Memes and bunnies and bedtimes ignored... oh my!

[clocketpatch]

So, having replied to fic-y meme posted by antennapedia , I now must proliferate the meme across my own journal for that is how these things work, yes? (okay, okay, I know how memes work, I'm also tired and slightly deranged at the moment, bare with)

ANYWAYS:

The first ten people to comment in this post get to request a drabble of any pairing/character of their choosing from me. In return, requesters should post this in their journal, offering in return fanworks of the kind they enjoy doing. Fic? Icons? Meta?

actually, I'm fine making icons as well as drabbles, even though I'm admittedly not that great at it. It's amusing, yes, yes it is. Also, drabbles might turn into fic, beware. I shouldn't be doing this really, there are other fics on the stove already, boiling away -

but, done is done, so request away. I think you already know my fandom of choice.

Edit: There are still FIVE slots left.

Comments

[clocketpatch]

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.”

[thisbluespirit]

Lovely! I've seen another fic that had this situation in it, on Teaspoon. But I'm not sure what it was or who it was by!

Hmm, this sounds like fun (I'll take up the meme myself over the weekend, maybe), but I find thinking of prompts hard. Maybe Seven, Ace and Hex, just to keep you in practice while I have a nose at your story. (Random prompt, if wanted: cupcake).

[clocketpatch]

Rather not my best work I think, but when Hex is involved it's impossible for things to stray too far off course (also, you get an actual bona fide drabble. Yay!)


“But the expiry date is – ” Hex checked.

“It doesn’t have an expiry date,” said Ace.

“Probably because it’s from before printing them was mandatory,” Hex said darkly. “Look, Ace, this box looks like it’s from the sixties. It can’t be safe.”

“The TARDIS is in stasis Hex. Besides, if we tell the Professor we need to stop off for groceries he’ll be suspicious, and it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Whatever you say.”

--

“Happy Birthday!” Ace and Hex said in unison.

“Really? Is it?”

It wasn’t, because none of them (him included) knew it, but the cake was still delicious.

[thisbluespirit]

Yay! Lovely!

Of course, the other problem if they'd stopped off for groceries would have been the Dalek Invasion of Tescos or something equally unlikely, so Ace is very wise.

:-)

[clocketpatch]

Tehe, the Dalek Invasion of Tescos... there is a crack!fic waiting to be born. xD xD xD

[greatbriton.livejournal.com]

Awwwwww, that was fantastic! More then drabble and fic is beautiful! :) :) :)

This just made my day. I love your scene with Ian and Barbara reminiscing before The Doctor knocks on the door. And their cute little banter.

The last line is perfect too. hehe

Loved Martha's irritation at The Doctor and his oblivious enthusiasm.

Thank you thank you thank you! :)