Adventures in La-La Land

One Of My Bizarre Questions

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 02:30:14 GMT

What would you call a guy who puts the moves on a woman for devious purposes, like taking all her money?

Dear Russell T. Davies and David Tennant...

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 03:21:21 GMT

Right now, I hate the both of you.I think I hate you, RTD, the most because of all the unmitigated HELL you keep dragging poor the poor Doctor into. Can't you give the poor guy a break for once in his life and not write him something that pushes him even deeper into his guilt and loneliness? HUH? CAN'T YOU? GIVE THE GUY A FRICKIN' BREAK FOR A CHANGE!?!?! For somebody who is an atheist, you sure do like to play the callous and wrathful god thing with your stories. Need I mention COE? Sheesh!
And YOU, David Tennant......why do you have to do such a good job at what you do? I really should NOT be feeling this emotionally upset at a silly TV character but I do and IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!!!! Can't you just, like, tone down your acting ablility just a few notches ONCE IN A FREAKIN' WHILE?
Of course, if either of you guys actually did what I'm telling you to do, I wouldn't be watching and enjoying Doctor Who so much. There is nothing I watch on American TV right now that I enjoy like I enjoy watching Doctor Who. Actually I don't think there has been anything on TV over here that I've liked watching that much since I used to sit glued to the re-runs of Star Trek and static-filled episodes of the original Doctor Who on PBS as a kid. So, really, I guess I can't complain too much.
Watch it over here in America. Hollywood doesn't appreciate guys like you. They'll try to turn you guys into something cheap, shallow and unimaginative if you don't watch out.

The Miserable Huss

PS: You guys have got me so wound up that I'm gonna have to take a double dose of what I usually take to help me sleep so I can actually get some rest and be functional tomorrow. THANKS A HEAP, GUYS!

PPS: I really don't hate you two. At least, I won't by the morning.

Woof! Woof!

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 01:42:39 GMT

Sick as a dog. It's not swine flu or any kind of flu for that matter supposedly. I had the test done where they stick two giant q-tips up your nose and check the goo that comes back out and it was negative. But if it's not swine flu, it must be a close relative. My eyes are watering. My nose is running. My head is stuffed up. I'm hacking up my lungs, am achey and with a low fever. (98.6 may be normal for some but not for me. Normal is about 97.5)

I'm staying at home and not working. I don't want to give this to any of the little ones I work with, so many of them are medically fragile that the littlest cold turns into a hospital trip.

BTW, speaking of dogs. This is Pippin.

I may have put this up before. I don't remember. But I don't care. He is such a good dog. Someday I will get a good picture of our other dog, Frodo, and put it up so as not to slight the poor thing.

The Slow Path Home - Chapter 15/?

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 01:20:05 GMT

(Sorry for the wait.)

Title: The Slow Path Home

Author: callme_al01

Fandom: Doctor Who New Series, Written for Tardis BigBang Round 2

Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and not to me. Rats!

Genre/Characters: H/C; Tenth Doctor, OC, Rose, Donna and maybe some others later on.

Rating: PG

Beta: aibhinn , Also many thanks to chocclarefor her invaluable help with British things.

Spoilers: Brief mention of 2009 Easter Special in the first chapter

Warnings: The first chapter is a bit bloody and has some graphic violence. Nothing after the first chapter will be like that.

Summary: "It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone." Rose Kennedy

Chapter 15

A cold, wet nose in his ear and a blast of doggie breath in his face finally forced the Doctor from sleep.

“All right, Pippin! I'm getting up!” he grumbled, as he turned from his side to lie on his back on the couch. Pippin refused to accept the change in position as evidence of getting up, so the dog continued his gentle pestering until the Doctor finally sat up. “Satisfied now?” he asked Pippin, who wagged his tail in approval.

The Doctor rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. It was 9:30 in the morning; Pippin usually left him alone until 10:00. Not bothering with his crutches, the Doctor stood up, hopped the few steps over to the the window and sat. Pippin jumped up to join him. It was their routine now.

Since that day almost two weeks ago when Emily had relented and allowed him to stay, the Doctor had been going through the motions of living. Eat. Drink. Sleep. A lot of sleeping. He'd gone from sleeping less than humans did, to sleeping more than humans did. He was eating less than a human now as well. The Doctor's prodigious appetite had disappeared. He was seldom hungry, and even when he was, nothing tasted very good. Applesauce was no longer a treat, and even his beloved bananas tasted like sawdust in his mouth.

Every day was the same now. At the sound of Emily's alarm clock going off at five o'clock, he'd get up and head to the en suite for a shower (His leg was sufficiently healed that he could take a complete shower now. That was one good thing at least.) then put on a fresh set of jogging bottoms and t-shirt. Didn't bother to shave; what was the point? He'd wait, usually on the bed, flipping idly through a book until Emily had a chance to bring him up some hot tea and some breakfast. The Doctor seldom ate the breakfast, no matter how much Emily scolded him about it. He'd drink his tea, take a few half-hearted bites of food, and listen as Emily woke the children up and got them ready to head out the door promptly at eight o'clock. Jonathan, Sophie and Aiden would always come by to say good morning to him before they left. Then, once the house was silent and empty, the Doctor would curl up on the couch and go back to sleep until Pippin came to him.

They'd spend the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon together on the window seat, the Doctor watching aimlessly out of the window with Pippin's shaggy head resting in his lap. He always kept at least one hand on the dog, rubbing his back, playing with his ears or just resting it on his side. Pippin's quiet presence made him feel a little better and helped him get through the long, lonely day. At noon, the Doctor would fetch the lunch that Emily left for him on the dresser every morning. Nothing fancy; just a sandwich or two and a couple of bananas. He would eat the bananas while he fed Pippin the sandwiches.

Sometimes, the Doctor would talk to Pippin. Long, one-sided conversations half-whispered in his own language about the fears and regrets that occupied his mind constantly. Pippin would listen carefully to his friend, watching him with his dark, kind eyes, but could offer no answers.

The only time the Doctor's spirits really lifted was when the children came home from school. Like clockwork, the back door would fly open at 3:30 and the house would come back to life once again. While their mother parked the van in the garage, Jonathan, Sophie and Aiden would run up the back stairs to change out of their school clothing. It was a race then to see who could change the fastest and make it to the Doctor's room first. Usually, it was Jonathan who made it in before the other two. The boy would stop by quickly to say hello before heading out to do his paper route. Aiden and Sophie would burst in soon afterward; eager to tell their friend about the events of their day.

“Ty threw up today! Right on Patricia Buchanan! And that made her throw up, too! Everybody else started gagging like they were gonna barf. Mrs. Bundy had to chase us all out of the room before we made a bigger mess to clean up. We had to have Kindergarten in the church for the rest of the day 'cuz our room smelled too bad!”

“We made snowflakes in Miss Pat's room today! I made some for you hang in your window.”

“In Science we made books on weather! Do you want to see mine?”

The Doctor listened to their tales until Emily came up with after-school snacks for all three of them. Oddly enough, he usually found he had an appetite for the treats that were brought up then.
Once the snacks were done, the two youngsters would disappear to their rooms only to quickly reappear with toys and books in tow. They'd play happily in his room while the Doctor watched or played along with them in their games. He enjoyed their company and was more than willing to do anything that they asked. At some point, Emily would come in and have them come down to do a few little household chores before dinner, which the whole family had fallen into the habit of eating upstairs in his room with him. After dinner, Jonathan would usually come back up once he finished his homework and the two of them would talk for a bit while Sophie and Aiden ran in and out of his room, playing until their bedtime. Emily pretty much stayed away, saying that she had paperwork or housework she had to get done that evening. The Doctor was grateful for that; he always felt on tender-hooks around Emily since his reprieve.

Night was the worst, after the children had gone to bed. Emily would stay up quite late but only stuck her head in once or twice to see if he needed anything and to finally stay good-night. Pippin never came up during the night. The quiet in the house was deafening and with nothing to distract him, his mind would begin churning over his situation and all the mistakes he had made that brought him to it. When he could stand it no longer, he'd crawl underneath the covers and fall into oblivion.

**

It was almost ten o'clock in the evening and Emily was seated on the couch in the family room listening to music as she sorted and folded clothing into the array of baskets at her feet. The kids were in bed and, as usual, she had been taking advantage of some child-free time to get some of the household chores caught up. Emily hurried to finish folding the last few pieces. She had made a promise to herself that she was going to go up to bed early tonight and relax with a cup of hot cocoa and her laptop for a bit before going to sleep.

As she folded the last bath towel and added it to the right basket, her eyes fell on the small pile of clothing that she had added to Jonathan's basket and sighed. The clothes belonged to the Doctor.

Emily was worried about the Doctor. He was hardly eating. She practically had to stand over him and spoon the food into his mouth. She had thought he had at least been eating the lunches she left for him each day, until Pippin started to turn his nose up at his evening dinner of kibble and she noticed the collection of dog hair and crumbs on the window seat in the Doctor's room. And she had no idea what he was doing during the day while the rest of them were out and about. Probably sleeping.

He's depressed, Emily thought to herself. Heck, who wouldn't be in his situation? He'd been abandoned here; marooned with nothing but the clothes on his back. That fact had struck home with her earlier. She had washed the Doctor's things along with some of Jonathan's laundry, and when she had finished folding them, the little pile of clothing she had set in the basket seemed so pitiful: the hand-me-down sweatpants and t-shirt that had belonged to Tom, a pair of socks, and a pair of underwear. Emily had offered to go out and buy him some decent clothing, but the Doctor had refused.

“I don't need anything right now. Not like I'm going to be going out in this weather at any rate. I'll worry about getting other clothes later, closer to spring,” he told her, and stubbornly stuck with his wardrobe of old sweatpants and t-shirts that Emily had dug out for him. He hadn't even let her go out and buy him some new underwear; just counted on the fact that Emily had to do laundry nearly everyday. Which was probably just as well. Emily had never seen a pair of underwear quite like his before, and she doubted that she could find another pair like it in DuBois, or on this planet, for that matter.

The thing that troubled her most concerning the Doctor wasn't his lack of appetite or his excessive sleeping, however. The thing that troubled her most was that he refused to leave his bedroom.

He didn't come flat out and say, “I refuse to leave the bedroom.” No, it wasn't like that at all. He just stayed there. All the time. When Emily asked him if he would like to come down for breakfast in the morning, he'd very politely decline. “No thank you. I don't think my leg is up to handling the stairs yet.” If Sophie and Aiden wanted him to come downstairs and watch a movie with them, he'd politely beg off as being too tired. It was always the same: a polite but plausible reason not to come out of his room. It was almost as if he were trying to isolate himself from the rest of the family, except for the fact that he obviously welcomed the company of the children. Maybe, Emily thought guiltily, Maybe he's trying to isolate himself from me.

The relationship between the Doctor and her had never been a very smooth one. From the start, they had butted heads over everything big(her pistol) or small(his pill) and some days she had wondered if he had been sent from some special corner of the universe just to drive her insane. But despite the friction between them, Emily didn't dislike the Doctor. Actually, she mostly liked him, especially on those rare occasions when the two of them got along for more than a few minutes at a time. Now though, their verbal sparring matches had gone the way of his appetite.

Emily had come home from picking up the kids from school that day she had ordered the Doctor out, and had gone directly upstairs to talk to him. She'd apologized for treating him so harshly and reiterated that he was welcome to stay with them for as long as he needed or wanted. But there was one condition.

“My kids stay safe,” she'd told him in no uncertain terms. “If anything ever happens that puts them in jeopardy, you're outta here. My family comes first. Got it?” The Doctor had nodded solemnly in agreement.

Since that time, the Doctor seemed to keep himself at arm's length when it came to interacting with Emily. He treated her with a careful politeness that grated horribly on her nerves and made her wish for the old days of his blunt rudeness. On several occasions, Emily had purposely tried to get his goat enough to draw him into an argument, or at least provoke him into a sarcastic remark, but every time she failed.

So maybe he's afraid if he does something that pisses me off, I'll throw him out again. Staying up there may be his way of keeping out of my way, Emily reasoned.

Emily stood up, hefting one of the clothes baskets with her. It was the one with the Doctor's clothes in it. She carried it up the stairs and set it down in the hallway by Jonathan's door. She stared thoughtfully at the basket for a few seconds before going back downstairs to fix her cocoa and gather up her laptop.

**

The Doctor lay sprawled on his back in the bed with his hands behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling, playing the recreational mathematics version of solitaire in his head to pass the time and to keep his mind from dwelling on other, more troubling things

Down below, he heard Emily moving about. She always seemed to stay up late and get up early, rather unlike most humans he'd known. Sometimes he wondered what she did that kept her so busy down there. Sighing, the Doctor turned his brain back to solving equations. Shortly thereafter, there was a knock on his door. He hastily grabbed a book and set it on his chest. Emily came in carrying two mugs along with a bundle of clothes tucked underneath one arm.

