Whooligans Contest- The Fic Side!
It's time for the first half of the Whooligans contest! I decided to split the contest into three awards- Whooligan favorite, WhooliFan art, and WhooliFan fic. WhooliFan Fics is first- Using the numbers beside each fic, vote in the comments for the fic you feel best continues the Whooligans spirit and crack that it inspired! Deviantart and Livejournal votes will be compared (only vote once!) and compiled until 12pm EST Sunday, february 11th. Winners announced and contacted that night.
1.
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Untitled by Ozodrac
The Doctor sat at the bar feeling sorry for himself. It didn’t happen very often, he reasoned, so he should be allowed at least one night of self-pity. Using the shot glasses, he had built a vast glittering structure, dominating the counter. It had started off small, just five or six glasses built into a pyramid, but someone like the Doctor wasn’t going to stop there, and it had grown into this glass monstrosity, complete with battlements, towers and buttresses. The barman was removing the glasses as carefully as he dared, but the Doctor retrieved them almost as soon as the barman had cleaned them and replaced them on the mound again. Still, the barman couldn’t complain - the gent in the suit had been in the bar for well over four hours, and despite drinking incessantly had completely failed to pass the friendly drunk stage. He had become mildly intoxicated, but no more. The barman was quietly impressed, and anyway, he was good for business. However, he felt the time had come to make a move.
Before he could act, however, the Doctor made a pre-emptive strike, pushing the only glass near him that was not part of the construction across the counter.
“Ano’her ‘ne,” he mumbled. The barman smiled sympathetically.
“Haven’t you had enough, sir?” he asked. “You came in here before six, and it’s now well past ten. And of course, there’s the small affair - well, rather a large affair, actually - of your bill.”
The Doctor waved a hand expressively, knocking one of the glass towers off its balance. “If I’d though I’d had enough, I wouldn’t ask for another one, would I?” he said, as the barman caught the falling glasses and replaced them gently on the counter.
The barman smiled again. “Just as you say, sir.” He turned to the bottles behind him, and after mixing about seven different ingredients together, passed the glass back. The Doctor eyed the concoction suspiciously.
“Is this what I asked for?” he demanded, prodding the glass with a long finger.
“Yes sir,” said the barman. “It’s what you asked for when you came into the bar, sir.” He paused for a second, lest his manner had become a shade too patronising. His fears were well founded. The Doctor rounded on him like a wounded wolf.
“No, it’s not what I bloody well asked for,” he snapped, all traces of drunkenness replaced by anger. “Cos… cos…” he paused, unsure of himself. He recovered fast - “It doesn’t have a banana in it, does it?”
The barman looked askance at him. “You want a banana in your drink, sir?”
The Doctor smiled. “That’s what I said. Peeled, mind,” he added, as the barman turned away. The barman sighed, but the Doctor had already turned back to the glasses, replacing them in the correct places in the edifice.
But there, I’ve overshot; started the story a month or so too late. That’s what comes of time travel - you get your times mixed up. And precisely because time travel mucks up time, to get to the start of the story we need to go back not just a month or so, but several hundred years, to Scotland. Picture the scene. The desolate house on the moors, the full moon, the cool wind… Very picturesque. Or it would be, if it weren’t for the screams coming from inside the house, and the ring of men in red with muskets surrounding the house.
Now we move inside the house, to the attic. Running feet, a howl, a blinding flash of light, and it’s all over. Or so we think.
Let me pose a what-if scenario: What if it was not the queen who got wounded in the frantic chase up the stairs, but the man trying to save her? And let us take this scenario a stage further - what if this is not just a what-if scenario, but the truth? After all, you can’t believe everything you see on TV…
The Doctor sighed, and sipped his drink. It did have a banana in it (peeled), although what it was doing there he couldn’t remember. There was also (a nice touch) a thin slice of banana impaled on the rim of the glass, occupying the same place that a slice of lemon would on a rather more conventional drink. He sighed again, just for the hell of it.
It wasn’t all bad, he said to himself. But then, once you’d said that, you’d said everything. Alright, being practically immortal was hardly a downside, but there were, as they said, side effects. And not just side effects, but left, right and centre effects as well. The craving for raw meat was one of them, although he managed to keep that under control for most of the month.
Then there was the matter of… changing. He’d found that depending on the time of the month, his shape changed. He could change from human to wolf at any time - it was only in the light of the full moon that he had to change - but when he chose to change, which was possible by concentrating very hard, his wolf form was different every time. After a while, he had learnt to link this with the passing of the moon - if he shifted at the new moon, he was basically a humanoid with a wolf’s head and a rather hairy torso, and he could walk on two legs. But as the moon waxed, his form became more and more wolf-like, until at the full moon he was just a normal, albeit very intelligent, wolf.
As far as he could see, Rose was fine with it. From her point of view, it was just like having a big dog, which happened to be able to clean up after himself and take himself for walks. In fact, thought the Doctor, she seemed very happy with his new, more muscular shape, especially after that time when he had saved her from the Weevil. She had been very grateful…
He broke off this train of thought when he saw the barman staring with a sort of pop-eyed shock at his hand. He looked down, and saw to his horror that his hand had changed to a paw. With immense presence of mind he changed it back, and smiled at the barman. “Yes?” he said.
“Your hand…” murmured the barman.
The Doctor waved the offending article. “This hand?” he said. “Looks like a perfectly ordinary hand to me. What about it?” With a little groan, the barman tottered off. The Doctor pulled himself together. The alcohol was probably affecting his morphenogenic field. The barman was right - he had had enough. He pulled out his wallet, and placed a pile of notes on the counter. They probably covered his bill.
The cooler air of the street outside was a welcome relief after the hot atmosphere of the bar. He had only walked a quarter of the way along the street when he saw Rose, coming out of a Marks and Spencer, her arms laden with shopping bags. He ambled towards her, hands in pockets, and grinned. She smiled.
“There you are!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
The Doctor eyed the bags. “What, in the freezer section of Marks and Sparks?”
She prodded him playfully. “We’ve got to eat, haven’t we?” she demanded. “You more than most.” She opened one of the bags to reveal several packs of raw meat.
“Lovely.”
Rose sniffed. “Doctor, you’re drunk!”
The Doctor drew himself up to his full height, and looked down his nose. “Nonsense!” he retorted. “I’m as sober as whassisname.”
Rose shook her head. “Is that where you’ve been all this time - in the pub?”
“Perhaps.”
“Honestly - I only let you out of my sight for a moment and you’re on to the booze like a flash. Why the need to drink?”
The Doctor shrugged. “Drowning my sorrows? Anyway, the need to drink is better than the need to feed.”
“Maybe you’re right. What sorrows?”
“Well, the fleas for one,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck.
Rose recoiled. “Fleas?” she squealed. “Well, just don’t come near me, then.” She thrust the bags at him. “Here, you carry these.” They continued their walk down the high street towards the car park near to which they had lodged the Tardis. The Doctor tried to scratch his shoulder with his ear, his hands being full, and Rose tutted.
“Really, Doctor. I said you should get a flea collar.”
The Doctor waved his hands about, a feat made remarkable considering his hands were full of shopping. Superhuman strength has some advantages. “A collar!” he scoffed. “With this suit? It’d ruin my appearance.”
Rose laughed. “Is that really so important?”
“Of course,” replied the Doctor. “I’ve got to take good care of this body - it’s certifiably sexy.”
“Yer wot?”
“No jokes,” said the Doctor, grinning. “There’s a stamp on me proving it. I found it one day in the shower. Gave me a right turn, I’ll tell you. Never happened to me before, though I did hear it happened to a female Time Lord a few centuries ago. It makes sense,” doesn’t it,” he said, turning the corner into the car park. “I mean, this is my tenth body now; it’s only fair that I should get a good looking one eventually.”
Rose giggled. “And don’t the flea bites change that? Knowing that a guy’s crawling with the things makes him considerably less sexy. You’re having a flea bath when we get back to the Tardis. I’m sure there’s one in there somewhere.”
The Doctor grimaced. “Where the hell did the fleas come from, though?” he pondered. “I mean, I haven’t been rubbing shoulders with any dogs lately, and they can’t just turn up, can they?”
Rose shrugged. “Dunno. Anyway,” she said. “We’re here now. Got the key?”
The Doctor put the bags down, and looked along the alleyway. It was deserted. He was drawing out the key from his pocket when he heard Rose cry out. He spun round, and saw a man in a dark coat and a beard holding a knife to Rose’s throat. How he had got there he had no idea.
The man grinned unpleasantly. “Gimme your money, or the girl gets it,” he spat.
The Doctor smiled pleasantly. “I’m afraid I don’t have any money,” he said. “And now, let her go.”
“You joking? Posh bloke like you, bags of cash. Turn out your pockets.”
The Doctor sucked his teeth, and put his hands in his pockets. “I’m giving you one last chance,” he said. “I’m a fair man. Let her go.”
“No way.”
“Oh, alright, then.” He took his hand out of his pocket, and dangled the key to Tardis from one outstretched finger. Then, almost carelessly, he tossed the key high into the air. It twisted and spun in the glow of the street lights, and the eyes of the mugger followed it. As it was reaching the peak of its flight, the Doctor shouted “Rose, run!” and drew the Screwdriver from his other pocket. It hummed, and the knife grew red hot in the man’s hand. A second later it clattered on the cobbles. Rose twisted out of the man’s grip, grabbed the key as it fell, and ran for the Tardis. The door clicked behind her. From inside his coat, the man drew an even larger knife. The blade flicked out, curved and evil. Without warning, he lashed out at the Doctor, who threw himself backwards to avoid the blow. As he fell, his hands came into contact with the rails that lined the street, and with an immense feat of muscle control, flipped himself backwards so that he was standing on the rails. The man hacked at his feet, but the Doctor jumped over the blade and landed on the hand of the stranger, who yowled and dropped the knife. A swift kick in the teeth, and the would-be mugger was lying groaning on his back. The Doctor leant over him, and wagged a finger.
“I told you,” he said. “It’s not my fault you wouldn’t listen.”
The man grunted, and his arm came swinging up, holding a third knife.
It is a well known fact to those who study the subject that bodies have a mind of their own. Reflex actions occur without any consent of their owner, operated deep on a primal level within the body. Another good example of such reactions are those which take place within the cerebellum - the flight or fight syndrome, for instance. Of course, in a body with more than one shape available, then a whole new dimension is added to the arena. Which is why the mugger’s arm froze in mid-flight, suddenly transfixed by terror. Then he scrambled to his feet and ran. Wouldn’t you, if you were suddenly faced with a giant wolf, even one wearing the remains of a suit and trying to say “bugger”?
The wolf shuffled off behind the Tardis. A second or so later the growlings of the wolf changed into the mutterings of the man. “Bloody bodies not doing what they’re told to damn all werewolves…” The Doctor emerged, wrapping his split suit around him, and trying to look inconspicuous. As fate would have it, the alleyway, previously empty, was now crowded with a group of shoppers taking a shortcut between streets. Blushing fiercely, the Doctor ran to the door of the Tardis, and pulled it open. Rose was waiting, leaning on the main console with a grin on her face.
