Other parts: Part One

"You know, if you could just take the time to understand how very practical steam is in a ship."

"A space ship can't use steam. You've got to just have them on there for show."

"For show! I'm not from the species that puts spoilers on sportscars, Jim."

"Hey, those look cool."

"Or spaceships."


"I've seen the modifications you make to the Enterprise."

"I would not!"

'You know, there is a hotel right there,' Dorothy said. )



Christmas Eve. 2009.

The Doctor loved Christmas! Back when he was a wee Time Lord, the first place he ever landed was London on Christmas Eve. He promised himself he'd never miss another Christmas ever, but that promise went into the same pile as "Lose weight" and "Regenerate a better hairline" and "Stop leaving companions in other universes". But the Doctor had never quite gotten the hang of New Years'. (He once spent several hours commiserating on the similarity between the confusing nature of New Years and Thursdays with one Arthur Dent, who will sadly not be appearing in this piece of narrative. -editor)

But! Through all his travels in space and time, he still hadn't quite figured out what Christmas was for exactly. Except as a yearly excuse for turkey, too much wine, and plum pudding (all of which the Doctor approved of). This year, though, as he strode the streets on this wonderful Christmas Eve, the Doctor decided he would figure out exactly what Christmas was all about.

This may or may not have included use of a intergalactic manipulative detector and a full pack of radio stellar isotopian crystals. Oh, and a cup of hot chocolate. In a festively-coloured cup.

There was a lovely light snow, and the Doctor grinned madly at the stars. Christmas. This year, he was going to figure out what it was all about.


OOC: Open thread, feel free to tag in as if your character is a passerby or as if your character is a long-standing companion! I'll be working on this thread up until the New Year, most likely! Everyone from any verse (or no verse!) is welcome, just let me know if you'd prefer it from a community or specific universe! And, for this thread, threadhopping is totally welcome!

Happy Holidays, everyone! &hearts

This is the hardest story that I've ever told
No hope, or love, or glory
Happy endings gone forever more
I feel as if I'm wasted
And I'm wastin' every day

This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love,
Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life,
But not together.

"Who buries him?"

"That's a rather morbid question."

"Think about where we are, Doctor."

It's the Doctor that throws him. Not Stringbean or Sugarpuff or whatever ridiculous nickname she's conjured up. It's not a common thing for her, but today isn't a common day.

"A captain named Jean-Luc Picard. Fairly famous in his own right. It's all written down in the history books, I can find them for you if you want," he says.

"No thank you." She tugs her sweater around her shoulders and looks back to the TARDIS. "Can't we go back? See him again? Just once."

"You know we can't."

"Please, just to see---"

"Dorothy, I'm sorry." He puts a hand to her shoulder. He wants to be comforting but even now, even after he's been with her for over a century, he doesn't know how.

She turns and leans into his chest, but doesn't cry. He wraps his arms around her. Two immortals going through life is one thing, but when they make a mortal friend, it's another. He wanted to go back, of course, back to his own ship. And who wouldn't? The Doctor understood the appeal. And he was a good man.


Everything is in the past tense in his mind, now. It should be in the present. He should always think of people and things happening at once. He's stopped that, and he can only believe it's because of the people he travels with. They don't think on the same timeline.

They visited.

He aged.

They visited again. And again. Sometimes their meetings were very far apart, sometimes there were only days in between.

They don't feel the years. He does.

And now they're here.

James T. Kirk
2233 – 2293(2371)

It's a plain grave on a small, rocky planet.

"The end of one journey," he says. He breaks away from Dorothy's embrace to place some Xuxxuxian Firelilies next to the plaque. It will take sixty years for the cut flowers to wither. Not unlike Jim.

"I think I'm ready to go home," she says.

He looks up at her. "Home?" he asks.


Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 352
Based on RP with [ profile] galeforcehero and [ profile] willrevile
Right, so the Doctor was becoming increasingly aware of how very bad he was at steering. Or, at least, how very bad the TARDIS was at listening to his steering directions. He did say he wanted to go to Corsicroz Minor, but, instead, he found they had landed somewhere else.

"It's Saturday, at least," he said, pulling on his coat. He glanced at the screen on the console, then tossed the coat aside. "Temperature's at a lovely 40 degrees---um, that's around 98 degrees for you two---and the radiation's good, atmosphere's good. Should be quite nice out."

He looked over to his companions, trying for a 'this is an improvement' grin. He was looking forward to Corsicroz, but, really, a new and exciting place? So much better.
The Doctor may be the worst at keeping track of time, but he can't forget Dorothy's birthday! She'd murder him! Or at the very least be very unhappy with him. And we simply can't have that.

