The first fic I ever wrote for this pair was the first one ever put onto OG and very likely the first posted fic for them EVER. This is a historical document, people, and thus worth putting up since OG appears be on a collision course for the heart of a sun.
Doesn't mean this is actually any good, though...
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Buttons, switches, dials, rotating spheres, crystals slotted into grooves... The controls on the panel were completely dissimilar to each other, their only common factor being the way they were laid into the polished wooden paneling of the hexagonal control desk. But the pale, well-manicured hands that operated these controls moved with such confidence it was clear that their owner considered them less than the sophisticated energies they guided.
The hands belonged to a tall, slender man with close-cropped auburn hair and delicately pointed features. His eyes were the colour of emeralds, and were not inclined to blink as time passed. The clothes he wore were a casual collection from many different places, but together they formed a simple ensemble that was (usually) not commented by others, no matter what their native time period.
However, he stood out against his surroundings vividly – a broad stroke of colour against a honeycombed world of treacle and polished silver. The hexagonal chamber he was currently occupying was a large one, lit by glareless ceiling panels that divided the ceiling above him, and the spiral light fitting at its core. The regular glowing indentations in the walls providing more illumination, as did the crystalline elements of the control console and the odd light from its grilled hexagonal base.
The man at the controls did not spare his surroundings a spare glance if he could help it – on the occasions he did, he found himself wishing he was in the old control room with all its antique wood paneling and stained glass portholes... Still, he thought. No point pining over pinewood. He chuckled lightly and reached forward to punch a coded sequence into a checkered keypad.
“What’s so funny?” asked a voice over his shoulder.
Idly, the man turned and saw a young woman standing in one of the archways that lead to other parts of the complex. For a moment, his gaze lingered over the newcomer, as though he never seen her before in his life. Then, a warm smile of bright white teeth formed on his face, recognition filling his eyes. “Oh, nothing of consequence, my dear Rose, nothing at all.” As always, he took great care in pronouncing each word, as if savoring the separate meanings on his tongue. “I trust you’re well?” he asked, turning back to the controls once again.
“Better than ever,” replied Rose, stepping up onto the console podium beside her friend. She peered at the myriad controls before her and nodded as though confirming a long-held suspicion. “The sprockets still working then, Doctor?”
The Doctor glanced sideways at her and moved to another control panel. “Better than before. The overhaul’s perfect, as I said.” He pointed to a rectangle on the console that showed spinning shapes in series. “Earth, England, 1992, as requested. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Rose grinned at her companion. “If you say so, Doctor. If you say so.”
The Doctor nodded and peered at the displays. As her sarcastic tone penetrated his consciousness, the Doctor’s expression soured and he looked up at her and rolled his eyes. After all, their recent trials in the fourth and fifth dimensions had given her due cause to doubt his time machine’s capabilities – but he was certain that this time would be different.
The Doctor was, unfortunately, so engrossed in Rose’s laughter inspired by his somber expression that he totally missed the blinking red light ignite on the console at the exact moment an ethereal, wheezing, groaning sound filled the chamber around them...
#
It was the height of summer and the heat should have been oppressive – but the thick bank of clouds blocked out the sky and made the countryside below cool and lined it with shadows. The faint noise of birdsong was swallowed up as the trees they occupied swayed in the breeze, the green surface of the foliage rippling and crashing with soft sighs.
In one of the paddocks dotted around, something rather strange happened.
A square patch of long reeds was suddenly pressed hard into the soil, the empty air above filled with a shifting, electric blue colour, like light reflecting off moving water. A strange sound descended into the range of human hearing, becoming a tortured grating, chuffing noise. The blue glow spread and darkened, coalescing into an upright paneled booth. The noise stopped abruptly with a metallic clang, and the yellow lamp on the booth’s pyramidal roof ceased its regular flashing.
For a long moment, the intruder listed in the field, silent bar a curious humming sound beneath its tattered blue paintwork. Then, a panel in its front swung back into the box, allowing the Doctor to step out into the lonely, grey landscape. He adjusted the angle of the broad-brimmed hat he’d placed on his head and slowly looked around him, his distinctive face showing a total lack of reaction to either his surroundings or his unusual method of arrival.
Rose Tyler emerged from the box and the door slammed shut behind her, seemingly of its own accord. Rose was not particularly worried about the action – there was an air of melodrama about the incident, rather than menace, as though the box was simply making sure she paid it some attention. While she wasn’t entirely convinced the time machine was alive like the Doctor said, little moments like this gave her pause for thought. However, her face fell as she looked around.
Before her was the beginning of a large wood of non-deciduous trees, surrounded by rolling hill and below a rain-threatening sky. “We could be anywhere,” she said, deflated somewhat. The Doctor had seemed so confident he could get them where she asked for.
The Doctor inhaled deeply and smiled. “Yes,” he agreed. “Anywhere. Even where we were headed for.”
Rose crossed through the reeds towards her friend. “This is where you set the controls for?” she asked.
The Doctor shrugged. “Well, more or less, give or take,” he conceded. “This is definitely Earth and almost certainly England.” He jumped up in the air and nodded. “Definitely the right hemisphere, I’m sure about it. After all we’ve been through, it’s quite close, don’t you think?”
Rose eyed their lonely surroundings again. “Well, I suppose so. Why don’t we just go back inside and jump across to where we want to be?”
The Doctor shook his head. “You know, I don’t think that will work. We need to know where we are before we can simply decide where we can go to. Tell you what, I’ll just pop over the hill and see just where we are. Are you coming?” he asked brightly.
Normally, Rose would have agreed right away. However, the cold was eating through her clothes and the warm interior of the TARDIS seemed too good a chance to miss. Besides, she trusted the Doctor to be able to look after himself. “No, I think I’ll mind the fort. You won’t be long, will you?”
The Doctor was eagerly striding across the field towards the hill. “Time is relative,” he called back to her.
On second thoughts, maybe this should have been left to die on my harddrive...
Sunday, September 9, 2007
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2 comments:
Aw, come on! It's the best piece of Chris McGann fic I've ever read..
You cruel person, you.
I could try and justify that atrocity by saying back then we all thought the Ninth Doctor would look and act like Eccles in The League of Gentlemen...
...no, it doesn't work.
Uptakes on the Chatham blog.
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