As Brittle As Quicksilver (Fourth in The Creators Saga)

The Fires of Pompeii

Let's just say . . . it will be necessary to read the interlude following this chapter. };) Keep the comments coming to find out who Alice's next sibling is!

Here's "The Fires of Pompeii!"

***

The Doctor looked out of the TARDIS to see where they were, then grinned triumphantly. "Ancient Rome!" he announced, pulling the Alchemist out, Donna bringing up the rear. "Well, not for them, obviously. To all intents and purposes, right now, this is brand new Rome."

"Oh, my God," Donna looked around, obviously stunned. "It's . . . it's so . . . Roman! This is fantastic!"

"I hope it's Roman," the Alchemist quipped as the Doctor laughed at Donna's fascination. "That'd be an interesting thing to add to the list of failed places the Doctor has tried to travel to."

"Hang on, you're keeping a list?!" the Doctor looked at her incredulously.

"Yes," the Alchemist smirked, then listed off on her fingers. "Cardiff, one year late, seeing Rose's father die, 1879, parallel world, Elizabeth's coronation - "

"Hang on, the parallel world was not my fault!"

"I'm here, in Rome," Donna continued freaking out as the Time Lords bickered. "Donna Noble, in Rome. This is just weird! I mean, everyone here's dead!"

That broke their small feud up. "Well, don't tell them that!" the Doctor snickered.

"Hold on a minute," Donna frowned, seeing a sign. "That sign over there's in English. Are you having me on? Are we in Epcot?"

"No, no, no, no, that's the TARDIS translation circuits," the Doctor shook his head. "Just makes it look like English. Speech as well. You're talking Latin right now."

Donna stared at him. "Seriously?"

"Mmm."

"I just said seriously in Latin?"

"Yes, you did," the Alchemist grinned at her enthusiasm.

"What if I said something in actual Latin, like veni vidi vici? My dad said that when he came back from football? If I said veni vidi vici to that lot, what would it sound like?"

"I'm not sure," the Doctor frowned. "You have to think of difficult questions, don't you?"

"I'm going to try it," Donna said, going over to a fruit seller.

"What do you think?" the Alchemist asked the Doctor.

He tilted his head back and forth. "Can't sound too different. Italian."

She shook her head. "It's got to sound slightly off. I bet Welsh."

"Five quid?"

"You're on."

"Afternoon, sweetheart," the seller smiled at Donna. "What can I get you, my love?"

"Er . . . " Donna cleared her throat. "Veni vidi vici."

The Doctor cringed as the Alchemist laughed hysterically. "Huh?" the seller blinked. "Sorry? Me no speak Celtic. No can do, missy."

"You owe me," the Alchemist sang loftily.

"Oh, shut it," the Doctor sighed, shaking his head. He should know by now not to make bets with his Bonded. She'd win every time.

"Yeah," Donna drawled as she headed back. "How's he mean, Celtic?"

"You sound Welsh," the Alchemist giggled as they walked on through the market.

"Don't our clothes look a bit odd?"