well, it missed the drabble memo and turned into fic. Alas:
London-tinted morning streamed through the windows of the Chesterton residence. Barbara was putting on the tea and Ian was in his robe.
“I’m starting to go grey, did you know that?” said Ian, wandering out of the flat’s bedroom and into the kitchen. He tugged on his clearly-not-grey forelock for emphasis.
Barbara blinked at him. The kettle was just starting to steam.
“Oh, probably,” she said.
“It’s travelling with the Doctor that’s done it,” Ian said.
“Are you sure it’s not teaching chemistry to prepubescent boys?”
“Well, that too, maybe.” He paused, and then shook his head to dismiss the notion.
“Do you ever miss it?” asked Barbara. She opened a cupboard and took stock of possible breakfast options to go with the tea. Toast seemed like a good choice.
“Sometimes,” said Ian. He scratched his chin ruefully before rubbing at an old scar hidden beneath the hair on the back of his head. “Then I usually remember getting knocked on the head every other day, being subject to the Doctor’s crazy whims, and all the rest. I find it far more pleasant here, at home, with my beautiful wife.”
“You do miss it,” she said.
“All the time, but I don’t think I’d be so happy if he tried to kidnap us again. I’m very happy with the here and the now, thank you very much.”
He lunged for Barbara, grinning. She gave a little squeal and jumped out of his reach. The kettle let out a thin whine, and, at that same moment, there was a knock at the door. Ian and Barbara exchanged a glance, their eyes asking: who?
“I’ll get it,” said Barbara, “You can put some clothes on.”
“I remember when you thought I was very dashing in my robe,” said Ian. He winked and did a mock belly-dance. Barbara ignored him and went for the door. There was another knock, just as she reached to undo the latch.
“Just a moment,” she said.
She opened the door. A young man and woman stood in the hall. He was in a cheap suit and had a giant gelled quiff. She was in a halter top and looked rather peeved. He appeared to be ridiculously proud of himself.
“Barbara Wright!” he exclaimed, announcing every syllable and grinning expansively. “Good to see you! Is Chesterton around?”
Barbara blinked.
“I’m Mrs. Chesterton now, and you are…?”
“Oh you got married! Well, I thought so. Martha, isn’t that nice?”
“Very,” she said, sounding tired and less than enthused.
“Mr. and Mrs. Chesterton,” he continued, oblivious. He took Barbara’s hand and pumped it. “Congratulations!”
“It’s been nearly four years,” said Barbara.
“Four years – really? Blimey you were quick. Get home, get hitched, get –”
The man’s companion – Martha – shoved him meaningfully in the ribs.
“Who is it?” asked Ian.
“Come and see,” said Barbara.
Ian made his way to the door, looking distinctly rumpled in his quickly pulled on shirt and trousers. He was still in the process of fixing his tie.
He looked at the couple in the doorway.
He blinked.
“Chesterton! Well, Ian, I should say. Ian Chesterton, what a pal you were. Martha, this is Ian and Barbara.”
“I gathered,” said Martha.
“Who are you?” asked Ian, squinting at the stranger. There was something familiar about him. That, combined with his timing, made Ian suspect the worst.
“Ian, you don’t remember me? Zapped your hand a bit on the console? Zarbi, Daleks, the French Revolution – or had you left by then? You were there for the Aztecs though, I remember, Barbara was a goddess.”
Ian blinked.
“She still is a goddess,” he said, deadpan. He paused. “Doctor?”
“Got it in one, I told you he was clever, didn’t I Martha?”
“Stop gloating and ask him,” said Martha. She sounded more than slightly annoyed. Ian could sympathise. So could Barbara, who rolled her eyes and went to remove the howling kettle from the stove top.
“Er, well, thing is…” said the Doctor. He pulled at his collar and scratched the back of his neck. “Er, well, hmmm… how to put… we’re a bit, um, IlosttheTARDIScanwestayhereforabit?”
“You don’t change do you Doctor?”
“Hmmm… What? Really?” the Doctor looked genuinely surprised, and startled.
Ian just laughed.
“Come in, Barbara’s just made some hot water. Have some tea.” He nodded at Martha. “Knowing him, you need it.”
