BAWWW FITZ BAWWWWW

[cosmic_celery]

Excerpt from an EDA, The Deadstone Memorial by Trevor Baxendale, which I finished today:

For the first time Fitz actually found himself having to contemplate a future here on Earth. Stuck here on Earth. That's what it felt like. The Doctor had been spot on, of course, in his assesment: Fitz was scared of the Earth, scared that one day he might be forced to choose between his home planet and the TARDIS.

Or that the choice would be made for him.

"How long are we going to give it?" Trix asked quietly as she sipped her coffee.

"As long as it takes," Fitz said.

Trix pursed her lips, and Fitz guessed that she was probably getting itchy feet. Without the prospect of being able to whiz of to another place, Trix was already getting bored. She didn't have the same feelings that he did for the TARDIS and the Doctor. To her, traveling the cosmos was just an opportunity. The TARDIS was just her ticket to a great sightseeing tour of the universe. Without it she would simply move on anyway, looking for the next chance of a hustle. Outside the TARDIS door, her world was still waiting for her.

"Fitz," She said eventually, "Sooner or later you're going to have to face the fact the he's gone. For good.

He shook his head. "No way."

"It's no use just denying it."

"You don't understand," he said bitterly. "You don't know him like I do."

"Nobody lives forever, Fitz."

"He isn't dead," Fitz said bluntly. He let his gaze settle on the control console, watched its little lights blinking slowly in the darkness. "I know he isn't."

He stood up because he could feel his eyes burning and he didn't want her to see. "You can go if you want to, Trix," he told her. "I'm staying." He picked up his mug and headed for his room.

***

And because Fitz without the Doctor makes me sad, here's another bit:

"Bacon, eggs, sausage and black pudding!" said the Doctor.
"With fried bread and plenty of brown sauce!" laughed Fitz.
"And strong, hot army tea!"
"Pure malt Scotch."
"The smell of freshly cut grass."
"The sound of a rotary mower on a summer afternoon..."

They were walking through the dark woods now, keeping to the path in the circle of light thrown by Fitz's torch. They were still bouncing favorite earth things back and forth.

"Snow on Christmas Day," said the Doctor.
"A winter evening in front of a real fire," said Fitz.
"The sound of a cat purring."
"Beautiful women..." said Fitz wistfully.
"Ghost stories!" cried the Doctor. "I love ghost stories. I knew Edgar Allen Poe, you know."
"I could have guessed," smiled Fitz ruefully.

Comments

bawww, indeed.

[bonamoz.livejournal.com]

Trevor Baxendale's novels are the best.

[studyofrunning.livejournal.com]

This is making me want to force myself to finish The Taint so I can move on with the EDAs.