paradisalogs | 22 - Your mother warned you there'd be days like these.

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22 - Your mother warned you there'd be days like these.

Who: Spike Spiegel and the Fifth Doctor
What: It's check-up time for Spike - except there's also Bringing Up Baby. In the form of a Kaled mutant. What could possibly go wrong?
When: May 10th.
Where: The castle.
Rating: E for Exterminate.

It's funny how things work around here at times, the Doctor thought. One could find themselves seeing some people all over the place, all the time. Then there were those that you only ever seemed to see once every few weeks what with their own preference to stay under the castle's radar, to which the Doctor really couldn't fault.

He however wasn't one of the latter. Up early and with this and that to attend to, he did think it prudent to arrange to call in on Spike. Indeed it was probably a little overdue, but then, given the Doctor's sense of timing overall...

He started with a written message for Spike in the journal, letting him know that he would be looking for him for an impromptu check-up. Whether that was to let Spike know how lucky he was to receive not one but two house-calls, or to give Spike a warning to make himself scarce, remained to be seen.

After errands and a quick trip to the clinic the Doctor found himself at Spike's door, knuckles rapping on the panels and wondering where he might track him down if he wasn't here.

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Some people might think that things would get quiet during a recovery period in which Spike slowly regained the use of his hands. Maybe it should have been, and he'd be in a much happier mental state by now. There's always the chance that the castle was of the opinion that magically rebooting a dead friendship or finding fun new ways to imagine forced socializing would be good for him, and that's exactly how he ended up here. When he crashes, he crashes hard. All he needed was one more push.

This morning he awoke with a familiar feeling of dread, which he couldn't pinpoint until he found something by his door. There, was this disturbing note attached to an egg, both of which Spike stashed when he coincidentally got a call from the same guy the letter mentioned. If not for that, Spike may have taken off, but here they are and the Doctor is at his door. Before answering, he shuts the journal and gives Ein a weary gaze. This is how it starts.

"Hey." Spike answers as he opens the door, then backs up as an invitation to stay. Something he'll remember if he comes to regret this later.

He finds himself counting seconds as they tick by. With a thoughtful hum the Doctor wonders where he should start looking for the man or even if his message was seen. It is easy for him to practice discretion to a lesser degree if required.

Trying to reassure himself that if Spike was having severe problems or difficulty he would have called for him by now, he can't fully buy in to that. The castle meddles, a fact the Doctor is well aware of. Not to mention that this is Spike after all.

Raising his hand to knock once more however, the door is opened and the Doctor is all smiles.

"Hello! Good morning." Spike operating door handles, check. Definitely a good sign. Stepping aside to let him in, even better, and the Doctor enters his room.

"How are you? I sent you a message, did you see?"

Spike doesn't reply until he's seated again on his worn yellow couch. Once he's comfortable he points to the discarded (and eternally unhelpful) journal. Amazingly enough, he doesn't miss much when he's actively searching for information.

"You didn't have to make the trip. I could have said I was fine over the journal." If that's a hint that he's onto whatever else this suspiciously timed visit is about, it's open for interpretation. Ein nearly ruins it by perking up and running up to the Doctor's feet, to which Spike frowns and looks more directly at him. "Unless you left something behind the last time."

The Doctor follows Spike in and watches as he sits.

"Very true. But then you could be telling me what I want to hear and not the truth now." As for that, he's happy to see that Spike does appear to be doing well. His gaze down as the dog runs towards him, the Doctor grins. He likes dogs. Cats not so much.

"Hello. Where did you come from?" Talking to the dog? Absolutely. With a smile he lifts his gaze back to Spike. "No, and if I didn't know better I'd say you weren't happy to see me. I think I'm hurt. I am however very pleased to see you're looking better."

Coming to the couch, he points at the seat as if asking for an invitation to sit. "I have been working on something that you might be able to make use of if required."

"I was expecting you, anyway." He couldn't be laying that suspicion on thicker if he tried. Just watching to see if the Doctor shows any signs of recognition. But if he does have something to do with it, his interaction with Ein shows that he's good at covering. Which would make it another castle-thing. Normally he would have assumed that from the start, there's just something about someone with no real name.

When he makes a convincing case for assuming Spike would lie about a thing like general health and well being, he softens his tone slightly and shifts over on the couch. It's not like he has a lot of other furniture in his room. "What's that?"

Nodding his thanks the Doctor sits. All things nice and civilised considering, except Spike does get an odd look for his suspicion. Of course there is recognition in the Doctor's eyes which also comes with a quizzical frown. "Well, yes. I did send you the message that I'd be looking for you."

