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thevalleyisjolly · 3 years

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Star Trek Beyond ramblings under the cut, because I love this movie so much:

I was just watching Star Trek Beyond again, and it’s really just such a good ensemble movie. It wasn’t a Kirk-is-the-hero movie or a Kirk-and-Spock movie, it was an Enterprise movie. Everyone in the crew had roles, not just isolated moments of badassery or humour, but actual places in the narrative that showed off their character and development. I mean, we see:

Bones being a doctor, what that actually looks like apart from waving a scanner around and jabbing people with needles. How he interacts with his patient, the brusque bedside manner that nevertheless goes hand-in-hand with his genuine concern, improvising treatments when he doesn’t have the advanced tools he normally does. Damn it, the man is a doctor, and he’s a good one, and we get to see that!

Sulu and Uhura taking initiative, being leaders! Uhura putting herself at risk again and again to do what’s best for the crew, Sulu taking a leadership role with the surviving crew members and trying to keep them safe. TOS Sulu eventually becomes a captain, and you can really see the echoes of those leadership skills emerging here. And Uhura, separating the saucer to give the escape pods a chance, breaking out of the cell to send a distress signal, asserting what’s right and standing up to Krall. In many ways, she gets the hero(ine) role that in the past, has been given to Kirk or Spock.

Spock’s more introspective side. He spends a lot of the movie considering his place in the universe, his responsibilities, the legacy of Ambassador Spock, mortality. He doesn’t Vulcan-logic up a genius plan in the nick of time to save the day, it’s a softer, more measured Spock we see here, and it’s fantastic.

Scotty being a mentor and a father-figure, reaching out to Jaylah and being a figure of kindness and encouragement and concern. He saves the day in a different kind of way than whipping up an engineering miracle or three - he saves the day by reaching out to someone who was lonely and being a person who cares.

Chekov alone had less to do in the movie, but we still see him taking on leadership during the attack, making sure everyone on the bridge got in an escape pod safely, being the second last to abandon ship, only after everyone else had already gone. It’s a far cry from the childish, almost comedic role he’s had so far.

Jim being a captain, not a hero. When Commodore Paris congratulated him on saving Yorktown and he said that it wasn’t him, that really rang true. Kirk spends pretty much the entire movie affirming and reaffirming that his crew is capable, that they achieve things together, and it’s something the movie’s structure reinforces as well. More on that later.

And yes, the ensemble structure means that individual characters don’t get a ton of time focused on their own arcs, but you don’t necessarily need a lot of time in an ensemble movie, you just need to make effective use of what time you do have. Which I won’t claim every character had amazing character moments, but there was pretty solid and consistent characterization throughout, and the characters who did have time to shine shone brilliantly.

The whole theme of this movie is, as Uhura asserted to Krall/Eddison, “strength in unity.” It’s very much not an action/super hero type movie, where a single extraordinary individual saves the day. It’s the crew of the Enterprise, working together to their respective strengths, that succeeds.

Conversely, Krall/Eddison is strong so long as he still has his crew with them, but once he loses them, he loses his power. While he still has Kalara and Manas, his plans proceed well - Kalara ensnares the Enterprise, Manas helps him get away to Yorktown. Without them, he has no support. The contrast of that final confrontation with Kirk, Kirk with the entire crew of the Enterprise talking to him, giving him instructions, providing back up, and Eddison, standing alone, dying alone and in silence amidst the emptiness of space.

I mean, that scene when the U.S.S. Franklin is facing the swarm, if you watch, it’s literally the entire crew coming up with the solution together. One person has a realization, another follows that up with a suggestion, another builds on that, so on and so forth. It’s all of them, talking together, that solve the problem. No one person has all the pieces to the puzzle or some sudden mastermind plan, it’s everyone contributing what they have.

And I think that leads me into another thing that’s so great about this movie, is that it recognizes the competence and the ability of these characters. When faced with danger, everyone knows their duties, everyone performs their duties with competence and skill, they’re not just cogs in a machine, but well-oiled cogs. The movie respects these characters, respects their capabilities and their foibles and their development.

Which goes into this movie and legacy, and honouring what came before while growing into something new. We see the impacts of previous events on these characters, we see that they mattered. Someone else has already pointed out how the escape pods are called Kelvin pods - the destruction of the Kelvin in the first movie mattered, not just to Kirk, it mattered to Starfleet and they made damn sure that their crews should always have a chance to live. The destruction of Vulcan and Spock wondering about his potential duties to his people - of course that’s going to be something that lingers! The horrors of genocide aren’t just the immediate loss of loved ones, of a planet, it’s something that continues to have an effect on survivors’ lives and futures.

(There are the good legacies too, the bittersweet legacies. Ambassador Spock’s belongings, that picture of TOS cast, ugh)

((Also, the core of Eddison being that he can’t move forwards from the past, from the legacy he was a part of, that he helped build. Wanting things to stay the same - and the irony is that in trying to keep the universe at war, he changes himself so drastically from what he was. And to have his legacy, his crew’s legacy, be changed by his actions. As Commodore Paris said, “For generations, we taught that they were heroes.” Now they’re a tragedy))

It’s interesting because both Spock and Kirk have storylines around questioning their place in the universe, of living with legacies and living their lives now. And we have Kirk and Bones having that conversation at the start, Bones very keenly pointing out that Kirk has been living for his father for so long but not for himself, and then the movie switches gears and works out these feelings with Spock.

(Love how both of them end up having these conversations with Bones, give the man a gold star friend award)

And we don’t really see Kirk working through this, except we do. Kirk doesn’t talk about it outside of his captain’s log or with Bones, but we have Spock’s conversation. We see the static-y legacy of the Franklin, we see Eddison’s despair and rage in his captain’s log, we see the crew of the Enterprise rising up to the task, confronting the past and saving the present. We see Jaylah face the trauma of her memories and find trust and belonging in others, we see old meeting new, loneliness and despair but also love and hope.

