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There were very few upsides to being left behind. Fitz, having stared idly at the same page in a positivity self-help book for the better part of twenty minutes, lit up another fag. He had made the best of situation, he reckoned. The Doctor always remembered him eventually (Fitz’s memory kept flickering vaguely to the millennium with the Faction Paradox, a memory within a memory within a memory that was more false than true by now), so as long as he was a good little boy scout and kept within the same general area of where he’d been left, he was sure the Doctor would come back.
There was a good chance of that, as Fitz had taken to leaving post-it notes on his bedroom door of the place and time period before stepping foot out of the TARDIS. Leave him once, shame on him, leave him twice, and the boy develops counter-measures to being forgotten. He didn’t hold any ill-will — it certainly wasn’t the Doctor’s fault that he suffered from amnesia. He just wished that the Doctor didn’t have to panic when he did remember alone. He was part companion, part emotional support animal, and Fitz had taken the mantle with no complaint.
His post-it note system, Fitz decided, was definitely an upside. At least the Doctor would be able to approximate when to come get him. And as he’d stepped off the TARDIS with the psychic paper and a full wallet — buying fags was considerably difficult in modern times when his ID had him as being born in the 1930s — he was at least not stuck living off a career in busking in cheap motels. Another upside. He was on Earth, upside. He had his cigs, upside. He closed the book and shoved it back in his jacket pocket, locking the hotel room as he left to return to the library.
At least he was getting caught up on his reading list thanks to this little forced vacation. He came to a stop fifteen minutes later in front of a suspiciously empty lot. He looked around — there was the coffee shop where he always flirted with the pretty young bird in charge of the register, there was the Istanbul supermarket where he bought his asparagus and tomatoes, and the bus stop in front of the library was still there. Fitz turned his back on the empty space for one moment, two moments, and then turned around, hoping that maybe he’d been hallucinating the disappearance of the library that had been there yesterday.
There wasn’t rubble, no panic that suggested a bombing, and no yellow construction tape. “I better not get a late fine for this,” he scowled, hopping over the shrubbery to take a look around the empty lot.
Spaciotemporal shunting was not a feeling Nyssa was completely unfamiliar with. Just as she was familiar with the dizzy sensation that always accompanied it. So many emotions all at once in a wave that she simply had to learn to surf. It had taken a good deal of time, to learn to block some of the input she received. Time and a great deal of going countercurrent to Traken culture, a feat that wouldn't have been quite so painful if there had been anyone else to share her memories of said culture with.
But, as Lasarti had said once, there was no point crying over spilt milk.
Nyssa had taken a moment to center herself before drawing up to her full height - petite at that was - and moving to survey her surroundings. It was a mostly empty parking lot with green shrubbery dotting what looked to be parking spaces. She paced the area curiously, wondering what might have triggered her own arrival, as well as the simple question of where she was. If it had been night, she might have been able to take a decent guess at least at which galaxy she was in, but single sun, single moon planet with breathable atmosphere didn't narrow down the possibilities all that much.
I better not get a late fine for this.
The rustle of leaves captured Nyssa's attention as much as the words themselves. It was English, if she wasn't mistaken, a language she'd picked up over the course of her travels with the Doctor. Translation circuit or not, she'd pestered Tegan enough to be reasonably fluent.
Fitz Kreiner, to his credit, did not shriek when someone replied to him. He looked up so sharply he felt something in his neck crack, releasing a sigh of relief. It was a young woman — petite and beautiful, although Fitz had traveled with enough petite and beautiful women to know that she could probably easily murder him. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket, grinning at her with his most charming smile. “Can’t exactly turn in the books now, can I?” he pointed out, taking a hand out to gesture at the empty lot where the library had stood.
“I just got the library card, too,” Fitz said, taking out his embarrassingly old and worn wallet to pull the library card out from the slot. “See? Issue date last week. You’d think they’d have warned me if they were going to bulldoze the library. ‘Hey, Mr. Kreiner, here’s your card an’ all, but maybe think about goin’ to the library ’cross town’. It's just good customer service, you know?” He pocketed his wallet again. In the grand scheme, the missing library would probably not fret about the missing books.
Anyway, the real question was if this lady didn’t know about the missing library, then why was she lurking around the parking lot? “Name’s Fitz, by the way,” he said belatedly. “Are you lost?”
Nyssa hadn't meant to startle the humanoid male, and she gave him an apologetic smile as soon as she realized that she had. The young woman was quite curious though, not to mention determined to get back to her work. People needed her. She couldn't just relax wherever whatever the cosmic powers had decided to dump her.
At first, the man's explanation only left Nyssa feeling more lost. What did books have to do with late fines, after all. But as he talked about library cards and customer service, she slowly remembered some of Tegan's description of how lending libraries worked on Earth. Perhaps, Nyssa thought, it was the same here.
"Do your buildings often take off on their own?" She asked curiously, before radiating a silent apology when he introduced himself and she realized she hadn't either. "Nyssa. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Fitz Kreiner."
