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Walking down the street by ALC Punk! - Unconventional Pairing Ficathon [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Unconventional Crossover Pairing Ficathon

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Walking down the street by ALC Punk! [Jun. 17th, 2006|01:46 am]
Unconventional Crossover Pairing Ficathon

ucp_ficathon

[lyssie]
[mood |contemplativecontemplative]
[music |Pink - Trouble]

Title: Walking down the street
Author: ALC Punk!
Crossover: Doctor Who Crossed with Fandom: Firefly
Rating: 13ish
Written for: antisocial_47
Prompts: Fuzzy slippers.
Notes: Er. I believe I may have missed part of the point of this ficathon. My apologies. Should I do porn ficlets in penance or something?


If anyone had ever asked Malcolm Reynolds how he felt about fuzzy slippers, those listening were sure to get a snicker, or a crass remark about how he was a man. If he was drunk, he might claim Jayne wore such things. Which, Jayne being Jayne, wouldn't get him killed. 'Cause Jayne was rather fond of fuzzy slippers.

As he said, they, "Put hair on your chest, and keep yer toes warm when a whore can't."

Mal usually wanted to hit Jayne right 'bout then.

But he'd restrain hisself, as hitting a man you're paying to be part of your crew is counter-something or other. Zoe would know the word.

Which wasn't to say Mal hadn't worn fuzzy slippers before. He just wouldn't admit it.

It was hard to maintain the image of tough, freelance mercenary when you wear fuzzy slippers. Or so he'd heard (Jayne, as always, was the exception to the rule). He'd never quite considered putting it to the test--he liked eating.

The day Malcolm Reynolds wore fuzzy slippers was the day he'd toss in his hard-ass badge and become a kept man.

Inara had actually hit him for expressing that sentiment, and then she and Kaylee'd stalked off to go dress-shopping. Zoe had told him he was an ass and followed them.

Mal considered it very inconsiderate of them to stalk off, and said so in loud, slightly mushy ramblings.

"I think he's drunk."

"He's not drunk."

"No, no, he's definitely drunk, Doctor. Look, I know the signs, right? Mum's fifth boy usedta come home like that."

If anyone had asked Rose Tyler about fuzzy slippers, she would have said pink were her favorite. The Doctor would have asked if they were cannibalistic.

Mal, of course, didn't know this, and didn't know their names belonged to the voices he thought were in his head. Or maybe they belonged to the hum of the wall he'd fetched up against after Jayne had told him he was a sorry excuse for a drunk.

"What's he doing leaning up against my TARDIS then, eh?" The man sounded almost jealous.

"Maybe he likes blue?"

"Blue's nice," Mal informed them. Then he patted the blue, wondering at the slightly subconscious hum he could feel.

"And he's stroking her. That's just rude."

"Oh, come on Doctor, it's not like she's a living thing."

"She is!"

Mal finally realized there were people standing there, and focused on them. The girl looked about Kaylee's age--more Jayne's type than Doc's, though. The man looked about, about--well, actually, it was hard to tell how old the man was. Mal had the impression that he was at once very young and very very old.

The man resolved himself into a sort of weasel-faced, clean-cut type who reminded Mal of the proctors from when he was young.

"Do you need help?" The girl was looking at him, concern in her eyes.

"Kaylee says I'm an ass." Mal informed her, feeling rather woebegone, yet delighted he'd managed a full sentence.

"Riight. I'm Rose, and this is the Doctor. You look like you could use some tea."

Getting his brain to work was difficult, but he did it, sorting through the implications of tea, and the blue eyes staring at him.

"Why don't we go have some?" Rose suggested. "Looks like there's a nice cafe just down the road."

"Now, Rose--"

"They tossed me out," Mal informed her, feeling a little proud of this fact. He pushed against the blue wall and stood. He was also proud he didn't sway. "Said I was drunk and dislordlery."

"You mean disorderly." she corrected gently, then took his arm when he stepped away from the box and seemed about to fall over. "Whoa. Maybe you'd better sit down again."

"Am fine."

"Oh, you are not," the Doctor said, taking his other arm. "Let's just find a nice, park, sit down, smell the roses--you do have parks here, don't you?"

Mal had no idea why he wanted to know something like that, so he didn't answer. Besides, it was hard enough, putting one foot in front of th'other without complicating it with things like parks.

"Trees."

"They do have trees, usually, yes. Except the Gargatha Orialis Park on Quarkaris Five. They've got spindles and spillikens instead of trees and grass."

