Fic: If You Were I: "John" 2/5
Title: If You Were I: "John"
Author: alex_caligari
Beta: jellybean728
Characters/Pairings: Doctor!Rose, Companion!Nine
Rating: PG
Summary: A blonde, an explosion, and a leather jacket.
Disclaimer: All puppets still firmly attached to the BBC.
Author's Notes: About a year ago, I was given a prompt about a gender/role-swapped Doctor and Companion, called "If You Were I". I decided that it needed to be fleshed out, and here is the result. With enough motivation it might become a 'verse all of it's own.
Chapter 1
My indecision regarding the police was a moot point the next morning when two uniforms knocked on my door.
They were polite enough, asking questions about my movements before the explosion and subtly implying that if I had anything to do with it they would find out, despite lack of CCTV, motive, or evidence. I gave them coffee and honest enough answers, saying that I thought I saw a woman fleeing the scene, but few other details.
After they left, I tried watching the news. Rampant speculation about why Harrods was targeted, who was behind it, and if this was a repeat of the recent Tube bombings forced me to turn it off. I picked up my mobile and put it down without dialling. My confusion over why I had protected the woman from the police made me restless and fidgety. She broke in and blew up a major corporation with a bloody homemade bomb; I should have been giving the police every detail possible. Instead I gave a vague description of a blonde woman who could run rather well.
My mind kept reminding me of three very important facts.
The incident took place after everyone was supposed to have gone home, except for stupid old me.
She helped me escape instead of leaving me behind.
She never mentioned any sort of mission or doctrine that could have prompted the attack.
I sat heavily on a chair while toying with a fork. She seemed damn friendly for a terrorist. Weren’t they supposed to be anti-social? Wasn’t that one of the signs the media always talked about? I decided to finally put it from my mind and start looking for another job when I heard a knock at the door.
I opened it to find brown eyes and a wide smile greeting me. “You!” I said.
“Now, John, don’t be so dramatic. I introduced myself last night. I distinctly remember it because it happened so soon after I met you. I’m the Doctor.”
“Is that your code name?” I asked.
She blinked. “No. If I was going to have a code name, it’d be something like Geoffrey Pie or Julia Shefftin.”
I stared down at her, nearly a head shorter than me. “How did you find me?”
“Don’t happen to have any dummies in here, do you?” she said, talking over me. “I mean, besides the one standing in front of me.” She laughed at her own joke, but it quickly died when I didn’t join her. She cleared her throat and held up a small tool. “I found you with this. It’s a scanner, of sorts.” She looked expectantly past me into the flat.
“Wait, you think I’m just going to let you walk into my home? You build bombs! You spied on me to find where I live. You’re probably going to plant something and trigger it when you’re round the corner. Wipe out the eyewitness. That’s what you lot do.” I tried to use my height to my advantage and took a firm stance.
“But you don’t believe any of that,” she replied. “You want to assume I’m an enemy because that’s what you’re taught. Anything dangerous is bad. I freely admit that I may be dangerous, but that doesn’t make me your enemy. On the contrary, I’m probably your best defence.”
I stared at her, again wondering at how this woman managed to sound so reasonable about something so insane.
“Plus you’re curious,” she added. “And, for better or for worse, curiosity beats fear any day.”
I pretended to think it over, already knowing she was right. “Okay,” I said. “But you’re explaining everything that happened last night.”
She laughed. “Anything for a cup of tea.” She breezed past me and began walking through different rooms. “Nice place you got. Just you?”
I followed her awkwardly. “Yeah. Uh, I guess I’ll put the kettle on.”
As I went through the familiar motions I thought wildly, I’m making tea for the person that blew up my job. What is wrong with me?
“So if you’re not a terrorist, what are you?” I could hear her rustling around in the sitting room. “Some sort of secret government organisation? Was Harrods like an underground base for a drug lord?”
Her head popped around the corner. “Where’s your mobile?”
“What?”
“The one you were brandishing at me yesterday, where is it?”
“Why do you need my mobile?”
“I think that’s what I picked up on my sort-of scanner. It’s weak but it’s definitely the same kind of signal.”
I motioned vaguely with my arm. “It should be in there somewhere.”
“Oh, right,” she said and disappeared. “Two sugars,” she called.
