Fic: Implausiblity Tale
Title: Implausiblity Tale
Author: kkglinka
Rating: PG for rude jokes.
Characters: Doctor Who: 7doc, 3doc, Jo, Ace, Benny, Brigadier, UNIT
Summary: Improbable random crossover event.
Warning: Contains indiscriminate jokes about sex.
Spoilers: None. AU.
Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart was sitting at his desk, having another pointless argument with the Doctor, a tall white haired fellow in froofy clothing. Between them, in a chair, was a young, blond haired woman. She blinked a lot.
The Doctor pulled a face and theatrically threw aside his red silk lined opera cape. "I would never voluntarily associate with you military types, Brigadier! But no, I'm trapped here, surrounded by fools who think violence is the solution to any and every problem. It's insane!"
Jo, the young woman, looked at him and blinked.
A great temporal fart filled the room, sounding a bit like silly string, set on fire and thrown inside an ant house. Or perhaps like a broken piano. Either way, a familiar blue police box appeared in the office. Half of it superimposed itself on a staff desk and the Brigadier wondered if that portion of the desk continued to exist. Perhaps once this TARDIS left (they invariably did) the desk would keel over without support. Damned expensive Time Lords.
The Brigadier stood. "I say, not again. Which one is it this time?"
The Doctor (third incarnation) fluttered his cape, then crossed his arms mulishly. "Now see here, there are laws against this sort of thing!"
Another Doctor exited the TARDIS, followed by two women. This incarnation wore a rumpled white suit, complete with a jade broach and fedora.
Jo blinked. "Look, Doctor! A pimp daddy!"
"Quiet, Jo."
One of the women wore, what appeared to be, slightly mismatched clothing, tailored for a man. Her tie was unfastened and a pith helmet perched askew on her head. She waved. The other woman wore scandalously tight black body armor. She was festooned by weaponry. She waved too.
Jo waved back.
The new Doctor (seventh incarnation) made a moue. "Oh dear. This isn't right."
The woman in black grinned. "Hey Brig."
The Brigadier sniffed. "Have we met?"
"Not yet."
"This is intolerable." He sniffed louder, wiggled his mustache, glared at the third Doctor and held his riding crop behind his back.
"Indeed," chimed in both Doctors.
"I think I'll go ahead and take the proactive approach." The odd woman sashayed, and that was the only word for it, up to Benton. "Hello, handsome. I'm Bernice, but my friends call me Benny. And you?"
"Sergeant Benton. I'm sorry, ma'am, but I shouldn't be speaking to you unless the Brigadier says otherwise." The tall, broad shouldered soldier raised his chin, averting his eyes.
"Bother." Bernice found a cup of tea sitting on the table and took a sip. It was plain and still warm. She considered the reluctant man before appraising the remaining occupants. A thin aesthetic man with dark hair wore captain's bars. There was the older officer, who Ace seemed to know, an owlish young lady and an elderly gentlemen who seemed to have the Doctor's lack of fashion sense.
Meanwhile, the Brigadier watched the woman in black approach Jo. He wiggled his mustache again, hoping one of the Doctors would notice his displeasure. It was distasteful to state the obvious. The woman poked Jo in the shoulder, then passed a hand slowly in front of her face to elicit a response.
Jo blinked. "Hello. I'm Jo."
"Do you work in a button factory?"
"No. I work for UNIT. We fight alien invaders but, mostly, I get caught."
"Uh huh. I'm Ace. So, you the Doctor's companion?"
"Yes."
"You ever been in his TARDIS?"
"Oh, lots of times."
"And has he ever touched you-"
The seventh Doctor frowned ferociously and reprimanded, "Ace!"
"Sorry." Ace threw him a cheeky grin over her shoulder.
Jo, "Yes, but-"
The third Doctor mimicked the seventh's expression, "Jo!"
The Brigadier slapped his desk with the riding crop, "Doctor!"
The Doctors swiveled their heads in his direction and replied in unison, "Ignore her."
