Harmony; Glee/Doctor Who Crossover Chapter 1/17
Title: Harmony
Fandom: Glee/Doctor Who crossover
Character(s)/Pairing(s): The Tenth Doctor, Quinn Fabray
Disclaimer: I will not own any of these characters until I create my own TARDIS. Then look out, copyright holders!
Rating: PG.
Word Count: 1,216.
Summary: The Doctor and the TARDIS end up stuck in Lima, unable to re-enter the Time Vortex. Stuck on the slow path, he tries to figure out what's happening, posing as McKinley's janitor by night and co-director of the glee club by day.
Spoiler(s)/Warning(s): Through season 1 of Glee, and through The End of Time for Dr. Who. Takes place between Martha leaving and Donna's return.
Author Notes: I posted this at FF.net a while back and was hoping to get it exposed to a wider audience. I had a few regular readers but then all the interest dropped off towards the end and I became paranoid that it was just really poorly written at the finish. Hope you enjoy!
Andy Malone hadn't made the best decisions in his life, as he would be the first to admit. He made no attempts to beat around the bush; night janitor at a high school in Lima, Ohio wasn't the height of his career aspiration but it was as far as his limited education and lack of skills would take him. Hitchhiking the entire width of the United States and then again from Canada to Mexico right out of high school had seemed like a great idea and a good way to transition into an eventual career as a writer. But nobody was interested in the stories of an aimless wanderer, and nobody was willing to hire an applicant whose main qualification was standing on street corners or dirt roads with his thumb sticking out. Well, at least no place you could afford a Mercedes on. But at least he had the job here at McKinley, and that at least was something.
He was starting another evening shift, exactly the way they always started. Another ordinary, dull night in Ohio, whiled away mopping, sweeping, and sanitizing. Sometimes it was easy to think of himself as a failure. But other times he had a sense that he was just waiting for something greater, grander, and more important. But perhaps those were just the crazy dreams of a man who felt he hadn't made a mark on the world around him.
He started mopping around the front entrance to the school. An immaculate banker's box sat outside Emma Pillsbury's office, tied perfectly with twine and labeled in impossibly neat writing, "Pamphlets - Dealing with Pet Suicide." Attached was a note:
Andy,
Would you be a dear and store these in the basement for me? I'd do it myself but I'm still recovering from the Spider Incident of 2009.
-Emma
He smiled. It wasn't really in his job description to take care of these things for the teachers and staff, but Emma was always kind to him despite his lowly position, and he was highly appreciative of that. Plus it was just a small box; it wouldn't take that much time out of his life.
He never, ever went to the basement. It was basically just storage space, after all; there wasn't much call to clean up down here. It was dark, musty, and the whole place smelt of decayed fabrics and mildewed carpeting swatches. Amid all the boxes and rolls of old carpet were various decorative pieces and odds and ends that nobody wanted to throw away; half of Prospero's boat from the drama club's rendition of The Tempest, a Santa in his sleigh waiting to be set up next to the Star of David for the Holidays of the World display, a large dragon costume for Chinese New Year, and half of the statue of Sue Sylvester that Sue herself had commissioned before Figgins told her that was an inappropriate use of the school's budget.
But tonight there was also something new - sounds coming from behind the locked set of double doors across from the stairs. Whatever it was, it was loud, and it sounded vague lyrical. "niiiiiiiiiiiiiiie. niiiiiiiiiiiiiiie." It was the same sound over and over again with a second of silence between each repetition. Listening more closely, he could hear the pitch waver ever so slightly each time.
He set the box down, then knocked on the door. "Hello?" instantly, the whole place was silent. He knocked again. "I heard you a moment ago," he said. "There's no use hiding."
"A pity," a voice said. It was deep, menacing, and it had a hint of mechanization behind it. He heard movement, and turned around slowly to see what it was. There didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary there. That is, not until the dragon moved its head to stare directly at him. He tried to say something but his breath caught in his throat. The voice was coming from the dragon.
"State tonal range," it said.
"Sorry, I... What?" he said.
"Uncooperative. Manual identification."
The dragon reared up and started to crawl on metal spindly legs. It really shouldn't have had those. The thing that had up until recently been a harmless decoration sat up like a cobra. Andy put his hands up in an attempt at a peaceful gesture. The thing raised one spindly little arm, pointed it at his face, and reared back. He shut his eyes and then he felt it hit him... right in the shoulder. "Aaaaaaauuuuuugh!" he said, looking down at the tiny puncture then back at the dragon. "That stings!" he said.
