swordznsorcery (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
swordznsorcery) wrote2013-11-06 12:08 am
swordznsorcery) wrote2013-11-06 12:08 am
Entry tags:
The Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Ficathon
http://dw-50ficathon.livejournal.com/
Title: Under A Black Flag
Rating: U (Gen)
Word count: c. 2800
Warnings: None (that I can think of)
Summary: Pirates (and Eight and Grace)
Under A Black Flag
"Did I ever tell you about the time that I met Blackbeard? No?" Shifting the weight of the boy on her lap, she wrapped her arms about him, leaning forward towards his brother sitting cross-legged on the rug. The debris of their playtime was sprinkled across her reading room – three toy ships; a cascade of battered crew; a multitude of 'treasure', salvaged from her boxes of odds and ends. It all seemed strangely in keeping with the room's regular ornamentation; the books and the microscopes and the medical paraphernalia – modern, historic and from rather further afield. This was her favourite room, lit by bright, warm lights glancing through the test-tubes, given atmosphere by the human skeleton on its stand, by the strangely untarnished fossils, by so many other decorations gathered in an eventful life. It was their favourite room as well, her two young great-nephews, always ready for a story, always anxious for adventure. Here, surrounded by books and trinkets that hinted at fabulous journeys, she told her tales to the only audience that would ever listen. The only audience ever likely to believe.
"It was November," she told them, and felt young Mark, on her lap, relaxing into the narrative almost immediately. "I remember because it had just been Hallowe'en, and the Doctor arrived at my door with a mask on. Of course he'd intended to come the week before, but he'd got things muddled slightly. Just like always, forever a week, or a month, or a year or more later than he intends. Anyway, he asked if it was a good time for an adventure, and I didn't have any plans for that evening, so I said yes."
"Yes please," corrected Mark, very quietly. She laughed.
"Of course. Thank you. That's exactly what I said. So I put down my book, and I locked my door, and off we went to the Doctor's ship."
"Which is bigger on the inside than the outside!" provided Nathan, from the rug. She nodded.
"Precisely. Well, just like always, he asked me if there was anywhere I especially wanted to go. Backwards, forwards, anywhere-wards. And I had just been reading a book about the history of Naval surgery, so I thought it might be nice to see the sea, and some sailing ships. The Doctor agreed, and off we went. Back nearly three hundred years, just like that." She snapped her fingers with the sound of a pistol shot. In truth it hadn't happened anywhere near so fast, but the boys had no interest in hearing of her reunion with the Doctor – and she had no intention of telling them. "We were supposed to land in Bristol, which was a very important British sailing port in those days, so that we could see the ships unloading on the docks, but instead we found ourselves in the hold of one of the ships. And we weren't anywhere near Bristol. We were at sea, in the Caribbean."
"Were you keelhauled as stowaways?" asked Nathan immediately, with a child's eye for the gruesome. She laughed again.
"No, although it did all take some explaining. Fortunately the Doctor is usually very good at that; and he has something for every occasion in his wardrobe, so I didn't end up on deck in my old college sweatshirt. That might have needed a bit more explaining. So there we were, on the deck of this magnificent sailing ship, just like I'd wanted, with huge white sails billowing above us, and the most incredible blue sea. And then, over to the north, where some little islands lay, we saw another sail. And above it was a small, black flag."
"The skull and crossbones?" asked Mark, in a whisper. She shook her head.
"Blackbeard didn't sail under the skull and crossbones. He had his own flag, with a skeleton holding a spear. Not that we could see that just yet, as it was too far away. We all knew what a black flag was likely to mean though, and suddenly the whole place erupted. There were people rushing here and there, trying to make the ship go as quickly as it could; but the other ship was just too fast, and very soon it had caught us up. Everybody was set to fight, when suddenly, at the prow of the oncoming ship, we saw a man. A big man, with a big, black beard, all braided up with brightly coloured ribbons. He had a long, scarlet coat, and he was carrying the biggest sword you ever saw, and he had pistols all around his belt. When the captain of our ship saw that man, he turned as white as plaster, and told us that there was no sense in fighting. And that was when I met Blackbeard."
"What happened?" asked Nathan, looking alarmed, as though he feared the story might end there. She smiled.
"Well, he came aboard with most of his crew; and of course, like most people, he seemed most interested in the Doctor. And in me I'm afraid, as the clothes the Doctor had found for me must have once belonged to quite a rich lady. He was dressed like usual, in his waistcoat and cravat, so he looked like quite a rich man, I suppose. Blackbeard probably thought we were worth a lot of money."