From the corner of his eye, he could see the woman named Bernice cornering Captain Yates. Oh dear.
She slid onto a staff desk. "So, uh, you're a Captain, eh?"
Yates cleared his throat, muttering, "Oh dear god. Not another one."
Bernice raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"
"Nothing, ma'am."
"I'm back to 'ma'am', I see." She spotted another cup of tea and examined it. Plain, but with sugar.
"Yes, ma'am."
The seventh Doctor pulled his attention from Ace to purse his lips at Bernice in disapproval.
The third Doctor fluffed a ruffled sleeve, pretending to study his cuticles. "Are they always this...predatory? Because your taste in companions leaves something to be desired."
The seventh slitted his eyes. "And yours didn't?"
"I suppose we could insult each other all day, but I'll be proactive, to quote your companion. Why are you here?"
"Yes, well, that. There is a certain villain at large. We believe he landed here and -"
Just then, a Raging Plothole rampaged through the scene. Its mouth was full of broken syntax, misspellings, unmarked dialogue and burnt pudding. The UNIT men waiting in the hallway outside, rushed in to fire sparklers at it to no avail. Most of them were sucked into the vortex. Ultimately, Voltron arrived and cut the Plothole in half, saving all of Britain.
Bernice hid behind an overturned desk, drinking liquor, while Yates shot sparklers at the dying Plothole. "So, not my type, eh?"
The captain squared his shoulders. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"Is this one of those strange 20th century colloquialisms I'm supposed to understand? Because I'd like to point out I'm from the 26th century and a lot of that goes over my head."
"Eh?" Yates fumbled with his dart gun.
"Right."
As the room returned to silence, except for Jo who occasionally screamed, the seventh Doctor hopped around on one foot, looking panicked. "Where's Ace?"
Everyone in the room stared at him.
Jo blinked. "She went with the handsome bloke."
Yates started. "What handsome bloke?"
Everyone turned to look at him.
The Brigadier fingered his mustache. "The one who appeared in the Plothole.
Jo nodded. "You know, the evil one."
The third Doctor rounded on his unperturbed companion. "You stupid idiot. Why didn't you stop her?"
"She tied me to the chair, you big meanie."
"I'm not mean."
"You are too, poopy-head."
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
Bernice left Yates to blush in silence, advancing on Jo, hoping her smile looked friendly and harmless. "Tied you up, eh? Well, that just makes it easier for me." She winced when the Doctors yelled her name.
She rolled her eyes and picked up the Brigadier's unspilled tea. "Oh, you take all the fun out of it."
The man in question slapped the crop in his palm. "We'll have to find and rescue your young friend." He glowered at the Doctor. "Again."
The seventh Doctor sighed dramatically. "No need."
Bernice replaced the mug on the table, surreptitiously pocketing her liquor bottle. "Are you going to throw a wobbly?"
The seventh Doctor cracked his knuckles, then held his fingers to his temples. "Using my vast telepathic powers I will summon her mind across the astral plane!"
The Brigadier sat down, reaching for his tea. "Doctor? Why are you in that wheelchair?"
Bernice made a shushing motion. "Shhh. He's wobbling."
"This is nonsense! We have to track her down. She could be anywhere!"
The third Doctor returned to studying his nails. "How very astute."
The seventh Doctor called out in a hollow voice, telepathically, "Ace, the bloke you're shagging is evil! Evil, I tell you!"
Her response was full of static, and for a moment, the sounds of George Michael's "Faith" were audible. "From the dawn of time?"
"Yes!"
"On it, professor."
"Well yes, I know that -"
Gunfire echoed across the astral plane. The Doctor rubbed his ears, cringing.
"All done."
"Damnit. It's not necessary to kill everyone."
"But I learned from the best, professor."
The Brigadier applauded. "Oh, good show, miss!"
Bernice had used this distraction to stalk Jo.
Jo blinked. "Doctor! She's touching me!"
