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Earth, London, 4.21.08/4.22.08
May. 9th, 2009 11:34 am... Into the cool spring twilight of the UNIT base. Her boots hit concrete, and she zips up her jacket against the cold wind. She doesn't realise she's holding her breath until she lets it out, slowly. She looks around, turning on the spot, taking stock, but she already knows the correct conclusion: she's back exactly when and where she was before she arrived at the Outpost.
There's a certain dreamlike quality to it all as she takes her phone out of her pocket and finishes listening to the phone message that was so suddenly interrupted. As she completes the walk to her car she started ten days before. It's hard to concentrate on the drive to Tish's place.
She shouldn't be surprised that everything's just as she left it. After all, she heard from Marron that it was when he went back to his home. But she still can't help feeling that there's something strange about no time having passed at all. Whenever the Doctor brought her back home, at least a little time had passed. A few hours, a few days.
Here, none has.
And she smiles and pretends everything is normal as she and Tish plot out a plan of attack to calm their mother down. As they implement it through the family dinner, exchanging significant looks across the table. As she puts in her nightly phone call to Tom, and spends the evening just as she would any other.
It's all so normal.
She doesn't say anything to anyone about what's happened to her over the past ten days. They'd probably believe it, but ... she doesn't want to worry them. More than that, she doesn't want them to know she's been gone. The temptation's there, but the much stronger temptation is to call Jack in Cardiff. Because he's been to the Outpost too, and because even if he hadn't, she knows he'd believe her. But she's not sure that would be a good idea: she's from the future of the Jack she met at the Outpost. Who knows what's been happening in the past month for him? And the one thing she doesn't want is to call and find he's not there, that something's gone wrong and maybe he never comes back from the future. No, this is a matter where she'll have to shelve her curiousity.
The other person she very deliberately doesn't call is the Doctor.
It's a long night, with very little sleep; though it was early evening London time when she arrived, it was morning on the Outpost. So she lies in bed, trying to sleep, and when she gives that up, she just lies there thinking. There's certainly enough to occupy her mind until 5:30, when she gets up and dresses. She packs some favourite clothes, a few photographs and books and other things just to make the trip a little more like a vacation and a little less like being stolen from her time and place.
At five past six, she walks down the hallway from her room, duffel bag in one hand and her best medical kit in the other ... and finds herself back in the little room at the Outpost.
There's a certain dreamlike quality to it all as she takes her phone out of her pocket and finishes listening to the phone message that was so suddenly interrupted. As she completes the walk to her car she started ten days before. It's hard to concentrate on the drive to Tish's place.
She shouldn't be surprised that everything's just as she left it. After all, she heard from Marron that it was when he went back to his home. But she still can't help feeling that there's something strange about no time having passed at all. Whenever the Doctor brought her back home, at least a little time had passed. A few hours, a few days.
Here, none has.
And she smiles and pretends everything is normal as she and Tish plot out a plan of attack to calm their mother down. As they implement it through the family dinner, exchanging significant looks across the table. As she puts in her nightly phone call to Tom, and spends the evening just as she would any other.
It's all so normal.
She doesn't say anything to anyone about what's happened to her over the past ten days. They'd probably believe it, but ... she doesn't want to worry them. More than that, she doesn't want them to know she's been gone. The temptation's there, but the much stronger temptation is to call Jack in Cardiff. Because he's been to the Outpost too, and because even if he hadn't, she knows he'd believe her. But she's not sure that would be a good idea: she's from the future of the Jack she met at the Outpost. Who knows what's been happening in the past month for him? And the one thing she doesn't want is to call and find he's not there, that something's gone wrong and maybe he never comes back from the future. No, this is a matter where she'll have to shelve her curiousity.
The other person she very deliberately doesn't call is the Doctor.
It's a long night, with very little sleep; though it was early evening London time when she arrived, it was morning on the Outpost. So she lies in bed, trying to sleep, and when she gives that up, she just lies there thinking. There's certainly enough to occupy her mind until 5:30, when she gets up and dresses. She packs some favourite clothes, a few photographs and books and other things just to make the trip a little more like a vacation and a little less like being stolen from her time and place.
At five past six, she walks down the hallway from her room, duffel bag in one hand and her best medical kit in the other ... and finds herself back in the little room at the Outpost.
