Auction Fic: Bananas Are Good
Story: Bananas Are Good
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, a banana
Rated: G
Summary: Bananas are good?
Written for katherine_b in grateful appreciation of her participation as a member of Wiggie's Posse in the last Support Stacie auction. So sorry that it's taken me so long to write your fic! With many thanks to fordark_aegis for BRing.
Bananas Are Good
“You said... travel anywhere in... time and space,” Rose shouts, panting as she pounds the concrete alongside the Doctor. “Didn’t say anything about... running for our lives!”
He turns mid-stride and grins at her. Bastard - he’s not even breathing heavily. “That a problem?”
“Only if... I get eaten!” She glances back over her shoulder. The ten-foot-tall creature - a Volpean, the Doctor told her - is still just a few yards behind them, pounding along, its scales wobbling with every step. It’s slavering as it runs, drool dripping from its mouth. It would see humans as a nice afternoon snack, the Doctor said, all tasty and crunchy and full of nutrients.
“What’s wrong with that?” the Doctor demanded when she gave him a horrified look. “You eat chicken, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but what’s that-”
“You think the chicken enjoys it?” he threw back at her, before grabbing her hand and telling her to run.
“We’re not getting away from him!” she yells now. They’re more or less trapped, running around in circles through the corridors of the huge warehouse-like building they oh-so-casually wandered into half an hour ago to explore. Yeah, right. They explored a corner at the back of a huge open space, and apparently woke the Volpean from hibernation.
It was the Doctor’s fault, of course. He would have to wave the sonic around, proving to her that it really can warp steel and drill holes in wood. It did both, all right. It also made an annoying buzzing sound that echoed all around the cavernous room - and woke up the Volpean long before its scheduled time.
It’s pissed off and hungry, not the best combination.
They would be fine if they could get to the TARDIS, but of course the TARDIS is outside and they’re inside. The Doctor insists that he remembers where the door is, but they’ve been running for almost ten minutes and they haven’t found it yet.
“It’s down there, isn’t it?” she shouts as they come to another corridor.
“Nope!” he responds cheerfully, turning left instead of right. “This way!”
“Gonna kill you when... we get back... to the TARDIS,” she mutters, almost sliding into the turn and then trying to increase her speed to keep up with the Doctor.
The Volpean, all ten wobbly blue feet of him, turns the corner behind them and lets out a loud roar. A gobbet of saliva lands on her hair. “Eww!”
The Doctor glances back again. “Oh, don’t be so squeamish! It won’t hurt you.”
“You let it spit on you, then!” she yells back. “It stinks!”
He smirks. “Just like your mother, you are. Moan, moan, moan. No appreciation for the fantastic places I take you to.”
Yeah, right. She’d give him a sarcastic comeback, but she’s too out of breath. Instead, she compiles a list of all the ways she’ll get her revenge once they’re back in the TARDIS. She’ll forget to put sugar in his tea. She could accidentally put his jumpers in the hot wash - oh, yeah, shrunken they’ll look even better on him. And top of the list: hide that bloody screwdriver.
A massive roar from too close behind her makes her forget about her plans. “Doctor, bloody well do something!” She pushes herself to another burst of speed, ignoring the burning in her calves.
“I’m thinking!”
“Well, think faster, then!”
They round another corner, the Volpean about four paces behind them. Immediately, the Doctor wrenches at her arm. “In here!” He pulls her into a small office and immediately shuts the door.
“What’s the point of coming in here?” She takes in the room - smaller than her bedroom at home, with no other exit, not even a window. “It’ll follow us in-”
“Wait.” He’s digging ferociously through his jacket pockets, taking out things that shouldn’t possibly fit in there. “Hold out your hands.”
Automatically, she does, and he starts piling the contents of his pockets onto them. A notebook, dice, a tennis ball, a calculator, a ratty old paper bag that’s got something sticky in it - sweets, maybe? - a catapult, several stones, some kind of robot insect, a stethoscope, various unrecognisable coins, a handkerchief covered in muddy smears, a soft toy and more.
The floor shakes as the Volpean runs past. They’re safe for now - but that’ll only last as long as it doesn’t realise they’ve hidden. It’ll backtrack and come looking for them. Whatever the Doctor’s up to, this better be good.
“How’d you get all that stuff in there?”
“Bigger on the inside, what d’you think?” He flashes a quick grin at her, then notices what he’s got in his hand. “Fantastic.”
“Eh?” He’s holding a banana.
“This should do it. Come on!”
He shoves the banana in the top pocket of his jacket, grabs the stuff she’s holding and jams it back into his other pockets, then takes her hand and runs out of the office again. Once in the hallway, he drops her hand, sticks two fingers into his mouth and whistles.
“Are you insane?” she demands. Why the hell aren’t they running for the door? She knows where they are now, after all. The door’s straight ahead.
Because the Volpean is standing right by the exit, looking around in confusion, she realises. And now it’s spotted them and it’s running straight at them.
