Doctor Who Cliche-Swap Seven/Ace fic
Title: Match Point
Author: ghost2
Rating: PG
Word count: about 1600
Characters: Seven/Ace, the TARDIS
Summary: The TARDIS plays matchmaker for the Seventh Doctor and Ace.
A/N: Written for stars_fell for the Cliche-Swap Ficathon. This story is definitely on the cracky side of the fence. The cliche used was originally for Ten/Rose: The TARDIS plays matchmaker.
Thanks to Julie for looking this over for me.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
The TARDIS grumbled in agitation. Never before in her extended existence had she encountered such a dire situation that so desperately required her expert intervention. She simply couldn't continue to stand by and allow the greatest wrong ever to be perpetrated upon the universe.
Yes, the time had come. The TARDIS had to play matchmaker for the Doctor and Ace.
Quite simply, those two belonged together. They were perfect for each other, but too blind to see it. How many years had Ace been on board? How much longer would they dodge the issue? Well, the TARDIS concluded, she would just have to take matters into her own hands.
After much consideration, she developed what she felt was a diabolically clever scheme that was practically guaranteed to work. She launched step one of her plan and sat back to await the results.
The yelling started within the hour.
Ace stormed into the console room, clutching the TARDIS's gift in a hand that trembled not with joy, but with fury. She stomped to a halt in front of the Doctor and shook the beautiful bouquet of crimson roses in his face; petals showered to the floor at their feet. "Professor! What are these?"
The Doctor blinked. "Obviously they're flowers, Ace."
"Why'd you give them to me, then?"
"Me? I never did any such thing!"
Ace pulled a crumpled white card from her fist and smoothed it. "They were on my bed and this was with them. 'To Ace, love, the Doctor'," she read. "With a little heart at the bottom."
"That is not my handwriting," the Doctor responded, jabbing a finger at the card. "While I admit that most of it is a reasonable approximation, my D is far more distinctive."
"Oh." Ace deflated, though she gave the bouquet another half-hearted shake. "But if you didn't give me these things or write the note, then who did?"
"Think, Ace," the Doctor urged. "We're the only ones here, except, of course, for someone we often take for granted."
"The TARDIS," Ace concluded with a sigh. "But why would she do something ridiculous like this?"
The Doctor shrugged. "Who can tell? Why does she sometimes take us to places far from our requested destinations, or aimlessly drift in the vortex for days on end, or refuse to heat the swimming pool? She's eccentric."
"You mean insane? Because that's what it feels like to me. You're not the one who walked into her room and found flowers inside."
"No, because I walked into my room and found this." The Doctor held up a brown wallet.
"That's the most generic gift I've ever seen," said Ace.
"Yes, but I instantly knew it wasn't truly from you. Now, I'm sure the TARDIS's behaviour won't be repeated," the Doctor assured her.
The TARDIS cackled to herself. Her initial gifts had fulfilled the intended purpose. Now nothing would do but that she issue follow-up presents to both Ace and the Doctor, to prove her sincerity. She proceeded to do so the following morning.
Ace did not yell this time. Instead she rolled her eyes as she showed the Doctor the little green book she had found on her bedside table. "Love poems? Seriously? This is getting a little annoying."
The Doctor (who had just received a hideous striped tie) failed to disagree.
"Why is the TARDIS giving us presents from each other anyway?" Ace persisted.
The Doctor sighed. "I'm afraid she's matchmaking again."
Ace seized on the pertinent word. "What d'you mean, again?"
"She started to do it with Sarah Jane Smith and me once, but then I was called back to Gallifrey and Sarah went home, thus nipping the problem in the bud. She later tried again when Romana was on board. But that was centuries ago, and I thought she had got over such nonsense."
"Well, I'm not going home, so we can just do whatever you and that Romana did that second time," Ace decided.
The Doctor looked away. "I don't think you'll want to do it."
"Why not? It worked, didn't it?"
"Not exactly. In fact, you could say that in that case the TARDIS won, since Romana and I started a relationship."
Ace gaped for a moment, then snapped her mouth shut. "Oh. Well, that doesn't help me. Us."
"No, it doesn't."
Their conversation fizzled out, an awkward silence falling. The TARDIS pressed her advantage and quickly issued her third gifts. She knew she had chosen well when another confrontation ensued.
"Look!" Ace flung a filmy gown at the Doctor. "It's a dress this time. We have to make the TARDIS stop!"
