Doctor Who/Torchwood: Home Is a Blue Box... 1/1 PG-13
TITLE:My Home Is a Blue Box, and Other Amazing Tales
AUTHOR: Matt
SUMMARY: Rose and Gwen, two women from present-day Britain, want to raise their children as normally as possible. But what is 'normal' when the fathers are a Time Lord and a 51st Century former Time Agent turned head of Torchwood Three?
PAIRINGS: Doctor/Rose, Jack/Gwen
OTHER CHARACTERS: Mention of other Torchwood characters
TIME PERIOD: Near future
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to BBC, Russell T. Davis, etc. Use of them is purely for enjoyment and no offence is intended.
FEEDBACK: Is always appreciated.
THANKS TO: sarken and alliesings for the beta reading.
Sometimes, I don't know what Gwen and I were thinking. Raise our kids as normally as possible? We should have known it wouldn't work, and the Doctor and Jack should have known too. Hell, there are times I wonder what we were thinking even having our boys. Not that we don't love them. We do.
At first, having kids was fun. Their fathers are basically big kids anyway. The Doctor and Jack got this big kick out of visiting toy shops on different planets and in different times. Pete and Tommy were spoiled rotten. Christmas was never in the same place either. One year it might be twentieth century Earth, the next year would be forty-second century New New Zealand.
But when it came time for the boys to start their formal schooling, as Gwen and I insisted, we decided to buy a house in Cardiff. We wanted the boys to have normal lives, even if we did all go planet-hopping at weekends and holidays. But it meant that the boys could have friends their own ages, and even bring them home to play video games and football if they wanted. We've got the TARDIS in one of the spare bedrooms; it's a bit like the wardrobe in the Narnia books I read as a kid.
Sadly, we failed to consider standard teaching methods and the way we'd been teaching the kids already. See, me and Gwen brought them up to tell the truth. I remember what my mum was like when I couldn't tell her where I'd been after an inadvertent twelve-month trip away from home, and Gwen admits that not being able to fully tell Rhys about Torchwood is part of the reason their engagement ended. It might have been easier to teach the boys the way of their fathers though. Both the Doctor and Jack have this habit of omitting stuff. It's not lying, I guess. But it's not exactly telling the truth either. Still, it might have been the better way to go considering the problems we've had since they started Year One at the local primary school.
Torchwood's sadly had to get used to the school calling on a regular basis. We've set up a separate phone line so everyone knows it’s the school and not some emergency of the alien kind. It's all right if it's just one of the kids that's sick. Owen's on file as their doctor and the school is just inept enough not to ask for a copy of his credentials or whatever it is that proves he's still on whatever list he was struck off of. One of us picks the kid up, brings them into Torchwood and Owen can do a complete diagnosis. We've only had one slight problem and that was when Pete broke his arm at the playground. The Doctor said he could heal it instantly in the TARDIS, but too many questions would have been asked so I insisted our boy ride it out. Besides, if he didn't have to suffer the consequences, Pete would have continued thinking he could do stupid things like jump off roofs.
But sometimes, that phone will ring and I can just tell by Ianto's voice that it's not the school nurse. He'll be trying hard not to laugh as he tells either me or Gwen that, yet again, there's a teacher that wants to meet with us. It's usually something connected with our sons' "over-active imaginations." It happens usually in English classes, when the children have to write something about themselves. The teachers think they take creative writing exercises a little too creatively.
"Write about your home, Peter."
"I've got two. We've got one here in Cardiff and our house that travels."
"You mean a camper, dear?"
"No. It's a blue box. It's a blue box and it's called the TARDIS."
The TARDIS didn't like being likened to one of those old smelly caravans. She and The Doctor sulked for days after that.
"I asked you to write about an historical hero. You wrote about your father, Peter."
"Well, he's ancient. Mum says he's over a thousand but he won't admit to being a day over nine hundred."
True enough. I thought my first Doctor was bad, but this one is totally vain in comparison. Thankfully, I've learned to overlook some of his idiosyncrasies over the years. I've had to really, or I'd never have stuck it out with him.
He came with me once, to the school. He let me do most of the talking, except for indignantly telling the teacher that his son had inherited his intelligence, and that obviously Pete was far smarter than the teacher. I know I've joked about 'The Oncoming Storm' but by the time we got home I thought the Doctor was going to obliterate something. I packed him off to the TARDIS while I decided how to address the matter with Pete. I know the TARDIS went somewhere because I heard it, but I really don't want to know where he went or what he did.
