(Doctor Who, gen) Male of the Species
Title: Male of the Species
Author: vnilla
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Donna, Ten
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1480
Summary: In which the Doctor and Donna must pretend to be married in order to get off a planet, people make fun of the Doctor's hair, and Donna enjoys a refreshing beverage.
Author's Notes: This was originally written for cliche_bingo. I knew right away I wanted some light-hearted Doctor 'n' Donna fun to come of it. Much love to fahye for seeing me through my writer's block. ♥
When the TARDIS crashed into an unknown destination for the third time in a week, Donna was less concerned with the wonders of the universe and more with peeling herself off the floor. "Doesn't even have a carpet," she muttered as the Doctor poked his head outside, no doubt delighted with this latest adventure. Despite her general dislike of being tossed about, Donna felt a twinge of excitement.
Which was then superseded by the twinge in her knee as she stood up.
"Have you ever thought of redecorating this old thing? Do aliens not need chairs?" Donna thought she had rather a good point--who wanted to be standing for hours of navigation, if it came to that?--but the Doctor just ran on past her and started flicking switches. A little error message began flashing almost gleefully on one of the screens. Donna swore that the TARDIS had moods, as well as its own ideas about navigation.
The Doctor began nattering on about the transtemporal whatsit interfering with the connector to the operator thingy as he started messing around with wires. One spectacular shower of sparks later, the Doctor held up a sad-looking wire and said, "I think we need a new one of these."
"You know, your hair really doesn't look any different after you've been electrocuted," Donna said thoughtfully.
Ignoring that, he continued, "There's a bit you should know about Trinbian culture before we can go shopping. Interesting people, the Trinbians, don't approve of males appearing in public without the supervision of female family members." The Doctor stared at the ceiling as if it had become suddenly fascinating. "In fact, they won't do business with me at all, and they won't do business with you if they think I'm not, er, suitably disciplined."
Donna briefly entertained thoughts of asking whether this made the Trinbians alien dominatrices, but decided she didn't want to know that much about the Doctor's life, or the lives of Trinbians, for that matter. "I'm not old enough to be your mum, and we don't look anything alike, so that leaves..." Then it all slid into place, and she couldn't help the grin that spread over her face. "Well then, Mr. Noble. Shall we?"
As they left the TARDIS, she could have sworn it seemed amused as well.
*
The Trinbian market didn't look any different from markets on Earth, save for the two suns in the sky. Well, and there was the occasional tentacled alien, but that seemed practically normal by now. The Trinbians themselves were humanoid in appearance, except for the lavender skin and lack of visible ears. The females seemed to all be wearing robes of various clashing neon colors, bustling about and haggling with the vendors. The few males in the market were dressed in brown and loaded down with parcels.
Donna shaded her eyes against the glare and said, "I think they're selling wires and things in that stall over there." A pause. "Never mind, the Trinbian just took a bite of the merchandise. Does all their food look like technology?"
"Only the nutritious stuff. Come on then, I think the computer parts are this way." The Doctor began striding off in one direction, but Donna grabbed him by the back of his coat and hauled him backwards.
"Don't want them to think you're not properly disciplined, d'you?" she inquired with a bright smile. "I'll lead the way. You just tell me what I'm looking for."
The Doctor seemed somewhat nonplussed, but to his credit, made no protest. "Judging by the material for the clothes, the position of the suns, and..." He trailed off in order to grab a small statuette off a stall table and lick it. "Right, we're in the Seheal period during the growing season, which means we want one of their carvine cables!"
"THIEF!" the statuette vendor shrieked at truly outrageous decibels, and then the marketplace got very, very quiet.
The Doctor grinned nervously and put the statuette back as disapproving whispers began to spread through the crowd. "All right, then?"
"How dare you speak to me!" The vendor, it seemed, was not placated. She pointed an accusing finger at Donna. "What kind of female allows her thieving, ill-mannered, ungroomed male to leave her dwelling? Shame on you! Shame!"
The Doctor patted his hair, making it more of a disaster than ever. "Ill-groomed?"
Seeing their chances of ever getting off the planet slipping away, Donna whirled on him. "Oi, you stupid git! You don't have two brain cells to rub together, so keep your head down and your mouth shut! I've got business to take care of!" Choking back the urge to laugh at the Doctor's expression, Donna added in her best haughty tone, "And comb your hair or it's coming off."
After her little display of dominance, the merchants seemed much more eager to have Donna sample their wares, and anyway the market was so crowded that progress was slow-going. At least, that was how Donna justified stopping to look at the different stalls. With all the saving of people and galaxies and whatnot, she hadn't picked up any souvenirs for people back home, and a girl could always use more jewelry.
"That is a necklace made from the bones of Ethuv children!" the vendor enthused, and Donna promptly set the thing down, stomach turning over. The Doctor stage whispering that the people of Ethuv regenerated their bones as a necessary part of adolescence didn't make her feel any better, though shushing the Doctor for daring to speak in public did. She wasn't taking advantage of the local culture, exactly, just making sure his motormouth didn't leave them stranded in a galaxy far, far away.
