Dark Holiday

NOTE: This is a literally a first draft, and as such, the content has not yet been edited.

Doctor Who: Dark Holiday (working title)

by

Nancy G.

(4^th June, 2008)

Doctor Who is copyright of the British Broadcasting Corporation. All rights reserved.

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Doctor Who: Dark Holiday (working title)

by

Nancy G.

(4th June, 2008)

Doctor Who is copyright of the British Broadcasting Corporation. All rights reserved.

CHAPTER ONE

It was an overcast day in late May, as a bleak wind moaned over the barren moor. It bent the grasses and flowers, carrying with it the vague dampness of rain, which was falling in the distant mountains. Anne Clark was at her wit’s end. She and her twelve year old son Rory were on their way to a holiday camp in the mountains for the weekend, when a tyre on her car had developed a puncture. She’d opened the boot, only to discover that the spare tyre had somehow gone missing. Now, she and Rory were alone by the side of the road, miles from nowhere, hoping for help to arrive.

Sitting on the front passenger seat of his mother’s Skoda, facing backwards, and looking down the road, Rory mumbled, “Try it again?” His mother only shook her head. “It’s no use, Rory.” She said, looking helplessly at the mobile, clutched uselessly in her hand, “I can’t get a signal. We’ll just have to wait for someone to happen by.” Anne looked at her son. His blond hair was tousled by the wind, as he stared sullenly down the empty valley. She glanced ahead, up the long hill, hoping against hope to see another vehicle appear like magic over the rise. But, after four hours of waiting, they were still alone, with nothing but each other and the wind, for company.

Rory shifted restlessly in the seat. “I’m hungry,” he sulked, “and cold. Some holiday this turned out to be.” Anne frowned. “Oh, stop your complaining, Rory. If you’re cold, put on your anorak, for goodness sake. Besides, where’s your sense of adventure?” She brushed a strand of her long brown hair from her eyes, forcing herself to smile, “Trust me, someday you and your mates will get a laugh out of all of this.” Rory just rolled his eyes and said nothing.

Anne sighed and leaned her head back against the driver’s seat. Just then, over the wind, she thought she heard a noise. “Mum!” Rory exclaimed, “I think someone’s coming!” With a rush of relief, she got out of the car. Shading her eyes against the mid-afternoon glare, Anne followed the direction of her son’s finger, as he pointed down the valley. There, in the distance, a vehicle was slowly winding its way up the long road. She anxiously watched what looked like a blue motor home, crawling along the narrow pavement with a wretched grinding of it gears.

As it finally came up to them, it stopped. Admonishing Rory to stay put, Anne walked over to the driver’s side window of the old Morris camper. Rory angrily slumped down in the seat, muttering, “I’m not a child, you know.” His mum looked hopefully at the driver, “Can you help me, please?” A thin, silver-haired man rolled down his window and smiled at her. “What’s the matter love? Have a break-down, did you?” He asked cheerfully. Before Anne could reply, the man’s wife had already climbed down from the passenger seat of their beat-up camper, and was clucking over Anne’s misfortune. “It’s a good thing we happened along, isn’t it dear? You could have been out here all day! Hardly anyone takes this road any longer, since they put in that new motorway.”

The old woman didn’t seem to notice Rory still sitting in the car, as she steered Anne to the side door of the vehicle. “My name’s Emma, by the way, Emma Plock.” She spoke rapidly, “Come on now, why don’t I make you a quick cuppa’ tea, while my John sees to your motor, alright?” Before Anne could protest, the short, rotund woman had bustled her inside the cramped interior of the camper. Anne never noticed that John never got out of the Morris, never had time to realize that the old man hadn’t even bothered to switch off the engine. In fact, Anne never noticed anything else, ever again. Rory cried out as her heard his mum’s terrified scream from inside the old motor home. He rushed out of the car calling for his mum, but it was too late, the camper was already driving away. Inside, the two old people were laughing.

CHAPTER TWO

Glowing brightly green, the Tardis’ central column slowly rose and fell, its ancient engines sounding like an out-of-tune musical saw. The Doctor was leaning back casually against the console chair, absently watching it move. His friend Donna, came into the room, dressed casually in designer jeans and a burgundy jumper. “I’m ready,” she announced cheerfully. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow in puzzlement. “Ready for what?” She frowned, “For wherever we’re going.” Then frowning deeper she asked, “We ARE going somewhere, Doctor? I mean, we’re not just taking the Tardis out to some cosmic garage for it’s ten-thousand light year oil change, or something, are we?”