We see everything except Kirk’s own internal struggle (save for Chris Pine’s frankly stellar facial acting), but maybe we don’t need to. Because everything Kirk wrestles with is everything we come to realize through the movie, and as much as we are watching what’s going on, so is he.

(See? It is a Kirk movie in a way, in that his internal conflict inspires the overall themes in the movie. But Kirk is also the audience, watching the tragedy of Eddison and the Franklin, seeing the crew, his crew, work together.)

Also, loved the unconventional character groupings. We have Sulu and Uhura as a team, Kirk and Chekov, Scotty and Jaylah, and the absolute genius of Bones and Spock. I wish all Star Trek Beyond scriptwriters a very pleasant evening for giving us the absolute gift of Bones and Spock together. We have been so blessed.

#the valley is posting #star trek beyond #these ramblings are by no means coherent but this movie just makes my media analysis heart leap for joy #it's also just a really enjoyable star trek movie because it feels like it was made with love #it's not meant to be a franchise or box office superstar; it's a love letter and an homage to the series that people love #and it's not to say that it was perfect! there's definitely stuff they slipped up on or could have done better #but thematically and character-wise - oh; it was so good #this post inspired by a wonderfully kind comment from its-all-ineffable #i started a post like this months ago but i couldn't remember the details until i rewatched it tonight

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chocolatequeennk · 7 years

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Forever and Never Apart, 20/42

Summary: After taking a year to recover from the Master, the Doctor and Rose are ready to travel again. But Time keeps pushing them forward, and instead of going back to their old life, they slowly realise that they’re stepping into a new life. Friends new and old are meeting on the TARDIS, and when the stars start going out, the Doctor and Rose face the biggest change of all: the return of Bad Wolf.

Series 4 with Rose, part 7 of Being to Timelessness; sequel to Taking Time (AO3 | FF.NET | TSP)

Betaed by @lastbluetardis, @rudennotgingr, @jabber-who-key, and @pellaaearien. Thank you so much!

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16 | Ch 17 | Ch 18 | Ch 19

Chapter Twenty: The Man in the Brown Suit

In the library, Agatha took the chair in front of the empty fireplace while Rose sat down in the corner, almost out of sight. The Doctor raised his eyebrows, but she shook her head and crossed her legs at the ankles.

“If no one notices I’m here, I might be able to pick up on things you and Agatha miss,” she explained. “Just make sure you don’t block my view when you start pacing, Doctor,” she added, giving him a cheeky smile and a wink.

Agatha looked at the two of them, a funny smile on her face. “Husband and wife, solving crimes together. You remind me of Tommy and Tuppence.”

“Rose has a keen eye,” the Doctor said as he positioned a chair directly in front of the large window. “She always sees things I miss.”

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Reverend Golightly entered the room, and the Doctor pointed at the waiting chair.

Once he was seated, the Doctor clasped his hands behind his back and started pacing—being sure not to block Rose’s view, as instructed. “Now then, Reverend. Where were you at a quarter past four?”

“Let me think.”

The Doctor’s left eyebrow arched—barely an hour had passed since the professor had been killed. That was hardly long enough for anyone to have forgotten what they’d been doing at the time.

“Let me think,” is a way to stall for time while you figure out how to answer, Rose pointed out.

The Doctor nodded. That was exactly what it felt like to him.

It only took the vicar a moment to recall, however. “Why yes, I remember. I was unpacking in my room.”

“No alibi, then.” The Doctor watched carefully, and the skin around the vicar’s mouth tightened slightly at the casual observation.

“You were alone?” Agatha pressed, giving him a chance to produce an alibi.

The discomfiture disappeared, replaced by a serene smile. “With the Lord, one is never truly alone.” He looked up at the Doctor, clearly expecting to be dismissed. “Doctor?”

The Doctor nodded.

That was a rather neat way to side-step the question, wasn’t it? Rose said as the reverend stood up and left the room.

Yes, it was, the Doctor agreed. And he didn’t appreciate me pointing out that he had no alibi either.

Roger Curbishley entered the room, ending their conversation. The Doctor stared at the young aristocrat, trying to look him in the eye but unable to look away from his disastrous orange-and-white striped tie. “And where were you?”

“Let me think.”

The Doctor pressed his lips together. Is everyone hiding something?

“I was…” Roger tugged on his tie and straightened the knot. “Oh, yes. I was taking a constitutional in the fields behind the house. Just taking a stroll, that’s all.”

“Alone?” the Doctor asked, then watched in astonishment as the most fake smile he’d ever seen stretched across Roger’s face. He’d always thought “pasting a smile on” was simply a metaphor, but the future Lord Eddison might as well have been wearing a paper mask, so bad was his acting job.

“Oh, yes, all alone. Totally alone. Absolutely alone. Completely. All of the time.”

He was with Davenport, Doctor.

The Doctor nodded at Rose as Roger continued his utterly unbelievable description of his afternoon.

“I wandered lonely as the proverbial cloud. There was no one else with me. Not at all. Not ever.”

“All right,” the Doctor cut in. “I think you can go now. Perhaps you can spend the rest of the evening before dinner… alone.”

The tips of Roger’s ears turned red, and he made his way hastily out of the library. Miss Robina Redmond entered next and took the chair. With her ankles crossed and her hands resting in her lap, she looked more composed than either of the two people they’d questioned so far.

“And where were you?” The Doctor took a moment and peered down at Agatha’s notebook, filled with neat shorthand, then he looked back at the suspect.

“At a quarter past four.” She stared at the wall above the fireplace, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Well, I went to the toilet when I arrived, and then um…” Her frown cleared, and her eyes brightened in a smile. “Oh, yes, I remember. I was preparing myself. Positively buzzing with excitement about the party and the super fun of meeting Lady Eddy.”

She’s lying, but I don’t know what about. I don’t think she was the murderer, but she’s definitely keeping something from us.

The Doctor nodded to acknowledge Rose’s comment, then tapped his fingers together and looked at Miss Redmond. “We’ve only got your word for it.”

The socialite’s lips curled in a smirk. “That’s your problem, not mine.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, but nodded when the young woman inclined her head as if to ask if she was free to go.