“Yes, dear,” I mumbled. A sharp crack from the sitting room made me jump, and hot tea sloshed over my hand. “What the hell is going on?”
I turned into the room to see her poking her strange tool into the innards of my former mobile. “What-”
“The mobile,” she said, sounding distracted and excited, “it was acting as a secondary transmitter. Like a relay. It was close enough to get caught up in the signal, and if I can just...there!” The phone lit up and started emitting a steady beep, like a radar scanner. “Perfect.”
She held up the mobile and turned in a slow circle, while the beeping increased in intensity. She stopped when the beep became a continuous tone and looked at me. “What direction is that?”
I shrugged. “South?”
“Towards the river. It’s a start.” She pocketed the mobile and the tool and turned to leave. “Thanks for the tea. I’m sure it would have been delicious,” she called.
“No, wait!” I caught her at the door. “This is the second time you’ve swanned off after doing something crazy to me. I want some answers.”
“As long as you can listen while you walk. C’mon.” She headed down the stairs.
I was once again walking beside a charming and pretty girl with absolutely nothing intelligent to say. “You don’t seem to be afraid of the police.”
“Oh, come on, you can do better than that,” she chided.
I felt like I was being tested. “Why are you called the Doctor? What’s your real name?”
“That’s more like it. The Doctor is my real name, at least it’s the one I use and that everybody knows me by. Which might explain all the confusion. Huh.”
We walked along the quiet street, getting closer to town. 2 o’clock on a Wednesday meant that people were at work or slowly moving through the shops, leaving the street to us. “So if you’re not a terrorist, and you’re not working for the government undercover, who are you with?” She didn’t answer, and I turned to see that she had fallen behind. She was looking at her reflection in a shop window, stroking her hair and examining her face critically. I walked back to her.
“Never been blonde before,” she muttered. “And big teeth. But I think they suit, don’t you? Hmm. Used to have lovely brown curls last time...”
“What are you going on about?” I asked.
“What? Oh, I like to...change. My looks. Quite a lot. What do you think?”
I sighed. “You look lovely,” I said, and felt a bit odd when she beamed at me. “Now can we get on?”
She stepped out and set a brisk pace. “Back to business then. And no, I’m not with any organization. I told you last night. I’m the only one left.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “You talk like you’re some lone gunman, the only sane man in a world full of crazy. It’s like you think you’re Batman!”
She stopped and looked at me seriously. I was struck by how mature and sombre her eyes were; she didn’t look older than 22. “I am the lone gunman. The last line of defence. Those dummies last night? That wasn’t a prank. Those were enemies of the human race. They want to wipe you out and make themselves the dominant species. And I’m the only one who both knows about and can stop them.”
I paused. This wasn’t crazy paranoid ranting; she was dead serious. “You make it sound like...they’re not from here.”
“Aliens.”
“Yeah.”
“Still want answers?”
I breathed slowly, watching this young woman who so violently invaded my life. “Yeah. I want to know. How do you plan to stop alien shop window dummies?”
She smiled and looped her arm through mine. “I knew you weren’t like other people. You’re just what I need.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered, not certain whether I was glad or worried at that distinction.
We walked in silence for three streets, arms still linked. I glanced down and saw that she had a faint frown of concentration. “Something wrong?” I asked.
“Well...” she started.
“Look, you said ‘aliens’ and I’m still here. What else are you going to throw at me? Werewolves?”
She looked up, startled, and said, “No, not werewolves. That’s in the advanced course. It’s just...well, you’ll see. It’s right up there.” She pointed up ahead and I had to look for a minute before I noticed anything.
“You mean that blue shed?”
“Oi! It’s not a shed! That police box is the best piece of technology in the universe, so show some respect.”
We walked up to it and it indeed had Police Public Call Box stamped on it. It was blue, a bit battered, and looked so out of place that I wondered how I didn’t see it before.
“Well?” she said again, this time in a tone of incredible pride.
“It’s, um, it’s a very nice police box. Do you keep your equipment in it?” I tried to ask politely.
She rolled her eyes in response. “Idiot,” I heard her mutter. She pulled out a key and unlocked the narrow door. “Come on in,” she said and disappeared inside.
I blinked. Seriously? Who goes into a shed with someone like that? Cursing the probability that I would end up identified only as John Doe in tomorrow’s newspaper, I stepped inside.
