Fic: The Mysterious Twig
The Mysterious Twig
by me, doctorpancakes
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Five/Turlough, Tegan; mentions of Two/Jamie
Rating: PG
Word Count: 967
Warnings: Feels
Author's Note: A Christmas fic present. Follows An Uncommon Education, but not heavy on the continuity.
Turlough was blessed with what he felt to be an impressive knowledge of the TARDIS’ inner workings, but even he could make neither head nor tail of the gobbledigook the scanners were feeding back to him. Furthermore, he had no interest in spending the day in the engine room, watching the Doctor tinkering and muttering to himself, his presence only acknowledged when the Doctor needed Turlough to hand him a spanner. It was a silly Earth holiday called Christmas, as far as Turlough could recall, and while he had hoped to spend the day with the Doctor, he had rather envisioned it more along the lines of being curled up together by the fireplace in the library, drinking endless cups of hot tea, while Tegan did something fun quietly without interrupting them at all. Instead, Turlough found himself met with the sort of data that either meant they were passing through some kind of extremely dangerous distortion, or that the TARDIS had developed a serious flaw, while Tegan read scornfully (or at least as scornfully as anyone could read, as far as Turlough could tell) across the room.
“Tegan, come have a look at this reading,” he said, as he attempted to puzzle out the problem.
“Yeah, nice try,” Tegan scoffed.
“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I think there’s a bug in one of the scanners, I need you to take a look.”
“Turlough, if you think I’m going to stand under that blasted mistletoe with you, you can go boil your head,” she scowled at him.
“Why not?” he asked. Perhaps Tegan was in one of her moods. He knew that she did not like him very much, but he thought - hoped - that they had moved on, maybe even become friends.
“Well, for one thing, you’re sleeping with the Doctor,” she said.
“The Doctor and I have a relationship, Tegan,” he clarified with no small amount of irritation, “which, I might add, has nothing to do with the scanner.”
“Oh, come off it. I need a cup of tea,” she grumbled, setting aside her book as she walked to the door.
“I just need someone to look at this reading!” protested Turlough, half sobbing in confused exasperation.
“Don’t be stupid, Turlough. Mistletoe,” Tegan sighed, pointing to a bit of a plant that hung from the ceiling above him, before leaving the room.
“Missile… toe?” he glanced at the curious twig that hung overhead. Perhaps she was allergic, he thought. But then, why would she not have said so? “And Tegan says I’m weird.”
---
A few minutes passed before the Doctor came smiling into the console room, humming something about sleigh bells.
“Ah! There you are, Turlough,” smiled the Doctor, clasping his hands. “Now, since it’s Christmas, I’ve us got chestnut cake, mince pies, and sticky gingerbread. What do you think?”
“Doctor, what’s this missile toe plant doing hanging from the ceiling?” he asked, gazing uneasily upwards.
“Mistletoe is an Earth tradition,” explained the Doctor. “You hang it at Christmas time, and if someone stands under it with you, you have to kiss.”
“Oh I see,” nodded Turlough. “Well, that certainly explains why Tegan wouldn’t take a look at the scanners with me, doesn’t it? Oh dear.”
“Yes, quite,” agreed the Doctor, adjusting his celery with a nervous cringe. “It’s funny, I’m surprised you’d never heard of mistletoe while you were at Brendon.”
“Well, I did go to an all-boys school,” reasoned Turlough. “And I’m pretty sure kissing was frowned upon for some reason. They didn’t tend to encourage fraternization.”
“Yes, I suppose they wouldn’t,” mused the Doctor. “Silly.”
“Anyways, why have we got one up here?” asked Turlough.
“Well, I guess it became a bit of a tradition, ever since Jamie…” the Doctor trailed off, as though unsure he wanted to remember.
“Jamie,” repeated Turlough. The Doctor had mentioned the name a few times here and there, but Turlough always felt it prudent not to press for details.
“I was always very fond of Jamie,” the Doctor whispered, almost to himself. “My brave, beautiful Jamie.”
“You still miss him, don’t you?” Turlough hesitated to ask, stopping short of placing a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder.
“Always,” sighed the Doctor. “You never really stop missing the people you love.”
“I know,” said Turlough. He knew it well. Turlough missed his family - probably all dead - and his home, where he was no longer welcome. At least the Doctor understood, and Tegan would, in time. At least they had each other, and that was something. It was something good.
“But that’s... that’s all a very long time ago now,” said the Doctor, shaking it off with a sad smile. “Mince pie?”
There was something Turlough knew he had meant to mention, something important, much more so than pies and puddings. Then he remembered.
“Doctor! I’d completely forgotten about the reading!” exclaimed Turlough, having suddenly remembered the potential emergency that had started his ridiculous adventure in the first place. “Either something’s terribly wrong with the TARDIS scanner, or we’re in danger!”
The Doctor scrutinized the reading for a moment. “Ah,” he said, with a decisive nod. “It does that sometimes. You just have to give it a good bang.”
And with that, the Doctor slammed the heel of his palm against the console, and the scanner reading jumped back to normal.
“So, it was just that simple, after all?” squinted Turlough.
“Just that simple,” replied the Doctor, resting his hand on Turlough’s shoulder. “And you know, we are standing under that mistletoe, so if you wanted...”