"You are," said Mark immediately, and she gave him a brief hug.
"Well thank you. But I don't think he would have thought very much of whatever money I had on me, especially given the date written on it. Anyway, he ordered his crew to empty the hold, and he set about trying to find out who we were." She smiled faintly, her eyes half closing as she called to mind the image of the Doctor, all windblown curls and bright eyes, facing off against the towering, bushy-haired, legendary devil of the seas. It had been a sight not easily forgotten.
"He planned to ransom us, which was a bit unfortunate. All my relatives were three hundred years in the future – the ones that I know about anyway. Not that I told Blackbeard that. He took us aboard his ship, and gave us a very nice cabin, and told us that he'd let us go as soon as he'd been paid."
"Didn't he threaten to make you walk the plank?" asked Nathan, with what sounded a little like disappointment. Once again she could not help but laugh.
"No. Actually he was very polite. He did tell us we'd see another side of him if we tried to escape, but of course we had to. We couldn't very well sail off to goodness knows where, when the TARDIS was left behind on the other ship."
"You mean the pirates didn't steal it?" asked Mark. She shook her head.
"No they didn't, not exactly, which is part of what saved us. They found it of course, but they couldn't open it, and the men they had sent down into the hold weren't able to lift it. Nobody on the first ship had a clue what it was, and it wasn't listed as cargo. And so obviously somebody eventually thought to come and ask us. By then we'd been shut up for several hours, and the pirates were getting jumpy. Those were busy shipping lanes, and we'd been sitting there for a long time, going nowhere. It was a little tense. The crew of the first ship were all trussed up, and there were swords and pistols and muskets everywhere you looked. These two gigantic pirates, with gold rings in their ears, and on their fingers, and probably on their toes as well, hauled the Doctor in front of Blackbeard, and Blackbeard asked him if the strange box in the hold was his. I don't suppose the Doctor even thought about lying. Actually I think he was rather enjoying himself."
"Weren't you scared?" asked Mark, his voice a breathless whisper. She feigned indifference, which was by no means what she had been feeling at the time.
"Oh, you're never afraid with the Doctor. Well, almost never. Anyway, Blackbeard told him that he had to open the box, or he'd be cut open and thrown to the sharks. And the Doctor, with the biggest of smiles, said that he was absolutely delighted, because he didn't think pirates actually said that kind of thing in real life." She dropped her voice, the better to conjure thrills, and make the two little boys shiver in excitement. "All around us, the pirates closed in. Big ones and bigger ones, and Blackbeard the biggest of all. Every single one of them was armed to the teeth, with swords and scimitars and cutlasses and knives, and not forgetting the guns besides. And Blackbeard leaned in close, with his huge black beard bristling with ribbons, and he said to the Doctor:
"'Do not think me a joke, sir.'
"Well, the Doctor looked up at Blackbeard – and he had to look up quite some way, because the Doctor isn't a big man – and very quietly, and very calmly, he said: 'I do not. And you will kindly do me the same courtesy.' They looked at each other like that for several seconds, and you could have heard a pin drop, for all the sea and the pirates and the other crew gathered around. And then, after a moment, Blackbeard nodded. I suppose he saw something in the Doctor that we all see, if we're lucky enough to meet him."
"But what happened?" asked Mark, whose eyes were now as wide as TARDIS roundels. She smiled.
"The pirates were all for shooting us, but Blackbeard wanted to know what was in the blue box. By then they'd tried cutting it, and shooting it, and even setting fire to it, but they hadn't left so much as a scratch. And he, being the great, feared, treasure hunter of the sea, couldn't stand to leave without knowing. One of the pirates threatened to kill me if the Doctor didn't talk, and the Doctor smiled at him much as he had just smiled at Blackbeard, and said that he might find that a bit harder than he thought. I wasn't quite as sure, but it wasn't the time to argue. Especially since by then I had a sword at my throat."
"Were you scared then?" asked Nathan, who, for all that he was older than Mark, and liked to appear more worldly-wise, now had eyes wide enough to rival his brother's. She frowned, as though in thought.
"Well, maybe a little. But it was a very nice sword. The blade was really beautiful."
"What did you do?" asked Mark. She hesitated then. The truth – that she had utilised her old self-defence skills learned in college, and had stamped on the pirate's foot and then kneed him in the groin – might be a bit too much to let on. Instead she chose to skirt around the issue.
