The Wild Christmas Goose, and Chasings Thereof
Title: The Wild Christmas Goose, and Chasings Thereof
Characters: Ten II/Rose
Rating: All Ages
Summary: It's Christmas in Pete's World and Rose has to work.
A/N: I wrote this for round 2.12 of writerinatardis. The prompt was this quote from A. A. Milne: "Before beginning a Hunt, it is wise to ask someone what you are looking for before you begin looking for it." And we bid farewell to spikewriter this round. It's been a great time tackling the challenges together, and I'm sorry to see ya go. But I know you could definitely use the free time!
14:24, 25 December, 2012
Camden Market, London, NW1
"Not the best way to spend the holiday," the Doctor says as he trails along behind a purposefully-striding Rose. "What a shame."
"I volunteered to be on call, I knew this could happen. Besides, it's just saving me from another 3 hours of Tony hopped up on chocolate oranges." She pulls a complicated piece of equipment from the cargo pocket of her trousers. "I'm not detecting any sort of rift energy. Subject must have had some other means of transport."
"Interesting," muses the Doctor. "What about a warp signature?"
"Nothing. It's like it just appeared here."
The Doctor crouches down and inspects the grimy pavement, placing a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles on his nose. "I'm not sure how I feel about this Torchwood practice of referring to aliens as 'it.'"
"It is official Torchwood policy to use gender-neutral pronouns so as not to offend or otherwise incorrectly label said alien species. You know as well as I do that we cannot impose our human sex and gender assumptions on alien life forms."
"Indeed," he says, putting his glasses away again.
14:59, 25 December, 2012
Camden Market, London, NW1
Rose squints and briefly removes her mobile phone from her ear and looks at it, as if whatever has just been said by Torchwood dispatching is actually the fault of the phone.
"Harrod's?" she asks, incredulously. "It's Christmas Day! Yes... right. I see. We'll be there to meet him."
She rings off and looks at the Doctor, who is holding two paper cups of coffee.
"Sorry it's not Nero; everything's closed."
Rose takes a tentative sip. "So, apparently there's been some activity at Harrod's, of all places. We're to meet the security guard at the door in 20 minutes."
"Maybe our friend's got a taste for posh Christmas puddings. Or the little cakes with the lemon curd? I love those. Baked brie? The kind with the jam in? If aliens knew about baked brie, you lot would have no hope of fending off the invasion. I saw foie gras pasties there once. What's foie gras doing in a pasty? Or the pie with the Stilton and cranberries..."
15:25, 25 December, 2012
Knightsbridge, London, SW1
The Doctor puts on a disappointed face. "I notice we seem to be going up rather than down. Do you think that if we do enough derring they'll send us home with a hamper?"
A floor dings off on the lift and Rose smiles at him indulgently. "Here we are, then. Second floor: lingerie."
She points her torch around at the racks and racks of lacy, silky unmentionables. "The guard said he found this," she brandishes an unmistakably alien artefact in her free hand, "laying right over there."
"What would an alien want with ladies' knickers?" the Doctor asks, eyes wide.
She pauses in thought for a moment, then frowns. "Maybe it wants to bother human women."
"Shocking!" says the Doctor.
15:43, 25 December, 2012
Knightsbridge, London, SW1
Rose stands next to the open door of her company car, a black suitcase open on the seat. In her fingers she holds a glass slide, and over her shoulder peers the Doctor.
"What's it say?" he asks, anxiously.
"I haven't even put it in yet." She bends down and feeds the slide into a slot in her field kit, then turns her attention to a laptop sitting open on the floor of the vehicle.
"Analysing..." the Doctor says, reading off the laptop screen. "Analysing... analysing..."
"You're approaching Tony territory," Rose says, nonplussed. "Nice work finding the bio-traces, though. All right, what are you? Animal, vegetable or... what?"
"What what?" The Doctor cranes his neck and looks down at the computer. "Well that's not very helpful."
"What does that even mean, 'chimera'?"
"A chimera is a hybrid of two or more genetically distinct bits of biological material. Could be several different species all mushed up together."
Rose makes a face. "That doesn't sound very appetising. Like a sideshow freak, yeah?"
"I'm sure it's hideous," the Doctor says, a little smile playing around the corners of his mouth, which Rose does not see as she continues to tap away at the keyboard.
16:12, 25 December, 2012
Victoria Embankment, Westminster, London, SW1
A pink-cheeked Rose Tyler stands looking out over the Thames towards the Millennium Pier. She holds her phone up to her ear and shouts to be heard over the wind.
"Are you sure? I said, are you sure? Because I'm standing right here and there's nothing. No, not a thing. And nothing showing up on scanners, either. All right, I'll ask him. I said, I'll ask him."
"Ask him what?" the Doctor chirps, rocking back on his heels.
