Too Old For Neverland
Title: Too Old For Neverland
Author: ladygray99
Fandom: Numb3rs/Doctor Who
Rating: G
Prompt: #487 Yard, #371 Need, #485 Lure, #454 New, #414 Rush, #490 Separate, #291 Dream, #365 Rest, #408 Twist, #468 Ache, #77 Wife
Characters/Pairings: Charlie, Twelve, Clara, Amita
Word count: 11x100
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Summary: Charlie is too old to help deal with zombie aliens but that's not what the Doctor is looking for.
Notes: Written for numb3rs100. Takes place after An Ancient Sound but reading that one is not nessasary.
Beta: none.
Too Old For Neverland
Too Old For Neverland (#487 Yard)
Charlie was awakened from his nap by the TARDIS humming in his backyard.
He wondered if this is how Wendy would have felt if Peter Pan had knocked on her bedroom window when she was old and grey. Not that Charlie was old, not really, not yet.
Amita was at a conference by herself. That happened more often since the kids had grown and moved out. He supposed it was something they should deal with soon. There was a knock on the kitchen door. Charlie went to tell the madman in the blue box he was too old for Neverland.
No (#371 Need)
"Hello, Charlie."
Charlie peered around the man at his door to see if there was anyone else. The TARDIS was there, her doors open, but no one else emerged. He looked closely at the face in front of him so much older than the last face he knew, possibly older than the last two combined. But he could already feel the TARDIS in his mind, soothing him.
"Doctor."
"Ah, good, got the right person. Not so good with names and faces these days. Or people really. Or things, or dates. But no matter, I need you."
"The answer is no."
Irresistible Offer (#485 Lure)
The Doctor brushed past Charlie and started rummaging through his fridge. "Of all the creatures in the universe milk has to come from a cow. Milk and coffee. No coffee doesn't come from cows." He pulled himself from the fridge. "Does it?"
"No," Charlie sighed. "And the answer is still no. I've gotten old. Too old to be running around after zombie aliens."
"You haven't gotten old. I've gotten old."
"You were always old."
"Doesn't matter. No zombie aliens. Don't need that kind of help." The Doctor held out a piece of chalk. "I need some help with my math."
Redecorating (#454 New)
Each time Charlie stepped into the TARDIS it had been different, especially the smell. The first time was almost overpowering; burnt circuit boards, fried electronics, and perhaps a cup of coffee that had been left a bit too long. The second time it was fresh and new the smell of clean copper, like a wet penny or spilled blood. This time it smelled of chalk.
Charlie spun around. Books and chalkboards where before there had been empty panels. It was beautiful. "You redecorated."
"Yeah, thought I should."
"I like it."
"Really?"
Charlie took a deep breath. "Yeah, I really do."
Elegant Yet Complex (#414 Rush)
Charlie stroked his hand along the controls of the TARDIS as he made for the largest chalkboard. It was covered in the circular language of the Time Lords.
"So… What problem are we trying to solve?"
"It's a little tricky to explain."
"Well I can't work on a problem if I don't know what it is so you'll have to try your best."
The Doctor pressed a finger to his forehead. The universe, all of space and time, thousands of years of memories, and an elegant yet frightfully complex problem rushed through his brain in the space of a breath.
Bits and Pieces (#490 Separate)
Charlie knew he could never solve the Doctor's problem, not if he regenerated himself a dozen times and worked on nothing else.
But bits, yes there were bits, a basic phrase here, a simple proof there. Like picking at a knot with his fingernails. If he picked at it long enough he might just find the end of the bit of string. No not and ending place, a starting place.
A piece of chalk was placed in his hand and he was place before an empty chalk board. He took a breath, let the TARDIS into his mind, and began.
The Problem (#291 Dream)
Charlie's body succumb to sleep for the second or maybe third time but even in his dreams the Problem and the sweet song of the TARDIS swam through his mind. He wished he could blend the two for the beauty it would create. The elegant beauty.
Charlie woke to a cup of milky tea held under his nose by a sweet faced young woman. He wrapped his hands around the warmth, they were beginning to cramp.
"Apparently the Doctor doesn't like skim milk in his tea so he popped around to mine."
"My wife is trying to keep me healthy."
