Seven's Bear
Title: Seven's Bear
Pairing/Warning/Rating: Doctor Who fandom, cute overload warning, rated G
Word Count: 635
Summary: There was a little bear on the TARDIS...
Author's Note: Written by donutsweeper and mad_jaks as commentfic with a conclusion added by rustydog . Art by mad_jaks and rustydog
Now with commentary.
Not that he’d ever tell you about it, but the Doctor had a bear... for weeks after Ace was gone he'd say goodnight to it in passing - it wasn't that he was lonely you understand- it just worried him when he caught himself talking to thin air.
Oh no, he wasn’t lonely at all. As it happened, maybe, just maybe, he'd sometimes prop it up on the TARDIS console when tinkering. And explain to it what he was doing. Because, the bear might want to know. He was just keeping an eye on the thing, mind you. It's not that he needed the company.
It might have been Susan's - he wasn't sure - his memory insisted on playing tricks on him sometimes. She did have a bear but he couldn't remember it being dressed in red and white stripey trousers or having that absurd cap perched between its ears.
(And he certainly had no idea how it came to get out of the third hamper from the floor in the back of the TARDIS wardrobe.)
All in all, it was rather quite silly looking, there was no way anyone he’d known could have ever truly found it endearing. Especially the way the left ear was ever so slightly bent like that, refusing to straighten no matter how many times he tried to stroke it gently back in to place. Yes, it was definitely showing its age - the stitching on its nose was frayed and its smile (what was left of it) was decidedly wonky.
Not that he tried to keep that ear straight, mind you. Presumedly it stood up straight originally and if he were to try to stroke it back in place upon occasion- no stroke is the wrong word- push, yes, push it back he'd be only attempting to bring the bear back to its original luster.
Keeping it in its original luster was important, which was the exact reason he spent three hours on Jorvisndian Prime looking for a solvent that would gently remove the grease stain from its trousers.
Back in the console room with the bottle in his hand he didn't hesitate at all. And if he was being gentle when he laid it down on a fluffy towel spread over the captain's chair that was only because of its very great age and of course the towel was there to stop the once pale gold fur from getting any more dirty.
It wasn’t that it would bother him fur got dirty, per se, but any dirt that got on it might wind up transferring to the console the next time he set the bear there, and the circuitry was delicate and it wouldn't do to get dust particles and muck in it. Really, he was just looking out for the TARDIS, wasn't he? And if the bear's original owner, who ever that was, were to someday return, he wouldn't want them dismayed at the condition of the poor thing.
He'd have to fix its nose, and maybe its smile (sometimes it looks a lot like a smirk) though he seems to think it adds character. And perhaps, after all, a bear (like a Time Lord) shouldn't ever look too pristine - well not after the first eight hundred years or so anyway. It was a knowing smile, all in all, which the Doctor found interesting, like the bear was privy to some secret that he was unaware of. Some days that bothered him, other days it did not.
Maybe he’d leave the smile the way it was, he thought to himself setting the bear back on the console, after all if there was one thing he prided himself on, other than making time for tea and knowing 1001 uses for an umbrella, it was making sure other people's belongings were well-cared-for.
Pairing/Warning/Rating: Doctor Who fandom, cute overload warning, rated G
Word Count: 635
Summary: There was a little bear on the TARDIS...
Author's Note: Written by donutsweeper and mad_jaks as commentfic with a conclusion added by rustydog . Art by mad_jaks and rustydog
Now with commentary.
Not that he’d ever tell you about it, but the Doctor had a bear... for weeks after Ace was gone he'd say goodnight to it in passing - it wasn't that he was lonely you understand- it just worried him when he caught himself talking to thin air.
Oh no, he wasn’t lonely at all. As it happened, maybe, just maybe, he'd sometimes prop it up on the TARDIS console when tinkering. And explain to it what he was doing. Because, the bear might want to know. He was just keeping an eye on the thing, mind you. It's not that he needed the company.
It might have been Susan's - he wasn't sure - his memory insisted on playing tricks on him sometimes. She did have a bear but he couldn't remember it being dressed in red and white stripey trousers or having that absurd cap perched between its ears.
(And he certainly had no idea how it came to get out of the third hamper from the floor in the back of the TARDIS wardrobe.)
All in all, it was rather quite silly looking, there was no way anyone he’d known could have ever truly found it endearing. Especially the way the left ear was ever so slightly bent like that, refusing to straighten no matter how many times he tried to stroke it gently back in to place. Yes, it was definitely showing its age - the stitching on its nose was frayed and its smile (what was left of it) was decidedly wonky.
Not that he tried to keep that ear straight, mind you. Presumedly it stood up straight originally and if he were to try to stroke it back in place upon occasion- no stroke is the wrong word- push, yes, push it back he'd be only attempting to bring the bear back to its original luster.
Keeping it in its original luster was important, which was the exact reason he spent three hours on Jorvisndian Prime looking for a solvent that would gently remove the grease stain from its trousers.
Back in the console room with the bottle in his hand he didn't hesitate at all. And if he was being gentle when he laid it down on a fluffy towel spread over the captain's chair that was only because of its very great age and of course the towel was there to stop the once pale gold fur from getting any more dirty.
It wasn’t that it would bother him fur got dirty, per se, but any dirt that got on it might wind up transferring to the console the next time he set the bear there, and the circuitry was delicate and it wouldn't do to get dust particles and muck in it. Really, he was just looking out for the TARDIS, wasn't he? And if the bear's original owner, who ever that was, were to someday return, he wouldn't want them dismayed at the condition of the poor thing.
He'd have to fix its nose, and maybe its smile (sometimes it looks a lot like a smirk) though he seems to think it adds character. And perhaps, after all, a bear (like a Time Lord) shouldn't ever look too pristine - well not after the first eight hundred years or so anyway. It was a knowing smile, all in all, which the Doctor found interesting, like the bear was privy to some secret that he was unaware of. Some days that bothered him, other days it did not.
Maybe he’d leave the smile the way it was, he thought to himself setting the bear back on the console, after all if there was one thing he prided himself on, other than making time for tea and knowing 1001 uses for an umbrella, it was making sure other people's belongings were well-cared-for.