Fic for _thirty2flavors: How the Doctor Ended the World by Changing the Fixed Point....
Happy birthday, _thirty2flavors! Welcome to your 20s. Google informs me that is bitterly cold for your birthday, which I think is only fair.
Here, I wrote you fic:
Title: How the Doctor Ended the World by Changing the Fixed Point in Time that is Firefly’s Cancellation
Characters: Ten, OC
Summary: How crazy Ten ends the world by changing the fixed point in time that is Firefly’s cancellation.
Spoilers: WoM
A/N: For _thirty2flavors! Based entirely on this conversation. I know that this is the fic that you have always wanted.
The room was dark.
The Fox Executive sat hunched over in his chair, scanning the network’s financial update under the glare of a desk lamp. His eyes were beginning to blur behind his glasses and he rubbed futilely at his temples, his head throbbing.
One thing was clear, though. Joss Whedon’s new show, Firefly, was never going to bring in the ratings that Fox needed to churn a hefty profit. So what if it had only been running for four weeks? Most people at Fox knew what Joss Whedon did not-cowboys in space were simply never going to work.
The Fox Executive reached for his red pen. He had written the “c” in “cancelled” when a sudden voice said, “I wouldn’t do that.”
The Fox Executive bolted upright, squinting into the glare of the desk lamp. A tall and skinny man seemed to melt out from the darkness. He was dressed in a long brown overcoat and his hair was sticky and messy like he had been pulling and tugging at it with his fingers.
“Who the hell are you?” said the Fox Executive without preamble (after all, he generally reserved niceties for people who entered his office after knocking-and only then if they were more important and/or powerful than he was).
The man moved into the light and bent down over the desk. “I’m the Doctor,” said the man, “and I’m here to stop you.”
The Fox Executive rubbed at his temples again. Thank god he was getting paid a hefty overtime fee for this job. “Stop me from doing what?”
The Doctor’s gaze flicked to the red pen. “You’re making a mistake.”
The Fox Executive clamped down on a sigh. He hated when crazy fans pulled this sort of shit.
“Decision’s been made, sorry,” said the Fox Executive even though he wasn’t very sorry at all. The man’s eyes flashed in way the Fox Executive would later come to think of as a warning. “Look, buddy, it’s nothing personal, okay? It’s a business decision. Nothing more.”
“A business decision,” the man spat before adding dramatically, “Americans.”
“And god bless us,” said the Fox Executive. He leaned forward in his chair. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get by security?”
He began to grope on the underside of his desk, fingers searching for the panic button installed for emergencies exactly like this.
“Oh, I’m very clever,” said the Doctor, suddenly calm and mild. “And-”
The Fox Executive found the panic button and pressed it.
“-calling security will be no use,” he continued. He reached in his pocket and then pulled out a glowing blue stick that made a low humming noise. “No one will be coming to look for you for a very, very long time.”
The Fox Executive swallowed. “What do you want?”
“Now that’s a loaded question,” said the Doctor. He replaced the glowing blue stick in his pocket and then backed away from the desk, shoving his hands in his pockets. He rocked back on his heels. “Right here, right now? I want to stop you from cancelling Firefly.” He suddenly gave a wide, beaming grin. “Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say. Of course, there are many things I never thought I’d do, and here we are.”
He was crazy, the Fox Executive thought. The man was crazy. That was the only explanation.
“I don’t...” he suddenly found it hard to find his voice, “I don’t think I know what you mean.”
“I mean,” said the Doctor, “this show-this moment-is a fixed point in time. Can you imagine that? It’s only a television programme-insignificant, unimportant.” The man paused. “But it’s more than that. Because if Firefly hadn’t been cancelled, Joss Whedon never would have pushed forward with Serenity, and if it hadn’t been for Serenity then who knows what would have happened? No Dr. Horrible, no Dollhouse, no bid to take over the Terminator franchise. The whole of history changes.”
The Fox Executive gripped his red pen very hard. “Did you come from an institution somewhere? Is there someone I can call?”
“An ordinary man, that’s the most important thing in all of creation,” said the Doctor slowly. “I told that to a friend of mine once.” He stared off into space as if drawn into a particularly fond and soothing memory. “She was blonde.”
“Aren’t they all,” the Fox Executive muttered, feeling a momentary sense of kinship with the strange man.
“Queen Elizabeth was blonde, did you know?” the Doctor continued like he’d completely lost track of what conversation they were having. “Well, sort of. Sometimes. In the right light.... if you sort of squinted and hopped on one foot. Of course, that didn’t last long. Anyway, here is the thing-” the Doctor moved towards the desk again, bending low so he could look the Fox Executive in the eyes, “I really want to know how the series will end.”
