Notes: This third installment in the 6B slice-of-life series was an experiment in writing in a different tense. This one can be summarized as "Five times the Doctor encouraged Jamie to try new things from the future, and one time he didn't." It's purposefully lighthearted (so as to make up for the sad oneshot I posted the other day), and it references bits of DW meta from the expanded universe, as well as my own "Gallifreyans are crocodilians" headcanon.
It's a joy to be traveling with Jamie again, the Doctor knows. But he also knows that, given the chance, Goth would be ready to take it all away from him. And so the Doctor worries and frets, trying to come up with some sort of plan that would ensure that even if the other Time Lords tried to take Jamie away, they would see the futility of it and return him to the Doctor's side.
But how…? How?
The Doctor's answer comes one morning at the breakfast table; during the past fifty years, after being separated from Jamie, the Doctor never ate breakfast—or dinner—content with only a light lunch. But the Doctor knows that humans place great importance on strengthening bonds over meals, and so has a fried gumblejack on the table for himself to keep Jamie company while he eats his own breakfast.
Jamie arrives at the table that morning perplexed and covered with sticky notes stuck all over him.
"Doctor, why are these wee bits of paper sticking to me? I was practicing writing the Gallifreyan language ye taught me, but when I tried to throw these bits of paper away, they stuck to me instead!"
The Doctor tries not to laugh, instead explaining about the purpose of sticky notes before taking note of what the notes on Jamie are actually saying, upon which, his eyes widen.
"Jamie, what is all this you wrote?"
"Oh, well, I found this set of sticky papers next to yer 500-year-diary in the study, so I started copying down yer notes in Gallifreyan on the papers to practice."
"Well, that explains it," the Doctor sighs.
"Explains what?"
The Doctor picks one of the notes off of Jamie's jumper.
"Why you wrote here some highly unflattering things about Goth."
"Whate'er it is I said, ye said it first," Jamie reminds him. "I was just practicing writing the letters; maybe ye can help me translate what I wrote?
"Yes, well…" The Doctor trails off as he notices that, stuck on Jamie's sleeve, is a sticky note bearing the Doctor's true name, which Jamie innocently copied down with the rest of the letters. "Most of it, anyway."
As he helps Jamie remove the sticky notes, a brilliant idea sparks in the Time Lord's mind—
If Jamie were to become a walking anachronism, it would be impossible for him to be sent back to his own time, even with the memories of his travels wiped. There were other forms of memory that the Time Lords couldn't affect, and the Doctor could use methods to strengthen the other kinds that could be affected.
It's an impishly brilliant plan, and one that could work very well.
"Jamie…." the Doctor says, placing a hand on his companion's shoulder. "In the three-and-a half years we traveled together before this whole Celestial Intervention Agency mess, I never did get around to teaching you about casual things from the future, did I? Like these sticky notes, for instance…"
"No," Jamie admits. "We were usually too busy running from beasties to do anything casual."
"I think," the Doctor says. "There are lots of things you would like from the future that you haven't yet seen. And seeing as though we don't have any missions at the moment… perhaps this would be a good time for you to be introduced to them."
"Instead of my lessons?"
The Doctor gives him a look.
"In addition to your lessons."
"…Oh, aye. Well, it cannae hurt…"
"Excellent!" the Doctor exclaims. "Now, let's see to breakfast, shall we?"
The first item of the future that the Doctor introduces to Jamie is the smartphone; he presents him with one after breakfast as sort of a welcome-back present. Jamie is thrilled; he's seen people use these in other times, and had always thought they were "interesting wee gadgets."
The Doctor's plan is to have Jamie's hand muscles be adapted to using the smartphone; muscle memory was one type of memory that the Time Lords couldn't alter, no matter how they tried. This was just one step in the master plan, and as far as the Doctor was concerned, it was one that Jamie was going to enjoy.
Of course, even the best-laid plans of Time Lords and men don't go completely according to plan…
Within minutes, Jamie questions why there are "mad birds" on his new phone, and promptly starts playing Bejeweled during his lessons, much to the Doctor's exasperation. It isn't long before the Doctor's reading time in the middle of the night is interrupted by Jamie's discovery of emoticons and his proud announcement that he can "make and send wee faces" in his text messages—which are only sent to the Doctor, anyway… one after the other… all night long.
The other shoe drops when Jamie starts playing with the phone's web browser and spends hours on it. The Doctor takes it all in stride until he hears bagpipe videos on youtube being played in the dead of night.