“Hey, I made myself some cocoa and I thought you might like some too,” she told him as she leaned over one end of the couch and dropped his clothing out from under her arm. “Here ya go, Johnny boy!” With a smile, she held the mug out to him.

The Doctor sat up but hesitated before taking the mug. He loathed being called Johnny, and he suspected that Emily knew that and did it on purpose to annoy him. Grin and bear it, he told himself. Well, he couldn't manage a grin but he could manage to bear it. “Thank you,” he said politely. “And it's John, not Johnny.” During one of those days when he sat with Pippin watching out the window, brooding, he had decided that there was no point in him going by the title of the Doctor anymore. The Doctor was the name for a Time Lord with a TARDIS, and that certainly wasn't him any longer. So he had asked Emily and the children to start calling him John. Jonathan, Aiden and Sophie had nodded their heads in agreement with him, and had kept right on calling him the Doctor. That was the name they had come to know and love him by, and nothing was going to change that. Emily had made a few attempts at remembering to call him John, but quickly returned to addressing him as the Doctor, with an occasional Johnny thrown in just to irritate him.

“Sorry,” Emily apologized.“But you know, you just don't seem like a John to me.”

“What do I seem like?” the Doctor asked curiously before he could stop himself. For a few brief seconds, he had the wild hope that she would say Alonzo.

Emily scrunched up her face and squinted hard at the Doctor. “Hmmm....I don't know......a Poindexter maybe?”

“POINDEXTER!” he exclaimed in dismay. “ I most certainly do not look like a....a…POINDEXTER!”

Emily laughed at his reaction. “Yeah you do! When you wear those geek glasses of yours you do!”

“Geek glasses, indeed!” the Doctor took a sip of his cocoa and tired his best not to look offended.

Still laughing, Emily sat down on the couch with her cocoa. “So how are you doing? I'm sorry I don't get up here much in the evenings. I just get busy with stuff, ya know?”

The Doctor nodded. “I understand. I'm fine.”

There was an awkward silence as they sipped their cocoa. Emily finally broke it.

“You sure do like to keep it cold in here.”

“What?” the Doctor looked up. “Oh, the window.” He always kept one of the windows open a just a crack. “I'm sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I'll keep it shut from now on.”

Emily shook her head. “I wasn't complaining. I often keep my window open a little bit at night. I sleep better with the fresh air.”

“Oh.” He wished she'd go away.

“Tom n' me, we always had a battle over temperatures. I was always too hot; he was always too cold. We'd sneak around behind each other, turning the thermostat up and down, opening and shutting windows. We'd tease each other about it....” Emily trailed off, then shook her head and smiled.

“Seriously, though, how are you doing? How is that leg?”

“Well enough,” the Doctor answered cautiously. Was she trying to see if he was fit enough to send on his way?

“How well is well enough?” Emily asked.

In answer, the Doctor pulled up the leg of his jogging bottom to reveal the two, big, ugly red scars that crisscrossed his leg. “The muscles and skin have healed well,” he told her. “But I still can't put weight on it yet. I think it's the bone where the chunk was cut out. It's still healing.”

Emily got up to take a closer look. “Do you mind?”

The Doctor nodded reluctantly. He didn't like the idea of her poking about on his leg. He tensed up as she bent over to look.

Emily glanced up. “I'm not going to hurt you, silly! Sheesh!” She was surprisingly gentle as she ran her fingers over the scars on his leg and the Doctor began to relax. As she felt the skin over the spot where bone had been cut out, she said, “Yeah, it hasn't grown back yet. I can feel a definite dip there under the skin.” She straightened up. “Is that normal? I mean for your people? Does it take a while for bones to heal up? Everything else healed up so fast.”

“Some things take longer, yes,” he replied as he pulled the jogging bottom back down over his leg. He didn't want to tell her that he didn't know why it was taking so long to heal, that he was afraid that it would never heal properly at all.

Emily reached for his crutches and pulled them over. “Here. Stand up and try to put a little weight on it for me.”

“Honestly, I can't. I'm not lying.”

“I don't think you're lying,” Emily told him. “I just want you to try.” She looked up at him. “Please? Just try a little?”

She thought he was lying; lying so that he could stay here longer when she wanted him gone, the Doctor thought. He'd prove her wrong. He reached out and grabbed the crutches from her and stood up.

Emily watched as he carefully shifted his weight and gingerly touched his left foot to the ground. Bolts of pain shot up his leg as he started to put his weight on it. He pulled his foot back up. “Satisfied?” he snapped.

“Come on, try it again,” Emily ordered. “You can do more than that.”

The Doctor debated on whether to do as she requested or to refuse. Keeping in mind his tenuous position in the house, he decided to comply. He gritted his teeth and tried again.

“Come on, come on, come on!” Emily urged him as his leg straightened out more to bear the weight. The Doctor kept it down for as long as he could before sitting back down on the bed.

“Yay! That must have been close to ten seconds!” Emily beamed at him. “Good job!”

“Thanks,” the Doctor smiled back. “That's better than I thought.” He felt quite pleased with himself.

“You know,” Emily told him, “weight bearing is pretty important in bone growth. I've read that in a bunch of places. You should try to practice that some every day. I think it would help your leg a lot.”

The Doctor nodded. “You're right. I will.”

“I've got a friend who is a physical therapist. If you want, I could ask him to come by and take a look at your leg. He could give you some exercises to do to help it.”

The Doctor thought it over for a few seconds It might be a good thing but.... “No,” he told Emily. “The fewer people who know about me, the better.”

“If it's a question of money, I don't think my friend would charge anything, and anyway, if he did, I'd pay for it. So don't worry.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Thank you, Emily, but no.”

Emily looked at the Doctor in exasperation. “Typical man! Stubborn!”

The Doctor looked down at the floor. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He hoped she wouldn't push the issue any further.

“Will you at least start putting some weight on it every day on your own?”

“Yeah, I will.” The Doctor looked up at her. “I promise.”

Emily gave him a light punch on the arm. “You better, buddy!”

They finished their cocoa, sitting on the bed. Just as Emily finished draining the last drop from her mug, she gave a huge yawn.

“I'm beat. I need to go to bed,” she said as she stood up. “I promised myself I'd treat myself to a cup of cocoa and go to bed early for a change.” She glanced over at the clock. “And if I hurry, I can actually BE in bed at eleven for a change instead of just starting to go to bed eleven!”

The Doctor felt both relieved and disappointed as she headed toward the door. The sooner she left, the less chance he had to do or say something wrong. But the cocoa had been good, and having company for a bit had been nice, even if the company was Emily.

“Hey,” Emily turned back towards him. “How about Jonathan and I help you downstairs tomorrow morning? You'd have more to do, more room to move around and exercise the leg.”

“No, I'm fine up here. No need to bother.” The Doctor felt his hearts begin to beat faster.

“It's not a bother. Don't you get bored up here all day? I mean, what do you do up here all day?”

“I read, of course! That's why I have you bring me books.” The Doctor waved the volume he'd hurriedly grabbed just before Emily came in.

“You mean that book that you were holding upside down when I came in?”

The Doctor opened and shut his mouth like fish, as he groped for an answer. “I..I...I was doing that on purpose! Yes! I'm very clever, you know. And...and English is so easy for me that I read it upside down, just to give myself a bit of a challenge!” The look on Emily's face told him that she didn't believe him. “It's true!” he insisted.

“Well, if you're so clever, then come on downstairs tomorrow and you can have a ton of books to read upside down and sideways to your hearts' content.”

“I'd really rather not. Really, really rather not.” the Doctor pleaded.

Emily put her hands on her hips, a position that the Doctor knew meant that she was prepared to argue with him until he gave in. But then, she dropped her hands down to her sides and shrugged. “Suit yourself. I'm going to bed. Night, Johnny!” With that, she left.

**

Last night, Emily had decided that there was no use in getting into an argument with the Doctor about leaving his room, but that didn't mean that she was going to drop the issue. Instead of going to sleep early as she had intended, she lay awake in her room thinking about the Doctor, trying to fathom the reason why he was keeping himself so isolated and what she could do to draw him out. Finally, she hit upon an idea just before she fell asleep.

Before she left with the kids in the morning, she tromped into his room, carrying her laptop.

“Here,” she said, setting the computer in his lap. “Maybe this'll give you something to do other than sleep and mope!”

“What?” The Doctor looked up at her in confusion.

“There's some games and stuff on there that you can mess with until I get home today with a wireless router to set up.”

“What?”

“I. AM. GOING. TO. BUY. A. WIRELESS. ROUTER. TODAY! Did I say that slowly and loudly enough for you or is your brain still asleep?”

The Doctor looked down at the battered laptop in his hands. “What?” Emily rolled her eyes and took in a big breath to repeat her statement. “I heard you! I just don't understand. Why do I need this?”

“To use? To mess around with? Surf the net? You do know what that is, right?”

“Yes, but I...” Emily cut him off.

“I don't have an ethernet cable run to this room so you can't get the Internet yet. I don't want to drill any more holes in my walls and ceilings, so I'm going to buy a wireless setup while I'm out today. It won't take long to get it up and going this evening.”

“No,” the Doctor said.

Hands on her hips, Emily challenged, “Why not?”

“Because it's yours! You use it for work, don't you? I've heard you talk about taking it with you.”

“I take it with me but I don't use it for work. Not really. I just use it to check my email and read stuff on the Internet when I stop for gas and lunch at Sheetz.”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, take it with you. I don't need it. I'm fine.”

“No.”

“Take it!” He held it out to Emily.

“No,”

“Yes!” The Doctor glared at Emily in a way she hadn't seen since New Year's Eve, and she was thrilled.

“Gotta go! See ya!” she said gleefully.

“Emily! Take this with you! I DON'T WANT IT!” Grinning, Emily stuck her fingers in her ears and hurried out the door.

**

“Stupid, stubborn human!” the Doctor said angrily to himself as he sat the laptop on the couch. He didn't need it, didn't want it. He thought he knew why Emily had brought that thing up here. She wanted to draw him out from the safety of this room.

Because that was the reason why he was staying in here: safety.

The Doctor hadn't understood, at first, why he insisted on staying in the bedroom. The first time it happened had been after the disappearance of the TARDIS had been revealed. Sophie and Aiden had come in to see him and had grabbed him by the hand, tugging him towards the door. “Come down to my room to play today!” Aiden had told him.

“Yeah!” Sophie had echoed. “We can play in my room later too!”

So he had willingly gathered up his crutches and started after them. But the moment he crossed the threshold, he felt his hearts begin to race. All his many senses went on high alert. He took another step and stopped. His hearts felt as if they were going to gallop out of his chest, his throat felt tight and the palms of his hands felt clammy and sweaty where they were clamped around his crutches.

“C'mon, Doctor!” the children called to him from further down the hallway.

He couldn't make himself take another step forward.

The Doctor swallowed hard a couple of times before he could speak, “No, bring your things in here like usual, kids. I don't think I can make it all the way down there on this leg.” The two children shrugged and ran to get their things while the Doctor turned back to his room. As he stepped back into his bedroom, the strange feelings passed, leaving him confused and concerned.

After that, every time he tried to make himself leave the room, the same thing happened. Even walking towards the door with intentions of leaving triggered the same reactions. He pondered it one day, sitting at the window with Pippin after another failed attempt to cross through the doorway. When he finally hit upon the reason, he laughed out loud. The reason was so simple that it had been looking at him right in the face and he didn't realize it. It was so simple, it was brilliant. Of course, since he thought of it, even subconsciously, it had to be brilliant but that was beside the point.

As long as he stayed in this bedroom, they were safe.

He was a dangerous person. Bad things happened when he was around, regardless of whether he intended for them to happen or not. As Joan had pointed out so clearly to him, he had chosen the school and village of Farringham on a whim, and because of his whim, innocent people had been hurt and killed. He hadn't chosen the Klapetzkys or the town of DuBois on a whim, the TARDIS had done that, but the danger was still the same. All the enemies he had made over his long life: Daleks, Sontarans, Sycorax, Krillitanes....all of whom would be thrilled to find him so they could kill him or imprison him. And they wouldn't care about any “collateral damage” they inflicted in the process. Staying in here kept him safe as well, kept him separate from the Klapetztkys so that they wouldn't grow too fond of him and he wouldn't grow to...to like them too much.

So he would stay in here for now. Keeping himself isolated, like some kind of virus, until spring came and he could find a better place to hide away.

The Doctor picked up the laptop and set in on the floor before laying down on the couch and shutting his eyes. No, the laptop would be too much of a danger. No telling what kind of hornet nest he might stir up browsing through the internet with his rampant curiosity. He'd refused Emily's offer of a telly for the same reason. The less he knew about what was going on in the world beyond these walls, the better. The Doctor sighed and tried to relax into sleep.

