![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Fic: Dating the Cleverest Boy in the World. Chapter 9.
Hey would you look at this: An actual update! (Try not to faint.) I went back and checked when Chapter 8 was posted, and it was 2010... /o\ Um, apologies? I did post all of 'Alien Abduction' in between then and now... (Yeah, that's not much of an excuse. Sorry again.) Anyways, I'm imagining the reactions will go something like this:
Five Faithful Readers: Hurrah! Update!
Rest of Flist: Umm... Huh? *scroll past*
But for you five (OK, I think it's more than five, but you are certainly a select handful, and I love you all!) - this is going to be my main priority from now on. :) This chapter is more or less the companion piece to the last one - if you remember, then back then Allison met Alex's family. This time it's his turn to meet hers. (Fic index here if anyone wants to catch up. And on AO3 here.)
Summary: Allison had always thought that university would be an adventure. But she'd not imagined that she'd end up dating Harold Saxon's son.
Setting: 2025 (AU post-Sound of Drums)
Characters: OCs (Alex, Allison, Allison's family)
Rating: PG-13.
Wordcount: 6000+ words
Thank you's: To![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathyh for the look-through (all mistakes mine!) and to the_redjay for enabling my rambling.
Chapter 9
A few days before Christmas 2025.
Allison’s mother came to pick them up from the train station, and managed to flummox Alex within moments of meeting them. Allison wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or proud.
“Oh look at you!” her mother exclaimed, holding Alex out at arm’s length after giving him a thorough hug. “All tall and handsome, just like your father - the live chats didn’t do you justice at all!”
Tilting her head, her eyes narrowed.
“Yes, remarkably like your father - it’s almost uncanny. Well apart from the hair.”
Alex didn't move a muscle, but Allison could still sense the tenseness.
“Also I’m not evil,” he said lightly, and her mother waved her hand dismissively.
“Oh all politicians are evil. Your father at least had the grace to be handsome and charming. I voted for him then, and I’d vote for him again. The world’s going to pot anyway, at least with him around Prime Minister’s Question Time was enjoyable to watch.”
Slowly a wide smile spread across Alex’s face.
“Allie? I think I love your mum.”
Her mother laughed.
“And I got you to smile! Marvellous. Now, let’s get home and have a nice cup of tea, it’s freezing! Let’s hope it doesn’t snow...”
“Don’t worry,” Alex said as he picked up their bags, “there will be no snow until Christmas, I guarantee it!”
“Allison - he’s a treasure! This way - I parked down a side road where I didn’t have to pay...”
It was inevitable, Allison supposed, but she couldn’t stop herself from making comparisons. Not that their families were complete opposites, but Lucy’s quietly understated elegance was a million miles from her own mother’s sensible clothing (especially the bright green fleece and the well worn trainers), as well as the bobbed hair which spoke of a hairstyle chosen more for ease than for looks. Not that she could imagine her mother with any other hair cut...
When they reached the house Allison tried to see her home through Alex’s eyes - the tall, Victorian end terrace, the back door leading straight into the cosily cluttered kitchen where a pot of tea was brewing and a freshly-made cake was cooling.
If he didn’t love it, she’d probably have to break up with him.
“Allison,” her mother said, throwing her out of her thoughts, “why don’t you take your things upstairs? I’ve put Alex in Ella’s old room, so you’re only a door away from each other.”
“OK,” she answered, figuring she could do the tour of the house at the same time. Taking their bags up to the second floor, she casually opened the door to her own bedroom with her elbow - then stared in horror at the sight that greeted her before dropping one of the bags so quickly it almost landed on Alex’s foot as she slammed the door shut again.
Alex was looking at her in confusion, but she ignored him and yelled “Mum!” at the top of her voice.
“What is it?” her mother called back up the stairs, and Allison had to fight not to swear.
“My room! You just... left it...”
“I’m not your housekeeper dear,” her mother breezed in her best Mrs Hudson imitation, and Allison closed her eyes in frustration.
“That was never funny!” she said angrily, but her mother had obviously disappeared from hearing distance, and Alex - hopelessly curious as always - was now gently shifting her away from where she was trying block the door, so he could look inside.
Realising that the battle was lost, she let him open the door and then winced as his eyes grew.
“Wow. That’s... I thought you were tidy like me,” he said, looking around, and she tried her best to smile.
“I’ve been tying so hard to be organised these past few months... It was like a new start?”
He nodded, before gingerly taking a step inside and stopping as there wasn’t really any more floor space on which to stand.
“I think I’m impressed. This shows a commitment to mess that I’ve barely seen bettered...” He chuckled. “I should take a picture, just to show Ianto - he’d have a heart attack.”
“Who’s Ianto?” she asked weakly, and he turned to her.
“Jack’s other half. Well, they’re not actually married or anything, but they’ve been together since before I was born. Ianto keeps Jack in check... And tidies up after him. As I’m sure you can appreciate, this is a full time job.”
Although grateful for the diversion, Allison still felt pretty mortified. She’d been doing so well...
(Alex’s bedroom had been as tidy as the one in Cambridge. Old toys neatly lined up on shelves, a choice assortment of books above the desk, a few posters, a wardrobe... “So, where do you keep all your stuff?” she’d asked, half-joking, and he’d shot her an inscrutable look and replied: “Elsewhere.”
When she had lifted a droll eyebrow at him, unamused, he’d abruptly lowered his eyes, seemingly speaking more to himself than to her, voice quiet, but suddenly brimming with emotions. “But it is. I was leaving, so I moved stuff. I was going to be free...”
She’d not known what to say, but then he’d taken a deep breath before smiling wryly.
“And that’s enough self-pity for one day. Come along and choose a guest room...” After that of course there had been the tea party interrupted by his alien-fighting uncle and she’d almost forgotten about his room. His very, very tidy room, and the ‘elsewhere’ where he kept most of his stuff...)
In her case of course, then ‘Where do you keep all your stuff?’ was entirely too obvious.
“So, Ella’s room is there on your right,” she said instead, silently wondering about mothers and... sleeping arrangements. And pondering if she could maybe get him to talk about what he’d wanted to do before he’d been sent to Cambridge.
But first there was the obligatory tea and cake. Remembering her nervousness at Alex’s home, Allison thought to herself that at least no alien hunters were likely to interrupt this little tea party. There were only herself and Alex, her parents, and Jimmy, and Allison’s nervousness began making itself felt again - Jimmy was just so unpredictable. A pox on all little brothers...
Thankfully, after ascertaining that Alex wasn’t interested in rugby, Jimmy concentrated on stuffing his face with cake, so their father was leading the conversation - which of course meant that history came up after about 30 seconds.
“So,” he said, studying Alex over the top of his glasses, “Allison tells me that you are very fond of history. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you not chose it as your area of study?”
Alex shrugged.
“The courses were far too restrictive.”
Jimmy, as always failing to understand the academic mind, stared blankly, a half-eaten piece of cake paused in mid-air.
“Too... restrictive?”
Leaning forward, Alex’s features got more animated, his tea forgotten.
“History isn’t ‘a’ subject, it’s the subject. It contains everything else, is the record of everything else. Language, maths, science, music, art, sociology, psychology, architecture, medicine... History encompasses it all.”
Allison’s father - a history teacher through and through - looked as if it was Christmas already.
“Young man...” he began warmly, before having to remove his glasses, polish them, and then examine Alex anew, “I cannot begin to explain how wonderful it is to meet someone like you. The times I have tried to impart this insight to my pupils, to my own children...”
He sighed, and Alex grinned.
“Allison, I must once again compliment you on your parentage.”
“But,” Jimmy continued, stubborn as ever, and blithely ignoring the conversation he was interrupting, “When you say ‘too restrictive’, what did you want to do? Study everything?”
“Yes,” Alex replied completely straight-faced. “But for some reason no one at Cambridge wanted a comprehensive history of the world. Their loss.”
Jimmy now had that selfsame obstinate look on his face that Mike usually had.
“Cause you could have written that in three years,” he said, around the last bit of cake, but sarcasm was wasted on Alex.
“Easily,” he replied, coolly smug, “I’m the cleverest boy in the world, didn’t you know?”
Jimmy leaned backwards, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Cleverest, is that so?”
Alex’s eyes were dancing, and Allison tried not to sigh as she saw the showing-off gene raise its head again. She shot her mother a weary look (momentarily ignoring the fact that she was cross with her) and her mother stifled a smile.
“Try me,” Alex said.
“What do you mean?”
“Ask me anything. Anything at all. Any subject.”
Jimmy stared for a moment, taking the implications on board, then his eyes narrowed.
“So, there’s this guy who knows pi to 40,000 decimal points...”
Alex lifted an eyebrow.
“Only 40,000? Well it’s a start I suppose.”
Taken aback, Jimmy clearly couldn’t believe his ears.
“You know more than that?”
A grin which was pure Saxon; unbearably smug, if it hadn’t been that it was so charming at the same time.
“I know all of it.”
A beat, as Jimmy stared.
“But isn’t it, like, infinite...”
”Yes it is. And I know all of it.”
At which point the conversation was interrupted by Allison’s father bursting out laughing.
“Fantastic. All the points to the Saxon team. Jimmy - give over. He’s not just clever, he’s smart too! All of it. He knows all of it.”
He chuckled and took a sip of his tea, shoulders shaking.
“Just wait until I tell the fellas tomorrow at work. All of it. Beautiful.”
“Dad!” Jimmy protested, and their father fixed him with a fond glance.
“Yes Jimmy, it’s impossible. But you’ll never, ever be able to prove him wrong. Alex - you’ve obviously inherited your father’s brains. Well played young Master Saxon, well played.”
Alex was still smiling, but strangely enough Allison had the impression that her father’s reaction had thrown him as much as it had Jimmy.
But then the talk turned to historical re-enactments, and from then it was no time at all until all the boys decided to go out into her father’s shed to look at all his uniforms and weapons.
Allison looked at her mother as the backdoor slammed, and her mother smiled back.
“Well Allie, would you like to help me clear the table?”
“I suppose,” she said. At least this time the ‘men’ hadn’t gone off to fight actual aliens, just imaginary people from the past - and she knew that if she started saying something about Traditional Gender Roles, her mother would just raise an eyebrow and ask whether she’d rather be outside in the cold, play-acting, or inside the warm kitchen.
It was no contest.
Although looking out of the kitchen window a short while later, watching as Alex and Jimmy had a mock sword fight, she couldn't help silently admiring Alex’s effortless brilliance, as he meticulously and flawlessly demonstrated various moves to Jimmy.
“He certainly is a talented young man,” Allison’s mother remarked, and Allison smiled to herself, not quite watching what she was saying.
“Oh yes - he really is good at everything,” she said, somewhat dreamily, watching as he lithely stepped out of the way of Jimmy’s assault. Moved like a dancer, and so in control...
Her mother’s next words, however, snapped out of her mood very effectively.
“You are being careful, right?” she asked, studying Allison with that no-nonsense face that Allison dreaded above all others, and she could feel her cheeks going hot.
“Mum!” she said, mortified (she was not discussing this with her mother, oh no), and then - realising that her mother was not going to let it go - swallowed and tried to find somewhere to look.
“Yes. Yes of course we are. Very, even.”
(Alex was borderline paranoid, but she really didn’t want to talk about the subject at all.)
Studying her for another long moment, her mother finally nodded.
“Good. I know you’re young, and in love, and that you currently have the freedom to do what you want for the first time, and I would never want to curtail that. However, your father can talk about feminism until he’s blue in the face, but it still doesn’t alter basic biology - until it’s the men who get pregnant, you’re the one who’s going to be worse off if something happens.”
“Yes mum,” she said, keeping her eyes lowered and praying that the ordeal was over now. Her mother had said her piece and surely that would be it, right?
But after another pause her mother said “Allison,” waiting until she looked up before continuing.
“Have you never wondered why your father is such an ardent feminist?”
