Fic: Time and Space
Title: Time and Space
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine
Rating: PG
Word Count:2,656
Summary: Bret McClegnie had, up to this point, always lived a rather average, normal life.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FOTC or Doctor Who or anything fun really.
Warning: Pre-slash...what? For me this IS a warning, lol.
Notes: This is probably the crackiest thing I’ve written in a long time. This was inspired by sm_ooch's picture of Jemaine as Doctor Who.
Bret McClegnie had, up to this point, always lived a rather average, normal life.
He woke up every day (usually a bit past 10) and ate breakfast (cereal, bread, sometimes toasted, sometimes not) in front of the television. He followed this by going back to bed again only to wake up a bit before noon to go to his job as a Shepard (an honest and proud profession to have in New Zealand).
He would watch the flock for about an hour or so, and then find a nice shady tree to nap under. After a half an hour or so of this, he typically awoke to check on the herd. Assuming they were all there, and none had managed to sneak out of the paddock with the need to be shepherded back into the group, he would have a spot of lunch and then pull out his guitar, which he often kept with him, and he would play a tune.
Bret loved music and he had a rather nifty knack for it. Lyrics and notes came easily to him, and the sheep certainly seemed to enjoy his songs, especially the one he'd written about the green, green grass next to the brook where they drank water. He made sure to sing this song to them at least once every day, and their (what he perceived to be) happy 'baa's' assured him that his 'gig' had gone well.
After his work was done and all the sheep were accounted for and put away for the evening, he returned home to a simple supper and a nice sleep which always irrevocably lead into another average, normal day the next, well...day.
This was what made today such an odd day.
Instead of waking at a little past ten, Bret found himself shaken (rather roughly) awake before eight. Bret sat up in bed and yawned, scratching at his back and then rubbing his eyes. He hardly ever got up this early. He frowned at his clock and felt the whole of his house shake violently.
A tremor?
Here?
Now?
Bret rose from bed and felt a bit unsteady on his feet as he walked towards his tiny kitchen, his mind set on breakfast. He couldn't even grab the cereal box before everything shook again, this time even worse than before.
Bret, slightly concerned, decided to forgo food in favor of finding out what exactly was going on to cause such a ruckus. He was just about to go towards his television when he heard the oddest buzzing sound.
Bret cocked his head to one side, wondering where it was coming from when suddenly his front door burst opened and a man just let himself inside. The man shut the door firmly behind him, then pointed something at the knob. The something, which looked like a small metal pen, glowed faintly blue at one end as it emitted that queer buzzing noise again.
The man put the device away and then turned to face him.
Bret blinked, his mouth flapping silently for a few moments, as he took in the man before him. He had sort of long, thick dark hair and sideburns. He wore a pair of glasses and a rather shabby looking suit. However, the most notable thing about him was his lips. For some reason they made Bret think of pillows or couch cushions. Lyrics floated into his mind but he quickly batted them away to focus on the moment at hand.
Some strange man had just broken into his home.
He should say something.
"Um...hello?"
"Hello," The man returned quickly, his hands going into his pockets.
They both stood in silence, staring at one another.
Bret scratched at the back of his head.
The man rocked on his heels a little, eyes starting to dart about, taking in his surroundings.
Bret coughed.
The man licked his lips (those lips).
Bret rolled his shoulders.
The man let out a loud breath.
Bret finally spoke again, "Uh...not to bother you but, well, urm, what are you doing?"
"Doing?" The man returned, his accent suggesting that he too, was from New Zealand.
"Yes."
"I'm...sorry, I don't think I understand the question..."
"Well, I mean...what are you doing...you know...here...in my house," Bret supplied, wishing to be as helpful as possible.
"Ah! Right...well...um...see, the thing is, there, well, there are aliens outside."
One of Bret's eyebrows rose, "Aliens?"
"Hmm, yes, that's right." the man said, nodding.
"Outside?"
"Yeah," the man said, this time with a bit more exasperation as he looked at Bret with his head slightly cocked, "Didn't you feel the ground move?"
"Yeah, sure, but...I mean...what does that have to do with aliens?"
