dolevalan: (firefly)
[personal profile] dolevalan
Title: Nothing in the 'Verse
Fandom/original: Doctor Who/Firefly
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Martha Jones, Kaylee Frye
Rating: G
A/N: Meant to be complete in itself, but I think it may be continued at some point in the future. No spoilers for anything, to my knowledge; an A.U. set sometime during Season Three of Doctor Who and pre-series for Firefly.



Martha blinked at the bright sun as she emerged from the TARDIS, almost immediately stripping off her jacket. “It’s bloody hot, wherever we are. Where are we, then?”

“Little planet called… let’s see, at this point, I think we’re on New Callisto? They keep changing the name every couple decades.” The doctor was in suit, coat, and trainers as always, and looked as if he couldn’t be more comfortable. But then, he was still inside the notably cooler TARDIS, peering at the controls with an absent frown.

“What is it, Doctor?”

“Oh nothing. Well, nothing serious. Nothing really serious, at least.”

“Doctor…”

“Hm?” He glanced up. “Right. Well, um, to be more direct about it than not, a part of the console is broken. A little. But, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why?” Martha asked. “Do we not need it?”

“Oh, no, we absolutely do. But this is a pretty advanced sort of place, and we’re in the right era for it. I can find something to fix it with. Weeeelll… something that’ll do, at least.” He grinned, putting his hands in his pockets. “So, yeah, let’s go, allons-y. Lovely little planet, New Callisto. Very… warm.”

“The TARDIS is broken?”

“A little. She’ll be fine.”

Martha looked skeptical, “Doctor… shouldn’t we be a bit more worried about this?”

“Nah, come on.” He ushered her out into the sunshine. “Beautiful day, beautiful planet. We’ll pop in, have a look about town, and be off again before you know it. Nice and easy, just for once.”

“Uhuh.” Martha didn’t sound convinced. “…that town?” she added, as they came over a ridge.

The collection of houses and shacks below was perhaps one of the least impressive things she had ever seen. They were all the color of dried mud, and the machines that she could see, while more advanced than her own era’s technology, seemed worn down and rusted more often than not. The people were often the same color as the houses, though under the grit, there were flashes of brighter colors attempting to peek through.

“Don’t be such a snob, Martha.” The Doctor seemed positively delighted with the place. “Human beings scrabbling to make homes for themselves wherever they can, even out here on the edge of a system. Digging in and not letting them go. It’s fascinating stuff.”

“Does the fascinating stuff have air conditioning?” she grumbled, but smiled a little at his enthusiasm. It was hard to be too terribly worried when the Doctor was in such a good mood. It always pleased her, seeing him so at ease with himself.

“Well…that looks to be a tavern, there. It’s more likely to be cool than anywhere else, I should think.”

“Yes, please.” She all but dragged him inside. It was cooler, though mostly cooled with fans, it seemed, and being out of the direct sun. It wasn’t crowded, a few scattered patrons slowly nursing condensation-coated drinks. They got a few looks, wary, mainly.

The bartender, leaned in as they approached. “Look, sir, beggin’ your pardon, but we don’t truck with no politics here. You wanna take the coat off?” His tone was polite, almost apologetic, but distrusting too.

The Doctor tilted his head, but then shrugs and took it off. “Hot anyway. Should I take the jacket off as well?”

This reaction seemed to utterly surprise the man. But he said “Noo…o. That’ll be fine, sir, thanks. What can I get you two?”

“House specialty for each, thanks,” the Doctor said with his usual cheeky grin. Martha sighed, but nodded.

“Right then, gentleman and lady, comin’ up.”

Martha sat and looked about the bar. One thing she’d give the Doctor; no two places they went were the same. No aliens here, that she could see, anyway. Pleasant change, that. The bartender presented them with something that resembled beer, in that it was cold and mildly hoppy. And it was blessedly cold.

“Don’t get many visitors, out here,” the bartender offered a few minutes later, as though he was expected to make conversation.

“No, no I don’t imagine. Nice place, though. Good drinks.” He gave a sheepish smile and he had, just like that, slipped into a persona. It wasn’t a lie, really, but Martha hid a grin. The hapless tourist. “Actually, I’m afraid we’re having just a spot of engine trouble. You wouldn’t happen to have a mechanic laying about?”

“Ah, you broke down on the right rock.” He smiled a little. “You’ll be wantin’ the Frye place. Edge of town, surrounded by scrap of all sorts. Can’t miss it.”

