Missing Scenes From My Fics: Drabble Night with PS and Adri
Just a post of drabbles that I hadn't realized I hadn't posted yet!
Title: Exploring 1492
Missing Scene From: TARDIS 'Song Verse, almost immediately following Advent Point.
“Here's what you need to know, before you step out those doors,” the Doctor said, his hair hanging limply from the center of his forehead and his eyes as tired and empty as Nate had ever seen. “Things happen around me, and I can't help it. Sometimes, we get involved, if the time stream's not right, but sometimes... sometimes awful things just have to happen.”
Like Rose falling through a void, Nate thought, but didn't say anything. “Right, so, if you say not to interfere...”
“Then we don't. We get back in our TARDIS and we go on our merry way,” the Doctor said firmly. “Rule number one is this: You stick close. You don't go wandering off. Especially now.” His voice was soft. “Especially now, right?”
“Right. I'm not all that interested in exploring... where are we again?”
“1492.”
“I'm not interested in exploring 1492 at all.” Nate nodded his head. “We'll just pop in, get what we need and pop out.”
The Doctor smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Something like that. If only it were that simple. Well. It may be yet. So. Allons-y?”
“Yep. All...whatever.” Nate opened the door, and took a big deep breath, and then coughed. “Holy crap!”
“Oh yeah.” the Doctor grinned and bounced a little on his feet. “Sorry, forgot to mention. This time period doesn't smell all that great.”
“How is that not the first thing out of your mouth? I didn't even get a chance to prepare, man!” Nate covered his nose and looked down at the ground, trying to discover the source of the smell.
“Look up,” the Doctor said.
“What?”
“Look... oh, never mind.” The Doctor delicately side stepped as a window opened and the contents of a pot were tossed out on the street - and Nate. “You're going to want to go shower,” he said mildly, gesturing at the TARDIS.
Nate shook his hand off and glared at the Doctor. “Yeah. Yes I am.”
“Ha!” the Doctor laughed as they stepped back inside his ship. “I love the middle ages.”
**
Title: A Silly Little Baking Incident
Missing Scene From: A Silly Little Miscommunication... Jack bakes brownies.
Once in the kitchen, Jack surveyed the space he had to work with. In the corner was a rack of aprons, and he selected a white, lacy half-apron that tied around his waist. A recipe marked “Rose's Brownies” was in the middle of the counter, and Jack grinned. He gathered the necessary supplies, and with all the confidence of someone who could assemble a space-worthy engine from a microwave and a toaster, began to bake.
Sometime later, the apron caught fire, the eggs still hadn't managed to mix with the the sugar in any sort of cream, and the cocoa smelled off. Jack cursed and fanned and then tossed the apron off, trying to stomp the fire out.
“Jack!” Rose's voice from the doorway made him realize he was covered from head to toe in brownie batter, and still completely naked. He grinned and spread his legs.
“Rose.”
“What are you doing?”
“Making you brownies,” he said, and then his smile fell a bit. “Or, at least trying.”
“Can I just say,” Rose asked, walking over to him, her lips swaying a little, and her eyes filled with mischief, “that you look delicious?”
“Good enough to eat,” Jack said, and shivered as Rose's hand brushed over his thigh. “Don't you think?”
“Hmm, yes,” Rose muttered, and kissed his neck. “This is the kind of nudity I can handle and maybe even...” her hand went lower and lower, “...reward.”
Jack's eyes crossed as she began to get very clever. “So noted, and ah...”
“Jack?”
“Shut up.”
Jack gasped. “Yes, ma'am.”
**
Title: Three-Year-Olds Can't Keep Secrets
Missing Scene From: Eighty-Five Things, #23: Three-year-olds can't keep secrets.
There was an explosion. And not just an explosion. An earth-shaking, mind-blowing, ear-breaking KABOOM that shook the whole building, but did little actual damage, other than the fact that the Doctor's face was more than a little black, and the tip of his fringe was smoking.
“Ooooooh, Doctor!” Tony's jaw dropped. “You blew up the toaster!”
“I know, I know,” the Doctor said, batting at the small fire with a tea towel. “Get the fire extinguisher, yeah?”
“That was wicked!” Tony exclaimed. “Can we get mum's and do it there?”
The Doctor actually turned a bit white. “No. No blowing up toasters. Ever. Specially not your mum's. Just... no. As a matter of fact, if you could keep this to yourself, it would be much appreciated.”
As soon as the door to the flat opened that night, and Rose stepped inside, Tony ran to meet her. “You'll never guess what, Rose! The Doctor blew up the toaster!”
From the living room, Rose could hear the Doctor groan.
**
Title: Staying
Missing Scene From: Pre-Silver Dollar Paradigm. The aftermath of Doomsday.
