ficbit, Doctor Who, "Love and Robots"
So, like, instead of writing a response to Pixar's latest, I thought HAY, TEN AND ROSE CAN DO IT FOR ME. And then I went into the corner to writhe in my own dorkitude.
Spoilers for WALL-E, not really for Doctor Who. Ten/Rose, G.
Love and Robots
*
As they step into the brightness of the corridor she says it's weird, she never thought of it before, after all the times they've saved the planet from destruction. She's been to the future, a future, seen what becomes of her world and when and why, but she asks anyway.
"Could it really happen? Not aliens but us, people, wrecking everything? The Earth nothing but dust and rubbish--"
"And Rubik's cubes," he adds cheerfully. "And Pong. Could be worse. Still got Pong." She cocks an eyebrow and he nearly careens to a stop. "Please tell me you know what Pong is, Rose. I realize it came into being long before your time, in the dark age of disco, but this is why we study history, to understand the clever bits in films about cartoon robots--"
"I know what Pong is. Mickey used to play it on the internet. You're dodging."
"What?" He glances down. A small boy hurtles past his knees, shouting Ee-va! An even smaller girl charges in pursuit, barging between himself and Rose, who reaches out and hooks her arm in his to preclude separation.
"The question."
"Ah." Dodging, yes. For once he really hadn't meant to. He thinks of manifold timelines, wonders how much is worth explaining. "The story's a warning," he says at last. "Not a prophecy. Unless the authorities at Pixar know something I don't, which is unlikely, but not a possibility I'd rule out altogether--"
"High praise, from you," says Rose. She sways against him. "So y' liked it?"
"Oh, I thought it was brilliant." He pauses--a deliberate pause, a looong strategic pause that makes her wait for the big finale, the reveal, the grin that starts cheeky but finishes not cheeky at all, and suddenly the last uneaten two-point-four pieces (not counting unexploded kernels) of popcorn in the tub he's still holding become deeply interesting. "Especially the--at the end. You know."
Amazing things, kernels. All that potential sealed up in little self-contained packets, just waiting to go boom. Not too late to activate the delinquents, if he wanted to be sonic about it. His finger's going to need a licking when he stops noodling it about in the salt at the bottom of the tub. He looks at Rose.
"When she fixed him."
The smile on her face could pop a million kernels on its own, without resorting to sonic anything.
They sneak back into the cinema and see it again.
*
Spoilers for WALL-E, not really for Doctor Who. Ten/Rose, G.
Love and Robots
*
As they step into the brightness of the corridor she says it's weird, she never thought of it before, after all the times they've saved the planet from destruction. She's been to the future, a future, seen what becomes of her world and when and why, but she asks anyway.
"Could it really happen? Not aliens but us, people, wrecking everything? The Earth nothing but dust and rubbish--"
"And Rubik's cubes," he adds cheerfully. "And Pong. Could be worse. Still got Pong." She cocks an eyebrow and he nearly careens to a stop. "Please tell me you know what Pong is, Rose. I realize it came into being long before your time, in the dark age of disco, but this is why we study history, to understand the clever bits in films about cartoon robots--"
"I know what Pong is. Mickey used to play it on the internet. You're dodging."
"What?" He glances down. A small boy hurtles past his knees, shouting Ee-va! An even smaller girl charges in pursuit, barging between himself and Rose, who reaches out and hooks her arm in his to preclude separation.
"The question."
"Ah." Dodging, yes. For once he really hadn't meant to. He thinks of manifold timelines, wonders how much is worth explaining. "The story's a warning," he says at last. "Not a prophecy. Unless the authorities at Pixar know something I don't, which is unlikely, but not a possibility I'd rule out altogether--"
"High praise, from you," says Rose. She sways against him. "So y' liked it?"
"Oh, I thought it was brilliant." He pauses--a deliberate pause, a looong strategic pause that makes her wait for the big finale, the reveal, the grin that starts cheeky but finishes not cheeky at all, and suddenly the last uneaten two-point-four pieces (not counting unexploded kernels) of popcorn in the tub he's still holding become deeply interesting. "Especially the--at the end. You know."
Amazing things, kernels. All that potential sealed up in little self-contained packets, just waiting to go boom. Not too late to activate the delinquents, if he wanted to be sonic about it. His finger's going to need a licking when he stops noodling it about in the salt at the bottom of the tub. He looks at Rose.
"When she fixed him."
The smile on her face could pop a million kernels on its own, without resorting to sonic anything.
They sneak back into the cinema and see it again.
*