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[fuckofffuckofffuckoffloveme]

Runaway - Part Thirteen

~Masterlist~

Concept: Hazel Richards is a twenty-year-old woman living in London. When she meets a mysterious time-travelling alien known only as the Hunter, she’s thrust into a world of wonder she could only have imagined.

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

It wasn't until the patients were almost within touching distance that the Hunter had the idea. "Go to your room," she ordered, trying to sound angry rather than scared. The patients stood still, and she smiled victoriously. "Go to your room. I mean it. I'm very, very angry with you. I am very, very cross. Go to your room!" The patients hung their head and shuffled back to their beds.

"Wow," Hazel muttered.

"I'm really glad that worked," the Hunter admitted, sighing in relief. "Those would have been terrible last words."

Hazel snorted. "Why are they all wearing gas masks?"

"They're not," Jack told her. "Those masks are flesh and bone." She made a face.

"How was your con supposed to work?" the Hunter asked curiously.

"Simple enough, really," Jack stated. "Find some harmless piece of space junk, let the nearest Time Agent track it back to Earth, convince him it's valuable, name a price. When he's put fifty percent up front, oops! A German bomb falls on it, destroys it forever. He never gets to see what he's paid for, never knows he's been had. I buy him a drink with his own money, and we discuss dumb luck. The perfect self-cleaning con."

The Hunter raised an eyebrow cynically. "Yeah. Perfect."

"The London Blitz is great for self-cleaners," Jack nodded. "Pompeii's nice if you want to make a vacation of it, but you've got to set your alarm for volcano day." He winced, seeing the Hunter's narrowed eyes. "Getting a hint of disapproval, Queenie."

"Take a look around the room," the Hunter suggested. "This is what your harmless piece of space-junk did."

"It was a burnt-out medical transporter," Jack protested. "It was empty."

"Hazel." The Hunter beckoned her over from where she was looking at the gas masks with a mixture of disgust and curiosity.

"Are we getting out of here?" she asked.

"We're going upstairs," the Hunter told her, smirking.

"I even programmed the flight computer so it wouldn't land on anything living," Jack continued. "I harmed no one. I don't know what's happening here, but believe me, I had nothing to do with it."

"I'll tell you what's happening," the Hunter scoffed. "You forgot to set your alarm clock. It's volcano day."

A siren sounded, making Hazel jumped. "What's that?"

"The all clear," Jack answered. He'd been here long enough to recognise it by ear.

"I wish," the Hunter muttered, heading for the stairs.

***

Later, Jack and Hazel were running along a corridor trying to find the Hunter after she'd pulled a vanishing trick.

"Queenie?" Jack called, smirking.

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Artie?"

The Hunter poked her head down from the next floor. "Have you got a blaster?"

"Sure," Jack nodded, and they ran up to her.

"The night your space-junk landed, someone was hurt," the Hunter explained. "This was where they were taken."

"What happened?" Hazel asked.

The Hunter shrugged. "Let's find out. Get it open."

Hazel frowned. "What's wrong with your sonic screwdriver?"

"Nothing," the Hunter said, not meeting her eyes. Hazel smirked. Did the Hunter actually like Jack? The lock swiftly disintegrated as Jack used his blaster on it, and the Hunter smiled, recognising it. "Sonic blaster, fifty first century. Weapon factories of Villengard?"

"You've been to the factories?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Once," she admitted.

"Well, they're gone now, destroyed," Jack told her. "The main reactor went critical. Vaporised the lot."

The Hunter smirked. "Like I said, once. There's a banana grove there now. I like bananas. Bananas are good."

"Nice blast pattern," Hazel complimented as the Hunter went inside the room.

"Digital," he told her.

"Squareness gun?" she guessed.

"Yeah."

She smiled. "I like it."

They followed the Hunter into a messy room with a broken observation window and electronic equipment.

"What do you think?" the Hunter asked, glancing up as they entered.

Jack whistled. "Something got out of here."

"Yeah. And?"

"Something powerful. Angry."

"Powerful and angry," the Hunter nodded.

Jack crouched, seeing a child's crayon drawings scattered across the floor, as well as a teddy bear in the corner. "A child? I suppose this explains 'Mummy'."

"How could a child do this?" Hazel frowned, looking around at the destruction that had been wreaked on the room.

The Hunter turned on a tape machine, one of the only things left undamaged.

"Do you know where you are?" Dr Constantine asked on the recording.

"Are you my mummy?"

"Are you aware of what's around you? Can you see?"

"Are you my mummy?"

"What do you want? Do you know -?"

"I want my mummy. Are you my mummy? I want my mummy! Are you my mummy? Are you my mummy? Mummy? Mummy?"

"Artie, I've heard this voice before," Hazel frowned, remembering the child she'd tried to rescue from the roof, wearing a gas mask on his face.

"Me too," the Hunter nodded.

"Mummy?"

"Always 'are you my mummy?', like he doesn't know," Hazel noticed.

"Mummy?"

"Why doesn't he know?"

"Are you there, mummy? Mummy? Mummy? Please, mummy? Mummy?"

"Artie?" Hazel asked, seeing the woman had her metal hand outstretched towards the wall, not quite touching it.