"Yes," the Doctor acknowledged, eyeing the very white and very lacy gown with dismay, "things have got out of hand."
Ace kicked the nearest roundel, then winced and rubbed her foot. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time?" she snarled at the TARDIS.
No, the TARDIS thought indignantly, she most certainly did not. The union of the Doctor and Ace was her highest priority. Nothing else could ever be more important than their eternal happiness (which she would guarantee by somehow making Ace immortal and granting the Doctor unlimited regenerations). One day, Ace would thank her for her efforts. Just not today, apparently.
Ace whirled on the Doctor. "Can't you do something? Like fix the TARDIS?"
"I'll try my best." And the Doctor marched off to make such an attempt, an angry set to his shoulders.
Of course, his efforts were doomed to failure no matter how many times he jabbed his sonic screwdriver into uncomfortable portions of the TARDIS or muttered unkind words about her lineage. She wouldn't give in that easily.
Whilst he was trying, though, the Cybermen obliterated 95 species, civil war on the planet Adnos V erupted, and the Master stole the Crown Jewels, all because the Doctor wasn't there to rectify matters. Details, details, thought the TARDIS. Everyone had to make the occasional minor sacrifice for the greater good.
Nevertheless, she admitted it was time for her to change direction. Now the Doctor and Ace were aware of each other--more specifically, they were uncomfortably aware of each other. One last gentle nudge should do the trick.
The next time the Doctor programmed coordinates, the TARDIS ruthlessly overrode the instructions. It was for his and Ace's own good, and she felt no guilt. Old destination: London, 1984 (how boring). New destination: the much more exciting Oxtrica, otherwise known as the Wedding Planet of Quadrant 152'B. This was it: the supreme location; the ultimate goal; a "marry or die" planet.
So it was that after they materialised in a quarry carefully chosen by the TARDIS for its Earthlike appearance, it took Ace and the Doctor several minutes to realise they were not actually anywhere near London. It took them several more minutes to realise that the TARDIS was not where they had left her, but a pack of orange aliens wielding very pointy spears were there.
"Esteemed visitors," the leader greeted them, "you have two choices. Your first option is to die."
"Not the most appealing of possibilities," the Doctor noted. "What's our other choice?"
"Get married."
"Tough call," Ace muttered.
"Well," said the Doctor, "at least now we know why the TARDIS gave you that wedding gown the other day."
Ace glared at him. "Don't you have anything in your pockets that can help us?"
The Doctor obligingly reached inside a pocket; his hand emerged holding two wedding rings. "Ace, do you recall how I never before mentioned the third gift the TARDIS gave me?"
In the end, their preference to stay alive decided matters. The TARDIS (observing from a safe distance) was very pleased with herself as she watched the wedding ceremony. Despite Ace's swearing, it was beautiful and touching, and she was pleased to be a witness.
Disappointingly, though, the Doctor and Ace refused to attend the reception held in their own honour. As they trudged back towards the TARDIS, the Doctor turned to Ace. "Cheer up, it could have been worse."
"How?" she grumbled.
"The TARDIS could have taken us to a shag-or-die planet instead."
"You're not helping." As they neared the TARDIS, Ace slowed until she had quit moving altogether. "I'm not going back on board," she announced. And she refused to take another step, unless it was away from the TARDIS.
This reaction was not unanticipated. In fact, the TARDIS had been expecting it eventually, so she had a response prepared. It was finally time to leave the Doctor and Ace to their own devices. After a certain point, you just had to step back and let them go their own way (provided their likely direction appeared to be the one you had cunningly set up). As planned, the TARDIS opened a telepathic connection with the Doctor. He responded tentatively at first, then with more enthusiasm as she showed him that her machinations truly were at an end. There could be no doubting her absolute sincerity. She managed to convince even the sceptical Doctor, who after much cajoling and promises coaxed Ace back on board.
The TARDIS gave them (almost) no reason to doubt her word. She reverted to her old behaviour patterns. No more suggestive gifts or marry-or-die planets (though there was one shag-or-die planet along the way, but that really was an accident). And all the while, she waited and watched patiently.
Thus, six months later, when Ace had saved the Doctor from death by firing squad and they had spontaneously declared their undying love for each other, the TARDIS did not rub in her victory. She knew who truly deserved the credit, and that was good enough for her.
