Summary: Mickey Smith has a most unfortunate encounter with Drusilla one night.
Setting: Mid-Doctor Who season one, with mild mention of stuff from season 2. No real spoilers.
Disclaimer: Buffy and the gang belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Mickey Smith is the BBC’s.
Six long frigging months since Rose had ran off into that stranger’s box and disappeared.
Six months of “Well, where’s Rose then?”, six months of increasingly suspicious looks around the estate as Jackie slowly poisoned them all, and six months of being hauled in for interview by the police over and over and over.
Mickey Smith was not a happy man.
Which went some way towards why he was up here right now. Up on the top of the tower block, looking out over London and the Powell estate. Out there in the dark around him, a thousand points of lights glittered and shined. Each one a small piece of life, of hope that Rose was still out there somewhere.
He used to take her up here every now and then. The view in the daytime stretched for miles and she always loved that – always wondering what was there, what those people there were doing. But he liked the cool night breezes, the sights and sounds of London. Kind of reassuring him that things were still the same.
But now…. things were bad. Bloody bad.
The cool October breeze blew across him as he stood by the parapet and stared out. Even the guys at the garage weren’t speaking to him the same way they used to. But what the hell was he supposed to say? He got eaten by a rubbish bin, woke up underground with this giant glowing chunk of plastic staring at him, and had to be rescued by Rose. No-one would believe a word.
Well, maybe the last bit.
It was only the fact that she disappeared on the same night as the shop dummies thing happened that was stopping the police from really turning his flat over with a fine-tooth comb. He’d done some investigating into that, sorta out of self defence. They had to be connected in some way, didn’t they? No way shit like that wasn’t tied together.
A fleeting smile crossed his frowning face for a moment, and he grabbed hold of the rusty pipe to the side, and hauled himself upwards onto the edge. Rose never liked him doing that. Well, it was her choice to go off into that box, and this was his.
He stood there for a moment, just feeling things he’d buried away for a while now. This was it – six months exactly since she’d gone. So quiet here, no eyes watching him accusingly, but no Rose either.
It really was a long way down there, wasn’t it?
The concrete was almost invisible in the dark, but he could just catch a glint from the metal bins down there. Should be careful really – wouldn’t want to slip and fall accidentally.
Huh. Jackie Tyler was just below him now if he just shuffled along a bit further. He did so. You know, that would teach her if anything happened. Whispering bout him wherever he went, to everyone he knew. Just glad his Gran wasn’t around now to hear it. She’d have hated this.
God, he missed her. He missed Rose too, but Gran was the one who would have slapped him around the head and told him to pull himself together.
He missed her a lot.
You know, it wasn’t like anyone else was left that cared too much about him.
Maybe it wasn’t such a long way down after all.
There was a scraping sound from the gravel on the roof behind him, and Mickey turned round. His brow furrowed in confusion. Some white woman (with the palest skin he’d ever seen) and long dark hair was standing there. She was dressed in black clothing, some sort of shawl(?) around her, and she was just standing there, looking at him.
Slowly at first, then picking up speed, she span around, her dress flaring out around her.
“Oh, so fine, so fine….” she sang, dancing and swaying in the night breeze, “You blow my mind, oh Mickey…”
“For fuck’s sake! How do you know my name?” he demanded, “That bloody Tyler woman telling complete loonies about me now? Eh?”
She looked up at him through that long dark curtain of hair and smiled. “The lamb has lost Miss Muffet, and doesn’t know where to turn. Miss Edith is never wrong at these games.”
Oh god, he did attract all the loonies… Care in the bloody community was a flaming joke. “Listen, lady, ain’t it a bit late fo—“
Before he could finish speaking, she was suddenly across the roof and pulling him down from the ledge with one tug. God, she was strong, Mickey thought dazedly as he skidded across the gravel.
Wait, something was wrong with her face--
Pain flooded through his body and his neck exploded with agony as she bit down deeply.
He struggled weakly as the pain grew more and more intense… and suddenly she dropped him to the rooftop. Staring upwards and blinking, he focused on her standing over him, staring upwards into the night sky.
“Ohhhhh, my cowardly lion,” she breathed, half dazed and ecstatic sounding. “So many wonderful things. There will be explosions and lights and airships and clocks and Tin Men.”
She giggled and laughed like a little girl, clapping her hands. “So many Tin Men falling down… One, Two, Three, Ten, Forty Seven.” She danced and span away from him in the darkness still giggling, leaving him sprawled there on the roof. Mickey touched the side of his neck. Was that… blood?
He looked up and froze. He couldn’t see her any more. Somewhere on that rooftop was a complete lunatic lady who thought nothing of biting his throat and he couldn’t see her! He scrambled to his feet and stared round into the darkness. Suddenly all the bright lights of London around him weren’t so welcoming anymore.
“Dorothy’s gone and she’s coming back,” came the madwoman’s calm voice from the side of the roof. “A year and a day.”
She was standing on the parapet now. Just where he’d been. No idea how she’d done that stuff before, but if she wasn’t careful, she’d be off. Mickey edged forward cautiously towards her.
“A year and day,” she said conversationally, tilting her head to one side. “That’s the traditional price when you’re off in Fairyland, isn’t it?”
She looked directly at Mickey. Mickey shivered – was that his blood on her chin? Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to go no further, to actually run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
She ran her tongue around her lips, gathering up all the blood there.
“And this time, she’s bringing the Wizard back with her.”
And stepped off backwards over the edge.
“Fuck!” yelled Mickey and sprinted to the edge. Looking down at the ground, he didn’t see the sprawled out body he expected. Instead, there was nothing… just the empty space down there between the blocks. Nothing moved.
And then she walked out from down there in the shadows.
Crossing the expanse of concrete, half visible from so far up there, it was difficult to be sure it was her, but when she stopped, waved solemnly up at him and then carried on, Mickey was sure it was her.
“What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?!” Mickey said to himself, sliding down the parapet wall.
Class it all as weird shit. Crazy lady turns up, spouts off strange talk, bites his neck and exits stage left off the top of a tower block.
“Weird shit” somehow seemed inadequate.
But he could help but feel there was something in what she’d been raving about. It was as though there was some kind of underlying thing just out of reach…
A smile crossed his face slowly. A year and a day, she’d said. Twice. Maybe Rose would be back some time. Maybe, just maybe there was an end in sight to all this trouble and aggro heading his way at the moment.
Everything passes in the end, his Gran used to say.
Maybe this would too…
Right now though, he had a gaping hole in his neck to stick a plaster over. Better be heading off home. Slowly he forced himself to his feet, and just as slowly headed towards the stairs.
Tomorrow was another day after all.