A Rose By Any Other Name...Is Still A Fred
Title: A Rose By Any Other Name is Still A Fred
Author: Ikindofrock
Rating: G/PG
Summary: Romana hears about the Doctor before her travels in Key to Time, as per the request by _snakeface.
Word Count: 1586 words or so
**Sorry bout the lateness, life did in fact get in the way**
“Honestly, Pip, if you don’t make more than just a one-hearted attempt to study up on multi-loop stabilizers, you’re going to flunk out of the academy and end up with some dead-end job in the palace guard!”
“Oh stop tetching, madam.”
“Please don’t call me madam,” Romana replied, not sounding terribly bothered. “I haven’t even reached my terrible 200’s yet.”
Pip had no reply but suspected that, even if he did, the only good it would do is add another voice to the inhumanly insufferable academic babble surrounding them.
“What’s so interesting that you’re reading anyways?”
Romana’s eyes had never left her book, a cheery 9000-page tome, Vampires and the Near-Defenestration of the Gallifreyan Landmass in the Days Before the Bowships of Rassilon.
Pip sighed. “By the vagina of Rassilon, even the title’s pretentious.”
***
“You’ve been working for three years in the library and yet you ignore anything that might actually be considered interesting!”
“I have no interest in the work of philistines, Pip. Balderdash and hornswagglers the lot of them, writing tomes about Salyavin and Omega and wearing black robes and berets, pretending to be original.”
Pip sighed as he so often did around her, giving up yet again.
“I wish the Doctor would come round. He’d liven things up, I expect.”
“And who’s the Doctor then? Don’t know why I’m asking, probably just another one of your precious renegades…”
“JUST ANOTHER RENEGADE?!?” If Pip’s eyes could have bulged out anymore his face would have exploded. “He has flair, he has style, he has…”
“An ego the size of a Taran woodbeast, if this is how people always talk about him.”
***
Pip showed up in his aircar to take her to work the next day.
“Lady Romana, welcome to my speed demon of luuuurve.” Before the words were even out of his mouth he rolled his eyes.
“Kindly desist from referring to me as Romana. Nicknames and false titles are for numbskulls with sociopathetic inclinations and massive compensation syndromes.”
“Well those socio..er…compensydromatic…um…well those can’t be worse than Romanadvoratnelundar. Honestly, keep up with that and you’ll never get a date to the academy ball. By the time anyone got through saying your name the sun would have set and the entire universe would have gone to bed.”
“At least I don’t have a foolish moniker like ‘Pip.’ Your mother must still mourn the passing of Filigrippinobejuvinatory.” Romana looked wistful. “That truly is a lovely name.”
“My nickname’s got plenty of class. I’ll have you know that it’s literary. Earth, 18th century, Dickensian.”
“You’ve never been to Earth, and have probably never read Dickens.”
“You don’t know that!”
“He doesn’t have any pictures. And his books tend to be more than 20 pages.”
“Fine, so I haven’t read any Dickens. But the Doctor has. He loves Dickens. Huge fan.”
“I know. He apparently stole the collection before running away.” Romana carefully recorded her arrival in the ledger. “At least he has the decency to worship writers and not renegades.”
She stopped for a minute and looked up.
“What is it with renegades and stealing books from the Panopticon anyways? There must be some invisible sign hanging over it, reading “Please Invade” on Tuesdays and “Please Nick Books and Be an Utter Nuisance” every other Friday. Prevents me from getting enough work hours.”
***
Four hours later, Pip hadn’t left, and Romana felt there wasn’t a single thing she could possibly know about the Doctor apart from perhaps the shoe size of his second regeneration, a fact that made her want to strangle Pip with a giant anorak made out of crushed stones from the Death Zone.
“And then there were the Daleks…”
Snore.
“And Cybermen.”
If she never heard about cyber-anything again it would be too soon. “I’m really not impressed.”
Pip turned away and sulked. “Well, he did manage to get out of here, unlike the rest of us.”
