An Apple a Day...? Chapter 1/?
Comments would be appreciated; since this is my first time writing DW or PD fiction, so... I'm not too sure about my characters at all. :3
Title: An Apple a Day...?
Rating: G. It'll get worse later, I promise (not R, but definitely PG-13)
Pairing: I can't tell you that; it would give away the entire plot!
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Pushing Daisies or anything related to them. Well, I do have a Pushing Daisies poster. But the BBC and ABC own everything.
Premise: The TARDIS crash lands in Olive Snook's living room. Chaos ensues. XD
Spoilers: DW (Doomsday), PD (Kerplunk!)
Word Count: 1,595
"I love you."
Rose burst into tears and it took every bit of willpower he had to not reach out and envelope her in his arms. He was only a projection, after all, and reminding Rose that they couldn't touch would only upset her more. He hated seeing her upset, which seemed to happen more and more often lately. Everywhere they went he would end up in some sort of mortal danger and Rose... He smiled, nodding, and said, "Quite right, too."
Rose nodded and smiled weakly. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold her and wipe her tears away. He wanted to hug her, comfort her, wipe away her tears. Kiss away her tears. He had only kissed her once, and now he regretted not kissing her more often. Love had broken his hearts once before, he didn't know if his hearts could survive another loss. He had known this would happen - goodbyes always did - but he thought he would have had more time with her. With his Rose.
Although Rose was standing right before him, he was missing her more than ever. His fingers twitched; he yearned to touch her one last time. He wondered if he could. Rose sniffled and pushed her hair behind her ear, gazing up into his deep brown eyes. He wondered what she was thinking, what she was going to say. They had been through so much together.
"And I suppose..." He smiled and found himself preparing for words he never had the strength to say aloud. Thousands, millions of times he had almost blurted them out: sometimes after a near-death experience when he thought he'd lost her, sometimes just because she laughed or made him smile. He felt his throat tighten, and he struggled to find his voice. "If it's one last chance to say it..."
The girl standing before him looked up at him, wide-eyed and curious. Could he really be about to say what she'd wanted to hear for so long? Moments of their time together flashed through his mind: their first meeting, dancing, Satellite Five, the return of the Daleks, alternate Earth, the 1950s when he lost Rose, the 2010s when Rose lost him, all the nights spent in the TARDIS, her asleep and him watching, and most recently, when Rose fell through the Void in Torchwood Tower and ended up in Alternate Earth along with her mother, father, and best friend. He remembered all the fun they'd had together, all the bets and the adventures and - and the chips! He grinned and looked down at Rose, the girl who said she'd stay with him forever, the girl who would give her own life to save his, the girl who... the girl who loved him.
The Doctor took a deep breath. He couldn't believe he was about to tell her this, but this was his last chance; he needed to. He smiled triumphantly. "Rose Tyler --"
He blinked and suddenly found himself back in the TARDIS. The beach had vanished, his Rose had vanished. A lone tear fell down his cheek, and he closed his eyes. He could just imagine her, sobbing. He did that to her; he made her cry, he was the reason for her pain, and he hated himself for it. The time rotor of the TARDIS hummed behind him, and he wiped his tears away with his hands.
The Doctor was always alone. He knew that. Why he bothered to find companions and befriend them...
He took another deep breath and walked over to the main console: someone somewhere sometime probably needed help, and he needed a distraction. He began pumping and pulling levers and pressing buttons half-heartedly, when suddenly the TARDIS rattled, threw him up into the air, and turned upside down. Looking above him at the floor, he realized he was on the ceiling. "What! What?! What's goin' on?! Turn the gravity back to normal! C'mon!" The TARDIS was shaking, shaking as she had when she fell through the vortex and into an alternate reality. It was all the Doctor could do to crawl to the centre of the roof and hold on to the time rotor. "C'mon, it's only a star! We were already outside its gravitational range! No, no, no, no, no, no, we are NOT going through to another reality! Come on, let me down!"
