ladyoftime | (no subject) (Reply)

“Naturally,” the Doctor said, “you can’t come with me unless you’ve got a wobbly… destabilizer trans-dimensional bingle-bopper time-hopper. Helmet,” she added at the end, in the hopes that somehow the girl eying her dubiously would assume the rubbish preceding it was some sort of brand.

Judging from the way Amelia spectacularly failed to appear impressed, that would be a no. “I need a helmet.”

“Yes, of course.” The Doctor crossed her arms as indignantly as possible in the face of a little girl who was very, very, extremely clearly not buying any of it. Or if she was, she was probably thinking something completely unfair like that the Doctor was a bit rubbish at this which was itself rubbish because she was completely not rubbish. Even when Amelia was giving her that face right there. Especially then. “It’s the rules.”

“Hold on,” Amelia said, in her unfairly cute Scottish way, and ran off.

The Doctor crossed her arms and waited.

Patiently.

Sort of patiently.

After she sort of patiently cracked something that was probably a precious family heirloom or something annoyingly important like that, Amelia returned, which naturally meant the Doctor had to shove it in her pocket and hope no one missed it. “What’s that you have?”

“It’s a wobbly destabilizer trans-dimensional bingle-bopper time-hopper helmet,” Amelia said. Unfairly. And just sort of looked at her. Unfairly.

The Doctor crossed her arms and tried to appear in charge. “Looks like a bicycle helmet to me.”

“Your ship looks like a police box to me.”

“Well, yes.” The Doctor bit her lip, and considered the possibilities, and the extremely bad things that could happen to a child out in the universe with her, and little legs that couldn’t really run very fast. And then she considered Amelia’s face. “Maybe one trip.”

And was immediately attacked by a tiny human attached to her leg in a worryingly strong leg hug. “I’m already packed!”

“But just because you helped me find Prisoner Zero doesn’t mean we’re running around after aliens all the time,” the Doctor said quickly. “It’s going to be… playgrounds and sight-seeing and things.” Pause. “Yes. Definitely. That’s safe enough, isn’t it?”

Amelia was already lugging her suitcase into the TARDIS. “It’s like the country in the wardrobe.”

“Except there’s Christmas. Usually.” The Doctor tapped her sonic screwdriver to her lips, thoughtfully.

“Maybe I should – no, Christmases usually turn out bad for me. Playgrounds it is.”
Amelia poked her head out the TARDIS. “Are we going yet?”

“Yes, of course.” The Doctor paused at the door. “It’s not as if anything really bad could happen. Right?”

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