The seventh Doctor lunged out of his wheelchair, which promptly disappeared. "Stay away from her!"
"Aw, c'mon. You never get after Ace for...." She petered off as both Doctors glared at her, singing her eyebrows and blistering her skin. "Fine. Be that way."
The Brigadier cocked his head. "I say. Anyone else feeling a bit, er, tipsy?"
The seventh Doctor massaged the bridge of his nose, "Bernice..."
Benny held up her liquor bottle and winked. "It's all part of my cunning plan, dontcha know? It was getting stuffy in here."
Captain Yates hiccuped.
Jo smiled blandly. "Will you untie me now?"
Bernice offered a mug to her. "Have some tea, first, pumpkin."
The seventh Doctor waved his red question mark umbrella in aggravation, stumbling in sympathetic inebriation. "Bernish, you, you fucktard! Keep it in your bloody pants for once!"
"Bah, up yours, and I mean that literally!"
Ace burst through the office doors. "Hey everyone! Miss me?"
The soused seventh Doctor smiled blearily. "Oh, every night."
"Get way from me, you old pervert! Benny, what have I told you about feeding him after midnight?"
The Doctor waved his hand emphatically. "You know all those boyfriends of yours I've killed? Now you know why."
Ace danced away, trying to keep him at a distance, while the third Doctor toasted her with a glass of wine. "I'll bust you in the fucking head!"
"Mm, yes. But which one?"
"Ew!"
Bernice pointed, laughed, and draped herself over Yates to stay upright.
"I say, ma'am, I'm really not interested."
Bernice snuggled up to her victim. "Aw, c'mon. Gimme some. It's not fair. Those two are always cutting me out. C'mon, snookums."
Yates pointed his gun at her. "I'm, hic, not your snookums you queer vamp."
"I may be from the future, but even I recognize an insult, you backwater, 20th century... uh... what's the word again, Ace?"
Ace paused in her struggles to answer, "Fag! No, wait.... That's a cigarette. Queen!"
Bernice waved in thanks, returning her attention to Yates, "You damn picky queen!"
Ace flailed. "That's it! Now help me with the Doctor. He's got his umbrella down my pants, and I don't mean metaphorically!"
"Only if you'll gimme a shag later."
Ace sighed melodramatically. "I guess you're the lesser of two evils."
"Score!" She patted Yates on the shoulder. "You see? It's all in the strategy - "
"Get away from me," his voice cracked. Yates swung his revolver in her general direction and everyone heard the sparkler pop as it fired.
Bernice gaped at him. "You killed Ace! You bastard!" She bashed Yates in the head with her liquor bottle. "Now you've spoiled my evil plan!"
The third Doctor lounged, nonchalant, sipping at his drink. "You're the evil villain?"
"Nah, I was being facetious."
The seventh Doctor looked down at Ace. Half her head was missing. "Not again."
Suddenly, the Master burst into the room through the wall damaged by the Plothole. "Mwahahahahaha!"
The third Doctor threw down his glass, narrowly missing Jo, who screamed on cue. He stomped his foot. "Master! I knew it was you all along!"
The Master, resplendent in black velvet suit and white cravat, sneered, pointing his killer dildo at them. "I've got you all now!"
Bernice rushed back into the TARDIS and reemerged sporting a glue on goatee and tablecloth tied around her neck to form a cape. She jiggled a lavender pink, silicone dildo at the Master. "Hah!, mine's bigger!"
Master sulked. "Now that's just not fair, stealing my spotlight like that."
"Oh yeah?" She stabbed him through the eye with the dildo, then took a bow.
Yates winced.
Ace got up, dusting off bits of brain splattered on her uniform. Gradually, her head molded together, the gaping hole melting shut until she seemed good as new. Just for a second, the Brigadier could have sworn her eyes glowed.
Bernice did a victory dance. "Yay! You still owe me, bitch." She pointed a finger meaningfully at Ace.
"But I died. All debts are null and void."
"Pffft. You died last week, too."