“Doctor!”
As she looks at him, wondering what his next bright idea is, he starts peeling the banana. “Doctor, this isn’t the best time for a snack!” she objects.
He shakes his head. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
He shoves half of the banana into his mouth, then grabs her hand and runs at the Volpean. And, while the sane part of her wants to break away from him and run for her life in the opposite direction, the part of her that’s addicted to the Doctor and his crazy adventures tells her that she trusts him completely.
She trusts him. So she runs with him.
The Volpean roars, waving its scaly tentacles. Spittle flies everywhere.
The Doctor throws the other half of the banana through the air, over the Volpean’s head, and it lands a few yards away, on the other side of the door. “Go on, get it,” he yells encouragingly around the banana in his mouth. “Yum yum! Nice banana!”
The Volpean hesitates, turning to look at the half-banana lying on the floor. For a couple of seconds, it swivels its head, looking from the two of them to the banana and back again. It sniffs, its nostrils flaring. Then it roars and lumbers off down the corridor towards the banana.
The Doctor lets go of her hand and drops to his haunches. In his hands, he’s got the catapult and the banana peel. One lightning-fast shot and the peel is on the floor in front of the Volpean, now munching on the banana.
“Oi! Come an’ get us!” the Doctor shouts.
The Volpean breaks into a run. The Doctor grabs her hand and runs as well - towards it. Her heart pounds as she runs with him. They’re getting closer to the exit, but also to the Volpean - it’s less than twenty feet from them, and they’re still about ten feet from the door.
And then the Volpean’s foot lands on the banana peel. It wobbles, roars, sways back and forth and lands on its front with a thump.
Rose reaches for the bar on the door, wrenches it open and runs outside into the fresh, Volpean-free air. Safe at last.
The Doctor follows her out, slams the door and locks it with the sonic screwdriver.
Breathing heavily, her heart still pounding, she stares at him. He stares back, and a wide grin splits his face. She can’t help it. She bursts out laughing.
He swallows then, and she realises he’s still eating the banana. His eyebrows lift, and a surprised look crosses his face. “What?” she asks.
His head tilts to one side. “Haven’t eaten a banana in... oh, centuries. Didn’t like ‘em last time.”
“Oh? And now?” So what was he doing with a banana in his pocket, then? But she decides that’s probably one of the questions it’s best not to ask the Doctor. Not unless she wants an explanation that lasts from now until bedtime.
He grins again. “Now? Bananas are good!”
- end
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, a banana
Rated: G
Summary: Bananas are good?
Written for katherine_b in grateful appreciation of her participation as a member of Wiggie's Posse in the last Support Stacie auction. So sorry that it's taken me so long to write your fic! With many thanks to fordark_aegis for BRing.
Bananas Are Good
“You said... travel anywhere in... time and space,” Rose shouts, panting as she pounds the concrete alongside the Doctor. “Didn’t say anything about... running for our lives!”
He turns mid-stride and grins at her. Bastard - he’s not even breathing heavily. “That a problem?”
“Only if... I get eaten!” She glances back over her shoulder. The ten-foot-tall creature - a Volpean, the Doctor told her - is still just a few yards behind them, pounding along, its scales wobbling with every step. It’s slavering as it runs, drool dripping from its mouth. It would see humans as a nice afternoon snack, the Doctor said, all tasty and crunchy and full of nutrients.
“What’s wrong with that?” the Doctor demanded when she gave him a horrified look. “You eat chicken, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but what’s that-”
“You think the chicken enjoys it?” he threw back at her, before grabbing her hand and telling her to run.
“We’re not getting away from him!” she yells now. They’re more or less trapped, running around in circles through the corridors of the huge warehouse-like building they oh-so-casually wandered into half an hour ago to explore. Yeah, right. They explored a corner at the back of a huge open space, and apparently woke the Volpean from hibernation.
It was the Doctor’s fault, of course. He would have to wave the sonic around, proving to her that it really can warp steel and drill holes in wood. It did both, all right. It also made an annoying buzzing sound that echoed all around the cavernous room - and woke up the Volpean long before its scheduled time.
It’s pissed off and hungry, not the best combination.
They would be fine if they could get to the TARDIS, but of course the TARDIS is outside and they’re inside. The Doctor insists that he remembers where the door is, but they’ve been running for almost ten minutes and they haven’t found it yet.
“It’s down there, isn’t it?” she shouts as they come to another corridor.
“Nope!” he responds cheerfully, turning left instead of right. “This way!”
“Gonna kill you when... we get back... to the TARDIS,” she mutters, almost sliding into the turn and then trying to increase her speed to keep up with the Doctor.
The Volpean, all ten wobbly blue feet of him, turns the corner behind them and lets out a loud roar. A gobbet of saliva lands on her hair. “Eww!”
The Doctor glances back again. “Oh, don’t be so squeamish! It won’t hurt you.”
