Story: 'The Winner Takes it All'

[Seb]

"The Winner Takes it All" By A64. Set before the episode "Rose".

Beep beep beep. She woke up. Today was the first day of work and everything hurt. She gingerly stepped across the room and into the shower. Ho hum.

Twenty minutes later plus a bit of faffing around and she finally gets out the door. And not without seeing her mum off. God, she thought to herself, she ought to win the lottery what with all the telly she watched, the scratchcards, the chats on the phone. No, instead she was living in flats and catching the bus. To work. Wow, that’s new. A proper job. Weeks of sitting around, watching herself slowly turn into her mother with only her boyfriend and mates for company, and she had finally been accepted in a big department store. You know, five floors of clothes, clothes, clothes. Thirty minutes from her, but it was in the centre of London. And not a bad wage, even after her mum got hold of most of it.

Those first day nerves hit in as she walked up to the door. It was like starting school again – when you go in but have no idea who anyone is or what to do with yourself. She turned on the Monday-morning-smile and breezed in.

“Hi, I’ve come about the job. I’m new, meant to be starting today.”
She addressed this to the first person she saw who looked like they worked here. It was a man, in his late thirties.
“Oh yes, I heard there was someone new meant to be starting,” he said, “this place gets busy over Christmas, we could do with an extra hand.”
She kept smiling, even though she hadn’t got a clue what she was doing.
“You’re not the manager, are you?” she asked him.
“Oh no, no... I work down below mainly, just came up to fix some sockets up here. Went a bit haywire.”
She nodded slowly, then looked around for anyone qualified to take an interest in her.
“I can take you to him. The manager, that is.”
“Thanks,” she replied. And she meant it.
“Didn’t catch your name,” he said as he guided her through the throng of shoppers and mannequins.
“Oh, it’s Rose. Rose Tyler.”

The store manager, it turned out, was a friendly man, even if he was grating his teeth through every compliment he made about her. He had little time for the new girl, and since part of floor three was closed off they needed all hands on deck.
“I’m sorry, but... what do I actually do here?” she asked him, plainly.
“It’s a department store, love, not bleedin’ NASA. Put some clothes away or look pretty or whatever you girls do.”
She tried to look nonplussed.
“Go and ask Debbie. She’s head of Human Resources.” He added, if only to get her off his back.
She was about to ask another vitally obvious question when the phone rang. His secretary, asking to put through a D Jones. As far as Rose was concerned the day couldn’t end sooner.

However, by one o’ clock she had learnt the ropes. She was not the only new one there – a girl called Suki who lived up the road was struggling too – and had soon mastered the art of upmarket shelf stacking like, well, a duck to water as her mum would say.
She was just going on her break for lunch when she met that man again.

“That incident on floor three,” he explained when she asked him, “water seeping through everywhere! No wonder that socket almost exploded! And there were customers!”
She laughed. Not at the situation, but at the man’s childish worrying.
“Are you off for lunch?” he inquired.
“Yeah. Mickey’s meeting me in Trafalgar Square for lunch.”
“Mickey?”
“Boyfriend.”
“Ah.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Right,” she said, “Better get on then. Catch you later.” And she walked off.

The man walked off, back up to the third floor. Back to the checking and double checking of the fuses. Ho hum indeed. He missed the strange comfort of working down below, without the shoppers asking if you knew where they kept the designer perfumes and having Abba songs stuck in your head for hours.
Out of the corner of his eye, something was there. As he turned, it darted away, but he could picture its shape in his mind still. It was a person, no animal, but short and dressed in black, like an odd looking goth. Strange.
He followed it. A door marked ‘Staff only’ was slightly ajar. He peered through.
Nothing.
He turned back but someone was there.
“Derek.” he said.
“Hello Pete. What are you doing here?”
“The ceiling’s leaking like a sieve, I told them to get it fixed, but they won’t...”
He trailed off, because Derek’s eyes flashed green slightly. Or was it a trick of the light?
“Are you feeling all right?” he asked the man.
“All right?” repeated Derek. “I am well.”
“Derek, is this another one of your wind-ups?” he asked. For a person who was always joking around, he really knew how to frighten people when it came down to it.
“I am not winding up anything,” said Derek almost robotically, “just awaiting orders.”
“I’m sorry?”
But Derek had pushed past him and through the door.
“What are my orders?” asked Derek. The room he was in was empty, bar a squat figure standing on the desk, as if to make sure that they were the same height.
“I am Graske,” said the figure, “Graske wait for orders himself. Orders from planet Griffoth.”
He laughed to himself. Their plan was going so well. Travelling through time windows and capturing innocent people, replacing them with their own changelings. A plan that could not fail.
A buzz came from the Graske’s pocket communicator. Someone had infiltrated the prison containing all of the kidnapped people! And they had freed them all!
The Graske growled. This man, so-called Doctor, will pay for this! Even if he was only one Graske in a thousand...
There was a scream. It was Derek – the normal Derek, that is.
“Time for Graske to go!” said the alien, and teleported. Which probably left Derek even more puzzled than before.