After that, I went to parent teacher meetings by myself. It was easier.
We've tried to take the boys on a couple of regular outings, to places around Cardiff. But the Doctor would always insist we could do better. Jack wasn't exactly a help either.
"A holographic zoo?"
"Yes, Miss."
"As much as I want to encourage your creativity, Thomas, you were asked to write about something you did during your holiday."
"That's what we did, Miss. We went to the zoo."
"A holographic one?"
"Yes, Miss. Dad said it's because all the animals became extinct in the thirtieth century."
Gwen thinks she should be grateful Tom didn't say it was because of the Animal Rights war in the twenty-eighth century that resulted in zoos all over the world being terrorist targets. He's not too keen on his class' pet rabbit as it is.
Don't even get me started on the pet pterodactyl. Even Jack agreed that taking Myfanwy to school was not a good idea. And no, neither Peter nor Thomas could bring their school friends to the Hub to see Janet the Weevil. Actually, Jack was furious about that one. He made them watch what happens when someone gets too close to a Weevil and then instructed Owen to give a graphic description of the death wounds a human would receive. Of course, it was Owen's decision as to how gory the description was. The boys had nightmares for days. Sometimes, what you find on Earth is far worse than anything in space.
While the teachers somewhat put up with 'creativity,' they're not so keen on what they consider to be outright lying.
"Why are you late, Thomas?"
"My dad, he has to drive me to school cos Mum's already working and Peter's sick. Well, he died this morning and I had to wait for him to wake up again. Took longer than usual. Mum's going to kill him when she finds out."
Good old Jack had managed to electrocute himself while re-wiring a Playstation. He and the Doctor didn't think it was fast enough. Unfortunately, it was the same day that I'd arranged for Pete to be off school for a Doctor's appointment. Owen had just finished reassuring me that Pete was going through a healthy and human growth spurt when the phone rang. Ianto took the call with his usual calmness before putting the school on hold. "Gwen, it's for you. Apparently, Jack died again," he commented.
This time, Jack insisted on going with Gwen. I think he just wanted to prove that rumours of his death were "greatly exaggerated." Unfortunately, the resurrection had also healed the burn marks on his hands.
"I just told them Jack had given the lad a scare," Gwen said with a sigh. "And couldn't they imagine what it must have been like to see his dad get shocked like that? But that sticky beak of a teacher had to remind me that only one person ever came back from the dead and perhaps his father and I should take our son to church so he could learn that."
Ianto says it's a good thing he and Jack never adopted. Never mind holographic zoos and resurrections, it would have been Child Protection Services knowing some of the kinks them two had. Gwen just thinks it would be funny if Ianto went with Jack sometime to pick up the boys. The same teacher would probably have a heart attack with the way Jack behaves sometimes. Old habits die hard, especially when the person concerned always manages to make death a non-permanent thing. It's so obvious to all of us that Jack loves Gwen, but he'll always flirt with anything with a pulse. It's his nature.
We are unconventional, I know that. The six of us technically live together in the same house, but that's because we really live in the TARDIS that's parked in the house. At least we look normal on the outside whenever we step out the front door. We get post, even if it is mostly bills and other junk. The bin men come on a Monday, even though we try to recycle most of the rubbish through the TARDIS system. The kids have normal clothes and wear the same school uniforms as the other kids do.
Schools are supposed to be all about teaching diversity and fostering creativity these days, but I think I preferred the way it was when I was at school. Pete and Tommy are bright kids, even though at times it's difficult for them to understand why other people are different to them. They've grown up in such a different environment. To them, alien isn't colour or culture, but rather alien is actually, well, alien. You say alien and they think of blue things with three legs and horns. But their friends and teachers think aliens are something you'd see on Star Trek or Men in Black. And I know there was the Slitheen, the Sycorax, the Battle of Canary Wharf, and the Racnoss while I was gone. But it's like no one wants to really acknowledge it all.
Still, as the boys get older, they'll learn that not everyone is accepting of who we are and what we do. And hopefully, the teachers will accept they went through a phase of being creative and let it go. It will be nice not to have to make weekly trips to meet with teachers.
Mind you, I'm more than a little concerned about the future. I mean, what's going to happen when they start taking science and discover that this planet doesn't have as many elements in the periodic table? It's going to be a disaster.
