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Doctor Who AUs

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The Doctor claimed that everything in his workshop was organized. Anyone besides the Doctor would look in the workshop and think that a tornado had just gone through and caused mass chaos. Charley wouldn’t call it organized, but to her it did seem to have a kind of magic to it. Giant fans circled lazily above them, filtering out the steam that spewed from the pipes and machines around the room. Worktables were scattered about, covered in bronze wires and gears and half-finished bits of machinery. The workshop was beautiful, but it was also chaos incarnate, which was why Charley was currently searching through piles of junk trying to find the scrabble board.

She opened a drawer to find a pile of broken light bulbs and gave up, “Doctor!”

“Yes Charley?”

“Where are the board games?”

“In the history section,” the Doctor yelled over the sound of whatever he was working on.

“Why are they in the- never mind.” The Doctor’s mind worked in unusual ways and Charley had learned to just let some things go.

She made her way to the library in the back of the workshop, careful not to bump any of the precariously balanced piles of metal and machinery. The scrabble board was wedged in between two books on the history of board games.

“That explains it,” she muttered, taking it from the shelf.

She was about to head back when she noticed a tiny model hanging from the ceiling. A r101. It was carefully carved out of bronze, complete with miniature engines and lights.

She reached out and tapped it, watching as it twirled around.

She had met the Doctor on an airship like this. She had wanted to escape, to explore, so she had dressed as a cabin boy and snuck on board. Something had gone wrong with the engines. She still remembered the fire swirling around her, still woke up some nights feeling the heat from the flames. The Doctor had saved her. They had shoved a parachute in her arms and helped her jump away from the crash. 48 people had died, but Charley wasn’t one of them.

“Charley? Did you find it?” the Doctor called.

“Yes, I’m coming,” she yelled back, turning away. 

She paused before entering the main area to make sure the Doctor wasn’t about to set something on fire. (It always seemed to happen right as she entered the room). She wasn;t entirely sure what their job was exactly, they seemed to her like a mad scientist, inventing things that challenged people’s way of thinking and broke multiple safety laws.

They also had a tendency to cause explosions which is why everything they owned smelled like smoke.

“Ah good,” the Doctor said, spotting her, “Ready for me to finally defeat you?”

“Considering I’ve won the past 20 times, no,” Charley said. She was pretty sure they let her win. There was no way anyone was that horrendous at scrabble.

She sat down at their usual table, the only one not covered in metal and wire.

The Doctor flipped a switch and the workshop quieted down. The fans slowed to a stop, the machines stopped billowing steam, and the whirring and clicking noises ceased.

“I have a good feeling about this game,” they said, pulling up a chair beside her.

“You said that last time,” Charley reminded them.

“I’m an optimist,” the Doctor said, dividing up the tiles.

Things quieted as they both examined their letters.  

Charley went first with ‘question’.

The Doctor followed and made ‘one’ off of her o.

He was definitely letting her win.