'There's still a glitch somewhere – the mainframe keeps registering the wrong ETAs,' the Doctor announced as he returned to the TARDIS with a newspaper, frowning at the date. It was a day before the coordinates he had entered. 'Probably some wires crossed in the processors, buggering up the input when I –'
His annoyed tirade came to an abrupt end as he lifted his eyes from the periodical and allowed them to fall upon his companion. Rose stood in the entrance to the console room, arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on her face.
'You went without me!' she accused lightly, though the words didn't immediately register.
The sleeveless, knee-high dress she'd found belonged to another era. A time where a girl with elfin eyes and a pixie's smile had begged him to let her attend a human secondary school. A girl who had accidently led two of her teachers back to the TARDIS. The TARDIS he had locked her out of because he had been so sure he had known what was best for her.
He swallowed.
As far as he was aware, anything that belonged to Susan should still be locked away along with her room. Not hanging in the wardrobe where he – where anyone – might stumble upon it.
'Doctor?' Rose's voice pulled him back from the momentary lapse, her annoyance laced with worry
'Where did you get that?' he asked, careful to keep his voice level.
'It was set out for me,' Rose answered, turning around to show off. She'd added knee-high boots to the ensemble, a choice that was purely hers; Susan had always preferred kid-slippers.
Stop it, he ordered himself.
'Does it look okay? I wasn't sure about the hair...'
'S'fine,' he grunted, barely glancing at the passable beehive she'd managed while sending the TARDIS a disgruntled message not to leave anymore of his companions' things out for Rose. They would invite questions – questions he didn't have it in him to answer. 'A bit more 1964 than 1963, but it'll do.'
'If anyone asks, I'll just say it's "all the rage" back home. You still went out without me.'
'Figured if I popped out to get my mugshot, we might spend more time exploring,' he replied lightly. 'Why cut the trip short on account of an assassination? Sort of makes everything a bit depressing, don't you agree? Not that I managed it, but still...'
'That what you're worried about? S'not exactly new, is it? I've seen dead bodies before, Doctor – some of 'em even got up and started walking about.'
'It's got nothing to do with your hardiness, Rose Tyler,' the Doctor rolled his eyes. 'But when you told me about those photos you saw, did you actually see yourself in 'em?'
'Well... no.'
'Which means you weren't there,' he finished. He didn't tell her that he really should have gone off and done all this without her.
'Oh.'
She went quiet for a moment.
Barely a second passed before she piped up, 'But I'm the one who knows where you've got to stand and get your pictures taken. What if you go to the wrong place, and then you don't get photographed and Clive never finds those photos? Then I won't ever track you down, Mickey won't get copied by an Auton and you won't stop the invasion in time. Oh, and I'll never save your life.'
She beamed at him expectantly, and he grinned back. 'Well done.'
'Yeah?'
'Except the part where all I have to do is this –'
He typed several commands into the TARDIS computer, searching her memory banks for all known images related to the Kennedy assassination.
' – and you can just as easily point out which picture I'm supposed to be in and I'll pose accordingly.'
Rose made a face. 'That's cheating.'
He snorted as she came to stand beside him and glanced at a collection of images. There weren't that many, thanks to the disc he had given Mickey to erase him from human public record. What extant ones remained came from UNIT and some other organisation he had never heard of –Driftwood or something ridiculous like that.
Rose's eyes strayed to one image in particular, suggesting that was the one her conspiracy theorist friend had showed her. 'Why aren't you already in the photo though?'
'Because I haven't done it yet.'
'But... these are from the future, right? All of time and space – wouldn't that mean you'd be in them already because you're going to be in them?'
'Nope – because I haven't done it yet in this moment that we're looking at them.'
'That makes... absolutely no sense.'
'It does to me.'
'Yeah, but you're a Time Lord.'
'Exactly.'
'Mental... every conversation...' she shook her head. 'All right, so we're a day early – does that mean we need to skip ahead to the right time?'
'Best not. Like I said, the TARDIS gets tetchy about close landings. We're here, may as well explore a bit.'
'Well, at least we can scope out where you're actually supposed to be standing so tomorrow you know what to do.'
'I hardly need a rehearsal, Rose. Being being seen in the crowd is a lot less complicated than most things we've done already.'
'Right,' Rose acknowledged. Then, she hooked her arm around his. 'Well, what are we waiting for?'
And he was dragged out the door by an enthusiastic teenager.
The TARDIS had landed in downtown Dallas, just near the edge of the business district. The weather was nice – brisk but sunny – and it was busy enough that people milled about everywhere, but not so congested that it was hard to get around. According to the newspaper vendor the Doctor had spoken with, it was coming up on four o'clock. The streets were as empty as they would get until the work day ended.
Busy or not, it was a different sort of crowd than what Rose was used to.
