Note: This one is a fusion with Doctor Who, which you probably guessed. Heh.
Doctor Rodney Meredith McKay stepped out of the space ship and stuck his hands in the pockets of his hooded pull over, before rolling back on the heels of his converse sneakers. This was most definitely not Woodstock.
He frowned as he realized he was, in fact, right smack dab in the middle of World War II.
He knew he shouldn't have built in that randomizer into the TARDIS, but sometimes it got a little boring going wherever he wanted to go. Today, as people ran by screaming, paying no attention to the centuries old spaceship that looked like it had come centuries from the future, it was pretty inconvenient.
Rodney's TARDIS was a time machine (much bigger on the inside than the outside) that used to camouflage itself automatically upon landing, but the one time he'd gone to the Ancient city of Atlantis it had disguised itself in the form of the Atlantians own time machines, and it had just got stuck that way.
He hadn't bothered to fix it because frankly, he thought it was kind of cool, and no one ever seemed to notice things like that anyway.
Rodney frowned and spun around. Okay, so it was only most of the time no one noticed. There was a man leaning against the side of it, wearing the traditional uniform of a Time Agent, with spiky hair and a grin that was part innocence, and part smug.
Rodney crossed his arms. He wasn't that fond of Time Agents in general, muddling about with time as they did, messing it all up and putting it back the wrong way. Sure, he did the same thing; but he was a professional. He was the last of the Time Lords.
"Atlantian, isn't it?" the man asked. "Just a little puddle jumper, but powerful, or so I hear."
"What are you doing here?" Rodney demanded. "You shouldn't be here."
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, pulling himself upright. "Are you actually on my case for being out of my time?" He looked Rodney up and down, before grinning widely. "Because you look a lot more out of place than me. What are those clothes, 21 Century?"
"What are yours?" Rodney snapped. "51st?"
"Everyone loves a man in uniform," the man says slyly. "So far I've fit in fine." He held out his hand to shake, and Rodney took it with a frown. "My name's Captain John Sheppard. And you are?"
"Doctor Rodney Meredith McKay," Rodney said instantly. He'd just gone by 'Doctor' for the longest while, but everyone kept saying 'Doctor Who?' to the point he finally just made himself up a name. It seemed to satisfy people, and he'd gotten pretty attached to it himself.
John grinned wryly. "Nice to meet you, Meredith."
"I go by Rodney, or Doctor, if you don't mind," Rodney told him primly. "I merely added that in because embarrassing middle names seem something of a tradition of your kind, and I wanted to blend in."
"My kind?" John asked, stepping closer. "Which means you're not human, but you're not Ancient either, I'd know."
"And how would you know?" Rodney asked.
John laughed. "Went for a visit once, met a nice girl named Chaya. They've got a vibe about them. Can feel 'em coming from a mile away."
Another bomb crashed into a building a few blocks away, but John didn't even flinch. "You never did tell me what you were doing here," Rodney pointed out.
"I guess I didn't," John agreed.
Rodney pressed his lips together for a moment. "Well, aren't you going to?"
"I don't see any reason why I should," John told him.
Rodney glared. "Because maybe you're the reason I'm here--maybe you're going to screw something up and I'm supposed to stop you."
"That's quite an assumption," John said. "I'm not causing any trouble, and hey, my timeship is invisible. If someone's going to cause trouble, my money's on you. You just landed in the middle of the street."
"No one notices," Rodney said. "Look at them, funny humans, just running right by."
"They're running for their lives," John snapped. "You could have a little compassion."
"You're not running," Rodney said. "Why not?"
"Well, unlike them, I can leave anytime I want," John said. "Like you."
Rodney narrowed his eyes. "I'm going to change into something more suitable, you stay right where you are. I'm going to have to keep an eye on you."
"You're welcome to look all you like," John calls after him, grinning broadly.
Rodney huffed and slipped into the puddle jumper (not that he's going to admit how much he likes the name). He put on an old brown suit that was made nearly in the right time period, and put a long wool jacket on over it. He was a little surprised when he came out to find that John was still there, looking up at the explosions in the sky like it was only the 4th of July and not a war.