So! Last minute shopping is in order. He throws together a few fun gifts and remembers that he used the last of his wrapping paper on Christina's gift. So! He figures something out and scribbles up a card and leaves the package and the card on the console for Dorothy to find.

Happy Birthday Dorothy!
You only turn 117 once! I hope it's a good one!

What is inside the package... )

Dear Dorothy,

I don't know if you know this, but I do so I figured that I, knowing the things that I know and knowing that you might only possibly know them, am sending you this postcard.

Blimey, that sentence was long. Did you see that? Long! Lots of commas in there, though. I think I might have a problem with commas in sentences, what do you think? Do I breathe too much when I talk? Maybe I talk too much. And in writing in the same manner that I talk, it's entirely possible that I talk with too many commas.

But I've come full circle.

Where was I?

Oh! Circles! Round! Right! Pies!

I think we need to go on a date involving pies. Because, really, what sort of a boyfriend adult-man-friend spouse-ish individual companion would I be if I didn't take you on at least a few dates?


The Doctor

Muse: The Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 150
You are a storm.

You ripple through time, knocking over buildings and topping empires. You fix ecosystems and destroy civilizations. Rain is a blessing and a curse and you're both. An unstoppable event. A force of nature. That's you.

They call you the Oncoming Storm.

She's the storm chaser. Her name is synonymous with tornadoes and wherever you take her the sky darkens with heavy rainclouds. They're chasing her, she says, though you think she might be chasing them, as well. The weather of Oz is lovely in the springtime, but she's like you. She loves the chase and the wind and the lightning of a storm.

Her name is Dorothy Gale. She's a storm. Gale winds blowing straight from another world right onto this one.

Just like you. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 907
Partner: (RP) [ profile] galeforcehero
As companion (with permission) to this lovely ficlet.
She is like ">| Quit being a butt to him! It is not his fault!"
Ten is like What? He only has EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED

Dorothy: Right, everything except the TARDIS, and eternal youth, and, y'know, freedom. >|
The Doctor: There's more to life than just freedom.
Dorothy: Not much more.
The Doctor: I've been free a long time, Dorothy. It wouldn't hurt to just stand still a while.
Dorothy: But you have a choice! He's not going to stop for a while, he's trapped for the rest of his life. And that's all he has-- one life.
The Doctor: People can do more in one life than others can in dozens. You look at a sunset when you've got only one life and it MEANS something
Dorothy: Do you really think you've done the right thing, here?
The Doctor: Leaving him with Rose? It's what I'd want if I were him.
Dorothy: But you're not him.
The Doctor: But he's me.
Dorothy: Yeah, he is. But you're not him, and you never will be. He's different, Doctor.
The Doctor: He should be grateful.
Dorothy: Grateful! That you abandoned him?
The Doctor: He didn't need me! And I left him with Rose! And the Tylers!
Dorothy: Did you even ask him what he wanted?
The Doctor: If he didn't want it, he'd have said something. Dorothy: You seem awful damn sure of that. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 3,156 YA RLY
Written with the amazing [ profile] galeforcehero
[ profile] handysparehand referenced with permission.
"That's something I think is growing on me as I get older: happy endings." -- Alice Munro

Dorothy is a fairy tale.

As a fairy tale, she believes in two things with absolute certainty: Magic and happy endings.

She links her pinkie with his as they lie in the dewy grass on Scarbora 8.

"Am I ever going to convince you to believe in magic, Doctor?"

"Am I ever going to convince you to believe in science, Dorothy?"


Sometimes he believes in magic.

He doesn't talk about it often, because usually he's arguing science versus magic with his companion and it's much more interesting to see her face get all red and her shoulders square off when she argues with him than it is to admit he occasionally thinks she's right.

How can he not believe in magic once in a while?

Oh, he can rattle off the scientific reasons for the light of a passing shooting star hovering over them as they sit on a hill and stare at the sky. He can explain the adrenaline shooting through their veins at the surprise lightshow and the hormones and physical attraction that make it feel like this particular moment is special to just them. In that way, he knows that series of events and the way they feel is far from magical.

But sometimes, it just feels that way.

"Am I ever going to convince you to believe in happy endings, Doctor?"

A more serious reply. "No."

He's seen too much, he's fallen in love too much, he knows too much to think that there's an ending that'll ever be perfect and happy like a fairy tale might want. He can feel her sad expression without looking over to her. She wants to make him happy, she wants to make him believe in the things he doesn't want to believe in anymore.

And sometimes, like moments like this? He thinks she just might.