'Oh my God, it's like walking through a wall of hairspray and cigarette smoke!' she coughed as they crossed the street. 'And we're outside!'
'As you come from one of the most polluted cities of your time, that's saying something. No such thing as air quality control in 1963.'
'Or sense of smell, apparently.'
They strolled down the path of what would be the actual presidential motorcade route the next day while the Doctor explained about the various points of interest in Dallas.
As they turned onto Elm Street and wandered past the Texas School Book Depository, Rose remarked, 'So I never really understood the big deal about Kennedy. All I remember about him is he got shot and conspiracy nutters are always arguing about some "second shooter".'
'The education system in your time is absolute rot,' the Doctor grumbled, shouldering past a blond man in a grey pinstripe suit. 'No wonder you've no idea who your own Prime Minister is.'
'Oi, I missed a year!'
'And yet if I asked how David Beckham was wearing his hair?'
'I'm not answering that, just on principle. Besides, we're talking about Kennedy, not Becks.'
'We were, weren't we? Well, to be honest, he didn't do that much, comparatively speaking. He only staved off nuclear war with the Soviet Union, established the Peace Corps and supported a civil rights movement that would have far reaching consequences for people and aliens alike for the next five hundred years.'
'Oh, only?'
'Rather good speech maker, too, barring that doughnut comment.'
'Doughnuts and the Peace Corps, what's not to like?' Rose sniggered. 'All right, then, answer me this – if we're here anyway, why can't we just save him? When we were in Cardiff, you said time could be rewritten really easily. And, I mean, living gas creatures are a bit more unbelievable than the president surviving an assassination attempt, so why not keep him from dying?'
'Because it would cause a historical embolism so destructive it would erase countless important people from existence.'
'What? Why?'
'Too much happened because of his death. His survival would completely change history, not to mention seriously damage the universe if it didn't outright destroy it.'
'Okay,' she acknowledged. 'So was there one?'
'Was there one what?' he asked, distracted. He had the sudden yet distinct impression that of being followed.
'A second shooter?'
'Yup.'
'D'you know who it was?'
'Yeah, but you wouldn't've ever heard of him,' the Doctor dismissed. 'Some poor sod manipulated by circumstance and a bored Time Lord.'
'A bored Time Lord?'
'Not me – though I've been accused of the crime more than once – and we'll leave it at that.'
The feeling like they were being followed hadn't let up, and the Doctor surreptitiously placed himself between Rose and the direction from which that sense was emanating. It was best not to tell her yet, though, in case he was wrong.
Still, when they walked along the green space that would one day be known as the Grassy Knoll, he casually glanced behind them. It took little effort to recognise the blond man he had bumped into before and who was now following at a safe distance.
He was about to whirl around and introduce himself, when Rose piped up, 'Can we find a malt shop and get a milkshake? It is a malt shop, right? That's what they're called? Oh – wait, never mind, you don't have money.'
'I'm strapped for cash once and you figure I go around the universe consistently broke. How d'you imagine I got that newspaper?'
'Luck?'
'I do occasionally have the appropriate pocket change,' he scowled, considering reaching into his jacket for the sonic. It wouldn't be able to do much, considering the lack of technological interfaces during this time period.
But he could cause a minor traffic incident that would give him and Rose a chance to wander away.
No. Attempting to do that might cause whoever was following them to think he was reaching for a gun or something similar, and open fire. Primitive species did that a lot, and especially this particular tribe of them...
'... underneath the dryer lint, scuba mask and the rubber duck,' Rose was saying.
'The next time we're on Aqualon Four, you'll be mighty glad for that scuba mask,' he replied. He tried to calculate the odds of convincing Rose in the next thirty seconds that she would have to make a run for it.
Incredibly unlikely.
'I'll take your word for it,' Rose was chuckling. 'Scuba mask aside, can we get a milkshake?'
Oh well. Might as well figure out why they were being followed around anyhow, and this would be the fastest way.
'No.'
'Why not?'
'Because I have a hunch we're about to be arrested,' he told her.
'What?' Rose asked, confused. She looked away from the Doctor's face and up at the two men who were suddenly blocking their way. The blond man from before was cutting off their exit, and there was a car slowly pulling up behind. Instead of seeming worried, his companion simply sighed and let her shoulders drop. 'Again?'
· ΘΣ ·
Rose frowned and glanced down at her wrist, wishing she had something to keep time with. The men who had taken her and the Doctor hadn't left her with anything but the clothes on her back.
She felt eyes on her from beyond the one-way mirror situated across from her. Her inner clock couldn't tell her how many, but she was sure it had been hours since they had been escorted from Dealey Plaza.
"Escorted" was the politest term she might use. The minute she and the Doctor had been shoved into the car, they'd both been gagged and had black bags pulled over their heads. Neither had been removed until they arrived here.