"What's your assignment?" Rodney asked again, trying to put a bit more authority behind it.
John just glanced at him sideways. "Maybe I'm here to stop you, did you ever think of that?"
"No, I didn't," Rodney said. "And no, you aren't, and not just because I'm unstoppable."
John sighed heavily. "You're not going to let up, are you? Look, I'm not on an assignment. I'm on vacation."
"No one vacations in World War II," Rodney snapped.
"I'm trying to start a trend," John told him. He looked down at Rodney's feet, and smiled when he noticed he was still wearing the sneakers.
Rodney stomped one of his feet when he realized he'd lost John's attention, and John glanced back up, raising an eyebrow. "I think you should just go home," Rodney said. "You're not meant to be here."
"Then tell me, Doctor," John said, "where am I meant to be?"
Rodney frowned. "Shouldn't you know?"
John laughed and turned away from him, walking down the street in the opposite direction of everyone else, disappearing far too quickly into the crazily running crowd. Rodney started after him, letting out a breath when he caught up. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked.
"Are you sure you want me to list everything?" John asked him, slipping into an ally.
"Look, maybe I'm being blunt, but you have a time you're supposed to be in," Rodney snapped. "I'm the one that doesn't."
"You seem just full of assumptions," John told him. "I don't have anywhere to go back to, Doctor."
"But you're a Time Agent, you--"
John shook his head. "I was a Time Agent. Haven't had time to change out of the uniform yet, that's all."
Rodney wanted to ask him more, wanted to say more, but a blue beam shot straight down from beside Big Ben, and John flashed him another grin and a small wave before he disappeared.
Apparently he wasn't kidding about the invisible ship, Rodney thought, as he stared up at the clear night sky.
Rodney doesn't expect he'll be seeing him again, so it takes him a little by surprise when he does not ten minutes later, dressed in a uniform more suited to the time now, fitting right in with the other members of the Royal Air Force.
Correction: Flirting with the other members of the Royal Air Force. Rodney had forgotten what those 51st century types were like--they'd sleep with anyone. Anything, if they were drunk enough.
This only confirmed Rodney's former suspicions. He was definitely up to something, because he'd just talked his way through the gate with a piece of blank paper for credentials. Rodney didn't know where he'd gotten his hands on psychic paper, it didn't come standard for Time Agents.
He huffed a little and made his way over. He caught sight of John just before he disappeared through the door. The guard at the gate frowned at him. "No civilians," he said.
The man had been a lot nicer to John, Rodney noted bitterly, and he was really going to have to add a RAF uniform to his wardrobe, eventually. He held up his own psychic paper. "I'm undercover," he said. "Didn't want to draw attention. Let me through."
The man reluctantly stepped aside, muttering something Rodney wished he hadn't caught. Rodney let it slide and slipped through the doors, trying to guess at which way John might have gone.
Rodney heard John laughing, and followed the sound to the right. He was up against a wall, another man leaning close in, whispering something to him. Rodney smirked when he saw John's hand slip to the man's belt, and soundlessly detach his keys, before putting them in his own coat. "You know better than to get so close here," John said, putting a hand on the man's chest and pushing him back. "We'll get caught, and what then?"
The man frowned. "I know," he snapped. "But you started it."
John smirked. "Yeah, I know, sorry about that. Moment of weakness."
"You're going to be the death of me, Jack," the man said.
Rodney frowned at the use of the name, before rolling his eyes. He was sure the man had a dozen of them. Jack and John and probably Tom, Dick and Harry too. Rodney waited until the man had gone down another hallway and John had started sifting through the keys to find the one he was looking for before he approached.
Rodney cleared his throat rather dramatically, but to John's credit, all he did was give a resigned kind of sigh and then slowly turn around. "Doctor," he said.
"I thought you said you weren't going to get into any trouble," Rodney said.
"If you weren't around I wouldn't be," John said. "Are you following me now?"
"I said I was going to keep an eye on you, remember?" Rodney asked. "I thought you said that would be fine by you."
John laughed again, and Rodney hated that it was kind of charming. "Yeah, you go ahead and follow me then, enjoy the view, but stay out of my way."