Evening out his expression. "A kind of..." He circles his hand in the air as if searching for the best word to use. "Brace, if you will. With similar qualities as what I left you with originally, just less cumbersome. That all depends on how you're healing and if you need it of course." Asking the next question, it comes with a double-meaning. "You are all right, yes? "

To be honest, he may have overdid it the other day when he was doing all that heavy lifting. Since then, he'd gone back a little further in his treatment, but all things considered he felt like he managed pretty well on his own. (As long as they weren't counting a few bad decisions and his history with the talking ponies. Yadda yadda.) Still, he wouldn't turn down a brace as long as he doesn't have to ask for it. "You're the doctor."

That's when Ein, who was perfectly content with watching the Doctor interact with Spike, suddenly turns back to another side of the room with perked ears. Spike ignores him.

"I was expecting you before that."

Of course Spike wouldn't just ask for it or for help. Wouldn't that just be beneath Spike? Along with pleases and thank you's. The Doctor has already thought as much, hence forcibly tracking him down.

"Yes. Yes I am." That comes with a hesitant smile for two reasons, Spike's avoidance of a question, again, and the general vibe from Spike. Movement at the corner of his eye brings his gaze around as the little dog scampers off, his attention caught by only dogs know what.

"Really? You were expecting me before the note?" The Doctor frowns again. "You're not psychic, are you?" That question is made flippantly and there's a follow-up quip to go with it naturally, except he hears something that interrupt his thoughts. A crack-crunch that's somewhat muffled but still loud enough to be heard.

"Is there someone else here?"

If only he knew that pleases and thank you's would have provided the best distraction. He never would have seen them coming.

Spike hears the noises too, and so does Ein. The dog's ears flatten and he starts a low growl aimed at a small refrigerator. At first, Spike continues to ignore him, but his gaze flicks back when the sound gets... more strange. Maybe he should have put a lock on that.

"There was another note." Put much more simply than it should be, considering it may have spelled out their eminent doom. That's what the Doctor gets for becoming involved with such a trouble magnet. "I figured you knew about it."

Live and learn Spike, you'll figure it out eventually.

If the wind changes the Doctor is going to be stuck with that frown because as Ein starts to growl - and as Spike at first tries to ignore it - the lines on the Doctor's forehead get deeper, especially at the continued noises, another cruunnch and then a thump.

The Doctor looks over the back of the couch to try and see what is going on with Ein - and the fridge. "What note?" No, he has no clue. Now who is suspicious? Standing up next, his voice has equal tones of curiosity and caution. "Spike? What do you have in your fridge?"

Around this time, Spike's attention shifts entirely to the fridge, so he forgets to mention that he left the note attached to the thing when he stuck it in there. It's been his experience that it's a decent place to hold aliens for a long period of time, but that's without the castle interfering.

"An egg." Spike gives a quick look to the Doctor, then rises from his couch. He holds his arms out, just in case something is going to come shooting out of there, and wishes for a chain. Just need to put a lock on there quick enough, nobody gets hurt. "Hold on a sec."

He looks at Spike disbelievingly and as he wishes up the chain, "An egg. That doesn't sound like one. Unless it's--"

Hatched something, of course. Spike seems to know a lot more than the Doctor does right now but he can put two and two together to figure out what that chain is for. Another thump and the fridge shakes, another to go with it and the door pops open... "Too late."

The door swings open wide. On the shelf, sitting there in the bottom half of the egg, a tentacled, grey-green blob with one unblinking eye. It's vaguely a face, and where the mouth should be is a little electronic grill, because reasons.

"ARRGGHH. HUUURRR"

Not only is Spike getting to see one very curious thing, but here's another: the Doctor has gone stock still and white.

Spike halts in his steps just before the door flies open, which is followed by some frantic barks from Ein, who backs up considerably. He looks on, mildly disgusted, then glances at the Doctor who seems to be having a more visceral reaction to the... mutated octopus? Do those come from eggs?

"What the hell is that?" He directs his question to the Doctor, who seems to know more than most about these things. Probably part of his medical training. "Do you recognize it?"

He doesn't dare take his eyes off the fridge at first and instead he slowly nods. When he does risk a glance at Spike and sees his disgusted look, the Doctor has one too.

The blob waves a tentacle at them.

"It's a Kaled. Stay back!" Just as the Doctor jumps forward and yanks open a kitchen drawer for a weapon. He's hoping for a knife.