“Quite an insolent young woman,” Agatha murmured in the lull between suspects.

“Very,” the Doctor agreed. “But insolence is not necessarily indicative of homicidal tendencies.”

Greeves rolled Colonel Curbishley into the library, then quietly moved out of the way so the Doctor could question him.

“And where were you, sir?”

“Quarter past four?” The colonel twiddled his thumbs. “Dear me, let me think. Ah, yes, I remember. I was in me study, reading through some military memoirs. Fascinating stuff. Took me back to my days in the army. Started reminiscing. Mafeking, you know. Terrible war.”

The older man didn’t look like he was lost in memories of the horrors of war, and the Doctor decided rather quickly that he didn’t want to know what the gentleman was actually thinking about.

“Colonel, snap out of it,” he ordered.

Curbishley blinked. “I was in me study—”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, no, no. Right out of it.”

“Oh, sorry.” The colonel’s face flushed dark red. “Got a bit carried away there.”

“Didn’t you just,” the Doctor said drily, before nodding at Greeves to wheel his employer out of the room.

Lady Eddison was the last to be questioned, as befitted her station. She sat in the chair with her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap.

The Doctor leaned back against the mantel. “And where were you at a quarter past four, my lady?”

“Now, let me see.” Lady Eddison closed her eyes and reached for her necklaces, playing with the large jewel pendant as she thought. “Yes, I remember. I was sitting in the Blue Room, taking my afternoon tea.” She opened her eyes and gave the Doctor a patronising smile. “It’s a ritual of mine. I needed to gather strength for the duty of hostess. I then proceeded to the lawn where I met you, Doctor, and I said, who exactly might you be and what are you doing here? And you said, I am the Doctor… My wife, Rose Tyler—”

“Yes, yes,” the Doctor interrupted when she looked over at Rose. “You can stop now. I was there for that bit.”

“Of course.” She nodded, then a hiccup escaped her, and the Doctor had a sudden suspicion she hadn’t been taking tea in the Blue Room, after all. Lady Eddison closed her eyes and turned her head away in humiliation, confirming his guess. “Excuse me.”

“It’s all right, my lady,” Rose said gently. “If you’d like to go back to your hostess duties, we need to talk about what we’ve learned.”

The older woman was too grateful to be excused to notice she’d actually been dismissed. She fled the room, and Rose watched in amusement as the Doctor and Agatha both paced in front of the fireplace.

“Are we going to question the servants?” Rose asked.

“Not yet,” Agatha said. “If we discover none of the guests or the hosts are the murderer, then perhaps…” She tapped her pen to lips as she paced. “No alibis for any of them. The Secret Adversary remains hidden. We must look for a motive. Use ze little grey cells,” she said, tapping her temple.

“I’m sorry, Agatha,” Rose interrupted. “Did you say no one has an alibi?”

Agatha blinked and looked over at her. “Yes, that’s right. Or did you catch something we missed, Mrs. Tyler?”

“You can call me Rose, please.” She bit her lip; she had no intentions of outing Roger, but she also didn’t want him to be a murder suspect when he was clearly innocent. “It’s just… didn’t you notice how insistent Roger was that he was alone? Like… he didn’t want us to question who he might have been with?”

Agatha’s eyes widened. “You’re absolutely right, Rose. So, the son is having an affair with someone his parents wouldn’t approve of.” She looked at the Doctor. “I see why you insisted Rose question them with us, Doctor. More than a keen eye, she has an innate understanding of people. Somehow, I have a feeling she often helps you in your police work.”

Rose basked in the pride in the Doctor’s eyes, and what he projected over the bond. “Oh, yes,” he agreed, a wide grin stretching across his face. “The higher-ups at Scotland Yard wouldn’t understand, but Rose is an invaluable help in all my investigations. I couldn’t do it without her.”

The author waved her pen at the Doctor. “That doesn’t surprise me at all,” she told him. “For such an experienced detective, you missed a big clue.”

“What, that bit of paper you nicked out the fire?” the Doctor countered.

The surprise on the author’s face amused Rose, and she settled in to watch the game of verbal tennis.

“You were looking the other way.”

The corners of the Doctor’s mouth curled up in a smug smile. “Yeah, but I saw you reflected in the glass of the bookcase.”

A true smile crossed Agatha’s face. “You crafty man. This is all that was left.” She picked up the scrap of paper from where she’d left it on top of the mantel, and the Doctor and Rose both crowded around to take a look at it.

There were only five letters on the charred scrap: aiden. The first letter was almost legible, and Rose leaned closer for a better look.

“What’s that first letter?” she asked. “N or M?”

“It’s an ‘M,’” Agatha said. “The word is maiden.”

“Maiden!” the Doctor exclaimed, making Agatha jump. “What does that mean?”

“Maiden name?” Rose suggested. “We heard the professor say he wanted to check something in the library before the party started. If there was some kind of paperwork… secret wedding license, perhaps? That’s the kind of scandal someone might be willing to kill to hide.”

Agatha put most of her weight on one foot and rested her hand on the opposite hip. “Oh yes, Rose, I believe you are quite indispensable to the Doctor.” She sighed and shook her head. “Sadly, that speculation brings us no closer to finding our Nemesis. Hopefully Miss Noble and Miss Tyler found something more definitive.”

oOoOoOoOo

“Donna, can I ask you something?” Jenny asked as they rifled through the Colonel’s study.

Donna held up a magazine between her thumb and forefinger. The pictures might have been drawings instead of photographs, but she recognised a girlie mag when she saw one. “Oh, I do not want to know what he does with that,” she muttered, then tossed it aside. “Yeah, go ahead Jenny. You can always ask me anything.”

Jenny bit her lip, then nodded once. She couldn’t really back away now, not once she’d brought it up.

“Why are you so defensive all the time?”

Donna’s spine stiffened, and when she spun around to look at Jenny, there were red spots on her cheeks. “What do you mean, defensive? I’m not defensive!”

“You’re doing it right now,” Jenny pointed out calmly. “It’s like… like you have to get angry with people before they can be angry with you.”

