Hello!
This is going to be a short collection of one shots, all of which featuring the Doctor (11th incarnation), and each having a protagonist from various fandoms; the Doctor is looking across the universes to help them, with his power of Time Travel and wackiness.
Hope you enjoy reading!
The room was dimly lit and practically silent – save for the harsh, repetitive smacks punctuating the air like gunshots.
The cause of the sounds stood barely feet away from the punch bag, sweat trickling the side of his face, with his head bowed in concentration towards his target. He shifted his feet, flexed his hand and prepared his aim once more… but something made him falter, his fist inches away from the still swinging bag.
Steve Rogers straightened, his eyes scanning the area for the source of the sound that had drifted to his attention. It grew louder at each passing second; it sounded mechanical, yet somehow like deep, ragged breaths…
A light breeze played at his hair – and the cause of such seemed to, materialise, before Steve's very eyes.
A large, blue, police telephone box looked to be making its appearance in the middle of the gym. Steve's brow furrowed; it had his full attention.
"Tony… is that you?" A grin hitched up across Steve's face; Tony Stark and Bruce Banner got up to all sorts of things in their labs – he hoped they would be behind this kind of thing. Them or S.H.I.E.L.D., of course.
The box silenced (for that was what Steve assumed to be conjuring the noise), and for a moment Steve stood there, half expecting Tony or Bruce (or someone) to show their face.
At last, the door of the box opened with a creak; but the character of whom stepped out did little to trigger any recognition.
The stranger was a tall, young man, wearing a tweed jacket and black trousers; his hair was a dark, unkempt quiff, and the face to go with it was incredibly angular (and rather lacking in eyebrows, oddly). Yet, his expression bore a wide, childish grin, and the man's arms extended as he waved over towards Steve.
"Hello, Cap! It's been a while."
"Sorry, but – who are you?"
"Just call me the Doctor," the strange man introduced. He sounded British.
"Doctor?" Steve repeated quizzically. His eyes darted to the box behind this so called 'Doctor'. "Your box says 'Police'."
"So it does," the man agreed with mild surprise; he lifted his brow. "It would seem I can't outsmart the great Captain America."
"Do I know you?"
"Not yet, no," the Doctor answered – a little unhelpfully, in Steve's opinion. "You don't seem overly surprised about a box appearing out of nowhere, or how a strange man managed to subsequently step out from it."
"I've seen a good few things in my time," Steve replied. "I'm kinda accustomed to surprises by this point."
The Doctor laughed. "Yes, well; that's very true," he muttered with a nod.
Steve inclined his head curiously to the side. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"Earth? No."
"I meant America."
The Doctor faltered. "Ah."
"I guess it still answered the question… in a sense." Steve folded his arms and squared his shoulders, narrowing his eyes over at the Doctor. "What exactly have you come here for?"
At this, the Doctor's face lit up. He darted quickly over, to stand directly opposite Steve, and rubbed his hands together in excitement. "To take you, on a trip."
"A trip?" Steve was unconvinced. "Where? And, why?"
"I think 'when' would be a slightly more accurate question," the Doctor advised, "and as for why – well… you don't want to be late, do you?"
"Late for what," Steve asked, an impatient tone now lilted to his voice.
Whether the Doctor noticed this, Steve couldn't tell – if he did, then he simply ignored it. "A dance. The dance. 8pm sharp. Remember?"
Steve frowned. He felt as though he had an idea as to where this was going, but was wary to speak his thoughts aloud.
"You don't want to keep Miss Carter waiting, do you?"
Steve froze. It wasn't simply the matter that this man was suggesting something impossible – it was how he'd got that information.
"How the hell did you know about that?"
The Doctor's beaming smile wavered. "…What?"
"That's private information!"
"Oh… yes, about that…"
Steve glared over towards the man, awaiting an explanation.
"You told me."
Steve halted; his suddenly erratic breathing shuddered to a sudden stop, and he frowned, confused. "No I didn't," he said carefully.
"Well – no – not now, you didn't," the Doctor explained. "A little later in your time."
Steve swallowed, trying to understand. "You realise you sound completely crazy, right?"
"Oh, but of course," the Doctor grinned. "Look, I'll explain on the way."
"On the way where?"
"Miss Carter! Your dance!"
"But that's impossible!" Steve retorted.
"For you, yes – but with me: not at all." The Doctor folded his arms. "I'll give it to you short – and you don't have to believe a single word, but I know what you've faced, I know what you've seen, and I'd expect for Steve Rogers to believe my story after all of that. Of course, there's also the advantage of seeing Peggy again."
"But… surely, that would mess up what's already happened in the past?"
"You're catching on," the Doctor praised. "But yeah, it'll probably not turn out too well… but then again, nothing ever really does. The problems of time travel, eh?"
Steve stared over towards the Doctor, who had spun around on his heel and was now striding over towards the blue box. "Did – did you say, time travel?"
"Well, we're not exactly going to get there by car, are we? Use your head, Steve."
"So, this box…?"
"Is a time machine, yes," the Doctor finished for him. "And she's absolutely brilliant. So don't be rude to her; otherwise we might not get to the right time or place…"
Steve's brow furrowed; he watched the Doctor push the door open to the box and step inside. He glanced warily around him. Was this really a good idea?
"Come on then," the Doctor encouraged, gesturing Steve over.
"One trip – and then, you can bring me back," Steve said. "Back here?"
"Almost definitely," the Doctor nodded.
"That 'almost' doesn't fill me with too much confidence," Steve muttered. He shrugged. "But alright." He made his way over; the Doctor stepped further within his ship and kept the door open for him.
Steve reached the front of the box, and peered inside.
"Bloody hell," Steve exclaimed.
"Language, Rogers: the Tardis doesn't appreciate it," the Doctor warned with a grin.
"Sorry," Steve whispered; a chorus of echoes sent the apology across the wide, rounded room, and the Tardis (as the Doctor said) hummed her thanks. "You know, it's usually me who says that," Steve said with a small smile.
"Close the door behind you," the Doctor requested; Steve did so as he walked on in. "So then," the Doctor exclaimed, with a grand wave of his arms. "Whilst we travel, I'll explain the basics."
"The basics?" Steve rose an eyebrow. "Basics doesn't exactly qualify here."
"Yeah, well…" The Doctor winced guiltily. He shook off the thought, donned a broad smile, and said, "Anyway, first things first: hold on to something tightly." He dashed back over to the console of the Tardis, and grabbed hold of a hefty lever. He craned his neck back over towards Steve, who had a firm grip on the handrails. "You ready to see Peggy?"
Steve grinned; the Doctor took that as a yes. "Alright then," he yelled, and pulled heavily down upon the lever. "Geronimo!"