Fic: Five Times the Doctor Reduced Things to Science (and One Time He Didn’t) 1/2
Fic: Five Times the Doctor Reduced Things to Science (and One Time He Didn't)
Author: wmr
Rated: PG
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jackie Tyler
Disclaimer: Not mine. You think I'd have done what they did in Last of the Time Lords?
Summary: He hasn't changed much at all, then, has he? Still a bloody killjoy.
Five Times the Doctor Reduced Things to Science (and One Time He Didn’t)
I
It’s the best Christmas ever.
Was almost the worst, of course. Just twenty-four hours ago, she was putting Rose’s present under the tree, not even knowing whether Rose was dead or alive. Fearing the worst, not daring to hope for the best.
Then the TARDIS came back - actually crash-landed - and there was this stranger Rose claimed was the Doctor. Crazy. Scary, freaky alien stuff, she thought. And she was comforted by one thing: there’s no way Rose is going to go off with him again. Not after this. She lost all the trust she had in that bloody alien, and about time too.
Course, that didn’t last. This new Doctor’s just Rose’s type, all boyish and handsome, and it’s obvious he fancies her rotten, just like the last one did.
Still, could be worse. This one’s actually friendly. Hugs her - her, Jackie Tyler! Comes to Christmas dinner. Laughs and makes conversation - and makes eyes at Rose across the table the whole time. Oh, yeah. She’ll be leaving with him. No question about that, damn him anyway.
All the same, it’s turning out to be a pretty good Christmas after all. Rose is home, even if it’s only for a bit. They’re all alive. And she’s even beginning to like the Doctor.
Then Bev calls and tells her to go outside.
It’s snowing. A white Christmas - when’s that last happened?
They’re all standing around, laughing, looking up at the snow and watching it fall at their feet, flakes of white collecting on the grey concrete. Rose is hanging onto the Doctor’s arm, and Mickey’s got hers.
A white Christmas. After all they’ve just been through, afraid for their lives, terrified of the entire planet being taken over by aliens, Rose and Mickey and the Doctor kidnapped by the bloody aliens, everything, what could be nicer?
Rose is grinning as snow falls all around them, pointing up at some bright lights in the sky. “Oh, that's beautiful. What are they, meteors?”
But the Doctor shakes his head. “It's the spaceship breaking up in the atmosphere. This isn't snow, it's ash.”
Right. Just ruin everybody’s pleasure, why don’t you?
He hasn’t changed much at all, then, has he? He’s still a bloody killjoy.
***
II
“Mum? We’re home!”
Rose! She could’ve phoned, couldn’t she? What’s the point of the Doctor mucking about with her phone so she can call from anywhere in time or space, if she never bloody uses it? Some warning would’ve been nice. She could’ve been doing anything - with anyone - and here’s Rose walking in out of the blue.
All the same, she’s home, at least. She can’t really complain about that. Looks like the Doctor meant it when he said he’d bring her back more often.
“Sweetheart!” Pushing her irritation away, she drops the laundry she’s been folding and hurries out. Rose isn’t alone; following closely behind her is the Doctor. Still a shock to see this younger, happier bloke instead of that miserable git in black. But he seems all right. Especially if he’s going to keep his word.
“Did I have to come up with you?” she hears the Doctor mutter to Rose; bloody alien mustn’t have seen her yet. Still rude, then. He just hides it a bit better most of the time.
“Doctor!” Rose exclaims, laughing and swiping at him with her hand, before rushing over for a hug.
“Still got no manners, then?” she says as she hugs Rose.
Later, they’re on the sofa watching TV - well, the Doctor’s mucking about with that screwdriver thingy of his, eating all the chocolate biscuits and pretending he’s not watching, while she and Rose are drinking cheap plonk and laughing at the obvious boob-job on tonight’s Lottery host.
“Didn’t win again.” She sighs and tears her ticket into tiny strips.
“Odds of fourteen million to one... you’d be better off chucking your money off the roof of the estate. At least some of it might blow back in the window.”
Smart-arse. Hasn’t he ever taken a gamble just out of hope that something good might happen?
