For the record, I haven’t seen the episode where Ten and Eleven are both there at the same time. But I did have this dream and write it down before that episode came out. They totally stole the idea from my dream. *nods seriously* (I want to see it so bad… Eventually. No, I still haven’t seen Eleven yet. I’ve only seen two and a half-ish seasons. I’m very behind. What can I say. Time. I need more time. Timey-wimey.)
A Tale of Two Doctors
(A Doctor Who Dream-Turned-Fanfiction)
The Tenth Doctor and the Eleventh Doctor are both around at the same time, and are waiting around in a dentist’s office, arguing. Because if you put two different versions of the Doctor together at the same time, they’re of course going to argue.
They’re arguing about dogs. Specifically whether, if you cross a breed of dog that’s big, fluffy, and intelligent, with a breed that’s small, short-haired and stupid, do you get dogs of a medium size, normal-length hair and average intelligence? They both take different views on the subject and are going at it with spirit.
I stand off to the side, listening to them and being quite amused, and there’s also the dentist and various people off to the other side. For some reason the office looks suspiciously like a store-room, full of lots of big boxes and crates, two of which Ten and Eleven are sitting on while they argue. It’s quite fantastically marvelous to watch.
All of a sudden there is a loud disturbance.
Bang! Crash! Bang!
A banging on the door, as of someone trying to get in. Going by past dreams, I know it could be something really creepy, so I at once start looking around to see if there’s a place to hide.
This is the smart thing to do.
I detect a closet and deem it a good discovery, and turn to watch what’s going on.
The two Doctors are still bickering, but someone else—alas!—quite foolishly opens the door.
And starts blasting people all over the place.
Ten and Eleven both jump up and start making the expected cries of alarm to the effect of “No!” and “It can’t be!” and “Daleks don’t exist anymore!”
I suggest, “Apparently they do, given that one is about to exterminate you. Hide?”
As the only bystander to survive, I show them the closet I’d found. Ten bravely and/or foolishly distracts the Dalek:
“Look! This is how you shave an eyebrow off with a sonic screwdriver!” He demonstrates on himself with an electronic humming buzz and a flash of blue light.
Eleven meanwhile pulls out the blaster weapony thing Jack Harkness had and blasts at the closet door with another flash of blue light, to see if it’s blastable, which it isn’t.
“It’s safe!” he decides.
Thus cheered, I evict a bunch of boxes and closet stuff from inside so there will be more space. The closet has lots of stuff, including, inexplicably, a small and completely adorable-looking otter curled up in a corner, who gets up and patters swiftly off past me while I stare in a sort of melted-by-adorableness-astonishment. Then, shaking free from my daydream, I hastily return to the task at hand.
With the closet cleared, Eleven and I jump in and call for Ten to hurry. The Dalek goes back into action and Ten yelps and dodges, narrowly missing an exterminator blast. (Those Daleks should really go into the pest-control business…)
Ten scuttles toward the closet, yelling, “I hope my eyebrow grows back soon!” He zips inside with us. “It was far too nice of an eyebrow to waste!”
We slam the door and bolt it shut, and watch through the suddenly-transparent closet door as the Dalek scrolls up toward us. It starts talking to the Doctors, trying to intimidate them, or else to annoy them to death—or knock their ears off with its annoying buzzing voice.
They yell back at it: “You can’t get in! So—Neeaaah!”
The Dalek tries to blast the door. But . . . it. doesn’t. work. We actually got away! Since when does that ever happen in a dream? The scary “it” of the dream always gets you!
But not when it’s Ten and Eleven and me—No.
We are just too fantastic to be exterminated.
(Sorry for all the extra Ten pics. I haven’t met Eleven yet so I can’t love him yet. …Actually, I’m not sorry at all.)