Patter rolled out from the traders scattered across the market, outrageous claims and shouted imprecations struggling for ascendancy over the blurred chaos of the crowd. Even amongst these purveyors of the art of the bargain there was one who stood out: each answer smooth and practiced, each exhortation, each seemingly spontaneous exclamation falling from his lips in measured cadence, designed to attract the unwary.
Normally the Doctor wouldn’t have spared him even a moment’s notice; he preferred to deal with thieves who didn’t conceal their natures behind a patina of overly hearty good-fellowship.
His ubiquitous grin fell away as he spied the gleaming tangle of metal and wire nestled amongst the parts on the merchant’s table. Disbelief swelled through him as he took a careful step forward. Hesitantly he reached out, dislodging it from its neighbouring pieces and ran his finger across its smooth surface, the slightly greasy feel raising memories buried deep down in his gut. Hefted it and felt its weight as the weight of worlds.
It was from a TARDIS.
Sudden rage lashed him. The thought of someone scavenging the last remnants of his people stirred an anger he knew he mustn’t acknowledge; knew he’d never contain it if once he let it free.
But he couldn’t help the possessiveness, the desire that flashed across his face. Knew it was a mistake when he caught the smug self-satisfaction in the merchant's eyes: knowing he was caught, that he’d pay any price.
It happened sometimes. He encountered artefacts that escaped the erasure of Gallifrey. Pieces that had been elsewhere, in other times, removed or lost before the final Time War. Immune from the ripples in history that had left the Daleks a nightmare to scare naughty children and the Time Lords merely a whisper in the universal collective unconscious.
He should walk away, send Jack to bargain for it, but he couldn’t bear to leave it; afraid it would disappear, leaving only his memory as dubious evidence that it ever existed.
Deliberately dropping the piece back onto the table he summoned his most innocuous persona and began to trade for tangible proof, however inconsequential, that his world once existed.
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unctuous \UNGK-choo-us\, adjective:
1. Of the nature or quality of an unguent or ointment; fatty; oily; greasy.
2. Having a smooth, greasy feel, as certain minerals.
3. Insincerely or excessively suave or ingratiating in manner or speech; marked by a false or smug earnestness or agreeableness.
calm![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
dorky
satisfied
nervous
thoughtful
uncomfortable
out on a limb
Yeah, okay...
Hmmmmm![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
embarrassed
drained
contemplative