A Time for Departure
May. 9th, 2011 06:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: A Time for Departure
Author:
sariagray
Characters/Pairings: Andy Davidson, The Doctor (Ten), mentions of Jack
Word Count: ~1400
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: The teenyist smidge of angst if you squint real hard?
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood. I do not make money off of Torchwood. In fact, it seems as though Torchwood owns and makes money off of ME. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Beta:
analineblue
Summary: PC Andy meets the Doctor. Stuff ensues.
Author’s Note: Written for the
redisourcolor challenge #15. The theme is "Doctor Who Crossover" and the words are "dogma," "incommodious," and "waltzing." The phrase is Any Shakespeare Quote. I chose 'I’ll put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes!' from A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Characters/Pairings: Andy Davidson, The Doctor (Ten), mentions of Jack
Word Count: ~1400
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: The teenyist smidge of angst if you squint real hard?
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood. I do not make money off of Torchwood. In fact, it seems as though Torchwood owns and makes money off of ME. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Beta:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Summary: PC Andy meets the Doctor. Stuff ensues.
Author’s Note: Written for the
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
A/N2: I don't write much Andy or Ten. So I thought I should. This gave me SO MUCH trouble. Special extra thanks to analineblue for looking this over twice. And then I kept playing with it and probably ruined it forever. It was supposed to be a lot darker than it ended up, too.
A Time for Departure
“There is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go.”
-Tennessee Williams
The crowd in the pub was sparse, it being a Tuesday evening mid-Spring. The gentle golden glow of fading sunlight and the balmy weather meant that outdoor dining was on the rise once more and only a few souls had ended up in this dark, quiet place.
It was clean and reputable. No water in the wine, so to speak, and a match was up on a highly polished telly that held pride of place just over the bar. South Africa was taking on Wales again and winning, but the sort of people in the pub weren’t the sort of people to care.
Andy cared, peripherally. He would grit his teeth at all of the appropriate times, mutter irritably when good citizenship called for it, and even raised his pint once or twice when a call was made in Wales’ favor. He couldn’t tell anyone the score if his life depended on it, though.
He knocked back the remainder of his ale and smacked his lips, sighing contentedly.
The bartender, an older bloke graying at the temples who looked far too grandfatherly and dignified to be working at a pub, caught his eye and Andy nodded. One more, and then he’d meander home. Home to a file of notes on the frequent strange happenings of Cardiff. Not that those notes got him anywhere in the long run. Still, it felt good to keep track, like he was doing something. Keeping an eye on Gwen, as it were, even if from afar.
A new pint slid in front of him and Andy nodded his thanks as the old glass was removed. The bartender smiled kindly. While Andy was far from a regular, he liked to assume the man appreciated his presence. While this pub was hardly a hotbed for brawls, having a PC on hand (even off-duty) was probably a boon.
He took a gulp of his drink and flicked his eyes to the screen. Wales was still behind.
The bells on the door jangled and the bartender moved toward the noise almost automatically, his intuition borne of years of service. It was getting darker now, Andy noted; he should get back soon. Not that he had any pressing business, of course, but he liked the idea of a vague routine.
A hand pressed his shoulder and he tensed immediately. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head and was met with bright brown eyes and a huge beaming smile. Manic grins were never reassuring. Just lovely. Hair tousled, glasses slightly askew, and a brown trench coat that was absolutely preposterous in the heat of spring. Probably the sort of nutter that went around flashing unsuspecting ladies in Bute Park.
“Can I help you, mate?”
“Absolutely! Have you seen a man in a long coat? Thinks he’s a bit dashing? Goes by ‘Jack’?”
Well, that could only be one person in Cardiff (he hoped there was only one, at any rate). Andy blinked dazedly as the man peered around the tiny space of the pub.
“Hmm,” the stranger continued. “Thought he’d be here. Likes bars, I think. And people. And aliens, too, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“Right,” Andy muttered as he turned back to his drink. “Well, no, I haven’t seen him. Sorry.”
“What do you know about Torchwood?”
Freezing like a deer in headlights, Andy’s brain warred over whether to protect or badmouth the organization. He settled with wary care.
“Who are you?” he asked as he turned around again.
“I’m the Doctor.”
Taking the offered hand in a parody of a formal shake, Andy raised an eyebrow. “I’m the constable. If we bring in a couple more blokes, we could start our own version of the Village People.”
“What village?” The man craned his neck and looked around curiously.
Andy sighed. Definitely a nutter. And he was rocking back and forth on his heels like an impatient child, to boot.
