Tag Archives: FANFICTION

Doctor Who: In Service Of The Daleks [Fanfiction]

Remembrance Sunday, 1994

The traffic had been merciless in this most crucial race against time, but Archibald ‘Archie’ Worthington was driven to beat it.

“Come along man, just another avenue to turn into and we’ll make it” he bellowed to his chauffer as he took another bite of his muffin.

“In good time sir, as soon as we’re clear of the van ahead of us, we’ll be where we need to be”

Archie sighed, his patience had all but eroded, and now he had to deal with patronising reassurances.

“Can we not state such impossible things?” he asked

“What’s so impossible about what I just said?” asked the curious chauffer.

“No one can tell us where we truly want to be, there’s always a different time, a different place, a whole world of ideal possibility forever distant from the present we live in”

“But sir, surely the destination in the present is what’s important”

“What’s important today is what was sacrificed yesterday”

The door to the right side of him opened and another person leaned in, wearing a strange assortment of clothes and colours, a bright and mostly tacky yellow blazer covered in question marks, a panama hat, and a large brown duffle coat. Above his head sheltering him from the downpour of rain was an umbrella with a handle also shaped like a question mark.

“Whatever are you doing man?”

“A storm’s brewing; may I come in for a bit of crumpet?”

“You most certainly will not”

“I may not will anything to be so? My will won’t take kindly to that” the man continued

“How did you pick the lock?” Archie asked.

“What lock?” the impish man replied.

“This car can only be opened from the inside”

“That’s just it, I happen to be inside”

“You’re outside”

“On the outside, there is nothing but space, we are inside the Earth, a ship forever lodged in harbour, we shelter within its skin, every one of us is a prisoner. Every so often we riot. Every now and then we pay the price for it”

Archie was weary, more of this strange man’s ramblings; he tapped on the window separating him from the chauffer.

“Do you have something to do with this?”

“He looked drenched sir, thought I’d take pity and give him a lift”

“Real heart on sleeve protocol” Archie replied, flabbergasted

“That’s what they tell me” the chauffer said, a satisfactory smirk on his face.

“See, simple answer for everything” Archie responded to the man.

“Those you serve always say that when the

Archie sensed the stranger was speaking more of his language and cooled his jets in regard to his rising temper.

“Are you headed my way?” he asked calmly.

“A friend of mine is giving a sermon at this very moment, circumstances will soon force me to travel, I’d like to wish her god’s grace and speed before I do”

“Then you might as well come in if you so wish”

“I don’t wish, I will”

“Will that do?” Archie responded.

The man folded up his umbrella and clambered into the limousine, prompting Archie to move

“Do you have a name?”

“I’m The Doctor”

“Doctor eh? I suppose one always has to be on standby on this sort of occasion, some of us are a bit steep in age at this point. Comfortable are we?”

“Couldn’t really tell you at the moment, we’ve just met”

The Doctor eyed the Smith and Wesson on Archie’s lap, his demeanour changed from lively to sombre.

“No, on second thoughts, I shouldn’t be all too comfortable”

Archie took note of the man’s swift discomfort, and chuckled.

“Oh don’t let this hunk of metal trigger you man, ’tis but a memento of past glory, nothing more”

“Today is the not a day to bask in glory, it is to commit to memory” The Doctor reminded him.

“Whenever are we getting a move on man?” Archie asked incessantly, sensing he was about to be lectured and not willing to put up with a second of it were it about to slip loose from this most righteous Doctor’s lips.

The chauffer spotted a man approaching the van with some camera equipment in his hands and lowered his window to inquire about the hold-ups they were continuing to experience.

“Excuse me, we are in a bit of a hurry, when can we expect your van to move?”

“My apologies sir, we’re filming something special for the regional bulletins, we should be good to go in a few more minutes”

“Great, puff piece remembrance stories, the media are such parasites; can’t we have the rest of the day to ourselves?”

The Doctor pressed his fingers against the tip of his lips, whatever he wanted to say, he felt it would fall on the deafened ears of this individual.