The Doctor grinned. “Frye place. Thanks much.” He turned to Martha. “Do you want to wait in here, since the sun bothers your delicate constitution?”

“You’re not going to bait me to standing in the sun while you haggle with a mechanic, Doctor.” She grinned back and took a drink.

“No sense of adventure, Jones. There might be horrible aliens involved.” His good humor was undaunted. “Try not to get blown up while I’m gone.”

--


The Frye place was, as promised, scattered with debris, in various states of disrepair. The Doctor pulled out his spectacles to take a closer look at one particularly intriguing part; it wasn’t the one he needed, but interesting nonetheless.

“Not done yet. The converter ain’t.” He looked up at the girl who’d appeared in the doorway. Younger than Martha, maybe even younger than Rose had been when they’d first met. She was wearing coveralls, and had a smudge of grease on her cheek. “She’ll be fine though, when I get a chance to work on her proper.”

“Did you do this?” The Doctor peered at her over the rims of his glasses.

“Yes sir, most of those you’re near. My pa did one or two over there, and some of the bigger stuff out back.”

“This is very good work,” he said, sounding more surprised than openly complimentary.

“That’s what they tell me.” She offered a grubby hand. “I’m Kaylee.”

“The Doctor.” He returned the handshake. “Are you going to realign it, or just rewire the loose connections?”

“Neither. See here, it’s been forced backwards, someone treating it wrong, then wired back over. Pull out the wires, turn it backside front, hook it up again. Should be fine enough.”

“Oh! Oh I see.” He grins. “Very good indeed! It would have taken me hours to see that – it’s subtle.”

Kaylee rubbed the back of her neck. “Just takes some payin’ attention, is all. What is it I can help you with, Doctor?”

“I need… I wonder if you might take a look at my ship.”

She put a hand to her hip, nodding. “Oh, yes sir. What kind is she? I’ve seen a bit of everything, out here.”

“Oh, Kaylee Frye. Not this you haven’t.”

She beamed, big and bright and sunny. “Well, let’s see her then.”

--

Martha, after finishing her beer and a second for good measure, was bored. None of the farmers trusted her enough to talk, and the bartender seemed to have filled his obligation as far as conversation went. And as trips with the Doctor went, this was almost eerily mundane. Something was sure to pop out and go boo soon enough.

But meanwhile, she might as well go back to the TARDIS. It might be broken, but at least it was cooler than the tavern.

His long brown coat slung over one arm (of course he’d forgotten it), she opened the TARDIS with the other. And stopped as she hear a laugh. A very un-Doctor, female laugh. None of the thoughts that jumped in to her head made sense, and very few of them were pleasant, so she summarily and crossly dismissed all of them.

“…hello?”

“Oh! Martha!” The Doctor popped his head up from the deck. “I think we’re nearly fixed?”

“Nearly,” the voice agreed from beneath him. Below him, Martha mentally corrected. No better. Bugger. “She wasn’t really busted so much as tired. Just needed a rest and a refresher, see?”

“…the mechanic, Doctor?” Martha asked.

“Yes, of course. Who else?” He pulled himself up. “She’s a wonder, Martha. Martha Jones, Kaylee Frye. Kaylee, Martha Jones.”

A moment later, Kaylee appeared, smiling, and offered a hand, which Martha reached down to take. She couldn’t help noticing that despite being greasy and a bit gawky still, she was much younger and prettier than Martha would have entirely preferred. However, she took comfort in the fact that these facts were more than likely totally lost on the Doctor.

“She fixed the TARDIS! How fantastic is that? Usually I’m the only one who can fix the TARDIS.”

Kaylee rolled her eyes with a smile, and said to Martha, “You’re lucky the ship loves him as much as he loves himself.” Martha actually smiled at that, and Kaylee slipped back below.

“How much longer before we’re underway, then?” Martha asked the Doctor.

“Well…” He ran a hand through his hair with no discernable effect. “Soon? Now? Not too long from now? Kaylee?”

She called up, “I’ll be done in another five, maybe ten, Doctor.”

“I asked her if she’d come with, Martha.” He grinned, as if he’d just given her a present.

“...what now?”

“So she can keep fixing it! And we’ll all be mates, and have a fantastic time. Real stroke of luck, landing here.” He looked utterly pleased with himself.

Kaylee called up, “Finished, Doctor!”

Martha tried to think of something to say. Doubtless it would come to her several days later.

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Estelle

January 2012

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