Hey y'all, Got a new This Time Round piece here. The problem is, it probably won't make much sense if you haven't read the 'Desert of Fear' Round-Robin. On the other hand, if you haven't read it but are going to, this piece has spoilers galore. THIS TIME ROUND: ONCE UPON A MIDNIGHT DREARY... by BKWillis It was actually quite nice having to fill in for Chang Lee's shift, Adric had decided. Granted, the paucity of customers in the wee AM hours meant a dearth of tip money, but on the other hand, the quiet emptiness had a soothing effect on his mind. On his heart, too. This night was looking to shape up just like the two before it, with the last of the patrons straggling out by eleven and the rest of the staff following shortly behind. The boy swabbed out the last of the used glassware and gave a little thought as to how he might pass the next several hours. There was Chang's video game collection, of course, but Adric had quite frankly had his fill of recreational bloodletting of late. Roz had left some Raymond Chandler novels stashed under the bar, though, or maybe he'd just put some quiet music on the Jukebox and think deep thoughts. There was a rattling at the doorknob and Adric set his plans aside with a little sigh. "Come on in and have a seat!" he called as the door opened. "What'll you ha-- oh." Adric's voice trailed off as a huge dark shape filled the doorway. It was a man, he saw, a very large man of about forty with long, gray-streaked hair the color of old straw and a black patch over one eye. A tattered and badly-stained black trenchcoat clung to him like a private shadow as he limped to the bar. Behind him came two others, one a trim, pantherish woman in a dirty gray bodysuit, her hair very yellow and cut raggedly short, the other a smaller, pale, frail-looking girl in a black velvet gown, her lustrous brown curls putting Adric in mind of a certain other deceptively delicate- seeming brunette of his acquaintance. He quickly stifled that line of thought and went back into service-industry professional mode. "Have a seat," he repeated. "Welcome to This Time Round." With seeming casualness, he eased Polly's clipboard out onto the bartop. "If I may, could I get your name and series of origin, sir?" "Cain," the man grunted, taking a seat at the bar. "Fanfic character. 'Desert of Fear' Round-Robin." "Gotcha," said Adric as he found the name on Polly's Approved Guest List. "So the two ladies would be... Bella and... Mary Rokossovsky, then?" "It's 'Babydoll', all right?" the blonde called as she and her pale companion sat down at a corner table. "Hmmm... 'Bella Rokossovsky'...," the other girl mused. "It has a ring to it." "What was that?" asked Babydoll suspiciously. Bella's smile showed teeth that were far too white and straight and two of which were far too long and pointed. "Nothing you need to worry about, Piggy. Not yet, anyway." The suspicion completely failed to leave Babydoll's expression. "That worries me even more. And why are you still calling me that? My pigtails are _gone_ now, see?" Bella shrugged delicately. "I just think the name 'Piggy' is a very suitable one for you. It has the same utter and rather silly inappropriateness as 'Babydoll', with the added bonus that my use of it causes the most fetching look of bewilderment to cross your face." She giggled as Babydoll flushed and hastily turned to face the bar. "So, uh, what'll you have, sir?" Adric asked. The big stranger fished a heavy, unevenly-milled gold coin from the folds of his coat and thumped it down on the bar. "Whiskey. The cheapest you've got," he replied, then nodded in the direction of his two companions. "Put theirs on my bill, too." "Whatever you say, sir." Adric plucked the coin off the bar, noting in passing the three-eyed face stamped on it as he dropped it into the till, then grabbed a shot glass out of the rack. "To Hell with that, boy," Cain grunted. "Just gimme the bottle." "Yes, sir." Adric put the glass back and set an ugly brown bottle labelled 'Old Tire Iron' in front of his customer, who swept it up with every sign of relish. "If that's all, sir, I'll go and get your friends' orders." Cain already had the top off the bottle, a smell not unlike battery acid and sheepdip immediately making itself known. He gulped down a long draft as Adric made his way out from behind the bar. "Don't call me 