Housework Meme: Results (Pt5)
And now, the end of the housework meme! (Phew. That was a long meme.)
3. Press Gang - Lynda Day/Spike Thomson: getting an oil change for the car. From lolmac (All ages, 540 words) Who specified there was to be no vehicle substitution. I managed this, even though I’m pretty sure neither of the characters would have a valid UK driving license, let alone a car.
***
“Well, yep. That’s an engine, all right. You can tell. There’s all these parts, connected to other parts.”
Lynda emerged from beneath the raised car bonnet. “Oh, shut up, Spike.”
“No need to snap my nose off, boss,” said Spike, and then shrugged. “On second thoughts, why change the habit of a lifetime?”
“I haven’t known you all my life, Spike.”
“No. It just feels like it.”
“Funny, that’s what I was going to say!”
“Cute. Anyway, you’re only annoyed with me ‘cos we broke down in the middle of nowhere in the rain while driving a car you don’t have a license for and you only kinda sorta borrowed from someone who probably stole it in the first place. Oh, and newsflash, Lynda: you can’t drive.”
“I got us this far, didn’t I?” said Lynda. “Anyway, you can’t drive, either.”
“Hey, I had lessons, which is more than you have, judging by your driving style. And you do know, Lynda, that doesn’t actually make this any better, right?”
“What’s wrong with my driving style?”
“It’s hard to know where to start… but here’s a thought: you can’t expect roundabouts to move out of your way. There’s a clue in the name. Even I get that. And I learned on the other side of the road. Come to think of it, that car had all its parts - and they worked.”
Lynda gave him a killing glare, and marched off in search of a telephone box.
*
Kenny picked up the phone and glanced at his watch. It was nearly 11.30pm. There was only one person it could be. “Hello, Lynda Day.”
“Kenny, I’ve broken down and I’m just off the Sherrington Road. With Spike.”
Kenny paused and tried to think about what to say first. “Lynda. You can’t drive. You weren’t allowed any more lessons after that time with the leisure centre and that little old lady who was only -”
“Kenny, how long do you want to live?”
“Point taken. Care to explain?” He listened as she told him what had happened and described the ailing car’s symptoms. “Well, sounds like it could be the oil that needs changing. Look, I tell you what. Stay where you are and I’ll get down there, bring some oil - and drive you home before you demolish something.”
“For your information, I didn’t hit anything at all before it stopped working.”
“Well done, Lynda. I’m glad to hear it.”
“I mean, you can’t count that litter bin, whatever Spike says. Hold on… Kenny. You can’t drive either.”
“As it happens, I can,” said Kenny, indulging in a rare chance to be smug at Lynda’s expense from a safe distance. “Probably because I didn’t threaten to bite my instructor’s ear off on the second lesson. But, Lynda, there is one other thing. You don’t have a car. Please tell me you didn’t steal one.”
“Of course I didn’t steal it,” said Lynda. “I borrowed it. I left a note and everything.”
“You borrowed it?”
“From Colin.”
“Colin?” Kenny’s eyebrows shot up. “This car belongs to Colin? Lynda, were you feeling particularly suicidal this evening or was it somebody else you wanted to kill?”
“Well, now that you mention it, Spike is here with me…”
***
14. Spooks - Ruth/Harry: hoovering the curtains. From daibhid_c
I tried writing this, and I worked out that they were hoovering the curtains (probably in a safe house) as an excuse to keep an eye on what was happening outside, and that it was Ruth’s idea. But I couldn’t come up with anything non-dull beyond that. The best I managed was a conversation about hoovering the curtains vs washing them, and that point I decided it was better for everyone's sakes if I didn't attempt actually writing it. (Sorry. I think maybe I need to rewatch some Spooks, when I can. Ruth and Harry are kind of elusive.)
19. Doctor Who - Ben Jackson/Polly Wright: changing nappies. (599 words) From belantana (Who said that the baby didn’t have to be theirs, in fact, the unlikelier, the better. So, it was pretty unlikely. It's not terribly good, though, really, this one, but meme!fic. And I have prompts now. Prompts are cool.)
***
“Ben,” said Polly. “Ben.”
There was an edge to her voice that made Ben crawl back away from the low wall, despite the need to keep an eye on the advancing forces. He turned around and then stopped in shock at what he was seeing.
“Blimey,” he said, taking the fact that she was inexplicably holding a baby. “Something you haven’t been telling me, Duchess?”
She wrinkled her nose at his nonsense. “Oh, you would say a thing like that. The Doctor left him - her - it.”
“Never dull with him, is it?” said Ben, as the baby decided to start crying.
“Ben! What do I do with it?”
Ben moved nearer. “What did the Doctor say?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Ben - but it won’t be quiet.”
