Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor, and I'm sure he'd be either horrified or tickled to be associated with this one!
A/N 1: This wasn't exactly a "plot bunny," more like a "magic plot caterpillar." I tried to resist. Honestly, I did.
A/N 2: My sincerest apologies to Mr. Carroll, Mr. Depp, Mr. Burton, and anyone else I may have offended here!
A/N 3: Rose fans. I beg you. Please. Skip this one. Really.
One – The Room
The room was dark and stuffy. The woman on the floor slowly opened her eyes and groaned. She sat up and looked around, holding her head. Where the hell was she?
Donna Noble pulled herself up, got to her feet, and walked around the room. Where had they landed now? "Doctor?" she called out, but got no answer. "What's that silly Martian up to?" she muttered to herself. "At least it's not a prison cell this time."
As she walked, Donna noticed something very curious about the room she was in: there only seemed to be one door, not more than fifteen inches high, at the base of one wall. "That can't be the only way out!" she cried. After confirming that this was indeed the case, she knelt down and tried the tiny doorknob, only to shriek in frustration. "Of course! The only bloody door in the place and it's locked!"
She prowled around the room, getting more agitated as she went. Finally she stopped herself, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Letting it out, she slowly opened her eyes. And was amazed to see a three-legged table in the centre of the room, a table she was certain had not been there before. On it was a tiny gold key and a bottle.
"Oh, I get it now," she said. "He's playing 'Hide and Seek'. Or 'Treasure Hunt'. He is such a child sometimes! Oh, just you wait 'til I catch up with you, Time Boy!" She picked up the tiny key and put it in the pocket of the white apron she was wearing. Looking at the bottle, she noticed a ribbon with a paper tag that read "DRINK ME" in bold letters.
"Hmm," she mused. "The Doctor wouldn't leave me anything harmful, and I am a bit parched. So I reckon I'd better drink this and see what happens." Raising the bottle to her nose, she sniffed it first and, not detecting any noxious odours, she held it to lips and touched a tiny drop to her tongue. She trusted the Doctor but still had enough of her own native caution to not just leap into anything.
The liquid that touched her tongue was a curious mixture of flavours: cherry tart, custard, roast turkey, hot buttered toast and, surprisingly, banana. Feeling no immediate ill effects, she muttered, "What the hell!" and downed the entire contents. At first nothing seemed to happen. Then gradually she noticed that the table was getting taller. Actually, it just seemed that way. She was, in fact, growing smaller. Her miniaturization stopped when she reached a height of one foot.
"Well, that was interesting!" she said, noting that, somehow, her clothing had shrunk along with her body. "Maybe this silly blue dress and pinafore are the opposite of bigger on the inside," she laughed.
She made her way over to the door, which was now full sized in comparison to herself. She drew the key from her pocket and tried it. The lock clicked, the knob turned, and the door opened. Donna stepped out into a garden filled with amazing flowers, some several feet tall. There were orchids and mums, peonies and primroses, anemones and wild daisies. Flowers that grew in vastly different climates are all growing side-by-side, and she was astonished at the variety and quantity of the plants.
As she started down the path through the fields of flowers, suddenly a white rabbit darted in front of her, pulled a watch out of its waistcoat pocket, and muttered, "Oh, dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!" and dashed off down the path.
Donna just stared as the rabbit disappeared. "Well, isn't that just wizard?" she exclaimed. "I'm supposed follow the furry little bugger now, I guess." She sighed and strode quickly in the direction the rabbit had gone.
Two – The Queen
After a long while, she came to a very large expanse of beautifully manicured green lawn. She stopped and looked carefully at the scene before her. Dotting the lawn were small spiny creatures very much like hedgehogs, although these were bright yellow. Bordering the lawn on three sides were enormous rose bushes, all of which were covered in red flowers.
As she stood there watching, a group of young men in yellow coveralls with a large pink heart on the chest came scurrying out with paint pots and brushes, and began to hurriedly cover the flowers with pink and yellow paints. Muttering to themselves about mad queens, they raced from bush to bush, trying to coat as many as they could.
