5Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any of these characters...everything here is borrowed with love. ;)
2.
"I'm picking up something…" A gangly man in skinny jeans and a bowtie squinted at something resembling a computer monitor, turning the dials one way, then the other to grab a clearer picture.
"What is it, Doctor?" A tall red-headed girl in a short skirt descended the stairs with her arms crossed. She was followed by a thin, sandy-haired man in jeans.
"No idea," the Doctor replied. "Go and open the doors for me, would you Amy? We're going to let it inside."
"You really think that's a good idea?" the sandy-haired man asked. "It could be anything, or anyone. And we're just going to let it in?"
The Doctor spun around on the spot and grinned at him.
"Exactly, right on point, Rory. Can't find out what it is without getting a closer look."
Rory rolled his eyes. "This will go well," he muttered to himself.
The Doctor spun back around to the middle console and fiddled with the dials on the screen once more. He then grabbed the emergency break.
"Ready Amy?" he asked.
The red-head shrugged and made her way over to the double doors.
"Ready when you are."
"Okay…. Now!"
The Doctor slammed on the breaks, just as Amy swung open the doors. Rory covered his face and crouched behind the railing, just in case whatever-it-was happened to be explosive, or violent. Good instincts on that one—he really didn't know how right he was, except…
"Uh, hey Doctor? There's…nothing here."
"Yes there is, you just need to know how to look," the Doctor replied, running around the middle console to the entryway.
"Can I close the doors now?" Amy called. When no answer was forthcoming, she sighed and closed them anyway.
The Doctor seemed preoccupied with the section of air between the middle console and the doors.
"What…are you?" The Doctor said aloud.
"Talking to thin air now, Doctor?" Amy asked. She crossed her arms and leaned up against the railing that Rory was still half-hiding behind. "He's finally lost it." She looked down and noticed her husband crouching on the floor. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Nothing," Rory replied, springing to his feet. "So, Doctor? Is there…something in the air?"
"Fascinating," was the Doctor's only reply. He took out his sonic screwdriver and began waving it around the section of air. It whirred in differing notes as he passed it up and down.
"Yes, fascinating," Amy said, rolling her eyes, "Which isn't an answer by the way. And honestly, are you so bored that you feel the need to literally make things up to entertain yourself?"
"Have a little faith, Amelia Pond," the Doctor replied, fiddling with his sonic and making another sweeping pass with it, "Appearances can be deceiving."
'I couldn't agree more,' came an echoing voice out of thin air—to be exact, the precise conglomerate of air that the Doctor was paying so much attention to.
"Who said that?" Rory blurted, spooked by the disembodied voice.
'I did. I am your worst nightmare, the shiver up your spine. The cold breath on the back of your neck…'
Snart never could resist screwing with people… and this was possibly the best chance he was going to get to make the Captain wet himself.
'Boo,' Snart said into his ear.
"W-w-what?" Rory stammered, stumbling back into Amy. He gripped the railing, trying to calm his quaking knees.
"Ignore him, he's been floating around as space dust for a while now, if I were to wager," the Doctor said, "I imagine he's just bored."
'All this time and I run into a damn rat. Thanks for ruining my fun. Now are you going to humpty dumpty me back together, or what?'
"Almost got it. Just a few more…" The Doctor adjusted the settings on his sonic again and repeated the process. This time on his pass through the section of air, a vague figure came into focus. "Aha! Got you!"
"Look again, moron. Do I look 'fixed' to you?" Snart asked. Yes, he was visible. But considering he had the density of passed wind, it wasn't going to do him much good.
"Hmm, he needs an anchor. I think I have…" The Doctor trailed off and dashed to the underside of the middle console, to a compartment by its base. He rummaged around a bit, searching for a particular item he remembered seeing a couple centuries previous.
His guest upstairs rolled his eyes as he waited, listening to the various clunking and mumblings coming from below deck. He gave the redhead a look that asked if this was normal for the strange man who had saved him, and the look he received in return confirmed his suspicions.
His rescuer was an idiot.
"Aha!" came the Doctor's triumphant call from beneath them, and then a stampede of gangly limbs rushed back to Snart.
He was holding something that looked like a Fit-Bit… if Fit-Bits typically had a silver center in lieu of a display screen. There were intricate carvings etched into the center plate that seemed Celtic in origin.
Don't look so surprised. He's a thief, he knows his trinkets well. The bangle that his rescuer held looked to be worth a small fortune… and it seemed as though the man was just going to… give it to him.
"Here we are, Quantum Molecular Stabilizer. I think the High Councilor of Cymru gave it to me in the 71st century or thereabouts. I saved his cat."
The thin man grinned as if he had just uttered the funniest thing in the universe and looked around the room as if expecting an applause. When none was forthcoming, he cleared his throat and proceeded to snap the device around Snart's 'wrist' – or rather, around the apparition of his wrist. Immediately Snart felt a sort of … shift, and then his body was solid again.
"Nifty," he said, examining the trinket around his wrist. "Easiest job I ever pulled." He looked up at the gawky man who had saved his life. "I suppose I should say 'thanks,' but it's really not my style." He paused, fiddling with the bracelet. "Still…considering I would have been space dust for all eternity if you hadn't pieced me back together… I suppose I owe you something."
"Well, I think that was the best 'non-thank you' I've heard in a millennia, so I won't bother saying you're welcome. Mr…?" said the man with the bowtie.
"The name's Leonard Snart," the thief replied. "And you are?"
"I'm the Doctor," came the reply.
"You look more like a librarian than a doctor, but who am I to judge? Anyway, it's about time we had a real medical professional on board. So what do I call you, Doc?" Snart asked.
"The Doctor. It's just the Doctor. He's rubbish at explaining it himself," the redhead cut in.
Snart paused, peering at the girl. At least she was an improvement to the team. He turned to the only familiar face in the room.
"Captain, it's good to see something hasn't changed for however long I was playing Humpty Dumpty. What happened to the…beard?" Snart asked, "And who's the skirt? I like her."
"Beard?" Rory said, "Sorry…Captain?"
"This isn't the Waverider… So where are we? Where's the rest of the team?" Snart looked around, and for the first time since his resurgence, he felt that lurch in his gut that told him something was terribly, horribly wrong. "Damn," he said, to no one in particular, "Alexa."
And then he fainted.
Author's Notes:
2.1: The High Councilor of Cymru ruled the People's Republic of Cymru in 7000 AD or thereabouts… in the country formally known as Wales – all of this is made up. I based the name on the Welsh word for "Celtic".