A Bit Like Santa's Elves
Title: A Bit Like Santa's Elves
Rating: PG
Pairing: Romana/Ten, Romana/Sarah, Romana/Martha
Spoilers: The end of 'Smith & Jones', but nothing terribly spoilery. Crackfic.
All in all, it wasn't a bad existence, Romana thought. It was better than being dead, after all. And at least it kept her busy. They'd come to an agreement, her and the Doctor. She'd have her own lab and a deluxe suite in the Tardis, on the condition that she'd make him a new sonic screwdriver every time he broke, lost or traded one in for a new companion. She added a clause about 'not letting any of your stupid apes disturb me, or I'll use them as subjects in an experiment', and she'd agreed to sign. In his blood.
After a while, though, making sonic screwdrivers did get a bit boring. So she played around a bit with the design, until she finally found something she wouldn't be ashamed to whip out in public. The Doctor hadn't been impressed, though.
"A sonic lipstick? What the hell am I going to do with a sonic lipstick? It isn't as though it's even in my colour."
Romana had refrained from pointing out that if he didn't spend quite so much time on 20th and 21st century Earth, where the gender stereotypes were still so boringly unevolved, he could take it anywhere and no-one would bat an eyelid. Still, she bit her tongue. He'd been awfully good about it - finding her after she'd snuck onboard the TARDIS during the Time War, and then going along with her suggestion about stopping it with a surprising lack of concern for the planet he was about to wipe out. "It's not as though we liked them anyway," she'd pointed out. "I mean, you're never there for one thing. And I can always find another planet to be president of." In the end, though, she'd had to advise him to tone down the celebrations somewhat, pointing out that going on an intergalactic piss-up after blowing up your homeworld was considered tasteless in some quarters. She'd given him some tips on brooding convincingly, and had bought him a book called '101 Euphemisms For Being The Last Of Your Terribly Advanced Race.' She'd marked various sections, and had been very pleased to hear some of them used on the rare occasions that she'd left her lab. The 'lonely god' one had been rather good, she thought.
Which brought her back to the sonic lipstick.
"Well, you don't have to use it."
"You could keep it."
"I already have one," she pointed out, waving it at him. Then she had an idea. "Well, what do you normally do when you have too many things that you don't know what to do with?"
"Throw them in the Too Many Things That I Don't Know What To Do With room?" he'd asked. "It's getting a bit full."
Romana rolled her eyes. "Think K9. Think all the ugly 1970s fashion you accumulated. You could..." she trailed off, waiting for the penny to drop. Rassilon, this one might be pretty but he wasn't exactly the brightest regeneration she'd ever encountered.
"Give it to Sarah Jane! Romana, that's a brilliant idea!" He'd kissed her then, and although she'd made a face, she was secretly quite glad. Anyway she liked Sarah. She was quite pretty, for a human, and she always had a bottle of wine or three in the fridge. Many was the night they'd spent on the sofa in her attic, getting drunk and complaining about the Doctor. Sometimes they even did it in front of him and made him cry, but he usually stopped when they started kissing each other.
So they went to Earth and gave Sarah the sonic lipstick, and Romana showed her the new settings she'd programmed in. It was for the best, really - the Doctor would never have known what to do with them and Romana was sick of giving him simplistic, five-syllable directions [or 'Foreplay for Dummies' as she'd christened it]. And when he showed up at the Tardis, wittering on about this new girl he'd met and how she was the best, most wonderful and useful person he'd ever met - apart from Romana, of course - she had sighed, and told him to go back and pick her up. By the time the Tardis had landed in London, a few wrong turns, a couple of accidental revolutions and one military coup later, Romana had rustled up a brand new sonic screwdriver and had retreated back to her lab.