"Unusable," the dragon said, and retreated back to its place in one of the boxes.
"That's it?"
"That's it," a deeper voice said from behind the door. "We don't need that frequency."
"Uhhhhh..." he said as the door opened.
"Now all we need is dinner."
And Andy was pulled in through the door. It closed behind him with a definitive sounding slam, but it didn't quite drown out his second, much louder scream. A tragedy, really, because there was nobody there to hear it.
***
The Doctor took off the bowtie from around his neck where it had hung limply for the past few hours, long ago untied and dissheveled along with the rest of his tuxedo. Only the white trainers he always wore were relatively untouched. He threw the tie on the console, brushed the last of the Titanic salvage's ballast from his hair and coat, and hung it on the hat rack by the TARDIS' front door. He leaned against the console, trying to decide where to go next. Somewhere simple, somewhere safe, where he wouldn't be able to cause any trouble.
But if you could choose, Doctor, if you could decide who lives and who dies, then that would make you a monster.
Mr. Copper's words echoed in his mind. As he was starting to think more and more often, maybe a Time Lord really did live too long, because it was getting harder and harder to accept that he couldn't be responsible for everyone. He couldn't depose every power-hungry leader, or save every planet from every threat that came along. He couldn't protect every innocent life... but he was starting to believe that he could. That he should be able to.
The truth was that the Doctor's life was a series of painful losses, with him always sacrificing the people and things he loved because of the evil (or just the foolishness) of others. Gallifrey, his home planet... An entire world locked away, his home gone forever because of Rassilon's desire to save his people at the expense of the universe. And then there had been Rose. Especially Rose... two universes saved from Daleks, Cybermen, and total collapse, all because of the foolish pride and ambition of the Torchwood Institute. At least Martha had been smart. Martha got out while she still could. But he couldn't give in to these feelings. He had to keep fighting, had to keep believing.
He stopped and looked around the console room, a very familiar melody suddenly running through his mind. He was about to play it through the TARDIS' sound system, when he thought better of it. Some things just had to be experienced live.
Fandom: Glee/Doctor Who crossover
Character(s)/Pairing(s): The Tenth Doctor, Quinn Fabray
Disclaimer: I will not own any of these characters until I create my own TARDIS. Then look out, copyright holders!
Rating: PG.
Word Count: 1,216.
Summary: The Doctor and the TARDIS end up stuck in Lima, unable to re-enter the Time Vortex. Stuck on the slow path, he tries to figure out what's happening, posing as McKinley's janitor by night and co-director of the glee club by day.
Spoiler(s)/Warning(s): Through season 1 of Glee, and through The End of Time for Dr. Who. Takes place between Martha leaving and Donna's return.
Author Notes: I posted this at FF.net a while back and was hoping to get it exposed to a wider audience. I had a few regular readers but then all the interest dropped off towards the end and I became paranoid that it was just really poorly written at the finish. Hope you enjoy!
Andy Malone hadn't made the best decisions in his life, as he would be the first to admit. He made no attempts to beat around the bush; night janitor at a high school in Lima, Ohio wasn't the height of his career aspiration but it was as far as his limited education and lack of skills would take him. Hitchhiking the entire width of the United States and then again from Canada to Mexico right out of high school had seemed like a great idea and a good way to transition into an eventual career as a writer. But nobody was interested in the stories of an aimless wanderer, and nobody was willing to hire an applicant whose main qualification was standing on street corners or dirt roads with his thumb sticking out. Well, at least no place you could afford a Mercedes on. But at least he had the job here at McKinley, and that at least was something.
He was starting another evening shift, exactly the way they always started. Another ordinary, dull night in Ohio, whiled away mopping, sweeping, and sanitizing. Sometimes it was easy to think of himself as a failure. But other times he had a sense that he was just waiting for something greater, grander, and more important. But perhaps those were just the crazy dreams of a man who felt he hadn't made a mark on the world around him.
He started mopping around the front entrance to the school. An immaculate banker's box sat outside Emma Pillsbury's office, tied perfectly with twine and labeled in impossibly neat writing, "Pamphlets - Dealing with Pet Suicide." Attached was a note:
Andy,
Would you be a dear and store these in the basement for me? I'd do it myself but I'm still recovering from the Spider Incident of 2009.