FINIS
AUTHOR: Matt
SUMMARY: Rose and Gwen, two women from present-day Britain, want to raise their children as normally as possible. But what is 'normal' when the fathers are a Time Lord and a 51st Century former Time Agent turned head of Torchwood Three?
PAIRINGS: Doctor/Rose, Jack/Gwen
OTHER CHARACTERS: Mention of other Torchwood characters
TIME PERIOD: Near future
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to BBC, Russell T. Davis, etc. Use of them is purely for enjoyment and no offence is intended.
FEEDBACK: Is always appreciated.
THANKS TO: sarken and alliesings for the beta reading.
Sometimes, I don't know what Gwen and I were thinking. Raise our kids as normally as possible? We should have known it wouldn't work, and the Doctor and Jack should have known too. Hell, there are times I wonder what we were thinking even having our boys. Not that we don't love them. We do.
At first, having kids was fun. Their fathers are basically big kids anyway. The Doctor and Jack got this big kick out of visiting toy shops on different planets and in different times. Pete and Tommy were spoiled rotten. Christmas was never in the same place either. One year it might be twentieth century Earth, the next year would be forty-second century New New Zealand.
But when it came time for the boys to start their formal schooling, as Gwen and I insisted, we decided to buy a house in Cardiff. We wanted the boys to have normal lives, even if we did all go planet-hopping at weekends and holidays. But it meant that the boys could have friends their own ages, and even bring them home to play video games and football if they wanted. We've got the TARDIS in one of the spare bedrooms; it's a bit like the wardrobe in the Narnia books I read as a kid.
Sadly, we failed to consider standard teaching methods and the way we'd been teaching the kids already. See, me and Gwen brought them up to tell the truth. I remember what my mum was like when I couldn't tell her where I'd been after an inadvertent twelve-month trip away from home, and Gwen admits that not being able to fully tell Rhys about Torchwood is part of the reason their engagement ended. It might have been easier to teach the boys the way of their fathers though. Both the Doctor and Jack have this habit of omitting stuff. It's not lying, I guess. But it's not exactly telling the truth either. Still, it might have been the better way to go considering the problems we've had since they started Year One at the local primary school.
Torchwood's sadly had to get used to the school calling on a regular basis. We've set up a separate phone line so everyone knows it’s the school and not some emergency of the alien kind. It's all right if it's just one of the kids that's sick. Owen's on file as their doctor and the school is just inept enough not to ask for a copy of his credentials or whatever it is that proves he's still on whatever list he was struck off of. One of us picks the kid up, brings them into Torchwood and Owen can do a complete diagnosis. We've only had one slight problem and that was when Pete broke his arm at the playground. The Doctor said he could heal it instantly in the TARDIS, but too many questions would have been asked so I insisted our boy ride it out. Besides, if he didn't have to suffer the consequences, Pete would have continued thinking he could do stupid things like jump off roofs.
But sometimes, that phone will ring and I can just tell by Ianto's voice that it's not the school nurse. He'll be trying hard not to laugh as he tells either me or Gwen that, yet again, there's a teacher that wants to meet with us. It's usually something connected with our sons' "over-active imaginations." It happens usually in English classes, when the children have to write something about themselves. The teachers think they take creative writing exercises a little too creatively.
"Write about your home, Peter."
"I've got two. We've got one here in Cardiff and our house that travels."
"You mean a camper, dear?"
"No. It's a blue box. It's a blue box and it's called the TARDIS."
The TARDIS didn't like being likened to one of those old smelly caravans. She and The Doctor sulked for days after that.
"I asked you to write about an historical hero. You wrote about your father, Peter."
"Well, he's ancient. Mum says he's over a thousand but he won't admit to being a day over nine hundred."
True enough. I thought my first Doctor was bad, but this one is totally vain in comparison. Thankfully, I've learned to overlook some of his idiosyncrasies over the years. I've had to really, or I'd never have stuck it out with him.
He came with me once, to the school. He let me do most of the talking, except for indignantly telling the teacher that his son had inherited his intelligence, and that obviously Pete was far smarter than the teacher. I know I've joked about 'The Oncoming Storm' but by the time we got home I thought the Doctor was going to obliterate something. I packed him off to the TARDIS while I decided how to address the matter with Pete. I know the TARDIS went somewhere because I heard it, but I really don't want to know where he went or what he did.