So far, however, the motormouth was doing as she'd asked (well, demanded) and staying silent. Well, except for refusing the vendor who desperately wanted to trade a small furry thing in a cage in exchange for his shoelaces.
The place selling computer parts turned out to be an actual building, with fancy lights outside proclaiming huge sales. The interior had wide aisles and immaculate shelves with the merchandise carefully arranged, and the whole effect would have been tasteful and artistic were it not for the fact that everything was painted an eye-melting green. There was, however, a Trinbian woman at the door with a tray of drinks. Donna selected a yellow drink with a little pink umbrella, hoping the liquid wasn't made from alien mucus or something like that. That was the trouble with traveling in space as well as time. "Tastes of apples and peanut butter," she told the Doctor after a sip. Before he could open his mouth, she added, "Means I don't want to know what's in it, thanks."
A different Trinbian woman walked over to them. Her robes were the same shade of green as the rest of the store, giving the effect of a floating head and hands. Donna blinked away the urge to let her eyes cross, and said with as much authority as she could muster, "I'm looking for a replacement carvine cable."
"I'm terribly sorry, but we're out of carvine cables until the next shipment comes in," the Trinbian woman apologized. Donna, having adjusted somewhat to the glaring green, realized that she was wearing a nametag that spelled out HELLO MY NAME IS FRAN. "May I suggest some alternatives?"
"Er," Donna said, casting a frantic look to the Doctor, who nodded. Fran's eyebrows arched in a universal gesture of surprised disdain, and Donna decided to head off that nonsense before it started up again. "On my planet, it's the men who mostly do the technology-related things. You'll have to excuse me for not knowing anything about what we see as men's work. Bit of a culture shock, you know."
Nothing like deceiving with the truth.
Fran the Trinbian fluttered her hands and began apologizing again, this time for her insensitivity. The Doctor gave Donna a thumbs-up as he wandered over to a table, putting on his glasses to examine the items on it. "This one will do, if it's all right with the missus," he said with a grin. Donna gave him a thumbs-up of her own and finished her drink.
All in all, not a bad space adventure at all.
*
In the middle of the Doctor's TARDIS repairs, a thought occurred to Donna. "Why were you trying so hard to avoid setting foot on that planet?" she asked the Doctor. "Nobody even tried to kill us! That's a nice place by our standards."
The Doctor coughed and went back to staring at the ceiling. Donna looked up as well, just to make sure there was nothing up there. "The Trinbians get a bit more interesting depending on what time period you visit them in. Usually they think the best way for wives to discipline to their wayward husbands is a public flogging. Of a sexual nature."
"I knew it," Donna said.
Author: vnilla
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Donna, Ten
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1480
Summary: In which the Doctor and Donna must pretend to be married in order to get off a planet, people make fun of the Doctor's hair, and Donna enjoys a refreshing beverage.
Author's Notes: This was originally written for cliche_bingo. I knew right away I wanted some light-hearted Doctor 'n' Donna fun to come of it. Much love to fahye for seeing me through my writer's block. ♥
When the TARDIS crashed into an unknown destination for the third time in a week, Donna was less concerned with the wonders of the universe and more with peeling herself off the floor. "Doesn't even have a carpet," she muttered as the Doctor poked his head outside, no doubt delighted with this latest adventure. Despite her general dislike of being tossed about, Donna felt a twinge of excitement.
Which was then superseded by the twinge in her knee as she stood up.
"Have you ever thought of redecorating this old thing? Do aliens not need chairs?" Donna thought she had rather a good point--who wanted to be standing for hours of navigation, if it came to that?--but the Doctor just ran on past her and started flicking switches. A little error message began flashing almost gleefully on one of the screens. Donna swore that the TARDIS had moods, as well as its own ideas about navigation.
The Doctor began nattering on about the transtemporal whatsit interfering with the connector to the operator thingy as he started messing around with wires. One spectacular shower of sparks later, the Doctor held up a sad-looking wire and said, "I think we need a new one of these."
"You know, your hair really doesn't look any different after you've been electrocuted," Donna said thoughtfully.
Ignoring that, he continued, "There's a bit you should know about Trinbian culture before we can go shopping. Interesting people, the Trinbians, don't approve of males appearing in public without the supervision of female family members." The Doctor stared at the ceiling as if it had become suddenly fascinating. "In fact, they won't do business with me at all, and they won't do business with you if they think I'm not, er, suitably disciplined."
Donna briefly entertained thoughts of asking whether this made the Trinbians alien dominatrices, but decided she didn't want to know that much about the Doctor's life, or the lives of Trinbians, for that matter. "I'm not old enough to be your mum, and we don't look anything alike, so that leaves..." Then it all slid into place, and she couldn't help the grin that spread over her face. "Well then, Mr. Noble. Shall we?"
As they left the TARDIS, she could have sworn it seemed amused as well.
*
The Trinbian market didn't look any different from markets on Earth, save for the two suns in the sky. Well, and there was the occasional tentacled alien, but that seemed practically normal by now. The Trinbians themselves were humanoid in appearance, except for the lavender skin and lack of visible ears. The females seemed to all be wearing robes of various clashing neon colors, bustling about and haggling with the vendors. The few males in the market were dressed in brown and loaded down with parcels.
