| Date: 10 January 2008
Characters: Kurt Harding, The Tenth Doctor Location: outside, a bar Link to IJ: thread #29029 |
 Kurt headed for the big hotel in the middle of the town, hoping to find the Doctor. Or Jack. Or basically anyone over the age of 18. He was starting to feel old.
He was still half-way down the street when he saw a familiar gangly figure emerge from the main doors. He half-ran towards the figure, grinning in relief. "Doctor! Is it good to see you!" |
 He was starting to feel just a bit stir-crazy, and decided heading out of the hotel was the thing to do. He'd made it all of three steps out the front doors when he spotted Jack - or a Jack, anyway. This one looked a bit old - trotting toward him.
"Jack!" He grinned, found some energy from somewhere and met Jack with a hug. "Good to see you, too!" Well, that much at least was true. |
| "Kurt," he corrected automatically, returning the hug with typical enthusiasm and a bit of equally typical groping. |
| He stepped back and batted at him when he gropped. "Kurt?" he asked, frowning. "Why Kurt?" |
| Kurt chuckled warmly, and let the Doctor go, stepping back and sticking his hands in his pockets.
"It's what I'm calling myself these days. But you obviously don't know that." He raised his eyebrows. "When's the last time you saw me?" |
| "I know that now," he protested. "And I don't know, I can't keep track of linear time." He rolled his eyes. "Kurt?"
...He was going to poke. |
| Kurt shrugged. "It's just a name. The guy it used to belong to was kinda pretty." |
| "Was he a Captain?" |
| "Of course. Always gotta be a Captain, Doctor." |
| He grinned and whistled the theme song to Star Trek through his teeth. |
| Kurt was from the 51st century. It was a very long time since he'd seen Star Trek. He didn't recognise the tune.
"What are you on about, Doctor?" |
| "You've picked up a rather punny name."
He punned. |
| Kurt sighed. "Shall we start again?" He felt like he was doing that a lot. "Captain Kurt Harding. Pleased to meet you." He paused. "Well, unless you keep making jokes about my name." |
| He laughed, hard. "Harding? How can you expect me not to make jokes?" |
| "All right, that's it. Come and find me when you're done laughing. I need to talk to you."
Kurt turned on his heel and started to walk away. |
| He followed along. "About?" |
| "The Master." |
| "What about him?" |
| "He's here." |
| "I know." |
| Kurt stopped. Turned. Stared into brown eyes that were just too hard to read.
"You know?" |
| "Yep." |
| Kurt frowned. "So where are the public notices? Billboards? Posters? Loudspeaker announcements? Warning people there's an evil psychopath on the loose?" |
| "He's not going to do anything, here." |
| Kurt raised his eyebrows. "How can you be sure?" |
| "Because I know him. He's not going to do anything while he's stuck here." |
| "Why not? What's stopping him?" |
| "The fact that we're both stuck here, Jac- Kurt." |
| Kurt ignored the slip. He'd gotten used that from the Doctor - after all, his name did tend to have changed pretty much every time the Doctor saw him.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I don't see why that's going to stop him doing anything." |
| "Because if we can't get away from each other, we'll destroy everything. And have to live with each other. Doesn't get any worse than that." |
| Kurt considered that for a moment, and then nodded. "All right. I'll give you that. That's a really frightening thought."
His hands came out of his pockets to gesticulate, automatically. "But it's not just blood and destruction I'm talking about here. You know he loves mind games and he's got the ideal environment here - lots of people who don't know anybody else, who'll trust him when they shouldn't. Like the girl I met when I got here - lovely young thing named Susan, calls you Grandfather - who'd bumped into 'Harry' and decided he was a delightful old friend of her grandfather's." He shuddered. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but the thought of him getting his hands on her - in any way - makes my blood run cold." |
| "What do you think he's going to do if he finds everyone knows about him, and he can't even play mind games? Do you think I want him messing with people? No. I want him bored less. And, frankly, if you're that concerned with warning people, you could always put up a notice yourself." |
| "I was going to. I've only been here a day or two! I just got the impression you'd been around a bit longer than that."
He grimaced. "Loathe as I am to admit it, you do have a point. Lesser of two evils, I suppose. But if he lays a finger on Susan..." |
| "He's not that stupid. Susan may not know who he is, but he knows who she is, and he knows she's my granddaughter. He's not suicidal. Yet." |
| "Oh, she knows who he is now. We had quite a long chat, your granddaughter and I." Kurt waggled an eyebrow at the Doctor. "Well, if you think you've got it all under control, I guess I'll just have to accept that. I guess he is, ultimately, your responsibility."
Yes, there was a tiny bit of a jibe in there. Some things still stung, even after 3,000 years. |
| "Want me to give a go at making you the last human in existence so I can be responsible for you?"