"Can you sense it?" she asked.

"Sense what?" Jack narrowed his eyes.

"Coming out of the walls. Can you feel it?" she wondered.

"Mummy?"

She snorted. "Funny little human brains. How do you get around in those things?"

Hazel rolled her eyes. "When she's stressed, she likes to insult species," she told Jack.

"Haze, I'm thinking."

"Seriously, it's her favourite thing."

"There are these children living rough around the bomb sites," the Hunter began. "They come out during air raids looking for food."

"Mummy, please?"

"Suppose they were there when this thing, whatever it was, landed?"

Jack sighed. This again? "It was a med-ship. It was harmless."

"Yes, you keep saying harmless," the Hunter noticed. "Suppose one of them was affected, altered?"

"Altered how?" Hazel asked.

"I'm here."

The Hunter closed her eyes, cursing herself for not realising sooner. "It's afraid. Terribly afraid and powerful. It doesn't know it yet, but it will do. It's got the power of a god, and I just sent it to its room."

"Artie," Hazel frowned.

"I'm here. Can't you see me?"

"What's that noise?"

"End of the tape," the Hunter replied. "It ran out about thirty seconds ago."

"I'm here, now. Can't you see me?"

"I sent it to its room. This is its room," she explained.

The child stepped into the doorway. "Are you my mummy? Mummy?"

"Artie?" Hazel had frozen, watching the child.

"Okay, Jules, Queenie, on my signal make for the door," Jack ordered.

"Don't call me that," the Hunter muttered.

"Mummy?"

"Now!" Jack pointed... a banana?... at the child.

"Mummy?"

Grinning, the Hunter used Jack's blaster to make a square hole in the wall. "Go, now! Don't drop the banana!"

"Why not?!" Jack demanded, his eyes wide as they escaped through the wall.

"Good source of potassium?" the Hunter shrugged.

He rolled his eyes. "Give me that!" He used the blaster to repair the hole in the wall, then handed the banana back. "Digital rewind. Nice switch."

"It's from the groves of Villengard. I thought it was appropriate," the Hunter explained.

Jack blinked. "There's really a banana grove in the heart of Villengard and you did that?"

The Hunter shrugged again, grinning. "What? Bananas are good."

"Artie!" Hazel cried, seeing the wall starting to crack.

"Come on!" The Hunter started leading them down the corridor, only to find patients coming at them from both directions.

"Mummy. Mummy. Mummy."

She swore. "It's keeping us here till it can get at us."

"It's controlling them?" Jack asked.

"It is them," the Hunter corrected. "It's every living thing in this hospital except us."

"Okay," Jack lifted his sonic blaster. "This can function as a sonic blaster, a sonic cannon, and as a triple-enfolded sonic disrupter. Queenie, what you got?"

"I've got a sonic screwdriver," she replied.

"A sonic screwdriver?" Jack turned to her incredulously, for a moment forgetting the patients all around them.

"Yes, a sonic screwdriver!"

The child broke through the wall, and Hazel grabbed Jack's hand, forcing the blaster to aim at the floor. "Going down!" she called, firing, and the floor disappeared beneath them, sending them falling through to the ward below. Jack immediately got up and repaired the ceiling. "Artie, you okay?" Hazel checked.

She groaned. "Could've used a warning."

Hazel shrugged. "I said 'going down'."

"Well, you know, usually I have a bit longer than a split-second to prepare before falling through the ceiling," the Hunter told her, rolling her eyes.

"Who has a sonic screwdriver?" Jack frowned as Hazel went to the wall to try and find a light switch.

"I do," the Hunter said indignantly.

"Who looks at a screwdriver and thinks, ooh, this could be a little more sonic?" Jack scoffed.

"There's got to be a light switch," Hazel muttered, ignoring them.

The Hunter snorted. "What, you've never been bored? Never had a long night? Never had a lot of cabinets to put up? Have you ever even been to Ikea? You can't just use a normal screwdriver for those bloody things!" She cut off as Hazel switched the lights on, making the patients sit up in their beds.

"Mummy. Mummy."

"Door," Jack muttered, trying to unlock it with his blaster, but it didn't work. "Damn it!"

"Mummy."

"It's the special features," Jack complained as the Hunter - very smugly - used her sonic screwdriver to get them through the door and into a storeroom. "They really drain the battery."

"The battery?" Hazel frowned. "That's so lame!"

"I was going to send for another one, but somebody's got to blow up the factory," Jack stated pointedly. The Hunter rolled her eyes as she locked the door.

"Oh, I know," Hazel agreed, grinning. "First day I met her, she blew up a department store! It's practically how she communicates."

"Okay, that door should hold it for a bit," the Hunter decided.

"The door?" Jack echoed. "The wall didn't stop it!"

"Well, it's got to find us first," she reminded him. "Come on, we're not done yet! Assets, assets!"

"Well, I've got a banana, and in a pinch you could put up some shelves," Jack told her sarcastically.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Window?"

"Barred. Sheer drop outside. Seven stories," he reported.

"And no other exits," Hazel added.

Jack laughed humourlessly. "Well, the assets conversation went in a flash, didn't it?"