Instead he's leveling a whisk at the fridge.

"ARE. YOU. MY MUMMY?! IDENTIFY!"

...the fuck, seriously. This is the most bizarre assassination attempt Spike has seen, which is the only thing he can imagine this is with the way the Doctor springs to action. Now he wishes he could remember exactly what that note said. He briefly scans the area around the... Kaled... for it, but it's all pretty hard to look at for long.

"Mummy-?" Bundle of joy... Oh. Funny. He drops the chain and pulls the gun out from under his jacket (surprise, Doctor, he still carries it on him), then aims it at its eye. "I think this might work better."

The Doctor stares into the fridge, whisk be-damned at the ready, because the one thing he could possibly actually hate is staring right back, its bulging roving eye looking between them, tentacles waggling in the air and asking for its Mummy.

"That's irregular. I think it means you."

As the chain drops he risks another glance at Spike and sees him draw his gun. The Doctor does not like them. In fact, he despises and refuses to use them. Except when he doesn't. "Do it. Before it moves!"

Too late, the Kaled leans forward and with a wet sounding plop, lands on the floor, bringing the bottom half of its egg with it and a piece of paper fluttering down.

"DESIGNATION: GREEN HIRSUTE PARENT. PICK ME UP! OBEY!"

Edited 2014-05-12 13:11 (UTC)

Like hell he's that thing's mom. He nearly shudders at the thought, but he's got to stay focused here.

"I'm trying." Spike responds as he pulls on the trigger a second time, but he can't seem to get it to budge. "The damn thing's jammed."

Because there's no way it could be his hand to blame. His fingers were working perfectly earlier, so why would they cramp up now? -- Then, as he starts to move it off its target, the gun suddenly goes off, loudly in such a small room. The bullet ricochets off of the top of the fridge and back to the ceiling behind them.

Biting back a reaction to nearly shooting himself, and the increasingly disturbing speech that thing is giving, Spike spots the paper and growls out. "Grab that, it's the note."

Trying? Try harder! He heard the misfire - rather, the no-fire - and moved toward Spike, worrying that he couldn't handle the gun just yet after all instead of it simply being 'jammed'.

When it unexpectedly fires and the bullet pings, the Doctor ducks and covers his head, his ears ringing as the shot reverberates around the room.

When he looks back up, sure enough there's that piece of paper and next to it the bottom of the egg, slowly rocking on the floor. No Kaled mutant.

"Oh no. Fantastic. Marvellous. Just brilliant. Are you all right? Did you see where it went? Don't you think I'd better have the gun before you hurt yourself?" Yes, it's a barrage of questions Spike, just as the Doctor reaches for the note and reads it while looking around nervously, whisk at the ready.

"Fantastic. Marvellous. Brilliant. You could have told me this when I arrived!"

"It was jammed." He repeats, pointedly. That kind of thing just doesn't happen to him, so it couldn't have. Nobody is a better shot than he is.

More pressing is the sudden disappearance of the egg monster. Spike stares at the empty space it occupied a moment ago, then around him. How fast can something like that move? It only had those tentacles to get around with. "...Yeah, I could have. I didn't know what it was."

Finding nothing, his gaze settles back on the Doctor. "You do though. Maybe it got the wrong door."

Oh Spike, it can move very fast. It can also climb and jump. The Doctor backs up to Spike, strategic move there, aiming to get back-to-back with him.

"The gun wasn't jammed when you took a chunk out of the ceiling." He's looking around the room frantically still. "Questions, Spike. They don't cost anything. You could ask, you know."

Glancing at the note again, "This is ridiculous. No, it's awful. If someone thinks we're looking after that... Wrong door my... foot! I think the stork needs a talking to."

On the other side of the room something gets bumped and tipped over and crawling up the wall is the Kaled. "There it is!"

Spike can see what he's doing, and under the circumstances, allows him to. Although it'd be a more effective strategy if he knew the Doctor could fight. The kitchen utensil didn't do the most to inspire confidence.

As Spike tries his best to be the one who keeps a cool head, he still has to clench his teeth to keep from snapping something back about how rambling isn't going to help them right now.

When he shouts, all that is forgotten -- Spike spins around to aim at the thing again, and again when he pulls the trigger nothing happens. Jammed. This is getting ridiculous.

The fact that he asks the next question at all should be enough to reveal his frustration. Tell him something useful here. "So what is it?"

It is a deadly whisk in his hand. It should be seen what the Doctor can do with string and a kettle. For that matter, it should be seen what a Dalek can do with a sink plunger, although best not.

