Doctor Who-Black Conscious

[firebreathingfishies]

I know, shoot me where I stand I promised myself never to write a Doctor Who fic but alas, here it is ()

Just a stupid kind of messaround really... New companion and a kind of Sylar deal going on. Let me know what yer think

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'...I Love Your Hair'

Someone released a high-pitched shriek. Someone else not far from them let out a ground-shaking belch. Tony Christie belted from the jukebox while two intoxicated middle aged women danced around waving their handbags and their glasses of wine and laughed like drugged hyenas. A glass shattered on the floor and sixty percent of the pub celebrated with a brief cheer.

Sidney Chambers glanced up and sighed. An overweight man with unfocused eyes and a putrid smell hovering around him eyed her chest unsubtly. She took one hand from the beer pump and pulled her shirt up. He blinked and looked away. She carried the pint to the end of the bar and set it down, a small amount of the beer sliding down the edge of the glass.

‘Two fifty.’ She droned automatically.

An elderly man with half moon glasses perched on his nose reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of change. She watched as he counted two fifty in ten pence pieces, despite the fact that there was a five-pound note sticking out of his top pocket. She said nothing and waited, then took the shrapnel to the till. She paid it into the register and looked around for someone else to serve.

‘Sid, the Fosters needs changing.’

She glanced up to her boss; a hoarse voiced middle-aged woman with the dress sense of a brick, and nodded. She fought her way through the letchering customers to the cellar door and unlocked it (having to jimmy her keys as she had to every time). She pushed open the door, went inside, and slammed it shut behind her. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She had been working for the last six hours. Her boss had said she could leave at nine, but had apparently changed her mind. Now she wanted her to work until eleven, which was an hour away. She was exhausted and hungry, but she didn’t even have five minutes to grab a packet of crisps or anything.

She got on with the task of changing the barrel, almost snapping her index finger in the process, and then trudged back upstairs to be once again amongst the drunken rabble. She went back behind the bar and moved to the first person she saw.

‘Coke, please.’

She nodded to the man. He was tall, attractive and slim faced – a far cry from the surrounding drunken morons shouting rowdily around him. She thought he deserved a smile, just for asking for his drink so pleasantly. She grabbed a glass from under the bar and then the soft drinks tap.

‘Diet or normal?’ she asked automatically.

‘Just normal.’ He replied, still smiling pleasantly. ‘Unless you think I need the diet.’

She glanced up at him again and smiled, pushing the button on the tap. He really did look out of place. He was clean-shaven, with well styled brown hair and a dark pinstripe suit. Over the suit he wore a light brown trench coat. It wasn’t often that polite, well-dressed and good-looking men came in. She put the drink in front of him.

‘One twenty please.’

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out exactly one twenty on the first go. He put it in her hand. ‘Been working long?’ he asked.

Sidney took the money and moved to the register. He followed her with his wide brown eyes. ‘Few hours.’ She replied. ‘Finishing soon though, thank God.’

The man nodded. ‘You must have to have a lot of patience to work in a place like this.’ He went on, glancing around at the rabble surrounding him. ‘I couldn’t do it.’

Sidney smiled and looked to another customer, who ordered a pint of Carling. She moved to the tap, which happened to be right in front of the dark haired man and pulled the handle. ‘You get used to it.’ she replied.

‘You’d have to.’

She smiled to him again and took the pint to be paid for. The man was being polite enough and on a normal night she wouldn’t have minded talking to him at all, but she wasn’t in the mood to be involving herself in conversation. The bar was packed and she was working alone. Well, there was another person on the bar, but he was new so she might as well have been working alone. She wanted to stop him talking before she ended up being rude.

‘Got to say I love your hair.’

Sidney managed another smile at him and brushed her bright red hair behind her ears. She and her housemate, Manny, had bleached it a few days earlier, but then she decided she hadn’t suited blonde so after two bottles of cheap red wine they put on a bright red dye, which had almost cost Sidney her job.

‘Let me guess, spur of the moment?’

She nodded. ‘That bad?’

‘No. Not really.’ He smiled broadly at her.

Sidney smiled in return and moved further down the bar. It wasn’t unusual for the patrons to flirt with her (at least, that’s what she assumed he was doing), after all the majority of them were drunken animals and would probably try and pull a drainpipe if the opportunity arose. But the way he had said he loved her hair with such sincerity made her wonder if he was in fact playing for the other team. Which would be a shame.

An hour or so passed. Her legs felt numb. The bar was empty apart from an elderly couple, a lonely drunken man rambling incoherently to the new bar staff and the dark haired man in the pinstripe suit. Finally seeing her chance to eat, she snatched a packet of crisps and dropped fifty pence into the register. She perched on one of the stools at the end of the bar and impatiently opened the bag.

