Q:fic prompt: The eleventh doctor and his companion, Molly Hooper, are in a bit of a pickle: aliens are attacking earth! (Again.) When things seems bleak and destruction is near, Molly must call the one person she can think of to help them: her boyfriend Martin Crieff.
Martin was confused as to why his girlfriend was ringing the satcom onboard GERTI and he did his best to ignore Douglas’ smarmy grin as Matin focused on her voice.
“Molly, what’s wrong?”
“Martin, I’m so sorry to call like this, but you see I’m—WE are in a bit of a jam. The Doctor says that——” her voice faded with the sound of…canon blast?
“Molly? Hello, Molly, are you there?” Martin began to feel his heart rate quicken as most crashing sounds became clear.
“Yes, hello, Captain Martin?” came through another voice, clear quick and speaking at a break neck pace. “Don’t you fret, Molly’s fine, I’m fine, the TARDIS is…mostly fine, but as she said we’re in a smallish pickle as the end of the world seems fast approaching and Molly thought you would help and now that we’ve gotten a hold of you we need you to——” Another crash and Martin would hear Molly in the background calling out “Doctor, they’re coming!”
“Right,” the ‘Doctor’ chap came back on the line, “Need you in Anchorage as quickly as you can please.”
The line went dead and the flight deck was silent as both the pilots processed what they had just heard.
Douglas managed to snap out of it once he felt GERT-I shift, responding a bit jerkily to the commands of her captain.
“Martin, what are you doing?”
“We’re only about an hour away from Anchorage and have just enough fuel to get us there.”
“Captain, you’re not seriously considering—”
“Whatever’s happening, Douglas, Molly’s caught up in it and she wants my help. She—” he paused to swallow the lump of fear in his throat. “She believes I can help her. And I’ll be damned if I don’t go to her right now.”
Douglas bit back the protest that bubbled up at seeing the set in Martin’s jaw, the calm determination in his face.
With a snap of his fingers, he flicked on the intercom. “Bing Bong. Ladies and Gentleman, we regret to inform you that we will be experiencing a delay in arriving in Vancouver this evening as we will be making a slight and quick detour to apparently save the world from Anchorage. Please fasten your seat belts. Thank you.”
Martin was about to give his relieved thanks when the sat com rung again.
“Oh good, you’re on your way,” the ‘Doctor’ tittered away. “Lovely.” More crashing. “Incidentally, would any of you have any experience with polar bears?”
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