Comment_fics: Doctor Who
Doctor Who, Ten & Jackie, Give my love to Rose - Johnny Cash
He meets Jackie in a little cafe. She has tea. He ponders how in the world she got here. But he doesn't ponder too hard, because once he figures it out he'll have to send her back, and then...well, it's a connection to a place, to people, that he thought he'd lost forever.
So instead, he looks up at her and asks, "How am I?"
She raises an eyebrow and her teacup. "Honestly? Pretty rubbish at anything useful. How you've been alive all those hundreds of years and not know how to use a vacuum I've no idea."
"Vacuums haven't been around hundreds of years with me. That helps."
She "Mmms" suspiciously at him, and sips her tea. "Wouldn't say this to you, mind." She says carefully, and he nods, understanding completely, "But you don't half make Rose happy. Lights up every time you're an idiot. Gotta wonder how long that'll last, but it's good for 'er."
The Doctor grins. "Good. I'm glad she's...I'm glad she's well."
"Lord knows I am. First time you left, she wittered on half the night about you bein' alone out there in the wilderness, about how you're not sued to being human like the rest of us, la-dee-da, and I said to her, Rose, I said, Rose he's been alive eight hundred years or some rubbish and it seems to me, I said, it seems to me that he can still talk, can't he? And he'll be fine so long as he can talk himself out of it. Can't run a bloody vacuum but can talk himself out of anything under the sun."
"The first time I left?" The Doctor asks.
"Oh, sure. What, you think now you're human you'll spend all your time in one place? Let me tell you, biology isn't all that much if you're anything to go by. Why it's not a month gone by these days before the two of you are - "
"Wait." The Doctor holds up a hand. "Hang on, say that again?"
Jackie looks at him oddly. "Which bit? The bit about it not being a month gone by?"
"No, no. The biology...biology isn't all that much if I'm..." He stands. "Jackie, come on, I've figured it out, I know how to send you home."
"Hang on just a mo', I haven't finished my tea!" Jackie wails at him as he drags her out the back of the cafe. She down the rest of her cup and send an apologetic wave the waiter's way.
"I stole that tea." She says accusingly as the she closes the door of the Tardis. "You made me leave and I stole that tea."
"Don't worry." He says. "The police won't be able to catch you, you'll be on the other side of the universe." He grins delightedly, and she scowls at him.
He moves to the center hub of the Tardis and sticks his hand into a hand-shaped slow. "My biology was the key, see. No other Time Lords left, they won't raise flags, and human me has enough me in him I can use him as a tracer to get you back where you belong." Something begins to hum, deep inside the Tardis, and the Doctor pulls back his hand with a hiss. "That smarts."
Jackie looks at his face. "Are you coming with me?"
The Doctor looks at her, and then looks away, and then looks back, licking his lips. "She's happy, Jackie." He says.
She nods. "Yeah, she is."
He nods back. "Besides!" He says. "You probably brought enough rift-crossing residue with you for one, but I doubt it'll stretch to me, too. Might end up half there, half here, and then where would we be? Besides there and here, of course."
Jackie blinks. "Probably? What do you mean, probably? Doctor - "
The Doctor grins and gives her a wave. "Bye, Jackie." His face turns more serious. "Give her my love, would you?"
She crosses her arms as she fades away. "She already has it."
Dr. Who, Ten & Donna, after a fight on the phone with her mum, Donna just needs a moment of silence. The Doctor takes her to the middle of the black.
"No, I - MUM! I am not living on the streets - No - no - FINE. Alright! I'll be bloody home tonight!"
Donna slammed her phone closed as much as it was possible to slam a cellphone and then tossed it onto the table. The Doctor watched her with sympathy. "To London, then." He started turning dials and twisting levers.
Donna shook her head. "No."
The Doctor looked at her with surprise. "No? Donna...if there's one thing I have learned in the last - well, two hundred years, to be fair, it's to never piss off the mums."
Donna folded her arms and looked at him. "Hello? Time machine? We'll get there tonight. Just not...tonight right now."
The Doctor looked at her for a long moment and then released the lever. "Alright. Where, then?"
"I don't KNOW!" Donna cried, frustrated. "I don't - I just need a minute. Some bloody silence."
The Doctor nodded. "I can do silence." And he was moving again, hitting buttons, catching up his hammer and sending them spinning through space with a great clanging, whirring song.
Donna groaned and massaged her temples. "You wouldn't know silence if it bit you in the arse, you great - "
The Tardis stopped.
The Doctor stepped to the door. "I know silence." He said, his face almost sad, and then he opened the door.
Beyond it, there was...nothing. Nothing and everything. Donna stepped to the edge of the doorway and looked out into the black.
It wasn't really black. It was black the same way that the wing of a raven was black, the same way that the pupils of someone's eyes were black, the same way that Death wears black robes. It was a black that led to all color, that contained all color and let it out in little flashes that might have been real but were probably just a trick of the light, if there'd been any.
In an abstract sort of way she knew there were stars in it, knew there were whole planets and solar systems and giant clouds of iridescent gas. But she knew it in the same way as when you look at at the face of a loved one and know that it's made up of atoms.
Her throat worked, but she had nothing to say, she had no idea how to even say anything. It was entirely silent here, as if words and sounds and screams and laughter were all just too small to matter, as if the noises it makes when a world turns was too small, as if the singing of the stars and of space itself was beneath its notice.
Silently, Donna began to cry.
The Doctor closed the door, and Donna sat down in the middle of the floor. "Beautiful." She finally said. "Horrible. Bloody great nothing of a place." She shuddered.
The Doctor nodded, and then, very slightly, smiled. "But it was silent."