The wailing, grinding, horrible sound of the Void sucking in, consuming all of the Daleks had come to complete and sudden stop. Rose fell limply off the lever and the Doctor stared at her, white-faced and silent.
“They're gone,” she said simply.
“Yeah.”
Rose stood up and walked over to the white wall that had once been a gate to Hell itself. “Mum. Will I... I mean...”
“The gates are closed,” the Doctor said bleakly. “No changing that. I'm sorry, Rose.”
She laid her hand against the wall and closed her eyes, silent for a few long minutes until she turned to face him, extending her hand until he took it. “It's okay, Doctor. You and me, we're going to be okay.”
Something inside of him snapped and he couldn't wait any longer. Her face was close to his anyway, and he brought his lips to hers, pressing them quickly together before he moved away, blushing. “Thank you. For staying.”
It might have been his imagination, but he thought her eyes were a little dazed. “You're welcome.”
**
Title: Instructions and Instincts
Missing Scene From: 85 Things... "The directions on the washing machine are there for a reason."
“Right.” The Doctor looked down at the mass of laundry in the basket and then back at the offending machine. “Used to pilot a TARDIS, me. I can conquer a twenty-first century washing machine.”
He remembered what Rose had told him: that he should sort the laundry first. But... according to what? Sorting it to types of fabric would mean all sorts of piles, as the different blends would require their own piles, and sorting it by the other things: size, purpose and color, made no sense.
Throwing caution to the wind, he sorted the laundry into piles based on which century the particular garment had come into popularity. It was as good a method as any. The origins of socks, for instance, were particularly ancient, as well as trousers, while the modern undergarment was more of a recent invention.
Satisfied, he tossed what he guessed to be an adequate amount of clothing into the barbaric device and studied the various options for soap. He noticed a measuring cup, but disregarded it, preferring to experiment until he found just the right blend. Surely all washing machines were different; required a different blend of softener and detergent for optimum performance, although other factors would be in play: the garments, the hard and softness of the water.... Happy he had stumbled upon a problem to solve, the Doctor poured what he guessed to be an adequate amount into the bowl, on top of the laundry. Then, noticing the large button marked “start”, he gleefully pressed it, and headed off to watch telly.
A few minutes later, the washer began to make a strange sound. A sort of whump-whump-whump that was nothing like the TARDIS and more like the sound of oncoming doom.
“Oh, sh--” Jumping to his feet, the Doctor almost got to the washing machine before it popped its lid, exploding into foam and water, and flooding the apartment.
“Oh, blimey.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is not going to go over well. Not well at all.”
Title: Exploring 1492
Missing Scene From: TARDIS 'Song Verse, almost immediately following Advent Point.
“Here's what you need to know, before you step out those doors,” the Doctor said, his hair hanging limply from the center of his forehead and his eyes as tired and empty as Nate had ever seen. “Things happen around me, and I can't help it. Sometimes, we get involved, if the time stream's not right, but sometimes... sometimes awful things just have to happen.”
Like Rose falling through a void, Nate thought, but didn't say anything. “Right, so, if you say not to interfere...”
“Then we don't. We get back in our TARDIS and we go on our merry way,” the Doctor said firmly. “Rule number one is this: You stick close. You don't go wandering off. Especially now.” His voice was soft. “Especially now, right?”
“Right. I'm not all that interested in exploring... where are we again?”
“1492.”
“I'm not interested in exploring 1492 at all.” Nate nodded his head. “We'll just pop in, get what we need and pop out.”
The Doctor smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Something like that. If only it were that simple. Well. It may be yet. So. Allons-y?”
“Yep. All...whatever.” Nate opened the door, and took a big deep breath, and then coughed. “Holy crap!”
“Oh yeah.” the Doctor grinned and bounced a little on his feet. “Sorry, forgot to mention. This time period doesn't smell all that great.”
“How is that not the first thing out of your mouth? I didn't even get a chance to prepare, man!” Nate covered his nose and looked down at the ground, trying to discover the source of the smell.
“Look up,” the Doctor said.
“What?”
“Look... oh, never mind.” The Doctor delicately side stepped as a window opened and the contents of a pot were tossed out on the street - and Nate. “You're going to want to go shower,” he said mildly, gesturing at the TARDIS.
Nate shook his hand off and glared at the Doctor. “Yeah. Yes I am.”
“Ha!” the Doctor laughed as they stepped back inside his ship. “I love the middle ages.”
**
Title: A Silly Little Baking Incident
Missing Scene From: A Silly Little Miscommunication... Jack bakes brownies.
Once in the kitchen, Jack surveyed the space he had to work with. In the corner was a rack of aprons, and he selected a white, lacy half-apron that tied around his waist. A recipe marked “Rose's Brownies” was in the middle of the counter, and Jack grinned. He gathered the necessary supplies, and with all the confidence of someone who could assemble a space-worthy engine from a microwave and a toaster, began to bake.