"Look behind you," she said, and Mark turned his head to where, in the darker shadows of the room, where the lamplight and the gleam of the fire did not quite reach, there was a sword hanging from the wall. A grand, buccaneering sort of a sword, with a curved blade etched with images of entwining sea serpents. "I... disarmed him," she clarified, rather pleased with her understatement. "And then I pointed the sword at Blackbeard, and told him to leave. He thought it was quite funny, and he told his men to put their weapons away. It was good of him really. The Doctor and I could have been shot twenty times over before I got anywhere near him with that sword. Not that I was really planning to try."
"But it was Blackbeard!" objected Nathan, with a child's innate sense of justice – not to mention a resurgence of his child's innate love of gore. She raised an eyebrow.
"And I'm a doctor. The only stabbing I do is with a scalpel. Besides, the Doctor would have been furious. That's not how the history books tell us that Blackbeard died."
"You can't change history, silly," said Mark, and earned a glare.
"He's the bad guy," grumbled Nathan. His great-aunt nodded, her greying hair glinting in the firelight.
"So he is. But not a cruel man, at least that I saw. He gave me a very gallant bow, and said that if I ever fancied a change of career, he'd find me a berth aboard his ship. Which made the Doctor laugh. Then Blackbeard sad that if the Doctor would open the box for him, he'd let us all go. Well, the Doctor could hardly refuse then, but he wasn't going to trust the pirates, so he had the TARDIS brought up on deck and transferred to the pirate ship. It took almost the entire pirate crew, with some of the other ship's crew as well, to move it. Nobody could understand how it had got on board in the first place, never mind secretly. Eventually we got it across though, and down into the pirate's hold. Then Blackbeard ordered the other ship cut loose, and off it went.
"That was all very well of course, but then the Doctor had to keep his promise to open the box. He told Blackbeard that he would open it only for him, so the three of us went down into the hold. And what a hold! You wouldn't believe the chests and the barrels and the bars of gold bullion. Some historians say that the legend of Blackbeard's treasure is nonsense, but I've seen it. And it's never been found, so you should always keep your eyes open. There's no telling where it might have ended up. Anyway, the Doctor said that he needed my help to open the TARDIS, so we were both close together by the door; and when the Doctor opened it, quick as a flash we jumped in, closed the doors again, and flew away, leaving Blackbeard with his treasure. And that is the story of how I met Blackbeard the pirate."
"He must have thought you were magicians," said Nathan. She nodded.
"I suppose he must. Goodness knows what he told his crew. Anyway, the Doctor brought me back home, just like he always does, which is where that story ends." She gave the sleepy boy on her lap a little nudge. "And now I think it's time that my two favourite pirates were off to bed." There was an assortment of predictable grumblings.
"Can we have another story tomorrow night?" asked Mark. She nodded.
"I don't see why not. You're here for the rest of the weekend, and there's no shortage of stories. Go along now. Bed." They left, a mixture of yawning and complaint, and she smiled as she watched them traipse up the stairs. She knew her family thought it a shame that she had never settled down and started a family; that she had chosen her career instead of having children of her own. At moments such as this she could almost agree - but moments pass quickly. Whatever unexpected twists and turns her life had taken, whatever plans she might once have had, she could not imagine that the dream could have bettered the reality. How many others could save lives as a day job, and then fight pirates with their best friend after hours?
With a smile she turned from the stairway and went back to her reading room, leaning down to give the fire an extra log. It spat contentedly, and she watched it for a while before returning to her chair. The warm, yellow-orange light danced a little brighter, highlighting the mementoes of her double life. Her choices had always been good ones. Not only did she have the fulfilment of her career, but so much else besides. No husband, perhaps, but instead a certain gentleman caller, who arrived at her door with charming irregularity, and brought all of time and space with him in a box. Not that his visits were always about travel. Just as often there were quiet dinner dates or walks in the park; some of which, every once in a while, even managed to end in something other than hair-raising adventure. If she had made any sacrifices along the way, in order that that life should continue, then they were not so very great. To her mind they were barely sacrifices at all. It was a fine life, and a fun life, and she didn't regret a moment of it. For as long as it continued, she knew that she never would.