Donna stared at him. "Yeah, it was at that." She held out a hand, and he pulled her to her feet. "Take me home?"
He meets Jackie in a little cafe. She has tea. He ponders how in the world she got here. But he doesn't ponder too hard, because once he figures it out he'll have to send her back, and then...well, it's a connection to a place, to people, that he thought he'd lost forever.
So instead, he looks up at her and asks, "How am I?"
She raises an eyebrow and her teacup. "Honestly? Pretty rubbish at anything useful. How you've been alive all those hundreds of years and not know how to use a vacuum I've no idea."
"Vacuums haven't been around hundreds of years with me. That helps."
She "Mmms" suspiciously at him, and sips her tea. "Wouldn't say this to you, mind." She says carefully, and he nods, understanding completely, "But you don't half make Rose happy. Lights up every time you're an idiot. Gotta wonder how long that'll last, but it's good for 'er."
The Doctor grins. "Good. I'm glad she's...I'm glad she's well."
"Lord knows I am. First time you left, she wittered on half the night about you bein' alone out there in the wilderness, about how you're not sued to being human like the rest of us, la-dee-da, and I said to her, Rose, I said, Rose he's been alive eight hundred years or some rubbish and it seems to me, I said, it seems to me that he can still talk, can't he? And he'll be fine so long as he can talk himself out of it. Can't run a bloody vacuum but can talk himself out of anything under the sun."
"The first time I left?" The Doctor asks.
"Oh, sure. What, you think now you're human you'll spend all your time in one place? Let me tell you, biology isn't all that much if you're anything to go by. Why it's not a month gone by these days before the two of you are - "
"Wait." The Doctor holds up a hand. "Hang on, say that again?"
Jackie looks at him oddly. "Which bit? The bit about it not being a month gone by?"
"No, no. The biology...biology isn't all that much if I'm..." He stands. "Jackie, come on, I've figured it out, I know how to send you home."
"Hang on just a mo', I haven't finished my tea!" Jackie wails at him as he drags her out the back of the cafe. She down the rest of her cup and send an apologetic wave the waiter's way.
"I stole that tea." She says accusingly as the she closes the door of the Tardis. "You made me leave and I stole that tea."
"Don't worry." He says. "The police won't be able to catch you, you'll be on the other side of the universe." He grins delightedly, and she scowls at him.
He moves to the center hub of the Tardis and sticks his hand into a hand-shaped slow. "My biology was the key, see. No other Time Lords left, they won't raise flags, and human me has enough me in him I can use him as a tracer to get you back where you belong." Something begins to hum, deep inside the Tardis, and the Doctor pulls back his hand with a hiss. "That smarts."
Jackie looks at his face. "Are you coming with me?"
The Doctor looks at her, and then looks away, and then looks back, licking his lips. "She's happy, Jackie." He says.
She nods. "Yeah, she is."
He nods back. "Besides!" He says. "You probably brought enough rift-crossing residue with you for one, but I doubt it'll stretch to me, too. Might end up half there, half here, and then where would we be? Besides there and here, of course."
Jackie blinks. "Probably? What do you mean, probably? Doctor - "
The Doctor grins and gives her a wave. "Bye, Jackie." His face turns more serious. "Give her my love, would you?"
She crosses her arms as she fades away. "She already has it."
Dr. Who, Ten & Donna, after a fight on the phone with her mum, Donna just needs a moment of silence. The Doctor takes her to the middle of the black.
"No, I - MUM! I am not living on the streets - No - no - FINE. Alright! I'll be bloody home tonight!"
Donna slammed her phone closed as much as it was possible to slam a cellphone and then tossed it onto the table. The Doctor watched her with sympathy. "To London, then." He started turning dials and twisting levers.
Donna shook her head. "No."
The Doctor looked at her with surprise. "No? Donna...if there's one thing I have learned in the last - well, two hundred years, to be fair, it's to never piss off the mums."
Donna folded her arms and looked at him. "Hello? Time machine? We'll get there tonight. Just not...tonight right now."
The Doctor looked at her for a long moment and then released the lever. "Alright. Where, then?"
"I don't KNOW!" Donna cried, frustrated. "I don't - I just need a minute. Some bloody silence."
The Doctor nodded. "I can do silence." And he was moving again, hitting buttons, catching up his hammer and sending them spinning through space with a great clanging, whirring song.
Donna groaned and massaged her temples. "You wouldn't know silence if it bit you in the arse, you great - "
The Tardis stopped.
The Doctor stepped to the door. "I know silence." He said, his face almost sad, and then he opened the door.
Beyond it, there was...nothing. Nothing and everything. Donna stepped to the edge of the doorway and looked out into the black.
It wasn't really black. It was black the same way that the wing of a raven was black, the same way that the pupils of someone's eyes were black, the same way that Death wears black robes. It was a black that led to all color, that contained all color and let it out in little flashes that might have been real but were probably just a trick of the light, if there'd been any.
In an abstract sort of way she knew there were stars in it, knew there were whole planets and solar systems and giant clouds of iridescent gas. But she knew it in the same way as when you look at at the face of a loved one and know that it's made up of atoms.
Her throat worked, but she had nothing to say, she had no idea how to even say anything. It was entirely silent here, as if words and sounds and screams and laughter were all just too small to matter, as if the noises it makes when a world turns was too small, as if the singing of the stars and of space itself was beneath its notice.
Silently, Donna began to cry.
The Doctor closed the door, and Donna sat down in the middle of the floor. "Beautiful." She finally said. "Horrible. Bloody great nothing of a place." She shuddered.
The Doctor nodded, and then, very slightly, smiled. "But it was silent."
Donna stared at him. "Yeah, it was at that." She held out a hand, and he pulled her to her feet. "Take me home?"