Five times the TARDIS arrived at the wrong time
I revised, really I did. But I got distracted. And therefore I have to put it up or it'd be a waste of time. Makes sense, really.
SHEEPY, RAINBOWCOBWEB! Number... 4 may interest you. Ten points if you get the Venice reference.
Also note my uncreativity in number 3.
1.
"Move out the way!"
Doing as he was told, the Doctor fell backwards into the shallow water behind him. He swore quietly before sitting up and looking around the underground Hub.
Hm. Not all was well, it would seem.
He wasn't entirely sure what was going on. There seemed to be a lot of code names in place, words like weevil and Myfanwy and stopwatch. People were running and shouting and pressing buttons and he honestly did wonder how humans had survived this long; really, they were useless in a crisis. And they'd hardly noticed he was here. Typical.
"Something wrong, Jack?"
"World's ending," the Captain called back, taking the stairs two at a time.
"Need any...?"
"No, got it covered, thanks." The Doctor shrugged.
"If you're sure..." They still weren't paying attention to him. You would have thought Torchwood's enemy walking into their base might have got a reaction...
Still. It was rather nice to let other people save the world once in a while.
2.
"You!" The Doctor made an effort to jump back into the TARDIS, and get as far away from Ianto as possible. Maybe the shouting should have been a clue to not come out of the police box.
As it was, he was backed up against his beloved time travel machine, stuck between the blue wood and a very pissed off human. He raised both hands above his head. Bit silly, but it couldn't hurt.
"This is all your fault!"
"It is? What is? What did I do this time?" He looked towards Jack for help, and saw the former Time Agent bloody giggling. Bastard.
"We were getting along fine! We were organised! We knew what to do. We had a usual formation that didn't change! And then you bring him -" behind Ianto, Jack rolled his eyes and sighed,
"We found a... box, thing. He's not normally like this. Tosh is trying to stop it."
"You bring him back," Ianto continued, "and he messes up everything!" The Doctor lowered his hands.
"I thought you might want him back."
"I did! We did, even. But that's not the point. And you bring him back happy! And hyperactive! Do you know what he's normally like? He spends half his day sulking and the rest telling us stories that are honestly the biggest load of-" The Doctor raised a hand to cut Ianto off mid-rant.
"Look, there's obviously some sort of problem here," one hand still behind his back, he pushed open the TARDIS door, "so, I'll be back in a few weeks once you've sorted it out!"
He grinned at them all, ran inside, and locked the door behind him. Well. That was… interesting.
3.
He wandered into the tourist information office whistling Don't Stop Me Now and staring at a spot of green that had appeared on his shoe. Where had he been recently that was green? What had exploded on him recently that was green?
He stopped in front of the desk and looked up, smiling at the man behind it. "Morning Iant- oh." He leaned forward on his toes, frowning. "You're not Ianto." Close match, but it wasn't right. Something about the fact he looked about eighteen. And the hair was completely different. The subtle differences, you know. The boy raised an eyebrow.
"No, I'm Gareth. Dad's downstairs." Hm. 'Dad'. Interesting.
"And your dad would, would, would be Ianto, yes?" the Doctor asked, stuttering slightly.
"Ye-es," he answered, slowly.
"And your mother, um-" Gareth snorted quietly.
"Last time you called him my mother he threatened to slam your head in the TARDIS door. Then said if you wanted proof he was a guy he'd show you. And then I left the room, 'cause he would, and there are things I don't need to see." Jack, then.
"Um. Gareth, was it? Have I got the wrong date again, by any chance?" Gareth shrugged.
"You were here about a fortnight ago. It's the eighteenth of March now."
"What year?"
"2025." The Doctor nodded slowly.
"Right. Few years off then." He shrugged. "Ah well, no harm done. Well," he said, backing out of the door with his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you... whenever. Probably best not to tell your parents, um, fathers about this. Just in case. Know how Jack gets."
Spinning around and marching towards the TARDIS, he laughed to himself. Jack Harkness was breeding. Good God.
4.
Bournemouth. He hadn't been here in years.
