...I freaking hate my computer sometimes... If any of this sci-fi lingo doesn't fit in with the typical Dr. Who stuff, it's because I've only ever seen the ninth-eleventh Doctors, plus a smattering of the first. And my computer's too jacked up to research certain things to make this sound more Doctor Whoish. If the Doctor sounds stupid, it's my fault, and my computer's.
The black halls were draped with blood red velvet, tapestries sewn with the most brilliant colors with golden tassles depicted bloody battles and mythical creatures, some of which even the Doctor had only ever heard of in stories. Donna waited impatiently for the Doctor to come away from one, tapping her booted foot on the glassy floor and glaring at him through red bangs.
"B-but that's physically impossible!" he sputtered, studying one of the pictures the only way the Doctor could study something, sonic screwdriver humming and eyes squinting through a pair of glasses he wore only to make himself look intelligent. "The Karlath were defeated in battles a millenium ago! No one could possibly know what they looked like!"
"It's an artist's rendering, Doctor," Donna rolled her eyes, staring at the door before them. The hall ended in a cul-de-sac, a dark wooden table stood in the corner, comfortably housing a small ceramic vase from which drooped red flowers. The smell of sweetness permeated the air with a thickness that couldn't possibly have been coming from the withering flowers before her. "Think we're allowed in?"
"That ever stop you before?" the Doctor muttered, but he put away the brainy specs and joined her at the door. He was about to open it when a man's voice came from behind them.
"Oh, Doctor!" the man wore a grin on his face that lightened a chiseled exteror as he held out his hand. "So pleased to meet you, sorry I couldn't get to you earlier... technical difficulties with the staff... Ferdinand Kingshire, at your service, sir!"
"No, no 'sirs'," the Doctor shook his head, feeling rather uncomfortable around this man bursting with energy.
"Hey, he could beat you in a gob-contest I'll bet," Donna elbowed him slightly.
"And is this your lovely assistant?" Ferdinand turned to her, the same light in his dark eyes, but a more charming grin on his face. "That I've heard so much about, Donna Noble? Let me tell you, the next time I know a woman is coming with the Doctor, I'll make sure to cancel all previous arrangements. He has very good taste." He kissed the back of her hand as a light pink rose to her cheeks.
"You could take lessons," the Doctor's only reply was a snort and a roll of his eyes.
"Ferdinand, my TARDIS lands in the middle of a wasteland where you just happen to want to see me and happen to have a hologram point set there," the Doctor said flatly. "I can't help but think that maybe you're the reason she's currently stuck. And if there's one thing I don't like, it's people mucking about with my TARDIS."
"I assure you, Doctor," Ferdinand's enthusiastic face took a more serious turn. "There is a rhyme and reason for it, and my men will have your TARDIS running as soon as possible..." at a more smoldering, quiet-anger stare from the Doctor, he quickly added, "under your supervision and direction, of course."
"Of course," the Doctor said quietly.
"Now, as dinner may take some time, I'll have Servitude show you to your rooms..."
"Rooms?" the Doctor asked quickly, a frown settling over his eyes and mouth.
Ferdinand glanced between the Doctor and Donna, "Ah, I didn't realize; I am sorry Doctor, you didn't strike me as the married type..."
"No no no no!" They both hurried to correct him. "No, definitely not, no!" The Doctor went so far as to make a face, sticking his tongue out almost comically, and Donna looking ready to be ill.
"He just gets TARDIS-sick," Donna laughed as the Doctor shot her an affronted look. "The only one the Martian's married to is that ship."
"I am sorry for the miscalculation, then," Ferdinand apoligized. "The rooms, of course, are on either sides of the hall through this door. Servitude will show you the way." As the Doctor followed Donna and Servitude, who had appeared on the other side of the door, Ferdinand smiled. "After all, Doctor, a TARDIS isn't fixed in a day."