The shaking stopped, the TARDIS inverted herself, and the Doctor fell to the floor. "OW!" He slowly sat up and held the back of his head. "That wasn't very nice!" He checked to make sure he wasn't bleeding, then started when the console began smoking and throwing sparks in every direction. "Oh no! What's happened now?! No, no, no, no, no, NO!" He scrambled to his feet and ran around the console, flipping switches and adjusting controls and pressing buttons until he finally just yelled "STOP!" and smashed his fist against the console. There was a loud "BANG!" and the TARDIS stopped moving entirely and the lights flickered out. "Fantastic."
***
"Good morning." Chuck shuffled down the hallway towards the kitchen. The Piemaker glanced up from his lukewarm coffee. She was beautiful; hand-me-down orange house dress and all. Her hair was held back with little white flower pins. "I hope that's not for me. My half-birthday's over." She gestured half-heartedly at the red box on the table and sat down.
Ned inhaled deeply and said, "The gifts I gave you before might trigger crisis and misery."
Chuck smirked. "Really? I hadn't noticed."
"Give this one a shot?" He looked through his lashes and watched her contemplate opening the gift. After a few moments, she lifted the lid of the box and set it inside. She picked up a heart-shaped frame and tilted her head, inspecting the photograph in the frame.
"I don't remember this picture. I remember the day, but, not the shot."
Ned smiled. "Because I took it. With my junior Insto-matic. It was the first time I met your aunts. They... were buzzing through town on the way to some far off and fantastic place."
Chuck relaxed and let her shoulders fall back. "I had almost forgotten those aunts." She squeezed the frame. "Thank you for reminding me."
The Piemaker's insides melted at her gratitude. They had argued the night before and Ned had slept on the couch. His melted insides solidified into a cold rock and he remembered what he was going to say. Chuck picked up Ned's coffee mug and took a sip.
"Chuck," he began, "I tried very hard to be a good boyfriend." She gazed at him from across the small table. "I believe that, every day, even in the smallest ways, I'd try to put your happiness before my own --"
"Yeah, I agree with that whole-heartedly." Chuck interrupted, shaking her head.
"I've been lying to you." She tilted her head and waited for him to explain. He looked down at the woven placemat and bounced his leg nervously. "Not that it's any kind of excuse but I think it's because I've been lying to myself, too. If Lily and Vivian kn-knew you were still alive the only person in danger would be me." Chuck unlaced her fingers from the coffee mug and set the now empty mug on the table. She clasped her hands together and leaned her elbows on the edge of the table. "And the danger itself is a lie; it's irrational fear in dangerous clothing and it's whispering in my ear saying 'Chuck loves her mother and aunt so much that there's no way she would want to spend her life with you if she... could still be with them' and so I put my happiness first, and... told everyone that no one could know you were alive again." He stared through the placemat and pouted. "Especially Lily and Vivian Charles."
"You didn't know what you were doing," she tried to console him. If she could touch him without dying, she would have rested her hand on his and squeezed it.
"I do now." Ned nodded and glanced off to the side. "And now... I'm finally putting your happiness before my own."
Chuck opened her mouth to speak, tears filling her eyes as she saw the tears forming in her boyfriend's. Her voice escaped her, so she pulled back her hand and laced her fingers back together. She squeezed her own hands together.
The Piemaker had finally done something right. And less than an hour later, the Piemaker and the girl named Chuck found themselves standing on the porch of the Charles' house. He was in his finest suit, and she wore her favourite white sundress. He held a bottle of wine, her a bouquet of daisies.
She looked up at him, as if asking for permission, and he jerked his head towards the door, grinning. Chuck leaned forward and rang the doorbell. Ned rocked back and forth on his feet: toe heel, toe heel. He nervously cleared his throat.
"Maybe they're out?" Ned suggested when neither aunt had come to the door. Chuck leaned to her left to peer into the window.
"No, they're here. I can see them." She leaned forward again and rang the doorbell. The door whipped open and two obviously upset aunts stood in the doorway. Ned smiled awkwardly and held up the bottle of wine, knowing that Lily would enjoy it. Instead, the women simply stared at Chuck, mouths open, eyes wide.