'sir', boy," he muttered at the Alzarian's back. "I ain't anybody special." The two ladies were in a low-voiced argument when Adric got to their table. "...don't see why _my_ Inside change carries over to this place, when yours doesn't!" Babydoll pointed at her unevenly-cropped hair, looking puzzled and a little angry. "Because me being a blistered, bloody mess is a temporary condition which will soon pass, while the loss of your lovely little tresses is of a more long-lasting nature. And besides, there's the aesthetics of it..." "Can I take your orders, ladies?" Adric inserted as they paused for breath. "Beer for me," Babydoll answered instantly. "You got Budmilleken Light?" "We do. Draft or bottle?" "Draft." "And for you, miss?" He turned to the pale girl. "Hmmm... What have you got in light burgundy hemoglobins? Anything aside from what's in your veins right now?" Adric found himself really, _really_ not liking the look she was giving his neck. "I'm sure we have something to suit," he blurted, backing away a little. "I'll be right back with your orders..." Adric disappeared into the wine cellar with an admirable rapidity that was wholly unrelated to any desire to render efficient service. "You're disgusting," Babydoll declared with a mild snarl at her companion. A genuinely hurt look crossed Bella's face. "I can't help it!" she protested. "I _need_ blood, whether I like it or not!" "You don't have to treat it like a joke, though." Bella's green eyes rolled ceilingwards. "So, I should agonize all the time, instead? Put on the whole sob-sister, woe-is-me act? Or be all snobby and sinister and oversexed all the time? Please. I don't live in an Anne Rice novel, you know." "All I'm saying is--" "All you're saying is that you have a problem with me, and it's either with my... condition... or my personality. Well, I can't change the former and as for the latter..." She shot an unnervingly coy glance at her tablemate. "Would you like me better if I was serious and gloomy all the time?" Her long lashes fluttered. "I could even do a crap Transylvanian accent for you." Her small white hand reached out to stroke down Babydoll's cheek as she said in a ludicrously thick accent, "My lovely vun, I vill show you ze tragic glories of ze endless night..." Babydoll swatted the hand away, the angry look on her face only making the vampire laugh again. "Yeah, whatever," she growled by way of closing the dispute without answering anything. "What's got you so damn cheerful, anyway?" "Things are looking up for me," the vampire replied with a shrug. "What things?" Bella just smiled enigmatically, shaking a finger at her. "Nothing you need to trouble your pretty head about. Oh, look! They have a jukebox!" And so saying, she ambled over to said device, leaving her companion to sputter in 'fetching bewilderment' at her back. Adric returned a few moments later with Babydoll's Budmilleken Light and a bottle of something too red and too sluggishly thick to be wine for Bella. "I, uh, was able to find some vintage Chateau Fevre 1859 in the cellar, miss," he called over to Bella, grateful to be out of reaching (or biting) distance. "What the cruk's that?" Babydoll demanded. "Some kind of blood champagne?" "It's a mix of sheep's blood, laudanum, absinthe, and added vitamins and minerals," he said, having read it off the dusty, hand- printed label. "Smeg," sneered the blonde. "Crukking vampire Gatorade." "That sounds perfectly charming," Bella replied over her, still toying with the Jukebox. "Thank you, dear boy. And you can calm down. I'm not going to bite you." Adric shuffled nervously. "Aheh. Well, I didn't _really_ think you--" "Yes, you do. I can smell the fear on you." Now she did turn to look at him, her pert nose wrinkled in disdain. "Frankly, you don't look very appetizing to me." Adric just put a hand over his eyes and groaned, "Great. I don't know whether to feel insulted or relieved." "Insulted." "Oh, of _course_." "Bella!" Babydoll interrupted. "Quit picking on the poor kid." The vampire stuck out her lip in a mock pout as Adric took the opportunity to suttle back behind the bar. "Oh, but I was only teasing him," she simpered. "Would you rather I teased _you_ instead?" "I'd rather you just sit down and drink your damn sheep blood cocktail..." Adric resumed his place at the bar, opposite the grim one-eyed man and his bottle