I am a dork
Cracked out dorky Doctor Who ficlet type thing that took me all of five minutes. Featuring the ULTIMATE Doctor Who pairing. Oh yes. This will make little to no sense if you haven't seen Fear Her.
She had been perfect. He loved her. He really did. The feelings had been building slowly but surely and now he realised how truly foolish he had been not to release them. She would never know how he felt.
There was so much anger in him now. Anger towards them, the ones who took her away. Oh, it may have looked like metal that ripped into her flesh but it was human hands that drove it. Human hands that drove the force destroying his beloved.
The sorrow overwhelmed him and he bent once more to stroke her, still warm in the gentle daylight. Just five minutes ago they had been so happy, and now she was gone, never to be returned to him.
Logically he knew there would be others to take her place; others who could fill the hole in his heart, hold his hand. Still, although they might look similar, none would be quite the same. None would be quite as perfect as she was. Her warmth, her touch. He would never forget it.
With a sigh Kel the council street repair guy stood upright once more and turned away from the once stunning patch of tarmac that had held his heart. His van was waiting for him, and thankfully the girl had taken the pickaxe with her when she disappeared. It would not taunt him. Instead he held the memory of his love close to his heart and drove away, never to be seen in the street again.
He didn’t look back, preferring to remember her as she was, all dark moist perfection. It was what she would have wanted. He would never feel this way again.
The next day, somewhere in space and time…
“What on Earth’s this?”
“Oh God, I must have picked up that guy’s council pickaxe.”
“Council pickaxe?”
“Came from his council van. I think he loved it with most of his council heart.”
“You stole it.”
“I did not.”
“You did, I can see the Council envy in your eyes. You wanted it.”
“Stop talking rubbish.”
“We should give it back then, if it doesn’t mean anything to you.”
“Fine then. Just drop it for all that I care.”
“Drop it? But that could kill somebody! You murderer.”
“Can’t you just make it not hit somebody. Like, choose a time when there won’t be anyone standing there.”
“What makes you think I have that much self control? I have always wanted to try target practice from space.”
“You what?”
“Target practice from space.”
“I give up. I just completely give up. What would your target be anyway?”
“The council guy. I mean, if he loved his pickaxe so much, it should be returned. We’re doing him a favour.”
“You might kill him.”
“I might not. And if I do I’ll just go back to five minutes beforehand and make sure he moves.”
“Can you do that?”
“Probably. Don’t you want to try?”
*pause*
“Go on, then. But we can’t kill him.”
“Fantastic.”
“I swear, you are just like a bloody kid.”
“Don’t complain, you love it.”
A few seconds later. On Earth.
She was beautiful. Pefection. He loved her. He stood up to admire her from afar…
And there was a showering of tarmac and dust as a pickaxe came from nowhere and buried itself within her. Again.
And then there was a voice. A large intimidating voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere and echoed around him. A slightly familiar voice now he thought about it.
“Damn. I missed.”
She had been perfect. He loved her. He really did. The feelings had been building slowly but surely and now he realised how truly foolish he had been not to release them. She would never know how he felt.
There was so much anger in him now. Anger towards them, the ones who took her away. Oh, it may have looked like metal that ripped into her flesh but it was human hands that drove it. Human hands that drove the force destroying his beloved.
The sorrow overwhelmed him and he bent once more to stroke her, still warm in the gentle daylight. Just five minutes ago they had been so happy, and now she was gone, never to be returned to him.
Logically he knew there would be others to take her place; others who could fill the hole in his heart, hold his hand. Still, although they might look similar, none would be quite the same. None would be quite as perfect as she was. Her warmth, her touch. He would never forget it.
With a sigh Kel the council street repair guy stood upright once more and turned away from the once stunning patch of tarmac that had held his heart. His van was waiting for him, and thankfully the girl had taken the pickaxe with her when she disappeared. It would not taunt him. Instead he held the memory of his love close to his heart and drove away, never to be seen in the street again.
He didn’t look back, preferring to remember her as she was, all dark moist perfection. It was what she would have wanted. He would never feel this way again.
The next day, somewhere in space and time…
“What on Earth’s this?”
“Oh God, I must have picked up that guy’s council pickaxe.”
“Council pickaxe?”
“Came from his council van. I think he loved it with most of his council heart.”
“You stole it.”
“I did not.”
“You did, I can see the Council envy in your eyes. You wanted it.”
“Stop talking rubbish.”
“We should give it back then, if it doesn’t mean anything to you.”
“Fine then. Just drop it for all that I care.”
“Drop it? But that could kill somebody! You murderer.”
“Can’t you just make it not hit somebody. Like, choose a time when there won’t be anyone standing there.”
“What makes you think I have that much self control? I have always wanted to try target practice from space.”
“You what?”
“Target practice from space.”
“I give up. I just completely give up. What would your target be anyway?”
“The council guy. I mean, if he loved his pickaxe so much, it should be returned. We’re doing him a favour.”
“You might kill him.”
“I might not. And if I do I’ll just go back to five minutes beforehand and make sure he moves.”
“Can you do that?”
“Probably. Don’t you want to try?”
*pause*
“Go on, then. But we can’t kill him.”
“Fantastic.”
“I swear, you are just like a bloody kid.”
“Don’t complain, you love it.”
A few seconds later. On Earth.
She was beautiful. Pefection. He loved her. He stood up to admire her from afar…
And there was a showering of tarmac and dust as a pickaxe came from nowhere and buried itself within her. Again.
And then there was a voice. A large intimidating voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere and echoed around him. A slightly familiar voice now he thought about it.
“Damn. I missed.”