A Holiday

by Romanajo123 [Reviews - 0]

  • All Ages
  • None
  • Fluff, Humor

There came a noise like the trumpeting of a distressed elephant as the blue police box materialized just outside the front door of the bed and breakfast. Its occupants, a young man dressed in pinstripes and his redheaded companion, stepped out onto the sandy ground and took in the scenery. By the several broken windows and worn roof, the place looked in serious need of repair. A faded sign above the door welcomed them to the Daisy Inn.

The redhead, Donna Noble, wrinkled her nose.

“Is this where we’re staying?” she asked.

“Yep” replied the Doctor.

“You know, when you said a holiday, I was really hoping for somewhere nice, like Paris. My mate Veena went there for a summer. Not some crumbling B and B on an island.”

“Oh you’re gonna love it here Donna!” the Time Lord enthused. “ Stayed here for a week once. Well, that was back when I was all crickety and celery. They had the best toasted tea cakes you ever—”

Donna cut him off.

“If I could interrupt your reminiscing, spaceman, we don’t have reservations.”

The Doctor pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and headed for the door. “Yes we have!”

After what felt like an hour of the Doctor showing the old woman at the desk his psychic paper and them conversing about old friends and the prospect of a storm coming, “Mr and Mrs. Smith” were checked in and given a key to their room.

To Donna’s disappointment, the room was no better than the outside of the building. Their single bed looked haphazardly made: two of the pillows had no cases and the sheets had an old, musty odor to them that permeated through the carpet. The alarm clock on the bedside table was flashing twelve and underneath it sat a discarded candy wrapper and an empty Irn Bru bottle.

“Was it like this the last time you were here?” asked Donna as she reached for the television remote on top of the clock. Maybe there would be something relaxing on to distract her.

“Nah, actually it wasn’t. Bit of a business with these creatures made of rain clouds; the Nimborians. Nyssa and I sorted them out.”

As if on cue, a loud clap of thunder echoed as heavy rain began to pound on the roof. Another clap and the television fizzed and popped off.

“You really know how to pick a holiday, sunshine.” said Donna, before yawning. “I’m going to bed. You might need a lot of sleep but I do. Good night, Doctor.”

“Night, Donna.”

In an hour, they were both nearly sound asleep. That is, until the Doctor felt a swift kick.

“Ow!” he cried. “Donna!”

“Well move over a bit, spaceman. And stop taking all the blankets!”