Before long, and true to the camera technician’s word, the BBC news team finally finished their work and headed back over to their van, the van in turn sped off down the street, allowing the limacine and every car trailing behind it to press on.

The limo did not have further to travel, it pulled up beside King’s Chapel Church, which had been at the centre of the regional news, for it was the first remembrance sermon to be given there by one of the initial wave of newly anointed female ministers.

The Doctor and Archie stepped through the hallowed doors of the church and took their seats.

Archie wondered why The Doctor was keeping so close to him, it unnerved him greatly.

“Would you mind finding somewhere else to sit?” he asked.

“I’d prefer to keep my eyes trained on your glory, you’ve taken it in with you” The Doctor noted.

“What makes you so sure there’s a bullet in it?”

“Guns I find make the most terrible possessions when they are so far removed from their purpose and function. There’s always the temptation to load them”

“No innocent blood will be shed this day, you have my guarantee”

“Archibald, you know as well as I do, today is not just to remember the noble or the innocent”

The two remained silent as the sermon, performed by one Judith Winters, commenced.

“They say God is tribal, that there are two sides, the renegade devils and the imperial angels. Try as they might, the imperials cannot stave off the incursion of the renegades on Earth as they do in Heaven.

For Earth is at the centre of their great and ceaseless struggle. Human souls are tested and challenged on a basis so constant, that to the eyes of a timeless child native to uncharted stars it must be compelling to see this everlasting battle amongst the living, not knowing if where they dine next is at the table of our saviour, or at the behest of the devil himself.

The child must look down upon the Earth in wonder, amusement, but perhaps, just perhaps, it looks down on us in shame.

I believe in this child, one came to me, when I was lost, used by those that served in wars fought so long ago, who had lost their way of life to the steps taken forward by our evolving and ever blessed world.

They had been tested, but their experiences had blinded their souls to the awakening that opens our eyes to all that is splendid and right, and they sought to exploit the generations under them, to treat them as if they were their personal weapons.

I spent so many years locked away in my own private corner of the globe, readjusting, trying to convince myself I was not a weapon purposed for evil, that I was a design of the divine.

In your time on this earth, when you are tested, look to your child, your guardian angel, your Ace of Hearts, and ponder what they will forge you into”

The sermon came to a close and the church emptied, but not before a young mother and child approached Judith singing nothing but praise on her.

“That was a lovely sermon Reverend, what inspired it?”

“Just a story from my childhood Mrs. Cooper”

“Well, young Gwen and I loved it, didn’t we dumpling?”

Young Gwendolyn Cooper was a little distant, her eyes trained on The Doctor as he politely raised his hat in salutations to her, in acknowledgement of deeds not yet performed by her on Earth.

“When we get back to Cardiff we’ll be sure to tell her all about it. It’ll do her a lot of good” Mrs. Cooper jubilantly spoke, she took her daughter’s hand and she left the church.

Once the church was emptied, Judith blew out the last of the ceremonial candles and took a much needed glass of water.

The Doctor approached her.

“It was a tale well told Reverend Winters, but nobody ever thinks about what comes after, that’s just our lot, in all our lifetimes”

“It’s as if God takes you to a certain place, then takes both eyes off of your presence on his Earth, leaving you stranded in the dangerous currents, his back turned as you struggle for years to cling to the safety of the holy surface, the holy land”

“What you served was worse than any devil” The Doctor spoke, reminding her of remembrances past.

“Even the devil fell from heaven” Judith responded.

The Doctor opened the palm of his hand, a small drop of rain dropped onto it; he glanced upwards, staring at the ceiling above.

“You really should get someone to fix the roof. It’d do you a lot of good to shelter from the approaching storm while you can, before war is thrust upon you, as it is now thrust upon me”

“If war is to come, are you ready for it?”

“I can step onto every battlefield there has ever been on your planet, I can step forward onto every conflict that is yet to come”

“But are you ever truly prepared for it?”

“I’m not surprised when I see it, but I’m always sad, especially the ones when there is no chance for remembrance. Humans are fortunate to have it, be against an alien or native instigator. With the devils you served, unless I’m involved, there is never a chance”

Judith had to ask the question, encouraged more by curiosity than faith.