The man rolled his eyes, "What's your name?"
"Bret."
"Well, Bret, aliens just have about everything to do with the ground moving. They're about to land their great, big, bloody space ship outside unless I stop them."
"Unless you stop them." Bret said this as more of a statement than as a question and the man made an affirmative noise as he went to one of Bret's windows and looked outside.
Bret took a tentative peek himself and, sure enough, a large circular disc hung heavily in the sky. It loomed like an ominous cloud and Bret regarded it with a cross between curiosity and nonchalance, "Huh. What do you know. It is a space ship."
"Right."
"With aliens."
"Right."
"...and you are?"
"Hrm?" the man finally looked away from the window and the ship and back to Bret.
"You never told me your name...are you, like, the alien ambassador or something?"
"No, no, I'm the Doctor."
"The doctor?"
"The Doctor."
"The alien doctor?"
"No, just the Doctor, capital 'D', though I am an alien, as a matter of fact."
Bret looked him up and down, “You don’t look like an alien.”
“How would you know? Met one before?”
Bret stuck out his bottom lip, nodding in agreement, “Point.”
There was a brief silence before Bret spoke again, "So...your name is the Doctor?"
"Yeah, been thinking of giving that a rest though, been going by that for a while now…‘bout…900 years, give or take. Thought about just going by John. I do that name now and again, but...mean...it doesn't seem to fit either…not anymore, anyway...think I should spice it up. Maybe go by, I dunno, Gerard or Jemaine or something..."
Bret shrugged simply, "I like Jemaine."
"It's all right."
"I think it's brilliant."
"I'll probably stick with the Doctor."
"Think I'll call you Jemaine."
"Or you could call me the Doctor."
"Or I could call you Jemaine, Jemaine," Bret insisted and the man, who would now be known as Jemaine (the Doctor), merely shrugged.
Bret studied him once more. He was a pretty big guy. But then, Bret supposed, he probably just seemed big because of his entrance and his title and all. Not to mention what he was most likely about to do...going out there, bandying about with aliens on spaceships and everything.
And too, there was the fact that Bret himself wasn't a very big guy. He sometimes even despaired at his own slim, skinniness. Eating would certainly help with that. Bret blinked at the realization that he still had had yet to have breakfast.
His whole day would be off now.
But then again, it had sort of been off ever since the whole shaking-ground-aliens-landing- Doctor-Jemaine-invading-his-home thing.
Bret suddenly noticed Jemaine looking at him rather intently. He didn't know why, but it made him blush a little, and he shifted from foot to foot. Jemaine cleared his throat as he scratched at the back of his head, looking slightly shy, "Don't...don't suppose you'd want to come with me?"
Bret made a questioning sound and Jemaine cleared his throat a second time, trying once more, "'S just...don't like going to these things alone, you know. Nice to have someone by your side."
"Like...a companion?"
"Yeah, that's right!" Jemaine said brightly and this was the first time Bret had seen him look so, well, happy. And that look on his face, well, it made Bret's blush worse.
Bret looked down at his penguin pajamas and then at Jemaine's suit, "...should probably change first."
"Yeah, probably," Jemaine tossed out, then, apprehensively, "So...you'll come then?"
Bret shrugged, "Sure, man, why not?"
"Good, good," Jemaine said, his relief obvious.
Bret frowned a little, "Jemaine..."
"Doctor."
"Doctor Jemaine...why did you come here?"
"What?"
"Here...to my home."
"Oh, ah, yes, well...closest place to where the ship was landing...that and I wanted some tea. You wouldn't happen to have tea, would you?"
Bret merely pointed at a cabinet before disappearing into his bedroom to change. When he emerged, he wore plains jeans and a black shirt with a bear printed on it. He hoped the aliens wouldn’t be offended by the bear…he didn’t know why they would be, but then he didn’t know much about them. Nor about the man in his kitchen who was putting the kettle on to boil.
This realization made Bret slightly cautious, but as he watched Jemaine make the tea he couldn’t help but feel reassured somehow. It was so odd, but the man just made him feel at ease. Maybe it was because he was a Doctor.