Rose Tyler had changed. Just ten hours earlier she had been worried, anxious, bemused. And if she could see herself now, laughing with her newfound mates and wondering when the time goes when the people start to leave and the shop shutters go down.
As she was just about to go back to her previous life, of Mickey and a pizza, she saw the man from earlier by the door. He was being pestered by another woman, who Rose recognised from management.
“Got a spare quid?” he asked her, “I need it for the syndicate and I don’t want to upset Fiona again.”
She reluctantly gave it to him.
“Ta. I’ll pay you back, promise.”
“At this rate you won’t have much option not to! Three times in one day.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I’m not normally up here all day, but there was that problem-”
“-in floor three,” she chimed in, “Yeah, I know...” She smiled.
“Going anywhere for your holidays?” he asked.
“Mars.” She said, deadpan.
“Really? I, uh, heard the weather was nice.”
She laughed. “Nah, just kidding. I’m staying put this Christmas. Can’t really afford to travel, and my mum keeps going on about attacks and hurricanes and all that. How about you?”
“Nowhere... I would go to Spain to see some relatives but they’re going away.”
“Ah well.” She sighed. “Still, no place like home is there?”
“No. Sure isn’t.”
Silence. “Well, catch you later then!” he said.
“Yep – I hope so, you’ve got to give me my pound back!” she joked.
“Okay, okay. Rose, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. And you are?” She was so caught up in work that she hadn’t even asked his name.
“Wilson,” he said, “Chief Electrician. But most people call me Peter.”
“See you later then, Peter!” she said, and hurried for the bus.
A thought crossed her mind as she waited in the dark and the cold at the bus stop. She’d won the lottery. Not in a real sense, that would be crazy, but she’d settled in, found friends, got a good job and had a good future. The world was her oyster, so to speak. And at least now she could treat her mum to a decent night out as a treat.

The gods may throw a dice
Their minds as cold as ice
And someone way down here
Loses someone dear

The winner takes it all
The loser has to fall
It's simple and it's plain
Why should I complain?

[Yoda]

Woow thats very good a64.
Didn't know you where that good a writer.
Your better than me!

[MarthaJonesFan]

Very enjoyable read there a64.

[TheDoctor10]

Nice work a64, I can see how i fits in!

[Dalek Thay]

But why Rose? Why not Peter/Wilson? We don't even see Rose in it.......

But still good.

[a64]

But why Rose? Why not Peter/Wilson? We don't even see Rose in it.......

But still good.

Weeeellll...

It wasn't designed as such as a Timeslip story. More like a Doctor Who story, but with Wilson in. Maybe I should fix that bit.

[Seb]

But why Rose? Why not Peter/Wilson? We don't even see Rose in it.......

But still good.

Ah - but surely that's what makes this so good? It's a story that could fit in either Universe (hence the '?' after Timeslip) and that adds something very special. You know that either Peter or Rose won't be very affected at the others deaths, and you know one is destined to die.

Add the Graske in for a bit of excitment, plus make a point of how dull their lives before the Doctor are and I think you've got a clever, nice piece.

I guess opinions like yours, whilst completely justified and fair, are the reason we don't see many (if any!) 'pre-Doctor' companion stories. I'd personally like to see more of that - build the character.

[timelord6]

wasn't there a dr who book called this?

[a64]

wasn't there a dr who book called this?

Yes, but I couldn't resist the notion. And it was 'Winner Takes All'.