ladyoftime | (no subject) (Reply)

The Doctor clutched her toy for emotional support. Everything was much, much too big, and she was much, much too small. Holding the stuffed blue box helped, even if its existence was incredibly worrying. She swiped at her nose with the sleeve of her shirt and had a good look at her surroundings. She’d been in the TARDIS a moment ago, hadn’t she? Something pulled it out of the Vortex.

She was in a park, littered with seesaws and monkey bars and slides. There were swings, too, and once she spotted them, she felt sure she would think better if she was on them. She set her TARDIS on the ground for a moment to climb onto one. Things were a little better once she was swinging her short legs out as far as she could and pointing her feet toward the blue sky. The sky would look prettier orange, she decided, and spent a few minutes picturing it.

“Who are you?” A boy’s voice cut into her fun. She glared hard at the intruder and willed him to go away.

“I,” she told him with an air of haughtiness and self-importance, “am the Doctor.”

“Only grown-ups are doctors.” He sneered at her and snatched up her TARDIS. “What’s this?”

“Let that go!” she ordered and jumped off the swing as it came forward in its arc. She planted her hands firmly on her hips (such as they were). “You better give that back.”

“It looks like a dumb toy,” he said scornfully as he turned it around in his hands. “It’s just a boring old box.”

“Is not! It’s a Time and Relative Dimension in Space ship!”

“You made that up. ‘Sides, you fly and float in ships. You can’t fly or float in this.” He experimentally tossed it into the air. It fell to the ground unimpressively.

She snatched up the toy before he could get his hands on it again. “Shows how much you know. It travels in the Time Vortex. I’ve been everywhere in it.” She stuck her tongue out at him. So there.

He glowered at her. “You’re making it up. You’re just a dumb girl.”

“I’m brilliant,” she informed him haughtily. “I’m the brilliantest person you’ll ever meet.”

“Prove it.”

She stomped around the playground for a minute, searching for something to prove her brilliance. “There.” She pointed to a swing with a broken chain. “I can make that fixed! I’ll show you!” She fumbled for her sonic screwdriver, and let out a screech of horror when she discovered it wasn’t in her pocket.

He stared at her, nervous and startled. “Did you get bit by an invisible dog?”

“Do you see any invisible dogs around?” She stuck out her lower lip. “My sonic screwdriver’s gone!”

“You can’t see them, dummy. They’re invisible.” He watched her with interest, searching for signs of invisible canines. “My dad has a sonic screwdriver in his toolbox.”

“Does not.” She shook her head, sending her hair flying. “I have the only one.” She promptly became distracted by the act of eying the air around her. “Do you have a lot of invisible dogs?”

He waited just long enough to let her know he didn’t have to tell her anything, that he was doing this out of the goodness of his heart. “Loads. They bark all the time, and keep everyone up at night, and they lick you when you can’t see them so you can’t shove them off. It’s horrible.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re making that up.”

He glowered again. “You calling me a liar?”

“You have an overactive imagination. You can’t make things invisible, ‘less you make them immaterial. You can only make things not noticeable.”

His face betrayed his interest while she spoke, but he quickly regained his air of uninterested scorn. “Who told you that? You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do, too. I found it out. It’s a scientific fact.”

“What do you know, Miss Scientific Fact Doctor Lady?”

“Near everything.” She sat down on the ground with a thump, clutching her TARDIS. “I don’t have to prove it to you. I don’t want to be here anymore. It’s not right, and it smells funny. Like io… io… something,” she mumbled miserably, and her eyes welled with tears she refused to let out.

“Aw, I didn’t mean it.” The boy hung around near her awkwardly. “Don’t cry.”

“I don’t care,” she sniffed. “My TARDIS is felt, and I can’t go anywhere, and I probably couldn’t even reach the console if it was big again, and I haven’t been this young for millennia.”

His face crumpled. “You’re not having any fun?”

“NO!” She yelled, and stood up just so she could stomp her foot.

“I thought this would be fun,” he said, stricken. “I just wanted to have someone to play with, and I thought you would be fun. I watched you. You had all those adventures.” He looked hopeful, wistful. “I thought we could have adventures.”

At his words, her head jerked toward him, startled. “You brought me here?”

“Yeah. But it’s not like I thought it would be. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He stared downwards intently, watching his foot as it dragged along the ground and refusing to look up at her. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’ll send you back now.” He stalled, awkwardly sneaking glances at her before finally darting forward to plant a sloppy, inexperienced kiss on her cheek. He immediately flushed with embarrassment. “I think you’re really cool. For a girl.”

The Doctor stumbled against the console as she regained her balance. Everything was back to normal, it seemed; normal TARDIS, normal body, thank Rassilon. The sonic screwdriver lay on one of the chairs, exactly where she’d left it. No sign of anything odd happening, except- she raised a hand to touch her face- her cheek tingled faintly from ionic residue.

Her other hand hovered over the controls for a moment, before setting coordinates for a rather fantastic playground she’d come across on one of her many trips to Earth. She rather fancied a little time on the swings.

Community: