Defective Products
Summary: Meet Dalek Stan, only good for making food. Meet Angel Dave, who never quite got the defensive mechanism down. And meet Cyberman Janet, who really, REALLY wanted to get laid. They're sharing a flat. Fun begins.
Dave was beginning to regret living with Stan and Janet. Being painfully shy, it was probably not a good idea to live with a boisterous nymphomaniac and a...a thing. An absence of intelligence. Stan was a void for knowledge.
Which led to the question of how he made good tea. Very good tea. You know, until he threw it at you because he was scared of the magic boxes in their small flat. And that was the time when your quantum lock decided to bugger off, "Ack!"
"DAVE? DAAAVE! WHAT HAPP-ENED?"
"You spilt...tea...on me. Boiling. Hot. Tea."
"OH." Stan paused, "MA-GIC BOILING POT HURT DAVE?!"
"No," Dave growled through grit teeth, "STAN hurt Dave. Actually, Stan burnt Dave quite nastily, because Dave's quantum lock hates her."
"OH. WHO IS DAVE?!"
Dave nearly bit through her tongue.
Janet was feeling pretty down and could see why Dave had come in looking like she was about to cry. Not that she didn't always look like she wanted to cry, being a Weeping Angel and all. But at any rate, it was raining, cold and very dark. Plus, every human being that ran across her decided to scream and dash in the opposite direction, "Being a cyborg sucks." She kicked a pebble. It smashed a bus shelter, "No way to actually do the deed!" Sirens were heard and a video van drove past her, "There really needs to be a way to reverse this. Seriously, I'm taking in Stan if I have to." Janet then realised what she was saying and nearly face palmed, "Okay, no, bad idea." And so, Janet stood there in the rain, lamenting lost pleasures until she realised exactly how much like a remnant of her teenage self she sounded. Not good. Under any circumstances, "Definitely don't want to go down that route again."
Stan was bored, sitting at home while jabbing Dave in the same manor he jabbed everything he didn't understand. Dave was frozen as a statue again- just before she could have bitten through her tongue to be precise. But Stan had never understood anything not related to his own make-up and even then the details of his knowledge were sketchy at best. Stan was not a very good Dalek, mainly because he couldn't tell the difference between other species and his own. Which was good news for all the other species, given that Dalek Stan still had the programming of a...well, a Dalek. AKA Genocidal, Omnicidal maniacs. Albeit a rather bad one, "STAT-UE?" His plunger was trying in vain to feed Stan information, but it just went in one way and became jumbled like he'd used a whisk to combine it with some serious amounts of concentrated idiocy, "STAT-UE MUST BE EX-TERM-IN-AT-ED!"
Angel Dave started to scream inside. And then outside. The quantum lock wore off, and Dave was out of the window faster than a Marlin chasing tuna. Dave stared at his now absent plunger hand, "STAT-UE GONE? STAT-UE ES-CAPED THE DALEKS?!"
And with that, Dalek Stan managed to ensure that the kitchen was clean. On account of the fact that anything resembling a kitchen no longer existed.
Meanwhile...
"IT IS HIM. OUR ULTIMATE WEA-PON!" One of the Daleks was checking a screen. Alien technology was rampant on Earth, so there was really no point in checking out whether or not that was there. Instead, the Daleks were hunting for something a tad more mundane- an absolute void of intelligence. They weren't having much luck. "NO. WE HAVE COME ACROSS AN EX-AM HALL. DALEKS DO NOT TAKE HU-MAN EX-AMS!"
"THEN WHY IS THERE A VOID IN KNOWLEDGE?!" The two scouter Daleks thought very, very hard about this for a couple of minutes,
"SOME HU-MANS ARE TOO LA-ZY TO STUDY EFF-ECT-IVE-LY!"
"UNDERSTOOD. COMMENCING START OF SEARCH AGAIN!"
Dalek Stan looked up from his plunger, basic instinct kicking in. He whirred around the 'not quite a kitchen,' as if he were hunting for something, "DANGER. DANGER!" Stan began to spin in circles. He'd felt something, "DANGER! DANGER! DANGER!" Dalek Stan panicked and shot at what had once been a toaster. It was certainly dissuading Dave from coming back in. She decided to run off- maybe she could find Janet and convince her to come deal with Stan. She hoped so.
