First of many to come; think of them as little episodes. Anyway, told from a side-characters POV rather than the Doctor's. Thought it would be something new and cool to try. Enjoy :)
Music everywhere. Dancing, liquor, sweat, laughter. This is what I was born into; this was where I lived. And boy, did I live happily. I was the bastard product of two very well-known dancers. My mother and father weren't married; hell they didn't even know each other. But I guess that's what you should expect from a bunch of gypsies.
Life was easy before the Doctor came; before he came and promised me the stars. It started out like any other; I woke up, put on a dress, re-arranged the mop on my head, and re-entered the "tavern" I worked at. Men grabbing at me, pulling my skirt, with none less than a mug of our finest beer dunked over their heads accomplished by yours truly. Life was good.
Our ship had been cold for some years now. Abesoloma, the ring leader if you would, explained that most of the fuel was gone, which no one cared much about. It just simply meant that it was time for us to actually fulfill our duties as gypsies and actually steal some stuff. So, for the past few years we've been drinking, mating, and stealing from the universe with little to show. But hey, that's how it works.
Or did work, until we sucked that little blue box into our ship's hold. But oh no, we were not planning on using it for its fuel; Abesoloma just liked it's color.
"It'll be my new outhouse," he smiled upon viewing it on the radar. "A throne for a king." He'd joke. And so it was that I met this Doctor, coming kicking and screaming out of his not-so-little blue box, dragged by his arms by two of our beefiest guys.
"I demand it back, you are being very unfair!" He protested, awkwardly trying to separate himself from the bodyguards.
"What, this ol' thing?" Abesoloma twirled a red cylinder on his finger, following it with a grin. A fez. A stupid old fez. "So you can take yer little box and go; so long as I get this," he jeered, placing it on his head.
"No!" Cried the man, flinching as the fez landed on my leader's head. "Anything but the fez."
"Even that new outhouse?"
"Outhouse?" The man froze. "My TARDIS!? Bloody well she'll contain your…waste!" Abesoloma rocked with laughter.
"Oh, it's a she is it. 'ell I'm sure she'll be well acquainted with me by the time I'm done with her!" The room shook with approval; yelling, laughter, shouting, music bursting in random chords. Abesoloma waved it away with amusement. "Well, seeing as our esteemed guest is being cooperative, we'll let him consider his offer in the pipes. On you go, chaps." With that the clatter renewed and Abesoloma caught me, taking me by the arm out to the halls.
"You'll watch 'em good for me, won't ya? I know I can trust you."
"Yea, sure. Just as long as he don't try anything funny." I agreed.
"No problem," he said, flashing his discolored teeth. "I snagged his green flashy thingy while he was too busy begging for this god-forsaken fez." With that, he gave the fez a twirl and continued down the hall, whistling his favorite "Romanian Wind."