Wednesday, January 7, 2009


In my research for The Michaelmas Werewolf, I stumbled across one of the last things I wrote in OG before my exile began - oh, how popular I was at the time, and the Squeers invited me to patronize them...

Untitled Shipper Fic

The Doctor was lying in the mass of cables and components that lay hidden under the grilled flooring of the console room, a tool kit resting atop the deck plate he had moved. "Rose," he called absently. "Have you seen my glasses anywhere?"

"You put them in your pocket," Rose replied.

"Did I? Must have done." Still holding a mass of wires together with one hand, he patted the surface of his pinstripe jacket, then his trouser pockets. "No... Not there..."

"Maybe there's a hole in there," Rose suggested crossing over to him.

"A hole in my pocket, dear Rose?" the Doctor blinked. "I doubt it."

"You'd be surprised," Rose said. "Come on, get up. I'll find it for you."

The Doctor sighed, twisted off the cables and got to his feet. He unbuttoned his jacket, took it off, waving it like some half-hearted bull fighter, then laid it on the console and emptied his pockets. A heap of junk - from a sonic screwdriver to a copy of Spot Gets Rabies And Goes Out of His Bleeding Mind - was fastidiously emptied.

"No glasses," he summarised, and handed the empty jacket to Rose.

Rose plunged her hand into every pocket, but came out empty.

"See? No glasses."

"Must have been your trouser pockets then."

The Doctor sighed and removed the TARDIS key, a packet of candy and several curious devices that resembled the offspring of a tamagotchi and a spider, and dropped them on the pile on the console. "No glasses, Rose. Are you sure you saw me pocket them?"

"Definitely," Rose insisted. "I don't need glasses."

The Doctor arched and eyebrow and decided not to mention that in the galactic community of eyesight, humans were the ones who regularly bumped into things looking for the light switch that wasn't there.

"Shoes?" Rose suggested.

"Rose, I do not put spectacles in my shoes!"

"Prove it!"

The Doctor slipped off his shoes. Bar a few grains of alien sand, they were empty.

"What about your socks?"

Same result.

"Must be in your trousers."

The Doctor removed them angrilly. "Rose, they're not in my trousers. No holes in the pockets, no secret pockets, no glasses, nothing!"

"What about your shirt?"

"Rose, this is ridiculous..." The Doctor undid his tie and threw it onto the handstand. He unbuttoned his shirt and, after shaking it violently, threw it on the floor. "Rose, I'm not sure you're hearing the question. Take out your iPod earpiece and tell me - where - are - my - glasses?"

"One place left to look," Rose suggested with a shrug.

The Doctor despaired and as his hands moved to his underwear, Rose increased the volume of her iPod.

The Stripper Song blared louder in her ears.


"Nice ficlet" - DeaMaxwell

"YoA, you are a gem!" - Arisia

"*claps like a ninny at YoA* Oh, hehehehehe....Thank you" - aminspace

"EYY you's! Think twice about trying to spank ME - I'm the one who specifically invited YOA here for that squeeful contribution. (Just wheedling, no sticky traps.) Had to bring him out of t' other section with hotlinks even." - warped

"I don't get it." - notouchpod


Jared "No Nickname" Hansen said...

notouchpod is a Category 1 Genius.

Also, I like it.

Youth of Australia said...


I have to say I'm still in shock at Spara's new story written after his outrage that Matt Smith is not in fact gay. You know how I hated the fact he's stopped being so utterly awful it was entertaining?

Well, he's found his groove.

Indeed, with its complete lack of Ben Chatham so far, it might even be worth putting on the Sparacus Universum Archivium...