He stood in front of the TARDIS and looked down the rows of beach huts, immediately spotting a familiar looking blue one about ten to the right. And opposite this large blue 'beach house', sitting on the edge of the pathway with their legs hanging over the edge above the sand, were three girls with three ice cream cones, along with three pairs of shoes (he raised his eyebrows at the rainbow shoelaces) and a radio, covered in masking tape and what he knew from experience to be cake mixture.
Two were doing some strange dance to the song on the radio "And she said the boy's not right in the head..." while the third seemed to be glaring at the sea gulls and stealing chips from the others.
The girl sitting on the multi-coloured towel turned her head and grinned at him, waving with her free hand.
"Not ginger this time. Two more chances left though," she said, before turning back to the girl in bunches and singing with her loudly.
Well, this was odd. But that was definitely the TARDIS. And she seemed to know... Oh well, worse things could have happened to him.
He turned around and shut the door behind him.
"Change of plan, Martha. How do you feel about eighteenth century Venice?"
5.
Walking into the Hub, he tried to look less disappointed than he actually was. He'd expected a better security system, something a bit more of a challenge. Something that had required him to look amazing and brilliant and a bit like James Bond. Not four zaps from the sonic screwdriver and that was it. He jumped down the last three steps (and definitely didn't almost fall over when he landed) and called out.
"Jack! Fancy a quick hol- Oh. Sorry," he whispered to the two sleeping bodies on the settee. He tiptoed up to them, looked from all angles possible while standing in one spot, trying to see if he could remove Jack and not disturb the man whose name he should remember but didn't. Why didn't the universe make everyone wear name tags? It'd make everything easier for him.
Either way, moving Jack didn't seem like it was an option. Bugger. That was a waste of a trip. He sat down on top of one of the desks nearby, crossing his legs and looked at the mess around him.
"Ooh," he said quietly to himself, picking up a small ball, flashing different coloured lights. On a post-it note attached to it, was what seemed to be a list of ideas as to what it was. He pulled a biro (blue with a chewed lid) out of his pocket and crossed out every suggestion. Then, in big letters underneath, wrote RUBIX CUBE.
At least he had something to do until they woke up now.
SHEEPY, RAINBOWCOBWEB! Number... 4 may interest you. Ten points if you get the Venice reference.
Also note my uncreativity in number 3.
1.
"Move out the way!"
Doing as he was told, the Doctor fell backwards into the shallow water behind him. He swore quietly before sitting up and looking around the underground Hub.
Hm. Not all was well, it would seem.
He wasn't entirely sure what was going on. There seemed to be a lot of code names in place, words like weevil and Myfanwy and stopwatch. People were running and shouting and pressing buttons and he honestly did wonder how humans had survived this long; really, they were useless in a crisis. And they'd hardly noticed he was here. Typical.
"Something wrong, Jack?"
"World's ending," the Captain called back, taking the stairs two at a time.
"Need any...?"
"No, got it covered, thanks." The Doctor shrugged.
"If you're sure..." They still weren't paying attention to him. You would have thought Torchwood's enemy walking into their base might have got a reaction...
Still. It was rather nice to let other people save the world once in a while.
2.
"You!" The Doctor made an effort to jump back into the TARDIS, and get as far away from Ianto as possible. Maybe the shouting should have been a clue to not come out of the police box.
As it was, he was backed up against his beloved time travel machine, stuck between the blue wood and a very pissed off human. He raised both hands above his head. Bit silly, but it couldn't hurt.
"This is all your fault!"
"It is? What is? What did I do this time?" He looked towards Jack for help, and saw the former Time Agent bloody giggling. Bastard.
"We were getting along fine! We were organised! We knew what to do. We had a usual formation that didn't change! And then you bring him -" behind Ianto, Jack rolled his eyes and sighed,
"We found a... box, thing. He's not normally like this. Tosh is trying to stop it."
"You bring him back," Ianto continued, "and he messes up everything!" The Doctor lowered his hands.
"I thought you might want him back."
"I did! We did, even. But that's not the point. And you bring him back happy! And hyperactive! Do you know what he's normally like? He spends half his day sulking and the rest telling us stories that are honestly the biggest load of-" The Doctor raised a hand to cut Ianto off mid-rant.