“Then you are an angel?”

“I am a champion”

“Of the word?”

“Of time”

“Are you here to respect my gospel, or here to glorify your own?”

“I came to say I failed. I failed you, that I underestimated their cruellest of capabilities, the indoctrination of children into their nefarious ways, no better than what the most inhumane of humans did during the second of the great wars, that’s not even the worst thing”

“What is the worst thing?” Judith asked.

“That even now I’m still failing”

The sounds of a gun barrel being locked into position made both of them turn.

Archie stood,

“You were right Doctor, the temptation was there to resist, but do not take it as a sign of weakness, more of strength. For war is not just to remember the noble, we must also take heed of the sin, and that woman right there is ripe with it”

He approached Judith, his eyes glaring into hers, showing nothing but contempt, and hate.

“At last, I’ve got you where I want you”

“I do not recognize your face, but I understand your intent. Are you prepared?” Judith responded.

“For everything you did to my mates, who weren’t so well prepared for the war you brought to their shares, you dare ask me this?

“Archibald, listen…” The Doctor pleaded.

“She is in service of the Daleks, foreign devils, worse than anything Adolf threw upon us, I see that now. They were on no side but their own. Mike and Mister Radcliffe, they paid the price for that”

“Are you of relation to the men I killed decades ago?” Judith asked.

“We were all drinking buddies, we formed our own clique, The Association, a brotherhood bonded in a belief that the rivers of blood will not course through this nation’s veins. Mike Smith paid the price for placing his trust in the generations that have come to lead this world”

“She had no choice” The Doctor responded angrily.

“And she does now?” Archie said, his hand trembling.

The Doctor could see the fear in the man, but he was too stubborn to end his provocation.

Judith’s eyes flickered with a spark, she thought it’d might have been the flash of a camera but the press had long since come and gone.

Something was different about her. She felt no fear from the man aiming the gun at her, but from the unquestionable thirst she felt to punish him for drawing a weapon and message of malice into a holy land.

It was a righteous fury, she did not know if it belonged to her, or to God.

“You brought this devil out of me, God would never entrust the church to the designs of those that had cast the first man from Eden”

“Both bore the brunt of responsibility that day, they breached the laws laid down upon them and we all must pay for those sins to earn our way back there” The Reverend persisted, but Archie would hear none of it.

“The law is in my hands now, and I will not see you speak in the name of anyone, lord or law, ever again” he cried, and squeezed the trigger.

The shot was fired, the bullet rapidly approached its target, The Doctor stood firm, and he closed his eyes in dread anticipation of what was to come.

The bullet froze in mid-air and the small damp raindrops leaking from the roof also froze some fizzling with energy, they could shock someone at the slightest touch.

“No shelter from the storm” The Doctor said, crossing his hearts.

“What’s happening?” Archie spoke in alarm.

“You were so busy making deals with the devil, you never once thought to ask it to dance”

The energy ignited from the reverend in a ferocious manner, the interior of the church was set ablaze with a torrent of electronic fire which reignited the extinguished candles and reduced some of the pews to charred splinters.

Judith opened her mouth to speak, but nothing let slip from it but more unfathomable levels of power, electrical bolts danced and diced in and around the petrified Archie, he could shield his eyes, but not his spirit, which bent all too easily to the will of this hellacious being that he had awakened.

The gun slowly contorted, and broke down into molten metal that spread all over Archie’s hand, he screamed in the holiest of terrors as the liquid steel touched his hand, severely burning it.

He collapsed to the floor, tears pouring down his frail cheeks, clutching his right hand in searing pain, looking up at the heavens as the imperial angel stood in judgement of him.

And then, the energy cut off, Judith slowly descended, her great power faded, and she sank to the floor. Weary, but well.

Small sobs could be heard from her.

The Doctor knelt down and put a comforting arm around her.

