There was a rustle of paper, and then the unmistakeable sounds of crisps being tipped into a dish, and the more staccato rattle of salted peanuts and buttered popcorn.
“Who did you say this was again?”
Buffy’s tone was challenging. She’d wanted a movie, but Angel had… persuaded… her that this would be better.
“It’s Doctor Who.”
“You said that. But what’s his name?”
Angel sighed. His love could be so literal, sometimes.
“That *is* his name. Because nobody knows what his name is, other than that.”
“Oh. I know someone like that.”
She pinched his bum as she passed him on her way back to the kitchen.
“Ow!”
The only answer he got was a flick of her hair. When she reappeared, she was carrying a bottle of wine.
“And he travels around in an old police box, whatever one of those is?”
“It’s his tardis, yes.”
“And it’s bigger on the inside than the outside?”
“Yes. It can distort space/time.”
She put the wine down on the table, then retraced her steps, brushing her hand across the front of his jeans as she did so.
“Funny you should say that…”
“Buf…fy…”
“So this guy’s old, right?”
“Yes. He can regenerate.”
“And again I say, I know someone like that. Is he as old as you?”
“Buffy…”
This time she carried with her the ‘ting’ of wine glasses and the rustle of paper napkins.
“Well? Is he?”
“I can’t remember. We’ll have to watch and find out.”
“And this thing’s been around a long time?”
“Since 1963.”
“I wasn’t *born* then. It will suck. Everything did from that long ago. And it’s English! I won’t understand it. And it’s for kids, so how scary can it be?”
Angel snatched at her as she once more headed for the kitchen, forestalling whatever other damage she might want to inflict on his anatomy. Time for that later. He held her close, allowing his breath to tickle her ear.
“All the kids used to watch it from behind the sofa. It was scary. They loved it.”
“But we *know* about monsters. I mean, how scary can it be compared to what we’ve seen?”
“Trust me.”
So, they settled down to watch the first of the Doctor Who DVD fest.
>???<
“Those were just guys in silver lamé suits, with kitchen utensils on their heads!”
“Those were the cybermen!”
>???<
“Those were animated pepper-pots yelling ‘Exterminate, exterminate!’”
“Shh. They’re the Daleks. Very scary.”
>???<
“One of his enemies was The Master?”
“Big bad enemy. A Timelord, like him, but gone bad.”
“We had one like that.”
“We did indeed. He didn’t last long with you.”
She snuggled closer.
>???<
“UNIT? What’s UNIT?”
“United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. They’re the Earth’s first line of defence against aliens.”
“But there’s no more than a dozen of them!”
“Very dedicated taskforce.”
“Like us, then?”
>???<
“I want a scarf like that. Can you knit?”
“Buffy, it’s eleven and a half feet long. You’d trip over it every step.”
She bent towards him and ran her tongue over the very edge of his ear.
“I thought you were the one with more imagination than that?”
“Bu…ffy…”
>???<
“So, when he sort of… dies… he changes? He’s… different?”
“That’s right.”
Her voice was soft.
“You know, I definitely know one like that.”
He shut her up with a kiss, before putting on the next DVD.
>???<
Her hand crept into his, and she snuggled closer.
“You know those Daleks are kind of scary, especially the big black one. Davros… And those Ice Warriors from Mars? Glad we don’t get those. We don’t, do we?”
“Not yet.”
>???<
There were a few thumps from behind the settee.
“Buffy? Buffy? You can look now. The Master’s dead. And there’s a new Doctor. He’s not dead any more, he’s come back to life again.”
A hand reached out to him.
“I’m just getting reacquainted with one like that.”
He shut her up again with a kiss, before she could risk the miracle by naming it, and the kiss lasted until they both had to break for breath.
“Can we do this again?”
“Will the sofa stand it?”
THE END November 2005
Rating: G
Summary: 23 November commemorates the original air date for IWRY, as well as the transmission of the first ever episode of Dr Who. This bit of absolute silliness takes place on the lost IWRY day. What better way to spend their time?
Feedback: Pretty please. Send it to Jo
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