Fill: Challenge #19 (DW)
Feb. 21st, 2022 10:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shivver posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tenminutesadayI haven't been writing much - we took off a few days for what should have been Gallifrey One, but we opted not to go because of the pandemic, so we watched a lot of DW as our own little convention. We watched Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead, Battlefield, Kinda, and Snakedance. We also discussed which is our favorite episode for each Doctor. (Surprisingly, we agree on very few.) Anyway, this is just the start of a story that I've been thinking about for a while. I doubt I'll ever finish it, and you don't even get to find out what's actually happening from this snippet.
“Ah, yes, very good, Sarah. Perfect.” the Doctor intoned as he shut down the time rotor and reached across the console to set the handbrake. A bank of blue lights flickered as he flipped a final lever, and as he leant in close to examine them, a long loop of his scarf fell over them, and he batted it away with an irritable grunt.
His companion glared at him from the corridor, her fists set on the hips of her long gown. “You didn’t even look at me, not once,” she accused his back, which was all she could see of him.
“Of course I did,” he protested, his eyes still glued to the array. “Very fetching. You will be the life of the party.”
Sarah Jane sighed. She had never quite decided if the Doctor’s inattention was charming or infuriating. It was quite possibly both. “A party, then?” she asked. “Is that why you ordered me into this? A formal dinner of some sort?”
The Doctor straightened and finally turned to face her. “Didn’t I say? Of course I did. I said, ‘Sarah, I’m taking you to Ipthos Minor, so go and get changed. It’ll be laid out on your bed.’ I said that not half an hour ago.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “you did say that. However, you never explained what Ipthos Minor is.”
“Ah, yes, very good, Sarah. Perfect.” the Doctor intoned as he shut down the time rotor and reached across the console to set the handbrake. A bank of blue lights flickered as he flipped a final lever, and as he leant in close to examine them, a long loop of his scarf fell over them, and he batted it away with an irritable grunt.
His companion glared at him from the corridor, her fists set on the hips of her long gown. “You didn’t even look at me, not once,” she accused his back, which was all she could see of him.
“Of course I did,” he protested, his eyes still glued to the array. “Very fetching. You will be the life of the party.”
Sarah Jane sighed. She had never quite decided if the Doctor’s inattention was charming or infuriating. It was quite possibly both. “A party, then?” she asked. “Is that why you ordered me into this? A formal dinner of some sort?”
The Doctor straightened and finally turned to face her. “Didn’t I say? Of course I did. I said, ‘Sarah, I’m taking you to Ipthos Minor, so go and get changed. It’ll be laid out on your bed.’ I said that not half an hour ago.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “you did say that. However, you never explained what Ipthos Minor is.”