*Hello again everyone :) I've got another story. Hope you like it. It goes right along with "A Hard Day's Night in Time and Space" and "TARDIS For Sale". It's going to be much shorter than the other two, but it's still fun. It's kind of like a mini-episode in between TARDIS For Sale and what's going to be my next longer one. I'm currently working on that one, but it will be a bit before I'm ready to put it on.
I had a thought that I might as well give this Doctor Who/Beatles series of stories a name seeing how they all tie together and everything. I decided on "In The Sky With Diamonds; A Space-Time Saga". Bit over-dramatic? Haha I don't know. Let me know what you think in the reviews.
So here this one is and I hope you like it :)
Paul was skiing along quite happily, a cold wind blowing in his face, drying his skin even through all the layers of makeup that he had been forced to wear. Ringo was beside him, bobbing side to side. Paul looked at him nervously. He was making rather wide swerves. They had already had two crashes this morning (the first involving John's loose ski and resulting in George's near asphyxiation {John and George had been trying to ski alongside each other while wearing the same extra-long red-and-white striped scarf, but John fell due to a faulty ski, tightening the noose on poor Geo}, the second involving Ringo trying to light a ciggie whilst skiing. That one would have gone fine if Paul hadn't tripped on rock that was masked by snow and fell on him, ending him up with a flaming mitten and a face full of snow), and Paul wasn't eager for a third.
When he was first told that the filming of their newest film was going to take them to the Alps, he was excited. It didn't feel a whole lot like filming, really. He had to do very little acting, he just had to ski around, and make the occasional funny face to the camera. Yesterday the film crew had hauled a grand piano out onto the slope for the boys to muck about with, and Ringo got to watch a double of himself ride around upside down from the ski lift (he wanted to do it himself, but Brian put his foot down). It was all good fun.
The boys were a long way from the bottom of the slope when Paul heard a strange sound; a gasping, straining sound. At first he dismissed it as the wind, or as one of the other boys making strange noises (which they often did to amuse themselves). He was looking down, watching the snow rush past his feet, and when he looked up, he saw a great blue thing in front of him. He tried to stop the way the stunt man had taught him, but he couldn't. At the last second, he swerved around it and skidded to a stop, followed by the rest of the lads.
"You didn't say it would be COLD, Doctor,", came a female voice.
"It is?".
"Come see for yourself,", she said, just turning to see a group of young men staring at her.
"Oh. Hello,", she said.
They blinked at her.
"Are you... You're not... This isn't...?", stammered George, waddling ungracefully in his skis up to the TARDIS.
"Sorry, uh,", she said.
"Donna! You've grown!", blurted John, almost having to look up at the redheaded woman (he wasn't wearing his glasses).
"Ummm... No, I'm not, I'm not Donna,", she managed, wondering who these kooks were.
She had penetrating green eyes and hair that couldn't get much redder. She looked fairly cold, standing there in a light blouse and a miniskirt.
"Good God, you're Scottish!", said Ringo, the words spilling out of his mouth upon hearing her accent.
Amy's eyes widened a little.
"Doctor, Rory,", she called back into the TARDIS. "Dudes out here, I think they're insane or something please help NOW,", she said, shout-whispering the last part.
"Sorry, Amy, I was just grabbing the jumpers, since you said it was cold, darling,", said a man, just stepping out the door. He was fairly skinny, had light brown hair, and a definite nose.
He looked up after a moment and noticed the group gathered before their time machine.
"Oh,", he said. His expression was blank. His eyes scanned between the four of them.
"Oh,", he repeated. He looked as though he might be about to implode.
"Am, ama, A-a-a-a,", he said, smiling wider than looked possible for his face size.
"What, Rory?", she said, turning back to him, confused as to what was wrong with him all of a sudden.
"Muh!", he shouted, then covered his mouth quickly with his hand. He then found himself unable to make any noises other than a high-pitched wheeze-squeal.
"Is crazy contagious, or what?", said Amy, getting impatient with her husband.
"It's, it's, it's,", he started, unable to make it past that first conjunction.
"It's what, Rory?", she asked.
"IT'S THE BEATLES OH MY GOD AMY OH SWEET JESUS-", he said, the passage from his brain to his mouth just reopening for business.
"What?", asked Amy, wondering if Rory was seeing the same thing that she was.
"HOLY GOD, AMY IT'S THE BEATLES OH LORD I'M GONNA DIE-", he shouted, unaware that her ear was in the line of fire.
"Oh, it can't be,", scoffed Amy, trying peer at them under their winter gear.
"It is, you know,", said Ringo.