Title: Under A Black Flag
Rating: U (Gen)
Word count: c. 2800
Warnings: None (that I can think of)
Summary: Pirates (and Eight and Grace)
"Did I ever tell you about the time that I met Blackbeard? No?" Shifting the weight of the boy on her lap, she wrapped her arms about him, leaning forward towards his brother sitting cross-legged on the rug. The debris of their playtime was sprinkled across her reading room – three toy ships; a cascade of battered crew; a multitude of 'treasure', salvaged from her boxes of odds and ends. It all seemed strangely in keeping with the room's regular ornamentation; the books and the microscopes and the medical paraphernalia – modern, historic and from rather further afield. This was her favourite room, lit by bright, warm lights glancing through the test-tubes, given atmosphere by the human skeleton on its stand, by the strangely untarnished fossils, by so many other decorations gathered in an eventful life. It was their favourite room as well, her two young great-nephews, always ready for a story, always anxious for adventure. Here, surrounded by books and trinkets that hinted at fabulous journeys, she told her tales to the only audience that would ever listen. The only audience ever likely to believe.
"It was November," she told them, and felt young Mark, on her lap, relaxing into the narrative almost immediately. "I remember because it had just been Hallowe'en, and the Doctor arrived at my door with a mask on. Of course he'd intended to come the week before, but he'd got things muddled slightly. Just like always, forever a week, or a month, or a year or more later than he intends. Anyway, he asked if it was a good time for an adventure, and I didn't have any plans for that evening, so I said yes."
"Yes please," corrected Mark, very quietly. She laughed.
"Of course. Thank you. That's exactly what I said. So I put down my book, and I locked my door, and off we went to the Doctor's ship."
"Which is bigger on the inside than the outside!" provided Nathan, from the rug. She nodded.
"Precisely. Well, just like always, he asked me if there was anywhere I especially wanted to go. Backwards, forwards, anywhere-wards. And I had just been reading a book about the history of Naval surgery, so I thought it might be nice to see the sea, and some sailing ships. The Doctor agreed, and off we went. Back nearly three hundred years, just like that." She snapped her fingers with the sound of a pistol shot. In truth it hadn't happened anywhere near so fast, but the boys had no interest in hearing of her reunion with the Doctor – and she had no intention of telling them. "We were supposed to land in Bristol, which was a very important British sailing port in those days, so that we could see the ships unloading on the docks, but instead we found ourselves in the hold of one of the ships. And we weren't anywhere near Bristol. We were at sea, in the Caribbean."
"Were you keelhauled as stowaways?" asked Nathan immediately, with a child's eye for the gruesome. She laughed again.
"No, although it did all take some explaining. Fortunately the Doctor is usually very good at that; and he has something for every occasion in his wardrobe, so I didn't end up on deck in my old college sweatshirt. That might have needed a bit more explaining. So there we were, on the deck of this magnificent sailing ship, just like I'd wanted, with huge white sails billowing above us, and the most incredible blue sea. And then, over to the north, where some little islands lay, we saw another sail. And above it was a small, black flag."
"The skull and crossbones?" asked Mark, in a whisper. She shook her head.
"Blackbeard didn't sail under the skull and crossbones. He had his own flag, with a skeleton holding a spear. Not that we could see that just yet, as it was too far away. We all knew what a black flag was likely to mean though, and suddenly the whole place erupted. There were people rushing here and there, trying to make the ship go as quickly as it could; but the other ship was just too fast, and very soon it had caught us up. Everybody was set to fight, when suddenly, at the prow of the oncoming ship, we saw a man. A big man, with a big, black beard, all braided up with brightly coloured ribbons. He had a long, scarlet coat, and he was carrying the biggest sword you ever saw, and he had pistols all around his belt. When the captain of our ship saw that man, he turned as white as plaster, and told us that there was no sense in fighting. And that was when I met Blackbeard."
"What happened?" asked Nathan, looking alarmed, as though he feared the story might end there. She smiled.
"Well, he came aboard with most of his crew; and of course, like most people, he seemed most interested in the Doctor. And in me I'm afraid, as the clothes the Doctor had found for me must have once belonged to quite a rich lady. He was dressed like usual, in his waistcoat and cravat, so he looked like quite a rich man, I suppose. Blackbeard probably thought we were worth a lot of money."
"You are," said Mark immediately, and she gave him a brief hug.
"Well thank you. But I don't think he would have thought very much of whatever money I had on me, especially given the date written on it. Anyway, he ordered his crew to empty the hold, and he set about trying to find out who we were." She smiled faintly, her eyes half closing as she called to mind the image of the Doctor, all windblown curls and bright eyes, facing off against the towering, bushy-haired, legendary devil of the seas. It had been a sight not easily forgotten.