“Who’s been a good dog, then,” she said. “I was watching,” she explained, waving a hand at the camera. “Very impressive, I thought.”
“I’m glad you think so,” replied the Doctor, pleased despite himself. “Now, I’m just going to go and change, and then-”
“Oh no you don’t!” said Rose. “This is the perfect opportunity to test what you were telling me about earlier.”
“Eh?”
“The sexiness mark?” prompted Rose. “You were bragging about it earlier?”
The Doctor’s face broke into a wide grin. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll give you three minutes to find it.”
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2.
Whooligans - Plushie Power
-by SaratheChipmunk
The Doctor and Rose were sitting in the TARDIS, wondering what to do.
"Well, we could go back to New Earth and wander around there for a bit.." Rose suggested.
"Nah, been there, done that, got the T-shirt," the Doctor replied, sighing. After a couple minutes silence, he said, "Hey, what about Japan? Japan's an interesting place."
"Yeah, it is!" Rose grinned.
"But if we go to Japan.." the Doctor grinned back, "We have to go to Tokyo."
"Yes! I've always wanted to visit Tokyo!" Rose almost screamed.
"And now you can go there in a matter of seconds" the Doctor boasted. Rose rolled her eyes.
Exactly as the Doctor said, they were there in a matter of seconds. Rose bounded out of the TARDIS into the fresh air. She turned to see the Doctor leaning on the TARDIS's door frame. He was looking into the sky. It looked to Rose like he was listening for something.
"What is it?" Rose asked. He shushed her. "This is what I get for being concerned," she thought to herself.
"I can hear something.." he said with that confused look on his face.
"Something?"
"I can hear.. A festival!" He ran inside the TARDIS again and checked the date on the screen. "Just as I thought!" he laughed as Rose approached him.
"What is it? Where are we?"
"We're in Japan, Rose. I'm not that bad." He rolled his eyes. "No, it's the date. Look." He pointed at the screen. Rose read the date.
"The third of March. What's so special about that?"
"Nothing to you, you London-girl." He gave her a light ruffle of the hair. "No, in Japan, the third of March is known as the girl's festival." Rose looked confused. "In other words, girls are pampered and traditionally.. get money. But!" He laughed at Rose's expression. "But, I will get you a present instead."
"Oh, Doctor, you don't have to. We're only visiting and"
"No, it's Japanese tradition, and I'm a very cultural person." He winked and she smiled. "So.. Want your present?"
"What?! You have it now? Already?!" Rose said shocked.
"You didn't think I'd randomly land on the day March the third in Tokyo, Japan for nothing do you?" he grinned and ran into the room where he kept all his outfits.
"What did he go in there for?" Rose chuckled in a confused way.
Around five minutes later Rose was sitting on the TARDIS sofa looking at the nobs and buttons on the consol, when the Doctor poked his head round the door.
"Hello" Rose smiled.
"Hi" the Doctor said.
"You coming in or just your head?" She laughed and he sort of blushed. He walked in and as he did Rose's mouth dropped.
"Do you like it?"
Rose got up from her seat. "Oh, Doctor! It's beautiful!"
"It's for you, as your Girl's Festival day gift." He looked at the floor.
"Really?!" He nodded. "Oh my God, thank you so much!!" She threw herself at him and he held her in a hug. When she got down he handed her the kimono.
"Go put it on then" he grinned and leaned in to her a little. "I'll be waiting."
Rose emerged from her room about 10 minutes later, wearing her beautiful new kimono. "Festival?"
The Doctor smiled and then ran to the TARDIS door. As they left he locked it and they stood and watched the festival for a minute, before they headed down the hill towards it.
They joined it and Rose almost blended in. The Doctor stood out amoung the crowd.
"Oh, wow! Japanese festivals are fantastic! Look at those cute little kittens!" Rose pointed at something in the crowd.
"Hello Kitties, yes?" the Doctor said looking at them.
"Yeah.." Rose looked at him funny, "How do you know about girly little kittens?"
"I, er, I.." he blushed. "Let's go over there." The Doctor indicated a grey door, which stood out umoung the bright colours.
"Why? I want to saty and watch the parade!" Rose jumped as delicately as she could in her kimono to see over everyone.
"Ok, you stay here. I'm going in there." He slipped off silently and approached the door. Rose rolled her eyes and moved quickly and swiftly in the other direction.
As the Doctor got to the door he got out his sonic screwdriver, keeping it close so as not to be seen, and opened the door. He slipped inside and left the door open a crack.
"You should never shut a mysterious door behind you" he muttered to himself. Now, he was in complete darkness, so he set the sonic screwdriver in a particular way and pressed the button. The light turned on. He was in a dank, dark corridor. It was very long. He began to walk down the the other end, where he heard paper rustling. His converse made almost no sound on the floor, but as he approached the door, he heard the sounds stop, and then footsteps running off. He jogged a little faster towards the door, but when he got there, he just found blueprints and some metal. As he looked around the room, he realised there was no door that the thing could have left through. Apparently, it was in the room. He just hoped it didn't know he was there.
Just as he hoped this, he heard a familiar voice call his name.
"Doctor! Doctor, you in here?"
He poked his head round the door and whispered, "Rose, hush! Someone's here."
"Someone?" He indicated the blueprints, and then a cupboard.
"They're in the cupboard?" Rose whispered.
"I think they are.. Let's check."
"What?! You may be able to regenerate, but I can't! I have to look after this body!" She indicated herself, then the Doctor noticed something.
"Why aren't you wearing your kimono? Did you not like it? I can get you something else?" he said, his eyebrows furrowed.
"No! I love it!" she smiled.
"Then why aren't you wearing it?" he had a sad look on his face.
"I saw the look on your ace in that crowd, I know when you think there's trouble. And if there's trouble, we'll end up running at some point. Me, running in a kimono? I don't think so." She crossed her arms. He chuckled.
"Ok, just wondered." He smiled at her in his little way. Then, something rustled in the cupboard. The door opened slightly. A worried looking girl showed her pale face. She had a short pink dress on, long blond curly hair and green eyes.
"Hey, are you ok?" the Doctor put out his hand to help her out of the cupboard. She hesitated.
Rose leaned forward and said "Don't worry, he doesn't bite." The girl toom his hand and got out of the cupboard.
"So, what's your name? Why were you hinding in the cupboard? What are those blueprints for?"
"Doctor!" Rose said, shocked.
"What?"
"She's stunned, stop questioning her!" She sat the girl down at the table. "Hello. I'm Rose and this is the Doctor." She indicated the guy in the brown suit and trainers.
"Hi" he said.
"Hello" she said.
"Doctor, is she Japanese?" Rose asked.
"Does she look Japanese? She's English, I can tell."
"Yes, I come from England. Where are you from?" she asked.
"Well, I'm from England too. I come from London."
"Me too!" the girl smiled. "What about you, Mr.. Doctor?"
"It's just, the Doctor, and I don't come from England, but let's not get into that."
"Yes, let's not." Rose said. She turned back to the girl. "What's your name?"
"My name is Lily."
"Nice to meet you Lily" the Doctor sighed.
"Yes. It is." Rose said with an annoyed face.
"Lily, can I ask you some questions? Are you ok now?"
"Why and what do you want to know, Doctor?" Lily asked him.
"I want to know why you hid in the cupboard when you heard me coming. I want to know what those blueprints are for. I want to know why you're in here."
"Ok, I'll answer your questions. I just ask for one thing in return."
"What do you want?" the Doctor asked.
"I would like you to keep me safe."
"From what?"
"The people who are taking us."
"Who is us?" Rose asked worridly.
"Everyone. Little girls, a bit younger than me or my age, have been dissapearing lately."
"How?"
"I don't know, they just vanish. Noone knows where they are or even who has them. On eminutes they're with their parents and families, the next they're gone. It's just been this week. The week building up to the girl's festival."
"What are you doing here?"
"Doctor! Don't be so rude!"
"No, Rose. It's a prefectly good question." She turned to the Doctor. "I am here, because I anted to find the little people in the Hello Kitty suits, I really like Hello Kitty. Childish, I know, but they're cute. I just wanted to meet one and then I could go back to England with my parents. I saw some come in here earlier so I followed them. I found this room and the blueprints. I don't know what they're for." The Doctor was looking at them with his black-rimmed glasses on.
"No, me neither, and that's saying something." He put them down and put his glasses away. "All we have to do now is-"
"*Bring bring* *Bring bring*" went Lily's phone. She answered it.
"Hello? Mum, I- Mum, can I stay a little longer? I haven't found them yet. I like them, mum! Look, I want to find them. I'm not lost, I've found two adults to help me around. No, mum, they're safe. One's from England. How do I know? She told me. He didn't say where he was from. What's wrong with him being a he? Around 35, maybe? Oh, mum! I'm ok. Stop worrying. Mum! Mum, stop it. I'm staying until I find them. Mum, listen- But- Muuum! Urgh, ok. I'll meet you outside the little grey door. Ok, bye." She pressed the red button.
"Mother?" Rose asked. Lily nodded. "Can be annoying at times, can't they."
"Yeah.." She sighed. "I have to go. Will I see you around?"
"I don't think so kiddo." the Doctor said.
"Why not?" she asked.
"We're travellers, we don't stay in one place. We'll be gone by tomorrow morning."
"Oh.. Ok. Well, Rose. Doctor. It was nice meeting you two. I hope you find out the mystery, as I can't. I hope I find out though. Good luck you two!" She hugged Rose and shook the Doctor's hand. She then skipped off up the grey and dim corridor, making it look so happy.
"She's so innocent.." The Doctor said. "Now, we have to go too. But not out the door: Into the building."
They were walking further down the corridor when they saw a room with white walls and a couple of wardrobes. They walked in.
"Now, we're looking for the folks responsible for the dissapearances, so be careful.." the Doctor said looking around the room.
"Ok, Doctor..." Rose said looking at him.
A couple of minutes later, two Hello Kitty's came out of the wardrobes with a little lazer gun type thing in one of their hands.
"Who are you cute little guys? Have you seen anything unusual?" the Doctor leaned down to their size.
"Erm, Doctor?" Rose said.
"One minute, Rose."
"No, Doctor."
"Rose, please."
"Doctor!"
"What?!!"
"Look.." He turned and looked at the kittens. The gun started to glow blue and the last thing the Doctor remembered later was an incredibly bright blue light.
Rose dropped down to the floor, shocked and horrified. The Doctor lay there looking at Rose.
"Rose, why do you look so big?" He tried to sit up; he couldn't. He tried to move his hands; he couldn't. Rose picked him up.
"You're a.. doll." She looked so shocked.
After at least half an hour of recovering, Rose picked him up and they walked out of the building. He sat quietly in her arms so as not to be noticed as a talking doll.
When they got back to the TARDIS, Rose got out her key, as the Doctor's was now too small to fit in the door. She sat on the sofa holding him.
"Well, at least we solvd the mystery.... Who were they?" Rose asked, breaking the silence.