The Doctor merely raised his other eyebrow at her. Putting her hands on her hips, Donna continued, “Do you want me to stop nagging you?” The Doctor looked as if he was tempted to say yes, but instead sprang to his feet and began piloting his ship, in his usual frantic manner. “Right! No sense hanging around the space-time vortex being a Time-Lord slacker, not my style really. What do you say we go have ourselves a bit of a lark, eh? I’m sure it must be a nice day out there in the universe, somewhere. Why don’t we just let the Tardis take us someplace where we can go for a nice stroll in the sunshine, have a nosh, do the pub quiz, watch the footie–that is what you human’s do on weekends, isnt it? I’m always a tad confused about human’s ideas of relaxation….” In that vein, Donna silently let the Doctor gabble away. as he gamboled about the console deck. A few minutes later, the Tardis re-materialized near a rock outcrop, on a windswept moor.

Shrugging into his coat, the Doctor stepped out of the Tardis door, looking around at the bleak landscape. Following close behind him, Donna said, “Are you sure we’re on Earth? Looks sort of alien to me.” The Doctor sniffed loudly. “Do you need a tissue?” Donna asked, “Just do me a favour and say yes…I’d rather you didn’t use your sleeve again…” The doctor put up a hand and shushed her. “I’m fine, Donna. I was just checking the air. Smells like England, to me.” She looked at the distant hills. “But, where?” Suddenly looking alert, he put up a finger and shushed her again. “Not now, Donna. Just be quiet for a moment, and let me listen, alright?” She shook her head, confused. “I don’t hear anything, Doctor. Just the wind.”

Then, Donna did hear something. Like a keening sound., being carried on the wind. “What is that?” She asked. But, she was asking thin air, because the Doctor was already sprinting away from her, down the grassy slope. Following carefully in his wake, Donna saw the Doctor run behind a large outcropping of rock. She came around the jagged stones, and slid to a halt. She saw the Doctor standing over a body. A young girl, about fifteen years old, was sat on the stony ground, holding the head of a young man, in her lap.

The young boy, who appeared to be the same age, was dressed in a long coat and corduroy trousers, and had a tweed cap on his tousled head. Donna reckoned that judging by the the boy’s and girl’s clothing, she and the Doctor must have gone back to perhaps the late 19th or early 20th century. But it was the lad’s face that most attracted Donna’s attention. He had no colour at all–it was as if the boy had been completely drained. The Doctor crouched beside the boy, his face seemed suddenly creased with tiredness and age. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I’m so sorry.” The boy lay sprawled out on his back, eyes wide in his final moment of terror. One hand still was dug into the earth, clutching the mud and stones beside him. The lonely wind whistled between the cold, unforgiving stones, punctuated by the girls sobs.

CHAPTER THREE

Donna went over and put a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder. Strands of the girl’s dark hair were plastered to the side of her face, clinging to the tears that coursed down her cheeks. “It’s alright, we’re here now.” She said in a comforting voice. The girl’s long blue dress was muddy and torn. Without looking at Donna or the Doctor, she began rocking back and forth and starting rambling, “Kevin’s been missing for two days. I was so worried about him. He was to meet me near the Hopewell bridge, Thursday night. I think he was going to ask me to the dance at the school, he seemed so nervous. Kevin was always so shy. It took him months just to get ’round to kissin’ me, and even then it was only a quick peck on the cheek! She stroked the boy’s cold waxy forehead. “He was so good to me. Always had a smile for me, always there, looking out for me, making sure I wanted for nothing. I–I can’t believe he’s gone.” For the first time, she looked up tearfully at Donna, “Who could have done this awful thing to him? Kevin wouldn’t have harmed a fly. I don’t understand.”

