Tag Archives: bradley walsh

Doctor Who: State of Play [fanfiction]

DOCTOR WHO:

State of Play

The Doctor couldn’t resist any longer.

Resistance was useless in a situation such as this.

All those eras she had lived through, ruthless pirate captains, horned nimons , manipulative space/time traps, all of it paled to the persistent conundrum of the very irritable human presence in front of her as she sat rather impatiently within the waiting rooms of the local medical clinic.

A young human girl, approximately five years of age, playing with a large red beach ball, repeatedly bouncing it across the edge of the wall and back to her. Five seconds worth of peace and quiet between each shot.

The Doctor could read a room like it was the history of everything you could ever find, she could gauge reaction and emotion just from seeing the faces of all those around her. Some burying their heads in an old magazine, forcing themselves to focus on the text, staring blankly at the celebrity snaps. Some twitching, some coughing loudly as if hoping it would put the young girl off the activity or allow her parents to ‘get the message’ and directly intervene.

But perhaps the most tragic and telling of the reactions was a teenage lad forming a small pistol with his right hand and taking ‘aim’ at the girl and mimicking gunfire noises. Unfiltered, as loud as he could.

The Doctor realised this was taking it too far. Why couldn’t any of them just talk to the girl?

This menace had form, but not yet, to her knowledge, a name.

She would ask her of it.

“Hi, young lady, don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?” she said.

“Annabelle” the girl replied.

“You seem a little distracted, well, a lot, where are you parents?”

Annabelle pointed over to a corner of the room where her mother was occupied with chatter on the phone.

“Oh, got noone to play with but the wall then?” said The Doctor.

Annabelle persisted with knocking the ball against said wall, the Doctor could tell she was indulging more aggressive in the activity.

“Those people around us, they’re getting to you aren’t they?” she said.

“They’re scared. Scared of what I can do”

“Really? And what exactly can you do?” The Doctor asked quizzically.

“I can anger them” Annabelle said.

“Oh that’s smashing, because between you and me, humans are very easy to anger, it takes the tiniest bit of pressure, but they thrive on it. This kind of anger you’re producing? It feeds on their morality, their very right to be angry, because they don’t know how to best express it to an innocent”

“So I do have power? Over them?” Annabelle said, excited to think she had such an influence.

“Nonsense, you’re an innocent, and power isn’t innocent, power puts fear into others. None of those surrounding us would dare use their power to hurt a child directly, with what they’re capable of with their own two hands, or their words, no, they’ll let the fear do all of that for them. A gesture, a glance, a telling smile, they’ll communicate that way. You’re picking up on that fear aren’t you? That’s why your state of play is more aggressive, you’re trying to make them fear what they could do if it continues. Do they have the right to lash out? What kind of monster would they become in the eyes of others as well as themselves as they did? It’s best not to wield any such power around them; they’re terrified enough as it is”

“Are they scared?” Annabelle asked.

“They’re already scared, they’re all here because something’s wrong with them, you’re here because something’s wrong with you, and you’re scared”

“Are you scared?”

“I’m scared for someone I care about, he’s been feeling a bit unwell, we’ve been up here twice already, once to take the test, and this is to find out the results”

“I hope he gets better”

“Me too” The Doctor replied

An older man with kind but exhausted eyes strolled into the waiting room, his hands in his pockets, glancing up at the bright lights before glancing in the Doctor’s direction; she immediately got up and dashed over to him.

“How’d it go?” The Doctor asked.

“Negative, the results, they came back negative” Graham O’Brien said, sighing with relief.

“You’re shaking” an observant Doctor nodded, holding his hand steady, checking his temperature with her eagerly warm free hand.

“The fear is still there” Graham replied, his eyes watering

“You’re also inflating” The Doctor replied.

Graham chuckled; he knew the Doctor was referring to his tears

“Oh, these waterworks? Don’t worry Doc, its just relief”

“Bit strange to cry when it’s nothing but good news” The Doctor replied.

“Yeah, well, you were a bit strange when I brought up my cancer anxiety to you”

“Are you ever going to let that go?” The Doctor said.

“So long as you never let go of me” he said, and planted a small tender kiss on her lips that held for what seemed like a blissful eternity

The Doctor, still locked in the kiss, gave Annabelle thumbs up. Annabelle nodded in approval.

This right there was a power she wanted to share with someone one day.

Annabelle’s mother finally got off the phone, her daughter sat besides her watching the Doctor depart with Graham, arm in arm.

“Who were you talking to dear?”

Annabelle smiled.

Who indeed.

 

 

Doctor Who: The Good Place [Fanfiction]

The Good Place

She once contemplated whether or not she was a good man.

