Aug. 9th, 2010 09:57 pm
Untitled Fic
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clocketpatchI keep saying that I'm going to bunk down and write some Eleven fic because the bowtie has apparently hypnotized me. Well, I've got the opening done and I think I've just about wrestled the plot to the floor. Now I just need to figure out who's calling... suggestions? (seriously, just throw names at me, random syllables even...)
It was a lazy day on board the TARDIS – not small, just slow, or so the Doctor kept telling his companions, who, frankly, didn't care either way. Amy and Rory had wandered corridors for a bit, drank tea, and cuddled in the library, but eventually (inevitably) they had found their way back to the console room.
It was nice there, and strangely calming despite the zany art deco interior.
Then the phone rang.
"Don't answer it," Rory said immediately.
The Doctor looked up lazily from the sling swing under the main deck where he was conducting repairs.
"I wasn't going to."
"That's a new one."
"I am nothing if not surprising," said the Doctor, waving the wrench he was holding in an abstract pattern as if to emphasize his point – only to drop the wrench and then practically fall out of the swing trying to retrieve it.
"Actually," said Amy as the Doctor scrabbled around on his hands and knees, "you're excruciatingly predictable. But I have to agree with my beautiful husband."
"Thank you," said Rory. They shared a quick kiss and Amy continued:
"Enough playing at being some kind of time and space fix-it squad. I for one am thoroughly sick of running and would like some downtime to cuddle."
"I said I wasn't going to answer it," the Doctor said, sounding a bit tetchy. He stood up, tucking the offending wrench into an inner jacket pocket as he did so. "I should never have started answering it in the first place – once word gets out that the Doctor is on call you never hear the end of it. I never used to answer the phone." He paused for a moment, stroking his chin before amending; "Well, only in special cases."
The phone continued ringing. The Doctor fidgeted and looked up at his companions through the glass floor.
"You aren't even a little bit curious?
It was a lazy day on board the TARDIS – not small, just slow, or so the Doctor kept telling his companions, who, frankly, didn't care either way. Amy and Rory had wandered corridors for a bit, drank tea, and cuddled in the library, but eventually (inevitably) they had found their way back to the console room.
It was nice there, and strangely calming despite the zany art deco interior.
Then the phone rang.
"Don't answer it," Rory said immediately.
The Doctor looked up lazily from the sling swing under the main deck where he was conducting repairs.
"I wasn't going to."
"That's a new one."
"I am nothing if not surprising," said the Doctor, waving the wrench he was holding in an abstract pattern as if to emphasize his point – only to drop the wrench and then practically fall out of the swing trying to retrieve it.
"Actually," said Amy as the Doctor scrabbled around on his hands and knees, "you're excruciatingly predictable. But I have to agree with my beautiful husband."
"Thank you," said Rory. They shared a quick kiss and Amy continued:
"Enough playing at being some kind of time and space fix-it squad. I for one am thoroughly sick of running and would like some downtime to cuddle."
"I said I wasn't going to answer it," the Doctor said, sounding a bit tetchy. He stood up, tucking the offending wrench into an inner jacket pocket as he did so. "I should never have started answering it in the first place – once word gets out that the Doctor is on call you never hear the end of it. I never used to answer the phone." He paused for a moment, stroking his chin before amending; "Well, only in special cases."
The phone continued ringing. The Doctor fidgeted and looked up at his companions through the glass floor.
"You aren't even a little bit curious?
