Rec: Another Fine Mess
Story: Another Fine Mess
Author: Lyaka
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 6310
Characters/Pairings: Three, Nine, Twelve, Missy, The Master (Delgado), The Brigadier, Twelve/Missy, Three/The Master (Delgado)
Author's Summary: Twelve gets careless in the lab and accidentally whips up a space/time paradox. The Brigadier is not amused. (Shameless multi-era sass fest.)
Warnings: None
Recced Because:
It's funny. It's really, really, really funny. Lyaka has written a comedy of witty sass, dark humour, forbidden love, and enough snark to cause a temporal paradox. Watching Doctors from different eras bicker at each other is something I always enjoy, and this fic delivers on that premise in spades. I dare you to get through it without giggling.
“I understand,” the UNIT Doctor says, clearly not understanding at all. He looks the leather-jacketed Doctor over somewhat skeptically. “And you’re my… tenth self?”
“Ninth,” the big-eared Doctor says dangerously.
Three frowns. “I’m sure I counted it out quite carefully - ”
“Don’t,” the post-War Doctor advises. “I’m Ninth. That’s the end of it. And you’re…” He glances at the current Doctor and frowns.
“Twelfth.”
“Really,” Three says scathingly.
The self-proclaimed Twelfth Doctor raises his eyebrows. “Well, that does seem to be how we’re playing it today.”
Author: Lyaka
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 6310
Characters/Pairings: Three, Nine, Twelve, Missy, The Master (Delgado), The Brigadier, Twelve/Missy, Three/The Master (Delgado)
Author's Summary: Twelve gets careless in the lab and accidentally whips up a space/time paradox. The Brigadier is not amused. (Shameless multi-era sass fest.)
Warnings: None
Recced Because:
It's funny. It's really, really, really funny. Lyaka has written a comedy of witty sass, dark humour, forbidden love, and enough snark to cause a temporal paradox. Watching Doctors from different eras bicker at each other is something I always enjoy, and this fic delivers on that premise in spades. I dare you to get through it without giggling.
“I understand,” the UNIT Doctor says, clearly not understanding at all. He looks the leather-jacketed Doctor over somewhat skeptically. “And you’re my… tenth self?”
“Ninth,” the big-eared Doctor says dangerously.
Three frowns. “I’m sure I counted it out quite carefully - ”
“Don’t,” the post-War Doctor advises. “I’m Ninth. That’s the end of it. And you’re…” He glances at the current Doctor and frowns.
“Twelfth.”
“Really,” Three says scathingly.
The self-proclaimed Twelfth Doctor raises his eyebrows. “Well, that does seem to be how we’re playing it today.”