calliopes_pen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
calliopes_pen) wrote2010-03-01 01:58 pm
calliopes_pen) wrote2010-03-01 01:58 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: No Proton Packs Beyond These Doors
Title: No Proton Packs Beyond These Doors
Author:calliopes_pen
Rating: PG
Fandom: Doctor Who/Ghostbusters
Summary: The Tenth Doctor walks into a bar and meets Winston Zeddemore. A discussion of alien life versus the existence of ghosts soon follows, along with who has the weirdest life. Set the day after Ghostbusters II for Winston, mid-season 4 for the Doctor.
Word Count: 3540
Author’s Notes: This was written for the Walk Into A Bar Ficathon. My assignment was the Tenth Doctor meeting Winston Zeddemore. Thanks toseandc and persiflage_1 for beta reading. There’s a blink and you’ll miss it cameo from Louis Tully, as well as that mink coat monster thing. Because the Doctor did nothing and just stared at it, you may assume that a formerly expensive mink coat now resides in the wilds of New York City. Just...lurking in the shadows until some confused Vashta Nerada take care of it.
In lieu of any rice or confetti on his person--at least that he knew of--the Doctor threw one of his bananas up into the air, in order to join in on the merriment of the singing crowd. When it landed on some poor woman’s head, he pointedly looked away, whistled, and stepped up his pace.
Maybe she didn’t realize it was his fault. He locked eyes with the stranger as he peered over his shoulder--perhaps she had seen him after all. That woman had a glare to rival Jackie Tyler’s, he mused as he stepped up his pace and rounded the corner...only to see something that stopped him cold in confusion.
“What?!” The Doctor tilted his head this way and that in puzzlement at the sight before him. Nope--the sight wasn’t changing anytime soon. The Statue of Liberty was indeed lying on its side, on top of the Manhattan Museum of Art, while people celebrated the birth of the New Year all around it. He had come to New York City to celebrate the dawn of a New Year--the TARDIS had sent him right to New Year’s Eve, 1989 in New York City. He had been aiming for New York City and New Year’s Eve--but 1889.
All he wanted was to grab a banana daiquiri wherever he’d landed, and do the Time Warp a bit. This, however, was in all probability much more intriguing. He couldn’t help wondering how the Statue of Liberty had managed to move--and blinked when she briefly twitched before falling still again.
He sniffed as he regained the ability to form words other than ‘what’. “Well. That wasn’t here last time I visited the museum. At least not on its side. Curiouser and curiouser.” When a man with a party hat passed him, giving him the strangest look, he realized he was talking to himself again, and did what any marginally sane Time Lord would do: turned up the wattage on his grin as high as it would go and greeted the man. The man waved in confusion and hurriedly left, to his disappointment.
He stepped aside with a huff of confusion as what appeared to be a mink fur coat dashed quickly through the throng of humanity. Maybe he needed his glasses for more than brilliant ideas. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten the banana in his pocket once it turned black and green. He certainly didn’t recall any aliens that took on the appearance of an expensive coat.
Maybe he should investigate? Donna would be disappointed that she had picked now as the time to visit her mother and granddad. If he picked anyone up or anything happened, he could always be back within the week he promised her. She’d slap him otherwise, leaving him ever so slightly disturbed.
A man in earmuffs and glasses passed him, cheering about finally being one of them, but the Time Lord paid him no mind, choosing instead to watch the progress of the people slowly filtering out of the museum. They were obviously busy with a child in their midst, but he could ask around. Find out what was going on, and find out if aliens had landed.
They certainly didn’t fit in with the timeline he saw clearly in his head, at least not for another decade and change--even if the possibilities did shift and twist and turn on a dime all the blooming time.
He shook his head, walking down the busy street. He sank to one knee and frowned, reaching out to carefully touch the wreck of a car with...a footprint? Did the Statue of Liberty do that? Brilliant!
“Just what is going on around here?” He opted to begin snooping now, while the memories were presumably still fresh in everyone’s minds. He began flagging down random pedestrians in order to get his answers.
He would figure this out, he promised himself.
--
Winston Zeddemore was pleasantly tired after the battle with Vigo--he only went home for a shower and clean jumper before heading to one of his favorite bars. The others had promised to turn up in a few hours, as they needed just a bit more rest. Especially poor Ray, what with being host to Vigo there at the end, as well as being hosed down with positively charged slime.
Hopefully the shower came before the long nap, but it wasn’t likely judging by how tired the man was.
