Fic: It'll Do You Good
It'll Do You Good
by me, doctorpancakes
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Sixth Doctor, Mel Bush, Frobisher
Rating: PG
Word Count: 533
Warnings: very silly
Author's Note: Written in between job applications at the Costa in Lowry Outlet Mall for sixathon, for which aralias wanted to see some Six and Mel and Frobisher fun times.
“How much longer?” demanded the Doctor, his muscles straining, face contorted into a grimace of unimaginable pain.
“Two more breaths, Doctor,” replied Mel, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. Virabhadrasana’s one of the gentler poses! If you want, you can put your arms down.”
“Well, thank you very much, Mel,” the Doctor grumped, setting his arms down at his sides with a heavy shrug. “I thought you said yoga was meant to be relaxing.”
“It is!” protested Mel. “You need to focus on your breathing as you relax into each pose, feel the lengthening of the spine and your muscles working.”
“Trust me,” moaned the Doctor, “I can feel everything quite acutely.”
“Good,” replied Mel, with an unflappably cheery grin in spite of her decidedly uncooperative partner. “Now, step your right foot forward and extend back into Tadasana, and take a deep breath, iiiiiiin, and ouuuuuuut, and another, iiiiiin, and ouuuuuuuuut.”
“You don’t see me complaining,” said Frobisher, ruffling his smooth plumage as he stretched his flippers outwards.
“That’s because you’re cheating,” declared the Doctor. “A real penguin would never have been able to fold themselves into... upside down puppydog pose.”
“It’s downward dog, Doc, and I’m just making full use of my natural physical abilities,” argued Frobisher. “You oughtta try it sometime!”
“Boys,” cautioned Mel, chuckling in spite of herself. “Arms in the air, standing forward bend. And exhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaale as you bend forward.”
Mel loved when Frobisher travelled with them, even if it felt at times like supervising a pair of unruly children. At least Frobisher was surprisingly gung ho about Mel’s efforts at whipping the TARDIS crew into shape, especially if she pureed a few herring into his wheatgrass afterwards. The Doctor, however, raged against any and every form of exercise with what seemed to be an incredibly silly insistence. A healthy body makes for a healthy mind, Mel would tell him, for all the good it did. He was terribly stubborn at times, the Doctor.
“Oof!” the Doctor strained. “Now this is just downright undignified.”
“Don’t be such a party pooper, Doc,” admonished Frobisher, reaching down to the tippy-toes of his feet with surprising flexibility. Did flippy penguin feet have toes? Mel was not entirely sure what to call them. Toes would do.
“Try and unbend your knees, Doctor - no, don’t stand up, unbend,” sighed Mel. “Just try and un - oh, good enough. Four breaths in this pose, then we’ll go back to the floor.”
“Sitting down?” asked the Doctor, seeming to perk up at the prospect of something even less strenuous than the gentlest form of yoga that Mel could think of.
“We’ll be doing a sequence of spinal twists,” elaborated Mel, “and I promise there’s a carob and avocado mousse in it for you when we’re done. And... breathe.”
“Oh goody,” said the Doctor, dripping with so much sarcasm that Mel swore she could see a pool of it forming on the floor.
“It’s nature’s chocolate!” she replied.
“Mel,” sighed the Doctor, “chocolate is nature’s chocolate.”
“You’re incorrigible,” she giggled. “How about you, Frobisher?”
“Garnish it with a coupla mackerel and I’m game,” he replied, with a shrug of his wings.
by me, doctorpancakes
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Sixth Doctor, Mel Bush, Frobisher
Rating: PG
Word Count: 533
Warnings: very silly
Author's Note: Written in between job applications at the Costa in Lowry Outlet Mall for sixathon, for which aralias wanted to see some Six and Mel and Frobisher fun times.
“How much longer?” demanded the Doctor, his muscles straining, face contorted into a grimace of unimaginable pain.
“Two more breaths, Doctor,” replied Mel, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. Virabhadrasana’s one of the gentler poses! If you want, you can put your arms down.”
“Well, thank you very much, Mel,” the Doctor grumped, setting his arms down at his sides with a heavy shrug. “I thought you said yoga was meant to be relaxing.”
“It is!” protested Mel. “You need to focus on your breathing as you relax into each pose, feel the lengthening of the spine and your muscles working.”
“Trust me,” moaned the Doctor, “I can feel everything quite acutely.”
“Good,” replied Mel, with an unflappably cheery grin in spite of her decidedly uncooperative partner. “Now, step your right foot forward and extend back into Tadasana, and take a deep breath, iiiiiiin, and ouuuuuuut, and another, iiiiiin, and ouuuuuuuuut.”
“You don’t see me complaining,” said Frobisher, ruffling his smooth plumage as he stretched his flippers outwards.
“That’s because you’re cheating,” declared the Doctor. “A real penguin would never have been able to fold themselves into... upside down puppydog pose.”
“It’s downward dog, Doc, and I’m just making full use of my natural physical abilities,” argued Frobisher. “You oughtta try it sometime!”
“Boys,” cautioned Mel, chuckling in spite of herself. “Arms in the air, standing forward bend. And exhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaale as you bend forward.”
Mel loved when Frobisher travelled with them, even if it felt at times like supervising a pair of unruly children. At least Frobisher was surprisingly gung ho about Mel’s efforts at whipping the TARDIS crew into shape, especially if she pureed a few herring into his wheatgrass afterwards. The Doctor, however, raged against any and every form of exercise with what seemed to be an incredibly silly insistence. A healthy body makes for a healthy mind, Mel would tell him, for all the good it did. He was terribly stubborn at times, the Doctor.
“Oof!” the Doctor strained. “Now this is just downright undignified.”
“Don’t be such a party pooper, Doc,” admonished Frobisher, reaching down to the tippy-toes of his feet with surprising flexibility. Did flippy penguin feet have toes? Mel was not entirely sure what to call them. Toes would do.
“Try and unbend your knees, Doctor - no, don’t stand up, unbend,” sighed Mel. “Just try and un - oh, good enough. Four breaths in this pose, then we’ll go back to the floor.”
“Sitting down?” asked the Doctor, seeming to perk up at the prospect of something even less strenuous than the gentlest form of yoga that Mel could think of.
“We’ll be doing a sequence of spinal twists,” elaborated Mel, “and I promise there’s a carob and avocado mousse in it for you when we’re done. And... breathe.”
“Oh goody,” said the Doctor, dripping with so much sarcasm that Mel swore she could see a pool of it forming on the floor.
“It’s nature’s chocolate!” she replied.
“Mel,” sighed the Doctor, “chocolate is nature’s chocolate.”
“You’re incorrigible,” she giggled. “How about you, Frobisher?”
“Garnish it with a coupla mackerel and I’m game,” he replied, with a shrug of his wings.