"Ask him to do a little jig and then turn water into wine," she says, sarcastically. "Ask you to help me scan for this whatever-this-is which is supposedly right here but can't be seen or detected."
"Well, what do we know about it already?" The Doctor holds his hand out and points to his index finger.
"Well, we know there was no rift activity or warp signature, so it got here through some other means."
The Doctor points to his middle finger, nodding. "And what else?"
"And that it's either a cross-dresser or fancies human women in lacy knickers."
The Doctor coughs, which could also be hiding a giggle, and the points to his ring-finger. "What else?"
"It's a chimera, some sort of hybrid creature, and nothing we've got in our database already." She stops and looks out over the river as the London Eye flashes purple and white lights through the gathering fog of dusk.
"Right, so it just appeared here out of nowhere, bothers human women, and is a one-of-a-kind hybrid."
Rose nods, her brow furrowed. "This isn't really helping."
The Doctor shuffles his feet and waggles his eyebrows. "I don't know any creatures like that at all. And certainly none that would want to have a Torchwood agent all to themselves for a couple hours on Christmas day."
"You!" Rose gasps, pointing at him accusingly.
"Me!" he says, grinning. "You'd be surprised what a box of chocolates will accomplish with Torchwood dispatching."
"You've had me out here for two hours chasing after nothing?"
"You can't say that it wasn't a little bit fun." He puts on a very contrite face, which he then spoils with a cheeky wink. "Besides, I didn't want anyone else around when I gave you this. They wouldn't understand."
She takes from him a small box, wrapped in festive paper and tied with a clumsy bow. Her hands tremble, either from cold or anticipation, as she unwraps it and removes the top.
"What is it?" she asks quietly, looking down at a small shiny square resting in a clear plastic case.
"A new chip for your field kit. I programmed it myself, with data on approximately five-hundred million alien life forms not currently in Torchwood's data base. And also some special customizations, which you'll have to discover on your own. Word to the wise, though: don't use it around any live chickens."
Rose replaces the box's lid and slides it carefully into her jacket pocket before being folded up into a great spine-cracking hug. "I love it!" she says, muffled by the Doctor's overcoat. "It must have taken you ages."
"Well, I figure, the faster you can solve your cases, the more time I get to spend with you. It was quite selfish of me, really. That's me all over, isn't it? But all the same, happy Christmas, Rose Tyler."
She stands on her tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek. "Happy Christmas, Doctor."
Characters: Ten II/Rose
Rating: All Ages
Summary: It's Christmas in Pete's World and Rose has to work.
A/N: I wrote this for round 2.12 of writerinatardis. The prompt was this quote from A. A. Milne: "Before beginning a Hunt, it is wise to ask someone what you are looking for before you begin looking for it." And we bid farewell to spikewriter this round. It's been a great time tackling the challenges together, and I'm sorry to see ya go. But I know you could definitely use the free time!
14:24, 25 December, 2012
Camden Market, London, NW1
"Not the best way to spend the holiday," the Doctor says as he trails along behind a purposefully-striding Rose. "What a shame."
"I volunteered to be on call, I knew this could happen. Besides, it's just saving me from another 3 hours of Tony hopped up on chocolate oranges." She pulls a complicated piece of equipment from the cargo pocket of her trousers. "I'm not detecting any sort of rift energy. Subject must have had some other means of transport."
"Interesting," muses the Doctor. "What about a warp signature?"
"Nothing. It's like it just appeared here."
The Doctor crouches down and inspects the grimy pavement, placing a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles on his nose. "I'm not sure how I feel about this Torchwood practice of referring to aliens as 'it.'"
"It is official Torchwood policy to use gender-neutral pronouns so as not to offend or otherwise incorrectly label said alien species. You know as well as I do that we cannot impose our human sex and gender assumptions on alien life forms."
"Indeed," he says, putting his glasses away again.
14:59, 25 December, 2012
Camden Market, London, NW1
Rose squints and briefly removes her mobile phone from her ear and looks at it, as if whatever has just been said by Torchwood dispatching is actually the fault of the phone.
"Harrod's?" she asks, incredulously. "It's Christmas Day! Yes... right. I see. We'll be there to meet him."
She rings off and looks at the Doctor, who is holding two paper cups of coffee.
"Sorry it's not Nero; everything's closed."
Rose takes a tentative sip. "So, apparently there's been some activity at Harrod's, of all places. We're to meet the security guard at the door in 20 minutes."
"Maybe our friend's got a taste for posh Christmas puddings. Or the little cakes with the lemon curd? I love those. Baked brie? The kind with the jam in? If aliens knew about baked brie, you lot would have no hope of fending off the invasion. I saw foie gras pasties there once. What's foie gras doing in a pasty? Or the pie with the Stilton and cranberries..."