The Hunter sat on the window ledge. "So, where'd you pick this one up, then?"

"Artie!" Hazel whined.

Jack smirked. "She was hanging from a barrage balloon, I had an invisible spaceship. I never stood a chance."

"Okay," she nodded, putting out her hand to count off her fingers. "One, we've got to get out of here. Two, we can't get out of here. Have I missed anything?"

"Yeah," Hazel nodded. "Jack just disappeared." The Hunter sighed. "Okay, so he's vanished into thin air. Why is it always the fit ones who do that?"

"I'm making an effort not to be insulted over here," the Hunter mentioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, men," Hazel clarified.

The Hunter smiled. "That's better."

The radio crackled into life. "Jules? Queenie? Can you hear me? I'm back on my ship." It was Jack's slightly sheepish voice. "Used the emergency teleport. Sorry I couldn't take you, it's security-keyed to my molecular structure. I'm working on it. Hang in there."

"How're you speaking to us?" the Hunter asked, curious.

"Om-Com," Jack replied. "I can call anything with a speaker grill."

"Now there's a coincidence," the Hunter realised.

"What is?" Jack asked.

"The child can Om-Com, too," she told him.

Hazel blinked. "He can?"

The Hunter nodded. "Anything with a speaker grill. Even the TARDIS phone."

"What, you mean the child can phone us?" Hazel frowned. That was kind of creepy.

"And I can hear you," the child's voice sang. "Coming to find you. Coming to find you."

"Queenie, can you hear that?" Jack asked.

"Loud and clear," the Hunter replied.

"I'll try to block out the signal. Least I can do," he offered.

"Coming to find you, mummy."

"Remember this one, Jules?" Moonlight Serenade came on through the radio.

Hazel rolled her eyes at the Hunter's curious look. "Our song."

***

A while later, Hazel had found herself a wheelchair to relax in while watching as the Hunter soniced the barred window. "What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

"Trying to set up a resonation pattern in the concrete," the Hunter answered, not looking round, "loosen the bars."

"You don't think he's coming back, do you?" Hazel guessed.

"Wouldn't bet my life," the Hunter admitted.

Hazel frowned. "Why don't you trust him?"

"Why do you?" the Hunter countered.

"He saved my life," Hazel pointed out. "That's pretty persuasive. I trust him because he's like you. Except with dating and dancing." The Hunter looked at her oddly. "What?"

"You just assume I -" She cut herself off, shaking her head.

"What?" Hazel asked.

"You just assume that I don't dance," the Hunter shrugged.

Hazel blinked. "What, you're telling me you do dance?"

"Nine hundred years old, me," the Hunter pointed out. "I've been around a bit. I think you can assume at some point I've danced."

"You?"

"Problem?"

Hazel smirked. "Doesn't the universe implode or something if you dance?"

The Hunter snorted. "Well, I wouldn't want to boast."

"You can dance? Dance with me," Hazel challenged, turning up the radio so that Moonlight Serenade filled the room.

The Hunter smiled a little, shaking her head. "Haze, I'm trying to resonate concrete."

"Jack'll be back. He'll get us out. So come on." Hazel held out her hands. "The world doesn't end because the Hunter dances." She smiled victoriously as the Hunter put her sonic away and climbed off the table, taking her hands.

"Barrage balloon?" the Time Lady frowned.

"What?" Hazel blinked.

"You were hanging from a barrage balloon."

"Oh, yeah," she said, like it was no big deal. "About two minutes after you left me. Thousands of feet above London, middle of a German air raid, Union Flag all over my chest."

The Hunter smirked. "I've travelled with a lot of people, but you're setting new records for jeopardy friendly."

"Is this you dancing?" Hazel teased. "Because I've got notes."

"Hanging from a rope thousands of feet above London," the Hunter mused, brushing her thumbs across Hazel's palms. "Not a cut, not a bruise."

"Yeah, I know. Captain Jack fixed me up," Hazel shrugged.

The Hunter raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Oh, we're calling him Captain Jack now, are we?"

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Well, his name's Jack and he's a Captain."

"He's not really a Captain, Haze."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure you're not actually working for the Ministry of Asteroids but there we go," Hazel shot back, grinning. "Do you know what I think? I think you're experiencing Captain Envy. You'll find your feet at the end of your legs. You may care to move them."

The Hunter sighed, smiling. "If ever he was a Captain, he's been defrocked."

"Yeah? Wouldn't have minded seeing that," Hazel stated, then laughed at the Hunter's expression.

"Actually, I quit," Jack cut in. "Nobody takes my frock." He smirked as the girls looked around, surprised. "Most people noticed when they've been teleported. You guys are so sweet. Sorry about the delay. I had to take the nav-com offline to override the teleport security."

The Hunter raised her eyebrows, dropping Hazel's hands to look around the ship. "You can spend ten minutes overriding your own protocols? Maybe you should remember whose ship it is."

"Oh, I do," Jack promised. "She was gorgeous. Like I told her, be back in five minutes."

"This is a Chula ship," the Hunter identified.

"Yeah, just like that medical transporter," Jack nodded as he was leaving the room. "Only this one is dangerous."