After that, I went to parent teacher meetings by myself. It was easier.
We've tried to take the boys on a couple of regular outings, to places around Cardiff. But the Doctor would always insist we could do better. Jack wasn't exactly a help either.
"A holographic zoo?"
"Yes, Miss."
"As much as I want to encourage your creativity, Thomas, you were asked to write about something you did during your holiday."
"That's what we did, Miss. We went to the zoo."
"A holographic one?"
"Yes, Miss. Dad said it's because all the animals became extinct in the thirtieth century."
Gwen thinks she should be grateful Tom didn't say it was because of the Animal Rights war in the twenty-eighth century that resulted in zoos all over the world being terrorist targets. He's not too keen on his class' pet rabbit as it is.
Don't even get me started on the pet pterodactyl. Even Jack agreed that taking Myfanwy to school was not a good idea. And no, neither Peter nor Thomas could bring their school friends to the Hub to see Janet the Weevil. Actually, Jack was furious about that one. He made them watch what happens when someone gets too close to a Weevil and then instructed Owen to give a graphic description of the death wounds a human would receive. Of course, it was Owen's decision as to how gory the description was. The boys had nightmares for days. Sometimes, what you find on Earth is far worse than anything in space.
While the teachers somewhat put up with 'creativity,' they're not so keen on what they consider to be outright lying.
"Why are you late, Thomas?"
"My dad, he has to drive me to school cos Mum's already working and Peter's sick. Well, he died this morning and I had to wait for him to wake up again. Took longer than usual. Mum's going to kill him when she finds out."
Good old Jack had managed to electrocute himself while re-wiring a Playstation. He and the Doctor didn't think it was fast enough. Unfortunately, it was the same day that I'd arranged for Pete to be off school for a Doctor's appointment. Owen had just finished reassuring me that Pete was going through a healthy and human growth spurt when the phone rang. Ianto took the call with his usual calmness before putting the school on hold. "Gwen, it's for you. Apparently, Jack died again," he commented.
This time, Jack insisted on going with Gwen. I think he just wanted to prove that rumours of his death were "greatly exaggerated." Unfortunately, the resurrection had also healed the burn marks on his hands.
"I just told them Jack had given the lad a scare," Gwen said with a sigh. "And couldn't they imagine what it must have been like to see his dad get shocked like that? But that sticky beak of a teacher had to remind me that only one person ever came back from the dead and perhaps his father and I should take our son to church so he could learn that."
Ianto says it's a good thing he and Jack never adopted. Never mind holographic zoos and resurrections, it would have been Child Protection Services knowing some of the kinks them two had. Gwen just thinks it would be funny if Ianto went with Jack sometime to pick up the boys. The same teacher would probably have a heart attack with the way Jack behaves sometimes. Old habits die hard, especially when the person concerned always manages to make death a non-permanent thing. It's so obvious to all of us that Jack loves Gwen, but he'll always flirt with anything with a pulse. It's his nature.
We are unconventional, I know that. The six of us technically live together in the same house, but that's because we really live in the TARDIS that's parked in the house. At least we look normal on the outside whenever we step out the front door. We get post, even if it is mostly bills and other junk. The bin men come on a Monday, even though we try to recycle most of the rubbish through the TARDIS system. The kids have normal clothes and wear the same school uniforms as the other kids do.
Schools are supposed to be all about teaching diversity and fostering creativity these days, but I think I preferred the way it was when I was at school. Pete and Tommy are bright kids, even though at times it's difficult for them to understand why other people are different to them. They've grown up in such a different environment. To them, alien isn't colour or culture, but rather alien is actually, well, alien. You say alien and they think of blue things with three legs and horns. But their friends and teachers think aliens are something you'd see on Star Trek or Men in Black. And I know there was the Slitheen, the Sycorax, the Battle of Canary Wharf, and the Racnoss while I was gone. But it's like no one wants to really acknowledge it all.
Still, as the boys get older, they'll learn that not everyone is accepting of who we are and what we do. And hopefully, the teachers will accept they went through a phase of being creative and let it go. It will be nice not to have to make weekly trips to meet with teachers.
Mind you, I'm more than a little concerned about the future. I mean, what's going to happen when they start taking science and discover that this planet doesn't have as many elements in the periodic table? It's going to be a disaster.
FINIS