[Doctor Who] "Bloody Fanboy..." (PG)
Nov. 8th, 2012 06:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mtxref_ficAuthor's Note: Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic's Any fandom, any + any/any, One character is one of us (a ficcer, if not a slasher/shipper) and ships two other characters in the fandom like woah. The two characters that are shipped are *actually* together, and somehow find out about the third character's fics.. Also ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fic_promptly's Author's choice, author's choice, writing fanfiction about your team/significant other Featuring Nine, Rose, Jack and some of Jack's extra-curricular activities on board the TARDIS (No, no, no, *NOT* those!). I have had this idea nibbling at my brain for some weeks now and it seemed to have gotten confirmed (via meta: I love when the gods of meta smile on a fan's crazy notions), when I discovered that John Barrowman and his sister Carole co-authored a new Torchwood novel (and isn't a tie-in novel mostly a fanfic with the blessing of the IP owners??). So, when I saw this prompt, I knew just what to write...
Laundry day on the TARDIS and Rose was collecting Jack's things from his room. While stripping the sheets off his bunk, she found the notebooks stashed under the mattress. Several notebooks. Wondering what he could possibly need them for, she cracked open the cover of one, suspecting it was his journal. All the better to find out more about their travelling companion: he told the best stories, but wasn't always the most forth-coming about himself.
She giggled, nervy but delighted. The Doctor leaned in and ran his lips gently over Rose's quivering--
She snapped the cover shut, stifling a small gasp of horror and amusement. The cheeky devil must have been snooping about the door to the Doctor's cabin, though fortunately, the TARDIS located them at a considerable distance from each other.
She leafed through the book, scanning a few random pages and the writing thereon.
The Doctor sighed as Jack ran his hand from his chest, down his lean, muscled belly and onward toward --
"Oi, Rose, what's keepin' you --" the Doctor called from the door. She looked up, trying to hide her awkward smirk, and trying to shove the notebook back under the mattress. "What's that you're hidin' there?" he asked, his eye on Rose's hand.
"Oh, this, I, erm, found it when I was changin' the linens," Rose fumbled.
"Snoopin' in his journal? Just the sort of thing he'd enjoy your doin if he knew," the Doctor grumbled.
"It's a journal but... not really," Rose said. "He's been writin' bits about ..us, you and I and... him and you."
"Give it here," he said, holding out his hand. She handed it over, trying not blush and trying not to smirk at the same time.
The Doctor flipped through several pages, pausing along the way to scan the handwriting on several. "Snogging with Jane Austen: like that would happen; smart woman, cheekier than most people think, but harder to catch than he'd like. Wishful thinking," he said. Another few pages. "Marcus Scipio Astrogallum. I met him: not unlikely, but hard to catch."
"Who's that?"
"Roman centurion: manned a garrison in Cardiff, or what would become Cardiff," the Doctor said, flipping more pages. His eyes grew wide and he held the book further away from himself. "Oh, that's..." he tilted the book and tilted his head with it.
Rose peeped over his shoulder and reared back, blinking. "How many legs??" she asked.
"Sixty-four, not a hundred," Jack called from the doorway.
The Doctor turned, hiding the book behind him and giving Jack an innocent smile. "Back from your errands, Jack?" he asked.
"Back in time to find people snooping in my diary," Jack replied, trying to sound cross, but the way his pale eyes danced, he had wanted them to find it. "Can't a fellow have any privacy around here?"
"I was changing the linens, I found it then," Rose replied.
"Went looking to see what was holding her up, thought maybe she'd gotten lost in the corridors again, found her looking at this," the Doctor said. "Bit too flowery, your descriptions, and no, I don't smell of new leather."
"Oh, writing tips: you're dancing around the fact, Doctor," Jack teased.
"What fact?" Rose asked, innocently.
"I knew it! I called it: you two really are an item, or you wouldn't be critiquing it," Jack said, holding out a hand. "Hand it over."
"Only if you make some corrections, rewrite a few things," the Doctor said, holding the notebook out of Jack's reach.
"Not the ones about you and me, though," Jack begged.
"No, the one with Jane Austen: obvious wish fulfillment. Bit too obvious: anyone can see it," the Doctor said. "Obvious wish fulfillment makes for plaguey writing."
"You're still hedging, Doctor: you want me to rewrite the ones with you and Rose," Jack argued, frowning, but still cheeky. "Keeping her all to yourself, eh?"
"No, and don't go writing us into a three-way," the Doctor groused.
"How would that work?" Rose asked.
"You're better off not asking," the Doctor cut in. To Jack, he added, "And don't answer that one."
"You're cramping my style here, Doctor," Jack said, starting to get genuinely grumpy himself. "Hand it over."
"Only if you make the rewrites," the Doctor argued.
"All right, already," Jack groused. "Consider it done."
"Thank you, and Miss Jane would thank you," the Doctor said, handing over the notebook.
"You're a hard man, all this for a bit of fiction," Jack grumbled.