She glares at him. “You know, you could put that time-machine of yours to good use for once if you wanted, Doctor, if you really cared about me wasting my money. Be nice if you went an’ got me next week’s numbers!”
He doesn’t bother answering her. She intercepts the look he gives Rose, though, and wants to smack him. Again.
“We can’t do that, Mum,” Rose says - oh, he’s really got her like a well-trained little monkey, hasn’t he? “It wouldn’t be right. We can’t use the TARDIS just to make money.”
“Don’t see why not,” she mutters. “What harm would it do? Anyway, I’ve seen you use stuff from the future lots of times. Same thing, isn’t it?”
“It’s cheating,” he says dismissively, not even glancing up from whatever it is he’s doing now.
And the Doctor never cheats. Right. She just bets he’d do it if Rose was the one asking.
The theme music of one of her favourite programmes drags her attention back to the telly. Good. Not even the Doctor can spoil Barry LePage. Brilliant, he is. Telepathic - it’s incredible what he can do.
Now, there’s a really clever bloke. The Doctor could take a few lessons from him. Barry knows lots of stuff, but you never catch him being bloody patronising about it.
“Amazing, isn’t he?” she says to Rose after one particularly impressive encounter. After only a short conversation, Barry’s relating the woman’s life history, and getting it exactly right. “It’s just spooky. Like magic.”
“Nah.” Oh, there he goes again, the annoying alien git. “Nothing magic about that at all. He’s just using psychology and observation. He’s getting them all to tell him things about themselves, then using that to make educated guesses. That and a bit of clever showmanship.”
“Oh, you would say that. You don’t even believe in telepathy, right?”
“Telepathy? Course I do. Oh, telepathy exists, all right. I’m telepathic. So’s the TARDIS.”
He is? She actually feels herself flinching. He bloody better not try to read her mind! Course, that probably explains why Rose fell under his spell so quickly. Oh, yeah. That explains a lot.
Motormouth in the corner’s still talking. “You humans... nah. Well, maybe one or two of you’ve got just a teeny, tiny fragment of telepathic ability, but even then you don’t know what to do with it. This bloke?” He waves his hand at the TV again. “Nah. Watch him. See? He’s been studying her before he called her up. He’s taken her hand - see that? He’s felt her ring finger. Now he’s going to tell her she’s divorced.”
And, on the TV screen, Barry LePage does just that. Okay, he doesn’t come right out with it the way the Doctor just did, but that’s what he says.
Pointedly, she turns so that her back’s to the Doctor, and shuts him out as she concentrates on the programme again. Now, Barry’s asking another member of the audience to think of a number between one and ten, then triple it, add six and triple it again. Then there’s something about adding the two digits of the number together and again until there’s only one number -
“Nine,” the Doctor pronounces, and it almost sounds like a yawn.
“Nine,” Barry announces, and the audience-member agrees.
“It’s simple! Child’s play!” the Doctor almost shouts, shaking his head. “They really get away with this on television? The principle’s too simple for words. No mind-reading about it at all. The digits of any multiple of nine must add to nine, and that’s all he was doing. It’s just modular arithmetic. Don’t they teach that in schools on this planet?”
She reaches for the remote and clicks a button. The TV flickers into darkness.
“Didn’t you want to watch it any more, Mum?”
She glares at the cocky alien now busy fiddling with her stereo. “Nah. ‘s just boring when you know how it’s done.”
***
III
“Jackie! Hold on a minute!”
That voice is familiar. She glances around. Oh, yeah. It’s him, trench-coat swishing around his ankles as he walks, hair ruffled by the breeze - or, knowing him, he probably just didn’t comb it today. As usual.
And he’s alone. “Where’s Rose?”
Oh, god. He’s got a look on his face, doesn’t he? “What’s happened to her? What’ve you done to her?”
He blinks and his eyes widen as he catches up with her. “Nothing! What do you - oh! Oh. No, no, no! No, she’s fine.”
But she’s still staring at him, then looking around. Where is Rose? She’d never let him out of her sight usually... “Where is she?”
