[Fonk]

To rather devastating effect! Great work, Mr Iczer! 😀

[Fonk]

You write good stories, sir – that's beautiful! Thanks for posting it up. ;D

[Fonk]

I'm sorry that all this has befallen you. Hopefully next year will be a better year.

[Fonk]

That's an awesome and sexy piece of art, right there. Oh yes it is! Thanks for posting! 😉

[Fonk]

NOTES

1) Characters are not mine. They were created by Sydney Newman, C. E. Webber, Donald Wilson, Russell T. Davies and many others.

Doctor Who Fan-Fiction Part 5

The Doctor opened his eyes onto another white room. It seemed oddly familiar.

"I wasn't prepared!" he shouted, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. "That was not enough preparation time!" But there was no-one there to hear his cries. The Gallifreyan cautiously checked himself to make sure that he hadn't regenerated, but no, he had the same old teeth.

"I call that one-nil Doctor," he grinned.

The first thing of note was that the Time Lord had been bound to a black chair set at a roughly forty-five degree angle. He was splayed out on it like one of the iterations of Leonardo da Vinci's classic painting The Vitruvian Man, although he was still fully clothed. The Doctor systematically pulled at each of his bonds, but they were thick metal clamps and as such didn't budge an inch. The exasperated alien gave a long sigh.

"Can't even get at my screwdriver," he announced to no-one in particular, flailing ineffectually a good few inches away from the relevant pocket with both hands. Searching for anything he might be able to turn to his advantage later, the Doctor looked around the room. He realised with growing horror that it was the same chamber in which Rose had been turned into her current form: the same set of instruments lay on a table nearby and the awful alteration device hung threateningly from the ceiling, emitting a low hum.

"This is the exact opposite of what you might call 'good'," the Doctor muttered to himself, eying the device carefully.

"That would be what you might call 'bad', then," hissed a voice from the shadows behind the chair. He recognised it instantly and so there was no surprise when Sophia walked round the seat and stood in front of him. Her black eyes burned with anger and her lips were fixed in a vicious, victorious pout. Her hands rested lightly on her hips, pushing the material of her lab coat in.

"Yes, yes indeed," the Doctor gabbled, not even looking at his captor. "I would certainly call it 'bad'. Or, at least, 'not good'. Maybe even 'worrying'. I think…" he paused, waving his head from side to side as if weighing up options, before continuing, "…I would just stop short of 'terrifying', though." Sophia rolled her eyes at him and was about to speak when the Doctor got in ahead of her.

"Unless I were you," he finished, flicking his eyes straight at hers. There was a tiny glimmer of fear which the Time Lord just registered before the more usual cold steel returned. It was a clue, of sorts. Sophia took a step towards the prone Gallifreyan and thrust her face next to his.

"You are in no position to make threats," she whispered, looking from eye to eye. "In fact, you are in no position at all." She stepped back, flashing him a cold smile.

"I've got through worse scrapes," the Doctor replied in a jolly manner. "And I know you're bluffing, too, which helps." Sophia's face turned to shock. "You see, I recognise that machine up there," the Time Lord nodded towards the cannon attached to the ceiling. "It performs DNA grafts. Am I right?" Sophia nodded, looking away. "I assume I'm strapped here so that you can threaten me with it. Now, I happen to have picked up a few things about DNA grafting on my travels. First of all, it's one hundred per cent illegal according to several galactic laws. Secondly, you can't use it on me because I'm not human and you can only do DNA grafts on humans. You're just keeping me prisoner until you decide what to do with me, and trying to frighten me into the bargain." There was a long pause whilst the Doctor let the extent of his knowledge – mostly supposition, really – sink into the Queen's brain. He had the grim satisfaction of seeing light dawn in her eyes. "That being the case," he finished, "you might as well get me out of this chair. It's really uncomfortable."

"Who are you?" she breathed, looking at him with a cautious mixture of awe and loathing, taking a step towards him. The Time Lord looked straight into her eyes for meaning.

"I am the Doctor, and I can help you."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Amazon who had once been Rose Tyler searched for the word in her fractured, shapeless mind as she walked through the forest. The sun was slowly creeping up over the horizon, bathing her surroundings in warm orange and red glows. The superwoman had just awoken from a deep sleep. She felt invigorated, energised; alive. The trees brushed her deep-tanned skin, bending but not breaking as she passed. Her brain was searching for the name of a feeling, she thought. She felt it at that moment, more than she ever had before. Before? What had come before this? When had life been different than it was now? She wrestled with the thought for a moment, and then, as she had so many others recently, let it go. In the meantime, her brain had been working on the name of that feeling and presented its results. Freedom! That was it! She felt free.

She looked down at her hard, strong and yet feminine body with pride. Casually she flexed her biceps, bringing forth muscles about as big as her head. She hit her iron-hard stomach with the flat of her hand, enjoying the fact that even those great arm muscles couldn't make a dent in her mid-section. She looked down at the smooth action of her great leg muscles, powering her down the track she was following towards the scent of breakfast. A great smile adorned the leviathan's lips. She dragged her impromptu club on the path, making great grooves in the forest floor. She abruptly stopped mid-stride, expression freezing. A dull ache had begun to throb inside her.

It wasn't coming from the wounds on her calf, which had healed over now, leaving four identical scars. No, this was something awful coming from deep inside the pit of her stomach. The hurt radiated outwards from her core, spreading over the rest of her gargantuan frame in pulses. Rose leaned against a nearby tree and tried to catch her breath, to stifle her scream. The pain was intensifying: great crashing waves of it began to wrack her from head to foot, disorienting and sickening. The Amazon looked down at herself and registered with absolute fear that her body was changing.