Still, the aliens outside, whom Bret had yet to meet, were another matter entirely and he regarded the window warily as he asked, "What about the aliens...will they wait?"
"Wait?"
"For us to have tea."
"Yeah, probably, no reason for them not to."
This logic seemed sound to Bret, so he sat at his kitchen table and waited for Jemaine to finish making the tea. Once it was ready and they both had their cups, Bret found several questions coming to mind. In fact, there were so many that they started to compete for which one he would ask first, resulting in him saying the following, “But how are we…when did you…who are…what’s…?”
Jemaine blinked heavily, his attention taken away from his tea and returned to Bret as the younger man started rambling, “Hmm?”
Bret repeated his jumbled collection of questions and Jemaine scowled, “One at a time, Bret, one at a time.”
Bret took in a deep breath, trying to collect himself before he tried a third time, finally settling on one question, “So, Jemaine-“
“Doctor.”
“Jemaine,” Bret repeated, “What exactly do you…do?”
Jemaine seemed a bit taken aback, “What do I do?”
“Yeah, I mean, well, you’re the Doctor, right, and you’re an alien and they’re aliens and-”
Jemaine waved a hand, interrupting him, “Ah, right, okay, think I’ve got you. I’m a Time Lord.”
Bret’s eyes widened, “A Time Lord?”
Jemaine nodded, “That’s right. From Gallifrey.”
“Gallifrey?”
Jemaine nodded a second time and Bret whistled, “Wow. Impressive.”
“I know,” Jemaine said rather cockily, another one of those blush-inducing smiles on his face.
“What about those aliens out there, are they-?”
“No,” Jemaine said swiftly, “They’re not the same as me, they’re from…well, frankly, don’t know where they’re from. That’s what makes it fun.”
“Makes it fun?”
“Yeah, see, that’s what I do. I zip about time and space, meet new life forms, save the day and be just all around spectacular.”
“Time and-”
“Yeah, I’ve got a ship, takes me back and forth in time AND to other planets to boot.”
“Other planets?”
“Yeah.”
“So…like…there are all kinds of other aliens…”
“Yeah, there’s Slitheen and Axons and Bowieans-”
“Boweians?”
“Yes.”
“Like…David Bowie?”
“Yeah, you didn’t think he was from Earth, did you?”
Bret blinked, stunned, as Jemaine continued, “Yeah, his planet’s lovely but he came here to get away from the others…most everybody’s like him on his planet, but here he’s a bit more unique…real smart move on his part, when you think about it-”
“I love him music.” Bret blurted and he immediately felt a bit foolish for stating that so baldly, but Jemaine didn’t seem to mind, “Me too…matter of fact, I rather do like music…huh…funny…didn’t think about that much when…yeah, but, no, this time around…think I’m really rather into music. Feel like I could even-”
“I play the guitar,” Bret supplied, again, feeling silly. What would a Time…man from Gallfred or whatever, who can travel through time and space, care about the fact that he could play the guitar?
But much to his surprise, Jemaine now looked genuinely interested, “Can you?”
Bret nodded and he got to his feet. Once he retrieved his instrument, he strummed out a few chords and, not meeting Jemaine’s eyes, sang a little, “Time and space, time and space…play a bit of bass, in time and space…”
“Hrm, the bass,” Jemaine muttered under his breath, “Bet I could play that…”
Bret, not hearing him and now more focused on the song that was spontaneously coming to him, continued, “…You could make a heart race, playing bass in space…”
“You’re good,” Jemaine announced and Bret still wouldn’t meet his eyes as another blush came upon him, his voice sort of quiet as he stopped playing and spoke, “Think so?”
Jemaine nodded, and, more to himself than to Bret, said, “Think I’ll have to get myself a bass…should have one on the Tardis…”
Bret’s attention focused on the word he didn’t recognize, “The…the Tardis?”
“Yeah, the ship I mentioned earlier,” Jemaine said, a little smugly, “My ship. The one that takes me through time and space, ‘s called the Tardis. Means Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. Like I said, travelin’ through time and space, exploring and adventuring-”
“And…you do that all on your own?”
Jemaine looked around a bit shiftily, “Not all the time.”