Halfway through the packet, while her boss was calling for everyone to ‘get out and go home, if you’ve still got one’, Sidney felt someone brush past her – actually giving her a chill - then the sound of something hitting the floor. At first she thought it was only a coin, but when she looked down to check she saw a silver key, just a small one – probably just a little bigger than a padlock key. She leaned over and picked it up, glancing up to the door just to see the man in the pinstripe suit leaving. She dashed after him.

‘Hey, you dropped your…’

She looked both ways up the street, but it was deserted. She frowned. Unless he had the walking speed of a roadrunner, he should have still been on the street. She guessed he must have gone up a back alley and turned to go back inside. She paused an listened. A strange sound filled the air – something she’d never heard before. It was distant, probably up one of the alleys, and it sounded mechanical but at the same time unreal. She listened a little longer but it faded away. She put it down to someone’s bad taste in rave music and went back inside.

[firebreathingfishies]

'...You're On My Coat'

‘Bread. Where’s the bread? Did you not buy any?’

Sidney glanced up from her overfilled bowl of Coco Pops and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I didn’t,’ she replied through a mouthful of cereal. ‘You went shopping last.’

Manny, her housemate turned and frowned. His blonde hair was ruffled and his eyes were bloodshot. While she had been working an unnecessarily long shift, he had been out partying. But now he had to go to work at the post office while she could do whatever the hell she wanted. She was off that night so she planned a night in with the TV and a nice bag of popcorn.

‘Yeah,’ Manny frowned. ‘But you went to the shop yesterday. Before you went to work. I asked you to get some bread.’

Sidney shrugged once again and shovelled another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

‘God I’m so sick of this!’ Manny cried, tossing the tub of butter back into the fridge angrily. ‘We never have any decent food. The kitchen is a mess!’ He pointed dramatically at a pile of unwashed dishes. ‘And the bloody landlord is still raving about that tenner we owe him.’

‘That tenner you owe him.’ Sidney corrected, pointing her spoon at him. ‘I gave all my rent. And anyway, you have about sixty quid. I saw it on the coffee table this morning. Just give him it and he’ll be off our backs.’

‘No,’ Manny huffed. ‘I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. He said he would pay me back the money to replace the bathroom doorknob. He didn’t so I’m taking action.’

Sidney rolled her eyes. ‘Well your ‘taking action’ will only get us kicked out.’

‘I don’t care.’ Manny snorted. ‘I’m sick of it here anyway.’

‘Oh stop it, man. You’re just hungover. Crabby, I think is a better term.’

Manny sighed dramatically. ‘Oh I’m going to work.’ He headed for the door. ‘And can you sort those dishes out if you’re not too busy doing nothing? Thanks.’

She watched his leave with one eyebrow raised, then jumped as he slammed the front door noisily behind him. She sighed, shook her head, and turned back to her cereal.

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After a shower Sidney felt more awake. She checked her reflection in the oversized mirror beside the front door, which Manny had insisted on getting, and reached in her pocket for her keys. Her fingers settled on something unfamiliar and she scooped it out with a frown. She turned the little key (which felt strangely warm despite it had only been in her pocket) over in her hand and sighed. She had meant to leave it behind the bar. That guy had probably gone back looking for it but she had it in her pocket. She dropped it back into the darkness of her black leather jacket and headed for the door, stopping in the porch doorway to put her foot on the frame. She did this ritual every morning. She pulled the laces of her Doc Martin boots to make sure they were tight, and then checked her other foot before finally leaving the house.

Her street was nothing special. The garden gate creaked as she pushed it open and broken glass crunched under her boots. She glanced down at it briefly. She had thought she had heard a commotion the night before but she hadn’t been sure. She wasn’t bothered, thought. It was nothing new. She continued up the street to the bus stop where she would jump on the bus into town. About fifty yards from the stop she glanced over her shoulder to see the bus trundling down the road. She ran to the stop. She would have missed it if the driver had actually been doing over twenty miles an hour. She hopped on, paid her far, and sat down on the nearest available seat.

‘S’cuse me,’ a polite voice came from beside her. ‘You’re on my coat.’

She glanced around to see a surprisingly familiar face. It was the dark haired man from the pub the night before. She blinked at him for a moment before lifting up. ‘Oh, sorry.’

‘No problem.’ He smiled back and pulled his coat back. He stood up, pressed the bell and went to get off.

Sidney watched him with a slight frown. He was already off the bus and heading away when she remembered about the key in her pocket. She went to stand, but the bus already began to move again. She shook the uneasy feeling and turned her head to the window.

[firebreathingfishies]

Ah-hah I knew I'd posted this somewhere

I've finished this now, but it might be a bit too long to post here... at 15 chapters I'm rewriting it though, so I think I will when I've finished. Again.