Chapter 3
Author: alex_caligari
Beta: jellybean728
Characters/Pairings: Doctor!Rose, Companion!Nine
Rating: PG
Summary: A blonde, an explosion, and a leather jacket.
Disclaimer: All puppets still firmly attached to the BBC.
Author's Notes: About a year ago, I was given a prompt about a gender/role-swapped Doctor and Companion, called "If You Were I". I decided that it needed to be fleshed out, and here is the result. With enough motivation it might become a 'verse all of it's own.
Chapter 1
My indecision regarding the police was a moot point the next morning when two uniforms knocked on my door.
They were polite enough, asking questions about my movements before the explosion and subtly implying that if I had anything to do with it they would find out, despite lack of CCTV, motive, or evidence. I gave them coffee and honest enough answers, saying that I thought I saw a woman fleeing the scene, but few other details.
After they left, I tried watching the news. Rampant speculation about why Harrods was targeted, who was behind it, and if this was a repeat of the recent Tube bombings forced me to turn it off. I picked up my mobile and put it down without dialling. My confusion over why I had protected the woman from the police made me restless and fidgety. She broke in and blew up a major corporation with a bloody homemade bomb; I should have been giving the police every detail possible. Instead I gave a vague description of a blonde woman who could run rather well.
My mind kept reminding me of three very important facts.
The incident took place after everyone was supposed to have gone home, except for stupid old me.
She helped me escape instead of leaving me behind.
She never mentioned any sort of mission or doctrine that could have prompted the attack.
I sat heavily on a chair while toying with a fork. She seemed damn friendly for a terrorist. Weren’t they supposed to be anti-social? Wasn’t that one of the signs the media always talked about? I decided to finally put it from my mind and start looking for another job when I heard a knock at the door.
I opened it to find brown eyes and a wide smile greeting me. “You!” I said.
“Now, John, don’t be so dramatic. I introduced myself last night. I distinctly remember it because it happened so soon after I met you. I’m the Doctor.”
“Is that your code name?” I asked.
She blinked. “No. If I was going to have a code name, it’d be something like Geoffrey Pie or Julia Shefftin.”
I stared down at her, nearly a head shorter than me. “How did you find me?”
“Don’t happen to have any dummies in here, do you?” she said, talking over me. “I mean, besides the one standing in front of me.” She laughed at her own joke, but it quickly died when I didn’t join her. She cleared her throat and held up a small tool. “I found you with this. It’s a scanner, of sorts.” She looked expectantly past me into the flat.
“Wait, you think I’m just going to let you walk into my home? You build bombs! You spied on me to find where I live. You’re probably going to plant something and trigger it when you’re round the corner. Wipe out the eyewitness. That’s what you lot do.” I tried to use my height to my advantage and took a firm stance.
“But you don’t believe any of that,” she replied. “You want to assume I’m an enemy because that’s what you’re taught. Anything dangerous is bad. I freely admit that I may be dangerous, but that doesn’t make me your enemy. On the contrary, I’m probably your best defence.”
I stared at her, again wondering at how this woman managed to sound so reasonable about something so insane.
“Plus you’re curious,” she added. “And, for better or for worse, curiosity beats fear any day.”
I pretended to think it over, already knowing she was right. “Okay,” I said. “But you’re explaining everything that happened last night.”
She laughed. “Anything for a cup of tea.” She breezed past me and began walking through different rooms. “Nice place you got. Just you?”
I followed her awkwardly. “Yeah. Uh, I guess I’ll put the kettle on.”
As I went through the familiar motions I thought wildly, I’m making tea for the person that blew up my job. What is wrong with me?
“So if you’re not a terrorist, what are you?” I could hear her rustling around in the sitting room. “Some sort of secret government organisation? Was Harrods like an underground base for a drug lord?”
Her head popped around the corner. “Where’s your mobile?”
“What?”
“The one you were brandishing at me yesterday, where is it?”
“Why do you need my mobile?”
“I think that’s what I picked up on my sort-of scanner. It’s weak but it’s definitely the same kind of signal.”
I motioned vaguely with my arm. “It should be in there somewhere.”
“Oh, right,” she said and disappeared. “Two sugars,” she called.
“Yes, dear,” I mumbled. A sharp crack from the sitting room made me jump, and hot tea sloshed over my hand. “What the hell is going on?”
