Spaceman by Bif Naked
The control panel was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was tiny glowing lights that seemed to emanate from beneath a clear surface, yet as her fingers pressed to the milky white panel, the lights flared, grew brighter,
Sparing a glance behind her, Donna tried to calculate just how much time she had left. In her head she was counting, trying to keep track of how much time she had. It was always thirty minutes, give or take a few seconds, between checks. She’d spent the better part of four hours doing nothing more than sitting and counting, counting and cursing the bloody bastards holding her. She’d been gone from her cell for about twenty minutes. Ten minutes to figure out how to make the lights work and find a communication system to get her ass rescued.
Ten minutes and all she could get the coloured lights to do was to open and close the door to the room she was in, and starting playing something that sounded vaguely like something by the Cure… only done in tubular bells and chimes.
“Bloody, bleeding hell,’ she snapped, fingers jabbing at the lights as if to take out her frustrations on the sorbet colours as they flared and dimmed. “Come on. There has to be a…”
The squawk of a radio nearly deafened her, causing Donna to clamp her hands over her ears. “About time,’ she snapped, forcing herself to move her fingers back over the lights again. This time she was rewarded with a soft hiss.
“Mayday. Mayday. OI! Anyone out there?” She heard nothing but static. “Hello?” Donna jabbed at more buttons just as she heard the door behind her whoosh open. “Calling all aliens,’ she yelled, afraid to glance back. “Come rescue me!”
“What do you think I’m here for?” The voice was decidedly masculine, accented, and definitely familiar. Spinning around, she couldn’t believe the sight before her. The ears. The leather. It was him.
“Doctor!” With a squeal she launched herself at her husband, arms around his waist as she kissed him soundly. “What took you so bleeding long?!
She smiled as he opened his mouth, saying in unison with him: “Oi! My ears!”
Sparing a glance behind her, Donna tried to calculate just how much time she had left. In her head she was counting, trying to keep track of how much time she had. It was always thirty minutes, give or take a few seconds, between checks. She’d spent the better part of four hours doing nothing more than sitting and counting, counting and cursing the bloody bastards holding her. She’d been gone from her cell for about twenty minutes. Ten minutes to figure out how to make the lights work and find a communication system to get her ass rescued.
Ten minutes and all she could get the coloured lights to do was to open and close the door to the room she was in, and starting playing something that sounded vaguely like something by the Cure… only done in tubular bells and chimes.
“Bloody, bleeding hell,’ she snapped, fingers jabbing at the lights as if to take out her frustrations on the sorbet colours as they flared and dimmed. “Come on. There has to be a…”
The squawk of a radio nearly deafened her, causing Donna to clamp her hands over her ears. “About time,’ she snapped, forcing herself to move her fingers back over the lights again. This time she was rewarded with a soft hiss.
“Mayday. Mayday. OI! Anyone out there?” She heard nothing but static. “Hello?” Donna jabbed at more buttons just as she heard the door behind her whoosh open. “Calling all aliens,’ she yelled, afraid to glance back. “Come rescue me!”
“What do you think I’m here for?” The voice was decidedly masculine, accented, and definitely familiar. Spinning around, she couldn’t believe the sight before her. The ears. The leather. It was him.
“Doctor!” With a squeal she launched herself at her husband, arms around his waist as she kissed him soundly. “What took you so bleeding long?!
She smiled as he opened his mouth, saying in unison with him: “Oi! My ears!”