But he was so bloody bored!

Boredom was one reason why he was sleeping, he knew. With nothing to do to occupy his hands or his mind, he kept dwelling on his past mistakes and on his lonely future. Sleep let him escape.

He turned on his side, facing into the couch. Forget about the computer. he told himself. It's just some stupid, twenty-first century piece of junk anyway. It's not worth the risk. He reached for one of the pillows and put it over his head, as if to better shield himself from the temptation lying on the floor beside him.

Five minutes later, the Doctor sat up, glared at the laptop on the floor and shifted so that he could lay down with his head on the opposite side of the couch. He pulled the pillow over the back of his head once more, lacing his fingers over the pillow as if to keep it from running away. The fingers stayed laced only for a minute or two before they started fidgeting. The fidgeting got worse and worse. Finally, the Doctor flipped over and slung the pillow away before sitting up. He reached over and picked up the laptop, intending on sitting it in the hallway outside his door, but once his hands were on it......

“Not like it's connected to the internet,” he said. “I could see if it has any good games or such on it. Mess about with it a bit. Give it back to Emily when she gets home tonight.” The Doctor cautiously lifted the lid of the laptop.

Resistance Is Futile #2

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 00:51:54 GMT

Questions from xebgoc

I see that you've only had your LJ for a little over a year. What brought you here ?

I saw that my teenage pallies burningstarsxe, goddessreason, suangelita , and shadowempresshad one so that got me interested.

2. I love The Slow Path Home (even if I'm awful about commenting) - where did the idea come from ? Have you written much other fiction ?Glad you like it!
I hadn't even started watching Doctor again until almost 2 years ago so my family and I gathered around the computer to watch all of seasons 1,2, and 3, one show a night pretty much, so we'd be caught up for when season 4 started. I just felt so bad for the Doctor at the end of Doomsday that I started making up a story in my head about what happened after that. It's changed some since Journey's End and I had better hurry up and finish it before the Christmas Special this year!
The only other stuff I've written is one story for the OT3 Ficathon and that short little Halloween story I wrote as I was killing time between visits.

3. Have you ever been involved in any other fandoms ? Nope.

4. One of your interests listed on your 'user info' page is antiques - what sort and where do you go to find them ? do you actually restore them ?
About 5 years ago, my parents downsized from their home of thirty years and put 99% of their stuff in storage until they got settled in a new place. My Dad passed away shortly after they moved and a year later, a big moving van full of their "stuff" from the storage space pulled up in front of our house and vomited it all out on our house. My Dad was a horrible pack rat and kept all the stuff he got from 2 of his brothers who died and his mother. It's kind of an eclectic mix. Alot of it was filthy and moldy from spending years and years out in their garage. We try to actually use the stuff as much as we can so we cleaned up a lot of it. We don't really restore stuff ourselves but my husband did just finish fixing up my grandmother's curio cabinet so that we could use it in the house. A lot of the stuff my Dad kept was pure junk but he was very attached to it. I wish I had appreciated it more when he was alive and could tell me about the things.

5. If you didn't do what you did, what would you like to do as a career ? Actually, I've thought about this! IF I could go back in time and know what I know now, I'd be an optometrist specializing in pediatric low vision.

Resistance Is Futile But You Can Try Anyway

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 13:29:06 GMT

Taken from rosewarren

• Leave me a comment saying "Resistance is Futile."

• I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can satisfy my curiosity

• Update your journal with the answers to the questions

Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions

1. What made you decide to host an exchange student?

Truthfully? Because I was first told that it was only going to be for five weeks! The agency that we've hosted students through before called up because they were desperately looking for some one to host this kid. I'd sworn that we'd never host another kid through them....not because of the students that they've sent, they've all been great! But because this agency is a screwed-up mess. I figured five weeks, no big deal! I can put up with the idiot agency for that long. I should have known....
BTW, Valentina is a great kid. We are enjoying having her with us.

2. How long have you had your current job? I guess about five or six years now. When we moved here, I started to work with an Intermediate Unit, which is a school agency that falls inbetween the local school districts and the state department of ed. I enjoyed my work but my last year there my new boss was an insufferable @@%!!! and my daughter had just finished three miserable years of middle school and was begging us to homeschool her for HS. I was already doing a little bit of EI contract work for the county and they were begging me to take on more so I threw caution to the wind and went totally independent. I love it. Even with the filthy places and creepy parents I have to deal with at times.

PS: I don't know how the state where you live handles Early Intervention but you may want to look into doing some work with it. A lot of teachers I know do it for a little extra money for Christmas, vacations, etc.

3. What's the best thing about having a son? Not having to explain all the "femine stuff" to him as he grows up. Other than that, I've enjoyed having a boy and girl about the same.

4. Who is the DW author that makes you drop everything in order to read their newest fic? Do you mean the BBC books or fanfic? If it's BBC books, I never really notice the authors so I couldn't tell you. If it's fanfic....hmmmm.....you, wildwinterwitch, jlrpuck, aibhinn and probably a couple of others.

5. Which do you enjoy more - reading fanfic or writing your own? I guess it's a tie. There are so many writers that are much, much better than me. Then there are so many writers that are so abysmal that it makes me happy to know that I can write better than they can! Kind of a selfish way to look at it, I guess.

Happy Halloween!

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 14:22:38 GMT

I am bored and sitting in Michelle's Cafe waiting for my next home visit.

Un-beta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Title: Happy Halloween!
Characters: Ten, OC
Rating: Absolutely G!

Summary: The title says it all

Happy Halloween!

“When's Doctor comin' back, Mom?” Aiden asked.

Emily turned from the stove where she had just finished emptying a box of spaghetti into a pot of boiling water. “Same time as you two asked me fifteen minutes ago. Soon. He said he'd be back soon.”

“But it HAS been soon!” Sophie complained. “It's been soon for a long time now.”

“Soon is a relative concept, my dear. Especially when it comes to the Doctor. Have him explain it to you one day.”

Sophie rolled her eyes in disgust. “But we're ready to go Trick or Treat now! And he's the one that's gonna take us this year! He said!”

Emily gritted her teeth and counted to ten. “Yeah, he did. And it's still almost an hour before Trick or Treat starts. You couldn't go now anyway.”

Aiden pulled his mask off. “My costume is hot!”

“And who told you NOT to put your costumes on so early? Hmmm?” Emily asked. She held up one hand and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. “You know what this is, it's....” The children finished her sentence for her.

“The smallest violin in the world playing My Heart Bleeds For You,” they chorused.

“Yeah, well, since you know so much, go take off your costumes and wait patiently somewhere else.”

Sophie and Aiden didn't take their costumes off and neither did they go somewhere to wait patiently. They continued to sit at their usual places at the kitchen counter, watching their mother with mournful eyes.

Forty-five minutes later, Emily was ready to kill the Doctor. She's lost count of how many times her two youngest children had pestered her about the Doctor's whereabouts. He'd been here at home nearly all day, helping her drag the Halloween decorations down from the attic and onto the porch where he eagerly helped her set up her usual display of cobwebs and creepy creatures. The two of them had had a blast together, each one bringing out the kid in the other as they stretched fake cobwebs across the bushes and hung cackling witches from the roof of the porch. Then suddenly, just as Emily was going to leave to pick the children up, the Doctor had jumped up from the floor of the porch where he was plugging in some pumpkin lights and exclaimed, “I'll be back in a tick!” and took off running down the street.

If he doesn't show up in time to take these two Trick or Treating, Emily thought to herself. I'll strangle him with those cobwebs!

Just as Sophie and Aiden kicked their whining up another notch, Emily heard the backdoor open and slam shut. The Doctor came flying through the kitchen, clutching a couple bags. “Where the heck have you been?” Emily demanded.
The Doctor skidded to a stop. “Sorry! Took a bit longer than I thought to find what I needed.”

Sophie and Aiden jumped up from the counter. “Doctor! LET'S GO!!!! It's time for Trick or Treat!”

He waved the bags at the children. “Hang on! Gotta put my costume on!” And he turned to run upstairs. The two of them sat back down at their seats, deflated and disappointed that they still had to wait.

“A costume?” Emily said aloud to the kids. “Did you know he was going to wear a costume?” They shook their heads no.

Ten minutes later, they heard the Doctor's footsteps pounding down the stairs. “Ready!” he said triumphantly as bounded into the kitchen. “What do you think of my costume?”

Emily and the children stared. He was wearing a rumpled pair of black pants with odd, wavey-looking white pin-stripes and a long, brown raincoat that had definitely seen better days. “I got these at Goodwill! Marvelous place, that! I think I'll do all my shopping there from now on.

“What's that on your pants?” Emily finally managed to ask.

“Pin-stripes!!” the Doctor said gleefully. “I wanted a pair of pin-striped trousers and they didn't have any so I bough a bottle of white out and put them on myself. Dries quicker than paint! Brilliant! Don't you think?” Some of his enthusiasm was beginning to wane as noticed the subdued reaction of the his three friends.

“What are you supposed to be?” Emily asked. “A well-dressed flasher?”

“What? No! Of course not!” he replied. “OH! I forgot! The most important piece!” He turned his back to them and began to rummage in the pockets of the raincoat. He bent over, put something on his head and then turned back. On his head bobbed a pair of green, ping-pong ball antennas.

“I'm a space alien!” He grinned mischievously at Emily, while he held out his hands and waggled his fingers towards Sophie and Aiden. “C'mon kids! Let's go Trick or Treat!”
j-cut>
I am bored and sitting in Michelle's Cafe waiting for my next home visit.

Un-beta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Why I Love My Job? (Continued)

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 21:57:35 GMT

Okay....so I was on my way back out to the house I wrote about last time - the one with the Chihuahua puppy puddling everywhere, the two cockatiels perching on me and the obnoxious sister. I was nearly there when my cell phone rang. It was the Dad. He told me that they had moved! Not far, thank goodness, only to a town about five miles down the road from where they were living before. Before, he was living in a trailer with his mom and some guy I think was his brother. Now he had moved into his girlfriend's trailer. I asked him for directions to the new place and the Dad said, "You know where the Hot Times Bar is, don't you? You turn down there." It's never a good sign when the parent gives you directions by starting out with a topless bar! I could already hear the strains of Dueling Banjos starting to play in the background.

Well, I had no idea where this loverly establishment was located so I got Dad to give me more complete directions. I found it fairly easily. Their's was the second most run down trailer in the place. The most run down trailer was the one next door that was vacant and had no steps. It wasn't looking too promising but I hoped for the best.

Dad met me at the door and I stepped into an absolute pigstye. It wasn't the dirtiest place I'd ever been in but it was a darn close second. The first thing that hit me was the stench of old dog pee and a yappy, growly little mutt that nipped at my pants leg. Junior came running over, happy as a lark with a giant boil of green snot hanging out of his nose. The place was small and packed with all sorts of crap. The floor and carpet were filthy and I did not take my shoes off as I usually do in someone's house. I wanted to keep at least one part of me clean. Girlfriend lay on the couch under a blanket. The TV was blaring the Cartoon Network. (Hey! At least it wasn't Jerry Springer!) Obnoxious sister was there as well.

I guided Junior over past the TV and took up my usual working position of sitting on the floor cross-legged. I would have sat on one of the couches to work but the rug was cleaner. Junior plunked down on my lap. Suddenly a little voice behind me said, "Hi!" I turned to face a little boy around three years old. He had a t-shirt on backwards and was wearing a pair of shorts where he had both legs stuffed into one leg hole and pulled up so high that he had one butt cheek and and his little weenie hanging out for all to see. Needless to say, he had no underwear on.

All I could do was burst out laughing. His mom called him over and fixed up his clothes while I tried to get started with Junior. Today was an absolute disaster with him. Sister and the little boy were both constantly in my face and Junior's as I tried to work with Junior on finding pictures in books and pointing at them for me. They tried to snatch the books out of my hands and when I wouldn't let them, they'd fuss and pout. Girlfriend hollered at them ineffectually from her nest on one of the couches. Dad was equally useless with his hollering but at least he was at the sink in the kitchen doing dishes.

The two older kids started fighting over a hunk of Play-Doh and moved their battle to the couch behind me. It turned into a game where the girl was jumping up and down on the couch while the boy used the back of the couch to literally start climbing the walls of the trailer. Junior sat huddled on my lap while I wiped a never-ending flow of green snot from his nose.

I was really disappointed today. I had a lot of hope for this Dad and Junior because when they were living at the Grandmother's trailer, it had been a good bit crazy and chaotic, it was at least clean and there were plenty of appropriate toys around for Junior to play with. There was not a single toy in girlfriend's trailer to be seen today. I asked Dad where I should come next week and he said back here. Oh. Joy.

Happy Birthdays!

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 00:32:41 GMT

Happy Birthday to

aibhinnand rosewarren!