It's at that point that the Doctor shuts off the TARDIS's wi-fi; he created this menace, and now he has to tame it. A mild squabble ensues, but it ends with the Doctor announcing that Jamie's next lesson is going to be in a little thing called "Moderation."
The good thing that has come from this, of course, is that Jamie was behaving very much like a 21st-century youth, as the Doctor had hoped. The other Time Lords certainly won't be able to separate Jamie from his phone—or from the Doctor.
In the end, Jamie finds a happy medium in regards to his phone usage, and the Doctor declares this phase of the plan successful.
The Doctor decides that, perhaps, it is best that the next item of the future that Jamie be introduced to be something not involving a screen. Muscle memory is still something that the Doctor wants to focus on, and, in the end, the Doctor uncovers an air hockey table he had stashed away.
"I acquired this some time ago, on a trip to America," he announces. "Never got around to using it, though…"
"What's it do?" Jamie asks, intrigued by it.
"Well, it's a game, Jamie. Do you remember the field hockey match we attended once?"
"Aye."
"Well, this is a table-top version of the game. You use this…" He hands Jamie one of the little mallets. "…To try to get the puck into the goal that your opponent is guarding."
"That's all?"
"That's all. Would you care to try it? …I fully understand if you're a bit reluctant. After all, a Gallifreyan's reflexes—"
Jamie strikes the puck with the mallet and sends it cleanly into the Doctor's goal, and then proceeds to fold his arms and glance back at the Gallifreyan.
"Now, that wasn't fair!" the Doctor pouts, as he retrieves the puck.
Kid gloves are off; actually, they are never put on in the first place. The Doctor and Jamie strike the puck back and forth, unmercifully. The Gallifreyan's reflexes only stand so much against the human's sheer determination. As it becomes clearer that the two are evenly matched, it soon becomes a matter of personal honor.
All of the Doctor's previous lessons about moderation go flying out the window; the match continues on for hours, with only short breaks to catch their breath and for Jamie to quickly down something edible to keep his stamina up.
In the end, it is the TARDIS who decides that enough is enough; it's the middle of the night and the score is tied at 26-all when she plunges the room into complete darkness, much to the ire of both players.
Jamie retrieves his smartphone from his sporran and uses the screen as a light just in time to see the Doctor cast a furious glance at the ceiling, the glowing tapetum lucidum in his eyes augmenting his frustrated expression.
"Killjoy!" he fumes.
She refuses to turn the lights back on. Jamie knows exactly who is in charge here and who will win this argument, and he surrenders to the inevitable and announces that he's going to bed.
This brings the Doctor around to his senses, and he retreats to his study, not entirely sure whether to declare this phase of the plan a success or not. In the end, he decides that it is; it goes without saying that he and Jamie will have a rematch—and many more after that.
The Doctor soon realizes, however, that his own actions during the whole fiasco with the mad air hockey game has, in effect, nullified his "moderation" lecture to Jamie that he had given in regards to his smartphone use. Jamie doesn't spend endless hours on the phone anyway, despite that, which the Doctor is grateful for.
However, the fact that the Doctor doesn't have a leg to stand on in regards to moderation manifests itself when the third phase of the Doctor's plan ends up backfiring on him in the most spectacular fashion.
The plan had been simple: introduce Jamie to modern music. In retrospect, the Doctor should've realized that this would end up backfiring on him, especially since he remembers quite well what happened when Jamie received that transistor radio from Tobias Vaughn during their last encounter with the Cybermen. Why the Doctor presumed that this time would be different, he still doesn't know.
Nevertheless, once the Doctor introduces Jamie to various music apps and sites, the piper proceeds to be very selective in what he listens to—very, very selective.
And the Doctor quickly realizes that he can't lecture Jamie on moderation anymore without looking like a fool. Upon making peace with that, the Doctor adopts a mantra of it makes him happy, it makes him happy, it makes him happy… as he hears "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" being played for the umpteenth time.
However, the Doctor can't deny that he did achieve what he set out to do in terms of his plan; it's just that it's gone horribly right. The Doctor sighs as he hears the song again, lodging deeper into his brain; he's certain that somewhere down the line, in one of his future regenerations, that song will return to haunt him.
…It wouldn't be half as bad if it wasn't for the fact that the Doctor can hear the TARDIS laughing at him.