Donna’s eyes flashed, and Jenny sucked in a breath. “Oh, that’s it. Because the best defence is a good offence. That’s why all the offensive measures were downloaded into a new soldier’s mind first, so we could protect our weaknesses by making the Hath too weak to attack.”

“We’re done in this room.” Donna stalked past Jenny. “Time to go search the bedrooms.”

It was obvious even to someone who’d only been born a month ago that Donna had no desire to talk about this, but Jenny had her father’s tenacity. She set her jaw and followed after the other woman, barely catching up with her before she disappeared around the corner.

“I don’t understand though, Donna,” she said as Donna flung open the bedroom door so hard that it hit the wall behind it. “You’re brilliant, and so much fun. Why do you constantly expect people to get upset with you?”

Donna pressed her lips together, but Jenny thought she saw her chin tremble and a glint of moisture in her eyes. “I’m not talking about this,” Donna said, but the words didn’t come out as harshly as Jenny thought she’d maybe been trying for.

Jenny hesitated, then nodded. “All right.”

Donna took a deep breath, then nodded once she felt like she was in control again. “Right, let’s get on with this,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what Jenny had said, though. Memories she’d suppressed leaked out—all the times she’d been told that you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar, or the irony of her mother saying that she’d never find a man willing to put up with her sharp tongue.

“Did Rose put you up to this?” she blurted out as they went into the next room. They still hadn’t found a clue, not even a trace of the sticky substance the Doctor had called morphic residue.

Jenny crossed the room to the bureau and opened the top drawer. “Did Rose put me up to what?” she asked absently.

Donna stared at her with a hand on her hip. It took Jenny a moment to register the silence, but when she looked up and took in Donna’s posture, comprehension flashed through her eyes.

“Oh!” She slid the drawer of the bureau shut. “No, I just… I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t, but I can’t stop thinking about it. So we might as well talk.” She was gratified to see Jenny shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. At least she wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable with the conversation. “What made you ask that?” she pressed. “If it wasn’t Rose, then…”

Jenny tilted her head and studied Donna for a moment. “It was… I listened to you earlier, when Dad gave you the magnifying glass, and I realised that you don’t know.”

“I don’t know what?” Donna snapped. Whether she’d meant to or not, Jenny had stepped into her biggest insecurity—all the things she didn’t know.

And the smile on the other woman’s face didn’t make Donna feel any better. “That’s just it, Donna,” Jenny said. “You don’t realise how brilliant Dad thinks you are. Well, both of them,” she amended quickly. “But you poke at Dad more than you do Rose, so I feel like you’re more defensive of that.”

Donna snorted. “Oh, yeah. He thinks I’m so brilliant. Me, the human who was stupid enough to get engaged to a man who was conspiring with a giant spider to take over the planet.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why the Doctor and Rose invited me to travel with them, but it wasn’t because of my brain.”

Jenny shook her head. “No, you’re wrong, Donna. Why do you think Dad trusted you to go through the rooms? He knows that if something is out of place, you’ll spot it.”

Donna wanted to believe her, but three decades of experience told her that no one kept her around for her brain. She was so used to the snide comments about her intelligence that she hadn’t even noticed Lance sneering at her until that last day.

She glanced around the room and shook her head. “Well, there’s nothing to spot in here. Come on, next room.”

But the last door in the corridor wouldn’t open. When the knob wouldn’t twist, Donna crouched down, trying to peer through the keyhole.

“You won’t find anything in there.”

Donna squeaked and spun around to glare at the butler, who had appeared out of nowhere.

“Why is it locked?” Jenny asked while Donna was still recovering from the surprise.

The butler straightened and looked down his nose at them. “Lady Eddison commands it to be so.”

His implacable expression pricked at Donna’s temper. “And I command it to be otherwise.” Greeves frowned at her. “Scotland Yard. Pip, pip.”

His nostrils flared, but he acquiesced, pulling a key out of his pocket as he moved around her. Donna smirked as he unlocked the door; sometimes it really did work to be just a little bit prickly.

“So you didn’t actually tell us why it’s locked,” Jenny pointed out. “Lady Eddison commands… but why?”

Donna grinned at the younger woman and gave her a thumbs up over Greeves’ shoulder.

“Many years ago, when my father was butler to the family, Lady Eddison returned from India with malaria. She locked herself in this room for six months until she recovered. Since then, the room has remained undisturbed.”

He pushed the door open and Donna strode past him into a room lit only by the sunlight filtering in through heavy curtains.

“There’s nothing in here,” Greeves repeated, his voice quiet but firm.

Donna tried to stop thinking about Jenny’s questions, and focus on the mystery of the locked room. “How long’s it been empty?” she asked, looking at the short bed and the teddy bear sitting at the foot of it.

“Forty years.”

Jenny snuck past them and ran her fingers over the wooden paneling that went halfway up the walls. “Why would she seal it off?” she wondered.

Donna nodded once and spared a single glance for the butler, who clearly was waiting for them to realise they didn’t need to disturb this room after all. “All right, we need to investigate. You just butle off.” Greeves sighed, but he finally disappeared.

Donna closed the door behind him, then looked at Jenny, who was holding the bear. “Well, if I’m here because they know I’ll spot something, I guess we’d better get to work.”

Jenny put the bear down, then took a deep breath and looked at Donna. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said. “I just… I only figured this out this afternoon, and it felt important that you know how important you are to all of us. Dad and Rose don’t invite people in the TARDIS if they can’t keep up. I’ve only been around for a month and I’ve already figured that much out.”

“Look, I can’t think—”

Loud buzzing interrupted Donna’s attempt to brush off Jenny’s repeated compliment. Donna shook her head and followed the noise to the window. “Nineteen twenty-six, they’ve still got bees,” she muttered. “Oh, what a noise. All right, busy bee, I’ll let you out.” She smirked and put on a Belgian accent. “Hold on, I shall find you with my amazing powers of detection.”

She pulled the curtain back, expecting that a normal honeybee would buzz into the room, grateful to be free. Instead, she came face to face with a wasp bigger than she was.