Parts of her were growing, but other areas seemed to be shrinking, and the effect was shifting rapidly and randomly from place to place all over her body. It was a very odd spectacle, seeing her muscles alternately shrink and swell. It looked like she was running through a Hall of Mirrors at a funfair, but actually being her reflection as its shape altered wildly. Rose was becoming queasy and unsteady on her feet as she reached the point of agony. Within seconds of the pain starting to sear through her, the leviathan fell to all fours and was physically ill. The acrid stench of her vomit brought forth another round, at which point the statuesque figure fell sideways, unconscious.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

It was a few minutes later. The Doctor was working the stiffness out of his arms and legs, flexing and unflexing them to get his circulation going again. Sophia slouched uncomfortably against a wall, arms folded, wearing the look of a teenager embarrassed by an unfortunate parent's attempt to be cool in front of her friends. After a few seconds, the Doctor's body was back into what he felt was working order and turned to address the Queen.

"So!" he said chirpily. "You can start by telling me why there's only you left here." Sophia scowled.

"Nothing escapes your attention, does it?" she said viciously.

"I've got some really good scanning equipment on my ship," the Time Lord admitted, "which I got a chance to look at when we visited it. And I can only help you if you want to be helped," he continued, a stern, school teacher-like edge to his voice. Sophia sighed.

"Alright, alright. The rules here on Fertania are very strict and, accordingly, the punishments are very severe. In the past ten years, ordinary women on the planet began to rebel against the way we were treating what we call the Grunts: the women who live in the planet's forests that have been changed into men. So more and more of our kind became Grunts as punishment. Eventually our numbers dwindled. The last woman to be turned into a Grunt brought you in here, as it happens. And that left me in control of the entire planet," she said, waving her arms out wide to indicate the immaculate surroundings. "Such as it is. Any other humanoids you might have seen during your stroll around the complex are actually robots." The Doctor shook his head.

"I saw no-one else. I did wonder how you keep this place going without any staff." He paused, thinking. After a couple of moments, he addressed Sophia again. "Y'know, if history teaches us one thing, it's that civilisations formed with negativity at their heart are doomed to failure. Why did you think you would be different?"

"They didn't need us any more!" she shouted, as if it were some kind of secret that had been weighing heavily on her heart.

"Who?"

"Men!" the reply came back, quickly and with venom. "Disgusting, dirty, depraved, degenerate men. The human race had at last reached the stars. It was a whole new age, an age of awe, wonder and discovery. And men turned it, surprise surprise, into an age of interplanetary sex. The filthy oafs humped their way through the galaxies, leaving the women behind and ignoring them. After all, what more could they do with us? We were boring compared to the treasures that other planets offered, a used little toy that they had grown bored of. So some of us left Earth and swore to live our lives without men. Arrogant, sexist pigs, the lot of you. Fertania was supposed to be a kind of feminist utopia, but over the years the original goal was lost. Philosophy changed and we became violent towards males. And ever since, we have destroyed ourselves."

"Ah," the ancient alien said. "That means… oh. Urgh." He made a face.

"What?" Sophia demanded, cooling a little from her earlier rage.

"Oh, never mind," the Doctor said. "I'll tell you later. Anyway, first things first: we are going to get Rose back. One of the many things I know about DNA grafting is that it's reversible up to forty-eight hours after the operation. It's not been that long since you did the operation on Rose, so I want you to find her and return her to me." Sophia nodded.

"There could be a problem with that," she said. "Maybe. In ten per cent of cases, the graft doesn't take. An individual's body may reject it, in which case their bodies tear themselves apart at a sub-molecular level." The Doctor frowned.

"They kept that little nugget out of the official file!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "We have to find her. Let's go!" He strode purposefully out of the room. Sophia rolled her eyes and followed.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

The sun was blazingly high in the sky when the Amazon Rose awoke. Mercifully her body was no longer changing. Cautiously deciding that she was fine now, the behemoth slowly got to her feet. Miraculously, none of the forest's denizens had found her in that prone state and taken advantage of the free meal. Once upright, Rose checked herself: flexing and moving her body around to make sure that she was in a fit state to hunt. Huge, veiny muscles erupted and subsided all over her inhuman frame. Everything seemed normal.

Although she vaguely wondered what had caused her body to shift like that, Rose did not want to dwell on it for too long. Her stomach was rumbling in a good way and she could smell that the forest was full of things to kill and eat. The giantess bent down to pick up her club, which had fallen a little way away. She grasped the branch tightly and lifted it, but it did not come. Frowning, Rose tried again. Still nothing. She looked down her muscly arm to her hand and got the surprise of her life. It was fading away, simply ceasing to exist, like a cheap special effect in an 80s film. The Amazon's eyes went wide with fear as she sank to her knees.

It was at this point that something of the Londoner's previous life flashed through her broken memory. A man. He reminded her of comfort, of safety, in spite of terrible trials and pains. The memory gave her a glimmer of warmth; if she could only find this person, Rose sensed, everything would be all right. She decided to yell for him.

"Dock Tar!"

— To Be Concluded —

[Fonk]

That's great work, thanks for sharing it! ;D

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Overdoing what? The sex? The swearing? The violence?

None of those – just the endings, really. They did too much with Eugene in Random Shoes, for instance, and the way Diane 'left' in Out Of Time was nonsense too. I do still think it's finding its feet, and I am sort of glad that it's going to get a chance to continue.

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That's simply phenomenal. 😮

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I love the new series of Doctor Who unashamedly. Might I give my Who fan-fiction – on this very site – a little plug? No? Oh well.

And I agree with Mr. Tenebrae in general. Torchwood has yet to win me over. The last couple of episodes have seen a definite change for the better in quality terms, but they just keep overdoing it at the end. 🙁

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That is simply a fantastic achievement. Brilliant! 😀

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