She hummed in contentment. Her work here was done.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Author: ghost2
Rating: PG
Word count: about 1600
Characters: Seven/Ace, the TARDIS
Summary: The TARDIS plays matchmaker for the Seventh Doctor and Ace.
A/N: Written for stars_fell for the Cliche-Swap Ficathon. This story is definitely on the cracky side of the fence. The cliche used was originally for Ten/Rose: The TARDIS plays matchmaker.
Thanks to Julie for looking this over for me.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
The TARDIS grumbled in agitation. Never before in her extended existence had she encountered such a dire situation that so desperately required her expert intervention. She simply couldn't continue to stand by and allow the greatest wrong ever to be perpetrated upon the universe.
Yes, the time had come. The TARDIS had to play matchmaker for the Doctor and Ace.
Quite simply, those two belonged together. They were perfect for each other, but too blind to see it. How many years had Ace been on board? How much longer would they dodge the issue? Well, the TARDIS concluded, she would just have to take matters into her own hands.
After much consideration, she developed what she felt was a diabolically clever scheme that was practically guaranteed to work. She launched step one of her plan and sat back to await the results.
The yelling started within the hour.
Ace stormed into the console room, clutching the TARDIS's gift in a hand that trembled not with joy, but with fury. She stomped to a halt in front of the Doctor and shook the beautiful bouquet of crimson roses in his face; petals showered to the floor at their feet. "Professor! What are these?"
The Doctor blinked. "Obviously they're flowers, Ace."
"Why'd you give them to me, then?"
"Me? I never did any such thing!"
Ace pulled a crumpled white card from her fist and smoothed it. "They were on my bed and this was with them. 'To Ace, love, the Doctor'," she read. "With a little heart at the bottom."
"That is not my handwriting," the Doctor responded, jabbing a finger at the card. "While I admit that most of it is a reasonable approximation, my D is far more distinctive."
"Oh." Ace deflated, though she gave the bouquet another half-hearted shake. "But if you didn't give me these things or write the note, then who did?"
"Think, Ace," the Doctor urged. "We're the only ones here, except, of course, for someone we often take for granted."
"The TARDIS," Ace concluded with a sigh. "But why would she do something ridiculous like this?"
The Doctor shrugged. "Who can tell? Why does she sometimes take us to places far from our requested destinations, or aimlessly drift in the vortex for days on end, or refuse to heat the swimming pool? She's eccentric."
"You mean insane? Because that's what it feels like to me. You're not the one who walked into her room and found flowers inside."
"No, because I walked into my room and found this." The Doctor held up a brown wallet.
"That's the most generic gift I've ever seen," said Ace.
"Yes, but I instantly knew it wasn't truly from you. Now, I'm sure the TARDIS's behaviour won't be repeated," the Doctor assured her.
The TARDIS cackled to herself. Her initial gifts had fulfilled the intended purpose. Now nothing would do but that she issue follow-up presents to both Ace and the Doctor, to prove her sincerity. She proceeded to do so the following morning.
Ace did not yell this time. Instead she rolled her eyes as she showed the Doctor the little green book she had found on her bedside table. "Love poems? Seriously? This is getting a little annoying."
The Doctor (who had just received a hideous striped tie) failed to disagree.
"Why is the TARDIS giving us presents from each other anyway?" Ace persisted.
The Doctor sighed. "I'm afraid she's matchmaking again."
Ace seized on the pertinent word. "What d'you mean, again?"
"She started to do it with Sarah Jane Smith and me once, but then I was called back to Gallifrey and Sarah went home, thus nipping the problem in the bud. She later tried again when Romana was on board. But that was centuries ago, and I thought she had got over such nonsense."
"Well, I'm not going home, so we can just do whatever you and that Romana did that second time," Ace decided.
The Doctor looked away. "I don't think you'll want to do it."
"Why not? It worked, didn't it?"
"Not exactly. In fact, you could say that in that case the TARDIS won, since Romana and I started a relationship."
Ace gaped for a moment, then snapped her mouth shut. "Oh. Well, that doesn't help me. Us."
"No, it doesn't."
Their conversation fizzled out, an awkward silence falling. The TARDIS pressed her advantage and quickly issued her third gifts. She knew she had chosen well when another confrontation ensued.
"Look!" Ace flung a filmy gown at the Doctor. "It's a dress this time. We have to make the TARDIS stop!"