“Jackie.” He’s holding her by the arms suddenly, those intense brown eyes completely focused on her. “Listen to me. Rose is fine. She’s gone to Superdrug.” He shakes his head slightly. “Shopping for female stuff. Wouldn’t let me come with her. No idea why. You’d think I’d embarrass her or something.”
Oh, yeah. She can just imagine. He’d probably start dissecting the tampons and criticising what they’re made of.
Though... bloody hell, Rose better not be buying condoms. On the other hand, better that than alien babies, if those two are doing it. Which they must be, the way Rose looks at him...
No, she is not thinking about that. Even if the bloke is way too good-looking for his own good. Or Rose’s.
She steps back, and he lets her go. “What did you want, anyway? You were calling me.”
“Oh!” He scratches his head, looking puzzled. “I was, wasn’t I?”
Honestly, sometimes he might as well still be on whatever planet he comes from - well, if it still existed. His head’s certainly not on this one. How the hell he manages to keep himself alive, let alone Rose, she’s got no idea.
“Right! Yes!” he exclaims. “I remember!”
She rolls her eyes. This is the great genius at work? No wonder his race didn’t survive. “What, then?”
He holds out his hand. “Phone.”
“You what?”
He sighs. Git. “Give me your phone!”
With a huff, she hands it over. The next second, he’s taking it apart. “Oi! That was expensive, that was!”
“I’m not breaking it, Jackie.” He sighs, but doesn’t look up at her. “Rose said your last phone bill was astronomical because you called her mobile when we were on Malabetan Four. This’ll fix it.” He hands back her phone. “There. Call Rose’s phone any time you like, no charge.”
Her jaw feels as if it’s several inches lower than normal. “I... um... thank you.”
He gives her that wide, charming smile of his that always rubs it in that Rose is never going to leave him voluntarily. “My pleasure, Jackie.”
There’s a few seconds’ silence, and it’s starting to feel awkward. “Um... well, why don’t you come up to the flat an’ have a cuppa while you wait for Rose?”
He’ll refuse. She knows it. He’s never come to the flat on his own; only ever with Rose, and it’s usually easy to see that it’s under protest.
But he smiles again, tilting his head. “That’d be nice. Good cuppa tea. I did tell you your tea saved the world, didn’t I?”
Oh, he did. Lots of times. Still nice to hear it, though. She turns to walk up to the flat. “Nice to know my tea’s really that good. ‘S not like you to pay me a compliment if you can help it, Doctor.”
“Oh, now, Jackie, that’s not fair. I pay you compliments!”
“No, you don’t,” she mutters.
“The tea, though... well, to be fair, any old cuppa would’ve done the trick. Just happened to be yours, that’s all.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Pay me a compliment an’ then take it back in the next breath! Should’ve known, knowing you.”
“No, really!” Cheeky git. He actually sounds indignant. “Did you know that tea’s got all sorts of useful properties? Apart from all the caffeine, anti-oxidants, polyphenols, hexanol, phenyl ethanol, benzyl alcohol, three-galloyl epigallocatchin and inorganic salts, it’s got alkylamine - okay, mostly in the form of its precursor chemical L-theanine, but still does the trick. Most of all, though, the infusion of all those free radicals and tannin - marvellous stuff. Worked wonders on my synapses. Could’ve been the worst tea in the world - as long as it had all those chemicals, it’d do the trick. All I had to do was inhale -”
“What?” She stops dead and stares at him. “You didn’t even drink it?”
“No, didn’t I tell you?”
“No, you bloody well didn’t!” And there she was all this time imagining that her tea tasted so damn good it rejuvenated the last Time Lord from a coma. “An’ I wish you hadn’t now.”
“Aw, come on, Jackie.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders. “All I said was -”
She pulls away and folds her arms. “I’m sure Rose won’t be much longer. Tell ‘er I expect her to come up an’ see me before you two leave.”
He looks completely confused as he protests, “But what about that tea you promised me?”
“Make it yourself, since you know so much about it. Then you can have all the free radicals you want!”
