New Fic: Dog and Pony Show
Title: Dog and Pony Show
Author: wojelah
Fandom: Doctor Who: Ten, Martha
Rating: PG-13 for innuendo
Spoilers: for The Girl in the Fireplace. Barely.
Author's Notes: This time, it's bibliotech's fault. Because she said: "...CAN I GET A PONY? (One day that will work....)" And then fic happened. Entirely un-beta'd, but omglawdork said she approves anyway.
Summary: Martha holds up a hand and shakes her head. "Wait. Never mind. The point is," she continues, "why was he in my bedroom?"
"Doctor?" Martha's voice drifts down the hallway. She doesn't sound terrified, so she hasn't met the Venusian fly-trap in the third parlor, which means it can probably wait.
"Busy!" he shouts back, head under the console, scrabbling for the spanner he thought he'd left next to his thigh.
"Doctor," she says again, closer this time - and accompanied by hoofbeats, which is decidedly odd.
Curious, he slides out from underneath the hyperdimensional stabilizer, and immediately breaks into a grin. "Arthur!"
Martha raises an eyebrow. "You've met, then?"
"Course we have - Arthur's a mate!" Arthur whickers, and rests his chin on Martha's shoulder. She looks moderately non-plussed. "He usually prefers the gardens, though - what were you doing there? I warned you about the carnivorous vegetation, didn't I?"
"What?" she says. "No. You have meat-eating plants on-board?" Martha holds up a hand and shakes her head. "Wait. Never mind. The point is," she continues, "why was he in my bedroom?"
"In your bedroom?" He's honestly baffled, until he thinks about it for a moment. "Oh," he grins. "The TARDIS must like you."
"Likes me," Martha says flatly. "The TARDIS likes me, so she put a horse in my bedroom?"
"Well," he reasons, "Don't most girls want a pony at some point?"
"When I was six, yeah!" she snaps. "What am I going to do with a horse in my bedroom?" He raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth and she cuts him off with remarkable speed. "Don't! Do. Not. Just -" and she jumps as Arthur nibbles her jacket collar, "what am I going to do with him?"
"Well," he says again, assessing the situation, "he seems rather hungry. You could invite him to lunch." He shifts back under the console. "Just don't take him into the garden. George might be hungry too."
"George?" Martha sounds baffled.
"Venusian fly-trap. As in, from Venus. I'll introduce you later."
Silence, for a moment, and then she starts to laugh, helplessly. "Right, Arthur," she chuckles. "Let's go. We'll try the kitchens. Safer there, I hope."
"Have fun," he calls, as her footsteps recede. He considers warning her about the Cookie Monster in the topmost cabinet, but decides not to, in the end. They'll get along fine.
Author: wojelah
Fandom: Doctor Who: Ten, Martha
Rating: PG-13 for innuendo
Spoilers: for The Girl in the Fireplace. Barely.
Author's Notes: This time, it's bibliotech's fault. Because she said: "...CAN I GET A PONY? (One day that will work....)" And then fic happened. Entirely un-beta'd, but omglawdork said she approves anyway.
Summary: Martha holds up a hand and shakes her head. "Wait. Never mind. The point is," she continues, "why was he in my bedroom?"
"Doctor?" Martha's voice drifts down the hallway. She doesn't sound terrified, so she hasn't met the Venusian fly-trap in the third parlor, which means it can probably wait.
"Busy!" he shouts back, head under the console, scrabbling for the spanner he thought he'd left next to his thigh.
"Doctor," she says again, closer this time - and accompanied by hoofbeats, which is decidedly odd.
Curious, he slides out from underneath the hyperdimensional stabilizer, and immediately breaks into a grin. "Arthur!"
Martha raises an eyebrow. "You've met, then?"
"Course we have - Arthur's a mate!" Arthur whickers, and rests his chin on Martha's shoulder. She looks moderately non-plussed. "He usually prefers the gardens, though - what were you doing there? I warned you about the carnivorous vegetation, didn't I?"
"What?" she says. "No. You have meat-eating plants on-board?" Martha holds up a hand and shakes her head. "Wait. Never mind. The point is," she continues, "why was he in my bedroom?"
"In your bedroom?" He's honestly baffled, until he thinks about it for a moment. "Oh," he grins. "The TARDIS must like you."
"Likes me," Martha says flatly. "The TARDIS likes me, so she put a horse in my bedroom?"
"Well," he reasons, "Don't most girls want a pony at some point?"
"When I was six, yeah!" she snaps. "What am I going to do with a horse in my bedroom?" He raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth and she cuts him off with remarkable speed. "Don't! Do. Not. Just -" and she jumps as Arthur nibbles her jacket collar, "what am I going to do with him?"
"Well," he says again, assessing the situation, "he seems rather hungry. You could invite him to lunch." He shifts back under the console. "Just don't take him into the garden. George might be hungry too."
"George?" Martha sounds baffled.
"Venusian fly-trap. As in, from Venus. I'll introduce you later."
Silence, for a moment, and then she starts to laugh, helplessly. "Right, Arthur," she chuckles. "Let's go. We'll try the kitchens. Safer there, I hope."
"Have fun," he calls, as her footsteps recede. He considers warning her about the Cookie Monster in the topmost cabinet, but decides not to, in the end. They'll get along fine.