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| Sixth Doctor | |
Blending In by lizvogel [Reviews - 4]  Author's Notes: With thanks for the inspiration to the Illinois Department of Transportation. | |
"There." The Doctor dusted his hands together and put his coat back on in a dizzying swirl of colour. "I've fixed the chameleon circuit, and this time it will work perfectly!"
As he spoke, the rotor settled to a halt. "Where are we?" asked Mel.
"Chicago, Illinois, America," the Doctor said after a brief consult of the console. "2006," he added with a frown. "Not the best of years, but we might as well have a quick look 'round."
They strode out and nearly plunged off the side of a cliff. The ragged asphalt on which they'd landed ended abruptly above a twenty-foot drop. Bulldozers and backhoes sat dormant here and there, and the concrete landscape was littered with orange barrels. Some distance away, cars and trucks crept through a convoluted maze in the early-morning light.
Mel turned to tease the Doctor about his choice of landings, only to find an expression on his face that could have melted steel girders. She followed his glare back to the T.A.R.D.I.S.
"Doctor, is that...?" The size was a bit smaller, the blue was brighter, and there was only one door, but the basic shape wasn't all that different.
"That," he snarled, "is just wrong." He stomped back into the camouflaged machine, and she followed, suppressing a giggle.
Amidst the forest of orange cones and concrete barriers, one of the portable plastic structures gradually vanished with a rasping groan. A moment later, an old English police box materialized in its place. The door opened just long enough for a battered and spliced chameleon circuit to come flying out and bury itself in the brobdignagian depths of a pothole, then the incongruous construct vanished too. The echoes of the abrasive sound faded into the incessant noise of traffic.
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