Hey there Whovians! This is my first Doctor Who fanfic, so don't be surprised if the Doctor is really OOC.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who is the property of the BBC. PythianPickles does not claim any rights/ownership to it.
The TARDIS materialized in a territory unknown to man, a place no male had ever gone before…
…a woman's clothes shop. (A/N: Yes, I'm sure there are exceptions to this. No offense.)
"So, why are we stopping here again?" Rory asked.
"I need to buy a bra," the Doctor responded cheerfully.
Both Amy and Rory stared.
"I thought you were crazy when you were talking about your raggedy man, but I'm starting to think he's crazy too," whispered Rory to Amy.
"Oh, don't be like that, Rory!" the Doctor parried. "It's for a big complicated thing…with lots of…levers…and bras…and stuff. Out you pop, then, Pond! Get me a bra."
"Who, me?" Rory asked disbelievingly.
"No, of course not!" the Doctor exclaimed. "That won't happen until 2050. Amy, go get me a bra."
"Okay, then, Doctor," Amy said. She exited the TARDIS, leaving Rory and the Doctor alone in the console room.
Five minutes passed by in utter silence until Rory decided he had to say something.
"So…uh…nice weather, is it?" Rory prompted. He was not expecting the Doctor to run to the doors, poke his head out, and sniff loudly.
"Yes, I suppose so," the Doctor said, closing the doors. "35% chance of showers tomorrow, slight hint of pollution in the air, some nitrous oxides and some bad, bad chemicals."
"Did you just put my wife into poisonous air?" Rory asked.
"I think you people just call it air," the Doctor said.
"Ok then…" Rory was frantically trying to think of a conversation topic that wouldn't result in more unwanted facts about his world.
"Why a police box?" he burst out randomly. Well, that isn't too weird of a question, he thought.
"Oh, you want to see?" the Doctor said. He started reaching for the takeoff lever…
"NO!" Rory yelled. In a calmer tone, he said, "We are not leaving my wife in a clothes shop while you take me to 962 B.C. or something."
"Oh, well, I guess I can tell you myself," the Doctor replied, with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "You know, Amy asked the same thing…"
"Alright, Doctor, what happened?" Rory said. I think this should be relatively interesting… he thought to himself.
Outside the TARDIS, Amy headed towards what looked like the clothes section, only to see rows of empty racks. "What…?" she murmured to herself.
"Oh, we're all sold out," a passing attendant informed her nonchalantly.
"What about the back?" Amy asked. "I just need to get a bra."
"I think we might have some, come this way," the attendant said, starting to stride off.
Amy followed.
"…so there was this poor bloke, backed up in an alley with some nasty blokes with rifles. I'd just taken Amy out—"
"…Amy was there?"
"Oh yeah. She asked the same thing, remember? No idea why you humans are so interested in this…"
"Oh yeah…"
"Anyway, there were these two nasty fellows, rifles and bayonets and all. Sorta looked like they were gonna cut off his nose. You know, there's this planet just full of dogs with no noses, called Barce—"
"Yes, that's nice, Doctor, but back to your story, please," Rory interrupted.
"Sorry. Right. So I took out my sonic, love my sonic, by the way, and increased the molecular resonance of the metal things so they jumped out of the peoples' hands!"
"Oh. But what does this have to do with why the TARDIS looks like a police box?" Rory asked doubtfully.
"Let me finish, Rory," the Doctor said. "So I told them I had magical powers, and you humans being as stupid as you are, please take offense, Rory…"
"…"
"…they screamed and ran. Anyway, guy we saved, name was Gill MacKenzie Trench or something, was all grateful and stuff. Caught a glimpse of the TARDIS, and I didn't think anything would happen…"
"I'm guessing that something happened," Rory finished.
"Of course something happened, Rory! That's called foreshadowing, get used to it," the Doctor said. "So off we pop in the TARDIS, and the bloke decides to revise the police boxes so they look like the TARDIS, since I was probably like some help-giving god to him. Probably would've started giving me sacrifices…"
"Uh, Doctor, people don't do that in 1929," Rory said.
"Oh, whatever, Rory…but then, anyway, my first wrinkly self decides to materialize in London around 1929, and BOOM! TARDIS decides to disguise itself like itself, or in other words, a police box, with that awesome sound…"
The Doctor started imitating the sound of the TARDIS.
Rory didn't want to become deaf before his time, so he interrupted and asked, "So you're saying that the TARDIS is a police box because you gave some guy the idea to make a police box that looked like the TARDIS, which looked like a police box because…Agh, my head hurts."
"Wibbley wobbley, timey wimey," the Doctor explained, with a wave of his hand.
"…what?"
"Oh, nothing. Something I picked up from…uh…one of my mentors." the Doctor expounded weakly.
"I think you should pick up more mentors. Maybe he'll take you up on some social skills," Rory said. He felt a need to insult the Doctor after all those insults… "How many did you have, anyway?" he asked curiously.
"Oh, ah, 11 right now," the Doctor said.
"Well, I think you should get one more, like 12 or something." Rory said.
"No, I think I'm fine…" The Doctor's expression grew inexplicably old and wistful.
"Oh, sorry, Doctor. I didn't mean to hurt you. Did one of them die or something?" Rory inquired, beginning to regret his actions.
"Oh, nothing, Rory. It's just—" The Doctor was interrupted by a loud banging on the TARDIS doors. "Coming!" he yelled. The Doctor pulled open the door to find a sweating and panting Amy. "Oh, hello Pond! Where's my bra?" he said.
Amy rushed into the TARDIS and leaned against the wall. "Sorry, Doctor, but I ran into some people who wanted to—"
"SACRIFICE THE HERETIC!" a loud chorus came from outside the TARDIS.
The Doctor hurriedly closed the doors, ran back to the console, and started the dematerialization cycle. "So, Rory, they offer sacrifices in the 21st century, it seems, so why not in the 1920s?" the Doctor asked Rory with a smug look on his face.
"Look, Doctor, we're not all—"
"Oh, I'm sure you have your excuses, Rory, but I don't have time to hear them. Now come on. Let's find a proper clothes shop. I still need to find a bra!"
The TARDIS whirled through the Time Vortex towards its next destination. The Doctor faced away from Amy and Rory with a sad expression on his face. "Twelve…thirteen…" he mumbled to himself.
If only he knew what was to come.
And…that concludes my first Doctor Who fanfic! Hope that wasn't too OOC or awkward. This is a oneshot, by the way.
PythianPickles out! *dematerializes in TARDIS* *rematerializes on Barcelona*