Fic: ‘Tuck your scarf in.’
Title: Tuck your scarf in.
Fandom: Doctor Who.
Rating: (G)
Time Period: During the 4th Doctor’s reign.
Summary: If he’s behind the sofa, the Cybermen can’t see him ...
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
For all intents and purposes, this story takes place in ‘the real world’, where Doctor Who airs. I don’t usually write stories like this (and this, I know, will be the exception) but we can blame Neil Gaiman for it! He was chatting with Craig Ferguson on his show recently and mentioned hiding behind the sofa when Doctor Who was airing waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back and why you’d hide behind the sofa.
Disclaimer
With the exception of original characters created specifically for this piece of fiction, all characters contained herein are the intellectual property of the BBC; I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by them.
_______________________
“Doctor Who’s on!” The small boy yells as he runs for the sofa. Cushions? Check! Space behind the sofa? Yep!
Then he groans and whizzes past his mother. “Darling?”
He darts back into the room, almost tripping on the enormous scarf looped around his neck. He jumps, his fingers outstretched for the hat dangling carelessly from the hat stand in the corner. With a sigh, his mother lifts the hat and hands it to her son who plops it on his recklessly curly hair.
She settles herself within the comfortable expanse of cushions, leaning forward only to draw the coffee table forward; it’ll be handy for the cup of tea she’ll have while she relaxes. Her son sits beside her, a big goofy grin of pure delight all she can (almost) see of his face.
The theme starts; it’s all nonsense to her, she’ll say to her friends but, come this half-hour each week, she won’t move. She simply knows enough of the world now to sit on the sofa and not behind.
“Don’tlet’emgetme!”
She shakes her head; the top of the Doctor’s hat can be seen peeping above the back of the sofa; her son’s eyes are just below the hat’s brim. His scarf, she can see, is in direct sight of the television with its Cybermen.
“Tuck your scarf in, dear,” she absently tells him, her eyes drifting back to the action on the screen.
He yanks the scarf back and the tips of his fingers are now seen as he grips the top edge of the sofa’s back. He’ll stay there, she knows, until the show ends and the next begins.
After all, one never knows when the monsters might reach through the television ...
Fandom: Doctor Who.
Rating: (G)
Time Period: During the 4th Doctor’s reign.
Summary: If he’s behind the sofa, the Cybermen can’t see him ...
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
For all intents and purposes, this story takes place in ‘the real world’, where Doctor Who airs. I don’t usually write stories like this (and this, I know, will be the exception) but we can blame Neil Gaiman for it! He was chatting with Craig Ferguson on his show recently and mentioned hiding behind the sofa when Doctor Who was airing waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back and why you’d hide behind the sofa.
Disclaimer
With the exception of original characters created specifically for this piece of fiction, all characters contained herein are the intellectual property of the BBC; I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by them.
_______________________
“Doctor Who’s on!” The small boy yells as he runs for the sofa. Cushions? Check! Space behind the sofa? Yep!
Then he groans and whizzes past his mother. “Darling?”
He darts back into the room, almost tripping on the enormous scarf looped around his neck. He jumps, his fingers outstretched for the hat dangling carelessly from the hat stand in the corner. With a sigh, his mother lifts the hat and hands it to her son who plops it on his recklessly curly hair.
She settles herself within the comfortable expanse of cushions, leaning forward only to draw the coffee table forward; it’ll be handy for the cup of tea she’ll have while she relaxes. Her son sits beside her, a big goofy grin of pure delight all she can (almost) see of his face.
The theme starts; it’s all nonsense to her, she’ll say to her friends but, come this half-hour each week, she won’t move. She simply knows enough of the world now to sit on the sofa and not behind.
“Don’tlet’emgetme!”
She shakes her head; the top of the Doctor’s hat can be seen peeping above the back of the sofa; her son’s eyes are just below the hat’s brim. His scarf, she can see, is in direct sight of the television with its Cybermen.
“Tuck your scarf in, dear,” she absently tells him, her eyes drifting back to the action on the screen.
He yanks the scarf back and the tips of his fingers are now seen as he grips the top edge of the sofa’s back. He’ll stay there, she knows, until the show ends and the next begins.
After all, one never knows when the monsters might reach through the television ...