lizbee: A sketch of myself (Default)
[personal profile] lizbee
Summary: "Sorry, but what are you doing on Earth? In Tesco? ...Existing? This is reality, isn't it? Not some kind of hallucination? Although why I'd hallucinate you, Narvin, is ... wait, back to my first question. What are you doing here?"
Rated: PG-13 AS USUAL
Spoilers: Gallifrey's "Panacea".
Notes: Inspired by [livejournal.com profile] ladyvivien's Saxon theory.



Last of the Time Lords (Mostly)
by LizBee



"Oh," said Narvin with a sniff, putting down the aubergine he'd been contemplating. "It's you."

"Narvin?"

Befuddlement suited the Doctor very well, Narvin decided.

"Been having fun, playing at being the last of the Time Lords?"

Befuddlement mixed with displeasure, and a little bit of fear, like a student unexpectedly caught in the middle of a prank, standing around blushing while the flutterwings consumed the prototype gene models.

"What?" the Doctor said.

"What is it they've been calling you now? 'The Lonely God'?"

A passing human woman gave him an odd look, and hurried her children away.

"Something like that," the Doctor mumbled. "Sorry, but what are you doing on Earth? In Tesco? ...Existing in this temporal reality?" He looked about wildly. "This is reality, isn't it? Not some kind of hallucination? Although why I'd hallucinate you, Narvin, is ... wait, back to my first question. What are you doing here?"

Narvin gave him a disdainful look. "Grocery shopping," he said. "Did the Time War cause mental damage? Don't worry, no one will notice."

"So you do remember the War!" The Doctor gave a sudden jump, nearly causing a pile of oranges to collapse. "Wait, no, Matthias said you'd vanished. Something about a Time Scoop and all the biodata vanishing along with you, and Leela and K9 ... K9!"

"He's not here," Narvin said.

"Of course not, he'd be completely conspicuous. Is he ... not alive, he'd be all snippish if I tried to say he was alive..."

"He remained on Braxiatel's planetoid with Leela," said Narvin, keeping his voice down so as not to disturb the natives. "Protecting the biodata."

"Oh, good dog."

"Braxiatel," Narvin added, guessing what was about to come next, "having had the notion that he could preserve Gallifrey from the coming destruction."

"Typical Brax; he crossed his timestream more than I did. Is he around?"

Narvin gritted his teeth. "In a sense," he said.

"What kind of sense?"

"Been paying much attention to politics?"

"I haven't spent much time in this century lately. Martha – that's my friend, she's traveling with me – she likes a bit of adventure. We just came back to get some milk, and she ran into an old friend and stopped for coffee. I hope she hasn't been abducted or anything. Be inconvenient. I'm not in the mood to be inconvenienced."

"Never mind, then."

The Doctor looked up from his examination of a satsuma. "What do you mean, never mind?"

"Well, if you don't want to be inconvenienced, you might be happier not knowing what Braxiatel's doing."

"Narvin," said the Doctor quietly, "tell me."

"He's running the country," Narvin spat. He pointed to a rack of magazines. "As far as we can tell, he's taking over the world."

"What?"

This time, Narvin found no pleasure in the Doctor's befuddlement.


*


"I mean, why would he do that? It's not like him at all." The Doctor finished his drink, added the empty glass to the pile on the counter and signalled to the barman. "Brax was a behind-the-scenes man. Operating from the shadows and all that. Played her like a Venusian fiddle ... tried to say something, but she accused me of being jealous. Me!"

Narvin sipped his mostly-full drink and let the Doctor ramble. He had more important things on his mind than the Doctor's bruised ego, like overthrowing the government and getting the groceries like he'd promised.

"So how are you here anyway?" the Doctor asked suddenly.

Narvin held out his wrist and let the Doctor feel his single pulse.

"Chameleon arch?"

"Braxiatel thought it'd get me out of the way," said Narvin. "And it did, for a while. He didn't realise that agents of the CIA can circumvent the neural rerouting."

"But you're not a proper Time Lord," said the Doctor.

"No," Narvin admitted.

