john_amend_all (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
john_amend_all) wrote2015-05-08 07:07 pm
john_amend_all) wrote2015-05-08 07:07 pm
Pairing-and-prompt meme II
Memed from thisbluespirit:
thisbluespirit:
Give me a number and a pairing & I'll write a drabble or ficlet!
- glad you came
- team
- don't lie
- i'm coming home
- story of my life
- falling down
- clarity
- counting stars
- wake me up
- safe and sound
- lose yourself
- in the sun
- the monster
- burn
- sweet nothing
- i'm with you
- we believe
- thanks for the memories
- anything could happen
- little talks
- the pretender
- by the way
- sanctuary
- paradise
- where is my mind
no subject
#25 Adam Adamant/Georgie Jones
#13 Four/Romana
Adam / Georgie, where is my mind, 730 words
Katie had been tidying the chairs in the hotel lounge when she heard the ping of the reception bell. Letting go of the chair she'd just picked up, she hurried out to the lobby. It wasn't common for guests to arrive at this late hour, but it certainly wasn't unheard-of.
She found two visitors standing at the desk: a tall, handsome man in antiquated clothes, and a young blonde wearing trousers and a striped top. They didn't appear to have any luggage; Katie mentally put them down as unexpectedly stranded travellers.
"Can I help?" she asked.
The two glanced at each other, as if they weren't sure who was best placed to answer her question. Then the man said "Have you got any free rooms for tonight?"
Katie nodded. "We're quite full, but we've got a cancellation on Room 12. That's a double," she added, glancing between the two and wondering what their relationship might be. Neither was wearing a ring, but they didn't have the furtive attitude of so many adulterous couples she'd seen. Was this an elopement, perhaps?
"If that is all you have, we shall be obliged to take it," the woman said. For all her casual attire, her movements and speech were thoroughly aristocratic.
"OK." Elopement definitely seemed like it might be the explanation. A wayward daughter of aristocracy, running away with... a stage magician? Katie forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. "There's a five pound deposit, so if I can take that now?"
"No problem." The man patted his pockets. "Hang on a mo..."
"Left waistcoat pocket," the woman said.
"Got it." The man finally managed to locate his wallet. "Here you go."
"And we require to be called at six in the morning," the woman said, as Katie jotted down the details of the transaction.
The man's expression verged on a pout. "Rats. I was hoping for a nice lazy breakfast in bed."
"Mi—" The woman caught herself. "George. You know how important it is that we reach Worthy Ducis tomorrow in time to intercept Professor Ellaston and relieve him of his fiendish invention."
"And get swapped back, I know." The man smiled wickedly. "If I still feel like it by then. It's rather fab being the one in charge for once."
Katie, who had been almost certain that they were married after all, abandoned that theory in favour of one that the man was the girl's butler. As she weighed the competing explanations of a clandestine affair, a sinister case of blackmail, or a jewel heist, she realised she hadn't quite finished checking them in.
She cleared her throat. "Just need you to sign the register and then it's all sorted."
The two signed — both with a sort of careful clumsiness which led Katie to suspect they weren't using their real names. "George Jones" and "Eve Jones". Well, she'd seen less convincing aliases.
"Could you direct us to our room?" the woman — "Eve" — asked.
"Of course. This way." Katie put the register in its drawer, and led them in the direction of the main staircase. "I'll make sure you're called at six. Did you have any luggage?"
"Sadly not," the woman said. "Our plans have undergone a most awkward modification."
"Well, I think it's fun," the man said. "Bet I know what you're thinking right now."
The woman grimaced. "The Professor has a great deal to answer for."
"And I bet he'll have a lot more to answer for tomorrow, won't he?"
Katie stopped before the door of Room 12, unlocked it, and held out the key. Both guests reached for it, then tried to let the other have it, before eventually the man took it from her.
"Thank you, miss," the woman said. She was still trying to maintain her composure, but looked as if she was about to succumb to a fit of the giggles at any moment. "I don't think we shall require any further assistance tonight."
