Child of Nowhere

The Doctor and Terra Dance

"Go to your room."

Those words might as well have been gospel from the heavens. My hearts were going fast paced as one of the patients had been just within touching range. I had shut my eyes, trying to trick myself as to be anywhere else but here. It wasn't working, though it didn't stop me from trying.

One of my eyes slowly opened. My hearts beat just a bit faster seeing them all stand too close. My fight-or-flight instincts were telling me to runrunrunthefuckoutofhere. I realized I was being an idiot. They weren't even really zombies, it was just a bunch of adults in a really FUCKING creepy setting saying a fucking creepy line.

"Go to your room." The Doctor repeated. "I mean it. I'm very, very angry with you. I am very, very cross. Go to your room!"

My other eye eased open. The patients were sulking back to their beds, their 'rooms'. I took in a breath I hadn't even known I was holding in. They weren't proper zombies, they were people full of nanogenes. I'm ridiculous. I am official the most ridiculous person in this room, and the Doctor exists.

"I'm really glad that worked. Those would have been terrible last words." He turned a side eye at me. "Though not as bad as your shouting at me."

"I was a little nervous." I admitted. My hands slipped into my hoodie pocket. "Zombies freak me out, okay?"

The Doctor kept up his grin. Does he know that I am all for slapping his face? "Zombies? Really?"

"Shut it. I bet if zombies came after you, you'd go screaming like a b-baby." I warned. Oh, I had been so close to calling him a bitch. Still am, actually.

My half swear just made him smile wider.

Rose and Jack had wondered off during our conversation. Jack had gone to Constantine's chair, propping his legs up on the desk. Rose was going to the patients, looking closely at their masks.

"Why are they all wearing gas masks?" Rose asked, her heart slowing down to normal.

"They're not." Jack stated. "Those masks are flesh and bone."

"Jack, explain to me how this con was supposed to go." I ordered. If Magoo did it, I don't think he'd say it kindly this go around.

Jack shrugged thoughtfully. "Simple enough, really." I walked up to his table, sitting beside him. "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!"

He glanced to the Doctor, who hadn't stopped giving him the evil eye since Jack started talking. I paid attention to his words, though. A formality, but Jack was still a friend (or at least would be).

"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." Jack explained. I'll admit, it had some good points. "I buy him a drink with his own money, and we discuss dumb luck. The perfect self-cleaning con."

"No wonder it messed up." I stated, sitting up. "You never say anything is fool proof. That's when it stops being foolproof."

Jack was about to give me an annoyed look, but it changed to an amused grin. "Fair point." He chuckled.

The Doctor was giving me the evil eye now.

"The London Blitz is great for self-cleaners. Pompeii's nice if you want to make a vacation of it though, but you've got to set your alarm for volcano day." Jack laughed. I glared angrily, reminded of Fires of Pompeii. "Getting a hint of disapproval."