Hazel watched as the Hunter snapped her fingers, making a familiar golden glow envelop her hands. "They're what fixed my hands up. Jack called them... er..."

"Nanobots?" the Hunter guessed. "Nanogenes?"

"Nanogenes, yeah," Hazel agreed.

"Sub-atomic robots," the Hunter nodded. "There's millions of them in here, see? Burned my hand on the console when we landed. All better now. They activate when the bulk head's sealed. Check you out for damage, fix any physical flaws." She looked at Jack as he returned. "Take us to crash site. I need to see your space junk."

"Kinky," Hazel muttered.

"As soon as I get the nav-con back online," Jack nodded. "Make yourself comfortable." He smirked. "Carry on with whatever it was you were doing."

"We were talking about dancing," the Hunter told him, rolling her eyes.

"It didn't look like talking," Jack raised his eyebrows.

"It didn't feel like dancing," Hazel countered. They high-fived. The Hunter went off exploring the ship, muttering to herself about 'cheeky humans'. "So, you used to be a Time Agent, now you're trying to con them?"

"If it makes me sound any better, it's not for the money," Jack told her.

She settled into the co-pilot seat. "What for, then?"

Jack shrugged. "Woke up one day when I was still working for them, found they'd stolen two years of my memories. I'd like them back."

"They stole your memories?" Hazel echoed, her eyes wide.

"Two years of my life," Jack confirmed. "No idea what I did. Your friend doesn't trust me, and for all I know, she's right not to." He looked up as the Hunter entered, looking bored. "Okay, we're good to go. Crash site?"

***

"There it is," Jack pointed as they stood at the top of a hill overlooking the crash site. "Hey, they've got Algy on duty. It must be important."

"We've got to get past him," the Hunter muttered.

Hazel smirked. "Are the words 'distract the guard' heading in my general direction?"

"I don't think that'd be such a good idea," Jack stated.

"He doesn't have to be my type for me to flirt with him," Hazel pointed out. "There are too many straight people movies for me to not know how."

"I've got to know Algy quite well since I've been in town," Jack smirked. "Trust me, you're not his type either. I'll distract him. Don't wait up." He started off down the hill, Hazel watching him go.

"Relax," the Hunter smiled. "He's a fifty first century guy. He's just a bit more flexible when it comes to dancing."

"How flexible?" Hazel asked curiously.

"Well, by his time, you lot have spread out across half the galaxy," the Hunter informed her.

"Meaning?"

She smirked. "So many species, so little time."

"What, that's what we do when we get out there?" Hazel snorted. "That's our mission? We seek new life, and - and..."

"Dance," the Hunter finished simply, grinning.

***

"Hey, tiger," Jack greeted, jogging up to Algy. "How's it hanging?"

"Mummy?"

Jack blinked. "Algy, old sport, it's me."

"Mummy?"

"It's me, Jack."

"Jack? Are you my mummy?" Algy started to retch, falling to his knees as his face morphed into a gas mask.

The Hunter and Hazel ran forwards from where they'd been hiding. "Stay back!"

"You men, stay away!" Jack ordered, his familiarity with the soldiers giving him authority.

"The effect's become air-borne, accelerating," the Hunter realised, glancing up as the air raid siren started up.

"What's keeping us safe?" Hazel asked.

The Hunter shared a glance with her. "Nothing."

"Here they come again," Jack muttered, seeing the German planes approaching in the distance.

"All we need," Hazel sighed, then frowned. "Didn't you say a bomb was going to land here?"

"Never mind about that," the Hunter shook her head, her eyes wide. "If the contaminant's airborne now, there's hours left."

"For what?" Jack asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Till nothing, forever. For the entire human race," she replied, then stopped short, blinking. "Can anyone else hear singing?" They followed the sound to a shed in which a soldier was slumped across a table with a gas mask face, Nancy sitting hand-cuffed to the same table, shakily singing a lullaby to keep the soldier asleep. The Hunter sneaked in and unlocked the handcuffs, bringing Nancy out with her.

***

"You see?" Jack said smugly as they lit up and uncovered the spacecraft later. "Just an ambulance."

"That's an ambulance?" Nancy asked, her eyes wide.

"It's hard to explain," Hazel bit her lip. "It's from another world."

"They've been trying to get in," Jack frowned, eyeing the obvious signs of attempted forced entry.

"Of course they have," the Hunter scoffed. "They think they've got their hands on Hitler's latest secret weapon." She frowned. "What're you doing?"

Jack looked up from the keypad. "The sooner you see this thing is empty, the sooner you'll know I had nothing to do with it." There was a loud bang, the access panel flashed red and sparked, and an alarm started up. "Didn't happen last time."

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "It hadn't crashed last time. There'll be emergency protocols."

"Artie, what is that?" Hazel asked, hearing a clanging. Then she saw the gas masked patients battering at the hospital doors. "Artie!"

"Captain, secure those gates!" the Hunter ordered.

"Why?"

"Why'd you think?!" He ran off, and she turned to the girl. "Nancy, how'd you get in here?"

"I cut the wire," Nancy replied.