Romana wouldn’t have minded getting out from her current situation either. Perhaps there was some girl who drove the Doctor up the wall and straight off Gallifrey.
“Will you shut up about your blasted Doctor? Besides, we would all be better served following Chancellor Borusa’s example. Look at him, all hardworking, no brooking of fools.”
They both watched as Borusa chased around a poor clerk named Runstable with his head adornment after he didn’t end an address with ‘sir’.
“Yup. I am certainly watching, and seeing an example clearly worth following…” Pip tried to hide his smirk.
Romana did look a bit chagrined, but only a bit. It would never do to show total weakness of opinion.
“…and you know something? I was watching his example yesterday as well, and clearly remember him being not-ginger.”
Romana began to stammer… “well, appearances, they’re not the be all and end all, and well…”
“Oh come on, he’s utterly superficial. And officious. He’s never met a rule that he wouldn’t follow blindly. If Gallifreyan law suddenly required him to obey a murderer, you know he would, no questions asked.”
Romana completely ignored what Pip just said and continued on in rapid soliloquoy, “This constant focus on appearance, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to change it on a whim, you know? Not like any of us will die anytime soon. May as well make use of our physiognomy.”
“Yeah, but…”
“And if you’re bored, or you want to make someone happy, then why not change? Hmm?”
Pip’s face turned to enlightenment and then looked suspicious. “You haven’t done that before have you?”
“No, of course not. But frankly, if I met the right man, I think I would have no problems molding myself into his ideal.”
“Well, you’re hardly unattractive as is. Besides, isn’t that terribly anti-feminist?”
“It would be two-way you know. I’d work into his perfection and he’d have brown spikey hair, wear nice suits and even nicer ties.”
“Sounds like a right arrogant prat to me.”
Romana smiled, her focus far enough away as to be on some other planet. “One can but hope.”
***
A sharp rap on the door aroused Romana from her thesis-induced reverie. She opened the door.
“Did you, um, die your hair, Pip?” Romana squeaked.
Pip blushed and looked away, mumbling oh, of course not, he’d never do anything so superficial that, but with an utter lack of sincerity.
“Why would you think that?”
“Well, before it was…well…I suppose it was always a mousey brown and I just hadn’t noticed.”
Both stood awkwardly, Romana’s leg twitching every few seconds with each new bout of bitten-back giggles. Wouldn’t do to embarrass the boy.
He stammered out something about Borusa.
“Borusa?” Her face brightened instantly. “He wants to see me?”
“Yeah, something about a special assignment or something.”
Romana ran panickedly to the mirror, running her fingers through her hair, straightening her collar, which would never do, no, it would never do.
Finally, she sighed and gave up.
“Right,” she said. “I’m off then.”
***
Belying her profession of preparedness, Romana spent another lifetime choosing her clothes, especially the shoes. Romana imagined that, like Borusa, the goddess of fashion suffered no fools either. Especially not during special assignments.
Even putting her most considerable legs to their best use, by the time she got to her new pet aircar (she fancied christening it Nellie) and flew into the carpark she could see Borusa standing there, expressing disapproval in that way only those with ginger hair could, totally off-putting yet utterly sensual.
“Young lady, might I ask where you found that aircar? You’re not supposed to have them until after your time at the academy is complete, as you well know. You couldn’t hold off for one extra day?”
“I got it off of Pip. He parked in front of me a few days ago, took off his clothes and then asked me pleadingly, in a manner which did little to recommend himself, I must say, to take whatever I wanted, and I figured that, given his spectacular debasement, I had to agree to do so…”
Borusa failed to disguise his oncoming choke.
“…and the clothes probably wouldn’t fit me properly.”
He continued to cough and Romana ran over and slapped him on the back.
“I’m sorry, sir, are you unwell? Can I get you something?”
A faintly recovered no sprang from his mouth.
“Right then.” Romana took him at his word and questioned him despite his fetal position. “You wanted me for some special assignment.”
“Mmmmyes…,” croaked Borusa. “Have you heard of…the Doctor?”
