Playing With Other People's Toys

“Oi!  Spaceman!  Can you hear me?”  Her eyes are closed, and her face and body are as slack as a sleeping child’s, but her voice is confident and very much awake.

Donna’s memories are suppressed…at least, in her conscious mind.  When she sleeps, things become more complicated.  Post-Journey’s-End, spoilers through The End of Time.  G/PG, eventual Shaun/Donna, not exactly a fixfic but not exactly not.  Part 1/4, follow link in title for more.

Day 19 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.

Donna, Noble Donna, do you hear us in your dreams?
Does your heart cry out against a world as empty as it seems?
Oh Donna, Noble Donna, she who came to right our wrong,
We’re still singing in your honor, though you cannot hear our song!

Doctor-Donna came to help us when our spirit had run dry.
Doctor-Donna wept our tears when we’d forgotten how to cry.
Her bright fire burns in legend with the Doctor by her side,
Brilliant, valiant Doctor-Donna whose good heart restored our minds.

Follow link in title for the rest.

I’m not sure that the songs the Ood sing about Donna Noble sound quite like this (they are probably better poets than I), but this was my attempt at duplicating one of them.  Spoilers through 4x13.

Day 17 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.

We say it’s for the thrills and chills,
For handsome faces, stunning eyes,
To see whom this week’s monster kills…
But deep inside we know we lie.

The motive’s simpler than we knew,
More childish than we dared to say:
We hope that box of purest blue
Will land in our backyard someday

Click link in title for more.

The REAL reason we watch Doctor Who, in 28 lines of rhyming iambic tetrameter.  No spoilers, no warnings, no pairings, just love. :D  The slightly belated day 16 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.  BTW, this is officially the halfway point, and I’m still not failing hugely.

He finds that he rather enjoys being a mystical guardian. People don’t normally take Rory Williams very seriously, but the Knights Templar are very superstitious and the antiquity of his Latin is actually a help in intimidating them. He hears them whispering at night (plastic must resonate better than flesh, he notes, and files that fact away for future reference); they aren’t sure whether he’s a saint, or an angel, or a demon, but a man who never eats and never sleeps must be one of the three. They cross themselves when he passes and they take great, great care with the box. He quite enjoys it. He waits.

After about a millennium, the pain goes away. He isn’t guilty or sad or even really lonely. He knows that he wants to see her again, but even the resilience of plastic can only keep up passion for so long. He’s simply waiting now. He knows that he loves her, that he will protect her with everything he is, that he’ll die for her without hesitation if necessary, but that’s not a feeling in his chest, it’s a certainty in his will. It’s enough. He waits.

Rory waited for 1894 years, trying unsuccessfully to stay out of trouble. This is an attempt to fill in some small fraction of the detail.  Rory/Amy, PG/PG-13 for bodily harm and misunderstood intentions.  Follow link in title for more.

Day 15 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project

He always knows that he’ll outlive everyone he loves. Just this once, though, he knows and he doesn’t have to pretend to deny it. He’s seen her die, watched the life leave her body before he ever really met her. And, because he’s seen her death, he can share her life without reservations. He can treasure every moment, and measure out the days with River like sand through an hourglass, every grain precious because he knows exactly how little he has left. No wondering, no doubts, no regrets. “You watch us run,” she told him, and he’s counting every step.

11/River.  Not quite angst, not quite fluff.  G/PG.  Part of my New Year’s fic-a-day project.  Click link in title for more.

One day he’s a geezer who goes on the run

The next he’s a midget who yoyos for fun

Then maybe a dandy with cape and cravat

He’s been all these things but he’s never forgot

To be always the Doctor, the man in the box

With the interesting hair and unusual togs

He’s always been brave and he’s always been clever

And the universe hopes he’ll be like this forever

11 Doctors in 40 lines of rhymed anapestic tetrameter.  Click link in title for more.  Day 10 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.

It’s a funny old thing, regeneration. Normally, when humans ask about it, he tells them that, after all, they become more than one person during their life, too. It’s called growing up, and all well-adjusted species do it. The only difference is that the Time Lords do it a little more abruptly than most, and that their bodies change a little more drastically. And, generally speaking, he believes that. But…he doesn’t want to go.

Angst, rambliness, my take on why 10 didn’t want to regenerate.  10/Rose.  G/PG, spoilers through and including The End of Time.

Day 9 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.  Click link in title for the rest.

“When all was dark and full of fear,
He fell out of a stormy sky.
He saved us all and staunched our tears
And never stopped to say goodbye.”

The Doctor seems to inspire legends on a daily basis.  This is my attempt to reproduce a selection of them.  No spoilers, no particular warnings, a bit angsty in places.

Day 7 of my New Year’s fic-a-day project.  Click link in title for the rest of the poem.

An Eternal Choice

“The child by his side will try to pull him away, wanting him to look at the shinier, newer ships, but I will catch his eye and hold it. Of course I did. I know the moment I sense him that we were, are, will be a space-time event unlike anything the universe has seen, can see, will ever see.”

The Tardis reflects on her Doctor.  Normal verb conjugation gives up and goes home.  G-rated Doctor/Tardis. Follow link in title for the rest.

Fantastic Rose

“I met you in my normal way

I grabbed your hand and told you “run!”

I thought I’d only spend the day

You wanted to know more. You won.”

If the Ninth Doctor were inclined to write poetry (doubtful), this might be what he’d say about Rose Tyler.

Warm and cheerful, G-rated, rhyming, Rose/9 friendship, spoilers through 1x13.  Click link in title for the rest.