For phase four, the Doctor abandons anything that has to do with electronics. This time, he's done his research, spending long hours in the TARDIS library, pouring over books on human physiology. What he finds is that humans, like several other animals, have connections between the senses of smell and taste to their memories.
Armed with that knowledge, the Doctor procures a food item that, despite being ancient, is quite popular in the modern day—a pizza. He is confident that Jamie has never seen anything like it, and as they sit down to lunch, the look of utter bewilderment on the Scot's face proves him right.
"What is that!?" the piper queries.
"It's called 'pizza,' Jamie."
"What planet is that from?"
"From Earth, of course!" the Doctor says. "It's been around for centuries, but it has made a niche for itself in modern cuisines all over the world. What you see before you is the modern incarnation."
"If it's all the same to ye, Doctor, I think I'll pass," Jamie states, folding his arms as he looks at the pizza.
"Now, really, Jamie, you've tried all sorts of foods on our travels; I don't see why this should be so difficult—especially when it's from your own planet! …Won't you at least sample it?"
Jamie says nothing as the Doctor places a slice of the pizza on a plate and places it in front of him. As the piper continues to look at the pizza in suspicion, the Doctor suddenly realizes this unforeseen flaw in this phase of the plan. Despite this, he waits and watches as Jamie looks around for utensils.
"You eat it with your hands," the Doctor explains, prompting a baffled look from the Scot; back when Jamie first started traveling with the Doctor, his table manners had been something to be desired, so this manages to be an intriguing change after many past lessons of etiquette.
Jamie now proceeds to give the pizza a sniff. The smell seems to be intriguing, as well, though its unfamiliarity still leaves the piper cautious about it. Realizing that Jamie is going to have to learn by example, the Doctor takes a slice of pizza for himself and begins to eat it.
The pizza is fine and of great quality, but the Doctor knows that, as a Gallifreyan, it's quite dangerous—the tomatoes in the sauce and the peppers, mushrooms, and olives on top are high in salicylic acid, which is extremely toxic to Gallifreyans. He has plenty of chocolate on hand to act as an antidote, however, so he is willing to put up with the temporary—albeit extreme—discomfort if it means that his plan is one step closer to succeeding.
In the end, the Doctor finds it completely worth it upon seeing the look on Jamie's face when, after taking his first bite of pizza, the Scot looks as though he's had a revelation and tasted the food of the Heavens, and now knows the answers to life and all of its mysteries. The piper consumes half of the pizza in one sitting and requests the other half for dinner. The Doctor is more than happy to let him have the other half and, after lunch, he retreats back to his study to consume the chocolate to counteract the salicylic acid.
Despite the unpleasant feeling in his gut, the Doctor declares this phase of the plan as an unmistakable success.
For phase five of the plan, the Doctor reluctantly decides to go back to electronics. The entertainment room in the TARDIS was one they hardly ever used, despite the fact that it had a perfectly inviting wide-screen television, surrounded by couches with reclining mechanisms in them. Now is as good a time as any to put them to use, the Doctor decides, so he parks the TARDIS in orbit over the Earth to catch the TV signals emitting from the various stations on the ground.
After a brief lesson on how the television works, the Doctor decides to let Jamie decide what to watch—against all better judgment.
For some unexplainable reason, Jamie settles on a monster movie marathon going on, the focus being on Dracula. They get through Dracula, Dracula Leaves, Dracula Comes Back, Dracula Goes Away Again, and part-way through The Scars of Dracula with a bit of commentary by the Doctor on how the Time Lords despise vampires, and how vampires are among the few species in the universe that can strike undue fear into the hearts of a Gallifreyan. It takes Jamie a moment to realize that this means that vampires are real after all, and that the stories he had heard about them growing up were true.
Jamie stares at the Doctor in a mix of horror and wonder, asking him if he's ever seen any. The Doctor hesitates before admitting that yes, in the course of one of his missions before reuniting with Jamie, he had been attacked by one.
Jamie immediately checks the Doctor's neck.
"Oh, Jamie, do stop fussing over me; I wasn't turned into one of them, if that's what's worrying you!"
But he lets Jamie continue his inspection to satisfy him, deciding that this isn't the best time to let the piper know that Gallifreyans are crocodilians and, therefore, are carnivorous anyway without being turned into vampires. Once Jamie is satisfied, the Doctor tells the story of how he dealt with the vampire.
"Of course, the thing with vampires is, you deal with one, and then the kin start clamoring for revenge…" the Doctor sighs.