"Lily? Vivian?" Chuck asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm alive."
***
Title: An Apple a Day...?
Rating: G. It'll get worse later, I promise (not R, but definitely PG-13)
Pairing: I can't tell you that; it would give away the entire plot!
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Pushing Daisies or anything related to them. Well, I do have a Pushing Daisies poster. But the BBC and ABC own everything.
Premise: The TARDIS crash lands in Olive Snook's living room. Chaos ensues. XD
Spoilers: DW (Doomsday), PD (Kerplunk!)
Word Count: 1,595
"I love you."
Rose burst into tears and it took every bit of willpower he had to not reach out and envelope her in his arms. He was only a projection, after all, and reminding Rose that they couldn't touch would only upset her more. He hated seeing her upset, which seemed to happen more and more often lately. Everywhere they went he would end up in some sort of mortal danger and Rose... He smiled, nodding, and said, "Quite right, too."
Rose nodded and smiled weakly. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold her and wipe her tears away. He wanted to hug her, comfort her, wipe away her tears. Kiss away her tears. He had only kissed her once, and now he regretted not kissing her more often. Love had broken his hearts once before, he didn't know if his hearts could survive another loss. He had known this would happen - goodbyes always did - but he thought he would have had more time with her. With his Rose.
Although Rose was standing right before him, he was missing her more than ever. His fingers twitched; he yearned to touch her one last time. He wondered if he could. Rose sniffled and pushed her hair behind her ear, gazing up into his deep brown eyes. He wondered what she was thinking, what she was going to say. They had been through so much together.
"And I suppose..." He smiled and found himself preparing for words he never had the strength to say aloud. Thousands, millions of times he had almost blurted them out: sometimes after a near-death experience when he thought he'd lost her, sometimes just because she laughed or made him smile. He felt his throat tighten, and he struggled to find his voice. "If it's one last chance to say it..."
The girl standing before him looked up at him, wide-eyed and curious. Could he really be about to say what she'd wanted to hear for so long? Moments of their time together flashed through his mind: their first meeting, dancing, Satellite Five, the return of the Daleks, alternate Earth, the 1950s when he lost Rose, the 2010s when Rose lost him, all the nights spent in the TARDIS, her asleep and him watching, and most recently, when Rose fell through the Void in Torchwood Tower and ended up in Alternate Earth along with her mother, father, and best friend. He remembered all the fun they'd had together, all the bets and the adventures and - and the chips! He grinned and looked down at Rose, the girl who said she'd stay with him forever, the girl who would give her own life to save his, the girl who... the girl who loved him.
The Doctor took a deep breath. He couldn't believe he was about to tell her this, but this was his last chance; he needed to. He smiled triumphantly. "Rose Tyler --"
He blinked and suddenly found himself back in the TARDIS. The beach had vanished, his Rose had vanished. A lone tear fell down his cheek, and he closed his eyes. He could just imagine her, sobbing. He did that to her; he made her cry, he was the reason for her pain, and he hated himself for it. The time rotor of the TARDIS hummed behind him, and he wiped his tears away with his hands.
The Doctor was always alone. He knew that. Why he bothered to find companions and befriend them...
He took another deep breath and walked over to the main console: someone somewhere sometime probably needed help, and he needed a distraction. He began pumping and pulling levers and pressing buttons half-heartedly, when suddenly the TARDIS rattled, threw him up into the air, and turned upside down. Looking above him at the floor, he realized he was on the ceiling. "What! What?! What's goin' on?! Turn the gravity back to normal! C'mon!" The TARDIS was shaking, shaking as she had when she fell through the vortex and into an alternate reality. It was all the Doctor could do to crawl to the centre of the roof and hold on to the time rotor. "C'mon, it's only a star! We were already outside its gravitational range! No, no, no, no, no, no, we are NOT going through to another reality! Come on, let me down!"
