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Rec: Planar Flight by jinxed_wood
Jun. 16th, 2011 06:39 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
persiflage-1.livejournal.comStory: Planar Flight
Author: jinxed_wood
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 12189
Author's Summary: It's 1913, and The Farringham School for Boys is haunted by ghosts. Martha suspects foul play, especially when another Doctor arrives on the scene.
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, The Doctor (10th), The Doctor (8th),
Recced because: I am a sucker for stories featuring Martha and other Doctors than Ten, but especially for ones featuring Eight and Martha. I'm also a sucker for stories set during Martha and the Doctor's stay in Farringham in 1913. This combines both marvellously and imaginatively.
Martha staggered forward, into the TARDIS. “Phew, you had me going there for a moment–” She froze and looked around her, her eyes taking in the gothic architecture, and the dripping candelabras. A sagging cosy armchair stood to one side of the console, looking ridiculously out of place. Martha eyed the tea cup perched on a footstool beside it. Steam still curled up from its contents.
“Do you want a cup?” a chipper voice asked. “The pot is still fairly fresh.”
“You’re not going to suddenly materialise out of the walls, are you?” Martha asked, momentarily unsure.
“Does that have any bearing on the actual question?”
“Yes, actually, I think it might,” Martha said, a little more firmly. “How the hell did you get in here?”
“Me? Why, I live here,” the voice said.
Author: jinxed_wood
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 12189
Author's Summary: It's 1913, and The Farringham School for Boys is haunted by ghosts. Martha suspects foul play, especially when another Doctor arrives on the scene.
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, The Doctor (10th), The Doctor (8th),
Recced because: I am a sucker for stories featuring Martha and other Doctors than Ten, but especially for ones featuring Eight and Martha. I'm also a sucker for stories set during Martha and the Doctor's stay in Farringham in 1913. This combines both marvellously and imaginatively.
Martha staggered forward, into the TARDIS. “Phew, you had me going there for a moment–” She froze and looked around her, her eyes taking in the gothic architecture, and the dripping candelabras. A sagging cosy armchair stood to one side of the console, looking ridiculously out of place. Martha eyed the tea cup perched on a footstool beside it. Steam still curled up from its contents.
“Do you want a cup?” a chipper voice asked. “The pot is still fairly fresh.”
“You’re not going to suddenly materialise out of the walls, are you?” Martha asked, momentarily unsure.
“Does that have any bearing on the actual question?”
“Yes, actually, I think it might,” Martha said, a little more firmly. “How the hell did you get in here?”
“Me? Why, I live here,” the voice said.
