#dvandme

Title: Just A Busk At Twilight

With a deliberate flurry, Dorothy finished the song she wasplaying on her guitar and then contemplated the collecting hat sat on the cornerof the paved area of George’s Square in front of her. It contained a few coinsbut not enough to feed her that night when she got back to her student digs. Yetagain she would have to rely on her fiancé, Frank Ratcliffe, to offer somecharity; once he had given her another lecture, obviously.

 He wasn’t a bad man, it’s just… There were times when she wassure the main reason he was attracted to her was her father. Frank was in aweof him and his communist talk. Personally, she leant more towards socialismrather than communism; but they never ask for her opinion. And Frank was quitea catch; her mother often told her so. It was easy to see why, because he was handsome,tall, strong, and confident. Any girl would be pleased to gain his attention.

 She just wished that he wouldn’t gaze upon her with suchdisapproval at times.

 Talking of approval, a familiar face appeared in the crowd. Itwas a kindly face, topped by a mop of floppy light brown hair, and framed by apair of glasses. The man wearing it was almost the complete physical oppositeof Frank. His features implied a meek, caring personality. But it was his eyesthat were particularly different. Warm brown eyes rather than the cold piercingeyes Frank sometimes had.

 She had been on the verge of finishing up for the day, but nowthat he had appeared, her mystery man, she wanted to carry on just to pleasehim. Every time he came, he generously left a handful of coins, so as her bestcustomer he deserved special treatment, didn’t he.

 Today, with a diminished crowd around her, Darwin felt he wasfinally able to step closer to the object of his affections. The engagementring upon her finger placed her out of his league but it also made her safe. Shewouldn’t automatically reject his friendship, since he wasn’t offering morethan that. Could never ever hope to.

 It was a joy to just stand and listen to her play the guitarand occasionally sing too. Entrancing, in fact.

 But today he wanted to bring her joy for a change; a little pieceof happiness. And show off a little. He had to admit that to himself. Show thathe was equally interested in music, as opposed to that muppet of a fiancé ofhers who only ever showed up at the very end of the day’s busking, if he did atall, and smuggled her away as if he was ashamed she performed in the street. Buskingwas an art form, everybody knew that, so why couldn’t her lover show his fiancéesome appreciation for a change? If he couldn’t or wouldn’t, Darwin wasdetermined to do so instead; and blow the consequences. It wouldn’t be thefirst time he had been threatened with physical harm but now he had theconfidence provided by his police training to cope with it in a positive way.

 Gulping to centre himself, Darwin drew out his violin fromthe case that he carried; experimentally checked that the freshly tuned stringswere still okay, and stepped forward. Dorothy looked surprised as the firstduet notes hit her mid-song; but her radiant smile encouraged him to continue,and soon they were ably playing together.

 The rapturous applause that broke out when they finishedastonished them. They’d been too busy gazing at each other to notice the sizeof the crowd that had grown. The “kerching!” of money being thrown into the hatwas an added bonus. After two more songs/tunes, by mutual consent, they calledit a day. Darwin felt he hadn’t outstayed his welcome by stopping at that pointand he could see that Dorothy was tiring after performing for a while.

 They shared pleased comments about how well it had gone, notwanting the high to go away just yet. As he put his violin away in its case,she was counting up the money they’d collected.

 “We’ve made more than double the amount thanks to you,” shegasped. “Must be almost three times as much. This is your share.” She then heldout a hand laden with coins towards him.

 “No,” he insisted, pushing her hand gently away. “I don’tneed it. You’ve earned all that. I only wanted the chance to play with you fora while.”

 “Then let me reward you with a cup of tea or something,” sheoffered.

 He had opened his mouth to reply but Frank was suddenly therein the vicinity. “Another time, perhaps,” Darwin answered instead as Frankreached forward to claim his property.

 “Are you ready, Doe?” Frank asked, eyeing Darwin with a greatdeal of caution.

 “Oh, Frank, this is my new friend,” Dorothy began theintroduction. “He plays the violin.”

 “Hello, I’m Simon but my friends call me ‘Darwin’, he stated,offering a hand for Frank to shake.

 As he had expected, Frank made sure it was a very firmhandshake. “Hello. Dorothy is very good at making casual friends.”

 Darwin nodded. “She’s very talented.”

 The smile he aimed in Dorothy’s direction obviously riledFrank because she quickly placed a comforting hand on his arm to calm histemper. “Perhaps we ought to go,” she suggested. “See you soon, Darwin.”

 “Yes, bye,” he called out after them as Dorothy was escortedaway.

 He knew her name now and had formed a friendship, as well asa musical alliance. It wasn’t much compared to what his heart yearned for, butfor now it was enough. Hope sprung within him as he thought of her delightedface as they had played together, and the way she had smiled at him. Who knewwhat tomorrow could bring? Look at how well today had gone. Tomorrow might beeven better.

Title: Car ParkLifeA/N: for anyone who gets caught out by certain British cultural references in this ficlet, you will a useful image when you click on the appropriate word

| Bessie | Brum | Noddy |

Donna Noble stepped pulled into the car park of the officeand spotted the yellow car sitting in the third from the right spot. Her spot. The oneshe had been assigned by Security. Typical!

