FIC: Special Request (Doctor Who, PG, 1/1)
Special Request
Author: Palgrave
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Eleventh Doctor, original female character
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Except for Lucy, BBC.
Author's Notes: Missing scene for S5E6 - "Vampires in Venice". As always, feedback, constructive criticism, etc welcome. Enjoy!
Summary: Lucy gets a lot of weird requests at these kind of gigs, but it's the first time anyone's ever asked this one before.
*
"Can I borrow your cake?"
It wasn't the sort of request Lucy normally got at these things. She looked across from where she was huddled in the pub doorway for some meagre protection from the cold -- she always hated it when they made her wait outside -- and frowned at the asker. He was looking right into her eyes, which was new for a start.
"Pardon?"
"Your cake," the guy said, gesturing at the large novelty birthday cake beside her and buzzing with a kind of frantic nervous energy. "Need to borrow it. Sort of urgent."
Lucy looked him up and down. About her age, but tweedy. In that jacket and bow-tie, he sort of looked like a librarian. And a guy, obviously. If the agency were pulling some kind of prank, it was unlikely to go down well with this crowd.
"I don't think you'll get the same reaction I will, mate," She said gently, trying to sound as nice as possible.
Conversely to what she'd been expecting, the guy kind of puffed up a bit at that. "I'm almost certain I won't," he agreed happily. "But needs must. As I say, bit urgent. Are you not cold, by the way? You look cold. That top cannot be providing adequate warmth in this weather."
It wasn't -- not that anyone else except for this guy had bothered to ask, thank you very much. "I am a bit, actually."
"Well, that won't do at all, will it?" The man said sympathetically. "Have to sort that out as well. I'll get you a jumper. They seem to have jumpers here. Is that normal, by the way? Do you normally get jumpers at these sorts of things? Never been to one of these things before -- well, technically, a couple of times, just before this one, but they got a bit… awkward -- and I used to like wearing jumpers. But only if they had question marks on. I was a bit funny about question marks back then. These ones don't, by the looks of it, but I'll get you one anyway. Once I get in there. Which, in turn, brings us back to the question of the cake, and whether I can borrow it."
Lucy tried to catch up with the stream of rambling nonsense she'd just been subjected to. "Look, I can't just let you get take my cake. I need it, and I don't even know who you are."
"Quite right," the man exclaimed, smacking himself on the forehead. "How remiss of me. Asking you to entrust your cake to a stranger. I'm the Doctor." He held out his hand to shake; she took it automatically. "What's your name?"
"Lucy," she blurted out. She wasn't supposed to give out her proper name at these things, you never knew what kind of weirdos you were likely to encounter. But she somehow felt like she could trust this guy implicitly, even if he ticked almost every box in the 'weirdo' column. Maybe it was because he was very good at making eye-contact even despite her skimpy clothing and the other reasons thanks to it that you could tell she was cold.
The 'Doctor' beamed. "Lucy. Lovely name, Lucy. Have a cracker, Lucy." She found herself staring into an open box of animal crackers, which was far too big to have fit into the jacket pocket he somehow pulled it from.
"Oh, no thank y--"
"Dilated pupils," he interrupted gently, "and you're sweating. Not just because of the cold that you're cold, unless I miss my guess. Can't have you falling into hypoglycemic shock, now, can we?"
Lucy hadn't even noticed herself, really; it had been ages since she'd had an episode. Must have slightly messed up the amount of insulin she did before she went out to work. She could have crashed right out there on the job. Dunno how he'd noticed, but he did say he was a doctor.
"Thank you," she said hesitantly, taking a couple out of the box. They were dry and crunchy, and she didn't really like crackers, but he was nice and considerate and making eye contact. He handed her the box, and began prattling again:
"Not a problem. Have to check your insulin next time. Anyway, sorry to keep harping on, but while you're getting your blood sugar back to normal, I think it's rather important that we return to the subject of the cake. We've solved one of your objections, so --"
"Why do you want to borrow it anyway?" She asked. "You're a friend of this guy, why not just go in? Is this a prank or something?"
His eyes clouded. Lucy suddenly got the impression of a storm on the horizon, dark and ominous, ready to erupt and wipe everything clean out of its path. She shivered, and it wasn't just because of the cold or hypoglycemia.
"Not a prank, no," he said. "And not a friend. Not really. Met once, a little while ago. Friend of his bride-to-be, though. Only… things have happened. Are happening. Will be happening. Tenses get a bit awkward here. But bad things. And she sort-of kissed me, which isn't a very good sign either, in more than one way, and I've ruined too many good things between too many good people to just let that go without fixing it. And I haven't been invited. It would be rude to go to a private engagement without an invitation."
Lucy shook her head, as if trying to dispel the dark cloud that had suddenly passed between them, and trying once again to make sense of his rambling. "But… you still won't have been invited."
"No," the Doctor said brightly, and it was as if someone had flipped a switch, "but you have, and the cake has. I'd simply be a plus-one. See, thought about this."
It was logic of a sort.
"I'd get in trouble…" she said, reluctantly.
"Oh no," the Doctor reassured her, "I'd explain everything. I'm good at explaining things. Nothing to do with you or your skills; I'm sure you're very good at jumping out of cakes. And I assure you, I'd do my very best to meet those high standards as a stand-in; I'm very good at hiding in things, and I'm getting the hang of the bursting out of it part, and to be honest I'm a bit lost on what's supposed to happen after that bit but I'm very good at improvising."
"Oh, go on, then."
He'd done it. This weirdo in the bow-tie had somehow talked her into letting him get into her cake and burst out of it. At a bachelor party. And yet somehow she thought it was going to end up okay. He somehow had the ability to inspire confidence while doing the exact opposite of what was required to inspire it.
He beamed, and began clambering into the cake with a surprising amount of expertise. "Oh, thank you! I have to say, you're much nicer than the last cake owner I tried this with. He was a bit grumpy. And also male, which should have been a bit of a clue in hindsight, but you never know with these kind of things."
He wasn't getting changed or anything. "You're just gonna pop out dressed like that, then?" Lucy asked, picking up the cake lid to attach it.
"I was planning on it," the Doctor replied. He pulled a face. "Why? Is there a dress code? Never been very good at dress codes. Pick a style you like and stick with it, that's what I've always thought."
"Usually something like this," Lucy finally managed to reply, waving a hand down herself to gesture.
The Doctor took in the tight-fitting top, the skimpy bikini bottoms.
"Or less," she added, lamely.
For a moment, it seemed like he was seriously considering it.
"Actually," he replied graciously, "I'll leave those with you. No offense, but not really my sort of thing, and besides, we don't want you to end up naked, do we? Not in this cold."
Lucy thought about telling him that that was normally the point, but decided not to. It felt like it would be destroying innocence somehow.
There were a couple of voices approaching the doorway; must be her cue. What would normally be her cue. She looked down into the cake, where the Doctor was huddled expectantly.
"They," she sighed, as she began to attach the lid, "are going to get a hell of a surprise tonight."
He met her eyes just before she put the lid on, and she couldn't help but grin back at the devil-may-care gleam in his eyes.
"My dear Lucy," the Doctor replied, "I'd be disappointed if they didn't."