Fic: Two Old Men and a Park Bench
Story: Two Old Men and a Park Bench
Author: EmachinesCat
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 4055
Author's Summary: The bowtied man smiled, a smile so different but so familiar, and as Wilfred's jaw dropped, realization came. "Doctor?" His voice shook a bit. The grin grew wider. "Hello, Wilf."
Characters/Pairings: Eleventh Doctor, Wilfred Mott
Warnings: None
Recced because: I'm a sucker for Wilfred Mott and any Doctor. I've read many stories like this, where the Eleventh Doctor appears and shows his new face to the man he would have been proud to call his dad. This one is entirely enjoyable and fun while being sad and nostalgic at the same time!
Excerpt:
"'S'alright," Wilfred assured him, "your hair's nice now, too. Modern. Nearly every young lad today has that flippy hair. It's 'cool', I suppose."
The Doctor beamed. "This is why I like you, Wilfred Mott! Always know the right thing to say to get me smiling! My hair is 'cool'. I knew it!"
Still a little begrudging of this new Doctor, Wilfred found he had to tack on, "Mind you, that's just what the them magazines say. I think them boys struttin' around with hair in their eyes look like girls."
The Doctor's mouth hung open, then he laughed loudly so that a little boy playing with his dog a few yards away jumped and glanced over toward his neighbors on the bench before scooting away. "Wilfred, don't you ever change!" the Doctor grinned. Wilfred gave a small grin but still felt guilty, as if he were letting the real Doctor down.
"Wilf, I know what I said, and I meant it. I really did. But I swear, I'm still here. I remember everything that happened to me during my last incarnation, and the one before that, and all the way to the beginning." His voice was soft, sad. "Sometimes I wish I didn't remember everything. I wish I could forget about the Time War and the Daleks and Bad Wolf Bay and the Library of the Dead and watching everyone I love leave and die and forget…" His eyes were misted over and Wilfred struggled to keep his expression straight, and this time it wasn't sorrow for the loss of the Doctor, but for the losses of the Doctor.
Author: EmachinesCat
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 4055
Author's Summary: The bowtied man smiled, a smile so different but so familiar, and as Wilfred's jaw dropped, realization came. "Doctor?" His voice shook a bit. The grin grew wider. "Hello, Wilf."
Characters/Pairings: Eleventh Doctor, Wilfred Mott
Warnings: None
Recced because: I'm a sucker for Wilfred Mott and any Doctor. I've read many stories like this, where the Eleventh Doctor appears and shows his new face to the man he would have been proud to call his dad. This one is entirely enjoyable and fun while being sad and nostalgic at the same time!
Excerpt:
"'S'alright," Wilfred assured him, "your hair's nice now, too. Modern. Nearly every young lad today has that flippy hair. It's 'cool', I suppose."
The Doctor beamed. "This is why I like you, Wilfred Mott! Always know the right thing to say to get me smiling! My hair is 'cool'. I knew it!"
Still a little begrudging of this new Doctor, Wilfred found he had to tack on, "Mind you, that's just what the them magazines say. I think them boys struttin' around with hair in their eyes look like girls."
The Doctor's mouth hung open, then he laughed loudly so that a little boy playing with his dog a few yards away jumped and glanced over toward his neighbors on the bench before scooting away. "Wilfred, don't you ever change!" the Doctor grinned. Wilfred gave a small grin but still felt guilty, as if he were letting the real Doctor down.
"Wilf, I know what I said, and I meant it. I really did. But I swear, I'm still here. I remember everything that happened to me during my last incarnation, and the one before that, and all the way to the beginning." His voice was soft, sad. "Sometimes I wish I didn't remember everything. I wish I could forget about the Time War and the Daleks and Bad Wolf Bay and the Library of the Dead and watching everyone I love leave and die and forget…" His eyes were misted over and Wilfred struggled to keep his expression straight, and this time it wasn't sorrow for the loss of the Doctor, but for the losses of the Doctor.