“But right now-?”
“Alone, yes. Unless, I mean, you said-”
Bret dipped his head to one side, “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming with you.”
“Okay, yes, good, good,” Jemaine said hastily and he took one last big swig of his tea before standing up, “Best get started then.”
Bret put his guitar to one side and then held his hands out, a tad nervous, “How do I look?”
Jemaine’s brow furrowed and Bret explained, “Gonna meet aliens for the first time, mate, got to look my best.”
“You just met me. I’m your first alien.” Jemaine said this in an almost possessive way that made Bret’s heart squeeze, causing his voice to come out a bit breathy as he replied, “Oh…right…but…met you in my jams-”
“And you looked fantastic,” Jemaine assured him and Bret really, really, really wished he would stop blushing as surely Jemaine would soon notice that his new companion’s face was constantly changing color.
“Yeah, but, still, I mean-”
Jemaine sighed heavily, his hands going to his pockets, “‘M not the best judge, Bret, mean, ‘s bit weird…telling a man if he looks good or not…seems a bit-”
“But you just said-”
Jemaine let out a disgruntled sound, “You look fine, all right, can we go, please?”
Bret nodded, resigned, “Okay, okay…should I…do I need to bring anything?”
“No, no, no, should be fine, let’s just,” Jemaine stopped mid sentence, suddenly thoughtful, “Um, actually…if you want…maybe the guitar.”
Bret blinked, “Really?”
“Mmm…yeah. Yeah, bring it. Song you sang was a good…needs some work…I can probably make it better, but, you know, I mean…yeah, bring it…”
Bret grabbed his guitar and felt a small, strange smile take his face as he followed Jemaine outside. All he could seem to think of all the sudden was how, up to this point, he had always lived a rather average, normal life.
He got the feeling that all that was going to change.
And as Bret stepped outside and saw Jemaine unlock the small blue police box and step inside, beckoning him to come in, he knew that he couldn’t be happier about it.
This was actually a lot of fun to write. I could see myself writing more of these. I kept imagining this weird blend of Jemaine and David Tennant when I read/wrote it though - still, HOT.
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine
Rating: PG
Word Count:2,656
Summary: Bret McClegnie had, up to this point, always lived a rather average, normal life.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FOTC or Doctor Who or anything fun really.
Warning: Pre-slash...what? For me this IS a warning, lol.
Notes: This is probably the crackiest thing I’ve written in a long time. This was inspired by sm_ooch's picture of Jemaine as Doctor Who.
Bret McClegnie had, up to this point, always lived a rather average, normal life.
He woke up every day (usually a bit past 10) and ate breakfast (cereal, bread, sometimes toasted, sometimes not) in front of the television. He followed this by going back to bed again only to wake up a bit before noon to go to his job as a Shepard (an honest and proud profession to have in New Zealand).
He would watch the flock for about an hour or so, and then find a nice shady tree to nap under. After a half an hour or so of this, he typically awoke to check on the herd. Assuming they were all there, and none had managed to sneak out of the paddock with the need to be shepherded back into the group, he would have a spot of lunch and then pull out his guitar, which he often kept with him, and he would play a tune.
Bret loved music and he had a rather nifty knack for it. Lyrics and notes came easily to him, and the sheep certainly seemed to enjoy his songs, especially the one he'd written about the green, green grass next to the brook where they drank water. He made sure to sing this song to them at least once every day, and their (what he perceived to be) happy 'baa's' assured him that his 'gig' had gone well.
After his work was done and all the sheep were accounted for and put away for the evening, he returned home to a simple supper and a nice sleep which always irrevocably lead into another average, normal day the next, well...day.
This was what made today such an odd day.
Instead of waking at a little past ten, Bret found himself shaken (rather roughly) awake before eight. Bret sat up in bed and yawned, scratching at his back and then rubbing his eyes. He hardly ever got up this early. He frowned at his clock and felt the whole of his house shake violently.
A tremor?
Here?
Now?
Bret rose from bed and felt a bit unsteady on his feet as he walked towards his tiny kitchen, his mind set on breakfast. He couldn't even grab the cereal box before everything shook again, this time even worse than before.
