Secret Santa for Sigrith!

[LeapYearKisses]

Soooo.... There's a bit of a story behind this setup. Originally, I was writing you a normal fic for the Eleventh Doctor, but for some reason it wasn't going anywhere fast enough to make the deadline, so, rather than bluster and have nothing for you, I wrote you a series of drabbles instead. I hope this is okay! (The fic is all planned out, so if I manage to finish it, I will post that for you also at a later date.)

The first three drabble are about Eleven, the fourth is an original work that's semi based off of Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (I saw it for the first time recently... Heh. ), and the fifth is an original idea that came to me out of nowehere. I liked it, so I ran with it, hence it's not my usual 200-word drabble type thing.

This is my first time writing for DW, so I hope it works. You gave me excellent motivation to start watching the sixth season, finally. XD

---

Overload

Sparks flew from the control panel, falling in a fiery arc to the floor of the TARDIS as Amy dashed into the room. Rory, who was helplessly batting at various levers, turned to her, desperate.

“Where’s the Doctor?!” he called, yanking his hand back from a dial that had grown painfully hot. “I have no idea what I’m doing!”

“He’s still inside,” said Amy, grabbing onto the stair railing as the TARDIS shook. “But he told me to punch the west chroniker three degrees right!” She stumbled up beside him and reached for a green switch nestled under a staticky screen, cranking it until it clicked. The TARDIS rumbled and another volley of sparks exploded forth. “I really hope that works…”

“He wasn’t sure?!” Rory’s eyes were huge. Amy would have laughed any other time.

“I’m not sure if I heard him right!” she admitted, scrambling to keep her balance. “He sort of… sneezed in the middle.”

Suddenly, the TARDIS rocked violently, tossing them both to the floor with a cry. Amy clung to Rory’s hand. Then the room fell eerily still.

“The Doctor sneezed.” said Rory. “He sneezes?”

“’Course,” said Amy, blinking. “I think the work gets to him.”

Down

It was a long way down to the waterway below the city. The ladder had rusted away, so they had to make do with a cable leant by Sierra and her Ood companion. This didn’t dampen the Doctor’s enthusiasm, however; soon he was reeling himself into the depths on his pulley harness, chattering on about the glowing moss all the way.

Amy was still ten feet over the water when she saw the Doctor slip from his perch on the side of the tunnel and into the icy flow. She hurriedly reeled herself lower, hoping that it wasn’t too deep. She could still see the look on his face as he slipped down below the surface.

---

“If I rub,” said the Doctor, “it does nothing.” He narrowed his eyes. “Hh… Heh…”

“Don’t rub, blow,” commanded Amy, handing him a handkerchief and scrutinizing the pale circle that represented the world above. They’d been unable to climb after the Doctor’s fall and had been camped in the tunnel since.

“Not sure that –hh– will do –hahh– anything either… Hehksstch!” He brought the cloth to his face and experimentally dabbed. “Nice hankie. TARDIS blue. I like it.”

Amy sighed. “We have to get your fever down.”

Familiarity

“Hello, Sweetie.”

Standing at the foot of the stairs was River Song, smiling serenely up at them as if she had been waiting. She probably had. Amy exchanged a look with Rory. The Doctor took in a furious breath and then sneezed.

“Bless you. You haven’t realized it yet, I suppose. Have we done John the fish yet?”

“Rh- realized…hh..what, exactly?” asked the Doctor, frowning. “I’m- heh- not in th-the mood for your games, Rih-River... Heh-kttsch!”

“Bless.” She patted him on the arm as she headed up past them to peer down the corridor. Distantly, there came the sound of footsteps, then yelling. “We should go. I’ll head them off here, you go left, then left again, then right. That will get you out.”

“Did you do somethih- heh- something again?” The Doctor whipped out a crumpled pink handkerchief and buried his face in it. “Heh-kmmpf!”

“Now why would you think that?” Her grin was blinding. “Besides, you got yourself into this mess well enough without my help.” She took out a smoke bomb as the footsteps drew nearer.

He sniffed. “It’s the sneezing. I can’t even… hh… think straight.”

