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Fanfic #1

The story I wrote that won first place (out of 6 stories) at the Tapuz forum fanfic competition. The theme was “How the new Doctor met his new companion”. (After series 7, before we knew who the new Doctor is)

The original story’s tone is very local / Israeli, which is bound to be lost in translation, so if you can read Hebrew please read the original.

Link to Fanfic #2 (English translation) which was tied in 2nd place.

Hover over words in italics for explanations.

Translation is not yet final.

-=-=-=-=-

“I lost her.”
“Dude, I’m sorry. Another vodka?”
“Sure.”
“Orange juice?”
“Orange juice.”
“Don’t fret, bro. Take it easy. You lose one, you find another.”
“No, you’re not listening. I lost her. I literally lost her. I thought I found her at the end of my timeline, but it was the middle, and when we tried to exit she just fell onwards. See, when you do a cartesian cross between Human timelines and Ti–”
“Dude, that’s your last vodka for the night.”
The Doctor looked at him, puzzled. “I didn’t know there was a limit.”
“Whatever.” Said the bartender. “Did you drive here? What is that around your neck, is that a bicycle lock key? You stoned or something?”

A deep voice interrupted the conversation which, in the Doctor’s opinion, wasn’t going anywhere anyway.
Chaser for the lady.”
“What kind?”
“Whatever you’ve got.”
The Doctor stretched in his chair and, since it was a bar stool, promptly fell over. He got up, straightened his bow tie and, with a large smile, sat down again. He took a sip of the vodka and spat it out. The room was dark, but not too dark. The white spots on the ceiling looked like stars. Loud music played in the background so loud he found it hard to think.
He took the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. When the bartender went into the back of the pub he pointed it at the speakers. The volume dropped and the sonic dropped into his drink. “No, no, no! Don’t do this to me!” He muttered towards the glass. “This is definitely – definitely – not cool!”
He looked right and left and avoided the stares.

Now Mr. “Chaser for the Lady”‘s chat could be heard more clearly.
“So, where are you from?”
“Listen, I really don’t…”
“Oh, come on. Just play along. Are you from around here?”
“No. Now will you leave me alone?”
He put a large hand on her shoulder. When she shoved it away, his other hand discretely spread a small bag of powder into her drink.
The Doctor became anxious. He shook the remaining liquid off his sonic and aimed it for the glass.
Pressed the button -
The sonic made a faint sound -
And went silent.
The Doctor frowned at the sonic. “Seriously? Now?”
The girl, now upset, gulped the entire contents of her glass. Chaser, content, raised his. “Cheers! To us!” and drank from his.
“So, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a magician.”
“A magician, eh?”
“And, don’t take it the wrong way, but… I’m a master at the sleight of hand.”
Chaser gave her a confused blank look, mumbled a few syllables, and then his head fell, fainted, into the bar.
“Idiot.” She growled.

Her gaze crossed the Doctor’s.
“He deserved it, you know.”
“Really?”
“Oh, you think he didn’t?”
“No, I meant, um, are you really a magician?”
“Duh.” She gestured towards the unconscious bully. “C’mon. Help me calm down. Check it out. Pick a card.” Without moving her hand, a deck now appeared in it.
The Doctor’s expression turned, just as quickly as the cards turned up, from smile to wonder.
“Well?”
He hesitantly reached over the unconscious bully’s back and pointed at a card.
“Okay, I’ll need a marker now.” She leaned over and grabbed the wet sonic screwdriver.
“Wait” – he cried – “that’s not a marker!”
“Jeez. Tel Avivis. Yeah, it’s a ‘soft-felt tip pen’ here. We call it a ‘marker’ in Jerusalem.”
She pulled on the base of the “marker”. It buzzed softly.
“Is this how you use it?”
She pushed on its base, and a bright bolt shot out the other end of the screwdriver, straight into the Doctor’s chest.

The doctor was slammed backwards. The girl rushed towards him. He lay on the floor with a pale face, eyes closed, and a deep, dry hole pried through his chest. His entire upper body was charred.
She leaned over.
He suddenly opened his eyes. “No.”
“No what?”
“No, this is not how you use it.” And closed his eyes.

A surge of light emerged from the Doctor’s arms and head. The girl leapt back. A few people at the pub ran away, others stared and pulled out their cameraphones.
After a few seconds the light had vanished.
The hole in the Doctor’s chest healed, leaving just a torn shirt. His body wasn’t charred anymore. His face changed completely. He grew in height, his shoulders now wider. His hands moved frantically over his face and body. He tore a hair from his head.
“Mondas -dammit, just this once, ginger – is that too much to ask for?”
While the people around them rolled their eyes and returned to whatever they were doing, she still looked at him, with her jaw dropped.
“Listen, dude, you really have to teach me that trick.”

“Son of a bitch!” The bartender returned from the back of the pub, furious.
“Son-of-ay-bitch!”
“Did you see that? Some stoner just sat here on a few glasses of vodka and left without paying!”

One Response to Fanfic #1

  1. I really should’ve had the Doctor take a sip (note that he never does, though the bartender does ask if he wants ANOTHER drink) – take a sip, spit it out, and then order another.

    When I wrote this I completely forgot how he reacts to alcohol.

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