Bret, slightly concerned, decided to forgo food in favor of finding out what exactly was going on to cause such a ruckus. He was just about to go towards his television when he heard the oddest buzzing sound.
Bret cocked his head to one side, wondering where it was coming from when suddenly his front door burst opened and a man just let himself inside. The man shut the door firmly behind him, then pointed something at the knob. The something, which looked like a small metal pen, glowed faintly blue at one end as it emitted that queer buzzing noise again.
The man put the device away and then turned to face him.
Bret blinked, his mouth flapping silently for a few moments, as he took in the man before him. He had sort of long, thick dark hair and sideburns. He wore a pair of glasses and a rather shabby looking suit. However, the most notable thing about him was his lips. For some reason they made Bret think of pillows or couch cushions. Lyrics floated into his mind but he quickly batted them away to focus on the moment at hand.
Some strange man had just broken into his home.
He should say something.
"Um...hello?"
"Hello," The man returned quickly, his hands going into his pockets.
They both stood in silence, staring at one another.
Bret scratched at the back of his head.
The man rocked on his heels a little, eyes starting to dart about, taking in his surroundings.
Bret coughed.
The man licked his lips (those lips).
Bret rolled his shoulders.
The man let out a loud breath.
Bret finally spoke again, "Uh...not to bother you but, well, urm, what are you doing?"
"Doing?" The man returned, his accent suggesting that he too, was from New Zealand.
"Yes."
"I'm...sorry, I don't think I understand the question..."
"Well, I mean...what are you doing...you know...here...in my house," Bret supplied, wishing to be as helpful as possible.
"Ah! Right...well...um...see, the thing is, there, well, there are aliens outside."
One of Bret's eyebrows rose, "Aliens?"
"Hmm, yes, that's right." the man said, nodding.
"Outside?"
"Yeah," the man said, this time with a bit more exasperation as he looked at Bret with his head slightly cocked, "Didn't you feel the ground move?"
"Yeah, sure, but...I mean...what does that have to do with aliens?"
The man rolled his eyes, "What's your name?"
"Bret."
"Well, Bret, aliens just have about everything to do with the ground moving. They're about to land their great, big, bloody space ship outside unless I stop them."
"Unless you stop them." Bret said this as more of a statement than as a question and the man made an affirmative noise as he went to one of Bret's windows and looked outside.
Bret took a tentative peek himself and, sure enough, a large circular disc hung heavily in the sky. It loomed like an ominous cloud and Bret regarded it with a cross between curiosity and nonchalance, "Huh. What do you know. It is a space ship."
"Right."
"With aliens."
"Right."
"...and you are?"
"Hrm?" the man finally looked away from the window and the ship and back to Bret.
"You never told me your name...are you, like, the alien ambassador or something?"
"No, no, I'm the Doctor."
"The doctor?"
"The Doctor."
"The alien doctor?"
"No, just the Doctor, capital 'D', though I am an alien, as a matter of fact."
Bret looked him up and down, “You don’t look like an alien.”
“How would you know? Met one before?”
Bret stuck out his bottom lip, nodding in agreement, “Point.”
There was a brief silence before Bret spoke again, "So...your name is the Doctor?"
"Yeah, been thinking of giving that a rest though, been going by that for a while now…‘bout…900 years, give or take. Thought about just going by John. I do that name now and again, but...mean...it doesn't seem to fit either…not anymore, anyway...think I should spice it up. Maybe go by, I dunno, Gerard or Jemaine or something..."
Bret shrugged simply, "I like Jemaine."
"It's all right."
"I think it's brilliant."
"I'll probably stick with the Doctor."
"Think I'll call you Jemaine."
"Or you could call me the Doctor."
"Or I could call you Jemaine, Jemaine," Bret insisted and the man, who would now be known as Jemaine (the Doctor), merely shrugged.
Bret studied him once more. He was a pretty big guy. But then, Bret supposed, he probably just seemed big because of his entrance and his title and all. Not to mention what he was most likely about to do...going out there, bandying about with aliens on spaceships and everything.