The Slow Path Home - Chapter 14/?

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 02:28:02 GMT

It's still Saturday in the US for another hour-and-a-half!

Title: The Slow Path Home

Author: callme_al01

Fandom: Doctor Who New Series, Written for Tardis BigBang Round 2

Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and not to me. Rats!

Genre/Characters: H/C; Tenth Doctor, OC, Rose, Donna and maybe some others later on.

Rating: PG

Beta: aibhinn , Also many thanks to chocclarefor her invaluable help with British things.

Spoilers: Brief mention of 2009 Easter Special in the first chapter

Warnings: The first chapter is a bit bloody and has some graphic violence. Nothing after the first chapter will be like that.

Summary: "It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone." Rose Kennedy

Chapter 14

Emily sat in her van in the empty parking lot of the school. It was a quarter after two and there were still forty-five minutes until school let out, but she had wanted some time to herself, some time to think about the events of the day.

She went down the hallway in the attic to the room where the Doctor's ship sat. Or rather, where it should have sat. Now there was just an empty space where the dust and the cobwebs had been blown away. Emily turned to run downstairs to let the Doctor know his ship was missing. “He's going to feel awful when he hears about this,” she said to herself as she dodged and weaved through the clutter of the attic. “Just awful....” Emily came to a stop at the top of the attic stairs. He knew, she realized. He knew about it since the moment it happened. She recalled that strange episode she had during church on New Year's Day. “It must have happened right then. And when I came back from church, that was when the Doctor said he wasn't feeling well. That explains every thing.”

Emily stood in the attic for a few minutes, uncertain of what to do next. Finally, she went back downstairs to the Doctor's room. He was still there on the couch reading his book.

“Your ship. It's...”

“Gone. Yeah, I know.” the Doctor said in a casually, not bothering to look up from his book.

“So it's no big deal then?” Emily asked, confused by his tone of voice. “It's coming back?”

The Doctor shook his head. He still didn't look at her.

“Somebody's gonna come for you though. Aren't they?”

The Doctor shook his head again.

“But when they realize you're missing, won't somebody come looking for you?”

“No. No one is going to come looking for me.”

“But your family...they'll wonder where you are won't they?”

“No!” the Doctor finally exploded. “I told you, there's no one!” He tossed the book down and finally looked at her. “There's just me, got that? There's nobody else. Nobody's gonna come to whisk me away and take me off your hands! So sorry to disappoint you!” His voice cracked a little as he shouted at her.

The Doctor looked so heartbroken and fragile that Emily's first instinct was to go to him and wrap him up in hug. She even started to take a step towards him to do just that, but stopped herself. She thought that might not be the right thing to do at the moment. She was afraid that if she tried anything like that, he'd fall apart on her and that would only heap humiliation on top of everything else. “That's not why I asked. I just meant....” Words failed her. “I'm sorry.” That was all she could think to say.

Some of the anger drained from him. He shrugged dismissively. “It doesn't matter anyway.”

“Of course it matters! What happened? Why?”

The Doctor shrugged again. “It's gone. That's all you need to know.”

“All I need to know?” Emily echoed in disbelief. “Excuse me, buddy, but I think I'm entitled to a bit more information than that! Did somebody steal it? Did somebody break into my house and steal it?”

“No,” the Doctor answered sullenly. He turned back to his book again.

“HEY!” Emily snatched the book away from him. Her concern for him fading rapidly in the face of his arrogance and rudeness. “I want an answer! What happened?”

“Nothing! It's just gone! Can't you leave it at that?” The Doctor reached out to snatch the book back but Emily kept it away from him.

“No you don't! Quit trying to hide behind a book and talk to me! I want an answer.”

The Doctor set his jaw stubbornly and glared at her.

“Tell me what happened!” Emily demanded angrily. “Who stole it and are they going to come...” She stopped in mid-sentence. “No! YOU stole it! That space box belonged to someone else and you're the one that stole it! That's what happened. And the owners caught up with you and took it back. That's what happened, isn't it?” The way the Doctor's eyes went wide at her accusation confirmed to Emily that she was right.

“You're a thief then, huh?” Emily threw up her arms and ran her hands through her hair. “Oh, the is just great! What else have you stolen and who's going to come after you next? Are we gonna be arrested by some intergalactic FBI for harboring one of their Ten Most Wanted?”

“No! That's not what happened! Not at all!” The Doctor frantically tried to reassure her. “I mean, yes, I did steal my ship originally. But that was a long time ago. A very long time ago. And, anyway, they ended up letting me keep it so it's mine! Really it is! Nobody is going to come here to arrest you. I promise!”

Emily was furious at this point. “So tell me the truth for once! You show up here all beat to hell and near dead! You said you were in a fight. What happened? What's going to happen? Is there someone after you? If anything happens to my kids....”

“No! NoNoNoNo! Nobody is coming after me. I told you! I'd never do anything to harm your children. I've told you that before.”

Emily stood over the Doctor, hands on her hips. “Tell me the truth. Who are you? What happened?”

The Doctor looked away once again. “I've told you everything that you need to know,” he said. “My ship is gone and it's not coming back. I'm not a thief. No one is going to come looking for me.”

“That's not good enough,” Emily said quietly. “I'm giving you one chance. I want real answers.”

“I GAVE you answers,” the Doctor replied. “They real and they're true and they're the only ones you are going to get.”

“Fine then.” Emily handed the book back to him. “Get out.”

“What?” the Doctor asked.

“Get out,” Emily repeated. “As in get out of my house.”

“But....” the Doctor stammered. “But I can't.” He gestured towards his leg. “ I can't go anywhere on this. Not in this weather.”

“I don't care,” Emily snapped. “I'll call you a taxi. I'll buy you an airplane ticket to Florida and you can hitch a ride on the space shuttle. Whatever.”

The Doctor looked up at her, his eyes wide with shock. “I don't have anywhere to go.”

“Go to England. You sound just like one of them. You'll fit in great.” Emily turned away from the Doctor. “I'm going to go pick the kids up from school. While I'm gone, you figure out where you want to go and I'll get the ball rolling on it as soon as I get back. Got it?”

Emily began to walk away but the Doctor grabbed his crutches and hauled himself up to his feet to follow after her. “Emily! Wait! Please!”

She stopped and turned back towards him.

“Please don't do this! I'm sorry I can't give you the answers you want but I can't. I just can't!” he pleaded.

Emily looked at the Doctor, all scruffy and skinny, leaning on his crutches. His eyes were bright, almost like they had tears in them. She felt herself starting to give in.

“Why not?” Emily asked.

The Doctor looked down at his feet. “I just can't,” he mumbled.

“Well, then. I gave you your chance. Start thinking.” She turned and left.

Emily shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat. The car was hot and stuffy, but at least it was private. Here, she could think without much chance of being interrupted

She'd thrown him out. She'd laid down the law and told him it was time to get out of Dodge. And it was high time she'd did it, too. She'd been crazy to put up with him for as long as she did. She should have called in the government the moment she found him in the attic on Christmas Day. The Doctor was some kind of intergalactic criminal, and it was just pure luck on her part. that he or some other nefarious alien criminal hadn't killed them all in their sleep. He was damn lucky she'd been dumb enough to let him hide with them for as long as she had. He need to go ASAP. It was the right thing to do.

So why did she feel so bad about it?

Because you're too nice, Emily angrily told herself. That's always been your problem. You're just too damn nice and afraid to hurt anyone's feelings. Even some outer space jerk's feelings.

She had several good and valid reasons to kick the Doctor out of her house, she knew. He was rude. He ate like a horse. He was a bad influence on her kids, teaching them to belch for recreation. Those things,while annoying, were tolerable. But this morning had been the straw that broke the camel's back. Somebody or something had been in her house and had taken that spaceship out of it without her knowledge, and that frightened her. Bad enough she had one alien showing up in her house, but at least she had discovered him right away. Who else had been in her house without her knowing it, attracted by the Doctor's presence, and who else would show up? Who knew what they might take with them next time? It was a threat to her family, to her children, and she would not tolerate that. And on top of all that, he was hiding something from her and lying about it. Oh, yeah, the Doctor claimed that he was telling her the truth, and maybe he was. But that was not the point. The point was that he wasn't telling her the whole truth. He was hiding something from her, and to Emily, that was the same as lying. She had put up with enough lies and truth-hiding in her life, and she sure as hell didn't plan on putting up with any more. She'd given him a chance to tell her the whole story, and he hadn't, so that was that. No second chances. That was her rule in life now, at least when it came to adults.

Emily slumped behind the wheel of the car and turned up the music on the radio. It was Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, and she hoped that it would take her mind off the problem with the Doctor. It didn't work. Unconsciously, she began to bite her nails as her mind continued to churn.

Some movement over at the school's gym building caught her attention. The door flew open and out came a small gaggle of children: Sophie's class, to be exact. They must have been having recess in the gym; the weather was far too cold and the ground far too snowy to have recess outside. They scampered along the plowed path from the gym to the main school building. Sophie looked over in surprise at her mother's vehicle. It was nearly unheard-of for Emily to be this early at school; she usually ran just on time or a few minutes late. Sophie smiled at her and waved, and Emily waved back. Just as they finished exchanging waves, the last of the class came out of the building. It was a small knot of boys, and as soon as they came out of the door, they took off running. A couple of them scooped up snow and began flinging it at the others. One of the boys, trying to dodge the snowballs thrown by the others, knocked into another boy who had been slowly walking toward the school building. That child went tumbling face first into the bank of plowed snow that lined the sidewalk while the other boy ran heedlessly on into the school. The boy sat up slowly, looking cold and miserable and ready to cry. The rest of the boys didn't stop to help him as they hurried into the building. Emily recognized him as the new boy who started at the school just this week. His family had moved up the DuBois from Florida over Christmas. Talk about culture shock, she thought. Emily began to open the car door to go over to help the boy but someone else beat her to it: Sophie. She must have seen what had happened and came back to help. Emily let go of the door handle as she watched Sophie help the boy up and knock away some of the snow sticking to him. She then took his hand and walked with him into the school, smiling and chattering at him the whole way.

Emily smiled. She's just like me at that age, she thought. Everybody's friend.

You take in all the broken little birds,” Emily remembered her father saying when she'd been a child. Within a couple of weeks of starting at a school, Emily had invariably wound up with a small flock of the lonely and unpopular gathered around her in the lunch room and at recess. The same pattern had repeated itself even through her high school years. She could never bear being mean or unfriendly toward anyone. Her Dad had always seemed proud of her for that, so even though she'd always longed to find a place among the “popular” kids, she'd continued being tolerant and kind to those kids that no one else seemed to want to bother with. Typically, her mother had been less than proud of her youngest daughter. Emily's smile fell away as she recalled the lectures her mother had given her on befriending the “right” kind of people; the “right” kind of people being the daughters and sons(particularly the sons) of other high-ranking embassy personnel. “Why can't you be more like your sister?” her mother had nagged. “She's careful about the friends she chooses, and you can see what that gets her! She gets invited to parties, weekend trips. All you do is sit around reading or hang out with those low-class teenagers who glom onto you wherever we're assigned!” Her had mother never seemed to understand the fact that she found her low-class friends much nicer than the snobbish, spoiled friends of her sister.

“All the little broken birds,” Emily repeated softly. It had been a very long time since she had thought about that. She supposed Sophie and Aiden were a couple of her little birds. They'd certainly been broken when she'd stumbled into their lives. She didn't think they were broken now.

And what about the Doctor? an inner voice asked her. Isn't he one of your broken birds, too?

Broken, yeah, Emily argued back at herself. But I can't do anything else to fix that leg of his, and he sure as heck is no little bird. He's more like a porcupine than anything else! She gave a snort of exasperation and moved the seat back more, trying to relax, but the feeling that she had done something wrong by ordering the Doctor to leave just wouldn't go away.

The kids were going to be disappointed by the Doctor leaving, she realized. All three of them had grown quite attached to him very quickly, and they had worried over him these past few days while he had been “sick.” Jonathan's first words when he got into the car with her after school were to inquire if she knew how the Doctor was feeling that day. Aiden and Sophie had been constantly sneaking up to his room, not to play with him but to check on him. They had brought him the things that Emily usually brought to them when they were sick: snacks, toys and other comfort items. Aiden had even brought him his silky, a soft, blue flannel blanket that had a wide blue silk border that he'd had since he was a baby and slept with every night. The baggies of cookies and crackers had piled up uneaten on the nightstand next to the bed, but the toys and blanket had stayed in the bed with the Doctor. Emily had been careful to not to mention them when she came in to check on him herself.

Well, it wasn't like he was going to stay with them forever anyway. The Doctor had made it clear to both Emily and Jonathan from the start he was going to leave as soon as he was able, and she had always told Sophie and Aiden that he was a visitor who would be going home at some point.