Ben opened his mouth to reply and then had to stop, ducking as a spear flew past his head, and then pulling all three of them further back, behind some rocks. “I don’t blame it. A battlefield ain’t the place for any of us, let alone a baby.”
“Oh, do stop that noise, you horrible infant,” said Polly, and then kissed the baby’s head.
“It’s probably hungry. Or needs changing, that’s all.”
Polly looked back at him.
“Right. Yeah,” said Ben. “Milk and nappies. Not things you find the middle of a battlefield, especially not when you’re stuck in the second century. What did the Doctor say?”
“Well, he just said, ‘Here, Polly, look after this.’ And then he ran off again.”
They exchanged glances again, as the baby wailed on.
“If you don’t stop that,” said Polly to the child, “I shall call you something hideous like Algernon or Euphemia. I’m beginning to think you’d deserve it.”
Ben shook his head at her. “Here, hand him over. You’re not even holding him right.”
Polly made the exchange, awkwardly, and then said, with a cheeky grin, “Well, is there something you’re not telling me, then?”
Ben held the baby against his shoulder and noticed that it was wearing modern, Twentieth Century clothes, so either the Doctor had somehow managed to get a baby from the future, or he’d brought the clothes with him. You couldn’t rule anything out when you were talking about the Doctor. It made Ben’s head spin just thinking about it. “I’ve got brothers and sisters,” he said, answering Polly’s jibe. “Cousins and all.”
Polly looked round from behind the rocks. “Well, the soldiers seem to be heading in the other direction now, so at least that’s something.”
Ben had done a little investigation. “He needs changing, that’s it.”
“Ooh,” said Polly. “Wait till the Doctor gets back here!”
Ben looked around them. “Yeah, I know. We’ll just have to use whatever we’ve got in the meantime.”
“Ben -”
Easier said than done, he thought, and frowned over it. The best he could come up with was to use his vest, so they exchanged the baby again, and he edged over towards the rocks and got the item of clothing off as quickly as he could.
By the time he had, he rejoined them to find Polly pulling faces at the baby, while the child tugged at her hair.
“Now for the tricky bit,” said Ben, pulling out his Swiss Army knife and regretfully sacrificing his vest. “And I don’t know where the Doctor got the kid from, but at least he comes with his own safety pin.”
“In Roman Britain?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Well,” said Polly, “I hope he’s got a very good explanation for it!”
Ben grinned back. “I don’t know about good, but it’ll probably be interesting.”
***
3. Press Gang - Lynda Day/Spike Thomson: getting an oil change for the car. From lolmac (All ages, 540 words) Who specified there was to be no vehicle substitution. I managed this, even though I’m pretty sure neither of the characters would have a valid UK driving license, let alone a car.
***
“Well, yep. That’s an engine, all right. You can tell. There’s all these parts, connected to other parts.”
Lynda emerged from beneath the raised car bonnet. “Oh, shut up, Spike.”
“No need to snap my nose off, boss,” said Spike, and then shrugged. “On second thoughts, why change the habit of a lifetime?”
“I haven’t known you all my life, Spike.”
“No. It just feels like it.”
“Funny, that’s what I was going to say!”
“Cute. Anyway, you’re only annoyed with me ‘cos we broke down in the middle of nowhere in the rain while driving a car you don’t have a license for and you only kinda sorta borrowed from someone who probably stole it in the first place. Oh, and newsflash, Lynda: you can’t drive.”
“I got us this far, didn’t I?” said Lynda. “Anyway, you can’t drive, either.”
“Hey, I had lessons, which is more than you have, judging by your driving style. And you do know, Lynda, that doesn’t actually make this any better, right?”
“What’s wrong with my driving style?”
“It’s hard to know where to start… but here’s a thought: you can’t expect roundabouts to move out of your way. There’s a clue in the name. Even I get that. And I learned on the other side of the road. Come to think of it, that car had all its parts - and they worked.”
Lynda gave him a killing glare, and marched off in search of a telephone box.
*
Kenny picked up the phone and glanced at his watch. It was nearly 11.30pm. There was only one person it could be. “Hello, Lynda Day.”
“Kenny, I’ve broken down and I’m just off the Sherrington Road. With Spike.”
Kenny paused and tried to think about what to say first. “Lynda. You can’t drive. You weren’t allowed any more lessons after that time with the leisure centre and that little old lady who was only -”
“Kenny, how long do you want to live?”
“Point taken. Care to explain?” He listened as she told him what had happened and described the ailing car’s symptoms. “Well, sounds like it could be the oil that needs changing. Look, I tell you what. Stay where you are and I’ll get down there, bring some oil - and drive you home before you demolish something.”
“For your information, I didn’t hit anything at all before it stopped working.”
“Well done, Lynda. I’m glad to hear it.”
