moragmacpherson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moragmacpherson) wrote2009-01-20 02:13 am
moragmacpherson) wrote2009-01-20 02:13 am
Fic: The Lost Age (11/??) (Buffy/DrWho/Firefly)
Title: The Lost Age (11/??)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moragmacpherson
Rating: PG-15
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 thirty here. In the Firefly universe, it's at the beginning of the movie.
Disclaimer: If it's a character or a place, I don't own it. Some dialogue is recycled from the film.
Archive: Here, TtH. If you'd like it, let me know.
Betas: Depending on the chapter: MissJulie and/or Mishka,
Summary: Buffy, Jack, and the Doctor accidentally land in a system where aliens fear to tread.
There was a loose spring in the console room bench. Buffy’s arms twined around the railing, her head resting between the bars, the spring digging ever so slightly into her rear. If they weren’t in transit, she’d be up in the rafters. She opened one eye to look at her hammock, noting its fraying cords with some dismay. Jack may have kept going on about how shabby that Firefly was, but Buffy and the Doctor could hardly point fingers. They should stop by a junkyard sometime and find another old van with bench seats. Maybe they could do that after they dropped Jack back off at Torchwood, the Doctor always enjoyed a good junkyard expedition. Of course, Buffy would be sad to see the bench go: she had a number of fond memories of this one. She smiled at the thought of recreating them on a new one, settling further into the bench and driving the spring’s point just that much deeper into her rump. She sighed, blowing a tendril of hair out of her face, and hopped up to her feet.
“No rest for the wicked huh?” She ran a hand along the edge of the console. In reply, the TARDIS rumbled to a landing. “Yeah, I thought so.” Buffy pulled the monitor over, then blinked. “Gallifreyan? You never translate that for me.” Despite several educated button presses, the readout failed to switch to English. She glared at the display. “Fine. We’ll wait for him. But you’re just delaying the inevitable.”
“Resigning ourselves to Fate today, are we?” Buffy turned and rolled her eyes at the Doctor’s taunt. River and Simon trailed in behind him.
“Someone doesn’t seem to think I’m grownup enough to read the sensor readouts here on Miranda.”
Buffy had never heard River’s real voice before. “She wants to protect you, that’s all. Heart of the TARDIS relies on the heart of the Time Lord, and that relies on you. But you’re flaky, like rust, iron exposed to air turns red in time, crumbles beneath his feet.” Buffy flinched, while Simon developed a sudden fascination with his shoes. Unable to touch any of the humanoids, River’s hands were all over the TARDIS tracing roundels, humming deep in her throat, imitating the engines.
The Doctor responded by jumping up to the controls. “Hey there, my sweet ship, that’s enough sharing time.” He rapped the central column with his knuckles. “I’ve blocked out her passive receptors, but if you keep on shouting like that our young guest can’t help but have prying ears.”
“That she does,” said Buffy, her voice trailing off. Spectacles in place, the Doctor began examining the readings. Buffy decided to ignore the tightness in her chest for the moment in favor of finally really meeting her new, overly-perceptive sister-slayer. “She also has some pretty smooth moves. Nice to see you conscious again, River.” Buffy waved at the girl, who finally broke her gaze away from the ship to wriggle her fingers timidly in return.
“Sorry about, you know, the trying to kill you. I wasn’t myself,” she muttered into her chest.
Buffy flicked her hand in the air. “Eh, no biggie. This sort of thing happens to me all time, you’d be surprised. And hey there, Simon. Did you get any sleep yet?”
Simon stopped his foot-gazing, years of etiquette training not quite able to make him look directly at her. “A little bit.” He rubbed his head. “I think. Things get all- time is very, uh, fuzzy in that room.”
Buffy smiled. “That’s also pretty common around here. Comes with the TARDIS.” She raised her voice. “The arbitrarily protective, routinely manipulative TARDIS.” Even though Buffy felt the TARDIS was being particularly condescending with her lately, she did see fit to shoo River away from the ship’s wiring, distracting her with a deschal resonator. While River examined the glowing device, Buffy tilted her head towards the monitor. “So what’s so scary that I’m not allowed to see it, Doctor?”
The Doctor’s nostrils flared. “Hmmm. No goodly creatures to be found here, no life signs at all, that’s no good. Lots of structures, fourteen major settlements, environment’s perfectly suitable, which is quite a trick on a planet with this wide of an orbit, impressive engineering, late-spring weather with sunny skies, and minute traces of what appears to be some kind of sedative, or maybe an anti-psychotic medicine in the atmosphere, dopamine antagonist, serotonin sympathetic.” He tapped the screen a couple times. “Right now the levels are low enough that your bodies should be able to metabolize it without any ill-effects.”
