Time to update again, and as a reward to those of you who might be reading my other story "For Just One Cell", I am going to do my absolute best to make this chapter not sad. So, now for something that many of you have been requesting since chapter one! Enjoy!
Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock
Chapter Eight
"How can you stand it, Ponds?" The Doctor groaned, flopping bonelessly onto a couch in the sitting room. Yes, he knew it was childish, and yes, he knew he had promised he wouldn't be like this, but could they honestly expect so much of him?
"It's rain, Doctor. You sort of learn to live with it," Rory answered simply. He should have seen that coming.
"It's not the rain that's the problem," he clarified with a frustrated sigh. "It's the sitting around, no-going-out law your wife has enacted!"
"Oi, no need to get snappy," Amy chided from her seat on the sofa. "It's for your own good health. I will not have a sopping, sniffling Time Lord dripping all over my carpet. And you've spent whole days in the house before."
"Yes, because I wanted to, Pond, not because the elements were conspiring against me! There's a difference," he insisted petulantly.
"Sounds like you're just being stubborn to me," she replied, and he nearly wanted to rip his hair out. Didn't they understand he was trying—really trying for once? That something so easy for them was practically impossible for him? If the Doctor didn't want to be somewhere, that usually wasn't an issue- he would merely get in the TARDIS and leave. It was perhaps a spoiled lifestyle, but nevertheless it was a lifestyle he had grown accustomed to over a millennium. To break such an ingrained habit was tasking.
The Doctor could also tell that he was impairing Amy's ability to get her work done by bothering her when Rory wasn't around. But he just didn't do well sitting around on his own. That's why he travelled, after all, to keep his mind off that ever-present loneliness that followed him everywhere. When he'd first begun taking Amy and Rory with him on trips, it had been enough to just go on the day's adventure and then leave them be until the next one if they wanted. But it was as if the longer he knew them, the less and less he could bear to be parted from them.
He was acutely aware as well that the Ponds just didn't see; an afternoon spent indoors was an afternoon to them, but it dragged on and yet flew by in wasted time. Rory always had to go to work, and of course on one of the few days they were all home together it just had to rain.
"Why don't you just do something quiet and productive?" Rory suggested, though his tone conveyed his disbelief that it would work.
"Like reading a book," Amy added, squinting at her own novel.
"I read all the books in your library my first night here."
"How—" Rory started.
"Time Lord," Amy huffed in answer for him, shifting in her seat to hold the book under a lamp. "Well just find something to distract yourself with—something mindless."
"Mindless!" He exclaimed, aghast, and actually sat bolt upright on the couch to gape at her. "Amy, I do nothing but use my mind! How could I even think- let alone manage –to turn it off?"
She looked about to fire off a retort, but Rory spoke first. "Well, I'm not sure how effective it might be, but you could try what everybody else does."
"What's that?" He asked, half-curious and half-apprehensive. While this certainly sounded interesting, it also seemed ominous. And if the nurse even mentioned Twitter, he was running back to the sanctuary of his beloved box, downpour or not.
"Video games." He assumed he must have gotten a rather blank look on his face, for Rory raised his eyebrows. "Seriously, you don't know video games?"
"Well, you can't expect me to be familiar with everything," he defended. "It's a big universe."
He watched his friend go over to the television set, the one that had puzzled him since his arrival. Not the television itself, he understood those perfectly well- the Doctor wasn't that alien. But it had far too many boxes. There was one that had the customary controls for fiddling with the volume or the channel, but then there were others that seemed to be for disks or a strange cube-machine he'd originally been startled by, thinking perhaps he'd found the mastermind behind the Slow Invasion. But then Amy had rolled her eyes and muttered something about Rory's "stupid old GameCube" and for him not to worry about it. It had been a disappointing setback at the time, and now he felt maybe he should have worried about it. After all, it had been sitting in this house with him the entire time he'd been here.