“This is how I failed you, I didn’t cut the cord from the Daleks when I could have, I couldn’t, I knew there would come a time where I required you to serve that power, at a specific time and place, a time of war”

“What sort of war would permit this devil’s design?” Judith said in between wails of sorrow.

“A war of time” The Doctor replied solemnly.

“What makes you think I will fight?”

“I would never ask you to fight, merely to offer suggestions and ideas to our side of the struggle, a weapon forged by one side now in use of another, all for a greater purpose , the power that goes with it need not be in service of the Daleks, but in service of every divine soul in creation. For the sake of every untested soul”

Judith composed herself, she felt the righteous fury dissipate, and instead entered a state of perfect grace, as if her personal truth was telling her all would be well

“I was left so broken the last time, so helpless. Can you guarantee me liberty after?”

The Doctor already knew the answer; he was in his third incarnation at the time when he paid a visit to an asylum with Josephine Grant and one of their less than routine matters in the year 1999, at the turn of the millennium, an asylum Judith Winters once more graced the halls of, having had a relapse, having once again retreated into herself.

Cut off from all masters she could serve, cast out from the light.

In order for her to be useful, one of them had to believe. It might as well be him.

Believe for her, and believe in her.

“You will live, I assure you. That’s all anyone can do after war is through with us. Live”

Judith took his hand, and they made their way towards the doors, towards the rain and the storm.

Archie, still squirming on the floor, crippled and in agony, demanded to ask one last thing of the angels that had denied the demon his due.

“Why? Why was I spared?”

The Doctor glanced over at him, his eyes piercing into Archie and somehow managing to fill the pits of whatever remains of his soul with terror and anguish.

“Ask that of God. She’ll tell you”

Doctor Who: Intermission Impossible [Fanfiction]

It would be so easy to stop if they were there. The children.

All huddled ’round him, some hiding behind the sofa, but fear not, he would coax you out with the voice of assurance, but maybe not greet you quite with a smile.

You see, he was a little scared too, just as they would be.

Suppose they were here though. Whatever would he say to them?

Suppose they were all there watching him at this very moment, interrupting him at this most delicate and desperate of hours, where the slightest distraction or indulgence in pretence could result in a costly fate, for him, and his friends, even the very Earth and the way of life for all of civilisation as he and his companions knew it.

And he imagines, for the audience that wasn’t there also.

But then, his very imagination was what was most concerning him.

Imagining just one singular child, aged no lesser than four, wandering the rail way tracks, seeking her friends who were hidden from her sight, and she found this hapless little hobo attempting a meekly sort of sprint along the tracks of the vast subterranean London Underground rail system.

And she sits herself down next to him. Right there, on the tracks, playing with her fingers, nibbling them with her delicate teeth, twisting and twirling the curls in her hair, waiting for this man to say something and justify his presence to him.

Imagine that child was several.

Confound it all, there was that problem again, the imagination running away from The Doctor, and the farthest it could possibly be from control. It wasn’t content to satisfying less.

How does he react to this?

Let him think now child, let him think. Don’t stare.

He thinks, he muses, and in a fleeting moment of quiet, having lost himself on the rail tracks of the London Underground, he commits to the pretence. He would dare the distraction.

If only because he’s put enough distance between him and his enemies to indulge his habit.

He has earned this. A little play to broaden the mind, to compliment the work.

To satisfy the child not just in him, and perhaps, if there were anyone in the heavens or beyond watching, to satisfy the child in all of them or any that belong to them too.

He would feign fright at first, to give the invisible children some form and substance, to heighten his anxiety in a manner not even fit for calm. Part of the dare was the confidence to be as bombastic as possible.

He would remind this audience that there was a back-story, and placed his current circumstances as something further along in his future…for the children, the story hadn’t happened yet, it was all yet to come, that would give him an apt opportunity to determine whether or not he would survive the ordeal, and if he did not, well, the children would only know of what happened when he was alive, and imagine the rest. Indeed, he would go on living in their own minds.

He was starting to wonder if the increase in anxiety and the belief the net was tightening around him were cutting off the oxygen to his brain.

