Hello! This is fill for a tumblr prompt I received! The prompt was "Loki tries to steal the TARDIS (with River Song cameos)." I have no plans as of yet to continue the story, but I thought I'd put it up here for giggles.
Falling Through Time And Relative Dimensions
a Thor/Doctor Who Fanfic
He made it.
He had traveled, traveled so far, for so long, through the cold and dark and the void, endless space and stars.
Falling. Without a sound. Without a scream.
Though it had been him, hadn't it, who let go. But his brother was still to blame. His brother who let him let go.
And now he had landed…here. Where was here?
Loki was lying bodily on a blue box that was quietly floating in the in-between space between worlds, his cheek pressed to a window pane, his left foot dangling off the side. A Midgardian light bulb resonated light in a steady, gold beat—almost blinding. The God of Mischief huffed against the glass and just let the tiredness seep into his bones, happy to call this piece of wreckage home. For now.
"Oooh, that is clever, sweetie."
"I knew you would like it."
"Just don't drive us home with the breaks on and the dimensional tear should heal itself."
"It's supposed to make—"
There was some sort of alien sound then, but it sounded familiar, like a memory of long ago…. Loki started. He pressed his ear against the window glass. The sounds were coming from inside the box. Not only were there sounds of human speech floating in the endless madness of nothing, but the sounds were kissing.
Well, if they could do that, then they could be forced to let him in. Flinching through the pain, he formed a fist and pounded on the box. "Let me in!" he whispered, his voice unable to do much more. When nothing happened, Loki, hoarse as Odin himself, repeated, "I demand entrance upon your kindness!"
The smacking kissing sounds stopped. The demure female voice sighed, "Sweetie, why do you insist on picking up strays?"
"Who's stray, he's not my stray, if anything he's your stray, you're the one who wanted to keep that kitten."
"And it would've made a darling pet cat."
"It was Princess Anastasia's!"
"Like she would have missed it. I think I'll go to bedroom and wait for you there."
"Oh…very well. Give us a tic."
He heard some scrambling and shuffling going on, but before he could do anything, the box opened up from underneath him and he was falling onto some stairs, hitting his chin. "Yes, yes, what do you want?" asked a man as he fell.
Loki gathered himself and looked around the alien space—all glass and tubes and green and brass. "What is this place?" He looked at the man—Midgardian tweed, red bowtie, boots, annoyed expression, jaw like a wooden block, brown hair flopped to the side and noticeably rumpled—"Who are you?"
Loki felt wild—this place was so big yet so confining, so warm after his fall.
"Loki, God of Mischief, Norse Mythology, how are you doing?" The man's annoyance disappeared, and he clapped Loki on the back like an old friend. "It's been ages since I've seen you! But what does a man have to do to get a little time alone in the middle of space…." The man continued up the stairs to what seemed to be a control panel, but also could have been a toddler's sun stone collection glued to a display. The man fiddled with the stones, poking at few. The man whirled around again, and the doors snapped shut behind him.
Loki had no words. After the silence and darkness, the warm thrumming, the happy light was almost too much. His chest seemed to be siezing. "Please, sir, I haven't the faintest idea who you are."
The man did a double take, like he was going to spit out his tongue. "Oh!" Suddenly, he rushed towards Loki and danced around him, touching his clothes, licking the fingers that had touched his clothes. "Oh, I see. I recognize that haircut," the man said. "We've not met yet. Properly. Tell me, Loki, does the word 'Avengers' mean anything to you? Allons-y? Geronimo? No?"
When Loki didn't make a movement of recognition, the man's face fell. "This must be a quick stop then."
"What are you speaking of, mortal?"
"Wellll, funny you should say that," the man said. He was bouncing back to the control panel, pressing the stones in earnest now. Suddenly the room was whirring louder now, the big tube of green liquid the panel moved around pumping up and down.
Loki's heart seemed to pound in his ears. He gripped the railing of the stairs until his knuckles turned white. "What's happening!"
The man's hands were flying now; the room banged and bumped, almost spun. Loki's stomach was roiling. "Pay attention, God of Mischief," the man said. "This is your one free lift to where you're supposed to go. I'm not helping you any more because I know you'll muddle it out yourself. And," The man appeared in front of him again, crowding his body, "thousands of innocents depend on it. And I've got an impatient woman waiting. Terrible combination." Before Loki could so much as breathe the man was back at the panel. With a final flick, the room was still.
Almost as still as the void.
Loki let go of the stair railing. The room was back to making gentle hums, and the man was still speaking, "Now, before you ask, this is a TARDIS, Time And Relative Dimensions In Space: it can travel through seas of stars and the ages of eons and will put your little head in a spin."
The man brushed past him and opened the door Loki had just come from. "Off you go, then."
Loki cautiously stepped towards the door. And miracle of Freya, he was on a planet. A rock of a planet, but solid nonetheless. Space was regulated to miles above his head. "Did this—TARDIS—just take us—"
"Yes, it did. Now off you go to make mistakes and then fix them."
Loki gripped the doorframe. He had not stepped outside the box. No. "This is magical! And it can go anywhere?"
"Absolutely," the man nodded. "And anytime."
"Then is valuable beyond belief! I must have it."
The man frowned. "What—"
"Give it to me, mortal," Loki watched the man's face carefully. He stepped towards him. The man stepped away. "You called me a God. I demand this ship as an offering."
The man raised his hands in front of his face, as if to block Loki from sight. "Loki, I'm going to be a dear friend later; you don't want to mess this up."
Loki took another step back inside the wondrous machine, back to the door. This was better than any planet or sun or moon. He would have it and never be lost in the abyss again. "So we meet again? You've seen me before."
The man nodded. "We meet after—"
A female voice interrupted. "That's quite enough."
Loki's gaze shot up to the woman whose curly hair bounced against her bare shoulders. She was naked except for the gun aimed at him.
"Get out the TARDIS, Loki of Asgard," she said, deadly as coiled snake. She arched an eyebrow. "I will shoot."
Loki raised his hands in submission. He began backing towards the entrance. "At least tell me your names, kind fellows." This was important. Names held power. A name meant he could find them again, no matter where they traveled. And he would. He would find them and take this machine for his own. Think of the power, the possibilities.
"River Song," she said.
Loki took a final step backward. He was outside, the planet's dirt making a small dust cloud. He looked to the man.
"I'm the Doctor."
The Doctor snapped his fingers.
The doors to the most wondrous machine of all the worlds snapped shut.
With a groaning whir, the machine disappeared before Loki's very eyes.
He laughed. Those fools. He would find them. They had given him their names.