Alas, it seemed he wouldn't solve the mystery of the "game cube" today, for Rory instead pressed a button on a pure white device that seemed to be standing up on its side compared to the other rectangular prisms arranged around their television. He then hit the power button on the television, and the screen lit up. But instead of some sort of program coming on, it appeared to be displaying a menu of some type.
"What is it?"
"Our Wii," the nurse answered, seeming to be observing him. The Doctor furrowed his brows in confusion.
"Your what?" What was a 'whee' and why would they own one?
"It's a gaming system. You know, instead of playing a game with actual physical…stuff," Rory said, struggling with explaining it.
"So it's a game that you play on a screen? With a remote?" He guessed, slowly standing and joining the other man.
"Yep," Rory nodded and took up what he supposed was the remote to this strange contraption. "We don't have a lot of games, but you can pick a sport. There's bowling and tennis and—"
"How do you play a sport on a screen? Why not just go outside?" He couldn't help but ask, thoroughly stumped by this new discovery. It hardly seemed that inventive, playing a game with a little remote thing that could easily be done with the actual equipment. "And what about the other people?"
"Well, if you're by yourself and it's rainy out, this is kind of the solution," Rory responded, and he could see the nurse was starting to get impatient. Well, he didn't mean to upset him.
To try and appease the Roman, the Doctor said, "Tennis." Rory nodded and started using the remote to select things. He almost stopped himself from asking the next question, but it left his lips before anything could be done about it. "Who is that tiny person on the screen?"
"Oh, it's me," Rory said, and he looked back and forth between the Rory before him and the Rory on the screen.
"That's you? How are you doing that- you're in your television—"
"No, no, Doctor, I mean it's like an avatar. They're called Miis and you can sort of make them look like you."
"But if it looks like you, why would I call it 'me'?"
"No, you're not calling it yourself, that's just the title. It- it doesn't have to do with who's actually playing it or anything. But you can name it after yourself and pick an appearance."
"Do they come with bowties? Or maybe a fez?" He asked hopefully.
"No," the nurse replied flatly.
"Oh."
"Look, just take the controller," he placed the strange, bulky thing in his hand, and the Doctor frowned down at it. "Ok, the 'A' button is the most important, you sort of use that to select things and stuff. The 'B' button in the back is kind of important too, though."
"Where's that?" He turned the thing over in his hands a couple times, trying to get used to it. He supposed it was helpful that these 'A' and 'B' buttons were labeled, at least. Rory kept trying to get him to hold it the proper way so he could start.
"Oh, and there's also a bit of movement," the nurse added belatedly as some sort of countdown started on the screen.
"Movement?" He repeated incredulously.
"Rory, are you sure this is a good idea?" Amy finally inquired from her same position on the sofa. She was watching him with a sort of frown on her face, the kind she often wore when she took him out anywhere for groceries or the like.
"Well, you want him to do something besides mope around. And video games are about as mindless as they get," her husband replied.
"It can't be that bad, Pond, I'll do fine," he reassured.
"Well, you missed the first serve," Rory pointed out, and he was surprised to see a sort of scoreboard in one of the upper corners, which did appear to be saying the other little person on the screen was winning.
"What? Well, how was that fair, we didn't even establish who was serving first," he complained, looking to his friend for answers.
"You don't establish- Doctor, you're not playing another person, it's a computer."
"I have to beat a computer?" He demanded.
"They make it easy," Rory reasoned.
"Easy?" He scoffed, "Computers aren't designed to lose, Rory- and it just scored another point."
"Well of course it did," Amy wasn't trying very hard to hide her laughter, and he tugged at his jacket in discomfort as she snickered at him. "You aren't doing anything. You got to try and hit the ball."
"How?"
"With the remote, it's your racket," Rory said.
"No it isn't, it's a remote."
"Yes, and it's also your racket," the nurse ground out.
"But it's a remote. Wouldn't it break if I tried to hit a ball with it?" He wasn't sure why Rory let out an aggravated groan and stomped over to the couch, but he had to assume it had to do with something he had said. Now if he could just figure out what.