"Show Hazel. Setting two thousand four hundred and twenty eight D." She threw Hazel the sonic screwdriver.

"What?" the girl frowned, catching it.

"Reattaches barbed wire. Go!"

***

"Who are you?" Nancy asked as she and Hazel found the hole in the fence. "Who are any of you?"

Hazel snorted as she started fusing the wire back together. "You'd never believe me if I told you."

"You just told me that was an ambulance from another world. There are people running around with gas mask heads calling for their mummies, and the sky's full of Germans dropping bombs on me," Nancy deadpanned. "Tell me, do you think there's anything left I couldn't believe?"

"We're time travellers from the future," Hazel told her.

"Mad, you are," Nancy shook her head.

"We have a time travel machine, seriously!" Hazel protested.

Nancy shook her head again. "It's not that. All right, so you've got a time travel machine. I believe you. Believe anything, me. But what future?"

Hazel blinked, turning to look at her. "Nancy, this isn't the end. I know how it looks, but it's not the end of the world or anything."

"How can you say that?!" Nancy demanded. "Look at it."

"Listen to me. I was born in this city," Hazel told her. "I'm from here, in like, fifty years time."

"From here?" Nancy echoed.

"I'm a Londoner from your future," Hazel nodded.

"But - but you're not -"

"What?"

"German," Nancy whispered.

"Nancy, the Germans don't come here. They don't win." Hazel glanced back as the patients left the hospital. "Don't tell anyone I told you so, but you know what? You win."

"We win?" Nancy blinked.

Hazel grinned. "Come on!" They ran back to the ambulance, just as Jack got it open.

"It's empty. Look at it."

"What do you expect in a Chula medical transporter?" the Hunter rolled her eyes. "Bandages? Cough drops? Hazel?"

"Why would I be in a Chula medical transporter?" Hazel joked. The Hunter shook her head. "Well, I don't know!"

"Yes, you do," the Time Lady assured her.

Hazel glanced at her palms."Nanogenes!"

The Hunter nodded. "It wasn't empty, Captain. There were enough nanogenes in there to rebuild a species."

Jack paled. "Oh, God."

"Getting it now, are we? When the ship crashes, the nanogenes escape. Billions upon billions of them, ready to fix all the cuts and bruises in the whole world," the Hunter explained. "But what they find first is a dead child, probably killed earlier that night, and wearing a gas mask."

"And they brought him back to life?" Hazel asked. "They can do that?"

The Hunter scoffed. "What's life? Life's easy. A quirk of matter. Nature's way of keeping meat fresh. Nothing to a nanogene." She held up a metal finger. "One problem, though. These nanogenes, they're not like the ones on your ship. This lot have never seen a human being before. Don't know what a human being's supposed to look like. All they've got to go on is one little body, and there's not a lot left. But they carry right on. They do what they're programmed to do. They patch it up. Can't tell what's gasmask and what's skull, but they do their best. Then off they fly, off they go, work to be done. Because, you see, now they think they know what people should look like, and it's time to fix all the rest. And they won't ever stop. They won't ever, ever stop. The entire human race is going to be torn down and rebuilt in the form of one terrified child looking for its mother, and nothing in the world can stop it!"

"I didn't know," Jack whispered, his eyes wide in horror.

The Hunter bit her lip, turning to work on the ambulance.

"Hazel!" Nancy cried, backing up as the patients approached.

"Mummy. Mummy."

"It's bringing the gas mask people here, isn't it?" Hazel guessed.

"The ship thinks it's under attack," the Hunter stated. "It's calling up the troops. Standard protocol."

"But they're not troops."

"They are now," the Hunter countered. "This is a battle-field ambulance. The nanogenes don't just fix you up, they get you ready for the front line. Equip you, programme you."

"That's why the child's so strong," Hazel realised. "Why it could do that phoning thing."

"It's a fully equipped Chula warrior, yes," the Hunter nodded. "All that weapons tech in the hands of a hysterical four year old looking for his mummy. And now there's an army of them."

Jack looked around, seeing the patients were surrounding them outside the barbed wire, but not coming further. "Why don't they attack?"

"Good little soldiers, waiting for their commander," the Hunter shrugged.

"The child?" Jack asked.

"Jamie," Nancy corrected.

He frowned. "What?"

"Not the child. Jamie."

"So how long until the bomb falls?" Hazel inquired.

"Any second," Jack stated, swallowing hard.

"What's the matter, Captain?" the Hunter teased. "A bit close to the volcano for you?"

"He's just a little boy," Nancy wept.

"I know," the Hunter whispered, looking down.

"He's just a little boy who wants his mummy."

"I know," she repeated. "There isn't a little boy born who wouldn't tear the world apart to save his mummy. And this little boy can."

"So what're we going to do?" Hazel asked.

"I don't know," the Hunter admitted.

"It's my fault," Nancy sobbed.

"No."

"It is," she insisted. "It's all my fault."

"How can it be your -?" The Hunter cut herself off, her eyes widening.

"Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy."

"Nancy, what age are you? Twenty? Twenty one? Older than you look, yes?"

Jack flinched as a bomb exploded nearby. "Queenie, that bomb. We've got seconds."