Suddenly, a loud trumpet blast sounded, startling both the young men and Donna. She watched as an crowd of people processed onto the lawn, bowing and fawning over a figure at the end of the entourage. A young blonde woman, in a pink gown festooned with yellow hearts and wearing a gaudy oversized crown flounced her way toward the centre of the lawn. She stopped behind one of the hedgehogs and put out a hand toward one of the many people who had followed her. The frightened young woman hastily handed her a pink flamingo.
The blousy blonde tucked the flamingo under one arm and advanced on the poor unsuspecting hedgehog. She took a huge swing and, thankfully, missed by a mile. "Bugger!" she screamed and began smacking the woman who had given her the flamingo. The hedgehog took that opportunity to scurry out of the path of destruction.
Donna walked onto the lawn and toward the crowd. As she approached, a hush fell over the crowd. The blonde woman ceased her harangue of the poor maid and turned to Donna, looking her up and down. "I don't know you! Who are you?" she demanded, "and what are you doing on my lawn?"
"Oi!" Donna retorted. "Don't take that tone with me. I'm Donna. Who are you supposed to be?"
The blonde was startled. No one ever spoke back her, ever. "For your information, I am Rose, the Queen of all Underland!" she declared haughtily.
"Oh, so that's where I am," Donna muttered. "Explains a lot, actually." Turning to Rose, she asked, "Aren't you the Queen of Hearts?"
"Of course," Rose sniffed. "And Queen of all Underland!" she repeated, as if Donna hadn't heard her the first time.
"But isn't everything supposed to be red? You know? As in hearts! And your hair? Since when is the Queen of Hearts a blonde?"
"I prefer pink and yellow. And as Queen, I can have everything exactly the way I like. As for my hair," Rose stared at Donna, "Everyone knows that blonde is better than anything else. Especially ginger! Ugh! I would rather be dead than be a ginger!" she sneered. "You haven't answered my question. What are you doing on my lawn?" She stamped her feet angrily.
Donna was already cheesed off at this self-centred little chav but thought it couldn't hurt to ask. "Actually, I'm looking for a friend of mine. Tall, skinny bloke, crazy hair. Talks a lot. Calls himself The Doctor. Have you seen him around?"
"Like I would tell you, you rude ginger tart," Rose retorted. "Now get out of my way. I have a game of croquet to play." She turned to her flamingo carriers and cried, "Allons-y!" and started off.
Donna grabbed her by the arm and cried, "That's his favourite expression. Where did you hear it? Where is he?"
Rose pulled her arm away and spat back at her, "Like I said. I am the Queen of all Underland and everything in it belongs to me! Including the Doctor! Now, I can't have you upsetting my little kingdom, so," she turned to her retainers and screamed at the top of her voice, "OFF WITH HER HEAD!"
"Oh, belt up, Blondie," Donna snapped at her. "You may think you're all that, but trust me. You're just a spoiled little girl. So get over yourself," she finished, and pushed her away. Unbeknownst to either of them, the hedgehog had run up behind Rose and, as she stumbled backwards, she tripped over the poor creature and went tumbling, her crown falling down over her eyes and wedging firmly against her head. She struggled to pull it off, rolling about on the grass, staining her pink gown.
Donna was startled to see the hedgehog give her a sly wink. The Queen's entourage silently motioned her to get away before the Queen regained her bearings. Donna mouthed a sincere 'thank you' and took off running down the path.
Three – The Cat
She finally slowed down about fifteen minutes later, when she was certain there was no one pursuing her. At least she had confirmed that the Doctor was around somewhere. As she stopped to catch her breath, she perused the trees that lined the path. Suddenly, a large, very muscular striped cat appeared out of nowhere directly in front of her on an overhanging branch, startling her.
"Hey there, gorgeous!" the cat crooned, a cheeky grin taking up most of its face.
