Doctor Who | Such Great Heights
Feb. 23rd, 2008 11:59 pmTitle: Such Great Heights
Author:
eponymous_rose
Word Count: 300
Rating: G
Characters: Third Doctor, Jo Grant
It's cold where he's standing, at the roof of the world - some world, any world - with the mountaintop shimmering in alien dust and snow and a bitter wind that brings with it a hint of distant song.
Jo shivers; he draws her nearer, and the wind is biting, the air thin. "I think it might be time to return to the TARDIS," he says, and tugs on her arm to lead her back.
But she pulls away, turns to peer over the edge of the cliff at the sprawling landscape below, half-hidden by clouds and snow and dust. "Look at it," she says, and he comes up beside her. "Just look!"
He watches for a moment, silent, and she's scarcely aware that her shivering has redoubled in the next gust of wind. Uncertain, he smiles. "It's very nice, Jo, but you're going to turn into an icicle unless we turn around now. Come on."
She turns to him, wants to make him see, wants to give him all the complicated and brilliant words he always throws at her, weapons or defenses but never explanations. Her face is cold, her lips nearly frozen, and instead she says: "It's perfect, Doctor."
At that, he follows her gaze again, squinting in an attempt to see through the snow and dust. "I suppose it is," he says. "Jo, let's go back, now."
She stares out at the hidden landscapes, at the brilliant, sparkling vista of snow and ice and wind that mask the imperfections beneath, and turns to him. "All right," she says, and allows him to take her arm and lead her back down the slope to the TARDIS.
They step inside, her breath still fogging in the entryway, and she doesn't speak to him of the forest, unseen for the trees.
Author:
Word Count: 300
Rating: G
Characters: Third Doctor, Jo Grant
It's cold where he's standing, at the roof of the world - some world, any world - with the mountaintop shimmering in alien dust and snow and a bitter wind that brings with it a hint of distant song.
Jo shivers; he draws her nearer, and the wind is biting, the air thin. "I think it might be time to return to the TARDIS," he says, and tugs on her arm to lead her back.
But she pulls away, turns to peer over the edge of the cliff at the sprawling landscape below, half-hidden by clouds and snow and dust. "Look at it," she says, and he comes up beside her. "Just look!"
He watches for a moment, silent, and she's scarcely aware that her shivering has redoubled in the next gust of wind. Uncertain, he smiles. "It's very nice, Jo, but you're going to turn into an icicle unless we turn around now. Come on."
She turns to him, wants to make him see, wants to give him all the complicated and brilliant words he always throws at her, weapons or defenses but never explanations. Her face is cold, her lips nearly frozen, and instead she says: "It's perfect, Doctor."
At that, he follows her gaze again, squinting in an attempt to see through the snow and dust. "I suppose it is," he says. "Jo, let's go back, now."
She stares out at the hidden landscapes, at the brilliant, sparkling vista of snow and ice and wind that mask the imperfections beneath, and turns to him. "All right," she says, and allows him to take her arm and lead her back down the slope to the TARDIS.
They step inside, her breath still fogging in the entryway, and she doesn't speak to him of the forest, unseen for the trees.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-24 08:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-20 12:30 am (UTC)