Allison looked at her blankly. It was just part of who he was - her mother might as well have asked why he wore hideous corduroy trousers. Instead her mother continued, an oddly wistful look on her face:
“I don’t suppose you really took on board what it meant to take my final university exams whilst eight months’ pregnant?”
Not really having an answer for this, Allison mutely shook her head. She’d often enough heard the stories about her parents’ graduation and all the issues with baby Amanda, because her father had insisted on bringing her along - old stories (Amanda screaming her head off during the main speech, Amanda throwing up on the Dean), polished and familiar and somehow unreal in the way stories often were. It shocked Allison to realise that her mother had then only been a few years older than she was now.
“Don’t get me wrong,” her mother continued, “I have never, not for one single moment, regretted having Amanda. Or any of you for that matter. But. I would undoubtedly have had more opportunities in my life without you lot. Certainly without having you so young. And your father knows this. Not that I ever blamed him, but you know what he’s like - he never stopped blaming himself. It is without question the reason he’s been pushing you girls the way he has. The way he sees it he’s making up for ruining the career I might have had.”
“Mum...” Allison said feebly, feeling that peculiar sensation of finally getting something she’d always hoped for and realising that it was very different from what she’d expected. She’d wanted her parents to treat her as a proper adult for ages, but this... She wasn’t sure this brutal honesty was what she’d wished for.
Her mother smiled, and gently cupped her face with both hands.
“You might change the world, Allie dearest. I remember you in your pushchair, when you were just a toddler, looking at the stars and asking how they got up there. And you’ve never stopped. You are brilliant, and don’t let anyone - no matter how clever or handsome - steer you away from the path you should go.”
She’d expected Alex’s mother to have a go at her, to worry if she’d hold him back. This came out of the left field, and all she could think to do was nod and say “Yes mum, I promise.”
Then she pulled herself together a bit, and added, “Well we might be like the Curies, you never know. Without the deadly radio activeness, obviously.”
At which point her mother shook her head and muttered about young love, and Allison could try to breathe again.
A few seconds later the mood was thoroughly broken by Jimmy slamming open the door, declaring:
“So, Alex says that his uncle once saved the world with a sword fight-”
To which her mother’s immediate response was, “What have I told you about bringing swords into the house!” and normality was restored.
Still; Allison kept feeling somewhat unsettled for the rest of the day, and was immensely grateful when Ella turned up shortly after dinner, family in tow.
Ella - the ultimate teenage tearaway, who had given their mother more grey hairs than the rest of them combined - had surprised most people by settling down for married bliss with a genuinely decent police officer in her early twenties, establishing herself as the ultimate domestic-goddess-stay-at-home-mum as if she’d never been out partying until the small hours of the morning, with a string of disreputable boyfriends...
Allison sometimes wondered if their father realised that her current role was as much of a rebellion as her previous one had been - she hoped not.
And then her thoughts immediately returned to her mother’s words... Thinking to herself that really mum oughtn’t to worry. Amanda had always been the Golden Child, forever spurred on by their father’s relentless encouragement, and Ella had been the opposite - both of them shaped by his vision in one way or another. Allison had - possibly instinctively - rejected this and always done what she’d wanted, turning a deaf ear to compliments and criticism alike.
She was thrown out of her musings by an insistent 3 year old, shouting that ‘Auntie Al’ needed to see how clever he was at doing somersaults, so she obediently did as she was told, as well as explaining that she was ‘Auntie Allie’ and that Uncle Jimmy was in a lot of trouble now for teaching poor innocents the wrong names.
After this had been sorted she had to admire the baby (9 months old, it was scary how time flew), and after taking turns cuddling him (before he began to smell and he was handed back), they all ended up around the kitchen table, the biscuit tin in the middle and cups of tea all round, as the dishwasher hummed in the background. It was the very definition of ‘family’ to Allison and she eagerly soaked up the atmosphere that she had sorely missed whilst away.
Later that night, when Ella & co had left and everyone was in bed, Allison decided to copy Alex’s actions at his home and silently tiptoed to his room. (She knew where all the squeaky floorboards were thanks to Ella - she had tried to explain that she wasn’t in the least interested in sneaking around, but Ella had just lifted an eyebrow and continued her instruction. Allison still remembered it now 5 years later.)
Alex wasn’t asleep, but put his laptop away when he saw her and made room for her in the bed. His opening line wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting however:
“So... who’s the boy you were kissing?”
She stared at him, utterly thrown.
“What boy? Where? What are you talking about?”
“The boy in the picture. On your big pin board.”
His eyes unfocused, as he slowly kept talking.
“Bottom right hand side, between the one of you in a prom dress and the one of Amanda’s children.”
“You were in my room for what... seconds? And you remember that?”
He studied her, a quiet exasperation on his face.
“I remember everything. I could tell you where everything - everything that I could see, that is - is in your room.”
As she didn’t answer, he tilted his head.
“I keep saying this, but no one ever seems to take it on board: I am really, really clever. I can do things normal people can’t. I’m like... Like Sherlock, but better. Now, please tell me - who was he? He looked very cute, you’ve obviously always had good taste.”
For a moment she tried to just shuffle her thoughts around, but it all came back to ‘Yes he’s really clever’ and ‘Goodness he doesn’t even understand the concept of jealousy...’ And he was still waiting for an answer... At which point she suddenly realised that she could try to - vaguely - put her mother’s message across.
Aiming for briefness she explained how that boy had been her first proper boyfriend (her first in almost every way, but there were limits to what she was going to share), and although she’d really really liked him, she’d realised that it wasn’t possible to keep a boyfriend and concentrate on her A-Levels, so she’d dumped him.
Alex listened with perfect composure, but was unable to stop a small smile forming as he replied to her unspoken statement.
“Message received and understood. And don’t worry Allie - I’ll never get in your way of achieving what you’re capable of. No...” he reached out, touched her cheek, the smile fading. “If you leave me it will be for quite, quite different reasons...”
Not having a clue what to say to that she decided to just kiss him, and that worked exceedingly well in getting him out of his weird mood.
***
The following day they went into Leicester to ‘see the sights’ (and maybe do some shopping - Allison had a long list of Christmas presents to buy still) and, because Alex insisted, went to see the castle and the Newarke Houses Museums and Galleries. Having trudged through these an infinite amount of times during her childhood, Allison wasn’t just bored out of her mind, she was also worried at how closely Alex’s enthusiasm mirrored her father’s, and had to forcibly remind herself that in most ways he was very different. Although he even did her father’s trick of talking to all the guides and getting all kinds of extra details out of them; as the morning wore on she gritted her teeth and glumly thought that he’d been right the night before - there were a whole heap of reasons she might decide to leave...
Shopping proved more enjoyable, although when she tried to hint that various items they came across might make good presents for her he just smiled mysteriously and said that her present was all sorted already.
“Can I have it early?” she asked, tugging at his duffel coat in a blunt-as-a-brick attempt to remind him that he was wearing his present, but he just smiled and shook his head.
That evening her mother started one of her impromptu music gatherings, which of course gave Alex another opportunity to show off, playing anything she put in front of him flawlessly.
When the session finally wrapped up, Allison noticed her mother and Alex quietly talking in a corner, and tried to make her way into hearing distance as subtly as possibly, half-alarmed that her mother was giving Alex ‘A Talk’.
What she heard however, when she got close enough, was her mother saying, “Are you sure?”, a surprised, but genuinely pleased, smile on her face, and Alex replying, “Absolutely - I was going to ask anyway.”
Her mother tilted her head and studied him, with a look that made Allison think that Alex had quite probably done what-ever-it-took to thoroughly win her mother over.
“You really are something else, Alexander Saxon,” her mother finally said, and in response he only smiled.
***
The next day promised better things. They were going to what might be Allison's favourite place in the world - certainly the place that had cemented her future in ways she couldn’t even begin to describe. And since Alex was loaded, she figured he wouldn’t mind paying.
The National Space Centre still looked like a giant, white, futuristic beehive, and she could feel her own excitement mounting as they drove up the road towards it. If she could, she’d live here...
As Alex had never been (something she found hard to believe), she eagerly dragged him through everything on offer - the Stellarium, the Rocket Tower, every exhibit and corner she could find, although oddly though, Alex seemed almost subdued throughout - not disinterested at all, but somehow withdrawn in his appreciation. Which was - if Allison was completely honest - a bit of relief.
Finally they ended up in the Planetarium, which, as always, reduced her to silent awe and wonder, as she lost herself to space and endless possibility.
When the lights finally came back on, her head still spinning with stars and beauty, he had gone completely still, looking almost lost. She took his hand.
“I know, it has that effect on me too...”
He turned to her abruptly, shaking his head and eyes flashing as he gripped her hand hard.
“No. You have no idea what I’m feeling.”
Letting go, as if scared he’d hurt her, he curled up, burying his head in his hands, as she started at him in shock.
“Alex... are you OK?”
“No, I’m really not,” he said, voice muffled, and then - lifting his head - gazed up at the now idle dome above them.
“I shouldn’t have agreed to come here, sorry. It’s too well done and... it’s just an illusion. Like a picture of a glass of water in the desert. I can’t get out there - I can’t get out there at all...”
Gently putting a hand on his shoulder, she couldn’t help smiling as she answered.
“But that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? Learning about it all so one day we will be able to go out there...”
He turned his head and looked at her - just looked - for the longest time, and then smiled a smile that was at once luminous and apologetic.
“You are wonderful, and I am sorry. I knew I was over privileged, but never realised I had quite such a talent for melodrama. I thought my disposition better tempered. I promise to do better from now on.”
“You are... so weird,” she said finally, and he laughed.
“Oh yes. I believe this has been stated many times over by now. C’mon - I’ll drive us back, so you can just relax.”
This last statement, as it turned out, was possibly some kind of elaborate joke - so convoluted that the point even missed Alex himself.
When they finally got home, her mother took one look at her face as she walked through the door and her eyes narrowed.
“Allie. What’s the matter?”
“My boyfriend,”Allison said, with feeling, “drives like a grandma.”
Alex, closing the door behind them, opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.
“No, scratch that, he makes grandmas look like risk-taking racing drivers.”
“Cars,” Alex said in his best know-it-all-voice, “are tiny little death traps on wheels. And drivers are erratic and often half asleep or just useless at steering. I’d rather be slow, but safe, than risk getting you killed because of a business man in an Audi who needs to be in Wolverhampton in half an hour and has only had a cup of coffee since 7 o’clock this morning.”
Allison looked at her mother with quiet exasperation.
“I’ve had this all the way home. Help me.”
Her mother, of course, just laughed.
After tea, Allison was wondering what to do (watching TV seemed a bit dull, and she wasn’t having another music evening), when suddenly the back door burst open and there was a chorus of “Aliiiiiiiiiiiiii!”
Running into the kitchen she was immediately drowned in hugs and kisses from her four best friends.
“What are you doing here?” Allison asked when the profuse greetings had subsided, “I thought you were-”
She waved a hand to indicate the four corners they’d all been scattered to, and they laughed conspiratorially.
“We were sneaky and planned to come see you, because it’s been forever, Little Miss Clever,” they started explaining, but a soft chuckle cut them off.
Turning, Allison saw Alex draped in the doorway, as casually suave as James Bond (if James Bond ever wore jeans & a T-shirt) and with a smile no less self-assured.
“You’ve come to see me,” he said, looking the group over, and Allison could almost feel her friends’ curiosity go through the roof.
“Oh my god, listen to him!" "Who does he think he is?”
They were rounding on him now, and most normal boys would be quaking in their boots. Alex, of course, was far from normal, and Allison knew that rather than being intimidated, he was enjoying himself far too much.
“I think..." he said slowly, "That I’m a genuine gentleman,” and taking the hand of the nearest girl, he kissed the back of it with utmost grace, “and I am utterly charmed to meet you.”
