“What? Okay, okay, okay—let’s get to a hospital. New Earth Hospital’s good, right? Yes, they’re good. Okay, let’s go.”
She looked at him for a moment as if deciding weather he was telling the truth or not. She had done so much running from people who wanted to take the baby that she hardly left the TARDIS any more in fear of getting caught. After another moment or two, she finally nodded, agreeing to go to the hospital. She leaned on his shoulder. “Fine.”
He smoothed down the back of her hair and sighed with relief. “Thank you. And trust me, River, you and this baby will be perfectly okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
He began dancing around the TARDIS console, trying to grip the controls through sweaty palms. His wife was about to give birth, after all! “We’ll be there in a jiffy.”
"Oh, shut up."
She giggled, wrapping her arms around his waist for a cuddle. “Gatsby’s mansion has nothing on the TARDIS,” she repeated. “You could be Gatsby. I’ll be Nick. Seeing as he actually cares about Gatsby.”
"I’m Gatsby? I’m the disillusioned, stubborn idiot? I never actually liked Gatsby. Or anyone in the novel. The only one who really had a brain was Jordan."
He straightened up at the sight of the blood, biting back a thousand questions. Whoseisthatandhowdiditgetonyourhandsandareyouhurtandshouldwestartrunning?
"What is that?" he asked, his eyes flicking to her face. She seemed unharmed, but you never know. "Annamarie, what happened?"
"…Doctor? Exactly what’s in that container?"
Her hands had moved only to carefully lift the side of her shirt, showing the wound, though she was more curious about what he held.
"It’s something that will help you," he promised, moving her shirt away. He opened the container of Flesh and dipped two fingers into it. When he had a healthy coating, he spread it on her wound, probing carefully so he healed every centimeter.
"Sorry if this hurts."
"Who? What man? Where is he? Or are you talking about me?"
"Just you, Amy and Rory here and there, running about, saving the universe…Once it was just Amy, but it was one of the times in the middle i saw you, must be you coming and going out of order. Not too often but often enough to raise an eyebrow at."
"Well, depending on how long you’ve been stuck here, that could mean anything. If it’s a really close time frame, then something could be going on that the three of us had to stop."
"Are they? All right, I think we should get out of here, don’t you?"
“Of course I am. But we must go quickly, before they reach us.”
"Right, let’s. And how many are there, exactly."
Callisto sat quietly in the library, her fingers turning through the pages as she decided on which books she was going to bring home. She neatly slid it back in it’s slot between more books, it fitting perfectly. This went on for a while, same routine; finding a book that caught her eye, skimming through it, deciding if it was worth her time, and then either putting it back or under her arm. So far she had gotten two; The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penny and The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke.
She picked another book from the bookshelf, Cry to Heaven by Anne Rice. She put it under her arm with the other two, content with her three choices of books for today. Her eyebrow raised a bit when she heard shuffling on the other side of the bookshelf. It probably doesn’t sound odd since she was in a library, but this bookshelf was up against a wall, so, what could be making that noise? She placed her books in a pile near her feet and started to take the books out one by one, making neat piles beside her. Fifteen books later a patch of emptiness was in the bookshelf, nothing special about it. Giving a disappointed sigh, the Scot began to put the books back in their place. She was hoping for some sort of adventure.
When she was about ready to leave her spot, she noticed something that had to be more than a coincidence. A book titled The Library of Secrets by.. no one.. it didn’t state an author. She was looking at the pages to find them empty, not a single word except for the first page which read.
The Library of Secrets
What you will learn will never be forgotten, nor shall it forget you.
Then it proceeded with over three-hundred empty, wordless pages. Her brows grew closer together as the curiosity from before came back even stronger. She looked up from the book when she heard some shuffling again, this time to find it really was someone, a man to be exact. A man with a tweed jacket, bow tie, and honestly, quite a large chin. “”Ello,” she whispered a greeting, her Scottish accent bleeding through stongly, before turning her focused back on the book
The Doctor had gone into the library because…well, because his TARDIS landed here. He’d just popped out to see where his Old Girl had dropped him off.
He didn’t particularly enjoy libraries. Yes, they were lovely, but why go for stories when you could live the real thing? But he understood the fascination with books. Not everyone had a TARDIS like he did—or imagination.
He walked around the corner and found a bright-eyed woman standing in the corner near a pile of books. Now, she belonged in a library. He could see how her soul shined near the books. She practically glowed.
"Oh! Am I in Scotland? I like Scotland. I knew a few people from here. Angry country though. Or perhaps just angry people."
He walked over to the stacks of books littered around her. “Perhaps I should fetch you a basket for all those.”
"An expedition? Where to?"
River smiled softly at him, cupping his cheek with her hand. “I know, love. I’m sorry. I never thought that it bothered you like that.” she took both of his hands in hers. “I love you, sweetie.”
She gave him another small kiss, but part of her felt something was off. Like he was hiding in something. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
His fingers twitched up to her wrists, hanging off them lightly as she indulged him with another kiss. He loved her kisses.
He worked harder to disguise how morose he felt. “Just—spoilers,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll find out soon enough. When is this trip, anyway?”