of paint stripper. "Interesting friends you've got," the boy muttered. Cain smirked around the bottle as he took another long pull. "Yeah," he replied when he finally set the whiskey aside again, "I've always attracted 'interesting' people. Goes with the lifestyle, I guess." "So, what is it you do?" Adric asked. "Kill people, mostly," the big man answered with a nonchalant shrug. "Used to do it a lot more, using the indirect method. You know, screw up their timeline so that they unhappen. Now, I favor the more hands-on approach. It's messier, I suppose, but when you're takin' someone's life, you shouldn't be able to do it with clean hands. Ain't right. You kill a man, you ought to _feel_ him die, so you know what you've done. So it can come back and hit you at two AM when you're tryin' to sleep and you remember his face." He upended the bottle again, pouring the last of the cheap booze straight down his throat. Before the empty bottle even reached the bar, another of those crude gold coins had been fished out and laid down. "Gimme another," he husked, voice completely unslurred. "Oh, don't be such a party-pooper," Bella was saying to her friend. "You're far too young to be such a stick-in-the-mud." She suddenly clapped her hands, eyes alight. "I know! Why don't you get out here and dance?" "Dance," repeated Babydoll in a flat tone. "Right. I don't dance, Fangs. It's not my bag." "Oh. You mean you _can't_." "I said I _don't_." "But you mean you _can't_." "I said I _don't_," Babydoll repeated with some asperity. "Doesn't mean I can't. I just don't want to." "Because you can't." "Dammit, Bella! What did I just say?!" The vampire waved that off as unimportant. "It doesn't matter what you _said_, it's what you _meant_ that interests me. Especially in your case, since what you say and what you really mean are so often at odds." "You're trying to provoke me, aren't you?" Babydoll hissed, eyes narrowed. Bella's answering smile was broad and entirely sincere. "Of course I am. You're far more interesting when provoked. One way or the other." Babydoll just sighed and grimaced into her beer mug. "You're going to do this to me all night, aren't you? Push my buttons and make cryptic little statements that you won't explain. Am I right?" "No, you're wrong. I will certainly stop driving you to distraction in this way, if..." "If...?" Babydoll prodded. "...if you'll get out here and dance!" "Fine!" shouted Babydoll, slamming down her mug hard enough to nearly knock over the bottle of Chateau Fevre. "One song, then you knock it off." "Four songs." "Two songs." Bella considered for a moment. "You have a deal." "Fine," the blonde repeated, stomping out to join Bella on the dance floor. "I'll show you who can't dance." "I'm certain you will, Piggy." As Bella fed some coins into the Jukebox, Babydoll turned to Adric, who was watching at the bar with some amusement, and snarled, "You didn't see this, barkeep." The glare she sent along with those words would have given an Ice Warrior hypothermia. Adric, meanwhile, wouldn't have taken anything for the floor show he found himself treated to as the strains of 'Fire Woman' started blasting from the Jukebox. Two lithe, seductive young women in peak condition, graceful, toned, and with perfect coordination, moving their bodies to the pulsing beat... ...one of whom danced as if she had live bait in her underwear. "Do you have fevers to go with those fits?" Bella asked sweetly as she grooved through the motions of the 27th Century's most popular dance, the Stalk. Babydoll, meanwhile, was doing something that looked a bit like the Twist and a bit like the Monkey and quite a bit more like Cerebral Palsy. "Shut up," she suggested. "I'm just... out of practice, is all." "So, you're not the woman you used to be... if you ever were." "I thought you were going to stop the smart-assery if I got out here with you. Wasn't that the deal?" "I'm sorry," Bella replied, her playful tone gone completely. "A promise is a promise. I'll be good." Bella turned out to be as good as her word, merely flashing a few ill-concealed grins at Babydoll's attempt at rhythm until the last notes of 'Fire Woman' wound down. "I was getting better there toward the end," Babydoll declared, challenging Bella to disagree. The vampire declined to dispute the point. She merely nodded and said impishly, "I'm sure