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Rating: G
Characters: Ten
Timeline: Post The Runaway Bride I suppose. No spoilers for season three.
Summary: The Doctor was tired of brown.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and the various producers who've shaped the show. It's not even remotely mine.
A/N: This one has been sitting on my computer for awhile.
The Doctor was tired of brown.
Brown was so dull. It was the colour of bark, of dirt, of rings left behind on white table cloths by spilled cups of coffee. Brown was the colour of sand…
He stared harder at his reflection. It was the same mirror where he had first decided on this outfit, at a Christmas so long ago. But why brown? With the holiday season, you’d think he would have chosen something festive. A splash of colour to liven up the golden hue of the TARDIS interior.
But not too much colour. He had learned his lesson during his sixth incarnation. Maybe that’s why he had been so mean. To compensate for the fact that no one took him seriously when he was dressed brighter than a clown.
The Doctor shifted positions, trying to look at himself from all angles. The suit itself wasn’t a bad choice. The pinstripes made him look taller. And it definitely wasn’t a cricketing outfit. Mighty Rassilon, what had he been thinking then? Must have been the regeneration. That one had left him in a sorry state, though not any worse than his most recent regeneration.
Brown was so bland. He practically blended in with the walls. So much life out in the universe and he looked like wallpaper.
He whipped off the jacket and threw it onto the hat stand. A wardrobe the size of a stadium. There must have been something else. All those humans he took in, always leaving their stuff behind. He kept it all. Never tossed any of it out. Plenty of space in the TARDIS. Who else would want it? Highland kilts, Victorian dresses, garish blouses, lamé catsuits.
But no clothes from the 21st century. Went out for washing. A scrap of purple in the console room was all that was left.
Purple. Now there was a colour he hadn’t tried yet. Purple was the colour of royalty, wasn’t it? Time Lord, royalty. Certainly seemed close enough. Purple. Nothing rhymed with purple. The colour of eggplants.
The Doctor shoved aside a duffle coat. More brown. Did he have an obsession with brown? How now brown cow. Hmm, brown rhymed with a lot of things. Clown. Down. Frown.
Blue. The TARDIS was blue. Wasn’t it time that he matched? Or would that make him eccentric? Like the people who dressed up their dogs in ridiculous little jumpers during the winter. But he was the Doctor. Eccentricity was his forte. He could get away with wearing anything because the universe was like that. Open-minded, always changing. Ruffles? Those were fine. Question mark jumper? Who cared.
Blue. Colour of the sky, of water, of tranquility.
The Doctor liked blue. It could go with anything.
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Date: 2007-07-17 01:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-18 12:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-17 08:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-18 12:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-17 09:56 am (UTC)*squeezes him*
Loved it!
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Date: 2007-07-18 12:20 am (UTC)Glad you liked it!
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Date: 2007-07-17 07:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-18 12:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-23 02:47 am (UTC)The Doctor was tired of brown.
Tired of brown, or running away from the memories it provokes in him?
no subject
Date: 2007-10-23 03:15 pm (UTC)