Wherever "here" was.
She'd further lost track of time during the various bouts of interrogation they'd subjected her to. She didn't even have the Doctor to look to for support; they had been separated almost the minute they arrived.
Everyone who had interrogated her had seemed overly concerned with her lack of identification. They bombarded her with questions about why she and the Doctor were there and what they were doing. When Rose answered these as honestly and believably as possible, they'd gotten louder and angrier, only stopping short of physical violence.
There was a click as the door opened, revealing who Rose supposed was her latest interrogator. Mentally, she steeled her resolve and tried to affect nonchalance.
Never let them see you sweat, she coached herself.
The woman who entered was a stark contrast from the parade of brusque, bull-headed men that had been firing questions at her since Rose got here. She was young – several years older than Rose, and trying to appear more so, judging from the way she'd pulled her long brown hair tightly away from her face. It didn't work, though, considering her petite frame and the doe-brown eyes that studied Rose with more awareness than she liked.
She smiled at Rose even as she juggled files in one hand and a coffee cup in the other..
If there was one thing living on the Estate had taught Rose, it's that people who smiled like that – especially police – were usually after something.
And so, like any proper Estate girl, Rose leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms defiantly.
'Coffee?' the stranger asked brightly, taking a seat.
'No, ta, but you go right ahead.'
'I was hoping you'd say that. I missed supper.'
'So you're the good cop, then?' Rose offered conversationally. 'The ones before were supposed to scare me, and now you're gonna pretend to be my best friend? Cos that's a bit cliché, don't you think?'
'I'm Agent Kinross. You can call me Moira though.'
'Like we're old mates?'
'Exactly,' her smiled widened, and she put her cup back down; her fingers left ink smudges on it. 'So, what's your name?'
'Like you don't know? You lot've been listening outside the glass this whole time. Not exactly friendly.'
'You're a smart girl, Rose,' Kinross said, not even glancing at the files in front of her. There were probably notes on the interrogations of the past few hours. 'And you don't intimidate easily, or my colleagues would have gotten you to talk ages ago. So let's keep it simple, shall we? I'm sure I can have you out of here in a jiffy. Just explain how you and your boyfriend –'
'He's not my boyfriend.'
'Okay, your friend then... what's his name?'
'He didn't tell you?'
'He just kept saying he was the Doctor. We were hoping you might have something a little more... substantial.'
'That's his name.'
'So it's a codename. Is yours?'
Rose shot the woman an unimpressed look.
'All right. We'll come back to that. Now, if you would explain how two foreign nationals just happen to be walking along the exact route that tomorrow's presidential procession will follow–'
'Must've read it in the paper this morning. That stuff's public, innit? Least it is back home. Otherwise no one'd ever show up.'
'And where is home, exactly?'
'Isn't that in your notes there?'
'London, Powell Estate. Except according to our sources, no such place exists.'
Yet, Rose wanted to point out, but simply raised an eyebrow. It wasn't as if she could actually say that without sounding completely insane.
'Not a really convincing cover, if the place doesn't exist,' Kinross went on. 'And what about the fact our agents heard your... friend conversing about events to do with the president? I believe you mentioned a shooter?'
'I... I don't know what you're talking about...'
'Because it sounds to me, Rose, like you know something will happen. Before it's happened. And considering you and your friend also seemed to pop into existence out of nowhere? Something's not right there.'
Rose laughed nervously. 'Yeah, right, that's impossible.'
'We've been watching this block for weeks, and one of my associates watched you both walk out of an empty, dead-end ally. Do you have an explanation for that?'
'You're mental?'
'Maybe. But I've had a few experiences with what normal people would call insane,' Kinross said. She folded her hands and leaned forward. 'I'll be candid. I'm pretty sure you're some kind of mutated, genetically altered human. Possibly one with teleportation or time-travel abilities. Who knows what the Russians are cooking up these days?'
'Now you definitely sound insane.'
'Even if I am? I'm the one with the power to put you away for a very long time if you don't start being honest with me. Now what information do you have concerning tomorrow's presidential visit?' Her expression gentled and she leaned forward beseechingly. 'Come on, Rose, you don't want to spend your best years in a cell. Work with me. We might even save some lives.'
A sudden crash interrupted Rose's concern that she might have accidentally let something slip – something that might change the future the Doctor had told her had to occur.
Agent Kinross was on her feet, no doubt reaching for a weapon. She didn't get a chance before a familiar looking leather-clad arm reached out and touched her forehead with one long finger. She slumped to the ground.
'What – ?' Rose began, but was cut off when that same hand grabbed hers.
'Run!' the Doctor ordered. Her fingers wrapped around his before she consciously thought about it, and she let him pull her down the hall. 'Come on, this way!'