Other cars began to pull into the parking lot around her as the end of the school day approached. She saw the car belonging to the new family from Florida pull up a few spaces away from her, and it reminded her of what had happened with Sophie and the new boy earlier. The boy had looked so lost and sad sitting there in the snow. It had been the same look that she had seen in the eyes of the boy in that dream. And it had been the same look she had seen in the Doctor's eyes when she left his room before coming here.

Children started to come out of the building, so Emily opened the car door and stood up to stretch her legs and to watch for her kids. The cold air felt good in her lungs and on her face after sitting for so long in the warm, stuffy car, and it seemed to lift some of the worry away from her. She saw Jonathan come out of one door with Aiden. He and Sophie usually picked up their little brother from the daycare that the school ran on the way out, but this time Sophie was nowhere in sight. Emily frowned slightly and looked around as Jonathan and Aiden walked towards the car. She hoped Sophie wasn't being held up by the teacher for one of her already-legendary inappropriate comments. A few seconds later, Sophie came out of the door, still holding the hand of the little boy who had been knocked into the snow. Instead of letting his hand go and running to her mother, Sophie held onto his hand and walked with him over to his own car. The little boy's was smiling and his eyes were bright and happy. Sophie waved good-bye to her new friend, then walked over to where her brothers had stopped to wait for her, and the three of them started over towards Emily. As Emily watched them, she made a decision. Sometimes,she thought, it's okay to break a rule—even a rule about no second chances.

“Hey, Mom! Sophie's got a boyfriend!” Jonathan teased when they reached her.

“DO NOT!” Sophie aimed a punch at Jonathan, who laughed and danced out of the way. Aiden wisely stayed out of the fray.

“You three! I swear you're going to send me to the loony bin before long,” Emily laughed. “Get in the car, my three little birds. We need to go home and see how our big gooney bird is doing.”

A Feeling Of Evil Satisfaction

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 12:42:05 GMT

Jude Law in 'Hamlet': What a Piece of Work

By Peter Marks
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, October 8, 2009

NEW YORK --

"Indicating" is a major no-no in the theater, the word acting teachers often use to admonish students who are not so much playing a role as telegraphing to an audience what it is they intend to play.

So let's put it this way about Jude Law's performance in the much-anticipated -- and highly disappointing -- new "Hamlet" on Broadway: He's a most handsome and polished indicator.

The approach he's been encouraged to pursue in this modern-dress production, which opened Tuesday night at the Broadhurst Theatre, is to assemble his Hamlet as one would a puzzle, out of a million isolated acting pieces. Invariably there is a concrete basis for what he's doing in Shakespeare's text, but the portrayal is consistently so literal, it's as if he's working out a character for a culture with only a tangential knowledge of English. (Shakespeare enthusiasts: no jokes, please.)

If the verse includes an allusion to heaven, you can bet Law will point to the sky. If Hamlet makes a reference to a jungle animal, sure as shootin' Law turns into one. For every action of any other actor on the stage, he supplies four, and he never stops gesticulating. Is the idea here that Law's Hamlet thinks all the world's a college stage?

If Hamlet's instructions to the visiting Players -- whom he famously enlists to catch the conscience of the king -- is to "not saw the air too much with your hand," Hamlet should on this occasion practice what he preaches.

It's not at all clear that audiences that have paid to see a well-spoken star perform prettily will come away from this lucid if lackluster staging dissatisfied. Law has matinee-idol magnetism to spare. As with the flawed "A Steady Rain" that is playing a block away with Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig, movie wattage may be radiance enough. And on some superficial level, director Michael Grandage's production successfully conveys the mechanics of the tragedy, while Christopher Oram's sleek black-on-black sets and costumes apply a suitably ominous varnish to all that's rotten in Denmark.

But if you're looking for an evening that provides anything close to a fresh perspective on the play, you're likely to have your hopes dashed but good. For here is a "Hamlet" without invigorating insight. Rarely, for example, do a Claudius and Gertrude -- Hamlet's usurping uncle and inconstant mother -- register so ineffectually. Kevin R. McNally seems to have been coached to deprive Claudius of any fight or even guile; even more surprising is the wan turn by the usually inspiring Geraldine James, whose shrinking violet of a Gertrude fades into the scenery. It doesn't help that the interlude Grandage chooses for unconventional presentation is the bedroom scene between Hamlet and Gertrude, here viewed through the sheer drapes Polonius hides behind. The effect is to muddy the focus and reduce one of the play's tensest confrontations to mere overheard agitated exchange.

The dynamic among Polonius (Ron Cook) and his children, the equally doomed Laertes (Gwilym Lee) and Ophelia (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), plays out just as dully; you experience neither Polonius's foolishness nor Ophelia's daughterly devotion -- after the murder of her father, one of the ostensible causes of her madness. Matt Ryan's impassioned Horatio makes a far more favorable impression, especially in the production's best sequences, the early scenes in which the Ghost of Hamlet's father (Peter Eyre) materializes to set the machinery of revenge in motion.

These also seem Law's most accomplished scenes, maybe because we're not yet aware of what's in store. So much of the celebrated soliloquizing to come fails to bind us to the predicament of this Hamlet, or to help us understand what's at stake for this young man, as he wrestles with the meaning of his actions, contemplates the possibly horrific consequences and the bleak intimations of death.

At the performance I attended, Law appeared to drop two words in Hamlet's most famous line; my seatmate heard the same thing. "To be or not . . ." we heard him say. Whether we both had heard correctly is immaterial. The moment stood for all in this production that felt absent.

Hamlet, by William Shakespeare. Directed by Michael Grandage. Lighting, Neil Austin; composer and sound, Adam Cork. With Henry Pettigrew, Ian Drysdale, Sean Jackson, John MacMillian, Harry Atwell, Jenny Funnell. About 3 hours 15 minutes. Through Dec. 6 at Broadhurst Theatre, 235 W. 44th St., New York. Visit http://www.telecharge.com or call 212-239-6200.

Important Cultural Comparison

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 00:59:31 GMT

Russian rap music sounds just as awful as American rap music.

Why I Love My Work??!!??

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 01:08:36 GMT

Today I paid my first visit to a little boy who has just moved into the area I serve. I won't be having him for very long because he is already 2 1/2 and they get passed on to the pre-school system at 3. Anyway....I finally found their trailer on a back street on the not-so-good side of a small town and went in. I spent about an hour on the floor with a Chihuahua puppy in my lap, one cockatiel perched on my shoulder, a second cockatiel perched on my head, with a little boy with green snot running out of his nose and his older sister constantly in my face wanting me to play with HER! To top it all off, my jeans and socks got wet with SOMETHING....I'm not sure what. Might have been something spilled from the little boy's sippy cup. But, then again, there is a puppy. I went home right after than and showered and changed my clothes before going anywhere else.

Despite all that, I think I am going to like working with this kid. He is sweet and cute and even with the menagerie, the trailer is fairly clean. And they had the TV on but it was tuned to an educational show. Unlike two of the houses I went to this week where one had a raunchy movie on and the other had a Jerry Springer-type show on spouting filth-right in front of the toddlers I was there to see. So there is good going on in this little guy's life.

33 Questions Meme

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 21:57:58 GMT

Can you fill this out without lying? You've been tagged, so now you need to answer all the questions HONESTLY. At the end, choose at least 8 people to be tagged.

From nipplemuggins

I tag...everyone who can be bothered to do this ;)

1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth? A pack of Ritz Peanut Butter Crackers.

2. Where was your profile picture taken? Gallifrey

3. Can you play Guitar Hero? No. Never tried. My son can.

4. Name someone who made you laugh today. Ayden Schaffer-Doan

5. How late did you stay up last night and why? 10:30 PM

6. If you could move somewhere else, would

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks? Nope.

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you? If you mean LJ friends, I guess jlrpuck or pacejunkie.

9. Do you believe ex's can be friends? Don't know. Never had an ex and I hope I never will!

10. How do you feel about Dr Pepper? I'd drink it to prevent dehydration and death.

11. When was the last time you cried really hard? Not for a while. Like a couple of years.

12. Who took your profile picture? The Doctor when he was home for a vacation.

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of? My nephews.

14. Was yesterday better than today? Not really. I have a headache.

15. Can you live a day without TV? Easily. I can't remember the last time I turned it on.

16. Are you upset about anything? A few things. Not upset really, just worried. And I'm not going to go into them here for public consumption.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it? Absolutely.

18. Are you a bad influence? Absolutely!

19. Night out or night in? Depends. More often a night in. I tend to become non-functional after 9 PM.

20. What item could you not go without during the day? My car.

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? One of my little students.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say? I don't text.

23. How do you feel about your life right now? Fair to middlin'.

24. Do you hate anyone? Yeah, but I'm not going to name names.

25. If we were to look in your inbox, what would we find? An eclectic assortment!

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass? Heavens yes!

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before? God no.

28. What song is stuck in your head? The Russian national anthem. Our exchange student just played it on her laptop.

29. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m., who do you want it to be? The Doctor wanting to know if I'd like to take just one trip.

30. Wanna have grand kids by the time you're 50? Maybe. It's only 5 years away. OH MY GOD!

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow? Get an MRI.

32. Do you think too much or too little? Much too much.

33. Do you smile a lot? I don't know but I don't think so.

The Slow Path Home Chapter 13/?

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 19:08:51 GMT

Sorry it's been so long since I lasted posted a chapter for this. Life and computer failures take their toll. I will try my best to have a chapter ready every Saturday but I can't promise it. Thank you for being patient!

Title: The Slow Path Home

Author: callme_al01

Fandom: Doctor Who New Series, Written for Tardis BigBang Round 2

Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and not to me. Rats!

Genre/Characters: H/C; Tenth Doctor, OC, Rose, Donna and maybe some others later on.

Rating: PG

Beta: aibhinn , Also many thanks to chocclarefor her invaluable help with British things.

Spoilers: Brief mention of 2009 Easter Special in the first chapter

Warnings: The first chapter is a bit bloody and has some graphic violence. Nothing after the first chapter will be like that.

Summary: "It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone." Rose Kennedy

Chapter 13

Father Michael had just finished the Gospel reading and Emily, along with the rest of the parishioners of St. Nicholas Church who had made it in that morning, sat down to listen to Father read a New Year's message from the Metropolitan. Emily was glad it was just a relatively short letter that they would have to listen to this morning. Father Michael's sermons, while usually very good, also tended to be rather long, and some of the folks seated in the pews looked as if they had stayed up much too late last night. Even Sophie and Aiden were rather subdued this morning. So far, Emily hadn't even had to separate the two of them by putting herself in between them. Usually, she had to do that well before they reached the readings. Emily shifted uncomfortably in her seat and stifled a yawn. She planned on at least trying to take a short nap after they got back home.

That was when it hit her.

It felt as if somebody had just kicked her hard in the gut, and she probably would have fallen to the ground if she hadn't already been sitting. Whatever it was knocked the breath out of her, and for several seconds, she thought she might throw up right then and there in the middle of church. Her legs wouldn't have held her up to get her out of there and downstairs to the bathroom. A feeling of panic began to build up in her as well. It all seemed to go on forever before fading, leaving her frightened, nauseated and in a cold sweat with a killer headache.

“What just happened?” Emily frantically wondered. “Did I just have a heart attack?” She looked over at the children to see if they had noticed. Thankfully, they had not. Neither had anyone else in the church it seemed. Emily straightened back up in the pew, took off her glasses and rubbed her hands over her face. The feeling was nearly gone now, even the headache was fading. “Whatever it was, I'll just have to deal with it later,” she told herself. “Can't do anything about it now and I won't frighten the kids for no good reason.” Father finished reading the letter and Emily stood back up with the rest of the congregation as the service continued.

By the time Liturgy ended and they had filed downstairs for coffee hour, all the symptoms of the earlier episode had vanished. Emily felt fine now, except for the nagging worry now of figuring out just what the heck had happened to her. She debated asking Father or one of her friends here at church to drive her over to the Emergency Room to get checked out, but what would she do with the kids? What if they had her stay overnight? Maybe the Doctor wouldn't mind minding them for a night,Emily thought to herself.

Emily froze in place as she suddenly realized what had happened. The Doctor. Something had happened to the Doctor. That was what had caused that episode upstairs in the church. She had no doubt about it. That was nearly exactly like how she had felt when she woke up from that dream she had the night he was so sick, only this time she had been awake and it was certainly no dream. What the hell had happened?

Emily picked up her plate that she had just finished fixing for herself and found Jonathan. “I'm going to run this plate back to the house for the Doctor,” she told him quietly. “I'll probably stay over there. I feel bad leaving him alone this long. Just make sure your brother and sister don't get into too much trouble. Okay?” Jonathan nodded and Emily gave him a smile before heading out the door.