“PC Andy Davidson,” he reintroduced himself. “I don’t know anything about Torchwood. But I do know Jack. Sort of. I’ve a…uh, friend…who works with him.”
Beaming, the Doctor clapped his hands together. “Brilliant! Come with me.”
With that, he waltzed out of the pub with a gleeful lightness. Andy glanced at his pint before gulping it down and slapping a handful of bills down onto the counter. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose and maybe, just maybe, he could finally find something out about this mysterious special ops group Gwen was working with. Hell, maybe he’d stumbled upon one of those spooky do’s they were always chasing down. Then again, maybe this man and Gwen’s Captain had started a Ridiculous Swishy Coats club.
The first thing he noticed upon stepping out of the pub was a blue police box like what he’d seen on some of the old shows. Standing in the middle of the Plass, no less. He half gawked, half frowned at the fixture and was even more perturbed when it dawned on him that no one was paying it any attention.
The second thing he noticed was the Doctor practically hopping around it.
“Hang on a second,” the Doctor called. “Seems she locked me out again.”
Andy approached in the same non-threatening manner he would employ when confronting a timid child or a wild, rabid creature.
“Who? Your girlfriend?”
The Doctor frowned and touched an overlarge pen with a blue light to the box’s handle. “No, my ship. The Tardis.”
“The what?”
“Tardis. Time and relative dimensions in space. Travel anywhere with -”
“I’m sorry,” Andy interrupted, folding his arms across his chest. “Not quite following you. Time and what through which?”
“It’s a space ship. Also travels through time. Aha! There we go! Come on!”
“In there? Not exactly luxurious accommodations, is it?”
The Doctor gave a wry little smile and opened the door. “Not as incommodious as it looks.”
As he approached the door to the police box, Andy considered the possibility that he had imbibed far more ale than he had previously suspected. But the soft glowing light spilling from the interior intrigued him, and damn it all if Gwen was the only one who got to have adventures. He stepped forward and practically fell over.
“What the -?”
“Yep. Bigger on the inside. Need room for the swimming pool. And the library. I found an old-fashioned cinema a couple of weeks back, too. All it ever seems to show is something called Dogma, though.”
“But…how?”
The door closed behind Andy and he whirled around with a panic that would do a horror film proud.
“Well, I’ve a package for Jack. Some…stuff he’d left lying around last time, thought you could give it to him. But seeing as you’re here…what do you say to a quick trip?”
The Doctor looked so eager that Andy couldn’t keep from feeling a little excited. But then, he considered the fact that he was in an impossible structure with a strange, frenzied man who talked about time and space the way most people talked about the M4.
“Is this what you do, then? Pick up strangers and whisk them off in your box?”
The man practically pouted. “Well, when you put it like that….Just a quick trip and I’ll have you back here before anyone even realizes you’re gone!”
“A quick trip where?” Andy asked as he glanced around what appeared to be the control room.
A control room. In a police box. He must be pissed beyond reckoning.
“Anywhere you’d like! We could go to Barcelona! The planet, not the city, although we could go to the city, too. We could visit in 14…what are you on now? BC, is that what you’re still calling it? But then it was Barcino, so it’s not much the same at all. Or! I could take you to New New York!”
“New New York?” Andy muttered skeptically. “They couldn’t think of a better name?”
“Dunno! But we could go and find out!”
The Doctor was dancing around the center console and making Andy quite dizzy. He reached a hand out to steady himself. When his flesh made contact with the winding support beam, he felt a delicate, vibrant thrum.
“In this?” he clarified.
“Of course in this! How else? ‘I’ll put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes!’”
“I thought you said this was a time machine. Couldn’t you do it a bit faster, then?”
The Doctor scowled and pulled a lever. “I wasn’t being literal. Just quoting a friend.”
Andy smirked for lack of anything better to do.
“Fine,” he said. “Take me to New New York, Doctor.”
Somehow, the Doctor managed to look even more exuberant than Andy had yet seen him.
“Brilliant! Oh, and hang on to something, PC Andy Davidson! This part’s never easy.”
The absolute joy in the Doctor’s voice was a bit disconcerting, but Andy did as he was told. It was a good thing, too.
The End
“There is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go.”
-Tennessee Williams
The crowd in the pub was sparse, it being a Tuesday evening mid-Spring. The gentle golden glow of fading sunlight and the balmy weather meant that outdoor dining was on the rise once more and only a few souls had ended up in this dark, quiet place.
