Fayth (faythbrady) wrote,

  • Music:

Fic- Go On

Go On
Title- Go on 6
Author- Fayth
Show- Doctor Who
Genre- Angst
Pairing- Mentions 9/Rose.
Spoilers- The Girl in the fireplace.
Rating- PG-ESQUE
Summary- Trying to escape and deal with things better left unsaid. The Doctor and Rose get closer to freedom


Go on 6

Down in the basement Rose had carved hand-holds into the soft wall and dug her toes into the lower holes. She hoisted herself off the floor, clinging to the mud walls.

“You look like you’re abseiling,” Mickey remarked, not sure what she was doing. “Climbing the walls is meant to be one of them things… metaphors, yeah. Not literal.”

Rose looked over her shoulder at him in surprise. “’ark at you. Sound dead clever, you do.”

Mickey smiled and shuffled his feet at the teasing in her voice. “Seriously though, what are you doing?”

“Guards at the doors, no exit out back, no way down. Where else is there?”

Mickey followed her gaze. “Oh, you’re kidding.”

Rose dug her toes harder into the little niche as she reached the ceiling tiles. Using her shoulder as a battering ram she banged at the slats covering the ceiling and grinned in triumph as they shifted slightly. Mickey moved to secure her feet and Rose was able to use all her strength to push at the thin slats. One rocked in its place and she slammed it again and again, ignoring the pain in her wrist as she smacked it against the hard material. The slat swung and slammed back in place but Rose had seen that it was only held on in one place.

Gritting her teeth Rose curled her hand into a fist and punched at the weak point. She heard her knuckles crack and had to bite back a yell of pain as she punched it again and something in her hand snapped.

But that time had done the trick and the slat could be moved. She used her other hand to hoist it out of its place and shuffle it along so that there was a hole in the ceiling.

She grabbed both edges and pulled herself into the ceiling cavity, swinging her body up and in with all the grace of a junior
Jericho school gymnastics champion. Once inside she held her hands out for Mickey to follow her up.

With a cheeky smile Mickey followed her up into the crawlspace.

There was only enough room for them to creep on hands and knees and Rose positioned the slat back in place before they turned and crawled along, dodging cables and wires as they went.

“Where’d’ya think we’ll come out?” Mickey whispered, taking care to put his knees on the support struts and not on the flimsier tiles.

“No idea,” Rose replied. “But I’m getting weird pictures of huge rotating fans and ventilation drops.”

“Good thing neither of us is wearing a string vest,” Mickey laughed, remembering a mammoth Die Hard festival one night at Shareen’s.

“Yeah,” Rose agreed and tried to remember which way they had come in. If she could retrace their steps she might be able to make it back to the TARDIS and safety.

Then, maybe, she’d go and find the Doctor, if he hadn’t made his own way back by then.

She put the idea out of her mind and carried on distracting Mickey with small talk and reminiscences and hoped he didn’t notice that she was still shivering from the after-effects of the electrocution and cradling her bruised wrist.


The Doctor tiptoed across the room and ducked beneath a conveniently placed barrel.

The Chief of Police was sitting in the small office to his left, the sonic screwdriver hanging idly from his belt. The Doctor hated to think what the condition of it would be like after being so near to that much slime for that long and he made a mental note to thoroughly clean it before putting it anywhere near the TARDIS controls … or his mouth.

He could reach it if he hid behind that door and sort of reached in.

But before he could move there was a large sucking sound and one of the guards squelched his way into the office, blocking the doorway with his huge wet frame.

“Chief,” he panted, sounding like a blocked drain. “The prisoners have vanished.”

“What?” roared the Chief and lurched to his feet, his gelatinous body undulating grossly. The Doctor decided then and there that jelly was off the menu for the next few years.

As the Chief wobbled by angrily to pursue whoever had let the prisoners escape the Doctor reached out, swiping the sonic screwdriver from the waist pouch.

It was slimy and disgusting and the Doctor made a face as he thought about using it in that condition.

“That’s the trouble with some species,” he muttered, “no consideration for other people’s toys.”

Now he had the sonic screwdriver back and it looked like Rose was doing a good job of saving herself, like he knew she would.

Like she knew she would.

He swallowed hard at the thought but tried to turn his attention back to his other task; the one that was important and would ensure that they were able to leave this hostile rock; finding the missing TARDIS piece.

Although this planet’s inhabitants had never heard of a
Usakiac Drive disruptor, he could make do with a few spare bits and pieces that any civilisation with advanced technology would keep around.

Thankfully the Chief had had the TARDIS brought into the compound so they didn’t have to go far to find their way home. The Chief had mentioned something about a hanger?

A hanger where they kept vehicles and technology?

The Doctor beamed as he started for the basement. Sometimes, hostile alien species really were very helpful.



Rose could hear the fighting going on beneath her as the aliens tried to blame each other for the loss of their prisoners. 
Thankfully they were also oblivious about how she and Mickey had escaped. With their huge bodies and rigid ideas they hadn’t been able to work out exactly how their prisoners had escaped the locked, guarded room.