Donna looked up at the Doctor, as if waiting for him to say something. For just a moment, the Doctor simply crouched there, silent and grave. While the girl was talking, he’d been surreptitiously examining the boy’s body for signs of how he’d died. Now, the Doctor brooded over a discovery he’d made, wondering how much he could actually tell the grief-stricken young woman, without driving her over the edge into madness. He signed and asked softly, “What’s your name?” The Doctor reached into his coat pocket and handed her some tissues. She took them without seeming to really notice them. “Cath-Catherine.” She sniffed, “Catherine Taylor.”

The Doctor looked into her eyes, trying to maintain eye contact. The first thing he needed to do was to draw the girl’s focus away from the corpse, so he could get some answers out of her. “Well, Catherine, I’m the Doctor and this is Donna.” He said evenly. “We’re going to need to ask you a few questions, and I want you to try and answer them as best you can, alright? We’re too late to help Kevin, here, but if whoever did this is still out there, you can help us to prevent any more deaths like this. Do you understand?” She gave him a bewildered look, and Donna, stroking the girl’s hair, said, “It’s alright, you can trust him. The Doctor wants to make sure no one else has to go through what you’re feeling right now.” Mechanically wiping her face with the tissue, Catherine looked up at the Doctor and nodded her assent. The Doctor gave her a slight smile, and said, “Good girl, you’re very brave, Catherine Taylor.”

Standing, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets, looking down at her. “You said Kevin went missing on Thursday. Do you have any idea where he was going, why he might have ended up way out here?” Catherine shook her head. “I don’t know. He sometimes went out walking here on the moor, because he said he liked the open places, that being out here made him feel free, somehow. He was an orphan on the streets in London, when he was twelve, he got collared by the police for stealing an orange, and spent a year in jail. Never liked closed spaces, after that.” “A year in jail for stealing an orange!” Donna gasped. The Doctor waved her to silence. “Not now, Donna. You can be outraged later.” He squatted down again. “I need you to think, try and remember, was there anyone else around, that day? Maybe some stranger, or someone new to the area?”

Catherine thought about it and shook her head in the negative. “There’s been no strangers through the village in a couple of weeks, and the only new people are a young newlywed couple, who’ll be spending their summers here. They’ve rented old Mrs. Gavin’s cottage, down by the river.”

The Doctor looked up thoughtfully. “Have they? What do you know about them? Is there anything different about them? Anything unusual you’ve noticed, anything at all, no matter how so small?” He urged her. Catherine seemed to draw a blank for a moment, and started to answer ‘no’, when she stopped. The Doctor leaned forward. “What is it?” He asked eagerly. “Well, I don’t know if it’s all that unusual. But, my Uncle George owns the village shop, and sometimes I help him out on Saturday mornings. I’ve noticed that the young lady, Mrs. Williams, buys an awful lot of salt. I overheard her ask my uncle if she could place a special order for a barrel. Took Uncle George by surprise, that did!”

The Doctor dug his hands down into his coat pockets and began pacing furiously. Donna bent down, and helped the girl up, “Come on, you’ll catch your death down there. We’ll take you home, and see that your Kevin is seen to.” She brushed a strand of hair from Catherine’s eye, and gently turned her away, so she was no longer facing the boy’s body. “Tell me, did that woman ever give your uncle a reason for needing so much salt?” She asked the girl.

The Doctor whirled around and stood there, looking intently at Donna and Catherine. The girl sniffed and nodded. “That’s the other strange thing. I heard her say she was preserving some meat. Yet later, when her husband came in to pick up the barrel of salt, he claimed that they needed it because they had a bad infestation of slugs.” Donna glanced at the Doctor and they simultaneously raised their eyebrows. Then, sadness returned to his face, as he squatted down and closed young Kevin’s eyes. Straightening again, the Doctor’s eyes were afire with determination to seek out the truth. “Right!” He exclaimed. “I think we’ll see Catherine home, and then pay a little visit on this Mrs. Williams–maybe I can put a little salt under her tail, and get some answers.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Pushing open the wooden gate which lead to a small stone cottage, the Doctor paused and looked around. Donna noted that the place seemed deserted, with only a few scattered sheep, grazing upon the hillside behind the back garden. “What do ‘ya think?” she asked, “Shall we invite ourselves to tea?” The Doctor turned and raised an eyebrow, then grinned at her, “Not a bad idea, Donna. Oooh, I hope she’ll serve some cake and sandwiches. I’m feeling a bit peckish.” He gazed at the house, then at the sheep on the hill, gesturing to them. “You think if I asked them nicely, they might know if anything baaa-d may have happened, ’round these parts?”

