The Hidden Well, Chapter Fifteen
Sep. 6th, 2007 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalleahPairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: PG
Betas:ivydoor , np_complete , platypus , and sensiblecat
Previous Chapters
In this chapter: "Connor Trabane, I present the most amazing ship in all the universe – oh, and I can personally vouch for the veracity of that statement – the amazing, wondrous TARDIS."
My apologies for the length of time it's taken me to post this; I hope it's worth the wait. I'll post Chapter Sixteen this weekend.
Rating: PG
Betas:
ivydoor , np_complete , platypus , and sensiblecat Previous Chapters
In this chapter: "Connor Trabane, I present the most amazing ship in all the universe – oh, and I can personally vouch for the veracity of that statement – the amazing, wondrous TARDIS."
My apologies for the length of time it's taken me to post this; I hope it's worth the wait. I'll post Chapter Sixteen this weekend.
--
"So," said Connor, not looking up from his careful study of the logs on the Doctor's analysis device, "tell me about this ship of yours." He hoped he sounded casual, composed, scientifically curious but emotionally detached. In reality, his mind kept leaping back to "dimensionally transcendental" with increasing excitement.
The Doctor's lips twitched, and his response was amused and equally casual. "Oh, you know. She travels from Point A to Point B, just like most ships, only Point A and Point B might be connected by a multi-dimensional hyperplane rather than a boring old two-dimensional line."
Connor mused on that for a moment, then smiled. "So when Emelia said 'odd blue box,' she really meant 'odd blue tesseract,' then?"
The Doctor's eyes twinkled merrily. "I thought it was prudent not to correct her."
"Good idea." He sobered abruptly and asked the question he had ached to ask, but had not allowed himself to ask, before he could stop himself. "Can I see it?"
"Her," corrected the Doctor, the twinkle undiminished. "I've been wondering how long it would take you to get around to asking." He stood up and stretched. "Yes, soon as Rose is back, we'll go."
When Rose and Emelia did return, Connor found himself explaining to his less-than-impressed wife that he was going to go off with the two travelers to move their ship to the new habitation unit.
"Thought they might need some help," he explained lamely. Emelia crossed her arms and he watched, with considerable dismay, as the crease between her eyes became more pronounced as she frowned. "I thought, after the day you've had, you might appreciate a little peace and quiet?" he said hopefully.
The crease deepened. "Don't pretend this is about me."
"Would you stay with the boys?" he asked. "I won't be long. It's just – oh Em, the sonic screwdriver was amazing, and this is a chance to see the ship."
"Go on," she said, sitting down on the couch with a puff of cushions. "We'll be here when you get back."
He didn't hop to the door. No, it was a careful, dignified procession, and the fact that he was out the door faster than either the Doctor or Rose was simply a coincidence.
…
Rose stood back from the pile of charred rubble that used to be Section 4 while the Doctor and Connor worked to clear a path to the TARDIS. Night had fallen while she and Emelia had tucked the boys into bed, and the lights around them painted the scene with yellowish artificial light. Everything looked grubby and washed out, even the white fence marking off the lawns of dirt in front of each habitation unit. She could see dirty handprints and smudges all along the formerly too-new white surface.
There was a heaving, crunching sound and then part of a wall toppled. Two distinct sets of muttered curses quickly followed. "All right?" she called, standing on tiptoe to try and see them, hidden in the rubble.
"As rain," called the Doctor. "Not that it rains here, not yet. Very dusty." There was a faint thump. "Bugger. Connor, these boots are entirely too big."
Rose giggled. Since the Doctor had still been barefoot, she had hauled them both back inside the flat and insisted that he borrow a pair of Connor’s old shoes for their trek. He seemed to be completely unconcerned about treading around the scene of a fire with his pale, unprotected feet. He had complained the entire way to Section 4 and walked theatrically, like he had been wearing skis rather than boots.
