amberfocus | Post Pomp (14/22) (Reply)

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A/N: Ding. The Timey Whimey Detector has just gone off because there's STUFF. And it's about to get complicated.

Chapter Fourteen: Two Hundred Fifty-Six Days

The Doctor paced the confines of the little room he’d been locked up in for the past week. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration trying hard to keep his temper under control. The arrogance of that man, having him locked away like this! Who’d he think he was anyway? The Doctor kicked the wall. Uppity king of France. He’d just suggested a slightly better way of doing something for only the two hundred and twelfth time and apparently two hundred and twelve was one time too many for his royalness.

Louis was always suggesting he be on his way, had pretty much suggested it from the moment he’d gotten stuck here, but where was he to go, really? He knew that in another four months his eighth incarnation would be showing up to court and he could hitch a lift back to the 51st century with him. Meanwhile he had patiently bided his time. Reinette had insisted that Louis allow his presence because he had saved her life but she was busy most of the time and even her friendship was little consolation for him.

Reinette was charming, intelligent, cultured, and beautiful. She was also one of the most scheduled, structured, scheming, gossipy, social-climbing, back-stabbing people he’d ever had the chance to know. How he’d ever been charmed by her to begin with he didn’t understand. Little glimpses into her life had given him an illusion that had easily been shattered upon his first week stuck in this century. She certainly had had no intention of taking up a life with him when it would have meant giving up her life with the crown.

Not that he’d wanted her to, not really. Not just because he's had a silly crush. He hadn’t thought beyond saving her life and having her be eternally grateful. To be truthful, he hadn’t really thought that far either. He’d grabbed Arthur, sailed through that mirror, saved the woman’s life and forever destroyed his chance of returning to the TARDIS and Mickey and…Rose.

Even as he thought the name he cursed himself. He didn’t have any right to even think her name at this point. He had promised her in one breath that he’d never leave her, never abandon her and in nearly the next breath he had done precisely that. At least she’d never know it, though. He’d get himself to drop him off within hours of his departure and Rose would never have to deal with the fact that he’d been an unthinking idiot.

And he had been. What had been going through his head that he ever thought saving history was worth losing Rose? He could easily have done both. He was a Time Lord. There had been enough room on the back of that horse for Rose, too. Although it might have been a crowded fit with Mr. Mickey, but the Doctor wouldn’t have thought too much of leaving Mickey alone with only the TARDIS for company until his future self had come round and rescued the two of them.

Hopefully, Rose would never know just how badly he’d blown it. He could convince her that he’d had a plan all along, that he’d known he could get back to her even if it meant a bit of time apart. Rose cared about him enough to forgive him anything. He was pretty sure the girl even loved him. Bad idea that. Of course, he’d been having a lot of bad ideas when it came to Rose lately and he was pretty sure he loved her, too.

“Stupid,” he muttered to herself. “You’re not pretty sure. You do.” And he should have told her. He should have told her before he’d jumped through that mirror. Then she’d know he was coming back. What if she thought he wasn’t coming back?

Perhaps he shouldn’t have rested on his laurels and waited for his eighth self. He might have been able to figure something out. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried at first. He’d travelled to England and then on to Cardiff, hoping for the hint of the Rift that would open more fully later on, wondering if he could harness any leakage of energy. But it had been fruitless really. He might have been able to do something if he’d had more than just his sonic screwdriver and a ball of twine. But he didn’t. Nor did he have the resources he was used to.

Basically he was a kept man. Reinette gave him coin and expected nothing in return. Not making his own way in the universe, or France, chafed at his pride. Rose would have figured out a way for them to survive together, earn an income, and be self-sufficient, he was pretty sure. She was clever like that. Without her there to see the obvious for him, he was blinded to it.

He threw himself down on the bed and closed his eyes. That just conjured up the image of her that he didn’t want to see. Reproachful brown eyes hurt that he’d left her behind. Shoulders hunched over in that way she had of drawing in on herself when she felt he was neglecting her opinions. A look of distrust because he’d done something that put her in jeopardy. He teased her so often about being jeopardy friendly, but it was him that put her in it far too often.

A faint scent of ozone sizzled in the air. “So are you just going to lie there all day feeling sorry for yourself, Dad? Or are you going to get up off your sorry arse and find a way back to Mum?”

The voice was Jackie Tyler’s, but when he opened his eyes he saw his own looking back at him. She shoved a long strand of her chin length bangs out of the way. Her hair was his shade of brown as well and fell to the nape of her neck in a classic bob that he knew became popular again in the middle of the 21st century. The woman looked young, maybe twenty-five years old, but he had a feeling she was at least a good ten to twenty years older than that. She had a look of experience and competence about her that showed age far greater than her face did.

He took in her futuristic clothing. And the shape of her eyes, her nose, and her mouth, which were Rose’s. Then he realized with shock what she’d just said.

“Did you…did you just call me Dad?”

“Bit slow on the uptake, aren’t we?”

“Oi, don’t talk to me like that. If you’re my daughter, show a little respect.” The woman rolled her eyes just exactly the way Rose did when she thought he was being pompous.

“No ifs about it. Listen, Mr. Mighty Not So Last of the Time Lords, you’ve cocked things up. Big time. I don’t have the time to explain it all to you at the moment so you’re just going to have to come with me, unless you want to remain last of the Time Lords.” She held out a hand and hauled him up off the bed. “I’m Cassi, by the way.”

“Cassi?”

“Cassiopeia Andrea Tyler Harper if you want the full introduction, Dad. Not afraid of my own name, am I? Don’t put on airs and titles, do I?”

“Did I do something to make you hate me?” the Doctor said, completely flummoxed.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she began to speak rapid-fire. “Other than standing between me and Daniel when we wanted to get married, sabotaging my TARDIS the night we eloped, or abandoning my mother for two hundred days to nearly starve to death on that stupid space ship before she’s rescued by the wrong person while you popped back here to play hero and upset every future time line between here and doomsday, not to mention what happened to Uncle Mickey--.” Cassi slapped a hand over her mouth in a gesture very much like one of Rose’s. She visibly pulled herself under control. “You always could get me to talk too much.”

“I think that’s a genetic trait from your gran, not me.”

“Ha!” snorted Cassi. “Look, Dad, I love you, but we’ve never gotten on well. And I’m not that happy big brother sent me on this particular mission. But someone’s got to bail you out of this mess or none of us kids will ever be born and Mum will make the biggest mistake in her life.”

A loud popping sound filled the room and a much stronger rush of ozone ran at his nostrils. “Oh, great, and here’s trouble without a shirt. Jack bloody Harkness!” The Doctor was almost relieved that her acid tongue had turned on someone else.

He stared in shock at the young man before him. It was Jack all right, but a very young Jack. He was dressed in an electric blue uniform that made his eyes pop right out of his head. He was happy to see that Cassi seemed to be immune to the man. The last thing he wanted was a child of his reacting to Jack Harkness.

“Well, hello,” said Jack to Cassi. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

“And you’re bloody well not going to. Don’t think for one minute I don’t know what you’ve been up to with my mother!” she snapped in annoyance. “Or my daughter!”

Jack, looking slightly confused and somewhat proud of whatever the woman was implying, turned his eyes on the Doctor instead. “I’m here to rescue you. There’s a girl in the future that you owe a very big apology to. But first,” and Jack strode forward rapidly, pulling back his fist and plowing it into the Doctor’s jaw, “You have to deal with me.”

As the Doctor lay stunned on the floor, Cassi turned to give him a speculative look. “Maybe I haven’t given you enough credit,” she muttered.

11. http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/42217.html