“What is that?” Jenny backed up with Donna against the wall as the wasp swung its stinger and used it to break the glass.

Donna shook her head. “That’s impossible.” The wasp flew over to them, and Donna grabbed Jenny’s hand and slowly circled away from the enormous insect until her back was to the broken window.

“Doctor!”

“Dad!”

The wasp flew closer, and sunlight caught and reflected off its eyes. That gave Donna an idea, and she quickly lifted the magnifying glass over her head, focusing the sun into a narrow beam that burned the wasp.

Donna had never known insects shrieked in pain, and she could have happily gone the rest of her life without that knowledge. But the pain incapacitated the wasp for long enough to let her and Jenny run for the door, so she couldn’t regret her actions.

As soon as they were out of the room, Donna flung the door shut behind her. But two inches of solid English oak wasn’t enough to keep the wasp away; its sting slid through the wood like a knife through hot butter. Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and a moment later, to her utter relief, the Doctor, Rose, and Agatha Christie appeared.

“Dad!” Jenny gasped. “There’s a… on the other side…” She shook her head and pointed at Donna.

“It’s a giant wasp,” Donna said, a little breathless herself.

The Doctor blinked at her. “What do you mean, a giant wasp?”

Donna bristled. After everything he saw, a giant wasp surprised him? “I mean, a wasp that’s giant,” she ground out.

Agatha rolled her eyes at them. “It’s only a silly little insect.”

“Ah, Agatha?” Rose pointed at the door, and Donna was gratified to see her finger was shaking. “I don’t think Donna’s exaggerating when she says the wasp was giant.”

The Doctor stared at the sting for a long moment before flinging the door open. “Let me see.”

To his disappointment, the room was empty. He lingered in the doorway for a moment, waiting to see if it was merely hiding, but then he registered the silence, which was more telling than what he could see.

The Doctor shook his head. “It’s gone. Buzzed off.”

“We found it by the window,” Jenny told him, and they ran over to where the curtains were flapping in the breeze coming in through the open window.

“But that’s fascinating.”

Agatha’s words caught his attention, and he spun back around just in time to see her reaching for the sting. Rose grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. “I don’t think we should touch that,” she cautioned.

The Doctor pulled a test tube out of his pocket and slid in between Rose and Agatha and the door. “Thank you, Rose,” he said as he got down on his knees in front of the sting. The insect body part was oozing with morphic residue, so at least now they knew what form the alien took when it wasn’t human.

He snatched Agatha’s pencil out of her hands. “Giant wasp,” he mused as he dipped the pencil in the residue and scraped it into the test tube. “Well, that narrows it down from the tons of other amorphous insectivorous lifeforms, but I still don’t know what it’s doing here—none of the species I can think of live in this galactic vector.”

“I think I understood some of those words,” Agatha said. “Enough to know that you’re completely potty.”

“Lost its sting, though. That makes it defenceless,” Donna pointed out.

The Doctor shook his head. “Oh, a creature this size? Got to be able to grow a new one.”

“Can we return to sanity?” Agatha demanded. “There are no such things as giant wasps.”

“Excuse you.” Jenny crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the author. “I know what I saw. And if there wasn’t a giant wasp, where did that sting come from? It’s not like Donna and I were hiding it in our dresses.”

Rose nodded. “Clearly, there is a giant wasp buzzing around. The question is, why is it here?”

The Doctor dropped the test tube into his pocket and pushed himself to his feet. “Exactly. And not just here, but killing people.”

“Seriously, Doctor.” Agatha glared at him. “Finding a murderer is not supposed to be an Ordeal by Innocence, whereby you absolve everyone of guilt and pin it on a fantastic monster that doesn’t exist!”

At that point, the Doctor ignored the author’s protests. The murderer was an alien, and there was nothing to be gained by wasting time arguing with Agatha Christie over that fact.

The test tube in his pocket was their best clue, and he started down the stairs, intending to go back to the TARDIS to analyse the substance. At least then he’d have a planet of origin, instead of a Destination Unknown.

Rose groaned and nudged him in the side. Really, Doctor? You’re using Christie titles even in your private thoughts now?

He bumped his hip into hers. Oh, come on. It’s fun.

“What are we going to do now, Dad?” Jenny asked as they jogged down the stairs.

Before the Doctor could answer, they heard a thud from the direction of the front lawn. Rose grabbed his hand, and the two of them took off down the stairs at a full run, letting Jenny, Donna, and Agatha trail after them.

The front door was open, letting the unseasonably warm air into the house. Just beyond the door, Miss Chandrakala was sprawled out on the gravel drive, pinned down by a stone gargoyle.

Agatha knelt down by the woman’s head just in time to hear her dying words. “The poor little child.”

Buzzing filled the air, and the Doctor spun away from the dead housekeeper, scanning the skies for the form he knew he would find. Where are you…

“There!” he shouted when he found the wasp, buzzing near the second storey windows. He took off back into the house, shouting, “Come on!” over his shoulder as he reached the door.

He hit the stairs at a run, and a moment later, he heard footsteps right behind him. “Always with the running,” Jenny panted as they went after the wasp.

The Doctor laughed as he grabbed onto the newel post and pivoted to the next flight of stairs.

“Yeah, but this makes a change,” Donna said. “There’s a monster, and we’re chasing it.”

“It can’t be a monster,” Agatha insisted. “It’s a trick. They Do it with Mirrors.”

Rose rolled her eyes when the author dropped the title of one of her future novels into the conversation. The Doctor grinned over at her.

It’s fun, Rose. You should try it.

Their teasing screeched to a halt when the wasp sting loomed in front of them.

“By all that’s holy,” Agatha murmured.

“I don’t see any mirrors here,” Jenny commented. Rose and Agatha both looked at her, but it was hard to tell if she was being cheeky, or just offering an innocent observation.

“Oh, but you are wonderful,” the Doctor rhapsodised as the wasp lowered itself into the corridor.

The giant insect slowly flew closer to them, and they backed up a step.