Donna shaded her eyes against the glare and said, "I think they're selling wires and things in that stall over there." A pause. "Never mind, the Trinbian just took a bite of the merchandise. Does all their food look like technology?"
"Only the nutritious stuff. Come on then, I think the computer parts are this way." The Doctor began striding off in one direction, but Donna grabbed him by the back of his coat and hauled him backwards.
"Don't want them to think you're not properly disciplined, d'you?" she inquired with a bright smile. "I'll lead the way. You just tell me what I'm looking for."
The Doctor seemed somewhat nonplussed, but to his credit, made no protest. "Judging by the material for the clothes, the position of the suns, and..." He trailed off in order to grab a small statuette off a stall table and lick it. "Right, we're in the Seheal period during the growing season, which means we want one of their carvine cables!"
"THIEF!" the statuette vendor shrieked at truly outrageous decibels, and then the marketplace got very, very quiet.
The Doctor grinned nervously and put the statuette back as disapproving whispers began to spread through the crowd. "All right, then?"
"How dare you speak to me!" The vendor, it seemed, was not placated. She pointed an accusing finger at Donna. "What kind of female allows her thieving, ill-mannered, ungroomed male to leave her dwelling? Shame on you! Shame!"
The Doctor patted his hair, making it more of a disaster than ever. "Ill-groomed?"
Seeing their chances of ever getting off the planet slipping away, Donna whirled on him. "Oi, you stupid git! You don't have two brain cells to rub together, so keep your head down and your mouth shut! I've got business to take care of!" Choking back the urge to laugh at the Doctor's expression, Donna added in her best haughty tone, "And comb your hair or it's coming off."
After her little display of dominance, the merchants seemed much more eager to have Donna sample their wares, and anyway the market was so crowded that progress was slow-going. At least, that was how Donna justified stopping to look at the different stalls. With all the saving of people and galaxies and whatnot, she hadn't picked up any souvenirs for people back home, and a girl could always use more jewelry.
"That is a necklace made from the bones of Ethuv children!" the vendor enthused, and Donna promptly set the thing down, stomach turning over. The Doctor stage whispering that the people of Ethuv regenerated their bones as a necessary part of adolescence didn't make her feel any better, though shushing the Doctor for daring to speak in public did. She wasn't taking advantage of the local culture, exactly, just making sure his motormouth didn't leave them stranded in a galaxy far, far away.
So far, however, the motormouth was doing as she'd asked (well, demanded) and staying silent. Well, except for refusing the vendor who desperately wanted to trade a small furry thing in a cage in exchange for his shoelaces.
The place selling computer parts turned out to be an actual building, with fancy lights outside proclaiming huge sales. The interior had wide aisles and immaculate shelves with the merchandise carefully arranged, and the whole effect would have been tasteful and artistic were it not for the fact that everything was painted an eye-melting green. There was, however, a Trinbian woman at the door with a tray of drinks. Donna selected a yellow drink with a little pink umbrella, hoping the liquid wasn't made from alien mucus or something like that. That was the trouble with traveling in space as well as time. "Tastes of apples and peanut butter," she told the Doctor after a sip. Before he could open his mouth, she added, "Means I don't want to know what's in it, thanks."
A different Trinbian woman walked over to them. Her robes were the same shade of green as the rest of the store, giving the effect of a floating head and hands. Donna blinked away the urge to let her eyes cross, and said with as much authority as she could muster, "I'm looking for a replacement carvine cable."
"I'm terribly sorry, but we're out of carvine cables until the next shipment comes in," the Trinbian woman apologized. Donna, having adjusted somewhat to the glaring green, realized that she was wearing a nametag that spelled out HELLO MY NAME IS FRAN. "May I suggest some alternatives?"
"Er," Donna said, casting a frantic look to the Doctor, who nodded. Fran's eyebrows arched in a universal gesture of surprised disdain, and Donna decided to head off that nonsense before it started up again. "On my planet, it's the men who mostly do the technology-related things. You'll have to excuse me for not knowing anything about what we see as men's work. Bit of a culture shock, you know."
Nothing like deceiving with the truth.
Fran the Trinbian fluttered her hands and began apologizing again, this time for her insensitivity. The Doctor gave Donna a thumbs-up as he wandered over to a table, putting on his glasses to examine the items on it. "This one will do, if it's all right with the missus," he said with a grin. Donna gave him a thumbs-up of her own and finished her drink.
All in all, not a bad space adventure at all.
*
In the middle of the Doctor's TARDIS repairs, a thought occurred to Donna. "Why were you trying so hard to avoid setting foot on that planet?" she asked the Doctor. "Nobody even tried to kill us! That's a nice place by our standards."
The Doctor coughed and went back to staring at the ceiling. Donna looked up as well, just to make sure there was nothing up there. "The Trinbians get a bit more interesting depending on what time period you visit them in. Usually they think the best way for wives to discipline to their wayward husbands is a public flogging. Of a sexual nature."
"I knew it," Donna said.