eleventh_doctor: (the smiling icon)
i.

A sweet, heavy scent filled the TARDIS the moment the Doctor opened the door. Outside, flowers grew wherever there was room; the bushes, the trees, and the ground were covered in them, creating a rainbow patchwork that went as far as the eye could see.

The Doctor strode into them and turned for a moment to simply take it in. “What do you notice?”

Diane followed her out. Something akin to a red carnation brushed her leg. “The sky is purple.”

“Yes, it is. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The Doctor agreed and stuck her hands into her trouser pockets. “It’s spring here. Come winter the planet packs up its colours and even the sky goes grey, but now, now is the best time.”

“All right.” Diane tugged her silk scarf away from her face as the wind blew it astray. “What are we here for?”

The Doctor rolled her sleeves up past the elbow and used her customary scarf to tie her hair back. “Gardening!”

“Gardening,” Diane repeated calmly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“The TARDIS’s esfodelia-“ The Doctor nodded to a patch of peculiar flowers surrounding a small pond of water, “-that’s these- have hit a nasty patch. When they die, I want others ready to replace them.” From somewhere in the endless recesses of her jacket, she produced two pairs of gloves made of a clear, cool felt material, and a few gardening tools of alien origin. “As I said: gardening!”

Five Times the Doctor Visited the Third Planet of Floria in her Eleventh Incarnation )


Community: [livejournal.com profile] oncoming_storms
Prompt: 1.12 - time and tide wait for no man
Word Count: 1,114
Author's Note: Firstly: Dennis Creevey (the guest star in the fourth segment) is respectfully borrowed from [livejournal.com profile] kingcreevey, where I expect he will return after readings. Give the lad a hand, folks, and please throw in a few sickles to buy him chocolate frogs. Thank you.

Secondly, to clear up any confusion: The Rani who appears in this fic is the-Rani-as-portrayed-by-Suzie-Plakson, who has shown up in a few other Eleven!fics, and not [livejournal.com profile] renegadeinexile. She's prettier and not ginger.
eleventh_doctor: (the neutral icon)
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket


It was a cold night; just right for a penguin like me. It was raining outside. It didn’t make for a pretty picture, but I can’t complain: it’s the only time my office gets a little wash.

I’m Frobisher. Frobisher to my friends, Mr. Frobisher to my enemies. I’m a private investigator. I’m the guy you go to when the chips are down, when the cows make it home, when the pickle jar won’t open and you can almost taste the cucumber-y goodness inside. It’s not the glamourous life you see in the movies. I spend a lot of time chasing runaways, hiding in alleys, and ferreting through trash cans. You name it, I’ll do it. For the right price.

I was having a slow day. It was just about time to close up the office, and I had just poured my last glass of bourbon. Then she walked in. Five-foot-nine inches, and all of it was legs. I couldn’t have kept my eyes off her if I tried. She took one look at the chair growing three kinds of bacteria, then sat down on one of the few clean spots on my desk. She was a smart dame as well as a classy one; the things that had sat on that chair, no dame deserved to see. The minute I could talk without my voice going up an octave, I offered her my last drink.


Dial P for Penguin )

Community: [livejournal.com profile] oncoming_storms
Prompt: 1.9 - I will remember this moment forever
Word Count: 743
eleventh_doctor: (the time and tide icon)
You find her on a planet that shouldn’t exist. Your TARDIS malfunctions, sends you ripping through alternate universes. You wander through antiseptic streets until finally, finally you find someone useful. You ask her for help, and she leaves her shop to explain her world to you. She is a mechanic, she tells you, and asks what sort of ship you have. You take her to your TARDIS on a whim. She falls in love with her faster than any before, and you will forever find her poking around the TARDIS to see which bits do what. You ask her to come with you, and she doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

You find her on a planet that shouldn't exist. )


Community: [livejournal.com profile] oncoming_storms
Prompt: 1.4 - Split-Second Decisions
Word Count: 703
eleventh_doctor: (you're driving me crazy)
In Which Dennis and Eleven Babysit the Doctor )


Community: [livejournal.com profile] oncoming_storms
Prompt: 1.3 - Scary Monsters
Word Count: 231

Author's Note: Dennis Creevey borrowed from [livejournal.com profile] kingcreevey with permission, and Five-Year-Old!Ten from [livejournal.com profile] rude_not_ginger. Inspired by this, and Dennis's Companionverse.
With apologies to MJ for making her pup the monster of this prompt, but really, what's scarier than a five-year-old Ten?
eleventh_doctor: (the angsty icon)
The Doctor needs to be understood.

It’s a trait common to every species in the universe. Everyone needs someone to share their woes with, to connect with and finish each other’s sentences because they know their fellow so well. The Doctor is jealous, because people- all over the universe, people- are bonding and understanding, and she doesn’t have that.

continued )


Community: [livejournal.com profile] oncoming_storms
Prompt: 1.8 - I need this one thing from you...
Word Count: 711
Warning: Very minute spoilerish for the end of the third season. Probably most people know it already, but there you go.

Archiving. Sorry if you've seen this already.
eleventh_doctor: (the time lady icon)
It was sunny and nauseatingly bright outside. He shifted his position on the bench. He should’ve told Shana he was sick. It wouldn’t have been a lie; his head hurt like the morning after. He thought wistfully that a night before would have been fun, but he was sure there hadn’t been one to speak of. He had very clear memories of a night spent hitting the books with a cup of coffee and a lamp with a bulb that kept burning out for his company.

Just a bloody headache, run-of-the-mill and average. He clutched his head. ‘Take your niece out for a walk to the park, Mike.’ Right, Shan, he thought bitterly. Take your little monster out of the flat for you so you can spend some quality time with your pig of a boyfriend.

Where was Alice, anyway? He squinted at the playground. Who let all the kids in? How was he supposed to tell which was his? Where the hell had she got to? He left the bench behind, searching the recreation ground and panicking. She wasn’t on the slides, the seesaw, or the monkey bars. He pictured her wandering into the street to play, easy prey for a passing car. He resisted the urge to randomly grab kids and spin them around so he could see their faces. Wouldn’t look good.

Want another sweetie!” screeched a voice pitched high enough to shatter nearby windows. He clutched his head again and ran towards the voice. Alice.

Random Encounters of the Third Kind )


Community: [livejournal.com profile] oncoming_storms
Prompt: 1.5, Appearances Can Be Deceiving
Word Count: 775
Warning: There be a bit of swearing here.
eleventh_doctor: (the TARDIS icon)
The TARDIS drifted, spinning through the Time Vortex with no set destination. The Doctor was among the scores of books stored in the TARDIS library. She’d had a few adventures recently, and the time in between them and her next adventure seemed like a good time to take a break and catch up on a few novels she had recently picked up in her travels. She had been enjoying them up until the point when a distress signal piped through the TARDIS, loud and insistent. The Doctor sighed. “Oh, all right. And I was just getting to the good part.”


The source of the distress signal was a junker. Complete rubbish. The Doctor registered surprise that it was capable of sending out a signal more than two feet, much less to a ship drifting through the Time Vortex. Nevertheless, she dutifully set coordinates for the ship and soon materialized in a dark storeroom filled with dusty, dilapidated spare mechanical parts.

Rest Under Cut )


Community: [livejournal.com profile] oncoming_storms
Prompt: 1.2, "Distress Signal"
Word Count: 1,087
Rating: G

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