Her pal at the time told her she didn’t know.

After a while, upon given an army tailored for destruction as a birthday present, she declared she was not one. She was an idiot.

Maybe this is what this was.

The mark of Idiocy.

She and Graham had discovered The Herald, a powerful alien entity in The Doctor’s image, a creature they had encountered before in Bohemia during the 17th Century. It had escaped the Catastrophea, a dimension of perpetual disorder, The Doctor and her friends had sent it back.

Now, trapped in a logic cube with Berraka Dogbolter, they found the Herald being tortured. Its screams would scar any normal being.

The Doctor wouldn’t stand for it. She couldn’t.

Were The Doctor’s attempts to cut through the noise to settle The Herald courage on display? Or bull-headed stubbornness? A willing defiance and denial of danger to always ensure the right deed was done?

Graham had warned her, he asked if she was being wise, reminding her the last time they met her, she almost swallowed the planet whole.

The Doctor’s response was quick and all too overconfident. The rationale was simple, if they could overcome the danger once, they could do so again.

She could not stand to see someone tortured, even a former enemy.

She should have been wiser than this, now was no time to play the fool.

Someone had told her that once before, in her fifth incarnation, after too many people had died that day.

But that’s who she chose to be, that’s what she was defining herself as, a foolhardy go lucky, confident woman who relied too much on her own wisdom.

She reached out to the tortured Herald calmly; it identified her as “little mirror”, a commentary on its connection to The Doctor, as the real deal assured it she could ease its pain.

And then that pain opted to share itself with her.

The Herald’s mind opened to her, pouring into her like blood from an open wound, a transfusion of memories, faces, friends and rivals of old. River, Sarah Jane, Ian, Barbara, Susan, Jaime, Missy.

Regrets and romance, feelings and ferocity, every emotion the Doctor tried to let sleep in her mind had awoken.

She realised to her horror that the Herald was not just a creature that had patterned itself on her body to use as a template, it had absorbed everything that made her who she was. Mind, body, and possible soul.

The Herald was her.

Graham was right, she had not been a wise one this day. And now the truth frightened her. It chilled her to the bone.

In her state of vulnerability, her mind cast back to earlier, to how they had found the Herald in the first place, to the man whose very instincts picked up on the Herald’s cries for help and who had led the expedition down the tunnels to the torture chamber that contained her.

That man was her beloved Graham O’Brien.

Even when it wasn’t exactly her, he could distinctly hear the echo in her image, it’s cries, and he could lock on to it and find his way to it.

He could always find his way to her.

In an attempt to do good, she had overlooked the negative traits she had within herself, traits that compelled to splinter the Herald, she saw what a fool she had been to try and tame herself.

But Graham? Graham could ease her pain, a part of her contemplated having him ease the Herald, but she dared not risk exposing him to such turmoil.

As she explained what the Herald was to him, the vulnerability overtook her, and she held on to him, gripped him tightly, her warm delicate features grazing against his own, her arms wrapped tenderly around him, she felt safe. Terrified and sad, but content where she was.

For as long as she held him, she was in a wise place, a good place.

And in his grasp, she needn’t fear any future.

 

Doctor Who-I Love Biscuits [Fanfiction]

Snapshot 2 (22-10-2018 11-16)

DOCTOR WHO:

I LOVE BISCUITS

(Contains spoilers for 11×06 “Demons of the Punjab”)

The Doctor checked the systems of the TARDIS again, perplexed by the latest problem.

Her biscuit dispenser was broken.

She turned and twisted the knobs, switched some levers around, and pressed her foot down hard on the pedals, but she couldn’t produce one solitary custard cream.

She took out a sturdy wrench from a kit bag and took the apparatus apart, the first time she’d even tried to manually tamper with the dispenser since the TARDIS unveiled it to her upon rediscovering her ship.

She was sure the sexy thing wouldn’t approve much, she never liked to be mended, she rebelled at every instance of tampering, she’d sometimes land on the wrong planet or travel to an even farther off galaxy just to spite whoever thought perfection needed perfecting.

The Doctor wasn’t about to let the ship make her mind up for her, she was famished after that harrowing experience in India, she’d even put in a request for something to nibble when she was there setting up her apparatus.

The TARDIS let out a hefty wheeze and a groan as The Doctor took the dispenser apart piece by piece, turned the components around, and tried rearranging them in a different way.

With the new configuration complete, The Doctor operated the console once again and waited for the results.

She seemed to have made progress, only the biscuits were now coming out in crumbs, they were reduced practically to whole-wheat sawdust.

Graham wandered into the TARDIS carrying a large tin jar.

“Hey there Doc, thought I’d come and see ya” Graham said as he greeted her.

