Doctor Who - Storm Warning Fan Novelization

Tiddlywinks With Lenin

Emerging from the maintenance halls, the Doctor found himself in the main section of the airship. With mahogany walls and fancy carpet underfoot, it was clear that this was a passenger ship. "Now, this looks promising," he declared into the void. "Living quarters? Cabin Forty-Eight... Well, the numerals suggest what language I might be about to be accused of all sorts in."

The Doctor whipped his head around as he heard a muffled scream and the sounds of something bulky shifting behind one of the doors. "Or maybe I'm wrong. Where did that come from. Here. Cabin Forty-Three. Now, somewhere in here I might just have..." The Doctor pulled out a stethoscope from the abyss of jelly babies, old pieces of cheese, and crumpled pieces of paper that filled his jackets. "Yes, a stethoscope. Conan Doyle's, isn't it? Must return it before he gives up general practice," he mused.

Before placing it to the door, he paused, as if unsure as to what action he should take. "Eavesdropping, Doctor? That's another very bad habit you've picked up," he scolded himself, before continuing on with his bad habit. "Now then..."

On the other side of the door, he could hear a voice. A doctor maybe? Speaking to a patient? "Stop that. I said stop that, hey?" the voice was saying. "That's better. Now, it's only a tiny needle. Don't want you too excitable today, do we? Now, hold still." Clearly not a kind doctor, if he even was one.

"You know, I don't like the sound of this one little bit. Maybe I should—" The Doctor was cut off by a collision with a young girl with light blond curls.

"O-oh!" she cried out as she made impact with him, knocking them both down. The Doctor offered her his hand as they got up, which she gratefully took.

"Is that the greetings over with?" he asked.

"What?"

"Hoh! That's good, isn't it?" He flashed her a quick smile. "Geronimo taught me that."

"Hoh?"

"There, you've got the hang of it already." He continued grinning at her in the somewhat awkward silence that followed.

"What?"

Something in her caught his eyes and his smile dropped like a pin. "Are you—Are you running away from something?" he asked, a knowing hint in his voice.

"Someone," the young girl corrected him.

"No, no, no, no. It's definitely something," he corrected her back. "I can see it just behind your eyes. What you need, is a hiding place."

The young girl laughed a little. That was a good start. It was always best to put others at ease when meeting them. Especially on an airship with cruel not-quite-doctors poking needles into others and young girls colliding into Edwardian adventurers.

"Hiding place, hiding place, hiding place..." The Doctor scanned around, lightly tapping his forefinger on his lips until he saw what he was looking for. "Ah!" he quietly exclaimed. "Curtains there, perhaps?"

He opened the curtain drapes wide enough so she could slip in first, which she did with a panicked cry of "Yes, whatever!" It was almost as if she suddenly remembered she was being followed.

"Murchford?" came a voice from a few hallways down.

"Come on then, quick!" he whispered, urging her into the space. He then followed her into the musty and dusty old space. Musty and dusty, that rhymed, he thought, before filing the line away for his next poetry book.

"Murchford, whoever you are," came the voice. "I know you're down here somewhere, lassie, and I'll search every one of these cabins if I have to." The voice paused for a moment, perhaps as if he realized just how unsavory such a task would be. Then, the voice started going the opposite direction, muttering, "Oh, have it your own way. No skin off my rosy nose."