The Doctor would never swear, although he has to admit there are times when he's been close and one of them is now when nothing happens when Spike pulls the trigger again.

"Kaled! It's the organic part of a Dalek. The most heinous, despicable creature ever created, it's sole purpose is to exterminate all other living beings!"

Speaking of which, it shouts "EXTERMINATE! WHEEEE!" and jumps off the wall to the back of the couch, where it scuttles along towards them.

"I think there's something wrong with this one."

It's nice that they're teaching it new words and all, but Spike doesn't really get it. Is there an epidemic of demon squids in the future? He wouldn't have seen that coming.

Not that he can think about that. The squid is on his couch. His couch, that he doesn't want it chewing on. It'll probably end up smelling either way and he just got the damn thing.

Gritting his teeth as the Kaled gets closer, Spike holds his gun out for the Doctor. If this is some new badly timed loss, it's better he find out now. His pride isn't worth leaving their fate to a whisk.

"Try it."

Spike could have cleaned up on the Paradisa betting pool if he'd put that entry in.

The Doctor does not like or use guns but he is also a hypocrite. A glance at Spike's hand, he drops the whisk and takes the gun. Clip ejected, chamber cleared, clip reloaded and next bullet chambered all smooth-handedly and the Doctor aims. Someone is more proficient than they could be given credit for.

The Kaled stops and waves its tentacles at them.

The Doctor hesitates... ... Nastiest thing ever created here, come on! He pulls the trigger. Clack. Nothing.

Turning around quick and facing the window he tries again. No problem there, fire in the hole and Spike is now missing a pane of glass, sorry about that.

He hands the gun back to Spike held between finger and thumb as if it's dirty. "Not you and not the gun. We can't kill it."

The Kaled gurgles and chuckles.

The Doctor's surprise proficiency would be more impressive if he'd ended by shooting the Kaled in the eye instead of Spike's window, but he still notes it as the gun is handed back. Can't kill it... At least it isn't him. What's there other plan here?

Spike glances at Ein briefly, his useless attack dog, then to the Doctor. If they could manage to wrestle it back in the fridge, he could be faster with a chain this time. Or--

"It'll be easier to get it out the window now that it's open."

True point, Spike. But at least you don't have Kaled guts over that yellow couch, because that would be hell to clean.

Never-the-less, the Doctor quickly arms himself with the whisk again. "Do you want to touch it? They usually have a nasty sting."

On the back of the couch though, the Kaled crawls further along.

"WHY. EXTERMINATE. ME!" The Kaled's eye roves around the room and it sees Ein. "BROTHER??"

"Do you have a blanket to hand Spike?"

Spike nods distractedly. The way the thing talks just gets more disturbing the more he hears, and he holds his hand back to warn Ein away.

His confidence in the Doctor suffers at the sight of him grabbing the whisk again, but options are limited and he'd rather deal with it now than pay for it later.

"Yeah, on the bed." He slowly inches over to grab it; nothing sudden. Once he has it in hand, he motions to the window. Between the two of them, maybe they can handle it. "Good time for a nap, don't you think?"

The Doctor nods as Spike goes for the blanket and he tries to cover Spike's movements.

"Oh, I'd say long overdue for nap time."

"NAP-TIME?"

"Yes, sleepy bye-byes. Great Scott, I'm talking to it now."

Still with his whisk, he's not letting go of that too soon, sorry Spike, he reaches for an end of Spike's blanket if he'll let him.

"Hold on. If we put it out of the window, what then?"

He doesn't stop him from taking a hold of the other side, since it might end up taking the two of them to wrestle the thing out. It seems like the Doctor is on board with this until his question.

Just because the monster baby is talking nonsense doesn't mean it can't understand them. Spike smiles through his teeth.

"Then we get lunch."

The Kaled's eye rolls around to look at Spike. Evil glare time, coupled with the sound of its tummy (it has one of those?) rumbling.

"Lunch." The Doctor repeats the word as if the notion had never crossed his mind. Which is a good point, because it hadn't. On the back of that is another thought. "You would have lunch with me?"

Shaking his head as if clearing that, he looks quickly towards the window. "Second floor. The fall wouldn't incapacitate it for long." Been there, done that. The Doctor smiles. "We need a higher window. Excellent. Ready? One, two, three--" He turns, ready to lunge with the blanket if Spike will do the same... and the Kaled is no longer on the back of the couch.

