Title: Matter of Opinion
Author: tromana
Rating: K+
Characters: Fourth Doctor/Romana II
Spoilers: None
Summary: A trip to springtime York. Romana has a creative task and the Doctor has a run in with some not-so-local locals. (Seasons 1/4)
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Good thing for you really.
Notes: 'Seasons' is my first attempt at an overriding arc over more than one story. Wish me luck!
Matter of Opinion
The Shambles, York, is not designed for vehicles. It is also quite a hindrance for pushchairs and robotic dogs. The sun was braving an appearance through the thin gap, gently illuminating the street. The pace was excruciatingly slow, amongst the hustle and bustle of this partially fourteenth-century street.
"Oh do come on-" The Doctor cut himself off. "Romana, carry him, will you?"
Romana rolled her eyes but picked up the little automaton anyway. K9 waggled his tail-antennae appreciatively as the Doctor strode on purposively, his arms too filled with a manner of objects. As soon as the paving was more suitable for his traction, she placed him down with an affectionate pat on the head before they hurried after their companion.
The air was almost intoxicating, with the scent of heavy blossom and the odd leaf beginning to brave a new world. The Doctor grinned as he set up the easel and paints in a suitable position in front of the Minster as K9 and Romana appeared in the gardens. He beckoned them over whilst somehow managing to throw his scarf over his shoulder at the same time.
"York Minster." He beamed. "Second largest cathedral in Northern Europe. All gothic beauty. I'm sure you can do something with these?"
"Me?" Romana gasped. "Paint?"
"Why not? You need to learn that the best artwork comes from in here, not computers."
He thrust his hand on her chest, so that he could feel the gentle thrumming of her dual heartbeat. Somehow, they both managed to skip a beat at the same time. Cursing herself inside, Romana could only hope that the Doctor didn't notice as he removed his hand tentatively.
"Strange." He muttered. "We should check that out when we get back to the TARDIS. Anyway, come along K9."
The Doctor liked spring and he bounced along aptly, with K9 trailing behind him. It was surprisingly warm for an April afternoon, but the gusts of wind offset that quite nicely. York was quieter than most the year. Students who would normally be haunting the local cafes and bars had dispersed home for the well-earned holiday but had been replaced by school children, the younger of whom took some fascination in K9.
"No climbing." The Doctor mused, staring at Baile Hill, the location of Clifford's Tower. "Well it seems like an awful shame not to climb a hill like that, doesn't it K9?"
"Negative, Master." Chirruped K9
"Negative, what do you mean 'negative'? It's a lovely hill, all covered in daffodils."
"It is not a hill, Master."
"What do you mean 'not a hill?' Of course it's a hill! It's been here since-"
"It is made of a composite material not of this planet."
"Have you got sugar in your motors again K9?"
The Doctor promptly ignored K9 and wandered upwards amongst the blooming bulbs, leaving K9 whirring nervously at the bottom. As soon as he had reached halfway up to the tower itself, the mound had enveloped him, scarf and all. K9, using his initiative, started to make his way back slowly to his Mistress to update her on the latest developments.
"Well this is quite interesting isn't it?"
The Doctor was speaking aloud to nobody in particular. He appeared to be inside a rather cavernous hub of a spaceship, the viewing screen currently showing the Hilton hotel beside Clifford's Tower. Being the Doctor, he couldn't resist having a fiddle and was soon pressing multiple buttons, trying to find out exactly what made this craft tick – besides its incredible disguise of course.
"Ah but well now… how do you stop any old person dropping in?" He mused. "Drunken students, local kids… oh hello!"
He paused to stare at the slightly ruffled Canada goose staring at him. For wildfowl, it looked rather annoyed.
"That's a point, the local wildlife! What about them?"
"Who are you and how did you get aboard this ship."
"Me? I just stumbled upon it. I'm the Doctor by the way. Who am I talking to?"
Innocuously, he blew on the dog whistle attuned specifically to a frequency only K9 would recognise whilst he resumed fiddling with the machinery surrounding him.
"I hope you don't mind, but this is quite fascinating."
The goose approached closer, gaining a significant temper now.
"I think you'll find I do mind, Doctor." It squawked.
"How did you do that?" He muttered darkly.
"I am Greyden," The goose announced altogether too proudly, "of Battle Fleet XK987Δ.09a for the Honourable..."
"Yes, yes, that's all very nice, Greyden, but I prefer to identify aliens by species."
"I am a Koanon."
K9 trundled to a halt before turning tail at the whim of his Master. He had almost reached the Minster at this point, so if he had been programmed with it, he could quite easily hold a grudge against the Doctor. However, Romana was always keen to try to keep on top of any illogical behaviour, so this was not a problem. The one thing she never managed to erase however was his air of superiority. K9 was well aware that his Time Lord Master and Mistress were incredibly illogical beings themselves, but it didn't stop him obeying them.
"So, Greyden, how did you get here?"
"Crash landed."
"But you're under Clifford's Tower!"
"We have been hibernating until our ship is ready to launch. It is now. You will do so for us."
"Or you'll what? Peck me to death?" The Doctor paused, "ah, you do know that is incredibly intrusive, don't you?"
The goose swayed its head as the Doctor recovered from the brutal knocking down of walls via telepathy. Carefully, he edged towards the control panel and observed it.
"This is terribly primitive. Like that body you're wearing. I'm sure the goose doesn't approve."
"That is a matter of opinion, Doctor," He stated.
"And what about launching? It'll take up half the city with you! I'm sure the locals will notice."
"That too, is a matter of opinion. These locals, they are only primitive."
K9 whirred to a halt at the Doctor's feet. The Doctor, noticing him crouched down to his level and explained a plan, quickly, quietly. A virus, in the controls would stop them leaving. The Koanons had very few supplies left, and would soon die out.
"If they were only primitive, would they have been able to design K9?"
"The plan is complete, Master. Suggest you leave now before hostiles attack."
"Alright, K9." The Doctor rolled his eyes. Sometimes K9 got ideas above his station.
The goose attempted to charge at them, and the Doctor managed to block him out of his mind also. Once they were both safely outside, he sealed the doors, thoroughly relieved the muddy patch would soon grow over.
"Well, K9, I think we ought to find out how Romana is doing."
"Affirmative."
They reached the Minster to the sight of Romana tapping her paintbrush against the easel, obviously bored. She smiled as the Doctor and K9 approached, making sure to pet K9 as he stopped beside her.
"Emc²?"
"Yes, I had a rather interesting debate with a student. These humans can be quite clever!"
"But this isn't art!"
"Well, isn't art all a matter of opinion anyway?" She paused to look at his clothing. "What have you been doing? It looks like you've been rolling down hills."
"That pretty much sums it up doesn't it K9."
"Negative, Master. We…"
"Enough, K9."
"Doctor, it's beginning to rain," Romana said, whilst picking up the equipment dispersed around her.
"April showers, Romana."
The Doctor smiled and began to help her. He couldn't help but grin slightly more when their hands brushed together and she withdrew hers shyly, quickly. So much so, that he continued to wear it as they rushed back to the TARDIS, away from the typical spring weather of York, UK.