Fandoms: Down Periscope, Doctor Who
Characters: Tom Dodge, Any Doctor (Eleventh)
Prompt: There's a little more to the story than getting drunk and waking up with a tattoo.
Prompt Made By: I. H. Scribe
Disclaimer: I don't own the following series(es) or any character(s) that follow, and unless I. H. Scribe is listed after Prompt Made By chances are I don't own the idea for this story either.
There was a little more to the story than getting drunk and waking up with a tattoo.
Not that anyone else would ever hear the full story. Dodge liked not getting thrown in an insane asylum, thank you very much. And telling people he was abducted by an alien in a blue police box was likely to get him thrown out of the Navy if not locked up.
He did get drunk, very drunk. So drunk in fact, he stumbled into a blue police box and passed out. When he woke up, with one hell of a hangover, he met the strangest man he'd ever met.
"Hello, I'm the Doctor, just the Doctor," the man said, gleefully.
"Tom Dodge."
"Nice to meet you Tommy-boy, let's go!"
"What? Where?" The Doctor grabbed him by the arm and dragged him outside, where the light from the suns made his headache even worse.
Wait.
Suns?
Dodge squinted at the sky. Sure enough, there were three suns, two tiny blue ones, and one large yellowish-red one. "There are three."
"What?"
"Three," Dodge said, pointing towards the sky.
"Oh, yes. Well of course there's three suns. This is Amacapatrillion. It's always had three suns. Look! Poomas!"
Dodge looked. Poomas, apparently, were some sort of elephant-sized, bright pink cross between a llama and a cat. Dodge decided he was hallucinating.
Then he decided to just go with it.
After Amacapatrillion came Pitacruz, Tamidean, and the Newly Found Party Moon of Poosh, all of which, Dodge noticed, had constant parties. The Doctor bounced from place to place, excited like a kid in a candy store, but Dodge had noticed something else too.
The Doctor was running from something.
Dodge wasn't sure what, but as long as the next party had those awesome multi-colored drinks that Pitacruz had, he wouldn't ask what. Dodge was running too, from the embarrassment of brushing up against that Russian submarine.
After the Newly Found Party Moon of Poosh, the Doctor decided to bring a friend – one that apparently wasn't a blue head in a box – with them, "You'd like him. Well, maybe not. He's Army not Navy. And also from a different country. Nah, you'll like him."
The Doctor finally managed to get through to his friend, or someone at his house, and his face fell. "When? Oh. That's. I understand. Thank you."
He was silent for a few minutes after he hung up the phone, then turned to Dodge and said, "I need a drink."
Both of them got so drunk they were giggling like little girls.
"Oooh! I know!" the Doctor said. "We should get tattoos. I'm gonna get, uh, I don't know yet, but I know what you should get."
The Doctor whispered it in his ear. The two of them looked at each other, and then burst out laughing. When they calmed down, they strolled off to the closest tattoo parlour, leaning on each other to keep steady.
Dodge woke up in his own bed, with another hangover. He groaned as the need to relieve himself made itself known. Moving made his headache worse. He tried to remember what happened, and assumed the few memories he did have of a mad man in a blue box was a dream. As Dodge relieved himself, he noticed a black mark. Only it wasn't a black mark. It was words.
Welcome Aboard! was written out in loopy writing on his penis. It hadn't been a dream after all.
Well, shit.
Takes place before the Eleventh Doctor goes to Lake Silencio to convince everyone he was dead with a robot duplicate.
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I. H. Scribe