Winston felt someone tap him, before the person in question bent over his shoulder with a curious look in his eyes. “Tell me...truthfully now. You wouldn’t happen to be responsible for the crushed police car down the street, with attached boot print, would you?” He realized he was being rude again, hastily adding, “I’m the Doctor.”
Winston waved a hand in the stranger’s direction, ignoring the lack of a real name for the moment--an unspoken invitation to sit next to him was answered quickly, as the man hopped onto a barstool and spun around with a flourish. “Winston Zeddemore. That would be Ray’s bad driving, not mine.” He took in the Doctor’s wrinkled tie, impossibly untamed hair, and beaming face. “Did you manage to miss the Statue of Liberty walking down the street? The slime coming out of the walls and the ground—and attached to the museum.”
The Doctor tugged his ear, looking forlorn at having missed it. “Just a bit, yeah. Oh, Donna would be proud. I don’t usually miss the mayhem, but I really needed a banana smoothie at the stroke of midnight. You know how cravings can be.” A pause, before he added with a chuckle, “One’s striking right now, as a matter of fact. Andorian olives--not the right century for it, so regular ones will have to do.” He reached over and stole one from the drink of a rather imposing man to his left while his back was turned, popping it into his mouth with a grin and a smack of his lips.
“Delicious!”
Winston shook his head at the man's strangeness. But then, who was he to talk? He hung around with scientists that liked to capture ghosts...when they weren't being sued into the next state, that is. At least that was done, unless the owners of the museum wanted to get them for destroying (or just transforming, but it wouldn't make a difference to them) Vigo's painting.
When he looked back, an inquisitive look was directed his way. “What was the goo, anyway? I stepped around something nasty, only to lean against a wall covered in the stuff. Sonic screwdriver couldn’t make head or tail out if it either--you tell me what it was, I’ll add it to the trusty old databanks.”
“That’s from the ghost of the guy we busted. Nasty. River of slime went to the museum where he was hiding out in the painting. River of sludge caused by bad vibes. Went for a swim in it with some friends.” At the look of disgust from the Doctor, Winston raised an eyebrow. “Least there’s a steady paycheck in it…unless we get stiffed on the bill again. And sued for misplacing the Statue of Liberty...”
The Doctor poked him with a grin. “There’s no such thing as ghosts! Mind you, werewolves. Gas mask zombies. Never seen a ghost before.”
Winston pointed out the patch on his sleeve. “Ghostbuster.” A pause, then, “Werewolves? Really? Haven’t run into those yet.”
The Doctor pointed at himself, and waggled his sonic screwdriver. “Alien. Like me!”
He took in the sonic screwdriver. For all he knew, the guy was just another nutcase wandering the streets. Then again, you never knew. Aliens could be considered slightly normal, after Vigo and Gozer. “Aliens in a bar in New York. Ghosts in paintings. Demigods on rooftop temples. The Statue of Liberty going for a walk with some mood slime. Man, I still love this town, no matter how scary it gets. Mind if I buy you a drink? Mike--the bartender--is giving you the eye, which can only mean ‘get that drink soon or get the hell out.’”
“Rooftop temples? I don’t suppose there were strange rituals being performed? Oh! I’ll have a banana daiquiri, with just a dash of marmalade at the edge for good measure, if you’d be so kind.” He tugged his ear and frowned for a moment. “It’s really quite tasty--although, Donna said it was just me. Alien taste buds are funny things, even if they’re not humorous to me. If you don’t have it, then just get me a gin and tonic. Ace rather liked that one, and got the seventh me raving about the stuff. I was a different man back then...” A pause, and a wearily raised hand, before, “Don’t ask please, thoughts of regeneration do funny things to people that aren’t my companions. Even then, it’s an awkward moment or three while I prove I’m not a body snatching creature from the eighth dimension after I’ve gone up in flames.”
Winston listened in awe as the man talked more and faster than Egon and Ray combined. It was an interesting experience, to say the least. He seemed to go longer than most people could last without pausing for breath to be able to get it all out in one go like that. He made a mental note to ask the questions he was being told not to ask once the guys got here.
--
An hour later, and Winston Zeddemore and the Doctor were still gradually becoming acquainted. While Winston had barely touched his glass, the Doctor was on his fifth--based on appearances alone, he would say the man was stone cold sober. The only hint of anything was his hands flopping around as he spoke, and for all Winston knew that was a regular thing for him. What he wouldn’t give for a metabolism like that.