Simon arched his brows. “You being a god and all, I suppose we need not worry about yours.” He stepped forward, scratching his head. “This deep into Reaver country, maybe they tried to use the sedative as a kind of aerosolized defense? Send the cannibals to sleep before they knock down the door? Call it, uh, passive-aggressive chemical warfare. But it must not have worked, maybe the concentration wasn’t high enough, like you said.”
The Doctor pursed his lips. “It’s a theory.” He chanced a glance at River, but she was too busy exploring the room to react to Simon’s postulating. Buffy simply shrugged and continued to shadow the girl. “There’s just the one weak distress signal, coming from a downed shuttle in this city. The TARDIS manifested up the street from it.” He pulled off his glasses, then rubbed his palms together, looking at his companions. “I take it none of us are having second thoughts about this?”
River planted her feet down at the doors, her back straightening. “It’s time.”
Buffy controlled the urge to wrap an encouraging arm around the girl’s shoulders, instead crossing her arms a few paces away. “Lost world of the Lost Age? How often do we get to explore one of them?”
The Doctor turned to Simon, who held up his hands. “Second thoughts? I’ve moved on to eleventh and twelfth thoughts. But I’ve never been able to say no to River.”
“Didn’t let me play with your hoverboard,” came the immediate retort.
Simon grinned. “One day, when you’re old enough for that kind of responsibility.” He sniffed. “Maybe.” River made a face at him.
Buffy shared a smile with the Doctor, who swallowed and nodded. “All right then. Allons-y.” Buffy admired the single, smooth movement with which the Doctor pulled his coat off the railing and onto his shoulders. He swept past River and made it to the doors, gently squeezing Buffy’s fingers as he pulled her to him. “Shall we?”
In response, Buffy pushed the door open behind her, letting Miranda’s sunlight stream in the TARDIS. Simon and River shielded their eyes from its brilliance, but the light appeared to dance in the Doctor’s gaze, adventure at his next footfall, eternity in his lips and eyes. A frisson of relief shook through Buffy as he led them outside. Miranda and River had given her the Doctor back.
Next
Author:
moragmacpherson Rating: PG-15
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 thirty here. In the Firefly universe, it's at the beginning of the movie.
Disclaimer: If it's a character or a place, I don't own it. Some dialogue is recycled from the film.
Archive: Here, TtH. If you'd like it, let me know.
Betas: Depending on the chapter: MissJulie and/or Mishka,
Summary: Buffy, Jack, and the Doctor accidentally land in a system where aliens fear to tread.
There was a loose spring in the console room bench. Buffy’s arms twined around the railing, her head resting between the bars, the spring digging ever so slightly into her rear. If they weren’t in transit, she’d be up in the rafters. She opened one eye to look at her hammock, noting its fraying cords with some dismay. Jack may have kept going on about how shabby that Firefly was, but Buffy and the Doctor could hardly point fingers. They should stop by a junkyard sometime and find another old van with bench seats. Maybe they could do that after they dropped Jack back off at Torchwood, the Doctor always enjoyed a good junkyard expedition. Of course, Buffy would be sad to see the bench go: she had a number of fond memories of this one. She smiled at the thought of recreating them on a new one, settling further into the bench and driving the spring’s point just that much deeper into her rump. She sighed, blowing a tendril of hair out of her face, and hopped up to her feet.
“No rest for the wicked huh?” She ran a hand along the edge of the console. In reply, the TARDIS rumbled to a landing. “Yeah, I thought so.” Buffy pulled the monitor over, then blinked. “Gallifreyan? You never translate that for me.” Despite several educated button presses, the readout failed to switch to English. She glared at the display. “Fine. We’ll wait for him. But you’re just delaying the inevitable.”
“Resigning ourselves to Fate today, are we?” Buffy turned and rolled her eyes at the Doctor’s taunt. River and Simon trailed in behind him.
“Someone doesn’t seem to think I’m grownup enough to read the sensor readouts here on Miranda.”