Romana’s face fell. “You have GOT to be joking.”
Author: Ikindofrock
Rating: G/PG
Summary: Romana hears about the Doctor before her travels in Key to Time, as per the request by _snakeface.
Word Count: 1586 words or so
**Sorry bout the lateness, life did in fact get in the way**
“Honestly, Pip, if you don’t make more than just a one-hearted attempt to study up on multi-loop stabilizers, you’re going to flunk out of the academy and end up with some dead-end job in the palace guard!”
“Oh stop tetching, madam.”
“Please don’t call me madam,” Romana replied, not sounding terribly bothered. “I haven’t even reached my terrible 200’s yet.”
Pip had no reply but suspected that, even if he did, the only good it would do is add another voice to the inhumanly insufferable academic babble surrounding them.
“What’s so interesting that you’re reading anyways?”
Romana’s eyes had never left her book, a cheery 9000-page tome, Vampires and the Near-Defenestration of the Gallifreyan Landmass in the Days Before the Bowships of Rassilon.
Pip sighed. “By the vagina of Rassilon, even the title’s pretentious.”
***
“You’ve been working for three years in the library and yet you ignore anything that might actually be considered interesting!”
“I have no interest in the work of philistines, Pip. Balderdash and hornswagglers the lot of them, writing tomes about Salyavin and Omega and wearing black robes and berets, pretending to be original.”
Pip sighed as he so often did around her, giving up yet again.
“I wish the Doctor would come round. He’d liven things up, I expect.”
“And who’s the Doctor then? Don’t know why I’m asking, probably just another one of your precious renegades…”
“JUST ANOTHER RENEGADE?!?” If Pip’s eyes could have bulged out anymore his face would have exploded. “He has flair, he has style, he has…”
“An ego the size of a Taran woodbeast, if this is how people always talk about him.”
***
Pip showed up in his aircar to take her to work the next day.
“Lady Romana, welcome to my speed demon of luuuurve.” Before the words were even out of his mouth he rolled his eyes.
“Kindly desist from referring to me as Romana. Nicknames and false titles are for numbskulls with sociopathetic inclinations and massive compensation syndromes.”
“Well those socio..er…compensydromatic…um…well those can’t be worse than Romanadvoratnelundar. Honestly, keep up with that and you’ll never get a date to the academy ball. By the time anyone got through saying your name the sun would have set and the entire universe would have gone to bed.”
“At least I don’t have a foolish moniker like ‘Pip.’ Your mother must still mourn the passing of Filigrippinobejuvinatory.” Romana looked wistful. “That truly is a lovely name.”
“My nickname’s got plenty of class. I’ll have you know that it’s literary. Earth, 18th century, Dickensian.”
“You’ve never been to Earth, and have probably never read Dickens.”
“You don’t know that!”
“He doesn’t have any pictures. And his books tend to be more than 20 pages.”
“Fine, so I haven’t read any Dickens. But the Doctor has. He loves Dickens. Huge fan.”
“I know. He apparently stole the collection before running away.” Romana carefully recorded her arrival in the ledger. “At least he has the decency to worship writers and not renegades.”
She stopped for a minute and looked up.
“What is it with renegades and stealing books from the Panopticon anyways? There must be some invisible sign hanging over it, reading “Please Invade” on Tuesdays and “Please Nick Books and Be an Utter Nuisance” every other Friday. Prevents me from getting enough work hours.”
***
Four hours later, Pip hadn’t left, and Romana felt there wasn’t a single thing she could possibly know about the Doctor apart from perhaps the shoe size of his second regeneration, a fact that made her want to strangle Pip with a giant anorak made out of crushed stones from the Death Zone.
“And then there were the Daleks…”
Snore.
“And Cybermen.”
If she never heard about cyber-anything again it would be too soon. “I’m really not impressed.”
Pip turned away and sulked. “Well, he did manage to get out of here, unlike the rest of us.”
Romana wouldn’t have minded getting out from her current situation either. Perhaps there was some girl who drove the Doctor up the wall and straight off Gallifrey.