"The Hello Kitties of Vogon 8." he said with a grumpy face. Then added, "this is humiliating" under his breath.
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3.
Don’t mess with Fuzzy
Written in tangent with the Whooligans challenge. Though
not sure if its funny enough, pure comedy isn’t my strong suit.
"Doctor were the bloody hell are you?" Rose was in a bad mood, true
she had finally been reunited with her love but right now she wanted
nothing more then to throttle him.
Only a few hours after being reunited The Doctor had decided that
he would like nothing better then to see if he could find out more
about this world their helper came from. Unfortunately there was little
to go on other then a name, so it hadn't been an easy search.
True this world had seemed their best bet so far, but unfortunately
there had been a bit of a run in with a local werewolf, even less
friendly then the last one they had encountered. After much running,
yelling and hiding they had managed to survive but with one little
downside, every full moon the Doctor went all Fuzzy on them and
felt the need to run out of the Tardis to hunt rabbits and who knew
what else.
"I swear Doctor if you don’t show yourself soon there is going to
be a rolled up newspaper with your name on it, and this time
I’m not going to be swayed by those cute brown eyes of yours."
Rose was getting more annoyed by the moment as she searched for
lover. It was dark, cold and she could have sworn just a few moments
ago something growled, and it wasn’t her currently Fuzzy Doctor.
There it was again, another growl just behind her. Feed up Rose turned
around to face it, an annoyed look on her face.
"I’ve had a bad night, what ever you sod off and bother someone else."There was a bit
more crackling from the woods and another growl.
"Okay that's it," Rose stalked towards the sound. "Your in for a trashing
now."
Her brave words were quickly broken off by a loud squeak as a huge
monster stepped out. The thing was quite well muscled and covered
with night black skin. It had a blunted snout lined with yellowing teeth
and four arms. Two of them were huge and ending in curving claws while
there others were off a smaller almost child like side.
"Uh right," Rose quickly back peddled, this thing didn’t look at all friendly.
"You just carry on with what your doing and I’ll be on my way."
It wasn’t impressed and as Rose made an attempt to back away it brought
up one of its larger arms and made a slash at Rose.
Rose was quick, but not quick enough and her second favorite hoodie
was quickly shredded as well some of her skin. With a cry of pain
Rose fell to the ground as her hands began to search for any sort of weapon.
"I’m warring you," This time her voice had an edge of fear. "I’ve got a very
scary looking boyfriend."
Again the fiend lunged at her, this time Rose managed roll away, her hand
grasping a tree branch as she did so. Quickly she moved to her feat and
swung the branch hard, it struck the fiend across its face and shattered.
The fiend just laughed and took another lung at her, this time the back
of its hand smacking against her face and knocking Rose flat on her bum.
Tears of pain dampened her eyes as Rose struggled to stand, there was just
no stopping this thing.
Yet again it prepared to strike, this time with both of its large claws and Rose’s
eyes squeezed shut not wanting to see those huge claws come down, it took
all of her will power not to scream like one of those damsels in distress.
When nothing happened Rose cracked a eye and dared to look, in front of her
was her Fuzzy, in all of his pissed off werewolf glory. He growled just once
and pounced as Rose smiled up, he was so impressive in this from, not that Rose
would ever tell her Doctor this, he had a big enough ego as it was.
Brown fur moved in a blur against a mane of white as the two huge monsters
fought, Fuzzy ignoring every injury sustained as he set about teaching
his opening what happened when His Rose was hurt.
It was over moments latter and a smug looking werewolf kicked dirt over
its shredded victim before trotting over to nuzzle Rose’s side. A low whine
emitting as he did so.
For a moment Rose let her Fuzzy Doctor muzzle her, basking in the fact she
was still alive, the moment passed soon though and with an annoyed curse
she smacked him hard across the muzzle.
"Bad Fuzzy, don’t run of like that again." Rose chided as he yelped and
shook his massive head. Sonic screwdriver collar glowing brightly in the
darkness.
***
Rose awoke the next day to the warm and un furry body of her Doctor. His
hair was rumple and his face had a bemused expression as he looked down
at her.
"I still don’t get why you call me Fuzzy when I’m in that form." His voice
was a bit whinny. "I think that form is rather dashing, can’t you have
picked a better name?"Nope, Fuzzy fits you just fine." Rose shifted a bit, holing her covers
against her body as she leaned up to kiss his nose. "You make such a nice Fuzzy,
though this form has its own perks." Rose winked at him, then decided it was about time she thanked him
properly for his brave rescue, even if it was his fault in the first place.
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4.
Lookalikes by live_killer
Good job I didn’t bring Rose here, the Doctor thought. She’d be completely plastered within five minutes of trying all the different drinks. He sipped his banana daiquiri and looked round the bar. It used to be a favourite haunt of his a few lives previously, but he hadn’t set foot there for a while. He vaguely remembered it being something to do with his fifth incarnation, but the details had escaped him for the moment.
As he pondered where to go next and how long he should leave Rose catching up on her sleep in the TARDIS, he continued his observations of the other patrons. He caught sight of Ford Prefect in a booth with Zaphod and a man in a dressing-gown he didn’t recognise. He gave Ford a cheery wave, but Ford merely gestured at him to leave them alone. Clearly, he was trying to explain something complicated. He also spotted Captain Kirk and Spock in deep conversation at the far end of the bar, while over by the jukebox he could see Simon and Mal arguing about which song to put on next. He took another sip of his drink. Why hadn’t he been here in such a long time?
“Pint of lager, mate,” said a man with a noticeable Scottish accent, plonking himself down without ceremony on a stool next to the Doctor. He was unshaven and scruffy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a bed for several days. The barman poured him his drink and put it in front of the man, who promptly drained it and ordered another. Shrugging, the barman poured another while the man rummaged in his pockets for payment. Slapping some money on the counter, he sipped his fresh pint with an air of sullenness. The Doctor cleared his throat.
“Bad day?” he asked cheerfully. He was rewarded with a stony glare.
“Could say that,” he muttered back.
“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor offered, holding out his hand. The other man looked at it, then returned to his drink.
“Detective Inspector Peter Carlisle,” he replied. The Doctor withdrew his hand, shrugging to himself. Some people just weren’t as tactile as he was.
“First time here?” asked the Doctor conversationally. Carlisle nodded. “How did you find it?” the Doctor continued. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is. Carlisle frowned oddly at him.
“Find it?” he clarified. “I just did Eeny Meeny Miney Mo on a couple of pubs and landed on this one.” He took a swig of his drink. “I’ve been told by my superior that I need to engage in more extra-curricular activities, so I’ve decided to try wine-tasting.”
“Good idea,” he nodded. “Although I hate to point this out … you do know you’re drinking lager, not wine?”
“I know,” Carlisle replied. “Can’t stand wine. Gives me a headache. I find lager much more palatable.”
“So, basically, you’re going round every pub you find and drinking every sort of lager you can get your hands on?”
“Got it in one.”
“Sounds like fun.”
They lapsed into an awkward silence as Carlisle eyed the Doctor’s daiquiri suspiciously, when a man strode confidently into the bar and went straight for the counter.
“Good sir,” he said. “I would like a glass of your finest Valpolicella, please. And I would appreciate the good stuff. I know what Valpolicella tastes like, I refuse to be fobbed off with another low-quality Chianti again.” The barman raised his eyebrow at the man, before ambling off to the cellar, grumbling under his breath. The newcomer perched himself jauntily on the barstool before turning to the Doctor and smiling widely at him.
“Hello!” he said amiably. “Giacomo Casanova at your service.”
“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor replied.
“What’s he got to be so cheerful about?” Carlisle muttered.
“Sorry?” Casanova said. “Didn’t quite catch that.”
“Just wondering why you’re so chipper,” Carlisle said moodily.
“Wait a minute,” the Doctor said as Casanova opened his mouth to reply. “Giacomo Casanova?”
“Yes.”
“THE Giacomo Casanova?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, brilliant! I’ve always wanted to meet you!” The Doctor shook Casanova’s hand enthusiactically as Carlisle stared in confusion and disbelief at what was going on next to him. “Have you met Madame De Pompadour yet?”
“Who?”
“Oh, trust me, you two’ll get on famously,” the Doctor said. Casanova smiled again, but this time his smile was tinged with suspicion.
“I say, where on earth did you get your garments from?” he asked the Doctor. “Is that cotton?”
“Yeah,” the Doctor said. “Let me guess - fake Chinese silk jacket?”
“A very high quality fake,” sniffed Casanova.
“Can I just ask,” Carlisle suddenly interjected, “how did you get here?”
“It’s a little trick I like to call ‘opening the door’,” Casanova deadpanned. “What you do is put your hand on the door handle, push it down and then push-”
“Yeah, alright, there’s no need to play silly buggers,” Carlisle replied as the Doctor stifled a giggle. “What I’m saying is, you look a little out of place.”
Casanova raised an eyebrow. Carlisle raised an eyebrow back. The Doctor looked at the two men, and the realisation of why he no longer frequented this bar was slowly dawning. The memory of a meeting with a young man called Tristan Farnon was currently slapping him over the face with a metaphorical kipper, and as Carlisle tried to explain to Casanova where he was, the Doctor groaned inwardly.
“You mean … this isn’t Venice?”
The trouble with this bar was that he had an annoying habit of running into lookalikes of himself.
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5.
the Three Davids by buckbeakbabie
“Right,” the Doctor said. “This is the place.”
Rose stepped out of the TARDIS after him. “Blackpool?”
The Doctor nodded. “Yup. 2006, April, I think,” he said, glancing around. “Seems to be some disturbance in time. Thought we should come and check it out.”
Rose glanced around. “Well, nothing looks out of the ordinary to me,” she said, nodding towards two men on the beach shouting at each other.
“Ah, Blackpool,” he said. “Haven’t been here in ages, but not much has changed.”
“So what is this disturbance?” Rose asked. “Is it like another rift? Like in Cardiff?”
“Nah, more of a hiccup,” he said. “Though, I think someone may have fallen through it. Can you see anyone who looks out of place?”
Rose’s eyes were drawn back to the men on the beach. “Doctor,” she said, pointing at them. “What’s he wearing?”
One man wore a trench coat, but the man he was attempting to fend off sported an elaborate red jacket. The Doctor leaned on the railing and stared at the two men. “A very nice jacket,” the Doctor said. “Looks like eighteenth century to me. And since it’s not Panto season, I reckon we’ve found our disturbance. Well done,” he said, grinning at her. He grabbed her hand and they ran down to the beach.
As they neared the fracas, Rose thought there was something very familiar-looking about the back of the nearest man’s head. She caught a glimpse of the other man, and gasped. “Doctor!” she said, pointing at him. His hair was long, and unkempt, but his face looked startlingly familiar. The Doctor had noticed too, and was looking very shocked.
Rose hurried forward, and the wind carried the men’s voices to them.
“Look, I’m not going to hurt you, if you could just calm down-” the short-haired man was saying in a Scottish accent.
“This is wrong!” the other man said, gesticulating wildly. “You - you cannot be real.” Rose thought he sounded Italian.