Jo blinked. "Can I be untied now?"
Author: kkglinka
Rating: PG for rude jokes.
Characters: Doctor Who: 7doc, 3doc, Jo, Ace, Benny, Brigadier, UNIT
Summary: Improbable random crossover event.
Warning: Contains indiscriminate jokes about sex.
Spoilers: None. AU.
Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart was sitting at his desk, having another pointless argument with the Doctor, a tall white haired fellow in froofy clothing. Between them, in a chair, was a young, blond haired woman. She blinked a lot.
The Doctor pulled a face and theatrically threw aside his red silk lined opera cape. "I would never voluntarily associate with you military types, Brigadier! But no, I'm trapped here, surrounded by fools who think violence is the solution to any and every problem. It's insane!"
Jo, the young woman, looked at him and blinked.
A great temporal fart filled the room, sounding a bit like silly string, set on fire and thrown inside an ant house. Or perhaps like a broken piano. Either way, a familiar blue police box appeared in the office. Half of it superimposed itself on a staff desk and the Brigadier wondered if that portion of the desk continued to exist. Perhaps once this TARDIS left (they invariably did) the desk would keel over without support. Damned expensive Time Lords.
The Brigadier stood. "I say, not again. Which one is it this time?"
The Doctor (third incarnation) fluttered his cape, then crossed his arms mulishly. "Now see here, there are laws against this sort of thing!"
Another Doctor exited the TARDIS, followed by two women. This incarnation wore a rumpled white suit, complete with a jade broach and fedora.
Jo blinked. "Look, Doctor! A pimp daddy!"
"Quiet, Jo."
One of the women wore, what appeared to be, slightly mismatched clothing, tailored for a man. Her tie was unfastened and a pith helmet perched askew on her head. She waved. The other woman wore scandalously tight black body armor. She was festooned by weaponry. She waved too.
Jo waved back.
The new Doctor (seventh incarnation) made a moue. "Oh dear. This isn't right."
The woman in black grinned. "Hey Brig."
The Brigadier sniffed. "Have we met?"
"Not yet."
"This is intolerable." He sniffed louder, wiggled his mustache, glared at the third Doctor and held his riding crop behind his back.
"Indeed," chimed in both Doctors.
"I think I'll go ahead and take the proactive approach." The odd woman sashayed, and that was the only word for it, up to Benton. "Hello, handsome. I'm Bernice, but my friends call me Benny. And you?"
"Sergeant Benton. I'm sorry, ma'am, but I shouldn't be speaking to you unless the Brigadier says otherwise." The tall, broad shouldered soldier raised his chin, averting his eyes.
"Bother." Bernice found a cup of tea sitting on the table and took a sip. It was plain and still warm. She considered the reluctant man before appraising the remaining occupants. A thin aesthetic man with dark hair wore captain's bars. There was the older officer, who Ace seemed to know, an owlish young lady and an elderly gentlemen who seemed to have the Doctor's lack of fashion sense.
Meanwhile, the Brigadier watched the woman in black approach Jo. He wiggled his mustache again, hoping one of the Doctors would notice his displeasure. It was distasteful to state the obvious. The woman poked Jo in the shoulder, then passed a hand slowly in front of her face to elicit a response.
Jo blinked. "Hello. I'm Jo."
"Do you work in a button factory?"
"No. I work for UNIT. We fight alien invaders but, mostly, I get caught."
"Uh huh. I'm Ace. So, you the Doctor's companion?"
"Yes."
"You ever been in his TARDIS?"
"Oh, lots of times."
"And has he ever touched you-"
The seventh Doctor frowned ferociously and reprimanded, "Ace!"
"Sorry." Ace threw him a cheeky grin over her shoulder.
Jo, "Yes, but-"
The third Doctor mimicked the seventh's expression, "Jo!"
The Brigadier slapped his desk with the riding crop, "Doctor!"
The Doctors swiveled their heads in his direction and replied in unison, "Ignore her."