Children of his imagination have imaginations too? Dream state within dream state? It was a fascinating puzzle, one he had no time to immediately solve with any form of attentiveness.

After all, every infant in life comes from nothing and everything all at once.

If they were real, if they perhaps become real someday, then all of what he had thought of just before would form part of what he had to say

And this is how he’d say it.

“Oh, oh thank goodness, it’s you, I thought for one moment it was…ah, well let me sit down for a moment here, I’m glad I met you as a matter of fact, there’s something I want to tell you, when we start out on our next adventure, Jaime, and Victoria, and I, we meet some old friends, yes, but we also meet some old enemies. Very old enemies, the Yeti as a matter of fact, and this time, they’re just a little bit more frightening than the last time. So I warn you, if your mummy and daddy are scared, you just get them to hold your hand”

He clasped his hands together to make a sharp and audible noise, and this drew the attention of The Yeti as they came charging down the tunnel.

“Oh, got to go, see you soon” he said, panicking, he got to his feet and dashed off.

Confound it all, this is why I have no time for intermission he thought.

There are evils present that act against everything I believe in. They must be fought.

And so, he bids the children who aren’t there, a very fond goodnight.

Doctor Who Unauthorized: We Are Not Over There

Unauthorized Short Trips is the first book from PLANET MONDAS PUBLISHING, it comprises thirteen short stories centered on something that’s a little dear to me…and something that is most assuredly ‘over there’ in terms of fan reception….namely Thraham, the pairing coined by the few fans in support of it for The Doctor and Graham.

DOWNLOAD HERE

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Coming Soon

Coming to both the Planet Mondas Discussion Forum and this very site. A collection of short Doctor Who stories written entirely by me. Some are prior works, and some are brand new to the collection.

I hope to have it drop on December 23rd or 25th

  1. Meet Me At The Station
  2. Intermission Impossible (NEW)
  3. Keep Your House In Order
  4. Forever Late Than Never
  5. The Man I Was
  6. A Good & Beautiful Fairy (NEW)
  7. In Service of the Daleks (NEW)
  8. Wheezing, Groaning Sound
  9. Count The Children
  10. How The Snake Was Released From Its’ Tail
  11. Good Men
  12. Vanity Issues
  13. That New Familiar Feeling (NEW)

Doctor Who: How The Snake Was Released From It’s Tail (Fanfiction)

(Tie-In story for the “Time Lord Victorious”, please read Titan Comics “Defender of the Daleks” and watch “The Waters of Mars” and the novel “The Knight, The Fool, And The Dead”)

The Doctor took a gentle step forward, leaving a footprint in the molten snow.

He had reached his destination, he was sure of it. The ember pits of Snodoke.

He withstood the smouldering and intense heat of the triple sunsets, even as day turned in briefest seconds to night before they rose again, an indecisive orbit, it required a fool’s errand to endure.

Was The Doctor playing that fool? Many had died because of the act once before, but now no one else would die this day in creation, not now or any other day that graced his gaze.
Night would fall on the many no more. The sun would rise for everyone and for all time.

A tall volcanic mountain, a sight so familiar to the Doctor through childhoods past, from beyond an infinite set of lifetimes, stood before him.

Standing to his opposite side was a circular temple in the shape of an ouroboros snake. Its jaw wedged in its own tail. Symbolising eternity, symbolising, to the Doctor, a way of things he sought to unravel.

These pits contained of the last great super weapons conceived in the twilight of the Dark Times, the Hondraiser. A device capable of undoing what can never be undone, keeping the doorway to eternity firmly shut, yet leaving but one way open.

A safe passage to death. No harm, no pain, no taxing mental or physical compromise. Just release.

The Hondraiser was developed by those who challenged the way of the universe as it had evolved to that point, to see no need for life after a time, to cease all manner of suffering, an ongoing price paid for the folly of unspeakable atrocity committed by those who breathed in a galaxy’s worth of ash.

This device would revive, exclusively, those who bared the burden of the great threshold, the creatures that sought to silence the screams they could no longer afford to absorb and cry when those voices they belonged were silenced for all time. The sound of silence, the one voice they could never afford to have.
The Hond.