A Part Time Doctor (#365 Rest)
Charlie accepted a donut from Clara to go with the tea.
"So I take it you've run with the Doctor before?" she asked.
"Run is the key word." The donut was jam filled. "I guess you're his new… traveling companion?"
Clara snorted. "The last one's, maybe. This one, he's what I do on weekends or after work. He does have a bad habit of interrupting good dates."
"A part time Doctor. That's smart. Did the last one have a bowtie or have I missed a few again?"
"Bowtie, a fetish for stupid hats, and self-inflicted ADD?"
"Yeah, that was him."
Tea (#408 Twist)
"Oi! You two, stop gossiping, nap time's over, back to work." The Doctor yelled across the control room.
"It's only work if you pay him." Clara yelled back. "Are you paying him?"
"I don't know."
Charlie pried himself up. "He's not. It's okay. For this I'd have to up my consulting fees quite a lot." Charlie took another sip of his tea, his milky, sweet, and bitter tea. Three tastes, twisting into one, brought on by the swirl of the spoon and the heat of the water.
Charlie blinked.
"Doctor, I think I have an idea. Or maybe an answer."
Post TARDIS Hangover (#468 Ache)
Charlie didn't sleep. Not for a day and a night, or whatever the equivalent on the TARDIS was. She understood what he was thinking and began to sing in his head. The chalk vanished in his hand and was quickly replaced. Stick after stick, covering boards and crawling down across the floor.
He started inventing notation; alien letters to represent a hundred lines of equations.
Finally he fell. His not as young body giving out as if it had been running for its life from zombie aliens.
He woke in his own bed, his head pounding with a TARDIS hangover.
Tea and Bagels (#77 Wife)
In the kitchen Clara and Amita were sipping tea and eating bagels. Amita must have brought them back from New York. Or the Doctor picked them up somewhere and they were special space bagels. Charlie couldn't remember the last time he ate.
Amita saw him, got up, and gave him a sweet kiss.
"The Doctor is offering to take us to the best deli in the 37th century as a thank you."
"How many months do you think we'll be gone?" Charlie mused.
Amita smiled "We could make it a second honeymoon?"
"Good idea. But let's avoid the zombie aliens."
Author: ladygray99
Fandom: Numb3rs/Doctor Who
Rating: G
Prompt: #487 Yard, #371 Need, #485 Lure, #454 New, #414 Rush, #490 Separate, #291 Dream, #365 Rest, #408 Twist, #468 Ache, #77 Wife
Characters/Pairings: Charlie, Twelve, Clara, Amita
Word count: 11x100
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Summary: Charlie is too old to help deal with zombie aliens but that's not what the Doctor is looking for.
Notes: Written for numb3rs100. Takes place after An Ancient Sound but reading that one is not nessasary.
Beta: none.
Too Old For Neverland
Too Old For Neverland (#487 Yard)
Charlie was awakened from his nap by the TARDIS humming in his backyard.
He wondered if this is how Wendy would have felt if Peter Pan had knocked on her bedroom window when she was old and grey. Not that Charlie was old, not really, not yet.
Amita was at a conference by herself. That happened more often since the kids had grown and moved out. He supposed it was something they should deal with soon. There was a knock on the kitchen door. Charlie went to tell the madman in the blue box he was too old for Neverland.
No (#371 Need)
"Hello, Charlie."
Charlie peered around the man at his door to see if there was anyone else. The TARDIS was there, her doors open, but no one else emerged. He looked closely at the face in front of him so much older than the last face he knew, possibly older than the last two combined. But he could already feel the TARDIS in his mind, soothing him.
"Doctor."
"Ah, good, got the right person. Not so good with names and faces these days. Or people really. Or things, or dates. But no matter, I need you."
"The answer is no."
Irresistible Offer (#485 Lure)
The Doctor brushed past Charlie and started rummaging through his fridge. "Of all the creatures in the universe milk has to come from a cow. Milk and coffee. No coffee doesn't come from cows." He pulled himself from the fridge. "Does it?"
"No," Charlie sighed. "And the answer is still no. I've gotten old. Too old to be running around after zombie aliens."
"You haven't gotten old. I've gotten old."
"You were always old."
"Doesn't matter. No zombie aliens. Don't need that kind of help." The Doctor held out a piece of chalk. "I need some help with my math."
