Fic: Saying Hello for the Second Time (X-Men: First Class/Doctor Who, PG)
title: Saying Hello for the Second Time
author: ilovetakahana
word count: 657
fandoms: X-Men: First Class [movieverse], Doctor Who
pairing: Charles/Erik [as Doctor/TARDIS]
notes: An AU inspired by this photo of Michael Fassbender, in which I immediately declared him to be the male version of Idris, from Doctor Who 6.04 "The Doctor's Wife". Charles is, of course, the Twelfth Doctor. Written with and for pearljamz.
Also archived at http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org.
He’s been wandering for a long time, without adventures or companions. The last incarnation had been everywhere, out saving worlds and lives, and now that he’s here, now that he has a little time to breathe, he’s resting.
He first sees this particular version of the TARDIS in the first few minutes after his regeneration. He’s still leaking energy, he’s still shaking, when there’s a voice in the console room.
“That was well done.”
“Glad you think so,” he says, and he runs his hands through his hair, feels it sticking up in places. “I’m afraid I rather bollocksed it all up.”
“No, you didn’t. You were magnificent, as always.”
“How would you know?” he asks, crossly, and he looks up, and he almost feels his hearts stop in shock.
Because he remembers that golden light vividly. He’s dreamed of it. Golden light, and the woman whispering to him, saying hello and goodbye and I love you. Calling him her thief.
Here, now, in that golden light, stands - someone else. Not Idris, but someone cast in the same mold: similar cheekbones, those same startling eyes. A smile that brings out the lines in his face. He is wearing a suit with tattered and fraying cuffs. Barefoot.
The Doctor smiles, then, and holds out his hands, and the man snorts out a laugh, picks him up easily from off the floor.
“I would know,” the man says, “because I was there. I was watching all of it. I was trying to help you, wasn’t I? Still an idiot, but you’re lucky you’re still beautiful.”
Yes. It’s you. “What do I call you now?” the Doctor asks.
The man thinks about that for a moment. “Tad is a good name,” he says, and he smiles again, and goodness, he has a lot of teeth in this incarnation, doesn’t he? “Hello, again. Doctor.”
“Hello, Tad.”
“I can’t always be here with you,” Tad says, later, “not this way, because it’s hard on both of us - but I will be here when you need me.” He reaches up and taps the glass of the control column, and it rings softly under his hands. “And, of course, I want you to talk to me, like you always do. I’m always listening to you; I like hearing your voice.”
“That’s kind of unfair, isn’t it?” And the Doctor chuckles mildly. “Because I, too, enjoy your company very much. We haven’t even had that many conversations yet.”
Tad actually blushes, and, fascinated, he puts out a hand to that cheek. Stubble under his fingertips. “I am sorry for that, Doctor.”
“Oh, shush.”
After a moment he realizes he still has his hand on Tad’s cheek, and Tad is still staring at him and he is staring back, and finally, he rolls his eyes and reels the other man in. “I...well, the other me...was once kissed by...the other you.”
“You didn’t even have to ask, Doctor,” Tad says, and they crash into each other.
When he opens his eyes, he’s alone, and the room glows, and he allows himself a sigh and a smile and he runs his hands over the many switches and knobs, over the glass surface of one of the viewscreens.
He closes his eyes and imagines grey eyes looking back out at him.
///
Later still, after a lot of running
He closes his eyes and he snaps his fingers. The doors swing inward. Soft click of the lock.
He reaches out one hand. The console under his fingertips, a gentle faint warmth pulsing into him.
I know you can hear me, he thinks. Where do you want to take me this time? Where are we needed?
In his mind’s eye, he sees him: frayed suit, dark ginger hair, deep grey eyes. His wide smile, kind and playful.
The Doctor shoots his cuffs and rebuttons his cardigan; he opens his eyes and smiles up at the control column of the TARDIS.
author: ilovetakahana
word count: 657
fandoms: X-Men: First Class [movieverse], Doctor Who
pairing: Charles/Erik [as Doctor/TARDIS]
notes: An AU inspired by this photo of Michael Fassbender, in which I immediately declared him to be the male version of Idris, from Doctor Who 6.04 "The Doctor's Wife". Charles is, of course, the Twelfth Doctor. Written with and for pearljamz.
Also archived at http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org.
He’s been wandering for a long time, without adventures or companions. The last incarnation had been everywhere, out saving worlds and lives, and now that he’s here, now that he has a little time to breathe, he’s resting.
He first sees this particular version of the TARDIS in the first few minutes after his regeneration. He’s still leaking energy, he’s still shaking, when there’s a voice in the console room.
“That was well done.”
“Glad you think so,” he says, and he runs his hands through his hair, feels it sticking up in places. “I’m afraid I rather bollocksed it all up.”
“No, you didn’t. You were magnificent, as always.”
“How would you know?” he asks, crossly, and he looks up, and he almost feels his hearts stop in shock.
Because he remembers that golden light vividly. He’s dreamed of it. Golden light, and the woman whispering to him, saying hello and goodbye and I love you. Calling him her thief.
Here, now, in that golden light, stands - someone else. Not Idris, but someone cast in the same mold: similar cheekbones, those same startling eyes. A smile that brings out the lines in his face. He is wearing a suit with tattered and fraying cuffs. Barefoot.
The Doctor smiles, then, and holds out his hands, and the man snorts out a laugh, picks him up easily from off the floor.
“I would know,” the man says, “because I was there. I was watching all of it. I was trying to help you, wasn’t I? Still an idiot, but you’re lucky you’re still beautiful.”
Yes. It’s you. “What do I call you now?” the Doctor asks.
The man thinks about that for a moment. “Tad is a good name,” he says, and he smiles again, and goodness, he has a lot of teeth in this incarnation, doesn’t he? “Hello, again. Doctor.”
“Hello, Tad.”
“I can’t always be here with you,” Tad says, later, “not this way, because it’s hard on both of us - but I will be here when you need me.” He reaches up and taps the glass of the control column, and it rings softly under his hands. “And, of course, I want you to talk to me, like you always do. I’m always listening to you; I like hearing your voice.”
“That’s kind of unfair, isn’t it?” And the Doctor chuckles mildly. “Because I, too, enjoy your company very much. We haven’t even had that many conversations yet.”
Tad actually blushes, and, fascinated, he puts out a hand to that cheek. Stubble under his fingertips. “I am sorry for that, Doctor.”
“Oh, shush.”
After a moment he realizes he still has his hand on Tad’s cheek, and Tad is still staring at him and he is staring back, and finally, he rolls his eyes and reels the other man in. “I...well, the other me...was once kissed by...the other you.”
“You didn’t even have to ask, Doctor,” Tad says, and they crash into each other.
When he opens his eyes, he’s alone, and the room glows, and he allows himself a sigh and a smile and he runs his hands over the many switches and knobs, over the glass surface of one of the viewscreens.
He closes his eyes and imagines grey eyes looking back out at him.
///
Later still, after a lot of running
He closes his eyes and he snaps his fingers. The doors swing inward. Soft click of the lock.
He reaches out one hand. The console under his fingertips, a gentle faint warmth pulsing into him.
I know you can hear me, he thinks. Where do you want to take me this time? Where are we needed?
In his mind’s eye, he sees him: frayed suit, dark ginger hair, deep grey eyes. His wide smile, kind and playful.
The Doctor shoots his cuffs and rebuttons his cardigan; he opens his eyes and smiles up at the control column of the TARDIS.