"Doctor, you can't have spillikens as park."

"You can if you have anti-gravity fields and walk upside-down all day."

"Now that's silly.

Mal had to agree. People walking upside-down? This man was mad, insane, possibly dangerous. And also moving Mal along with ease. He grunted, as if to acknowledge they were there, then went back to concentrating on his feet. And legs.

It was just his luck that the trio walked straight into a patrol. "You there!"

"Sorry, I don't answer to 'you there'." The Doctor informed them, not stopping.

"Doctor!" Rose objected, her stopping dragging them effectively to a halt. It was either that, or turn Mal into a wishbone.

The captain of the guard eyed them contemptuously. "We're looking for someone, perhaps you've seen him?"

"I may have done." The Doctor released Mal and fished in his pockets, pulling out a pair of glasses to study the warrant-card the captain produced. "Captain Beauregard Lonsdale. Nice name. Bet you used to get beat up on the schoolyard."

Rose snickered, then groaned, "Doctor, don't antagonize him!" she hissed.

"I'm not." He smiled cheerily at Captain Lonsdale. "Now, about this man you're searching for?"

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds. He's wanted in connection with a number of burglaries."

Mal tried to say something, and failed.

Unfortunately, he squawked a bit, attracting the guard's attention. "And who might this be?"

"Ah, this is Fred--"

"Fred Tescos." Rose piped up, when the Doctor seemed to flail. "He's just had a bit much to drink. Needs a walk round the block. You know that sort of thing." She smiled cheerily at the captain.

"Right." Dismissing them as unimportant, he turned and stalked off, his entourage following him.

"Tescos?" Demanded the Doctor.

"It was all I could think of! Besides, this ain't Earth."

"And how do you know that?"

"The two moons in the sky." She pointed up with her free hand. "You don't get that on Earth, now do you?"

"And how'd you know that Tescos don't have a multi-galaxy monopoly by now?"

"Well, they don't, do they?"

"Well, no, but--"

"So it don't matter." Rose readjusted her grip on Mal's arm, "Come on, let's go find that park and get Captain Reynolds here sober."

What the? Mal tried to ask how she'd known his name, but it came out garbled, sprinkled with Chinese.

She didn't seem offended. "Seemed obvious. Copper, lookin' for you. And here we are with a random drunk." She patted his shoulder. "Next thing, sommat'll blow up."

Or Mal would get sick.

Which he did, all over Rose's bright pink shoes. She swore at him a lot.

"Feel better?" The Doctor was eyeing him with something bordering on boredom.

"Yeah."

"Good, good. Rose, we should probably be going."

"Yeah, and how'm I gonna do that in these?"

"Rose, there are thousands of shoes in the TARDIS. You'll be fine."

"Space vampires would'a been more interesting." She informed him, sounding as grumpy as Kaylee losing a piece of engine.

"Well, you've had werewolves, Rose. You can't have everything"

"I know." She tipped her head to the side and grinned across Mal at him.

He grinned back. "Could be worse. Could be Daleks."

"What a horrible thought. Though, I don't think Daleks puke on people's shoes."

"Could, though. back before they were daleks, 'course, that was all a very long time ago now." The Doctor mused, eyes going distant.

"Stop talking 'bout things I don't know 'bout." Mal, it could be noted, was a cranky drunk. And the simpering smugness of his companions got under his skin. Kinda like the Alliance did.

"Oh, leave off, old chap." The Doctor patted his shoulder. "We're almost at the park. You can have a rest on one of the benches."

No sooner said than a small park-like area emerged, the Doctor exclaiming delightedly about having known they'd find one. Then the two set Mal on a bench. He slumped a little to the side.

"Should we leave him alone?"

"He'll be fine, won't you?"

Of course he'd be fine. Mal tried to sis straighter, his pride demanding it. "'M fine."

"See?"

Rose looked at him uncertainly. "If you're sure."

"Sure."

"All right, then." She hooked her arm through the Doctor's and grinned, "I need new shoes. Let's go shopping, shall we?"

Mal was certain he heard the man swear under his breath, demanding an alien invasion before he pasted a smile on his lips and replied, "All right. But I just want to check something in the TARDIS, first."

The two walked off, Rose chatting animatedly about shoe-size, color, texture, smell and taste. The Doctor seemed less happy. Mal figured it was really all for the best.

'Sides, the bench was comfy, and he needed a nap.

-f
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: kellifer_fic
2006-06-18 12:33 pm (UTC)
Hee... that's very cute. :)
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