra incident she tells Spike about in "Better With Two". Thus our characters here are still-slightly-stuffy Tenth Doctor and still-slightly-spacey Buffy. In the Stargate universe, it's early season four.
Disclaimer: If it's a character or a place, I don't own it.
Archive: Here, TtH, Teaspoon, the pit, I think. If you'd like it, let me know.
Author's Note: Un-beta'd.
Summary: Another storage closet, another dimension? Set during "Another Side of the Sky," Buffy and the Doctor slip into the Stargate universe and a whole new set of problems.
Buffy left the mess hall to find the Doctor alone, sitting at a bench in the storage closet they’d arrived in. The TARDIS had been unpacked, and the controller sat on the table in front of him. “You figured it out?”
“Daniel, Sam and I, yeah. They’re headed down to that dinner.”
Buffy shrugged. “Mostly calmed down now. I’m full.”
The Doctor nodded. “That’s good.”
“So this controller, it can get us home without the mirror?” Buffy examined the device, which looked like a simplified video game controller.
“It should do the trick. I’ll set it to resonate at the same frequency as the TARDIS, a TARDIS-sized hole will open in the fabric of space and time, then we’ll pop home.” He smiled. “Simple. Sam and Daniel, they really are brilliant.”
Buffy nodded. “I like them too.” Her hand sought his shoulder. “So it uses matter to tune to different dimensions.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” He faltered. “I mean, best with non-living matter, you’ve been eating in my dimension so long, but I could-“
Buffy silenced him with a kiss, and the controller dropped to the table as he pulled her into him, this vibrant girl who pushed him and punched him and kissed him, who brought him to his knees with passion and frustration, who gave him the deepest terrors he'd ever experienced, who walked the edges of the universe and life and could always pull him back, and who above all, stayed. “Don’t,” she breathed against him. “Don’t tell me. Don’t make me make that choice. I can’t. So don’t give it.”
The Doctor’s throat caught, her lips resting against it. “I see.”
“Good.” Buffy lingered in his arms, listening to his pulses, her lips thin, before pulling away, squeezing his hand.
“It’ll be a little while, I have to run a test or two before I send us through. Maybe an hour?” The Doctor stammered, running his other hand through his hair. Buffy smiled and broke contact.
“Sure. I’ll go tell the team.” With a nod, she turned and left him alone in the storage closet. The Doctor watched her go with a sigh, sitting back on the stool and sticking a hand in his jacket pocket, closing his eyes as his fingers touched thin metal.
The earring was warm in his pocket as he took it out. Someone had dropped it at that doomed party; he’d picked it up as something shiny and lost, he always had a weakness for that sort of thing. It had been in the TARDIS that day, safe from the draw of the void; he hadn’t even remembered it until he took out the dinner jacket again to go with Martha to that reception. His cheeks flushed with the memory, when he’d realized what he should have told Rose to do, how he could have kept her safe, the pain and emptiness in his gut as he replayed the scene in his mind once again. Ever since he’d kept the tiny white gold hoop in his pocket, a reminder and a keepsake. The next morning he’d invited Martha to stay with him.
It sparkled in his palm, carbon from yet another universe, carbon vibrating at just the right frequency.
The portal was but a pinprick, but the Doctor pulled a mobile out, and sure enough, the Cybus Industries – now Tyler Industries – logo popped up on its screen. Getting the number was the effort of a few button presses.
“Hello.”
“Hello, is this Jackie Tyler?” Small mercy, his voice didn’t crack.
“Yes, who’s this? This number’s not listed, y’know, if you’re a telemarketer or a lobbyist I’ll set my husband after you.”
“I was wondering if Rose was there, Jackie.” He heard a glass crash to the floor, and in the distance, a small child began crying.
“You?! Are you here?”
“No, Jackie. But is Rose?” The Doctor loosened his collar around his neck.
“Sure. Sure! How is this - oh, just explain it to her, she’ll go on about nothing else for days.” The phone muffled for a moment, but not enough that he didn’t hear the shout of “Rose Tyler get on the phone right now!”