“Oh don’t bother me now Graham, I’ve got a hankering for a hob knob” she said, kicking the console in frustration.

“Well then you’re in luck, you know how you said you loved biscuit? I thought I’d give you a crack at my selection tin here” he said.

The Doctor swiftly turned around and feverishly opened the lid, revealing handfuls of chocolate biscuits.

“May time stand still, are those white chocolate?” she asked.

Graham nodded enthusiastically.

The Doctor plunged her hand into the biscuit tin and tore a portion of the biscuit off in her mouth.

“Can’t get enough of white chocolate digestives, rarest of the rare, they’re like edible stardust to me” she said.

“See, I do listen, now never ask me to pick up chicken poo again” Graham joked, placing his own hand into the tin just as The Doctor did. By chance, their hands graced the exact same biscuit and they found themselves staring with warm and wise eyes as they each considered handing the biscuit to the other.

“I think it’d be best if we parted ways on this one” said Graham.

The Doctor nodded as her cheeks glowed red.

“Yeah, divide and conquers the motto we’ll use here” she said, a blossoming smile etched on her face.

“Between you and me, this may be the one time in my life I’m glad things fall to pieces”

With a little bit of a pull, the two split the biscuit in half and place each of the portion they held in their hands into the mouth of the other.

Doctor Who-A Price To Pay (Doctor/Krasco/Graham)

Full length “Rosa” fanedit coming later today lads, but first…some ‘shipping fun.

 

…Yes, I’m sick, and I need help. I’m essentially imagining William Hartnell making out with Bradley Walsh, what is wrong with me?

Actually, in today’s day and age…more like what’s relevant with me?

But yes, I ‘ship Doc and Graham a bit after they posed as a couple, combined with the Doctor’s baffled look at his arm on her shoulder…it was the most convenient way to end this very short music video, which is padded out by all the very subtle foe yay going on between the Doc and time traversing villain Krasco.

password: doctor

Doctor Who-We Can Only Fall So Far [Fanfiction]

 

DOCTOR WHO

WE CAN ONLY FALL SO FAR

(Contains Spoilers for “The Woman Who Fell To Earth”)


The Doctor could hear whispers come from the crowds in the church as Graham gave his eulogy.

Several of Grace’s friends were trying to place where they’d seen her before, or if she were known to them at all.

“Which one of Grace’s friends is that?” came from one, a Mrs. Lindsey York, aged 52. She had a terrible lisp.

“She looks a bit like that kindly lady who stopped by over in 2006 to help settle the kids down” Yvonne Hooper, who worked with Grace at the Chemo clinic.

“Did you talk to her?” asked Lindsey.

“A bit yeah, she said she’d been travelling a bit and heard from a source some of the youngsters over the last few days were scared of their treatment. It’s strange how word got out that fast, or that it was important enough to share in the town. I don’t recall leaking any of it out. Mind you, she said she was in a different time zone when she heard all this”

“A different time zone? What like how for Americans it’s the break of dawn while it’s later afternoon here?”

“She talked a bit in riddles, but she meant well and the kids were all very happy with what she did” Yvonne concluded.

“That was ten years ago right?” Lindsey said, staring back at the Doctor.

“I reckon it was yeah, poor girl seems to have fallen on some hard times” Yvonne replied observing the ragged state of The Doctor’s attire.

Yasmin Khan could also overhear the conversations, and she felt quite sorry for the wayward soul standing at the back of the church trying to avoid the chatter. Almost as if she didn’t want to hear anything, like it was sensitive information or something.

Like she was trying to avoid being spoiled.

The look on the Doctor’s face indicated she’d heard as much as she wanted to, so Yasmin reached over to the two ladies and urged them to keep quiet while Graham continued to talk of Grace

Yasmin looked over at The Doctor and gave her a reassuring thumbs up, letting her know she needn’t be the centre of attention this day.

A part of her also wanted her to know she was forgiven for the crazy and tragic events of that evening.

It would have been so easy for Graham to have snapped at this strange person who had led him, Yasmin, Ryan and Grace through their fateful adventure that ended in triumph and tragedy, that there had been consequences to enjoying the thrills of the adventure too much, but Graham was too kind a soul to see the negatives in everything.

Not everyone was a cynical soul in this world, taking so much for granted and wasting their breath cursing out the well intentioned when their good intentions met with ill reward.

Yasmin observed The Doctor and realised her outer appearance needed to change, and in doing so, maybe she could change her outlook, which appeared solemn and tinged with guilt.

Yasmin decided she would suggest a change of clothes to The Doctor, and she welcomed it.

Sometimes we can only fall so far before someone reaches out to grab hold of our hearts and lift our spirits up.