"Crikey!" Donna exclaimed. "You gave me fright! Where'd you come from?"
The Cat swished his tail languorously, licking his paws and preening. "Well, darlin', I come from all over. I've been in every part of Underland, and some more than once, if you get my drift," he drawled in his American voice, giving her a saucy wink.
Donna's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I've heard of you. You're one of those Sexshire Cats, ain'tcha?" She reached out to touch him, but he promptly de-materialized.
"Oi!" Donna called out.
The Cat slowly reappeared on the branch of another tree further down the path. "I see my reputation precedes me," he replied. "Care to come back to my lair and see my etchings?" he purred, extending a well manicured paw in her direction.
She laughed at the thought. "Thanks," she replied, "but I am actually looking for someone. You said you'd been all over this place. Have you come across someone calling himself 'The Doctor'?"
The Sexshire Cat smiled coyly, licked his lips seductively, and rumbled in his throat, "Maybe I have. Maybe I haven't."
Donna huffed and stormed over to the tree in which the Cat sat. "Listen, Sunshine. I haven't got time for this. I need to find the Doctor and get the hell out of this daft place." She grabbed him by the tail before he could vanish again and held on tightly. "So. Are you gonna help me or not?"
"Ooo," he growled. "That feels soooo nice! I like the rough stuff! Stroke me again, Red!"
Donna yanked his tail sharply, knocking him off the branch. "I'll stroke you right into next Tuesday if you don't stop it and answer me!"
"All right. All right," he pouted, grooming his tail. "You don't have to get physical. Although…." He looked up at her expectantly.
Donna laughed at the sheer cheek of him. "You're incorrigible, you are!" She petted his head softly. "Please," she said. "I really need to find him. Can you, will you, help me?"
The Cat purred loudly at her ministrations. "Oh, I am such a sucker for a beautiful woman. I hope the Doc appreciates what he's got." He sat straight up and pointed down the path, indicating the right-hand turning. "There is a Tea Party going on down there. If he's not there, they'll surely know where he gone." He walked over and rubbed his flank against her legs. "If you don't find him, promise you'll come back for me?"
"Oh, go away, you daft thing!" she chuckled and headed down the path.
Four - The Tea Party
Donna fairly raced down toward the location indicated by the Sexshire Cat. As she got closer, she could hear voices and the clinking of china. A maniacal cackle rent the air, followed by a sharp thud, as if a heavy body hit the ground. She ran toward the noise and was brought up sharply at the sight.
A long table stood in front of a shabby house and was littered with the remains of a meal and much broken crockery. On one side of the table lay a Dormouse, who appeared to have fallen asleep with her head inside an enormous teacup. Next to her was the strangest Hare she had ever seen, pulling himself back into his chair. He wore a black hoodie, and had bleached blonde fur that stood up in spikes between his ears, and a squinty eyed grin on his face. It was from him that the cackle had issued, and he did it again as Donna made her way toward them.
But it was the man at the head of the table that made her stop short. The Doctor, in his wrinkled brown pinstriped suit, stood on his chair, his sonic screwdriver in one hand and a teacup in the other. His hair was longer, very wavy, and a peculiar shade of red. Sitting atop the mop of ginger curls was a large, battered, green velvet top hat. He was in the process of zapping his tea with the sonic when Donna approached.
"There you are!" she cried out, and strode purposefully toward him.
The Doctor dropped his teacup, shattering it without noticing, and replaced his sonic in his pocket. "DONNA!" he called out in a curiously Scottish brogue, jumping off the chair and rushing toward her. "Ye found us! Ye clever, clever girl!" He turned to the Hare, who was muttering into his cup. "See? Dinna I tell ye she'd find me! She's brilliant, she is!"
"Yes, yes. Brilliant. You said so. Repeatedly," he grumbled. "Give me back my laser screwdriver and we'll just see how brilliant she is then!"
"Master!" the Doctor barked at him. "Don't make me put ye back inside the Time-Locked Teapot!" he warned, sternly.
