(no subject)

[ladyoftime]

I.

The Doctor folded her arms and stared down the insolent creature who had invaded her TARDIS and was currently washing its white-tipped ear on her favourite seat. “A cat, Dennis?”

“She’s really nice!” Dennis insisted. “And clean! See, she’s washing!”

Slowly, “You know I don’t like cats.”

Dennis held out his hand, and the cat batted it playfully. “Because you were chased by cats dressed like nuns!”

“Because I don’t like cats,” she asserted, vaguely annoyed that he could pin her dislike onto one incident from centuries ago. “They’re cruel and manipulative. And they jump on the console.”

The cat gave a disgruntled meow. Dennis patted its head. “It’s okay! She didn’t mean it!”

“I bloody well did. Get that cat out, Dennis.”

“But she’s also the exalted princess of the Cat World and wants to know if we can give her a lift to the Dog World to discuss a treaty that will be beneficial to both worlds! And the Mouse World!”

The Doctor blinked, and sighed. “Well, maybe she can stay for a little while.”


II.

The Doctor tilted her head at the bathtub. It tilted its head back at her. “A sentient bathtub, Dennis?”

“I didn’t mean for it to be! I was trying to teach it to sing, so if people want to sing in the shower they can have harmony!” Dennis flicked his wand encouragingly at the bathtub. It began “Old Man River” in a low, warbly baritone. The Doctor peered into it; the plug seemed to be functioning as a temporary larynx.

“Magic,” she muttered darkly. Pain in the arse sometimes. The bathtub left off its singing and somehow gave the impression of shrinking in on itself pitifully, sensing her tone. “All right.” She threw up her hands. “But this is your responsibility. You have to clean it and make sure its water levels are maintained properly. Don’t think just because it’s in my TARDIS that I’m obligated to pick up any slack you leave.”

“I’m calling it Fido!” The bathtub rocked from side to side on its metal legs in a little dance of ecstasy. The Doctor resolved never to take a bath lightly again.


III.

“A thestral, Dennis?”

He turned around eagerly. “Where?”

“Nevermind.”

IV.

The Doctor took a deep breath. In. Out. “A Meep, Dennis?”

“I didn’t bring him! He came in on his own!”

“Doctor!” The fluffy round megalomaniac screeched. “You will pay! Meep-meep!”

She rubbed her temples. “Shut him up, will you, Dennis?”

“Silencio!”

Beep raged at the Doctor voicelessly. It was an improvement. “Where did you find him?”

“In a pet shop!” This set off a new tirade from Beep; she could really get used to this pleasant, soundless rage. “What are we going to do with him?”

“If he was in a pet shop, he must be a pet,” she decided. “I’m going to find a cage and a hamster wheel and one of those little water bottles you hang on the bars. You don’t mind, do you, Beep?” Silence. “I didn’t think so.”


V.

The Doctor stared. Dennis, holding his latest acquisition by the arm, watched her eagerly. The Master, looking as if he quite wanted to kill everyone within a fifty mile radius, glowered.

“No, Dennis,” she said slowly. “You can’t keep the Master.”