Donna glanced at the animals and smirked, “Unless your real name is Doctor Dolittle, I’d say that’s probably a baaa-d idea.” The Doctor winced at her good-naturedly, then faced the little flock and called out, “BAAAHHH”–which came out sounding not so much as a bleat,  as more of a deep belch. The sheep on the hillside ceased their grazing, and then  bolted away to another part of the pasture. Donna unsuccessfully tried to hide her laugh. Nudging him, she said, “Come on, you big…sheep scarer. Let’s try the bell, shall we?” Giving the fleeing animals a disgruntled look, the Doctor shrugged  and trudged up the path to the front door.

Donna was about to ring the bell pull, when the door abruptly swung open in their faces. A young woman stood there, looking expectantly at them. She seemed to be in her early twenties and was rather plain looking, with short straight brown hair. Her slightly bovine face and drab grey dress might have made her seem somewhat frumpish, yet the young woman was wearing a pleasant smile, as if she was delighted to have company.  ”There you are! Have a nice walk from the village, did you?” She asked.

The Doctor and Donna exchanged looks, raising their eyebrows. He shurgged as if to say, he didn’t have a clue, either. Smiling, the Doctor belted out, “Hello! I’m the Doctor and this is Donna. And you must be Mrs. Williams. Very nice to meet you.” He rattled off, ”I must say, Mrs., that yes, it is a cracking day for a ramble, but Donna and were a bit parched, so we’d thought we’d pop ’round for a spot of tea and a nice chat. I love a chat and a cuppa’, don’t you, Donna? I could do with some cake and sandwiches, though. Especially cucumber and egg, I like cucumber and egg sandwiches, just the thing for a late afternoon nosh.  Mind if we come in?” The Doctor asked, and as he did so, he stepped around the young woman and into the cottage. Donna was getting used to the Doctor’s rather unusual perception of basic human manners. Fixing a warm smile on her face, she followed the Doctor’s lead. “Oh, this is a chaming cottage, I’ll bet you’ve done wonders with it, decorating and all that.” She cooed smoothy, as she stepped over the threshold.

Strangely, the young woman didn’t seem to be at all put out or surprised by the Doctor’s behaviour. In fact, she almost seemed thrilled with it. The Doctor was already busy, snooping at the knick-knacks cluttering nearby table, and hadn’t noticed Mrs. Williams hurriedly shutting the door–and locking it. But, Donna did. She noted that the young woman had descretely placed the key behind a vase on another stand, before turning to the Doctor. “Well, let’s see you two get all comfy, before I go and put the kettle on, shall we?” She said, ushering them into a small lounge, and seating them on the settee. The room was decorated with so many dark heavy funishings and knick-knacks, that they made the lounge look even smaller than it seemed. 

As she had walked into the room, Donna felt like the walls were closing in on her. Looking at the retreating back of Mrs. Williams, as she bustled towards the kitchen,  Donna suddenly grew cold inside. Giving an involuntary shudder, she heard the young woman say,  ”I’ll have to tell the mister we have company. Won’t he be delighted! We’ve not had many visitors lately, and I’m sure he’d enjoy your company as much as I.” As the woman left, Donna started when she felt the Doctor’s cool hand on hers. “Are you alright?” He asked softly, concerned. She managed a smile, “It’s nothing really, I’m fine.” Yet, the Doctor persisted. “What is it?” When Donna hesitated, he smiled and said, “It’s alright, Donna. Whatever it is, I’ll believe you. I promise.”

Donna smiled back, uncertainly. “It’s–it’s nothing I can put my finger on. Only…” The Doctor leaned forward, and whispered, “Only what? Something about this place makes you uneasy? Something you can’t explain?” Looking startled, Donna fleetingly wondered if the Doctor had somehow read her mind. She nodded. “Yeah. I wish I knew why, but I don’t. Sorry. Maybe it’s the fact that she seemed to be expecting us, that was just a little creepy.” “Or,” added the Doctor, “maybe it’s the fact that she’s locked us in?” Donna looked at him. “You saw that? What, do you have eyes in the back of your head–wait, don’t tell me if you do, I don’t want to know.”