She was counting herself lucky, especially as she heard the magic words.

“Blue box.”

She paused in her careful creeping and Mickey almost rammed into the back of her.

“Rose?” he whispered.

“Shh.” She leaned down with her ear to the floor and heard the muffled words.

“Instructed to place more guards in the lower hanger. The prisoners will make a try for the city where the device was left.”

“Unknown that we have it.”

There was a slurping sound which Rose figured was their version of evil laughter and they walked away.

She grinned. “You know, Mickey, sometimes even hostile aliens can be really helpful.”


“They’ve brought the TARDIS here. Locked in some hanger by the sounds of it.”





“Guards with guns?”

“Probably, yeah.”

Mickey paused. “Tell me how that’s good.”

“Its close by,” she retorted, “and you won’t have to get dressed up like a serving girl to get out of the city.”

He thought about that for a moment. “Right, great news then.”

“Lower hanger?” Rose frowned in concentration, trying to work out where that would be.

“Didn’t see any planes when we were outside, there were those hover-car things but they wouldn’t be on the roof,” Mickey said doubtfully. “Besides a place like this would want to keep everything undercover, so I’m thinking cellar, right?”

Rose beamed at him approvingly. “Good call, Mick. We need to be heading down, then.” She bit her lip. “I think there was an empty room a bit further up from the cell, saw it as they took us past. We could drop down there and try to aim for the cellar.”

Mickey shrugged. “You’re the escape expert.”

Rose grinned at that and headed towards the direction of the empty room.

“Rose?” Mickey said after a few minutes.


“How comes you never told me that you and the Doctor always get in so much trouble?”

“What?” she replied distractedly.

“I mean, I know you and old Big Ears were always up to your neck in trouble, but I didn’t realise how often. And this Doctor ain't exactly safety conscious, is he?”

“Found it,” Rose ignored him, and picked up the corner of the nearest slat, peeling it away, as she looked down into the empty room.

Mickey just watched her drop into the room, wincing as she landed awkwardly and coaxed him to follow her.

His knees buckled as he dropped to the floor and he sprawled onto the ground like a drunk cat.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Graceful, Mickey, very graceful.”

“Well, we weren’t all gymnastic champions, yeah?”

Rose tiptoed to the door, peering out. “Okay, all clear. We have to make a run for it. Think you can manage, twinkle toes?”

He nodded, although dubious.

Rose stared at him and felt more than a little uncomfortable at the thought of leading Mickey into danger. He was a great bloke, any girl would be glad to have such a sweetheart for a boyfriend, but he wasn’t exactly good in a crisis and, right now, Rose needed him to have a clear head and calm manner.

She sighed. “Look, just imagine we’re in one of your games, yeah? Almost top score, one life left. Just gotta make it to the hanger.”

Mickey brightened at the comparison. “Does that mean you’re gonna get dressed up like Lara Croft?”

He wasn’t quick enough to duck the slap as Rose responded to that the only way she could.

They managed to keep to the shadows and, although there were several moments of pure panic as Rose and Mickey had to literally hold their breath as the guards passed within inches of their hiding place, they managed to make it all the way down to the basement hanger. Thanks to Rose’s year-long work-experience with the Doctor on how not to draw attention to herself, she was very pleased at being able to reach the hanger undetected.

It was there that their luck ran out. The TARDIS was there, but it was surrounded by guards. Guards with guns. Big guns.

Rose and Mickey darted behind a pillar and tried to stay out of sight.



The Doctor, meanwhile, had discovered to his delight that although they didn’t possess a Usakiac disrupter drive, their hover crafts had several components that would do just as well, if not better, and possessed even more parts and spares that he had been looking for.

Thankful that his pockets were bigger on the inside as he went into a rapturous shopping/stealing spree, the Doctor finally made his way to the hanger where guards with rather large guns stood waiting for him.

He walked out, bold and brash, smiling widely at them.

“Hello!” he waved merrily.



Rose peered out as the Doctor strode into play. He had the wild, wide-eyed stare of someone without a care in the world, in perfect control of the situation.

“Bugger!” Rose swore under her breath.

“What?” Mickey demanded.

“He hasn’t got a plan; he’s making it up as he goes.”

Mickey considered. “And that’s different from usual, how?”

Rose had to let that one go. “It’s not.”

“So, what’s the problem then?”

“We just have to be ready,” Rose frowned. “And get ready to duck. The Doctor’s plans have a tendency of exploding.”

Mickey’s eyes widened. “What, really?”

“Henriks?” Rose reminded him and Mickey sank down a little behind his pillar. “Downing street? There’s a reason he carries a fire-extinguisher in his pocket, ya know.”

“Right, just my luck, I get to travel through the universe with a psychopathic arsonist with bad dress sense. Least Big Ears had a leather jacket; that was kinda cool.”

Rose shook her head and peeped around the pillar again, trying to work out what it was the Doctor was going to do. It had never worked before—he was nothing if not unpredictable— but there was always a first time.

Tags: doctorwho, fic, goon
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.