The Doctor held his hand out. “Now, just stop. Stop there.”

Instead, the wasp lunged at them, sting pointing directly at their faces. They all dove for cover, and it hit the wall just being where their heads had been, leaving a long gash in the wood and paint.

The Doctor looked up carefully, hoping the miss would convince the wasp to fly away. However, it appeared to be preparing for another strike, and the Doctor looked frantically around the hallway for something they could use to defend themselves.

Donna was a step ahead of him. “Oi, fly boy.” She held up the magnifying glass, and the wasp backed away, then turned around and buzzed down the hallway.

“Don’t let it get away!” The Doctor jumped to his feet and raced after it, and everyone else followed him. “Quick, before it reverts back to human form. Where are you? Come on.” He ran around a corner and stopped at the end of a long corridor. “There’s nowhere to run. Show yourself!”

Jenny reached his side just as every door opened. “Well, that didn’t help,” she muttered when each member of the party stuck their heads out into the corridor.

The Doctor scratched at his cheek. “No, it really didn’t,” he agreed.

Lady Eddison walked towards them from the opposite end of the hallway. “Is something the matter, Doctor?”

Rose met her ladyship halfway. “I’m afraid so, my lady. There’s been another murder.”

Lady Eddison covered her mouth with her handkerchief. “Oh, my word. What poor soul has been taken now?”

“Your housekeeper, Miss Chandrakala.”

Roger pushed past Rose to support his mother when she swayed in shock. “Is this really the right place to have this conversation?” he protested.

“Quite right, lad,” his father said. “Let’s take this to the drawing room so we can sit down. It’s almost time for pre-dinner drinks, anyway.”

Roger and Lady Eddison led the way, with the Doctor, Rose, Jenny, and Donna and bringing up the rear.

“So it was one of them, right?” Jenny asked quietly as they went downstairs. “The wasp couldn’t have gotten away?”

The Doctor shook his head. “That hallway dead ends at the master suite. There was no way out except through one of the rooms. And since someone appeared in every doorway, and no one screamed about a giant wasp flying through their room…”

“One of the guests, or Lady Eddison and her family, is an alien,” Donna concluded as the reached the drawing room.

“My faithful companion, this is terrible,” Lady Eddison moaned as she sank onto the couch. She pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, dabbing the tears away.

Davenport pushed Colonel Curbishley into the room, then addressed her ladyship. “Excuse me, my lady, but she was on her way to tell you something.”

Lady Eddison sniffed and shook her head. “She never found me. She had an Appointment with Death instead,” she sobbed.

The Doctor stood in front of the window and looked at the group. “She said, ‘the poor little child.’ Does that mean anything to anyone?”

Just like she had during their first round of interrogation, Rose watched people’s faces as the Doctor posed questions to the group. When he mentioned a child, Lady Eddison’s hand spasmed and she looked away from him, but her husband spoke before Rose could point that out to the Doctor.

“No children in this house for years,” the colonel said. “Highly unlikely there will be,” he added pointedly, casting a sidelong glance at his son, and the footman standing directly behind Roger.

Oh, not such a surprise where Roger’s interest lies after all, Rose mused.

Lady Eddison leaned towards Agatha, who was sitting just opposite her. “Mrs. Christie, you must have twigged something. You’ve written simply the best detective stories.”

Reverend Golightly looked at Agatha over steepled hands. “Tell us, what would Poirot do?”

Agatha looked back at him, then at the rest of the party, staring at her for answers. Her mouth opened and closed once, then she shrugged apologetically.

“Heaven’s sake,” the colonel blustered. “Cards on the Table, woman. You should be helping us.”

Agatha shook her head. “But, I’m merely a writer.”

Miss Redmond leaned towards her and put her hand on her knee. “But surely you can crack it. These events, they’re exactly like one of your plots.”

Donna nodded eagerly. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Agatha, that’s got to mean something.”

“But what?” Agatha countered. “I’ve no answers. None. I’m sorry, all of you.” Her shoulders slumped, and she hung her head. “I’m truly sorry, but I’ve failed. If anyone can help us, then it’s the Doctor and Mrs. Tyler, not me.”

All eyes shifted from Agatha to the Doctor and Rose, and the author took advantage of the momentary inattention to slip out of the room. Donna stood up. “I’ll go talk to her,” she told Rose quietly. “I understand what it’s like, feeling like I’ve failed at life.”

Rose nodded as the colonel and Lady Eddison both demanded answers of the Doctor.

“All right, that’s enough!” she said once Donna was gone. “I understand that you all want answers. You’re scared, of course—this whole day has played out like a Three Act Tragedy, and we’ve only seen the first two acts. But standing around demanding answers of the Doctor only keeps him from doing the actual work of solving the case. If you’ll all just please, go back to what you were doing before, I promise you we will give you any information we uncover.”

The party dispersed with minimal grumbling. As soon as they were alone, Rose smiled brightly at the Doctor. “You were right, Doctor. It is fun using her titles like that.”

His eyes were dark, and when Rose gave him a cheeky wink, he groaned and pulled her close. Bloody hell, you’re sexy when you’re being clever, he told her as he bent down to kiss her.

Rose slid her hands over his shoulders and linked them loosely behind his neck. That would be all the time then, right? she teased as she nibbled at his bottom lip.

He chuckled and pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. “Yes, absolutely,” he agreed.

oOoOoOoOo

Donna found Agatha sitting in a gazebo, her head bowed. Flowers were blooming around her, and for a moment, Donna was distracted by the wrongness of seeing roses in December. Then she set that thought aside to mention to the Doctor later.

She stared at the author for a moment, considering what words might convince her that she wasn’t a failure. All she knew of Agatha Christie… Ah. Yeah, that’ll work.

She sat down and waited for Agatha to look up, then said, “Do you know what I think? Those books of yours, one day they could turn them into films. They could be talking pictures.”

A frown creased Agatha’s forehead. “Talking pictures?” She shook her head. “Pictures that talk? What do you mean?”

Bloody hell, time travel is complicated. “Oh, blimey, I’ve done it again.” She’d been sure the switch to talkies happened in the Twenties, but apparently it hadn’t happened yet.

