[ficlet] Little Bird
Title: Little Bird
Author: noscrubs12345
awdt Christmas Quickie #1: a partridge in a pear tree
Word Count: ~700
Rating: PG
Summary: Amy and the Doctor stumble across a rather unusual window dressing.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russell T Davies, Steven Moffat and the BBC. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Notes: I wrote Doctor Who fic. With Amy and Eleven. That isn't a Torchwood crossover. Or complete crack. I am quite pleased with myself.
~~~~~~~
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Amy exclaimed, stopping outside the shop and staring at the window display.
“What?” the Doctor asked, stopping beside her. He looked between Amy and the window, his frown reflected in the smooth glass. He glanced at her sidelong, his frown changing to a confused pout. “It’s a perfectly normal Christmas window dressing.”
“It’s a partridge,” she said, one eyebrow raised. “In a bloody pear tree. As in an actual bird.”
The Doctor turned back to the display and, reaching into his pocket, pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He flicked it on, running it over the display, his tongue poking out as he concentrated. After a moment, he nodded and flicked off the device. “Actually, I think it’s a quince, to be precise,” he said as he pocketed the screwdriver once more. “But it’s the thought really. Pears have been hard to come by since the blight on Argos V in 6359.” He paused for a moment, turning his frown at Amy when she opened her mouth to retort. “And no, I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Amy laughed when she heard him mumble “not anything they can prove” under his breath. She leaned into him, linking her arm through his, as they were jostled by the holiday shoppers crowding the pavement.
“That’s beside the point,” she said after a moment. “It’s a partridge. In a pear tree. And they’re selling them. As a set. For Christmas”
The Doctor frowned at her. “They’ve got a sale on calling birds if you’d prefer,” he said, pointing to a handwritten sign in the bottom corner of the window that claimed they could ‘buy three for 12,000 credits, get fourth free!’
“Doctor,” Amy said, glancing at him with a small smile and raised eyebrows, “I couldn’t keep my goldfish alive when I was eight. I don’t want a partridge in a pear tree.”
“Then, why are you...?” the Doctor asked, looking between the display and his companion.
“The partridge is purple with green speckles and turquoise eyes,” Amy said as if she were speaking to a small child. “And it has two heads.”
The Doctor made a noise of disapproval and gave her a Look. “And you probably look just as weird to it as it does to you.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Amy said, frowning slightly. She turned back to the window, watching as the bird shuffled in the branches and one of its heads turned from side to side as it studied them. The other head was busy grooming the wing on its side of the body. “It’s just...I’ve never seen any bird like it before. It’s really quite...unique. Beautiful.”
She didn’t miss the surprised look on the Doctor’s face reflected in the glass as she laid her head on his shoulder.
“Oh,” the Doctor said, clearing his throat. “Well, there are some pretty weird birds on Earth. Like the boobies and their silly coloured feet. And peacocks! Honestly, have you seen the tails on those things? The way they strut around, showing off. It’s like a full on show from one of the Vegas galaxies!”
“Vegas galaxies, Doctor?” Amy asked, smirking up at him. She hid her smile in his shoulder when he blushed.
“There had been some Elvis sightings an old friend of mine wanted me to check out,” he said and steered them away from the window display.
“So Elvis is alive and well and living in the 64th Century?” Amy asked, incredulous, as they rejoined the throng of shoppers and revellers.
“He still sends Christmas cards,” the Doctor said with a firm nod, trying not to smile as Amy giggled.
“Are you serious?” she asked, letting go of his arm as they stopped at a pedestrian crossing.
“About as serious as those roast chestnuts across the street,” the Doctor said and Amy followed his gaze to the vendor in question.
“Race you?” she asked, grinning mischievously at him as the light changed from amber to red and the hovercrafts in the street started to slow.
“Loser buys,” the Doctor said, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, eyes on the light across the zebra crossing.
They shared a smile before darting into the crosswalk as the light changed.