Angel Dave had been dashing from place to place, keeping her eyes covered in case she saw any of her brethren. The brethren that called her names, hit her and tended to freeze her in place a lot...Okay, actually she didn't care much if they got stuck in place watching each other. Laughing gits. She'd be happy if the horrific Doctor they kept banging on about trapped them for eternity, oh yes.
Well, maybe that was unfair. The angel brothers in that house weren't exactly great either, but they'd never teased her. They also had the odd quality of refusing to join an army of Weeping Angels, preferring to stick together. She had to admire them for that. Honestly, that angel army was a disgrace. Angels didn't kill people, that was insulting to their victims!
And there was Dave's little known passive aggressive side coming out. To be honest, Dave herself wasn't aware she had it, but it was definitely there. Of course, passive aggressive capabilities seemed to run in her family- her brother Angel Sasha had always been quite nasty too. Dave pushed all her negative thoughts to the back of her mind and ran onwards, hoping to find Janet in the cold English rain...
Also meanwhile...
The angel army was still. Totally still. There were a grand total of three voices between them and they all belonged to their leader. Except, of course, one of them had remembered that his consciousness still, technically, belonged to him, "Honestly, Angel Sasha I feel quite bad about suggesting a return to old form, but it really did work better." Sacred Bob picked his words carefully, inside Angel Sasha's head, " Seriously, more energy and people didn't hate you quite as much. I mean, snapping necks and replicating voices so quickly is something to be proud of but you really should remember that you have standards. I understand that the teasing and passing between hands must have irritated you greatly but I'm sure you could come up with a peaceful solution. I mean, trying to change with the times is good and everything, but I don't think that it was really effective in this situation, you know what I mean? Also..." Sasha screamed a bit inside, willing Bob to shut up. The two other voices thanked him for it. One of his fellows messaged him, in whatever strange way Weeping Angels communicated.
Angel Dave. His defective sister. She'd been found.
Angel Sasha suddenly received a massive boost in coping with Bob the self help pamphlet.
Janet had one of those feelings. It was one of those feelings that just suggested something worse than what the humans called hell was coming...On the other hand, living with Stan tended to de-sensitise one to those feelings, so Janet ignored it. She let her eyes prowl around for victims...And unsurprisingly there were none. Janet was feeling rather unfulfilled, apart from the deep terror in the pit of her guts. She ignored it. Even as a destructive spaceship that her technology allowed her to detect came into view, Janet firmly refused to pay attention to the terror in the bottom of her guts.
It was probably gas anyway.
Meanwhile AGAIN...
The Cybermen were ready to invade. They'd checked their technology, ensuring the entire thing was intact. They'd looked for any possibly threats and planned for either evasion or neutralisation. Nothing could have gone wrong.
Well, until the alarms starting sounding about a rogue Cyberman on the loose. One of those new fangled factory ones. The ones without as much finesse or artwork to their design, but with a lot of weapons. Strong weapons. And there was a version nine down there.
The Cybermen decided to take the advisable course of action. They decided to upgrade, "Who has the upgrading software?"
"We left it back home!"
"What?! I'm surrounded by morons! We'll have to go get it!"
"But sir, there's only one of those new ones..."
"We will have to go get it."
"But..."
"WE ARE GOING TO GET IT."
The feeling of terror Janet had passed,
"Yup, it was gas."
The broken angel sort of ruined the relief. She'd babbled and moved in an incredibly odd way, mentioning something about Dalek Stan going absolutely something or other before freezing in place. Janet was happy she could lift heavy objects.
Dave would get pissy if you left her out in the rain.
A/N: Another one XD I don't like this one quite as much as the last one. But I do enjoy writing for Sacred Bob, even if he is a bit off.
Yes, I am going to ignore some canon. Also, I am trying to get a plot in.
Oh, and because I forgot it last time; Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Doctor Who. The concepts of Weeping Angels, Daleks and Cybermen go to their respective creators.