The Master Hare quailed in his chair. "Oh, no! Not the Time-Locked Teapot! Anything but that!" He scrambled across the table, knocking cups and saucers around, and grabbed at the Doctor's hand. "Please! I'll behave! But the drums! The drums! Make them stop!"
The Doctor pulled his hand free and gestured to a group of badgers on a nearby hillock. They were a small drum and bugle corps, and were practicing a marching routine for the Queen's next bash. At the signal from the Doctor, they put down their sticks and horns, took out a sack lunch, and sprawled on the grass to eat.
Donna watched all of this in amazement and growing annoyance. When the Doctor reached her, she stared at him for a moment and then asked, "What have you got on your head?"
"This?" he fingered the velvet construction. "It's a top hat. Top hats are cool!" he exclaimed proudly.
"No. They're not." She shook her head and sighed. "Look. This little game has been fun for a while, but I've been running all over and I'm tired. Can we go back to the TARDIS now?"
"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" he asked her in return.
"What?"
"Why is a raven like a writing desk? Oh, come on, Donna.," he pleaded. "It's a riddle."
Donna glared at him. "I don't give a flippin' fig why a bloody raven is like a bloody writing desk!" she shouted.
The Master Hare giggled. "Got quite the mouth on her, doesn't she? I can see why you like her!"
"Donna!" the Doctor whined. "Ye've got to guess the riddle!" He reached out to take hold of her shoulder, but she pulled away quickly.
"I don't want to guess the riddle. I just want to go home. I've had enough of this madness!"
She turned to walk away, when suddenly her way was blocked by the disembodied head of the Sexshire Cat. "Oh! But Donna," he declared saucily. "We're all mad here!"
Pushing him aside with a growl, Donna stormed down the path, the Doctor shouting her name over and over behind her. "Donna! DONNA!"
Five - Epilogue
"Donna? Donna? Wake up, love." The Doctor gently shook his heavily pregnant wife. He was lounging on the settee in the media room, with Donna's head in his lap, softly stroking her long ginger hair. She had been scowling and grumbling in her sleep, tossing restlessly. She slowly opened her eyes, and he smiled sweetly at her. "Are you okay? Are the twins giving you fits?" he asked, putting a concerned hand on her swollen belly.
She covered his hand with hers and relaxed as together they caressed the dwelling place of their soon-to-be-born Time Lord twin boys. His touch always had a calming effect and she sighed in contentment. "No. The boys are fine. I just had the strangest dream," she said, as he helped her to sit up more comfortably.
"Want to tell me about it?" he prodded gently.
"Oh, it's just silliness." Seeing his eager face, and knowing how much he'd probably enjoy it, she proceeded to describe her dream. "I'm not sure I care for the ginger curls," she concluded, ruffling his tousled mop of brown hair, "but the Scottish brogue was rather nice."
"Aye? Do ye think so now, lassie?" he replied in a fine imitation of his voice in her dream, grinning like the Cat. "I dunna 'bout ye, but I think we need tae lay off the Tim Burton marathons fer a wee bit!"
Donna laughed. "You're probably right about that." She sank back into the cool firmness of his chest, her head on his shoulder, his one arm tucked around her waist, the other lying protectively across her burgeoning pregnancy. They sat there in silence for a while, just enjoying the comfort of each other's body. "Husband?" she called softly.
"Hmmm?" he answered, his face buried in her hair.
"I think the twins need ice cream."
He chuckled in her hair. He would do anything for her, his brilliant, beautiful wife, and their sons, and she knew it. "They do, huh? Well, we can't deprive them, can we?" He gently untangled himself from her body and headed for the kitchen. He had just reached the lounge door when she called out, "Theta?"
He turned back. "Yes, dearest?"
"Promise me something."
"Anything."
"Never, ever, wear a hat!"
He laughed loudly and left. Donna giggled as she heard him reciting as he walked down the hall: "'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogroves and the mome raths outgrabe."