“Hello hello hello,” the Doctor breezed as they reached the men. “What do we have here, then?”
“It’s okay, sir, I’ve got this under control,” the Scottish man said, not looking back. The Italian was staring at the Doctor. “Now, sir, I can help you but you need to calm down. This is unsettling for me too.”
“This is impossible,” the Italian breathed, pointing at the Doctor. The Doctor stared back, intrigued. The Scottish man turned around, and did a double take. Rose gasped again.
They all looked exactly the same.
****
There followed a round of confused shouting, during which time the Doctor had whipped out his sonic screwdriver and attempted to analyse the Scottish bloke, who turned out to be a police officer, by the name of DI Carlisle. Carlisle swatted his hand away angrily, and produced his badge, but the Italian man, Giacomo, had co-operated more, and had barely flinched when an intrigued Doctor licked his forehead.
Rose had fallen to the sand laughing at the absurdity of it all. She looked up to see all three men staring at her. Giacomo was smiling at her, Carlisle was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, and the Doctor was rolling his eyes.
“Right,” he said. “Let’s get to the bottom of this.”
“Excuse me, but who is the police officer around here?” Carlisle asked. “Who do you think you are?”
The Doctor ignored him, focusing his attention on Giacomo
“Where is this place?” Giacomo asked. “I’d heard England was strange, but this?”
“I’ve told you, you’re in England,” Carlisle said wearily. “Blackpool.”
The Doctor shook his head. “How did you come to be here?” he asked.
“I was in a carriage - travelling north from London,” Giacomo said. “With this woman, Clara…” He drifted off. “Anyway, it was storming. Very atmospheric. There was something on the road, so the horseman stopped. I got out, was hit on the head by something, and woke up not far outside this place.”
“He’s making sense all of a sudden,” Carlisle said. “Before, he was speaking in fragments - sounded a bit like Italian, though he knew some English. But now, it’s perfect. How did that happen?”
“He’s fallen through a ripple in time,” the Doctor explained. Carlisle snorted. “I can sense these things. Came here to check it out. And the language is being translated by my ship.”
“Listen, mate,” Carlisle said. “I have no time for your jokes. Or yours,” he added to Giacomo. “You could be arrested for wasting police time. Pretending you couldn’t understand me.”
“It’s the truth,” the Doctor said.
“Time travel?” Carlisle snorted. “Pull the other one.”
“Come on,” the Doctor said. “Look at us. We all look the same. You’re telling me that you can explain this without some fantastical concept like time travel? And his clothes, his hair, his mannerisms. He doesn’t come from this time.” Carlisle looked at Giacomo carefully.
“I need a drink,” he said eventually, rubbing the side of his nose roughly.
“Good idea,” the Doctor said. “Let’s get this sorted out.”
In the pub, the Doctor sent Rose to the bar to buy a round, much to her chagrin. “Get me some peanuts!” Carlisle called after her.
“Right, Giacomo,” the Doctor said, “where do you come from?”
“The Republic of Venice,” he answered, “and please, call me Giac.” He smiled winningly.
“Ah,” the Doctor said. “And when do you come from?” he asked. “Giac?” he prodded, as Giac was staring at a young girl at the bar. Giac turned around. “What year was it where you are from?” the Doctor repeated.
“1760,” he said. “What year is it here?”
Rose came up behind him, placing his glass of wine on the table. “2006,” she said with a smile, setting the other drinks down and shrugging off her jacket. Giac’s eyes fell on her string top.
“I think I like this year,” he said.
“Oi, watch it, Casanova,” the Doctor said. Giac stared at him, taken aback. “Oh, god, you are bloody Casanova, aren’t you?” he sighed. Giac nodded. The Doctor rolled his eyes as Giac stared at a woman in a miniskirt who had just walked in the door. “Well, I suppose it makes sense. Knew he had to be a looker.” He grinned at Rose, who rolled her eyes back at him, but was smiling excitedly.
“Seriously?” she said. “You’re the Casanova?”
Giac winked at her. “What do you think?” he said, with a coy smile.
Rose giggled. “Wow,” she said. “Fancy that. The real Casanova. In Blackpool.” The Doctor was looking at her carefully. Rose nudged him. “Tell you what, he doesn’t look like Heath Ledger at all.”
“’Course not,” the Doctor said, appalled. “Far better looking.” She grinned at him.
“Excuse me,” Carlisle put in, ripping the peanuts open. “What do you mean, he’s from 1760?”
“Sorry, yes, you,” the Doctor said, turning back to Carlisle. “How did you get here?”
“I live here,” he said through a mouthful of peanuts. “And last I knew, I was the only one around here with this face.”
“Well, you are, usually,” the Doctor said. “Like I said, he fell through a blip in time, which my time-travelling ship picked up, and I came to check it out. I’ll get him back, no problem.”
“So that’s what you do, travel around time?” Carlisle asked.
“And space,” the Doctor added with a grin. “You’re a Detective Inspector. Sort of the same. Well, kind of. Not really. Less paperwork, for one. And I don’t have any superiors. And I don’t get stuck in places like Blackpool. But then again, I’d imagine there’s more danger in my field.”
“And running,” Rose supplied, grinning at the Doctor. He grinned back, pinching one of her crisps.
“Excuse me,” Carlisle said. “I want to get this straight. I’ll accept the time travel, and the ship that can translate languages, and all that. But why do we all look the same?”
“No idea,” the Doctor answered, sipping his banana daiquiri. “Coincidence? Luck? It’s not a bad face, though, is it? Haven’t had it as long as you have, mind, but I like it. The teeth are a bit strange, aren’t they? Oh, do you have a mole?”
Carlisle took a long drink of his beer and another handful of peanuts, choosing not to answer.
“What, that’s all?” Rose said. “No alien cloning plans, no plots to take over the world?”
The Doctor shook his head, grabbing a stray peanut. “Not that I can see,” he said, taking out the screwdriver again. Carlisle raised his eyebrow, but let the Doctor scan him. “We are genetically different. Just look an awful lot alike,” he said after a few minutes, returning to his drink.
Rose laughed. “This is unreal, though!” she said, looking over the three men. Giac turned back to her, and flashed her a smile. She giggled. “That is one hell of a jacket you have there,” she said.
“Chinese silk,” he replied proudly, holding out an arm. She fingered it appreciatively.
The Doctor drained his drink in one, and handed her the glass. “Rose, get us another, will you?” he asked. Rose huffed, but she stood up and went to the bar nonetheless.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Giac said. “You have a very beautiful woman, Doctor.”
“She’s not my woman,” the Doctor replied. “She’s my… assistant.”
“Lucky you,” Carlisle muttered. “I get stuck with idiots like Blythe.”
“Surely, though, you are involved with her in more than a professional manner,” Giac said.
“It’s complicated,” the Doctor said.
Carlisle snorted. “I’ve barely known the two of you an hour, but I have to agree with our handsome friend here. I was sure you must be shagging her.”
The Doctor shook his head.
“Why not?” Giac exclaimed.
The Doctor almost spluttered. “We don’t work that way,” he said. “There are factors involved - things you couldn’t begin to understand.” Carlisle raised his eyebrow. “I’m an alien,” he said, and nodded at Carlisle’s look of disbelief. “Yeah, I am. I’m 900 years old. And I will grow older. She’s not going to live that long. It won’t last,” he said. “It can’t - she’ll leave, or get hurt, or die, and I’ll be left behind. And I couldn’t take that.”
“This is all that’s bothering you?” Giac asked. “The possibility that you might get hurt? But that’s what love is about.”
The Doctor was silent. Giac pressed on. “Think of what will happen if what you predict does come true. You’ll still grieve for her, there will still be the pain of losing her, but you will not even have memories to comfort you. You will have nothing but regrets. And they are worse than any misery a woman can bring you.” His eyes shone with something that hinted he was speaking from experience.
Carlisle sighed. “I think he has a point,” he said quietly. “It’s too late to fight it, you poor bastard. You may as well give in. Have some fun while you can.”
“I can’t fall for a human,” the Doctor said. “I just can’t.”
Carlisle laughed, a hollow, mirthless laugh. “Believe me, talking like that doesn’t make the situation any different,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
“Oh, and you’d know?” the Doctor challenged.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Carlisle replied.
It was the Doctor’s turn to snort. “It can’t have been the same.”
“Worse,” Carlisle said. “Alien falling for a human. Not that bad. I fell for the wife of the chief suspect in a murder case I was working on. Try that for a bit of ethical ambiguity.”
“Yeah, that’s bad,” the Doctor admitted. He sighed.
“And you, Giac?” Carlisle said. “Do you have a story about a woman you shouldn’t have fallen for?”
Giac peeled his eyes away from the miniskirt. “Which story do you want?” he asked, sipping his wine. “The one about the castrato, or the fiancée of a nobleman?”
All three of them laughed again. “’S not our fault, lads,” the Doctor said, looking around. “It’s this face. Can’t keep them at bay, eh?”
Giac grinned. “If you still don’t want to sleep with her,” he said, nodding towards Rose, “you could always give me a go.”
The Doctor glared at him again, but a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you about this,” he said. He rubbed the back of his neck in agitation.
“I’ll ask you a question a wise and wonderful woman once asked me,” Giac said, leaning across the table. “Do you love her?”
The Doctor focused intently at the table, head in his hands. He nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Then love her,” Giac said simply. “Coward, ” he added, a hint of sadness in his eye.
The Doctor mulled this over a bit, and then leaned back in his chair with a sigh.
“I like this place a lot,” Giac said, eyes drifting around the room again. “The clothes your women wear! Almost like Paris. You can’t beat the French.”
“They know how to party, I’ll give them that,” the Doctor agreed.
Giac looked at him closely. “No!” he said. “You travel through time?” he checked. The Doctor nodded. “That explains it!” The Doctor looked puzzled. “You’ve been to my time before. Paris, yeah? There I am, in court, minding my own business and she comes running up to me, shouting at me. She called me Doctor, now that I think about it. And then she came close and I said hello, and she burst into tears. The King had to lead her out.” Giac shook his head. “You’re the mysterious man that Madame de Pompadour was pining over. Fancy that. And they say I have a reputation for breaking hearts.”
The Doctor didn’t seem to have heard him. He was staring intently at Rose, who was waiting to be served at the bar. Without a word to either of his companions, he stood up abruptly. Carlisle quirked an eyebrow, and leaned across the table to get a better view.
“That’s it,” he muttered, as the Doctor approached Rose.
“Small of the back,” Giac said under his breath, grinning into his glass of wine. “Ooh, nicely done. See the way he’s moved it to her hip now? Very smooth.” He drained his glass. “Looks like he doesn’t need any more help from us.”
Rose was laughing now, gripping the Doctor’s arm. He led her back to the table.
“Right then, Giac,” he said, picking up his coat. Giac sighed, glancing back towards the girl in the miniskirt.
“No chance I could hang around here for a bit?” he asked hopefully. Rose giggled. The Doctor shook his head. Giac sighed. “Oh, alright then. One minute.” He sauntered over to the girl, leaned in to her, and whispered in her ear. She was giggling back within a few seconds, and Giac bent forward to kiss her.