That is, until The Doctor crossed their pathway, and granted them their own unique silence, a painless passage to the next life. And now he had to ensure they stayed at rest.
It was a quandary that played on the current state of his soul…why would he wish to spare them from life if his present mission was to hold back death for all time? Why not grant them a light to guide them through the memory of times so dark to them?

Surely their imprint on the universe would be a stark reminder to all that the time lord victorious can never be truly wrong.

But maybe that was the point.

He had yet to relinquish the universe of pain, and it was through the suffrage inflicted on souls was what gave the Hond their grudge against all who dwell in the galaxy.

A race cursed by pain, inflicting that pain on others, a reminder of travesties that would be finally put to rest.

If he gave them life anew, he might as well snuff out all hope, it would be wrong of him, the time lord victorious is never wrong, that there is no one to stop him, no one to hold him back, no one to tell him his way, his law of time, is an affront.

Nothing but that.

Nothing. But. That.

The Doctor stood between the mountain and the snake; he produced his trusty sonic screwdriver, and held it high above his head. He pressed his finger delicately on the third setting.

The vibrations rocked the planet to and fro, the Doctor, in a physically taxing bout of defiance, did all he could to stand his ground. The temple collapsed, the volcano erupted, the lava spilled.

The Doctor inspected the wreckage while he could; his time was short as the lava raced towards him.

The Doctor was satisfied.

The Hondraiser was no more.

When the future is born, and they were old enough to join the wisest of men in the dead of winter, at the end of another wonderful year, in preparation for the beginning of yet another golden tomorrow, they will ask just what the precise moment was when those wisest among them realised that peace was assured for eternity in the universe? A universe free not just of pain, but the constant reminder of it?

And those wise men would say, as irony would have it, when the jaw was released from its tail.

Doctor Who: Black Tie [Fanfiction]

 

Yasmin Khan couldn’t believe the state the TARDIS console room was in. More to the point, she couldn’t believe she had taken time out of her day off to check in on her friend and mentor as she fumbled her way through the TARDIS wardrobe, leaving piles of discarded clothes laying across the floor, some had even found their way onto the centre columns.

Yaz gasped as her keen sense of smell starting picking up whiffs of something burning, she kicked aside some fur coats to reach the source of the smoke that was forming.

The Doctor’s head peered out the small changing room, catching a glimpse of Yaz’s activities.

“Here, careful with that, they’re the latest fashions from Spyradon” The Doctor spoke,

“You’ve left the iron on. Again, it’s burning a hole in one of your shirts”

“I know, it’s all by design, brilliant isn’t it?”

“No it’s not brilliant, that’s a perfectly fine looking shirt and it’s ruined now, what were you thinking?”

“Depends, I do a lot of thinking, like whether or not Graham’s kept his sights on the schedule”

“And what do you mean by that?” Yaz asked, her arms folded, tapping one of them with an index finger rather frantically. Her patience running thinner and thinner.

“Tell me he knows when the Hatton Road bus is due?”

“7: 39…and no, Doctor, that’s not in the morning, how many times have I told you not to go by military time?”

“I can’t keep count of those times, they slip in between the cracks of history, I stick more closely to those”

“Doctor, he’s not going to forget the schedules. He used to be a driver remember? He keeps tabs on all the timetables, even now; it’s a hobby between him and his mates”

“It’s just; we’re doing this all his way this time, no reliance on this old snog box”

Yaz broke out into an uncontrollable giggle.

“Snog box?”

“That one didn’t come from me, it came from a friend, and it’s quite a fetching title at this stage in our little drama together” The Doctor replied.

“You shouldn’t treat your dates like they’re a constant drama” Yaz insisted.

“Everything in my life is a drama, I’m not wired to think any way differently…life is so rich with complexity, even the simplest things follow convoluted rules and restrictions…take this restaurant we’re going to, yeah? Black tie…where am I going to find a tie at such short notice? A chap called Turlough wore out pretty much all of them back when he travelled with me. Only time he didn’t have any on was when he headed off back to Trion”

Yaz shared with her friend some words of wisdom, which she had meticulously formed during this phase of The Doctor’s ranting. Perhaps being around her for so long had also helped piece together both the right temper and fluidity of this advice.