For just a second he shot Allison a look, winking, and she had to cover her laughter with a cough.
“Um guys - my boyfriend, Alexander Saxon.”
It turned out to be a truly marvellous evening. When questioned closer on the ‘gentleman’ claim, Alex happily expanded up on the fact that he was Lord Cole’s nephew and second in line to the title - after which he promptly offered to introduce them all to his cousin Geoffrey, but only if they promised to, if at all possible, marry the young man in question and have many, many children so Alex would never have to be bothered with large, ostentatious country houses and piles of money.
"He's not joking," Allison said, and then Alex offered to get them all drinks. He proceeded to spend the rest of the evening being attentive, witty and charming to such an extent that when her friends finally left - close to midnight - he had them practically eating out of his hand, and they declared him the catch of the Century as they walked out to the waiting taxi.
That night, as Allison was getting ready for bed, she couldn't help turning the last few days over in her head. Most people, as one got to know them, showed a certain consistency in their behaviour, but Alex... Alex really was different. The longer she knew him, the more sides he seemed to display - during the last few days she'd had the inveterate show off, the history enthusiast, the anguished star gazer, the pedantic driver and now the consummate charmer, to name but the most prominent of his facets... She remembered finding this chameleon talent a bit disturbing back when they'd first met - unsure if any of it was actually the 'real' him, or just some kind of performance. Now she was leaning more towards the idea that he was quite simply a collection of all these different aspects, and at some point she'd have a more or less complete picture - like collecting pieces of a jigsaw.
She mentioned this as she kissed him goodnight a little later, and he tilted his head, the light above illuminating his hair like a halo. For a second she felt like the world went topsy turvy - it was Alexander Saxon, someone who had until less than half a year ago been a figure only known faintly from newspapers, and he was standing there on her landing. Then he spoke, and the odd spell was broken.
"As always, you are exceedingly perceptive, Allie. Although I wonder what you will make of the whole picture once you have it..."
She shook her head. If obliqueness was a virtue, it was one he had in abundance. And yet - the moment in the Planetarium kept coming back to her. For the briefest moment something had happened to throw him out of his usual equilibrium, and she had seen something... raw and vulnerable that she didn’t know how to deal with. And neither did he, clearly. He’d sealed up so impeccably that she almost felt she had dreamt it, but not knowing how to broach the subject, she decided to ask Matt and Josh once they were all back at Cambridge.
The final thought in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, however, was a deeply reassuring one: Despite all the talk about History, his heart obviously belonged to the stars, just the same as hers.
***
The last day, and as they stood on the cold train platform waiting, her mother pulled a small pot with a twig in it out of her sturdy bag, and handed it over to Alex. Allison raised an eyebrow, but Alex's face broke out into a wide grin.
"Thank you, that's perfect."
Her mother looked slightly concerned.
"Cuttings are supposed to be done in late summer..." she began, but he took the pot and looked at the twig with great appreciation.
"Oh I'm very good at growing things," he said, and Allison tapped her mother’s shoulder.
"What is it?" she asked, and her mother smiled.
"A cutting from the plum tree - I asked him what he’d like as a Christmas present, and that is what he chose."
"I'll make my own plum jam in future," he said happily, and Allison shook her head.
"In, like, twenty years time," she replied, and he studied the tiny twig fondly.
"I'm very patient," he said, before pulling out a very small and very light present from a pocket, telling her to under no circumstances to open it before Christmas morning.
Then Toby’s train pulled up to the platform, and there were quick introductions and shaking of hands, until Alex looked up and pulled a face.
“The Cardiff train will be here soon. Better get across the tracks.”
Allison frowned.
“Cardiff? Aren’t you going home?”
“A boy’s holidays are his own property,” Alex said with dancing eyes, “And I am going on the road with Mahbub Ali.”
“You... what?”
He chuckled. “Sorry, literary reference - Kim, by Kipling. I’ve found it rather apropos recently. Essentially this is the compromise I reached with my Uncle, if you remember? I’m allowed a modicum of freedom in my holidays, so I’m off to Jack’s.”
“But it’s Christmas in two day’s time,” she said, and he shrugged, eyes still wide and happy. “I’ll stretch them if need be.”
“Good luck with that,” she answered, smiling to take the edge off the words, and he laughed again.
”Time is a funny thing.”
And then, after a swift, if dizzying kiss, he was gone, holdall over one shoulder and twiglet cradled in his left hand.
***
Allison discovered that Alex had been only too right when he talked about time stretching, as the two days in question turned out to be almost impossibly long. Partly because she missed Alex, who might as well have vanished off the face of the Earth for all she could get hold of him (‘Torchwood regrets to inform you that the person you are trying to get hold of is currently unavailable’ the polite recording repeated every time she called; 'Boys', she thought, and refused to worry), and partly because she was driven to distraction by trying to work out what was inside the tiny box he’d given her.
Having come up with approximately half a million different possibilities, the reality still managed to stun her as she finally stared into the inside of it on Christmas Morning, forgetting about the multicoloured tree, the tea cup on the table next to her, the decorations and the Christmas music playing on the radio as well as the rest of her family who were tearing into their own presents.
"So, what did he get you?" Jimmy asked nosily, and she slowly picked up the small pieces of paper that might just as well have been made of fairy dust, for all that she'd ever expected to hold one in her hand.
"Tickets to the Live Simpsons Musical," she said faintly.
The Simpsons Musical... The first proper hologram musical, a feat of engineering and invention and musical ingenuity, the tickets for which were more expensive than gold; and they were hers.
Looking in the box, she saw a note.
"Why 'S'?" Jimmy asked, puzzled, and Allison answered distractedly, voice distant.
"For Saxon. He always signs stuff that way."
She didn't care how he signed his name, didn't care that he was weird and strange with multiple personalities and sometimes moody. All she could think was: 'He is the perfect boyfriend.'
Chapter 10
Five Faithful Readers: Hurrah! Update!
Rest of Flist: Umm... Huh? *scroll past*
But for you five (OK, I think it's more than five, but you are certainly a select handful, and I love you all!) - this is going to be my main priority from now on. :) This chapter is more or less the companion piece to the last one - if you remember, then back then Allison met Alex's family. This time it's his turn to meet hers. (Fic index here if anyone wants to catch up. And on AO3 here.)
Summary: Allison had always thought that university would be an adventure. But she'd not imagined that she'd end up dating Harold Saxon's son.
Setting: 2025 (AU post-Sound of Drums)
Characters: OCs (Alex, Allison, Allison's family)
Rating: PG-13.
Wordcount: 6000+ words
Thank you's: To
kathyh for the look-through (all mistakes mine!) and to the_redjay for enabling my rambling.A few days before Christmas 2025.
Allison’s mother came to pick them up from the train station, and managed to flummox Alex within moments of meeting them. Allison wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or proud.
“Oh look at you!” her mother exclaimed, holding Alex out at arm’s length after giving him a thorough hug. “All tall and handsome, just like your father - the live chats didn’t do you justice at all!”
Tilting her head, her eyes narrowed.
“Yes, remarkably like your father - it’s almost uncanny. Well apart from the hair.”
Alex didn't move a muscle, but Allison could still sense the tenseness.
“Also I’m not evil,” he said lightly, and her mother waved her hand dismissively.
“Oh all politicians are evil. Your father at least had the grace to be handsome and charming. I voted for him then, and I’d vote for him again. The world’s going to pot anyway, at least with him around Prime Minister’s Question Time was enjoyable to watch.”
Slowly a wide smile spread across Alex’s face.
“Allie? I think I love your mum.”
Her mother laughed.
“And I got you to smile! Marvellous. Now, let’s get home and have a nice cup of tea, it’s freezing! Let’s hope it doesn’t snow...”
“Don’t worry,” Alex said as he picked up their bags, “there will be no snow until Christmas, I guarantee it!”
“Allison - he’s a treasure! This way - I parked down a side road where I didn’t have to pay...”
It was inevitable, Allison supposed, but she couldn’t stop herself from making comparisons. Not that their families were complete opposites, but Lucy’s quietly understated elegance was a million miles from her own mother’s sensible clothing (especially the bright green fleece and the well worn trainers), as well as the bobbed hair which spoke of a hairstyle chosen more for ease than for looks. Not that she could imagine her mother with any other hair cut...
When they reached the house Allison tried to see her home through Alex’s eyes - the tall, Victorian end terrace, the back door leading straight into the cosily cluttered kitchen where a pot of tea was brewing and a freshly-made cake was cooling.
If he didn’t love it, she’d probably have to break up with him.
“Allison,” her mother said, throwing her out of her thoughts, “why don’t you take your things upstairs? I’ve put Alex in Ella’s old room, so you’re only a door away from each other.”
“OK,” she answered, figuring she could do the tour of the house at the same time. Taking their bags up to the second floor, she casually opened the door to her own bedroom with her elbow - then stared in horror at the sight that greeted her before dropping one of the bags so quickly it almost landed on Alex’s foot as she slammed the door shut again.
Alex was looking at her in confusion, but she ignored him and yelled “Mum!” at the top of her voice.
“What is it?” her mother called back up the stairs, and Allison had to fight not to swear.
“My room! You just... left it...”
“I’m not your housekeeper dear,” her mother breezed in her best Mrs Hudson imitation, and Allison closed her eyes in frustration.
“That was never funny!” she said angrily, but her mother had obviously disappeared from hearing distance, and Alex - hopelessly curious as always - was now gently shifting her away from where she was trying block the door, so he could look inside.
Realising that the battle was lost, she let him open the door and then winced as his eyes grew.
“Wow. That’s... I thought you were tidy like me,” he said, looking around, and she tried her best to smile.
“I’ve been tying so hard to be organised these past few months... It was like a new start?”
He nodded, before gingerly taking a step inside and stopping as there wasn’t really any more floor space on which to stand.
“I think I’m impressed. This shows a commitment to mess that I’ve barely seen bettered...” He chuckled. “I should take a picture, just to show Ianto - he’d have a heart attack.”
“Who’s Ianto?” she asked weakly, and he turned to her.
“Jack’s other half. Well, they’re not actually married or anything, but they’ve been together since before I was born. Ianto keeps Jack in check... And tidies up after him. As I’m sure you can appreciate, this is a full time job.”
Although grateful for the diversion, Allison still felt pretty mortified. She’d been doing so well...
(Alex’s bedroom had been as tidy as the one in Cambridge. Old toys neatly lined up on shelves, a choice assortment of books above the desk, a few posters, a wardrobe... “So, where do you keep all your stuff?” she’d asked, half-joking, and he’d shot her an inscrutable look and replied: “Elsewhere.”
When she had lifted a droll eyebrow at him, unamused, he’d abruptly lowered his eyes, seemingly speaking more to himself than to her, voice quiet, but suddenly brimming with emotions. “But it is. I was leaving, so I moved stuff. I was going to be free...”
She’d not known what to say, but then he’d taken a deep breath before smiling wryly.
“And that’s enough self-pity for one day. Come along and choose a guest room...” After that of course there had been the tea party interrupted by his alien-fighting uncle and she’d almost forgotten about his room. His very, very tidy room, and the ‘elsewhere’ where he kept most of his stuff...)
In her case of course, then ‘Where do you keep all your stuff?’ was entirely too obvious.
“So, Ella’s room is there on your right,” she said instead, silently wondering about mothers and... sleeping arrangements. And pondering if she could maybe get him to talk about what he’d wanted to do before he’d been sent to Cambridge.
But first there was the obligatory tea and cake. Remembering her nervousness at Alex’s home, Allison thought to herself that at least no alien hunters were likely to interrupt this little tea party. There were only herself and Alex, her parents, and Jimmy, and Allison’s nervousness began making itself felt again - Jimmy was just so unpredictable. A pox on all little brothers...
Thankfully, after ascertaining that Alex wasn’t interested in rugby, Jimmy concentrated on stuffing his face with cake, so their father was leading the conversation - which of course meant that history came up after about 30 seconds.