The Doctor certainly wasn’t shy about detailing his exploits, and Winston had already had an earful. Things seemed to be progressing from cautiously cynical, to trying to outdo each other with a gradually increasing scale of weirdness. It was Winston’s turn again.
“Saved the city from a 50 foot marshmallow man, and a ghost in a painting that wanted a friend’s baby. And hijacked the Statue of Liberty to do it. Have you done anything stranger than that?”
The Doctor shrugged. “Probably. I’m an alien that travels through time and space in a little blue box. Some might call that strange.” He thought, trying to outdo him. “OH! I once jumped through a mirror on a horse, to save a 17th century French courtesan from clockwork robots, because they wanted her brain. And invented the banana daiquiri during one of her parties. Nearly ended up on the slow path for a while there. It was a very near thing. You can’t beat that, can you?”
Winston ruefully shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare to try.”
“So...a great big maniac wants to prolong his life by getting himself a brand new body, that can last into the next millennium? Sounds like an old friend of mine...did he happen to have a rubbish beard? Any mysterious clocks hanging about the place?” When Winston shook his head, obviously confused, the Doctor wrinkled his nose. “Shame. It’s about time for me to run into him again. He pops up like clockwork--due any year now, I would think.”
A few minutes passed in companionable silence, broken only by the Doctor trying to impress Winston with his bottomless coat pockets. His only question was how he wasn’t collapsing from the weight of it all. The Doctor winked, causing Winston to raise one eyebrow.
Winston chuckled. “Let me guess. The coat’s larger on the inside, like the fabled ship you bragged about?”
“Yep! She travels through space, time, makes snow and tows your car when it breaks down. Interested?”
Winston was indeed intrigued, but jokingly asked, “Yeah, but does it bust ghosts? There’s the real question. Can it store them indefinitely?”
The Doctor thought carefully, scrunching his nose and swishing his drink distractedly. Winston reached over to straighten it before it spilled all over him. “Well...maybe. She is able to create a barrier to keep in something pretending to be a ghost, as it crosses from one parallel world to another. Actual spectral entities with goo that flit about and go bump in the night, though? That’s a good question.” He beamed at the other man. “Oh, you’ve stumped me, Winston Zeddemore. You’ve really and truly stumped me. You’re brilliant, you are. A new thing to try.”
Winston was coming up with a plan, and tilted his head to the alien in the blue suit. “If you give me--and three friends--a ride in your ship, then I’ll see if Egon and Ray will let you come on a bust. See the containment unit for yourself?”
The Doctor’s beaming grin slowly melted away for a moment. “So long as you aren’t thinking about altering fixed events in the past, or bringing dead friends or family back?” When Winston quickly shook his head no, the dark look left his face, the beaming madness returned, and Winston’s relief was apparent. “Oh, good. Good, don’t want the Reapers to eat me up again. That’s never fun.”
Winston put down his drink, putting up one hand as he cautioned the Doctor. “I have a warning, too. Keep your hands to yourself when you’re around the containment unit. No touching. No opening it. No blowing it up. No removing screws with your screwdriver...in fact, I’ll just confiscate that thing entirely. And don’t touch the proton packs--I don’t want to be the reason an entire city block goes up in smoke. Do you?” He rolled his eyes when the Doctor looked sad about the no touching clause, but he could see he had gotten his point across. Even if he seemed utterly horrified at the thought of parting with his favorite toy.
The Doctor bounced to his feet, rocking on his heels, before he offered his hand to the Ghostbuster with a mischievous look. “You’ve got a deal. I can show you around my TARDIS now, or we can wait for your friends?” He hoped the offer would prove tempting, and the man in grey would throw caution to the wind. However, Winston Zeddemore proved smarter than that. He might, the Doctor mused to himself, also be one of the few companions that would listen for once when he said no wandering off. He seemed the type.
Winston considered that, before smiling, and reaching over to the other man. He thought the alien nearly took his arm off, going by how vigorously it was pumped. “Man, I can already tell you’d just whisk me away the second I walked in. Am I right?”
The Doctor considered, before saying with a wink and a nod, “Yeah, I would. Haven’t lately unless I’m getting forgetful again, but I think I would. I’m just that rude.”
“Thought so.”
And with that, the two settled in to wait for Peter, Ray, and Egon. Winston knew that if the man beside him wasn’t completely insane, then it would be an amazing ride. He also wanted to get a good look at that sonic screwdriver he kept playing with--Egon might be able to throw together something similar, to help with future busts, or add on to Ecto-1. He was also interested in seeing just how an alien registered on the PKE meter. Would he make it explode, or register as nothing above a human?