“You know,” the Doctor said, as Rose helped him into his coat, “I’m very glad we aren’t still travelling with Jack. Our Jack, I mean. Could you imagine trying to keep an eye on the pair of them?”
1.
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Untitled by Ozodrac
The Doctor sat at the bar feeling sorry for himself. It didn’t happen very often, he reasoned, so he should be allowed at least one night of self-pity. Using the shot glasses, he had built a vast glittering structure, dominating the counter. It had started off small, just five or six glasses built into a pyramid, but someone like the Doctor wasn’t going to stop there, and it had grown into this glass monstrosity, complete with battlements, towers and buttresses. The barman was removing the glasses as carefully as he dared, but the Doctor retrieved them almost as soon as the barman had cleaned them and replaced them on the mound again. Still, the barman couldn’t complain - the gent in the suit had been in the bar for well over four hours, and despite drinking incessantly had completely failed to pass the friendly drunk stage. He had become mildly intoxicated, but no more. The barman was quietly impressed, and anyway, he was good for business. However, he felt the time had come to make a move.
Before he could act, however, the Doctor made a pre-emptive strike, pushing the only glass near him that was not part of the construction across the counter.
“Ano’her ‘ne,” he mumbled. The barman smiled sympathetically.
“Haven’t you had enough, sir?” he asked. “You came in here before six, and it’s now well past ten. And of course, there’s the small affair - well, rather a large affair, actually - of your bill.”
The Doctor waved a hand expressively, knocking one of the glass towers off its balance. “If I’d though I’d had enough, I wouldn’t ask for another one, would I?” he said, as the barman caught the falling glasses and replaced them gently on the counter.
The barman smiled again. “Just as you say, sir.” He turned to the bottles behind him, and after mixing about seven different ingredients together, passed the glass back. The Doctor eyed the concoction suspiciously.
“Is this what I asked for?” he demanded, prodding the glass with a long finger.
“Yes sir,” said the barman. “It’s what you asked for when you came into the bar, sir.” He paused for a second, lest his manner had become a shade too patronising. His fears were well founded. The Doctor rounded on him like a wounded wolf.
“No, it’s not what I bloody well asked for,” he snapped, all traces of drunkenness replaced by anger. “Cos… cos…” he paused, unsure of himself. He recovered fast - “It doesn’t have a banana in it, does it?”
The barman looked askance at him. “You want a banana in your drink, sir?”
The Doctor smiled. “That’s what I said. Peeled, mind,” he added, as the barman turned away. The barman sighed, but the Doctor had already turned back to the glasses, replacing them in the correct places in the edifice.
But there, I’ve overshot; started the story a month or so too late. That’s what comes of time travel - you get your times mixed up. And precisely because time travel mucks up time, to get to the start of the story we need to go back not just a month or so, but several hundred years, to Scotland. Picture the scene. The desolate house on the moors, the full moon, the cool wind… Very picturesque. Or it would be, if it weren’t for the screams coming from inside the house, and the ring of men in red with muskets surrounding the house.
Now we move inside the house, to the attic. Running feet, a howl, a blinding flash of light, and it’s all over. Or so we think.
Let me pose a what-if scenario: What if it was not the queen who got wounded in the frantic chase up the stairs, but the man trying to save her? And let us take this scenario a stage further - what if this is not just a what-if scenario, but the truth? After all, you can’t believe everything you see on TV…
The Doctor sighed, and sipped his drink. It did have a banana in it (peeled), although what it was doing there he couldn’t remember. There was also (a nice touch) a thin slice of banana impaled on the rim of the glass, occupying the same place that a slice of lemon would on a rather more conventional drink. He sighed again, just for the hell of it.
It wasn’t all bad, he said to himself. But then, once you’d said that, you’d said everything. Alright, being practically immortal was hardly a downside, but there were, as they said, side effects. And not just side effects, but left, right and centre effects as well. The craving for raw meat was one of them, although he managed to keep that under control for most of the month.
Then there was the matter of… changing. He’d found that depending on the time of the month, his shape changed. He could change from human to wolf at any time - it was only in the light of the full moon that he had to change - but when he chose to change, which was possible by concentrating very hard, his wolf form was different every time. After a while, he had learnt to link this with the passing of the moon - if he shifted at the new moon, he was basically a humanoid with a wolf’s head and a rather hairy torso, and he could walk on two legs. But as the moon waxed, his form became more and more wolf-like, until at the full moon he was just a normal, albeit very intelligent, wolf.
As far as he could see, Rose was fine with it. From her point of view, it was just like having a big dog, which happened to be able to clean up after himself and take himself for walks. In fact, thought the Doctor, she seemed very happy with his new, more muscular shape, especially after that time when he had saved her from the Weevil. She had been very grateful…
He broke off this train of thought when he saw the barman staring with a sort of pop-eyed shock at his hand. He looked down, and saw to his horror that his hand had changed to a paw. With immense presence of mind he changed it back, and smiled at the barman. “Yes?” he said.
“Your hand…” murmured the barman.
The Doctor waved the offending article. “This hand?” he said. “Looks like a perfectly ordinary hand to me. What about it?” With a little groan, the barman tottered off. The Doctor pulled himself together. The alcohol was probably affecting his morphenogenic field. The barman was right - he had had enough. He pulled out his wallet, and placed a pile of notes on the counter. They probably covered his bill.
The cooler air of the street outside was a welcome relief after the hot atmosphere of the bar. He had only walked a quarter of the way along the street when he saw Rose, coming out of a Marks and Spencer, her arms laden with shopping bags. He ambled towards her, hands in pockets, and grinned. She smiled.
“There you are!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
The Doctor eyed the bags. “What, in the freezer section of Marks and Sparks?”
She prodded him playfully. “We’ve got to eat, haven’t we?” she demanded. “You more than most.” She opened one of the bags to reveal several packs of raw meat.
“Lovely.”
Rose sniffed. “Doctor, you’re drunk!”
The Doctor drew himself up to his full height, and looked down his nose. “Nonsense!” he retorted. “I’m as sober as whassisname.”
Rose shook her head. “Is that where you’ve been all this time - in the pub?”
“Perhaps.”
“Honestly - I only let you out of my sight for a moment and you’re on to the booze like a flash. Why the need to drink?”
The Doctor shrugged. “Drowning my sorrows? Anyway, the need to drink is better than the need to feed.”
“Maybe you’re right. What sorrows?”
“Well, the fleas for one,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck.
Rose recoiled. “Fleas?” she squealed. “Well, just don’t come near me, then.” She thrust the bags at him. “Here, you carry these.” They continued their walk down the high street towards the car park near to which they had lodged the Tardis. The Doctor tried to scratch his shoulder with his ear, his hands being full, and Rose tutted.
“Really, Doctor. I said you should get a flea collar.”
The Doctor waved his hands about, a feat made remarkable considering his hands were full of shopping. Superhuman strength has some advantages. “A collar!” he scoffed. “With this suit? It’d ruin my appearance.”
Rose laughed. “Is that really so important?”
“Of course,” replied the Doctor. “I’ve got to take good care of this body - it’s certifiably sexy.”
“Yer wot?”
“No jokes,” said the Doctor, grinning. “There’s a stamp on me proving it. I found it one day in the shower. Gave me a right turn, I’ll tell you. Never happened to me before, though I did hear it happened to a female Time Lord a few centuries ago. It makes sense,” doesn’t it,” he said, turning the corner into the car park. “I mean, this is my tenth body now; it’s only fair that I should get a good looking one eventually.”
Rose giggled. “And don’t the flea bites change that? Knowing that a guy’s crawling with the things makes him considerably less sexy. You’re having a flea bath when we get back to the Tardis. I’m sure there’s one in there somewhere.”
The Doctor grimaced. “Where the hell did the fleas come from, though?” he pondered. “I mean, I haven’t been rubbing shoulders with any dogs lately, and they can’t just turn up, can they?”
Rose shrugged. “Dunno. Anyway,” she said. “We’re here now. Got the key?”
The Doctor put the bags down, and looked along the alleyway. It was deserted. He was drawing out the key from his pocket when he heard Rose cry out. He spun round, and saw a man in a dark coat and a beard holding a knife to Rose’s throat. How he had got there he had no idea.
The man grinned unpleasantly. “Gimme your money, or the girl gets it,” he spat.
The Doctor smiled pleasantly. “I’m afraid I don’t have any money,” he said. “And now, let her go.”
“You joking? Posh bloke like you, bags of cash. Turn out your pockets.”
The Doctor sucked his teeth, and put his hands in his pockets. “I’m giving you one last chance,” he said. “I’m a fair man. Let her go.”
“No way.”
“Oh, alright, then.” He took his hand out of his pocket, and dangled the key to Tardis from one outstretched finger. Then, almost carelessly, he tossed the key high into the air. It twisted and spun in the glow of the street lights, and the eyes of the mugger followed it. As it was reaching the peak of its flight, the Doctor shouted “Rose, run!” and drew the Screwdriver from his other pocket. It hummed, and the knife grew red hot in the man’s hand. A second later it clattered on the cobbles. Rose twisted out of the man’s grip, grabbed the key as it fell, and ran for the Tardis. The door clicked behind her. From inside his coat, the man drew an even larger knife. The blade flicked out, curved and evil. Without warning, he lashed out at the Doctor, who threw himself backwards to avoid the blow. As he fell, his hands came into contact with the rails that lined the street, and with an immense feat of muscle control, flipped himself backwards so that he was standing on the rails. The man hacked at his feet, but the Doctor jumped over the blade and landed on the hand of the stranger, who yowled and dropped the knife. A swift kick in the teeth, and the would-be mugger was lying groaning on his back. The Doctor leant over him, and wagged a finger.
“I told you,” he said. “It’s not my fault you wouldn’t listen.”
The man grunted, and his arm came swinging up, holding a third knife.
It is a well known fact to those who study the subject that bodies have a mind of their own. Reflex actions occur without any consent of their owner, operated deep on a primal level within the body. Another good example of such reactions are those which take place within the cerebellum - the flight or fight syndrome, for instance. Of course, in a body with more than one shape available, then a whole new dimension is added to the arena. Which is why the mugger’s arm froze in mid-flight, suddenly transfixed by terror. Then he scrambled to his feet and ran. Wouldn’t you, if you were suddenly faced with a giant wolf, even one wearing the remains of a suit and trying to say “bugger”?
The wolf shuffled off behind the Tardis. A second or so later the growlings of the wolf changed into the mutterings of the man. “Bloody bodies not doing what they’re told to damn all werewolves…” The Doctor emerged, wrapping his split suit around him, and trying to look inconspicuous. As fate would have it, the alleyway, previously empty, was now crowded with a group of shoppers taking a shortcut between streets. Blushing fiercely, the Doctor ran to the door of the Tardis, and pulled it open. Rose was waiting, leaning on the main console with a grin on her face.
“Who’s been a good dog, then,” she said. “I was watching,” she explained, waving a hand at the camera. “Very impressive, I thought.”