***
continued in part 2, since LJ insists this is too large for one post.
Author: wmr
Rated: PG
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jackie Tyler
Disclaimer: Not mine. You think I'd have done what they did in Last of the Time Lords?
Summary: He hasn't changed much at all, then, has he? Still a bloody killjoy.
Five Times the Doctor Reduced Things to Science (and One Time He Didn’t)
I
It’s the best Christmas ever.
Was almost the worst, of course. Just twenty-four hours ago, she was putting Rose’s present under the tree, not even knowing whether Rose was dead or alive. Fearing the worst, not daring to hope for the best.
Then the TARDIS came back - actually crash-landed - and there was this stranger Rose claimed was the Doctor. Crazy. Scary, freaky alien stuff, she thought. And she was comforted by one thing: there’s no way Rose is going to go off with him again. Not after this. She lost all the trust she had in that bloody alien, and about time too.
Course, that didn’t last. This new Doctor’s just Rose’s type, all boyish and handsome, and it’s obvious he fancies her rotten, just like the last one did.
Still, could be worse. This one’s actually friendly. Hugs her - her, Jackie Tyler! Comes to Christmas dinner. Laughs and makes conversation - and makes eyes at Rose across the table the whole time. Oh, yeah. She’ll be leaving with him. No question about that, damn him anyway.
All the same, it’s turning out to be a pretty good Christmas after all. Rose is home, even if it’s only for a bit. They’re all alive. And she’s even beginning to like the Doctor.
Then Bev calls and tells her to go outside.
It’s snowing. A white Christmas - when’s that last happened?
They’re all standing around, laughing, looking up at the snow and watching it fall at their feet, flakes of white collecting on the grey concrete. Rose is hanging onto the Doctor’s arm, and Mickey’s got hers.
A white Christmas. After all they’ve just been through, afraid for their lives, terrified of the entire planet being taken over by aliens, Rose and Mickey and the Doctor kidnapped by the bloody aliens, everything, what could be nicer?
Rose is grinning as snow falls all around them, pointing up at some bright lights in the sky. “Oh, that's beautiful. What are they, meteors?”
But the Doctor shakes his head. “It's the spaceship breaking up in the atmosphere. This isn't snow, it's ash.”
Right. Just ruin everybody’s pleasure, why don’t you?
He hasn’t changed much at all, then, has he? He’s still a bloody killjoy.
***
II
“Mum? We’re home!”
Rose! She could’ve phoned, couldn’t she? What’s the point of the Doctor mucking about with her phone so she can call from anywhere in time or space, if she never bloody uses it? Some warning would’ve been nice. She could’ve been doing anything - with anyone - and here’s Rose walking in out of the blue.
All the same, she’s home, at least. She can’t really complain about that. Looks like the Doctor meant it when he said he’d bring her back more often.
“Sweetheart!” Pushing her irritation away, she drops the laundry she’s been folding and hurries out. Rose isn’t alone; following closely behind her is the Doctor. Still a shock to see this younger, happier bloke instead of that miserable git in black. But he seems all right. Especially if he’s going to keep his word.
“Did I have to come up with you?” she hears the Doctor mutter to Rose; bloody alien mustn’t have seen her yet. Still rude, then. He just hides it a bit better most of the time.
“Doctor!” Rose exclaims, laughing and swiping at him with her hand, before rushing over for a hug.
“Still got no manners, then?” she says as she hugs Rose.
Later, they’re on the sofa watching TV - well, the Doctor’s mucking about with that screwdriver thingy of his, eating all the chocolate biscuits and pretending he’s not watching, while she and Rose are drinking cheap plonk and laughing at the obvious boob-job on tonight’s Lottery host.
“Didn’t win again.” She sighs and tears her ticket into tiny strips.
“Odds of fourteen million to one... you’d be better off chucking your money off the roof of the estate. At least some of it might blow back in the window.”
Smart-arse. Hasn’t he ever taken a gamble just out of hope that something good might happen?