The two looked at each other when the sound of Ecto-1’s sirens neared the bar--Peter was probably using the siren to skip the traffic jams again, most likely. This was bound to be interesting. Well, depending on whether or not he could find a parking spot.
“That’ll be the rest of the team, then. You ready to meet them, or want to finish your drink?”
The Doctor’s grin was radiant, as he flung himself back onto the stool. “Oh, yes. I’m eager to meet the legendary Ghostbusters. See what makes ‘em tick...by the way, hate to be a miserly wretch or anything, but would you happen to have any money for a tip? Just a little? Or even enough for my part of the bill? All I’ve got is psychic paper, and money that’s only good in Ancient Rome or Mesopotamia. Should’ve brought my other jacket.”
Winston rubbed his face, slightly aggravated but willing to help the man. He signaled to the bartender that he would be paying, as he tossed the right amount onto the bar. The man nodded, about to head over to fill someone else’s order, before he paused and returned.
The man leaned over the bar, handing Winston’s share of the bill back to him. “Your drink’s on the house, Winston. Remember our deal?” Winston nodded--he had almost forgotten.
“Thanks, Mike.” Winston waved as he returned to his job, pocketing the money. He turned back to the Time Lord, who was watching the scene, obviously baffled and extremely curious. “You’re dying to know what that’s about, aren’t you?”
He chuckled when the Time Lord eagerly nodded, encouraging him to continue while leaning forward so as not to miss a single detail. “We’ve got a deal here. Save the world--or at the very least, the city--and have a beer on the house. It started with us stopping Gozer from stomping on Mike’s bar by crossing the streams. A little bit east, and the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man would have been at his doorstep.”
Eyes widening, Winston couldn’t help adding with a flourish, “He was one big Twinkie.”
“Oh, I love Twinkies! Donna won’t let me touch them anymore.”
Winston sized him up, obviously amused. The Doctor just looked so sad about not being let near the Twinkies, too. Another thing the alien had in common with Egon, it would seem. Although the sight of the filling turned his stomach after cleaning marshmallow out of his hair for a week, following the Gozer debacle. “Not if you lived in this town, you wouldn’t.”
The Time Lord clapped his hand on Winston’s shoulder, before struggling to look serious. It was time for the ground rules to be put into place. “Good man--and two rules for everyone. Or three.” He tugged his ear, making sure it was only three. More would come up later, they always did. They multiplied faster than the Vashta Nerada.
“One: no wandering off. I think you’ll be fine, but I don’t know how the others will fare. Three is as important as two will be. Don’t let me eat a pear--I won’t melt, but the bitterness is the most disgusting aftertaste in three galaxies. Now, as for two...no proton packs beyond these doors. I don’t want the old girl to be blasted to smithereens just because you think you saw something so alien it resembles the paranormal. You also probably wouldn’t want me fiddle with the circuits, so I won’t let the four of you play with them, either.”
Winston tilted his head. “What doors?”
The Doctor seemed equally baffled before he mentally checked over what he had just said. “Oh, right. I parked the TARDIS on the corner, because I didn’t want to pop in during business hours. I wanted to show up in the storage room, but it was deadlocked and I couldn’t get out.” He chuckled nervously, before looking away with embarrassment. He ruffled his hair, making it even messier than it was before. “I think I was parked next to a fire hydrant. I may have blocked your friends’ best chance of a parking place. Sorry?”
The Ghostbuster shook his head, knowing Peter would probably be furious, and desperately in need of that drink. Winston was wrong about this situation, he knew. This wouldn’t just be interesting if he traveled with the Doctor. This would be one maddening adventure, as well as delightful, with the Time Lord out to impress them all beyond the telling. He stood, meeting them halfway
The Doctor watched as three tired souls finally trudged into the bar, ready for a bit of well-earned downtime--and obviously frustrated with taking twenty-five minutes to find a good spot to park. It was just a matter of Winston explaining the outrageous situation, and then the real fun could begin.
He waved playfully to the men when they glanced over at him, probably not helping Winston’s case, however he was making it. Best not tell the scientists he had two hearts, he thought, or he might be in for a good old-fashioned dissection, he considered with a well-concealed shiver.
He briefly wondered if there was a containment unit for aliens, and bounced a little on his heels in excitement. When Egon brought out a PKE meter (first quickly making sure Winston wasn’t possessed or under any mind control) and approached him, he just knew he would have a lot of explaining to do before the four of them considered it safe to venture into the TARDIS.