'How d'you know where we're going?!' she panted as they ran. 'We were blindfolded when we came in.'
'You humans, so unobservant – I memorised how many rights and lefts we took, didn't I?'
'Oh, of course!' Rose snarked as they hurried off.
It took a bit of luck and timing, but they managed the escape the nondescript office building before anyone raised the alarm. They didn't stop running until the Doctor was sure they had gotten far enough away and hadn't been followed.
That was the point when Rose finally wrenched her hand out of his and doubled over, panting. 'That was... fun... we should... do it again... sometime...'
'Escape from a secret agency or go on a midnight jaunt through the Texas suburbs?'
'... Both?'
'Guess I was wrong about the Deep South being a bad idea then.'
'Dunno... they're still... pretty alien...' she joked, straightening up. Her face felt flushed and she her blood pumped loudly in her ears. 'How'd you... do that? That thing... back there? Make her sleep?'
'With great difficulty. And trust me, I won't be doing it again.'
From the way he said trust me, Rose felt suspicious.
'You went into her head, didn't you?' she demanded. 'I thought you couldn't – You said you couldn't without permission –!'
'I didn't go into her head, I just suggested she was exhausted. Telepathically.'
'So, in her head.'
'Not the way you're thinking. It's more like hypnosis. I would've done it verbally, but we were in a hurry, and she might've shot me if I tried,' the Doctor explained. 'Don't much care for bullet wounds.'
Rose wanted to keep on the subject, but he looked so pale and pained, that she gave him a pass this once. Instead, she changed the subject. 'How'd you get out?'
'Got some luck with the third bloke who questioned me. He brought the sonic with him. Wouldn't let me touch it, but I talked him into accidentally activating a delayed blackout of any nearby security feeds before he left,' the Doctor explained. 'It took about ten minutes to happen, though.'
'Then what?'
'Picked the lock on the door, tracked down my effects before they could find me and came looking for you.'
'What'd you pick the lock with? They didn't leave me so much as a hairpin.'
'Got a paperclip off her when she came to interrogate me after we arrived.'
'They sent her to you first?'
'I'm sure it had something to do with human psychology – same reason you were probably interrogated by a bunch of Neanderthal brutes to begin with,' he posited. 'They see me travelling with a young woman and expect I'll be easily disarmed by another one. Because in this time period, they still think women are idiots.' The Doctor frowned, preoccupied with something. 'That Kinross woman's definitely not, though.'
'Oh! I've just remembered – Doctor, she knew. She somehow figured out that we were time travellers, and that we expect something's going to happen to the President. I swear, I didn't tell her anything, she just –'
'It's fine, Rose.'
'But you said if anything stopped it there'd be a... historical abolition –'
'Embolism.'
'Right – but won't they try to stop it? I mean, they're FBI or CIA or something – won't they go out of their way to protect the president if they think something's going to go wrong?'
'If they were the CIA, I've no doubt. But they weren't.'
'How d'you know?'
'Big important government agencies tend to have more people working there. Except for us and "Agent Kinross" and about four others, that place was empty.'
'So they just wanted us to think they were government? Why?'
'It's something to do with that woman, I think. Something about all this seems rather... personal.'
'She was really interested in what's going to happen tomorrow. Desperate, almost,' Rose mused aloud. 'Like, she needed me to confirm it or something? And she was talking about genetically mutated humans. Do those even exist right now?'
'Of course. That whole business about the drug induced haze of the sixties and seventies? Just the government covering up the things they couldn't explain. After that, they got better at hiding it.'
'So maybe she's genetically mutated – or knows someone who is and they warned her what's going to happen. But she can't do anything unless she has proof,' Rose mused, wild ideas springing up in her head. 'I mean, the government gets a million tips from crazy people every day, right? So she can't just call up the President and tell him to cancel his tour thing unless she's got evidence, right?' Her speech had been building in volume and excitement, but all of a sudden she quieted again and shrugged at the Doctor sheepishly. 'Sorry. Guess it sounds like the story from those stupid spy shows Mickey makes me watch... '
But the Doctor shook his head. 'Not at all. In fact, Rose Tyler, you are brilliant.'
'Really?'
'Couldn't have come up with a better idea. Well, I might've, but I like yours better.'
'What were you thinking?' she asked, curious.
'Nothing much – paramilitary, temporal agency, Zygons – but your idea fits her personality a bit better, I think. In any case, it makes our reason for being here more complicated.'
'Cos if they suspect we're here for something tomorrow, they're gonna be looking for us,' Rose realised. 'And we can't go away in the TARDIS and come back, can we? They'll always be around looking for us because they already know.'
'Exactly,' the Doctor declared with approval. 'Except for one thing.'
'Which is?'
'It's already tomorrow. We've got about eleven hours before the presidential procession.'
· ΔΩ ·
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