“So,” he said, studying Alex over the top of his glasses, “Allison tells me that you are very fond of history. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you not chose it as your area of study?”
Alex shrugged.
“The courses were far too restrictive.”
Jimmy, as always failing to understand the academic mind, stared blankly, a half-eaten piece of cake paused in mid-air.
“Too... restrictive?”
Leaning forward, Alex’s features got more animated, his tea forgotten.
“History isn’t ‘a’ subject, it’s the subject. It contains everything else, is the record of everything else. Language, maths, science, music, art, sociology, psychology, architecture, medicine... History encompasses it all.”
Allison’s father - a history teacher through and through - looked as if it was Christmas already.
“Young man...” he began warmly, before having to remove his glasses, polish them, and then examine Alex anew, “I cannot begin to explain how wonderful it is to meet someone like you. The times I have tried to impart this insight to my pupils, to my own children...”
He sighed, and Alex grinned.
“Allison, I must once again compliment you on your parentage.”
“But,” Jimmy continued, stubborn as ever, and blithely ignoring the conversation he was interrupting, “When you say ‘too restrictive’, what did you want to do? Study everything?”
“Yes,” Alex replied completely straight-faced. “But for some reason no one at Cambridge wanted a comprehensive history of the world. Their loss.”
Jimmy now had that selfsame obstinate look on his face that Mike usually had.
“Cause you could have written that in three years,” he said, around the last bit of cake, but sarcasm was wasted on Alex.
“Easily,” he replied, coolly smug, “I’m the cleverest boy in the world, didn’t you know?”
Jimmy leaned backwards, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Cleverest, is that so?”
Alex’s eyes were dancing, and Allison tried not to sigh as she saw the showing-off gene raise its head again. She shot her mother a weary look (momentarily ignoring the fact that she was cross with her) and her mother stifled a smile.
“Try me,” Alex said.
“What do you mean?”
“Ask me anything. Anything at all. Any subject.”
Jimmy stared for a moment, taking the implications on board, then his eyes narrowed.
“So, there’s this guy who knows pi to 40,000 decimal points...”
Alex lifted an eyebrow.
“Only 40,000? Well it’s a start I suppose.”
Taken aback, Jimmy clearly couldn’t believe his ears.
“You know more than that?”
A grin which was pure Saxon; unbearably smug, if it hadn’t been that it was so charming at the same time.
“I know all of it.”
A beat, as Jimmy stared.
“But isn’t it, like, infinite...”
”Yes it is. And I know all of it.”
At which point the conversation was interrupted by Allison’s father bursting out laughing.
“Fantastic. All the points to the Saxon team. Jimmy - give over. He’s not just clever, he’s smart too! All of it. He knows all of it.”
He chuckled and took a sip of his tea, shoulders shaking.
“Just wait until I tell the fellas tomorrow at work. All of it. Beautiful.”
“Dad!” Jimmy protested, and their father fixed him with a fond glance.
“Yes Jimmy, it’s impossible. But you’ll never, ever be able to prove him wrong. Alex - you’ve obviously inherited your father’s brains. Well played young Master Saxon, well played.”
Alex was still smiling, but strangely enough Allison had the impression that her father’s reaction had thrown him as much as it had Jimmy.
But then the talk turned to historical re-enactments, and from then it was no time at all until all the boys decided to go out into her father’s shed to look at all his uniforms and weapons.
Allison looked at her mother as the backdoor slammed, and her mother smiled back.
“Well Allie, would you like to help me clear the table?”
“I suppose,” she said. At least this time the ‘men’ hadn’t gone off to fight actual aliens, just imaginary people from the past - and she knew that if she started saying something about Traditional Gender Roles, her mother would just raise an eyebrow and ask whether she’d rather be outside in the cold, play-acting, or inside the warm kitchen.
It was no contest.
Although looking out of the kitchen window a short while later, watching as Alex and Jimmy had a mock sword fight, she couldn't help silently admiring Alex’s effortless brilliance, as he meticulously and flawlessly demonstrated various moves to Jimmy.
“He certainly is a talented young man,” Allison’s mother remarked, and Allison smiled to herself, not quite watching what she was saying.
“Oh yes - he really is good at everything,” she said, somewhat dreamily, watching as he lithely stepped out of the way of Jimmy’s assault. Moved like a dancer, and so in control...
Her mother’s next words, however, snapped out of her mood very effectively.
“You are being careful, right?” she asked, studying Allison with that no-nonsense face that Allison dreaded above all others, and she could feel her cheeks going hot.
“Mum!” she said, mortified (she was not discussing this with her mother, oh no), and then - realising that her mother was not going to let it go - swallowed and tried to find somewhere to look.
“Yes. Yes of course we are. Very, even.”
(Alex was borderline paranoid, but she really didn’t want to talk about the subject at all.)
Studying her for another long moment, her mother finally nodded.
“Good. I know you’re young, and in love, and that you currently have the freedom to do what you want for the first time, and I would never want to curtail that. However, your father can talk about feminism until he’s blue in the face, but it still doesn’t alter basic biology - until it’s the men who get pregnant, you’re the one who’s going to be worse off if something happens.”
“Yes mum,” she said, keeping her eyes lowered and praying that the ordeal was over now. Her mother had said her piece and surely that would be it, right?
But after another pause her mother said “Allison,” waiting until she looked up before continuing.
“Have you never wondered why your father is such an ardent feminist?”
Allison looked at her blankly. It was just part of who he was - her mother might as well have asked why he wore hideous corduroy trousers. Instead her mother continued, an oddly wistful look on her face:
“I don’t suppose you really took on board what it meant to take my final university exams whilst eight months’ pregnant?”
Not really having an answer for this, Allison mutely shook her head. She’d often enough heard the stories about her parents’ graduation and all the issues with baby Amanda, because her father had insisted on bringing her along - old stories (Amanda screaming her head off during the main speech, Amanda throwing up on the Dean), polished and familiar and somehow unreal in the way stories often were. It shocked Allison to realise that her mother had then only been a few years older than she was now.
“Don’t get me wrong,” her mother continued, “I have never, not for one single moment, regretted having Amanda. Or any of you for that matter. But. I would undoubtedly have had more opportunities in my life without you lot. Certainly without having you so young. And your father knows this. Not that I ever blamed him, but you know what he’s like - he never stopped blaming himself. It is without question the reason he’s been pushing you girls the way he has. The way he sees it he’s making up for ruining the career I might have had.”
“Mum...” Allison said feebly, feeling that peculiar sensation of finally getting something she’d always hoped for and realising that it was very different from what she’d expected. She’d wanted her parents to treat her as a proper adult for ages, but this... She wasn’t sure this brutal honesty was what she’d wished for.
Her mother smiled, and gently cupped her face with both hands.
“You might change the world, Allie dearest. I remember you in your pushchair, when you were just a toddler, looking at the stars and asking how they got up there. And you’ve never stopped. You are brilliant, and don’t let anyone - no matter how clever or handsome - steer you away from the path you should go.”
She’d expected Alex’s mother to have a go at her, to worry if she’d hold him back. This came out of the left field, and all she could think to do was nod and say “Yes mum, I promise.”
Then she pulled herself together a bit, and added, “Well we might be like the Curies, you never know. Without the deadly radio activeness, obviously.”
At which point her mother shook her head and muttered about young love, and Allison could try to breathe again.
A few seconds later the mood was thoroughly broken by Jimmy slamming open the door, declaring:
“So, Alex says that his uncle once saved the world with a sword fight-”
To which her mother’s immediate response was, “What have I told you about bringing swords into the house!” and normality was restored.
Still; Allison kept feeling somewhat unsettled for the rest of the day, and was immensely grateful when Ella turned up shortly after dinner, family in tow.
Ella - the ultimate teenage tearaway, who had given their mother more grey hairs than the rest of them combined - had surprised most people by settling down for married bliss with a genuinely decent police officer in her early twenties, establishing herself as the ultimate domestic-goddess-stay-at-home-mum as if she’d never been out partying until the small hours of the morning, with a string of disreputable boyfriends...
Allison sometimes wondered if their father realised that her current role was as much of a rebellion as her previous one had been - she hoped not.
And then her thoughts immediately returned to her mother’s words... Thinking to herself that really mum oughtn’t to worry. Amanda had always been the Golden Child, forever spurred on by their father’s relentless encouragement, and Ella had been the opposite - both of them shaped by his vision in one way or another. Allison had - possibly instinctively - rejected this and always done what she’d wanted, turning a deaf ear to compliments and criticism alike.
She was thrown out of her musings by an insistent 3 year old, shouting that ‘Auntie Al’ needed to see how clever he was at doing somersaults, so she obediently did as she was told, as well as explaining that she was ‘Auntie Allie’ and that Uncle Jimmy was in a lot of trouble now for teaching poor innocents the wrong names.
After this had been sorted she had to admire the baby (9 months old, it was scary how time flew), and after taking turns cuddling him (before he began to smell and he was handed back), they all ended up around the kitchen table, the biscuit tin in the middle and cups of tea all round, as the dishwasher hummed in the background. It was the very definition of ‘family’ to Allison and she eagerly soaked up the atmosphere that she had sorely missed whilst away.
Later that night, when Ella & co had left and everyone was in bed, Allison decided to copy Alex’s actions at his home and silently tiptoed to his room. (She knew where all the squeaky floorboards were thanks to Ella - she had tried to explain that she wasn’t in the least interested in sneaking around, but Ella had just lifted an eyebrow and continued her instruction. Allison still remembered it now 5 years later.)
Alex wasn’t asleep, but put his laptop away when he saw her and made room for her in the bed. His opening line wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting however:
“So... who’s the boy you were kissing?”
She stared at him, utterly thrown.
“What boy? Where? What are you talking about?”
“The boy in the picture. On your big pin board.”
His eyes unfocused, as he slowly kept talking.
“Bottom right hand side, between the one of you in a prom dress and the one of Amanda’s children.”
“You were in my room for what... seconds? And you remember that?”
He studied her, a quiet exasperation on his face.
“I remember everything. I could tell you where everything - everything that I could see, that is - is in your room.”
As she didn’t answer, he tilted his head.
“I keep saying this, but no one ever seems to take it on board: I am really, really clever. I can do things normal people can’t. I’m like... Like Sherlock, but better. Now, please tell me - who was he? He looked very cute, you’ve obviously always had good taste.”
For a moment she tried to just shuffle her thoughts around, but it all came back to ‘Yes he’s really clever’ and ‘Goodness he doesn’t even understand the concept of jealousy...’ And he was still waiting for an answer... At which point she suddenly realised that she could try to - vaguely - put her mother’s message across.
Aiming for briefness she explained how that boy had been her first proper boyfriend (her first in almost every way, but there were limits to what she was going to share), and although she’d really really liked him, she’d realised that it wasn’t possible to keep a boyfriend and concentrate on her A-Levels, so she’d dumped him.
Alex listened with perfect composure, but was unable to stop a small smile forming as he replied to her unspoken statement.
“Message received and understood. And don’t worry Allie - I’ll never get in your way of achieving what you’re capable of. No...” he reached out, touched her cheek, the smile fading. “If you leave me it will be for quite, quite different reasons...”
Not having a clue what to say to that she decided to just kiss him, and that worked exceedingly well in getting him out of his weird mood.
The following day they went into Leicester to ‘see the sights’ (and maybe do some shopping - Allison had a long list of Christmas presents to buy still) and, because Alex insisted, went to see the castle and the Newarke Houses Museums and Galleries. Having trudged through these an infinite amount of times during her childhood, Allison wasn’t just bored out of her mind, she was also worried at how closely Alex’s enthusiasm mirrored her father’s, and had to forcibly remind herself that in most ways he was very different. Although he even did her father’s trick of talking to all the guides and getting all kinds of extra details out of them; as the morning wore on she gritted her teeth and glumly thought that he’d been right the night before - there were a whole heap of reasons she might decide to leave...