The Doctor grinned, “Well, better there, than the back of my–” “Buns and tea!” Mrs. Williams chortled, whisking back ino the room with the tea tray. Placing the tray down on a nearby table, the woman poured the tea and passed out the buns. Pulling up a chair, she sat. “Oooh, isn’t this lovely?” She said, as she took a sip of tea. Donna tried the tea, it was amazingly good, and she said so. “My own special blend, I’m so glad you like it.” The young woman said. The Doctor gave the slightest pause, before sipping his tea. “Mr. Williams is out feeding the hens, but he’ll be in directly to join me–us. I know he’ll probably be famished.”

Donna was about to ask the young woman a question, when suddenly her head began to feel woozy. She thought it might be the closness of the room, until her eyes began to blur. Concentrating–for her mind seemed to be wandering, Donna looked over at the Doctor. He was staring at his cup, when it fell to the floor, breaking on the flagstones. The sound of the shattering china seemed far away to her. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but then her own cup seemed to slip from her hands. Vaugely, Donna heard a someone else enter the room. “Is this them, then?” A strange man’s voice asked–a young man, by the sound of it. “Yes, but I don’t think we’ll have to worry about them asking too many questions about us, any longer, do you, dear?” Mrs. Williams said. “No, Missus, I don’t. They certainly look healthy don’t they?” He asked. Donna could no longer see, slipping into a deep coma-like slumber, the last words she heard was the young woman asking, “Did you bring the straws?”

                                                  

                                                  CHAPTER FIVE

Donna’s prone body lay slumped on the settee, and the young couple watched as the Doctor’s eyes fluttered, then closed. Mr. and Mrs. Williams smiled at each other. Mrs. Williams held out her hand, and her husband slipped what appeared to be a drinks straw into it. Smiling with eagerness, she leaned over the Doctor and rolled his head to one side, exposing his neck.

Mr. Williams, who was dressed in country attire, trying to blend in with the locals, casually looked out the window. He spied the distant figure of the local constable, pedaling up the dirt track leading to the cottage. “Blast! That’s all we need.” He muttered. His young wife turned and gave him a questioning look. “What is it, dear?” He gestured towards the window. “Constable James is paying us a visit, it seems, my dear.” Rather than seeming worried, she merely smirked and shrugged, “Well, what’s one more for supper? You did say you were hungry, dear.” 

Mr. Williams frowned. “But, he’s local dear, not some ne’er do well or a stranger, that no one will ever miss.” She frowned, “We’re here on our honeymoon, dear. That nice young couple down at the cottage, that’s how everyone sees us. We’re above suspicion. Trust me, they’ll think some wandering gypsy or escaped convict got him.” Pausing, she smiled sweetly at him, and said blithely, “Don’t worry, my sweet. We can tell them that we saw some suspicious stranger lurking around our back garden, and who’s to say we didn’t? Now relax, we’ve nothing to fear.” So saying, she leaned over the Doctor,  adjusted his neck angle again, and bore down on him with the tube she held in her hand.

The Doctor’s finger came up, and pressed against the end of the straw. Opening his eyes, he looked up into her shocked face and smiled genially…but with a coldness behind his gaze. “I think one bite from a plasmavore is enough for ten lifetimes, thanks.” Mr. Williams gave a startled gasp, and his wife backed away from the Doctor, alarmed. The Doctor quickly stood, cold and irresolute. Sparring a quick glance at Donna, his features changed for just a second, a flicker of worry and guilt flittering breifly across his face, before the steely veil of a Time Lord’s anger returned to his eyes.

Mrs. Williams quickly tried to re-gain her composure. “We can still have our little tea-time snack, there’s two of us, and only one of you.” The Doctor merely raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I can count, thanks. Very good at numbers, me. For instance, I know that It would take exactly three-hundred and seventy-eight miligrams of powdered gloschstock weed, to put me into even a light snooze. And, if my tatste buds were right…and they always are, because, well, I’m…me. Anyway,” he lurched on, “there were only twenty-four miligrams in that tea, which wouldn’t even cause me to  crack a yawn, I’m afraid…mind you, I don’t half mind the taste. I used to put it in my tea all the time, back home on Galifrey…better than sugar, that. However,” He ceased his levity as anger tightened his features once more, “my friend Donna is susceptible to its effects. And that, makes me very, very angry. A whole lorry load of angry. And trust me, you reaallly don’t want a ticked off Time Lord on your hands.”