He would get them all into the TARDIS…it was just a matter of when.
Finis
Cross-posted to![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dwfiction, here, and dw_crossovers, here.
Author:
calliopes_penRating: PG
Fandom: Doctor Who/Ghostbusters
Summary: The Tenth Doctor walks into a bar and meets Winston Zeddemore. A discussion of alien life versus the existence of ghosts soon follows, along with who has the weirdest life. Set the day after Ghostbusters II for Winston, mid-season 4 for the Doctor.
Word Count: 3540
Author’s Notes: This was written for the Walk Into A Bar Ficathon. My assignment was the Tenth Doctor meeting Winston Zeddemore. Thanks to
seandc and persiflage_1 for beta reading. There’s a blink and you’ll miss it cameo from Louis Tully, as well as that mink coat monster thing. Because the Doctor did nothing and just stared at it, you may assume that a formerly expensive mink coat now resides in the wilds of New York City. Just...lurking in the shadows until some confused Vashta Nerada take care of it.In lieu of any rice or confetti on his person--at least that he knew of--the Doctor threw one of his bananas up into the air, in order to join in on the merriment of the singing crowd. When it landed on some poor woman’s head, he pointedly looked away, whistled, and stepped up his pace.
Maybe she didn’t realize it was his fault. He locked eyes with the stranger as he peered over his shoulder--perhaps she had seen him after all. That woman had a glare to rival Jackie Tyler’s, he mused as he stepped up his pace and rounded the corner...only to see something that stopped him cold in confusion.
“What?!” The Doctor tilted his head this way and that in puzzlement at the sight before him. Nope--the sight wasn’t changing anytime soon. The Statue of Liberty was indeed lying on its side, on top of the Manhattan Museum of Art, while people celebrated the birth of the New Year all around it. He had come to New York City to celebrate the dawn of a New Year--the TARDIS had sent him right to New Year’s Eve, 1989 in New York City. He had been aiming for New York City and New Year’s Eve--but 1889.
All he wanted was to grab a banana daiquiri wherever he’d landed, and do the Time Warp a bit. This, however, was in all probability much more intriguing. He couldn’t help wondering how the Statue of Liberty had managed to move--and blinked when she briefly twitched before falling still again.
He sniffed as he regained the ability to form words other than ‘what’. “Well. That wasn’t here last time I visited the museum. At least not on its side. Curiouser and curiouser.” When a man with a party hat passed him, giving him the strangest look, he realized he was talking to himself again, and did what any marginally sane Time Lord would do: turned up the wattage on his grin as high as it would go and greeted the man. The man waved in confusion and hurriedly left, to his disappointment.
He stepped aside with a huff of confusion as what appeared to be a mink fur coat dashed quickly through the throng of humanity. Maybe he needed his glasses for more than brilliant ideas. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten the banana in his pocket once it turned black and green. He certainly didn’t recall any aliens that took on the appearance of an expensive coat.
Maybe he should investigate? Donna would be disappointed that she had picked now as the time to visit her mother and granddad. If he picked anyone up or anything happened, he could always be back within the week he promised her. She’d slap him otherwise, leaving him ever so slightly disturbed.
A man in earmuffs and glasses passed him, cheering about finally being one of them, but the Time Lord paid him no mind, choosing instead to watch the progress of the people slowly filtering out of the museum. They were obviously busy with a child in their midst, but he could ask around. Find out what was going on, and find out if aliens had landed.
They certainly didn’t fit in with the timeline he saw clearly in his head, at least not for another decade and change--even if the possibilities did shift and twist and turn on a dime all the blooming time.
He shook his head, walking down the busy street. He sank to one knee and frowned, reaching out to carefully touch the wreck of a car with...a footprint? Did the Statue of Liberty do that? Brilliant!
“Just what is going on around here?” He opted to begin snooping now, while the memories were presumably still fresh in everyone’s minds. He began flagging down random pedestrians in order to get his answers.
He would figure this out, he promised himself.
--
Winston Zeddemore was pleasantly tired after the battle with Vigo--he only went home for a shower and clean jumper before heading to one of his favorite bars. The others had promised to turn up in a few hours, as they needed just a bit more rest. Especially poor Ray, what with being host to Vigo there at the end, as well as being hosed down with positively charged slime.
Hopefully the shower came before the long nap, but it wasn’t likely judging by how tired the man was.
Winston felt someone tap him, before the person in question bent over his shoulder with a curious look in his eyes. “Tell me...truthfully now. You wouldn’t happen to be responsible for the crushed police car down the street, with attached boot print, would you?” He realized he was being rude again, hastily adding, “I’m the Doctor.”