"You can teleport us out," Hazel pointed out.

"Not you guys," Jack shook his head. "The nav-com's back online. Going to take too long to override the protocols."

"So it's volcano day," the Hunter told him, looking up at him with a sad smile. "Do what you've got to do, Captain."

"Jack?" Hazel asked. The man disappeared, and the Hunter turned back to Nancy.  

"How old were you five years ago? Fifteen? Sixteen? Old enough to give birth, anyway. He's not your brother, is he? A teenage single mother in 1941. So you hid. You lied. You even lied to him."

The gate opened, and Jamie stood there. "Are you my mummy?"

"He's going to keep asking, Nancy," the Hunter told her. "He's never going to stop."

"Mummy?"

"Tell him. Nancy, the future of the human race is in your hands. Trust me and tell him."

Nancy and Jamie walked towards each other slowly. "Are you my mummy? Are you my mummy? Are you my mummy?"

"Yes," Nancy admitted. "Yes, I am your mummy."

"Mummy?"

"I'm here."

"Are you my mummy?"

"I'm here."

"Are you my mummy?"

"Yes."

"Are you my mummy?"

The Hunter bit her lip. "He doesn't understand. There's not enough of him left."

"I am your mummy. I will always be your mummy. I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry." Nancy hugged her son, and a cloud of golden nanogenes surrounded them.

"What's happening?" Hazel asked, her eyes widening. "Art, it's changing her, we should -"

"Wait!" the Hunter exclaimed. "Come on, please. Come on, you clever little nanogenes. Figure it out! The mother, she's the mother! It's got to be enough information. Figure it out!"

"What's happening?" Hazel repeated, confused.

"See?" the Hunter grinned. "Recognising the same DNA." Jamie let go, and the pair of them fell to the ground. "Oh, come on. Give me a day like this. Give me this one." She removed Jamie's gas mask, laughed, and picked up the boy to swing him in the air as he grinned. "Yes! Welcome back! Twenty years till pop music - you're going to love it."

"What happened?" Nancy asked, getting to her feet with Hazel's help.

"The nanogenes recognised the superior information - the parent DNA," the Hunter explained, holding Jamie on her hip. "They didn't change you because you changed them! Mother knows best!"

"Oh, Jamie," Nancy sighed, hugging her son as the Hunter handed him over.

"Artie, that bomb," Hazel reminded her.

"Taken care of it," the Hunter grinned.

"How?" Hazel frowned.

"Psychology."

They both looked up and watched as the bomb hurtled towards them before being caught in Jack's tractor beam just a few metres above them. The man himself was sat astride the bomb. "Queenie!" he called, grinning.

"That's my boy!" the Hunter cheered.

"The bomb's already commenced detonation," Jack told her. "I've put it in stasis, but it won't last long."

"Change of plan," the Time Lady explained. "Don't need the bomb. Can you get rid of it, safely as you can?"

Jack nodded. "Jules?"

"Yeah?" Hazel grinned.

"Goodbye." He and the bomb disappeared, then reappeared. "By the way, love the t-shirt." And they vanished again.

The Hunter snapped her fingers, summoning nanogenes. Hazel frowned. Was she hurt? "What are you doing?"

"Software patch," she replied. "Going to email the upgrade. You want moves, Haze? I'll give you moves." She thrust the nanogenes over to the waiting patients and soldiers, and they all fell to the ground. "Everybody lives, Hazel!" the Hunter grinned, hugging her tight. "Just this once, everybody lives."

As soon as the patients were standing up again, the Hunter found Dr Constantine looking more than a little confused. "Ah, Dr Constantine, who never left his patients. Back on your feet, constant doctor. The world doesn't want to get by without you just yet, and I don't blame it one bit. These are your patients. All better now."

"Yes, yes, so it seems," Constantine nodded, looking around. "They also seem to be standing around in a disused railway station. Is there any particular reason for that?"

"Yeah, well, you know, cutbacks," the Hunter shrugged. "Listen, whatever was wrong with them in the past, you're probably going to find that they're cured. Just tell them what a great doctor you are. Don't make a big thing of it. Okay?" She made her way back to the ambulance as an old woman hobbled up.

"What are you doing?" Hazel asked, happy to watch the Hunter as she fiddled with the wiring of the ship.

"Setting this to self-destruct, soon as everybody's clear. History says there was an explosion here," the Hunter stated. "Who am I to argue with history?"

Hazel snorted. "Usually the first in line!"

***

"The nanogenes will clean up the mess and switch themselves off, because I just told them to," the Hunter explained as they got back to the TARDIS. "Nancy and Jamie will go to Dr Constantine for help, ditto. All in all, all things considered, fantastic!"

"Look at you, beaming away like you're Father Christmas," Hazel grinned.

The Hunter scoffed. "Who says I'm not - that switch blade of yours when you were seventeen?"

Hazel blinked. "Wait, what?"

"And everybody lives, Haze! Everybody lives! I need more days like this!"

"Artie," Hazel said, biting her lip.

"Go on, ask me anything. I'm on fire," the Hunter grinned.

"What about Jack?" Hazel wondered. "Why'd he say goodbye?"