Sometime later, the apron caught fire, the eggs still hadn't managed to mix with the the sugar in any sort of cream, and the cocoa smelled off. Jack cursed and fanned and then tossed the apron off, trying to stomp the fire out.
“Jack!” Rose's voice from the doorway made him realize he was covered from head to toe in brownie batter, and still completely naked. He grinned and spread his legs.
“Rose.”
“What are you doing?”
“Making you brownies,” he said, and then his smile fell a bit. “Or, at least trying.”
“Can I just say,” Rose asked, walking over to him, her lips swaying a little, and her eyes filled with mischief, “that you look delicious?”
“Good enough to eat,” Jack said, and shivered as Rose's hand brushed over his thigh. “Don't you think?”
“Hmm, yes,” Rose muttered, and kissed his neck. “This is the kind of nudity I can handle and maybe even...” her hand went lower and lower, “...reward.”
Jack's eyes crossed as she began to get very clever. “So noted, and ah...”
“Jack?”
“Shut up.”
Jack gasped. “Yes, ma'am.”
**
Title: Three-Year-Olds Can't Keep Secrets
Missing Scene From: Eighty-Five Things, #23: Three-year-olds can't keep secrets.
There was an explosion. And not just an explosion. An earth-shaking, mind-blowing, ear-breaking KABOOM that shook the whole building, but did little actual damage, other than the fact that the Doctor's face was more than a little black, and the tip of his fringe was smoking.
“Ooooooh, Doctor!” Tony's jaw dropped. “You blew up the toaster!”
“I know, I know,” the Doctor said, batting at the small fire with a tea towel. “Get the fire extinguisher, yeah?”
“That was wicked!” Tony exclaimed. “Can we get mum's and do it there?”
The Doctor actually turned a bit white. “No. No blowing up toasters. Ever. Specially not your mum's. Just... no. As a matter of fact, if you could keep this to yourself, it would be much appreciated.”
As soon as the door to the flat opened that night, and Rose stepped inside, Tony ran to meet her. “You'll never guess what, Rose! The Doctor blew up the toaster!”
From the living room, Rose could hear the Doctor groan.
**
Title: Staying
Missing Scene From: Pre-Silver Dollar Paradigm. The aftermath of Doomsday.
The wailing, grinding, horrible sound of the Void sucking in, consuming all of the Daleks had come to complete and sudden stop. Rose fell limply off the lever and the Doctor stared at her, white-faced and silent.
“They're gone,” she said simply.
“Yeah.”
Rose stood up and walked over to the white wall that had once been a gate to Hell itself. “Mum. Will I... I mean...”
“The gates are closed,” the Doctor said bleakly. “No changing that. I'm sorry, Rose.”
She laid her hand against the wall and closed her eyes, silent for a few long minutes until she turned to face him, extending her hand until he took it. “It's okay, Doctor. You and me, we're going to be okay.”
Something inside of him snapped and he couldn't wait any longer. Her face was close to his anyway, and he brought his lips to hers, pressing them quickly together before he moved away, blushing. “Thank you. For staying.”
It might have been his imagination, but he thought her eyes were a little dazed. “You're welcome.”
**
Title: Instructions and Instincts
Missing Scene From: 85 Things... "The directions on the washing machine are there for a reason."
“Right.” The Doctor looked down at the mass of laundry in the basket and then back at the offending machine. “Used to pilot a TARDIS, me. I can conquer a twenty-first century washing machine.”
He remembered what Rose had told him: that he should sort the laundry first. But... according to what? Sorting it to types of fabric would mean all sorts of piles, as the different blends would require their own piles, and sorting it by the other things: size, purpose and color, made no sense.
Throwing caution to the wind, he sorted the laundry into piles based on which century the particular garment had come into popularity. It was as good a method as any. The origins of socks, for instance, were particularly ancient, as well as trousers, while the modern undergarment was more of a recent invention.
Satisfied, he tossed what he guessed to be an adequate amount of clothing into the barbaric device and studied the various options for soap. He noticed a measuring cup, but disregarded it, preferring to experiment until he found just the right blend. Surely all washing machines were different; required a different blend of softener and detergent for optimum performance, although other factors would be in play: the garments, the hard and softness of the water.... Happy he had stumbled upon a problem to solve, the Doctor poured what he guessed to be an adequate amount into the bowl, on top of the laundry. Then, noticing the large button marked “start”, he gleefully pressed it, and headed off to watch telly.
A few minutes later, the washer began to make a strange sound. A sort of whump-whump-whump that was nothing like the TARDIS and more like the sound of oncoming doom.
“Oh, sh--” Jumping to his feet, the Doctor almost got to the washing machine before it popped its lid, exploding into foam and water, and flooding the apartment.
“Oh, blimey.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is not going to go over well. Not well at all.”