Shopping proved more enjoyable, although when she tried to hint that various items they came across might make good presents for her he just smiled mysteriously and said that her present was all sorted already.
“Can I have it early?” she asked, tugging at his duffel coat in a blunt-as-a-brick attempt to remind him that he was wearing his present, but he just smiled and shook his head.
That evening her mother started one of her impromptu music gatherings, which of course gave Alex another opportunity to show off, playing anything she put in front of him flawlessly.
When the session finally wrapped up, Allison noticed her mother and Alex quietly talking in a corner, and tried to make her way into hearing distance as subtly as possibly, half-alarmed that her mother was giving Alex ‘A Talk’.
What she heard however, when she got close enough, was her mother saying, “Are you sure?”, a surprised, but genuinely pleased, smile on her face, and Alex replying, “Absolutely - I was going to ask anyway.”
Her mother tilted her head and studied him, with a look that made Allison think that Alex had quite probably done what-ever-it-took to thoroughly win her mother over.
“You really are something else, Alexander Saxon,” her mother finally said, and in response he only smiled.
The next day promised better things. They were going to what might be Allison's favourite place in the world - certainly the place that had cemented her future in ways she couldn’t even begin to describe. And since Alex was loaded, she figured he wouldn’t mind paying.
The National Space Centre still looked like a giant, white, futuristic beehive, and she could feel her own excitement mounting as they drove up the road towards it. If she could, she’d live here...
As Alex had never been (something she found hard to believe), she eagerly dragged him through everything on offer - the Stellarium, the Rocket Tower, every exhibit and corner she could find, although oddly though, Alex seemed almost subdued throughout - not disinterested at all, but somehow withdrawn in his appreciation. Which was - if Allison was completely honest - a bit of relief.
Finally they ended up in the Planetarium, which, as always, reduced her to silent awe and wonder, as she lost herself to space and endless possibility.
When the lights finally came back on, her head still spinning with stars and beauty, he had gone completely still, looking almost lost. She took his hand.
“I know, it has that effect on me too...”
He turned to her abruptly, shaking his head and eyes flashing as he gripped her hand hard.
“No. You have no idea what I’m feeling.”
Letting go, as if scared he’d hurt her, he curled up, burying his head in his hands, as she started at him in shock.
“Alex... are you OK?”
“No, I’m really not,” he said, voice muffled, and then - lifting his head - gazed up at the now idle dome above them.
“I shouldn’t have agreed to come here, sorry. It’s too well done and... it’s just an illusion. Like a picture of a glass of water in the desert. I can’t get out there - I can’t get out there at all...”
Gently putting a hand on his shoulder, she couldn’t help smiling as she answered.
“But that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? Learning about it all so one day we will be able to go out there...”
He turned his head and looked at her - just looked - for the longest time, and then smiled a smile that was at once luminous and apologetic.
“You are wonderful, and I am sorry. I knew I was over privileged, but never realised I had quite such a talent for melodrama. I thought my disposition better tempered. I promise to do better from now on.”
“You are... so weird,” she said finally, and he laughed.
“Oh yes. I believe this has been stated many times over by now. C’mon - I’ll drive us back, so you can just relax.”
This last statement, as it turned out, was possibly some kind of elaborate joke - so convoluted that the point even missed Alex himself.
When they finally got home, her mother took one look at her face as she walked through the door and her eyes narrowed.
“Allie. What’s the matter?”
“My boyfriend,”Allison said, with feeling, “drives like a grandma.”
Alex, closing the door behind them, opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.
“No, scratch that, he makes grandmas look like risk-taking racing drivers.”
“Cars,” Alex said in his best know-it-all-voice, “are tiny little death traps on wheels. And drivers are erratic and often half asleep or just useless at steering. I’d rather be slow, but safe, than risk getting you killed because of a business man in an Audi who needs to be in Wolverhampton in half an hour and has only had a cup of coffee since 7 o’clock this morning.”
Allison looked at her mother with quiet exasperation.
“I’ve had this all the way home. Help me.”
Her mother, of course, just laughed.
After tea, Allison was wondering what to do (watching TV seemed a bit dull, and she wasn’t having another music evening), when suddenly the back door burst open and there was a chorus of “Aliiiiiiiiiiiiii!”
Running into the kitchen she was immediately drowned in hugs and kisses from her four best friends.
“What are you doing here?” Allison asked when the profuse greetings had subsided, “I thought you were-”
She waved a hand to indicate the four corners they’d all been scattered to, and they laughed conspiratorially.
“We were sneaky and planned to come see you, because it’s been forever, Little Miss Clever,” they started explaining, but a soft chuckle cut them off.
Turning, Allison saw Alex draped in the doorway, as casually suave as James Bond (if James Bond ever wore jeans & a T-shirt) and with a smile no less self-assured.
“You’ve come to see me,” he said, looking the group over, and Allison could almost feel her friends’ curiosity go through the roof.
“Oh my god, listen to him!" "Who does he think he is?”
They were rounding on him now, and most normal boys would be quaking in their boots. Alex, of course, was far from normal, and Allison knew that rather than being intimidated, he was enjoying himself far too much.
“I think..." he said slowly, "That I’m a genuine gentleman,” and taking the hand of the nearest girl, he kissed the back of it with utmost grace, “and I am utterly charmed to meet you.”
For just a second he shot Allison a look, winking, and she had to cover her laughter with a cough.
“Um guys - my boyfriend, Alexander Saxon.”
It turned out to be a truly marvellous evening. When questioned closer on the ‘gentleman’ claim, Alex happily expanded up on the fact that he was Lord Cole’s nephew and second in line to the title - after which he promptly offered to introduce them all to his cousin Geoffrey, but only if they promised to, if at all possible, marry the young man in question and have many, many children so Alex would never have to be bothered with large, ostentatious country houses and piles of money.
"He's not joking," Allison said, and then Alex offered to get them all drinks. He proceeded to spend the rest of the evening being attentive, witty and charming to such an extent that when her friends finally left - close to midnight - he had them practically eating out of his hand, and they declared him the catch of the Century as they walked out to the waiting taxi.
That night, as Allison was getting ready for bed, she couldn't help turning the last few days over in her head. Most people, as one got to know them, showed a certain consistency in their behaviour, but Alex... Alex really was different. The longer she knew him, the more sides he seemed to display - during the last few days she'd had the inveterate show off, the history enthusiast, the anguished star gazer, the pedantic driver and now the consummate charmer, to name but the most prominent of his facets... She remembered finding this chameleon talent a bit disturbing back when they'd first met - unsure if any of it was actually the 'real' him, or just some kind of performance. Now she was leaning more towards the idea that he was quite simply a collection of all these different aspects, and at some point she'd have a more or less complete picture - like collecting pieces of a jigsaw.
She mentioned this as she kissed him goodnight a little later, and he tilted his head, the light above illuminating his hair like a halo. For a second she felt like the world went topsy turvy - it was Alexander Saxon, someone who had until less than half a year ago been a figure only known faintly from newspapers, and he was standing there on her landing. Then he spoke, and the odd spell was broken.
"As always, you are exceedingly perceptive, Allie. Although I wonder what you will make of the whole picture once you have it..."
She shook her head. If obliqueness was a virtue, it was one he had in abundance. And yet - the moment in the Planetarium kept coming back to her. For the briefest moment something had happened to throw him out of his usual equilibrium, and she had seen something... raw and vulnerable that she didn’t know how to deal with. And neither did he, clearly. He’d sealed up so impeccably that she almost felt she had dreamt it, but not knowing how to broach the subject, she decided to ask Matt and Josh once they were all back at Cambridge.
The final thought in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, however, was a deeply reassuring one: Despite all the talk about History, his heart obviously belonged to the stars, just the same as hers.
The last day, and as they stood on the cold train platform waiting, her mother pulled a small pot with a twig in it out of her sturdy bag, and handed it over to Alex. Allison raised an eyebrow, but Alex's face broke out into a wide grin.
"Thank you, that's perfect."
Her mother looked slightly concerned.
"Cuttings are supposed to be done in late summer..." she began, but he took the pot and looked at the twig with great appreciation.
"Oh I'm very good at growing things," he said, and Allison tapped her mother’s shoulder.
"What is it?" she asked, and her mother smiled.
"A cutting from the plum tree - I asked him what he’d like as a Christmas present, and that is what he chose."
"I'll make my own plum jam in future," he said happily, and Allison shook her head.
"In, like, twenty years time," she replied, and he studied the tiny twig fondly.
"I'm very patient," he said, before pulling out a very small and very light present from a pocket, telling her to under no circumstances to open it before Christmas morning.
Then Toby’s train pulled up to the platform, and there were quick introductions and shaking of hands, until Alex looked up and pulled a face.
“The Cardiff train will be here soon. Better get across the tracks.”
Allison frowned.
“Cardiff? Aren’t you going home?”
“A boy’s holidays are his own property,” Alex said with dancing eyes, “And I am going on the road with Mahbub Ali.”
“You... what?”
He chuckled. “Sorry, literary reference - Kim, by Kipling. I’ve found it rather apropos recently. Essentially this is the compromise I reached with my Uncle, if you remember? I’m allowed a modicum of freedom in my holidays, so I’m off to Jack’s.”
“But it’s Christmas in two day’s time,” she said, and he shrugged, eyes still wide and happy. “I’ll stretch them if need be.”
“Good luck with that,” she answered, smiling to take the edge off the words, and he laughed again.
”Time is a funny thing.”
And then, after a swift, if dizzying kiss, he was gone, holdall over one shoulder and twiglet cradled in his left hand.
Allison discovered that Alex had been only too right when he talked about time stretching, as the two days in question turned out to be almost impossibly long. Partly because she missed Alex, who might as well have vanished off the face of the Earth for all she could get hold of him (‘Torchwood regrets to inform you that the person you are trying to get hold of is currently unavailable’ the polite recording repeated every time she called; 'Boys', she thought, and refused to worry), and partly because she was driven to distraction by trying to work out what was inside the tiny box he’d given her.
Having come up with approximately half a million different possibilities, the reality still managed to stun her as she finally stared into the inside of it on Christmas Morning, forgetting about the multicoloured tree, the tea cup on the table next to her, the decorations and the Christmas music playing on the radio as well as the rest of her family who were tearing into their own presents.
"So, what did he get you?" Jimmy asked nosily, and she slowly picked up the small pieces of paper that might just as well have been made of fairy dust, for all that she'd ever expected to hold one in her hand.
"Tickets to the Live Simpsons Musical," she said faintly.
The Simpsons Musical... The first proper hologram musical, a feat of engineering and invention and musical ingenuity, the tickets for which were more expensive than gold; and they were hers.
Looking in the box, she saw a note.
Merry Christmas Allie
Know you love the Simpsons, so this struck me as something you'd appreciate. I can get more tickets if you want your friends to come along, but I thought it'd be nice to go there for New Year's Eve, just the two of us, and make a proper night of it. We could start with a nice restaurant (The Ritz maybe?), go the see the show, and then make our way down to see the fireworks. Let me know what you'd like, and I'll make arrangements - your wish is my command.
Yours,
S
"Why 'S'?" Jimmy asked, puzzled, and Allison answered distractedly, voice distant.
"For Saxon. He always signs stuff that way."
She didn't care how he signed his name, didn't care that he was weird and strange with multiple personalities and sometimes moody. All she could think was: 'He is the perfect boyfriend.'
Chapter 10
no subject
I am actually taking a break from plotting Redjay 'verse to read Dating.Now, thoughts on fic.I was leaving, so I moved stuff. I was going to be free...”
Alex NEEDS to have talks with Roda about *growing up* and *land-locked-ness*. Very poignant line, though.
“Young man...” he began warmly, before having to remove his glasses, polish them, and then examine Alex anew
Love this.