From the corner of his eye, he could see the woman named Bernice cornering Captain Yates. Oh dear.
She slid onto a staff desk. "So, uh, you're a Captain, eh?"
Yates cleared his throat, muttering, "Oh dear god. Not another one."
Bernice raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"
"Nothing, ma'am."
"I'm back to 'ma'am', I see." She spotted another cup of tea and examined it. Plain, but with sugar.
"Yes, ma'am."
The seventh Doctor pulled his attention from Ace to purse his lips at Bernice in disapproval.
The third Doctor fluffed a ruffled sleeve, pretending to study his cuticles. "Are they always this...predatory? Because your taste in companions leaves something to be desired."
The seventh slitted his eyes. "And yours didn't?"
"I suppose we could insult each other all day, but I'll be proactive, to quote your companion. Why are you here?"
"Yes, well, that. There is a certain villain at large. We believe he landed here and -"
Just then, a Raging Plothole rampaged through the scene. Its mouth was full of broken syntax, misspellings, unmarked dialogue and burnt pudding. The UNIT men waiting in the hallway outside, rushed in to fire sparklers at it to no avail. Most of them were sucked into the vortex. Ultimately, Voltron arrived and cut the Plothole in half, saving all of Britain.
Bernice hid behind an overturned desk, drinking liquor, while Yates shot sparklers at the dying Plothole. "So, not my type, eh?"
The captain squared his shoulders. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"Is this one of those strange 20th century colloquialisms I'm supposed to understand? Because I'd like to point out I'm from the 26th century and a lot of that goes over my head."
"Eh?" Yates fumbled with his dart gun.
"Right."
As the room returned to silence, except for Jo who occasionally screamed, the seventh Doctor hopped around on one foot, looking panicked. "Where's Ace?"
Everyone in the room stared at him.
Jo blinked. "She went with the handsome bloke."
Yates started. "What handsome bloke?"
Everyone turned to look at him.
The Brigadier fingered his mustache. "The one who appeared in the Plothole.
Jo nodded. "You know, the evil one."
The third Doctor rounded on his unperturbed companion. "You stupid idiot. Why didn't you stop her?"
"She tied me to the chair, you big meanie."
"I'm not mean."
"You are too, poopy-head."
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
Bernice left Yates to blush in silence, advancing on Jo, hoping her smile looked friendly and harmless. "Tied you up, eh? Well, that just makes it easier for me." She winced when the Doctors yelled her name.
She rolled her eyes and picked up the Brigadier's unspilled tea. "Oh, you take all the fun out of it."
The man in question slapped the crop in his palm. "We'll have to find and rescue your young friend." He glowered at the Doctor. "Again."
The seventh Doctor sighed dramatically. "No need."
Bernice replaced the mug on the table, surreptitiously pocketing her liquor bottle. "Are you going to throw a wobbly?"
The seventh Doctor cracked his knuckles, then held his fingers to his temples. "Using my vast telepathic powers I will summon her mind across the astral plane!"
The Brigadier sat down, reaching for his tea. "Doctor? Why are you in that wheelchair?"
Bernice made a shushing motion. "Shhh. He's wobbling."
"This is nonsense! We have to track her down. She could be anywhere!"
The third Doctor returned to studying his nails. "How very astute."
The seventh Doctor called out in a hollow voice, telepathically, "Ace, the bloke you're shagging is evil! Evil, I tell you!"
Her response was full of static, and for a moment, the sounds of George Michael's "Faith" were audible. "From the dawn of time?"
"Yes!"
"On it, professor."
"Well yes, I know that -"
Gunfire echoed across the astral plane. The Doctor rubbed his ears, cringing.
"All done."
"Damnit. It's not necessary to kill everyone."
"But I learned from the best, professor."
The Brigadier applauded. "Oh, good show, miss!"
Bernice had used this distraction to stalk Jo.
Jo blinked. "Doctor! She's touching me!"
The seventh Doctor lunged out of his wheelchair, which promptly disappeared. "Stay away from her!"