The young man gasped. “A Time Lord!” The couple exchanged fearful glances. The Doctor merely nodded. “Yes, and I’m giving you one warning, it’s all your going to get. You’ve already taken one life–that I know of. Get out, leave this planet and go somewhere else, preferably,” he said as he eyed them with unconceiled disgust,  “somewhere where I’ll never see you again, and where you can’t harm any more humans.” Mr. Williams nodded as if he suddenly understood. He looked at his wife. “Oh, dear. I believe we’ve harmed his pet, you know how attached some people can get to their pets.” The Doctor’s eyes flashed indignantly, “She not my ‘pet,’” he growled, “she’s my FRIEND. A brilliant friend, one of the best I’ve ever had, and…” he stopped, looking down at the floor and clenching his fists, his chest heaving.

Wthout warning, the woman grabbed a nearby heavy vase and swung it at the Doctor’s head. “We’re not going anywhere, you are…to wherever it is Time Lord’s go when they die!”

                                                 CHAPTER SIX

The young woman missed, because just then, Donna’s leg shot out and tripped her. The vase dropped with a heavy thud to the floor. The Doctor looked at Donna and gave her an affectionate and relieved grin. ”Thanks for that.” He said, before stepping back,  away from the newlywed alien couple. 

The Doctor gave Donna a concerned frown. “Are you alright?” He asked softly.  Dona nodded sleepliy and yawned. “Yeah. I’m fine. They drugged us, didn’t they?” The Doctor nodded grimly and then his face grew somber. He faced two aliens and withdrew two darts and his sonic screwdriver from his pocket. They looked at him. “You can’t stop us, you don’t have any weapons.” The Doctor was silent for a moment, then he said with quiet menace, “Oh yes, I do. I have my mind, and I have this…” he held up the sonic screwdriver. “…and these.” He gestured to the darts. Holding the darts in one hand, he sonicked the tips. Then the Doctor looked at the pair. “Last chance. What do you say, hmm? You’ll never get another, not ever.” Though he said it softly, for some reason, his tone held more menace in it, than if he had shouted a command.

The woman shook her head, “You can do nothing. a couple of pub darts won’t even slow us down, you’re a dead man, Doctor. Get him…” With that command, the young man pulled a small laser pistol from his pocket, intent on killing the Doctor. The Doctor heard Donna call out his name, but without hesitation, he flung the two darts, one after the other, right at the hearts of the two aliens. First the young man, than the young woman, cried out, and then collasped to the floor.

Feeling Wobbly, Donna stood. Reaching behind him, not taking his eyes off the two bodies on the floor, the Doctor held Donna against him, to steady her. His eyes suddenly appeared old and sad. “Are they dead?” She asked. “Yeah.” He replied bitterly.  Donna looked up at him inquiringly. “Who–or rather what, were they? And, what did you do to stop them?”  He shrugged. “They were plasmavores–they’re a humanoid off-shoot of the vampriac genus family. They live on blood. That’s why they needed so much salt, their bodies use it up rather quickly. Fortunately though, unlike vampires, plasmavoores aren’t immortal, although they do have a slightly longer life span than you humans. They also have a higher reisitance to death than a normal human would. A regular pub dart through the heart, wouldn’t have been more to them, than a flea bite to a dog. But, they have one flaw.”

Donna looked at the bodies curiously. “What’s that, Doctor?” The Doctor held up his sonic screwdriver. “To a human, magnetic fields are relatively harmless–even to a plasmavore, the are-usaully, harmless. But, inside some of their internal organs–particularly their hears, plasmavores have a particularly rare mineral, a mineral much like one here on earth that you are probably quite familiar with.” He paused for effect and Donna looked at him askance. “So, come on, out with the rest of it, what’s so special about their hearts? The Doctor grinned. “They have trace amounts of a mineral which has much the same properties of gold.”