you'll do better on the next, Piggy." "You bet your ass." A moment later, the slow, dreamlike tones of Don Felder's 'All of You' began drifting from the digital speakers. Bella took Babydoll's hand lightly as the slow melody rolled over them. "Hey! This is a slow song!" Babydoll protested, pulling away. "Very perceptive. But you promised me two dances. No other terms were specified." "Yeah, but..." She looked down into Bella's face, at those big green eyes looking up at her with just a faint hint of pleading. The grip on her hand was soft but strong, from a hand that, she knew, could tear out throats and rend bodies. But there was a slight slackness to the hold, as if to say, 'If you pull away hard enough, I'll let you go.' Visions swam in Babydoll's head: Bella's face contorted in bloodlust, gore spangling her china-doll cheeks; a monstrous black bat writhing from the folds of a velvet gown; Bella's deep green eyes shot through with red as fangs flashed and carmine tears slid down moon-white flesh. But other thoughts came, too: Bella, naked and unarmed, stepping between a Servii War Captain and a helpless prisoner; too-white skin blistering and splitting under the merciless sun, the price of remaining with friends; a bleeding, helpless girl lying on moldy straw, asking for a story to help drive the pain and monsters away. And now, that face, that strong, proud, beautiful face, lovely as a dream-angel's, looking up at her, a simple request in her eyes: 'Please stay with me.' 'You must be a lost angel, dressed in silk and lace...' the Jukebox sang. "You tricked me," Babydoll said softly. "I did." Bella cast her eyes downward for a moment. "Are you mad?" "Maybe later," Babydoll grunted as she slid an arm around the smaller girl's waist. "I _did_ promise. But... I'm leading, all right?" "All right." Bella's fingers twined around her friend's as they began to sway to the gentle beat. Babydoll, her nose filled with the scent of Bella's damp curls, smiled slightly when she was sure Bella wasn't looking. Then, she abruptly scowled and glared Adric's way again. "And you didn't see _this_, either, barkeep!" At the bar, Cain's lips quirked in a tiny smile. He might have given Adric a wink, or he could have just been blinking, it being hard to tell which with a one-eyed man. Adric just shrugged and pulled out one of the Raymond Chandler novels from under the bar. Since it didn't look as if his services or conversation were going to be much required, there shouldn't be any harm in passing the time with a book, he reasoned. Naturally, the door opened again. "Welcome to This Time Round," Adric called over the music, just a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Come on in and have a seat." "Thank you, I will," purred the newcomer. At the sound of that voice, Cain's entire body went momentarily rigid. His knuckles whitened on the whiskey bottle, then relaxed as he raised it and drained his largest shot yet. "Could I have your name and series of origin, ma'am?" Adric asked politely. "Kali. Fanfiction character from the Round-Robin 'Desert of Fear'." The woman sidled up to the bar as she spoke. She was a tall, elegant beauty, with regal, finely-sculpted features and long, lustrous hair the color of molten copper. Her evening gown was of a glacial white that seemed to shimmer when she moved and exposed quite an amount of sleek, perfect flesh. She took the stool right beside Cain, propping her elbow on the bar. "I'd like a martini, please. Dry." Cain continued to nurse his whiskey bottle, completely ignoring her. As Adric slipped off to mix her drink, she turned and smiled pleasantly at the man beside her. "So, Cain, fancy meeting you here..." Silence. On the dance floor, Babydoll looked up to see who had come in. Her eyes widened slightly and one hand left Bella's back to claw at the empty place on her hip where her holster would ordinarily have been. Bella's light grip on her tightened slightly. "Let it be," the vampire girl whispered. "But it's that redheaded psycho-bitch!" Babydoll protested, trying to slip free. "The one from Avis City! I ought to--" "You ought to leave it be. She isn't your concern." Babydoll struggled for a second against Bella's grasp, to no avail. It was easy to forget, with her seeming so pale and fragile, just how monstrously strong Bella could be. "Let it be," Bella repeated