Rock music and bagpipes. Zoe Heroit moaned, rolling over in her bed, head buried in her pillow. It was 10 past the eight o'clock, and he was at it again. She should had suspected when Jamie was singing in the shower that morning, she could hear him down the hall as she was trotting to the latrine, that she'd get no sleep.
What was it this time? That song about Help? Beatles? The boy had been listening to some LPs after the shower in his bedroom across the hall. In the hazy half sleep state of her mind she made out the same piece of music being played over and over again like a broken record. And did she hear a recorder accompanying him? Of course it was a recorder, the Doctor was just as much a child as the boy! And she was a helpless audience in her bed.
Zoe blinked across her room, clothes were strung about on the hat rack, and her vanity was littered with perfumes and jewelry. An array of scattered papers sat on her desk, near her lap top computer. She had been doing some calculations and studying Transindental Mathematics, and went to bed very late.
Damn them, damn then all, how could a girl get her beauty sleep, while living with the two of them?
With a grunt, she grabbed her robe, and pulled it on along with her pink bunny slippers. Her nighty was too light and inappropriate for male eyes and the last thing she wanted was Jamie tagging her around in search of something she had no intention of giving. Not that the boy would be rude about it, he'd just look like a lost puppy, sniffing around a tree annoying her to no end.
If she were to get any sleep, she'd have to take matters into her own hands.
Droopy eyed, and longing for the warm comfort of her bed, Zoe made her way across the hall.
There they were, the Doctor in his tall hat, baggy check pants and shirt sleeves. He stood near the record player, recorder in hand, shaking his head. "You see, my ear is impeccable, it's a c, not a b." He was saying to Jamie.
The Scot's lad was fiddling with a CD Walkman, headphones in hand, shaking his head. His bagpipes were slung over his shoulder and reminded her of plaid cows utters. "Speakers in that dinnea work." He said adamantly. "The sound is tinny, like singing in a can."
"There is nothing wrong with these speakers." The Doctor announced glaring at the Scot's lad. "Should I get my phonograph? That sounds tinny!"
Jamie shook his head, long hair falling in his eyes and bobbing over his shoulders. "It sounds all far away. But this, this has better sound." He waved the headphones to the Doctor, with a smile. "Like the pipes in a valley on a crisp morn."
"Stereo-headphones I see. "The Doctor made a face, studying the earphones. "Yes, you can go deaf with those."
Zoe folded her arms, clearing her voice. They were an odd pair indeed, the Doctor, a temporal eclectic, if not a tad old fashioned on the earth fashion scale. Then there was Jamie. Born in the late 1720's, dressed in his kilt, a leather and fur-vest, wristwatch, and a dark blue turtleneck with a sting of colored beads draping down his neck.
The Doctor grabbed the headphones from the boy, and placed them on, frowning as Jamie pressed the on button. Jamie pointed to the CD player. "I dinnea know yon note you call that, but I played the right one!" He announced. "I've been playing by ear since I was a we lad! The music it's a part of me, I ken me pipes and sounds around them!"
"Yes, yes, yes." The Doctor shook his head, and removed the head -phones . "It is tinny, as you say. Very well." He shrugged, handing Jamie the head -phones and placing the recorder to his lips. "B flat then."
Zoe jabbed a weary finger at Jamie "YOU! Are an anachronism!" Zoe began frustration and fury echoing in her voice as she swung her finger to point at the Doctor. "And you! Are a BAD INFLUENCE! And I, need sleep? ANY QUESTIONS?"
For the first time the two men took notice. "Yes, yes, dreadfully sorry my dear. Doing calculations again?" The Doctor smiled gently at her. "I see, went to bed late. I suppose we should take this to the study."
"But my CDs are here." Jamie said numbly staring at the horde of flat little jewel boxes scattered over his bed.
"We can improvise." The Doctor smiled. "If I am to be a bad influence, it will be a creative bad influence. Come now, my boy, we'll play else were."
Shrugging, Jamie adjusted his pipes, and followed the Doctor. He offered Zoe a weak smile. "I could pay ye a nice little lullaby."
She shook her head, and pointed out the door. "On bagpipes it will sound like a cat being drown!"
"Ye need to loosen up lass, and play a little." The Highland anachronism said, as he dropped his headphones down around his neck and trotted to the Doctor's side. Together, vanished down the hall, leaving her in peace once more. Loosen up! Zoe shook her head, annoyed. She knew how to have fun, it just wasn't squeezing an inflated bag and singing in the shower. Her fun was sums and calculations. With a yawn, Zoe Heroit shuffled back to bed, and tucked herself under the sheets. Wearily, she closed her eyes, and nestled her head into her pillow. Moments later zoe drifted off into a deep slumber.