“Everything is a process, the point is to enjoy yourself when you sort all that out, then you can look back on all this worry, all this drama if you will, and laugh about it with Graham when the two of you have dinner. Drama makes good conversations, you’ll be at it all evening, trust me”

The Doctor emerged from the dressing room chambers, Yaz reacted with some surprise, she also felt like she shouldn’t be all that shocked, but her mind was drifting more in favour of the situation presenting itself within an hour’s time for the Doctor and Graham.

“Are you…are you really going out like that?”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing it’s just…so typically you. I thought you’d strive to be a bit more…feminine for once, you know, so you wouldn’t have to worry so much about black tie”

Yaz’s phone started ringing; she took a moment to answer it.

“Hello? Yes, oh…oh of course, yeah, she’ll be on her way shortly. Just for FOMO, what’s exactly the time right now? 6:55? And is the schedule still good for you two? Yeah, yeah I see…ok, not bad, I’ll let her know. Yes…yes, I know she has a time machine, that doesn’t mean she keeps track of any on odd occasions”

Yaz switched the phone off and turned back to The Doctor.

“That was him?” The Doctor asked.

“That was him, don’t worry, if you make it to where he is, you’ll be early” Yaz assured her.

“What did he say about the schedule?”

“The bus will be running two minutes late”

The Doctor punched the air with a sense of triumph.

“Ah, so the schedule couldn’t keep track of HIM, that’s better, I like it when time becomes your enemy, gives you another reason to head on out there and make yourself it’s master”

Yaz rolled her eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, The Doctor announced her arrival at Graham O’Brien’s house with a firm knock on the front door. Graham swiftly answered, and, to the Doctor’s delight, she found him wearing a most fetching tuxedo, a velvet black tie tucked into his coat.

To his own surprise, he found The Doctor was wearing a matching tuxedo and shirt

“Here I am, all good and proper. Shall we?”

Graham gave the Doctor a little bit of the soft-shoe shuffle at the door.

Graham also noticed The Doctor’s bow tie looked somewhat displaced

“Your bow is looking a little crooked there; here let me sort you out”

His hands reached out to adjust the bow tie, the Doctor allowed him, humming a couple of musical notes to herself, all slightly out of key, but in her head sounded like blissful release…relief from all that earlier pressure.

“Mind asking me what compelled you to grab that?”

“You said it was black tie. Couldn’t find one lying about the place, figured the coolest thing I could find would suffice”

“Well, who am I to argue? We’ve all got to bring a little flavour to a restaurant”

The Doctor giggled.

“There, good as new” he said as he finished adjusting the bow tie, poking The Doctor on the nose with the tip of a middle finger.

The Doctor tucked in her lip and closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself to revel in the ever decreasing pressure. Around Graham, the drama just all seemed to wash away.

She also let out what Graham could distinctly identify as a mischievous chuckle, almost as if she was sharing a private joke to herself.

“What’s tickling those ribs of yours Doc?” Graham asked.

The Doctor wrapped her arms snugly around his neck, their two powerful and thunderstruck eyes matching.

She knew Graham wouldn’t get what she meant, and caring little if he did. He didn’t know every story, she was just thankful he had become the latest chapter.

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing we aren’t going to church…”

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: Three Months [Fanfic Prompt]

 

I can distinctly remember her face being full of tangible, unavoidable and radiant joy when she came in with it.

Its tail wagging, its tongue wet with the stain of saliva, the patter of its paws as it was placed down on the floor gaining speed. It headed towards me and begged me to life it up.

“C’mon” The Doctor said, applauding the efforts of the little tyke, encouraging me to embrace it.

Her enthusiasm died down when she realised I was keeping one eye out for sign of a collar.

“Doc, you sure it’s a stray?” I asked.