"He planned to ransom us, which was a bit unfortunate. All my relatives were three hundred years in the future – the ones that I know about anyway. Not that I told Blackbeard that. He took us aboard his ship, and gave us a very nice cabin, and told us that he'd let us go as soon as he'd been paid."
"Didn't he threaten to make you walk the plank?" asked Nathan, with what sounded a little like disappointment. Once again she could not help but laugh.
"No. Actually he was very polite. He did tell us we'd see another side of him if we tried to escape, but of course we had to. We couldn't very well sail off to goodness knows where, when the TARDIS was left behind on the other ship."
"You mean the pirates didn't steal it?" asked Mark. She shook her head.
"No they didn't, not exactly, which is part of what saved us. They found it of course, but they couldn't open it, and the men they had sent down into the hold weren't able to lift it. Nobody on the first ship had a clue what it was, and it wasn't listed as cargo. And so obviously somebody eventually thought to come and ask us. By then we'd been shut up for several hours, and the pirates were getting jumpy. Those were busy shipping lanes, and we'd been sitting there for a long time, going nowhere. It was a little tense. The crew of the first ship were all trussed up, and there were swords and pistols and muskets everywhere you looked. These two gigantic pirates, with gold rings in their ears, and on their fingers, and probably on their toes as well, hauled the Doctor in front of Blackbeard, and Blackbeard asked him if the strange box in the hold was his. I don't suppose the Doctor even thought about lying. Actually I think he was rather enjoying himself."
"Weren't you scared?" asked Mark, his voice a breathless whisper. She feigned indifference, which was by no means what she had been feeling at the time.
"Oh, you're never afraid with the Doctor. Well, almost never. Anyway, Blackbeard told him that he had to open the box, or he'd be cut open and thrown to the sharks. And the Doctor, with the biggest of smiles, said that he was absolutely delighted, because he didn't think pirates actually said that kind of thing in real life." She dropped her voice, the better to conjure thrills, and make the two little boys shiver in excitement. "All around us, the pirates closed in. Big ones and bigger ones, and Blackbeard the biggest of all. Every single one of them was armed to the teeth, with swords and scimitars and cutlasses and knives, and not forgetting the guns besides. And Blackbeard leaned in close, with his huge black beard bristling with ribbons, and he said to the Doctor:
"'Do not think me a joke, sir.'
"Well, the Doctor looked up at Blackbeard – and he had to look up quite some way, because the Doctor isn't a big man – and very quietly, and very calmly, he said: 'I do not. And you will kindly do me the same courtesy.' They looked at each other like that for several seconds, and you could have heard a pin drop, for all the sea and the pirates and the other crew gathered around. And then, after a moment, Blackbeard nodded. I suppose he saw something in the Doctor that we all see, if we're lucky enough to meet him."
"But what happened?" asked Mark, whose eyes were now as wide as TARDIS roundels. She smiled.
"The pirates were all for shooting us, but Blackbeard wanted to know what was in the blue box. By then they'd tried cutting it, and shooting it, and even setting fire to it, but they hadn't left so much as a scratch. And he, being the great, feared, treasure hunter of the sea, couldn't stand to leave without knowing. One of the pirates threatened to kill me if the Doctor didn't talk, and the Doctor smiled at him much as he had just smiled at Blackbeard, and said that he might find that a bit harder than he thought. I wasn't quite as sure, but it wasn't the time to argue. Especially since by then I had a sword at my throat."
"Were you scared then?" asked Nathan, who, for all that he was older than Mark, and liked to appear more worldly-wise, now had eyes wide enough to rival his brother's. She frowned, as though in thought.
"Well, maybe a little. But it was a very nice sword. The blade was really beautiful."
"What did you do?" asked Mark. She hesitated then. The truth – that she had utilised her old self-defence skills learned in college, and had stamped on the pirate's foot and then kneed him in the groin – might be a bit too much to let on. Instead she chose to skirt around the issue.
"Look behind you," she said, and Mark turned his head to where, in the darker shadows of the room, where the lamplight and the gleam of the fire did not quite reach, there was a sword hanging from the wall. A grand, buccaneering sort of a sword, with a curved blade etched with images of entwining sea serpents. "I... disarmed him," she clarified, rather pleased with her understatement. "And then I pointed the sword at Blackbeard, and told him to leave. He thought it was quite funny, and he told his men to put their weapons away. It was good of him really. The Doctor and I could have been shot twenty times over before I got anywhere near him with that sword. Not that I was really planning to try."
"But it was Blackbeard!" objected Nathan, with a child's innate sense of justice – not to mention a resurgence of his child's innate love of gore. She raised an eyebrow.