“I’m glad you think so,” replied the Doctor, pleased despite himself. “Now, I’m just going to go and change, and then-”
“Oh no you don’t!” said Rose. “This is the perfect opportunity to test what you were telling me about earlier.”
“Eh?”
“The sexiness mark?” prompted Rose. “You were bragging about it earlier?”
The Doctor’s face broke into a wide grin. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll give you three minutes to find it.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
2.
Whooligans - Plushie Power
-by SaratheChipmunk
The Doctor and Rose were sitting in the TARDIS, wondering what to do.
"Well, we could go back to New Earth and wander around there for a bit.." Rose suggested.
"Nah, been there, done that, got the T-shirt," the Doctor replied, sighing. After a couple minutes silence, he said, "Hey, what about Japan? Japan's an interesting place."
"Yeah, it is!" Rose grinned.
"But if we go to Japan.." the Doctor grinned back, "We have to go to Tokyo."
"Yes! I've always wanted to visit Tokyo!" Rose almost screamed.
"And now you can go there in a matter of seconds" the Doctor boasted. Rose rolled her eyes.
Exactly as the Doctor said, they were there in a matter of seconds. Rose bounded out of the TARDIS into the fresh air. She turned to see the Doctor leaning on the TARDIS's door frame. He was looking into the sky. It looked to Rose like he was listening for something.
"What is it?" Rose asked. He shushed her. "This is what I get for being concerned," she thought to herself.
"I can hear something.." he said with that confused look on his face.
"Something?"
"I can hear.. A festival!" He ran inside the TARDIS again and checked the date on the screen. "Just as I thought!" he laughed as Rose approached him.
"What is it? Where are we?"
"We're in Japan, Rose. I'm not that bad." He rolled his eyes. "No, it's the date. Look." He pointed at the screen. Rose read the date.
"The third of March. What's so special about that?"
"Nothing to you, you London-girl." He gave her a light ruffle of the hair. "No, in Japan, the third of March is known as the girl's festival." Rose looked confused. "In other words, girls are pampered and traditionally.. get money. But!" He laughed at Rose's expression. "But, I will get you a present instead."
"Oh, Doctor, you don't have to. We're only visiting and"
"No, it's Japanese tradition, and I'm a very cultural person." He winked and she smiled. "So.. Want your present?"
"What?! You have it now? Already?!" Rose said shocked.
"You didn't think I'd randomly land on the day March the third in Tokyo, Japan for nothing do you?" he grinned and ran into the room where he kept all his outfits.
"What did he go in there for?" Rose chuckled in a confused way.
Around five minutes later Rose was sitting on the TARDIS sofa looking at the nobs and buttons on the consol, when the Doctor poked his head round the door.
"Hello" Rose smiled.
"Hi" the Doctor said.
"You coming in or just your head?" She laughed and he sort of blushed. He walked in and as he did Rose's mouth dropped.
"Do you like it?"
Rose got up from her seat. "Oh, Doctor! It's beautiful!"
"It's for you, as your Girl's Festival day gift." He looked at the floor.
"Really?!" He nodded. "Oh my God, thank you so much!!" She threw herself at him and he held her in a hug. When she got down he handed her the kimono.
"Go put it on then" he grinned and leaned in to her a little. "I'll be waiting."
Rose emerged from her room about 10 minutes later, wearing her beautiful new kimono. "Festival?"
The Doctor smiled and then ran to the TARDIS door. As they left he locked it and they stood and watched the festival for a minute, before they headed down the hill towards it.
They joined it and Rose almost blended in. The Doctor stood out amoung the crowd.
"Oh, wow! Japanese festivals are fantastic! Look at those cute little kittens!" Rose pointed at something in the crowd.
"Hello Kitties, yes?" the Doctor said looking at them.
"Yeah.." Rose looked at him funny, "How do you know about girly little kittens?"
"I, er, I.." he blushed. "Let's go over there." The Doctor indicated a grey door, which stood out umoung the bright colours.
"Why? I want to saty and watch the parade!" Rose jumped as delicately as she could in her kimono to see over everyone.
"Ok, you stay here. I'm going in there." He slipped off silently and approached the door. Rose rolled her eyes and moved quickly and swiftly in the other direction.
As the Doctor got to the door he got out his sonic screwdriver, keeping it close so as not to be seen, and opened the door. He slipped inside and left the door open a crack.
"You should never shut a mysterious door behind you" he muttered to himself. Now, he was in complete darkness, so he set the sonic screwdriver in a particular way and pressed the button. The light turned on. He was in a dank, dark corridor. It was very long. He began to walk down the the other end, where he heard paper rustling. His converse made almost no sound on the floor, but as he approached the door, he heard the sounds stop, and then footsteps running off. He jogged a little faster towards the door, but when he got there, he just found blueprints and some metal. As he looked around the room, he realised there was no door that the thing could have left through. Apparently, it was in the room. He just hoped it didn't know he was there.
Just as he hoped this, he heard a familiar voice call his name.
"Doctor! Doctor, you in here?"
He poked his head round the door and whispered, "Rose, hush! Someone's here."
"Someone?" He indicated the blueprints, and then a cupboard.
"They're in the cupboard?" Rose whispered.
"I think they are.. Let's check."
"What?! You may be able to regenerate, but I can't! I have to look after this body!" She indicated herself, then the Doctor noticed something.
"Why aren't you wearing your kimono? Did you not like it? I can get you something else?" he said, his eyebrows furrowed.
"No! I love it!" she smiled.
"Then why aren't you wearing it?" he had a sad look on his face.
"I saw the look on your ace in that crowd, I know when you think there's trouble. And if there's trouble, we'll end up running at some point. Me, running in a kimono? I don't think so." She crossed her arms. He chuckled.
"Ok, just wondered." He smiled at her in his little way. Then, something rustled in the cupboard. The door opened slightly. A worried looking girl showed her pale face. She had a short pink dress on, long blond curly hair and green eyes.
"Hey, are you ok?" the Doctor put out his hand to help her out of the cupboard. She hesitated.
Rose leaned forward and said "Don't worry, he doesn't bite." The girl toom his hand and got out of the cupboard.
"So, what's your name? Why were you hinding in the cupboard? What are those blueprints for?"
"Doctor!" Rose said, shocked.
"What?"
"She's stunned, stop questioning her!" She sat the girl down at the table. "Hello. I'm Rose and this is the Doctor." She indicated the guy in the brown suit and trainers.
"Hi" he said.
"Hello" she said.
"Doctor, is she Japanese?" Rose asked.
"Does she look Japanese? She's English, I can tell."
"Yes, I come from England. Where are you from?" she asked.
"Well, I'm from England too. I come from London."
"Me too!" the girl smiled. "What about you, Mr.. Doctor?"
"It's just, the Doctor, and I don't come from England, but let's not get into that."
"Yes, let's not." Rose said. She turned back to the girl. "What's your name?"
"My name is Lily."
"Nice to meet you Lily" the Doctor sighed.
"Yes. It is." Rose said with an annoyed face.
"Lily, can I ask you some questions? Are you ok now?"
"Why and what do you want to know, Doctor?" Lily asked him.
"I want to know why you hid in the cupboard when you heard me coming. I want to know what those blueprints are for. I want to know why you're in here."
"Ok, I'll answer your questions. I just ask for one thing in return."
"What do you want?" the Doctor asked.
"I would like you to keep me safe."
"From what?"
"The people who are taking us."
"Who is us?" Rose asked worridly.
"Everyone. Little girls, a bit younger than me or my age, have been dissapearing lately."
"How?"
"I don't know, they just vanish. Noone knows where they are or even who has them. On eminutes they're with their parents and families, the next they're gone. It's just been this week. The week building up to the girl's festival."
"What are you doing here?"
"Doctor! Don't be so rude!"
"No, Rose. It's a prefectly good question." She turned to the Doctor. "I am here, because I anted to find the little people in the Hello Kitty suits, I really like Hello Kitty. Childish, I know, but they're cute. I just wanted to meet one and then I could go back to England with my parents. I saw some come in here earlier so I followed them. I found this room and the blueprints. I don't know what they're for." The Doctor was looking at them with his black-rimmed glasses on.
"No, me neither, and that's saying something." He put them down and put his glasses away. "All we have to do now is-"
"*Bring bring* *Bring bring*" went Lily's phone. She answered it.
"Hello? Mum, I- Mum, can I stay a little longer? I haven't found them yet. I like them, mum! Look, I want to find them. I'm not lost, I've found two adults to help me around. No, mum, they're safe. One's from England. How do I know? She told me. He didn't say where he was from. What's wrong with him being a he? Around 35, maybe? Oh, mum! I'm ok. Stop worrying. Mum! Mum, stop it. I'm staying until I find them. Mum, listen- But- Muuum! Urgh, ok. I'll meet you outside the little grey door. Ok, bye." She pressed the red button.
"Mother?" Rose asked. Lily nodded. "Can be annoying at times, can't they."
"Yeah.." She sighed. "I have to go. Will I see you around?"
"I don't think so kiddo." the Doctor said.
"Why not?" she asked.
"We're travellers, we don't stay in one place. We'll be gone by tomorrow morning."
"Oh.. Ok. Well, Rose. Doctor. It was nice meeting you two. I hope you find out the mystery, as I can't. I hope I find out though. Good luck you two!" She hugged Rose and shook the Doctor's hand. She then skipped off up the grey and dim corridor, making it look so happy.
"She's so innocent.." The Doctor said. "Now, we have to go too. But not out the door: Into the building."
They were walking further down the corridor when they saw a room with white walls and a couple of wardrobes. They walked in.
"Now, we're looking for the folks responsible for the dissapearances, so be careful.." the Doctor said looking around the room.
"Ok, Doctor..." Rose said looking at him.
A couple of minutes later, two Hello Kitty's came out of the wardrobes with a little lazer gun type thing in one of their hands.
"Who are you cute little guys? Have you seen anything unusual?" the Doctor leaned down to their size.
"Erm, Doctor?" Rose said.
"One minute, Rose."
"No, Doctor."
"Rose, please."
"Doctor!"
"What?!!"
"Look.." He turned and looked at the kittens. The gun started to glow blue and the last thing the Doctor remembered later was an incredibly bright blue light.
Rose dropped down to the floor, shocked and horrified. The Doctor lay there looking at Rose.
"Rose, why do you look so big?" He tried to sit up; he couldn't. He tried to move his hands; he couldn't. Rose picked him up.
"You're a.. doll." She looked so shocked.
After at least half an hour of recovering, Rose picked him up and they walked out of the building. He sat quietly in her arms so as not to be noticed as a talking doll.
When they got back to the TARDIS, Rose got out her key, as the Doctor's was now too small to fit in the door. She sat on the sofa holding him.
"Well, at least we solvd the mystery.... Who were they?" Rose asked, breaking the silence.
"The Hello Kitties of Vogon 8." he said with a grumpy face. Then added, "this is humiliating" under his breath.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3.
Don’t mess with Fuzzy
Written in tangent with the Whooligans challenge. Though
not sure if its funny enough, pure comedy isn’t my strong suit.