The house was quiet when Emily returned. She undid her wet, snow-covered boots as quickly as possible and headed toward the front stairs. Pippin was lying on the bottom landing, his muzzle resting on the next stair up, his eyes fixed on the upper floor. When he saw Emily, he raised his head and whined a little. “C'mon, Pip.” she told him as she started up the stairs.

The door to the Doctor's bedroom was shut, so she knocked and called in to him. “Hey, it's me, Doctor. I've got a plate of goodies for ya!” Emily tried to keep the worry out of her voice. There was silence for several seconds and she raised her hand to knock again when the Doctor's voice stopped her.

“Come in.”

Emily opened the door and stepped into the room. The Doctor was back on the bed, buried underneath the sheet and comforter as if he had been sleeping. He didn't sit up or raise his head, just watched her as she came in.

“I brought you some things from coffee hour,” she told him. “Some homemade holupki and pirogies. Some cookies and a piece of cake, too. One of the grandmas made 'em.” The grandmas were a group of older ladies in the church who liked to cook in the good, old-fashioned, fattening way. Everyone loved it when one of them had coffee hour.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I'll have some later. Just set it down.”

“Tastes better when it's hot,” Emily motioned with her free hand at the holupki.

“Yeah. I'm just not hungry right now.”

Emily looked at the Doctor in concern. She hadn't know him for very long but she knew one thing, if he wasn't hungry, something was wrong. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I'm all right. Just a bit tired.”

“No, you're not. I know you're not.” Emily stated flatly.

“I'm tired, that's all. How would you know if I'm not?” He said that with a trace of his usual irritation that made Emily feel a little better.

“Mother's intuition,” she told him. She didn't want him to know about what had happened at the church or when he had been so sick. If she was wrong, she'd just look silly. If she was right, she knew he wouldn't like it. “Just like I knew the other day you were just pretending to be asleep so you could ignore me.”

The Doctor sighed and turned his head away. “You're right. I am feeling a bit poorly. My leg's a little sore this morning.”

“Ah-ha!” Emily said. “Told you. Can't hide stuff from me. Just ask the kids.” She sat the plate down on the dresser. “Have you been taking care of that leg of yours the way you should? Been changing the bandages and stuff?”

“Yes.”

“How about the pills? Did you finish them the way you were supposed to?”

“Sort of.”

Emily raised her eyebrows at him questioningly.

“I spit the pill out in the trash that one night.” the Doctor confessed.

Emily shook her finger at him and smiled. “Yeah, I figured that. Saw the pill in the trash can when I emptied it the other night.”

“Can't pull anything over on you, can I?” he said with a small smile.

“Nah, I know all. I see all. The Incredible Klapetzky.”

“I did take the last one.” Emily looked at him doubtfully. “Honest.” he said.

“Maybe I should take your temperature. Maybe the infection is starting back up again.” Emily looked around the room. “Where'd I put that meat thermometer?” She reached a hand out to feel his forehead but the Doctor roughly pushed her hand away.

“I don't have a temperature. I can assure you of that.”

Emily put her hands on her hips and looked thoughtfully at him for a few seconds. “I think maybe you're trying to do too much too soon,” she said to him. “We kept you partying 'til midnight last night. Maybe you need to take it easy today. Just stay quiet and rest.”

“Yeah, I'll do that. Just rest up for a day or two. If that's okay with you.”

“Of course it is! I've told you you don't need to hurry away. You can stay here as long as you want.” Emily looked down at him. Something wasn't right. It was more than just him overexerting himself, but she didn't know what it could be. The freckles across his cheeks and nose stood out in stark relief on his pale face. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, almost as if he had been crying, and the circles beneath them had come back. She reached out to brush his hair back from his forehead and this time he didn't push her hand away. “You rest today. I'll keep the kids away. Okay?” The Doctor nodded. “I'll put this food in the 'fridge until you're ready for it, too.” Emily picked up the plate and tried to turn to leave, but nearly toppled over because Pippin had deposited himself right underneath her feet. “Pippin!” Emily cried in exasperation. “Downstairs!”

“He can stay, can't he?” the Doctor asked.

“I suppose, if you want him to.” Emily looked at the dog. “And if he wants to, which seems to be the case.” Pippin had moved back closer to the bed.

Emily moved toward the door. “You call me if you need anything. All right?”

The Doctor nodded so Emily started to leave.

“Emily.”

She stopped and looked back.

“Thank you.”

Emily smiled. “Aw. Anytime, my buddy,” she told him.

***

The Doctor stayed in bed, “resting,” for three days. Oh, he did get up every morning: washed up, brushed his teeth but didn't bother shaving, picked at his meals, then he would crawl back underneath the covers and shut his eyes. On the morning of the fourth day, before Emily and the kids left for work and school, she told him that if he wasn't feeling any better by the time she got home that afternoon she was going to hoist him up over her shoulder and take him to a doctor, two hearts and other alien weirdness be damned. The Doctor had no doubt that Emily would do it. So sometime after the family left the house, he got out of bed, went over to the window seat and spent the day watching out the window. Thinking. Remembering.

He didn't know how long he had sat there on the cold, dirty attic floor after he had watched the TARDIS leave him; not moving, not breathing, not wanting to accept the awfulness of what happened. Finally, his lungs reached their limit and he had to breathe so he gasped for air. But the gasp came out as sob, followed by another and then another. No tears, just sobbing. He couldn't stop sobbing. The Doctor ground the heels of his hands into his eyes as hard as he could, the pressure and pain causing an explosion of fireworks behind his eyes. He kept at it until it hurt enough to stop the sobs.

Church bells began to ring down the street, prompting the Doctor to reach for his crutches and scramble to his feet. Somehow, he made it back across the box-strewn attic, down the stairs and back to the bedroom. He took his one trainer off, and then carefully put the pair of them underneath the bed. His jacket he folded neatly and hung over the headboard. Then he crawled into the bed and shut his sore eyes.

The Doctor was numb. He lay in bed with his eyes closed and felt absolutely nothing. “I should be feeling something,” he thought. “I should be angry or sad or...or...something, but I'm not.” His constant companion through hundreds of years and countless adventures was gone, had fled from him, and he felt nothing. He simply took that as proof of what a monster he really was. He didn't care about his friends. Not really. He just turned them into weapons to kill and destroy in his name. Hadn't that been what he'd been trying to do with the TARDIS? Tried to use her as the weapon of his own destruction?

For the first time in his life, he craved sleep. Sleep was the closest thing he could get to the nothingness he had wanted so badly for himself, and blessedly, his sleep was dream-free. He would just shut his eyes and when he opened them again, it would be two, three, even four hours later. When he was awake, he'd try to keep his mind as empty as possible, listening to the sounds of the house or stretching his long arm down to the floor where Pippin had taken up post by the bed, tangling his fingers in the dog's shaggy hair and gently scratching.

It was Emily's ultimatum that finally forced him to get up and face his situation.

The Doctor watched out the window, trying to fight down the panic growing inside of him. What would he do now? Where would he go? What kind of life would he have now?

When the Time Lords had exiled him to Earth seven lives ago, at least they let him keep the TARDIS. Even when she couldn't travel, she had been there for him; somewhere to go to get away from the mundaneness of an Earth-bound life, a base of operations, somewhere to call home. He could bear the exile because of her. Then on Krop Tor, when he'd thought he had lost the TARDIS, at least he'd had Rose. With Rose at his side, the Doctor knew he could bear anything. Now here he was stuck in one time and place. No TARDIS. No Rose. No one. For the first time in his long life, he was absolutely and completely alone.

A part of him tried to argue. You're not alone. You've got friends on this planet: Jack, Martha, Mickey...... plenty of people you could turn to.

No. Absolutely not. The Doctor was too ashamed of himself, too ashamed of what he had done to cause himself to be in this situation to admit it to anyone. And way down in the depths of his soul, he still had a little bit of pride left. If he went to Jack or to Martha or even to Sarah Jane, they would help him. They'd take him in. The Doctor had no doubt about that. They'd take him in and they'd pity him: the Time Lord who had destroyed himself. He didn't want anyone's pity.

Killing himself was still an option, he told himself. Easy. Emily had guns, after all. But he couldn’t. Not anymore. The false courage he had worked up previously was gone. He was only willing to die if someone else would do the dirty work for him. Suicide by TARDIS, so to speak.

So, what could he do? He couldn't stay here at the Klapetzkys'. He was an intruder in their lives; an intruder and a danger. How long before some old enemy tracked him down to this house? Or before some new disaster followed him to this town? He needed to leave. He needed to run as fast and as far as he could away from this home before something happened to this family that had been so good to him.

The Doctor looked down at his left leg stretched out on the window seat. He couldn't run, though, could he? Not on this shambles of a leg. The infection was gone and the muscles and skin seemed to be healing well enough, but he still couldn't put an ounce of weight on it. He'd tried this morning on his way to the en suite, and the slightest touch of his foot on the ground had sent bolts of pain shooting up his leg. The Doctor couldn't understand it and could only theorize that the infection had so badly damaged the internal structure of the bone that it was going to take a long time to heal properly. If it ever did heal properly, that was. There were limits to how much even Gallifreyan physiology could bounce back from short of a regeneration.

A gust of wind rattled a loose window pane, and the Doctor shivered involuntarily at the sound. In this ice and snow on a bad leg and with only the clothes on his back, he'd never even make it round the block. He was well and truly stuck here, at least until spring.

He'd have to talk to Emily, he realized. Explain the situation and ask her if he could stay for awhile longer. The thought made him sick, having to go to her and beg for her help. But the thought of her saying no made him feel even sicker because he had no one else to turn to. He wouldn't blame her for saying no. He'd been the unexpected house guest from hell, and if he had found himself in a similar situation, he'd have thrown himself out on his ear long ago. And if he explained to her what had happened, if he told her the truth of what he was, she'd never let him stay. He remembered how Joan had reacted when she found out what he really was. She couldn't even bear to look at him she ordered him away. The Doctor shut his eyes and leaned wearily against the window frame. He'd think about it more later; he was done with thinking for now.

**

Emily turned into the driveway and pulled into the garage. Her last two home visits for the day had canceled so she was able to come back to the house at midday. She was of two minds about this unexpected free time. Part of her welcomed the chance to come home early and check in on the Doctor while the other part of her cursed the loss of two billable hours and the smaller paycheck it would bring at the end of the month.

Once inside, Emily quickly shed her coat and boots and went upstairs. “Hey, Doctor! I'm home early! Surprise! Surprise! Surprise! ” she called as she went up the steps. His door was ajar when she reached it so she went ahead on in. The Doctor was sitting on the couch with a book in his lap. Emily smiled at him. “You're up!” she said happily. “Are you feeling better?”

“A bit, yes,” the Doctor answered, a small smile briefly flitting across his face.

“That's great! I'm glad.” To be honest, Emily didn't think he looked much better. He still had that look of bone-crushing weariness about him, as if it took all of the strength he had just to talk with her. Well, at least he was up and out of that bed. That was a start anyway.

“My last two kids called in sick on me, so I decided to come on home. Catch up on a little housework, maybe. How 'bout I stay up here with you and keep you company for a while?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, that's not necessary. Go on and do something more useful than sitting about with me. I'm fine. Got plenty of reading material to keep me busy.”

“Okay,” Emily shrugged. “Can I run you up some tea or something? Did you eat the sandwiches I left up here for you? Would you like something different?”

“I'm FINE.” the Doctor grumped. “Go.”

“All right! No need to bite my head off!” Emily was cheered to see a bit of his usual attitude return. “I think I'm going to start taking down the Christmas tree and stuff. So if you hear me tromping up and down the stairs and a bunch of noise in the attic, that's me!” She waved and left.

Back downstairs Emily pulled some boxes out from behind the couch in the family room where she had hidden them for the holidays, dumped them into the living room next to the Christmas tree and began carefully repacking the decorations in tissue paper. Without the two younger children around to “help” her, the chore went quickly, and soon the tree was empty and ready to be taken out to the trash. Emily make a stack of the boxes at the bottom of the staircase, then went back to the kitchen to boil water for some tea. When it was ready, she carefully set the mug on top of one of the boxes, picked it up and cautiously carried it up the stairs.

“For you,” Emily told the Doctor once she set the box down in his room. She handed the tea to him with a smile and he gave her a grateful smile in return. “I'm going to get t hese boxes put away up in the attic and then go pick up the kids,” she told him as she picked the box up again and started to leave. “I'll stick my head in again before I go.” Emily left so quickly that she didn't see the Doctor's smile disappear as he watched her leave.

Emily put the one box into the storage room by the top of the stairs in the attic and turned back for more. It took her three trips more to get the rest of the decorations up and put away. As she set the last box in the room and shut the door, Emily glanced down the hallway towards the room where the Doctor's ship sat. Idle curiosity sent her down the hallway to the room.

**
Still sitting on the couch, the Doctor swallowed hard and hung his head at the sound of footsteps above his head.

YUM!