Winston waved a hand in the stranger’s direction, ignoring the lack of a real name for the moment--an unspoken invitation to sit next to him was answered quickly, as the man hopped onto a barstool and spun around with a flourish. “Winston Zeddemore. That would be Ray’s bad driving, not mine.” He took in the Doctor’s wrinkled tie, impossibly untamed hair, and beaming face. “Did you manage to miss the Statue of Liberty walking down the street? The slime coming out of the walls and the ground—and attached to the museum.”
The Doctor tugged his ear, looking forlorn at having missed it. “Just a bit, yeah. Oh, Donna would be proud. I don’t usually miss the mayhem, but I really needed a banana smoothie at the stroke of midnight. You know how cravings can be.” A pause, before he added with a chuckle, “One’s striking right now, as a matter of fact. Andorian olives--not the right century for it, so regular ones will have to do.” He reached over and stole one from the drink of a rather imposing man to his left while his back was turned, popping it into his mouth with a grin and a smack of his lips.
“Delicious!”
Winston shook his head at the man's strangeness. But then, who was he to talk? He hung around with scientists that liked to capture ghosts...when they weren't being sued into the next state, that is. At least that was done, unless the owners of the museum wanted to get them for destroying (or just transforming, but it wouldn't make a difference to them) Vigo's painting.
When he looked back, an inquisitive look was directed his way. “What was the goo, anyway? I stepped around something nasty, only to lean against a wall covered in the stuff. Sonic screwdriver couldn’t make head or tail out if it either--you tell me what it was, I’ll add it to the trusty old databanks.”
“That’s from the ghost of the guy we busted. Nasty. River of slime went to the museum where he was hiding out in the painting. River of sludge caused by bad vibes. Went for a swim in it with some friends.” At the look of disgust from the Doctor, Winston raised an eyebrow. “Least there’s a steady paycheck in it…unless we get stiffed on the bill again. And sued for misplacing the Statue of Liberty...”
The Doctor poked him with a grin. “There’s no such thing as ghosts! Mind you, werewolves. Gas mask zombies. Never seen a ghost before.”
Winston pointed out the patch on his sleeve. “Ghostbuster.” A pause, then, “Werewolves? Really? Haven’t run into those yet.”
The Doctor pointed at himself, and waggled his sonic screwdriver. “Alien. Like me!”
He took in the sonic screwdriver. For all he knew, the guy was just another nutcase wandering the streets. Then again, you never knew. Aliens could be considered slightly normal, after Vigo and Gozer. “Aliens in a bar in New York. Ghosts in paintings. Demigods on rooftop temples. The Statue of Liberty going for a walk with some mood slime. Man, I still love this town, no matter how scary it gets. Mind if I buy you a drink? Mike--the bartender--is giving you the eye, which can only mean ‘get that drink soon or get the hell out.’”
“Rooftop temples? I don’t suppose there were strange rituals being performed? Oh! I’ll have a banana daiquiri, with just a dash of marmalade at the edge for good measure, if you’d be so kind.” He tugged his ear and frowned for a moment. “It’s really quite tasty--although, Donna said it was just me. Alien taste buds are funny things, even if they’re not humorous to me. If you don’t have it, then just get me a gin and tonic. Ace rather liked that one, and got the seventh me raving about the stuff. I was a different man back then...” A pause, and a wearily raised hand, before, “Don’t ask please, thoughts of regeneration do funny things to people that aren’t my companions. Even then, it’s an awkward moment or three while I prove I’m not a body snatching creature from the eighth dimension after I’ve gone up in flames.”
Winston listened in awe as the man talked more and faster than Egon and Ray combined. It was an interesting experience, to say the least. He seemed to go longer than most people could last without pausing for breath to be able to get it all out in one go like that. He made a mental note to ask the questions he was being told not to ask once the guys got here.
--
An hour later, and Winston Zeddemore and the Doctor were still gradually becoming acquainted. While Winston had barely touched his glass, the Doctor was on his fifth--based on appearances alone, he would say the man was stone cold sober. The only hint of anything was his hands flopping around as he spoke, and for all Winston knew that was a regular thing for him. What he wouldn’t give for a metabolism like that.
The Doctor certainly wasn’t shy about detailing his exploits, and Winston had already had an earful. Things seemed to be progressing from cautiously cynical, to trying to outdo each other with a gradually increasing scale of weirdness. It was Winston’s turn again.
