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Fandom: DOCTOR WHO
Title: Saxon and Smith
Series: A Good Old Normal, Human Life (Part Three)
Word Count: Part One: 1,404, Part Two: 1,270, Part Three: 1,237
Summary: What happens after the Doctor leaves Rose and his human counterpart behind on Pete's world?
Character/s: The (Human) Doctor, Harold Saxon, Rose, Tish Jones, Ianto Jones
Pairings: Bit of TenII/Rose, (will mainly be Doctor/Master or Smith/Saxon in future parts)
A/N: Most screen caps from the SonicBiro site, or the power of google-fu
Catch up : PROLOGUE, Welcome to Number Ten, Mr Smith
If the Doctor had been expecting some kind of reaction; a thunderbolt of recognition to cross Saxon’s face, then he would have been sorely disappointed. Luckily he hadn’t been expecting that. Not even a little bit.
Because what he got was a job interview. A boring, bog standard, regular job interview. Until-
“And you say you’re from a parallel universe?” Saxon asked, without looking up from the open file on the table between them.
“That’s right,” The Doctor nodded and waited patiently for Saxon to continue. Because this man did seem to be Harold Saxon, he was a little preoccupied and generally uninterested in anything The Doctor had said so far; but no hint of madness as of yet. However, they were just now getting to the interesting bit.
“And you, how did Miss Tyler put it? Stopped the stars from going out?” he asked, looking up at the Doctor and raised an eyebrow. The Doctor gave him a small and -he hoped- engaging grin.
“I contributed I guess you could say,” he agreed.
“Made their coffee did you?” he asked with a more recognisable hint of the Master’s cruel humour. The Doctor ignored it from Harold Saxon as he would have done from the Master. Saxon sighed and closed the file.
“Why do you think you’d be good at this job?” he asked. “What could you have possibly done or learnt in that parallel universe to make you worthy?” he pointed a finger at the Doctor for a moment before he lowered his hand to the table and looked at the Doctor with genuine curiosity.
“Well, there was the thing with the stars going out, and several other... incidents. There was the time I stopped a giant star shaped cocoon from destroying London, or saved Her Majesty from being killed by the Titanic,” he paused. “I guess you could say I’m well travelled.”
“Right,” Saxon drawled. “Who would you say were the greatest enemy you’ve faced?”
“I-” the Doctor wasn’t sure how to answer. He could easily name the man sitting in front of him, or the man he thought was sitting in front of him. But he didn’t think that would fit quite with what Saxon was asking. “The Daleks I suppose,” he answered after a moment. “No matter how many times you think they’re destroyed they always come back.”
“There are Daleks in your universe?” Saxon asked, leaning as far over the table as he could without actually laying on it.
“Yes, aren’t there here?” he skated over the question of how the Prime Minister would know about the Daleks.
“No, well yes there were but...” he trailed off. “There weren’t really.”
“Well that’s not very clear at all, is it?”
“There was a man, an acquaintance of mine I suppose. He sort of,” Saxon paused and sucked on the inside of his lip for a moment, “undid them. He went back and undid their entire existence after seeing the destruction they caused.”
Well that’s impossible, the Doctor thought, the paradox would tear the entire universe in two. If someone had gone back to unmake the Daleks they’d need the knowledge of the devastation the Daleks would cause in the first place, which would be gone as soon as they went back and stopped the Daleks from coming into being, so they wouldn’t be able to go back and stop them from being made. And round and round it went in the Doctors head until Saxon cleared his throat.
“How do you know all that then?” the Doctor asked eventually.
“I’m well travelled,” Saxon grinned.
“Right,” the Doctor paused. He tapped his fingers on the conference room table. A beat of four. Saxon didn’t seem to notice. The Doctor didn’t know what to think of that; whether it was a good or a bad thing.
“But the thing is. The thing is, if he erased the Daleks, assuming for now that that would even be possible in the manor you described, why do you remember them?” he asked.
Saxon grinned some more. “I like you, you’re smart. Not as smart as me obviously but you could be useful,” he added. “You’ve got the job,” he stood and walked round to the Doctor’s side of the table. “Welcome aboard Mr Smith,” he said and held out his hand.
The Doctor took it and smiled. It was warm, humanly warm; the pulse a rhythm of two. The Doctor’s smile dimmed but he didn’t let it fade entirely.
“It’s an honour Mr Saxon,” he responded.
“’Course it is,” Saxon tsk’d, already headed for the door. “Talk to Latisha, she’ll sort out your contract and find you a desk.”
