Lost In Translation

Monkeys

LizBeth:

There was no way in hell he was going to learn how to fly the TARDIS. I did most of the work this time and he still royally screwed up. "No, Wild Cat, it's definitely not the fifth moon of Cindie Colesta."

My brother frowned at the distance. "I think I can see a Ryman's."

Then the dimensional threshold sparked and exploded, throwing us both to the park grass as the TARDIS dematerialised. "Wild Cat! Come on, Gorgeous, stop!"

It was no use, she just went so we were stuck on Earth, Amy lost somewhere in the universe. Meaning we had to find something to work with and find out what happened, a note from future Wild Cat in a shop to say a house with two rooms for rent. I hated living with others, but I needed to get the TARDIS and Wild Cat back. 

The next day we found the address and knocked on the door, a bloke opening it holding pink fluffy keys. "I love you."

"Well, that's good because we're your new lodgers." My brother smiled, not missing a beat as he took the keys. "Do you know, this is going to be easier than expected."

"But I only put up the second advert today." The guy, Craig Owens, basically what you saw was what you got, frowned, looking between us confused. Well, I was wearing the mask Vincent painted. "I didn't put my address."

"Well, aren't you lucky we came anyway?" Please stop talking, Doctor. "More lucky than you know. I'm less of a young professional, more of an ancient amateur, but this is my sister who is frankly an absolute dream."

Craig was very confused. "Hang on a minute, mate. I don't know if I want either of you staying. And give me back these keys. You can't have these."

As usual, he misunderstood. Honestly, I just wanted to Suggest to him, but he didn't shut up. "Yes, quite right. Have some rent." Over went the bag that had the contents of the ATM I'd just emptied it. Well, not like we needed it for anything after this, I'd already bought the supplies I'd need. "That's probably quite a lot, isn't it? Is it a lot? I can never tell." He moved us into the hallway as I frowned at the flickering lights. "Don't spend it all on sweets, unless you like sweets. I like sweets."

I knew letting him buy licorice allsorts was a bad idea. Sugar high now, desperate for the bathroom later. "I'm Professor Elizabeth Caine, this is my brother, the Doctor-" Who was being weirder still in giving him air kisses. "I apologise in advance for him."

"Craig Owens. The Doctor?"

"Well, that's what they call me. I don't know why." Because you told us to call you it, Brother. "I call me the Doctor, too. Still don't know why." You forgot your real name, we had already established this. "Who lives upstairs?"

He shrugged. "Just some bloke."

Highly doubted it. "What does he look like?"

"Normal. He's very quiet." There was a crash as he spoke, coming from upstairs. "Usually. Sorry, who are you again?" He'd gone into the living room kitchen area. "Hello? Excuse me?"

There was a patch of mold on the ceiling, catching his interest. "Ah. I suppose that's dry rot."

"Or damp. Or mildew."

A look was sent my way and I shook my head, playing with a wayward curl. "Or none of the above."

"I'll get someone to fix it."

"No, I'll fix it. Sissy's allergic to mold, makes her ill." Everything makes me ill, or used to. "I'm good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister." Please shut up. "No, I'm the Doctor, don't call me Rotmeister. This is the most beautiful parlour I have ever seen. You're obviously a man of impeccable taste. We can stay, Craig, can't we? Say we can."