It was clean and reputable. No water in the wine, so to speak, and a match was up on a highly polished telly that held pride of place just over the bar. South Africa was taking on Wales again and winning, but the sort of people in the pub weren’t the sort of people to care.
Andy cared, peripherally. He would grit his teeth at all of the appropriate times, mutter irritably when good citizenship called for it, and even raised his pint once or twice when a call was made in Wales’ favor. He couldn’t tell anyone the score if his life depended on it, though.
He knocked back the remainder of his ale and smacked his lips, sighing contentedly.
The bartender, an older bloke graying at the temples who looked far too grandfatherly and dignified to be working at a pub, caught his eye and Andy nodded. One more, and then he’d meander home. Home to a file of notes on the frequent strange happenings of Cardiff. Not that those notes got him anywhere in the long run. Still, it felt good to keep track, like he was doing something. Keeping an eye on Gwen, as it were, even if from afar.
A new pint slid in front of him and Andy nodded his thanks as the old glass was removed. The bartender smiled kindly. While Andy was far from a regular, he liked to assume the man appreciated his presence. While this pub was hardly a hotbed for brawls, having a PC on hand (even off-duty) was probably a boon.
He took a gulp of his drink and flicked his eyes to the screen. Wales was still behind.
The bells on the door jangled and the bartender moved toward the noise almost automatically, his intuition borne of years of service. It was getting darker now, Andy noted; he should get back soon. Not that he had any pressing business, of course, but he liked the idea of a vague routine.
A hand pressed his shoulder and he tensed immediately. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head and was met with bright brown eyes and a huge beaming smile. Manic grins were never reassuring. Just lovely. Hair tousled, glasses slightly askew, and a brown trench coat that was absolutely preposterous in the heat of spring. Probably the sort of nutter that went around flashing unsuspecting ladies in Bute Park.
“Can I help you, mate?”
“Absolutely! Have you seen a man in a long coat? Thinks he’s a bit dashing? Goes by ‘Jack’?”
Well, that could only be one person in Cardiff (he hoped there was only one, at any rate). Andy blinked dazedly as the man peered around the tiny space of the pub.
“Hmm,” the stranger continued. “Thought he’d be here. Likes bars, I think. And people. And aliens, too, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“Right,” Andy muttered as he turned back to his drink. “Well, no, I haven’t seen him. Sorry.”
“What do you know about Torchwood?”
Freezing like a deer in headlights, Andy’s brain warred over whether to protect or badmouth the organization. He settled with wary care.
“Who are you?” he asked as he turned around again.
“I’m the Doctor.”
Taking the offered hand in a parody of a formal shake, Andy raised an eyebrow. “I’m the constable. If we bring in a couple more blokes, we could start our own version of the Village People.”
“What village?” The man craned his neck and looked around curiously.
Andy sighed. Definitely a nutter. And he was rocking back and forth on his heels like an impatient child, to boot.
“PC Andy Davidson,” he reintroduced himself. “I don’t know anything about Torchwood. But I do know Jack. Sort of. I’ve a…uh, friend…who works with him.”
Beaming, the Doctor clapped his hands together. “Brilliant! Come with me.”
With that, he waltzed out of the pub with a gleeful lightness. Andy glanced at his pint before gulping it down and slapping a handful of bills down onto the counter. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose and maybe, just maybe, he could finally find something out about this mysterious special ops group Gwen was working with. Hell, maybe he’d stumbled upon one of those spooky do’s they were always chasing down. Then again, maybe this man and Gwen’s Captain had started a Ridiculous Swishy Coats club.
The first thing he noticed upon stepping out of the pub was a blue police box like what he’d seen on some of the old shows. Standing in the middle of the Plass, no less. He half gawked, half frowned at the fixture and was even more perturbed when it dawned on him that no one was paying it any attention.
The second thing he noticed was the Doctor practically hopping around it.
“Hang on a second,” the Doctor called. “Seems she locked me out again.”
Andy approached in the same non-threatening manner he would employ when confronting a timid child or a wild, rabid creature.
“Who? Your girlfriend?”
The Doctor frowned and touched an overlarge pen with a blue light to the box’s handle. “No, my ship. The Tardis.”
“The what?”
“Tardis. Time and relative dimensions in space. Travel anywhere with -”
“I’m sorry,” Andy interrupted, folding his arms across his chest. “Not quite following you. Time and what through which?”
“It’s a space ship. Also travels through time. Aha! There we go! Come on!”
“In there? Not exactly luxurious accommodations, is it?”
The Doctor gave a wry little smile and opened the door. “Not as incommodious as it looks.”