I turned into the room to see her poking her strange tool into the innards of my former mobile. “What-”
“The mobile,” she said, sounding distracted and excited, “it was acting as a secondary transmitter. Like a relay. It was close enough to get caught up in the signal, and if I can just...there!” The phone lit up and started emitting a steady beep, like a radar scanner. “Perfect.”
She held up the mobile and turned in a slow circle, while the beeping increased in intensity. She stopped when the beep became a continuous tone and looked at me. “What direction is that?”
I shrugged. “South?”
“Towards the river. It’s a start.” She pocketed the mobile and the tool and turned to leave. “Thanks for the tea. I’m sure it would have been delicious,” she called.
“No, wait!” I caught her at the door. “This is the second time you’ve swanned off after doing something crazy to me. I want some answers.”
“As long as you can listen while you walk. C’mon.” She headed down the stairs.
I was once again walking beside a charming and pretty girl with absolutely nothing intelligent to say. “You don’t seem to be afraid of the police.”
“Oh, come on, you can do better than that,” she chided.
I felt like I was being tested. “Why are you called the Doctor? What’s your real name?”
“That’s more like it. The Doctor is my real name, at least it’s the one I use and that everybody knows me by. Which might explain all the confusion. Huh.”
We walked along the quiet street, getting closer to town. 2 o’clock on a Wednesday meant that people were at work or slowly moving through the shops, leaving the street to us. “So if you’re not a terrorist, and you’re not working for the government undercover, who are you with?” She didn’t answer, and I turned to see that she had fallen behind. She was looking at her reflection in a shop window, stroking her hair and examining her face critically. I walked back to her.
“Never been blonde before,” she muttered. “And big teeth. But I think they suit, don’t you? Hmm. Used to have lovely brown curls last time...”
“What are you going on about?” I asked.
“What? Oh, I like to...change. My looks. Quite a lot. What do you think?”
I sighed. “You look lovely,” I said, and felt a bit odd when she beamed at me. “Now can we get on?”
She stepped out and set a brisk pace. “Back to business then. And no, I’m not with any organization. I told you last night. I’m the only one left.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “You talk like you’re some lone gunman, the only sane man in a world full of crazy. It’s like you think you’re Batman!”
She stopped and looked at me seriously. I was struck by how mature and sombre her eyes were; she didn’t look older than 22. “I am the lone gunman. The last line of defence. Those dummies last night? That wasn’t a prank. Those were enemies of the human race. They want to wipe you out and make themselves the dominant species. And I’m the only one who both knows about and can stop them.”
I paused. This wasn’t crazy paranoid ranting; she was dead serious. “You make it sound like...they’re not from here.”
“Aliens.”
“Yeah.”
“Still want answers?”
I breathed slowly, watching this young woman who so violently invaded my life. “Yeah. I want to know. How do you plan to stop alien shop window dummies?”
She smiled and looped her arm through mine. “I knew you weren’t like other people. You’re just what I need.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered, not certain whether I was glad or worried at that distinction.
We walked in silence for three streets, arms still linked. I glanced down and saw that she had a faint frown of concentration. “Something wrong?” I asked.
“Well...” she started.
“Look, you said ‘aliens’ and I’m still here. What else are you going to throw at me? Werewolves?”
She looked up, startled, and said, “No, not werewolves. That’s in the advanced course. It’s just...well, you’ll see. It’s right up there.” She pointed up ahead and I had to look for a minute before I noticed anything.
“You mean that blue shed?”
“Oi! It’s not a shed! That police box is the best piece of technology in the universe, so show some respect.”
We walked up to it and it indeed had Police Public Call Box stamped on it. It was blue, a bit battered, and looked so out of place that I wondered how I didn’t see it before.
“Well?” she said again, this time in a tone of incredible pride.
“It’s, um, it’s a very nice police box. Do you keep your equipment in it?” I tried to ask politely.
She rolled her eyes in response. “Idiot,” I heard her mutter. She pulled out a key and unlocked the narrow door. “Come on in,” she said and disappeared inside.
I blinked. Seriously? Who goes into a shed with someone like that? Cursing the probability that I would end up identified only as John Doe in tomorrow’s newspaper, I stepped inside.
Chapter 3