15:25, 25 December, 2012
Knightsbridge, London, SW1
The Doctor puts on a disappointed face. "I notice we seem to be going up rather than down. Do you think that if we do enough derring they'll send us home with a hamper?"
A floor dings off on the lift and Rose smiles at him indulgently. "Here we are, then. Second floor: lingerie."
She points her torch around at the racks and racks of lacy, silky unmentionables. "The guard said he found this," she brandishes an unmistakably alien artefact in her free hand, "laying right over there."
"What would an alien want with ladies' knickers?" the Doctor asks, eyes wide.
She pauses in thought for a moment, then frowns. "Maybe it wants to bother human women."
"Shocking!" says the Doctor.
15:43, 25 December, 2012
Knightsbridge, London, SW1
Rose stands next to the open door of her company car, a black suitcase open on the seat. In her fingers she holds a glass slide, and over her shoulder peers the Doctor.
"What's it say?" he asks, anxiously.
"I haven't even put it in yet." She bends down and feeds the slide into a slot in her field kit, then turns her attention to a laptop sitting open on the floor of the vehicle.
"Analysing..." the Doctor says, reading off the laptop screen. "Analysing... analysing..."
"You're approaching Tony territory," Rose says, nonplussed. "Nice work finding the bio-traces, though. All right, what are you? Animal, vegetable or... what?"
"What what?" The Doctor cranes his neck and looks down at the computer. "Well that's not very helpful."
"What does that even mean, 'chimera'?"
"A chimera is a hybrid of two or more genetically distinct bits of biological material. Could be several different species all mushed up together."
Rose makes a face. "That doesn't sound very appetising. Like a sideshow freak, yeah?"
"I'm sure it's hideous," the Doctor says, a little smile playing around the corners of his mouth, which Rose does not see as she continues to tap away at the keyboard.
16:12, 25 December, 2012
Victoria Embankment, Westminster, London, SW1
A pink-cheeked Rose Tyler stands looking out over the Thames towards the Millennium Pier. She holds her phone up to her ear and shouts to be heard over the wind.
"Are you sure? I said, are you sure? Because I'm standing right here and there's nothing. No, not a thing. And nothing showing up on scanners, either. All right, I'll ask him. I said, I'll ask him."
"Ask him what?" the Doctor chirps, rocking back on his heels.
"Ask him to do a little jig and then turn water into wine," she says, sarcastically. "Ask you to help me scan for this whatever-this-is which is supposedly right here but can't be seen or detected."
"Well, what do we know about it already?" The Doctor holds his hand out and points to his index finger.
"Well, we know there was no rift activity or warp signature, so it got here through some other means."
The Doctor points to his middle finger, nodding. "And what else?"
"And that it's either a cross-dresser or fancies human women in lacy knickers."
The Doctor coughs, which could also be hiding a giggle, and the points to his ring-finger. "What else?"
"It's a chimera, some sort of hybrid creature, and nothing we've got in our database already." She stops and looks out over the river as the London Eye flashes purple and white lights through the gathering fog of dusk.
"Right, so it just appeared here out of nowhere, bothers human women, and is a one-of-a-kind hybrid."
Rose nods, her brow furrowed. "This isn't really helping."
The Doctor shuffles his feet and waggles his eyebrows. "I don't know any creatures like that at all. And certainly none that would want to have a Torchwood agent all to themselves for a couple hours on Christmas day."
"You!" Rose gasps, pointing at him accusingly.
"Me!" he says, grinning. "You'd be surprised what a box of chocolates will accomplish with Torchwood dispatching."
"You've had me out here for two hours chasing after nothing?"
"You can't say that it wasn't a little bit fun." He puts on a very contrite face, which he then spoils with a cheeky wink. "Besides, I didn't want anyone else around when I gave you this. They wouldn't understand."
She takes from him a small box, wrapped in festive paper and tied with a clumsy bow. Her hands tremble, either from cold or anticipation, as she unwraps it and removes the top.
"What is it?" she asks quietly, looking down at a small shiny square resting in a clear plastic case.
"A new chip for your field kit. I programmed it myself, with data on approximately five-hundred million alien life forms not currently in Torchwood's data base. And also some special customizations, which you'll have to discover on your own. Word to the wise, though: don't use it around any live chickens."
Rose replaces the box's lid and slides it carefully into her jacket pocket before being folded up into a great spine-cracking hug. "I love it!" she says, muffled by the Doctor's overcoat. "It must have taken you ages."
"Well, I figure, the faster you can solve your cases, the more time I get to spend with you. It was quite selfish of me, really. That's me all over, isn't it? But all the same, happy Christmas, Rose Tyler."
She stands on her tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek. "Happy Christmas, Doctor."