Author: noscrubs12345
awdt Christmas Quickie #1: a partridge in a pear tree
Word Count: ~700
Rating: PG
Summary: Amy and the Doctor stumble across a rather unusual window dressing.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russell T Davies, Steven Moffat and the BBC. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Notes: I wrote Doctor Who fic. With Amy and Eleven. That isn't a Torchwood crossover. Or complete crack. I am quite pleased with myself.
~~~~~~~
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Amy exclaimed, stopping outside the shop and staring at the window display.
“What?” the Doctor asked, stopping beside her. He looked between Amy and the window, his frown reflected in the smooth glass. He glanced at her sidelong, his frown changing to a confused pout. “It’s a perfectly normal Christmas window dressing.”
“It’s a partridge,” she said, one eyebrow raised. “In a bloody pear tree. As in an actual bird.”
The Doctor turned back to the display and, reaching into his pocket, pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He flicked it on, running it over the display, his tongue poking out as he concentrated. After a moment, he nodded and flicked off the device. “Actually, I think it’s a quince, to be precise,” he said as he pocketed the screwdriver once more. “But it’s the thought really. Pears have been hard to come by since the blight on Argos V in 6359.” He paused for a moment, turning his frown at Amy when she opened her mouth to retort. “And no, I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Amy laughed when she heard him mumble “not anything they can prove” under his breath. She leaned into him, linking her arm through his, as they were jostled by the holiday shoppers crowding the pavement.
“That’s beside the point,” she said after a moment. “It’s a partridge. In a pear tree. And they’re selling them. As a set. For Christmas”
The Doctor frowned at her. “They’ve got a sale on calling birds if you’d prefer,” he said, pointing to a handwritten sign in the bottom corner of the window that claimed they could ‘buy three for 12,000 credits, get fourth free!’
“Doctor,” Amy said, glancing at him with a small smile and raised eyebrows, “I couldn’t keep my goldfish alive when I was eight. I don’t want a partridge in a pear tree.”
“Then, why are you...?” the Doctor asked, looking between the display and his companion.
“The partridge is purple with green speckles and turquoise eyes,” Amy said as if she were speaking to a small child. “And it has two heads.”
The Doctor made a noise of disapproval and gave her a Look. “And you probably look just as weird to it as it does to you.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Amy said, frowning slightly. She turned back to the window, watching as the bird shuffled in the branches and one of its heads turned from side to side as it studied them. The other head was busy grooming the wing on its side of the body. “It’s just...I’ve never seen any bird like it before. It’s really quite...unique. Beautiful.”
She didn’t miss the surprised look on the Doctor’s face reflected in the glass as she laid her head on his shoulder.
“Oh,” the Doctor said, clearing his throat. “Well, there are some pretty weird birds on Earth. Like the boobies and their silly coloured feet. And peacocks! Honestly, have you seen the tails on those things? The way they strut around, showing off. It’s like a full on show from one of the Vegas galaxies!”
“Vegas galaxies, Doctor?” Amy asked, smirking up at him. She hid her smile in his shoulder when he blushed.
“There had been some Elvis sightings an old friend of mine wanted me to check out,” he said and steered them away from the window display.
“So Elvis is alive and well and living in the 64th Century?” Amy asked, incredulous, as they rejoined the throng of shoppers and revellers.
“He still sends Christmas cards,” the Doctor said with a firm nod, trying not to smile as Amy giggled.
“Are you serious?” she asked, letting go of his arm as they stopped at a pedestrian crossing.
“About as serious as those roast chestnuts across the street,” the Doctor said and Amy followed his gaze to the vendor in question.
“Race you?” she asked, grinning mischievously at him as the light changed from amber to red and the hovercrafts in the street started to slow.
“Loser buys,” the Doctor said, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, eyes on the light across the zebra crossing.
They shared a smile before darting into the crosswalk as the light changed.