"Only because you'd made it obvious, you'd been listening at my door," the Doctor replied, smirking.
comment_fic's Any fandom, any + any/any, One character is one of us (a ficcer, if not a slasher/shipper) and ships two other characters in the fandom like woah. The two characters that are shipped are *actually* together, and somehow find out about the third character's fics.. Also fic_promptly's Author's choice, author's choice, writing fanfiction about your team/significant other Featuring Nine, Rose, Jack and some of Jack's extra-curricular activities on board the TARDIS (No, no, no, *NOT* those!). I have had this idea nibbling at my brain for some weeks now and it seemed to have gotten confirmed (via meta: I love when the gods of meta smile on a fan's crazy notions), when I discovered that John Barrowman and his sister Carole co-authored a new Torchwood novel (and isn't a tie-in novel mostly a fanfic with the blessing of the IP owners??). So, when I saw this prompt, I knew just what to write...Laundry day on the TARDIS and Rose was collecting Jack's things from his room. While stripping the sheets off his bunk, she found the notebooks stashed under the mattress. Several notebooks. Wondering what he could possibly need them for, she cracked open the cover of one, suspecting it was his journal. All the better to find out more about their travelling companion: he told the best stories, but wasn't always the most forth-coming about himself.
She giggled, nervy but delighted. The Doctor leaned in and ran his lips gently over Rose's quivering--
She snapped the cover shut, stifling a small gasp of horror and amusement. The cheeky devil must have been snooping about the door to the Doctor's cabin, though fortunately, the TARDIS located them at a considerable distance from each other.
She leafed through the book, scanning a few random pages and the writing thereon.
The Doctor sighed as Jack ran his hand from his chest, down his lean, muscled belly and onward toward --
"Oi, Rose, what's keepin' you --" the Doctor called from the door. She looked up, trying to hide her awkward smirk, and trying to shove the notebook back under the mattress. "What's that you're hidin' there?" he asked, his eye on Rose's hand.
"Oh, this, I, erm, found it when I was changin' the linens," Rose fumbled.
"Snoopin' in his journal? Just the sort of thing he'd enjoy your doin if he knew," the Doctor grumbled.
"It's a journal but... not really," Rose said. "He's been writin' bits about ..us, you and I and... him and you."
"Give it here," he said, holding out his hand. She handed it over, trying not blush and trying not to smirk at the same time.
The Doctor flipped through several pages, pausing along the way to scan the handwriting on several. "Snogging with Jane Austen: like that would happen; smart woman, cheekier than most people think, but harder to catch than he'd like. Wishful thinking," he said. Another few pages. "Marcus Scipio Astrogallum. I met him: not unlikely, but hard to catch."
"Who's that?"
"Roman centurion: manned a garrison in Cardiff, or what would become Cardiff," the Doctor said, flipping more pages. His eyes grew wide and he held the book further away from himself. "Oh, that's..." he tilted the book and tilted his head with it.
Rose peeped over his shoulder and reared back, blinking. "How many legs??" she asked.
"Sixty-four, not a hundred," Jack called from the doorway.
The Doctor turned, hiding the book behind him and giving Jack an innocent smile. "Back from your errands, Jack?" he asked.
"Back in time to find people snooping in my diary," Jack replied, trying to sound cross, but the way his pale eyes danced, he had wanted them to find it. "Can't a fellow have any privacy around here?"
"I was changing the linens, I found it then," Rose replied.
"Went looking to see what was holding her up, thought maybe she'd gotten lost in the corridors again, found her looking at this," the Doctor said. "Bit too flowery, your descriptions, and no, I don't smell of new leather."
"Oh, writing tips: you're dancing around the fact, Doctor," Jack teased.
"What fact?" Rose asked, innocently.
"I knew it! I called it: you two really are an item, or you wouldn't be critiquing it," Jack said, holding out a hand. "Hand it over."
"Only if you make some corrections, rewrite a few things," the Doctor said, holding the notebook out of Jack's reach.
"Not the ones about you and me, though," Jack begged.
"No, the one with Jane Austen: obvious wish fulfillment. Bit too obvious: anyone can see it," the Doctor said. "Obvious wish fulfillment makes for plaguey writing."
"You're still hedging, Doctor: you want me to rewrite the ones with you and Rose," Jack argued, frowning, but still cheeky. "Keeping her all to yourself, eh?"
"No, and don't go writing us into a three-way," the Doctor groused.
"How would that work?" Rose asked.
"You're better off not asking," the Doctor cut in. To Jack, he added, "And don't answer that one."
"You're cramping my style here, Doctor," Jack said, starting to get genuinely grumpy himself. "Hand it over."
"Only if you make the rewrites," the Doctor argued.
"All right, already," Jack groused. "Consider it done."
"Thank you, and Miss Jane would thank you," the Doctor said, handing over the notebook.
"You're a hard man, all this for a bit of fiction," Jack grumbled.
"Only because you'd made it obvious, you'd been listening at my door," the Doctor replied, smirking.
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(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-09 12:12 am (UTC)And to think this came via my little prompt! Haven't watched Nine in soooo long, and now you've given me a craving!
THank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-09 01:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-09 03:33 am (UTC)I wonder if you ever saw a part of that show when hosts were reading parts from fanfics to David Tennant and his comment to Jack/Doctor one was "That one's from John Barrowman's blog."
Because this really reminded me of it, even with a different doctor.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-09 06:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-09 06:57 am (UTC)