Doctor Who: Damaged Goods

Damaged Goods
by Russell T Davies

Bev lay awake, hoping that Father Christmas would come, but the Tall Man came instead.

She could hear his voice in the front room, but her mother

New York had not yet finished with July the twenty

Sunday was not a day of rest, at least not for the Capper

Roz lit another cigarette and looked at the flat

The last policeman left the Capper

When Monday morning proper arrived, Gabriel Tyler dressed at nine o

Winnie answered the knock at the door.

Something is rotten in the state of Denver, or whatever, thought Chris. The drug hunt had not gone as planned. The Doctor had told Chris to cast his net wide, warning that if he sought cocaine in the Quadrant

Two women stood in their kitchens and considered their knives. Winnie Tyler took the plastic

Only the anglepoise lamp at Steven

The Doctor spoke of wars and legends and histories older than the galaxy while smaller, more intricate, equally deadly patterns took their final shape as human and Gallifreyan lots intertwined. The people now gathered in the design would not amount to the smallest scintilla against the vast panorama which had set events in motion, and yet each person played a vital role in re

For a second, but only a second, the engrams closed again as the N-form resisted the command. The hull, the size of three Cities of London, turned in an attempt to wrench its material back into the dimensional pocket.

There were few uncorrupted circuits left. Everything else had surrendered to the woman

Eva Jericho let the little man approach. She lifted him into the throne room on a disc of silver, like a meal served on a platter. His face was grave. He carried a gun, though he handled the weapon as if it would contaminate him. Around them, everything was still. Snakes and blades and teeth did not stir and light shone through the chamber floor, illuminating the faces of her chosen people in their crimson frieze. Paradise was at peace as Mrs Jericho received her ambassador from the lowly places.

Eva looked into his eyes and saw so much there: the galaxies and vortices from her archives turned in this man

At ten past midnight, Chris found David and his landlord, Harry Harvey. The east wall of the Quadrant was the only one left standing, though it groaned ominously and rubble crumbled through the floors. The ceiling had collapsed on the inhabitants of flat 28, but the bed had prevented them from being crushed and formed a shelter. Chris lifted timbers off them and he saw an old wound in Harry Harvey

Mike

The Jerichos are going to appeal against the decision next month, so here