As he approached the door to the police box, Andy considered the possibility that he had imbibed far more ale than he had previously suspected. But the soft glowing light spilling from the interior intrigued him, and damn it all if Gwen was the only one who got to have adventures. He stepped forward and practically fell over.
“What the -?”
“Yep. Bigger on the inside. Need room for the swimming pool. And the library. I found an old-fashioned cinema a couple of weeks back, too. All it ever seems to show is something called Dogma, though.”
“But…how?”
The door closed behind Andy and he whirled around with a panic that would do a horror film proud.
“Well, I’ve a package for Jack. Some…stuff he’d left lying around last time, thought you could give it to him. But seeing as you’re here…what do you say to a quick trip?”
The Doctor looked so eager that Andy couldn’t keep from feeling a little excited. But then, he considered the fact that he was in an impossible structure with a strange, frenzied man who talked about time and space the way most people talked about the M4.
“Is this what you do, then? Pick up strangers and whisk them off in your box?”
The man practically pouted. “Well, when you put it like that….Just a quick trip and I’ll have you back here before anyone even realizes you’re gone!”
“A quick trip where?” Andy asked as he glanced around what appeared to be the control room.
A control room. In a police box. He must be pissed beyond reckoning.
“Anywhere you’d like! We could go to Barcelona! The planet, not the city, although we could go to the city, too. We could visit in 14…what are you on now? BC, is that what you’re still calling it? But then it was Barcino, so it’s not much the same at all. Or! I could take you to New New York!”
“New New York?” Andy muttered skeptically. “They couldn’t think of a better name?”
“Dunno! But we could go and find out!”
The Doctor was dancing around the center console and making Andy quite dizzy. He reached a hand out to steady himself. When his flesh made contact with the winding support beam, he felt a delicate, vibrant thrum.
“In this?” he clarified.
“Of course in this! How else? ‘I’ll put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes!’”
“I thought you said this was a time machine. Couldn’t you do it a bit faster, then?”
The Doctor scowled and pulled a lever. “I wasn’t being literal. Just quoting a friend.”
Andy smirked for lack of anything better to do.
“Fine,” he said. “Take me to New New York, Doctor.”
Somehow, the Doctor managed to look even more exuberant than Andy had yet seen him.
“Brilliant! Oh, and hang on to something, PC Andy Davidson! This part’s never easy.”
The absolute joy in the Doctor’s voice was a bit disconcerting, but Andy did as he was told. It was a good thing, too.
The End
no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 10:53 am (UTC)THIS IS MADE OF CAPSLOCK AND EXCLAMATION POINTS AND AWESOME!
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 11:26 am (UTC)and Barcelona, the planet....somehow they never end up there, however hard they try.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 12:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 12:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 04:53 pm (UTC)And you got both their voices brilliantly right.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:34 am (UTC)Jack: Angst!
Ianto: Angst!
Owen: Snark!
Meanwhile, on Raxacoricofallapatorius....
;) <3
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 07:44 pm (UTC)PC Andy, travelling with the Doctor... Not a combination that has ever occurred to me before, but suddenly I really want to read about their adventures in time and space! Andy is so droll and laid back, he'd be a great foil for the Doctor's manic personality!
(And I get to use my Andy icon!)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 02:11 am (UTC)LMAO!!! Oh, Andy!
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 03:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 04:38 am (UTC)the best part about this story? I could TOTALLY SEE IT HAPPENING!!! You got both voices and everything PERFECT.
i read through this like seven times and couldn't get over the absolute wonder of it.
I LOVE your Doctor. pretty much cause he's totally THE Doctor... and your Andy is awesome.
I wanna be a part of this. Please? i have a rediculous swishy coat. :D
PLEASE MAKE MORE OF THIS HAPPEN!
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 10:09 am (UTC)I'm so happy it worked! *dnaces excitedly* I cannot tell you how much trouble this gave me.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 10:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 07:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 10:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-10 10:53 am (UTC)Yep Andy, hold on tight.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-12 12:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-11 06:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-12 12:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-14 05:26 am (UTC)But enough about me - really, loved this. Would like to see the continuing adventures of Andy and Ten!
no subject
Date: 2011-05-14 01:42 pm (UTC)The Doctor can be difficult to write. But I know you can do it! I have faith in you!
no subject
Date: 2011-05-16 09:41 pm (UTC)Thanks for the vote of confidence, though. I need it. I'm not feeling the love at the moment, at least not from the keyboard. It's fighting back big time.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-15 03:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 08:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 08:07 pm (UTC)