Amy's smirk was wiped right off her face. Now it was her turn to stand there, stunned.
Rory went right up to John and started shaking his hand vigorously.
"I've got ever record you ever made, I was you for Halloween for six straight years, I learned guitar because of you, I wrote a paper on you for my Year Ten writing subject, I've had your picture on my wall since I was eleven, and may I say, "Imagine" changed my life,", said Rory, beaming, nearly shaking John's arm out of socket.
"I'm tryin' to Imagine what you're talking about, son,", said John, mostly to himself, because Rory couldn't hear over his own hyperventilating.
"Oh, of course! You haven't done that yet! Sorry. I'm Pond Williams. I mean, William Ponds. I mean, Rory Pond. I mean Rory Amy. I mean,", Rory could have gone on. John raised his eyebrows.
Amy's shock wore off at about that time.
"Oh my God, you're Paul McCartney!", she screamed, and ran up to him and hugged him.
"What are we, chopped liver?", Ringo mumbled to George.
Just then, another man emerged from the TARDIS. He had a brown quiff and was wearing a checked suit and red bowtie. He was tall and thin, and he had an angular face. He was a stranger to the Beatles, until they looked into his eyes, and then they knew who it was.
"Hello, boys. I'm back.".
"Doctor?", asked Ringo, trying to get a confirmation.
"Yeah. Ya dig the new body?", he said, straightening his bowtie.
"Yeah, but can you get your money back on the eyebrows?", asked John.
"'Ey, Lennon, why don't you just give me some of yours. You've got enough for three people. I'll just donate mine to an Ood,", the Doctor laughed jovially.
"An Ood has eyebrows?", Amy asked, stopping strangling Paul for a second.
"Exactly,", said the Doctor, pointing at Amy.
"Hey,", said Rory, turning to Amy. "Husband?", he said, motioning to himself and questioning Amy.
"Oh. Sorry. Love you,", she said, releasing Paul and tapping Rory's shoulder. "He gets jealous,", she whispered to Paul and laughed playfully.
"Heard that,", said Rory, laughing, though still looking at his idols in total wonder.
"How long have you two been married?", asked John knowingly.
"Two weeks.".
"Ah. Wait 'til you've been married as long as I have, you'll be singin' a different tune,", said Ringo.
"How long've you been married?", asked Amy.
"Three weeks.".
Amy laughed, and Ringo smiled with satisfaction at the success of his quip. Rory didn't laugh. He was still floating on Beatle Cloud 9, barely hearing what anyone was saying.
"Hey though, fellows, I just stopped off on my way to Rio, we've had so many pit-stops already, I think these two would've gotten there faster on foot,", the Doctor's speech wandered. "But did you get my note?".
"What note?", they all echoed.
"Oh, good grief,", he muttered to himself. "I told you not to leave it with the producer, Amy, I told you,", he scolded his companion lightly.
"Well! You said not to get seen! I just stopped some teenage girl with a Beatle cut and told her to leave the note. It was unsigned, anyway, how could they know who it was from?".
"They should have known, no one says that but us,", muttered the Doctor.
"Says what?".
"Lythm-rogs!", the Doctor exclaimed in a matter-of-fact manner.
"Doctor,", said Paul, a concerned look on his face. "You left that note months ago. When you left last time.".
"Oh, no I didn't, I just left it yesterday! You never responded, so I had to come and check up on you and make sure you got the message!".
"That note had me looking round all the corners and checking my closet for CIA midgets for a week, and nothing happened! I thought we decided 'lythm-rogs' meant danger?", said George.
"It does, it does! The bus is going to blow up because of the egg in the walrus sequence!", said the Doctor. The Beatles were sure that he was making perfect sense to himself and the Ponds.
"I mean,", he said, looking into the blank faces of his sometimes-companions.
"From the beginning, Doctor,", said Ringo.
"Right,", said the Doctor, shivering before accepting the scarf that Rory was extended to him. "Right,", he repeated, wrapping it round his neck. "In a couple years, you're going to make another film,", he started.
"Another one? Do I have to wear a bloody gigantic and uncomfortable ring in this one?", Ringo said, motioning to a bulge under his glove.
"Uh, no. You just have to wear white suits and dance.".
"Oh, no! I'm not dancing! Nuh-uh!", protested John emphatically.
"Hey, let's keep an open mind, Lennon, an open mind,", chided the Doctor in the way only he could.
"Anyhow, on the third day of shooting, during the lunch break, there's going to be a Dalek trying to blow you up. He'll be dressed as an egg, don't worry.".
"Dressed as a what?", asked Paul.
"An egg. He blends in perfectly.".
