And guess whose brain has been popping out plot bunnies for hours, too.
minor JJ spoilers under the cut
the Doctor and Zepheera landing in New York (probably to see a Broadway show or something nice and relaxing) but they run into Jessica or someone else who knows Kilgrave
the Doctor being confused for Kilgrave in any way, and then he has to be a part of some plot to lure him out of hiding (kinda like that one time in Classic Who, with Two and Salamander)
Jess whaling on the Doctor thinking he’s Kilgrave before realizing he’s not him and whisking him away, leaving Zepheera behind wherever Jess knocked the Doctor over
just Jess and Zepheera interacting in general makes me giggle morbidly
Or worse…
the Doctor needs to become human again for whatever reason, but something goes wrong while his biology is being rewritten, giving him mind control and a false history he believes shaped him into a psychotic sociopath
the ‘Kilgrave’ version of the Doctor doing what Kilgrave does while Zepheera watches helplessly from a safe distance
Zepheera following Kilgrave and Jessica and Reva as he makes Jessica dig up a strong box that contains a little yellow flash drive and an old fob watch
Zepheera approaching him after the bus crash, trying to get to the pocket watch when in a daze Kilgrave declares that she’s not real and orders her to go away
Zepheera finding Jessica after months of searching, only to become what Jess believes is an alcohol-induced hallucination
I wrote that Zepheera-vision a few days ago and was just going to keep it in my drafts for a rainy day, but then I hit 20 followers and didn’t know how else to celebrate. I’m glad you liked it!
John Smith is a hidden gem, and one that I’d like to work with more now that I think about it. The fact that he is entirely separate from the Doctor leaves his personality wide open.
In a modern-day scenario like in the ZV, Zepheera would take on a normal role as a borrower just as John Smith would become an everyday man with an everyday job. Depending on how far John’s work was, she might follow him just to make sure whatever it is they’re hiding from doesn’t find him. But if that’s too risky of a journey, she might call in a favor from a borrower in the area.
The ZV also depicts a situation that is taking a turn for the worse. Maybe their pursuers are on their trail and she needs to convince him to leave or come back with her to the TARDIS, but either way she has no choice but to reveal herself. Clearly John doesn’t take it very well at first, but he can’t help warming up to this strange little woman who thinks he’s some kind of doctor.
Though she disapproves when he calls her cute, she can’t stop him from thinking it almost constantly.
I wrote that Zepheera-vision a few days ago and was just going to keep it in my drafts for a rainy day, but then I hit 20 followers and didn’t know how else to celebrate. I’m glad you liked it!
“What? Calm? I am calm. Calm and perfectly…sane. I mean, any normal bloke would just imagine a four inch tall woman telling him he’s actually an alien from outer space. And offering said tiny imaginary woman beans on toast is only polite, logical, and-and-and–” John Smith stammered as the more than slightly burnt toast jumped straight out of the toaster, throwing him off his already flustered rant. He tried to catch the flying bread in a knee-jerk reaction, succeeding only in hurting his fingers and swatting the food across the counter, thankfully away from Zepheera.
“This is crazy!” he snapped, throwing his hands in the air in utter exasperation. With a white-knuckled grip on the counter, he rounded on the self-proclaimed borrower. “More than that–it’s impossible! There’s no such thing as aliens, and I’m not even sure if you’re real! Tiny people just don’t exist. And even if they…if you are real, then…why me? Why did you have to come to me??” John squeezed his eyes shut as though it would make everything go away, anxiously rocking back and forth a little. This was all too much for him to handle at once.
But a light touch brushing against his knuckles made his eyes snap open and focus on Zepheera, who had laid her own tiny hand on his. His breath caught; she had looked small before, but now in direct comparison to his hand he felt so terribly large. He couldn’t help but stare in wonder at how she somehow found the nerve to approach a comparative giant who could hypothetically grab her at any time, one who had been shouting at her not a moment ago. For that, John thought she was an extraordinarily brave figment of his imagination.
“I’m real,” she promised. He watched as she leaned down and took hold of his first finger where it sat curled in a formerly tense fist. She lifted it, uncoiled it, and laid the very tip of it against her cheek, half-leaning against her shoulder. John could feel her soft, fine hair, her miniscule ear, the warmth of her skin, and he could no longer deny her existence. When she saw the recognition in his eyes, she shifted the finger against her shoulder–to sit more comfortably, John could assume.
“I know it doesn’t make sense, but you need to understand that it had to be you. You don’t know it yet, but we’re friends, you and I. I’m supposed to be watching out for you in case of trouble. And I’m afraid, John, that we really, really need to talk.”
Zepheera’s voice was so kind and sincere, and a small part of John could not resist that look in her teeny violet eyes. “Shall I get started on those beans then?”