-Emma
He smiled. It wasn't really in his job description to take care of these things for the teachers and staff, but Emma was always kind to him despite his lowly position, and he was highly appreciative of that. Plus it was just a small box; it wouldn't take that much time out of his life.
He never, ever went to the basement. It was basically just storage space, after all; there wasn't much call to clean up down here. It was dark, musty, and the whole place smelt of decayed fabrics and mildewed carpeting swatches. Amid all the boxes and rolls of old carpet were various decorative pieces and odds and ends that nobody wanted to throw away; half of Prospero's boat from the drama club's rendition of The Tempest, a Santa in his sleigh waiting to be set up next to the Star of David for the Holidays of the World display, a large dragon costume for Chinese New Year, and half of the statue of Sue Sylvester that Sue herself had commissioned before Figgins told her that was an inappropriate use of the school's budget.
But tonight there was also something new - sounds coming from behind the locked set of double doors across from the stairs. Whatever it was, it was loud, and it sounded vague lyrical. "niiiiiiiiiiiiiiie. niiiiiiiiiiiiiiie." It was the same sound over and over again with a second of silence between each repetition. Listening more closely, he could hear the pitch waver ever so slightly each time.
He set the box down, then knocked on the door. "Hello?" instantly, the whole place was silent. He knocked again. "I heard you a moment ago," he said. "There's no use hiding."
"A pity," a voice said. It was deep, menacing, and it had a hint of mechanization behind it. He heard movement, and turned around slowly to see what it was. There didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary there. That is, not until the dragon moved its head to stare directly at him. He tried to say something but his breath caught in his throat. The voice was coming from the dragon.
"State tonal range," it said.
"Sorry, I... What?" he said.
"Uncooperative. Manual identification."
The dragon reared up and started to crawl on metal spindly legs. It really shouldn't have had those. The thing that had up until recently been a harmless decoration sat up like a cobra. Andy put his hands up in an attempt at a peaceful gesture. The thing raised one spindly little arm, pointed it at his face, and reared back. He shut his eyes and then he felt it hit him... right in the shoulder. "Aaaaaaauuuuuugh!" he said, looking down at the tiny puncture then back at the dragon. "That stings!" he said.
"Unusable," the dragon said, and retreated back to its place in one of the boxes.
"That's it?"
"That's it," a deeper voice said from behind the door. "We don't need that frequency."
"Uhhhhh..." he said as the door opened.
"Now all we need is dinner."
And Andy was pulled in through the door. It closed behind him with a definitive sounding slam, but it didn't quite drown out his second, much louder scream. A tragedy, really, because there was nobody there to hear it.
***
The Doctor took off the bowtie from around his neck where it had hung limply for the past few hours, long ago untied and dissheveled along with the rest of his tuxedo. Only the white trainers he always wore were relatively untouched. He threw the tie on the console, brushed the last of the Titanic salvage's ballast from his hair and coat, and hung it on the hat rack by the TARDIS' front door. He leaned against the console, trying to decide where to go next. Somewhere simple, somewhere safe, where he wouldn't be able to cause any trouble.
But if you could choose, Doctor, if you could decide who lives and who dies, then that would make you a monster.
Mr. Copper's words echoed in his mind. As he was starting to think more and more often, maybe a Time Lord really did live too long, because it was getting harder and harder to accept that he couldn't be responsible for everyone. He couldn't depose every power-hungry leader, or save every planet from every threat that came along. He couldn't protect every innocent life... but he was starting to believe that he could. That he should be able to.
The truth was that the Doctor's life was a series of painful losses, with him always sacrificing the people and things he loved because of the evil (or just the foolishness) of others. Gallifrey, his home planet... An entire world locked away, his home gone forever because of Rassilon's desire to save his people at the expense of the universe. And then there had been Rose. Especially Rose... two universes saved from Daleks, Cybermen, and total collapse, all because of the foolish pride and ambition of the Torchwood Institute. At least Martha had been smart. Martha got out while she still could. But he couldn't give in to these feelings. He had to keep fighting, had to keep believing.
He stopped and looked around the console room, a very familiar melody suddenly running through his mind. He was about to play it through the TARDIS' sound system, when he thought better of it. Some things just had to be experienced live.