“I mean, you can’t count that litter bin, whatever Spike says. Hold on… Kenny. You can’t drive either.”
“As it happens, I can,” said Kenny, indulging in a rare chance to be smug at Lynda’s expense from a safe distance. “Probably because I didn’t threaten to bite my instructor’s ear off on the second lesson. But, Lynda, there is one other thing. You don’t have a car. Please tell me you didn’t steal one.”
“Of course I didn’t steal it,” said Lynda. “I borrowed it. I left a note and everything.”
“You borrowed it?”
“From Colin.”
“Colin?” Kenny’s eyebrows shot up. “This car belongs to Colin? Lynda, were you feeling particularly suicidal this evening or was it somebody else you wanted to kill?”
“Well, now that you mention it, Spike is here with me…”
***
14. Spooks - Ruth/Harry: hoovering the curtains. From daibhid_c
I tried writing this, and I worked out that they were hoovering the curtains (probably in a safe house) as an excuse to keep an eye on what was happening outside, and that it was Ruth’s idea. But I couldn’t come up with anything non-dull beyond that. The best I managed was a conversation about hoovering the curtains vs washing them, and that point I decided it was better for everyone's sakes if I didn't attempt actually writing it. (Sorry. I think maybe I need to rewatch some Spooks, when I can. Ruth and Harry are kind of elusive.)
19. Doctor Who - Ben Jackson/Polly Wright: changing nappies. (599 words) From belantana (Who said that the baby didn’t have to be theirs, in fact, the unlikelier, the better. So, it was pretty unlikely. It's not terribly good, though, really, this one, but meme!fic. And I have prompts now. Prompts are cool.)
***
“Ben,” said Polly. “Ben.”
There was an edge to her voice that made Ben crawl back away from the low wall, despite the need to keep an eye on the advancing forces. He turned around and then stopped in shock at what he was seeing.
“Blimey,” he said, taking the fact that she was inexplicably holding a baby. “Something you haven’t been telling me, Duchess?”
She wrinkled her nose at his nonsense. “Oh, you would say a thing like that. The Doctor left him - her - it.”
“Never dull with him, is it?” said Ben, as the baby decided to start crying.
“Ben! What do I do with it?”
Ben moved nearer. “What did the Doctor say?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Ben - but it won’t be quiet.”
Ben opened his mouth to reply and then had to stop, ducking as a spear flew past his head, and then pulling all three of them further back, behind some rocks. “I don’t blame it. A battlefield ain’t the place for any of us, let alone a baby.”
“Oh, do stop that noise, you horrible infant,” said Polly, and then kissed the baby’s head.
“It’s probably hungry. Or needs changing, that’s all.”
Polly looked back at him.
“Right. Yeah,” said Ben. “Milk and nappies. Not things you find the middle of a battlefield, especially not when you’re stuck in the second century. What did the Doctor say?”
“Well, he just said, ‘Here, Polly, look after this.’ And then he ran off again.”
They exchanged glances again, as the baby wailed on.
“If you don’t stop that,” said Polly to the child, “I shall call you something hideous like Algernon or Euphemia. I’m beginning to think you’d deserve it.”
Ben shook his head at her. “Here, hand him over. You’re not even holding him right.”
Polly made the exchange, awkwardly, and then said, with a cheeky grin, “Well, is there something you’re not telling me, then?”
Ben held the baby against his shoulder and noticed that it was wearing modern, Twentieth Century clothes, so either the Doctor had somehow managed to get a baby from the future, or he’d brought the clothes with him. You couldn’t rule anything out when you were talking about the Doctor. It made Ben’s head spin just thinking about it. “I’ve got brothers and sisters,” he said, answering Polly’s jibe. “Cousins and all.”
Polly looked round from behind the rocks. “Well, the soldiers seem to be heading in the other direction now, so at least that’s something.”
Ben had done a little investigation. “He needs changing, that’s it.”
“Ooh,” said Polly. “Wait till the Doctor gets back here!”
Ben looked around them. “Yeah, I know. We’ll just have to use whatever we’ve got in the meantime.”
“Ben -”
Easier said than done, he thought, and frowned over it. The best he could come up with was to use his vest, so they exchanged the baby again, and he edged over towards the rocks and got the item of clothing off as quickly as he could.
By the time he had, he rejoined them to find Polly pulling faces at the baby, while the child tugged at her hair.
“Now for the tricky bit,” said Ben, pulling out his Swiss Army knife and regretfully sacrificing his vest. “And I don’t know where the Doctor got the kid from, but at least he comes with his own safety pin.”
“In Roman Britain?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Well,” said Polly, “I hope he’s got a very good explanation for it!”
Ben grinned back. “I don’t know about good, but it’ll probably be interesting.”
***