“Will you shut up about your blasted Doctor? Besides, we would all be better served following Chancellor Borusa’s example. Look at him, all hardworking, no brooking of fools.”
They both watched as Borusa chased around a poor clerk named Runstable with his head adornment after he didn’t end an address with ‘sir’.
“Yup. I am certainly watching, and seeing an example clearly worth following…” Pip tried to hide his smirk.
Romana did look a bit chagrined, but only a bit. It would never do to show total weakness of opinion.
“…and you know something? I was watching his example yesterday as well, and clearly remember him being not-ginger.”
Romana began to stammer… “well, appearances, they’re not the be all and end all, and well…”
“Oh come on, he’s utterly superficial. And officious. He’s never met a rule that he wouldn’t follow blindly. If Gallifreyan law suddenly required him to obey a murderer, you know he would, no questions asked.”
Romana completely ignored what Pip just said and continued on in rapid soliloquoy, “This constant focus on appearance, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to change it on a whim, you know? Not like any of us will die anytime soon. May as well make use of our physiognomy.”
“Yeah, but…”
“And if you’re bored, or you want to make someone happy, then why not change? Hmm?”
Pip’s face turned to enlightenment and then looked suspicious. “You haven’t done that before have you?”
“No, of course not. But frankly, if I met the right man, I think I would have no problems molding myself into his ideal.”
“Well, you’re hardly unattractive as is. Besides, isn’t that terribly anti-feminist?”
“It would be two-way you know. I’d work into his perfection and he’d have brown spikey hair, wear nice suits and even nicer ties.”
“Sounds like a right arrogant prat to me.”
Romana smiled, her focus far enough away as to be on some other planet. “One can but hope.”
***
A sharp rap on the door aroused Romana from her thesis-induced reverie. She opened the door.
“Did you, um, die your hair, Pip?” Romana squeaked.
Pip blushed and looked away, mumbling oh, of course not, he’d never do anything so superficial that, but with an utter lack of sincerity.
“Why would you think that?”
“Well, before it was…well…I suppose it was always a mousey brown and I just hadn’t noticed.”
Both stood awkwardly, Romana’s leg twitching every few seconds with each new bout of bitten-back giggles. Wouldn’t do to embarrass the boy.
He stammered out something about Borusa.
“Borusa?” Her face brightened instantly. “He wants to see me?”
“Yeah, something about a special assignment or something.”
Romana ran panickedly to the mirror, running her fingers through her hair, straightening her collar, which would never do, no, it would never do.
Finally, she sighed and gave up.
“Right,” she said. “I’m off then.”
***
Belying her profession of preparedness, Romana spent another lifetime choosing her clothes, especially the shoes. Romana imagined that, like Borusa, the goddess of fashion suffered no fools either. Especially not during special assignments.
Even putting her most considerable legs to their best use, by the time she got to her new pet aircar (she fancied christening it Nellie) and flew into the carpark she could see Borusa standing there, expressing disapproval in that way only those with ginger hair could, totally off-putting yet utterly sensual.
“Young lady, might I ask where you found that aircar? You’re not supposed to have them until after your time at the academy is complete, as you well know. You couldn’t hold off for one extra day?”
“I got it off of Pip. He parked in front of me a few days ago, took off his clothes and then asked me pleadingly, in a manner which did little to recommend himself, I must say, to take whatever I wanted, and I figured that, given his spectacular debasement, I had to agree to do so…”
Borusa failed to disguise his oncoming choke.
“…and the clothes probably wouldn’t fit me properly.”
He continued to cough and Romana ran over and slapped him on the back.
“I’m sorry, sir, are you unwell? Can I get you something?”
A faintly recovered no sprang from his mouth.
“Right then.” Romana took him at his word and questioned him despite his fetal position. “You wanted me for some special assignment.”
“Mmmmyes…,” croaked Borusa. “Have you heard of…the Doctor?”
Romana’s face fell. “You have GOT to be joking.”