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Stitches in time 4.0 - Manus

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  • Stitches in time 4.0 - Manus

    Title: Stitches in time 4.0 - Manus
    Disclamer:I have no rights whatsoever on anything Joss & co came up with first or Russel T Davies & co either for that matter.


    Someone or something is attempting to alter history, seemingly to undermine the slayer. So far they have meddled in the history of Giles, trying to bring about his death before he even meets Buffy; Xander by making his mothe move away from sunnydale with him as an infant and Willow by enuring her parents never meet. Thanks to the Doctor and Rose these attempts were unsuccesful.

    Now read on...


    The machine whirred slowly into reluctant life, lights blinking in a complicated sequence, each one indicating one of the intricate processes that would resuscitate the prone form were beginning. Feedback from this process was fed from the machine to a computer terminal which in turn fed the information to the lone figure monitoring the process, his face bathed in the greenish light reflected by the strings of data on the screen.

    The figure grunted slightly in satisfaction and entered a command into the terminals keyboard sending the lights into a fresh frenzy and intensifying the whirring hum into a high pitched whine that rose in frequency to almost painful levels before ending abruptly, killing the lights at the same time. Hopping lightly from his stool he made his way over to the man that lay on the metal table, checking vital signs in a practised, unhurried way. After gauging pulse rate, breathing and pupil movement he gave another satisfied grunt. Rescuing the stool from behind the console he took a seat by the side of the table and waited.

    It wasn’t long before his patience was rewarded. The man on the table groaned wearily and opened his eyes, blinking as the dim light assailed him

    “And?” the figure on the stool asked.

    The man on the table sat up detaching the wires that connected it to the machine one by one and glared at his companion.

    “And nothing.” He replied shortly “Once more you’re accursed Doctor interfered before the timelines could diverge.”

    “I’ve told you he’s not ‘my Doctor’!” the other replied heatedly “He’s the man who destroyed my life, yanking me out of my time like that and then throwing me away again just because I broke his precious rules, making me a freak, stopping me from getting what should have been mine. He’s not my anything”

    The man on the table swung his legs around and looked his young companion directly in the eyes. “And we will make him pay for all of that just as I promised you” he said “just as soon as we have dealt with the Slayer. Now I want you to prepare the machine for the next trip.”

    “The next trip? Are you mad? Going back again so quickly is far too dangerous, not to mention the strain it’ll put on the equipment. You could get yourself killed, or trapped between times, or trapped in the past… like me.”

    “Just do it. The rewards that we will reap are more than worth the risk. This time I will succeed. This time Buffy Summers will be dealt with once and for all and then you and I will be in a position to deal with this meddling Doctor and you, Adam Mitchell, shall have your revenge.

    It took Adam perhaps the best part of an hour to prepare the machine again and even longer to coax it into reluctant life. Eventually though, all was made ready and he again lay naked on the table. Once more that jolting, rushing feeling filled him. Building slowly, intensifying with every passing second until the jarring sense of stationary speed overcame him and all became dark.
    Last edited by tangent; 01-09-08, 10:14 PM.

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  • #2

    A timeless age passed as he drifted, freed from the constraints of cause and effect, unchained from the tyranny of the passing years until once more his eyes opened, not on the gloomy light of the laboratory but on the fresh scenes of times long past.

    The cemetery was small compared to the expansive acres of tombstones that covered Sunnydale but then this particular part of L.A. was not one famed for its body count. There were, however two similarities between a Sunnydale cemetery and this one. One was the freshly dug grave that contained the body of a recent victim of suspicious neck traumas. The other, was the slayer.

    The man kept his eyes fixed on the young blonde girl as she walked slowly towards his hidden vantage point in the small copse of trees, uncertainty and fear radiating from every pore of her. Beside her and looking far more collected strode her watcher. He was named Merrick he recalled, a good man in his own way and a man wholly committed to the watchers cause. He continued to watch the pair as they continued towards him, sizing them up. The girl was only just discovering her power but would still be far too dangerous to take on in a fight and the watcher, although carrying more weight than he remembered, would still be enough to tip the scales away from him.

    The time for subtle manipulation had passed though, now it was time for direct action, to carry the fight to the slayer in a way that could leave no room for doubt. To that end he reached down for the case he had brought with him and without taking his eyes from his target produced a long sleek black shape from it that spoke of sudden, silent death.