Buffy had never heard River’s real voice before. “She wants to protect you, that’s all. Heart of the TARDIS relies on the heart of the Time Lord, and that relies on you. But you’re flaky, like rust, iron exposed to air turns red in time, crumbles beneath his feet.” Buffy flinched, while Simon developed a sudden fascination with his shoes. Unable to touch any of the humanoids, River’s hands were all over the TARDIS tracing roundels, humming deep in her throat, imitating the engines.
The Doctor responded by jumping up to the controls. “Hey there, my sweet ship, that’s enough sharing time.” He rapped the central column with his knuckles. “I’ve blocked out her passive receptors, but if you keep on shouting like that our young guest can’t help but have prying ears.”
“That she does,” said Buffy, her voice trailing off. Spectacles in place, the Doctor began examining the readings. Buffy decided to ignore the tightness in her chest for the moment in favor of finally really meeting her new, overly-perceptive sister-slayer. “She also has some pretty smooth moves. Nice to see you conscious again, River.” Buffy waved at the girl, who finally broke her gaze away from the ship to wriggle her fingers timidly in return.
“Sorry about, you know, the trying to kill you. I wasn’t myself,” she muttered into her chest.
Buffy flicked her hand in the air. “Eh, no biggie. This sort of thing happens to me all time, you’d be surprised. And hey there, Simon. Did you get any sleep yet?”
Simon stopped his foot-gazing, years of etiquette training not quite able to make him look directly at her. “A little bit.” He rubbed his head. “I think. Things get all- time is very, uh, fuzzy in that room.”
Buffy smiled. “That’s also pretty common around here. Comes with the TARDIS.” She raised her voice. “The arbitrarily protective, routinely manipulative TARDIS.” Even though Buffy felt the TARDIS was being particularly condescending with her lately, she did see fit to shoo River away from the ship’s wiring, distracting her with a deschal resonator. While River examined the glowing device, Buffy tilted her head towards the monitor. “So what’s so scary that I’m not allowed to see it, Doctor?”
The Doctor’s nostrils flared. “Hmmm. No goodly creatures to be found here, no life signs at all, that’s no good. Lots of structures, fourteen major settlements, environment’s perfectly suitable, which is quite a trick on a planet with this wide of an orbit, impressive engineering, late-spring weather with sunny skies, and minute traces of what appears to be some kind of sedative, or maybe an anti-psychotic medicine in the atmosphere, dopamine antagonist, serotonin sympathetic.” He tapped the screen a couple times. “Right now the levels are low enough that your bodies should be able to metabolize it without any ill-effects.”
Simon arched his brows. “You being a god and all, I suppose we need not worry about yours.” He stepped forward, scratching his head. “This deep into Reaver country, maybe they tried to use the sedative as a kind of aerosolized defense? Send the cannibals to sleep before they knock down the door? Call it, uh, passive-aggressive chemical warfare. But it must not have worked, maybe the concentration wasn’t high enough, like you said.”
The Doctor pursed his lips. “It’s a theory.” He chanced a glance at River, but she was too busy exploring the room to react to Simon’s postulating. Buffy simply shrugged and continued to shadow the girl. “There’s just the one weak distress signal, coming from a downed shuttle in this city. The TARDIS manifested up the street from it.” He pulled off his glasses, then rubbed his palms together, looking at his companions. “I take it none of us are having second thoughts about this?”
River planted her feet down at the doors, her back straightening. “It’s time.”
Buffy controlled the urge to wrap an encouraging arm around the girl’s shoulders, instead crossing her arms a few paces away. “Lost world of the Lost Age? How often do we get to explore one of them?”
The Doctor turned to Simon, who held up his hands. “Second thoughts? I’ve moved on to eleventh and twelfth thoughts. But I’ve never been able to say no to River.”
“Didn’t let me play with your hoverboard,” came the immediate retort.
Simon grinned. “One day, when you’re old enough for that kind of responsibility.” He sniffed. “Maybe.” River made a face at him.
Buffy shared a smile with the Doctor, who swallowed and nodded. “All right then. Allons-y.” Buffy admired the single, smooth movement with which the Doctor pulled his coat off the railing and onto his shoulders. He swept past River and made it to the doors, gently squeezing Buffy’s fingers as he pulled her to him. “Shall we?”
In response, Buffy pushed the door open behind her, letting Miranda’s sunlight stream in the TARDIS. Simon and River shielded their eyes from its brilliance, but the light appeared to dance in the Doctor’s gaze, adventure at his next footfall, eternity in his lips and eyes. A frisson of relief shook through Buffy as he led them outside. Miranda and River had given her the Doctor back.
Next