"And I'm a doctor. The only stabbing I do is with a scalpel. Besides, the Doctor would have been furious. That's not how the history books tell us that Blackbeard died."
"You can't change history, silly," said Mark, and earned a glare.
"He's the bad guy," grumbled Nathan. His great-aunt nodded, her greying hair glinting in the firelight.
"So he is. But not a cruel man, at least that I saw. He gave me a very gallant bow, and said that if I ever fancied a change of career, he'd find me a berth aboard his ship. Which made the Doctor laugh. Then Blackbeard sad that if the Doctor would open the box for him, he'd let us all go. Well, the Doctor could hardly refuse then, but he wasn't going to trust the pirates, so he had the TARDIS brought up on deck and transferred to the pirate ship. It took almost the entire pirate crew, with some of the other ship's crew as well, to move it. Nobody could understand how it had got on board in the first place, never mind secretly. Eventually we got it across though, and down into the pirate's hold. Then Blackbeard ordered the other ship cut loose, and off it went.
"That was all very well of course, but then the Doctor had to keep his promise to open the box. He told Blackbeard that he would open it only for him, so the three of us went down into the hold. And what a hold! You wouldn't believe the chests and the barrels and the bars of gold bullion. Some historians say that the legend of Blackbeard's treasure is nonsense, but I've seen it. And it's never been found, so you should always keep your eyes open. There's no telling where it might have ended up. Anyway, the Doctor said that he needed my help to open the TARDIS, so we were both close together by the door; and when the Doctor opened it, quick as a flash we jumped in, closed the doors again, and flew away, leaving Blackbeard with his treasure. And that is the story of how I met Blackbeard the pirate."
"He must have thought you were magicians," said Nathan. She nodded.
"I suppose he must. Goodness knows what he told his crew. Anyway, the Doctor brought me back home, just like he always does, which is where that story ends." She gave the sleepy boy on her lap a little nudge. "And now I think it's time that my two favourite pirates were off to bed." There was an assortment of predictable grumblings.
"Can we have another story tomorrow night?" asked Mark. She nodded.
"I don't see why not. You're here for the rest of the weekend, and there's no shortage of stories. Go along now. Bed." They left, a mixture of yawning and complaint, and she smiled as she watched them traipse up the stairs. She knew her family thought it a shame that she had never settled down and started a family; that she had chosen her career instead of having children of her own. At moments such as this she could almost agree - but moments pass quickly. Whatever unexpected twists and turns her life had taken, whatever plans she might once have had, she could not imagine that the dream could have bettered the reality. How many others could save lives as a day job, and then fight pirates with their best friend after hours?
With a smile she turned from the stairway and went back to her reading room, leaning down to give the fire an extra log. It spat contentedly, and she watched it for a while before returning to her chair. The warm, yellow-orange light danced a little brighter, highlighting the mementoes of her double life. Her choices had always been good ones. Not only did she have the fulfilment of her career, but so much else besides. No husband, perhaps, but instead a certain gentleman caller, who arrived at her door with charming irregularity, and brought all of time and space with him in a box. Not that his visits were always about travel. Just as often there were quiet dinner dates or walks in the park; some of which, every once in a while, even managed to end in something other than hair-raising adventure. If she had made any sacrifices along the way, in order that that life should continue, then they were not so very great. To her mind they were barely sacrifices at all. It was a fine life, and a fun life, and she didn't regret a moment of it. For as long as it continued, she knew that she never would.
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The framing device of the story was well done, and Nathan and Mark's interjections were very believable.
I really like that you mentioned that Eight isn't a big man, because I've read several fics (and published novels...) where he's described as tall and all I can think is, "No! They had to stand McGann on a box!"
Also, the final bit where Grace confirms that her life is happy and filled with friends, and family, and work, and adventure is very satifying.
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My take on the relationship between Eight and Grace has been greatly influenced by the comic strips in Doctor Who Magazine. I don't know if you followed them at the time (they ran from 1996-2005), but they frequently hinted at a long distance, ongoing relationship between the two of them. Grace made occasional appearances in the strips, and I liked how the story built upon what we saw in the film.
If you like Eight, I strongly recommend them; they're available in collected volumes, and I consider some of the stories included to be amongst the best Doctor Who adventures written.
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I smile at the thought of her continuing to have adventures with the Doctor!! What a lovely pair the two of them make!!
And this? This was perfect...thank you again...
*HUGS*
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