“I appreciate you trying to be kind, but you’re right.” Agatha sighed and stared off into space. “These murders are like my own creations. It’s as though someone’s mocking me, and I’ve had enough scorn for one lifetime.”

That was obviously a reference to her cheating husband, and disappointed love was a subject Donna actually felt fully qualified to talk about.

“Yeah. Thing is, I had this bloke once. I was engaged. And I loved him, I really did.” That was the hardest thing about what had happened. Learning Lance had been conspiring with an alien to poison her couldn’t erase the fact that she’d spent months in love with him. “Turns out he was lying through his teeth. But do you know what? I moved on. I was lucky,” she admitted. “I met the Doctor and Rose—it’s changed my life. There’s always something else.”

“I see.” There were tight lines around Agatha’s mouth. “Is my marriage the stuff of gossip now?”

“No, I just…” Donna suddenly realised how she would have felt if someone she didn’t know came up to her and started talking about Lance, like they knew the whole story. “Sorry.”

Agatha sighed and shook her head. “No matter. The stories are true. I found my husband with another woman. A younger, prettier woman. Isn’t it always the way?”

Donna shrugged. “Well, mine was with a giant spider, but, same difference.”

Agatha actually laughed, finally. “You all talk such wonderful nonsense.”

Donna ignored that. Tempting as it was to argue with the author on the subject of giant insects and arachnids, that wasn’t actually why she’d come after her.

“Agatha, people love your books,” she said, getting to the point finally. “They really do. They’re going to be reading them for years to come.”

Her words seemed to have the opposite effect of what she’d hoped. “If only,” Agatha scoffed. “Try as I might, it’s hardly great literature. No, that’s beyond me.” She drew herself up and took a deep breath. “I’m afraid my books will be forgotten, like ephemera.”

Donna was trying to think of something more encouraging to say when a glint of curiosity crossed the author’s face, and she tilted her head. “Hello, what’s that?” She got to her feet and pointed at a spot in the garden as she strode towards it. “Those flowerbeds were perfectly neat earlier. Now some of the stalks are bent over.” She crouched down in front of the damaged flowers and plucked a small leather case up off the ground.

“There you go,” Donna said. “Who’d ever notice that? You’re brilliant.”

Agatha tapped her fingers against the case. “I think, Miss Noble, that we need to take this to the Doctor and Rose.”

oOoOoOoOo

After everyone left the drawing room, the Doctor, Rose, and Jenny ended up in the small salon. The Doctor pulled the test tube of morphic residue out of his pocket once they were alone.

“I can at least use the sonic screwdriver to analyse this and get some kind of idea about where our murderer comes from,” he said, scanning it with the device as he talked.

“Who is Agatha Christie?” Jenny asked the Doctor and Rose while they waited for results.

Rose nodded at the Doctor, and he grinned and leaned forward in his chair. “One of the most celebrated novelists of all time,” he said. “She writes murder mysteries. Right now, she’s at the beginning of her career, but over the next fifty years, she’ll pen more than a hundred novels, plays, and short stories.”

“Oh,” Jenny said. “So that’s why Donna keeps pointing out how surprising it is that the author is caught in the middle of the kind of story she wrote.”

“Exactly,” Rose agreed. “But it’s happened to us twice, so it’s not really that surprising.”

The sonic beeped, and the Doctor checked the results. “Vespiform?” He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the arms. “Oh, you’re a long way from home.”

“How far?” Jenny asked.

The door to the sitting room opened before the Doctor could answer, and Agatha and Donna walked in, their eyes bright with excitement. “Doctor,” Agatha said, holding out a leather case, “I think I may have finally been of some use.”

“You know, Agatha,” the Doctor said as he took the case. “You should be easier on yourself. Murder is Easy; solving one is not.”

Rose pressed her lips together to hide her chuckle, and the Doctor winked at her as he flipped back the lid of the case. The first level was full of lock picking tools, and their private teasing was immediately forgotten.

“Ooo. Someone came here tooled up,” he said as he revealed the various levels of the tool case. “The sort of stuff a thief would use.”

Agatha put it together first. “The Unicorn. He’s here.”

The Doctor nodded. “The Unicorn and the wasp.”

Greeves entered the room with a tray. “Your drinks, ladies. Doctor.”

Rose handed Jenny the glass of Scotch they’d suggested she try, then took a sip of her sidecar from the tray. “Thank you, Greeves,” she said once everyone had their drink, and the butler nodded once before leaving the room.

“How about the science stuff?” Donna asked quietly. “What did you find?”

The Doctor pulled the test tube out of his pocket again and looked at the bright yellow goo while he sipped at his drink. “Vespiform sting. Vespiforms have got hives in the Silfrax galaxy.”

Agatha shook her head. “Again, you talk like Edward Lear.”

“But for some reason, this one’s behaving like a character in one of your books,” the Doctor said.

Donna kept talking to Agatha, something about Miss Marple, but Rose tuned it out as a faint sense that something was not right with the Doctor grew to fear as he quickly analysed his own body systems.

She set her drink down and moved to his left side while Jenny went to his right. His panic was obvious to both of them over their telepathic connection.

“Dad, are you all right?” Jenny asked. That finally got Donna’s attention, and she and Agatha stopped talking.

“No,” the Doctor said. “Something’s inhibiting my enzymes.” Pain twisted through Rose’s gut when he doubled over. “Argh! I’ve been poisoned.”

The Doctor’s face contorted, and he raised himself halfway out of his seat as his stomach clenched painfully. Feeling his agonising pain terrified Rose; she tended to see him as almost invincible, physically, though logically she knew he could be hurt.

Jenny looked from him to Rose. “We have to do something, Mum. What do we do?”

Agatha picked up his glass and sniffed. “Bitter almonds. It’s cyanide. Sparkling Cyanide.”

Anger slowly replaced Rose’s fear as she watched the Doctor stumble to his feet. Someone had poisoned her Doctor—had laced his drink with cyanide, expecting it would kill him. She pressed her lips together and wrapped an arm around his waist. They better hope she never found out who they were.