“You let it spit on you, then!” she yells back. “It stinks!”
He smirks. “Just like your mother, you are. Moan, moan, moan. No appreciation for the fantastic places I take you to.”
Yeah, right. She’d give him a sarcastic comeback, but she’s too out of breath. Instead, she compiles a list of all the ways she’ll get her revenge once they’re back in the TARDIS. She’ll forget to put sugar in his tea. She could accidentally put his jumpers in the hot wash - oh, yeah, shrunken they’ll look even better on him. And top of the list: hide that bloody screwdriver.
A massive roar from too close behind her makes her forget about her plans. “Doctor, bloody well do something!” She pushes herself to another burst of speed, ignoring the burning in her calves.
“I’m thinking!”
“Well, think faster, then!”
They round another corner, the Volpean about four paces behind them. Immediately, the Doctor wrenches at her arm. “In here!” He pulls her into a small office and immediately shuts the door.
“What’s the point of coming in here?” She takes in the room - smaller than her bedroom at home, with no other exit, not even a window. “It’ll follow us in-”
“Wait.” He’s digging ferociously through his jacket pockets, taking out things that shouldn’t possibly fit in there. “Hold out your hands.”
Automatically, she does, and he starts piling the contents of his pockets onto them. A notebook, dice, a tennis ball, a calculator, a ratty old paper bag that’s got something sticky in it - sweets, maybe? - a catapult, several stones, some kind of robot insect, a stethoscope, various unrecognisable coins, a handkerchief covered in muddy smears, a soft toy and more.
The floor shakes as the Volpean runs past. They’re safe for now - but that’ll only last as long as it doesn’t realise they’ve hidden. It’ll backtrack and come looking for them. Whatever the Doctor’s up to, this better be good.
“How’d you get all that stuff in there?”
“Bigger on the inside, what d’you think?” He flashes a quick grin at her, then notices what he’s got in his hand. “Fantastic.”
“Eh?” He’s holding a banana.
“This should do it. Come on!”
He shoves the banana in the top pocket of his jacket, grabs the stuff she’s holding and jams it back into his other pockets, then takes her hand and runs out of the office again. Once in the hallway, he drops her hand, sticks two fingers into his mouth and whistles.
“Are you insane?” she demands. Why the hell aren’t they running for the door? She knows where they are now, after all. The door’s straight ahead.
Because the Volpean is standing right by the exit, looking around in confusion, she realises. And now it’s spotted them and it’s running straight at them.
“Doctor!”
As she looks at him, wondering what his next bright idea is, he starts peeling the banana. “Doctor, this isn’t the best time for a snack!” she objects.
He shakes his head. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
He shoves half of the banana into his mouth, then grabs her hand and runs at the Volpean. And, while the sane part of her wants to break away from him and run for her life in the opposite direction, the part of her that’s addicted to the Doctor and his crazy adventures tells her that she trusts him completely.
She trusts him. So she runs with him.
The Volpean roars, waving its scaly tentacles. Spittle flies everywhere.
The Doctor throws the other half of the banana through the air, over the Volpean’s head, and it lands a few yards away, on the other side of the door. “Go on, get it,” he yells encouragingly around the banana in his mouth. “Yum yum! Nice banana!”
The Volpean hesitates, turning to look at the half-banana lying on the floor. For a couple of seconds, it swivels its head, looking from the two of them to the banana and back again. It sniffs, its nostrils flaring. Then it roars and lumbers off down the corridor towards the banana.
The Doctor lets go of her hand and drops to his haunches. In his hands, he’s got the catapult and the banana peel. One lightning-fast shot and the peel is on the floor in front of the Volpean, now munching on the banana.
“Oi! Come an’ get us!” the Doctor shouts.
The Volpean breaks into a run. The Doctor grabs her hand and runs as well - towards it. Her heart pounds as she runs with him. They’re getting closer to the exit, but also to the Volpean - it’s less than twenty feet from them, and they’re still about ten feet from the door.
And then the Volpean’s foot lands on the banana peel. It wobbles, roars, sways back and forth and lands on its front with a thump.
Rose reaches for the bar on the door, wrenches it open and runs outside into the fresh, Volpean-free air. Safe at last.
The Doctor follows her out, slams the door and locks it with the sonic screwdriver.
Breathing heavily, her heart still pounding, she stares at him. He stares back, and a wide grin splits his face. She can’t help it. She bursts out laughing.
He swallows then, and she realises he’s still eating the banana. His eyebrows lift, and a surprised look crosses his face. “What?” she asks.
His head tilts to one side. “Haven’t eaten a banana in... oh, centuries. Didn’t like ‘em last time.”
“Oh? And now?” So what was he doing with a banana in his pocket, then? But she decides that’s probably one of the questions it’s best not to ask the Doctor. Not unless she wants an explanation that lasts from now until bedtime.
He grins again. “Now? Bananas are good!”
- end