Donna looked at him disbelivingly. “Get out! You’re saying these..things, these plasma whats-its, actually have hearts of gold? No way!” The Doctor smiled, “Not actual gold Donna, but very close to it. And, with this,” he wiggled his sonic screwdriver,  “I could change the electorstatic discharge in the metal of those darts, thereby raising the transient peak to errode that special mineral inside their bodies,  which once it penetrates the chest, instantly weakens their heart muscle. Basically, I made their hearts more human. Dart to the heart would kill a human.” “And, so,” Donna internjected. ” the newlywed aliens are dead,” she paused and asked, “doesn’t that sort of make you some kind of cupid in reverse?” The Doctor only raised an eyebrow, frowned and sniffed.

Just then, there was a heavy knock upon the front door. Donna visibly jumped. “Who’s that?”  The Doctor sighed with resignation. “That, would be the village constable.” She looked at him. “That’s not good, is it? How’re we going to explain being in here with two dead people with darts sticking out of their hearts?” Scratching his chin, the Doctor nodded, “Erm–yeah. That would be a bit awkward wouldn’t it? I mean, if there were a dart board in the room, we could always pretend to be blind, and say we were asked to play a little game of darts, and whoops officer,  I was wondering why those two had suddenly grown so quiet.” Donna shook her head, “Noo-nice try, but somehow I don’t think even a village constable would buy that.” Sighing, the Doctor agreed, “Yeah, plasmavores are rather rubbish at darts.”

The Doctor and Donna were about to beat a hasty retreat through the kitchen, when they heard the kitchen doorknob rattling. “Hullo, Mrs. Williams, is everything alright?” A deep voice boomed out. “I hope you don’t mind my coming through the kitchen door, but your front door was locked, and I was worried about ya’.”  The constable spied the pair and gave them a wary look “Who’re you?” The Doctor immediately put on his most friendly smile. “Hello! I’m the Doctor and this is Donna. Mrs. Williams invited us to tea. Lovely day, isn’t it?” The constable looked outside. It was overcast and starting to drizzle rain, with the promise of a heavier downpour later. “Aye, if you’re a sheep or a duck, I supose.” He rumbled wryly.

The policeman was a beefy fellow of middle years, his face florid from the bike ride. “I’d not be minding a spot of tea, myself. I’m a bit parched from riding out all the way from the village.” The Doctor looked at the policeman with some skeptiscism. The cottage was less than three miles from the village, hardly a marathon ride for anyone. No doubt the constable’s wife was a good cook, judging by the man’s stomach. “Right, yes, sorry.” The Doctor said hurriedly, “Did I forget to mention? Mrs. Williams and her husband just popped out for a bit of a ramble before teatime. We’d missed them, so we’d decided to just leave them a note and come back later.” He started to usher the constable out the door with. “So, why don’t I just jot down that you were here as well, and we can all come back tomorrow and have tea together, what da’ya say, ey?”

The constable eyed the Doctor suspiciously. “Who did you say you two were?” Donna came forward and put on a posh air, “I’m Dona Noble, of the Chiswick Nobles, I’m sure you’ve heard of us. No? Well, anyway, like the Doctor here was saying, we’ve only come ’round for a spot of tea, on our way to…” She realized just then, that she had no idea where in England she was. “To the Lake District.” The Doctor interjected, smiling. The policeman harrumphed. “I see, Mr. and Mrs. Noble—” “Oh, we’re not married!” The two them said, simultainiously. The policeman raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re brother and sister, then?” Again, the two started to shake their heads, looked at each other, and shrugged. “Yeah, sure, why not? I’m the one with the brains, he’s just there to look pretty and scream a lot.” Donna said, earning herself an indignant but good-natured jab in the ribs from the Doctor.

The constable pulled out his notebook. “Well, I’d like to take some information from you, if you don’t mind, that is. We’ll just have a seat in the other room here, and you can give me your details while we wait for Mr. and Mrs. Williams to return.” Donna and the Doctor both looked panicky, when without further ado, the constable strode into the room where the two bodies were lying. “Coming?” he called out to them. “I’ll start a fire, and then we can all sit here and have a nice chat.” The pair gave each other puzzled looks–mainly because they’d left the bodies of the young aliens lying in front of the fire guard. Curious, they walked into the room–only to see that the two bodies had completely vanished! “Whoops.” The Doctor whispered to Donna, “Must have gotten the polarity wrong, somehow.” He grimmaced. “Bah–I’m telling you, Donna, you hit middle age, and it’s all downhill from there.”