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momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2009-04-29 11:25 am (UTC)London-tinted morning streamed through the windows of the Chesterton residence. Barbara was putting on the tea and Ian was in his robe.
“I’m starting to go grey, did you know that?” said Ian, wandering out of the flat’s bedroom and into the kitchen. He tugged on his clearly-not-grey forelock for emphasis.
Barbara blinked at him. The kettle was just starting to steam.
“Oh, probably,” she said.
“It’s travelling with the Doctor that’s done it,” Ian said.
“Are you sure it’s not teaching chemistry to prepubescent boys?”
“Well, that too, maybe.” He paused, and then shook his head to dismiss the notion.
“Do you ever miss it?” asked Barbara. She opened a cupboard and took stock of possible breakfast options to go with the tea. Toast seemed like a good choice.
“Sometimes,” said Ian. He scratched his chin ruefully before rubbing at an old scar hidden beneath the hair on the back of his head. “Then I usually remember getting knocked on the head every other day, being subject to the Doctor’s crazy whims, and all the rest. I find it far more pleasant here, at home, with my beautiful wife.”
“You do miss it,” she said.
“All the time, but I don’t think I’d be so happy if he tried to kidnap us again. I’m very happy with the here and the now, thank you very much.”
He lunged for Barbara, grinning. She gave a little squeal and jumped out of his reach. The kettle let out a thin whine, and, at that same moment, there was a knock at the door. Ian and Barbara exchanged a glance, their eyes asking: who?
“I’ll get it,” said Barbara, “You can put some clothes on.”
“I remember when you thought I was very dashing in my robe,” said Ian. He winked and did a mock belly-dance. Barbara ignored him and went for the door. There was another knock, just as she reached to undo the latch.
“Just a moment,” she said.
She opened the door. A young man and woman stood in the hall. He was in a cheap suit and had a giant gelled quiff. She was in a halter top and looked rather peeved. He appeared to be ridiculously proud of himself.
“Barbara Wright!” he exclaimed, announcing every syllable and grinning expansively. “Good to see you! Is Chesterton around?”
Barbara blinked.
“I’m Mrs. Chesterton now, and you are…?”
“Oh you got married! Well, I thought so. Martha, isn’t that nice?”
“Very,” she said, sounding tired and less than enthused.
“Mr. and Mrs. Chesterton,” he continued, oblivious. He took Barbara’s hand and pumped it. “Congratulations!”
“It’s been nearly four years,” said Barbara.
“Four years – really? Blimey you were quick. Get home, get hitched, get –”
The man’s companion – Martha – shoved him meaningfully in the ribs.
“Who is it?” asked Ian.
“Come and see,” said Barbara.
Ian made his way to the door, looking distinctly rumpled in his quickly pulled on shirt and trousers. He was still in the process of fixing his tie.
He looked at the couple in the doorway.
He blinked.
“Chesterton! Well, Ian, I should say. Ian Chesterton, what a pal you were. Martha, this is Ian and Barbara.”
“I gathered,” said Martha.
“Who are you?” asked Ian, squinting at the stranger. There was something familiar about him. That, combined with his timing, made Ian suspect the worst.
“Ian, you don’t remember me? Zapped your hand a bit on the console? Zarbi, Daleks, the French Revolution – or had you left by then? You were there for the Aztecs though, I remember, Barbara was a goddess.”
Ian blinked.
“She still is a goddess,” he said, deadpan. He paused. “Doctor?”
“Got it in one, I told you he was clever, didn’t I Martha?”
“Stop gloating and ask him,” said Martha. She sounded more than slightly annoyed. Ian could sympathise. So could Barbara, who rolled her eyes and went to remove the howling kettle from the stove top.
“Er, well, thing is…” said the Doctor. He pulled at his collar and scratched the back of his neck. “Er, well, hmmm… how to put… we’re a bit, um, IlosttheTARDIScanwestayhereforabit?”
“You don’t change do you Doctor?”
“Hmmm… What? Really?” the Doctor looked genuinely surprised, and startled.
Ian just laughed.
“Come in, Barbara’s just made some hot water. Have some tea.” He nodded at Martha. “Knowing him, you need it.”