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doctor who fan fiction

Alone in the Dark

Posted on May 10, 2010

This story was written recently, as a submission to Big Finish’s Short Trips competition. I was not among the winners. So you get to read it here. It was formless, and infinite. It was sentience, and pure instinct. It was isolated in its void, the only being in its own small, unbounded universe. It was eternal, and needy as an infant. It was ever on the search for a way out of the aloneness… *** The TARDIS shuddered like a wet dog shaking itself off — again! — upending...

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Fish Story, Part 2

Posted on Apr 12, 2010

[Part 1] I squeezed into the cramped cockpit and wedged myself between the back of Ayren’s seat at the navigation console and a locker labeled WEAPONS. (I’d checked it already — it was locked, of course.) Ayren leaned back against the headrest and looked up at me. “You’re all right?” she whispered, and I nodded as another laser blast rocked the little craft. “I was afraid you were getting tossed around back there.” “I was.” We were...

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Fish Story, Part 1

Posted on Apr 12, 2010

This story was written in the early 1990s, and was intended to appear in a zine I was to publish called ‘A Single Soul,’ which would collect all of my Ayren stories. It was never published, and this story appears for public consumption here for the first time.    “The last time I fished this particular stretch, I landed four magnificent gumblejack in less than 10 minutes… The finest fish in this galaxy, probably the universe. Cleaned, skinned, quickly pan...

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Father Figure

Posted on Apr 12, 2010

This story was written in late 1990 or early 1991, and appeared in the fanzine ‘Faithful Friends/Agreeable Companions,’ published in June 1991. The mirror sucks me in. The Routine — I do it every evening — takes me just a few minutes now. It’s a little dance I choreographed myself. One long, slow turn in front of the cheval in our quarters, to examine the splatter of freckles and moles that’ve appeared on my face and along my arms and across my chest and...

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Tristan’s Father, Part 8

Posted on Mar 31, 2010

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] Paranoia was a concept I’d learned here, on Earth, yet one more cultural oddity I’d had to assimilate from the late twentieth century and the early twenty-first. We hadn’t even had a word for it, not just because the language we’d been bequeathed was an odd mixture of English and Spanish and Japanese and Arabic squeezed through an apocalyptic bottleneck, but because the culture my ancestors — the ones...

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The Locksley Dagger, Part 4

Posted on Apr 18, 2009

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] I didn’t wake up so much as I was jolted back to consciousness by the pounding in my head. Opening my eyes was torture. Any movement beyond that was simply out of the question. “At least have the decency to pretend to be hung over,” I croaked. Sprawled in a chair across the room, the Doctor stretched his legs out before him, cupped his chin in one hand. He wore only his boots and his leggings and the bloody bandage around his middle. He smiled at...

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The Locksley Dagger, Part 3

Posted on Apr 18, 2009

[Part 1] [Part 2] Ayren I was shivering with excitement as Will Scarlett led us down the wide stone steps to the great hall of Nottingham Castle. This was history come alive, the past made present. People were living here in this castle: those men in chain mail standing guard over there would go home to the soldiers’ barracks; the young scullions rushing back and forth with trays heaped with steaming chickens and loaves of bread would probably sleep among the dogs and goats tonight, and...

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The Locksley Dagger, Part 2

Posted on Apr 18, 2009

[Part 1] Ayren The TARDIS gave a little shudder. I leaned over to check the navigation panel — everything fine — and then turned back to the data cubes. The Doctor had a definite head start on me: I half woke in the middle of the night to see him sitting up in bed, pillows propped at his back, the icy blue light from the cubes glinting off his half-rim glasses. I struggled to wake fully, but he lay a hand gently in my hair and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Go back to sleep,...

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The Locksley Dagger, Part 1

Posted on Apr 18, 2009

This story was written in 1991-2, and appeared in my fanzine ‘The Cricketer: Tales of the Fifth Doctor,’ published in 1992. Ayren The Doctor was trying to get the maitre d’s attention. Planet Souverane was very much in the centre of this era’s multicultural, interstellar society, so it was not that unusual that humans were a minority at the bar — where everything from Aldebarian brandies to Romulan ales were served — and that it was necessary for the Doctor...

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Tristan’s Father, Part 7

Posted on Apr 13, 2009

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] 46.9 hours earlier (Earthtime: Monday 5:17pm Eastern) The Doctor Earth. In jeopardy. Again. And it was all my fault. Tristan didn’t protest as I hauled him bodily into rush-hour traffic on Riverside Drive — he just hung limp in my grasp, resigned and despondent, as I stalked us across four lanes of jammed-up, honking vehicles. Of course it would be Earth that would be so at risk from my own child’s untutored ignorance....

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