                                                CHAPTER SEVEN

The old caravan ground its way up the mountain road. Behind the wheel, the elderly Mr. Williams called out, “Where to now, Mrs. Plock?” Mrs. Williams giggled, when she heard that. ”Where do you do come up with these names for us, dear? Plock? Sounds like the noise a  fish would make, when it hits the water.”  He flashed her a michevious grin, “But it’s such a nice, innocent sounding name, isn’t it, my sweet?”  Mrs. Williams was reading a map, which was spread out in her lap. She  looked up affectionately at her husband. “What about Loch Ness, dear?  I read where they are holding some sort of monster festival this weekend, we’d fit right in, there.” The elderly pair exchanged looks and burst out laughing. Their laughter was cut short when the caravan topped the tall rise they’d been climbing. For there, halfway down the steep hill, smack in the middle of the tarmac, was an old blue police box.

A few yards in front of the Tardis, the Doctor was stood on the pavement, his face grim. Mr. Williams stopped the caravan. “Uh-oh, misus. Reckon we’re in trouble?” His wife glared at the figure of the Doctor, standing there tall and resolute, the only movement that of the wind, unfurling the tails of his long coat, and ruffling his tousseled hair. In his hand was gripped his sonic screwdriver. The old woman’s eyes narrowed, the map falling from her lap, as she leaned forward, eagerly. “Run him down.” Her husband turned to her, not entirely sure he liked that idea. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’d have to really step on the petrol going down the hill, and I don’t know if the brakes will hold.”

Mrs. Williams gave her husband a scornful look. “Come on, shift. I’ll do it, if you’re afraid.” A couple of minutes later, the old woman was seated behind the steering wheel, staring out the windscreen at the Doctor, who was standing as solidly as a boulder in the road. Mrs. Williams gunned the petrol a few times, then hit the cavavan into gear, barrelling down the hill, headed right for the Doctor. The caravan picked up speed, driving down the middle of the road, getting nearer and nearer to the Time Lord–whom still hadn’t stirred, not even an inch. With a determined look in his eye, The Doctor slowly raised the hand holding the sonic screwdriver, extending his arm, until it was straight out in front of his body…and pointing at the speeding caravan.

Giving an almost inaudible sigh, the Doctor waited until the last possible second. He could see the faces of the two plasmavores through the windscreen. Mrs. Williams’ face seem julibant, while Mr. Williams appeared to be frozen in terror. When there could be no more doubt that the female plasmavore wasn’t going to be deterred from her purpose, the Doctor’s finger pressed down on the sonic.

As the screwdriver’s blue tip lit up and the instrument let out a high pitched buzz, the caravan’s engine suddenly made a funny noise. The wheels locked and Mrs. Williams lost control. In seconds, the caravan drove off the cliff, and into an old quarry far below. Unseen by anyone, the Doctor closed his eyes, as the screams of the two plasmavoores faded into nothing. When it hit the floor, the propane and petrol in the caravan exploded, ending the lives of the alien couple, once and for all.

The Doctor slowly lowered his arm. He was so lost in throught, that he never heard the Tardis door open, and only gradully came to realize that Donna was standing there alongside him, not saying a word, just holding his hand. After a moment, she said gently, “I thought you told them no second chances.” The Doctor merely gave a slight shrug, so, squeezing his hand, she said, “I would have given them another chance. I’m glad you tried. Sometimes, Doctor, that’s all you can do.” He looked at Donna, then smiling his thanks, said simply,”Come on, then.”

Donna gave him a surprised look. “Where are we going?” Pocketing the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor walked back to the Tardis. “I hear there’s going to be a monster festival at Loch Ness, thought we’d check it out, though I don’t think they’ll catch a glimpse of the Skarasen, this time of year.” Donna looked at him for a moment, wondering if he was kidding, decided she didn’t care. “What a minute, hang on. ‘Skarasen?” You mean there’s a real, Loch Ness Monster?” He turned to her, surprised, “What? didn’t I tell you about that?”

(1comepleted 7th November, 2008–following a writing hiatus from late June to early Nov.)