"Aw, c'mon. You never get after Ace for...." She petered off as both Doctors glared at her, singing her eyebrows and blistering her skin. "Fine. Be that way."
The Brigadier cocked his head. "I say. Anyone else feeling a bit, er, tipsy?"
The seventh Doctor massaged the bridge of his nose, "Bernice..."
Benny held up her liquor bottle and winked. "It's all part of my cunning plan, dontcha know? It was getting stuffy in here."
Captain Yates hiccuped.
Jo smiled blandly. "Will you untie me now?"
Bernice offered a mug to her. "Have some tea, first, pumpkin."
The seventh Doctor waved his red question mark umbrella in aggravation, stumbling in sympathetic inebriation. "Bernish, you, you fucktard! Keep it in your bloody pants for once!"
"Bah, up yours, and I mean that literally!"
Ace burst through the office doors. "Hey everyone! Miss me?"
The soused seventh Doctor smiled blearily. "Oh, every night."
"Get way from me, you old pervert! Benny, what have I told you about feeding him after midnight?"
The Doctor waved his hand emphatically. "You know all those boyfriends of yours I've killed? Now you know why."
Ace danced away, trying to keep him at a distance, while the third Doctor toasted her with a glass of wine. "I'll bust you in the fucking head!"
"Mm, yes. But which one?"
"Ew!"
Bernice pointed, laughed, and draped herself over Yates to stay upright.
"I say, ma'am, I'm really not interested."
Bernice snuggled up to her victim. "Aw, c'mon. Gimme some. It's not fair. Those two are always cutting me out. C'mon, snookums."
Yates pointed his gun at her. "I'm, hic, not your snookums you queer vamp."
"I may be from the future, but even I recognize an insult, you backwater, 20th century... uh... what's the word again, Ace?"
Ace paused in her struggles to answer, "Fag! No, wait.... That's a cigarette. Queen!"
Bernice waved in thanks, returning her attention to Yates, "You damn picky queen!"
Ace flailed. "That's it! Now help me with the Doctor. He's got his umbrella down my pants, and I don't mean metaphorically!"
"Only if you'll gimme a shag later."
Ace sighed melodramatically. "I guess you're the lesser of two evils."
"Score!" She patted Yates on the shoulder. "You see? It's all in the strategy - "
"Get away from me," his voice cracked. Yates swung his revolver in her general direction and everyone heard the sparkler pop as it fired.
Bernice gaped at him. "You killed Ace! You bastard!" She bashed Yates in the head with her liquor bottle. "Now you've spoiled my evil plan!"
The third Doctor lounged, nonchalant, sipping at his drink. "You're the evil villain?"
"Nah, I was being facetious."
The seventh Doctor looked down at Ace. Half her head was missing. "Not again."
Suddenly, the Master burst into the room through the wall damaged by the Plothole. "Mwahahahahaha!"
The third Doctor threw down his glass, narrowly missing Jo, who screamed on cue. He stomped his foot. "Master! I knew it was you all along!"
The Master, resplendent in black velvet suit and white cravat, sneered, pointing his killer dildo at them. "I've got you all now!"
Bernice rushed back into the TARDIS and reemerged sporting a glue on goatee and tablecloth tied around her neck to form a cape. She jiggled a lavender pink, silicone dildo at the Master. "Hah!, mine's bigger!"
Master sulked. "Now that's just not fair, stealing my spotlight like that."
"Oh yeah?" She stabbed him through the eye with the dildo, then took a bow.
Yates winced.
Ace got up, dusting off bits of brain splattered on her uniform. Gradually, her head molded together, the gaping hole melting shut until she seemed good as new. Just for a second, the Brigadier could have sworn her eyes glowed.
Bernice did a victory dance. "Yay! You still owe me, bitch." She pointed a finger meaningfully at Ace.
"But I died. All debts are null and void."
"Pffft. You died last week, too."
Jo blinked. "Can I be untied now?"