gently. "She's _his_ concern." "But--" "She's not yours to fight, soldier. Let it be." Seeing the futility of argument, Babydoll subsided, grumbling a bit and glowering hatefully at the redhead's back. Their dance went on. "So, how has life been treating you these days, old friend?" Kali asked. "You look as if you're a bit down on your luck." Cain shrugged, sighing. "Could be better. Rotten, hollow copies of people better off dead keep pestering me. How's your undeath been going, thing?" "I don't know what you mean by such bizarre insults, Cain," she sniffed, but a split-second look of panic flickered in her eyes. "Aren't you pleased to see me at all?" "I'd be pleased to see your body on a slab," he muttered, then added, "Again." "You're delusional." "So are you, babe. You think you're real." Her smile at Adric as he brought her drink served to mask most of her unease at those words. "Anyway," she went on a sip later, "we're Outside now. Inside events need not carry over into this place. There's no need to bring our grudges here, just because we're on opposite sides of a story..." Now he did turn to her, a look of honest curiosity on his face. "You really think I hate you because we're backing different sides in the Servii Crusade? Just how much of Kali's brains did Shanka leave on the floor when she put you together?" "I don't know what you mean," she answered stiffly. Then she softened a little, easing closer to him. "Besides, we're Outside now. I might be a Kali from any point in the 'Desert of Fear' timeline or backstory. I might be the Kali that's opposing your Servii, or I might be the Kali you loved so long ago..." "The Kali I loved," Cain spat, "was even less real than you are. She was just a mask worn by a spiteful, conniving bitch. That was the real Kali underneath, a murderous, conniving egomaniac with a Goddess complex. _You_, on the other hand, are just a shadow of her, a thing, not even wicked enough to be interesting." "Why must you be so hateful?" she pouted, sliding against him. "Why must you keep living in the past?" He recoiled slightly, as though her touch sickened him, and turned back to his bottle. "I'm living in the present," he snarled. "You're the ghost out of the past. Go back to Hell, where you belong." "But, if you'd only give me a chance," she pleaded, "I could show you how things could be different between us..." Something in her tone made Adric look up from his book. She had her back to him and was facing Cain, one hand clutching tightly at his trenchcoat. The other was slipping a thin-bladed dagger out of a hidden sheath near the base of her spine. "...we could start something new here in Outside..." Adric was on the point of calling out a warning as she began to shift the dagger for a stab, when the whining blast of a staser pistol split the air. Kali staggered back, the dagger falling from nerveless fingers as she looked down at the smoldering hole in her chest. Her jaw worked, but only a croaking rattle came out as she sagged to her knees, then pitched forward onto her face, dead, the scent of blood and burned silk and flesh tainting the air. Adric blinked at the body, then at the smoking staser pistol in Cain's left hand. Eye still staring fixedly ahead, the big Time Lord jammed the gun back in his pocket and dug out another gold coin. "How did--" Adric stammered. "The timing-- How did you know she had the knife?" That one eye turned to fix on him with a terrible slow calmness. "She had a knife?" Cain asked, voice flat as Death. He barked a short, mirthless laugh, the laugh of a damned soul, and shook his head. "Here," he said, sliding the coin across the bar. "Fetch me another bottle, kid." As Adric turned to obey, Cain finally gave a glance to the body at his feet. Quiet for a moment, his lip curled into a tight sneer, contempt for the dead woman or himself or the both of them. "Nevermore," he whispered. "Nevermore." --BKWillis Copyright Note: 'Doctor Who' is property of the BBC. 'This Time Round' created by Tyler Dion. 'Desert of Fear' written by Brad Filippone, Clive May, BKWillis, and Ken Young. Archivist's Notes: Regular Characters: Adric Other Recurring Characters: Cain, Babydoll, Bella, Kali (all from 'Desert of Fear') Categories: 'This Time Round'; Comedy/Drama/Romance Synopsis: The 'Desert of Fear' cast makes their first appearance at the 'Round.