The shaking stopped, the TARDIS inverted herself, and the Doctor fell to the floor. "OW!" He slowly sat up and held the back of his head. "That wasn't very nice!" He checked to make sure he wasn't bleeding, then started when the console began smoking and throwing sparks in every direction. "Oh no! What's happened now?! No, no, no, no, no, NO!" He scrambled to his feet and ran around the console, flipping switches and adjusting controls and pressing buttons until he finally just yelled "STOP!" and smashed his fist against the console. There was a loud "BANG!" and the TARDIS stopped moving entirely and the lights flickered out. "Fantastic."
***
"Good morning." Chuck shuffled down the hallway towards the kitchen. The Piemaker glanced up from his lukewarm coffee. She was beautiful; hand-me-down orange house dress and all. Her hair was held back with little white flower pins. "I hope that's not for me. My half-birthday's over." She gestured half-heartedly at the red box on the table and sat down.
Ned inhaled deeply and said, "The gifts I gave you before might trigger crisis and misery."
Chuck smirked. "Really? I hadn't noticed."
"Give this one a shot?" He looked through his lashes and watched her contemplate opening the gift. After a few moments, she lifted the lid of the box and set it inside. She picked up a heart-shaped frame and tilted her head, inspecting the photograph in the frame.
"I don't remember this picture. I remember the day, but, not the shot."
Ned smiled. "Because I took it. With my junior Insto-matic. It was the first time I met your aunts. They... were buzzing through town on the way to some far off and fantastic place."
Chuck relaxed and let her shoulders fall back. "I had almost forgotten those aunts." She squeezed the frame. "Thank you for reminding me."
The Piemaker's insides melted at her gratitude. They had argued the night before and Ned had slept on the couch. His melted insides solidified into a cold rock and he remembered what he was going to say. Chuck picked up Ned's coffee mug and took a sip.
"Chuck," he began, "I tried very hard to be a good boyfriend." She gazed at him from across the small table. "I believe that, every day, even in the smallest ways, I'd try to put your happiness before my own --"
"Yeah, I agree with that whole-heartedly." Chuck interrupted, shaking her head.
"I've been lying to you." She tilted her head and waited for him to explain. He looked down at the woven placemat and bounced his leg nervously. "Not that it's any kind of excuse but I think it's because I've been lying to myself, too. If Lily and Vivian kn-knew you were still alive the only person in danger would be me." Chuck unlaced her fingers from the coffee mug and set the now empty mug on the table. She clasped her hands together and leaned her elbows on the edge of the table. "And the danger itself is a lie; it's irrational fear in dangerous clothing and it's whispering in my ear saying 'Chuck loves her mother and aunt so much that there's no way she would want to spend her life with you if she... could still be with them' and so I put my happiness first, and... told everyone that no one could know you were alive again." He stared through the placemat and pouted. "Especially Lily and Vivian Charles."
"You didn't know what you were doing," she tried to console him. If she could touch him without dying, she would have rested her hand on his and squeezed it.
"I do now." Ned nodded and glanced off to the side. "And now... I'm finally putting your happiness before my own."
Chuck opened her mouth to speak, tears filling her eyes as she saw the tears forming in her boyfriend's. Her voice escaped her, so she pulled back her hand and laced her fingers back together. She squeezed her own hands together.
The Piemaker had finally done something right. And less than an hour later, the Piemaker and the girl named Chuck found themselves standing on the porch of the Charles' house. He was in his finest suit, and she wore her favourite white sundress. He held a bottle of wine, her a bouquet of daisies.
She looked up at him, as if asking for permission, and he jerked his head towards the door, grinning. Chuck leaned forward and rang the doorbell. Ned rocked back and forth on his feet: toe heel, toe heel. He nervously cleared his throat.
"Maybe they're out?" Ned suggested when neither aunt had come to the door. Chuck leaned to her left to peer into the window.
"No, they're here. I can see them." She leaned forward again and rang the doorbell. The door whipped open and two obviously upset aunts stood in the doorway. Ned smiled awkwardly and held up the bottle of wine, knowing that Lily would enjoy it. Instead, the women simply stared at Chuck, mouths open, eyes wide.
"Lily? Vivian?" Chuck asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm alive."
***