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 00:33:11 GMT

My son has a home soccer game tomorrow and I made these to sell at the concession stand. I got this recipe off of the Recipezaar website quite a while back.

Reeses Squares (No-Bake)

1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs
1 lb powered sugar (3 - 3 1/2 cups)
1 1/2 cups of peanut butter
1 cup butter, melted
1 12oz bag of chocolate chips(Milk chocolate or semi-sweet both work great. I actually combined the two once when I didn't have enough of the one flavor)

1. Combine graham cracker crumbs, powdered sugar and peanut butter and mix well.

2. Blend in melted butter until well combined.(I use a mixer. This stuff can be pretty thick.)

3. Press mixture evenly into a 9 x 13 inch pan.

4. Melt chocolate chips in microwave or double boiler.

5. Spread over peanut butter mixture.

6. Chill until just set and cut into bars. (Can be very hard to cut if left in the refrigerator too long.)

Very easy to make and VERY EASY TO EAT!

Dinner Funny

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 01:01:27 GMT

I made a roast chicken for dinner tonight.....a nice, big, fat Perdue Oven-Stuffer.....complete with one of those plastic poultry timers stuck in it. Valentina, our exchange student, had never seen one of those plastic thingys before so I had to explain it to her. She couldn't figure out why I found a ~~turkey timer~~ poultry timer popping out when it was ready to be so funny!

Odd Ramblings

Sun, 13 Sep 2009 01:29:34 GMT

Well, I've finished Chapter 14. Now I have to go through the tiresome ritual of having to send it to myself in an email so I can download it onto our PC that has MS Word on it so I can send it off to be beta'd. All because I am too cheap to buy Word and so use Open Office 'cuz it's free.

With a reliable computer, I am finding more time to write. I write a lot in my car between home visits and with this laptop, I can usually just rely on the battery instead of having to plug it in to old cig. lighter.

I'd have more time to write if I didn't have a garden. Or a job. My free time at home has been largely taken up with paperwork and canning. This month I have to send off my billing to four different agencies. More $ but more $ also = more paperwork! Plus there is always a ton of other nitpicking little crap the government desk jockies like to send my way.

Most of my Brandywine tomatoes have the blight so they won't be good for anything. I have a few San Marzano and a ton of cherry tomatoes coming out my ears but I don't have the time to deal with them because of my peppers. So far with my peppers I have made:

11 big jars of Hungarian Sweet Peppers Stuffed With Saurkraut. (YES! They taste great! I dare you to try one!)

Several pints of Pickled Hot Pepper Rings.

8 pints of Hot Pepper Butter.(REALLY, REALLY GOOD SANDWICH SPREAD)

I still need to make my Rhubard and Hot Pepper Jam.

(Yes. We like hot peppers around this house.)

The druggie mom of a child I work with has succeeded in convincing the pediatrician that her 2 1/2 year-old has ADHD and needs medication.

I need to buy new pants for work. I HATE buying clothes. Especially pants. It is nearly impossible for me to find decent jeans that fit. Not only because I weigh too much but also because I have short legs. Regular lenght is too long but petite is too short for me. Can we say "High Waters" after they shrink in the wash?

My daughter has her first work appearing in an Art Show today. I am very proud of her. That is the highlight of my week!

Back In The Saddle Again....My Version

Fri, 04 Sep 2009 16:34:35 GMT

I finally got Chapter 13 of The Slow Path Home done and sent off to beta. Between my computer woes and work/life, I just have not had the time to do much of anything with it until today. Today I am at home alone and I am spending the whole entire day writing. Housework can go to hell for 24hours!

I can't promise when I can post Chapter 13. aibhinn is getting ready to start back to school and REAL, PAID work must come first! I absolutely concurr with that. As soon as I get it back, I'll post it. I promise.

Almost Up And Running Again.

Mon, 31 Aug 2009 02:04:36 GMT

I got my new laptop yesterday evening and I've spent what time I've had checking it out(playing with it!) and trying to get all my old bookmarks and such set up on it. My plan for this eveing was to get back to writing on Chapter 13 again so I can get it posted but...as I sat down to write, I realized that I have not downloaded Open Office yet so I can work on it unitl I do. (My freebie laptop did not come with MS Word and I am too cheap/poor to buy it.) Open Office is now 95% downloaded but now I am ready for bed!

I like my new laptop. It is pretty and shiny and runs really, really well. It does not make strange grinding noises, give off heatwaves, refuse to start up or shut down on a whim. When I get rid of the ugly, swirly background wallpaper and replace it with something Doctor Who related, it will be perfect.

Another OMG!

Sat, 29 Aug 2009 00:55:57 GMT

OMG! THEY ARE GIVING ME A NEW LAPTOP!! A BRAND SPANKIN' NEW ONE!

It's a Compaq Presario CQ60. Probaby not the best or the fanciest but it sure beats the heck out of my old one, even when it was working correctly. The only drawback is that it will not be ready until tomorrow. They have to get it all booted up and loaded and try to transfer files from my old one. For getting a FREE NEW LAP TOP, I think I can wait a day. Barely...

A $4,000 stander for $70.
A $500 table for $20.
A fairly decent Dell desktop for $100.
A BRAND NEW LAPTOP for FREE!

Today was a great day!

OMG! THEY DROPPED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fri, 28 Aug 2009 17:25:46 GMT

THEY DROPPED IT! THEY DROPPED MY POOR BABY ON ITS HEAD AND BROKE THE FLASH DRIVE!

They have to fix this before they can even try to finish figuring out what is wrong with the rest of it!

I'm just hoping they didn't break anything else when they dropped it!

Laptop-less But Triumphant!

Fri, 28 Aug 2009 16:42:47 GMT

I had to take my laptop into the hospital a couple of days ago. It was just doing more and more bizarre stuff so I took it in to the emergency room as Staples and pleaded with them to figure out what was wrong and to please save my poor baby! As a result, I have not be able to do any more writing since Wednesday. I am hoping I'll get it back today and in some kind of working condition.

On a brighter note.....I went to a yard sale today at a local medical remarketing company. They buy up old, medical equipment from hospitals/doctor's offices that are upgrading to new stuff. I went to it last last year and was able to get some good stuff to use with the kids I see. Today, I hit the jackpot! They had a Tumbleform Stander(helps kids weight bare and learn to stand) and a Tumbleform Tray. Let's see......the Stander sells for around $4,000. I paid $70.00. The table sells for around $500. I paid $20.00. I was so giddy with my purchases that I also took a chance and bought a used Dell computer - tower, keyboard, monitor, mouse and software included - for $100.00

It is really criminal how much rehab equipment for kids cost! And the Medicaid that is supposed to buy this sort of outrageously expensive stuff drags its feet forever over buying this stuff. Parents order this stuff and it can take months for it to go though the system. Often, the kids have outgrown it before it is even delivered to them! I guess the pencil pushers are hoping the kids will die before they actually have to buy it. Now, I can at least offer this stuff as loaners to some of parents if their kid needs it.

PS: I will work as hard as I can to finish Chapter 13 and get it up as soon as possible!

British Queston

Tue, 25 Aug 2009 14:30:38 GMT

Do the British use the term "sucks" ? Meaning something bad or unfortunate as in "It really sucks that you lost your job." or "I think that new song everybody is crazy about really sucks." Would a British person understand the term if an American used it in conversation?

The Slow Path Home, Chapter 12/?

Sat, 22 Aug 2009 16:02:59 GMT

Better late than never....

Title: The Slow Path Home

Author: callme_al01

Fandom: Doctor Who New Series, Written for Tardis BigBang Round 2

Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and not to me. Rats!

Genre/Characters: H/C; Tenth Doctor, OC, Rose, Donna and maybe some others later on.

Rating: PG

Beta: aibhinn , Also many thanks to chocclarefor her invaluable help with British things.

Spoilers: Brief mention of 2009 Easter Special in the first chapter

Warnings: The first chapter is a bit bloody and has some graphic violence. Nothing after the first chapter will be like that.

Summary: "It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone." Rose Kennedy

Chapter 12

It was 6:00 AM, and the alarm blaring on her dresser dragged Emily from sleep. With barely opened eyes, she sat up and scooted down to the foot of the bed where she reached across the small space to turn the godawful thing off. She sat there and blearily contemplated resetting the clock for a half hour later, but quickly rejected the idea. She was taking a chance as it was, sleeping in until six. Right now she only had an hour to do everything she had to do before waking the kids up. She'd never make it in only thirty minutes. Forcing herself up, she grabbed her bathrobe and went down the hall towards the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, she was showered, dressed and downstairs to give Pippin a quick walk. When she returned, she turned on the computer and then went to put the water on for the biggest, hottest, strongest cup of tea she could manage. As the water heated, she went back upstairs to fetch a load of dirty laundry out of the bathroom to run through the machine downstairs. Emily poured the boiling water over the bag in her mug and while it steeped, sorted through a pile of clean laundry for things that she knew the kids would need when they got dressed that morning. With a little over five minutes left before she had to wake the children, Emily finally settled down with her tea in front of the computer, clicked on the Internet and began to scroll through her favorite news sites to see how the New Year had begun.

“New year. Same old, same old.” Emily commented aloud to herself as she flipped from site to site. Fighting, murders, corrupt politicians and a lousy economy; same headlines as yesterday. Noting the time, she gulped down the last of her tea and proceeded up the stairs.

Emily reached the top of the stairs and turned toward the hall that led to the children's bedrooms when she stopped in surprise. Her sleep fogged brain had completely forgotten about the Doctor. Cocking her head, she listened for some sound coming from his bedroom to indicate if he was up and about, but it was dead quiet. Better go check on him before I wake the kids, she decided.

She knocked at his door, not really expecting an answer, and she already had her hand on the doorknob when she heard a pleasant, “Come in.” Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she opened the door.

The Doctor was sitting on the window seat--the same one she had left him sitting on the night before, and in nearly the same position.

“Were you sitting there all night long?” she asked him.

“What? Of course not!” He looked at her with that same, odd sort of smile he had last night. “Fell asleep on the sofa reading last night after you lot went to bed,” he told her as she was about to point out to him that his bed appeared untouched from the night.

“Oh,” Emily replied. “I just wanted to let you know that I'm getting the kids up now, and as soon as I get them going on breakfast, I'll bring yours up.”

“Thank you. No need to hurry. I'm fine.”

The time before church passed in rush of waking, eating and dressing. Emily ran the Doctor's breakfast up at her first opportunity. He'd had his half-shower and shaved and was on the couch reading a book when she came in. “Thank you,” he once again told her with a smile. Emily was in too much of a hurry at that point to give it any thought.

“All right, folks! Head downstairs and get your boots and coats on!” Emily called from his doorway. “STAND IN THE DOOR!”

“Gotta say goodbye to Doctor first!” Sophie and Aiden pushed past their mother into the Doctor's room.

“We're leavin' for church now, Doctor! We'll be back soon!” they called to him from the doorway. “See you later!”

The Doctor raised his hand and waved. “Goodbye, Aiden. Goodbye, Sophie.”

The two left, quickly replaced by Jonathan. “Bye, Doctor. See you after church!”

“Goodbye, Jonathan.”

Once all three kids were downstairs, Emily turned back to him. “You sure you'll be okay on your own? Do you want one of us to stay here?”

The Doctor shook his head emphatically. “I'll be fine. Like you said, it's only a couple of hours and it's just down the street.”

“Okay. I'm off then. I'll bring you something back from coffee hour if there's anything good.”

“Thank you. Goodbye, Emily.”

Emily left, pounding down the stairs to join her children. The Doctor picked his crutches up and moved back to the window seat, this time positioning himself so that he could watch out the window without easily being seen. He heard the front door shut below, and a few seconds later, saw the four of them as they went down the sidewalk towards the church. Shortly after they disappeared from view, the church bells began to ring.

As the bells rang, the Doctor leaned his head against the window frame, shut his eyes and began to count.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, the Doctor opened his eyes. It was time for his song to end. Forever.

The Doctor pulled his crutches to him and stood up. Fifteen minutes, he thought, was long enough to give the family the opportunity to run back and get things they may have forgotten. If no one had come back by now, it wasn't likely that anyone would before church was over. The Doctor smiled. He was alone now for at least a good hour or more, if they stayed for coffee.

He took himself over to the sofa to sit and pulled out his Converse, which he had tucked away underneath there. He was able to slip the right shoe on easily enough; the left one proved to be more difficult. Even with the shoe strings loosened up as much as he could, the pressure needed to push his foot into the trainer set his whole leg screaming with pain. Never mind then, he decided. One shoe was good enough. The Doctor tossed the shoe back down onto the floor before pulling his jacket from the back of the sofa and slipping it on. He stood up on his crutches and fished about in his pockets, pulling out the items he had he set aside previously, and laid them carefully on the bed before going over the bedroom door and pulling it open. “Allons-y,” he whispered and swung his way through the door and down the hall.