The Hunter smiled. "Let's go get him."

***

"Okay, computer, how long can we keep the bomb in stasis?" Jack questioned, back in his ship.

"Stasis decaying at ninety percent cycle. Detonation in three minutes."

"Can we jettison it?"

"Any attempt to jettison the device will precipitate detonation. One hundred percent probability."

"We could stick it in an escape pod," Jack suggested.

"There is no escape pod on board."

Jack nodded. "I see the flaw in that. I'll get in the escape pod."

"There is no escape pod on board."

"Did you check everywhere?"

"Affirmative."

"Under the sink?" he checked.

"Affirmative."

"Okay," Jack blew out a breath. "Out of one hundred, exactly how dead am I?"

"Termination of Captain Jack Harkness in under two minutes. One hundred percent probability."

"Lovely. Thanks. Good to know the numbers," Jack said sarcastically.

"You're welcome."

He sighed. "Okay then. Think we'd better initiate emergency protocol four one seven."

"Affirmative."

A martini appeared, and Jack drank it, coughing. "Ooh, a little too much vermouth. See if I come here again." He chuckled weakly. "Funny thing. Last time I was sentenced to death, I ordered four hyper-vodkas for my breakfast. All a bit of a blur after that. Woke up in bed with both my executioners. Mmm, lovely couple. They stayed in touch. Can't say that about most executioners." He sighed again. "Anyway. Thanks for everything, computer. It's been great."

Suddenly, Moonlight Serenade started to play, and Jack turned around to see the open doors of the TARDIS through which the Hunter and Hazel could be seen dancing.

"Well, hurry up, then!" Hazel called as she saw him looking. He ran in, and she turned her attention back to the Hunter. "Okay. And right and turn." They messed up, and she giggled. "Okay, okay, try and spin me again, but this time, don't get my arm up my back. No extra points for a half-nelson."

"I'm sure I used to know this stuff," the Hunter pouted. "Close the door, will you? Your ship's about to blow up. There's going to be a draught." Jack did as asked, and she started up the engines, piloting them into the vortex. "Welcome to the TARDIS," she smiled as the flight settled down.

"Much bigger on the inside," Jack stated appreciatively.

The Hunter winked. "You'd better be."

Hazel rolled her eyes. "I think what's Artie's trying to say is you may cut in."

"God, no," the Hunter snorted. "I've just remembered!"

"What?" Hazel asked.

The music changed to Glenn Miller's In The Mood. "I can dance! I can dance!"

Hazel smiled. "Actually, Artie, I thought Jack might like this dance."