"Yes," the Doctor acknowledged, eyeing the very white and very lacy gown with dismay, "things have got out of hand."
Ace kicked the nearest roundel, then winced and rubbed her foot. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time?" she snarled at the TARDIS.
No, the TARDIS thought indignantly, she most certainly did not. The union of the Doctor and Ace was her highest priority. Nothing else could ever be more important than their eternal happiness (which she would guarantee by somehow making Ace immortal and granting the Doctor unlimited regenerations). One day, Ace would thank her for her efforts. Just not today, apparently.
Ace whirled on the Doctor. "Can't you do something? Like fix the TARDIS?"
"I'll try my best." And the Doctor marched off to make such an attempt, an angry set to his shoulders.
Of course, his efforts were doomed to failure no matter how many times he jabbed his sonic screwdriver into uncomfortable portions of the TARDIS or muttered unkind words about her lineage. She wouldn't give in that easily.
Whilst he was trying, though, the Cybermen obliterated 95 species, civil war on the planet Adnos V erupted, and the Master stole the Crown Jewels, all because the Doctor wasn't there to rectify matters. Details, details, thought the TARDIS. Everyone had to make the occasional minor sacrifice for the greater good.
Nevertheless, she admitted it was time for her to change direction. Now the Doctor and Ace were aware of each other--more specifically, they were uncomfortably aware of each other. One last gentle nudge should do the trick.
The next time the Doctor programmed coordinates, the TARDIS ruthlessly overrode the instructions. It was for his and Ace's own good, and she felt no guilt. Old destination: London, 1984 (how boring). New destination: the much more exciting Oxtrica, otherwise known as the Wedding Planet of Quadrant 152'B. This was it: the supreme location; the ultimate goal; a "marry or die" planet.
So it was that after they materialised in a quarry carefully chosen by the TARDIS for its Earthlike appearance, it took Ace and the Doctor several minutes to realise they were not actually anywhere near London. It took them several more minutes to realise that the TARDIS was not where they had left her, but a pack of orange aliens wielding very pointy spears were there.
"Esteemed visitors," the leader greeted them, "you have two choices. Your first option is to die."
"Not the most appealing of possibilities," the Doctor noted. "What's our other choice?"
"Get married."
"Tough call," Ace muttered.
"Well," said the Doctor, "at least now we know why the TARDIS gave you that wedding gown the other day."
Ace glared at him. "Don't you have anything in your pockets that can help us?"
The Doctor obligingly reached inside a pocket; his hand emerged holding two wedding rings. "Ace, do you recall how I never before mentioned the third gift the TARDIS gave me?"
In the end, their preference to stay alive decided matters. The TARDIS (observing from a safe distance) was very pleased with herself as she watched the wedding ceremony. Despite Ace's swearing, it was beautiful and touching, and she was pleased to be a witness.
Disappointingly, though, the Doctor and Ace refused to attend the reception held in their own honour. As they trudged back towards the TARDIS, the Doctor turned to Ace. "Cheer up, it could have been worse."
"How?" she grumbled.
"The TARDIS could have taken us to a shag-or-die planet instead."
"You're not helping." As they neared the TARDIS, Ace slowed until she had quit moving altogether. "I'm not going back on board," she announced. And she refused to take another step, unless it was away from the TARDIS.
This reaction was not unanticipated. In fact, the TARDIS had been expecting it eventually, so she had a response prepared. It was finally time to leave the Doctor and Ace to their own devices. After a certain point, you just had to step back and let them go their own way (provided their likely direction appeared to be the one you had cunningly set up). As planned, the TARDIS opened a telepathic connection with the Doctor. He responded tentatively at first, then with more enthusiasm as she showed him that her machinations truly were at an end. There could be no doubting her absolute sincerity. She managed to convince even the sceptical Doctor, who after much cajoling and promises coaxed Ace back on board.
The TARDIS gave them (almost) no reason to doubt her word. She reverted to her old behaviour patterns. No more suggestive gifts or marry-or-die planets (though there was one shag-or-die planet along the way, but that really was an accident). And all the while, she waited and watched patiently.
Thus, six months later, when Ace had saved the Doctor from death by firing squad and they had spontaneously declared their undying love for each other, the TARDIS did not rub in her victory. She knew who truly deserved the credit, and that was good enough for her.
She hummed in contentment. Her work here was done.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