"That's it, I give up. Forget the video games Doctor, we can just find some coloring books to do or something," the nurse grumbled, but the Doctor puffed up a bit indignantly. Coloring books!
"No, I want to learn." Rory looked pleadingly at his wife, and Amy sighed.
"I knew this was a bad idea," she pointed out, but set her book down and came to stand next to him. "Ok, so obviously trying to explain it like you're a normal person doesn't work," the redhead mused. He waited, tossing the remote back and forth between his hands now that he was more used to the weight of it. Her eyes followed its movement for a while before she finally grinned. "Got it! Ok, so, Doctor, don't think of the remote like it's a remote," she started.
"Alright," he said slowly, glancing back at Rory in puzzlement, but the other man simply shrugged.
"Pretend the remote is the sonic, and that the tennis ball on the screen is some sort of weird alien thing coming to destroy our sitting room. The only way you can stop it is by sort of swinging the sonic out like you're going to hit it, and then pressing that button that makes it go all glowy, and that sends it back over the net."
His face scrunched up as he reminded her, "Amy, I can't hit things away with a sonic screwdriver—"
"Pretend you can, Raggedy Man," she ordered with narrowing eyes, apparently not wanting the holes in her explanation pointed out.
"Well, alright then," he said at last, looking away from her and back at the screen where the countdown had started again. The Doctor watched carefully as the little computer-person served the tiny tennis ball and just as it sailed toward him he swung the white controller, pressing the 'A' button at the same time. In amazement, he then watched it fly back to the little computer-person. "Oh! It worked! Amy, I did it!"
"That's nice, Doctor," he heard her call vaguely from another room.
"And then it's just like real tennis?"
"Yep." It might have been Amy, it might have been Rory, but the Doctor was busy concentrating as the computer-person had made a rather impressive swing, sending the ball back to his side.
"Interesting."
OoO
Rory was on his way to the kitchen the next morning when Amy stuck her head out of the bathroom, hairbrush in hand. "Could you look for the Doctor? I peeked in his room, but he wasn't there, and I really didn't want to see what he got up to instead of sleeping."
He sighed, but was feeling sympathetic and said, "Sure." It really wasn't that difficult a task. All he had to do was continue on his way and make a quick stop in the sitting room. The sight that met him froze him in his tracks.
The alien had removed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up to the elbows, his bowtie was askew, and his hair a bit messier than usual. But one thing hadn't changed from the previous afternoon- he was still holding the Wii controller in his hand and swinging it at the screen to hit the tennis ball. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but the Doctor won another two sets without noticing him. It was only when Amy joined him in the archway that Rory was able to snap out of his stupor.
"I found him," he said rather unnecessarily.
His wife watched their friend for a much shorter time than him before saying, "Doctor?"
The Time Lord jumped, casting a quick glance behind him and then returning his focus to the television. "Oh, hello Pond. What have you been up to?"
"Sleeping," she responded simply. "It's morning."
"Is it? I hadn't noticed. Had a good rest, then?"
"Yeah, but what have you been doing if you didn't sleep?"
"Playing tennis."
Amy and Rory shared semi-concerned glances. He decided to try asking, "What else?"
"Nothing else." It was as if there was nothing wrong with that statement. Amy soon debunked that idea, however.
"Doctor, you have been playing that game for over twelve hours!"
"Yes, I suppose I have," he agreed absently. "I also apparently beat your high score, Rory."
"Oh, that's alright—"
"Three-hundred and eighty-six times."
"Oh," he said again, feeling slightly disappointed, but mostly astounded.
"Sorry, got a bit carried away."
"Yes, you have," Amy decided firmly, and the redheaded woman marched over to the television and hit the power buttons on it and the Wii, making the screen go black. When the Doctor gave an exclamation of surprise and almost irritation, she merely held her hand out for the controller. "That is enough video games for you, Raggedy Man. No more Wii tennis for a week."