Infuriated, she found somewhere further back and unassignedto park and then stormed over to the interloping vehicle. ‘WHO 1’ the numberplate said. A private one, obviously.

Knowing her luck it probably belonged to one of the executivesof UNIT, or whatever this place was called. It began with ‘Unified’ but afterthat she was hazy. It all sounded like it was invented by Ikea. 

Anyway…

Now on an angry roll, she grabbed a piece of paper from herpocket and hastily scribbled a note on it.

“Dear WHO 1,

This space is assigned to YD56VHG. Please be more considerate”

In next to no time, she had shoved the note under the wiperof the offending yellow vintage car.

Never mind.

That should do it, she thought; right up until she trudgedback to her car that evening. A penned reply was sitting there.

“Dear YD56VHG,

Sorry, there was a crisis”

That needed a reply; practically begged for it. So she pennedone and stuck it under the window wiper again.  

“Dear WHO 1,

What happened? Did you have to substitute Brum for the day? Sorry Noddywasn’t available instead. Hope Big Ears got rescued alright.

YD56VHG x”

She thought that had been it, especially since her parkingspace was free the following morning, allowing her to park in stress-freerelief. But on her windscreen was a note, flapping about for all it was worth. Cautiously,she freed it from where it had been tethered, and read it before a broad grinbroke out across her face.

“Dear YD56VHG,

Rescue accomplished and not a finger laid on Big Ears. Might have tomake it up to Brum, though. You know how these TV stars can get.

WHO 1 x”

Looking around, she soon spotted the Edwardian kit car withineasy walking distance. It was only polite to leave him another note, wasn’t it?Of course it was, she told herself; so she sauntered over to the yellow car asshe considered what to write this time.

“Dear WHO 1,

Nice to know danger was so easily averted, even if Brum’s precious egotook a battering. Can’t imagine Fireman Sam being such a diva, and he’s thehero next door.

YD56VHG x”

Smiling to herself, she hoped he (whoever ‘he’ was)appreciated the joke; and made her way home.

The following morning she kept a look out for the vintage carand was saddened not to see it. It wasn’t there for the next three days either.Donna could hardly keep the disappointment from her heart, but she bravelycarried on. Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.

And then on the fourth day, she got back to her car to findthis message:

“Dear YD56VHG,

Been a little delayed by the latest invasion attempt. Just shows thatyou can’t trust a garden gnome. Then again, you never could. If you ever seeone, don’t let it sneeze on you.

WHO 1 x”

“You are bonkers!” she muttered to no one in particular whenshe read it. She wasn’t going to admit out loud that he might be adorably so. Notto anyone.

At least it gave her a good excuse to write him a note. She’dmissed carrying on this surreal conversation that included harmless children’sTV characters.

“Dear WHO 1,

I never did like our garden gnome, so it shall be no effort at all toavoid it; sneeze or no sneeze. What I now need to know is – do I have to worryabout its fishing rod?

Careful, this is almost a relationship. I’ll have to give you my realname soon.  Assuming, of course, thatyou want to know. You’d need your brains testing if you do. Ignore that.Good luck with the next invasion. Hopefully it’ll be something equally smalland kickable.

YD56VHG x”

As she read the note through, she scrunched her nose up in disgust.Would he think she was a right idiot for putting that bit about her name? Atthis rate she should have been even more honest and asked for his name, hislife history and his phone number.

Already, the voice in her head, the one that also soundeddistinctly like her mother, was criticising her for being interested, and itinsisted that he would only be using her to practise his charms. Bugger off,she grumbled at it. It was only a bit of fun, after all. Nothing would come ofit.

Nevertheless, she sought out the vintage yellow car and lefther note on it.

The following morning she was completely surprised to see aman, similar to her in age, standing by her parking spot as though he waswaiting for her to arrive. Surreptitiously eyeing him up as she parked, shedidn’t think he looked too bad. A bit thin for her tastes but he had a nice face. Hewas smiling broadly at her as she climbed out of her Peugeot.

“Hello,” he cheerily greeted her.

“Hello,” she replied. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes. Yes I was,” he confirmed; and then gave a point towardsthe other side of the car park. “I got here early today in Bessie.”

She looked where he had indicated and saw the now familiar yellowcar. “You call it ‘Bessie’? Nice. I like it.”

“She is.” He nodded and then spouted, “Oh! I’ve forgotten mymanners. I haven’t introduced myself.”

“That’s alright. I haven’t either,” she consoled him. “I’m Donna.Donna Noble.”

“Lovely to finally meet you, Donna,” he enthused. “I’m JohnSmith but you can call me the Doctor.”

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline in shock. As if she wouldcall him something as daft as that! Not without any evidence that he actually wasa doctor; that was for sure. “And you can call me the Queen.”

To her relief, he laughed heartily at that. “How do you feelabout Barney the Dinosaur?”

“Always wanted to flatten him,” she answered honestly. “Allthat cheerfulness was highly suspicious.”