That would be enough to convince him that magic is real, if nothing else in the universe could.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 322
Based on rp with [ profile] galeforcehero
Nightmare...Your muse is awakened in the middle of the night from a horrific nightmare. The details of the dream are little more than raw emotions. It's up to their family, significant other, or a complete stranger to deal with the after-effects depending on where it happens.
She's too sincere for one so young.

Not the dainty Judy Garland, no, the Dorothy Gale the Doctor meets is a sassy farm girl with strong calves from running and a backbone as tough as the heels on her silver slippers. One night at Ezereckian karaoke they both belt out "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" with about the same mediocre skill at both note-catching and lyric-remembering.

Funny, the things fairy tales get wrong.

He understands that. While she becomes a blue-check wearing princess in stories, he becomes some sort of a hideous monster with eyes that shoot fire and all that good nonsense. It's better that he knows her story and she doesn't know his. Of course, he imagines she'll ask him, eventually, about his stories. She asks him about everything else.

He's been traveling on his own too long. It's been a long time since there's been anyone wandering the halls of the TARDIS, asking what this is and what that is. The questions she asks aren't deflected easily, they sink in and he lets more of himself out. In turn, she's not used to company that understands her and her world and she finds herself relaxing around him. They talk about things and discuss emotions and do an absurd amount of running.

She makes him open up and he makes her feel.

She makes him go back for survivors he said weren't savable and he points at her firmly and insists she's brilliant. If there is one thing the fairy tales got right, she's got a ridiculous amount of Kansas modesty and he's got an overloaded sense of Time Lord ego.

Still, it makes for good balance.

They learn a lot about each other, as traveling companions often do. He knows how she likes her grilled cheese sandwiches and she knows his abhorrence towards pears. He knows how she takes her coffee (lots of cream, no sugar) and she knows how he likes his tea (clear, lots of honey). He knows she's never been in love and she knows his hearts are all but glued back together with crazy glue.

She's afraid he's never really going to put all those pieces back together.

He's afraid she's never going to fall in love.

Everyone should, he says. Though not with him, oh no. Brittle old man, he is. Already had his lessons in love. She says she's better than love. He thinks that's a silly way to think. She's only 116, after all. She's got a great big life ahead of her full of mistakes and foolish crushes and love.

Just not with him, he adds, and she agrees. She offers up her pinkie in a promise. Silliest thing, but her gaze is deadly serious. He rolls his eyes and links his pinkie with hers.

To never falling in love---with each other, at least.

Still, she smiles up at him with the edge of her lips in that twisty way and despite all protests he feels himself smiling back.

They walk back to the console room with their pinkies linked, off to another adventure.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 545
Based on RP with [ profile] galeforcehero

At the beach.

Really, the Doctor should've been less irritated with the entire situation. After all, he was in his favorite pair of swim shorts (the one with the bananas on them), wearing a new pair of sunglasses and his favorite tie. After all, he wasn't fully dressed without his suit jacket.

Aaaaaand he had his family around him. Cut for general crack and spoilers to 4.09 'Forest of the Dead'. You know. Ish. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 689
Based on various cracky!RP in [ profile] sixwordstories with (here we go)
[ profile] times_student
[ profile] galeforcehero
[ profile] perfect_shoes
[ profile] runs_with_him
[ profile] everybody_lives
And bunches of awesome Jennys!
This box is placed outside of Dorothy's door to open whenever she feels is appropriate. 116th birthdays don't happen every day, you know!

There is a note attached:

Happy birthday, Dorothy! Hope you like these gifts. If you don't...well, next time tell me what you want! I had to guess! I'm terrible at guessing!

The Doctor

When the box is opened, it plays a copy of Boy Least Likely To's "Glad I Hitched My Apple Wagon To Your Star". Why? Because that song is fantastic, obviously!

What is inside the box... )
rude_not_ginger: (*glee*)
( Apr. 8th, 2008 01:09 am)
Things the Doctor is not fond of:

1) Unrequited love
2) Burnt Toast
c) wait. 3) Bus stations
4) Interdimensional travel

Stilllllllllllll, it can't be that bad. He's just popping "over the rainbow", as it were, to pick up a friend. Well, an acquaintance. Still! She'd be brilliant! He'd been wanting to ask Dorothy to travel with him for a while, she seemed very keen on the idea.

He gripped the side of the console and set the TARDIS for her home coordinates. A little bit of turbulence later and....there he was! Hopefully "now" was a good time...

OOC: Couldn't resist! If this isn't good, drop me an email at naughtygirlslikepolka AT gmail DOT com!


rude_not_ginger: (Default)
The Doctor


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