Connor reappeared at the entrance to the path they had cleared through the remains of the building and waved her in. She followed, picking her way carefully behind him and trying not to let the smell of burnt things overwhelm her. So much for Emelia's clean clothes, she thought.
The Doctor was waiting in the open doorway of the TARDIS with a broad grin. He stepped aside and gestured grandly. "Connor Trabane," he intoned with his best quiz show announcer voice, "I present the most amazing ship in all the universe – oh, and I can personally vouch for the veracity of that statement – the amazing, wondrous TARDIS. Come in, and please keep your hands inside the rails at all times."
Connor, with a look of wonder, stepped forward and looked around him, his eyes flicking from the time rotor to the console to the ceiling and all around. Rose felt her own mouth turn up in a grin as broad as the Doctor's. She had seen others react in amazement to the TARDIS, and it never ceased to thrill her. Without looking over at him, she reached out and took the Doctor's hand as they stood together in the doorway. He swung their joined hands together and beamed.
The gentle hum of the console room, a steady presence in Rose's life and almost imperceptible background noise for her now, seemed louder as she tried to listen and experience the room as Connor now did. He reached out and touched a graceful, curving column, which Rose knew to be faintly warm to the touch even when the room itself was cool. His attention shifted to the green, translucent tube of the time rotor at the centre of the console, following it upward to the ceiling with his eyes. She watched him trace each looping wire mentally from its connection point to its source. His curiosity was evident, but he seemed to want to soak it all in before he asked questions.
The Doctor released her hand to go and stand next to him. With a broad, manic grin, he spread out his arms in another expansive gesture. "Want to see her fly?" he asked.
Rose bounded over and took a seat on the captain's chair, deciding that if the Doctor chose to show off for a fellow scientist that there was a fair chance that it would be a bumpy ride. Since they hadn't installed the safety harness she'd joked with him about, she thought she would sit and hold on tight.
The Doctor was a dynamo, whirling around the console and rattling off explanations about what he was doing in a nonstop stream. Rose loved these frenetic moods of his. He was full of boundless energy, sheer joy at the journey itself and not a moment's thought for the destination. He whipped a bare foot up and onto the console as he half splayed himself out to reach two different controls. When did he take off the boots? she wondered in sudden confusion.
"Allons-y!" he cried, and whacked the console with a mallet.
"Good God," said Connor, grabbing onto one of the columns as the ship lurched in several different directions simultaneously. "Do you always – hit things like that?" His question was almost interrupted by a jolt that sent Rose's stomach up and into her throat. She closed her eyes and felt the exhilaration go through her. This was loads better than any roller coaster she could imagine.
"Percussive maintenance," explained the Doctor, running around the console with both hands in a blur of motion, "is good for the digestion. Or not. I'm making that up." He cackled wickedly and his wide eyes were filled with the same excitement that Rose felt coursing through her body.
"Is that a –" Connor leaned forward, still clinging to his column. "Combination lock? That's got to be an antique!"
"It was," said the Doctor happily, pumping vigorously at what Rose had long since stopped thinking of as a mere bicycle pump, "but it's got a much more interesting life now, don't you think?"
"Doctor?" she asked, struggling to be heard over the grating whine of the time rotor and the crashing about of their chaotic flight. A boot went flying past her and she had to whip her head quickly to the side to avoid being struck. "Where are we going?"
They landed with a crash and she heard the boot strike the wall behind her. The Doctor's head popped up from behind the console, his wild hair sticking out in all directions, and he leaped toward the police box doors. "Section 8, Habitation K," he announced, throwing the doors open onto a blandly decorated bedroom. Back in the closet, Rose thought with considerable amusement.
Connor unwound himself, one limb at a time, from around the column and surveyed the room with great caution. "Are you all right?" he asked her.
She grinned. "Come on." She grabbed his hand and towed him out into the bedroom. "Look, we're here," she said excitedly.
Connor, once he found himself back on stable ground, regained his composure. "Seems a bit inefficient, all that – rumbling and hitting and jumping about, to go less than a kilometer," he observed dryly.