Sometime later, Martha had been messing about with the sonic screwdriver when she came upon a rather odd message. It said If you're reading this, you're as clever as he says you are. Fancy a shag? There's a map to my rooms hidden at setting Alpha 746. Romana xxx
Rating: PG
Pairing: Romana/Ten, Romana/Sarah, Romana/Martha
Spoilers: The end of 'Smith & Jones', but nothing terribly spoilery. Crackfic.
All in all, it wasn't a bad existence, Romana thought. It was better than being dead, after all. And at least it kept her busy. They'd come to an agreement, her and the Doctor. She'd have her own lab and a deluxe suite in the Tardis, on the condition that she'd make him a new sonic screwdriver every time he broke, lost or traded one in for a new companion. She added a clause about 'not letting any of your stupid apes disturb me, or I'll use them as subjects in an experiment', and she'd agreed to sign. In his blood.
After a while, though, making sonic screwdrivers did get a bit boring. So she played around a bit with the design, until she finally found something she wouldn't be ashamed to whip out in public. The Doctor hadn't been impressed, though.
"A sonic lipstick? What the hell am I going to do with a sonic lipstick? It isn't as though it's even in my colour."
Romana had refrained from pointing out that if he didn't spend quite so much time on 20th and 21st century Earth, where the gender stereotypes were still so boringly unevolved, he could take it anywhere and no-one would bat an eyelid. Still, she bit her tongue. He'd been awfully good about it - finding her after she'd snuck onboard the TARDIS during the Time War, and then going along with her suggestion about stopping it with a surprising lack of concern for the planet he was about to wipe out. "It's not as though we liked them anyway," she'd pointed out. "I mean, you're never there for one thing. And I can always find another planet to be president of." In the end, though, she'd had to advise him to tone down the celebrations somewhat, pointing out that going on an intergalactic piss-up after blowing up your homeworld was considered tasteless in some quarters. She'd given him some tips on brooding convincingly, and had bought him a book called '101 Euphemisms For Being The Last Of Your Terribly Advanced Race.' She'd marked various sections, and had been very pleased to hear some of them used on the rare occasions that she'd left her lab. The 'lonely god' one had been rather good, she thought.
Which brought her back to the sonic lipstick.
"Well, you don't have to use it."
"You could keep it."
"I already have one," she pointed out, waving it at him. Then she had an idea. "Well, what do you normally do when you have too many things that you don't know what to do with?"
"Throw them in the Too Many Things That I Don't Know What To Do With room?" he'd asked. "It's getting a bit full."
Romana rolled her eyes. "Think K9. Think all the ugly 1970s fashion you accumulated. You could..." she trailed off, waiting for the penny to drop. Rassilon, this one might be pretty but he wasn't exactly the brightest regeneration she'd ever encountered.
"Give it to Sarah Jane! Romana, that's a brilliant idea!" He'd kissed her then, and although she'd made a face, she was secretly quite glad. Anyway she liked Sarah. She was quite pretty, for a human, and she always had a bottle of wine or three in the fridge. Many was the night they'd spent on the sofa in her attic, getting drunk and complaining about the Doctor. Sometimes they even did it in front of him and made him cry, but he usually stopped when they started kissing each other.
So they went to Earth and gave Sarah the sonic lipstick, and Romana showed her the new settings she'd programmed in. It was for the best, really - the Doctor would never have known what to do with them and Romana was sick of giving him simplistic, five-syllable directions [or 'Foreplay for Dummies' as she'd christened it]. And when he showed up at the Tardis, wittering on about this new girl he'd met and how she was the best, most wonderful and useful person he'd ever met - apart from Romana, of course - she had sighed, and told him to go back and pick her up. By the time the Tardis had landed in London, a few wrong turns, a couple of accidental revolutions and one military coup later, Romana had rustled up a brand new sonic screwdriver and had retreated back to her lab.
Sometime later, Martha had been messing about with the sonic screwdriver when she came upon a rather odd message. It said If you're reading this, you're as clever as he says you are. Fancy a shag? There's a map to my rooms hidden at setting Alpha 746. Romana xxx