3rd Person POV
The driver cracked the whip and the carriage moves down the street. "Come on, you're losing them!" The Doctor cried. "Everything in order, Mister Dickens?" The driver asked him. "No! It is not!" He snapped. "What did he say?" The Doctor looked back at the man with confusion and excitement across his face. "Let me say this first. I'm not without a sense of humour." Dickens said. "Dickens?" The Doctor asked.
"Yes." The man simply replied. "Charles Dickens?" The Doctor restated. "Yes." Dickens repeated. "The Charles Dickens?" He said again. "Should I remove the gentleman, sir?" The driver asked. "Charles Dickens? You're brilliant, you are. Completely one hundred percent brilliant. I've read them all. Great Expectations, Oliver Twist and what's the other one, the one with the ghost?" The Doctor rambled. "A Christmas Carol?" Dickens provided. "No, no, no, the one with the trains. The Signal Man, that's it. Terrifying! The best short story ever written. You're a genius." The Doctor praised. 0You want me to get rid of him, sir?" The driver asked again. "Er, no, I think he can stay." Dickens was impressed by the Doctor's praise for his work.
"Honestly, Charles. Can I call you Charles? I'm such a big fan." The Doctor said. "A what? A big what?" Charles was stumped by the Doctor's words. "Fan. Number one fan, that's me." The Doctor smiled. "How exactly are you a fan? In what way do you resemble a means of keeping oneself cool?" The Doctor realized that Charles didn't understand and tried to explain. "No, it means fanatic, devoted to. Mind you, I've got to say, that American bit in Martin Chuzzlewit, what's that about? Was that just padding or what? I mean, it's rubbish, that bit." The Doctor admitted. "I thought you said you were my fan." By this point, Charles was beyond confused. "Ah, well, if you can't take criticism. Go on, do the death of Little Nell, it cracks me up. No, sorry, forget about that. Come on, faster!" He yelled at the driver.
"Who exactly is in that hearse? "My friend. She's only nineteen. Well, one of them's nineteen. It's my fault. Their in my care, and now she's in danger. The other one. She's my age. In a way. I'm not worried at her, she's got a mean slap." He told Charles, rubbing his cheek, remembering when she slapped him. "Why are we wasting my time talking about dry old books? This is much more important. Driver, be swift! The chase is on!" He yelled at the driver, earning a 'yes sir!' "Attaboy, Charlie." The Doctor laughed. "Nobody calls me Charlie." Charles muttered. "The ladies do." The Doctor teased. "How do you know that?" Charles asked. "I told you, I'm your number one-" The Doctor started. "Number one fan." Charles finished.
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The Girl Who Survived (Doctor Who)
Fanfiction"Oh yeah?! What's stopping me from running away? Huh? You know. There's a reason I'm called The Rebel. It's because I don't follow rules. Especially rules given to me by some tin pepper shakers! Bye. Bye!" ••• The Rebel thought she was the last Time...