“Saved the city from a 50 foot marshmallow man, and a ghost in a painting that wanted a friend’s baby. And hijacked the Statue of Liberty to do it. Have you done anything stranger than that?”
The Doctor shrugged. “Probably. I’m an alien that travels through time and space in a little blue box. Some might call that strange.” He thought, trying to outdo him. “OH! I once jumped through a mirror on a horse, to save a 17th century French courtesan from clockwork robots, because they wanted her brain. And invented the banana daiquiri during one of her parties. Nearly ended up on the slow path for a while there. It was a very near thing. You can’t beat that, can you?”
Winston ruefully shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare to try.”
“So...a great big maniac wants to prolong his life by getting himself a brand new body, that can last into the next millennium? Sounds like an old friend of mine...did he happen to have a rubbish beard? Any mysterious clocks hanging about the place?” When Winston shook his head, obviously confused, the Doctor wrinkled his nose. “Shame. It’s about time for me to run into him again. He pops up like clockwork--due any year now, I would think.”
A few minutes passed in companionable silence, broken only by the Doctor trying to impress Winston with his bottomless coat pockets. His only question was how he wasn’t collapsing from the weight of it all. The Doctor winked, causing Winston to raise one eyebrow.
Winston chuckled. “Let me guess. The coat’s larger on the inside, like the fabled ship you bragged about?”
“Yep! She travels through space, time, makes snow and tows your car when it breaks down. Interested?”
Winston was indeed intrigued, but jokingly asked, “Yeah, but does it bust ghosts? There’s the real question. Can it store them indefinitely?”
The Doctor thought carefully, scrunching his nose and swishing his drink distractedly. Winston reached over to straighten it before it spilled all over him. “Well...maybe. She is able to create a barrier to keep in something pretending to be a ghost, as it crosses from one parallel world to another. Actual spectral entities with goo that flit about and go bump in the night, though? That’s a good question.” He beamed at the other man. “Oh, you’ve stumped me, Winston Zeddemore. You’ve really and truly stumped me. You’re brilliant, you are. A new thing to try.”
Winston was coming up with a plan, and tilted his head to the alien in the blue suit. “If you give me--and three friends--a ride in your ship, then I’ll see if Egon and Ray will let you come on a bust. See the containment unit for yourself?”
The Doctor’s beaming grin slowly melted away for a moment. “So long as you aren’t thinking about altering fixed events in the past, or bringing dead friends or family back?” When Winston quickly shook his head no, the dark look left his face, the beaming madness returned, and Winston’s relief was apparent. “Oh, good. Good, don’t want the Reapers to eat me up again. That’s never fun.”
Winston put down his drink, putting up one hand as he cautioned the Doctor. “I have a warning, too. Keep your hands to yourself when you’re around the containment unit. No touching. No opening it. No blowing it up. No removing screws with your screwdriver...in fact, I’ll just confiscate that thing entirely. And don’t touch the proton packs--I don’t want to be the reason an entire city block goes up in smoke. Do you?” He rolled his eyes when the Doctor looked sad about the no touching clause, but he could see he had gotten his point across. Even if he seemed utterly horrified at the thought of parting with his favorite toy.
The Doctor bounced to his feet, rocking on his heels, before he offered his hand to the Ghostbuster with a mischievous look. “You’ve got a deal. I can show you around my TARDIS now, or we can wait for your friends?” He hoped the offer would prove tempting, and the man in grey would throw caution to the wind. However, Winston Zeddemore proved smarter than that. He might, the Doctor mused to himself, also be one of the few companions that would listen for once when he said no wandering off. He seemed the type.
Winston considered that, before smiling, and reaching over to the other man. He thought the alien nearly took his arm off, going by how vigorously it was pumped. “Man, I can already tell you’d just whisk me away the second I walked in. Am I right?”
The Doctor considered, before saying with a wink and a nod, “Yeah, I would. Haven’t lately unless I’m getting forgetful again, but I think I would. I’m just that rude.”
“Thought so.”
And with that, the two settled in to wait for Peter, Ray, and Egon. Winston knew that if the man beside him wasn’t completely insane, then it would be an amazing ride. He also wanted to get a good look at that sonic screwdriver he kept playing with--Egon might be able to throw together something similar, to help with future busts, or add on to Ecto-1. He was also interested in seeing just how an alien registered on the PKE meter. Would he make it explode, or register as nothing above a human?