"I'm sure he would, Haze," the Hunter grinned, grabbing the girl and spinning her. "I'm absolutely certain. But who with?" Hazel laughed as she was dipped, and Jack smiled. This... this wasn't bad at all.

~~~

If you enjoyed, please like and/or reblog, and consider helping me out by donating to my Kofi! Thanks for reading :)

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[msgtporkins]

Dealing With The Elephant’s Foot

I sit at my computer, writing this as sweat pours down brow and the back of my neck due to the medication that is helping me fight this bacterial demon of epic proportions. The scare first started on Saturday night after I had a late workout session. It was light duty stuff to help bring my corpulent frame in something more manageable then get back into the brawny young man I was in high school. The thought of once more being able to see my penis excited me as I walked 3 miles on the treadmill then proceeded with some light free weights then the bane of any fat guy's routine - the sit up.  I cranked out 20 (the most I could do without pushing myself) and felt good about doing so. I'd been doing the same routine nightly for two weeks and dropped an impressive 3 pounds. That may not seem like much but to me, it was a clear goal. 

  As I head home for a much needed shower and sleep, I awoke the next morning to go to church to help out in the kitchen on the first of the month but my right calf had a slight burning sensation as if someone was pulling a frat house prank on a drunk guy by holding a match under bare skin. I stretched it out and thought nothing of it until I got home. While sitting down in my office chair to do some quality video recording, I felt a weird lump in the crease between my thigh and groin area. At first I thought it some sort of fatty mass because when you're as big as me, you tend to have areas like that but something was off. It was a hard mass and it was in the lymph node area, thinking that during the cold season it may have clogged up and sometimes they will do that. During the summer time, the ones in my throat will do so due to allergies so I shrugged it off...until a few hours later.  The mass grew double its size and I began to worry.  I showed my wife and we got onto Skype with her father, who has been a male ER nurse for 40 plus years. He has seen things that Indiana Jones would dare to discover and it was only proper to ask his advice. After some cross-chat and prognosis, we figured it to be DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) or lymph nodes swelling.  CaffienatedTigress, my wife, went down to the store and picked up some low-dose aspirin to help thin the blood some to see if that would help.  It did but not in the way we thought it would.

  I woke up the next morning to a mass that had spread to my genital area, causing a slight painful swelling that was looking to overtake everything down south. I wasn't panicked or anything but I figured it was more lymph node thing until I moved. The burning sensation came back full force and it felt as if you had slept too close to a campfire and your sin was all painfully burning because you were slightly cooked. Over the next couple of days, the swelling had gotten worse and my right testicle was about the size of a grapefruit and had the appearance of Quasimodo and Sloth made a baby during some animalistic argument sex. Now it was time to go see a doctor. We made our way to a Primary Health Non-Emergency clinic a.k.a. Doc-In-A-Box and awaited to be seen. Apparently, the doc was let out of his cage that day and only a Physician's Assistant was available. They asked if that would be okay. I said of course but in turned out not to be. A young man who reminded me of Paul Reubens yet looked perfectly suited for a prison ward looked me over. He was oddly reluctant at the fact that I was not timid about becoming naked in the time it takes for Rosie O'Donnell to demolish a honey ham during the holidays. After a quick look over, he announced that I could have a hernia. Great. I spend all this time trying to be careful and taking it easy, only to be side-tracked by the one thing I didn't want. He referred us to an actual hospital where actual doctors could do actual examination with actual accuracy. Once again, we were off like my boxers. 

  We arrived at St. Luke's where we were wonderfully greeted by a mousy, young gal that reminded of Jennine Melnatz, the receptionist from the movie, "Ghostbusters". That's a good thing because we saw lots of her as she apologized profusely throughout of visit because Pee Wee forgot to send over the paperwork and when he finally did (I can assume we were waiting for Mailman Mike or Captain Carl to deliver it from Puppet Land), it was a jumbled mess of letters, sentences and paragraphs that was even worse than what you are reading right now. After a couple of hours of sorting through it all, we were brought back to the ultrasound room to see if the mass that was growing like The Blob was indeed a hernia. While Tigress watched from a mere six feet away, my groin region was fondled by a mid-30's blonde gal whose touch were like silk for over an hour and afterwards she even gave her coffee. My penis did nothing the entire time, not even poking out of its now flesh bunker like the gopher from Caddyshack. It was stoic and unwavering like a mighty oak...er...acorn. As she was sending over the result, apparently, the computer was having a hard time trying to send over the information of my newly-lubed genitals to the radiologist to view. She had to take a screen shot with her phone to send enough over to him and ended us sending me home because it wasn't an emergency from what they could find. They told me they would call the next day and I would hear the bad/good news. 

17 hours later... 

  I get a call from Pee Wee because I can safety assume that he had gotten a new tin can for his phone after Cowboy Curtis shot the old one. He told me that there was 'dead and dying tissue so I needed to go to the ER'. Well shit... We loaded up into the Tigress-mobile and headed off to the place I should of went to first. This was another St. Luke's but the one I knew better. I was born in this one. Everyone in the Pork Platoon helped raised money for the Children's Hospital there. I should of used better judgement and went right to where I knew that I would of had this problem solved without the sketchy medical practices of Puppet Land and faulty ultrasound machines. (I would of missed out on a good fondling so it wasn't all bad) I was immediately brought in, stripped down and put into a room within five minutes of arrival. So far, so good then walks in the hero of the story. The male ER nurse that came to save the day had a battle-harden look about him. He had the physical attributes of Mr. Clean and the cut-straight-through-the-bullshit feel of Cable from the Marvel comic. In the next two minutes, he man-handled my junk as if he was engaged in hand-to-gland combat. He knew exactly where to strike and get the job done. He asked if there was an ultrasound and I told him, "Yes, sir.". Within a minute's time, he disappeared and came back, having gotten the results from the other hospital and told me that I had a bacterial infection most commonly found on gym equipment. He had saved the day in record time and ravished my body in a way I have never been loved before. 

  Rewind back to that Saturday night. 

  The on-site gym in the apartment complex I live it isn't exactly the best in the world but it does what you need it to do. There are free-weights, treadmills, stationary bikes and some sort of machine that even in all my years of workout, I've never seen before and probably equate it to some sort of Slavic torture device that was used by Spetsnaz for interrogating Western spies and now was bought on the cheap by this housing company because 'it looks like gym equipment'. There is only one bench in the entire place that has the ability to be able to use it for sit ups and free weights. The one I used quite often, every day in fact. I'm the kind of person that cleans up equipment afterwards because I wouldn't want anyone sliding around on my body sweat because Tigress does that and I even feel bad for her for doing that. That gal is the greatest wife in the world. Apparently, I was naive to think others would do the same but in this hustle-and-bustle world of staying glued to an iPhone and not giving a damn about where you sling your body fluids, I can only imagine the genital sweat left behind by all the men and women living there. One can only guess by what slimy smegma-covered hot dog or Sarlaac pit mixed with the bacterial contents of a Chipotle food service line have laid across this bench and not been wiped up once. I was the one who fell victim to such vile nastiness and my groin nearly paid the ultimate price. 

  The antibiotics are working great yet they are causing me to sweat because my body is warming itself up to fight off the foreign invaders.  It's just natural and happens normally but since I'm a naturally warm-bodied person, the kind of heat I produce is liken to that of the 1986 Chernobyl disaster and I'm laying on top of the covers while my still swollen testicle sits their like the infamous Elephant's Foot, only can be viewed by someone for a few seconds because keeling over and dying. At least I'm feeling better. 

I'll see you all on the next battlefield! 

Deuces, 

Wayde "MSgtPorkins" Andazola