" Yeah. You and me both." Rose replied, shaking her head. As if she already did not have enough on her plate.
" Although, it is not in the way of the Ferengi to to this. Although their kind may be racist and sexist. All they care about is profit." she laughed, a Ferengi had once told her though that War was good for business. It was one of their acquisitions.
So the possibility of it being the Ferengi was low, but that did not mean they were not involved. They could know who or what had the type of technology on board that they were searching for. She though of this while John was answering his communicator, so when he told her that they had found another body, she looked at him in shock.
" Of course they did. Where?"
He snapped his communicator shut. “The engine room,” he said. “Jessica Morrisey. They got her, too. Come on.”
He tapped Rose on the forearm so she would follow him and then strode out of the room, down the corridor, and to the lift. The doors slid open, John said, “Engine Room!” and they were off, descending quickly to the engines.
He picked at his fingernails for a silent moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Wasn’t this quick?” he asked. “Quick for the killer to strike again. It’s not very smart, is it?”
"No. No, no, no. Absolutely not."
Clara was afraid. Actually, properly afraid. Someone wanted her dead. Someone had gone as far as to ask the Doctor to kill her. Someone actually thought that she was dangerous— evil, even. The worst part was, the Doctor didn’t know what to do.
"I— It’s alright. We can think of something, right? Just… just need to convince them that I’m good," She had no doubt that he knew how fearful she was, but she tried her best to hide it anyway, "Worst comes to worst I just have to stay here until this all blows over."
He swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yes, we can fix this. We’ll fix this.” She had to be afraid- of him, of the world, of the nameless terror that did this- and he feared all those things, too.
"Clara, do you feel safe?" he asked desperately. "With me, I mean. Do you feel safe in the TARDIS? If not, I can get you better protection, a safe house, anything you need."
"Hello again, River Song. Perhaps I should create a nickname for you. I did enjoy calling you Mrs. Robinson.”
"I hate you." River muttered, rolling her eyes. "Don’t you even think about it."
"All right," he conceded. "I’ve had many terrible nicknames myself. I won’t put you through it unless I have to. I feel like I need to, since you call me ‘Sweetie’ all the time."
"An expedition? Where to?"
"What’s the matter with you?" she asked curiously with a laugh. "Since when are you ever against danger? You go looking for it everyday. Besides, if I do run into trouble, I’ll just send you a message on the psychic paper, yeah. Everyone wins that way. I get my fill of danger and you can be there to save the day as usual." she leaned over and kissed him softly. "Sound good to you? Or is there another reason you’re acting so strange about this?"
He tried to let the kiss brush away any worries, but it didn’t work. It never did. Not when he worried about River Song.
"I suppose," he conceded. Perhaps if he injected a bead of truth into his lie, he could cover it up.
"Sometimes I just forget that you have a whole other life, one that doesn’t really have room for me. Yeah, I pick you up in the TARDIS and we have a good romp, but then I bring you back and you have responsibilities. I just don’t like sharing you, that’s all."
Doctor Who Fest: day 1
↳ Who is your favorite companion?: Clara Oswald
GUYS GUYS GUYS
GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY WAS LITERALLY WRITTEN BY A FEMALE ROCKET SCIENTIST
SHE’S THE FIRST WOMAN TO EVER WRITE A MARVEL MOVIE
WHY IS THIS NOT GETTING TALKED ABOUT
I did not realize this. This is good.
"No. No, no, no. Absolutely not."
Clara’s eyes widened in horror, and dozens of questions rushed through her mind, but she couldn’t get even a single one out. All she could do was stand there mutely and stare up at him.
Finally after a few moments of silence, she managed to look up at him again, “…But… you won’t, right?” Of course she trusted him, but she just needed to make sure. She had to hear him say it himself.
He shook his head. “Of course not. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.” He grimaced, hiding his eyes yet again. “That came out wrong.”
He rubbed his hands together and bit the inside of his lip. “I don’t know why I’ve been ordered to. This—organization, I suppose, believes for some reason that you’ll commit some great act of evil. Not now, not soon, but someday. I tried to sway them, make them see reason, but they won’t budge. I don’t know what to do, Clara.”
"Really? You mean you’re—you’re—blimey.”
River smiled at him for a moment. “Okay.” she muttered rubbing his back softly. “I think I can do that.” She held him close, sighing softly. “We’ll have to get a flat. I’m still in Storm Cage, so besides the TARDIS, I’ve got nowhere.” she pulled away at last, smiling at him.
"I don’t mind you rearranging furniture constantly. It might be funny." she smiled before the worry appeared on her face again. "But…what if something goes wrong?"
He smiled almost…bashfully. "Did you ever think of me in a flat?" he said. "Absolute nightmare, I’d think. I almost got stuck on an asteroid orbiting a black hole and I thought my life had ended. Or was it a meteoroid?"
His hands rose to her face. “Who would have thought we’d end up here,” he said. “Both of us, we’re so extraordinary, but we’re going to have an ordinary sort of life that’s extraordinary on its own. I can’t wait.”