Imprint
A oneshot in which we contemplate the tenth Doctor's fashion choices. Ducklings, pinstriped suits and a final desperate attempt at coolness.
Disclaimer- I don't own 'Who. I do however own… Um… Wait, what do I own? I don't even have a life to call my own. Ouch.
Author's Note- I'm sorry! I haven't written anything in almost 3 weeks! I go from updating weekly to this?!?! I am ashamed. I do have an excuse, but a rather shoddy one. School's been mad, I just finished mid-year exams, blah, blah, blah… Get an interesting story already! Well, if I told you that a strange man in a big blue box showed up in my yard, would you really believe me? Thought you might… That's for another time.
Darn. I have to start the story soon… It's very difficult to do, especially with a fresh Nine tape downstairs… All the episodes up till Dalek. Which I can watch as soon as I'm done here because my little Who-hating sister is at a friend's house…
Stripes.
Of all the clothes Jackie Tyler had lying about in her flat, it had to be stripes.
Merry Christmas… Real important Doctor.
In all fairness, he hadn't really been himself at that point in time… Not enough to remember the true Curse of the Time Lords. Commonly known as the 'duckling' curse. Scientifically known as 'imprint learning'.
He really, really, really should have tried harder to remember that.
And how much could you have told them? Seriously, you couldn't have dreamed you'd be able to stay conscious long enough to tell them about the curse…
I could have told them to leave me in my previous regeneration's clothes…
They would've thought you were delirious.
I was.
Shut up!
The Doctor gave an almighty twitch, and attempted to curb his monologue. Even in his head he couldn't stop talking… That was going to get him in trouble…
More trouble than the stripes?
He sighed, rifling through a pile of socks rather dejectedly. It was a simple rule, really. Like a baby duckling seeing it's mother for the first time, Time Lords had an automatic fondness for the first new clothing worn after a regeneration. Well, not fondness exactly… More like being duty-bound to carry out it's legacy.
But why, in the name of Rassilon, did it have to be stripes?!?!?
The Doctor had always liked round, swirling shapes with no real beginning or end.
Like circles. I like circles. I could have worn something with circles.
Straight lines were rather boring. Predictable. Two things that terrified him, monotony and predictability.
And now he had to find something with both.
Absolutely and utterly terrifying.
Rounding a corner, a coat caught his eye. Coats were very important. And if…
Yes!
A long, soft, brown coat! Perfect! Big enough to cover most of the stripes. Now to find said stripes…
Here was something… A dark brown suit with black stripes. Not too bad. The stripes blended in with the main fabric, so at least it wasn't burning his eyes out.
The Doctor disappeared for a moment, shedding the blinding stripes and replacing them with their less destructive counterpart. And the coat. The wonderful coat.
"Now for some shoes…" he mumbled to himself, wandering over to the shelves of shoes.
Wait, was that a circle?
The Time Lord back-tracked, having a second glance at the shoes in question.
Wow.
Those are cool.
Overjoyed, he plucked the battered Converse from the shelf. The circular logo seemed to glow with a heavenly light.
"Fantastic…" he breathed. Finally, something that could restore his previous coolness!
Freshly shod, he hopped over to the mirror.
"Not too bad… Not ginger, but perfectly acceptable… There was just something… Missing. Sticking his hands into the wonderful coat's pockets he felt an odd shape.
What the…
Glasses!
Sliding them onto the bridge of his nose, the Doctor beamed.
Maybe stripes aren't so bad after all…
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