River laughed. “It’s your fez. You’re allergic to the felt.”

Border

The sand had almost come to an end when Devyn’s bird abruptly halted, digging its talons into the desert and refusing to go further despite his tug on the reins.

“It’s all right, Tokkl,” he soothed, running his hand through the stiff feathers at the bird’s neck. “It’s just a forest. Nothing scary.” Of course, it wasn’t just a forest or he wouldn’t have been sent; obviously, his mount could also feel how eerie the silent trees were. A cool breeze started up, but the leaves didn’t so much as rustle. Devyn sniffed.

“Hahh… It’s happening again.” He rubbed his sharp nose and pulled a journal from his pack, giving Tokkl allowance to shift and back up nervously. “Thih- This should be evidence… hh… enough of spores, sh-shouldn’t ihh- it?” But he knew his job, and so dismounted, patting Tokkl’s side. “Sih- stay here. I’ll call. Hahh...”

Getting closer to the strange trees only intensified the characteristic itch that always overtook him near the spores, and he could barely draw the vegetation for the watering in his eyes. By the time he finished, his face was streaming.

“Time to… hh… go,” he murmured, and rose to whistle for Tokkl, but he couldn’t get enough air between the sneezes.

Transaction

The shop was dusty and dry like its owner, who sat behind the counter like a particularly belligerent toad. He was a Lower Entity and looked it, with large, bulging eyes and a neck too skinny for his head. Erik’s lip curled, but he suppressed his distaste and entered quickly, lest anyone see him.

“You’re here for your usual, I suppose,” gurgled the toad, tapping his nails against the wooden counter. He rummaged underneath with the other hand, eventually placing a small red bottle on top. Erik smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and tossed a few coins his way. He snatched the bottle from the shopkeeper’s wrinkled claws and hurried for the door.

“Quite an addiction you have,” laughed the toad at his back, for he would never say it to his face.

---

There was a certain… titillation that was born from secrecy, from the knowledge that, should anyone catch him, he would be arrested, not safe in the privacy of his own, sumptuous home. Despite the danger, Erik had been doing this for years. The toad was correct- it was a strange hobby, and getting more difficult to pursue every month, but none of that mattered. The experience was simply worth it.

The bottle was lying beside him on the coverlet, and he unscrewed it with a careful, almost reverent movement. The effect was almost immediate – already, he could feel the exquisite itch deep within, that irritating, satisfying urge. He took a deep breath through his nose, reveling at the tenfold increase in distress. The exhale caught in his throat and he panted shortly, hand rising of its own accord.

It was an exciting pain, the perfect agony, to sit primly on his bed, listening to his own desperate sighs, feeling his body tense and coil, waiting for minutes as old instincts took over until…

“Ehkissh!”

It was dry against his palm. The first one always was. Still, he shivered in pleasure and licked his lips, allowing himself a subtle sniff.

Ever since the outlawing of the common cold, it had been terrible trying to keep his habits. At first, he had tried to give it up. That was the decent thing to do, was it not? But time and again he was drawn back to the game, drawn back into the thrill. How could he have not? It was a part of him that he loved like all the others. And if it was to be seen as deviant, so be it. He would go easily to his execution sneezing his fool head off.

---

Sooo... They're a bit silly, but I hope you like them!

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Oooh. I Love them. Very much. Thank you lots and lots. Your DW and Nausicaa-characters are really spot on. Love Rory's disbelievingness when Amy tells him the Doctor actually sneezes. Have you seen/heard them in season 6 yet? I was so very much squeeing when it happened within the first seconds of the season.

“It’s your fez. You’re allergic to the felt.”

Oh I can just picture him in that situation, being all pouty because the fez makes him sneeze.

You know, when I watched Nausicaa, there was definitely the thought in my head that it would be really nice if the spores had that particular effect on some people.

The shop was dusty and dry like its owner, who sat behind the counter like a particularly belligerent toad.

Lovely line.

.... I will have to go and re-read now. Thank you so much again.

[LeapYearKisses]

You're so welcome! And yes, I was so happy when the Docotr sneezed. I wasn't expecting it, and it made my day!