"What? But- you can't- what do you—is- is this grounding? Are you grounding me, Pond?"
Rory had to wonder the same thing. "Can we even do that?" Sure, the Doctor was living under their roof, but he was their friend. And he was pretty sure friends didn't ground friends. Of course, Rory had never grounded anybody.
"If we have to," his wife boldly declared. "What's the point of being his in-laws if we have no authority, anyway?"
"Um, I think the point of being his in-laws is that he's married to our daughter," Rory couldn't help reminding her.
"Details," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. The Doctor had been watching their back-and-forth exchange silently until he blinked and raised one hand to rub at eyes bloodshot from staring at a screen for so long.
"Oh Ponds. What am I doing? How—" he dropped the controller into Amy's still-waiting hand before actually staggering back from the television. "How did that happen- did I really do that for twelve hours?" The Time Lord dropped onto the couch as though he couldn't hold himself up anymore; he was in so much disbelief. Amy and Rory looked at each other again, before joining him on either side, Amy placing the Wii controller back first. "I didn't even realize. These video games really are mindless."
"That's the point of them," Amy said, patting his shoulder in comfort. "You don't have to feel bad just cause you got sucked in, it happens to everyone."
"But everyone doesn't play it for twelve hours, do they?" The alien pointed out astutely and she had no reply. "It was just so addicting."
"Well, not that it's my field, but if I had to diagnose you I would say you have a bit of an addictive personality," Rory reasoned, and both Amy and the Doctor turned to look at him curiously.
"What do you mean?" Their friend asked.
"Well, I mean, you just sort of do things- but to the extreme, you know? Or how you have those things you never want to give up- like the hats and the bowties and things. You're definitely an adrenaline junkie," he explained, stopping as the Doctor stared at him in wonder. "What?"
"I am?" The Time Lord asked softly, before his mouth fell open and he looked away. "I am, aren't I? I never even thought about it- but I really am an addict."
"Well, it's not so bad," Rory hastened to add, especially since Amy was frowning in disapproval at him for causing this latest bout of Doctor Depression. "There's nothing wrong about being really into something."
"Yes, but what I'm really into is people. And that's what makes me really sorry about this video game thing—Amy, Rory, I should be spending time with you, not on digitalized sport." He looked at each of them completely ashamed.
"We're not mad," Amy told him. "Sometimes we're going to be too busy to do something or it's going to rain- you can play Wii tennis then."
"It's really my fault anyway, I showed it to you," Rory reminded. Their words seemed to work, for their friend was no longer frowning and his shoulders were not slumped anymore.
"So how about you get cleaned up and we can have breakfast, and then we'll go on a walk together or something with no video games," Amy suggested, grinning as she added, "It did stop raining."
"It did, didn't it?" The Doctor perked up, leaping to his feet to check out their window. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Pond!"
"Fine by me," Rory agreed, smiling a little as well, before a thought occurred to him. "Why don't we just pack some food? We could eat outside- a picnic." For a moment, he worried it was the wrong thing to say, seeing as their last picnic had not gone so well. But neither Amy nor the Doctor got angry with him for inadvertently bringing that up.
"Brilliant suggestion, Rory!" The Doctor praised, halfway out of the sitting room. "I won't be long, you two can choose what to take."
"I think we still have some fish fingers and custard," Rory mused. One benefit to them all living in their house was that things were no longer going bad in the refrigerator. "And Amy still needs to try it."
"I do not," she shook her head, stubbornly crossing her arms. Rory and the Doctor shared a glance.
"Yes she does."
"Yeah, she does."
So there you go, happy fluff. Hope it was cute and funny enough for you. There is a huge technical reason I wrote the first section from the Doctor's POV—just as he was unfamiliar with video games, I am unfamiliar with video games. I do not own a Wii or any other gaming system, so if something was wrong, I apologize, but there's not much I can do to fix it. Hopefully, it didn't impede your enjoyment of the chapter, and as always thanks for reading and please review!