“Just wait until I tell the fellas tomorrow at work. All of it. Beautiful.”
This whole exchange was one of the best. things. EVER.
Alex was borderline paranoid
Another brain cookie for Roda, though Alex's reasons are *entirely* justified of course.
as he meticulously and flawlessly demonstrated various moves to Jimmy.
Does he know archery? Roda could totally teach him archery! And they could have a fight and know how to do it *properly*.
Lamia the re-enactment geek.It is without question the reason he’s been pushing you girls the way he has.
This whole paragraph was absolutely fascinating. I love how you've fleshed out Allison's family so much.
Uncle Jimmy was in a lot of trouble
Just as I read this ebuddy went 'Jimmy has logged in' o_O
I’m like... Like Sherlock, but better.
Actually interesting and relevant that this scene was also one of those moments where Alex behaves a little less *human*.
“If you leave me it will be for quite, quite different reasons...”
SSZDCGNYBFZDSEVSDX don't tease.
And since Alex was loaded, she figured he wouldn’t mind paying.
Roda'd have gripes about this. Robbing from the rich and all. I can half imagine Alex telling her off when his wallet goes walkies
nah not really...“Cars,” Alex said in his best know-it-all-voice, “are tiny little death traps on wheels."
Roda agrees. And *G* I loved this little line.
she had seen something... raw and vulnerable that she didn’t know how to deal with.
..........awwww! (hugs Alex excessively tight)
Kim, by Kipling. I’ve found it rather apropos recently.
I think I need to get a kindle app to read this book NOW since I currently have no usb cable for poor Emrys.
"For Saxon. He always signs stuff that way."
I love this though I can't pin down why!
Alex didn't move a muscle, but Allison could still sense the tenseness.
Poor chap. Daddy issues? Or daddy/uncle issues...
All in all? *SQUEE* We can has more nao?
no subject
::holds out hand::
I am actually taking a break from plotting Redjay 'verse to read Dating
:) (And a break might be good, if it's been eating your head constantly...)
Love this.
Her dad is adorable. Flawed, but adorable.
This whole exchange was one of the best. things. EVER.
*dances* I can't tell you how long that's been in my head. 2-3 years at least. (And he does know all of it!)
Another brain cookie for Roda, though Alex's reasons are *entirely* justified of course.
Oooooh yes. (And yeah, Roda... That's something else.)
Does he know archery? Roda could totally teach him archery! And they could have a fight and know how to do it *properly*. Lamia the re-enactment geek.
He probably knows the fundamentals, but he wouldn't mind lessons from an expert.
This whole paragraph was absolutely fascinating. I love how you've fleshed out Allison's family so much.
They're the loveliest, nicest people ever, but there's still ~issues~ and it was fascinating to dig into them. I ♥ OCs
Just as I read this ebuddy went 'Jimmy has logged in' o_O
Heeeeee!
Actually interesting and relevant that this scene was also one of those moments where Alex behaves a little less *human*.
But he links it to something familiar, which is very clever of him. He does that a lot (and his friends comment on it in one of the earlier chapters) - he'll self-insert into stories, and often use that to take the edge off things that would otherwise be worrying. Saying 'I'm like Sherlock' makes it easy for Allison to slot it away as something she can accept.
SSZDCGNYBFZDSEVSDX don't tease.
*evil grin*
Roda'd have gripes about this. Robbing from the rich and all. I can half imagine Alex telling her off when his wallet goes walkies nah not really...
He plays the stockmarket, so she could take all she wants, he'd just get more.
Roda agrees. And *G* I loved this little line.
Also it's just hilarious to have him be The Most Conscientious Driver Ever. *g*
..........awwww! (hugs Alex excessively tight)
He's not coping very well by that point, poor thing.
I think I need to get a kindle app to read this book NOW since I currently have no usb cable for poor Emrys.
Enjoyyyyyyy!
I love this though I can't pin down why!
It also stands for 'Seeker'...
Poor chap. Daddy issues? Or daddy/uncle issues...
Oooooh yes. When you re-read the whole fic, you'll see them.
All in all? *SQUEE* We can has more nao?
No. But THANK YOU! *squishsquishsquish*
no subject
Redefining ‘inopportune timing’.
I can't tell you how long that's been in my head.
There are lines I’ve wanted to use for forever too.
(And yeah, Roda... That's something else.)
Lost you a little with your answer to this.
I ♥ OCs
Me too. I hate how they’re so frowned upon. Can’t wait to show you the people Roda knew back on Gallifrey.
He plays the stockmarket, so she could take all she wants, he'd just get more.
Ah, she wouldn’t really rob a friend. Maybe preach charity to him, mind you.
It also stands for 'Seeker'...
*g* Clever you!
When you re-read the whole fic, you'll see them.
When you finish the fic, I’ll read it all. At least twice. In one sitting.
No. But THANK YOU! *squishsquishsquish*
D: But *squishes back*
no subject
Allie's conversation with her mom was too funny, and too realistic. Hee! I like the detail with her sister Ella; that's a good observation, and it fills in the backstory beautifully ::admires::
But I can't help thinking that poor Allie is going to be ticked when she finds out the real story. Yikes!
And even speaking as a simpson's fan the idea of a live musical holographic simpson's show gives me a headache. Hee!
no subject
*gives you cookie*
I really enjoyed Allie's family, and (as I just re-read the previous chapter) make a nice contrast to Alex's.
They're lovely, aren't they? Vaguely modelled on my in-laws, because they just have this wonderful dynamic, and it's as far from the tensions that fill the Saxon household as possible.
Allie's conversation with her mom was too funny, and too realistic. Hee!
Isn't it just? There is no way of touching that subject without major awkwardness. (Although her mother is of course awesome and is just trying to look out for her daughter.)
I like the detail with her sister Ella; that's a good observation, and it fills in the backstory beautifully ::admires::
Oh Ella - I can't even remember why I made their father a feminist in the first place (it's that long ago), but the repercussions were fascinating once I began to flesh everything out. Of course it all comes from the best possible motives, but...
But I can't help thinking that poor Allie is going to be ticked when she finds out the real story. Yikes!
Ah yes. It's not going to be easy.
And even speaking as a simpson's fan the idea of a live musical holographic simpson's show gives me a headache. Hee!
LOL. I had the idea for a musical for a long time, and as they now beginning to use actual holograms in concerts I though 'Hey - that could totally work!' I'm sure it'd be amazing. :)
no subject
Heh.
There are lines I’ve wanted to use for forever too.
And they just SIT there, in your head...
Lost you a little with your answer to this.
I almost lost you, but then remembered Pythia's curse etc.
Me too. I hate how they’re so frowned upon. Can’t wait to show you the people Roda knew back on Gallifrey.
People tend to see OC = Mary Sue. Which is silly. Can't wait to meet Roda's friends.
Ah, she wouldn’t really rob a friend. Maybe preach charity to him, mind you.
He'd send her along to talk to Matt. They could team up, probably. ;) (Matt being the socially conscious of his friends.)
*g* Clever you!
*preens*
When you finish the fic, I’ll read it all. At least twice. In one sitting.
That... could take a while.
D: But *squishes back*
Well, I will TRY to keep the chapters shorter & more manageable, which should mean swifter posting. But I've not written a single word of Chapter 10 yet. (It's all in my head...) *hugs back*
no subject
Thanks for the update. I am looking forward to seeing where things go from here.
no subject
Oh! Oh, yes. In my 'verse she still wants to shake the Master and ask how Alex happened.
Actually with our chat about Jack's impossibility, Roda considers Alex more of one. And is probably quite jealous.Can't wait to meet Roda's friends.
*squishes Dr Gail* Who insists it's Galegochaelax.
They could team up, probably. ;)
Had this fleeting mental image of Roda going 'well if the Doctor can have a companion so can I'.
(It's all in my head...)
OoooOOOoooh. And so is what I've decided to call 'Last One Standing'.
no subject
\o/
I am too zonked to go through everything I liked (which is also all of it, so it would be kind of long as well.)
Awww thank you - and I know just how you feel. I was dead on my feet yesterday.
but I will say that I enjoyed the convo between Allie and her Mum a lot. I've been dealing with the whole 'I know I said I wanted to be treated like an adult but it turns out I fibbed' idea in some of my own writing. I really enjoyed your take on it.
It's a very interesting thing to deal with, and the age of the main characters is obviously perfect - very glad you liked that aspect.
Thanks for the update. I am looking forward to seeing where things go from here.
Thank you for reading & commenting. And oh, it goes all over the place! :D
no subject
Um, the Master came from my 'verse where there is no curse? ;)
Actually with our chat about Jack's impossibility, Roda considers Alex more of one. And is probably quite jealous.
Actually, if you want something that would work, then the fact that Lucy is human would maybe work? I don't think that Time Lords normally would consider having children with a 'lesser species'...
*squishes Dr Gail* Who insists it's Galegochaelax.
That sounds like a Scottish Time Lord from an Asterix comic! :D
Had this fleeting mental image of Roda going 'well if the Doctor can have a companion so can I'.
Oooooh, that might not be a bad idea. Although Matt might be far too sensible for her - he wants to be a doctor and help save the world etc.
OoooOOOoooh. And so is what I've decided to call 'Last One Standing'.
I have ALL THE STORY in my head. As well as ALL THE OTHER STORIES. Am surprised my head is not exploding, and have decided to write down notes so I won't forget anything. (I almost forgot the little plum tree cutting when I wrote this chapter! And considering that the plum tree is like a throughline in the fic (very much in the background, but it's there) I was scrambling to add it at the 11th hour. OK, so I could have added it later, BUT. I'm forgetting important stuff, poor my head.
no subject
I may need to ask for your help on working him out for my pocket 'verse, then, where the Curse DOES exist. ,s.Unless I write some kind of plot where the Time Lock locked the Curse inside too meaning Alex was possible and Roda thinks that the Master did something clever and won't share but really he's just hiding the truth....,/s>
That sounds like a Scottish Time Lord from an Asterix comic! :D
Gail: *sulks* Me: BUAHAHAHAHA.
Oooooh, that might not be a bad idea.
Well if you ever wanted to nick Roda for it, fit her in your 'verse, knock yourself out. And LOL. Roda at the present day (ie. Matrices) is getting... a lot more mellowed out. Just taken 1,300 years or so...
poor my head
*hugs your head*
no subject
I think his mother being human might be the best idea... Mind you I have no idea how the Curse works, but that could be one way of overcoming it, without breaking anything pre-established?
Gail: *sulks* Me: BUAHAHAHAHA.
She's sulking? I meant it as a huge compliment - Asterix is one of the coolest things in existence.
Well if you ever wanted to nick Roda for it, fit her in your 'verse, knock yourself out.
*looks at current length of fic in head* *laughs hysterically* Thanks for the offer, but no - Matt will just have to find his own way. (Well I might pack him off with the Doctor at some point, but that would all be off-screen.)
And LOL. Roda at the present day (ie. Matrices) is getting... a lot more mellowed out. Just taken 1,300 years or so...
Hey canon Doctor is just discovering his sexuality - obviously Time Lords just need a thousand years or so under their belt before they reach their prime. ;)
*hugs your head*
Sh! It's awesome really. Sooooo much story. \o/
no subject
He. :P
Well I might pack him off with the Doctor at some point, but that would all be off-screen.
Bless him. But Alex is the star.
ey canon Doctor is just discovering his sexuality - obviously Time Lords just need a thousand years or so under their belt before they reach their prime. ;)
BUAHAHAHAHAHA.
no subject
And his name is 'Gail'? No wonder he wants the long version! *g*
Bless him. But Alex is the star.
That he is. *polishes him*
BUAHAHAHAHAHA.
I love my show.
no subject
Nickname. He doesn't find it dignified. But... I actually knew a guy called Gail when I was younger? *blink*
no subject
no subject
Heh.