And too, there was the fact that Bret himself wasn't a very big guy. He sometimes even despaired at his own slim, skinniness. Eating would certainly help with that. Bret blinked at the realization that he still had had yet to have breakfast.
His whole day would be off now.
But then again, it had sort of been off ever since the whole shaking-ground-aliens-landing- Doctor-Jemaine-invading-his-home thing.
Bret suddenly noticed Jemaine looking at him rather intently. He didn't know why, but it made him blush a little, and he shifted from foot to foot. Jemaine cleared his throat as he scratched at the back of his head, looking slightly shy, "Don't...don't suppose you'd want to come with me?"
Bret made a questioning sound and Jemaine cleared his throat a second time, trying once more, "'S just...don't like going to these things alone, you know. Nice to have someone by your side."
"Like...a companion?"
"Yeah, that's right!" Jemaine said brightly and this was the first time Bret had seen him look so, well, happy. And that look on his face, well, it made Bret's blush worse.
Bret looked down at his penguin pajamas and then at Jemaine's suit, "...should probably change first."
"Yeah, probably," Jemaine tossed out, then, apprehensively, "So...you'll come then?"
Bret shrugged, "Sure, man, why not?"
"Good, good," Jemaine said, his relief obvious.
Bret frowned a little, "Jemaine..."
"Doctor."
"Doctor Jemaine...why did you come here?"
"What?"
"Here...to my home."
"Oh, ah, yes, well...closest place to where the ship was landing...that and I wanted some tea. You wouldn't happen to have tea, would you?"
Bret merely pointed at a cabinet before disappearing into his bedroom to change. When he emerged, he wore plains jeans and a black shirt with a bear printed on it. He hoped the aliens wouldn’t be offended by the bear…he didn’t know why they would be, but then he didn’t know much about them. Nor about the man in his kitchen who was putting the kettle on to boil.
This realization made Bret slightly cautious, but as he watched Jemaine make the tea he couldn’t help but feel reassured somehow. It was so odd, but the man just made him feel at ease. Maybe it was because he was a Doctor.
Still, the aliens outside, whom Bret had yet to meet, were another matter entirely and he regarded the window warily as he asked, "What about the aliens...will they wait?"
"Wait?"
"For us to have tea."
"Yeah, probably, no reason for them not to."
This logic seemed sound to Bret, so he sat at his kitchen table and waited for Jemaine to finish making the tea. Once it was ready and they both had their cups, Bret found several questions coming to mind. In fact, there were so many that they started to compete for which one he would ask first, resulting in him saying the following, “But how are we…when did you…who are…what’s…?”
Jemaine blinked heavily, his attention taken away from his tea and returned to Bret as the younger man started rambling, “Hmm?”
Bret repeated his jumbled collection of questions and Jemaine scowled, “One at a time, Bret, one at a time.”
Bret took in a deep breath, trying to collect himself before he tried a third time, finally settling on one question, “So, Jemaine-“
“Doctor.”
“Jemaine,” Bret repeated, “What exactly do you…do?”
Jemaine seemed a bit taken aback, “What do I do?”
“Yeah, I mean, well, you’re the Doctor, right, and you’re an alien and they’re aliens and-”
Jemaine waved a hand, interrupting him, “Ah, right, okay, think I’ve got you. I’m a Time Lord.”
Bret’s eyes widened, “A Time Lord?”
Jemaine nodded, “That’s right. From Gallifrey.”
“Gallifrey?”
Jemaine nodded a second time and Bret whistled, “Wow. Impressive.”
“I know,” Jemaine said rather cockily, another one of those blush-inducing smiles on his face.
“What about those aliens out there, are they-?”
“No,” Jemaine said swiftly, “They’re not the same as me, they’re from…well, frankly, don’t know where they’re from. That’s what makes it fun.”
“Makes it fun?”
“Yeah, see, that’s what I do. I zip about time and space, meet new life forms, save the day and be just all around spectacular.”
“Time and-”
“Yeah, I’ve got a ship, takes me back and forth in time AND to other planets to boot.”
“Other planets?”
“Yeah.”
“So…like…there are all kinds of other aliens…”
“Yeah, there’s Slitheen and Axons and Bowieans-”
“Boweians?”