“The... what?”
The Doctor waved a hand impatiently. “Firefly. Malcolm Reynolds. Reavers. River Tam and two-by-two, hands-of-blue.”
“I’m... I’m sorry,” stammered the Fox Executive, “I’ve never actually seen it.”
“Plenty of time to rectify that, mate, don’t worry!” said the Doctor cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder. The Fox Executive thought this overly friendly display was the most terrifying thing the man had done yet. “And I promise you, you won’t regret it. Well, if the world doesn’t end, that is.”
“The fate of the world doesn’t hang on the fate of a television series,” said the Fox Executive, “that’s completely crazy.”
The Doctor raised his eyebrows and then in a deathly calm voice said, “Is it?”
“Yes,” said the Fox Executive, trying to sound firm and sounding more like he had when he asked his high school sweetheart out on their first date.
“Ah,” said the Doctor, with a smirk that clearly indicated he thought he’d won that particular exchange. “So you’ll renew it, then? We’ll say... ooh, for at least one more season. How does that sound?”
The Fox Executive suddenly found himself wishing for a stiff drink. “Fox doesn’t respond to threats, Mr.... Doctor. Final decisions are based on revenues. Nothing more. Do you have any idea how much hate mail we receive on a daily basis?”
“Oh, I’d say this is a step past 'hate mail,'” said the Doctor. He pulled out his glowing blue stick again, twirling it once in the air before pointing it ahead of him. The Fox Executive heard a ‘click’ and looked down to find that the renewal forms for a second season of Firefly were sitting on his desk. He looked up, mouth falling open.
“And that’s just the start of what I can do. As we speak, cast and crew are hearing the good news.” He flicked the blue stick off and then sobered. “You don’t want us to have another conversation about this in the future, believe me.”
“You can’t-” began the Fox Executive, “-this isn’t your decision to make, Doctor, you have no right to come in here and just... just rearrange things to suit your own purposes-”
The Doctor waved a hand. “Sometimes, Mr. Fox Executive, a few rules can be broken when it comes to the greater good. And believe me when I tell you that renewing Firefly is for the good of all.”
***
And after the fifteenth episode of Firefly was filmed and broadcast, the world exploded.
Here, I wrote you fic:
Title: How the Doctor Ended the World by Changing the Fixed Point in Time that is Firefly’s Cancellation
Characters: Ten, OC
Summary: How crazy Ten ends the world by changing the fixed point in time that is Firefly’s cancellation.
Spoilers: WoM
A/N: For _thirty2flavors! Based entirely on this conversation. I know that this is the fic that you have always wanted.
The room was dark.
The Fox Executive sat hunched over in his chair, scanning the network’s financial update under the glare of a desk lamp. His eyes were beginning to blur behind his glasses and he rubbed futilely at his temples, his head throbbing.
One thing was clear, though. Joss Whedon’s new show, Firefly, was never going to bring in the ratings that Fox needed to churn a hefty profit. So what if it had only been running for four weeks? Most people at Fox knew what Joss Whedon did not-cowboys in space were simply never going to work.
The Fox Executive reached for his red pen. He had written the “c” in “cancelled” when a sudden voice said, “I wouldn’t do that.”
The Fox Executive bolted upright, squinting into the glare of the desk lamp. A tall and skinny man seemed to melt out from the darkness. He was dressed in a long brown overcoat and his hair was sticky and messy like he had been pulling and tugging at it with his fingers.
“Who the hell are you?” said the Fox Executive without preamble (after all, he generally reserved niceties for people who entered his office after knocking-and only then if they were more important and/or powerful than he was).
The man moved into the light and bent down over the desk. “I’m the Doctor,” said the man, “and I’m here to stop you.”
The Fox Executive rubbed at his temples again. Thank god he was getting paid a hefty overtime fee for this job. “Stop me from doing what?”
The Doctor’s gaze flicked to the red pen. “You’re making a mistake.”
The Fox Executive clamped down on a sigh. He hated when crazy fans pulled this sort of shit.
“Decision’s been made, sorry,” said the Fox Executive even though he wasn’t very sorry at all. The man’s eyes flashed in way the Fox Executive would later come to think of as a warning. “Look, buddy, it’s nothing personal, okay? It’s a business decision. Nothing more.”
“A business decision,” the man spat before adding dramatically, “Americans.”
