I don't own Whoody Doc. A review would be nice, but no pressure. This episode was perfect.
'Exactly! Someone's been using a beam-me-up-Star-Trek teleport. Could be disguised as anything...' You cast a quick, sweeping glance around the lift. You hate lifts. Not bigger on the inside. And the lights are too bright. It's unnerving.
'But a teleport in a shop? That's ridiculous!'
Of course, it hits you the moment Craig says that. What you've done. That fact that you've taken a friend and his infant son into a teleport disguised as an out-of-order lift. Rubbish. Lifts aren't dangerous. You stupid, stupid, selfish old man.
The lights flicker.
'What was that?' Craig's voice is scared. Scared is bad. Scared human and alien teleport is really quite bad for your nerves. Which aren't great today anyway, what with that thing that is going to happen tomorrow.
Your hearts thrum faster at the thought, and your knees weaken, and suddenly there is nothing in the universe except Idon'twanttodieohRassilonIdonotwanttodie—but there is a scared human in your presence, which is far more important than your own impending death. You swallow thickly. Calm.
'Was that the lights again?'
When the lights flicker you're filled with the kind of dread that precedes you having to save lives. The lift dissolves around you and Craig, giving way to a badly lit, badly built control room, all dirty silver and steam and what have you done?
'Yes.' You lie, as always. Craig looks alarmed at your expression. You can feel it; eyes wide, lips pursed, actually looking quite scared yourself. 'Yes, that's all, it's the lights.'
Craig frowns at you. 'Why did you say that like that?'
Your voice had caught in your throat, making you croak and squeak, making the lie pretty much defunct. You're constantly surprised by human's ability to tell when you're lying to them. Their knack doesn't stop you, it just means you'll never stop trying to get better at it. 'Like what?' Too shrill. Needs toning down. 'Li—' Bit more. 'Li—' You clear your throat. 'Like—' There we go. Doctor's voice. 'Like what?'
'Like that in that high-pitched voice!' He sounds unimpressed, like he thinks you're being an idiot, with his eyebrows raised, because he knows something is wrong. It's cold in the control room.
'Just keep looking at me, Craig. Right at me.' You see something out of the corner of your eye, something moving, coming towards you and you don't know what it is or what to do now. 'Just keep looking.'
Human bemusement. So endearing. '...why?'
'Well. Because...because...' Your brain is whirring so fast that it's leaving light behind. How do you convince someone to just stare into your eyes so you don't give them more nightmares? What's something that will always make a human stop in their tracks, something that makes the world stop moving? What do humans always want to hear? Craig twists to look and you grab him by the shoulders and force him to look at you. What do all your companions want to hear you say to them?
'Because I love you.'
His reaction would be comical if everything wasn't so dire. His face makes him looks like you've cracked him in the head with a baseball bat. His whole body stiffens then relaxes in shock, like you've punched him in the stomach. Or like you've taken his breath away. The latter is far more appealing to your vanity.
'You love me?' He whispers because clearly to him it's a totally implausible idea. Which it isn't. Not really.
Because in all honesty, when you're nine hundred years old, you can't be picky about someone's sexual category.
You're almost nose to nose now, and you can almost taste the fear on Craig's breathe. You think he might be more afraid of you right now more than anything else. Captain Jack would be so proud of you in this moment, you sure of it. And with that in mind, you carry on pretending you're from outer-space and gay, because it gets Craig's attention and could very well save his life. 'Yes, Craig, it's you, it's always been you.' Your voice even trembles a little, hopefully in a way that conveys suppressed emotion. You're quite impressed with your own performance, if you do say so yourself.
'Me?' Craig hisses. You extract your sonic screwdriver from your pocket and put your arms around his neck, trying to find the right setting on the screwdriver to get you both out of here whilst at the same time trying to make sure Craig doesn't look around and maybe have a heart attack.
'Is that so surprising?' It's all getting a little out of hand now but you're determined that you'll both get out of this alive (because you've got dying to do elsewhere, and Craig is a father) so you'll do whatever you have to.
Craig's eyes dart to your lips and you can see the epiphany expanding in his eyes and he manages to gasp out 'Doctor, are you going to kiss me?' which wasn't exactly what you had in mind when you decided on doing what you had to.
But hey, why not?
'Yes, Craig. Yes, I am. Would you like that?' Went a bit far, that last one, you think. Bit too far. Bit too provocative, bit too breathless, the kind of voice you save solely for the TARDIS on special occasions, and Craig looks quite terrified and you babble on, still fumbling with the screwdriver. 'Bit out of practice but I've had some wonderful feedback!'
And you lean forward and you realise that actually kissing Craig is becoming less of a possibility and more of a likelihood and is this a morally okay thing to do to a man with a child?
Craig appears to steel himself for A Snog With An Alien, which you find slightly strange, but then again, everyone seems to want to kiss you. Maybe there's just something about you that makes people fall in love with you. Maybe it's because you're an alien and you don't count.
Not that it matters now: you won't be alive much longer to ask anyone if you count, or if they love you.
Then Craig remembers himself, and he rears away your closed eyes and ridiculously puckered lips and the daft noises you're making. He giggles slightly, smiles and says with gentle franticness 'Doctor! Doctor, I can't, I'm taken—' and he turns his head away and sees the spaceship and poor Craig Owens screams 'OH MY GOD!' into your face.
'Or we could just hold hands if that'd make you feel more comfortable!'
'WHAT IS HAPPENING?'
He bawls as—as— dear God Almighty, a Cyberman, a Cyberman with a jagged slash down its face comes stomping into view and this is far worse than you imagined and you're still holding Craig in your arms so the first thing you can thing to say to make the situation better is, 'Well, first of all, I don't really love you! Except as a friend!' The Cyberman clanks and hisses towards you and Craig is shaking and finally, you find the right setting. Finally. About time.
'WHAT IS THAT?'
The bubble of fear that bloomed in your chest at the sight of one of your worst enemies bursts out of your in a horrified yell as the Cyberman reaches out an arm towards you and Craig is hollering in terror and you point the screwdriver at the teleportation regulator and it explodes and the lift suddenly materializes around you and Craig.
You let out the breath you had been holding since you stepped into the lift.
You squeeze Craig's shoulder reassuringly. 'Quick reversal.' Composed, cool, all fine. Saved the day. Yay.
'TELL ME WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!'
You can't answer. Alfie is gurgling to you. 'That was really scary Doctor. Not-Mum was really scared too. Were you really scared Doctor? That was really scary Doctor...' Your fingertips touch the baby's downy head tenderly. Yes, I was scared, Stormageddon.
You're still scared.
But it has little to do with Cybermen.