But... I actually knew a guy called Gail when I was younger? *blink*
Oh that doesn't surprise me. :)
no subject
no subject
Alex didn't move a muscle, but Allison could still sense the tenseness.
“Also I’m not evil,”
– It really is difficult not to love Alex at moments like this.
at least with him around Prime Minister’s Question Time was enjoyable to watch.
– Given what happened to the Cabinet, I shudder to think what Question Time was like, but fair point, it wouldn’t be dull...
Slowly a wide smile spread across Alex’s face.
“Allie? I think I love your mum.”
– Wondering how much more smoothly the world would run if everyone was always this careful to say the right thing (except when being doubly clueless, of course)
If he didn’t love it, she’d probably have to break up with him.
– Of course!
“I’m not your housekeeper dear,” her mother breezed in her best Mrs Hudson imitation, and Allison closed her eyes in frustration.
“That was never funny!”
– Actually, Allison dear, it totally was.
He nodded, before gingerly taking a step inside and stopping as there wasn’t really any more floor space on which to stand.
– My sister’s room was exactly the same.
He chuckled. “I should take a picture, just to show Ianto - he’d have a heart attack.”
– He so would...
he’d shot her an inscrutable look and replied: “Elsewhere.”
– ominous but subterranean drum roll...
but then he’d taken a deep breath before smiling wryly.
“And that’s enough self-pity for one day
– !!! And that would be another of the Standard Digressionary Tactics. Well-played, as ever.
His very, very tidy room, and the ‘elsewhere’ where he kept most of his stuff...
And pondering if she could maybe get him to talk about what he’d wanted to do before he’d been sent to Cambridge.
– To your earlier reply, Allison clearly is still teasing away at the problems in the background...
Alex’s eyes were dancing, and Allison tried not to sigh as she saw the showing-off gene raise its head again. She shot her mother a weary look (momentarily ignoring the fact that she was cross with her) and her mother stifled a smile.
– Oh, Allison. Meanness not one of her accomplishments either.
A grin which was pure Saxon; unbearably smug, if it hadn’t been that it was so charming at the same time.
– !!! Saxon in a nutshell
“But isn’t it, like, infinite...”
"Yes it is. And I know all of it.”
– !!! Also Saxon in a nutshell. :)
Alex was still smiling, but strangely enough Allison had the impression that her father’s reaction had thrown him as much as it had Jimmy.
– Not entirely following. What’s throwing Alex? He has presumably been told he inherited his father’s brains before...
no subject
“Yes mum,” she said, keeping her eyes lowered and praying that the ordeal was over now. Her mother had said her piece and surely that would be it, right?
– Every family, everywhere. (Not necessarily this specific topic, but everybody’s been there with something.)
“Have you never wondered why your father is such an ardent feminist?”
Allison looked at her blankly. It was just part of who he was - her mother might as well have asked why he wore hideous corduroy trousers. Instead her mother continued, an oddly wistful look on her face:
– !!! Allison remaining as lovable as ever.
“Mum...” Allison said feebly, feeling that peculiar sensation of finally getting something she’d always hoped for and realising that it was very different from what she’d expected. She’d wanted her parents to treat her as a proper adult for ages, but this... She wasn’t sure this brutal honesty was what she’d wished for.
Her mother smiled, and gently cupped her face with both hands.
“You might change the world, Allie dearest. I remember you in your pushchair, when you were just a toddler, looking at the stars and asking how they got up there. And you’ve never stopped. You are brilliant, and don’t let anyone - no matter how clever or handsome - steer you away from the path you should go.”
– Too perfect for words.
“So, Alex says that his uncle once saved the world with a sword fight-”
To which her mother’s immediate response was, “What have I told you about bringing swords into the house!” and normality was restored.
– Again, every family, everywhere.
Allison sometimes wondered if their father realised that her current role was as much of a rebellion as her previous one had been - she hoped not.
– I think one of the things I really like about this is you’ve got clever and insightful people thinking and noticing. Authors don’t always bother to show that.
and that Uncle Jimmy was in a lot of trouble now for teaching poor innocents the wrong names.
– !!!
It was the very definition of ‘family’ to Allison and she eagerly soaked up the atmosphere that she had sorely missed whilst away.
– Yes. Ask anyone who went to university halfway around the world. :)
“I keep saying this, but no one ever seems to take it on board: I am really, really clever. I can do things normal people can’t. I’m like... Like Sherlock, but better. Now, please tell me - who was he? He looked very cute, you’ve obviously always had good taste.”
For a moment she tried to just shuffle her thoughts around, but it all came back to ‘Yes he’s really clever’ and ‘Goodness he doesn’t even understand the concept of jealousy...’
– They’re just both so very much ... themselves. Very clearly and strongly drawn.
“Message received and understood. And don’t worry Allie - I’ll never get in your way of achieving what you’re capable of. No...” he reached out, touched her cheek, the smile fading. “If you leave me it will be for quite, quite different reasons...”
Not having a clue what to say to that she decided to just kiss him, and that worked exceedingly well in getting him out of his weird mood.
– Oh, Alex... Another nearly-pokes-through moment and maybe this time Allison is subconsciously (though clearly not consciously) not sure she wants to know?
as the morning wore on she gritted her teeth and glumly thought that he’d been right the night before - there were a whole heap of reasons she might decide to leave...
– !!!
no subject
in a blunt-as-a-brick attempt to remind him that he was wearing his present
– loved this.
he had gone completely still, looking almost lost. She took his hand.
“I know, it has that effect on me too...”
He turned to her abruptly, shaking his head and eyes flashing as he gripped her hand hard.
“No. You have no idea what I’m feeling.”
– pets Alex, very carefully.
“You are wonderful, and I am sorry. I knew I was over privileged, but never realised I had quite such a talent for melodrama. I thought my disposition better tempered. I promise to do better from now on.”
“You are... so weird,” she said finally, and he laughed.
– He recovers so well...
and most normal boys would be quaking in their boots. Alex, of course, was far from normal, and Allison knew that rather than being intimidated, he was enjoying himself far too much.
For just a second he shot Allison a look, winking, and she had to cover her laughter with a cough.
– !!!
after which he promptly offered to introduce them all to his cousin Geoffrey, but only if they promised to, if at all possible, marry the young man in question and have many, many children so Alex would never have to be bothered with large, ostentatious country houses and piles of money.
– !!!
Most people, as one got to know them, showed a certain consistency in their behaviour, but Alex... Alex really was different. The longer she knew him, the more sides he seemed to display - during the last few days she'd had the inveterate show off, the history enthusiast, the anguished star gazer, the pedantic driver and now the consummate charmer, to name but the most prominent of his facets... She remembered finding this chameleon talent a bit disturbing back when they'd first met - unsure if any of it was actually the 'real' him, or just some kind of performance. Now she was leaning more towards the idea that he was quite simply a collection of all these different aspects, and at some point she'd have a more or less complete picture - like collecting pieces of a jigsaw.
– Oh, this. This is a separate essay on its own. And people in real life are less consistent than people in books, and they’ve known each other for three months at this point? So... maybe even if he weren’t hiding several important secrets she would still be collecting pieces and trying to see how they all fit together? It’s hard to read this outside of the context of knowing that he’s lying though...
Despite all the talk about History, his heart obviously belonged to the stars, just the same as hers.
– Poor Allie...
"A cutting from the plum tree - I asked him what he’d like as a Christmas present, and that is what he chose."
– Of course he did.
Sorry, literary reference - Kim, by Kipling.
– Surely not. ;)
"Why 'S'?" Jimmy asked, puzzled, and Allison answered distractedly, voice distant.
"For Saxon. He always signs stuff that way."
She didn't care how he signed his name, didn't care that he was weird and strange with multiple personalities and sometimes moody.
– Oh, this is going to hurt so hard when it breaks...
no subject
♥
– Given what happened to the Cabinet, I shudder to think what Question Time was like, but fair point, it wouldn’t be dull...
I'm imagining him being cutting, witty and scathing, effortlessly running rings around everyone else.
– Wondering how much more smoothly the world would run if everyone was always this careful to say the right thing (except when being doubly clueless, of course)
*is wistful* (/Pollyanna)
– Actually, Allison dear, it totally was.
Yes, yes it was. :)
– My sister’s room was exactly the same.
As are my younger daughters'. (The older one has her own room and turned out tidy! \o/)
– He so would...
Oh the plus side - no dead aliens.
– ominous but subterranean drum roll...
:)
– !!! And that would be another of the Standard Digressionary Tactics. Well-played, as ever.
He is very very good at it.
– To your earlier reply, Allison clearly is still teasing away at the problems in the background...
Oh yes.
– Oh, Allison. Meanness not one of her accomplishments either.
No, she is lovely. If a little forthright.
– !!! Saxon in a nutshell
Ah yes. :D
– Not entirely following. What’s throwing Alex? He has presumably been told he inherited his father’s brains before...
Oh yes. It's the fact that Allison's father sees it as a trick. A clever trick, but a trick nonetheless. He does know all of it. Why would that be funny? Do they not believe him? (I meant to touch on that later, but forgot...) It's one of the times when his understanding of humans just sort of glitches.
no subject
Ooooh yes. (I deliberately set up Allison's family as both very unique and very recognisable - it should be the archetype of what Alex isn't used to.)
– !!! Allison remaining as lovable as ever.
♥
– Too perfect for words.
Allison's mother is my hero.
– I think one of the things I really like about this is you’ve got clever and insightful people thinking and noticing. Authors don’t always bother to show that.
... Could be a me-thing, or maybe something I've picked up from Dorothy Sayers. But character-stuff is what I do, so it's certainly innate on some level. Plus, otherwise how would people know?
– Yes. Ask anyone who went to university halfway around the world. :)
And now I want to ask you more about your studies.
– They’re just both so very much ... themselves. Very clearly and strongly drawn.
♥ (Not hard, really. They are rather insistent. Seriously, most of my stuff literally writes itself. I have whole scenes, complete with dialogue, just develop in my head. All I have to do is transcribe it. Almost feels as if it isn't mine?
– Oh, Alex... Another nearly-pokes-through moment and maybe this time Allison is subconsciously (though clearly not consciously) not sure she wants to know?
*nods a lot* There is this push-pull thing going on, and she knows he is keeping secrets... But half of her, instinctually, pulls away.
no subject
:) (Allison is - vaguely - based upon my younger sister-in-law. As in, when I began trying to work out what Allison was like, based on that line about how she wanted him to be warm etc, which is quite like my s-i-l: Very caring, but quite bossy. (I have seen her tell off her friends for their own good.) It's interesting to remember this, as Allison is, overall, very different.)
– pets Alex, very carefully.
Poor thing. It was below the belt.
– He recovers so well...
For just a second the mask slipped, but he is very very good at wearing his masks, so he fitted it back on immediately. Mind you, subconsciously Allison might have become more cautious because of this. She can sense all the issues, and is not sure she wants to mess with them.
– Oh, this. This is a separate essay on its own. And people in real life are less consistent than people in books, and they’ve known each other for three months at this point? So... maybe even if he weren’t hiding several important secrets she would still be collecting pieces and trying to see how they all fit together? It’s hard to read this outside of the context of knowing that he’s lying though...
The interesting thing, I think, is that he does tell her pretty much everything, and she - by the end - has a pretty complete picture. She just doesn't have the key to seeing it properly, or the right lens to view it through. (Hmmm, an essay. Don't tempt me. Mind you, all my fic is thinly disguised meta.)
– Poor Allie...
But this is also one of the reasons he loves her...
– Of course he did.
That tree is like the central thing weaving its way through everything. Also, that initial grumbling in chapter 1 about how there just KEEPS being more plums, is taken more or less word-for-word from one day mu in-laws neighbours happened to come round for a cuppa and were grumbling about their plum tree...
– Surely not. ;)
If she's bothered to read Kim, she might have been slightly more worried about his holiday adventures.
