In Complete Cat by lurking_latinist



Summary: “You didn’t strike me as a cat person,” says Charley, when she sees what the Doctor has done with himself. Six & Charley.
Rating: All Ages
Categories: Sixth Doctor, Eighth Doctor
Characters: Charley Pollard, Charley Pollard, The Doctor (6th)
Genres: Fluff, Humor
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2022.08.05
Updated: 2022.08.05


In Complete Cat by lurking_latinist
Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Author's Notes: Originally posted to AO3.

Written in response to the prompt 'Six and Charley, "you didn't strike me as a cat person"' from bravest_person_in_wonderland (swinging-stars-from-satellites) on Tumblr!

Title from Christopher Smart, "For I will consider my cat Jeoffry" (in "Jubilate Agno"; a very strange poem, all cat-lovers should read it).

“You didn’t strike me as a cat person,” says Charley, when she sees what the Doctor has done with himself. “A cat lover, sure. But not a… cat-person.”

The orange tabby butts its head into her legs. The action is purely feline, but the rhythm of the demand for attention—Charley Charley Charley!—is familiar. She kneels down, extends a hand; the cat (the Doctor?) rubs its face against her hand.

She feels like this ought to be weirder than it is.

The cat chirps and looks into her face with wide, deeply stupid eyes. That’s the one way in which it doesn’t remind her of her friend. She’s heard somewhere that orange male cats are always… she can’t remember the term, something slangy and modern; it meant loveably idiotic. The Doctor has his moments of inanity, for sure; but if he’s become a cat at all—much less an orange male cat—then where’s his supposed “massive Time Lord brain” gone?

Not to mention the rest of him. As the cat hops into her lap, she’s aware that it’s—well—cat-sized, and the Doctor certainly isn’t.

All becomes clear (or at least, less utterly confusing) when another cat slinks out from behind an ottoman. It’s grey, nose to tail, except for a small white star on its chest, and it moves the way the Doctor does when he’s intent on a problem, all concentration and efficiency. It sniffs her hand at length, and she can almost hear the Doctor say, “A human… mid-twenties, probably, Earth origin… significant traces of artron energy….”

She pulls her hand back.

The grey cat curls up by her knee. But then there’s another, and another, and before long she’s leaning up against an armchair, covered in cats, while a lanky Siamese (all mischief and trickery) tries to lick her head.

She’s not sure if the cats somehow are the Doctor, collectively or individually, or if they just represent different sides of him. But he seemed to vanish in quite a collected way, and she’s sure he knows how to get himself back, or whatever it is, when he wants to.

Until then—well, she has a chance to appreciate her friend in a new way, and she’ll savor it.

(One thing about cats, they hardly ever ask inconvenient questions.)


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

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