Missy and 12


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The Stories that Matter fic
Missy and 12
Title: The Stories That Matter
Chapter One: You Said Five Minutes
Chapter Two: "Nobody was Crying"
Fandom: Spooks/Doctor Who crossover
Characters: Ruth Evershed/Eleventh Doctor
Summary: Will Ruth leave spying and run with The Doctor or will she choose to stay with Harry?
Word Count: 690 words
Spoilers: 3.5 of Spooks and up to The God Complex of Doctor Who
Rating: G
Notes: This story was started months ago last year but I didn't have the heart to write spooks fic after s10. Unfortunately, I am a completist and knew this story still has three more parts to go. Here is the second part. Finally.

He’d had to leave them. He couldn’t have kept them on the TARDIS any longer without risking ruining their family. What was left of it anyway. It was all getting very confusing. But as he’d told Amy with a grin on his face, “You haven’t seen the last of me.” His real friends never did. But he also didn’t want to stand over dead bodies, feel more responsibility, and weigh his adventures down with ever increasing guilt.

He was a mad man with a box. The adventures and the danger never stopped. It was who he was. He loved it.

But he needed someone to keep him sane. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Amy that. Humans kept him grounded. Needed saving.

He hadn’t thought of Ruth Evershed for a long time but now he set the co-ordinates for London, 2004. Sexy found the right house for him. He wondered what he would say, what would she say? She had been a very bright, unusual young woman and he’d bet Sexy on Ruth being security. She would understand the realness of danger; understand what that danger could do to a person. She would understand the flavour of adventure.

The TARDIS materialised slowly in her street. The Doctor stepped out of her to see an older man knock on Ruth’s door; some folders under his arm. The Doctor felt foolish. Of course Ruth would have had a life since he had left her in the park outside Westminster. Of course there were people that cared about her. Not every human needed saving from their own personal hells. Ruth Evershed was the type who would be well adjusted.

He silenced the voice protesting at the back of his mind, telling him he was making decisions too quickly. He turned back and set the TARDIS co-ordinates elsewhere; a new planet, a new reality, somewhere that he had never ever been...


Malcolm walked in on Ruth watching The Red Shoes. There were furrows about his brow.

She smiled. “It’s just a film Malcolm.”

“It’s...not that. I thought I saw...” Pause. “Never mind.”

“What is it Malcolm?”

“I’m getting old, Ruth. I thought I saw a blue police box outside of your house. Trick of the eyes. It’s not important anyway. I brought the folders you asked for.”

Ruth nodded, taking the files and turning back to the TV. These days she was so dreadfully lonely. The school girl crush on the man in the choir was part of that. It fed her insecurity. She knew that. Malcolm knew that. The best thing about Malcolm was that he didn’t judge. He was like the brother she had never really had.

She didn’t stop to think about the blue box. Not yet.

“Thank you,” she said.


Malcolm turned away awkwardly and left Ruth by the TV.

He knew that she was damaged. He knew that she was in love with Harry but he wasn’t her brother after all. He couldn’t tell her what to do. It wasn’t his place.

He blinked as he left the house. There was a rippling in the air...


Ruth sighed with relief when Malcolm left. She wondered what he had been talking about? A blue police box? She drew in an excited breath as a memory stirred. That man by Westminster. It couldn’t possibly be him? She had almost convinced herself that it had all been in her head.

She ran to the window. If that man asked her to come away, she would leave now, in a heartbeat. Her only regret would be that she could not say goodbye to her team. No- she was stuck in a rut in London. If that strange man came to her door and asked her, she would travel the stars...

But when she ripped the curtains back there was nothing there at all.

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