She glares at him. “You know, you could put that time-machine of yours to good use for once if you wanted, Doctor, if you really cared about me wasting my money. Be nice if you went an’ got me next week’s numbers!”
He doesn’t bother answering her. She intercepts the look he gives Rose, though, and wants to smack him. Again.
“We can’t do that, Mum,” Rose says - oh, he’s really got her like a well-trained little monkey, hasn’t he? “It wouldn’t be right. We can’t use the TARDIS just to make money.”
“Don’t see why not,” she mutters. “What harm would it do? Anyway, I’ve seen you use stuff from the future lots of times. Same thing, isn’t it?”
“It’s cheating,” he says dismissively, not even glancing up from whatever it is he’s doing now.
And the Doctor never cheats. Right. She just bets he’d do it if Rose was the one asking.
The theme music of one of her favourite programmes drags her attention back to the telly. Good. Not even the Doctor can spoil Barry LePage. Brilliant, he is. Telepathic - it’s incredible what he can do.
Now, there’s a really clever bloke. The Doctor could take a few lessons from him. Barry knows lots of stuff, but you never catch him being bloody patronising about it.
“Amazing, isn’t he?” she says to Rose after one particularly impressive encounter. After only a short conversation, Barry’s relating the woman’s life history, and getting it exactly right. “It’s just spooky. Like magic.”
“Nah.” Oh, there he goes again, the annoying alien git. “Nothing magic about that at all. He’s just using psychology and observation. He’s getting them all to tell him things about themselves, then using that to make educated guesses. That and a bit of clever showmanship.”
“Oh, you would say that. You don’t even believe in telepathy, right?”
“Telepathy? Course I do. Oh, telepathy exists, all right. I’m telepathic. So’s the TARDIS.”
He is? She actually feels herself flinching. He bloody better not try to read her mind! Course, that probably explains why Rose fell under his spell so quickly. Oh, yeah. That explains a lot.
Motormouth in the corner’s still talking. “You humans... nah. Well, maybe one or two of you’ve got just a teeny, tiny fragment of telepathic ability, but even then you don’t know what to do with it. This bloke?” He waves his hand at the TV again. “Nah. Watch him. See? He’s been studying her before he called her up. He’s taken her hand - see that? He’s felt her ring finger. Now he’s going to tell her she’s divorced.”
And, on the TV screen, Barry LePage does just that. Okay, he doesn’t come right out with it the way the Doctor just did, but that’s what he says.
Pointedly, she turns so that her back’s to the Doctor, and shuts him out as she concentrates on the programme again. Now, Barry’s asking another member of the audience to think of a number between one and ten, then triple it, add six and triple it again. Then there’s something about adding the two digits of the number together and again until there’s only one number -
“Nine,” the Doctor pronounces, and it almost sounds like a yawn.
“Nine,” Barry announces, and the audience-member agrees.
“It’s simple! Child’s play!” the Doctor almost shouts, shaking his head. “They really get away with this on television? The principle’s too simple for words. No mind-reading about it at all. The digits of any multiple of nine must add to nine, and that’s all he was doing. It’s just modular arithmetic. Don’t they teach that in schools on this planet?”
She reaches for the remote and clicks a button. The TV flickers into darkness.
“Didn’t you want to watch it any more, Mum?”
She glares at the cocky alien now busy fiddling with her stereo. “Nah. ‘s just boring when you know how it’s done.”
***
III
“Jackie! Hold on a minute!”
That voice is familiar. She glances around. Oh, yeah. It’s him, trench-coat swishing around his ankles as he walks, hair ruffled by the breeze - or, knowing him, he probably just didn’t comb it today. As usual.
And he’s alone. “Where’s Rose?”
Oh, god. He’s got a look on his face, doesn’t he? “What’s happened to her? What’ve you done to her?”
He blinks and his eyes widen as he catches up with her. “Nothing! What do you - oh! Oh. No, no, no! No, she’s fine.”
But she’s still staring at him, then looking around. Where is Rose? She’d never let him out of her sight usually... “Where is she?”