"A deviled egg!", said John in a very posh accent, acting as if he were swearing. Everyone snorted.
"Why does a Dalek want to blow us up?", asked Ringo. "What did we ever do to any of them?".
"Well...", said Paul. "I might've caused them to blow themselves up once, remember Ring?".
"Oh, yeah. You told me about that.".
"Oh, it's just the usual Dalek stratagem - kill everybody, ruin the humans, victory for the Daleks, blah blah blah, you know the type,", said the Doctor casually. "But anyway. Don't talk to any of the eggs, just remember that.".
"What the hell is this film going to be about, anyway?", laughed George.
"You tell me, mate, you tell me,", the Doctor trailed off, shaking his head and buzzing his lips to himself.
"But anyhow. He is going to deposit an explosive under the front driver's side fender of the bus, and you've got to stop him. You've got to get the bomb to me, because bomb disposal technology in your time can't handle it. It's got a timer that's going to go off at exactly 2:23pm, so get the job done well before then. All you've got to do split it open by inserting a 3/8ths flat-blade screwdriver into the crevice on the side, then you've got to cut the smaller blue wire. It's about the weight of a light-gauge 4th string on a guitar. If you cut the bigger one, it'll all be over, but... Oh, never mind, you'll be fine. I'll be there to pick it up by the end of the day.".
"All right then,", said John, nodding to himself. "And where will you be if we blow everyone up?".
"John, we won't blow everyone up,", said Paul, always the voice of optimism versus John's voice of pessimism.
"Don't be so sure, son.".
"Not there, that's where I'll be,", replied the Doctor.
"Why not?".
"Never mind that,", dismissed the Doctor with a sweep of his hand. "Oh! And if you see a man dressed in a striped suit and wearing a sprig of asparagus on his lapel, under no circumstances should you speak to him.".
"'S he you, too?", asked George.
"How'd you guess?".
"Well, you wouldn't let us have any fun that you could have yourself unless you couldn't be there. You can't cross your own timeline without causing a major paradox.".
"Righto, George,", said the Doctor with a smile. He had trained some clever companions.
"So what will your former self be saving the world from at the same time?".
"Oh, nothing to concern you, just some, um, Zygons. And Paul, do you still have an allergy to parsley?".
"Um, yeah, why?".
"Good. That'll help me flush out the Zygon. Don't want an Elizabeth the First situation again. But you just forget that, don't think of parsley ever again,", rambled the Doctor.
"But anyway, we must be off, have a good film, have a good album, have a good tour, have a good wedding, George,", said the Doctor waving to them. "But, oh, uh- forget that, George, forget that, I uh, don't know what I was saying,", the Doctor tried to cover up. "Anyhow, remember; asparagus - a no-no, Paul, forget parsley, but most importantly, 3/8ths flat-blade non-sonic screwdriver, cut the little blue wire, cut it clean in two! And oh, don't egg on any eggs!", the Doctor laughed to himself at his last pun.
Amy started back into the TARDIS at the Doctor's bidding, and she had to pull Rory along as he was still gaping at his idols.
"And oh, John,", said Rory, hanging back out the door.
"Yeah?".
"Your guitar string is going to break and snap you in the eye in Salt Lake City this summer. Just a note to self, might want to change your set before you go on,", advised Rory.
"Hey, yeah man, thanks,", said John. Rory wasn't that bad after all.
"Come on,", laughed Amy, dragging him inside.
"All right, Ponds,", the Doctor started to say to him full-time companions just as he closed the door behind himself as he returned to the TARDIS without properly saying goodbye to the boys.
"Well,", said Ringo. "That's what I call a newsflash.".
"All right, lads,", said John, assuming the lead. He turned around and started to skii down the slope.
"Wait!", said Ringo.
"What is it, mate?".
"Aren't you going to watch?", he asked, just as the vortex wind started to blow in their faces, tousling their hair and blowing George's stovepipe hat clean off.
They watched with wonder as the box dematerialized, making its vworping noise, the lamp on top flashing in time with the noise. They stood there until the box couldn't be seen and the noises could no longer be heard, and all that was left of the magic was a little dust-devil of snow blowing round where the box had been.
"Well,", said Ringo, turning. "I guess that's over for another two years.".
"Good. Gives me time to think how in the hell we're ever going to write a good song about walruses and eggs,", said John thoughtfully, turning in his skis. "Come on, lads,", he said, motioning them to follow.
Thoughts of the blue box and the mysteries of the future still left unsolved filled their minds as they coasted down the hill.
*All right, see you people in '67! Haha
Review, please! I'd love to know what you all are thinking of this one :)
Peace and love and see you next time :)