    It took him perhaps five minutes to prepare the rifle, ensuring it was in full working order, that the telescopic sights were set correctly and that he had an unobstructed line of fire to his target. One bullet; that would be all it would take to safeguard the future, to protect the lives of countless girls and to save everything he held dear. Just one tiny piece of metal, one shot, one death and all would be as it should. All would be in order again.

    He pressed his eye to the cold metal of the scope and, moving with slow, practised caution brought the rifle around until the blonde head came into view. She was stood now by the side of the newly turned earth listening as Merrick gave her some speech or other designed to inspire and intrigue the newly called slayer. He raised his hand to the telescopic sights and adjusted them slightly bringing his target into ever sharper focus until he could see the hesitance in her face and the sullen fear that flashed in her eyes. She looked so young, so vulnerable, almost like a baby deer frozen in his crosshairs.

    A long breath escaped him as the image played in his mind. Could he really do this? Could he end the life of this child? Just shoot her down in cold blood for the crimes she had yet to commit? But as he asked himself the questions he already knew the answer. He had to. It was one life versus a whole way of life. It was order against chaos. With this one blood sacrifice he would rewrite history, reshape the future as it should be, as it must be. Taking a fresh breath he took fresh aim and placed his finger on the weapons trigger allowing it to apply a creeping, gradual pressure.

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    • #3
      "All I'm saying" said the Doctor "is that the T.A.R.D.I.S is a very sophisticated peice of techno-organic machinery able to traverse the whole of time and space in a blink of the eye. She isn't a 1973 Ford Cortina and you certainly don't ?just park it anywhere'.

      "All right keep your hair on, I was only saying. You know with us being in a rush. It being the end of the world? again."

      The Doctor sniffed and gave his companion a sideways look "well, I suppose I can look past it just this once." He looked down at the device in his hands. "We're nearly there." He said. "The timeline splits soon and according to all the known records this is where it happens."

      Rose looked around at the trees that surrounded them. "So where is she then? Where's this Slayer of yours."

      The Doctor looked around, scanning the little ground he could see between the branches until a flash of yellow caught his attention.

      "Looks like their over there." He said pointing towards a place where ether trees thinned. "If we get a bit closer we should be able to get a better view.

      They trudged a few feet forward, hands held in front of their faces to ward off the low hanging branches as they went, until a clear view of the cemetery opened up before them revealing two figure standing in the middle distance a man in a heavy coat and a young girl in a padded yellow jacket standing beside a modest gravestone

      "That's her then is it? Rose asked.

      "Yup, that's Buffy Summers, Slayer of vampires, demons and other assorted nasties."

      Rose tilted her head and gave the figure a long appraising look "Not very big is she?"

      "Weellll, size isn't everything you know. I've known entire races you could fit in your pocket that would have taken over the universe if it wasn't for a bit of timely intervention." He nodded in the Slayers direction. "That particular little girl is probably one of the three most important people ever to have lived on this planet if you must know."

      "The other two being?"

      "Ooh, lets see there's? oh, hang on, I think we've got ourselves a vampire. Looks like it could be show time.


      In the bushes behind them the shadowy form stood flattened against the trunk of a tree, watching them closely. It had been a close call, almost too close but he had managed to conceal himself just before the damned interfering Doctor and his girlfriend had blundered into view and blocked his view of his target, foiling his plans for a fourth time. Well the fourth time would be the last time.

      Each trip that he took back into the past was costing him more and more, diminishing him in ways he couldn't even understand and this coupled with the limited opportunities that the past threw up meant that he could not, would not, leave empty handed. Not this time.

      Moving as slowly and silently as a ray of moonlight he raised the gun up to his chest. This was a shot for which he would have no need for telescopic lenses or night vision scopes. This was point blank, sure, certain instant death that would free him to act as he wished. Carefully, almost respectfully he swung the gun round until the muzzle was pointing directly at the man before him.


      "Ooh! Now that's got to hurt." Rose winced as the Slayer went flying through the air only to land heavily on her back on the hard ground.

      "Oh, she'll be fine." The doctor replied "Slayers are made of pretty strong stuff you know." He squinted into the woods on the other side of the clearing "I think there's someone in the bushes by that crypt but if you trust the records that's would have to be the vampire and the demon."