"Doctor were the bloody hell are you?" Rose was in a bad mood, true
she had finally been reunited with her love but right now she wanted
nothing more then to throttle him.
Only a few hours after being reunited The Doctor had decided that
he would like nothing better then to see if he could find out more
about this world their helper came from. Unfortunately there was little
to go on other then a name, so it hadn't been an easy search.
True this world had seemed their best bet so far, but unfortunately
there had been a bit of a run in with a local werewolf, even less
friendly then the last one they had encountered. After much running,
yelling and hiding they had managed to survive but with one little
downside, every full moon the Doctor went all Fuzzy on them and
felt the need to run out of the Tardis to hunt rabbits and who knew
what else.
"I swear Doctor if you don’t show yourself soon there is going to
be a rolled up newspaper with your name on it, and this time
I’m not going to be swayed by those cute brown eyes of yours."
Rose was getting more annoyed by the moment as she searched for
lover. It was dark, cold and she could have sworn just a few moments
ago something growled, and it wasn’t her currently Fuzzy Doctor.
There it was again, another growl just behind her. Feed up Rose turned
around to face it, an annoyed look on her face.
"I’ve had a bad night, what ever you sod off and bother someone else."There was a bit
more crackling from the woods and another growl.
"Okay that's it," Rose stalked towards the sound. "Your in for a trashing
now."
Her brave words were quickly broken off by a loud squeak as a huge
monster stepped out. The thing was quite well muscled and covered
with night black skin. It had a blunted snout lined with yellowing teeth
and four arms. Two of them were huge and ending in curving claws while
there others were off a smaller almost child like side.
"Uh right," Rose quickly back peddled, this thing didn’t look at all friendly.
"You just carry on with what your doing and I’ll be on my way."
It wasn’t impressed and as Rose made an attempt to back away it brought
up one of its larger arms and made a slash at Rose.
Rose was quick, but not quick enough and her second favorite hoodie
was quickly shredded as well some of her skin. With a cry of pain
Rose fell to the ground as her hands began to search for any sort of weapon.
"I’m warring you," This time her voice had an edge of fear. "I’ve got a very
scary looking boyfriend."
Again the fiend lunged at her, this time Rose managed roll away, her hand
grasping a tree branch as she did so. Quickly she moved to her feat and
swung the branch hard, it struck the fiend across its face and shattered.
The fiend just laughed and took another lung at her, this time the back
of its hand smacking against her face and knocking Rose flat on her bum.
Tears of pain dampened her eyes as Rose struggled to stand, there was just
no stopping this thing.
Yet again it prepared to strike, this time with both of its large claws and Rose’s
eyes squeezed shut not wanting to see those huge claws come down, it took
all of her will power not to scream like one of those damsels in distress.
When nothing happened Rose cracked a eye and dared to look, in front of her
was her Fuzzy, in all of his pissed off werewolf glory. He growled just once
and pounced as Rose smiled up, he was so impressive in this from, not that Rose
would ever tell her Doctor this, he had a big enough ego as it was.
Brown fur moved in a blur against a mane of white as the two huge monsters
fought, Fuzzy ignoring every injury sustained as he set about teaching
his opening what happened when His Rose was hurt.
It was over moments latter and a smug looking werewolf kicked dirt over
its shredded victim before trotting over to nuzzle Rose’s side. A low whine
emitting as he did so.
For a moment Rose let her Fuzzy Doctor muzzle her, basking in the fact she
was still alive, the moment passed soon though and with an annoyed curse
she smacked him hard across the muzzle.
"Bad Fuzzy, don’t run of like that again." Rose chided as he yelped and
shook his massive head. Sonic screwdriver collar glowing brightly in the
darkness.
***
Rose awoke the next day to the warm and un furry body of her Doctor. His
hair was rumple and his face had a bemused expression as he looked down
at her.
"I still don’t get why you call me Fuzzy when I’m in that form." His voice
was a bit whinny. "I think that form is rather dashing, can’t you have
picked a better name?"Nope, Fuzzy fits you just fine." Rose shifted a bit, holing her covers
against her body as she leaned up to kiss his nose. "You make such a nice Fuzzy,
though this form has its own perks." Rose winked at him, then decided it was about time she thanked him
properly for his brave rescue, even if it was his fault in the first place.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
4.
Lookalikes by live_killer
Good job I didn’t bring Rose here, the Doctor thought. She’d be completely plastered within five minutes of trying all the different drinks. He sipped his banana daiquiri and looked round the bar. It used to be a favourite haunt of his a few lives previously, but he hadn’t set foot there for a while. He vaguely remembered it being something to do with his fifth incarnation, but the details had escaped him for the moment.
As he pondered where to go next and how long he should leave Rose catching up on her sleep in the TARDIS, he continued his observations of the other patrons. He caught sight of Ford Prefect in a booth with Zaphod and a man in a dressing-gown he didn’t recognise. He gave Ford a cheery wave, but Ford merely gestured at him to leave them alone. Clearly, he was trying to explain something complicated. He also spotted Captain Kirk and Spock in deep conversation at the far end of the bar, while over by the jukebox he could see Simon and Mal arguing about which song to put on next. He took another sip of his drink. Why hadn’t he been here in such a long time?
“Pint of lager, mate,” said a man with a noticeable Scottish accent, plonking himself down without ceremony on a stool next to the Doctor. He was unshaven and scruffy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a bed for several days. The barman poured him his drink and put it in front of the man, who promptly drained it and ordered another. Shrugging, the barman poured another while the man rummaged in his pockets for payment. Slapping some money on the counter, he sipped his fresh pint with an air of sullenness. The Doctor cleared his throat.
“Bad day?” he asked cheerfully. He was rewarded with a stony glare.
“Could say that,” he muttered back.
“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor offered, holding out his hand. The other man looked at it, then returned to his drink.
“Detective Inspector Peter Carlisle,” he replied. The Doctor withdrew his hand, shrugging to himself. Some people just weren’t as tactile as he was.
“First time here?” asked the Doctor conversationally. Carlisle nodded. “How did you find it?” the Doctor continued. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is. Carlisle frowned oddly at him.
“Find it?” he clarified. “I just did Eeny Meeny Miney Mo on a couple of pubs and landed on this one.” He took a swig of his drink. “I’ve been told by my superior that I need to engage in more extra-curricular activities, so I’ve decided to try wine-tasting.”
“Good idea,” he nodded. “Although I hate to point this out … you do know you’re drinking lager, not wine?”
“I know,” Carlisle replied. “Can’t stand wine. Gives me a headache. I find lager much more palatable.”
“So, basically, you’re going round every pub you find and drinking every sort of lager you can get your hands on?”
“Got it in one.”
“Sounds like fun.”
They lapsed into an awkward silence as Carlisle eyed the Doctor’s daiquiri suspiciously, when a man strode confidently into the bar and went straight for the counter.
“Good sir,” he said. “I would like a glass of your finest Valpolicella, please. And I would appreciate the good stuff. I know what Valpolicella tastes like, I refuse to be fobbed off with another low-quality Chianti again.” The barman raised his eyebrow at the man, before ambling off to the cellar, grumbling under his breath. The newcomer perched himself jauntily on the barstool before turning to the Doctor and smiling widely at him.
“Hello!” he said amiably. “Giacomo Casanova at your service.”
“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor replied.
“What’s he got to be so cheerful about?” Carlisle muttered.
“Sorry?” Casanova said. “Didn’t quite catch that.”
“Just wondering why you’re so chipper,” Carlisle said moodily.
“Wait a minute,” the Doctor said as Casanova opened his mouth to reply. “Giacomo Casanova?”
“Yes.”
“THE Giacomo Casanova?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, brilliant! I’ve always wanted to meet you!” The Doctor shook Casanova’s hand enthusiactically as Carlisle stared in confusion and disbelief at what was going on next to him. “Have you met Madame De Pompadour yet?”
“Who?”
“Oh, trust me, you two’ll get on famously,” the Doctor said. Casanova smiled again, but this time his smile was tinged with suspicion.
“I say, where on earth did you get your garments from?” he asked the Doctor. “Is that cotton?”
“Yeah,” the Doctor said. “Let me guess - fake Chinese silk jacket?”
“A very high quality fake,” sniffed Casanova.
“Can I just ask,” Carlisle suddenly interjected, “how did you get here?”
“It’s a little trick I like to call ‘opening the door’,” Casanova deadpanned. “What you do is put your hand on the door handle, push it down and then push-”
“Yeah, alright, there’s no need to play silly buggers,” Carlisle replied as the Doctor stifled a giggle. “What I’m saying is, you look a little out of place.”
Casanova raised an eyebrow. Carlisle raised an eyebrow back. The Doctor looked at the two men, and the realisation of why he no longer frequented this bar was slowly dawning. The memory of a meeting with a young man called Tristan Farnon was currently slapping him over the face with a metaphorical kipper, and as Carlisle tried to explain to Casanova where he was, the Doctor groaned inwardly.
“You mean … this isn’t Venice?”
The trouble with this bar was that he had an annoying habit of running into lookalikes of himself.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5.
the Three Davids by buckbeakbabie
“Right,” the Doctor said. “This is the place.”
Rose stepped out of the TARDIS after him. “Blackpool?”
The Doctor nodded. “Yup. 2006, April, I think,” he said, glancing around. “Seems to be some disturbance in time. Thought we should come and check it out.”
Rose glanced around. “Well, nothing looks out of the ordinary to me,” she said, nodding towards two men on the beach shouting at each other.
“Ah, Blackpool,” he said. “Haven’t been here in ages, but not much has changed.”
“So what is this disturbance?” Rose asked. “Is it like another rift? Like in Cardiff?”
“Nah, more of a hiccup,” he said. “Though, I think someone may have fallen through it. Can you see anyone who looks out of place?”
Rose’s eyes were drawn back to the men on the beach. “Doctor,” she said, pointing at them. “What’s he wearing?”
One man wore a trench coat, but the man he was attempting to fend off sported an elaborate red jacket. The Doctor leaned on the railing and stared at the two men. “A very nice jacket,” the Doctor said. “Looks like eighteenth century to me. And since it’s not Panto season, I reckon we’ve found our disturbance. Well done,” he said, grinning at her. He grabbed her hand and they ran down to the beach.
As they neared the fracas, Rose thought there was something very familiar-looking about the back of the nearest man’s head. She caught a glimpse of the other man, and gasped. “Doctor!” she said, pointing at him. His hair was long, and unkempt, but his face looked startlingly familiar. The Doctor had noticed too, and was looking very shocked.
Rose hurried forward, and the wind carried the men’s voices to them.
“Look, I’m not going to hurt you, if you could just calm down-” the short-haired man was saying in a Scottish accent.
“This is wrong!” the other man said, gesticulating wildly. “You - you cannot be real.” Rose thought he sounded Italian.
“Hello hello hello,” the Doctor breezed as they reached the men. “What do we have here, then?”
“It’s okay, sir, I’ve got this under control,” the Scottish man said, not looking back. The Italian was staring at the Doctor. “Now, sir, I can help you but you need to calm down. This is unsettling for me too.”