One click was enough to make his hearts drop onto his stomach. “Hello, what’s the matter?”
“Rose Tyler.” Her name jumped off his tongue. The reply was hesitant and wary.
“Doctor?”
Tears threatened his eyelids. “The one and only. Hello.” He kept his voice light and playful.
Her voice crackled. “It’s been – my God, and now you’re on the phone. Are you here?”
“No. Just a tiny crack here, enough for this signal, nothing more.” He smiled. “More stable, but not quite so dramatic as last time, I’m afraid.”
“Too right.” Rose hiccupped. “It’s been a long five years.”
“That many?”
“Oh, sure it wasn’t so long for you. Marauding across the stars, getting into trouble, time passes like nothing.” She kept the banter up as well as he. “Speaking of which, how much have we got?”
“A while.” He glanced at the door. “An hour maybe?”
“That’s good, that’s better,” laughed Rose. “So, have you been alone? Probably not.”
The Doctor swallowed. “There’s been some guests. You’d have liked them.” He regaled her with the story of how their last talk had been interrupted by Donna, to her peals of laughter as he described flying the TARDIS in traffic. Then he talked about Martha, and the trouble with the Master. “Oh, and Captain Jack’s still alive, he joined up again to help us then. Runs the Torchwood here now, does some okay work.”
“Oh that’s wonderful. Give him a kiss for me.” She paused. “Anyone else?”
Good old Rose, always willing to ask the hard question. “Her name’s Buffy. Met her a little before we met up with Jack again. Popped right into the TARDIS, just like Donna. At least you always knocked.”
“Yeah, not that I ever needed to. She’s stayed with you a while then?”
“Yeah.”
“She pretty?”
He couldn’t remember his throat ever being so dry. “Yes.” He paused. “And ever so very brave. She used to remind me of you.”
Rose coughed. “And now?”
The Doctor tried to find the words. “You and her, you’re both one of a kind. Comparisons aren’t right. How about you? Anyone out there for you?”
The pause was short. “Fancied a couple. Been seeing a bloke this year, Daniel. American, works with Torchwood, he’s an archaeologist. You’d get on with him.”
“Bright blue eyes?”
He could hear her eyes widen over the connection. “You’re sure you’re not here?”
Shaking his head over the coincidences, he replied. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m also pretty sure I’d like him. Do you?”
Again her voice dropped. “A bit.” She sighed. “More than a little.”
He nodded. “Like I said, comparisons, not such a good thing.”
They moved away from the topic, discussing her adventures with Torchwood, the TARDIS’ ever continuing malfunctions, life with her new family, Mickey’s recent divorce, Jack’s immortality, all the things they’d been wanting to tell each other because somehow that helped make events real. Daniel cropped up in her stories, Buffy in his, but that didn’t matter. The bond remained between them, but the time moved so quickly, and his eyes kept straying to the doorway.
“So, will you ring me up again?” It was intended playfully, but contained a note of hope. The Doctor shifted in his seat.
“I don’t know. Not this way again. But Buffy keeps telling me that if I keep saying ‘impossible’ about what’s in front of my eyes she’s going to go shack up with Jack.”
Rose laughed. “Good for her. I’m glad-“ she stopped, and exhaled. “I hope she loves you too.”
“Rose-“
“We know Doctor. Not that it’s not nice to hear, but we know.”
“I do love you.”
“Yes. I know.” She wasn’t crying, and neither was he. “Thank you, for finding a way. Maybe we’ll find another.”
“I hope so Rose Tyler.”
“I love you Doctor. We’ll chat again soon.” The phone clicked off, and the Doctor sat there, staring at the door until there was a knock, followed by Buffy and a hand truck.
“Everything’s packed and the goodbye-committee is all set.” Buffy sat her bag and the boxes next to the TARDIS. “Does it work?”
The Doctor took her hand. “Yes, yes it does.”
Buffy moved closer to him. “Good. It’s time to go home.” He hugged her, burying his face in her hair, running his hands over her new, soft skin.
“I love you.”
The Doctor felt her start. It lasted only a fraction of a second before she squeezed him. “I love you too Doctor.”
Next