Lost, Mislaid, Misplaced... but not Dead! Part 3.
PG13 crack. Pure, shameless crack.
Not finished. Part One can be found here or here and part two here
Title: Lost, Mislaid, Misplaced… but not Dead!
Author: jaceyangel
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Tenth Doctor
Disclaimer: Nothing in this is mine. Not even the words. They belong to the Oxford English Dictionary. Or DO they? I only own the way in which I put all those words together.
Notes: It's crack. It's really really, just crack. It's terrible, but to me, highly amusing. Hopefully you all find it as amusing as I did when I started writing it... like 2+ years ago. Now that I'm a *real* teacher, I have no time for writing... so it is at 11.20pm on a Thursday night (late for me!) after parent/teacher interviews, that I finally get around to tackling part 3 of my epic crack fic.
The Doctor had a plan.
Jack, was his plan. The Doctor frowned. Or rather, Girlfriend Stealing Whore Jack was the plan. The Doctor hoped that he wasn't going to have to kill Jack for being a Girlfriend Stealing Whore, because Jack was quite important to his overall plan. (That is, Jack was THE plan, and that's as far as he'd gotten with the plan so far.)
The Doctor was also quite hopeful that Jack wasn't going to kill him. Because even though he could think up ten idioms for being dead (he'd nixed the deader than a doorknob because he didn't really like the word knob…) he wasn't keen to demonstrate any of those right now. He was however rather pleased that he was back to ten from eleven, because eleven as a number made him rather anxious, and caused him to sweat profusely. He'd contemplate the reasoning's behind this later on. After he'd saved Rose, himself and the universe.
So, The Doctor set course in his trusty spaceship (or was it time and space ship.. hmmm. That really didn't have the same ring to it as spaceship did, but The Doctor wasn't too concerned. He'd add that to the list of 'Things that Confuse Me', to figure out after he'd gotten Rose back, and screwed her against the wall. Or on a bed. Or a chair. Or the floor even. The Doctor really wasn't picky, as long as it involved Rose.)
But then… the Doctor stopped. The Doctor paused. The Doctor, had had another fantastic, brilliant… one of a kind, idea. He couldn't go back and knock up a random stranger (after all, what would Rose say about that?)… but WHAT IF, he went back in time to when Rose was traveling with his past self, and he knocked her up, and then went forward in time, collected the baby, wiped Rose's and his past self's memories, handed the baby over to Jack to raise for about 15 years, and then went and got and got it (because who knew if it'd be a boy or a girl) and it would help him save Rose, who was, coincidentally, it's mother.
Brilliant!
And that, the Doctor told himself, was why he was the guy with the plans. He was the plan man.
Maybe, he considered, he should change his name. Almost 1000 years as 'The Doctor' was becoming a little tiresome…. Perhaps, he should become 'The Plan Man!' Or not.
The Doctor appreciated a good cup of tea just as much as any other man (alien?), but really! Emptying the contents of a perfectly good mug of Earl Grey down the front of someone's shirt was a little bit too close to tea abuse for a man to be pleased about.
Granted, Jack (the girlfriend stealing whore that he was) had every reason to be annoyed. If the Doctor were in Jacks shoes, he'd be annoyed too. (And uncomfortable.)
Furious even. Jack had every right to be furious. The Doctor would be. Honestly. But he was pretty certain that he wouldn't have thrown a cup of tea at himself. (Obviously, because it was actually rather difficult to throw a cup of anything at oneself, unless cloning was involved. And that was a messy process, and never ended well.)
Jack looked... well, furious. 'You bloody idiot! Of all the insane, reckless, self centred things to do, you do... that!'
The empty cup was dangling uselessly from one hand, and the other was waving wildly in the air while Jack angrily (furiously) shouted insults towards the Doctor. (Who was hiding behind the TARDIS.) Said TARDIS was parked rather haphazardly on top of Jack's favourite gun. (Vintage Winchester, circa late 1860's... or so The Doctor thought, after having had a quick glance at the squashed barral poking out from under the edge of the blue box.)
The Doctor carefully poked his head out from behind the TARDIS, and offered a weak 'Sorry'. A fine bone china teacup came flying towards him, and narrowly missed slicing an ear off. (It was all very well to wander around rambling to oneself in syphilis induced madness while missing an ear, if one could paint masterpieces like Starry Night, - mid thought,t he Doctor mused that he'd have to go and visit Vincent sometime soon... - but it was another to be the Last Time Lord, and hop through the galaxy looking like a prat because an angry anything-sexual time agent had de-eared you in a fit of rage.)
'You moron!' Jack raged. 'You bloody moron! That was my favourite gun! That was an original Winchester Yellow Boy! Christ! That thing has managed to stay in one piece since 1866 (The Doctor cheered internally ... his guess had been pretty accurate.) and was used at The Battle of Lincoln. You can't buy that kind of history. ' he paused. 'You have to steal it. And that wasn't easy'
The Doctor winced. Perhaps he'd started the visit of font he wrong foot. He hopped lightly from one foot to the other, trying to figure out which foot would be the best to put forward next.
Slowly, he eased his right foot out from behind the TARDIS, and then drew it back at triple speed as a matching plate came hurtling past with the same near accuracy that the cup trajectory had had.
'Jaaaaack.'The Doctor said with what he considered his best Time Lord Voice of Doom. (A combination of impatience, warning and frustration.) 'You're pushing it.' He paused. 'I need to talk to you. It's serious.'
'Well I'm serious about the part where your big blue box landed on my favourite gun!' Jack yelled back.
'Jack! Rose is...'
'Oh, I know all ABOUT your little incident, about your plan... about Plan B too Doctor!' Jack shouted back at him. 'And don't even think about trying to talk your way out of loosing Rose!'
The Doctor shuffled from one foot to the to the other again, and tried to think of exactly the right thing to say in this kind of situation. 'Weeeeeeeeeeellll... on the BRIGHT side, she's not dead!' he stated.
'But she's not exactly here, either... is she Doctor?' Jack spat back.
'Um.. No. But I have a plan!' The Doctor replied excitedly, gingerly poking his head around the side of the TARDIS again. All clear. Carefully, he edged his neck... shoulder... arm... upper torso... leg... around the corner, until he was standing in front of Jack. (At a reasonable distance mind you... after all, you couldn't trust a Time Agent (let alone a Girlfriend Stealing Whore of a Time Agent) when they were in this kind of mood.
Jack sighed, and flopped down into a nearby computer chair. 'Yes Doctor, I've heard the plan. I've heard the plan, seen the detailed timeline you drew up, and watched the video presentation on you tube. '
At that moment, a man, walking backwards stumbled into the room, carrying a file box in his arms, and a folder between his teeth. 'Ack, I'fe found da bothes you athed me to det.' He said through a mouthful of paper.' Turning, the man saw the Doctor standing there, spat out the file in his mouth (which resulted in a rather soggy pile of papers on the floor), and almost dropped the box. 'Oops.' He stated. 'Hmmm. Mind wipe? Agree to forget? I'm never quite sure what is appropriate in these situations... which would probably indicate that a mind wipe is what has previously been used. Jack, aren't you going to introduce us?' the man asked, while staring curiously at the Doctor.
Jack, cleared his throat. 'Uhh. Doctor, meet...'
To be continued.
No, really. I promise.