A/N: Hey! This is just a little oneshot about Osgood and her lovely scarf. While watching "The Day of the Doctor" one morning, my younger sister came up with this idea and asked me to write it. And I know that the Doctor would never give away his scarf, but, like I said, it's for my sister. Enjoy and review please! Seriously, REVIEW!
Osgood entered her flat, silently closing the door behind her. She went through the normal, everyday routine of taking off her coat and shoes and placing them at the coat tree that she kept at the door. But today, another item was added. As she draped the long, multi-colored scarf several times over the hooks on the coat tree, she recalled how she came to own such an object.
She had worked for the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, or U.N.I.T. as they liked to be called, for around three years now. (Honestly, to her, it just sounded like they called it that just so that they could abbreviate it to sound like that.) This job brought her to many different , it brought her to the relatively uneventful place of the National Gallery in London.
They recently acquired some paintings from the Royal Archives and there were some particularly distinctive ones. They were speculating about whether to call in a specialist to analyze them, of whom Osgood didn't know the identity, but in the meantime, it was her job to oversee the installation and security of the paintings. Usually it wasn't necessary to call in U.N.I.T., but these were unusual.
She'd headed to the offices in the Gallery building to meet with the curator. Of what she knew, he was an eccentric old man who mostly wandered around inspecting the collections while eating jelly babies. Osgood opened the door with the plaque marked "The Great Curator", she had thought odd of that at first but it was dismissed when she saw the man it referred to.
He was exactly as previously described to her. He had white hair and, even though he was seated, she could tell that he was rather tall. His eyes which were now staring at her curiously, were a bright blue and very distinctive. In fact, everything about this man was distinctive; from his curved nose to his wide smile.
Osgood then realized that he had still been staring at her. "Um, Hello there. I'm Osgood." He continued to stare so she felt the need to clarify. "From U.N.I.T.?"
His penetrating eyes bored into her for a few more long moments and she felt decidedly uncomfortable when he exclaimed with a grin, "Sorry! Yes. Yes. I was expecting you. Sit. Sit."
Without looking away, she sat down in a chair. "Yes. Um, I came to inform you that we are ready to install the paintings and to get your authorization. I was told that there was paperwork to be signed?" And then he was staring at her again. It had begun to unnerve her. "I'm sorry. Is there something wrong?"
Whatever he was thinking about was cut off by what she said and he spoke quickly to assure her. "No. I'm sorry, my dear. I am out of sorts today. Not quite myself." He chuckled and then frowned. "Which appears to be happening quite a bit now."
He stood and walked over to a filing cabinet where he opened a drawer and pulled out some papers which he handed to her. "There you go." She stood to leave when he stopped her.
"Ah, excuse me." She turned back to him. "But, I couldn't help but notice your clothing."
Osgood glanced down at her outfit which, today, happened to be made out of plaid trousers, a black suit coat, striped vest, and blue bowtie. "Yes, what about it?"
"It's just very…interesting. I used to know somebody who dressed like that and I was wondering…" He hesitated. Then, apparently giving in to one side of his internal argument, he strode over to his desk and opened a drawer out of which she could see him pull out a long scarf that seemed to go on forever. "I was wondering if you'd care for this." He held it out to her and she reached for it. She held it up to admire, thinking of something very similar that she'd seen in a file recently.
She looked up at the Curator and was surprised to see that his eyes were moist as he gazed at the article or clothing. What was really so important about a scarf?
He spoke suddenly. "I think…that perhaps it's time to let go of the past and move on to better things. Don't you agree?" His eyes snapped back up to hers. "Take care of that for me, won't you?"
She shook her head though and held it back out towards him. She couldn't possibly take something that clearly meant so much to him. She began to protest, "I-I ca-".
"Please." He insisted and pushed the scarf into her hands. "Please." His eyes looked so pleading she couldn't say no.
She nodded and replied. "Yes. Yes, of course." She reached again for the paperwork, tucked it under her arm and then turned for the door. She opened the door, but stopped and turned back to face the man. "Curator," He looked back up at her. "Thank you." With that, she left the office and went to write up that paperwork.
Now back in the present, she stopped staring at the scarf and went to prepare for bed.
And there ya go!
I was not quite sure how to get the Curator to give Osgood the scarf without making it too stupid. Most of my stuff usually ends up really sappy and unrealistic. So if it sounds absolutely ridiculous, do not blame it on me. My muse was my little sister, don't forget.
Anyway, review and let me know what you think. Honestly, I just started writing on this site and I am already begging for reviews. It feels awesome. REVIEW!