“And god bless us,” said the Fox Executive. He leaned forward in his chair. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get by security?”
He began to grope on the underside of his desk, fingers searching for the panic button installed for emergencies exactly like this.
“Oh, I’m very clever,” said the Doctor, suddenly calm and mild. “And-”
The Fox Executive found the panic button and pressed it.
“-calling security will be no use,” he continued. He reached in his pocket and then pulled out a glowing blue stick that made a low humming noise. “No one will be coming to look for you for a very, very long time.”
The Fox Executive swallowed. “What do you want?”
“Now that’s a loaded question,” said the Doctor. He replaced the glowing blue stick in his pocket and then backed away from the desk, shoving his hands in his pockets. He rocked back on his heels. “Right here, right now? I want to stop you from cancelling Firefly.” He suddenly gave a wide, beaming grin. “Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say. Of course, there are many things I never thought I’d do, and here we are.”
He was crazy, the Fox Executive thought. The man was crazy. That was the only explanation.
“I don’t...” he suddenly found it hard to find his voice, “I don’t think I know what you mean.”
“I mean,” said the Doctor, “this show-this moment-is a fixed point in time. Can you imagine that? It’s only a television programme-insignificant, unimportant.” The man paused. “But it’s more than that. Because if Firefly hadn’t been cancelled, Joss Whedon never would have pushed forward with Serenity, and if it hadn’t been for Serenity then who knows what would have happened? No Dr. Horrible, no Dollhouse, no bid to take over the Terminator franchise. The whole of history changes.”
The Fox Executive gripped his red pen very hard. “Did you come from an institution somewhere? Is there someone I can call?”
“An ordinary man, that’s the most important thing in all of creation,” said the Doctor slowly. “I told that to a friend of mine once.” He stared off into space as if drawn into a particularly fond and soothing memory. “She was blonde.”
“Aren’t they all,” the Fox Executive muttered, feeling a momentary sense of kinship with the strange man.
“Queen Elizabeth was blonde, did you know?” the Doctor continued like he’d completely lost track of what conversation they were having. “Well, sort of. Sometimes. In the right light.... if you sort of squinted and hopped on one foot. Of course, that didn’t last long. Anyway, here is the thing-” the Doctor moved towards the desk again, bending low so he could look the Fox Executive in the eyes, “I really want to know how the series will end.”
“The... what?”
The Doctor waved a hand impatiently. “Firefly. Malcolm Reynolds. Reavers. River Tam and two-by-two, hands-of-blue.”
“I’m... I’m sorry,” stammered the Fox Executive, “I’ve never actually seen it.”
“Plenty of time to rectify that, mate, don’t worry!” said the Doctor cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder. The Fox Executive thought this overly friendly display was the most terrifying thing the man had done yet. “And I promise you, you won’t regret it. Well, if the world doesn’t end, that is.”
“The fate of the world doesn’t hang on the fate of a television series,” said the Fox Executive, “that’s completely crazy.”
The Doctor raised his eyebrows and then in a deathly calm voice said, “Is it?”
“Yes,” said the Fox Executive, trying to sound firm and sounding more like he had when he asked his high school sweetheart out on their first date.
“Ah,” said the Doctor, with a smirk that clearly indicated he thought he’d won that particular exchange. “So you’ll renew it, then? We’ll say... ooh, for at least one more season. How does that sound?”
The Fox Executive suddenly found himself wishing for a stiff drink. “Fox doesn’t respond to threats, Mr.... Doctor. Final decisions are based on revenues. Nothing more. Do you have any idea how much hate mail we receive on a daily basis?”
“Oh, I’d say this is a step past 'hate mail,'” said the Doctor. He pulled out his glowing blue stick again, twirling it once in the air before pointing it ahead of him. The Fox Executive heard a ‘click’ and looked down to find that the renewal forms for a second season of Firefly were sitting on his desk. He looked up, mouth falling open.
“And that’s just the start of what I can do. As we speak, cast and crew are hearing the good news.” He flicked the blue stick off and then sobered. “You don’t want us to have another conversation about this in the future, believe me.”
“You can’t-” began the Fox Executive, “-this isn’t your decision to make, Doctor, you have no right to come in here and just... just rearrange things to suit your own purposes-”
The Doctor waved a hand. “Sometimes, Mr. Fox Executive, a few rules can be broken when it comes to the greater good. And believe me when I tell you that renewing Firefly is for the good of all.”
***
And after the fifteenth episode of Firefly was filmed and broadcast, the world exploded.