Characters: The Doctor, River Song, Amy Pond, Rory Williams, the TARDIS
Edited: Un-edited, although obsessively read and re-read. All mistakes are mine.
Word Count: 573
Summary: It's hard to think when there are shiny ribbons trailing alluringly in front of you; a (mercifully) brief tale of n-dimensional chaos.
Author's Note: Written for sahiya , for the 2012 fandom_stocking fun. She allowed as how she was (and I quote) "a sucker for fics in which people are turned into kittens." Your wish is my command. Or perhaps I should say I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry.
Even the TARDIS was cooing at her. Amy was sure of it, although she couldn’t say why, largely because thinking seemed to be such a pointless activity, especially when that piece of shiny stuff was trailing in front of her. She swiped at it, but tumbled over in her exuberance and lost track of it. Thoughts of TARDIS and shiny thing alike evaporated as she caught sight of her tail and went after that instead.
Rory, on the other hand, was convinced that the stuttering hum around them was actually the TARDIS giggling at them. He couldn’t blame Her; he’d have been giggling too, if he could laugh at all. It was amazing how frustrated you could get when your vocal chords no longer allowed for much more than an indignant squeak.
Mind you, it was the thinking he missed more than the talking. Not being able to think was tough. He was doing better than Amy, he suspected largely because he was so angry and embarrassed at being in this situation. Being angry and embarrassed had allowed him to resist the shiny ribbon. Barely. In fact, he was sure that his completely understandable and righteous wrath was all that separated him from - oh.
The thought flew out of his newly round head as a gentle hand smoothed the ruffled fur between his ears, then carefully (because he was so very small) scritched those same ears. It felt so good!
Despite his determination to hang on to at least a shred of righteous wrath, Rory’s eyes closed and he purred.
“The Doctor will find a way to fix this, Dad. I swear he will.”
River shot daggers at the Time Lord in question. He ignored the glare, or perhaps missed it, since he was down on his knees trying to recapture Amy’s attention with the ribbon.
“She’s so cute! Isn’t she the cutest thing? Aren’t you, though? Aren’t you just the sweetest little bit of ginger fluff-Owww!!”
The hand that had so recently scritched one set of ears now ruthlessly pinched another. Amy was left to fend for herself (and roll perilously close to the edge of the console floor) as the Doctor staggered to his feet in an effort to keep head and ear connected.
“She is not ‘the sweetest little bit of ginger fluff.’ She. Is. My. Mother. And you will get us back to our own universe, right now, so that I can have my mother and father back. Do I make myself clear, Sweetie?”
“As crystal. You’re no fun at all.”
“Don’t sulk, it’s your fault. I told you not to set the gyros on that n-dimensional axis -” She broke off, her voice rising in dread. “For pity’s sake, catch her, she’s going to … ohhh! Look at that, Dad pelted after her and chased her back from the edge. Oh, that’s precious.”
When she realized what she had just said, River clapped a hand to her mouth in horror.
The Doctor grinned.
“Why, wife of mine, I do believe that you think your parents are precious.”
“I do not.”
“Yes you do.”
“Oh yes you do.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Just fix the damned gyros.”
Under the feet of their daughter and son-in-law, a fluffy ginger kitten and a little round grey moggy gamboled together. The TARDIS giggled and cooed, and held off going home for just a little longer. They were so adorable ....
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