“Listen to Rose,” the Doctor gasped, before leaning more heavily on her.

Usually, his weight would be almost too much for her, but today, her protective anger gave her extra strength, and she shifted her stance and held him up easily. What do you need, Doctor?

Take me to the kitchen, he requested, trying to walk and barely managing it. Rose was practically carrying him to the back of the house. I can stimulate the inhibited enzymes into reversal.

Rose felt her shoulders relax slightly as some of her fear eased, but her anger was unrelenting. Whoever had poisoned the Doctor obviously hadn’t expected him to be able to fight the cyanide’s effect.

A moment later, they crashed through the kitchen doors. “Ginger beer,” the Doctor gasped, getting odd looks from the kitchen staff.

Davenport looked at him askance.“I beg your pardon?”

“I need ginger beer,” the Doctor repeated.

Rose spotted a brown bottle on the shelf and they half-ran, half-hobbled over to it.

“The gentleman’s gone mad,” the cook said as the Doctor took a swig of the beverage.

Rose hadn’t considered what the Doctor might want the ginger beer for, but watching him down half the bottle, she had to swallow back her instinctive protests. Ginger typically impaired a Time Lord’s abilities to safely process potentially hazardous substances. Drinking it when he’d been poisoned seemed counterintuitive, but if he claimed that in this instance it would help, she wouldn’t stop him.

But Agatha Christie would. “I’m an expert in poisons,” she said as he poured the rest of the bottle over his head. “Doctor, there’s no cure. It’s fatal.”

Rose’s vision went hazy for a moment with a tinge of gold. She’d been seething with helpless anger from the moment she’d realised the Doctor was in danger, and Agatha’s comments made her an easy target to lash out at.

“One measly attempt at poisoning him isn’t going to kill the Doctor,” she snarled as the Doctor spewed ginger beer onto the kitchen floor. “Now if you can’t say anything more useful, just stand out of the way!”

Agatha blinked, but she shut her mouth.

I need protein, the Doctor told Rose.

“Donna, Jenny, would you two hold him up?” As soon as they were standing on either side of the Doctor, Rose ran to the long counter that ran along the side of the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers.

Behind her, she could hear the Doctor panting as the pain got worse, and she grabbed onto the counter for a moment as it swept over her, too.

She spotted a jar of walnuts and sighed in relief. “Walnuts,” she cried out, scooping the jar up and spinning back around to the Doctor.

He nodded and shoved a handful into his mouth. Salt next, he told her as he chewed.

Rose nodded and turned back to the counter. What kind of salt? Her eyes landed on something, and she grabbed it and pushed it at the Doctor even as she wrinkled her nose. Anchovies. You’re not kissing me until you’ve brushed your teeth, she informed the Doctor.

Even though she knew it was necessary, her stomach still rebelled when he tipped the jar up and poured it straight into his mouth. One of the anchovies slipped down his chin onto the floor, and she gagged.

“Anything else, love?”

He nodded as he chewed. I need a shock.

Like an electrical shock? Rose turned in a circle, scanning the kitchen desperately for some source of electricity, but there really wasn’t much. The Doctor slumped against the work top, and Rose shoved her hands into her hair.

Donna reached out and put her hand on her shoulder. “What is it, Rose?”

“What does Dad need?”

Rose’s chest heaved as her breaths came faster and faster. “He says he needs a shock, but I don’t know how we’re going to do that because this is only nineteen twenty-six and it’s not like they had defibrillators lying around and oh God, Doctor, I’m not ready for you to regenerate yet.” She swiped angrily at the tears in her eyes.

Donna huffed and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Rose! Calm down!” she ordered. Her firm voice cut through some of Rose’s panic, and Donna smiled at her. “That’s better! Now, what can we use to shock him?”

A speculative look crossed her face, but before she could follow through on whatever idea had just crossed her mind, Jenny spoke up.

“Why don’t you just use your sonic screwdriver, Mum?”

Rose blinked. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of that—she even knew exactly what setting to use. Setting 1752 would extract the static electricity in the air so the sonic could act as a conduit, passing the charge into whatever the diode happened to be touching.

She pulled her sonic out of her handbag with shaking fingers as she spun around to look at the Doctor. He nodded frantically as she adjusted the setting, and she knew this was the right thing to do.

“Right,” she muttered as she pressed the device to his chest. “Let’s see if this works.” She depressed the button, and a second later, the Doctor’s muscles seized up.

How long, Doctor?

She needn’t have worried. After five seconds, he staggered back a few paces before tilting his head back and breathing out a long puff of grey, noxious smoke.

Immediately, the dread the Doctor had been projecting disappeared. “Detox!” he proclaimed cheerfully as he straightened up. “I should do that more often, actually.”

Rose ran a shaky hand through her hair, disrupting the carefully arranged curls. “Yeah, I’d rather not if you don’t mind,” she countered.

“Oh, but you were the best part, Rose Tyler.” The Doctor bounced on his toes and shot her an irrepressible smile. “I’ve always thought loving you struck me like a thunderbolt, but I never figured it would be such a literal thing.”

“Doctor, you are impossible,” Agatha said. “Who are you?”

Rose stared at her bond mate, torn between rolling her eyes at his ridiculous pun and running into his arms. She settled for a smile instead, though relief prompted a tiny giggle as well.

“Can’t you tell?” she asked, letting a cheeky smile creep over her face. “He’s The Man in the Brown Suit.”

The Doctor looked down at the ginger beer stains on his suit. “Speaking of, I think I need to get cleaned up before dinner. Donna, why don’t you and Jenny stay with Agatha? If the three of you talk, you might figure something out.”

Donna and Jenny both nodded, and the Doctor turned and held out his hand for Rose. She took it silently, and they walked back to the TARDIS in the fading daylight.

#ficandchips #ten x rose #dwfic #fic by Nancy #cq's fic: forever and never apart #donna noble #jenny #love their conversation in this chapter #love this chapter as a whole actually #hope you do too!

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