“Came charging at me after I dropped the bag of essentials, before I could pick ’em up, he’d eaten all of them, then he followed me home”

“Into the TARDIS?”

“Into the TARDIS. Nice to have a puppy darting about the place again, usually they’re all made of metal. I haven’t had a proper animal besides cats”

“So that rumour was true then? The one making the rounds from Yaz and Ryan?”

“What have they been saying now?”

“That you had a cat on the ship”

“Oh they must have looked at photos of me and Wolsey back in the day, those were lifetimes, and several manhoods ago. Really shouldn’t leave photos around the place. So, what do you reckon?”

“You want to keep it?”

“Can we leave it with you? Is that a thing we can do?”

“I don’t know Doc, I have friends who aren’t so keen on animals, one of them, Gabriel has a real phobia. One time we were taking a gander around where the estates were being built and one just leapt off its lead and charged straight at him. He flew around the street like a chicken, begging the owner to restrain it. It broke my heart, it’d break yours”

“Probably just the one, the other would be feeling a mite sorry for him”

“Look, just give it a week, it’s not of any real age to start misbehaving, he’ll be on his best behaviour I promise”

“I’ll hold you to that Doc”

Now it was The Doctor’s turn to come charging at me, giving me a spell-binding hug and a kiss around the collar.

“Right, I’ll nip on over to get more essentials, you can get acquainted with-with-oh what are we going to call him?”

“We’ll figure it out when you get back” I said.

The Doctor headed back out the door, and in the hours that ticked by, the little one’s energy was unrelenting. It had a spark about it, a taste for adventure that matched mine and The Docs’. I could envision walks across alien moons, its scent picking up all kinds of new sensations, tugging him, pulling him towards the unknown. He could be strapped up in the most adoring of spacesuits and play fetch across the Milky Way.

And maybe he could be just the kind of therapy dog Gabrielle needed, it’d be trained well, taught to cause as little fuss as possible, just give it an essential, and it can be fashioned into an essential.

And then inspiration came to me.

That’d be his name. Something not all together common in regards to actual names, but a title often used in conversation, or thought of every day.

It was then that The Doctor came in, carrying bags of supplies; she looked a little more drained, haunted almost by an inconvenient reality that had just hit her.

“You Ok Doc?” I asked.

“Yeah…yeah everything’s fine. You got a name for him?”

“Yeah, you’ll love it, we’ll call him Essentials”

“…That fits, that really fits” she said.

I went over to her and stroked her hair, I tried reading her face, it was clear she was hurting.

“Doc, what’s wrong”

“Graham…when I nipped off to get essentials, the actual essentials, I didn’t tell you how far I was going for them…”

“…How long?”

“Three months ahead”

“Well, that’s great, unless you’re going to tell me the food gets scarcer…”

“I spotted you, me, we were on a park bench, there was an empty lead in your hand, and you said something to me, and I said something to you. I couldn’t hear, but we both looked at each other, there was distance in our eyes, we glanced up at the sky, we blew it a kiss, and we just sat there…this look of naked raw loss on our faces”

I took a gander at the little fury tearing into the carpets, surely not? Surely there was nothing at fault…I’d barely begun to plot out its future, our future, what we’d do together.

“Doc, you normally don’t tell us the future this far in advance…~

“Maybe it’s essential we know what’s ahead so we can give little Essentials here the best life it can possibly know before…before…it all slips out from under us. From under him”

“Just three months?”

“Just three months” she said.

Finally, after hours of activity, little Essentials knelt down to sleep, safe in the knowledge we were here for it. For the rest of its days.

The Doctor sat beside it and just stared, stroking its furry body.

I knelt down beside her and let her rest her head on my shoulder.

“There’s got to be an answer to all this” I said.

“Sometimes I just never know the answer when it’s important” she said.

Promotional Consideration: The Untold Adventures of Clara

Nothing to do with me, just helping to promote a very talented team of collaberators who are working on a fully illustrated series of adventures for Clara Oswald and Ashildr/Me, taking place after the events of Hell Bent. The series commences May 16th 2020.

 

 

Official website

https://www.theuntoldadventures.com/