“Thank you!” the Doctor said. “I look forward to working with you, Mr Saxon!” he called.
Saxon opened the doors but paused at the Doctors words. “Doesn’t everyone?” he threw over his shoulder before he walked down the corridor, past Tish at her desk, round a corner and out of sight.
The Doctor grinned for a moment and bounced on the balls of his feet. When he noticed Tish watching him through the open doors he stopped bouncing but continued grinning as he walked toward her.
“Looks like we’re going to be colleagues Miss Jones,” he said once he was standing in front of her.
“Congratulations,” she smiled up at him. “Means a bit of paperwork for me to do to get you on the system,” she said and glanced between him, the computer and her paper-littered desk.
“Want me to do some photocopying for you?” he asked. Tish laughed.
As it turned out, tradition at number ten involved taking the new guy out and getting him thoroughly drunk. And once Ianto, a stickler for the rules, had spotted him in the print room an outing had been organised and various members of Saxon’s staff invited in less than half an hour.
To begin with the Doctor had paced himself, which had resulted in large amounts of teasing. In the end he had succumbed, regardless of his concerns about the human body’s tolerance for alcohol versus a time lord’s one.
He needed to get onside with these people, to be seen as one of the team. How else would he find out what they knew about Saxon?
But also, he had kind of just wanted them to like him.
By the end of the night even Jason the suspicious security officer, was being nice to him. Evidenced in how he carried the Doctor out to a cab, deposited him into the back seat and buckled his belt.
“You’re going to need to learn how to hold you liquor, Mr Smith,” Ianto said over Jason’s shoulder.
“I’m fine,” the Doctor slurred and waved an arm around to demonstrate his point. Tish giggled.
“Make sure he gets home alright,” Ianto said to the cabby and handed over far too much money to cover the cost of the journey from the pub to Rose’s.
“You’re all wonderful!” the Doctor told them as Jason shut the door. He rolled down the window. “I can’t wait to work with you!”
“Not if that hangover lasts until Monday, Sir!” Ianto called as the cab pulled away.
When he woke up the next morning just inside the front door, with a mouthful of carpet and the sound of Rose stomping around loudly echoing painfully round his skull, the Doctor realised Ianto may have had a point.
xposted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dwfiction and slash_lords
Read Part Four: Enter the Judoon
Title: Saxon and Smith
Series: A Good Old Normal, Human Life (Part Three)
Word Count: Part One: 1,404, Part Two: 1,270, Part Three: 1,237
Summary: What happens after the Doctor leaves Rose and his human counterpart behind on Pete's world?
Character/s: The (Human) Doctor, Harold Saxon, Rose, Tish Jones, Ianto Jones
Pairings: Bit of TenII/Rose, (will mainly be Doctor/Master or Smith/Saxon in future parts)
A/N: Most screen caps from the SonicBiro site, or the power of google-fu
Catch up : PROLOGUE, Welcome to Number Ten, Mr Smith
SAXON AND SMITH
If the Doctor had been expecting some kind of reaction; a thunderbolt of recognition to cross Saxon’s face, then he would have been sorely disappointed. Luckily he hadn’t been expecting that. Not even a little bit.
Because what he got was a job interview. A boring, bog standard, regular job interview. Until-
“And you say you’re from a parallel universe?” Saxon asked, without looking up from the open file on the table between them.
“That’s right,” The Doctor nodded and waited patiently for Saxon to continue. Because this man did seem to be Harold Saxon, he was a little preoccupied and generally uninterested in anything The Doctor had said so far; but no hint of madness as of yet. However, they were just now getting to the interesting bit.
“And you, how did Miss Tyler put it? Stopped the stars from going out?” he asked, looking up at the Doctor and raised an eyebrow. The Doctor gave him a small and -he hoped- engaging grin.
“I contributed I guess you could say,” he agreed.
“Made their coffee did you?” he asked with a more recognisable hint of the Master’s cruel humour. The Doctor ignored it from Harold Saxon as he would have done from the Master. Saxon sighed and closed the file.
“Why do you think you’d be good at this job?” he asked. “What could you have possibly done or learnt in that parallel universe to make you worthy?” he pointed a finger at the Doctor for a moment before he lowered his hand to the table and looked at the Doctor with genuine curiosity.
“Well, there was the thing with the stars going out, and several other... incidents. There was the time I stopped a giant star shaped cocoon from destroying London, or saved Her Majesty from being killed by the Titanic,” he paused. “I guess you could say I’m well travelled.”
“Right,” Saxon drawled. “Who would you say were the greatest enemy you’ve faced?”