...he was really worn out when he started making that kind of crack, and blows that low. |
| "Oh, come now, Doctor, that's uncalled for." But Kurt's voice was gentle. He stood back and looked at the Doctor, really looked at him, taking in just how tired he looked, and how he did, as Koschei had said, look like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He put a hand on one of those shoulders, aware of how bony and fragile it felt. "Let's go and get a drink. You look like you could use one." |
| He stood there for a minute and enjoyed the contact. Then shrugged it off and rolled his eyes. "I don't want a bloody drink. May go kick the TARDIS again, though." He pretended to ponder. |
| "What's the TARDIS done to you?" |
| "I'm here, aren't I?" |
| He raised his eyebrows. "I hardly think that was the TARDIS's fault!" |
| "Why not?" |
| "Why would it be? Isn't it all completely random?" |
| "No idea," he admitted. "Wasn't being serious. I think I might get that drink, after all." |
| "Good. I could use one too." Kurt flung an arm around the Doctor's shoulders. "Come on. I saw a nice little bar just down here." |
| He oomphed a bit, thought he should get out from under the arm and then decided not to bother. "Keep leadin' the way."
He. Still didn't so much want a drink, but sitting down couldn't hurt. Much. Probably. |
| "Just down here," Kurt said casually, steering the Doctor a few more yards down the road and then letting him go because there wasn't room for both of them to get through the doorway at once. He propelled the Doctor in with a light hand between his shoulder-blades, and over to the bar. The place was small, dimly-lit, and rather olde worlde.
Kurt leaned on the bar and grinned at the Doctor. "Thought this place might appeal to you. What's your poison?" |
| He sneezed when he walked in, and then found a seat. "Whatever you're having. Why'd you think it'd appeal to me?" |
| "Bless you." He shrugged, grinning. "It's kinda trying to be English, and you're kinda trying to be English... I thought you'd get along."
He ordered a pint of IPA (he'd given up on water a long time ago) and raised his eyebrows at the Doctor. "What'll it be?" he asked again. |
| He really couldn't help but laugh at that - because it was damned well funny.
"What did you just order?" He squinted. |
| It was nice to hear the Doctor laugh. Kurt grinned. "It's called beer, Doctor. India Pale Ale. Originally what the Brits used to drink in India when it was part of their Empire." He held up the glass, admiring the amber colour, then took a long draught. "Mmm. Been a long time since I had a decent pint of this. You want some?" |
| "Didn't I just say I'd have whatever you were having?" He really wasn't all that invested in his drink. |
| Kurt shook his head, laughing. "Sorry, I must be getting deaf in my old age!" He got another couple of pints, because his first one really wasn't going to last very long, and some peanuts, and brought them all over to where the Doctor was sitting. Sat down in the seat opposite him and smiled.
"Been a while since I took you out for a drink, Doctor. 'S kinda nice." |
| He lifted his eyebrow. "Just how old are you now?" he asked. He also took his drink, and curled his hands around and , pivoted it between his palms. |
| Kurt took another long drink. "Somewhere around 3,200. Hard to say exactly. You?" |
| He was glad he wasn't drinking, or Kurt would have been wearing the beer.
He didn't even try to answer. He just stared. |
| Kurt lowered his pint. "What?" |
| He shook his head, picked up his drink and drained it. |
| Kurt watched with one eyebrow quirking lazily upwards. "Don't think I've ever seen you drink anything that fast," he commented casually. |
| "Happens now and then. Not usually with beer, though." He looked at the container, nose wrinkled. "God that stuff's vile." |
| He laughed. "See? I told you! Only pretending to be English!" He raised his own glass in a silent toast and drained it, before tearing open the bag of peanuts and dumping it in the middle of the table so they could both help themselves.
"How old did you think I was?" he asked, though a mouthful of peanuts. |
| "Only pretending to be human," He reminded Jack and leaned back. "Dunno. Younger." |
| "I hadn't forgotten," Kurt said mildly. "How much younger? A lot younger, I guess, going by that reaction." |
| "Just younger!" He didn't quite snap, but it was close. |
| "Why don't you want to tell me?" It was gentle and concerned, and Kurt wasn't even looking at him as he reached for his second pint. |
| "Because I don't," he growled. "I don't know why, but I don't. Just let it go already!" |
| Kurt shrugged, and let it go. Old habits die hard, and he'd never lost his habit of deferring to the Doctor.
He drank some beer and said, rather apologetically, "This probably isn't the best time, but there's something else I need to talk to you about." |
| "Now is a fantastic time," he said, gratefully. He also calmed the hell down. |
| Kurt's lips twitched. "I bumped into a younger version of the Master this morning. An eight year-old version, to be exact." |
| "What about him?" He asked, curious and a little worried. |
| "I... kinda said we'd try and help him with the drums." |
| "If you tell me you're telepathic now, I'm getting up and walking out," he warned, almost pleasantly. Well, pleasant except the panic lurking barely beneath the surface of his eyes. |
| "I'm not telepathic. Well, no more than I ever was. You're the telepathic one." Kurt frowned at the Doctor, totally confused, and showing it. |
| He sighed with visible relief. "Right, well. I already took care of the drums for Professor Yana. if Koschei wants them gone, I'll do what I can." |
| Kurt blinked. "Easy as that?" |
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