“Yes.”
“Like…David Bowie?”
“Yeah, you didn’t think he was from Earth, did you?”
Bret blinked, stunned, as Jemaine continued, “Yeah, his planet’s lovely but he came here to get away from the others…most everybody’s like him on his planet, but here he’s a bit more unique…real smart move on his part, when you think about it-”
“I love him music.” Bret blurted and he immediately felt a bit foolish for stating that so baldly, but Jemaine didn’t seem to mind, “Me too…matter of fact, I rather do like music…huh…funny…didn’t think about that much when…yeah, but, no, this time around…think I’m really rather into music. Feel like I could even-”
“I play the guitar,” Bret supplied, again, feeling silly. What would a Time…man from Gallfred or whatever, who can travel through time and space, care about the fact that he could play the guitar?
But much to his surprise, Jemaine now looked genuinely interested, “Can you?”
Bret nodded and he got to his feet. Once he retrieved his instrument, he strummed out a few chords and, not meeting Jemaine’s eyes, sang a little, “Time and space, time and space…play a bit of bass, in time and space…”
“Hrm, the bass,” Jemaine muttered under his breath, “Bet I could play that…”
Bret, not hearing him and now more focused on the song that was spontaneously coming to him, continued, “…You could make a heart race, playing bass in space…”
“You’re good,” Jemaine announced and Bret still wouldn’t meet his eyes as another blush came upon him, his voice sort of quiet as he stopped playing and spoke, “Think so?”
Jemaine nodded, and, more to himself than to Bret, said, “Think I’ll have to get myself a bass…should have one on the Tardis…”
Bret’s attention focused on the word he didn’t recognize, “The…the Tardis?”
“Yeah, the ship I mentioned earlier,” Jemaine said, a little smugly, “My ship. The one that takes me through time and space, ‘s called the Tardis. Means Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. Like I said, travelin’ through time and space, exploring and adventuring-”
“And…you do that all on your own?”
Jemaine looked around a bit shiftily, “Not all the time.”
“But right now-?”
“Alone, yes. Unless, I mean, you said-”
Bret dipped his head to one side, “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming with you.”
“Okay, yes, good, good,” Jemaine said hastily and he took one last big swig of his tea before standing up, “Best get started then.”
Bret put his guitar to one side and then held his hands out, a tad nervous, “How do I look?”
Jemaine’s brow furrowed and Bret explained, “Gonna meet aliens for the first time, mate, got to look my best.”
“You just met me. I’m your first alien.” Jemaine said this in an almost possessive way that made Bret’s heart squeeze, causing his voice to come out a bit breathy as he replied, “Oh…right…but…met you in my jams-”
“And you looked fantastic,” Jemaine assured him and Bret really, really, really wished he would stop blushing as surely Jemaine would soon notice that his new companion’s face was constantly changing color.
“Yeah, but, still, I mean-”
Jemaine sighed heavily, his hands going to his pockets, “‘M not the best judge, Bret, mean, ‘s bit weird…telling a man if he looks good or not…seems a bit-”
“But you just said-”
Jemaine let out a disgruntled sound, “You look fine, all right, can we go, please?”
Bret nodded, resigned, “Okay, okay…should I…do I need to bring anything?”
“No, no, no, should be fine, let’s just,” Jemaine stopped mid sentence, suddenly thoughtful, “Um, actually…if you want…maybe the guitar.”
Bret blinked, “Really?”
“Mmm…yeah. Yeah, bring it. Song you sang was a good…needs some work…I can probably make it better, but, you know, I mean…yeah, bring it…”
Bret grabbed his guitar and felt a small, strange smile take his face as he followed Jemaine outside. All he could seem to think of all the sudden was how, up to this point, he had always lived a rather average, normal life.
He got the feeling that all that was going to change.
And as Bret stepped outside and saw Jemaine unlock the small blue police box and step inside, beckoning him to come in, he knew that he couldn’t be happier about it.
This was actually a lot of fun to write. I could see myself writing more of these. I kept imagining this weird blend of Jemaine and David Tennant when I read/wrote it though - still, HOT.