She smiled, sending a bubble of warmth through John’s heart. He’d made her happy, and for whatever reason he was extremely proud of that. “Yeah, I think you better had. Gonna be a long chat.”
John waited for Zepheera to fully let his finger go before carefully lifting it away and walking to the cabinet by the stove.
“And that’s four and a half inches tall, thanks very much!”
Despite himself, John giggled at the correction.
Bonus post celebrating 20 followers! Thanks so much, you guys!
The Doctor’s attention snapped from the kitten in his hands to the borrower putting a safe distance between herself and him. “What! I didn’t say anything!” His wide grin belied his indignation.
“You KNOW how I feel about cats, Doctor!” Zepheera glared at the bundle of fur he held as it glanced around meekly. She wasn’t fazed, not even by the little pink bow around its neck. “I thought you hated cats.”
“Oh, don’t listen to ‘er, Jacks,” he cooed, lifting the kitten to his face. “She’s just being grumpy today.”
“No, don’t name it! You are NOT keeping them!”
Her protests went ignored as the Doctor looked fondly down at the other half-dozen kittens circling his feet, crying for his attention. The only solace Zepheera could find in the situation was that they were too young to jump onto the table she currently stood on; and even then, she kept as far from the edges as possible.
Beginning to feel desperate, Zepheera tried a different angle,
only slightly emboldened by the barrier of junk between them. “Doctor. If I wanted to bring a Dalek onto the TARDIS, let alone seven, you’d say no. Because the Daleks are predators and would be a threat to AT LEAST one of us!”
Still, the Doctor didn’t respond, lost in the fluffy cuteness that surrounded him.
Fire all around, chaos everywhere, and everything is in a haze, but one thing is perfectly clear: the Doctor is badly hurt.
Zepheera runs toward the Time Lord laying on his back and climbs up his chest to his sternum where she kneels and presses her hands against the ruined fabric of his suit. Where she always feels the steady one-two-three-four of his hearts she feels nothing. Where there is always a rise and fall as his lungs fill automatically with air there is only stillness.
“…No…” she whispers in disbelief. “You can’t be…Come on, you great lug, get up.”
Raising her voice, she begins to rock back and forth. “Don’t do this to me. Regenerate at least, but don’t…”
The Doctor isn’t moving. His eyes stare blankly past Zepheera even as her own well up with tears.
“We have to go home, Doctor,” she says feebly. “Back to the TARDIS. You and me, time and space, right? So…get up.”
Silence. Zepheera shakes more violently
“Please…Look at me! Listen to me, damn you, and DON’T BE–”
Zepheera woke with a jolt. She was still on the Doctor’s chest, but they were in the TARDIS. She had fallen asleep, and he must’ve noticed she was having a nightmare and shook her awake with a finger. One look into the Time Lord’s reassuring half-smile and concerned focus on her, Zepheera relaxed in relief that it had only been a dream. She leaned into his fingers for support, a comfort the Doctor was more than willing to give.
Eventually, Zepheera felt distant enough from the dream that she was able to tell the Doctor. He listened intently until the end when he cracked a goofy grin.
“Aw, you love me,” he teased, gently nudging the borrower on his chest in the ribs.
She shied away from the intrusive touch, shoving at the finger in protest. She almost regretted telling him at all. “I would sell you to Satan for one corn chip,” she groused.
“Met the guy. Dunno if he’d take you up on that offer.”
Zepheera rolled her eyes. “There’s no winning with you.”
Sorry it’s so late, long day. Hope you enjoyed anyway!
Oh, I wouldn’t put any of that past these two. I’m positive they’ve had at least a night or two in which they may or may not have had a drop too many, and ended up making a pillow fort, swapping stories, making shadow-puppets, bitching about their exes…
Oh, definitely. It’s like they were meant for each other.
When she’s having an especially bad day and just needs to vent her decades-old pent-up frustrations, he’s always there to listen. He’ll be supportive in his own way (he still loves his humans, but he tries his best to understand the borrower’s perspective).
On the other hand, when the Doctor cuts himself shaving or stubs his toe and starts rattling off insults to humanity as a whole, she won’t get offended and will usually agree and add on.
They could go on for hours like this, getting absolutely nothing productive done. Quite a few late nights in the TARDIS debating over the pros and cons of the human race; the dangers they pose and the potential they hold. And at the end of each conversation, there’s an unspoken understanding that grows stronger between them.
god, I love my babies…
Prompted Sketch by creatorofuniverses
Fanart by elitefourstevonnie
I love how, with very little prompting, Zepheera gives people the impression of has-hands-on-hips.
Borrowed Time and Space 