Redecorating (#454 New)
Each time Charlie stepped into the TARDIS it had been different, especially the smell. The first time was almost overpowering; burnt circuit boards, fried electronics, and perhaps a cup of coffee that had been left a bit too long. The second time it was fresh and new the smell of clean copper, like a wet penny or spilled blood. This time it smelled of chalk.
Charlie spun around. Books and chalkboards where before there had been empty panels. It was beautiful. "You redecorated."
"Yeah, thought I should."
"I like it."
"Really?"
Charlie took a deep breath. "Yeah, I really do."
Elegant Yet Complex (#414 Rush)
Charlie stroked his hand along the controls of the TARDIS as he made for the largest chalkboard. It was covered in the circular language of the Time Lords.
"So… What problem are we trying to solve?"
"It's a little tricky to explain."
"Well I can't work on a problem if I don't know what it is so you'll have to try your best."
The Doctor pressed a finger to his forehead. The universe, all of space and time, thousands of years of memories, and an elegant yet frightfully complex problem rushed through his brain in the space of a breath.
Bits and Pieces (#490 Separate)
Charlie knew he could never solve the Doctor's problem, not if he regenerated himself a dozen times and worked on nothing else.
But bits, yes there were bits, a basic phrase here, a simple proof there. Like picking at a knot with his fingernails. If he picked at it long enough he might just find the end of the bit of string. No not and ending place, a starting place.
A piece of chalk was placed in his hand and he was place before an empty chalk board. He took a breath, let the TARDIS into his mind, and began.
The Problem (#291 Dream)
Charlie's body succumb to sleep for the second or maybe third time but even in his dreams the Problem and the sweet song of the TARDIS swam through his mind. He wished he could blend the two for the beauty it would create. The elegant beauty.
Charlie woke to a cup of milky tea held under his nose by a sweet faced young woman. He wrapped his hands around the warmth, they were beginning to cramp.
"Apparently the Doctor doesn't like skim milk in his tea so he popped around to mine."
"My wife is trying to keep me healthy."
A Part Time Doctor (#365 Rest)
Charlie accepted a donut from Clara to go with the tea.
"So I take it you've run with the Doctor before?" she asked.
"Run is the key word." The donut was jam filled. "I guess you're his new… traveling companion?"
Clara snorted. "The last one's, maybe. This one, he's what I do on weekends or after work. He does have a bad habit of interrupting good dates."
"A part time Doctor. That's smart. Did the last one have a bowtie or have I missed a few again?"
"Bowtie, a fetish for stupid hats, and self-inflicted ADD?"
"Yeah, that was him."
Tea (#408 Twist)
"Oi! You two, stop gossiping, nap time's over, back to work." The Doctor yelled across the control room.
"It's only work if you pay him." Clara yelled back. "Are you paying him?"
"I don't know."
Charlie pried himself up. "He's not. It's okay. For this I'd have to up my consulting fees quite a lot." Charlie took another sip of his tea, his milky, sweet, and bitter tea. Three tastes, twisting into one, brought on by the swirl of the spoon and the heat of the water.
Charlie blinked.
"Doctor, I think I have an idea. Or maybe an answer."
Post TARDIS Hangover (#468 Ache)
Charlie didn't sleep. Not for a day and a night, or whatever the equivalent on the TARDIS was. She understood what he was thinking and began to sing in his head. The chalk vanished in his hand and was quickly replaced. Stick after stick, covering boards and crawling down across the floor.
He started inventing notation; alien letters to represent a hundred lines of equations.
Finally he fell. His not as young body giving out as if it had been running for its life from zombie aliens.
He woke in his own bed, his head pounding with a TARDIS hangover.
Tea and Bagels (#77 Wife)
In the kitchen Clara and Amita were sipping tea and eating bagels. Amita must have brought them back from New York. Or the Doctor picked them up somewhere and they were special space bagels. Charlie couldn't remember the last time he ate.
Amita saw him, got up, and gave him a sweet kiss.
"The Doctor is offering to take us to the best deli in the 37th century as a thank you."
"How many months do you think we'll be gone?" Charlie mused.
Amita smiled "We could make it a second honeymoon?"
"Good idea. But let's avoid the zombie aliens."