The Doctor looked insulted. "I'll have you know –" Rose put a hand on his shoulder. "We took the scenic route," he sniffed. "We could have gone directly from one section to another without leaving normal space, but where's the fun in that? So we didn't."
Rose looked down the hallway and felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Doctor?" she said.
He was still defending his ship. "Inefficient! Hardly. She travels through time, Connor. How amazing is that? We can walk back in there and I can take you literally anywhere you can imagine. All of space and time, at your beck and call. Earth, 9500 B.C., as humans began to develop agriculture. The Library of Carsus. The Eye of Orion. San Francisco in 1966 for the last concert of the Beatles. Or, here in a century, to see the changes your technology has brought about. All of it is possible." His eyes glowed with an almost religious zeal.
"Doctor," said Rose, more insistently, and pointed toward the front room, where rosy light was gently streaming in through the window.
"Looks surprisingly like our last flat," he commented. "What is it?"
"It's daylight," she said.
The Doctor cursed, and cursed again, and flew down the hallway to the front door and threw it open with a bang.
Connor looked back and forth from him to Rose. "Daylight?" he repeated. "But that's not –" He stopped, and turned behind him to look through the still-open doors of the TARDIS to the console room. "What time is it?" he asked, carefully.
"7:24," the Doctor said from the door. "The good news is that we've only been gone about nine hours."
"Nine hours?" said Connor incredulously. "We took nine hours to get from one section to another?"
"As I said, we didn't –" began the Doctor, and stopped speaking at a severe look from Rose.
She put a comforting hand on Connor's shoulder. "It could have been worse, believe me," she said. "I'll help you explain things to Emelia."
Connor's face went pale, and he rushed past her to the comm in the front room. He pushed a few buttons and waited anxiously for a connection. "Em?" he said. "It's me. We're fine. I'll explain –"
"Connor!" cried the disconnected voice. Even in the tinny connection, Rose could hear fright and love and relief all woven together. Oh dear. She's going to be furious when she stops being scared.
"You've done it now," she told the Doctor, coming up behind him and winding her arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder and sighed. "I'm not sure which of you she's going to slap first."
The Doctor huffed and made an acid comment about too many people resorting to physical violence, and Rose advised him it would be good for him to keep his mouth shut and, for a change, let her do the talking.
"So," said Connor, not looking up from his careful study of the logs on the Doctor's analysis device, "tell me about this ship of yours." He hoped he sounded casual, composed, scientifically curious but emotionally detached. In reality, his mind kept leaping back to "dimensionally transcendental" with increasing excitement.
The Doctor's lips twitched, and his response was amused and equally casual. "Oh, you know. She travels from Point A to Point B, just like most ships, only Point A and Point B might be connected by a multi-dimensional hyperplane rather than a boring old two-dimensional line."
Connor mused on that for a moment, then smiled. "So when Emelia said 'odd blue box,' she really meant 'odd blue tesseract,' then?"
The Doctor's eyes twinkled merrily. "I thought it was prudent not to correct her."
"Good idea." He sobered abruptly and asked the question he had ached to ask, but had not allowed himself to ask, before he could stop himself. "Can I see it?"
"Her," corrected the Doctor, the twinkle undiminished. "I've been wondering how long it would take you to get around to asking." He stood up and stretched. "Yes, soon as Rose is back, we'll go."
When Rose and Emelia did return, Connor found himself explaining to his less-than-impressed wife that he was going to go off with the two travelers to move their ship to the new habitation unit.
"Thought they might need some help," he explained lamely. Emelia crossed her arms and he watched, with considerable dismay, as the crease between her eyes became more pronounced as she frowned. "I thought, after the day you've had, you might appreciate a little peace and quiet?" he said hopefully.
The crease deepened. "Don't pretend this is about me."
"Would you stay with the boys?" he asked. "I won't be long. It's just – oh Em, the sonic screwdriver was amazing, and this is a chance to see the ship."