The two looked at each other when the sound of Ecto-1’s sirens neared the bar--Peter was probably using the siren to skip the traffic jams again, most likely. This was bound to be interesting. Well, depending on whether or not he could find a parking spot.
“That’ll be the rest of the team, then. You ready to meet them, or want to finish your drink?”
The Doctor’s grin was radiant, as he flung himself back onto the stool. “Oh, yes. I’m eager to meet the legendary Ghostbusters. See what makes ‘em tick...by the way, hate to be a miserly wretch or anything, but would you happen to have any money for a tip? Just a little? Or even enough for my part of the bill? All I’ve got is psychic paper, and money that’s only good in Ancient Rome or Mesopotamia. Should’ve brought my other jacket.”
Winston rubbed his face, slightly aggravated but willing to help the man. He signaled to the bartender that he would be paying, as he tossed the right amount onto the bar. The man nodded, about to head over to fill someone else’s order, before he paused and returned.
The man leaned over the bar, handing Winston’s share of the bill back to him. “Your drink’s on the house, Winston. Remember our deal?” Winston nodded--he had almost forgotten.
“Thanks, Mike.” Winston waved as he returned to his job, pocketing the money. He turned back to the Time Lord, who was watching the scene, obviously baffled and extremely curious. “You’re dying to know what that’s about, aren’t you?”
He chuckled when the Time Lord eagerly nodded, encouraging him to continue while leaning forward so as not to miss a single detail. “We’ve got a deal here. Save the world--or at the very least, the city--and have a beer on the house. It started with us stopping Gozer from stomping on Mike’s bar by crossing the streams. A little bit east, and the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man would have been at his doorstep.”
Eyes widening, Winston couldn’t help adding with a flourish, “He was one big Twinkie.”
“Oh, I love Twinkies! Donna won’t let me touch them anymore.”
Winston sized him up, obviously amused. The Doctor just looked so sad about not being let near the Twinkies, too. Another thing the alien had in common with Egon, it would seem. Although the sight of the filling turned his stomach after cleaning marshmallow out of his hair for a week, following the Gozer debacle. “Not if you lived in this town, you wouldn’t.”
The Time Lord clapped his hand on Winston’s shoulder, before struggling to look serious. It was time for the ground rules to be put into place. “Good man--and two rules for everyone. Or three.” He tugged his ear, making sure it was only three. More would come up later, they always did. They multiplied faster than the Vashta Nerada.
“One: no wandering off. I think you’ll be fine, but I don’t know how the others will fare. Three is as important as two will be. Don’t let me eat a pear--I won’t melt, but the bitterness is the most disgusting aftertaste in three galaxies. Now, as for two...no proton packs beyond these doors. I don’t want the old girl to be blasted to smithereens just because you think you saw something so alien it resembles the paranormal. You also probably wouldn’t want me fiddle with the circuits, so I won’t let the four of you play with them, either.”
Winston tilted his head. “What doors?”
The Doctor seemed equally baffled before he mentally checked over what he had just said. “Oh, right. I parked the TARDIS on the corner, because I didn’t want to pop in during business hours. I wanted to show up in the storage room, but it was deadlocked and I couldn’t get out.” He chuckled nervously, before looking away with embarrassment. He ruffled his hair, making it even messier than it was before. “I think I was parked next to a fire hydrant. I may have blocked your friends’ best chance of a parking place. Sorry?”
The Ghostbuster shook his head, knowing Peter would probably be furious, and desperately in need of that drink. Winston was wrong about this situation, he knew. This wouldn’t just be interesting if he traveled with the Doctor. This would be one maddening adventure, as well as delightful, with the Time Lord out to impress them all beyond the telling. He stood, meeting them halfway
The Doctor watched as three tired souls finally trudged into the bar, ready for a bit of well-earned downtime--and obviously frustrated with taking twenty-five minutes to find a good spot to park. It was just a matter of Winston explaining the outrageous situation, and then the real fun could begin.
He waved playfully to the men when they glanced over at him, probably not helping Winston’s case, however he was making it. Best not tell the scientists he had two hearts, he thought, or he might be in for a good old-fashioned dissection, he considered with a well-concealed shiver.
He briefly wondered if there was a containment unit for aliens, and bounced a little on his heels in excitement. When Egon brought out a PKE meter (first quickly making sure Winston wasn’t possessed or under any mind control) and approached him, he just knew he would have a lot of explaining to do before the four of them considered it safe to venture into the TARDIS.
He would get them all into the TARDIS…it was just a matter of when.
Cross-posted to
dwfiction, here, and dw_crossovers, here.