– Oh, this is going to hurt so hard when it breaks...
And yet, she's already got him down pretty well. 'weird and strange with multiple personalities and sometimes moody' <- insightful
no subject
– in a madly different context it’s like that moment in Busman’s Honeymoon: “If I kiss you now I shall lose my head and something irreparable will happen to this accursed hat. Let us be very strange and well bred – as if we were not married at all.”
And it feels in Sayers, and definitely later when Robertson Davies picks it up, as if it’s talking about treating people you know well with the same politeness that you use for strangers, about not letting familiarity breed contempt. (In Congreve’s original The Way of the World it is used as something completely different, but we can ignore that.)
And the thing that’s hurting my head slightly is that Alex is probably applying that more consistently to everybody he meets than anyone else in the story – except with his friends when he won’t budge on the secrecy, or with the insulting stand-up comic – only he’s doing it not because he’s innately a good person but because he sees it as a useful part of his charm offensive and a way of keeping his secrets. I can’t tell whether this is disheartening or not.
It's the fact that Allison's father sees it as a trick
– Oh, of course. “Is something funny? Did I miss a funny thing?” – speaking of loving Ten, not that I could imagine Alex doing it that abrasively...
no subject
– Yes, but a lot of authors don’t or don’t bother. Back in the 90s a friend and I were teasing each other about how in our fiction there were lots of people sitting around thinking, however unrealistic it might be, so it obviously seemed an almost lost cause even then...
Seriously, most of my stuff literally writes itself. I have whole scenes, complete with dialogue, just develop in my head. All I have to do is transcribe it.
– That’s how you tell. :) Happens to me very rarely, though I’m hoping that can be fixed with more practice. One of my favourite stories of all time developed ostensibly because of a very late train. I mean, it clearly wasn’t, it was stuff I’d been thinking about and mulling over for months, but it all came suddenly out of an evening when I finally got to my grandparents’ place, some hours after I had been scheduled to arrive.
no subject
– !!!
he does tell her pretty much everything, and she - by the end - has a pretty complete picture.
– Yes, except for the fact of being an alien who can also enter her mind without her knowledge. (Sudden flash to what if Donna had known that from the start? It’s a bit crazy because if anything you might expect the Doctor to be much less likely than Alex to do the thing that Allison quite rightly fears, and in the end it’s the Doctor who actually does it.) Every time we get to that bit I want her to have read Gaudy Night and remember the bit where Harriet “resented the way in which he walked in and out of her mind as if it was his own flat”, but that how in the end that didn’t vitiate the whole relationship. Though I suppose the difference is that Peter can only see things through perceptiveness and intelligence and consideration, whereas Alex could see and change things, without Allison’s knowledge.
no subject
See, this is why I think I've adjusted to well to life in England - this is what I was brought up reading.
And the thing that’s hurting my head slightly is that Alex is probably applying that more consistently to everybody he meets than anyone else in the story – except with his friends when he won’t budge on the secrecy, or with the insulting stand-up comic – only he’s doing it not because he’s innately a good person but because he sees it as a useful part of his charm offensive and a way of keeping his secrets. I can’t tell whether this is disheartening or not.
Now see, this is one of the points where MBTI came in very handy... Because it's not a weird alien thing (well, he's also alien and wearing a mask and always trying to be polite because that's what his mother brought him up to be) - but something where that's just how he *functions*. I think I brought up the thread I found on a forum? (Link here if you're curious.) I'd say at least 50% are actual things that have happened in my stories, and best part of the rest are so very him. Examples:
- You think people are generally foolish for not recognizing the ripple effect of their actions.
- You seek information about people not by asking but by observing them then make assumptions about who they are.
- When you are sitting in movie theater, but rather than focusing on the movie, you're imagining all of your friends' and family's deaths, and trying to work out a plan for how each of them will impact you.
I think the way he treats people is part of that. As in, he can't really help it.
– Oh, of course. “Is something funny? Did I miss a funny thing?” – speaking of loving Ten, not that I could imagine Alex doing it that abrasively...
Funnily enough, I was thinking of Miss Evangelista ('No really, I was pleased. Is that funny?')
no subject
Me and my daughter to the rescue! ;) (Miss M is 16 and wants to be a writer. And well - she can write! I can link you to some of her very early stuff if you like?)
One of my favourite stories of all time developed ostensibly because of a very late train. I mean, it clearly wasn’t, it was stuff I’d been thinking about and mulling over for months, but it all came suddenly out of an evening when I finally got to my grandparents’ place, some hours after I had been scheduled to arrive.
Yup, magic!
no subject
I think that at this point she is beginning to understand a little more about his background/issues, and is feeling out of her depth. She is also very much in love and wants to be happy. So she won't go stir up issues that might impact on them negatively.
Sudden flash to what if Donna had known that from the start?
Ah, but Donna did! In the Ood episode he expands her mind so she can hear the Ood, and she finds it deeply disturbing (not what he can do, but what he can hear, the fact that he can't switch it off). So she is aware, although she doesn't understand what she's doing when she creates TenToo of course.
Every time we get to that bit I want her to have read Gaudy Night and remember the bit where Harriet “resented the way in which he walked in and out of her mind as if it was his own flat”, but that how in the end that didn’t vitiate the whole relationship.
Oh that's been in my head THE WHOLE TIME. Except (as you say) for Alex it's literal. Which is far more disturbing.
no subject
– J. R. R. Tolkien, in a letter of 8 February 1967, about a conversation with C. S. Lewis: “L. said to me one day: ‘Tollers, there is too little of what we really like in stories. I am afraid we shall have to try and write some ourselves.’” Or, basically, YES. Happy to be pointed at good writing of any description. :)
no subject
Oh that's brilliant. :D
And I don't have access to any of her current writing (she has it locked so only her friends can see), but these are the very first stories that got posted 'publically' (I made her a Teaspoon account). The best one is Amelia Pond, Rory Williams, and the Fishy Custard. She was 11 when she wrote it.
I also made her an LJ 2 years ago, and, although she never used it much (Tumblr/Facebook more her thing, being a teenager and all), she started posting an AU about her own little Time Lady, 'Ankaramordacitas and the Golden Daisychain': Chapter 1 and Chapter 2. Sadly she got caught up in other projects (so it will remain unfinished), but if you judge her writing talents on that, and then project how she's developed in the two years since, you should have an idea of how she's getting on.
ETA: I make it sound as if she's terribly secretive. She talks a lot about her writing, and I'm sure she'd let me look if I asked. I know of at least 3 different projects she's currently writing, and her friends constantly nag her for updates. She is discovering the joy of being an Evil Writer.
no subject
no subject
My daughter. Straight-A student, butter-wouldn't-melt, Head Girl this year. Writing about child sacrifice age 14. I'm very proud. (And as you say - very plausible.)
And I'll be sure to tell the whole world as soon as she is published, don't you worry. :D
no subject
And some people say the Oresteia is hard to relate to. And yet here large parts of it are, and as you say, at age 14 at that. Good reason to be proud.
no subject
no subject
– Okay, now this is resonating hard with that scene with the Ood and the later mind-wipe (yes, there are harsher words and they all apply). Why didn’t Donna freak after the mind-stuff with the Ood? Maybe because Ten had only added something to her mind and then taken away the thing he’d added, and it didn’t seem as invasive, and/or maybe Donna had spent more time with the Doctor being a hero and so she trusted that he would always do the right thing and therefore wouldn’t do the very very wrong thing that she now knew he was capable of. And she should have been able to trust him, as Harriet was able to trust Peter, and then … that. The inevitable resonance:
Or, as the Seeker says to Clara in the Epilogue of A Good Day, “And he shouts at me! How could he be so completely reckless?”. (And now that I’ve just re-read Dating, so much more of that epilogue resonated that I might need to go and comment it again (“And I like impossible things best of all.”), even though I strongly suspect I’ve already done it once. Ahem. Ordering. Carrying on.)
Anyway. I know, we all know, what Ten did to Donna was dead wrong, but having this reference to Allison instinctively backing away from Alex in the way that Donna didn’t from the Doctor, because Donna trusted the Doctor even though she knew what he could do... it makes it feel so much worse. Not sure I’m even making sense at this point.
no subject
Hmmmm. I'd say Donna was almost the opposite of Allison in that regard - as in, she knew right from the start what dangers there might be:
DOCTOR: But you've seen it out there. It's beautiful.
DONNA: And it's terrible. That place was flooding and burning and they were dying, and you were stood there like, I don't know, a stranger. And then you made it snow. I mean, you scare me to death.
Then, after he left, she decided the gains outweighed the dangers. That said, I don't think she ever envisaged what fate would befall her. Re. the Ood, then she was the one in charge. He offered to let her hear it, and she then chose to have that ability taken away again. The focus, there, was really on how the Doctor can't filter stuff like that out. (We also have CAL, later, with the thousands of people uploaded to her memory. Doctor: 'It must be like, well, being me!') Donna's fate is a cosmic accident, but one that reverberates back & influences her life. (It happens because it has happened yadda yadda.)
Or, as the Seeker says to Clara in the Epilogue of A Good Day, “And he shouts at me! How could he be so completely reckless?”
I... need to finish that thing I'm working on. You'll like it.
And now that I’ve just re-read Dating, so much more of that epilogue resonated that I might need to go and comment it again (“And I like impossible things best of all.”), even though I strongly suspect I’ve already done it once. Ahem. Ordering. Carrying on.)
THE MORE COMMENTS THE MERRIER YAY! (Like Moffat Who, Everything Is Connected.) Although if you're going to comment on A Good Day, wait until I've posted this ficlet. It's... relevant.
Anyway. I know, we all know, what Ten did to Donna was dead wrong, but having this reference to Allison instinctively backing away from Alex in the way that Donna didn’t from the Doctor, because Donna trusted the Doctor even though she knew what he could do... it makes it feel so much worse. Not sure I’m even making sense at this point.
No, I know what you mean. And I think maybe it's because Donna started out with the danger - but, through her travels, began to become immune to them? It is such a shock for Allison because she didn't know. Or look at Josh, who reacts badly (not so much to the Seeker, but to the whole situation, the Master especially) for very personal reasons, and then, slowly, comes round and ends up almost in Donna's position. Also look at Clara, in S8, how she has changed from travelling with the DOctor.
no subject
“Just, promise me one thing: Find someone.”
“I don’t need anyone.”
“Yes you do. Because sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.”
Long beat. Then, dismissively:
“Thanks then Donna, good luck. And just... be magnificent”
(The amount of Doctor Who I end up rewatching to be able to comment on these posts, by the way…, but it was very good to watch that again, because Tennant and Tate knock that scene out of the park. It’s such a shame that their Much Ado About Nothing didn’t blow the barn doors off, because on the strength of this scene it should have done.)
Back to the original plot. From that scene alone, add the Doctor and Donna to the file of Time Lords and the humans who could have been incredibly useful to them if only the Time Lords had been able to hear and accept what they were saying. Which somehow makes what happened to Donna even more unfair. She was right, she was right all along...
no subject
The amount of Doctor Who I WISH I could find time to rewatch... *sigh*
but it was very good to watch that again, because Tennant and Tate knock that scene out of the park. It’s such a shame that their Much Ado About Nothing didn’t blow the barn doors off, because on the strength of this scene it should have done.
Slight tangent, but I presume you watched their Never Mind the Buzzcocks appearance? (Another half hour of your life lost. But you won't want it back. As a matter of fact, you will probably re-watch it often. Also features Bernard Cribbins. ♥)
From that scene alone, add the Doctor and Donna to the file of Time Lords and the humans who could have been incredibly useful to them if only the Time Lords had been able to hear and accept what they were saying. Which somehow makes what happened to Donna even more unfair. She was right, she was right all along...
I'd say Donna was right for Ten. The Doctor does generally need 'stopping', but he does need that human perspective. But then Ten's arc was very specific.