Reaching the t-intersection of the halls, the Doctor paused. He had no idea whether to head to the left or right to find the entrance to the attic. He turned left.

The first door he opened led to what appeared to be a guest bedroom, the second led to a bathroom. He passed what he assumed to be Jonathan's bedroom as well as Sophie's and Aiden's room. Finally at the end of the hall, there were two smaller closed doors. The Doctor yanked opened the first one to reveal a narrow staircase leading down. Muttering a curse, he shut it and opened the next. He smiled to see stairs heading upwards.

Getting up those stairs was no easy matter. The walls were not much wider than he was, and he couldn't use his crutches in such narrow confines. He had to hold the two of them together in one hand a step or two ahead of him like a cane while bracing his free hand against the wall as he hopped up one painful step at a time.

The Doctor sat on the top stair, catching his breath. And to think that Emily and Jonathan had managed to carry him unconscious down those treacherous steps! He looked around, trying to get his bearings as to where the TARDIS waited for him. Emily said it was right above the bedroom, so...... He struggled to his feet and started towards his ship.

When he reached the door of the main attic room and caught sight of the TARDIS, the Doctor laughed aloud in joy. This was the longest period of time in centuries that they had been separated, and he couldn't wait to get back to her so that they could go on together to their end. Heedless of the boxes that caught at his crutches and painfully jarred his leg, he hurried as fast as he could towards the TARDIS.

Panting, the Doctor stopped outside of the doors of the TARDIS. Leaning heavily on his crutches, he began to fumble in his jacket pocket for the key. Once he found it, he pulled it out and quickly jammed it into the lock and gave it a turn.

Nothing happened.

He turned the key again.

Nothing happened.

“What!” he exclaimed in annoyance. The key turned, but the door did not open. Perplexed, the Doctor took it out, put it in the lock once again and turned, but still, the door would not open. What was wrong? Did he bend the key in his fall to the floor when he arrived here? He held the key up to his eyes and looked at it carefully. There was nothing he could see that was wrong with it. Nerves, he thought. I'm in such a hurry that I'm making mistakes. That's what go me here in the first place. Slow down. Slowly and carefully, he tried the key for a fourth time and for the fourth time it failed to open the doors.

Frustrated, the Doctor slapped his hand against the TARDIS. He had no idea what was wrong, but it didn't matter; he had more than one way to get inside his ship.

The Doctor stepped back, raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Nothing happened.

The Doctor snapped his fingers again. Then again and again and again. He tried the key again and again and again. The doors to the TARDIS would not open for him.

He rested his head in frustration against the doors. “Oh, old girl! This is no time to be playing games. We need to go before the humans get back.”

No.

The TARDIS had been waiting patiently up in the Klaptetzkys' attic for the past seven days, knowing this time would come sooner or later. She'd done her best to postpone it; soothing her Doctor when his temper began to flare, lulling him into a deep, restful sleep whenever she could. If she could keep him here long enough, she hoped that the care and comfort he was receiving from the family would bring him back from the edge of his despair. It had almost worked. Now he was here at her door, just as wild and heartsick as he had been back on that planet with Bay.

The last five years had been hard on them both. The TARDIS had worked constantly to keep the Doctor safe, yanking him back from the brink of destruction countless times, causing plausible but time-consuming repairs to keep him from danger, and landing a little bit “off” as to time and place to avoid certain situations. She had thought that the last planet was a safe place, a dirty little backwater world where nothing ever happened. Leave it to the Doctor to nearly succeed in killing himself there.

When he had called her to him, back in that nightmarish operating suite on Bay's spaceship, she'd come running, hoping that he had realized the folly of his desire to end himself. Then he'd set the coordinates to Gallifrey and she'd realized he was still hellbent on his own destruction. The TARDIS could not, would not allow him to do it, so in the nanoseconds between the Doctor setting the coordinates and throwing the switch she had searched desperately for a safe place to bring him to. Once she found it, she over-rode his settings and brought him here, to an old house in a small town on Earth.

She had had such hopes for this place. This little human family had been so good for him, refusing to allow him to stay walled off in his misery. Yesterday while he'd played with the children, he'd actually been happy, and a few times the TARDIS had even caught him having thoughts about his future. But the Doctor's fears had come back to him with a vengeance and now....now he was here at the doors expecting her to allow him back so he could complete his journey.

No, she told him.

“What!” the Doctor exclaimed.

No, the TARDIS repeated.

“What do you mean, no? Don't be silly! We're going home.”

No. The TARDIS paused, gathering her courage for the fight that was to come I will not take you to your death.

The Doctor looked at the TARDIS, his mouth open in disbelief. “But....but...we'll be going home! Back to Gallifrey! We'll be going back to be there with them all at the end. Like it should have been!” He tried her door again but she refused to yield. “Don't you understand? It means we can stop! We can go back to be with the ones we love and then we can finally stop!”

I will not take you to your death. the TARDIS repeated firmly.

“You will open this door and take me where I want to go!” the Doctor ordered. She could feel his anger starting. It was only going to become worse but the TARDIS kept on.

Go back downstairs, she begged him. You need to rest and think.

“I don't need to do any more resting or thinking!” the Doctor snapped. He rattled the door handle. “Now open up. We need to go.”

The TARDIS gave up using words, trying instead to flood the Doctor's mind with her love for him and how she had brought him to this place hoping that some rest and care would bring him back to himself. That she would rather die herself than to be the instrument of his death.

The Doctor would have none of it. Once he realized that the TARDIS had purposely brought him here, the TARDIS felt his anger become volcanic. “You,” his whispered, barely able to contain his rage. “You did this to me. You defied me and tricked me.”

The TARDIS begged him to listen to her. I did it for you. I did it to help you, she told him. You're sad and heartsick and you think you want die but I know you don't, not really.

“YOU think! YOU think!” the Doctor exploded. “How DARE you think you know what is best for me! I am a Time Lord. I know what is best and I KNOW THAT IT IS TIME FOR US TO END!”

For a few seconds, there was only the sound of the TARDIS quietly humming.

But what if I don't want to end? the TARDIS asked. You are angry at me for deciding that you should live. You have made the decision for me that I should die.

She felt the Doctor's rage quickly dissipate only to be replaced by shame. He realized he'd gone ahead and made the decision for her, never even considering that she would not agree with his plan. “I....I.....I just assumed.....I mean. I...” the Doctor stammered. “You can't really mean that you would rather us go on, can you? Look at our life right now; how can we stand it any longer?”

Life has been hard, the TARDIS agreed. And we have suffered much; you most of all. But that does not mean that that it will always be that way.

“How can you say that?” the Doctor demanded. “Hundreds of years I've had to live like this! Every bit of happiness, everything that I love always ripped away from me in the end! And you want to sentence me to how many hundreds or thousands more? For once in my miserable life, can't I have what I want?”

This is not what you want; not really, the TARDIS told him.

“No, it's not what you want! If you want to keep on, then go right ahead. But take me to Gallifrey first and leave me. Go on without me, if your life is still worth living, but leave me to my peace!”

Never.

“Listen to me,” he pleaded to the TARDIS. “You know what happened last night! Those children....the whole family....they like me. And I can't let that happen again! I can't!”

Would that truly be so awful? To have others care about you?

“Yes!” the Doctor spat. “It would. Because it never lasts. Something happens, they leave, they forget me, they die......and I go on alone.” He shook his head. “I've had enough.”

Selfish the TARDIS told him.

“Yes! Selfish! And I don't care if for once in nine hundred years I want to be selfish. I want to do what I want for myself and for no one else!” the Doctor said. “I want to go back and die with my people. That's the way it should have happened. If that's selfish, than so be it.”

That is not the truth, the TARDIS told him. The truth is that you are afraid.

The Doctor laughed bitterly. “I'm not afraid to die. It's not like I haven't done it many times before.”

You are afraid to live because you are afraid to love.

“I fear nothing!” the Doctor shouted. “Now let me in and take me away from here!”

The TARDIS was becoming desperate. A TARDIS was born and bred to take the commands of a Time Lord, and her long relationship with the Doctor was making this harder, not easier. A typical Type 40 would never have questioned a Time Lord's destination or even considered the motive behind it, but the TARDIS had never been a typical Type 40, just as the Doctor had never been a typical Time Lord. They had been together for so long and through so much together that she recoiled from the thought of aiding him in anyway to take his life. But his orders, his pleading …...if he kept it up long enough she was afraid that she would give in.

The Doctor kept on, this time taking a different approach. “All right, I was wrong to make the assumption that you would want to come with me, to stay with me at the end. I'll admit that. I would have thought that after all we had been through together that would have been something you wanted, but apparently not. And I'm fine with that, really. But that doesn't mean that I don't have the right to do with myself what I want. It is my body and my life, after all. So if you don't want to stay with me, then the least you could do it take me there. That's all I ask. Is that really so much to ask of you after all this time?”

The TARDIS refused to answer him, just raised the pitch of her humming in an effort to block out his words.

“Come on, old girl!” Help me out here!” A note of desperation was beginning to creep into the Doctor's voice as well. “We're running out of time. They may be back any minute. You know what happened last night. You know I need to be gone from this place before those humans return. Before anything happens to them.”

Ah, the TARDIS said. Now there is some truth.

The Doctor leaned forward on his crutches and rested his head against the TARDIS. “Terrible things happen wherever I go. People get hurt, they die. I can't let that happen to the Klapetzkys or to anyone else,” he whispered. “It's better that I end it. Better for me; better for everyone.”

You make the universe a better place, the TARDIS told him. All the lives you have saved and all the worlds....

The Doctor shook his head. “I'm the Destroyer of Worlds, remember? Davros was right about me.”

How can you believe that? the TARDIS demanded of him. <Davros said that only to hurt you and to justify his own hideous actions!

“It's easy to recognize your own kind.”

If the TARDIS had the ability she would have been weeping now. The Time Lord was center of her existence, and she loved him completely and absolutely; knowing that monster, Davros, had infected him so deeply with his evil lies was almost more than she could bear. She had to turn from this path of self-destruction somehow.

You are nothing like him. You have been and always will be good.

“Good? Good? People have died because of me and people have killed other people in my name. How does that make me good?” the Doctor asked bitterly. Before the TARDIS could reply, he once again reached out and tried the doors. Still shut tight. “Let me in. Time is running short.”

Do you swear to me that you will not make me take you back to Gallifrey? Do you swear to me that you will not try to hurt yourself? the TARDIS asked him.

The Doctor sighed and leaned back on his crutches. “Oh, all right. If you insist. Just let me in and let's be gone.”

The TARDIS felt a thrill of joy at his words and started to send the command that would remove the deadlock from the doors. Then she stopped.

You lie, the TARDIS told him sadly. You still intend to hurt yourself, regardless if I take you to Gallifrey or not.

The Doctor cursed. Then he began to dig in the pockets of his jacket. “You may have deadlocked me out, old girl, but I know some other things I can do with my screwdriver to get you to open up for me.” His digging became more frantic.

It's on the bed, the TARDIS gently reminded him. Downstairs. You were never going to need it again.

Now the TARDIS felt the Doctor's panic truly set in. “Open up and let me in!” he demanded. “You don't have to take me anywhere. You can even lock me in the console room. Just let me in!”

The TARDIS knew that the point had been reached where further arguing and pleading on her part was useless. If he was willing to lie to her, to trick her...there was only one option left to her now.

I refuse to help you take your life, the TARDIS told the Doctor. If your wish is to die, then so be it, but I will not stay here to witness it.

The Doctor looked at her in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

From deep within the TARDIS came the sound of her ancient engines running up.

“NO!” the Doctor shouted. “NO!NO!NO!NO! You can't do this! Stop!”

The grinding and wheezing continued to strengthen and the sound of the Time Rotor starting up began as well. The Doctor's crutches fell to the floor with a clatter as he began to beat both of his fists against the doors. “Don't do this to me, please! Don't leave me! You need me!”

The TARDIS refused to listen to him. She couldn't listen to him because what she was doing was tearing her heart apart. She tried to speed up the dematerialization process as fast as she could because she couldn't bear to hear him crying and pleading to her. Suddenly, the Doctor stopped pounding on the doors and instead, reached out his long arms to grab hold of the corners of the TARDIS. Her clever Doctor, the TARDIS thought sadly. Jack, the immortal one, had survived his trip clinging to the outside of her but not even a Time Lord could survive such a trip. Before she could lose her nerve, the TARDIS sent a bolt of power shooting through him and sent the Doctor flying back to land several feet away against a stack of boxes.

Slowly, the Doctor sat up and watched in horror as the TARDIS began to disappear. “Please. Don't leave me.” he whispered. “Please. I need you.”

I love you, the TARDIS told him. And when you have healed, I will return.