“I-” the Doctor wasn’t sure how to answer. He could easily name the man sitting in front of him, or the man he thought was sitting in front of him. But he didn’t think that would fit quite with what Saxon was asking. “The Daleks I suppose,” he answered after a moment. “No matter how many times you think they’re destroyed they always come back.”
“There are Daleks in your universe?” Saxon asked, leaning as far over the table as he could without actually laying on it.
“Yes, aren’t there here?” he skated over the question of how the Prime Minister would know about the Daleks.
“No, well yes there were but...” he trailed off. “There weren’t really.”
“Well that’s not very clear at all, is it?”
“There was a man, an acquaintance of mine I suppose. He sort of,” Saxon paused and sucked on the inside of his lip for a moment, “undid them. He went back and undid their entire existence after seeing the destruction they caused.”
Well that’s impossible, the Doctor thought, the paradox would tear the entire universe in two. If someone had gone back to unmake the Daleks they’d need the knowledge of the devastation the Daleks would cause in the first place, which would be gone as soon as they went back and stopped the Daleks from coming into being, so they wouldn’t be able to go back and stop them from being made. And round and round it went in the Doctors head until Saxon cleared his throat.
“How do you know all that then?” the Doctor asked eventually.
“I’m well travelled,” Saxon grinned.
“Right,” the Doctor paused. He tapped his fingers on the conference room table. A beat of four. Saxon didn’t seem to notice. The Doctor didn’t know what to think of that; whether it was a good or a bad thing.
“But the thing is. The thing is, if he erased the Daleks, assuming for now that that would even be possible in the manor you described, why do you remember them?” he asked.
Saxon grinned some more. “I like you, you’re smart. Not as smart as me obviously but you could be useful,” he added. “You’ve got the job,” he stood and walked round to the Doctor’s side of the table. “Welcome aboard Mr Smith,” he said and held out his hand.
The Doctor took it and smiled. It was warm, humanly warm; the pulse a rhythm of two. The Doctor’s smile dimmed but he didn’t let it fade entirely.
“It’s an honour Mr Saxon,” he responded.
“’Course it is,” Saxon tsk’d, already headed for the door. “Talk to Latisha, she’ll sort out your contract and find you a desk.”
“Thank you!” the Doctor said. “I look forward to working with you, Mr Saxon!” he called.
Saxon opened the doors but paused at the Doctors words. “Doesn’t everyone?” he threw over his shoulder before he walked down the corridor, past Tish at her desk, round a corner and out of sight.
The Doctor grinned for a moment and bounced on the balls of his feet. When he noticed Tish watching him through the open doors he stopped bouncing but continued grinning as he walked toward her.
“Looks like we’re going to be colleagues Miss Jones,” he said once he was standing in front of her.
“Congratulations,” she smiled up at him. “Means a bit of paperwork for me to do to get you on the system,” she said and glanced between him, the computer and her paper-littered desk.
“Want me to do some photocopying for you?” he asked. Tish laughed.
***
As it turned out, tradition at number ten involved taking the new guy out and getting him thoroughly drunk. And once Ianto, a stickler for the rules, had spotted him in the print room an outing had been organised and various members of Saxon’s staff invited in less than half an hour.
To begin with the Doctor had paced himself, which had resulted in large amounts of teasing. In the end he had succumbed, regardless of his concerns about the human body’s tolerance for alcohol versus a time lord’s one.
He needed to get onside with these people, to be seen as one of the team. How else would he find out what they knew about Saxon?
But also, he had kind of just wanted them to like him.
By the end of the night even Jason the suspicious security officer, was being nice to him. Evidenced in how he carried the Doctor out to a cab, deposited him into the back seat and buckled his belt.
“You’re going to need to learn how to hold you liquor, Mr Smith,” Ianto said over Jason’s shoulder.
“I’m fine,” the Doctor slurred and waved an arm around to demonstrate his point. Tish giggled.
“Make sure he gets home alright,” Ianto said to the cabby and handed over far too much money to cover the cost of the journey from the pub to Rose’s.
“You’re all wonderful!” the Doctor told them as Jason shut the door. He rolled down the window. “I can’t wait to work with you!”
“Not if that hangover lasts until Monday, Sir!” Ianto called as the cab pulled away.
When he woke up the next morning just inside the front door, with a mouthful of carpet and the sound of Rose stomping around loudly echoing painfully round his skull, the Doctor realised Ianto may have had a point.
xposted to
dwfiction and slash_lords Read Part Four: Enter the Judoon