“This is impossible,” the Italian breathed, pointing at the Doctor. The Doctor stared back, intrigued. The Scottish man turned around, and did a double take. Rose gasped again.
They all looked exactly the same.
****
There followed a round of confused shouting, during which time the Doctor had whipped out his sonic screwdriver and attempted to analyse the Scottish bloke, who turned out to be a police officer, by the name of DI Carlisle. Carlisle swatted his hand away angrily, and produced his badge, but the Italian man, Giacomo, had co-operated more, and had barely flinched when an intrigued Doctor licked his forehead.
Rose had fallen to the sand laughing at the absurdity of it all. She looked up to see all three men staring at her. Giacomo was smiling at her, Carlisle was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, and the Doctor was rolling his eyes.
“Right,” he said. “Let’s get to the bottom of this.”
“Excuse me, but who is the police officer around here?” Carlisle asked. “Who do you think you are?”
The Doctor ignored him, focusing his attention on Giacomo
“Where is this place?” Giacomo asked. “I’d heard England was strange, but this?”
“I’ve told you, you’re in England,” Carlisle said wearily. “Blackpool.”
The Doctor shook his head. “How did you come to be here?” he asked.
“I was in a carriage - travelling north from London,” Giacomo said. “With this woman, Clara…” He drifted off. “Anyway, it was storming. Very atmospheric. There was something on the road, so the horseman stopped. I got out, was hit on the head by something, and woke up not far outside this place.”
“He’s making sense all of a sudden,” Carlisle said. “Before, he was speaking in fragments - sounded a bit like Italian, though he knew some English. But now, it’s perfect. How did that happen?”
“He’s fallen through a ripple in time,” the Doctor explained. Carlisle snorted. “I can sense these things. Came here to check it out. And the language is being translated by my ship.”
“Listen, mate,” Carlisle said. “I have no time for your jokes. Or yours,” he added to Giacomo. “You could be arrested for wasting police time. Pretending you couldn’t understand me.”
“It’s the truth,” the Doctor said.
“Time travel?” Carlisle snorted. “Pull the other one.”
“Come on,” the Doctor said. “Look at us. We all look the same. You’re telling me that you can explain this without some fantastical concept like time travel? And his clothes, his hair, his mannerisms. He doesn’t come from this time.” Carlisle looked at Giacomo carefully.
“I need a drink,” he said eventually, rubbing the side of his nose roughly.
“Good idea,” the Doctor said. “Let’s get this sorted out.”
In the pub, the Doctor sent Rose to the bar to buy a round, much to her chagrin. “Get me some peanuts!” Carlisle called after her.
“Right, Giacomo,” the Doctor said, “where do you come from?”
“The Republic of Venice,” he answered, “and please, call me Giac.” He smiled winningly.
“Ah,” the Doctor said. “And when do you come from?” he asked. “Giac?” he prodded, as Giac was staring at a young girl at the bar. Giac turned around. “What year was it where you are from?” the Doctor repeated.
“1760,” he said. “What year is it here?”
Rose came up behind him, placing his glass of wine on the table. “2006,” she said with a smile, setting the other drinks down and shrugging off her jacket. Giac’s eyes fell on her string top.
“I think I like this year,” he said.
“Oi, watch it, Casanova,” the Doctor said. Giac stared at him, taken aback. “Oh, god, you are bloody Casanova, aren’t you?” he sighed. Giac nodded. The Doctor rolled his eyes as Giac stared at a woman in a miniskirt who had just walked in the door. “Well, I suppose it makes sense. Knew he had to be a looker.” He grinned at Rose, who rolled her eyes back at him, but was smiling excitedly.
“Seriously?” she said. “You’re the Casanova?”
Giac winked at her. “What do you think?” he said, with a coy smile.
Rose giggled. “Wow,” she said. “Fancy that. The real Casanova. In Blackpool.” The Doctor was looking at her carefully. Rose nudged him. “Tell you what, he doesn’t look like Heath Ledger at all.”
“’Course not,” the Doctor said, appalled. “Far better looking.” She grinned at him.
“Excuse me,” Carlisle put in, ripping the peanuts open. “What do you mean, he’s from 1760?”
“Sorry, yes, you,” the Doctor said, turning back to Carlisle. “How did you get here?”
“I live here,” he said through a mouthful of peanuts. “And last I knew, I was the only one around here with this face.”
“Well, you are, usually,” the Doctor said. “Like I said, he fell through a blip in time, which my time-travelling ship picked up, and I came to check it out. I’ll get him back, no problem.”
“So that’s what you do, travel around time?” Carlisle asked.
“And space,” the Doctor added with a grin. “You’re a Detective Inspector. Sort of the same. Well, kind of. Not really. Less paperwork, for one. And I don’t have any superiors. And I don’t get stuck in places like Blackpool. But then again, I’d imagine there’s more danger in my field.”
“And running,” Rose supplied, grinning at the Doctor. He grinned back, pinching one of her crisps.
“Excuse me,” Carlisle said. “I want to get this straight. I’ll accept the time travel, and the ship that can translate languages, and all that. But why do we all look the same?”
“No idea,” the Doctor answered, sipping his banana daiquiri. “Coincidence? Luck? It’s not a bad face, though, is it? Haven’t had it as long as you have, mind, but I like it. The teeth are a bit strange, aren’t they? Oh, do you have a mole?”
Carlisle took a long drink of his beer and another handful of peanuts, choosing not to answer.
“What, that’s all?” Rose said. “No alien cloning plans, no plots to take over the world?”
The Doctor shook his head, grabbing a stray peanut. “Not that I can see,” he said, taking out the screwdriver again. Carlisle raised his eyebrow, but let the Doctor scan him. “We are genetically different. Just look an awful lot alike,” he said after a few minutes, returning to his drink.
Rose laughed. “This is unreal, though!” she said, looking over the three men. Giac turned back to her, and flashed her a smile. She giggled. “That is one hell of a jacket you have there,” she said.
“Chinese silk,” he replied proudly, holding out an arm. She fingered it appreciatively.
The Doctor drained his drink in one, and handed her the glass. “Rose, get us another, will you?” he asked. Rose huffed, but she stood up and went to the bar nonetheless.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Giac said. “You have a very beautiful woman, Doctor.”
“She’s not my woman,” the Doctor replied. “She’s my… assistant.”
“Lucky you,” Carlisle muttered. “I get stuck with idiots like Blythe.”
“Surely, though, you are involved with her in more than a professional manner,” Giac said.
“It’s complicated,” the Doctor said.
Carlisle snorted. “I’ve barely known the two of you an hour, but I have to agree with our handsome friend here. I was sure you must be shagging her.”
The Doctor shook his head.
“Why not?” Giac exclaimed.
The Doctor almost spluttered. “We don’t work that way,” he said. “There are factors involved - things you couldn’t begin to understand.” Carlisle raised his eyebrow. “I’m an alien,” he said, and nodded at Carlisle’s look of disbelief. “Yeah, I am. I’m 900 years old. And I will grow older. She’s not going to live that long. It won’t last,” he said. “It can’t - she’ll leave, or get hurt, or die, and I’ll be left behind. And I couldn’t take that.”
“This is all that’s bothering you?” Giac asked. “The possibility that you might get hurt? But that’s what love is about.”
The Doctor was silent. Giac pressed on. “Think of what will happen if what you predict does come true. You’ll still grieve for her, there will still be the pain of losing her, but you will not even have memories to comfort you. You will have nothing but regrets. And they are worse than any misery a woman can bring you.” His eyes shone with something that hinted he was speaking from experience.
Carlisle sighed. “I think he has a point,” he said quietly. “It’s too late to fight it, you poor bastard. You may as well give in. Have some fun while you can.”
“I can’t fall for a human,” the Doctor said. “I just can’t.”
Carlisle laughed, a hollow, mirthless laugh. “Believe me, talking like that doesn’t make the situation any different,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
“Oh, and you’d know?” the Doctor challenged.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Carlisle replied.
It was the Doctor’s turn to snort. “It can’t have been the same.”
“Worse,” Carlisle said. “Alien falling for a human. Not that bad. I fell for the wife of the chief suspect in a murder case I was working on. Try that for a bit of ethical ambiguity.”
“Yeah, that’s bad,” the Doctor admitted. He sighed.
“And you, Giac?” Carlisle said. “Do you have a story about a woman you shouldn’t have fallen for?”
Giac peeled his eyes away from the miniskirt. “Which story do you want?” he asked, sipping his wine. “The one about the castrato, or the fiancée of a nobleman?”
All three of them laughed again. “’S not our fault, lads,” the Doctor said, looking around. “It’s this face. Can’t keep them at bay, eh?”
Giac grinned. “If you still don’t want to sleep with her,” he said, nodding towards Rose, “you could always give me a go.”
The Doctor glared at him again, but a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you about this,” he said. He rubbed the back of his neck in agitation.
“I’ll ask you a question a wise and wonderful woman once asked me,” Giac said, leaning across the table. “Do you love her?”
The Doctor focused intently at the table, head in his hands. He nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Then love her,” Giac said simply. “Coward, ” he added, a hint of sadness in his eye.
The Doctor mulled this over a bit, and then leaned back in his chair with a sigh.
“I like this place a lot,” Giac said, eyes drifting around the room again. “The clothes your women wear! Almost like Paris. You can’t beat the French.”
“They know how to party, I’ll give them that,” the Doctor agreed.
Giac looked at him closely. “No!” he said. “You travel through time?” he checked. The Doctor nodded. “That explains it!” The Doctor looked puzzled. “You’ve been to my time before. Paris, yeah? There I am, in court, minding my own business and she comes running up to me, shouting at me. She called me Doctor, now that I think about it. And then she came close and I said hello, and she burst into tears. The King had to lead her out.” Giac shook his head. “You’re the mysterious man that Madame de Pompadour was pining over. Fancy that. And they say I have a reputation for breaking hearts.”
The Doctor didn’t seem to have heard him. He was staring intently at Rose, who was waiting to be served at the bar. Without a word to either of his companions, he stood up abruptly. Carlisle quirked an eyebrow, and leaned across the table to get a better view.
“That’s it,” he muttered, as the Doctor approached Rose.
“Small of the back,” Giac said under his breath, grinning into his glass of wine. “Ooh, nicely done. See the way he’s moved it to her hip now? Very smooth.” He drained his glass. “Looks like he doesn’t need any more help from us.”
Rose was laughing now, gripping the Doctor’s arm. He led her back to the table.
“Right then, Giac,” he said, picking up his coat. Giac sighed, glancing back towards the girl in the miniskirt.
“No chance I could hang around here for a bit?” he asked hopefully. Rose giggled. The Doctor shook his head. Giac sighed. “Oh, alright then. One minute.” He sauntered over to the girl, leaned in to her, and whispered in her ear. She was giggling back within a few seconds, and Giac bent forward to kiss her.
“You know,” the Doctor said, as Rose helped him into his coat, “I’m very glad we aren’t still travelling with Jack. Our Jack, I mean. Could you imagine trying to keep an eye on the pair of them?”