"That'll depend entirely on what you're doing," Rodney said.
John ignored him, grinning happily as he finally settled on a key. He slipped it into the lock and it clicked open in one turn. John went inside, and then reached out, grabbing Rodney by his shirt and tugging him in behind him. He closed and locked the door after them before switching on the lights.
Rodney gasped when he saw what was in the room. "That's brilliant," he said.
John nodded with a low whistle. "Pretty impressive, right? And these idiots got the bright idea that it'll end their war."
"It'll blow up the planet, is what it'll do," Rodney protested. "We've got to get it out of here."
"Now you're catching on," John said brightly. "Do you have any idea what it's worth?"
"It's a 69th century fusion powered warhead," Rodney said, "price is hardly--wait, wait a minute." Rodney spun his heel. "You're stealing this!"
John glanced at him, before turning back to the bomb controls. "Well, obviously," he said. "Can't get anything past you."
"No, but I mean, you're not trying to get it away from them, you just want to sell it," Rodney's voice had taken on a dark angry quality that had intimidated aliens three times his size, but John didn't seem to notice.
"I'm getting it away from them," John said. "And then I'm going to sell it. Everybody wins."
"That's despicable!" Rodney said. "We need to disarm it, neutralize it permanently."
John scrunched up his face. "Who would want to buy it then?"
"Exactly!" Rodney shouted.
"Obviously there's been some kind of miscommunication. I'm a criminal. I steal things. And unfortunately, the profit in stealing tends to come from the selling part that takes place afterward. Take that away, and there's really no point to it, is there?"
"We'd be saving your entire planet," Rodney snapped. "How is that not enough incentive?"
"That's just the bonus," John said.
"I can't let you do it," Rodney said. "I'm going to have to ask you to stop this instant."
John flashed him a crooked grin. "Does that ever work?"
Rodney frowns. "I'm very intimidating. I don't know why you seem immune, but I don't like it."
"Well, look, I feel I should tell you, we tripped a silent alarm when we came in here, so despite your moral outrage, do you think you could just help me get this thing safe for transport?"
Rodney leaned over the bomb and took out his sonic screwdriver. He aimed it at the bomb and the bomb whimpered and then shut down instantly. John looked taken aback by something for the first time Rodney met him.
"What the hell is that?" he asked.
Rodney spun it in his hand, pleased with himself despite his aforementioned moral outrage at his current situation. "It's a sonic screwdriver."
"A sonic screwdriver?" John repeated. "Who does that? Who looks at a screwdriver and thinks, this could be a little more sonic?"
"It worked, didn't it?" Rodney asked, defensive.
John rolled his eyes and then grabbed Rodney with one hand, and the bomb with the other. Next thing Rodney knew, they were standing in the middle of a ship. It was impressive, he had to admit, even if it couldn't hold a candle to his TARDIS.
It was not, however, in any way human, which meant John had probably been telling the truth when he said he wasn't a time agent anymore. And meant he'd probably stolen this too.
"It's Chula," John told him. "Nice, huh?"
"I'm not going to let you sell this!" Rodney snapped. "It doesn't belong in this time anymore than you do and I--"
"Oh, for god's sake, you make it sound like I'm off to sell it to the Nazi's. I'm going to trade it to the Time Agency, okay? They won't use it, they'll just put it in a room somewhere and call it the last resort."
Rodney frowned. "Why would you be selling it to the Time Agency if you just quit? Are you trying to get your job back, is that it? Because you're better off without them--"
John crossed his arms self-defensively. "They took something from me," he said. "I want it back."
"Well, you can't use this," Rodney said. "I've already rendered it worthless."
"No," John said, sounding completely vulnerable, and Rodney felt bad but he held his ground.
"Yes, I'm sorry, but it's too late--"
"No, I mean no," John snapped. "As in no, you didn't, it's just started counting down."
Rodney frowned. "That's not possible." He leaned over beside John, and watched as it counted down. "Huh. Well, I guess it's possible."
"What did you do to it?" John asked. "I thought you were mister mysterious, I know everything time guy, and you don't know how to deactivate a simple bomb?"