“Not typically,” he answered, although with his luck the Doctor had probably dropped him off in some strange alternate universe where the buildings likely did just that. “Not in my experience, anyway,” he amended. Fitz reckoned he would have heard about it on the news if buildings did just walk off — especially public service buildings. Or at least more people would be gathering around the empty lot to complain about the inconvenient lack of library.
Fitz looked up sharply at her name. He’d heard the name Nyssa before, hadn’t he? When the TARDIS had pumped his head full of the Doctor’s past lives? Or maybe the original Fitz had known of her? From the Doctor’s guilt-ridden sleep-talking? The trouble, Fitz reckoned, with having a memory that spanned over a thousand years was the names and reasons all kept blurring together. “Just Fitz,” he grinned. “Mr. Fitz Kreiner is my dad.”
Nyssa's smile was easy going, not startling at the sharp curiousity the man in front of her exhibited. There was no malice to him, even something comfortably familiar about him. Not wisdom, not quite, but an even temperament paired with no seeming deceit that Nyssa could certainly appreciate. She loved quite a few highly strung personalities, but it was ever so relaxing to be around calmer individuals.
"Well then, Just Fitz," Nyssa replied easily, assuming he didn't want to be called Fitz Junior. Perhaps this was a naming convention of the people here? "Perhaps we should see what happened to your library." She didn't have much in the way of equipment on her, but that had never stopped the Doctor from poking about and helping, so that's what she would do too. Giving Fitz another encouraging smile, she moved forward to inspect the area. "Is there anything you don't recognize?"
The possibility hadn't missed her that the library's disappearance and her own appearance coincided neatly. She just couldn't fathom why anyone would do such a thing intentionally.
“Sounds like a brill plan, Nyssa,” Fitz grinned, sticking his hands in his pockets. This would be a story for the Doctor — hey, Doc, I actively sought out a mystery concerning a disappearing library — and whether it’d be the library or the active participation that’d strike the Doctor as funny, Fitz was sure that he would laugh. He’d have to be careful bringing Nyssa into the conversation; if he had her name because of the TARDIS, then it would likely end disastrously introducing the pair. The Doctor nearly had a breakdown when he’d accidentally found the diary of a girl named ‘Susan’ that had traveled with him.
Yeah, he’d have to tread lightly.
Fitz sucked his teeth, looking around critically. He’d recognized the coffee store and the Istanbul shop — the only two indications that he’d not just confused the directions today. “I don’t think so,” he answered, counting the buildings and naming them off. There were some he’d never noticed in so much detail, but he’d at least glanced at them before. He turned on his heels, squinting at the rest of the buildings. “Actually. Never noticed that one,” Fitz said, pointing at a tourist information center squished between a pub and a thrift store. He held at his arm like a proper gentleman. “Care to join me?”
Nyssa's optimism had certainly flagged during the War. Seeing and feeling so much sadness and devastation had made her want to weep. She'd found ways to be useful, and that had helped. She'd even had a companion for a time in Doctor Foster, and that had helped her just as much. But War like that would make anyone guarded, particularly a Traken.
That guard was remarkably low in the presence of the sheer affability Fitz Kreiner possessed. She found herself buoyed by his mood, whatever he found so amusing Nyssa was happy for. The Trakenite waited patiently as he listed off different buildings, confident that if there was a clue, they'd be able to find it.
It didn't take long to be rewarded.
Accepting Fitz's arm with another slight smile, she dipped her head politely. It was still so easy to slip into the role of a fine lady, like... riding a bicycle, Tegan had said.
Fitz didn’t try to suppress his chuckle as she took his arm. “You’re welcome kindly,” he told her, his voice serious, though the amused glint in his eyes and the wide grin gave him away. He led her across the street, grateful at least that the traffic wasn’t awful — which was actually a little odd, now he thought about it. He let go of her arm to hold the door to the tourist information center open, bowing lowly and waving her inside. “Lady Nyssa, might I present to you—”
The words died in his throat at the banner above the receptionist, which read quite proudly: WELCOME TO EARTH LONDON! The receptionist was staring at them with a look of absolute pure excitement and confidence, to the point where Fitz read and reread the sign. “—uh, Earth London Tourist Information Center.” Fitz wandered over to the bulletin board. “Hey Nyssa,” he called, a laugh in voice, “reckon we need an ‘English human culture integration course’? It’s free of charge for new Earth settlers.”
Nyssa took him at face value, even if his emotions seemed to indicate he was entertained. That could have been anything, the woman was sure. As it was, she thought this Fitz quite perceptive for introducing her as a lady. She was normally known as a doctor these days, but she wasn't here with her medical droids or the Traken.
Walking into the tourist information center, she felt a wave of nostalgia. She'd played tourist the first time she'd come to Earth as well. How amusing that she was in that position once again.
"I must admit, it's nice they're offering it this time. I visited here in my youth, you know. No one seemed to believe my friend and I weren't from these parts," she replied with mild amusement of her own. "I wouldn't mind trying it, although I can't say I'm convinced we should settle here. Are you?"
Nyssa gave Fitz a charming smile, visually paying exclusive attention to him although she was paying attention to the emotions of the receptionist just in case.
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