"Look, there's obviously some sort of problem here," one hand still behind his back, he pushed open the TARDIS door, "so, I'll be back in a few weeks once you've sorted it out!"
He grinned at them all, ran inside, and locked the door behind him. Well. That was… interesting.
3.
He wandered into the tourist information office whistling Don't Stop Me Now and staring at a spot of green that had appeared on his shoe. Where had he been recently that was green? What had exploded on him recently that was green?
He stopped in front of the desk and looked up, smiling at the man behind it. "Morning Iant- oh." He leaned forward on his toes, frowning. "You're not Ianto." Close match, but it wasn't right. Something about the fact he looked about eighteen. And the hair was completely different. The subtle differences, you know. The boy raised an eyebrow.
"No, I'm Gareth. Dad's downstairs." Hm. 'Dad'. Interesting.
"And your dad would, would, would be Ianto, yes?" the Doctor asked, stuttering slightly.
"Ye-es," he answered, slowly.
"And your mother, um-" Gareth snorted quietly.
"Last time you called him my mother he threatened to slam your head in the TARDIS door. Then said if you wanted proof he was a guy he'd show you. And then I left the room, 'cause he would, and there are things I don't need to see." Jack, then.
"Um. Gareth, was it? Have I got the wrong date again, by any chance?" Gareth shrugged.
"You were here about a fortnight ago. It's the eighteenth of March now."
"What year?"
"2025." The Doctor nodded slowly.
"Right. Few years off then." He shrugged. "Ah well, no harm done. Well," he said, backing out of the door with his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you... whenever. Probably best not to tell your parents, um, fathers about this. Just in case. Know how Jack gets."
Spinning around and marching towards the TARDIS, he laughed to himself. Jack Harkness was breeding. Good God.
4.
Bournemouth. He hadn't been here in years.
He stood in front of the TARDIS and looked down the rows of beach huts, immediately spotting a familiar looking blue one about ten to the right. And opposite this large blue 'beach house', sitting on the edge of the pathway with their legs hanging over the edge above the sand, were three girls with three ice cream cones, along with three pairs of shoes (he raised his eyebrows at the rainbow shoelaces) and a radio, covered in masking tape and what he knew from experience to be cake mixture.
Two were doing some strange dance to the song on the radio "And she said the boy's not right in the head..." while the third seemed to be glaring at the sea gulls and stealing chips from the others.
The girl sitting on the multi-coloured towel turned her head and grinned at him, waving with her free hand.
"Not ginger this time. Two more chances left though," she said, before turning back to the girl in bunches and singing with her loudly.
Well, this was odd. But that was definitely the TARDIS. And she seemed to know... Oh well, worse things could have happened to him.
He turned around and shut the door behind him.
"Change of plan, Martha. How do you feel about eighteenth century Venice?"
5.
Walking into the Hub, he tried to look less disappointed than he actually was. He'd expected a better security system, something a bit more of a challenge. Something that had required him to look amazing and brilliant and a bit like James Bond. Not four zaps from the sonic screwdriver and that was it. He jumped down the last three steps (and definitely didn't almost fall over when he landed) and called out.
"Jack! Fancy a quick hol- Oh. Sorry," he whispered to the two sleeping bodies on the settee. He tiptoed up to them, looked from all angles possible while standing in one spot, trying to see if he could remove Jack and not disturb the man whose name he should remember but didn't. Why didn't the universe make everyone wear name tags? It'd make everything easier for him.
Either way, moving Jack didn't seem like it was an option. Bugger. That was a waste of a trip. He sat down on top of one of the desks nearby, crossing his legs and looked at the mess around him.
"Ooh," he said quietly to himself, picking up a small ball, flashing different coloured lights. On a post-it note attached to it, was what seemed to be a list of ideas as to what it was. He pulled a biro (blue with a chewed lid) out of his pocket and crossed out every suggestion. Then, in big letters underneath, wrote RUBIX CUBE.
At least he had something to do until they woke up now.