"Shame," said the Doctor. He didn't sound entirely sincere. "Useful trick, though."

"Once you've found half a dozen agents living out their lives on primitive rocks with no memory of their true selves, you begin to regret the existence of that bloody machine."

"Is there a..." the Doctor hesitated, "watch or ... something? Holding the Time Lord bits?"

"Saxon has them," said Narvin darkly.

Outside, it had begun to rain.

"Oh. Good." The Doctor started on his next drink. "But why, though? What possible good can come out of taking over the world? For him, I mean. Isn't he supposed to be rebuilding Gallifrey?"

"Picture," said Narvin, "a new Eye of Harmony beneath Westminster. Or Versailles, maybe. He sounded very keen on Versailles."

"It's a lovely place. The French throw a good party. Or they did, I haven't been there for a few centuries." The bartender gave the Doctor an odd look. "Let's see, arcane rituals, obscure language, intricate hierarchies, silly clothes, it's just the place for the resurrection of the Time Lords. But there goes the neighbourhood. What would Nancy Mitford say?"

"I can't imagine," said Narvin.

"And Romana, is she...?"

"Human."

"And you wouldn't share your precious CIA secrets with her."

Narvin snorted.

"Well," said the Doctor, "I guess this means we need to overthrow the government."

"I think you've had enough, mate," said the passing barman.

"Is Saxon human?" the Doctor asked.

"As human as you or I," said Narvin. "Or so his medical reports say, not that I expect you'll appreciate the work I put in to access them."

"But he didn't use the chameleon arch?"

"Retro-genetic cellular sculpting. It's not just for the idle rich anymore."

"Human is the new black."

To change the subject, Narvin said, "What about your friend? Human?"

"Who can tell these days? I met her mum, though. Strong hands."

"Probably human, then. Can't be helped, I suppose."

"I should give her a call," said the Doctor. "Tell her to finish up and find an appropriately revolutionary outfit."

"Go on, then," said Narvin. He watched the Doctor make his way through the crowd, moving quite steadily for a man with a probable blood-alcohol level of 3.8. He waited until the Doctor was well and truly out of sight, then pulled his own phone from his pocket.


*


The Doctor's friend was indeed human. She took the news that the Prime Minister was a slightly deranged alien art collector with considerable aplomb.

"Couldn't help but notice you left a couple of small details out," said Narvin while she was distracted.

"Well, you know, Time Lord politics is confusing enough for us, let alone a human..."

"Your ego may be a bigger threat to this planet than Braxiatel."

The Doctor said something that Narvin didn't quite catch. It sounded like, "Your face is a threat to this planet", but Narvin didn't ask him to repeat it.

"Are we going?" Martha said.

"Right," agreed the Doctor. "Let's bring about revolution."

"One moment," said Narvin, looking about as they left the pub.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts," said the Doctor.

"Not at all. I'm just waiting for the fourth member of our party."

The Doctor looked back at him, eyebrows raised. Which meant he didn't see the approaching fist until it had collided with his jaw and sent him flying into a puddle.

"You!" snapped Romana, rubbing her hand. "Come waltzing in after everything's gone to pieces, destroy the damn planet and go slinking off to turn the vortex into your personal playground! Without even stopping to wonder if anyone might have been stuck on some useless planetoid while Braxiatel crossed the line from 'eccentric' to 'dribbling lunatic'! Not to mention spending all this time on Earth. I only have one heart! I could kill you! And then kill you again, and then once more for good luck!"

"Don't kick him," said Narvin, holding her back while Martha helped the Doctor to his feet. "We're going to need him."

"For target practice, I hope."

"Or a distraction."

Romana became still.

"Fine," she said, "but if he's killed--"

"Hey!" the Doctor.

"I mean, tragically and accidentally murdered by people who are definitely on the other side even if there are no witnesses to prove it, I'm taking his TARDIS."

"Sounds fair," said Narvin.

"To you, maybe," said the Doctor.

Romana kicked him again. This time, Narvin didn't try to stop her.



end
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

January 2026

S M T W T F S
    123
45678 910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 15th, 2026 07:48 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios