Doctor Who fic
May. 4th, 2005 10:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
owlYou know, it's really hard to write stuff in a fandom where the canon gets superseded each week. Untitled short fic, set just after Adam steps inside the TARDIS. Unrequited shipiness in various directions, the Doctor is still ambiguous so no one will bite me, I'm not entirely happy with it and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
doyle_sb4 has already written this setting about ten times better than I did, curse her :-P
Adam steps into the blue box.
Whatever he has been expecting, this isn't it. Adam has read a lot of science fiction; words like 'chamber' and 'console' spring to mind. The column in the middle with the rising and falling globe of light is emitting a noise like nothing Adam has ever heard before.
"It's a spaceship?"
"Timeship," corrects the Doctor. "The TARDIS. Magnificent, isn't it?"
"Yes!" Adam shouts above the noise. "Hey, it's bigger on the inside! Like Narnia!"
"I've been to Narnia," says the Doctor. He indicates a lever. "Here, hold this."
Adam holds it. "Narnia's real?"
The Doctor grins, shiftily. "Well I've been to a place called Narnia."
The grating shriek stops. "Where are we?" Rose asks. "And when?"
The Doctor jerks a thumb at Adam. "He wanted to see the stars, didn't he?"
********
Now Adam has seen stars being born in a cloud of gas. He has walked on the far side of the Moon, flown by the cosmic searchlight Rigel, and seen dinosaurs roam the earth (one of them chased him and Rose into a tree and had to be diverted by the Doctor with a black pudding).
Now he is having dinner. The TARDIS's kitchen looks like a cross between a cathedral and a laboratory. The fridge Rose is rootling through could have come from the 1930s.
"It's not cold," Adam says.
"I think, when you put something in it--time doesn't pass. Or something. Fancy chicken fried rice?"
"He eats takeaways?"
"Yeah. Usually makes me pay, too. Cheapskate," Rose says, affectionately. Adam feels a small flicker of jealousy.
Rose is pretty; Rose is funny; courageous; compassionate; she fascinates Adam. She is from London; she is nineteen (but she was born in 1986, like Adam); her father is dead; she has no A-levels.
She is not like any girl Adam has ever known.
She is not stupid, by any means, but she has a childlike delight in everything she sees. Come to think of it, so does the Doctor, and who knows how old he is?
"Nine hundred," Rose says, when Adam asks. They're eating the chicken fried rice from opposite ends of the container, with teaspoons.
"He really is an alien," says Adam. Rose's casualness has driven it home. Not a dead specimen in an underground vault, but a living person, with sticky-out ears and a dodgy taste in jumpers. He cannot be put in a glass case, neatly, with a label of information. He refuses classification. He makes Adam a little uneasy, like the Dalek in its cage before he knew what it was. "What's he doing here?"
"Something happened to his planet," Rose volunteers. "There was a war. He doesn't like to talk about it."
An alien with post-traumatic stress disorder, no less. "But he looks human. What is he?"
"A Time Lord," Rose says. Somewhere far away in space and time, Adam went to a Church of England primary school. The phrase rulers of the darkness of this world drifts across his mind, but he can't place it. He never listened in Assembly. "Is that a title or a name or what?"
"Dunno," Rose says. "I think it's what he is, like his species? Is that the word? I know who he is, though, and that's enough to be going on with."
When Adam was three he took a firework apart, and cried because he couldn't find the colours. Van Stratten's mausoleum beneath the Utah desert was the blue paper and dingy, gritty power. Life in the TARDIS with the Doctor and Rose is the flash of light and the radiating colours and the bang. And they are already halfway to the stars.
doyle_sb4 has already written this setting about ten times better than I did, curse her :-PAdam steps into the blue box.
Whatever he has been expecting, this isn't it. Adam has read a lot of science fiction; words like 'chamber' and 'console' spring to mind. The column in the middle with the rising and falling globe of light is emitting a noise like nothing Adam has ever heard before.
"It's a spaceship?"
"Timeship," corrects the Doctor. "The TARDIS. Magnificent, isn't it?"
"Yes!" Adam shouts above the noise. "Hey, it's bigger on the inside! Like Narnia!"
"I've been to Narnia," says the Doctor. He indicates a lever. "Here, hold this."
Adam holds it. "Narnia's real?"
The Doctor grins, shiftily. "Well I've been to a place called Narnia."
The grating shriek stops. "Where are we?" Rose asks. "And when?"
The Doctor jerks a thumb at Adam. "He wanted to see the stars, didn't he?"
********
Now Adam has seen stars being born in a cloud of gas. He has walked on the far side of the Moon, flown by the cosmic searchlight Rigel, and seen dinosaurs roam the earth (one of them chased him and Rose into a tree and had to be diverted by the Doctor with a black pudding).
Now he is having dinner. The TARDIS's kitchen looks like a cross between a cathedral and a laboratory. The fridge Rose is rootling through could have come from the 1930s.
"It's not cold," Adam says.
"I think, when you put something in it--time doesn't pass. Or something. Fancy chicken fried rice?"
"He eats takeaways?"
"Yeah. Usually makes me pay, too. Cheapskate," Rose says, affectionately. Adam feels a small flicker of jealousy.
Rose is pretty; Rose is funny; courageous; compassionate; she fascinates Adam. She is from London; she is nineteen (but she was born in 1986, like Adam); her father is dead; she has no A-levels.
She is not like any girl Adam has ever known.
She is not stupid, by any means, but she has a childlike delight in everything she sees. Come to think of it, so does the Doctor, and who knows how old he is?
"Nine hundred," Rose says, when Adam asks. They're eating the chicken fried rice from opposite ends of the container, with teaspoons.
"He really is an alien," says Adam. Rose's casualness has driven it home. Not a dead specimen in an underground vault, but a living person, with sticky-out ears and a dodgy taste in jumpers. He cannot be put in a glass case, neatly, with a label of information. He refuses classification. He makes Adam a little uneasy, like the Dalek in its cage before he knew what it was. "What's he doing here?"
"Something happened to his planet," Rose volunteers. "There was a war. He doesn't like to talk about it."
An alien with post-traumatic stress disorder, no less. "But he looks human. What is he?"
"A Time Lord," Rose says. Somewhere far away in space and time, Adam went to a Church of England primary school. The phrase rulers of the darkness of this world drifts across his mind, but he can't place it. He never listened in Assembly. "Is that a title or a name or what?"
"Dunno," Rose says. "I think it's what he is, like his species? Is that the word? I know who he is, though, and that's enough to be going on with."
When Adam was three he took a firework apart, and cried because he couldn't find the colours. Van Stratten's mausoleum beneath the Utah desert was the blue paper and dingy, gritty power. Life in the TARDIS with the Doctor and Rose is the flash of light and the radiating colours and the bang. And they are already halfway to the stars.
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no subject
Date: 2005-05-04 10:34 pm (UTC)Couple of typos:
Adam has read a lof science fiction
Thefridge Rose is rootling through
Something happened to hi planet
Sowmwhere far away
I really want Narnia fic now...
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 10:33 pm (UTC)I want a fridge like that!
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 10:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-06 02:08 am (UTC)I LOVE the idea of this! Fantastic!
no subject
Date: 2005-05-31 12:16 am (UTC)When Adam was three he took a firework apart, and cried because he couldn't find the colours.
My favourite line.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 04:31 pm (UTC)