“Oh, I want,” Turlough smiled, winding his arms around the Doctor’s waist. “And it is tradition, after all.”
by me, doctorpancakes
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Five/Turlough, Tegan; mentions of Two/Jamie
Rating: PG
Word Count: 967
Warnings: Feels
Author's Note: A Christmas fic present. Follows An Uncommon Education, but not heavy on the continuity.
Turlough was blessed with what he felt to be an impressive knowledge of the TARDIS’ inner workings, but even he could make neither head nor tail of the gobbledigook the scanners were feeding back to him. Furthermore, he had no interest in spending the day in the engine room, watching the Doctor tinkering and muttering to himself, his presence only acknowledged when the Doctor needed Turlough to hand him a spanner. It was a silly Earth holiday called Christmas, as far as Turlough could recall, and while he had hoped to spend the day with the Doctor, he had rather envisioned it more along the lines of being curled up together by the fireplace in the library, drinking endless cups of hot tea, while Tegan did something fun quietly without interrupting them at all. Instead, Turlough found himself met with the sort of data that either meant they were passing through some kind of extremely dangerous distortion, or that the TARDIS had developed a serious flaw, while Tegan read scornfully (or at least as scornfully as anyone could read, as far as Turlough could tell) across the room.
“Tegan, come have a look at this reading,” he said, as he attempted to puzzle out the problem.
“Yeah, nice try,” Tegan scoffed.
“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I think there’s a bug in one of the scanners, I need you to take a look.”
“Turlough, if you think I’m going to stand under that blasted mistletoe with you, you can go boil your head,” she scowled at him.
“Why not?” he asked. Perhaps Tegan was in one of her moods. He knew that she did not like him very much, but he thought - hoped - that they had moved on, maybe even become friends.
“Well, for one thing, you’re sleeping with the Doctor,” she said.
“The Doctor and I have a relationship, Tegan,” he clarified with no small amount of irritation, “which, I might add, has nothing to do with the scanner.”
“Oh, come off it. I need a cup of tea,” she grumbled, setting aside her book as she walked to the door.
“I just need someone to look at this reading!” protested Turlough, half sobbing in confused exasperation.
“Don’t be stupid, Turlough. Mistletoe,” Tegan sighed, pointing to a bit of a plant that hung from the ceiling above him, before leaving the room.
“Missile… toe?” he glanced at the curious twig that hung overhead. Perhaps she was allergic, he thought. But then, why would she not have said so? “And Tegan says I’m weird.”
---
A few minutes passed before the Doctor came smiling into the console room, humming something about sleigh bells.
“Ah! There you are, Turlough,” smiled the Doctor, clasping his hands. “Now, since it’s Christmas, I’ve us got chestnut cake, mince pies, and sticky gingerbread. What do you think?”
“Doctor, what’s this missile toe plant doing hanging from the ceiling?” he asked, gazing uneasily upwards.
“Mistletoe is an Earth tradition,” explained the Doctor. “You hang it at Christmas time, and if someone stands under it with you, you have to kiss.”
“Oh I see,” nodded Turlough. “Well, that certainly explains why Tegan wouldn’t take a look at the scanners with me, doesn’t it? Oh dear.”
“Yes, quite,” agreed the Doctor, adjusting his celery with a nervous cringe. “It’s funny, I’m surprised you’d never heard of mistletoe while you were at Brendon.”
“Well, I did go to an all-boys school,” reasoned Turlough. “And I’m pretty sure kissing was frowned upon for some reason. They didn’t tend to encourage fraternization.”
“Yes, I suppose they wouldn’t,” mused the Doctor. “Silly.”
“Anyways, why have we got one up here?” asked Turlough.
“Well, I guess it became a bit of a tradition, ever since Jamie…” the Doctor trailed off, as though unsure he wanted to remember.
“Jamie,” repeated Turlough. The Doctor had mentioned the name a few times here and there, but Turlough always felt it prudent not to press for details.
“I was always very fond of Jamie,” the Doctor whispered, almost to himself. “My brave, beautiful Jamie.”
“You still miss him, don’t you?” Turlough hesitated to ask, stopping short of placing a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder.
“Always,” sighed the Doctor. “You never really stop missing the people you love.”
“I know,” said Turlough. He knew it well. Turlough missed his family - probably all dead - and his home, where he was no longer welcome. At least the Doctor understood, and Tegan would, in time. At least they had each other, and that was something. It was something good.
“But that’s... that’s all a very long time ago now,” said the Doctor, shaking it off with a sad smile. “Mince pie?”
There was something Turlough knew he had meant to mention, something important, much more so than pies and puddings. Then he remembered.
“Doctor! I’d completely forgotten about the reading!” exclaimed Turlough, having suddenly remembered the potential emergency that had started his ridiculous adventure in the first place. “Either something’s terribly wrong with the TARDIS scanner, or we’re in danger!”
The Doctor scrutinized the reading for a moment. “Ah,” he said, with a decisive nod. “It does that sometimes. You just have to give it a good bang.”
And with that, the Doctor slammed the heel of his palm against the console, and the scanner reading jumped back to normal.
“So, it was just that simple, after all?” squinted Turlough.
“Just that simple,” replied the Doctor, resting his hand on Turlough’s shoulder. “And you know, we are standing under that mistletoe, so if you wanted...”
“Oh, I want,” Turlough smiled, winding his arms around the Doctor’s waist. “And it is tradition, after all.”