"Go on," she said, sitting down on the couch with a puff of cushions. "We'll be here when you get back."
He didn't hop to the door. No, it was a careful, dignified procession, and the fact that he was out the door faster than either the Doctor or Rose was simply a coincidence.
…
Rose stood back from the pile of charred rubble that used to be Section 4 while the Doctor and Connor worked to clear a path to the TARDIS. Night had fallen while she and Emelia had tucked the boys into bed, and the lights around them painted the scene with yellowish artificial light. Everything looked grubby and washed out, even the white fence marking off the lawns of dirt in front of each habitation unit. She could see dirty handprints and smudges all along the formerly too-new white surface.
There was a heaving, crunching sound and then part of a wall toppled. Two distinct sets of muttered curses quickly followed. "All right?" she called, standing on tiptoe to try and see them, hidden in the rubble.
"As rain," called the Doctor. "Not that it rains here, not yet. Very dusty." There was a faint thump. "Bugger. Connor, these boots are entirely too big."
Rose giggled. Since the Doctor had still been barefoot, she had hauled them both back inside the flat and insisted that he borrow a pair of Connor’s old shoes for their trek. He seemed to be completely unconcerned about treading around the scene of a fire with his pale, unprotected feet. He had complained the entire way to Section 4 and walked theatrically, like he had been wearing skis rather than boots.
Connor reappeared at the entrance to the path they had cleared through the remains of the building and waved her in. She followed, picking her way carefully behind him and trying not to let the smell of burnt things overwhelm her. So much for Emelia's clean clothes, she thought.
The Doctor was waiting in the open doorway of the TARDIS with a broad grin. He stepped aside and gestured grandly. "Connor Trabane," he intoned with his best quiz show announcer voice, "I present the most amazing ship in all the universe – oh, and I can personally vouch for the veracity of that statement – the amazing, wondrous TARDIS. Come in, and please keep your hands inside the rails at all times."
Connor, with a look of wonder, stepped forward and looked around him, his eyes flicking from the time rotor to the console to the ceiling and all around. Rose felt her own mouth turn up in a grin as broad as the Doctor's. She had seen others react in amazement to the TARDIS, and it never ceased to thrill her. Without looking over at him, she reached out and took the Doctor's hand as they stood together in the doorway. He swung their joined hands together and beamed.
The gentle hum of the console room, a steady presence in Rose's life and almost imperceptible background noise for her now, seemed louder as she tried to listen and experience the room as Connor now did. He reached out and touched a graceful, curving column, which Rose knew to be faintly warm to the touch even when the room itself was cool. His attention shifted to the green, translucent tube of the time rotor at the centre of the console, following it upward to the ceiling with his eyes. She watched him trace each looping wire mentally from its connection point to its source. His curiosity was evident, but he seemed to want to soak it all in before he asked questions.
The Doctor released her hand to go and stand next to him. With a broad, manic grin, he spread out his arms in another expansive gesture. "Want to see her fly?" he asked.
Rose bounded over and took a seat on the captain's chair, deciding that if the Doctor chose to show off for a fellow scientist that there was a fair chance that it would be a bumpy ride. Since they hadn't installed the safety harness she'd joked with him about, she thought she would sit and hold on tight.
The Doctor was a dynamo, whirling around the console and rattling off explanations about what he was doing in a nonstop stream. Rose loved these frenetic moods of his. He was full of boundless energy, sheer joy at the journey itself and not a moment's thought for the destination. He whipped a bare foot up and onto the console as he half splayed himself out to reach two different controls. When did he take off the boots? she wondered in sudden confusion.
"Allons-y!" he cried, and whacked the console with a mallet.
"Good God," said Connor, grabbing onto one of the columns as the ship lurched in several different directions simultaneously. "Do you always – hit things like that?" His question was almost interrupted by a jolt that sent Rose's stomach up and into her throat. She closed her eyes and felt the exhilaration go through her. This was loads better than any roller coaster she could imagine.