Spike raises an eyebrow at the lunch comment, but he doesn't mention that it was a joke. It's not like he's ever turned down food.

Before he has a chance to ask what 'higher window' the Doctor is thinking about or how he hopes to get it there, he's doing his part in lunging forward, with luck getting it in one try. ...Except it's gone. What are the odds it took the jump for them?

"Damn, it's fast."

Darn it, Spike. He thought you were being super nice.

As for their charge, because there is no way on this planet or any other the Doctor will consider it to be their youngster, the odds of it doing them a favour are slim.

Spoken through clenched teeth, "Oh the little... Cephalopod!" The Doctor looks around wildly for it. "They are deceptively fast and they can jump quite high. Usually aiming for the throat."

From across the room he hears a snick and the room door is swinging open. "Oh no. Quick, after it!"

Spike hopes that the Doctor isn't actually trying to watch his language towards an evil squid-thing. That thought would be more distracting if he didn't catch the movement jutting towards the door.

The hesitation he shows may have something to do with the tempting option of shutting the door and locking themselves inside -- but unfortunately, he remembers how well that's gone before. Without a purposely chosen curse muttered under his breath, he yanks the discarded blanket, and runs out the door.

The Doctor might have been watching his language. Just a little bit. It'd be very easy to curse in Gallifreyan but that's still not nice. He shares the moment's hesitation with Spike but only because he has visions of seeing castle residents being attacked by a squid that's hunting for a nursery rhyme and isn't that a surrealist image.

Spike yanking the blanket brings him some focus and he runs out the door just after him and he frantically looks up and down the hall.

"Do you see it? Which way? I don't want to think what would happen if it came into contact with other people."

Spike stands in the middle of the hall, looking at their two choices of direction and maybe listening for any subsequent screams. It's only a matter of time.

Before deciding on one by chance, even if he's pretty sure it's to the right, he nods.

"Want to split up?"

Out in the hall and turning around in a tight circle, looking this way and that, the Doctor is a little excited and breathless.

"Yes. No! Yes! Both!" Darn it. "The fact it hasn't tried to attack us immediately is... promising but we can't guarantee it won't try to attack any one else and--"

Down the right a vase falls from one of the bookcases in the hall along with a couple of books. "There we go! Come on!" He points and charges after it.

They're lucky that Spike is the calm and collected one, or they'd all be in trouble. Especially since he can now completely envision someone walking along only to get their face chewed off by an alien octopus.

When he hears the noise down the hall, he takes off just behind the Doctor. He doesn't slow down until they get close to the source, then it's back to listening.

"Call to it." Since he's obviously familiar, Spike gives the Doctor a look. Not that he thinks they're related, but if it thinks they are...

This is the Doctor's version of calm and collected. He can thank his lucky stars that the thing under their 'care' seems to be a little... off, or Spike would be seeing a different type of calm and collected altogether.

Skidding to a halt again along with Spike, he stops and gives a raised eyebrow for the look currently being given to him.

"I didn't stop to ask if it had a name, did you?"

He pulls a face and fidgets, beside himself that he would even try it. "Here little..." Emotionless killing monster. "... Cthulhu. Come and get your lunch."

On top of the bookcase behind him, their little monster peeks over the edge with its single roving eye.

Spike's expression is as flat as ever. 'Come get your lunch'? And just when he'd gotten that image of chewed up faces out of his mind.

"Did you hear-?" He interrupts himself as he turns and spots the gross alien thing watching them. See? Calling it worked. Good plan, Spike.

He nods his head towards the bookcase. (Because what else can he do? The plan sort of falls short right around this part.) "Keep talking. Tell it to take a nap or something."

The Doctor shrugs lightly, not put off by the look from Spike in the slightest. "What else am I supposed to say? Heel like a good monster?"

He follows the nod and look, glancing around carefully, then he returns a begrudged look to Spike for it working at all. Perhaps Spike has more experience of being parental with gooey monsters than the Doctor does.

"PLAY. TIIIIME?"

"Oh, and it's off again. No, nap time. Come on, why don't you come down? We need to..." He looks at Spike for help and then he whispers. "What can we say other than 'get rid of it' if 'lunch' is out of the question?"

Play time. Gross.

The Doctor is trying, so Spike does his best to mask any annoyance he's holding over him not being able to speak it down when this thing is clearly from his world.

"How should I know?" He whispers back anyway, but when he turns his eyes back to the creature, he speaks up. "We're not playing, it's time to go back to wherever you came from."

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22 - Your mother warned you there'd be days like these.

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