Hello, this is my first posted Doctor Who story.
Don't be kind. I raked it for flaws but I can only do so much and, as every writer knows, you can never catch all the flaws alone.
It's just a little something I thought up one day.
Disclaimer: I think these are necessary. Here goes. I do not (unfortunately) own the series known as Doctor Who; they belong to BBC and some other lucky buggers. If I did Stephen Moffat wouldn't have gotten rid of Rose and the Doctor would have gotten a better reward than the lame one they gave him, like Rose.
Anyway, enjoy. And feel free to give constructive/deconstructive criticism, or just type random words, it's all welcome and appreciated.
ANM
A hint to my moniker: Say it fast.
The Tyler Manor of the universe that would, in the future, be affectionately termed "Pete's world," was as it always was at 4 am, dead asleep. The hour for the last party goers to have stumbled blearily out of the doors, or, as was the case with this party, run screaming from death in a metal suit, had long come and gone.
So it was that no one was around to witness the materialization of a blue box on the lawn except the aforementioned metal suits, also known as Cybermen, and now entirely useless, and their fortunate victims lying abandoned on the ground; as the clean up services, or the morgue and metal yards, had yet to claim the remains. The victims were fortunate in that they had died while still retaining their humanity, unlike thier formerly human attackers. The only person in the house, aside from the surviving staff, which are unimportant, was the owner, Pete Tyler, lately widowed by the Cybermen.
Pete Tyler was at this moment asleep on the chair in his study, where, two hours prior to the appearance of the blue box, he had sat resolutely determined that he would never sleep again. So it was also that no one saw the box open and a tall man in a leather jacket, combat boots, sporting a moody disposition worthy of Eddie Vetter step out. His name, as most already know, is the Doctor. In a most Doctor-like fashion, he had heard the distress signal emanating from his favorite planet and hurried to save it, even this regeneration, still ravaged by the Time War held a soft spot for the primitive and backwater humanoids.
Unfortunately for the Doctor he not only arrived too late to save his precious planet, and adopted species, but it had already been saved by his unknown parallel-self from another dimension, along with the sleeping owner of the lawn he was currently parked on, and said owners hereto unknown parallel daughter with his childless wife whom he had been mourning, before he fell asleep that is.
The Doctor stepped back inside after a quick overview of the surroundings. He had obviously not intended to land at that point in time, two days after the initial invasion and a few hours after its culmination and the apparent victory for "the good guys." He paced around the consol, pressing buttons and observing the alien script that ran across the monitors for a minute with a frown on his face. With a curse in the same alien language which fell fluidly from his tongue and would have sounded musical were it not for the manner it was said in, he began to fiddle with first a lever that looked suspiciously like a door knob and flicked a few switches after typing furiously for a moment. The main column had just begun to power up when a noise outside stopped him. He slammed him hand quickly on the console and the power died. There was a faint scratching coming from outside. He stalked to the door with a thunderous expression on his face and opened it quickly.
Nothing.
For a moment the Doctor stood there confused, before a whimper sounded at his feet. A little white dog sat on the wet and trampled grass. It had a splotch of blood on its otherwise impeccably groomed fur and an offensively pink, rhinestone encrusted collar. For a moment the Doctor considered shutting the door and continuing onward in the universe but something in the dog's eyes stopped him. They were hazel and sad. He couldn't help but empathize with the poor creature; it had obviously lost someone tonight, or even more it might have witnessed the horrifying event.
He weighed the options for a second. He couldn't logically take a dog with him, what would he do with it. It wasn't a proper companion, not that he had had many proper companions. What would he feed it? Could the TARDIS even make dog food? Where would it stay? Would it be safe to take on adventures with him? How would he keep the dog safe? What if he ended up on Thaxel 5 where dogs were illegal, or the Miggens, who thought dogs a delicacy? Or Barcelona, where they had no noses? One more look, however, sealed the deal, as the little thing wagged its tail in a hopeful manner and stood placing its little paws on his pants leg. "Alright!" He said aloud, nearly starling himself. "You can come along." When the dog just looked at him expectantly he sighed and bent to pick it up. The dog wiggled happily against his leather jacket and licked his face with abandon. He smiled for one of the first times since the all to recent pain of the Time War. Maybe those daft humans had it right all along with dogs. Maybe a dog was a Time Lord's best friend.
"What's your name?" He asked the little thing as he set it down on the jump seat where it wagged its tail and took his jacket sleeve into its mouth and tugged. "None of that." He picked it up again and fingered the expensive looking collar and fished the heart shaped tag with a diamond on one corner out from underneath her fur. He assumed it was a girl, what sadistic beast would give their male dog this obscene thing. "Rose." It was a pretty name, he liked it, for some reason the name conjured up hazel eyes and blonde hair, just for a moment, it fit her perfectly. "Nice to meet you, Rose, I'm the Doctor."