"Percussive maintenance," explained the Doctor, running around the console with both hands in a blur of motion, "is good for the digestion. Or not. I'm making that up." He cackled wickedly and his wide eyes were filled with the same excitement that Rose felt coursing through her body.
"Is that a –" Connor leaned forward, still clinging to his column. "Combination lock? That's got to be an antique!"
"It was," said the Doctor happily, pumping vigorously at what Rose had long since stopped thinking of as a mere bicycle pump, "but it's got a much more interesting life now, don't you think?"
"Doctor?" she asked, struggling to be heard over the grating whine of the time rotor and the crashing about of their chaotic flight. A boot went flying past her and she had to whip her head quickly to the side to avoid being struck. "Where are we going?"
They landed with a crash and she heard the boot strike the wall behind her. The Doctor's head popped up from behind the console, his wild hair sticking out in all directions, and he leaped toward the police box doors. "Section 8, Habitation K," he announced, throwing the doors open onto a blandly decorated bedroom. Back in the closet, Rose thought with considerable amusement.
Connor unwound himself, one limb at a time, from around the column and surveyed the room with great caution. "Are you all right?" he asked her.
She grinned. "Come on." She grabbed his hand and towed him out into the bedroom. "Look, we're here," she said excitedly.
Connor, once he found himself back on stable ground, regained his composure. "Seems a bit inefficient, all that – rumbling and hitting and jumping about, to go less than a kilometer," he observed dryly.
The Doctor looked insulted. "I'll have you know –" Rose put a hand on his shoulder. "We took the scenic route," he sniffed. "We could have gone directly from one section to another without leaving normal space, but where's the fun in that? So we didn't."
Rose looked down the hallway and felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Doctor?" she said.
He was still defending his ship. "Inefficient! Hardly. She travels through time, Connor. How amazing is that? We can walk back in there and I can take you literally anywhere you can imagine. All of space and time, at your beck and call. Earth, 9500 B.C., as humans began to develop agriculture. The Library of Carsus. The Eye of Orion. San Francisco in 1966 for the last concert of the Beatles. Or, here in a century, to see the changes your technology has brought about. All of it is possible." His eyes glowed with an almost religious zeal.
"Doctor," said Rose, more insistently, and pointed toward the front room, where rosy light was gently streaming in through the window.
"Looks surprisingly like our last flat," he commented. "What is it?"
"It's daylight," she said.
The Doctor cursed, and cursed again, and flew down the hallway to the front door and threw it open with a bang.
Connor looked back and forth from him to Rose. "Daylight?" he repeated. "But that's not –" He stopped, and turned behind him to look through the still-open doors of the TARDIS to the console room. "What time is it?" he asked, carefully.
"7:24," the Doctor said from the door. "The good news is that we've only been gone about nine hours."
"Nine hours?" said Connor incredulously. "We took nine hours to get from one section to another?"
"As I said, we didn't –" began the Doctor, and stopped speaking at a severe look from Rose.
She put a comforting hand on Connor's shoulder. "It could have been worse, believe me," she said. "I'll help you explain things to Emelia."
Connor's face went pale, and he rushed past her to the comm in the front room. He pushed a few buttons and waited anxiously for a connection. "Em?" he said. "It's me. We're fine. I'll explain –"
"Connor!" cried the disconnected voice. Even in the tinny connection, Rose could hear fright and love and relief all woven together. Oh dear. She's going to be furious when she stops being scared.
"You've done it now," she told the Doctor, coming up behind him and winding her arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder and sighed. "I'm not sure which of you she's going to slap first."
The Doctor huffed and made an acid comment about too many people resorting to physical violence, and Rose advised him it would be good for him to keep his mouth shut and, for a change, let her do the talking.
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Date: 2007-09-08 06:16 pm (UTC)I'll be interested to hear it when you do; I just commented about some of the similarities between Connor and the Doctor to