"So… ye're saying that we could be under attack by real vampires at any moment?" Jamie asks.
"Well, seeing as though we're perched in orbit above the Earth, they'd have to be quite determined…"
"Oh, aye," Jamie says, relaxing slightly as he looks back at the television screen. But then he frowns, pointing at Dracula's servant on the screen. "Doctor, look! That chappie looks like ye!"
"Oh, really, Jamie, don't be ridiculous… Oh, my word… he does."
But before either of them can get a closer look, the room is plunged into darkness and the television shuts off; before the Doctor can yell at the TARDIS again, a loud screech is heard outside in the corridor, and the Doctor finds himself with one highly alarmed piper practically hanging from his neck.
"Exactly how determined would a vampire have to be to break into the TARDIS while we were perched above the Earth?" Jamie asks, in a frightened whisper.
The Doctor's response is to return the security cling.
"Well, it's not impossible…" he admits.
Slowly, they step into the corridor, which is just as dark as the entertainment room—and the rest of the TARDIS is the same way.
"They must have retrieved some sort of deactivation mechanism and turned it on the Old Girl," the Doctor murmurs.
"And now they're in?" Jamie whispers back.
Another screech echoes from down the corridor, prompting Jamie to tighten his cling.
"So it would seem," the Doctor says. "I thank you for trying to shield my neck, but I do like to be able to turn my head, you know."
Jamie readjusts his cling to around the Doctor's shoulders, and, slowly they wander down the corridor.
"Odd…" the Doctor murmurs. "The sound came from up ahead, and yet, I feel no other presence."
"They're the undead," Jamie says, quietly. "They wouldnae feel the same—"
Another loud screech from something unseen issues from a foot in front of them. The Doctor decides that he is not going to put Jamie at risk and, instead, drags Jamie to the nearest room, which just happens to be the room where he stores the cricket bats, squash racquets, and that air hockey table. Wordlessly, they agree to take shelter here as another screech issues from outside.
The TARDIS's orbit around the Earth eventually takes them to where the sun is currently rising; this dawn finds the Time Lord and the piper hiding under the air hockey table, holding the cricket bats in the shape of a cross.
Jamie dares to wonder aloud as to whether or not the vampire left because of the sunlight, but before the Doctor can answer, he hears a familiar sound—the TARDIS is laughing again.
Furious, the Doctor realizes that there never was any vampire on board, and that the blackout and the screeching noise had been due to the TARDIS getting her revenge for when the Doctor called her a killjoy upon her stopping their air hockey match.
Jamie is too relieved to be angry, and the Doctor eventually realizes that trying to retaliate against one's sentient ship would only lead to disasters beyond all imaginings, so he lets the matter go, albeit reluctantly.
The Doctor also realizes that he can't quite determine whether introducing Jamie to television was successful or not due to the TARDIS's interference. Subsequently, they try again after breakfast, this time choosing an innocuous film about a hobbit breaking into a dragon's stolen treasure hoard. It goes quite well (though the Doctor swears that one of the wizards looks like one of his future selves), but Jamie has no desire for another marathon after what happened last night, and is content to stop after one film.
The Doctor declares this phase of the plan to be a success, as well as being forced to admit that the TARDIS taught a better lesson in moderation than he could have done at that point.
Overall, the Doctor has to admit that his plan is succeeding, despite the bizarre setbacks that occurred. Jamie is still very much a proud Jacobite piper, but he's also picked up some future habits, as the Doctor had hoped.
Both the Doctor and Jamie have learned valuable lessons in moderation. Even so, the Doctor knows that there are some things of the future that Jamie should stay away from. Jamie needs limits; the Doctor himself had limits as a Time Tot (not that he ever obeyed them, but that's another matter). And with the Doctor being fully responsible for looking after the piper, he knows that when his sixth sense tells him that something is not a good idea for Jamie to get involved with, he should listen.
And that is why, when the Doctor and Jamie are taking a casual stroll down a street on Earth, pausing when Jamie stares at a gleaming motorbike with a For Sale sign on it, the Doctor's knee-jerk reaction is a frantic "Jamie, no!"
Jamie is disappointed, but, in the end, has to agree with the Doctor when he says that the space-time continuum simply isn't ready for a Jacobite rebel biker. Some other day, perhaps… but not today.
And, anyway, even without his smartphone, his television, his air hockey table, his music, and his pizza, Jamie has all he could ever want anyway. He has a family again, and it's more than enough for him—and for the Doctor, too.