"I'd hardly call it a simple bomb, and you didn't have much luck, either, as I recall." Rodney frowned as he thought, before bouncing on his heels. "The transporter! It's Chula, highly unstable, it must have brought the bomb back to life."
"Oh, that's just brilliant," John said. "I knew you were trouble."
"I'm trouble?" Rodney asked. "You would have done this anyway."
"I was just going to shut the bomb down, it would have been fine," John said. "You wiped it completely, and Chula transporters are wired to fix anything mechanical in transport."
"Well, you could have mentioned that," Rodney protested.
"I didn't know what you'd done," John said.
"In my defense," Rodney said. "I don't think starting the bomb on a countdown is particularly intelligent. I say we just blame the Chula."
"We can blame anyone we like," John said, dropping into the pilot's seat. "We've still only got three minutes to get this bomb out of range of the planet."
"More than enough time," Rodney said, leaning over his chair.
John grinned. "Yeah, except I have a stop to make first."
"What could possibly be important enough--"
Rodney was cut off as John transported him off the ship, setting him down somewhere near his TARDIS before rocketing up and out of the atmosphere as fast as he could.
He'd always planned to go out in style, and all in all, he's had more time than he's known what to do with as it was.
"--that you have to," Rodney paused, realizing he wasn't where he'd been just a moment before. He looked up and saw a streak of blue light across the dark sky, growing smaller by the second before disappearing completely.
"Stupid humans," Rodney muttered, turning around and opening his TARDIS. He ran to the controls and started setting it up the way he wanted, careful to be precise. There wasn't any room for mistakes on this one.
The next time Rodney opened the door to the TARDIS, he was sitting in the middle of John's ship, and John was sitting in the pilot's chair with a martini and his feet up on the controls like he wasn't about to die.
"In, now, in in," Rodney snapped, before simply reaching out to grab John by the arm and tug him inside. He slammed the door shut and then turned back to the controls, not ready to test whether or not the TARDIS could survive the force of the bomb, he figured it was best to just get them as far from it as he could.
He thought 100,000,000 years ought to do the trick nicely.
"How," John started, before cutting himself of and walking further into the ship, spinning around and staring up at in awe. "This...this, is not a puddle jumper," he said.
"It's a TARDIS," Rodney told him. "The last one."
John ran his hands over the controls before glancing back at Rodney. "Why did you come back for me?"
"It's very rude to transport someone mid-sentence," Rodney said. "I wanted to have my say."
John grinned and then laughed, before turning to take in more of the massive ship.
"And you call yourself a criminal," Rodney said. "That wasn't really the criminal thing to do. You could have transported yourself off instead, you know I would have gotten the bomb away."
John shrugged. "Maybe I didn't trust you to do it."
Rodney frowned, remembering something John had said earlier. "You said trade before. You said you were going to trade the bomb to get something back. What?"
John didn't meet his eyes. "Part of my life," he said, before laughing again. Rodney noticed he did that a lot, and never genuinely. "They erased two years of my life. Gone. Just like that. Like it never happened, and as far as I'm concerned, I guess it might as well not have."
Rodney frowned. That was why he didn't like the Time Agency. Thought they were god. "I'm sorry," he said.
John shrugged. "Who knows," he said. "I'm probably better off without them anyway. I remember too much as it is."
John pulled his jacket around him a little tighter and then looked over at Rodney, looking a little uncertain for once. "I don't have a ship anymore," he said, shaking his head. "What am I going to do? Where am I going to go now?"
"Who said you have to go?" Rodney asked.
John relaxed almost instantly, morphing into the man Rodney first met, the one leaning seductively against his ship. "Is that an offer?" he asked.
"If you want," Rodney said. "For as long as you want."
John walked over to him, framed his face, and then kissed him. He pulled back breathless and smiling. "You're my hero, you know that?"
Rodney tried to disengage himself, but he wasn't having much luck, and he wasn't really trying that hard. "You saved my life too," he reminded him. "Although, I feel I should point out, you're definitely trouble, just as I thought."
"Think you can handle me?" John asked, grinning smugly.
Rodney shot his own version of that smile right back. "Lucky for you, I live for a challenge."