“Jackie.” He’s holding her by the arms suddenly, those intense brown eyes completely focused on her. “Listen to me. Rose is fine. She’s gone to Superdrug.” He shakes his head slightly. “Shopping for female stuff. Wouldn’t let me come with her. No idea why. You’d think I’d embarrass her or something.”
Oh, yeah. She can just imagine. He’d probably start dissecting the tampons and criticising what they’re made of.
Though... bloody hell, Rose better not be buying condoms. On the other hand, better that than alien babies, if those two are doing it. Which they must be, the way Rose looks at him...
No, she is not thinking about that. Even if the bloke is way too good-looking for his own good. Or Rose’s.
She steps back, and he lets her go. “What did you want, anyway? You were calling me.”
“Oh!” He scratches his head, looking puzzled. “I was, wasn’t I?”
Honestly, sometimes he might as well still be on whatever planet he comes from - well, if it still existed. His head’s certainly not on this one. How the hell he manages to keep himself alive, let alone Rose, she’s got no idea.
“Right! Yes!” he exclaims. “I remember!”
She rolls her eyes. This is the great genius at work? No wonder his race didn’t survive. “What, then?”
He holds out his hand. “Phone.”
“You what?”
He sighs. Git. “Give me your phone!”
With a huff, she hands it over. The next second, he’s taking it apart. “Oi! That was expensive, that was!”
“I’m not breaking it, Jackie.” He sighs, but doesn’t look up at her. “Rose said your last phone bill was astronomical because you called her mobile when we were on Malabetan Four. This’ll fix it.” He hands back her phone. “There. Call Rose’s phone any time you like, no charge.”
Her jaw feels as if it’s several inches lower than normal. “I... um... thank you.”
He gives her that wide, charming smile of his that always rubs it in that Rose is never going to leave him voluntarily. “My pleasure, Jackie.”
There’s a few seconds’ silence, and it’s starting to feel awkward. “Um... well, why don’t you come up to the flat an’ have a cuppa while you wait for Rose?”
He’ll refuse. She knows it. He’s never come to the flat on his own; only ever with Rose, and it’s usually easy to see that it’s under protest.
But he smiles again, tilting his head. “That’d be nice. Good cuppa tea. I did tell you your tea saved the world, didn’t I?”
Oh, he did. Lots of times. Still nice to hear it, though. She turns to walk up to the flat. “Nice to know my tea’s really that good. ‘S not like you to pay me a compliment if you can help it, Doctor.”
“Oh, now, Jackie, that’s not fair. I pay you compliments!”
“No, you don’t,” she mutters.
“The tea, though... well, to be fair, any old cuppa would’ve done the trick. Just happened to be yours, that’s all.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Pay me a compliment an’ then take it back in the next breath! Should’ve known, knowing you.”
“No, really!” Cheeky git. He actually sounds indignant. “Did you know that tea’s got all sorts of useful properties? Apart from all the caffeine, anti-oxidants, polyphenols, hexanol, phenyl ethanol, benzyl alcohol, three-galloyl epigallocatchin and inorganic salts, it’s got alkylamine - okay, mostly in the form of its precursor chemical L-theanine, but still does the trick. Most of all, though, the infusion of all those free radicals and tannin - marvellous stuff. Worked wonders on my synapses. Could’ve been the worst tea in the world - as long as it had all those chemicals, it’d do the trick. All I had to do was inhale -”
“What?” She stops dead and stares at him. “You didn’t even drink it?”
“No, didn’t I tell you?”
“No, you bloody well didn’t!” And there she was all this time imagining that her tea tasted so damn good it rejuvenated the last Time Lord from a coma. “An’ I wish you hadn’t now.”
“Aw, come on, Jackie.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders. “All I said was -”
She pulls away and folds her arms. “I’m sure Rose won’t be much longer. Tell ‘er I expect her to come up an’ see me before you two leave.”
He looks completely confused as he protests, “But what about that tea you promised me?”
“Make it yourself, since you know so much about it. Then you can have all the free radicals you want!”
***
continued in part 2, since LJ insists this is too large for one post.