Katie, abandoning all hope of working out what the relationship between these two was, took her leave. As she walked away down the corridor, she heard the man begin "This is going to be the weirdest night I ever—" before the door closed behind them.
You definitely saw some funny people in this business, Katie mused, as she returned to the lounge to resume her interrupted tidying.
Re: Adam / Georgie, where is my mind, 730 words
Re: Adam / Georgie, where is my mind, 730 words
Re: Adam / Georgie, where is my mind, 730 words
Four/Romana, the monster, 682 words
The hour was sufficiently late that any reasonable person — in particular, the people living in this mansion — ought to be asleep in bed. Time Lords, of course, had different ideas about reasonableness.
"You think it'll attack tonight?" Romana asked. She had changed into the nightdress her hosts had provided, and was sitting up in the double bed, but showed no signs of composing herself for sleep.
"If it's got any sense it will." The Doctor was sitting in a chair on the far side of the room, concealed from view by an elaborately-decorated screen. "And it ought to follow the scent trail to this room."
"Fair enough." Romana gripped the sonic screwdriver in her hand. "We'd better turn the light off, hadn't we? Let it think we're asleep."
She reached out to the bakelite bulb that dangled by its wire from the ceiling, and pushed the button on it. Darkness fell, and silence, broken only by the sound of regular breathing.
"Don't do that," Romana said, presently.
"Don't do what?" the Doctor said.
"Knit. I know you're doing it — I can hear the needles. Why are you knitting, anyway?"
"You never know when a spare scarf might come in handy."
"Well, it's distracting me."
"I thought you wanted to be sure you didn't doze off." Nevertheless, the Doctor meekly wrapped up his incipient scarf, needles and wool, and pushed them into a pocket of his coat.
It was five minutes later that Romana said "Are you reading a book?"
"Of course I'm reading a book."
"Braille, I suppose."
"Yes. How did you know? I made sure I wasn't making a noise turning the pages."
Romana sighed. "You were arguing with the author. Is it that new one by Oolon Colluphid? You always argue when you read his books. That's when you don't just throw them across the room."
"Well, he deserves it." The Doctor had long since abandoned any attempt to keep his voice down, and was talking as if in a normal conversation. "The man's a transparent nitwit and his books only sell because other idiots try to get them banned."
"Shhhh!" Romana hissed. "You'll wake everyone up."
"All right, all right."
Romana had no sooner closed her eyes again than the book hit the wall just above her head, with sufficient force that she was surprised it didn't bring the wall down.
"What was it this time?" she asked patiently.
"He just presented his proof that the Osirans never existed," the Doctor replied. "I've never read such nonsense in my lives."
"I thought you said you'd met an Osiran."
"Exactly. But Osirans don't fit into whatever theory he's pushing today, so they've got to be disproved." The Doctor jumped to his feet. "I've a good mind to write him a strongly-worded letter."
"But perhaps now isn't the best time to do that?" Romana said patiently.
"Possibly not." The Doctor sat down again. "As you were, then."
All too soon, Romana found her attempts to settle down and at least feign slumber were once more frustrated — this time, by a regular whizzing noise. She reached for the light switch, and snapped it on, to reveal, just as she'd expected, the Doctor's yoyo zipping through the air and returning to his hand. Without a word, she gathered up her bedding, and made her way to the door.
"Are you going somewhere?" the Doctor asked.
"Yes," Romana said, trying to keep her voice lighthearted. "I'm going to wait in the corridor."
"Is there something wrong with the bed?" The Doctor leaned forward with concern. "Has your hot-water bottle sprung a leak?"
"No, it hasn't, because I don't have a hot-water bottle." Romana opened the door. "If anything tries to eat me I'll let you know."
"You're taking a big risk." The Doctor shook his head sententiously. "Why not just wait here with me?"
Romana had been about to close the door behind her, but she turned back. "Because whatever's out there, being eaten by it can't be half as bad for my patience as spending the night with you."
Re: Four/Romana, the monster, 682 words
Re: Four/Romana, the monster, 682 words