      Rose looked up at him with concern written large on her face "Vampire, demon. Isn't that a bad thing" she asked.

      The Doctor shrugged absently "Not in this case, no. Well. At least? not yet."

      "Not yet?"

      "Long story. Bit on the complicated side really. Just you keep your eye on the Slayer and let me know if you see anything unusual."

      "More unusual than a girl fighting a v? oh, she's got him."

      "Oh! good for her!" said the Doctor shifting the spotlight of his attention back to the fight and grinning happily. "Shame she couldn't get the heart the first time but then I suppose that's the problem with them only having the one."

      Rose watched the middle age man help the young girl to her feet and, as he spoke a few unheard words, help her to walk as they turned to leave the sombre surroundings. She watched their progress for a few moment s and then looked up at her brown clad companion.

      "So that's it? She's safe?"

      The doctor pursed his lips "For now. I think our being here upset some-ones plans quite badly, or at least I certainly hope so." He looked down into his young companion's eyes "But whoever, or whatever it is where up against here is a stubborn so-and-so and I think they might be starting to get desperate. That could just make them even more dangerous."

      "Desperate? But nothings happened here. What makes you think they're desperate?"

      The Doctor looked down at her a glint in his eye. "Lots of things, really" he said "little inconsequential details that cropped up along the way that don't mean anything by themselves but, when added all together take on a whole new dimension." He straightened and stared up at the night stars "And of course there's always the bloke behind us with the gun."

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      • #4
        Rose wheeled round so fast she almost overbalanced and found herself looking directly into the muzzle of a hunting rifle.

        "No sudden movements if you please" said the man carrying it.

        He was an older man of below medium height, the patches of grey creeping into his beard and the hair that receded back from the balding scalp lending him a distinguished quality

        "Do you know" said the Doctor without turning or taking his eyes from the night sky "there's over a hundred thousand different races living up there, more if you count the non corporeal ones and I've stopped a good percentage of them from destroying each and the universe around them so many times you could almost count it as a hobby. I've faced the Daleks, the Cybermen, the Sontarans, the Ice Warriors and even my own kind." He turned and faced the gunman, staring him straight in the eyes, his expression grim "So what makes you so sure that I can be intimidated by one man with a gun?"

        "I warn you ?Doctor' or whatever your name may be. Keep your hands raised or I will shoot. Eradicating the non-human threats to this world is what I do best and I will kill you just as readily as I would a demon."

        "Would you though?" The Doctor asked pacing to his right, his hands in front of him palms open "I mean, don't get me wrong, you are the one with the gun, but you don't exactly strike me as the kind of man who likes to get his own hands dirty, might get a bit too much blood on that nice suit of yours." He stopped his progress and examined his adversary's face solemnly before continuing pacing around the gunman "No I see you as more as one of life's organisers, a planner not a doer. Take for instance the plans you put in face to get rid of the others. Ripper getting eaten by Eyghon, the Harris boy leaving town before the Slayer arrives, stopping the Rosenbergs from ever getting together? Each would leave the Slayer without the people who save her and guide her and help her and each meant that you didn't have to shed any blood. They're plans that are intricate, subtle. This?" he stopped again and pointed at the gun "Isn't. This is you about to shoot someone at point blank range. There will be blood and death and it will be here, right in front of you. So, think you can do it?"

        The gunman lifted the gun a little higher until it pointed at the Doctors head. "Yes" he said, his eyes hard "You have no idea what is at stake here ?Doctor' I would shoot a thousand of your kind to safeguard the future."

        The Doctor pulled a face "Ah... Right. Well in that case now is probably the time to point out that there's just one other thing that you've forgotten."

        "Which I?" The gunman began before crumpling to the ground in a heap.

        "Rose." The doctor said to the fallen figure before grinning up at his companion "Nice shot!"

        "Thank you." Rose said letting the fallen tree branch slip from her hand. "I didn't hit him too hard did I?"

        "Naah, he'll be fine. Might have a bit of a headache but that shouldn't stop him from telling us what this is all about."

        "If we can get him to fess up, that is."

        "Good point," said the Doctor thoughtfully, gazing down at the unconscious man "Chuckles here didn't exactly strike me as forthcoming."

        "So you really have no idea who he is then?

        The doctor raised his head once more his eyes gleaming "No. But I know a man who might."

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